Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Outside the Malfoy manor, the moon arose with the stars assembling around it, presenting the glory of the evening as it failed to catch its counterpart once again, with the sun setting early throughout winter. And such an occurrence might be witnessed through windows that had been bewitched to be seen from the inside but not from the outside.

You were currently in your private bathroom, getting ready for the Christmas Party as you washed and dried your wet hair and checked your appearance in the mirror. There were already many attendees at the event, but fortunately, you could not hear the noises they were emitting because, aside from their range, you had also casted a spell that precluded sound vibrations from passing through the vicinity you were in, thus quelling them down, particularly the sounds that had been magically amplified. It allowed you to simmer down before venturing out into the public and confronting the cacophony that would undoubtedly make your head ache. 

Being in a wealthy family, your bathroom was spacious, with dull painted walls and furnishings that matched the rest of the manor, generating a dismal ambience, with your loved ones brightening it. It was home, a haven that you had lived in for years and would take very good care of to pass on to your children in the same way that it was handed down to you from your forefathers. 

You warmed your damp hair with your wand, pointing and waving it while you recited the appropriate spell before setting it on the marble surface of the drawers. You straightened the knots with a comb after picking up the soft towel from your lap to completely clean your hair, and your tresses shimmered splendidly beneath the light of the chandelier as they escaped the cloth's embrace. Thereafter, you returned some of your possessions to their respective drawers while retrieving your wand again, aiming it towards the ceiling to deactivate the light, and then you headed towards the door, ready to depart, opening it to your dimly lit bedroom.

You shut the door behind you without glancing, tucking your wand into the pocket of your robe as you soon turned to one of your windows, where the sole source of light seeping in was little due to the drapes partially covering it. You watched the snowflakes fall from the sky through the gap, a scene you had seen so many times yet never got old, and you could see the glass whitening as it froze, a chill tickling your skin as the bathrobe was the only material shielding your modesty.

When you shifted your gaze away, you saw a silhouette of a man in the corner of your room, and since you couldn't identify him, you didn't approach or attack him until you knew who he was. Instead, you grabbed your wand to ensure that you would be able to defend yourself if he attacked you. You neared the fireplace with vigilance and directed your wand to it with the incantation of the fire spell that burned the woods and illuminated your chamber.

You were transfixed in your spot when you recognised who he was, not bothering to look closer to see all of his features because you could tell by the structure of his physique that he was not just anyone, but Tom Riddle! You inspected his profile, and what a sight he was, more entrancing than the snowflakes falling from behind the walls.

Even though he was reclining, you could see how much taller he was than you and the contours of his face were so beautiful that it seemed to had been sculpted by the finest of all sculptors. He had his head bowed and appeared to be looking at something in his hands, and when you eventually gained the courage to approach him, you saw him holding your book, or rather his book, which he had lent to you to help you with your studies at Hogwarts.

You still remembered what had been written in there, or what he had written in there, because you kept using the book only to marvel at his stylish handwriting, which you had traced and examined, memorising the strokes more than understanding what they had been about. His outstanding explanations and innovations concerning some passages reminded you of how his mind was as appealing as his physical attributes. What was there not to respect and admire in someone who was so flawless that many women, including you, desired him and many men were envious of him?

When he caught you staring at him, his lips curled into a smirk, and he closed the book he was reading, or rather pretending to read because he had only accepted Abraxas' grudging invitation to attend the gathering in the first place to see you. So, when he had not found you amongst the throng, he checked all around for you. It was simple to find where you were with the assistance of magic, and what a perfect time it had been when he did, as you were still in your room, readying yourself. It had fueled his thoughts with the image of your naked wet body.

He had gotten to where you were and knocked on your door to be courteous, but had also weighed between entering unannounced or hanging outside until you answer the door and welcome him inside, and he had chosen the former, waiting patiently (impatiently) and intently watching the bathroom door.

His glare alone could destroy the one thing that separated you from him if he had set his mind to it. Deep down, he had longed to rip the door open, to scrutinise your glowing skin beneath the spurts of water from the shower, to touch every part of you and uncover the sensitive areas that would make you moan loudly for him. A sound that he would ensure only he could hear for the rest of his life (And he had already created a Horcrux, so perhaps he should make you as immortal as he was.) But he had restrained himself, contained his power, and just sat there waiting as he knew you'd fall for his charm either way. 

He knew you were drawn to him, and he was drawn to you, too, but you were too bashful and innocent, despite coming from a pureblood family, to even entertain the possibility, fearful of being rejected. Of course, he would not dare shatter your sweet little heart; it was foolish to reject someone who he wanted for himself and only him, him who have also waited a long time to finally be able to give in to his desires.

Even though he was feigning kindness to win over so many people (and he wanted to eliminate those pesky bugs when he gained more power as Voldemort), he would try to be a gentleman for you in his way and wait for the two of you to grow older. But now that he was in his last year, and you were in your sixth year at Hogwarts, perhaps he could give in to his fantasies and acquire the gift he had been longing for before graduating next year. 

With a glance at the locked bedroom door, his eyes connected with yours, and he gave you his most endearing smile, though whether he smiled or not, he could captivate simply by looking, confident that it would elicit a sweet reaction from you. And, as usual, he got what he anticipated when you sheepishly turned away from him, unable to look him in the eyes after realising you'd been staring at him for too long and he could have noticed.

That was one of the reasons he liked you, because, unlike the other women who incessantly flirt with him in order to garner his interest, which he had to tolerate, you didn’t do anything yet still managed to captivate him unintentionally with your adorable behaviours. How cute, and dare he say sexy, you appeared at the moment, when he caught a glimpse of the exposed flesh of your chest, which rose and fell with every breath you inhaled and exhaled.

Ah... it was time to give a greeting for this particular day, which he normally loathed, but not tonight because you had made or would make it very special for him.

"Merry Christmas, Ms. Malfoy," he said smoothly as he closed the book with his notes scrawled on and between the pages and stood up to set it on the desk next to him where there was a stack of books.

You looked at him again when you heard him move, but you didn't meet his eyes, fiddling with your belt and focusing on his charcoal-coloured snow boots instead, while he looked squarely at you, steadfast, even though he grabbed the top of the chair and brought it back under the desk.

Still smiling, he stuffed his gloved hands into the pockets of his overcoat and sauntered towards you, slowing and leaving some distance between you two. His jet black hair had been groomed without the curls that tend to fall on his brow, and its shade complemented well with his dark eyes, which had wandered from your slender legs to your chest, lingering there longer before concluding sensually on your face. 

"Me-Merry Christmas, T-Tom," you stammered, as you often did when he was around, not being able to think straight or say the words as effortlessly as he did, and then you thought he gave you a fond look, but you quickly denied it as you being merely confused.

You were bewildered by what he was doing here because you didn't expect anybody, much alone Tom Riddle, to pay you a visit in your room, while your brother, his friend and the one who knew him best, was out there with the other attendees, having fun. You didn't know what to say or didn't want to say anything that would make him leave you, so you chose to keep looking at him as he did the same, and you felt your heart racing rapidly with each second that passed, and as you were just about to question him, you paused, taking notice of his gaze.

The valley that greeted you as you followed Tom's gaze made you flush, and you got even more red when you realised you were just wearing a bathrobe that was short and nearly left you naked, whereas he was fully dressed. So, frantically, you concealed your top by tightening the collar of your comfortable clothing, which now felt uncomfortable as half of your chest had been exposed to the tall and handsome visitor, with him standing there looking absolutely stunning and proper while you were improper.

How embarrassing , you thought, as Tom turned his head to the side, mumbling an apology when you ought to have been the one apologising, and you didn't catch him smirking as you whirled in your heels, unwilling to face him in your inappropriate state.

You felt like crying as you prepared to enter your walk-in closet, hastily and nervously saying, "I'm so-sorry Tom! I-I am going to umm dress myself properly first, if you could kindly wait here."

You didn't even demand he leave your room or question him furiously about what he was doing, inviting himself inside. You might lack the confidence of your peers, but you were still a member of the Slytherin house, and he knew you could be shrewd (not so much for now, but potentially in the future), such as when protecting those you care about, and he was one of them, which he appreciated. Who knew, even though it was implausible, perhaps you were just pretending to be innocent right now, knowing deep down that he enjoyed manipulating others and turning them into his own?

He loved it when you could turn your sweetness into sexiness. Except he despised it when other men fawn over you, and his wrath intensified when he couldn't stop them from staring at you with lustful eyes every time you passed by. He wanted to torment them before killing them, perhaps gouging out their eyeballs as well, so they would never be able to look at you the same way he did (Unfortunately, he had to lay low after the Basilisk incident, with Dumbledore annoyingly keeping a close eye on him.) 

He should be the only one who could look at you hungrily and discover every aspect of your body and soul. So, just as you were about to dress up even though you didn't need to because you'd be naked soon enough, he stopped you by striding in front of you, blocking the route to your destination, his arms folded over his chest, and his eyes flashed ruby red, reflecting his heart's desire, which was you.

You trembled as you raised your chin to meet his gaze, knowing that there was something dangerously glinting in his eyes that you had chosen to ignore because he was Tom Riddle, the embodiment of perfection. You stiffened as his hand touched your shoulders, gently moving to your neck, wrapping his fingers around it and pressing, causing you to gulp noticeably. He was eyeing your throat, moistening his lips with his tongue and envisioning you on your knees, performing vile things to please your lord. 

"I'm here because I want you more," he responded sincerely but vaguely, not bothering to use Legilimency because he could read your unspoken query from your face alone.

His voice was as sweet as honey, but there was an underlying sharpness that you would detect if you listened carefully, which you didn't because all you could do was gawk at him. He slid his fingers to your nape and pushed your body towards him, and when your torsos met, he leaned down and kissed you. His lips were soft and sweet, yet his movements were firm and hurried as if he had been waiting for this opportunity to have a taste of you.

Your eyes widened at what was unfolding, which you kept trying to downplay as a dream while praying it wasn’t because you had been picturing yourself kissing him for a long time and had always wished for the stars in the night sky to make your fantasy a reality. You began to believe it was real after it continued for several seconds more and did not dissipate like smoke, which would eventually cruelly disclose to you that it was all an illusion. He moved away for a second, staring at you with half-lidded eyes, his lashes enchanting his eyes even more, then went down quickly to kiss you again, not wanting to waste too much time.

After a few seconds of tasting your lips, he wanted to feel more of you, so he pushed his tongue out and probed at your lips, asking for entrance. You complied by parting your lips slightly, and he wasted no time in slipping his tongue inside and licking every corner of your mouth, tongues intertwining and making you moan softly. He tasted delicious, like strawberries, with a fruity and juicy flavour, and his lips were not pallid, but were coated with red berry cosmetics, giving them a glossy and tinted look.

All the while, you tasted as sweet and cool as a mint, amusing him because his and your personalities didn’t match the flavours of both your mouths. His was strawberry, which was sweet like you, and yours was mint, which was cold like him.

But, if he dived further, he might unearth another side of you, coldness, or he might be the one to develop that out of you, and if you did the same, you might learn whether he ever had tenderness. He wanted you to keep your innocence, but he also wanted to corrupt you to the point where all you could think about was him, and you would miss his presence even if he simply left you alone for a short while, even if he wasn’t that far away from you.

You would be so scared that if he left your sight, he'd abandon you forever, so you'd cling to him like he was your lifeline, always doing what he asked, not wanting your greatest fear to come true. But, darling, he never wanted to leave you and let you find love with someone else, so he would claim you anytime he wanted, and all you could do was let him and fall in love with him over and over again. 

He carefully pulled his tongue away from you, your taste diminishing but lingering faintly on the tip of his tongue, with the intention of ruining your purity. Along the way, he tugged your lower lip with his teeth, not biting to the point of drawing blood, at least not yet, but simply feeling its delicacy. The saliva bound your tongues like the red string of fate, and you watched with interest as Tom licked it clean, swallowing it while staring at you intensely, his Adam's apple convulsing and your knees weakening at the sight.

He had a smug expression after he had completely pulled away from you, watching as you looked at him unfocused, weakened, and exhausted, despite the fact that he had done nothing but touch your mouth. The prospect of how vulnerable you would become once he touched the other parts of your body, especially your intimate area, caused a fire to spread through the veins of his heart, travelling widely like a bushfire. 

"Tom..." you panted his name, desperate for him to touch you again, the embarrassment regarding your nearly naked body forgotten as you waited for him to kiss you again.

Oh, how he adored it when the name he detested fell out of your swollen lips sounding so heavenly, and even more so if you uttered his title instead. By Salazar, it made him very eager to hear how it would sound flowing out from you, knowing that it would be just as marvellous, and you had no clue what you were doing to him.

He desired more than just your mouth; he craved to touch and kiss every inch of your beautiful figure. To examine them and get to know you better than anyone else, including your relatives. He would study you as diligently as he studies to be the top student at Hogwarts every year. Being the only one learning about you, such as knowing so many different forms of magic while being merely a student because he studied in advance due to the school not meeting his demands, would also make him feel stronger.

He leaned in again, and you closed your eyes, pursing your lips as you braced yourself for another kiss on the lips. But, instead, he kissed your chin, and you could hear and feel him chuckling at how prepared you were for the kiss that didn't land where you expected it to. You huffed in disappointment (which he found endearing), dipping your head down to look at him, and you were struck with his exquisite black hair, its softness beckoning you to stroke it, which you did at the same moment as he gripped your shoulders, pushing you forward.

He kissed all over your face except your lips. From the chin to your right cheek. From the right cheek to your forehead. From the forehead to your left cheek. His eyes shut as he proceeded to the top of your nose, his lips moving downwards to the tip, your eyes slightly closed, and you attempted to look at him, but he was so near that he appeared hazy.

