RP: Baby it's cold outside
Date: December 24, 2005
Characters: Rita Skeeter, Kingsley Shacklebolt
Location: Kingsley's house
Status: Private
Summary: Keeping warm on a frosty morning.
Completion: Complete
( I ought to say no, no, no, sir - Mind if I move a little closer? )
Characters: Rita Skeeter, Kingsley Shacklebolt
Location: Kingsley's house
Status: Private
Summary: Keeping warm on a frosty morning.
Completion: Complete
( I ought to say no, no, no, sir - Mind if I move a little closer? )
"Mmm, he did," she murmured, then laughed. "Not that I told him the hen night was for Gilderoy. A friend's getting married, I said. Sneaky of me, really."
She bit her lip, arching her hips up and obeying his command, growling in her throat. Merlin, it was nice to see him by morning light, to know they had all day for this if they wanted it. No time limit dictated by dawn. She didn't reply to his comment - couldn't, right now. Couldn't speak and work her hips up against him and fist his cock at the same time. Words would have to wait.
And then the fingers were gone, and she was on top of him, hands against his chest and cock against her thigh. The blankets slithered down over her shoulders and pooled around her waist, but her body was so pleasantly warm in other ways now that not even the sudden shock of cool air chilled her.
"Mmm," she purred, lowering herself down until she felt his cock against her cunt, then shifting so he dragged along her, but not taking him inside. Not yet.
Her wand was on the nightstand beside his. She held out her hand and summoned it, pleased when it landed in her palm, then pulled a strand of hair from her head. With a flick, it turned into a long, red silk scarf.
"It's been a while since I wrote the note, but I remember liking the wording. Where is it? Can I summon it?"
She shifted her hips against him again, knowing she was torturing both of them with this, but that was the point, wasn't it? There were enough things in that note that they wouldn't be out of scenarios by Christmas. And even if they were, she was sure she could think of more.
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When she asked about the letter, he shook his head. He reached over for his wand, his long arm finding it and dismantling the ward on the nightstand, "It's in the drawer," perfectly preserved, all alone, please don't mock me for it. She shifted against him spreading her moisture along his hard flesh.
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When he unwarded the drawer, she summoned the note from inside.
The paper was smooth, like it had been touched many times, and Rita couldn't help but smile. So he'd not read it, but he'd touched it and stroked it often enough that it was fragile and flimsy?
She didn't mention it. Instead, she read over it to remind herself what she'd written. Translated the part she wanted to read into English in her head - easy enough, given she'd written the note in the first place and understood the intended meaning.
Rita trailed the scarf over his throat. She read slowly.
"There will be a silk scarf, but this time your hands won’t be bound. This time it won’t be that easy. This time you’ll submit, you won’t fight when I twist it around your neck, even though you know that you can. You’ll know that you can even as I take one end in either hand and sink down on you, pulling it tight as you fill me.
"I’ll ride you slowly, up and down, and I’ll let you watch, but hurry me and I’ll tighten the cords and take the breath from your throat. We’ll see if you’re game enough to go faster."
She looped the scarf over the back of his head, sliding it against his neck, but she wouldn't wrap it around until he consented. Laid her hand on his chest.
"How much do you trust me?"
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"So you want to wrap it? Not choke? Not much anyway?" Kingsley wasn't sure he understood what she wanted.
How much do you trust me?
Fuck. That was the question wasn't it.
How much did he trust her? A year ago, he'd have said not any farther than she could throw him. Six months ago, he might have said a little but he knew he'd live to regret it. Now... now, he wasn't sure exactly. This was all new. "Honestly, doll, I'm pretty sure you won't kill me but do you have any bloody idea what you're about if we try this?" His eyes searched her face. The way she'd tied him up while he slept that time had made him angry, sure, but it had been as hot as hell being at her mercy like that.
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Rita couldn't help but smile wickedly. "Well, that depends on you, and whether or not you hurry me. I want you helpless, at my whim, and I want you to want to be." The last part came out in a breathy whisper and her cunt throbbed with the very idea.
