You guys know how I told you on tumblr (tiffanytoms) that their first time would be inspired by the sex scene from the movie Troy? It's here...

Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter. Art work by the super talented blvnk-art (tumblr) aka potterbyblvnk (insta)

Song: Toxic by 2WEI

The Mistake

They were in the Slytherin dungeons again; why were they in the Slytherin dungeons… again?

It had been so weird to be invisible, to gasp when Peeves rounded the corner in the Entrance Hall and have James shush her, right in her ear because he was holding her below his face, telling her that the poltergeist couldn't see them and to just remain quiet. She wanted to scream; but she supposed Potter's calming charm had put a damper on her more reckless impulses. It was so cruel, so unbelievably unfair, to be resting her head against his chest while she was in his arms, hearing the rhythmic thudding of a heart she now knew would never be hers. After all, hearts made of ice couldn't love, could they?

And now they were here — Potter carrying her through his dorm room where most of the Death Eaters she'd just seen in the forest were preparing for bed. Lily guessed that Potter didn't want to interact with them anymore, because he walked the two of them right to his bathroom and locked the door, before depositing her to her feet and removing the Invisibility Cloak.

Their bathroom was nothing like her Gryffindor one was. In Gryffindor, everything was curved — it came with the territory of being housed in a spire, but here, they lived in a sea of hard lines and rectangles. The left side of the bathroom was just a solid wall of glass, magically lit by the water of the lake on the other side. This is where the showers were, a string of overhead faucets, with no dividers between them. Lily briefly wondered if this was a male thing, or a difference among houses. Maybe having zero shame or modesty wasn't how Potter had been born, but rather bred.

"Let's clean you up," Potter spoke softly, banishing her ripped and ruined stockings, and gently pulling her green dress up over her thighs, her stomach, and arms, leaving her solely in her underthings. It was a move she would have killed for him to do at the end of their date, terrible choice of words there, Lils. She regretted wanting that, and the whole date in general, so damn much.

Lily couldn't believe she'd matched her underwear for him. She couldn't believe matching her yellow knickers to her sunshine bra was something she'd cared about less than six hours prior. She remained silent, numb and in shock, as he pulled her to the showers, turning on a jet and stepping inside. Lily was so out of it, that she hadn't even noticed that he'd stripped completely up until now, something that would have sent a brilliant thrill through her earlier and not have been just another wicked joke — mocking her former (upsettingly still current) desire to fuck him silly. Don't look, don't you dare look down.

"Come 'ere," he soothed, pulling her under the warm stream, grabbing a freshly laundered washcloth from a nearby stack and lathering it up with soap. Potter tentatively rubbed the cloth over her body, buffing away the dirt, grim, and vomit, before spinning her around and pausing. Lily understood why when she saw the water at her feet circle the drain with her dried up crimson blood, flaking off of her former gash.

"Be careful. My blood is dirty," she said challengingly, swaying on the spot ever since he'd released his hold on her. She wanted a confrontation with him, she needed one — well, she needed anything that would remind her that they weren't on the same side and that she was nothing like him, and would never be.

He knew what she was doing. "I'm not fighting you, Evans. Not tonight."

"Why?" She turned back to him, leaning onto the glass wall behind her for support. "Too good for it?" She wrapped her lips around the last T, trying to impersonate just how much he often enunciated the shit out of his words. She saw his jaw clench, the muscle in his temple controlling it pulsing madly. "I'm a Mudblood, remember?"

His eyes flashed and he removed his glasses, throwing them to the sink, so water splatters wouldn't obstruct his view of her. "I've already told you, Evans. That stuff doesn't matter to me."

She sneered at him before looking over his shoulder to a mirror. "Looked like it mattered tonight."

"Come on, you're smarter than that," he replied, knowing just the words to say to get her attention back on him. The shower had water dripping so appetizingly down his face — glueing locks of hair to his forehead — and around his brow, making sexy little rivulets that traveled down his chiseled chest.

Don't.

"It's not about who they are to me, but about their support system. Having Muggle parents makes it easier to use them as practice."

