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Candlelight	By : Psychostance Category: Bleach > Het - Male/Female Views: 1463 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Bleach and all related characters are the property of Kubo Tite and I make no profit from the creation of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Candlelight
- 1
ï»¿This was written as a response to a prompt over at Kinky Bleach. The requester wanted some hot sex between Isshin and Masaki, showing a darker side of the woman. I was all too happy to oblige. It's been a while since I've written any kind of smut, so I just hope I'm not too rusty. Enjoy!
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She would never stop surprising him.
No matter how well Isshin thought he knew his beloved wife, she always managed to do something that made him stop in his tracks in awe of the woman. Whether it be something she said in response to one of his comments, or her cool-headed attitude in the face of his constant disappearances, he lived life on his toes.
He had learned to be ready for anything when it came to the woman, and so when she suddenly wrapped her smooth arms around him from behind while he was cleaning up after dinner, his body automatically tensed. He hardly had time to react to the bowl sliding between his soap-slicked fingers to crash to the floor as her warm body pressed into his back. His darling wife had slid her hands down to undo his belt with surprising speed, and immediately plunged one down the front to clasp her fingers around the erection she knew would be there.
He didn't bother trying to stop her. The last time he had done that, it had resulted in the emergence of a side he had never thought his wife possessed. Her swift fingers pressed against a long white scar on Isshin's inner thigh, a remnant from the first time she had done this, back when he would have stopped her. He thought not of her nails cutting into the old scar, of the pain that shot through his leg and groin as she did so. Nor did he give mind to how hard his erection had become at the action, at the soft fingers slowly stroking at his solid flesh. He focused instead on breathing.
Air in, hold, and out. So long as he focused on the singular action, of the simple, natural act, she would not become angry.
Intently had he blocked out the sensations outside of himself. So much so that he did not notice the beautiful Masaki slowly kneeling down to pick up one of the ceramic shards. A sharp, blooming sensation spread through his side as Masaki dragged the shard across his skin. Isshin gasped in pain, concentration broken.
â€œDarling, it isn't very polite to ignore your wife.â€�
He knew what she wanted. She wanted to draw every sound from him, every gasp and groan and growl she knew he was producing because of her. She tossed the shard away again, her fingers going to his side to stroke through the bloody trail as her tongue lightly touched the back of her husband's neck.
A harsh jolt jerked through his body as he felt her softly exhale against the moistened spot. He could protest no longer. He knew better than to resist the whims of his angel, and he had been rather rude to ignore her. He hung his head, breath escaping him in a light hiss as he conceded.
â€œI am sorry, my dear.â€�
She seemed satisfied at that, and a lovely smile graced her lips as she tugged on his arm, leading him to the table where the candles from their attempted romantic dinner still sat. The silent agreement was met with ferocity as Masaki unzipped his pants, easing his length from its confines and engulfing it in her wet, eager mouth. She was anything but gentle. She sucked hard and fast, teeth lightly grazing his length as one hand gripped his balls. He groaned loudly as she drew back with her lips wet.
Isshin let his head fall back. He had been so close, so painfully close. She had drawn back at the very last second, fully aware of how close he had been. She would not have it end there, so soon. That would not do at all. Isshin blinked in surprise as Masaki seemingly conjured a length of twine from nowhere. She said nothing as she loomed close to him. He knew what she intended to do.
He had been concerned for her, at first. The growing presence of their child, weighing heavily on Masaki's form, had made him infinitely concerned at first. But as she leaned over him, pressing him to the floor and kissing him gently and reminding him that the child within her was his, strong and robust, his concerns had lightened. Of course, the expertly-tied knots around his wrists, secure and inescapable, reminded him of that she knew exactly what she was doing.
She had bound him using two chairs, his legs spread wide and his arms stretched behind him, back flat against the cold kitchen floor. She had unbuttoned his shirt with as much accuracy as she had his belt, leaving Isshin's well-toned chest exposed to the air.
She straddled him and leaned in to kiss him deeply, her lips parting for his tongue to enter her mouth. A thin trail of saliva connected them as she drew away, the gentle smile he was so familiar with present on her face. Masaki's thighs clenched lightly at his sides, a hand moving up to trail softly through her husband's hair as she leaned in for another kiss. He had no choice but to oblige, being bound as he was. He devoured and allowed himself to be devoured, and he let out a yelp as something hot and runny hit his chest. He had not seen Masaki grasp for one of the lit candles on the table. The feverish need building inside of him was like a hunger, and he had been distracted from all else.
