A/N: Soooo, my first Inuyasha fic? I don't think I like it, I wrote it a long time ago when I was obsessed with the series. I still love Inuyasha and all, but Naruto has taken over. And I write those characters better. So this will be one of the few Inu posts that will ever appear. It is Citrus yes, but its descriptive citrus with imagery and vocabulary. So you could call it poetic. XD hehe.

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha, or, more importantly, Sesshys fluff. Damn.

Warnings: Rated M for sexual situations involving sexy demon lords with pretty hair.

Pairings: Sess/Rin (She's about 16 here)

Audience

No one sees

But everyone looks.

In the dark of the moon, with only the stars for an audience, an ethereal figure moves; tight and fast and sharp, fisting with constrained energy in every graceful limb. An elegant head turns sharp and under the stars hanging like crystalline fragments in the sky, no one but the crackling flames, as they burn bright in the centre of the clearing sees the flash of fiery molten amber pupils. No one but the flames hears the muted groan of frustration as it emits from a starving throat.

Clever bright eyes grin with anticipation and a clever little hand brushes against silken hair and steel skin- just right.

The two move together, slow and slick, but with an urgency in their languid movements that says they cannot be denied. The molten ambers hands are tight, frustrated. The bright eyes smile is sly and secret.

No one but the ashes in the fire dancing high in the air to see notice the press of bodies against the grass, the pushed aside kimono and the arched back of skin- soft, creamy peach- flushing as a skillful mouth begins to taste everywhere and finds the palate delicious.

No one but the grass, green and springing and soft, feels the claw of delicate hands held over head by a elegantly striped wrist, feels the pool of sticky sweet sweat from legs and back as they quiver and thrash when a velvety smooth and talented tongue swirls over and down and over. No one but the grass feels the mix of hair, silken soft, falling together, a cave around two faces, breath husking and blowing the gentle strands together and mixing; a silver waterfall of moonlight crashing down to pool with the dark as midnight lake below, fathomless curls shot through with rich brown.

No one but the wind blowing breezily and cool against flushed and heated skin hears the slight stifled moans and pleading sighs as the tongue moves slick and slow and teasing, drawing it out until delicate tiny toes and fingers curl and dark eyes squeeze tight with agonized pleasure. No one but the wind sees the devilish fanged smirk in the molten honey eyes, their glow hazy and dark and pleased at the squirming little girl-child when she moans imperiously, pleading thighs clenching his face to her. No one but the wind sees, when it probes curiously, his wicked claws slide in, wet and tight and hot in one sweep. No one sees but the wind, and a dark molten amber gaze with eyes hotter than an open flame.

And when his wicked fingers play and she coils tight with rapture and she squeals high and clear and bright in feral innocence and unafraid with trust, her cries fall only on the drums of tapered elegant ears and the dull dim of the stars overhead who shudder with feeling at her moans.

And now her moment is over, and she lies hot and full in the grass on his luxe pelt, soft and sheltered by the cave of his hair and the shadows sprung from the crackling fire.

He watches her lazy contentment with his face impassive and aloof, crouched fluidly between her legs, still shamelessly open. He is graceful and beautiful- untouchable steel, so icily cold if one touches they burn. Except her. She is special. His eyes are shiny gold, guarded yet focused on her and full of measuring anticipation. And as she breathes deep and shudders he inhales sharp and his hand is on her thigh, velvet on velvet, tingles spreading outward from his long fingers throughout her body.

He waits for her to rise from the rocks as patiently as he can, and when he can no longer resist it; the feel of her skin pulsing under his claws and the flushed and pinked parted lips the fire dances over, the sweet-spicy bright scent radiating waves and her clever eyes flashing at him with a sly little smile in them, when he can bear it no longer, his naked claws contract on her silky thigh and his throat rips a groan and his eyes flash and he moves, so fast it's a blur, and then he has repositioned her with brute force. Now he stares down at her, eyes a smoldering burn against her skin that ignites it with a single look and tingles and shivers down her spine. Bright eyes sparkle knowingly back up at him as she opens her mouth in acquiesce.

