Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/699572.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Tsubasa:_Reservoir_Chronicle
  Relationship:
      Sakura/Syaoran_(CLAMP)
  Additional Tags:
      Lemons, Sexual_Fantasy
  Series:
      Part 7 of Lemon_Collections
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-02-25 Chapters: 8/? Words: 34457
****** Lemon Reservoir ******
by ParadiseAvenger
Summary
     Anything you want or imagine... any fantasy you have... any desire
     that wakes you in the night, panting and sweaty... can be found in
     the Reservoir of Lemons, but only for a price. A collection of one-
     shot citrus for SYAORAN and SAKURA. Canon, fluff, AU. Requests
     welcome.
***** Sakura's Sickness *****
Summary: When Sakura doesn’t come to work, Syaoran decides to check in on her,
but he gets a little more than he bargained for.
X X X
It had been raining for almost three days straight. It was a steady downpour
that flooded the gutters and caused pedestrians to run for cover under
umbrellas and awnings. Thunder rumbled occasionally, but other than that the
storm was quiet. It was good weather for sleeping or telling ghost stories or
for making love.
The café across the street was packed to bursting with its stock of hot soup
and hotter coffee. Rain pattered against the windows and coursed through the
streets. The cars drove slowly and carefully. Drivers hunched over the steering
wheels, windshield wipers whup-whupping steadily across the glass.
Not many people were in the mood for ice cream on a chilly rainy day like
today.
Sakura didn’t show up for work that day and she didn’t answer her phone when
Syaoran called her on his break. As the day progressed, Syaoran grew more and
more concerned. By the time his shift ended, he was nearly in a state of panic.
He didn’t even put on his raincoat and forgot his umbrella in the parlor as he
dashed for the bus stop. He overpaid the bus driver and took a seat near the
front. The sixth stop couldn’t come fast enough. When the bus finally ground to
a halt outside Sakura’s apartment building, Syaoran exploded out of the bus and
rocketed through Sakura’s lobby.
The man behind the counter shouted at him, but Syaoran was already in the
elevator and punching the up arrow. Apartment 7B was dark and Sakura didn’t
answer when he knocked several times. He called her name and knocked harder,
but she still didn’t respond. Syaoran was about to kick the door in when he
heard coughing and shuffling from inside the apartment.
“Sakura?” he called.
The lock on her door slid back and she opened it.
His mouth went dry and his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. “S-Sakura…?”
She coughed weakly into her hands and leaned heavily on the doorframe. She was
wearing only a long-sleeved cotton shirt and some pale pink panties. Her feet
were bare and her hair was lank and damp around her face. Her jade eyes were
red-rimmed and watery. Her skin was shiny with a sheen of sweat and very pale.
She looked in danger of collapse.
Syaoran quickly wrapped her in his embrace and supported her slender body
before she could crumple. Her body was burning with fever and her breath was
ragged.
“Sakura?!”
“Syaoran, what are you doing here?” she asked and her voice was weak. “I’m
contagious. Stay away…”
He swept her up in his arms and carried her out of the threshold. He kicked the
door shut with his foot, brought her to her bedroom, peeled back the blankets,
and laid her down in her bed.
“If you stay in these wet clothes, you’ll only get sicker,” Syaoran murmured
and felt her forehead with the back of his hand. She was burning up, but it
appeared about to break with many a few more hours of sleep.
She pushed at his hands. “I’m contagious and I don’t have the strength to
change.”
“Just entrust your body to me,” he whispered and smoothed some hair back from
her face. “Let me help you.”
“I’m contagious,” she whispered.
“That’s okay,” he murmured and reached for the buttons of her pajama top. She
was wearing no bra underneath and her smooth creamy skin was flushed and pink.
Her breasts were round and full, nipples raised into hard peaks with the chill
air against her naked heated skin. He pushed the shirt from her shoulders and
tried not to stare at the exposed creamy skin.
He went to her closet and opened a few drawers in search of some pajamas. He
only found a shirt of his that she had stolen, but it would have to do. He
returned to Sakura’s side and helped her sit up. Her fingers wrapped around his
wrist and guided it to a place it shouldn’t have been.
...
Sakura’s head felt fuzzy and her chest was fluttery. Butterflies the size of
jets had taken up root under her ribs and sought to take flight inside her
body. She was cold, shivering with her fever. Only one thing she was completely
and utterly sure of and that was that Syaoran was here in her apartment with
her and she wanted him, badly.
She watched him blearily shuffling through her drawers and finally producing a
shirt to replace the soaked pajama top she had been wearing. Finally, he
returned to returned to her side and the mattress dipped beneath his subtle
weight. She caught his hand as her went to pull the shirt over her head and
guided it to her chest.
His palm closed over her round heated breast and she pressed his grip tighter
around her sensitive mound.
“Sakura!” Syaoran tried to pull away, but she closed both her hands over his in
an attempt to keep it on her breast. After a brief scuffle, Syaoran managed to
get his hand back on his own body. “What are you doing?”
She pressed her naked chest against his and put her warm hand between his legs.
“I want you, Syaoran,” she moaned. “I always have. I want you inside me.”
He pushed her back and pinned her to the bed. “Sakura, as appealing as that
sounds, you’re sick. At the very least, you have to wait for your fever to
break,” Syaoran protested and wrestled the shirt on over her head.
“No,” she said and tightened her arms around his torso.
“Sakura, let me get a compress for your forehead and then I’ll lay with you for
a while,” he said, “until you fall asleep.”
She nodded blearily, already falling asleep. She had already forgotten what she
had said, or had she…?
...
Sakura woke up feeling fine and dandy in Syaoran’s arms the next morning. Her
fever had broken sometime in the night and she was well rested. The only thing
that troubled her was the fact that her memory of the night before was a little
fuzzy. She remembered asking Syaoran to be inside her, but she couldn’t
remember if he had done as she had asked. But she was still dressed and so was
he so she assumed he hadn’t.
She was wearing her favorite pink panties and the shirt of Syaoran’s that she
had stolen after a particularly long night together. Smiling to herself, she
rolled over and swung her leg over Syaoran’s narrow hips. She splayed her
fingers on his chest and then bent over him so that her hair curtained their
faces.
His amber eyes fluttered open and she said, “Good morning, sleepyhead.”
“Hey,” he murmured sleepily and tried to sit up.
Sakura kept him pinned to the bed with her hands and kissed him fiercely. He
touched her legs, ghosting his fingers over her smooth bare thighs. She moaned
into their heated kiss and sucked his lower lip into her mouth. He groaned in
bliss and cupped her buttocks lightly.
She pressed her pelvis down hard on his growing erection and rocked her hips.
He groaned, his jeans were too tight, restraining his desire to be inside her.
Suddenly, Sakura sat up and dragged him from the bed. Pulling on the front of
his shirt, she led him down the hall to the bathroom. She turned on the water,
adjusted the temperature, and then peeled her shirt over her head. She drew
Syaoran into another kiss.
He lifted her onto the vanity and positioned himself between her thighs. She
moaned and gripped his butt to pull him closer to her core. Then, her hands
wandered to pull off his shirt. She touched his chest, tracing the planes of
his muscles and then following the path her fingers burned in his skin with her
tongue.
Suddenly, Syaoran pulled back. “You’re still sick,” he protested.
She grinned and licked his throat, lingering on his pounding pulse. Her naked
skin pressed against his bare chest, nipples hard against him. “Not anymore. I
want you, Syaoran,” she said. She wiggled against him and managed to get off
the vanity. She kicked off her panties and stepped into the shower, pulling the
curtain closed behind her.
Syaoran hesitated and then pulled down his jeans and boxers. His straining
member thanked him as he pulled back the shower curtain and slid in behind
Sakura. Hot water coursed over his back and face and shoulders. Sakura was
already soaked to the bone.
She had her leg up on the rim of the tub and her hand at her core. She was
moaning and working her core with her fingers. Syaoran slid two digits into her
from behind and she arched back into him, trying to push him deeper inside her.
“Syao,” she murmured and his name ended in a mewl of bliss.
Syaoran suckled the back of her neck and took his finger from her core. She
whimpered at the loss, but he cupped her breasts in both hands and fondled them
almost roughly. Sakura moaned and pushed her ass back against his straining
length. He groaned and thrust against her.
She reached behind herself, gripped his cock, and guided him to her dripping
entrance.
“Inside, Syaoran, inside,” she chanted.
Smoothly, he took her from behind. Her breath exploded from her lungs and her
muscles clenched down on him so hard it was almost painful. He groaned and
squeezed her breasts, flicking her nipples between his fingers. Sakura pushed
her ass back toward him, forcing his length deeper in her slit so that she felt
the head of him pressing against her womb.
She moaned.
Syaoran pinned her against the wall. Sakura put up her arms against the cold
tile and spread her legs to give him better access. He thrust into her, setting
an easy rhythm. Sakura was moaning his name like a mantra, over and over, and
bucking to meet his thrusts. He drove into her, feeling the coil building and
building in his abdomen. Sakura’s muscles clenched around him and he came
inside her, hot cream coating her insides.
She almost collapsed, but he supported her.
“Sakura, are you alright?”
She panted for a moment, unable to catch her breath. Their lovemaking always
took her breath away, knocked it right out of her lungs. Syaoran’s chest was
heaving as well and she could feel his heart knocking in his chest through her
back. Her breasts were spilling out of his hands with each breath she took. She
grinned and gasped as he pulled out of her.
“Never better…” She wrestled around in his arms and kissed him passionately,
battling his tongue for control of the kiss. Finally, she gave up, but smiled
cheekily and said, “Maybe I should get sick more often.”
He groaned good-naturedly.
X X X
Questions, comments, concerns?
***** Club of Abuse *****
For TrueDespairOverlord.
Summary: Tortured and controlled by her boyfriend, Sakura is trapped in a
relationship that may cost her more than she is ready to pay. It’s up to her
best friend Syaoran to save her body and her mind.
X X X
The club was throbbing and pounding in the twilight hours. Neon pulsed and
whined in the still air, lighting up the stars. The line to get in was a block
long.
Syaoran knew the bouncer, Kurogane, and was hustled right into the club. He
paused to ask for Sakura and was told that she had arrived half an hour earlier
with her boyfriend. Even burly brusque Kurogane looked a little worried, no,
actually a lot worried. A knot of nervousness was twisting around in Syaoran’s
stomach, sending a finger of ice down his spine.
The late night crowd of young people had already packed the club to the brim:
vampires and vampire-hunters wannabes, glamorous promiscuous girls, foreign
young men and women with beautiful accents and strange outfits, gothic black-
and-purple youths, several people were wearing medieval gowns or decked out in
African ensemble in numerous colors and patterns or Japanese kimonos or very
American jeans with white shirts or Vietnamese Ao-Dai, and a few youngsters
wearing normal street clothes.
There was so much flushed shiny polished skin exposed for viewing that it may
have well have been a nudist colony.
Backstage, numerous bands were lining up to play. The regular band, The
Avengers, had already opened and the second amateur band was cuing up to play.
The bar was tended by the usual maid, Mirror. She had a perfectly divided face,
strange but beautiful. Half of her mouth was painted bright red and perpetually
frowning, half plain and curved; one eye blue with long black lashes, the other
brown; one brow sculpted, the other heavy and dark; half of her hair cut short
and flaming red, the rest straight and long and black. The left side of her
face was distinctly Asian with the dark hair and slanted blue eye, heavy brow
and red mouth. The right was aristocratic, sculpted like the ivory planes of
Nefertiti’s famous bust, but fit easily with the flaming choppy hair.
Syaoran went right to her, pushing through the crowd of young men pining for
her attention at the crowded bar. Mirror waved him behind the bar and shoved a
chilled martini glass into his hand. Without waiting to see what was troubling
him, she popped a cherry between her teeth and pursed her lips around it and
plopped a few ice cubes into his glass.
“Drink it,” Mirror said in her no-nonsense lilting voice. She used to sing for
the club before finally reaching the legal age to tend bar. “You look like
Hell.”
Syaoran looked her over. She was wearing glossy black high heels that laced up
her long amber legs, shiny on her rich tanned skin. She wore a short fraying
denim skirt with a shift of vintage lace beneath it and a translucent red tank
top. Her bra was black and lacy beneath it and terribly obvious. She was hot
and sexy and she knew it.
“And you don’t,” he said lamely. Syaoran took a sip of the drink she had given
him just to appease her and then held it between his hands. “Have you seen
Sakura-hime?”
“Sakura-chan?” Mirror poured a Chilled Sherry and then shook up a drink Syaoran
didn’t recognize. She slid the Sherry across the bar without a second thought
and a young woman caught it. The second drink she poured into a frosty mug and
slid just as easily down the bar. “She came in with that asshole boyfriend of
hers a while ago and they went backstage. I sent Fai back to check on her, but
his band was on shortly and I don’t think he had a chance to find her.”
Syaoran took another sip of his drink without really tasting it when Mirror
stared hard at him. “Alright, thank you, Mirror. I’m going to go look for her,”
he said and scooted out through the crowd.
A girl grinded against him as he sneaked between the writhing dancers. She
grinned and there were sharp cones on her canine teeth. Syaoran slipped quickly
away from her, wiggled through the backstage door, and slammed it behind him.
Instantly, the noise of the club was muted by soundproofing and Syaoran heaved
a sigh of relief.
...
Syaoran’s relief was the exact opposite of what Sakura was feeling. The silence
backstage was deafening and her heartbeat was thundering in her ears. Her
boyfriend, Kyle, had dragged her into one of the dressing rooms where some of
the amateur bands practiced before the club opened. The room was soundproofed,
but a muted thump of the base throbbed through the walls like a second
heartbeat. She struggled against him uselessly, but he was just so much bigger
and stronger.
Kyle was a big man with long dark hair pulled back in a ponytail at the nape of
his neck. His face was firm and strong-jawed. He always looked angry and his
flint-black eyes glared through Sakura, stabbing her heart with knives of ice.
He used to wear glasses, but had switched to contacts just a few weeks ago.
She had been attracted by the aura of devil-may-care and danger around him,
but…
“Kyle, let me go,” she said firmly, but he just laughed in her face. Some
spittle flecked her cheeks and she turned her face away from him, disgusted.
“Get off!”
“You look so pretty tonight, Sakura-hime,” Kyle crooned. He licked her throat,
pausing to suck painfully on her pulse.
“Do not call me that,” she snapped. “Only Syaoran calls me that.”
Kyle sneered and pulled back to glare into her face. “You know I hate it when
you talk about that brat in front of me. Actually, I hate it when you talk
about him at all,” he snarled. “I don’t want to talk about that kid right now.
I just want to talk about you.” He kissed her, hard, pushing his tongue into
her mouth violently and quickly dominating her.
“You look so pretty,” he hissed. “I just want to ravage you. Hard and fast,
just the way you like it!”
Sakura tried to get her foot into his crotch, but he slapped her so hard her
dentist probably felt it. Spots dotted her vision, blackened it and her head
lolled on her neck as if broken. Kyle shook her and her head knocked back into
the wall. Instantly, her vision snapped back into focus and she pushed weakly
at his chest as he loomed over her.
“Kyle,” she protested weakly.
“What?”
“S-st…” she moaned.
Kyle wrapped his hand around her breast, fondling it roughly.
Sakura whimpered, but that only encouraged him.
He kissed her again, biting down hard on her lower lip. Blood blossomed on his
tongue.
She had bitten him.
Kyle struck her again. Once, twice, three times, and in such quick succession
that it sounded like applause.
Black threatened the edges of her vision, but she pushed it back.
Something pushed up between her legs, shoving her pale cotton skirt up above
her thighs: his knee. He released her shoulders where he had been holding her
steady beneath his assault and ripped open her blouse. Her breasts were full
and round, swelling up over the cups of her feminine pink bra. Without a
thought, he tore the bra from her shoulders and stomped it under his foot. He
gripped her breasts, one in each hand, and massaged them hard. Then, he pinched
her nipples between his fingers, twisted and tugged, and finally releasing her
tender tits with a painful snap.
Sakura whimpered.
He wrapped his mouth around one nipple and sucked brutally, drawing all the
blood to the surface in a purple-black bruise.
His knee pushed up between her thighs firmly, lifting her feet from the floor.
All her weight crushed down on her sensitive folds, but he heedlessly plowed
against her.
Suddenly, Kyle hefted her, forcing her legs to wrap around his waist.
Sakura dug her fingers into his shoulders and he slapped her. Her vision swam
and she almost blacked out.
Startling pain brought her back with a crash.
Kyle had pushed aside her panties and plunged first two, then four finger into
her without any heed for her dry aching slit. He stretched her and then shoved
almost his entire fist into her pussy. Sakura let out a little croak of agony
and gripped his shoulders as tight as she could, trying to assuage her pain.
He released her and she felt him fumbling between their bodies. Tears leaked
beneath her lids, trailing down her cheeks, as she tried to prepare herself for
what she knew would come. The head of Kyle’s fat dick pressed at the opening of
her core. He hadn’t taken any time to arouse her and her slit was dry and
painfully tight. He slammed into her and his cock tore her apart.
Sakura screamed in agony, but her voice was lost in the soundproofing
backstage.
Kyle fucked her mercilessly, pounding into her forcefully, slamming into her
over and over with no heed for the pain coursing through her ravaged violated
body. Sakura sobbed and her entire form shook with tremors of pain and shame.
Finally, Kyle finished, spurting hot cream inside her. His semen dribbled out
of her and ran down her leg, coating her inner thigh. He had no control and she
thanked God that she was on the pill and had been since they started going out.
He pulled out, easy now that she was stuffed with sticky cum.
He let her slump like a broken used doll against the wall. Her legs were spread
helplessly and her pink swollen core was exposed behind the twisted crotch of
her panties. Some blood dotted her inner thighs, mingling with his cum. Her
breasts heaved on her narrow chest, nipples red and puffy from Kyle’s brutal
touches.
Kyle put his softening dick back in his pants and zipped himself up. Then, his
face grew very sad and remorseful, guilty even, and he knelt down in front of
his abused violated girlfriend. He tucked a pale tuft of caramel-colored hair
behind her ear and kissed her swollen mouth tenderly.
“Oh, baby, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me,” Kyle cooed. He
wrapped her in his arms, cuddling her against his chest and breathing lightly
into her blossom-scented hair. “Sakura-hime, I’m so sorry!”
She pushed weakly against his chest, trying to wriggle free from his arms.
“Don’t call me that…” she whispered. “Only Syaoran calls me that…”
Kyle drew back as if struck and then slapped her. Sakura’s head whipped to the
side, smashed into the wall. Black touched the edges of her vision and consumed
her.
...
Syaoran heard Sakura’s scream and was tearing through the three dressing rooms
where he thought Sakura was. The first came up empty, so did the second, and
then he hurried to the third. It was locked, but he heard whimpers and smashing
sounds inside. He didn’t let the door perturb him and kicked it in violently.
The door crashed open on the sight of Kyle pounding his fists on Sakura’s face
and naked chest. Her lips were swollen and the lower one was split like a ripe
piece of fruit. Blood coursed down her face and neck. There was a big hickey on
her nipple, consuming more of her breast in dark purple-black bruise. Her legs
were spread, panties twisted over her core, and specked with semen and blood.
Sickened, Syaoran charged into the room. The howl that crawled up his throat
was animal and nothing but rage. He slammed into Kyle full-force, knocking him
away from Sakura’s prone and vulnerable body. She groaned in unconsciousness
and her jade eyes fluttered.
Syaoran slammed his foot into Kyle’s gut, knocking the wind out of the brutal
young man. Kyle swung blindly at Syaoran, but he dodged. The blow was wild,
used to connecting with helpless young women, and Kyle stumbled around Syaoran
without touching him. Syaoran used to bounce with Kurogane and was no
lightweight when it came to fighting. He could take on someone twice Kyle’s
size and win.
Kyle staggered into the wall, toppled a vase of wilting roses from the last gig
of The Avengers, and fell on his face.
Syaoran pulled off his shirt and draped it over Sakura to protect her nudity
and defenselessness. Then, he went after Kyle again. He punched the young man
several times in the face until he heard a satisfying crack. Blood gushed from
Kyle’s nose, splattering on Syaoran’s face and bare chest. He shook Kyle hard
and violently.
“How could you do that to Sakura-hime?!” Syaoran demanded and punched Kyle once
more. “She’s such a kind and beautiful girl! How could you do that to her?!” He
shoved Kyle’s face in the direction of Sakura’s violated body and then tossed
him to the floor.
Unconscious, Kyle did not struggle. He just lay still.
Syaoran ignored Kyle and went to Sakura’s side. She was beginning to stir,
grass-green eyes fluttering open and tongue working over her cracked lips.
“K-Kyle…?” Sakura croaked.
Syaoran cupped her face in his warm hands, gently smoothing some caramel locks
damp and sticky with fear-sweat back from her forehead. “No, Sakura-hime,”
Syaoran whispered. “It’s Syaoran.”
“S-Syao… Syaoran…” she whispered and a thin wavering smile of trust washed over
her face. She reached for him and he allowed her to draw him into her arms. He
pressed himself, warm and gentle, against her frail body. “Kyle… he hits me…”
she whispered. “He beats me… and he rapes me… I need… help… I need to get
away…”
Syaoran smoothed some hair back from her face. He tenderly kissed her forehead
and then her cheek. Sakura smiled contently and hugged him tightly against her.
Then, darkness came and swallowed her up in its warm welcoming arms.
...
Sakura woke up warm and safe in a familiar room. She was wrapped in a thick
Afghan quilt and snuggled under soft flannel sheets. Pillows that smelled of
wood and sunshine and Syaoran were fluffed up beneath her back and head. She
was wearing soft satin pajamas, new and freshly washed to also smell of
Syaoran’s laundry soap. She sighed in contentment and settled back against the
pillows. There was a water bottle on the nightstand and Sakura took a sip to
wet her parched mouth.
