Always and Forever Part 11
Standard Disclaimer: all characters herein are the creative property of Kubo Tite.
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-the continuation of Chapter 10
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Turning the menu towards him, Ichigo knew this was coming as soon as soon as he had placed Orihime's requests. "Yes, I'm certain that my order is correct." He was tempted to growl his displeasure into the receiver as the wait staff stammered out their confusion. He sighed and leaned his head against the nearby wall as he muttered. "Can I just say that my wife is expecting and we leave it at that?"
Blowing out a breath as he hung up the phone, he shook his head as he imagined the kitchen staff's reaction to his wife's order, probably pure horror and gastronomical distress. Ichigo just hoped that they didn't get carried away and get creative with the whole meal. He would definitely be pissed if his food arrived covered in wasabi on a bed of sweet red beans.
"Hey there, supper will be here in about twenty minutes." He announced, pushing open the bathroom door. Ichigo slipped into the steam filled room and admired his bathing wife. With water beading enticingly on her flushed skin and her silky hair piled haphazardly on top of her head in a sloppy bun, Ichigo thanked whatever benevolent god that had seen fit to gift him with this lovely woman. Sliding the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip as he felt a primal hunger stir, one that had absolutely nothing to do with food, he leisurely purred out, "The hell with dinner. You definitely look good enough to eat."
Squirming under his heated stare, Orihime felt strangely vulnerable being completely naked while her husband stood only a few feet away, fully clothed. "You could always join me, you know. There's plenty of room."
"Not a good idea Hime." Ichigo chuckled out, watching his wife self-consciously flutter her hands over her chest as she drew her knees up. Kneeling at the edge of the tub, he dipped his fingers into the water before trailing the wet digits up her slender arm and tracing over the delicate bones of her shoulder. Gazing into her wide eyes through lowered brows, he stated in all honesty. "If I join you, you'll not be getting your dinner until much later."
Reaching up, Orihime wrapped her damp hand around his where it rested at the base of her throat, his thumb brushing tantalizingly over her fluttering pulse. She pressed tiny kisses over his knuckles before playfully nibbling on his fingertips as she flirtatiously batted her eyelashes at her captive audience. "I guess that just depends on what your definition of supper is."
"Minx" He replied fondly, pulling his hand from her grasp as he leaned back against the wall. Ichigo watched the overhead light sparkle against the droplets on her skin, making her glitter like the precious jewel she was. "I'll take my bath after we eat." He informed her as his eyes swept slowly over the luscious body before him. "Maybe I'll try to persuade you to join me instead."
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Looking over his shoulder, Ichigo couldn't stop the smile tugging at his lips as his wife, wrapped in a lightweight, blue robe, walked out of the bathroom. She didn't even spare him a glance as she made a beeline straight for the small table where he was laying out their recently delivered meal.
Setting the tray on the nearby desk, he turned back to the table after only to stare at his wife's curious actions. Ichigo watched her in silence for a moment as she pushed the plates and bowls around, randomly rearranging them before shoving them away as she wiggled back from the table. "What's wrong?"
"Umm, nothing," She stated quickly, evasively sliding her gaze to the side as she shrugged her shoulders and explained. "I'm really not all that hungry right now."
Kneeling at her side, Ichigo took in her pale features, the tense way she held herself, and how she carefully averted gaze from the table before quietly asking. "You're feeling sick, aren't you?"
"No, I'm fine Ichigo." She responded firmly, attempting to prove her point by turning back to her meal and picking at her food before closing her eyes with a deep groan.
"Dammit, don't force yourself to eat." He yelled, pulling her unresistingly back from the table and pressing her to his chest as he ran his hands over her narrow back, offering what small comfort he could.
Holding herself motionless for a moment, Orihime relaxed when her stomach didn't protest further as she sank into her husband's comforting warmth. "I'm sorry. The smell hit me and…" she gestured vaguely, knowing he would understand.
Closing his eyes as the tension left her body, knowing that the initial queasy feeling must have passed already. Wrapping his arms around her, he rested his chin on top of her head, hopeful that this was the worst of it and not a repeat of yesterday afternoon. Ichigo had never seen someone get so sick before and the fact that it had been his wife only made it a thousand times worse.
