Omakase by Chiaztolite


Kagome stared at the last text message that Sesshōmaru sent her. His flight from Copenhagen had landed at Narita airport two hours late, though it seemed he was already in the car and on his way home.

Their anniversary celebration would have to be a little delayed, which was fine, as the plan was to have an intimate dinner for two at home. Thankfully, he had opted for an earlier flight just in case of delay, so they could spend the evening together celebrating this milestone.

Perhaps, after twenty years, celebrating an anniversary might seem redundant if not downright frivolous, but Kagome took pleasure in planning these special moments. And fortunately, her husband and mate indulged her romantic whims.

Sesshōmaru had been extremely busy lately with expanding his business empire into the European market. This most recent trip brought him to ten countries within three weeks. Still, knowing how important tonight was for her, he made sure to be home for the private dinner she planned.

When she had spoken to him on the phone a couple of weeks ago, she had asked for his input on what they should do for the celebration.

His answer was one word: “Omakase.”

Which literally meant ‘respectfully leaving another to decide what is best’.

To be fair, he had been between meetings, and it was entirely possible that he was required elsewhere urgently and had to end the call. Nevertheless, Kagome decided to take the instruction at face value and run with it.

When earlier she had offered to pick him up at the airport, he told her to stay at the penthouse, knowing she had something special planned just for him.

And true enough, she did. Every time she ran the steps of tonight’s events in her head and thought of what they would be doing later, her pulse quickened with both excitement and anxiety in equal measures. Butterflies fluttered in the pit of her belly, so much that she had to remind herself to calm down—several times.

Kagome focused on finishing the preparations for all the six courses of their meals. She had been planning this for three weeks, and she wanted everything to be perfect.

She was in the middle of stirring their first dish, warming it up inside a pot, when she received another text message from Sesshōmaru, giving her a ten-minute warning.

After ensuring the kitchen was reasonably cleaned and tidied, she checked herself in the mirror. The light makeup she had applied seemed to hold, and her loose updo still looked good. Precisely on time, she heard the front door clicking and saw her husband strolling in, his luggage behind him.

She rushed to meet him in their foyer.

“I am sorry I’m late,” he said, kissing her on the cheek as he simultaneously loosened his tie. “There was a long line at the Immigration as well, and an even longer wait for the luggage.”

“It’s okay.” Kagome looked up and observed the stiff set of his mouth. “You seem tense. Everything okay?”

“A Ten-hour flight plus three hours wait at Narita Airport would make anyone tense,” he replied, smiling, although the pursed lines of his lips still looked wearied.

Kagome caressed his cheek, rubbing at his magenta markings in a gesture she knew would soothe him.

“The bath is ready,” she told him. “Why don’t you go and freshen up while I get our dinner served?”

Sesshōmaru nodded. Kagome began to move towards the kitchen when he caught her hand and pulled her back to him. Her body was flushed against his now, and she inhaled his scent of cedar and crushed pine needles, woodsmoke and brisk winter air, the winter scents she had come to associate as inherently his.

“Wait just a moment,” he murmured.

He bent his head and touched his lips to hers. Immediately, Kagome wrapped her arms around his neck and melted into his embrace. There was restraint in that initial kiss. Only the clench of his fingers around a handful of her hair hinted at the delicious hunger he harboured within.

After three weeks of being without him, it seemed that they both could scarcely wait to begin.

“Happy Anniversary, my love,” Sesshōmaru said when he broke contact, gently kissing the tip of her nose.


Back in the kitchen, while Sesshōmaru bathed, Kagome smoothed her hands down her dress.

She had outfitted herself carefully for this evening. Much thought went into selecting her clothing before she settled on one of her favourite little black dresses. Sesshōmaru was not someone who was easily aroused by a scanty dress or a blatant show of bare skin. He appreciated the subtle eroticism of a well-fitted dress with just a hint of nude skin, leaving much to the imagination.

And, from how his gaze had turned heavy-lidded as those golden eyes traced the hills and valleys of her curves underneath the elegant dress, she dared say she succeeded.

Kagome set the table and lit some candles all over the penthouse before she returned to the kitchen to finish the remainder of the cooking. Their home had an open, airy feel, with an open-concept kitchen that flowed into the dining area and vice versa. She could practically stir the pot in the kitchen while entertaining Sesshōmaru at the dinner table.

Her mate and husband came into their dining area in a fresh shirt and a pair of tailored slacks. A sultry smile appeared on his face when he saw what she had done — all the candles she had lit throughout the penthouse to add a romantic atmosphere to their dinner.

For their first course, she had decided on a roasted kabocha squash soup. She had peeled and roasted the squash, and mixed it with sautéed aromatics and dashi stock, after which she left the mixture to simmer over low heat until all the flavour was amalgamated. Then, she blended them and strained the mixture until it was velvety smooth. A light seasoning of sea salt and pepper completed the dish.

