AN
Hi there! Sorry this took so long but I'm busier than ever these days. Anyway, here's the next chapter.
Disclaimer-I own nothing.
Warning-Wild, dirty sex ahead and a character death.
No Escape
Chapter 20
Momo pulled into Mashiro's neighborhood around five a.m. Her body ached with exhaustion, which had forced her to pull over at a rest stop for a few hours last night. Beside her, Natsuki was sleeping.
The neighborhood was filled with homes that all looked the same in the dark. They weren't very big, but they were all new, with neat, clean lines and manicured landscaping. Even with all the leaves gone, the neighborhood looked fresh and full of hope.
Mashiro was a lucky woman.
Momo found the right house and parked on the street out front. She didn't want to ring the doorbell yet and wake Mashiro up, so she'd just wait until she saw a light go on in the dark house.
Her car was almost out of gas, so she turned it off and tucked the blanket more tightly around Natsuki, praying the engine would start again if they needed more heat.
She leaned her heavy head back against the seat and closed her eyes. She must have fallen asleep, because she woke up when she heard a car door slam shut nearby. One of the neighbors was getting into his truck.
The sky had started to lighten, and a quick glance at Mashiro's house, now lit up from inside, told her it was time to see if their friendship was still there, or whether she'd burned all her bridges with Mashiro.
"Time to wake up and go inside, baby."
Natsuki opened her eyes and nodded. Momo bundled her up in the blanket and led her to the door.
If Mashiro turned them away, she wasn't sure what she'd do next. She had nowhere else to go.
With a quick prayer for luck, Momo rang the doorbell.
The chime seemed loud in the quiet stillness of morning. A few seconds later, the door opened and Mashiro stood there in her bathrobe, her lime green hair mussed from sleep and her eyes wide with shock. "Momo? What are you doing here?"
"I'm in trouble, Mashiro. I was hoping I could come in and talk to you about it."
Mashiro's hand fluttered to her throat. "Now isn't a great time."
"I know it's early, but this is important."
"You don't understand," said Mashiro, shooting a quick glance at Natsuki. "You really should go."
A cold, bleak despair washed over Momo. "Please, Mashiro. I know I wasn't always a good friend to you, but I really need your help."
"Princess?" came a man's deep voice from somewhere behind Mashiro. "Who is it?"
Momo knew that voice. She knew that deceptively gentle tone. Princess. It's what he had called her, too.
He was here.
His head appeared over Mashiro's shoulder, looking as handsome as ever. When he saw them, a cocky grin lifted one side of his mouth. "Well, looky who's here."
Natsuki's small body went still and a pained, strangling noise came out of her.
Momo didn't understand. She stood there in shock for an awkward moment before the gears in her head started to spin again.
"What is he doing here?" asked Momo.
"I live here now," he said. "Nice place, isn't it?" He looped an arm over Mashiro's shoulders. "We're getting married this spring."
Married. Mashiro and him were getting married. Momo knew he'd cheated on her with Mashiro, not to mention all the others, but she'd never thought it was serious. Apparently, she'd been wrong.
Not that she cared who he married, other than the fact that whoever it was would suffer. No one deserved him, especially not Mashiro.
Natsuki started to shake. "You promised," she whispered so low Momo didn't think anyone but her could hear it.
She'd promised not to send Natsuki back to her daddy, and here he was.
"This was a mistake," Momo managed to choke out. "I'm sorry." She took Natsuki's hand and pulled her back toward the car.
Before she managed to get the door unlocked and get Natsuki inside, Mashiro was there, her eyes pleading for forgiveness. "Don't go, Momo. Come inside. You drove all this way for a reason-you might as well tell me what it was."
"Never mind. It was clearly a mistake."
"If I'd known you were coming, I would have met you somewhere else. Why didn't you call?"
Momo buckled Natsuki's seat belt and spared a quick glance into her daughter's face. It was pale. Her eyes were distant and haunted, and a slow, steady stream of tears slid down her smooth cheeks in silent agony.
It was happening again. Natsuki was retreating in on herself, fading away.
