I love 10
I love chapter 10 for those who missed it on FF.NET
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach. Only my pervy thoughts.
Author’s Note: This is for DarkLori. She is my cheerleader in writing, and I’m so appreciative of her friendship. Read her stories - she’s awesome! And while you’re there, beg her to continue! I want to read her lemon!!
Special thanks to F1yMordecai for edits! Special uber thanks to your wonderful reviewers! Love you guys!!
Setting: Bleach Universe
Rated: M. Unlike other smut I’ve written, there’s a lot of vulgar words. Usually I sugar coat it. Not this time. You’ve been warned. Since lemons aren’t allowed on FF.N I will take out the sex part (which is most of the chapter) in a week - so enjoy while it’s here. I will post it in my LJ of course.
I love
10. I love that they bring the best out of each other.
-
A sudden growl.
A throbbing lip.
A heated, messy kiss.
Angry sex is one of the best kinds of sex.
Blunt nails presses into his tanned skin hard. With this zeal they prick him, drawing red liquid to the surface. Those same nails skim down his strong arms as she crawls up and over his thighs, legs parted. Her mouth meets his with a need that rivals thirst and starvation; they jam, clamoring for domination of sorts. Fingers then pull orange hair when he thrusts three fingers inside of her.
His mouth silences her screams, and then she feasts like a hungry little thing. She bites, she breathes, she moans. His own crooked smile vanishes when he groans, reaching far inside of her as he possibly can, pulling back briefly and then searching again. As liquid heat flows from her, onto his fingers and hand, and down her inner thighs, the look of want and need crosses her face with such ferocious determination that he releases her.
Rukia hisses at him.
There is nothing soft about their kisses or touches. There is nothing soft about them.
“Why…” Her raspy breath makes that crooked smile reappear. She does not bother to finish her sentence - Why did you stop? Not when they played this game - take what you want, don’t ask questions.
Rukia’s violet eyes are wet and shiny, so alert of him. She does not think of what she is feeling - anger, passion, zeal - all rolled into one messy thing that she really does not want to understand. Sweat drips down her naked back as she takes three slow breaths to calm herself.
But calm does not come. Something tingly, hot and real lights at her core and she wants nothing more to feel that epic rise and glorious explosion. Her smile almost mirrors his when she flies towards him, digging into his arms to steady herself, and her pink mouth meets his with demanding kisses.
His tongue and saliva fills her and then his teeth nips at her lower lip - chewing, sucking, pulling. He shows her his teeth and they shine hotly, brilliantly, promising more bites to come. His tongue moves against hers again, clashing like two bending swords, too greedy and almost too commanding.
Only she could keep up with him. Only she could catch up with his quick movements of his fingers, touches, body, tongue, kisses, mouth… Only her.
Soon, very soon, her heart beat metastasizes up her throat as his mouth comes over her nipple, kissing, licking and sucking. She does not think what is he doing really - she could feel his tongue making circles, and then his teeth in her breasts, and she gasps, she screams. Her nipples are erect now, raw and bruised, and when he is finished, they shrivel. Almost cold.
It’s okay. She will punish him anyways.
It commences when her fingers and hand wraps around his stiff sword, as she likes to call it. In response, he sits up straight-really he has no choice. She rubs up and down, occasionally cupping his balls, massaging, petting. She smiles when she knows it’s getting harder to breathe.
Damn it.
He will not be so distracted… he will not let her win…
No, he would make her cave, and scream, and moan before him.
The mattress under them is too soft. The chocolate-brown sheets are a nuisance, tangled up and over his leg. He is too preoccupied with her attacks to do anything about it. Especially when she begins to kiss the tip of his penis and then rubs harder and harder till he stops holding her, shutting his eyes. In the moment, the heat and pleasure grows so hot that he wants to erupt and fuck her so bad and so deeply. Hazel eyes snap open and Ichigo finally manages to look at her.
