godsend
rain
:
A careless breeze rustled the white curtains. Orihime watched their idle dance while still tangled in the sheets with Ichigo.
Under the sheets, their legs were entwined in such a way one could not tell where she began and where he ended, his thick arms around her waist, his face buried in her shoulder.
Every part of her body was scarred by his warmth, his hands, his lips, his tongue, his teeth, his scent. Inside and outside of her, he was everywhere. She felt as if she was devoured, naked of everything.
Outside, the sun rose higher. Faint gold glow seeped through the cracks in the drapes. His grip was not tight yet firm, and she was careful not to wake him when she untangled herself from him. The loss of his warmth evoked a feeling of almost-loss.
The sheets pooled around her waist as she sat up. Orihime swept a thick swathe of hair over her shoulder, her hair luminous against white skin.
Beside her, the morning light revealed a different version of Ichigo. Asleep and not frowning, he still looked serious yet calm, even innocent, untainted by fatigue and severity brought about by everyday responsibilities.
Captivated by this unfamiliar sight, she reached out a hand towards him. A delicious current zapped the tips of her fingers as she made contact with warm, bronze skin; it made her dizzy, made her body hum with want and need.
A feeling filled her then, spreading from her chest to her limbs, sinking into her bones, pulsing like a living thing. It drove her to come closer, to touch and taste him. The pace of her breath accelerated. Her tongue flicked out to wet her dry lips, a lock of auburn hair falling forward, touching his cheek as she leaned in, her whole being under a spell.
Their lips almost touched but something jerked her back. She was not sure what it was but it created an opening for the reality to break in, as sharp as a blade, as crushing as a tidal wave. For a moment, she felt lost, empty. Then a profound ache sprouted in her heart, taking root there, growing until her lungs felt full and swollen.
The deep breaths she took did not help soothe the throbbing. It now reached the point in which their proximity became physically painful. Orihime rose from the futon, nude. Around her, pieces of clothing were strewn here and there; her skirt, his jeans, her panties, his white long-sleeved shirt.
In her shyness, she hesitated. Biting her lip, she picked up his shirt and put it on. It fell to her thighs, the sleeves too long, his scent wrapping around her like a straitjacket.
Sleeves rolled up to her elbows, she trotted to the bathroom and put her hands under the running water. Above her, through a small, square window, diamond-patterned sunbeams entered the bathroom.
After drying her face, she pulled her long hair in a chignon, securing it with a hair tie, revealing her neck and the red marks on her collar, at the junction where her neck and shoulder meet, below her ear and tops of her breasts.
Curious as to what they were, Orihime raised a hand to inspect one of them. However, her examination was cut short when a tall figure appeared in the mirror.
Behind her, almost filling up the space with his size, Ichigo stood in the doorway, his bright head of hair rumpled from sleep.
He was naked from waist up. His jeans, unzipped and unbuttoned, hung low around his lean hips. Her body reacted to his presence, heat coiling within her. Face flushed, Orihime tore her wide-eyed gaze away from the front of his opened jeans, fighting the urge to squirm. She turned off the faucet, hand shaking, and wiped her hands dry with a towel.
Turning to face him, she offered him a timid smile.
"G-Good morning."
He responded with a languid perusal, his lidded gaze lingering on the deep v of the shirt where it fell open because the first four buttons were missing.
Her lower lip quivered slightly, eyes wide, too bright. "D-Did I wake you?"
Ichigo said nothing, now gazing at her face.
He approached her then, slowly, deliberately. The space between them soon vanished, and her mouth went dry. He dropped a hand on her hip. Orihime cast her eyes down, anxiety showing clearly on her face, especially now he can see her body in broad daylight.
Even though many had expressed their admiration for her, none of those praises had helped boost her self-confidence. Some felt and sounded insincere with looks of poorly-concealed derision directed at her hair, and many of them came from those who fixed their gazes below her chin.
He must have sensed her insecurity; he squeezed her hip gently before sliding his hand over the base of her spine, his fingers making soothing circles. Touched by his gesture, Orihime smiled, sighing as she leaned into his warmth. Ichigo tucked his hand beneath the shirt and pulled her closer so that her breasts were touching his chest. His other hand cupped her cheek, lifting her face to his.
His lips gently touched hers, the contact brief. Orihime put her arms around his shoulders and leaned up to press her lips harder to his. Her kiss was timid and light yet thorough, as if she were enjoying a rich dessert. Ichigo let her be in charge, if only for a few seconds before taking over.
Their lips parted, and he ran the tip of his tongue across her lower lip before drawing it into his mouth with his teeth. He held the back of her neck as he trailed kisses to her jaw, going lower to press a kiss to the spot where her pulse throbbed. This seemed to intrigue him, this vulnerability, the beat and rush of her heart and blood; he lingered on this spot, nipping and licking tenderly.
