Disclaimer: I kind of wished I owned Bleach but alas I don't.

WARNING: SMUT! DO NOT READ IF YOU DON'T LIKE READING THAT KIND OF STUFF! THANKS!

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I love

29: I love that she slept in his closet

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Kurosaki Ichigo lost his virginity at the age of 17. Kuchiki Rukia was many times older than he was but she too lost her virginity at the same time.

The time and place was in his room. In his bed. Under the watchful eye of the moon and the stars that blanketed the inky sky.

Why?

Well you know… when two hearts were so passionate for each other, it was bound to happen.

It was also around that time Kurosaki Isshin gave his third daughter full permission to sleep in Ichigo's closet again. Ichigo wasn't sure if his father purposefully did that to help push things along or if Isshin really thought they were already doing the dirty and wanted his son to have a healthy, sexual relationship.

If anyone would call their relationship healthy—biting, slapping, fighting—in the course of lovemaking. That wasn't quite normal…

But no matter, it was the closet that helped their relationship a lot. It was the one place she felt the safest (besides his arms of course, but she didn't find that out till later). It was also the first place she slept when she took residence in the Kurosaki household. Furthermore, it was the place he could always find her at night and just… look at her.

She never caught him, though he daydreamed that one night she did. Her eyes would flutter open through black, silky lashes. And then Ichigo surmised he would look dumbstruck and the wrong words would tumble out of his mouth. He'd look like an idiot. But he'd reveal his true feelings and all would be well in the world.

But that never happened; Rukia never caught him. And that was okay. The night they lost their virginity to each other didn't involve him gazing lovingly at her but an argument over safety, which led butterfly kisses to heated touches to naked bodies – you get the point.

Today, six months later, that passion was still there. They still bickered but the newfound intimacy was like a billowing flame. Ichigo really wondered if his father let Rukia sleep in his room just to torture him.

Because you see, she still slept in his closet almost every time she was in the human world. And it was torturing, truly, because she was a sex goddess. In his closet. Who knew? Well the signs were there. Rukia was always strong and passionate, but she was also giving and needy, all into one, and he enjoyed that really, especially with his hungry hormones on the rise. He enjoyed that she could bend, twist and turn. He enjoyed that she could keep pace with him. He really enjoyed that she was open to experimentation and loved to try new things. Yes, even if he seemed embarrassed that she borrowed the Kama Sutra from the library, deep deep down (in his groin) he was excited.

Really, a sex goddess. In his closet.

Ichigo loved that she was a screamer too. He didn't think he was sex-god himself, but when she was whiny and demanding and trembling – so not like the cold, put-together Kuchiki Rukia—frig, it made him want her more. Which was the problem here.

She was a goddess in his closet. With your father and sisters in the same house, having your way with the nymph wasn't an easy thing to do.

Though… he could cover her mouth with his hand. He could kiss her lips and drown her noises with his mouth. He could give her his shoulder and she could bite down into him. He smiled to himself as he rolled his head over the back of the couch to look at her. "You're not sleeping in my closet tonight."

Rukia looked from the television to his face. "Why not?"

"Because you can't lie there on the ground and not expect me to…you know…"

Rukia sat up straighter and fully turned to look at him. Ichigo was sitting behind her on the sofa and understanding their positions, Rukia made a small smile. "I didn't mean to show you my panties like that. Why didn't you say anything?"

He looked away for a brief moment and she caught him in this act of awkwardness. Then he tried to cover the feeling up with a scowl and proceeded to distract himself further with a cough. "It doesn't matter now anyways."

"They're chappy panties you know."

His face reddened a little. "I know."

At his embarrassment, Rukia swiftly stood up to her feet and walked to her boyfriend till his knees touched her legs. His scowl faded as she climbed onto his lap, straddling his waist. She smiled when she said, "I really like your closet."

"I know."

"So why don't you want me to sleep in there for?" she teased, snaking a hand under his shirt and up his chest.

"You should know why," he gritted in between his teeth. "You should stop that before Dad and my sisters come home."

She looked innocent, as if she didn't know his father was to come back soon. "Then shouldn't we make it quick Ichigo?"

"Not now. That's why I said—"

She pressed her lips against his mouth, kissing him into silence as she tasted him. When she pulled away, he seemed a little dazed, as if never kissed before. "What's wrong?" Rukia wriggled in her spot and the damn sex goddess knew the answer. As she grinded on him, he grew hard and she grinned with that knowledge.

He grounded out, "Rukia, stop doing that," which wasn't at all convincing.

The afternoon sun streamed a golden light on her face. She really did look like a goddess as her eyes lit up like something otherworldly. Her alabaster skin glowed with pale elegance while her lips seemed fuller, thicker, especially after he reached up to kiss and pull on them.

Then in her school-girl voice, she whispered in his ear, "Kurosaki-kun, please fuck me."

If he wasn't erect before, he was definitely was now. And his enthusiasm to have her rose through the roof with his hands pulling her sweater off and his fingers gripping her skirt zipper down. She slipped out of all clothing within three minutes. And when she was naked, she stared at him coyly.

"This is your cue to take off your clothes." Her voice wasn't angry at all but there was an edge of impatience, which he noticed.

Ichigo stood and grabbed her arm. "Oh I will but we're going upstairs."

She was really a goddess because she managed to pull away, and she sent him a mighty glare. "If you can make me."

He loved that she challenged him. And this, he thought, wasn't too difficult. In his head he imaged he could grab her by the waist and drag her upstairs. In reality, before he acted, her hands were on his pants buckle and they were already on the floor. The next moment, her hands were under his shirt, groping muscles before trying to pull that off of him as well. The height disadvantage made it easy for Ichigo to move away, and toward the stairs, but she came after him, throwing her body at him with legs around his waist, breasts against his chest and mouth on his again. It wasn't helping that she was grinding on him and making those soft moaning noises.