"We need to go. It's a long drive back home." Momo shut the car door.
Mashiro grabbed hold of Momo's arm. "Please, let me explain about him."
"No need. I really don't care what he does or who he's with. I just hope you know what you're getting yourself into."
"He's changed," said Mashiro.
Momo laughed. It was a bleak, hollow sound. "Weren't you the one who told me men never change?"
"He's different now. I swear it. You should give him a chance."
Momo pulled her arm free and hurried around to the driver's side. "No, thank you. And for your sake, I hope you're right."
"Wait! Just stay a few minutes."
Momo didn't answer. She was too tired to argue about this, too devastated to try. It had clearly been a mistake to come here-one she wasn't going to repeat.
She slid the key into the ignition, and thankfully, her car started on the first try.
It was the best thing that had happened to her since the night Natsuki was born.
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Rukia woke up reaching for Ichigo. It wasn't until the sleep had faded from her mind that she realized he wouldn't be there.
Her hand fell back to the covers, and she let out a little groan of regret. She never should have let him in her bed. In her body.
And now, not only did she have to figure out how to best take care of Hanataro today, she had to do it alone. If Ichigo came anywhere near her, she was afraid she'd be weak again and let him work his way deeper into her life-so deep she'd never find a way to get by when he left.
He was here to protect her from a killer, but she had to be the one to protect her heart from him.
The best thing to do was just get moving. Get through the pain today would bring.
She had to start planning Hanataro's funeral, deal with getting his body released for burial. There was no one else to do it.
She had no idea what kind of funeral he'd want. Something simple, nothing flashy, and certainly nothing expensive. He hated wasting money. Not that he needed to worry about that anymore.
The weight of her grief pressed down on her, holding her to the bed and driving the breath from her lungs.
Hanataro was really gone. He wasn't coming back.
Her bedroom door opened quietly, and Ichigo slipped in.
Rukia wiped away the sheen of tears wetting her cheeks before he could see.
She pushed herself to a sitting position, stifling a wince when her sore muscles protested the movement. Getting tossed around in the car yesterday hadn't done her poor body much good, although she was pretty sure the soreness of the muscles along her inner thighs had a lot more to do with Ichigo than with her accident.
"I brought you some tea and ibuprofen. Thought you might need it this morning."
"Thanks." She took the pills and sipped her tea, keeping her head down, hoping he couldn't see that she'd been crying in the dimness of the room. Pity was the last thing she wanted from Ichigo.
He sat on the edge of the bed, watching her. "How are you feeling?"
"A little stiff, but I'll be fine. I should probably get moving," she said, hoping he'd leave.
"It's Saturday. You should rest and let your body recover."
"I'm just a little sore. Besides, I have to find out what to do for Hanataro today."
"I'll help you."
He reached for her hand, but she wrapped it around her tea before he could touch her. "No, thanks. I'd rather do it on my own."
"You don't have a car."
"I'll borrow Kon's."
"He's at his study group."
"So, I'll go when he gets back."
"You'd be safer if I went with you."
Maybe her body, but not her peace of mind. "I'll be fine."
Ichigo shifted his weight, leaning closer to her. Rukia glanced up and wished she hadn't. His amber eyes glittered with frustration and his mouth was a flat, grim line. "Why are you pushing me away?"
"I'm not. I'd just rather do this alone."
He slid his thumb beneath her eye, wiping away tears from her wet lashes. "It's okay to let me see you cry. You get to cry when you lose a friend. It's in the manual."
She let out a watery laugh. "What manual?"
"The Top Ten Reasons Chicks Get to Cry manual."
He was trying to make her smile, which only made things worse. Every time he was sweet to her, it made it that much harder to think about him walking away.
She needed to put some distance between them. Sex had been a big mistake.
"I'm going to get a shower," she said as she tried to scoot past him.
He didn't let her go. He wrapped his long fingers around her arm and held on tight. His tone was light and flirtatious, but his eyes told her it was a lie. "Want some company?"
"No, thanks."
"Oh, come on. I know you've got to be sore. I could rub some of that soreness out of your muscles for you. All that hot water and slippery soap would feel good."
