CITRUS GROVE
by SAGE, written in 2002
Disclaimer:
Rurouni Kenshin© is the exclusive property of Nobuhiro Watsuki and
associated
parties. The characters and/or story concept are used unofficially as an
expression of fan appreciation for the non-profit purpose of entertainment
only
and do not necessarily represent the viewpoint or opinions of the above
listed
entities. Original portions of this story are the copyright of the author.
This
is a fictional story and any similarity with person(s) living or dead is
entirely coincidental.
**********************************************************************************
L-E-M-O-N: sexual content/blatant erotica. (Just in case you missed the
summary)
**********************************************************************************
A Disturbing Grace
Citrus Grove Condominiums
Tokio tried to get up but he pushed her back down on the bed. A silken waterfall
of ink black hair spilled across one shoulder, the ends coming to rest against
her slim hip. She tried to curl up on her side to hide her nakedness; he
wouldn’t let her. His laugh was low and he was mildly amused by her attempts
to
deny him. He would be in control, he would make the decisions about what
was
shown, and he wanted to see everything.
One of his slim muscular legs forced an entrance between her knees, his
slender
strong hand caught the inside of her other knee in a firm grip and pulled
it
aside, exposing her to his heated gaze. Her muscles tensed, contracted,
but his
other leg replaced his calloused hand, forcing an even wider path when she
tried
to resist. The fine hair on his legs brushed across the smooth sensitive
inside
of her thighs, she shuddered; she felt so vulnerable. She shook her head
from
side to side, begging him silently to let her go, please just let her go.
Pleading eyes like deep midnight pools met the scorched heat of narrow
amber-gold. He negligently brushed his long loose hair out of eyes, a knowing
smirk played across his uncompromising face. His intent was her complete
surrender.
He leaned over her, placing a strong arm on either side, trapping her beneath
him. She put out her hands instinctively to his smooth chest to push him
back,
anxious to get up, get away. She didn’t want to be here with him. It had
to be
wrong. She didn’t want to feel what he made her feel. Heat curled low, she
felt
dampness between her legs, her hands involuntarily moved over the definitions
in
his chest seeking purchase. The skin of his chest was softer, slightly paler,
than the skin on his arms. She inadvertently brushed against the tiny dusk-pink
nipples. She heard a quick intake of breath. His eyes flared a hot look;
she
would have to pay for that unbidden reaction! His rough hands firmly grasped
her
wrists and pinned them back above her head. He let his head dip down next
to
hers. She felt the soft curtain of his hair caress her skin, felt his breath
across her shoulders, anticipation causing a sharp twinge of pleasure to
surge
within her breast. He took her earlobe in his hot wet mouth. Teeth closed
down
firmly on her flesh and he tugged downward with a low growl, inflicting
sweet
retribution! A soft whimper escaped her lips.
Restraining both her hands within a single strong grip, he let the rough
pads of
his fingertips stroke her slender white neck, grazing lightly across her
collar
bone and lighter still around the outside of her sensitive breast. She could
feel it swelling, seeking, and petitioning, to fill the palm of his hand.
He
brushed his fingers around the fullness of her breast again, not seeking
to
touch her nipple though it sat up and begged on its own, not giving her
the
satisfaction of that pleasure point but torturing her with his closeness,
with
the promise. Her shoulders tossed and turned. His hot eyes followed trailing
fingers down her slim waist and across the indentation of her hipbone, taking
seductive inventory of his possession. He moved his hand still further down,
allowing his fingertips to graze across her completely smooth-skinned mound
to
disappear within the silken pink folds of her center. Her body betrayed
her! Her
hips jerked against his questing fingers accompanied by a high soft cry
from her
lips! His fingers stroked back and forth, his thumb rubbing softly over
the
erect pearl of her clitoris. She cast her face to the side and gave a soft
ragged scream into the bedspread, her breathing rapid and shallow.
