I.
Knock. Knock.
Rattle.
Knock. Knock. Knock…
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"Good morning, Kagome," said the tall, black-haired beauty flipping the omelet in the frying pan, his deep, silky-smooth voice eliciting a shudder down Kagome's spine. Dressed in her school uniform, she self-consciously pulled down the hem of her short, plaid skirt. 'Bastard. Acting like the perfect step-father… Makes me sick!' "Yeah, mornin'," she muttered as she went around the opposite end of the kitchen table to get to the fridge.
"Such a loving daughter," he chuckled darkly, shoveling two portions of the omelet on to two plates. "I made breakfast," he said, turning around to see her filling up a thermos with coffee. "Can't," she said as she finished screwing on the top, grabbing a slice of toast from the plate placed at the center of the table, making her way to the front door. She reached for her coat, but instead found a large, slender, alabaster hand holding it out for her. Trying to grab it from him, he jerked it away saying, "Shoes on first."
'Ugh...' She slipped into her brown loafers, then turned around again, glaring at him. Instead of annoying him, a sultry smirk spread across his gorgeous features. 'Flawless...' She stopped herself just before she knew her breath would catch, ignoring the sudden butterflies in her stomach. He was still holding out her coat like a gentleman. Sighing, she turned away from him to allow him to help her into her coat. She particularly hated the way his touch made her shiver as those graceful hands slid down from her shoulders and gently spun her around to face him.
He was looking at her as if she were the most exquisite piece of art. It sent a thrill of disgust through her. His hands gently gripped her upper arms as he leaned forward to place a chaste kiss to her forehead, though it lasted a little too long for her comfort. "Have a nice day at school," his voice rumbled deeply in his chest, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. Breaking his all-too loving gaze, she grabbed her bag and practically ran out the door. "See ya," she threw over her shoulder as she hurried through the gate and jogged away. She didn't see when his expression turned into a sad smile.
Kagome rushed all the way to the train station, her heart beating frantically. 'Who gave him the right to be so damned attractive?!' Her mind raged as she swiped her school ID and passed through the ticket stalls to the platform. The gust of cold wind helped to clear the lusty haze that Naraku always seemed to ignite in her nowadays. Of course, it hadn't always been like this. When her mother was still alive, for instance. He was the perfect father figure she'd missed out on since her own father had died in a car accident when she was five. It had torn their family apart, her paternal grandfather insisting on keeping her little brother Souta, saying it was best that the next heir to the Higurashi shrine remain with him.
It nearly broke her mother. They saw Souta on his birthday and holidays, but… Kagome knew she'd never recovered. When she met and married Naraku, she was genuinely happy for a few years. Kagome had been thirteen when he'd come in to their lives, like a shining prince riding on a magnificent, white steed. Unfortunately, her mother would never truly love her step-father. As their marriage deteriorated and her mother began to slip away from reality, Kagome had been sure Naraku would leave her mother. But he didn't. He stayed and played the perfect husband, the perfect father. He tried to bring her mother back from her nearly vegetable induced state by all the medication she'd been taking for depression, anxiety and hallucinations. He'd stood by her mother until her very last breath. She'd faded away, her skin ashen, her body practically skeletal as she'd been bedridden for a whole year before she let go of the last thread that held her to reality.
Naraku had automatically gained custody of her when her mother passed, her grandfather not even slightly interested in his granddaughter. Kagome had been fifteen when her mother was first hospitalized for a suicide attempt. When she was sixteen, just days before her seventeenth birthday, her mother had found release. The funeral had been a quick, simple affair, with only a few of her mother's close college friends and her brother and grandfather attending. At the reception, she'd glanced at Naraku, seeing how he hid his pain underneath his fake smile. He'd taken care of everything, shaking everyone's hand and thanking them for coming with a smile on his face. She'd been frozen, almost catatonic, and could barely respond when people came up to her to give their condolences.
