Archive of Our Own

The morning sun dappled the forest floor, casting long, shifting shadows through the canopy as Rin made her way back toward the village. Her basket was full of spices and herbs, the scent of ginger and damp earth clinging to her hands. She was humming something sweet, her footsteps light on the moss, when a stifled sound made her freeze. 

Low voices. One gruff and impatient, the other soft and breathless.

Curious, it pulled her off the path and toward a cluster of trees. She crept closer, peering through a thicket of ferns. And then she saw them. 

Kagome and Inuyasha, half-hidden by the trunk of an ancient oak. They thought they were alone. Inuyasha was pressed against Kagome, his back to Rin, one hand braced against the tree. Kagome’s face was turned to the side, a worried frown creasing her brow.

"C'mon, Kagome, relax," Inuyasha grumbled. “You're wound up tighter than a bowstring."

"Someone could see us," she whispered, glancing around nervously.

"Keh," he scoffed. His other hand, Rin now saw with a jolt, had vanished beneath the hem of Kagome’s strange, short skirt. "Let 'em. Besides, my ears ain't just for show. I'd hear anyone comin' from a mile off. Right now, there's nothin' but us." 

The irony was lost on the half-demon; for all his boasting about his superior senses he was deaf to Rin crouching only ten yards away.

"Now stop thinkin' so much," he murmured, his voice softening slightly as he leaned in, his lips brushing her ear. "Just... feel."

He pressed his hips harder against hers, grinding slowly.

"Inuyasha!" Kagome squeaked, her face flaming red, but her legs parted even as she protested.

"That's it. Just let me make you feel good,” he encouraged, impatience winning out. 

Wide-eyed, Rin watched as his clawed hand slid down Kagome’s waist, bunched up the fabric of her short green skirt, and disappeared beneath it. His shoulder moved rhythmically as Kagome’s head thumped back against the tree bark. A flush bloomed high on her cheeks, and a soft, breathless sound escaped her lips. It wasn’t a sound of pain. It was a sound of… something else. Something secret and overwhelming.

Rin felt a strange quiver low in her belly. She backed away slowly, worried that Inuyasha would finally snap out of his haze and smell her, but he never did. He was too busy pinning Kagome against the tree.

The image burned in her mind for the rest of the day. The look on Kagome’s face… pain and pleasure twisted together.

Later, she found the courage to approach Kagome as she washed clothes in the river. 

“Kagome,” Rin began, her voice barely a whisper. “What was Inuyasha doing to you? Earlier?”

Kagome stilled, the wet cloth in her hands dripping into the water. “Oh, you saw that?” 

Rin nodded brightly, sitting back on her heels as she waited for an explanation.

My ears ain’t just for show, Kagome recalled Inuyasha’s smug voice. There's nothin' but us. Her eye twitched. Liar. “I’ll sit him,” she vowed under her breath. “That’s what I’ll do. I’m going to sit him into the bedrock.”

“Kagome?”

Kagome looked away for a moment, then met Rin’s eyes with a surprisingly steady gaze. “It’s… something people do when they care for each other very much.” 

“Sex?” Rin asked plainly. 

Kagome coughed, her composure breaking for a split second. “That too. But we didn’t go that far.”

“What were you doing then?” 

“Touching. Kissing,” Kagome clarified, her expression softening.

“And that's okay to do in the woods?” 

"Sometimes," Kagome confirmed, a small, genuine smile finally playing on her lips.

She looked at Rin, really looking at her. At eighteen, the girl was still, well, untouched. If Kagome didn’t know any better, she’d guess that was exactly how Sesshomaru preferred it. She couldn’t imagine him allowing another male to even think of courting Rin, let alone touch her. It was such an odd place for Rin to be. Completely protected, yet effectively ignored by the protector. 

Kagome wrung out the cloth with a final, decisive twist. "You know, Rin, if it’s something you're curious about, you should talk to Lord Sesshomaru. He isn't like Inuyasha—he won't play guessing games. You have to be brave and tell him exactly what you want."

Tell him. The thought was terrifying. But the memory of Kagome’s face, and the strange, new thrum of curiosity deep in Rin’s own belly was more powerful than her fear. 

She found him later that evening just before dark, meditating by a waterfall, the spray misting his silver hair. He was a statue of impossible perfection, remote and untouchable. For a full minute, she just stood there, gathering the scraps of her courage. Finally, she forced a breath into her lungs.

“My lord?”

One golden eye opened, pinning her in place. He did not speak, but the single glance was an invitation to continue.

"I..." She swallowed hard, her throat dry. "I saw Inuyasha today. With Kagome."

Sesshomaru said nothing, though his brows furrowed slightly, a flicker of distaste for his half-brother's name.

"He was touching her," Rin continued, her voice barely audible against the roar of the falls. "Kagome looked like she was in a spell. She said... she said I should ask you if I wanted to know." She took a step closer, her heart racing faster than it had in the woods. "Would Lord Sesshomaru touch me? Like that?"

Sesshomaru finally turned his head. His eyes swept over her, cool and unreadable. He looked at her for a long moment, and then, abruptly, his attention snapped to the left. 

His ears twitched. He stared into the forest, nostrils flaring slightly as he scented the wind. A passing wolf? A shift in the demonic aura of the forest? For ten agonizing seconds, he seemed to have forgotten she was there, his instincts pulled by some invisible thread in the night.

Rin began to lower her head in shame.

But then his gaze snapped back to her, sharp and sudden. 

“Touch Rin where?” he asked flatly. 

Slowly, her hand moved. Starting at her lips, then her shoulder, it slid down, past her ribs, past the tie of her kimono, until her palm pressed flat against the soft fabric over her lower stomach.

“Here,” she whispered, her voice trembling but certain.

Sesshomaru’s gaze traveled slowly, agonizingly, from her face to her hand pressed below her waist. For the first time, he looked genuinely paralyzed.

“Kagome said it’s what people do when they care for each other,” Rin continued, her heart beating so hard she was sure he could hear it. She took one more step, her hand still pressed firmly against herself, drawing his eyes to the reality of her womanhood. 

“Does Lord Sesshomaru not care for Rin that way?”

Stillness. The waterfall seemed to amplify it.

He turned his head toward the falling water, his profile sharp and distant. The silence stretched between them. 

Rin felt a cold hollow open in her chest. He’s going to ignore me, she thought, her eyes stinging. He’s going to walk away and never look at me again.

Just as she began to pull her hand back in shame, he sat on a large, flat boulder. 

"Come, Rin.”

He gestured to the space between his spread legs. 

Shaking, Rin moved forward until she stood trapped within the circle of his knees. Sesshomaru watched her, his expression clinical, almost bored, yet there was a darkness in his eyes that hadn't been there before. He reached out. His hand moved with impossible gentleness. One clawed finger hooked the edge of her kimono, pulling the fabric aside to bare her legs to the night air.

He didn't hesitate. His hand slid up her inner thigh, the contrast of his cool, dry skin against her heat making her gasp. He found the center of her, his touch precise, exploring the dampness there with withdrawn curiosity.

"Ah!" Rin jerked, her hands gripping his hakama for balance. It was electric. It was the same feeling she’d felt watching Inuyasha with Kagome, but heightened a thousand times.

He moved his fingers against her clit, testing her reaction, watching her face flush and her eyes lose focus. It was overwhelming. She was on the precipice of something incredible when he suddenly quit and his hand withdrew instantly, the pleasure vanishing as he let her kimono fall back into place.

The loss of contact was a physical shock. 

Sesshomaru stood up, towering over her, his face twisting in a subtle scowl. He looked down at his own hand, then at her. He seemed bothered, irritated by a thought she couldn't guess.

Without a word, he turned away and resumed his position by the waterfall as if the last minute had never happened. He offered no explanation, no comfort, and no dismissal. He simply ceased, leaving her standing in the mist, shivering and burning all at once.

Five years. 

In the lifespan of a demon, five years was a blink, a single breath taken between thoughts. But for a human woman it was an era. The difference between soft adolescence and the hardened reality of adulthood.

Rin was twenty-three now. Most of the baby fat had melted from her cheeks, leaving elegant cheekbones. Her body had filled out, curving in ways that drew the eyes of men in the village—all sorts, it seemed, except the one who mattered.

