A/N: So…I take it you're ready for the next chapter now? Well, you're in luck, because it's here! (I'm sorry, I'm not sure what's happened to my brain…but don't worry, I'll rein it in before the actual chapter starts). *ahem* Anyway, just FYI, after this is only the epilogue. Please enjoy!

Disclaimer: Bleach is not mine. Not even a little bit.

Holding On

Chapter Twelve: No Holding Back

I won't be pushy, Orihime reminded herself. Ichigo was on his way over, as they had agreed to meet that night to work on their class project. It was the Friday before their anniversary, and neither of them had to work until mid-afternoon on Saturday. And since only Ichigo had had to work after school that day, it had seemed like the best time to get together.

I don't want to scare him off, or pressure him into anything, Orihime repeated silently. Granted, it was hard to imagine either of those things in conjunction with Ichigo, but she still didn't want to chance it. The step that she had decided she was ready to take was not a small one, and she wanted to approach her self-appointed mission delicately.

The first phase of this mission had involved a run to the drug store, which she had accomplished on Tuesday while Ichigo had been at work. Then she'd gone to the mall, in search of something to wear for the occasion, and she had been incredibly glad that she'd gone by herself, as she had barely been able to work up the nerve to go into the store, let alone to purchase anything. But now she was as ready as she could be, whether it happened that night or not for several more months.

Of course, Orihime was still nervous about the idea of putting her plan – such as it was – into motion.

She took a deep breath when Ichigo knocked on the door, telling herself to push her nerves aside, and quickly moved to let him in.

"Hi, Ichigo!" she greeted brightly, with a matching smile, as she stepped aside and let him in.

Ichigo grinned at her as he entered. He kicked off his shoes before reaching out with his free hand and tugging her to him. "Hey, Hime," he rumbled with his lips a hair's breadth from hers.

Their lips met and Orihime's toes curled in her slippers as she leaned into him. His hand curved around to the small of her back, holding her in place as his tongue rolled along hers. Orihime lifted her hands to frame his throat as she returned the kiss, trailing her tongue over his until she had penetrated the cavern of his mouth.

For a long moment Ichigo struggled with the nearly-overwhelming need to lift her from her feet, pin her to the back of her barely-closed door, and strip them both until their clothes were littering the floor.

But he couldn't do that, and so he pried his lips from hers, letting them linger as long as possible.

When his grip loosened, Orihime let herself fall back to her feet, and she smiled sweetly up at him as she asked, "How was work?"


Ichigo frowned as Orihime shifted her weight for the fourth time in barely fifteen minutes. He'd noticed, with a twinge of curiosity, that she'd seemed more fidgety than usual throughout the dinner she'd made them, but he'd brushed it off. Orihime was usually anxious for his opinion when she cooked for him, as if she were concerned that he wouldn't like her food. So Ichigo made a point to praise the meal (it wasn't hard; she was an amazing cook when she cooked 'normal').

But that didn't seem to put her anxiety at ease for more than a few minutes. And it came back in force after they had re-settled at the table, this time with their textbooks and notebooks spread out. And now Ichigo was starting to worry.

Something could be wrong, he thought. Orihime would never want to 'burden' him with something that was bothering her, but she would also know that he would want to know, and so that seemed like a very viable option.

She was playing with the ends of her hair now as she flipped through a textbook with her other hand. Her eyes were unfocused, and she was curling the strand of hair tightly around her finger, only to let it loosen before curling it again. And then she flipped right past the chapter they were supposed to be working from.

Alright, Ichigo decided, his concern winning out over his patience. Patience wasn't his strong suit, anyway.

Scowl firmly in place, Ichigo looked over at her and called, "Orihime."

She started, her hands freezing mid-motion, and looked over at him with wide, trying-not-too-be-guilty eyes. "Yes?" she squeaked.

His eyes narrowed subconsciously and he asked, "What's wrong?"

"Eh?" she asked immediately, blinking at him slowly for a second. Her eyes lit up with realization, then, and she released her hair as she exclaimed, "Oh, nothing! Sorry!"

Knowing that there was something, Ichigo assumed he'd asked the wrong question and pushed, "You know what I mean. What's going on? You skipped right past the chapter we need. And you've been fidgety all night. Is something on your mind?"

