A change is evident in one so belligerent.

[flint_ferocia]

Date: Thursday, Sept. 7th
Time: 5pm-ish
Place: The Leaky Cauldron
Characters Involved: Lavender Brown, Marcus Flint
Rating: Ok so R, for implied actions and obvious language.

Comments

[flint_ferocia]

“Maybe,” Marcus mumbled as his lips pressed against skin, and his teeth nipped at Lavender’s taunt neckline. With eager fingers he traveled the length of her body; every inch was pleading to be traveled over, touched, over-powered. When she guided some fingers over the inked skin, they immediately ventured farther, moved enticingly over sensitive regions.

With her fingers in his hair, Marcus looked up into her eyes, grinning like a wolf in sheep’s clothing. “I can nap later.” He growled lowly, before taking her mouth with his, all the while pressing her closer to his body with hands pushing rough against her back. It was a kiss as aggressive and as hungry as his hands, as his need to conquer her was. But as Lavender shifted above him, the position could suggest she was conquering him- though he had no qualms about seeing her naked above him, when it got down to it.

The clothes annoyed him more now, as they rubbed lips and his tongue slithered forth, and Marcus’ hands agreed as they rounded over hems to lift a shirt for removal. He wouldn’t need a strip tease, and later he would definitely slumber to rest aching bones. But for right now, all he wanted, all he could think about was for their bodies to meet, and to satisfy the craving to take her once and for all.

Nothing really mattered. Not the way she spoke- or her attitude and inquires, only what she had to offer. She wanted to satisfy him, to please, to serve him as she should, and that drove him into an animalistic frenzy to prove that she was his. His as a possessive term, like a valued vase, or a collectors statue. He wanted nothing more but to prove the fact that she was put on this Earth to do right by him, and penetration would seal the deal. To Marcus, it could almost be a way to show her gratitude, because he was allowing her this pleasure. Not many women got encore performances. But not many, if any at all, were virgins before his corruptive touch. That had made her an extra special collectors piece.

[mslavenderbrown]

Her hopes for something slow had been dashed almost as soon as they began kissing. He moved her and touched her quickly, and before she had known it she was naked and he was above her.

When he finished, he collapsed on her, obviously spent, she continued to whisper his name and run her fingers through his hair. This was the most vulnerable that she ever saw Marcus. She felt herself smiling like a silly girl. She'd experienced more pleasure than before -- this time had been slower, because he was tired, and she had finally peaked in sensation for the first time.

She knew that it was only inevitable that he get up and leave, but she wanted to keep him here as long as possible. As the haze of sex began to leave her mind, she tried to think of what it was that she could do to keep him here longer. Lavender continued to gently run her hands along his hair and back, letting out little sighs of happiness - little masks of her worry. She had an urge to slide farther under him, to try kissing him, and teasing him, but held it back.

Lavender wondered how different things would be. She'd always wondered that, each time she had been with Marcus. For their first time there had been nothing, until fate crossed their paths again. The second time he had hardly stayed longer than the first. On the third time, however, he had lazed about. Lavender had thought that was something like a promise to come back soon, but it had taken him a week, and he claimed it was accidental he had seen her.

How long would it be before she saw him again?

Her tongue was burning to ask him, but she couldn't not yet. She didn't want him to groan at her words and roll over to pull his trousers back on. Lavender wanted him to stay, with his head on his her chest, her arms entwined in his hair.

[flint_ferocia]

There were no words for how fantastic it was, to have a girl like Lavender succumb. Almost for the same reason he liked a girl who fought him, with only a shift in differences. For instance, Lavender was fresh- someone not dirty and worn as paid whores were. She was clean, not a feeling of sloppy seconds. It was a power trip to know he controlled one so young and without special tricks. Had he known the inexperienced girls would be like this, he would have changed his steps altogether. Lavender didn't try to steady his hands, move away- even if whores did that too, but she also did not try to do things her way, with promises of a better result. Some wenches thought they knew better, as if he was the inexperienced one. And god only knew how delicious Lavender's womanhood was, fitting like a well-made glove- and with the obvious reason that he had shaped her.

