First Comes Marriage

Chapter 16: The Rut

WARNING: This chapter contains graphic sexual content. Definitely NSFW.

I debated long and hard about posting this chapter on FFNet. I know the site has a stricter regulation when it comes to explicit work, and this chapter definitely is. I had considered taking out the explicit content just for this site, but it is impossible to do so without ruining the integrity of the chapter. Important development happens throughout, and they are weaved through in the sexual acts between the two characters. Taking those bits out will not leave you with the content you deserve.

In the case that this work is reported to a moderator and is deleted, you can find me and my works on both AO3 and Dokuga under the same titles and username. In the mean time, enjoy!

Alone, Kagome sat down on the edge of the upholstered bench inside Sesshōmaru's dressing room. She wiped her face in confusion. What just happened? One moment they were kissing. One moment they were talking. And then, she felt a hard gust of wind inside the room; it nearly knocked her to the floor. Then, there was the sound of a door slamming shut, and suddenly, she was alone.

It's the rut, he had said.

But— what did it mean, exactly? She had learned from Biology classes that some male animals, typically elks and deers, went into a mating season where they exhibited urges to breed. Was this similar?

Only one way to find out.

The night had taken a chill turn. Kagome rubbed her arm, feeling goosebumps rising on her skin. She borrowed one of Sesshōmaru's white shirts. It drowned her, but it was a significant improvement from being naked and chilled to the bone.

Then, she set out to search for her husband.

He was not in their bedroom, perhaps out of his consideration that she should sleep there while he relocated himself elsewhere. That left the guest room at the end of the corridor.

"Sesshōmaru." She gently rapped on the door. "May I come in?"

Only silence answered her. She tested the handle, and the door opened. Peering inside, she saw the room was dark with only one lamp turned on, shining upon the lone figure on the bed. Sesshōmaru was on his side, curled up, and shivering. He made no move to look up, as though all his energy was focused on suppressing the urges of the rut.

He looked like he was in pain.

Slowly, she approached the bed. Placing her hand on his shoulder, she could feel his body heat through his shirt and the clenching of his muscles as he grappled with something she could not see. His inner beast.

"Sesshōmaru," she called softly. "What can I do?"

He shook his head.

"Am I… ovulating? Is that what brought it on?"

He shook his head again. "Your time is coming," he hoarsely said. "But it's not quite here yet. I think… it is because I have wanted you for so long. Perhaps… seeing you naked for the first time sent the beast into overdrive."

He looked up at her, and for the first time, she saw his eye colour alternating between golden and crimson, a proof that his beast was close to the surface, pushing against his veneer of civility.

"Return to our bedroom and rest, Kagome. I will see you in three days."

Even the pitch of his voice had changed, dropping an octave lower, turning his range from baritone to bass.

"Three days?" She repeated. "It takes that long for the rut to subside?"

He nodded.

The thrill that coursed through her was unexpected. A current charged with excitement and… desire.

"What will you do by yourself… for three days?" She asked him. His golden eyes seemed more bright than usual as they stared at her. Feverish.

"I will ride out the rut until it subsides," he said.

Mouth suddenly dry, Kagome swallowed. There must be something wrong with her, because the mental image of Sesshōmaru as a sweaty, writhing mess in bed for three days aroused her. She clamped her legs together to make it disappear, only to amplify it instead.

"In that case—" She heard herself say. "Since I am your wife, can't I help you deal with… this condition?"

He looked at her, somewhat aghast. He even scuttled further away from her, pressing his back against the headboard of the bed.

"No," he simply said.

Her heart dropped into her stomach. "Why not?"

"Kagome. You know why." He chuckled mirthlessly. "Despite your horrendous past experiences, your kind and generous nature would insist on doing this, even if it is not in your best interest."

She bit her lower lip. "Is that… so wrong?"

He shook his head. "I do not wish to be just another male who takes from you."

Her chest clenched with tenderness. Even in the grip of the rut, he imposed self-restraint. For her. His priority remained her well-being.

"Sesshōmaru," she said gently. "You will never be just anyone to me."

He gave her a softened, heavy-lidded gaze. The ferocity of his need was temporarily tempered in that tender moment.

Kagome continued: "In the car coming home from your mother's, you asked me if it's so wrong for you to want to take care of me. Now, I ask you the same question."

