Author's note: I had already planned on writing Ukitake for this next chapter but I'm dedicating it to my good friend casey525 who was the first real friend I made through fanfic. Happy birthday (again) dear and I hope things get better for you!
Tsubahime and Mimiluvbug: Thank you both for continuing to read. I'm glad the first chapter was good enough to enjoy again!
ClimbingIvy22: Thank you so much! I appreciate the suggestions and if I decide to do a third series I'll definitely keep yours in mind!
Chestnutpoby: Thank you! I hope I've done Jushrio justice!
One Jack-o: Thank you so much for letting me know what you liked. I honestly kind of worried that I had Kensei changing too fast but it's hard in a one shot not to have to fast forward a bit, if you know what I mean. It'll be interesting to see what I can come with for Starrk because I've never written him before and even though these are all AUs I try to keep the characters tone recognizable. I'm so flattered that you've been reading my stuff for a long time and it's so nice to "meet" you on your account!
Five Lives, Five Loves Series 2
The Nobleman: Jushiro Ukitake
(Rated M, set loosely in a regency England)
The sound of carriage wheels rattling against the rough worn ground is all that Jushiro Ukitake heard as he made his way to the Inoue household. It was the day he was to meet his betrothed, a woman a few decades his junior. Despite the normal practice of such a thing, the middle age nobleman felt uneasy; he never thought his family would have stooped to this.
As the tree line broke to reveal green rolling hills and dales of the fellow noble family's property, Jushiro could feel his heart rate increase. It was undoubtedly foolish to make the journey himself but he had insisted that if he were the cause of uproot to the young woman the least he could do is have the decency to fetch her himself. The carriage rounded to the front of the homestead, a small cluster of people standing at attention, and center of them all stood a ravishingly lovely maiden.
With fiery copper locks hung loose about her shoulders, elegant even covered in multiple layers of cloth, she stood stalk still, head and eyes cast to the ground.
Upon the halt of his carriage, Jushiro gathered his walking stick, alighting through the door opened by his valet. His white tail coat suit gleamed brightly in the afternoon sun, creating a vision of other worldliness. But his smile was sincere, his eyes kind as he took in the sight; Inoue Orihime he could see was crying.
"Good day, Lord Ukitake," another woman offered with a curtsey, her mother he supposed by the look of her, though her eyes were harder than those of the girl who had finally cast him a fleeting glance before averting her eyes to the ground once more.
"Good day, Madame Inoue, Sir Inoue," the nobleman returned with a slight bow. He stepped forward once more, closing the distance between himself and his soon to be bride. Leaning forward in effort to catch her gaze he continued, "And this must be the lovely Lady Orihime, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."
For a moment, Orihime said nothing until her mother elbowed her rather roughly in the ribs. With a startled gasp she blurted out, "The pleasure is all mine, my lord."
Jushiro's smile faltered, sadness creeping into his expression. It was his last wish to cause anyone pain, least of all someone like Orihime but the arrangement was closed and neither of them could refuse.
He almost scoffed at the irony that he, a man in his latter forties, was being held to task by his own mother to marry a woman of her choosing. But the blending of the families would secure an alliance and increase the land count of both by a large margin. He, of course, knew his mother also desired offspring and since he was taking too long by her calculations to make a match of it, she'd taken away the right. Or rather, his father had, going along with whatever his mother wanted.
"I trust all is ready to go? My valet will assist in gathering any items prepared for the journey," Jushiro said and both parents nodded.
Just as the servants were about to begin loading a shout, male in tone, was heard from across the field. Jushiro turned, sighting a young man with hair as brightly colored as the Inoue's racing on a black horse to their position. From behind he heard Orihime's father curse, the distinct sound of a drawn sword startling him.
"You insufferable imp!" shouted Sir Inoue, "You have no place here! Be gone, before I run you through and send your corpse back to your father!"
"Father no, please!" Orihime shouted, taking position between the two men, the younger having dismounted and drawn his own sword.
"Orihime, get out of the way!" he shouted but she would not move.
"Lady Inoue, come with me, come on! I'm not letting this bastard take you against your will!" the young man shouted grasping her wrist, eyes never leaving her father.
