A/N: Hello my fellow IchiHime lovers! I am here today with another one-shot (that was actually written back in June/July, but I had to work up the nerve to post it)!

However, I need to first take a moment to explain something. This story is offered as part 'thank you!' to all of my loyal readers who have been following my recent stories, and part apology to those same readers. Unfortunately, I am going to be taking a little break from my IchiHime-writing, in order to work on an original story that's been cooking in my brain. I promise I'm in no way gone forever - I love this couple too much to abandon them outright! - however it will probably be several months (realistically) before you hear from me again. So I want you to know I have been incredibly grateful for all your reviews and praise and encouragement, and I am very sorry to disappoint anyone with my hiatus.

As for this story itself, I don't have much else to say, other than that there's only enough plot to make it semi-believable (I can admit it). Still, I hope you enjoy it!

Warning: Citrus.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Lost In You

His blood felt like it was on fire as it coursed through him, and with each sound she made, each shift of her small, lithe body against his, the heat rose. He couldn't think past the strawberry-lined lips pressed against his, the taste of the slick, pink tongue that he had pulled into his mouth, or the feel of her fingernails scraping against his scalp as she curled fistfuls of his hair.

Her skin was warm beneath his palms as he slipped his hands under the hem of her shirt, and her body arched with his touch, forcing her large breasts into his chest. He trailed his hands over the skin at her hips, rubbing his thumbs firmly over her abdomen, before curving his hands around her back. Her skin was so smooth, so warm, so tempting.

He wasn't sure how it had happened.

The hollow had been only average, but it had appeared practically on top of Orihime as she walked down the sidewalk towards the grocery store. Fortunately, Ichigo had already been watching her, as he'd spotted her nearly a block back and, as always, since then his eyes had continuously wandered back to her. So he saw the moment it happened.

She'd had no time to react, and though he couldn't see her face, he was sure her eyes had gone wide, to match the shock that was depicted through her posture. The hollow roared even as it swung a massive, elongated, arm in her direction.

Ichigo cursed and slapped his Combat Pass to his chest without thought or hesitation.

The disproportionate hand came closer.

Orihime lifted one foot, to step backwards, as her arms began to rise and her lips parted.

Ichigo's hand wrapped around Zangetsu's hilt as he vanished in a flash-step.

The hand connected.

Orihime cried out, her body flying backwards uncontrollably.

Ichigo changed direction, a string of unintelligible curses flying from his mouth.

He only barely managed to catch her, appearing behind her and wrapping a strong arm around her stomach even as his back – and Zangetsu – crashed into a brick wall. But Orihime had crashed into him, and not the brick that would surely have (at best) given her a horrible concussion.

Still her voice was weak when she spoke, as the blow itself had done noticeable damage. "I-Ichigo…?"

Ichigo set his jaw, anger clouding his vision as he realized that she was only barely conscious. He adjusted his grip, scooping her into his arms and flash-stepping away from the hollow, where he could set her down gently. "Don't move," he ordered. "I'll be right back."

He waited only long enough for her to nod, slightly, before returning to the hollow. It took him longer to call out the attack, as he swung Zangetsu forward, than it did for the hollow to die. But as soon as he'd seen that the attack had split the creature's mask, Ichigo replaced his sword on his back and left, not caring to see the monster's final moments.

Orihime was unconscious when he returned to her side, and she remained that way until several minutes after Tessai had begun healing her. By that point Ichigo had forgotten entirely about his body, and so when Kisuke announced that he'd retrieved it, Ichigo had stared at him blankly for a long minute.

Ichigo's was the first face she saw when she opened her eyes several minutes later.

The tight set of his jaw, and darkened, self-loathing expression in his eyes was all she'd needed to remember what happened and figure out what he was thinking. So the first words out of her mouth had been, "…Sorry…I should've paid more attention."

Ichigo swallowed and scolded her for her apology. "It wasn't your fault, dammit, don't apologize. Just lie still; you'll be fine soon."

And she was.

Afterwards, Ichigo had insisted on walking her home, and Orihime (still feeling guilty) had invited him in. They'd barely kicked off their shoes when Orihime turned to him, intending to offer food or drink, but she came up short at the look in Ichigo's eyes.

And then her back was against the wall, his hands framing her face, and his lips had crashed onto hers. Right from the start, the kiss was desperate, hungry, and pleading. Orihime curled her fists into his shirt as she returned the kiss, overwhelmed by his sense of urgency and need, but doing her best to match his fire.

