Disclaimer: I don't own InuYasha but I do own the plot of this story and the original characters that may appear in it.

Nothing special just a mindless story that popped in my head one day. Just heavy fluff and of course a very graphic lemon, very erotic and hot. Those offended by please do not read.

The background of the story would be something between these lines: Rin makes the decision to return to Sesshomaru's side and move in his castle as a grown up, somewhere around 18 years old, and she realize she is in love with him after a series of events that involve other women and those things make her decide to tell him about her feelings while in his chamber... what happens next… well you have to read to find out.

Oh and by the way let's just assume he does not know of every move she makes nor can he smell everything.

"You don't even know me," Sesshomaru said. He clasped her shoulders lightly, pushing her back against the tapestry-covered wall. They were in one of Sesshomaru's private chambers.

Rin touched his face. "I know you." He shook his head in patent disbelief. She was young and he had befriended her in a place populated by predators. Of course, she thought she loved him.

"I am... honored by your words."

The gentle comedown he had hoped to give her did not have the desired effect. She smiled tenderly. "I should hope so. I don't give my heart easily." One fingertip swept along his lower lip. "You have a beautiful mouth."

"Stop that!" He sounded angry, which he was. "You're mistaken. You must be. How can you give a demon and a killer, a man you don't even know your love?"

"Had I any choice perhaps I would heed your savage advice," she murmured, "but my heart, graceless thing, did not ask my opinion. It loved without first seeking my counsel."

"You speak too sweetly and wake a craving for more such words." Such sweet words that I would give anything to believe.

He dared not move. Her hand brushed down his chin and traced his jaw, trailing a lightning strike of sensation. She covered the pulse beating at the base of his throat with her palm.

"You think so? It is you who make me a poetess then. And I thank Kami who gave me so canny a tongue. But I must return the compliment yet complain, for, in truth, my lord, your tongue has its own sweet tricks that I do crave to learn." Her other hand had moved up, unbuttoning his haori and pulling loose the strings tying it.

"How can I get you to divulge your secrets? I would recite you more poetry but, my lord," she whispered, "longing takes my breath away." He groaned. His eyes shut. Her hand burrowed under his shirt, stroking his naked chest. It was all too much. With a growl, he wrapped his arms around her waist. He lifted her slight form, imprisoning her between the wall and his body. His mouth slanted over hers, his tongue thrust between her lips, seeking and finding the sweet, warm interior and her own eager tongue. She denied him nothing, either by word or act.

He swept her loose kimono from her shoulder, baring one of her breasts to his greedy eyes. He cupped the firm pale globe gently. She whimpered with pleasure, pushing the tightening nipple against his palm. Hungry, desperate and half-dazed with the unexpected heat of her response, he lowered his mouth and swirled his tongue against the silky brown aureole. Her hands came to life on his shoulders, biting deep into his muscles as her gasp set the ripe flesh to jiggling against his tongue. He suckled greedily, sweeping a hand under her buttock and lifting her higher against the wool-softened wall. The rich, crisp cloth of her kimono crumpled in his fists. Silk drifting over his arms. A creamy smooth thigh slid beneath his hand.

"Yes," she whispered rapturously, her eyelids fluttering half shut. "Please. Yes."

"Yes," he echoed, his lips sliding to the outer arc of her breast. He would drown in her physical response.

"Oh! Please. Don't stop," she pleaded when he sought a less urgent pace and he, both supplicant and sovereign, gladly complied. He rucked her kimono up about her waist, inhaling sharply when he felt the warmth of her mons press tight against him, separated from her nakedness only by his hakama's thin material. Instinctively, he thrust against her. Her mouth parted, revealing the erotic unevenness of her front teeth. He rolled his hips and her thighs fell apart.

"Make love to me," she said.

Love.

Kami. Yes, he wanted to make love to her, to love her, to give her some of the physical pleasure he knew this act could bring and in doing so find for himself that deeper… something he suddenly had cause to believe existed.

He had to think but he couldn't, not with her dampness seeping through his pants and her gaze clouded by passion and inviting. He tore his mouth from hers. She made a sound of protest. Lightly, he clasped her chin, turning her face away and resting his forehead on the wall beside her head. She took his free hand and fitted it to her mouth.

"I want you." A siren call. She didn't know what she asked. Once, a decade earlier, she tried to save his life risking her own life in the process. He wouldn't ever again be the cause of her anguish or pain. He couldn't bed her and risk ruining her future. While he put no great store in virginity, most men did. And Rin, had nothing else to offer a groom but her pure untried body. She herself had once told him it was the only thing of value she owned.

