A/N: Hello! So this is the very last chapter of the story. I hope you find it a fitting, satisfactory end to the trials and travails our hero and heroine have overcome. Since you've all been so patient, please enjoy the copious amount of lemon in it. Thanks, as always, to Technoelfie for her unwavering support and enthusiasm as I dragged myself over the finish line.

This is likely to be my last fanfiction, because I'm going to make my best effort at writing original work (as is Technoelfie- I've been fortunate to read a rough draft of her book and it's super good, you guys!). My book will be a paranormal romance, set in a mystical place between Heaven and Hell, with angels and vampires and weres and witches and elves and demons. And sex. Not loads of sex, but like Become a Ghost, there'll be episodes of snogging and at least two humdingers of a sex scene.

When it's ready and able to be purchased, I'll update with another Orihime/Byakuya story (and the book's title, my pen name, etc.) to let you all know. So if you would like to follow me as I shift from fandom to my own work, please put me on author alert!

Two songs I thought would be particularly suitable for our pair this chapter are as follows. Please check them out, I think you'll agree!

Orihime's theme song: Feels Like Home, Chantal Kreviazuk

Byakuya's theme song: In This Life, Israel Kamakawiwo'ole

Thank you again for all your faithful readership :) Please review and let me know how you like this conclusion.

Become a Ghost

Chapter 30

Byakuya blurred to a stop in the clan's main gathering room. At that time of day, it was empty save for a few servants busily sweeping and polishing its already-pristine interior. At Byakuya's entrance, all but one fainted from the force of his reiatsu. The lone survivor fell to the ground, panting.

"Clan meeting, immediately," he informed the servant. "Gather the elders. Gather everyone. They have five minutes to present themselves."

"Hai, Byakuya-sama," the servant replied woozily, and tried to crawl toward the door.

"Nii-sama!" exclaimed Rukia as she arrived, clutching the door jamb with one hand and her side with the other, trying to catch her breath from running so hard. "Nii-sama, listen to me-"

"Rukia, go inform the other captains that there is no need for concern." His reiatsu had, by this time, begun to draw people from all corners of the estate without need for the poor servant to go fetch them. Doubtless the entire Gotei 13 could feel the immense flow of his power and were wondering if Seireitei were under siege. "Tell them I am... handling a clan issue."

"Nii-sama-"

"Now, Rukia."

She paled even further, if possible, but flash-stepped away.

As the room began to fill with Kuchikis, Byakuya stepped onto the dais at the head of the room and turned to the carved box in the wall niche. He opened it to reveal the ceremonial haori he wore for clan business, the one with the elaborate gold figurings suspended from a chain across the chest. It was so stiffly embroidered that it was intensely uncomfortable to wear; also, it was ancient and held the fusty scent of decaying silk and the herbs pressed within its folds, when not in use, to ward off moths and try to stall the ravages of time.

He always wore the itchy, smelly thing when required, because that was his duty, which he had always done, with flawless dedication. He tore the robe from the chest and turned back to the growing crowd, letting the old bundle of sacred fabric trail heedlessly on the tatami.

The senior members of the Kuchiki family had assembled by this time. They all stared at him; the younger ones with trepidation, the older with disdain and some even with a hint of haughty satisfaction, as if they had always known he'd come to this sad end and were pleased to have been proven right.

O-jun appeared at the entrance; the crowd fell back on either side to leave a clear path between her and Byakuya. She walked- no, she strolled- up the aisle until she stood directly before him and sketched a barely-respectful bow.

"To what can this one attribute the honor of this... impromptu meeting, Byakuya-sama?" she asked, her tone bordering on insolent. Rukia slipped in from a side door, followed by her captain and Kyouraku-taichou, and watched with huge eyes. She'd probably thought that having those captains present, as members of fellow noble clans, might somehow... help?

"I wish to inform the clan that I have granted permission for my sister Rukia to marry my lieutenant, Abarai Renji," he replied icily. Rukia's mouth dropped open. Ukitake placed a hand on her shoulder; whether to restrain, comfort, or congratulate, Byakuya could not tell. "Am I to expect dissent as a result of this approval?"

"It pains this one to say that the clan does not find this an appropriate decision, Byakuya-sama," O-jun said. Despite her age, and the fact that she had to be struggling to hold her composure in the face of Byakuya's roiling power, her voice did not waver at all, nor did her posture slump.

"The clan believes that inclusion of a commoner will weaken it. The clan feels that supporting such a union is proof that Byakuya-sama's judgment is not of the soundness needed to lead as the scion of the Kuchiki family should."

