godsend
crave

:

At first, it was gentle. Then, the kiss slowly grew passionate.

It was different from the first kiss they shared. It had been chaste and simple, but this– Orihime felt like a ball of fire was consuming her. It clawed at her insides, melting away her inhibitions. Soon, without consciously realizing it, she was moving her lips with his with an intensity that shocked her.

A hand slid through her hair while an arm enfolded her waist, pulling her against his large, hot body. "Open your mouth," Ichigo growled against her damp lips. Dazed, she followed his whispered command and gasped when his tongue entered her mouth, brushing against the tip of her own.

Almost violently, she shuddered.

The strange feeling in her stomach grew stronger, coiling tighter as he deepened the kiss. Ichigo pressed her hard against the wall behind her, kissing her harder. His tongue skimmed over her bottom lip, slid inside to trace the rows of her teeth and her tongue. He caressed her face, her neck, and the sides of her breasts, and finally gripped her hips. Orihime curled her fingers into his shirt and held fast. He pulled back, his breath touching her wet lips, and she gasped for breath, trembling at the savage onslaught of sensations filling her at being so close to him like this.

A moan rushed from her lips when his lips latched onto her throat while his hands traveled to her back to locate the zipper of her dress. Ichigo found it with ease, dragging it down. The cloth parted, exposing the soft skin of her back which he caressed. Orihime sighed at the searing warmth of his large palms, spanning the small of her back.

Kissing her mouth again, Ichigo tugged on the dress and it fell around her feet. Orihime did not notice; only when he cupped her bare breast she took in that she was naked except for her underwear. With a gasp, she pushed at his chest and covered her breasts with her arms.

He raised an eyebrow at her.

Orihime swallowed, ducking her head, her hair cascading forward. "I… I'm—" Her skin flushed deeply at being exposed under his intense gaze. Ichigo watched her for a second before taking his shirt off completely. She blinked, her swollen lips parting in a gasp as she eyed the exposed flesh with curiosity.

She knew he looked good, lovely even, but out of his clothes… He looked better, someone out of this world. The sight of his bare chest, strong biceps and rippling abdominals muscles overrode her shyness of being nude, lacing it with fascination.

Ichigo took one of her hands in his and placed her palm on his chest. The heat caused Orihime's body to jolt in sharp awareness; he was so warm, steel-hard under rough silk. Wide-eyed with wonder, she moved her palm across his chest while her eyes roamed his body, looking as though she were examining a delicious cuisine. She had never seen something beautiful and hard at the same time. He was both alluring and frightening.

Very dangerous.

A hand cupped her cheek and lifted her face to make her look up at him, forcing her to stop her visual caress. Gently, Ichigo kissed her, licking her lips before biting and sucking her bottom lip. Orihime parted her lips, and his tongue slipped in. She felt him step closer to her until they were chest to chest, legs touching. She gasped when her nipples grazed his chest, causing them to harden with acute ache.

Large hands slid down her body and gripped her hips. With ease, Ichigo lifted her and held her close to his body. She curled her arms around his neck, a hand sinking in his hair. He ran his hands over the back of her thighs and pulled them around him.

At length, he carried her to the bed. Lying there, Orihime watched him unbutton his pants. Realizing where she was staring, she flushed and averted her gaze quickly, mortified at her boldness. His naked chest seemed to be a safest place to stare at. As she gazed at every ripple of his muscles as he moved, she began to feel an insane urge to bite him, to lick and sink her teeth into that thick, powerful muscle where his neck met his shoulder.

Her brow furrowed in worry; is that normal, to feel an urge to bite a person? Probably not.

A finger tracing a line on her thigh jerked her away from her thoughts. Wide brown eyes looked up to him. Ichigo was watching his hand. The fingers went up to her hip before skimming the line of the waistband of her thin panties. The tip of his finger stroked the middle of her pelvis, stopping at the top of her covered slit. Biting back a moan, Orihime turned redder with embarrassment; she knew that he can feel the wetness permeating the crotch of her panties. The finger moved downward, teasing the wet folds under the scrap of cloth, and then back up again, down, up, down, up, over and over until she became wetter and warmer that she almost wanted to beg. She bit her lower lip to suppress a plea that almost escaped her lips.

Oh, she will not beg, she will not– Oh please…

Inch by inch, he lowered her panties, heightening her embarrassment and curbed desire. As Ichigo pulled her panties down her thighs, he watched her intently, causing her to lower her lashes over her eyes shyly. Her heart was hammering against her ribs, so loud Orihime was certain he can hear it.

