NOTAKING
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Ble@ch: Chapter 79
🕑 Added 2025-05-30 12:28:36 +0000 UTCThe morning light slipped through the cracks in the window, soft golden rays cutting across the tangled sheets and sweat-damp skin. The room smelled like heat and sex, heavy and unmistakable.
Rukia stirred first, her lashes fluttering open as she shifted slightly—then froze with a sharp hiss.
“…Ow.”
Every inch of her ached. Her thighs, her hips, her throat… even the bruises on her breasts throbbed as she moved. Ichigo had not held back last night. Her body was living proof of that.
She turned her head slowly, the sheets cool against her flushed cheek. Ichigo was still fast asleep beside her, half-covered in the messy blanket, his toned chest rising and falling steadily. His arm was slung lazily over her waist, keeping her close even in unconsciousness.
She stared at him for a long moment, lips twitching.
“You brute,” she whispered under her breath.
Still, there was no anger in her voice—only quiet amusement and a flicker of something warmer. Her fingers ghosted across the faint marks she’d left on his shoulder. He’d marked her too—his way of making sure she felt him long after the night ended.
Rukia shifted again, sucking in another breath through clenched teeth as the soreness between her legs flared up. Her cheeks flushed.
“Seriously… how did all of that fit?”
As if sensing her thoughts, Ichigo stirred. His brows furrowed, then his golden-brown eyes cracked open, sleepily locking on to her face.
“…You’re awake,” he murmured, voice thick and hoarse from sleep. A lazy smile pulled at his lips. “How’re you feeling?”
“Like I got hit by a freight train,” she replied dryly.
His grin widened. “I warned you.”
She gave him a mock glare. “You warned me, and then you flipped me over, held me down, and made me scream so loud I think half of Soul Society heard.”
Ichigo chuckled, dragging her closer, pressing a slow kiss to her shoulder. “Worth it. Didn't you put a spell or something?"
" I did, not sure if it worked though" she said.
" Well we'll see when we go out" He responded with a smirk.
Rukia groaned, but didn’t resist as he nuzzled into her neck. “You're insatiable.”
“You didn’t complain last night.” His hand drifted down, sliding over her hip, then pausing just above the curve of her ass. “Still not complaining now.”
“Touch me there again and I’ll send you flying out the window,” she warned, though her body betrayed her with a shiver.
“I’ll take that as a maybe.”
He kissed her again, softer this time, lingering. Rukia exhaled, letting herself relax into him despite the soreness, despite the heat still simmering between them. Maybe that was the danger with Ichigo—it wasn’t just the rough, breath-stealing nights. It was the way he made her feel the morning after, like she belonged tangled up in him.
“…Breakfast?” he asked eventually, voice low.
Rukia raised a brow. “I'm not hungry.”
Ichigo laughed. “Are you hungry for something else?”
Rukia blushed " No!? I'm not sure If I can walk"
" Hmm don't blame me" He said.
“I will blame you,” she muttered, grabbing a pillow and smacking it lightly into his face. “And next time, I’m on top.”
He caught the pillow easily, eyes flashing with interest. “Deal. But just know… I won’t make it easy for you.”
Rukia’s lips curled into a slow, wicked smirk. “I’m counting on it.”
Ichigo stepped quietly out of Rukia’s room, stretching his shoulders with a low sigh. His body still tingled from the night before — bruised, sore, and thoroughly satisfied. He made his way back to his room, tossing on a clean set of clothes before heading toward the bathhouse to wash off the remnants of a night well-spent.
The familiar scent of steam and herbs greeted him as he stepped into the bathing area. Inside, he found Uryuu perched at the edge of the hot spring, reading a book with a serene expression, while Chad sat half-submerged, eyes closed, muscles relaxed in the warm water.
Ichigo raised a brow. “A book? In the bathhouse?”
Uryuu didn’t look up. “They have good stories. I can’t help myself,” he said plainly, flipping a page.
Ichigo snorted softly, then glanced over at Chad, who simply gave a slow nod in greeting, still enjoying the calm water in silence.
“He’s always chill,” Ichigo thought, a small smirk tugging at his lips.
He stripped and slipped into the water with a low groan, the soothing warmth immediately easing the tension in his muscles. Small cuts and bruises from earlier battles—and last night’s intense encounter—began to fade as the spiritual energy of the spring worked its healing magic.
“I could’ve healed on the spot,” Ichigo mused, resting his head back, “but what’s the fun in that? No pain, no pleasure.” His eyes narrowed slightly. “Time to meet the real Zangetsu soon. No more holding back.”
After a few peaceful minutes, Ichigo rose, dried off, and stepped back out into the hallway, only to find Yoruichi leaning casually against the wall. Her golden eyes immediately locked onto his bare torso, gliding slowly over the toned muscles, the faint bite marks, the bruises that hadn't quite faded.
A slow, predatory smile curved her lips.
“If we weren’t in that guy’s manor,” she purred, “I’d pounce on you right now.”
Ichigo gave her a cocky half-smirk. “Oh? That’s what’s stopping you? Shame.”
He brushed past her toward his room. She followed without hesitation, closing the door behind her with a quiet click, then leaning back against it.
“We’ll be leaving in a few hours,” she said, eyes still drinking him in. “You against that?”
“Nah,” Ichigo replied easily, already stripping down again. “I’m good with that. We should hang out once we leave this place.”
Yoruichi blinked, visibly caught off guard as he stood there, stark naked and completely unfazed, casually applying moisturizer to his skin like it was just another part of his routine.
Her gaze dropped.
And didn’t leave.
“He’s… huge,” she thought, throat suddenly dry. “I once caught a glimpse of Kisuke’s, and this isn’t even in the same league…”
She looked away quickly, cheeks warming, though her eyes drifted back again without her permission. Ichigo finished getting dressed, completely unaware—or perhaps entirely aware—of the effect he had on her.
A little while later, they made their way to the dining area. Orihime was already there, happily munching away, her eyes lighting up when she saw them.
“Oh! Good morning!” she said through a mouthful of food.
Ichigo waved lazily before sitting down. A few seconds later, Byakuya entered the room in his usual cold, elegant silence. The atmosphere instantly thickened with tension. Even Orihime slowed her chewing.
Then came Rukia.
She walked in with calm poise, her steps light, her expression perfectly composed—almost too composed. She took her seat beside Ichigo as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.
Ichigo glanced at her briefly.
No flushed cheeks. No knowing looks. Just that cool Kuchiki composure.
But when her thigh brushed his under the table and lingered, he smirked to himself.
“What a wonderful life,” he thought, leaning back with a content sigh as the table filled with quiet conversation and awkward glances.
He didn’t need to say it out loud, but it was clear as day:
Ichigo Kurosaki was living his best life—and things were only getting better.
TO BE CONTINUED 