His self-satisfied smile widened, and he continued the stroking pressure
of his
fingers, gently increasing the tempo, and his tongue flicked across one
of her
rigid nipples, already rucked with desire, the very tips hard little roseate
pebbles. She arched against his mouth. She wanted his heat on her; she was
beyond caring, beyond thinking of anything other than her overwhelming need
for
him, for the satisfaction only he could give her. His mouth encompassed
the
whole aureole and he sucked hard. She came up off the bed! Desire spiraled
thru
her breast. He let her softly tortured flesh go with a smack, and she fell
back
against the bed panting. Not content to allow her to rest he dipped one
then two
of his fingers directly up into her wet center. She buried her face against
his
neck and cried against the pleasure of this sweet intrusion, her body starting
to buck violently against his hand.
He withdrew his hand and she cried out loudly against the loss, tossing
her head
back and thrusting demandingly. He had brought her to this and she wanted
it
now! He brought his hand down in a stinging slap against the outside of
her
buttocks, his amber-fire eyes declaring his control, his dominance in their
mating. Roughly grabbing her hip, forcing her to stillness, she trembled
uncontrollably. At her center was a hot pulsing hunger so great she thought
she
would cease to exist if he didn’t touch her! He took his hard alabaster
cock in
hand and directed the large blush-red head to cradle within her soft outer
petals. She made a sharp cry against his shoulder, forcing herself to keep
still
least he should withdraw; she shook with need, her thighs clenching
spasmodically against his flanks, she had to have him! He slid his stiffened
hardness slowly up and across her swollen clitoris, a throbbing, velvet
skinned
replacement for his masturbating hand, which now firmly grasped her hip
again
letting her seek no redress for the aching swollen desire building between
her
legs. He moved a little faster and harder and she tossed her head back and
forth
against the bed. He increased the tempo again, and her breath was coming
in
harsh measured little bursts, every one accompanied by a sweet cry. Her
arms
fought against the bond of his hand, the barrier to her touching him, but
his
hold was sure. She drew up her slim legs, feet arched and toes pointed in
ecstasy, she was desire itself. He was rapidly sliding against her, his
own
breath sounding ragged, the center of her desire starting to flare white
hot…she
was so close…
“Please, oh, oh, Hajime please…oh, yes, oh, yes. Hajime! OH…OH…OH…OH…OH…
someone was banging on her apartment door.
Tokio opened her eyes. Blankets were strewn on the floor. One hand rested
on a
puckered nipple, the other was between her tightly closed legs, squeezing
gently
against her center, and someone was pounding on her door, the sound of which
she
had simply woven into her dream.
She struggled up out of bed and walked into the living room. She was planning
on
looking though the door viewer but thankfully was still some feet away from
the
entry when the door exploded inward. She was too shocked to scream.
***
Early in the morning a fairly strong earthquake rocked the area. Hajime
didn’t
bother making the pointless effort to stand up; he simply rolled off his
futon
and beneath a low table. After the shaking had stopped he pulled on a pair
of
sweatpants and slipped on some loafers before opening his apartment door.
People
were already in the hall.
“Wow, did you feel that?” said a young man from his doorway. Long tan legs
topped by short cut off jeans his only attire. His hand rubbed against his
smooth naked chest in the attempt to warm some skin in the coolness of the
hallway, his shorter black hair spiked in all directions. Hajime knew this
was
the way it usually looked.
Hajime gave him a sarcastic look, “No, I just like standing out in the hallway
first thing in the morning. Is everyone okay in there?” Hajime indicated
the
guy’s apartment. Just then another man appeared behind the first. Also young
but
with a polished maturity, he had taken time to pull on both sweatpants and
a
t-shirt, as well as a pair of shoes. His hand went to the bare waist of
the
first in an intimate caressing gesture, “Sano,” he said, and then whispered
something quietly in his ear and pointed to the floor, followed by a gentle
kiss
to his neck.
“Oh yeah, shoes, good idea,” said the first, and he disappeared back into
the
apartment.