You were a little dismayed when he passed over your lips because you were hoping to feel his lips on yours once more, kissing you so passionately that you felt as though he wanted you as desperately as you wanted him. 

You had no idea what he really thought of you. What exactly did he mean when he stated he wanted you more? Did something happen to make you the only option that seems to be tolerable to him, or did nothing happen and he chose to go to you because he has feelings for you?

Your brother warned you about Tom, noticing your infatuation, and told you to stay away from him because he had so many women drawn to him that he could choose from, which would only end up hurting you. You saw such a thing happen when you walked around a corner and saw Tom kissing the most popular and gorgeous lady in your school year, which made your heart ache with jealousy, but you didn't give up your affection.

You either saw or overheard him smooching many other female students, and when you glanced at them in the dining hall to see how they fared after, they had chuffed expressions on their faces, which piqued your curiosity about what Tom did to make them so.

His attention was now solely on you, and even if he didn't feel as strongly about you, you would seize the opportunity to spend time alone with him, and perhaps this way, you would not only learn what he did to others, but you would also figure out how to make him love you instead of just silently admiring him.

You didn’t have to be around him with his friends right now, where the most you could do was watch him opting to interact with them rather than you.

Your extremely protective brother was not around to remain so near to you as if his friends would harm you, and you know they wouldn’t. The very notion was preposterous to you. You loved Abraxas and appreciated his protective nature, but it could be bothersome at times to have him continually stick to you, behaving as if you couldn't stand up for yourself.

Being with Tom when his group of friends, including your brother, were there made you feel as if you were in a tiny packed room with you on the corner and little time to speak with him because he had everyone else's attention. He was so close yet so distant, and you were relieved that was no longer the case, at least for the time being, you regretfully reminded yourself as he kissed your jaw again, sucking lightly, and you let out a contented sigh.

Your legs brushed up against the wooden edge of your bed, and he gently eased you down into the soft mattress, his action contrasting with what he was doing to your skin. His lips latched into your neck roughly, elevating your chin with his forefinger to gain better access, his kisses abrasive, licking and sucking everywhere on your neck, hunting for something you didn't know about.

You concentrated on his savagery, distracting yourself from what he thought or felt about you and fooling yourself that this would go longer than intended. His lips settled on a spot in your neck that made you squeak when your back finally hit the mattress, with your feet still on the floor. 

You could feel him smirking underneath you, his hot breath tickling your skin as he muttered, "Found it," before sucking and licking it repeatedly, your moans becoming increasingly loud with each attack.

But then he paused, chuckling, and you opened your eyes, puzzled, and shocked at the sudden loss of the wet sensation, looking down to find out why. His head was raised from your skin, his dark brown eyes smugly looking at you, and you blushed intensely, remembering how loud you sounded just a few seconds before, which just made him laugh more.

You sounded so lovely as he kissed your neck, and he imagined that your cheeks were flushed and your eyelids were closed, unable to open completely as you basked in pleasure, which appeared huge to you but tiny to him because he knew what else he was going to do to your body and you didn't.

He could feel his cock hardening within his trousers, aching to be free from its confinement when he listened to your noises growing in volume and imagined how louder and redder you would get.

He watched as you tilted your head to the side, too embarrassed to look him in the eyes, unaware that you were displaying more of your neck to him with hickeys dotting the flesh.

He bent down to reattach his lips to your throat, sucking the purpler portion of your skin more frequently than the others.

He noticed your noises becoming quieter and your arm rising to prevent them from escaping, but before you could reach your face, he caught your wrist.

"Don't cover your noises..." he whispered, brushing your neck with his sharp nose, inhaling your rosy fragrance that shoots thorns throughout his body for the sensation of you wrapped around him, enveloping him with your addictive smell. "...I want to hear them."

He kissed your neck again, and you breathed deeply, his firm grip on your wrist loosening, enabling you to lower your arm and lay it on the bed sheet. 

He trailed down, kissing and licking your collarbone, your breath becoming heavier, and you gasped as he sucked into another one of your sensitive spots. Your fingers carded through his now-messy hair, and although he was someone who was usually concerned with looking presentable, he did not seem to care about what you did, simply paying his attention to you and making you feel more valued, his kisses descending.

He grasped your cotton bathrobe's adjustable belt and untied the knots, tossing it to the floor and separating the sides of your garment far enough to reveal your chest.

He sat up straight, his knees resting on either side of your body, his palms flat on his thighs, while he swept his gaze from your closed eyes to your bruised neck, then to your bosom. His eyes blackening and becoming red in colour at the view of your perked nipples, knowing it was not because of the coolness in the air, but because of him.

It made his heart swell with pride to witness a sign of your desire and need for him. What would Abraxas think now that he has still failed to stop him from pursuing his sister despite his best efforts to keep you away from him? Add that you were still in love with him, defying your brother's requests while succumbing to your crush's charisma. 

He would never forget how many times Abraxas attempted to keep the two of you apart. From the suspicious glare, Abraxas constantly cast in Tom's direction while hovering protectively but infuriatingly around his sister, blocking the path between you and him, something your brother pretended not to do and Tom pretended not to notice.

From effortlessly reading your and Abraxas' minds, he learned about the interactions and conversations about him, while the Malfoy siblings had no clue about his incursion until now, and he intended to keep it a secret for the rest of his life.

His friend's (or, privately and accurately, his lackey's) younger sister was now below him, bare, well nearly, as your robe was still dangling on your arms, tempting him to take it off forcibly, even if it meant hurting you or tearing the undoubtedly costly material, to completely behold what he hungered for. He refrained from doing so, as he only thought such out of restlessness, and instead clutched the clothing firmly, using his immense magic to make it disappear from you and unleash it from the air, listening as it landed near the bed.

Your wand was barely inside its resting place, with almost all of its length visible outside as it clung to the welt. 

He quietly raised his hands from his thighs and set them on your shoulders, dragging them downwards, softly and sensuously, to feel your arms while staring at your beautiful red face. Your eyes, in particular, which flickered idly at him, not yet realising how utterly open you were underneath him because you couldn’t tear your attention away from his face, were too knackered to stir, or were too enamoured by his luscious look (which he wasn’t certain whether to be glad about because he was exceptionally attractive, which you loved, or irritated about because that handsome face originated from his muggle father, who luckily was already dead, all thanks to him).

When he got to your knuckles, he ran his fingers down to the gaps between your fingers and collapsed your hands together; your hands were so small, that he was certain he could entirely cover them. He took his right hand and placed it on top of yours, bending his fingers and encircling them on your fist, assessing your measurements, and when he managed to obscure your hand, he got more excited by how small you were in contrast to him. He redirected his focus to your torso as his left hand disentangled from your digits to trace back to your shoulder, preferring to take the act slowly and admire you first as if you were the most breathtaking art he had ever seen in a museum, which you were. 

You eventually managed to glance away from his face and downwards when he touched your collarbone, which mortified you even more because you were now wholly unclothed for him to scrutinise, and then you met his eyes as they swept thirstily from your face to your upper body for a split second.

You hurriedly brought up your arms, relinquishing your grip on his and wrapping over your breasts, brushing against your roused nipples, simultaneously closing your thighs tightly, obscuring your heated pussy, squeezing, not understanding why those movements were delightful as you whimpered.

As his observation of the beautiful sight was disrupted by your antics, Tom arched one of his brows and leaned towards your face, his hot breath fanning your cheek as he asked, "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

You looked at him with wide eyes, and hearing him cuss for the first time made you feel wetter down below, which drove you to squeeze your thighs together once again, sending up pleasure to your brain and releasing another whimper off your throat.

He chuckled at your sound, shaking his head and leaning backwards as he grabbed your forearms, moving your left arm to the side and pulling your right arm towards him, kissing your knuckles while staring at you with half-lidded eyes.

You stared at his gesture with inflamed cheeks, and at his eyes, which gazed at you as if you were the most precious and beautiful person he had ever known.

At the same moment, he kissed the back of your fingers, he parted your legs with his knee, pressing it towards your core and watching you shut your eyes and whimper his name, "Tom..." 

He let out a shaky breath, his lips still pressing against your skin, thawing your frigid fingers as he savoured the stimulating noise and countenance you made due to the pleasure he induced. They reminded him of his own need in the shape of his dick, which became increasingly uncomfortable as it grew restless of waiting to get out of its cramped confines, and hence he patted his erection through his pants, hoping to tone it down and groaning as he partially dropped his eyelids.

When he opened his eyes wide open, they immediately drifted to your breasts, which were waiting and pleading for his caresses, and he obeyed, ignoring his problem as he extended his hand to care for yours by cupping and kneading your right breast. He lowered your hand that he was holding and kissed to the left side, still not letting go but only strengthening his grip as he bent forward and pushed his knee against your wet pussy furthermore, making you quiver and gasp. 

He cupped your right breast, squishing it to feel its softness and spreading his fingers to feel its large shape, then rotating it in a clockwise direction to assess its heaviness, eliciting pleasurable noises from you. The corner of his mouth quirked up, and he darted his tongue out to lick his lips as he did when he first saw your captivating breasts, and then he latched them onto your nipple, sucking it like a leech desperate for blood. Like how he hungrily kissed and sucked your neck, leaving evidence of his presence in the hues of purple and red in your clear glowing skin, branding you as his.

He felt your fingers grasping his right hand firmly as he kept sucking into your nipple, like a newborn needing milk from their mother and drinking it until it required to be replenished, and when he thought about it, it would certainly be great to leave a lasting imprint on you by having you bear his child. 

He detached from your right nipple and then switched to your left, kissing, sucking, and licking as if there was milk streaming out of you, which he would make certain there is soon enough for the Dark Lord's heir. His free hand went for your right breast, almost completely engulfing it with his fingers, before settling for your nip and pinching it with his thumb and index fingers, his palm squeezing your soft organ.

You made a lot of noises and twitched a lot of times as he pampered your breasts, alternating from left to right and vice versa, effectively making you feel wonderful with his mouth and hand. He enjoyed them so much that he wanted to hear them again and again, louder and louder till you strained your voice, so with a last flick of his tongue, he drew away from your breasts, then down to your cleavage, licking from top to bottom while staring at your flushed face. 

You returned his gaze with tears in the corner of your eyes and your mouth hanging open, breathing heavily, and you stretched your right arm to him, not wanting him to go with the feeling being so pleasant, and you could feel his saliva coating your nipples, trickling down gradually. It was hot, and you might have felt dirty if you could think straight, but it didn’t matter because the man who gave you that was Tom, and you would gladly take everything he offered you on this Christmas day, and you would give him anything, even your own body, for his pleasure.

You stopped bringing your arm towards his hair, dropping it even though you were nearly there, as he pushed his hands into yours as if he was signalling you to move backwards. You understood and did as he directed, scooting away, which unfortunately caused him to pull his tongue away from your skin in the process, and he kneeled on the mattress, straightening his spine, watching your movements, or rather your entire figure. You looked away from him, closing your eyes and locking your grip on the sheets, anxious about what was occurring as you slumped against the pillows, helpless beneath his ardent gaze.

Your body was glistening with perspiration, racing down your skin like his eyes, which wandered from your head to your intimate area, or better yet, your thighs, as you shrouded what he expected to see with them again, which frustrated him.

"Didn't my previous actions tell you about my disapproval of you hiding yourself from me? Or do I need to become more verbal, hmm?" he cautioned in a low voice, clicking his tongue as he undid the front buttons of his long coat and yanked the lapels away from attachment, shrugging them off his shoulders and shoving them down his arms.

He took his hands from the insides of his sleeves and dropped the bulky apparel down his hips, the hems reaching to the bed linen, and he pushed it entirely away from his body to feel a lot more comfortable, and it wound up splayed on the edge of the bed. 

He crept towards you, hovering over you like a predator cornering its prey, but he simply pecked your lips, which contrasted with his ravenous gaze, and you longed to taste more of him before he swiftly hooked them into your neck, slowly sliding down as he did previously. But this time he didn't stop on your stomach to move away and make you adjust, thereby delaying his voyage towards the region where you needed him the most; instead, mercifully or horrifically, he kept leaving kisses in his track to your thighs, which you covered your private area with.

He spread them wide open like a traveller breaking the cascading water in a waterfall as they walked past to go into the cave where they would discover heaps of abandoned riches, and now he was about to see his treasure for the first time, which had not been touched by any man but him.

There were so many irksome fools who gawked at you and wanted to feel your body against them, but he wouldn’t let that happen, so now he would be the first to claim you as his, and he would not miss the moment to fuck you until your mind can think like your body, demanding his touches. He would show them the proof of what he did to you tonight to make them go, and if that isn't enough to stop their looks and leave you alone for him to possess, then he would have to torture and murder them instead, unfortunately for them but fortunately for him.

He might have stolen the virginities of other women, but you were the most remarkable because not only was your family a part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, but you were a too oblivious pureblood for your own good, and he enjoyed control, so it would be entertaining and easier to mould you to anything he wanted.

Add to it the fact that you were related to one of his secret organisation's members who would soon take over the world, yet being reminded of your brother infuriated him. Perhaps spoiling Abraxas's sister's chastity, whom the Malfoy family was highly protective of, albeit not very well as she was spread before him for him to ruin, would be the finest punishment for his disobedience and having the temerity to speak back to him and disrespect his bloodline.

Yes, that would do , he mused with a smirk, staring at your pussy with excitement in his eyes at the likelihood of Abraxas being astonished and outraged at what he'd done to his sister, as well as the sight of how pretty wet you were for him. Your wetness was dripping down your thighs, which moistened his still-gloved hands, and he was certain that when he kneed you, you also stained his trouser leg without glancing at it or touching it. 