The feeling of being helpless has never set well with him, but Orihime repeatedly told him that everything was fine and he was slowly starting to believe her, especially since her favorite basis of comparison was Rukia. It was undeniably true that the bunny obsessed woman had been violently ill for what seemed forever and now she was a glowing picture of health, pink cheeks and all. Even though it was Rukia they were talking about, it did indeed go a long way to reassuring him that this morning sickness would someday pass.
That and the longsuffering receptionist at the doctor's office yesterday had calmly told him the same when he had called in a panic. Not wanting to be rude or anything, he had insisted on talking to someone a bit more qualified than a secretary when dealing with the subject of his wife's health. Although he really should have stuck with the first lady since the nurse had dryly inquired if he wasn't by chance a first time dad, only to hand the receiver to Dr. Nakamura when he about came through the phone at her. From bad to worse, surely her laughter wasn't considered professional…especially her quip about him sounding an awful lot like his father.
Even though she said he was probably overreacting, the amused doctor still gave him her cell phone number and asked if he had called Isshin. Grrr… he hadn't even thought about his dad. Ichigo did call him immediately after hanging up on the still chuckling doctor. That alone showed the true state of his desperation, he not only willing asked his dad for help, Ichigo even civilly allowed the insane man and his sisters into his apartment. If his father could help Orihime, he would gladly put up with any torment his family would likely dish out.
Isshin had been so excited at being summoned to take care of his daughter-in-law. He had checked her heart rate and blood pressure before getting Orihime to drink an electrolyte solution, hoping that she would be able to keep it down and convinced her to rest. Although Yuzu was still upset with him for starting a fight with her boyfriend, her concern for his wife had overridden her objections to being around him until he apologized. 'Yeah right, hell would freeze first before I apologize to that bat brandishing brat.' While his blonde sister had helped Orihime clean up and change, Karin had joined him on the couch, lightly punching him in the arm in a show of support. She had then proceeded to spend the rest of the evening, along with their dad, ribbing him for making such a big deal over a bout of morning sickness. …Unfeeling Bastards
Mulling over the phenomenon of the oddly named 'morning sickness', he was still puzzled why exactly it was called that. Orihime's and even Rukia's sickness hadn't been limited to the morning hours, more like the anytime-and-everywhere sickness. Pulled out of his strange train of thought when his wife sighed and snuggled deeper into his embrace, Ichigo rubbed his chin over her hair. "Was it the food in general, or something more specific that upset your stomach?"
"I think it was the wasabi." She admitted sheepishly into his shoulder, feeling much better now with his strong arms around her.
Snapping his eyes open, Ichigo tried to smoother his amusement, until the irony of it all overwhelmed him and he snorted. "The wasabi made you sick." 'Justice finally prevailed', he inwardly cheered, chuckling into her hair. He figured it was only fair, she had been making his stomach sick for years with her creative use of the spicy root. Not that he was happy that his wife was sick, but honestly, this was almost too good to be true.
"Don't laugh, it's not funny." Orihime pulled back and lightly smacked her amused husband in the arm before declaring with a definite pout, "It's all because 'someone' won't let me enjoy my food. First nattō and now wasabi, what's next my red bean paste?" She cried in distress, cupping her stomach as she stared down at her bump.
Her pissy little display entertained him almost as much as the commotion the wasabi caused, which only further offended his prickly wife. Her rare fits of temper had all but disappeared lately, but he figured that he really should make amends before she ended up truly angry at him. Trying to catch his breath, Ichigo rubbed his hand over her back under the heavy weight of her hair. "I'm sorry." He earnestly apologized before realizing that she wasn't particularly addressing him with her rant. "Were you talking to the baby just now?"
Looking up at his solicitous tone, Orihime narrowed her eyes, gauging his sincerity. Twisting her lips into a crooked smile, she leaned back into his side, forgiving him for laughing at her. It's not like she could hold a grudge against him anyway. Besides it was nice hearing her normally taciturn husband cut loose, even if it was at her expense. Sighing softly as Ichigo began slowly caressing her back in tiny circles; she remembered to answer his earlier question. "Uh huh, we seem to keep having discussions about food…mainly about what he doesn't want to eat." She replied in all seriousness, poking gently at her protruding stomach.
