Primitive Pleasures, a bleach fanfic

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach. Kubo Tite does.

Summary: Prequel to Primitive Instincts. A Hollow craves Shinigami once it has a taste. An Espada, who evolve from the lesser hollow, retains some of these urges. A GrimmjowxRukia one-shot of his primitive desires for her, the Shinigami. And how he first took her.

So here's the prequel. I struggled with this a lot since I rewrote it over and over but I really like the way it turned out. It's also slightly different from the first GrimmjowxRukia I've done but I had to do after all the good feedback from you wonderful readers. Enjoy. And please do review.

P.S. I love Rukia. Don't think I don't after reading this.

Special thanks to Flying Tackle for beta-reading!

And for once I'm going to be brave and post the full lemon. Please don't report me. Thanks. But I will also post it on my LJ in case I have to make changes. Or maybe cut out the lemon after two weeks of posting. Just in case. I don't know. I'm not crazy, I swear.

PRIMITIVE PLEASURES

A Prequel to Primitive Instincts

Another GrimmjowxRukia one-shot by Goku's Daughter

It's an indescribable feeling… but it feels good…

So good that you want more…

A swollen lip.

A thundering heartbeat.

A primitive pleasure.

She closed her eyes, swallowing hard when she undid the knot of the white sash at her waist. The cloth fell near her bare feet. Then another deep breath was pulled in her lungs before she pulled the black fold of her shinigami robes forward. With the same simple precision and slow speed, she pulled the other side out. She kept her head lowered, covering her closed eyes in the shadows.

A voice spoke at her hesitance. "Let it fall."

She listened, reluctantly. Like silk against silk, the black uniform slipped down her shoulders, falling into a pool around her ankles. The woman resisted a cringe, but she felt so cold, too cold to move. The embarrassment of her naked chest made her face hot, but her pride would not allow her to act so cowardly. Especially not in front of him.

Instead of fighting him back, instead of resisting, her right hand fisted tightly. Her small nails punctured her flesh in a vain attempt to make the humiliation go away. It did not work, but it helped very slightly.

"Now, come forward."

A simple step made her leg exit the black pool beneath her. Then the other followed. Her eyes still did not open, not even when she heard him sigh loudly.

"You're going to make this difficult, aren't you?" A pause. Then he licked his lips and cupped her face.

Violet eyes met azure upon such an act that confused and surprised her. He was so gentle, leaving her frozen to the spot. The shinigami braced herself for another slap, but he did not hit her.

And she did not answer him.

"I dare you to fight me. Because if you do, I will enjoy you even more." He smiled, one with hidden motives and secrets. A smile not to be trusted. "But you will enjoy it."

She shuddered. She could feel his dark power swirl around her, threatening to touch her. Prick her. Consume her.

Despite her fears, she rebuked him. "You can never truly take me. And I will not enjoy this." Those words left her mouth harshly, as if to hurt him. She, sometimes, did not have control over her sharp tongue.

But he laughed at her. A deep, throaty, arrogant laugh that made her insides bubble. His fingers drifted to her swollen lip that had bled earlier when they brawled. Now it had congealed and almost hardened. The pad of his thumb stroked the tender area, an act intended to gain her trust. His power, what made him evil and Arrancar and Espada, buffered her soft flesh, gliding almost. It was as if his power was testing the waters of her own self, her own being, of shinigami.

He smiled with teeth shining. His eyes were clear, wide and alert. He felt a small wave of the clash of their power. The smell of her, the smell of shinigami was almost too intoxicating.

Grimmjow wanted to feed.

And with slow speed, careful restraints, and eyes closed, Espada leaned down to kiss her.

Then her mind relayed what had occurred in the last few hours.

If Rukia had to describe him in only three words, she would use: arrogant, attitude, and corrupt.

Arrogant because he believed that she would just go with him.

Attitude because he thought he was all that and more.

Corrupt because he was an Espada, an evil being.

"Arrancar," she hissed, spitting at him. Such wild fire burned in her eyes and he was amused at the intensity of her orbs. The white flecks in her indigo irises seemed to shine under the golden-white light of the lamppost where he had originally found her.

