Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach. If I did, well, I wouldn't be writing fanfics would I!

Author's Note: My entry to the Church of Lemons 2010, if you saw it there.

Thank you reviewers, for fueling my flame to write more and more!

Special thanks for F1yMordecai for edits! Special thanks to Firisu for having my back, finding even more mistakes! Yay!

Setting: Bleach Timeline-ish

Rating: M, obviously, it's a lemon! YOU ARE WARNED!

I love

Chapter 14: I love how he changed her world

-

It started with a lick. A lick that was warm and hot. A lick infused with steamy breath. A lick full of intent.

Lick.

Then came that sound.

Tuh.

It was the wet resonance of the tongue pulling from the palate. It was also the echo of the pink muscle retracting from the skin.

Now, return to the previous act.

Lick. Tuh.

She giggled. And she hardly ever giggled. "Stop that. I told you, I'm fine."

He did not.

Lick. Tuh. Lick. Tuh.

"That tickles."

Then suddenly he breathed into her neck, sucking in so much air as if preparing to dive in water. The wet spot made by his tongue coolly burned without his breath or his mouth and she shuddered. Not too much, but enough that he noticed.

"You shouldn't have come," Ichigo said. He pushed himself closer to her when she leaned up to his mouth. "I mean, you shouldn't have tried to fight in your gigai."

At his words, her legs clamped around him. At her action, his hand travelled down to her lower back. There, he made small circles with his index finger before his hands moved upwards to her face.

The school day wasn't supposed to end up like this – licking, kissing, sucking each other. No, the school day was supposed to end with goodbyes and waves to their classmates, but they had left to fight a hollow earlier at midday. There were actually more than one, but after they had kicked monster asses, the pair had returned to an empty classroom. Then Rukia found herself half-indecent and exposed to him.

So, the hollows were a little smarter than she thought. In the end, the shinigami had earned a scrapped knee, a bruised elbow, and two or three cuts along her arms. To Rukia, the minor injuries did not warrant a whole body examination, but she couldn't really stop him when Ichigo looked at her like that– you should be safe, I'm supposed to protect, are you hurt, idiot?

Rukia blinked a few times before she rubbed herself against him. The stiffness made her smile, but a laugh erupted from her throat when his knee slammed against the desk leg in an effort to get closer to the person he desired the most.

Her.

"Why shouldn't I fight? I am a shinigami. It's my job." Rukia didn't sound angry and well, it was hard to when you were sitting on the school desk, shirt opened, and assaulted by sexy mouth and teeth. "You're… supposed to be checking for marks…" Rukia gasped when he bit down gently on her neck. "N-not making them…"

Tuh. That was the sound of the mouth pulling away from wet skin. Ichigo looked down at her face and slowly, his lips dipped in a frown. The sun's ray easily seeped in the room, highlighting his messy, tangerine hair and amber eyes. The light also made his apologetic look seem genuine. "Sorry… I got…carried away?" The hands on her arms moved to her shoulders, where he gently squeezed. He didn't know why he did that. Partly because he wanted her to see his sincerity, and partly because he wanted to taste her again.

Rukia fought not to smile. She was good at keeping her face neutral too, even when she played sexy by leaning back with palms against the school desk. "Don't make it sound like a question. You are getting carried away." To add fuel to the flame, her milky legs tightened around him and she let her lips curve towards the ceiling.

The substitute shinigami returned the expression well, full of mischief, play, and want. As his fingers touched the edge of her top, Ichigo simply told her, "I can't help it," before peeling the fabric away from her. Without permission, his eyes lingered down to her chest clad in a white bra but otherwise well exposed.

Kuchiki swallowed hard, hoping he would fail to notice the pink flushing of her cheeks.

Kurosaki actually didn't notice. The young man was too engrossed in tracing her collarbone to take heed, or for once, he simply chose not to say anything. What caught his attention was something faint, pale pink, and as long as his index finger. It was a scar close to her heart.

