Promises (Temporarily on Hiatus)

Her head lolled languidly in my lap, soft hair brushing against my thighs and wet lips glistening in the low light. They were quite pink, flushed a delicate rose, cheeks a matching tincture. Slender fingers gripped the pages of a thick hard cover, nails short, cut down to the quick, thin wrists, feminine, smelt of flowers, the woman form, sublime.

"Really, Severus," Evelyn began in her affected way, wetting the pad of her index finger on the tip of her tongue and turning the page. "I don't know how they get away with it."

"Who?"

"The Governors, of course. I mean really. Professor Sprout is possibly the most innocuous thing. She's about as dangerous as a turnip."

"I suppose that is the point; get rid of the ones that won't fight back. Besides, I know O'Rourke's nephew is a herbologist. They'll have him installed before the start of the term.”

“What’s his name? Ah yes, Tilden Toots. He has a wireless programme on Wizarding Wireless Network.”

“Yes well, Minerva is positively irate; she won't let Pomona go without a fight. I don't see how she can succeed, though; the Governors literally own the school."

"Who do you think is next?" she inquired, sneaking a glance up at me. Those damn eyes! Luminous, sea-green things, disconcerting and strange.

"Well, certainly not me, Miss Harper. I'd love to see them try. But... Sybill is always an option, as most people in their right minds understand that Divination is absolute rubbish. And Muggle Studies is always precarious. Some still feel as though it shouldn't be a part of the curriculum. Other than that..."

"What about, erm, Sinistra?"

"What about her?" I wondered why Evelyn would mention Aurora. There was no reason, as Astronomy was a well-established subject and Sinistra a respectable member of the faculty.

She shrugged coyly, and I saw her bite her tongue. Quite suddenly, she sat up and shook out her locks. "My hair is getting awfully long. Do you think I should cut it again?"

I rolled my eyes. "It hardly matters to me what you do with it, Miss Harper."

"Well then, maybe I'll just shave it all off." She snapped the book shut. "Your library is so dry. Where is the salaciousness, the vulgarity I’ve come to expect from you?" She slunk over like a cat, straddled my thigh, purred and rubbed against me.

"Those are in my private library, Evelyn; one that you will never see."

She had grown excessively affectionate after the caning, petting me, rubbing my shoulders, greeting me with a small peck on the cheek or a fervid kiss. I should have discouraged such actions, as they often foreshadowed an obnoxious clinginess would seize hold of the witch. However, I trusted Evelyn to never let it get to that. She was very discreet and never let on that she was involved with me to anyone. Outside of my chambers, she didn't pay me any attention other than an occasional nod of acknowledgement or a nonchalant "Good morning, Professor." And if I was being honest, I didn't mind some of her more affectionate attentions. Hunched over papers and compositions, having to test numerous potions, both well-made and botched, it was simply a pleasure to have gentle hands grip my shoulders, rub, knead, work out knots and kinks. She'd often pause and lean down to see what I was working on, soft breasts pressing against my shoulder, hair brushing my cheek. Evelyn always smelled of lavender; it exuded from her skin, the fabric of her robes, and hair. It filled my whole body, permeating my pores and percolating my mind. And now my rooms smelt of it as well, my bedclothes, pillows, sofa. I couldn't escape it. But while I may have found it irksome at first, I had built up a tolerance for it, perhaps even a fondness. The scent became part of my surroundings, ingrained itself, just like the witch.

I was jolted from my reverie by a gentle squeeze on the inside of my thigh. "At your... house. I always forget you professors are human." She pressed her fingers to my temple and, in a very familiar gesture, pushed some stray strands of hair off my face. "I'm leaving."

She stretched upward, pushing her hips and chest forward, slightly protruding nipple inches from my mouth. She clearly wasn't wearing a bra.

"Any reason?" I inquired, watching indifferently and she stood up, smoothed her skirt, straightened her robes, shook her head, hair tangling, small feminine gestures.

"Too stuffy down here. I think I'll go for a walk. Have a lovely day, Professor." And she left without a backwards glance.

Damn tease.

I was more worried than I had let on. This cull, this systematic expulsion of certain members... I had yet to let Evelyn know that the arithmancy professor, Vector, had also been let go as well; the excuse: she was unable to pay some fees due to the school. Needless to say, any one of us would have loaned her the money, but the Governors refused to reverse their decision.

