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The night was cool as the storm intensified outside but Byakuya Kuchiki was in a hell of his own making. His body was shot through with tension and need that made it impossible for him to get any rest.
His mind was no better.
It was as if he was the target of an unrelenting barrage and he was loosing because his own self-was turning against him because all he could think about was Rukia; laying under him, her sexy cries in his ears as he possessed her over and over again with his stiffen flesh, the heel of her boot digging into his back. He groaned miserably then turned from his back to his side. He has been doing this for hours but still his erection was insistent. The swollen head jutted pass the waistband of his hakama; the top of it glistening with a bead of seed it had already given up from the unbidden thoughts that came to his mind. He didn't know what else to do at this point. He already spent too much time in his shower, allowing the icy cold water to cascade over him and 'it'. If anything he grew harder which frustrated the hell out of him! He had thought about touching himself and trying to release into his fist but to do that meant that he would have to think about Rukia, the very thing that he was trying not to do and failing.
He removes the top half of his night attire and sweat rolled off his bare chest down his torso. His sack was so heavy they ached tremendously.
Damn it! Why the hell was he feeling so strongly about this now?
Byakuya has not had to deal with this sort of thing in over fifty years so it felt foreign to him to be so hungry for sexual release. Plus the shame of masturbating to the image of Rukia, his own sister, by marriage, yes- but still- it was sending him reeling because as he dimly realized, he almost didn't feel any shame at all and he wondered what that meant. Maybe the feeling was delayed and only his honor which he was holding on to with teeth, nail and some good old fashion Kuchiki stubbornness was preventing him from wrapping his fingers around his cock again and thrusting until his eyes rolled back while thinking about screwing Rukia's brains out.
Spent up to my chin. I didn't even know I could come so hard. Byakuya thought dazed on the second night in this week of sexual torment.
For the last few nights ever since that crazy encounter between them in the Kuchiki Osen, he had found himself unable to sleep the night through. While he was awake, he was able to dive into his work, attacking reports with a lethal stroke of his quill; terminating stacks of papers that might have taken days in hours. His mind kept thoughts of her naked body, water sluicing over her nipples and hanging there at the edge like jewels, prisoner but at night, his body was in torment. So much so that one more than one occasion he had waked to himself thrusting into the sheets or in his own fist. The shameful acts confounded him but the pleasure was always too much to bare and to his eternal shame he continued until there was release so violent his torso was washed with sweat and seed every time.
"Hisanna would turn in her grave if she knew the traitorous thoughts I'm failing to keep at bay." He said softly, his voice drowning in a blast of thunder.
He closed his eyes trying to think of nothing. Trying to feel nothing. Kami knows it's been a long horrible day for him. He had a feeling he should have stayed home but then that bastard Ichigo came and made a mess of things and then Rukia just had to be involved with him. Why did that boy get him so annoyed especially when it came to Rukia? Maybe he didn't want to acknowledge the answer to that question.
He should have just let Renji handle the barracks for the remainder of the time he had to be away from it.
"What is wrong with me?" He questioned himself.
What was the sense of having servants and people to assist him if he didn't allow them to do their jobs? Why he couldn't let everything be as they should. He had to ensure that they were up to his standards. The Kuchiki in him demanded it and sometimes, he really hated that aspect of himself.
He looked down the length of his body; to 'that' stubborn part of his anatomy and commanded very slowly,
"Go to sleep." He hissed at it.
He wasn't hoping for much anyway and when his cock just continued throbbing to the point of bobbing as if it were mocking him, he groaned miserably grabbing one of the pillows and putting it his face.
No, he couldn't continue to masturbate to Rukia's image. It wasn't right! He knew that it wasn't.
Another five minutes passed then Byakuya got up from the bed deciding to try one more method to grasp the sleep he so badly needed and to, maybe, just maybe, kill the part of his anatomy that was now his enemy. He got to the closet and opened the right side then parted the line of white captain coats to a built-in small cabinet he had a hidden sake rack that he kept locked at all times. A man of his status couldn't be seen drinking like a fish as much as he should be with the kind of responsibilities that he has as the head of the clan and the shit he had to deal with on a daily basis. For anything else, he could train and work off some steam and he only indulges on occasion when it was absolutely necessary.