He didn’t mind that you wetted and dirtied his attire because he could easily clean it whenever he wanted, but he didn’t really want to, and he was even more aroused by you leaving evidence of this activity on him, even if unwittingly, that someone else would see.

He moved his left hand towards your pussy while retaining his other hand on your thigh, and he pressed and circled his thumb on your clitoris, the leather velvety and weighty on your pearl, delivering you with the pleasure your body required. And you were not understanding why being touched there felt so good compared to doing it yourself while washing. Perhaps it was because this was the first time the man you love had come this near to you, and you wouldn’t be able to withstand being apart from him now that he was this close, even though this wasn’t what you had in mind when you wanted to get pretty close to him.

"Tom..." you moaned, not closing your eyes and kept looking at him, at the back of his head, as he leaned against the private part that only you were accustomed to seeing and feeling.

So, when someone else, well, not just someone else, but Tom, whom you adored, touched it and attentively inspected it, you felt incredibly ashamed, negatively wondering what he thought of you now that he saw that part of you.

He continued to rub your nub with his coated finger, leading you to lean further against the headboard and involuntarily grind your bottom half against him closer.

He raised his head and grinned at you, his nose grazing across your folds as he rose, and even though you couldn't see him clearly, you were positive you smeared his skin with how drenched you were down there, which made you flush, always being bashful, and you obviously didn't know that he found it adorable.

He swept the back of his hand up and down your folds gradually but roughly, letting you feel the granularity of his leather glove and the coldness of some small metal, which could be the ring you'd noticed him wearing on his middle finger every day since a few months earlier.

He gave you a playful wink, his mouth slightly opening to reveal a few of his perfectly straight and white teeth, that morphed into an open-mouthed smirk before planting a brief kiss into your mons pubis and delving into your hot and desperate cunt.

He teased your hole by dipping the tip of his tongue into you and immediately pulling out, something he repeated, and then he licked up to your clitoris, which was being handled by his thumb. He absorbed all of the juices that you could give him as he climbed higher, taking his palm from your pussy to kiss your clitoris and chew on it as if it were a very delectable candy, and it is absolutely sweet and salty, much more than the sherbet lemons that Dumbledore enjoys.

(Though he had never tasted them, even if Dumbledore offered them to him, which he always rejected as who knew what the old fool put in them, he was willing to wager that he would appreciate your taste far more than the sweets Dumbledore consumed, which he hoped he would choke to death.)

"I don't think you ah- should do that, Tom!" you cried, appalled at what he was doing, after finally breaking free from the euphoria that was enveloping your body and binding you to the bed like shackles.

You didn't entirely escape, however, as you soon drowned in the pleasure that he was sending you by lapping your sexual organ, and it seemed vile, indecent because you know that a place where you discharge substances from your body was not a place where one should dare kissing and licking. 

He didn't listen to you, and he never listened to anybody because he was the one who everybody must listen to. He hadn’t stopped maintaining eye contact with you since he began eating you out, and even if you eventually closed your eyes, which were flooded with tears, and he could see that there were those making your eyelashes sparkle, he was still staring at your face, to witness how you respond to his every touch.

He bit your bud, your face distorted into one of pain and pleasure, and you gasped his name, grasped the pillows, dug your nails into the cases, and bucked your hips towards him, demanding more and forgetting how you resisted before. 

Rather than completing what he knew you wanted, he steered away and looked down at you amusedly as you opened your eyes, stunned into silence at the disappearance of pleasure, looking back at him with an apparent want and need. He was kneeling between your knees, his left hand resting just above your throbbing core, on your pelvis, his fingers softly caressing your skin, tantalising you with how near he was to reach where you needed him to. Your head was resting on the bed frame, the pillows pushing against the wood as your lower back collapsed against them, sitting half on them and half on the bedding.

You peered at him with tear-filled eyes, spurring him on with a desire to make you weep more with suffering than with satisfaction, for he enjoyed inflicting pain on others while only receiving pleasure from them. Your chest heaved up and down as you took deep breaths, enticing him, and he indulged, bending down, severely biting on each nipple, sliding down to bite the flesh of your breasts, making you scream out in pain and pleasure, and trapping his hand that is stroking you with your pretty legs.

He leaned away, his gaze sliding lower your torso, namely to his entrapped hand, which you rubbed and squeezed with your thighs, evidently seeking pleasure, before reverting his gaze to your eyes, amusement plainly written on his face, his lips twitching as if he wanted to smile. 

Instead, as you continued with your impulsive motions, his mouth tightened into a thin line, and he groaned, "God, you're such a desperate girl, aren't you?" his eyes shutting as he savoured what you were doing to him and unbeknownst to his cock.

He opened them as he sensed you backing away from him, slowly and hesitantly, with how amazing he made you feel, and he followed your movements as you pulled yourself up to the headrest, sitting entirely on the pillows, and dragging your legs towards your torso, closing them, hiding your pussy.

"Oh, don't be embarrassed now that I've seen and touched you there," he said in a playful tone, chuckling as you reddened even more.

He rolled his sleeves up as he closed in on you, pushing one leg with his left hand on your knee, which you had seen and confirmed to have a ring on the middle finger, and shoving the other with his right leg. 

He leaned in close to your face, and you anticipated a kiss, but instead, he situated his head on your plush and reddish breasts, sharply looking directly at you with his striking eyes.

You thought you saw red on them, but were not certain because your attention was drawn elsewhere. To his hand, which was fondling your right breast and unleashing gasps from you, and then to his other hand, where he nipped the glove with his teeth to deliberately tear it away from his skin, and you heard your breath hitch at the sight.

Though not as damp as the glove in his left hand, you could see how soaked the covering was by how close it was to your eyes, as well as his chin, which was also wet from the combination of his saliva and your pussy juices, which he licked as if it tasted so good.

He let the glove fall to your chest as he ultimately wrenched it away from his long pale fingers, causing you to feel its wetness, his other hand still not ceasing its ministration as he promptly inserted the soggy glove into your mouth.

You widened your eyes as you tasted yourself, which had a tangy taste and could possibly be the taste of the glove itself. You should have felt repulsed as you did a few minutes before, but you were not in the appropriate frame of mind because you were clouded with lust for Tom. The other half of your mind, sensing how filthy it was, made you move your mouth and your hand, timidly and was about to remove the item from inside you, but the same man who was muddying your thoughts stopped you, licking his lips with his skilled tongue.

"Don't," he warned, "and if you keep stopping me with what I am generously giving you, I will stop completely and leave you all alone, waiting for something you will have difficulty receiving again."

He wouldn’t actually do that, but he got to enjoy seeing the dread in your eyes, the promise of doing everything he wanted you to do just to keep him by your side, just like what his so-called friends, including your obnoxious brother who had the foolish idea to go against him as a Gryffindor would do, do just to stay on his good side.

"Obey my orders and you will be rewarded," he continued, and as an example of a reward, he brushed his uncovered palm across your slit and sucked your slick off his fingers.

You shivered at his touch and whimpered at the oddly gratifying sight of him tasting your fluids right in front of your face, and at how he boldly spoke that made your cunt throb so much that you wanted to rub your thighs together for friction, but you couldn't because he was in between.

He seemed to notice as he looked ready to laugh but instead smiled broadly, saying "Too impatient" as he swept aside the hair strands from your face and caressed your cheek, his thumb reaching towards your lower lip and tugging on it.

You didn't say anything, couldn't because your mind was too worn to speak, and all you could do was watch as he looked to your lips, then to your eyes, before leaning in to brush his lips against your left ear, where he had earlier tucked in a few threads of your hair, nearly purring, 

"And from now on, you must address me as 'My Lord,' or you will be punished."

The dangerous gleam in his eyes as he pulled away made you squirm away from him, with him remaining amused, and not wanting to experience what he would do to you if you disobeyed, you nodded your head, ignoring the pounding of your heart and letting him know that you understood. Despite your actions, thoughts of his possible punishments raced through your mind. Is he ever going to harm you? You didn’t buy it because he was too nice to be that kind of man, but your dormmates' discussions about pain and pleasure during sex led you to believe otherwise.

Add to that how he bit you and you didn't understand why it still felt good, but that wouldn't count as punishment if it felt good, would it? But, if the first was not the case, would he leave you? That was the worst punishment he would ever impose on you, especially because both of you were now having an intimate moment, performing an act that your parents advise must only be shared between two lovers. Married lovers. 

You got worried all of a sudden as you remembered your parents, who were just a few rooms away in this manor, and what if they found out what the two of you were up to?

But as Tom's gaze warmed up, the skin around his eyes softened, and his lips turned up in a half-smile as he took in your expression, you relaxed, concentrating on his face as well as his touch on your arm. Maybe he already loved you back , you thought as he gazed at you affectionately, but you immediately dismissed it as self-deception because with so many women adoring him, what if he was already interested in someone else? What if your older brother was right?

And when Tom caressed your sides, you felt hope rise inside you once again that what he presently felt for you would blossom into romantic feelings.

Chapter Text

What you didn’t realise was that he perfectly heard your thoughts, with him employing Legilimency as much as he could every time you established eye contact, and your worry about your parents annoyed (it was more like your parents annoyed him) but also amused him. He was thrilled with the prospect of getting caught by your parents, who were rather rude and condescending about him being an orphan, poor, and a half-blood when he had visited your home, that he wanted to slice their faces off their bodies and murder them so it would be known that he was not someone to mess with. He wanted to show them how much power he had over their son and daughter so that they would finally shut their distasteful mouths. Although it had been hilarious to watch the uneasiness in Abraxas and you as you both had intervened to stop them from belittling him.

"There's nothing to worry about, dear," he soothed, even though he didn’t care about being caught fucking by your parents, and he also wanted to cause you pain that might be too much for your vulnerability. It was also a half-lie because he wanted to give you the pleasure that other men couldn’t, so he would be the only man you would let touch you in every conceivable manner. 

You accepted his words right away because he was Tom Riddle, and you were blinded by your love for the man who was using that name to conceal his side as Lord Voldemort, and it was a weakness he was glad he would never have. Though you could claim that what he was doing for you was him expressing his love, it was more like him owning you because you are his, his, and his alone. And when he swiped his finger under your left eye, you would have misinterpreted it as him showing empathy, but he was hoping that your tears would soon fall from your eyes, whether from pain or pleasure. 

He backed away until he was past your feet, then dropped down, his hands on your knees to hold them apart and his lips on each of your thighs, sucking and biting to leave love bites on them as he did on your neck. You moaned every time he sucked, and you gasped every time he bit, but at some point, one of his bites was so hard that you screamed, as it drew blood from your skin, which he licked up with his tongue, tasting its salty and metallic taste before swallowing. 

He licked up to the side of your pussy, his hands trailing behind, wrapping up on your thighs, and he drew away, leaving almost no space between it and his face, after which he blew on your cunt without touching it, making your body shudder. But it was when he gently sucked your clit and quickly flicked his tongue up and down on it that you started shaking uncontrollably, and his left hand came up to clutch your breast, squeezing the soft tissue and pinching your tit, adding to the pleasurable sensation on your pussy. 

He circled your hole with his finger, teasing you, and you locked his head in a strong grip with your thighs when he slowly inserted it inside of you, a new feeling, the first time having anything in there, touching you, but it felt great that you let out a long moan. He could feel your wall tightening around his finger after stretching to fit a small part of him, and he couldn’t help but groan as he considered what if it was his cock that was too huge for your tiny hole instead. He decided to stop working on you to see what you would do, his mouth hanging over your clitoral hood, his finger embedded deep inside of you, immobile, and he looked up, amused, as you grasped his hair with both hands, adorably glaring at him through the tears that had resurfaced.

"Nu-uh, don't look at me like that," he chided, and your eyes went round as you realised what you were doing, nervously thinking you were disrespecting him, so they softened and looked sweetly at him, but he could still see your displeasure. 

"What do you want? Say it," he added, knowing you couldn’t because of his glove inside your mouth, but he enjoyed hearing your garbled words and seeing your brows knitted in frustration. 

You tried to spit the fabric out, but he squeezed your breast so hard that you yelled and stopped, your noise not as audible as the others because he placed the glove inside of you, and he would most likely dig his nails into your flesh if his left hand was not covered. At the same moment, your grip tightened, tugging his hair from his scalp so hard that he groaned, and his face plunged into your pussy, drenching every part of his face, and when he licked his lips compulsively, his tongue also struck your folds, and you moaned. 

He laughed, his body heaving and his soft lips parting, brushing against you with his hot breath escaping from the gap between them and finding your wetness that you trembled and whimpered, and he just became more gleeful, "You're so receptive." 

Your fingers on his hair eased at some point as the pleasure weakened you, then they strengthened again like a snake coiling around its victim when he shifted, but he didn't have to go that far to see your cunt in its entirety, so he didn't have to loosen your grasp. He loved it anyway when your hold tightened around him because it signified that he made you feel so amazing that you didn’t want to let him go and let him stop caressing and loving you. 

He admired his splendid job on your private area, your swelled nub from his mouth, your slick folds from his efforts, secretions adhering to your thighs, to him, and creating a mess on the sheets, and your hole extending to let his digit in. His palm resting around your breast returned to work as he inserted another finger, watching as you sucked it off and went deep inside of you, and you winced at the intrusion, feeling the discomfort without him toying with your clitoris, bringing you pleasure, as he had done before. 

He alternated his attention between your face and cunt to witness how you reacted, how you clamped your teeth together and grimaced at the sting of having two fingers inside of you, and how you greedily hugged his digit with your wet walls, drawing him knuckles deep. 