She held his head, fingers rubbing his scalp. Orihime felt faint with feeling too much. The depth of her feelings terrified her. She shoved it away, told herself not to read into it too much. Just simply feel and tuck these memories in the very bottom of her heart for safekeeping.
She'd need these memories someday.
He lifted his head from her neck, their gazes meeting. Caught in each others' gazes, trapped in this moment, this minute, this nanosecond, both were stock still. Both were unable to let go, consumed, on fire.
She wanted to ask, what are you thinking?
"What are you thinking?" he whispered.
Her heart was beating fast.
Ichigo placed a hand between her breasts, over her heart.
"Your heart is beating fast."
His lips curled in a small smile, a sort of smile that seemed to say that he knew her most cherished secret.
Orihime stroked her lip with her tongue. "I-It's b-because I'm…"
His mouth came down on hers roughly, catching her words in his mouth. The hand on her chest skimmed the length of her torso before cupping the wet heat between her legs. Orihime squirmed, her back curving. Ichigo caressed her teasingly in time with the playful brush of his tongue inside her mouth, stoking the fire already blazing uncontrollably within her. Gripping his biceps tightly, she pressed closer to his fingers but he lifted his hand away and enfolded her breast in his palm, squeezing the sensitive, puckered tip.
A violent, white-hot heat tore through her body. Whimpering, Orihime sank her little teeth into Ichigo's bottom lip.
Orihime felt Ichigo go utterly rigid, letting go of her mouth. She gazed up at him, flushed and panting. His eyes were narrowed, his jaw clenching as his expression grew dark.
For Ichigo's part, it had taken all of his self-restraint not to shove her on a nearest wall, lift her legs and possess her with all his strength, without inhibition. His shaky self-control was further challenged when her fingernails scored his chest, grazing his nipples, forcing a groan from his mouth.
Grasping her nape, he covered her mouth with his, still careful with her even though it was becoming a severe physical strain not to be inside her. He froze at the feel of her small hand on the waistband of his jeans. Before it could go lower, he captured her hand.
More morning light filtered through the small window. Shadows and lights traversed above them, their silent audience.
Small and quick hot puffs rushed from between her swollen, very red lips.
"Are you going to faint?" Her eyelids fluttered, soft brown eyes poking through the thick lashes. "I'll catch you."
His gaze dropped to her breasts, squished together against his chest. Gazing lower, he scowled at the front of his opened jeans, cursing his overheated body.
A small warm palm touching his chest startled Ichigo. He fixed her with a hard look, jaw clenched, hiding his true reaction under his scowl.
Her smile was of utmost innocence when she murmured, "Your heart is beating fast."
Blazing, amber eyes narrowed.
"Is it," he said in a low tone. Her smile deepened. His next action caused her to jerk in surprise when he took her mouth. Her hair was pulled loose and Ichigo ploughed his fingers through the thick locks, grasping at it, pulling to tilt her head back to kiss her harder, bruising her lips.
Fuck.
This needed to stop. These kisses, this closeness; he was hairbreadth away from splitting out of his skin and who the fuck knew what he'll do next to her.
Ichigo ran his fingers through her hair once more before releasing her. She gasped, wobbling backward, and gripped the edge of the sink behind her for support as she gasped for air. Jaw clenched, he pulled his jeans up to his hips and zipped it.
As he shifted his legs around to give room to his erection, Ichigo glanced up, eyes focusing on the red marks he had left on her skin. Frowning, he reached over. He looked her in the eye when she touched his wrist.
"Are we going to the beach today?" she asked quietly, blushing.
He nodded, his thumb rubbing the red mark on her neck. "After lunch," he said, still looking grim, but his touch remained gentle, brushing her jaw with his knuckles.
"You look worried."
His brow knitted, his thumb resting on her bottom lip. Her flush deepened, and she looked away. "Don't be. I-I'm fine."
Ichigo raised an eyebrow. "I-I mean, if-if you're thinking about…" Orihime bit her lip, very red, gazing downward. "I'll make us some breakfast," she mumbled, gathering her hair in one hand as she walked past him.
:
Around three in the afternoon, he took her to the beach, not the one they saw the other day. The part of the beach where he took her was underdeveloped. Scattered all over the place were large rocks that provided privacy. From here they could see the hazy outline of Mount Fuji in the distance, swathed in clouds, looking like a fantasy, like a dream.
Upon seeing the waves touching the shore, Orihime squealed, kicking off her shoes and ran towards the shore, arms stretched at her sides. She scurried over the water until half of her shins were submerged. Laughing, she raised her face to the sky, auburn hair billowing behind her, shifting from flaming orange-red to sunshine gold.
Looking over her shoulder, she saw Ichigo standing on the shore, hands inside the front pockets of his faded jeans. His hair was tossed by the wind, falling over the side of his face.
They later walked side by side, she in the water, Ichigo on the dry shore. The water barely touched his tennis shoes. In the space between them was the scent of seawater. Their hands brushed against each others' but neither made a move to imprison the other.
