Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter. This author knows Lily is not a good person here, she hopes you know she is not a good person here, this story is not condoning bad behavior, just exploring it, if you are uncomfortable you can always stop reading, I won't mind :) Art work by the super talented windbyfire (insta)

You're Losing Me ~ Taylor Swift

7th Year

James rolled over in his bed that night, half expecting it all to have been a dream: the duel in class and everything that had happened afterwards. He didn't think he'd ever heard the Slytherins cheer as loudly as when Gryffindor's golden boy had fallen like a rock, brought down by the cunningness of one of their own. And Sirius and Remus had responded in kind, their disgruntled cries of rage making Carter worried that an all-out war was about to erupt in her classroom.

At the end of the day, James was embarrassed as he lay there, trying to punch his pillow into submission. He'd just thought how loving Evans hadn't made him weak, but there she went and turned everything on its head again, showing him that maybe it had. No one else in the world would have been able to pull a fast one over his head like she just had, and he knew if this had been the real world and not a classroom exercise, he'd be dead. Just like she told you all along. She'd told him the groundwork for her nefarious ways of thinking months ago and he'd still fallen for it hook, line, and sinker.

Which was exactly why he was so fucking angry when Evans showed up at his bed an hour later, trying to crawl in with him.

"What? What the fuck are you—?" he'd mumbled groggily, already addled by the lack of sleep he so desperately craved. Lily didn't respond, but that's when he noticed she was crying, the wetness rolling down her cheeks glistening brightly in the light of the waxing moon. James couldn't explain it, but it reminded him of unicorn blood: silvery, powerful, and cursed. "Lils? What's wrong?" he asked, adjusting his tone as he caught her tears with his thumb and sat up worriedly.

"I'm sorry," she breathed, biting her lip. She looked so sad and vulnerable, her bones poking out of her skin in a way they hadn't before. She had definitely lost weight — they both had. It was so hard to keep up an appetite whilst his heart had slowly lost its once ferocious beat.

"For what?" James asked, shoving his blanket back so he could pull her under it with him, wrapping her up tightly with its warmth and his arms. She was shaking; she was always so damn cold.

"I'm sorry," she repeated, nuzzling into his chest and hiding her face. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…"

He couldn't stand hearing her like this. He couldn't bear it — even if his humanity supposedly made him weak. "Shh, sh…" he soothed, kissing the crown of her head. "It's okay, just sleep, sleep." Whatever it was, it could wait till morning. She was cold, tired, and crying, and all he wanted was to stop all of these things.

"He raised me."

James gulped, feeling Lily go absolutely rigid in his arms, still hidden from view curled beneath him. "What?"

"Voldemort," she whispered in a way that made James worried she feared him just as much as he did. But James supposed that was an unfair assessment. James feared the idea of a man filled with so much hate that his main goal in life was to spread it and infect as many other people with it as possible. He feared a man who found out he had cancer, and whose first thought was trying to give it to everyone else in his orbit as well. Lily actually knew this monster, knew the true horrors he was capable of in far clearer terms than his current nightmares. James would wager that her capacity to fear him was far greater than his own.

"What do you mean Voldemort raised you?" The notion was so ludicrous, it simply refused to register in his brain.

Lily half-hiccuped, half-sobbed, and James' arms instinctually tightened around her. "For the last decade, I've lived with him."

Oh my fucking Merlin. Suddenly all the puzzle pieces fell into place. Evans wasn't evil, she was fucking broken. How can anyone survive being raised by that? The fact that Lily had any shred of compassion left after ten years of experiencing nothing but soulless rearing was a feat that they should be celebrating. She'd probably never been shown any sort of example of what human decency was, let alone kindness — so no wonder why she was always questioning James' motives. She came from a dog-eat-dog world, and what? James was just going to stop loving her — maybe the first person in the last decade who had? And why? Because she'd hurt his feelings? Because she'd bested him in a duel? Suddenly her commanding him to hurt her in the arena made sense. She'd basically been trying to prove to herself that he was just like all the other men in her life. She'd never truly trusted him — and now he knew why.

Fuck.

"I'm sorry," she chanted, tearing James' heart right down the middle.

