It's been forever! I've been practicing with other stories and put what I learned in this chapter.

Just a heads up for any would be pearl clutchers, they're not on dear Momma Higurashi's couch this time.

OoOoOoOoO

Kagome looked away from her bedroom window.

Lately, Sesshomaru made a habit out of going off on his own. It gave them time away from each other, and it was in his nature to roam. However, as understanding as she was, she was starting to feel anxious. It was freezing out and he had left wearing a long sleeve cotton shirt and his match-making fur.

Nothing unusual in the news.

Guess he's okay… wherever he is.

She opened her laptop.

In the demon world, when two compatible souls meet, the universe has a way of making it known. For dog demons it's a simple gesture. When Sesshomaru spoke of his fur, he explained that it was not a phenomenon that happened often, nor did it have to be bided by. One can live without their soulmate despite having met them, it's just difficult to live well with the knowledge.

She knew love had nothing to do with his birth. His father reserved that for Inuyasha's mother. Yet Sesshomaru's explanation had been as crisp as his face and posture. At first, Kagome was strangely happy to hear it, giddy even—notwithstanding their relatively short time together. "Intended to be mates" did not sound like a suggestion. She believed it, though, privately, the timeline made her nervous, if not cautious.

In a little over a month, she went from loathing him to wanting him beside her at night. Heavy feelings were budding. It's what developed after infatuation, after all. But it couldn't possibly be anything more. Not yet. How could love develop from lust already, what with her being smack dab in the middle of like and… super like? Just because fate alleged that they were ideal together didn't mean like would quickly accelerate into love.

How would that even work? she wondered.

Sesshomaru was so long-lived, and Kagome had six, maybe eight more decades, tops.

And what did love have anything to do with it anyway? From her travels in the feudal era, a human loving a demon seemed complicated. Tragic too. One can have affection for someone,—a demon—be the ying to their yang and not have the marry them.

Now that was worth considering.

She once read that demons make claim to their mates by biting into their necks, branding some kind of mark onto the skin.

She shifted in her chair and touched her neck. Sesshomaru had bitten her quite hard that night on her mother's couch. He left an imprint of his fangs that had bruised where the bite was deepest. Souta had noticed. And when he mentioned it, she slapped her hand over it and wore turtlenecks for a few days.

Maybe it was lore, mating marks. Maybe it wasn't. Perhaps with demons, nothing expressed love more than two ivory shafts driving into delicate flesh. Or hunger. Whichever.

I bet it's lore.

She was getting sidetracked, and there were more pressing thoughts. Like Sesshomaru having a distinct dislike of sharing his feelings. He acted like tender sentiments were of no consequence, as if he had no depth worth exploring, no great mystery. Sesshomaru revealed slivers of himself when Kagome wanted a proper slice. She could pinpoint the exact moment his wall went up. And it was a sturdy wall, a wall which he was fiercely jealous of. It prevented anyone from getting in or out. She wanted in. If he opened up and let her take a look around she'd be careful not to knock anything over.

She felt a sudden jet of guilt. She promised Inuyasha that once upon a time. He let her in and she trashed the place.

Forcing out the thought as quickly as it came, Kagome began to type.

Her foot fidgeted.

She just couldn't let it be.

Because Sesshomaru wasn't exactly thrilled when he told about being mates. It steeled him, but considering he didn't emote much in general, it could've just been his face.

Yet he was so far away in his mind that he had hardly reacted when she told him what happened in the shrine house when they first arrived.

She sighed, bothered that she was so bothered. It was too early to feel this way. Their relationship—if she could call it that—hadn't even earned a title yet. "Dating," some would call it. "Messing around," her girlfriends had said.

An "arrangement" he says. What the hell is that?

Kagome shuddered suddenly.

Inuyasha could rap on her windowpane any day now. And she expected nothing less than a fight if he was to see Sesshomaru on the other side of the glass.

But one crisis at a time.

Something had to be done about the enchanted well. She did not care about her upcoming birthday in a few days. Turning nineteen wasn't a big deal. Kagome was mindful of her spring semester however, and knew there was no way in hell she'd be able to concentrate with Sesshomaru around.