Orihime still felt shy but there was an open air about her that indicated that she now found it easier to speak to him freely. This was apparent when she told him to walk in the water.
"Go on," she urged, grinning. Ichigo declined with a small shake of his head and took her hand instead. Orihime looked down to hide her red face behind her long hair.
"I can teach you to swim if you like," Ichigo offered when she later confessed she did not know how to swim.
She scrunched her nose. "I'm a slow learner. I'll just frustrate you and make you mad."
Ichigo glanced up at the sky, and then looked at her again, staring at her hair. "I'll be patient with you." This made Orihime laugh. "And if I lost my patience," he went on, "I'll just vent out my frustration in such a way that will benefit both parties."
Baffled, she looked over to him. He was grinning at her crookedly. Realizing what he had implied when his grin grew wider, Orihime reddened. "I-Ichigo-kun!"
Ichigo tugged at her hand and grabbed her hip to hook her into his body. Orihime squeaked in surprise, her free hand landing on his chest.
"What's wrong?" His breath was warm and enticing in her ear, sending a delicious shiver down her spine. His arm slid around her waist. "I don't hit women and I don't want to yell at you. That is the only appropriate way to express my frustration with you."
Her initial reply was an unintelligent mishmash of words before finally blurting out, "Y-You really don't have to teach m-me."
"Damn. That's too bad."
Orihime blew out a relieved breath when his hands dropped away from her body. She closed her eyes, pressing her hands to her chest, waiting for her breathing to normalize. When she peeked at him, she found him frowning up to the sky, his bangs lifting and falling over his eyes.
"What's wrong?"
His frown deepened. "I think it'll rain."
She pouted. "Not today, I hope! I'm having so much fun!" With that, she scampered off, playing with the waves and looking at seashells and oddly shaped rocks she could find. Ichigo followed the trail of small footsteps she'd made. With a thin rock, she scribbled on the wet sand, laughing every time the waves came and washed away what she had doodled.
At length, she got tired and sat down on the dry sand, her skirt twisting around her thighs, revealing her knees.
She looked over to Ichigo. With a smile, she patted the area next to her.
"You summoned?" Ichigo said, arching an eyebrow when he settled next to her. She giggled and twisted her body toward him to show him the seashell she found.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" she murmured.
Ichigo looked at the shell briefly then gazed at her serene face. Feeling his eyes on her, she looked up to him through her thick lashes, pink lips parting. The look in his eyes stirred something in her, and before she could put distance between them, Ichigo was already on her.
The shell fell between her fingers just as Ichigo cradled the side of her face, a strong arm holding her closer to deepen the kiss. As though afraid she'll be taken away from him by the waves touching her bare feet, Orihime clung to him tightly.
The wind got stronger, sweeping over them, tousling Orihime's hair. Clutching her hip, Ichigo pulled her to his lap.
"Ichi… go…" Orihime whispered against his mouth, her fingers getting tangled in his hair, getting lost in the heated moment, forgetting where they were.
His hand wandered down her back and bottom, urging her to rub against him, her moan and his groan muffled by their hot clinging lips. The temperature between them sizzled, scorching, their movements turning more fevered, their kisses bordering on desperation.
Ichigo latched on her neck, sinking his teeth into her pale skin. Heat curled in her lower belly at the pleasure-pain. Orihime whimpered, pulling at his spikes, mouth falling open as she panted hotly in his ear. The hand on her rear slipped under her skirt and panties, pulling her closer to his erection. Head falling back, she rolled her hips forward, shuddering as she did.
Everything, everything was electric. On fire.
Ichigo grasped a fistful of auburn hair and leaned up to kiss her panting mouth, but something small and wet dropped to his arm, distracting him. He glanced up, eyes narrowed.
The sky had turned dark. Clouds had swollen up and turned grey, filling up the sky and swallowing up the afternoon sun. They were ready to drown the earth with their tears.
"Shit."
Ichigo got on his feet, an arm around Orihime's waist. "Get in the car." Orihime blinked dazedly, still catching her breath. She opened her mouth to ask, but a drizzle interrupted her. Fine rain had fallen. It steadily grew thicker until it became a heavy downpour with earsplitting rumbles of thunder. The transformation had taken place in barely a second.
"Go!" Ichigo's bellowed instruction snapped her out of her fascinated daze.
However, by the time they got into the backseat of the pickup, their clothes were already sodden with rain. As soon as Ichigo slammed the door shut, the rain became so thick it was impossible to see past the thick sheets of water.
Orihime brushed a wet lock of hair off of her cheek. Her blouse had turned transparent, revealing everything. She folded her arms in front of her chest and stared out of the window at the rain. Large droplets of water hit and erupted against the windows.
"Are you okay?" asked Ichigo.
Orihime turned to him with a smile. "I'm fine, thank you!"
Beads of rainwater clung to his skin, running down his jaw. "You're not. You're shaking." He put a hand on her shoulder.