She couldn't help it: "What the hell are you talking about?"

Potter reached for a bottle of shampoo, depositing a dollop in his palm before spinning Lily back around and massaging it into her scalp. She tried her damn hardest not to drop her head back against his shoulder because of how good his agile fingers felt. "Think about it. If someone like Emma Vanity woke up without a recollection of the past three hours of her life, do you know what would happen?" Lily didn't need to know the girl well to know that basically heaven and earth would be moved for her. "Her parents would find out about it and within minutes they'd have Dumbledore's head on a platter, with five recommendations for who should replace him as headmaster. There would be an inquiry, there would be Aurors crawling around every corner of this castle, hell, there would be Dementors guarding the gates." Potter pulled her back so her hair was under the water's stream, washing the suds out. "But with someone like Ernie… or Malcolm?" Lily swallowed, knowing his message just before he conveyed it. "It would take a couple days to tell their parents, if they even called it in in the first place, and then what?" His hands got stuck on a knot and he pulled his fingers free, tentatively working their way back to untangle the mess, hair my hair, not wanting to hurt her in the slightest. "They'd have no idea how our legal system works. They don't know that erasing memories is dark magic. They'd just see that their kid is physically unharmed, but a little shaken, but that's fine, because Muggles hardly believe in mental health as it is."

Oh my god. He was so much more evil than she'd ever even imagined. He is so much worse.

"So, they make for great practice. We always heal them though, I insist on that." Does he want a fucking cookie?! "They never remember a thing, well, they don't normally. Ernie was a fuckup because I let Mulciber do the memory charm, and it turns out he's really bad at them. Plus we're trying to stick to just using guys now, because girls seem to have a sort of sixth sense about tampering. This is actually our third time using Malcolm, so clearly our system works most of the time."

Lily shivered, not knowing what the fuck she was supposed to be doing right now. Did she run, did she hid? Did she turn around and try to strangle Potter to death with her own bare hands? She felt like a gnat stuck in a web, about to be swallowed whole by a spider that was enjoying shaking her in its web on its slow crawl over to devour her.

Potter must have felt her body tremble, because he misinterpreted it and reached for the temperature gauge, bumping it up a couple degrees. "They might feel a bit sore, but it's sort of like fish, isn't it? Muggles do that, don't they?" Was he trying to relate by sharing torture stories with her? Lily didn't have any. "I read that they do that. They skewer fishes' mouths with metal hooks, yank them out, and then throw them back in the water. For practice, just like we have to do. We can't be expected to go out on missions blind, it wouldn't be safe. But at least we fix up our fish before we release them back. We take away their pain." Potter's hands travelled down Lily's slick arms, still behind her. "I can do the same for you. If you'd like."

Lily slapped his hands off of her, pulling herself free and moving her back against the cool comfort of the glass wall once more. She wanted to keep her eyes on him — she had to see what he was up to at all times. She could vaguely see some sort of lake monster swim by in the murky depths of the water, casting a shadow that moved through the bathroom before darkening half of Potter's face for a few seconds. She wished the monster would break through the glass and free her from having to spend another second in Potter's presence. "No."

"It was only an offer—"

"Do not steal these memories from me," Lily demanded staunchly.

"Okay. I won't." Potter's gaze was unwavering, as usual. "But I think you know I can't let you tell anyone what you saw tonight."

Lily grit her teeth together. Yeah, she figured he'd say something like that. "Or what?"

"Well," Potter leaned over her, propping his right forearm against the glass beside her head, "because then I'll have to take retaliatory action." It turned out Potter seduced her in much the same way he threatened her, and Lily's body was not prepared to handle that information. Her eyes dropped to his lips right in front of her and back up. "After you report it, probably to someone lovely and dependable like your favorite professor Minnie, she will have an unfortunate accident in the stairway, snapping her neck, and perishing before anyone can get her to the infirmary on time." He leaned in closer, his hips, his naked hips, pressing against hers. She wasn't going to notice a single thing about his cock now, she wasn't. Her eyes fluttered. "Or, say you tell Dumbledore, wise old man that he is, but then the next day an exposé of his rash, unscrupulous school days gets published to The Prophet, and suddenly no one cares about something as trivial as a bunch of school boys just being boys. Not when our dear, messiah of a headmaster did far, far worse in this youth." Lily had heard the rumors: she knew some people said that Dumbledore had at one point in time been just as loyal to Grindelwald as Potter was to Voldemort. She'd always assumed it was utter hogwash, but what if it wasn't?

