Phantom: Hello dear readers! Welcome to my latest project. I have decided against writing any new novels lengthy stories for now, as I thought it would be fun to write a series of One-Shot lemons, with not only my favourite ships, but yours, too! I hereby challenge you to write your request in a review for me to write a one-shot involving your favourite Yu-Gi-Oh! ship, and I will gladly oblige (as much as I am able to!). Without further ado, here is the first one-shot.
Disclaimer: I own nothing! Yu-Gi-Oh! and all its characters belong to Kazuki Takahashi.
WARNING: This story contains detailed sexual content (obviously…huhu) and coarse language.
The Lemon Bibliotheque: An Anthology of Impassioned Writings
"Valley of the Queens"
A Trustshipping fic
(Seto Kaiba x Isis Ishtar)
xXx
Seto Kaiba discreetly wiped the sweat from his brow, again querying his decision to come back to this God-forsaken place. Ever since he had recovered the Millennium Puzzle, he didn't envision having need to step foot back on Egyptian sands, again. However, upon receiving a VIP invitation to the revered annual gala—held by the Egyptian Museum of Antiquities every year—he could hardly refuse. Its' staff had been particularly obliging to him, after all, during his scavenger hunt for the lost artefacts, those few years ago. But perhaps that was simply due to the very generous "grant" they had received, from him. Kaiba Corporation, and therefore Kaiba himself, was now seen to be one of their most esteemed benefactors. It would have been impolite not to at least show his face.
Indeed, Kaiba had to admit, the museum had spared no expense in throwing this event, located as it was at the prestigious Hotel Alexandria. The place had been decked out in a distinctly 1930's vibe, with sprays of ostrich feathers, spills of pearls, gilt and velvet, as far as the eye could see. Still, it paled in comparison to events thrown by Kaiba Corporation in the past, but there was something that made him feel more at-ease about attending as an honoured guest, rather than as the host, under the glare of the limelight. This time he could relax, indulge in some hors d'oeuvres, take part in some obligatory schmoozing with the museum curator and his underlings for good measure, and perhaps—if he was in the mood—find himself a satisfactory piece of ass, to round the night off.
One ass, in particular.
"Champagne, sir?"
Kaiba took a flute from the silver tray, inclining his head in thanks. The waiter mirrored the gesture of obligatory politeness, before sauntering off to greet other guests. Somewhere in the background, the tinkle of a jazz pianist could be heard, pervading the atmosphere with its bouncy yet relaxing cadence.
Scanning the opulently-decorated ballroom, Kaiba made his way through the throng of party-goers, which was made up of an assortment of archaeologists, historians, academics and the like. Frankly, he hadn't much to say to them, and indeed, he wasn't all that well acquainted with any of them. The only person he marginally hoped to see here tonight had either not yet arrived, or had not been able to make it, which left a bitter taste in Seto's mouth. If he was being honest with himself, it was practically the only reason why he decided to show.
It wasn't until later on in the evening—after one too many rounds of champagne to slake the dry conversation he'd been forced to endure—that he finally spotted her.
"…new technology is simply marvelous, Kaiba. Your company has such a bright future ahead, I will be intrigued to see where you lead it…"
"I'm sorry," Kaiba spluttered, interrupting the associate he had been speaking with, mid-conversation, his icy eyes now fixated on a figure moving furtively toward the outdoor terrace. "Please, excuse me."
Kaiba departed the group of suits—nearly spilling his drink in his haste—and adroitly made to follow her. His sight honed in on its target—the woman he had very nearly lost his first duel in the Battle City finals to, all those years ago.
To this day, that duel still haunted him.
How close he had come to losing…
Had he not had that psychedelic vision—like so many others that came after it—he might well have been forced to admit defeat to her. And yet, though he had ultimately prevailed, Isis Ishtar was the only person besides Yuugi Muto to whom he had nearly met his downfall.
From behind, Isis could have been any other woman that had tumbled in and out of the revolving door of Seto Kaiba's sheets. He wasn't choosy, as long as they fit his aesthetic preferences—not taller than him, not too thin nor too thick, anywhere between the age of legal and forty-five, preferably on birth control. Ethnicity, intellect and marital status were all irrelevant. In short, Kaiba had no great desire to forge a lasting relationship with anyone.
