Swan by DeadlyGlacier

Swan

Swan

Sesshomaru checked his phone for the umpteenth time that evening, sure that it was probably the fifth time within the hour.  He was going to stay until eleven—that was what he was telling himself.  He’d always tried to avoid these excursions with his colleagues (and that was a generous term for the fools), but tonight they’d roped him into coming with them somehow.  It would be the first and last time he ever came to something like this—he swore it on his ward’s grave.

The former demon lord-turned CEO glowered at the crowd of his fellow demons, men who considered themselves on his level of the company he ran—accountants, investors, department heads… Idiots, the lot of them, staring up at the stage and dancers with wild lust and fistfuls of money.

Sesshomaru rolled his eyes.  He didn’t understand the appeal of the private strip club, located at the very top of a highrise in the middle of Tokyo.  It catered to only demons, and the dancers were all of demon blood—or so he heard.  Full-blooded and half-blooded women (and a few men) paraded the long stage, enticing the low-level demon businessmen to hand over their money (in amounts that would make even modern humans faint).

He sat at the very head of the stage, where it came out at a rounded platform, a long silver pole affixed from ceiling to floor.  Apparently, it was an honored spot in the private club, but Sesshomaru got no enjoyment from it, despite his colleagues’ insistence that he sit there.  So he watched boredly from the prime spot, citrine eyes lazily scanning the stage, lit with lights in shades of red, pink, and purple.

Dancers continued to gyrate and tempt the demon men in the crowd from the stage:  a pair of twin dragonesses with pearlescent white scales, their hair dramatically long mohawks of gold; a group of five kitsune women with voluminous red hair of differing shades and lengths, as well as a multitude of tails between them all; a bear demon in a gold speedo, crawling on the far end of the stage, towards a group of enraptured businessmen, with a flash of his large fangs in a mischievous smile; and finally, a tall, lithe cat demoness was dancing on the pole in front of Sesshomaru, with long violet locks of wavy hair and sharp yellow eyes that stared at him from upside down as her body slid towards the stage on the pole.  She smiled at Sesshomaru, and he did not return it.

It wasn’t long before the dancers were handed wads of cash for a private show, and one by one they left the stage, leading lone or groups of businessmen to the VIP rooms.  When the stage was cleared the pulsing music stopped, the emcee for the evening—a squatty raccoon demon with a fat striped tail—sauntered onto the stage.

“Now that our most popular performers are otherwise occupied, it’s my pleasure to announce a very special solo performance by a remarkable young woman,” the raccoon said proudly.  “There are very few humans that are privy to our world, and this girl is no exception—she’s known of our kind for a long, long time, in fact.”  A murmur of excitement moved through the crowd, and even Sesshomaru lifted a curious eyebrow (but said nothing).

The raccoon went on, “I’m delighted to introduce you to her!  Gentlemen, please give a warm welcome to our princess of purity—the Priestess!”

Even before the stage curtain pulled back, a familiar scent wafted under Sesshomaru’s sensitive nose, one that reminded him of his days of freedom—centuries ago—before the world was taken over by concrete, machinery, and foul-smelling air.

It was a delicate scent—of jasmine and summer rain.

So, so familiar…

When the curtain lifted away, it revealed a woman obscured by two enormous feather fans, her midnight eyes peeking coyly over the top.  The music started, and the fans fluttered away.

Sesshomaru’s breath caught.

It couldn’t be…

The strange priestess his brother traveled with all those years ago, the feisty one with sacred arrows and the obnoxious yellow bag.  He’d thought her clothing odd and revealing then, but now…

She wore a lingerie set that was equal parts elegant lace and sexy straps—almost entirely transparent, but a pure white over her creamy, unblemished skin.  The cups over her breasts only partially covered the generous swells of flesh in floral lace, nearly spilling out over them.  Thin straps criss-crossed over her upper chest in a v-shape, supporting the thin and nearly-nonexistent material.  A matching garter belt was fastened about her slim waist, attached to a set of sheer white stockings with a fishnet pattern.  The thong panty also matched, sitting high on the delectable curve of her hips, and her entire outfit was covered in little jewels that glittered in the colored lights.

Sesshomaru’s eyes travelled downward to her feet which were dressed in white platform stilettos—the back cupped around her heel in statin, and the front covered almost all of her toes, save for the first two that peeked out just barely.  The edges were trimmed in lace, and the heel was startlingly high for a woman who’d been known to be quite the klutz the last time he’d seen her.

The Shikon Priestess moved slowly and gracefully with her feathered fans, throwing coy looks through her long, flirty lashes into the crowd.  The song she danced to was sensual and lent itself to her swaying hips and waist.  It was hypnotic.