"Shinigami," he said loudly, mockingly. His hand was hot against her throat, and when she wriggled to escape, he squeezed her neck and pushed her back against the brick wall of the convenience store. His head shot forward, as if he was a panther on the hunt going for the kill. Her heart was lost in her ribcage as she turned her head to evade the blow. Instead she found his mouth close to her ear. His moist, heavy breath tickled her when he slithered, "Shinigami."

Rukia shivered. Not because it was cold, but because she felt him so close, too close, and it elicited something in her core.

Then fear kicked in. "What do you want?" She wriggled again as the night wind harshly passed the pair. Her indigo orbs drifted to her white sword on the ground and then back at her attacker. The moonlight's glow made her enemy look mysterious and scary.

"Come with me," he answered, barely loosening his hold on her. His tongue flicked the side of her cheek. The softness of her flesh surprised him and the excitement that mounted in his most primal cortex shone in his azure eyes.

She was so terrified and confused. Rukia shuddered from his wet tongue and cocked her head away from the enemy. "Why? Where?" Her voice was quiet, as if afraid that the very devil was listening and waiting for her in the darkest shadow.

His grip on her did not slacken again, but his face did. "Back to Hueco Mundo."

Rukia found some sort of comfort looking at her beautiful blade on the ground, but the rest of her was trapped. Her hands on his arms were useless; she was not strong enough to get them off of her. Her short legs tried to kick him away, but he evaded her attack like a blur. "You did not answer why? Does Aizen want me?" Her jaw clenched, and her stomach felt like it was sinking under immense horror. What the sixth Espada said next to her ear made her stiff as a board.

"Did you know hollows love the taste of shinigami blood?"

Without moving her head, her eyes flitted to his face. The confusion on her visage was apparent, and her hands almost fell to her sides.

Satisfied with her response, Grimmjow explained, "We have evolved from hollows. We retain some of their wants, their most primitive desires, instincts and pleasures."

Her mouth opened in a soft 'o' but her stare grew harder, not quite understanding. "And so, you want to kill me like the hollows?" If he truly wanted to make her bleed and destroy her, Grimmjow could have done it long time ago. Then a thought struck her. Could the Arrancar eat the souls of Shinigami like the hollows?

Such an explicit thought made her scream and throttle. She opened her small mouth wide and clamped her teeth into his arm. He was surprised at her sudden attack and retreated somewhat. Rubbing his arm, Grimmjow muttered, "Bitch," but there was a small smirk dancing on his face. He watched the petite shinigami settle in a strong fighter's stance and when she came at him, he played along.

She punched. He dodged. She kicked. He evaded. She called upon her shinigami power and a blue flame pooled in her hands. When that flame touched him, it left nothing but wispy smoke fleeting from his white lapels. It disappeared with the wind.

Rukia had some skill, but she was no match for him.

Then all of a sudden he disappeared and reappeared behind her. Applying a sudden chop to her neck, Rukia blacked out, collapsing to the cold ground.

The sky ripped open and they were gone.

The first thing she heard was: "You are in violation of your orders."

The voice was familiar and powerful enough to make the Espada stop. In response, the man who literally held her captive twisted his head back, cocking it to the side, and suppressed an arrogant laugh. "She's just a shinigami."

Rukia stiffened, becoming more and more aware of her surroundings. She was not in the living world anymore, and she was not in Soul Society. She did not have to open her eyes to know she was in the arms of the Espada who stole her, and by his previous words she knew she was in Heuco Mundo.

The man of authority would not let the sixth Espada go so easily. "She is Kuchiki Rukia. She is a noble. Your rash actions will have consequences."

Her heart began to race when she recognized Tousen's voice, a former Captain who left Soul Society with Aizen.

She was not in safe territory at all.

Grimmjow's eyebrow rose in false interest. "Are you afraid of them, Tousen?" His voice contained traces of both amusement and annoyance. He did not turn his body to face the dark-skinned man but kept a hard gaze on the former captain.

Rukia had to be tactful. Careful. She fought to keep her eyes closed peacefully to pretend she was still out cold. Use this time wisely, Rukia said to herself.

She knew he would not hesitate to kill her. Think, Rukia, think.

But then she suddenly felt his fingers dig into her flesh, holding her more protectively and closer to him. So close that she could feel his steady heartbeat against her cheek. She tried not to writhe in his arms, but it was difficult to be lifeless.

Think, Rukia, think.

Oh, it was so hard to be lifeless. She truly fought to hide her shudder when she heard that distinctive voice:

"So, you're not going to share her with your brothers?"

