Warning: this chapter contains materials that may cause nose-bleed because of inappropriate scenes for young children. Readers, you are at your own risk.
Chapter 7: Ariadne: the embodiment of mazes and labyrinths because of her involvement in the myths of Minotaur and Theseus. In other stories, she is considered to be the goddess of wine as becoming the immortal bride of the god Dionysus.
Four days have passed since he last saw the enchantress.
On the contrary to his belief, the spell she that has cast onto him has not been lifted. In fact, he seems to think about her more and more every day; if her body is a drug, then he is now hooked to it. He even catches himself dreaming about her a couple of nights before; he fancies the night they shared with each other, almost as if he wants to go back to that stolen moment.
It is like she has complete control over his body and mind; he keeps imagining her throughout the day. And when night falls, the need to taste her body again grows immensely each time he fantasizes about the got-away enchantress.
He hopes that if he sleeps with a different person, then perhaps he will not think about her body anymore; then his body will stop being manipulated by her wicked spell. So that is the reason why he is currently at a bar right now, in the middle of the week, to find a bed partner for the night.
First of all, he already regrets his choice of the bar; this bar plays in-demanded songs nowadays, with extra bass to the already terrible sound. It makes him want to cancel his plan if it is not for his pride; backing down from anything that he already sets his mind to do is just not what he does. He guesses he has to make it quickly before his ears bleed.
Washing down the heavy whiskey, his golden eyes scan around the bar. Seeing blond, brown, ginger and other non-human coloured head, his eyes immediately eliminate those women from further consideration; he does not know why, as if his mind is looking for a specific ordinary colour. With the obnoxious music playing in the background, it takes a couple of seconds for his eyes to finally land on a woman who sits on the opposite side of the bar.
The woman has black hair, braided in intricate design; she is sitting alone in a booth, slowly drinking a can of beer while focusing entirely on her phone. She is wearing a tight red dress, with tiny black laces hug around the attire. The length of the dress is so short that its primary job is to cover only her private areas, showing off all the things that her body has to offer. Really wanting to get out of this hellhole, he guesses that he has to settle on her, hoping that she can quickly take care of his needs right now.
Swiftly making his way towards his potential bed partner for the night, he asks if the seat in front of her is occupied or not. She nods her head rapidly, quickly saying yes; he can practically see that woman drooling as she eyes his body up and down, examining him from top to bottom. He cares not about how she sees or thinks about him; all he needs is her service.
He introduces himself, almost lazily asking why such a lovely lady such as herself is alone tonight. He can see a hint of sparkle in her brown eyes, making her look like she is plotting something behind him. He thinks she says something about how her friend is supposed to meet up with her today, but the sound of her voice just does not go through his mind. He merely nods, pretending that he is actually paying attention.
There is one question she asks that does actually go through his head: she wants to go to his place to have a cup of coffee, to help her sober up before calling it a night. He was about to say that his apartment does not have coffee; plus, coffee does not actually help to sober her up. He wants to snort at her lie, but he restrains himself; if she actually wanted coffee, then he would want to become a monk.
He knows what she is doing anyway; he is not that stupid; but he is mentally exhausted, too tired to find another person to satisfy his needs for the night. Letting her think that she is so smart, he just nods and stands up quickly, leaving a bill at the table to pay for his share; he signals her to follow him. At least she makes an effort to make this go by quickly.
He keeps trying to recall the name of the woman that will accompany him for the next little while; yet, nothing comes up to his brain. He gives up after five seconds of trying; he does not care much about this woman, except for the fact that she might able to provide him with some stress relief.
As soon as they get to his apartment, he does not even get to the living room, and the woman is already down on her legs, trying to get rid of his belt and pants. Good, he thinks, this way he can get it over with, and the spell can finally be lifted. She quickly undoes the zipper in his pants, pulling his member out. He can see her eyes become comically large as she sees the size of his manhood. She praises him for having the largest member she has ever seen.
The nameless woman starts darting her tongue out, slightly caresses the tip of his cock. Being bolder, she takes the whole length down her throat, starting bobbing up and down along his shaft; he can feel the tip of his cock is being squeezed slightly by her narrow throat passage. The unnamed woman continues to twirl her tongue around his cock, allowing him to fully feel the hotness of her mouth.
On any other occasion, he would feel hard as a rock when a woman starts pleasuring him with such a body and skill. But today, it remains somewhat soft, unable to justify his glorious length. The woman seems to be undiscouraged about his reaction, or the lack of it. She starts to apply more pressure, somewhat pulling on his member, to will it back to life.
But nothing happens. The shaft remains limp within the nameless woman's orifice.
