Rain pelted the ground as Misao walked by abandoned buildings on her way home, back to the Aoiya. A cloak masked her thoughtful face and her dry clothing as she walked through the deserted street. She’d been placed on an errand by Okina and had been running late to come home as she gotten stuck talking to the local girls. They’d persuaded her into a little coffee house and chatted quietly away about this and that, mainly men and how they drove them crazy. Many of the women Misao was associated with outside of the Aoiya were married now, but of course Misao was Misao and was still very much single even at the age of 20. She was an old maid now, but that didn’t bother her like it bothered the two single women she sat next too both in there mid twenties. Misao would listen to their woes on not enough romantic moments with their respected partners and yet she didn’t speak about her own problems. Instead Misao would quietly sit there and listen to what they said. She nodded every now and then about men being stubborn and women practically needed to be mind readers to find out what they were talking about, but most of the time at these little "functions" Misao would tune out.

‘What would they know about rejection. At least there partners actually converse with them on a daily basis’.

Misao would always think that, but of course when attention was turned to her with women asking ‘So how’s that man doing in your life Misao-san?’ she’d place on a fake smile and tell them he was either visiting people in Edo or busy with work. It was never anything different and so the conversation would switch to one of the other women thankfully. She just didn’t wish to bring up anything about her and Aoshi’s bizarre relationship.

Shaking her head from those thoughts, Misao picked up her pace when the rain fell heavier on her cloaked form.

It was no lie that Misao knew the craziness of men, one in particular for sure. She’d been around many young men, even shared a few kisses and caresses with a couple, but no one would steal her heart like Shinomori Aoshi, former Okashira of the Oniwabanshuu had. There had been a time when Misao had gotten carried away after several sake and was about to be ‘deflowered’ when she’d been caught and unfortunately for her by Aoshi himself. It was in the most unromantic place ever, around the back of the bath house. Misao hadn’t a clue how it all started and was mortified that Aoshi did nothing but stand there, dressed in yukata, it gapping at he front like usual and gazed quietly at the half naked young man lapping at her neck.

‘Play time is over.’

Those were very unemotional and yet slightly stern words from Aoshi. Misao felt a rush of heat grace her cheeks that evening which wasn’t the sake as she pulled her own yukata quickly closed and rushed to his side, jumbled words trying to make excuses. Alcohol at this point and time not in her system anymore, but Aoshi was gazing at the staggering young man. With the thirty-second staring competition between Aoshi and the unknown male (since Misao to this day couldn’t remember his name) Aoshi had won and the poor guy went running into the forest never to return back to the Aoiya again.

Were the last words spoken before Aoshi parted ways with her, heading back into the lively Aoiya and upstairs to his own quarters to block everything out once more.

After all the efforts of trying to catch Aoshi’s attention dressing femininely in kimono and thin yukata it was nothing but a failure and so Misao drowned herself in sake and that is when Aoshi found her more naked then he’d ever seen her before.

Misao had never been too sure if Aoshi knew she was pining away for his love and affection and when the last straw was dealt of him not coming with her to one of the many festivals in Kyoto, she knew it was time to move on. Instead of moving on she ended up moving back to the way she used to be and went back to her long plaited hair and dressed in her onmitsu outfit. She knew young men gazed heatedly upon her shapely pale legs, but did not care.

These days, after many years of training and blossoming into her body, Misao was not ashamed of it anymore and in fact felt quite compelled to hide her curves under thick layers of dark ninja clothing much like Aoshi used to wear when he was 15 years old. Even in the summer months, when everything was hot, sticky and humid, Misao would continue to train morning, noon and/or night and would secretly cool off down by the lake where no one knew she went to.

Almost no one…

A gasp escaped Misao’s lips when arms wrapped fluently around her body and pulled her into an abandoned home which was mostly ridden with a caved in roof and fallen walls as a fire had sprung out though it. Trying to flee from the strong arms around her, since one was over her mouth, while the other held her against a taint body, Misao grunted when she was pushed into the frail soot ridden wall before her squinted eyes.

"All that training and you still do not detect me. That is quite pathetic Misao." Her eyes grew wide at the feral voice right at her ear as the arms slowly moved from her mouth and waist to turn her around, now deciding to pin her back against the frail wall.

