Distractions

By Oniko

AN: This gets awfully close to non-con towards the end, so if that sort of thing disturbs you, be warned.

... ... ...

Sesshoumaru listened to Jaken go over the day's schedule with only half an ear. Most of his attention was focused on the human girl sleeping peacefully in the small alcove set aside for that purpose. He had not intended to bring Kagome to his home when he sensed her approach, just fuck her and leave her like before, but she intrigued him. It wasn't often that a human survived a demons attentions, if the woman didn't die at her lover's claws the dark energies withered her soul, and fewer still came back for more.

He could sense his dark power sliding just under her fragile skin, healing the damage from their last coupling. This puzzled him; that his power found itself at home in a human woman's body and not just any human woman, a priestess. It molded itself to her needs as though she were a demoness in her own right, and he wanted to know why.

She began to wake, yawning and stretching. He could feel his manhood hardened as he watched her. Her bowed spine arch her back off of the futon and thrust her soft breasts, still speckled with dried blood, into the air. A small smile curved his lips. The wanton bitch teased like a kitsune vixen, and that was the other reason he had decided to bring her with him. The strange human girl could certainly provided for distraction from the tedium of managing the Western Lands.

"Jaken, get out," he growled, stalking towards the girl in his bed. The little kappa squawked disgracefully and ran from the room. He shed his plain juban, that was all he wore this early in the morning, easily and was on her; his claws running through black hair and across fair skin. She gasped and sighed, opening willingly for him. He accepted her invitation and thrust hard into her. She cried out in pain and he could smell the coppery scent of fresh blood. She no longer smelled of innocence, but of blood and lust. So he didn't stop; he continued pounding into her and she cried out with each thrust. Her blunt claws raked down his flanks, pulling at his hips encouraging him. Harder. Faster.

It was over all too soon. He pressed himself into her warm, slick body. He had to be careful, oh so very careful, not to grind her fragile human bones to dust under his hands. And also reigning in the spill of power, it wouldn't due for her to have a reason to leave before he had finished with her.

He remained within her enjoying the warmth of her wrapped around him as his body relaxed in the afterglow. Gradually her quivering beneath him stilled and they lay entwined together in blissful silence. But that wasn't to last either.

"Um… Sesshoumaru?" she asked. He briefly debated growling at the familiar use of his name, but that required more energy then it was worth, so he did nothing. "I've been meaning to ask, when I awoke… was it yesterday? I saw a youkai in the hall. It was the strangest thing, he was afraid of me. Do you know why?"

"Yes," he grunted softly, and idly wondered to himself what was it about sex that made him so damned talkative.

She waited, looking up at him earnestly. It was an expression that did not mesh well with the fact that the girl was naked, in his bed, with him still inside her. She prompted "Well?"

"There was some question as to the wisdom of this one's actions of late," he said coolly. "A demonstration was in order." He smirked remembering the look of fear in the youkai's eyes as he used Kagome's purification powers to utterly destroy the fool that had dared to questioned him. The youki had been stripped from what passed for the demon's soul as the flesh was stripped from bone and the bone crumbled to dust leaving nothing but a small ceremonial knife that had once been used to commit seppuku by a great warrior out-maneuvered politically and brought to ruin so long ago that even Sesshoumaru's mother had long since forgotten his name. The once fine blade was old and brittle and easily snapped under Sesshoumaru's foot.

"A demonstration?" she asked suspiciously. "What kind of demonstration."

"Do not fear," he said turning them to the side and nuzzling close to her, breathing in the scent of sex, sweat and her. "It was adequate."

"Adequate?" She pulled away and poked at him. "What did you do?"

He felt the cold brush of air as his genitals slipped from her warm confines. He grabbed her hands and slammed her down on the futon.

"Do not question me," He snarled.

"I'll do what I- what I damn well, please," she snarled back, stumbling over the curse. He was on the brink of smiling indulgently at her when a poorly placed kick landed her knee closer to his manhood then he would have liked brought a swift end to that threat.

