Sorry for the long hiatus and thank you for still sticking around! Life has been fairly chaotic as of late, and though this fic has been on my mind, there hadn't been an opportunity for me to physically sit down and write it.

I hope you are enjoying the Memorial Day holiday! I spent mine writing for you :]

On an unrelated note, there's a whole lotta smut comin your way this chapter.. A lot, but probably never enough.

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach! Characters may be a little OOC, but I'll try to avoid that!

Definitions just in case:

Wakarimasu – I understand

Kakebuton – traditional Japanese comforter/blanket

He took a deep breath before he put the final nail in the coffin. "You were just an easy lay and I was starting to get bored."

The resounding silence rang scathing in his ears as immense guilt seeped into his heart. He took a step forward to make his exodus when she spoke again, "What did you mean when you said 'mine'?"

"Your sensibility should have told you it meant I was taking back what is mine and no longer wasting time on you," he lied, then quickly left the room.

Rukia slid to the ground, dour, speechless and confused.

Some months had passed when Byakuya still visited her room in the quite hours of the night, but he had a clear shift in his approach to her. Rukia could certainly tell he was more distant than previously, his eyes more hardened and his actions more abrupt. He hardly spoke, and even for a passionate act did he make it feel so mechanical, as if only to serve a purpose; a means to an end. She did not feel the tenderness she knew he was capable of showing, although there have been moments during his visits that he let his walls down, only to be quickly put back up, then double, triple, quadruple padlocked. She was useful to him this way so she tried not to feel all that bothered by it. Sometimes she would create fantasies to brainwash herself into thinking she still had value in his eyes and much like a gambler addicted to the pull of a slot machine lever, the sparse payouts of affection were enough to convince her she had worth. She did not want to squander any time he had thrown her way.

During the first night since they coupled in the shower in the previous week, he had silently entered her room. She had just started to doze while listening to the crickets chirping in the garden when she heard the calm sliding open of her door and a muffled thud to signal its closing. She knew it was Byakuya and she knew he wasn't here for conversation.

In the dark, she could barely make out his form, dressed in his sleeping kimono. He took the few steps between her and the door with grace, kneeling beside her when he reached his destination. She continued to watch his actions with a mixture of fear and curiosity. He pushed aside her kakebuton and settled himself between her legs, at which point Rukia quickly sat up, a questioning look on her face. He gave her a warning look; she gave him permission to continue.

He untied her sleeping kimono and threw it open. The sudden exposure, in conjunction with the chilled air, gave her skin goosebumps. Byakuya left little time for those bumps for form as he set to cover every inch of her skin with his hands, his mouth following suit. Rukia tried desperately to hold back her mewls; she didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much pleasure he gave her. She wanted him to earn that satisfaction, to work earnestly for it, but she craved his touch so badly that her reactions came freely.

He played with her for a bit longer and then tested her entrance; she could not deny honesty there. He untied his kimono, his length practically parting it open for him. In one fluid motion, he angled his hips and thrusted into her, hissing through his teeth. Rukia's voice caught in her throat, garbling tones that would've been words. He did not wait until she adjusted to his size. In fact, he did not wait until she was very ready in any respect; doing so would have been outside the realm of his mission. Instead, he slipped in and out of her at his own speed, his lust doubling as he watched her sounds and expressions fluctuate between pain and pleasure… All because of him.

Feeling himself get extremely close to the end, he pulled out of her and quickly moved to her side. With a firm grasp on the hair at the back of her head, he stuffed her mouth with his dick while she was in mid-moan. He came as soon as he felt her teeth slide gently along his length, his tip hitting the back of her throat. The propulsion of the volume of his cum ejected him out of her filled, gaping maw and then he streaked her face with the remainder of it. His grip on her hair slackened, sitting back on his heels to catch his breath. Rukia audibly swallowed the load in her mouth and panted. She wiped her face with her hands, licking up every last drop on them.

Byakuya looked down at her legs. "Still spread wide open? Dirty little whore."

