A/N - Thank you for reading and reviewing!
VI.
"What do we have to do?"
"Nothing."
She watched him nose around her room, observing her pen set and bookshelf and the collection of origami sea creatures she had piled on her desk, shelves, and nightstands. He picked up the octopus and observed it before moving on her dresser.
"Nothing?"
She wasn't sure why she'd never asked before. She'd asked him at least a thousand questions about everything, but their task had never come up. Not in detail. Only what she'd get out of it (everything), and what else he wanted from her (nothing). (Not that she believed it.)
"No, witch- I need your blood. You need mine. We'll consummate the union," he chuckled at her expression. "How would you prefer I describe our coupling?"
"Any modern way will suffice, Riddle."
"You didn't seem to take to the idea of fucking yesterday afternoon."
"Yes, well…I've had some time to think, obviously. Not to mention we've agreed-"
"Yes. We have," he turned away from her, picking up her jewelry box and flipping the lid open.
"One would assume that you're more comfortable now. Especially when considering the fact that you will be reliant on me frequently."
He smiled at her, head tilting and eyes glinting. "Yes."
She jerked. It wasn't an answer.
For a moment, he seemed indulgent. For a moment, she decided she wouldn't do it. For a moment, she'd seen the madness in his eyes and smile and tilt of his head.
But she itched her thigh and moved on.
"After, you will need to remain in bed-"
"I know that. So our magic can come to, so to speak, together. I really just hadn't realized there wasn't much else to do."
"We'll have to do the spell again on the next full moon. I'll come to you, but you must initiate that time. It won't hold if you aren't willing."
"I know," she told him, fingers twisting in the ends of her hair. "It's just interesting that it's all so easy."
"Easy?" He questioned, his voice truly showing his awe. After a few seconds too long, he calculatingly said, "I see…We could take it a step further, if you'd like. Our bond, though obviously strong and incredible, will not unite us in the way a soul bound-"
"I will report you to the Headmaster if you continue with that sentence."
He sat down next to her at the foot of her bed, his thigh heavy against hers. They both watched the full moon outside of her window before he lifted a hand to rest on her knee. His fingertips spread over the cap familiarly, and she jumped, laughing.
"Where is it?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.
She knew he was asking about his diary.
"It's safe."
"I know." He sounded so sure that it actually disgusted her. "But, where?"
Too close, she wanted to say. "Left bedside stand. Top drawer." Not close enough, too.
He hummed contentedly, pulling his sweater over his head. She'd already stripped down for the night, clad only in her nightgown.
"Have you read it?" He asked.
His voice was too casual, and she hated herself for knowing what that meant. Regardless of what her answer would be, it was important to him.
"No."
He met her eyes. "But, you sleep with it."
"Under my pillow," she confirmed.
He nodded, looking down to unbutton the shirt beneath his pullover. "Don't read it. You won't like it."
She waited until he was shirtless before asking, "Why make them at all? It's…you're torturing yourself. You won't be who you think you are when you're done."
"How do you know?" He was standing now, directly in front of her as he unfastened his trousers.
She recognized the tone of his voice again, and blinked.
She looked up at him to see that his face was blank. He was…nervous was never the right word. Prepared for the worst seemed more fitting. 'Ready,' even, though she was never quite sure for what.
She wasn't a threat to him. She wouldn't be, either.
"Are you worried I was right, Riddle? That what you've done is stupid?"
"Never."
She looked down at her nails. "Never mind, then."
He took hold of her jaw, attempting to gain the upper hand. "How does it feel? Knowing you're about to share the most important part of yourself with me? With a monster?"
"Monster?" She questioned.
He only smirked.
"Should I be scared?"
"Yes."
"Of you?"
His other hand drew over her shoulder and back and forth over the curve of her neck. "Of us, love."
She almost smiled. "Are you lying to me, Riddle? Am I going to wake up in the morning and hate you?"
His mouth twitched. He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers lightly. "You will not wake up in the morning and hate me, Hermione- at least, not anymore than you should. And I would never lie to you," his voice hung in the air. He kissed her again. "Unless it was for the better."
"For the better?" She asked.
"I think I promised you safety, did I not? I always keep my word."
"Promise me you aren't lying, then-"
She wasn't sure when or where he'd gotten a knife, but he suddenly nicked her bottom lip and sucked it into his mouth, his tongue swirling and pulling. There was more blood than there should have been, and she realized that he must have cut his own lip or tongue as well as she was forced to swallow.
Her mind was blank, empty of everything but Tom fucking Riddle.
He pressed his lips to hers repeatedly, murmuring Latin and hissing crazily and if she'd been in her right mind, she would have stopped him. She would have shoved him off and forced him to get the hell away from her, because something wasn't right.
But, she wasn't in her right mind. So, she lifted her fingers across his chest and touched his neck lightly, twisting them into his curls as she joined the kiss, all lips and teeth. Blood and spit covered them both as they pulled away from each other, Tom licking at his bottom lip.
He grinned at her, eyes like a starving man's as he took her in. She could see the blood pooling in his mouth and the way he positioned his jaw to hold it. Something forced her to reach for him again. Her mouth was open, and as he pushed his tongue in blood filled her mouth. He sucked her lip hard as he pulled away.