In no time his hands had begun roaming, and hers had quickly followed suit. Ichigo was the first to dip beneath the other's clothing, and Orihime moaned breathlessly against his lips at the first brush of his fingertips over her waist. Ichigo promptly sucked her tongue into his mouth, massaging it with his and sending shivers up and down her spine.

She arched against him again, grinding her hips against his accidentally, and Ichigo hissed in pleasure. Before she could do it again (testing to see if she'd get a similar reaction), he tightened his grip on her waist and lifted her just enough to remove her feet from the floor. With one knee, he gently parted her legs, and she reflexively lifted them, wrapping them around his denim-clad hips.

He was pressing her fully against the wall now, and her soft, feminine curves were molding into his hard, lean muscles. The skirt she was wearing had ridden up to her upper thighs, and his arousal was pressing eagerly against her through the layers of fabric that separated them.

He plunged his tongue deep into her mouth as he rocked his hips forward instinctively, tearing throaty moans from the both of them. Her thighs tightened over his hips, and the skin of his torso met, briefly, with the skin of her inner thigh as his shirt rode up.

Ichigo knew he should stop, knew he should pull away from her lips and skin, before he lost what little control he had left. He knew he'd all but attacked her when they'd gotten to her apartment, and he knew damn well what his body was telling him. At the very least, he knew he should take a breath and tell her about the feelings he'd been hiding for so long.

But the way she was responding to him was too distracting, too captivating, and as she rolled her hips against his, clenching her legs even tighter, he forgot what it was he'd been arguing with himself over in the first place. Her tongue had slipped, of its own accord, back into his mouth as she held onto him tightly, and he nearly growled in approval.

Her lungs were beginning to burn with a different need, and Orihime reluctantly broke from his kiss, gasping in ragged breaths. Her senses had only barely begun to return to her, however, when Ichigo bowed his head and began trailing hot, lingering, kisses over her throat. What rational thought had managed to crop back up in her mind was immediately lost as Orihime gasped loudly and her head fell back against the wall.

His lips closed around her pulse-point and he sucked hard, even grazing his teeth just a little over the sensitive flesh, before running his tongue gently over the same spot. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Orihime realized that that would undoubtedly leave a mark, but she sincerely didn't care; it felt so good. Everything he was doing was setting her on fire, and she desperately wanted to get him closer.

Ichigo smirked faintly against her skin as he trailed his lips and tongue back up, leaving the newly-formed hickey for a moment. Her head tilted as his lips ascended and she moaned softly, fingers curling against his scalp once more.

One of her hands abandoned his hair and slid, slowly, down his neck until it had slipped beneath the collar of his shirt. Her nails scraped his heated skin as another gasping moan escaped her lips when he nipped the skin beneath her ear, and he rolled his hips forward in response.

Then his fingers brushed against the bottom line of her bra, and this time the growl did vibrate up from his chest. The barriers between them suddenly seemed unacceptably oppressive, and he pulled his lips from her skin enough to glare at her clothing. She was still breathing heavily, which gave him a strange sense of pride, and his eyes flicked up to hers for the first time since he had begun to kiss her.

When their eyes locked, she licked her swollen lips subconsciously, and he recognized the darkened look in her gray eyes. He was sure it matched the look in his own eyes almost exactly, and somehow that knowledge was all the approval he needed.

Tightening one arm around her waist supportively, he grabbed a fistful of her shirt in the other hand and yanked it up and over her head. He tossed it aside carelessly even as her arms lowered, and his eyes returned to her body.

He knew he couldn't just tear the bra off in the same manner as he had her shirt. But before he could formulate a plan, Orihime arched forward a bit, and her arms curved around behind her back. A moment later the bra loosened and then she was shrugging out of it, letting it fall to the floor beside his feet.

Ichigo's eyes snapped back up to hers, surprise just slightly overriding his lust, as her hands landed back on his shoulders. A faint, sheepish, smile curved her lips and she trailed her hands up, over the sides of his neck, to cup his jaw. He let her pull him in and kissed her deeply.

For a long moment, the intensity of the passion seemed to fade to a manageable level, and the kiss remained slow and tender.

But all too soon the urgency returned and Ichigo closed the small distance that he'd put between them, pressing her once again flush against the wall. Orihime gasped into his mouth, her hands running restlessly along his face, through his hair, and over his corded throat. Finally she grew impatient and curled her fingers into his shirt, tugging awkwardly as their tongues continued to dance.

