Uninhibited
A Companion Story to "On the Way"
An Aoshi/Misao Fanfic
Rated M for sexual content
Disclaimer: All rights and ownership to Nobuo Watsuki and official companies.
Summary: Taking place after "On the Way," this story is Misao and Aoshi's wedding night! Aoshi says he doesn't drink alcohol, but what is that reason? A touching (and touching) story of how the romance between Aoshi and Misao moves to the next level.
…
"Congratulations!"
Cheers and shouts reverberated the walls of the Aoiya. Misao and Aoshi sat in the middle of a crowd of raucous laughter. Drinks poured freely and food was spread lavishly on the table. Kuro and Shiro had worked together with Sae and her chefs at the Shirobeko to put together a feast to celebrate the marriage of Misao to Aoshi.
"Look, a letter arrived for you, Misao," Omasu exclaimed as she came running in and held out the paper to the bride. "Read it!"
"It's from Kaoru-san," Misao pulled her heavily decorated kimono sleeve from trailing around as she reached over to table to take the folded paper. She opened it so Aoshi could read it too. "She says congratulations from everyone in Tokyo. Kaoru-san wished to come in person, but because of her pregnancy, Himura won't let her travel."
"A baby!" the women squealed in their drunken state. "Oh, it'll be adorable."
Misao folded the letter and handed it to Aoshi who tucked it safely away in his formal clothing to protect it for her.
"Aoshi-sama, are you feeling alright?" Misao asked her quiet husband as he picked up his tea cup.
"Aah," he replied and patted her hand to reassure her. "It's a good celebration, isn't it?"
"Yes, it is," Misao agreed and turned her hand in his to give it a squeeze.
Though they were married, Misao and Aoshi were still just beginning to learn about their romance. Both knew they couldn't live without the other. That much was clear in their recent time apart. While Aoshi was helping the government with problems in Kyushu, Misao found that she missed Aoshi. But it wasn't the same kind of missing she experienced before as a child.
"Misao, are your legs alright?" Aoshi asked quietly. He looked down at her constricted legs in the formal kimono and how she had been sitting properly for over an hour without complaint.
"I can't feel them anymore, so it's fine," Misao answered.
Aoshi looked at her in concern, trying to decipher if she was joking or not.
"I'm kidding, Aoshi-sama. I can sit like this for a few hours before I have to move," Misao assured him. "I'm trained to sit. It was a frequent punishment for when I was too loud as a child."
Reaching out, Misao picked up her cup. Though she was by far the strongest drinker in the Aoiya Oniwabanshuu, she was still sipping at her first cup of sake. Aoshi, the weakest of them all, refused any offer.
"Are you okay from the ceremonial sake, Aoshi-sama?" Misao asked as she took a sip. For the exchange of vows, they had shared a cup in front of the priest.
"I'm fine, Misao," Aoshi said as he picked some food for her and held it up to her mouth.
"Oh, look how lovey-dovey these two are," Shiro and Kuro leaned in as Aoshi fed Misao. "It's good. Eat up!"
"New rule! Misao must feed Aoshi and Aoshi can only feed Misao! No eating for yourselves," Okina yelled in a drunken stupor.
"Jiiya, what kind of silly game is that?" Misao laughed at the old man.
"If you don't follow the rules," Okina pondered, "then you have to drink a shot of sake."
"That's not fair. Aoshi-sama doesn't drink," Misao sat up and threw a napkin at Okina.
"Then he better feed you. I won't allow you to drink for him," Okina laughed.
"Misao," Aoshi's calm voice brought her back down. "It's a harmless game. Here."
Automatically, Misao opened her mouth for the food he offered her. A boisterous cheer went up from the onlookers.
"Okina will probably forget in a few minutes," Aoshi said realistically.
"True," Misao agreed with a smile. Using her chopsticks, she put together a bite for Aoshi. "For you."
Aoshi leaned down for the food and chewed amidst another cheer.
The party went on and the Shirobeko workers finally excused themselves as the night settled in. The Aoiya was going to have a vacation, but the Shirobeko was going to return to their regular hours the next day.