"Stop, stop," James gently instructed, kissing her hair some more, trying to show her it would all be all right. "You're fine, you're safe. Please stop crying, it's gonna be okay…"

"Please don't give up on me, James."

Her words were ejected straight into his veins, altering his very DNA. "I won't, Lily. I promise, I won't."

So what the fuck do I do now?

James had hardly slept a lick last night, his head still spinning from learning Lily's big secret. He kept wanting to get his Invisibility Cloak and sneak off to the restricted section of the library so he could learn more about this guy, this Voldemort, who he knew so very little about other than whispers and rumors. He knew his parents hated him, but they'd always so naively tried to shield James from the worst of his atrocities, and truthfully, James had been pretty content to let the problems outside of the castle walls stay there. He knew his moral compass was sound, knew he'd recognize a bad guy when he saw one, and this technique had worked out pretty darn well his whole life.

But maybe it was time to grow up. James wanted to be an Auror after all, and he doubted someone as seasoned and hardened as Mad-Eye Moody would find his ignorance on current events cute.

James looked down at his girl, sleeping soundly next to him. The other thing keeping him up all night was worrying what the hell would happen to her. It felt like she had doubts about where her loyalties should lie, she'd been alluding to it all year, but he knew she'd never be able to just leave. Death cults seemed to have a very strict 'no returns' policy, and he wasn't too keen to ask her to test it out.

It was just so unfair. She was so beautiful in the morning. Okay, so that wasn't true, she was always beautiful, but there was just another dimension to her allure when she was like this — unguarded, unbothered, unmasked. She didn't have to be in control while she slept or put on her hard, badass shield to keep most people out. James was actually pleasantly surprised to discover that she often smiled as she dreamed, a cute little grin, as if she had snuck down early on her birthday and opened all her presents before her parents woke up.

A shot of guilt ran through James. He'd done it again — painted her emotions through his own lens. She'd barely ever had parents, and he doubted Voldemort had ever remembered her birthday. It's coming up this week… She deserved presents. Hell, James thought she deserved the world.

Lily shifted in her sleep, curling closer to his side. She's perfect. He wanted to hold her, he wanted to squeeze her, he wanted to wrap his arms around her like he had last night and shelter her from the world that had dealt her such a bad hand while she was still so young and make her feel safe. He hadn't been able to sleep, but she'd eventually calmed down in his embrace and drifted off, and he was so proud to have given her at least that. His love didn't come with strings; it never had. He hoped she was seeing that loving someone meant showing them the real you — faults and insecurities and all. He naively believed he could handle the truth — could handle her — no matter what else she was so desperately hiding.

He had the feeling that her confession last night was only the tip of her iceberg.

He hadn't been able to stop thinking about her joke by the fireplace though: "How are you sure that's the act?" It still haunted him, like a dull ache in the back of his mind that was screaming that he was forgetting something, overlooking something, and James was terrified he was going to wake up one day and realize just what that something was when it was already too late.

You're being paranoid, he told himself. For one, Lily had never seemed selfish to him, despite the persona she gave off in the halls. He knew that was an act to keep her enemies off her back for the most part. Her true self was who he saw at home, it had to be, still a confident, take-no-shit from no man kind of woman, but also someone who'd heal a peer in need. He'd seen her nurse kids back to health countless times now, even a fucking Gryffindor when she thought no one else was watching. That was who Lily Evans was. And that was the woman he loved.

A tiny moan escaping her lips broke his concentration as her palm slid over his bare pec. Although he was worried that she seemed cold all the time, there was nothing he loved more than being the furnace that she could warm herself up to.

James tore his eyes from her face to peek towards the window and out onto the grounds. It looked as though the first rays of sunshine were breaching over the mountains which meant he had to get up to start setting up Quidditch practice. In his attempt to stay away from her as much as possible, he'd scheduled his team on as many weekday nights and weekend mornings as McGonagall allowed.

But Merlin did he wish he didn't have to leave bed right now.

His touch light as a feather, James skimmed his fingers across the back of her hand and down her forearm, hoping to gently alert Lily to his imminent exit. He was hoping she would maybe roll over and let him sneak out, but she didn't. She only sighed and moaned a little deeper.

Well, that was unexpected.

"Love," James whispered, taking her hand and tenderly bringing it to his mouth for a kiss, "I have to go."

