"Whoever called it necking was a poor judge of anatomy."

Groucho Marx

A/N: Okay, last warning, this is the (God, I can't believe I'm about to use this term) the lemon (Or at least it's one of them). Pretty much standard romance novel stuff. (Why, because I'm a girl and even I like a good romance now and again). It's rated M for a reason, if you get squeamish about this kinda thing, I suggest you skip this chapter. Please and Thank you!

Sango sank into the warmth of the tub and sighed in pleasure as the hot water lapped at her strained muscles. She looked around the wooden enclosure and realized that Sora's inn must be very prosperous to have private baths.

The building was unlike any she'd seen before. The bathhouse was austere, separated into two rooms by a wall of hardwood and dominated by the swallow tub modeled after a natural hot spring.

High on the walls, where the ceiling joints fused with the top, there were a series of evenly spaced slits cut into the wood to allow natural light to filter in. Just beyond, she could see a thin column of smoke as it rose from the boilers and the sauna.

The smell of wood smoke and lavender scented bath oil combined, lulling her senses. The soothing smells and the heavenly feel of the water against her bruised and batter skin had her fighting to keep her eyelids open.

She must have dozed off for a few minutes because when she became aware of her surroundings once again she caught the blushing gaze of the ten year old who was bringing in drying cloths and her kimono.

"I apologize Lady; I did not wish to wake you."

Sango sunk down deeper into the tub and covered her breasts with her arms.

"You are Kenji, Sora's grandson?"

He flushed, swallowed, and looked away.

"Yes Lady."

Sango frowned; something was tickling her memory….something about this boy and Miroku.

"Kenji tell me. How did the houshi and I end up at your grandmother's inn?"

The boy flushed again and shuffled his feet. He wouldn't meet her gaze.

"Forgive me taijiya, but I was frightened when the houshi started sucking everything into his hand. I thought it was black magic and ran back to tell my grandmother. She sent some of the villagers to bring you both back. I'm s-sorry I ran away."

Her world shifted and she blinked stupidly.

Sango couldn't speak, couldn't move. She could only stare at the boy as if he were a spirit sent from the underworld to whisper hideous truths into her ear. He couldn't…he wouldn't. She took a deep breath, collected herself, and murmured.

"It's all right. I can understand w-why you were frightened. Miroku's wind tunnel is always frightening the first time anyone sees it."

He flushed again and looked away.

"I'll let you finish your bath," he mumbled and left. Sango didn't hear him.

She was too busy trying to make sense of her crumbling universe.

Miroku had awoken not long after Sango had left and had taken his own bath. When he returned to the room he was surprised to find her there, waiting for him. He paused. He couldn't identify the look in her cinnamon eyes. Wary, he entered and maintained a few feet of distance between them.

"Sango?" He questioned. She said nothing. Instead he watched her as she closed the distance between them and take his right wrist in her hand. He instinctively flinched away from her, but she tightened her hold and forced him to display his hand, palm up.

Miroku met her gaze and swallowed. Kami, he thought, she can't know. She can't.

"Tell me monk. What would happen if I were to rest my palm against yours? Would I feel smooth, unblemished skin?"

He felt beads of sweat well and slide down the back of his neck, but he would be damned if he would let her know how nervous he suddenly was. He forced a lecherous smile.

"My dear Sango, you are welcome to rub any part of your luscious body against mine."

She scowled and tightened her grip on his wrist. He fought not to wince.

"Miroku, if I run my hand over yours will I feel skin or prayer beads?"

His mask descended and he regarded her with unfathomable eyes. She felt tears sting hers.

Minutes passed and neither moved. Unable to stand it any longer she cursed and said.

"Dammit monk, tell me!" He didn't miss the break in her voice.

Miroku looked away unable to meet her accusing glare. Something broke in his soul and the glamour that rendered his still cursed hand invisible shimmered and faded. Sango looked down and tears spilled down her cheeks.

"Sango," he whispered. She shook her head, her body trembling.

Minutes passed and she refused to speak and Miroku felt the damning silence condemn him.

"W-Why Miroku? W-Why d-didn't you tell me? Tell us?"

He swallowed passed his suddenly dry throat.

"You know why, taijiya."

She closed her eyes and shook her head, denial clenching her heart.

"How could you keep something like this from me? You should have known that I…"

He narrowed his indigo gaze and cut her off, anger coloring his words.