Tuh. That was the sound of her tongue retracting from the palate. "Why can't I examine you?" Her violet gaze was set on his fingers running gentle lines on her mark. Her smile faltered a bit. "You're the one who fought the hollow."

Kurosaki's stare was also set on her scar but amber flickered in her direction when he reminded her, "I was in my soul body. Wounds healed quickly. Not my fault you forgot your soul candy."

Tuh. Rukia almost pouted, but she saved such an act for Chappy merchandise. Instead, she decided to counterbalance the fluttering in her stomach by inducing some butterflies in him too. But how? She wasn't sure. She could rub herself on him—that would definitely get him excited. But…

Ah! She figured it out!

Tuh.

As he stood like a statue studying her scar, her small hand slipped under his shirt. Ichigo didn't make a sound as that hand slid up his abdomen, stroking heat and calling butterflies. His stomach quivered, and that was enough for now.

"Ichigo…" Her hand continued to play with the planes of his rock hard stomach, searching and probing and caressing. It wasn't long for her to find it, the most noticeable scar marking his body. It was as lengthy as two of her fingers touching tip to tip, and bulged subtly from his uninjured skin as the flesh had healed over each other, now glossy and bumpy. The keloid texture may have put some people off, but Rukia had a deep fascination and respect for this mark. It served as a profound reminder of who he was – a warrior – and to where and why he received this old wound:

Soul Society.

The pair just stayed like that for a moment, their hands on each other's scars. Her heartbeat began to jog a bit just by watching something in his eyes change – glittering, shining, softening. It wasn't lust. It was more profound than just that. Rukia watched with wonder as that look turned to action – Ichigo bent down and pressed his lips against her scar. In a sure long stroke, he licked the aged wound as if his tongue held powers to heal.

Tuh.

"I thought we're supposed to lick each other's wounds." Rukia didn't know why she phrased it like that but it was true. When she met him, he treated her like a normal person, not a person of nobility.

Lick.

After he saved her from execution, her relationship with Nii-sama and estranged friend Renji turned for the better.

Lick.

And she… well, she gave him the power to protect.

Lick.

She stopped his rain. He stopped hers.

Lick.

Basically, he had managed to change her world as she changed his – one lick at a time.

"Ichigo…"

His mouth was patient, kind and slightly inexperienced, as he placed feathery kisses and wet licks down her shallow valley and over her belly. Ichigo murmured something against her flesh – she wasn't sure what – and he pressed his hands by her sides. It was a warning of sorts — a warning that he was planning on doing something to her and his hands were there to keep her still.

First, the tongue dipped in and over the ridges of her ribs.

Lick. Tuh.

The tongue went around her navel, tracing circles.

Lick. Tuh.

She even thought he was going to remove her bra and savage her breasts, but he didn't. His tongue caressed her lower belly, and she found herself trembling.

It would be a complete lie to say he wasn't doing much, because tasting was a lot of things – it involved the tongue, mouth, teeth. Her mind was slowly losing focus. It seemed like he was done talking to her anyways, especially when she felt his fingers rubbing against her panties.

"Ich—" Involuntarily, her pelvis moved in and out of his hands, relishing the pace – the flame – he set fanned by his fingers. Rukia could feel that heat spread across her face with each passing moment, and soon she began to ache.

"Ichigo." Their eyes met and she wasn't sure if she liked the semi-grin of his lips. Nonetheless, she seemed to understand him wordlessly when she lifted herself up to let him tug the cotton fabric down. She even spread her legs apart, only to have him stretch it further for his hungry mouth.

The throbbing only would intensify from here.

As his fingers danced at her swollen bulb, her back fell flush against the wood. Her heart raced with anticipation – first with his hot breath fanning her opening, and then he kissed her.

It wasn't her mouth he was kissing but he kissed her there as if it was, gently, slowly, sensually. His hands kept her legs spread because though the heat growing was gradual, he would have hated if she closed her iron knees on his head. She was a kick-ass shinigami after all.