Finally, her panties slipped free from her toes, and she now lay nude before him. Embarrassed, Orihime crossed one arm over her chest and tried to sit up, but Ichigo leaned forward, catching her lips in a fierce kiss. Her eyes widened before they drifted shut, responding to the kiss. A hand slipped between her thighs, long fingers stroking her moist slit. Heat coiled in her lower belly, causing her hips to squirm. She moaned against his lips, her thighs falling open, and a finger slowly slipped inside her.

A lance of pure lust pierced through her, straight to the part he was stroking. Every coherent thought she had had dissolved into moans and writhing. Panting, she clutched at his shoulders, squirming under his ministrations, her hips lifting and falling like a piston.

As his finger probed further, Orihime sucked on his tongue lightly. All too suddenly, he broke the kiss, much to her protest. He blew out a breath, his face tense. Placing a hand on her ribs, Ichigo bent his head, mouth closing over one stiff nipple. He swirled his tongue around the rosy bud before drawing it into his mouth and sucking. Gasping, Orihime threaded her fingers through his hair, pulling him closer. His teeth grazed her nipple, sending a jolt of pleasure through her. She felt like she was about to fly apart, her body hot and tight. Another finger was added inside her, his thumb massaging the tiny button at the apex of her feminine folds. Biting back a moan, she squeezed her eyes shut and moved her hips in time with his thrusts.

Ichigo drew away from her breast and returned to her lips, ravishing them. Adjusting his position over her, he withdrew his fingers and watched the rise and fall of her chest, the wide-eyed innocence of her gaze. Blushing fiercely, Orihime tried to hold his gaze, but the look in his eyes made her lower her lashes; if he continued to look at her like that, she did not know how long she'd be able to keep her guard up, how long she'd be able to remember why she was here, what she had to do.

Warm lips caressed her cheek, moving down until they reached her mouth. Closing her eyes, she relaxed into the kiss, wrapping her arms around him.

"…This might hurt… a little," he murmured against her swollen lips. She opened her mouth and he dipped his tongue inside, brushing the tip of her own.

Curling her fingers into his shoulder, she pulled in a breath and held it. The tip of his erection slid into her wet entrance. Orihime let out a moan, her back arching, thighs quivering. Ichigo panted above her, squeezing her hips. He brought one hand to his mouth, wetting his thumb, and rubbed it over her clit. She arched with a gasp, throwing back her head.

When he fully sheathed himself into her tight body, he kissed her deeply to drown the sound of her cry as he finally claimed her.

:

Orihime bowed off the bed, her cries muffled by his mouth.

They were still for a second before he started to move in and out of her, slowly at first before going faster. His strokes went deeper as he hung on to her hips tightly, groaning, an occasional swear word rolling from his mouth which sounded scandalously sexy, amplifying the desire, the pleasure. She gripped his back, muscles rippling under his moist skin. His hot, wet breath puffed wildly against her damp neck as his thrusts became harder, her moans and cries louder and keener. Sweat dripped from his wildly contracting abdominals to her soft belly, his hips flexing between her damp legs.

She was not naïve on what went on between a man and a woman, but she had not expected that it would feel like this…

A moan rushed from between her lips, her lashes fluttering, a new flush blooming in her cheeks as he thrust deeply into her. Orihime dragged her hand down his back, nails scoring his flesh. A hand reached up to her hair and stayed there, digging into the thickness of her damp mane as he kissed her neck, leaving a bruise, before tracing the curve of her chin with his lips, peppering her skin with light kisses before surging deeply into her and increasing his pace.

Feeling as though she was drowning, Orihime grabbed a chunk of bright orange-red spikes and moaned, panting his name out. Ichigo looked at her flushed face, thrust hard, and her response was to pull at his hair.

Suddenly, his eyes hardened, and he hissed. "Fuck." With a growl, he kissed her forcefully.

She clung to him, her body going wild, wilder; his thrusts going fast, faster, until a powerful spasm took over her body. Pulling her lips away from his hungry kisses, she cried out, feeling her body twist, her inner muscles contracting wildly. Orihime shook, eyes shut, feeling her world turn white and upside-down. It felt as if someone had yanked the ground below her.

Digging her nails into his skin, she held on as Ichigo continued to pound into her. Orihime let him have his fill, spreading her legs wider, trapped in a vortex of something raw and powerful – trapped and at the same time, safe. He groaned, cupping her bottom, lifting her off the bed, and thrust rapidly and deeply as far as he can go, before stilling and groaning again, his fierce orgasm matching hers.