Potter's free hand came up to her hair, so much darker soaked in water, and twirled a lock around his finger. "Even if word got out, our parents hold majority in the school board. There will be no real consequences for us, but for you and Lupin…" Leaving the statement open-ended was so much scarier than anything he could have told her.

"You're s-sick," Lily stuttered, pressing herself as flat against the glass, and as far away from him, as she could. "You're insane." Her wide eyes roamed all over his face, trying to find any marker that should have clued her in to this fact sooner. Are perfectly symmetrical features a sign of the devil? Or maybe his high, aristocratic cheekbones should have warned me of inbreeding and an underdeveloped brain and sense of morality? "You're a fucking psychopath," she whispered.

His brow scrunched, as if contemplating her assessment. "Am I? Do you really think so?"

"Yes." As if she needed even a second to think about it. "Yes, of course you are—"

"You didn't think so on our date. In fact, it seemed as though you saw a future with me." He licked his lips right in her face, so unfairly. "You wanted one."

"I didn't know that—!" Lily started to protest, but he cut her off.

"That what? That what, Evans? That I was a Death Eater? That this is what I do?" He smiled. "You knew. You were perfectly fine with knowing what I did, until I brought it home. Until you had to see it."

"That's not true, I didn't know it was so bad—" she tried fighting him.

He laughed in her face. "Really? I seem to recall a certain article driving you up a wall a few weeks ago. You knew I was there. You knew I killed Muggles there." Oh my god… The image of the trashed music festival flashed before her eyes. She had no defense for trusting him again after that, and he knew it. "Look. I get it, I do. You got the short end of the stick. But I already told you: none of this is about being Muggle-born." Did he really think that that was the part she was hung up on? Who he was torturing and killing instead of the fact that he was doing it at all? "Even the Dark Lord barely cares about that — he isn't a Pureblood. You guys were just made into scapegoats. It isn't right, but it's the only way. As long as you can create a common enemy, one without any nepotism in the government, and you can convince people that they're the real problem… you can get the general population to do just about anything. We tried only going after Muggles, like we originally wanted to, but the threat didn't feel imminent enough. Most people barely have any interactions with them in their everyday lives… but Muggle-borns?" He gave her a small grin, as though he couldn't help himself even in the midst of a deranged rant. "You guys are here, the hottest and smartest witches in our society, in our schools… tempting our Pureblood ways…" He unfurled the lock of hair, dragging his hand down, his knuckles grazing over the cup of her bra, making her shiver.

Lily pushed him off of her, about to lose her soddening mind. "You're fucking crazy," she said, eyes oscillating between his, seeing the intensity of his conviction burn there.

He staggered back a couple steps, looking unperturbed as he reached for a towel, wrapping it around his ripped stomach before slowly putting his glasses back on. "I'm not crazy, love. I just see that the winds of our world are shifting, and I know where the best place to land is."

"Fine. Then you're a selfish git."

"Doubtful. Since I'm doing this for us. I decide who we go after. And we'll never go after you." His eyes were blazing with a crazed power-hungry glow that Lily had never seen before and hoped to never, ever see again.

Lily had to leverage this somehow — she had to do something. "Promise me you won't attack anyone else in school. Promise me," she begged breathlessly. This negotiation was too important to fuck up, and she knew she was showing all her cards, but it literally felt like do or die.

"Lily," he sighed condescendingly as he got out a little pot from under the sink and unscrewed it, "you're really in no position to make any demands here." He shut off the shower and spun her around again; Lily thought he was playing pretty fast and loose with her physical boundaries.