"Enough of this," he snapped, getting up off of the futon and hauling her with him by the short chain dangling from her collar. He had unhooked it during the night for some of the more creative positions but fortunately had the foresight not to remove it entirely. "You must learn to be still."

"Fat chance of that," she said, stumbling after him as he dragged her across the room. He could feel a vicious smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. She may tease like a vixen, but she still fought like a bitch.

Reaching their destination, he threw her against the wall with enough force to expel the air from her lungs. Stunned, and preoccupied with re-learning how to breathe, she did not fight him as he swiftly latched the manacles around her wrists and ankles. A gag was produced from one of the drawers and the noisy bitch's silence was assured. He stepped back and examined his handiwork; she hung against a pillar strong enough to withstand the weight and power of youkai much larger and far more dangerous then herself, with her delicate little claws useless and pinned above her head, exposing the long expanse of her toned and vulnerable belly to him, her legs splayed and unable to support her weight. But still, there was something missing.

Struck by inspiration, he turned to his desk and withdrew a tanto, an elegant blade the length of his hand, from one of it drawers. He unsheathed it as he approached Kagome, who had her wide eyes fixed on the blade in his hand.

He could smell fear, real fear without the sweet edge of arousal. He wasn't sure whether he liked that. He traced the curves of her face with the dull back edge of the blade, drawing the tip of the gently against her more sensitive areas. He leaned in close, his cheek sliding against hers as the blade slid down between her legs, and there was that sweet scent he wanted.

"You appear to be in need of another lesson, Kagome," he whispered, his voice sounding huskier then he would have liked. He bit down lightly on her ear as the blade bit deep into the wood. Kagome's startled yelp turned into a soft moan as the hilt of the tanto pressed against the sensitive areas between her legs. "You are to stay here and consider what you have done wrong," he dragged his claws lightly across her stomach, just a little more pressure and her guts would spill out hot and steaming into his hands. "That is, if you can think at all."

... ... ...

Kagome's presence, aside from the tantalizing scent, did provide some measure of entertainment as his morning appointments flitted in and out of his office. Sesshoumaru's dislike of the intricacies of running the estate was a poorly kept secret, and his level of irritation could usually be gauged by what poor fool had been strung up and tortured, but not killed. Even Sesshoumaru knew better then to kill the idiots who ran the estate in his absence without good reason, it required the training and replacement of some other idiot for the position and that lead to whole new levels of irritation when he would much rather be out killing something, preferably Naraku or his idiot brother. So he refrained from killing the help outright, torture and dismemberment where still game though.

He smirked as the next idiot in the long line of idiot stepped into the office to give his seasonal report of the estate. The youkai was human-shaped with only the sharply tipped ears to give away his nature, even his claws were trimmed back. He glanced briefly at Kagome, just enough to see that she wasn't bleeding out so Sesshoumaru must be in a good mood this morning. Then, two steps in, the smell registered, unknown aroused female, and the demon's head snapped back around to stare at the girl, who, by now, was glaring back at him. They remained frozen like that for a few seconds before a warning cough from Jaken shattered the shocked silence and the demon spun around to face his lord, with a slight flush staining his pale skin, a mix of embarrassment and desire. Youkai where by nature physical and sensual beings, but there were still limits to what was publicly acceptable behavior, and Sesshoumaru was treading very close to that line. The demon gave his report, an assessment of the collection of rents from the lands that Sesshoumaru owned and had granted to one retainer or another; or rather his father had granted Sesshoumaru just permitted the allotment to remain. The demon came to the conclusion quickly, with almost unheard of haste, before making his escape from the room the reeked of sex and blood and power.