They sat in the field of wildflowers, a ritual they had maintained for over a decade. The wind rolled through the tall grass like an invisible ocean, carrying the scent of clover and sun-baked earth. To an observer it was a painting of serenity: the great dog demon lord and his human ward, resting in peaceful silence.

But inside Rin, there was no peace. There was only a screaming, clawing frustration that had been building since that night by the waterfall. From the moment his touch ignited her only to abandon her to unrequited feelings.

She looked at him. Sesshomaru sat staring off into space, his profile etched in pale indifference. He was perfect. He was beautiful. And he was a wall.

She had tried. Gods, she had tried. Subtle touches, lingering glances, open invitations. She cried once, thinking her tears could move him. He deflected them all with a mastery that bordered on cruelty. Not with words, but with a total lack of engagement. He treated her desire like a child’s tantrum, something to be ignored until it passed.

But it hadn’t. It festered.

Rin plucked a blue flower by its stem and crushed it between her fingers. "You don't want me," she said.

It wasn't a question. Her voice didn't tremble. It was flat and heavy with a resignation that finally broke the silence of the field.

Sesshomaru didn’t look at her. "Rin…" 

"No, don't 'Rin' me," she snapped, the sudden sharpness of her tone making the fur on his shoulder bristle slightly. "I’m not a girl anymore, Lord Sesshomaru. I’m twenty-three. Twenty-three. I know what that look means. I know what your silence means."

She turned her body fully toward him, her knees crushing the vibrant blooms beneath her. "You don't want me. I just finally accepted it today. Sitting here, watching you ignore me for the thousandth time."

Sesshomaru finally met her gaze. His eyes were calm, irritatingly so. "You are under my protection. That is sufficient."

"Protection isn't enough!" Rin cried out, her hands balling into fists in her lap. "I am flesh and blood, my lord! I have feelings. I have a heart that beats fast and... and needs." She took a ragged breath. "And if you won't provide it, I have to look elsewhere. Kohaku is interested in me."

The name landed between them like a stone dropped in a still pond. Sesshomaru’s expression didn't change, but the air around them suddenly grew heavy, the static charge of his aura prickling against Rin’s skin.

"Kohaku," she repeated, emboldened by the shift in the atmosphere. "He is always showing up where I am in the village. Carrying my water. Fixing my roof. Bringing me things. He looks at me, my lord. He looks at me like I’m a woman, not a girl." 

She looked away, staring at the distant tree line. "I think I will let him court me. He is kind. He is human. And I won't die without knowing what it's like to be loved. I won't wither away as a virgin just because my lord finds humans distasteful."

"You will do no such thing," Sesshomaru said. His voice was stripped of its usual detached elegance. It was cold and possessed a jagged edge. "I will not tolerate another sniffing around you."

Rin whipped her head back to him, her jaw dropping. "Sniffing around? Is that what you think I am? Territory?"

"You belong to this Sesshomaru," he stated, as if reciting a law of physics. "The slayer has no claim."

"I am not a piece of land!" Rin scrambled to her feet, her shadow falling over him. The resentment that had been simmering for five years finally boiled over. "You have condemned me to a loveless life! Do you understand that? You want to keep me in a jar on a shelf, perfect and untouched, until I die of old age!"

She crossed her arms. "A life without intimacy. Without warmth. Without sex. That is what you are forcing on me! You are selfish, my lord. You want me here, by your side, but you refuse to be with me. Well, Kohaku would be with me. He would hold me. He would touch me!"

Sesshomaru looked up at her. The mention of another male touching her, actually laying hands on the skin he had saved from the underworld, the skin he had watched mature, triggered a violent rejection in his mind. He saw it clearly: the slayer’s rough hands on Rin’s waist as he bent her forward. The slayer’s scent masking the scent that belonged to Rin.

It was unacceptable.

The logic of his refusal had always been sound to him. She was fragile. Mortal. He had held back out of a form of preservation. But as he looked at her now, he realized that he was maintaining a protective role that kept her close without acknowledging what closeness can cost. 

His hesitation wasn’t preserving her so much as it was a slow push toward loss. And the alternative, handing her over to the slayer, allowing a mediocre human existence to claim her, was physically revolting to him.

He stood up. The movement was fluid and predatory, unfolding his height until he loomed over her. Rin took a step back, her bravery faltering slightly under the intensity of his gaze.

"My lord?"

"You speak of damnation," Sesshomaru said quietly, stepping into her personal space. "You believe I have condemned you to a cold existence."

"Haven't you?" 

He didn’t know the outcome of a union between them. Didn’t know if a human could survive the consuming passion of a demon’s claim without shattering. He had his own frustrations to bear just as any warm-blooded male would. But the clarity of his decision was final.

He could not let another have her. Ever. 

"If Rin requires intimacy to remain by my side," he said, his thumb brushing the line of her jaw, sharp and possessive, "then the slayer is unnecessary."

He leaned in, his silver hair falling like a curtain around them, a white-silk veil that shut out the rest of the world. The scent of the wildflowers vanished, replaced entirely by him.

"Do not speak his name again," he commanded, his golden eyes burning with a dark, newfound hunger. "If it is heat you crave, Rin, you shall have it. But understand this… once I touch you as a man might, you cannot return to the world of humans. You will be mine until the day your heart stops beating. Is that the 'warmth' you wanted?"

"Yes!" 

The word left her lips before the air had even cooled from his question.

Rin’s answer seemed to strike him harder than any blade ever could. He pulled her flush against him, and for a moment, the great demon lord felt a tremor he couldn't name. It wasn't fear. Sesshomaru did not fear. 

Beneath the surface, his mind was racing. He was a creature of absolute precision, yet as he looked at the soft, yielding curve of her throat, he realized he didn't know the "precision" required for this. He knew how to kill, how to command, and how to protect. He did not know how to love a mortal. 

And now, thanks to Rin, he can no longer delay finding out. 

The journey to the camp was a blur of shadows and moonlight.

They arrived at the forest where Jaken had established a perimeter. The little demon was dutifully tending a small fire, prodding the embers with a stick while A-un slumbered nearby.

Jaken jumped to his feet the moment Sesshomaru stepped into the light. "Milord! You have returned! I have prepared the—"

"Jaken," Sesshomaru interrupted, his voice smooth and devoid of any emotion that might betray the storm raging inside him.

"Yes, Milord?"

"I have a task for you," Sesshomaru said, his gaze fixed somewhere above Jaken’s head. "Go to the northern ridge. Find the silver moon flower that grows only on the underside of the precipice. I require it."

Jaken blinked, his large eyes widening. "The... the northern ridge? But Milord, that is leagues away! And climbing in the dark is…"

Sesshomaru narrowed his eyes a fraction of a millimeter.

"I go at once!" Jaken shrieked, sensing the sharp edge in the air. He scrambled to gather his staff before scurrying into the darkness, his complaints fading into the rustle of the underbrush.

Then, there was silence. Only the crackle of the fire and the low snoring of A-un remained.

Rin stood by the fire, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. She waited. Every nerve ending in her body was singing, tuned to his frequency. She expected him to close the distance immediately and kiss her. Instead, Sesshomaru moved with agonizing slowness. He walked to the base of a massive tree at the edge of the firelight and sat down. 

He looked like a statue. Composed. Distant.

Rin stared at him, the flames of the campfire reflecting in her bewildered eyes. Minutes ticked by. A log snapped in the fire, sending a shower of sparks upward. 

Was he waiting for her? Or was he reconsidering? The doubt began to creep in. Had the moment in the flower fields been a lapse in judgment?

No, Rin thought. He said I was his. He said there was no turning back.

And if she was his, then that could only mean that he was hers too.

She was done with the distance. 

Rin took a breath, filling her lungs with woodsmoke and courage, and crossed the camp. The dry leaves crunched softly under her feet, but he didn't move.

She stopped right in front of him. Still nothing.

Without a word, Rin stepped between his knees. She didn't ask for permission. Hiking up her kimono to allow her legs freedom, she climbed onto him. She settled herself squarely on his lap, her legs straddling his waist, her knees pressing into the soft silk of his hakama. 

The position was intimate and undeniable. She could feel the solid, hard muscle of his thighs beneath her and the heat of his body seeping through their layers of clothing.

She watched his eyes shut. 

Rin placed her hands on his chest, right over the armor, feeling the slow, powerful thud of his heart.