If only she would tell him to stop …But she didn't. She nipped the tender pads at the base of each finger before sucking on his thumb's knuckle.

"You have the most beautiful hands. I want to know what artistry they might work on my flesh." Good intentions faded. His clasp on her chin became a caress.

"You don't want this. It isn't going to lead to some blessed union, Rin," he rasped out. "I have nothing of value. Nothing at all to offer you."

"You have your name," she suggested in a whisper as fearful as it was hesitant. Kami, yes. His name. "I assure you, my name would be no recommendation to you." She came back with a reply at once. "I don't care."

"I do! Damn it, don't you think I want to feel you under me, around me?" he ground out. "I want to drink your cries, I want to make you scream with pleasure. I want to take you. Now. Here." One of her long thighs climbed up his leg and hooked over his hip. She rocked her pelvis against him. Desire careened through him, splintering his resolve.

"You can't. We can't." His breath had grown thick in his chest; his body burgeoned with need. She tipped her upper body away from his and yanked his haori open. Her expression was heated with desire, fixed with determination. She started at his throat and worked down his chest, her fingers flowing over his pectorals, her nails raking the hard skin. He held his breath.

Her hand closed around his manhood. He jerked at the contact, impaled by want, torn by conflicting desires. A rumbling growl issued from deep in his throat.

"You're a virgin," he panted, his eyes hot and accusing. It was an act of masochism holding himself still like this, fighting to retain his self-control. Her hand tightened into a silky fist and slid down over his throbbing shaft. Sweat shimmered on his forehead and above his upper lip. His body trembled. She leaned back, still holding him, and whispered, "No, I'm not."

Her words shredded what was left of his resistance. It ought to make no difference. He still had nothing to give her, no future, no name, no recompense for a childhood destroyed. But if he had nothing to give her, at least he couldn't hurt her by taking her virginity away. "Please," she said, her hips rocking against him in a thought-destroying rhythm. She released him, pulling his head down to hers, her mouth open and seeking, the flavor of desperation on her tongue and in the tightness with which her arms wrapped around him. He made no further attempts at chivalry. He reached between them and wrenched the cloth away from his straining manhood. Then he found her opening and pushed his finger into the sleek cleft, found her ready, wet and heated. He moved his finger inside of her, testing, stimulating.

Her interior muscles clamped tight about him, a little sob—pleasure? pain?—fanned his ear as she nestled her face against his throat. He withdrew his finger and found the nubbin hidden between the plump folds of her sex. He flicked it gingerly, eliciting from her a breathy series of gasps. He prayed for strength and plucked again, in short, rhythmic pulls. She keened, trying to mount higher on him, her shoes falling to the floor with a dull thud, as her feet climbed the backs of his calves.

"Little one," he urged. "Let me pleasure you. Let me show you." Her hips surged forward to comply in a rough, bucking rhythm. She moved in gorgeous abandonment, her head thrown back, her hair streaming past her hips, her arms taut with strain. He licked the salty moisture from the base of her throat. His own arousal was near a fever pitch now, contained only by his need to see her climax, to be fully aware of each second of her crisis and to revel in the knowledge that he'd brought her there.

"Please!" she sobbed. His hand worked deftly between her legs, his gaze growing hot and fiercely possessive. He did not have to wait for too long. Her thighs clamped around his hips, her toes flexed with exertion. She arched, her spine curving over his arm, her kimono piled around her waist, her breasts bare in the soft shadows.

"Oh, please. I can't … I can't …" "Yes. Yes. And yes," he murmured, stroking the damp hair from her face as he drove her toward fulfillment. Her gaze found his, focused.

"Sesshomaru!"

He refused to think. He would not think. He would just feel. And then her fierce pants dissolved into a high cry of effort that broke into the sweetest sound he'd ever heard. He positioned himself and pushed into her heated core. Her shallow pants of repletion became a single sob. She was tight. Some beast within purred with the evidence of her relative innocence. He pushed harder. Her arms tightened convulsively around his throat.

"Mine," he intoned, surging slowly forward. She moved, not in unison with him, but as though to avoid the deeper coupling he sought. He hesitated. He set his hands beneath her thighs, spreading her legs wider and with one long thrust came up against a barrier. Her maidenhead. He clenched his teeth in a feral snarl, near violent with frustration, desire building to a near explosive pitch in his loins. He trembled. He swore.

"You're a bloody virgin! Aren't you?"

She was crying.

"Aren't you?"