"Ichi-go…ahh…"

Unlike the other times she had said his name, her voice was breathy and needy, making him change pace. He began to kiss her in the way you wouldn't kiss the mouth. He licked and explored, trying different things. He judged his progress by the sounds she made and how much she writhed. The good thing about learning from each other was well…you try everything.

Even biting.

Kuchiki yelped when he clamped on her thigh, and Ichigo did not apologize. His name on her pink lips was all he needed to take the plunge again. This time, his mouth between her legs was rougher. His white teeth pressed into her pink shell, worrying at her with pulls, bites, and licks. It was the kind of treatment that made Rukia shake and cry out. It was the kind of treatment that she needed to fist onto something; usually that would be bed sheets but all she had were the steel legs of the table.

So be it.

But what to do with her head? As it was, her head was pressed hard against the desk that was she was even foolishly afraid she might crack it, somehow. Pillows usually don't break easily—

Fuck it, destroy the classroom! Can't. Think. Anymore.

Tuh.

Can't…

Lick.

Tuh!

That heat was rolling, climbing, building steadily, up and up. Her pussy was weeping translucent liquid that he tasted with fervor.

Tuh! Tuh!

The pressure was intensifying like the beginning flickers of an orgasm, promising the pleasure that was to come.

Tuh!

Ichigo finished with a lick from the back to front that made her moan out all over again. Rukia finished with her pelvis shot towards him, back bowed and voice strangled for breath and for words.

Lick.

When Rukia saw his arrogant mouth shining, grinning while she shook and burned, something tightened in her lower body…again. "Ichi—go."

Ichigo pulled up her boneless self by the arm. Silently, he nuzzled her throat, his mouth skinned her slender neck, and his fingers moved inside her gently. Without thinking, she bucked against him, aching once more. When one of her hands reached out for his own desire and felt his hardness, she knew he was throbbing too. "Do it," she breathed, her mind growing hazier. "S-stop teasing."

A sound like a breathless laugh escaped his mouth at her state, but she was right. He was aching, aching to go inside of her, erupt, and to fill her. He was aching to make her scream, complete her and heal her. Wasting no more time, the petite shinigami bunched her skirt to her waist as Ichigo unfastened his pants buckle. The brown cloth fell to the floor and with the elegance of the waves riding up a sandy shore, he moved into her.

Her eyes shut tight, as if expecting some sort of white light to protrude from their souls like on the first night they met. Instead, a different light came. It was the light of pleasure, riding in her, through her, for her. But Ichigo was slow, resisting the urge to slam into her as his soul warranted. He was no expert on women or sex, but Ichigo was very perceptive to her feelings, watching her emotions change based on his movements and his actions. So he waited, moving gently in the way he started to lick at her wounds before changing her world.

It wasn't long before Rukia was ready for the earth to shake. She wanted more light. "Move, deeper." One hand gripped on his shoulder for some sort of balance. The other fisted his uniform shirt. "Deeper."

Ichigo did what he was told. With a grunt, he shoved himself as deep inside of her as he could. With every stroke, he pressed harder, faster. With every movement, he growled, or groaned – she wasn't exactly sure what, but they were incoherent sounds that echoed hers as well.

Then several things began to happen and it wasn't the climax to the ministrations yet. It was the light consuming her; it was her vocal cries and writhing; it was his hand pulling on her midnight hair. The latter provoked her head to bow backwards. Ichigo took his chance and dove in again, into her mouth.

It was harder to kiss like this, with raging breaths, hearts pounding at the seams, soul threatening to escape from bodies, but they managed for a moment. Messy, wet, passionate, it was all of that—.

Tuh!

The rhythm grew fast, so fast that he had to rip his mouth away from hers. Rukia gripped onto his arms, pushing into and pulling from him to meet the deepest strokes. It was no wonder that her rear was half on the desk, half in the air with him. In due time, the shinigami found herself fighting the zenith when her pussy twitched, threatening to cave on him. She was waiting for Ichigo to lose that rhythm, lose control, fuck her hard until he drove them mad—mad enough to blind them into whiteness again.