Once it was just the Aoiya workers, Misao went ahead and stretched her legs. Needles of pain tingled through them as she felt the blood return to a normal flow through them. The men folk were a hopeless mess, lying atop each other as they slept due to intoxication. Okon and Omasu still managed to function, but they were so busy gossiping amongst themselves that they were oblivious to Misao and Aoshi.
"I'm going to get them some blankets," Misao pointed to the slumbering men. "I'll be right back."
Misao came back to find Okon and Omasu also dozing. She covered them all before locking the front door to the inn.
"Come on, Aoshi-sama," Misao whispered from the doorway.
He stood and snagged the last bottle of sake from the table before following Misao to his room. After some discussion, they decided to share Aoshi's room, as it was more secluded from the rest of the Aoiya. It was also a bigger space.
Okon and Omasu had prepared the room before they went down for the party. The couple's futon was new, since they had never needed one in the Aoiya before. They also set up a kimono rack, just for the day, since Misao's ceremonial kimono required it.
Aoshi closed the door behind him as Misao let out a sigh.
"Who would have thought getting married would take so much energy?" Misao tried to stretch in her tight clothing. "I take it back. Getting married isn't tiring, wearing thirty pounds of silk is tiring."
"Shall I help you take it off?"
Misao was fumbling with trying to find the cord knot Okon had tied inside the massive obi bow. And failing miserably. Embarrassed that Aoshi would undress her, but seeing no other option of freeing herself before her patience ran out, she turned to her new husband with rosy cheeks.
"Yes, please, Aoshi-sama."
Aoshi stepped over to her and with efficiency, untied the decorative cords and loosened the large, convoluted bow, before telling her to lift her arms while he unwound the long sash from her waist. He set the obi on the kimono stand before moving to her front. She was working on the hidden belt that still kept the kimono closed.
"Misao, move your hands," Aoshi pulled her hands away. He knew she was embarrassed that he was undressing her. They had barely started expressing any romantic interest in each other, after all. "It's okay, Misao."
Three layers later, Aoshi finally stopped. Misao busied herself with straightening the silk garments on the rack while Aoshi went to his closet to change into his usual sleeping yukata.
"Are you cold, Misao?" Aoshi asked. He had a padded jacket he was about to put on.
"A little," Misao confessed. She was in the thin cotton base layer and the autumn night was getting chilly.
"Here," Aoshi draped the hanten jacket over her shoulders, giving her both warmth and coverage over the plain white garment that was more revealing than her a regular yukata. "Better?"
"Yes, Aoshi-sama, thank you." Misao was grateful for Aoshi's slightly uncharacteristic attention.
Since his return from the government job in Kyushu, they had both revealed deeper feelings towards each other and intended on cultivating a new relationship. This meant their actions were slowly changing as they became more accustomed to their feelings and shared them.
"Would you like a drink?" Aoshi picked up the small ceramic bottle of alcohol he brought up from the party and offered it to her.
"Sure." Misao reached for the drink. She took a sip and paused. "Why did you bring this? You don't drink."
Taking the bottle back from her, Aoshi crossed his legs and sat on the futon to pull her onto his lap.
"You are my wife now, Misao. You should know how I am, in all ways. I don't drink because I lose my control."
Misao twisted to look warily up at him and crossed her arms around herself. She knew wedding nights meant having sex, she just wasn't sure about having sex with a drunk, out-of-control Aoshi.
"What are you thinking, Misao?" Aoshi looked down at her action. "I'm not going to assault you."
"Yeah, how can you be sure, you drunk you?" Misao teased and settled herself more comfortably in Aoshi's hold after hearing his reassurance.
"It may be a surprise to you; I have a tight control on my actions and emotions," Aoshi held the alcohol in the air, "but when I have a drink, I get… chatty."
"You? Chatty?" Misao looked up to Aoshi and smiled wickedly. "Drink up, honey."
Aoshi raised a toast, 'to my wife,' before tipping the whole contents down his throat. He leaned to put the bottle safely to the side before wrapping his arms around Misao.
"You are a good drinker, aren't you?" Misao noticed that the burn of the alcohol had no effect on him.
"Not as good as you," Aoshi commented as he recalled Misao's incredible ability to drink. "You didn't have much tonight."