"The commoner of whom you speak has raised himself from poverty and deprivation to a position of strength and power held only by the elite of Soul Society," Byakuya informed her. "You do not find him worthy?"

"Of your sister: yes, Byakuya-sama," said O-jun. "Of the Kuchikis: no."

From his peripheral vision, Byakuya could see Rukia flinch at the insult. His reiatsu flared even higher, and the bulk of the people in the room, who'd been barely managing to stay upright, dropped to the floor like rocks. O-jun sank, a trifle gracelessly, to her knees, where she ought to have been from the beginning when addressing the head of her clan.

"My lieutenant has conducted himself with honor and loyalty for decades, and has achieved bankai, the highest rank of ability possible. He has fought at my side numerous times, and contributed to the salvation of the world, including your own esteemed existence, on several occasions." He raked a contemptuous glance over her. "And you cannot even stand before me."

O-jun's hands had begun to tremble. "Byakuya-sama, the clan-"

"And what of Inoue Orihime?" he continued, interrupting carelessly. "She, too, is not of sufficient class for the illustrious Kuchikis?"

He could feel her coming closer; Rukia had probably sent for her in hopes that she would be able to keep him from acting on the cauterizing fury he felt. "She has worked tirelessly to protect Soul Society, risking her life even before it was her duty as a shinigami, to save the world- including your own valuable existence."

Again, he pushed out with his reiatsu. The entire room was tinged pink from the force of it, the walls were starting to quake, and the air was shimmering. Rose-colored flames were streaming from him; he was sure he looked demonic. Everyone but the strongest were passing out from the force of it.

Orihime dashed into the room, Renji on her heels, and skidded to a stop, her eyes wide and worried. Byakuya's heart gave an ecstatic leap at the sight of her, but it did not distract him from the point he was making to his family.

"She can raise the dead," he informed O-jun. His voice was a frozen whiplash, but his eyes were only for Orihime. Awareness was an arc of lightning between them. With effort, he dragged his attention back to the old woman on the floor. "And you cannot even breathe before me."

"Renji-kun, what's happened?" Orihime asked as they pelted toward the Kuchiki estate. He'd fetched her from her physical exam with no more than a breathless apology to Unohana-taichou before grabbing her arm and flash-stepping from the room.

"He heard Rukia and me talking about O-Jun's warning about us getting married, or you having anything to do with Taichou," he replied with a grim sideways glance. "You better hurry."

Orihime's breath caught. Oh, god. This is exactly what she had feared so hard, for so long. And now there was nothing she could do to prevent it. The thought of the humiliation Byakuya would surely feel, when deposed as leader of his clan, made her stomach feel like it was plummeting to her feet.

Byakuya's ferocious power was evident before they'd even left Fourth Division. Orihime shivered; he'd told her, those months ago when she'd just died, that if he failed to control himself he'd reduce the world to a smoking crater. She looked around the estate as they touched down; it was definitely looking a bit smoky around the edges.

"Shit," muttered Renji.

They tracked the flow of reiatsu to the huge gathering room. What they found there was at the same time both better and worse than what Orihime had expected; Byakuya standing on the dais, looming over everyone with the coldest expression on his face she'd ever seen. Bodies were strewn everywhere, but there was no blood (yet). A good sign?

Rukia stood to one side with Captains Ukitake and Kyouraku, both of whom had their hands resting not-so-casually on the hilts of their zanpakutous.

"She can raise the dead," Byakuya was saying to that awful old lady who'd been so rude to Rukia before. He looked just as he had when she'd first met him as a Ryouka invading Soul Society: an icy, pitiless lord, unapproachable and deadly.

But she knew what fires burned behind the ice, and his eyes, when they met hers, were silver flames. He glanced with contempt back at O-jun, sagging on the tatami. "And you cannot even breathe before me."

Orihime was feeling a little breathless herself. O-jun could barely raise her head from the floor. Her lips had begun to turn blue, in fact. Rukia's hand shot out and clasped Orihime's in a death grip. It was really starting to look like Byakuya was going to kill all these people, and that would be pretty bad.

"Byakuya," Orihime said softly, her voice clear over a silence marred only by the gasps of those struggling for air. He met her gaze.

Wordlessly, she begged him for the mercy his family had not shown her.

Wordlessly, Byakuya promised to do anything she wanted of him.

He rolled his reiatsu back in, controlling it until the bodies on the floor began to stir. O-jun struggled to her knees and stared at him, clearly speechless.