An announcement broke through her thoughts. She shivered. Looking over at the incoming train, she waited for its doors to open and filed in with the rest of the crowd. She didn't see the tall silhouette of Naraku as his heated auburn eyes protectively watched her stand by the doors after they'd closed, watched her as she stared wistfully out the pane of glass at nothing. She didn't once look his way, remaining oblivious. It had been his routine every morning, no matter what, to follow her to the station and make sure she got on the train. It didn't matter if she ever knew or not. He would protect her.
Kagome arrived at school, put her bag and street shoes in her locker and gathered her books for the day. She was regretting her flippant attitude towards Naraku that morning, just as she did every morning. His kind hearted affection made her sick to her stomach, and she lashed out at him. It had been that way ever since her mother died. Why did she always have to act like such a spoiled brat around him? She hated herself for it, and hated him for still being so nice to her even though she didn't deserve it. He'd been the parent when her mother slipped away from reality, he'd been there when she was left all alone by her heartless grandfather. He didn't have to continue being her guardian, and she would soon be turning eighteen anyways. It was time for her to move out on her own. 'Right, I should start looking for a part-time job and a studio apartment close to university,' she mused as she sat at her usual desk at the back corner of the classroom, next to the window.
She didn't even notice when the teacher entered, automatically standing with the other students as they ground out the proper greeting. Her eyes were unfocused, not seeing or hearing that they had a substitute. As Mr. Taishō introduced himself to the class, he took note of the somber, blue-eyed girl seated in the back. 'What a beauty,' his inner voice murmured, but he dismissed it and turned his attention back to the rest of the class. Finishing roll-call, he sat down at his desk and began preparing for the rest of the day. 'I'm subbing for History as well as English...' Between shuffling his papers and stealing glances at the girl called Higurashi Kagome, a new feeling began to blossom within him. It was unsettling, but not unwelcome. 'How long has it been? I wonder...' His late human wife, Izayoi, had been a classic beauty whom he'd thought would be his soul mate. He sighed. 'Fate can be quite mysterious...'
Kagome sat in the quad, sipping her thermos of coffee, while taking tiny bites of the sweet melon pan she'd gotten at the vending machine. The cold stone of the bench bit into the backs of her thighs. She stared unseeing at the hubbub and felt numb. She used to have friends who would sit with her. She used to laugh at silly things and share in their gossip. Even that boy, Hojo, who had seemingly liked her had drifted away. One by one they had all left her to her own personal hell. Now she'd steeled herself against the ache of loneliness and accepted her self-inflicted solitude. Lost in her gloomy thoughts, she didn't hear someone sit on the other side of the stone bench.
'Mind if I sit?" A low, masculine voice reverberated in her skull, pulling her out of her daydream. Nodding once, she was about to return to her silent musings, when he broke through her haze once again. "Higurashi-san, was it?" Turning to him, the sight of the dashingly good-looking man made her heart jolt, her eyes widening. His smile beamed at her, warming her like a ray of sun, "Sorry, did I startle you?" He grimaced, this wasn't how it was supposed to go. She seemed to register his words, then slightly parted her lips to softly utter, "Just Kagome's fine..." He blinked, staring at her casual demeanor. Her voice sounded hollow, mirroring her eyes. Very becoming eyes rimmed with thick, full eyelashes. He felt a blush heat his face for a second, then he broke eye contact, shaking his head in vague amusement.
"I was your homeroom teacher this morning." No answer. "I believe you're also in my History and English class for today..." Again, he received no reply. He looked up at the clear, blue, winter sky and then decided to be more daring, "Your eyes are the most becoming shade of blue. Are you half European?" To this, she lifted her eyes to his and faintly smiled. "My father was foreign." His amber eyes widened a fraction, intrigued. "He must be very proud of having such a pretty young lady as his daughter," he said innocently enough. Her eyes darkened, then she turned away, looking out once more over the now nearly deserted quad. "My step-father is ingratiating enough, thanks," she said icily, her harsh timbre prickling his skin with goosebumps. 'She acts tsundere, like my eldest,' he mused, the spike in her pheromones telling him otherwise. The bell rang, signaling the end of the lunch period. He stood, casting another glance at the odd girl who hadn't moved an inch.