"I'm fine."
She slid her legs off the bed and tugged her arm. Ichigo didn't let go. He gave her a hard look. "I warned you I wouldn't let you do this."
"I'm not doing anything!"
"You're pushing me away because we had sex."
"I am not," she lied.
"I won't let you do it. Our friendship is too important."
"What friendship?" she shot back, jerking her arm free of his grasp. "I sent you a birthday and christmas card every year. So what? I sent them to everyone. That doesn't make us close."
He flinched as if she'd slapped him. His voice was a flat monotone of masked pain. "My mistake. I guess I read more into it than I should have. It won't happen again."
He turned to leave, and Rukia could see the ache coursing through him, pain she'd caused him, pain she'd caused with her careless need to protect herself.
As much as she wanted to hold her heart safe, she couldn't do it at Ichigo's expense. She couldn't drive him away like that.
"Ichigo, wait."
"I have work to do," he said. "I'll try not to get in your way."
He shut the door with a soft, final click.
Rukia didn't know what to do, what to say. She'd never thought in a million years that she could hurt him. He seemed invincible.
But she was wrong. Inside that invincible shell somewhere lurked the angry, insecure boy he'd once been, and Rukia had just stabbed him in the heart.
Damn it. How could she have been so careless? So selfish?
She had to fix it, or at least try.
Rukia raced from her room to find Ichigo, only to see him pull out of her driveway in an angry screech of tires. She ran out the front door to stop him, but it was too late. He was already gone.
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It was too early for Ichigo to find an open bar, but it was never too early to find a willing woman. A grocery store, a library, even a gas station would work. He'd find his target, give her a smile, and in no time, he'd be fucking too hard to think about Rukia and the fact that he'd made a complete ass of himself.
He'd read too much into her kindness over the years. They were just fucking greeting cards. Bits of paper and ink. She sent them to everyone. He wasn't special. He should have known better than to think he was.
Ichigo pulled into the nearest grocery store, hurried inside because he'd forgotten his coat, and grabbed a plastic shopping basket. The place was crawling with women, though most of them had kids tagging along and rings on their fingers.
He hit the produce section and spotted his prey. She was perfect. Blond, tall, and nothing at all like Rukia.
Ichigo put his best panty-dropping smile on and moved in for the kill.
;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;
Renji pulled up to Yammy's motel and parked with his trunk close to the door so no one would see him carry Kiyone inside.
Now that the police were involved, things were going to be a lot harder for Renji. Luckily, no one would believe Yammy was innocent, which made him perfect to take any suspicion off of Renji.
He snapped on a pair of rubber gloves before he even got out of his car. After so much practice, being careful to leave behind nothing to link him to the deaths was now second nature to him.
He knocked on the door of the motel room Yammy had rented. No one answered, which didn't surprise him. Who would want to hang around in a dump like this if there was anywhere else they could be? It was positively depressing with its faded paint and winter-dead, weed-riddled landscape. He had no idea how the motel stayed in business. Likely local prostitute traffic.
It was easy enough to break in with the tools Renji had acquired from one of his clients years ago. It took him only a few seconds to bypass the lock and enter the squalid room.
He carried his supplies and the duffel bag containing Kiyone's limp body inside. He hung the cracked "do not disturb" card on the doorknob and locked the door behind him.
The stench of mildew nearly made him gag, so he covered his mouth and breathed through his shirt. Hopefully, his work wouldn't take long.
There wasn't much sitting around, just some fast-food wrappers and a couple of empty beer cans. Yammy had apparently already moved out, though he'd used a good chunk of his bouncer's paycheck to pay for the week. Renji had checked. He didn't want any mistakes. Rukia was too important to him. Even if he saved no one else, he had to save her.
He loved her.
Renji shoved aside enough trash to make room for his supplies- a coffee mug, a disposable box knife, a bag of fancy tea flowers, Super Glue, some cellophane, and a pretty red ribbon-all wiped clean of fingerprints. That and a pouch of shredded jimsonweed leaves was all he would need to free Rukia.
