Author's Note: I'm starting to believe I have something for these awkward pairings. But then again you guys can thank Kenny-Chan 674 for ringing this out of me and for my sweet, adorable Nikki23456 because she wants a yummy lemon. Check this out and enjoy the smut lol.

Passionate Savagery

I can no longer think of anything but you. In spite of myself, my imagination carries me to you. I grasp you, I kiss you, I caress you, and a thousand of the most amorous caresses take possession of me. ~Honore de Balzac, letter to Evelina Hanska, June 1836

There came a time when the need for taste became overwhelmingly demanding and the need for animalistic sating was exchanged for something of less sanity. A need for touch like no other would become deviously desired and the pressure for wanton delight would lead him toward the only solution laid high in walls of iced stone and chilled viciousness.

It was always this way; nothing changes. Years, perhaps centuries of heightened anxiety and inner thrill would always be his reason for returning. But there was always something more to make him come back. He would always come back. If . . . simply for this.

Chaste hues of deepened indigo and caressing wisps of gray swiftly shifted above through the opening of a jag stoned window, acting as his only view to the outside; to one the one thing seeing him commit this devilish sin of pleasure. The stars, all a winking shame merely dimmed and shimmered down as their queen, roundly cleansed and pure of any shadows, bestowed her glorified glow upon her children.

And simply gazing up into the skies stainless virtue seemed to taunt him mercilessly. He was here, and they were there, carefree to fly away, while he was trapped because of his own calloused wants.

The winds of deserted life dryly wavered in carrying the scent of coming rain and mixing with the haunting smells of disdained salts and sweated musk. Such a sweet and damning odor it was, perfumed between their bodies.

The dampened sheets were tangled in a woven mess around legs and waists; hair was scattered in treaded disarray, blending from rich crimson to thick locks of neutral silver.

"You like this don't you," He heard him hiss through his clenching fangs. "You come back for this . . ." Voice as deep and purred like laced iron, weighed down in his ear like a metallic lullaby; sultry and ragged smoothly.

He wanted to speak, to give credence to the claim; to shout aloud why he always would return to be grasped tight in this muscular embrace. But to utter out the truth would be as disgraceful as this was. And so he allowed his soundless gasps be the unspoken answer, for not even he could say why it was he always returned.

Kurama felt everything. The way this creature fucked him like his nature; wild, untamed and full of passionate desires to cause him pain. Like the end of a blunt edged sword, he felt Raizen's need dive in him without a moment's stillness. He was hot, and knew the scrapes of fangs would leave trails of red along his tender flesh; sweat acted as a sticky reminder of how close they were in this moment. Thick and pressed firmly to his chest, he wasn't spared the slightest space between him and his sinner. And he didn't want it. Both his arms kept them locked, both his thighs were clamped tight around that taunt waist to keep the pace fast.

Glossy pleasure shun deep and vivid in his sage eyes not painted over with emerald shine for the slanted gold. The skin comparison was a delicious contrast of ivory cream and sun kissed flesh. Nothing was left untouched, left unsavored.

Raizen's taste. It was mixture of so many things, but above all else he held that one flavor no other could possess; his heated blend of youki and the sun's afternoon flare. Kurama was drawn to lap its seasoned saturation, over and over again, wishing to bite in and drank the incredible flow of nectar just out of reach.

A large tongue licked over the coils of muscle connecting his life to the rest of his body, like spread of rouge prickles. Teeth nipped and sampled what little of his blood was spilled from the broken skin. That one dribble surged a higher demand, and Kurama suddenly found himself in a position unwanted by all demons.

Raizen snarled, eyes bleeding red as he quickly flipped his cohort's body over his stomach.

"N-No," Instinct took over. Kurama's felt his youki begging for release to counter this assault and before he knew it, the clumps of soft cerise became a lengthened spread of sterling, claws erected and his muscles tightened to prepare for the possible battle.

"You should know better," he heard him whisper beastly in his pointed ear and hadn't the time to react before a fist balled in his hair, snapping his head back. A large hand hooked underneath his thigh, lifting it and Kurama felt the rub of that wet muscle's milky substance coating him before shoving back in as before. "You can't handle me Boy? Afraid of being outdone?"

The Youko was the one to answer, "You haven't a chance of concurring me, King," he taunted in return. The teasing pluck of his tongue, slipping out to coat his lip served its purpose to ring out a snarl from the other.

"We'll see about that."

When his head would've been slammed face first into the wet mattress, Yoko braced his arms to keep leveled view of the moons outside glow. That would be his beacon to keep from fully submitting as this creature's bitch.

But Raizen was relentless. He would not allow this, and shoved his entire weight down; connecting his heaviness on Kurama's back, flattening them both against the mattress, as he continued to pound at an inhuman pace.

"Arg!" The fox cried, and bit down on his wrist to silence any further howls as agonized pleasure rattled his body. Repeatedly his body jerked to counter the predicted pain, shoving back just as harshly to give his King the same damage. He tightened and flexed his muscled ringlets, devouring the monstrous dick in his body.

"Oh no, this will not do," The fingers ensnared in silver hair suddenly snaked around to rip the fleshy gag and cuffed both wrists behind Yoko's back.

Kurama turned wild eyes through the massive veil of knotted silver to glare maliciously at the one who only chuckled, momentarily coming to a torturous slowness. Growls were matched with verbalized demands, "Damned beast, unhand me!"