Sesshomaru’s eyes opened and made her skin prickle. He hadn't been contemplating ignoring her; he had been meditating to keep from taking her the moment they were alone.

And now, she was in his lap.

She leaned in, her breath a warm caress against the shell of his ear. "Lord Sesshomaru," she murmured, her voice a low, velvety thing he had never heard from her before. It was the voice of the woman she had become while he pretended not to notice.

Rin adjusted her legs, the movement deliberate and slow. The friction was immediate—the soft give of her thighs meeting the unyielding, rock-hard ridge beneath the silk. She felt him twitch an involuntary spasm that betrayed the stone mask of his face.

She looked down at the point of contact, her eyes lingering on the way the hakama tented, strained to its limit by the size of him. Then, she looked up, her expression the definition of feigned curiosity that didn’t quite cover the hunger in her gaze.

“Who was it who told me powerful demons have strict control over their bodies again? That nothing happens without their permission?”

It started as a subtle shift, a mere readjustment of her weight. But it was a lie. It was a purposeful tilt of her hips, a slow, circular grind that sent a tremor through his entire body.

“I did,” he said. 

“Is this…” she paused, looking him in the eye, “is this happening with your permission? It feels so hard.”

She heard him swallow. His gaze drifted upward, lost in the trees for a fleeting second before his lids shut.

"Remember, by the waterfall?" she whispered, her hips not ceasing their tantalizing movement. "You deprived me."

His eyes landed on her face. No malice or revenge. It was an open plea, a desperate need to be met, to be seen.

"You wouldn't let me finish," she continued, her voice trembling slightly, but her hips, oh, her hips were steady. Sure. They rocked against him, a relentless tide wearing away at the stone of his composure. "Will you let me now? Will you finish what you started all those years ago?"

It was a small, involuntary cant of his own hips, a push upward to meet her downward press. A reflex. He hadn't willed it. He wasn't even aware of it until he saw the flash of triumph in her eyes. She knew. She felt it. She had felt him move against her, with her.

"Rin—" Her name was supposed to be a blade, a sharp warning. But it came out as a rasp, rough with gravel and rust. The words meant to follow would have told her they should pace themselves into what she was demanding of him.

“What, my lord?” She tried to press her advantage, speaking sweetly to cement her victory over him. "You see?" she breathed, but her voice was a flutter, a ghost of a sound. "You... you can't even..." Her sentence fractured as he shifted beneath her, his powerful thighs tensing. His body was now actively seeking the pressure, the friction. The hunter was beginning to hunt back.

"Rin... will... stop..."

"I can't..." she sighed, her breath muffled in his fur. 

Instead of pushing her away, his claws gripped her kimono, bunching the silk in his fists as his hands settled on the swell of her hips. It was meant to be an anchor, an act of control, a way to still the slow wind that was systematically dismantling his control. But his grip tightened, pulling her down, crushing her more firmly against the ridge of his cock as he buried his face in the crook of her neck. 

The conversation had devolved into the most animal language of all—heavy, ragged breathing and the frantic pulse of a human heart meeting the slow, thundering rhythm of a demon’s. Two bodies operating on conflicting biological clocks, yearning anyway.

For a moment, he leaned into it. Lost, drowning in her scent and the press of their bodies. Next, his instincts for restraint screamed into action. He caught her under the arms. He didn't push her. He simply lifted her as if that delicious, warm weight of hers was nothing at all, and deposited her on the cool ground beside him.

The severance was brutal. A void of cold air rushed between them, and the sudden silence was deafening, broken only by their ragged, panting breaths. 

Rin let out a sharp cry of protest, a wounded sound of pure, thwarted need. She stared at the empty space on his lap, then at him, her eyes wide with disbelief and a burgeoning fury.

Sesshomaru flat-out refused to look at her. He stared fixedly at the surrounding forest, his jaw a hard line of granite. His own body was a traitor, still throbbing for the contact he had just denied it. 

"This," he began. He had to force the words past the lump of impeded desire in his throat. "This... ends. Now. It was a mistake."

He was speaking to himself as much as to her. He was trying to rebuild the wall, to re-inscribe the lines she had so eagerly erased. He was the Lord of the West. She was his ward. How can he fuck her?

Rin did not plead. She did not weep. She simply listened to him, her breath still coming in short, sharp pants. As he spoke his final, hollow word, a flicker of something new and dangerous lit her eyes.

While he was still staring into the darkness, steeling himself against her, she moved. 

She didn’t ask. She didn’t hesitate. She rose to her knees—as he was adjusting his very obvious erection—and put herself back onto the seat she had just been evicted from. He said her name, but it was too late. She was already there, grabbing his shoulders for leverage with a determined look on her face.

And then she repositioned herself. 

She lowered herself directly onto his erection, sinking until it filled the cradle of her lips completely.  She looked him dead in the eye, her gaze burning with an accusation that went beyond mere lust.

How dare you remove me? 

The sentiment was so clear, it was as if she had screamed it. 

He was cracking. The fine lines of his composure were splintering into a spiderweb of fissures. He saw not the girl he had protected, but a woman who was taking him, begging him to take her, a force of nature that would not be denied.

She leaned in, her forehead pressing against his. "Please..." she begged, the word broken by a particularly deep press of his hips between hers. This was not an elegant coupling. Too raw, clumsy, human. The desperate fumbling of the inexperienced, a regression to the most primal, unthinking form of intimacy. Dry humping. And it was utterly consuming.

“Touch me… like you did before.” She rocked forward, her hair brushing his cheek. “It felt so good. Please, Lord Sesshomaru.”

His eyes were no longer glazed, no longer fractured by restraint. They sharpened, narrowing to as they fixed on her. Whatever hesitation had claimed him moments before was gone. If this line was to be crossed, it would be crossed deliberately.

“Very well, Rin,” he said at last. “You will not relent. Neither will I.”

His hands clamped onto her waist, pulling her from his lap once more with a jerk that stole her breath. He turned her and laid her on the expanse of his fur in the light of the fire, her robes already in disarray. The efficiency of the act chilling because it wasn’t a lover’s tender handling. It was the positioning of an object of focused intent.

He knelt between her parted legs, hair cascading forward and framing the predator within. As his large hands reached for the ties of her robes, an unbearable image flooded her mind. Embarrassment seized her, and she flinched, her body going rigid. 

She would die. 

If that perfect face descended to her privates, the shame would kill her.

"Do not," he said when she tried to stop him. He did not need to raise his voice. 

One sharp claw extended, slicing her obi loose. He pushed the fabric aside with an unnerving purpose, exposing her to the flickering firelight and his undivided, searing gaze.

Rin gasped, the sound tearing from her throat as the cool night air hit her skin. She was completely exposed to him: naked breasts, the pale curve of her belly, the dark triangle of hair, and the glistening slit.  

“Ah, here it is, already eager,” he said darkly, “this sweet little cunt, and how I’m going to taste it.” 

“Taste?” she stammered, hips twisting in a confusion of terror and ecstasy. She never heard Sesshomaru utter something so filthy before. “I said I wanted you to touch me.”

“And Rin will be touched… by the very instrument of my appetite.”

Rin whimpered as his hands slid beneath her thighs, his thumbs pressing into her flesh, prying her open. She was weeping for him, a clear nectar coating her entrance and slicking the sensitive skin of her inner labia. Her eyes shut, legs draped over his shoulders, bracing for what was to come next.

The first contact was a long, broad stroke from the bottom of her opening straight up to the hooded peak.

Her eyes flew open in shock. 

He was there debasing himself between her legs, silver hair a halo against the dark earth. He tasted salt and sweetness, the unique, addictive flavor of her desire. 

And he was watching her. 

Not leering, precisely. Unnervingly. 

The moment her gaze locked with his, his lids fell slightly, as if her awareness of him was a command to delve deeper into the shallow entrance to taste the heavy flow of her juices.

But his target was the pearl hiding beneath its sheath.

Sesshomaru moved higher, his nose burying into her soft hair, his chin pressing firmly against the lower curve of her hot cunt. He found the little nub already swollen and swirled the tip of his tongue around it. 

A wave of dizzying pleasure crashed over Rin, so potent it felt like drowning in warm water. She arched her back, a helpless, broken moan escaping her lips.