Arching a brow, Ichigo stared at his wife as she continued to prod at the baby before quietly inquiring, "He?"
"I don't want to refer to the baby as 'it'." She replied with a small shrug of her shoulders, gazing down at the slight bulge under robe. Running her hands over the spot where her baby slept, a soft, tender smile gracing her lips as she stated, "Besides, he feels like a he, not a she."
"Well, that's specific. Thanks for clearing it up for me." Rolling his eyes at her obscure statement, he kissed her cheek before pulling back to remove her dishes from the table and set them back on the tray. Contemplating her dish of shogayaki, he frowned at the plate as the smell of ginger pork and wasabi hit him, turning his stomach as well. He wasn't even going to try and scrape the green condiment off her entrée and attempt to eat it. Ichigo had learned his lesson years ago not to abuse his stomach in such a way. Picking up the menu, he looked back at his wife as she poked through the dishes left on the table. "I can order you something else to eat, Orihime."
"No, you don't have to do that. This here doesn't smell bad actually." She acknowledged distractedly as she reached out and plucked a piece of meat from the dish across from her. Nibbling on this and then trying some of that, Orihime's eyes lit up as she took another bite. "Hmmm, this is really good. You should try this Ichigo, it's yummy."
Sitting back down at her side, he watched her close her eyes as she savored a piece of marinated fish. "That's nice to know Hime." He replied with a chuckle, "I thought so too, that's why I ordered it for my supper."
"Ohh…" She breathed out guiltily as she glanced down at plate and then back up at her amused husband. "I'm sorry Ichigo. I didn't mean to eat your dinner."
"Open up…"
"No, that's yours. You really should eat-" She didn't get a chance to finish her edict as he unceremoniously shoved the food into her open mouth. Closing her lips around his fingers, she unintentionally sucked lightly on them as he pulled back, a wicked grin curling his lips.
He held up another tidbit to her mouth, "More Hime." Ichigo ordered as he waited patiently for his stubborn wife to open her mouth. Arching a brow as she shook her head and obstinately kept her lips closed, he dragged the piece of meat over her mouth, smearing sauce along her plumb bottom lip.
Flicking her tongue out to lick at the mess he made, Orihime paused as she noticed the gleam in Ichigo's eyes and his tensely poised hand, waiting for the chance to feed her again. Trying to ignore the stickiness on her lips, she sealed her mouth mutinously, refusing to let her diabolical husband enforce his will on her so easily.
"Well, if you won't clean it up that means I'll have to." He taunted, tilting his head as he leaned in, preparing to run his tongue over the sweet sauce staining her lips.
Pressing her fingers into his shoulder, she pushed him back, shaking her head at his plan. "That's no fair, you get to play with food, but you never let me-" Her eyes widened as he deftly popped the piece in her mouth, grinning that smug little smile of his. Frowning at her unrepentant husband as he stole a bite for himself, Orihime chewed the savory morsel and swallowed before licking her sticky lips as she complained petulantly, "That was sneaky."
Ichigo's dark eyes unapologetically met hers, one corner of his mouth curled up in arrogant satisfaction as he gestured expansively with a piece of pickled radish, "Yes, it was, but also quite effective."
Wrinkling her nose at his highhanded manner, she realized two could play at this game. Reaching out, Orihime captured her husband's hand and delicately nibbled on the slice of vegetable he still held. Gently cradling his strong hand between her own, she guided his fingers into her mouth, watching with pleasure as he lost some of his cocksure attitude, his grin slowly sliding from his face. Kneading her fingers into the palm of his hand, she swirled her tongue around the invading digits and lightly sucked on his index finger as her husband watched her intently, his lips parted in unconscious imitation.
Ichigo blew out a tight breath and shifted uncomfortably as she leisurely released his fingers. "Fine, you win. You can feed yourself." He scowled as he watched her happily chew on the piece of radish, her face flush with victory. He pointed to the dishes on the table, "But I want you to finish this dinner before you go and add me to the menu."