I had been struggling to ascertain their motives for some time. I finally decided that this was part of their campaign to "revitalise" the school, bring in fresh faces and update the institution. The final act, I supposed, would be to install Lucius Malfoy as Headmaster. I didn't feel threatened, personally; I don't think they'd dare get rid of anyone directly associated with the Order. Our names were so well-known and respected that it would be an upset to get rid of Minerva, Hagrid, or myself.

It's not that I didn't respect Lucius and all his accomplishments; he was an intelligent man with a good head for business and an unwavering dedication to his undertakings. However, all these attributes—though positive in most situations—didn't necessarily suit the position of Headmaster. In my opinion, the head of the school should be concerned with academic matters more than fiscal ones, sensitive to the needs of the students and faculty and not as indifferent as Lucius, and cerebrally cultivated. Lucius was a very clever man, but he was not an academic. He had a family, as well, a wife anyway, and the position of Headmaster was usually a celibate one; it was such a demanding position that relationships often withered under the toll.

And, in all honesty, something about it seemed wrong to me. TThough I didn't believe Lucius was ever a truly an idealistic follower of the Dark Lord, I had witnessed him murder innocent victims. In his quest for power--for survival, Lucius Malfoy had dabbled in things too dark for him to be called blameless. Not that I hadn't done the same, not that I wasn't just as despicable, but I felt the school needed—deserved someone with a clean slate, a man or woman who had the ability to not only revitalise the school, but do so without a history like ours. Someone like Aurora Sinistra. She was a brilliant, level-headed, young (only in her late thirties), and decisive woman who was perfectly capable of running the school. She was one of the few members of the faculty that I truly respected, that I felt was on my level, and she had an efficient manner about her that would suit the position. I trusted her implicitly.

I began teaching Potions the autumn of 1981; I was young, not much older than some of the seventh year students. I fell hard for Aurora—not in love, of course—but in a lusty sort of haze. She was gorgeous: a voluptuous, sensual, brilliant Ravenclaw, whose skirts were always a bit too short and whose smile was always pouty and suggestive. She began the flirtation; perched impertinently on my desk, playfully stroked my arm, the back of my hand, not to mention my ego, wiggled her arse at me as she strutted about. It was my first affair, I asserted; I had been with other women before, but they were either paid or unwilling participants. I considered Aurora to be my first real partner. She and I remained good friends and often reminisced about that first year. We never rekindled it; she felt as though it would tarnish the sweetness, the perfection of that first liaison and thought it better to keep what we had platonic.

The similarities between Aurora and the proceeding women varied. After she graduated, the next few girls were as close to her as I could manage, when she rejoined the staff, I almost resented her reappearance and picked those that seemed to be her polar opposite. It became a compulsion, these trysts, one that I felt no need to stop. I was insatiable. But it had died down since. I was no longer a hormonal young man, but an adult, one that could restrain his desires, mostly.

Evelyn would be my last, I had decided. It was the perfect way to end it, really. Aurora and Evelyn were almost twins, in regards to their personality: precocious, sardonic, arch, with a naughty streak that often landed them over my knee. I had used the same nullification spell on Aurora when she was a student, and to this day, I had yet to hear her say "no" to me. They were both fiercely intelligent and strong women that commanded my respect. Though, there were some differences. Physically, they were perfect opposites. Aurora was short and dark, Evelyn long and fair; Aurora was shapely with the most delicious curves, Evelyn willowy with perfectly perky breasts; Aurora's eyes were a bottomless black void, Evelyn's a water-green, piercing. But even beyond the physical, they differed. Aurora had been much more flirtatious, carefree, bold. I must admit that I had been forward in my seduction of Evelyn. Instead of letting her come to me, I had pressed her over my desk, initiating the whole thing. Though, I think these discrepancies suited me at each point in my life. When I was young, I was more tolerant of the coquetry and the immaturity of such flirtations; by the time Evelyn entered my life, I wasn't interested in it. Evelyn's cheek never quite crossed into the realm of being coy or coquettish which I appreciated. Had their personalities been reversed, Aurora more sombre and reserved, Evelyn forward and a bit of a tart, I can't say I would have engaged either of them at all.