"Beautiful," he whispered appreciatively, taking his fingers out until just their points were inside of you before pushing roughly in, causing you to cry hysterically, sliding them in and out furiously as you moaned and moaned and screamed something that sounded like his first name. 

He stiffened and looked up at your face, his brows drawn together as he sized you up, "What did you just say?" 

He sank his thumb's nail so deeply into your clitoris that you let out a pain-filled cry, your eyes widening and tears running down your cheeks, but he didn’t care as he merely added a third finger, wanting you to continue sobbing from agony. He didn't shove it inside of you as gently as you'd want, so you begged for him to slow down, your voice stifled, but he didn't listen, even if he understood what you were asking, as he merely glanced aside to refocus on your vagina, putting a fourth finger. 

"Tom, huh?" His nail was no longer piercing your bud, but he was gently pressing on it with the pad of his thumb, rubbing in circles, and it would feel its pleasantness if you weren’t distracted by four of his five fingers in one hand, practically fisting you, terribly stretching your small hymen. "Didn't I tell you not to call me that but ‘My Lord’?"

He flicked your clitoris, gliding down towards your vaginal opening and stroking the skin around it before slipping inside and straining you furthermore, aiming to push you to your limits. You couldn’t stand the searing pain that shot from below to all over your system, so you stooped down to grab his wrist and push it away from you, but he squeezed your breast roughly as a caution and pressed on it to take you back. He narrowed his eyes at you as he carefully brought his thumb out, and when he looked at it, there was crimson staining it, and he scanned his other digits, dragging them out just half-way, and was greeted with the same sight, your blood oozing from your vagina. You kept crying out apologies to him, ending with what he wanted you to address him, "My Lord," not comprehending why he was not stopping when it was obviously excruciating for you, and he could clearly hear your pleas even through the gag that limited your articulation.

Was he punishing you for not properly addressing him? He made you feel so good like you were soaring through the blue sky and lounging on the fluffy clouds, that you had forgotten about his instruction and that disobedience would result in punishment, and maybe that was why the pain you were receiving was as intense as the comfort he gave you. 

You were not certain why he preferred to be referred to as "My Lord" rather than "Tom," a name that was so profoundly engraved in your heart that whenever you read or heard it, you were reminded of your charming and clever fellow student whom you love. Though you were aware that such a form of address was reserved for those in positions of power in society, and he might not be a member of a rich and powerful pureblood family, he had an admirable appearance and personality, as well as insight and magic, that he would undoubtedly become a prominent figure on his own. 

Perhaps he enjoyed being the dominant one, with virtually everyone in school respecting him, even the purebloods given his status, and being acknowledged as "My Lord" (a title for men in authority) would undeniably boost his confidence and encourage him in bed.

You were utterly helpless as he pressed into you, encaging you in your own nest, and you were undressed while he was still dressed, unfettered for him to investigate as if you were a major discovery, and it crossed to you that what if he was testing your capacities by delivering pleasure and pain upon you? And, despite the fact that he was literally under you, he still had the upper hand, and such disparities demonstrate to you that he enjoyed having dominance over you, whilst you, for some reason you didn’t understand, prefer being subservient to him, merely following him about like a puppy. 

Admittedly, you didn’t have any prior sex experience, and what was taking place right now would be your first time, with your partner being none other than Tom Riddle. Therefore you didn’t want to do anything as it might simply wind up humiliating you in front of your crush or worsening the situation. Conversely, if you do not do anything and depend only on him during sex, he might grow tired of doing everything for both of you, which will prompt him to become bored with you knowing very little about the deed. So he might leave you to find somebody who could satisfy him better than you.

You didn’t want to disappoint him, you decided as you clamped your teeth into his glove, trying to prevent the whimpers of pain from spilling out of you as he drove his fingers in and out of your vagina in a mercifully leisurely way this time. You were still in misery, even though his pace wasn’t as brutal as it was before, and it could be because he reinserted his thumb, his fingers curled into a fist and now nestled deep inside of you, spreading you too much, especially with his hand being so large. But his fisting was finished shortly, because when he retreated for the first time after inserting his fist inside, he didn't push back in as you anticipated him to, instead he removed all of his fingers straight away from you. You breathed a sigh of relief as the discomfort of being stretched subsided, and you blinked your tears away to see Tom clearly as he backed away from you, looking up at you for a second before turning to head to where he dropped his coat, reaching into its pocket and bringing out his wand and an empty vial.

You cocked your head to one side, wondering what he was going to do with them, but the ache in your abdomen and the sensation of something watery spilling out of your entrance distracted you. Curious, you glanced down as he moved back towards you, and what you saw next drained the colour from your face because it was blood trickling out of your vagina, adhering to your skin and also the sheets. You considered the possible causes with trepidation: either your menstrual cycle began now, which was inconvenient as it occurred amid your closeness with Tom (and he had seen it, which mortified you), or you bled because your tiny hole was being stretched for the first time, forcibly.

You lifted your eyes to meet Tom's gaze, his palms resting on each of your knees; in his right hand, he held his wand, while in his left, he clutched the vial. You were going to question him, but you remembered the glove within you when you moved your tongue and ended up feeling it instead, and you didn't want to risk taking it out of you, so you dipped your head and pointed your forefinger to your cunt and the blood. You couldn’t look him in the eyes after that because you were embarrassed, but he understood what it was you were trying to ask.

"You are not having your period right now," he assured, stroking your skin with his thumb as he looked in the direction you were staring. "You bleed as your hymen, the thin tissue at the opening of your vagina, broke when I stretched you, and I might have scratched your vaginal walls with my nails as well, for which I apologise." 

He kissed each of your thighs, uncaring about the blood on them, and you, who were attempting to block him with your hands and your cries of protest that resonated through his glove, for he loved blood and desired to taste and smell yours again. 

"I don't mind the blood; it's perfectly normal, and aren't you still in pain?"

You nodded shakily, still disapproving of his actions, but he was right; with the agony you were currently in, it should be far more important right now to get rid of it as soon as possible, and it was not as if you would be able to stop him from doing what he desired. You easily trusted his words, knowing he was exceptionally talented with magic and would never do anything awful to you; you always see how kind he was with everyone, and it showed in how he apologised, tenderly touching your thighs and humming to calm you. 

When you finally looked at him properly, he was already back to his old pose before he had leaned over, gazing and smiling sweetly at you, making your heart beat faster from joy, and what he said afterwards eased you even more. "I will take care of it, so don't worry about it, all right?"

He might or might not purposely make you bleed, but he did consider it a possibility once he realised how small your hymen is, so he stretches you wide open to see the impact while you whine and squirm against his excruciating movements. He did want you to feel pain, and you did not fail him with your responses, weeping and bleeding magnificently from the discomfort of your little opening being cruelly stretched. He would not throw away your blood, especially if it came from a virgin, as it could come in handy for him in the future. He was also merciful after one has pleased him, and because he was with you, he would be helping you with the agony you were experiencing from your vagina and the blood coursing out of it, but the pleasure would not last long as he intended to put you through the pain again, which could be delightful as well. He needed to strike the right balance between pleasure and pain because he didn't want you to run and hide from him. 

He wanted a stress reliever, and he couldn't always be nice all the time because that was exhausting, and when it came to sex, his companions wouldn’t pay close attention to the shifts in his attitude as long as he could provide pleasure. Moreover, he was Tom Riddle. Every woman wanted to be with him, and every man wanted to be him, so they would do everything he wanted simply to appease and imitate him, but they never compared to you.

He glanced down from you as he pressed the bottom of the container to the covers, still holding it as he directed the end of his wand into your soaking cunt, pressing it against you, and when he looked up, he received what he expected, disbelief and another disapproval of his action. He couldn’t seem to decide whether to be annoyed or amused by your responses, but he would settle for amusement because, despite your disagreement, you were still following his command of not discarding the glove (even though you attempted to take it off once) that acted as a splendid gag in you; more splendid in terms of how it made you look rather than how it affected your speech. 

Besides, it was not as if you meant to resist him in the first place because you fancy him after all, and you were inexperienced when it came to sex, and he could expose a little piece of his dark nature that he suppressed from society in the deed, so what he did would be startling coming from a good man. He couldn’t stop himself from teasing your aching hole once again, dragging his wand in a circular fashion, very slowly and very near to where your body craved it to be, despite your mind's protests. Playing with your cunt might distract you from the pain you were experiencing from his roughness earlier, and you did like it as you whimpered, your eyes imploring him to stop and get on with it already.

He fulfilled your wish as he was such a gracious Lord to those who pleased him, but not without smiling cheekily at you and remarking, "You enjoy it after all," which you shied away from, a flush creeping up on your face as you turned to the side. 

You bit your bottom lip to suppress a moan from coming out (the gag will not suffice) as you were embarrassed that you felt pleasure from his wand alone, as well as that he drove it as deep as possible inside of you, his fingertips grazing your wet folds. 

Even when he gently slid the wand inside of you and it didn’t stretch you unbearably much, it was a little painful for you because it had also brushed the damage inflicted on your walls by his aggressiveness before. Though you felt warmth surging throughout your veins as he slowly pulled it until just the tip remained and uttered the incantation to alleviate the pain and mend the minor scratches or cuts that might have caused you to bleed. It gave you such a tremendous pleasure, in contrast to the enormous anguish you were enduring previously, that your body cooled down and your mouth fell agape uncontrollably, a breathy moan fleeing. And another when you tearfully looked at him and then watched his yew wand sinking deep inside of you again, his grip on it still perfect, as if he was in a duel, marvellously firing a spell to his opponent instead of driving it into your cunt.

"Look at me," he commanded, and you did, locking eyes with him as you whimper and moan with every thrust of his wand, in and out, and how his gaze fastened on yours nonchalantly, so foreign from the warmth that you had seen, makes you feel ashamed yet again. 

It reminded you of how transparent you were for him to judge, with you being unclothed and him feeling your nakedness, with touches that made you feel lightheaded and therefore unable to think straight while he could still form coherent thoughts and speak articulately. You felt extremely vulnerable, and perhaps even more open, because it seemed that he could see something in you through your eyes (and they said that the eyes were the window to the soul) that you were unconscious of, and you prayed that he would not discover anything unpleasant about you that would prompt him to leave you. 

It didn't take long for the apt movements he did with his wand to make you feel fire pooling in your lower abdomen, your slippery walls constricting around the wood, and he appeared to notice how your body responded as he looked at you knowingly and amusedly. 

It was a familiar sensation, and you could have experienced it when he initially used his mouth and hand, but you were not certain as you were preoccupied before by the novel sensation of having someone else touch your pussy, as well as the unbearable pain from being stretched. 

You felt the urge to let go of that feeling, and you were getting near to untangling the knot with his wand moving back and forth within you, assisting with your release, when he abruptly, cruelly, slowed down, and it shouldn't have been painful, but it was. You grasped his arms reflexively tight, gently pulling your hips towards him, feeling the length and roughness of his magical instrument, and yearning for relief, which led it to strike somewhere deep within you, and you gasped, his hand lightly brushing over your clit. You closed your eyes and rested on his hand, sluggishly rubbing your slit against it, up and down, but before you could pull back on your own, Tom entirely removed his wand from you. He had moved away from you, concentrating on your crotch and ignoring you when you opened your eyes and gazed at him with desire, but with the smirk upon his face, as he twisted the cap and unsealed the vial, you got the impression he knew what he was doing to you.

He directed his wand towards the blood that remained from your vagina, which he had pushed as much as possible into you to retain it inside, and he performed the relevant nonverbal spell to gather it and deposit it in his open container. He knew were about to come when you tensed around his wand, but he found it entertaining to put you right on the edge and not go over because of how you became adorably frustrated, clutching him and pulling him into you, as you already did. 

He slowly traced the skin on your left thigh with his wand while discreetly performing the cutting spell, not so deep as to be lethal but enough to provide a hole for the blood to flow through, because your vaginal blood wasn’t enough to entirely fill his vial, and he also had a penchant for blood. You grimaced at the cut because he didn't do it painlessly (he didn't want to), and you cried out in pain as he pressed his thumb on it, causing more blood to ooze out, which he then spread, colouring the skin around it crimson. 

"Blood... some people love playing with it during sex, and I enjoy it as well. Such an act with blood displays a deep connection, trust between the two of us, with it being the fundamental essence of our physical body that lets us live, and to see it, of course, emanates danger, which gives me the adrenaline rush," he said as he painted you red using his finger as the paintbrush and your blood as the pigment, making you exceedingly alluring. 

"And its incredibly vivid hue, red, is associated with numerous meanings, including zeal and vigour, that its redness, when seen, awakens diverse emotions in us and gives us the drive to act. Blood, with its significance and the remarkable symbolism of its colour, can be used to establish domination or... submission," he spoke the final word with a brief look at you before pulling his hand away from the wound and securely clutching his wand as he began transferring your blood to his vial, along with what was still inside of you, and it must have stung as you whimpered. 

"I'm doing precisely that. Blood, a life force that should not be discarded as if it isn't valuable at all. There are bound to be good applications for it when it comes to wizardry, so I'm keeping it to study later. You know how much I love broadening my understanding of magic."

He knew you would not accept that his acts against you were driven by malice and that you would instead convince yourself that he must have had benevolent reasons for inflicting pain and causing you to bleed, to which he would respond affirmatively. And the chance that what he was planning was downright villainous was still loitering in the back of your mind, waiting to be summoned to the front again, as you mostly believe the contrary. Therefore, he provided you with an explanation that wasn’t entirely a lie and had omitted details. 

