Pandora's Box Chapter Nine
this was supposed to be done yesterday as a birthday giftie for Gin. i'm a little late. i'm sorry. forgive me? *flutters eyelashes*
Title: Pandora's Box
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: adult, mature. no one under 18. not even with a parent. no smut for you kiddies.
Warnings: sex, language, possible violence at some point. whatever i really feel like using, honestly
Disclaimer: none of the characters portrayed in this work of fiction belong to me. Pandora belongs to the lovely and talented Ginevra. the rest of the recognizable characters belong to J. K. Rowling. they're not much, much as i'd like them to be. i make no money from this. the only payment coming my way is the joyous comments that are left to my journal. please don't hurt me.
Pandora's Box - The Index
Chapter Nine: Spinner's End
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Spinner's End was a small, cramped, dingy, dark little home on the end of a small, cramped, dingy, dark little street. They'd Apparated directly from the reception to the front stoop of the home. A look up the lane behind her showed Pandora that the entire place was dark, as if the place had been abandoned. It had that feeling of loneliness that old, unlived in homes tended to have. The school where Pandora had taught before coming to England had once had that feeling to it. Before she'd lovingly cleaned it and then opened it to the children of her village. Something about the aura of general disuse that seemed to cloak the place made Dora feel sad.
She heard Severus whisper in the dark, his voice soft and sibilant as he spoke the words that would deactivate the wards and spells laid upon his home. There was a fine tremor in the air around the place, a gentle hum that teased at the back of her brain. Most people would have been unnerved by it, would have turned and left before now. She suspected that he'd fine tuned them so that she would be able to get in and out without being fried. There was no mistaking the amount of power surrounding her.
With the last hiss of sound, the spells seemed to fold back upon themselves, as if opening a door for them to pass through. Severus took her hand in his and tugged her lightly through the gap in the magic and the building's wooden door before reaching past her to touch his fingers against nothing. She felt the spells snap back into place behind them as if she'd been hit by a hand. He escorted her deeper into the shadows, the door swinging closed on silent hinges to cut off the weak light leaking in from the street.
Soft, golden illumination filled the room, chasing the shadows back into the farthest corners of the room. Her eyes swept the chamber and its contents slowly. There were books upon shelves on nearly every wall, each tome lovingly worn and aged. The floor was covered with a thin, tread-bare rug. The only furnishings were an arm chair, the material worn away in the seat and along the arms. A small sofa had been crammed in, along with one end table. It, too, was stacked high with a teetering tower of books. The light came from the hearth and several candles. There were two doors leading off the small sitting area.
Dora turned her attention over to Severus after studying everything. He looked tense, as if he expected her to belittle him for his home. She offered him a shy smile while one hand motioned toward the room around her. "Its very cosy," she told him. "I can easily picture you sitting in the arm chair, a cup of tea cooling at your elbow as you read from one of the many books you have here."
His lips quirked in the beginnings of a faint smile. "An accurate assessment, my dear," he agreed. "You can no doubt see that the chair is my favorite place to relax."
She could tell that it was. In fact, she suspected that his home was a place where he relaxed. Some of the stiff, hard exterior had peeled away from him the moment the door had closed behind them, revealing to her the softer man who lay hidden under the surface. For just a moment, Dora entertained an image of him settled in that worn arm chair, a tiny bundle of squirming humanity cradled against his chest. The image was so intense and unanticipated that she felt a pang of longing run through her.
Quickly, before he could sense that anything was off, she pushed the image away and cleared her mind. Or tried. Even though she knew that theirs was only a marriage of convenience, she couldn't stop herself from thinking about what it might be like if it wasn't. Even though their contact had been limited to mostly impersonal touches, the times she'd danced with him and when they'd kissed had told her that there was something more to him than the stern and stuffy man he presented to the world. She wanted to find out what that something was.
Perhaps she'd had too much wine at the reception. Her thoughts before the wedding had been clear, with nary a notion of sex creeping through her brain. She'd known and accepted that they were marrying for less than traditional reasons. But now, with the "I dos" spoken, her brain was re-arranging her priorities. And watching her husband strip naked was on the top of the list.
Yes. She'd definitely had too much to drink.
"I regret that there is very little to show you. The kitchen is through there," he told her as he pointed toward one of the doors. Then his hand gestured to the other door. "That door opens onto the stairs that lead up to the second floor and the bedrooms."
"Its a lovely home, Severus. I do hope I won't be too intrusive." They hadn't really talked about sleeping arrangements. Or, for that matter, where she would live. There was the flat she'd stayed in during her short engagement, but it seemed wrong to keep living in it when she was married and her spouse had his own home. She'd thought, even if she hadn't really acknowledged it, that she would live with Severus. He was her husband. But what if he didn't want her to live with him? What was she to do then? How would that look to the rest of the magical community?
"As I won't be here much of the time, I highly doubt that will happen. I do not mind if you make yourself home but I do request that you do not alter any part of my home without first discussing it with me." He motioned toward the door that he'd indicated opened on the stairs. "Shall we finish the tour?"
"Yes. That would be lovely."
He held a hand out to her. Dora reached out to place one of her hands in his. His hold was firm and strong without being overpowering. Severus tugged her closer, then escorted her toward the closed panel.
It swung open before they reached it to reveal a narrow stairwell that hugged the wall. A single candle in a glass lantern provided the only light. Severus allowed her to climb the steps before him. She balanced herself with a hand on the wall, listening to her shoes making noise as their heels hit the uncarpeted steps. His footsteps were conspicuously absent and she thought she could feel his eyes on her backside. A small finger of heat worked its way deep into her belly.
They reached the top of the stairs to find themselves standing at the end of a short hallway. There were three doors, each of them standing open. Even from where she stood, she could see that one room was dedicated entirely to books. They lined the walls on their shelves, crowding the room. A small desk was shoved into one corner and there was a second arm chair settled before one of the shelves. The second door showed her Severus' bedroom, the end of the bed visible through the opened portal. The last door opened up to the loo.
"As I said earlier," he said. He stood directly behind her, his breath brushing the shell of her ear as his words slipped past it. "It is small and somewhat cramped. If it is not to your liking, please inform me. I realize that you are used to something far grander than this."