"Sir Kurosaki, please," Orihime begged, "I will not have you die for my sake! I am fine!"
"You're nothing of the sort, m'lady," Sir Kurosaki urged.
"My dear young sire," Jushiro interjected, the blade of his sword resting lightly against the young man's throat, "Perhaps you should state your grievance with more tact in order to avoid bloodshed?"
Kurosaki cast a glance to the older man's face, his chest heaving in the torment of his emotions. Releasing Orihime's wrist, he stepped back, but quick as a whip he jumped, slashing with his own sword to catch that of Jushiro's. Immediately, his attendants drew their own weapons but the white-haired male forestalled their attack with a sharp, "Leave him be!" yet he kept his own sword trained before him. "What is it you want?"
"What do I want?" hollered Kurosaki, "I want Lady Inoue free to make her own choices! This isn't what she wants!"
"And how would you know that?" Jushiro inquired.
"Because she's in love with someone else! She won't tell me who, because she's too proper, but that doesn't matter! What matters is for her to be free to be with who she wants!"
"Ichigo." Jushiro heard the name but the young man did not and in that one word he knew all. These two, so young and naïve, loved each other. It was plain to see it upon both their faces but he hazarded they'd never taken the time to look at each other long enough to discover the truth.
"Noble as your intentions may be, this is not a matter up for discussion," Jushiro asserted calmly. "This arrangement is final. You are too late to stop this. Lady Inoue is to leave with me, her intended."
"You?!" scoffed Kurosaki, "What business does an old man like you have marrying a woman young enough to be his daughter?!"
"Sir Kurosaki, please!" Orihime shouted, standing tears in her eyes. "This…this is done. I can't…I won't make you a fugitive of the law by leaving with you. Please…please let me go." This last was said barely above a whisper, her heart breaking more and more with each word.
Ichigo stared at her, then hardened his gaze back to Jushiro. "I challenge you to a duel. If I win, Lady Inoue remains at home to love who she will. If I lose, she will go with you."
"You have no right- "Orihime's father bellowed but Jushiro held up a hand.
"I accept your challenge, prepare yourself."
Smirking with confidence born of young and arrogance, Ichigo readied his stance, Jushiro doing the same. Above the clouds had gathered, a dull mist beginning to fall as the two males circled one another. To the side, Orihime clutched her hands to her ample bosom which was heaving under the exertion of her emotions.
Surging forward, Ichigo made first contact with Jushiro's sword, the clang of metal appearing to be the to release the heavens as they poured upon the fighters and their spectators.
Swords slashed back and forth, Jushiro surprising Ichigo very much with his skill but the young man had a natural talent coupled with years and years of practice. A quick flick of Jushiro's wrist had his blade catching Ichigo's forearm but the young man barely flinched, used to being cut multiple times.
Traction was becoming a problem for both duelists but neither were letting up, in fact, Jushiro was getting faster and faster. Soon it became apparent who the master swordsman really was. With one final jab and slash, Jushiro unarmed his opponent, sword tip pointed directly above Ichigo's heart.
A strangled cry left Orihime's lips, her body moving before she could stop herself. Falling to her knees, she clutched muddy hands to Jushiro's tail coat. "Please," she beseeched, "please don't kill him. I'm willing, I'll go, just let him live."
Looking down at her crumpled form, Jushiro sighed heavily as he sheathed his sword. Kneeling, he tipped her face up to look into his own. "I am no monster, I had no intention of killing him." Standing once more, he turned to face the young man prone on the ground. "You fought well, given a few more years you could have undoubtedly beaten me. Go home and take care of your father and sisters. I know it is futile to say, but trust that I have every intention of taking excellent care of this woman."
Ichigo's face was filled with fury but there was nothing more he could do. His own terms had been met, he'd been beaten. Looking at Orihime, his eyes softened marginally as he whispered, "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you, Lady Inoue."
Done with propriety, Orihime surged forward, throwing her arms around his neck and sobbing out, "You don't have to, not anymore. I'll be ok. But I will remain thankful for your care and friendship."
Ichigo clutched her tightly, holding back the sobs he wanted to let go of. He didn't care if he did have a one-sided love for her, all he ever wanted was to see her happy. But even that wasn't possible.