He had never been in love, nor did he ever intend to be. It only complicated matters, and he was quite certain that he could not stand to be in the company of the same person for longer than a few hours, at any given time. Conversely—and contrary to popular belief, given the number of women who had claimed to have fallen in love with him, over the years—Kaiba didn't think any woman would be particularly thrilled to be in a relationship with him on a long-term basis, anyway. Outside of Mokuba, nothing was more important to him than his work, and that was very unlikely to change, anytime soon.
Upon seeing Isis again, however, Kaiba was alarmed to feel himself swaying in her presence, but perhaps it was just the drink, and his natural male reaction at seeing such a voluptuous beauty. The black, fully-beaded gown that hugged her figure trailed out behind her like a serpent's tail, exposing the contours of her bare back. Her jet tresses were pulled up and away from her face, held in place at the back of her head with a golden scarab beetle hair pin, in such a way as though it might fall loose at any moment, but it remained in place.
Steadying himself, Seto stepped toward her. Her gaze was held by the hypnotic lull of the Nile River as it flowed by on its course to the sea, as it had done for millennia.
"You came." she sounded surprised—as surprised as a former medium could be, anyway. "I thought you might find such an event much too dry."
"Ms. Ishtar." Kaiba smiled invitingly at her as she turned to face him, but all at once he was left winded and momentarily paralyzed.
The Egyptian woman's beauty had not faded one iota, in the years since he had last seen her. In fact—she had grown into it, having been mature beyond her years, even back then. Now, aged twenty-seven, her cerulean eyes shone like cut sapphire in the soft glow of the antique lamps, her lips painted blood red for the occasion. In the space where the Millennium Necklace would once have taken residence, was an intricate gold pendant shaped to emulate the goddess Ma'at, her wings outspread across the plane of Isis' collarbones.
"Isis," she gently corrected. "Please, there is no need for formalities tonight, Kaiba."
"In that case…" he stepped closer toward her. "You may call me Seto." He replied, taking her hand and bringing it to his lips. "You…are a vision."
She seemed mildly amused by that, he thought, receiving a demure smile from her, as she allowed him to kiss the back of her hand. Maybe that was a little ironic, he thought, but she had almost galled him into involuntarily submission, the moment he set eyes on her. He could barely refrain from running his hands down those beautiful curves, let alone think of the right thing to say. When it came to women, Kaiba often had to put in very little effort, given the way they threw themselves at him. It was almost too easy.
In the years that had transpired between his and Isis' last encounter, Kaiba had known many beautiful women, some more memorable than others. And yet, Isis had always remained in the shadowy recesses of his memory, as if she had somehow set the precedent for those whom he would engage in intimate affairs with, serving as a constant reminder that no one could—or ever would—match up to her. As far as Kaiba was concerned, he had met no other woman of equal measure.
"It is not a duel you came for, then?" a wisp of a smile passed beneath her lips.
An instinctive kneejerk reaction within Kaiba almost caused him to lash out, at that, before he caught himself in the realisation that this was quite possibly a mild form of flirting. "Not this time," he answered. "Although, I wouldn't turn it down, if that's what you're offering."
"I'm afraid you're out of luck, Seto; my dueling days are long behind me."
Kaiba tried to imagine for a moment what a life without dueling would mean for him. His mind turned up a blank. "Then what do you do, these days?"
"As you know, new artefacts are being discovered all the time."
"I meant for entertainment."
She turned her head to look up at him, allowing Seto an almost bird's eye view of her perfect heart-shaped face. "That is…perhaps something I'd rather show to you, than simply tell you."
Kaiba tried and failed at appearing impassive. "Shall we go somewhere a little less…dull, then?" he suggested, allowing her to take his arm.
"Yes," Isis obliged, gathering the train of her dress with one hand, and taking his arm, with the other. "Let's."
There was only one other thing in particular that Kaiba wished to see tonight, and for once it had nothing to do with duel monsters or ancient artefacts. However, he allowed her to take the lead, and before long they found themselves in a balconied suite on the top floor of the hotel.
