I do not own InuYasha or any of the characters created by Rumiko Takahashi

Melting

Kagome's skin was hot beneath him, burning hotter than the summer night with her own personal fire. InuYasha ghosted his lips across hers and down her throat. She arched up, eyes closed, making a small gasp as his lips and tongue ran a line down to her collarbone.

"Melt for me, woman," he murmured, grinding himself against her as he continued his assault on her soft, salty-sweet skin, along the side of her neck. "I want to see just how liquid I can make you."

Her hands, wrapped around his neck and under the silver of his hair parted and gave way as he slid down her body, his hands running feather touches down her side, across her thighs, then returning to cup her breasts. His mouth continued to taste, to plant small kisses and licks. He mouthed one of her nipples, his hand cupping the other breast, and nibbled lightly, then tugged as he suckled. Looking up, he watched as she arched up, her hands threading in his hair, teasing his ears. His left ear flicked against her hand as he lifted his head far enough to blow air softly against the damp skin, pulling a moan from her and she arched again into the sensation.

"You're so beautiful like this," he whispered, and then, briefly cupping both soft mounds, switched his mouth to the other.

One hand slid between her thighs, gently touching the velvety skin there, pulling a soft needy sound from her, then slid up, one knuckle gently parting her folds. Her hips bucked, wanting more, and she cried out.

Her legs encircled him, trying to pull him closer, and he slid back up until his mouth tasted hers again. "Tell me what you want," he said between kisses, nibbling on her bottom lip.

"I want," she breathed, sliding her arms under his to wrap around his back.

"Me too," he said. "So much."

He slid into her, or maybe was engulfed by her. It didn't really matter. And for a moment, as he found the rhythm that pleased them both, touching her in ways that made sure her pleasure was as great as possible, he clung to the need to keep her there, crescendoing against him. Watching her, her bangs plastered against her forehead, her beauty and her wanting pushed in into a place only she could bring him, until he crashed into and through that wall that let him control the moment, and with a cry rode out the moment where there was no her, no him, only them.