Not that she wanted him to leave. Quite the opposite. But he grew more restless by the day. One night, she had even caught him pacing stiffly back and forth in front of the shrine. It was a little unnerving.

She found something online.

The funny thing about living in modern Japan was that the solution to the well may be found in unlikely places. Like in books pertaining to historical myths. This book was so old that it wasn't available for check out. Fortunately, the library was only a few train rides away.

Kagome was typing the address into her phone when she felt a familiar aura. She turned to see Sesshomaru hanging outside her window in a way that if he were human he would have fallen. She got up wanting to ask a million questions but decided on one. "Where did you go?"

"No place worth telling." A particularly cold breeze lifted his hair, simultaneously cutting through Kagome's thin pajamas. Shivering, she waited for him to say something. "There is nothing to tell."

"You can't be serious."

"Quite serious," he said, and with a huff, she grabbed his collar and helped him in a little rougher than she had intended.

"Don't look at me like that. You were gone for nearly two days!"

"Yes, I have a habit of disappearing from time to time."

Kagome softened her voice. "If this is about us being… you know, I don't think it will change anything."

He glanced up from her chest. No bra. But her stupidity offended.

"The problem with that is you not thinking like a demon."

"Well," she quickly returned, though his dry tone made her feel like she was missing something. "Wouldn't that mean the problem is you not telling me what a demon thinks?"

Amazing how someone so smart could sound so dumb.

One corner of his mouth went down. He pulled his fur from his shoulder and spread it over her bed. "I wish to bathe," he said simply.

That was strange.

Kagome shut her mouth. She realized with a shock how easy it was to think that he was upset with her. He wasn't being dismissive to irk her. He just didn't want to argue. Perhaps for a tender reason.

He brushed by and she caught his arm. "What I meant to say is… I've missed you."

"I know." There was a considerable pause. "I've missed you too."

OoOoOoOoO

Kagome shut her bedroom door and climbed into bed. He was right. She wasn't thinking like a demon. But for the life of her she couldn't figure it out. She'd hate for it to be something glaringly obvious, sailing over her head because instead she thought like a self-centered idiot. For sure, bullying it out of him was not the correct approach. The stubborn dog would give her nothing that way.

Kagome turned off the lamp.

It was late, after midnight. She lay in the dark waiting for Sesshomaru, but he had soaked in the bath for close to an hour and she was sleepy.

She curled his soft fur around her. Her eyes came down slowly. They opened when she heard the scrape of her door on the carpet.

Sesshomaru stood in the doorway, his hair damp and clumped together. He stared for a moment, then shut the door and crossed the room without saying a word. The silvery light coming in from the window helped her eyes see him better. It made a pale line down his face and throat. Kagome hadn't gotten over the novelty of seeing him in modern clothing yet. His calm arrogance added an extra something to the fleece and cotton he wore.

What she didn't know was that he had swept the house before stepping into her room. Everyone, the old one, even the boy, slept. He locked Buyo in her father's study—who was all too pleased to jump on the futon.

Wide awake now, Kagome watched as he moved toward her bed. But he didn't crawl under the sheets with her. Gracefully, he lowered onto the floor, his back against the mattress, one leg bent at the knee, the other stretched across the carpet. Dignified as he was, to her it seemed like pouting.

"Sleep with me," she whispered.

"I'm not tired."

"Oh." That was all she said at first. "You know what I wish?" She caressed his hair, and he leaned into her hand, exposing his pale throat to her as he focused on an imperfection on the ceiling. "I wish you would let me comfort you."

"So comfort me."

"I will then."

Kagome threw the covers off and froze.

She drew back involuntarily. A low something, not quite a growl, had come from him. It had sounded like he struggled to keep it in his throat.

He glanced over his shoulder, and there was so much agony in his yellow leer that it instantly became her own. It heated her blood, skimmed over the tightening nerves between her legs, and when he turned away her hand flew to her chest. She knew what would happen if she were to climb down there with him.

