Angelina watches him watching her from across the dance floor. Bodies in pairs slowly grind to the deep bass of some slow retro song she used to know all the lyrics to, seven years ago. Whenever she came here every summer.
Now she's back, thankful for the sticky heat and the humidity allowing her to go days without moisturizing. His eyes are locked on hers and she's not backing out. She started it.
Marcus Flint. Her Hogwarts crush. The ultimate untouchable, impossible, forbidden fruit. Now there's no house rivalry to dictate her behavior.
"You want a drink?" Alicia yells beside her, as she comes back from the bar with two glasses that probably cost her more than the entry fee.
It's Saturday night and ladies enter free before midnight. But Alicia lost her keys and couldn't find her Shea butter so now it's 1 a.m and they just made it in.
"No, I'm good," Angelina replies without once breaking eye contact with Marcus. She always limits herself to one beverage to avoid waiting in line in the filthy restrooms.
A man suddenly sidles next to her, forcing her to look left. He's grinning from obvious heavy drinking. She notices the strong tangy perspiration odor first and the age difference second. He extends his hand for a dance.
She declines promptly. She knows the type. He'll expect her to grind on him and she'll start feeling him getting hard against her thigh, thirty seconds in.
When Angelina glances back at the other side of the room, Marcus is gone.
Now it's unbearably hot, the heat of over a hundred bodies slamming themselves onto each other.
"Hey, I'm going outside for a minute. Do you want to come?"
Alicia doesn't seem to hear everything with the loud beat but she waves at her, busy getting dragged to the dance floor by a cute guy with glasses.
Angelina slaloms through the crowd's shades of perspiration smell, smashing against people, trying to avoid her breasts from being hit by drinks and clutches. Before she can reach the outdoor side of the nightclub, light fingers brush her arm.
"Angelina," the voice says with intention and she turns around to face Marcus.
He doesn't even smile, looking at her with a grave face instead, like this is the most serious thing he's done all night.
He guides her to the middle of the club and gently pulls her closer, carefully watching her reaction. She presses her body into his while his hands fall into place on her back, caressing her skin up and down. She's glad for the backless dress.
His breath smells like her favorite aged rum and his skin like deodorant. Memories flood her like the deep bass of the music.
He drops his head and deepens the embrace, his fingers tracing circles on her shoulder blades.
"I still want you," he whispers between her earlobe and her neck.
She feels her heartbeat race, her skin ice and burn at once. She remembers how blunt he's always been, how he invited her to the Yule ball and she refused because of the color of their robes. He didn't care about that. Not then and certainly not now. But it's too fast, she wants to savor the moment, taste his presence on her skin for more than one dance so she side steps into a question.
"What are you doing here, Marcus?"
His lips leave the vicinity of her neck and he searches her face.
"I'm on vacation for a week before I go back to New Zealand."
As a response, she instantly tightens her arms around his shoulders and touches his nape with her fingers.
It's soft and she wants to kiss it. Instead, she drops her head to his chest and breathes his smell like a madwoman. He lets her.
"It's not too late," he says, lips on her puffy curls. "Tell me it's not too late, Angelina."
She doesn't respond. His hips guide hers into a loop, his thigh right between hers. They turn as the rhythm picks up and it feels so good. She hears the lyrics in her head. Something about a single night and two people who are about to make it theirs.
The bass intensifies and his fingers go up, grabbing the back of her head, enveloping her. His other hand slides on her hip, digging into her flesh, possessive but not eager.
"What are you doing after?" She asks, bold.
He still looks at her with all the seriousness in the world.
"No plans. We can go wherever you'd like," he replies, lips a breath away from her forehead and she has a flash of what domesticity with him would be like.
"I live pretty far. Actually I was going to spend the night at Alicia's..." she stops in her tracks realizing she spoke in past tense, as if she's already decided that her night will not be spent in her best friend's guest room.
She feels stupid for a second because if this is a game, she just lost. But he only tightens his body around hers, pulling her even closer.
"My hotel is right there," he adds simply.
She grabs on his hair this time. Still coarse.
She remembers their first kiss in the astronomy tower, after the Yule ball when Fred left to go prank someone with George. Marcus pressed her against the wall, telling her how beautiful she looked and she gave in, forgetting which house he belonged to. It was raw desire then. Untamed.
It almost feels the same now. The restraint only hanging on by a thread.
"Yeah? Let's go."
He adds pressure behind her head as if to kiss her and the next second, his hand is in hers, his shoulders splitting the crowd. He waves at a group of friends from afar and they nod, their glances sliding on her body.
