Through The Bone Eater's Well

Hello there everyone! This is just a silly one shot I did one night out of boredom. I plan to edit it later, because it's pretty badly done, but I thought I'd post it in the meantime. Amaya, as far as I know, is a Japanese name meaning 'night rain'.

I do not like flames. So, if you didn't like this fanfiction, by all means, you may say so, as long as you're constructive about it. Alright, I'm done with all that jibberish. Please, read and enjoy!


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


She'd gone through the Bone Eater's Well, just opposite of what her friends told her to do. What an idiot, she was. She should have known there was something about that shrine. Now, because of curiosity, she was in quite possibly the worst position of her life.
The girl lay against the dank floor of a large cave, her hands bound together by some unseen force. The place wasn't at all dark. Torches hung from the walls, warming and illuminating the place. A large collection of furs sat in a pile across from her; it looked so much more comfortable than where she lay now.

She was a small girl, really. 5'3", 120 pounds, long mousy brown hair, with pale skin and dark emerald eyes. She was short, scrawny, weak, and her hair always frizzed. Why anyone would take an interest in kidnapping such a person was beyond her. Though, this situation didn't 'always' involve sexual intentions. She sighed inwardly and suddenly felt full of herself, not to mention frightened. She tried to swallow, but simply coughed against the strip of cloth that gagged her. The cotton was drying her mouth so badly. She would have unknotted the damned thing, but as her wrists were bound, her arms also stayed lying over her head; she couldn't seem to move them.

The only way she could describe her kidnapper was as a devastatingly handsome ... demon. She then rolled her eyes at such a silly thought. There was no such thing as demons! His hair was white as snow, reaching down to his knees, and his eyes, oh his eyes. Soft, but bleak, honey-colored eyes. He had the strangest marks on his face, were they tattoos? A blue crescent adorned the center of his forehead and two differently colored markings across each cheek. Strangest looking man. He was unbelievably intimidating, but still so very handsome.

He stepped into her field of vision and her worry grew. "You must be uncomfortable." Was all he said. His tone was flat and impassive. He knelt down and wrapped one arm about her waist, bringing her to her feet with ease. There was a moment, when she inelegantly collided into his chest, that their eyes locked. Her cheeks flushed with red, and if it weren't for the strip of cloth tied around her head to keep her quiet, she was sure her lip would have quivered, as they always would when she was flustered.
As easily as he’d picked her up, he'd let her go, and she fell back against the pallet of furs. She squirmed to a sitting position and managed to spit out her gag on the way up.

"What is your name?" She choked out between nervous sporadic breaths. Wait, wasn't she the prisoner? She had no right to do the talking. Well, too late, anyhow.

"Sesshoumaru." He answered simply. She felt her face flush once again. His name sounded as deviant as he looked.
"What am I here for?" There she went again, asking the questions. This man, Sesshoumaru, had two swords tucked into his long yellow sash. She hadn't noticed them until he unsheathed the first. She cursed to herself mentally, feeling that perhaps now was the time to take her own advice and keep her mouth shut. That was, of course, if he allowed her to survive for a little longer.

The demon noticed her body stiffen as he drew his weapon. He watched her from the corner of his sight. His expression didn't change; it hadn't since the moment he took her.

"Does this frighten you, girl?" He questioned plainly as he swiftly pointed the tip of the blade to her throat. Her body language admitted all; she was frightened out of her wits. There was a short pause; her heart dare not make a sound. "You needn't worry. This sword can't kill you." With that, he propped the weapon against the wall to rest, along with its sheath. The girl let out a bewildered sigh, and then opened her mouth as he held his next sword.

"And that one?" He didn't answer, but simply propped it up beside his first weapon. Did she just see him smirk? She pursed her lips at this and mentally reminded herself not to ask again.