She felt energized and well-rested, recharged. As tempting as it was to stay in
Syaoran’s bed, she elected to get up and stretch her legs. She felt a little
stiff, but it was wonderful to stand and stretch. She yawned and pulled on
Syaoran’s robe that was draped over a chair at the foot of the bed. Then, she
padded out of the bedroom and into the living room.
Syaoran was sitting at his kitchen table, reading an archaeological magazine
and eating a sandwich and almost lost in the mess of flowers on his table. He
didn’t see her until she was almost on top of him. Then, with a start, he saw
her swimming in his favorite flannel robe and clad in pink satin pajamas. She
still looked a little pale, but at least the horrible bruises were gone from
her face.
“Sakura-hime, how are you feeling?” he asked and pushed out a chair for her
with his foot.
“I’m a little sore,” Sakura said and took the offered seat.
For while, they sat in silence. Sakura was staring at her hands in her lap and
Syaoran was eating.
“So,” she ventured finally, “I guess, you know about Kyle…”
Syaoran put down his meal. Suddenly, his appetite had vanished.
“You must think I’m a terrible person…” Sakura continued. “I’m so sorry…”
Syaoran grasped her by the shoulders and made her meet his eyes. The honesty
and sorrow in the depths of his amber pools burned her. “Sakura, how could you
say that?”
“Because…” Sakura whispered. “Kyle always told me what a…”
Syaoran cut her off. “Sakura-hime, that guy was an asshole and he was wrong
about whatever he told you,” he snarled and drew her into a hug. Sakura
struggled for a moment and then melted into him. Her entire body shuddered and
trembled and then she collapsed in a sobbing broken heap. He hushed her,
soothed her, and cradled her against his warm body. “Don’t listen to him.”
Sakura sniffled and gripped his shirt in her fingers. “Syaoran,” she whispered.
“Thank you. Thank you so much…”
Syaoran tucked her head under his chin and breathed in the scent of her.
It was disgusting and horrible to even imagine the things Kyle had done to her.
Sakura was so beautiful, so kind, so loving. She volunteered at the animal
shelter and the nursing home when she wasn’t working with him and Mirror at the
club. She was the one who waded through amateur band after amateur band and
turned them gently away or graciously accepted them. She was a generous
wonderful soul.
“Sakura-hime,” Syaoran whispered. He was emboldened by her vulnerability and
whispered close to her ear. “I love you. I always have…”
“Syaoran, I don’t…” she hesitated and tried to pushed herself away from him.
Syaoran, panicked that maybe she was frightened by his confession, allowed her
to push him away.
Tears glistened in her green eyes. “I don’t deserve you. I never had. That’s
why I got someone like K-Kyle,” she confessed. “I’ll never deserve you. I’m
damaged and used and…”
Syaoran cut her off with a soft timid kiss on her cheek. “Sakura-hime, Kyle is
a piece of scum. You didn’t deserve any of what he did to you. You’re beautiful
and gentle and so kind,” he murmured soothingly and touched her back and
shoulders lightly. He ran his fingers through her hair.
Then, he feathered and even more gentle kiss on her soft lips. Her eyes slid
blissfully closed and she melted into him. A moan emerged from her throat and
Syaoran found the courage to slide his tongue into her warm mouth. She tasted
sweet, like a candied apple. Finally, they drew apart to breathe and Sakura
continued to nestle against his broad chest. She felt his heartbeat thundering
beneath his sternum.
“Syaoran,” she whispered. “I… I love you, too. I’m,” she hesitated, “so glad
that you love me. You’re my best friend and we’ve been through so much
together. You saved my life.” She paused, looking deeply into his amber eyes.
“I love you, Syaoran. I really do…”
Smiling, Syaoran kissed her and this time she responded to him. Her tongue went
to dance with his in a passionate embrace. She started to fall against her, but
he lifted her in his arms, cradling her against his chest. Sakura sighed in
contentment.
He carried her to his bedroom and laid her in the sheets.
It was his full intention to leave her to rest. She had been through a lot and
he loved her, but he wasn’t going to take advantage of her while she was weak
and vulnerable.
Sakura wrapped her arms around his neck, holding his muscular frame against her
soft curves.
“Syaoran, will you stay with me, please…?” she whispered and she just sounded
so desperate and frightened, like a child, that he couldn’t deny her anything.
“Of course,” he whispered and settled in his bed beside her. He wrapped her in
his arms and she wormed her hands beneath his t-shirt to touch warm bare skin.
Syaoran was velvet-soft and his muscles clenched and squirmed under her gentle
touch.
“Sorry,” she whispered.
“It’s alright,” Syaoran murmured.
“Will you take your shirt off?”
He hesitated. “Why?”
“Just because… I want to feel you…”
“Alright,” he murmured. Syaoran sat up and peeled the shirt over his head. More
and more of his well-defined torso was revealed as he stretched his arms above
his head. A bit nervous about what Sakura would think of him, he fiddled with
his shirt and finally laid it aside.
Sakura touched his chest with the tips of her fingers and then feathered kisses
along his collarbones. Syaoran shivered under her caress.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“That tickles,” he explained.
“Oh…”
Sakura raised her chin and tried to catch his lips. She placed a worried
awkward kiss on his chin and then Syaoran angled his head to catch her mouth
against his. This kiss was fiercer, desperate, but underlined with passion and
love.
Syaoran cradled her body against his and gently cupped her breast through her
satin pajamas.
Sakura whimpered.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered and went to draw his hand away.
Sakura caught his fingers and shook her head. “No, no. That felt wonderful. I’m
just a little scared,” she confessed.
“It’s alright to be scared,” Syaoran told her. “I’m scared, too.”
She looked incredulous. “You’re scared?”
He nodded.
“What if I do something wrong? Or I hurt you?” Syaoran asked and gently took
her fragile hands in his larger ones. Her fingers were long and delicate with
polished short nails, wrists curved and slender, and pale silver-blue veins
snaked beneath her mother of pearl opalescent skin.
“Syaoran, you’re my best friend and I love you. You would never hurt me,”
Sakura whispered and timidly kissed him.
Syaoran returned the kiss and gently cupped her breast again. This time, Sakura
didn’t stop him. She moaned quietly and pushed her chest against his cupped
palm. With his free hand, Syaoran began to carefully undo the buttons of her
pajama top. She wore no bra underneath and his view of her was unobstructed.
Sakura flushed shyly, but made no move to cover herself.
“You’re beautiful,” Syaoran said tenderly.
Sakura blushed. “Thank you, Syaoran,” she whispered and took one of his hands.
He guided it to her breast, wrapping his fingers around her soft mound of
flesh. Her nipple hardened to a peak and pressed against his palm.
Syaoran cupped her other breast shyly and gently tweaked her nipples. Syaoran’s
skin was warm and soft and as smooth as velvet. The muscles of his frame were
firm, but pliable against her body, soft and strong. He was like a great cat.
Sakura moaned and pressed her bare chest against his.
Syaoran smiled, pleased.
Kyle’s skin had always been so rough from fighting and working. His body had
always been cold and hard against hers. It had been like loving a statue. He
even smelled like pigeon crap and sometimes something worse.
When he made love to her, he had been brutal and heedless of her comfort and
pleasure.
The feather-soft caress of Syaoran’s fingers on her breasts and raised nipples
was so gentle that is sent shivers through her entire body, rattling down to
her very core. Something tightened in her abdomen, similar to a coil winding
tighter and tighter. Syaoran touched between her spread thighs, tenderly
brushing her core through her satin pajama pants. Sakura felt her hips lifting
to meet his touch, bucking lewdly and the coil grew even tauter.
Suddenly, it burst.
Pleasure rocked through her body and a cry of bliss crawled up her throat. She
mewled and clutched Syaoran closer to her.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered against her cheek. “Did I hurt you?”
Sakura’s eyes opened and she gazed at him a little desperately. “That felt…
that felt…” she hesitated, appearing to be unable to find the right words to
express her feelings.
Nervous, Syaoran supplied. “Bad…?”
Sakura shook her head. “No, that felt… amazing…”
Syaoran smiled and then frowned. “You’ve never felt that before…?”
She shook her head and blushed.
Syaoran stared at her, angry and sickened. Kyle was some asshole to never give
her pleasure when they had intercourse. Then, with a jolt, Syaoran remembered
the
horrible sight of Sakura’s naked and violated body on the floor of the dressing
room. Did rapists ever care for the pleasure of their victims?
But, Kyle was supposed to love Sakura.
Syaoran kissed her cheek tenderly, lovingly. Well, he loved her and he would
make everything feel good for her. “I love you,” he whispered.
She smiled and held him closer to her body. The heat coming off of him was
soothing and she relaxed regardless of the fear she felt bubbling up in her
throat. She swallowed it as Syaoran kissed her once more and then pushed her
satin pajamas off her shoulders along with her bra. Then, cautiously, watching
the expressions on her face, he pulled her pants and panties down her long
shapely legs. Sakura slipped her legs out of them.
He pressed his bare chest against her naked body and she sighed in content
bliss.
Syaoran slid out of his jeans and laid them with her pajamas. Then, he scooted
up to kiss her lips gently.
Sakura felt his fingertips ghosting over her stomach and then the soft curls
guarding her mound. He hesitated and then slid a finger through her nether
lips, parting her folds delicately. Sakura took a deep breath to calm herself.
Equally gentle, Syaoran rubbed the head of his dick at her entrance and then,
with a careful thrust, sheathed himself inside her.
Sakura let out a little cry and gripped Syaoran’s shoulders.
“Does that hurt? Do you want me to stop?” Syaoran whispered.
She shook her head.
The sensation was strange, but not altogether unpleasant. Syaoran was big and
hard, stretching her. Her muscles clenched and milked his length as he remained
still inside her. Once she had adjusted, Syaoran gave a few experimental gentle
thrusts. Sakura moaned.
The feeling of him was so different than Kyle. Kyle always plunged into her
hard and fast without a care. The friction was always so brutal, scraping
painfully through her dry cavern. Syaoran had already brought her to one climax
and the moisture inside her allowed him to easily slide in and out of her with
each thrust. The feeling of his tenderness could accurately be called making
love. What Kyle did to her could be called fucking or rape.
Syaoran kissed her and set a steady even rhythm. Sakura lifted her hips to meet
each thrust. Once again, the coil grew tighter and tighter in her abdomen,
building pressure until she almost couldn’t stand it. Syaoran’s breathing was
hot and heavy in her ear, stirring her hair. Reaching between their bodies,
Syaoran rubbed her clit, further building the pressure and pleasure. She mewed
and moaned, clutching Syaoran’s soft hard body against her. The heat of him and
the sinuous even thrusts of his dick at the barrier of her womb brought her
higher and higher. She teetered on the edge of a knife and then climaxed,
plunging over the edge.
Syaoran followed a moment later. His cream was hot and filled her to the brim.
Sakura breathed in the scent of his sweat and his skin, mingling with the scent
of her perfume and her hair. He remained inside her for a moment, panting, and
then pulled gently out of her. He collapsed against her in the bed and pulled
the sheets up over them.
Sakura snuggled against his naked chest and there was a happy sated smile on
her face.
“Hey, Syaoran…?” she whispered.
“Yes, hime?”
“Thank you for… loving me… even now…”
Syaoran drew her against him, cradling her. “I love you, Sakura-hime, so much,”
he murmured.
“What about…?”
“He will never touch you again!”
Syaoran was so different from Kyle, so gentle and beautiful. She knew in her
heart and soul that he would never hurt her, not Syaoran, not ever. He would
always be her
guardian angel and he would save her at the greatest cost to himself, always.
Smiling gratefully, Sakura nestled in the warmth of her best friend’s arms and
fell asleep feeling safe and loved.
X X X
I own Mirror so no stealing her!
Suggestions are welcomed with open arms.
Questions, comments, concerns?
***** Monster! *****
Based on xAntiformsorax’s video “Monster” for Tsubasa/Card Captor Sakura. Check
it out at http://www. youtube. c o m /watch?v=r59t4Is8Czo&feature=related. I’ve
just changed it enough to make it a story with sufficient plot. (The song,
“Monster” is property of Meg and Dia.)
Summary: Sakura is married to Raitei and he’s turned into a monster, not the
same man she fell in love with.
X X X
The sky was crimson as if awash with blood. The clouds were thick and black as
rot. The day was fading, stormy, grey, promising rain before the night was
over. More than one storm waited and more than just rain would fall that night.
Sakura shrugged out of her raincoat in the foyer of her house and hung it in
the closet. Broken glass crunched under her feet and she couldn’t remember if
it had been the lamp or the vase she had knocked over this morning in the dark.
She helped her daughter, Miku, wriggle from her rain jacket and tucked the
little girl’s umbrella away in the big jar by the door. She hung her keys on
the peg and moved into the kitchen, holding Miku by the hand.
“Raitei?” She called in the gloom and turned on the overhead light in the
breakfast nook. The breakfast dishes were still on the table, dirty, and fat
black blow flies buzzed on the remnants of food. Sakura shuddered and gave Miku
a gentle shove in that direction. “Honey, could you toss those in the sink for
me and then go upstairs and do your homework while I look for Daddy?”
Miku was seven, but small and frail-looking. She had silver-white skin and
silver-white hair and big doe amber eyes. Her small pink mouth was curved in a
beautiful smile of innocence and love. She nodded, released her mother’s hand,
and hurried to the table with nary a grimace as the flies scattered.
Sakura loved her daughter more than anything. “Raitei?” She continued to call
as she swept through the house. There was some destruction from the night
before: a broken chair, a cracked picture frame, and a toppled couch. Nothing
really.
Sakura had been through worse.
“Raitei?”
As she turned the corner, his heated hands grasped her suddenly by the
shoulders and jerked her back into his chest. She could feel his heart
thundering behind his ribs, beating like a drum. His breath tickled the back of
her neck.
His fingers prodded against her lower back, working along the column of her
spine. He cupped her buttocks and gave it a squeeze and a small silent whimper
emerged from Sakura’s throat. She felt him inhale the scent of her hair and
then he suddenly spun her around. He pinned her against his chest and his amber
eyes were frenzied, desperate. He caught her lips like slices of meat and
devoured her.
Sakura shuddered and pushed weakly against his chest.
Raitei gripped her wrists painfully tight were there were already violet
bracelets. “Love me. That’s all I want from you, from my wife. Is that too
much? I want to feel you, Sakura! Love me,” he whispered hoarsely in her ear.
His breath stirred her hair, raised goose bumps on her skin.
Sakura embraced him against her breast.
He shuddered like a bird in her arms and she let her eyes slide closed in
bliss.
This was the man she had married: sweetly dependent, loving, playing games,
hiding, and begging.
Then, suddenly–!
Raitei gripped her short caramel hair and pulled her head back, twisting her
neck at a strange angle. Tears pricked Sakura’s eyes, welled, and trekked
slowly down her cheeks. Raitei’s amber eyes drilled into her, darkened with
some emotion she couldn’t fathom.
“Raitei,” she whispered and choked as he pulled her head back even farther.
“Do you love me?” he snarled.
Sakura’s voice was cracked and thick. “Yes, baby, of course,” she whispered. “I
love you.”
He gripped her lower lip between his fingers, pinching hard. The skin split
like overripe fruit and blood ran down her chin in a ribbon. “You’re a liar.
What kind of monster lies about her love for her husband? Why?! Why does no one
love me?!” he shrieked and then threw her away.
Sakura’s back slammed into the uprooted couch and for a moment she thought he
had broken her spine. Pain was so white-hot in her veins that for a moment she
couldn’t move her legs. Whimpering and sobbing, Sakura wrapped her hands around
her knees and dragged her legs to her chest. To save her life, she crawled like
a worm from a bird.
Raitei crumpled in a heap. He sobbed into his hands, entire body shaking. His
little whispers of love me, love me, sounded like a wretched prayer.
Sakura licked the slit in her lip.
Her desire to go to him was almost overpowering. He was the man she had
married, the father of her child, the twin brother of her best friend, and he
was hurting. She was a nurse and compassionate by nature. She wanted to help
him, save him, even at the greatest cost to herself.
As sick and twisted as it was, in a way, she still loved him.
“Mommy?” a little voice whispered from the doorway.
Sakura’s head snapped up at the same time Raitei’s did. His amber eyes were
wild and Miku’s were terrified.
“Mommy?!”
Sakura saw Raitei’s shoulders bunching as he readied to spring like a jack-in-
the-box and she leaped for her daughter before he could get to her. Hunched by
the pain in her back, Sakura gathered Miku in her arms and hurried to the
foyer.
“Shh, shh, baby,” Sakura whispered. “We’re going to play a game, just like we
did last night, okay, baby?”
Miku nodded.
Then, Sakura put her daughter in the closet and put her aching back against it.
She wiped her lip with the back of her hand and there was so much blood, too
much. Some dripped on the floor among the shards of broken glass.
Sakura wondered when her life had gotten so messed up.
Raitei did not follow for a while.
Then, he appeared at the mouth of the hallway. His shirt was off and his pale
naked skin gleamed with sweat in the dim light filtering in from the kitchen.
His dark chocolate hair hung in his face and his eyes glowed in the dark like
the eyes for some creature.
“Sakura,” he cooed. “Love me, baby, love me…”
Sakura could hear Miku sobbing in the closet and she rapped her knuckles on the
door to remind the child to be quiet. “Raitei, please, you don’t want to do
this,” Sakura said with a tremor in her voice.
He cocked his head as if that thought puzzled him. Then, he shook his head.
Silver glinted near his thigh, hung from his hand like a piece of the broken
moon.
Sakura’s throat went dry.
He had a knife.
The hallway suddenly seemed so short, not enough space, not enough time. Sakura
wrenched the door open and grabbed Miku tightly by her skinny little wrist.
Then, she jerked the front door open and Raitei’s breath was hot on the back of
her neck.
The knife bit into the back of her shoulder like a shard of ice.
Sakura screamed in agony and shoved Miku out the door, shouting, “Go to
Syaoran!”
The last thing she saw was her little girl’s terrified face as the door swung
shut.
Raitei howled. “You love him! You love him and not me! You always have, you
little bitch!”
The knife caught the light from the fading sun, glinting red and silver.
The last thing Sakura saw was that knife coming, down, down, down…
Outside, it began to rain.
Miku ran through the dewy wet grass, soaked to the skin. She was seven, only
seven, and Syaoran lived so far away. He had a pretty little brick house
fourteen blocks over with a nice little flower garden and a neat little white
fence.
Miku heard her mother screaming and her father howling, but she couldn’t make
out what they were saying. All she heard were their voices. She ran a little
faster, feeling as if she had wings in the night. Rain blinded her, lashed at
her cheeks so she didn’t realize that she was crying.
She didn’t knock. She slammed into Syaoran’s door, not even realizing that she
had made it so far.
Sobbing, she waited for her uncle to open the door.
When he did, she wasn’t taken aback by his appearance even though she had never
seen his poor injured skin in such entirety before.
“Miku?!”
She couldn’t form words. “Mommy…! Daddy…! There was… a knife… and blood… and
blowflies!”
“What?!”
“Monster!”
And that was all she had to say. Syaoran pushed her into his house, closed the
door, and took off running for the house fourteen blocks away. He was greatly
aware that by the time he got there, it may already be too late.
There was no one in the foyer of his brother and Sakura’s house when he barged
through the door, but Syaoran could hear soft music coming from somewhere. He
barreled through the house like a charging rhino, through the filthy kitchen
and the uprooted living room and the broken glass in the foyer, and finally the
bedroom.
There, he found Sakura and Raitei.
Sakura was spread-eagled on the bed, not tied down, but just tossed carelessly.
Her white skirt and pale white polo was stained with blood. Her shoulder and
most of her chest and stomach was almost black with it. Her thigh had a deep
gash in it, oozing thick blood. Her skirt was shoved up over her hips and her
white panties were showing with a faint flush of pink where the fabric was
crinkled up. Her caramel hair was spread across the white sheets and lacy
pillows. Her skin was glossy and translucent and chalky-pale. Purple bracelets
encircled her wrists and ankles.
Syaoran had always thought his brother’s wife was beautiful.
He dashed to her side and put his fingers to her pulse. It was weak, but
present.
Water was running somewhere and Syaoran glanced up from Sakura’s pale face. The
bathroom was aglow with candles and scented with something fruity and sweet.
Flies buzzed around the doorframe. Raitei’s silhouette flashed on the walls and
he had a big jug in his hands. Syaoran watched him pour the contents of the jug
into the bathtub and then exit the bathroom, continuing to pour whatever was in
that jug all over the floor.
Syaoran smelled gasoline.
His heart skipped several beats.
Terror welled up in his throat and he quickly grabbed Sakura’s frail body in
his arms. She was limp and heavy, dead-weight. Her hair tickled and whispered
over his bare arm and she groaned in her sleep. Blood welled up in the crease
of her lips and ran from the corner of her mouth.
Unable to chance a confrontation, Syaoran quickly carried Sakura from the
bedroom and out of the house. He could hear Raitei screaming and throwing
things and then, everything was silent. It was eerily silent with only the
sound of the rain.
Then, with a whoosh, the house went up in flames.
The rain was coming down in stinging sheets, washing sticky warm blood from
Sakura’s body. A chill ran down his spine and his naked chest prickled with
goose bumps. Her hair pasted on his bare skin, catching the dips and bumps of
his terrible agony. Her breath rattled in her chest and rain filled her mouth
and eyes like tears welling up in every orifice. The wind howled through them.
