FridayOnly Week 8 – Prompt: the taste of Sweet Decline
Falling into Sweet Sin
She fell into her soft warm bed. God she ached in places she had forgotten she had. He had twisted her into positions that she never imagined possible. Fucked her, twisted her again, then fucked her some more. Hours on end of him making user of her body over and over and over.
Where he got the stamina she would never know. But then again, he had always had quiet the talent for potions, maybe he was taking the wizarding version of the muggle "little blue pill."
She hadn't looked in a mirror in ages, but she felt fairly certain that her long red hair was in a veritable snare of knotted curls and that her eyes must resemble raccoons. She needed a shower after her fall into sweet sin.
Oh god the taste of sweet decline. She didn't know if she could over accept that part of her life being any other way. No Draco had tainted her and left her begging for me. Like a drink of strong liquor or hit of some muggle drug he was intoxicating. Yep, she was defiantly addicted to him.
A nice long nap, a shower, and then she would go back out in search of her taste of sweet decline.