He couldn’t have you being so terrified of him that you ran away from him, and while he knew he could easily find you and take you back if that ever occurred, it wouldn't be the same because there would certainly be resentment lying beneath your fear. He merely had to convince you that he was always right and you were e wrong, which would be harder in the future when he was widely regarded as Lord Voldemort rather than Tom Riddle, supporting an ideology that would make you think twice as you give a damn about muggles and muggle-borns. He had seen you associating with them too often in the past, and your family had found out about it at some point, so you were now minimising or hiding your involvement with them as much as possible. 

He had to be patient with you while converting you to his side because he did not want you to lose your purity altogether. You were a light in the darkness that had engulfed him as if it were his own, and if he was not cautious while navigating through it, the outcome would not be as expected. So, little by little, he would gain more of your love and trust, rather than pressuring you to give them all at once, and he would also reveal to you the ugly truth about muggles, and how they tarnished the wizarding society. 

Although he despised discussing his life, he could use it to earn your complete trust, and besides, he had already chosen you to be the one he would spend the rest of his life with, to be eternal like him, so as a loving husband, he would need to do that. It would proceed slowly but steadily, exactly as when he extracted your blood and poured it into his vial, now full to the brim.

"You love it too, don't you?" 

He was looking at your cunt, as if it was the one he was referring to (it was, but he was also referring to you), while twisting the lid to close the vial and then slipping the filled container into his pocket. 

"When you felt pain with a hint of pleasure and saw yourself bleeding, the colour of it clinging to me artfully," he continued slowly as he pressed his wand near your cut and moved it there, swiping on the blood and picking the red fluid, which must be unpleasant as you grimaced. 

The wood was already stained from wand-fucking you, but it didn't really matter to him as it could be easily cleaned. He brushed the side of his wand from his left cheek to his right cheek, then licked the blood that coated his lips before glancing up at you to find you flustered, undoubtedly caused by his attention dwelling on your slit and your blood that he had decorated on him and tasted. 

"Your mind refuses to acknowledge that it is enjoyable, but your body told me differently." He poked your clitoris with his wand and dragged it lower to your entrance, but he didn't insert it because he only wanted to show you how much your body needed him.

He took it away, patting it on your cheek and smearing red towards the corner of your lips.

"You love it when you have next to no control over me and all you can do is follow my lead and accept the orders I have given you without needlessly questioning each one. And I am aware that you are sexually inexperienced—but do not worry about it, sweetheart, because it will not define your worth. It is immature to validate or invalidate anyone depending on their sexual experience. Being a virgin is considered shameful by some, but I believe it indicates your respect for your body, the vessel of your pure soul, which you will only permit to be touched and seen entirely by the person you know who would love and care for it profoundly. So it appears that I am that person, hmm? Someone you cherished so much that you let me do these inappropriate things to you when you should have waited till you got married..."

Your cheeks had heated with shame, and your eyes darted about anxiously when he addressed your virginity, because you expected him to voice his disappointment, that the other women he was with were more informed about sex and could satisfy his carnal desire better than you. You should have felt at ease when he reacted in the opposite way, and you did, but the moment did not last long, and it was quickly replaced with feelings of fear and shyness as a result of what he said afterwards, suggesting that he knew about your feelings for him, your infatuation on him. 

Did he find out a long time ago? After all, he was highly attentive to his surroundings, examining them with his keen eyes, and since you were usually around him, he must have noticed the odd way you acted with him, and to find out why, he also studied you until he arrived at a conclusion. 

Maybe he only found out now, when you trusted him too much as a friend, allowing him to strip you naked, even though your future husband must be the only one to touch and see you like that. It also worried you because it reminded you of your parents, who were already arranging a marriage for you with a fellow pure-blood as soon as you graduated, and to make matters worse, the man they chose was one of Tom's friends. 

You didn’t want it. You didn’t want to be forced to marry someone you would not be happy and content with as your husband. You wanted to settle down with someone you truly loved, and that was Tom, who might or might not love you back, but your parents would absolutely disagree because of his background, which was unjust. Little did you know, he also hated the idea of you marrying someone besides him, and on top of that, Rosier was the one your parents had chosen to be your spouse, so he naturally went to have a little chat with his friend, ending with the other fleeing in fright and greatly amusing him.

"I want you to answer my question honestly." 

He moved his wand between your lips, motioning for you to separate them, which you did. You looked at him uneasily as he pushed his wand inside, simultaneously sliding his glove further and making you gag. At that sound, a sliver of humour came into his eyes, almost causing him to lose control before swapping his grip on his wand to his left hand and removing it from you, making way for his right hand as he inserted three fingers, offering you a taste of yourself. He relished how his fingers were being sucked into your mouth, but he was losing patience because he couldn't stop picturing them as his girth instead, so he seized his glove within and wrenched it out of your mouth, allowing you to breathe deeply with the space available. 

"Do you love me?" 

Fear gripped your heart at his question because it proved that he knew what kind of feelings you harboured for him, and you didn’t want to hear him reject you, preferring to ignore the truth and pretend that he loved you too. Somehow. Even though you were no longer mouthing his glove, which he had now placed on the bed instead of wearing it again, you were still having complications opening your mouth and forming a word to answer his question. You couldn’t construct a complete sentence, but you knew you couldn’t keep looking away from him and not speaking forever. 

The uncomfortable silence lasted for a minute, and you felt compelled to reply, so you closed your eyes and focused on your breathing, saying only one word in a hushed voice that you knew he could hear due to his proximity, "Yes..." 

Your eyes were boiling with tears, and you fought to keep them from bursting out but failed, so they tumbled down your cheeks and you wiped them away as much as you could with your hand while suppressing a sob. You felt his hand on your cheek, stroking your skin and brushing the tears away with his thumb, and you instinctively leaned into his touch, seeking comfort, but it was not enough to stop you from crying because you were reminded that you may never feel his warmth again. 

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" 

"What are you apologising for? You haven't even waited for my response to your confession yet, and it makes me very sad to see you this way because of me. I want to express how overjoyed I am to receive your answer to my question because I, as well, love you. I accept your love confession, so there's no need to cry or apologise, all right? I suppose I'm the one who should apologise for leading you to assume I didn't share your love." 

He brushed his lips to the top of your head and slipped his wand into his pocket so he could properly wrap his arms around your middle and hug you close. He knew he didn’t feel love because, frankly, he was not capable of it given the circumstances under which he was born and reared in this wretched world, but he did know he wanted you to be his eternally and would not let you move on from him by stating the opposite of what you hoped to hear from him. 

So he just said, "I love you," three words that sounded foreign to him as they rolled off his tongue, and he should have felt horrified on the inside when he spoke that vile declaration considering love was superfluous and a weakness to him, yet he felt strangely elated. That was most likely because when he pulled away and glanced at your face, he found you already gazing at him with your dazzling eyes wide open in astonishment, causing him to desire to drown in them as they were unmistakably full of love and passion to him, and he was someone who highly valued trust and commitment.

"Oh, Tom, I love you!" you proclaimed your love for him over and over again, a slow smile spreading over your mouth as you threw your arms around him, holding him hard and laying your head on his shoulder, revelling in his scent and heat, the heady sensations of being so close to him.

"It's hard to believe that you'd choose someone like me when there are so many others who want you and are better than me. I'm not saying I'm not happy. I am extremely happy. But I'm still worried that this was all a lovely dream that I'll soon cruelly wake up from. It's just too good to be true. And even if this is real, it will not last long, with my parents already planning for me to marry Rosier, as you and everyone else have heard, even though I don't love him romantically... in contrast to my feelings for you," you whispered the final sentence tentatively and bitterly before shaking your head, laughing dryly, and leaning back to watch Tom through your tears of happiness and sadness when you finally learned that he loved you too but was reminded that your parents would not allow him to be with you. 

You saw him frowning at you, which made you look to the side with a regretful and bashful smile, and say, "I'm sorry. Forget what I said. I shouldn't have ruined the moment." 

You swallowed a sob and brushed your knuckles against the tears that had pooled in your lashes, embarrassed, before you felt him gingerly grabbing your wrist and pulling it away from you, causing you to turn your head towards him and see him smiling at you. Your meek heart fluttered. 

"It is fine, and you do not need to be worried about your arranged marriage with Rosier. He also voiced his concerns about it to me, telling me that he does not want to be in an arranged marriage with you because he only considers you to be his dear friend and that you are also like a younger sister to him. He values his platonic relationship with you, and he knows that you do not love him romantically, which he respects. No one wants to be forced to marry someone with whom they have no romantic interest. So I advised that he study more about the magical community because it would provide him with enough strong grounds to effectively persuade his parents to revoke his marriage with you and replace you with someone from another prominent family."

Tom did not mention that he was the one who approached Rosier first and that the latter had no say in the matter and could only choose amongst the options he presented. 

The truth was that Rosier was in love with you, which was evident to Tom and the others, though his supporter would not admit it, and he knew he shouldn't have been so furious because Rosier wasn't aware of his feelings for you at the time. Regardless, he grew displeased with Rosier, and he expressed it in the secret meeting he had with him discussing the arranged marriage with you, where he also revealed his interest in you. So Rosier must back off if he didn’t want to suffer hell. 

"And if he succeeds, your parents will most likely find another man for you to marry, which I will not allow to happen because neither of us wants you to be wedded to someone you don't love and who doesn't love you back. Someone who isn't me. And if they persist in dictating your future, we can run away from them. From everyone who is against us having a relationship. We can be as free as the birds that soar across the sky. Or even more than those animals, for we will be a force that no one can stop."

He cupped your cheek and bent his head, planting a light kiss on your temple, and you felt his hot breath and soft lips as he remained there and uttered his following words that made you feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside.

"Will you marry me once we complete our education at Hogwarts? It doesn't have to happen right away. After all, our relationship is only getting started. And I can wait for you to decide when our marriage will take place, just as I've waited for the perfect moment to finally tell you that I love you, and for me to hear you say the same. I know you will be happy to be my wife just as much as I will be happy to be your husband, but it will be different if I hear you say it in your sweet voice because those words are a promise of our future together, binding our souls to one another till death do us part. I want you to accompany me on my journey through life." 

"Yes..." you replied shakily as you raised your right hand and set it on top of his, the one on your cheek, and you freed your left hand from his grip so you could caress his cheek as he did yours.

Then you lifted your body and angled your head upwards until your lips met his. "I do. I-I do want to be your w-wife and you to be my hu-hu-husband. And I... I think it's better if we ma-marry as soon as possible? Because if we kept waiting... umm... a new problem would enter our lives, which could be the kind of problem that ruins our chances of getting married? And I don't want that to happen." 

You kissed him deep and hard before he could open his mouth, aiming to bury all of the embarrassment you felt from confessing what was on your mind concerning him out loud to the kiss, even though you already knew what he truly felt about you. Not only that, but you stammering too much like a child still learning to talk, as opposed to Tom, who was so graceful with words, had a major influence on what you were now feeling, and you were certain your face was flushing red as he kissed you back. 

The hands that had been cradling your left cheek had tumbled to the bedding, and both of your fingers had wormed their way into the gaps and entwined into one another, the grip being as intense as the kiss you two were sharing. Your other hand, which was tracing his cheekbone and jawline, then moved to the back of his head, where you ran your fingers through his silky black curly hair and experimentally yanked hard on his strands, causing him to groan. 

You split away from the kiss, your lungs demanding oxygen, and you looked at Tom, worried and curious to see his reaction, wanting to know whether what you did was unacceptable or not, but fortunately, you just saw him smirking at you and raising an eyebrow. 

"I shouldn't be surprised that you will be that greedy. I love it. And I am incredibly pleased to hear that you accepted my marriage proposal, even if you stumble over your words, which I do not mind because I find it rather endearing. Your flushed face completes the picture, and you are still as red as you were before. What an undeniably adorable picture you are. I am looking forward to exchanging wedding vows with you. I know this is not what you imagined if a man asked for your hand in marriage because it is far more ideal to be a surprise and done outside in a classy setting with grandiose décor or picturesque scenery for a couple to marvel at, which is not the case with us." Tom looked around the room before settling on you. 

"Well, I believe we did in our own way. We are in your chamber in your family's handsome dark manor in the heart of the forest, whose architectural style emits an air of mystery that, if you dare to tread on it, makes you feel like a character in a mystery novel. And it is bordered by elaborate gardens that have been stylishly decked for tonight's Christmas party, where the hosts and guests are enthusiastically socialising with each other along the halls and in the next room, lending this house some sunshine from its stance behind the shadows."

He twisted his neck towards the left window, and your attention bounced between him and the frosted panes as he did a wordless spell with his fingers pointing at the target that opened the drapes, and the windows completely, revealing the white shrouded world past the confines of your bedroom. 

You shivered as a cool breeze drifted into the room, but his body engulfed you, and then another spell made his fingertips blaze in the hue of fire, pressing into your back, providing you with the heat you needed to combat the cold. 

"I apologise for the cold, darling. But opening the window will grant us a perfect view of the landscape around us, which is lushly covered in a blanket of snow, presenting a winter wonderland for us to glance at from time to time as we make love in these silky sheets. Or... I could just fuck you against the window so that every time you opened your eyes, you would be faced with the scenery outside... but then, that will increase the likelihood of us getting caught, which can make it more exciting," he whispered against your ear, his hands moving down to your rear, and he didn't need to look at your face to know you were blushing.

