Note: There's the description of heavy seduction in this chapter (twice). No detailed smut, as promised, but sweet-nothings and (heavy) snogging.
The third week of March arrived, and Florence was forbidden from spending more than ten minutes on her feet; the inability to do simple things by herself, plus the fact that her husband was avoiding engaging in any sexual activities whatsoever, had Florence extremely moody.
Her anger flared every night, especially when said husband walked out of the bathroom half-naked with his hair still damp.
"I hate you," Florence said, eyeing him up and down, her mouth watering at the sight of him, her whole body becoming hyper-aware of his sexy presence, "I hate those joggers and every drop of water running down your chest."
Severus chuckled and put on a long-sleeved shirt, before sitting on the bed and kissing her lips.
She pulled him closer and deepened the kiss, one hand on his hair while the other caressed his hard pecs, moving down his abs.
She moaned in his mouth as she grabbed hold of his hard cock under his joggers.
He hissed in pleasure, breaking the kiss, and holding her hands, "Stop it, love."
"I can't have you fucking me, but I can feel this cock throbbing on my tongue, husband."
"Fuck," he cursed low, speaking between deep kisses: "You know you've never-" his tongue briefly entered her mouth to caress hers, "Been able to just-" he sucked on her bottom lip, "Suck me-" another caress of his tongue on hers, "And go to sleep, love."
She sucked on his tongue the next time he pushed it into her mouth, making him groan and kiss her more violently.
"This is dangerous, Florence," Severus tried to sound angry, but he was too turned on for that to not sound sexy.
She bit his bottom lip, "Do you want me to beg to suck you off, Sev? Cause I will."
He groaned, "Lie on your back, princess; head off the edge of the bed."
She obeyed, as fast as her belly allowed, loving how he so easily caved when she begged.
After they both had climaxed, Severus prodded Florence's mind, sensing through their bond that she wasn't in any pain or discomfort. So he breathed in relief and put her under the covers, lying down beside her, touching her belly and using magic to check on the babies, sensing that both were well and asleep.
Then he allowed himself to relax, holding her tightly and following her into sleep.
But not everyone slept easily that night...
Downstairs , Charlie Weasley stood at the backdoor, staring at the silent and dark backyard, a bottle of firewhisky on the floor by his feet while he held a half-full glass of the amber liquid in his left hand and sipped.
He reflected on the huge mess his life had become; up to six months ago, he was living his best life, looking after dragons in Romania, away from the blood-purity bullshit that still permeated the British society and away from the war that had restarted because of the twisted beliefs of a group of mad men.
He loved his job, loved helping the dragons, watching them overcome difficulties and thrive.
But when his family was attacked during his brother's wedding, he knew he couldn't simply return to Romania and ignore all that was happening back home, so he did the right thing: he stayed to help his family win the war.
Charlie closed his eyes and sipped some more of his firewhisky, bending down to pick up the bottle and going to sit on the porch's sofa.
He had left his life in Romania on hiatus – certain he'd be going back as soon as the war was won.
However, he hadn't been prepared for the things that happened a month ago – nor all that had happened since.
He'd never imagined he'd meet someone who'd make him rethink everything.
He never thought he'd feel that way about a woman.
He took a large sip of the firewhisky.
He had had relationships throughout the years – he'd even dated Tonks for a while when they studied in Hogwarts, many years ago – but nothing had prepared him for what he was feeling now.
Nothing had prepared him for what he had started to feel for the infuriating pureblood witch he had saved.
Narcissa Black Malfoy.
He remembered the moment she had woken up, nearly 24 hours after he had carried her to safety, the way her beautiful blue eyes had fallen on him as he walked out of his adjoined bathroom.
FLASHBACK
"Who are you?" she asked, worried as he approached the bed.
"I'm Charles Weasley, Mrs Malfoy. You're safe here."
"Here? Where's here ? I'm not at the Manor?"
