Traitor

written by: albe-chan

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction and I do NOT own Harry Potter or any of the characters mentioned, I am making no money from this, and any similarities with real life are purely coincidental. This work will contain MATURE THEMES, such as coarse language, mature subject matter (scenes containing graphic sex, kinky sex, nudity, etc.), and/or violence. Please, if you are not over the age of 18, or of majority in your country, DO NOT READ THIS! You have been warned!

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Lorcan felt his blood run cold. It was the sign he'd been anticipating, the one he'd known would come at some point, and he didn't want it to be happening. And yet, there it was. The expensive invitation paper bearing precision calligraphy, addressed to him and summoning him to dine with his superiors, his boss and his boss's boss, and probably a dozen other important people Lorcan didn't know and probably wouldn't care for. And, of course, there was the expected plus one clause. That he must bring a date, and which, if Lorcan knew anything, which he unfortunately did, meant some pretty, vapid, young thing. An easily pliable witch who wouldn't mind having some perverted old wizard take advantage of her for the evening should someone higher up decide they'd like her. And, Lorcan knew, if he brought Lily, there'd be hell to pay, because she was anything but pliable, and he'd murder any sonofabitch who tried to force himself on her.

But Lorcan would have to be open to the idea of having Lily on display, for any and all to see, probably dolled up to the nines, looking and smelling delectable, and undoubtedly tasting even better. And, even worse, he'd have to accept that the other slavering dogs would want to look, and touch, and taste her, even though he didn't want to share. And he knew Lily would, undoubtedly, hate him for it. She'd hate him for all but whoring her out, even though he'd want to kill anyone who even looked upon what he firmly considered his.

But there was no option of declining, or backing out. And he knew his redheaded, feisty witch would hate him more for subjecting some other witch to being his companion for the evening, even if that was obviously the wiser course of action. So when she sashayed into his office, looking pleased, he met her gaze levelly. "What's wrong?" she demanded immediately, moving around his desk with easy confidence, slinging a leg over his lap and sitting on him without preamble. "You look like you want to curse something."

"I do," Lorcan said shortly, and put the invitation into her lap. Her intelligent hazel eyes darted over the words inked onto the expensive parchment swiftly. "That's why," he added tersely.

She looked up at him, confused. "You want to curse something because your bosses want you to attend some kind of dinner and bring a date?" she asked.

"No," Lorcan said, unable to resist drawing his palms over her thighs, up to her hips, then under her blouse, holding her waist. "I want to curse someone, a specific someone, because I'm being forced, against my desire, to drag my witch to some Godric fucking awful dinner with a bunch of rich, conceited, and horny bastards who will talk down to me and try to convince my witch, by just about every means possible, to go home with them instead."

Lily frowned. "Are you expecting me to be that witch?" she asked.

Lorcan snorted, smirking without amusement. "It's you or some broad I find in the next four hours who won't mind pretending she's besotted with me while dirty old men throw themselves at her." Lily frowned. "And yes, I can promise that if you are that witch," he added, seeing her mind whirring along, picturing the scenario in her mind, "you'll have to pretend you're flattered by some wizard grabbing your ass and calling you no better than a whore."

Lily's brow furrowed, but then she smirked. "And do these pervy old bastards actually think any witch you might bring is going to want to trade you in for a floppy dick and being called a whore?" she asked.

Lorcan shrugged, feeling marginally less filled with dread at her reaction. "Probably," he said honestly. She snorted, then glanced at the invitation.

"Then we'll go," she said lightly. Then her eyes widened. "Wait, I don't have to actually go home with anyone but you, do I?" she murmured.

Lorcan grimaced. "If the head honcho is really interested, or has any opinion on the matter really, the option of choice narrows drastically," he admitted, bracing for Lily's explosion. "But he's generally well taken care of in that department and rarely cares."

Lily frowned. "How narrow?" she pushed.