The bedframe creaked, and as she slinked down she heard him choke back a quiet breath. Her shirt caught on the bed's edge, briefly revealing her navel. Their thighs touched. He smelled like he bathed in her body wash, used her shampoo.

Sesshomaru's claws gradually eased into his leg. Kagome should be on her back that instant, but he sensed that she was a little nervous, drawing courage from lust alone. He had decided to be tactful, let her come if she was so bold.

Well, having waited long enough, he pulled her into his lap, her back to his chest. Wrapping his arms around her, he tipped her head and gently forced his tongue between her lips.

Kagome broke the kiss. "I wanted to tell you," she said, her breath soft and fast. "But you weren't here."

His hands slid up her rib cage, his fingers teasing the underside of her breasts. "Tell me what."

"My period's over."

"So hopelessly human," he drawled. Kagome wanted so badly to see his face when he said this. He gripped her thighs and positioned her, crushing her ass directly onto his ache. "Like that matters to youkai. Some blood would have only served to spread my ecstasy around."

Her breath shuddered in and out as he weighed her breasts in his palms. Just then she had started to think like a demon, was unsettled and curious feeling his lips and fangs graze the back of her neck, his tongue laving up to her nape line.

"And about the well..."

"Later." He buried his face into her hair and put one hand between her legs, sealing her firmly with his palm. He clung to her, moving in deep, slow circles. The other was at her throat. Gently, he held her pulse, and she ground her hips into him, into his hand. Her helpless, sighing moans aggravated him further, and he pressed her arching torso back to his chest.

"Is… is this why you left? Because you wanted..."

Kagome felt herself being yanked.

He turned and seated her so that she faced him. His eyes, usually coldly beautiful, smoldered, and it left a heady impression on her.

Claws pricked at her waist, the exposed arc of her hips. "That's not the only reason," he said. "But I refuse to beg for it." Yet that was all she could hear and see. His voice had dropped to a despairing whisper, and his face, undemonstrative as it normally was, was terribly strained. And when he dropped his forehead to her collarbone, it seemed he'd shrug out of his dignity at any moment.

Kagome, sympathetic yet darkly thrilled, wasn't sure if she wanted to see that. He might hate her for it, proud as he was. "You wouldn't have to beg." She squeezed her legs around him, and he rocked against her.

If she thought to please him with only her mouth tonight Sesshomaru would take it but would be severely disappointed. As much as he loved nudging the back of her throat, and how she took him in and stroked with her tongue and lips, it wasn't enough. That was a snack to a full course meal, a measure above taking his own pleasure. At this point, he didn't care if it were fast or slow, tender or rough. However she wanted it would suit him. Just let it happen, was his thought process.

Kagome was breathless. It seemed his white hair was everywhere in her eyes. Surrounded by it, she grabbed handfuls of it and kissed him deeply, savoring the taste, her body rolling in a slow wind of breasts to hips. A sharp intake of air tapered into a growl, and Sesshomaru reciprocated just as slow and deliberate but with more enthusiasm in his movements. The fluttery quiver spreading throughout her body made her moan into his mouth, and she crushed harder onto his erection, sucked on his tongue.

One hand dragged down beneath the swell of her backside, then up again, slipping under the elastic band of her pajamas, the other weighing on her back and holding her close. He wanted to feel her strain and twist against him. She gasped as he skimmed over slippery flesh, the brush mostly knuckles and fingertips, with the merest nuance of claws. Breathing hotly in her ear, he pinched her pubic lips together, the right side and the left. Then he massaged her adoringly, stroked her with his fingers, caressed her, pat her; spread her own wetness over her clit.

Moaning softly, Kagome felt her behind shaped by firm hands; lifted, wiggled, separated, and smacked. She yelped when he hit her, though it wasn't much of a slap. But it was enough to leave a red mark on her. He smoothed his hand over the welt, then smacked her again. It stung, but she knew that wasn't his aim—she hoped not glimpsing smiling fang teeth. It was his mounting passion, and because he got all worked up about it, she let it happen once more.

With a lingering, sweeping caress, he collected her ambrosia on his fingers. Kagome saw them disappear into his mouth.

