Part IV
.
Her wet heat is intoxicating and he eagerly latches on, fingers pumping and knuckle-deep at work as he licks and presses himself against her clit.
The very essence of her envelops all of his senses, from the taste of her slick- thick and heady on his tongue, right down to the needy breathless noises she makes as he draws out her euphoria. These waves of pleasure that he brings send her toes curling, leaves her mewling for more as her walls clamp tightly around him.
It's not enough. He knows it in the desperate, near violent tugs on his hair, the rake of her fingernails into the flesh of his back. She wants more of it.
His alpha wants him. His alpha wants more and Ichigo is only too happy to provide.
Yes, he thinks as he doubles down on his effort, a strong grip on both thighs to keep them apart and his tongue delves deep into her folds. There is an unmistakable hitch in her breath as he finds her spot, licks and sucks with the occasional press of his tongue flat against it.
His world is beautiful then as shades of violet bloom and sear into his eyes. The curse and scream of his name as she comes undone, melting into a puddle of lust and sprawled mess of limbs on top of him, is sweet and tempting. Her fingernails sink deep into his flesh, sharp enough to draw blood but he smiles through the pain.
It's not enough. His member twitches. He wants to give her more of him. He can give her more.
Only he can give her more.
Rukia!
.
Ichigo wakes up with a start, his body warmed and flushed, groaning as he flops back onto bed, draping an arm across his eyes.
It was only a dream.
Today marks the third day after the heat. He should be back to normal now, back to his life before that strange and random rainy-day encounter in the elevator. Ichigo is sure there is nothing wrong with him. This is hardly his first heat.
No, his mind whispers; but this is the first heat he's spent in the presence of someone else. Things are different this time with an alpha who saw him through his heat and his inner omega is only too eager to remind him, if his raging hard-on is any indication at all, of how much he misses her.
Alpha was good to him. Rukia took care of him, made sure he didn't starve, drank enough water and held him as they cuddled in bed. The five days he spent coated in her scent and slick was heaven on earth. The press of their bare naked skin hot against each other sooths him and his feverish mind. The memory of knotting in her leaves his mouth dry, his scent gland warm and tingly even now.
But what goes up must come down.
After the high and euphoria of being held and cared for by her, comes the withdrawal. Her presence is like a drug his body craves. Even after the numerous baths and showers, her scent lingers. His body is still on the edge, embarrassingly so as his dreams turn out to be nothing more than consecutive episodes of lazy wet dreams filled with her.
The dreams are vivid and intense. They leave him wanting more, urging him to seek her out again so they can complete the mating bond. Despite what Ichigo says and thinks, the omega refuses to listen. He wants to be hers. He wants to be marked and claimed by her, and maybe in turn be allowed to claim her as well.
Ichigo sighs, biting the insides of his cheek. He is an idiot he thinks. Hasn't she made things abundantly clear when he came out from his heat unmarked and unscented?
She doesn't want him. So why can't he stop thinking about her?
He shifts, cursing at the way his cock stands stiff and proud. He sucks in a deep breath. Shutting his eyes as his hand slips under the band of his boxers, gripping his member, touching himself, imagining that it is Rukia's touch instead.
His breath hitches. His mind is fixated on her.
If he tries hard enough, he thinks he can almost feel the taste of salt on her skin, the heady smell of her scent wrapped around him, see the way her body arches above him as violet eyes hold him captive, the way her pink tongue rolls in her mouth to form the syllables of his name, slow and needy—
Ah!
His thighs and hand feel sticky. He is ashamed and embarrassed at how he barely lasts one fisted stroke before shooting his load. His libido is at an all-time high, worse than when he was a hormonal teenager, but it still feels inadequate somehow. His body is still thrumming, in need for more when he had just made a mess of himself.
The grip of his left hand on his cock feels wrong. Rukia's hands are softer, cooler and smaller than his own. Pleasuring himself feels dirty somehow when she isn't there to watch, to replace his hand with something warmer and better like heat of her mouth or her pussy.
He scowls as he picks himself up and heads over to the bathroom. He doubts he is getting any sleep after this anyway. The cleaning products are useless. Parts of the bed still smell like her.
On second thought, maybe he should get rid of the mattress too.
The bathroom lights flicker as he switches them on and he squints at the sudden brightness. The time display on his phone reads 4.30 a.m. as he yawns and turns the faucet to run water cold enough to make his teeth chatter, cursing as he steps into the icy cold.
It is a welcomed distraction against thoughts of Rukia. Ichigo Kurosaki has enough things on his plate as it is. He doesn't need distractions that come in the form of pretty alphas with their equally pretty eyes, especially when he is supposed to be delivering his presentation on the Las Noches project later that morning.
