When Evelyn awoke the next morning, she was sore again but it was for a far different reason.
She propped herself on her elbow and looked down at the man, the one who left dozens of bite marks on her breasts and inner thighs. He was ravenous last night, hungry for every drop that she could provide until she was too exhausted to continue, and even then he pressed on, taking her in positions she didn't even know exhausted. Always finishing deep inside her, marking his territory. Marking her.
So Evelyn's legs were sore and her pussy was numb and her breasts ached and yet she hardly felt any of it through the pure, dizzying happiness. He was here. Her Tom, her love.
Her grandparents were gone, her cousin sleeping soundly down the hall (thanks to the Quietening Rom spell that Tom had placed), and she was sore from a delirious night of alternating love-making and fucking. Now, Tom lay on his back with his arms tightly around her, holding her while she slept.
Her father didn't return to her dreams but honestly, she wasn't expecting him to. Shadows tore her away and she had a feeling that those shadows were currently lying under her softly dreaming. Tom had proven he could enter her dreams and manipulate them. Why would this one be any different?
"Are you going to stare all morning or are you going to finally kiss me?" Tom drawled in a husky voice that had her feeling warm all over again. His eyes never opened and his body never moved. How did he know she was— "Darling, I can enter your dreams, speak in your mind, and sense your location. This is what you choose to question?"
She smiled softly and bent down to kiss him gently. But Tom had other plans, grasping the back of her neck tightly with his hand as he held her to him. His other hand moved up to the curve of her ass. He firmly grasped the skin, making her gasp. Tom used the opportunity to dive into her mouth, caressing her with his tongue while his hands were quickly making her insides coil.
Sparks rushed from where their lips met, rushing down her spine until they reached her pelvis. Evelyn crawled on top of him, never breaking the kiss. Her back arched before she further pushed against him. "Merlin, Little Dove," Tom growled. "You're feisty in the mornings."
"I want you," she whispered in between kisses, arching her back again and driving her hips to meet his.
Tom growled possessively, smacking her ass as she moved against him. "You don't get to make demands here."
"So you don't want me?"
"Don't be ridiculous. I always fucking want you."
Evelyn hungrily kissed him. He tasted like mint and morning breath; the combination drove her wild. Actually, everything about Tom was driving her wild. His hands gripping her ass, the bruises on her breasts reminding her of last night, his taste, his hips pushing up to meet hers. Evelyn greedily soaked him up, her movements becoming frantic as she became desperate for more. Desperate for Tom.
"You are being so incredibly sexy right now," Tom murmured. "Shall I reward you?"
"Yes," she moaned right as Tom's hand moved to her breast. "Please."
"Please, what?"
"Please, sir."
He smirked against her lips. "Good girl."
Then, Tom finally took control and Evelyn almost came as he rolled on top of her and used his hips to push her into the bed. He thrust against her while kissing her ravenously. Her senses were wholly consumed by Tom. He was in control. He was feasting on her.
"I'm going to make you feel so fucking good," he grumbled before kissing her way down her neck until he reached the spot that made her weak: where her neck met her collarbone.
Evelyn moaned, once again thankful that Tom was a powerful wizard and she could be as loud as she wanted. Heat was rising in her body, the familiar sign of an orgasm already making its way up her spine. "Is this my Christmas present?"
Tom shook his head and continued assaulting her neck with kisses. "No, darling. That is yet to come. Plus, this is much more of a present for me."
And when Tom's teeth bit down on her neck, she was gone. He hungrily bit down on her while she gasped—half embarrassed that she just came from a makeout session, half not caring because Tom could drive her wild with even the simplest of things.
Evelyn ran her fingers through Tom's hair and tugged. Hard. He groaned loudly but didn't move his lips away. The sound vibrated to her very core.
When Tom finally removed himself, Evelyn groaned. "How is everything with you so incredible?"
He smirked. "You say that like I'm done with you."
"Aren't you? It's breakfast."
The look on his face was devilish. "Exactly. And I have an entire feast below me that I'm not about to let go to waste."
Tom's hands slowly wound themselves around her body before they caressed the bruises on her inner thighs. His eyes darkened as they gazed at her naked body. She had been too exhausted to put on pajamas last night, knowing that they would probably be ripped off in the morning anyway.
"And I am going to spend my entire morning buried in my pussy," he purred in a voice that had her melting already.
And with that, Tom sheathed himself inside of her with one thrust. The soreness was immediately gone, replaced by pleasure only he could bring her. He bottomed out inside of her, driving her into the bed until she was grabbing the headboard and biting her lip to keep quiet.
Tom snarled and bent down, using his teeth to rip away her lip so harshly that the taste of blood began to fill her mouth. "Don't you dare fucking keep your noises from me. I want to hear you scream, Little Dove."
