Hichigo did not waste time looking at the woman before he took her into his arms in a bridal carry to bring her into the house. It was not as if he could see anything anyway. She had bundled herself up completely, even covering her face, to guard against the weather. Despite having dressed for the harsh elements, her body had endured all it could from the extreme conditions. At least the poor idiot had gone out prepared to stumble around in the disorienting blizzard. He took her to the study, the one room in the house that was warm due to the fire in the fireplace. He gently lay her down on the exquisite hand-woven Chinese rug to put her as close as possible to the heat source. He could not care less about the damage the antique rug would incur from the snow that was falling off of her clothes. After tossing another cord of wood on the dying fire, he poked around in the embers to stir the flames back to life to light the new wood. He also wanted to thaw out his half-frozen guest before she fell victim to hypothermia. He knelt beside her, deciding to start at the top to undress her. First he snatched off the fur cap complete with ear flaps then proceeded to carefully untwist the thick wool scarf that was a less than attractive dingy green color from around her head. Hair as white as the snow, just like his, stood out from her head in all directions giving her the appearance of a dandelion. Her hair was exceptionally short except for the front that covered her face down to her chin. Without bothering to push back the hair that was the texture of candy floss to see her face, he continued to undress her.
Hichigo pulled her hands free from the fur muff that she had stuffed them into so they would protected from the frigid temperature. He held her cold hands between his larger, warmer hands to impart his warmth to her. Although he was ice-cold on the inside, heat radiated from his body as if he were suffering from a constant a fever. Bringing her fingers closer to his face, he noticed that the skin under the short, chipped fingernails had turned a ghastly purple color. Opening his mouth, he breathed several puffs of hot air across her frozen fingers until the blood flowed back into the tips to give them a normal pink coloration. It was time to take off the rest of her clothes that were now soaked from the snow that had melted. A lecherous smile tilted his lips as he reached to push open the cloak that enveloped her body. His fingers glided down her chest, taking a detour to momentarily grope her firm breasts under the red sweater she was wearing. He supposed he did suffer from a perpetual fever of sorts: a burning desire that drove him to take what was not his, to torture and to kill, and to enjoy every second of it. He gently rolled her body toward him to remove the cloak completely. Tossing it carelessly to the side, he discharged a sigh of exasperation. Although she had dressed appropriately for the weather using many layers, it would be a pain in the ass to disrobe her. Oh, well, he would equate undressing her to unwrapping a present to make a game of it. His slim black nailed white fingers deftly snatched the thick crimson colored sweater over her head to see that more shirts would need to be removed. Once he had taken off everything down to her matronly white bra, he allowed his fingertips to slide over her smooth, silky skin to the button of her jeans. He peeled the jeans from her body, dragging the cream-colored thermal underwear with them. Each article of clothing was disposed of without a second thought as he flung them over his shoulder to land where it may on the floor. Sweat had formed on his forehead in fat round drops and was sliding down his back to soak his clothes. Once he had pared down her clothing to her bra and panties, he decided it was time to take his clothes off as well before he fainted from being overheated. His physical efforts to remove her clothes in addition to the blazing fire had heated him up more than he thought it would. He had only been concerned about warming up the cold, helpless little lamb lying on the floor. Removing everything except the thin, white cotton dressing gown, he slipped his arms out of the sleeves to roll it down to his waist.
Hichigo paused a moment to observe her body. Her white skin had warmed to a nice pleasant peach color. She was petite and curvy with an inviting roundness to her hips and thighs. His tongue licked over his lips as his fingers moved over her thighs on an upward exploration of her body. Her belly was slightly plump but firm to the touch. His hands once again groped the globes of her breasts that were just the right size for his palms to cup each one. When his fingers reached her chin, they brushed aside her overly long bangs that obscured her face from his view. He surprised himself when he inhaled sharply upon being startled by what he saw. An uncomfortable mixture of disgust and shock made his stomach quiver. Is that what people felt when they saw him for the first time? With his bizarre pale face and even more weird black and gold eyes, it was impossible for them not to have such an adverse reaction. He now understood how they felt; what it was like to have inability to control oneself upon seeing something truly shocking. Swallowing convulsively, not sure how to process this new emotion, he pushed the lengthy lock of white hair behind her ear so he could study her face thoroughly.