"You are opening for me," he observed, his words a low, dark murmur against her. "Is this the feeling you begged for, Rin? To be taken apart by this mouth?"

"Yes," she sobbed. “Oh, God yes.”

She tried to close her eyes, to lose herself in the overwhelming sensation, but his voice was an anchor, a command.

"Look at me."

She obeyed instantly. She lifted her heavy head, forcing herself to focus on him. 

Sesshomaru was watching her features contort, holding her eyes captive as he flattened his warm tongue and pressed the little bud against her pubic bone in a slow, writhing undulation.

Under the pressure, he felt it stiffening. It grew harder, more defined, gorged with blood until it emerged from its hood begging for more stimulation. A hard little gem in a sea of softness, and he treated it with a mix of reverence and hunger.

Her world unraveled, dissolving into the oblivion of his mouth. He was talking her through her own devouring, his cold, muffled words fanning the flames of a pleasure so earth-shattering her vision went white. 

Her head filled with the vulgar sounds of his feast. He wasn’t being quiet about it either. He drank from her, drawing the excess moisture from her folds with an audible swallow, then sighing as if having sipped a refreshing drink of water. 

When he finally broke the contact, he lifted his head only slightly, his gaze remaining fixed downward, locked onto the mess he had made. He didn’t look up at her face during this. His world had narrowed entirely to the flesh between his claws.

“This little pearl,” he murmured, speaking to her engorged clit as if they were alone in the forest. “Swelling to meet my tongue. It begs to be… it…” 

Sesshomaru didn’t finish the thought. He switched tactics suddenly, forming his lips into a tight seal around the distended nub. He began to suckle, pulling on the sensitive bundle, drawing it deep into his mouth while flicking the very tip with rapid-fire lashings of his tongue. 

The reaction was instantaneous.

Rin squeezed his face between her thighs. “Stop… no… don’t… don’t stop… too much… don’t stop…” 

Delirium. Raw nerve endings firing signals directly to her vocal cords. 

He paused only long enough to vibrate a low, dark hum against her. “Hn? Rin cannot form words?”

Rin could hardly answer. She could scarcely even breathe. Her hips jerked upward in a sharp, trembling arc, locking there, her entire frame quivering in a way she could no longer control as she was driven toward the edge.

His claws shot out. Not to caress, but to grip her hips, pinning her to his fur as he felt the first tremor of her collapse. He held her fast, refusing to let her squirm away. 

Under his chin, pressed tight against her perineum and the lower opening of her cunt, he felt the change. Her internal muscles began to clamp down. He could feel the contractions rippling through her, a rhythmic squeezing that pushed against his jawbone. Her clit inside the heat of his mouth was going wild now. Twitching violently, jumping and throbbing against his tongue as if it were trying to escape the very stimulation it craved. It was rock hard, and he hummed approvingly as her entire body stiffened.

Rin came so hard she screamed. It echoed into the night, her back arching off the furs as he drank her cries and her fluids with equal greed. He didn't pull away. He stayed right there, exhaling harshly through his nose, his mouth fused to  that spasming little knot with the relentless suction of a leech.

Only when the last violent convulsion had faded into a lingering shudder did he pull back, the dying staccato of her pulse still ghosting against his lips.

Finally, after five years, he had let her finish. 

Sesshomaru gave Rin some space. He sat with his back against the tree, eyes closed. He was processing, cataloging, filing away the sensory data of her complete undoing to carry with him for the rest of his immortal life. 

Rin lay sprawled on a bed of his fur, her body weightless and languid, her skin still humming with the aftershocks. But her mind was wired. The self-consciousness that had paralyzed her earlier was long gone, burned away inside of his mouth and replaced by a hollow, aching need that was entirely new. She had hungered before, but never like this. She felt incomplete. 

“Lord Sesshomaru?”

One eye opened, a sliver of gold in the shadows.

Rin sat up slowly, the soft fur slipping from her shoulders to pool at her waist, leaving her breasts bare to the night air. “I want more.” 

When he remained silent, simply watching her with that unnerving stillness, she clarified.

“I want more of your mouth.”

For the first time all night, a flicker of genuine amusement crossed his features. It wasn’t a smile. Sesshomaru doesn’t smile. But a shift in the corner of his lips softened his mask. 

“A minute ago, the thought mortified you,” he recalled, his voice a velvety sound that seemed to stroke her skin from across the distance. “And now you beg for it.” He tilted his head, his gaze analytical, dissecting her soul as easily as he had her body. “Tell me, Rin, what about it has made you so greedy?”

Rin moved, crawling on her hands and knees across the furs until she was kneeling between his legs. She liked the way Sesshomaru was openly staring at her naked body. She put her hands on his armored chest. The heat radiating from him made her shiver.

“I think my lord is misunderstanding me,” she said. “You tasted me, but you didn’t think to share yourself.”

Sesshomaru’s brow arched slightly. “Share myself?” 

“I want to taste you, too,” she whispered, her gaze dropping to his lips—those thin, cruel, beautiful lips that had just ruined her. “I want your mouth on mine.”

A kiss. It was such a human request. So trivial, and yet far more intimate than the act he had just performed. To put his mouth on her sex was ownership; to put his mouth on hers was a communion.

“You are a sentimental creature.” His hand came up, his claws grazing the side of her neck as he tipped her chin upward. “You wish to taste yourself on my tongue? Is that it?”

“You say dirty things, Lord Sesshomaru,” she murmured.

He leaned in slowly, his face stopping just inches from hers. For a heartbeat, they both just lingered there, breathing each other’s air. 

The first touch was light. Just a warm press of his lips against hers. 

Rin’s eyes drifted shut. The forest went quiet. All she could feel was the heat radiating from him and the texture of his mouth. Slowly, the pressure deepened. Her head tilted, tentative and searching. A soft sound broke the silence as their lips parted just enough to catch, and she felt a shiver run through her. 

Rin tried to pull him closer, but the cold rigidity of his armor stopped her.

“Make this go away,” she whispered against his lips, tugging on the points of his breastplate. 

Supposing this is what she truly meant about not ‘sharing himself,’ Sesshomaru willed the armor to vanish, the metal dissolving into the ether. When the kiss resumed, it was different. 

Without the barrier, she could feel the hard, broad planes of his chest. His mouth was so soft, patient, and teasing—

The dam broke. 

Rin moaned as the kiss turned ravenous, shifting from exploration to starvation.

He slanted his mouth over hers, devouring her sighs, his tongue sweeping past her teeth to tangle with hers. She tasted the distinct, musky sweetness of her own fluids that he had just consumed. She was kissing herself on his lips, and it was a loop of narcissism and devotion that made her head spin.

Driven by the heart-tightening passion of it, Rin’s hands abandoned his shoulders and slid down his chest. Her fingers were trembling, fumbling with the intricate silk ties of his kimono. She was desperate as she sought the skin beneath the robes. Sesshomaru didn't help her; he leaned into her, his mouth never leaving hers, his breath hitching as her small, warm hands worked against the knots.

Finally, the obi gave way.

Rin pushed the heavy sleeves down his arms, baring him to the waist. She broke the kiss just enough to gasp for air, her forehead resting against his. "Better," she said, her fingers trailing on his skin. "I can feel you now."

Her hands wandered lower, mapping the dip of his waist and the hard, tensed planes of his stomach. 

He was so solid, impossibly so. She felt small against him, fragile, like nothing at all, yet she was the one making this powerful creature go rigid with every pass of her hands. She couldn't stop. She was possessed by the need to know every inch of the demon who had just spent the night devouring her. 

Finally, Rin could no longer endure the small space remaining between them. She leaned in, sliding her arms around his neck and pressing her naked chest firmly against the broad, warm expanse of his.

The contact was an electric shock. The smell of him a thrill. Aching breasts crushed against an unyielding torso. She pressed closer as she boldly took his mouth, trying to merge their heartbeats, delighting in the radiating warmth of his demon blood.

Sesshomaru’s arms finally came around her, his hands splaying across the small of her back to lock her against him. Claws roamed over her skin, trailing the curve of her spine, the flare of her hips. One hand moved up to cup the weight of her breast, her nipple firming between the webs of his fingers. 

