Character(s): Sango & Sesshomaru
Rating: M – most definitely M
Genre: Angst/Crime/Drama/Hurt/Comfort/Retribution/Romance
Summary: After endangering Rin for the off-chance she could save her monk, Sango accepted her fate; to die at Sesshomaru's hand. Now that Naraku is dead, he has come to collect on the toll she owes him.
Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha. It belongs to Rumiko Takahashi.
Author's Notes/Warnings: Lemon meringue, lemonade, lemon drops…severe lemon-age below. This is my first (and probably last) lemonfic, so be gentle with me.
Paying the Piper
She made her deal with the devil; live long enough to see her love survive. It was a grace period she barely hoped for. After all, she had endangered that which he held most precious. Her death was the only penance that could be asked. Nothing less would suffice, nothing more could be offered. That did not mean she wasn't disappointed when the icy voice cut through the relief and celebration.
"Slayer."
Sango turned, her eyes shadowing as she met Sesshomaru's steel gaze. Rigidly, she untangled herself from the arms of her precious, precious friends, unable to look at them any longer. She willed herself not to hear them as they spoke to her. Reflexively, she reached for Hiraikotsu but stopped her hand even before the great demon's glare hardened. She wouldn't need it; she had no intention of defending herself.
She stepped away from the others, freezing for a moment when Kohaku grabbed her wrist, he alone knowing her intentions. She was cruel, robbing him of his family once again, and could only hope he would not have to watch her die once more. Not here, she begged, feeling the sting of tears behind her eyelids. Please, not here. Not in front of them.
The gods, it seemed, would grant her last request. Sesshomaru turned away and she fell in step behind him, never once thinking he was letting her go. She heard footsteps behind her and paused, clenching her fists. "Don't follow!" she demanded, not knowing if it was Miroku who pursued her or Inuyasha, pursuing Sesshomaru. Not knowing which one she hoped it was. Her barely restrained tears escaped through an alternate route, making her voice quake. I decided this.
She hurried after Sesshomaru, him not pausing to make sure she followed, both knowing she was bound by her honor and her word. She could not bring herself to look back as they disappeared in the trees, could not rid herself of the detached feeling that only lingered because she refused to say goodbye.
~x~x~x~
Sesshomaru led the female slayer through the trees, far away from the friends she had forbidden from chasing her, ever certain that she still trailed behind him. He could smell the hidden blades on her wrists, the sharp metal scent a harsh contrast to her own aroma of lilies and fresh rain, flavored in the slightest by the blood of demons, but it was not these that caused him to throw the occasional glance over his shoulder. He knew she would not use them. She was resigned to her chosen destiny. That was why he kept stealing glances despite himself. It was the grace she exuded though she was marching to her death, her head held upright, and her eyes just barely grazing the ground.
She had intrigued him for some time, this human woman who had proven herself against demons that were almost his equal. His interest had been piqued when she had offered herself to his vengeance after allowing her emotions to threaten Rin, asking only for the opportunity to ensure the cursed monk's survival. For some reason, he had granted her request, but he was not one to forget a grudge, nor forgive it easily. Now it was time to collect on her debt.
He stopped in a clearing, the scents of his brother and the other humans faint, their noises fainter. He turned, his eyes surveying the slayer, narrowing when her gaze fell, not on him, but through him. "Slayer," he warned, his voice as cold as the winter seas. "You would be wise not to distance yourself from this. Only fools waste mercy."
~x~x~x~
Sango blinked as Sesshomaru's words registered in her mind, bringing her crashing back to her last moments of reality. "Mercy?" she repeated, unable to believe her ears. She was sure the word did not exist in his vocabulary. "What do you mean, Lord Sesshomaru?" She kept the honorific, deciding against giving him a reason to make her death a slow one.
He came closer to her, circling her like a wolf does a petrified rabbit. His predatory pacing made her nervous, but she kept her face raised, meeting his eyes only when he passed in front of her. "Do you wish to die, slayer?" he questioned, steadily creeping closer.