As a daiyōkai, Sesshōmaru possessed a highly refined and sensitive tastebud. He detested anything that was over-seasoned or overcooked. He preferred his food to retain its natural taste as much as possible, without heavy sauces or seasonings modifying its flavour.

Kagome watched him sample the soup and saw his eyes lighting up with appreciation.

“This is delicious, Kagome,” he said, smiling at her. “Thank you for preparing it.”

She smiled back and squeezed his hand before she began to eat. After a few seconds, when Sesshōmaru caught her taking only delicate little mouthful of the soup, he asked:

“Why are you not eating?”

“I snacked quite a bit while I cooked,” Kagome replied. It was true, but not precisely why she decided to eat sparingly. She never felt sexy whenever she had a bloated stomach, and thus that pesky sensation was the last thing she wanted.

Another spoonful was on the way to his mouth when she let out a little of her power, a tendril of reiki to tease the exposed skin at his collarbone. He paused; the cutlery stopped midway in the air when he suddenly sensed her touch.

“Kagome.” He arched one silver eyebrow, looking mildly amused. “Care to explain what you think you are doing?”

She retracted her reiki, flashed an innocent smile at him, and dipped her spoon into her bowl.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replied. Her tongue darted to lick the smooth, velvety soup off her spoon.

Sesshōmaru followed the movements of her tongue with rapt attention. She knew her husband was a visual creature, and nothing turned him on more than the little seductive gestures she knew to do during their foreplays.

Now, those golden eyes flickered with a hint of knowledge that she was up to something, but he did not press her. Soon, he began to eat again, and their conversations resumed.

In preparation for his return and their anniversary celebration, Kagome had exercised her skills during the three weeks of his absence – on herself, practicing until she got the pressures just right. And, from the surge of desire she sensed when her reiki touched his skin, she reckoned she had done an excellent job.

The soup dishes were cleared off the table, and they moved on to the second course, which was fish. It was autumn, the season for sanma — or mackerel pike, which she turned into beautifully thin slices of sashimi, lightly brushed with yuzu-soy glaze and torched until they were caramelized around the edges. She presented them with a simple salad of shaved cucumber and daikon.

“How is the food?” Kagome asked as soon as she returned to the table, just as Sesshōmaru took the first bite. She shifted in her seat a little and crossed her legs. The change in her position hiked the skirt of her dress up, showing off a little more of her thighs. She even ensured he got a peek of the new lacy red panties she purchased for this occasion.

And he did. His eyes widened infinitesimally. She caught his amber eyes turning a deeper shade of gold as they glided over her bare skin.

“They are… the best I ever had,” he said, a little distractedly as he struggled to tear his gaze away from the bare expanse of her legs and back to her eyes.

They continued eating, though Sesshōmaru was more attuned to her every move than ever before. Still, they chatted and pretended there was no undercurrent of passion and desire between them. Their conversations centred around his trip and interesting experiences in each country he visited, and Kagome let some time pass before she continued her seduction.

She leaned back and sipped on her glass of wine as she calmly released her energy. Invisible tendrils of her reiki slid over the exposed skin of his neck, slipping underneath his shirt to touch his chest and tweak his nipples. He stiffened. A strangled groan emanated from his throat. Brazenly, Kagome sent her reiki to glide lower on his body to caress his abdomen and the lower part of his stomach.

Sesshōmaru’s lashes lifted to reveal his golden eyes; pupils were blown large and black. He began to breathe heavily. Suddenly, food was no longer the object of interest for either of them. His obvious enjoyment of her seduction fed her own, and suddenly, she had to squirm in her seat. Her breasts grew heavy and tender, their nipples taut. Her thighs rubbed against each other as she desperately tried to gain some friction.

The third course was the main event. Kagome had splurged on a slab of wagyu sirloin for her take on gyūdon, beef rice bowl — a humble dish she tried to elevate. Her version had the tender cut of beef seared over scorching heat, crusted with toasted sesame seeds, and sliced thinly. Then, she drizzled them with ponzu dressing and served them over crispy rice, lightly flavoured with soy sauce and butter.

The dish had been a masterpiece – perhaps the best she had ever prepared. But, Sesshōmaru merely picked at his food as if it was coming from a second-rate take-out place. Impatient to finish the dinner, his eyes kept straying towards the direction of the bedroom.

After the beef dish, he refused any food, skipping courses left and right. Which was rude — albeit her heart soared, knowing how impatient he was to get his hands on her. Regardless, she planned to have a serious conversation with him about wasting food posthaste.

Though not before she had her way with him.

“Can we go to the bedroom now?” Sesshōmaru asked after the dish had been pushed around the plate long enough. His voice was at least an octave lower than the norm.

Kagome widened her eyes innocently and rose to her feet, and began to gather the plates.

“But… what about dessert?” She asked.