It was a long morning, though much got done with surprising speed. The youkai of his household had grown too accustomed to seeing their colleagues strung up and bleeding for the slightest inconvenience, this new change in behavior set everyone on edge. They were unsure how to act or react, other then the already realized conclusion that criticism was not well received. Of course, that should have been obvious; criticism had not been received well before. Sesshoumaru realized that he had grown too complacent, too predictable. Otherwise the fool would not have dared voice his complaint at all, much less actually within Sesshoumaru's presence. It was good, then that he had given into the whim to bring the girl, not only did she provide distraction from the tedium but her presence shook up the household and weeded out the weak from the tolerable.

The last of the day's petitioners were harried out by mid-afternoon, and he had a few hours before the scheduled formal dinner with some of his father's old allies, foolish old youkai who played at being great Lords. He could barely suffer their presence, but like the Tenseiga and the estate itself, they were a piece of his father's legacy that he could not lightly set aside. But there was still time, which was good because the girl's mewling cries, even muffled by the gag, were getting to be too difficult to ignore. As he drew near he could sense why the last couple of youkai had skirted wide around the chained woman. Her soul had already been drained of its natural power and, though he had granted her some of his youki it wasn't of the type or amount that she was accustomed to. The arousal in its natural place stirred the power to prepare it for release, but for her here and now there was not enough power so it only fueled an aching need for what was missing. He could feel her need tugging at him, pulling him closer. Such an odd sensation, he had never heard of it before, of course he never heard of any who would so readily release all of her natural power into the hands of another, not on the first night and not without assurance of return in kind.

"Well Kagome, have you learned your lesson?" He brushed the back of his fingers against her cheek and released the gag. Blood trickled down the corner of her mouth where the leather from the gag had cut into the soft flesh. He leaned down to lap at the small cut, the light touch causing her to writhe and whimper. "What was that? Speak up, girl."

"Please," she moaned, the 's' hissing out from between clenched teeth.

"Please, what?" he asked softly as his hand trailed down her body to rest on the hilt of the blade that rested at the juncture of her thighs.

"I don't-" her words were cut off with a gasp, as he pulled the tanto free of the wood with a single sharp pull. He brought the blade up to inspect it. The silk cord wrapped around the smooth hardwood of the hilt had been steeped in her scent, and would probably remain so centuries after the girl herself was dead and dust. But that was a matter to be contemplated later; he tossed the blade aside and turned his attention to Kagome. Her head was tilted to the side, eyes wide and unfocused, and her body trembled, with the taste of her blood fresh in his mouth she made too tempting a picture. And he had never been known for denying himself any pleasure of power or flesh.

He knelt down before her, hands and mouth leaving burning trail on soft flesh in his wake. The manacles on her ankles were swiftly removed allowing for him to lift her hips and lap gently at her slick folds. Her reaction was immediate and violent, screaming and twisting she bucked and kicked knocking him off balance and sending him to the floor before he managed to regain control of her and pin her back against the wall. It was several long moments of holding her struggling form still before her sobs formed into intelligible words. "Stop, please… it's too much. I need… I need… please, stop."

He paused, confused. She was asking him to stop, though she was in no position to ask anything, but her body arching beneath his weight was begging just the opposite. And still he could feel the hollow remnant of her soul sliding across his skin, sinking through him, seeking that cool well of power that was once hers. He slapped her, hard, across the face, the stunning blow breaking the searching contact that had almost attained its goal. Grabbing a hold or her head with a fistful of hair he pulled her up to look at him. "Is that what you want girl, power?" he growled softly. "Then you will take mine."

This time when he lifted her hips to plunge inside her there was no consideration for pleasure either her or his own, just the release of his power that he had been keeping tightly reigned since she first appeared to him in the rain. His power ripped through her soul wave after wave, he was barely cognizant of her screams of agony or her legs tightening around his hips in an attempt to ride out the violent storm.

It was only later, after the brutal passion has passed leaving him weak and trembling and the chains were the only thing holding up Kagome's limp form, that he realized he might have made a mistake.