She was confused by this. Was that not his intention for bringing her here and hers for following? "I wasn't aware I had a choice, Lord Sesshomaru. I brought danger to what is yours, even though you were an ally at the time. Since I know my strength is not enough to defeat you, I will accept my death gracefully. Frankly, I am surprised at the lenience you have shown me already."
She saw him frown, moving ever closer. She felt like she was being bound tight, an invisible rope closing in around her. "You did not answer my question."
"No."
It was a smirk this time around, the silk of his kimono brushing against her own. She felt a chill run through her, uncertainty clouding her mind. What game was he playing with her? Why did he not strike her down already so that her family might claim her body and lay her to rest?
"What would you do to keep your life, slayer?"
Her breath hitched, certain she had heard a trick of the wind. "What do you mean, Lord Sesshomaru?" she asked, her voice hesitant, not daring to hope. Was he willing to exact some lesser retribution from her? Would she get to see Kohaku and the others again? Would she be able to fold herself into the arms of her monk? She blinked to find his face inches from her own, his eyes cold and elegant.
"You interest me, slayer," he said coolly, his breath whispering in her ear, making her shiver. "You are unusually strong for any female, let alone a human. I wish for a taste of your power." He backed away a half a step, his hand drawing Bakusaiga from his waist.
Sango resisted the urge to shut her eyes as he drew his sword, forcing herself to remain strong. He would leave no body behind for the others to find. How could he sample her strength if she had brought no weapon. He had seen to that, even as she had refused to. Her eyes grew wide as he rested the blade on the grass, soon resting Tenseiga beside it. He disappeared behind her for a fraction of a second, and then her apron fell to the ground, forcing her to weaken her stance or expose her modesty. For the first time since following him deep into the trees, she felt a trickle of fear.
His eyes never left her, delight igniting the gold as he watched her fierce determination, even when she was curled into a flimsy ball, her hands pressed against the front of her kimono. He invaded her space again, resting his fingertips on her simple obi. "I will trade your breath, slayer, for your body."
~x~x~x~
She could not move. She could not breathe. She could not think.
The trees closed tighter around her; the imaginary tethers he'd wrapped around her secured her where she stood. Shock painted her face paler and she was intensely aware of the light touch at her abdomen.
No, her heart cried. You are a slayer; do not shame your people.
Your people are dead, another voice countered, small but strong. You and Kohaku are all that remain. Kohaku wants you to live.
No, her body moaned over a steadily growing ache. The scarcely-there touch was so warm. Your flesh belongs to Miroku.
He will forgive you. The voice was gaining strength, calling to her a little louder. He will understand. Miroku wants you to live.
No, her mind screamed, fighting to be heard. He is a demon. He will kill you either way.
He is a demon lord, the voice corrected, pounding in her ears and bringing a flush to her cheeks. He is as bound by honor as you. Look, Sango; Sesshomaru wants you to live.
"Your decision, slayer?" Sesshomaru's voice rang out, clear and crisp and close. So dangerously beautiful to her clouded, conflicting mind.
Draining the fear from her eyes, she took a cautious step back, severing the thin contact that connected them. She stood straight and proud, marveling at how her hands did not shake as she gripped the seams of her kimono. "I want to live," she declared, surprised at the firmness of her voice, the steadiness of her breaths as she removed her obi, letting her robe pool around her feet. "More than anything."
She stood before his appraising gaze, embarrassed, not because of her nakedness, but because of the wraps that still bound her breasts, yellowed with sweat and dirt and the intensity of battle; because of the layer of grime that still clung to her skin, never given the chance to be washed away after the death of her enemy. Embarrassed because she felt very shamed, submitting her pride to him when she had accepted her fate of death. Embarrassed because of her desperate longing to live.