In the dark of the night cloaked in inky blackness, only the moon, face peeping from behind the curtain sees the suck and pull of skilled soft lips and the move of eager little hands that stroke and press- just right. No one but the moon sees the tight thrusts of restrained demonic energy and the clench of clawed fingers curling in silky locks of hair with binding forces, holding a soft mouth closer. Spangled silver hair falls forward to hide the spasm and gritted tight jaw of a beautiful fanged face. A clever little mouth works to swallow, and a clever little tongue swirls to catch every drop.

Even though the moon struggles to glimpse, nobody sees the lit expression in the molten gold eyes that flash red, nobody but a dark-haired girl-child who licks her lips, and whose smile holds a thousand secrets hidden away like jewels.

And when he groans for her and she scrambles to get at him, when he pushes her down and presses her sweat shimmered knees open wide, and her face into the richly dense black earth, when her hands claw for a hold in the thick grass and her eyes see nothing but the roar in her head and the dirt on her cheek, and she feels nothing but the ache of her body positioned roughly for him, his eyes on her burning flesh, the cool wind shivering against her pinking exposed skin that fuels zings of hot lust down her tightly coiled and aching core that resides, a burning brick, in her stomach. When she mewls for him and pushes her hips shamelessly far into the air for him to see and his fangs dig at his perfect lips and his hard, bruising hands latch onto her hip and neck and he holds back no longer. When she arches back and he presses in and fills her up to the brim, she gasps and squeals high with excitement and moans of pleasure and wants more, more, more of his deadly claws and wicked eyes, more of his dancing hands and velvet skin, more of his burning love.

He rides her, with skin slapping slick and hot, with moonlit hair brushing forward to flick tingling strands of spider silk against hypersensitive skin, with the build of tortuous push and pull and clench of muscles as he pushes hard and she grips tight, with wet honey dripping and dangerous fangs that trace scraping patterns on a shuddering neck and shoulders that spasm under the force of him, and muffled moans and husking breaths and high pitched cries of want and need that builds and builds and they coil together, so close they're no longer two.

As they join together, uncaring, no one sees but the trembling stars and the eager crescent moon, the excited flames and the peeping grass and wind.

When she pushes back against him with a wild and raw cry and he shudders into her and his breath husks her name against the shell of her ear it is a single fiery comet in them, burning away all other thoughts with a fall from the highest cliff in the world, flying on rocks. They slump to the side, she with exhaustion and he with satiated grace. She is already passing out, over come, as he rests his muscled forearms on either side of her head and leans over in the hollow of sweet breath and silken hair to a secret kiss, fangs sliding over lips, tongues twisting and playing and tasting of essence. She mumbles with languid pleasure and sighs with tingling fullness, bright eyes closing as his touch feathers over her, caressing stomach over rumpled kimono and glancing over the peak of tight dusky breast. His ember eyes gleam in the dark with lazy passion and she smiles and her hand reaches and plays over a cruelly beautiful inhuman face with all the warmth of a sun in her touch. She turns to fall asleep at his side, pushing warm and pressed against him and he remains still, heavy-lidded gaze of warm gold and a hint of a smirk on his cold mouth. Still sleepily hot with low simmering lust, his claws tangle in her curls as he begins his vigil.

In the crisp night, no one sees them save the jealous stars alone in the sky, the green-black grass rippling futility to touch a tiny slim hand, the cracking flame continually throwing longing shadows of light playing across the peaceful human sleep and the deadly demonic features. No one except the envious moon, face inching to catch sight as it glances out from behind their concealing curtain of night. No one except the wind blowing small gusts of balmy breeze rolling through the air, dying to feel the caress of a silken lock, the swipe of velvety skin.

A delicate foot slides as she stretches and murmurs in sated sleep to move over one of his own and her rose lips pout in complacency. His amber hot gaze drips honey dark and craving sweet over her full luscious body in dark desire and confident assurance of gain, and his claws shift in her hair and he sighs and does his best to be patient.

No one sees save the nature that surrounds them with jealous witnesses, and they continue on, waiting for the next darting glance and tryst of urgent lust, skin on skin and silk on silk, molten amber and clever bright eyes, beautiful and exquisite and untouchable, oblivious and uncaring of their audience.

Fin

A/N: Annnd its done! I rather like it now I think. Short and sweet. I really am in love with Sesshy.

Thoughts? Comments? Critiques?

Thankyou for reading!