He doctored the tea, leaving behind no trace that the package had ever been split open along the bottom. The Super Glue sealed the cut closed so it was barely vissible-and then only if someone knew what they were looking for. Rukia wasn't suspicious enough to look for evidence of tampering. He only hoped that the same could be said for Ichigo.
Renji made sure to leave enough of a mess behind to prove to the police that Yammy had been the one who poisoned Rukia. A couple of leaf bits on the floor. Another one that didn't quite make it down the sink. Another sliver of jimsonweed trapped inside a clear drop of glue on the table's surface.
Once Kiyone's body was found, this place would be crawling with cops, and they'd find everything he'd left behind. Yammy would be arrested, and the rest of Renji's sibblings would let their guard down.
He packaged up the World's Best Teacher coffee mug stuffed with poison tea in cellophane and tied it with the pretty ribbon. Monday morning he'd intercept one of Rukia's students on her way to school and have the special delivery hand carried to Rukia's desk.
Rukia was little Rurichiyo Kasumioji's favorite teacher. Renji had heard her say so on one of the days he'd followed her and her friend home from school. The chatty girls had paid him no attention as he'd followed behind them in jogging clothes. The mini amplifier he'd carried looked like an Mp3 player and had picked up their whole conversation. The things he'd heard Rurichiyo spew told him just how gullible she was, just how easy it would be to get her to play her role in helping free her favorite teacher.
Now all he had to do was take care of Kiyone and everything else would fall in line.
Renji pulled the painter's disposable coveralls on over his clothes, making sure he was covered from head to toe. Freeing Kiyone was going to be messy.
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It was late afternoon before Rukia heard the rumble of Ichigo's Mustang in the driveway again. She put down the cap she'd been crocheting in an effort to distract herself and keep her fingers from dialing his cell phone. He left because he wanted to be alone, or at least not with her. He'd left because she'd hurt him. She'd driven him away. The least she could do was give him some time to himself.
She opened the back door for him, relieved that he'd actually come back, that he wasn't gone for good.
His sun-streaked hair was a tousled mess, damp as if he'd just showered, and she was pretty sure the red smudge on his shirt was lipstick.
He'd been with another woman.
Jealousy and sense of betrayal filled her, and Rukia locked her knees to keep from crumpling to the floor under the weight of it. She knew she had no claim on him, but the idea that he'd sleep with her one night and find another woman the next day was beyond painful. She wanted to crawl into herself and disappear.
When she stood frozen, blocking his path, Ichigo took her by the arms and moved her back. He didn't just come inside, shut the door, and stop there. He walked forward and kept walking. Rukia backed up fast to keep him from running her over.
"What have you done to me?" he demanded. Angry desperation glittered in his eyes, making them glow in contrast to his tanned skin.
She bumped into the kitchen counter and grabbed it to steady herself. "What are you talking about?"
"It's not supposed to be like this," he snarled. "I like women. Lots and lots of women. And Rangiku was really nice. Pretty. Busty as hell."
Rangiku. Knowing her name made it real.
A little piece of Rukia's heart shriveled as he'd confirmed her suspicions. She couldn't get enough air to speak, even if she would have had something to say.
Ichigo pressed his hands to the counter on either side of her body, caging her in place. "And she wanted me. What the hell have you done to me that keeps me from fucking a pretty, available woman who wants me?"
He didn't have sex with her? The tightness in her chest eased enough so she could say, "I didn't do anything."
"You sure as hell did! You pushed me away."
"So you went to find another woman?"
"Why not? You didn't want me. You made that abundantly clear. We're not even friends, right?"
"Ichigo, I'm sorry! I didn't mean what I said. We are friends. I... care about you."
Some of the tension drawing his face tight faded away. "Then why did you turn cold like that?"
How could she explain it to him when she didn't even understand herself? "You scare me."
"I'd never hurt you!"
"No, not like that. The way I feel about you scares me. The way I want you scares me."
His eyes brightened with interest. "You want me?"
"Of course I do! What sane woman wouldn't?"
