Miroku and Kagome: 36 tales of love and lust

disclaimer: The characters and world of InuYasha are not mine, they are property of Rumiko Takahashi, Shogakukan, Yomiuri TV, Sunrise, and Viz. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Gnarled
By Sarga

Kagome awoke alone in a bed of overgrowth that had once been a garden. The sun drilled angry light from behind the trees in a blindingly bright display of arrogance. Yes, she was aware it was time to awaken... but did the sun have to be so rude about it?

Stretching out the aching muscles that had been wrenched as she slept, Kagome quickly dressed and set out to find Miroku. She didn't have to look far.

“Would you like breakfast, my love?” Miroku's rich tenor voice greeted Kagome as she walked to the front of the hut, the modest fire licking flames at the fish cooking above.

Kagome flinched at Miroku's term of endearment, the true meaning behind it painfully exposed since his previous night's confession. Frustrated at her unconscious reaction – it wasn't his fault that he was in love with her any more than it was hers that she was in love with Inuyasha – Kagome forced a smile on her lips and nodded, grateful that he wasn't holding a grudge for her less-than-thrilled response. Perhaps they really could continue this 'relationship'... but the seed of guilt had been planted. It would be harder now that she knew he was in love with her, that this wasn't just a distraction.

“I think we can make good time today,” Kagome offered amiably. “If this weather keeps up we can make it to the village in a couple of days...”

...and say goodbye to Sango.

Miroku nodded solemnly. They had lost a comrade in arms, a dear friend and sister. It would be many months before they would be able to think of the dearly departed woman without a shock of grief or pinch of guilt.

The pair finished their meal quickly and quietly, packing the few remaining things that remained. Inuyasha had taken Sango's weapon and Kirara, so their pack was light as they started on the trek that would take days to complete and a lifetime to overcome.

- - - - - - - - - -

Miroku pulsed inside of Kagome, his rigid cock pressing, rubbing, urging her tight passage toward completion. His elbows were placed at her side, his hands wrapping around her bare shoulders from beneath as his sweat-slicked body pulsed in and out rhythmically. His panting breaths were matched by her own, her hands insistent as they pulled his ass further inward, forcing him deep.

Miroku came with a strangled cry of Kagome's name, his whispered 'I love you's' punctuated with butterfly kisses along her jaw.

Kagome would take first watch that night, which was a good thing. Miroku was out like a light and Kagome, thinking about the love her sister had had for the man who was devoted to her. Her guilt was growing thorns and it was hard to sleep as it tore at her from within.

- - - - - - - - - -

The second day of travel was much like the first. The second night, even more so. With tense movements, Miroku took Kagome against a tree the first time, on the ground the second time. And the third. The monk was insatiable, his love for the priestess growing ever stronger with every rippling release.

Except for that rooted, gnarled parasite in the pit of her stomach, Kagome could almost lose herself in this ecstasy of tangled limbs and whispered words...

On the third day of travel, the afternoon brought rain. Unable to make further progress or risk taking ill from the cold and wet, the bedraggled pair sought refuge in a small village. When Miroku dutifully announced that he would not see his pregnant wife take ill, the headman's wife took the couple in with open arms... and open pantry.

Kagome felt nervous at the thought of masquerading as Miroku's wife, but accepted the duty for the sake of comfort – she really didn't want to have walk through or sleep in the rain. The headman's careful eye made her nervous and she stuck by Miroku while he gave the townspeople wards and special sutras for good luck and long life.

Kagome expressed her concern over the headman's unwavering gaze when he had left to attend to some personal business.

“It's probably because you haven't been behaving very wife-like...” Miroku offered with a chuckle. It was a true assessment. Despite having followed Miroku around all day, she had continued to behave as she would if she were in Sango and Inuyasha's presence. Kagome hadn't touched him casually, she hadn't kissed him, she hadn't addressed him with endearments as one in love is wont to do. “Follow my lead and I'll put his fears to rest,” Miroku prompted, kissing her temple from the side before heading back to the headman's home.

Upon entering the home, Kagome noticed that there were no family members around. As headman, he and his wife must have been busy being entertained by other villagers. Kagome was surprised to find Miroku confidently leading her toward the back rooms, into one with a futon that was distinctly ruffled. Whoever owned it had not long left the room...

They were in the brambles now... dangerous territory.

With a sharp hiss, Kagome tried to understand what Miroku was up to as she looked sidelong out the still-open door. “What are you doing?”