It was a light-heartened, playful voice, one that she knew well and one that made her feel like she would suffocate. His presence alone made her feel like a snake was coiling around her neck, her body, her soul. And then that snake squeezes everything out of you.

This was Gin, another former Captain. A traitor.

The Espada's response was simple. "Hell no! Go find your own shinigami," Again, his hold tightened. Maybe he did it from her response, and if not that, it was definitely from his need to protect what is his.

Gin's mouth was left in a curved, slick, sly smile, a smile that Rukia did not want to see. His narrowed eyes moved to the side once, as if to signal Aizen's presence.

The once-Captain sat in his glorious white throne, and he looked down at the Espada before him. At first he kept silent. How ironic the shinigami that held the Orb of Distortion was with them today, held captive once again. Then he decided that for now he'd let Grimmjow keep his pet. There was no use for her anyway.

Rukia heard the grumbling around her. There were more people around them. More people who wanted shinigami?

"Are you so primitive that you want to keep her?" someone in the crowd asked. Rukia did not recognize the voice.

Grimmjow did not turn his head to the speaker either. He was not bothered at the question so much but the note about his control…his needs… made him smile a little. And he reiterated his words. "We have evolved from hollows. Have you ever wondered how good it would be to feed from shinigami?"

The men gathered were silent for a moment until a few whispers floated into the air. Before more questions could stall him further, Grimmjow left the room.

Rukia was an accomplished actress. Her arm dangled, her head lolled to one side, and she kept perfectly still. Only when he stopped moving did Rukia let a little slit of her eyes open so she could have some vague idea where this Espada had taken her. Ever since she regained consciousness, Rukia had pretended to be asleep, and she supposed that she was doing a good job since he did not make a verbal indication that he saw through her ruse.

Her limited vision only told her she was in a room, and suddenly his footsteps became lighter as she felt her body rest on a comfortable bed. Her eyes closed completely again when she felt his eyes on her, and she tried not to stiffen when his breath came close to her face, tickling her. Rukia was barely able to continue her act when his fingers touched her cheek. She expected roughness, but the act was simple and surprisingly gentle.

It was a good feeling, which made it was bad one. Because

he was the enemy.

"I know you're awake, Shinigami," he said. His voice was deep, rolling off her skin like a winter's breeze.

But she did not open her eyes. Maybe, she thought, if she played dead, he would leave her alone.

He did not.

A throaty sound escaped his mouth barely. His head lowered to her exposed neck, and his lips hovered over her perfect skin. He noticed her slight tremble when his hot breath tickled her skin, yet she still played dead. Then he let his tongue out, grazing over his lower lip before stroking her neck.

Eyes snapped open. Fists went flying. Bodies tumbled.

Grimmjow almost laughed. The shinigami punched him in the head, as he let it happen.

The anger gleaming in her eyes was brighter than ever. Her fists were tight and shaking, and her distance from him was a bit too far for his liking.

Grimmjow couldn't be more pleased. "That was stupid," he said condescendingly. His azure stare caught her confusion and her dislike.

Rukia stood at the foot of the bed, and as she tore her gaze away, she quickly noted her surroundings. The room was large, and everything was white and blue. She, dressed in black, was a stark contrast to her prison. The bed her abductor was lying on had silky white sheets, and was very long, almost two times that of Ichigo's bed and four times wider. Rukia bit the inside of her lip when she found the tall door to be about twenty steps away. "I don't understand what you want from me," she finally said, her eyes again on him. Her tone was cold enough to ice the hottest deserts.

The Espada then thought that some of her features were feline-like. She was graceful with quick reflexes, and her intense stare was like that of a cat. Grimmjow's mouth curved upwards. "I want your shinigami flesh."

Her mouth fell open, but no words stumbled out. Rukia still did not understand. She was so innocent, so pure… something coiled in his empty stomach at such a prospect.

"Hollows crave shinigami once they have a taste. We evolved from the hollows and still have some of those urges."

Rukia had heard this before. "So," she frowned. It wasn't her death he sought. He wanted to feed from her. What did that mean? His mouth and nose seemed drawn to her skin which prompted her next words, "What do you want to do to my flesh?"

She still did not truly understand his motives, but he was still lying in his spot, grinning at her. She was so innocent. "I want to run my tongue over your skin. I want to taste your most secret flesh. I want to feel your shinigami power prick my skin and feed."