"There is nothing wrong with your home, Severus," Dora assured him, turning to stare up into his face. Something sparkled in his eyes, something that caught and held her. She felt as if she were frozen, falling into a deep, inky well that was hot and cold all at the same time. Her heart was suddenly pounding in her chest, so hard that it felt as if it would burst through her ribs. She opened her mouth in an attempt to break the spell, but nothing came out.
"I realize suddenly just how shabby my home must seem to you. It appears shabby when compared with your fresh, youthful beauty." His words made her blush. Yes. She'd had too much to drink. Perhaps he had, too. No one had ever spoken to her in such a way and she suspected that he didn't use such words with just anyone.
It felt as if electricity crackled between them. There was a sense of hunger to him that she'd never associated with her husband before. Had something changed with the exchange of their vows? Or was it something that had always been there, simmering beneath the surface? Waiting for the right moment to reveal itself? Her fingers itched to reach out and touch him, to run along the fine linen material of his wedding clothes. She wanted to feel his skin against her own.
"Severus, I..." It was all she managed to get out before his hands were cupped around her face. The two of them came together on the landing, his mouth hungry and eager upon her own. She slid her arms up around his neck, pressed her body along the length of his. She shuddered to feel the hardness of his erection prodding her belly. The cut of his clothes hid so much from view.
The fruity taste of the wine they'd had at the reception clung to his tongue and lips, teasing her senses with promises of exotic things. A vague recollection of that sensual dream rose to the surface of her mind, then quickly sank back into the depths. His hands had moved from her cheeks to spear into her hair, his fingers shaped to the curve of her skull as he directed the way she tilted her head. His mouth was demanding and masterful as it plundered hers.
Dora had kissed men before, but it had never been anything like this. The other kisses paled in comparison to the one that he was presently pressing upon her. Her body tingled with anticipation. She had a general knowledge of what was to follow. And that was it. Simply a general knowledge that she'd learned from books and her mother. While her mind was far from virginal, her body had yet to experience the joys of physical pleasure.
She had a feeling that her status as a virgin would change tonight.
He pulled away from her only when he needed to draw air into his lungs. She gasped for breath along with him, her fingers curled tightly into the collar of his coat to help keep her standing. Her knees shook with equal parts anticipation and fear. When he looked down at her, his eyes sparkled with emotion. "Shall we retire for the evening, my dear?"
"Please."
He took her hand in his and again led her toward their goal. The walk up the hall was short and hurried. Almost without thought, Dora pulled the door closed behind them, plunging the room into darkness.
She expected him to drag her to the bed, strip her down and ravage her then and there. She expected it to be an almost frightening experience. She expected so many things. And not a single one of them happened.
His hand left hers and she felt more than heard him step away from her. Unfamiliar with the new terrain, she remained standing where she was and simply waited. Light flared to life, not from the tip of his wand but from a single candle. A moment or two later, a second flame joined the first. Dora had the impression of books on shelves against one wall and a armoire on another. The rest of the room was dominated by a large, wooden framed bed with thick posts in each corner. Dark, forest green curtains were tied back to show a thick mattress covered with dove grey sheets and a hunter green duvet.
Before she could take in anything more, he was once again drawing her into his arms. Her heart pounded in her chest as another rush of heat poured through her. His arms twined around her, enveloped her in his hold as his mouth sought out hers a second time. She melted into him eagerly, her body thrumming with wild energy. She wasn't sure if the alcohol was playing into her desires, but she wanted him, every nerve singing with desperate need.
The kiss resulted in heady desire pouring through her, exploding into life so forcefully that muscles deep inside clenched tight. His fingers stroked lightly along the length of her spine, teasing her skin beneath the material of her gown. When they reached the small of her back. they drifted apart so that he could curl them around her hips. His hands urged her closer to him, drawing a whimper from her throat.
She barely noted that they were moving, barely realized he was steering her toward the bed until she felt the touch of it on the back of her legs. He broke the kiss then, his eyes boring into hers. Some instinct saw her moving her hands, sending them seeking out the elegant buttons that held his coat closed. She was aware of slipping the buttons from their holes in a vague, almost disconnected way. Her fingers were clumsy in their efforts, but she didn't notice. Her attention was given over to her task. The only goal she in mind was to strip his clothes from him.
He broke away from her, his eyes glittering in the soft glow of the candles' lights as he watched her. She continued undoing the buttons, her eyes locked to him. She could feel her hands shaking ever so slightly. She ignored it, concentrated on the deep, inky well that his eyes had become. A light touch at her hips told her that his hands had shifted toward her back. Moments later, his fingers were plucking at the zipper that held her gown closed.
Their clothes were peeled away one piece at a time. He took his own sweet time with her gown, allowing her the opportunity to rid him of his coat, the matched vest and the soft white shirt underneath. His shirt hit the ground at the same time that her gown did. When she stood before him in her undergarments, he stepped back so that he could rake his gaze up and down her frame. It gave her the chance to do the same with his torso.
His chest was lean and pale. She could see the muscles as they shifted and bunched under his flesh with every move he made. His nipples were small, flat disks with tiny peaks in the center. Some inner voice urged her to taste and tease them. She closed the distance between them so that she could run tentative fingers across one of them. There was the slightest reaction in the muscle beneath, a very faint flinch. Taking joy in that, Dora leaned forward and wrapped her mouth around the tiny nubbin. An experimental suck had him drawing a sharp breath.
After that, it became a game. Each time some piece of skin was revealed, they took the opportunity to touch and caress the freshly exposed area. His mouth worked across her shoulders, over the swell of her breasts still caught in their lacy prison. His hands tested the texture of her flesh, trailing lightly over her belly and hips. Her hands tickled across his ribs, grazed his belly button while her mouth fed at his nipples and her tongue traced patterns along his collar bone.
He unhooked the strapless lace bra she wore, let it flutter to the floor like a crushed butterfly. Her hands found the button and zip of his trousers, undid them and pushed the garment to the floor. His mouth closed over one nipple, suckled at the peak until it pulled something tight low in her abdomen. Her back arched, offering him more of her breast. A gasp rolled up her throat when his teeth grated the sensitive tip, sparking little bolts of pain that made the blood pound in her veins.
And just when she thought she couldn't take anymore, his head lifted from one breast so that he could repeat the sensual assault on its twin.
