AUTHOR’S NOTE:
REVISED as of 2025!!
Alternative Universe!
Changes have been made to the original oneshot storyline and Kagome’s character, but for the majority, the plot and characters remain the same.
Chapter Prompt: Cinnamon.
P.S. This oneshot has been adapted into a dark, multi-chapter story of my creation, titled “Bound by Corruption”—which has, also, been revised as of 2025.
CONTENT WARNING!!: Mild Dom/sub Undertones; Light Dub-con; Forced Orgasm; Forced Masturbation; Light Rough Play
Word Count: 6,869
Glossary:
Inu no Kami—Dog god
Haori—A Loose Garment Resembling A Coat
Hakama—Loose Trousers
Kami—god
Miko-dono—Lady Priestess
Yukata—Bathing Clothing
Youkai—Daemon
Tenshi—Angel
TOUCHING THE EMBER to the candle’s wick, Kagome methodically lit each one with the long, thin splint of wood. There were over two dozen, arranged in a crescent shape before the alter. The scent of wax and vanilla quickly permeated the air. Combining with her offering of cinnamon, the heavenly fragrance enhanced the comfortable atmosphere within the main hall where she knelt in supplication.
The Inu no Kami’s Shrine.
It was a place of tranquility where pilgrims came to worship, offering gifts and prayers, or seeking divine guidance. Or healing.
Kagome’s eyes alighted on the sacred object so many came to see: a sword. Unscabbarded, the candles’ amber glow cast flickered shadows across the length of the blade. Even in the dim lighting, the edge appeared sharp and well cared for. Not a speck of rust blemished the celestial relic.
Tenseiga, the Sword of Heaven.
Legend told it was an object of healing, but Kagome had never understood how a weapon of war could be anything but an instrument of blood and death; though, she supposed—metaphorically speaking, when implemented as a means of securing the safety and prosperity of the people, mediums of war brought about times of peace and healing to the land. However, tradition professed that Tenseiga’s healing abilities went far beyond symbolic interpretations. That the blade held power over life and death itself, but not in the traditional sense of cutting down one’s foe. In fact, the opposite was true, that a single cut from the celestial blade did not result in death but the resurrection of one who had already died.
Looking at the blade’s sharp edge, Kagome had her doubts. However, she had no intention of testing the validity of the legend. Not only was she likely to walk away with a stinging cut that she’d rightly—stupidly—deserved, but the thought of desecrating the sacred relic in such a foolish manner horrified her.
She was a shrine maiden. A miko.
Dressed in the traditional signature of her calling, she wore crimson hakama and a snow white haori. Her long, black tresses were tied back in a simple bow at the base of her skull, with a section of her hair looped in a ring on either side of her head, long enough to brush her shoulders. She of all people had been raised to respect the kami, which was the purpose of her visit.
Every year, she embarked on the day long journey from her village to the Inu no Kami’s shrine with the traditional offering and prayers. Though no one had seen the Inu no Kami in centuries—if ever, her mind whispered its doubts, he was known as the protector of their region, and it was her duty to represent her small village with yearly tributes, as well as to seek divine intervention in times of famine—or war.
Today, she’d came seeking the latter.
For the past few months, word from other settlements had steadily filtered to her peaceful community, with horrific tales of carnage and destruction. A mighty force of bandits was on the rampage, pillaging from the poor and helpless, raping the innocent, even taking captives to be sold into slavery or prostitution. And the deaths. Those the bandits didn’t abduct and auction off were murdered—unless one was fortunate enough to escape the raids. Few did. Afterwards, the entire settlement was then torched to the ground, leaving nothing left but ash and ruin.
The magnitude of the bandits’ exploits had not been seen in over fifty years, and the people were afraid. Many were abandoning their homes and livelihoods, leaving to start over in a more peaceful region. The authorities were making every effort to put an end to the senseless devastation and slaughter, but the bandits’ forces were vast and wide spread. And their leader was said to be clever, a brilliant tactician, which was proven time and time again with every successful raid and each day his forces continued their rampage unabated.
Kagome’s village was small and out of the way from any major roads leading to influent towns or trading routes, but they were all afraid. More often than not, they’d heard stories where the bandits struck isolated villages. Many feared it was only a matter of time before they reached their home. This fear had caused many of the young and able-bodied to pack up their belongings and leave. There were so few remaining that there were not enough farmers left to tend to the fields, and harvest season was fast approaching, but without workers, a food shortage was inevitable. Many of the old and infirm would die this winter if something was not done, and soon.