Lily accidentally let her groan of relief ring out when Potter rubbed whatever magical ointment was in the pot liberally over her cursed scar. She quickly looked over her shoulder, just in time to watch all traces of the scab disappear before her eyes. "What is that?!" Lily knew from studying healing that something so powerful had to be truly rare.

"The Dark Lord had it made. It's pretty handy with how dangerous our field is. Instantly gets rid of scars."

Lily's blood boiled. Did he have any idea how beneficial something like this would be in the hands of their side? No, not even that, in the hands of healers and nurses, and people who actually cared about the overall health of the population? That Death Eaters were hoarding this advanced magic for themselves was just one more drop in the ocean showing how evil they were. Lily tried grabbing for the salve, if only so she could attempt to deduce its ingredients, but he chuckled and raised it over her head, out of reach.

"I don't have a lot of it unfortunately, so try not to get hurt again."

The audacity. "Well then, rein in your hounds," she snapped back.

The smile died on his face. "I am sorry about that. Bella will be punished for attacking you."

Lily huffed, face incredulous as she took a few steps back from him. "You really don't get it, do you?" He looked at her blankly. "I'm one of them. I am a Muggle-born too. You can't apologize to me about getting attacked when you're attacking everyone else like me!"

"Lily—"

"No! I know you don't care, but I do. So, promise me you'll fucking stop using us as practice dummies! Promise me you won't hurt anyone else in school!" She knew she wouldn't really be enacting any real change, and that if they couldn't test out their skills in the castle, they'd probably just go to the nearest Muggle town over and practice on the locals there — only this time, maybe even more brutally, because they saw Muggles as worse than scum — but she had to do something. She wouldn't be able to look her classmates in the eye, the very same people she saw every day, knowing that they could be getting hurt that night while she was doing nothing. How would she be able to live with herself?

His mouth was drawn into a narrow line. "Fine. We'll stop practicing on classmates. Happy?"

Barely.

He took her lack of response as tacit agreement. "All right, let's go to bed."

"What?" Lily screeched, caught completely by surprise. There was no way he actually thought she'd be staying with him tonight. She made a sopping wet beeline for the door and yanked on the handle with all her might, willing her arms to be stronger than his locking spell. "Let me the fuck out of here," she yelped when the door didn't budge at all.

"No, Lily. You've had a rough night. I have to make sure that you're okay," he told her quietly.

"Bullshit, I won't be okay as long as I'm trapped here with the likes of you!"

"Fuck, it's wearing off," Potter muttered while pinching the bridge of his nose, before retrieving his wand. "You really are too stubborn for your own good."

Lily knew what he was talking about and seconds away from doing. "No, no, don't you—" But it was too late; he'd already hit her with another calming spell, leaving her dull and slightly numb.

He came over to her and wiped away her fresh tears. "Do you get why I didn't want you to see everything? Why I tried to hide this part of me from you?" He sounded gentle again, pained, as he cupped her cheeks. "I don't want to hurt you, Lily. I've never wanted to hurt you."

She slowly tilted her face up to him. "I hate you." Her voice was shaky, but she knew her declaration was solid.

He held her for a moment, having a delayed reaction as the words finally soaked through him. "Oh yeah? Is that how feelings work? You can just shut them off overnight?" She fucking wished that she could; it sure wasn't from lack of wanting to. "You should teach me how to do that sometime," he threw out venomously. He'd meant it to sting, but Lily thought he'd accidentally revealed so much with that statement.

It looked like they both really wished they weren't as into each other as they were.

Potter opened a closet and threw the first tee-shirt from his shelf he could find at her. "Put this on. My toothbrush is the blue one on the left." With that, he picked up his discarded Invisibility Cloak, opened the door, and stormed out of it with a slam.

Lily immediately sunk to the floor crying, wondering what the hell she was supposed to do now, and just how much she'd be sobbing without Potter's magical interference. With her adrenaline suppressed because of his stupid spell, none of her usual brilliant fight or flight solutions came to her and she was only left to halfheartedly berate herself for having snuck out of Gryffindor without telling anyone and now being trapped in this underwater hellhole until Potter let her go. She numbly went to the toilet, brushed her teeth (ignoring how insanely domestic it was to be using his brush, but really not wanting to risk accidentally using Mulciber's out of spite instead), and stripped off her drenched underthings, throwing on his oversized shirt and curling back into a ball next to the door. She hoped he'd forget about her and just let her be.