A wide scar bisected the right half of her face from her forehead to her chin. Small veins of shiny, pinkish silver scar tissue split from the main scar at random intervals to streak across her face to her hairline or toward her nose. One particularly extensive streak zigged to her top lip where the scar continued across both of her lips before zagging back toward her jaw where it ended. Poor thing. It appeared her encounter with him would not be her first meeting with a monster. His thumb and forefinger grasped her chin to turn her face so he could see the left side. There was a star-shaped scar in the middle of her cheek marring the otherwise unblemished skin. His fingers traced the starburst pattern encircling the round quarter sized disfigurement. He determined that something cylindrical had punctured her cheek. Unable and unwilling to stifle the urge to kiss the mark, he leaned forward to press his lips against the shockingly baby soft skin. It amazed him how the tissue of scars appeared to be so extremely delicate, possessing a grotesque beauty, with an extraordinarily glossy sheen and satiny texture. In reality, the repaired skin was far tougher and thicker than the tissue it had replaced.
"What happened to you?" Hichigo pondered aloud, stroking her face like a lover. A grin bearing the semblance of tenderness broke across his face when she whimpered and writhed from the slightly ticklish touch. He would be her lover - and a lot more. Perhaps even some things she did not want him to be. Lowering his lips close to hers, he allowed them to hover there until he could feel an almost magnetic pull beckoning him to kiss her. He pressed his lips to hers, keeping them still. To his great surprise, her lips moved under them before her hands pressed to his bare chest.
What is happening to me?, Mina wondered. Her head was too clouded for her to able to determine if she was dreaming. She moaned and squirmed, feeling the heaviness on her chest increase. It felt as if someone were lying on top of her. A gentle and enticing pressure moved across her lips. Her hands pushed harder against the rigid, immovable object that was lying on top of her. She could barely breathe. But she was warm. The cold that had settled into her body and had made her limbs numb was gone. She did remember wandering around in the snow, freezing and hopelessly lost in the dark forest. Why had she gone into the forest to begin with? That she could not remember. Finally, her lips were free so she opened her mouth to suck in a much needed breath of air.
Hichigo smiled down at her with dark glee as she panted for air beneath him. His fingertips stroked her star scarred cheek in hopes she would open her eyes. Not only did he want to see their color, he could not wait to see that initial infilling of terror and confusion that always came when people saw him for the first time.
Mina attempted to brush away the fluttering object that was caressing her cheek. She found it annoying. She only wanted to go back to sleep, to once again be falling into that bottomless abyss of unconsciousness to precariously float between life and death.
"Hmmmm," he murmured, sitting up from her body. He had never had such a reluctant victim before. This made him feel quite upset and excited all at once. Deciding to employ a different tactic to wake her up, he stood up to leave the room. Glancing down at her before walking away, he saw that she had begun to shiver. Picking up his discarded wool kimono, he lay the garment over her body. With a grateful sigh, she rolled on to her side while pulling the robe tighter around her body as if it were a blanket. He was beginning to think he had come across a very unique and special find with her. Somehow he knew she would be like nothing he had experienced before. Wearing a self-satisfied smirk on his face, he went upstairs to the master bedroom, his master's bedroom, to the bathroom. Turning on nothing but the hot water, he planned to fill the massive, old-fashioned claw foot bathtub with water for a pleasant bath that would also serve as a friendly wake up call to the sleepy woman. The tub was big enough for the two of them. Now, there was an enthralling idea. An intimate bath for two. I've never done that before, he thought to himself, dragging his fingers through the steaming water. He also thought it would be a good idea to build a fire in the fireplace of the master bedroom. Then he would not have to be in a hurry to dress the woman after their stimulating bath together. Once the preparations for the bath were made, he returned downstairs for the woman.