He took the hint when he registered the tugging on his shirt, and he pulled away from her lips long enough to lean back. She was forced to tighten her legs again around him to support herself, though he pressed his hips against hers firmly, as he grabbed his shirt and tore it off. It landed off to the side, somewhere in the vicinity of hers, as his hands returned to her soft, heated skin.

She moaned throatily as he shifted, rubbing enticingly against her core, and as soon as she was able she returned her hands to his chest. Ichigo pressed once more against her a moment later, forcing her arms to curve around his shoulders as he re-claimed her lips hungrily. But neither were at all oblivious to the sensations shooting through them as their bare chests met for the first time.

Skin-on-skin was definitely the way to go.

Orihime arched again when his lips left hers to trail another round of hot kisses down the side of her throat. One of his hands was splayed and planted firmly over her hip, helping to support her, but the other hand was wandering, leaving a scorching trail in its wake. His hand ran up and down her side teasingly, and his thumb brushed the swell of her breast, causing her to release another throaty moan.

He shifted again at that point, and then his hand had closed over her breast experimentally. The choked sound of pleasure that immediately escaped from her parted lips was more than enough encouragement for him, and he began to move his fingers around. He molded her breast gently, testing, and then he rubbed his thumb over her nipple.

The next sound she made had him bucking against her hips and biting down just a little over her collar bone. So he rubbed his thumb over it again, but this time he pressed a little more firmly, and he followed it up by giving her breast a light squeeze. He was rewarded immediately as she gasped and cried out, her head falling back against the wall as her body arched into his.

Orihime tangled one hand into his hair once more and tugged as lightly as she could manage, until Ichigo had lifted his head and allowed her to reclaim his lips. Her arms curved completely around him, both of her breasts pressing flush against his chest, and her thighs tightened over his hips.

Both of Ichigo's arms came around her as he took a single step away from the wall. He returned her kiss with equal vigor as he thoughtlessly began moving. Each step had his arousal bumping, grinding, against her clothed center teasingly.

Later he would look back and wonder how, but he managed to make it all the way to her bedroom without even breaking the kiss.

His knees buckled beside her futon and they tumbled forward, one of his arms shooting out enough to keep them from slamming painfully onto the bed. The rough landing had them both breaking from the kiss, sucking in ragged breaths and gasping in pleasure as their hips slammed together.

As the oxygen returned to his brain, Ichigo realized what they were doing, and some part of him knew that there was a reason they should stop. But he couldn't remember what it was, and he had no desire – no strength – to pull away from her, so he bowed his head beside hers, trailing his lips up to her ear, and whispered heavily, "Tell me to stop. I won't – I can't – if you don't stop me."

His voice penetrated the fog that had settled over her brain and Orihime tangled her fingers further into his hair as his words washed over her. As he finished speaking, his lips reconnected with her skin, suckling lightly and parting to allow his tongue to tease her flesh.

He'd trailed his kisses nearly all the way to her shoulder before she realized she was supposed to say something.

Her voice breathless and soft, Orihime replied, "I don't want to stop. Please, Ichigo…. I want it to be you."

She was too lost in the feel of his lips, his tongue, his hands, to be mortified at what she'd said. All she knew right then was that she had never felt more beautiful, or more treasured, in her life. For that moment, at least, she could convince herself that Ichigo loved her, and she could let herself love him back.

Ichigo growled possessively against her skin at her choice of words. Like hell he would let anyone else see her, touch her – know her – like this. She was his, and he intended to make her realize it before they were done.

His hands flew down her sides, fingertips brushing the sides of her breasts and skimming over her abdomen, before finally settling over her knees. Gently, as he licked at the underside of her jaw, he pressed on her knees, guiding her to release his hips. Once her legs were mostly stretched out, Ichigo pulled back slightly and hooked his fingers over the hem of her skirt and panties. He didn't pause as he swiftly pulled his hands down, effectively removing her remaining clothing in one easy gesture.

Eyes and hands skimming, lingering, burning over her body, Ichigo slowly crawled back up until his lips were once again moving over hers. He kissed her firmly, taking possession of her mouth as one of his hands slipped down to one of her breasts. Orihime returned the kiss with a fervor of her own, her body arching again in response to his touch.