Kagome,” her mate growled in warning.

Sesshōmaru began to stand up and reach for her. With her reiki, and without her hands, she pushed him down. Swiftly, she bound his wrists together behind the chair using a manacle she had materialized with her energy.

She must have shocked him, for he was without words. He tested the bond, and it held. He looked at her; silver eyebrows arched nearly to his hairline.

“My mate,” Sesshōmaru said slowly. “It seems you were busy during my absence. I see you have prepared more than just food for this occasion.”

Kagome gave him a coy shrug and a coquettish smile over her shoulder. She took her time, sashaying to the kitchen to return the used plates and fetched platters filled with fresh berries and a bowl of homemade whipped cream. She had known it was a real possibility that they would not even make it to dessert, and so she did not bother to create an elaborate dish for the last course.

She returned to the table, pretending to ignore his heated gaze on her backside as she bent over the tabletop to set the platters and the bowls.

Then, she stepped closer to his chair and stood before him. Close enough to feel his body heat, but not touching. Languidly, she leaned over him and reached for the loosened collar of his shirt, careful not to make contact with his skin, and began to unfasten his buttons one by one.

“Kiss me,” Sesshōmaru breathed, staring up at her.

Kagome smiled sweetly and shook her head, prompting a menacing growl from him.

“No touching until I am ready for you,” she purred.

“And when will that be?”

She only smiled to reply. Slowly, as though he was a long-awaited present for her to unwrap, Kagome revealed his chest. She slipped his shirt off his shoulders and down his arms to gather at his elbows. Then, she stepped back and feasted her eyes upon her mate.

Sesshōmaru, bound, made quite a sight. Gasping, he strained against his bonds as she continued to brush his skin with tendrils of her power, though she knew he was not exerting his full strength. If he had, he would have broken free. Yet, he did not, letting her have all the control.

His corded muscles were fully engaged, rippling enticingly with every shallow breath he took. His silver hair was in disarray; head thrown back in pleasure as her reiki glided over the hard planes of his chest and stomach, swirling over his nipples to tease those hardened nubs.

Her eyes were riveted to that part of him that had swelled and pushed against his pants. A little smile — intrigued and yet so very satisfied — bloomed upon her lips.

“Sesshōmaru. I haven’t even touched you yet, and you’re already this aroused?” She purred.

His rampant arousal neither bothered nor embarrassed him. In fact, he appeared proud of his blatant attraction to her. He rolled his hips as though he was showing off beneath her gaze.

Kagome’s desire coiled tight inside her, and she felt herself getting wet between her legs, softening for him. Under Sesshōmaru’s watchful stare, she lowered herself to her knees, and the golden of his eyes deepened. His hips jerked involuntarily, engorged length straining towards her.

She planted her hands on the sides of his seat. Bending over, she put her mouth on his waistband, unhooking the fastenings of his pants with her teeth. It took her a few tries, though she did not mind, as it caused her nose to tease and rub against the muscled hardness of his lower stomach.

The bright magenta slashes that marked his ribcages called out for her, so she took a detour to trace that beautiful lines with the tip of her tongue all the way down until they disappeared underneath the waistband of his pants.

His groan, low and tortured, filled her ears. She knew his stripes were sensitive, and so she did it again. Her tongue brushed firm, velvety swipes over those enticing marks, eliciting more moans and breathless gasps from her mate.

He was so hard now. She could feel his heat on her cheek as she nuzzled his lower belly, nipping gently at the hard, sinewy planes. With her teeth, she pulled down his zipper. Seconds later, he sprung before her, the tip steadily leaking moisture that dampened the cotton fabric of his briefs.

“Kagome,” Sesshōmaru panted. “Kagome, hurry.”

She shushed him. The tip of her tongue darted out to graze the peak of the tented fabric. A quick swipe just to tease. He threw his head back and let out a guttural moan at that slight contact. His hips jerked as though he was desperate to have her mouth cover the entirety of his arousal.

“Kagome, please.” He rarely begged, but tonight, he did. That one word repeatedly slipped out of his mouth as she continuously licked at the swollen gland still hidden beneath the fabric.

“Omakase, remember?” She said, flicking a bold glance at her husband and mate. “Tonight, I decide how things will go.”

He gritted his teeth. “This is not how… ahh… the term should be interpreted…”

Kagome chuckled silently. Finally, taking pity on him, she used her hands to undress the rest of him, slipping his pants and underwear off his hips and his legs, baring him entirely to her gaze.  

He was fully naked now. His erect shaft rose proudly from his groin, long and thick, with prominent veins running along its length that practically begged for her tongue to trace. The sight of it was enough to make her core weep with need.

There was no question that her mate and husband was the epitome of male beauty. Even with his hands tied behind his back, silver hair unbound and streaming all around him, he looked so powerful. His chest heaved with his laboured breathing. His heavy-lidded gaze was focused solely on her. With his looks alone, he communicated there was nothing he desired more in this world.

