AN: I am perpetually sorry for not updating as often as I know you would all like. I always have good intentions to start updating more and then life gets away from me, yet again. Not a fan. Rest assured, I will not be giving this one up. I intend to see it through to the smutty end!

*This chapter is uploaded without being Beta'd. It may eventually get reuploaded with Beta Edits which I look forward to, however in light of recent events I thought maybe everyone could do with an update. I hope everyone is well and stays that way!

Art of Love

By Red Courage

Chapter 12

Miaka gaped at the large house—mansion really, Hotohori had offered as the location for the ceremony. It was positively huge! And on a large set of grounds within the city limits. It had been after one in the morning when she and Nuriko had been been here last, and the next morning Miaka had been so preoccupied with her excitement at having found Hotohori she'd hardly paid attention at all as they left for her apartment.

"I bought this house a few years ago and had it renovated as a vacation home," Hotohori explained as they entered the foyer. His voice took on a bit of a lecturing tone as he showed Miaka and the other Seishi through the large living area which opened into several other rooms and a staircase leading to the second floor. It was a lovely traditional style home; and though the updates gave it a decidedly more European flair, the home had lost none of his original charm. "The family who sold it were happy for me to take it off their hands. They were having trouble selling it since their grandmother lived here alone until her death."

"A lonely death." Miaka felt a chill run down her spine at the thought and slowed her pace. It was commonly believed the spirits of a lonely death would haunt their former place of residence. Understandably, those homes were harder to sell and frequently fell by the wayside.

Nuriko nudged her playfully as he passed. "Don't tell me you're afraid of ghosts, Miaka no baka?" He winked over his shoulder at her, continuing to follow Hotohori and proclaiming loudly to the others, "Wait until you see the bathrooms!"

"I can perform a purifying ritual to cleanse the area of any lingering spirits, na no da." Chichiri offered, a warm hand settling onto her shoulder. Miaka nodded, laying her own hand atop Chichiri's and offering a smile.

"Thanks."

Up ahead, Tasuki cackled in response. "Good! There's only room for one Little Ghost and that's-ahhh! Stop! I'm sorry! It was a joke, man!" Tasuki hollered, fending off several blows from Tamahome as they walked. Miaka covered her mouth with a hand to stifle her giggles but Chichiri made no such effort, much to Tasuki's chagrin.

"Sheesh. Tamahome you have no sense of humor. I was kiddin'." He scoffed, looking put out at Chichiri's betrayal as he continued to explore, turning the lights on in various attached rooms, pausing to vigorously flip the switch when the dining room light stayed off. "Besides," He said, his usual bluster returning, "I dare any old lady ghosts to show their ugly faces around here."

With that statement, the lights came on to reveal a pale wrinkled face floating at eye level with Tasuki.

"Holy fucking shit!" The flame Seishi yowled, attempting to climb Mitsukake like a scared cat climbs a tree. "The ghost! She's real! Someone get rid of it! Chichiri! Perform an exorcism! Chant a sutra! Anything!"

"Relax." Mitsukake murmured, trying to wave the other Seishi off of him. "It's only Taitsukun."

Miaka tried not to laugh as Tasuki slowly calmed down, his hair practically standing on end and his fangs a little more prominent than usual. To tell the truth, she'd been startled as well. Mostly by Tasuki's screaming. The idea of a ghost haunting the premises was a little frightening, but then again…a ghost story like that would certainly help to keep people away. Which was exactly what they wanted.

"Why would you do that, you crazy old bat?" Tasuki huffed, straightening his clothes irately now that he had both feet on the ground again.

Taitsukun ignored Tasuki, instead floating her way out into the main living area, her eyes roving appreciatively over the large cherry wood paneled interior. "Well done, Hotohori. This is an excellent choice for a permanent gateway." She narrowed her eyes a little at the large picture windows looking out onto the lawn in both the front and back. If you squinted real hard you could just make out the busy streets beyond the grounds through a stand of trees.

"You may want to invest in some sort of a home security system. Not that it will keep the likes of me out, but it will perhaps deter any curious neighbors from investigating the very rich strangers who just moved in. One woman and seven men is sure to cause a stir." Taitsukun muttered. "Wouldn't want any young children to see something that might scar them for life."