Orihime's hips lifted from the futon, grinding against his, and Ichigo felt himself throb painfully against the harsh denim of his jeans. Growling against her lips, Ichigo rolled her nipple between his fingers as he simultaneously rolled his hips forward in response. As much as he wanted to remove the final barriers between them, he wanted to know she was ready, so he told himself to wait.

When her slim fingers abandoned his spiky hair and began trailing down his well-toned chest, however, he knew his restraint was at its limits. She moved slowly as she returned his hungry kisses, letting her fingers follow the contours of his muscles, and she paused to scrap her nails lightly over his nipples.

Ichigo hissed, tearing from her lips to plant feverish kisses along her jaw and throat as he breathed deeply. He found the juncture between her neck and shoulder at the same time as her hands found the buckle on his jeans. His teeth scraped across her skin when her fingers brushed over the skin beneath the hem of his pants, and he felt his muscles quiver from the unfamiliar contact. He felt her fumble with his buckle, but before he could drag his hand from her breast to help her, the buckle popped open.

It wasn't until she was slipping the button free, fingers brushing tauntingly close to his straining arousal, that he remembered to pull the condoms from his back pocket. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he supposed he should be grateful that his father had always made him carry them since he started high school. He managed to snag them, dropping them to the side of the futon, just before she lowered his zipper.

The freedom from the confines of the denim, and the sensation of the cooler air rushing over him, had Ichigo groaning against her throat. And then her hands were skimming quickly back up his chest, coming to rest on his shoulders, and she shifted beneath him. For a moment, Ichigo wasn't sure what she was doing, and then her feet were at his hips and pushing.

His jeans awkwardly began sliding down his legs, scraping against his overheated flesh beneath her feet, which were attempting to guide them off. The sensation was electrifying, and he was tempted to leave it entirely to her, but he wasn't feeling at all that patient. So he released her skin from his lips, taking a moment to appreciate the noticeable redness, before sitting up.

Orihime's legs fell back to the futon immediately, and she pulled her lower lip between her teeth as she watched his hands with mesmerized eyes. She had seen him shirtless several times, and though the view was certainly breathtaking, she couldn't even find the words to describe how anxious she was to see what she was about to see.

Ichigo's hands worked quickly and methodically, hooking his boxers beneath his thumbs and easily slipping them down, over his hips. With two swift kicks, the remainder of his clothing was sent to the other side of the room, and he returned his attention to the beautiful woman lying beneath him.

Her gray eyes were blatantly focused below his chest, and her lips had parted to form a small 'o' as her tongue slipped out and ran over them subconsciously. He couldn't help but smirk, just a little, at the look on her face.

The smirk vanished, however, when Orihime lifted one hand and reached out for him. He was frozen in place, his heart slamming against his ribcage, until her fingers hesitantly skimmed over him.

The spell that had been holding him in place vanished then and Ichigo surged forward, covering her body with his once more and claiming her lips in a hard kiss. He wrapped his arms around her, crushing her body against his, and he could feel himself brushing against her slick entrance.

Orihime moaned into the kiss, her hands dancing over his abdomen before curving around his torso and clenching over his back.

He kissed her, devouring her mouth with his, for a long minute, even as the muscles in his back and legs tensed and locked in his effort to keep himself from plunging into her. She moaned and mewled, arching beneath him and digging her nails into his back as his tongue plundered her mouth. And when one of her legs began to lift, curving over his hip, Ichigo swept his tongue over hers once more before breaking the kiss.

Orihime watched him, a hint of confusion flickering in her gaze, as he pulled away enough to tear open one of the condoms. It occurred to him to explain why he had them, and he wondered if she'd ask, but he couldn't bring himself to say a word as he watched her watch him.

As soon as he was done, he repositioned himself, this time bracing himself over her with his forearms. For a long moment, as they both took deep breaths, they stared silently into each other's eyes. He wanted to ask – needed to know – if she was okay with what was about to happen, but he couldn't find the right words.

She smiled, slowly, and the fingers of one hand trailed lightly over the side of his face. It's okay, her eyes promised.

Still, he was aware enough to realize that, for a moment at least, she would be in pain. So he lowered his head and captured her already-well-kissed lips in a slow, deep kiss. He trailed one hand down to her hip and held her in place for a moment as he attempted to memorize every curve of her mouth.

Carefully, with all the control he could gather in that moment, Ichigo eased himself inside of her.