He walked back to his bed and sat on the edge of it. In the morning he could regret his decision but tonight he needed this.
No one would dare disturb him this night, not with the mood and the spiritual pressure he let out just an hour before as he had that argument with Rukia.
Thinking about that he didn't bother with a glass, he just removed the cork from the bottle with an audible 'pop' and put his lips on the rim, drinking deeply. It burned his throat like liquid fire but he welcomed the new feeling anything to distract him from his increasing need to think about the woman that he shouldn't. The indecent acts he wanted to do to her over and over again and how that same woman hated him now.
He continued to drink until his inner voice told him that he's had enough. It didn't feel like he's had enough. It didn't feel like he was now a free man from the claws of reality.
With practiced restraint, he set the sake bottle down on the bedside table and cradle his face in his hands then ran his fingered through his thick long mane. With his head bowed, he took deep breaths. Rukia hated him now and in retrospect, he would hate him too despite his reasons. Why was nothing simple when it came to her. She threw him at every turn, pushed his buttons like no one else in his very long life has ever done and yet none has ever thrilled him more. Made him feel so alive.
She is barely a full grown adult and I have done my share in damaging her as if the slums were not pained enough. And now I want to fuck her? His thoughts reaching a new level of self-loathing. For a man who worshipped logic, it was completely illogical for him to want to be with someone that he ignored, was jealous of for some time because she was the reason his wife couldn't love him completely, tried to kill and then resigned to kill himself because of the confliction of the whole thing.
Too much, Byakuya!
He swung a narrowing glance at the bottle of sake.
Fuck it!
He drained the bottle, gulping down the contains quickly and relishing again the raw burn of it then went for a second.
The food from his dinner stave off the effects of the liquor, delaying the bliss that he so desperately needed right now. He flashed stepped back to the closet to get another bottle as soon as one emptied then again. About a quarter way through the fourth bottle of sake, he started feeling the seeds of buzz blooming, numbing reality into a dull hum at the back of his mind. Finally!
His vision swam a little in the darkened room, lit only by the slim reach of light from the lamp on his desk. He felt a little dizzy from drinking a little too fast, the weight of the bottle in his hand seemed to double. Penance for his rebellion against his sound judgment but he needed the escape if only this once.
Over the roar of the storm outside, Byakuya could have sworn that he heard a knocking somewhere, perhaps on his door.
But that would be impossible, he thought, feeling like his head and his body was separate from one another.
He was still seated on the edge of the bed, staring out into the nothingness of his bedroom, a perfect reflection his life. Just walls of responsibilities and they were so hard to climb. So empty within.
He almost felt like breaking down. It was tempting to feel sorry for himself. To cry and just empty out his soul. To stop being the strong twenty-eighth head of the clan for a few moments and just-
"Nii-Sama." He heard Rukia's voice coming from the other side of his door.
"I'm drunk for sure now because I'm was hearing things." He said to himself chuckling a little to an empty joke only he knew about.
Could he never escape this storm of temptation? Could he never escape from what he couldn't have?
He wanted to scream to the universe, 'I FUCKING GET IT ALRIGHT. I AM ONLY QUALIFIED TO BE ALONE. YOU CAN STOP NOW!'
A mountain of built-up frustration made him throw the bottle of sake against his door, shattering it into a thousand shards; sake ran down the dark mahogany wood in thin rivulets unto the marble floor.
The door open then the object of his miserable desires came rushing into his room. Standing before him like a damn paradox to his logic.
Byakuya notices that her face and hair were wet from the deluge outside. The night yukata she wore, which was made of a thick material, was soaked through and it sticks to her form outlining full breasts, the curve of her hips and the vee in the center of her thighs. His head lolled to the side then he rolls it on his shoulders - left to right. His need for her coming back tenfold.
Damn her for this! The combination of his need and intoxication made all the reasons for not being with her blurred away.
Anger shot through him and he rose to his foot. The alcohol in his blood making his movements sluggish as he straightened to his full height. He half glowered half leered at her.
Why in the ever living hell was she here!? At all times when he was so hard and ready for her.