Raizen gradually slowed more, until the thrusts were barely mobile. The widened astonishment was a sight to behold from the youthful fox demon who only snarled angrily. His chin jerked away when that face came close to his and he felt that vulpine tongue sample his neck and jaw. "Beg me for it." The demon lord's tone hung violently. "Demand it." The pace grew stretched and prolonged, as short thrusts became longer.

Flexing his fingers open and close as a way to wiggle free, it was all Kurama could do not to succumb to the boiling fire hissing such sinful words in his ear.

"You want this, don't deny it. You want this," one slow trust, "just as bad as I," a slower thrust. "Now beg me."

"Mmm," Evidence of refusal bled an evil line from the corner of Yoko's lip as he bit his tongue to keep silent. But Gods help him, this was cruelty. He would not ask for nothing, he never has nor would he ever; not even for the sake of this . . .

A deep chuckle. Raizen used his free hand to reach between them to grasp the slacked tail a gentle stroke and watched with an acknowledged, smirk as Yoko's eyes sealed tight against the added sensation. "Beg. Me." Each word punctuated with a strong caress of the electric static holding the furs on end. Laced sparks of many quakes slithered from his spine to tips of Kurama's toes as he clamped down harder to hold back the moan threatening to spill as something less than manly.

"Tell me why you always come back," Raizen's lips found another task in chewing over one of the erect ears, whispering more soothing demands.

Slow, leisure pounds, the gentle strokes of his only imprinted aphrodisiac and to have his ear used in such a devastating—Yoko released his tongue on a ragged sigh, shakily on the edge of defeat.

"Tell me why Yoko," Raizen hissed his name as a melodic tune, hummed sexily in his ear, followed by that thick tongue's lap. "Say why you always come back for this."

Yoko exhaled a long shuddering breath. This was something Raizen knew got him on the brink. The taunts, the teasing, provocation; all it would forever be a secured method for weakening this boy's resolve.

"Say it Yoko."

"Shit," Yoko clenched his jaw and licked over the dried cracks of his lips. "For this . . ." It was so small, fragile.

Hardly the audible confession Raizen wanted. The pace gradually, picked up speed, "Say it again."

Yoko's entire body craved and begged for more, "For this," he mumbled slightly louder, feeling his toes curl.

Raizen chuckled deadly, the sound, low and daunting as the hand that cuffed Yoko's wrists tightened and the other curled around his tail. "Louder."

Yoko swallowed, mouth dried of any moisture, "For this . . . Raizen," He breathed. Raizen tensed, nearly losing his rhythm. "Raizen, it was for this . . ."

And that was the key to freeing his despicable misery. His hands were pulled from behind and nailed before him by tattooed fingers as the pressured weight suddenly lifted—Yoko closed his eyes and relished in the rewarded passion returning in full effect.

Raizen's reprieve was his gifted return of lavished praises of his dick ramming with full force into the heated vise. Yes it was for this. Yoko panted. It was for this. He would gladly return for this and only this. It was his drugged humiliation; an addiction he couldn't break.

And as he lifted his eyes to stare at the moon's spotlighted gleam, he knew he would never want too. His eyes squeezed as he felt the signal becoming stronger that his end was near. His body tensed, his hips buckled as Raizen's aim evilly slammed something inside that finally unlocked his howling passion to the skies.

It was moments before the flood of hot, liquid smeared within; a thick cream flowering like a compact fire. The loud grunt of completion pulsed against the back of his head, before the massive heaviness returned against his back; all the while his eyes stayed with the luminous sphere as she slowly pulled her cloak of gray over until not a speck of her shine was cast.

The limp muscle stayed where it was finishing off its final release as Yoko involuntarily milked what was left.

Aftershocks were settling in, bringing with it the reality of what was now current. The Youko's body no longer claimed possession of its higher form, now back to its smaller frame, hair a raptured spill of red and eyes a cooler, calm sage. Hot exhales fanned over his skin like morning dew, as a shift fully gave him freedom to ease his face over to see the angled chiseled chin in view.

Raizen's eyes were closed a falsified proof of sleep . . .

Kurama took that as his warning to be gone and carefully unbraided the sheets wrappings from his legs and eased toward the edge of the bed.

. . . But a large arm snaked out and roughly pulled him against the wall of solid power. Kurama stiffened at the feel of nuzzling against his temple before fingers bruised his waist, "Stay." Was the one worded command. The hand lessened its rub and caressed every exposed flesh until coming to cradle the back of his lover's head, tugging back to force his eyes to his.

Dark saffron came through the red, clearly relying something never to be said aloud. Kurama closes his eyes, unsure to know what he was feeling. There was something vibrate under where his palm landed; a throb thumbing. An unsteady bob, versus the calm, relaxed body; the very thing not even Raizen could control.

His heartbeat. There was a sudden fascination to hear its staccato drum.

Kurama lead his ear to suction over the thrumming flesh. He couldn't make sense of its erratic pulse; so different from the outer wall of silent collection. But a slow realization became a sparkled smile on his face as he sighed and nodded against the budging chest, "I'll stay." He whispered, allowing the rhythmic song of unspoken desires to lure him in a sated slumber.

Perhaps this was why he would always return. This sin of unholy chains would never be detached.

It was something different.

A passionate savagery, no one would ever understand.

TBC: I loved this lol! Lemons make the world go round!