"Come," he said, holding out his hand towards her, "walk with me, Kagome-chan." He smiled down at her, willing her to take his hand. Gathering her things, she timidly looked at the hand proffered to her, then up at him. When she didn't take his hand, he almost felt crushed; yet another new feeling around this young woman. But she did follow him back to the classroom, and even humored his attempt at conversation. He didn't know how this girl would play a part in his life, and he was still unsure of himself, not having thought about courting another woman in what seemed like a lifetime. To his dismay, Kagome was still as distant in English as she had been in History that morning, their afternoon chat evidently had less of an effect on the girl as he'd hoped.
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Kagome locked the front door behind her, then carelessly kicked off her shoes before shrugging off her coat and hanging it up on the peg above the shoe rack. Heading straight to her room, she briefly noticed the note on the fridge, saying: Working late tonight. Dinner's in the fridge. 'Like I care,' she sighed hotly and then raced up the stairs to her bedroom. She wouldn't waste another thought on him, she determined. 'He's an adult, he can stay out all night with some cheap lay if he wants.' Falling face first on her bed, she silently screamed her frustrations into her pillow. 'It doesn't matter… I'll soon be eighteen, and then he can't stop me from leaving.' Although she would never admit it, she cared about Naraku and had been torn up for him at her mother's death. Why he'd never brought home a girlfriend was beyond her. She wasn't naïve. She knew he could get any woman he wanted – so why hadn't he moved on?
Some sick pretension of respecting her dead mother? She scoffed at that. Then… for her? 'No… I'm not even going to think about it!' Getting up from the bed, she stripped off her uniform and changed into black leggings and an oversized, navy blue sweatshirt. Pulling on some fuzzy socks, she padded down the stairs into the kitchen, ignoring the note and wrenching open the fridge. Seeing her dinner covered in plastic wrap, she reached in to grab the bottle of oolong tea instead, unscrewing the cap and guzzling down its contents. Placing it back in the fridge, she closed it and went to the cupboards, pulling out a can of wasabi peas and a bag snap pea crisps.
Running back up to her room, she stopped in front of Naraku's door. It was slightly ajar and she could smell his sensual musk. Feeling disgusted, she yanked the door shut and proceeded to her room, slamming the door behind her. Turning on the small TV, she plopped down on her bed and began snacking, letting herself be whisked away into a fantasy world of demons and a miko who safeguarded a holy relic that could destroy the world. Hours slipped by and she didn't even notice the change in program, several times over, or the opening and closing of the front door.
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Naraku sighed. After a long day at the office, he wished that at least his beautiful step-daughter would come welcome him home. Slipping off his shoes and hanging up his trench coat beside Kagome's uniform peacoat, he trudged tiredly into his study just off the livingroom and set down his suitcase. He slid off his tailored suit jacket and loosened his blood-red tie. Work had been exhausting to say the least, and he felt as if the weight of the world on his shoulders instantly evaporated every time he came home. To Kagome… Booting up his computer, he strode out of the room to the kitchen, frowning at seeing his note still on the fridge door. Opening the fridge, he saw Kagome's dinner was untouched.
'Willful girl… She'll make herself sick.' He grabbed the wrapped dish, as well as the one for himself, his hands mechanically placing each plate into the microwave in turn. Setting the steaming plates on the kitchen table, he brought out two napkins and two sets of silverware. He filled one glass with red wine, the other he poured mineral water. As an afterthought, he lit the candles on a scarcely-used candelabra and placed it at the center of the table, relishing in the natural candle light. Taking the stairs one by one, he first stopped in front of his own room, noticing the once open door was now firmly shut, then went to knock on Kagome's door.
"Kagome?"