Pulling the plate closer to her, Orihime gleefully sat back on her heels, chopsticks already in her hand. Glancing up at her chagrined husband through her lashes, a pleased smile gracing her lips, she obediently acquiesced to his demands. "Yes Ichigo, whatever you say."
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Returning to her side after placing the dishes in the hall, he took a seat on the small sofa where she sat with her legs tucked underneath her, flipping through a tourist pamphlet. Wrapping his arm around her shoulders, she automatically curled into his side as he rested his chin on top of her head. "Anything sound interesting to you?"
"Hmm?"
"Is there something in there you might want to do tomorrow?" Ichigo asked, flicking the paper in her hands before tilting his head to look at her face. "Or were you daydreaming and not even looking through the brochure?"
Dropping her hands and the pamphlet into her lap, she rubbed her cheek against her husband's firm chest, fighting back a yawn as she apologized. "Sorry, I guess I spaced out."
"You're tired." His tone stated that as a fact and not a question as he raised her face up to his. Taking in her sleepy eyes and slight smile, Ichigo frowned down at his wife. "Did going in to work wear you out that badly?"
Shaking her head in the negative, she lay back on his chest and mumbled into the loose folds of his shirt, "I didn't sleep well last night. I was too keyed up about today that my mind wouldn't stop going around and around in circles. And then I started feeling funny again, after that I couldn't sleep at all."
Furrowing his brows at her talk of feeling funny, he was certain that she had said something about that before. Although at that time when he had questioned her, she had not been able to define her feelings, other than to call them 'funny'…a really helpful description. Ichigo shrugged his shoulders and promptly pushed it from his mind, figuring it was just an Orihime-ism. Like something along the lines of little blue men, meaning that it made perfect sense to her, just not anyone else.
Shoving himself to his feet as she fought back another yawn, Ichigo held out a hand to his wife. "Come on, you should be in bed." He commanded, tugging her to her feet and guiding her to sit on the edge of the mattress.
Orihime sat silently as she watched her husband fold back the covers before shaking herself out of her stupor and replying to his directive. "Really, I'm fine, Ichigo. Besides, it's so early and you're not ready to go to bed yet and-"
"You don't have to worry about me, Orihime. I'm a big boy, remember?" He teased as he unbelted her robe and slowly slid it from her shoulders. She crawled under the covers, quietly complaining all the while about bossy men. Tossing the robe to the side, Ichigo smoothed the blanket over her before giving her further orders. "Go to sleep. I have a few things I can finish working on and then I'll take my bath. You on the other hand only need to concern yourself with getting enough sleep."
She rolled to her side, facing him, eyes already closed, "I love you, Ichi." She murmured, burrowing into the pillow as he settled the covers back over her bare shoulder.
Gently brushing her hair from her face, he couldn't stop the tender smile that crossed his face at her peacefully relaxed features. Her lashes fluttered against her velvety cheeks as she slowly sunk into dreams. "I love you too, Hime." He whispered fervently as he bent and placed a soft kiss on the corner of her mouth. He straightened up and watched her lips curve slightly as she mumbled indistinctly into the blankets, leaving him sorely tempted to sit there the rest of the evening and just watch her sleep.
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Letting his head roll against the rim of the tub, Ichigo rested his arms along the sides as he relaxed in the steaming water. Shifting slightly, he stretched out his long legs and closed his eyes, laying a folded cloth over his eyes as he contemplated how this evening hadn't quite turned out as he had planned. 'Actually, nothing so far had turned out as I imagined.' Ichigo mused to himself as he bit back his disappointment. He was more than aware that Orihime couldn't help it that she was so tired. Certain things were to be expected during this time after all.
Although in reality, little had changed in their lives since his wife had told him about her pregnancy. Sure, she tired easily, and then there was her morning sickness, but those two varied greatly from day to day. Some other changes were slowly making themselves known. For one, her stomach was beginning to show proof of her expectant state and he now clearly understood what Renji had been talking about when he said about the change in breast size. Ichigo's laughter echoed in the heavy, humid air as he thought if the literature from the doctor's office was correct, Orihime's breasts were going to continue to grow the entire time. 'Damn, I love my life.'