Orihime's eyes flicked to the book, and she slumped in obvious defeat when she realized she was somewhere in the middle of the third chapter past where they were supposed to be. Well this wasn't how it was supposed to come up, she thought with a slight pout. But she knew better than to hope he'd let it go at this point.

"Orihime?" he asked, proving her theory, even as he reached over and gently covered her nearest shoulder with one large hand.

His touch was radiating with concern, and his spiritual pressure had a familiar matching flare. Guilt swarmed her then; she hadn't wanted to worry him.

She sighed and lifted her eyes back to his. "I'm sorry, Ichigo," she began softly. "I really didn't mean to worry you, and I promise I'm alright. It's just…I've had this thing on my mind lately, and…I don't really know how to say it, but I know that I want to express it somehow and…I told myself I'd try tonight."

Ichigo's scowl deepened, though more in confusion than concern, as he retracted his hand and shifted to face her properly. "Is there something you wanted to talk to me about?"

Orihime opened her mouth, realized she had no idea how to properly and articulately answer his question, and clamped it shut again. She nodded, swallowed, and fisted her hands in her lap. What was I thinking? I can't do this! It's so embarrassing! But he was expecting an answer, and now that he knew there was something, he wouldn't accept 'it's nothing' or 'never mind.'

He didn't like her silence, or the fact that she could barely hold his gaze. He had no idea what was on her mind, but so far he wasn't feeling good about it. So he reached out and covered both of her hands with his, squeezing gently, as he said, "You can tell me, whatever it is. It's alright."

She took a deep breath and forced her eyes up to meet his. There was a flicker of something unusual in his eyes, something that looked like fear. And she realized suddenly that he could be massively misinterpreting her behavior. And then the words came flooding out of her mouth without warning or hesitation.

"Oh, no, it's nothing bad, I promise! It's just that I made a decision about something recently and I wanted you to know but I don't know how to tell you because I don't know how you feel about it yet and it's sort of really awkward to actually say out loud! But I just want you to know that I'm ready!"

She clamped her mouth shut as soon as the final word had spilled past the flood-gate. That was not how she'd meant to say it. Well…at least I said it.

Ichigo's eyes widened, first at the rush of words, and then at the content within them. As she'd been speaking, his hand had released hers, returning to his own lap. His hands shifted over his jeans, wiping against the denim as if they were covered in sweat, and he slowly repeated, "…Ready?"

Orihime nodded carefully, her lip pulled between her teeth. She was terrified of what else might pour out if she opened her mouth, and so she kept it locked tight.

"Ready…how?" Ichigo asked slowly. There was a strange tone in his voice, as if he either couldn't quite grasp her meaning or had convinced himself that he'd misunderstood it.

Knowing she would have to respond with words now, Orihime pulled in a breath before carefully releasing her lip and dropping her gaze to her lap as she quietly replied, "I, um, bought some things…for, you know, when we…or, for when you're ready, I mean. Which can be anytime! It doesn't have to be soon!"

She clamped her mouth shut again when she realized she was repeating the same horrifying behavior, only this time she squeezed her eyes shut, too. She didn't really want to see his reaction.

Ichigo couldn't decide if she was really talking about that, or if he was just too chock-full of hormones to think of anything else. And he was a bit afraid of making her more uncomfortable by asking for clarification. But he didn't know what else to do, because he certainly didn't trust himself enough to make assumptions.

And then something she had just said struck him, and before he could stop himself he blurted, "You bought birth control?" It was his turn to cringe a beat later, and he briefly squeezed his eyes shut. Great, now she's going to know why I'm distracted, and that'll just make this more awkward.

Orihime swallowed again and slowly lifted her head as she admitted, "Y-y-yes…."

Ichigo's brain shut down with that simple word. His eyes widened, he forgot how to breathe, and he was pretty sure that his heart stopped for several seconds. They hadn't been talking about two different things, then. And he didn't know how to handle that.

Or, more accurately, he didn't know how he should handle it. But he knew exactly how he wanted to handle it.

Their gazes held for several long seconds as they tried to process the conversation.