Kagome had debated undertaking a lengthier journey to a larger community where there was a notable military presence, but had discarded the notion as futile. Her people did not have the funds to pay to have warriors sent as protection, nor enough goods to offer as trade. Without the promise of payment, they’d laugh her out of town. To them, her village held no value. They were unimportant. Which meant, they were on their own.
She had always preferred the quite life her village provided, so far from the influence of more prominent territories, but now, the seclusion was a glaring vulnerability, and it was her duty to protect them all from the hearts of evil men.
So, it was to the kami she turned, even though it was still months before her scheduled yearly offering, but desperate times called for desperate measures.
“We need you, Inu no Kami. Please, do not forsake us, but deliver us from this evil,” she beseeched with a graceful bow of her head, her hands hovering just beneath her chin, her palms pressed together in reverence. She prayed more out of habit than an actual belief that a dog god listened. Instead, she felt the kami were spiritual beings without true form, but were entities of benevolent intent, and it was to this belief she prayed for help and guidance.
Her prayers were interrupted by a horrendous crash behind her. Turning with a gasp, her eyes widened at the unexpected sight of men. Dozens upon dozens of rough looking warriors dressed in full armour, their swords drawn as they flooded into the main hall. Their clothes were travel stained, their faces dirty with dust and grime, and twisted with cruelty as they leered at Kagome.
Training asserted itself. Rather than freeze and cower on the floor, she was on her feet, evaluating, calculating the odds even as she retreated a step to put more distance between herself and the oncoming threat, careful of the dozens of candles, least she catch her garments on fire.
Never before had she faced off against her own kind, and in such numbers. She was miko, her past battles having been against negative spirits and malevolent youkai, but she would not cower, even when she realized the grievous error she’d made. Her bow and quiver of arrows were outside the shrine doors, which was currently blocked by a crowd of brutish men.
As a sign of respect, it was customary to leave weapons outside the shrine before entering and offering prayers. At least, conventional weaponry. There were exceptions to the rule. Hidden under the folds of her wide haori sleeve, she wore a long knife strapped to her left forearm, and another strapped to her right ankle, and in concealed pockets, she held various sutras and powders, but staring across the sea of men, she knew she was hopelessly ill-equipped to face the encroaching threat.
She’d known of the dangers, that the region was plagued by bandit forces. To adhere to tradition by entering the shrine without her main source of protection had been beyond foolish, a mistake she may not live to regret.
“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” One of the men stepped from the crowd, his armour creaking as he lowered his sword. Though the tip was angled harmlessly towards the ground, the threat remained clear when he did not move to sheath the blade. “A shrine maiden.” He made a show of glancing around, before his dark eyes and ruthless grin returned to her. “Are you all alone? For your sake, I hope there are more of you. You see, my men here are tired and weary. They could benefit from a healer’s tender touch.” He turned to call over his shoulder, “Right, boys?”
Every one of them laughed, the sound sinister.
One of the men called out, jeering, “Oh, I ache real bad, miko-dono.” He grabbed his crotch in an obscene gesture. “Right here.”
Male laughter increased while other men shouted their ‘need’ of her, each demand more vulgar than the last.
Fear pulsed through her veins on a wave of adrenaline as self-preservation and defiance emboldened her to climb the alter stairs and take hold of the sacred object. Ignoring a pang of horror at the sacrilegious act, Kagome pulled Tenseiga free and brandished the blade with expert ease.
Though she was accustomed to fighting with a bow and arrows, she was an expert swordswoman. The daily practice instilled discipline, confidence, and mental clarity. Sword fighting demanded complete presence of mind, which had trained her brain to minimalize distractions, while enhancing her focus and ability to observe, evaluate, and react in a fraction of a second even under heightened levels of stress. As now.
But the instant she touched the blade, she felt it. A pulsation.
“What do you plan on doing with that, miko?” chided the leader, who eyed the blade and her confident stance warily. “Put that down before you hurt yourself. Don’t make me come over there and take it from you.”
Kagome barely heard him, her senses flaring in awareness. They were no longer alone. There was something else with them, something not human. Nor was it youkai.