"I should have you tried for obstruction and attempted murder! How dare you attack his lordship!" shouted one of the attendants.
"Sentaro," Jushiro scolded, "we are done here. Finish preparing for our departure." Looking back at the young pair still on the ground, he stepped forward, gently extracting Orihime before reaching out his hand to his former opponent. Ichigo stared at him, grunting as he got himself up without assistance from the nobleman. With one last look at the woman he loved, Ichigo walked to his horse, mounting and took off without another look back, knowing if he did, he just might do something even more stupid.
A while later found Jushiro and Orihime in his carriage, the sun long set since their departure had been forestalled by the need of their getting cleaned up and changed. The ride was silent save for some sniffles from Orihime as she stared out the window at the passing scenery. Jushiro opted not to force her to speak, she'd been through enough and he wanted her to rest. Though the stillness of their journey was shatter by one of his violent coughing fits.
Orihime turned startled eyes to him. "Are you alright my lord?"
"It's nothing, my dear," he replied through his kerchief, "Just a bit of strain because of that tussle with your friend."
His bride to be frowned, concerned when she saw spots of blood tucked away as Jushiro folded the kerchief and put it back in his jacket. He said nothing more of the matter so she did not pry.
When they finally reached his estate, there was much bustling about to get the two of them situated in the dining room for dinner, late because of their tardy arrival. When his mother inquired as to the reason for such an occurrence he did not elaborate on what transpired, forgoing Orihime's need to relive it any more than she already was in her own head.
After their meal, the soon to be wed couple retired to separate bedrooms, Orihime laying down and promptly bursting into tears.
A week later, the wedding transpired, a grand affair filled with lords and ladies from across the land. There was much feasting and dancing, though the bride and groom remained mostly seated. Jushiro's mother was about to throw a fit but when he insisted it was because of his illness she refrained, though she continually cast unkind glances to her new daughter-in-law who sat quietly trying to control her tears.
"The least she could do is smile! The nerve of her to be so downcast, and at her own wedding!" groused Madame Ukitake.
"Now dear, leave the poor thing alone, I'm sure this is a lot to take in," her husband admonished softly, kind eyes fliting to the girl.
At the end of the festivities, when ensconced in their private bed chambers, Orihime sat upon the bed shaking like a leaf; she was terrified of what she had to do. But Jushiro, in his infinite kindness and patience, patted her hand gently.
"Dearest," he began, the term of endearment falling from his mouth easily, "I do not want you to worry. Tonight, and every night from now forth, we will only do what you are comfortable with. I have no interest in copulating with someone who is unwilling."
His words brought heat to her cheeks, her eyes falling to clenched hands among the folds of her beautiful gown. Tilting her head back up, Jushiro smiled warmly. "Will you allow me to help you out of your dress or would you prefer your handmaiden to be given the task?"
Blushing further, Orihime couldn't find her voice. Or rather, she was holding in the compulsion to protest all of it. She wanted to go home, she wanted to be back in her own room, to be with her friends, to see Sir Kurosaki once more. Blinking released tears and she could no longer hold back the sobs which had been tearing at her chest the entirety of the day.
Answer enough, Jushiro stood and rang a bell. Not two minutes later, a dark haired, violet eyed young woman entered, startled by the state of her new mistress.
"Rukia, please attend to my wife's needs. She requires help disrobing and I think a hot bath is in order," Jushiro ordered though his tone was genial.
"And what of you my lord?" the new comer inquired.
"I am fine. For tonight, I shall sleep in my former chambers."
Without another word, the nobleman left the room, shutting the door quietly. From behind it he heard Rukia shuffle Orihime into the adjoined bathroom and sighed. He could tell this was going to be a long process of adjustment for his young wife but he would endure it.
In the confines of the immaculate bathroom, Rukia expertly undid the buttons, hooks and ties of Orihime's gown, taking the time to hang it up properly as the water filled in the tub. Her mistress was already settling into it, skin turning pink from its heat, by the time she returned. Staring into space, Orihime made no move to wash herself, merely sitting with vacant eyes from which tears still ran in silent rivers.