He was met with silence. He knocked again, a little louder this time. Still no response. A pang of fear took hold of him. What if she'd hit her head? Rattling the doorknob, he called to her again, this time raising his voice just a little.
"Kagome? Are you alright?"
Again, nothing. An unbidden memory of his deceased wife's cold hand as it held the empty bottle of pills flashed in his mind. 'No!' He banged on the door, a little panicked, and to his relief he heard her stirring at last. Uncoordinated footfalls, the sound of her bumping into something, a hushed curse, and then the door unlocked and was cracked open. She looked as if she'd just been sleeping, the scent of her breath spicy and feminine. Her face was just inches from his, since he'd been about to burst through the door. 'I want to kiss her,' the thought abruptly popped into his head, but he quickly shoved it to the back of his mind where it belonged.
"Dinner's ready," he said as calmly as he could, holding himself back from pulling her into his embrace, opting to turn and go back downstairs. With practiced control, he forced his growing hardness to retract, choosing instead to concentrate on his empty stomach. Sitting down, he elegantly swirled his wine, lowering his nose to inhale the rich bouquet. Taking a sip, he held it in his mouth for a moment, mulling over each singular note before letting it slide down his throat. He heard a door shut upstairs, then the soft, muted footsteps of Kagome's covered feet as she ambled over to the table.
Looking at him pointedly, arching her brow as if to challenge, 'What's all this?' She pulled out her chair and unceremoniously dropped into her seat. "Itadakimasu," she whispered, clapping her hands together and reached for her fork. Naraku watched her from his seat at the head of the table, eyeing her as she blatantly ignored him while she ate. He couldn't help but swallow every time she raised a forkful of bolognese to her mouth, the sight of her licking the red sauce from her lips, then darting back into her mouth captivated him. His hunger had shifted from something banal to something visceral, carnal.
She'd finished, already having taken her plate to the sink, the sound of rushing water as she rinsed it bringing him out of his daze. As she moved to go back to her room, his hand reached out and wrapped around her wrist, making her flinch. Lifting her hand to his lips, he kissed the center of her palm, hearing the soft gasp behind him. Keeping her hand prisoner, he rested it against his shoulder. He sensed that she was trying to stand as far away from him as possible, his grasp forcing her to bend forward slightly, her unbound hair brushing against his cheek. Still, he tried to maintain some semblance of normalcy.
"How was your day," he asked softly, so softly that his words almost felt like a caress. She stiffened the same time she felt her knees grow weak. The low, sensual timbre of his voice buffeted against her carefully erected defenses. She felt the tell-tale liquid heat pool between her legs, making her thighs clench together. Her position nearly forced her to bend towards him, his heady scent washing over her as she shuddered with traitorous desire. 'I have to get away from him!' Her mind screamed at her to move as her body remained rooted to the spot. Swallowing, her throat suddenly parched, she uttered a flimsy, "Okay... Yours?" It sounded fake even to her, almost flinching at her breathy tone that she prayed didn't give away just how he was making her feel. What his voice and close proximity was doing to her…
"Did you see my note on the fridge?" It was more of an accusation than a question. 'Dammit, just let me go… Please...' She begged silently, her hand still clasped in his. His thumb was stroking her palm where his kiss still burned. Her eyes closed at the sensations it radiated down to her stomach, as if he were stroking somewhere much, much lower. 'Stop it!' Her inner voice chastising, her panic rising. A deep rumble reverberated against their joined hands. He slowly turned in his seat, his hypnotic, auburn eyes causing her heart to skip a beat as they plunged into hers. It wasn't supposed to be like this. He wasn't supposed to make her feel this way. She wasn't supposed to allow him to make her feel the things she did. Make her do things without even realizing it. Tears pricked her eyes, but she held them in.