"This is… different."

"Explain how."

He licked his lower lip, hesitating. "The things I wanted to do for you: settling your debts, making sure you are living the lifestyle you deserve… Those are for your comfort and well-being. But this… this is physical. Sex during the rut will be… long. Rough. It will be hard on your body."

Gods. Looking at his grim expression, she had no doubt that he meant those words to dissuade her and convince her what a terrible idea it was to have sex with him in this state. However, he did not realize: each word that came out of his mouth fanned the desire she was feeling for him and made her want to do it even more.

She wanted the long, rough, hard ride. With him. For three days, no less.

His eyes widened when she crawled across the bed to climb on top of him, straddling his hips.

"Kagome, don't—"

His self-restraint was commendable, but she was getting impatient with his resistance. Fisting her fingers on his chest, she clutched a handful of his shirt.

"Be quiet and listen to me for a moment, please!"

He arched an eyebrow at her, but he did what she asked.

"You need to have more faith that I know my own feelings," she told him. "I know the difference between having to give pleasure and wanting to give pleasure. Besides," She glared at him. "You are a daiyōkai with a supreme sense of smell. Can't you—" She reddened further, her cheeks aflame. "Can't you… tell how much I want this? How much I want… you?"

At the prompt, he inhaled deeply. The change in his pupils was instantaneous when he scented her readiness. He leaned his forehead on her chest. She could feel his elevated body heat through the thin cotton of his shirt. As he inhaled again, he groaned against her breasts. A tortured sound that made her core soften and wept.

"Your scent, Kagome," he panted hoarsely. "It is calling to me."

His hands slipped under the shirt, touching her bare skin. She gasped and whimpered. His touch made her nerve endings come to life, singing in harmony. Her stiff nipples hurt when they brushed against the fabric. And suddenly, his fingers were there, soothing and teasing in equal measure.

He bent his head to suckle her nipples through the shirt, making the fabric damp and clinging to the pebbled peak of her breasts. Slowly, fingers trembling with a mixture of want and excitement, she unbuttoned her shirt. His breath hitched when her breasts were bared to his gaze, the shirt slipping to puddle around her elbows.

When she reached up to unclasp the pearl necklace, his hand on her elbow stopped her.

"Leave the necklace," he said. His voice was so low it was barely more than a rumble.

Her blush darkened, but she did as he said, lowering her arms until they rested at her sides. He leaned closer to plant an open-mouthed kiss on the side of her neck. The heat of his mouth seared her skin, but she lifted her chin to give him more access.

"I thought the vision of you naked with only a flimsy pair of panties and the pearl necklace was the most arousing sight I've ever seen," he said, kissing a slow trail up her neck. "But somehow… seeing you dressed in my shirt is even more titillating."

His silver head bent down, and he took her breast into his mouth. Rough tongue swirled around the hard nipple in repeated swipes before he went back to suckling, as though starved for her taste. Arching her back, she held his head to her bosoms. Her hips began to move on their own accord, their rhythm matching the strong pull of his mouth. The lace of her panties was so thin she could feel the heat of his erection against her core.

The friction ignited the sparks of pleasure within her. She placed her palms on his shoulders and used those broad planes as leverage. It felt good just rubbing against him like this. When her movements grew erratic, he growled around a mouthful of breast and gripped her buttocks, controlling her rhythm against the turgid column of his cock.

Even though they were plastered together chest to chest, he still appeared as though he was in pain. Gently, she pushed him down until he lay flat on the bed and began to unbutton his shirt, slowly revealing an expanse of pale skin stretched over taut muscles. She struggled to keep her breathing even, but the sight of his bare muscular chest, made slick with a thin sheen of sweat, wreaked havoc on her composure.

He was an example of the perfect male specimen, the epitome of masculine beauty. To think someone so beautiful and powerful was prone underneath her… It defied all kinds of logic.

The contrast between velvety soft skin and iron hard muscles beneath was intriguing. The magenta markings beneath his ribs, matching the ones he had on his face and forearms, were alluring. With her tongue, she traced those twin stripes from his hips to his pelvis, where they swirled down to that place where he was so blatantly male.

He was magnificent there too.