Forgetting her station momentarily, Rukia stamped her foot and admonished, "You really should consider yourself fortunate!"
Orihime started violently, wide eyes looking at her maid.
Rukia went on, "Lord Ukitake is one of the most wonderful and respected nobleman in the country. You do realize he has every right to have you as he sees fit and he's giving it up, all for your comfort?"
Orihime nodded. "Yes," her small voice choked out, "I know."
The brunette nodded sharply once. "Good, take care you don't take advantage of his kindness. He deserves a wife who understands his value. I'm not one for the norm, if you can't tell," this last earned her a small smile from Orihime, "But I do know a good man when I see one. I've been with the Ukitake's since I was a young girl abandoned on their door step. They've been good to me, all of them, but none as good as your husband."
The red head hung her head in shame; she'd been awful to Jushiro when he'd shown her nothing but kindness and patience.
As Rukia finished assisting her to dry, Orihime requested, cheeks flamed red, "Rukia, could you please ask Lord Ukitake to join me here?"
Smiling, Rukia nodded, taking with her the wet towels and hurrying to her lordship's chambers.
Left to herself, Orihime finished the task of preparing for bed, standing near the fire place as she waited for Jushiro to return. He entered not five minutes later, clothed in his dressing gown, night clothes presumably beneath.
"You wanted to see me dearest?" he inquired, shutting the door.
Swallowing her fear, Orihime opened her mouth, barely managing to whisper, "My lord, I wanted to apologize for my behavior. You've been nothing but good to me and I've been behaving like a sniveling spoiled child." She curtsied very low, head bowed. "Please forgive me for my rudeness."
Taken aback for a moment, Jushiro just started at her before chuckling lightly. "Please, do not fret. I understand."
Rising, Orihime met his eyes and smiled. Though small and still holding some sadness, it was the most genuine she'd given him since they met and he cherished it. Looking to the bed, her face betraying her embarrassment, Orihime offered, "If it pleases my lord, would you care to sleep in one bed?"
Finding a faint flush beginning on his own cheeks, Jushiro nodded once in agreement, relinquishing the knot of his robe to remove and hang in on a hook. As he did so, Orihime made her way to the bed, pulling the covers back and jumping within their safety. Her husband smiled at her antics, glad to see she was at least willing to allow him to stay with her in the same room. He'd rather not think what would have happened had his mother discovered they'd not lain together their first night. At least this way there was the pretense of solidifying their union.
Reaching the bed, Jushiro climbed in, tucking his feet snuggly before drawing the covers to his chest and under his arm. He remained on his side, letting out a contented sigh as he closed his eyes.
In the middle of the night, Orihime was jarred awake by violent retching coming from the bathroom. Forgetting her state of semi-dress, she hurried towards the sound, horrified to find Jushiro collapsed on the ground, blood splattered against the cream tile floor and his body shaking. Stooping, she gathered his hair, some of which had ended up stained as well, and grabbed a towel to help clean his face. He sat back, leaning against the edge of the tub, his eyes watering.
Without a word, Orihime settled him as best she could before standing to turn on the taps, clean water rushing into the tub. She bustled to the vanity, gathering a clean wash cloth, soap and shampoo. With surprising composure, she divested Jushiro of his clothing, wrecked beyond repair she feared as her eyes took in the stains, and managed to settle him in the water before turning the taps back off.
Gently, she scrubbed the blood from his hands and hair, cheeks faintly crimson but determination in her eyes.
"Dearest, you need not trouble yourself," Jushiro finally managed to protest, coming out of his sick haze.
"Of course I shall, you need help," she said simply. "Now, not another word, just rest."
Tickled by her somewhat brusque manner, Jushiro closed his eyes, allowing himself to enjoy the feel of her hands. He'd never been touched like this before by any woman and though her actions were of care not passion, he could not stem the sudden rush of adrenaline coursing through his blood when the realization that she was touching his naked flesh came to the forefront of his consciousness. He'd been so miserable prior that all thought of what was happening and with whom had flown from his mind. But now, as her nimble fingers flexed over taught muscles, their connected nerves were singing a melody born of want and need.
He groaned in frustration which she mistook for pain. "I'm so sorry, did I hurt you?"
