Three Knocks on the Door by Chiaztolite


Another three knocks on the door had him opening the door so very slightly. His face looked even paler, as it always was after an episode like this morning. Still, the corners of his lips twitched in a little self-deprecating humour.

It amazed her that after all this time, he still felt it necessary to feel embarrassed in front of her.

He let her inside. Ravel’s piano solo was still playing from the smartphone he had left haphazardly on the floor. Kagome bent to pick it up, the beautiful trills of piano keys accompanying her on the way up to full height.

Sesshōmaru took it from her hand and turned the volume down low.

They went into his immaculate kitchen, and she set the pastry box on the counter and began to open it up, unloading one decadent creation after the other. Sesshōmaru always preferred the plain ones: a well-crafted butter croissant – simple and without frills, with nothing to hide any imperfections. On the other hand, she liked hers stuffed with cream, custard, or jelly, drizzled with chocolate, and then dusted with icing sugar. Their tastes were as different as night and day, but after a few years of her visits, they had become friends.


“I have no milk,” he said as he went through the motions of making their tea. “I'm sorry."

His voice was steady, but she detected the tremors in his fingers as they rattled the teacups and saucers.

She went to him and took his hands, steadying them.

"Is that why you tried to leave the apartment?" She asked. "To get milk?"

Sesshōmaru nodded solemnly; fair lashes lowered to shield his darkening amber eyes. "I know how you take your tea."

He pursed his lips, looking quite remorseful. Kagome wrapped her arms around him and held on tight. The tremors were deep within his muscles. He quivered like a taut string plucked, and she felt the vibrations throughout his limbs. She rubbed his back in wide circular motions, knowing the simple gesture comforted him.

They held onto each other for a while, until his lips gradually travelled to her ear. He kissed the sensitive spot on the underside, slowly trailing down the side of her neck before he mouthed that tender place at the crux of her shoulder, biting gently. Kagome moaned, clutching his arms as she held onto him, unsteady on her feet. His tongue traced the groove of her clavicle as his hands skimmed up her thighs, pushing the hem of her sweaterdress upwards. Cool air brushed against her bare legs. Then, with one quick pull, he peeled her dress away from her body and onto the floor it went.

With powerful arms, he lifted and sat her down on the edge of the counter. His lips returned to her neck as his fingers sought the center of her, pushing the bridge of her panties aside as they caressed her damp folds. Her own hands were no less busy. They fumbled with the fastenings of his belt, of his trousers, until they freed him and wrapped themselves around him. She groaned low in her throat when she found him already thick and swollen.

He moved his hips forward at the same time she pulled him to her core, both gasping at the feel of them touching, hardness sluicing against the soft. He planted his hands onto the counter, not yet breaching her but just rubbing his length there. All the while, he buried his face in the crook of her neck, kissing, biting as he glossed himself in her wetness.

She clasped him to her. Sometimes, he would be needy and desperate like this. Wanting touch, wanting to hide from the insecurities he felt from his inability to leave this place. And every time, she was only too happy to provide that hiding place for him.

This morning, it was no different. Once again, he was seeking solace in her embrace. And she'd follow him anywhere, like a seashell carried away by the current of the ocean. Swept away in his kisses, his passion.

And, like always, she welcomed it.