"I'm all right, really!" It was, however, very uncomfortable to have her blouse sticking to her skin and revealing everything. Thankfully, Ichigo had turned his attention to the pouring rain, a scowl on his face.
Watching him closely, Orihime noticed his disgruntled temper right away. His jaw was clenched, his eyes narrowed and cold. In fact, he was looking at the rain as if it was the most repulsive thing he had ever seen. How odd it was that something as simple as the rain could affect his mood this strongly. Perhaps something happened on a rainy day that made him develop an aversion to such weather.
Cautiously, she put a hand on top of his. "What's wrong?"
Ichigo blinked, his eyes snapping down at her. Orihime smiled softly.
"Don't you like the rain?"
He looked as if he wanted to say something, but he seemed to change his mind and shrugged instead. "It's an inconvenience," he said matter-of-factly, looking out the window once again.
Orihime felt there was something more than a simple inconvenience, but she did not pry. The less they knew about each other, the better. Despite their physical intimacies, she was careful to remain as a stranger to him and to perceive him as such in turn. After all, this romance was not a romance that would lead to permanence. There were some selfish indulgences every now and then, but she remained conscious of this essential truth: Ichigo was her personal cherry blossom; beautiful and transient.
That's why when he later revealed a delicate secret, Orihime felt dizzy with guilt. There were layers and layers of secrecy and lies in her. Because of these, she did not deserve Ichigo's openness. She did not deserve to witness his vulnerability. There was a wall between them which cannot, should not, be breached. But walls could be torn down and turn into bridges.
"It was raining when my mother died."
Without hesitation, she slid her arms around him, her cheek against his. "I'm sorry, Ichigo. I'm so sorry," she whispered in his ear. He went rigid. At first, she thought he will pull away. Then she felt his hands on her waist, stationary, and then they moved until his arms encircled her.
For a long while, they held each other, the sound of rain surrounding them. In her heart, Orihime hoped to shield him from the memories in the rain, even for a short moment. Outside, thunder and lightning tore through the sky, the sky and earth connected by the rain.
Moments later, she pulled back but kept her arms around him. Their faces were inches away from each other, their noses touching. Still unsure, she brushed the wet hair off his forehead and kissed him there.
"Could you tell me about her?" she said softly.
He regarded her quietly for a moment before launching into a short tale about his mother, how kind she was to everyone and how devoted she was to her family; how, when he was ten years old, he thought of her as the center of his world, the one he wanted to protect the most. The most vivid thing he remembered about her was her smile.
Orihime closed her eyes as she listened. She could picture him, the adorable ten year old boy who thought of his mom as the center of his universe. How amazing could it have been to have such a woman as a mother?
"She'll like you."
Opening her eyes, she met his gaze. His expression was unreadable. His eyes seemed to spark with raw, unnamed emotion.
He ran his thumb along her cheek, keeping eye contact with her. "If she were alive, she'd tell you how unlucky you are. I'm grumpy, hot-tempered, impatient, rude…"
Without thought, Orihime leaned in to press her lips to his. She pulled away, only slightly, face flushed.
"…Kind, sincere, strong, and…" Her breath came out strangled, voice sounding pained. "I… I don't… I don't deserve you. I…" Tears filled her eyes, struck by an emotion she could not name.
Ichigo cradled her face with both of her hands, lowered his face to hers and kissed her full on the mouth. His lips against hers were urgent, fervent with need. From her face, his hands moved down to her neck, tilting her head back, down her wet shoulders and breasts. Orihime shuddered, moaning, heat curling in her lower belly. Gently he squeezed her breasts, his thumbs rubbing her taut nipples. His mouth left hers then, and eyes dark and half-lidded, he watched her face contort with pleasure as he pressed her breasts together, giving each breast a hard squeeze.
Violent shivers wracked her body at each squeeze, her mouth falling open as she gasped for air. She no longer felt chilly. Her skin was tingling, and the delicious, searing discomfort in her lower belly made her hot and wet between her thighs.
Still watching her face, Ichigo lifted her breast to his mouth and pinched the hard tip between his teeth through the sodden cloth. Orihime jerked, crying out, head falling back, nails digging into his shoulders.
With little maneuvering, they ended up in a wet tangled heap on the backseat, his hard body covering hers. Her legs parted, cradling his lower body between her thighs. Panting, Ichigo rolled hips, and then in circles. Orihime writhed, panting, and ground back just as hard, crying out as sparks of pleasure shot between her legs.
Between clenched teeth, his breath hot and heavy, Ichigo growled. "We have to stop."
Orihime opened her eyes. With one look from those smoldering honey-colored eyes, Ichigo was pressing back to her neglected lips, taking them in a hard kiss, her tongue in his mouth while her nails grazed his scalp.
Groaning, he reciprocated fervently, sinking his fingers in her wet red hair to lift her head so that her mouth was crushed against his. His free hand dipped under her rear and lifted her closer to his throbbing arousal. Her thighs tightened around him.