She doesn't let go of his hand in the parking lot, using him as a crutch because her heels are too high and the ground full of rubble. Marcus opens the passenger door of his rental 4x4 for her. The wheels are dirty so she assumes he's been exploring the mountains, the beaches and maybe the mangrove.
She's in his car now and she realizes they have to talk on the way there but she knows so little about him. What if it gets awkward? What if it kills the mood? Worse, what if he says something so infuriating it becomes a deal breaker?
"What kind of music do you like?" He asks, turning his playlist on.
Dancehall blares in the speaker and he turns it down. It's the polite thing to do, so they can still have a conversation.
She remembers to text Alicia to let her know she's not coming back tonight and turns her location on to share it with her.
"Well I love this song. A little too much actually, it's been on replay in my car for the last two days."
He glances at her from the side, chuckles. She almost loses it.
"Same. Do you prefer the windows down?"
"AC is fine."
He slowly slides his fingers into hers over the arm rest, without looking, eyes focused on the road and she instantly relaxes. She doesn't know much about him but she knows this. She doesn't have to spend days guessing if he's actually interested. He's made it clear and keeps showing her.
They stop at a light and he turns towards her, so serious again. They both lean in for what they've been wanting to do since they locked eyes tonight.
His lips are so soft and his palm on her jaw sends her mind to places she can't wait her body to experience. He tastes fantastic and when they break apart, he's slowly laughing, almost disbelieving,
"You know I've been wanting to do this again since the Yule ball,"
She laughs in return, not wanting to admit the same. She had pushed him out of her head, just remembering him fondly during cocktail hour with her friends or when a romantic comedy played the high school crush trope. So she asks another question.
"What have you been up to all these years?"
He starts talking, his fingers still in hers, his thumb lightly caressing her hand.
—
Angelina Johnson is sitting in his car. He's taking her to his hotel. All he has to do now is not fuck up. Don't fuck up. Don't. Fuck. Up. Marcus.
He's telling her about how he dropped out of college to start his company. How it tanked and he had to start all over. Now he's a contractor.
He catches his reflection in the mirror, realizes mid story that he's been looking at her with this severe face all this time. He flashes her a smile.
He keeps brushing her fingers with his thumb because she looks lightly stressed and also because he wants to feel her. Even this small touch, lets him know that this is real.
"Anyway, a few of my friends came here too. Not sure you remember some of them. Adrian Pucey, Warrington. And you stayed friends with Spinnet?"
"Yes, pretty close still. So it's your second day and you're already clubbing?"
"I was persuaded. Not really my thing, especially since I wake up early for a volcano hike."
Her hand tenses up and he instantly regrets saying it. She's going to think they're in a rush so he corrects himself right away. "But I can do it another day, it's not a priority, really."
Angelina Johnson, sitting in his car is his priority.
"Do you have a hiking stick? It's been raining two days ago so some spots might be muddy."
'Nope."
And she laughs. He pulls up in the parking lot. "How long have you been here?"
"My parents are from here. I used to come every summer. Now I'm taking a quarter life gap year," she says with the face of someone waiting for the usual backlash.
He comes around the car and takes both her hands, dropping his forehead on hers. "I'm really glad you are."
She smiles against his face and kisses him right there, her addictive scent overpowering his senses. He deepens the kiss, his tongue finding hers before she lightly sucks at his bottom lip.
His dick twitches. He wants to know more about her, hear her talk but he also wants to be inside her more than anything else he can think of. Matter of fact his mind almost goes blank when he touches the back of her head as he keeps kissing her and hears a furtive moan coming from her.
Fuck. He needs to find his key card right now. He reluctantly pulls away and her eyes say everything when he looks at her. They pass the reception desk, mumble a greeting and hurry into the elevator, giggling.
He can't keep his hands off her body, preferably the parts without any fabric. She seems to love the feeling of his hair and his back.
By the time they reach his room and the door automatically slams behind them, his shirt is on the floor and her dress' knotted strings behind her neck undone.
"Wait," she says and he stops everything, heart racing.
So he waits for her to say something, tell him she's changed her mind. And he would drive her back, thank her for even letting him taste her lips.
"I need to know something..."
"Okay. Anything."
He'd probably reveal any secrets he possesses right now if she asks.
"You're not in a relationship with anyone are you? I never want to be the other w.."
"No. I'm not. Are you?"
If she is, he's not sure he'd care. He'd like to think he would but Marcus is a realistic guy and her ass in that dress is pretty much ruining his moral compass.