They were drunk on it, intoxicated by the exchange of breath and saliva. Their bodies rocked in rhythm. Even through the layers of his heavy hakama, she could feel the ridge of his cock hard as an iron bar, grinding against her slick pubic lips. The drag of the fabric was a smooth, textured tease across flesh that was already over-sensitized and pulsing. Every time she moved she left more of herself behind. The clear film of her arousal was no longer contained. It smeared across his crotch, dampening the silk and turning the pristine white material dark where they connected. She whimpered into his mouth, nails digging into his scalp, begging for more pressure, more weight.

Suddenly, Sesshomaru broke the kiss, drawing in deep breaths. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent like a drug. His nose brushed her skin, and then Rin felt it. 

The sharp, cold prick of his fangs. 

Sesshomaru dragged the points of his teeth down the sensitive column of her throat, right over the jugular. The edge of a knife. A reminder of what he was. 

Rin froze, her pulse jumping wildly under his lips. But the alarm didn’t douse the fire—it threw dry leaves on it. The suggestion was the aphrodisiac. The knowledge that her life was literally in his mouth made her clench with a fresh wave of wetness. 

Sesshomaru sensed the fear and felt her arousal spike, the two scents mingling. The combination was a narcotic, a heady perfume that made his vision swim. He pressed his fangs hard enough to dimple the tender flesh, just enough to threaten, grazing the artery with a lover’s touch. 

“Ah,” Rin sighed. “Do it again. I like that.”

He paused, his breath hot against the pulse he was threatening. He pulled back to look into her eyes, his own narrowing.

“It’s almost as if you are trying to tempt me to be cruel.” 

“Lord Sesshomaru,” she whined. 

A dry scrape of breath. Closer to a physical reaction than a chuckle. “So desperate for the very thing that should make you run. I wonder, Rin, did you learn to be this dark all on your own?”

Rin didn't answer. She was too busy tilting her head, practically shoving her neck against his lips in an uncoordinated plea for more. “Stop talking about it and just do it again.”

“Insolent,” he said, sounding more like a caress than a rebuke. He let his fangs catch the other side of her neck, harder this time, sinking in deep enough to leave a bruise of purple and blue that would linger for days.

By the time Sesshomaru stopped, Rin’s upper body was a map of bites. Her face, the delicate column of her neck, and the soft, pale mounds of her breasts were mottled with the evidence of his mouth. Like a constellation of lavender bruises and crimson welts, they stood out starkly against her flushed skin. 

She was insatiable. The pleasure he had given her with his tongue, while shattering, was not enough. Merely serving to dredge up a deeper, more terrifying hunger. There was a cavern inside her belly, a vast, echoing abyss that screamed to be filled. She felt hollowed out, a vessel of skin and bone that had no purpose other than to contain him, and currently, she was failing at that singular purpose. 

“Please,” she begged. “Lord Sesshomaru… please…” 

His calm stare contrasted sharply with her needful state. "Please?" he repeated. It rolled off his tongue with mocking elegance. 

Rin shook her head, her hair falling around her face. “Do something,” she implored, her voice cracking. “I can’t stand it anymore.”

“You are incoherent, Rin. Articulate your need.”

The campfire crackled. 

The question was cruel. A deliberate provocation to make her voice the depth of her own longing. 

"It's not funny!” Rin said. She leaned her forehead against his shoulder, her body sagging on his lap as if the weight of that emptiness were a physical burden. "Make it go away. I feel like I’m hollow. Like I’m dying. I need you to… to..."

“Take a breath,” he commanded softly, his hand coming up to grip the back of her neck, his claws catching in her hair. “You need me to do what?”

She looked up at him, her eyes wide, glassy, and utterly defeated. “Anything.” 

The confession hung. 

Sesshomaru studied her, his gaze momentarily following a single drop of blood as it trailed down her shoulder. A ruby bead from where he had bitten her a little too hard. He watched it track over her skin with a detached fascination.

"A pleasing answer.” With a subtle but commanding gesture of his chin toward the ground, his voice took on a sharper, more authoritative edge. "There—on your hands and knees."

A tremor of excitement ran through her. Without hesitation, she obeyed, turning and arranging herself on expanding fur. The position felt animal, vulnerable. She waited, trembling as the cool night air hit her exposed sex, the shifting behind her loud with the sound of him finally moving to claim what she had so desperately offered.

She dared to glance over her shoulder and saw him stalking down on her on all fours, the firelight reflecting a luminescent gleam in his eyes. He knelt behind her. But he did not touch her. Not yet. He simply looked.

"From this angle," he began, his voice a deep, dark caress that made the fine hairs on her neck stand up, "you are completely defenseless. Presented. Like an offering." 

He took a slow, deep breath, and she could feel the air moving against her skin as he inhaled her scent.

"Rin has never been more appealing.”

Her skin prickled, goosebumps rising along her arms and thighs. “Lord Sesshomaru, I…” 

She tried to find words for the overwhelming anticipation, but the sentence died in a strangled gasp as he shoved his face hard between the cheeks of her ass. 

His tongue was a thick, plundering muscle that drove deep into her with startling force. She gasped again, her fingers digging into the fur beneath her. She felt it extend in an inhuman way, slithering up against the ridged textures inside her quivering walls, exploring her internal geography with a thoroughness that bordered on violation. 

A low growl rumbled from his chest, vibrating through her spine. Then his tongue retracted slowly, dragging along the sensitive anterior wall of her vagina.

“Did you think I would be gentle this time?” he rasped, his words muffled against her wet, swollen flesh, hot breath gusting. 

Before she could answer, she felt him licking at the sensitive rosette of her anus, teasing the tight, little hole before breaching it with a shocking thrust. Rin uttered noises she didn’t know she was capable of making that reverberated off the trees. Simultaneously, he began to lap at her clitoris from underneath, his nose pressing firmly, relentlessly into her puckered ring, stimulating her from two angles at once.

Her hips bucked and slammed against his face. No longer a woman, but a creature of pure nerve endings convulsing on the forest floor, completely at the mercy of the demon devouring her. And right as her body began to seize, teetering on the edge of another orgasm, he stopped. 

The loss of his mouth left a cold void where a moment before there had been fire. 

Behind her, cutting through the ragged sound of her own gasping breaths, came a soft rustling—the hurried sound of purpose. A moment later, she felt it. A blunt, hot pressure nudging insistently at her entrance, slick with the copious aftermath of his oral assault. 

Her entire body went rigid. 

Sesshomaru’s voice sounded rougher than usual, stripped of its usual polish. His claws dragged slowly down the curve of her spine, tracing the vertebrae with a possessiveness that made her shudder. 

"Do not fight it,” he said. “Your body is already prepared for me."

His hands returned to her hips, but this time they didn't merely pin her. They gripped her, lifting her slightly, tilting her pelvis to grant him better access. The head of his cock pressed again, insistent, broad, and thick.

“This is what you begged for.” 

Rin twisted her upper body, turning to glance over her shoulder, needing to see what pressed against her. She flinched. Sesshomaru’s hand was wrapped around the base of his cock, pumping it with slow, tight strokes. He meant to put that weapon in her?

“It’s too much,” she said, her eyes widening in genuine alarm. 

“It is precisely what Rin needs,” he corrected her, leaving no room for argument. He released his hold on himself and reached out, his hand tangling in her hair, briefly petting the back of her head—a gesture that was simultaneously soothing and controlling. “You’ve come crying to me… telling this Sesshomaru for years how much of a woman Rin has become. Is that not so?”

Rin swallowed hard, looking from his cock to the gold of his eyes. The challenge was clear. Retreat into girlhood, or accept the ache of becoming what she claimed to be. 

“Yes,” she managed, voice trembling but certain. “Yes, I am a woman.” 

“Then prove it.” 

He applied a steady, inevitable pressure. Rin felt her muscles protest; shuddering walls of resistance meeting an unstoppable force. Slowly, she gave way to a hot stretching that was half pain, half unholy pleasure. He slid into her by agonizing inches, expanding her, filling the hollow ache she had complained of.

“Relax your muscles,” he urged her, his voice becoming increasingly more strained as her tight heat enveloped him. “Open for me. Take me in.” 

He paused when halfway inside her, holding himself still to let her adjust, letting her feel his throbbing cock splitting her in two. She was stretched so wide she felt transparent, as if he were rearranging her internal anatomy.

Then, with a soft growl that made her heartbeat skyrocket, he thrust forward in one final, deep stroke, burying himself to the white hair surrounding the base.

