Disclaimer: I'm not JK Rowling, and I'm not making any money off this. So
don't sue me.
A/N: This is just a short little thing, more a descriptive exercise than anything else, but I hope you like it nonetheless!
Remus Lupin is a reticent man, but when it comes to lovemaking, he is a connoisseur of the sensual. He suspects it may have something to do with being a werewolf. His senses are, after all, much more acute than the average human's. And being with her...it's like a feast.
He can smell her from far away, before he sees her, hears her even. She smells like spices, a little wild and exotic, and it takes his breath away to know that she wears the perfume he gave her, the one that always reminds him of her. But underneath that he can smell her very essence, sweet and warm like a garden in spring.
He hears her, her ungainly steps, and a crash as she stumbles into something. Her voice, distressed, profuse apologies muttered. One of the twins cracks a joke, and her laugh rings through the house, and straight to his heart.
Then he sees her as she enters the room. She lights it up, he thinks to himself. Her smile, her very presence lightens the darkest mood. Today her hair is long and blond, framing her heart-shaped face perfectly. She meets Remus' eyes and smiles that smile reserved just for him, promising so much. He can't help but grin in return.
It isn't until later that Remus can indulge his favorite senses. Touching her is like nothing else on earth. Warm and silky-soft everywhere, unblemished by time or injury, so different from his own. He is scarred in more ways than one, and as always at this moment, he asks himself the question: Why me? What did I do to deserve such as this? As always, the question goes unanswered.
Taste. Her mouth tastes like chocolate-covered cherries. He doubts it really tastes like that, but the first time they kissed she had been eating a chocolate cake with cherries on it, so he supposed the memory of it lingers with him every time they kiss.
They break apart and Remus trails his mouth lower, past her jaw, down her neck, nipping at her collarbone, suckling at her breasts, loving the sounds she makes as he explores her body with his mouth. He trails down lower and lower, until he reaches his favorite place to taste, besides her mouth.
Down here she tastes hot and musky with a hint of spice. He loves to pleasure her orally, he loves to see her taking her pleasure from him, knowing he is the one who can make her back arch up like that, he is the one who can make her whimper his name and beg him to please take me now!
So he does. And his senses are overwhelmed with want and need...and love.
A/N: This is just a short little thing, more a descriptive exercise than anything else, but I hope you like it nonetheless!
Remus Lupin is a reticent man, but when it comes to lovemaking, he is a connoisseur of the sensual. He suspects it may have something to do with being a werewolf. His senses are, after all, much more acute than the average human's. And being with her...it's like a feast.
He can smell her from far away, before he sees her, hears her even. She smells like spices, a little wild and exotic, and it takes his breath away to know that she wears the perfume he gave her, the one that always reminds him of her. But underneath that he can smell her very essence, sweet and warm like a garden in spring.
He hears her, her ungainly steps, and a crash as she stumbles into something. Her voice, distressed, profuse apologies muttered. One of the twins cracks a joke, and her laugh rings through the house, and straight to his heart.
Then he sees her as she enters the room. She lights it up, he thinks to himself. Her smile, her very presence lightens the darkest mood. Today her hair is long and blond, framing her heart-shaped face perfectly. She meets Remus' eyes and smiles that smile reserved just for him, promising so much. He can't help but grin in return.
It isn't until later that Remus can indulge his favorite senses. Touching her is like nothing else on earth. Warm and silky-soft everywhere, unblemished by time or injury, so different from his own. He is scarred in more ways than one, and as always at this moment, he asks himself the question: Why me? What did I do to deserve such as this? As always, the question goes unanswered.
Taste. Her mouth tastes like chocolate-covered cherries. He doubts it really tastes like that, but the first time they kissed she had been eating a chocolate cake with cherries on it, so he supposed the memory of it lingers with him every time they kiss.
They break apart and Remus trails his mouth lower, past her jaw, down her neck, nipping at her collarbone, suckling at her breasts, loving the sounds she makes as he explores her body with his mouth. He trails down lower and lower, until he reaches his favorite place to taste, besides her mouth.
Down here she tastes hot and musky with a hint of spice. He loves to pleasure her orally, he loves to see her taking her pleasure from him, knowing he is the one who can make her back arch up like that, he is the one who can make her whimper his name and beg him to please take me now!
So he does. And his senses are overwhelmed with want and need...and love.