She nearly laughed when he asked the next question, because she was glad he was concerned but this was probably a conversation they should be having some time when they weren't both randy as hell and ready to go, but this was how it was happening so so be it.
"I've read enough to know what not to do, and how to know if anything goes wrong." She did laugh. "It's not really something one can practise on a non-living entity."
She cast a cushioning charm on the scarf so it wouldn't dig into his skin, then laid her wand aside but within reach.
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Bloody hell.
She was trying to kill him. Not by choking the life out of him but by raising up all those little parts of him he hated to acknowledge. Didn't want to acknowledge. That had always been why Rita was his weakness.
She knew.
Knew him in ways no one else did. The good and the bad. The hard and the soft. The dominant... and apparently the submissive. The things he left in dreams. Things he thought best left there between sleeping and waking. Things he didn't like to consider about himself. Things like why this woman could twist him around her finger and why he would allow it to happen. Like why he wanted it, why he fought it, and why he just might give in.
He chuckled along side her and let go the pun, "No, I suppose that would be dead out."
She cast a cushioning charm on her weapon of choice and looked him in the eye. "All right then. As long as you stay when your through with me. I might..." need you. Kingsley took a deep breath, perhaps his last for a long time. "I might need you here." There, he said it. It hadn't been so hard. At least not with this Rita, the one that stayed until morning. "Might need you not to mock me either," please, "tease all you want, but not... that." Not when I'm about to make myself all vulnerable for you.
Must be mad. No other logical explanation for the power over him he was about to place in her lacquered fingered hands. But he couldn't resist finding out. Finding out what he wasn't precisely sure. He only knew he'd learn something. And Kingsley Shacklebolt was a Ravenclaw after all. No good reason to pass up a learning experience.
Kingsley melted back into the bed and grasped the headboard. Seemed as good a position as any to start. "I'm yours, baby."
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"I'm not going anywhere," she told him. "We can do this all day if you want to." It stung a little when he asked her not to mock him, but she supposed she deserved it. There'd been many times when she had. "I won't."
Gods, the look his eyes. It set her on fire with exactly the right kind of thrill. Power and control. It had always been this way with them. He'd always needed her to break him before he let go, only it had taken breaking into his house and tying him up while he was asleep to really realise it was about power, and not just 'how they were'. When they acknowledged it, threw it out in the open, it was even more beautiful, and having him give the power to her was so much hotter than breaking him to get it.
Maybe it left them both whole, too.
When she looped the scarf over his head and pulled it snug about the base of his throat, the movement was gentle, letting one end on rest on his chest a moment, eyeing the position of his hands. No, that wouldn't do. That was too easy.
"Hands on my hips," she demanded. She waited for him to obey, then added: "If you need me to stop at all, just let go."
She reached down between them and took hold of his cock, positioning him at her entrance, then picking up the other end of the scarf as she sank back onto him.
Power, absolute. His life in her hands, and he wanted it.
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Kingsley wasn't so sure he would last ten minutes once she started but he'd try. He'd try for himself. He'd do it for her.
He licked his lips as the scarf came around his neck. He felt his cock throb in response. He never took his eyes from her though. He wanted to watch her as she took him. Wanted to see. So fucking hot. He loved her in stockings and half dressed but he worshiped her nude like this with nothing between them. Nothing physical anyway.
Rita commanded him to put his hands on her hips. He did it knowing it would be that much harder to keep from thrusting or pushing her down on him with his hands there. Still the challenge of it was appealing in its own way. He didn't want this too easy.
"Wanna just let go," he smiled wickedly knowing she'd understand, "but I'll hang on to you."
She sank onto him and his fingers flexed against her hips as he willed himself not to thrust, not to push, just to... be. He looked into her eyes as she held the scarf draped around his neck. "No middle ground Rita. Not with us. All or nothing, sweetheart." He tilted his head back a fraction to give her a good view of his neck and his eyes. A final acknowledgement of her power over him, "Take it all, baby. I'm yours."
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