Sesshoumaru knows that he is full of virility and stamina. He always has enough sex drive that his manhood can get hard whenever he commands it to be; but usually, it will come to life even without his permission. But not today, apparently; good gods, why does his body have to betray him when he needs it the most? He needs to do something before the woman concludes that he has erectile dysfunction problem, and he will not tolerate such false conviction.
"Turn over, on all fours", he commands her.
She smirks at his demands, "Oh, you want to get straight to the point? That is fine by me."
As she turns around, he can see her round buttocks up in the air, showing him the curve in her hips. Somehow, without seeing her face, his mind projects the image of the got-away enchantress into the nameless woman who is kneeling in front of him as; similar raven hair, the same shade of skin, and almost the same slender legs.
That much is enough to awaken his member.
Pulling the red panties aside, his eyes can see the hairless snatch, which is wet and ready for him. But instead, his mind shows images of the enchantress's sweet sheath; the phantom divine wine taste floods through his saliva. He can almost taste her flavour in his mouth once again; the illusion is so real that he almost comes down for a taste of the nameless woman's private area.
But he stops himself before he can do so; he does not want any foul taste to linger in his palate, possibly making him forget about the taste of most exquisite wine. Seeing the unnamed woman in this aroused state, he guesses she does not need much foreplay or perhaps none at all.
Putting the tip of his cock in front of her cunt, he can feel the heat radiate from the small opening; his ears can pick the soft sound of her whimpering, perhaps due to the feeling of excitement. Wanting to the image of the witch disappear from his mind as fast as possible, he pushes his length into her hot slit, not stopping until the tip of his cock touches the end of her passage.
She lets out an ecstatic moan, which sounds like a dying walrus to him. It makes him miss the sensual cries of the woman that got away; the tunes of masterpieces are still playing somewhere deep in his mind. He pulls himself out and then pushes it back in; which unfortunately makes the nameless woman making more of the annoying sound.
He needs to do something about this quick; or else, his eardrums are going to burst, and his mind will go insane from this torture.
He pushes her back down; to the point, her shoulder meets the cold floor, and her face is literally kissing the surface. Without the ability to breathe through her nose, the unnamed woman has to breathe through her mouth instead. This is good for him because he no longer has to listen to the torturous sounds.
As he fucks the nameless woman, he starts to notice a few things. The sheath that his cock is currently in, its texture and sensation are entirely different from the one belongs to the woman who haunts him lately. The hot slit wraps around his cock, yet not tightly; the sheath is wet, yet not dripping in fine wine. At the moment, he feels like he is using any regular whore; nothing really stirs up his emotions or the desire to go over the edge.
Yet, with the woman that got away, he feels like he is in paradise; everything about the enchantress stimulates his senses, leaving him yearning for more. She seems to know how to awake the wiggling instinct inside him, making him gotten drunk off her crystal blue eyes. The tip of her fingers feels like fire, like adding gasoline to her blazing touch.
Right now, he feels like he has been locked out of that heaven. That realization leaves him hollow inside.
He images the one that is underneath him right now is the enigmatic enchantress. He can see raven hair clings to her face as she trying to catch her breath; he can hear the erotic sounds escaping from her lips, fueling his blood with more desire to listen to those tunes again. The faint sweet and citrus smell enters his body, making him want to savour her skin to absorb the exquisite taste directly. He can feel her sensual folds wrapping tightly around his cock, taking him to another height.
The moans of the nameless woman take him back to reality.
He quickly pulls himself out of the woman's sheath, zipping his pants up as the woman cranks her neck back to look at him. Wasting no more time, he points at the door and says: "Get out."
At first, the dark-hair woman squints at him, giving him a doubting look. Then, she lets out a small laugh, jokingly says to him: "Are you kidding me? I thought you have more stamina than that, handsome."
Sesshoumaru is definitely not in the mood for joking right now; he gives her a look that makes her face draining out of any colour instantly. He stands up, fixing up his shirt; turning around, he twists the knob, bursting the door wide open. "Get. Out", he puts pressure on each word, making sure she understands that he is not fooling around.
The nameless woman trembles at the coldness of his words; she quickly sits up, fixing up her dress and panties. She storms so hard out of his apartment that there might be marks of her heels on the wooden floor. As she passes through him, she glares at him and mutters to word "jerk", directing the insult to him.
As soon as the woman steps out of his apartment, he slams the door shut, locking it into place. Tossing his dress shoes to the side, he immediately heads to the kitchen. He needs something to calm his mind down; perhaps a glass of whiskey will do the job. Opening a cupboard, as he is about to reach for his usual bottle of whiskey, his fingers linger on a bottle of red wine.
