Authorial Notice:
I'm not descriptive enough? Wow, you guys are perverts. But, okay! Message received. I have attempted to lower myself into the depths of depravity, just for you. :)
I am not kidding. This grew a mind of its own and went… places. Bad, bad places. It is not soft or cuddly in any way. Really, I might move it into the HichiHime section. Possibly. Who knows?
()
Title: The Edge of Sin
Disclaimer: Yes, please.
Warnings: Kink, voyeurism, dominance, references to non-consensual sex, and most likely, typos. I did not hold back on this. Consider yourself warned.
()
She moaned. That was what stopped his futile struggling, his mindless shouting at his hollow from his inner world.
Ichigo sat gaping at the reflection that appeared in the window's surface. He could feel his face pulling into lines of complete blank shock as another shivery sigh slipped past her parted lips. How could she enjoy the things it was doing to her?
But she was. It was obvious, even to him.
It was roughly molesting her, possessively taking her mouth and charting out the unexplored territory of her body. And on some level, she was enjoying it.
He should turn away. Stop looking. He commanded himself to move as his fists clenched and he leaned his shoulder into the concrete wall.
There was just too much shock to move, too much fascination, too much envy to drag himself away from the glass and his bird's eye view of his hollow's activities.
Pervert! He railed at himself.
But he couldn't stop. He was held transfixed by that one little sound, by that one little sign that she wasn't actually going through hell. He grit his teeth as his hollow smirked, apparently very much aware of Ichigo's sudden silence. Then without warning, it jerked her shirt open, sending buttons flying and scattering.
Inoue gasped, eyes flying open.
The hollow didn't seem to notice as he pushed her roughly onto the bed, drinking in her helpless distress as she tried to right herself. Ichigo fought the urge to cry out, to demand his hollow give him back control. Yelling would be a useless gesture, one that it would probably enjoy.
He closed his eyes, swallowing thickly.
This was all his fault.
He wanted excuses, justifications, but there were none and he knew it. She had trusted him. There had been so much concern in her sweet face when she had opened that door. Then it pounced on her, while Ichigo shrieked and fought and even pleaded from the cage of his inner world. He had always known his hollow was a danger to the people closest to him, but he had never expected this.
He opened his eyes.
He felt them trace over the exposed lines of her throat, neck, shoulder, and finally lower, to the swell of her breasts that expanded with every breath, straining against the delicate lace of her bra.
He spat a curse, feeling himself respond, reacting to the sight of her body…Or was it his hollow reacting? He didn't know, but he could hardly breathe and he couldn't take his eyes off her. Damn it. She had curves. Curves where a woman was supposed to be curved.
His hollow moved over her, grinning and pleased. He pushed her skirt up and parted her trembling legs, grasping her inner thighs and forcing them wide, revealing soft cotton. Ichigo tensed almost painfully, expecting it to fall on her, to take her brutally, but it just sat back, considering her with a look of dark amusement.
This patient side was new. It wasn't something Ichigo had ever seen from his hollow. But of course it could be patient, it had all the time in the fucking world.
Ichigo slammed a fist on the window's sill, not caring that he cracked it. Mocking laughter resounded from the world around him.
Careful, King. That might be your home from now on. Hate to see you break it so quick.
"You fucking bastard! You're a coward going after her. If you want to fight me, I'm right here."
There was just enough pause to make him wonder if it had worked. Then a derisive snort.
Maybe later, I'm busy right now.
Ichigo whipped his head back to the image. It had her pinned beneath it, arms trapped over her head as it conquered her mouth, holding her to the bed with one hand on her ribcage. She whimpered and twisted under him and her knees came up, brushing against his hips, her body begging.
Ichigo shivered as he felt his hollow's lust flood into him, hot and thick. A sick weight settled in his stomach, even as he grew hard.
He was going to hell. No, this was hell.
He yelped registering sudden movement. The hollow sat back on his heels, jerking his belt to release the clasp and then tugging his jeans open. Ichigo swallowed, hands tightening on the sill as he glanced at Inoue's face to gauge her reaction. His mouth fell open, stunned by her look of unbridled curiosity and the sight of her body still moving, very slightly, writhing under the invisible touch of his gaze.
He groaned, letting his head thump back into the wall.
Unclothed the hollow watched her, giving his erection one leisurely stroke before crawling back up her figure, dragging his nails over her thighs, her stomach, her shoulders, leaving little red trails wherever they went. She gasped and panted, arch her body and uttering wordless pleas. Then it jerked her bra up, and Inoue cried out as his teeth grazed the underside of her breast before he licked and nipped his way to the top.
Holding his breath, Ichigo watched her face as the hollow darted his tongue out to taste the hardened pink nipple. Her eyes widen as a silent cry parted her lips, then they darkened, their light turning carnal. She sighed long and loud.
Ichigo felt his body strain at the sound, swollen and hard, impossible to ignore.
She inhaled sharply as he moved to the fabric covering her sex, his fingers pushing it away, brushing the soft skin of her lips before working their way inside. The hollow dropped his head to watch his fingers push into her, growling, appeased.
"So fucking tight."
Ichigo squeezed his eyes closed, leaned his forehead against the glass, groaned and forgot how to breathe.
Fine. He was a fucking pervert.
His hand slid down to the tie at his waist and he pulled it free without taking his eyes off Inoue.
He hesitated before brushing his painful hard on, but the gasp he heard wasn't his own. His hollow hissed in pleasure, momentarily losing focus on his own task.