Syaoran clutched Sakura tightly against his chest and hurried back to his house
where he had left Miku.
...
Sakura came to in the hospital almost a week later. Her chest was tight and
sore and her heartbeat actually hurt. Groaning, she turned her head to the side
and immediately saw Miku coloring busily in a coloring book with a brand new
package of crayons.
“Miku, baby,” Sakura whispered. Her voice was dry and squeaky.
“Hi, Mommy,” Miku said cheerfully and touched Sakura’s arm in place of a hug.
“How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine,” Sakura groaned. “What happened?”
“Raitei tried to kill you,” Syaoran said as he entered the room. “Hello,
Sakura. I wish we were meeting again under better circumstances.”
“Raitei tried to kill me…?” Sakura whispered and her eyes slid closed.
Syaoran perched on the edge of her bed and touched her hand. “I’ve been taking
care of Miku while you were hospitalized. We couldn’t find the numbers or
addresses of any next of kin. I hope you don’t mind,” he murmured.
Sakura shook her head. “No. Thank you,” she whispered and closed her eyes.
Almost inaudibly, she murmured, “Raitei tried to kill me…”
Miku went back to her coloring book.
Syaoran turned his head the way he always did, hiding from her, and touched her
hand gently. Some chocolate feathers of soft hair fell against his cheek. “Why
didn’t you tell me?” he whispered so Miku wouldn’t hear.
Sakura licked her lips. The split in it was healed and tight itchy new skin was
stretched over the space. She fisted her hands in the sheets. “We all have
secrets, don’t we, Syaoran?”
They both knew what she meant.
Syaoran’s hand instantly went to his face, covering the web of damaged skin. No
one had ever seen his entire body since the “accident.” As his best friend,
Sakura always wanted him to talk about what had happened, but he never wanted
to speak of it. He didn’t need the analysis.
This was her quiet way of getting back at him.
Sakura touched her chest lightly and then peeked beneath the winding of white
gauze. “Could I see my chart?”
Syaoran took it from the foot of her bed, keeping the injured side of his face
from her view, and handed it to her. She looked it over and her face only grew
grimmer and grimmer.
“He stabbed me…” she whispered.
Syaoran nodded sadly and murmured, “Four times.”
“Twice in the stomach, once in the back of the shoulder, and once in the
thigh,” Sakura read monotonously.
Miku looked up from her coloring book. “Syao, could I have a dollar for the
soda machine?”
“Of course, honey,” he said and rummaged through the pocket of his pants. He
produced a dollar and handed it to her. “Don’t be too long.”
She nodded and skittered out of the room.
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about this,” Syaoran whispered.
“I can’t believe you never noticed,” Sakura snarled and then she hurled her
chart at him. It glanced off his shoulder and the metal clip sliced a thin line
across his
cheekbone. Blood welled and rolled slowly down his face like a tear.
Catching the drop on his fingertips, Syaoran looked sorrowfully away from her.
He looked at the blood on his hand and then delicately wiped it off on a tissue
from the box at Sakura’s bedside. “I’m sorry, Sakura. I’m so sorry,” he
whispered.
Sakura put her face in her hands and sobbed. “My husband tried to kill me… God,
how’d this happen? What if he comes back?”
Syaoran murmured, “He’s dead.”
“What?”
“He burned himself. Your entire house is gone.”
Sakura looked up and gazed at his sad and noble profile. “A fire,” she
whispered. She reached out for him and he rose from the chair to come easily
into her arms. Pressed against her, smelling wonderful and warm in her hands,
Sakura realized how much she loved him. Syaoran was her best friend and she had
intentionally hurt him. Sakura cupped his face, feeling alternately the smooth
unblemished skin and the bumpy damaged skin. His eyelashes fluttered against
her palm and a hot drop of his blood rolled down her wrist. “Syaoran, I’m
sorry,” she whispered.
“It’s alright,” he whispered and hugged her to his body tightly. She could feel
the damage to his body through his clothes.
Tears pricked at her eyes. “I don’t know what I’m going to do, Syao,” she
whispered.
“You can stay with me for as long as you need to,” he told her gently and then
he pulled away. She saw a flash of broken skin on the back of his hand near his
wrist: more damage.
“What happened… to you, Syao…?” Sakura whispered.
He paused at the threshold. “…a fire…” and that was all he said.
Then, he was gone and the door swung quietly shut.
...
Sakura and Miku had been staying with Syaoran for over two weeks. Sakura’s body
was fully healed and Miku had come to love Syaoran as much as her own father.
They were a loving happy dysfunctional family of heartbroken people who had
been damaged beyond repair.
Every day, Sakura went to work and Syaoran saw Miku off to school. Syaoran
worked from home as a successful musician. Then, Miku came home from school and
spent the rest of the day with Syaoran at his piano. Sakura came home later and
she and Syaoran fixed a wonderful dinner. (There were no flies in his house.)
At night, they all stayed up watching television until Miku fell asleep. Miku
slept in the spare bedroom, cuddled up with Sakura, and Syaoran slept in his
room with the door wide open.
As of late, Syaoran and Sakura were becoming especially close. They lay on the
couch with Miku between them, cuddled close and warm. After Miku had fallen
asleep one night, Sakura lifted her chin and brushed her nose against the
smooth skin of his jaw. He turned to look at her and their lips were so close
that she felt his breath on her face.
“Syao,” Sakura whispered and before she realized what she was doing, she had
pressed her lips to his.
Syaoran jerked away as if struck. “Sakura, no. We can’t!”
“Why not?” She felt tears in her voice, in her throat.
He tried to push away from her, but she fastened her fingers around his wrists.
“Because… I’m damaged.”
“What…?”
“I don’t deserve you…”
“But, I… love you, Syaoran…”
He turned to gaze at the lighted moon of her face. “Me…?”
Sakura nodded and gently kissed the corner of his mouth. Syaoran turned his
face to hers and kissed her passionately. Sakura touched his chest, running her
fingers down the hard frame of his abdomen. The muscles contracted beneath her
fingertips. She kissed the soft hollow of his throat and suckled lightly on the
tender flesh. A small moan crawled up his throat.
Miku shifted in her sleep.
“Wait,” Syaoran murmured.
They both gazed at the child between them and then glanced nervously at
Syaoran’s bedroom doorway.
“She’ll be alright,” Sakura whispered and touched Syaoran’s face.
He nodded, eyes fluttering closed in bliss at her touch.
They stumbled into his bedroom and Syaoran pushed it closed while Sakura
flicked on a dim table lamp. Then, they pressed back together in a warm
passionate knot on the plush bed. Sakura slid her fingers in the waistband of
Syaoran’s pajama pants and he gently slipped his hands up the back of her
skirt. She wasn’t wearing a bra and he traced the knobby length of her naked
spine. She kissed his mouth, pouring all of her love and desperation into him.
Syaoran moaned.
She reached beneath his shirt, felt the first craggy bumps of his damaged
flesh, and he instantly jerked away from her.
“No…” he said desperately.
“But, I want to see you…” she whispered.
“No, please, no,” he begged. His amber eyes shone in the dark.
“Alright,” Sakura whispered and he nodded gratefully.
Then, he allowed her to pull down his pajama pants. He peeled her t-shirt over
her head and she pressed against him. He cupped her full breasts. There were
two big wounds in her chest from Raitei’s attack and her nipples hardened in
the chill and from arousal. Sakura gently wrapped her fingers around the long
soft length of him. He pushed up against her hand like the blossoming head of a
fern. Then, his fingers were sliding down her thigh and gently nudging aside
her panties. She knew she was wet and hot for him, but the intrusion of his
finger inside her delicate core was a pleasant pressure.
She moaned and arched her hips against his hand, pushing him deeper.
They fell back on the bed and Sakura straddled his narrow waist. The mushroomed
head of him pressed at her slick entrance and, with one swift thrust, he
entered her. She whimpered and moaned, writhing in pleasure as he stretched and
filled her. She pressed her palms against his chest, feeling his ribs and the
soft fabric of his shirt beneath.
“Syao,” she whispered as he began a slow and even rhythm. “I love you…”
He gasped, “I love you, too.”
They made love.
With Raitei, sex had always been brutal and violent. He would pin her arms
above her head and slammed into her over and over. Sometimes, he experimented
with bondage and rough ropes. His favorite was hard anal sex and cruel double
penetration. Other times, he bent her over and fucked her doggy-style. It was
always uncomfortable and painful.
With Syaoran, he touched her gently. He cupped her breasts and tweaked her
nipples. He reached between them to offer her extra stimulation. He asked her
what she wanted and if what he was doing felt good. He kissed her often and
gently.
Sakura moaned in intense pleasure and felt the throes of her very first orgasm.
Syaoran’s length pulsed inside her and something hot filled her to the brim.
Exhausted, she collapsed next to him on the bed. For a long time, they lay
together naked, panting. Then, Sakura laid her hand over his stomach. The
muscles rippled and tensed, warm and smooth.
“Sakura,” he whispered.
“Yes?” she asked sleepily.
“It was a fire,” he murmured.
“A fire?” She opened her green eyes and gazed at him lovingly.
He nodded. “Raitei burned me. He doused me in gasoline and burned me,” he
whispered.
Sakura touched his scarred face and thought of the bumps she felt beneath his
shirt.
Raitei had hurt him, too.
Just like he had hurt her.
Sakura kissed his gently. “I love you, Syaoran,” she whispered.
“I know,” he murmured. “I love you, too.”
He wasn’t ready to show her the scars he had and she wasn’t ready to tell him
about all the things she had suffered at Raitei’s hands. Life was far from
perfect, but it was beautiful and messy. Bad things happened, but there was
always a silver lining.
For Sakura, it was Syaoran.
For Syaoran, it was Sakura.
For Miku, it was finally having a family that wasn’t perfect, but was at least
loving and gentle.
X X X
Questions, comments, concerns?
***** The Country of Hot Springs *****
And this one is soooooooooo long. Try to stick it out, everybody.
Summary: After the trauma of Acid Tokyo, Kurogane and Fai pay a price to get
the travelers into a world where they could take it easy for a short while, but
the Country of Hot Springs packed more of a punch than expected.
X X X
Yuuko’s long dark hair was mussed around her angular face from lack of sleep.
She had just nodded off when Black Mokona, curled up beneath her breasts, got a
call from the corresponding White Mokona. Kurogane, crimson eyes shadowed and
barred, and Fai, with his gouged eye covered in “Syaoran’s” black patch, waited
for her on the other side of the portal.
Fai gave her an amicable smile, but it was strained with pain and worry.
“Hello, Yuuko-san,” the magician said.
Kurogane grunted.
“Hello,” Yuuko returned and sat up in her bed. She swept her tousled hair over
her naked shoulders and adjusted the low neck of her silk nightgown. “Can I do
something for you?”
Fai lowered his eyes. “Actually, Yuuko-san, is there any way we could choose
our next world?”
Yuuko gazed at them, rubbed her face with her hands, and sighed. She nodded,
but continued in a low voice, “It is possible, but if you chose to return,” she
looked at Kurogane, “say to the country of Japan, the price would be far too
high.”
Kurogane shook his head. “No, we just want to get the kids someplace where they
can rest for a while. We’ve been through Hell here and they need some time to
get used to each other again.”
Yuuko smiled to herself. They were becoming close. The Kurogane that had
arrived at her shop would never have sacrificed anything for the sake of
another. “Alright, yes. I can arrange that, but it will have a price.”
Fai stepped forward. “Both of us will pay,” he said.
Mokona bounced onto Kurogane’s head and said, “Mokona, too! Mokona will pay,
too!”
Yuuko did smile this time. She loved these people, these children, and not for
the first time she wished that they would not suffer so. Not for the first
time, she wished she could interfere and destroy Fei-Wang Reed, but no such
ability rested within her power. “Alright,” she said and then smiled
mysteriously. “The payment has been received.”
The payment was their love for each other, the bond that had survived even the
terrible effects of Acid Tokyo.
Then, the portal flickered out.
Kurogane, Fai, and Mokona were left staring at the place where the Dimensional
Witch had been. Then, they all looked at each other questioningly, exchanging
confusion. Kurogane grunted and shrugged. Fai’s blonde brows were raised.
…
Two days later, they left Tokyo and landed in the Country of Hot Springs.
They landed in an unceremonious heap in the next world. Syaoran first, flat on
his back on top of a fallen log, drilling his spine with a broken branch.
Sakura was next, falling hard on top of him with one leg on either side of his
narrow waist. The buckles for her the brace on her leg dug into some exposed
skin where his shirt had ridden up in the transport. Fai hung upside-down by
one leg from a nearby tree, swaying idly and grinning from ear to ear. Kurogane
had gotten the worst of it. He landed on his head and toppled over into a
puddle of muddy water. Mokona floated down and perched delightedly on his head
with a small laugh. The quarrel ensued instantly.
“You call that a landing, you white pork bun?” Kurogane demanded and snatched
the little creature up in his big hands. He squished Mokona a bit.
Fai intervened. “Now, now, Kuro-daddy, it’s not Mokona’s fault.”
“Don’t call me that!”
“What would you prefer? Kuro-chan? Kuro-poo?” A vein ticked in Kurogane’s
forehead and then Fai was on the receiving end of the wrath but not even close
to stopping. “How about Kuro-cutie? Kurga-lurga?”
Syaoran and Sakura, being used to this, ignored them. She pushed carefully off
of him and staggered unsteadily on her feet. Syaoran wanted to help her, even
if he could just place a soft hand on her shoulder or support her elbow a
little, but she didn’t like to be touched. At least, not by him, not anymore.
Some degree of pain and sorrow must have shown on his face because Mokona
bounded onto his shoulder and nuzzled his cheek.
“It’s okay, Syaoran,” the Mokona said and he gently pet the little creature’s
head.
Sakura stumbled into Fai’s open arms and looked back at Syaoran with that
mixture of disgust, fear, and sorrow burning in her jade-green eyes. He quickly
averted his gaze, hating to see that she despised him as something less than
human. Fai’s eye flashed gold and his pupils slit at the scent of blood wafting
around Sakura, but it only lasted a second. Kurogane offered a hand to help
Syaoran up though he did so a little warily.
Everything between them had changed since Tokyo.
The group set off at a brisk pace in the direction they heard commotion. Fai
carried Sakura lightly in his long arms and Mokona rode on Syaoran’s shoulder
and Kurogane trudged behind them.
The market square they stumbled into appeared to be turn-of-the-century middle
ages. Venders shouted their wares, boasted hot drinks, and breathed on their
hands to keep away frostbite. Knights on horseback and lords in carriages
thundered down the snowy cobbled street while ladies in fur coats walked the
stands.
It was Fai who spotted the pub first and suggested they use Sakura’s good luck
to gamble some money from this world. Kurogane and Mokona readily agreed, but
Syaoran hung back. Bar brawls could get ugly and he didn’t want the princess to
get hurt. Fai assured him that everything would be fine and it was.
After collecting enough winnings for several nights at the inn, new clothes,
and food, Fai suggested Syaoran take Sakura to the local hot springs he had
heard about in the pub.
“But–” Syaoran protested.
“Go on,” Fai persisted and waved a long-fingered hand nonchalantly. “You’re
more injured that Kuro-rin and the onsen does wonders for that. Plus, Sakura-
chan can’t walk for a long time. We’ll join you after we’ve finished shopping.”
“But–”
“It’s a mixed bath so you won’t even have to leave Sakura-chan. Now, here,” Fai
handed Syaoran a small purse of gold and silver coins. “Go on, shoo!” He set
Sakura down and held her hand until she was steady before letting go. “Come on,
Kuro-daddy, we’ll join the kids later.”
Ignoring Fai but understanding his ulterior motives, Kurogane snatched Mokona.
“You come with us, white pork bun,” he said.
“Okey-dokey, Kuro-daddy,” Mokona cheered.
“I said don’t call me any stupid nicknames!”
“Help! Mother Fai, Daddy’s going to get Mokona!”
Laughing, Fai dashed to the rescue and the trio raced away up the street. This
left Syaoran and Sakura with no chance to argue about their current
predicament. For a long moment, they both just stood there, staring at anything
but each other.
…
Reaching inside for whatever reserves of strength he had, Syaoran put on a
gleaming false smile. “Well, hime, shall we go to the springs? Fai-san didn’t
leave enough money for an inn so we don’t have much of a choice.”
Sakura shrugged her slim shoulders, but didn’t turn to look at him as she would
have with his image. He swallowed the knot in his chest.
“Hime?”
“Yes, alright.” Sakura wrapped her arms around herself for some guard against
the cold winter air that the Tokyo rain cloak did nothing to stop and began to
limp away.
Syaoran took a few steps and caught up with her easily. “Hime, would you like
me to carry you?”
“No! I’m alright.”
His heart ached at the sight of her, so small and fragile-looking, so thin. Yet
she would sooner fall than let him touch her, help her. Sakura cared only for
the image.
They had reached the bridge that led to the springs when Sakura had to stop and
rest. She leaned on the rail and gazed at the water but could see her
reflection through the steam. That was good because she didn’t want to see her
features marred by the cruel expression she always seemed to wear around this
Syaoran. She didn’t even know why she was like this. It wasn’t as if she meant
to hurt him, right?
“Hime, are you alright?”
Syaoran. He stood a ways back from her, close enough to help he if she needed
it but far enough away to respect her desire for space.
Truth be told, she wasn’t alright. Her leg hurt and she wanted Syaoran though
she wasn’t sure which one and she was far too tired to figure it out now.
Sighing in defeat, she turned and rested her elbows on the railing. The soft
gentle honesty and hope and sorrow in his amber eyes broke her heart and she
nearly sobbed.
“I’m just tired,” she whispered.
Syaoran didn’t speak. It was as if he knew her so well, better than she knew
herself, he knew she would continue.
“Do you think you could carry me?” Sakura ventured and tried to ignore the
surge of hope that swelled in his trusting eyes, a swell that was quickly
hidden behind a false smile.
“Of course, hime,” Syaoran said quickly, lest she change her mind. He swiftly
crossed the space between them. Then, he swept one arm around her back to grip
her shoulders and lifted her legs with the other. She wrapped one arm around
his hips and gripped him tightly, not trusting him completely not to drop her,
but she rested her head on his chest as she did when Fai or Kurogane held her.
That was a start and enough to lift his aching heart just a little.
Syaoran could pretend that she cared for him as she had his image.
Sakura closed her eyes as he walked and just felt him. His arms were so warm
around her and he held her with a level of tenderness she had never felt with
Kurogane or even Fai. His heartbeat was steady and even, warm and calm, but
fluttered every so often like a broken bird. She felt as if he would die for
her, let her kill him if that was what she wanted. Tears leaked from her eyes
so she turned her face into his chest to hide them.
There. The broken bird was lodged in his chest again, fluttering, falling,
suffering, not dying. Never dying…
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, but if he heard her, he gave no sound.
The office for Sae’s Onsen was warm and inviting with a fire roaring in the
hearth and animal pelts on the dark hardwood walls. The woman behind the desk
was cheerful
and smiled at them knowingly. Syaoran was startled to find that it was a
natural hot spring as she handed him a stack of white towels. Syaoran set
Sakura back on her feet and guided her gently into the steamy springs.
“Umm, hime,” he ventured and passed her two of the three fluffy towels. “Do you
want me to wait here or something?”
Sakura looked him over and Fai was right. Syaoran was bloodied and battered,
beaten terribly. His leg was soaked through with blood, burns and cuts ran
along him arms, deeps slashed lacerated his stomach, and a long scratch spanned
the curve of his jaw. She had put him through Hell and he had never said a
word.
“It’s alright,” she said. “Besides, even if you stay out here, there are most
likely other men in there.” She slipped behind one of the folding paper screens
to take off her clothes. “I’ll meet you in the spring.”
Syaoran hesitated and whispered, “Okay…” He stripped down and carefully
unwrapped his leg. The stitches were holding up well. He folded his clothes,
wrapped a towel around his waist, and slowly made his way to the onsen.
At first glance, the spring appeared deserted, but then he made out two
silhouettes. There was a girl, maybe Sakura’s age, with short blue-black hair
and rose-pink eyes wrapped in a towel at the edge and a little blonde girl,
maybe six or seven, deeper in the water. He was going to give them some space
when the older of the pair screamed. Whirling around, he realized the little
girl had floundered into deep water and was drowning. Without hesitation,
Syaoran dove in. It took a moment to find her beneath the surface, but then he
felt hair. Twisting his fingers through the locks, he hauled the child to the
surface and into the waiting arms of the other girl.
After hauling out the sputtering child and checking on her, the older girl
dragged Syaoran from the water. She showered his pale face in kisses. “Thank
you, thank you, thank you so much!!” She sobbed and tried to place a kiss on
his mouth, but he pushed her back to arms length.
“It was nothing really,” he insisted and his cheek tinged pink with her praise.
“You saved her life! Oh, thank you! I’m Eve and if you ever need anything
please don’t hesitate to ask! I work at the inn. You can find me there. Thank
you so much!” The older girl said and placed one more kiss on his cheek.
Then, she was gone and Syaoran was alone. Feeling a little scrambled, he looked
around for Sakura and glimpsed her at the edge of the spring. Pressing his palm
tight over the wound in his thigh, he hurried over to the princess, but she
spoke before he could say anything.
“That was a good thing you did back there: saving the little girl,” Sakura
murmured.
Syaoran hesitated, choking on the words that wanted to come out, before finally
managing a whisper. “I… I’m not a bad person,” he said softly. “I could never
allow someone to be hurt in front of me if I had the power to help them.” He
paused to draw in a shuddering breath. “I know you don’t trust me, but as long
as I’m alive, I’ll protect you no matter what the cost.”
