Disclaimer: Bleach is Kubo Tite's property

Warning: smutty threesome lime with very little plot; reluctant sex

Credit: Fanfic writing is fun, but when you find yourself a wonderful beta reader, fanfic writing becomes euphorically blissful; thank you very much Koi No Mega Lover for beta reading this fanfic.

Author's Note: This is the sequel for another fanfic called "The Throne of Hueco Mundo", though there's no harm in reading it independently.

In-Between

'Let me dream of happiness; of peace and joviality; of games and sweet treats; of robots and spaceships; of family and friends…'

'Of him.'

'Kurosaki-kun…'

To go or not to go … that was not even a question. If she chose the latter option, surely one of Aizen's numerous underlings would brutally drag her to their master's bedroom. He had summoned her, and, in Hueco Mundo, each of Aizen's words was made to be obeyed.

Inoue Orihime sighed as she came out of the bathtub. The pain from that afternoon's activity had not fully subsided. Earlier, in his throne room, the ruler of Hueco Mundo had turned her into a woman. True, she had lost her childlike disposition and sprightly manner once she set foot on Hueco Mundo, yet she did not lose her maidenhood until today.

As the towel rubbed the glistening droplets of water on her skin, Orihime recalled Aizen's hands caressing her through and through. Tracing her skin where Aizen had touched her, she wondered how the fingers that had shed so much blood could give her pleasure she had never dared to imagine before … how his foreign intrusion fleeced chastity out of her.

Orihime shook her head in order to dismiss this very thought. She was a prisoner who was obliged to follow orders. That was all she needed to be concerned about.

For now.

Her room was unlocked; Aizen must have instructed it to be so. As the hours of the night crept by, she walked down the long corridors of Las Noches, passing several passageways in her course. When she arrived at Aizen's room, her hand was poised to knock the grand, lofty door, and yet, she couldn't bring herself to perform the deed.

The figure of a substitute shinigami with vivid orange hair swinging an overly large sword once again visualized in her mind. She took a deep breath and finally managed to tap her trembling fingers to the cold surface of the door.

"Come in." Aizen's voice was audible from the other side of the door.

No matter how welcoming Aizen's voice was, it did not free her from the fetters that bound her ankles—the invisible fetters called 'fear'. In fact, these fetters of fear encumbered her more with every step she took.

Inside, like any other room in Las Noches, everything was white, accented only by a few selected lines of black. Aizen was sitting behind a desk, but he was not alone. His adjutant, Ichimaru Gin was sitting directly opposite him. Both were fully clothed.

'So he wants me here for a discussion,' Orihime thought with slight relief.

How wrong she was!

Gin approached her with his signature grin. Once he was within an arm's range, he started undressing the bewildered girl, young and naïve as she was.

'Does Aizen have a taste in voyeurism or, even worse, threesome? No! Such things only happen in books and movies, don't they?'

It was not a mere undressing scene. With each article of clothing he took off, Gin left a kiss on Orihime's exposed part, making her shiver. A few steps away from them, Aizen watched everything unfold, causing the girl to quiver even more.

Moments later, Aizen rose from his chair, stripping his attire in his stride. When he finally stood a few inches away from the other two, he removed Gin's loincloth—the last piece of clothing on Gin's body. He smiled at his sleeping partner's idea of 'saving the best for last'.

The two bare ex-shinigamis interlocked each other's lips in a passionate kiss. The brown haired one was behind her, his legs brushing hers. The silver haired one was before her, his hands fondling her bosoms. Never in her life had she witnessed homosexual kissing, but right now she was trapped in between two males desiring each other.

Not long after, nonetheless, she succumbed into their strange, slightly twisted embrace. The two ex-shinigamis melted her with their touches until she yielded with her shy gasps. They spread her all over until she surrendered in reluctant moans. Her body convulsed under their ceaseless indulgence beyond the point of no return.

Below, there was Gin, who employed both slick tongue and deft fingers to do as he was pleased with her lower region, front and rear alike. Inch by inch he explored her, as though inspecting the meticulosity of a sculptural work. While she tipped her head back, there was Aizen, who greeted her desperate countenance with a sneer as he ministered his hands on her delicate body, sometimes stroking teasingly, at other times kneading vigorously. And this brought cochineal complexion to her countenance.

"Shall we move to bed?" Aizen remarked in satisfaction as he examined Orihime's expression; it was a mixture of both longing and dreading at the same time.

Gin nodded and backed away from the girl at once. Aizen, contrarily, heaved her by the waist all the way to his huge bed. There, he lay down and positioned her supinely above him. She could feel Aizen's fingers ghosting over her corporeal substance, then, the next moment, Gin joined in. He parted her legs in his grin.

'This isn't happening!'

He drank his fill of her private nectar. She shuddered.

'Am I hallucinating?'

He plunged himself into her. She trembled.

'Why does Aizen let Gin do this to me; doesn't he want an heir for his throne?'

The silver haired ex-shinigami was neither brutal nor he was merciful. But did he take her out of duty or was it his own accord?

His limbs nudged hers up; his torso pressed hers down. His mouth was grazing upon the vales of her mounds. And yet, his gaze was not fixed upon her, but the figure underneath her, casting meaningful gleams she knew she'd never be able to get. These gleams were challenging, or they might be inviting instead—she couldn't tell. Perhaps both. At any rate, Aizen responded to Gin by taking over Orihime's rear, sprawling her thighs in his tenacious journey.

'No!'

Aizen spread the cheeks of her lower region and embedded his thick column of flesh in-between them. She whimpered.

That night, the two ex-shinigamis did not only show the human girl the meaning of fright, but also the meaning of rapture. With different length of itineraries, in and out they went, culminating with double explosions within her. And at that precise moment, she discerned the immeasurable tremor of all the empyrean vault of the sky.

A delirious moan of "Sōsuke!" escaped Gin's mouth as the rigidity of his manhood gave away. Aizen removed his hands from Orihime's body to caress Gin, tracing his jawlines.

'Sōsuke? Not 'Aizen-sama'? So, that's why.'

If their relationship had reached the point where they dropped formality in private… It was not that Aizen didn't want an heir; he simply didn't mind if the child were begotten from Gin's seed. Gin's devotion to him was unquestionable; his trust, absolute; and his loyalty, ultimate. He was Aizen's beloved pet. His gorgeous beast. His most precious treasure.

'Is this how he used to treat Rangiku-san, too?'

Nevertheless, Orihime never managed to unravel the mystery of how a simple kiss on the forearm subsequent to copulation could turn her deepest despair into deepest yearning. Reposed on one side of the bed, torpid and completely spent, she glanced at the window.

'Rain. So even in this realm, with its artificial sun, there's rain too.'

'If I were the rain that binds together the earth and the sky, whom in all eternity will never mingle, would I be able to bind two hearts together?'

'Kurosa…'

"Come to think of it, that substitute shinigami boy lost his mother to a hollow in the rain, didn't he?" On her right, Aizen sniggered and landed another kiss on Orihime's tremulous lips. On her left, Gin's hand shifted to encircle her waist, "Didn't he, ero hime?"

OWARI

Ero hime = erotic princess