Promises
By: Rikka
A/N//Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, although (as you read, you'll realize it too) I suppose this disclaimer is kind of moot. I know I should be working on "Give To Me" but life right now isn't very happy, so much of what I've written (two of which have been HP ffics) is not so happy, and I'm posting this just to see what y'all think. The other story I wrote was posted under a different name (I wasn't sure if it would be blocked since it was kind of…bad…anyway…) email me if you're interested in reading. This is kind of a short little vignette, very much rated R, so don't keep reading if you shouldn't be. You know who you are.
She thought it was over. Yet here she was, brought to his room under the diaphanous pretense of him needing "someone to talk to."
She hated this. She hated the power he had over her, from that first day when he uttered the words, "we need to talk," until today, sitting in an over-stuffed chair, hands folded, waiting while he heated up water for a cup of tea. How had it all begun? Stolen looks across a room, a hand brushing here, a conversation there. He was talking to her now, but the words weren't important. Always the same, conversations about the weather, other people, books they'd read, things they'd thought about, new conversations with new topics with the same undertone, all an excuse.
She answered all his questions on autopilot; since when did he "need someone to talk to" anyway? So out of character he might as well have said, "I need a hug".
Suddenly she sensed a shift in the conversation; was he finally going to get to the point?
"I'm sorry I'm an ass." He stated flatly, running his hands through his hair. He paced in front of her, making her slightly nervous since he hadn't actually taken a seat since they came into the room. He glanced at her before pouring the tea into cups, thin china clasped in his pale, delicate hands.
Tingles up her arm, she felt his skin as she took her cup, and he sat down across from her, crossing one leg over the other, taking a sip of tea before continuing.
"Do you forgive me?"
She pretended to think for a little; this charade, this game, this verbal dance they did in exchange for foreplay, it was a tease. The fool's devotion, she thought to herself, before standing and stretching. "That depends. Are you going to make it up to me?" she said, sliding a finger down his chest. He looked down at her, smirking, before leaning forward as though to kiss her.
Stepping back out of his arms reach, she raised an eyebrow at him. "I asked you a question," she reminded him, and then began unbuttoning her shirt. He watched, slightly amused, before answering her.
"I'll make it up to you."
Two steps and he was right next to her, his presence, his smell, heat, filling her every sense. He didn't even hesitate as he ripped off her shirt and bra, placing a breast in his mouth as his hands made their way around her back, finding the clasp of her skirt and letting it drop to the floor, soon followed by her delicate panties.
He trailed kisses down her neck as she undressed him, tugging harshly at his belt. She yanked down his pants, pushed up his shirt, and ran her hands along his contours.
He broke contact long enough to slip the shirt over his head and then descended to kiss her lips, finally, hard, rough, raw, asking her for more, always asking her for more. His hands trailed their way over her body as she slowly backed up towards the bed. They met in front of the bed, kissing, groping, feeling each other all over as though it was the last time; it was always the last time. When her hands made their way into his silky boxers he growled, pushing her forcibly onto the bed before stripping completely.
He kissed his way up her body quickly; her curves already committed to memory. Soon he was biting her neck, sucking her ear, his hand finding more delicate areas to tease. She grasped his cock, stroking it, moaning at the sensations he caused with his fingers immersed in her folds. She was getting wet, her lips were sucking on his, her tongue pushing its way into his mouth, battling with his in a war that she never did win. She pulled her head from his in frustration.
"Stop, stop, now! Fuck me!" she cried out, moving her hands around his hips to pull him towards her. He cast a smug look at her before plunging in, and then all she could think were palpable feelings; her skin and his skin together, thrusting against one another, harder and faster as intensity began to build between them.
She opened her eyes halfway and found him staring right at her. "Ohhhh," she moaned, and he thrust harder. Her fingernails scratched their way down his back as she felt her entire body tighten from the inside. So close, she was so close she closed her eyes and the next thing she knew he was pulling out of her, sitting up on his knees over her. She cried out in protest before he rolled her over, pulling her up and entering her again, roughly, picking up where he had left off.
She allowed him this for a few minutes before pushing herself up and turning around, kissing him gently, pulling him down on top of her before flipping him over to straddle his hips. She could feel his cock against her ass cheeks, and she wiggled them just a bit before riding him, her hands on his chest as she rocked back and forth. She could feel him under her, getting closer, and she tightened herself around him before pausing and looking down. Taking her hint, he reached a hand down and began teasing her clit, and she began moving again, speeding up as his finger rolled and twisted and rubbed her clit until she felt as though she might split in two.
They both held off as long as they could before finally coming at the same time, waves of pleasure flowing through them, her muscles spasming around him as he came inside of her.
She collapsed on top of him. He felt hot under her. She licked a bead of sweat off his neck before nibbling on his ear. He moaned at her attentions, before sliding out from under her and shifting her to her back. He slid down the bed, and put one leg of hers over each of his shoulders before licking the inside of each of her thighs, moving closer towards the spot that was still twitching with pleasure.
His tongue found her clit, and began gently licking her slowly, moving away and then coming back, teasing her, torturing her, until she could feel the building of another orgasm.
She grabbed his hair, keeping his head down as she came, her thighs squeezing around his ears as she bucked, screaming his name.
After she had finished, he moved back up next to her, pulling her in to his body. "Do you know what you do to me?" he asked her through heavy-lidded eyes, reaching both arms around her in an embrace.
"Yes."