Sakura turned to look at him and he flinched, but there was nothing in her jade
eyes except sorrow. She studied him. His chest was narrow, the sinuous curve of
ribs visible beneath pale translucent skin, but the muscles were chiseled and
defined. He was pale and unmarked as the finest porcelain from years of being
Fei-Wang’s prisoner and that was the only difference that Sakura could find
between the two Syaorans. She allowed her gaze to wander down over his thin
empty stomach, over the gashes there, past his sharp slender hips and low-slung
wet towel that clung to his thighs and long legs, and finally to his feet.
She realized he was trembling.
Syaoran felt his heart turn to cold lead in his chest because hate and disgust,
spite, had returned to her beautiful eyes.
“Would you die for me?” Sakura snarled and struggled to stand. “Would you die
for me?”
“Yes.”
She advanced on him until there were maybe three steps between them. “Would you
kill for me?”
“Yes.”
Step. Two steps between them. “Would you suffer for me?”
“Yes.”
One step between them. “Would you let me hurt you?”
“Yes.” Though she already was.
She stopped in front of him, raised her hands, and put them around his throat.
“Would you let me kill you? Rend the life from you?”
He closed his eyes and leaned his head back so she could access his throat
easier. “Yes.”
The fire left her and tears welled up in her eyes. She let her hands fall from
his throat to rest on his shoulders and leaned her forehead on his naked chest.
“Why?” she whispered.
Syaoran wrapped his arms around her when she started to sob. Her leg trembled
and he supported her waist to take the weight off it. “Because,” he whispered,
“until the day I die, my life belongs to you.”
Sakura broke down and cried. Syaoran soothed his hands up and down her back,
nervous at the migrating state of her towel, but even more terrified to push
her away. He sensed that she needed to be able to trust him again, to recognize
that the same heart beat in him and the image, more than he needed her
acceptance.
“It’s alright, hime,” Syaoran whispered into her hair. “No matter what you do
to me, I will always be here for you.”
She sobbed harder. “I wish… I wish that, just once… you would be selfish.”
He tightened his arms around her. “I could do that, but first, let’s get you
into the water,” he murmured.
Sakura pushed back from him slightly and wiped her tears away with the back of
her hand. “Don’t look, okay? I’ll let you know when I’m in the water.”
“Of course, hime,” he said and turned away.
Sakura glanced to make sure he wasn’t peeking only once before sitting down and
unbuckling her brace. Then, she let both towels drop and scooted into the
water. “Okay…” she called. She heard his towel drop with a wet splat and saw a
flash of pale skin as he slipped into the water. He stayed a decent distance
from her and looked straight ahead. “Umm,” she ventured.
“Yes hime?”
“Do you think… that maybe I could call you… Syaoran-kun? I heard Moko-chan call
you… Syaoran but I was so cruel to you… so maybe you don’t want me to…”
He caught her gaze. “I’d like that. I’d like that very much,” he said and
smiled. This time, it was real.
Suddenly, Sakura felt like a horrible person for dragging such a tender
beautiful heart through the mud on her rollercoaster of bitter cruel emotions.
She wondered if the broken bird in his chest could fly now or if it would never
take flight again.
The steam and warmth soaked into her skin and massaged her tense muscles. When
she chanced a glance at Syaoran, she saw that his eyes were closed and there
was an expression of pure bliss on his handsome face. He almost looked as if he
was sleeping, so still with his cheek resting on his knees and his arms around
his long legs. Sakura smiled faintly, pulled her injured leg up, and wrapped
her arms around it. She was just slipping off to sleep when the ground rumbled
and shook.
Syaoran’s eyes shot open with a snap and he sat up quickly. The ground was
trembling and he sensed a vicious presence approaching from behind, but it
wasn’t in the springs yet.
“Sakura-hime?” he whispered.
She jolted. “Yes?”
He didn’t get a chance to speak or explain what he felt because at that moment
a massive hulking beast of a man lumbered into the steamy enclosure. He was
huge, powerfully muscled, and his hands were big enough to crush Syaoran’s body
and bones without much thought. Worse yet, he spotted Sakura and grinned
nastily.
Syaoran’s blood ran ice-cold in his veins and Sakura glanced at his
desperately. He grabbed his towel and wrapped it around his waist without
getting out of the water. It would stick, cold and wet, to his body but it was
important that he be able to fight if the need arose. He quickly got out of the
water, brushed around the man, and stooped to pick up Sakura’s towels.
“Hime, let’s go,” he said and tried to convey his intentions with his eyes. He
used the towel as a screen between Sakura and the man, but if she stepped out
then Syaoran would see her. Come on, hime. It’s either he sees you naked or I
do, he thought and glanced at the man.
The man was watching Sakura intently with a measured predatory gaze. He licked
his lips.
The back of Syaoran’s neck and bathed in cold sweat. “Hime,” he insisted
desperately.
Sakura tucked her chin and jockeyed herself quickly out of the water. Pink
stained her cheeks as Syaoran’s warm hands wrapped the towel around her body.
She tucked it under her arms and hooked it on itself to keep it there. Syaoran
handed her the second towel to hide a bit of her legs. If seeing her naked
affected him in anyway, he gave no outward indication. He offered her his hand
and she had barely touched his palm when the man made his move.
A massive fist came out of nowhere. Syaoran had no time to react before it
smashed into his face. He sailed across the room and hit the wall with a brutal
crack. Then, he dropped limply to the floor on hands and knees. His chest shook
with hacking coughs and Sakura saw blood.
“That kid’s to wet behind the ears for a beauty like you. Come with me and I’ll
show you a good time.” He eyed the exposed tops of her breasts with a sinister
smirk and reached for her. “A real good time.”
Terror gripped her and she tried to step back, but her injured leg wouldn’t
cooperate with the rest of her. “Get up,” she whispered. “Please, get up. Help
me.”
“Who? Him?” The man glanced at Syaoran who was still hacking up blood.
“Sweetie, I’m amazed the kid’s still breathing. He probably broke something.”
He caught Sakura’s shoulder and ripped away the towels she had been clutching
to her body.
Sakura tried to fight him off, but he had knocked Syaoran down like a house of
cards and Sakura was no match for him. She went down in a heap, slamming into
the cold floor with her naked body tearing on the stones. He grabbed her by her
ankle and dragged her back while her fingers scrabbled at the floor.
He was chuckling and muttering. “What a lovely little cunt. Just wait until my
brothers see you. I bet we stuff all your holes with our fat cocks and you’ll
love it. You can scream for me when I cum in your tight little ass. Maybe Raul
will fuck your pussy at the same time.” He moaned and his hot hands crept up
her thighs. “I can smell your pussy. It smells used.”
She screamed.
Suddenly, his sweaty hold on her ankle was gone and soft warm hands lifted her
up. Bare skin pressed against her chest and the hands lifted her legs over
narrow hips. For a moment, all she saw was chocolate hair and a bloody
shoulder. Fear gripped her in icy fingers, choking her. Then, she tightened her
arms around the warm body from behind.
It was Syaoran.
She nearly sobbed with relief.
Then, she realized something was wrong. Syaoran was staggering every few steps,
coming dangerously close to falling. Black crowded out his vision, but there
was too much blood in his eyes to see clearly anyway. He had to find Kurogane,
had to find Fai, had to keep the princess safe. He darted down a random street,
relying completely on senses the image had learned from Kurogane. Sakura’s arms
clenched tight around him and he was suddenly aware of her bare skin pressed up
against his back, but it didn’t matter. He could sense Kurogane and Fai just
around the corner and barreled toward them.
“Syaoran-kun?!” Fai shouted, alarmed.
Syaoran felt a rush of warm air, presumably Fai putting a cloak around
Syaoran’s naked body, and she was lifted away from him. Duty complete, he fell,
first on his knees and then face down on the street. Darkness took him
greedily.
Kurogane stooped down and scooped Syaoran’s body up. Fai was holding naked
Sakura in his coat. She was absolutely terrified. Mokona poked its terrified
little head out of the collar of Kurogane’s shirt, but remained quiet as the
people of this world did not have magic creatures. They all exchanged glances.
“Let’s get to a doctor,” Kurogane said. “The kid’s bleeding a lot. Looks like a
head wound.”
Fai nodded.
…
It took Fai and Mokona half an hour to get Sakura dried off and dressed while
Kurogane went ahead with Syaoran to the doctor’s. It was freezing cold outside
and Sakura wouldn’t stop shivering so Fai wrapped her in his coat from Seresu
and put Mokona in her arms. Then, he carried her to the doctor’s office. Fai
didn’t knock before entering the room Syaoran had been laid out in. The kid was
pale and sickly looking, lying on the sheets like a beautifully made-up corpse.
“Well, Kuro-tan, what’s the prognosis?” Fai asked and tried to set Sakura in
the chair at Syaoran’s bedside, but she tightened her grip on him until putting
her down became impossible. With a sigh, he continued to hold her.
“He’s got a concussion. The doctor says it’s so severe that it’s a wonder he’s
even still alive. He doesn’t think the kid will ever wake up,” Kurogane said,
but he looked at Fai with something glowing in the back of his crimson eyes.
Fai sensed that something was different. “Get the princess to tell you what
happened. We need to be ready for anything.”
Fai nodded.
“Let’s move the kid to the inn. He should be comfortable for however long he’s
alive,” Kurogane said and lifted Syaoran up with surprising tenderness.
“Syaoran…” Mokona whispered and wriggled out of Sakura’s smothering hold.
“Syaoran… he can’t die!”
Fai pet the little creature’s head gently and tucked Mokona down in Sakura’s
arms again. “We’ll see how it goes, Mokona. We’ll see how he is. Syaoran-kun is
strong. He might pull through,” the magician murmured.
Sakura gripped the front of Fai’s jacket and her shoulders trembled with sobs
that she didn’t let free. Fai rubbed his hands up and down her arms soothingly
as they walked. Mokona snuggled up against Sakura and whimpered. Kurogane
trotted ahead of them, holding Syaoran gently and carefully.
The inn was small and warm. It smelled of wood smoke, sausage, and beer, but it
wasn’t an unpleasant combination. They took two rooms, agreeing that Sakura
could stay with Syaoran.
“I think he’d like to spend his last days with you, even unconscious,” Fai
murmured to Sakura and Kurogane laid the boy down on the bed. They were
preparing for his death. “Sakura-chan?” Fai asked when they were finally alone
at Syaoran’s side. “What happened?”
Sakura appeared in a state of shock. She sat in the chair at Syaoran’s bedside
staring straight ahead, unblinking. She started violently when Fai touched her
shoulder. “Fai-san?”
“Sakura-chan, what happened to Syaoran-kun?”
“Oh,” she gazed at her hands where they were folded in her lap. “He was
protecting me… from this big man who wanted to… rape me. The man hit him and
he… smashed into the wall. There was so much blood… on his shoulder and his
face and…”
Fai placed a steady hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay, Sakura-cha, I understand.
Why don’t you stay here while Kuro-poo and I go to Sae’s Onsen and find your
brace?”
She nodded.
Once Fai and Mokona left the room, shutting the door quietly behind him, Sakura
broke down. She buried her face in her hands and sobbed. Night would find her
sound asleep in the chair at Syaoran’s side.
…
“Kuro-sama,” Fai murmured. “Is Syaoran-kun really going to die? I mean, this is
his first chance to live.”
“No.”
“No, what?”
“The kid will be fine. Doc says to give him a day or two to wake up and another
to come back to his senses. He’s got a minor concussion, but he passed out
because of malnutrition and exhaustion,” Kurogane mumbled. “I just thought the
princess could use a wakeup call to how much the kid means to her, how much he
suffers for her.”
“And you didn’t tell me about it?” Fai whined and poked at Kurogane.
“No.”
“Why not?” Mokona chirped.
“Because you two can’t keep a secret!”
With that crisis averted, Fai was able to focus on teasing Kurogane as they
strolled to Sae’s Onsen to search for Sakura’s brace and the kids’ clothes.
Mokona wriggled cheerfully down the front of Fai’s shirt. No one mentioned that
Syaoran would be alright because no one wanted to think about what life would
be like without him.
…
Syaoran woke up around midnight with a splitting headache similar to how he
felt when his other self had a hangover. He was also freezing, shivering,
teeth-chattering, almost blue. He worked up some saliva and swallowed, but his
throat felt thick and weak. “Fai-san?” he croaked. “Kurogane-san? Mokona?
Sakura-hime?” Much to his surprise, it was Sakura who responded.
The princess stirred and mumbled in the chair at his bedside. Fai had covered
her in his thick coat and she wrenched it around her body tightly, shuddering.
Finally, jade-green eyes cracked open and fell on him, distant though she
focused intently once she saw him.
“H-hime, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you! I’m so sorry,” Syaoran
stuttered.
But Sakura’s eyes didn’t fill with disgust, instead a timid smile pulled at her
lips. “You… you woke up,” she whispered. “You’re alive.” She staggered from the
chair, letting Fai’s coat pool on the floor, and leaned heavily on the bed.
“You’re alright…”
Sakura put her fingertips on his face and touched him and if she was memorizing
his features. She ghosted touches over his closed eyes, lips, cheeks, nose, and
down his flashing throat before fleeting back up. She cupped his face gently,
stroked her thumbs against the curve of his jaw. Syaoran closed his eyes in
bliss, tilting his head further into his hands.
He must have died because she would never touch his like this. She feared to
touch him, as if his skin would make her forget all the memories she had with
the image. She would never be so happy that he was alive and unharmed. But, if
this was a clever trick or he was in Heaven…
“H-hime,” Syaoran whispered.
She started violently and snatched her hands back. Then, the disgust and fear
was back in her eyes. She brushed her hands on her skirt as if ridding herself
of some kind of filth and pulled Fai’s coat up in front of her like a shield.
“You’re awake,” she said flatly.
Yeah, Heaven wouldn’t hurt this much…
Syaoran leaned heavily back into the pillows, wishing the bed would just
swallow him. “Yes, I am. Were you hoping I wouldn’t be?” Unspoken: because I’ll
die for you if that’s your wish.
Sakura frowned at the floor, ashamed. “No…”
His chest grew tight. No, I was hoping you’d never wake up or no, I wanted you
to wake up? He prayed for the latter and wet his lips to speak, but she cut him
off.
“Forgive me,” she hesitated and her lips formed his name, but no sound came
out. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
Syaoran twisted the thin blanket in his hands. His fingers were bluish at the
tips and he tucked them into the curve of his inner thighs to warm them. He
shivered and clenched his teeth to keep them from chattering, to hide his pain
from Sakura. “H-hime?”
She glanced up at him and concern marred her face when a shiver he couldn’t
contain wracked his body. “Are you cold?” she whispered.
“Just a little…”
Sakura staggered to her feet. “I’ll go get Fai-san and… tell him you’re
alright…” She stumbled and started to fall.
Syaoran lunged from the bed, ignoring the way his head spun, and caught her
arm, but he wasn’t strong enough even to pull her slight body to him. He fell
from the bed and managed to get her on top of him so he could take the brunt of
their fall. His breath rattled from his lungs almost painfully. He gripped her
wrists and helped her sit up, resting her back against his bent knees.
“You’re so cold,” she whispered and laid his fingers against the warmth of her
throat.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“I’ll get Fai-san,” Sakura murmured. Then, more to herself than to him, she
said quietly, “I won’t be back.”
His stomach filled with ice, clenched, and did an unpleasant little flip.
Without thinking, he caught her arm as she turned away and held on until she
turned to face him. “Please,” he begged, never above pleading on his knees, not
for her. He would die if she asked him. He would leave, it would kill him, but
he would if that’s what she wanted.
Her lips soundlessly formed his name and she moved to take his hands away from
her warmth.
He let her, but begged with is glow-in-the-dark amber eyes. “Please… stay with
me…” he pleaded.
She looked about to speak.
“Please, this is me being selfish… please…”
Her cheeks tinged pink and a stone formed in her throat. How could she deny him
this… this one thing…? She let out a shuddering breath and nodded slowly.
Tears welled like crystals on Syaoran’s long lashes and he closed his eyes
against their onslaught. “The-thank you, Sakura-hime,” he whispered.
She staggered off of him and managed to get to her feet by leaning hard on the
chair at Syaoran’s bedside. Syaoran, trembling like a leaf, heaved himself onto
hands and knees. Then, he gripped the edge of the mattress and scrambled back
into his bed. There, he laid panting and shuddering like he would break.
Hesitating for a moment, Sakura drew the blankets up over Syaoran and then
covered him in Fai’s thick coat. She sat back in the chair at his side,
cradling her body in her hands.
She shivered.
“Hime,” Syaoran whispered and fetch his hand from beneath the covers. He lifted
the edge of the blankets for her, offering her the heat of his bed, of his
body.
Sakura shivered again and looked from his pale face to the crackling fire and
back. Then, she stood up, hesitated, and sat down again.
“Please, hime,” Syaoran whispered. “You’re cold. I won’t do anything to you. I
just… want you to be warm.”
Sakura stood up, unbuckled her brace, and slipped beneath the covers with him.
Syaoran’s body was warm and firm and shuddering slightly. Sakura fidgeted
against him, unsure of what to do now. Syaoran rolled onto his side and scooted
over to make room for her, but the bed was narrow and there still wasn’t much
room. Sakura might tumble right off the edge of the bed if either one of them
moved to suddenly. Timidly, Syaoran put his arm over Sakura’s waist and pulled
her closer to him. She laid her palm on his chest, feeling his fluttering
birdlike heartbeat.
“Syaoran-kun?” Sakura whispered.
“Yes, hime?”
She tilted her chin, looking up into his face. His eyes were open, staring
blankly at the ceiling, and his teeth were digging into his lower lip.
“Are you… hurting?”
He shook his head and his mouth drew into a thin pained line when he spoke.
“No, I’m alright, but…”
Sakura wet her lips and waited for him to speak, but he didn’t so she
whispered, “Syaoran-kun?”
“It’s just,” he whispered, “I wish… I, umm…” He shook his head and then said
plainly, “You’re hand is on the wound on my stomach. It hurts.”
“Oh!” She quickly snatched her hand from the flat plain of his stomach,
scooting it lower without thinking about her actions.
“H-hime…” Syaoran croaked.
Again, she looked up into his face. Their eyes met, amber-gold and jade-green,
and held for the longest moment. Sakura could feel Syaoran’s breath on her
lips, teasing her skin and tickling her face with stirred caramel-colored
tendrils of hair.
“Syao…ran-kun…” she whispered.
His fingers pressed against the column of her spine, holding her close against
his chest. She purred low in her throat and stretched her neck. Syaoran’s nose
touched her cheek and she felt the first brush of his lips against hers. Then,
he exploded backwards from her, nearly toppling over the edge of the bed.
“Ah,” Sakura murmured and tangled her fingers in his shirt. “Syao…”
“Sakura-hime, we can’t… I’m not… but… I… you…”
She gazed at him, jade eyes searching, empty of spite and disgust. There was a
light of love and hope in her green orbs. Maybe…
“Sakura-hime, I’m not… him… I’m only me,” he confessed.
Sakura’s fingers ran along his shoulder, across his throat, and up the curve of
his jaw. “I know,” she whispered. “Syaoran-kun… Kurogane-san said you were
going to die.”
“Die?” he whispered.
She nodded. “He said you’d never wake up and I was just… so afraid I’d never
see you open your eyes again… I realized that you are a very important person
to me and I realized…” She wet her lips. “The Syaoran-kun I knew was made from
you.”
Syaoran turned away. “I’m not him and he’s not me, either.”
“I know,” Sakura whispered, “but… I do,” she hesitated, “love you…”
Syaoran’s breath got lost on the way to his lungs. “You… what…?”
Tears welled up in Sakura’s eyes. “I’m sorry… you don’t want…”
He cupped her face in his hands. “Please, Sakura-hime, don’t torment me with
this.”
“Torment you?”
“Please, if you’re saying that you love me, you can’t… you can’t take that away
from me. You can’t take it back,” he whispered.
Sakura’s eyes slid closed and she nuzzled against his cupped palm. “Syaoran-
kun,” she whispered, but he didn’t allow her to speak.
His lips brushed hers in the faintest butterfly’s touch and then pressed
against hers harder when she began to respond. Hesitantly, she licked his lower
lip in a silent plea for entrance to her sweet mouth. Syaoran immediately
opened himself to her. She was shy, but he was shier. She entered his mouth
first, gently touching his tongue with hers and encouraging him to join the
beautiful first kiss. After a moment, he responded to her eagerly.
Sakura threaded her fingers through his chocolate locks and he hugged her
against him tightly. She put her hands beneath his shirt, touching his warm
smooth skin. He hissed in pain when her fingers probed the wound on his stomach
and she immediately lowered her hands again. Something hard and hot was
pressing against her thigh and she gently rubbed her leg against it.
Syaoran let out a faint moan and tongue eagerly pressed into her mouth, dancing
with hers. Sakura’s fingers lingered at the waistband of his jeans and boxers
before she timidly cupped the hardness between his legs. He broke their deep
kiss and put his hot mouth to the pulse beating on the side of her neck. He
suckled her flesh, nipping gingerly at the tender moist skin. Sakura made a
small sound in her throat, almost a moan.
Syaoran’s fingers gently touched her chest, timidly cupping the small swell of
her breasts through her shirt. She arched her back, pressing against his hands.
He found the hardened nubs of her nipples and rolled them gently between his
fingers. The spike of sudden pleasure had her grip tightening on the length of
his hardness. He groaned and thrust his hips gently at her hand. Then, he found
the hem of her shirt and pulled it up over her stomach, baring her crème skin.
Her cheeks reddened and she whispered, “Wait. Stop.”
