#ukitake

Once inside the house, Ukitake closes the umbrella and leaves it on the porch before sliding the door closed with a sigh of relief. Both of you are dripping, a small puddle of water forming on the wooden floor of your living room. Ukitake tsks as he looks at you, nurturing instincts kicking in.

“You’re soaking wet, my dear,” he remarks as he appraises you. “Were you trying to stay under the umbrella at all?”

“I keep telling you we need a bigger one.” You reply gaily, though your teeth are chattering from the chill of your clothes. Ukitake frowns. 

“Let me get a towel.”

He’s about to walk into the kitchen when you grab his sleeve. “You’re going to get water everywhere,” you point out, and he hums thoughtfully. 

“Hmm…You have a point. So what do you propose we do about that?” 

Such simple words, but when spoken by him in that deep, low purr, your body becomes alert, suddenly aware of his every move. His hand reaches out to sweep away some of the wet hair sticking to your shoulder, and you shiver, not entirely from the cold. 

“Well?” He prompts, closing the distance between you both, his arms snaking around your waist to draw you against him. A crimson blush immediately stains your face, elevating when he nuzzles into the crook of your neck. You breathe sharply at the contact, helpless to move away from him. 

“My dear, if the plan is to stand there while you continue to redden like a rose, then I fear we’ll both catch a cold.” Ukitake teases you, amused by how easily you melt into his arms, at the little sigh that falls from your lips as he holds you close. 

His words have the desired effect, and you’re goaded into action, despite feeling like all your extremities had grown clumsy. Feeling like your fingers were wrapped up in mittens, you reach to push hair away from his pale face, trying not to shy away from the intensity in his green eyes as he observes you, waiting keenly for your next move. 

“I suppose…we could…discard our clothes here…” you murmur, and his eyes darken at the thought. 

“Is that so? Are there no other solutions?” His mouth starts to string little kisses along the column of your neck, licking raindrops off your skin, which has started to heat up from his touch. Delightful, liquidy pulls begin in your stomach as he kisses you, and you clear your throat before speaking. 

“None,” you affirm, earning you a look of approval. 

“The lady has deemed it so. Perhaps she should take the initiative?”

You glance up and he’s smirking at you, eyebrows raised in a gesture of playful challenge. Unwilling to give him the satisfaction, you train your eyes on the V where the fabric of his yukata meets, hiding the creamy skin and lean muscles you knew lay beneath. Forcing your hands to remain steady, you grasp the obi and pull, watching it loosen inch by tantalizing inch as it falls apart.

Ukitake watches with patience, but his blood is running hot at the act, something he considers to be incredibly intimate and deeply personal.  Coupled with the obvious hesitation and bashfulness, he couldn’t help but wonder how a man was supposed to stay calm when presented with such temptation. 

With a soft slither, the obi falls to the floor, and his yukata begins to separate at the waist. You carefully hook your fingertips into the separation and pull it apart, heartbeat quickening as you see the thin layers he wore underneath it, tiptoeing to push the wet garment off his broad shoulders. It lands with a splat, and you work on the under-layers, not daring to look at his face and stumble.

When all that’s left is his underwear, your hands stall, and Ukitake takes them in his, bringing them to his hands for a kiss. 

“I think that’s enough hmm?” He pulls away and pads into the kitchen to retrieve a fresh towel, and you’re left standing, fully clothed, and unable to suppress the rising heat in your belly. He had done nothing this entire time, letting you go at your own pace, but the whole thing has made you hot and flushed, your mind filled with wicked possibilities. 

You nearly jump when you hear his return, eyes unable to stop themselves from taking in his graceful form, tall and leanly muscled, his long, white hair flowing down his back. Was this man really yours?

His eyes glitter playfully, but there’s a tender quality to them that makes you yearn; to feel his hands on your breasts, between your legs, with his mouth everywhere else. 

“Turn around,” he says softly, and when you do, he begins to dry your pretty locks, the touch electrifying. Was he doing this on purpose? Was he aware of your body’s reaction to him? How it tingled with every innocent movement, how it trembled each time his naked body brushed against the back of your clothes? You glance down and feel a zing of embarrassment as you see how your nipples have pebbled, not entirely from the cold. He would have seen them, of course. Grateful that your back is turned, you fix your gaze on the little bonsai pots sitting on the window ledge, rushes of heat running through you as Ukitake works on the lower lengths of your hair. 

“You must be cold, my love,” he says softly, and your heart jolts. He’s waiting for an answer, and you know it. You pivot slowly in his arms until you’re facing him, and take the towel from his hands.

“Maybe we should switch roles?” You ask and start to work on his scalp. A chuckle emanates deep within his chest, and you gather the courage to move closer.

“I think that’s a fantastic idea.” As you busy yourself with his hair, his hands start to undress you. You tremble as each layer is removed, until you stand in nothing but your panties. His warm palms rest at your waist, the slight touch tickling you as you focus on his hair. You’re close enough to press a kiss to his neck, but Ukitake is quicker with his actions.

 You resist the urge to jump as he cups your breasts, giving the soft flesh a little squeeze, groaning as he feels your perked nipples against his palms. You let the towel rest around his shoulders, and finally give in, letting your mouth find his.

The quiet pitter-patter of raindrops can be heard on the roof as you kiss, tasting tea on his lips, his scent comforting and familiar as you angle your head, sampling as much of him as possible. His thumbs start to work little circles on the very tips of your hardened nipples, you little whimpers of pleasure swallowed by his mouth. When his tongue brushes yours, you draw closer to him, arms tightening around his neck.

“Was this the plan all along?” he asks pokingly as you break apart, your nipples aching with desire. Chuckling at the hazy look in your eyes, Ukitake scoops you up in his arms and carries you into the bedroom. The bed was warm and inviting, a pleasant change from the chill of the living room. His body covers yours, as he places open-mouthed kisses on your neck and between your breasts before finally drawing one of your swollen nipples into his mouth.

You cry out at the soft pull, at the drag of his teeth on the sensitive bud as his hand dips underneath your panties, a pleased noise of approval escaping his throat when he finds you wet and swollen. 

You’re helpless, unwilling to move away, legs spreading unashamedly as his thumb starts to circle your clit, while two of his long, slim fingers enter your sex. The stretch has your mind melting, becoming a pool of lust as he strokes that sensitive area of nerves deep within, as his thumb stimulates you on the outside. Your nipples are covered with his saliva as he takes turns alternating between them, your sweet cries of passionate struggle music to his ears.

When you orgasm, it feels like the world was falling apart, nothing existing except your own pleasure and Ukitake’s skilled fingers as he pulls every last drop of delight from your body. Panting, you lie comfortably on the bed, snuggling into his body as Ukitake licks his fingers clean, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes.

The sight of you on his bed like this, naked and wanting, skin glowing from your post orgasmic glow was only turning him on even more; he wants to mark you, wreck you, until he’s all you know. As he strips off his underwear, you can’t help but stare at him, at the length and veins, even though you’d seen it all before. Your core flutters impatiently at the sight, and your mind wants to beg for him to fill you, to claim you primally. 

Tenderly, Ukitake kisses your forehead and cheeks, watching your face for signs of hesitation, but you only grip his shoulders in response, and he shivers as he starts pushing into you. Your body stretches around him, mewling and leaving half moon impressions in his back as your nails bite into him. The soft, velvety heat of your sex was addictive, enveloping his cock as he sheathes himself to the hilt. You moan and wrap your legs around him invitingly, and that’s all he needs before he starts to thrust, the slap of skin on skin filling the room.