I don't own Sesshoumaru or Rin. All rights reserved to Takahashi Rumiko, Sunrise Studios, Viz Media etc.,

Title: Stretch Marks

Author: RavynSkye

Rated: M

Words: 733

Summary: The evidence of their love is etched into her very skin.

The skin of her face, fine and pale, smooth to the touch, and porcelain… But not cold like a China doll; instead she has a warm blush to her rounded cheeks, gentle creases in her smile, and a pleasant ridge to her almond shaped mono-lidded eyes that gives her the ever present appearance of vitality and health, youthful despite her years, and so very lovely.

Her cheeks call to his palm and the ruby plump lower lip bades the tip of his thumb to gently trace its contours. Just a moment ago her mouth bewitched him once again and he had tugged that sweet, moist lower lip gently downward, easing his face to hers, so his tongue might be granted access to the sweetness of her mouth, that he might once again learn her secrets.

And as he rolled himself on top of his wife, gently pinning her between his body and the futon, the slide of his skin of hers, Sesshoumaru breathed in Rin's scent once more, raining kisses down upon her face.

His lips found the smooth, thin, delicate skin of her neck, feeling her racing pulse and capturing it between his fangs, lightly pressing in, and using precise control so as not to puncture the fragile place at the junction of her neck and shoulder.

His palms then quite naturally found the skin of her breasts, most times she has tan tips like light cocoa tipping milk-y cream colored, still rounded and yet now heading gravity's call, those globes sag slightly after nursing and yet he can't help but be even more ennamoured with her body each time he sees the evidence of motherhood in her form. She's unhappy with the changes in the way her breasts hang now that she's a mother many times over.

He loves those same changes.

His warm, wet tongue first encircles and then engulfs those buds in turn, and gently suckles, until she's panting, whining, aroused, now she's flushed and sweat-slick, with salty dew-drops beading against her skin, and her now dusky, dark salmon-pink pebbles for nipples make his eyes flow faintly red. She looks delicious. She feels like heaven.

He aches to taste once again the delicate folds at the apex of her thighs, that damp place between her legs where her skin is moist, fragrant with musk, flush and lush, slippery and rose-red, her petals peaking out in layers, like the neckline of her kimono layers, giving glimpses of varied, complimenting hues of sakura pinks and rose reds; her personal, private garden, a secret, sacred place only he is allowed to enter, and where his children emerge from.

And then there is the skin he holds in more reverence than any other place on her body:

The skin of her belly, so pliant, fills his palms and easily molds to fit his large, rough, sword-calloused hands; when he kneads the plumpness of her sides, her "love-handles" as she calls them, she feels like soft dough between his fingers, and fills and shapes to his grasp entirely.

Rin is as a beautiful noblewoman, a wealthy princess, should be: voluptuous, plump, thick, well-fed and oh-so-very soft.

Now, years into their mating and four children later, the skin of her belly also bares the purple-red marks of being stretched to accommodate the carrying of several of his offspring. These stretch marks, like battle scars, bring not revulsion when he sees them, but instead, his love and respect for her deepens each time his tongue runs along the uneven, discolored flesh.

To his eyes, these marks, these scars only add to her perfection.

His cock hardens and breathing quickens each time he lays eyes upon her belly. Tangible proof of their love is etched into her very skin.

Her cheeks flush when his tongue traces the indents of her motherly scars and she whispers, "Sesshoumaru-sama… Please… Don't… Rin's tummy is ugly now."

He growls softly in his throat, nuzzles more deeply into the dip of her belly-button, and rubs her inner thigh with his throbbing arousal. With a soft smile, and an embarrassed sigh, his girl gives in and allows him to worship at the altar of her womb, the sacred space wherein she has carried, and the gods willing, will one day again carry more of his offspring.

"Your belly is beautiful, Rin… My beautiful little girl grew to be an even more beautiful mother."