The massive blond wizard looked distinctly uncomfortable, and Lily suspected the very selfish and possessive Slytherin beneath her was trying to reign in his temper, and not rile her own. "From everything I've heard, and seen, the only way you'd wriggle out of that one is if his, or anyone else, having you would somehow detriment him." He sighed when Lily's brow furrowed more. "I've only heard of it happening once. The witch, some daughter of someone, was apparently all for it, until her father informed the boss the girl was a virgin, and there had been, because she was from one of those respectable pureblood families, a charm within her blood that any man to take her virginity would be forced into a matrimonial bond of the Unbreakable Vow variety. So he'd have had to marry the girl if he had her, which apparently was enough of a turn off for the boss. He's already got two wives." Lily's brows lifted in shock, and Lorcan grinned. "They're married to different wizards, technically, and one lives in England, the other here, and they've never met." Lily shook her head a little. "Still game?" he pushed, smiling without humour.

"I can play with the big boys," Lily said, and smiled softly at him, dropping the invitation onto the desk behind her. "Besides, better me than some poor broad you'd con into being your date, just to send her like a lamb to slaughter with the old perverts." Lorcan snorted.

"Better some other poor broad dressed in skimpy lingerie being molested when I can't do a thing to stop it, than you." He frowned. "I almost don't want to bring you, because I'll murder whoever dares to fucking touch you."

Lily wrapped her arms around his neck, then kissed his neck. "Jealous," she accused with surety.

"You fucking bet, Princess. You're mine, and I don't like sharing."

Lily hummed. "You won't have to," she replied with easy confidence. "I can play the part of the delighted little fangirl for your bosses while making sure they don't see me as an option on the menu."

Lorcan grunted, palms smoothing up her ribcage. "They won't all be dirty old perverts," he finally rumbled, cupping her breasts. "Some will be younger. Probably not as attractive as me, but good enough looking I reckon. And they'll try very hard to persuade you, Princess."

"Good thing I'm a stubborn redhead, then, isn't it?" she murmured. "Relax, Lorcan. It will be fine. And I know you wouldn't pitch it to me if you had any other choice," she said, surprising him. Her hazel eyes glittered. "And you'll just have to trust me that I'll still be property of Lor Scam by this time tomorrow," she added.

Lorcan tugged her nipples roughly, making her gasp. "If you aren't," he rumbled, "I can promise by sundown tomorrow you will be again. Whether I have to kill the head of the fucking whole organization in my own parlour or not."

Lily smiled. "I like the sound of that. When do we have to go?"

"Not until seven."

The redheaded witch rolled her pelvis teasing atop him, arching into the gentle hold he had on her breasts, then tossed her long mane of hair. "Good. Enough time for you to take me home and wreck my pussy before any of the other pervy bastards have a chance to tonight."

At a quarter to seven, Lorcan watched from the bedroom doorway in his little cottage as Lily stood in his bathroom, doing her hair and makeup. She had on dark red lipstick and had heavily made up eyes, her lashes longer and thicker than ever with the amount of mascara she'd slicked on them, and he couldn't stop staring at the subtle glimmer of her smooth porcelain flesh under the light every time she moved. She'd applied some sort of lotion after showering that made her skin glitter and shine temptingly, enveloping her in a soft cloud of vanilla scent to boot. "You look too good," he grumbled, doing up his pants. Lily smirked at him through the mirror, then finished curling her hair that waved and curled down her back and around her shoulders, all sexy and begging for hands to be buried in it.

"You're biased," she said. Lorcan shook his head, eyes tracing her arse from where it peeked out of her too-short, low-rider denim cut offs that were held together over her hips by sexy black lace cutouts, making it obvious she wasn't wearing panties. And he knew, from the clasp and the hint of purple overlaid with black lace, she'd be wearing the little bustier that gave her miles deep cleavage and made any straight man do a double take. Even her shoes screamed 'Fuck me hard up against a wall!' with their stiletto heels and strappy black laces that wound up her calves.