He turned and approached her. She felt so small compared to him while he loomed over her for that long and awkward moment. He eased to his knees gracefully and she froze. Sesshoumaru crawled her way until she instinctively leaned back, trying to keep her distance. He’d already predicted her reaction, and it worked splendidly because now he was hovering merely inches above her on all fours. The poor girl couldn't be any more frozen than she was this very moment. Her face held a great amount of fear, and her unblinking eyes remained locked on his.

"Do I frighten you, girl?" He questioned as he easily untied the cloth loosely wrapped around her neck.

"Amaya..." She offered, her voice low and cautious. Sesshoumaru nearly chuckled at the girl’s name. He abruptly leaned forward and she flinched. His sensitive nose inhaled her scent at the base of her throat; he could almost hear her heart pounding. She did smell like the rain, perhaps her name was fitting.

"Do I frighten you, Amaya?" She suddenly shook her head. His face remained unreadable. Sesshoumaru lifted his hand from the plush pile of fur to hook a sharp claw beneath the collar of her shirt. With a quick and easy jerk, her shirt tore in two. Amaya swallowed and blinked furiously, turning her head to one side as her cheeks burned. A red padded satin bra was what laid beneath what used to be her top. He quickly tore at that, as well. She bit her lip to keep from reprimanding the man. She paid forty dollars for that thing!

His clawed hand gently brushed over her left breast. The girl sucked in her breath, a bit surprised by his choice in touch. Her nipple hardened and the dog demon let out a low groan of amusement. Her other did the same as soon as he brushed his lip against its supple flesh. He lightly flicked her free nipple with the tip of his clawed finger and she too let out a groan; one of pleasure.
He continued this until he caught that familiar scent females produced when in heat; he'd started out rather well.

Amaya bit her lip and let her head fall back, arching her back on instinct. She was getting wet. He nipped and flicked at her, seeming to know how to work her gears. She tried to swallow, but only let out a small cough. God, her mouth was dry.

Sesshoumaru leaned up to look down at her. His hair cascaded past his shoulders, forming a curtain around the girl. She felt hidden, which made her feel a little less vulnerable. His lips found hers, his tongue slipping past her teeth without hesitation. Gracefully, he rested his body against hers, forming against her in a way that heated her only more.

Her hands roam, fumbling through his robes, unraveling ties, armor and sash. These things tumbled off to the side, and soon, as he leaned back, his robe fell open. The sight of his chiseled features had her licking her lips, and her fingers traveled from his chest to his hip, where below, clothing still remained. Wait, when did the binding spell let her go?

Sesshoumaru shook off his robe and leaned down, trailing his inexpressive lips across her trembling stomach. He'd found the buttons keeping her pants fastened, and carelessly, he plucked them off, one by one and swiftly yanked the article from her limbs. Well, there goes an entire outfit.

Her fervent scent quickly grew more compelling, and then he took in the sight of her soaked undergarment. He smirked mockingly at the girl, and she tried her best to seem unabashed. The garment was removed and her most private part revealed. He brushed his hand against her hairless region and her hips twitched in anticipation.

His tongue touched her lightly, tracing it against her lips until he found a deeper, more sensitive part of her. Amaya gasped, surprised and aroused. Her hips impulsively moved against his working mouth, her timidity melting away with every stroke of his tongue.
She tasted incredible. His tongue traced around the source of her wetness. He lapped it up, nearly drinking her in. Her scent both overwhelmed and thrilled him.

"More," he mumbled against her. "Give me more." His tongue traveled back to the core of her sensation, ever so gently massaging, drawing lazy circles around her supple, wet flesh. Amaya already sounded out of breath, her chest heaving in an uneven rhythm to the sporadic breaths she gave. He was hitting just the right spot, and she could scarcely take it much longer. His lips covered her swelling heat and he sucked. His actions were agonizingly gentle, yet forceful enough for her to respond quite audibly.