In one brief moment their eyes lock. Knowing this dance too well, her hands plant themselves on his shoulders. His hands grips around her round ass, an area he appreciates very much actually. A sound like a growl and a groan floats in the air when he squeezes tightly, pulling her near him. Now, her weeping, wet core hovers over his burning sword. Their bodies ache with heat, need, and passion.
“Ruki-”
The mattress is too soft for them when she mounts him, sheathing his hard dick around her. There is no hesitation in the act. No carefulness in fucking him. Not one ounce of gentleness of becoming one. But there is twisted trust and unresolved fervor.
Almost immediately, he gasps her name, wrapping arms around her, needing to feel her solid form. Her own mouth echoes in his; her arms around his neck, needing support, needing him.
It was funny that twenty minutes ago they were fighting, an outburst of built up annoyance for each other. It all started with the usual insults.
“Your drawings suck.”
“And you’re a fool. You can’t recognize good art when you see it.”
These arguments progressed at school.
“Both of us don’t need to go.”
“I’m the real shinigami remember?”
“So what? Your Captain gave me this badge.”
The summer heat didn’t help at all.
“You told me too late!”
“Don’t blame your injuries on me! Think before you leap in battle. You have a brain for a reason, or do you not have one?!”
Day after day, the conflicts came.
“Did you finish my ice cream?”
“Who said it was your ice cream?”
“Your dad bought it for me! Not you! You could have at least told me. Now give me money so I can buy more.”
“What? No. I have no money.”
She did not look amused and left him like that, stewing for a week. It was almost forty minutes that she returned in his bedroom.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Say what?”
“You just left!”
“So, what? Are you the boss of me?”
“No, but you can’t just go like that.”
“I had shinigami duties to attend to. Did you at least buy me more ice cream?”
“Yeah, but it’s gone already. If you hadn’t left, then we wouldn’t have this problem.”
Rukia threw her hands up in frustration. Sometimes, his nonchalance and rudeness irked her.
“If you weren’t mean, then I wouldn’t have left!” Her index finger pointed at him.
His jaw fell as if she grew five heads. “If you weren’t so demanding then maybe I wouldn’t be mean!”
“I’m not demanding. I’m fair.” Something dangerous glinted in her eyes, telling him she was going to kick his ass. “Clearly I’m not wanted here.” The shinigami turned to jump out of his window but she was stopped when he grabbed her arm and pulled her back into the room.
In retaliation, Rukia pushed him hard. “Idiot.” Her violet eyes were vivid and almost wild.
He knew that look well. He knew that look well enough that five minutes later, they managed to rip the clothes off each other’s back with the summer’s moon watching.
Now she is riding him like she owns him. Her coral nipples and breasts graze over him every time she comes up and down, her jaw moving slightly as she respires. Soon she is moaning, and each moan comes with a harsh exhale. Heat is building every time she humps, her body turning aflame and aching more.
Truthfully, he enjoys watching her like this. She moves like a nymph and though her hair is disheveled and some parts are stuck to her face, she is still beautiful. More so, the feeling of her lithe, wet body against his makes Ichigo want to hold her longer and fuck her till she passes out with pleasure. Rukia looks at him once again, and her violet eyes still shine with a strange, fiery awareness. As the glistens of perspiration decorate her naked skin and her movements become more erratic, she groans his name, adding urgency with the harsh tug of his hair.
“Ich-“
That haze crosses her face. The angry precision she was capable of before is slipping away like water off a rooftop. Her breaths are quicker and beads of sweat roll from the side of her head. More liquid is building from inside of her pink cavity. Her mouth no longer can hold any smirk and only be left open - struggling to breathe, struggling to stay inside of her own skin.
Rukia is close, riding him harder and harder like he is a plastic toy. The bed moves like the shaking ground after a lightning strike. It is becoming harder and harder to see, and the pleasure is leaking and flowing and pouring.
He whispers her name.
She cries out his.
Rukia pulls orange hair again and he enjoys it. Enjoys it too much really. Is it normal to enjoy this - angry sex - so much? Isn’t love supposed to be warm, giving and kind? Or are they just twisted and broken and so incapable of communication?