"I'm a red blooded, heterosexual male, looking at the sexiest witch on the Continent, wearing very little, and smelling good enough to eat. I'm stating the obvious, Princess."

Lily regarded her reflection for a moment, curled one last section of hair around her wand, and stepped back. "You're getting cold feet, fuelled by jealousy," she replied evenly, and turned at last to strut toward him in the bedroom, his shirt on but still unbuttoned. "Now finish getting dressed." His eyes darted down the tattoo on her hip, smirking a little at it, because it was very noticeable upon her pale, creamy skin, and it made him feel much better about what he had to do.

"You'll have to keep that mouth in check, Princess," he rumbled, buttoning up his shirt at last. Lily rolled her eyes. He'd gone over the basic expectations for her. That she appear available and willing to a degree, look good and be ready for people to cross the lines of propriety with her, and, most of all, act delighted for the attention, and keep her snarky, sharp tongue to herself. She couldn't be rude or bossy, and although he doubted she'd disappoint, part of Lorcan knew if Lily was backed into a corner by some persistent idiot she'd lose her temper. And that would cost him. He was expected to have a witch willing to do her duty, on her back with legs spread wide if must be, for the organization, and one who wasn't liable to cock anything up. Which meant she'd have to act, for the most part, like a perfect little pureblood heiress and not the passionate, fiery witch he preferred her as.

"You too, Hotshot," she relied, and licked her lips seductively at him. "Mmm, I like this shirt," she murmured. "You look good in blue."

"Don't get used to it," was all Lorcan said as he shrugged into his best robes and Lily picked up the light, all black cloak she'd laid out on the bed for herself, fastening it round her shoulders, the wide, billowy garment hiding her current state of slutty dress.

"Too bad," she murmured. "I really like when you wear something other than just black." Lorcan opened his mouth to reply, but then Lily added, "And jeans don't count," before he could reply, and looked at him expectantly. "Well? Are we going?"

Lorcan scowled, but pulled her close, gripping her tight in a hug, even as her arms wound up around his shoulders and neck, breasts crushed against his chest, her body moulded to his. And then he Apparated them to his chateau in Bordeaux. And even though it was technically his own house, they walked up the front steps after appearing in thin air, and Lorcan lead Lily, still in her cloak, through the front doors, smirking a little as her breath sucked in on a gasp when they entered the grand foyer.

Lily was indeed in shocked awe. She'd never seen anything so magnificent. The massive, domed room was a dozen stories, she was certain and in the middle hung, suspended mid-air, a beautiful, equally large and magnificent chandelier. "Wow," she couldn't help but breathe. Because she felt like a cheap, made up tart in this fancy, grand entryway, with a massive staircase unfurling before her, up to the third story, and two large doorways on either side, just ahead of them, leading to the rest of the main floor.

"Come on," Lorcan said at last, trying to close off his emotions concerning the little redheaded witch he'd come to require by his side. It was difficult, especially with her wide eyed look of wonder, and he wanted nothing more than to give her the grand tour, at his leisure, without anyone else present, but now anytime they might come here, Lily would remember this night. He frowned, trying to clear his mind. He had to use Occlumency to shield his almost traitorous thoughts concerning Lily, and make sure no one thought of her as more than a passing fancy he'd claimed on a whim. He couldn't afford to lose focus tonight. "The parlour I imagine," he said, and indeed, when they passed through the doorway on the left, there seemed to be a large gathering in the long, spacious room. Wizards milled in their best robes, many with women, and a few with wizards, of all shapes and sizes, dressed similarly to Lily and some in even less, on their arms.