"That's okay. It's not as if I particularly enjoy drinking," Misao said.
"You smell good," Aoshi said as he played with her hair. The alcohol was already lowering his ability to control his words.
"Sae-san had some perfume she let me use," Misao replied, lifting her wrist and breathing in the fading scent.
"Hm, sandalwood," Aoshi leaned in, "and cinnamon. And something floral?"
"That tickles, Aoshi-sama," Misao giggled as Aoshi breathed over her skin. He stopped, but didn't release his hold on her wrist.
"You're so small," he said instead, wrapping her even tighter in his arms. "Perfect for holding, though."
"Oh, yeah?" Misao prompted. Drunk Aoshi was going to be interesting.
"M-hm. You looked very beautiful today in your kimono," Aoshi praised as he looked to the hanging garment before looking down at her again. "I knew you would be a beautiful bride."
"You imagined how I would look?" Misao played with his long fingers.
"I did. When I was alone in Kyushu. I thought about you often. I thought of when Okina said we should marry and I couldn't help but imagine it."
"Was it as good as you imagined?"
"Better," he replied immediately. "So much better."
"You were really handsome in a hakama," Misao returned. "I don't recall ever seeing you in formal wear like that before."
"I don't particularly like hakama; too loose." Aoshi kept to his fitted uniform pants or yukata. "You look very good in one."
Aoshi thought of Misao's new outfit of yukata and hakama. It fit her personality, giving her the freedom to run around while giving her the modesty society required someone her age.
"I need to buy a new yukata now," Misao mused. "As a married woman, I have to change some things."
A woman's clothing said a lot about her. Not just her preference to color or theme, but age and relation status. Her current clothing would be inappropriate for a married woman.
"Can I come with you?"
Misao laughed. "Why don't you think about that again when you're sober? I doubt you actually want to go clothes shopping with me."
"I want to. I want to do all sorts of things with Misao."
She blushed at his words, again becoming very aware that it was their wedding night.
"I want to go shopping with Misao. I want to go to the theater. I want to travel with you and stay at home with you. I want to talk with you and just sit in silence with you. I want to sleep with you." Aoshi turned her head and stared into her eyes. "And I want to sleep with you."
Misao floundered a bit, but had no rebuttal.
"No, Misao, just because it's our wedding night doesn't mean we have to do it now. I'm just saying, I do want to. When it's the right time for us." He smoothed her hair back in a soothing pet.
Laughing nervously, Misao said, "Yeah, I wonder when that will be?"
Suddenly, Aoshi was pressing his forehead against hers and confessing, "I love it when you smile and laugh, Misao. It has always been my favorite thing in the world."
"Really?" her question was a shy breath against his lips as he leaned in close.
"Really," he repeated, just as quietly. Misao could smell the rice wine on his breath and wondered if he tasted like it.
"I guess, I'll just have to keep smiling," Misao tilted her head, "and laughing for you, then."
"I'll do whatever it takes," Aoshi leaned down, "to give you reasons to."
His mouth brushed over hers and they both inhaled at the sensation. Misao's eyes flickered closed, but Aoshi kept his open a slight crack as he experimentally pressed his lips against her again. The shiver that shook Misao's body had Aoshi cradling her more securely as his drunken freedom let him continue to kiss Misao. He couldn't tell if he was doing it particularly well or if Misao was enjoying it.
When he pulled away, Misao let out a low whine. Her lips were cold without his and she was just building up the courage to kiss back.
"Shall I kiss you more, Misao?" Aoshi inquired, brushing his thumb over her cheek. When she nodded, he chuckled and told her, "Say it, then."
"Aoshi-sama, will you," she swallowed, "kiss me more?"
"Good girl," Aoshi praised before placing more kisses on her mouth.
Slowly getting used to the motion, Misao tentatively kissed back and nearly missed a heartbeat when a moan escaped Aoshi. It was thrilling to hear and Misao experimented to see if she could get even more reactions from him.
But it was Misao who was moaning when Aoshi pulled her mouth open gently and slid his tongue into her mouth. He drank in her voice and held her as her body arched at the sensation.
"Nnh, Misao, if you react this well," Aoshi panted and licked her swollen lips, "I won't know where to stop."