Then, deliberately, Ichigo reached out, grabbed Orihime's textbook, and flipped it shut. He pushed the book toward the center of the table, away from her, as he said, "We have the better part of a month to work on this project. It won't kill us not to start it until tomorrow."

Orihime swallowed when she realized what he meant. Her heart did a strange, nervous, and yet definitely anticipatory, dance, and she allowed a smile to slowly curve her lips. She pushed to her feet, then, and held out a hand toward her boyfriend.

Ichigo took her hand as he stood, and allowed Orihime to quietly lead him down the short hall of her apartment, toward her bedroom. His heart was slamming against his chest at the reality of what they were going to do, and his blood was already starting to burn through his veins.

She released his hand once they had crossed the threshold of her bedroom and turned to face him fully. Standing in her room with Ichigo, and knowing that he was thinking about the same thing she was, was doing a strange thing to her mind. Suddenly she wasn't so nervous (though she was still a little nervous), and suddenly she was curious to see just how accurate her earlier assumptions had been.

She wanted to know how much she really affected him.

"There's one more thing," she found herself saying, her voice soft but surprisingly stable. He blinked, clearly caught off-guard at her statement, and held her gaze silently. Since his question was obvious, Orihime continued. "I bought something else, too. But you'll have to tell me what you think."

As she spoke, Orihime quickly clenched and released her hands, pushing aside her final nerves. And then she reached back, easily finding the zipper of her knee-length dress, and tugged it down. As the fabric gently rolled off of her arms and pooled at her feet, a strange weight fell off of her as well and Orihime found confidence in her exposure – and in the look that had instantly clouded Ichigo's widened eyes.

Ichigo's eyes had widened when he realized what she was doing, and his tongue was stuck in his throat as the dress slowly – too slowly – fell to the floor. For a moment, his eyes followed the fabric, almost blind to the body that had been exposed to him. And then he re-focused, and he realized what, exactly, she was still wearing.

Orihime stood before him, clad in nothing but a thin, black lace bra and matching panties. The black stood out against her pale, creamy skin, and somehow emphasized the laciness of the fabric. And the lace was straining, stretched taut across her chest, and curved in a very snug fit around her hips.

Ichigo swallowed heavily, barely able to drag his eyes back up to hers. There was nothing in the world that he wanted more than to run his hands over her body – except, maybe, to help her out of that lingerie.

"So," Orihime began as she reflexively clasped her hands together behind her back, "what do you think?"

"Orihime," Ichigo choked. Something about hearing his own voice snapped him out of his haze, and suddenly Ichigo was in motion. He crossed the short distance between them, planted his hands on her hips, and lifted her straight out of her slippers as he latched his mouth onto hers.

Orihime melted into the kiss, immediately consumed by the fire she felt radiating off of him, and dragged her hands along his arms until her fingers were buried in his hair. He lifted her a little higher, and Orihime finally allowed her legs to wrap around his hips. She instinctively pulled herself closer even as his arms wound entirely around her, holding her tightly and pressing her up against his arousal.

One of Ichigo's hands lifted, tangling in her hair, while the other dipped lower and curved beneath her barely-clad bottom, supporting her as he moved. He had sucked her tongue into his mouth – or had she slipped it inside on her own? – and he ran his along hers as his feet finally found her futon. His knees found it a moment later, but he didn't feel the less-than-graceful impact as her nails dragged down the back of his throat.

Their lips tore apart when Orihime's head hit the pillow, Ichigo's arm tucked supportively behind her neck, and she moaned when Ichigo unintentionally rolled into her. Ichigo bit back a curse and let his forehead land on her shoulder, where he sucked in heavy, ragged breaths of her scent.

He didn't want to take her like some wild animal; he wanted to make love to her. This was their first time – together or individually – and it was the only first time they were ever going to have. He wanted to do it right. He wanted her to be able to think back on this night, several years from then, and remember it with a smile. A smile accompanied by that soft, gentle, breathless little sigh that she released whenever she thought of a happy memory.

"I take it," Orihime began, still faintly gasping for breath, "that you approve?"

Ichigo rumbled with silent laughter and lifted his head, feeling slightly more in control, and offered her a grin. "God yes. Black is definitely your color."

