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Sepsis	By : ladysanzennine Category: Final Fantasy VII > Het - Male/Female > Sephiroth/Aerith Views: 2066 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Don't own ff7. Don't make money off it.

Chapter List
- 1-1
- 2-2
- 3-3
- 4-4
- 5-5
- 6-6
- 7-7
- 8-8
- 9-9
- 10-10
- 11-11
- 12-12
- 13-13
- 14-14
- 9
- 10
- 11
Sepsis
Chapter 10
By Lyralina Sanzennine
Disclaimer: Final Fantasy 7 is property of Square Enix.

Sephiroth threw Aeris against the wall then moved with lightning-fast speed to pin her against it before she could slide down and collapse. His eyes glowed with tainted mako light just inches away from her face.
He was livid and Aeris was suddenly very, very scared.
“What. Happened. Last. Night?” He bit out. He struggled to control his flaring temper. All he had to do was move his hands, just slightly, to wrap them around her neck and end it all right there. He gritted his teeth against the urge and pushed down his black fury. Killing her now would render all the efforts of the past week useless.
She struggled to find her voice, knowing that he would not take it kindly if he thought she was keeping something from him. Bravely, she steadied herself and replied, “What do you mean?”
He narrowed his eyes at her and snarled. “Woman, you know very well what I am talking about!”
Aeris shook her head with quick, jerky motions. She was trembling in his grasp. His fingers at her shoulders tightened, causing her to cry out, more in surprise and terror than actual pain. “No, I don’t! I mean, I can’t,” she told him, stumbling over her words. “How would I know what happened to you?”
Sephiroth’s eyes drifted down from her face to sweep over the length of the rest of her body. She stood without a stitch of clothing on; the sheet she’d wrapped herself in had fallen to the floor when he’d thrown her.
He’d woken that morning slowly and comfortably, stretching like a cat before his senses managed to return to him. It was the first time he’d slept in who knows how long. That was unsettling in and of itself, but to come to consciousness as he’d done was ludicrous. Even in the days prior to his first death, rigorous military training has conditioned him to be able to wake within seconds, and without a hint of disorientation. Leisurely mornings were for weak human creatures, not the likes of him.
When he’d opened his eyes, he'd immediately noticed the sleeping woman wrapped in his arms. She was exhausted, with dark smudges beneath her closed eyes, locked in a deep and peaceful slumber. Her head was pillowed on his arm and her legs were still entangled with his. With her rich auburn mane fanned out behind her and the warm glow of the dying fire on her too-pale skin, she looked perfectly vulnerable.
He’d wanted to taste her again and with that thought, all the memories and experiences of the previous night flooded him. It had been too much – too abnormal and inexplicable, so he’d quickly extricated himself from her and fled. Fled.
She’d stirred slightly, but slept on.
Hours later he’d returned, composed but not calm. He’d turned the events of the night over and over again in his mind until all he felt was anger. He was furious with the Cetra girl and he was furious with the entire world and he was furious with the triple-damned puppet who’d foiled him time and again.
If his tumultuous mind had been quiet and he allowed himself a moment of honesty, he would have admitted that he was more than furious with himself.
As it was, he’d found the woman sitting close to the fireplace with the large, white sheet cloaking her body. The room was chilly; he’d neglected to add more wood to the hearth and now only glowing embers remained. She’d turned around at the sound of the door creaking open with an expression on her face that spoke of many things – fatigue, happiness, fear and apprehension.
She’d carefully risen to her feet as he stalked over to her. Each step he took made his fury more clear until she saw it for what it was but by then he was already in front of her.
So she was trapped solidly between the wall and his large, unyielding body. The cold metal clips of his coat dug into her flesh. The coy little bitch was being uncooperative, feeding his desire to punish her for her insolence.
“You don’t know what happened to me, hmm?” He asked her, throwing her rhetorical question back into her face. He leaned in even closer to her, pressing the length of his body harder against her. One hand released her shoulder to wrap lightly around her neck, effectively stilling her. The other reached down to flick callously at the hard bud of her nipple, puckered from the cold. “Was it good for you too?” he asked, his voice both husky and vicious.
She stared at him in shock and even tried to struggle, but quickly froze when he tightened his hand around her throat slightly in response.
“You see,” he continued, still glaring at her intensely, “I’m afraid I don’t know what happened to you either. Did you have an orgasm?” He laughed. “I suppose I should apologize for being a terrible lover. I was very distracted.”
Aeris pressed her lips into a thin line and valiantly fought down the urge to spit at him. Yes, she’d known that he was cruel, evil and by no means sane. And she’d known that she’d been stupid and naïve to do all that she’d done last night, but it hurt nonetheless.
“Why don’t you tell me what happened, and then maybe I can tell you what you want to know,” she gritted.
Sephiroth nodded with a smirk. “All in good time. Now, I asked you a question. Did you have fun last night?”
Aeris blushed furiously at his words, both from shame and anger. What had she been thinking? “No,” she spat. “In fact, you were terrible.”
“Now I know that you’re lying. You’re very bad at it,” he told her, amused. “But I should warn you. There are consequences to lying to me. I would think carefully before doing it again.”