Catching her breath, Orihime tried to collect her scattered wits and reorder her thought process. She struggled to remember who she was, why she was here. At first, it was such a difficult process. With him still inside her, throbbing, hard, and hot, she had trouble trying to collect her thoughts and arrange them. Weaving them together like they were threads under her fingers, until they form something she hoped was cohesive. Then she drew a line between her heart and mind: do not cross.

Remember why you are here.

Staring up to the ceiling, licking her lips, Orihime steeled her resolve.

This was just an act, sex, consummation.

However, when he uttered her name, her resolve trembled like a building standing on water. Still, the rational part of her resisted.

Ichigo tried not to collapse on top of her and crush her under his weight, but his arms failed him. "Sorry," he whispered thickly in her ear.

"It's okay… I don't mind." She wrapped her arms around him, relishing his warmth and strength.

He lifted his head from her neck, and she knew that he was looking at her now. Orihime kept her gaze to the ceiling. Tenderly, he brushed her damp hair off her cheek and put his lips on hers. Despite herself, her lips curved in a small smile and she kissed him back. Unlike the previous kisses they shared, this kiss was slow and thorough, languid and intimate; his tongue mapped out the interior of her mouth, his lips caressing hers almost reverently.

They lingered like that for a long moment. Then Ichigo rolled to his back and pulled her against his chest. Orihime sighed deeply and pressed closely to his body, watching the play of lights from a lamp across the wall through half-lidded eyes, listening to the beat of his heart under her ear.

"I made a mess on you," he said after a long silence. Orihime nuzzled closer, humming in reply. He sat up, looked down at her, and ran a hand over her leg. She flushed at his touch and watched Ichigo swing his long legs off the bed.

"What are you–" Ignoring her mortified protests, he lifted her in his arms. "Y-You don't have to carry me! I'm heavy and—"

"You're not as heavy as I thought you'd be."

They reached the bathing area and Orihime's eyes widened; she had never seen such an extravagant bathroom. Everything was perfectly-polished marble; silver faucets, ceiling to floor mirrors, and right in the middle of the room was a rectangular bathtub, three times larger than a typical tub. Ichigo stepped into the filled tub, still carrying her. He lowered her carefully, and Orihime automatically lifted her arms to her chest while Ichigo sat behind her, his legs cradling hers as she sat between his legs.

"Relax." Ichigo told her when she stiffened when he touched her shoulders. "Are you in pain?"

"N-No…"

He grunted and continued to stroke her shoulders. Soon, Orihime began to feel at ease, the warm water and scent of bath oils soothing her, unconsciously leaning against her husband's chest. Breathing softly, she turned her head to the side. From the corner of her eye, she found him watching her beneath his lowered lashes. Her heart skipped a beat and hastily, she looked forward again, flushed. Her senses were fogged by multiple sensations as Ichigo traced the length of her neck with his index finger.

Orihime squeezed her eyes shut and exhaled deeply.

"Why are you so tense?"

She swallowed. His hands were now stroking her thighs. "I… I…"

"Are you uncomfortable?"

Dazed, she gazed at him over her shoulder. "N-No…" she answered quietly, lowering her lashes shyly.

Thirty five minutes later, they rose from the tub. Ichigo helped her step out of the tub and much to her embarrassment, dried her body with a large, white towel. He dismissed her stammering protests and continued to wipe her dry. Waving off her stuttered claims that she can walk on her own, he carried her back to the room. Orihime, blushing heavily, told him she can finish drying her body on her own but Ichigo simply shook his head and carried on with the task.

"What's wrong? You're blushing, you know." She peered up to him through her thick lashes, her body flushing under the weight of his stare. His hands caressed her slim neck then his long fingers ran through her wet hair, moving down to stroke her thin collarbones.

The towel fell around her feet.

Ichigo leaned down, titling her chin up, forcing her to look him straight in the eye. As though mesmerized, she watched him bend his head closer to press a gentle kiss to her mouth. Eventually, his arms enveloped her in a warm embrace, causing her to feel an urge to curl up in his chest, in his arms, to feel safe and protected. A very dangerous feeling, something she could not condone. She would have to keep those walls up.

He pulled her closer to his damp body, and there was a crack in those walls. Minute, but it was still a crack.

Warmth settled in her chest at the intimate closeness of their bodies – in fact, embracing like this felt more intimate than what had transpired earlier. There was something in the way they held each other and kissed that tugged at her heart – a nagging, insistent pang. Unable to stop herself, she caressed his wet hair and kissed him deeply. Her hands roamed over his pectorals, chest and abdominals, grazing his skin with her nails. She pressed her palms harder and slid them lower to his hips.

When he pushed her down to the bed, she let him, and in between his kisses and touches, thrusts and grinds, her moans and his groans, she forgot that this was just an act, sex, consummation.