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.

Simple Truths
By Sarga

Moving toward Miroku's empty and dark hut, Kagome decided to go there to wait for him. To talk... to fuck... she didn't care, she just needed him. After all, she had just given up on a long-held dream for him.

Kagome pushed aside the mat that covered the doorway and stumbled inward, the cold hut strangely foreboding. Sinking into the futon, she let out a contented sigh as she settled herself in for a night of waiting. She would stay awake all night if she had to, just so she could meet Miroku alone.

“I would think you would be less cruel than that Kagome. Coming here after being with him...” Miroku's hollow voice startled Kagome out of her internal dialogue.

“Huh?” Kagome fumbled around for the battery-operated lantern she had left in his home, finding the thing after a few moments of empty silence. Finally able to see, Kagome turned her confused gaze to one bedraggled monk who looked suspiciously like he had been... crying.

“Miroku? Are you... okay?” Kagome reached toward her lover only to have him jerk roughly away from her touch.

“Surely you need not ask such a thing?” Miroku's voice was hard. Too hard. Kagome was getting scared.

“I don't understand...”

Miroku glared at Kagome. “Inuyasha made his intentions perfectly clear, just as you have made your own feelings just as unquestionable.”

Kagome was reeling with the implication. Inuyasha had obviously told Miroku of his intention for the night and Miroku mist have thought...

“No! Miroku, he didn't... we never...” Kagome tried to explain herself sincerely, but she knew how it would look. “I turned him away, Miroku. I... I think... I think I'm falling for you.” Kagome's trembling voice was barely a whisper, yet the monk heard her loud and clear.

Blinking slowly, Miroku opened and closed his mouth several times before reaching a shaking hand toward Kagome to... poke her?

“What are you doing?” Kagome said slowly, as if speaking quickly might scare him away. The odd shimmer in his eye as he poked her spoke of the final threads of sanity. If she spooked him, he might just... snap.

“Making sure you're real,” Miroku responded blithely. Obviously this was the most natural thing in the world.

Kagome giggled at the ridiculous reality of the situation. Meeting Miroku's eyes with hers, she saw disbelief turn to wary hope, then the dawning of realization. His gaze grew questioning – he wanted some assurance from her.

Shifting slightly, Kagome did the only thing she knew would speak truly and clearly. Leaping from her seated position, Kagome toppled the monk beneath her and pummelled him with kisses. Frantic, urgent, honest kisses.

Pulling just barely far enough, Kagome hauled her own shirt above her head, jutting out her breasts as she grasped the clasp of her bra at the back to make short work of the contraption. Naked from the waist up, Kagome clasped Miroku's bare hand in hers and brought it to her breast, all motion freezing as his cool, clammy hand touched her soft, warm flesh.

“Does this feel real to you?” Kagome whispered huskily. Miroku squeezed her breast in response and she could almost feel it when full understanding hit. As quickly as Kagome had overturned the monk, he reciprocated. His own robes were bulkier, but he somehow managed to strip everything but the cloth that restrained the void.

Slipping his hands into Kagome's waistband, Miroku slid the fabric down over her ankles, in awe over the understanding that she was here. Freely, of her own accord, Kagome was here. She had rejected Inuyasha and come to him, Miroku. Kagome was his and his alone.

Kagome gave an excited cry at the feel of Miroku slamming into her without ceremony. All of his excitement and longing were in that thrust and Kagome knew this was more than just their habitual union. She knew, without a doubt that he was testing her – not her loyalty, no but the reality of her. He was making sure she was there, was there freely, was there for him and him alone.

Between the sensation of flesh on flesh and the emotion behind his possession of her, Kagome nose-dived over the edge in a flurry of cried pleas. How had she missed this feeling of belonging? How had she not figured out that she was falling for her dark-eyed monk? Was this how he felt every time they joined?

Miroku bore down hard into Kagome, his moaning grunts almost overwhelming him. So sensitised to her fluttering walls, he had to bury his head in the crook of her neck to get the leverage he needed to bring himself to completion. Thrusting forward, Miroku spurt hot sticky strings of cum deep into his lover, his spastic flesh joining almost irretrievably with Kagome's.

The pair lay there panting as they came down, ever-so-slowly. Still joined, Miroku felt thrilling shocks jolt up his body at the feel of where they were connected. Semi-hard, he kissed Kagome all over until they were heated once again. The sheer joy of hardening while still sheathed inside of his lover was seconded only by the rapture of knowing she was here.

For a while, Miroku had been the beggar, taking what he could get and nothing more. As he thrust into Kagome with wild abandon, he rejoiced in the simple yet profound act.

Finally! Miroku had it all.