"No! No, you…you're wonderful." His voice was almost a whine, his tone confusing her but she went on, finishing his hair and squeezing it out.
"There, now, are you able to stand on your own or shall I send for your valet?" she inquired meekly.
"I am fine now, dearest, thank you for your help," he replied softly.
Nodding her head, Orihime stood only to find the front of her nightgown stained and soaked, which was of course the exact moment Jushiro turned to look up at her. The thin cotton was unable to fully conceal her ample curves, rose pink nipples visible due to the dampness of the material.
Jushiro swallowed thickly, his voice caught in his throat as he took in her loveliness. Even afflicted by his own blood, she was a vision and he could feel his length firming rapidly the longer he stared. He knew he should look away, should grant her the decency of embarrassment but he could not tear his eyes away from her figure.
With a squeak, Orihime fled the bathroom, hands clutched over her bosom while behind she left her husband, naked in a rapidly cooling bath with his blood positively on fire.
Time passed, in slow days and fast, each filled with Jushiro's numerous responsibilities all resulting from being the eldest son of the family. Orihime settled into her own routine, helping where she could and all the while taking care of her illness afflicted husband. They grew more comfortable with each other, often spending their evenings either in the study reading by the fire or in the bedroom where Jushiro finished personal correspondence and Orihime her needlework.
She and Rukia's relationship had morphed into a semblance of friendship more than of servant and mistress and for that Jushiro was very thankful. Rukia's spunk gave Orihime a spark that had been missing ever since she arrived at his estate and to see her smiling and laughing, even teasing brought him immense joy. Each day he fell a little bit more in love with her and could only hope that she returned even a fraction of the affection he felt for her in his heart.
True, he'd never forgotten the fleeting glimpse of her sensuous body but it was not just that he craved. He longed for true intimacy with his wife, never fully understanding that need until marrying Orihime. But he stayed true to his promise, always allowing her to initiate each forward step in their physical relations.
Over the months since their wedding, Orihime had grown used to Jushiro's arms wrapped around her as she slept, the feel of his breath against her neck comforting in its warmth. They'd shared chaste pecks against one another's cheeks and every so often he would "steal" one from her lips.
"My lady," Rukia began one evening as a spring rain began to fall, "have you given more thought to what we discussed?"
Orihime felt a flame erupt over her face, averting her eyes to the fire place as her hands stilled their work only to grip it tightly in her agitation. "I have, and…I agree. I'm just," she ended with a sigh, finally raising her head to look her friend in the eye. "I'm terrified," she confessed.
"Why?" Rukia asked sitting on the ground near the hearth, her attention fixated on Orihime.
"Because…because I've never lain with a man! If I ever even gave it thought it was always with- "she cut off abruptly, tenseness in her throat.
Leaning forward, Rukia placed a reassuring hand on her knee which Orihime clutched like a life line. "I understand, believe me. You love someone else, that doesn't go away just because you were forced to marry." She took a deep breath before continuing, "But Lord Ukitake is deserving of your love, whatever amount of it you have left over to give."
Patting her hand twice, Rukia stood, extracting the needlework and leading Orihime to the bathroom to get ready for bed.
The next evening Orihime decided it was time to stop making Jushiro wait for what was rightfully his. Though her heart beat in one-part terror she couldn't deny she felt a certain…excitement. This was completely uncharted territory, a gift and honor supposedly bestowed upon those fortunate enough to marry, though she knew it often did happen between those out of wedlock. She even had her suspicions that Rukia was a partaker of such carnal practices with a certain red headed horse trainer, but she never said a word; Rukia had shown her exceptional kindness and great care so if her hunch was right, she'd just leave them be. They deserved happiness just as much as she.
"Rukia," she began, voice a bit quivering, "do you…can you help me? I…I don't know how to do this."
Her maid looked at her for a moment then nodded once firmly. "Here," she said extracting a pale blue lace night dress, the color of which reminded Orihime of a perfectly clear sky, "This color will look amazing on you. As for what to do…perhaps simply tell his lordship of your desire? I trust he will be able to lead, as long as you are willing to let him."