The redhead couldn't help but blush trying to avoid looking at anyone directly, and Lorcan frowned, but didn't comment as he unfastened her cloak and assisted her in removing it. Lily couldn't help but blush even more. At Lorcan's little cottage it was easy to feel confident. Here, in the face of so many attractive women, all of whom she was positive looked better than her, milling around on the arms of sometimes creepily older wizards, Lily felt distinctly inferior. "Lor," she whispered, anxiety churning her belly, and he looked at her sharply. "I don't know if I can…" She swallowed, trying to muster courage that seemed nonexistent. She'd taken a potion earlier, and wished she brought more. Lots more. Maybe even something stronger than Calming Draught infused with marijuana and Muggle ecstasy.

Lorcan slid a hand into her hair, fisting it loosely, and drew her forward to talk directly against her ear. "You can do this, Lily," he said firmly. "You'll have fun. I know you, Princess, remember? Even at Hogwarts you were an awful flirt, and you did it all so damn well, making every poor bastard in our year think he had a chance with you, when you were still pure as the driven snow."

"But," she whispered, and then felt Lorcan's hand tighten its hold on her hair.

"But you can do this, Lily," he all but growled. "You're an old pro. Just remember, you hold the power, love."

Lily sucked in a breath, feeling her confidence rise a little, and took a deep breath, her courage seeming much stronger. "Right," she breathed.

"I'm not going to pep talk you again, Princess. It's time to go." Lorcan pulled back at that, then kissed her briefly, not enough to mar her magically enhanced stay-put lipstick, but enough to remind her who she would still belong to, and Lily forced herself to woman up.

And, just like that, she recalled with perfect clarity just how to act, how to flirt, and be a tease, and also make sure she was nice about it. Lorcan was right, she'd been nice to every guy who tried to hit on her at Hogwarts, chatted him up, flirted, touched his arm perhaps, but never anything more, never enough to suggest she was truly interested, unless she had been. But now, the redhead knew, it would be much more intense, and she tried to tell herself she would be okay with that. Deep down, she wasn't sure. Lorcan grasped her hand and lead her silently through the crowd, heading to the far side of the room, where she presumed she would meet his boss and perhaps the head honcho guy.

"Ah, and there he comes, the proverbial devil who appears at word of his name," said a soft, deadly silky voice and Lorcan paused as a group of older men parted and almost welcomed him in. Across from the blond wizard was a man with dark hair, dark eyes, and long, twisted face. Lily recognized him immediately from his Ministry wanted posters. Antonin Dolohov. "What a delightful treat you've brought," the man said cruelly, and Lily lowered her eyes, a tiny bit terrified, knowing what the man had done in the Wizarding Wars, and since. She also knew he was incredibly smart, and unerringly ruthless, considering he'd murdered a man without even the aid of a wand the last time he'd almost been captured by Aurors. She only prayed to Godric and Merlin and anything holy that he didn't recognize her.

Lorcan forced a bored smirk. "She's more than delightful, in fact," he said easily, and Lily swallowed nervously as he released her hand. His fingers brushed her hair over her shoulders, revealing her breasts in their little purple and black lace prison without distraction.

"You've marked her," said a much deeper, more masculine voice, and Lorcan grit his teeth into a smile. Lily peeked up at the new speaker, seeing a man sitting in the largest, most comfortable looking chair, that was also raised the highest, and bearing a beautiful woman in negligible panties and bra on each arm of his chair. "Why would you bother with that, Scam?"

Lorcan shrugged. "You already know the answer to that, boss. I'm greedy. I don't like any random fucker just thinking they can take my pussy for a ride." Lily tried to quell her temper at that remark, following the pressure of Lorcan's arm to curl into him, the picture of docility, even though she wanted to snap that she wasn't 'his pussy', because that was rude and vulgar. "Don't you feel the same?" Lorcan then pushed, and he smirked genuinely when the boss sat back, looking appeased.

