To Dare

A/N: Thanks to Minerva Ann McGonagall and Zarahna for reviewing (and also regulars Moon Muse and Pyrostarglow). We're not quite halfway yet, so stick around. Oh and this chappy gets the smut warnings. Not much else happens plot-wise. If you're just here for the adventure part, come back later.

To Dare

Chapter Ten

Thalassa led them back to the corner that served as her bedroom. Once there, though, looking at her large-four-poster bed, her courage nearly failed her. She had absolutely no idea how to proceed. Like most girls from all-wizarding families, she’d had a sheltered upbringing. She possessed a basic understanding of the mechanics of sex, and she brewed aphrodisiacs and contraceptive potions for the apothecary but this, oh Gods. She turned to face her soon-to-be-lovers, nervously biting her lip.

George held out his hand to her. “Relax. It’s still just us. You’ve known us since we were eleven years old.”

She took his hand, giving him a tremulous smile. “It’s only—what if I’m not any good at this? I don’t even know what I’m supposed to do with just one partner. I’ve never,” she dropped her eyes, “I’ve never even seen a man, you know, naked. Just in pictures. Not from the front, anyway,” she amended.

Fred gave her a crooked smile. “Been looking at smutty magazines?”

“No.” She blushed. “Anatomy textbooks.”

“I’m more interested to hear who you saw naked from the back,” said George.

“Never you mind,” she said exasperatedly, letting go of his hand.

“Just saying, you know,” he shrugged. “Be nice to know what we’re competing against.”

“If all you’re going to do is make fun of me…” she began dangerously.

“No, no,” Fred hastened to reassure her. “I suppose we’re just trying to deal with our own nerves.”

“What do you have to be nervous about? This isn’t your first time.”

“It’s our first time with you,” George replied seriously.

“And trust me, the pressure’s all on us,” Fred added.

“Before we forget…” George pulled his wand out of his pocket and pointed it at her. He murmured a phrase and a pale blue light streamed from the end of his wand. It struck her in the abdomen and Thalassa felt as if her insides had turned to ice.

“Oh!” She shivered and her arms broke out in gooseflesh.

“All right?”

She nodded. “I didn’t realize the Infertility Curse would feel like that. It’s so cold.” She put her palms over her belly.

“It’ll pass in a moment,” George told her, setting his wand on the nightstand. Thalassa handed him hers as well. He was right; the cold was already beginning to fade.

She felt Fred’s hands, warm and comforting, on her shoulders. He kissed the sensitive spot behind her ear and she closed her eyes. “Don’t worry about being good, just be yourself. That’ll be more than enough.”

“Not very romantic, Fred,” George chided almost lazily. He put his hands on Thalassa’s waist and brushed his lips against her opposite temple.

Held between them like this, she was fully aware of their strength. Her earlier words echoed mockingly in her head. ‘If you did get carried away there wouldn’t be much I could do about it.’ She trembled. “I don't love Fred for his ability to say the right romantic words.”

“So why do you love me?” he whispered in her ear.

She reached up to caress them both. “Later,” she murmured.

George feathered light kisses across her cheek, on her closed eyes, even the tip of her nose before capturing her mouth. Fred moved the heavy fall of her hair aside to nibble the back of her neck. It was only a little awkward. She couldn’t tilt her head too far in any direction, but they adjusted their postures to accommodate both her and each other.

Their hands were roving over her body now, Fred’s tracing smooth downward spirals on her back, George’s sliding up over her ribs to gently caress her breasts. She arched her back, rational thoughts scattering before the onslaught of sensations. She felt the cool kiss of air on her skin as her robe slid from her shoulders. Again, they’d managed to undress her without her even realizing they’d unfastened her robe. She lowered her arms and let her robe fall to the floor. Fred took a step back to admire her tattoo.

“This is brilliant,” he said, tracing the sinuous lines with one fingertip.

Thalassa pulled her hair forward over one shoulder to expose the entire design. “I’m sorry. I forgot you hadn’t seen it.”

“You forgot? You mean George has already seen it?”