Her head lowered; her tongue darted out to lick the head of his sex. The broken sound of surprise that was torn from his throat filled her with pride. She flicked her gaze to his face, watching his pale skin reddening with blush — a sight she never thought she would see on him. Something in his expression – something close to awe – told her no one had ever done this for him before. Knowing she was the first to pleasure him this way emboldened her. He was fully attuned to her every move. His eyes followed her lips as they went down his length in a tight slide.

His size made her jaw ache and her throat burned. But seeing him like this: helpless, vulnerable, and at her mercy, made her want to give him even more pleasure. This act was not for getting a man to stay and keep her loneliness at bay, or to distract a violent man from hurting her. This was not to fulfill an expectation or a misplaced sense of obligation. She wanted to do it because he was him, and seeing him lost in pleasure somehow made her own even sweeter.

His feverish golden eyes watched her intently as she suckled him, his lips parted to let out harsh panting. When she swirled her tongue around the spongy tip, he let out a long, tortured moan from deep within his chest. His powerful thighs quivered. His fingers tightened around her head in a silent plea.

Knowing what he needed, she slid her lips further down, taking as much of him as she could into her throat. With a strangled cry, his hips bucked against her. He could only give her one word of warning – a broken rendition of her name – before she felt him swelling and spilling inside her mouth.

He was glorious when he came. Ropes of hard muscles tightened and released as his sex pulsed with every spurt under her tongue. All the while, his golden eyes remained on her. Never closing, never straying.

Like he was unwilling to miss a single thing.

He came copiously, but she swallowed it all, sucking on the tip to coax every single drop. The release seemed to have helped. He was still panting, and his eyes still held the crimson tinge, but he no longer looked like he was holding back pain.

Pulling her up to straddle him again, he sought her mouth, not even caring that she had just swallowed his release. His hands were against her shoulder blades as he cradled her close to his chest. That place between her legs begged to be touched, and she whimpered in need, rocking helplessly on his stomach to get some form of friction.

In turn, he urged her to lie on the bed. His fingers delved between her legs to test her readiness and came away drenched.

"Kagome. You're so wet."

Sesshōmaru said those words in such reverence, as though he could not believe she was so aroused by him and the act she had just performed for him. He slipped his hand under the waistband of her panties and pulled, tearing the lace away like it was made of paper.

And then, suddenly, his mouth was there. Tasting her. Licking, suckling, making her moan and writhe uncontrollably on the bed. The barrage of sensations was too much and yet not enough, and her hand alternated between pushing his head away and pressing his face tighter against her core. He bit off the sharp tip of his claws. Two fingers thrust inside her, seeking her sensitive spots as his tongue laved against her bud.

Kagome was not new to sex. But with Sesshōmaru, everything was so different. It was impossible to group her past and present into the same experience. Previously, she had only ever gone through the motions of sex because her partners wanted it. Her pleasure, if any, was rare and fleeting, meaningless. But right now, Sesshōmaru was there with her. She felt cherished in his hands. Treasured. Loved. Her brain could not compute how someone as magnificent as he dedicated so much of himself to give her pleasure. His eyes vigilantly watched her as he worked hard to find the hidden spots that made her cry out and thrash on the bed.

Who knew there are so many?

She propped her upper body on one elbow and pushed his head away when she could take no more, and yet wanting so much more.

"No… Enough with the mouth and the fingers," she panted. A pink blush crested on her cheekbones. "I want… you."

His eyes flashed crimson before they regained their usual honeyed amber colour. He straightened on his knees and crawled over her body like a beautiful predatory animal. She laid back and planted her feet on the bed in preparation, but he stopped her with a gentle knuckle to the chin.

"Put me inside you," he said. "Show me you want this."

Her blush deepened. She had never done anything like this before. But again, she had never wanted anyone like this before. If he needed to be convinced of her desire for him, then so be it.

She curled her fingers around his thickness and guided him. They both sucked in a sharp breath when the head of his sex nudged her core. He slipped against her; she was so wet. She brought him back to her opening and carefully pushed him inside, whimpering when she felt the tip of him splitting her open.

There was resistance. It had been a while for her, and he was large. Biting the inside of her cheek to hold back her moans, she felt even more moisture seeping between her nether lips. Staring up at him, she realized she was not the only one affected. He was breathing heavily. His eyes were riveted to that place where they touched but not yet fully joined. Gingerly, she shimmied her hips and parted her thighs wider, and sank another inch of his length inside her.