"Kagome?" She heard him stand, scooting in his chair as he gathered her into his arms. Innocent enough. He was just trying to offer comfort to the daughter of his deceased wife. Nothing more. 'Nothing more...' She thought as she felt a rogue tear escape. A warm thumb caught it, wiping it away, then sliding down to her chin to tilt her face up to meet his concerned stare. Lips trembling, she couldn't look at him, turning her face away. She didn't want his concern. His other hand came up to stroke her hair. It tucked a section of hair behind her ear. "What's wrong?" He practically purred into her ear, eliciting a shiver. He cupped her face in his hands, trying to force her to look at him. Why couldn't he be cold to her? Get upset with her for being such a frigid bitch!
"Please… Stop..." she pleaded weakly. His auburn orbs searched hers, as if he could find the answers he wanted there. "Stop what? Kagome, talk to me," now he was pleading. It didn't make sense. He should have thrown her out when her mother died. He could have been free, then. She shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut to block out his devastatingly handsome face. "Please," she whimpered, "let me go." He didn't. His arms actually pulled her in flush against him, forcing her to feel every hard plane of his body. One hand cupped the back of her head and pressed her face into his chest. Her defenses were growing weaker as she was blanketed in his warmth. "Shh..." he soothed, "you know I can't do that, Kagome..." His admission caught her attention and she lifted her gaze to meet his, only to have her heart break for him at the pain in his eyes.
"I'm moving out after graduation. I'll find a job and go to a university somewhere far aw-"
His lips' sudden pressure against her own stifled the words she knew would hurt him. Her gasp only allowed him inside, deeper. Pleasure and shock coursed through her, making her core burn for him more than ever. 'No!' Her conscience screamed as he tilted her head back only to plunge his hot, wet tongue deeper into her mouth. Twining around hers, beckoning it to writhe against him. She heard him moan. It sent another wave through her. Her fingers curled into his dress shirt, clenching tightly as if she were trying to hold on for dear life.
'I can't stop… I have to stop...' He was devouring her, drowning her in the passion and desire he'd kept locked up since she was sixteen and his only ally against the cruel world. The only other being on earth who understood his pain. He felt her tiny fingers curling tightly into his shirt, surely wrinkling it. He didn't care. He could only relish the feel of her curves against him, the exquisite taste of her tongue twisting around his. He wanted more, so much more. He felt as if he were a starving man with a feast laid out before him. He heard her whimpers, her sighs. He could feel the fluttering of her heartbeat against his searching fingers as they stroked up and down her neck. He was drowning in her scent, amplified by her arousal. He felt himself begin to harden in warning. If he didn't stop now, he might end up taking her right there in the kitchen.
Breaking the kiss, he pulled away from her a little. The sight of her flushed cheeks and swollen lips made him groan. "Kagome..." He brought up one hand to brush her temple. She opened her eyes, realization starting to dawn in those sapphire-like eyes. Meeting his loving gaze, her lips parted as a whirl of emotions flashed across her porcelain features. At last she found her voice, "You… You kissed me," she hissed as she tried to shove him away. His hold tightened, keeping her captive as she fought to get out of his embrace. Where there had been traces of elation and relief moments before, they were now replaced by sadness. She stilled when she couldn't break free, glaring up at him, "Let. Me. Go."
He met her fierce glare head on, "No." Kagome scoffed, "Get your hands off me!" Shaking his head, he said dispassionately, "It's already done, Kagome. We can't go back to 'playing house' now." "Yeah?! And who's fault is that?!" She threw the words in his face. Then a new revelation dawned, making her lips curl in disgust, "You… You knew..." She searched his pained stare, seemingly finding her answer. "You knew. Oh my god, you knew," her voice shattered into panicked sobs. Her whole world had just been obliterated. She thought she'd kept her blossoming attraction for him a carefully guarded secret, making sure he never caught on. Or so she thought…
"Kagome," he pleaded, "Kagome please, calm down," he soothed as his hands rubbed circles on her back. "No, NO, I won't calm down!" Her head was reeling with all the mistakenly innocent looks, casual caresses… He had known all along of her deceitful lust. Was that why he had kissed her? He couldn't be bothered to find a woman and she was the next best thing? "Kagome, Kagome," he said as he kissed her forehead, "calm down and tell me. Tell me what you think I know?" In between sniffles and whimpers she stuttered out, "N-no, p-please, d-d-don't m-make me say it." He let out a heavy sigh, then took her by the hand and led her to the living room.