And she did. Because the way Tom was moving—thrusting deeply as he ground his hips into her over and over, somehow both fucking and making love to her—made her feel the most pleasure she had ever felt in her entire life. Evelyn moaned every time he entered her and whimpered every time he left. His dick hit the spot that drove her wild over and over until she was seeing stars and almost begging him to stop. Not that he would, not unless she said her safe word and Evelyn was so sure that she might die if he stopped.
"Where shall I come today, darling? In your mouth?" Another thrust. Then, he kissed her. "On your tits?" Again, he thrust before biting down on her nipple. "Inside of you?" And he pushed even deeper inside of her, curling his hips into her while his dick hit a spot that made her cry out his name into the confines of the room.
"There it is, darling," he said with a smirk, loving the way she called out for him. "Do you like it when I come inside you? When your pussy is so full of my seed that it's dripping out of you? Do you like knowing that you carry me with you everywhere?"
"Y-yes. Oh, Tom, yes!" Her toes curled against the soft silk sheets of the bed while her hands moved from the headboard to tug at his hair again. She was close, she always did this when she was close.
"I am the only one that can make you feel like this. Do you understand?"
"Yes," she gasped. "Yes... yours." Because her mind couldn't think of anything else.
"You." Thrust. "Are." Thrust. "Mine." And with Tom's final thrust, he roared before spilling inside of her, pressing his thumb against her clit in a way that had her seeing stars. Jet after jet of warm cum filled her body and the feeling of his essence pushed her over the edge to the most insane orgasm she had ever had.
"Tom," she moaned through the fog of pleasure. Because even in the clouds, he was her anchor to Earth.
"Little Dove," he growled, kissing the spot on her neck he had so harshly bit earlier. She knew that a bruise would be there, a deep hickey that would take weeks to go away. Well, weeks if she wasn't fucking a man adept at healing her.
But Tom probably wouldn't heal this bruise, not when it proved to every man and woman that she was taken, that she belonged to a complete animal who ravaged her every second he had the chance.
Tom's weight settled on top of her, though he didn't pull out. His dick barely softened inside of her, even as Tom was heaving against her body. "Not going to pull out?" she teased breathlessly, already knowing the answer.
He shook his head. "I'll pull out when I'm sure that every inch of your insides has been covered." The possessiveness in both his voice and his actions had her shuddering.
Evelyn stroked Tom's hair as she slowly came back to Earth and he began to do the same. "I love you, Little Dove," he murmured before kissing her forehead gently. It was such a stark contrast to the passionate fucking from only moments before.
She smiled. "I love you too, Tom."
The two of them sat in silence, content to just stare into each other's eyes. Her loving the way his black eyes were like the darkness, him loving how her silver ones were like the stars.
And after several minutes, Tom finally exited her body. He wouldn't take her for any more rounds, not when he knew how sore she was both from her lingering injuries and from his insatiable fucking from the night before.
His arms wrapped around her body before pulling her closely. He spooned her from behind and, at that moment, she had never felt so loved, so protected, than when Tom's body engulfed hers. He nuzzled his nose into her neck and breathed deeply. "I really do love you. I don't tell you it enough."
"You tell me it plenty, at least once a day."
He chuckled. "And yet it is not enough to convey the depths of my affection for you. You have taken every bit of my soul, even the pieces that did not belong to you. And I, pathetically, have been more than happy to give them to you."
"I'm glad you have."
"I'm not a good man, Evelyn. I have killed and tortured many times and I will probably do it many more."
She turned around and kissed him gently, enjoying the way his lips seemed to meld to hers. "I don't want you to be a good man. I want you to be my man."
He smiled against her lips. "I always will be."
"Promise?"
Tom's eyes glinted. "Are you asking me to promise that I won't be a good man or promise that I'll always be yours?"
"I'm asking," she murmured, "you to promise me that we'll have many days like this, happily in each other's arms."
Tom kissed her cheek. "Now that is a promise I can keep."
. . .
It was several hours before Tom and Evelyn made their way downstairs, much to Mattheo's chagrin. She had spent an hour dozing off in Tom's arms before the two bathed together, taking turns lovingly washing their bodies with darkened eyes and soft caresses. Just picking out an outfit that hid most of the love bites took quite a while, as did Evelyn fixing her waves and doing her makeup. She had finally settled on a black dress that hid every bite but the one on her neck, though she reasoned that she probably wouldn't be able to cover all of them, not with her wardrobe.
Mattheo, of course, noticed instantly, making a disgusted face before grumbling under his breath how weird his brother and cousin were. She just laughed as Tom glared.