But Evelyn was not Aurora. I respected her for who she was: a woman in her own right, one whom I had developed a particular... fondness for. Beyond the mere satiation of my baser desires, Evelyn Harper slaked a more refined thirst for intelligent discussion and companionship. I was an introverted man that fed off solitude and my own alienation from others, but having a body next to me, a living, breathing, pulsing entity, offered me some comfort. If nothing else, Evelyn was a balm.

I shut my eyes and allowed my mind to wander; first to Evelyn and then to Aurora until they became a single sublime entity. And then I pictured them together with me in bed, kissing me, tasting me, tasting each other. It was an indulgent fantasy but a satisfying one nevertheless.

There was a loud knock on my door, and I stood up and wrapped my robes tightly around me, concealing my semi-erect cock, which was pressing against my trousers. I opened the door just a sliver before Evelyn pushed her way in. I had never seen her so irate. She was clutching an envelope in one hand, the other tugging at her roots.

Evelyn's mouth tried to form words, but she couldn't articulate exactly what was the matter. She pushed the letter against my chest before sinking onto the couch and burying her face in her hands

It read:

My dearest Evelyn,
Though we have not met, I feel as though we are already connected on a plane far higher than this one, and I know this will mean something to you, as you come from a very spiritual family. I know a lot about you: that you will appreciate the poeticism of such a statement, that you will love me, Evelyn. I can feel it. Women practically fall at my feet, begging for me to engage them. They worship me almost instantaneously, so I don't see why you should be any different. When your parents told me that they were using Oxford as a means of ensuring your complicity, I had to object. I didn't feel the need to twist your arm like that! And certainly, if your attending university will endear me to you more, then I have no objections. But we will be married before then, you understand, by late June, I should say. I understand that the practical apprenticeship comes first, but I want you to know that this will not prevent me from performing my duties as your husband; I expect you home on the weekends and on all holidays. Listen, my love, I know we can be happy together, provided you are willing and committed to making this spark grow.
All my love,
Your Betrothed

Inside the envelope was a gleaming ring, an obscenely large diamond inlaid in the band. I set both on the table and sat next to Evelyn. She was crying softly into her hands and I wrapped my arms around her. She turned into me and wept silently on my shoulder.

"I don't want to marry him," she sobbed. "I can't."

"He seems... nice," I ventured. "Well, he seems to, erm, like you."

She pushed me away and grabbed the letter. "'I know you will love me, Evelyn, I can feel it' or how about 'I feel as though we are already connected on a plane far higher on this one.' Severus, he's a pontificating, pretentious, narcissistic bastard." Her lip began to wobble again and she resumed her place on my chest. I sank back onto the sofa and allowed her to align her figure along mine. "I could have dealt with a marriage of convenience," she continued, the buttons of my vest pressing into her cheek, her head tucked just under my chin. "I could have suffered indifference. But... You know me, Professor, you know that I can’t stand sentimentality or utter bollocks like that. Different planes, my arse. I hate him."

"You don't even know him."

"I hate him," she hissed, offended by my interjection. "June. Severus, June is six months away. And he thinks he knows me! Thinks I'm a spiritual person. He doesn't know me at all."

"Of course he doesn't," I reassured her. "Of course not."

"You know me," she whispered.

"I like to think so."

For the record, I never wanted to be emotionally involved with her. Evelyn Harper and I were supposed to fuck and perhaps even have some intelligent discourse about various subjects. But this witch had somehow managed to coerce me into something more than a superficial screw; there was no escaping it. Now that I had reached this point, I couldn't turn back.

She fell silent, the only sound in the room was a muted sort of whimpering. I felt her chest vibrate against mine, fingers grip my shoulders, feet lightly stroke my insoles. It had been quite some time since I had comforted a woman, the last time I could recall was with Sera Avery, my last conquest, on our first night together. She was a virgin, unfortunately, and she cried for a good while after. I spent the rest of the evening stroking her hair, trying to get her to calm down enough so I could make her take an oath of secrecy.

I pressed my hand to the back of Evelyn's head, ran my fingers through her silken blonde hair, rubbed the scalp, smoothed, spun, and stroked. She calmed down considerably and soon was still. Her weight was gentle against me, feet tucked under my leg, hips against mine, mouth slightly parted.

She sat up, but I kept my hold on her anyway. "I'm sorry, Professor. That was very dramatic of me, I suppose."

I nodded gravely. "Of course."

She offered me a begrudging smile, played with the hem of her skirt, picked at a small ladder in her stocking. Evelyn picked up the ring from the table and held it as though it were a piece of litter she had found on the street.