"You would have done something foolish and come with me. I could not allow such a thing then and I will not allow it now. This changes nothing."

Sango felt her own anger spike.

"You do not get to dictate to me what I can or cannot do, monk!"

Miroku wrenched out of her grasp and grabbed her shoulders.

"Yes dammit, I do. In this I do. I would not endanger your life then and I will not do so now. When this is over I will leave, because it is the only way I know to keep you safe. It's the only way to keep you alive. The wind tunnel will not take you Sango. I have sworn it on my life."

She stared at him, shock, anger, pain swirling in her cinnamon depths. She'd known, as soon as she realized the wind tunnel had not closed, she'd known he'd left to protect her, and she knew he'd do it again.

Her heart broke all over again, but this time she wasn't sure she'd be able to glue the pieces back together. Sango looked into Miroku's soul deep eyes and promptly felt herself fall. She felt like she was on the edge of a yawning precipice, trapped between her demons and a fatal drop.

She stepped off the cliff.

Miroku's body stiffened when he felt her lips move against his and when she grasped his robes and forced her tongue passed his lips he groaned. His arms immediately locked around her waist and pulled her against his body. He made a low, incomprehensible sound as he took control of the kiss, his tongue sweeping along hers as he sucked lightly on her lower lip.

She gasped and broke away only to dive back in for another kiss. He groaned again and his hands stroked the small of her back while his tongue massaged hers gently. She moaned and her hand dropped to the tie the held his robes in place. She started tugging and Miroku immediately stepped back and captured her wrists.

She growled, frustrated, and tried to free herself, but he simply held her tighter.

"What is this Sango?" She blushed and looked away.

"What do you think it is Miroku…I w-want to…I w-want us to…Kami." She gathered her courage and met his eyes. "Make love to me."

He vehemently shook his head. "Sango no, you don't want…" She scowled at and cut him off.

"Miroku, I do want. I want very much." He shook his head again.

"Taijiya please, it won't change anything…I can't…" She stepped forward and silenced him with a kiss. He moaned when her velvet tongue parted his lips and teased his before pulling away.

"For once in my life houshi, I don't care about the consequences. I've spent far too much time never allowing myself to take the things that I want. I don't care that you're…leaving again. I want you…I need to feel you inside me. Please Miroku."

He closed his eyes. Miroku had never considered himself a weak man, but he'd always been powerless when it came to his beautiful taijiya. She could reduce him to a simpering mass of jelly with a look, and he knew he was not strong enough to resist the lure of her luscious body, not when she was offering him the very thing he'd fantasized about since they'd first met.

He did, however, possess some scruples, and he did not want to take advantage of her. He opened his eyes.

"Sango," he whispered. "I don't want to hurt you."

She smirked and stepped into his body heat.

"Too late," she whispered and kissed him again. He grunted, powerless, and pulled her against him. She gasped and moaned as his skillful tongue devoured her.

Miroku's hands rested lightly on her hips and they started a slow trek upward, over her flat stomach, passed her ribcage. When he cupped her well formed breasts she keened, and when he slipped his hands inside her kimono and ran his thumbs over her hardened nipples she panted.

Miroku broke away from her to trail a line of kisses down her jaw and over the graceful column of her neck. He paused and pushed her kimono off her shoulders, revealing her naked breasts to his hot gaze.

"So beautiful," he murmured and Sango promptly lost all coherent thought when he sucked a distended tip into his mouth. Liquid heat shot into her groin and she felt moisture coat her thighs. She rubbed them together unconsciously to try and alleviate the pressure, but couldn't find any relief.

When Miroku sucked and flicked his tongue against her sensitive bud she gasped his name. He would have smirked in satisfaction if his mouth hadn't been full.

He pulled his lips away with a little pop and promptly moved to her other breast.

"Miroku," she whimpered and fisted her hands in his dark hair. Without loosing contact with her skin Miroku walked her back and tumbled with her onto the futon. He released her breast and she mewled in disappointment before sucking in a startled breath. Miroku had yanked her kimono down and off her, leaving her bare to his passion drugged eyes.

Self conscious she tried to cover herself, but he caught her wrists and trapped her gaze with his.

"No taijiya, never cover yourself. You are breathtaking." She flushed and tried to pull her wrists free.

"I-I'm not. I'm too strong…too scared. Not feminine at all." Miroku smirked and gently cupped her breasts.