Upon entry, Kaiba closed and locked the door discreetly behind him. Admiring her from the back, he loosened his tie a little as Isis made her way through to the outside balcony. With a flutter of her kohl-lined eyes, she beckoned him to follow. He eyed the suite calculatedly on his way through, taking into account the position of the canopied, four-poster bed, and the steps it would take to reach it, from the balcony. He guesstimated four.
Kaiba followed her back out into the balmy night. The scent of night-blooming jasmine and waterlilies invaded his senses; the sounds of the night and the lawless city of Cairo in the distance, punctuating the stillness.
There was just something about this place left him feeling beguiled.
Far too many unsettling experiences had occurred here, for him to deny that there was magic in these sands.
"Tell me, Seto," Isis ululated, gazing out across her homeland. "what is it you see?"
Kaiba peered into the distance. Above the jungle of skyscrapers and neon-lit billboards, he could make out the great pyramids of Giza, together with the colossal Sphynx, glowing against the night sky as if fashioned from some kind of luminescent gold stone.
"I see only you," he husked, reaching to tuck an escaped snarl of obsidian hair back behind her ear. "What do you see?"
"I see a king," she replied. "a king in need of a queen."
Unable to fight against his urges any longer, Kaiba swiftly closed the gap that kept them parted, pulling Isis against his body as she arched up toward him, equally as hungry for his mouth. They kissed fervently, clawing at skin and hair, relishing the sweetness of each other's champagne-laced lips. She pulled back, a fire in her usually calm blue eyes as she steered him back toward the bedroom. Seto needed little coaxing, sliding the balcony door shut behind them and drawing the curtains haphazardly across.
Surging with a combination of testosterone and confidence that came all too naturally to him, Seto lunged for her—intending without restraint to rip her dress from her body and make raw, frenetic love to her—but she brought him up short, slapping his hands off of her.
"Wait," she ordered. "I know this has been a long time coming, Seto, but…I want this night to be one you'll always remember." Isis gently pushed him backward into a gilt-edged chair.
"Oh, really?" he smirked. "What makes you think I won't remember it?"
"I know I'm not the only woman you've locked lips with, Seto Kaiba." Isis resounded, with smirk indicative that she was the one in charge, tonight. "And I won't be the last."
Kaiba felt slightly affronted; he was quite certain he wasn't about to forget the events that were about to unfold—even in his cocktail-clouded state of mind—and it was he who took control in the bedroom, more often than not, but he decided to humour her, at least for the moment. Crossing one leg over the other, he leaned back in the chair, watching in amusement as Isis dimmed the lights and flicked on the stereo. A soulful, stirring melody reminiscent of opulent desert palaces began to play, immediately taking Kaiba to a place of flying carpets, unending sand dunes, and riches beyond his wildest imagination.
More than anything, however, was the temptress that had been conjured up before him, the way a snake charmer coaxes a serpent from a vase. For all Seto knew, she could have been a mirage, the way she began to gyrate her hips from side to side, holding his gaze in a kind of exotic hypnosis.
Swinging her body in time with the music, Isis then reached behind herself and slowly— seductively—unzipped her shimmering black gown. It fell to the floor around her ankles with a thud, almost simultaneously with Kaiba's jaw. Before him stood a divine goddess, as nude and as pure as the day she was born, but for a black and gold lingerie set covering her modesty.
Her eyes not leaving his, Isis loosened her hair, unpinning the scarab beetle clip holding it in place. Her hair uncoiled like a great black serpent, tumbling down her back and cascading over her shoulders. She then stepped out of the dress now pooled around her ankles, revealing her dainty feet, clad in metallic gold stiletto sandals. Her perfectly manicured toes were painted to match her shoes, as were her nails. Smirking slightly, she swung her body to the rhythm, suggestively accentuating every curve and crevice as she drew nearer toward him.
Kaiba ogled with round eyes Isis' swathe of mocha skin that spread from the crown of her head to the bottoms of her feet. Her teardrop shaped breasts were all but bursting over the top of her bra, complementing the generosity of her hips and thighs and slightly thicker waist than he was used to seeing—in comparison to Japanese women—and it sent fire straight to his loins.