He wasn't the only one avidly watching this metamorphosis; his wife was terribly excited by her body's changes, too. She said it was like she was morphing into another creature. Which according to Orihime was a good thing, and she was hoping to turn into a panda at some later date. He hadn't been quite certain how she would take it when he had informed her that pregnant women were usually considered more duck-like, with the waddle and all. Thankfully she seemed pretty pleased with that idea as well, it wasn't a panda, but still acceptable in her eyes.
Regardless of how bizarre it was sometimes, their life had continued unchanged with the advent of her pregnancy. It was funny considering what a nervous wreck he had been when he first found out, hounding her to rest, watching her like a hawk, and worrying obsessively over her health. Surely he could be forgiven for his concern when it came to his wife. It wasn't just that he loved her to distraction either. Things seemed to happen in regards to Orihime, strange things. It always seemed that no matter what he did, she always managed to slip through his fingers, intentionally or not. He had enough events in the past to support his statement. There were too many instances to count where he had her safely by his side one moment, and the next she was beyond his net of protection.
The rush of cool air brushed over his heated skin, sending a shiver racing through him as the scrape of the door sliding open pulled him from his musings. Lifting the cloth covering his eyes, he glanced towards the slowly closing door and the silhouette of his wife as she gracefully shed her robe. Ichigo felt his lips curve up into an amused grin as she twisted her hair up into a knot on top of her head and glided near, a tiny smile gracing her lips.
Holding out a hand to steady her, Ichigo curled his fingers around hers as she dipped her toes into the water before settling between his legs. He wrapped his arms around her delightful form with a smile, certain in this instance that she wouldn't slip through his fingers anytime soon as she leaned back against his chest and stretched her legs out. Smoothing her feet up and down his muscular calves, he whispered into her tousled hair. "I thought you were sleeping."
"I was, but I think a few of our little blue men stowed away in your bag…or maybe they were in mine…" She tapped her finger against her chin before shrugging lightly, realizing that it really didn't matter whose bag they had hidden in, only that they had. "Anyway, they pried my eyes open, whispered that the bed was cold, and prodded me in this direction."
"Is that so? I never realized how handy those pesky aliens of yours were." He chuckled against her neck as he playfully walked his fingers over her stomach and slowly made his way north. "So, if my hand was to slide up and cup this luscious mound, I could always say that one of those blue men forced me to."
Quietly gasping as his strong hand closed over her breast, she curiously asked in a small voice, "Did they?"
"Oh yeah, they are ordering me to do all sorts of things." His grin was evident in his tone as his other hand crept up to caress her neglected breast. Feeling his fierce male pride rouse as he framed her abundant breasts in his hands, he fought the urge to pluck her from the tub and stalk to bed and put his stamp of ownership all over her luscious body. Ichigo wanted to place some sort of indelible mark on her, one that would prove to everyone that she was undeniably his. The glittering wedding ring wasn't making much of an impression on her admirers; maybe her rounded tummy might further convince them that she was unavailable.
Groaning as his wife pressed her breast firmly into his hands, rolling her supple body in rhythm with his motions. He couldn't stop thinking about how insecure he could still be in regards to his wife and how it spilled out as extreme possessiveness. Ichigo was aware that Orihime wasn't a prize won, but a gift given. There was a major difference. This was something he knew, but he always wanted to rub it in other men's faces that she was his. Instead he should be gratefully kneeling before his princess, thankful that she had chosen him.
Brushing his lips through her hair, desperately wanting to lavish pleasure on his princess, his queen, his wife, "Kiss me, Orihime." Ichigo demanded, only to cringe at the pleading tone in his voice as his hands molded her perfect curves, giving special attention to her tightly pebbled nipples. Restlessly nudging the side of her head with his chin, he dipped down to nibble on her earlobe in his impatience, needing her lush mouth.