She felt like an idiot. Such a fucking idiot. She'd fallen for him, and possibly even more inexcusable than that, she'd trusted him. Believed that there had been good in him. What did that say about her as a person?

Potter sighed and picked her back up when he found her in the same position ten minutes later, carrying her over to his bed and tucking her in before climbing by her side. Lily fell into a restless sleep with him stroking her hair not too long after, too exhausted from the emotional upheaval to do anything else.

Lily awoke as if she'd just been punched in the gut several hours later, discombobulated as hell. But once she got her bearings, all the rage that had been stolen from her twice by Potter's wand hit her in full force. With breathtaking certainty, she knew what she had to do.

She had to kill James Potter.

He had to be stopped; he was too dangerous to be left unchecked, and as he'd just so cruelly pointed out only hours before — there were very few people who actually could. He was too connected, too powerful, too skilled at dueling… too charming. Yet here he lay on his back — one hand on his sternum with the other tucked under his pillow behind him, with his bedsheet skimming just up to his hipbones — unconscious and unguarded, looking like an angel straight out of her darkest nightmares. Lily could be the one to end this. Lily could take down Voldemort's protégé, his recruiter, his one-man army trainer. But she had to do it now — while she had the chance.

As quietly as she could, she pulled open his bed curtains just a crack, bathing them in the murky green glow of the lake, and looked for his wand on his bedside table. It wasn't there, but there was a dagger. It seemed almost like poetic justice to slaughter Potter with a tool designed by Muggles. She grabbed it and turned back to him, perching her knees on either side of his thighs above his sheet, being careful not to jostle him. Killing him while he was out would be the most humane way to go about this after all.

She positioned the blade tip above his heart, ready to plunge down, but then remembered that he had none, not really. Besides, when he awoke and took his final dying breath, he could still scream. Lily would prefer to at least stand a chance of getting out of this dorm room unharmed, even if her life would effectively be over the second she left. So she leaned forward, ready to place the dagger against his throat.

Potter's eyes snapped open as if sensing the oncoming danger, or perhaps just her straddling him, and one moment of hesitation, and the skip of a single heartbeat, was all it took to ruin everything for Lily. Because when Potter awoke, surprised, but oddly alert, he didn't look at her with malice, or hatred, or any of the other things she'd associated with him in the past few hours. He was looking at her like she'd hung the moon. As if Lily was the woman of his dreams, come to life, and ready to make all of them come true. It was the same way he'd looked at her those first few years as children, before all the Mudblood versus Pureblood bullshit had taken hold, and the same way they'd looked at each other on their date.

Lily suddenly became painfully aware of just how hard he already was beneath her, evidence that she'd roused him from a very good dream indeed. He had to be naked under the sheet; why did Potter always sleep naked?!

She watched as the innocent bliss of his expression morphed back into his usual mask of indifference when he realized just what she was holding in her hand. "I see my spell wore off again," he drawled, his Adam's apple bobbing the blade up and down.

She wouldn't let him sweet-talk his way out of this one; she couldn't. "Any last words?" Lily asked, definitely not stalling.

The small sliver of light coming in through the parting of the curtains illuminated only the right side of his face, yet it was enough for Lily to see his eyes, and all the emotions he tried to hide there. "Do it," he goaded her, just like she'd done in the forest when he'd threatened her with Imperio.

Was he calling her bluff? Or did he know that murdering him would be something she could never come back from? It would be something that would destroy her completely — and it would be what I deserve? Her right hand shook, and she watched in horror as a little blood trickled from the shallow cut she was carving out of his skin with her nerves.

He looked angry. "Do it, Evans. If you really believe a world without me would be so much better of a place, then do it. Take me out of it."