Kaiba—now as randy as a stag in rut—went to stand as she advanced toward him in seductive grace, but she pushed him back down, straddling his lap. He enveloped her body as they kissed, doing away quickly with her bra as he squeezed and pawed at her lissome derriere. Dominating her mouth with his, Kaiba reached beneath her honeyed limbs, pushing her underwear to the side as he found her moist sex. His cock lurched eagerly against his trousers as Isis ground herself against it while he fingered her, drawing euphoric moans from her throat, and soon his.
Deciding he could take no more, Kaiba stood up with Isis hooked securely around his waist. He squandered little time in striding toward the bed, before throwing her down on it, raking off his shirt and crawling astride her. She lunged for him like a tigress bringing down her prey, seizing him in the heat of madness that was unrequited lust.
Moments of frenzied groping and kissing later, both man and woman were blissfully bare, free from both the physical restraints of their clothing and the unsaid hindrance that had sabotaged their chance to satiate the long-overdue sexual tension between them, those seven years gone before. Her body was finally free of undergarments—just the way Kaiba liked to imagine her underneath those linen robes and headscarves, during his tournament. Many a night had passed on that blimp, when he had woken to wet sheets.
Kaiba had been decidedly in two minds regarding the exotic woman, ever since she stepped foot on his blimp that night and dared to challenge him. The arrogance she possessed in "knowing" she would win in a duel against him had been mildly affronting, at the time, but ever since he had defeated her in the scathing showdown that had been his first duel of the Battle City finals, Kaiba's perception of her shifted. With Isis no longer a threat to him, he began to find her intriguing—in a bizarre, dotty sort of a way, at first, then later in the erotic.
Being a hot-blooded teenager in the throes of relentless hormones at that time, Kaiba could barely keep his hands to himself in his ardency for her. Though his desires had never come to fruition at the time, he knew he hadn't seen the last of her, and though words had never been exchanged—as there needn't've been, given the clairvoyant power of her mystical artefact—Kaiba knew as well as Isis did that their paths would cross again, someday, and this time, he wouldn't be denied.
"Oh, Seto!" Isis shrieked as he worked her eager womanhood with his fingers, whilst assaulting her nipples with his tongue and teeth. She smelt of spices and musk, smoky rose and starlit nights; it was enough to drive him completely wild. She was not just a goddess, he decided—her body was the temple, itself.
Seeing she was near climax, Kaiba shimmied down between her legs and finished the job off both with his tongue and digits. Moments later Isis was howling in ecstasy as she came strong and hard into his mouth, her engorged vulva spasming and twitching. Seto licked every last drop of her nectar, betting that she had seen a few men in her time, but sure that she hadn't ever been given an orgasm quite like that before.
"Gods, Seto…how did you…learn how to…do that…" Isis panted between jagged breaths.
"You should know by now that I'm a fast learner." He grinned at her, rolling a condom onto his straining cock.
Isis mildly returned his look of smugness. "Wouldn't you like me to return the favour, first?"
"Maybe during round two." he muttered, moving to assume a position that would be comfortable for both of them. "I've waited long enough."
He hooked Isis' legs into the crook of his elbows, leaning over her and kissing her deeply as he penetrated her molten cleft. Moments later, he was on her like a dog on a bitch, pumping wildly with all the fervor and virility one would expect from a young man in his prime.
Isis' eyes rolled back as he filled her time and time again, causing her to elicit a kind of guttural grunt from a place of pleasure, deep within. Kaiba, with his weight in his elbows and forearms braced either side of her head, shuddered in deep, primal gratification as he thrusted into her with unbridled passion, thanking whatever Gods that may or may not exist, that he was able to have this moment with the woman he had lusted after for almost a decade. Seven years, and not even a typhoon could have extinguished the candle he secretly held for her.
"Ngh, fuck," Kaiba cussed, his balls slapping against Isis' curvaceous ass. "You're so…ahh…fucking hot,"
Isis chuckled lowly, and in a movement that took Kaiba off guard, she had flipped him over and began riding him until kingdom come. He groaned hoarsely at the sudden change of position, his cock filling up every inch of her lubricated depths. He could feel his release approaching like a looming thunderstorm, and knew if they didn't slow down, it would be over all too soon. He knew Isis wouldn't appreciate that, and in all honesty, neither would he.
