A.N.: Next chapter up! Spurred on by the reviews , thank you .
"Better?" His voice is clear and serious now. He's moving towards me, and stops a foot away, staring down at me, daring me to say no and leave. I don't. Why am I letting this happen again?
Because the feel of his eyes burning into mine made my legs feel as if they were going to give way beneath me, because the way he towered over me intimidated me and excited me at the same time, because when he hadn't come into my room last night I ached and dreamt of his hot hands all over me, and the fire in my stomach burned so much I wanted to scream. Because I shouldn't let it happen again. But I was going to.
I nod faintly. I bite my lip and my fingers twitch slightly towards him. Sirius takes this as consent and is kissing me immediately, backing me up into the door and pressing me to it tightly, his lips bruising and crushing. I gasp with both pleasure and shock at the realisation of what I've done, again. I don't fully understand why I am reaching up and encircling him with my arms, one in his hair, pulling him still closer to me, mumbling his name and he's lifting up my top, and I'm helping him, lifting up my arms even as I'm telling myself that this is insane, that he's much too old and we're far too close to the others getting up and It's too risky and no-one that counts has ever seen me topless before.
He's kneeling, kissing my belly and making me shiver, looking up at me and grinning, his grey eyes glinting in the warm candle light. His kisses trail upwards and his hands are slipping the straps of my underwear over my shoulders and part way down my arms and the tingling is more of a burning now as I tug at his hair to get him to kiss me, pressing myself into him and I hear a throaty moan and it takes a few moments to realise that it's me.
I feel him smirk, rubbing himself against me through his jeans, one hand over my bra and one in my hair, and then he's taking his shirt off and I gasp at the feel of his hot skin against mine, and I trace the tattoos and scars from Azkaban and he tries to brush my hand away, but I carry on, and he moans and we're kissing again with his arms either side of me, trapping me against him and then one has trailed down and is brushing down my arm and his teeth are at my neck and then his hand reaches the top of my jeans and is undoing the top button and panic is swooping down on me, swallowing me and I can feel my breathing get shallower and Sirius is taking this as encouragement when really I'm not so sure I do want this white fire that's consuming me, it's making me feel sick it burns so much and what if someone did find us and he's pulling now at my jeans tugging them downwards and I say his name, but he doesn't realise what I mean and why should he, and I can't bring myself to stop him or carry on. But I don't have to force a decision out of myself, because as Sirius reaches for the belt buckle of his own trousers he glances sideways to the large silver clock on the wall and pulls back, staring at me wide eyed. He mutters an assortment of swearwords as he steps forward to me, kissing me desperatly as he does the button back up on my jeans, then leans down and hands me my top. For once my feelings are unconfused as I tidy myself up to the noises of footsteps above us. The cool wave of relief washing over me is fantastic, and I can't help but grin. Sirius mistakes this and grins back at me, winking as he straightens my top.
But even as I'm consumed with relief at the interuption by the impending day, I'm hoping that I get another chance to kiss Sirius. I push thoughts of where that will lead away.
I'm foolishly deluded by the luck I have had so far. How could I have thought I could avoid the conclusion forever? But luck breeds arrogance, and so it did in me.