Just a Game

He hadn't thought she'd actually come when he told her to leave the kids with Kagome and meet him in the forest tonight. But she had.

He had gotten so far as to begin to bind her hands and start to explain what he had in mind when she got angry.

"Miroku, I'm not going to play some stupid… sex game with you!" she sputtered, yanking her hands, unconsciously tightening the rope that tied them uncomfortably together, away from him. It was too late: he'd already looped the rope over a handy tree branch. One good yank had her hands over her head. He knotted the rope carefully to the same branch, making sure he stood a safe distance away.

Smiling despite the angry look she was sending his way, Miroku had returned, more rope at the ready. He had chosen this meeting place with care; it was simply a matter of getting Sango to go along with it peacefully.

She'd fought then, embarrassed at the thought of being captured and tied and 'ravished,' even if it was by her husband. But he'd caught her eventually, and now he stepped back to survey his work.

Her yukata had slipped open, revealing that she wore nothing underneath it this night. And her look of outrage combined with her disheveled hair… Her stance angrily rigid even as her arms were bound safely above her head, her legs spread wide and secured to roots so sturdy that not even she could break free… Not easily anyway.

She was delectable.

Furious, but delectable.

He stepped closer, running a hand down from her shoulder along her delicious curves, coming to rest on one breast. His fingers teased the nipple until it grew hard. She shivered.

"It's just a game. Don't take it so seriously." His hand slipped lower.

Even though she was angry, her folds were hot and slick with moisture. He grinned.

"You like this, don't you?"

She shook her head, but the sudden movement of her hips, pressing eagerly against his hand, gave her away.

His grin widened, and he leaned in for a kiss; he was almost certain that she would not bite him. He stroked his fingers between her legs, sometimes pausing to rub at her pearl, other times slipping one or two full inside of her, and sometimes simply enjoying the feel of her wetness. She groaned against his lips, straining against the ropes that bound her.

Miroku was pleased to see that all the knots held, even against his lovely slayer's strength.

He kept up the movements of the hand between her legs, varying his pace from fast to slow and back again to evoke whatever response struck his fancy – pleasure and frustration both.

He kissed his way along her neck, across her collarbone, down her chest to the swell of her breast, all the while bringing his other hand up from where it had been – subconsciously – gripping her butt. He teased one nipple mercilessly with his mouth and the other between adept fingers, until Sango whimpered with need.

Moving slowly lower, and reluctantly away from her breasts, he knelt before her and lapped at her exposed slit.

"Oh, gods… Miroku," she murmured, pressing toward him as he ran his tongue along her folds, bucking her hips hard as he swirled it around and over the sensitive clit.

Again and again and again, seeking nothing more than to send her over the edge.

Suddenly she cried out loudly, wordlessly, and convulsed as she came. He lapped greedily at her fluids, reveling in the taste of her, licking more gently as spasms slowed to gentle trembling. Satisfied with his efforts, he pulled away and looked up at her.

She was beautiful. It was worth the aching cock and the frustration of unfulfilled arousal just to see her like this. But…

She kept her gaze downward, refusing to even look at him.

Finally, he had to say something. "See? That wasn't so bad." He stood up, brushing stray grains of dirt from his robes.

She glared at him. There was no mercy in her gaze, not even the slightest allowance that she may have enjoyed his little game; unless he counted the flush of orgasm, which still tinted her cheeks and chest with pink. "Are you going to let me down now?"

He shrugged. "I used knots that you would be able to undo. You should be able to get down on your own."

With that, Miroku turned to walk away (though he would later swear he never actually intended to leave her there like that, only to further invoke her ire, as there was very little he considered to be sexier than an angry Sango – a sentiment upon which he would gladly expound at length, much to her embarrassment) and found himself suddenly falling.

As he hit the ground, kicked squarely in the ass – and hard – by a foot she had somehow managed to free without him noticing, he was vaguely aware of Sango slipping free of the other ropes and charging after him. He had barely made it to his feet again before she slammed into him, sending them both tumbling to the ground. Sango, of course, ended up on top.

"I'll make you pay for this," she snarled, pinning him to the ground.

He couldn't resist one last quip: "Want to tie me up?"