"Come here," he spoke tenderly and she did so, bending over and locking lips with him as they had done before, their sweaty foreheads pressed together. She slowed her pace, rocking gently up and down, grinding her clit against him every time she made contact. Their breaths were ragged, bodies damp with sweat, minds heavy with passion and lust and, somewhere beneath it all, unspoken shame.
In a way, actually making love was almost more torturous for Seto than wild, ass-banging, thigh-slapping sex. The latter was usually over with quickly, and devoid of any real intimacy. It left him feeling satisfied physically, but never emotionally, which he never supposed was such a bad thing. Emotions only ever complicated matters, after all. Tonight though—tonight, he was in the mood for something more, and he figured Isis, above all women, was deserving of it.
Flipping her like a spatula back onto her back, Kaiba dragged her trembling body to the edge of the bed so he could make love to her whilst standing, soaking up the glorious scene of her nude form against ivory sheets, splayed out in front of him. Barely able to fight against the threat of climax any longer, he began plunging into her again, at a pace not too fast and not too slow—just enough to be sheer agony for both of them.
"Oh Seto, I think you're…going to…make me come…again…" Isis rasped, snaking a hand down between her legs to touch herself.
That was the tipping point for him.
As with most heterosexual men, Kaiba found it extremely arousing watching a woman masturbate, especially during the act. He'd known from a fairly young age—in part due to his superior intellect, and one too many evenings quenching his desires with porn—that it took more than simply penetration for most women to achieve orgasm. Clitoral stimulation being key, he tried to remember to pay due care in this respect, the end result often being met with eager shrieks of ecstasy. In fact, Kaiba could not think of one time where he hadn't made a woman come in this respect. To date, his success rate was 100%.
"Oh, Gods—!" Isis writhed beneath him, her legs opening like the wings of a butterfly as Seto eagerly spurred her on. "Oh! Yes!" A primeval cry tore from her throat as her second orgasm of the evening rippled through the core of her being.
"Ah…ah…oh! Fuck! I'm coming!" Kaiba—barely hanging on by a thread—followed in haste as the dam finally split asunder, imploding and crumbling as he rode the final crescendo into a cataclysmic release. "Oh! Ungh!"
Kaiba caved in over top of his lover, purging the last of his seed deeply into her. The last spastic throes of euphoria left him completely immobilized, barely even able to summon the energy to kiss the resplendent woman beneath him, before dropping his head to the sheets, as he heaved for oxygen. Isis took delight in the weight of him on top of her, their bodies still tied in an intimate knot of passion as they drifted down from the high. She smiled and kissed the top of his cheekbone affectionately, before rolling him off of herself and making for the bathroom.
Kaiba was momentarily flummoxed, to say the least, pushed aside as though he was like some unwanted toy. Most women, in his experience at least, liked to cuddle and have a little mindless pillow talk, after the fact. More times than not, they were eager for something that he was not—a relationship—and this had often become problematic. One too many broken hearts later made Seto realise that sex was really only worth it if both parties involved were on the same page regarding the whole "no strings" policy. Seto had yet to catch feelings for any of his previous lovers, however he was not blind to the fact that there was a first time for everything.
Isis emerged from the bathroom some moments later, wearing an ivory silk robe. Her makeup had been retouched, and her hair had been re-pinned back to the way it was, earlier in the evening. Seto glanced at the time; it was past midnight.
"Going so soon?" he queried.
Isis smiled and came to sit on the edge of the bed. "My associates will be starting to wonder where I am," she replied airily. "I should return to the party, to say goodbye to our guests…and to thank them, for coming."
The innuendo in her voice did not go unnoticed by Seto. "I see." He mumbled in reply, wondering why he felt such a pang of disappointment in the pit of his stomach.
"Seto," Isis smiled, placing a warm hand on his shoulder. "Tonight was wonderful, truly," she said. "But, you should know…that you are not meant for me, nor I for you."
A jumbled combination of relief and disappointment washed over him. "As true as that may be," he said. "can we not just pretend, at least for one night, like we are?"
She gave him a half-smile. "We just did."
"And I'm not done yet," Seto quipped, seizing her face with one hand and crushing his lips against hers. When they parted, she stared back at him with wild eyes, the fire that had been there before, once again reignited. "In fact, I'm just getting warmed up."
xXx