"Believe me Sango, you are very feminine." He ran his thumbs around the rose tipped areoles and she instinctively arched against him. He captured her lips again, plunging his tongue inside, sweeping around her hot mouth, and pulled away.

"I have traveled the world and I have never found your equal. You are the most beautiful woman in the world to me and your scars," he bent to kiss one, "they are part of what makes you beautiful. Without them you would not be the woman you are. You would be…less…and that would be tragic. Você é bonita, e eu te amo."

Sango parted her lips to ask what that meant, but his tongue stifled her words and she promptly lost her train of thought. Miroku pulled away from her and trialed a line of feathery kisses down her chin, passed her throat, between the valley of her breast, over her abdomen, and lower.

She lifted her head to look at him when he stopped between her thighs. She frowned, confused and he grinned lavciously.

"Miroku what are you…Kami!" She screamed. Miroku had dipped his head between her thighs and ran his tongue over her engorged clit. When he did it again she gripped the mattress, panting. He wasted no time parting her soft folds and plunging his tongue deep inside her rapidly dampening sex. When he grasped her clit between his teeth and sucked, she arched off the futon.

"K-Kami…feels so…O-Oh gods. P-Please Miroku…it's too…"

He plunged two fingers into her, penetrating, and started humming around her bud. She cried out and when he starting pumping those skilful digits in and out of her she felt the rising heat build to a crescendo.

Sango closed her eyes tightly and bucked her hips, seeking…something. She had never felt anything like this and she knew she needed him to do something or else the pressure between her thighs would crush her. She mewled when his tongue flicked over the bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs again and his fingers started pumping faster.

When he took the flesh between his lips and sucked she screamed. Waves of release crashed over her and she saw white lights flash behind her eyes. He kept sucking her, prolonging her orgasm, before crawling up her body and capturing her in a kiss.

She moaned into his mouth when she tasted herself on his tongue. He pulled away and smirked.

"Liked that did you." She narrowed her eyes and blushed deep crimson. She didn't like the self satisfied smile twisting his lips, and she was a little embarrassed at how fast she had come apart under the ministrations of his tongue and fingers.

"It was all right."

He narrowed his eyes.

"Well maybe I should do it again. Practice makes perfect." Her eyes went wide when his head started to dip down and she caught him before he could start running his tongue down her body again.

"Houshi stop!" He complied and met her gaze languidly. She growled.

"Fine, you lecherous hentai, it was… (fantastic, explosive, wonderful her mind supplied)…good."

He cocked an eyebrow.

"Hmmm, only good? I'm sure I can do better than good." He dipped his head again and captured her nipple between his teeth, sucking. She moaned and arched against him.

"Oh Kami, fine. You made me feel like I died and was resurrected," she panted. He pulled away and smirked.

"Good," he said and would have kissed her again, but she pushed at him and tugged at his robes.

"You're overdressed," she whispered. He pulled away from her and helped her take off his robes. She got them as low as his hips before stopping. Her eyes widened at the sight before her and she unconsciously reached out and rubbed her hands over his chest.

At the touch of her slim fingers on his flesh he groaned. He'd been waiting for years for Sango to touch him in this manner and he felt his already hardened cock, throb.

When her small hands ran over his abdomen and pushed at his robes he obliged by shifting so she could push them down and off his hips. His erection sprung free and Sango paused and swallowed.

She'd seen a man's sex before. She was a demon slayer and most of her comrades had been male. She'd also lived in an all male household until her father's death. She'd even caught a glimpse a time or two of InuYasha and Miroku bathing, but she'd never seen one this close before.

She worried her lip. He was large and she wondered briefly how he was going to fit.

Fascinated, Sango touched him with the tip of her index finger and ran it lightly from base to engorged tip. Miroku hissed. Startled, she met his eyes.

"I'm sorry, did I hurt you?" He smiled and shook his head.

"No Sango…it didn't hurt." A slow smile turned her lips. Feeling bolder now she lightly wrapped her fingers around his shaft and stroked. His eyes rolled back into his head and he moaned.

"Sango," he murmured. The moisture between her thighs grew thicker. Slowly she stroked him again, starting a steady, languid rhythm. Miroku's hips jerked against her hand.

She watched him, enthralled.

"D-Does it feel g-good?" She asked, her voice tentative. Miroku grunted and nodded slowly.

"Kami yes, but you must stop." She blinked in surprise.

"Why?" Her hand squeezed a little tighter on the tip and he felt his sex contract. He hissed in pleasure and caught his breath.