"Don't," Misao gasped and fisted her hands in his silken hair. "Don't stop then."
Shifting her position, Misao twisted herself so she could kneel in front of Aoshi straight on. Placing a knee on each side of his hips, she leaned in to restart their activities. Aoshi wrapped his arms around her back and neck to support her as she rested heavily against his torso.
Together they learned what worked and what they liked. And as they were both trained fighters, they knew if they wanted to get better, they needed to practice. Misao was panting heavily and was having a hard time staying upright, so Aoshi slowly disengaged and guided her to sit and rest.
"Oh, Misao, you always are so enthusiastic, aren't you?" Aoshi rubbed his thumb over her bottom lip. The rouge she applied there for the wedding was long gone from his repeated licks and sucks, but a natural redness replaced the cosmetic.
"Isn't it okay to be that way? There's nothing wrong with being interested," Misao defended herself. Her hands had, during the course of their actions, travelled to twist the front of his yukata open to show a sliver of his chest. Scars peeked out. Her hand loosened and with a gentle brush of her fingertips, she traced one. "Can I see, Aoshi-sama?"
"I suppose so. I've shown you the drunk version of me. You might as well see the physical me, too," Aoshi answered, but made no move.
"May I?" Misao slid her hands over his collar when he didn't offer to open his clothing.
"You may," Aoshi allowed. He loved that, though he needed the help of alcohol to lower his guard to be open and frank with Misao, she just needed a bit of encouragement and the reassurance that she was safe, to do the same.
Hesitantly, as if she was giving Aoshi a chance to stop her, Misao pulled open his yukata to see a network of scars across his torso. First, she just looked him over, a solemn look in her eyes. But then she reached out and traced the lines. Some were raised, others flat, some red, some light.
"You needed a better doctor," Misao finally sighed as she finished her journey across the lattice of scars. "Megumi-san's medicine does wonders. Though, I suppose you refused treatments until everyone else was seen to."
"Are you appalled at the sight?" Aoshi asked softly. On the journey to and from Tokyo and during his assignment on Kyushu, he hid himself from the view of others in the public baths. Civilians were always horrified by his mutilated skin.
"Appalled? Damn right, I'm appalled. How could you allow yourself to get injured this much? You're a spy, not a front line foot soldier. What were you doing, getting into so many confrontations?" Misao chided him loudly.
"Shh, Misao," Aoshi kissed her briefly to silence her. "They're sleeping downstairs. And besides," he returned to the conversation, "I look better than the other guys."
"Yes, I suppose. Dead and decaying isn't a good look for anyone." Misao relaxed. "Still, when you start your job with the government, I expect you to be treated better than this."
"I'll be sure to check on their medical capabilities as soon as I start. I have a wife who worries about me now," Aoshi said proudly.
"You always had people who worried about you," Misao insisted. She was absent-mindedly running her hands over him. A few of the ridges were his scars, but most were his muscles lurking beneath.
"Misao, you tease me," Aoshi tapped her hands with a finger, but didn't stop her. He raised an eyebrow instead. "It makes me wonder, does Misao has any scars of her own?"
"Me?" Misao stammered. The thought of Aoshi looking at her bare skin as plainly as she looked at his sent her heart racing. "I have a few small ones. Here and there. And…"
"And?" Aoshi asked, concerned with the sudden rigidity of her body on his lap.
"And the one on my back."
"Is that not also a little one?" Aoshi inquired harmlessly, the alcohol still playing its role in keeping his filter out of the way.
"No, not so much." Misao scooched back and off Aoshi's lap. She fiddled with her sleeves as she said, "It's not so much the scar that's the problem. It's now I got it. I don't think you'll be happy if you heard it."
"The story is how you got injured and have a scar. Of course I wouldn't be happy about it." Aoshi reached out and stopped her fingers from tearing at the hem of her sleeves.
Misao couldn't meet his gaze and couldn't tell her story, even though he waited patiently.
"How about you turn around and tell me?" Aoshi reached out and helped Misao face away from him. "So, when did it happen?"