"Lay back upon the bed, my dear," he instructed, voice low and heavy. She blinked at him and complied slowly. Her limbs didn't seem to want to work as she climbed upon the bed. The mattress was obscenely soft beneath her, welcoming her body into it as if it were an old, well known lover. Dora propped herself up on her elbows so she could watch him, her gaze flicking up and down the length of his body slowly. She stopped at the black silk boxers and stared hard, as if doing so would make them melt away and reveal their hidden treasure. As if he knew what she was thinking, he chuckled. It was a dark sound that sent shivers up her spine. "Patience, my dear. All in good time."
His voice was so smooth and decadent, like the finest chocolate in the world. She felt as if she could roll herself up in it, drown in his words. She couldn't stop the sigh that the images running through her head brought up her throat. His hands reached for her waist, his fingers curling into the straps of her panties. They matched the bra she'd been wearing and soon joined it on the floor. Then he was lifting a foot, the fingers of one hand curled around her ankle while the others took hold of the shoe she wore.
There was a dull thud as the heeled slipper hit the floor. His hands caressed her foot, teasing rivers of liquid fire to life under her skin, before he set the foot down on the edge of the mattress. His hands lifted the other foot so that he could tug the shoe off and drop it carelessly to the floor before teasing it the way he'd teased its mate. When she was sure that her muscles had been turned to jelly, he rested her foot on the edge of the bed and simply stared down at her.
Her legs were parted, allowing him an unfettered view of her body. A flush stole over her when his eyes focused on the curls between her thighs and she was nearly swallowed by an image to cover herself. It took every ounce of courage she possessed to hold her legs open. His gaze, so bold and assessing, softened until it was filled with pleasure. His fingers hooked in the waistband of his boxer and, with a single tug, dragged them off. He straightened and kicked them off, allowing her to see every inch of him.
She'd seen naked men before. At least, she'd seen images in books. But those had been clinical. Impersonal. Lacking in life. The man before her was very much alive and very much aroused by his wife. His erection was thick and tall, the skin flushed to a deep reddish-pink. The candle's glow caught on a bead of moisture that sat on the head. For reasons she couldn't quite explain at that moment, she was suddenly filled with hunger and almost left her reclining position to reach for him.
"It is called desire, my dear. And do not move. I wish to ensure that you will achieve the greatest joy from our coupling. To do so, I must stroke the flames of desire higher." There was a matching hunger in his voice that sent a ripple down her spine. He joined her on the bed, on his knees between her spread thighs. His gaze lingered on her bared flesh once more, his eyes roving over each part of her slowly. His fingers grazed the insides of her thighs, teasing the flesh until she whimpered softly.
She started, gasping in surprise, when his fingers drifted over her curls and nether lips. He stroked them slowly, up and down, each pass seeing a little more of his finger slipping between the swollen folds until she could feel the moisture that had built there. It was something she hadn't noticed until the presence of his finger alerted her to it. Desire, he'd called it. Definitely desire. She'd desired before, but not like this. This was a new desire that the books had never quite been able to explain.
Her breath hissed from her when his finger slid forward and brushed across her clitoris. Sensations jolted along her spine, saw her hips rocking involuntarily toward him. In response to her actions, he added a second finger and slowly began circling them around the nubbin of flesh. Every so often, they would drag across her clit, sending more sparks of hunger through her body. A gentle tension began to build behind his touches, growing heavier and stronger with each pass of his fingers until it felt as if she would break into hundreds of tiny pieces.
His fingers drew back to give his thumb room. It flicked across the surface of her clit, drawing a sharp gasp from her. The gasp ended with a moan when he slowly pressed his fingers into her. Another flick of his thumb had her crying out, her body going rigid as the tension within her exploded into shimmering pieces of rainbow confetti. For just a moment, it felt as if she floated upon a cloud. She barely noted that his fingers stroked in and out of her body in slow, shallow thrusts and his thumb continued to flick over the sensitive bundle of her clit.
When Dora came back to herself, Severus had removed his fingers and stared down at her with a faint hint of a smile on his face. "I do believe you are ready for me, my dear," he whispered. She gave a nod of her head, more than willing to agree with him if the amazing feelings would continue. His hands took hold of her hips, taking a moment to angle them before one hand let go of her so that it could take hold of his shaft. "Relax, Pandora. This might hurt briefly."
She'd barely processed the warning before he was pressing himself into her, moving so achingly slowly that instinct demanded she lift her hips and drive him in the rest of the way. There was a barely noticeable flare of pain as he broke past the proof of her virginity. He paused a moment or two, giving her the chance to feel her muscles as they flexed and clenched around him, adjusting to his invasion. After a few seconds, he began pushing forward again.
Her eyes slid shut when he was finally fully sheathed inside of her. It was such a tight fit, his body snug against hers on the outside while hers was snug against his on the inside. It was kind of a heavenly feeling, something she thought she could enjoy for the rest of her life. Severus simply held himself there, leaving her to wonder if she would have to beg him for more.
When he didn't move for a long time, she opened her eyes to find that he'd closed his. There was such an intense expression on his face, something that was a mix of pleasure and possibly hesitation. She couldn't be sure. But that look made her shudder beneath him, which earned her a groan. His eyes opened so that he could pin her with a stare. "Merlin's beard, you are so tight and wet. Wrap your legs around my waist and hold tight."
She nodded before twining her legs around him. His hands left her hips so that he could plant them in the bedding on either side of her. She'd long ago fallen back against the mattress and simply lay there under him, watching and waiting.
His hips moved, drawing back away from her. The feel of his length sliding from her gave birth to another groan, though she wasn't sure if it was from her throat or his. She didn't care because soon enough, he was thrust back into her. The sensation of his shaft driving slowly back into her shot need through her veins and that same tension from before began growing again.
The room was filled with the soft slapping of their flesh coming together. The gasping of their breath as they tried to draw air into their lungs. The occasional sound that spoke to how turned on she was by this. By him. No man had ever made her feel this way before. She barely knew him, barely knew anything about him, but she so obviously wanted him. Was this lust or was it something else? Something more? Was it possible to fall in love with a man in such a short amount of time?
The questions were driven from her head as he continued to thrust, his hips flexing as he drove himself in and out. She could feel the hard length of him as it rubbed against her muscled walls. She was too overwhelmed by sensations to think about anything. Desire filled her, as did hunger. Tension raced through her. It felt as if her entire body was overdosing on pleasure.
