Work Text:
“So that is how you think of me.”
The odd pronouncement lapped at the edges of Rin’s awareness with as much urgency as a cat curled up in the sunshine. Sesshomaru was not a verbose man. On rare occasions, the rage of battle put words to his testiness, but Rin had never found being ensconced together in a cocoon of fur, his knot slowly subsiding between her legs, to be a time he was loquacious. Gathering up what little energy she could, Rin laid her hands on the small of his back. He was growing ever softer and she wasn’t ready to be emptied yet.
Rin rolled her hips. She had already gleaned from the giggles of dissatisfied village wives that her yokai husband had longer stamina and a shorter refractory period than a human man, but even the great Sesshomaru would not achieve a fresh erection before the knot abated on the last. Still, she couldn’t suppress the desire to entice him.
Of course, he had been speaking. “What was that, Sesshomaru-sama?”
Despite her embrace, he rose on his elbows. “How soon you forget your own words.”
Rin wrinkled her nose. She talked a lot during. The majority of it was a steady stream of nonsense. Unless she was being particularly cautious, her mouth was faster than her brain, and when he was piling fur beneath her ass to angle her pussy for penetration–
well. Caution would be far from any woman's mind then.
Sesshomaru did not take direction. Cries for deeper, faster, more would be answered only with the resolution that he would fuck her at whatever depth and pace suited him, for however long he wished.
Rin relished being his prey. The intensity and ferocity of his attention was mesmerizing to behold. She knew Sesshomaru to be ruled by his instincts and impulses, always chasing recognition or power or dominance, dropping one path in pursuit of another should it offer a greater prize. Somehow, all of these things converged where her skin slid against his. He fucked her how he pleased, and far be it from Rin to shy away from the sensitive delights he had discovered in her body.
He probably didn’t even need to use his cock. He could probably deliver a shuddering, squirting orgasm simply by telling her to come.
Of course, if he indeed had that power, he was too hungry for his own pleasure to use it.
“Why, what did I say?” Rin knew she talked a lot. That didn’t mean she was listening.
Sesshomaru’s elegant hands took hold of her thighs and spread them further apart. His softened cock slipped out. Rin stifled the mournful whimper of emptiness.
“It came from your mind,” he replied. “What thoughts do you carry in secret?”
Sometimes, it still felt surreal that Sesshomaru possessed such passion. He was nevertheless so exquisitely gentle, so good and kind and beautiful. That would not, could not ever change. But he repaid her worship with worship. She’d never guessed he could be so bold with his mouth, his hands, his cock. He’d lick her pussy for days if only the sensitive flesh could bear it.
His cum was dribbling a cool, wet line from her opening towards her ass. Noticing her discomfort with the sensation, Sesshomaru helpfully caught it on his finger and redirected it back to its proper hole. His limp cock stirred with renewed vigor and he whispered something obscene.
“I don’t have any secrets,” Rin protested. Private thoughts were the specialty of women who married for security, humbly deferred to domineering mothers-in-law and never, ever told anyone who they’d rather be fucking. Rin alone possessed the carefree privilege to abandon chores and drudgery to be fingered by a yokai in the forest. She surrendered everything to him and he gallantly accepted dominion over her body. “You know that.”
“Do I?”
Rin’s back arched as the number of long, invading fingers grew.
Sesshomaru clicked his tongue. “Such a curious thing you said.”
“Whatever it was,” Rin retorted, impatient for the teasing to end and his focus to return where it ought to be, “I wasn’t paying attention, so if you want to know more, you’ll have to tell me what I said.”
A moue of annoyance puckered his perfect lips.
Exasperated, Rin cried, “You brought it up!”
His golden eyes flashed. “I brought it up?” Sesshomaru grasped the base of his growing cock. “I brought it up? You claim innocence, as though your scent, your body and your lust contributed nothing?” He punctuated the question wickedly, his fingers disappearing from her pussy.
Rin thrashed her head against the pillow of fur. “You are being difficult on purpose, Sesshomaru-sama!”
Deftly, Sesshomaru lifted her legs to extricate himself from their embrace and rolled her onto her belly. The fur beneath her undulated and shifted, presenting her ass to his discerning eye.
“Say it again.”
“I don’t know what it was!”
Sesshomaru covered her, the broad planes of his chest rubbing against her back. The pressure compressed her breasts against his fur. Nipples still sensitive from earlier attention the tickle of soft fur was fivefold what it should have been. Silver hair danced at the edges of her vision. As his weight settled over her, one hand covered her own, fisting into his fur together. She felt the hard tip of his cock at her entrance, probing for penetration at this new angle.
“Guard yourself against meaningless words,” Sesshomaru said, sliding into her. He made slow, lazy circles with his hips, and she felt it everywhere. “Speak with intention.”