"Rangiku wanted me, too. I couldn't keep her hands off me."
Rukia closed her eyes, and all she could see was some busty blonde with her red, red lips on Ichigo. "I really don't want to hear about this."
But he kept on telling her anyway. "And the whole time, while she's kissing my neck and feeling me up, I kept thinking about you. About how she wasn't you and how it just felt... wrong." He leaned down until his mouth was at her temple and his breath was caressing her skin. "I kicked her out of the hotel room, and before she was even gone, I had to wash her off of me. I couldn't stand the feel of her mouth on my skin." He pulled in a shuddering breath. "What the hell have you done to me, Rukia? And how do I make it go away?"
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Ichigo breathed in Rukia's scent, letting it calm his frayed nerves. He knew she didn't have an answer to his questions. No one did. He was messed up. That was the only explanation he could find.
Or maybe it was just this place. The home of bad memories. It brought out too many emotions in him. Made him feel things he shouldn't, think of things best left in the past.
But he couldn't leave. Not with a killer still on the loose. He'd never be able to live with himself if he left Rukia and Kon alone to fend for themselves.
His hands slid over her back, tracing the delicate bones of her spine. He liked the way she felt against him, how she was so warm and soft. And he didn't have to break his neck bending down to kiss her, either. She was just tall enough that her mouth was in easy reach, tempting him to steal another taste. He just knew that if he did, she'd soften for him and make those faint sighing noises of pleasure that drove him wild.
And just like that, he went hard, his member swelling under his fly.
Thank God. For a while there, he'd been afraid it was broken, 'cause it sure as hell hadn't responded to the blonde, and that had never happened before in his life.
Some of his panic faded away as his body became familiar territory once again, working the way it was supposed to when he had a woman in his arms.
Rukia sucked in a breath and her hands gripped his biceps as if to steady herself.
Oh, yeah. She'd felt his erection, too, not that he could exactly hide it when he was pressed up against her so close.
"Ichigo," she started in a worried tone.
"Shh. Don't worry. I'm not going to push."
Her hands slid up to his face, and she held him between her palms. Those exotic eyes flickered across his features, and Ichigo felt her gaze all the way to his toes.
"This is a mistake," she whispered.
"No mistakes." He wasn't going to do anything she'd regret. He was going to be good. Honorable.
"But it's my mistake. Kon is out with Ririn for the evening, and there's no one here I can hurt. No one but myself."
Ichigo had no clue what she meant, but when she pulled him down and covered his mouth with her own, he no longer cared.
Her tongue played along his lips, and her silken sigh slid inside him, heating him hard and fast. Sweat broke out along his spine, and his hands clenched against her back. He locked their bodies together tight, and through the thin fabrics between them, he felt her nipples tighten against his chest.
A deep moan rumbled out of him. He needed to get her naked and feel her nipples harden against his tongue. Right. Now.
Rukia's lips parted, and her sharp teeth nibbled at his mouth before she deepened the kiss and gave him what he wanted. The taste of her filled his senses, making his head spin. She was such a great kisser, never holding anything back. She speared her fingers through his damp hair and held on while she drank her fill.
Ichigo lifted her until she was straddling his hips and pulled his mouth away long enough that he could carry her back to her bed. He wasn't going to give her any time to change her mind. Not now, not when she was fire in his arms and kissing him like she was starving for him.
He kicked the bedroom door shut in case they were still occupied when Kon came back, and he set her down on the mattress.
She hadn't made her bed, which was just as well, because Ichigo was planning to make a mess of it, anyway. This might be the last time he ever got to enjoy naked Rukia, and he planned on doing all those dirty things he'd spent the past few days fantasizing about. Assuming he could think clearly enough to even remember what they were.
Ichigo pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it aside. His boots were next, while he still had the sense left to remember how to get them off. The whole time, he watched Rukia, searching for signs of hesitation.
She'd said something about making a mistake, and Ichigo sure as hell didn't want to be apart of that. He wanted to make her feel good, so good she'd let him do it again any time he wanted.