Honestly, he couldn't do much else than to kiss her and feel up her ass. Ichigo managed to get up to make baby steps towards the entrance to the upper floor. The pants bunched at his ankles were a hindrance. And then he fell over, him on bottom too.

Rukia chuckled at his pain and kissed him hard for them to need breath. Her tiny hands then ripped his shirt opened like a thirsty fiend looking for a heart. Violet eyes glanced upwards to the first step in front of them and a sharp smirk flitted on Rukia's face. Whatever made her smug was lost from thought when Ichigo crushed her body to his, and rotated himself around. Easily, he picked her up and managed seven steps up until her fist connected to his side, causing them to fall again.

"The fu—" His muffling droned out to a long groan when her hand came around him. He stilled as she rubbed over him, watching his face glaze with pleasure. He was throbbing and Ichigo almost growled at her when she stopped. In a retaliation of sorts, he began to enter her. Rukia spread her legs further, sitting on one step above him but she climbed up two steps with him before the span of his chest was over her and her back pasted to the edges of the stairs. Ichigo pushed in deeper, halfway in, as he grabbed her wrists to pin her down.

"Rukia," he breathed, and then groaned as he moved completely inside of her. With her hands above her head, Ichigo repeated the motions of in and out, slowly and unhurriedly. The motion was one of rhythm, like a well-rehearsed dance and although their bodies began to sweat and noises of moans tore in the air, love was riding on the edges of each touch, each kiss, each thrust.

"Ichigo." Her voice rose with the need to feel him. "Ichigo." Her fingers bit into his hand from the thundering pressure. "Ichigo."

He released her hands, watching down at her face. Her eyes were shining, her lips, once parted, were now red and swollen from her teeth and his, and her face was flushed in a rosy pink from the electric blood coursing throughout her body. As she reached up to grab his shoulders, the control Ichigo had in the rhythm was fading and the thrusts grew more erratic. The angle of their lovemaking on the stairs gave a certain sharp pleasure to both Ichigo and Rukia, a bonus, and the fierceness of each slap of flesh was louder. Each moan became harsher.

One wave of an orgasm rippled through her and she screamed, her head flinging backwards, hitting hard on the step. Her body went rigid for a brief moment and her pussy trembled around him but she kept encouraging him to go faster and faster, until she had to scream again.

See. A sex goddess.

And Ichigo listened, riding her harder that she screwed her eyes tight, gripping on his flesh, his ass. The rhythm, the dance, was coming to an end now that his thrusts were almost unpredictable. Rukia felt her legs wrap around him, no longer to move with him. She screamed as he impaled her but this time she let her body fall into him for the next thrust. Ichigo moved down a step in this fashion, pulling her down into him, step after step, and for the finale they roared together with the intensity of two sexual beings making contact after what felt like days…years…

Their heads were too light that they rested on the ground, waiting for their breaths to calm.

"We need to get up."

"Your dad is going to be home soon."

"I told you."

She smiled against his chest. "It was fun, wasn't it?"

See. She was a sex-goddess. And she slept in his closet.

"Ichigo…" She pressed a hand to his forehead and wiped the sweat away. "If they find us naked on the stairs…"

His groan cut her off as he made efforts to move. "Let's go and hide in the closet. I can't defend myself from that lunatic if he came in my room and tried to attack me."

Rukia felt him snake an arm under her legs. "If he finds you in the closet, wouldn't that make problems worse?"

He smirked in a cocky manner. "Well, if you don't make a sound, he won't find us."

Her thin eyebrows rose in contest. "If I make a sound?" Her lips curved with her brows, framing her pretty features. "You should watch yourself if you're making a challenge."

She was right. He shouldn't. She was, after all, a sex goddess.

XX

About twenty minutes later, Papa Kurosaki made it home. There was no Karin or Yuzu with him since he dropped them off to their respective soccer and sewing classes. That was good anyways; he didn't know what Ichigo would say if they found Rukia's panties on the ground (who else had rabbit-printed underwear? Yuzu was more into ponies). With two fingers, Isshin picked them up and dropped it by Ichigo's door. Yes, he did have a great urge to embarrass his son regarding his sexual escapades but torturing the boy by having the object of his desire in his room, in his closest, was more fun. Ichigo's mood varied more, as if he pms-ed every other week.

Kurosaki Isshin found it quite entertaining indeed.

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Author's Note: Excuse writing errors. It's past 2 AM. I need a beta for my IchiRuki stories (see my profile). Um, either than that, thanks for the fabulous reviews earlier and I apologize for not posting in such a long time. I haven't written anything in months. I lost my mojo/motivation. Maybe Santa will give it to me for Christmas.

TENTATIVE preview for the next chapter:

30: I love that she refuses his protection

(yet he tries to protect her the most anyways)

"Are you an angel?"

He shook his head. His long orange hair flowed behind him with an ethereal grace that caused her to stare.

"Then," she asked, her breaths coming harder and harder.

His black wings folded behind his back, a dark feather falling to her bloody lip.

"What are you?"

His brown eyes treaded over her broken form and he frowned. Finally, he answered, "I'm a demon."

Her harsh breathing hitched another notched. Her eyes blinked with understanding. "Are you here to take my soul?"

"No. That's not my job. I'm here if you want to be saved."

"But if you're…a demon. Why do you want to save me?"

END OF PREVIEW

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(Are people still reading this story?)

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