Despite the slow rhythm he'd set, the tension was suddenly too much to bear and she burst into a shower of fireworks that flashed behind her eyes, that shimmered and sparked under her skin in a never ending spray of heat. She gasped softly, her back bowing with her release. And again, she found herself staring up at him. Though his hips hadn't stopped moving, his eyes were glued to her face as he watched her. "There is nothing quite so lovely as a woman caught in the throes of orgasm. And there will be more to come this night. I promise."
His hips flashed a little harder, a little faster. So very slowly, Severus lowered himself until his chest was pressed to hers. This close, she could see that his eyes filled with his own growing, burning desire. There was an almost hypnotic pull to them and she felt herself sinking into them once again. The feeling was gone when he broke eye contact and took her mouth with his own for yet another searing kiss.
Her arms slid around his shoulders, her fingers slipping into the softness of his hair. She could feel his heart pounding against her chest, could feel the sweat that beaded up on their torsos. The moisture enabled their skin to glide back and forth each time he thrust in and drew out.
His mouth tasted of need, his lips moving across hers with reckless abandon. Somewhere between the hall and that moment, he'd lost his stoic reserve. He was almost wild. She saw little of his control in his kiss, in the way his tongue stabbed fiercely into her mouth, in the rapid tempo that his hips used while he drove into her time and again.
That was because of her. For whatever reason, he was unhinged and she'd been the one to make it happen. A dizzying sense of power spilled through her, a power that came from the fairness of face and the soft curves of a woman's body. His hips joined his, moving in time with his own strokes. Accidental instinct saw her clenching down around him when he was buried inside of her and
he fed her a grin.
And he drove into her all the faster. All the harder.
Dora was caught up in a maelstrom of emotional and physical sensations. The only thing that mattered was the way he made her feel, the way he felt inside of her. What she could do to drive him as mad as he seemed wont to drive her. Because that same tension was back, building to what she suspected would be a fever pitch this time. And she could sense that same tension in him, in the way his muscles quivered. As if he was holding it back.
His need called to her, drawing her even deeper into their encounter. She clutched at him harder, matched his pace stroke for stroke. Her lips moved with his, her tongue dancing along his as they battled for control of her mouth. She wanted to take him over the edge of the cliff he'd introduced her to twice before, wanted to hear him when he climaxed. A groan or a soft grunt. She didn't think he'd yell out. He wasn't likely to let go of himself so much as to let that happen. But she knew that he'd make some sort of appreciative sound when the time came. A sound that would be all for her.
Marriage took on a new meaning then. He was hers. Legally. She thought, as his drove into her and pushed her ever closer to her next peak, that perhaps she'd been hasty to suggest they make this union about convenience. Their encounter was more than pleasing for both of them. And, God help her for the suddenly dirty thoughts that raced through her brain, she wanted to do more than simply this with him. The books had told her there was more. So much more. And she wanted to try all of it.
Those thoughts fled, too, as his strokes came fast and furious, barely driving deep before pulling back to start the cycle over again. He was so close. She knew it, could sense his need to come hovering around him like some spectre. Dora pulled back, whispered to him in Italian. She told him all the dirty things she wanted him to do to her. That she wanted to do to him. She spoke until her words slid off into hoarse cries and soft moans.
Sweat dripped from his forehead and the tip of his nose. She only noticed it as an abstract idea, her mind still wrapped up in the growing cloud of pleasure that had enveloped them. Need and desire spiraled through her, combining with the tension to bring her to a new plateau. She could see that she was standing on the edge, ready to fall over at any moment. And she knew that Severus was only a few strokes away from joining her.
"Please, Severus. Please come with me," she whispered, lifting her head up off the bed to lick up the underside of his chin. His skin was salty with sweat, bitter with something else she couldn't place. That didn't matter. The tip of her tongue came up over the curve of his chin and she licked across his lips. In the blink of an eye, he sucked her tongue into his mouth so that his lips could press another kiss upon her.
The kiss lasted for all of five seconds before his pulled his mouth from hers. His hips snapped against hers hard once, twice, a third time. A soft groan rolled up his throat a moment before she felt him swell inside of her. She knew what it meant, kept rocking her hips against his, clenched her muscles down around him. He propped himself up on one hand so that he could reach between them with the other. His fingers brushed her clit, the barest of touches.
Dora came hard.
Stars exploded behind her eyes in a rainbow of colors, bursts of light that left her feeling disoriented. She clung to him, cried his name out into the room while her orgasm rode her. The tension that had been building shattered, though her spine was rigid, her body locked tight beneath him. His shaft twitched a moment before she felt his seed fill her. His fingers stroked her clit one last time, wringing one last shudder from her, then he drew back and slowly collapsed on top of her. She could do nothing but cling to him as she gasped for air and tried to remember who she was.
Eventually, the sound of their harsh rasping died. Dora lay spent under him, her hands loose against his back. She barely felt the weight of his body pressing into hers, still floating on a cloud of pleasure. She'd never been so wonderfully tired before in all of her life. Her limbs felt like jelly and her body seemed impossibly heavy. The combination of the alcohol she'd consumed and the post-coitus bliss saw her yawning. Sleep was not far off.
Severus pulled away from her just far enough to look her in the eye. He gave an indulgent smile, then rose completely from the bed. He reached for her, easily picking her up and cradling her in his arms. She snuggled against him, content simply to be held. A moment or two later, he settled her back upon the bed, this time with her head on the pillows and the covers thrown back. Then he leaned over and blew out the candle on her side of the bed.
She watched as he strolled around to the other side, utterly comfortable and casual in his nudity. He didn't blow out the candle there, instead climbing into the bed and settling beside her before pulling the covers up over them both. She rolled onto her side so she could look at him. "That was..." she began, only to stop and blush.
He smiled again, a soft chuckle shaking his shoulders. "Yes. It was." One hand reached for her and pulled her close, allowing her to settle her head on his shoulder. His arm curved around her shoulders to hold her against him. She was mildly surprised by the action but she said nothing. She rather liked being held by him. He said nothing else, simply closed his eyes. Dora did the same.
She was almost asleep when his voice, low and silky smooth, filled the void. "Good night, Pandora. Sleep well. Pleasant dreams."