Just her.

Kagome rose gracefully to her feet and began to undress, shimmying out of her dress until she stood before him only in the pair of black and red lace and the matching panties she had selected with him in mind.

Sesshōmaru let out a shuddered breath at the sight of her, dressed only in her filmy lingerie. He was not one to wax words upon words of flattery, but the hungry, thirsty way he looked at her, bewitched by her, was more than any compliments she could dream of.

She took a step and stood between his parted thighs, leaning over to offer her breasts. Immediately, he took the bra clasp between his teeth and ripped it apart. Kagome had selected a pair with the fastenings on the front precisely for this reason. Her breasts were unbound, the twin mounds spilling out of their confinement.

He groaned hungrily and took a nipple into his hot mouth, swirling his tongue around the hardened bud before he suckled it. Her womb clenched. She wanted to stay and have him lavish attention upon her breasts, her needy nipples. Yet, it was not time, and she had other plans.

Sesshōmaru growled angrily when she stood up again, taking her breasts with her. The sun had disappeared completely. Had it not been for the candlelight, their home would have been plunged into darkness. His golden eyes glittered as he watched her in the dimness of the flickering flames.

Even restrained, he still had the aura of a predator.

Kagome was nearly naked now, wearing only her pair of very flimsy, very revealing lace panties. Those golden orbs darkened as he dragged his eyes from her head to her toes. His lingering gaze on her unbound breasts felt like a heated caress on her skin, making her nipples grow even tauter. An appreciative hum — or, more like a soft growl — emanated from his throat.

The way his eyes adored her made Kagome feel like a goddess.

It emboldened her, this blatant desire she saw in his eyes and the rigid stance of his shaft. Seductively, she took off her panties and unpinned her hair, letting the silky, wavy mass of raven tresses spill over her shoulders and back.

His cock twitched at the sight of her hair down, curling around her in unruly waves. Clear fluid beaded on its slitted crown as he stared at her neatly-trimmed mons.

“Kagome.” His voice was so low and gravelly that she barely recognized it. “Released me at once.”

She ignored him again. Unhurriedly, she lowered herself to her knees. She might be kneeling, but she had never felt more powerful. She knew he fully expected her to take him into her mouth. On an ordinary day, perhaps she would have. But today, she would like to play a little more before she used her lips and tongue to pleasure him.

She had given him a little taste earlier. Surely, now he could wait a little…?

Kagome placed Sesshōmaru’s turgid cock on her cleavage and pressed her breasts together, clamping his length between the two soft mounds. He let out a strangled shout when she began to massage him thus. Instinctively, he raised his hips, thrusting between the twin globes of flesh in smooth, heated glides. The steely hardness of his length was such a contrast to the softness of her breasts.

Their eyes collided at the same time her tongue licked at the head peeking out between the cleft of her breasts. His breathing hitched; his thighs spasmed as he worked his hips, thrusting between her bosoms. His copious precum made his shaft slick, and she used it to glide him smoothly.

“Kagome. Please.”

Again, she took pity on him. Sesshōmaru’s groan was long and low when she finally took his sex into her mouth, laving his velvety length with her tongue. She lavished attention upon the head, sucking it while swirling her tongue around the engorged tip.

That tender place between her legs ached with want. She lowered one hand to touch her swollen clit, rubbing and massaging it in circular motions in sync with the rhythm of her suckling.

Sesshōmaru craned his neck to look at her.

“Kagome. Are you… touching yourself?”

Her answer was a low hum, but she did not stop the motions of her hand. He must have heard just how wet she was. How she continued to ready herself for him, two fingers now stretching her tight passage in preparation to receive him.

Yes, he knew exactly what she was doing.

The sound of his groan was low and tortured. “Kagome. Let me do it. Let me put my mouth on you…”

Sesshōmaru was gasping as though her taste was his sustenance, and he was so parched without it. Kagome shook her head and kept on sucking the head of his cock, hollowing her cheeks, relishing his taste and moans as she did so. He was desperate for control, for more, and thus he raised his hips and began to thrust into her mouth, pleading brokenly for her to take more of him. Kagome relaxed her throat muscles and lowered her head to engulf as much of him as she could.

He thrashed in his seat, head thrown back, hips undulating to the rhythm of her suckling. His wrists flexed and railed at the bondage, and she felt the surge of his yōki thrashing against her power. At one point, she thought he was breaking through his manacles.

Then, the struggle stopped.

And suddenly, she felt it: that searing, crackling signature feel of his yōki.

Without popping him out of her mouth, she trained her blue eyes on him.