Syaoran instantly retracted his hands, suddenly nervous about the grip she had
on his length. “Hime, what’s wrong?”
“Please, call me Sakura, Syaoran,” she whispered and then squeezed his flesh
gently in her hand. “I just…” she hesitated. “Am I pretty?”
His amber eyes softened. “Yes, Sakura, you’re beautiful,” he confessed.
Then, she released him, sat up, and pulled her shirt over her head. For a
moment, she sat before him with her chest naked and thin and heaving. He
nipples were standing out in dark peaks against her creamy skin, raised with
arousal and cold. She wet her lips nervously as Syaoran raised himself slowly
on his elbows until his face was level with hers. Then, he kissed her again,
but only for a moment.
His hands cupped her breasts, kneading and massaging them and alternately
rolling her pert nipples between his long fingers. Then, his mouth burned a
trail down her throat. Confused, it was on the tip of Sakura’s tongue to ask
what he was doing when his teeth nipped at her nipple. She moaned and arched
against his mouth, threading her fingers through his hair and pressing him
closer to her body. She moaned and Syaoran moved to her other breast, suckling
and nipping her heated flesh.
Sakura’s hands returned boldly to his hard member, gripping the swell of its
pressure through his jeans. While Syaoran’s mouth and one hand pleasured her
breasts, his other traced a path from the valley of her cleavage down to dip
into her navel and then curl through the band of her skirt and panties. She
rocked her hips, unsure of what he was planning but giving him permission to
continue. Syaoran slipped his hand into her panties and cupped the wet heat of
her snatch. He pressed his thumb over her clit and rubbed gently and her hips
bucked with bliss. Then, he pushed one finger into her tight moist slit.
She moaned and pressed down hard on his hand, pushing him deeper into her, as
deep as he could go. She was squeezing his shaft almost painfully hard, but he
ignored it in favor of peeling her panties and skirt down her hips. Sakura
suddenly released him and pulled his shirt up. He was forced to let go of her
as she hauled the shirt over his head. Then, she pressed her naked chest
against his and kissed him powerfully. Her fingers released the button and
zipper of his jeans and reached in, cupping the hard slippery length of his
arousal.
“Sakura, wait, you don’t have to…” Syaoran said through their kiss.
She hushed him and wrapped her hand tightly around him. She pushed him back
against the pillows and suckled at his throat. “No, Syaoran, this is for you. I
just want to make you feel good,” she whispered.
“But–”
She hushed him again and trailed kisses down his chest. She wet her lips and
Syaoran’s entire body tensed as her mouth closed over the mushroomed head of
his member. He groaned and tried not to push up into her sweet mouth. She
sucked and worked her mouth up and down his shaft. She licked at the weeping
tip, tasting the salty pre-cum. Syaoran was once against cupping her breasts,
fondling her nipples, and then going lower. He cupped the swell of her ass and
slipped his finger into her slit again.
She moaned and the sound went through his length, vibrating into his heart.
Gently he pulled her away from him and raised her mouth to his. They kissed and
then he felt Sakura’s hot sweet cavern. The head of his cock probed through her
folds, guided by her small hand.
“Wait, Sakura,” he whispered.
“No,” she said. “I want you, please…”
He wet his lips. “I don’t want this to be something you regret.”
“It won’t.”
She kissed him, putting her tongue into his mouth, and then easing herself down
to be impaled on his long hard shaft. It hurt as his cock pushed her soft
muscles aside to make room and then broke through her virgin barrier. Tears
pricked at her eyes and Syaoran kissed her tears away.
“Are you okay?”
She nodded and sniffled and flexed her hips, tightening her pelvic muscles
around his shaft. He groaned and had to resist thrusting into her sweet cavern.
“Sakura,” he murmured and gripped her hips. “You feel so good.”
She tilted her head back in bliss and raised herself on her knees before
plunging down on his cock again. She moaned and whispered, “Syaoran, please,
take me.”
He nodded and kissed her. Then, they separated and he gripped her hips tightly.
He lifted her and thrust his hips, plunging deep into her over and over again.
She moaned, meeting him thrust for thrust. Then, his fingers touched her clit,
offering extra stimulation, and her muscles clenched tightly around him. He
almost came then and there.
He thrust harder, frantically, pounding into her.
“Ah, Syao,” she moaned. “I’m… ah!”
Then, her sheath clenched down around him, squeezing the pleasure from his
body. He tried to pull out before he came, but she cupped his face and kissed
him and pressed down on his shaft. She prevented his from withdrawing and his
hot seed filled her, coating her womb.
Then, they collapsed against the pillows propped behind Syaoran. Sakura
breathed hard into his neck and he clutched her body tightly against his heated
chest.
“Sakura, that was…”
“Wonderful,” she finished.
Syaoran closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of her sweat and skin.
“I’m tired,” she whispered.
“Yes,” Syaoran murmured and started to pull out of her but she stopped him.
“No,” she whispered. “Please, sleep like this. Stay inside me. Sleep inside
me.”
“But–”
“Please…”
How could he deny his princess?
Syaoran pushed deeper inside of her, cradled her against his naked chest, and
pulled the covers up tightly around them both. Sakura lay against his chest,
listening to his
heartbeat and feeling his shaft softening inside her. He kissed her temple
tenderly and breathed against her throat, nipping at her pulse. She giggled and
snuggled against him.
“Syaoran?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you… for saving me and… for this,” she whispered.
He nuzzled into her soft hair. “You’re welcome, Sakura, and… thank you for
everything.”
…
In their own room, Fai and Kurogane could hear their traveling companions
making love. (Thankfully, Mokona was already asleep.) They exchanged a smile
and went to bed, each silently thanking the Dimensional Witch. They just didn’t
know then that it was not her doing.
Sakura and Syaoran’s love was remarkable and deep and survived even the effects
of Acid Tokyo.
Sadly, their love had many more tests lying in wait for them.
X X X
I wasn’t entirely happy with this ending, but hey! It’s just a pointless lemon!
Questions, comments, concerns?
***** Prom Night *****
Lemons and limes, mainly lemons.
Poor Syaoran is in for it… or is he really going to be poor Syaoran in this
situation. He might enjoy it. ;-) Wink!
Summary: It’s prom night.
X X X
The night stretched on and on. The stars looked as if they had dropped into the
water and shards of the moon bounced on the ocean’s dark waves. Fish swam in
the depths, glowing with the bright silver moonlight. A few night birds swooped
low over the sea, catching a few vulnerable fish.
The rented ship was reflected on the water. Candied lights covered the
railings, the rigging, and the mast, glowing like fairies. Soft music danced
over the water, echoing and reverberating. Tables had been set up with
beautiful white tablecloths and single red roses. The long buffet table had an
ice sculpture and a crystal bowl of punch.
It was a beautiful night for Prom.
Sakura was standing at the balcony, cradling her naked shoulders in her palms.
She had promised to wait there for Syaoran.
Syaoran was late, almost half an hour late by now, but it wasn’t entirely his
fault. He was having some trouble at home. His mother was pregnant and
demanding and quick to anger. His father couldn’t handle her, but, then again,
he handled all of his emotions badly. He raged at Syaoran more than his
hormonal wife did.
Sakura wet her lips, sighed, and smoothed her soft satin dress over her thighs.
A chilly breeze blew off the ocean, whispering through her loose hair and long
skirt. She inhaled deeply the scent of the night and the sea. She wished she
had brought a shawl for her naked shoulders and shivered.
Suddenly, warmth enveloped her from behind and soft lips feathered against the
back of her neck. Syaoran’s arms curled around her slender waist and pulled her
back against the heat of his solid chest. He breathed into her soft caramel
hair and traced the shell of her ear with his tongue. A pleasant shiver raced
down Sakura’s spine and she pressed back against Syaoran.
“I’m sorry I’m so late,” he whispered and suckled gently at the pulse of her
throat.
She shifted her head, angling to give him better access, and reached to cup the
back of his head. She threaded her fingers through his soft chocolate locks and
pulled him closer. He grazed her skin with his teeth, suckling at the knobs of
her spine, lavished her pulse with his tongue, and she moaned in bliss.
Syaoran finally withdrew his mouth from her and she whimpered at the loss of
his attention.
“It’s alright,” Sakura murmured and turned to face her boyfriend. As soon as
her eyes took in his face, she gasped. “Oh, Syaoran…”
There was a huge dark bruise on the side of Syaoran’s face, running from the
lower curve of his jaw up around his right eye. There was no swelling, leading
her to believe that he hadn’t been dealing with his parents but had been
applying first aid to the injury for the past half an hour.
She gently cupped his face, laying her thumb below his eye over the darkness of
his beaten skin. “What happened to your face?”
He put his hand over hers and closed his eyes, ashamed. “Nothing. I blundered
my face into something.”
“Syaoran…” Sakura whispered and gently feathered her lips at the corner of his
bruised jaw. He shuddered.
Syaoran nuzzled into her hair and confessed, “My dad hit me.”
Sakura wrapped her arms tightly around him and tenderly kissed the pulse in his
throat. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “Is that why you were so late?”
He nodded against her shoulder. “I had to put ice on it. I didn’t want to worry
you,” he said.
She smiled, but he couldn’t see it with her face pressed into his chest. “It
didn’t work very well, did it?”
Syaoran chuckled. “No, I don’t suppose it did.”
Then, he took a step back from her and held her at arm’s length. His lips
curved in a beautiful smile and he murmured, “You look beautiful.”
She wound a loose tendril of caramel hair around her finger and smiled
sheepishly. “Am I?”
He held her naked shoulders and nodded.
Sakura was wearing a beautiful strapless gown of palest rose-colored satin.
There was a layer of smooth white silk beneath the pink satin, ruffled slightly
at the bottom where it peeked beneath the rosy satin. It clung to her soft
curves, clutched the swell of her breasts, and lay neatly across her thighs.
There was a plain white ribbon tied at her waist, trailing down one side of her
hip to mid-thigh. She had strappy silver heels on her feet, hoisting her up on
her long beautiful legs. Around her throat was the platinum locket Syaoran had
given her on its long platinum chain so that it was practically tucked between
her breasts. Two platinum combs with roses on them scraped back the front of
her caramel-colored locks. Wisps of loose strands framed her beautiful face. As
always, she wore no makeup, just a touch of gloss on her lustrous candy-pink
lips.
“Thank you,” she whispered and ran her hands down the lapels of his black
tuxedo. “You look incredibly handsome yourself.”
A tinge of pink spread across Syaoran’s cheeks.
He was wearing black slacks and a white dress shirt beneath his black tuxedo
jacket. To match Sakura’s beautiful dress, he was wearing a rose-pink tie. Not
very many men would wear such a color willingly, but Syaoran had been even a
little eager to don it. He would do anything if it would make Sakura happy. A
pink rose boutonniere had been tucked into his pocket.
He smiled as Sakura smoothed his mussed chocolate hair and then traced the
socket of his bruised eye. His glow-in-the-dark amber eyes fluttered closed and
he sighed in bliss at her touch. Then, she tugged him down a little so she
could reach his mouth to kiss him.
His lips were warm and soft against hers. His hands crept up her back, pressing
her closer against his chest, and finally settled in the soft hairs at the base
of her neck. Sakura gripped the front of his shirt gently with one hand and her
free hand wandered to the corner of his jaw, cupping it gently. His tongue
traced her lower lip in a plea for entrance, tasting her candied lip gloss. She
opened her mouth to him immediately and gently drew him into her cavern.
When they finally drew apart for air, foreheads resting together just to be
close, Syaoran murmured, “You taste wonderful.”
Sakura giggled. “I brushed my teeth,” she confessed quietly, “and had some
punch.”
Syaoran kissed her cheek. “You got your own punch? How could you? You broke the
most valued rule of Prom,” he chided.
Sakura raised a brow. “Did I? How?”
“It’s the man’s job to fetch the punch,” Syaoran told her and feathered a light
kiss on her lips. “You’ll have to let me get it for the rest of the night and,
even at that, I still can’t forgive you.”
Sakura giggled against his lips and hugged him. “Alright, alright,” she said.
“I’m sorry.”
Syaoran nuzzled her throat and sucked lightly at her pulse. “Come on, Sakura.
Would you like to dance?”
“Mhmm,” Sakura moaned, unthinking.
When he drew away from her throat, she whimpered at the loss of his hot mouth
on her skin. Then she realized that he had asked her to dance, she smiled and
took his
hand. They slipped through the other fabulously dressed couples and found a
space on the dance floor. The music was tender and breezy, a slow song.
Syaoran drew Sakura into his arms, wrapping his arms around her narrow waist,
and she rested her cheek on his chest, hands cradling his shoulders. She fisted
her hand in the portion of her gown that lay over her thighs, lifting it so she
wouldn’t step on it while she danced. They moved as if they shared one body,
swaying and twirling. The other couples spread out to them room, as if
threatened by the love the two shared.
…
When the song ended and a fast song came on, they vacated the dance floor and
went for some punch (that Syaoran fetched for them as rule dictated). Two hours
passed with them dancing and sipping punch until Tomoyo and her date, Kurogane,
spotted them.
“Sakura-chan,” Tomoyo called cheerfully, dragging Kurogane by his arm.
“Tomoyo-chan, you look wonderful,” Sakura returned. She threaded her fingers
through Syaoran’s and met their friends midway on the ship’s deck.
Tomoyo elbowed Kurogane. “I’m glad someone thinks so,” she growled and glowered
at Kurogane.
Kurogane rolled his crimson eyes. Unlike Syaoran, he had chosen not to match
his date. He was wearing a jet black tuxedo with a crimson blood-colored tie
over his white undershirt. Tomoyo, on the other hand, was wearing a beautiful
purple gown with a tulle skirt and several dark purple ribbons as accents. Her
long black hair had been scraped up into a bun and threaded with small violets
and several long curls framing her face.
Syaoran nodded. “You do look lovely, Tomoyo-chan,” he agreed and Sakura beamed
up at him.
Tomoyo blushed. “Why are you so sweet, Syaoran-kun?”
His cheeks tinged pink and he looked down at Sakura. She squeezed his hand and
smiled broadly.
Suddenly, Tomoyo squinted at him in the candied lights of the ship and asked,
“What happened to your face, Syaoran-kun?”
He lowered his eyes. “Nothing,” he murmured.
“It’s just the light,” Sakura supplied and stepped in front of Syaoran as if to
protect him from Tomoyo’s eyes. She tucked a loose strand of dark hair behind
Tomoyo’s ear. “You look beautiful. Why don’t you make Kurogane-san dance with
you?”
Tomoyo laughed. “Yeah, I suppose I could do that.” Then, she grabbed Kurogane’s
hand and dragged him back onto the dance floor.
…
Sakura took Syaoran’s hand and led him quickly from the upper deck to the lower
one. She poked her head in the girl’s bathroom, found it empty, led Syaoran in,
and closed and locked the door. Then, she cupped his face and investigated the
bruise on his face in the bright fluorescent lights. It was stark purple-grey
against his pale creamy skin. Sakura wet a paper towel with cold water and
pressed it to his face. He hissed in pain.
“Sorry,” she murmured.
He grasped her arm and lowered her hand from his face. “I’m okay,” he told her
and brushed some caramel hair back from her cheeks. “Stop worrying about me and
enjoy the dance, please.”
Sakura lowered her jade-green eyes and clenched her hands in her dress. “I’m
sorry,” she whispered.
Immediately, Syaoran felt horrible for chastising her. She cared about him and
she was worried for the injury his father had caused. He cradled her face and
brushed their noses together in an Eskimo kiss. “No, Sakura, I’m sorry.” He
lifted her face and his heart dropped into his stomach.
There were crystal tears in her jade eyes.
“Oh, God, Sakura. I’m so sor–” Syaoran began, but he never got to finish his
sentence because Sakura suddenly crashed her lips to his.
His back hit the bathroom door with a clunk and he was going to push Sakura off
of him when he felt her fingers unbuttoning the buttons of his jacket. Pushing
open his jacket, she un-tucked his shirt and worked her fingers against the
flat naked plain of his stomach. He moaned and kissed her harder, pushing his
tongue into her mouth. Sakura nibbled the tip of his tongue with her teeth and
reached beneath his shirt to touch his nipples.
He squirmed and shivered. “Sakura, stop, that tickles!”
She smiled against his mouth and tweaked on nipple playfully, rolling it
between her fingers.
He pulled away from her, spun her around, and pinned her against the door. He
suckled her throat, nipping at her thundering pulse. She moaned and managed to
catch the lobe of his ear between her teeth. He cupped her breasts in his warm
hands and felt her nipples pressing out through the thin layers of satin. She
gripped his open jacket with both hands and pulled him tight against her,
leaning her head back to allow him better access to her throat.
Suddenly, he wrapped both arms around her waist and lifted her from the floor.
She immediately wrapped her long legs around his narrow waist and kissed him
hard. He pressed her back against the door and a shiver ran through her body.
She arched against Syaoran and dug her fingers into his back, gripping him
tightly to her. He raised his chin and sucked her lower lip. She moaned and dug
her fingers through his hair.
Holding Sakura against the door and supporting her weight with one hand beneath
her buttocks, Syaoran lifted Sakura’s dress over her thighs and pressed his
cloth-covered hardness against her soft core. She whimpered, moaned, and ground
against him. He nipped her throat and squeezed her butt, kneading the flesh
with both hands. She dug her fingers into his back, massaging his bunching
muscles.
With only her panties and his pants as a barrier between them, Syaoran thrust
against her slit. A sharp spike of pleasure coursed through Sakura’s blood as
Syaoran continued to pump against her. She touched his chin, raised his head,
and kissed him deeply. She probed her tongue into his mouth, battling for
dominance.
Her slit was hot and wet, begging for the long hard shaft of him inside her.
She wanted him so badly it hurt. She moaned and ground against him, pressing
hard.
Syaoran nipped her lower lip, suckling it. He continued kneading her buttocks,
pulling her cheeks apart to allow his shaft to slide through the cleft of her
flesh over her panties. She groaned, moaning in sync with him as he thrust
against her.
She reached between them, going for his fly, but he stopped her. He pinned her
hands above her head, holding them to the door so that the only thing holding
her up were her legs wrapped tightly around his hips.
“Why?” she moaned.
He sucked on her throat, nibbling her flesh, and thrust harder, faster, against
her crotch. He began almost frantic, pounding so hard that Sakura’s back
knocked against the door with each thrust. A coil was winding in her belly,
tightening until she felt as if she were going to explode. Syaoran released her
hands and wrapped his arms around her, crushing her to him. Sakura gasped as he
slid her down his body until his hardness pressed over her sensitive clit. Each
thrust and shift he made sent a spike of pleasure tearing through her.
“Syao…” she panted. “I’m going to…” The coil in her belly burst and a rush of
hot juices flooded her panties. A few drops rolled down her inner thigh.
Syaoran hurriedly set her down on her feet, leaning her against the door in
case her weak legs couldn’t support her. He whirled around, putting his back to
her. He ripped a piece of paper towel and she heard him fumbling at his pants.
God, Sakura thought. Syaoran had just dry fucked her against the bathroom door
on prom night, given her a shattering climax, yet he refused to ask her to do
the same for him. He would jerk off, bring himself his own pleasure.
She took a wobbly step toward him, but he was already zipping up his trousers
and discarding the soiled paper towel.
“I love you,” Sakura whispered and wrapped her arms around him from behind. She
ran her hand over the softening bulge in his crotch and kissed his shoulders.
He practically purred as she squeezed his shoulders. “I love you, too,” he
murmured.
He kissed her, pushing his tongue into her mouth.
Suddenly, Sakura pushed him away and said with a cheeky smile, “Later.”
And Syaoran felt a rush of blood to his groin as she sashayed out of the
bathroom and back to the party.
…
Prom passed quickly. Sakura and Syaoran danced often and drank punch and kissed
and held hands at the rail of the ship. The ocean was beautiful and filled with
displaced stars, stretching on and on forever to the ends of the earth. Fish
swam in the deep darkness of the sea, playing. Two swirled together like yin
and yang.
It was a wonderful night, but it was ending…
At least, the party was…
Sakura and Syaoran still had the rest of the night together.
They bid goodbye to Tomoyo and Kurogane. The girls hugged tightly and then
their dates led them away.
Syaoran did not have a limousine, waiting to take them away at the dock. He
couldn’t afford one, but Sakura did not mind one bit. Syaoran was her perfect
soul mate, her best friend, the love of her life. Nothingness could surround
them and it wouldn’t matter so long as she had him. As the perfect gentleman,
he opened the passenger door for her, still holding her discarded high heels.
She slipped into his clunking rusted-out van, pulling her dress after her. He
laid her shoes at her feet.
Then, he kissed her cheek and slid behind the wheel. His engine sputtered to
life, clunking and clattering, and they pulled away from the yacht and the
party.
“What would you like to do now, Sakura?” Syaoran asked, breaking their
comfortable silence.
She reached across the consul and touched his thigh. “My parents are out of
town tonight,” she whispered.
“Your parents left on Prom night?” Syaoran asked incredulously.
“Something came up that they could not avoid. A business meeting,” she
explained. “Besides, they know we are destined for each other.”
He smiled, took her hand in his, and kissed the tip of each of her fingers.
“Then, home it is,” he murmured.
Sakura lived in a beautiful white colonial with deep green shutters. Her
mother’s spectacular flower garden surrounded the wrap-around porch, burgeoning
with irises and
star gazer lilies and hydrangeas of every color. Syaoran parked in her empty
garage and held her hand as they walked up the front steps. Sakura removed the
spare key from on top of the light and unlocked the door. The inside of her
house was dark and cool and full of soft golden light.
Sakura dropped her high heels just inside the doorway and Syaoran toed off his
dress shoes.