A sharp hiss came from her, her head thrown back to look at him as she was stretched to her absolute limit. He was a brand of hot iron in her core, obliterating all other thoughts, anchoring her to the earth with his weight and his heat.

For a moment, he held still, letting them both feel the totality of the union; the demon fully sheathed within the human. Then, he began to move.

Slow strokes. Deep, deliberate pumping that seemed to pull at the very root of her soul. He withdrew almost completely, leaving her empty for a split second, before thrusting back in, reclaiming the territory with ruthless efficiency. With every thrust, his words were a dark mantra in her head, syncing with the cadence of his hips.

"How perfectly Rin was made to accommodate me,” Sesshomaru praised. “You hold all of it. I can’t look away.”  

Sesshomaru truly couldn’t. For a demon who prided himself on his icy detachment, who spent years looking at the world with bored indifference, he was utterly captivated by the sight. 

Logic dictated he should look at something more neutral to maintain his composure—the twisted roots of the trees, the distant moon, or the nearby boulder. But his gaze was riveted to the point of entry. 

He watched the way her flesh stretched to accept his girth, a ring of pink fire swallowing him whole and clinging possessively to him as he withdrew.

Sesshomaru finally found the will to look away. Forcing his focus on her pleasure, he reached beneath her, his fingers seeking the swollen tip of her clit to drive her out of her mind. But as he splayed his clawed hand over her soft lower belly to steady her, the intent vanished. 

He was buried so deep that he felt the blunt, internal impact of his own cock grinding against his palm through the yielding depth of her vagina. 

To feel himself from both sides at once, with only her stretched walls caught in the middle, was a depravity so visceral it drove him to push her face into the drift of his fur, his pale arms like pillars at either side of her head, caging her in as he ravaged her.

Until now, Rin had been passively receiving him. But as the tension coiled, her hips began to snap upward. She made long, drawn-out groans as though something that had been trapped was finally breaking.

Sesshomaru leaned down, his mouth hot against her ear. "There it is," he rasped. "You're chasing me now. You need it so badly."

"Yes," she sobbed, the word breaking as he slammed into her, catching the breath in her throat.

"Listen to… yourself.” His voice was fraying. His thrusts grew faster, losing their precision to something more raw, animal. "Rin doesn’t sound like a woman anymore. She sounds like a bitch being bred."

The crudity of it, coming from lips that usually spoke in riddles and commands, was exquisite fuel. It liberated her, burning away the village girl and the polite ward. It incinerated them both, leaving only the woman he had carved out of her in the dark on his furs.

Rin’s mouth fell open, gasps hitching through the cracks of her held breath. Her eyes glazed, her vision tunneling as his pace turned hard and merciless.

Sesshomaru felt her inner muscles begin to flutter. The sensation of her body preparing to convulse around him, to squeeze him with that greedy tightness, shattered the last of his control. The beast inside him snapped its leash.

“Endure it.” He locked onto her hips, his claws sinking into her flesh as he hauled her upward. Her knees left the ground, leaving her impaled and suspended as he fucked her hard and deep.

Her orgasm hit first—a violent tightening that made her shout in surprise. 

Feeling her seize, he finally brought her down as her spine arched like a bow, his momentum driving her forward until her elbows and knees touched the furs. Her spasming walls milked him so hard and greedily it felt as if she would wring his seed straight from his core.

Sesshomaru buried himself so deeply that he felt he was battering the entrance of her cervix. He couldn’t stop it. And there were no growls, only sharp intakes of air he couldn’t catch, then a groan of pure, helpless undoing as he emptied himself into her. 

“Heavy,” Rin said. “You’re so heavy—I can’t breathe.” 

She felt wrecked, completely hollowed out and then filled back up with something thick and hot.

His body shuddered, the release overwhelming him as he kept himself sheathed deep within her. Legs lost their strength and turned into jello, the adrenaline crash hitting all at once. He put progressively more weight on her back, forcing them both down until her belly pressed into his fur and he lay flat atop her, pinning her to the ground.

He rocked his pelvis into her yielding bottom, instinctively trying to push every last drop deeper inside as her walls continued to strangle him. But there was simply too much. The excess began to leak past the seal of his cock, escaping the tight, stretched ring of her cunt. 

The noise was obscene as they breathed heavily together: the thick squelch of fluids forced out under pressure; the sticky churn of cream as he ground the mixture inside her with languid strokes.

When he finally rolled off her, he settled beside her, his chest heaving as he gradually reclaimed his breath. His body was spent, but his mind was still reeling from the intensity of their coupling. 

Without the seal of his girth to hold it back, Rin felt a trail of his seed descending slowly, tracing a warm path down the curve of her inner thigh before inevitably dripping into the fur. 

Sesshomaru turned his head to look at Rin, expecting to see exhaustion or even pain on her face. But instead, he saw satisfaction. Pure, unadulterated satisfaction. Her eyes were half-lidded and unfocused, a lazy smile playing at the corners of her lips. He reached out to brush a strand of hair from her face, unable to resist touching her even now. 

Rin leaned into his touch, nuzzling against his hand like a satisfied cat.

The following night, the moon hung heavy and pale over the forest canopy. 

Jaken scampered through the brush, his small feet crunching loudly on the dry leaves. He was muttering a steady stream of complaints under his breath, a litany of grievances against the unfairness of the universe. The errand had been a farce. A wild goose chase for the silver moon flower, a rare herb that, as any loyal retainer worth his keep knew, didn't even bloom until the first frost.

"Pointless," he grumbled, batting a low-hanging branch out of his face with his staff. "Utterly pointless. Send the loyal retainer into the dark for a weed that doesn't exist. Milord just wanted me gone, that's what it was.”

He was exhausted, his little legs aching. All he wanted was to report his failure, accept the inevitable glare of disappointment from his lord, and collapse near the fire until dawn.

As the familiar clearing of their camp came into view, the crackle of the fire reached his ears. But beneath the popping wood, there were other sounds. Voices.

Rin’s first, soft and muffled, unintelligible. And then Sesshomaru’s low baritone. His carried a strange, instructional cadence. It sounded almost... educational.

Jaken pushed past a dense bush, fully expecting to see them discussing travel plans or perhaps Sesshomaru scolding the girl for some trivial infraction.

The sight that greeted him made him freeze mid-step. His two-headed staff nearly slipped from his fingers. 

Sesshomaru was leaning against a tree. His pristine white robes were pushed aside, his pants loosened and gaping open. From the pale column of his torso down to his parted thighs, he was magnificently exposed. His erection, thick and pale as marble in the moonlight, jutted proudly from a nest of silver hair. 

And kneeling between his lord's spread legs, her dark hair spilling over his thighs like ink on parchment, was Rin.

Her head was bobbing. 

Jaken’s eyes bulged. His mouth opened and closed like a dying fish on a riverbank, but nothing came out. His brain simply could not believe what he was seeing. 

“No, not with your teeth,” Sesshomaru’s voice cut through Jaken's paralysis. It was calm, the voice of a master instructing an apprentice. Rin has asked something, and he answered. “Yes, I’m very grateful Rin lacks fangs. Now focus. Cover your teeth with your lips.”

Rin pulled back. She lingered for a moment, her fingers curled around his shaft as she tested the solid heft of him. A playful bob of it in her hand was the only indulgence she took before she remembered his command.

The scrape of her teeth was gone, but the motion was stilted. She was treating it like a mechanical task. Up and down, up and down. 

“Now the tongue. Trace the ridge, just as I instructed.” 

She made a soft sound of compliance—a muffled mmph—and wriggled her tongue under the engorged head. The slurping became louder, the suction more vicious. Saliva was her greatest ally, and she let it flow freely, coating him. 

Jaken watched in horrified fascination as Sesshomaru’s stomach tensed. An involuntary betrayal of his composure, he thought. Nothing more.  

Rin came off him with an audible pop. A line of drool trickled from the corner of her mouth. “Like that, my lord?” she asked, all breathless and eager, her eyes searching his face for approval.

Sesshomaru managed to nod before her mouth descended on him again. His head tipped back against the bark, his eyes fluttering shut for a fraction of a second. “Exactly like that.” Then he rested his hand on the back of her head, not forcing but guiding. “Feel that? When it throbs,” he continued, his voice tightening, “that is when you will take me deeper. Now, look at me… Good girl.”