Her eyes narrowed, her mouth fell, and wrinkles gathered on her face.

His grin was still there. "I want sex." He wanted to desecrate her. Take her. Claim her. Fuck her.

Another wave of fear washed over her, into her, through her. Paralyzed by such words, such wants, her mouth shut tightly, and she struggled to breathe. Slowly, her mind absorbed the meaning of his intent, and though her death was not on the list, it was just as bad.

"No," Rukia said, strongly. As soon those words were in the air, her eyes hardened, and her mouth curved in a defiant frown. "No," she repeated again, affirming her wishes. Then she shook her head, her stare still on him. "No."

His body did not move, but his head tilted forward. His grin sharpened to a smirk. "Shinigami, you don't have a choice. I will have you today, and there is nothing you can do to change the outcome. You can fight me, but I will break you. You can run, but I will always catch you."

A muscle above her eyelid twitched. She could not believe the words he was saying. She could not believe where she was and the situation she was in. She could not believe what this man, this monster, wanted from her.

She cringed. Think, Rukia, think.

No one knew where she was. Ichigo would find her missing in the morning, but he couldn't possibly know where to look. Knowing him, he would probably assume she went home…unless he found her zanpakutou.

That was not a hope to rely on. She had to be practical. She had to find a way out herself.

"Shinigami," he started again.

This time she corrected him. "It's Rukia."

His eyes narrowed at her confidence. "Let me just say this, you can enjoy it if you want to." And if she did, the next time would be even easier.

"And what do I get in return?" Stalling would not work forever, but she had to try.

The fact that she was negotiating was a start. "To go back to the orange haired boy."

Her eyes slanted further. "What does Ichigo have to do with this?"

An idea burned in his head then. "Isn't it he who's stopping you?"

"I'm not a whore," she stated tersely. She shook her head again, turned, and ran to the door.

As her legs carried her to the exit, Rukia could feel him beside her. She evaded his arms once, twice, but he always managed to come in front of her. Then she kicked at him, to move him out of her way, but he caught her leg and her wrist with both of his hands. She could feel his heavy stare on her as she struggled, her power singeing under her skin. But he effortlessly pushed her back and backhanded her face, whipping her to the ground.

"Shinigami—"

"Rukia," she corrected, and slowly she sat up. Her hand held her face, where he hit her, and the hatred in her eyes burned.

"I can just rape you, fuck you and then kill you, if that's what you prefer." He watched her crawl backwards into the foot of his bed. She could not stop him. She was powerless.

He might as well have her. Desecrate her.

"If you give me what I want, I'll give you want you want."

It took seconds for her to say, "Freedom."

He frowned. "You will get your freedom once I get what I want."

Then Rukia fell quiet, pondering her options.

"If I let…" she bit her lip hard enough to taste her bitter blood, "...you have me, you will not kill Ichigo, or endanger his life, or any of my friends'. You will not hurt them." Her eyes strayed to the circle of his abdomen and she rocked backwards with a violent tremble. "This will be the only time you take me." She swallowed hard again. "And…if you are gentle, then I will cooperate."

Her stipulations made Grimmjow think. He did not like thinking. So he said, "Fine."

"And my name is Kuchiki Rukia. Not shinigami." The sudden strength in her voice surprised him, but he did not let it show on his face.

Bright violet met azure blue. "Grimmjow Jaggerjack."

The air in the room changed. It was hard to describe, but he knew she was consenting to his wishes, his wants, his desires.

Then came his demands. "Take off your clothes." Those four words made something in her stomach cringe, writhe, and fall deep into an abyss. She rose to her feet in front of the large bed and closed her eyes as she took in a deep breath. Her hands found the white sash around her waist…

And this was how soon his lips found hers.

Shinigami intoxicated him. Grimmjow's head tilted forward while Rukia followed with hers up. His lips kissed her upper lip chastely, as if testing if he liked the taste, before he kissed her more surely. His mouth locked with hers and soon his tongue slipped inside her mouth.

Shinigami. The taste was overwhelming.

She felt his greed soar as his kisses became more and more demanding. His tongue probed and danced inside of her mouth, and soon she couldn't breathe or think straight. Panic then washed over her.