“Sessh… you—“

Kagome nearly choked on a scream when his aura pressed against her core. It felt as though he had his mouth on her, licking, nibbling, sucking. A shaft of energy slipped beneath the seam of her sheer panties and snaked into her opening. She shook and cried out, helpless to stop that tendril from massaging her sensitive inner walls. She wanted to lay back on the floor and let the fiery tongues of his yōki ravish her.

“Turnabout is a fair play,” Sesshōmaru said. “Wouldn’t you say so, Kagome?”

She flashed him a heated look, and he responded by arching a haughty eyebrow. He was becoming too cheeky for her liking. Perhaps she could stuff something in his mouth to give those beautiful lips a task.

Kagome rose to her feet and climbed on top of him, carefully straddling his hips and using his broad shoulders as support. They had made love in this position countless times before, yet she had always had his hands to steady her. His strength to control her, move her, and fuck her like she was nothing but a ragdoll on his lap.

Now, with his hands bound behind his back, this was all her.

Now, they were much closer than before. Her nude breasts were flagrantly displayed in front of his face. She could feel the rippled muscles of his stomach on her soft belly—his turgid, heavy arousal pressing tightly against her mound.

He took to her breasts straightaway, practically rubbing his face against them, burying his nose in her cleavage to breathe in her scent. Hungrily, he suckled her as though the taste of her nipples was the only thing that could sustain him.

Kagome began by slowly rubbing his length along the wet seam of her sex, whimpering at the solid feel of him. Her tunnel wept, begging to be filled. She had thought she could do this for longer, but there was a gnawing emptiness inside her that refused to be ignored.

With one hand, she steadied herself; the other reached back to take him in her grasp, and slowly, she lowered herself, whimpering at the stretch and pressure as she slowly took him inside her body.

It had only been three weeks since the last time they made love, but she was tight.

When finally she took as much of him as she could, she began to move up and down his length. Slowly at first, as the feel and the pressure of his sex nearly overwhelmed her. She continued her steady rhythm, rising and falling on his lap. Her swollen bundle of nerves rubbed against his pelvis, sending sharp jolts of pleasure to course from her womb and throughout her body. She grew wetter; lewd noises of her buttocks slapping against his thighs were loud inside their home, mingling with the combined sounds of their harsh breathing, gasps, and moans.

When the head of his cock rubbed against a secret spot along the front of her wall, Kagome shuddered. She arched backwards, arms extended behind her to find purchase on his knees as she gyrated on his lap and focused on that one place where the pleasure quickly brought her to completion. She was so wet now, squelching and drenching his lap.  

His name was upon her lips when she reached her peak. Unable to maintain her rhythm, she shuddered and quivered atop him, clenching around his thick shaft as though milking him for all he was worth.

With a bestial growl, Sesshōmaru’s control snapped, and so did her reiki shackles.


The sight of her climaxing so freely, so unapologetically on top of him fuelled his desires to breaking point. She was so wet, she dripped all over his pelvis. The heady sweet scent of her release made it even more difficult for him to keep himself sane.

Any semblance of decorum was now forgotten. With his unfettered hands, he lifted his mate off his lap and brought her to the table. Impatiently, he swept his forearm over the surface, pushing the numerous platters of fresh fruits and whipped cream off to the floor Berries were scattered, and the cream spilled. Plates, glasses, and cutleries fell onto the ground with loud clatters.

Neither cared that their table was a mess or that their house looked like a crime scene.

Sesshōmaru bent Kagome over the tabletop. Her breasts were pressed against the cold marble, the hard points of her nipple grazing the glossy surface.

He dropped to his knees behind her and pushed her legs apart, opening her entirely to his gaze. She could see herself in the reflection of the polished glass tiles along the backsplash of their kitchen counter. Her flushed, dishevelled, flustered appearance of a woman about to be fucked within an inch of her life.

Before long, his hands were gliding along the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. His long, elegant fingers parted her swollen, soaked lips. Kagome keened a high-pitched wail when his mouth firmly clamped onto her sex, his tongue finding her needy bud straightaway and sucking it without reservation. Her hips moved on their own accord, seeking more friction until he clasped her waist tightly and limited her motions. He angled his head perfectly to mouth that little morsel so swollen from their extended foreplay.

Sesshōmaru brought her to another peak before he deemed it time to stand and positioned himself behind her. The tip of his cock nudged her entrance, and he began to push in. His hands spread her ass cheeks wide, so he could watch himself disappearing into her.

“Sessh… I can’t,” Kagome whimpered when her narrow passage refused to yield.

Even with her previous orgasms, with her thighs pressed together, she was too tight in this position. Impatient, Sesshōmaru snarled and hoisted her left leg, lifting it until the inside of her thigh rested against the marble top. She was open now, unprotected. Then, he notched the head of his sex at her opening and began to push. Kagome hung her head low and sobbed brokenly, choking around his considerable thickness.

“Three weeks, Kagome,” Sesshōmaru whispered in her ear. “It seems I need to remind your body to whom it belongs.”