"If we continued," he hissed once he found his strength to stop kissing her, "I won't be able to stop and we're going to have to stay here for the night. I can't promise to be gentle and it'd be so rough and fucking uncomfortable, especially for you."
The rain had gotten heavier with louder claps of thunder by the time they had reached the house.
Orihime hurried to the bathroom, soaked and shaking. Unbuttoning her sopping blouse was tricky because of her trembling fingers, so after unfastening the first four buttons, she lifted the hem to pull it over her head. However, a thick lock of wet hair got caught in a button. Wincing, she tugged more forcefully but it did not get off.
The door slid open behind her. "Need help?" There was a hint of amusement in Ichigo's tone.
She giggled self-consciously. "Y-Yes, please."
Very tenderly, he helped her out of her shirt, carefully untangling her hair. He bunched the wet blouse in his hand and dropped it to the floor.
"You're shaking."
She tried to smile, hugging herself. A particularly loud thunder rumbled outside, starting her.
As if to soothe her, Ichigo rubbed her arms. He slowly reached behind her back to unhook her bra. Orihime sighed deeply, long lashes touching the swells of her cheeks as she closed her eyes. She lowered her arms and her bra fell to the floor. Opening her eyes, she reached for the hem of his shirt, tentative. Ichigo raised his arms and she tugged it upwards. His shirt soon joined hers on the floor, forgotten. He leaned in and kissed her, his hands skimming her wet sides, the undersides of her breasts, and the curve from her waist to her hips.
His fingers found the button that held her skirt together. Hers unbuttoned his jeans, timid at first, before growing bold, bold enough to pull the tab of his zipper. Ichigo, on the other hand, did not hesitate; he tore the button off and her skirt fell around her feet with a wet plop.
"Ichigo-kun, you need to stop ripping my buttons…" she chided softly.
Grinning lazily, Ichigo's fingertips slid along the waistline of her lacy purple panties. "Can't be helped. Besides, you really don't mind, do you?" She flushed deeply with a bit of a pout, and Ichigo put his hands on her ears and kissed her again.
Leisurely, they undressed each other, her lips on his collarbone, his fingers tracing each curve, dip and bone, their wet bodies shuddering, both in cold and desire.
When they were both completely nude, Ichigo slid his hands behind her thighs and lifted her, her legs wrapping around him. He could take her now, right here, standing against the sink or the wall or the door. But this was not going to be a quick, hard fuck. He will take her slowly, taste her slowly, and watch her come in his mouth, in his hands, around him.
Outside, the storm continued to rage. Rain pelted hard against the windows and walls. Rainwater dropped from overhanging gutters. Puddles grew in depth and width. The house was engulfed in the darkness, except for the hallway outside their room.
The door was open; lights from the hallway spilled through the opened door. Ichigo laid her down onto the futon and Orihime sighed with a shiver, burying her head on the pillows even though her hair was still wet. He covered her with his large body to warm her up.
Brushing her hair off her face, his lips traveled along her jaw and neck, kissing, licking and biting, tasting the rain on her skin, on her collarbone, then on each breast, each nipple, the softness of her stomach, bellybutton, and down to the center of her.
"Ichigo-kun…"
He raised his head from between her thighs when he felt her pull at his hair and saw her looking down at him, looking embarrassed but curious. His hands parted her thighs wider and she shyly obliged, face turning redder, eyes wide.
When he lowered his face, Orihime opened her mouth to tell him to stop but his tongue gave her a long, slow lick, and a small scream came out from her mouth instead. "Y-You sh-shouldn't…" she gasped, tugging at his hair, her bucking hips contradicting her plea. Ichigo kissed her deeper, ignoring her gasped protests.
"Y-You can't— oh!"
With one hand, she covered her flushed face, turning her face away, biting her lower lip hard to suppress her moans. But no matter how hard she tried to contain them, they still managed to slip free, expressing her enjoyment. Her slick body bowed off the futon, followed by another soft moan.
Ichigo slightly lifted himself to look at her face. Her eyelashes fluttered as she refocused her hazy gaze. He dropped his head between her thighs to taste her again, suckling on her sensitive flesh and Orihime felt dizzy, swept away, hot, scared. Scared, almost terrified, because she feared she was getting addicted to this, to him, to the idea of being together, the feeling of oneness, of completion.
His mouth focused on the swollen, sensitive knot of nerve endings while his fingers slid deeper until they found the spot that had her gasping frantically and writhing. He gripped her hip tighter, pinning her in place when she tried to move away. As though to reprimand her, he gently nipped her clit, before pulling it inside his mouth, sucking eagerly.
A feeling grabbed hold of her with fierceness, making her cry his name out and arch her back off the futon.
Fully intending to have his fill of her, he licked at her wetness with fervor, the rough side of his tongue sending shivers down her spine and toes before crawling up to her. Panting softly, Orihime wrapped her arms around his shoulders. With his mouth on hers, Ichigo settled between her legs, thrusting into her wet warmth.