"How much do you think I could get for this?" she inquired mischievously before tossing it onto the table. Eyes rimmed red from crying, cheeks flushed and lips wet. I couldn't resist. I pressed my mouth against her exposed collarbone, placing hard kisses against the tender skin, while inhaling her intoxicating scent. I felt her fingers against my scalp, stroking and massaging hair.

I stopped my fervid attack on her neck and straightened my robes. “I have a pre-term staff meeting to attend, Evelyn. I'm going to be bold and inform the staff of Lucius’s plan to become Headmaster."

"But what about Faire?"

"I'll take care of him. I trust you can wait here while I’m away.”

“Of course, sir.”

“The lavatory is through there and... I grant you full access to my library. I've glamoured a few... lewder novels. There on the third shelf of the third cabinet: A History of Ashwinder Eggs: A Collection in Three Volumes. No one would think to check those.”

Her face immediately lit up at the mention of my collection, and she gave me a rather hasty embrace.

“Well goodnight,” she chirped. “Don’t hurry back. I’ll be fine. Have a nice meeting.” She was nudging me closer to the door.

“All right, all right,” I obliged her by leaving and letting her to her books.

Staff meetings were always held in the faculty room, which was located on the fourth floor in the west wing. Everyone looked a little worse-for-wear, hair limp, dark circles under their eyes. One would expect everyone to be refreshed and invigorated by the time off, but the holiday mainly served as a means of catching up on marking papers and working out the syllabus for our respective courses. The weather didn't serve all of us well, either. Though I may have thrived in the cold, some of the sunnier members looked slightly wilted.

Minerva checked our names off the list and started the meeting with a terse speech on how we all must remain strong in times like these, how we cannot let the loss of certain members of the faculty interfere with the way we function as a group. Minerva led these meetings because of her authority as Deputy Headmistress, though it was an empty title now.

"I'm too old, Severus," Minerva confessed to me privately. She had invited me over for one of her bi-monthly chess games and looked so worn and shrunken. Normally, Minerva appeared to be the Rock of Gibraltar, immoveable and impassive. Even as a student, I recognised her impressive self-possession. Though I knew that mentally she was as capable as ever, physically she was weakening.

"Does anyone else have anything to add?" she asked crisply, hastily scanning the room.

"Yes," I pronounced slowly. "But first, Jonathan, do you think it would be possible for you to track down Lucius Malfoy? This concerns him."

"Yes," he returned, springing up. "Of course." As soon as the door shut behind him, I locked it with my wand.

"I must be quick," I explained to them. "I expect they'll be back soon. I regret not mentioning this sooner but I've been distracted as of late..." I paused to think of Evelyn but quickly banished her from my mind. "The fact is that Lucius is contending for the position Headmaster. There is nothing in the by-laws that says he can't be, and if we don't decide amongst ourselves who will succeed Dumbledore, I see no way to prevent him from achieving his goal. Money talks, as they say."

"But he's not even a professor!" Flitwick protested.

"Exactly my point. The fact of the matter is, while Lucius being Headmaster may not destroy Hogwarts, I do believe it will undermine the fact that this is an academic institution, not a business. I expect you all to be discreet about this." I gave a hard look to Professor Babbling, the Ancient Runes teacher, whose name was eerily suited, as she had a tendency to speak loosely.

"I can't do it, Severus," Minerva protested.

"I know, Minerva. I wouldn't ask you to."

"What about you, Severus?" Hagrid spoke. The man had developed a certain... affection for me after the truth about my role in the War was revealed. I found it most disturbing.

"I think not," I scoffed. "I learned how very unsuited I was for that position during my brief tenure. No, I propose that Aurora take the job."

Everyone turned to stare at the witch, who looked frightfully surprised at the suggestion.

"But of course!" Minerva barked. "Why didn't we think of it before? Aurora, dear, you're just the sort."

"Severus," she hissed darkly.

"No, no, Minerva's quite right," affirmed Flitwick. "I'm quite convinced that you have the right head for it all, you're quite savvy."

"I... I don't know," Aurora glanced around the room, fingers gripping her hair. I felt bad about putting her on the spot like this, and I hoped our relationship wouldn't suffer because of it, but the fact of the matter was, we were running out of time. This was not the time to sit back and say nothing. Decisions had to be made.