"Sit," his hands gently pushed down on her shoulders so that she sat down in the overstuffed chair. Going over to the liquor cabinet by the TV, he took out a crystal decanter half-filled with dark amber liquid. Taking out two short ornate glasses, he poured them both a third of the glass. Handing it to her, she sniffed it hesitantly. "What is it?" Knocking it back in one go, he returned to pour himself another glass. "Brandy," he answered, his voice husky. Sipping her drink, she watched him as he sat on the chair adjacent from her. Swirling his glass, he didn't look at her. "Kagome..." his gaze lifted to meet hers, "I loved your mother." His words held a bitterness to them. "But she never loved me..." He abruptly got up from his chair. "I know this...development...is..." he shot her a look of tortured desire. "...It is not proper..."
Looking down at her imploringly, he set down his glass and knelt in front of her, placing his large hand over her knee. "Whatever it was you think I know… Please," his fingers stroked her knee fervently, "know that this was not your fault..." He swallowed loudly, "Tell me, sweet Kagome," he gave her a tender smile, imploring, "please tell me you feel something other than fatherly affection for me?" He came closer, now on both knees as he lifted both arms to cradle her face in his hands. Her eyelids closed at his touch, a sigh escaping her. When she opened her eyes once more, he saw determination and strength there. "I..." she faltered. "I felt it, when you kissed me. That you love me with every ounce of your being," she said passionately. "Not the way a father loves a daughter, but," she clamped shut, unable to utter the words.
"The way a man loves a woman," he finished for her, understanding how hard this must be for her. One hand slid down her cheek, his thumb brushing her bottom lip, his gaze transfixed by her mouth. "I do, Kagome," he said, looking up at her once more, "I love you as a man loves his woman." Her gasp caressed him, making him smile now in earnest. "I want you as a man wants his woman," he took her glass and set it on the side table, then in a darker, lusty voice, "I ache for you, Kagome..." He climbed halfway into her chair, caging her with his body. "As a man aches for his woman," he grasped behind her head gently as he brought his mouth down once again to taste her. To ravish her with his kiss. It spoke to her of all the things he felt for her, all the things he longed to do with her, if only she would accept him.
Becoming lost in his brandy-laced kisses that were steadily making her more and more addicted, she moaned against his greedy mouth. The faintly sweet, stinging taste of the alcohol lingering on their eager tongues. He moaned in return, thoroughly relishing her this time. She was pliant, willing and oh so deliciously responsive to his touch. "I want to be your woman," she whispered. "I've wanted this for so long..." "Yes..." he murmured salaciously, "as have I." Genuinely surprised, she asked, "Since when?" He nipped the tender flesh at the nape of her neck, feeling her shiver beneath him. "Your sixteenth birthday," he said breathlessly, continuing to play and suck on her reddening flesh. "Why then?" Her question stilled him for a moment. "You were so beautiful that day, wearing the dress I bought you as your friends showered you with compliments. The way you smiled at me and threw yourself into my arms without a second thought, even though I'd just stood there frozen, gaping at you like a lovesick schoolboy," he chuckled with embarrassment. "I couldn't even speak, do you remember?" He felt her nod.
"Mhm," she murmured, her breath tickling his hair. She was in heaven. When was the last time they had both felt so happy? But those times belonged to another time, when she still believed Naraku was her mother's love; filling the hole her father had left in her heart. They could never go back to those sweet, innocent times, she knew. Now was the beginning of their story, her mother had left them behind to be with the one she truly loved. Smelling him, feeling the weight of his body pressed to hers, basking in his warmth, she felt at peace. But there was still that niggling guilt at the back of her consciousness that made her hesitate. He said he loved her, desired her, but could she trust his feelings? How would they proceed with their relationship?