Moaning, she hung onto his shoulders and pulled up her knees. Ichigo gripped the back of her thighs before sliding his hands down to her rear, cupping them. They pressed against each other tightly, clung to each other, crushing each other.
The world outside, the storm, the rain which connected the earth and the sky, had faded. They had created another world. Another time, another universe. Here, in this room, free of light, they spiraled out of control, messing up each others' ordered worlds.
:
Outside, the rain got heavier, louder.
Ichigo watched her catch her breath. Her eyes were bright, honey embers, lashes thick with tears. She closed her eyes and bit her lower lip hard, chest heaving, skin glistening with thick sweat, and then, her swollen lips parted as she moaned his name, her orgasm crashing over her like a big wave.
One of his hands caressed the back of her moist thigh. He gripped her hip then and thrust deeply, causing her body to writhe, her eyes flying open.
"One more time," he exhaled, face shining with sweat.
Pleasure and lust flashed across her face. Her body, still tingling from orgasm, clenched him with a vice-like grip. Growling, he increased his pace, his thrusts harder, deeper, getting frenzied, out of control.
He kissed her panting, whimpering mouth. "You're so fucking beautiful."
Her eyes glittered.
"I'm afraid," he growled, panting, "I might eat you alive."
"P-Please," she whispered, grabbing a fistful of his hair and slipping her tongue in his mouth to brazenly stroke it with his.
More deep, irregular thrusts, more hard kisses, and she was gasping his name again until she was keening, nails digging into his skin, making him groan. Her ankles were tangled with his sweaty calves, their sweat mixing together. Thick droplets of perspiration trickled down his sinewy back and hard thighs. Her small hands firmly stroked his tense back, from his shoulder blades, spine, sides of his trunk and down to his rear, lingering there, unaware how possessive her grip was.
His large hand cupped the side of her flushed face. Her eyes flickered open, dazzling him with their brightness. Ichigo brushed his lips against her cheek, kissed her ear, and pulled her closer to his body. The speed at which his hips moved turned unmanageable, his body relentlessly pounding her hard on the futon, matching the rhythm of the furious rain. Her moans rose in volume in every thrust, an answer to each groan he made.
Crying out his name, Orihime tossed her head back against the pillow, sobbing and convulsing in sheer ecstasy. Ichigo licked a spot on her neck, tasting her sweat and his. He pressed his nose against her skin; she now smelled like him. She had taken a part of him with her, a permanent kernel of him nestling inside her. And in turn, inside him was a part of her.
He cradled her closer, as though protecting this part of her in him, and came, groaning in her shoulder.
:
They were on their side, facing each other, the blankets barely covering the lower half of their bodies. The yellow light from the hallway created a rectangle of light across the floor.
"It's still raining," she murmured against his neck.
Ichigo opened his eyes. The rain, indeed, had not let up. If anything, it's gotten heavier. But there were no rumbles of thunder neither claps of lightning. It was a calm but heavy downpour.
"How can it rain like this when it was clear yesterday?" asked Orihime sleepily.
"That's how nature works. Unpredictable."
"I've wanted to explore the beach more. But in this weather, it's impossible…" Orihime nuzzled closer, sighing, an arm resting around the small of his back.
He ran a hand through her tangled hair. "We can stay for another night and see if the weather turned clear."
She looked up from his neck. "Is it really okay?"
"I don't mind adjusting my plans if that would you make you happy," he put in quietly.
Orihime smiled radiantly as she thanked him. Absently, Ichigo entwined his fingers with the tips of her hair. They were still damp from rain and from their previous activity.
"Unfortunately, I don't do things for free…"
She blinked slowly, the action half-innocent and half-sultry. "Eh?"
He smirked and closed his eyes.
"What do you mean?"
Ichigo opened his eyes. "What do I get in return?"
She furrowed her eyebrows curiously, an earnest expression on her face. "I don't get it…"
His smirk widened into a lazy grin, his fingers making small circles on her lower back. "Of course you don't."
"Ichigo-kun, what is it?" She insisted lightly.
"Forget it," he drawled.
"I won't," she said with a bit of a determined pout.
"You will." His hand slid under the sheets, caressing her bottom. Orihime gasped in that cute, innocent way of hers. Ichigo leaned closer. "After this."
:
Unfortunately, the rain continued the next day without showing a sign of stopping any time soon. Outside, in the veranda, sitting on the floor was Orihime. A purple knitted stole around her shoulders warded off the chill.
She pulled up her knees to her chest.
"If I were the rain, could I connect with someone's heart, just as it can unite the eternally separated earth and sky?"
"What was that?"
She turned her head to the right to look up to Ichigo's frowning face. He scowled at the torrents of rain and sat down next to her. "Who wrote that?"
"I made it up!" she giggled.
He gave her a sideways glance. "I didn't know I married a poet."