"No," was Lily's simple, gruff reply as she swung a leg over his hips, reminding him just how hard he already was as her knee rubbed against his erection.

Great. He already didn't want to go, but if she didn't want him too either? He was screwed.

Besides flattered and horny, James was also a tad shocked. Was this the same girl who had disappeared on him the morning after their first time? Was this the same girl who acted as though he was dirt in public now clinging to him like a koala bear? Perhaps she already depended on him more than she let on. Maybe, James thought hopefully, she really needed him just as much as he needed her.

She's so fucking confusing.

James' hand migrated down to her leg over his crotch, trailing his fingers up her thigh and around her arse, reveling in the way her back arched with his caress. She loved this. She kissed his shoulder as she pushed her body into his, her breasts smooshed into his side.

Well that won't do.

James rolled Lily onto her back, intent on worshipping every last soft curve of her body. He could arrive on the pitch at the same time as his team and make them run laps as he set up or something. They'd get over it.

Even as her eyes remained closed with sleepiness, Lily's smile grew as she stretched her arms out wide, clearly knowing she'd won.

Liking Lily was hard, because while he wanted her to feel safe, and he wanted her to let him in, it was still a constant struggle not wanting to also feel like he was getting completely walked all over.

James fought with his instincts to immediately lavish her tits with his tongue, and instead propped himself up beside her on one elbow so he could keep tracing her with his fingertips, starting at the top of her breast plate and swooping down low along her side to miss the swell of her breast.

He expected her to be pissed by his clear avoidance of an obvious erogenous zone. He did not expect her to flex into his touch with the world's most sexy sigh. Fucking hell. She could do no wrong.

James watched enraptured as he dragged his hand lower, along the bumps of her ribs, the dip of her waist, the outside of her hips. She was precious, and right now, she was his. He didn't think he'd ever get over being granted permission to touch a woman like this. He slowed his movements down even further still, wanting to savor just how her body responded to him — the shallowing of her breath, the goosebumps that erupted in his wake, the slight twitch she made when he passed a region he could tell was just sensitive enough for her to like — all of it. James realized he could stay in bed and do this all day.

But he couldn't. He had responsibilities.

And she was not his number one priority, she couldn't be — that wouldn't be healthy.

"Lil—" James cleared his throat since it was rough with desire, "Lily, I have to go."

"Wait," she said, finally opening her eyes and snatching his wrist. It was like she had never even taken his intention to actually leave her seriously up until that very second. "Stay." Her gorgeous eyes oscillated between his. How could he resist such a request? "Please. I need you."

She didn't have to add that last part, tailor-made to bring him down — she had to know he was a goner as soon as she looked at him.

"Feel how wet I am for you."

Holy shit. Maybe goner wasn't enough for her. Maybe she wanted James to be reduced to absolute sex slave status — because honestly, he might just be on board with holding that title for her now.

James allowed her to pull his hand down between her legs and grazed his fingers against her, and fuck, she hadn't been exaggerating. She was dripping for him. James hadn't touched her there yet this morning, or even played with her nipples, and yet being with him, having James show his devotion to her through caresses, had driven her to this?

She liked him. She had to fucking like him. James obviously wasn't the world's most experienced bloke, (well, he was getting there) but this had to mean something — doesn't it?

Or do you just want it to mean something so badly that you'll read into anything? He knew the definition of insanity was expecting something different after he repeatedly bashed his head against her wall, but whoever came up with that definition had never met her. She was worth losing his mind over.

James lightly ghosted his fingers past her entrance as he pondered, and Lily mewled as if she loved the tease. Just the slightest contact with her inner lips was getting his fingers coated.

"You're so wet," he said dumbly, still trying to process this development.

"See what you do to me?" She turned her face to him even though her eyes were still closed and she looked so damn contented. So fucking relaxed. He'd never seen her like this. He wanted to watch her stay this blissful forever.

"Do you like me?" he blurted out before he could stop his one-tracked mind. He kicked himself for being the least smooth guy on the planet, but damnit, he needed to know. The question had only plagued him for what felt like an eternity.

She lazily opened her eyes again and James was just a second too late in slipping on his indifferent expression. Her grin turned lopsided as she watched him. "What do you think?"