His side still bled, and with the stinging sensation that wept from his wound, the burn from the wax of the candle felt hotter.
He looked to his wife for reassurance, a serene smile on her face. She tilted the candle again, a rivulet of hot wax falling from the tip to land on Isshin's chest just below the previous splatter. She spread the wax with her fingertips, blowing cooling breaths across it to dry it into a hard coating. She was panting; Isshin could see the rise and fall of her breasts as she tore away the dried coating of wax and left a red welt across his chest. This went on for what felt like ages, and Isshin felt his cock twitch at every splatter of wax that touched his skin. He thought he would burst from it, groaning shamelessly as the heated liquid trickled down to his stomach before drying in the cold air.
Masaki gave a light laugh, her lips never giving up their smile as she used one hand to pump her husband's length, the other gripping the candle tightly. Each droplet was agony, a searing pain that was rewarded with hard strokes as he flexed his legs against the sensation. Isshin's body was wound tight, muscles pulled to their limits as Masaki finally sunk down onto his length.
Gods, he felt helpless. Masaki's pace was agonizingly slow.
Masaki, for her part, was experiencing complete and utter bliss. The heat of his shaft pulsed against her walls as she moved him in and out. She had taken him in all the way, the tip of his cock pressing into her cervix, and she moaned in delight at the contrasting sensations. She was not yet ready to reward her husband for behaving so nicely, for refraining from protesting her unusual use of candlelight. She took her time with him, savoring each grunt and moan. At last, he could no longer bear her frustrating pace. But he could do nothing to speed her up. He wanted her to take him deeper, harder, to feel her walls squeeze at him in desperation. Masaki's flushed face turned upwards so she could look him in the eye, and Isshin growled.
Her gut clenched in renewed, overpowering arousal at the sound. Throwing her head back and setting the burning candle aside, Masaki began to ride him in earnest. Isshin strained against the twine as he felt the head of his cock being squeezed between her walls, every thrust pulling him closer and closer to the edge. His wife wasn't faring too well either, her wanton cries mixing with his grunts of pleasure and the occasional guttural growl. She knew Isshin would not last long at this rate, and with a particularly deep thrust onto him, she felt him pulse and release deep inside of her. The heat and the sudden strange pressure of her husband's release sent her over the edge, and Masaki cried out his name as she joined him in oblivion.
For a little while, the only sounds in the room were those of Masaki and Isshin's soft panting as they came down from their respective highs. They lay there joined until their breathing had evened out and Isshin no longer felt the sting of the candle wax, pain long since forgotten. At last Masaki sat up and slid her husband's cock from her body. Fluid slid from the wet slit, but she paid it no mind. She was not finished yet. Though her eyes had teared up from the intense pleasure of her orgasm, and her skin was flushed in excitement, she was far from finished with Isshin. She reached for something on the table again, this time coming back with a long strip of dark cloth in her hands.
Obediently, he closed his eyes as she looped the ends around his face, obscuring his vision completely. She captured his lips again as she tied the ends together, and reached for the candle once more as she pulled away. He was helpless to prevent or encourage anything. Blinded as he was, every single sensation was more intense, though he could predict none of it. He couldn't see if Masaki was just teasing with the candle, or if she had positioned it over another area. He could only wait, trusting in his wife. The wax finally fell from the tip, joining the ever-growing splatter on Isshin's chest. He barely managed to stifle a groan as the molten droplet slid down the smooth, hardened coating left from the previous drippings. It moved dangerously close to his groin before the wax had spread too thin to continue, and the breath he'd been holding escaped him in a soft hiss.
His wife was smiling, he knew. The cloth prevented him from looking upon it himself, but he could feel it. He felt it in the way her thighs clenched around his waist just slightly. He heard it in the sound of her breaths growing shallower. He could sense it in the feeling of the cool air along his abdomen and groin as she shifted, blowing mercifully cooling wisps of air to soothe the ache she had created. Isshin's teeth chattered, though not from cold. His entire body was trembling as his lovely wife moved again, returning to her previous position atop his prone form. She laughed; a light, airy sound that momentarily distracted him from his predicament.
For a moment he was not bound and bleeding at the mercy of a woman with a devilish mind hidden beneath angelic features. He was sitting next to his wife at the dinner table, and her laughter had been at one of his stupid jokes... No, he reminded himself as the harsh, biting pain of molten wax stroked his skin once more. She would never stop surprising him.
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Candlelight