The acquisition of the technology company lauded by many as the next Apple is a point of much contention among the higher-ups in SS. As the lead financial analyst, Ichigo's job is to analyse the numbers and present the findings unbiased. He wants nothing more than to do it well in front of the board, so they can make an informed decision on whether or not to proceed with the purchase.
He gulps. Public speaking has always made him nervous. The only silver lining in his sleeplessness is that it gives him more than enough time to go through his presentation notes and practice again.
Maybe it will calm him down.
.
.
Surprise—
It doesn't.
The clock is ticking. There's only 15 minutes more to go before the presentation starts and Ichigo is nowhere near the meeting room. Instead, he is there on the building's rooftop garden, leaning against the rails as he tries to clear his mind.
Above him, summer skies are grey and overcast, leaving the open air garden deserted and green for him to hide away among the foliage. The air is warm enough for him to shrug off his blazer, keeping it folded under his arm.
He digs up the cigarette pack hidden in the depth of his pocket. Listless fingers zero in on one and the zippo in his hand clinks shut as he lights it up. At the first hit of nicotine, the familiar inhale-exhale mechanism that his body remembers, his fingers- previously jittery as fuck stills and the tenseness in the set of his shoulders lifts.
Warm smoke fills his lungs. He exhales. The feel-good drag is still every bit as good and golden as he remembers.
Brown eyes peer down listlessly at the busy road traffic at street level, the newly lit cigarette caught between his teeth.
Ichigo is not proud of it. His sisters, if present, would give him an earful about how he's slowly killing himself with them and he doesn't blame them. Smoking is bad and he knows it. It is unlike him to indulge in such a disgusting habit. He swears he kicked the habit when he decided to move to the city and start over.
But the stress got to him and old habits die hard.
"Smoking kills, you know?"
He turns, surprised by the sudden intrusion. The newcomer's voice is achingly familiar and he almost splutters, his grip on the cigarette going slack.
It's Rukia!
The click-clacks of her stiletto heels echo noisily as she approaches from behind. With the added height, he muses that she might just be tall enough to reach his shoulders. Her starch white work blouse and neatly pressed pencil skirt screams at him to keep his cool, reminding him that they are at work.
He swallows, occupies his hands by taking another drag from the cigarette. The omega in him whines. He wants- oh how he wants. He wants to see her without her clothes on- naked and flushed beside him as they touch skin to skin. He wants to brush off tendrils of the shoulder length hair teasing at her collarbones and replace them with his lips and fingers.
"You seem nervous."
"I'm fine," he lies.
Rukia tuts, wrinkling her nose as she stops in front of him, arms akimbo.
"I didn't know you were a smoker. You didn't smell like one."
"That's because I'm not. I'm not a chain smoker. This is a last minute pick-me-up before my presentation."
Ichigo hates how the words tumble out of him in a rush but he is desperate to clear his name. Even though he isn't exactly sure why he should care if Rukia forms a bad impression of him; point is, he doesn't want her to and that seems motivation enough.
The corners of her lips curl in faint amusement, "Not a fan of public speaking, I take it."
"Hell no," he admits in between puffs, "But enough about that. Why are you here?"
Then eyes narrowing, "Are you stalking me?"
Rukia rolls her eyes.
"I was here first, Sherlock. If anything it's you who's doing the stalking."
Ichigo frowns. He wasn't really looking when he clambered up the stairs leading to the rooftop and she is tiny enough that he wouldn't notice her immediately. She has her blockers on, he realizes. Her scent is faint and weak enough to be covered by the overwhelming mixture of burning tobacco, blooming flowers and wet earth from the potted plants.
"Why are you here then?" he asks instead.
"I like being in high places. Looking down from being perched up high, the view is always better. It's like there's nothing out there that can touch you. It makes you feel invincible. It's… calming."
"Ah."
Ichigo thinks he understands- the need to feel invincible when the world at large leaves you feeling small and defeated at the best of times. As a female alpha, they might be more alike than he would like to admit. Rukia is just as much of an outcast as he is in their world of cookie-cut female omegas and male alphas.
The wind picks up then and the clouds part. He can't look away- not from the way a sliver of sunshine breaks through to shine on her, rendering her eyes a shade lighter. He stares, transfixed by the way her lips curve with her black hair billowing in the wind. His hand moves, itching to tuck the stray bang between her eyes behind her ears.
He catches himself just in time, annoyed at the way he lowered his guard.
"Yeah, I can see why that would be calming for you," Ichigo quips, biting his tongue, "with that sort of height. I bet it's really nice to have everything looking much smaller than you and not look up for a change."
"Rude!"
Rukia pouts but still she steps closer towards him.
