-A Thirst for Desire-

Orihime often wondered what she saw in him and what made her stay. Grimmjaw never spoke much words to her. He came in and out as if the room belonged to him.

She couldn't understand her own emotions, understand why she never opposed his actions. She didn't enjoy it, but she didn't hate it all together.

What didn't she enjoy in it? The fact that it was betraying her own friends, betraying herself, and Ichigo.

But what part of her made her fancy the moments? How he was so demanding, how his muscular body overthrew hers, how it moved and protected her, between the sheets and all around it, but most of all how he was so damn good.

Grimmjaw had the most foul mouth. Taunting her and making her cry, threatning her with his most maniacal laugh.

Once he had said to her, "S'all up to you, I couldn't give a fucks shit if ya wanted out. Just don't come runnin' back to me." Those words were intoxicating to her, Orihime breathed it in day and night, not letting a single word of his slip from her blant and baffled mind. She couldn't keep such a merciless promise. She couldn't dare to risk the little relationship they barely shared for her own happiness.

It wasn't like she was happy to be with him. His presence meant her most sensitive and weak area's were about to be divulged by his rough and piercing sex. Every angle and every speed that he felt like going.

Her painful plead for him to slow down would only result in his obnoxious response, "Ya want it faster huh? I'll give ya a fucken rough ass time for tellin me what to do." and his speed would only increase from there, yet it made her feel the more better.

She knew he liked it when she dug into his arrancar skin and she knew that he was almost there when he would grip and tug into her hair.

Orihime knew for a fact that Grimmjaw saw nothing in her, only simply seeing her as a toy during the nights so he could relieve his stress, but she also couldn't help but think that he trusted only her because he would do such a thing as spending his time with only her.

When she was the one that craved for him, he would smirk and provoke her.

"Wha was that girl? Nahh not t'night, I only want it when I force ya to become wet." He would then playfully stroke her skin gently (something he would never ever ever do in any other situation) and walk out, softly closing the stone cold door, leaving her angry and unsatisifed.

He had only done this once for he soon found out that Orihime would go looking for the dark tear eyed Espada to play with until morning. Nobody was to touch his trinket.

Why did she go to Ulquiorra that night when she was upset with Grimmjaw? There was two distinct reasons.

One, she knew that Grimmjaw was not very fond of the loyal and cold blooded, high ranking espada.

One and a half, Ulquiorra's teary streams were just oh so adorable!

Two, she knew once Grimmjaw found it, he would never say such things to displease her when she wanted him.

She was confused about becoming quite like him. Flowers and butterflies were not lurking her mind anymore. The aroma of sweetcakes and cherries did not wave around her like it use to.

But at least that’s what she thought. Grimmjaw always complained about being around her and feeling like a fruit.

“I’ll make ya sweat all that shit outta yer system.”

Orihime once had the courage to pull on Grimmjaws turquoise gorgeous hair while the springs bounced and clashed through the night. He growled slightly but continued on. She whispered,

“Grimmjaw...”

This made the rate of his thrusting rapidly ascend.

“Fuck...in... say it again.” He would order, sinking his teeth into her lushes soft skin, making it gush out with blood that he would suck away menacingly. Orihime would then repeat in her low voice, moaning with much pleasure.

If he treated her so, why did she stay?

Fear? It couldn't be, for fear was only a distressing emotion of danger. Danger wasn’t the case when she was around Grimmjaw.

Hatred? It was far from that, she rather appreciated his company.

Suffering? At first it could have been seen as that, but not now... A wicked smile would spread within her soul when he would hop on her without warning.

Orihime wondered. Grimmjaw never said anything about love. She knew he only used her, he didn’t see nothing in her. He didn’t care for her well being.

Then why did he continue to return to her every night? To only let her hold him in her arms so warmingly and so tenderly. To tell her, “Yer mine. Don’cha fuckin know that?”

For maybe he loved and protected so much that words could no longer comrehend such a significant amount. He had said to her,

“Words mean nothing. Just fuck with all you got and that’ll tell you how you really feel. If it fuckin feels good, then it’s worth it.”

And she replied.

“...pervert.”

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Just a little idea I came up with...at 2am. I'm thinking of writing another one about when Orihime went to Ulquiorra's room, it would be exciting to see how Orihime would lure Ulquiorra with puppies and bunnies!