"Like you?" Tasuki screamed when Taitsukun's bamboo purse seemed to come out of nowhere and boomeranged off his skull before landing in Taitsukun's hand.

Hotohori coughed politely, though Miaka wasn't convinced she didn't hear something that sounded like 'idiot' beneath it. "Yes, well. I'll look into that."

"The reputation of a house like this should be enough." Miaka reasoned. "Most people will think it's haunted and stay away."

"And still others will come by hoping to catch a glimpse of something unnatural." Taitsukun deadpanned. "You'll have to set up plenty of protective wards before the ritual."

Miaka flinched at Taitsukun's words. Did Taitsukun know what direction her thoughts had taken lately? Did she disapprove? Even after she'd seemed so supportive of the idea before? Or had Miaka simply misinterpreted her support for the ceremony as support for what Miaka knew would be considered unnatural for many?

"Speaking of the ritual, have you selected a date?" Taitsukun asked. "The sooner, the better."

Miaka opened her mouth to answer but nothing came out. Nervously, she cast a glance about at her Seishi. They hadn't really talked about it yet. Chichiri and Tasuki had the benefit of being available basically anytime, but most of her Seishi still had their own lives and jobs to attend to.

"Provided the Priestess is willing and it works out for everyone else, we could start as soon as tomorrow." Chichiri offered. "If that works for everyone, no da."

"Tomorrow? Isn't that a little soon?" Nuriko raised an eyebrow at the monk, who met his gaze unflinchingly.

"Like Taitsukun said, the sooner the better." Miaka gulped. "I don't need much, so I can pack a few things and be set. It's not like I can't go back to my apartment and grab extras if needed. Or have Yui bring them to me." She chewed her lip as she mulled over her next question. Their previous chi-sharing exercises had left her feeling quite energetic, but something of this magnitude worried her. "Will I be able to work? Or should I come up with an excuse?"

Taitsukun smiled gently. "Lady Miaka, I admire your zeal, but you will require adequate recovery time between each Seishi. I would suggest you not attempt to work or even leave this house for the duration of the ceremony."

"Right." She supposed that made sense—even though the idea of it made her a little stir crazy! Work was a stressor and running around Tokyo holding enough energy to summon a god was probably just asking for trouble.

"Don't worry, Miaka. We've got you covered." Nuriko offered. "Yui and I can tag team bringing you clothes and toiletries."

"Do not hesitate to ask if you need anything," Hotohori reminded them all. "I will be more than happy to provide it for you."

There was a resounding murmur of agreement from the rest of the Seishi, accompanied by expressions of retrained excitement.

"Thank you. Thank you all." Miaka felt a warmth that had nothing to do with her physical body and everything to do with the amount of love and support she felt from everyone in the room. "I suppose we've got ourselves a plan."

Miaka couldn't sleep. No matter what tricks she tried to make herself relax, her mind continued to race. It was her first night in the mansion—she, Tasuki, and Chichiri had gone back to the apartment and collected everything they would need for a week straight away and had returned that evening. If the ritual was to start the very next night, Miaka wanted some time to get acclimated to the house beforehand. She'd called Keisuke and left a message detailing where and how to reach her, also leaving the information with Yui—and by extension, Tetsuya. He hadn't called her back yet and Miaka knew he was going to need some time.

Her room was awash in pastel pink and powder blues, with the occasional bright pops of various shades of red and gold, tiny phoenix symbology incorporated throughout. She found it amazing Hotohori had done all of this even before he'd gotten his memory back. His ties to Suzaku and by extension the rest of the Seishi seemed even to rival her own. Even now, she could feel the traces of his chi that he'd given her every time they so much as brushed hands. Even Tamahome wasn't always that open about his feelings.

She rolled over to glance at the clock and froze, realizing it was well after midnight.

Today was the day.

Miaka rolled limply onto her back to stare at the ceiling. Was she ready? Were her Seishi ready? Everything had just happened so quickly and now… now she was almost out of time.

She tried for a while to go back to sleep but found her thoughts wandering throughout the mansion, brushing lightly against the energies of her nearby Seishi.