“Hajime,” greeted the other coming out into the hall, his dark brown hair
carelessly falling over his eyes. These two had obviously been asleep when
the
trembler had struck.
“Aoshi,” Hajime acknowledged with a nod.
“Is everyone all right?” said Aoshi.
Hajime looked around and saw the little redheaded landlord, Kenshin, holding
his
neighbor’s trembling hand. A dark haired young woman named Kaoru. She had
a
hastily wrapped bathrobe on and looked pretty upset. Everyone seemed to
be in
the hallway talking about the quake, everyone but her.
He went to her door and knocked loudly…nothing. He banged on the door, “Tokio!”
Nothing.
Kenshin had come up behind him and said with concern, “I’ll go get my master
key.”
Images of Tokio lying bleeding in the floor needing help filled his mind,
“I’m
not waiting that long,” and he stood back. Quickly concentrating on placing
a
pounding hard kick next to the door handle, splinters flew and the door
ripped
inward and tore off the hinges. Stepping quickly into the apartment, nothing
had
prepared him for the sight before his eyes.
Tokio had obviously just woken up. She was standing there in shock, a hand
covering her mouth. He looked at her, at her small-sculpted feet, her long
legs, and her slim body wearing a tiny nightgown of transparent pink silk
that
barely reached the top of her thighs. He could just make out a matching
triangle
of fabric beneath. Her tousled raven hair cascaded behind her and licked
at her
hips. There wasn’t a tweed in sight. She was a goddess!
His body moved forward of its own accord. Against all rational, he stood
right
before her and reached out his hand to touch her hip, to pull her to him,
he
wanted to feel her safe against him.
Tokio hadn’t moved; she couldn’t. The situation was almost too surreal.
She
tried to convince herself that the man in her erotic dreams was a faceless
partner of passion, an anima, the perfect man of her imagination, but this
time
she knew it wasn’t true. It was his chiseled face, his long dark silken
hair.
It was his lean strong body and eyes of volcanic fire that set her ablaze
each
night, and now that she had been woken up in the middle of the dream she
knew it
was his name that she cried when trying to find her release. He was standing
before her, reaching for her, and she could no more deny him now than she
had in
the dream.
“Hajime,” Kenshin said sharply cutting through his trance.
Tokio thought she heard a growl. Now that the moment was broken she said
in
amazement, “Why did you break down my door?”
Looking at her he said, “Why didn’t you answer the door?”
She blushed furiously, “I was asleep.”
He raised a brow; there was something more to that and he could guess what
it
was. “Oh little Goddess,” Hajime thought, ”the walls between us are thin,
and
I’ve been witness to your desire. I might be able to dismiss it if it weren’t
my
name on your lips,” but keeping that to himself he said instead, “You slept
through that earthquake?”
She looked confused, “What earthquake?”
He smirked indulgently, “Go get dressed.”
Tokio looked at him, “…but the door…”
That sweet little outfit was driving him crazy, “Kenshin and I will replace
the
door. Go on,” he said, turning her around and gently shoving her toward
the
bathroom door, “before he gets any ideas.”
Kenshin blushed brighter than his hair, “Oro?”
***
Kenshin and Hajime had picked up another door, handle, and replacement wood
for
the doorjamb from the hardware store just down the street. They were just
getting the handle in place, when Hajime heard a noise and looked up. Tokio
had
decided to make a dash for her room from the bathroom. He smiled. She certainly
seemed determined to try his patience.
A few minutes later Kenshin said, “Well, that’s it.” Standing up and brushing
off some sawdust, he laid a split ring down on the breakfast bar. It had
two
keys on it. “I better go see how Kaoru is doing,” he said, thinking of the
pretty dark haired girl. Kenshin thought Kaoru was a beautiful, brave girl,
but
the earthquake had really gotten to her. He decided that he would have to
make
her dinner.
“When are you going to cut that girl some slack, Himura?” said Hajime
contemptuously.