With those words, he snapped his hips and slid inside her, parting the tight flesh that had not felt any caress during his absence. She cried out, spasming as he gored her open, carved room for himself inside her clenching heat. And, gods, she gushed around him, coming almost instantaneously from the enormity of him filling every inch of her. Her cries of frustration bent into pleasure as his girth pressed upon all her sensitive spots.

Her body surrendered, and she took the entirety of him, her stomach bulging slightly against the chill of the stone tabletop. He felt so different in this position, indisputably more massive. The stretch and pressure were nearly unbearable, but it was precisely what she craved: this full sensation, to be overwhelmed with depth and heat and girth, and her sex convulsed happily around him.

Sesshōmaru caged her small frame between his arms, lowering his torso so that her sweat-sheened back rubbed against the solid wall of his chest with every thrust. Their respective energies surged and met, mingling and crackling around them, brushing electric sensations upon their skin. She arched her spine, her hand reaching back to caress his cheek as he rested his chin on her shoulder.

“Kagome,” he gasped in her ear, biting her earlobe. “Kagome, you feel so good around me.”


Kagome nearly came again from just that admission. The knowledge that she gave him such pleasure elevated her desires to a feverish pitch. His hands were on her waist, just above her hipbones, anchoring her as he pounded her fast and hard.

One particularly rough thrust had her seeing bright stars. The way he rubbed against the front wall of her sex had her quivering. Her mouth was hanging open, yet she could not speak, could not breathe, could not do anything but writhe. Sex with her mate was always too much, and yet not enough. It was always so intense, even when he was being gentle.

And when he was rough and unleashed like this, fucking her unapologetically, she soared higher. Her reiki lashed out, only to be met with a surge of his yōki, and they melded again. And every time she thought she was going to shatter, she ended up hurtling over the precipice and climaxing. Eyes screwed shut, her mouth opened in a silent scream when her next orgasm came upon her. He growled low in her ear and encouraged her, grinding deep to prolong her pleasure.

When her body was lax again, his hand travelled to her jaw, angling her head just so their lips could meet. A broken rendition of his name was upon her lips, and she whispered it over and over in time with his thrust before he took her mouth, swallowing her cries as he kissed her.


Kagome felt so voluptuous all wrapped around him. Tight, warm, and so very wet. His hand squeezed itself between her stomach and the edge of the counter, sliding down until he reached that place where she took him deep. His deft fingers traced the puffy labia, feeling how her opening was stretched to its limit.

“Sesshōmaru,” she whimpered against his lips. “Gods. I’ve missed you. I’ve missed you. I was so incomplete without you…”

They had been together for two decades, and still, he was not good at waxing poetry with his words. Kagome could take his breath away with only one look and a few spontaneous words, while he remained a bumbling idiot when it came to verbal expression of love.

But he would show her how these past three weeks had been torture without her beside him—a veritable hell.

Sesshōmaru took his time kissing her shoulder and slowed down, dwindling his pace to something languid and unhurried. Her skin looked golden under the dancing flames of the candle. As soft as pressed velvet, slick with sweat, and he kissed and licked every bit of what was within reach. He pulled out slowly, dragging his cock along her passage, making sure she felt every inch of it.

And she did. Kagome shuddered and moaned underneath him, arching her back as he trailed his tongue from her nape down to her shoulder blades, kissing and nipping gently at her skin. His hands caressed her breasts, kneading the soft mounds, tugging at the hard nipples until she mewled and whimpered uncontrollably.

Sesshōmaru left her breasts in favour of holding onto her upper arms. He kept his tempo slow, but each thrust was hard, jarring her body. She would have slid further up the table had he not held onto her arms securely.

But, when she began to tighten and release around him, massaging and milking the engorged length she hosted inside her body, he could only take it slow for so long.

He twirled her thick locks of hair along his forearm and pulled her gently, arching her back taut against him. Her body was soft and pliant, submissive as she let him take complete control. She cried out when she felt him burrowing even deeper into her. Her spine bowed taut and graceful, pushing her bottom even tighter against his pelvis. He quickened his pace and slammed into her repeatedly like this, keeping her suspended over the precipice of pleasure.

Each thrust bounced her against the table, punching out harsh gasps from her lungs in time to the tempo of his pounding. He felt her gush around him as her climax began. He watched her face on the mirrored backsplash of their kitchen; her blue eyes glazed and shone, tears streaking down her cheeks as she shook and convulsed with the force of her orgasm. He shoved his hand between her legs, pinching and teasing the swollen, rigid bud at the apex of her thighs. She tensed and bucked against him and started climaxing all over again.

Kagome shook for a long time, her orgasm this time lasting longer than her previous ones. Its force depleted her, and she slumped over the table in a heap of loose limbs and sweat-slicked skin.