"St—" The small woman pushed him then. "Stop." Fear was still there in her eyes. "I can't do this."

But his hand on her shoulders squeezed her tightly. "You have no choice. I thought we already talked about this, shinigami."

"Rukia," she corrected once again.

"Whatever." Then one hand grabbed her jaw and he forced her to look up at him. A corner of his mouth lifted before it fell. "I'm telling you, this can be an extremely enjoyable experience if you let it."

She could barely manage to whisper, "How can I?" He was so tall, so dominating, and so scary. His dirty, Arrancar aura clashed with hers in a terrible mismatched pair. She didn't belong here.

Grimmjow let go then and pointed towards the bed. "You can just lie there, close your eyes, and wait for it to be over."

Anger came again like a wave and she looked away from him. "Do you really want me to do that?" Her voice was hoarse. She felt so broken.

The tall man stared at her hard, and his answer surprised her. "No." His fingers held a piece of her hair as his stare consumed her. "I want you to feel." And he bent forward to kiss her again. "I want you to feel, whether it's pleasure or anger, because that's when your power truly shines." Then Grimmjow paused and licked his lips. "Let me taste shinigami." He said it like it was touchable, something tangible, but in his eyes it meant more. It meant something that trifles between life and death, something that skirts on the edge of sanity.

But there were other shinigami. She voiced this notion, and he simply answered, "Opportunity."

Rukia was ready to fight him again and he smiled. He could feel her power rise barely above that tantalizing flesh as her eyes burned in rage. "Please, keep fighting," he taunted. "It just makes me want you more."

That made her frown. Yet she pushed her power into her hand and whipped it hard at her opponent. He was unscathed and smiling at her, like before in the living world. Humour tinted his blue eyes as she watched him drain her attack, like a sponge soaking up water.

He continued to watch her.

The only thing she could do was stare back. She could feel her soul, her power, her white shinigami-self, rise to the surface of her skin, and it would meet some sort of wall until he touched her, eliciting release. Her breaths came in and out more deeply; it was such a strange feeling, akin to fear, but not quite.

Maybe this feeling was laced with anticipation.

Then, in a blur, Grimmjow closed the space between them. She tried to resist, but he held her, and he was so strong.

With that strength, he lifted her and dropped her on the bed. Rukia almost hissed at him, at such boldness, but his eyes froze her again. Slowly, she watched him lower himself to her level. His hot, heavy breath made her writhe and squirm, but when his tongue skimmed her shoulder she froze. It wasn't the wetness of it, or how soothing the tongue's movement was, but his utter tenderness in this act shocked her again. His tongue lapped at her skin as if she was the tastiest piece of chocolate that melted on his tongue. He savoured her, his nose taking in deep breaths. His grip on her lessened then, and she fell on her back, facing up at him.

If it was possible, his eyes were glowing at her. Shining, bright blue. Hungry. Like blue fires. He wanted to feast. "Let me feed off of you," he said again, and before she could reply, he advanced on her like a predator. His tongue licked over her lower legs slowly, unhurriedly. She tried to move, tried to fight him, but he was strong. She could feel the power at her skin, fizzing almost, and then his aura, his being, met hers.

Run, Rukia, Run.

She turned her body, her breasts now on his white sheets, and tried to crawl away from him. But she felt his strong, cold hand on her ankle, stopping her. Her heart stopped in her throat.

Rukia expected him to say something, but he did not. Instead, she felt something wet glide up her calf, behind her leg and around the curve of her ass. His tongue continued by tracing her lower back all the way to her shoulder blade. Her toes curled, her head arched back and her fingers clawed in his pillow. The petite shinigami tried not to cry out, tried desperately not to show that she felt.

The best she could do was to let out a shuddering breath when he gave her a moment of reprise.

But that moment was longer than she expected. When she finally turned, his back was towards her and with one swift movement, he slid his top from his shoulders. Minus the hole in his torso his lean body was beautiful, though she would never admit it. His head then twisted back at her, his lips parted. "Do you want to see how excited I am, Shinigami? How excited you made me?"

"Rukia," she corrected, but she never answered his question. Then she watched his fingers slyly pull at the waistband of his pants, revealing the rest of his hard ab muscles. The white garment also met the ground, and her eyes widened.