“I don’t think it’s any of your concern,” the smaller man’s eyes flashed
hot
violet
Hajime shrugged and thought, “Maybe, maybe not.” He let the subject drop
for now
and Kenshin left.
A little more time had passed and finally Tokio had come out of her bedroom.
She
wasn’t wearing tweed but a conservative gray skirt, white button down shirt,
and
a silk neck scarf. Hajime felt an overwhelming need to strip it all off
and use
the scarf on her!
Tokio looked around and was amazed that the books that had been tossed off
her
upper shelves by the shaking had all been put back. She knew they would
be out
of order but she thought it was a kind thought nonetheless and she wasn’t
use to
thinking of the word “kind” with her neighbor.
“I’ll be leaving now,” he said, and then he took her chin in his hand and
tilted
her head up.
“Oh my, he’s going to kiss me,” she thought wildly.
“Your new key is on the counter,” he said, purposely keeping the conversation
mundane as he ran his lips across hers and then parted her lips with his
tongue.
He explored her sweetness, pulled on her passionate innocence, a hot
soul-stealing kiss that branded her. He let go of her lips reluctantly,
“I’ll
see you tonight.”
“To…tonight?” she said somewhat dazed.
He smiled as he walked to the door and threw back over his shoulder, “The
home-owners meeting,” he reminded her, and then he was gone.
“The home-owners meeting,” she said dimly to the empty apartment. Her eyes
snapped wide. She had forgotten all about it this morning! She was prepared
of
course, but it was going to be a long day. The Library was probably a mess.
“Right, I guess I better get moving,” she thought as she picked up the split
ring on the counter with its single key. Grabbing her purse she was out
the
door. Fortunately the library was just across the street, her main reason
for
buying into this condo.
***
Hajime sat on his bed and slouched against the wall, it felt blissfully
cool to
his naked skin, and so did his cold damp hair lying flat against his neck
and
shoulders. He would dry it and put it up in a high ponytail but for now
it felt
good helping to cool the hot blood pulsing through his neck. He had watched
her
walk to work from his balcony, and then headed for a cold shower before
getting
ready for work. It hadn’t done much good.
His own body was still taunt with desire; for the last three days he had
listened to her night after night try to find satisfaction in her sleep.
He
heard his name being called out. He smiled wickedly. She wouldn’t find
release
that easy. So she wasn’t as uptight as he originally thought, he still believed
that she was too inhibited to give herself satisfaction through touch, but
that
could be changed.
He wanted to be the one to lead her to pleasure. He felt an unreal rush
of
desire. His own rigid hard-on made a curve against his belly in a throbbing
arch. He was tempted to run his hands over the shaft and seek his own release,
but tonight was the get together in her apartment. He wanted to make sure
that
she could sense his sexual awareness of her. This seduction was played
in the
mind as much as the body and he would need every advantage.
And speaking of advantages, he hadn’t been able to stop being a detective.
Like
any avid book lover, she had remarkably diverse tastes in reading material.
Almost every section of a library was represented on her shelves, all but
two
glaring omissions. That needed looking into he thought.
***
The Guilty Party (author’s notes)
Well, well, well, things did get a bit warm in the beginning. Break out
the
lemonade, add sugar. The game is afoot. He haunts her dreams, she teases
his
waking moments and presents a challenge he has gladly accepted, but what
is she
hiding? Like her clothing, there are shocking discoveries to be made about
them
both.
We had a hint of Yaoi. That will be explored more, um… widely later.
We even glimpse, briefly, the perennial favorite couple. I’m saving them
for
last.
Thank you very much for the encouraging reviews!
(PS: so I just found out where the word “lemon” comes from, supposedly the
anime
“Crème Lemon” (which makes sense). Now I find that funny because
I had been
thinking of the Led Zeppelin “The Lemon Song”, the lyrics of which would
have
also been wholly appropriate:
Squeeze me baby, till the juice runs down my leg;
The way you squeeze my lemon,
I..I'm gonna fall right out of bed
Well, doesn’t it? <LOL>)
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