Lecherous Liaison
By Sarga
Description: Miroku is tantalized by the sight of Sango's flesh. Heaven is almost within reach...
A/N: Written for the LJ community iy_fanfiction, week 7: Kimono
Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha, nor do I make any money from this fic.
I am the breath that is stolen from your very lips at the sight of her...
Sango stood at the edge of her futon, unaware of the crack in the wall dividing her room from the monk's. His hidden eyes watched hungrily, the innocence of the initial discovery irrevocably tainted by his continued perusal of her during her preparation for slumber.
I am the heartbeat that is quickened by the sight of tongue on lips...
Wetting dry lips, Sango lowered herself to her knees and onto the futon below, preparing for much-needed sleep. What the monk wouldn't do to be those lips, to feel the delicate flick of that tiny pink appendage. His sigh was lost to the sounds of the night.
I am the caress that is denied to you, your sealed hand twitching with longing...
With slow motions, the slayer presented an unwittingly clear picture to the monk as she turned her body, unknowingly preserving her own dignity from his lecherous gaze. With her body dressed in a mere single layer of cloth, the monk could pick out the subtle undulations of muscle beneath, a tantalizing tease of what lay beneath it – what should have lain beneath him...
I am the kimono that inches lower, lower until all you can see is the skin of her back...
Etched, scarred, the surface of Sango's skin was like an uncharted map – a map whose territory the monk would give anything to conquer. He would give anything to be the only one to travel that path no man had been granted access to, to wear that path down like a flash flood in rainy season.
I am the ache in your breast when her eyes swiftly catch your hand in motion...
The whisper of his hand on the paper-thin walls alerted her to his presence, and he froze, hoping the stillness would protect him from her wrath. Hastily donning her kimono once more, the demon slayer hoisted Hiraikotsu onto her shoulder, suspicious eyes following the sudden retreat of his hand as he flinched from the known retaliation.
I am the ache in your head when her hand is faster...
Faster than his eye could register, Hiraikotsu unerringly cut into the crack that had revealed her body, leaving the wall itself unmolested as it hit its goal. A small smile twinged on the monk's unconscious lips as he slumped to the floor. The tie of her kimono had loosened – he had won the consolation prize...
I am sweet, sweet... justice.
As always, please read and review!
Sarga