"No, ma'am. You're at the Order headquarters, I carried you here after you passed out," he hesitated, not sure he should keep telling her what had happened, "Listen, I'll go get Pomfrey-"
But an elegant hand held his arm and she spoke, sounding suddenly terrified: "Please, don't leave me alone!"
"You're safe here, Mrs Malfoy," he repeated softly, as he would to a wounded baby dragon.
"Don't call me that!" she shouted, her whole face turning a mask of fury, "I never want to be called by his name again!" she pulled her wedding ring off her finger and reached for her wand on the nightstand.
" Reducto !" she cast, and the beautiful heirloom from the Malfoy family, that had sat for twenty-two years on her finger, turned to dust, "Call me Narcissa, I'm Narcissa Black."
"Alright, Miss Black," he spoke in a soft, and impressed, voice.
She looked at him and smiled weakly, "Thank you for helping me, Charles."
END OF FLASHBACK
Ever since that day, he had grown obsessed with her .
Narcissa and her icy-blue eyes, long blond hair and petite female body; she completely took over his bedroom, his life and his dreams within a matter of weeks.
My own little she-dragon.
He snorted, falling into his old habit of sorting people around him according to dragon species.
If he had to match Narcissa Black to a dragon equivalent, the only dragon that came to his mind was a small hybrid called Shorty he had cared for not too long ago.
Shorty's mum was an Antipodean Opaleye, a gorgeous small dragon known as the less aggressive of them all, but Shorty's father was a Swedish Short-Snout, which made her a beautiful small dragon, with the pearly scales of her mother's species and the beautiful silver eyes of her father's. Her flame was a brilliant blue colour — hot enough to reduce a whole man to ashes in seconds.
That's a perfect description , he thought. Petite, beautiful and deadly.
And Narcissa was out to kill him, he had no doubt about that; from the way she'd started to purposely walk around the room in nothing but a towel after showering, to the way she'd begun to make sure his favourite night-time tea was on the coffee table as he lay down on the sofa – where he had started sleeping ever since she'd taken over his room.
FLASHBACK
"How do you know what tea I drink every night, Narcissa?" He asked her earlier that night as he saw her setting the cup on the coffee table.
"I asked the elves," she replied as if it wasn't a big deal, "Tiffany taught me how to prepare it, so I began making it for you. It's-"
"You began making it? You ?" he interrupted her, surprised, "You're not just asking the elves to make it?"
"No," she blushed, "It's not a huge task, Charles! It's nothing!" she replied, with a dismissive hand-wave, in that I-know-better tone that made him want to kiss her until she admitted she knew nothing.
END OF FLASHBACK
Charlie had sat and sipped his tea that night imagining her standing by the sink of Lupin's simple kitchen in her expensive silk robes, her blond hair falling over her shoulders, her elegant hands making him a cup of tea.
How the fuck could that be nothing ?
He doubted she'd ever made her own tea in her whole life! And now she was making him a cup every night?
Fucking frustrating woman! He thought, taking another huge gulp of his firewhisky.
Charlie didn't realise he'd fallen asleep, but it was still dark when he woke up feeling like his head weighted a ton and his mouth was filled with cotton.
Fuck! If mum finds me here half-drunk, she'll have my hide!
He quickly got up, hid the firewhisky bottle, washed his cup and walked upstairs – in need of a shower and clean clothes.
Narcissa was probably asleep at that hour, so he could stare at her for a moment before getting his things.
Narcissa heard when the door of the bedroom was opened.
As there were only two people the wards allowed in there, and she was already in bed, she knew exactly who was walking in.
She was glad she had told Charlie she was the one making him his night tea; it might be just tea, but she was proud of herself for being able to make it – since she'd never boiled water before in her life.
She felt him stop near the bed, and she couldn't stop herself, so she spoke: "Do you have complaints about your tea tonight, Charles?"
He exhaled angrily, "Yes, in fact, I do. I want you to stop making it."
She frowned and sat up on the bed, "Why?" her long blond hair falling over her shoulders in waves and giving her a nymph-like look that made his blood rush straight to his cock.