They certainly were pleasant...
end chapter nine.
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Title: Pandora's Box
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: adult, mature. no one under 18. not even with a parent. no smut for you kiddies.
Warnings: sex, language, possible violence at some point. whatever i really feel like using, honestly
Disclaimer: none of the characters portrayed in this work of fiction belong to me. Pandora belongs to the lovely and talented Ginevra. the rest of the recognizable characters belong to J. K. Rowling. they're not much, much as i'd like them to be. i make no money from this. the only payment coming my way is the joyous comments that are left to my journal. please don't hurt me.
Pandora's Box - The Index
Chapter Nine: Spinner's End
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Spinner's End was a small, cramped, dingy, dark little home on the end of a small, cramped, dingy, dark little street. They'd Apparated directly from the reception to the front stoop of the home. A look up the lane behind her showed Pandora that the entire place was dark, as if the place had been abandoned. It had that feeling of loneliness that old, unlived in homes tended to have. The school where Pandora had taught before coming to England had once had that feeling to it. Before she'd lovingly cleaned it and then opened it to the children of her village. Something about the aura of general disuse that seemed to cloak the place made Dora feel sad.
She heard Severus whisper in the dark, his voice soft and sibilant as he spoke the words that would deactivate the wards and spells laid upon his home. There was a fine tremor in the air around the place, a gentle hum that teased at the back of her brain. Most people would have been unnerved by it, would have turned and left before now. She suspected that he'd fine tuned them so that she would be able to get in and out without being fried. There was no mistaking the amount of power surrounding her.
With the last hiss of sound, the spells seemed to fold back upon themselves, as if opening a door for them to pass through. Severus took her hand in his and tugged her lightly through the gap in the magic and the building's wooden door before reaching past her to touch his fingers against nothing. She felt the spells snap back into place behind them as if she'd been hit by a hand. He escorted her deeper into the shadows, the door swinging closed on silent hinges to cut off the weak light leaking in from the street.
Soft, golden illumination filled the room, chasing the shadows back into the farthest corners of the room. Her eyes swept the chamber and its contents slowly. There were books upon shelves on nearly every wall, each tome lovingly worn and aged. The floor was covered with a thin, tread-bare rug. The only furnishings were an arm chair, the material worn away in the seat and along the arms. A small sofa had been crammed in, along with one end table. It, too, was stacked high with a teetering tower of books. The light came from the hearth and several candles. There were two doors leading off the small sitting area.
Dora turned her attention over to Severus after studying everything. He looked tense, as if he expected her to belittle him for his home. She offered him a shy smile while one hand motioned toward the room around her. "Its very cosy," she told him. "I can easily picture you sitting in the arm chair, a cup of tea cooling at your elbow as you read from one of the many books you have here."
His lips quirked in the beginnings of a faint smile. "An accurate assessment, my dear," he agreed. "You can no doubt see that the chair is my favorite place to relax."
She could tell that it was. In fact, she suspected that his home was a place where he relaxed. Some of the stiff, hard exterior had peeled away from him the moment the door had closed behind them, revealing to her the softer man who lay hidden under the surface. For just a moment, Dora entertained an image of him settled in that worn arm chair, a tiny bundle of squirming humanity cradled against his chest. The image was so intense and unanticipated that she felt a pang of longing run through her.
Quickly, before he could sense that anything was off, she pushed the image away and cleared her mind. Or tried. Even though she knew that theirs was only a marriage of convenience, she couldn't stop herself from thinking about what it might be like if it wasn't. Even though their contact had been limited to mostly impersonal touches, the times she'd danced with him and when they'd kissed had told her that there was something more to him than the stern and stuffy man he presented to the world. She wanted to find out what that something was.
Perhaps she'd had too much wine at the reception. Her thoughts before the wedding had been clear, with nary a notion of sex creeping through her brain. She'd known and accepted that they were marrying for less than traditional reasons. But now, with the "I dos" spoken, her brain was re-arranging her priorities. And watching her husband strip naked was on the top of the list.
Yes. She'd definitely had too much to drink.
"I regret that there is very little to show you. The kitchen is through there," he told her as he pointed toward one of the doors. Then his hand gestured to the other door. "That door opens onto the stairs that lead up to the second floor and the bedrooms."
"Its a lovely home, Severus. I do hope I won't be too intrusive." They hadn't really talked about sleeping arrangements. Or, for that matter, where she would live. There was the flat she'd stayed in during her short engagement, but it seemed wrong to keep living in it when she was married and her spouse had his own home. She'd thought, even if she hadn't really acknowledged it, that she would live with Severus. He was her husband. But what if he didn't want her to live with him? What was she to do then? How would that look to the rest of the magical community?
"As I won't be here much of the time, I highly doubt that will happen. I do not mind if you make yourself home but I do request that you do not alter any part of my home without first discussing it with me." He motioned toward the door that he'd indicated opened on the stairs. "Shall we finish the tour?"
"Yes. That would be lovely."
He held a hand out to her. Dora reached out to place one of her hands in his. His hold was firm and strong without being overpowering. Severus tugged her closer, then escorted her toward the closed panel.
It swung open before they reached it to reveal a narrow stairwell that hugged the wall. A single candle in a glass lantern provided the only light. Severus allowed her to climb the steps before him. She balanced herself with a hand on the wall, listening to her shoes making noise as their heels hit the uncarpeted steps. His footsteps were conspicuously absent and she thought she could feel his eyes on her backside. A small finger of heat worked its way deep into her belly.
They reached the top of the stairs to find themselves standing at the end of a short hallway. There were three doors, each of them standing open. Even from where she stood, she could see that one room was dedicated entirely to books. They lined the walls on their shelves, crowding the room. A small desk was shoved into one corner and there was a second arm chair settled before one of the shelves. The second door showed her Severus' bedroom, the end of the bed visible through the opened portal. The last door opened up to the loo.
"As I said earlier," he said. He stood directly behind her, his breath brushing the shell of her ear as his words slipped past it. "It is small and somewhat cramped. If it is not to your liking, please inform me. I realize that you are used to something far grander than this."
