A/N: This has been bugging me for quite some time, so, consider this as a special bonus to my fanfic, The Second Stone. This section features some scenes in which I want to happen but can't seem to put on paper yet. xD

Sorry for the late upload, though. I promised to upload it a few days ago, but, school complications erupted, and I forgot my mom's laptop at home…

Dedicated to:

N1ghtdr34m3r – You are the source of my inspiration for writing. As I look back at your comments, I am grateful to have met you, and, I hope you read this story as a tribute. I know how badly you ship SpurTang.

To those who favorite and followed my story, thanks, too! Your support means a lot to me as a writer.

Well, R & R~

To Taste that is Forbidden

Roy Mustang

I stared at her sleeping form, not sure what to do. Raking my tussled black hair, making it even more disarrayed, WilleLaire, my dear little Lark, was sleeping in the common room of the Hufflepuff House, and carelessly so. Her dyed purple hair was scattered around her like a halo, her one arm dangling from the sofa while the other one was clutching a book on Potions.

I sent a little chuckle at that, knowing full well that Potions was the least of her favorite subjects.

I walked towards her and was nearly caught in the headlights. Her charcoal grey sweatshirt of clockwork geared theme motif was slowly raised above her navel, showing off her thin body. Her light grey leggings were clutching her body tightly, showing off her lower figure that sent my mind in turmoil.

Fuck, when did she grow so…mature?

I didn't mean in the mental state. I knew that underneath the baggy clothes and exaggerated outfits she wore in school hid a body that deserved to be worshipped. Despite her disfigured leg, which was an Automail, or a mechanical body part at that, she was still that little beauty I couldn't seem to pester years ago. I could see the slight swelling of her breasts from her breathing, which was calm like the wind.

Forbidden fruit, forbidden taste. To taste of one so innocent as she…

My mind wandered off further to what I was seeing right now. Her parted lips were open. They were cracked, probably from the cold temperature in contrast to what she was probably used to. Her long black lashes fanned her cheeks as she released a breath from time to time.

A stirring deep within me swelled that went down to my crotch. An inner turmoil stirred, rearing its ugly head.

No! She's only thirteen!

But, she might as well be an adult in her experiences, sexually aside.

She's only thirteen! Mustang, you pedophile!

This was not supposed to happen.

She was my ward. I cannot… I could not…how many years since I had to fight the demons within me?

Years ago, I denied this feeling when I recognized it for what it was. She was but a child to my age, and what I felt for her back then was one of a parental love…until she saw me naked. Disgust was the first thing that crept through my mind, followed by wondering why I suddenly felt the urge to take the child into a spanking. She nonchalantly flipped me off, as if seeing naked men was something she was used to. But, when she asked that question…

"Corporal Flirt," she called out, "your hotdog is just for peeing right? How come guys have theirs stand whenever they wake up?"

That dirty mouth that needed to be punished.

How do I rid myself of this demon?

I looked around and realized that everyone else was down at the Lake, where the current tournament was being held between the three major schools of Europe.

The timing was very peculiar in my taste.

"Just a taste," I mumbled to myself, "and then I'll leave her alone."

The inner demon in me laughed in mockery.

Slowly and gently, I swept a strand of hair away from her face and observed her budding breasts. My hands, which twitched with expectation, wandered around the swell of her breasts. A hiss came from me, each one fitting just about right in my palm.

"So soft," I whispered.

She was semi-flat chested, but, it was alright. She was a wee thing to have the usual breasts I usually go after, and, I understood that she was still a developing child.

Ripe for the taking.

Her lips beckoned.

If anyone told me that a kiss would send me hardening even more than usual before, I would have laughed at their faces and sent them running thirty laps around the entire country, but, now, that I tasted her, I couldn't stop as my hands went to cup more of her tiny breasts.

My hands proceeded to go lower as she remained unconscious through my ministrations.

I slowly lowered her tights, my eyes widening at the innocent panties she had. It was plain white with a small bow at the front. Lowering them next, I took a wisp of her scent and nearly splurged there and then.

I decided to keep her underwear inside the back pocket of my pants.

My resolved growing stronger, I lowered myself down to her pussy and was well-received when I licked her inner folds and felt her sweet liquid trailing down.

Careful, Mustang!

I quickly unzipped my pants and pulled out my already hardened junk.

"Lark," I groaned softly as to not awaken her.

I positioned my middle finger and slowly inserted it inside her tight folds. I was taken by surprise at that moment when I met the barrier of her hymen, making me grin.

My Larkspur is innocent!

As I pumped my finger within her, I dealt myself the same ministrations, pumping my stiff rod up and down.

My mind travelled to an image of her, bended on her knees, licking and sucking me while she played with my balls. Her eyes wide, her hair grasped within my other hand, fisted as I lead her to my finish.

From time to time, I remove my finger from her folds and traced the juices she spilled on me.

"You like that, huh?" I said to the image of Lark moaning on the ground. "Fuck, you like mixing your juices on my dick? You like that? You like the taste of my cum?"

Her in my bed, her back arched for me, and only for me…her ass against mine…

My pumps became more erratic as the need to release called forth. As the fire slowly rose, I quickly pulled my hand away from Lark and placed it in front of me when I felt the release of my milky white liquid, falling over towards the outstretched palm.

My breathing was quick and irregular. Sweat trickled down my forehead, which I wiped away with my sleeve.

I fixed myself and properly dressed Lark, who gently shifted away from me. It was slightly a hassle, but, I managed to put on her tights. Happy that I managed to make it look nothing but an innocent visit transpiring between two people, I zipped my pants properly and threw my cum into the fireplace, the flames within sizzling from the contact.

With one last look, I sauntered off, shaking my head.

My footsteps were silent as I marched out of her common room, yet, her image, sprawled and unkempt in my bed, didn't leave, resounding in me even more.

Now that I tasted the forbidden fruit, I am never letting her go.