Moon Dark, Star Bright: Demonlover

Published Aug 4, 2007, 8:11:27 AM UTC | Last updated Oct 8, 2008, 8:38:29 AM | Total Chapters 11

Story Summary

He is like the moon--cold, etheral, mercurial; untouchable except for the small, bright girl-child that wished upon a star to remain with him forever. This is a collection of Sess/Rin citrusy oneshots that portrays the darker side of their love.

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Chapter 2: Demonlover

 

Disclaimer: The characters of InuYasha are not mine, they are property of Rumiko Takahashi, Shogakukan, Yomiuri TV, Sunrise, and Viz. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

 

 

 

Warnings: NC17, Sexual content, Minor, NC

 

 

 

=#= Demonlover =#=

 

 

 

He smiled. Her naiveté was so cute.

 

“Come here,” he said. It was not quite a command. Not quite a request. She came.

 

Innocently, trustingly into within his reach. He pulled her between his thighs, her of a height with him sitting.

 

Large, bright, dark eyes looked into his jaded golden ones. Sweet anticipation lit her face from within. She expected something good from him.

 

He smiled. It was not a nice smile, but she, innocent, missed its edge.

 

His hands came up to her slender, young shoulders, their weight deceptively light.

 

“Who do you belong to?” he asked.

 

“You!” she answered promptly and without fear.

 

His smile darkened, sharpened. “Yes,” he hissed.

 

He brushed dark strands of her hair aside, out of her face. The gesture was gentle.

 

“Do you love me Rin?” he asked.

 

“For ever and ever!” she piped happily.

 

He leaned forward, his face a scant inch from hers. “No matter what?” he queried.

 

She nodded. She gulped, his nearness making her giddy.

 

“Good,” he purred. He jerked her forward, his lips coming down hard on hers. He drew back, liking the bruised, plump look of her pink lips. He tipped her chin up with one clawed finger, exposing the length of her pale throat. Delicately, ever so controlled, he sank his teeth into the vulnerable, tender skin underneath her chin. Ever so minutely, he allowed himself a taste of her blood, of her flesh. He nuzzled along her collarbone, his other hand pushing one side of her kimono off of her shoulder. Pale, pubescent flesh was bared before him. He buried his fingers within the dark silken strands of her hair, pulling her head back, arching her breasts towards him. She whimpered. It was a beautiful sound.

 

He nipped, ever so lightly, the top of her small breast.

 

“Sesshoumaru-sama?” she asked shakily, her voice wavering with worry.

 

Against her flesh, he smiled. It was more a bearing of fang than a grin. His hot breath bathed her nipple. She shivered within his arms, a fine tremor through her small form. He touched tongue to the turgid tip, wetting it, no more. Then he blew, cool and moist, and she shivered again. He covered the puckered tip with his mouth, suckling her with long, deep pulls of his mouth.

 

Sweetly, like a kitten, she cried out for him.

 

He hardened; his erection hanging full and ripe between his legs. A shudder went through him.

 

He pressed her to her knees, her frightened and confused gaze glittering with the beginning of her tears. Tousled hair fell haphazardly around her face as the first blush of arousal heated her cheeks. She was beautiful.

 

“Open your mouth,” he instructed.

 

Trembling, she complied.

 

With hands that shook, he freed his arousal and pressed the head against her lips. His large hands cupped her small skull between them. He pushed himself into her mouth, down her throat and watched as the first tears rolled down her cheeks and fell like diamonds.

 

She whimpered around his engorged flesh, her eyes beseeching.

 

He smiled, but she took no comfort in it.

 

He pumped himself into her, his perfect breath coming out haggard and harsh.

 

So sweet. So sharp, her little teeth. Hot, so hot. Tight, clenched, so that he had to use force.

 

His eyes bled to red.

 

He withdrew from her mouth, pushed her down on her back, and slipped a clawed finger between the folds that hid her small opening. He tried to insert the tip of his finger. He chuckled darkly as he had to make his finger fit.

 

Hot. Tight. Perfect.

 

He palmed his erection, positioned the head against her flesh, and tightened his grip on her slim hips. With a grunt that turned into a groan of tortured pleasure, he thrust himself into her, seating himself to the hilt.

 

She cried out and struggled against the tearing, aching pain inside of her. He smiled and pinned her easily beneath him.

 

“Hush little one,” he murmured sardonically.

 

Then he began to move within her. Her sheath squeezed him like a fist; his senses darkened until all he could see was a haze of black and red, all he could hear were her small whimpers of protest.

 

Beautiful. Perfect. His.

 

He slammed into her one last time, then pulled free, spilling his seed like a hot, white burst over her belly. He looked down, at the hot, red blood between her legs, at the opaque glistening spatters of his cum. He smirked; completely satisfied.

 

Bending down, he licked her clean, loving the salty tang and slick, smooth taste of her skin, sweat, blood, tears, and sex.

 

“Mine,” he purred possessively as she whimpered and shivered in response.

 

He smiles. “I love you too, Rin, and I promise to never let you go.”

 

 

 

=#=

 

 

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