A/N: Drabble for Blumchen. Kouga x Kagome, no prompt.
Standard drabble disclaimer:
1.) It is supposed to be this short.
2.) It is complete, and there will be no updates.
3.) As this is not a serious effort, critique is not solicited.
Thank you!
xoxoxox
Enough
xoxoxox
If she tried to ask herself why, all the reason that came up was that she was tired of hope.
She was weary to the bone of waiting for Inuyasha to become the him that she dreamed of. He loved her, that was easy enough to understand through his vague signs and awkward gestures. Still, it was never enough.
It was so easy to accept the devotion that was already there. There was no need to hope for anything with Kouga-- everything was already there, and showed no signs of dissolving. He would love her whether she wanted to or not, and say so to the entire world if need be.
Two-dimensional though his love might be, it still made her feel precious and valuable.
She really couldn't be blamed.
"Kagome," he said, and from his lips it truly sounded like a mantra.
For some reason, she couldn't bring herself to feel guilty for this.
His hair was longer than it looked when freed from its constraints, and fell around the sides of her face to caress her ears and the place where her jaw and throat met. She felt shielded from the world behind those soft black curtains, safe from judgement or consequence.
"Hold me," she ordered.
He listened, as she'd known he would.
His hands on the small of her back made her feel safe. His lips on her throat made her feel wanted. His manhood, pressed insistently between her bare and glowing thighs made her feel desirable.
No, she could not feel guilty for this.
The blazing blue glance he seared her with meant 'May I?', plain as day. She nodded, putting her arms around his neck and smiling faintly. Seven years was too long to wait, even for Inuyasha, no matter how much she loved him.
There was a tongue, strong and confident, on her nipples, and fingers working their way through the cleft of her backside to play with the sensitive ring of flesh they found there, and there were lips and fangs on her pulse point.
Regret was impossible.
She pressed her heels into the back of his thighs and her fingernails into his tense shoulders, feeling the cool stone against her back like a grounding presence.
The smell of fur and blood and feral desire crawled into her nostrils and ferociously erased what rationality she had left.
With a sound that was halfway between moan and growl, she sank her teeth into his gleaming shoulder and her nails into his shoulderblades, reveling in the way he jerked against her and snarled in her ear.
Oh, but it was so good to feel wanted. She knew well what it felt like to want, as she had wanted for years. To want and be wanted in return was bliss of the actively mind-destroying sort.
She didn't ever want it to end.
Even so, it ended all too quickly, with one last convulsion and a ragged howl against the damp wall of her throat.
"Can I come back?" she asked him quietly when he had remembered how to speak. She already knew the answer, but hearing it was too important to skip.
He pressed himself against and into her, and laid his lips against the curve of her ear. "Stay."
She couldn't...
...but it was enough that he wanted her to.
"Thanks," she said, and walked away.
Regret was not an option.
XxxxxxxxxxxX
A/N: Thanks for reading!