She glanced up and scowled at the smug smile on George’s face. He immediately tempered his expression to an apologetic grin. “Yes. That last night I worked late, after dinner he gave me a massage.” She turned and saw that Fred’s lips were set in a grim line. She put her hands on either side of his face and pulled his mouth down to hers. She swept her tongue past his lips and, there was no other word for it, she plundered his mouth. When she released him, a glazed look had replaced the jealous anger in his expression. “You asked me to decide and I have,” she said quietly. “If you can’t live with that decision, tell me now before we all get hurt.”

He swallowed. “I can live with your decision as long as you’re sure you feel the same for both of us.”

“I’ve already told you I do,” she said impatiently. “You’re just going to have to take me at my word until I can prove it to you.”

“That wasn’t very tactful, was it?” He gave her a sheepish look.

“No, but it was honest,” she smiled slightly. She glanced over her shoulder. “George?”

“The fact that you love us both doesn’t change the way I feel about you.”

Her smile widened. “Then don’t you think the two of you are wearing too many clothes?” She was rewarded with their trademark grins. While they quickly removed the offending articles of clothing, she pushed the lightweight summer duvet to the foot of the bed.

“Do you want the lights out?” George asked.

“No. At least, not all of them.” She pointed at the candles set in cressets on the walls and they winked out, leaving only the ones on the nightstand burning.
“That’s all right, isn’t it?” she asked uncertainly.


“It’s fine. Whatever makes you more comfortable,” Fred answered, reaching for her again. One hand went to her waist to draw her up against him and she shivered at the touch of his bare skin against hers. He nearly shivered as well. The feel of her was intoxicating: the hard points of her nipples brushing against him for an instant before the fullness of her breasts crushed against his chest; her hands skimming along his ribs as she slid her arms around him; the satiny softness of her belly pressing against his hard sex. He ran his other hand through her hair and lowered his mouth slowly to hers, watching as her eyes drifted closed.

George knelt behind her on the bed and trailed open-mouthed kisses down her spine. His lips on her skin made Thalassa squirm. When he slowly ran his tongue back up, she shuddered and made a tiny mewling noise. For Fred, her reactions were incredibly arousing, despite the fact that it was George’s attentions that caused those reactions. He knew if he and George could set aside their jealousy and work in partnership, they could give Thalassa far more pleasure than either of them could alone. And Fred wanted to give her pleasure. Her moans and sighs were the sweetest of music and her artless responses more erotic than the skilled efforts of any of his more experienced past lovers.


Thalassa was drowning in sensation. Pleasure rippled in all directions from each thrilling caress, from each molten kiss. She could feel her fears and uncertainty, but those emotions were as insubstantial as the morning mist, burned away by the fierce light of loving attention. Fred cupped her breasts in his hands, brushing his thumbs across her nipples. Then he bent his head and repeated the caress with his tongue. She felt George’s fingers on her chin, turning her face towards him so he could claim her lips. Head spinning and legs like jelly, she thought she had swooned as her world suddenly tilted. She panicked and clung tightly to Fred and George until she felt the softness of the cotton sheet against her back.


George stretched out on his stomach next to Thalassa. He squashed the spark of resentment he felt at the sight of Fred’s hands on her. This wasn’t how he thought it would be, loving her for the first time. In none of his dreams and fantasies had he ever imagined he’d have to share her with his twin. But, he reminded himself, he wanted her to be happy. If Fred did that for her, well, George supposed he ought to be grateful there was room in her heart for him as well as his brother. He’d best get on with his share of ‘making her happy,’ though. She’d said it felt right, having them both touch her at the same time, and he’d waited quite long enough to have the right to touch her. He caressed her face, running his fingertips lightly over brow- and cheekbones. Her lips curved into a smile and he traced that arc as well. She caught his finger gently between her teeth and flicked the tip of her tongue against the sensitive pad. The simple caress sent a bolt of sensation sizzling to his groin. He gasped in response and she released him to smile again. He trailed his hand down the taut column of her throat, feeling her purring moan.