Sinking against his eager lips, Orihime reached up to clasp her hand in his hair, threading her damp fingers through the short, silky strands. Squirming under his busy hands, Orihime whimpered into the moist cavern of his mouth, feeling his lips curve under hers in a smile. The smug man knew he was overwhelming her, stripping all thoughts from her mind with his aggressive assault. Trying to catch her breath as he nipped at her panting mouth and soothed the sting with the slow glide of his tongue, she figured that breathing was highly overrated in comparison to his drugging kisses as she tugged her husband closer. Letting him lure her back into the intense exchange, she was curious about what had made Ichigo so impatient. Instead of savoring his sensual meal, he was bypassing all anticipation and rapidly leading her straight to dessert.
Feeling assailed by the myriad sensations coursing through her as he skillfully weaved fiery caresses, scorching kisses, and firm touches into a sensual net that she willingly allowed herself to be caught in. Sighing softly against his lips as his hand left her breast and slid into the water, slowly gliding down to part her ginger curls. Mindlessly separating her legs at Ichigo's insistent urging, she spread her pale thighs to lay over his. With his hands and chest supporting her, Orihime permitted her husband to direct their frenzied play as he laid siege to her helplessly undulating body.
Murmuring against his mouth, Orihime wriggled against Ichigo's firm hold, sending water gently lapping over her body in sharp contrast to the powerful sensations washing over her. Gasping as he squeezed her tight, grinding his shaft into the small of her back. His heartfelt groan vibrated through her lips and had her trying to turn in his arms, desperately wanting to pleasure him as he was pleasuring her.
"Sit still woman, you aren't getting away from me yet." He stated harshly, his muscled forearm caging her to his chest as his hand groped her generous breast, twisting and tugging on her pebbled nipple.
"I'm not trying to get away from you, Ichi." Futilely twisting against his iron hold, she was aware that fighting his strength was useless, if Ichigo didn't want her to move, then she simply wasn't going anywhere. Clenching her fingers into his bright locks, she pleaded piteously as their lips met and clung. "Please, I can't touch you sitting like this."
"That's the plan, Hime." He growled out heatedly, silencing her protests with a quick promise of later. He pulled her senses back under with a scorching kiss as his hands traded places, giving her neglected breast some much needed attention as the other slipped down over her quivering flesh.
"Ichi…" She whispered out on a fractured sigh as she flexed and strained against his insistent caresses. Feeling the powerful pull of release calling her as her husband's fingers firmly stroked her slick channel, she pulled her lips from his, struggling for breath. Letting her head fall back weakly on his shoulder as his raspy breath heaved in and out, following the same rhythm as his plunging motions, sending an uncontrollable shiver through her in reaction. Her hands curled over his thighs, unconsciously grasping the tensely muscled limbs, using his legs for leverage to push against his rising and falling fingers. Stifling a moan as a fine tension infused her body, making her feel taut as a bowstring, one magnificent pluck away from a glorious crescendo.
Laying his lips against her arched neck, Ichigo scraped his teeth over the tightly stretched muscles as his wife strove with single-minded intensity to reach the bright pinnacle. Biting back a groan as she twisted against his hold, her voice reduced to breathlessly chanting, begging, and pleading for deliverance from her incredible torment. Tightening his grip and anchoring her trembling figure to his chest as the motion of his hands quickened, moving over her with focused intent. "Now Hime… Let go." He ordered harshly, his words rough and guttural as he pushed her mercilessly to the very peak before sending her soaring.
Almost as if she was waiting for his permission, her wide eyes staring blindly at the ceiling as indiscernible words spilled from her parted lips, she shuddered forcefully under his hands. Pulling in a sharp, hissing breath between his clenched teeth, he watched in fascination as his wife arched in his firm hold, her sweet voice brokenly crying out his name. Orihime jerked in his arms, causing water to splash heedlessly over the rim and her bottom to rub enticingly against him. Growling low in his throat as her soft curves pressed intimately against him, almost pushing him over the edge into sweet oblivion, he fought back a natural inclination to find release. 'But not like this dammit,' he silently groaned, squeezing his eyes shut, he focused on anything other than the woman under his hands until the feeling passed.