"Yes!"

He jerked his swollen member out of her, heedless of his roughness until he heard her gasp of pain. He looked down. Her brilliant eyes were filled with despair. Tears streamed down her face. With a groan he wrapped his hand around the back of her head and dragged her into his arms.

Warmth flowed over her. Slowly, Rin opened her eyes. A hazy glow filled the room. Dawn had finally come.

"Rin, wake up." She turned her head, certain she was dreaming. She was not. Sesshomaru stood over her, the gentle sunlight revealing each harsh and beloved feature. No anger remained in his expression, all the rage was gone. he knew he had lost to her tenderness and love. She struggled to rise, heedless of her nakedness beneath the bed-sheets "Gently, little one." He grasped her shoulders, sitting down on the bed beside her and pushing her against the pillows. Relief flowed through her and hard on its heels, gratitude. She had thought he would never speak to her again, yet here he was.

She turned her head and kissed the back of his hand where it still lightly cupped her shoulder. Without hesitation he wrapped his long fingers around the back of her head and brought her mouth to his. Surprise briefly touched her. But then his lips moved over hers and she couldn't think beyond the moment. This was her beloved who embraced her, kissed her, caressed her. This was Sesshomaru.

With a sob, she wrapped her arms around his throat, deepening the kiss. His hands moved up and tilted her face, gently urging her mouth to open. She complied and his tongue plundered deep within, finding hers and mating with it. Her head spun, her body burned bright as the sun outside.

"You're mine, Rin," he whispered against her mouth. He pulled back and stared into her eyes, ferocity flickering to life in the amber depths of his own. " You are mine, Rin. You always belonged to me, I see that now."

Her embrace tightened. It was enough of an answer. He eased her onto her back, following her down. His body had been her anchor before, a rock she'd clung to as he'd held her upright, buffeted by a tempest of sensations as he'd pleasured her. Now she learned the weight and breadth of him covering her and gloried in it. His fingers skated lightly over her collarbone and found the pulse at the base of her throat. He measured the rapid beat with his lips, trailing lower, just above the line of the blanket. She arched upward, wanting more, wanting what he'd given her just a few hours before, wanting what she thought she would never know again. He brushed the linen away, exposing her breasts to his hungry gaze. He inhaled sharply. "I want to feel your skin naked against mine."

She nodded. She could do nothing else; her voice was lost. He stripped his haori off over his shoulders, the movement feline and graceful, the muscles cloaking his laddered ribs sliding smoothly beneath velvety skin. His chest and belly were as hard and muscular as her caresses had described them, his arms long and powerful-looking, capped by thick dense muscle.

Her gaze traveled lower. She caught her breath. His hakama were tight and the faded cloth hugged the big bulge of his maleness closely, clearly revealing his arousal. Her eyes fluttered shut remembering the feel of him pressed inside her. It had ached. Now that ache had returned but this time it seemed only the instrument that had then caused the ache could now ease it.

"Rin?" She opened her eyes, swallowed hard. He was watching her intently, his expression taut. "Are you…" He tailed off and speared a hand through his hair. "Rin, I would not frighten you." She reached for him. He dropped to one knee, sliding his arms beneath her and lifting her clear off the bed, crushing her to his naked flesh. He inhaled sharply. "Kami, you feel good." She twisted in his embrace, dragging her nipples across his chest. The sensation was carnal, the sweet abrasion causing the peaks of her breasts to throb. She rubbed them again in the soft skin on his chest, assuaging the ache. He clenched his teeth, his eyes narrowing with pleasure. She threaded her fingers through his hair and pulled his head close, drinking in the scent of him, the crisp, silky texture of his sliver hair between her fingers.

"You are beautiful, too beautiful, and I want you too much," he whispered, and she realized that he worried he would hurt her. She didn't. He had shown her the most exquisite care, given her profound pleasure, and taught her passion. She had taken all he had to give and offered nothing in return. Except her love, and that she gave in abundance. Now she wanted to please him, to show him her love in the most intimate way possible. She gripped his upper arms, reveling in the feel of his muscles bunching beneath the clear, smooth skin. She pushed. He was heavy. She would never be able to dislodge him by her strength alone and yet he shifted at once, his gaze quiet and askance, allowing her whatever she would have of him. Or not have.