Ichigo scraped his eyes over Orihime where she fidgeted against the invasion, reflexively riding his hand. The hollow smiled, pulling back and licking his fingers slowly, savoring the taste. His eyes traveled between her face, her breasts and her spread legs. He dug two fingers inside her, forcing them in as she squeaked, then relaxed, moaning and dropping her head back to the pillows. Then he withdrew them again, following the same pattern.
Ichigo was breathing fast, hard. He wrestled with himself one last time before he gave in completely. He wasn't kidding himself. He was hard-core into this. It was wrong, and he didn't have any excuses, but he was doing it anyway.
He panted as he watched the hollow withdraw, satisfied that she was ready for him. Then he hovered over her and Ichigo held his breath, both fearful and mesmerized as he took himself in hand and pushed in to her.
Ichigo grit his teeth as sensation shot through his body and he heard Inoue cry out. Guilt lanced him at the hint of her pain. He staggered before sliding down the ledge, boneless. The hollow had buried itself in one long smooth stroke. He banged his head against glass again, sickened, turned on.
The hollow held himself rigid above her, savoring the sensation of being inside her, before he pulled out, watching her shocked face as he slid back in, admiring the way her breasts moved with his pulse. Then he dug his knees into the bed, slid them up and thrust into her, hard enough that his hipbones hit hers and he groaned, almost a growl, as Orihime's strangled cry echoed off the walls. Then he pulled out and back in just as hard, having to hold her body down by the hips to keep it resistant against the force.
He fucked her. There was no other word for it. He plunged into her over and over again, violent and urgent, making low noises in his throat.
Her gasps and whimpers were like music, Ichigo let them guide his movements with their rhythm, bringing his hand up and around the tip, lightly dragging across his skin, squeezing almost painfully on the way down, experiencing the reactions from his other self as well, pushing him closer, goading him into tumult.
Without warning, the hollow pulled away and Ichigo couldn't hold back the frustrated twist of his mouth, mirrored in Orihime's whimper of disappointment. He grit his teeth as his counterpart smirked, all derisive mirth and proud arrogance, as he slid off the bed, dragging Orihime to him by the ankles until she hung off the side. Then he shoved back in, wrapping her legs around his waist and Ichigo could see her toes curl.
Her body jerked and her breasts bounced, pulled back and forth by his surges, but he didn't slow or relent. He was too absorbed by that point. Ichigo thought that even if she hadn't been panting and receptive, the hollow would have continued, wrestling her down if he had to, just wanting to own her body and take it and use her until he had his fill, and soaked her in his release.
Ichigo tried not to think about it, but he could feel his erection twitch, agitated against his palm, encouraged by his perverse deliberation.
The hollow growled, hissing curses and commands, speaking words Ichigo couldn't hear, voice low as he pounded ceaselessly into her. Whatever he said, she responded, her noises changing, becoming urgent and fevered. She was squeezing her thighs tight enough to leave marks on his sides as he shifted, taking her harder and faster, the bed thumping the wall in time to their furious movements. Ichigo could see the muscles flexing in his back as he arched against her, not bothering to hold back the sounds of his gratification.
Ichigo felt moisture leak from the tip of his erection and groaned as it slipped under his palm, lubricating his harsh jerks and tugs. So close. He was trembling with the force of it.
The hollow dug his toes into the carpet, leveraging for traction, slinging one leg over his shoulder and using it to hold her to him, losing any rhythm in a frenzy of need. His fingers dug into her thighs and her cries filled the air as the bed banged loudly. She was gasping, riding the waves of feeling as he thrust deep inside her, stilling for just a second then groaning loudly as hard muscles tensed then relaxed.
Ichigo felt his body release in the same instant. He trembled, hissing and gritting his teeth, failing to hold back a choked sob in the back of his throat as he watched the hollow come inside her, pressing as far in as he could, pulling out, then pressing back in again and again, until he was empty and spent.
Panting, Ichigo watched the hollow shift her limp body back up the bed before he was catapulted out of his inner world, shot to the surface and back into his own body, rapidly blinking his eyes.
The hell?
Then fatigue hit him and his muscles shook, feeble and weak, trying not to crush Inoue as he fell beside her.
Inoue.
Was she hurt? Stupid. Of course, she was.
He forced himself to his knees, ignoring the protest of aching muscle as he grabbed her arms lifting and inspecting, cataloging every bruise and scratch over the surface of her body and vowing to pay it back.
"Again?"
His fingers stilled on her inner thigh as he lifted his gaze to meet sleepy grey eyes. She smiled, exhausted and he could see her pulse beating in the delicate chords of her throat.
Then she blinked, focusing.
"Oh, you're back. That's good."
He gawked at her.
"I was worried that it would be hard for you to get back."
Ichigo shook his head, incredulous.
"Worried? You should have been fucking terrified. He—"
She giggled. "Kurosaki-kun wouldn't hurt me."
She said it so certainly that he was lost for a response, feeling the need to crawl away and hide from the overwhelming faith shining in her eyes.
He swallowed.
Orihime fought heavy eyelids as sleep lured her. "Will you stay?"
Remorse tugged at the corners of his mind, and he wouldn't have denied her anything she had asked in that moment.
He lay down alongside her, pulling a cover over her tired form and after everything, he was shocked to feel her arm drape across his chest. Letting his head fall back, he pulled her closer, relishing her soft body pressed against his harder one. And eventually, he fell asleep, listening to her peaceful breathing and content just to hold her.
A/N
Well? Was that naughty enough for you?
Going back over this, I'm kind of embarrassed to have written it.