Sesshōmaru bent and dragged his lips over her satin-smooth back, made slippery with her perspiration.

“I am far from sated,” he murmured in her ear. “Do you think you can seduce and tease me thus and not suffer the consequences?”

She warbled incoherently. He gave her shoulder one last kiss before he dragged himself out, making sure he did so excruciatingly slow. Kagome shivered and arched her back again; a keening sound came out from her throat as he made her feel every inch, every ridge, every vein scraping the walls rendered so sensitive by the repeated climax.

When the head of his cock finally popped out of her, he stepped back just for the joy of watching his semen dripped out of her in thick streams along her inner thighs.

The sight of her drenched with his seed pacified that part of him that was possessive, beastly, and utterly starved for her.

Not for long, though.

Gently, he coaxed her to turn around. He summoned his mokomoko and spread the warm pelt over the table before he laid her on it, making sure his fur cushioned her back comfortably.

Her face was flushed. Her tearful blue eyes appeared bright and shimmering compared to the blushing pink of her cheeks. Her lower lip was red and swollen from her teeth.

Even with a tear-stained face, she looked so beautiful, so desirable. With the back of his hand, he caressed her, taking his time to graze her cheek, her neck, her breasts — lingering for long moments to tweak her nipples. There was a smear of whipped cream along the inside of her right breast, and he licked it clean. A crushed strawberry was stuck midway along her torso, and he happily gobbled it as well, nipping and nibbling at her flesh as he geared up for the next round.

Sesshōmaru painted her nipple with a bit of whipped cream and bent his head to take the stiff peak into his mouth. He suckled her, relishing the sweet taste of the cream on her skin. Kagome mewled as he worshipped her sensitive breasts.

Worshipped her body. Worshipped her.

He laced his fingers with hers and lifted her arms until both her arms were above her head, pinned down onto the table.  

“Can you bear it a little longer, Kagome?” He asked as he nosed her cheeks, licking at the tear-stained skin.

Bear it?” Her voice was so hoarse, her chuckle sounded like a wheeze. “I insist on it, mate. Have me as you will. This is also part of the Omakase.”

He joined her chuckle, laughing quietly against her cheek. Sometimes when he looked at her, his chest was filled with so much love he could scarcely breathe.

This is not how the term should be interpreted, he had said. How wrong he was. This was precisely how it should be. During the past few months, he had been busy running and expanding his empire of corporations. There were millions of decisions he had to make — big and small, and every little step counted. The weight of those decisions had burdened him and made him weary, body and soul. How delightful it was to be able to surrender to her lead, to simply enjoy her ministrations — though he did get extremely impatient during some parts of the evening.

He hoped one day she would give him free rein over their evening. He was nowhere as good a cook as she was, but he would make up for his lack of culinary skills in other ways.

“Then,” Sesshōmaru said before he bent to kiss her lips tenderly. “Allow me to indulge some more.”

It was impossible to take her in small doses. Whenever they made love, he wanted to gorge on her. And his beautiful mate, with her generous heart, indulged him each time.

He sipped at her mouth and suckled her lower lip, gently nipping on the delectable flesh. She responded to his kisses with equal fervour, shyly meeting the bold explorations of his tongue.

His large frame eclipsed her as he lay on top of her. He positioned himself at her entrance and slid into her welcoming heat. Kagome was so sensitive now; she climaxed when he entered her again. And unlike before, she engulfed him, and he bottomed out easily. Almost immediately, as his pelvis settled against her core, she wrapped her legs around his waist.

From the way she locked her ankles behind the small of her back, keeping him deep inside her, he knew what she wanted.

Sesshōmaru laced their fingers together and pinned her hands above her head, limiting her movements. His hips set a languid rhythm. He kept himself clasped tightly inside her, staying so deep she would feel as though he was rearranging her insides. He moved only an inch or two in and out of her, just enough to create the delicious friction that made her writhe and mewl underneath him, and clenching, clenching, her core tightening up so lusciously until she exploded around him once more with a soft, shuddering cry.

Several years ago, when they had been in the process of furnishing their home, they had argued back and forth about the surface being counter or table height. He was glad that he won, because the table height was perfect for him to pound her properly.

And, as he increased the strength and pace of his pumping, he was happy he insisted on yōkai-made furniture, as no human carpentry could possibly withstand the force of his thrusts.

If this had been up to him, he would have continued until sunrise. But her body was demanding his seed. It tightened around him, milking him, sucking him.

And there were her whispers in his ear, inflaming his desires. Her voice was rough from so much screaming, driving him to the cusp of insanity. Don’t stop, don’t stop. You’re so deep… It feels so, so good. And with each breathy syllable, his beast preened, howling with pride that they had pleased their mate.

“Come inside me,” Kagome pleaded. “Come…”

There was nowhere else he would rather spill his seed than deep inside his mate. His beast demanded it; this privilege as her male to fill her womb until his semen flowed back out of her because she was simply too full.