"Uh, it was when I was fifteen. I went out to look for you and the others. I had to avoid the government, obviously, since I was alone." Misao always though the law against women travelling alone was dumb, but this story was exactly why it was outlawed. "I was in Shizuoka prefecture, cutting across a forest path to shave off some time and ran across a group of bandits in the middle of the night."
It was summer time and Misao preferred to do any forest travel at night when the insects were at their quietest. What she failed to take into account was the gang of men reportedly ambushing travelers in that area.
"There were… twelve of them. Which I handled fine, but it was when I was leaving that three more came back. I was juggling my bag and my kunai and they were able to surround me," Misao regaled. "The leader was the only one with a sword. The other two lunged and the leader got me across the back."
Misao made a slash motion with her hand. A classic, simple slice from upper right to lower left.
"I escaped from a deep cut by launching between the other two. They were hit worse, actually. But the blade wasn't well maintained and it wasn't a clean cut." Misao stiffened when she felt Aoshi pull the jacket off her shoulders. "I got to a clinic in the next village and the doctor bandaged me up and let me rest for a day."
Aoshi reached around her and opened the collar to pull the clothing from her shoulders, exposing her back and the ragged scar to him.
"I came home, instead of completing my journey to Tokyo that time," Misao concluded.
"May I?"
Misao could already feel the heat from his hand hovering over her skin. She nodded and bit down to keep from squeaking as he traced the flat scar. Even though it was smooth to the touch, Misao could tell the difference in her skin. It pulled differently whenever she moved. It was a constant reminder that she had made a dire miscalculation.
"Ah, my poor Misao," Aoshi stroked her back. He left a trail of fire with his fingers. "You're right. I'm not happy with that story. But," he kissed the top point of her scar, "I'm glad you're here to tell me."
He then folded her forward so he could kiss his way down the cut mark.
"Ah! Aoshi-sama! Misao exclaimed when he pulled her arms from their sleeves so he could expose the last few inches of the scar at her waist. She was very glad that she was facing away and her breasts were, at least partially, hidden from view.
"Now, you said you have other scars," Aoshi recalled.
"No, don't look," Misao wrapped her arms over her breasts when he pulled her up and tried to turn her.
"Misao's not being fair," Aoshi said as he relented. "But I won't look. You have to let me touch them instead."
"What?" Misao squawked and almost whirled around. Almost. "Touch what?"
"Your scars." Aoshi presented his hand. "Let me touch your scars."
Misao looked over her shoulder to him. He gave her a look that told her that was the compromise.
"Okay." Misao sat up and gripped his first finger. "This one was a dart."
She took him on the brief tour of various nicks that left scant reminders across her belly and shoulders.
"And," she paused before she had to drop her defending arm, "this was from a piece of ceramic tile."
Aoshi's fingertip pressed into the soft tissue of Misao's breast. It was one of the longer scars, so he traced it and felt Misao squirm lightly.
"Misao."
"Nnh," she groaned. He had that commanding tone in his voice he normally had. She wouldn't be able to refuse him if he asked her something. Perhaps if she didn't answer, he wouldn't ask.
"Misao," his voice was strained, more insistent.
"Yes, Aoshi-sama?"
"May I touch you more?"
The alcohol really did remove his normal control.
"Uhh…"Misao wavered. How could she say yes? They were just starting to fall in proper love. How could she say no? The thrill she was getting from just him tracing her scar back and forth was more intoxicating than any alcohol she drank before.
"Miiiisaooo?" Aoshi taunted her.
"Yes," Misao agreed. "Yes."
It was hard to tell who sighed first when Misao released her grasp on him and his hand slid to cup the soft weight of her breast. Like with their kisses, it started slowly. Aoshi moved his hand, barely gliding over her skin. He trailed from one breast to the other, over her collarbone, down to her waist. As he moved, Misao felt her breathing hitch. Her hands fisted the pooled fabric of her clothes at her sides as Aoshi continued his blind tour.
"Aah, Aoshi-sama," Misao cried and caved forward when he squeezed her breast.
"Yes, Misao?" Aoshi lifted his other hand to her and teased her more.
"A-Aoshi-sama," Misao whimpered between huffs of air. Her body felt like flames were sliding over her and pooling low in her gut, but she knew it wasn't really in her gut.