And when that time came, without his mouth on hers her scream was long and ragged. She shook against him, his body buried deep in her liquid core that gripped around him like a vice. Her head became light as rapture scorched her soul with a benevolent force. That force seemed familiar… So familiar. But to what that force was she didn't have the energy to think. She just reveled in it.

Ichigo came too. Convulsing, he emptied his seeds with a vein swollen on the forehead and a face red and hot. His arm hugged her tight against him, shaking and breathing hard enough for both of them to hear.

Healed. Hot. Empty.

Drained, Rukia sagged against him.

Filled. Hot. Healed.

They remained still for a moment because that's all they could do. Their bodies were soft and worn. Sweat dripped from their heads and under their clothes. Their breaths and the heavy thumping of their hearts were the only sounds in the room. Even the birds seemed to cease their songs.

Time stood still for a moment.

"Rukia…"

She stirred.

"Rukia…" Recovery was apparent when he was able to slide his hands in the glistens of sweat on her back. "Rukia." Ichigo exhaled harshly, his chin rested on her head. "Is it wrong to let me just…enjoy you?"

At the prospect that he was really speaking to her again, a dark eyebrow arched, and for some reason she swallowed hard once again. It must be the way he said that with the husky voice filled with lust, care and unbridled need.

"N-no." Mentally, Rukia noted that the heat along her cheeks seemed to simmer longer than the heat inflamed throughout her whole body. Or was that because of his voice? His question? "It's not." Then it dawned on her; Ichigo was talking about her question.

I thought we're supposed to lick each other's wounds.

"So just let me enjoy you then."

Ichigo was right; she wasn't the only world-changer.

Let me take care of you.

She could lick away at his wounds another day.

Let me be your rock.

That was what partners were for, wasn't it? That was what lovers were for? Taking care of each other in every way possible.

"Fine," she sighed. Her starless black hair tickled his chin when she shifted and held onto him tightly. Then she smiled when he began to dress her. Rukia helped by elevating herself enough for him to pull her Chappy underwear back to the right place. Following that motion, she interlocked her legs onto him.

"Again?" Ichigo teased. His tongue flickered her cheek before kissing the corner of her mouth.

Lick.

"You're a death god, not a sex god." Rukia was amused. "But when you're ready again, I want to lick some of your wounds."

His forehead touched hers and his eyes watched indigo with the intention to bore her soul. "What happens when the wounds are all healed?" What's there left?

Rukia didn't answer Kurosaki at first; instead, she observed the shadow under his hair and the dark flecks in his irises. "Licking is just the beginning."

Ichigo nodded, smirked, and moved for a kiss. Swiftly, her pink tongue tasted his lower lip.

Lick. Tuh.

He agreed. It was just the beginning.

---

Author's Note: Hope you enjoyed that. I'm not sure when I'm going to update next. Maybe once every two weeks since school is hectic (though with outstanding support it's hard not to write and update). I also wanted to start an experiment:

Can GD learn to draw?

So in one of my classes my Prof is making us draw. I want to cover a scene from each 'I love' chapter, and I'll post it on my Deviantart account. I guess we'll discover if I can get better, though drawing Ichigo is not easy. The other problem is I'm a lazy artist; I'm lazy to do things I'm not good at basically. Haha.

Anyways, preview for next chapter:

Chapter 16: I love that Urahara sees it (tentative title)

Urahara coughed once before fanning himself again. "Kuchiki-san! I didn't mean to be rude. Sit sit, let's talk. Tell me what the problem is." He ushered Rukia to drink tea with him and then had an almost horrifying thought. "It's not a girl problem, is it?"

Rukia bit the inside of her lip. "Sort…of…"

End of excerpt

Thank you for reading! I adore some reader love and encouragement and review please, if it ain't too much to ask for!! I'd also love to hear your reasons for loving Ichigo and Rukia together!

Kisses~