One-shot The Beauty and The Hollow
Ichigo moaned and arched his back into the frame of his bed. It was hot in his room, too hot. He ripped off his shirt, tearing it with his burst of sudden strength, then throwing it to the floor, and after a glance to the closet Rukia slept in, He unbuckled his constraining belt, his jeans hitting the floor with a muffled thump. The closet door was open, and Rukia was twitching and restless in some kind of dream, she didn't stir when he prowled to her bedside like a hungry creature of the night. His Hollow side was calling to him, in strange and different ways. Usually it called for violence and souls and all manner of evil, but tonight it spoke of only one.
"Rukia..."
She lay there, sweat glistening on her pale skin, her velvety lashes pressed against her fevered cheeks, her cherry-red lips moist and parted. Her lacy camisole stuck to her curves with the heat, drawing him in. Every part of her was intoxicating. Beneath that whisper-soft skin, her heartbeat thudded in her dream, her blood so close to the surface.
Ichigo leaned over her, lowering himself an inch above her skin and inhaling that scent that drew him to her. It smelled of Rukia, of the lingering heavy scent of summer blossoms, and of a crimson sin that lied waiting for him in a single move. He leaned towards her, slowly licking up her breast and higher along the most sensitive skin and veins on her neck.
Ichigo leaned his head back and moaned, suddenly feeling a tightness in his pants. Every part of this girl was just so sensual to him, no matter how innocent a role she played during the daytime, at night is when she came out to play...She was so close to being his, but not tonight. With a gentle hand, the Beast within him gone, he tucked a stray raven lock behind her ear, and without another sound, slid back into his bed, as if nothing happened.