"There is nothing wrong with your home, Severus," Dora assured him, turning to stare up into his face. Something sparkled in his eyes, something that caught and held her. She felt as if she were frozen, falling into a deep, inky well that was hot and cold all at the same time. Her heart was suddenly pounding in her chest, so hard that it felt as if it would burst through her ribs. She opened her mouth in an attempt to break the spell, but nothing came out.
"I realize suddenly just how shabby my home must seem to you. It appears shabby when compared with your fresh, youthful beauty." His words made her blush. Yes. She'd had too much to drink. Perhaps he had, too. No one had ever spoken to her in such a way and she suspected that he didn't use such words with just anyone.
It felt as if electricity crackled between them. There was a sense of hunger to him that she'd never associated with her husband before. Had something changed with the exchange of their vows? Or was it something that had always been there, simmering beneath the surface? Waiting for the right moment to reveal itself? Her fingers itched to reach out and touch him, to run along the fine linen material of his wedding clothes. She wanted to feel his skin against her own.
"Severus, I..." It was all she managed to get out before his hands were cupped around her face. The two of them came together on the landing, his mouth hungry and eager upon her own. She slid her arms up around his neck, pressed her body along the length of his. She shuddered to feel the hardness of his erection prodding her belly. The cut of his clothes hid so much from view.
The fruity taste of the wine they'd had at the reception clung to his tongue and lips, teasing her senses with promises of exotic things. A vague recollection of that sensual dream rose to the surface of her mind, then quickly sank back into the depths. His hands had moved from her cheeks to spear into her hair, his fingers shaped to the curve of her skull as he directed the way she tilted her head. His mouth was demanding and masterful as it plundered hers.
Dora had kissed men before, but it had never been anything like this. The other kisses paled in comparison to the one that he was presently pressing upon her. Her body tingled with anticipation. She had a general knowledge of what was to follow. And that was it. Simply a general knowledge that she'd learned from books and her mother. While her mind was far from virginal, her body had yet to experience the joys of physical pleasure.
She had a feeling that her status as a virgin would change tonight.
He pulled away from her only when he needed to draw air into his lungs. She gasped for breath along with him, her fingers curled tightly into the collar of his coat to help keep her standing. Her knees shook with equal parts anticipation and fear. When he looked down at her, his eyes sparkled with emotion. "Shall we retire for the evening, my dear?"
"Please."
He took her hand in his and again led her toward their goal. The walk up the hall was short and hurried. Almost without thought, Dora pulled the door closed behind them, plunging the room into darkness.
She expected him to drag her to the bed, strip her down and ravage her then and there. She expected it to be an almost frightening experience. She expected so many things. And not a single one of them happened.
His hand left hers and she felt more than heard him step away from her. Unfamiliar with the new terrain, she remained standing where she was and simply waited. Light flared to life, not from the tip of his wand but from a single candle. A moment or two later, a second flame joined the first. Dora had the impression of books on shelves against one wall and a armoire on another. The rest of the room was dominated by a large, wooden framed bed with thick posts in each corner. Dark, forest green curtains were tied back to show a thick mattress covered with dove grey sheets and a hunter green duvet.
Before she could take in anything more, he was once again drawing her into his arms. Her heart pounded in her chest as another rush of heat poured through her. His arms twined around her, enveloped her in his hold as his mouth sought out hers a second time. She melted into him eagerly, her body thrumming with wild energy. She wasn't sure if the alcohol was playing into her desires, but she wanted him, every nerve singing with desperate need.
The kiss resulted in heady desire pouring through her, exploding into life so forcefully that muscles deep inside clenched tight. His fingers stroked lightly along the length of her spine, teasing her skin beneath the material of her gown. When they reached the small of her back. they drifted apart so that he could curl them around her hips. His hands urged her closer to him, drawing a whimper from her throat.
She barely noted that they were moving, barely realized he was steering her toward the bed until she felt the touch of it on the back of her legs. He broke the kiss then, his eyes boring into hers. Some instinct saw her moving her hands, sending them seeking out the elegant buttons that held his coat closed. She was aware of slipping the buttons from their holes in a vague, almost disconnected way. Her fingers were clumsy in their efforts, but she didn't notice. Her attention was given over to her task. The only goal she in mind was to strip his clothes from him.
He broke away from her, his eyes glittering in the soft glow of the candles' lights as he watched her. She continued undoing the buttons, her eyes locked to him. She could feel her hands shaking ever so slightly. She ignored it, concentrated on the deep, inky well that his eyes had become. A light touch at her hips told her that his hands had shifted toward her back. Moments later, his fingers were plucking at the zipper that held her gown closed.
Their clothes were peeled away one piece at a time. He took his own sweet time with her gown, allowing her the opportunity to rid him of his coat, the matched vest and the soft white shirt underneath. His shirt hit the ground at the same time that her gown did. When she stood before him in her undergarments, he stepped back so that he could rake his gaze up and down her frame. It gave her the chance to do the same with his torso.
His chest was lean and pale. She could see the muscles as they shifted and bunched under his flesh with every move he made. His nipples were small, flat disks with tiny peaks in the center. Some inner voice urged her to taste and tease them. She closed the distance between them so that she could run tentative fingers across one of them. There was the slightest reaction in the muscle beneath, a very faint flinch. Taking joy in that, Dora leaned forward and wrapped her mouth around the tiny nubbin. An experimental suck had him drawing a sharp breath.
After that, it became a game. Each time some piece of skin was revealed, they took the opportunity to touch and caress the freshly exposed area. His mouth worked across her shoulders, over the swell of her breasts still caught in their lacy prison. His hands tested the texture of her flesh, trailing lightly over her belly and hips. Her hands tickled across his ribs, grazed his belly button while her mouth fed at his nipples and her tongue traced patterns along his collar bone.
He unhooked the strapless lace bra she wore, let it flutter to the floor like a crushed butterfly. Her hands found the button and zip of his trousers, undid them and pushed the garment to the floor. His mouth closed over one nipple, suckled at the peak until it pulled something tight low in her abdomen. Her back arched, offering him more of her breast. A gasp rolled up her throat when his teeth grated the sensitive tip, sparking little bolts of pain that made the blood pound in her veins.
And just when she thought she couldn't take anymore, his head lifted from one breast so that he could repeat the sensual assault on its twin.