That wasn't a fucking answer. James tore his eyes back to his hand as he brought it to her chest instead, swirling his middle finger around her nipple, making a small ring of her juices. His cock stirred with his overwhelming need to bend down and taste her on her breast. He was frustrated by her diversion and yet so fucking turned on that he might just pass out.

So basically, he was in Evans' presence, and business was usual.

"I don't know," he admitted painfully, keeping his gaze glued to her chest. As far as distractions over his own pitifulness went, her tits were the cream of the crop. (No pun intended with how they're currently glistening. Damn he was horny.)

Her silence was deafening. James found he couldn't look back at her face, too scared of what he'd see written across it. He'd been here before, in nearly this exact same position only weeks prior when he'd told her he wished she could meet his family, and he'd obviously learnt nothing. He was an idiot. He knew that — he knew he had fallen for a girl who didn't have the capacity to ever love him back. But she couldn't even tell him she liked him? It was pathetic. And the worst part is, it's not even her fault. Would James have ever learned how to love if he'd never been shown it his whole life? Who could know for sure?

So that meant that Lily's inability wasn't pathetic, maybe just he was for expecting anything different.

James leaned into her body, figuring he could at least save her the awkwardness of having to tell him the heartbreaking truth by wrapping his lips around her nipple instead. Fine, so her feelings were off limits, but her body was not. Whatever. James didn't care. James could deal.

He tasted her on his tongue and felt her fingers as they scratched the back of his scalp, pulling him tighter against her body as she arched her chest so eagerly into his awaiting mouth and he realized that nah, he couldn't deal. He would not be relapsing with his drug of choice today.

"Okay, gotta go," he said resolutely this time, pushing himself off of the mattress and hopping out of bed, making a big point to not look at her.

He'd just reached a pair of trunks strewn across the floor and hastily slipped them on when she propped herself up onto her elbows with a "Wait!"

"No Evans, I'm serious. I have practice and I'm not gonna miss it for…" James trailed off, collecting his socks, joggers, and jersey. He felt Evans' eyes boring into his back, watching his every move, and he was so grateful he'd had the strength to cut himself off from telling her the truth. He couldn't just throw away everything else he held dear for a girl who didn't even like him. How moronic would that be?

(Even if it's what he wanted to do.)

There came a day in every young man's life when he had to stand up for himself and finally declare that enough was enough. While he would always be there to protect her, and he would do everything in his power to make sure that she never got hurt, that didn't mean that he would just allow her to be the one to drive a dagger through his heart anymore. This sexual relationship had clearly gone too far to be in his best interest, and he had to cut it off before it burned them both to the ground. He could love her from afar — for the last couple years he had done exactly that, even if he hadn't realized the depth of his feelings yet. Love and sex weren't synonymous, and until she learned how to do the first (if she ever did), he would have to deny her the second, plain and simple. He couldn't keep getting yanked by her leash anymore; he refused to be that guy. "Shockingly, my life doesn't revolve around you," he lied. He boldfaced lied.

Just as James' hand closed around the bathroom doorknob, ready to make his quick escape, he heard Lily say, "I'll let you fuck me." She sounded breathless, almost panicked.

Was she scared he was leaving, or scared she was losing her power over him? James assumed the latter and let his hurt over her rejection dictate his cutting response. "I've already fucked you, Evans. Plenty."

There was a beat where James heard his heart hammering in his chest, wondering if he'd been too cruel. But she's cruel. Can't I be it back, if only a little? Was reacting in spite just as bad as acting in it first? He didn't think so. He thought the order of the blows had to matter at least somewhat. Whatever the case may be, it didn't matter, because hadn't James just deduced that Lily used sex as a lure? This wasn't a barter; Evans couldn't simply dangle her body in front of him to receive the tokens of James' love. He wanted, and had always wanted, more from her.

James remained frozen, hand on the knob, waiting for her final word.

Lily snorted. "No, I've fucked you, James. There's a difference."

Power, control, dominance. The words all swirled in his head as he turned back to her, feeling like he'd just unearthed a new key to unlocking her many mysteries. So her insistence on having sex her way had been about that all along.

She liked being the one steering the broom… but she was willing to let him fly today. "Why?"