Praise? 

It seemed Rin’s confidence grew with every sigh she stole from him. Because she started to experiment, drawing in her cheeks as she pulled upward to create a vacuum. Her lips maintained a tight seal, breaking and reforming with a hungry slurp over the tip that made him twitch, signaling that she was no longer merely holding him inside her mouth. She was consuming him. 

Jaken, after so many years of devotion, operated on a single track. His lord had a need. He had information. In his simple worldview, the two must connect regardless of context. 

He swallowed hard, took a shaky step forward, and cleared his throat.  

“M-Milord,” he squeaked. 

Rin froze instantly. 

Mortification washed over her. Her shoulders hunched as she recoiled, and she made to pull away, releasing Sesshomaru as though she had been caught with her hand in a jar of forbidden sweets. Freed from her mouth, his cock snapped back against his stomach with a resonant slap. This wasn’t something she wanted Jaken—or anyone—to see. This was theirs.

But Sesshomaru didn’t let her move away. His grip in her hair tightened just enough to hold her in place as he bent forward and kissed her mouth hard. “Don’t stop,” he whispered harshly. “Don’t you dare stop.”

Rin hesitated. She stared at Jaken for a long moment, who appeared to be struggling to breathe. Then she turned away. The sucking continued. 

Jaken had the audacity to stand there. 

Sesshomaru ran his claws affectionately through Rin’s hair before slowly lifting his gaze. His eyes, slitted with pleasure, fixed on his trembling retainer. And he didn’t appear angry. Not even annoyed. He appeared supremely at ease, unbothered that he had an audience. 

“The… the task, milord,” Jaken stammered, holding up his useless, empty sleeves. “There was nothing to find. A complete failure!” 

Sensing the tension in his body, Rin pushed past her comfort zone. She took him in deeper, the head of his cock bumping against the soft palate of her throat.

And during this, Sesshomaru held Jaken's bug-eyed gaze for one, two, three silent, excruciating seconds. His muscles coiled tight, his abs flexing in rigid definition as he fought the urge to snap his hips forward and ruin the toe-curling rhythm Rin had just discovered. Without a word, without a flicker of expression, his eyes slid toward the canopy, his fingers tangling in Rin’s hair. 

Jaken stood paralyzed for a heartbeat longer before he scrambled away, fleeing into the dark.

He was nearly clear of the camp when he heard Sesshomaru's voice.

"Deeper.”

It hit Jaken just as he thought he was far enough away. He didn’t stop to look back. He kept running. 

The moment the rustling of Jaken’s retreat had faded into the forest, the world narrowed. The expansive night, the chirping insects, the crackling fire—it all vanished. The only reality was Rin between Sesshomaru’s legs. 

Rin hadn’t taken his command to go deeper as a suggestion. She pushed down, forcing her mouth over the thick, pulsing head, sliding down the shaft until something unexpected happened. Her throat seized, triggering her gag reflex. She pulled back, coughing up a fit. But then she tried again. 

She realized that if she timed it right—if she flattened her tongue and held her breath—she could resist the urge to gag. So she did just that. She took in a great, big breath and let him stretch the back of her throat.

A brand new sound came from Sesshomaru. A kind of low, prolonged groan, guttural, as though it were being squeezed out from the very bottom of his lungs against his will.

She felt the muscles at the base of his cock jump against her tongue. And the longer she kept him suspended in warmth without moving, without breathing, the more the spasms threatened to gag her, the more his powerful thighs tensed under her hands. One of his own moved from her hair to her shoulder. Claws sank into the fabric of her kimono and the flesh beneath, not deep enough to draw blood, but sharp enough to ground him.

The realization hit her like a physical blow: He is holding on to me.

Yesterday, it had been his mouth on her, his tongue driving her to squirm and cry out on the forest floor. But tonight? Tonight, she was the one in control. She was driving him wild. The thought was intoxicating. There was already a slick smear between her legs, but this made her sopping wet. Every time that broken groan escaped his lips, she couldn't help but squeeze her thighs together as her walls clenched hungrily all on its own. 

“Enough,” he said, his voice tight, broken. 

He grabbed both her shoulders firmly and pushed her back, forcing her to withdraw, forcing her to finally breathe.

She saw him then, truly saw him. 

The great Lord Sesshomaru, undone, so utterly at her mercy. She didn’t get to see this expression when he had taken her from behind. The vulnerability was staggering. He almost looked like he was in pain. And he was so beautiful for revealing this honest part of himself to her that for a long moment, all she could do was smile sweetly up at him from between his legs.

Then, her reverence turned carnal.  

She took his weeping cock back into her mouth without warning. He was so impossibly hard she could feel the distinct texture of his veins throbbing on her tongue. It was the vacuum-tight suction, not her head pushing down, that dragged her mouth nearly to the base. 

If Rin didn’t know any better, she might have thought she heard him swear. 

Regardless of shock, she didn’t even have to go faster. She simply fell back into that sloppy, milking rhythm she had stumbled upon while Jaken watched them awkwardly. She listened with satisfaction as his breathing hitched, paused in his chest, and then shuttered into panting. 

“Rin, you’re going to make me…” 

His hips bucked once, twice—a sudden spasm that drove him dangerously deep. She felt the first hot spurt hit the back of her throat before she even realized he was cumming. Its force surprised her so badly she didn’t have a choice but to swallow the initial wave to keep from drowning, her eyes instantly brimming with tears as her throat convulsed. Miraculously, she managed to keep her grip firm around his shaft as she coughed, as thick, pearlescent ropes continued to erupt from him. He couldn’t stop just because she had. It spilled over her knuckles, painted her kimono in white splashes, and when she let him go and his cock lay flat across his stomach, the last of his release pooled in the hollow of his navel.

Finally, she pulled away. She remained kneeling, looking up at him. She watched the way his eyes were glazed over, unfocused, staring at nothing. She saw the slight parting of his lips, the faint tremor that still danced across his jaw. She had done that.

“I’m sorry,” Rin said suddenly. 

The world returned to Sesshomaru in pieces. 

First, the rasp of his own breathing. Then, the rough bark of the tree against his back. Finally, the sight of Rin, kneeling between his legs still, her face illuminated by the fire. 

“For?”

Sesshomaru watched as she made a small, thoughtful motion with her tongue, licking her wet lips. She was tasting him. Finally, she answered. “For stopping before you were finished.” 

He cleared his throat, pushing himself upright slightly as his composure slowly began to cement itself back into place. “Unnecessary,” he said. “I had already finished before Rin stopped.” 

Her eyes were shining with pride and adoration when she stretched out and laid her head on his thigh, where he proceeded to pet her head tenderly. "Do you want me to return the favor?" he asked quietly. The offer promised exquisite pleasure, a reward for her service.

Rin seemed to consider it for a moment, humming against his leg. She shook her head. "No, my lord," she declined softly. "But I do want you again. Inside me."

Sesshomaru's eyebrows lifted a fraction. She had drained him completely, and yet, her request sent a jolt to his groin. 

“But… face to face, this time.”

So, Rin wanted to see him. She wanted to look into his eyes while he took her—while they took each other. She wanted to be more than just a yielding body beneath him.

Sesshomaru let out a short, dry scoff. Humans were so sentimental.

That scoff was an eye-roll in his own dialect. The sound of a being who didn’t speak her emotional language, but was listening anyway. 

Sesshomaru proceeded to remove the rest of his clothing. Then, he patted his own thigh. 

“Come here.” 

His lap was an altar, his thighs parted in blatant invitation. He remained leaning against the tree, a portrait of indolent power, watching her with those unnervingly perceptive golden eyes that seemed to strip her bare long before his hands would.

Rin crawled onto him, straddling his waist when, suddenly, a wave of aggression hit her. She took his broad shoulders into her hands and squeezed, digging her fingers into his biceps with all her human strength. She wanted so badly to crush him, to consume him, frustrated by how much she adored him. 

During this, Sesshomaru didn't even tense. He simply observed, a faint flicker of confusion crossing his features. He felt the sting of her nails, the frantic, desperate squeeze of her hands, and naturally found no threat in it. To him it was like being attacked by a bird. 

But then a memory resurfaced—yesterday, the way he had methodically marked her skin until it was a map of bites. He realized this must be her echo of that, especially as she sank her teeth into the sculpted curve of his pectoral. 