He is neither a wine enthusiast nor a hater of it; he just never really drinks it because it never gives a nice buzz to his body fast enough. The only rare occasion he will drink wine is when he dines with the crucial potential client at a fancy restaurant. He does not know what makes him do this; but his hand reaches out to get the bottle of wine, instead of getting his usual whiskey.
Opening a cupboard directly next to the one storing his alcohol, he just wants to grab a random glass to hold the liquid while he enjoys it. He is surprised when he sees a pair of tall wine glasses sitting at the back of the cupboard; Sesshoumaru honestly cannot recall where he got those wine glasses. Perhaps they are a gift from someone; it does not matter to him at this moment, he grabs one wine glass and closes the cupboard shut.
Making his way to the living room, he sits down on the dark grey sofa, placing the bottle of wine and the glass on the coffee table. He turns the TV on, immediately switching to news channel; the last thing he needs is another sound that can potentially remind him of that nefarious enchantress. A loud "pop" sound resonates through the silent room as he opens the bottle of wine; he then pours a little bit of the red liquid into the glass.
A sound of the news anchor seems to fade away as he takes a first sip of the wine. The flavour of the wine overwhelms his senses; it reminds him so much of the witch's sweet essence. It is definitely not the same, but it is the closest thing to that addicting substance. He tastes another sip, enjoying the aroma of the fine wine as it fills up his senses.
Sesshoumaru looks at the bottle, remembering the brand so he can buy another bottle next time he goes out. He takes another sip, allowing the warm feeling wash over his body. One more sip; then another. Soon afterwards, the wine glass is empty, leaving the red stain on the glass.
He pours another drink, emptying half of the bottle into the glass. This time, he does not drink the whole glass right away; he slowly takes a sip out of the glass, letting the flavour soaking into his system. The more he drinks, the more he thinks he is currently drinking up her private essence; that thought only almost drives him to the brink of insanity.
Yet, at the same time, it somehow clears his mind. For the last couple of days, the enchantress keeps haunting him, refusing the leave him alone, even in his sleep. It is like he has been stuck in this never-ending game, where he has to find a way out of this boundless maze filled with images of the enigmatic woman.
But right now, as he is drinking up the wine, the liquor seems to set his blood on fire, just like how her taste does to this body. But it also provides some sort of relief to his body; as if it is rewarding him to finally acknowledge the fact that she is always somewhere deep down in his subconscious; to acknowledge that he will never escape this cursed labyrinth.
One sip, two sips; time seems to fly by as his wine glass is once again empty again. Wanting to taste more of the sweet liquid, he dumps the rest of the bottle into the glass; he can always get a new bottle, or perhaps two, when tomorrow comes. The news anchor is saying something about the stock market, but he does not care right now; all he pays attention to right now is the excellent wine.
Sooner than he likes, the glass wine is empty, leaving him feeling somewhat disappointed; she is never running out of sweet essence like this. It always seems to come out more as he explores deeper into her hot sheath; unlike this useless bottle of wine.
Settling the glass onto the end table, he puts his feet up on the coffee table. Leaning backwards to the sofa, his body can finally relax. The nice buzz from consuming the alcohol is still not there yet in his system, but it does provide a warm feeling in his stomach.
Letting the small heat slowly spreads across his body, he closes his eyes. Image of the dark-haired beauty gradually appears in his mind; accompanied by the taste of fine wine, the illusion becomes more realistic.
To his surprise, the witch does not seem to want to torture his mind with erotic images this time; instead, she appears to lure him to a deep slumber. The faint sweet flavour is the last thing his senses can detect before sleep finally consumes him. And she is with him throughout the night in his dream.
Seven days have passed since he last met the eager vixen.
He is currently in his office, reading over some contracts. How funny, this day, but last week, he was working as well. And even more ridiculous, the reason for why he is working remains the same: trying to do something, anything, besides of just thinking of her.
Ever since he comes to terms with himself, she seems to plague his mind less often; but, that does not mean he has stopped thinking about her. No no, images of her still pop up throughout the day within his mind, which is easily triggered by different things. And this time, it can be set off by things outside of his apartment; as if he has not been suffered enough at his own place.
Speaking of the devil, for a couple of days, he has been contemplating about an idea: he can use his private investigator to find out about the raven-haired enchantress. Why not, he reasons himself; his investigator can find out who it is and give him all the information he needs. It will be tough though; since he only knows her name and not her last name. Well, that is the problem of his private investigator, not his; after all, that person will be paid handsomely.
But, isn't it considered an invasion of privacy? He is confident he will not be arrested for doing something like this since he knows a couple of people that have power and owes him a favour or two. But, he is hesitated about doing it. He really does not want to appear like a creep when she finds out about how he finds her; for some unknown reasons, he does not want to be the bad guy in her eyes.