"As for the proposal ring, I have a ring here with me, which you have probably already noticed, but it is no ordinary ring; very unusual magic has been placed on it, and you can feel or sense its immense power. I wish I could give it to you permanently, but I need it for another reason, so I can only lend it to you until the end of the night. I wish I could give it to you permanently, but I need it for another reason, so I can only lend it to you until the end of the night. And I swear to find another ring for you to keep as a memento, although it may not be necessary because what happens or will happen tonight is our first time together as lovers, making it too special to be forgotten even in the absence of such an object. Nevertheless, this gold and black ring complements your looks so well that I am certain it will look great on you once you put it on." 

He leaned back, removed the ring from his hand, gently grabbed your left hand, and carefully slipped it on your ring finger while watching you blush and look down in disbelief at what he was doing. "There... perfect..."

He ran his thumb across the ring, his mind swimming with thoughts of what the future has in store, such as you and him marrying and you standing by his side as his dark lady while he climbed to greatness and took over the entire world. You were practically thinking the same thing as him, but your vision of the future had more happiness and no devastation, such as becoming a normal husband and wife, free from the arranged (forced) marriages that occurred between magical families, and then purchasing a modest home large enough to build a family. 

You were interrupted in your thoughts when he lifted your chin to make you look him in the eyes, and there was a mischievous glint in them that you neglected to see as you bubbled with glee that reminded him of the sun on a rainy day. "Now let's pick up where we left off." 

He pulled your head to his and kissed you long and hard, making you yelp in surprise, and then he broke away, hurriedly peeling off his black sweater and throwing it on the mattress, showing his undershirt in the same colour before devouring your lips again. You closed your eyes and kissed him back sloppily, attempting to keep up with him as his hands came to your arms, grabbing you and dragging you with him when he moved out of the bed. 

When he took a step off the bed while still kissing you, he walked slowly backwards, and you landed awkwardly into him when you followed him, making him smile into the kiss. You clutched his shoulders and continued to lean on his body for support, not wanting to topple down again, and you took a stride forward as he took a step back. He halted and you pulled away from the kiss, but before you could open your eyes to look at him, he forced you down on your knees on the carpet, eliciting a confused sound from you. You automatically reached onto him to balance yourself, and you blushed as you found your hands on either side of his groyne, which was mercifully concealed by his pants, but after what he did to you earlier, you thought you knew what he wanted you to do, making you uneasy. 

"This time... you will take a more active role, touching me in ways that will give me tremendous pleasure, and since this is your first time, I will guide you on how to deliver a satisfying and rewarding fellatio." What he said confirmed your suspicions about what you were going to do next, and even though this was your first time hearing the term fellatio, the way he used it obviously meant stimulating his... you didn’t want to think about it. It made you anxious. 

Chapter Text

The idea of placing your mouth on someone's private part was off-putting to you, so it was shocking that others were comfortable doing it as if it was scrumptious food and not a body part with a different purpose. Regardless, you were curious about the act, curious to know what a man's cock looked, felt, and tasted like, and how, other than the receiver, it became so gratifying to perform for the giver. This was your chance to find out, and what was even better was that you were going to do it for Tom, whom you truly wanted to please as he did with you, and then a new thought dawned on you: others had undoubtedly already done the same thing to him, which made you jealous. And also worried because what if you underperformed in comparison to them? Your attention was drawn to the ring on your finger and up to Tom as he guided your hands to the buckle of his leather belt, and you were overcome with guilt, realising that you were doubting Tom's love for you even though he had already proven it to you with the exquisite ring. 

You shakily unfastened his belt, unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, and as you were about to drag them down to his feet, he stopped you even before they reached his knees and explained, "They don't have to be completely removed. It is not absolutely necessary for me to be stark naked or half naked as all I want you to do is take care of my cock, a part of me that demands the utmost attention, and you will only be able to access it by relieving it from its restrictions, which, once again, you do not have to completely remove from my body. You only need to lower them slightly to provide sufficient space." 

You reddened and dropped your gaze when he casually said lewd things while taking your hands and setting them on the waistband of his thermal underwear, and you regretted looking down instead of to the side because you then noticed the bulge of his... manhood, heightening the redness in your cheeks. You closed your eyes, fearful, as you cautiously tugged down his underpants, jerking away as you felt something solid and sticky brush across your nose.

You opened your eyes reluctantly, a wobbly breath departing your lungs, and you anxiously nibbled on your bottom lip as you saw his cock, which was the first time you had ever seen one, and it was long and thick, with a white fluid leaking from the top. 

"Touch it. Make use of your hand or your mouth. And I would prefer that you do both," Tom ordered impatiently. 

You did as you were told, wrapping your hand around his shaft and feeling how long and hard it is by gently squeezing your fingers and running your hand slowly down and up, eliciting a deep groan from him, "Good... Just like that..." 

Your hand went to the white substance, which had a sticky texture as you moved it about with your thumb on the head of his dick, spreading it from there and down to his balls, entirely coating his length with stickiness and wetness. You glanced up at Tom to find him with his eyes shut, sighing with pleasure, making you feel elated and more courageous as you brought your lips to his cock, wavering for a bit before finally deciding to put it inside you when you remembered his words earlier. 

Your lips parted over his cock and you gently pushed yourself on him until there was not enough space in your mouth, but with how long he was, there was still an inch of him left, so you took it with your hand to be able to feel all of him. 

"Fuck..." He ran his fingers through your hair as you stay still to get used to the hardness and bitterness of him in your mouth until, after his tenderness, he unexpectedly and violently grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked it down, making you gagged as his cock hit the back of your throat harshly. "You look so much better with my dick inside your mouth than you do with my glove." 

Your eyes watered and you inhaled sharply through your nose as you stared up at him, to find him smirking down at you, and as you focused on his eyes alone, you were astonished to see them unnaturally red when they should be dark brown. You had noticed streaks of red in them earlier and thought they were merely a trick of the light, but now that you were not underneath the canopy of the bed and were nearer the fireplace, you could be certain, and it made you want to ask him right now about them if you didn’t have a not-yet-completed work for him. 

You pulled away slowly from him, leaving only the crown of his cock in your mouth before sucking him all the way in, and you did it repeatedly, at such an agonisingly slow pace for him, that he tightened his grip on your hair and pushed you against him, thrusting his hips speedily and fiercely into your mouth. You flattened your tongue under his dick as he pounded into you, and you tried to relax your throat as much as possible against his unrelenting roughness, so your gag reflex wouldn't be triggered, but you still gagged many times, and the tears in your eyes eventually fell. 

"I'm sorry, love, but this is how I want it done..." He brushed his knuckles down your tear-stained cheeks and down to your chin, where your saliva had trickled down from your lips, once pure but now polluted by him being deep down your throat. "hard... and... fast... make as much mess as you can. That's the way it's supposed to be."

Regardless of your appearance, he knew you didn't mind him being rough on you as you began to bob your head, mirroring his thrusts, and fondling his balls delicately with your hand while gazing up at him doggedly and innocently, wondering if you were doing anything wrong. 

Merlin, you had no clue how much you are driving him insane by worshipping him blithely.

"You're doing so well..." he whispered, petting your head and slowing his thrusts to allow you to take the reins again, and you didn't let that deter you from sucking him off and massaging him exactly the way he preferred you to, unleashing wonderful moans and gasps from his lips.

He kept his gaze fixed on you despite how challenging it was to keep his eyelids from drifting down and his head from dropping back, his entire body weakening and longing so desperately to drown in the blissful sensations you brought him, which his adamant mind refused to listen to. And his self-control didn't let him down because he witnessed how you shut your eyes and squeezed your legs together.

"Touch yourself." 

You paused and opened your eyes, looking up at him, confused and uncertain. He sighed and looked past your head and down to your private area, and when he glanced back up to see your face, you had an embarrassed expression on your face after following his gaze and discovering what he meant, which made him chuckle. 

"I don't think you should be embarrassed now, not when my dick is inside your mouth," he said, amusedly watching you glance away with a scarlet tint in your cheeks as you slowly reached down between your legs. "And don't forget, you're not done with me yet." 

Shyly, you played with your slick folds, sliding your hand and mouth up and down his dick while evading his eyes, and you moaned uncontrollably as you pressed against your nub, sending vibrations throughout his length and evoking a groan from him.

You then hastened your caresses in your pussy, and it didn't take long for the recognizable tightness to resurface in your abdomen as you sucked Tom, seamlessly, that you could hear him gloriously moaning and praising you with his now hoarse voice that made you giddy and wetter, "You're so good on your knees like that... being a really good girl for me... just keep doing that... I'm so close... only a little more... fuck..."

He bucked his hips against your mouth as he twitched and spilt something viscous and hot deep down your throat, making you choke. And you could only take it all because he was not letting you move back with his palm on the back of your head. 

"Do not waste it," he ordered, and you didn't get a full taste because it was too far away from your taste buds, but when he let go of you and you pulled away, you found it had a salty and somewhat sweet flavour that was familiar and could have been the white substance you'd seen previously. 

When your mouth was empty again, you coughed and glanced at his cock to see a tad of the sticky fluid, which you then licked off, and come to think of it, you didn’t know what it was, not for certain at least. You had an assumption that you were not sure was right, so you nervously questioned Tom, "Tom..." 

"Hmm?" 

"I... could you please tell me what the white sticky fluid is?" 

"Oh." He blinked. 

You blushed furiously. "You don't have to"

"Semen." 

It was now you who said, "Oh." That proved you correct. You might not know much about sex, but you did know the essentials, such as how a man's semen, which included sperm, could impregnate a woman when discharged into the vagina, and you were not certain whether the same would happen if it was released in the mouth instead, so you were understandably frightened.

"You know-"

"D-does that mean I'll become... pregnant?"

"—What?" 

"Since... I swallowed your... se-semen... it could get me pregnant?"

"No, darling." He laughed, then frowned and sighed when he noticed you were still in distress, so he crouched down to your level, his eyes softening as he looked at your fearful and confused ones. "Because that is not how it works."

He grabbed your hands and brought you up with him as he stood up and then he gently pushed you in the direction of the bed, making you move backwards until your feet met the end of the bed and you sat down on the mattress. 

He knelt in front of you and held your forearm, then ran his fingers down to your hand, touching the ring that you were wearing. "It is impossible to become pregnant with oral sex because the sperm will simply pass through the digestive tract and never reach the reproductive organs. You can only become pregnant through penile-vaginal intercourse or any contact between the sperm and the vagina. So do not be worried. And it is not as if we will not use contraception at all." 

As tempting as it was to impregnate you and watch you swell with his offspring, he still had some sense in him and understood that now was not the ideal time to do so, and with the love declaration and marriage proposal not long ago, he was assured that you would not go elsewhere (And if you ever wanted to leave him, he would not let you.)

"We can have kids once we marry. I know you will be an excellent mother to our future children." 

He kissed your left hand while staring into your eyes, which were gleaming with happy tears, then raised himself to smash his lips into you, grabbing your shoulders and pushing you down. He moved back to untie his black snow boots as you propped yourself up on your elbows and brought up your legs onto the bed, watching him, to which he met with a teasing smile that made you flush and glance away. When he eventually took off his boots and kicked them aside, he hopped on the bed with his socks on and you turned towards him, backing away as he motioned you forward until you bumped into the headboard, at which point he kissed you again. 

You threw your arms around his neck and kissed him back, flinching and moaning as you felt something brush against your cunt and peered down to see Tom rubbing his cock against you, turning you scarlet. And you turned even rosier as he broke away from the kiss and followed your gaze, catching your eyes with a smirk on his lips as he humped into you and quickened his strokes, causing you to cry helplessly. 

"You sound as beautiful as ever... I can't wait to be inside you right now and hear more of you moaning because of me."

He slid his cockhead to your hole, moving it in a circular motion, lubricating himself with your wetness before going inside, but he had to stop because you frantically grabbed the arm holding it and shouted "Wait!" which made him glare at you, agitated, and you shrink back, muttering an apology.

"What, my dear? I've been holding back for so long, and now I've lost enough patience, so get it over with." 

"Sorry... it's just... I realise it's probably better if we don't get this far. It's not that I don't want it or that I don't love you! It’s just that I remembered that my parents don't want me to have…”

“Sex?”

“Y-yes, before marriage because they want to reserve my body for whomever they want me to marry with. So if they ever find out that I've done it with you... worse, because I've done it with someone other than Rosier, they will undoubtedly hate me and you much more, and possibly, what I'm most frightened of, disown me... I'm very scared... Tom," you explained, closing your eyes as tears welled up.

"Then they shall never learn what happened between us. I know some spells that can help us," Tom replied, staring at your neck or, more precisely, the hickeys he left there, and reaching out with contempt because he would rather not take them from your skin so that everyone may see that he marked you as his, but he would for your sake. 

Moreover, who knew what kind of stories your parents would concoct about him to smear his name because of what he did to you? He could not afford to deal with that right now because he had other things on his plate.

"And we will be done quickly because I fear we took too long here that someone may have noticed our absences at the party by now. So, if you want to finish sooner rather than later, we ought to get started at once. And do not interrupt again unless absolutely necessary."

"A-alright," you mewled as he began rubbing himself against you, revolving around your hole, teasing you, which made you wetter and both of you could sense it, and you looked down and gulped worriedly as he prodded your entrance and felt how huge he was in comparison to you. That you couldn’t help but express your concerns to him, hoping that his answer would help you loosen up, "Will it be unbearably painful and cause me to bleed?" 

"Ah... it will be a little uncomfortable, but it should subside quickly. I do not think you will bleed as I have already stretched you and made you bleed enough, for which I apologise again. As well as for this cut, which I should be able to heal easily," he answered, running his thumb across your right thigh's still-open wound. 