Rukia glided off the bed and knelt in front of him in a move so graceful he couldn't believe it had really happened. She was all sinuous curves and sleek lines, moving like some kind of cat as she came to him.
She stared up at him with dark amethyst eyes as she opened his jeans and freed his erection. Her long, slender fingers closed around him, stroking and sliding over his member until his knees threatened to give out. And then she took him in her mouth, and Ichigo found the strength to stay standing. No way was he going to buckle when it might make her stop.
The heat of her mouth scalded him and sent streamers of warmth spiraling outward. He grabbed her head to help steady himself, but it did no good. His world was spinning, shrinking down to the suckling heat of her mouth and his battle to make it last longer than ten seconds.
He knew he couldn't hold out much longer and he gave her hair a little tug to warn her, but Rukia let out a wicked little snarl and slid his member deeper in her mouth.
Spots of flickering light filled his vision, and he gritted his teeth to hold out just a little longer.
He wanted to do so many things to her, and he wasn't going to have the strength left to do them if she made him explode with that sweet, hot mouth.
"Enough," he gasped and jerked out of her reach. His member throbbed in anger, but he ignored it.
Rukia licked her lips. "I wasn't done."
"You are now. My turn."
He saw her open her mouth to argue and knew if she said anything else, anything about wanting his member in her mouth again, he wan't going to survive. So before she could sway him with her shiny, hot mouth, he pounced.
Ichigo took her down to the mattress and pinned her with his body. He covered her mouth in a kiss meant to distract while he used ever skill he'd learned over the years to rid her of her clothes as fast as he knew how. Something ripped, but he didn't give a fuck. Whatever it was, he'd get her a new one. Then he'd find a way to get her to let him rip that one off, too.
In seconds, she was staring up at him, completely naked and a little shocked. "Not fair!"
He stared down at her sleek body, all bare and laid out for his enjoyment. The lights were on, and he could see every inch of smooth skin, every swath of flushed heat he'd caused.
Ichigo liked making her glow like that. In fact, he was wondering just how far down her body he could make her turn such a pretty, hot pink.
"I'd say it's more than fair. Or at least it will be in a minute."
Challenge blazed bright in Rukia's eyes. "I wanted to make you come."
"And you will. Just not yet."
"Why not?"
"Ladies first."
She moved as if to slip out from under him, but Ichigo was faster. He pinned her, straddling her thighs as he gathered her hands and held them to his chest. His erection bobbed, thrusting out obscenely in front of him from his open jeans, but there wasn't much he could do about that right now.
"I should make you stop," she said, though the threat would have had more teeth had it not been issued on a breathless sigh.
"All it takes is one word. Two letters. Starts with N."
He held his breath, praying she wouldn't say it. Seconds ticked by, and slowly, her body relaxed.
Ichigo let out a breathless sigh of his own. He let go of her hands and scooted down her body, being careful not to abrade her skin on his jeans. The rasp of denim on flesh made her shiver, but not nearly as much as his tongue did as it slid over her collarbone.
He spaced kisses between licks and soft bites as he worked his way down her body. He wasn't normally the kind of guy who left a mark, but with Rukia, he couldn't help himself. He sucked her skin against his teeth, leaving behind little love bites wherever he passed.
She took hold of his hair and guided him where she wanted him to go. A dark grin stretched his mouth as he gave in to her wishes and suckled her breasts as she demanded.
Fingernails bit into his scalp, and her whole body shuddered beneath him.
Ichigo lingered only long enough to sate her before he pressed her thighs wide and settled between them. The scent of her arousal filled the air and made his teeth ache with the need to taste her. He knew firsthand just how sweet she was and how her sexy whimpers made his head swell. Both of them.
She hadn't let go of his hair, but Ichigo didn't mind. He knew just where to go and what to do. He kissed a path to her hip, in the hollow between her hip bone and her stomach. With a light touch, he ran his tongue along the area until he found just the right spot, the one that made her twitch and gasp every time he touched it.
Rukia hissed and her grip tightened, telling Ichigo he'd hit gold. He sucked her skin as he slid two fingers along her slick labia, teasing her just a moment before he eased his way right inside, nice and easy. Her muscles tightened around his fingers and he sucked harder, tightening his teeth against her skin just a bit. Just enough to let her feel it.
