Moon Dark, Star Bright

Warnings: NC17 Minor, NC

Pairing: Sess/Rin

=#= Demonlover =#=

Sesshoumaru smiled. Her naiveté was so cute.

“Come here,” he said. It was not quite a command. Not quite
a request. She came.

Innocently, trustingly into within his reach. He pulled her
between his thighs, her of a height with him sitting.

Large, bright, dark eyes looked into his jaded golden ones.
Sweet anticipation lit her face from within. She expected something good from
him.

He smiled. It was not a nice smile, but she, innocent,
missed its edge.

His hands came up to her slender, young shoulders, their
weight deceptively light.

“Who do you belong to?” he asked.

“You!” she answered promptly and without fear.

His smile darkened, sharpened. “Yes,” he hissed.

He brushed dark strands of her hair aside, out of her face.
The gesture was gentle.

“Do you love me Rin?” he asked.

“For ever and ever!” she piped happily.

He leaned forward, his face a scant inch from hers. “No
matter what?” he queried.

She nodded. She gulped, his nearness making her giddy.

“Good,” he purred. He jerked her forward, his lips coming
down hard on hers. He drew back, liking the bruised, plump look of her pink
lips. He tipped her chin up with one clawed finger, exposing the length of her
pale throat. Delicately, ever so controlled, he sank his teeth into the
vulnerable, tender skin underneath her chin. Ever so minutely, he allowed
himself a taste of her blood, of her flesh. He nuzzled along her collarbone,
his other hand pushing one side of her kimono off of her shoulder. Pale,
pubescent flesh was bared before him. He buried his fingers within the dark
silken strands of her hair, pulling her head back, arching her breasts towards
him. She whimpered. It was a beautiful sound.

He nipped, ever so lightly, the top of her small breast.

“Sesshoumaru-sama?” she asked shakily, her voice wavering
with worry.

Against her flesh, he smiled. It was more a bearing of fang
than a grin. His hot breath bathed her nipple. She shivered within his arms, a
fine tremor through her small form. He touched tongue to the turgid tip,
wetting it, no more. Then he blew, cool and moist, and she shivered again. He
covered the puckered tip with his mouth, suckling her with long, deep pulls of
his mouth.

Sweetly, like a kitten, she cried out for him.

He hardened; his erection hanging full and ripe between his
legs. A shudder went through him.

He pressed her to her knees, her frightened and confused
gaze glittering with the beginning of her tears. Tousled hair fell haphazardly
around her face as the first blush of arousal heated her cheeks. She was
beautiful.

“Open your mouth,” he instructed.

Trembling, she complied.

With hands that shook, he freed his arousal and pressed the
head against her lips. His large hands cupped her small skull between them. He
pushed himself into her mouth, down her throat and watched as the first tears
rolled down her cheeks and fell like diamonds.

She whimpered around his engorged flesh, her eyes
beseeching.

He smiled, but she took no comfort in it.

He pumped himself into her, his perfect breath coming out
haggard and harsh.

So sweet. So sharp, her little teeth. Hot, so hot. Tight,
clenched, so that he had to use force.

His eyes bled to red.

He withdrew from her mouth, pushed her down on her back, and
slipped a clawed finger between the folds that hid her small opening. He tried
to insert the tip of his finger. He chuckled darkly as he had to make his
finger fit.

Hot. Tight. Perfect.

He palmed his erection, positioned the head against her
flesh, and tightened his grip on her slim hips. With a grunt that turned into a
groan of tortured pleasure, he thrust himself into her, seating himself to the
hilt.

She cried out and struggled against the tearing, aching pain
inside of her. He smiled and pinned her easily beneath him.

“Hush little one,” he murmured sardonically.

Then he began to move within her. Her sheath squeezed him
like a fist; his senses darkened until all he could see was a haze of black and
red, all he could hear were her small whimpers of protest.

Beautiful. Perfect. His.

He slammed into her one last time, then pulled free,
spilling his seed like a hot, white burst over her belly. He looked down, at
the hot, red blood between her legs, at the opaque glistening spatters of his
cum. He smirked; completely satisfied.

Bending down, he licked her clean, loving the salty tang and
slick, smooth taste of her skin, sweat, blood, tears, and sex.

“Mine,” he purred possessively as she whimpered and shivered
in response.

He smiles. “I love you too, Rin, and I promise to never let
you go.”

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