"Just stop, Narcissa. Please."
"I wanted to please you," she admitted, "To show you my appreciation for all you've–"
"Just stop!" Charlie shouted, "You don't please me!" he made a face as soon as the words left his lips, for he knew they'd hurt her.
Predictably, she clenched her jaw as her eyes filled with tears, "Alright. I understand," she whispered, nodding.
He grimaced at the pain he could see in her eyes, "No. I don't mean that, it's just..."
"Enough, Charles!" she exclaimed in a finalising tone, "I'm sorry I created this situation. I see now that I've made a complete fool of myself, believing a young man like you'd ever find me pleasing."
He growled in frustration, rubbing his hands on his face, "You're not pleasing, Narcissa!" he said once more.
She squared her shoulders, putting on a brave face while her bottom lip trembled slightly, "No need to repeat that. Now you're just being cruel," she raised her chin, looking like a petulant teenager.
"No!" he insisted, shaking his head, "You're not pleasing ! You're bloody bewitching ! You have me hypnotised since the first day you looked up at me with your beautiful blue eyes! I've been doing my best to stop this feeling from growing but..." he exhaled, deciding to let her know exactly how he felt, his feelings suffocating him.
"I see you, Narcissa," he continued, "I see you when no one else is looking. And you're so sweet as you play with Sophie, you're fun and witty when you join others in conversation, and you're a fierce duellist. Whenever I watch you duel against a more experienced wizard, you're incredible in your anger – and all I want is to drag you away from that backyard and ravish you on the nearest surface."
He stopped talking and looked at her, breathing fast; Narcissa stared back at him in shock.
"But then," Charlie continued, "I remind myself that you're recovering from years of abuse – emotional and physical abuse. The last thing you need is a randy wizard thirsting after you," he shook his head, "I'm sorry for the honesty outburst. I'll just shower and be on my way."
He turned and went into the adjoined bathroom, leaving a baffled woman on the bed, trying to make sense of all he had said.
He wanted her?
He wanted to ravish her?
Narcissa let out a choked laughter and threw the covers away from her legs, getting up and knowing she had a decision to make.
Charlie had his back to the door, his forehead against the cold tiles as the hot water fell onto his back.
"Fuck," he cursed low, mentally kicking himself for all the things he'd told Narcissa just a few minutes ago.
"That's a very good idea, Charles," he heard her say and snapped his head towards the sound of her voice, staring at her as she stood inside the small bathroom in her dark green silk nightgown.
"Miss Black. What are you doing here?"
"I'm here, willing to be ravished ."
He watched, frozen in place, as her hands grabbed the hem of her nightgown. The world seemed to go into slow-motion as she pulled it up and off, revealing her creamy white skin.
Charlie shook his head, ready to remind her why that was a bad idea, but his treacherous body had a mind of its own and blood pooled fast on his groin.
"Miss Black," he gulped as he looked down her body, covered in just a dark green lace pair of knickers.
She smiled, "I love when you call me that. Not Narcissa . Not Cissy . But Miss Black ."
"You should- I mean, we shouldn't-" he shook his head again, both his hands fisting on either side of his body, itching to touch her, his eyes fixed on the gorgeous woman in front of him, the glass door of the shower stall separating them.
"You should listen, Charles," she said, her tone firm and filled with certainty, "Do you have any idea how long it's been since I felt like this ?"
"Like what ?" he heard himself asking before he could stop it; his brain had stopped working properly since all his blood had rushed south, "Tell me how you feel," he demanded.
"I feel aroused," her voice lower, sexier, "Completely taken by desire ," she paused, "It's been years since I last felt this."
His hands clenched and his body trembled with her confession, "I don't want to hurt you, Narcissa."
"Miss Black. Call me Miss Black, please, Charles," she gave a step closer to the shower stall and he slowly raised his hand to slide the door open, unable to stop himself.