Then, she turned to look at him over her shoulder and gave him a fantastic sexy
smile. “You still haven’t punished me for getting my own punch,” she purred and
arched her back sensuously.
Syaoran grinned at her. “That’s because I had something already planned for you
tonight.”
Sakura arched a brow. “You just learned that my parents were out of town. How
could you have planned anything…” she ran her hand down his chest, lingering
over the hardness she adored. “…sexual for me?”
“I put a mattress in the back of the van,” Syaoran purred and pushed against
her hand. “Sakura, stop teasing me or I’m going to take you right here in the
foyer.”
She grinned and pressed herself against him. “Who said you couldn’t?” she
murmured and kissed him.
Syaoran groaned and cupped her ass tightly with both hands. Speaking through
her lips, he murmured, “If you keep this up… I’m going to…”
“Going to what?” Sakura purred and pushed her tongue into his mouth.
This was a new side of Sakura he had never seen before. She was playing the
seductress, teasing him and speaking not-quite-dirty. Normally, Sakura was
hesitant to lead him to bed, easily initiating kisses but never touches.
Syaoran couldn’t say he didn’t like this new vulgar side of her. It excited
him. His trousers were already tight and uncomfortable, tenting to accommodate
his hardness.
Suddenly, Sakura broke away. She trailed down his body until she was kneeling
in front of him with her face at his crotch. Lewdly, she nuzzled against his
hardness with her cheek and Syaoran tilted his head back in pleasure. Her
fingers slid down his zipper and reached through his boxers to free his length.
Cupping it in her hands, she looked up and him quickly, meeting his eyes, and
then wrapped her mouth around him. He was salty and vaguely unpleasant, but he
was Syaoran and she loved him. She reminded herself of the dry fucking they had
done back on the liner and wanted to make him feel as good as she had felt.
Eagerly, she cupped his balls, massaging them with exaggerated tenderness so
she wouldn’t hurt him as she pumped her mouth up and down his shaft. Syaoran
gripped the back of her head, guiding her at a steady rhythm but being
undeniably gentle, never once choking her.
“Sakura, stop, I’m going to…” he groaned, fingers threading through her hair.
She took a deep breath and then took him as deeply as she could, allowing his
length down the back of her throat. The sensation threw Syaoran over the edge
and Sakura felt a hot jet go down the back of her throat and directly into her
stomach, but she didn’t taste the dreaded saltiness. Then, she carefully eased
him back out of her throat, licking at him as she went.
“Syaoran,” she whispered.
He gripped her shoulders and pulled her to her feet. Crashing his lips to hers
and pressing his hands against the small of her back, they walked backwards,
kissing fiercely, until Sakura’s knees hit the sofa and she was knocked
backwards. Immediately, Syaoran was kneeling between her parted legs, kissing
her still.
“Syaoran…” she moaned. “I want you…”
She felt him smile against her mouth and then his warm hand ghosted down her
thighs. He pulled her dress up to her waist and she leaned forward, pressing
hard against his mouth, to allow him to peel it over her head. The dress was
gorgeous and she was wearing nothing but her panties beneath it. Eagerly, she
pushed Syaoran’s jacket form his shoulders and began unbuttoning his shirt, but
he pushed her hands away.
Again, he kissed her, slipping his tongue into her mouth while his fingers
stroked her delicate slit through her panties. Her hips bucked, begging for
him, and finally, he slid her panties aside at the crotch and ducked his head
down to be between her legs. She threaded her fingers through his hair,
desperately urging him on. The first hot stroke of his tongue almost sent her
careening over the edge.
Syaoran knew every button to push, every place to stroke, everything she liked
the best. And he wasted no time pushing every button that pleased her.
He caught her sensitive pearl between his teeth, rolling it gently while
lavishing attention with his tongue. She squirmed and writhed under his
assault, moaning in bliss.
“Syaoran, please,” she said desperately. “Inside… inside…”
He put his thumb on her clit, rolling and rubbing it, still stroking her slit
with his fingers, but he didn’t enter her. He didn’t even make a move like her
wanted too.
Sakura watched as he gripped himself with his free hand and began milking his
shaft back to fullness.
“Syaoran, please,” she begged. “Fingers… finger me…”
He continued as if she hadn’t spoken, watching her face contort with
desperation and her hips desperately push at him.
“Please, why won’t you…?”
He smiled and stroked her slit, pinching her clit lightly and rolling it. “This
is for getting your own punch.”
“My punishment…?” She desperately tried to shift her hips and get some scrap of
him inside her. “Please, I’ve learned! I won’t do it again, just… please!
Inside me!”
Syaoran grinned and cupped her breast, putting his lips over the other. He
ignored her pleas for him.
Then, he realized just how badly she wanted him.
Sakura put her foot on his chest and pushed him off her, sending him staggering
back a few feet. Then, she bolted up to the display cabinet and took down a
small blown glass vase that was about at big around as the circle she could
make by putting her thumb and forefinger together. She quickly knelt in the
armchair in front of the case and positioned the vase at her dripping entrance.
Moaning, she began to push it into herself, twisting her hips.
Syaoran watched, mouth hanging open, as she inserted it and then began pumping
it in and out of her snatch. She bent over, lewdly spreading her legs to give
him a better view and he knew she was teasing him.
It was tempting to torment her the same way and he had never been very good as
resisting that temptation.
He came up behind her, reached between her legs, and pinched her clit. She
moaned, trusting the vase as deep as she could. Syaoran took it from her
fingers, pumping deep and hard, while expertly touching her sensitive pearl.
Then, he pulled her panties down to hang around her thighs. For a moment, he
continued pumping the vase in and out of her snatch and trailed his fingers in
the juices running down her thighs.
Then, much to her surprise, Syaoran knelt behind her and drew a long slow lick
through the cleft of her ass. He pressed his tongue as her small puckered hole
and then lathered it with the juices that were thick on his long fingers. He
put a fingertip to her asshole and gently pushed it into her. It felt strange
and wonderful, but painful.
“Syaoran, wait, stop,” she gasped out and he did.
“I’m sorry,” he said immediately. “Does it hurt?”
She nodded, but the sensation was so curious that she wanted to feel more of
it. “Maybe, with lube,” she panted.
“We don’t have to do anything, not if you don’t want to.”
“But,” her cheeks tinged pink, “I do want to try it. And I trust you never to
hurt me.”
Syaoran smiled and kissed her neck. Then, he pulled the vase from her snatch
and slipped himself into her.
Sakura always loved the very first moment he pushed into her. She loved feeling
her womb clench and muscles seize him tightly and Syaoran must have liked it
too because he always groaned and gripped her hips very tightly.
“You feel so good,” he moaned and began to thrust into her at a quick pace.
Sakura slammed her hips back, meeting him trust for thrust. He reached around
her body and touched her clit, rolling it expertly so she was soon squirming
against him in bliss.
She breathed out hard. “Syaoran… please, go faster…”
Eagerly, Syaoran quickened the pace. Then, her muscles slammed down hard on his
girth, squeezing him over the brink with her. His hot seed filled her to the
rim, dripping down her parted legs. Sakura almost collapsed, but Syaoran
gripped her against his chest.
“Feel good?”
She panted, “Of course.”
Gently, Syaoran cradled her against his chest and carried her upstairs to her
bedroom. He laid her on the bed and then fit himself nicely against her from
behind. Reaching between her legs, he began stroking her again, pushing one
finger deep inside to touch the mouth of her womb.
“Do you still want to?”
Sakura reached around to grip him, pulling him tight against her back.
Blushing, she said, “Yes. There’s lube… in the medicine cabinet.”
Syaoran fetched the tube, squeezed some onto his fingers, and gently applied it
to her puckered hole. She shivered and trembled.
“Do you want to stop?” he asked immediately.
“No, that’s just cold.”
Smiling, he kissed her back, lavishing attention down her spine as he pushed
one finger into her anus. Sakura clenched down on him, startled, but he gently
stroked the wall on the inside of her as he had done the very first time they
had sex and she was frightened. Relaxing immediately, Sakura wriggled her ass
to explore the sensation. Syaoran added a second finger and made a gentle
scissoring motion. She moaned low and deep in her chest.
Smiling, he touched her clit with his free hand until she was writhing in
pleasure against him.
Then, he lathered his length with lubricant and positioned at the entrance of
her ass. “Are you feeling ready?”
She nodded and forced herself to relax completely for him. Syaoran was gentle,
pushing into her a single inch at a time and then rocking his hips lightly to
loosen her clamping muscles. In no time at all, he was sheathed deep inside her
and waiting for her to adjust to the final inches of him.
“Are you okay?”
She nodded, but it was more of a moan.
Syaoran applied more lube to her asshole, just in case. The last thing he
wanted to do was hurt her. Then, he began to move.
Like their very first time, he started slow, barely rocking his hips, until she
began to respond to him. Then, he thrust slowly and gently, pulling the length
of himself out so that only the head remained and pushing slowly back inside.
This elicited more moans from Sakura than he knew what to do with. Finally, she
was relaxed enough that he could set a faster pace, pounding into her while his
fingers pleased her slit.
She was moaned, trying to meet each thrust he put into her pussy while meeting
each thrust in her ass. It was more pleasure than she could handle. She came
quickly, panting and gasping her Syaoran’s name. Syaoran took a touch longer,
trusting into her lank form vigorously. Finally, once again, his hot seed
filled her to the brim, spilling out in places.
Panting, Syaoran pulled from her and kissed her lips gently. “Did you like
that?”
“Yes,” she gasped and then smiled at him cheekily. “You know, I lost my second
virginity to you on prom night.”
“That’s not quite cliché,” Syaoran said and laughed quietly. Then, he snuggled
up beside her, naked flesh warm and soft beneath her fingertips. Sakura sighed
deeply, feeling full and warm beside her love. Later that night, when a wet
dream woke her, she had Syaoran there to act upon her urges.
The best night of her life was when she lost her virginity to Syaoran on her
birthday beneath the cascading petals of pink Sakura blossoms. She loved that
memory of the petals falling down around his naked freckled shoulders, raining
on her face where he would kiss them away.
Prom night was easily the second best and most memorable night of her life.
X X X
Questions, comments, concerns?
***** Heart of the WOLF *****
For Otaku the Ookami. (Sorry it took so long.)
Summary: Syaoran is the Prince of the hated, feared, and scorned Wolf-People.
Sakura is a simple girl living alone on the edge of the forest. Sometimes, love
comes from
the strangest of places.
X X X
It was on nights like this—dark and cool with the moon gleaming just over the
top of the black forest and the cottage was empty and lonely—that it was really
tempting to get up and let him in. He was snuffling at the door, scratching
lightly at the welcome mat. Sakura pulled the covers up to her chin and tried
not to think about how lonely it was here in the cottage since her
grandfather’s death. She felt exposed wearing a simple white cotton nightdress
and knowing he was just outside the door, begging to be let in.
But she couldn’t let him in.
Sakura was already scorned by the town for living alone on the edge of the
forest. If they suspected she not only talked to the Wolf-People, but let them
into her house sometimes, they would treat her even worse. Even now, she had
trouble selling her woven baskets, tapestries, and fresh herbs and mushrooms
that she gathered in the forest.
Tonight, he would not be coming inside.
Sakura got up from her bed, throwing back the covers and feeling the chill from
the earthen floor seeping into her bare feet. She put another log on the low
fire in the hearth, took a drink of cool water from the basin on the table,
stood for a moment staring at the door, and tried to resist the urge to let him
in. She crawled back into bed, clutching the covers up to her chest.
Finally, she called out to him, “Go home. I can’t…”
For a moment, he remained outside the door. It grew silent outside, just the
distant hoot of an owl in the black forest, and she heard soft footsteps
sweeping through the rustling leaves and crunchy grass. Then, there was a long
low mournful howl. Sakura’s heart went out to the Wolf-Prince and goose bumps
rose on her flesh from the sound, but she still couldn’t let him in.
…
The next morning dawned bright and cheery. There were some dark clouds on the
horizon, but they looked in a good position to blow over. Sakura wrapped
herself up in her favorite green cloak, put her basket into the crook of her
elbow, and set off into the forest where the Wolf-People lived. Most would have
been afraid, but she knew they wouldn’t hurt her… at least, not without good
reason to. Her grandfather had lived with them for some time and earned their
trust, which he passed on to her with his death along with the scorn her had
earned. But the people of the village needed the herbs she gathered from the
dark woods. That didn’t mean they showed her any more kindness than they had
shown her grandfather, but they did always buy the herbs she brought even if
they wouldn’t buy her baskets or tapestries.
Sakura pulled her hood up over her head and set off through the path she had
woven through the woods. She picked Juniper berries, dug out some Bayberry and
Ginger roots, and a few other herbs which she tucked safely into her basket and
covered with a damp handkerchief. There were some white mushrooms growing in
the dark moist hollow of a dead tree. Grinning, she got on her hands and knees,
ducked her head down, and stretched her arm out to reach them. She just brushed
the mushrooms with the tips of her fingers when she heard the branches snapping
behind her. Thinking it was the Wolf-Prince, her (almost) friend, she didn’t
immediately react and focused on reaching them.
Then, a terrible growl ran its fingers down her spine. Immediately, she tasted
fear. She slowly turned her head and took in the terrible sight of a big black
bear looming up behind her. His beady little eyes were watching her, drilling
through her body. He was drooling, slavering, big teeth creeping out from
beneath ugly black lips. He opened his mouth and roared at her as he got up on
his hind legs, swiping wildly with his big lethal paws.
Sakura lurched out of the way, falling over sideways on her ass, a split second
before the bear’s paws slammed down where her body had just been. A wave of
dirt washed up over the white mushrooms and the bear gave the dead tree a swipe
that turned it into instant sawdust. Sakura didn’t want to know what her body
would look like if he got a swipe at her. She scrambled to her feet and took
off running. She could hear the bear crashing through the forest behind her,
snapping branches and crushing fallen logs left and right.
A bush of brambles caught her cloak and tore her backwards. Letting a shriek of
breath sneak between her clenched teeth, she fell back. The bear was inches
behind her, getting up on his hind legs again and preparing to crush her. Her
cloak was caught firmly, she couldn’t tear the heavy material free of the
brambles. She was trapped and she was going to die. Sakura squeezed her eyes
shut tightly and waited for her end.
It never came.
There was a second sound, a softer but also much for ferocious growl. Then,
there was a milky-white and chocolate blur leaping from the branches of a tall
tree. It landed on the bear and they both went down in a snarling heap—the bear
and the Wolf-Prince. Sakura rolled over and quickly struggled her cloak free of
the brambles, breaking off branches and tearing apart the fabric where she had
to. Her hands were quickly shredded, bleeding something fierce. Finally free,
she stumbled to her feet and took shelter, hiding behind the tree the Wolf-
Prince had leaped down from, and watched them.
The Wolf was smaller, slender and as beautiful as she remembered him in the dim
light of her cabin, but appeared to be winning. He was a little human, after
all, and smarter than the average bear. From somewhere, he pulled a knife that
was as jagged as a fang and stabbed into the bear’s head and shoulders over and
over. The bear threw him off. The Wolf crashed into a tree, landing on all
fours, and watched the bear with flashing amber eyes. The bear limped weakly,
looking pathetic and injured. Without looking back, the bear turned and ran
off.
The Wolf-Prince put away his knife in the small leather sheath attached to his
leg and cradled his arm against his chest. There was a long cut down it, a
gouge from the bear’s teeth. Silently, he licked it. When he was finished, he
lifted his amber eyes to the place where Sakura was cowering, rose to his feet,
and closed the small space between them. He wore some soft furs around his hips
and a few plates of simple copper armor on his chest and shoulders. Sometimes,
he only wore his furs when he came to see her at night. Other times, he wore
heavy armored plates thick with detailed metalwork and a quiver and bow over
his shoulder with a sword at his waist. The only thing he never took off was
that small fang-like knife. He had thick lustrous chocolate-colored hair, amber
eyes fringed with thick black lashes, a soft pink mouth, and a gentle oval-
shaped face. He was tall and lean, muscular but not bulky. He was toned and
sleek-bodied like a wolf, but he had only a few features of a wolf. His fingers
had long hooked nails, there were four fangs in the front of his mouth coming
off his eyeteeth, and between his legs was a long bushy tail. Sakura loved to
look at him—watching the animal grace he moved with and studying the curved
claws on his fingertips and the way he talked with his fangs.
“Wait, please, don’t hurt me,” Sakura whispered. She was clutching her tattered
hands to her chest, trembling with excess adrenaline and fear. She had never
been bleeding around him before and she wondered if he was going to react to
the scent of her blood.
“You think…” his voice was rough and low and sounded unused. “You think that I
would hurt you?”
Sakura didn’t say anything.
Carefully, he took her hands in his, lifted them to his mouth, and licked away
some of the blood. “You’ve seen me before. I’ve been in your den,” he murmured.
“Cottage,” she corrected softly.
He didn’t try out the word. “Why are you out here?”
“I need flour. I was gathering herbs to sell in town,” she explained. She
winced as he probed a deep gash on her palm with his tongue and then picked out
a bramble with his teeth. Without looking at her, he spit the thorn and licked
the blood from his face.
“Come back to the den with me. Wolves will take care of you,” he offered.
“I should get back. I can’t be out here like this.”
Those amber eyes of his flashed. “Why do you go back to a pack that doesn’t
want you?”
Sakura stared at him. He had such base thoughts that she never thought of. Why
did she go back? “I don’t know,” she said finally. “But I have to get back.”
She pulled her wounded hands from his grasp, wincing as she opened the clotted
cuts. His nose twitched and his eyes flashed to her hands before going back to
her face.
“Hurt,” he said softly. “You’re hurt. I never leave injured member of the
pack.”
“I’m not a Wolf,” Sakura told him and took a step back. Her back hit a tree and
she couldn’t go any further even as the Wolf-Prince closed the space between
them. She could feel the heat coming off his body and smell the musky scent of
his skin.
“Doesn’t matter,” he said and took a hold of her arm just above her wounds.
“Come back to den with me.”
“Wait—” Sakura protested, but he was finished listening to her.
The Wolf-Prince pulled her flush against his back, hitched her legs up over his
hips, and took off running through the woods. Sakura ducked her head down
against his back, shielding her face from the whipping stinging branches. The
chill from his armor sunk through her clothes and the furs around his waist
tickled her bare thighs. It felt like a very short time before he stopped
running and her feet were back on the ground.
They were standing in front of a waterfall and a beautiful crystal-clear pool
that was constantly sweeping in a whirlpool before finally flowing downstream.
The face of the cliff the water was crashing down over was dark and mossy,
spattered with trees and dense flowering vines. She gazed up with a gasp of
awe, but the Wolf-Prince silently took her hand and led her to a small narrow
ledge that led behind the waterfall. A light mist rained down on Sakura as she
slipped into the Den of the Wolf-People.
The sight that met her eyes was nothing like what she had been expecting. There
was a small chamber just inside the waterfall full of fruit-bearing trees and
other plants that were incessantly watered by the mist of the waterfall. At the
rear was a big tunnel that the Wolf-Prince led her down patiently while she
admired the beautiful paintings and drawings adorning the stone walls. Off this
tunnel there were many other cavernous rooms and a few tunnels that surely led
to other cavernous rooms. Sakura peeked into a few of the rooms as they walked
past and took in the beauty. There were big beds made up with furs, beautiful
pottery, wooden furniture carved with stunning images, paintings in engraved
frames, and other naturalistic works. There were strange glowing mushrooms on
the walls that gave off bright amber light, even a few ornate chandeliers
hanging from the ceiling with those mushrooms like candles in the sconces.
“Wow,” she breathed.
Beside her, the Wolf-Prince’s face eased into a beautiful smile that was all
white teeth and sharp fangs. Other Wolves, some with more wolfish features than
him—ears, more hair, vicious teeth—smiled at him, spoke to him in soft growls
or purrs, touched him. He was clearly loved and respected here.
Finally, the Wolf-Prince stopped at a cavern with a beautifully woven tapestry
hung over the threshold. Sakura recognized it as one of her own and gently
touched it with her fingertips.
“How did you get this?”
He smiled mysteriously, brushed the tapestry aside, and put his hand against
the small of her back to guide her into the room. Those glowing mushrooms where
hanging down from the ceiling in pretty glass lanterns. There was another big
bed with a heavy fur coverlet and the stone walls were painted with a beautiful
bright mural of the world outside—a small cottage on a hill with roses around
the door and a rainbow sunset streaking even over the ceiling.
“Is this your room? Did you paint this?” Sakura asked, awe in her voice.
He nodded and then gently pulled her torn muddied cloak from her shoulders. She
struggled with him for a moment, but the softness in his eyes made her release
the thick fabric. “Sleep here,” he said softly and folded the cloak over his
arm. “I will take you home when you are healed.” He turned to leave, but Sakura
called out to him.
“Wait, what’s your name?”
He paused, hand on the threshold of the door. Those long claws on the tips of
his fingers dug into the stone. “In your language, it would be… Syaoran,” he
said softly. Then, he left her alone in his room.
For a moment, Sakura stood there just staring at the beautiful cavern. Then,
she turned and looked at his bed. It looked so soft and warm and inviting, but
she felt strange about sleeping in the bed of the handsome Wolf-Prince who
sometimes came to sit by her fire and talk quietly to her about her grandfather
late at night. She squeezed her hands into fists and winced at the pain in her
torn hands. Suddenly, her brush with death really hit her and she was very
tired. She pulled off her muddy shoes, muddy skirt, and muddy blouse. In her
underwear, she slipped beneath the warm furs and slept better than she had
since her grandfather’s death.