~x~x~x~
Sesshomaru watched the slayer's face carefully, seeing the war that waged behind her eyes. She was strong, and so, had a fierce pride. He could smell her body rioting at the idea of his touch, but could also smell the longing that same touch inspired in her. He could tell that her pride was losing. Her weaker, pathetic emotions of love and devotion spoke with a strong voice. Her will to live rallied for her to give in, just once, so that she could be strong for years to come. He knew what she would choose; all beings ultimately choose life when given the option. He knew that she would give herself to him, and that is why he did not take her by force.
A man would have been disappointed or angry when she backed away, but he could smell her decision even before she moved. She let her obi fall to the ground, soon followed by the crude kimono, both joining her discarded apron. He stared at her with hungry eyes, a faint red creeping up behind the gold, secretly enjoying the sight that was her bare flesh.
She was lean and strong, with the curves of a woman, yet not those of one claimed by a male. She was unspoiled, and would forever bear the faintness of his scent. His and no other, even when she returned to her monk. He smirked at that idea. He had no intention of marking her or claiming her, but still, underneath it all, she would always be his. Her rain-washed, bloodstained lily scent enveloped him and he inhaled it, the smirk on his face deepening. It was the stench of blood that she carried that fascinated him most.
She was a killer.
He was pacing around her once more, taking in every angle before taking her completely. His eyes narrowed as they fell on the bandages that hugged her chest and he sneered. She attempted to hide a part of herself from him? That simply would not be tolerated.
He blurred up behind her, one hand reaching around to gently tease the sensitive skin north of her gender, and the other tracing firmly down her collarbone and cleavage, his sharp claws slicing through first skin and then cloth. He caught the scraps, inhaling the saturated scent that clung to them before discarding them. Needling his claws into her skin, he spun her around, razor lines of blood appearing on the curve of her hip. He saw her bite back the pain, smirking to himself.
She was strong.
He saw the briefest trace of fear flash through her eyes as he raised her chin, exposing her neck. Was she afraid he would mark her? He admitted, some deep part of himself wanted to, but he wouldn't. He would not disgrace himself by making a human his mate, let alone a demon slayer. Still, he drank in her fear, pleased that the strongest slayer in generations was chilled by him.
She was smart.
He pressed his tongue against the streak of blood that marked her ribcage, traveling upwards over the unblemished flesh between her breasts to lap up the trail he'd left on her, enjoying the sweet taste of her sweat-moistened skin. He lingered at her shoulder, making her shiver in fearful anticipation. For a second, he regretted giving her this chance at life. Had he killed her, he could have savored all of her blood, tasted all of her flesh, and left the bones for her monk to mourn over.
He pressed up against her, his claws making her reciprocate the action, feeling the heat of her body increasing through the silk of his kimono and the folds of his hakama. He held his pressure against her, moving tantalizingly until she released the soft moan of hidden pleasure she'd been choking back. That sweet, delicious sound fed the insane monster he kept restrained and he flung her to the forest floor, pinning her strong, helpless body beneath him.
More blood leaked from her wounds, and he licked them clean once more, this time remembering to tend to the ones that made her squirm with delight. Stray droplets fell upon the fur of his mokomoko, cradled beneath her, but he ignored them, pleased that her scent would stay there. Once her body was free of the delicious, sticky nectar, he pulled back, his sharp ears catching the whimper she tried to swallow. Despite her efforts, she was enjoying this. Quickly, he stripped, joining her in nudity, and captured her beneath his weight again.
Spasms wracked her body when their sexes met and he dug his claws into her arms. "Be still," he demanded, his tongue catching the blood that trickled from her mouth, her teeth were sunk so far into her lip, holding her defiant silence. Her body quieted, shuddering softly now, and he aligned his head with her entrance, watching her eyes fly open wider than before as he penetrated her slowly.