He’d succeeded in his goal for what he’d demanded and keenly tasting the spoils of pleasure. He couldn't get enough of that taste, and so he continued, his tongue still working against her vigorously until she finally cried out. He groaned against her in response to her cries, elated with the result of her writhing orgasm. Amaya fell limp in the furs that were now damp from perspiration. She gasped to catch her breath, inhaling greedily and exhaling with heavy and tired sighs.

As soon as Sesshoumaru took his place back atop her, he too was naked. He kissed her deeply, passionately. The kiss surprised her; she hadn’t suspected he held a single sentimental bone in his body. Still, she kissed back, letting her emotional side take over as her hand rose to delicately touch his cheek. A strange taste, she thought. As his tongue played across hers, she soon realized what it was. That taste was her own.

Through these events, the demon had grown eager with desire for her; to fill and complete her as well as to gratify his own desires. He pressed the tip of his member against her, and she gladly and thoughtlessly parted her limbs. He pushed inside of her slowly, not yet fully inside of her. The girl beneath him was frozen, filled with a mixture of excitement and fright while she adjusted to this new sensation.

He eased inside just a fraction more, and then suddenly he slammed the rest of the way into her without a sound. Amaya however let out a pained shriek and clenched his arms, digging her fingernails into his skin so forcefully she’d nearly drawn blood. It was hardly painful for him; in fact, the feeling only excited him more. He thrashed against her now, hearing her angsty cries but ignoring them easily.

“Sesshoumaru!” She pleaded, though her tone was not one of pleasure; she was desperate for him to stop. Still, he went on, his pace forceful and steadfast. She couldn’t see, but the pain she felt made it obvious that she was bleeding. A single tear escaped from the corner of her eye as she fought to stifle her cries and smother the pain.

He didn’t stop, her breasts moved to the rhythm of his careless thrusts. He grabbed one breast and pressed the weight of his body against her, his mouth reaching for the nape of her neck to bite.

Amaya groaned this time, still in pain but that sensation started to numb. She was slowly overtaken by a warming sensation. The offensive feelings that he caused her a moment ago melted away all too quickly as she discovered something new. His actions were still rough and quick, yet somehow it was easier now. Her resistance had disappeared as soon as her pain did. She was moist again, and things suddenly felt so much better; his actions stimulated her now, which surprised her. She hadn’t given herself the chance to realize it before, but the simple feeling of him 'being' inside her was unlike anything else, it was almost a crazy notion.

She was liking it now. This warmth was spreading, creating an achy spasm. She shivered as he pounded, groped and bit. She groaned again, low and hungry. Her eyes darkened and now her teeth found 'his' flesh. She bit hard against his neck, the demon's blood trickling down the corner of her mouth.

Sesshoumaru moaned helplessly when she did this and gave her one last thrust as hard has he could. Though he was still now, she felt something different. He was pulsating inside of her. She felt this, followed by a rush of a new kind of warmth.
Her jaw unclenched from his neck, as he did the same. He lapped at her wound, his tongue touching the bloodied bite mark tenderly. She giggled quietly as she was reminded of a dog caring for an injury. Though he of course was not a dog, she thought.

He craned his head back to look her in the face. Blood colored her lips; he only scoffed and kissed her deeply. Once their lips parted, hers were clean.

He propped himself up and then slowly, he pulled himself out of her, revealing an off white substance, mixed with the slightest shade of pink.

He looked at her exhausted state and gave her a dark smirk. "You're mine now." He stated possessively. Amaya cocked a brow at this.

"Because we had sex?" He merely brushed his finger against the mark on her neck, and she flinched at the annoying sting.

"So says my mark." There was a pause, and then she tried a smile. She turned out looking a bit nervous.
The demon stood with ease and grace as usual and offered the weakened girl his hand. She took it and he brought her to her feet so very effortlessly like before. Her legs quivered, though she made an effort to brush herself off.

"Does that mean you're mine, as well?" Amaya questioned him. Sesshoumaru still had hold of her hand and he turned her palm to face his lips. As usual, he wouldn't answer her. He simply sank his teeth into her wrist.