For a moment, Kagome forgot how to breathe. 

With one last parting scrape over the clothed, throbbing tip of her sex, his clawed fingers returned to his side. Eyes fixed upon her still, the demon lord reclined fully against the wall of the hut. His gaze was heavy-lidded, expectant.

Kagome licked her dry lips nervously. It was one thing to say these things to him–quite another to actually do them. Her hands fidgeted once more at the strained hem of her t-shirt, sweat from her palms dampening and wrinkling the supple cotton.

“Kagome,” Sesshoumaru prompted, showing her the barest glint of fang.

Her spine straightened, the sound of her name falling from his lips like that sending a shock of pleasure straight to her core. Her eyes seized upon him–tracing the angles of his sharp, chiseled features, drinking in the vibrancy of his markings, studying the reflection of herself in his own brilliant, metallic gaze. He was beyond handsome, beyond beautiful–beyond every human convention or description.

He defied them all.

She leaned in a little closer, her swollen lower lips parting around the central seam of her jeans, distending the thick denim there. She wondered if he could see between the shadows of her thighs, discern the bulging outline of her sex with that supernatural vision of his. Her nipples tightened at the thought, hardening to pebbles as her exposed nerve endings chafed further against the seam, and Kagome knew he could see that much, at least–even she herself could see her nipples peaking through her shirt, pushing past the padding of her bra.

His roiling aura betrayed his impatience, lashing faintly against her like the twitch of a cat’s tail. He was about to speak again when both of her hands started to rise with her top in tow, revealing a creamy swath of her skin. His unearthly eyes were riveted on her, and she felt their keen focus stronger than she’d ever felt any of Hojo’s fervent caresses. Her flat stomach tightened, her lower half giving a fateful thrum.

Sesshoumaru wasn’t touching her now–even when he’d touched her earlier, it had only been through her clothes. But still Kagome felt herself teetering on the verge of climax. The embodiment of male perfection wanted to see her naked–the sexiest creature in the universe was lusting after her.

Kagome’s mind and body reeled, grappling to come to terms with this fact, as her shirt climbed slowly higher–

“Aye, he’s awake,” Kaede announced curtly from the doorway, the heavy curtain swinging aside. “The imp spoke true.”

The young miko went rigid, her hands dropping the front of her shirt like a hot coal. A dark cloud passed over Sesshoumaru’s otherwise implacable features. Kagome knew all too well what that particular look of his meant–murder.

“Have ye eaten yet today?” Kaede blustered on obliviously, striding over and prodding at the hearth.

“Ah, no, Baa-chan–not yet,” Kagome replied, her voice coming out rusty and strained.

“Fetch me some water, then, child, and I’ll fix ye a meal,” the elder miko stated with her usual brisk efficiency. “Sesshoumaru-sama is not the only one who must needs recover his strength.”

“O-okay, Baa-chan. Thanks.”

Rising unsteadily to her feet, Kagome snatched up the empty water jug still resting on the floor nearby. As she turned to leave, Sesshoumaru caught her eye darkly–meaningfully. Their weighty glance exchanged, Kagome exited the hut, cradling the clay jug to her chest.

This, she knew, was far from over.

Inuyasha © Rumiko Takahashi