Iron Dragons and Firelegs *COMPLETE*

Cht. 12, Gimme Shelter

The evening of August 31 found the happy couple savoring their last moments closeted away in Gryffindor tower. She watched, enraptured as he kissed his way from the arch of her foot to the soft underside of her knee, only pausing a moment before he trailed his lips down to the crook of her hip. Arching her back, she stifled a gasp when his fingers found purchase in the damp moist of her quim, his thumb rubbing deftly against her sensitive nub. Bucking against his hand, she reached quaking hands up to stroke over his chest, pinching nipples and clasping his hips, doing all she could to coax him closer. She found her answer to the predicament by leaning forward enough to suckle his earlobe, which had the desired effect of making him groan against her own ear.

“Oh god, pet, you‘ll be my undoing,” he rasped before leaning down to take a taut nipple between his teeth, nipping lightly. Taunting them both with agonizing slowness, he placed the tip of his throbbing erection against her core and traced lazy circles in the slickness while grabbing her wrists and holding them up by her head.

Writhing in abandon and nearly undone already, she undulated against his steely corded muscles and linked her legs around the narrow hips of her tormentor. “Please, please, if you don‘t take me soon I‘ll lose my bleeding mind!”

“Mmmm…my darling,” he crooned against her throat, a sly smile curving his lips as he felt her pulse rabbiting under his lips. “What manners you have.”

“Well, I suppose since you said please, I really should comply.”

A tortured cry rent deep from her belly as she once again arched her hips in an effort to place him, her hands still bound above her head. Laughing softly in her ear, he at last slid his thick member into her shaft, which clamped around him like a lifeline even as he began a slow torturous glide back and forth making her wriggle even harder against him.

“Oh Lucius, you‘re the living end,” she said, when she found her voice again.

“So I‘ve been told time and again,” he smiled into her hair.

***

Several floors below, Lacey and Snape were enjoying one last nightcap while the strains of the Rolling Stones wafted through the air.

Lacey sat curled in Severus’ lap, one arm crooked around his shoulders with her head propped against the winged back of the chair as he placed his brandy snifter on the small side table and traced his fingers over her cheek. Sighing softly, he placed a kiss on her forehead and simply gazed at her as if trying to commit her face to memory.

“Exactly which one of us do you not have faith in? Is it my fighting skills or yours that you think are lacking?” It was a flimsy attempt at levity, that did nothing to dispel the heavy air in the room. Lacey could not help but think that he felt one of them would not make it out of the next night’s battle.

“You know as well as I, my darling, that anything could happen,” he said gravely, his mouth pursing and his fathomless eyes full of sorrow. “This could well be the last time I hold you in my arms and I want to savor it, in case it is the last memory I have.”

Her eyes swam with the force of the feelings he drudged up, as she inclined her head in acceptance that what he said was absolute truth. She did not trust her voice to speak. Instead, she braced her hands on either side of his face and showered him with light kisses before placing one last breathless, desperate kiss on his curving lips.

“Severus, I love you to the ends of the earth. Even if I don‘t get to say it every day hereafter, you know it regardless. And should it be you who doesn‘t come through--though I can‘t imagine why you wouldn‘t--I know you feel the same.”

“To the ends of the earth, dearest,” he replied, before pressing a kiss to her lips as they trembled. Bracing his arms around her slight form, he lifted her as he stood and carried her over to the bed. At his approach the coverlet and sheets turned down, allowing him to slide her between them.