He repositioned himself at her entrance and resumed fucking her. Rukia noted every minutiae of his mien this time because he actually showed some semblance of sentiment. His brows were knitted in deep concentration; his mouth was open in a panting grimace. He initially had his eyes closed but she caught his focus as he watched her through slits. She turned her attention to the hypnotic sway of his long, silken hair as he moved atop her. He turned her face to him, exerting just enough pressure through his fingertips on her lower jaw to relay his indelible seriousness, his palm on her throat.

"Look at me until you come."

His thrusts became more erratic as he started to feel her walls contracting so tightly, so sweetly, around him. Her juices overflowed when she finally came, adding to the increasing warmth he felt whenever he was inside her. The incredible glaze on his dick created such erotic, yet sloppy, sloshing and squishing noises that he came with renewed vigor. He pulled out of her once more, spurting all over her chest and abdomen. He eked out whatever was left in his now softened member and stood. He pulled his robe back over his shoulders, since the collar had fallen down to his elbows during their second round, and tied it closed loosely. Without a word, he turned and left, just as gracefully as when he had arrived, as if he never took part in this malfeasance.

Every time was kind of predictable, in this way. It was almost routine, really. He entered her room like it was business as usual. He undressed himself, carefully folding his kimono and setting it on her dresser. Completely nude, he knelt by her futon, pulling aside the kakebuton off of her sleeping form. Depending on his mood, he engaged her in foreplay or got right down to the dirty. Foreplay mostly consisted of fondling and anything he could do with his mouth, but Byakuya had surprised her once or twice with more risqué behavior, behavior that was very uncharacteristic of him. For instance, he was taking her from behind a few weeks ago and actually began spanking her as he rode her, his hands hot on her ass. She was startled at first, but started to enjoy it, either because it generally turned her on or because it was so unlike him that she felt special. When she looked back at him, their eyes met for a split second before she witnessed his eyes roll back and his consciousness drift off to a happy place. Although, even during that time, he didn't come inside her; he pulled out and came all over her back and ass. She noticed this trend and didn't understand why. After everything was said and done, he got up and left.

She did a lot of thinking one night as she tossed and turned in bed, mostly about what she could've done that Byakuya would really disapprove of. What he said to her in the shower contradicted his actions, so much so, that she couldn't shake the feeling he was only trying to placate the concerns of taboo. He was completely negligent of both of their feelings as people, as individuals with dreams and desires. She thought he was beyond old enough to worry about what other people thought. He sacrificed what little they had, yet he was selfish, through and through, to have made that decision for the both of them. She didn't understand why he, all of a sudden, felt the need for that to be done.

She slid out of bed, tired and frustrated, and slinked through the early morning darkness towards his room. She didn't care if she had to resort to underhanded means; she sought to uncover the truth. She sought to recover her self.

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Byakuya was slowly drawn out of sleep by soft suckling noises and a pleasurable feeling. He almost brushed it off as residual effects of another vivid dream, until he felt the sensation again and noticed a heaviness on his thighs. He peered downward to make out a small silhouette moving underneath the covers. He pulled back the fabric and was met by a pair of glistening violet eyes. Rukia was half-way through licking up his erect shaft when she was found out, gripping the base with her left hand and cradling the tip with her right.

"Rukia! What do you think you're doing?!"

"Ohayo gozaimasu, Nii-sama," she said, taking his member in and out of her mouth like a lollipop. "I hope this surprise wasn't too boring...?" She slowly began to stroke him and felt his thighs tense.

"Stop that this instant!"

"Wakarimasu." She nodded in understanding.

She casually slithered her hands up his sides below his loosened sleeping robe, parting it on her quest upward. She slathered hot kisses up to his chest, dipping her tongue into the clefts of his muscular hips and between the rifts of his defined abs. She straddled his hips, pinning his hardness between them as it lied flush against him. He could see his tip peeking out from underneath her patch of hair. She's not wearing undergarments!

He scanned her, noting her extremely short sleeping robe which parted to reveal her curls due to her seated position. Her sash was loosened as such that he could see a column of perfect skin, from her neck, down between her breasts, past her belly button and to her crotch. When he gulped, she felt him throb under her.

She leaned over him, shifting her weight to her palms, which were pressed flat on his chest. She rocked her hips forward hard a few times, each action adding another coat of her slickness to the underside of his shaft. He licked his lips and noticed she was wearing something else: a sinister smile.