She caught movement in her peripheral. Before she could react, she felt warmth envelop the back of one of her hands that held the hilt of the blade. Stiffening, she made to jerk to the side, but felt an arm encircle her waist, pulling her back against a muscular chest. Then a flash of silver at the corner of her left eye, followed by moist breath at her ear.
“You have awakened me, little miko.” The voice was a low rumble, deep.
She shivered, but not in fear.
At the same moment, the crowd fell back with shouts of alarm.
“Where did he come from?” one bandit demanded, eyes petrified.
“I saw it! He came from the mist,” another cried out, pointing at Kagome with a shaking finger. No, not at her, but behind her.
And it was true. All around the alter, a grey mist swirled around the flickering candles, rolling over the steps, and wisped about Kagome, where she knew they emanated from the being embracing her from behind.
“Inu no Kami,” she breathed, shocked. She felt him. Not just physically. She sensed him. This entity of pure light. “You’re here…” She couldn’t believe it.
“I heard you, your prayers for deliverance. Your voice called to me, reaching out to me even in my slumber.” The arm around her waist tightened, before she felt his arm shift upwards. His forearm brushed her breasts, making her jolt in surprise. Then his hand, fingers long and tipped with claws, she realized with a fast beat of her heart, wrapped around her throat. Not tight. Not hurting her. Just…holding her. His next exhalation ghosted across her cheek when he spoke, making her tremble, but still not in fear. “Your voice haunts me. I would hear it again. Speak your need of me.”
Kagome swallowed thickly, unsure as to his meaning, while her body heated, and began to throb in an unfamiliar way that was both thrilling and frightening. “I—I’m sorry..?”
“Is that what you would have of me?” he persisted. “To be delivered from this evil? Speak and it will be yours.” His voice was like spiced honey. Sweet and warm. And pure temptation.
Clearing the dryness in her throat, she forced herself to answer. “These men.” She nodded towards the muttering crowd as they decided amongst themselves of how they would deal with the unexpected appearance of the stranger who continued to hold Kagome far too intimately. With the Inu no Kami’s arrival, she’d actually forgotten about the threat awaiting her.
And felt her heart clench. “These men,” she spat, “Are vile criminals. Raping. Murdering. And worse. They slaughter entire settlements, and burn everything to the ground until there’s nothing left. And now they’re here, desecrating your sacred shrine. They want to… They intended to…”
“I sense the evil intensions in their hearts,” the Inu no Kami murmured when she struggled to voice what she knew the men had planned for her. Lips pressed against her cheek. “I will not allow them to harm you.”
The kiss. It was…soothing. Kagome closed her eyes, and leaned back against the strength wrapped around her. Allowed another to support her, if only for a moment.
“You are mine.” His voice had become a growl as he made his shocking claim.
Kagome’s eyes snapped open in alarm, before the entrance doors slammed closed, as well as all other doors leading deeper into the shrine, sealing them in the main hall. Along with the bandit horde.
Suddenly, the hand around her throat covered her eyes. “Your offering of cinnamon pleases me, miko, but more is required of you. You have taken up my fang and called me from my slumber.” The hand that held hers around the hilt of the heavenly blade squeezed gently.
Kagome flinched as the chamber was filled with screams. Of fear. Of pain. The arms around her tightened. Sheltering her. Comforted her.
“Do not be afraid. My bride.”
“Bride?” she whispered, feeling faint.
The sounds from the bandits were awful, made worse by being unable to see with the hand covering her eyes, leaving her imagination to fill in the blanks. She trembled, but not wholly from fear of the bandits’ fate, but of the finality in the kami’s tone when he called her his bride.
“I have waited centuries for you, light of my life. My bride.” Another tender kiss, this one against her temple. “And nothing will ever separate what the kami—what I—have brought together.”
Before Kagome could speak, consciousness slipped through her fingers, as—for the very first time in her life—she fainted.
KAGOME AWOKE TO a touch. A large hand. Gliding from her ankle, up the back of her calf, to hook beneath her knee—before spreading her. Heart in her throat, she lunged upward onto her elbows, and met amber fire.
She was hardly aware of her surroundings, that she was lying on the softest mattress she’d ever felt, on a bed that could fit half a dozen people, with white gauzy curtains pulled closed, but did nothing to conceal the lavish—unknown—bedchamber around her. All of it went ignored, for she wasn’t alone in the bed.