"You needn't decide now," Charity Burbage, Professor of Muggle Studies, assured her softly. "Right, Severus?"

"Of course not," I replied hastily. "Just... consider the possibility."

"Why did you send Jonathan away?" Sybill inquired in her hollow, throaty voice.

"Ah, almost forgot. Faire is Lucius's nephew, so we must be on our guard."

"Merlin!" Minerva exclaimed, leaning back in her chair. "Merlin..."

The door swung open and both Lucius and Faire stepped into the room.

"Ah just the man we wanted to see," I greeted them with as much warmth as I could muster. "Lucius, we have a question about the budget and need your expertise."

--/--

"Sinistra, wait!"

Aurora marched furiously away from me, not paying any heed to my words. I caught her upper arm and half-led, half-dragged her into an alcove.

"I'm not some child you can boss about, Severus. Let me go."

"Please, Aurora." I loosened my grasp but didn't release her entirely.

"You should have talked to me first. It wasn't fair of you to put me on the spot like that."

"I don't ever remember asserting that I was a 'fair' man."

She stood there, squirming. I was always astounded by the level of control I still had over her.

"I don't know if I could do it—I mean, if I'm capable."

"Just... think about it, Aurora."

She nodded and offered me one of those sensual, lazy smiles. "Good night, Severus."

"Good night."

I strolled back to my chambers, both relieved and anxious. Aurora's decision would determine the fate of Hogwarts, and I hoped she'd make the right one. I felt as though a weight had been lifted, and I perked up a bit when I remembered that I had left Evelyn in my chambers. Surely, she was sufficiently aroused by now.

Upon entering my apartments, I noted that she wasn't in the sitting room or the bedroom and that A History of Ashwinder Eggs: Volumes One & Two were stacked neatly on a low table. The only other place she could be was in the bathroom. I tentatively opened the door.

Evelyn's legs were draped carelessly over the edge of my clawfoot bath. It was apparent she had been there for some time: her skin was pruned and pink and cheeks flushed a florid. She was singing a breathy little air, at times humming the words she didn't know. Her voice was not pretty, but raspy and low and though she looked like a siren, she sounded nothing like her fairer kin. I believe she knew that because every time she hit a sour note, she'd wince and giggle a bit.

Evelyn's eyes were closed; anyway, she didn't make any move to acknowledge my presence. I had removed my frock coat, waistcoat, cravat, and Oxford shirt before noticing the singing had stopped. Glancing over, I saw that the girl had leaned forward against the rim of the tub and was staring at me with her large green eyes. She smiled.

"You're awfully late," Evelyn lilted. Her hair was plastered to her forehead and cheeks, giving her a rather eerie appearance. Her physiognomy, impish, with an upturned nose, pink cheeks, and well-formed lips that were parted slightly, was more attractive than ever.

"I do apologise Miss Harper," I returned. "As you know I am under a considerable amount of stress as of late."

"Yes, I know. How did the meeting go?"

I recounted the night's events to her, and she listened attentively.

"Headmistress Sinistra. It has a certain ring to it. Well, there's some hope yet, I suppose... Did she volunteer?"

"No, I put her name forward," I explained, tugging off my socks.

"Join me?" I turned back towards the girl and saw she had settled onto the enamel porcelain slipper. Her perky breasts buoyed gently on the water and all thoughts of the meeting were rapidly dispelled. She gave me an expectant look, and I couldn't help but smirk at her eagerness.

I dropped my trousers and walked swiftly over to the bath. Steam curled up lazily from the surface, and Harper quickly tucked her legs in to make room for me. I eased myself into the large, scalding pool and spread my legs along the sides. It wasn't often that I had the time or energy to truly utilise such a stunning example of Victoriana. My bathing usually consisted of a hasty shower, often cold and always alone. I secured my hand around Evelyn's thin freckled wrist and pulled her to me. Her smooth legs matched mine almost identically, her back against my chest and head lolled lazily on my shoulder. She wriggled against me, Harper's pert bottom grinding against my stiffening cock.

"Continue that little ditty you were singing, Harper."

She craned her neck up at me. "Oh, n—” A small coughing fit ensued. “I'm absolutely atrocious."

"Miss Harper, I insist that you continue." I could tell I was making her uncomfortable.

"Sir, I—"

"Evelyn..." I knew her weakness to be familiarity; she couldn't resist a tender stroke on her upper thigh and my using of her Christian name.