While her gracious host had been gone, Mina had awakened to find herself lying in front of a fire, half-naked on an expensive rug wrapped in a lavish winter kimono. Sitting up, she yawned and stretched as if waking up from a nap at a friend's house. She had no idea where she could be. Honestly, she did not care. Her body felt sore and achy all over. Massaging her fingers and toes to stimulate blood flow, she chastised herself for being out in the cold too long. As if it had been her choice. She had finally found an escape route, and she had taken it. Beggar's couldn't be choosers, especially in matters of life and death. She was not sure what she was running from but she knew it had to bad for her to chance going out in a snowstorm. Glancing around her, she contemplated where she could possibly be. It seemed safe. Whoever had found her had taken great care to warm her up so she would not die from hypothermia. A flash of memory hit her brain like a bolt of lightning. It was a quick, almost indiscernible split second image that popped up in her mind so vividly it was as if she was seeing it in front of her face. She gasped and covered her tightly closed eyes with her hands as if that would keep her from seeing the picture again should it decide to return. There had been a knife, the blade long and shiny, razor-sharp and deadly, held in her hand. The weak light of dawn had glinted menacingly off of the hard edge before she brought the blade down with all of her might. Into what? Or who? Whatever had happened, it could not have been good. She opened her eyes slowly to look at her hands. There was no blood on them, but she had surely expected it to be there. An agonizing pain slammed into her skull as if she had been hit in the head with a blunt object. She pressed her fists to her temples, gritting her teeth together to ride out the horrid torrent of pain. Once the torment abated, she sat in the middle of the floor, shaking and sweating. She heard a low whimpering sound like a frightened puppy. The disconcerting revelation came to her that it was her making the pathetic noise. Pulling the kimono around her mostly naked body, she struggled to stand. Her legs were unsteady and threatened to buckle so she launched herself in the direction of the chair in case she should fall. She fell into the wing-back chair covered in wine colored velvet, sinking into the fluffy cushion as if it were a cloud. Had she stumbled upon Dracula's winter home in this forest? She snorted in her attempt to stifle her inappropriate laughter. Glancing around at the floor to ceiling bookshelves lining every wall, she watched the shadows that danced and swayed across the spines of the thousands of books. Her own spine stiffened when the door opened behind her. Actually, she had felt the cool rush of air caused by it opening rather than hearing a sound. She found it odd and strangely comical that there had been no loud, creepy squeak. No man bearing sharp fangs and wearing a cape swept inside the room either. She was almost disappointed. Her overactive imagination had a way of amusing her at the most ridiculous times. Of course, she had always handled fear differently than other people. At the moment, she was not frightened or the least bit anxious, just curious and wildly entertained. The unknown had never given her reason to fear. In her life, the angels she had known were far more terrifying to her than any devil she didn't.
Hichigo had felt every muscle in his body grow tense when he saw the empty space on the floor. His stomach had clenched with such intensity it made him feel nauseous. Rushing forward, he caught a glimpse of her out of the corner of his eye. She was placidly sitting in the chair as if she were an invited guest. He turned to look at her, amazed to see that she was staring at him blatant curiosity. No disdain or fear; just wide-eyed fascination. Did she think it was Halloween and this was a haunted house? Her left eye was focused intently on him. It was a striking gold color that matched the color of his irises. Kneeling in front of the chair, he extended his hand forward slowly. When she did not move or turn away from him, he used his fingertips to push aside the lengthy hair that obscured her eyes. Her right eye was milky and black, like a black pearl had been set in socket to replace her eye. There was no white sclera visible at all. He concluded she must be blind in that eye. Whatever had scarred her had taken her sight as well.
"What?" she asked, her cheeks flooding with a deep shade of crimson. Her cheeks would have matched her sweater if she had been wearing it. She had grown uncomfortable under his direct scrutiny. Lowering her eyes, she stared at her fingers at that were twisting together nervously in her lap. Leaning away from him, she pulled her hair out of fingers so it would drop back down to cover her dead eye.
"Are you afraid of me?" Hichigo inquired, already sure her answer would be no.