She made her way forward, towards the pole in front of Sesshomaru, having tossed her fans away to free her hands.  She stopped before the rounded platform, rolling her hips forward in liquid smooth motions, running her hands down her body—over her breasts, over her flat stomach, and over her hips and thighs—and then back up again, into her curled ebony tresses, lifting the mass of locks up and up until they tumbled back onto her shoulders.

That was when their eyes met.

The rolling of her hips paused just a moment, the corner of her midnight irises catching his gold in the low light of the club.  She turned to face him fully, a hint of a smile on her pale pink lips, parted just enough in a sensual sigh.

She got on all fours, her back arching and bowing with the music, then getting on her knees and impressively bending backward onto the floor, showing her flexibility.  She arched her back again, her arms out, reaching for her admirers on either side.  She rose again, turning away from Sesshomaru, giving him the full view of her derriere, so perfectly rounded in a heart-shape.  She threw another coy look over her shoulder as she bent over in a suggestive position, especially for a dog demon such as himself.

The display drew lewd cheers from the demon men on either side of her, but she never acknowledged them, only looking at Sesshomaru.

She flipped her hair and stood, once again facing the former demon lord, and approached the pole before him.

The Priestess confidently mounted it, locking their gazes together before spinning around, the muscles in her thighs clenching to hold her in place at the center.  She flipped and spun, tricks and twists, stunts that made the crowd gasp and cheer.

But her eyes remained on Sesshomaru.

He stood when she came to a slow stop, the music fading to the pulsing beat of a different song, and Sesshomaru approached the stage, holding out a folded wad of cash.

The Priestess smiled and bent down, opening her beautiful pink lips for him.  Sesshomaru carefully slid the money in her mouth, and then offered his hand, which she took.  Her nails were painted a glossy scarlet, and her toes were the same.

The demons witnessing their boss retrieve the dancer for himself hollered to him, offering money to join them, but Sesshomaru paid them no mind, his golden eyes locked on this woman, this strange, mysterious woman from his past.

“Shall we?” he asked her softly, barely audible over the club’s music.

The Priestess nodded and held his hand, leading him off to the private VIP room.

Behind a velvet purple curtain, there was a plush couch of the same material, under a dim red light, and a champagne bucket placed nearby, supplied with a couple glasses.

He had no interest in drinks—only her.

He sat, and she straddled him as another song started to play.  The music was slow to build, and the woman in his lap rolled her hips in time with it, her finger running over his lips.  A faint pink light glowed on that fingertip, tingling his entire mouth.

When the beat rose, tension rising high and tight, so did she, her glowing palms running over his suit.  He felt the holy glow seep into him, not harming him—but teasing, stimulating.  The tingles went wherever she put her hands:  down his torso to his abdomen, dangerously close to his cock, up his arms, and around his neck.  Sesshomaru tilted his head back, his eyes going hazy from the oddly pleasant sensation, and he brought his hands up her waist, just to feel her.

And then the beat dropped.

She became a wild animal in his lap, some kind of creature that was half-snake, half-cat as she slithered and stretched and teased.  One moment her body faced him, undulating and grinding—the next, it was the opposite, sliding to the floor and displaying that lovely rear just for him.  The loss of that holy touch drove him mad, but he didn’t dare move as she flipped over and spread her legs up and out, giving a sultry stare.

Her hands slid up his thighs, glowing, tingling.  A groan escaped him, but it couldn’t be heard over the pulsing rhythm.

She was back in his lap moments later, her pink-lighted fingers grazing between his thighs.  His lips parted, and his hand reached out to touch along the leg that draped itself over his shoulder.  She smiled down at him, slipping a finger into his mouth.  He moaned, the tingles shooting down his tongue and into the rest of his body.

Sesshomaru had never felt anything like it.  He shuddered.

Any more of this, and he would be driven wild with lust—if he wasn’t already.

All he knew was that he had to have her.

Tonight.

Tomorrow.

Perhaps forever.

Sesshomaru swallowed, finding himself breathless from her teasing.  He drew forward, running his tongue between her breasts, and moaned at the taste of jasmine and rain.  His tongue ran up her cleavage, up her chest, up to her throat, and ended the trail at the edge of her chin.

He wrapped his arms around her, looking up into her glittering eyes.  They were full of warm lust and a twinge of amusement.

He ran a clawed finger over her lips, so perfectly pouty and pink.

“How much?” Sesshomaru asked her.  “For you to come home with me.”

The Priestess grinned, flashing her straight human teeth before sucking on his finger.  He groaned.

Her arms wrapped around his neck, and she continued to grind on him.  He hissed a breath through his teeth.  When his finger left her mouth, she spoke.

“For you, my lord, it’s free,” she said softly.  “I only ask one thing.”

“Anything, temptress,” Sesshomaru told her.

The Priestess smiled that frustratingly coy smile, her glowing fingertip tracing his stripes, making his cheek tingle, “Tell me my name.”

Sesshomaru’s mind was blank, and he closed his eyes with a growl.

“Shit.”

o0o