For the Taking
folder
Harry Potter › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
1,322
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
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Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
1,322
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
For the Taking
Disclaimer: Harry Potter universe is property of JK Rowling. I, sadly, make no money from my fanfiction.
The roar in his ears became deafening when she pushed the material of her bra aside, revealing a creamy white healthy handful of a breast, complete with a pert and puckered nipple just begging to be suckled. It took him a moment to realise that he ought to take action; he lunged at her when it occurred to him to taste her. Remus’ mouth latched onto her nipple then, sucking hungrily, and her moan tore right through him.
“Christ, Narcissa,” he gasped, his breath warm against her skin. “You taste so good; I can’t stand it. I can’t.”
Fingers, long and aristocratic and well-manicured, pulled at his hair as she whispered to him in response, “I’m not going anywhere, Remus. I’m all yours for the taking.”
Her voice wreacked havoc on his senses; it was all he could do not to come right then and there. Narcissa Black, inviting him to shag her. It was almost too good to be true. A Black actually wanted him and that very thought was rather dizzying.
The roar and the pounding and the rumbling all over receded quickly and for one blissful, heated moment, he felt utterly at peace. The light pressure of her fingers against his scalp as she moved them through his hair and the feel of her nipple against his tongue sated him. He felt at home for the first time in months.
I’m all yours for the taking.
And then those things - the roaring, the pounding, the rumbling exploded from within, bursting out of him in a carnal growl. Narcissa withdrew her hand from his hair, settling it on his waist, fingers digging into his flesh. Her mouth opened a tiny bit, revealing gleaming white teeth, teeth that gnashed at his mouth when he crushed his lips to hers.
She tasted of chocolate and Firewhisky, which reminded him of Sirius and he briefly wondered if an affinity for both ran in the family before he felt her tongue in his mouth and her hand undoing the buttons and zip of his fly. He’d barely touched the tip of his tongue to hers when a smooth hand was kneading his arse and a palm was squeezing his erection. His eyes nearly bulged out of his head at the initial contact and then it spurned him into action; he thrust against her hand, lipping and nipping at her earlobe while shoving a hand up beneath the hem of her skirt and snaking down into her knickers so that he could run a finger along her moist folds.
Their wanking of one another quickly became a battle of wills - who would come first? The glint in her eyes meant trouble; he’d often seen that look in Sirius’ during some of their adventures to know a promise of mischief in a Black’s eyes when he saw it. He grinned broadly and toothily in return, his strong white teeth grinding when she thumbed his slit. His retaliation was to shove two fingers up inside her, crooking them against the warm, wet walls in search of that sweet spot.
Apparently he had begun to win their little contest, for he felt her begin to clench down on his fingers and, in an instant, her grip on his cock became nearly unbearable. She was squeezing so hard that it took effort not to come all over her hand as she literally led him to the ground with his cock.
“Twisted veela,” he gasped as she straddled him, pushing his frame more firmly against the hard floor, removing his fingers from inside of her so that he could find purchase on her thighs.
“Now Remus,” she said airily, rubbing almost languidly up and down his leg, “I know you’ve top marks in Care of Magical Creatures; I can’t imagine why you’d mistake me for a veela.”
“I’m. Sure. You. Know. Why,” he grunted, thrusting further into her hand.
Her hand stilled and there was that glint in her eye again.
“I do,” she said casually, and not without a healthy dollop of conceit.
And then she promptly spread her legs apart, held his cock steadily, and sank down onto him, taking him fully inside her in one downward stroke.
He moved beneath her, arching his hips up and moving as deep inside her as he could manage, a low growl of appreciation sounding when she ground against him in response. The growl turned into a moan and they began moving together purposefully, her rocking and thrusting pressing him more and more into the stone floor; he was quite sure he’d bear scrapes and scratches as a sign of their encounter afterwards. He was normally a quiet sort but not when it came to lovemaking, for his cries were loud and gutteral and raw; he could barely hear her at all until a hand gripped his arse again and a particularly forceful thrust caused their skins to slap together more loudly than before. At that moment, when skin slapped against skin louder than anything Remus could remember at that moment than hearing before, she laughed.