Her mistress nodded, retreating to behind the dressing curtain to disrobe and put on the lingerie.
"My lord, her ladyship awaits you in your bedchambers," Rukia announce at Jushiro's elbow ten minutes later.
He started slightly, surprised Rukia would be bothering to tell him such a thing. Normally he just went to bed when he was ready so for her to be waiting for him seemed odd.
"Is she alright? She is not ill, I hope?" he inquired, worry furrowing his brow.
Rukia looked him in his eyes, the lines of their relational propriety having been blurred long ago. "No, my lord, she is…waiting."
As realization dawned, Jushiro felt a rush of heat flood his system; she was waiting…for him to come to her. When his eyes betrayed his understanding, Rukia smiled widely and nodded fervently. Her master barely suppressed a chuckle at her eager disposition on his behalf; should anyone have seen them they would have been criticized for their lack of decorum but he didn't care. Rukia had looked after him just as much as he did her and he valued her far above the placement of her station.
Standing he smiled down at her. "I have a feeling I have you to thank for this," he whispered and she blushed.
"My lord, I did no- "
He held up a hand to quell her protests. "Perhaps, Rukia, you would like the rest of the night off? In fact, why don't you take tomorrow off as well? Tell Renji to take you somewhere nice."
Rukia flushed from her head to her feet but Jushiro's gentle eyes and kind smile assured her. Bowing lowly, she thanked him and scurried to find her lover. This time Ukitake did release a low chuckle. "Ah, young love," he murmured. As he made his way to his wife he followed that sentiment with, "And new love."
Orihime was trembling, both from cold and fear. The cold was momentarily quelled by her robe but when Jushiro entered, she squeaked in surprise despite having expected his entrance. He closed the door, eyes never leaving hers.
"You wanted to see me dearest?" The question, the same asked on their first night together as husband and wife, brought color anew to Orihime's cheeks but she would not let herself back down from this. It was improper for a wife to withhold herself at all, let alone for the time she had from Jushiro.
"Yes, my lord," she replied, hands clasped firmly before her chest. "You…you have been so p-p-patient with me and I…I'm ready." Her hands slipped the knot of her robe, allowing the heavy fabric to fall open then away, revealing her lace covered body.
Jushiro's mouth went dry, his breathing labored slightly as he looked at her. The material was sinfully sheer, barely able to be called clothing. That, he supposed, was the point. A sudden shiver overtook his form, desire screaming like a banshee in his head and he had to close his eyes momentarily to stem his excitement. She was beyond beautiful, almost ethereal and he had to stop from pinching himself.
Opening his eyes once more, he took slow measured steps towards her, and with each foot of distanced closed, Orihime trembled more. By the time he reached her, she was almost sick from the tension in her body. Laying hands upon her shoulders, Jushiro felt the tremors. "Are you certain, this is what you want, dearest?"
"I…you…you deserve- "
"That is not what I asked you," he interjected firmly but with grace. Moving closer, his body centimeters from touching hers, he leaned his head down. "Tell me what you want, Orihime."
With a shuddering sigh, Orihime opened her mouth and whispered, "I want to be a good wife to you."
"You are a good wife to me," he insisted. Shaking his head, he took a deep breath. "You may well call me selfish for this, but I need to know you want this as much as I do. Or maybe if not as much, that you want it at all."
Orihime looked deep into his eyes, the first time she'd really allowed herself to and what she saw made her heart clench; he truly loved her. She could see it plain as day now and it stirred a new longing in her heart. There would, she knew, always be a part of herself that loved Ichigo Kurosaki. She'd hoped to marry him but her father forbade a match between the two of them; not that Ichigo even knew or was interested. But here, here was a man who adored her, cherished her, and placed her first which was so unheard of that she knew if any of his friends were privy to the details of their bedroom they would mock him. He would be labeled a weak, old fool for having let his wife dictate the order of the bed.
She wasn't sure it was love she felt, but she respected and cared for Jushiro and-
"Yes," she finally answered, voice a little weaker than she wanted. She repeated, "Yes, I want this, my lord. I want you."