She laughed. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I'm very ordinary." She looked out to the sky. "It's something I wrote for a school assignment when I was in high school."
"Were you in love when you wrote that?"
She blinked at him.
His eyes darkened. "I'm very possessive, you know."
Orihime turned red, her heart skipping a beat. After calming her racing heartbeat, she replied, "I…" But she trailed off, suddenly feeling lost and terrified at the thoughts racing inside her head, the truth unfolding in her heart.
"What?"
"It wasn't about love." She finally answered.
He arched an eyebrow at her.
"It's about connection between two people despite how far and different they are from each other. Like the rain that unites the sky and the earth, a bond will always connect two persons no matter how vast the distance and differences are."
Laughing, Orihime scratched the top of her head. "It sounds so absurd, doesn't it?"
"No." Ichigo looked up to the grey sky. "It makes perfect sense to me."
One of her hands lifted to catch wayward droplets falling from the eaves. "People usually relate the rain with sadness and crying because they're tear-shaped. But in reality, they're actually shaped like a hamburger bun!"
He frowned at her dubiously. "They're not."
Orihime giggled. "It's true! They are round at first." She made a circle with her hands. "But as they fall, they lose their rounded shape and they become hamburger buns. They have flattened bottom and rounded top! They lose their original shape because of how fast they fall which is at nine meters per second, if they're at least five millimeters in diameter. But if they're bigger, they fall at ten meters per second."
Ichigo reached out and took her wet hand in his. A feeling surged through Orihime, coming from their joined hands. "I don't care if they're rain burgers but this weather is fucking uncooperative."
"It's okay! Maybe you could give me a tour and show me how wonderful this house is?" she quipped, curious about what could be found at the second floor.
He got to his feet and helped her up. "You mean how old this house is," he deadpanned.
The rain persisted until late afternoon. As requested, he brought her to the second floor after lunch and showed her the library with ceiling-high shelves of books, a small office, and the storage room full of junk like a turntable, LPs, an old-fashioned guitar, old magazines, paintings, and dusty toys.
Orihime now sat on the floor of the same veranda, reading a book of poems. Ichigo appeared behind her, sitting down. Stray hairs from her long auburn braid coiled around her neck. Enticed by the odd coloring, he rubbed the strands between his fingers, frowning. A blend of reds, oranges, honey, and gold, merged together.
Suddenly Orihime sat upright, a tremor wracking her body when his fingertips brushed the sensitive hairs on her nape. Wide-eyed, she turned her face toward him.
Ichigo fully pressed his palm on her nape, his eyes on her parted lips. Held by his large hand, her neck felt more fragile than a flower stem. He leaned closer until he could feel her nervous, quick breaths on his face.
Seeing her reaction, her breathlessness, the shiver that raced through her, the way she leaned toward him as though pulled by invisible strings, his lips quirked up in a small smile. Her eyes dropped to his mouth, fascinated, her tongue darting out to wet her lips.
Ichigo pulled away abruptly, startling Orihime out of her heated daze.
Avoiding her gaze, Ichigo lay supine on the floor, tucking his arms under his head to use them as a pillow.
"Read to me."
As she did, he found the sound of her voice strangely mesmerizing. He had never heard anything as charming and hypnotizing as it was before.
After two poems, his cell phone rang. Orihime paused in her reading, and scowling, Ichigo sat up and took out his cell phone.
"What is it?"
"Your Imperial Highness," a voice answered. It was not Ishida's, which caused Ichigo's scowl to deepen.
"Toshiro."
"It's Hitsugaya," the caller enunciated with a hint of irritation.
"Same thing. You're using Uryu's phone."
"This is a secured line."
Pause.
From the corner of his eye, Ichigo saw Orihime respectfully turned away, facing the rain. He got to his feet, patted Orihime on the shoulder and indicated to her that he'll be inside.
"What is it?" He stood by a window inside a room.
Hitsugaya told him.
Ichigo looked out to the garden and rain. "All of them?"
Hitsugaya answered, elaborating but Ichigo interrupted him.
"Stop. We'll talk about this tomorrow."
"Yes, sir."
Ichigo turned off his phone and stared outside. Sliding his phone into his pocket, he stepped out of the room. Orihime was still at the veranda, turning the pages carefully. Her braid shifted to the side when she moved her head slightly, the only bright thing in the gloomy picture of rain and dark clouds.
She chose a sonnet and recited it in her soft, sweet voice. It blended with the sound of rain, reminding him of a past, of a promise made one rainy day.
Ichigo listened, face hidden in the shadows.
:
As soon as they arrived, Ishida reported that Ichigo had a guest. He gave a nod, going in the direction of his office. But something held him back, causing him to look over his shoulder to see Hinamori fuss over a smiling Orihime who smothered the younger girl with a bear hug.
"I trust you had a pleasant vacation, sir."