Real love is warm, giving, and kind; but it is also more than that. It is messy and imperfect - accepting faults and all. It is accepting the darker layers of a person’s soul. Rukia never expected him to be a white knight. The shinigami never expected these beautiful story book ideas from him. But the biggest irony was that he could be…for her. Because no matter how crappy and broken he is, she somehow still loves him. She would always love him. And no matter how crappy and broken she could ever become - he’d do the same for her. He’d still love her.
God, how he loves this woman.
That hazy look intensifies, becoming foggier as her eyes roll back. He savours the sound of his name on her coloured lips and relishes the silky wetness of her pussy, but he knows her demanding fucks are becoming too much for her. She is almost there and Ichigo takes his chance to finish this game they play.
She tries to spread further, to be filled of him more completely, but it cannot be done alone. Her eyes look almost grateful when he maneuvers her under him, pulling a shapely leg out to stretch her, and opening her as wide as he can. His rough hands roam up her thigh to her behind, curving on her left cheek. He meets her thrusts, enjoying the euphoric waves stretching from his groin throughout his body.
But he is not done.
His right hand plants itself beside her chest as he moves in and out quickly, deeply. Rukia becomes more vocal now; her heavy pants become louder, echoing his groans. They both ache and sweat, to be filled completely, to be whole that he pushes deeper inside of her.
Ichigo squeezes her ass hard, pulling her into him as he rams into her, giving her no cushion. Faster and faster, deeper and deeper, his thrusts come hard as if he wants to break her… as if he owns her, as if she was only a plastic toy.
What other woman would tolerate this? What other woman would tolerate him for everything he was? If it didn’t show in the way he just ran into battle, his wild nature pervaded into the most secret times of night. On those few nights, this feral side came out like a beast. No human woman could take him on, survive his strength and challenge his being. And it was hard to find a person who didn’t feel like a weak thing, a helpless animal. Because preying on the weak was not fun. It was not his style.
And she was strong. He didn’t have to worry about her safety, especially not like this. Even if her body became licked in red marks, her skin inflamed by his touches, it would be okay.
“Ich-Ichi-Ich-Ichi-aahhh!”
He fucks her harder and the emerging precipice is so, so close. Ichigo feels the slight contractions of her pussy and her hesitation to give in. Soon, she finally comes, she fucking cums, and she screams his name.
“I-chi-Go!”
Her walls caves around him, her toes curl, and her fingers bore into his tough skin. As the rush of euphoria possesses her being, her body crosses the bridges of actin and myosin to contract her muscles, stiffening her form. At the same time, her head violently flies back against his pillow and her shoulders presses tightly against the mattress. A sound resembling the offspring of a scream and a moan fills the air. Like a broken juice box, her female ejaculation spills from her tired legs and she is blind and mute, and weightless and careless.
In euphoria.
Ichigo follows her. As her hips remain in the air with him, the climax sends a fierce release and shaking pleasure throughout his body. His penis erupts his semen, filling her more completely than ever before. The human knew he said her name though he cannot gauge if it was a moan, or groan, or scream or a combination of it all. The immense relief and happiness of just pleasing her consumes him, and with his own rocking pleasure, he shakes again and again, content and ecstatic. He too is completely wet, free and lifted that soon Ichigo feels himself smiling, despite the whole week of scowling.
Now lightheaded and dizzy and buzzed, his body falls down on her. They both cannot move. They can only breathe; their lungs greedy for air. Her pussy ceases to weep but still, it leaks of him, even when they are still one.
After a long moment, when the aching diminishes, Ichigo breaks the silence. “Do...Don’t do that again.” He frees his penis from her and it is no longer a sword but a limp thing.
“Do what?” Her eyes are shut tight until she feels his mouth on her throat again.
“Leave me.”
Rukia looks up at him; her eyes are still shiny but the purple is darker with fatigue. “You…don’t enjoy this?” Angry, hot, passionate sex she meant.