Jushiro felt a wave of euphoria over take him, the feeling so heady he almost felt the need to sit down but he rallied his strength, drawing Orihime into the warmth of his embrace. His hand trailed up her neck, his touch bringing a shiver to her body as she closed her eyes. Leaning closer, he touched his lips to hers, chastely at first but without pulling away. He felt more than heard her inhale a deep breath through her nose and then with deliberate care he massaged her lips more firmly, his hand tightening its grip on her neck while his other arm wrapped more fully around her, pulling their chests together.
Orihime gasped and he couldn't resist the temptation to taste her, his tongue rolling out to caress hers. He felt her start but she didn't pull away. When he nibbled her bottom lip a slight moan was his reward and it flooded his body with want.
Orihime felt like she was drowning, like she couldn't get enough oxygen and then she realized she was holding her breath. As Jushiro relinquished her lips, she gulped in a deep mouthful of air, clutching the front of his robe to remain upright.
"Shall we retire to bed, dearest?" Jushiro purred against her ear and she felt herself melt into his arms.
Gathering her up, Jushiro turned, walking two steps to deposit her upon the plush mattress. Looking down at her with her chest heaving he had to take his own deep breaths to calm down; he needed to proceed slowly and carefully. He knew her to be a virgin, himself also but his age had garnered him enough experience by proxy; men did talk after all.
He undid the tie of his robe, letting it fall to the ground as he lifted his shirt above his head. When his eyes could again see her, he was pleased to notice her look of appreciation at his body. Even for a man his age, he was well toned, skin almost flawless save for a few scars from overzealous sword practice and horse riding accidents.
"Do you want to continue?" he queried, hands halting at the waistband of his pants. At her nod, he divested himself of the cloth, revealing the rest of his naked form.
Orihime's eyes widened and her cheeks burned but she couldn't look away; he was just too beautiful. She'd never seen a naked man and the one before her, she knew instinctively, was of a high caliber indeed.
"May I?" he asked gently toying with the edge of her cover. When she nodded again, he slowly pulled the material up over her waist, Orihime sitting up to allow him easier removal of the garment. As she lay back down, flamed tresses fan upon the crisp white cotton of her pillow, Jushiro was practically panting with need. His mouth watered, hands clenching and unclenching with a deep desire to ravish her.
Kneeling upon the bed, he crawled over her body, the heat of his skin touching hers for the first time. Orihime's breath hitched at the contact, her eyes fluttering closed as Jushiro leaned down, his lips ghosting over the flesh of her neck.
He kissed her then, soft and slowly, taking his time to savor that which was finally becoming wholly his. His hand trailed over her slender stomach, knuckles grazing the bottom of her breast and Orihime couldn't stop from arching into his touch. He smiled against her, pleased she trusted him so. Becoming bolder, he allowed himself to palm one of her treasured globes, drawing a whining keen from her succulent lips.
He added more pressure and she rolled her hips up ever so slightly. Latching onto her neck, his lips sucked firmly, a sweet mewl meeting his ears. Jushiro released her breast, hand lowering to between her legs. "I need to prepare you, dearest, are you agreeable to that?"
"Yes," she rasped, lost in a haze of sensation. A confident smirk twitched his lips and he delved lower, fingers caressing the very top of her heated center; she was already quite aroused.
He moved lower, fingers rubbing either side of her slit making her gasp, before he dared to test the waters of her core; she was close to ready. Jushiro had an impulse to want to taste her, but he knew she would be mortified of such a thing. All of this was so new as it was and he'd not want to ruin it by requesting something which would undoubtedly make her uncomfortable. So, he settled for touching her gently at first before adding more pressure, particularly to her knot of pleasure.
She arched roughly, a shuddering yelp escaping her open mouth.
"Did I hurt you?" he asked but she shook her head vehemently.
He continued touching her, enjoying the feel of her writhing beneath him, his arousal pressed against the side of her thigh and getting firmer by the moment. Jushiro couldn't deny himself the taste of her flesh any longer, lowering his mouth to a pert nipple.
Orihime inhaled sharply her nerves firing on all cylinders. For a moment, she was afraid it was all too much, that she couldn't handle the level of pleasure he was giving her. She felt wanton and wrong for giving into this so easily but Jushiro, either with perfect timing or somehow sensing her discomfort, released her to speak. "You look so beautiful, dearest. I want you so badly."