It was a slow, tight slide. Every bit of it amplified her need and desire to be filled by him to the brim. Then suddenly, he was more than halfway in. And with earth-shattering amazement, she realized:

There was no pain. There was no shame, or humiliation. There was only pleasure, and tenderness.

The realization brought tears to her eyes. This. This was how it was supposed to feel. The breaching of one's body did not have to feel like a violation. The presence of a male inside her did not have to feel like an invasion. Joining her body with the opposite sex did not have to be an act that left her hollow and wanting and ashamed.

It could be beautiful. It could be… this.

Sensing she was ready for more, he took over, thrusting shallowly at first, and maddeningly slow — as though he intended to make her feel every inch, every ridge and vein. Then, as though he could not stop himself, he pushed in with a firm snap of his hips, sliding deep until he could go no further.

Kagome cried out when she felt him bumping against a sensitive spot deep inside her. The jagged bolt of ecstasy tore through her. White stars burst behind closed eyelids. Her orgasm took her by surprise, but she rode the waves, undulating against his body, and rose even higher over the precipice of pleasure.

… …

Sesshōmaru watched in amazement as Kagome came apart in his arms. After only one thrust.

How long… how many times had he imagined this: her body pressed against him, beneath him, surrounding him. The soft flesh of her inner thighs bracketing his ribs as she gripped him tight inside her, practically convulsing with the intensity of her orgasm. The feel of her wrapped around him was not something he could describe with words. If she had not pleasured him with her mouth earlier, he would have followed her.

He held still, propping himself on both arms as he staved the blinding need to thrust and claim. The sight of her rapturous face beneath him would forever be branded in his memory. When he felt her coming down from her peak and relaxing around him, he started to thrust. Slowly, gently. Each drag, each pull of his cock scraped the walls of her insides, drawing mewls and whimpers from her lips. She was so soft, even as she started to clench around him again, so tightly he could scarcely move. Her blunt nails sank into the quilted muscles of his arms as he rolled his hips carefully, trembling with his efforts to hold back.

It was painful, but the best kind of pain he ever — or would ever experience. Remaining motionless was impossible, so he moved infinitesimally to give her more time to adjust. But his wife was already lifting her hips in a way that urged rougher motions, further enticing his beast to come out and ravish her. His self-imposed restraint was frayed, already hanging by a thread. Even now, red began to bleed into his vision. The beast howled inside, enraged at being reigned in when all it wanted to do was to take its female with the ferocity and passion long denied.

"Kagome, no—" His harsh voice sounded like a wounded animal.

He felt his eyes fully turning. Shutting them tight, he buried his face against the crook of her neck to hide himself from her. Razor-sharp claws dug into the mattress, shredding the bedclothes. Panic began to override pleasure. He was shaking all over, in the cusp of breaking and yet holding fast onto the last vestiges of his sanity.

The feel of her touch pierced the thick cloud of his overwhelming panic. Her hands were gentle upon him, rubbing against his neck. Roaming his arms, shoulders, and back. All the while, he wanted to nuzzle his face into her palm and whimper, pleading for her acceptance.

"Sesshōmaru." She coaxed him to lift his head, her hands cupping his face. Her velvety brown eyes were staring openly at him, even though he must have looked like a monster. Her lips brushed against the corner of his mouth, the tip of her tongue tracing one elongated fang.

"It's okay to let go," she whispered, kissing his jawline tenderly. "I want you. All of you."

The last thread of his resistance snapped.

… …

He flipped her over, flattening her breasts and belly against the mattress. She shook. Not from fear, but from excitement, and impatience. His strength both thrilled and aroused her. Although he was inhuman, although he had transformed, there was nothing about him that frightened her.

When he clamped his jaw on the sensitive spot where her neck and shoulder met, instead of shrinking away, her body responded with more slick between her legs. His much larger frame eclipsed hers as he pinned her down on the bed, pressing their bodies together from neck to toes. She moaned helplessly when he impaled her to the hilt. He held her there with his jaw, firm but not biting, as he set a rapid pace, pumping relentlessly against the soft cushion of her rear.