Fred skimmed his fingers across Thalassa’s abdomen and watched the fluttering reaction of her muscles. He loved the texture of her skin, soft like some fine fabric, but warm and alive. He brushed his lips over her flesh; remembering the horrible burn that had been there and how he and George had been forced to bully her into letting them take care of her. He smiled between the kisses he scattered down her side. She was fiercely independent, so determined not to need anyone’s help. He knew it drove George mad, but Fred found it endearing. He also remembered the strained look on her face when she admitted her burns were hurting her. He realized with a sickening jolt that he wouldn’t be able to take her virginity. He couldn’t bring himself to cause her pain, even though it was an unavoidable part of the process. That task would fall to George and he, not Fred, would have the satisfaction of being her first lover. There was something Fred could do, something that wouldn’t be painful at all, that would very likely be a first for her as well, if she’d permit it. I’ve always found it easier to apologize than ask permission, he’d said to George earlier. Time to put that boast to the test.


Thalassa felt a quiver of anxiety in the pit of her stomach as Fred hooked his fingers over the waistband of her knickers. Here was an opportunity to change her mind, to ask him and George to stop. It would be unfair and cruel, but she could give in to her fears. She could even use the excuse that being with both of them at the same time was more overwhelming than she’d anticipated, though that was only a small concern. She opened her eyes a little and locked gazes with George. She could see love and joy there, but also sadness and discomfort. This was difficult for him and, she imagined, for Fred as well. The knowledge renewed her determination to see this through. If they were willing to be with her like this, the three of them together, then she had no business backing out now. After a moment’s hesitation, she shifted slightly to make it easier for Fred to remove the last article of her clothing, a fragile barricade of cotton and lace. She closed her eyes once more and reached up to pull George’s mouth back down to hers. She felt Fred’s hands, coaxing her thighs to open and she obliged. There was the sensation of his warm breath on her for a moment and then his tongue parting her cleft.


“Mmph,” Thalassa pushed George away with a protesting noise. “What are you doing?”

At first, he thought she was talking to him, but he realized she was squirming to get away from Fred. George had been studiously ignoring his brother, but now he turned his head to see what his twin had done that alarmed Thalassa so. He saw the way Fred was positioned between her thighs and understood instantly. “Shh,” George said soothingly to her, “it’s supposed to feel good.”

“But—“ she was being pulled by conflicting tides. George didn’t need a dowsing rod to divine her thoughts. It had felt good, but the idea of Fred, or anyone, putting his mouth on her there was unthinkable to her.

“Thalassa,” Fred began, “if you don’t want me to do this, I won’t. But, like George said, it’s supposed to feel good, and I like doing it.”

“Really?” Her voice was full of disbelief.

“Yes, really. Please, let me show you how good it can feel.”

She wavered. Her internal conflict was plain on her face. “All-all right,” she agreed and lay back down.

George shot Fred a warning glance. Go slow, the look said. Don’t spook her again.

I know what I’m about. Fred responded with a look of his own.


Thalassa expected Fred to continue where he had left off, but he didn’t. Instead, he rained kisses and smoothed caresses all over her thighs and belly. At the same time, George lavished attention on her breasts, kissing and nibbling her flesh. All coherent thought was swept away on a rising flood of passion. A heavy ache settled between her legs and she shifted restlessly, pleading little cries falling from her lips. This time when Fred put his mouth on her, she didn’t shy away. His tongue dipped and swirled, soothed and teased, until she thought she’d go mad. A strange tension began to build in her, and she felt as if she was rushing headlong toward some unknown destination. Her breath came in ragged gasps as she tossed her head back and forth. She cried out when the tension suddenly peaked and she was transported to another realm entirely, a world of brilliant golden light and crashing waves of rapture.

Slowly, the world drifted back. The roaring in her ears quieted and she could hear her own uneven breaths. The crimson haze on the edge of her vision became her bedcurtains. The pale-and-copper blur resolved into a face. George. He smiled. “All right?”

She nodded, since her mouth didn’t seem to remember how to form words. When she’d recovered a bit more, Thalassa licked her dry lips and croaked, “That was,” she stopped, searching for a word to adequately describe her experience.

“Thrilling?” George helpfully suggested.

“Extraordinary?” Fred supplied.

“Intense?”

“Glorious?”

“Intoxicating?”

“Rapturous?”

