A/N: Third of the seven one-shots depicting the Seven Deadly Sins. These fics are from BEFORE the events TRC. Meaning no feathers, no FWR, no Fai, no mangled limbs or swallowed eyes, kay? I thought I had posted this one already. The title of each chapter is the latin version of each sin and each sin has its own interpretation according to different people. Meaning, that if it doesn't make sense, I apologize. I explained it in my writing journal. Anyway, Lust is the most straight-forward of all sins anyway.

Now, I didn't want to make an M-rated fic. Not because I don't know how to make an M-rated fic [you have no idea how graphic I could get but because I don't like placing two characters in such a situation unless that they're the type of characters that would easily jump into something like that. Kapish? Lust isn't always about sex, y'know.

Disclaimer: TRC and all its characters belong to CLAMP.

Luxuria

Lust (n.)Usually intense, obsessive and/or excessive thoughts or desires of a sexual nature for self-gratification.

A string of curses left his lips yet again as he stood behind a tree, his arms folded across his chest. Trust Souma to pass the responsibility of taking care of the Princess to him. And of all times, really. Was the woman mocking him? Perhaps she was, finally emulating the same ridiculing Tomoyo was fond of doing. A sigh escaped his lips this time and he momentarily glanced over his shoulder to see if the Princess was all right—

—Only to realize that it was not safe for him to look over his shoulder.

"Kurogane! I saw that!"

There a low irritated growl in his throat before he managed a logical reply with a calm voice. "It was unintentional and without malice, Princess."

His hands clenched around the hilt of Ginryuu as he closed his eyes, feeling an odd but pleasurable sensation coursing through his body, warming him under his skin. It was taboo. Unthinkable. Forbidden. He suppressed another growl and shut his eyes tightly.

He wanted to curse Souma and her sudden task to some far off place in the country. He wanted to curse the architect who had designed the palace, exposing Princess Tomoyo to different dangers, despite the wards she held up. He wanted to curse himself for being too weak-minded, easily drawn away by his emotions at the mere mention of the Princess's safety. And lastly, he wanted to curse Tomoyo. He wanted to curse everything about Tomoyo – from her penetrating gaze which seemed to probe into his entire existence through a mere change in their glint to her laughter which served as a constant comfort to his senses – everything about her that had made him weak and powerless against her.

That luxurious dark hair, oh how he wanted to thread and tangle his fingers through those silky locks, a tickling sensation against his skin. Those eyes, more brilliant than any amethyst he had seen, oh how he wanted to gaze upon them for so long, without anyone and anything bothering him, drowning into their depths. Those slender arms – authoritative when held out yet gentle and kind when pulled against her chest – wrapped sinuously around his neck. Those fingers – so slim and graceful while beckoning him or simply playing her string instrument – tangled with his. That skin – so silken and flawless, fair with a hint of rose, which smelled so divine, like honey with vanilla – pressed against him. Those lips – soft and pliant, like pale pink petals of a rose – marking him.

He worshiped every single thing about her, wanted to mark every single thing about her as his own, and yet it seemed to give him pleasure at the thought of destroying those things, tainting them, fouling them with sin.

Oh how he wanted to crush her under his arms, like a bird caged in iron, her body falling limply against him, her lips uttering a soft plea, the twinkle in her eyes disappearing completely. He wanted to touch her without any apprehension or fear of breaking her. He wanted to hear her call out his name with neither a command nor authority at hand. Perhaps it would satisfy her; perhaps it would not. Nevertheless, she would feel the same pain he would feel whenever his gaze would land on her.

And to think that he was merely several feet away from her, hidden behind a tree, waiting for her to finish bathing in the crystal clear spring of the palace. Another growl left his throat. Souma must indeed be mocking him somewhere, laughing her head off at his situation at the moment. The evil hag, what did she know anyway about what he wanted? What he desired most?

"Kurogane."

Almost immediately, he turned around at the voice yet again without thinking. And yet again, he turned back around, his eyes shut tightly. It seemed that it wasn't only Souma who was mocking him, but the gods of the entire cosmic universe as well. Although already wearing a white garment, he felt that the thin fabric, which clung to her damp skin, did not provide much help to cover the Princess. Apparently, it even enhanced her curves, ones that he only noticed just recently. He kicked himself mentally, reminding himself that he should be a ninja first of Nihon, a knight, before a man. Embarrassment was a pointless and insignificant emotion; there was no room for it.

But then who could blame his reactions? He was, after all, just human, despite the blood-soaked defenses he had around his heart.

"Yes, Princess?" Like before, it took all of his energy and nerve to keep his voice even.

"I'm hoping you're not thinking those thoughts."

What?!

"Ginryuu, I mean." Her voice was filled with laughter and teasing. "So firm and forceful, aren't we? As if we're going to war."

Kurogane fought to urge to start hacking things with his blade. Knowing Tomoyo, there had to be some underlying sexual reference to that seemingly innocent remark and she was obviously speaking pointedly at him. Then again, she was already a little over that age when they discover other bodily functions. He was not at all surprised.

Any day, any given day, oh how he wanted to curse Souma.