He had to release her hands to plant his palms on the table, giving him the leverage to fuck her harder. He pumped her deep, the way he knew she liked, and she scored his back with her nails to let him know just how much. Each thrust had the head of his cock pushing against the spongy wall of her cervix. With every thrust, her tunnel clenched tightly, fighting to keep him inside.

But, as much as he knew she enjoyed the deep-seated nudges, what she needed right now was friction.

He pulled out until only his tip remained inside her and plunged to the root. The power behind his thrust punched the air out of her lungs. He came down over her and canted his hips high, and repeated the motion. Again, again, again. He increased the speed and the force until tears streaked down her cheeks from the intensity of their coupling. Tilting his hips very slightly, he hit the spot deep inside her that had her eyes rolling into the back of her head and her toes curling against the small of his back.

Kagome did not last long before she convulsed around him, her lips latching onto his nipple as another bout of orgasm washed over her. He had to stop moving, for she tightened with such force that the pleasure nearly blinded him.

“Kagome. I’m close, I’m so close,” he moaned, burying his face in the spill of her hair. He held himself, struggling to weather the clenching and the fluttering of her tunnel, the undulations of her hips as she rode her orgasm. She was so wet, she drenched him.

His hips moved again as soon as she relaxed her grip around him. No finesse now, only raw needs. So far gone, he could barely sustain a rhythm. He felt her suckling his nipples, biting his chest. Red bled into his vision when her blunt teeth clamped around that hard bud and her pert tongue laving at it as though to soothe the burn.


The last few pumps of his hips rattled her, body and soul; she would have peaked again had her body still possessed an ounce of strength to give. But she was depleted and so utterly satisfied.

Sesshōmaru kept on grinding against her as though he did not have enough, as though he had no plans to vacate her body any moment soon. And she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and clasped him to her, holding on tight as he quaked with the force of his release, spilling jet after jet of seed inside her.

Afterwards, when they were both limp and sated, they lay still for a while, enjoying the closeness and the silent intimacy. Moments later, Sesshōmaru stirred and lifted himself off her body. 

“That was a great meal,” he said as he gazed upon her, even though they skipped three courses out of six. The third dish was only moved around the plate, barely eaten. He touched her cheek gently and flashed a quick grin. “My compliments to the chef.”

Kagome laughed so hard that she slipped off the table. Fortunately, Sesshōmaru deftly caught her before she hit the floor.


After every lovemaking, Sesshōmaru insisted on a long soak together inside their bathtub. When they renovated the penthouse, he had insisted their general contractor install the largest freestanding tub available in the market, precisely for this reason.

Aftercare was a crucial part of their intimacy, and the tub was an inherent part of it.

Kagome’s limbs were soft like jelly, and her body was so delightfully sore. Walking was not an option, and thus Sesshōmaru had gently carried her and deposited her into the steaming tub. She was bone-weary, but so very content. She curled up against her husband’s chest, submerged in the water to her shoulders as he squeezed a sea sponge over her exposed skin.

“How was your evening?” She asked languidly, shifting just slightly to nestle more against his body.

Underneath her ear, his chest rumbled with quiet laughter. He ran the sea sponge gently over her skin, scrubbing her shoulder in circular motions.

“It was the best evening,” he said and kissed the top of her head. “But, any evening with you is bound to be the best, my mate.”

Now, it was her turn to chuckle.

“Out of curiosity,” he said as he gently massaged her scalp. “What were the dishes that I missed?”

“Crispy burdock root and mushroom salad.” She shifted to settle more comfortably in the crook of his body. “Some imported cheeses, and fresh berries with cream for dessert.”

“I had the berries and cream,” he reminded her. “I ate them off your skin, which you have to admit, was rather a genius way of eating berries and cream.”

She rubbed her forehead against his clavicle and laughed. The silent rumble of his laughter accompanied her giggles.

“Mmmn. Save the rest for a midnight snack,” he said. “After round two.”

She smacked his chest playfully. “Round two?” She repeated. “You mean round four?”

“Hnn. Don’t even bother counting, mate,” Sesshōmaru said haughtily, biting her ear. “You will lose track before the night is through.”

Kagome giggled again before she settled back on his chest. For a moment, there was comfortable, companionable silence—only the sounds of the water trickling from the sea sponge to her shoulders.

“Twenty years,” she sighed contentedly as her fingers idly grazed the magenta slashes on his ribs. “How do you feel about that?”

“Frankly, my mate,” Sesshōmaru said, cupping her jaw gently and angling her head so they could stare into each other’s eyes. “I could go for another two thousand years, and then some more.”

Kagome smiled and lifted herself to press a kiss upon his lips.

“Consider it done.”


INUYASHA © Rumiko Takahashi/Shogakukan • Yomiuri TV • Sunrise 2000
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