He had enough energy to play with the tips of her swollen breasts. “I do. But I had to wait days for you to come back.”
“Patience is a good virtue to have.” She gasps-his fingers are rough on fair sensitive skin and in retaliation she slaps his hands away.
“Che.” He considers apologizing to her for his roughness…and for the bites and the pinches, but he knew he might get slapped for that too. Instead, he holds her to him in a peace offering. The human smiles at the sound of her heartbeat under his ear. “Just… don’t leave me.”
I’m sorry for being a jerk.
The crisp night cools their forms and the crescent moon spills pale light when the clouds float away. Rukia seemed to understand him when she tightens her arm’s grip.
…I’m sorry too.
Angry sex is one of the best kinds of sex.
-
The following day Orihime notices the purple-red disclolouration on Rukia’s arm. She knows that Rukia hardly ever bruises so it piques her curiosity. “Do you want me to heal that Kuchiki-san?”
Rukia’s eyes fall to where Orihime is looking. She swallows hard. Damn, she doesn’t bruise this easily. Without looking at her partner in sex crimes, she answers sweetly. “No thanks. It’ll go away soon.”
“Was it a strong hollow?”
Suddenly Ishida coughs. His Quincy senses told him there were no hollows around last night. Orihime does not pay mind to Ishida’s sudden disturbance. However, Ichigo does, and he glares at his classmate.
“I was careless. It happens sometimes.” Rukia smiles and once Orihime seemed to accept her explanation the human continues working on her project. Rukia took her chance to glower at Ichigo and soon she cannot fight the smile on her face.
His pants are getting tight already.
Oh god, how she loves this fool.
-
Author’s Note: I don’t have a preview for next week, only because I’m debating if I should make an entry to the contest at Bleach Asylum, erm time permitting. So for now, the only thing I can offer is my Avatar since I’ve been obsessed with that lately. Hm, maybe I should post the before and after…
http://ashalee18. deviantart. com/art/I-m-a-Navi-too-150198382
If you haven’t watched Avatar, I recommend it. It is visually orgasmic!
Please review!
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach. Only my pervy thoughts.
Author’s Note: This is for DarkLori. She is my cheerleader in writing, and I’m so appreciative of her friendship. Read her stories - she’s awesome! And while you’re there, beg her to continue! I want to read her lemon!!
Special thanks to F1yMordecai for edits! Special uber thanks to your wonderful reviewers! Love you guys!!
Setting: Bleach Universe
Rated: M. Unlike other smut I’ve written, there’s a lot of vulgar words. Usually I sugar coat it. Not this time. You’ve been warned. Since lemons aren’t allowed on FF.N I will take out the sex part (which is most of the chapter) in a week - so enjoy while it’s here. I will post it in my LJ of course.
I love
10. I love that they bring the best out of each other.
-
A sudden growl.
A throbbing lip.
A heated, messy kiss.
Angry sex is one of the best kinds of sex.
Blunt nails presses into his tanned skin hard. With this zeal they prick him, drawing red liquid to the surface. Those same nails skim down his strong arms as she crawls up and over his thighs, legs parted. Her mouth meets his with a need that rivals thirst and starvation; they jam, clamoring for domination of sorts. Fingers then pull orange hair when he thrusts three fingers inside of her.
His mouth silences her screams, and then she feasts like a hungry little thing. She bites, she breathes, she moans. His own crooked smile vanishes when he groans, reaching far inside of her as he possibly can, pulling back briefly and then searching again. As liquid heat flows from her, onto his fingers and hand, and down her inner thighs, the look of want and need crosses her face with such ferocious determination that he releases her.
Rukia hisses at him.
There is nothing soft about their kisses or touches. There is nothing soft about them.
“Why…” Her raspy breath makes that crooked smile reappear. She does not bother to finish her sentence - Why did you stop? Not when they played this game - take what you want, don’t ask questions.
Rukia’s violet eyes are wet and shiny, so alert of him. She does not think of what she is feeling - anger, passion, zeal - all rolled into one messy thing that she really does not want to understand. Sweat drips down her naked back as she takes three slow breaths to calm herself.