She pushed again, harder, and he acquiesced to the unspoken command by rolling on his back, catching her to keep her from falling on top of him. But that's where she wanted to be. She snuggled down, lying fully on him, her breasts flattened against his chest, her hair a shimmering curtain flowing on either side of his rib cage. She lowered her head and kissed his flat belly. It jerked into taut delineation. His hands, barely clasping her shoulders, tightened painfully. She opened her mouth and flicked the heated skin with the tip of her tongue. "Rin!" The choked word came out as a warning. Her longing preempted his caution. She curled her fingers beneath the waist of his hakama, tugging the cloth down over his narrow hips. His sex sprang free. Touch alone had not prepared her for the sight of him, big, swollen, and rigid. She raised her eyes in apprehension and found Sesshomaru watching her. Instantly, her fears disappeared.

"I won't hurt you," he said hoarsely, trying to pull her up. She would have none of it. She twisted out of his grip and scooted farther down. Lightly, she clasped him between her palms. His hips bucked slightly in response. She lowered her head, placing a fleeting kiss on the thick tip. He made a throaty sound, half anguish, half pleasure. It was all the impetus she needed. She opened her lips over his sex and took him into her mouth. He pulsed, silky and smooth against her tongue—His hands swooped down to bracket her face.

"Rin you don't—" Whatever else he had been about to say was lost in a shuddering groan. Carnal satisfaction flooded her. This strong, broad demon, this huge male, trembled with the pleasure she gave him. She reveled in the power. Her ability to inspire his desire was intoxicating. She glazed the head of his sex with her tongue. His fists twisted in her hair, his knuckles shivering against her temples in his efforts to control the building lust she drew forth with each long pull of her mouth. She did not want his restraint; she wanted his passion. She tasted the salty essence, drawing him deeper—

With a low, guttural roar, he grabbed her upper arms and hauled her up and over him, holding her upper body suspended above him. His biceps hardened, veins roping thickly under the tanned skin.

"My turn." He lifted his head to her breast and opened his mouth wide over her nipple, sucking the velvety peak deep into his mouth. She gasped, her hips undulated instinctively against his thick staff. Liquid warmth seeped from between her legs.

He released her nipple and clamped his big hands on either hip, repositioning her higher on his body. She bowed backward, her hands seeking purchase and finding it on his own hips, her swinging curtain of hair lightly teasing his thighs. He pressed his mouth to the soft flesh of her inner thigh and nibbled higher, closer to the jointure— Her eyes flew open. He'd covered her mound with his mouth, and was sucking softly. His tongue swept deep within the folds, grazing the nubbin buried within, robbing her of cohesive thought.

Lightning raced along her nerves, spun behind the black shield of her eyelids, taunting her with the promise of more. She moaned, no longer able to tell what he did or how. Her whole body was caught in a vortex of driving need, the pitch to the crescendo building within her with painful intensity …

The crisis broke. Her cry rose to a soundless keen as the climax engulfed her, narrowing all sensation down to one essential point. She tensed, impaled on the very apex of pleasure, rocking slightly until the feel of his tongue, flickering lightly over her womanhood, became too acute.

She shivered, drew back. Gently he shifted and lowered her to the mattress, covering her with his body. He came into her on a long, smooth thrust, breaking through the thin barrier of her maidenhead without hesitation. The pain was sharp and brief, supplanted by a quickening need. He stopped deep within her. Her eyes fluttered open. He was watching her, his breathing harsh, his pale skin sparkling. He reached down and lifted first one then the other of her hands, and set them on his shoulders. "Hold on to me. Cling to me. Want me." And then he moved.

The pace he set was hard and brutal, his thrusts deep. He stretched and filled her, yet still she wanted, needed. Her recalcitrant hands strayed from his shoulders and swept down the muscular straining back to his taut buttocks. She dug her fingers into the hard round muscle, wrapped her thighs around his hips and tilted her pelvis in ancient welcome, greedily absorbing the aggressiveness of his possession.

Climax after climax seized her and carried her like a scrap on a tidal wave, peaking and crashing, wild and tumultuous and exquisite. Suddenly Sesshomaru tensed, hard and potent. He braced himself on his arms, and with a deep growl, pushed deep within her. He held himself still, his body shuddering with his release. When it was over he sank down on her, heavy with repletion. He slid his arms beneath her, cradling her tenderly. She started to rise. "Stay still, Rin," he said softly. "Rest with me. It isn't only sex I would have but its sweet aftermath, too. Stay." She allowed him to draw her back down to his side and wrap his long arms around her. She laid her head on his chest and listened to the low, deep beat of his heart. And there, against all chance, she fell asleep.

And this would be the end. What happens from this moment on I will leave it to your imagination. I just wanted to offer you a hot moment between these two. Hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

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