She knew she couldn't do it. She had known ever since he'd opened his gorgeous eyes, but she still wished she could. She still wished she could have done this one thing right for the Order and for all of Wizarding, and Muggle, kind.

But instead, she felt James' hands come up, gripping onto her shoulders to pull her down against him before flipping them over, settling on top of her. How is this happening? In what alternative universe is he allowed to even try to pull this move on me? But it was happening, and it was real, and Lily still had the blade hard against Potter's throat.

His brows furrowed together as he pushed down the tangle of his sheet, off of his waist, and clawed her shirt up, feeling her bare skin against his own body. "Lily…" he breathed, leaning down over the dagger, as if it wasn't even there, to kiss her, hot and heavy, tongue demanding entrance as his fingers felt down below, finding her already dripping for him.

Oh fuck, was one of the last coherent thoughts she had as he pulled back just enough to look at her, silently pleading with her to give in to him just one more time. Lily's mind raged, wanting to follow through with her plans, which she could theoretically still execute — she had the knife there, ready to slice — but she wanted him more. "Please," she whispered.

Potter wasted no time pushing himself into her, immediately moving her wrist from his throat and pinning it above her head so she wouldn't drop the dagger onto herself. Seconds later, the clattering of it falling to the ground told him he'd made the right decision. Lily moaned beneath him, throwing her head back into the pillow as she felt his cock inside of her for the first time.

"Fuck, Lils," he groaned, leaning forward to bite her shoulder as he pulled out only to plunge right back into her heat once more. "You feel so fucking good."

He was inside of her. James Potter was inside of her, and her whimpers were the only thing that kept her from screaming. This isn't right, this isn't normal… but why does it feel so amazing? For the life of her, she couldn't understand how she still wanted him badly enough to have just begged him to fuck her. She could feel him throbbing within her as she flexed her cunt, trying to acclimate to the stretch that was making her senses, heart, and soul positively reel. How was she letting him put a piece of his body into hers as though everything she'd seen last night hadn't happened? How could she ignore—

"Breathe, Lily. Just breathe," he commanded, hovering on top of her, slowly grinding his hips, making her body sing.

Lily wanted none of that. She yanked her wrist free from his grasp and scratched her nails down his back, making him hiss, before her grip landed on his bum and she pulled him flush against her, pushing him in so deep that it made them both jolt and gasp. "Shut up and fuck me, Potter."

And so he did. As though he wanted to fuck Lily through the mattress, Potter pounded into her, his body slamming against hers over and over, his cock pummeling her and scrambling her brain into total incoherence just like she wanted it to. Lily knew she didn't deserve tenderness or affection right now. She wanted to be shagged into another dimension and have her very essence punished.

Lily wondered if she'd ever actually wanted to have sex with the guys she had before, or if she'd just wanted to have sex, period, with whom it was with be damned. Maybe her body had been able to tell, and had tried to teach her a lesson by barely ever even getting turned on, and therefore not prepping itself, in the slightest. It spelled for the difference between awkward, fumbling pain and blinding pleasure. Her anatomy didn't seem to have any of her usual problems with Potter. In fact, it seemed to be quite the opposite. Right from the start with how easy it had been for him to slide into her, it almost felt as though her body was redesigning itself just for him, so that he became her perfect fit, molding into her just right. She had never been so wet before, or felt so raw, or wanted it so fucking badly that she thought it could break her. She wanted him to break her. His impassioned words rang through her mind: 'You don't start until you feel like you would combust without it…'

He tried to kiss her again, but Lily wouldn't let him. This moment between them had somehow become about survival. About not letting herself fall even further for Potter, but instead getting his poison out of her system by guzzling a liter of it — shit, she really didn't know how any of this worked. All she knew was that she'd never had a choice about whether or not she fucked Potter, not really. All year, he'd been working his magic on her, luring her into this trap, and shit had she fallen for it. She hoped that now, after being shagged and dumped tomorrow, she'd have been chastised enough and he'd let her go. This could be the fitting conclusion to a game that she'd never actually wanted any part of to begin with, but had gotten sucked into all the same.