This dilemma has been in his head for days; still, no answers have been found. He is torn between seeing her again and appearing to be a creep in front of her; between gaining back his sanity or being stuck in this never-ending maze. He decides to think about it later; he has a job to do right now.
Leaning back against a black leather chair, he raises two feet up, resting them on the edge of a fancy wooden desk. There are two stacks of paper locate on his right side and a computer on his left; his hands are holding a folder of some sort, flipping back and forth between pages.
There are currently only him plus a couple of employees at the office right now; and those employees will not dare to disturb him. So he does not care about how he sits; Sesshoumaru just wants to relax while reading these tedious contracts and proposal, especially when he had to be up early because of the noisy garbage truck. He really needs to call in some favours to get that rescheduled; since he is really not appreciated being woke up at seven in the morning.
Is it him or is this contract is really long? He has been reading it for about fifteen minutes now, and he cannot get through the first page. Ah, he has found his problem: the raven-haired beauty. What a surprise, why can he not guess that before; the enchantress's spell is still keen on him.
He tries to focus on reading again; the title page says "Purchasing another warehouse to increase inventory capacity due to the increase in demands of …" He stops reading as the word "demand" fully registered in his brain.
It makes him remember about the night with her one more time. He remembers clearly on how she asked him, again and again, to slow down; or else she would lose her mind. But he had none of it; he would do whatever he wants. So he thrust in deeper, and harder, making her moan louder. The sound of her reaching climax is still somewhere playing over and over within his subconscious, like a broken record.
The phone vibrates, dragging him back to reality. Pulling his phone out of the pocket, he sees that an alarm just goes off; telling him it is time to visit his dear father. They have agreed that he has to stop by his father's house every Saturday at six o'clock to have dinner with him; in addition to reporting everything regarding about the company's business activities. After all, his father is still the chairman of the firm; and he is just the president of the company.
Setting the paper aside, he stands up, putting his phone back in his pocket; he also manages to grab the folder containing Totosai's proposal under the mountain of paper. He picks his jacket up from the chair, taking the car key from the table; he closes the door to his office shut, locking it into place. He walks down to the parking lot, instead of taking the elevator. Maybe a quick workout will get rid of any stiffness in his body from sitting in the office for nearly eight hours.
Getting onto his black Tesla, he does not even bother to input the address on the GPS; Sesshoumaru has been driving on the same route every weekend that he basically memorizes the way there; plus, he lived there for a period of time in his life. The ride to his father's house is uneventful; there is a little bit of traffic here and there, but it is nothing that is out of his control.
The time is five forty-five in the evening, and he finally pulls up the driveway. Great, apparently, his half-brother is also currently visiting their father as well. Shutting off the engine unenthusiastically, he gets out of the car as soon as he grabs the folder with him.
A servant immediately opens the main door for him, bowing down low. He can hear the man saying "Good evening, Sesshoumaru-sama"; but he does not show any signs of acknowledgement, not wanting to waste any of his breath.
He heads straight to his father's study, which is where most of their meetings have been taken place. He just goes to that room, sits down and discusses the company's activity; followed by a quiet dinner. Then he leaves; he completes his promised duty, and nothing more.
He does not want to be in the same room as his father more than when he is needed.
As he is passing through the front garden, he sees the door to the living room is wide open. If he did not see his half-brother's car in the driveway, his loud and annoying voice would have confirmed his presence in this house at the moment; and he does not want to get any closer to seeing his half-brother's face. But, to get to the study, he has to go through the hallway connected the living room and study.
He cannot be any more unenthusiastic.
As he gets closer, he can see a female figure seeing next to his half-brother; the woman's small form has been covered behind the door. She is sitting on her legs; back straighten, in front of his stepmother. She seems to wear a grey dress, with a creamy cardigan; at least that is what he sees from a distance. However, her wavy raven hair covers most of her back, making him unable to see any of her features.
Even though he can only see from behind, there is something about that woman that sparks his interest. The way her hair falls naturally on her back reminds him of the first time he ever saw the enchantress at the bar. His fingers twitch slightly, wanting to pick up the phone right now to call his private investigator to give him an extraordinary assignment.
The urge is getting stronger and stronger as he gets closer to the living room. The laughter of his half-brother and his voice fade away as his own voice is getting deafening as seconds go by. And it keeps saying "That person is not her. That person is not her. That person is not her". Holding his breath, he tries to slow his racing heart down; he forces his fingers to relax as the unintended clenching fists start to bring a bit of pain to his palm.
There are plenty of women who have black hair in this giant city, he tells himself; and the strange woman currently sitting in his father's living room is just not the same woman has been haunting his mind this past week. Voices in his mind get louder and louder, repeating the same phrase over and over again.
He stops dead in his tracks to the study room as his father makes eyes contact with him.