Dolohov, on the other hand, looked skeptical, and Lorcan kept his Occlumency shields firmly in place, just in case a surprise attack came. "Give us a proper look then, Scam." Lily felt her heartbeat stutter as Lorcan easily pulled her from his side and then gave her a gentle nudge forward, and Lily, feeling like she might be sick, glanced hesitantly over her shoulder at Lorcan. His face gave nothing away, brilliant blue eyes dimmed a little, and shook his head the tiniest bit. Lily turned back, steeling herself for whatever was coming, and then looked up at Dolohov properly for the first time, trying her best to keep her mind clear and practice Occlumency just in case. "Come forward then, little krasnyy, don't be so shy," he murmured softly, in a falsely seductive voice. The redheaded witch felt herself falling, almost lulled by the soft notes in his slightly lilting, vaguely Russian accent, but held onto her wits, knowing to get lost in that voice might end up being her undoing.

She bit her tongue against the urge to spit on him and tell him he was Death Eater scum, because she stood zero chance of arresting him. At least, right then. She told herself to bite her tongue and play nice, and, whenever the time came, she'd relish crushing the bastard's skull under her knees while arresting him. "I'm nervous," she admitted, and bit her lip, trying to seem meek and a little coy. "You're all very important wizards," she breathed, sucking in a shaky breath, rife with nerves, that she hoped she could play off as awe and admiration. "And I'm just little old me."

Dolohov's twisted face smirked, and his dark eyes flicked to Lorcan. "Is this why you've been hiding her, my friend?" Lorcan shrugged again, but finally moved to sit at the table as the chair slid out invitingly. He gave Lily another nudge, and she moved forward a couple more steps but still hesitated. "She's not frigid, is she?" he asked, mouth suddenly turning down. "I'd never peg you for the sort who prefers them sobbing and lifeless, Scam."

"It takes her awhile to warm up," he said, and noticed Lily watching him covertly, for a sign he supposed, of what she should do. He couldn't give one, at least not without Dolohov seeing and figuring it out, but said with emphasis, and a seculative glance over Lily, "But when she does, she's a good little pet."

Lily gulped, even as nausea curled sourly in her belly, and swallowed, then moved, very cautiously, closer, but paused again when Dolohov looked at her. "Hmm," he said. "Is this true, little krasnyy? Are you a very good little pet once you're not intimidated by a dozen men ogling you?" he purred.

Lily felt a thick, molten heat, like warmed honey, sliding over her eardrums, begging to unfurl through her, and tried to focus solely on Lorcan. "I try to be," she murmured, and smiled a little. Dolohov, she knew, would be tricky. He was probably used to getting his way, despite seemingly always the sub-lord, never the true ruler of any organized crime ring he happened to be a part of. "You especially make me nervous," she said, deciding the truth would be best, though she hastened to add, lying through her teeth, "I can feel your magical aura, and it's intimidating."

Dolohov's brows lifted, and then the man with a woman either side of him sat forward abruptly, looking furious. Lily could almost feel Lorcan cringing, and fought not to do the same, looking steadily back at the boss of the illegal Potions trading ring she hoped to dismantle, and wondered if he was offended she hadn't appeared as intimidated by him as Dolohov, or because he saw her for the enemy in hiding she was. "And the rest do not?" he snarled.

Lily shook her head, swallowing in terror, and tried to think on her feet. "The rest do too," she squeaked. "But, sir, from you I felt…" She looked away. "Your aura is warmer, more passionate." She looked back up from under her lashes. "Strong, and capable of being terrifying, certainly," she affirmed, watching the man relax slightly once more, "but the sort that burns a witch alive with passion, not terror, should you choose to unleash it upon her." Lily paused, then licked her lips and sucked in a breath. "I wouldn't hesitate should you invite me to come closer to you." The boss smiled a little at that, sitting back once more.

Her hazel eyes darted back to Dolohov, who looked thoughtful, and as if deciding whether or not to be insulted at her words. "She's a good fit for you, Scam," the boss said, waving a dismissive hand, and Lily watched, from her peripherals, the tiny relaxing of Lorcan's shoulders. She took it as a good sign that the head honcho fellow wasn't much interested.