As she encouraged him to rut into her as if to split her clean in two, making her scream and moan out half-formed pleas and curses, she realized something: this path had been picked out for her a long time ago, by powers completely outside of her control, and she had to submit to the will of the universe before she could decide her own destiny.

Too bad Potter was hellbent on trying to make her like the path she was already on just the way it currently was. Unable to kiss her lips, he moved down to her neck, his rough bites and heavy sucks matching the brutal thrusts of his hips below. Lily swore the scrapping of the bed as it rocked back and forth across the stone floor in time with their movements was loud enough to wake the dead. Fine. Wake them and let them take me with them; I'm sure they'd be better people than present company anyway.

Lily grit her teeth, not wanting to let out any more moans now that she'd remembered just how much Potter had liked her doing so when he'd eaten her out — but it was hard. Every time he sheathed himself into her, she could feel her body responding, hips adjusting up to angle him just right, to hit the perfect spot inside of her, making her almost levitate. She knew she'd never gotten off on a pounding before, but she'd also never had a relationship that had been weeks of foreplay, making her cunt positively yearn to get claimed by him hard and fast and now, because for fuck's sake, we've waited so long.

"That's it, baby," Potter panted, helping Lily hold her hips up to the position that had made her whimper the loudest. "Fucking get it. You're taking me in so well."

She screwed her eyes shut, not wanting to have him play any part in her pleasure despite being the very clear root cause of it. Not liking being ignored, Potter brought his fingers down between them, finding her clit and flicking it back and forth as fast as he could. Lily instantly mewled, thighs clapping tightly around his hips as her toes curled.

"Ugh, shit, Evans—" Potter moaned, watching her, his movements slowing down in his distracted state. Lily growled, pissed off, slapping his arse to bring him back up to speed. "Yes, ma'am," he half-chuckled as he got back to work above her, his body glistening with the evidence of his vigorous exertion.

"Yes, yes—" she couldn't help but sigh as he picked up steam again, continuing to wreck her body up and down the bed. He was being so rough, in a way that she knew she was only loving because of the heat of the moment, and that would take away her ability to walk properly tomorrow. The thought of it, of having evidence of this shag even long after they were finished, turned her on even more.

"Open your eyes, Lily. I wanna watch you come," he instructed. She ignored him, focusing instead on all the physical sensations of him that were getting her there, hard, that were driving her feral as he pushed her further and further to her climax. "Evans…" he sang in that sexy demanding way that only he could pull off.

No. Fuck you. She screamed in head, her nails talking for her by digging into his shoulders and hopefully drawing blood.

He responded by biting down fiercely on her nipple, poking through the shirt she wore, making her snap open her eyes and jaw wide in pain. "Fuck—!" she yelled out as she felt herself falling over the edge into oblivion, her mouth immediately getting covered by his as he replaced her cry of pleasure with his own, his shuddering hips being an obvious sign that he was coming too. Lily felt him pulsating inside of her as he rode out the waves of their orgasms, never having known that feeling someone else's release could so enhance her own.

It took her a few seconds to realize that she'd cradled Potter into her chest as he caught his breath on top of her, her fingers woven into his silky strands. She would be having none of that. "Get off of me," she demanded, pushing on his broad shoulders.

He rolled over onto his back, more worn out than she'd ever seen him. Lily tried banishing the proud thought that she'd been the one to do this to him — she'd been the one that had made him come undone completely. Did it matter? She'd just fucked him. Of course he'd come.

They both fought to catch their breath, staring at the ceiling, while Lily readjusted the oversized shirt that she'd never taken off so that it went back to covering the tops of her thighs, ignoring the sticky wetness she felt dripping there. Part of her couldn't believe that she'd actually just shagged him, but another part accepted that it had been inevitable. "How did you know I wouldn't do it?" she asked curiously, quietly.

Potter knew she meant kill him — she supposed it was a rather hard thing to forget. "I didn't. But if I was gonna die, it might as well have been while fucking you."

Lily gulped. Why did she feel like she had just pledged her loyalty to the friggin' devil?

Next Chapter: The Repercussions