“Breathtaking,” she decided. Her whole body felt tinglingly alive in a way she’d never experienced before. Just the way George was running his fingers up and down her inner arm gave her the shivers. And Fred’s idle caress, rubbing his thumb against her hip, sent ripples across her belly. Part of her wanted them to stop, to just let her be in that relaxed, sated glow. Part of her wanted them to continue, to take her to that dizzying height again. She felt a twinge of guilt. They’d made her feel so good and she hadn’t done anything for them yet. She slid her hand over Fred’s shoulder in an inexpert caress and felt his muscles roll and bunch under her touch. She caught George’s hand and brought it to her mouth, pressing a kiss into his palm.

“And just what do you think you’re doing?” George teased.

“I haven’t a clue,” Thalassa answered cheerfully. “Didn’t you hear me earlier? You’ll have to teach me what you like.” She turned her smile on Fred to include him in her statement. “I think you’ll find me a dedicated pupil.”

“You’ve done just fine so far,” Fred said with a grin that was almost, but not quite, a smirk. He gave her hip a little squeeze and levered himself up. George took that opportunity to roll Thalassa on her side and slide his arms around her. She felt a tremor run through her that might have been excitement, or might have been nerves. Her hands were trapped between their bodies, palms spread flat against his chest.

“’Teach her,’ she says,” he rumbled. “Love, I have a sneaking suspicion that such knowledge, in your hands, would be a dangerous weapon.”

“What? These hands?” She moved her fingers, stroking along his collarbones.

“Yes, those hands,” he groaned. He put his hand to the small of her back and pulled her tight up against him. “Feel what you’ve done to me.”

Oh, she felt, all right. Every nerve ending in her whole body seemed tuned to his hardness, pressing against her. She slid the hand he’d inadvertently freed down his torso. He recaptured it mere centimetres from her goal. “You said to feel,” she protested innocently. “Isn’t that what you meant?”

“You bloody well know exactly what I meant,” he growled.

“Such language,” she said, eyes wide and a teasing smile lurking at the corners of her mouth.


He bent his head to press his lips to that smile. He traced the curve of her lower lip with his tongue and tasted her silent laughter. It was more potent than firewhiskey, sweeter than anything that could be found on the shelves of Honeydukes, and more satisfying than a Hogwarts start-of-term feast. He could finally admit that her smiles and laughter were treasures worth enduring the most perilous quest. Now, feeling her, skin to skin, he couldn’t believe that he’d ever allowed himself to be distracted from pursuing her by something so trivial as a war. She made a little sound of longing and squirmed, rubbing her body against his. His sex throbbed in response to her innocent seduction. She stiffened, breaking off their kiss, and he mentally cursed his body’s reactions. He hadn’t meant to frighten her.

“Did I hurt you?” Her voice held only a sort of panicked concern and he breathed a quick sigh of relief.

“No, love,” he smiled.

“But you sort of…flinched,” she said, blushing. “Are you sure I didn’t—“

“I’m sure,” he soothed. “It’s a natural reaction when you do something that feels good.”

“Oh.” She dropped her eyes.

“Don’t be embarrassed. I thought I’d frightened you.”

“No, I’m still a little nervous, but I’m not afraid.”


“Of course you’re not,” Fred said as he lay down behind her. “You’re a Gryffindor. You’re not scared of anything, certainly not us.” He ran one finger down Thalassa’s spine, making her wriggle again and George groaned a protest. Fred met his twin’s eyes over Thalassa’s head. George raised his eyebrows questioningly and Fred nodded slightly. George would have to take the lead in what happened next and, in a way, Fred supposed that was as it should be. After all, George had loved Thalassa for longer.

Fred pressed his lips to the back of her neck. She’d liked that, earlier. The move was still good, judging from the noises she was making. He trailed his fingers down her back, seeking sensitive spots along the way. He caressed the curves of her arse, making her shiver again. He felt, more than saw, George’s hand tighten on her waist. And he could hear that his brother was passionately kissing the woman they both loved. George had been right earlier. When they’d done this before, with Tonks, it had been what it was: an experience, made more enjoyable because they’d shared it. Now, the pleasure was inextricably bound up with jealousy. As if she’d sensed his thoughts, Thalassa reached back to caress him. Fred’s breath stuck in his throat as she skimmed her hand along the line of his hip. Surely she had no idea what she was doing to him. He hadn’t felt this out of control since he was thirteen years old.