His hands began to move. They slid from her waist, gliding down over her hips and disappearing beneath the hem of her kimono. His touch wasn’t gentle, not in the human sense, but methodical as he cupped the soft flesh of her ass in his large hands, weighing her. His thumbs pressed into the dimples above her cheeks before slowly parting them, peeling her open like a ripe fruit. The spreading released a fresh wave of her honeyed scent. 

In the back of his mind, the visual of his hands manipulating her was mouth-watering. Pity, he thought, that there is no mirror here. This deserves to be witnessed.

A thrill burned its way up Rin’s neck as he lifted one cheek, then the other, his claws tracing the delicate crease where flesh met thigh. 

“So soft,” he murmured. 

His fingers delved deeper, finding the sopping wet mess between her folds that had run down her inner thighs. 

The thought of her becoming more aroused from having his cock in her mouth was intensely stimulating. But he made no move to pleasure her there, simply noting her readiness, acknowledging it with a single kiss on her delicate neck. 

He stripped her out of her kimono so that there wasn't a stitch of clothing between them.

Rin moaned as he took one breast into his mouth, suckling until the nipple hardened against his tongue. But he too felt like biting, and the intrusive thoughts won. She pulled on his hair as she scolded him. Sesshomaru ignored it. Or pretended to. The corner of his mouth almost curved against her skin as he moved to the other breast to bite again.

By now, his cock stirred, twitching as it rose until standing fully erect. 

“Higher,” he told her. His hands moved to her hips, guiding her upward. “Lift yourself.” 

Obediently, Rin pushed up with her hands on his shoulders, rising until she was hovering just above him. The broad tip nudged her entrance, thumping against her in anticipation as he flexed his core muscles, seeking entry.

“Now,” Sesshomaru said, his voice dropping an octave. Raw, hypnotic. “Impale yourself on me. Move as you please.” 

He released her, dropping his hands to his sides and granting her total control.

This was a test, and her heart hammered against her ribs. 

To have him inside her again, this time with her in charge, with his molten eyes watching her every move…

Rin took a deep breath and lowered herself. 

The descent was slow. The blunt, thick head of his cock pushed against her, stretching her. She hissed through her teeth as she took the first inch, her inner muscles clenching instinctively around him. Finally, she sank all the way until his nest of silver met her dark hair.

Fully impaled, fully claimed.

“That’s it, Rin,” he urged, his patience thinning as he felt her clenching idly around him. He bucked his hips upward, just an inch, imploring. “Move.”

Awkwardly, she did. 

Her first movements were tentative, uncertain. She tried to rock her hips, mimicking what she imagined a lover would do, but the motion felt clumsy, the angle all wrong. A flush of embarrassment warmed her cheeks. Surely she was failing the test. She glanced at his face, expecting to see disappointment, or worse, boredom. 

But his eyes were dark and fixed entirely on her. It didn’t matter that she lacked the polished skill of an experienced woman. Sesshomaru was simply delighted to be ridden by her.

She took another deep breath, closed her eyes, and decided to stop thinking. She let her body guide her. She forgot about pleasing him and focused only on the incredible sensation of him stretching her. She started to slowly grind her hips into him, dragging her tight, wet sheath along his length.

That was it.

His hands came up to hold her waist. Not to control, but to steady her, to encourage her. 

Every rock sent waves of pleasure through her. She found a tempo, a deep, deep languid cadence that was all her own. 

The pleasure dug so deeply that it began to steal the strength from her limbs. Her legs trembled, her pace slowing to an almost complete stop. Her body suddenly too heavy, too boneless to continue.

And then, everything changed.

The facade of gentle encouragement was gone. Sesshomaru had played with his food long enough. 

"My turn," he said.

With terrifying ease, he lifted her entire weight while he remained seated, sliding her up the length of his shaft until only the tip remained inside. For a heart-stopping second he kept her just like that.

Then, he forced her back down.

There was no slowness, no seduction. He drove her down onto his full length with a punishing thrust that stole her breath and rattled her teeth.

Having him do all the work, manipulating her body like a ragdoll, made the pleasure spike to unbearable levels. He held her captive with just the strength of his hands on her hips, dictating the angle and the velocity, forcing her to take him deeper, harder, and faster than she could have ever managed on her own.

Sesshomaru wasn’t just fucking her. He was using her body to fuck himself, and the sheer omnipotence of it—the casual display of demon strength used for sex this way—was chipping away at her sanity. He was hitting spots that made her vision blur.

“Oh, god, Sesshomaru—harder!” 

She was in so much ecstasy that she had completely dropped the honorific from his name.

And Sesshomaru, incited by that desperate disrespect, obliged her.

As she let out a particularly high-pitched moan, Sesshomaru released his grip on her hips, letting her weight drop flush against his lap. In the same motion, he yanked her head forward by the back of her neck, his mouth slanting down hard over hers. He took advantage of her open-mouthed cry to plunder the soft interior, sucking on her tongue and swallowing her moans, stealing them from anyone who might be watching from the bushes. He swept through with the same tempo as his hips, which now drove up into her with the new leverage of her weight as he continued to devour her. 

Fucked and consumed simultaneously, claimed from the inside out. And the combined assault was a sensory overload that threatened to overwhelm her. 

Suddenly, gravity inverted, and she was weightless, a leaf caught in a storm before her back hit the ground with a thud. 

Sesshomaru didn’t even have the mind to expand his fur to cushion her. The movement was so seamless that he never left her. He was still buried to the root inside her, but now he loomed over her, blotting out the dark canopy and the stars beyond, his hair cascading down to create a curtain around them.

He started up slowly, withdrawing until he was almost out, then sinking back in with torturous intent.

“Watch me, Rin,” he rasped. He tossed his head, clearing the veil of silver hair so she could see down the length of their bodies. “Watch me… disappear…”

Together, they bore witness to the mechanics of their union. They watched as he vanished into her, as the widest part of him stretched her, and then pulled almost out, the flared tip catching inside the fluttering rim. He paused there, observing the way she began to squirm beneath him. When she finally broke, surging her hips forward in a desperate attempt to suck him back inside, he simply pulled further away. He stayed right at the precipice before starting the process all over again—sinking in with that same tormenting stroke. 

She reached for him, trying to find his face amidst the drowning silk of his hair. “Please,” she cried, her palms cupping his jaw, her thumbs tracing his stripes. “I want it. I want it so bad. Don’t tease me.” 

Sesshomaru’s eyes flashed. He had been attempting to draw it out. But if she insisted…

He folded her completely in half, pinning her knees to her shoulders to grant him the deepest possible access. The angle was perfect, and he hammered into her, no longer holding back. 

Rin pulled his hair so hard that strands came loose. She was lost. Fracturing into a million nerve endings as he pounded her into oblivion. Her orgasm, which had been building, finally rippled through her walls, making her body arch and spasm uncontrollably against his onslaught. She sobbed his name brokenly. Because he didn’t stop.

Eventually, Rin didn’t make any sound at all. 

The pleasure became so intense that it pushed her into a state of dissociation. Her breath locked inside her lungs, her gaze drifted away, unfocused. It was though she was having an out-of-body experience. Tears welled in her eyes, spilling over her temples into the ground as her head lolled from what he was doing to her.

Even when Sesshomaru said her name, grating it out between his teeth without relenting, she didn’t respond. That’s when he felt it. A gush of warm fluids washed down his thighs. Gods, she was cumming again. And seeing that sweet face go blank with ecstasy while her interior convulsed annihilated him. He drove in deep and held it there, his seed flooding her womb in hot, pulsing jets. 

Sesshomaru buried his face in her neck, mindful to support his weight on his forearms to avoid crushing her as she gasped for air. He was still inside her, throbbing but softening. Eventually, he withdrew and pulled her close on the grass, summoning his fur around them both.

Neither one of them said anything for a long while, the quiet heavy and satisfied. Then, Rin shifted from under his fur and sat up.

“I’m hungry.”

Sesshomaru sat up too, blinking in genuine disbelief. He looked at her, then down at the mess of their bodies. “Rin,” he said carefully, “the soul is willing, but the flesh…”

“No, my lord—food.”

He stared at her for a beat, then scoffed. 

“Of course,” he said, reaching out to pull her close one more time.