Rin pressed her lips together, willing herself to contain her usual torrent of words. Her hips synchronized with the sway of his own, moving together in love making far from frenzied but almost more intense for the deliberation. Sesshomaru gathered her sweaty hair and moved it from her neck, laving kisses and licks upon her skin.
Mindfulness eroded as exaltations of her body multiplied. She could not have been more fully possessed by him unless he discovered some means to physically crawl into her soul. “I–”
“Think,” he cautioned, “before you speak. Know what you are about.”
Rin heaved. Her tongue was thick in her mouth. “I am going to come.”
She could hear his eyebrows raise. “Is that all?”
Near weeping, Rin said, “You are making me come.”
Strong hands on her hips pulled her to her knees. His hips snapped, a forceful thrust whiting away the memory of long minutes of total sensation. “What is?”
Her body trembled with the need for release. “You are. You make me come.” The pressure mounted. The crest was so close, it was within her grasp. She moaned in time with the rhythm of his hips. Stars burst behind her eyes. “You fuck me so right and you make me come, Sesshomaru.”
She folded over, gasping and limp as an orgasm tore through her, intense pleasure burning away awareness of anything else.
Rin came to on her back, her face sheltered against Sesshomaru’s neck. He was still, quiet as was his wont, and she noticed his cock was hard against his stomach. “You didn’t finish.”
“You eliminated the distance between us.”
She had delivered the first confession, a delicate implication of her hopes for the future that Sesshomaru immediately answered with audacious passion. Rin’s brow puckered. That laying naked, a tangle of limbs and fur, had become a common occurrence was as much his doing as it was her own.
“Speaking without thinking again?” Sesshomaru muttered.
Rin gasped. “I was paying attention! I was!” She chewed on her lip, scanning her memory for what he deemed so significant. If he could only be fucked by his own cock, then he might understand how that was always more pressing than whatever nonsense came out of her mouth. “I didn’t say the suffix?”
Sesshomaru didn’t seem like he was looking for an apology. In fact, after the first time, he had deliberately pushed her to say it again.
Social conventions were a sign of respect, to be sure, for after a fashion, they were for an audience more so than the recipient. Rin had enjoyed greater intimacy and confidence from Sesshomaru than he granted any other living soul, but the two of them were still manifestly different. To acknowledge that in her speech was simply giving him his due. She could not choose to recuse herself from navigating the social complexities of class or managing interlocking circles of in-groups and out-groups.
“I like the distance,” Rin confessed. “I like you, the person you are. And I like me, the person I am. I’m proud of us for being brave enough to be together, for overcoming doubts or fears or prejudices that could have kept us apart. We’ve both come so far from where we started. It’s worth saying so. I wouldn’t want anyone–especially you–to think I take any of it for granted.”
He was ruminating. Vulnerability was always a careful calculation with Sesshomaru. What measure of sincerity would he offer up as tribute to her confession? Rin cupped the back of his head, a silent urge to let her hug him close, and allow their intimacy to regulate his impulses.
“I do not,” Sesshomaru said finally, “often hear my own name spoken in such a fashion.”
The understated tragedy she had never considered before stole her breath. “Oh, Sesshomaru…”
He did not often hear his own name spoken with affection, with equality or shared purpose. Those Sesshomaru might think of as his friends were to a large degree sycophants. Jaken truly loved him, Rin was sure, but that love was of significantly less weight than Jaken’s fear. Kohaku was fond of him, in the manner that a man who lived in battle was appreciative of a powerful ally. Those who did not address Sesshomaru as a superior wanted to annoy him at best, intentionally disrespect him at worst.
Rin talked a lot. Her mouth was faster than her brain. Regardless, she had found words to be the most powerful tool in her arsenal. Conversation vanquished fear. It fostered connection. It provided distraction from stress or boredom. A little meaningless chit-chat was a sturdy foundation upon which to build.
Rin talked a lot, but she never measured and weighed her words like Sesshomaru. She never calculated how much of her heart she was willing to reveal. He spoke with intention. He made proclamations. He cut his foes with his wit as surely as he did with his sword.
She had always supposed many of the things she said to Sesshomaru were not of much interest to him. What did a yokai care about the village gossip of human farmers and fishermen? The tiny annoyances of her day to day life were surely alien to him. But her words had power. How long had he yearned for something as simple as to be addressed casually instead of one outsider to another, standing on opposite sides of a chasm dug by social hierarchies?
“Sesshomaru,” she whispered. The sounds felt strange coming from her mouth, like a melody that hadn’t been completed. “Sesshomaru, you didn’t finish. I’m rested. Come finish.”
“I will finish when I wish,” came his response.
Then again, it really was no wonder he didn’t hear his name with kindness more often. “Stop being difficult on purpose!”