Ichigo scowled heavily at his friend. "What the hell are you implying?" Ishida rarely gave random comments. Unless related to their subject matter, Ishida did not waste his breath on senseless talks.
"It's a comment. It doesn't mean a thing. Unless, you wish to give further details about your short vacation, we'll listen."
Ichigo's expression darkened into an irritated glower. Ignoring the remark wisely, he resumed his pace and asked for updates instead.
"Hitsugaya-san has the complete report. It's a very recent development. The announcement will probably take place next week."
In a corridor directly two floors above Ichigo and Ishida, Orihime and Hinamori were joined by an ecstatic Rangiku.
"Oh my, you're absolutely glowing, princess!"
Orihime pressed her palms to her red cheeks. "R-Really?"
"Positive! Oh, I wonder why…" Rangiku's smile broadened, blue eyes alight with mischief. "You have this radiant glow of an incredibly satiated woman." Ignoring Hinamori's scandalized expression, Rangiku continued, taking on a serious face. "How many times did you ride the pony?"
Hinamori spluttered next to Orihime, while the latter simply blinked at the question. "…ride the pony?"
Before Rangiku could further elaborate, Hinamori cut in, looking appalled. "Rangiku-san, that's very improper!" She was ignored yet again as the blonde went on, using plainer but blunt words to make Orihime understand.
"How many times did you two—"
"Rangiku-san!" cried Hinamori indignantly.
"—have sex?"
In her shock, Orihime stumbled forward, squeaking loudly. "R-Rangiku-san!"
Hinamori was quick to defend her. "Respect her privacy, Rangiku-san!"
"As one of her mentors, it is my obligation to teach her about facts of life."
Hinamori was red-faced, both in exasperation and embarrassment. "Her Highness doesn't need you interfering with her personal life!"
But the older woman was undeterred, focusing on the blushing princess. "So how many times did you do it? You can't remember? Is it too many to count?" Orihime gaped, eyes wide. "Ooh, this is exciting! In a few months time, there would be a lot of little orange-headed kids bawling and running down the corridors!"
Orihime stared at her blonde friend with a strange look in her eyes. Hinamori noticed this.
"Rangiku-san, that's enough! You're embarrassing her!"
"What's this commotion about?" Nanao soon came into view, a stern frown on her face. "I can hear your voices down the hallway. This is so unbecoming! And arguing in the presence of the Crown Princess? How disrespectful!"
Orihime snapped out of her daze to defend her new friends. "A-Ah, Nanao-san, they're not arguing. They're just involved in a rather energetic conversation."
"You would not believe this, Ise-san! Rangiku-san is—"
"Oh, it's nothing, Nanao." Rangiku waved a dainty hand, interrupting the younger girl. "It's a girl talk. Young Hinamori here clearly isn't ready to hear about it. So uptight! You need to loosen up a little, live a little. Perhaps you should ask Toshiro to help you relax, ne, Hi-na-mori-chan?"
Hinamori's eyes widened, her face turning bright red. Before she could retort, Nanao cut in with a curt "Enough." She turned to Orihime who looked distracted. "Are you all right?"
"O-Oh! Yes, thank you."
"Are you certain?"
"I'm perfectly all right! I had a wonderful short vacation so I'm worry-free. For now, at least!"
"Define 'wonderful'," Rangiku piped in. Nanao and Hinamori gave the blonde a sharp look, while Orihime turned crimson.
That night, after dinner, wearing a loose, white nightdress, Orihime stared at herself in the vanity mirror. Something about what Rangiku had mentioned strangely unsettled her.
Without thought, her hands rested on her stomach.
She'd love to have children one day; two boys and a girl; or two girls and a boy; perhaps four, all boys, all bright-haired like their father and just as handsome. But, being the person she really was, she was not fit to be a mother. This was not an ideal environment for a child. As soon as her husband found out who she was, what would his reaction be? He'd hate her and have her jailed or worst, executed. Who would not be repulsed with her? If around that time she had already bore a child, what would Ichigo do with their offspring? He was kind and will never harm an innocent but she could not stop herself from fearing what her child's future would be.
She tugged at the thin necklace, pulling it from inside her top until blue flowers appeared.
Nii-chan, what should I do?
There was one perfect solution. Perhaps the only option there was. But the thought of not having a child with Ichigo was painful. She wrapped an arm around her as though trying to contain her feelings, afraid she'll break apart from the pain filling her.
Her musings were interrupted when she heard approaching footfalls and Ichigo's voice calling her name. She quickly fixed her face and decided to worry about her predicament some other time.
notes. this chapter would not be here if it weren't for rairakku-hana. Many, many thanks to her awesomeness for reading through my draft despite her busy schedule 8D
THANK YOU. THANK YOU. for reading and most importantly, leaving reviews! :)
SO.
UM HAHA SMUT. heh /covers face. I hope it was passable :P i'm sure, by now, you guys have realized i wrote a lot of filler. :D in any case, i hope you guys were entertained.