Her lips parted on a silent gasp as she beheld the ethereal being before her. Candle light flickered over him, his complexion alabaster white, face chiseled, and without blemish, save for the most intriguing markings. Magenta stripes slashed across his high cheekbones, two on each side, with a cerulean crescent moon gracing his forehead. He blinked those inhuman eyes, bringing attention to the fact that his pupils were narrow slits, and the magenta painted across the back of his eyelids.
He was too beautiful to be real, his visage unmatched by ningen imperfection.
Kagome blinked, hard. But when she opened her eyes, he was still there, kneeling between her spread legs. Who was he? He didn’t speak, and her gaze lowered on their own accord, and she swallowed. The stranger wore a simple, light blue yukata, with white and gold petals, but what captured her rapt gaze—held it—was the revelation of his muscular chest, left exposed by the wide opening of his collar. Hairless, the corded musculature of his physique appeared sculpted by a tenshi’s hands.
She couldn’t seem to help herself when her gaze dropped, following the path of all that naked skin. Her eyes widened. If she’d thought his chest was a work of art, the definition of his abdominals was a masterpiece. His navel caught her eye, then the intriguing trail of silver hair that led further down, only to feel a wave of disappointment that her perusal was halted abruptly by the gold obi securing the bottom half of his yukata closed.
The hand underneath her knee spread her leg wider, calling attention to the fact that she was no longer in her haori and hakama. Nor did she feel the soothing weight of either of her knives. Instead, she wore a simple white yukata, the fabric rich, soft. Silk, she knew, even though she’d never had the luxury to wear something so costly. Her hands shot down to the bottom folds of her yukata when they parted to keep them closed, preserving her modesty.
She could feel her face flaming when she demanded, “Where are my clothes?” Had he changed her garments? The thought made her reach up and clasp the collar in a tight grip over her breasts with one hand. “W-who are you?”
“Be at ease, Bride. After you fainted, my maidservants cared for you, seeing to your needs. I have only just come to you. I could wait no longer. As to who I am, you already know.”
Recognition sparked. “Inu no Kami,” she breathed, in awe. She hadn’t seen his face other than a glimpse from the corner of her eye, but she’d never forget his voice. “It wasn’t a dream.” Kagome lifted a shaky hand to her face. “I-I don’t understand…”
The Inu no Kami stretched out a hand towards her face, but she flinched at the sight of his claws. He paused, before his hand darted towards her, too fast for her to evade, but he didn’t hurt her. Only cradled her face with a tenderness that belied the impatience she sensed by the way she felt him hold himself so tense above her.
“Never cower from me,” he murmured. “I would not hurt you. Never you.”
Her breath caught at the way he was looking at her. As if he owned her. But it was the sad yearning she saw that made her heart clench.
“Because I’m…your bride?” Her blush intensified, and when she tried to look away, he forced her to continue meeting the intensity of his gaze.
He leaned in until she felt his hot breath on her face, on her lips, making them tingle. “What is your name, Bride?”
Rather than give a conventional answer, he claimed her with an affirmation by once more referring to her as his bride. The word clamored through her mind. Bride. Bride. Bride.
“Impossible.” She hadn’t meant to say it out loud but now that she had, she couldn’t stop the rest from tumbling out, ignoring his question as insecurities stabbed at her. “You can’t want me. I am nobody. Just a miko. From a simple, inconsequential village. I cannot be your bride.”
He’d made a horrible mistake, and yet, at the thought of some other woman having the honour of being his bride caused a flare of jealousy, surprising her in its intensity.
“There is no mistake.” The assurance both confused and comforted her. The hand on her face tensed, drawing her closer, until the Inu no Kami’s lips brushing against hers, so soft, like butterfly wings as he spoke. “You have awoken me. When you took hold of Tenseiga, the sentient blade recognized you. You. Are. My bride.”
Then, he crashed his mouth on hers, claiming her with fierce possession, and Kagome—untutored in the pleasures of the flesh—succumbed with a flood of desire. His grip on her face shifted, until he held her chin in his hand. With a firm press of his fingers, her mouth opened, and she gasped at the feeling of his tongue surging in. Taking. Asserting dominance. Ownership.
She should be appalled at the rough treatment, disgusted that he put his tongue in her mouth, yet all she felt was pleasure, and an answering need that surprised her by its ferocity.
So, this was desire, she thought in a daze.
He crowed her, using his much larger frame to force her down, until she was lying on her back with him hovering over her. Kissing her. Stealing her breath. Her sanity.