Blowing out a breath as Orihime slumped in his arms, quiet and content, Ichigo let his words whisper through her loose hair. "That has to be the most arousing sight ever."
"Hmm"
"Watching you shatter," Ichigo informed her as she lay boneless in his arms. He continued to smooth his hands over her curvy body, stirring up additional tremors. "The way your eyes lose focus and the rosy flush that stains your cheeks. Then there are those small, sexy cries that escape your mouth. No matter how hard you try and hold them back, they always slip out, praising my efforts."
"Shh, you're embarrassing me. It makes me sound like a total wanton." Orihime whispered shamefully, dropping her chin to her chest as her face flooded with bright color.
"Hell yes, my greedy woman." Tilting her face back and brushing his lips over her flushed cheeks as he murmured fervent words into her ear. "It's one of the many things that I love about you, how you turn all hot and needy, completely uninhibited."
Rolling her head on his shoulder to see him grinning down at her, quite pleased with himself for turning her into a mindless, instinctual creature once again. Her brows puckered in concern as she felt him throb insistently against her lower back. She lifted her hand, dripping water down his cheek as she leisurely ran her fingers over the stubble along his jaw, quietly inquiring, "But what about you, Ichigo, is it my turn yet?"
Dropping a kiss on her parted lips, he reached up and clasped her hand to his cheek, "Soon, Hime. We're going to finish this in bed." He assured her, a wide grin curling his lips. "I want plenty of room to maneuver."
Blinking her eyes in confusion, Orihime scrunched up her nose, "For you to maneuver, but I thought it was my turn?"
"It is, Sweetheart. But if you remember correctly, I let you have the greater part of my dinner and now I want to finish my meal." Ichigo purred out, sliding her hand from his cheek to his mouth, letting his words whisper from behind her slim digits. "So if you want your turn, you'll have to act fast, although we could turn it into reciprocal feast. Didn't I hear you complain that I never let you play with your food?" He inquired in mock curiosity before slipping her finger into his mouth and sucking lightly for a moment as her breath rushed out, drawing a devious grin from him as he laughed wickedly. "I know I fully intend to play with mine."
Her face flushed with sudden color as she stammered, "Y-you want to…to…" before dropping her chin and mumbling out that glorious number.
Grasping her chin, he tilted her head back, his eyes moving over her rosy cheeks and dazed expression. Arching a brow, Ichigo declared firmly, "Not, want to, my dear… going to."
"Ohh…" Her eyes flared wide at his ruthless statement as she stared at his determined face. Her breath panted out quietly as she sat up, clearly picturing the act her husband craved. The way his strong hands would curve around her hips, holding her tight as he lashed her with his tongue. How his groans of pleasure would vibrate through her sensitive flesh, heightening her own enjoyment as she lavished equal attention on him. Glancing over her shoulder at his chiseled features, Orihime nibbled on her lip for a moment before whispering out, "I get the top."
Watching his wife scramble from the tub, he licked his lips in anticipation as he stood, water cascading down his hard, primed body. Stepping out of the tub, he prowled in her wake, his longer strides quickly closing the distance between them. Ichigo pressed against his moist skinned goddess as she hurriedly dried herself off. Flicking the towel from her hands, he backed her to the bed, obediently acquiescing to her demands as he murmured with a wolfish smile, "Yes, Hime. Anything you say."
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A/N: Thank you for continuing to follow along with this story. I truly appreciate your support and encouragement. I have to apologize for teasing after the last chapter saying that I would have this chapter up quickly. I had every intention of putting it up on Friday, but unfortunately the past five days turned out to be more hectic than planned.
I'd like to send a big thank you out to all my reviewers, starting with the now named Demon General Alastor, Emuri, Lady Natsume, copperheadfightingninja (there's your requested smut :D), Dheeantzz, Babiip, Blitch, xNocturnalxShadowx, and JANET. Thanks, your feedback encourages me and gets me motivated to continue writing.
I'm hoping to have an update ready for TCBtD within the week, maybe…it's only half done. Although depending how the mood strikes me, I might finally get my tag-back finished and posted before Copper forgets what it was that she requested.
Thanks again –Rairakku Hana