He was large and thick; his size made her swallow visibly. He was hard already, not erect, but the hairless flesh of his organ seemed alive, threatening. Then curiousity nicked at her brain. She knew what he was going to do with that, and the thought alone sent her chills, but… once she wondered what did it feel like—

The small woman shook her head quickly, as if saying no, I didn't and could not have done this to him.

But his chin jutted forward, and when he returned to her, he pulled her shoulder forward, so the front of her body was exposed to him. She shivered as his hand trailed across her chest, down between her breasts, and his palm finally rested over her taut belly.

"What are you doing?" Rukia asked, her eyes fixated on where their flesh met. Heat gathered in that spot and then strangely, something fluttered in her stomach.

He did not reply at first but smiled. "I didn't do anything. Your body is responding to me, that's all." And without meeting her sudden, sharp gaze, he bent down to kiss her shoulder. At the same time, he pushed her back flat against the pearl-white sheets.

She tried to protest. "Sto—" But his mouth came over hers, silencing her wishes. His dirty mouth was incredibly careful, taking its time to taste and explore. His lips, surprisingly soft, grazed against her cheek as he took in a breath before plunging into another kiss. Her defences slowly began to crumble, though she knew in the back of her head his greed would climb and his passion would soar.

His fingers began to caress her flesh when his tongue slipped into her mouth. His entity, power, whatever you wanted to call it – what made him Espada – skimmed her skin, calling her own entity, power - Shinigami – out to him.

Rukia struggled to breathe until she returned his kiss, until she found her rhythm. She gripped his arms though, as if to give him a hard time, but he paid no heed to it. She was so sweet, so good, so everything.

He groaned, kissing down to her chin. Grimmjow looked at his breathless captive before he nicked her lips between his teeth. She made a noise, almost a cry, and her nails dug deeper into his muscled arms.

His hungry mouth travelled down to her throat, sucking, biting, kissing. She wanted to say, "Stop," again, but she could not articulate words. She definitely couldn't when his hot mouth covered her coral tip, his tongue flicking over the hard nipple before truly tasting. His hand squeezed her other small breast, his thumb playing with her tip to hardness. Before the tall Espada explored further, he laughed against her perfect flesh. "Enjoy it." His right fingers then traced a line from her breast to her belly, then to the area between her legs. She gasped and immediately tried to close her legs, but he was already sitting in between them.

Next, Grimmjow sat up, holding her hand in his. Her flush skin and the feelings skimming on her, through her and in her was prevalent on her face, despite how hard she tried to hide it. Then suddenly, Rukia kicked his head with her right leg. It was a poor kick, easily caught in his hand. He showed no anger at her defiance. With her hand and her leg in his hold, he pulled her up on his lap, his hard member resting against her pink folds.

Their eyes locked again in the most heated gaze. His mouth itched to touch her again, but instead he held her, one arm wrapped around her waist. Grimmjow forced her hand to his chest, rubbing the hard muscle right under the flesh. Her palm was like a gust of wind, oxygen, to fuel the flame inside him. Even though he was directing her hand, the fear in her was replaced by something – anxiety and wonder maybe. She really looked at him, at each curve of his muscle, at each scar he wore, right up to his sharp chin and then to his bone-white mask.

He was an Arrancar, an Espada, and this was really happening.

Rukia shuddered as she received his embrace. "Let me taste you," he whispered, his hot breath tickling her again.

She knew she had lost. She knew this was it. She knew, as he laid her back down, as his mouth hungrily fed off – kissed, bit, caressed – her flesh, he had won her for the taking.

Then a voice said something inside her head. "It is for the greater good." She gasped, a hotness coiling at her most intimate place. "It is for the greater good." Rukia's eyes widened when his fingers touched her slippery folds. "It is…"

She could not look at him. As he kneaded her swollen bulb, she could not ignore these feelings anymore. It grew hotter, and the display of emotions crossed her face. A whimper floated into the air. It was hers, and she gripped into the sheets tighter.

When she bucked her hips forward, closer to him, just barely, and his excitement mounted. Her soft whimpers became more frequent, and the wetness on his fingers brought him another shrill of anticipation.

"St-op," was all she could mutter; the warm fuzzy feelings did not disappear when he halted. Rukia looked up to him, her mouth left open when he went on all fours and his head dove toward her pink flesh.