Tamahome, Nuriko, Mitsukake, and Chiriko had all gone back to their respective homes and were too far away for Miaka to feel anything. Hotohori and Tasuki were fast asleep—their respective chi patterns humming gently around them like nightlights, flickering momentarily brighter as she checked in on them. Chichiri, however, was still up and about, his energy was steady and strong, occasionally sending out bright pulses. Cleansing the house as he promised, Miaka was sure.

Grumbling, Miaka climbed out of bed and wrapped herself in her fluffy pink bathrobe. Perhaps a good wander around the house would help ease her anxiety and she'd be able to go to sleep.

Even though she actively tried to avoid him, it didn't take her long to accidentally run into Chichiri. Miaka swore under her breath as she nearly tripped over him coming around a corner. She'd mistakenly thought he was on the first floor, but now he was blocking the way back to her bedroom. Not wanting to disturb him during the cleansing process, Miaka halted, intending to go back around the long way when a soft intake of his breath stopped her.

"Good morning, Priestess." Chichiri said mildly, looking up at her through his rooster tail. He appeared to have been meditating or praying from the looks of the incense and sutra's scattered about. "Out for a stroll?"

Miaka nodded, clasping her hands nervously and wishing he wouldn't be so formal. He'd always been like that, but considering the nature of their changing relationship, now it seemed just a little cold. Especially when they would have to endure each other's company the way Taitsukun endured the Nyan Nyan's.

On second thought, that wasn't a great example.

Taitsukun merely seemed to tolerate the Nyan Nyan's and Miaka wanted much more than that from each of her Seishi. Although she'd hinted at her desire to continue having a relationship after the ceremony, she'd been too afraid to voice it as such just yet. Though from what Taitsukun said, they would have an eternity to figure things out once the ceremony was completed. There was no need to try and rush things beforehand.

Chichiri had been indispensable in helping Miaka and the others redefine how they thought about relationships and their feelings, but he'd remained somewhat aloof. Miaka was sure she'd seen a glimmer of desire here and there, but she was unsure what, if anything, that would translate into after the ceremony. She knew there would be time after, but still…

"Chichiri, I—" She trailed off, unable to get the words out.

"Yes, Priestess?" Chichiri raised an eyebrow in concern, breaking his serene expression.

"I—Nevermind." Turning on her heel, Miaka high-tailed it back down the hallway, the thuds of her bare feet echoing more loudly than she would have liked. She'd almost made it to her room when Chichiri's firm hand grasped her by the wrist.

"Priestess." His tone was gentle and questioning all at once and Miaka couldn't stand it anymore.

Frozen in place, eyes squeezed tightly shut as she refused to look at him, Miaka barked out, "I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?" Chichiri sounded baffled. His grip on her wrist shifted as he turned her to face him, gently drawing her nearer with the same motion.

Still, she refused to meet his eye, turning her face away as she forced out the barest of explanations. "For everything. The situation. I know this is your duty."

Chichiri brought her hand to his face, pressing his lips to the inside of her wrist. "Does that bother you?" He asked softly.

"Yes!" Miaka glanced up to see his brows lift in surprise at her vehemence. Sometimes she hated that damn mask. It made him so hard to read at times.

However, even with it on, Chichiri often managed to be one of her more expressive Seishi and she could see he was hurt, though he quickly hid it, saying, "If it helps, Priestess, I would never have tried to sleep with you or do anything to take you away from Tamahome if not for the ceremony."

Miaka felt her heart sink at his words. Had she imagined all the lustful glances and tense moments they'd shared."That's the problem," she whispered fiercely. "I don't want it to be just duty." She had just enough time to see his masked face make its approximation of surprise before she broke down in tears.

Chichiri's breath hitched as she jerked her wrist away to cover her face with her hands and slide down the wall into a heap. Crouching next to her, Chichiri embraced her and made soothing noises while Miaka tried to get a hold of herself. She hadn't meant to blurt out her feelings like that. She supposed she was lucky Chichiri hadn't left or laughed at her.

Several moments passed and Miaka finally felt brave enough to take a peek at her stalwart monk. He was kneeling now, his loosely wrapped kesa acting as a cloak and encasing the two of them. If she didn't know better, she'd have thought the arm holding her might've tightened a bit. And he was stroking her hair. When he realized she was looking at him he brushed her cheek gently with a knuckle as he continued to play with a strand of her hair, looping it around his index finger.

Suzaku he was too good for her. Here he was, sitting alone with her in a darkened hallway while she was throwing a veritable fit.