"I will be gentle at first to get you accustomed to it, then expect me to be rough after that. But don't worry, honey, because I promise you that it will feel good and that you will like it that way in the end," he added before eventually slowing down and stopping his dick at your entrance and then gently penetrating you, stretching your small hole, but even if it was not as painful as before, you still took a sharp breath and winced slightly from the intrusion as he cooed at you. 

"It's all right," he repeated a few more times as you closed your teary eyes and concentrated hard on the fullness and warmth that his dick being deep within your vagina brings.

Thankfully, the slight burn receded after several seconds of adapting to him and him stopping waiting for you to be fully ready, but you were still uncomfortable about having him, a dick (and his was long, thick, and hard), inside of your own body (for the first time).

"How do you feel, dear?" Tom asked, rocking into you gently to see how you would react, and you choked out his name, half opening your eyes that were gorgeously glossed with tears. 

He was amused with how divine and responsive you were that he simply wanted to fuck you roughly already. You were his alcohol, with the wetness, warmth, and softness of your walls sheathing his length, addicting, intoxicating, and fogging his brain, almost causing him to lose control of himself and then after devouring them all, he would want to experience the pleasures of you again. And how could he not after months of struggling to dispel the distracting sexual frustrations and other disconcerting sentiments over you by begrudgingly sleeping with other women, which ended up being fruitless because he had been imagining you were the one with him rather than them like a fool?

"I... feel... hot..." you responded after a few seconds of adjusting to him sliding inside of you, delightfully scraping your walls and making you moan, your fingers had gone to his hair and slowly slipped between the locks, softly massaging his scalp as you settled. 

"So am I..." 

Perhaps the garments he was still wearing were to blame for the heat that made him sweat, even from the cold air from outside travelling through the open window. But he wouldn’t take them off because he luxuriated in the power imbalance it created between the two of you. And what he said must have made you realise that he was still wearing clothes until now while you were still naked from the beginning because your eyes widened and timidity appeared in them as you reached out hesitantly to hold on his pants, intending to tug it down.

"No. Don't. Take. It. Off. Me."

He seized your hands and shoved them down on the pillows beside your head, and you squirmed, whining as his dick slid along your walls as well, and then you looked up at him tearfully and fearfully as he scowled at you.

"Remember what I said earlier when you pulled the same stunt, seeking to pull my pants down? It hasn't even been an hour since that happened, so you shouldn't have forgotten that quickly. Though I shouldn't fault you because... it's hard to think straight when you're stuffed... with my cock..." he said assertively, and gradually eased his dick out of you until the tip was all that was left inside, which released a mellow moan from you, while he grunted as the grip of your hole tightened around him, begging him not to go, and he wouldn’t, not yet because neither of your sinful desires has had satiated. 

Your cheeks heated up as a result of what he said, and then even more so when he rammed hard and deep into you while making eye contact with you, driving your mouth wide open with a loud gasp of his name slipping out, and your fingers to grab firmly into his own. You wanted to turn away from his blazing gaze, which was as scorching as his movements inside of you, melting your defences and leaving you defenceless as they reached parts of you that you never knew or didn't want anybody to know about. But just as you were about to look away from his dark eyes to stop their fires from blistering you any longer, you noticed a trace of red in them, which immediately reminded you of the startling sight you had of them earlier.

"Y-your... eyes..." you uttered as unsteadily as your hand stretching up to him to remove the curls that fell to his eyes, wounded by his prolonged powerful but pleasurable efforts in and out of you, grazing the spongy spot inside of you repeatedly, and leaving you breathless from moaning uncontrollably too many times until now. 

"What of them?" Tom raised an eyebrow, groaning and not floundering with his thrusts, only growing harder and quicker (if possible, as he was already merciless) with his hammering on you, which emitted cries from you, interrupting you and making it more difficult for you to continue speaking. 

"Yes?" 

You could hear a scintilla of delight in his voice, causing you to pout slightly in chagrin, and you felt even worse when he began laughing lowly as every time you opened your mouth to speak, moans merely usurped the words that you aimed at giving, rendering you nonsensical. 

"T-they're... r-r-red," you finally uttered once he pitied you, decelerating with a sigh of resignation, but this sloppiness didn't hang around long as he resorted to being ruthless with his lunges as soon as you finished that you choked out of shock. 

What you revealed also surprised him (which he didn't express outwardly and didn't allow overwhelm him by proceeding to wreck you, gratifying both of you) because he had no idea his eyes had become red until now, and luckily, you were the first to notice rather than someone else (but it was still preferable if he was the first). It must be a repercussion of making more than one Horcrux because it was the darkest magic he had lately been practising, and he was fully cognizant that his eyes did not become vermillion after he established his first Horcrux; no one else had seen it that way until now, meaning that it just commenced recently, after the second piece. 

It was an alarming situation because if someone he was not acquainted with noticed that his eyes were blood red, they would certainly share their discovery with their friends, and then such critical information would inevitably circulate to more people than necessary, ultimately reaching the ears of those who pose a threat to him. If it was ever discovered that he had Horcruxes, his life would be in grave danger.

So, even if he was not the first to discover the change in his eyes, he was thankful because it was preferable if the other person who discovered it, aside from himself, was someone he knew well and trusted enough to keep such knowledge a secret from everyone else but to disclose it to him. And it was a wise decision to point it out to him while the two of you were still within the sanctuary of your bedroom, rather than outdoors, where it would be subjected to the scrutiny of others. 

He was not certain whether the new colour of his eyes was permanent or temporary, controllable or uncontrollable, repairable or unrepairable, but, until he determined the best course of action for them, he would have to charm them back to their natural colour, dark brown, and then twist the truth should they revert to red without his knowledge. And this was one of the instances when he should lie, which he was highly skilled and experienced at, and unfortunately for you, you were more ingenuous than the others whom he has succeeded in deceiving. But then again, it also made you fortunate because that trait of yours was what got him smitten with you in the first place, even though many other women were available for him.

You were so innocent and immaculate that he grew aroused every time you were around, and now he was finally defiling you, creating a sumptuous mess out of you as you writhe and bawl out his name with tears cascading down your cheeks, unknowingly adoring him as if he was your god who allowed you to experience heaven on earth. Or, more accurately, he was like a devil, who purported to be an angel to manipulate everyone long before he got his red eyes, and you were unaware that you were in hell, as evidenced by the pain he had given you earlier where you had begged for mercy, only to end up not being mad at him because you had rashly believed his lies. 

"Do my eyes look good in red?" he enquired, now beginning with his plan to obfuscate the truth about it, but he was interested to know what he looked like in that colour, which under other circumstances, he would simply see himself in the mirror rather than approaching someone and hearing it from them.

"Y-yes... so good..." You gazed dizzily beyond the shadows that hung over him and into his crimson eyes, immersing in how they harmonised marvellously with his black hair and attire, conveying grandeur and reminding you of a fallen angel. 

Tom grinned, then became sidetracked by your breasts, his eyes flitting over them as they invitingly bounced up and down along with his thrusts that he simply couldn’t resist toying with them, grasping and kneading them, and tweaking your nipples, causing you to squeak and moan even more. "I'm not certain if you're referring to how red looks in my eyes or how my dick feels inside you, but thank you very much for the compliment, sweetheart," he teased, letting your sheepishness overpower you once more, and you averted your focus away from his smug expression, shutting your eyes to try to alleviate what you were feeling while you sensed him bend down to your bosom, lick your left nipple, and suck on it, his saliva warm against its frigidness.

Then he tugged on it with his teeth as he gently took it out of his mouth with a popping sound, his interest shifting to your right breast and he extended his hand towards it to fondle it, positioning his chin atop it before continuing speaking against your nipple while pinching the fatness of your breast.

"So, about my eyes... the events that have been going on... such as your family's... have convinced me that... mastering the branch of magic that deals with changing one's appearance... will come in... very handy... As a result... the spells under that will make it simpler for me to... appear presentable when I need to go somewhere important, which happens a lot... I resolved to devote more attention to them... I've been experimenting with them since then, including altering my eye colour to something else, such as red, which I must agree looks pretty attractive on me, but I didn't mean... to remain on that... So, technically, my eyes being red is... an unforeseen effect that I was oblivious of... until you divulged it to me... which I am thankful for because some or most people correlate that colour with evil, and if they see my eyes like that... they will automatically judge me poorly,” he spoke nonchalantly, between groans, as if he was merely tutoring you on academics and not engaging in sexual activity with you. 

As he was still pleasuring you while doing so, your mind became foggy and distracted by his touches and the sensuous noises from the two of you being joined that you were unable to absorb all of his words. But you listened as attentive as you could to him, to his sultry voice that was like hypnotic music, and you were able to get the gist of it in the end because you were very curious as to why his eyes were red, and you also didn’t want to irritate him by asking him to repeat himself if you didn't comprehend him. 

He took your nipple into his mouth, sucking on it and swirling his tongue over it for a few seconds while his right hand found their way to your thigh and delicately traced your incision before detaching himself from your chest to clamber north, peppering kisses on the hickeys on your throat. Then he kissed along your jaw until he reached your lips, and he pushed his own as well as his tongue against them aggressively, requesting or demanding you to allow him entry, which you wholeheartedly did. At the same time, he explored the recesses of your mouth, he pressed harshly on your wound, leading it to ooze blood and you to howl in pain, mingling with the noises of ecstasy that his smacking gloriously into you was provoking. 

It was a good thing his mouth swallowed your moans, muffling them, for someone knocked on the door after half a minute, causing Tom to suspend his ministrations on you, pull himself upright, and swivel around to the source of the disturbance. And you whined in exasperation because the familiar but perplexing sensation returned inside of you, only to be ripped away when you were so close to releasing it, leaving you with a throbbing need. 

You groggily opened your eyes, and the pounding on the door progressively became audible to you as you came out of your stupor and then you caught Tom glancing back at you from behind him, the corner of his lips jerking as if to smile or hint that he knew how pathetically desperate you were. He smirked as the person outside started to call your name, which startled and troubled you as you peered beyond him to the door. Then panic spiralled through you, paralysing you when the disruptor shouted again, and you identified the voice as belonging to your elder brother, Abraxas. 

"Are you there? I'm sorry if I'm interrupting you with what you're doing right now, but I came here because I was worried that something terrible had happened to you when I realised you weren’t at the party and that you were taking too long inside your bedroom. I'd like to know whether you're alright," Abraxas said loudly but kindly. 

You looked at Tom and tugged on his arm, alarmed, and he turned to face you, still smirking as if he was up to something. It took a few seconds to figure out what it was because, after flexing his shoulders, he proceeded to rock into you, making you want to moan, which you bit back, not wanting your beloved brother to know that what he disturbed was you having sex with Tom, his best friend. 

"Stop..." you managed to murmur, even if you'd rather he didn't.

"But if I do... it will take us longer to finish, which would make your brother even more troubled... And you should answer back if you do not want to keep him hanging outside until he learns we are together... and doing something... inappropriate... You do not want that to happen, do you? So compose yourself and conjure up an excuse. It is all right to lie every once in a while, you know? As long as it is for valid reasons... and we do have that," he explained, his hands roaming about your body, from your wet and blood-soaked thighs to your breasts, which jiggled as softly as his movements, and to the strands of hair that had stuck to your sweaty and tear-streaked face, brushing them away.

"Hey... are you all right?" Abraxas spoke out once again. 

"Yes!" you shrieked, accidentally, among the cries of euphoria that threatened to unveil themselves to your brother, as a result of Tom unexpectedly pinching your nipples and slamming powerfully into you, causing you to involuntarily glare at him, which he merely laughed at quietly.

"Ah! There you are. What happened to you?" Abraxas asked in a tone rich with love and concern that made your heartbreak, realising that you would have to lie to him as Tom suggested, and so you regretfully sought Tom's assistance with your eyes alone, which he instantly understood. 

He leaned forward and whispered near your left ear, tucking your hair behind it, "Say... that you felt sleepy all of a sudden and decided to take a nap before heading to the party so you could socialise energetically and enthusiastically and avoid upsetting people with your drowsiness, but you ended up resting longer than intended and only woke up now when he arrived. Then you will apologise for causing any concern. Abraxas will undoubtedly welcome your words cordially." 

He then nipped and licked your earlobe before trailing down to the crook of your neck and burying his nose there, mouthing on your delicate skin while still rutting into you and twisting on your nipples, speeding up the accumulation of the earlier sensation. 

"I-I had a nap... got tired... but I... didn't mean... to fall asleep... for so long... and... I just woke up... when you came... 'm sorry for troubling you, b-brother..." you spluttered out, horrified, thinking that your brother might not believe you because you talked inarticulately and suspiciously, but his reaction was the opposite of what you feared, exactly as Tom anticipated, and it made you more guilty that he had profound trust in you, which you were betraying. 

"It's fine. You're someone I deeply care about, so it's natural for me to be concerned... and I still am... Do you perhaps feel feverish, or am I worrying too much and you're merely fatigued? You're struggling to communicate. But I suppose I shouldn't be surprised given that you just woke up. And I apologise for disrupting your much-needed rest. You don't have to force yourself to get out of bed and come to the party, but if you insist, you can go later. You don't have to do it right now. The celebration should last for hours. I will explain your condition to the others, and I am positive that they will understand." 

"I'm not s-sick... Just t-tired... And I'd l-like to go... p-p-please?"

"Alright. Just rest for now. I'll return to wake you up later. But, before I leave, is there anything you want me to fetch for you?" 

"N-no." 

"Well, I'll see you later; I love you!"

"Lo-love you too!" you said briskly, and you felt terrible, realising that you wanted your well-meaning brother to leave immediately, but then you remembered what Tom said, that it was for the best. 