"Thank you," Lorcan said blandly, then smirked sidelong at Dolohov, and brushed his thumb very purposefully along Lily's tattoo. The redhead felt her eyes widen as a gush of molten heat poured through her, making her unbearably wet between her legs as her nipples pebbled and she bit her lip on the soft noise of surprised arousal she would've made otherwise. "Stop licking your chops, Dolohov," Lorcan said, and Lily felt the relief as a palpable weight lifted from her when the blond wizard tugged her into his lap as though he owned her, and she let him.

Lily didn't care, she was unbearably pleased, and relieved beyond measure, that she was allowed to be next to Lorcan, and quickly wound her arms around his neck and shoulders, moulding herself to him, burying her face in his neck and the enticing citrusy spice scent of him. She didn't see Dolohov roll dark eyes.

"I still say frigid," he mumbled, and Lily didn't care. Hell, she'd be a frigid little virgin toward everyone if she had to! She tried to get herself back together, to steel her courage and remind herself she could do this, as she snuggled her wizard, only half listening as the men talked business. But in reality, Lily was pretty close to freaking out. She'd not expected someone like a former Death Eater to be hiding in known illegal activities. But she vowed, in that moment, if she took down Lorcan, she'd bring Dolohov in, too. The bastard had been on the run since he'd been foolishly released from Azkaban prison on parole fifteen years after the second Wizarding War, evaded capture too many times to count now, and was notoriously difficult to pinpoint after being sighted by the Ministry.

And it happened to be convenient, for her anyway, that Dolohov, if she understood the conversation taking place correctly, was technically Lorcan's boss, although if she knew her wizard at all, the blond, hulking man didn't much consider Dolohov above his own station. Lily forced her anxiety aside, listening properly as the men spoke now, still snuggled on Lorcan's lap, head tucked under his chin, face buried in his neck. And without realizing it, Lily relaxed properly as she listened, trying to make sense of their words after only tuning in halfway. "I don't see the bastards ever letting something that clever go through all the proper channels," Lorcan said dismissively.

"You have little experience, Scam," Dolohov said, his voice silky and deadly. "The Ministry is sometimes precisely fool enough to let the odd thing slip through. And I don't doubt my information. They'll try to infiltrate."

"We should, still, be on our guard," a third voice said, and Lily recognized it as the boss. The dark, olive skinned wizard who seemed vaguely familiar, but whom Lily couldn't precisely pinpoint. "I've no doubts the current climate of the Ministry might very well mean your information is true, Dolohov, but you mustn't forget what Scam mentions. The Ministry is all for their proper channels. Rest assured, there won't be cause to storm the ranks, looking for the one who doesn't quite belong. He will be obvious in time."

Lily tried to make sense of what they were saying, and it sounded like they'd gotten some sort of intel that the Ministry planned to try to send a mole into their midst. Lily fought the urge to giggle, because these fools all had no idea, even the fool who probably thought he did upon whose lap she was curled, and she felt a sense of distinct power.

"Very well," Dolohov said grudgingly, and Lily buried her smirk in Lorcan's neck.

"Leave us, Scam," the boss said and although Lily didn't see the dismissive flick of his hand, it was obvious in his tone as much as his words. The redhead felt Lorcan stand her up abruptly, rising in the next moment, and she saw him incline his head.

"Thank you for your time," he said politely, and, although it was his own house, and he could sit wherever he pleased, Lorcan withdrew, taking Lily away by the hand again. The redhead let go of the breath she'd been unconsciously holding when they were finally lost in the crowd of milling guests.

"You owe me big time," she breathed.

Lorcan smirked, squeezing her hand, and rolled blue eyes. "We'll see," he said evasively. Half an hour later they were sneaking to his private suite in the chateau, and Lily couldn't bring herself to care if anyone or everyone bloody well heard her when Lorcan at last brought her to a screaming release.