"You owe your lives to the woman you deem unworthy of this family," he informed the elderly woman. "It is only because she asks it that I spare you."

"So you feel another would suit the clan better as leader. Another who would bring more prestige, more wealth, more honor to the family, since I have been so lax in my duty." Byakuya raised the robe still clenched in his fist, letting everyone see it. "If such a paragon exists, let him come."

He tossed the robe to the floor, letting the aged silk flutter to the tatami below the dais, where it crumpled in a sad heap.

There was silence. Not one person moved.

"None of you are brave enough to take the role of family head from my hands? None of you strong enough? Surely not."

He continued to wait. And wait.

After another long, fraught moment, he said, "I will assume, by the complete lack of respondents, that no other is so well suited for this role. I declare myself confirmed as Kuchiki clan leader."

O-jun sliced a glare at Kuchiki Ginrei, watching silently from a back corner. He alone of the elders had remained upright during Byakuya's display of rage.

"Ginrei-sama, have you no counsel for your grandson? Will you do nothing to prevent this?" she croaked.

Ginrei stepped forward. "There is no wisdom I could offer superior to his own, and he has surpassed me in power. Even were I inclined to stop him, I have not the strength to do so."

He bowed to his grandson, and stepped back into the corner. Byakuya felt a shock right down to his feet; never had he dreamed that his grandfather, long the most powerful man in his life, and always the greatest influence in it, would praise him so publicly. And he had never thought he could ever achieve the same levels of ability; to know that Ginrei believed Byakuya to have surpassed him was a humbling experience that he would examine at a later, less fraught time.

For now, the family members began to stand, brushing themselves off and murmuring with shocked faces as they started to file out the door. Rukia turned into Renji's embrace, and he held her close as she wept, just a little, in relief. Orihime took a step toward Byakuya, but he was not yet done.

"I announce my resignation as Kuchiki family head."

Another silence, this time absolute.

"Byakuya-sama." O-jun, bless her heart, would not go down without a fight. "You cannot-"

"I find the clan undeserving of my attentions and efforts. I will not waste my time leading a group of fools."

O-jun went from pale to gray. "But-"

"You will leave my estate within the hour. Because I am kind-" here, more than a few Kuchikis uttered disbelieving noises before Byakuya's frosty glance raked over and subdued them once more "-I will permit you to bring with you whatever possessions I have generously purchased for your use."

"Oh, I wish I knew what was going on," moaned Orihime. She was so, so confused.

"You and me both," Renji muttered.

"It's great," Kyouraku hooted. "He's the direct descendant of the first Kuchiki, and the official owner of the estate and all Kuchiki wealth. If they'd deposed him, effectively firing him, he'd have had to leave in disgrace."

"But since he stepped down on his own," Ukitake continued, "effectively firing them, they're the ones who must leave."

"It's like a corporate takeover," Orihime said in astonishment.

"Oh, it's brilliant," crowed Kyouraku. "Wish I'd thought of it. Wish I could do it; the elders in my clan are just as bad as this clutch of old vampires."

"Wussy," Ukitake said genially, grinning when Kyouraku elbowed him in the ribs.

Byakuya stared at O-jun in hostile silence until she touched her wrinkled forehead to the floor, stood, and wobbled out the room after all the others, leaving only the shinigami to remain.

The moment the door shut behind O-jun, a blur flew at him, and suddenly his arms were full of Orihime. She was crying, of course. She locked her arms around his neck and clung like a limpet in particular fear of being dislodged as she wept into his neck.

He would not ever be dislodging her; Byakuya would let her cling to him as long as she wanted. Hopefully for at least the next century.

"I'm sorry," she sobbed. "I tried so hard to keep any of this from happening. I tried to keep from falling in love with you, but it didn't work. Then I tried to pretend I wasn't in love with you, but that didn't work, either."

Her face was wet, her nose was red and starting to run, and her cheeks were blotchy. Byakuya thought she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

"Of course it didn't work. You're a terrible liar, and a worse actress. You convinced absolutely no one in your attempts to pretend you hold no affection for me. Least of all me."

He chose to conveniently ignore the existence of that horrible period between her defection from the estate to her quarters at the Fourth, and his realization after she'd healed his broken knee. Using the hem of his sleeve, he tenderly wiped her cheeks as she gaped up at him.

"All you did was make both of us miserable. Why did you not have faith in me?"