“Inu… Kami…” she panted between kisses. “Wait!”
Thankfully, he let her breathe, but he didn’t stop there. Instead, he began pressing hot kisses along her jaw. “I have waited centuries for you,” he panted, his voice deepening, making her tremble. “Tell me your name.” He nipped at the lobe of her ear, and she felt the sting of fangs.
Kagome gasped, jolting beneath him as the fire in her belly expanded, and pooled lower. Moisture flooded her folds, embarrassing her, and Kagome clenched her thighs together on reflex, only to moan at an unexpected jolt of pleasure.
What had he asked..?
“Kagome…Higurashi,” she answered.
She was breathing too heavily, her heart pounding. She needed to calm down, to think. Taking a fortifying breath, she clenching her eyes shut, and tried to block out the sensations dancing along every nerve. Until she felt a tug on her obi, the folds of her yukata parting. On a strangled gasp, Kagome tightened her grip to keep the garment closed, but large hands enveloped hers, and forced them above her head, where her wrists were captured in one of his hands.
“Inu no Kami!” she cried out, shocked.
“Sesshomaru. That is my name,” he corrected, even as his free hand parted her yukata, revealing that she was completely bare beneath. “Exquisite.”
Kagome felt her face heat. With embarrassment. With pleasure that he found her pleasing. At the adoration and unveiled lust as he scrutinized every inch of her bare body. Never before had another seen her unclothed.
“I’m ningen,” she whispered hoarsely, trying not to squirm under his ardent examination. In this position, with her arms held above her head and her back forced in an arch, her breasts were thrust up. As an offering. Indecent. In the light of dozens of candles, she could see the pale pinkness of her nipples harden under his stare, and another embarrassing flood of moisture seeped from her feminine folds.
His scrutiny was humiliating. Arousing.
The Inu no Kami’s nostrils flared, and he shuddered, before casting his eyes further down her body. To her spread thighs. Seeing everything. “That scent. I have yet to touch you, yet you are already dripping honey for me.”
Though she was a maiden, she knew what he was referring to. Mortified by her uncontrolled response, not understanding passion’s pull, she jerked her head to the side, trying to hide her face against her arm. “Don’t…say things like that. And don’t…look at me like that!”
“Why?”
“It’s embarrassing!” she all but wailed, tensing.
She felt him lean towards her but refused to open her eyes, to turn her head and look.
“How am I looking at you, Kagome?”
The way he said her name. In that voice. It was too intimate. Too wicked. And so erotic that she shivered. “Like you want to devour me,” she whispered, shocking herself that she answered. He made her too bold. Made her ache.
“Have you ever known a man before?”
Kagome blinked. It took her a moment to understand, and when she did, she blushed so hard she felt lightheaded. And anger. She turned to him with a fierce glare, affronted. “You dare question my virtue? I am a miko. I know my duty.”
The Inu no Kami—no, Sesshomaru—cocked his head, his glorious, silver mane gliding over his wide shoulder with the barest whisper. “I have angered you. I know not the customs of ningen. I assume, by your response, it is customary for miko to remain chaste of carnal pleasure?”
Having thought he’d issued an offhanded insult, Kagome relaxed at the guileless—if inhuman—eyes staring back at her. Unable to speak past her embarrassment, she could only nod.
Sesshomaru grinned, flashing fang. Her heart tripped in her chest, excitement making her clit throb at the wicked promise she saw light up his amber eyes.
“Your ningen customs are strange, yet they are to my gain. Bride, you are mine. In all ways. And after this night, there will be no question as to whom you belong.” He leaned down. Helpless to do anything but watch, Kagome felt them. His lips, kissing the flat expanse of her stomach, making her quiver. “As I belong to you.”
With that promise, his vow destroyed any semblance of resistance, so deeply was she affected. She didn’t protest when he kissed her navel, then lower. Kagome’s thighs trembled, tension rising as she waited for something she did not know, and was too afraid—too shy—to ask.
Sesshomaru’s voice had morphed into a growl, thrilling her. “I should take you slowly. Accustom you to the act of passion gradually.” His amber gaze flickered to her breasts, her nipples erect in painful points. “I should start from your head. Kissing you. From your lips. To your breasts. To those delectable little nipples. So pink. Like berries. Before starting lower.” She watched him swallow, her eyes widening when he settled between her thighs, the expanse of his shoulders forcing her thighs wide.