Lily woke early the next morning, and in the moment she realized it was early, the sun barely making a pearly ripple on the edge of night, she remembered where she was as a hand snaked over her hip. "What-?" she mumbled, and then felt Lorcan's mouth against hers. She surrendered, tasting him, breathing in his scent, groaning as his tongue slid effortlessly into her mouth.

"Time to go, Princess," Lorcan said roughly when he pulled back, and Lily, still dazed from the kiss, blinked.

"Go?" she asked, her brain waking slowly, even as he grasped her hand, having climbed out of bed already, dressing hurriedly. Lorcan nodded.

"Right now, love. Get dressed." He threw her shorts at her and Lily put them on automatically, and picked up her wand from the night stand, having no clue where she'd put her lingerie, sliding off the side of the large, raised bed, half standing, half sitting still. "Shit," Lorcan murmured, pulled her close and tucked her front against himself, even as the door started to open. And then they Apparated, making the redhead feel as though she might puke for a dizzying second when her feet touched solid ground once more. "Fuck me, that was way too close," Lorcan mumbled as they stood in his little cottage in Barfleur.

Lily frowned. "How did you-?"

"Supersensory Security Charms. Anytime someone even comes to the door of the sitting room off the main hall, I get the alarm, if I'm there."

"How did you know who it was?" Lily murmured, because surely if he didn't know it was someone bad, or someone who'd harm them in any way, he'd have just stayed to find out who it was.

"It's ten to five in the morning, Lily," Lorcan rumbled. "There's only one person who would come specifically to my rooms at my chateau at that time of night."

Lily rolled her eyes, because technically it was morning, but the more pressing issue was who!? "And that is?" she demanded when he looked grim.

"Dolohov." Lily felt her skin crawl at the mere mention of the name, recalling his flat, black eyes that seemed devoid of an glinting hints of humanity. "He plays things very close to the vest, but he's taken an interest in my ability to organize and prioritize my little outfit of late." Lorcan didn't seem at all pleased by his technical boss's interest. Lily felt her hands starting to tremble and pulled away from Lorcan to get one of the vials she knew would combat the anxiety and calm her down. "And I doubt, despite his comments, he was entirely disinterested in you either, Princess." His eyes hardened to twin sapphires as her hands shook so bad, breathing shallow and fast, she could hardly unstopper her potion. She downed it in record time. "And the only way that's going to fucking happen is over my dead body," the tall, massive blond said, reaching her in two strides, and crushed Lily to himself, snogging her and lifting her up by the backs of her thighs.

Lily lifted her legs and fit them around his middle and draped her arms around his shoulders as he carried her back toward the bathroom and into the shower that he waved his wand to flick on and set the temperature of. And by the time she was under the hot spray, liquid, chemically induced peace and euphoria spread through her. Lorcan pressed her into the tile gently, her cleavage cupping his jaw lightly as he tilted his head up to snog her, even as her tongue slid, hot and erotic, all over his. It was that precise moment that Lily realized, without a doubt, she was hopelessly and painfully in love with Lorcan Scamander. And even though she didn't want to be, because he was all sorts of wrong, wrong, wrong for her, and he was capable of cold-hearted cruelty, not to mention being stuck in beyond criminal and borderline Dark behaviours, while she was still mostly Light and right, she was. But still, despite every reason not to, Lily knew that she'd do anything for this huge, powerfully built, and so very fierce blond wizard, should he ask it.

She'd already trusted him with her life, and trusted him with her safety. And he'd held them and protected them and shown her a courage and loyalty she wasn't even sure his Gryffindor twin could compete with. She buried her hands in his mane of waving, golden hair as the shower pummeled them with hot water, and when he filled her to the brim with himself, growling her name, even as he stroked her tattoo, Lily clung to her wizard, then dipped her head and bit his tattoo possessively. The redheaded witch couldn't deny it. As much as she was certain she was his, he was definitely hers, and Merlin be fucking damned, she was in love with him.

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