"Feel better?" He asked.

Miaka nodded, trying to be subtle about wiping the snot away with the sleeve of her pajamas.

"Good." He stood then, reaching down and offering a hand to help her up. "It's late. Perhaps you should return to bed."

Nodding miserably, Miaka grunted in agreement, taking the few short steps to her bedroom door. Thankfully he made no comment about her puffy eyes or loss of control, allowing her to cross the threshold and shut the door almost all the way before he reached out to stop her with less than an inch to spare.

Leaning in close, he whispered, "With you, Priestess, it's never been just about duty. And it never will be."

The other Seishi had all agreed to go out for the afternoon and evening, to give them some privacy. A much-appreciated gesture on their part. And one that hadn't come soon enough. Miaka wasn't entirely certain where Hotohori was going to take Tasuki, or how the Emperor turned pop-star was going to control the feisty bandit in the modern world. She'd be all ears to hear the story tomorrow when they returned.

But right now Miaka was trying to wrap her brain around the fact she was about to sleep with Chichiri.

Miaka sank into the water up to her eyes, blowing bubbles of anxiety and desire as she stared at the door leading to her bedroom. Chichiri's last words to her the night before had managed to fill the void she'd felt, soothing her fears that he was only participating in the ceremony because he had to and not out of a desire to be with her. They'd also left her frustrated and wanting with dreams that titillated but did not satisfy.

She knew Chichiri was undergoing similar purification rituals in his own bathroom. Was he as nervous as she was? He'd indicated that he, like most of the others, was not a virgin. He was also nine years her senior. Though he and Tasuki had both assured her that her lack of experience wouldn't be an issue, Miaka couldn't shake the idea that she was going to disappoint them somehow.

Maybe she'd just never leave the bathroom. This one was bigger than her apartment living room. More than large enough to live in for the rest of her life.

Miaka sighed, trying to quiet her mind and focus on the task ahead—summoning Suzaku.

The ritual oils and incense were fragrant, making her skin feel softer than usual and giving her the impression she was back in Konan. Unbidden, flashes from her previous dreams invaded her mind, making her flush a deeper shade than the already hot bath water had achieved.

Despite the heat, Miaka shivered when she thought about what was going to happen. She and Chichiri were going to… make love sounded so cheesy, but it wasn't just about the ritual or sex for her or Chichiri. Or any of her Seishi. This act would solidify their relationships in a new and permanent way like nothing before. Even though after the ceremony they would all be living together and essentially be immortal, the act of loving each of her Seishi in this was seemed like the bigger deal. She wished they'd had a little bit more time to sort out everything before performing the ceremony, but according to Taitsukun there was no telling what might happen between the two worlds the longer they waited.

Steadying her nerves, Miaka rose from the purifying bath to finish getting ready.

Suzaku, why? Chichiri mentally asked for what seemed like the thousandth time since learning about the ceremony. Why would Suzaku do this to him? To Miaka? To any of them?

As always, the phoenix god remained silent, and Chichiri thought maybe Suzaku was telling him he already knew the answer to his questions.

Chichiri was woefully unprepared for this. He'd spent so much time making sure his fellow Seishi and Miaka were prepared, he had neglected to care for himself in the same manner.

Miaka was performing a similar purification ritual in her own rooms. She was to come to his room when she was ready. Chichiri reflected momentarily on the moment Taitsukun had voluntold him that he would be the one to start off the ceremony. He'd been shocked at first, and then understanding. Of course, he needed to go first. As Taitsukun had said, he was the only one qualified to walk Miaka through her part in the ceremony. Underneath it all, he was also secretly a little pleased. Miaka was innocent in the ways of the flesh and Chichiri could not deny the idea of being her first was more than a little thrilling.

Suzaku give me strength. Chichiri sighed heavily as he slipped on a clean house yukata. He shuffled about the room Hotohori had prepared for him, trying to distract himself with preparations as he waited for Miaka. Finally, he forced himself to sit and meditate. The room was simple, nearly austere in nature, with its plain wooden furniture full of clean lines and a few quirky decorative pieces. There was even a kitsune mask hanging on one wall opposite a painting of a temple.