Orihime giggled, smiling in a disturbingly seductive way, and traced one finger along the shell of his ear as she said, "Good. But I hope you like the red one, too."

"You bought two?" Ichigo asked incredulously. He had half a mind to tell her to go put the red one on, just so he could see it before he got her naked. Because, once she was naked, she was not putting anything on until the morning.

She pulled the corner of her lip between her teeth and faintly shook her head. "No. They were having a sale, so I bought four."

For a moment, Ichigo wasn't even sure he could count that high. Four? He swallowed, a familiar throbbing distracting him for a moment, and then he managed, "What…other colors…did you get?"

"They had a pretty royal blue," Orihime said, "and I really liked the white."

"Well," Ichigo found himself saying, his voice thick and his mouth dry, "it'll be a few days before I can tell you which one is my favorite, then."

Her eyes shining with seductive mischief, Orihime said, "And you should definitely have a good impression of each, just to be fair. So you should probably look at the black one again before you forget it."

"That means getting up," Ichigo pointed out, not at all inclined to move any further away from her body.

Giggling, Orihime nodded and trailed her hands down to the collar of his shirt, tugging as she said, "You're still wearing too much, anyway."

She was right, he realized, and so Ichigo reluctantly pulled back. When he was on his knees, and her legs and loosened and fallen to the futon, he unbuckled his belt, fisted his shirt in both hands, and yanked it off in one fluid motion. He paused, his hands already hooked into the sides of his pants, when he saw Orihime staring at his chest.

She licked her lips slowly, her eyes slightly glazed over, and he was reminded oddly of the way she stared at sweets. Only (and it was possible he was biased), he was pretty sure this look was more intense. But it did nothing to ease the ache in his jeans. So he stood up, undid his jeans, and kicked them off, in the direction of his shirt.

He paused to step out of his socks, intending to return to her once they were in equivalent amounts of clothing, but before he could move Orihime had shifted, moving to her knees. Her lip was entirely between her teeth again, and she wasn't trying to hide the fact that her eyes were glued to a very specific part of his anatomy. He didn't know what to do, because he couldn't process what she was doing, and so he remained still as she crawled closer.

Orihime lifted her hands, swallowing heavily as her fingertips made contact with the bare skin above his boxers. His muscles twitched and she sucked in a breath, but she pressed her fingers more firmly against his skin, almost testing it, before lowering them to the hem of his only remaining piece of clothing. Her thumbs ran along the edge of the fabric, and then she hooked her fingers entirely over the sides.

Carefully, oh-so-carefully, Orihime eased the fabric down until it could fall the rest of the way on its own.

She looked up at him, then, to gauge his reaction to her boldness, and found him watching her with a strangely mystified look on his face. It wasn't disbelief, or shock, but there were elements of each, both buried heavily by anticipation. She continued to watch him as she slowly trailed her hands back up his thighs, and he swallowed, breathing deeply. And then her fingers brushed, just a little, over the base of his arousal, and it seemed like every muscle in his body twitched.

Orihime paused, briefly, but when he made no move – or sound – to stop her, she returned her gaze to the sight in front of her and carefully wrapped her hand entirely around him. He tensed, and one hand landed on her shoulder, but again he didn't try to stop her. So she squeezed slightly and pulled her hand forward, and as her hand moved a strangled, appreciative sound tore from his throat.

Her other hand moved around his arousal and cupped him, squeezing again just a little, and she simultaneously repeated the previous motion with her first hand. This time his hand clenched, slightly, over her shoulder and his hips attempted to buck forward. She repeated this process a couple of times, each time dragging a similar sound from his throat, and then she dragged her thumb across his tip. He sucked in a breath, and she knew she was going to do it.

Orihime released his member after one final squeeze, and then she leaned forward, closed her eyes, and fearlessly wrapped her lips around him. Her tongue swirled around his tip, before slowly sliding down one side until she had taken in as much as she could. One hand returned to cover the base, and as it squeezed, she swirled her tongue again and sucked.

Ichigo couldn't bite back the groan of pleasure, his eyes closing tightly as he attempted not to thrust into her mouth. His other hand unclenched and tangled in her hair without conscious direction, faintly guiding her motions as she continued to move along him. Her tongue was doing things that shouldn't have been possible, and it was all he could do not to surge forward.