Miroku began to disrobe and Kagome frantically scurried back to the door to shut it.

“Leave it open,” Miroku commanded in low tones as he slid the fabric from his body.

“What do you mean, leave it open? Are you trying to get us caught!?” Kagome complied with Miroku's request but still whispered urgently as she scuttled softly back to his side.

“Yes, actually.”

Miroku's matter-of-fact voice stalled Kagome's arguments and all she could reply with was a muted: “Oh.”

Miroku chuckled, brushing a hand across her reddened cheek as his eyes shone with mirth. Reaching his cursed hand to the back of her shirt, Miroku lifted the hem up and over Kagome's head before dragging the zipper of her skirt down to let the colourful cloth fall at her feet like lost petals.

Stripping the girl completely, he could tell she was nervous at the thought of being caught in the act. Miroku grinned at the thought of the necessary 'evil', wondering idly if he would be able to convince her to do this in their own humble village...

Laying Kagome wordlessly down upon his robes (which were spread over the futon) Miroku began his daily ritual of worship... starting with her lips.

Miroku rigid length was already quite ready to penetrate the woman beneath him, but Kagome was still nervous. Covering her jaw, cheeks, nose and eyelids with soft butterfly kisses, he subtly began stroking her skin from shoulder to abdomen.

Finding Kagome at last compliant, Miroku flicked his hand over her nipples, revelling in the feel of her quivering body, much like a shivering leaf in the wind. Knowing she was close to ready for him, he dipped his hand lower and lower to confirm first hand. Slipping his fingers in between her slick folds, he unfolded her silken petals, making languorous circles around the nub of excited flesh. Moving his fingers to slip inside of her, he stole her slickness and drew it out to rub along his own hardened length.

Plunging inside of her, Miroku couldn't help the excited yelp of delight that fell from his lips. Her own lips were twitching with the restrained desire to call out and he knew he had her right where he wanted her.

“Shhh...” Miroku chastised as he began a slow, torturous, rhythmic pace. “You wouldn't want us to be found now, would you?” His whispered words were overwhelmed by her shuddering cry as she came – hard – around him. The rippling muscle sucked him into her, his pace escalating quickly as he neared his own peak much more quickly than he had expected.

Joining his lover in her blissful exultation, Miroku collapsed onto Kagome, bearing most of his weight on his resting elbows, still able to enjoy the feeling of being sheathed inside of her, even as he softened.

Staring into Kagome's eyes, Miroku wordlessly kissed her mouth, his loving gesture a testament to his dedication to her.

Kagome's head fell slightly to the side as her panting breaths tried to calm her frantically beating heart. Her sudden giggles beneath him caused Miroku to quirk his eyebrow in curiosity. Following her gaze, Miroku, too, began to titter in amusement.

Someone had closed the door.

- - - - - - - - - -

The pair stayed the night, setting out after the morning light broke through a cloudless sky. With sidelong glances and rosy cheeks, the headman's wife had made it perfectly clear that it was she who had found them. The headman himself seemed to be more at ease around them and actually sounded remorseful when they left.

Giggling throughout the day, the pair made it within a day's journey of Sango's village before camping for the night.

Their union that night was full of laughter and joyful moans.

The corrupt and mangled flower was beginning to whither.

- - - - - - - - - -

Kagome reached the broken demon-slayer's fence with a wave of apprehension. This was it, the last time she would see her sister. She knew she would never be able to visit this place, it would break her heart to watch it fall apart from disrepair. No one would be here to maintain it. No one would be here to keep it alive.

Kagome trembled as she made her way to the freshest grave with a handful of wild-flowers, carefully picked for their beauty and the seeds they contained. Spreading the flowers delicately over the grave, Kagome hoped that they would take root in the soil. She wanted some form of life to thrive here in this village of the dead. She wanted some tribute to the woman who had been a sister to her, as lively and colourful as the flowers that lay strewn above the dirt atop her body...

Kagome sat back on her heels, her grief inconsolable as she honoured the life of her sister in all but blood.

Like a plant uprooted from a flood-plane, Kagome's bitter guilt was washed from her soul with her tears of mourning. Unaware of why, she felt cleansed, as if her parting words were heard and welcomed, as if her wishes of restfulness and peace were reciprocated. For the first time in days, Kagome felt like she could sleep without worry.

Unknown to the priestess, her sister's spirit could finally rest at ease...

Sango could see that her monk would be well taken care of.