But calm does not come. Something tingly, hot and real lights at her core and she wants nothing more to feel that epic rise and glorious explosion. Her smile almost mirrors his when she flies towards him, digging into his arms to steady herself, and her pink mouth meets his with demanding kisses.
His tongue and saliva fills her and then his teeth nips at her lower lip - chewing, sucking, pulling. He shows her his teeth and they shine hotly, brilliantly, promising more bites to come. His tongue moves against hers again, clashing like two bending swords, too greedy and almost too commanding.
Only she could keep up with him. Only she could catch up with his quick movements of his fingers, touches, body, tongue, kisses, mouth… Only her.
Soon, very soon, her heart beat metastasizes up her throat as his mouth comes over her nipple, kissing, licking and sucking. She does not think what is he doing really - she could feel his tongue making circles, and then his teeth in her breasts, and she gasps, she screams. Her nipples are erect now, raw and bruised, and when he is finished, they shrivel. Almost cold.
It’s okay. She will punish him anyways.
It commences when her fingers and hand wraps around his stiff sword, as she likes to call it. In response, he sits up straight-really he has no choice. She rubs up and down, occasionally cupping his balls, massaging, petting. She smiles when she knows it’s getting harder to breathe.
Damn it.
He will not be so distracted… he will not let her win…
No, he would make her cave, and scream, and moan before him.
The mattress under them is too soft. The chocolate-brown sheets are a nuisance, tangled up and over his leg. He is too preoccupied with her attacks to do anything about it. Especially when she begins to kiss the tip of his penis and then rubs harder and harder till he stops holding her, shutting his eyes. In the moment, the heat and pleasure grows so hot that he wants to erupt and fuck her so bad and so deeply. Hazel eyes snap open and Ichigo finally manages to look at her.
In one brief moment their eyes lock. Knowing this dance too well, her hands plant themselves on his shoulders. His hands grips around her round ass, an area he appreciates very much actually. A sound like a growl and a groan floats in the air when he squeezes tightly, pulling her near him. Now, her weeping, wet core hovers over his burning sword. Their bodies ache with heat, need, and passion.
“Ruki-”
The mattress is too soft for them when she mounts him, sheathing his hard dick around her. There is no hesitation in the act. No carefulness in fucking him. Not one ounce of gentleness of becoming one. But there is twisted trust and unresolved fervor.
Almost immediately, he gasps her name, wrapping arms around her, needing to feel her solid form. Her own mouth echoes in his; her arms around his neck, needing support, needing him.
It was funny that twenty minutes ago they were fighting, an outburst of built up annoyance for each other. It all started with the usual insults.
“Your drawings suck.”
“And you’re a fool. You can’t recognize good art when you see it.”
These arguments progressed at school.
“Both of us don’t need to go.”
“I’m the real shinigami remember?”
“So what? Your Captain gave me this badge.”
The summer heat didn’t help at all.
“You told me too late!”
“Don’t blame your injuries on me! Think before you leap in battle. You have a brain for a reason, or do you not have one?!”
Day after day, the conflicts came.
“Did you finish my ice cream?”
“Who said it was your ice cream?”
“Your dad bought it for me! Not you! You could have at least told me. Now give me money so I can buy more.”
“What? No. I have no money.”
She did not look amused and left him like that, stewing for a week. It was almost forty minutes that she returned in his bedroom.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Say what?”
“You just left!”
“So, what? Are you the boss of me?”
“No, but you can’t just go like that.”
“I had shinigami duties to attend to. Did you at least buy me more ice cream?”
“Yeah, but it’s gone already. If you hadn’t left, then we wouldn’t have this problem.”
Rukia threw her hands up in frustration. Sometimes, his nonchalance and rudeness irked her.
“If you weren’t mean, then I wouldn’t have left!” Her index finger pointed at him.
His jaw fell as if she grew five heads. “If you weren’t so demanding then maybe I wouldn’t be mean!”