And the hairs on the back of his neck stood up.
She laughed a loud, barking laugh that he’d heard countless times over the years.
The laugh hit him hard right in the chest and he came hard and fast within her.
“Remus?” Narcissa asked, still laughing somewhat, even while her face was flushed from the throes of passion and her cunt began to clench around his cock.
His throat felt incredibly dry all of a sudden; he had to cough once before he could get the words out, shaking all the while from the force of his orgasm. “What?”
“I’ve a confession.” She lowered her head to his chest and laved a nipple, eliciting a groan from him despite himself.
He could only nod, screwing his eyes shut and turning his face away; he didn’t want to know. He didn’t. All he wanted was to leave now and keep the memory of Narcissa’s flesh on and all around him.
“Look at me, Moony.” Her voice was lower now, hoarse. And oh fuck--
“No,” he whispered, pushing at her shoulder with one hand while shielding his eyes with the other.
Moony.
He couldn’t open his eyes. He couldn’t, not when he felt the form on top of his shift enough so that his cock fell out limp against his stomach. Not when he felt the thighs straddling his changing, gaining musculature and filling out. Not when he felt the arse sitting just above his knees changing shape. Not when he felt the hand tweaking his nipping broaden and callous up. Not when he could feel that divet ono the side of the forefinger from quill writing that he knew had been there since second year run over his chest.
“It’s me, Padfoot.” Suddenly Sirius didn’t sound so sure of himself. “It was Polyjuice. I just wanted– I just wanted you, Moony. And this was the only way I knew how to do it. It seemed like a good idea at the time. But now I– fuck. Can you just look at me?”
And Remus wasn’t sure if he wanted to open his eyes. If this had all been just some incredibly fucked up dream and he was back in his four-poster with Peter snoring on one side and James blathering on in his sleep on the other, Remus quite wanted to remain sleeping so he could find out what happened next.
The feel of something heated and hard suddenly against his thigh indicated that, no, he wasn’t dreaming. After a moment’s hesitation, Remus decided to open his eyes. He needed to see if that glint was there because he was very much in the mood for mischief - or trouble.
And there it was.
The roar in his ears became deafening when she pushed the material of her bra aside, revealing a creamy white healthy handful of a breast, complete with a pert and puckered nipple just begging to be suckled. It took him a moment to realise that he ought to take action; he lunged at her when it occurred to him to taste her. Remus’ mouth latched onto her nipple then, sucking hungrily, and her moan tore right through him.
“Christ, Narcissa,” he gasped, his breath warm against her skin. “You taste so good; I can’t stand it. I can’t.”
Fingers, long and aristocratic and well-manicured, pulled at his hair as she whispered to him in response, “I’m not going anywhere, Remus. I’m all yours for the taking.”
Her voice wreacked havoc on his senses; it was all he could do not to come right then and there. Narcissa Black, inviting him to shag her. It was almost too good to be true. A Black actually wanted him and that very thought was rather dizzying.
The roar and the pounding and the rumbling all over receded quickly and for one blissful, heated moment, he felt utterly at peace. The light pressure of her fingers against his scalp as she moved them through his hair and the feel of her nipple against his tongue sated him. He felt at home for the first time in months.
I’m all yours for the taking.
And then those things - the roaring, the pounding, the rumbling exploded from within, bursting out of him in a carnal growl. Narcissa withdrew her hand from his hair, settling it on his waist, fingers digging into his flesh. Her mouth opened a tiny bit, revealing gleaming white teeth, teeth that gnashed at his mouth when he crushed his lips to hers.
She tasted of chocolate and Firewhisky, which reminded him of Sirius and he briefly wondered if an affinity for both ran in the family before he felt her tongue in his mouth and her hand undoing the buttons and zip of his fly. He’d barely touched the tip of his tongue to hers when a smooth hand was kneading his arse and a palm was squeezing his erection. His eyes nearly bulged out of his head at the initial contact and then it spurned him into action; he thrust against her hand, lipping and nipping at her earlobe while shoving a hand up beneath the hem of her skirt and snaking down into her knickers so that he could run a finger along her moist folds.