The wet, lewd sounds of their bodies colliding echoed inside the room. His low grunts and her high-pitched moans added to the soundtrack of their coupling. He was thrusting so intensely, she could not stop herself from moaning even if she wanted to. It felt so good. So good. As if it was not enough, he shifted her position, rotating her hips more towards him. He lifted her left leg, the back of her knee resting on the inside of his elbow as he opened her up to take more of him. He felt massive in this position, going so deep that she felt him ramming her cervix with every thrust.

Kagome held onto a pillow when the movements of his hips became more vigorous, more unhinged. Primal. His arms anchored her as he pounded her with the strength and speed only a demon lord was capable of. Lashes spiky with tears, her mouth was open in a silent scream. She was on the verge of another climax. How could it be too much, and yet not enough?

She cried out pleadingly. Just a little more. A little more…

Suddenly, his fingers were there, pinching her clit and pushing her over the precipice. She shivered underneath him, bucking against the solid body that caged her, keening her pleasure in a high-pitched wail. The back of her head pushed against his broad shoulder as she arched against him, lost in the throes of climax. Still, he was there every step of the way. Lacing his fingers with hers, growling his praises in her ear.

And she revelled in that deep, bestial sound. The bass rumble of approval that made her spine tingle.

She was so sensitive after her last orgasm, but he gave her no time to recover. He guided her to raise herself onto all fours, and as she shook with the remnants of her most recent peak, he plunged into her again. She threw her head back and cried her pleasure. The ecstasy spread, escalated. One of his hands sought her breasts, kneading the supple mounds while the other returned to strum between her legs. She whimpered his name, one arm reaching back to clutch the silk of his hair as he continued nibbling on her shoulder.

His beast was still in control, though his movements were more sinuous now, less animalistic. There was a gentle side to his beast that she loved as much as its rough, primal side. He kept himself inside her, not pulling out, but thrusting in deep-seated nudges. The head of his cock filled a pocket of nerves deep inside her, somewhere near the door to her womb, stimulating that spot repeatedly until she sobbed and begged in broken, unintelligible moans.

He loved her like this for a long time, bringing her to one completion after another, turning her into a quivering mess. Her inner thighs were soaked with their combined juices. He had spilled inside her several times, though he was still exceedingly swollen and rigid at the end of it all.

When she came down from yet another orgasm, she felt the repeated swipe of his tongue on the nape of her neck. Felt his gentle nibbles on her flesh. He wanted to bite her, she realized. Mark her properly as his mate. Still, the tip of his fangs never sank deep enough. They would leave imprints, but she knew they would not break skin — not tonight.

Because on the day of their Omiai, he had promised: 'I will not ask you to commit to it until you are confident it is what you want.'

He was suppressing his natural urges for her sake, patiently waiting for her, even when his beast must be eager to consummate their mating.

Gently, Kagome pulled away from her husband. He growled in displeasure when he had to leave the warmth of her body. She turned to lie on her back and opened her arms to beckon him to come to her.

"Like this," she pleaded. "Please."

When he did not move, Kagome trailed her hand from her neck to her breast, down to her stomach and lingered there. His crimson eyes with the turquoise slit followed the path of her fingers, mesmerized. She moved again, languidly tracing an invisible path from her belly button down to that place between her legs. There, under his watchful gaze, she spread her nether lips apart to show him how her womb was so full of his seed, it dripped out of her in steady rivulets.

There was no question to whom she belonged.

… …

The beast calmed, rumbling its approval at the erotic sight.

After numerous releases, it had receded a little. Not sufficient for his consciousness to take over, but just enough to allow some room for thoughts.

His beast wanted — no, needed the bite to join their life forces together. It would be irrefutable, irrevocable proof that Kagome was theirs. Yet, Sesshōmaru knew his wife was not ready for the mating bite, and she understood just as well. If this rut was intense, the mating would be even more so. She needed to be sufficiently prepared. Improper mating with an inuyōkai could lead to severe injuries for the female. Especially a female human, whose body was not originally designed to mate with a demon.

Still, Kagome had offered a form of reassurance, and the beast was mightily pleased when she opened herself to show him the proof of his possession. She was covered in his seed, in his scent.

When she opened her arms again, he did not hesitate. He prowled up her body, his nose brushing lightly against her skin as he scented her. Then finally, he covered her once more, rooting deep and bottoming out in one thrust, immediately setting another ferocious pace that made her arch sharply underneath him. She let out a suppressed cry; her teeth clamping down on his shoulder in a gesture that was surprisingly savage. There was no more resistance, as though her tunnel had moulded to his shape after their repeated couplings. When their bodies were pressed so tight like this, skin to skin, he could feel himself moving inside her through layers of flesh and sinew on her belly.