A rush of wetness drenched his fingers, and a long, slow cry bubbled up out of her throat. Her body contracted, then shuddered, and the grip around his fingers tightened as an orgasm shook her body.
Ichigo smiled in victory, but he wasn't done yet. Not even close. While the climax was still shimmering through her, he found her clit and flicked his tongue over the distended little button. His fingers filled her while his knuckles grazed against her sweet spot with every stroke.
She hadn't even caught her breath from the last orgasm before he was driving her toward the next. He'd never get enough of hearing her like this, never get enough of feeling her clench around his fingers, or his member.
As he forced the second climax from her body, Rukia nearly ripped Ichigo's hair out. She was panting and tugging hard at his hair to get him to take her.
That was more than fine with him. He found a condom in his pocket, shed his jeans, and covered himself before Rukia came to her senses. He flipped her onto her stomach and slid into her from behind, just like he'd been aching to do since the moment he saw the idea darken her eyes with lust.
She was soft and wet from her orgasm, and he slid in so easy it was like breathing. Her body was hot against his, hot around his, and so tight it had him panting.
He buried his nose in her hair and breathed deep. She smelled so fucking good, tasted even better. He nudged her hair aside and kissed her neck as he started moving inside her. Long, slow thrusts that wouldn't irritate her sensitized tissues but would keep her nice and hot and aching for more.
Soon, Rukia was shaking again, struggling to pull in a full breath. Ichigo rolled them to their sides and stroked her hip, finding that spot he knew made her crazy. His fingertip hit the place Ichigo had marked with his teeth, and she twitched as if he'd applied an electric current.
"Too much," she told him.
"Just go with it. I promise you'll like it." And to prove his point, he pressed his hips forward and locked hers in place so she had no choice but to accept his deep thrust.
She moaned, and her hands fisted in the sheets.
She was close, which was good, because Ichigo wasn't going to be able to hold out much longer and he needed to hear her come for him just one more time.
Sweat dripped down his back as he worked to bring her pleasure while staving off his own impending orgasm. That telltale shudder shook her body, and Ichigo knew she was close. He reached around and cupped her breast, catching her nipple between his fingers. She went tense, and her toes curled against his shins as the first wave of her climax washed over her.
The sound she let out was a clear, shimmering cry of pleasure, and it sent Ichigo right over the edge. Her body rippled around him, squeezing his member so hard he lost control. He thrust into her, rolling her onto her stomach so he could ride her harder, deeper. Sizzling currents raced through his blood and sent shockwave after shockwave of release through him.
Minutes later, he regained enough sense to realize he was crushing Rukia. He rolled off, regretting the need to leave the sweet clinging heat of her body. He wrapped the spent condom in tissue and tossed it in the trash. Even that much effort made his arms shake.
Sweat cooled on his chest and thighs as Rukia rolled over and curled against his side.
Ichigo held her close and refused to let himself think about anything more than the pounding of his heart. Every time he started thinking, he got himself into trouble, and he wasn't willing to sacrifice even a second of this time with her, right here, right now.
Much later, as the sun set, Rukia rose up over him with that wicked smile back in place.
"My turn," she told him as she moved down his body and slid her lips over his member.
Ichigo didn't think he had any starch left in him, but Rukia proved him wrong. One swipe of her tongue and he was hard again, throbbing with need and ready to let her do as she pleased.
She did, and although he wasn't sure he was going to live through it, he didn't really mind.
;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;
Kiyone woke up in a strange place. Her eyes were blurry and took a moment to adjust, but when they did, she saw the rundown walls of a cheap motel room. Water stains wept down one corner, and the graying edges of dated wall-paper curled up to collect dust.
She tried to lift her head to look around, but she was dizzy. Her whole body felt heavy, weak. A whimper of fear slid out of her, and a second later, the face of her husband's killer appeared.
"You're awake. That's good. I wasn't sure you'd wake up in time." He gave her a gentle smile that made his brown eyes crinkle and her skin crawl.