…
When she woke up, the glowing mushrooms had dimmed to a muted ember-like glow.
She was warm, unbelievably warm, and she wasn’t alone. Terrified, she held her
breath and tried to squirm away until she recognized the small pricking of the
nails the Wolf-Prince, Syaoran, had. Then, she allowed herself to relax, though
she wasn’t sure why. She reached out her hands and carefully touched him. All
she felt was bare skin, soft and warm and ridged with scars. He made a small
sound, almost a growl but more like a purr. Then, he shifted and she saw a
flash of amber iris reflecting the mushrooms’ faint light in the dark.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to wake you. You just… startled me.
I’m used to sleeping alone.”
He blinked. “This is my room.”
Her cheeks tinged pink. “I know. I’m sorry,” she said quickly and pulled back
the covers to get out of his bed. When she pulled back the furs, she realized
he was naked beside her, all bronze skin and beautiful toned muscles and big
thick—whoa! She practically leaped out of the bed, tripped over her own feet,
and slammed hard into the stone floor. Reflexively, she put her hands out in
front of her to break her fall. The wounds tore open again, bleeding anew. She
cried out and quickly cradled her hands against her chest, whimpering in agony.
Syaoran got out of his bed, naked, and came to crouch in front of her. It
seemed he didn’t have a shameful or self-conscious bone in his body. Again, he
took her hands, brought them to his mouth, and lapped at the wounds until the
bleeding had stopped.
Then, he cupped her face in his hands and said softly with some confusion,
“Your face is very red.” He touched her forehead. “Fever?”
Sakura pulled away. “I’m alright,” she told him.
“Then why is your face so red?”
“You’re… um… naked.”
He appeared confused by this, stepping back to sit on the bed. “Yes?”
“Never mind,” Sakura said. “I should be going.”
That brought him to his feet rather quickly. “It is the middle of the night.”
Sakura snatched up her muddied clothes. They crackled stiffly and mud fell to
the floor. “I know, but I should get home.”
He grasped her clothes, standing in front of her. His privates were blessedly
hidden by her knot of dirty clothing. “Humans do not travel in our woods at
night,” he said to her. “Stay.” His eyes were molten amber, burning into her
like fire. Her insides liquefied and her legs felt like jelly.
“Okay…” she murmured and then stared at his naked chest. “Could you… maybe put
some clothes on?”
His brow wrinkled, but he nodded. Sakura tried not to stare at him as he pulled
some soft furs from an ornate truck at the foot of his bed and dressed without
a word. She crawled into his bed, putting her back to him, but he either missed
her nervousness or didn’t care because he slipped beneath the covers and
pressed against her naked back. His furs tickled the backs of her thighs and
his warmth quickly seeping into her cold worried body. His breath was light on
the back of her neck and his heart beat strongly through his ribs so that she
could feel it on her back. He fell asleep quickly, but Sakura was awake for
much longer.
…
In the morning, Syaoran had a plate of fruit and freshly cooked meat waiting
for Sakura when she woke up. She was starving and ate quickly without even
getting out of his bed. Then, she began looking for her clothes, but they were
curiously gone, mud and all. She poked her head around the tapestry. Syaoran
was standing in the tunnel, still wearing the furs he had slept in the night
before, talking to a pretty young redhead with her hair up in pigtails. She was
wearing a lot of white fur and some simple armor with a small slim sword at her
back.
“Um, Syaoran?” Sakura called.
He turned and smiled softly at her. “Good morning. Is something wrong?”
“My clothes are gone.”
“I know.” That was all he said. He turned back to the young woman and continued
talking to her in soft growls and yips.
“Um, Syaoran?”
He turned back again. “Yes?”
“I need my clothes.”
“Why?”
She blinked. “Because I can’t go around in my underwear.”
“Why not?”
“It’s not right.”
“Why—?”
The redhead put a hand on his arm and smiled, showing only two long fangs to
his four. “Why don’t you go find something else to do? I’ll help her.” Like
Syaoran, her voice was rough and unused. She turned to Sakura and said with a
winning smile that was only a little frightening. “My name is Imogen.”
“I’m Sakura.”
Imogen went to her room across the hall and returned with a soft dress of white
fur, trimmed neatly with what looked like lace and embroidered with patterns of
flowers and deer. “You can have this. It is called Memory.”
“Memory?” Sakura repeated and stared at the dress. “It’s so beautiful. I
couldn’t accept something like this.”
“Memories are good,” Imogen said. “Please, keep.” Then, she left, long white
tail swishing behind her.
Smiling to herself, Sakura slipped the beautiful dress over her head. It was
soft and light and warm. Then, she slipped her feet into her boots and left the
Syaoran’s room. She wandered down the tunnel, a little nervous, but all the
Wolf-People offered her small frightening smiles. Finally, she found Syaoran in
the waterfall and plant cavern at the entrance.
“Well, I should be going,” she said to him. “Thank you for taking care of me
last night.” She tried to squeeze past him, but he caught her hand.
His amber eyes were concerned and confused. “Still hurt,” he said.
“I’m okay. They’re only scratches,” Sakura said. “Really.”
He didn’t look convinced, but he let her pull away and slip past him. Sakura
enjoyed the cool mist on her heated skin, but once she was out of sight of the
waterfall and the Den of the Wolf-People she started running and didn’t look
back until she was locked safely inside her cottage.
…
That night, Sakura woke up to black smoke and unbearable heat. Her cottage was
burning. Burning! She bolted out of bed and out the door, but it was stuck. She
beat on the door with her fists, but it wasn’t going to open any time soon. She
whirled around, shoved open the shutters on her only window, and threw herself
outside.
“She got out! What are we going to do?!” A voice she recognized as the healer
she sold all her herbs to shrieked.
“Quick, shoot her! Shoot her! Before she calls the Wolf-People!”
Sakura rolled out of the way seconds before a shovel slammed down where her
head had been. There was a small assembly of villagers with torches,
pitchforks, shovels, and shotguns. Their faces were all white with terror, eyes
bloodshot. The leader—the blacksmith—leveled his shotgun at her face. He was
shaking wildly, terrified of her.
“Get out of here, Wolf-witch!” the healing woman shouted at her, flinging salt
in Sakura’s face.
Blinded and about to die for the second time in two days, Sakura staggered to
her feet and took off running through the forest. She didn’t know how they had
found out she had been with the Wolf-People yesterday, but there was no arguing
that they knew and they would never accept her back into society. She ran
through the forest, sobbing and blindly trying to find her way back to the Den.
She was quickly lost in the dark forest. She stepped on something that speared
easily through her foot. She fell, clutching her foot with both hands, sobbing
wildly. She tried to get back up, but couldn’t.
Lying on the ground in the beautiful white fur Memory dress, she cried out for
Syaoran.
…
The Wolf-Prince was out hunting with Imogen, enjoying the cool night air and
the beautiful stretch of diamond stars overhead. He wasn’t wearing his armor,
only his waist furs and his small fang-knife strapped to his thigh. Imogen, on
the other hand, was decked out in her favorite white furs and white-gold armor
with her red hair loose around her shoulders. Suddenly, she stopped and put her
nose to the air, sniffling delicately.
“That girl… I smell her blood,” Imogen said.
“Sakura’s blood?” Syaoran repeated.
“Yes,” she said. “Smell.”
Syaoran put his nose to the air and inhaled deeply. Sure enough, Imogen was
right. He did smell Sakura’s blood, but he also smelled… “Smoke?”
She nodded. “I will investigate the scent of burning. You go get the human
girl.”
Syaoran nodded and took off through the woods at top speed.
Imogen went in the opposite direct as her prince, going towards the end of the
forest while he was going in deeper. Sure enough, she came to the smoldering
remains of a neat little cottage that was thick with the scent of the human
girl. She crept out of the woods, feeling vulnerable and exposed but the place
was deserted. It looked like whoever had torched the cottage had cleared out
fast. She picked her way through the smoking rubble, searching for anything
salvageable for the human girl, Sakura. She found a small blown-glass vase that
was covered in black soot but not broken. There didn’t seem to be anything else
that was unsigned or broken. Imogen put the vase into her waist pouch and
stepped back into the dark safety of the forest.
It didn’t take Syaoran long to find Sakura. She was curled up tightly,
clutching her legs to her chest and sobbing like her heart was broken. There
was a lot of blood coming from her foot and she had a few burns on her bare
skin. Worriedly, he crouched beside her and gently touched her shoulder.
“Sakura?” he murmured.
She rolled over to face him, green eyes glowing in the darkness. “Syaoran,” she
whispered.
He nodded and carefully gathered her up in his arms.
She clutched at him, sobbing into his chest. “They tried to kill me.”
“Kill you?”
“The villagers,” she choked out. “They must have found out that I was with you
and they tried to kill me. They set my cottage on fire and locked me inside. I
thought I was going to die!”
Syaoran looked at her for a moment, cradled safely in his arms, not
understanding why her people would have tried to kill her. In his pack, nothing
short of murder would make him even consider a killing. Then, he said simply,
“Return to den with me, Sakura.”
She nodded readily and buried her face in Syaoran’s bare chest. She fell asleep
in his arms while he carried her back to the den, exhausted from her second
near-death experience and injuries and crying jag. He brought her to his room
and laid her in his bed, tucking the heavy fur blankets around her shivering
body. He sat down on his bed beside her, watching her pale face twisted with
nightmarish expressions.
Imogen swept aside his tapestry and walked up to stand at the side of his bed.
“What was burning?” he asked her.
“Her home,” Imogen said softly and showed his the small blown-glass vase. “This
was all I could find.”
“That bad?”
“Nothing but ashes,” Imogen told him.
Syaoran pushed some soft caramel tresses out of Sakura’s face.
“She has nowhere to go now. You’ve tainted her with your presence,” Imogen
said.
“I didn’t mean to…”
Imogen touched his bare shoulder. “You can’t turn her out.”
“But she’s not a Wolf. She’s a human.”
“So?”
“You’re right,” Syaoran murmured. “I’ll tell her when she wakes up.”
Imogen pressed the vase into his palm and then left him alone with Sakura.
…
When Sakura woke up, there were warm arms wrapped around her and long fingers
curled around a familiar glass vase that she used to have in her cottage… her
poor burned cottage. Tears burned in her eyes and caught in her throat. She
pressed both injured hands to her mouth, trying to stifle her sobs, but to no
avail.
The Wolf-Prince had incredible hearing, even asleep.
“I have no home, Syaoran,” she sobbed.
“Stay with me.”
“I can’t. I’m not a Wolf.”
“Doesn’t matter,” he whispered. “Become mated with me and you will become
Wolf.”
“I’ll change into a Wolf?” She sounded a little nervous, but also awed.
He chuckled. “No, but you will be family, part of pack,” he murmured.
“I can’t…”
“Why?”
“Because…” But she didn’t have a reason. She had nothing left. “I don’t know.”
He kissed her bare shoulder. His lips were soft and warm and she felt his fangs
brush her skin. It sent a shiver down her spine that settled deep in the pit of
her stomach like a broken flame, filling her with heat and comfort.
“Syaoran…”
“Just say yes to me. I will give you everything you have lost—family, pack,
friends, companionship, love.”
“Love?” she whispered. “But I’m a human.”
“So am I… a small part of me is.” He kissed her shoulder again and she felt
flat human teeth along with his sharp wolf fangs.
She rolled over in his arms, putting her hands on his chest and kissed his
cheek timidly. Syaoran enveloped her in his arms, stroking his hands down her
back. He was naked again, but now Sakura understood why he was so comfortable
with his nudity and confused by her discomfort. Half of him might have been
human, but the other half was Wolf. He slipped his hands beneath the dress
Imogen had given her and touched her bare thighs with the tips of his claws.
Shivers wracked her body and goose bumps rose on every inch of her skin.
“Syaoran,” she gasped as the tip of a claw touched her sensitive pearl through
her panties. “Be careful.”
He curled his finger and stroked her with his knuckle. She pushed herself
against his hand, writhing with pleasure. She had never been touched before and
every brush of his fingers lit her on fire. Syaoran touched her face with his
free hand, turning her toward him and gently kissed her lips. She felt the
brush of his tongue on her lower lip, hesitated, and then opened her mouth for
him. He enticed her tongue to dance with his, drawing her into his own mouth.
She felt his fangs, but did not pull away. She was not afraid of him, even as
she felt the scratch of his claws on her bare thighs and the tickle of his tail
on her shins.
Syaoran cradled her and gently stripped her of the dress she was wearing.
Before she could hide herself from him, he trailed a burning path with his lips
down her chest. He licked at her breasts, drawing each nipple into his mouth in
turn and suckling lightly. She threaded her fingers through his hair, clutching
him closer. He pulled away from her grip as he went down her body to the
waistband of her panties. Those claws were deadly sharp, she realized, as he
cut through the fabric with the tip of one. She felt the first touch of fear as
he stroked her moist slit with his fingers, feeling the brush of those claws,
but she knew he wouldn’t try to hurt her.
One finger pushed into her, stroking her walls, at the same moment his lips
fastened around her tender pearl. His tongue lavished attention on every inch
of her sex, lapping up the juices she gave him. He was pumping her and
suckling, teasing and tormenting, and he felt so good. She gripped his soft
hair, pulling him closer to her and moaned softly. Something was tightening in
her belly, so hot and tight that it was almost uncomfortable. She squirmed,
whispering his name. Suddenly, her muscles seized and everything burned,
tingling with pleasure.
Her first orgasm.
She could hear Syaoran lapping at her, feel his tongue pushing inside to drink
her nectar, fingers still stroking, but slower. When the wave passed, he kissed
his way up her body and gently kissed her lips. She could taste herself on him,
but was not disgusted. She felt his arousal on her leg and recalled her glance
of him the other night.
He was big then, limp and sleepy. Now, he looked as if he could tear her apart.
“Syaoran, you’re so… big. Will you hurt me?” she whispered.
He looked down as if unsure and didn’t say anything. Gently, he wrapped his
arms around her and shifted her onto her hands and knees. Her body was weak and
tremulous from her orgasm. Gently, he grasped her hips and she felt him probing
at her soft moist entrance. The anticipation made her lightheaded. Slowly, he
began to fill her to the brim. Her arms gave out and she collapsed beneath him,
stretched out long and languid like a cat. He supported her hips with one arm,
keeping her ass raised to his level.
“Does this hurt you?”
“No,” she gasped. “You’re so… You’re filling me up.”
“I am not all the way in,” he said softly.
She tensed, muscles clamping down. He leaned forward and kissed the back of his
neck.
“Just breathe…”
She felt his chest expand and contract against her back and followed his
breathing, feeling his heartbeat on her skin. Then, he pushed all the way into
her. For a moment, there was nothing but white-hot pain and tears welled up in
her eyes. She dug her fingers into the bed, gasping. Syaoran remained still,
letting her adjust to his size. Then, he moved just a little, a small thrust.
Sakura lost herself to the pleasure and heat of him, she would’ve begged for
more if she could have found her voice, but she didn’t have to.
Gently at first, he began to make love to her. Pulling nearly all the way and
then thrusting deeply into her, he set a slow tantalizing pace. When she was
gasping desperately and impossibly wet, he sped up and reached around her hips
to fondle her breasts with both hands. The press of his hot skin nearly sent
her over the edge. Then, he shifted his hips and began to strike something deep
inside that made her cry out in ecstasy. Pleased, he aimed for the spot over
and over again. Suddenly, the coil in her belly was back, tighter than ever,
and she clamped down on him so hard it was like she wanted to keep him inside
forever. He was brought over by her orgasm, spilling his seed inside her, hot
and thick.
Gently, he adjusted them both to lie on their sides, her back against his
chest, their knees lined up, him still buried to the hilt deep inside her. For
a moment, they both panted, catching their breath and then he kissed the back
of her neck.
“Sakura, you are Wolf now. We are mated for life.”
She turned her head and carefully kissed him. She didn’t have anything to say.
He had given her everything—a family, a home, a new life, love, and maybe… a
child. She touched her stomach, trying to imagine it growing with life. Then,
she smiled and allowed her eyes to drift closed. Syaoran remained awake for a
little longer, feeling himself begin to soften and sleep inside her. He inhaled
the scent of his new mate. She smelled sweet and soft like flower blossoms
already beginning to mix with the musky scent of his skin. Finally, his eyes
drifted closed and sleep swept him gently into a world where he could have her
again. When he awoke again, hard and ready, he was already inside her and woke
his mate gently by moving against her, striking that most pleasurable spot.
He was sure they kept Imogen, who slept across the hall, up most of the night
with the sounds they made, but he was sure she wouldn’t mind and he didn’t care
anyway.
X X X
Questions, comments, concerns, suggestions?
***** The Painter's Sweetheart *****
For Blueifrog88.
Summary: Sakura and Syaoran were childhood friends. After a ten year
separation, how will they react to seeing each other again?
X X X
Saying goodbye to him was the hardest thing she had ever done in her short
twelve-year-old life. He was her best friend and she said one day she was going
to marry him in a beautiful church in her mother’s pretty white wedding gown
with her father walking her down the aisle, but… Life is unpredictable and
messy and often doesn’t go as planned. As it turned out, his father got the job
he had been praying for, but that meant… they had to move away, far away, away
from her, and all her dreams of him were crushed. Saying goodbye to him was the
hardest thing she had ever done. She was standing in front of his house—it had
the greenest lawn on the block and his father watered it twice daily—with
favorite forest-green jacket clutched to her chest. He had it by the other end,
trying to tug it from her hands.
“I don’t want you to go,” she sobbed, big green eyes aching and wet-dry.
“I have to. My dad’s wanted this job forever,” he explained. He was thirteen,
older and smarter than her and seeing this terrible move from his father’s
perspective.
Selfishly, she wanted him to stay… just for her. “No!”
He said her name and it sounded like molten chocolate. Her knees quivered and
she collapsed into him, shivering with cold and exhaustion from crying. He
hugged her, to mature for girl-cooties anymore, not that he had ever thought
she had them.
“I’m sorry. I have to go,” he said softly into her long caramel-colored
tresses. “I’ll write you.”
“Promise?” she whispered, hiccupping desperately.
“I promise,” he said firmly and pushed her back. “I promise,” he said and
smiled at her.
She felt her own candy-pink lips curve into a small toothy smile even through
her tears. She couldn’t be unhappy, not when he was happy.
His father gripped his shoulders, guiding him to the waiting moving van,
leading him away, while her father held her by her arms, preventing her from
chasing after him.
Her best friend, her love, looked back and his amber eyes glowed like fireflies
in the darkness of the setting sun. He called goodbye to her and she screamed
his name as the moving van pulled away, taillights glowing like ugly red eyes.
Her father held her back and then embraced her tightly in his arms, getting on
his knees at her small level. He said something comforting, but she didn’t
remember what it was now. All she remembered doing was crying, crying her
little heart out.
Then, she remembered the black abyss of waiting—waiting for his letters, his
pictures at Christmas, his Halloween dress-up, his Valentines all covered in
glue, his postcards from vacations… When she got those pieces of parchment, she
was so happy she felt as if she could fly, but over time, the letters started
coming less and less frequently. Then, she moved from her childhood home and
she stopped hearing from him at all…
That was ten years ago.
Seeing him again was the hardest thing she had ever done in her longer twenty-
two-year-old life. She wanted so badly to run up to him and swamp him in all
her saved childish friendship-love, but he had a pretty girl with jet-black
hair in a slinky little red dress hanging on his arm so she settled for just
walking up to him with her fingers tightened to white around her cold drink
glass—and there was no doubt in her mind that it was him, those amber eyes were
unmistakable—and saying softly, “Syaoran?”
He turned to face her, mouth still grinning from whatever the girl on his arm
had said. For a moment, he stared at her, dumbstruck, mouth hanging open. Then,
he whispered, “Sakura?” and there really was no chance that it couldn’t have
been him. “You’ve grown.”
“So have you,” she whispered and her green eyes brimmed over with crystal happy
tears. Then, he said the most heartbreaking thing she had ever heard and she
was so happy that she was already crying or else it would have given her away.
“This is Lena, my girlfriend.”
Lena reached out one beautifully manicured hand with gleaming red-dagger nails
and coldly shook Sakura’s warm hand. “A pleasure to meet an old…” she glanced
at Syaoran questioningly.
“Friend,” he said. “She’s my closest childhood friend.”
Lena made a face inwardly. She had never had any competition before and she
didn’t like it, didn’t like the way Syaoran’s amber eyes were captivated by
this small slender simple young woman. Lena was a city girl, slick and sensible
and cold. “Friend, then. Sakura, right?”
“Yes.” Sakura had a sweet little smile on her lips, but she wasn’t even looking
at Lena. She had those grass-green eyes on Syaoran, never straying from his
face.
“Um, Syao, we have a party to get to, so can we leave?” Lena asked sharply,
tugging on his arm.
“Just a minute, Lena. I haven’t seen Sakura in years.”
“This is your exhibition for your artwork. You, of all people, cannot be late,”
Lena said darkly, glaring into Syaoran’s face—not that he noticed, as busy
staring at this Sakura as he was. Then she turned to Sakura and said cruelly,
“So all old cheap flings aside, we must be going.”
Sakura’s eyes ran over and she recoiled as if struck. Had Syaoran really told
Lena that she was an old fling? She thought they were friends, still friends,
even after all this time, even after ten years. Desperately, she whirled and
ran out of the restaurant.
Syaoran whirled on Lena. “How could you say that to her? I just told you she’s
an old friend and you say she’s an old fling of all things! What is wrong with
you?”
Lena dug her fingers into him. “Syaoran, you are mine. I don’t want you talking
to other girls.”
He wrinkled his brow at her, biting his lip. She was suddenly less beautiful.