"Use your words, Misao," Aoshi prompted her as he pulled her closer and onto his crossed legs. Leaning his chin over her shoulder, he took in her flushed face and sight of his hands fondling the smooth skin of her breasts
Misao couldn't use her words. There were no words in her head. There was only the feeling of his calloused fingers and palms massaging her. There was his breath over her skin as he also became entranced with his actions. There was his heartbeat racing to match her own. And there was the hard shaft of his erection pressing into her where they touched.
"What is it that you want, Misao? Tell me."
"I," she gasped, clenching her fingers on the hard muscle of his thighs she sat between, "want… more? I'm so embarrassed. I want more, Aoshi-sama."
The confession undid Aoshi. Handling her carefully, but with intent, he shoved aside the jacket at her waist and turned to press her back into the futon. He loomed over her and drank in the sight of her.
Hair pooled around her like a shining halo around her rosy, shy expression. Her exposed chest was heaving with attempts to bring air into her lungs. And her legs, still mostly covered, were sprawled for him to crawl between.
"Misao," Aoshi whispered, unable to form anything other than her name.
"Agh," Misao wailed in confusion. She crossed her arms over her eyes in attempt to hide from his gaze, but refusing to run and hide completely as his hands and eyes raked over her body. "Aoshi-sama, you're staring."
"You're beautiful," he declared as he traced all her scars and all her curves with his fingers, then his mouth. He left hot trails along her soft skin.
Beneath him, Misao shook, but not from fear. Of the unknown, maybe, but mostly it was from her anticipation. Blocking off her sight meant she could only react to his touches. When he pinched her nipples she arched up into him in surprise, bumping her pelvis against his lower belly.
The groan that came out of him shocked Misao and she almost lifted her arms to look. But then, the next thing he did had her pressing her arms even harder into her closed eyes as she flailed beneath his steel grasp.
She couldn't ask 'what are you doing,' because it was quite obvious that he was sucking his nipple. Her chest was immobilized, but her feet were free to kick and scramble against the bedding. A variety of noises filled the room and when Misao's foot hit Aoshi's leg by accident, it seemed to break them out of their trance.
"Ah, Misao," he pulled back and saw her twisting around. "I'm sorry. I'll stop."
"Aoshi-sama," Misao panted, her eyes peeking from beneath her raised arms, "I told you. You never need to apologize to me."
"I just need to explain it to you, right?" Aoshi laid over her and nudged her arms higher so he could press his face close to hers. "Here's my explanation, Misao. I love you. I always have, in some shape or other. But now, kissing and touching you, I know that it is a love a man has for a woman. I'm surprised at the sudden revelation and I thought it would be a must slower evolution of feelings. But now it started and if you don't tell me to stop, then I won't be able to."
"You stopped just now," Misao whispered in reference to his attention to her nipples.
"I may be using my mouth to speak instead of suck, but I haven't stopped completely."
Misao had been forcing all her focus on the above the waist activity, but really couldn't ignore that he was pressing his erection lightly into her thigh since he had pinned her to her back.
"The decision is yours, Misao. Tell me to stop and I will. Or, say yes and I promise I'll make you feel good."
"How good?"
"Very."
"Okon said it'll hurt."
"A bit. At first. I won't lie about that."
"How do you know?" Misao asked skeptically.
"I'm an intelligence agent."
"Uh-huh. How much does an intelligence agent know about having sex?" Misao was relaxing as she jested.
"Are you sure? Sure that you want to tease and bait me, Misao?" Aoshi asked quietly.
"You'll be gentle with me, right?"
Aoshi nodded. "I promise."
"Then, yes." Misao turned and kissed him. "I am sure."
The response Misao was very oral, but not at all verbal, as Aoshi claimed her with his own kisses. They started back at the beginning. Their slow kisses grew more intense and Misao was starting to fidget.
"Ah, Misao, watch where you're pressing," Aoshi cautioned her.
She took his words literally and looked down where her leg was pressed between his.
"Sorry, Aoshi-sama," Misao tried to pull her leg away, but was stopped by his legs pinching closed.
"No need to apologize, Misao." Aoshi leaned over her and blew out the single candle illuminating the room. "Don't hide from me anymore."