Thalassa very nearly pouted. If George wouldn’t let her touch him, perhaps Fred would. She carefully stretched her hand behind her and made contact with his thigh. Tracing the lean lines of him, she explored the texture of skin and hair, the hardness of bone and taut muscle. Thigh. Hip. Then, slowly, she brought her hand forward and encircled his sex. She’d never touched a man that intimately before. His flesh throbbed at her touch and she felt a sense of power. He permitted her tentative caresses as her fingertips learned the shape of him. Even as she touched him, his sex seemed to grow larger. He gave a strangled groan and grasped her wrist, stilling her exploring hand. She would have protested, but George’s clever fingers were doing things to her that made her forget everything but the lava flow of pleasure that threatened to consume her.

As Fred shifted out of the way, George rolled her on her back. He moved over her, supporting his weight on his hands and knees. “This next bit is likely to hurt,” he warned her. “But the pain should pass fairly quickly.”

She nodded, indicating her understanding and willingness to continue. She reached out, found Fred’s hand, and gave it a squeeze. She felt George position himself at her entrance and held her breath in anticipation of the pain.

“No, don’t tense up,” he corrected. “That’ll only make it worse. Try to relax as much as possible.”

“Sorry,” she mumbled.

“It’s all right. Just remember to breathe. After this first time, it shouldn’t hurt again.”

“You’re amazing. Do you know that?” Fred murmured close to her ear.

And then George moved, pushing against her and into her. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. She’d felt worse pain, but this was so…personal, so intimate. She tried not to see it as a violation. You chose this, she reminded herself. She closed her eyes tightly and bit her lips shut to keep from crying out.

“Breathe. Breathe,” George urged and she panted through her nose, whimpering a little. Her hands curled into fists, one crushing Fred’s fingers, the other driving her nails into her palm. George stopped moving and the pain began to ease, or perhaps she was just becoming acclimated to it.

“Brave, too,” Fred whispered, kissing away the tears she hadn’t realized were trickling from the corners of her eyes.

“Look at me, love,” George said, and she did, blinking a few times to clear her vision. He gazed down into her face, worry in his brown eyes. “Are you all right?”

She took a deep breath. “Yes,” she said. “But I’m glad to know it won’t hurt like that again.”

“It shouldn’t. If it does, there’s something wrong.”

She nodded. “That’s it, then?”

“Oh no,” he chuckled. “We’re just getting started.” He bent his head and took her nipple gently between his teeth.

“Oh,” she breathed before Fred covered her mouth with his. She tasted the salt of her tears on his lips and for a few moments, she felt each separate touch of hands and mouths in exquisite detail. George teased her nipple with teeth and tongue. Fred stretched her arm over her head and flattened out her hand to tickle her palm. George ran his nails lightly up her side while Fred tweaked her other nipple into a stiff peak. George insinuated his other hand between himself and Thalassa to stroke her most sensitive spot. His touch sent pleasure sweeping through her like a flash flood. That, and all the lesser sensations combined to send her racing toward the edge of blissful insanity.


George took his hand away as he withdrew from her partway. As he slid fully back into her, she shuddered, a reaction that was echoed in the flutter of her internal muscles. He bit the inside of his cheek in an effort to shore up his swiftly eroding control. He wanted her first time to be as perfect as he could possibly make it.

She twined her legs around his, pulling him closer, and arched her back. “George, please,” she whimpered.

Oh Gods, he couldn’t resist her. He began to move, trying to keep a steady, slow rhythm but she had other ideas. She met his thrusts, forcing the pace faster. He groaned. He wanted to savour being inside her. It felt so right, like coming home to a place he hadn’t even known he belonged. She urged him on with incoherent pleading noises. He could feel the tension in her legs. If he could hold on just a bit longer…

She gave a hoarse cry and he felt her pulse around him. Oh Gods. Oh Gods. For an instant, some irrational, animal part of his mind wished he hadn’t performed the Temporary Infertility Curse. The thought of his seed taking root and growing inside her filled him with an unbearable longing. He thrust deep and spilled into her. In those timeless moments, he felt joined to her in heart, mind, and soul as well as body. He nuzzled the side of her neck, feeling her still-racing pulse against his lips. She let her legs slide back down to the bed. He rolled off her to let her breathe, but left his arm draped across her middle.