"No."
"Good."
This is settled but he waits still, hands to himself.
"Tell me again," she whispers.
"What?"
"The second thing you said to me tonight."
There's a smile tugging at the right side of her lips that she's trying to suppress and that drives him even crazier.
He takes two steps and says it low but clear. Intentional with it, so she knows, so she remembers when they're no longer in the same room and get back on with their lives. "I still want you."
She peels back the top of her dress, stopping at her hips, carefully watching his reaction. He's out of breath now and not sure who closed the distance first but he's holding her, his mouth on her shoulder, trying to muster some self-control.
She tastes sweet and salty and he wants more. Like soap, sweat and coconut oil. His teeth scrape at her in a groan when she unbuckles his belt and grabs the full girth of his dick. He feels her smile against his cheek at the discovery and that makes him want to push into her against this very wall. But he wants to give her more to remember him by. She deserves more than a fuck.
He slides down the rest of her dress as she jiggles out of it and grabs two handfuls of her butt cheeks, slightly spreading them in another groan as she moans louder this time.
Fuck, her ass feels amazing. And he hasn't even seen it yet. She takes his clothes off and he remembers to help her. Her nails purposely scrape at his skin when she gets back up after guiding his jeans down. Her tongue darts out, slowly tracing the outline of his dick on the way up. She's standing in front of him now, her palm on his balls, with that daring smile of hers, now fully spread on her face.
That's it. He unleashes his current urge and picks her up by the thighs, to deposit her on the console before stopping mid air, holding her tight.
"Is this ok?" he says. "I cleaned all the furniture with disinfectant wipes when I checked in."
She throws herself on his lips like she can't wait one more second before pulling back. "Yes. Yes."
He looks at her, there in his room and slowly kisses her body, from her arm to her breasts. He stays longer on her rib cage and her stomach because she has access to his hair and she's enjoying it. He licks her pelvis where the hair starts and lightly bites at her inner thighs while her breathing becomes heavy. She stops watching him to throw her head back, eyes closed in the moment. He does this for a while, just lost in her scent, getting familiar.
She spreads her legs to give him access and he looks up to see her nod. So he dives, his entire tongue covering her fleshy lips and she tastes better than he imagined.
—
She cries out as he applies one last suction to her clit, lazily licking around now that her muscles relax. She catches her breath, watching him diligently taste and swallow all the juices between her legs.
"Come here," she breathes but he doesn't hear. "Come here," she repeats and he gets back up with a smug face, hands on her waist. He confesses what's been on his mind the whole time.
"I want to taste you after you come back from the beach, and before you go to work, but mostly while you're spread out on the couch, relaxing."
He smiles as he says it in her ear because he knows what this does to her. She brings him closer with her feet, applying pressure on his lower back and stares at his reflection through the mirror. He's built like an athlete, always has been. She thought he'd go into a professional career but he didn't even mention it.
She sees his triceps tense up as he leans on the console and she can't help but touch them. His entire body is hard from shoulders and chest, to arms and dick. He's more than a crush now and she has him between her legs, the tip of him brushing the entrance of her vagina, making her brace herself.
This is really not the time to tell him that's she's never had good vaginal sex, that she's scared of being disappointed yet again. That she might not come because, although she's always had relatively selfish lovers, she's really started to think something's wrong with her. She hesitates and secures his position around her.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing," she quickly counters.
She feels like crying now because this is so good and rare and everything is perfect and she's ruining it with her spiraling thoughts.
He kisses her cheeks. "Tell me. Please."
He's so gentle which is a paradox with his stature, his strength. How do you tell the man you're two seconds away from taking inside you, you're not sure if you're even capable of climaxing that way.
Boldness worked in her favor so far. He likes that about her. He told her before. Right after kissing her seven years ago.
"Please don't last four minutes like all my previous ones." And she doesn't lower her eyes when he reacts.
She feels his abs contract against her fingertips as he genuinely chuckles.
"Angelina, hear me when I say this," he begins with that grave face. "I will make sure you come tonight. Again."
She drops her forehead to his shoulder and sighs. His fingers trails on the back of her neck as he whispers. "We're not leaving this room until your pussy repeatedly clenches around my dick."
She gasps despite herself, the words making her lower lips throb and ache for him.
He guides her down the piece of furniture and onto the king size bed, pulling down the covers. She watches him go grab a condom from the bathroom before joining her on the bed.