And then, without warning, he was flying. He cried out, choking on her name as his muscles froze, unintentionally holding her in place for several seconds. His hips bucked, thankfully only a little, several times as his body instinctively sought to ride out the wave of unbelievable pleasure.

Orihime was surprised when Ichigo's hands suddenly locked around her and his hips finally began moving along with her mouth, filling her almost too much before receding and surging forward again. And then there was something else in her mouth, something liquid-like, and the sound of Ichigo's strangled cry filled her ears. She had done it.

She kept the liquid in her mouth, slowly dragging her tongue along him as she pulled back, releasing him entirely and sitting back on her haunches. She dared to drag her eyes up, then, and meet his hooded gaze. As he stared at her, still breathing raggedly, she sloshed the liquid around, tasting it, before swallowing it all at once.

"Fuck, Hime," Ichigo grunted, shifting his hold until he had tugged her to her feet. She was barely standing, and had opened her mouth to speak, when his lips crashed over hers hungrily. His body might have been taking a minute to recover, but the fire in his blood hadn't cooled. In fact, if it was possible, he needed her even more desperately than he had before.

Orihime nearly lost herself in his kiss, her soul melting against his passion, as she let him devour her mouth. His hands were roaming all over her back and sides, slowing over her bottom to follow her natural curves and trace the edges of her panties, before burning a path back up her spine.

She felt his fingers begin to fumble with the clasp of her bra and (barely) remembered her plan. It wasn't quite his turn to be in charge yet. Though she did fully intend to give him the reins – and soon.

So, with some reluctance, Orihime placed one palm flat over his chest and pulled back from the kiss. "Wait," she breathed softly.

Ichigo's hand stilled instantly as his eyes searched for hers. His thoughts were obvious – he was curious about her command, and concerned that he'd done something wrong.

Orihime smiled, the gesture half-sweet and half-seductive, and gently eased out of his embrace, taking a step backwards.

She held his gaze as she reached up, then, her arms curving behind her, and unclasped her bra. She watched his face as his eyes dropped from hers, transfixed by the dark fabric as it moved over her skin. And then she shrugged out of it, flicking her wrist to toss it aside, and she watched as he pulled in a breath and swallowed again. He continued watching as she hooked her thumbs beneath the fabric at her hips and shimmied – with deliberate slowness – out of the panties. Again, they were tossed aside.

The only coherent thought that Ichigo could think was that she was beautiful. He'd already known it, of course, but the creature standing before him was without a doubt the most beautiful, and innately sexy, creature that had ever walked the earth. And she was his. She would always be his. All he had to do was claim her.

The look on Ichigo's face made Orihime's already-racing heart start tap-dancing against her ribcage. It was the strangest, most heartwarming, mixture of tenderness, adoration, desire, and raw power that she had ever seen. And she doubted that any other man could pull it off.

Taking an anticipatory breath, Orihime moved into the final phase of her 'First Night' plan and took a single step forward. She saw Ichigo's hand twitch as he clearly thought about reaching out for her, but she simply smiled and lowered once more to her knees. This time, however, she shifted until she was once again on her back, her head against the pillow. And then she held out one hand, reaching for him.

Ichigo watched, mesmerized, as she positioned herself back on the futon. It was as if there was no end to the creamy expanse of skin that was suddenly bare to him, and he couldn't wait to have it beneath his hands and lips. And then she was reaching for him, beckoning to him, and he knew exactly what she wanted. It was the same thing that he wanted. The same thing he was beginning to think that they had both been wanting for a while.

He moved forward, closing the distance between them as he dropped to his knees and slowly crawled over her. He was already settled between her thighs, and the sensation of having her bare body pressing and sliding against his was almost too much. And then he was looking once more into her eyes, propped above her by his forearms, and she was smiling up at him.

"I love you," she murmured, her voice soft and sweet.

Ichigo lowered his head until their noses were touching, their breaths mingling, and he quietly replied, "I love you, too, Hime."