Thalassa gave a little sigh of disappointment as George lay down beside her. She couldn’t believe how right it had felt to have their bodies joined together, or how empty the unjoining left her. I’ve done it, she thought, I’m a fallen witch. She didn’t feel like she’d fallen from grace, quite the opposite in fact. She chuckled a little.

“Mm?” George rumbled, still nonverbal.

“What’s so funny?” Fred interpreted, murmuring the question against the crook of her elbow.

“I don’t know.” She smiled dreamily. “Too happy to keep it in, I suppose.”

Fred continued nibbling his way up over her shoulder to her neck. She shivered, but even that response was lethargic. He kissed her once on the lips and started to get up.

“Where are you going?” she asked with a lazy smile.

“Well, I—“ His ears went red.

George tightened his hold on her waist in a sleepy hug. “Let him go, love. He just wants some privacy while he, you know, gives himself some relief.”

“You mean you’re going to…by yourself?” She was astonished and a little hurt. His expression was answer enough. “But I thought you and I would make love too.” When he hesitated with a pained look on his face, she thought she understood the problem. “Oh, you probably don’t want to, right after George—“

“No, that’s not it,” he hastened to reassure her. “I don’t mind that. I just don’t want to hurt you.”

“But George said it wouldn’t hurt again.”

“It shouldn’t hurt that badly again, but you’re going to be sore for a couple of days. It’s all right. I don’t mind this.”

“A couple of days?” She didn’t try to keep the dismay out of her voice. “I can’t wait a couple of days. I need for us to make love tonight, Fred.”

“You don’t have to,” he said soothingly. “It was enough for me, what we did earlier.”

She rose up on one elbow, frowning slightly as she searched for the words to convince him. “I can’t explain it, but I need to feel you inside me, even if it hurts.”

“George, help,” he appealed to his twin. “Make her understand.”

“No,” George said, letting go of Thalassa. “This is between you and her.”

She knelt up on the bed and reached for Fred. He groaned as she wrapped her arms around his waist. “Please can’t we just give it a try? If I have to stop, then you can take care of things in whatever way you need to. Perhaps if we go slow--?” She began kissing his chest.

He grabbed her shoulders and held her away. “I’m not going to be able to go slow if you don’t stop that,” he growled. Then he sighed. “Are you sure you want to do this? Because I’m absolutely sure I don’t want to hurt you.”

She nodded solemnly. “I’m sure.” She let him go and edged back to make room for him.

“Lay down, then. I don’t want this to be just about you satisfying my needs. I want you to enjoy this too.”

“Again?” She smiled, stretching luxuriously as she lay down.

“Yes, again. Is it such a chore?”

“Oh, yes,” she teased, her eyes brimming with laughter. “Deadly dull work. Oh! Ha ha. No, Fred, don’t!” she shrieked as he started tickling her. She scrabbled to get out of his reach, but George blocked her escape. She giggled helplessly while trying to fend off Fred’s hands. “S-s-stop it. George, help!”

“No,” he cheerfully refused. “This is between you and him.”

“Then move!”

“Can’t do that either. You have to stay and take your medicine.”

“N-no fair!” she howled.

Fred tickled her for a few more moments before he finally relented and gentled his touch to a caress, letting her catch her breath. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, skimming his palm from her hip to the inward curve of her waist, then up over her ribs. The heated look he gave her threatened to steal her breath all over again.


Fred cupped his hand over her breast, grinning as he felt her nipple tighten and nudge his palm. She was beautiful to him. Of course, he was of the opinion that the naked female form was the loveliest sight on the planet, but this was more than that. Viewed objectively, she wasn’t flawless. Her nose was a shade too large for her face and the line of her jaw was just a bit too strong for the ideal range of feminine beauty. She really was too thin, barely enough of her to fill his arms. There were silvery stretch marks on her hips and thighs, obviously a legacy from gaining and then losing weight through her adolescence. But she had the most graceful hands he’d even seen, and she had good muscle tone in her arms and back from moving heavy cauldrons. Not the same sort of muscles built by playing Quidditch, of course, but she was no china doll. She had a marvellous arse, too, and legs that were surprisingly long. Since the day he’d first seen her in jeans, he’d wanted to feel those legs wrapped around his waist.