Orihime's mouth worked silently, fishlike, for several seconds. "Well, mostly because I didn't know you could do what you just did," she said at last. "That was pretty amazing. And sexy. I shouldn't find it sexy, because it was really mean. You almost killed those old people!" She sighed. "I'm in love with a violent man of uncontrolled passions." She peered hopefully up at him, wanting him to take the hint.

Take it he did; he laughed, shocking everyone present (including himself), then flash-stepped them from the room. They blurred to a stop in The Thicket.

He curled his arms tighter around Orihime, exulting in her reciprocal embrace, and kissed her as if she held the secrets of the universe within her. Possibly she did; if how he'd felt that horrendous time was any indication, life without her would not be much worth living. With any luck, it was not a prospect he would have to endure again for a very long time. Hopefully forever.

"Never keep a secret from me again," he commanded gently when they parted at last. "Even if you think it will hurt me, even if you think there is no solution."

"I won't," Orihime agreed instantly. "Never, ever, ever, ever, ever. Never."

Ridiculous. He kissed her again, so deeply she appeared drugged when they pulled back.

"Unf," she panted, "you are the best kisser."

"How many other men have you kissed?"

"At least..." Orihime had to stop and think. "At least three. Maybe four; I was really tipsy at one of those pub crawls, and Shuuhei-kun was pretty handsy that night, so odds are good that- unf."

When he stopped kissing her this time, Byakuya told her, very sternly, "You will not be kissing Hisagi-fukutaichou again."

She smiled dopily at him. "Nope."

"And you will stop cuddling Hitsugaya-taichou and Hanatarou-san."

"But they're- okay. No more cuddling."

"You're lying again. Or trying to."

"No, I'm- okay, I am. But I really like cuddling them, and they're no threat to you at all, believe me!" She snuggled more deeply against him and planted a kiss on his chin. "You have nothing to worry about. There isn't a man alive or dead that could tempt me away from you. I practically get a nosebleed every time I look at you. I've used all my batteries up, thinking about you."

It was Byakuya's turn to gape. His mind was flooded by the strangest melange of images: Orihime, tongue lolling out cartoonishly as she panted in lust, with blood streaming in a geyser from her face; Orihime, spread-eagle on her bed, pleasuring herself with one of those lewd toys from the Living World. She threw back her head and laughed at the feel of his very confused erection suddenly pressing into her belly.

"Perhaps another trip to the Living World is in order," he said then, after clearing his throat, "to purchase more? Because I am interested in learning about how they are used."

Orihime touched another kiss to him, this time in the hollow of his throat, before trailing the tip of her tongue up. "I have to admit, I admire your commitment to scholarship."

"I am nothing if not a dedicated pupil of modern technology," Byakuya murmured. His hand came up to cup her head, fingers threading through her hair to press her closer as she tormented him with her mouth.

"I don't think we need any modern technology right now, though," she continued, sounding both avid and shy at the same time, somehow. He found it bewitching and ran his other hand down her back to her luscious backside, grasping a palmful with deep satisfaction.

"You are correct. The old analog methodology will suit us quite well, I feel," he managed to gasp. She was sucking on his earlobe now, and her hands had wormed their way inside his kosode to stroke his chest and shoulders, grazing his nipples with a more-than-coincidental frequency.

"More specifically, a bed," Orihime stated. "Or even just a horizontal surface, at this point. I'm not particular, as long as I get to make love to you."

Byakuya felt more speech would be superfluous at best; his response was to flash-step them to his bed chamber. They blurred to a halt in the center of the room, which was empty as always during the daytime. He peeled himself away from her to yank the futon from the closet and spread it out with an impatient shake.

When he turned back to her, it was to find she had shucked her kosode, dropped her hakama, and was just shrugging her shitagi from her shoulders. The sight of her bare legs and the creamy skin being revealed, inch by inch as the garment slid from her, struck him speechless.

"I didn't want to waste any more time," she said in a small, sheepish voice. "We've wasted too much time as it is."

He could not possibly have agreed more, and began to pull off his own uniform. His mind coursed with the mental images he had collected so lovingly over the past months, of acts he wanted to do to her, and with her, and his erection— merely half-hopeful before— twitched into a state of full, eager excitement.

"I just hope you can forgive me," she was saying, head downcast as she stood there in nothing but her underwear, the very picture of sorrow. It was somehow ludicrous and intensely stimulating at the same time. "For lying and keeping us apart for so long."

"I will always forgive you," he replied thickly, feeling dazed at her nearness, and her nakedness, and their imminent debauchery. "But can we postpone the guilt-laden self-flagellation for another time?"

She looked up at him then, her eyes and mouth both rounding in surprise, because he was fully naked and extremely aroused.