“I’m not demanding. I’m fair.” Something dangerous glinted in her eyes, telling him she was going to kick his ass. “Clearly I’m not wanted here.” The shinigami turned to jump out of his window but she was stopped when he grabbed her arm and pulled her back into the room.
In retaliation, Rukia pushed him hard. “Idiot.” Her violet eyes were vivid and almost wild.
He knew that look well. He knew that look well enough that five minutes later, they managed to rip the clothes off each other’s back with the summer’s moon watching.
Now she is riding him like she owns him. Her coral nipples and breasts graze over him every time she comes up and down, her jaw moving slightly as she respires. Soon she is moaning, and each moan comes with a harsh exhale. Heat is building every time she humps, her body turning aflame and aching more.
Truthfully, he enjoys watching her like this. She moves like a nymph and though her hair is disheveled and some parts are stuck to her face, she is still beautiful. More so, the feeling of her lithe, wet body against his makes Ichigo want to hold her longer and fuck her till she passes out with pleasure. Rukia looks at him once again, and her violet eyes still shine with a strange, fiery awareness. As the glistens of perspiration decorate her naked skin and her movements become more erratic, she groans his name, adding urgency with the harsh tug of his hair.
“Ich-“
That haze crosses her face. The angry precision she was capable of before is slipping away like water off a rooftop. Her breaths are quicker and beads of sweat roll from the side of her head. More liquid is building from inside of her pink cavity. Her mouth no longer can hold any smirk and only be left open - struggling to breathe, struggling to stay inside of her own skin.
Rukia is close, riding him harder and harder like he is a plastic toy. The bed moves like the shaking ground after a lightning strike. It is becoming harder and harder to see, and the pleasure is leaking and flowing and pouring.
He whispers her name.
She cries out his.
Rukia pulls orange hair again and he enjoys it. Enjoys it too much really. Is it normal to enjoy this - angry sex - so much? Isn’t love supposed to be warm, giving and kind? Or are they just twisted and broken and so incapable of communication?
Real love is warm, giving, and kind; but it is also more than that. It is messy and imperfect - accepting faults and all. It is accepting the darker layers of a person’s soul. Rukia never expected him to be a white knight. The shinigami never expected these beautiful story book ideas from him. But the biggest irony was that he could be…for her. Because no matter how crappy and broken he is, she somehow still loves him. She would always love him. And no matter how crappy and broken she could ever become - he’d do the same for her. He’d still love her.
God, how he loves this woman.
That hazy look intensifies, becoming foggier as her eyes roll back. He savours the sound of his name on her coloured lips and relishes the silky wetness of her pussy, but he knows her demanding fucks are becoming too much for her. She is almost there and Ichigo takes his chance to finish this game they play.
She tries to spread further, to be filled of him more completely, but it cannot be done alone. Her eyes look almost grateful when he maneuvers her under him, pulling a shapely leg out to stretch her, and opening her as wide as he can. His rough hands roam up her thigh to her behind, curving on her left cheek. He meets her thrusts, enjoying the euphoric waves stretching from his groin throughout his body.
But he is not done.
His right hand plants itself beside her chest as he moves in and out quickly, deeply. Rukia becomes more vocal now; her heavy pants become louder, echoing his groans. They both ache and sweat, to be filled completely, to be whole that he pushes deeper inside of her.
Ichigo squeezes her ass hard, pulling her into him as he rams into her, giving her no cushion. Faster and faster, deeper and deeper, his thrusts come hard as if he wants to break her… as if he owns her, as if she was only a plastic toy.
What other woman would tolerate this? What other woman would tolerate him for everything he was? If it didn’t show in the way he just ran into battle, his wild nature pervaded into the most secret times of night. On those few nights, this feral side came out like a beast. No human woman could take him on, survive his strength and challenge his being. And it was hard to find a person who didn’t feel like a weak thing, a helpless animal. Because preying on the weak was not fun. It was not his style.