"Stop that, Narcissa. Stop now," he ordered, "Fuck, the way you say my name in that posh way. It makes me want to silence you and hear you scream it at the same time," he groaned, "If you walk in here, I'll put my hands on you..." he openly gazed at her body, "And make you mine."
Her smile broadened and she took a step inside, "It's Miss Black, remember?"
His green eyes sparkled in desire, "You want me to call you that when I... ravish you?"
"Yes. Please, Charles."
He slid the glass door shut and touched her face tenderly, "What exactly do you want?"
"You. All of you," she replied breathlessly.
"You have me. But I want to know what do you want from this?"
Then she understood: "No pain," she quickly said. "But... I like a firm hand," he watched her blush, "And... I want to be touched, caressed... even adored," she finished in a whisper.
Charlie slowly moved his hands up her arms, looking into her eyes, "You, Miss Black, were made to be adored," he caressed her neck, "I'm taking my time with you," his thumb pushing her chin up, "First, I'll kiss you," he kissed her jaw, "Touch you," his lips met the corner of her mouth, "And adore you," he finished in a deep voice, looking into her eyes.
Charlie moved one hand down her back while the other remained on her neck.
"Is this ok?" he asked, pressing a little on her throat to make her understand what he meant.
"Yes," she gasped softly, "Just don't choke me."
A flash of anger burned in his eyes for a second as he thought about what others had done to her, "You tell me if anything brings you bad memories, Narcissa."
"Miss Black," she reminded him.
He shook his head, "I'm calling you that when in passion, right now I'm serious. I will not add to your pain."
She laughed, "I've never felt like this, Charles. I'm completely drunk by your kisses and you haven't even given me your tongue; I'm nearly regretting asking to be caressed for my body is burning for you," she sighed, "You have nothing to worry. Now... shut up and keep touching me," she ordered in that bossy tone that drove him crazy.
He chuckled and suddenly pulled her flush against his chest, the water running down both of them, before he captured her lips again, his tongue entering her mouth to caress hers this time.
She moaned, fisting her hands on his wet long red hair, as his kisses brought her a kind of pleasure she'd never thought possible one could feel just through kissing. She felt lightheaded, his kisses affecting her like the strongest of drugs.
Charlie took her to bed, making love to her, pleasuring her for long minutes, being careful not to crush her smaller frame under his own; afterwards, he held her tightly against his chest, being surprised by her soft sniffles.
"What happened?" he worried, pulling her face up, "Did I hurt you?"
She shook her head, "No, it was perfect, Charles. I'm just... emotional," she kissed his lips softly, "Thank you. I didn't even know such pleasure was possible."
He looked at her with a soft smile, but his eyes were serious, "Don't thank me, love. Just be mine."
She held her breath, looking at him with hope, "You mean outside of these walls?"
"Yes."
She chuckled, "Your mother would be happier seeing you dating a fire-breathing dragon, Charles."
"And your son would be happier seeing me dead," he replied, pulling her closer and kissing her lips softly, "He's already suspicious there's something between us."
"Don't worry about Draco. He will respect my wishes. But your mother... a son must always respect his mother."
"I'll talk to her," he reassured, rubbing his lips on hers teasingly, "Be mine, Narcissa Black."
She felt laughter bubbling inside her chest, a giddiness she hadn't felt since she was a teenager spread all over her body as she replied: "Yes, I want to be yours – whatever you want to call me."
"Mine- you're my everything."
Narcissa closed her eyes and laid her head on his chest, taken by a sense of peacefulness she didn't remember having ever felt before.
"Are you planning on leaving your husband?" Charlie asked with his eyes closed.
"I'm planning on being a widow before the war is over."
"Good," he chuckled, "Because I don't share," he kissed her head.
A laugh bubbled up in her throat, and she felt her heart falling for him. It might have been too early to say it, but Narcissa knew right then she was in love.
Note: Wow. People... Where James burns like all fires of hell, Charlie is a beautiful blue flame, slow and discreet – but just as deadly. I kept trying to speed things up but he forced me to take it slow. Lucky Miss Black (and she totally deserves the love).