Before long, Chichiri sensed Miaka approaching, her chi bounding wildly and indicating a rapid, nervous, heartbeat. He breathed out, trying to release his own pent up anxiety and tension as a light knock sounded at his door.

Rising smoothly from his cross-legged position, Chichiri opened the door to reveal Miaka standing there in a fluffy pink bathrobe, her eyes cast down demurely.

"Welcome, Priestess," Chichiri greeted warmly, unable to keep the deep affection he felt for her out of his voice.

"Chichiri." Miaka looked up, her large eyes hidden by the angle and her bangs.

Moving to the side, Chichiri motioned for Miaka to enter his room. "Please, come in."

Miaka entered, looking curiously around his room and seeming pleased with what she saw. Chichiri shut the door gently, noting that Miaka jumped at the subtle click of the latch.

"So how do we do this?" Miaka asked, turning quickly to face him. Her hands wrung at the sleeves of her robe nervously.

Chichiri was impressed at her willingness to get down to business, but he wondered if this was her way of avoiding her own feelings on the matter. He was having a difficult time containing himself. "The idea is for all of the Seishi to eventually impart the majority of their energy to you. First, we must both raise our chi—similar to what you've done when you've shared chi with us this past week."

"Right." Miaka sighed and he could feel her center herself and her energy where she stood. She was a fast learner, and she was getting very good.

"Perfect," Chichiri smiled. "During the ritual, your energy must be systematically opened, ready to receive… and then expanded with the energy of the Seishi at the time of release." Despite himself his face burned at the explanation.

Miaka nodded at first and then scrunched her face in confusion. "But…Won't that be too much energy for me?"

"It would seem that way," Chichiri agreed, "However, the expansion and contraction of our auric fields enables yours to stretch beyond its normal capacity to contain the energy imparted by the Seishi. Besides," He assured her, "You handled the power of Suzaku himself residing inside you. I've no doubt you can handle the seven of us."

"Okay." Miaka's determined expression struck Chichiri to the core. It reminded him of the expression she'd had when she summoned Suzaku the first time. She'd looked suddenly older and wiser, and oh so strong. Her expression faltered as she glanced uncertainly at the bed, and then at him. "I'm ready whenever you are."

Chichiri nodded as he moved to turn down the lights. He was slow and deliberate in his motions, lighting some incense and performing short prayers and sutras as he moved about the room. Tentatively, Miaka stood before him, her robe sliding from her shoulders ever so slightly as she tried to force herself to relax in preparation for what was to come.

Chichiri could tell her nerves were on edge-causing her aura to be completely erratic, the flow of energy setting Chichiri's own nerves alight. It was all he could do not to throw her down like an animal and ravish her. "Calm down, Miaka. Your chi is jumping all over the place."

Miaka's chi spiked again, this time with nervousness and potent arousal, sending Chichiri's carefully cultivated calmness into chaos. He found himself standing over her, his body a hairs breadth from hers, his palms itching to touch her.

"I just need you to do one thing," She breathed, looking up at him with eyes clouded with desire.

"And what is that?" His voice was suddenly husky with want and he wished he still had the wherewithal to be embarrassed about it.

"Take off the mask."

Chichiri swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. The mask was his last line of defense. Though he'd removed it often in the past couple of weeks, especially when it came to having these sorts of conversations with his sweet priestess, suddenly the idea terrified him. It would leave him open, exposed.

Vulnerable.

Was he ready for that?

Miaka looked up at him innocently, waiting for him to comply with her request. Something in Chichiri withered at the complete and total trust shining in her eyes. He felt like a heel. He was afraid of showing Miaka the man that lay beneath the mask, and exposing his old scars to her light, but she was putting herself in a vulnerable position with this ceremony with him. She was a virgin for Suzaku's sake! This was her first time. And instead of being with Tamahome, the man she'd been in love with since she was fifteen, she was going to be with Chichiri.

The Monk sighed as he reached up to remove his mask. He didn't deserve her. No one did. But to have that choice taken away for the sake of summoning Suzaku, and for him to be the one to have to do it… For him to steal this moment from Miaka and Tamahome…it was enough for Chichiri to want to just walk away.

"Chichiri?" Miaka reached out to grasp his hand and he realized he was shaking. "Are you okay?" The concern stamped all over her face broke his heart.