"Sumimasen deshita, I keep wasting your time."

She made to stand but he grabbed her wrists.

"Continue."

"Oh, no I mustn't, Nii-sama," she said in a precautionary tone, "That would be easy… too easy… It would not do well for your little sister to be known as a whore."

"Silence! You do not engage in such relations with other men, correct?"

"Hai, but surely you already knew that when you said…"

He cut her off. "Then what you said is untrue – you are no whore."

"So you admit that you were wrong as well?"

Byakuya's eyes widened in realization that she caught him in his lie, and he looked to the side, avoiding her knowing stare. She didn't mean to torment him in such a way, but it wasn't completely unwarranted. It was cruel and unjust for him to say those words to her in the shower, just because of his own fear and guilt. His claim was unsubstantiated; there wasn't a single iota of evidence to refute its fallacy.

He exhaled deeply, "Hai, gomen."

She blinked in disbelief – not only did the infallible Captain of the Sixth Division and Head of the Kuchiki Clan admit he was wrong, but he apologized as well! Her smile turned smug.

With a haughty air that would've made him proud under different circumstances, she said, "Ensure it does not happen again."

She was about to stand if not for Byakuya continuing to hold on to her wrists.

"We are not finished." He looked her in the eye and pulsed his member for emphasis.

"I may not be a whore, but this would still be too easy. Arigatou gozaimashita, Nii-sama, you have taught me to not give my affections away so readily."

"This is hardly the time to put life lessons into effect! Very well, it is your choice, your own undoing. We will do this the hard way."

He flipped them over so he lied on top of her, pinning her wrists. He rocked his hips to continue what she started, but he teased her further, inserting just a few millimeters of his tip before slipping out and following through with his movement, rubbing his length along her clit. He gave her a look that would melt any woman and said, "One more word to take heed: when we fuck, I am your Master."

In the next pitch of his hips, he entered her chasm, then angrily thrusted into her with fervor, as if to reaccentuate his point. He turned her onto her side, taking one of her legs to rest her ankle on his shoulder.

In between pants and thrusts, he reaffirmed, "That means… you are mine… and only mine… for the fucking…"

"Hai… Master…" she abided.

"Wherever I want… Whenever I want… Are we clear?" His thrusts hit her like a diesel-powered pile driver.

"Ah!... Hai… Ohh!... Master…" She covered her mouth with her hands, attempting to muffle her whimpers. She was unsuccessful, with each forward drive jarring her head back to cry aloud.

"You… belong… to me!"

Soon thereafter, they leapt off the jagged-edged precipice into a pleasure-filled abyss, landing as a mound of sweaty torsos and limbs, both exhausted from fighting-foreplay and make-up sex.

"Rukia."

"Master?"

"Truthfully, you are not boring whatsoever. In fact, I rather like your surprises," he said, alluding to the morning's activities.

She was a little surprised at his openly admitted opinion. Byakuya brushed her hair off of her brow and kissed her forehead. He was a little disappointed that his resolve to distance himself did not even last what seemed a blink of an eye, but he was happier this way. They were happier this way. There's just something about her that forced him to be honest with himself, not allowing him the security typically provided by apathy. Her strong will and sass were enough to counter his obstinance and indifferent demeanor. For this, he was a changed man, and for the better.

She wanted to think she was changed for the better as well. Being adopted into the Kuchiki Clan had forced her to have pride in herself. She was always the same person, although just more refined, being taught various arts and disciplines soon after her adoption. She felt such pride, and at the same time, felt such humility. Her background gave her no other option than to be humble, which, to Byakuya's dissatisfaction, meant she was the scape goat or sacrificial lamb for the elders' disputes; he curbed that from happening as much as he could.

Rukia propped herself up onto her elbows, resting on top of Byakuya's chest. He looked up at her, supporting his head with one arm underneath and feeling the smooth curve of her back with the open palm of his other.

She focused her eyes on his and asked, "What… What else do you think of me?" What else do you like about me?

As an FYI, I think there will only be a couple more chapters before this fic is done. Please enjoy it til the end!