Her head was light and body boneless.
"Swallow."
She did, eyes falling closed as he continued to lick and suck at her bleeding lip. It was disgusting and disturbing in a way she hadn't considered before, but she didn't care.
There wasn't a way to describe the feeling. It'd happened too quickly, leaving a layer of need over her mind. She found it hard to keep up when he said, "You never answered my question."
"I can't remember."
And there was something important she as supposed to have recognized. To have noticed about him and his words and his self-serving nature. But…
He pulled away enough to look into her eyes. She took the opportunity to move further onto her bed, encouraging him to follow her.
Again, he grinned, running his tongue over his teeth. There wasn't any more blood as he said, "My little lioness."
The words seemed wrong coming from him. Twisted and too fond and haunting.
She healed her own lip as he made his way up the bed, kissing her thoroughly once he reached her.
They didn't have to do this. She told him so.
He smiled slowly, pressing her down into the mattress. He positioned her thighs over his, leaning onto his elbows to press a kiss to her mouth. "Do you want to, though? Do you want this, Granger?"
When she didn't answer, he sat up, pushing her nightgown further up her hips.
She was watching him from between her lashes, and smirked when he realized that she wasn't wearing any panties. His chest shuddered. His fingers froze on her hips.
"Do you want this, Tom?"
He vanished their clothing, leaning back over to kiss her again. His erection rested heavily on her, hot and hard against her center.
Her fingers slid up his back slowly.
"Yes."
His hand found her core. Found her wet. He bit her neck, teeth imprinting on her skin as he circled her clit. When she began to whimper, he soothed her throat with open mouth kisses, asking, "Do you, Granger?"
His free hand tightened in her hair, holding her in place as their eyes met. "Do you want my cock? Do you want to get fucked by a monster?"
Her eyes were closed, and her throat felt as though it was threatening to do the same. Her stomach tightened and cunt ached and she barely realized that she was grinding against his fingers, trying to relieve herself.
"Hermione," he murmured, breath fanning over her cheek. She began to tremble beneath him.
"Stop-"
He did. Her eyes popped open to see that he was watching her with a worried expression on his face. It vanished too quickly.
She swallowed. "I didn't mean stop. I meant…I don't know-"
"Have you done this before?"
"Yes."
He didn't seem impressed.
"To myself, I mean. I've brought myself to orgasm. This is the first time-"
It felt unsatisfying to tell him that she wasn't a virgin. Her previous lovers didn't embarrass her; she was more embarrassed by and upset with herself for never demanding more of them.
"It's fine," she lifted her hips enough off the bed to press against his cock. Her voice was breathy and low as she said, "Keep going. It's a lot, with the blood and the idea and effect, but…I'll tell you if it's too much. Promise."
He had to believe her. She had to believe herself. It would all be for naught if she didn't.
Tom closed his eyes for a minute, burying his face in her shoulder. His fingers slowly returned to their work, his tongue exploring her skin. She touched as much of him as she could reach, enjoying the solid, warm feeling of his skin and weight.
Her eyes fell closed again, hips rotating against his fingers, and too quickly she began to tremble again.
"Do you feel that, Granger?"
She felt him lick his lips against her collarbone.
"Do you like the feeling of my fingers on you? In you? Making you cum?"
His voice was so quiet and gentle that she nearly forgot who he was. What they were doing. That they weren't…
Her eyes opened. Her breath caught in her throat.
"That's it, love. Cum for me, Hermione."
She was shaking and hot and cold and so hungry for him and his offerings.
She felt too much of him: his fist in her hair; his thighs against her own; his breath in her mouth just before he kissed her again. There was an odd urge filling her, begging her get closer to him. To dig and claw her way through his skin and into his chest and mind and live there forever.
"Please," she let go of his arms. Reached for him. "I need you, Riddle. Please."
There was nothing else in the world but the two of them.
His eyes were open when she finally looked into them, watching her, and she gasped. He let go of her hair in favor of her throat, squeezing lightly. When she didn't protest, he kissed her, smiling when her hands crept up to wrap delicately around his wrist. Her thumb pressed into his ring and she sighed happily.
He rubbed his cock against her slit just before angling his hips into her, slowly pressing in.
"How does it feel, Hermione?"
She heard the rest of his question, hanging in the air. Waiting.
It was odd to know that he truly believed himself a monster. That he'd flat out told her. That she'd seen it –even if it was only briefly- in his eyes. That she still wanted this and him and it had to be the blood. It had to be the fact that they'd spent too much time together, leaching off of each other's mind and magic. Reading that fucking book over and over after him had started the process ages ago- she felt cheated and betrayed and-
She shifted her hips, rotating them slightly and groaning. Her mind was hazy and unclear.
-there had been blood staining the pages of the book the first few times she'd read it. And then it began to cut her, its pages sharp and hungry and needy and-
"Riddle. Move. Please. Fuck me. I'm," she broke off, struggling to inhale. Everything seemed to flood her all at once.
-exactly like her.
She didn't want this. But she did. She needed it. She needed him. She needed to finish whatever it was she'd been tricked into starting.
His pace was slow, strokes long and heavy as he again asked, "How does it feel, Hermione?"
"Good."