When he was buried fully within her, Ichigo stilled, and Orihime tore her lips from his in a gasp as her hands curled over his back tightly. He lowered his head, his lips brushing the shell of her ear, but again the words died in his throat. So instead he pressed a light, tender kiss to the skin beneath her ear. I'm sorry.

One of Orihime's hands skimmed up until her fingers were buried once again in his hair and she massaged his scalp lightly a moment before she rolled her hips experimentally. Ichigo growled into her skin and pulled back just a little, before surging forward again.

Orihime gasped, moaning and letting her head fall back as he began pumping into her. Her hands clenched over his skin and, as she arched, she curved one leg over his hip instinctively. When one of Ichigo's hands found her breast again and rolled her nipple between thumb and forefinger, he captured the next moan in his mouth, thrusting into her simultaneously.

They moved together then, kissing deeply before pulling away to suck in ragged breaths, as Ichigo thrust into her over and over again. Their hips met as her body arched off of the futon, slapping together and mixing with the sounds continuously tearing from their throats.

Orihime's moans became louder when Ichigo bowed his head and wrapped his lips around her breast. Her other leg came up, curving over his hip, as he ran his tongue over her nipple and sucked hard. She gasped something that, at first, he couldn't understand, but when she gasped it again – slightly louder – he realized that she was gasping his name.

Over and over again, like a broken mantra, she gasped and moaned his name as he surged into her. Her voice grew louder as he pumped, each time filling her to the hilt, and Ichigo suspected that he wasn't the only one dangerously close to the edge.

She was wrapped completely around him now, and he knew nothing beyond the taste and feel of her, except for the sounds she was making for him. His pace was increasing rapidly as he approached that precipice, but he refused to go over alone. So he dragged his tongue up her breast, over her collar, trailing along her throat and lingering over her jaw before finally reclaiming her lips.

As their tongues clashed Ichigo pumped into her, hard and fast, and she matched his pace eagerly, moaning into his kiss.

And then their hips came together again as Ichigo filled her, and their bodies exploded, shattering around them in pure, raw bliss.

Orihime tore from his lips as she cried out his name, clenching tightly around him as her orgasm rocked through her. Ichigo buried his face in the crook of her neck, grunting her name and wrapping his arms tightly around her; holding her close as he pumped shallowly into her, wringing out the last vestiges of pleasure.

Slowly, Ichigo loosened his hold on her as his breathing evened, and as her legs fell, limply, from his hips, he rolled onto his back – pulling her with him.

As they silently readjusted, Ichigo eased himself out of her and quickly dropped the condom into the garbage pail she kept beside her futon.

Orihime sighed deeply, her body relaxing, and snuggled somehow closer to him. Her eyes drooped and a soft smile curved her lips. "Ichigo…" she murmured.

His arms tightened around her and he lifted one hand to tangle it in her loose auburn hair. "I love you, Orihime," he whispered. The words slipped from his lips without warning, but all the same, he figured there was no sense in not saying them anymore.

She lifted her head, her exhaustion forgotten with his soft admission, staring at him with wide eyes. He met her gaze fearlessly and smiled softly at her. And she could see it – the truth of his words, everything that she had ever wanted to see – reflected in his eyes.

With a bright smile, she shifted slightly and reached up to dance her fingertips along his jaw as she softly replied, "I love you, too, Ichigo."

His smile became a crooked grin and he rubbed his thumb along her upper arm as he asked, "Is it alright if I stay for a while?"

Orihime giggled and laid her head back down on his shoulder, her fingers lowering to linger over his neck. "I suppose," she teased.

He gave her arm a squeeze before his hand stilled, and silence eased back into the room. Their eyes began to droop, but neither made an effort to move, or speak, as sleep slowly claimed them. Because no matter what was left to be said, there was nothing that needed to be said in that moment.

Nothing, except: "Good night, Hime."

The End

A/N: So there you have it! I really do hope you all enjoyed this little smut-shot (let's face it, that's what it was!), and if it isn't too much to ask, maybe I could squeeze a review out of you? ;)

And, again, I'd like to say thank you to everyone who's read/reviewed any (or all) of my other stories! Your words have often lifted my spirits (and my confidence), and I only hope to write a novel as well-received as some of my stories have been! But in order to work on that, I must ask for you to forgive my abscence for a while...I will eventually return with more stories, but they'll be slower in coming than they have been in the past several months. So thank you, and I hope to hear from you in the future! :)