He was fascinated by the way she moved, and by the play of emotion on her face in unguarded moments. Like now, when he stroked her skin with tender fingertips. Her eyes were slightly open, her gaze blissfully unfocused. Her eyebrows were slightly raised, as if she were surprised that his touch could still arouse her after twice being brought to climax. He rose up on one elbow to claim her mouth. He ached to join his flesh with hers; she had nearly undone him earlier, with her gentle touch. It wouldn’t be comfortable for her, though, unless he managed to bring her right to the edge before he entered her. Fred lightly pinched her nipple and rolled it between his thumb and forefinger, drawing a moan from her. George tended to her other breast with his mouth. Fred moved his hand lower, gliding over her silken skin, seeking the core of her pleasure. He found George’s fingers already there, delving into her wet folds. Now both of them worked in harmony, jealousy set aside, as they stroked and teased to the accompaniment of Thalassa’s throaty cries. Fred kept at his task as long as he could, until the undulating of her hips proved too seductive for his restraint. He lifted his mouth from hers and removed his hand.

“Come on,” he murmured. “Let’s try this with you on top. It’ll be better that way.” He lay down on his back and guided her to kneel astride his hips.


Thalassa carefully lowered herself onto him until he was fully sheathed inside her. She wasn’t sure what to do then. Earlier, George had led and she followed, but now… Fred slid his hands up her thighs. He began to rock his hips and it felt good. She made a low sound of approval in her throat and tried a complimentary movement. She sensed the angle where their bodies met wasn’t ideal, though, and she shifted the alignment of their joined bodies. That proved much better and she experimented until she found a rhythm that worked. Apparently, it worked for Fred too. His breathing grew uneven and he moaned a sound of pure pleasure. She gave herself over to the demands of her body, opening to take him completely, and moving more insistently on him.


“Thalassa, don’t—“ he groaned, but she was already crying out as the waves of ecstasy broke over her. The feeling of her clenching around him snapped the last thread of his control. He bucked his hips and exploded into her. White spots danced behind his closed eyelids as he gasped for breath. He shuddered as the aftershocks of her orgasm caused his sex to throb almost painfully. She brushed light kisses along his collarbone and up the side of his neck. Her sex convulsed again, making him nearly jump out of his skin. He heard her chuckle and looked into her eyes. She was doing that on purpose, the minx! She sat up and flexed her internal muscles, revelling in her power over him. His heart swelled with love at the sight of her still straddling him, glowing in the aftermath of passion. And oh, Gods, the way she was smiling at him! There was nothing predatory in Thalassa’s expression, only delight at having pleased him. He hadn’t seen a woman smile at him like that since Angelina. His eyes burned and his throat felt like he’d tried to swallow a Bludger. Grasping her waist with his hands, Fred lifted her off him. He felt her stretch out on the bed next to him, but he’d already turned his head and covered his eyes with his arm to hold back the scalding tears that welled up behind his closed eyelids.


Thalassa lay down on her side and reached out to caress Fred, but froze as he turned his head away. She’d expected him to want to hold her, at least for a little bit, afterwards. Instead, he’d pushed her off him and all but turned his back on her. She felt George’s hand at her waist and threw him a look of hurt and confusion over her shoulder. He pulled, rolling her towards him to cradle her against his chest. He stoked her back reassuringly for a few moments before reaching over to pull Fred’s arm down. George saw the look in his twin’s eyes, but refused to have any compassion for him. Fred made Thalassa feel rejected, turning away from her like that. George scowled. Fix it, his glare said. Fix it or I’ll rip that arm off and beat you with it.

Fred took a deep breath and rolled on his side, scooting closer to Thalassa and resting his hand gently on her hip. She gave a great, shuddering sigh and the stiff lines of her back relaxed. He pressed a kiss to the curve of her shoulder. “Thalassa, I—“

“Shh,” she interrupted. “Later.” She reached back with her foot to caress his calf and draw his leg between her own. Then she wriggled her bottom closer to him so they were spooned together from the waist down. George disentangled himself only long enough to sit up and pull the duvet over the three of them. Then he lay down into the safe harbour of Thalassa’s arms. A peace more profound than any he had ever known before filled him and he drifted off to sleep.