She fidgeted again before picking up the tune. It wasn't any sweeter than it had been when I wasn't there, but her voice seemed oddly suited to the song. There was always a hint of melancholy that pervaded her speech.

"Or would I were a little burnish'd apple
For you to pluck me, gliding by so cold
While sun and shade you robe of lawn will dapple
Your robe of lawn, and your hair's spun gold."

I hummed along with my discordant chanteuse, pressing my mouth against her ear. As she concluded, I slipped my hand farther up her legs to that sweet apex she so vehemently guarded. As proof of that last assertion, I will point out that Evelyn clamped her legs shut so as to prevent any further progression. She shifted around to face me and began to place girlish, insubstantial kisses along my shoulders and neck, and I indulged her, allowing her to tease my flesh with her mouth. She stopped for a moment to scoop up a handful of water and soaked my head and face. I spluttered agitatedly and pinched her sharply on her round bum, inciting her to frown and push my damp hair off my forehead.

"You have a widow’s peak," she chirped. "If you were a woman that would mean that you’d survive your husband. Can’t imagine how it relates to you though."

I rolled my eyes and pushed her slowly to the other side of the bath. I opened my mouth on her neck and firmly bit down. I had pre-emptively secured her wrists at her hip and used my other hand for leverage. My mouth moved lower, which was met with much appreciation by Miss Harper. She slid further up the porcelain wall, allowing me to have access to her breasts without having to submerge my head. I had thought about this all day, excited myself to the point of mortification more than once over the course of the morning and afternoon. In fact, I had been thinking of a rather delicious scenario of me giving her a good cropping out of doors, when she burst in, bemoaning the start of the term and asking when the corsets would arrive.

I laved my tongue over her breasts, avoiding her pebbling nipples and flushed pink areolae. I was determined to break this silent demeanour of hers. Slowly I engulfed a large majority of her breast in my mouth, pulling the flesh between my lips. The girl shuddered, but didn't let out a single moan or mewl. I repeated the same attentions on the other, this time biting down heavily on her now fully erect nipple. Again she jerked, but refused to be vocal. I frowned slightly.

"Miss Harper, you are stubborn," I mumbled darkly. My hand released their grasp on her wrist and I began to work my fingers towards her folds, and pinched her nipple sharply when she attempted to block my access.

I slipped my fingers in easily, but this was no surprise; she was always aroused and willing. I felt her muscles clench around my two digits as I smoothly thrust them in between her spread legs. My mouth once again began working on her breasts, this time not restraining myself. I looked up to see her biting her lower lip. I narrowed my eyes at her and bit down viciously, finally eliciting a squeak from my usually mute partner. I sucked harder on the nib and my fingers began to move more rapidly and added another finger, sliding against her contracting walls and stretching their unfathomable tightness. Now she was whimpering, lips gaping and eyes squeezed shut.

I removed my fingers, and Evelyn's eyes snapped open. She moaned (which was her strongest vocal reaction to date) and I replaced the digits with my now rigid length. I began building up to a pace that suited us and listened with a fine tuned ear for any more sonances of satisfaction.

I leaned in close to her ear. "Miss Harper, I demand that you stop being such a goddamn prude and show some appreciation for my ministrations."

I slammed into her harder, water sloshing over the sides and onto the floor. Harper slipped up and down the side of the bath, bouncing obscenely. One hand found her breast and began pinching and massaging the ripe pome. Her breathing, though laboured, soon became pants, which soon became moans of satisfaction. Sensing (albeit vaguely) that some mission had been accomplished, I set to bring about my own completion. Harper herself had climaxed sometime before and was approaching her second. The copulation became more and more frantic and soon I felt my own satiation imminent. There was nothing.

And then I found my head slumped on Evelyn's now rhythmically rising breasts. She had a hand on my shoulder and another in my hair somewhere. I was sprawled out between her spread legs and the water was turning from tepid to chilly. I lifted myself off of her and stood. There was a stack of towels nearby and I grabbed one for myself and one for the thoroughly wrinkled, waterlogged witch stepping out of the tub. I handed her the cloth after wrapping my own around my waist and admired her round bottom as she bent over to dry off.

"I expect you to react in that manner henceforth. Do I make myself clear, Miss Harper?"

"Yes, sir," she replied smartly, and I led her back into the bedroom.