"I love this too, " he said.

Her heart could burst. And she was well aware of his greedy mouth. He tasted because he couldn't help it. She remembered perfectly the first time when he buried his face between her legs, smeared his cheeks, inhaled her aroma. His lips glistening with her wetness was the raunchiest thing she'd ever seen. Sesshomaru was dangerous in that regard. He gave as much for his delight as hers.

"Can we… on the bed?"

He kissed her, and she tasted herself. "It will creak," he rasped.

And then his shirt was going over his head, hers as well. He helped her out of her pajamas and panties, and suddenly she realized that she was only one entirely naked. But she ached to touch him, to feel his pale, silken skin, his muscled chest. Her hands were everywhere, in his hair, down the planes of his face, sliding hungrily over his flat stomach, squeezing his thighs.

He pinched and pulled her nipples, let go, pulled again, and after he had kissed them fervidly, he took one in his mouth. She flinched feeling the nip of fangs, and when he finished with the other breast, she descended upon his neck with loud kisses, pulling him nearer to press his sweltering body to hers. She relished in the closeness of him, had even closed her eyes, so she didn't see the movement he made with his claws and teeth. She felt him shift underneath her, then she felt his fingers inside of her, moving in an upward motion that made her arch with pleasure.

She groaned as he withdrew from her. "Oh," she sighed in a pointed ear, gripping his hair tightly in her hands while his own breathing became more pronounced.

He was torturing her, intending to work her into a trembling, sopping mess. He stroked her swollen lips, spread her open, massaged her throbbing clit, all of which he did for just a few moments before plunging back inside. It made a sticky little sound that had him murmuring all sorts of things in some hot, filthy language. In a rough and cracked voice, he told her how much he loved her cunt as if prizing it above everything in the world. It was senseless, heated talk that gave Kagome mixed feelings at first, but it went quickly to her blood and she writhed all the same.

She put up a stiff struggle, blushed and gasped and tried to close her legs together at the knees. She gave a soft cry. The misery between her legs turned into something closer to pain. He wasn't trying to satisfy her at all. He was trying to incite. Thus his curling fingers became her sweetest despair, exciting her more and more.

Sesshomaru swallowed hard. He took pleasure in her angry frustration, even stopping to hold his hand an inch from her feminine heat just to watch her struggle after it. She was begging him, but instead he nipped her shoulder and scraped his claws up her back, leaving clear traces of her essence on her skin.

"Here," he said hotly, taking her wrist, "put your hand on this."

She touched him, and then she was fighting with the drawstring, pulling until she saw his thick erection and the lush white fur which surrounded the base. Nothing she hadn't seen before, but she reared back for a moment to appreciate it; his naked body too and the stripes that trailed down an exquisitely muscled abdomen.

She wrapped her hand around it and bent forward.

"Wait," he gasped.

Kagome flipped her hair from her face and gazed up from his groin. "Don't you want me to?"

Sesshomaru struggled with the cruel question.

"... it makes me weak." Unable to maintain his filter, he blurt out the first thing that popped into his head. But the way he said it, and coupled with his vulnerable expression, made her want to stuff him inside her mouth even more. "I'd rather fuck you," he said. Kagome ran her tongue over the tip anyway, taking her own pleasure in feeling it twitch in her mouth, in seeing his stomach draw in, his fangs sliding down from under his lip. She sat up and, with her hand, tormented him with a slow, winding motion.

She stroked him confidently, and Sesshomaru was mesmerized. It didn't matter if it wasn't exactly how he liked it. Her grip was exquisite, and her undisguised desire and eagerness to please really steamed him up. His arms dropped to the floor. Unsure what to focus on, he switched between her hand, breasts, and face, grunting softly as she twisted around him with an intimate slowness.

The scent of her pervaded the room. It filled his senses, and he could still taste her at the back of his throat. He couldn't control himself, and he snatched her up fast and kissed her more forcefully than before.