Mina hesitantly rolled her visible eye upward to meet his. His voice had been a freakish, gurgling sound as if he were gargling while speaking. She took the time to fully examine his appearance which could be described as a bit unusual skirting the edges of macabre. But then, who was she to judge someone's appearance so harshly when she resembled Frankenstein's monster. His hair was white like hers. That was not so strange. The fact his skin was the same pure white color as his hair was, however, extremely abnormal. His eyes were remarkable and ghastly at once with their midnight black sclera and glowing golden irises. Attraction and revulsion swirled inside of her in a bewildering mix that made her stomach cramp and her chest tighten. She did not know whether she wanted to continue staring at him in his strange awful beauty or recoil in dread.
"I'm not afraid of you," she answered finally after finding her voice. She held her breath as he leaned close to her, his lips nearing hers.
"Do I disgust you?" He backed away so he could hold her gaze to determine her true emotions.
"No." Her golden eye did not waver as she stared at him.
"Do you want to run away?"
"No." She decided it was her turn to ask a question. Inclining herself toward him ever so slightly, she lay her fingers against the flawless snow-white skin on his chest over his heart. She felt his heart begin to beat faster beneath her fingertips. "Are you afraid of me? Aren't I hideous to you?"
Hichigo smiled. "What is your name?" he questioned her, tracing her jawline. He noticed his fingers were shaking and immediately jerked his hand away. What was happening to him?
"Mina," she answered, lowering her eyes again. She turned her head because she could no longer bear to look at him. The conflicting emotions inside of her were just too much for her to grasp at this time. Weariness swept over her, and her head ached. She did not want to feel like anything except a nice, comfortable numbness all over along the ability to observe the world passing by her as if she were looking through someone else's eyes. "What is your name?"
"Hichigo. You can call me master," he informed her as his smile transformed into an arrogant smirk.
"I will not," she responded emphatically, turning her eye that blazed with anger on him.
Perhaps he had pushed it a bit far on that one. He would be her master, and Ichigo's, soon enough so it would not be necessary to declare it in such a vain manner. Standing up straight, he grabbed a fist full of his kimono that she was bundled in to jerk her out of the chair to her feet.
Mina instantly untangled herself from the material, leaving him standing there clutching nothing but the robe. She was quickly reminded that she wearing practically nothing as his eyes traveled the length of her body from her head to her toes and back up again. "I can move just fine by myself. Where would you like for me to go?"
"Hmph," Hichigo snorted, his lips twisting into a soundless snarl. Helpless little lamb? Obviously not. "Follow me. I ran a bath for you."
Mina obediently followed the man. Not because he had ordered her to do so but because a bath sounded heavenly. She was not sure how long she had been wandering around in the forest or for that matter the last time she had bathed. She could not remember much of anything about the last few days. Her eyes fixed themselves on his bare back, watching the defined muscles move fluidly under his excessively pale skin with each graceful step he took. She willingly followed him through the bedroom that contained a huge bed and nothing more. A fire emitted an inviting glow while imparting a comfortable warmth throughout the room. Next came the bathroom where a hundred or more candles illuminated the interior. She could see the steam rising from the water in the elegant antique tub. Without caring a single bit that the man was still in the room with her, she reached behind her to unhook her bra. Pushing down her panties, she kicked them off hurriedly. Without taking the time to be ladylike or refined, she flipped over the edge of the tub sending a wave of water over on to the flat and shiny stone floor. She immersed herself fully in the water, sinking beneath the surface to allow it to cover her entirely. It was peaceful under the water. She floated slightly and seemed temporarily disconnected from reality itself. Unfortunately, reality had a way of crashing in on her in the most irritating ways. She felt a pair of arms thrust themselves beneath her, lifting her above the water. Falling forward, she found herself lying on the man's chest. He had taken it upon himself to be her bathing companion. She glared at him, delving deeply into his amazing eyes that seemed to have a luminescence of their own.
"Aren't you afraid? Don't I terrify you?" he asked her again, pushing his fingers through her short hair that was plastered to her head.
"No," she answered somewhat truthfully. "No more than I frighten you."