She was more like a harpy, all fangs and claws underneath that beautiful white
skin and dark night-black hair. “Lena, I have to go. I need to talk to Sakura,”
he said finally.
Her eyes narrowed into dark slits. “If you walk out that door after her, my
door will not be open for you anymore,” Lena threatened.
Syaoran peeled her off his arm. “Then I guess you can mail me your key to my
apartment. She’s my friend and I haven’t seen her in ten years. Goodbye Lena.”
She was left standing in the restaurant alone in her slinky little dress,
looking damn stupid and feeling fucking pissed. How could he just walk out on
her like that?! For some old friend that he hadn’t seen in forever?! She
stomped her feet, high heels clattering on the cool tile. What had started out
as a beautifully promising evening of getting into his pants and guaranteeing
her future with his money and his art had suddenly turned into nothing but mud.
Enraged, Lena grabbed her fur coat, stuffed herself into it, and stormed out
the door. Sakura had turned left outside the restaurant and Syaoran had managed
to turn in the right direction to follow her, but Lena turned right and avoided
the scene taking place just a few blocks away.
Sakura stumbled into a darkened alley, leaning hard against the wall, panting
and sobbing. She could hear Syaoran shouting her name, but she didn’t respond
to him. She slumped down, wrapping her arms around her bent knees and sobbing
into them.
How could he…? She had dreamed about him for so long, wondering if he missed
her, if he thought about her at all… And apparently he did, but not in a fond
way.
Desperately, she sobbed her heart out.
There was movement across from her in the alley and a scrubby dirty homeless
man sat up from where he had been sleeping under a heap of newspapers. His big
bloodshot eyes shone in the darkness. “Some man done you wrong?” he rasped.
“Yeah,” Sakura sobbed.
“Want me to make it better?”
“How?”
He got up on his knees and leaned towards her. His beard scratched her face and
he tried to kiss her. With a shriek, she hurled herself away from him, landing
on her face on the pavement. Stars exploded behind her eyes and she let out a
gasp of pain.
“Sakura?!” Syaoran’s voice was like that of an angel and he appeared at the
mouth of the alleyway.
The old man needed no warning or threats. He simply muttered, “That the guy?”
Sakura didn’t answer him, just gasped out, “Syaoran…”
The homeless man scurried away like a roach when the light is turned on.
Syaoran got on his knees at her side and cradled her head in his hands. “Are
you alright?”
“Yeah…” she gasped and allowed him to pull her to her feet and cradle her
wavering body against his broad strong chest. She traced his muscles, feeling
his pounding heartbeat and the heat of his flesh and inhaling ht scent of his
skin. Then, she remembered she was mad at him and shoved him away.
“Sakura, wait, please!” He sounded desperate.
“No.” She stumbled down the alley, away from him.
“Lena was lying. She’s a… she’s a bitch.”
“She’s your girlfriend.”
“I think we broke up.”
“You think?”
“She said if I went after you, she wouldn’t be there when I got back.”
Sakura stopped, leaning on the cold brick wall. She gasped some air into her
parched lungs. “You broke up with her… for me?”
He padded up behind her and gently put his hands on her bare shoulders. His
skin was warm and soft. “Just to see you, just to talk to you, I broke up with
the girl I’ve been dating for two years, doesn’t that tell you that you’re
important to me?”
“So, you didn’t tell her I was a fling?”
“No,” he said softly.
She collapsed to her knees on the street, sobbing and crying again. He gently
embraced her, cradling her against his chest. She clutched at his shirt, at his
tie, at his face, and threaded her fingers through his thick chocolate hair.
“Sakura, come home with me. Let’s talk,” he whispered into her hair like he had
the night they had parted so long ago.
“I’d like that,” she whispered. “I’d like that a lot.”
…
Syaoran’s apartment was soft and muted and smelled of acrylic paint and
turpentine and his skin. He had a mug of coffee in the sink, a mug on the
table, and the pot was still half-full beneath the maker. No other dishes were
out. There were big beautiful painting hanging on the walls—of flowers and
water, of stunning women, of lovely children, of big black cities brimming over
with light. There was a spread of paints on the coffee table, an easel at the
window with a canvas covered in deep smeary cobalt paint with the beginning of
a big white moon, and a vase of dirty water on the kitchen table with several
brushes soaking in it. The apartment was clean and tidy.
“You’re an artist?” she whispered, awed, as she went to his window and looked
out over the sparkling candied lights of the city.
“Yeah,” he said softly. Then, he gently took her hand. “I want to show you
something. I call it,” he paused and sounded like his heart was caught in his
throat. “I call it Sweetheart.”
The painting hanging on the wall was half the size that he was and only a
little wider. There was a beautiful girl with soft wispy caramel colored hair,
a few strands around her face braided prettily with gold ribbons tied at the
ends, and big jade-green eyes. She was wearing a pretty summery cotton dress,
all white with beautiful gold embroidery. She had a big bouquet of pink and red
blossoms in her hands, cradled against her chest with her lips pressed to a
single tall white orchid pushing up from the bunch. In the background was a
shining carnival, the Ferris wheel taking up most of the background with the
spinning teacups a whirl in the side.
“W-who is this?” she whispered.
“You,” he said softly. “Sweetheart.”
She turned to face him, eyes red-rimmed and shining with tears. “When?”
“This one, just last month.”
“She… you… are my best seller.”
“How long have you been painting her… me?”
“Since I left, ten years ago. I painted her in art and someone visiting my art
class wanted to buy her. That’s how I got started.”
“Wow,” Sakura breathed and tenderly touched the smooth canvas. “I’m not this
beautiful.”
“You are,” he whispered and gently cupped her face in his hands. His lips
gently touched her cheek, soft and warm, like bliss.
She made a small sound and then pushed him away. “I can’t… I love you too much.
It would mean too much.”
“You love me?”
She laughed a little. “I still want to marry you, just like when we were kids.”
“Then what’s wrong with kissing me?”
“I’ll want more,” she confessed, touching his chest and down to his stomach.
“You can have more.”
Then, he gently and hesitantly kissed her mouth. For a moment, she resisted
him, but then clutched him tightly and melted. Syaoran licked her lower lip,
begging entrance that she readily allowed, toying with his tongue. He ran his
hands down her back, pressing her tight against him, feeling her breasts heave
with her ragged breaths. She tugged on his shirt, pulling him towards the couch
backwards. The cushions hit the back of her knees and she fell back with him
snuggled neatly between her parted legs. She felt his hard arousal at her
crotch, easily felt through the thin fabric of her dress and her cotton
panties.
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
“I’ve wanted you for ten years,” she gasped against his mouth, desperately
kissing him.
He pulled away. “Since you were twelve?” he asked incredulously.
“Technically. I always wanted you to come home, but I only started wanting
this—” she cupped his crotch “—for about four years.”
He groaned at her touch. “Four years…”
“Yeah, so don’t make me wait any longer.”
“I won’t, sweetheart.”
Then, there were no more words between them, just frenzied animalistic action
and fiery passion. Syaoran pulled her dress over her head and she tore his
shirt out of his pants and fumbled his belt out of the loops completely.
Syaoran slipped his fingers into her panties while she pushed down his pants.
He delved into her immediately and she was already hot and wet for him. She
gasped at his touch, digging her fingers into his bare shoulders.
Then, he felt a barrier inside her.
“Sakura, are you a virgin?” he whispered.
“Yes. I was waiting…” Her face turned pink. “So, be gentle.”
“Always,” he whispered.
Then, he slithered out of his slacks and lifted her legs over his shoulders,
positioning himself at her entrance. She wrapped her arms around him and took a
deep breath. He plunged into her with one smooth movement and he hated the
small cry that slipped out of her mouth.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes.” She dug her fingers through is hair. “Now, move.”
He was more than happy to oblige his oldest friend and oldest love.
Syaoran pulled out of her nearly to the tip, startled by the small bit of
virgin blood on him, but quickly pushed back in. She gasped his name, clutching
his shoulders and hair and pulling his face towards her. She desperately kissed
him, nipping his lips and drawing his tongue into her mouth, but she could only
kiss him for a short time before her gasping in pleasure overrode her desire
for his lips. She simply clutched him, gasping and moaning as he drove into her
over and over.
“Sakura, I’m going to…”
She only gasped, crying out his name. Her cheeks were pink and beautiful, lips
parted and damp.
Syaoran touched her clit and she immediately screamed in pleasure. Her muscles
clamped down on his like a vice, bringing him quickly to the edge. He spilled
heat inside her and then, collapsed against her breasts. She stroked his hair
and cheeks and lips. They lay together, naked, for a long time, just touching
and enjoying having each other again. Then, Syaoran looked up into her
beautiful face, relishing the loving glow in her eyes as she looked down at
him.
He smiled at her and whispered, “I feel like painting.”
“More Sweetheart, more me?”
“Yeah, but with a twist.”
“What’s the twist?”
His tongue snaked out and tasted her breasts. “Naked.”
She giggled, surprisingly. “Would you like me to model?”
“Actually, I think I need some inspiration first.”
“Oh, do you?” she said and trailed her fingers down his chest. “I think I can
help you with that.”
He smiled, imagining his Sweetheart naked and flushed with the afterglow of
sex. Yeah, that would be his new bestseller.
X X X
Questions, comments, concerns?
Message me if you have something you’d like to see.
***** The Demon and the Priestess *****
For Fatalis The Expiriment.
“Howl” belongs to Florence and the Machine.
Summary: Trapped in the body of a monster, only someone pure of heart and body
can save him, but will she?
X X X
Priestess Sakura donned her red hakama pants and white kimono and checked her
reflection in her small silver hand mirror. Her bright green eyes were sharp
and prepared, her caramel tresses were wispy around her pale cream-colored
face, and her mouth was set in a determined line. This was the face she needed.
Then, she gathered her purification salt and her sutras and what was left of
her ragged nerves. She had been meditating for several hours in preparation for
her latest test of wills. She was a miko capable of performing exorcisms with
great ease. She had performed over one hundred exorcisms in her short twenty-
two years of life.
The paper screen to her room slid open and her close friend, Tomoyo, peeked her
head in. She offered Sakura a smile and asked her, “Ready to go? The cart’s
here.”
“As ready as I’ll ever be…” Sakura said with a sigh.
Tomoyo’s brow wrinkled with concern. “Are you afraid?”
“A little,” Sakura confessed.
“Why? This is your one hundred and twenty-seventh exorcism, isn’t it?”
“It is,” she agreed.
“Then what…?”
“There have been a lot of dead in Kimiki Village. This may be my hardest
exorcism yet, Tomoyo. What if I don’t make it back?”
Tomoyo came into the room and hugged her friend tightly. “Oh, Sakura, you
will.”
“But my mother…”
“Sakura,” Tomoyo whispered.
But Sakura pulled away. Sakura’s mother had been a fantastic exorcist, a woman
with an unbreakable will and a powerful spirit, but she had been slaughtered by
an incredibly powerful demon living inside the body of Sakura’s father. She had
just been unable to cause pain to the man she loved by exorcising him. Since
that day, Sakura was living in fear of the day she came across a demon she
couldn’t exorcise. Though so far, she had been able to complete all her tasks,
even banishing the demon from a beautiful little girl while she screamed
bloody-murder in the arms of her mother.
…
Kimiki Village was deserted when Sakura arrived. The doors were tightly closed,
windows barred, children and wives inside, husbands standing armed at the
doorways. Sakura walked the streets silently and finally reached the hut of the
priestess of Kimiki Village.
The old woman was long past her prime and could definitely not handle a great
battle of wills with a demon, but she welcomed Sakura in and told her what had
happened and all she knew about what Sakura would be dealing with.
“The boys name is Syaoran Li,” the old miko said to Sakura softly. “This
started about six weeks ago. He began acting strange—trembling constantly,
unable to sleep, unable to eat, and sometimes his voice would turn into an
awful hoarse croak. Then, it started getting worse. When he did force himself
to eat, he was violently sick—hacking up black bile and blood. After that, he
started to hurt himself. He clawed up his arms and even part of his face as if
trying to dig into the center of his body. About two weeks ago, he vanished
without a trace and we thought maybe he had killed himself.”
“But,” Sakura encouraged when the old woman stopped speaking.
“He appeared in the village last week and he’s become a monster,” the old miko
said finally. “His body is twisted and snarled. His fingers have become claws
and his back is hunched into a knot. He looks like a wolf-beast and the demon
has completely eaten his heart and soul. I am sure that there is no part of
Syaoran left inside his body. I am afraid the demon is going to kill people in
the village and he needs to be stopped.”
Sakura nodded and stood up from the warmth of the miko’s fire. “I trust you are
keeping wards to prevent him from entering the village.”
“Yes, but I am not young and cannot hold them much longer.”
“I understand.” Then, she left the hut and headed off into the dense woods
surrounding the village. “Syaoran Li,” she whispered. “I will attempt to
exorcise your spirit, but I cannot promise salvation. If it is unreachable, I
shall kill you.”
It was dark in the woods and Sakura made her way blind, depending only on her
own strong sixth-sense to alert her of the demon’s presence. Finally, she
sensed it—a faint flicker of darkness somewhere off to her right and she
charged through the brush. She found the small yawning mouth of a cave and,
sure enough, she felt the demon’s presence seeping out of the darkness. She lit
the lantern she carried and bravely went inside.
In the deep darkness, her lantern barely scratched the surface.
Priestess Sakura steeled herself and clenched a sutra in her palm. She took in
a deep breath and began her protective chant. “Buddha protects us,” she
murmured as she breached the dark mouth of the cave. “We are protected from
that which is summoned.” Then, she repeated her chant endlessly as she probed
deeper into the heart of the earth.
Then, she heard a low demonic growl and the lantern of twin red orbs shone
through the darkness.
Sakura lifted her lantern to illuminate the creature hunkered against the wall
of the cave. “Syaoran Li?”
The creature growled again and blinked at her, but she could make out that he
was vaguely human beneath a heavy layer of coarse black fur. His mouth had
twisted into a maw full of sharp teeth and his hands were gnarled black claws
instead of fingers. In those claws, he held the remains of something bloody and
dead, eating noisily.
“Syaoran Li, I am Priestess Sakura. I am here to exorcise the demon from you.”
He growled again and straightened up. As the old miko had said, his back was
hunched down but even so he towered over Sakura’s petite frame.
“Buddha protects us,” Sakura repeated. “We are protected from that which is
summoned.”
The monster growled and lunged at her, but Sakura had been expecting that. She
slammed her sutra and palm into the monster’s chest and blasted all her will
and energy into the beast. “Give me your name. demon!” she shouted.
The sutra blasted power through his body and he let out a howl of agony.
“Give me your name!” she shouted again.
“Syaoran!”
“Demon, give me your name!”
“Belial!”
“I force you in the name of Buddha to leave this boy’s body! Leave!”
“Never!” the creature snarled.
She began her chant again, forcing her will into the demon’s soul and battling
it back. He would not win and she would force him out. Sure enough, Sakura’s
record shone through and she managed to blast the creature from Syaoran’s body.
Abruptly, the boy crumpled like a wet paper doll and she quickly pressed a
sutra to his bare flesh. With a howl, she heard the demon go shrieking out of
the cave, but she had placed a ward at the mouth of the cave before entering.
The demon smashed into the barrier and demolished itself with a sizzle.
Panting, Sakura set down her lantern and gently rolled Syaoran over onto his
back. The hair was melting from his body, the maw of his mouth returned to
normal, and his claws shrinking. Finally, she was cradling a human in her arms
again albeit a human with blood smeared all over his mouth and chest and a
giant burn on his chest where her sutra had been.
“Syaoran Li?” she asked.
“Yes,” he croaked and opened his swollen eyes. The color was deep amber and
haunted with the darkness of his possession. “What happened?”
“You were possessed by the demon Belial.”
“Oh,” he croaked. “Are you my angel?”
“No. I am an exorcism-priestess from Shin Temple.”
“Then, I’m not dead?”
“No,” she breathed and smoothed his dark chocolate hair back from his face. He
really was a beautiful young man with those big glowing amber eyes and his
smooth white flesh. He was battered and bruised from whatever the demon had
been using his body for, but his body was defined and toned nicely.
“Oh,” he whispered and his eyes slid closed.
She removed her white kimono top and wrapped his naked body in it, leaving
herself in only her wrap and hakama pants. Then, she gently pulled him to his
feet and put his arm over her shoulder, supporting him gently. Silently, she
gathered her lantern and sutra and brought the young man back to Kimiki
Village. There, she placed sutras on his house and warded it in case another
demon came for him that night. Then, she bid goodbye to the old miko and
returned to her temple.
...
When Syaoran woke, he couldn’t remember the past six weeks of his life. All he
remembered was the beautiful face of a young woman with green eyes and caramel
hair. He asked his mother about her, but she wouldn’t say. He remembered only
one thing that she had said to him—Shin Temple—and decided that he just had to
find the young woman who had saved his life. So, with that in mind, he set off
from his small village and into the unknown.
…
Sakura had been going through much of the same, she just couldn’t stop thinking
about the young man who she had exorcised the month before. She just couldn’t
get his eyes out of her mind and his soft sweet voice as he asked if he was
dead and if she was his angel. She just had to see him again, but she was a
priestess and couldn’t just leave her post to go traipsing after boys. So, she
remained at the temple where she belonged.
...
Shin Temple’s great red shrine gate was polished to a shin and hung with paper
streamers. Just behind it was a wall to prevent forward-moving demons from
entering the sanctuary. At the center of the shrine, there was a giant cinnamon
tree that filled the courtyard with wonderful scents of Christmas and holidays.
Syaoran made his way into the temple and asked for the priestess that had come
to Kimiki Village.
The young miko had long dark hair and big honest eyes. “You mean Sakura? Who
are you?”
“Syaoran Li. The young man she exorcised. I have to talk to her!”
“I understand,” the young woman said. “She should be out at the waterfall. Just
follow the stone path by the fox guardian to the end.”
“Thank you…”
The waterfall was a lovely beautiful place for meditation and keeping wards.
Standing beneath the endless spray of the water, naked and gleaming, was the
beautiful priestess who had pulled him back from the depths of darkness. She
was gorgeous with her nipples pebbled with cold and her sex guarded by caramel
curls. Her hair was plastered to her face and shoulders and her hands were
knotted in prayer. Syaoran sat at the edge of the water, waiting for her to
finish.
It was dark when Sakura finished her mediation. She pulled on her white kimono
and then she saw him. It was the young man she had exorcised. He was curled up,
asleep, at the edge of the water. How long had he been waiting for her to
finish?
She touched his shirt and found it damp from the mist. She made a quick fire
nearby to dry both him and herself and then woke him with a gentle shake.
“Syaoran Li?” she began. “What are you doing here?”
He rubbed his face and sat up. “I had to see you.”
“Why?”
Those amber eyes of his seemed to glow in the dark. Had another demon possessed
him?
He shook his head. “No, I just… I couldn’t get you out of my head. I just had
to see you. I don’t know why. I can’t explain it.”
Sakura hugged her knees to her chest. “I’ve been thinking about you too.”
His kiss was sudden and sent racing butterflies through her stomach. She turned
to face him, opening her mouth to ask him why, but he kissed her again and she
just didn’t care. Syaoran was above her, on top of her, his mouth devouring her
own. Sakura clung to him, gripping his body tightly too her. When his hands
lightly pushed her robe open and fell on her bared flesh, she didn’t stop him.
She didn’t even think too. All she did was arch into his touch.
He kissed her throat, suckling lightly at her pulse, and his hands cupped her
exposed breasts. He fit between her spread legs and she felt his arousal, his
want, and his need. She cupped him through his trousers and he groaned. Why was
she doing this? She was like a rutting beast in heat, but she didn’t care. She
wanted him to keep touching her. She wanted to feel every inch of his flesh
against her own bared body.
She peeled off his shirt and pressed against him, naked chest to chest. His
mouth found hers again and devoured her, panting against her mouth, “Do you
want me?”
“Yes,” she breathed.
He wriggled out of his trousers and slid into her without any preparation, but
she was so wet it hardly mattered. He felt enormous, stretching her virgin
pussy to its limits. Sakura dug into him, moaning his name, and Syaoran filled
the rest of her with one quick thrust that broke completely through her
virginal barrier. She gasped out in small pain, but it was nothing compared to
the pelasure that coursed through her blood.
She gasped him name and then cried out, “Faster!”
Syaoran pounded into her and then suddenly rolled her over onto her hands and
knees. Stretching out on her arms, Sakura lifted her ass higher for him. This
angle plunged him deeper, harder, faster, and she screamed in pleasure. She
didn’t care what kind of attention she attracted, human or demon. Syaoran just
felt far too good inside her.
His fingers cupped her dripping stuffed sex and then her twisted her clit in
his fingers. She was so overloaded with sensations and pleasure that that one
touch to her sensitive pearl was enough to send her screaming over the edge.
Her muscles clamped down and Syaoran spilled deeply inside of her.
Panting, Syaoran asked, “Do you believe in the gods?”
“Of course. I’m a priestess,” she panted back. Her body felt like gelatin.
“I think the gods brought you to me.”
“And the demons brought me to you,” she giggled.
Syaoran smiled and lay down beside her.
“I guess… you can’t be an exorcist anymore, can you?” he asked suddenly.
“You’re not a virgin priestess anymore.”
She squeezed his hand and smiled. “I don’t think that matters anymore.”
Watching from the shadows, golden demon eyes flashed. So, it had worked. Their
greatest threat, Shin Temple’s Priestess Sakura, was no longer a virgin and no
longer a threat. They could move freely now and do whatever they wished. There
had been no one of her caliber since her mother. Love always made quick work of
exorcists.
X X X
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