But he had felt the hard days of labor in his bones, and couldn't rush at release as he always did- always in it for the rush. When he finally got off, he realized just how awful he felt, as if his orgasm broke the damn on his pain threshold. He collapsed, sucked in breath, and just relished in not moving. Though after a minute he had to adjust and lay beside his new toy, instead of on top of her. Yet he kept his head near hers, because the fingers that ran through his hair was undoubtedly relaxing.

"Uh- I could sleep forever," He mumbled with a stretch, while a hand reached down and cared for a decent position of his jewels. "Think I could get one of those fags now?" He bothered to ask, as he arched his head to welcome an arm beneath it.

He wasn't going to be able to move for a while, so he figured to make the best of the time. Oh how he wished for a bit of smoke instead of a measly cigarette. But he couldn't find the strength to even mentally protest his selection. Lavender had used up his last ounce of energy. But it hadn't been a waste, not a chance.

[mslavenderbrown]

When he rolled off of her, Lavender easily moved so that her body was curved towards him, her hands going through his hair as she watched him. He looked so much more tame then ever before. This time it wasn’t just the sex that had drained him, but the long hard day that he had had. When he stretched his legs touched her own a little, and she scooted herself a little bit closer. With him this quiet, this relaxed looking, she wanted to be as close to him as possible. It felt like everything in the world was going the way she wanted.

“Marcus,” she said, a giggle escaping her. “You are wonderful… That was the best yet.”

Her thin fingers curled around his hair, and then she ran her nails gently along his head. Her face broke out into a pleased smile as he said he could sleep forever, and she took in a deep breath, and then giggled, biting her lip. She didn’t’ feel afraid to giggle anymore around him; at least not now. She dipped her head closer and pressed her lips against his forehead. “You can stay here, if you’d like,” she said. “I wouldn’t mind.”

When he asked for the cigarette she turned herself quickly to the nightstand. If she did what he asked - maybe he’d stay. She fumbled for the pack and took two out. She used a little match and lit them both, offering one to him and taking the other for herself. She stretched herself up a bit farther on the pillows, so that she could look down at him, and continued running one hand through his hair. Hopefully it would have a lulling effect on him, and keep him there.

“I didn’t know what brand you like,” she said, forgetting to try to be suave and sophisticated and act as though she smoked all the time. She could make herself look charming as she smoked after practicing in French muggle bars for so long, but it wasn’t anything she did for her own personal pleasure. “These alright?”

She thought about asking him if he wanted anymore ale, but decided that it would be a bit too much. She didn’t want him to think of her as a maid. She just wanted him to see how willing she was to serve him, trusting that he would very soon want to serve her, too.

[flint_ferocia]

It had to be magic, the way she comforted his ill state with the glide of her fingers in his hair. Each stroke was cushioning his weighed down, tense state into complete relaxation. No paid whore would ever consider to comfort him after he had a go. It didn't even bother him that she moved closer, because he just didn't care. He could fall asleep at any moment, with only responsibility keeping him in check.

And of course her compliment was adding to his comfort, feeding his famished ego- renewing it. He grinned with pride and dared to open his eyes to place him back into the here and now. She enticed him further with an offer to stay, but he knew he couldn't. Unless he had a body double, Marcus had to get himself home and report his duties finished to the man that waited there.

"Some other time," He remarked, and moved along enough to plant his head on a pillow. The awful feeling of having to face his Father was making it hard to relax.

He took the cigarette with a shrug, eyeing it first before partaking. "It suits the purpose." He allowed himself to say, after exhaling the smoke from his lungs.

Then he took it upon himself to look at Lavender, to see her form after he ravished her body with his own. The sight of unruly hair and glistened areas of sweat made him smirk.

"Sex... looks go on you." He said nonchalantly, though his twisted smile remained on his face. What he really meant was that his touch, his act upon her looked good- the results of his power were very attractive.