Their lips met a moment later in a surprisingly slow, tender kiss. They moved together, lips barely parted, as Orihime's arms curved around his back. Her hands danced along his muscles, tracing and caressing at an equally slow, lingering pace. After a moment, one of his hands moved and began sliding down her bare side. His fingers brushed the side of her breast, and Orihime moaned against his mouth.

Ichigo's hand continued along its path, fingers skimming along the curve of her hip before changing course and moving toward her center. He reached between their bodies, then, and slowly traced his fingers along her opening. Orihime's hands clenched over his back, her body arching at the light touch, and her tongue finally slipped into his mouth.

He shifted as they kissed, his body once again straining to join with hers, and he allowed himself to slip one finger inside of her.

Orihime's lips tore from his as she sucked in a breath, her eyes closed as her hips rose to meet his hand. If one finger felt this good, she was almost afraid of what it would feel like when they were properly joined. But she wanted to know – desperately. And she gasped his name, attempting to tell him so, as he inserted a second finger and began a slow, easy rhythm.

Ichigo's lips found her throat, beneath her jaw, and he slowly began kissing and licking his way down the slender column. Her skin was sweet on his tongue and he knew if he never tasted anything else in his life he would die a happy man. But that didn't mean he was anywhere near ready to go – he had some important things to accomplish, and right at the top of that list was making her gasp his name again.

After a long minute of slowly, leisurely pumping his fingers into her core, Ichigo withdrew his hand. Orihime whimpered faintly beneath him, though she was still breathing heavily and her cheeks were flushed when Ichigo lifted his head from her throat. He remembered the sight of her, kneeling before him, as she'd swallowed his release. And he remembered thinking there had been no more erotic sight in all the world. So he couldn't help but wonder what she would think as he took his time licking his fingers clean of her essence.

"Ichigo," Orihime breathed, one thumb rubbing along the back of his shoulder as she deliberately lifted one leg against his just slightly.

Ichigo couldn't help but smirk as he pulled his second finger from his mouth, taking the time to swallow before he returned his hand to her side and murmured, "Are you ready for me, Hime?"

"Yes," Orihime gasped, curling her fingers into his heated flesh as she added, "please."

He leaned down and captured her lips in a fierce kiss as his hand gripped her hip and his body tensed. He wasn't so lost in the moment that he'd forgotten what he knew; he knew she would be in pain for a minute. And he fervently wished they could somehow skip that part, but they couldn't, and he also knew that neither of them was willing to stop at this point. Not for something that would still be there the next time they tried.

With his lips still covering hers, Ichigo shifted and plunged inside of her.

Their lips tore apart, Ichigo doing his best to bite back a groan from the pleasure that was immediately searing through him, and Orihime unable to completely swallow her outcry as she suddenly found herself filled in the most intimate of ways. She sucked in several breaths as her body adjusted and the pain slowly receded, until she was just as suddenly on fire.

"Hime?" Ichigo asked, his lips beside her ear and his voice strained. He had locked his body in place, not wanting to hurt her further, but it was hard. Every instinct he possessed was screaming at him to move.

Orihime lifted one hand and slid her fingers into his hair as she gasped, "It's okay…." She followed her declaration with a soft moan as she took the initiative and rolled her hips forward. They both groaned and Ichigo's lips latched onto her throat again as he took the hint and let his instincts take over.

He tried moving slowly at first, sliding in and out of her at a lingering, sensual pace, and Orihime's head fell back as her body met his rhythm easily. Guttural moans of pleasure fell past their lips and her hands slid down his back as their bodies rolled together.

And then Ichigo's hand released her hip and slid up, over the smooth plane of her stomach, until he could wrap his fingers around her breast. Orihime arched into his hand almost immediately, her hips lifting from the futon a little more eagerly. He dragged his thumb across her nipple even as he sucked on her pulse-point, and Orihime released a new sound that went right through him.

Ichigo's restraint was about at its end, and so he released her breast after a final squeeze, trailing his hand lower until he could curve his arm entirely around her back. The new grip pressed their bodies completely together, crushing her breasts to his chest, and Orihime's legs lifted, wrapping around his hips as Ichigo's mouth found hers again.