There was something so familiar about his eyes, but no matter how hard she tried, no matter whether or not he wore a mask, she couldn't remember who he was or why she felt she should know him.
He stroked her cheek and she felt the cling of latex gloves over her skin. "Are you comfortable?"
Comfortable? She almost laughed but stopped herself before making the mistake. Her head throbbed where she'd hit the wall. She didn't need another lesson in how the killer dealt with anger.
"What am I doing here?"
He was wearing a white suit of some kind over his clothes. "It's not your turn, but I'm changing the rules. The police know too much, so now it's your turn."
The police were looking for her? A fragile thread of hope grew inside her, driving away some of the fear she'd been living with for weeks. "My turn for what?"
"Freedom."
"You're going to let me go?" she asked, letting that thread of hope swell.
"I'm sorry I made you wait so long. I know how hard it must have been for you. At least you had the medicine to help you sleep through it."
Kiyone had no idea what he was talking about. Had he done something to her in her sleep? Raped her?
She didn't think so. Surely she would have felt sore if he had-there would have been some sign.
Unless he'd been gentle, like he was being now.
Her stomach heaved, and she found the strength to lean over the side of the bed before she vomited onto the floor.
The killer stroked her hair and spoke soft, comforting words. "It'll all be better soon. Just lie back down. I'm going to make it all better."
She was shaking by the time she flopped back onto the pillow. Whatever he'd injected her with was still clinging to her, sapping her strength, exhausting her. She tried to fight it, but she was already feeling the tug of sleep. Maybe he'd given her too much this time. "Please, I need help."
"I know. Just hang on. I just need one more thing before I free you."
Kiyone felt a sharp sting in her scalp and saw him tuck a few strands of her hair into a plastic bag. He sealed it and moved it out of sight for a moment.
When he came back, he had a long knife in one gloved hand and a can of hairspray or something in the other. He smiled down at her and said, "It's time."
In that instant, Kiyone realized he was going to kill her. He wasn't going to let her go.
She screamed, but only a squeak came out before her mouth filled with a sharp medicinal stench. A second later, her body fell away and she couldn't drag in enough air to fill her lungs, much less scream.
"Don't be afraid," he told her. "I'll be right here with you."
Tears of panicked fear leaked from Kiyone's eyes as he propped her limp body against the headboard.
"It'll be faster this way."
Her mind reeled at the thought of what was going to be faster, stumbling over the terrifying possibilities.
He positioned her arms and legs to his liking, then took the knife and jammed it into her body.
Disbelief seized her mind until he lifted the bloody blade and plunged it down again. Blood sprayed across his white clothes. Her blood.
Kiyone tried to move but couldn't. She was frozen in place. Helpless. He was killing her, and all she could do was lie there and watch in horror as blood leaked out, soaking the cheap bedspread.
"I'm sorry it has to be this way," he explained as he plunged the knife in over and over, "but Yammy is a cruel man. The police have to believe this is his handiwork."
Kiyone's body shook with each blow, but she was unable to move.
His face came into view, and it was spattered with her blood. He gave her a gentle smile. "I'm going to find an artery now so it will be over fast."
Fast. The small part of her mind that accepted her fate decided that was a good thing. She only wished she knew why he was doing this. Why had he killed her husband? Why was he killing her?
Her eyes fell shut, and she could no longer keep them open. There was an odd fluttering in her chest, and she thought it was strange to feel that when she couldn't feel anything else.
Her body shook again, and she felt the pressure of his blow deep in her gut. "No more nightmares for you, Kiyone. You're safe now."
Safe. Such bullshit.
"Sleep now," he whispered. She could hear his voice close to her ear but couldn't find the strength to open her eyes and look at him, much less flinch away from him. "It's safe to sleep now."
Kiyone didn't have a choice. She couldn't stay awake any longer.
At least she was going to see Sentaro again. At least her nightmare was over.
An
Jeez, that took me forever! It was certainly a rollercoaster of a chapter wasn't it? It just kept going and going. Well, it's over now, so please review!