Chichiri managed a stiff nod, setting the mask aside on the dresser. "I'm fine." He had to get himself under control. His ability to remain cool under pressure was one of the reasons Taitsukun had mandated that he be the first. And Miaka had held no objections. Even now, as he studied her face, she was placing her trust and her body in his hands.

It had been eight long years since he'd been intimate with a woman, and while Miaka brought out a desire to protect her and shower her with his love, his darker, more primal urges, the ones he usually kept locked in a box in the basement of his soul, were making a nuisance of themselves. If he listened carefully, he could hear them thudding heavily against the lid of the metaphorical trunk they lived in and threatening to break free. Already, they'd pitched a tent in his loose pants in embarrassing anticipation.

Taking a deep breath and letting it out very slowly, Chichiri reached out, resting his hands over Miaka's shoulders, marveling at how delicate she seemed in comparison to him. Her chi was another story altogether, her life force radiating warmly and flickering against his own with shy touches that left him quaking where he stood. "Shall we begin?"

Miaka nodded, raising up on her tiptoes to try and kiss him and Chichiri jerked back as if burned. "No."

Miaka froze, looking up at him with wide eyes filled with hurt. "N-No?"

Chichiri swallowed thickly, his mind racing at how best to explain himself. "Don't kiss me. At least, not on the lips." He looked away for fear she'd see too much in his remaining eye.

"Why not?" Her face scrunched in adorable confusion and he groaned.

Chichiri's chest ached. He wanted desperately to kiss her. To know her the way Tamahome, Hotohori, and Tasuki knew her. But… he didn't deserve it. His role here was simply to introduce Miaka to sex so that she could perform the ceremony. Bringing his feelings, his wants, his desires for more into it… well that just seemed too dangerous.

"I love you, Miaka." He rasped, "And, like the others… I'm a man. I want you. But…" Chichiri trailed off, trying to put his thoughts into words. Before Taitsukun had taken him in, he'd spent three years wandering and frequenting taverns, slaking his lust with anyone who was willing in an attempt to forget Korin and his broken heart. He'd done things with women he was quite sure would make even Tasuki blush. Things he desperately wanted to try with Miaka but knew she wouldn't be ready for.

Miaka was too good for him. And he needed to keep a barrier of some sort between them or risk losing his tenuous control.

"Kissing is too intimate." He managed, at last. "I have to be able to focus on directing our energies for the ceremony."

"Okay." Miaka agreed, trying to mask her disappointment. "That sounds fair." She took a breath. "Then, tell me what you want me to do."

Her words caused his manhood to harden even further, straining against their confines. Murmuring one last prayer for himself under his breath, Chichiri managed to nudge Miaka gently towards the bed. "Sit down, please, Priestess."

Thankfully, Miaka did as he asked without argument, climbing to sit daintily in the center of the bed, her still damp hair slightly disheveled. Taking a deep breath, Chichiri moved to kneel on the fluffy duvet, deliberately scooting behind Miaka so she couldn't see his face and the temptation to kiss her senseless would be lessened. Slowly, he edged up behind his priestess until his knees cradled her hips.

His hands settled gently onto where the bathrobe slipped from her shoulders, daring to press his long fingers into her already overheated flesh as he attuned himself to her chi. He hummed comfortingly, allowing the sound to wash over his Priestess, imparting the depth of his devotion to her as he breathed her name. "Miaka." On his lips, her name sounded almost like a prayer.

In only seconds, his aura had enveloped hers, forming a sort of cocoon and smoothing out the jagged spikes of energy radiating from his priestess. Chichiri inhaled slowly through his nose at the sensation of her aura fluttering against his. With that breath came the scent of her warm skin and hair, causing a familiar tightening in his abdomen and nether regions. The air between them seemed suddenly hot, and Chichiri breathed out, unable to take his eyes off the auburn tresses displaced by the minute movement of air.

Miaka leaned into his touch, her breath hitching in such a way that Chichiri's grip tightened, his thumbs stroking the back of her neck languidly. In the vanity mirror across the room, Chichiri could see Miaka bite her lip, her hands fisting in the robe at her knees. Her chi pushed against his, as though afraid of letting go.