Kagome straddled him, her weight pinning his erection to his groin. She hesitated when he began to rise at the hips, his shaft sliding in between her slit and stimulating overexcited nerves. But then she was grinding on his lap, wondering if she could take him. She thought so. She was soaking wet, and the wet coated him too. Claws flexed on her hips, and she glanced from his tortured lap. From the pressure of his claws alone, she could feel the intensity of his torment and strength. This was her final warning.

Sesshomaru was trying so hard. He looked desperate to be inside of her.

But she wanted him on her own terms.

Kagome rose a bit, and in the humid space between them, and though he hadn't moved his hips, she felt an imploring bump against her entrance, and another. His stomach drew sharply each time he did this, emphasizing lines and ridges with every prod. Her heart thundered. He couldn't close his mouth. Their chests swelled in rapid breaths. She gripped his shaft and asked: "Promise you won't hurt me?"

Mercy, he thought.

He bit back a choked sound of frustration, threw his head back to the edge of the bed. It was like she intended to keep him in torment. "I'll promise anything," he said fast, "just sit."

And it was the longest few seconds. He was glaring at Kagome and wanting her.

She stared into his face, into his eyes which seemed more teal than gold. Red edged them. "You promised," she muttered, but as she held onto his shoulder, she may as well be talking to herself.

Sesshomaru didn't know what he promised, nor did he care. He thought that letting her take over was a horrible idea, cursed himself for forfeiting control until she positioned herself and, slowly, eased herself down onto his cock.

He could hardly believe the velvety heat of her.

"Tight, tight," she heard him groan, as if a chant, his voice so deep and drawn out that it sounded like he was in pain. She gasped, and as she gasped she saw his chest heave, felt his legs tense, then she saw his eyes close. She was seated entirely, and it didn't hurt that bad, which was a surprise considering his girth. She did, however, feel an incredible sensation of pressure against a mysterious place deep inside her. And when he started to move his hips, his thick width stretching her mercilessly, they shared a moan together.

The weight of his arm was on her back. He was reaching to feel himself throb between his fingers as he stretched her. She was like a vice grip, and some weak noise was in his throat. His claws were at her waist, lifting her to see her sex pulling tightly along his. He focused on that for a while and that didn't seem right to Kagome.

"Look at me," she demanded. Unbeknownst to her, it was one of those inexplicable male things—watching themselves fuck. "Please."

With a groan, he did, and the passion she had for him in her eyes made him stop. As she continued to rotate her hips, she held his grimacing face, her thumbs smoothing at the corners of his mouth. Never in his life had he been threatened with such raw intimacy. He felt strangely anxious, which only added to his current lack of pretense. He would be lying if he said he imagined that he'd enjoy taking her this way; her moaning on top, himself groaning on the bottom. But he knew that he must indulge the human condition to have Kagome, and that she only liked the nuance of peril.

Now he understood fully why she said: "Not like this" the first time he tried to have her.

But would she indulge in his nature? He hoped as she shivered around him, pressed her lips to his jaw. He wouldn't lose any respect or affection for her if she got on all fours and let him arch her back till it cracks. If she let him rub raw the skin on her knees, draw a little blood, he'd adore her more for it. He might even tell her the real reason why he's been wandering off into Tokyo lately.

"I want to feel your lips on me," she said.

He kissed her, then pressed her aching breasts to his chest.

The problem with that is it sounded exactly like: ' Have me and I'll give you what you want.' That didn't bode well with demoness either. Sesshomaru didn't have the finesse to so easily explain that.

When I'm at that bridge…

For then, he'd fuck her lovingly.

Sesshomaru found her clit and she moaned. He stroked with his fingers while he stroked inside, and she clenched, relaxed, and clenched, the two raptures mingling and spiraling into one mind-melting sensation. "More," Kagome begged him. "Please… I just want..." She shoved her neck against his open mouth, urging him to bite. She felt him tense, his breath gusting warm and damp on her skin. He bit her hard enough to draw blood, and they swooned, swaying together, his teeth clenching her still, their bodies slick with sweat, their hips grinding perfectly as if riding the same preorgasmic wave, until she could no longer take the searing hot pain of those biting fangs of his.

That did him in.