Their wanking of one another quickly became a battle of wills - who would come first? The glint in her eyes meant trouble; he’d often seen that look in Sirius’ during some of their adventures to know a promise of mischief in a Black’s eyes when he saw it. He grinned broadly and toothily in return, his strong white teeth grinding when she thumbed his slit. His retaliation was to shove two fingers up inside her, crooking them against the warm, wet walls in search of that sweet spot.
Apparently he had begun to win their little contest, for he felt her begin to clench down on his fingers and, in an instant, her grip on his cock became nearly unbearable. She was squeezing so hard that it took effort not to come all over her hand as she literally led him to the ground with his cock.
“Twisted veela,” he gasped as she straddled him, pushing his frame more firmly against the hard floor, removing his fingers from inside of her so that he could find purchase on her thighs.
“Now Remus,” she said airily, rubbing almost languidly up and down his leg, “I know you’ve top marks in Care of Magical Creatures; I can’t imagine why you’d mistake me for a veela.”
“I’m. Sure. You. Know. Why,” he grunted, thrusting further into her hand.
Her hand stilled and there was that glint in her eye again.
“I do,” she said casually, and not without a healthy dollop of conceit.
And then she promptly spread her legs apart, held his cock steadily, and sank down onto him, taking him fully inside her in one downward stroke.
He moved beneath her, arching his hips up and moving as deep inside her as he could manage, a low growl of appreciation sounding when she ground against him in response. The growl turned into a moan and they began moving together purposefully, her rocking and thrusting pressing him more and more into the stone floor; he was quite sure he’d bear scrapes and scratches as a sign of their encounter afterwards. He was normally a quiet sort but not when it came to lovemaking, for his cries were loud and gutteral and raw; he could barely hear her at all until a hand gripped his arse again and a particularly forceful thrust caused their skins to slap together more loudly than before. At that moment, when skin slapped against skin louder than anything Remus could remember at that moment than hearing before, she laughed.
And the hairs on the back of his neck stood up.
She laughed a loud, barking laugh that he’d heard countless times over the years.
The laugh hit him hard right in the chest and he came hard and fast within her.
“Remus?” Narcissa asked, still laughing somewhat, even while her face was flushed from the throes of passion and her cunt began to clench around his cock.
His throat felt incredibly dry all of a sudden; he had to cough once before he could get the words out, shaking all the while from the force of his orgasm. “What?”
“I’ve a confession.” She lowered her head to his chest and laved a nipple, eliciting a groan from him despite himself.
He could only nod, screwing his eyes shut and turning his face away; he didn’t want to know. He didn’t. All he wanted was to leave now and keep the memory of Narcissa’s flesh on and all around him.
“Look at me, Moony.” Her voice was lower now, hoarse. And oh fuck--
“No,” he whispered, pushing at her shoulder with one hand while shielding his eyes with the other.
Moony.
He couldn’t open his eyes. He couldn’t, not when he felt the form on top of his shift enough so that his cock fell out limp against his stomach. Not when he felt the thighs straddling his changing, gaining musculature and filling out. Not when he felt the arse sitting just above his knees changing shape. Not when he felt the hand tweaking his nipping broaden and callous up. Not when he could feel that divet ono the side of the forefinger from quill writing that he knew had been there since second year run over his chest.
“It’s me, Padfoot.” Suddenly Sirius didn’t sound so sure of himself. “It was Polyjuice. I just wanted– I just wanted you, Moony. And this was the only way I knew how to do it. It seemed like a good idea at the time. But now I– fuck. Can you just look at me?”
And Remus wasn’t sure if he wanted to open his eyes. If this had all been just some incredibly fucked up dream and he was back in his four-poster with Peter snoring on one side and James blathering on in his sleep on the other, Remus quite wanted to remain sleeping so he could find out what happened next.
The feel of something heated and hard suddenly against his thigh indicated that, no, he wasn’t dreaming. After a moment’s hesitation, Remus decided to open his eyes. He needed to see if that glint was there because he was very much in the mood for mischief - or trouble.
And there it was.