Allowing himself a small smile, Chichiri used one hand to move her mass of hair to one side, baring her right shoulder and neck as he buried his nose in her hair. "No need to keep quiet." He placed light kisses to the skin behind her ear and down her neck. "We've got the place to ourselves, remember?" His remaining hand crept forward, fingertips brushing collar bone and the dip at the base of her throat before changing course and ever so slowly pulling the neck of the robe wider and down her shoulder. "Let me hear you."

Miaka tilted her head, giving a small nod and allowing the monk better access to her neck. Chichiri caressed her pulse point generously. Miaka's chi wavered at his attention and Chichiri dared to lightly suckle at the sensitive skin, succeeding in pulling a muffled moan from Miaka.

The sound spurred Chichiri to tighten his grip on Miaka's hair, the other intent on removing the fluffy robe from his priestess, delighting in every inch of skin revealed in the mirror. Chichiri's breathing quickened, beads of sweat beginning to form at his brow as Miaka's pert breasts came into view. The robe now hung haphazardly at Miaka's elbows, her chest rising and falling with her heavy breathing.

Gripping Miaka by the waist, Chichiri pulled her flush against him, her bare back pressed to his chest where his yukata opened, his manhood pressed intimately against her rear as his hands came to rest at her stomach. Slowly, he trailed his hands upward, barely grazing the soft skin, stopping just below her breasts and moving to cup them gently.

"I always thought you were a handful, Priestess." He teased, voice low in her ear.

"Chichiri!" Miaka gasped, her face glowing red.

He laughed softly as he nibbled her earlobe, squeezing her breasts so her gasp became a moan of pleasure. "I mean no disrespect, Priestess. I only speak the truth." As he spoke, his left hand released her breast, traversing its way to the juncture of her thighs. Miaka's chi pulled away from him reflexively and he set about helping her relax in the best way he could think of.

Again, she bit her lip, pressing against him as his fingers slid into the soft curls. "Chi-Chi-Chichiri," she protested weakly as his forefinger discovered the hidden bundle of nerves, already wet with want. Her chi shivered against his, still fighting becoming one with his own. Deftly, he began to stroke, his other hand kneading her breast firmly. After a moment, he dipped farther, the gathered moisture assisting him in his endeavors. His skillful fingers swirled, building heat and tension while Miaka's hands, trapped by the robe as they were, found purchase on his thighs.

Patiently, Chichiri stroked her until the tight bud-shaped nub began to open, the shape changing ever so slightly, the petals below seeming to form a slick pathway deeper into Miaka's depths. Forging onward, his fingers encountered the edge of her maidenhood, the skin changing texture, becoming rougher, hotter. For long moments he teased her, stroking from the tip of the bud all the way to her entrance and back again. His tongue mimicked the motion of his fingers, first pressing to the space behind her ear, then curving along the shell only to delve inside for a brief second before starting all over again.

Miaka wriggled, thrusting her hips towards his fingers and mewling. Finally, Chichiri slid not one, but two fingers inside her, immediately hooking them back and causing Miaka to arch against him, lifting her hips entirely off the bed with a cry and shudder as she came.

Chichiri pressed his lips to her hair, breathing in her scent as she trembled in his arms, his fingers still inside her. He rocked her gently as she relaxed against him, her energy field finally merging with his like two drops of water. Pulling his hand away, Chichiri wiped it on the edge of the robe as he helped Miaka remove it entirely from her overheated body.

It wasn't long before she recovered and wrested herself from his grip, turning to face him with a glassy expression. "What was that?"

"I believe it's called an orgasm, Priestess."

She swatted him across his still clothed chest with a hiss. "I thought we were supposed to… well… you know." She glanced quickly at his nether regions before looking away.

"Oh we will. Be patient, these things take time." He guided her hand towards what was now a fairly obvious tent in his yukata, allowing her to feel the length and girth of his manhood. Her eyes widened and she swallowed.

"How…will that even fit?" Her eyes held a modicum of fear and Chichiri was unsure whether to be proud or ashamed.

"Trust me, Priestess. It will fit. And I promise it won't hurt." He placed a kiss on her forehead as he leaned over her, the yukata falling to reveal his shoulders and back.

"I trust you."

Chichiri's heart swelled at her words and he throbbed against her hand, closing his eye at the sensation as he allowed himself to press against her with a hiss of air between his teeth.