And he was right because you were barely holding it together, and if your brother remained much longer, he'd be able to witness your breaking point and then uncover the truth, which would crush both of your feelings in the end. Your cheeks were reddening as usual, caused by either the warmth radiating from Tom's body that was sheltering you from the cold or by his melodious laughter that you could feel vibrating against your throat. Maybe even both. 

"You're always adorable... You did a good job... So I'm going to reward you by allowing you to come." 

Your soul was showered with sunlight with his praise in the wake of the clouds that towered over you from telling lies to your brother, and while you were puzzled by his closing statement, it didn’t matter much because you were immediately overtaken with the desire to kiss him.

You steered him out from under your neck with your hands on the sides of his head, causing him to look up at you expectantly, after which you smashed your lips into his with passion, the tears you didn't realise had collected suddenly dropping like rain. 

He glided his tongue from the right corner of your lips to the left, and you opened your mouth, yearning to taste him and for him to taste you, but sadly, he retreated, panting from the thrill you're both obtaining from your physical connection. He squared himself and lifted your left leg onto his shoulder, making it easier for him to manoeuvre, pummeling good and hard, reaching a pleasurable point within you that had you wailing as if you were not already loud enough. He caressed your thigh, the tips of his fingers softly brushing the blood, while continuing to stimulate your nipple, assisting you in rapidly approaching your climax as the sensation rushes to your vagina, which he was already pleasuring with his cock. 

You could also feel some pain with his progressions because his rough-textured trousers and hard belt were brushing against your bleeding wound, and his tip was coming into contact with your cervix, sometimes startlingly harshly, and sometimes not, merely tenderly kissing it. But the pleasure overpowered the discomfort and diverted you to the point that you could readily and reflexively put aside the pain and pretend it didn't exist at all, and such extreme sensations clouded your thoughts that you momentarily forgot about what transpired not long ago with your brother.

You felt like you were being loaded up again as the unbearable pleasure continued to surge to your belly, and you needed to unload it, but this time, you were much closer to crossing over the brink, like a balloon about to explode from being overfilled with air. And it worried you so much that you put your hands on his arms and attempted to push him away from you and pull yourself away from him, but he wouldn't budge and continued to hold a solid grasp on your body. 

Then he swung your other leg over his shoulder and pushed your knees towards your chest, bending forward and plunging further into your heat, making you plead for him to stop while he simply groaned, your walls clenched around him like a comforter in freezing weather, but much much nicer. 

"Why should I?" He laid his hands on your hips and ran them down to your waist, stroking your sides before landing on your breasts and gently rubbing and kneading them, curving your back towards him. 

"Be-be-because I-" You were cut off by your own scream as the tension in your lower abdomen that you had fought so hard to trap in suddenly burst forth without your consent, sending electricity through your veins and leaving your muscles humming and vibrating. 

It was as if you were in the middle of the ocean, where great waves of pleasure crashed over you and washed away the stress in your system as you submerged, leaving you drained after swimming to the surface and only able to float in the serenity of the aftereffect. It consumed so much energy that you couldn’t think about anything other than how blissful it made you, and you didn't even realise your hands were pressing against Tom, attempting to remove him from inside you and stopping him from advancing due to how sensitive you were. 

You almost fell asleep right then and there, but Tom came to a halt and you felt something dribbling down from your vaginal opening, which awakened you to your senses, opening your eyes to see him already looking in that direction. You wanted to weep so badly that you were convinced tears were racking up on the corners of your eyelids again, and you longed to dig a hole to hide from the world because you were mortified by seeing the mess you had caused, which unfortunately, Tom witnessed first.

"S-sorry..." you hiccupped.

"You don't have to apologise. What happened to you is normal in sex. It is known as an orgasm, and it is the pinnacle of sexual pleasure in which the tension that has built up inside you escapes, offering you a sense of liberation and tranquility that you can't help but wallow in until you lose consciousness. It's understandable that you behaved in this manner given your limited knowledge. This is the first time you have entrusted such an intimate act to someone. To me. But I'm telling you this because I don't want you to suffer from humiliation. From your false assumption about how I will react. I love the mess. It's beautiful. You are beautiful. I hope you will feel comfortable doing this around me next time. I guarantee you that this will not be the last time I will make you come." 

He was smiling (or maybe smirking) while cradling your cheeks and sweeping away the tears that had been mounting in your eyes, causing you to smile meekly and nervously at him even though you were still quivering and crying, reassured by how lovingly he treated you.

He planted a kiss on your forehead before placing one hand on your right shoulder and the other on your left hip. "Now... would you be a dear and turn around for me?” 

To allow you ample room to fulfil as you were told, he drew himself away, including his dick, which had been nuzzling inside of you, making you whimper at the loss of the delightful sensation of being full and caressed in all places. He also removed your legs from his shoulders, bringing them to his sides, and assisted you as you shifted on the bed, testing your depleted limbs, and finally rolled over slowly and heavily. 

You tilted your head to the left, moaning, as he elevated your hips and grazed his cockhead up and down your slit, capturing your transparent and milky fluids, and pushed it inside of you, deliberately, to feel the way your velvet walls sucked him inch by inch.

And, after filling you to the hilt, he promptly began at a lightning speed that struck you and made you jolt, gasping and grabbing the pillows underneath you as strongly as his hands that were supporting your rear up. His nails bore into your skin not so hard that you bleed and endure another excruciating pain, which was already being eclipsed by pleasure like a blizzard, but their intensity was enough to leave his traces on you as he did with his teeth on your neck. 

He inscribed to his memory, with appreciation and pride, every piece that had formed your fucked up face that was evidence of how inebriated you were on his cock that your voracious pussy continued slurping in that you forget everything else and could only dwell on him and him alone. 

He swept your hair along your neck, sending erotic shivers up and down your spine, and you closed your eyes and inhaled sharply as you felt his lips press softly against yours, barely kissing you, and then he mumbled, "You know, you have a pretty little face... which is making me more wild. You are turning me feral without even realising it, my precious girl. But you can feel it... It is all you can concentrate on... How hard I am inside of you. For you... The proof of how much I want you... How I have craved this for so long... To finally unite with you. To be the first and final person to see you this dumb yet beautiful, and to make you feel like you are lost in paradise every time I fucked you out of your mind." 

At his salacious remarks, you involuntarily spasmed around him, to which he darkly laughed, kissed your cheek, and went near to your ear to continue imparting his next lines with his guttural voice, between moans and groans of gratification that permeated your entire being and sexually invigorated you, "I love it when you do that... even if not on purpose... It still reflects how much your body desires me. How much you desire me while being unaware of it. Or perhaps you are aware but refuse to acknowledge it, eh? Too embarrassed? Cute... I want you to keep doing it, all right? Keep clenching your pussy round me... You want to help me too, right? You want to be such a good girl for me? Hmm?"

He blows lightly into your ear, introducing additional ticklish feelings to its nerve endings, and he nibbled the lobe, sucking it for a few seconds before tracing the outlines of it up to the curved portion and creeping inwards with the tip of his tongue, being mindful not to infiltrate the canal. 

You, on the other hand, wailed in the still childlike tone that he fucking adores, "Yes... I... want to... want to be... good!" following his rhetorical question that was actually unrhetorical as he secretly wanted and expected you to give him your thoughtless or cock drunk reactions. 

He stopped, pulling back his tongue with one last swipe, to grin fervently as you continued blabbering about how good you were feeling, how good he was making you feel, how it was too much yet you couldn't get enough of it, and then more clumsy and appreciative comments that made him more enthused and hooked to you.

He gathered your hair into a ponytail and leaned back to straighten his spine, dragging you along with him until your bare back bumped with his clothed chest, and the abrupt ascension of your spent body, combined with the new angle of his fat cock's movements, left you spluttering and blubbering. He took your chin and directed it towards the open window, allowing you to glimpse the splendour of winter outside, where the hibernating plants and trees were encased in fluffy layers of snow, some of which had plummeted to the window sill and onto the floor. The clean, brilliant, and magnificent night sky above them was sprinkled with a giant luminous sapphire moon and billions of twinkling stars stretching to infinity, splashing light throughout the murky still terrain, as well as into your chamber from where you were hardly stargazing. 

The sight would have granted you solace if it hadn't been for Tom's frenzied thrusts up against your buttocks, producing obscene slapping and squelching sounds and deriving high wanton moans from you, in contrast to his regulated and subdued ones, which made you duck and hide your face in embarrassment. 

"Don't you think you're too late for that?" He batted your hands away and softly planted his mouth on your shoulder blade, then proceeded to speak while slowly kissing his way towards your nape, his warm breath tickling your fragile skin, causing you to inadvertently recoil, but he anchored you back in place, clutching your hands and stroking his ring, the only item clothing you. 

"I have been listening to your nice tight pussy's cries of hunger and delight since we began, but you did not even notice until now as you are having such a great time getting split open by my big fucking cock, eh? Looks like you've got yourself into a competition with your own cunt to determine who can create the greatest noises. Ha! I felt you close in on me. You enjoy it when I talk in that fashion, my silly yet naughty little girl. Don't try to refute it. Ah... That reminds me, I just instructed you to keep squeezing me, yes? But you've already forgotten. Tsk." 

You sniffled at his disappointment, wanting to cry again as if you hadn't already, and becoming even more disheartened when he chuckled, clueless that he was finding sadistic delight in seeing you like this, naively bawling your heart out for such trivial matters all because you cared too much about him. You squeezed him as he wished, about to say sorry until you squeal in surprise because his right hand grabbed your breast and rolled your nipple while his left, in a leathery glove, rubbed furiously on your clitoris, stoking the familiar flames in your tummy and forcing you to clamp around his dick yet again. 

"That's more like it... Mmm...." He licked his lips before planting mild wet kisses on your nape, and in between, he slowly opened his mouth to stroke you with his tongue and nibble, not staying in one spot but wandering vertically and horizontally or anywhere he could mark on the back of your neck, sending you goosebumps. 

It didn't take too long for your body to be infused with immeasurable sexual satisfaction on the verge of blowing up as a result of having multiple of your erogenous zones repeatedly assaulted, causing you to feel lightheaded, your vision to distort, and your respiration to become erratic. You were boiling up and running out of air as you chased after respite, climbing up and up a slope that meets the cosmos until you eventually reached the pinnacle where, like a volcano, you uncontrollably erupted and spurted lava everywhere with a thunderous roar that the outsiders were thankfully not close enough to witness. It felt as if your soul had left your body and you were floating from afar, observing it freeze and thaw at the same time, sliding down to the bottom, to the cosiness of your bed, and Tom let you, but he kept your hips in the air and surfed through your orgasmic bliss. 

You were feeling hypersensitive all over, his generally desirable touches becoming off-putting that you implored him to stop and attempted to crawl away from him, desperately requiring some time to process the staggering number of stimuli that your sensory receptors registered and sent to your haywire brain.

"C-can't take it!" Even if you inwardly wish that this were not the case because you wanted the passionate moment to last longer, you must concede that you were physically incapable of bearing with his persistence in sex, right after the jolt of energy that passed through your body and numbed it. 

For that, it was idiotic, needless, and impossible for you to try to evade his not-so-gentle handling of your frail body, given that he was considerably stronger than you, effectively caging you by grabbing on your thighs and forcing you into him to match his frantic thrusts, which were rattling you. Also, unlike yours, his thoughts were still in order, and you should know that he still had resolve in him even when it came to sex with how strongly committed he was in satiating his venereal wants, which were drawing to a close, more than your own comfort.

"You will take it like the good girl you are," he snarled with a swat on your ass, reaching down to your vulva and brushing his fingers across it, making you shudder, and then he rested them on your sensitive clitoris, moving it in circles and exerting more pressure little by little, without forgetting to give attention to your clitoral hood, stroking and tugging it. 

The overstimulation caused you to orgasm fast, and your legs trembled so much that you would have fallen flat on the bed if Tom hadn't been there to support you. Your muscles contracted and pulsated repeatedly around his thickness, a series of alluring moans gushing out from him, echoing dreamily inside your brain on the threshold of oblivion. It was as if you were perched precariously on the precipice of a cliff, only a few more pushes away from falling, and then all of a sudden, you felt yourself taking off into the wonders of the universe. 

Tom decelerated as the warm compression of your pussy around him and your cream drenching him more than enough when you climaxed gave him a lot of pleasure and contributed to the force that had been working up inside for a long time and was now progressing throughout his body at a breakneck pace. It started intensely, from around his head and down the shaft of his dick, extending up to his stomach and groyne area, where a black hole formed and swallowed everything into nothingness, stalling, then a light popped up as he ejaculated, inundating your femaleness with his semen at intervals. He massaged your belly and imagined his child growing in your womb in the future.

Dragging himself out, he triumphantly observed how his seed seeped out of you, then pushed back in, observing how it formed a ring around his cock. It would certainly fertilise you sooner than planned, he thought, somewhat morose as it went to waste and was unable to stick inside you permanently, dragging his fingers down to your stretched hole and spreading his excess semen over the rest of your folds.

The sight below reminded him of his earlier assurance to you that contraception would be used, and you would not become pregnant, at least not yet, and he was not exactly lying about that, because he had a contraceptive potion in the dormitory, which he planned to retrieve and deliver to you tomorrow. He also had a fun plan to fuck you hard in as many positions as possible or against every piece of furniture in your room, despite the high likelihood of being discovered by Abraxas when he returned, because witnessing you turn deep red with shame and your brother with wrath would add to his enjoyment. The sex that occurred tonight would not be the last time, because he and the relationship that had flourished between you two would ensure its resumption on the more promising days ahead, including tomorrow's rendezvous and New Year's Eve, which coincided with his birthday, where you would be the gift that he would be psyched to unwrap and use as he pleased.