Primitive Desires

A tantalizing touch. A lingering breath. A delicious, deceptive desire. And maybe asin. Her eyes shut at that thought. A sin. The cool wind kissed her sweet face, ruffling her shinigami robes. At the same time, her dark tresses swept over her shoulder as his fingers combed her silky hair. Her deep violet eyes opened, shining as the moonlight rained down on them. Then suddenly, his hand cupped the back of her head, capturing her raven hair. He held her still but at the same time urged her to tilt her head upwards. His mouth hovered above her rosy lips, their breath mingling. "Ichigo," she whispered, her eyes caught in his intense hazel stare. A dark look crossed his face; a look resembling possession, screaming mine! It made her heart race. Finally, he pressed his lips to hers, taking her sweet mouth in a soft kiss. She could not fight him; her hands could not push his chest away to create a much needed distance. She could not do anything but kiss him back, opening her mouth wider. His tongue slipped in and the force of the kiss pushed her back a little. His other hand cupped her face to seize control as he grew more demanding. Her mind could not register how much time passed but she could feel his need mount, his greed climb and his gentleness slowly fade away. His lips drifted to her cheek then her earlobe, taking the flesh in his mouth. Before he returned to her lips, he whispered, "Berries." His tongue flicked her earlobe. "Strawberries." She tasted like strawberries, but sweeter. She was a shinigami, of course she tasted good. Her soul tasted good. This was an accident. His lips curved into the confident, arrogant smirk that she loved, but she would never tell him that. Her hands gripped onto his dark robes when he pushed her back again, sandwiching her between his lean body and the tree bark. Streams of white light beamed down through the pockets of the forest canopy around them. However, they had found a spot where only three trees existed in a radius wide enough to let the perfect moonlight bask their souls.

His name left her lips again as his kisses strayed to her slender throat. Eagerly, he bit down gently, sucking to leave a red lover's bite. Simultaneously she felt his hands open her robe, discarding the white sash around her waist. Her eyes fluttered open; she watched it dance in the wind before settling on the emerald grass. Her gaze was fixated on that spot as a sudden memory flashed in her mind. When her lips grazed his it was an accident. What they had been arguing about, she could not remember. Usually she started it. But that fight ended quickly when she realized he had been bleeding and almost collapsed on the spot where her white sash now laid. She caught him, effortlessly and her eyes became glossy with worry pounding at her heart. Her fingers had caressed his face - his handsome strong face - when she gazed down at him fondly. He insisted he could get up by himself, but she had still helped him and in the process their lips touched. They froze for a moment before he had stood straight up. They pretended it had not happened when she slid an arm under his to support him. But later, he revealed to her that ever since then the moment their lips met he could not shake the thought away. He tried to push it far from his mind, but it always resurfaced somehow. At first it came in his dreams at night, and then slowly it seeped into his thoughts during the day. The desire to kiss her grew and the simple act to taste her developed into fantasies. After the confession, he had dared to grab herkiss her, telling her, "This time, it wasn't an accident." It was wrong. "Rukia," he said, calling her back to his attention. Her eyes snapped to his and she watched the grin grow as he opened her robe. He pulled each flap slowly, as if opening a long awaited present. He took a step away and watched the moonlight play with the features of her body. Then the orange-haired man let go and the dark robes fell in a pool around her ankles. Without a word, her delicate hands touched the waistband and let the hakama fall to the ground. "Rukia," he murmured, truly appreciating the soft curves of her hips, her humble breasts, and her fair, polished skin. He only touched her again when she walked out of the pool; his fingers

caressing the softest skin he ever touched. They travelled from her flat stomach to the mound of her breast and when he squeezed gently a soft moan filled the crisp air. Neither understood it. Something ate at him. It was like a soft fire, if such thing existed, that flared down to his groin every time he thought about her. Her flesh. Her skin. Her small mouth. Her lips. Any fool would know it was desire, but the intensity made it burn. So then, was it lust? It was more than lust. He did not understand. He cared for her, yet he just wanted to devour her. Take her. Claim her. Make her truly his. Ichigo did not understand. He bent forward and kissed her again. He was more forceful this time, biting at her lower lip while his hands mapped the curves of her flesh. The purity of her soft, white skin thrilled him when his lips caressed her hand and arm. His wet tongue skimmed but stopped a few inches from her shoulder on her upper arm, licking and biting. Of course he did not understand. This was shinigami flesh. He was a shinigami as well, but there was a hollow inside of him. It was the hollow that was demanding, evil, and arrogant. Sometimes Ichigo could hear him whispering something about purity, shinigami, and flesh, not realizing that once a hollow has taste a shinigami, it consumes the monster, creating an addiction for more and more shinigami. Since he was not a full-fledged hollow, and since he was not a primitive monster, these urges were more controlled. However, that did not mean these primitive desires did not exist at all; it was still there is some form, lingering. The difference was: Hollows loved the blood of shinigami, they were easily addicted to eat the shinigami; Ichigo lusted and enjoyedmaking loveto her the shinigami. It was a primitive desire to want what was wrong