Without warning, Sephiroth bent down and swept her up into his arms. Aeris shrieked as she suddenly found herself off her feet and facing the floor. Effortlessly, he threw her facedown on the bed. She lay sprawled there, dazed, for a second before she pulled her arms in and pushed herself upwards so that she could rail at the bastard.
But when she pushed, she found a large hand firmly against her back, the supple leather of his glove soft against her skin. He simply held her there, able to do little more than flail her limbs uselessly. He was sitting beside her on the bed, leaned over so that his natural weight kept her down. She struck out with her hand in a failed effort to punch him – anywhere. He caught her fist with his free hand and twisted her arm behind her back to immobilize her. She couldn’t struggle. The pain lancing down her arm made it impossible. She held herself still with effort as she felt him transfer his grip on her fist so that her wrist was trapped between his hand and her back.
With her face buried in a pillow, she blushed and cringed at the humiliation of the situation.
Sephiroth ignored her. He was deep in thought, trying to find the words to describe what he’d experienced last night. It was useless. He’d already spent the morning attempting to recall and link to language what he’d seen and felt, but the effort had been in vain. It seemed to him that the passing of each minute further clouded his recollection. A part of him even thought that he’d somehow hallucinated the entire thing. If it weren’t for the simple fact that he, Sephiroth, would never fall prey to such weaknesses of the mind, it would have been a better explanation than anything he could imagine the Ancient telling him.
He studied the woman intently. She was still except for the steady but agitated rise and fall of her body with each inhale and exhale. He would become a god soon enough, fully beyond the mortal needs and desires of men, but for now, he was still, in many unfortunate ways, mortal. And certainly, like normal men, sex and aggression drove him. He’d just allowed one to overshadow the other for all those years.
Deliberately, he raised his free hand to his mouth to grip the leather at the tip of his middle finger between his teeth. He pulled his hand from within the tight confines of the glove then carelessly tossed it aside, onto the bedside table. Aeris saw none of this with her face firmly turned away from him. When his fingertips brushed the hairline behind her ear, she tensed immediately, her body like a tightly coiled spring.
“What are you doing?” she asked. Her voice was muffled and tentative.
“Touching you,” he answered, knowing it would infuriate her.
Aeris clenched her jaw at that. She turned her head so that she could glare at him with all the anger and disgust she could rally. “I can see that,” she said. “Why?”
He lifted an eyebrow at that and looked at her condescendingly. His fingers traced circles over the back of her neck and down over the expanse of her shoulders. “Strange, that you should ask that. It’s especially strange coming from the woman who was so assertive last night. Do you realize that if our roles had been reversed, many would consider that to be sexual assault?”
Her mouth opened in horrified shock to hear him say that. Without thinking, she tried to get up again, only to drop back to the bed as his firm hold on her arm made her cry out in pain. She turned away from him again in mortification and wished desperately that she wasn’t so exposed or held so vulnerable. She wished that he would just leave and let her think for a moment and perhaps even die of shame alone.
When he’d returned that morning, she’d been lost in her thoughts, but she hadn’t been awake for long enough to truly examine them as she needed to. There were too many emotions, all clamoring for attention within the confines of her skull. Like a thousand shouting voices in a single room, it had been impossible for her to properly listen to any of them.
Aeris was, in every way, herself as she had always been. Yet, she had changed, without question, and that really didn’t make any sense, but at the same time, she understood in a way that could never be explained. Much like whatever Sephiroth had experienced with her. It was as if layers that she’d been unaware of had been peeled away, strip by strip, day by day, to reveal a little more of her.
It was with astonishment that she’d realized that being naked didn’t…bother her. Not entirely, at least. She still desperately wished she had clothes, especially now, to offer her some small amount of psychological protection. But she had been without them for so long and he’d been with her through it all that it mattered so much less. If such a situation had occurred five years ago, before her death, she would have been paralyzed.
And him. On that subject she was nothing short of lost. She was both calm and accepting, but horrified with herself all at the same time. All the wrongness and the rightness clashed within her mind. But overlying all of that, she felt an undeniable and comfortable connection that they shared, and she wondered if he felt it too.
She wondered if it had been there before last night, or if the inexplicable, transcendental experience had somehow forged the bond.
But he was right, Aeris silently acknowledged. This…relationship…they now found themselves in was her doing. She had kissed him. She had touched him. She had initiated everything.
In that, she deeply feared that everything she’d ever loved would come crashing down around her in terribly broken pieces.
But then he was caressing the curve of her waist and the outer swell of her breast and she forgot to breathe. She pulled her senses back with a sharp jerk; didn’t want him to seduce her like this. He touched her as he pleased all the same. Her attempts at frigidity neither fazed nor fooled him.
He kept her securely pinned against the bed with his hand. She behaved and didn’t try to move as he leaned down to nip at the shell of her ear with his lips. He carefully exhaled, allowed the hot air of his breath to skim across the sensitive skin there. She inhaled sharply at that and her breathing became erratic. He smiled.
“I will say this,” he whispered against her ear. He paused to lick lightly at her earlobe. “You were incredible.”