With the taste of her blood on his tongue, he held her, his hands sinking into yielding flesh as he lifted her, and she let out a broken shriek—tried to smother it—as he drove her down onto his lap. Kagome tossed her head, her hair falling against her back, sticking to it, and when he dropped her down just as hard she tossed her head again.

"Yes," he whispered, his breaths coming in growls and pants. "Keep making that face. I love it."

Kagome dared to look at his, saw that it was flushed, the bold red of his eyes. She loved the groans falling from blood-stained lips and the fall of silver which streamed down to the floor. There was that weird feeling again. Every time he said "love" made her flutter. She very well knew the context, but it didn't matter so long as it was related to her in some way. She would take what she could get.

She took in more of him when he snatched her legs around his waist. He was a relentless, hard thing driving into her, and she was arching and gasping and digging into his shoulders. She was close, and Sesshomaru knew, could feel her clenching around him, her every flutter. He kept pace. Not harder, not faster. He fucked her just like that, rising to meet her as he thrust her downward.

If only Kagome didn't clamp so tightly. She was too much, and he wouldn't last.

He unseated her with a lurch and held her suspended over him. Then he fixed her hot, aching sex to his navel.

Kagome nearly cried. She was suddenly so empty. That was cruel of him.

"No, please…" She strained for it, her swollen sex lined with his, and he quickly gathered her hair in his fist, yanking back her head to stop her.

Weak and gasping, he jerked her face to his. "I need a moment." With her lips, Kagome went for his mouth, needing contact, any contact at all. "Damn," he growled.

And moments later, she felt him move, the rough carpet scratching her back, a substantial weight between her thighs, his tongue laving the blood on her neck, and in the same movement, Sesshomaru sinking deep inside until his stomach lay flush against hers. She could see under her bed, see the stashed bottle of liquor from New Year's. He came upon his elbows and proceeded to fuck her, and she arched so rigidly that she lifted his hips with hers. She reached for him and clenched her legs together. His thrusts were hard under her hands, abandoned and exquisitely jarring.

He abruptly smothered the low, guttural sound that started to rise up out of her throat. Claws twitched at her jawline. She couldn't breathe but didn't care about air. She felt airy and detached, as if stretching out in all directions. Yet pressure mounted. She shuddered, and it seemed suddenly she had to pee. Only that wasn't what trickled down the swell of her and onto the carpet. She heard him swearing between thrusts, the wet sound of skin against skin. He was thrusting in that quick, animal way, and Kagome was coiling tighter and tighter until she rose at the hips and felt herself shattering.

Sesshomaru fucked her through her orgasm. She gasped and sobbed through it, though it was muffled under his hand. A noise like that would have awakened the entire house. He hoped to take her in his chambers someday. Then Kagome could scream as loud as wanted. His eyes were watery. She was snatching his hair with quite a force. But the pain didn't bother him. It made it better for him, that and the ruthless pull of her quivering around him. He drove harder into her, nearing his brink.

Kagome thought she might snap. Yet despite this, she understood that quiet would have to be a collaborative effort. Her hand flew to his mouth too, and as he came he shuddered and choked behind it. He continued to pump into her, though his movements were weak and uncontrolled.

Above her, Sesshomaru bent forward like a beaten dog, barely keeping the full weight of himself from her as he moved to the side, still throbbing inside. They panted for air, the rasping breaths vacillating between them as they lay on the floor. Her heart pounded against his for a while, then he pulled out of her.

The first thing he noticed was that her neck still bled.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"It's nothing." She hissed as he ran his tongue over it. "Just not so hard next time."

He sat on the back of his knees, his heart thundering still. "I can't promise—" Sesshomaru shut up and she laughed. He did promise. "That's not fair. You encouraged it. Was it that painful?"

"A little," she said, sitting upright. "I kind of liked it so I don't know."

He glanced from what seeped between her legs. His and hers, but mostly his. "Make sense," he said.

"I will not."

A/N: This is the first time Kagome and Sesshomaru actually had sex in any of my stories. Anyway, the next chapter will be particularly emotional. Not to mention we have to check up on the dogs, so I'll have to take my time with it. Thanks for reading!