"More, please—" She panted, her teary eyes staring up at him. "More…"

Tears were streaking down her face, but he knew it was not because of grief, but the intensity of their joining. He knew allowing sex and intimacy was not an easy feat for her. And so, for her to trust him enough to ask for more, he felt the significance so acutely in his chest.

Kissing her, tangling his tongue with hers, he never stopped the movements of his hips. He was intent on giving her everything she wanted and needed. The wide stance of his knees kept her thighs open, fully spread to take each thrust that was powerful enough to jolt her body towards the headboard. Her breasts bounced enticingly; the hardened tips rubbing against his chest. He kept his pace unhurried and steady, wanting to savour their joining a little longer. The rough pad of his thumb moved against her clit in slow, circular motions.

When she clawed at his chest, he knew to quicken his motions. No mercy now, he pumped fiercely into her, his pelvis slapping against the juncture of her thighs. And when she flew apart in his arms once more, it was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. This. This was how she should always take her pleasure: unabashedly, unapologetically, untamed. He kept thrusting through her orgasm, prolonging her peak while she clung to him so sweetly, moaning her raptures in his ear.

It was impossible to take her in by small doses. He was helpless to stop himself from gorging on her. Any self-discipline he had cultivated throughout the millennia of his existence was forgotten, thrown out of the window. Even after releasing so many times inside her, he could hardly calm down. His shaft was still as rigid as it had been before.

The lines between rutting and pining blurred. He could no longer tell if his hunger was due to the haze of rut, or her long absence from his life. Perhaps it was both. Perhaps it was her.

"I need you again," Sesshōmaru murmured against his wife's ear, voice still rough from his transformation. "Can you take more?"

She could only manage a grunt, but her arms wrapping around his neck and her ankles locking at the small of his back were the only answers he needed.

Three days later…

The sun shining on her face woke Kagome up, along with numerous faint ding coming from her phone in the other room that signalled someone, somewhere had placed an order through her e-commerce system.

She cracked one eye open. The first thing she saw was a message propped on her nightstand, written in Sesshōmaru's handwriting:

Come downstairs for breakfast.

Her stomach growled at the thought of food. She stirred and made a move to rise from slumber, swinging her legs down the side of the bed.

Immediately, she winced.

Sudden movements were definitely not a good idea.

Gingerly, she stepped onto the floor, and slowly raised herself up to her feet. She felt exactly how she should feel after three days of sex marathons with a daiyōkai in a rut: legs soft like jelly, lips swollen, breasts heavy and tender, her entire body aching in the best possible way.

Inside the bathroom, she looked at herself in the mirror. There were deep pink love bites peppered all over her body; she would have to wear turtleneck sweaters for weeks. It felt so empty without him as a part of her body, and yet she felt full at the same time. He had spilled so much inside her, his seed still dripped from between her thighs.

What she really needed was a bath, she thought as she gazed at the tub longingly, but she was unsure if it would be wise to rid the traces of their couplings. She had never rutted before, especially not with a daiyōkai with a keen sense of smell whose beast might take offence to his scent being washed away. Erring on the safe side, she decided to postpone her ablutions, and limited her cleansing to brushing her teeth and putting on a fresh pair of underwear and clothing.

As she made her way downstairs, the smell of hot food cooking on the stovetop made her mouth water, especially since she subsisted only on water and not much else for the past three days. Sesshōmaru came out of the kitchen just in time to see her coming down, teetering along the edge of the staircase one step at a time.

He rushed to the stairs to pick her up and carried her to the dining table.

"In hindsight, perhaps our first time could have been gentler," he said wryly as he sat her down on one of the chairs.

Kagome snorted. "I wouldn't change a single thing for all the gold in the world."

She felt him smiling against her hair. "So— there is to be a repeat performance, then?"

It was difficult to suppress the blush when she recalled the passion and pleasure they shared between them during the past three days.

"My joints hurt, I don't think I can spread my legs anytime soon," she said, giving him a look somewhere between shyness and a mock glower. "You will have to think of some creative positions."