"Lay back upon the bed, my dear," he instructed, voice low and heavy. She blinked at him and complied slowly. Her limbs didn't seem to want to work as she climbed upon the bed. The mattress was obscenely soft beneath her, welcoming her body into it as if it were an old, well known lover. Dora propped herself up on her elbows so she could watch him, her gaze flicking up and down the length of his body slowly. She stopped at the black silk boxers and stared hard, as if doing so would make them melt away and reveal their hidden treasure. As if he knew what she was thinking, he chuckled. It was a dark sound that sent shivers up her spine. "Patience, my dear. All in good time."
His voice was so smooth and decadent, like the finest chocolate in the world. She felt as if she could roll herself up in it, drown in his words. She couldn't stop the sigh that the images running through her head brought up her throat. His hands reached for her waist, his fingers curling into the straps of her panties. They matched the bra she'd been wearing and soon joined it on the floor. Then he was lifting a foot, the fingers of one hand curled around her ankle while the others took hold of the shoe she wore.
There was a dull thud as the heeled slipper hit the floor. His hands caressed her foot, teasing rivers of liquid fire to life under her skin, before he set the foot down on the edge of the mattress. His hands lifted the other foot so that he could tug the shoe off and drop it carelessly to the floor before teasing it the way he'd teased its mate. When she was sure that her muscles had been turned to jelly, he rested her foot on the edge of the bed and simply stared down at her.
Her legs were parted, allowing him an unfettered view of her body. A flush stole over her when his eyes focused on the curls between her thighs and she was nearly swallowed by an image to cover herself. It took every ounce of courage she possessed to hold her legs open. His gaze, so bold and assessing, softened until it was filled with pleasure. His fingers hooked in the waistband of his boxer and, with a single tug, dragged them off. He straightened and kicked them off, allowing her to see every inch of him.
She'd seen naked men before. At least, she'd seen images in books. But those had been clinical. Impersonal. Lacking in life. The man before her was very much alive and very much aroused by his wife. His erection was thick and tall, the skin flushed to a deep reddish-pink. The candle's glow caught on a bead of moisture that sat on the head. For reasons she couldn't quite explain at that moment, she was suddenly filled with hunger and almost left her reclining position to reach for him.
"It is called desire, my dear. And do not move. I wish to ensure that you will achieve the greatest joy from our coupling. To do so, I must stroke the flames of desire higher." There was a matching hunger in his voice that sent a ripple down her spine. He joined her on the bed, on his knees between her spread thighs. His gaze lingered on her bared flesh once more, his eyes roving over each part of her slowly. His fingers grazed the insides of her thighs, teasing the flesh until she whimpered softly.
She started, gasping in surprise, when his fingers drifted over her curls and nether lips. He stroked them slowly, up and down, each pass seeing a little more of his finger slipping between the swollen folds until she could feel the moisture that had built there. It was something she hadn't noticed until the presence of his finger alerted her to it. Desire, he'd called it. Definitely desire. She'd desired before, but not like this. This was a new desire that the books had never quite been able to explain.
Her breath hissed from her when his finger slid forward and brushed across her clitoris. Sensations jolted along her spine, saw her hips rocking involuntarily toward him. In response to her actions, he added a second finger and slowly began circling them around the nubbin of flesh. Every so often, they would drag across her clit, sending more sparks of hunger through her body. A gentle tension began to build behind his touches, growing heavier and stronger with each pass of his fingers until it felt as if she would break into hundreds of tiny pieces.
His fingers drew back to give his thumb room. It flicked across the surface of her clit, drawing a sharp gasp from her. The gasp ended with a moan when he slowly pressed his fingers into her. Another flick of his thumb had her crying out, her body going rigid as the tension within her exploded into shimmering pieces of rainbow confetti. For just a moment, it felt as if she floated upon a cloud. She barely noted that his fingers stroked in and out of her body in slow, shallow thrusts and his thumb continued to flick over the sensitive bundle of her clit.
When Dora came back to herself, Severus had removed his fingers and stared down at her with a faint hint of a smile on his face. "I do believe you are ready for me, my dear," he whispered. She gave a nod of her head, more than willing to agree with him if the amazing feelings would continue. His hands took hold of her hips, taking a moment to angle them before one hand let go of her so that it could take hold of his shaft. "Relax, Pandora. This might hurt briefly."
She'd barely processed the warning before he was pressing himself into her, moving so achingly slowly that instinct demanded she lift her hips and drive him in the rest of the way. There was a barely noticeable flare of pain as he broke past the proof of her virginity. He paused a moment or two, giving her the chance to feel her muscles as they flexed and clenched around him, adjusting to his invasion. After a few seconds, he began pushing forward again.
Her eyes slid shut when he was finally fully sheathed inside of her. It was such a tight fit, his body snug against hers on the outside while hers was snug against his on the inside. It was kind of a heavenly feeling, something she thought she could enjoy for the rest of her life. Severus simply held himself there, leaving her to wonder if she would have to beg him for more.
When he didn't move for a long time, she opened her eyes to find that he'd closed his. There was such an intense expression on his face, something that was a mix of pleasure and possibly hesitation. She couldn't be sure. But that look made her shudder beneath him, which earned her a groan. His eyes opened so that he could pin her with a stare. "Merlin's beard, you are so tight and wet. Wrap your legs around my waist and hold tight."
She nodded before twining her legs around him. His hands left her hips so that he could plant them in the bedding on either side of her. She'd long ago fallen back against the mattress and simply lay there under him, watching and waiting.
His hips moved, drawing back away from her. The feel of his length sliding from her gave birth to another groan, though she wasn't sure if it was from her throat or his. She didn't care because soon enough, he was thrust back into her. The sensation of his shaft driving slowly back into her shot need through her veins and that same tension from before began growing again.
The room was filled with the soft slapping of their flesh coming together. The gasping of their breath as they tried to draw air into their lungs. The occasional sound that spoke to how turned on she was by this. By him. No man had ever made her feel this way before. She barely knew him, barely knew anything about him, but she so obviously wanted him. Was this lust or was it something else? Something more? Was it possible to fall in love with a man in such a short amount of time?
The questions were driven from her head as he continued to thrust, his hips flexing as he drove himself in and out. She could feel the hard length of him as it rubbed against her muscled walls. She was too overwhelmed by sensations to think about anything. Desire filled her, as did hunger. Tension raced through her. It felt as if her entire body was overdosing on pleasure.