But if he loved her, what wrong about that? All thoughts were shoved aside when the wind bit his skin and her dainty hands roamed over his strong chest. A combination of coldness of the air and the heat from her hands created an interesting sensation. Her hands rubbed over his welltoned abs, and then played with the waistband of his shorts. Her fingers brushed over his hard rod through his black boxers and before she could disrobe him further, he grabbed her wrists roughly. Her eyes caught his in question. They asked him, "Do you want me?" He answered her wordlessly, "I want you." Their bodies melded as he wrapped an arm around her small waist, lifting her from the ground. Her right leg wrapped around his naked torso and at the same time his mouth covered her breast in hot, wet kisses. His other hand interlocked her fingers and she squeezed when he gently bit on her coral tip. A loud gasp filled the air, and her fingers grasped his wild hair tighter. Then a blatant offering was made when she arched her back and greedily he took her other breast between his lips. His name escaped her mouth in a sigh as she felt a heat grow in between her legs. She felt him walk to one of the rare trees in the immediate surrounding, pushing her up against the bark to kiss her again but roughly. His slender finger probed around her pink wet flesh, gently caressing and teasing, moving slightly in before flicking out. A primitive desire to want what tasted good Suddenly he stopped, which made her open her eyes to look at him. Without a sound, he settled her down to the ground with her bottom resting down in cool grass. Ichigo arranged her limbs in such a way that she was in the same seated position as when she first gave him her shinigami powers years and years ago. Her upper back leaned against the brown bark instead of the light pole on his street. One of her legs bent so the bottom of her foot was flat on the ground, while the other leg spread out away from her. She did not say anything but waited. Her shining eyes gazed up at him, at his almost naked body; her breath caught in her throat. She always marvelled at his body and now that he was older his muscles were slightly bigger and sculpted deliciously. He was beautiful. The orange-haired man kneeled down before her, and with one hand he pushed her raised knee to spread her legs further. His eyes never left her face until he began to explore her wet folds. At the same time, the arrogant smile Rukia knew well returned and she felt an anxious bead of sweat roll down her back.

The possessive look in Ichigo's eyes darkened further. Mine. This is the part where contains all the goodness and smut; follow the link, but delete neccessary spaces (there are 5): http:// www. fanlib. com/fanfic/ PrimitiveDesires/ 2efh2q To want He kissed her, tasting her sweet mouth. Their breath mingled again. Her forehead then rested on his chest after the explosions ended. Her small arms encircled his neck and carefully he switched spots with her. He sat against the tree and held her close to him, hugging her tightly. Her ear pressed into his chest, listening to the sound of his powerful heartbeats that soon calmed down. She smiled. The prominent smirk was there on his face. Yes, she tasted good. He remembered when he first told her that, and he laughed. "What?" she asked. "You still taste good." She nodded, understanding, and then looked up to his mature face. When her fingers caressed his chin, she could feel the soft stubble. "Are you okay?" He nodded. "I think I should be asking you that. I wasn't exactly gentle." His voice sounded tired but it held no regret. A shoulder lifted and then fell. "I'm fine." Her smile widened. "I am fine." It was her turn to laugh. His eyebrows furrowed and his smirk faltered. He waited for her to share the joke. "I am happy." Gently she kissed him again. "Who knew an idiot like you could do this to me?" Then a look passed on her face. A look of affection, devotion, loyalty and everything they had been through together was there and he understood her unspoken words. No matter what, she would always be there for him. In his raw, broken state to his most powerfulshe would always be with him.

Then Rukia stood up and before she turned to gather her shinigami robes, he grabbed her wrist and tugged hard enough to make her look down at him. Ichigo reasoned that the intense need for her was because he loved her. So he told her again, "I love you, Rukia." It took him a long time to realize this, due to his stubbornness or stupidity or both. The same could be said for her. She interlocked her fingers with his. "I know." The first time he told her, she was shocked, but she returned the words. "I love you too." She rationalized that the feelings that stirred deep in her soul were because of him because she needed him because she loved him too. Then a sudden breeze touched them and he stood up with her. "Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked, unable to peel her gaze away from him. He shook his head. "I don't know." "Idiot," she whispered softly, colliding into his chest again in a fierce hold. Deep down, inside of his tainted soul, he could feel the primitive desire to just take her without care. It bubbled there and he shut his eyes, thankful he was the King and the hollow was his horse, thankful that he truly cared about the woman in his arms, and thankful that she cared about him enough to walk beside him no matter what faced them. And as his hazel eyes gazed down at her, something dark slithered from the corner of his eyes once, before he forced it awayagain. Until another night. It was a desire, difficult to explain, difficult to articulateprimitive. End -