Lily tilted her head. Before he would have seen her posture on his bed as a power stance. She had her shoulders squared yet looked relaxed on her elbows, as though his decision in the matter didn't affect her in the slightest. But he could see some cracks in the facade now — like the way she was swaying her bent knee from side-to-side (confident Evans never fidgeted) or the way her eyes were squinting the tiniest bit. She was rattled — but why? If she didn't even like him, what did it matter if he stayed or left? She could have another bloke in her bed within the hour if she wanted, hell, within his bed if she really wanted to cut him to the bone.

"What do you mean?" she tried asking innocently.

He wasn't having it. "You know what I mean." James crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned back against the door, watching her.

She licked her lips, not backing down from his deadly stare. "Because I want you to."

"You want me to fuck you?" James dropped his head back against the wood.

"Yeah. It's been a few weeks. You haven't been very generous lately." Her eyes darted to his bobbing Adam's apple and back, smirking. "So what's so wrong with missing you?"

Nothing. And everything. This conversation could be about feelings — should be in fact — but she wasn't letting it be. Well, she was getting closer… infinitesimally closer. She would rather continue to throw up the smokescreen that was her sexuality and leave James blinded by it until she'd had her way. It was exhausting.

And yet highly effective.

"Don't you want to?"

James found himself walking towards the foot of the bed, clutching both bedposts to lean in between as he stared down at her. He had to admit, it was a completely different sensation seeing her like this, being so much higher than her as she lay there naked beneath him. Could perspective truly play such a big factor in his feelings? Or more importantly, in hers?

"Do you, James?" Her genuine question startled him, reminding him not to so openly ogle all the physical parts of her he so fucking loved. He didn't miss that she kept saying his name, even while he'd already slipped back into using her surname. Why? Why the hell is she doing any of this?

In a moment of startling clarity, James realized that while it sure as hell didn't look like it — she was actually being vulnerable, just like last night. Was he expecting too much from her too fast? She couldn't tell him how she felt about him, and she was terrified that he'd leave her for it, so she was trying to give him something else he craved. Something that she could actually give him. Either that, or she truly was the most manipulative bitch on the planet — but getting lost in the forest of her eyes, he didn't think so. She genuinely wanted, perhaps needed, him to stay.

"Of course I do, Lily," he whispered.

She looked so relieved when she smiled. "Good."

Should he? Did she actually want him to? He didn't want to feel like he was preying on her insecurities. "I'm not sure we should—"

"Well I am." She reached forward and pulled on the waistband of his pants, dragging him forward onto the bed and on top of her as she sunk into his pillow.

It was different, it felt so strange to be in charge, or at least physically dominant, and honestly, James still felt a little wrong about it. "We can just talk," he suggested, propping himself over her.

Her eyes went wide as she looked up at him. "Is this… is this because of last night?"

"What?"

"Do you…" She looked on the verge of tears again, making James panic. Her eyes were always breathtakingly green, but when they were wet, they shone brighter than any star James had ever seen. The effect was absolutely spellbinding. "Do you think of me differently?"

What the fuck is happening? "No! Lily, you're allowed to cry. I don't—" he adjusted himself, freeing one hand to tear through his hair, "—you're allowed to be human. That doesn't make you weak. That doesn't change how I feel about you." Was she not allowed to show emotions with Voldemort? Did he think of them as a display of lack of control?

Was she okay?! He'd never seen her continuously break down like this.

"Did something happen?" He removed his hand from his roots, realizing she needed his comfort more as he cupped his hand against her cheek. She leaned into his touch. "Baby, talk to me. What's going on? What are you not telling—?"

"I love you."

James could have heard a Snitch flutter its wings outside his window in the silence that followed Lily's confession. Then all at once, like the ocean sucking in its tide before a tsunami hit, James felt his heart burst into flames, a baby phoenix rising from the ashes and taking over his whole body. He couldn't believe this was real. Everything he'd ever wanted was happening.

"Say something," Lily begged quietly, a tear slipping from her eye and rolling into the hair that framed her head like a halo on his pillow. Her gaze flicked across his face, yearning for his acceptance.