His voice rumbled deeper, a husky rasp. “But I cannot wait. Your scent calls to me.” She felt him, his breathe. Hot and moist. There.
When he’d lowered himself between her thighs, he’d been forced to bring her arms down from above her head. But he did not release her. He kept her trapped, his grip strong yet gentle as he held her hands above her sternum, even as she felt something slick dart between her wet folds, spearing her. Parting the delicate petals of her feminine flesh.
His tongue.
“Oh, please don’t!” She tried to yank free of his hold, but he held her securely, and when she jerked her hips to the side, he only pressed his free arm across her abdomen, pinning her down for the next, smooth glide of his tongue. He started at her opening, before tracing through her folds, to her clit. A gasp escaped her as a spasm shook her involuntarily with a shocking jolt of pleasure.
Sesshomaru growled, the sound feral. It should have terrified her. Instead, her arousal gushed from her, and he was there, lapping her up. This was no tentative sampling. He devoured her. First, he licked at her, from opening to tip. Over and over. And with each rasp of his tongue over her clit, she moaned, wishing, pleading for him to touch her there.
He ignored her and continued to lap at her like a dog with his meal. Keeping her on the edge, making her pant. To want.
Frustrating her until she cried out in agony. In unbearable need. “Please, Sesshomaru! Stop teasing me.”
“Yes, say my name, my bride,” he growled, the sound vibrating against her folds, making her cry out, her thighs rising, tensing around his shoulders.
Looking down her body at him, her breath caught. His eyes. They’d bled crimson, completely overtaking the white, while his honey irises now glowed an eerie blue. Her heart pounded. Trepidation. Excitement.
She burned. She ached.
“Sesshomaru, please.” Unable to voice her need, not wholly understanding what she was asking for, instead, she tried to move her hips. No longer did she seek escape. She wanted closer, or die in the inferno of passion’s fire.
Rather than answer with words, he snarled, lunging for her. Kagome’s head fell back on a loud cry as his lips wrapped around her clit, suckling, while his tongue continued to lash the bud relentlessly. It was too much too fast, but she couldn’t tell him. Couldn’t speak. Cry after cry was wrenched from her even as she felt tension rising, her stomach muscles bunching as she climbed some unknown precipice.
It was intense. It was terrifying.
Kagome shook her head and tried to yank out of his hold, but Sesshomaru held her fast even as she panted, “No, no, no! It’s too much, too much!” Then she was screaming, hurdling over an edge and into ecstasy. Waves of pleasure crashed through her, and they continued on and on, because Sesshomaru was unrelenting.
His tongue remained between her legs, but now, he thrust the wet appendage deep into her pussy as he ate at her release. He kept her there, pleasure blinding her with a spark of colorful stars as she trembled and shook for long moments, until she finally collapsed. Spent. Tremors continued to rock her as Sesshomaru lapped at her, gently now. A slow soothing swirl, before kissing her, the gesture too intimate. Too depraved.
Her trembling intensified when she felt it, a fluttering low in her belly. She knew what it was now. Arousal. She shook her head. “Please, not again. I can’t—! I need a moment. I can’t think when you do that!”
Sesshomaru rose above her, leaning over her, where he pressed her hands above her head again. Not letting her escape. His muscular thighs kept her legs spread wide, making her feel vulnerable. “No more thinking,” he told her with a soft rumble. “Only feel. Feel me, my bride.”
And she did. Kagome stiffened when a blunt object pressed against her entrance. She knew. Her trembling increased. In anticipation. In fear—of the unknown.
“Wait,” she whispered, tears misting her eyes.
Surprisingly, he did. Sesshomaru was tender when he cupped her cheek, before nuzzling the other. “Why do you weep?”
“I’m…afraid. I’ve never… I don’t know you and…”
Sesshomaru lowered one of her arms and pressed her palm flat against his chest, over the strong beat of his heart. Only then did she noticed that he’d shrugged out of his yukata at some point, for his was completely bare under her gaze, the sight of him stealing her breath away. But it was the sadness in his eyes that pierced her heart, the utter longing. The loneliness.
It called to her, touching an answering response in her own heart. Years of isolation, of caring for everyone else, while having no one of her own to come home to. No husband. No children. A future forever denied her.
