Breathtaking

A/N: I felt like writing some emotionally-charged smut, so uh... here it is. Warning: mature, explicit content ahead.

He was breathtaking.

Skin sweat-slick and flushed. Eyes heavy-lidded and burning, reflecting the firelight that dimly flickered in the room. She knew those eyes would soon haze over in pleasure, soon close against a rush of sensation. And as much as Kagome loved watching him lose himself like that—become his most vulnerable, his most open—she loved even more these moments before, when his expression was so wholly absorbed, every shred of his focus on her and the movement of their bodies together. It was like every part of him was at her fingertips in that moment, laid bare.

Like he allowed himself to be completely known.

"Inuyasha," she whispered as she swiveled her hips over him, taking him in more deeply, eliciting a long groan from the man beneath her. He gripped her waist, fingers hot and digging into her skin. She braced her hands against his panting torso and began grinding her hips in a slow, undulating rhythm, determined to make him feel every motion insider her. The resulting friction had her moaning and arching her back for a better angle.

She felt the strong flex of his thighs beneath her butt just before a growl vibrated under her hands, and he began thrusting up, his hips rising off the bed to meet the downward push of hers. The force of their combined movements drove him even more deeply into her, and sent sharp bolts of pleasure ricocheting along her spine, through every limb. She cried out for him, and watched his face contort into a look of sheer, ardent need.

"Kago—" his voice cut off in a grunt, a deep-throated groan. His hands slid from her waist to her ass, cupping its curve and pressing her harder against him, encouraging her to increase her pace. She obliged, lifting herself with her knees and sliding back down with more force. He cursed and threw his head back, chest heaving. His silver hair splayed around his head, strands of it clinging to his shoulders and arms. A bead of sweat rolled down his throat, past his collar bones, along the vale of his chest; she couldn't help leaning forward to lick it off his skin, savoring the pungent taste of salt on her tongue.

His eyes sparked and heated. His grip on her tightened, claw tips pricking against her skin, and as he surged up to kiss her, she could only think of how beautiful he was, how breathtaking.

She'd always thought him beautiful, always known he was passionate and fierce; but she never thought she'd get to see him like this. So utterly unguarded, every pretense and bluff stripped away. She'd seen him show passion before—in battle against his enemies, or when pursuing something he truly wanted—but it was always a controlled passion, always kept on a tight rein. Inuyasha, she'd learned, was always guarded, constantly suppressing some part of himself, even if it wasn't intentional. That was simply the man she'd come to love: his life had taught him caution.

But not when he was like this, with her. Not when he was kissing her like her breath was his air, not when he was buried inside her, scorching her from the inside out.

This was Inuyasha, all of him at once, raw and real and robbing her of breath.

His lips left hers to drift down her throat, one hand gripping her hair at the back of her head and tugging, forcing her head back to accommodate his seeking mouth. She gasped and panted, murmured his name as he nipped and sucked at her skin. His other hand rose to her breast, and she couldn't contain her low keening whimper when his palm kneaded the rounded flesh, rubbing against her stiff nipple. Heat blossomed in her belly, roared through her veins, and she still craved more of his burn.

She still straddled his thighs, but his knees were raised now, wedging her between his legs and his torso, limiting her range of motion. Undeterred, she bucked her hips in a series of short, quick thrusts, and squeezed her muscles around the hard throbbing length of him. She heard him choke on a breath—the exhalation hot against her neck—heard his rasping snarl, felt the reflexive jolt of his hips against her... and then he was lifting her up, away from his body.

Before she could even cry out in protest, he had her turned around and positioned on her hands and knees. She felt his hands clamp down tight on her hips, felt his thighs press against the back of hers, and then that hard length settled against her, rubbing and teasing, forcing a moan past her lips. She turned her head, looked over her shoulder to see him kneeling there behind her. Eyes bright as torchlight, hair tumbling around him like moon-silk, chest glistening with a fine sheen of sweat, arms flexing as he convulsively tightened his grip on her hips, tugging her back against him. That blazing gaze held hers, searing into her as he pushed his cock back into the wet welcoming heat of her body.

He went even deeper from this new angle, and she was hard pressed to keep from coming right then. He set a rapid pace, and she did her best to meet him thrust for thrust. She locked her arms so they could bear most of her weight, freeing her lower body to move in rhythm with him. With each thrust, electric waves of pleasure sizzled along her nerve-endings, and she wasn't even aware of her keening cries until he growled, "Fuck, Kagome, you're gonna make me—" He gave an especially hard thrust to finish the thought, jolting her body forward, her legs and arms quivering.

The whole time she watched him, and he watched her. "Keep your eyes on me," he rasped low. "Just on me, Kagome."

As if she ever wanted to look anywhere else.

One of his hands glided up and down her back, along the indent of her spine; the other edged around the front of her hip, down between her legs... and then his fingers were pressing into her clit, simultaneously satisfying and stoking an ache deep inside her. She cried out his name and arched back into his hand, desperate for more pressure, more friction.

And he gave it to her, fingers rubbing hard while he drove his cock into her again and again. The throbbing ache sharpened, contracted, her breath caught in her throat, and then—

The ecstatic flex and release of muscle; the breathless, suspended moment of bliss; the sense of immediate, intense relief pulsing through her body. And all she could do was say his name over and over, eyes intent on his as she came down from her climax.

His breathing was ragged too, his grunts coming faster. His pace increased, his body creating more delicious friction between them.

Then he too reached his bliss, warm liquid spilling inside her as he groaned out some version of her name. His eyes closed, his lips parted, head tilting back as he gloried in the feeling of completion.

And he was so breathtakingly beautiful.

With trembling arms, Kagome pushed herself up until she was kneeling upright—their bodies still connected—with her back pressed against his chest. His arms immediately circled her waist, holding her tightly. She turned her face towards his, her forehead brushing against his chin, and caressed his cheek with her hand.

You're beautiful, she wanted to say. No one can compare to you.

But in that moment, the words felt hollow, brittle. So instead she leaned against him, molded her body to his, and kissed him until she was breathless.