"What are you thinking, love?" His velvety baritone caused another rush of desire to run through her, but it was tainted by fear. "W-what are we going to do now?" She heard him chuckle, "Well, I have a few ideas..." Scoffing, she playfully hit him on the shoulder. He lifted his head, his eyes meeting hers. He saw fear and doubt clouding her pretty smile. Handing her her abandoned brandy glass, she took it and sipped it slowly. The thickly sweet liquid burned all the way down, but it helped calm her. He stood and reached for his own glass, drained it, then poured himself another. He was usually a man who was confident in everything he did. It's what made him rise through the ranks at his office. It's what won over Kagome's mother and all the women before her. But Kagome… Kagome had placed a spell on him that even he hadn't noticed until it was too late. He'd already fallen for her guileless charms.
"I… I-I think we should wait...for...you know..." she blushed scarlet, trailing off into a whisper and looking shyly away from him. Nodding, he took another swig, humming in approval, "Hmm...yes, I think that would be for the best." She looked back up at him. "For now," he said with a tone of finality as he set down his glass and stretched out his hand to her. Smiling wearily and trying to stifle a yawn, she took his hand and let him lead her upstairs. Stopping in front of her door, she started to open it, then turned around to say goodnight. Instead, his mouth descended on hers, causing a series of sinful sensations. Now she didn't want to him to go. Unable to voice it, she drove her tongue in to his mouth, pressing her breasts against his chest. Her nipples hardened, becoming sensitive to an almost painful degree. His hand snaked up the curve of her neck and in to her hair, taking fistfuls of her wavy, raven locks.
'She's not ready. I have to stop this.' Stroking her hair, he ended the kiss on a softer, more tender note. Lifting his face away from hers, he smiled sweetly. "Good night, Kagome," his voice low and even. "Good night… Naraku," she sighed, wistfully, then closed the door behind her. This time, she didn't lock it like she normally did. This time, she was hopeful that he would come to her. Slipping into her en suite bathroom, she got ready for bed. When she at last settled beneath the covers, she felt calmer and more at peace than she had in a very, very long time. Soon, she had fallen into a dreamless slumber.
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Naraku sat in his office chair, the blue light of his computer screen illuminating only his face. The rest of the office was pitch dark, the door tightly shut and locked. The only noise in the room were the sounds of his harsh, erratic breaths and the slick, wet rustling of his fervent ministrations. His hand wrapped around his increasingly throbbing member as he mercilessly pumped the rigid shaft, while watching the home video of Kagome's sixteenth birthday party. He'd filmed the event, unknowingly only capturing the image his step-daughter, the entire video focused on her. 'Fuck! She's so beautiful… And now she's mine...' As the video ended, his eyes closed as his head tilted back. His loins were on fire because of her! Unable to control himself, his hips began to rock of their own accord, driving his thick length into his clenched fist. 'FUCK!' As his orgasm ripped through him, his seed spurted all over the computer screen, covering the ever-frozen smile on Kagome's face.
As he gradually came down from his sexual high, his ragged breaths slowed. Cleaning up, he returned to his seat and shook the mouse, effectively waking up the screen. Checking his emails, his jaw tightened when he read the name of one sender he did not care to see. Hesitating a moment, he silently cursed before clicking on it.
A/N: Hello all! Welcome to my FIRST Naraku x Kagome pairing!
So, what did you think? Like it? Hate it? Neutral? I WANT TO HEAR FROM YOU : )
I actually wrote this a while back...maybe last year, I think. Due to how controversial this pairing is (isn't anybody with Naraku controversial?), and the nature of student/teacher (ahem! Touga!) relations, this is a little bit... I don't know **sigh** Anyways, I'm not sure if I want to continue writing this fic, but if there's enough readers out there who want more, I'll deliver ; )
As always, please make sure you follow this fic if you want to be alerted to any future updates! And if you're feeling magnanimous, I would love to read your review : D
~Yours Anonymous