He bent down and kissed her, too overwhelmed to speak yet. She must have known, because she giggled as he slid his lips over hers giddily, too busy smiling to be any good at it. "I love you too," he breathed, before trying to kiss her again. "I love you, I love you, I love you."

"Well, why didn't you tell me first, you big oaf?"

James laughed, feeling on top of the world. He was not going to mess this up. Their relationship was messy and complicated and a little (lot) fucked up, but it was theirs, and he cherished it with his whole damn heart. Truthfully, he sort of felt like he was trading his soul in to have it.

As his body settled over hers, and he did his best to keep most of his weight from crushing her into the mattress, he looked down and found her eyes still staring into the very depths of his being. "Do you still want to?" he whispered, wishing to celebrate this insane milestone with her. That being said, he still wasn't sure if she'd offered her sex as a lifeline again, or if she actually wanted this. "We really don't have to." Her body felt so soft under his, and he'd wanted to try this position for forever, but he never wanted her to regret a single moment in his presence.

He loved her too much for that.

And she knew it.

Lily bit her bottom lip before sighing, "I want you." Then, she closed the minuscule gap between their mouths, kissing him as her fingers pushed down his trunks and she used her feet to free them all the way off his legs.

James moaned into the kiss as his hips sunk down between her now open legs. This was different — and so fucking good. "What do you want me to do?" he panted, breaking from her lips so he could kiss down her chin and along her neck. He had to do this right. He would not fuck up possibly his one opportunity to show her that no matter what position they were in, she would always come first. It was a lot of pressure for a dude who'd basically never been in charge of a shag. "Do you want me to eat you out first? Do you want me to—"

"Breathe, baby," she commanded. Her tone actually soothed him. Had he really gotten so cocky as to think that she'd ever not rule him? "Gimme that," she said, pointing to his wand sitting on his nightstand. James obliged her without hesitation and watched as she made it buzz. "Hips up." The slender wood fit right between them even when he slunk his body back down over hers.

"Better?" he asked, lids feeling heavy as he drank in her satisfied expression. He'd always wondered what that mysterious buzzing sound that sometimes came from her room was, and it looked as though he finally had his answer. Although she's using your wand now. Had James ever been jealous of his own wand before? Was that a completely unhinged notion? James had no idea how he'd ever be able to look at his magical device the same way again now knowing how much pleasure it could bring her.

She savored the vibrating sensation rocking her clit as her head melted back into the pillow. "Much."

James felt his instincts kick in as he resumed kissing her, his elbow supporting his weight so he could cup her face and use his right hand to hike her thigh up around his waist. She was his. So deliciously his for the taking.

But he was going to make the most of this. Lily whined when she figured as much. "Come on, James, teasing is my thing."

James laughed into her cheek as his cock made another pass through her pussy lips instead of slipping inside of them. He knew it would take a concentrated effort to get himself inside with how tight she was and those sorts of things didn't just happen on accident. Any guy who claimed otherwise was a liar, and frankly, gross as hell. James didn't want to be like all the other blokes Lily had bedded. He wanted to be the only one she remembered because he was the only one worth remembering.

And having her practically beg him to fuck her wasn't too shabby either.

"You ready for me, love?" he gruffly taunted, his breath tickling her ear.

She squirmed beneath him, trying to take matters into her own hands by lining them up. "Yes." James' chuckle morphed into a groan as she finally succeeded, steering his cock all the way inside of her with a deep moan of her own.

"Fuck, baby," James muttered, burying his face into her neck. She always felt amazing — he knew that — but getting to experience her body from this angle? It felt like all the best parts of being home and exploring the world in one. He thought he might just die. "Wait," he commanded as he brought his grip to her hip, pinning her down to the bed to stop her from humping up into him. "I'm doing this, remember?"

He pulled back his face just in time to see her bottom lip get released from between her teeth. "Okay."

"Okay?" he repeated amused, knowing there was no way she was truly this agreeable. But then again, maybe they both knew that James wouldn't be fucking her this morning —he'd be making love to her.

And maybe she was finally ready for that.

Is that why she's resisted so long? Had the concept frightened her?

Still holding her in place, James studied every flicker of pleasure that passed over her face as he slowly pulled out of her only to sink his hips back and fill her up once more. He felt his wand doing its magic between their bodies and had never been more proud of it in his life. "That feel good?" he asked, barely stirring her from her love-drunk haze. Perhaps the wand was doing most of the work, but James was still going to take credit because they were a team — and they were seemingly fucking getting her there.