"Ohmygod," she muttered, her eyes latched onto his groin, and swayed on her feet. "Could you please kiss me now? Because you are incredibly sexy and I love you very much and I think I'm going to catch on fire."

"Orihime," he breathed, gathering her against him. He couldn't kiss her yet, had to hold her, had to feel her against his body, had to just experience what it was like to have his love returned. Waves of adoration rolled through him, mingling with relief and satisfaction. He pressed his cheek to her hair, inhaled the fresh green scent of her.

Mine, his soul sang. This is mine. This woman is mine. This love is mine.

Her arms came around him, her hands clutching his shoulders with force, as if she were terrified of letting go. She buried her face against his chest and shuddered, then relaxed against him.

"I'm so sorry I hurt you," she mumbled. "I have no idea what I'm doing and I think maybe my judgment is pretty bad, so I make awful decisions."

Byakuya's libido was asserting itself with a vengeance; Orihime's bottom was lush in his hands, and the supple fullness of her breasts against his chest had his mouth going dry with lust. Her lips were pink and her skin was smooth and her entire body was soft and welcoming...

"You are young," he replied. "I forget, sometimes, how young you are. You will learn. I will help you."

She lifted heavy-lidded eyes to him, gleaming with excitement, and it was all he could do to keep from pushing her to the futon and flinging himself on top of her. Byakuya gave her backside a squeeze; his mouth swallowed her little hiccup of surprise, and then she was kissing him back in a voluptuous slide of lips and tongues.

This was nothing like the first giddy kiss in the park in Karakura Town, nor the tentative explorations they'd enjoyed that sake-soaked night in The Thicket after the party, nor even their kisses of relief in the hospital room earlier. This was a kiss that swung heavy and low with intent, with full knowledge that there would be no more delay, no more avoidance.

Byakuya slid his hands up her neck to bury his fingers in her hair, making the long chestnut waves tumble around her shoulders. The silk of her skin under his fingertips had him groaning into her mouth, to be answered with a moan of her own.

Orihime felt gluttonous, like she couldn't get enough of him: his scent, his taste, his feel, his strength. She had known he loved her, but now she knew he loved her. It was no longer an unspoken thing, quivering between them but formless, like some weird jello monster. She was well accustomed to what it was like to have love rock her, to sway from the force of it in her chest, but the exultation of having that love returned, the sheer blinding joy of it- this was new, this was immense and frightening and unbelievable, all at the same time.

She couldn't stop running her hands over him, memorizing the sensation of his skin, the rolling muscles beneath, the heat of him. His cock jutted heavily against her, and she twisted until it shifted from its place against her belly, down to fit against the apex of her legs.

"Mmm, better," she murmured against his lips, hungry for stimulation there. Byakuya gasped, rubbing her back and forth against him with his hands on her hips.

She had just managed to grab herself a handful of beautifully-muscled ass when Byakuya began to sink toward the floor. Orihime, unwilling to be parted from him for even a moment, followed him down.

Byakuya had pushed down the cups of her bra and was playing with her breasts like a man who'd never seen any before: squeezing, fondling, rubbing with an almost childlike delight. Once they were kneeling before each other on the futon, he pulled his mouth from hers and bent his head to her chest, taking a nipple into his mouth and sucking hard enough to have Orihime crying out in shocked pleasure, glad they were already off their feet or she'd have toppled over.

"Byakuya, that's so good," she whispered, rocking helplessly against him.

"I have dreamed of this," he muttered against her before drawing her other nipple into his mouth and swirling his tongue in a complicated maneuver around it. "They are even better than I had imagined."

Orihime would have laughed at that, except she was feeling the same way about him. His skin was like hot satin, and her hands couldn't get enough of running over him. She was feeling restless, though, and needed to feel more of him against her. She twisted her arms behind her back so she could unfasten her bra, then shimmied her arms until she could tug it off. That left her clad in only her panties, which Byakuya was at that moment peeling off her.

When they were finally bared to each other, he raised his head (with some reluctance, it must be noted) from her breasts and allowed himself a slow, leisurely perusal of her form. Orihime would have felt self-conscious, except that the rampant appreciation and lust apparent on his face settled any qualms she might have had about herself. She was feeling rather appreciative herself; she was ravenous as she stared at his shoulders, chest, arms, and belly; at the long muscles of his thighs and the impressive cock-stand at their juncture.