"Worry not. I have many ideas I've collected for the last five centuries," he said as he kissed her temple, chuckling when he felt her fists drumming against his chest.

Sesshōmaru placed her breakfast in front of her: fluffy scrambled eggs, sautéed matsutake mushrooms, and slices of fresh tomatoes. Her eyes nearly burst out of their sockets when she realized he had cooked for her.

Then, on a separate plate: four perfect triangles browned to perfection, crusts cut away and discarded, leaving only neat, clean edges.

"You made toasts too?" She asked, rather dumbfounded, looking up at him as he came around to pour her a cup of tea.

"The toaster made the toasts," he clarified. "But I did the rest."

She was so ravenous, she asked for two more helpings after polishing her first serving. He heaped a massive amount of food on her plate and urged her to eat, content to watch her shovel forkful after forkful into her mouth while he sat across from her and sipped a cup of black coffee.

His scrambled eggs were made the European way: stirred continuously over very low heat until it reached a creamy, custardy texture that simply melted in her mouth and made her swoon. He flavoured the dish only with a pat of salted butter, a little cracked black pepper, and chopped tender tips of scallion sprouts.

"This is the best scrambled eggs ever," she told him after finishing her third plate. "How did I not know you're such a gourmet?"

"Don't get too excited," he said, smiling at her from above the rim of his cup. "This is about the only dish I can make."

She would not mind eating it every day, she thought. Their cook made exceptionally delicious dishes three times a day, but there was something about him cooking for her that felt so special.

"Come to think of it, where is everyone?" Kagome asked, looking around. He employed several people to run and maintain the house, and yet it was as quiet as a mausoleum that morning.

"Our staff members are part yōkai," Sesshōmaru pointed out. "They must have detected the rut and knew well enough to stay away. They will not return until they sense it is safe and appropriate to do so."

Her cheeks warmed up knowing their entire household had knowledge of what took place during the past three days. But… oh well. She was married to a yōkai, and will be surrounded by more yōkai in the future, all of whom possessed superior senses. She needed to accustom herself to the new circumstances and cease feeling so self-conscious all the time.

"Are you staying at home today or will you go to the store for a shift?" Sesshōmaru asked, shifting her attention back to him.

She finished her tea. "Since it's already this late, I'm thinking about saying home," she said. "I also have twenty-seven orders I need to start working on."

She had to call in sick yesterday. Her voice was so shaky and hoarse from the non-stop moaning and screaming that they believed her straight away that she was ill — no questions asked. She would most likely make a similar call again today. The store would not pay her for the shifts she missed, but if her business continued to flourish, her side earnings would more than make up for those paycheques.

Sesshōmaru approached to clear the dishes from the table. He nuzzled his nose against her neck, breathing in her scent one more time.

"If I promised to leave you alone to work on your orders," he murmured. "May I stay at home with you?"

"You may stay," she said, giggling when he lightly bit her ear. "As long as I can take a shower."

"The rutting urges have diminished, and the beast is content for now," he told her. "It is safe to bathe or shower. Thank you for delaying to check with me."

She kissed him on the cheek before he left to take the plates back into the kitchen. The phone on the landline rang while she was on her way to go upstairs for a bath. She reached for the receiver – mere inches away from her left hand.

"Moshi moshi, Inuzuka residence," she said cheerfully when she picked up.

There was no sound coming from the other end of the line. It was as though her voice had stunned the caller into silence. She repeated the greeting.

The caller finally spoke.

"Kagome."

Now, it was her turn to be stunned to silence. She would recognize this voice anywhere. Even though it no longer carried the careless exuberance of youth, the cadence in which he said her name had not changed. The entire weight of memories from feudal era, both cherished and hated, crashed down upon her.

"Kagome. Is that… you?"

She could not even nod her head, let alone speak.

"It's me, Inuyasha."

Author's Notes:

It is such a relief to get this chapter out. It has been a long time coming (haha). From the beginning I have wondered what their first time would be like. It turned out to be more graphic than I originally intended, but I hope this chapter was more than smut (or perhaps porn in this case), and both of their emotions - his yearning and the rebirth of her passion - were evident.

Thank you so much for reading. I hope it was enjoyable :) I have received such overwhelming support and interest for this story, it is much more than I ever thought it would receive. Please keep the comments coming. I always love to read your thoughts about the chapter. Until next time!