He was surprised—pleasantly so.
It seemed that perhaps his little secretary had finally learned her lesson . He had all but expected her to bolt out of the house early in the morning like her previous actions. Instead, he woke up to the smell of her intoxicating scent still present in the guest bedroom. Realizing she would not be up for a while, he decided against putting on a shirt and stayed with silk pajama bottoms to exit his bedroom.
Besides, it could work to his advantage if she did wake up early.
He smirked at that thought.
How long would it take her to admit her attraction?
If it was even there.
"Insult you by throwing myself at you—"
Those words kept ringing through his head.
Insult him? Was she truly so blind? Could she be? After all the advanced he had shown her? Everything he had done for her?
Shaking the thoughts off, he proceeded into the kitchen while contemplating on what to make for his special house guest. Skimming through the fridge, he grabbed some eggs, bacon, and some fruit. Beginning the preparations for breakfast he mulled over if he should wait for her wake or take the action himself. Deciding on the latter, he began to put his plan in motion.
His silver hair all but fell around her body like a curtain. Shielding her from everything other than him. The perfect distraction. But he had always been good at that.
Being the perfect distraction.
How had they gotten like this?
Was this another one of those dreams?
How many did that make this week? Five?
Staring at those amber eyes that haunted her day and night, she took in a quick breath.
God.
Did he realize how beautiful he was? Probably.
Almost as if reading her mind, he gave her that smirk. That was the last thing she needed if she was to regain control of the situation. But it was clearly too late, and after all, she knew what this was. Another one of those dreams—or a nightmare depending on how she looked at it. Throwing away all her self-control that she had used in her previous dreams, she, for once, stopped fighting his advances.
No, she would enjoy this.
She would allow her this guilty pleasure.
Just once.
Looking up at him, she mirrored that damn smirk he would always bestow on her and decided to enjoy this piece of escape from her real life.
"Sesshoumaru…"
Without a skip of a beat, the Daiyoukai gave her a mildly surprised look at that sudden spark presented in her. Giving him a little chuckle, she beckoned him closed with her bedroom eyes. Hell, who was she to deny a dream that would never happen in real life? Who was she to deny what her body was clearly craving. Everything about him was so elegant, beautiful and magnificent—and then there was her.
Why he had hired her in the first place was beyond her. Sure, she was pretty but wasn't she exactly the opposite of the kind of person he tolerated?
Apparently not.
That had been what she had learned. For one reason or another, he had kept her around. Time and time again. For that, she was both grateful and alarmed. Trying to shake off such thoughts, she brought her attention to the Daiyoukai that was currently on top of her, observing her every single feature.
"Are you hungry?"
Kagome's eyes furrowed. Hungry? Oh god. Was he talking about that? Her eyes went wide with embarrassment and she suddenly became mute. Did he mean? Could he?
"Are you hungry for breakfast?"
Breakfast? At a time like this? When she was soaking wet and burning with desire for him?
What an odd dream.
Not like the others at all.
"Kagome."
And then it happened.
Her eyes opened from the scandalous dream and she came face to face with no one other than the Daiyoukai—her boss.
One who had a knowing grin.
And what appeared to have breakfast in his hand.
It took nearly a minute for either of them to move. And another minute for her to realize what was occurring. Another dream had happened. However, instead of being in the private of her home—it was in his. And somehow, the dream and real life had become entangled.
To make matters worst, she was all but sure he had smelled it on her.
Or even heard her talking in her sleep.
"Uhhhh…"
She tried to find words.
Tried to find a way out of being mortified and embarrassed.
But his smirk and twinkle in his eyes told her all she needed.
He knew.
Everything.
Cursing at the gods above, she tried to think of an explanation.
"Enjoy your breakfast, Kagome."
His voice had purred. Like that in her dreams. The smirk on his face widened as he set the plate down and exited her bedroom. When the door closed, she buried her head in the covers.
"Fuck!"
Was purring a sign of happiness?
If so, he was surely purring.
She had dreamt about him.
Not just dreamt.
Thought.
Felt.
Desired.
The moment he had gone to try to surprise her—she had instead surprised him. The scent was everywhere, and the low whimpers coming from the bedroom were far too hard to miss. Or maybe he just didn't want to miss such a victory. So he did the only thing he could, he listened. He gloated. He flourished in it.
He listened to her pleas.
To the beckoning of her scent.
It had nearly drove him crazy.
But then he had all but lost control. Her scent. The scent of her desire had nearly made him lose himself to his beast. So he had knocked on the door and regained control. When she didn't answer, he had simply barged in. It had taken a while to get her out of her dream—but he had managed it.
Reluctantly.
The realization on her face had been all he needed to see.
The embarrassment.
The understanding.
Oh yes, it seemed like he was not the only one that had an issue with desire—or self control.