Miaka pulled away at the sound. "Did I hurt you?"

Chichiri moaned, pulling himself out of the confines of his clothing to press against her thigh urgently. "Only if you stop."

"Oh." Miaka flushed and leaned forward as if to kiss him.

Chichiri quickly angled his face from her, bringing his attention to her neck, then laving his tongue along the tops of her breasts and continuing through the valley between. Even though he knew she accepted him and all his faults, kissing her, was just too much. He paused a moment to capture first one nipple, and then the other, fully in his mouth as Miaka leaned back to give him more access, her chest heaving with exertion. His nose indented her breast as he tongued her taut peaks, pulling away with an audible pop.

Miaka panted, her fingers woven through the long hair at the base of his neck as he laid her down on the pillows. She seemed unsure as to whether she wanted to pull him closer or push him away in her throes of pleasure and Chichiri loved it.

Feeling Miaka's energy finally open to him fully, Chichiri slowly crawled back up her body to cradle himself between her legs, pressing against her. Propping himself up on his elbows, he rubbed himself against her slick opening. Breathless, Miaka turned her head in another attempt to kiss him, but Chichiri turned away again, tucking his chin into her shoulder as he prepared to enter her. With a final cant of his hips, Chichiri slid in easily to the hilt. Miaka barely flinched as he filled her completely.

Chichiri shuddered, having to reach down and pinch himself at the base to keep from emptying into Miaka far too soon. Sweat rolled down his back and he didn't dare move for some moments, gasping at the feel of her surrounding him. He'd forgotten how good a woman could feel. Even if he hadn't been celibate the past eight years he doubted any amount of sleeping around could have prepared him for the sensation of becoming one with Miaka.

"Are you okay?" Miaka said breathlessly, her eyes clouded with lust, were also shining with concern.

"Yeah." He swallowed. "Just… I need a moment." After he brought himself back from the edge, Chichiri sighed, once again placing his elbow on the bed to keep from crushing Miaka. When he did begin to move, he moved slowly, his hips barely moving in order to give Miaka time to adjust. Soon enough though, Miaka began to move against him in rhythm, quiet mewls and whimpers escaping her lips with each movement.

Encouraged, Chichiri pulled out further to meet his Priestess thrust for thrust as their energy swirled around them.

After some moments, Miaka shifted, trying to find the best position for her arms and legs. The movement changed the tilt of her pelvis and the angle of her passage, causing Chichiri to slip out. Deftly, Chichiri reached down to reposition himself and pressed home with one good deep thrust that made Miaka gasp and arch her back. Smiling, Chichiri circled his hips at this new depth and Miaka tossed her head back with a loud, "Oh!" that left her throat exposed to his greedy lips.

Chichiri ran his nose along her jaw as he mouthed the pale column of her throat. Unable to resist the temptation, he laved her pulse point and sealed his lips there, applying just enough suction to leave a mark and for her to keen in want, thrusting upwards to seat him more deeply with every stroke, her nails leaving pink trails along his shoulder blades.

Almost there.

Chichiri panted against her neck, sweat dripping off them both. A quick shift had him cheek to cheek with Miaka as his pace began to falter.

Miaka's body clenched around Chichiri as it prepared to orgasm. Her chi was pulsing wildly as he focused his own energy, readying himself to give it all to her. But not yet. She wasn't quite ready.

Miaka gasped, her back arching as she finally came. She clutched Chichiri to her, her heels driving into his buttocks to hold him as deeply inside as she could manage while she writhed against him. Her passage pulsed like the heart of a bird, the muscles running like fingers along his shaft.

Miaka grabbed his face, her fingers winding tightly into the hair at the base of his neck, and kissed him roughly. Her mouth slanted across his, her tongue delving into his mouth for the first time and he was lost. Chichiri moaned deeply into Miaka's mouth, the sound barely audible as they kissed feverishly. He released the chi he'd been holding back, his abdomen clenching hard as he came. Chichiri's arms shook as his chi flowed out of him and into Miaka, collapsing on his priestess as her body milked his of all reserves, her legs locked about his hips as she rolled against him in continued pleasure.

"Wow." Miaka breathed, her words lost between kisses.

Chichiri panted, spent, as he breathed against her collar bone. "I told you it wouldn't hurt, Priestess."

To Be Continued…