"You don't frighten me," he chuckled, tracing the scar down the right side of her face. "You fascinate me."
"Oh?"
"Yes."
Mina's eyes moved down the haughty angle of his thin nose. Beneath that nose were a pair of lips that were colorless but perfectly formed, just right for a kiss. Her eyes studied each glimmering droplet of water of that had adhered to his lower lip that was full and slightly pouty. Easing forward, she slid her tongue between her lips to lick off each one of those small droplets of water. A sound that was as arousing as it was fear inducing rumbled from his throat. She caught his lower lip between hers, sucking lightly. Her body shuddered from the peculiar thrill that surged deep inside of her when he made that bizarre gurgling groan again.
Hichigo pressed his hand to her cheek, bringing her lips against his for a kiss. His lips parted and hers followed giving him entrance to her mouth. He moaned with appreciation as his tongue slid across hers and her body mimicked the undulating movement on top of him. Her nipples grazed his chest and her belly slid across his very stimulated manhood. He had been prepared to take her by force. As a matter of fact he preferred it. Until this happened. Never before had a woman responded to him in such a way. Not only was she willing to accept him, she seemed to want him with an unexpected ferocity no woman had ever exhibited.
Mina complied with silence as his slender, powerful fingers bit into the flesh of her shoulders to turn her away from him. She curled her knees under her, preparing to exit the tub. When his large hand flattened on the top of her head to keep her seated, she sighed noisily with agitation wondering what he was going to do to her next. A sweet, flowery scent filled the air. Turning her neck so she could look over her shoulder, she could see he was pouring a clear viscous liquid from a pretty pink glass bottle into his hand. The soap smelled like cherry blossoms. Who would have guessed a man like him would have such luxurious feminine items. Certainly not her, but seeing was believing. She closed her eyes and hummed with delight when his fingers buried themselves into her hair, massaging her scalp. Under normal circumstances, being bathed like a child would have infuriated her. These were anything but normal circumstances. She had no idea what this man planned to do with her, but she felt no fear from her uncertain future that could possibly be brief and grim. His nimble fingers moved over her body, cleansing her, tending to her as if he were preparing her for something. When his soapy hands glided over her breasts, cupping them and squeezing them to rub the bubbles around, she leaned back against his chest. Her body and mind was weakening, her senses wanting to slip away into nothingness. Melting into the man holding her, her body limp and pliable in his arms, she found herself totally at his will. For the first time, she experienced the crawling sensation of fear begin to wind its way through her body.
"Relax. I'll take my time," Hichigo cooed into her ear. "There is no rush here."
"Rush for what?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Something about the unnatural liquid quality of his voice soothed her at this moment. She wanted him to speak to her again.
"Anything. Time has no meaning. Only desire," he said, fondling her breasts again. "Passion. Want. Need." One of his hands slid down her belly causing a swell of heat to rise within her before surging downward in the same direction of his hand. "Hunger to be sated." His fingers pushed between the lips that led to the most intimate part of her. "We can take what we want from each other, only giving what we see fit in return."
"What kinds of things do you want? What do you want to take from me?" she inquired, gasping when his slim fingers slid into her body. "Everything?" A fuzziness invaded her head, making it difficult to think. She felt as if she were going to faint. His fingers grazed the super sensitive little projection making her arch her back to press herself into his hand.
"I want to take everything from you. There is one thing in particular I desire the most." He rubbed harder while thrusting his fingers deeper inside of her until she was trembling and squirming in his arms.
"Wh-what c-could that be?" she stammered, her hands gripping his thighs that were enclosing her waist. She felt his free arm encircling her throat while he continued to push her closer to an inevitable orgasm with his hand between her legs. He gradually tightened his arm around her neck, inhibiting her ability to breathe. She gasped for air, moving her body more to free herself to get the air her lungs required than in response to the oncoming orgasm. The muscle of his forearm flexed to close off her airway entirely as she quaked and twitched from complete ecstasy as he pushed her beyond her limit. Just as she was losing her grip on consciousness, he whispered two last words to her to answer her question.
"Your life."