"A-Ao-" Two fingers were poised at her pink lips, stopping her from voicing his name.

"Do not speak." He commanded, as fingers were replaced with dry lips that contained the hint of bitter tea as it assaulted her tastebuds. It seemed her "attacker" had finished at the temple and obviously had come looking for her for this ‘special’ purpose of attacking her and resuming the fires of passion from the last time they had suddenly met like this.

"Only feel what I do to you." Came the husky voice before a perfect tongue lapped at her ear lobe, teeth crazing against fleshy skin as Misao was pinned against the rickety wooden wall. Her eyes were wide open; gazing about the place as he’d chosen a secluded area where no one could see through the broken walls, not that people would walk down this deserted street anyway. Misao tried desperately to stare into the icy green-grey colour of his orbs, wanting once more to loose herself within the spookiness that plagued them.

"Oh…Aoshi-sama… Please…I…" Lips took hers again before Misao could voice anything else. Her mind was jumbled as always when she was placed in such a situation with him. To think she deceived all around her, just like he did into thinking there was nothing between them, but that didn’t mean this "random fucking" could actually be called a relationship.

"Do not murmur…" Another command of his was muttered against swollen lips that belonged to him now. Everything he did to Misao, Aoshi knew it was only a matter of time, perhaps seconds and not hours and minutes like earlier on in this naughty game he played with her, before she was putty within his hands. She was nothing but over sensitive nerves, her firm body growing slack against his hard self and he observed as ocean orbs finally fluttered closed.

"Only moan for more…" A soft moan escaped Misao’s lips, betraying the slight fear she felt for the tall man who was invading her senses and turning them into a raging inferno. This wasn’t the first time this had happened and Misao was mentally smacking herself for not thinking about it earlier on. These initiations (which seemed like rituals) always occurred on rainy bleak days, just like today. Still though, even if all her senses pounded with the slow agonizing wait of Aoshi’s hot thick cock smoothly and hotly entering her, there was still the fear within her heart, telling her to break away because this "fucking" meant nothing to him.

His lips were trailing down her neck, Misao’s mind and body succumbing to him even more as her cloak was pulled away, falling softly to the black soot ground. Wood creaked and groaned around them, almost as though the house would fall any second and yet Misao’s hands decided to not care about that moment and instantly racked through sopping wet strands of hair. Aoshi’s hands were all over her body, groping her perky butt before unclasping her thick attire as heat began to build once more.

"When your moans become hoarse…" It was the same words he spoke to her all the time, everytime this occurred and Misao could never get enough of the gruffness, the trueness within them. Cotton was pulled from her heaving chest leaving her breasts pound in bandage straps while clothing fell carelessly to the floor like her cloak. They would be covered in black soot, but Misao continued to groan at the ministrations being attended to her and knew no more thoughts except the feel of binding being ripped from her breasts and a tongue scrapped over a hardened nipple.

"And they will when I’m through with you." Guttural groans filled the empty house as Misao was plagued with chilled fingers scrapping her skin, scorching the pale colour to a fine pink hue. Aoshi was branding her as his, reminding her mentally and physically that no one could ever take her from his powerful clutches. Misao was trapped and she didn’t know how to free herself. She grew hot just thinking about what was coming and hands were aimlessly flicking clumps of hair, not truly knowing what to do in this situation and yet waiting impatiently for what was to come. Aoshi moved his mouth from Misao’s sore breasts, they having been nibbled too much and clothes were rustling in the quiet of the evening as he kneeled to the creaking floorboards, tongue creating patterns against the flat expanse of Misao’s abdomen.

"Beg for more Misao…" Pleasure gasps escaped her lips as trousers were freed from her narrow hips, being pulled effortlessly to her ankles while firm hands spread her thighs, opening her wet centre to the mouth currently situated right there. If it weren’t for the hands holding her by her firm derriere Misao would have collapsed to the floor as Aoshi sucked and nibbled at her hot core. She continuously moaned his name, begging him with gasps and groans to stop playing with her and yet he was turning a deaf ear to it. He played, plucked, lapped and tortured her very centre until it was throbbing and wet with her juices, begging silently for something hotter and thicker to move within her.