The tears that fell from her eyes were no longer from fear and confusion, but compassion and understanding as she reached up to cup his cheek. Her heart melted when Sesshomaru nuzzled into her palm. He looked ferocious with the jagged slashes of his markings and the fangs that filled his mouth, but when he opened his lids to stare at her with those crimson eyes, she saw only gentleness—and need.
A need that resonated within her. He must have seen an answering look in her eyes, because he was suddenly pushing into her, hips flexing. Kagome stiffened, but didn’t stop him when he thrust forward, and moaned at the strange sensation when the round head of his shaft spread her entrance, made easy with the slick of her arousal.
“Look at me, Kagome.” When she did, Sesshomaru wrapped her arms around his neck. “Hold onto me.”
His hips surged forward, her eyes widening as he entered her deeper, spreading her. He was an invasion. Impossibly thick. It bordered on pain. He must have seen the hurt flicker in her eyes, for he stilled. Beneath her hands his muscles bunched, straining against his control as he forced himself to still.
Gritting his fangs on an expression of suffering, Sesshomaru sank onto his elbows, while burrowing a hand beneath her to squeeze the globe of her ass. Angling her.
“My bride, I take you as my wife.” His words thrilled her, until his next words gave her pause. A warning. “Just this once, be wounded by me.”
Then he was shoving into her, piercing through the evidence of her virtue, and deeper. Deeper. Until his hips collided against hers, jolting her. Kagome screamed, more in shock than the sting. He stretched her, impaled her. Sesshomaru was seated so deeply inside of her, she choked, unsure where he ended and she began. She was filled with him. Taken.
Loved. Cherished.
Once again, the Inu no Kami paused and cupped her face in his large palms, before kissing away the tears that fell down her cheeks.
“Forgive me, my bride. My wife.” He kissed her, a gentle taking, sipping at her lips.
Kagome tried to kiss him back, but she was shaking. Couldn’t think. Dared not move. She was too full. “You’re…too big.” And she too small.
“We fit.”
She shook her head. Impossible!
“Look.”
Without moving his pelvic, Sesshomaru angled up, away from her. When she hesitated, he grasped the back of her head and forced her eyes down her body. Her breasts were bare, his chest left exposed. The differences of their bodies, hers feminine, his undeniably masculine, sent her heart racing, her mouth going dry. Then she saw how intimately he pressed against her, his pelvic melding to her own. Her pubic hair was a dark contrast compared to Sesshomaru’s, black against his white.
Yin and yang.
Darkness and light.
Her pussy spasmed at the too intimate sight, sore muscles clenching around the imposing presence within her. She moaned, and heard an answering groan rip from his throat, and watched his abdominal muscles clench in the most erotic way that had her reaching for him. The short, silver hairs tickled her fingertips, they were so soft. Then her fingers went down…until she could feel their intimate connection.
Spreading her fingers on either side of the base of his wide shaft, she felt the base of his cock, and the wide spread of her folds, and they were covered in her arousal, the fluid sticky.
Sesshomaru shuddered, and when she looked up, she flushed. His crimson stare was riveting where they were joined. Where she was touching. Kagome yanked her hand away as though burned, but he was quick to grab her hand, and put it back in place.
“No, continue. Touch yourself.”
Choking on embarrassment, Kagome could do nothing but watch as he showed her what he meant. Using two of her fingers, he pressed them against her clit, and moved them in a circular motion.
Kagome cried out, her hips jerking into her hand, and caused Sesshomaru’s shaft to rub inside her, deep inside. Against her womb. His groan mirrored hers as he continued to play with her clit, using her own fingers.
“Watch!” A command, a snarl. “Watch as you pleasure yourself. As you come apart around my cock.”
His words were vulgar, yet she responded with humiliating eagerness. With pleasure. She touched herself without his help, finding a circular rhythm that drove her wild, and suddenly, she didn’t feel too stuffed. The fullness, the stretching, felt right. But she needed more, and didn’t know what, so she rubbed harder, circling faster, and jerked in surprise when she felt fingers at her nipples.
She’d closed her eyes in bliss, but now they were wide open. Watching as Sesshomaru toyed with her breasts, plucking at the hard peaks with firm little pulls and hard pinches that made her eyes roll back, her lips parting on a silent scream.