Pulling Misao's arms over her head, Aoshi held her there so he was free to explore her in the darkness. Kissing and touching, Aoshi worked down Misao without her complaint. When he untied her obi, she arched up so he could unwind it before pushing it, and the fabric, aside.
"Relax, Misao. Breathe," Aoshi instructed, but his hands travelled lower, making it nearly impossible for Misao to do either.
"I'm scared," Misao whispered as his fingers played along the smooth expanse of her legs.
"You don't have to be afraid, Misao," Aoshi reassured her. "Here."
He took her hands and placed one on his heart and one lower on his chest.
"Do you feel that?" He leaned down and kissed her neck. "I'm just as nervous as you."
"You don't seem like it," Misao replied, but her hand tightened on the fabric that separated them. She was scared. Scared because it was new and she couldn't comprehend what her body wanted from her.
"But it's true," he told her. His hands didn't travel, but his thumbs were drawing circles in her thighs and Misao realized her legs were spreading wider and she wanted him to touch her higher.
"I trust you," Misao announced. "Aoshi-sama, I feel like I might die from shame, but…"
"But what?" Aoshi still didn't move. He wouldn't, until he knew what Misao wanted.
"Touch me more. Make me yours." Misao pulled on the fabric, undressing him as he did for her.
"Aah," Aoshi intoned in his regular manner.
That simple sound, right next to her ear sent sparks across her body and pooled between her legs. Misao's hands didn't know what to do as she dumb-foundedly gripped his yukata. His, in contrast, knew exactly what they wanted to do.
Working up her thighs, his thumbs swirled closer to her apex and just as he brushed over her damp curls, he leaned in, kissing over her audible gasp. Swapping from thumbs to fingers, he rolled over her silken folds, spreading her fluids that were already seeping from his touch. Misao's groans spurred him on as he worked her more thoroughly.
He teased a finger into her, stealing in before she could fully realize what happened. Muscles clenched around his digit as soon as her body became aware of the intrusion, but she didn't yell or pull away. Instead, her hips rocked into his hand and he explored lightly, seeing what kind of reactions he could get. He was stroking her deeply, inside and out, when she let out a strangled moan. A tremor shook her as she came slowly and she panted in confusion.
"Misao, this might feel a little uncomfortable for a bit," Aoshi braced her legs up and spread her more before he slid a second finger into her. She mewled at the discomfort as he stretched her, but did little to fight against the insertion.
After a bit of work, Misao was, once more, meeting Aoshi's strokes with fervor. Embarrassment was thrown aside in favor for the rush of endorphins to her brain. She was begging him for more before she realized it.
"Aoshi-sama," Misao panted. Her hands had finally released his clothes to smooth over his hand and hips. She teased closer to what she knew was there, but didn't take it into her grasp.
"Take it, Misao," Aoshi encouraged her. He had gone without stimulus since he knelt off of her and could no longer hump her leg.
Her fingers edged closer and she ran along the length of his underside. His reaction had her surprised, but she merely matched his moans when she fucked his fingers with a jerk of her body.
They fell into a pattern of acting and reacting. When Misao pumped her hand over Aoshi's cock, he mirrored the movement inside her until she climaxed again.
"Misao, no more. I have to," Aoshi pressed his forehead against hers and pulled his fingers out.
"No, Aoshi-sama," Misao lamented the loss of the pressure inside her, not knowing she was about to receive something much more than two fingers.
"I can't wait any more." His fingers, slick with Misao's cum slid over his penis and Misao's hand and guided both to her entrance. "Bite my shoulder if you need to."
His words didn't make any sense. But then, it was exactly what she was doing. Her hand was caught by his as he slid his cock between her wet folds. Even though he had fingered her and stretched her, she wasn't prepared for the searing pain in her most sensitive spot. Aoshi guided her hand to be the one to press him inside.
He let her go at her pace after he breached her entrance. Misao was panting and struggling with herself for a minute while she tried to get her whole body to reach an agreement. When she did, Misao wasted no time and plunged him so deeply, she pushed their hands away to slide him to the hilt.
"No…dachi," Misao laughed in slight delirium. There was still the white hot stab of pain, but she could feel through it. Any worthwhile fighter could experience pain while still maintaining awareness of other aspects.