He slipped his hand between her body and the mattress beneath them to cup her breast and knead it gently in his palm. She moaned in response and he delighted all the more in the sound because he knew that it had been unconscious and even against her will. She shivered beneath him and he felt his arousal grow from her reactions. She was soft and warm and yielding and he wanted to bury himself within her, but he held back, coldly and deliberately. Taking her too quickly would serve no purpose other than immediate satisfaction, but he was above that.
She was struggling again, and trembling, but he didn’t let her move or turn around. He would make her understand that whatever undefined connection they now shared, and no matter what happened, ultimately, she would live and breathe as he allowed her to.
He released her breast to explore the rest of her body, her backside.
His hand trailed down the side of her body, from waist to hip and down. The touches were so light as to be almost ticklish. He caressed every curve of her thighs and calves, the veins on top of her feet, before gliding his hand back upwards along the length of her inner thighs. His fingers gently delved into the slick folds of her center and deftly found the bud at the apex. She moaned again and gasped as he carefully, skillfully manipulated her and held her at the brink before drawing away again.
“Yes?” he asked.
“No,” she replied on a harsh exhale.
“Hmm, suit yourself.” He withdrew his fingers. “I’m content to do this.”
Suddenly, she found herself on her back with both arms pinned above her head in his still-gloved hand. He nudged at her thigh with his knee until her leg was hooked around his waist to his satisfaction. The leather of his clothes was cool against her heated skin.
He bent to capture one nipple in his mouth and he fondled her with his tongue until she cried out. One finger slipped inside her, first teasing the tiny folds of her entrance then slowly pushed in deeper to find that spot on the front wall. He pressed against it. A powerful spasm shot through her body. He retreated.
“Yes?” He whispered.
Aeris moaned beneath him, her body begging for more with a slight movement of her hips. She turned her head to the side and closed her eyes to the sight of him as he slid his finger into her again. His hand like a torch in her core, sweat beaded on her brow and breasts as she fought to ignore him.
He teased her to madness, her body wound so tight she thought she might scream.
"Look at me," he commanded.
When she refused, the urging of his finger became harsher and the pleasure between her legs blossomed to the edge of pain. She gasped and her eyes shot open, her gaze held in his.
Withdrawing his hand, he undid the zipper of his pants to release himself. He pressed himself against the length of the slit that divided her legs. She was soft and slick against him.
His fingers were stroking her clit again and she threw her head back with an incoherent sob.
"Do you want me to take you?" he asked. His voice was soft and insidious.
Dizzily, she tried to remember why she was resisting him. Why deny herself when boundaries had already been crossed? The lines between them had blurred and distorted until what was left seemed a mere parody of the past. What did they mean now?
So she nodded and whispered back, “Yes.”
He laughed, the sound of a man completely assured of his position. The gloved hand that held both of her hands above her head pressed down harder. His fingers were inside her again, coaxing, demanding.
Aeris glared at him in a haze of desperate arousal.
"First," he said, "I am going to make you come with just my hand, little one. I think it's important that you understand that you belong to me right now."
Aeris's eyes widened in shock at his words. What kind of sick game was he playing? But then her mind dissolved once more in a dark spiral of sensation as every inch of her skin came alive under his ministrations. Her nerves tightened to their breaking point as he urged her forward, relentlessly, until she was exploding around him, gasping for air, fingernails digging into palms, back arched off the bed, her muscles throbbing steadily around his fingers.
Coming back to her senses, she could see the satisfied look of a conqueror on his face through her heavy-lidded eyes.
He withdrew his hand, and with a strong shove and a smirk, he was inside her, stretching her thoroughly. She cried out again, this time into his mouth, as he was kissing her deeply, intensely. He moved within her and she moved with him, their bodies rocking together in an instinctive dance. This time there were no spiritual images, or dancing lights or melting of two souls bleeding into one another. They were a simple man and a simple woman engaged in the act of fucking each other senseless.
He hadn’t even bothered to remove his clothes.
He kept her arms pinned the entire time, neither noticing nor caring that her fingernails bit deeply into his flesh and her own.
They rose higher and higher and there was nothing but the sound of their heavy breathing between them.
Then he said, almost off-handedly, cruelly. “I think I might just keep you. Until I tire of you, at least.”
She closed her eyes against him, but more importantly against herself. Here she lay beneath him, panting and moaning and letting herself be used like a whore. But despite it all, or maybe even because of it all, she was swept away by tidal waves of bliss and her body screamed and exploded falling in a shower of warm feeling until there was nothing left.
He finished and spilled his seed deep inside her. It was hot and uncomfortable as it trickled out of her, but she barely noticed in the fatigue of the aftermath. Her eyes remained closed and she felt herself already slipping towards sleep.
He withdrew from her, spent, satisfied. Tucking himself back into his pants, he rallied his thoughts, knowing that he needed to move quickly. Without hesitation, he cast a strong sleep spell over the woman, its effect aided by her own tiredness. He retrieved his glove from the bedside table and left the room to gather what he needed. The fireplace needed to be emptied and the room returned to a proper state of abandon.
The puppet and his friends would be there soon.
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Sepsis