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Warm. Soft. She moaned. He shifted on the bed, putting his lips to her throat. Chocolate. It was everywhere, in the air, on the sheets, all over her body. He slid his hands down her back, crushing her hot, sweet, fragrant form to him. From somewhere deep in his chest, he growled her name—a hungry, desperate sound vibrating against the walls. He rolled and she rolled, too, spreading her legs for him. Yes. Oh, yes. Love. He kissed and licked the skin from her chin to her hips. Darker chocolate, rich, heady and strong like coffee filled his nose and mouth and he plundered her body searching for the remnants of last night’s chocolate-dipped treats. Soft fur tickled his chin. He ducked his head lower and she sighed her aproval. Spreading the flesh, he pressed a kiss at the mouth of the world’s most remarkable canal—the hot, slick fist that had squeezed him so tightly, loved him so generously only hours before. Lapping greedily at the tender spot, he held her down, pinning her with his elbows. The part of his brain still functioning reminded that him her rolling hips would soon give way to bucking. “Honey,” she purred, kneading the mattress with her clever, wicked little hands. He grunted in heartfelt agreement, as her sweetness began to flow over his tongue and down his parched throat. So hot and so creamy, she was a feast for his never-ending state of starvation. He needed this like he needed the sun, not for his survival—that pain-ridden, pathetically overrated condition in which he had spent most of his life—but to thrive. To live and be comfortable in his skin, man and animal, this was the secret wish of every one of his kind. It was so strange. Such a simple solution, and yet it took him so long, nearly four decades in fact, to figure it out. She cried out above him. So close. He raised his head slightly, slowing and softening his strokes. Not yet, he thought. Stretch it out. Make it last for her. “More… Faster…” She grunted in protest, not opening her eyes, but still reaching for him. He was quick. “Shh. I’m not going anywhere,” he said, sliding his hands under her and his thumbs into her, massaging the sides and plunging the depth of her seeping well. “Just slowing the pace a bit.” “Put your mouth on me,” she demanded, thrusting her hips wantonly against his hands. He chuckled under his breath. Such the little tyrant she was! His tongue grazed the tip of her previously neglected nub. “Or what?” She didn’t answer. He licked her again. “Ah-ha-hi-I-I’ll make you…ah-uh…” And again. “You’ll make me…ah…uh?” he said, emphasizing the moans, adding his forefinger to his thumbs inside her. “That doesn’t sound so bad. In fact, I could think of several less pleasant things.” Still too lazy to open her eyes, her hand groped for him, tangled in his hair and pulled. Hard. “You’re talking, when you should b-” He retaliated. “…uhh…yeah…” she gasped. Looking up at her passion-lit face, he could not help but marvel at his good fortune. Amidst the lost and the lonely in this hideously ostentatious city, he completed his task for the Order. He found the Slayer, who also happened to be loveliest girl imaginable. She had smiled at him. With the money Albus had given him, he bought her drinks. She agreed to join the war. He bought her more drinks. Somehow, against all possible odds, she declared her love for him right in the middle of that loud, tawdry, little bar. Although he was a tad pissed at the time, they managed to Apparate safely to the only wizarding chapel in Las Vegas. And now she was here, in his bed—well, he was in her bed, as it was her room—but otherwise, it was perfect. He inhaled her dark, rich scent. Between her legs, he had found his reason for being, his purpose. His previously unaccounted for pride. If she would but let him stay, breathing in her scent, touching and tasting, listening to the breathy symphony of her pleasure, he would never willingly leave her. Bracing his elbows against the sheets, he raised her up, her pelvis resting in his hands, hovering 8 inches above the bed. Slowly, he removed his honey-drenched forefinger and slid it up, rubbing her soft, swollen clit in slow circles. “Fuhhck…” she whined, her eyes squeezed shut, her hands gripping her breasts, pinching and pulling at her nipples. Sweet cream dribbled out of her, over his hands, splattering on the sheet. He swore silently. He had neglected her breasts. Those were supposed to be first. He had intended to go back there, but then, he’d been distracted. He was about to apologize for his oversight and try to make amends, when she whispered, “Fuck… yes…” and a series of pulses, swift clenchings and releasings in her vaginal and anal walls, stole the rest of her words. He shivered. Had she come? He couldn’t be sure. More determined than ever to satisfy her, his lips stroked her skin, pressing a gentle kiss to her septulum. Continuing to massage her from the inside with his thumbs, he dropped his head down and spread his hands apart, separating the smooth cheeks of her buttocks. Dipping even lower, he tilted her hips up and tasted her, dragging his tongue from the back edge of the crease just below her spine, to press into the crevice of anus. Eagerly, he worried the circle the way she had his before, desperately wanting to make her feel what he had. She shuddered. “Please…” She only said the word once, but he heard it over and over in his head, in so many ways, linking her to all the things he had hoped he would hear from a woman someday. ‘Please, Remus, love me. Protect me. Love my body as if this world depended on it. Please build a life with me. Make a home with me. Have a family with me. Please. Please.’ “Please…” she whispered. He nearly came. He shook his head and bit the inside of his cheek. Removing his thumbs from the entrance to her womb, he shifted his hands and lowered her hips. Reaching over the edge of the bed, he fumbled around in the nightstand drawer. “S’ok,” she mumbled. “Don’t need one. We’re married.” He ignored her, finally locating the second set of climax beads she’d mentioned. Dipping them inside her wet center, he lubricated them as well as could be, and then, positioning the first one at her tight little circle of muscles, he pushed in. She groaned. He glanced up at her face. Her eyelids fluttered, threatening to open. Fearful that she may stop him, he laved her clit. Gripping the sheets again, moaning, she tossed her head side-to-side restlessly. Little by little, he nudged the beads with his finger until they were all inside her body. She squirmed against his mouth, bumping his chin. He leaned back, rolling her over on to her stomach. She rolled her hips against the bed, seemingly anticipating his penetration. “Oh. Yess…” But he wasn’t ready for their wedding night to be over yet. Dropping back onto his haunches, he ran his hands over her butt, down the backs of her thighs to her knees, then between them. Up, up his hand slid until once again he was stroking her delicate folds. “More…” she whined, rotating her hips against his hand. He withdrew his hand slowly, caressing her thighs, her knees. |