"What?" Aoshi grunted. He was almost going to come just from sliding into her tight vagina.
"It's not a kodachi or a katana. You," Misao shifted, already phasing out of the pain and feeling the pleasure of his long shaft inside her, "are a nodachi."
Aoshi was rocking into her as her grip on his forearms lost their painful vicelike bite. As her hips slid back and forth, Aoshi lengthened their stride, almost pulling completely out before sliding fully back.
Mesmerized by the sight of her, Aoshi watched Misao's changing expression as they shifted gears and he lifted her higher. She was flexible and capable as he handled her, moving her legs and changing their positions a few times.
She found her pleasure spot when Aoshi hooked her legs over his arms, crying 'there' over and over until she fell into an explosive orgasm. Aoshi rode her hard through it, ignoring any thought that told him to be gentle with her. As her walls milked him tightly, he came fully into her.
Once she stopped convulsing, it took the span of five rapid heartbeats before Misao leaned up to shed Aoshi of his clothing completely.
"On your back, Aoshi-sama," she ordered. And as he obeyed, she tossed her clothes aside too. Rocking on him, still fully impaled, Misao purred, "I can feel you're still hard."
Aoshi pressed up into her with his pelvis and shook her to her core. Resting his hands on her hips and giving them a rub, he replied, "So it seems."
"Can I do something about it?"
"I wish you would."
Misao showed off her stamina by teasing Aoshi relentlessly. She mixed up a series of long, slow strokes, with short, quick thrusts, and with fully seated rocking, until Aoshi felt his erection return full force.
When he felt himself teetering near the edge, but saw that Misao was nowhere close, he took her hand. Licking her fingers, he then put them to her clit.
"Ride," he ordered.
"What?" Misao was flustered by the new development.
Aoshi taught her by example and a handful of minutes later, they were lying in a tangle of sweaty limbs. They both caught their breath before Aoshi dragged Misao closer to him.
"Are you alright?" He asked as he moved her hair off her face and neck. "Does it hurt?"
"I'm fine. I'll be fine," Misao replied and stretched with a wince. "It's like training. Really, really intense training."
"You were wonderful, Misao," Aoshi praised her and kissed her cheek. "Truly."
"Aoshi-sama?" Misao curled into him, warm and content, even as the raging hormones subsided from her body, leaving her in a hazy bliss.
"Yes, Misao?"
"I know you aren't drunk anymore."
"When did you figure that out?"
"When you blew out the candle." Misao shivered as the night chill started to bite at her naked body.
"I can see lying, secrets, and surprises won't work on you," Aoshi commented as he kicked the blanket up so he could cover them.
"Were you forcing yourself?" Misao slid her hand into his.
"Only a little. Though, I used the guise of alcohol to give me the confidence to do it." He stroked her side as he fell silent.
"Thank you, Aoshi-sama. You did a lot for me tonight."
"I should thank you, Misao. I really was willing to wait."
"I know. But I'm glad we did it. It's not just because it's our wedding night," Misao squeezed his fingers. "I think we did become closer. And this proves what we're willing to do for each other."
Aoshi pressed a kiss to the top of her head.
"You realize—"
"—it's not going to be like this all the time?" Misao completed and expanded on his thought, "Just who do you think I am? I'm Makimachi Misao. I don't expect you to change overnight just because we got married and had sex."
"Shinomori Misao."
"Hm?" Misao was yawning and nearly missed his words.
"Shinomori. Not Makimachi. Shinomori Misao," Aoshi corrected her. "You'll get used to it."
"Mm-hm… I like hearing you say it," Misao murmured as her body relaxed.
Cradling Misao carefully, Aoshi rocked her, whispering, "If that's the case, then I'll use it as often as you'd like." He kissed her forehead and told her, "Sleep well, Shinomori Misao, my beautiful wife.
"Good night, husband," Misao mumbled back, already blissfully falling asleep in the arms of the man she loved.
-The End-
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Author's notes: Love it? Hate it? Eh about it? Leave a review if you have a minute! Getting reviews is (not why I write, but it is) my favorite thing to see when I post it up!