By some miracle, Orihime managed to open her eyes and connect her gaze with that of her husband.
"I want you to have me, Jushiro," she breathed.
His eyes almost rolled back in his head at the sound of his name finally exiting her supple lips. Shifting quickly, he parted her legs further to make room for his body. Grasping his length, he looked her in the eyes once more. "I'm sorry, but this will undoubtedly hurt," he informed, slight remorse to his tone.
"I understand, I'm ready," she replied softly.
He nodded once, then lining himself up took a deep breath before beginning to push in. He groaned low in his chest as the sensation of her tight, wetness engulfed him. Orihime squeezed her eyes shut, unable to stop a few stray tears from sliding down her cheeks; it was a tight fit. Jushiro longed to be able to take away this pain but it was unavoidable.
Leaning down, he kissed her firmly. "Do you want me to stop?"
"No, just…maybe push quickly? Just to get that part over?" she squeaked and he nodded.
"As you wish, hold onto me," he panted and she grasped around his neck. As he shoved forward, her nails dug into his flesh, leaving little crescent marks but he would bear them proudly. Her cry of pain tore at his heart and once he was fully sheathed within her, he stilled, one arm wrapped around her upper back while the other held him aloft enough to refrain from crushing her.
After a few moments, when she'd had time to adjust to his girth, Orihime nodded. "Jushiro, you…you can move now."
Jushiro inhaled in relief, pulling back just slightly before pushing back again. Orihime groaned but this time it seemed fill with less pain and a little more pleasure. He laid her back down, relinquished hand trailing between their bodies to once more caress her nub, allowing rippling tendrils of saccharine pleasure to erupt over her body.
"Jushiro," she whined, body yielding to the manipulation of his hand. Grinning, he once against encased her breast with his mouth, sucking firmly once, then twice before releasing with a lewd pop, the sound of which created new heat on his wife's lovely cheeks. He didn't allow her to think on it long, mouth descending to hers in a long, deep kiss, his hips driving forward once more.
Orihime allowed herself to be carried away to a plane of desire, wrapping her arms fully around his neck and kissing him back with a passion she'd not known she possessed.
Pulling away for breath, Jushiro whispered against her lips, "Orihime, I love you."
Her heart skipped a beat as the weight of his confession rolled over her. She shook her head, tears sliding down her cheeks once more but he kissed them away, mouthing over her skin, "I do not require you to return the sentiment, I merely wanted you to know the truth. I love you, dearest, you are the dear one of my heart."
His movements were increasing in pace, hips snapping forward more roughly as he too gave into the call of his hunger.
Orihime keened, moaned and whimpered, head swimming as the feel of him within her brought her closer and closer to an edge she knew she wanted to leap off. With one finally thrust of his hips, Jushiro felt her body quivering, a strained shriek catapulting out of Orihime's mouth.
A few more strokes allowed him capitulation of his own, his seed spilling deep within her body.
Pulling away, he gently extracted himself and gathered a nearby towel to clean what he could of the mess they'd made.
"And now," he said lowly, "I believe a bath is in order."
Rising from the bed, he made his way to the bathroom, pulling the taps open to allow hot water to spill forth. When it was ready, he gathered his sleepy wife into his arms, displeased at the sight of slight blood between her thighs but he made up for the distress he caused by washing her thoroughly and gently.
Not long after, they were encased in the warmth of the covers, naked skin pressed to naked skin with limbs intertwined. Orihime breathed easily, her breath ghosting over Jushiro's chest as he drew circles upon her shoulder. He inhaled deeply, taking in her fresh clean scent and revealing in the feel of her body pressed so close to his. He knew there was still a far way to go before she loved him with the possibility that it would never happen a very real thing. But he knew, that as long as she were by his side, caring for him as she had and now, willing to allow him to love her as he needed, he could survive on that.
More so, he could thrive on it.
Author's Note: I hope this ending isn't too abrupt, as with most of my one shots, I tend to add so much that they almost because multiple chapter seeds but I feel this is a good place to end, with not everything perfect, but with a feeling of contentment. I hope you all enjoyed!