She was so close, so close…
Then Sesshomaru’s mouth was there, suckling on her nipple, pulling on hard draws, while lashing the bud with the flat of his tongue. Crying out, writhing under the intensity of the sensations, Kagome pressed her clit harder, and, following the pinching guidance against her nipple between Sesshomaru’s fingers, she tweaked her clit. Soft. Then harder.
Kagome came apart with a shriek, shuddering and clawing at his back with both hands when she reached up to cling to the only thing left of reality. Sesshomaru. Her Inu no Kami.
Before the convulsions stopped, he was thrusting, his hips pumping in and out of her in powerful surges. Sesshomaru took her, claiming her in a fierce, hard pace that stole her breath and sent her hurdling into another earth-shattering climax.
He curled over her without slowing his pace, having to curve his spine in a deep arch so he could kiss her—and kiss her he did. Hand wrapped around her throat, she felt his claws gently scrape against her, reminding her that he wasn’t human, reminding her of the danger of who and what he was, which only made her gush more fluid as he fucked her through the tightening of her muscles as she neared another precipice.
She tasted herself on his tongue that he forced into her mouth, a spiced tanginess that should have disgusted her, but aroused her unbearably. That he’d tasted her. Was making her taste herself.
His dominance. Her submission.
Kagome came with a keening wail that Sesshomaru caught and ate, even as he gave her his snarl of pleasure when her pussy clamped down on him in rhythmic pulsations.
Sesshomaru ripped his mouth from hers and thrust against her once powerfully, before holding still, deep inside her. Sweat coated both of their bodies, dripping down his face. His fangs were clenched, bared as he held still. “Not yet,” he snarled. “I will not spend until I am satisfied.”
Then he impaled her with a fierce stare, crimson eyes consuming her. “Need you. Waited too damn long for you.”
When she calmed, he shoved his hands behind her back to yank her upright. With a gasp, Kagome found herself seated on his lap, with his cock buried deep inside her. Somehow, he pushed deeper than before, making her head drop back, her mouth falling open on desperate pants.
Grabbing her buttocks, he lifted her with ease, as though she weighed nothing at all, before dropping her onto his thick shaft, while his hips surged upwards, impaling her at the same time. He bounced her on his cock, and all Kagome could do was wrap her arms around her muscular shoulders and hold onto him with sharp cries of delight.
His cock surged within her, hard and impossibly deep. She felt him clear to her naval. Deeper. Opening her eyes, she watched him take her, watched how her pussy swallowed him up. He appeared too large, his girth spreading her so wide she still felt a sting. Of pain. Of pleasure.
Kagome wrapped her legs around his waist, tightening her thighs to hug him close, as the wet sounds of their lovemaking overpowered the pounding of her heart, but not the helpless cries her lover, her Inu no Kami, pulled from her. He forced her to towards that edge, to climb that invisible ladder of pleasure, but the demands he placed upon her was too much.
How many times had she come already? And he hadn’t even orgasmed once.
She shook her head, her forehead rubbing against his pecs, slick with his sweat. “No more, Sesshomaru! I can’t—! I can’t take it anymore,” she ended on a helpless moan when he thrust inside her harder than before, stabbing deep. It hurt. Felt good.
“Do that again!” A command. A plea, even as she needed him to stop, or she’d go insane.
He did it again. Once, twice. Thrice. Kagome came on a silent scream, collapsing against Sesshomaru, who took her down to the bed. Curling over her on his knees, supporting himself on his forearms above her, he rutted her limp body. Used her like a rag doll. Because she was his. His to use and abuse, to fuck and to love.
And Kagome’s heart swelled as she wrapped her arms around the back of his head, holding him close when he thrust inside her as deep as he could go, before holding still. She felt it, deep inside. An explosion. Something hot. Sesshomaru’s release set off another orgasm, her pussy convulsing, trying to pull every last drop he had to give her, and hold it deep inside.
He was not silent. His roar of completion, of conquest, rang around them, an animalistic sound that was terrifying to hear, but only added to her pleasure. The fear. The thrill.
“You are mine.” Her words. She claimed him even as tiredness encroached, seeking to drag her down into oblivion.
Before succumbing to blissful slumber, she felt Sesshomaru shift them until they were resting on their sides without leaving the hot, wet clasp of her body, and press a tender kiss to the top of her head. “As you are mine.”
Those words followed her, and Kagome dreamed the sweetest of dreams, knowing that when she woke, she would never be alone again.
She was wanted. Loved.
She was the Inu no Kami’s bride.