She wanted to cry out, his mouth feeding on her wetness, her core. His eyes rolled up to look at her face, as she watched him, and like the animal he truly was, Grimmjow licked and feasted. His tongue licked her all over, lightly, slowly. His mouth kissed, sucked, doing things to her she'd never imagine, and never imagine feeling.

When his tongue slipped inside her, the warm fuzzy feelings were more intense, more hot. She could not stop those sounds from escaping her lips. The groaning. The whimpers. The ohs.

Oh, he enjoyed his feast. Her taste. He groaned and made sounds akin to growls. He truly sounded like an animal devouring its food. His large hands kept her legs opened to him, and for one moment when their eyes met, azure burned brightly, hungry pools of desire. Without saying anything, she knew what he was thinking. "You smell and taste so good. I can't help it." And he continued to feast till she got heavy with need and want. He kissed and licked, sucked gently at first, then deeper and deeper and deeper until she felt that spasm of delight, until she had her first orgasm.

She screamed and writhed and clawed at the pillows. She even forgot who she was with and where she was in that short moment of euphoria. Soon, her eyes fluttered from blindness as she laid back, boneless, and wondered about the heat burning her skin and the sweat making her sticky. Her brain seemed slow and stupid, but… "For the greater good…"

Then he was in her vision again and he wasn't done.

His tongue was wet on her skin again. It glided over her inner thighs, up her flat belly, over her breast and right up to her cheek. He breathed harshly, before kissing her mouth savagely, deeply, as if her mouth was the air, and the food, and water, all rolled into one. He kissed her, and she could taste her juices, herself, on his tongue. She moaned against his mouth, and involuntarily she pressed her body against his.

She was so wet, the need to devour her grew stronger and stronger. Then the tip of his erection entered her and slowly, gently, he pushed in, stopping halfway.

He thought he might break her.

And she stiffened.

Rukia tried not to cry out as he pushed again. She was tighter than he wanted her to be, but he was able to move his member deep inside her. Her head shook side to side, trying to block the pain, but something – dare she say pleasure – rippled through her as well. His strokes were slow at first, and the warmth gathered at her core, especially when his thrusts became quicker, stronger, faster. Encouraging him were her gasps and pants, a lovely sound to his ears.

Then all he could do was to pump in and out of her. He was almost there. He knew she was almost there.

And she cried out; she felt him spasm inside of her as he hollered in one of the most satisfying moments of devouring shinigami.

But before she thought it was over, it wasn't. She could feel his blood, his power, under the hotness of his skin, and when she palmed his chest she could feel his heart. She never felt anyone's heart the way she felt his, and though his wasn't like a normal heart, it felt touchable. In that moment, it felt like she could reach inside, make another hole in his body, and cup his life essence and caress it. But then she screamed, or tried to – her voice was lost in her throat.

He was gentle before, but nothing about him was gentle this time. The lines on his face hardened and he plunged into her as fast as he could. He brought her screaming, writhing, underneath him. His hands pinned her down, bruising her arms as his rhythm became frenzied, frantic. His ragged breathing and glowing eyes came before he cried out again, and for a second, she thought he changed. She thought she saw him as a white panther, an animal, a creature. Running. Hunting. Feasting.

But as quickly as she saw him in that primitive form, she was blinded again and she was breathless, crying out.

The next time she opened her eyes, she was still there with him. A trickle of blood rolled down her thighs. She was numb, broken, gasping for breath as if she was drowning.

Grimmjow did not say anything. He was still over her, spine bowed, and his hands gripped her wrists as if she was the last solid thing in the world. He did not say anything until a tear slipped down her cheek.

"Rukia," he called her by her name, "Rukia." It was all he managed to say, because he felt too good. She was too good. It was better than he expected and more than he could imagine. He wanted to laugh in joy and cry in happiness, but he could not even do those things - it was just too good.

Rukia could not find words either. She remained motionless as he cleaned her blood with his tongue. She remained quiet as he clothed himself again. She tried not to look at him, but somehow, her eyes were fixated to him.

Hatred? Wonder? Desire?

It was hate, she was sure.

But the next time he would come to her. He would not be able to fight that primitive need inside him, especially since he had felt shinigami and tasted the sweetness of her. She would become a victim again. And eventually the lines will blur and…

Rukia would experience the dirtiest taste of sin for many days to come.

And your greed becomes insatiable… you will do anything to protect it… own it…

End

Author's Note: Please review and thanks for reading.