"So," she began as the three of them finished their lunch. They had missed breakfast—something Mattheo brought up several times as apparently him eating a meal alone in the house was a fate "worse than flying class with Nora Rosier". Evelyn had just rolled her eyes at that. "When is the present arriving?"
"Any minute now," Tom said with an unreadable expression. He had refused to give her any hints about what it was, not one. In fact, when she had started to beg for one, Tom shoved his cock down her throat, saying that her mouth needed something better to do than be nosy.
Evelyn frowned and tried to press into his mind but his mental block was not budging. "Nice try, Little Dove, but you will just have to patient."
She just scowled and followed Mattheo into the den. He sat on the sofa and began to read the book he gave her on basilisks while she attempted to read hers on poetry. But it didn't seem to work because all she could focus on was figuring out what his present could possibly be. It wasn't like Tom was being much help, just sitting in his armchair reading the Daily Prophet. He seemed to fit much better in it than her grandmother ever did, the true master of the house with his mistress beside him.
Tom Riddle, master of Black Manor. Her grandmother would be rolling in her grave if she knew. Well, if Mattheo even put her in a grave. She wasn't sure that he did and, to be honest, she didn't really care. They were horrible people who had given her a lifetime of emotional scars along with a handful of physical ones that the healers at Hogwarts couldn't tackle. And if Evelyn was being honest with herself, she wasn't that great of a person either. She had condoned Tom's killing multiple times with no remorse.
Perhaps they were meant for each other after all.
Another hour passed and Evelyn almost gave up hope on their even being a present—as freedom from her grandparents was more than enough. But then, there was a sound.
A knock.
Evelyn jumped out of her seat. "I'll get it!" she exclaimed, smoothing her skirts as she walked toward the door. Normally, Kreacher would answer it (if anyone could get past the defensive wards at the edge of the grounds) but she was now the mistress of the house receiving her first real guest.
Plus, she wanted to see the present.
Evelyn opened the door, expecting it to be some wizard delivering a package, but was shocked to find it was just a man.
He was tall, though not nearly as tall as Tom, perhaps even a head shorter than him. His hair was long and black, sticking out against his pale skin. He had deep bags under his eyes, which were grey and bright, and Evelyn wondered what had happened to make him so exhausted. His clothes were well-kept but hung loosely on his thin frame. Despite his clear weariness, he was still a rather handsome man, though Tom was much more so.
"Erm, can I help you?" she asked with confusion in her voice.
The man studied her for a moment with an expression she couldn't quite read. It seemed like happiness, longing, and grief all mixed into one. But why?
The man's lips turned upward in something reminiscent of a smile. He stepped into the foyer, making Evelyn back away with hesitation. But she wasn't fearful, not when she felt Tom's dark presence behind her, watching over his little dove like a hawk.
The man had a disbelieving expression as he took in first the room, then her. He stared at her like he knew her but that couldn't be true, could it? She had no idea who this man was. She'd never seen a picture of him nor read about him in the paper. His grey eyes seemed vaguely familiar but she was sure she had never seen him before.
"Who are you?"
His grey eyes looked at her again before his entire expression softened. "You look so much like him," he murmured in a raspy voice.
"Sorry, what?" This was so confusing. Was this man supposed to be her present? If not, why wasn't Tom vanquishing him on the spot? But if so, why?
Evelyn wrapped her arms tighter around her body to provide herself some semblance of comfort. Tom must have noticed this because his hand appeared at the small of her back to steady her. She flashed him a grateful look before turning back to the man in front of her, who was looking at her as if she hung the moon. What is going on?
"Regulus," he murmured. "You look so much like Regulus."
Her breath hitched in her throat. "You knew my father?"
He smiled softly. "I knew him better than anyone on this planet."
"W-what?" And for the first time since this conversation began, Evelyn felt herself falter. Her knees weakened, so much so that she was sure she would have crumbled if it wasn't for Tom's arm around her, now shouldering almost all of her weight.
When the man spoke again, his voice was soft and gentle, as if he could tell that she was almost moments away from crumbling into oblivion.
"My name is Sirius Black... I am your uncle."
Ahhhh, I told you guys you wouldn't guess the present! No one did haha but I've been looking forward to this. Let me know what you think! xx
Also, if you couldn't tell, I'm done labeling the NSFW stuff. Sorry if you like me doing that but it's so hard with couples like this who think and talk about sex a lot so I'm just not going to do it. If you don't like NSFW scenes, you can skip down a few paragraphs until it looks like they're done lol.
Just a little reminder: this is an AU where Voldemort was defeated in 1981, which means that most of the events of the HP books haven't happened. So the whole POA storyline hasn't happened because Peter Pettigrew never escaped Voldy, meaning that Sirius wouldn't have escaped Azkaban to get him. Hopefully that all makes sense :)