She crawls over him, both legs on either side of his hips, his fingers digging in her skin, trying the capture the entirety of her body. He's still hard against her thighs and with one push, he could be inside her if she wanted. He only looks at her, his lower body still and expectant. But that's not how she wants it. So she slides down and takes him in her mouth instead, drawing a surprised exclamation from him as his hands clasp on her shoulders. Her lips glide up and down. She swirls her tongue and squeezes his length with both hands. He lets out a few curses and exhales her name in a tone that says it all as she takes his full length in her mouth, holding him in the back of her throat for a few seconds.
She releases him with a thread of thick saliva and he rolls on top of her right away, kissing her as sloppily as she sucked him.
"Hold on." She scoots back and plops a few pillows behind her back so she can sit and remain slightly elevated before pulling him close.
With ease, he slings her legs on his shoulders while she holds herself on her forearms. She offers him a knowing smile which he mirrors. They both know what this position means. Depth.
She wants to feel all of him. He anchors himself on her hips and holds her as she inches herself on his tip. His hand travels up her back so he can secure her position and lock eyes with her. She licks her lips nodding for him. He pushes deep inside her, filling her up in a delicious moan. She lets out a whine he manages to capture in a brush of his lips. He stays there, breathing heavy before she starts rolling her hips on him, owning the feeling. She's driving him to the brink of madness, she sees it his eyes. Pupils dilated, nostrils flared.
She's about to go mad herself if he doesn't start moving and he knows it. He pulls out and thrusts back in a groan that makes her body shudder. His body pushes lower upon her, her thighs falling on her breasts as she grabs the headboard, her moans escaping with every deep pump. He sucks at her nipples and she cries, pleasure waves taking over her.
"So gushy, so tight..." he whispers in her neck as she catches her breath.
"Men say that to every woman they fuck..." she jokes.
He thrusts into her and holds himself there, making her dig her nails in his back.
"I don't,' he says, carefully looking at her. He drops to her ear again. "And we're not fucking."
With that, he pushes his palms on her thighs, giving himself all control so that she can't move her hips, digging into her faster, making her cry out.
The familiar waves of pleasure climb up as the pressure inside her intensifies. This is usually where it all stops, leaving her frustrated and sad. She grabs at him breathless. "Don't stop."
Sweat drips from his hair on her stomach. His muscles glisten in the light.
"I'm not stopping," he reassures her, his rhythm still going strong. "I'm right here. Take your time." His lips brush her eyelids and his forehead falls on hers so he can look into her eyes once more.
She's sure then. He's not just a crush and she's not just a fuck. She sucks on his neck and he bites hers as she watches his dick go in and out of her. She losses control of her legs, trembling around Marcus who picks up his pace in response, deepening his thrusts.
She barely hears him murmur. "Come for me, baby."
The final wave crashes into her, sending her to shore. In two more thrusts, Marcus joins her, grabbing at her hair with desperation and pushing into her with the force of dedication. She feels him pulse inside her, his moan resonating in her ears for days after.
She rakes his hair back, letting him recoup on her breasts.
—-
He stays inside her, really not eager to pull out but the condom must be getting uncomfortable for her, plus he's too tired to hold himself and way too heavy to let his entire weight fall on her. He leans back, pulling out and drops back next to her.
Her skin is glowing with the light of the skyline coming through the window. She's so fucking beautiful and her body is everything he dreamt of. And he dreamt of a lot of things before that let him down in the end. He watches her legs shake, as she takes the last waves of pleasure and puts his hand on her sticky thigh.
"Is it weird that I feel fucking exhausted and energized at the same time?"
She turns her head toward him, keeping her body still and watches him with those thankful, satisfied eyes. "I'm hungry."
He caresses her stomach, rolling over to her sided the bed. "I have gum in the drawer. Those do last thirty seconds though."
He smiles and she smiles back. Silly pillow jokes.
"If you're still up for it, I can take you to a street food stand that opens at 6 a.m. on your way to the hike."
"It's 3:30 in the morning," he points out. "Are you going to make it?"
"Well, we're not going to find anything open on this island at this hour and room service isn't 24/7. So, I guess I'll have to find something else to occupy my mind."
He pulls her into his arms. "Tell me what happened to you. After Hogwarts. What did I miss?"
She brushes her fingers on his jaw, sudden sadness clouding her eyes. He's thought about it too. His departure in a few days.
"Nothing. Your timing's pretty perfect. I was thinking about visiting other places on this sabbatical of mine. I hear New Zealand is a good place to start."
She slides her leg on his hip and he lifts himself a little to get a glance of her butt.
"Perfect indeed," he agrees.