"Because if you don't, this won't last much longer."

He captured her wrist, pulled her hand away, and kicked his robes off the edge of the futon. He pushed Sango back and laid his naked body over her, her breast rubbing luxuriously against his chest.

"Turn over on you stomach," he murmured. Nervous, she complied. He groaned.

He could now see the luscious curve of her ass and his hands twitched. Sensuously he gripped the tight globes and ran his hands back and forth over the curve. He smiled. It was like dying and going to heaven.

Sango's breath hitched and she arched against him when she felt his hands on her. She flushed red. She had always secretly loved the feel of his hand rubbing over her backside. It was one of the reasons she'd hit him so hard for doing it, but now having his hands on her didn't feel shameful, it felt glorious.

He squeezed the ripest part of one globe and she gasped. When she felt his mouth lavish a wet kiss against her skin she groaned.

"Miroku, I need…" He kissed her other cheek.

"What do you need, tiajiya?"

She moaned. "I need you inside…please." He needed no further encouragement. He rocked back on his knees and lifted her so her back was flush against his chest.

"Miroku?" She questioned. She didn't have to wait long for the answer. He wrapped one arm around her waist, holding her in position, and used his free hand to maneuver the tip of his sex to her wet passage. She gasped when she felt the tip run along her lips.

He held her tight and whispered.

"This is going to hurt for a moment." She nodded and gritted her teeth.

"Do it fast." He nodded and impaled her on his throbbing member with one hard thrust. Sango yelped and tears stung her cinnamon eyes.

Miroku held her against him, very still, and rained gently kisses over her bare shoulder and the pulse point at her neck. She shifted and rode out the pain. Blood trickled down her thighs but she barely notice, she was too busy reveling in the fact that Miroku was intimately joined with her.

Then he moved and her world tilted. Sango's moan mingled with his as he used his leverage to drive her down on him while he drove up and into her. The pain was fading now and in its place the delicious building pressure from before was filling her. She bit her lip.

Miroku knew that at this moment he could die right now and be deliriously happy. He glanced down and watched her ass rub against his abdomen while he slid in and out of her. She felt amazing, her inner walls gripping him so tightly he thought he would die.

He used his free had to caress her bobbing breasts and pinched the nipple between his thumb and forefinger. She mewled in delight.

"Sango," he panted moving in and out, in and out, moving faster, driving her higher. She mumbled something incoherent and he felt his mind short circuit. He knew he was close and he really wanted to make her come before he did.

His hand moved swiftly from her breast and probed the apex of her thighs until he found the engorged nub. He furiously rubbed her clit and Sango screamed.

"Oh gods! Miroku!"

Her head flew back, her back arched, and he felt her inner walls tighten over his member. Still pounding into her he thrust one last time and felt his sex tighten. He released himself deep inside her and they collapsed together on the futon.

Sango felt boneless and she was sure she would never be able to move again, not that she wanted to. Miroku was spooned against her back, his softening manhood still inside her, and she knew that she'd never felt more complete in her entire life than she did at this moment.

She almost whimpered when he pulled out of her, but soon found herself in his arms, her head resting on his rapidly rising and falling chest.

"Kami," he whispered and she giggled. She felt sticky and sweaty and utterly content.

Miroku tightened his hold on her and she snuggled against him. A comfortable silence descended.

"Miroku?" Sango asked. He glanced down at her and saw her watching him.

"Yes?"

She bit her lip, nervous. "Does it always feel…like that? Cause if so I can understand why you…you know."

She looked away and Miroku frowned. He grasped her chin and tilted her head up, forcing her gaze to his.

"Taijiya, I can honestly say that I have never experienced anything like what I have just experienced with you in all my days. You are simply beyond compare and if I could give you the lifetime that you deserve, I would do so in the space of a heartbeat."

Sango felt tears prick her eyes and she looked away. Miroku held her tighter and rubbed his hands up and down her spine. She shifted self-consciously when he ran them over her scar, but he simply glared at her sternly and continued to caress her.

Eventually she drifted off to sleep but Miroku could not find the same peace. He looked down at the woman he loved more than life and cursed the gods.

It wasn't fair. He didn't want to leave her. He glared at his hand and felt it twitch and pulled Sango closer.

Not yet, you fucking bastard. You don't get to take me yet, he thought.

He followed her a few moments later, into an uneasy slumber.