Ichigo frowns. With his back against the rail there's nowhere else to go. And he'll be damned if he lets himself show his unease in front of her. What happens in a heat, stays in a heat; or so, he keeps telling himself despite his quickening heartbeat, pupils blown wide at the sight of her approach.
Faster than he can blink, she tiptoes, deftly plucking the cigarette right out of his lips and crushes it under the heel of her shoe.
"Hey—"
He is interrupted by the firm press of her lips against his. What happens next is down to pure instincts. With a growl, he grabs her, pulling her flush against him.
It is … exhilarating. Everything- everything is happening in slow motion. Like pixels on a screen that have been rendered to a higher definition and better resolution, being in Rukia's presence has a way of making his senses come alive, sharper.
Rukia's kisses are fierce and demanding, made bittersweet by a hint of dark roasted coffee lingering on her lips. Her teeth are sharp and she doesn't pull punches when it comes to getting things done her way and getting her intentions across. She dictates, pulls him down and watches on as his world spirals out of control, drowning in her presence.
When they are pressed so tightly to each other, her scent blankets him. He misses this- this warmth, this layer of assurance that is her surrounding him, cocooning him until the noises fade and cease. There is the two of them, the sound of their hearts beating in sync.
Here, right now, he is untouchable.
His fists unclench and he is breathing her in as deeply as he can, trying to commit every part of her to memory. It is every bit as lovely and thrilling as he remembers.
Ichigo doesn't think, doesn't hesitate. There is no room for that, not when Rukia is there to be savoured and pleased. He leaves the second guessing, overthinking outside the door.
With her, his world simply ascends to a higher dimension that is touch, warmth, scent and heat. His fingers slide through her hair, his other hand straying to press on the small of her back. Her clothes are in the way. He needs her closer still. He reacts the only way he knows how- to growl when she bites, to let his tongue curl at hers when she coaxes at him, to press closer still until they turn breathless and all traces of oxygen leaves their combustible bodies.
The kiss ends too soon for his liking but it is enough to leave them both pink in the face and breathing hard.
Amber eyes narrow at the sight of her flushed cheeks and glassy eyes mirroring his. Her mussed up hair, the slightly wrinkled clothes make him grin even when he feels the sharp sting from the cut on his lips and tastes blood.
Rukia bites and it scares him that a part of him is nonplussed by the fact. A part of him wants to do this over and over again with her until her mark sinks in and scars- a physical reminder that he is hers and no one else's.
"Just as I thought, it's disgusting."
Ichigo flinches, feeling like he got punched hard in the face. His heart leaps to his throat and the pain of rejection twists like a knife in his gut. He bites his tongue to swallow his whine and keeps his fists clenched as they pick up his fallen blazer.
She hates him!
But Rukia barely glances up as she tugs at the slightly hiked up skirt and fixes her hair.
"Don't do that again. I hate the smell and taste of cigarettes. Especially when it's on you," her nose wrinkles.
The relief that he feels from hearing those words is palpable. The emotional rollercoaster makes him dizzy and leaves him a little weak in the knees. One minute he is in the fiery pits of Hell and the very next, feeling like he has won the lottery and is crowned king of the world.
A saucy wink follows as violet eyes stare into his. And Ichigo is torn between his desires to wringing her neck and kissing her again. This is what she reduces him to.
"I think this is a much better way of calming you down."
Ichigo can feel his face colouring. The idea of presenting in front of a crowd leaves his palms sweaty and mind ragged from worry. He worries that someone is going to find him lacking and poke holes through his findings. Then the world is going to think he's a fraud, calling into question the quality of his work and find out about his secret.
But being with Rukia— his anxiety melts away to something else entirely. He doesn't have the time to think or worry about something as trivial as work when he is in her presence. Her kisses are a poison and drug infinitely more potent than cancer-inducing tobacco. He doesn't think this craving will ever subside and he is not strong enough to consider quitting.
She is a tidal wave- a whirlpool even but he is the poor soul who is in too deep to even fathom the idea of pulling out from her influences. This woman- Alpha! — She is truly the best and the worst.
How can he even begin to describe what he feels for her?
.
Rukia is smiling as she makes her way towards the exit. Violet eyes are glimmering and still as mesmerizing as ever as she waves goodbye.
"I have to go now but good luck on your presentation!"
Ichigo does nothing but stare, mind struck dumb and unable to even think of a retort until she is completely gone from his line of sight. At the back of his mind, he resolves to never touch another cigarette ever again.
Not if Rukia says she doesn't like the smell and taste of them on him.
The lack of mating mark does not seem to deter the omega in him at all. Whether he likes it or not, there is a part of him that considers Rukia as his alpha and that is not likely to change any time soon.
.
.
.
Author's note:
Spare the cancer stick, kiss an alpha. xD
It's Rukia's birthday. Anything can happen. ;)