Despite the slow rhythm he'd set, the tension was suddenly too much to bear and she burst into a shower of fireworks that flashed behind her eyes, that shimmered and sparked under her skin in a never ending spray of heat. She gasped softly, her back bowing with her release. And again, she found herself staring up at him. Though his hips hadn't stopped moving, his eyes were glued to her face as he watched her. "There is nothing quite so lovely as a woman caught in the throes of orgasm. And there will be more to come this night. I promise."
His hips flashed a little harder, a little faster. So very slowly, Severus lowered himself until his chest was pressed to hers. This close, she could see that his eyes filled with his own growing, burning desire. There was an almost hypnotic pull to them and she felt herself sinking into them once again. The feeling was gone when he broke eye contact and took her mouth with his own for yet another searing kiss.
Her arms slid around his shoulders, her fingers slipping into the softness of his hair. She could feel his heart pounding against her chest, could feel the sweat that beaded up on their torsos. The moisture enabled their skin to glide back and forth each time he thrust in and drew out.
His mouth tasted of need, his lips moving across hers with reckless abandon. Somewhere between the hall and that moment, he'd lost his stoic reserve. He was almost wild. She saw little of his control in his kiss, in the way his tongue stabbed fiercely into her mouth, in the rapid tempo that his hips used while he drove into her time and again.
That was because of her. For whatever reason, he was unhinged and she'd been the one to make it happen. A dizzying sense of power spilled through her, a power that came from the fairness of face and the soft curves of a woman's body. His hips joined his, moving in time with his own strokes. Accidental instinct saw her clenching down around him when he was buried inside of her and
he fed her a grin.
And he drove into her all the faster. All the harder.
Dora was caught up in a maelstrom of emotional and physical sensations. The only thing that mattered was the way he made her feel, the way he felt inside of her. What she could do to drive him as mad as he seemed wont to drive her. Because that same tension was back, building to what she suspected would be a fever pitch this time. And she could sense that same tension in him, in the way his muscles quivered. As if he was holding it back.
His need called to her, drawing her even deeper into their encounter. She clutched at him harder, matched his pace stroke for stroke. Her lips moved with his, her tongue dancing along his as they battled for control of her mouth. She wanted to take him over the edge of the cliff he'd introduced her to twice before, wanted to hear him when he climaxed. A groan or a soft grunt. She didn't think he'd yell out. He wasn't likely to let go of himself so much as to let that happen. But she knew that he'd make some sort of appreciative sound when the time came. A sound that would be all for her.
Marriage took on a new meaning then. He was hers. Legally. She thought, as his drove into her and pushed her ever closer to her next peak, that perhaps she'd been hasty to suggest they make this union about convenience. Their encounter was more than pleasing for both of them. And, God help her for the suddenly dirty thoughts that raced through her brain, she wanted to do more than simply this with him. The books had told her there was more. So much more. And she wanted to try all of it.
Those thoughts fled, too, as his strokes came fast and furious, barely driving deep before pulling back to start the cycle over again. He was so close. She knew it, could sense his need to come hovering around him like some spectre. Dora pulled back, whispered to him in Italian. She told him all the dirty things she wanted him to do to her. That she wanted to do to him. She spoke until her words slid off into hoarse cries and soft moans.
Sweat dripped from his forehead and the tip of his nose. She only noticed it as an abstract idea, her mind still wrapped up in the growing cloud of pleasure that had enveloped them. Need and desire spiraled through her, combining with the tension to bring her to a new plateau. She could see that she was standing on the edge, ready to fall over at any moment. And she knew that Severus was only a few strokes away from joining her.
"Please, Severus. Please come with me," she whispered, lifting her head up off the bed to lick up the underside of his chin. His skin was salty with sweat, bitter with something else she couldn't place. That didn't matter. The tip of her tongue came up over the curve of his chin and she licked across his lips. In the blink of an eye, he sucked her tongue into his mouth so that his lips could press another kiss upon her.
The kiss lasted for all of five seconds before his pulled his mouth from hers. His hips snapped against hers hard once, twice, a third time. A soft groan rolled up his throat a moment before she felt him swell inside of her. She knew what it meant, kept rocking her hips against his, clenched her muscles down around him. He propped himself up on one hand so that he could reach between them with the other. His fingers brushed her clit, the barest of touches.
Dora came hard.
Stars exploded behind her eyes in a rainbow of colors, bursts of light that left her feeling disoriented. She clung to him, cried his name out into the room while her orgasm rode her. The tension that had been building shattered, though her spine was rigid, her body locked tight beneath him. His shaft twitched a moment before she felt his seed fill her. His fingers stroked her clit one last time, wringing one last shudder from her, then he drew back and slowly collapsed on top of her. She could do nothing but cling to him as she gasped for air and tried to remember who she was.
Eventually, the sound of their harsh rasping died. Dora lay spent under him, her hands loose against his back. She barely felt the weight of his body pressing into hers, still floating on a cloud of pleasure. She'd never been so wonderfully tired before in all of her life. Her limbs felt like jelly and her body seemed impossibly heavy. The combination of the alcohol she'd consumed and the post-coitus bliss saw her yawning. Sleep was not far off.
Severus pulled away from her just far enough to look her in the eye. He gave an indulgent smile, then rose completely from the bed. He reached for her, easily picking her up and cradling her in his arms. She snuggled against him, content simply to be held. A moment or two later, he settled her back upon the bed, this time with her head on the pillows and the covers thrown back. Then he leaned over and blew out the candle on her side of the bed.
She watched as he strolled around to the other side, utterly comfortable and casual in his nudity. He didn't blow out the candle there, instead climbing into the bed and settling beside her before pulling the covers up over them both. She rolled onto her side so she could look at him. "That was..." she began, only to stop and blush.
He smiled again, a soft chuckle shaking his shoulders. "Yes. It was." One hand reached for her and pulled her close, allowing her to settle her head on his shoulder. His arm curved around her shoulders to hold her against him. She was mildly surprised by the action but she said nothing. She rather liked being held by him. He said nothing else, simply closed his eyes. Dora did the same.
She was almost asleep when his voice, low and silky smooth, filled the void. "Good night, Pandora. Sleep well. Pleasant dreams."
They certainly were pleasant...
end chapter nine.
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