~x~x~x~
Sango's eyes went wide as Sesshomaru entered her, her tongue curling against the pleasantly pained gasp that wanted to burst free. Heat shot through her pelvis and into her body, igniting the blood that seeped from his claw marks. Muscles she had never used before stretched and tore, greedily pulling him deeper inside her. Her hips bucked freely, detached from her control and her toes grabbed at the grass, desperate to find purchase, to increase the immense pleasure she was not supposed to be feeling.
Her breath came in ragged gasps, hissing between her clenched teeth and agitating the sores that marred her bottom lip where she bit down on it. She would not enjoy this; it was punishment. She would not hate this; it was mercy. Blissful, mind-blowing mercy.
"No!" she snarled, snapping her mind back to its place, arching into Sesshomaru as he looked at her with hard eyes, shoving himself deep inside her as if to remind her that she had chosen. Where she not so focused on retaining what little dignity she had left, her eyes would have rolled back and she would have moaned at the pressure pushing against her still-tight walls.
Sesshomaru knew that she was resisting, just tolerating the experience, not basking in the exhilaration. She could tell he knew by the way his tongue flicked across her nipples, and how he sucked greedily at the wounds he'd left on her. She could tell by the way his claws bit at her whenever she rose into him, forcing her to jump, to allow a little more penetration than her body wanted to handle.
"No," she spat again, this time at him as he pushed too far, the sensation being more pain than pleasure. Naturally, he ignored her, repeating the action, looking pleased at the agony that broke her façade, allowing a low moan to escape. She quickly bit it off, clamping her lips tighter. She would not enjoy this.
A flux of demonic energy flooded her senses, and she looked at Sesshomaru with defiant eyes, her brown reflecting the glowing red. She shivered as he released just enough of his power so that his teeth became the daggers they truly were. Her body continued moving, so far beyond her control that she was barely aware of it aside from the hateful pleasure, and she turned her head, eyes finally scrunching shut as he bit into the soft flesh of her arm, intent on causing her pain.
Her arm throbbed, her groin pulsed and quivered, bucking earnestly to get him to let go, but still he bit down, the pressure of his jaws cracking down on her bones. Finally, just before they broke, she screamed, a note that carried all her pained, euphoric frustration. The trees shook at the sound, sending a few curious birds scurrying away.
"I warned you, slayer, not to distance yourself," Sesshomaru said icily, shoving too deep into her again and gripping his claws into the bite. This time, she gasped at the pain and moaned at the release, no longer able to block her voice.
"I'm sorry, Lord Sesshomaru. I will not –" she was interrupted by a scream of delight ripping from her throat. "-waste your mercy."
He did not respond, returning to tasting her nipples and violating her innocence, a piece of him rumbling deeply at the sounds she now made. He was less gentle, pushing deep inside her, his efforts rewarded by her pulling him in, pressing her body flat against his. Her fingernails dug into his skin, digging deep tracks that made him cringe into her, causing her to quiver. Several times she screamed his name, unsure if she included the title or not; not caring either way.
Time dragged on, and still he kept riding her, forcing her past her endurance. When he finally came, she was slick and exhausted, but still her body loosed another ground shaking scream. She did not feel him extract himself, too sore to notice the extra pain, nor did she feel him drape her own peasant's kimono over her bare body. She was not aware that the plushness of his mokomoko no longer held her or that the grass was cold or that the stars stared at her in scandalous shock. She vaguely acknowledged him walking away, leaving her naked in the clearing, as composed as if nothing had happened. For really, aside from their memories, nothing had. None would know of her treachery. The world passed by her, unnoticed. She was dead to it, submerged in her shameful bliss. Slowly, the forbidden tears leaked down her face, further staining her body, but she let them fall, closing her eyes.
She was alive.
Author's Notes: *squirms uncomfortably* Well…there it is. I hope you perverse sickos have as much fun reading this as this perverse sicko had writing it. (Don't get mad, just accept it)
Peace, love, and puppies,
~KagirinaiEternal