"Yes," Lily sighed, clutching at his back with her nails.

"What feels good?" he pushed, making his strokes long and slow. Her brow twitched when he hit the front of her cervix so he made sure not to go that deep again.

She peeked at him through barely open lids. "Your cock."

James groaned as he leaned in to kiss her, wanting to taste her as much as shut her up. He thought he'd be able to handle her wicked tongue this morning given everything else she'd told him too, but boy had he been wrong.

This felt so intimate, so fucking right, as he rhythmically fed her his cock, their bodies humming in tune. Sure, it didn't have the primal appeal of her absolutely fucking losing it, screaming as she rocked herself on top of him, but he still liked this just the same. He really hoped they could add the position to their repertoire, and perhaps some others too.

"Tell me you love me," she whimpered.

"I love you." He'd say it as many times as she needed to hear it. He wrapped her between his biceps, wanting to feel closer to her, wanting to pull her in tighter against him as he continued to ravish her. Feel how much I love you, know how much I always will, he cooed in his head, hoping his body was telling her everything she needed to know. Did she operate the same way? Is her body answering mine?

He felt her cunt flutter around him as she let out a dainty moan, and he pulled back to look at her almost immediately. She stared back at him, jaw loose, appearing as surprised as he felt. Is she about to..? Another plunge of his cock coaxed another moan from her lips, and this time her pulsing was undeniable. He was about to make her come. Like this. James couldn't have been happier if he tried.

"That's it, baby," he encouraged. "Fucking come, just like that." He tried to keep his pace the same, because clearly it was working, but it was so hard with his excitement.

"Fuck off," she hissed, mouth now wide open as her eyes squeezed shut, clearly mad that he'd been oh-so-right in pushing her to experiment with him. She knew this would do nothing for his cockiness.

He loved it.

"I'm close too, Lily, but you gotta come first, baby, please," he begged, her body's reactions always being too much for him to handle.

"There, there," she panted, her thighs clamping tighter around him, nearly preventing him from fulfilling her instructions, as her nails scratched down his back roughly. The pain only got him closer to his own release. "Don't stop, don't—" but the rest of her plea tapered off into a whimper as her body convulsed gently beneath him, succumbing to her orgasm. James followed her a few seconds later, muffling his groan with her mouth as he pumped them through their pleasure.

When he felt like he could no longer breathe, the last shockwaves rippling out to a more relaxing tide, he tried to collect his breath, sinking some of his weight deliriously on top of her. "You're so fucking amazing, do you know that?" He couldn't help but pant. It was true — she had to be told it, and as often as she'd let him.

She laughed in reply. "Can't breathe," she squeaked with a tap to his shoulder, making James roll over onto his back by her side. She immediately took off his still buzzing wand and deactivated it before putting it on his nightstand and looking up at his ceiling, seemingly avoiding his gaze.

James grinned as his cheek pressed against the pillow to look at her. "Sooo…?" he prompted.

"Shut up," she sniped. Or at least she tried to snipe, but James wasn't buying it.

"That good, eh?"

Lily's left eyebrow arched. "I still like being on top better."

"Okay," James responded, shit-eating grin still firmly in place.

She didn't turn her head, but she finally looked at him from the corner of her eye. "You're insufferable."

"But you love me." It was bold, considering the rollercoaster ride of emotions her inability to tell him sooner had just caused them, but he was feeling on top of the world.

Lily leaned in, her eyes dropping to his lips before landing back on his, pulling him in like a magnet. He was no longer an idiot; he knew when the girl wanted him to kiss her — and so he did. It was slow and sweet, and when her palm came up to cup his cheek, it was everything he needed to keep his pulse from ricocheting across his chest like a rocket.

He was the king, he was the shit, he was — oh fuck, so late to Quidditch. James pulled back with a gasp, looking down at his wristwatch.

Before he could even open his mouth to tell her, once again, he had to go, Lily cut him off. "You're not going. You're staying here with me."

She was right. Who was he kidding? "Okay."

Lily beamed. "Okay."

Next Chapter: Lose Control