As the tongue she’d become so used to plummeting into her mouth or womanhood continued to work over her nub, two fingers mercilessly brought her to a sudden climax, making Misao scream in pleasure and pain at the harshness of the pounding thrusts. As usual, the night was far from over as Misao felt her essence trickle down the inside of her thigh. She gazed with hazy passion in her ocean blue pools down at Aoshi, observing him as he rose to his feet, hands stroking her hips as his mouth spoke several more words before devouring hers again.

"I can give you more." Fluid movements, experienced motions had Misao braced against the wall, hands on her buttocks again ad feet off the ground and latched around Aoshi’s waist. Pleasurable sighs mixed into his hot mouth as his rock hard cock rubbed against her dampness. Much to Misao’s dismay Aoshi never did enter her and instead torturedly rubbed up and down, milking his manhood until it was slick with her essence.

"I can give you anything." Words that Misao knew were untrue as she clutched Aoshi’s sides with her quivering thighs as he slowly inched within her, the both of them savouring the way her walls adjusted just for him. Once inside Aoshi’s hands remained at Misao’s fleshy buttocks, keeping her firmly in place as he teased her with slow sensual thrusts. The moment would soon come when she’d be screaming his name, endlessly milking him over and over again just like it was there first time.

Aoshi rocked faster, harder into Misao, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he gazed down at Misao’s flushed face, listening intently to her purrs and moans, knowing she wanted this more and more each passing rainy day. His strokes grew long and thick, fast and short, a mixture of pleasure and pain, something Aoshi knew he was. He could never get enough and yet he could never go any further. He was the whipped dog and Misao had become his bitch, always succumbing to his rawness, to his desire, to his male instincts to fuck a woman senseless so he wouldn’t have to think and Misao had become that very woman. A dog always returned to what he had marked and so Aoshi always returned to Misao.

It wasn’t long before he felt Misao’s walls clamp around him, her thighs clenching around his hips and nails indenting marks into his clothed shoulders. She was so close as he drove inch by inch, agonisingly back into her warm wet folds. She was his dirty pleasure to do with as he pleased, knowing she would never tell a soul.

"Anything but love…" Orgasms mixed as one, fluids exchanging as Aoshi bit into Misao’s shoulder, drawing blood while Misao shouted to the open night sky, tears springing within her eyes at those words. Each time this happened she would cry, knowing those words were always the last to be spoken and yet each time they were spoken (like a ritual again) Misao would never get used to them. Misao was being used all the time and yet she knew this. She was nothing but a fuck for him, Misao knew this too and yet she couldn’t deny the man panting at her neck anything. Every single second Misao spent with Aoshi she loved. She enjoyed being slammed to the ground or being pushed up against a wall to be taken by him, as long as it was him. She’d given into him months ago and there was nothing she could do about it. Misao loved him that much to continuously be at his mercy.

Heartbeats slowed, breaths came under control and Aoshi’s tongue soothed the injury at Misao’s shoulder, but never the one in her heart. He soon pulled away from her supple intoxicating skin, his temple crazing her cheek, knowing for a fact Misao had been crying silently this time, her teeth dug into her bottom lip keeping the sob at bay. She didn’t know if he knew she cried everytime, but this time he knew for sure. For a single fleeting moment he froze against her cheek, as though trying to assess what to do, but it wasn’t long before he was out of her warm wet folds. Aoshi silently placed himself back into his purple pants and drew his trench coat back over his clothing, the collar high on his neck hiding quite a bit of his face from view.

Without a word he left the abandoned building, leaving Misao crumpled on the floor, wet and dirty and crying tears of sadness as he walked away from her yet again and back into the pitter-patter of raindrops as though nothing had every happened.

Misao had Aoshi during rainy days. Aoshi always had her. Throughout all of this, Misao could never have everything she wanted because Aoshi would give her anything but love and that one thing is solely what she desired from him.

There in the damp abandoned house she remained. Extremely sore, sweaty, sticky and Aoshi scented and very, very heartbroken, like all the other times this happened. It was for Misao, her usual rainy day affair.

Xx The End xX

Author Notes: Well fuck… That was a dark lemon by me if I didn’t know any better. Definitely gone off the beaten track of my usual mushiness. Tell me what you think Minna-san. Totally blows? Prefer lovable Aoshi-sama to bastardly Aoshi-sama? Let me know your thoughts okay? ^_^;;