They kissed desperately, hungrily, as their hips slammed together. Any sense of time was lost as he thrust into her, her legs locking behind him and her tongue rolling across his. His hand was latched onto her opposite hip as he held her impossibly close, her own hands curled tightly over his spine.

He surged inside of her over and over again, her hips eagerly rising to welcome him with each powerful thrust. They could barely breathe with their mouths locked together, their heartbeats echoing in their ears, as the sound of muffled moans and sweaty skin on sweaty skin filled the room.

The tension was coiled unbelievably tight in the pit of her stomach, and Orihime suspected that Ichigo felt much the same way as he continued to thrust into her. He filled her completely, sheathing himself to the hilt each time, and each time they came a little, tantalizing bit closer.

And then they were falling. Or perhaps flying. That desperately-needed horizon was suddenly behind them and all they could feel was indescribable, impossible bliss. Nothing in the world mattered at all for a long minute except for that glorious feeling, a feeling neither wanted to end.

Orihime's outcry of pleasure echoed in Ichigo's ears, encouraging his body to continue slowly moving within hers even as his muscles shuddered with the power of his orgasm. He didn't even hear his own exclamation, didn't even realize he'd called her name, as all he could hear was his own name rolling off her tongue.

Orihime was finally able to re-focus, her breathing still incredibly ragged, as Ichigo slowly stilled within her. Her body ached in the most incredible way, and a part of her wanted nothing more than to wait – exactly as they were – until they had the energy to do it again. Her mind was mush, and all she could see was orange hair and tanned skin as Ichigo managed – somehow – to remain braced above her.

Ichigo knew his arm was about to give out, and that if he fell he would end up crushing her, but he couldn't work up the energy – or the motivation – to move. He never wanted to be anywhere else.

He swallowed heavily and shifted his head so that his lips were once again beside her ear, and he murmured, "I may never let you out of this bed again."

Orihime giggled breathlessly against him, one of her hands absently running through his hair, and she said, "I think I could be persuaded to agree to that."

He grinned beside her and tilted his head so that he could press his lips against her throat.

"When do you have to go home?" Orihime asked softly, feeling ridiculously comfortable despite the should-be-awkward position they were still in. She didn't want him to go yet.

"After work tomorrow," Ichigo rumbled, trailing his lips lower on her throat without thought.

Orihime couldn't muster the focus to scrunch her face thoughtfully as his lips teased her skin again. "But…won't you get…in trouble?" It was incredibly hard to speak, she realized, when he was kissing her like that.

"Don't know," Ichigo replied honestly, pausing to slide his tongue over the hollow at the base of her throat. "Don't care, either. I'll just throw my clothes in the wash next time I get up, and leave in time for work." He punctuated his decision by latching his lips onto her pulse-point and sucking.

Orihime gasped, her hands tightening over his skin again. If he keeps this up…! But it was too late, she realized. That coil was already beginning to tighten again inside her stomach.

Ichigo dragged his lips back up to her ear, not at all unaware of her shifting and renewed heavy breathing beneath him, and after trailing his tongue along the shell, he murmured, "I'm not done with you yet, Hime."

"Thank goodness," Orihime breathed. "Because I wasn't going to let you pull away after that."

Ichigo chuckled, the sound deep and sensual and vibrating up from his chest, and shifted so that he could look into her eyes again. With a smirk, he leaned down until they were almost kissing and whispered, "I hope you weren't planning on getting a lot of sleep tonight."

Orihime grinned beneath him and teased, "Nu-uh. In fact, I'm going to see to it that you fall asleep first."

"Are you sure it's a good idea to challenge me, Hime?" Ichigo warned, his eyes laughing and swirling with something both tender and hungry.

"You don't scare me, Ichigo Kurosaki," Orihime assured him, leaning up and quickly planting a chaste kiss on his lips.

His eyes darkening in an incredibly sensual way, Ichigo rumbled, "You asked for it," and claimed her lips once more in a powerful kiss.

Sleep was overrated anyway.

To Be Concluded…

A/N: Whew, that ended up being longer than I thought it would! (By a lot! LOL) But I hope you enjoyed it! ^_~ Anyway, yes, sadly, this story's about done. Next up: the epilogue! So, go review this chapter (please!) and then go read the end!