Orihime clasped his prick in her hands, feeling the heat pouring off him, observing his very gratifying reaction of arching himself more firmly into her touch, head cast back. She lay back on the heap of her discarded uniform; like steel to a magnet, Byakuya followed, prowling over her reclining body on all fours.

"I… I haven't done this before with anyone else," she whispered. "I hope I'm not bad at it."

"I have not done it much myself," Byakuya replied after a pause. He trailed one hand up between her thighs, which fell apart as if he'd said open sesame. "Ah, how pretty you are, here."

He ran a finger along the split at her center, parting her further, sliding easily through the wetness there before he glanced up. "You do not mind that I won't take more time before we…?"

"God, no," Orihime groaned, her arms going around his waist and tugging him closer. He lowered himself into the cradle of her hips and they both gasped at the contact and the heat. "If we have to wait much longer, I think I'll die."

"Mmhmm," he murmured, taking her lips in another luxurious kiss as he fitted himself against her. With a thrust he slid in, and they both groaned in relief.

"Ohhhhh!" gasped Orihime in wonder. She'd been penetrated before, by her sex toys, but it had never been like this, searing heat stretching her, the press of a body all along her own.

And it was Byakuya, for whom she had longed these endless months. The emptiness within had finally been filled, the last piece of the jigsaw puzzle of her life fitted into place. With him inside her, she was complete.

"I love you," she told him, sighing as he filled her again and again.

Byakuya slid one arm under her back, gathering her close, and cupped the back of her head with the other. He buried his face against her neck, moving with almost heartbreaking earnestness against her.

Orihime felt tenderness rise up within her, warring with the pleasure that rippled outward from her center, threatening to shatter her with its intensity as it grew. She wrapped her legs higher and tighter around him, feeling him go just a little deeper than before. She wanted to take all of him inside, just surround his entire body with hers.

"If only," he muttered in her ear, and she realized she must have been speaking out loud. The sensations roiling through her began to take on a more frantic feel, and she moved against him with more purpose as her goal shimmered in the distance.

"Come with me," Byakuya murmured into the shell of her ear.

His voice had always made her shiver with longing, and to hear it soaked in blatant need and love— for her— caused the tension in Orihime to snap. Her entire world narrowed down to an endless cycle of spasm and release, spasm and release as she wailed in rapture.

Blinded, almost deafened, she was only dimly aware of his choked gasp at the feel of her climax around him, and with a savage thrust, Byakuya followed her. He moaned brokenly into her hair, his hips pummeling hers, his arms shaking around her.

Orihime panted, then realized the reason she was having so much trouble breathing was because she was holding Byakuya just that tightly. She loosened her grasp and they both sucked in great lungfuls of air.

"Sorry," she said, a little sheepish.

"I forgive you," he replied graciously, and licked a bead of sweat from her throat. "That was…" He trailed off, shaking his head in amazement, apparently at a total loss for words.

"Yeah, it really was," she agreed dreamily as she ran her hands lightly up and down the smoothness of his back. "I can't wait to tell Tatsuki."

He left off dropping kisses along her neck to rear back and meet her eyes. "You will tell her about this?"

A laugh burst from Orihime. "No, just how everything has resolved. Though," she said, consideringly, worryingly, "I do feel like everyone should know how amazing you are. I feel like I should take out a full-page ad in Seireitei Monthly: 'I made love with the glorious Kuchiki Byakuya and it was incredible!' "

He relaxed again and smiled. Well, his lips curled up at the corners. A little. "Then I shall place an ad on the other side of the page that reads, 'I made love with the radiant Inoue Orihime and it was beyond compare.' "

"Radiant, huh?" she beamed up at him, yes, radiant, and glowing, and ethereal and every other superlative his addled brain could think up at that moment.

"If I am 'glorious', then you are 'radiant'," Byakuya told her. "My pride will accept no less."

She just hugged him tight, with arms and legs and those delightful secret inner workings of hers that had his eyes almost crossing as arousal flashed through him like a stab to the solar plexus.

Orihime's face went through a lightning-fast shift of emotions, from confusion to comprehension to a sort of erotic knowledge that should have looked foreign on her, but was instead perfectly at home. She might be an innocent, but she had the instincts of a seasoned courtesan.

"Ahh, that feels wonnnnnnnderrful," she purred in his ear, with a languorous stretch beneath him.

It certainly did, and merited further exploration. But…

"You are not too sore? Too tired?"

Orihime placed her hands along his face, her gaze exquisitely tender, and he could have sworn he saw stars in her eyes.

"Never," she whispered. "Never too anything, for you."

So he kissed her, and they began again.