And she was strong. He didn’t have to worry about her safety, especially not like this. Even if her body became licked in red marks, her skin inflamed by his touches, it would be okay.
“Ich-Ichi-Ich-Ichi-aahhh!”
He fucks her harder and the emerging precipice is so, so close. Ichigo feels the slight contractions of her pussy and her hesitation to give in. Soon, she finally comes, she fucking cums, and she screams his name.
“I-chi-Go!”
Her walls caves around him, her toes curl, and her fingers bore into his tough skin. As the rush of euphoria possesses her being, her body crosses the bridges of actin and myosin to contract her muscles, stiffening her form. At the same time, her head violently flies back against his pillow and her shoulders presses tightly against the mattress. A sound resembling the offspring of a scream and a moan fills the air. Like a broken juice box, her female ejaculation spills from her tired legs and she is blind and mute, and weightless and careless.
In euphoria.
Ichigo follows her. As her hips remain in the air with him, the climax sends a fierce release and shaking pleasure throughout his body. His penis erupts his semen, filling her more completely than ever before. The human knew he said her name though he cannot gauge if it was a moan, or groan, or scream or a combination of it all. The immense relief and happiness of just pleasing her consumes him, and with his own rocking pleasure, he shakes again and again, content and ecstatic. He too is completely wet, free and lifted that soon Ichigo feels himself smiling, despite the whole week of scowling.
Now lightheaded and dizzy and buzzed, his body falls down on her. They both cannot move. They can only breathe; their lungs greedy for air. Her pussy ceases to weep but still, it leaks of him, even when they are still one.
After a long moment, when the aching diminishes, Ichigo breaks the silence. “Do...Don’t do that again.” He frees his penis from her and it is no longer a sword but a limp thing.
“Do what?” Her eyes are shut tight until she feels his mouth on her throat again.
“Leave me.”
Rukia looks up at him; her eyes are still shiny but the purple is darker with fatigue. “You…don’t enjoy this?” Angry, hot, passionate sex she meant.
He had enough energy to play with the tips of her swollen breasts. “I do. But I had to wait days for you to come back.”
“Patience is a good virtue to have.” She gasps-his fingers are rough on fair sensitive skin and in retaliation she slaps his hands away.
“Che.” He considers apologizing to her for his roughness…and for the bites and the pinches, but he knew he might get slapped for that too. Instead, he holds her to him in a peace offering. The human smiles at the sound of her heartbeat under his ear. “Just… don’t leave me.”
I’m sorry for being a jerk.
The crisp night cools their forms and the crescent moon spills pale light when the clouds float away. Rukia seemed to understand him when she tightens her arm’s grip.
…I’m sorry too.
Angry sex is one of the best kinds of sex.
-
The following day Orihime notices the purple-red disclolouration on Rukia’s arm. She knows that Rukia hardly ever bruises so it piques her curiosity. “Do you want me to heal that Kuchiki-san?”
Rukia’s eyes fall to where Orihime is looking. She swallows hard. Damn, she doesn’t bruise this easily. Without looking at her partner in sex crimes, she answers sweetly. “No thanks. It’ll go away soon.”
“Was it a strong hollow?”
Suddenly Ishida coughs. His Quincy senses told him there were no hollows around last night. Orihime does not pay mind to Ishida’s sudden disturbance. However, Ichigo does, and he glares at his classmate.
“I was careless. It happens sometimes.” Rukia smiles and once Orihime seemed to accept her explanation the human continues working on her project. Rukia took her chance to glower at Ichigo and soon she cannot fight the smile on her face.
His pants are getting tight already.
Oh god, how she loves this fool.
-
Author’s Note: I don’t have a preview for next week, only because I’m debating if I should make an entry to the contest at Bleach Asylum, erm time permitting. So for now, the only thing I can offer is my Avatar since I’ve been obsessed with that lately. Hm, maybe I should post the before and after…
http://ashalee18. deviantart. com/art/I-m-a-Navi-too-150198382
If you haven’t watched Avatar, I recommend it. It is visually orgasmic!
Please review!