Severus stood a few paces before her. His eyes were on the ruined cauldron.
"Tell me," his voice shook, and tears formed in his eyes, "why do you wear flowers in your hair?"
He kept looking to his cauldron.
"I don't understand."
"How does such a sim...
A sleeved-hand raked fingers beneath her chin, pulling her to gaze back. Lust dilated his pupils, and Severus purred at her. "So frightened . . . like a little . . ." he paused. Drawing curves along her jawline, then shaped his lips slowly.Â
". . . doe."
Severus twisted Niamh's curls in a slow, calculated manner.
Her doe-like legs buckled beneath her. "Please," she whimpered.
That predatory gaze intensified.
"I intend to kill you, my doe."
Warm breath puffed against her ear, waiting. After a moment, Severus's voice came out husky. "If. I. Were. You . . ."
". . . run."
Niamh ducked under him, and pushed away his cape as she fled down the hall. Wiping her curls from her face, she rounded corners past the kitchen, charging up a flight of stairs. Craning her neck, she scanned for a black figure along the railing.
Her feet continue traveling up, up, and Severus was nowhere to be seen. Niamh gripped the railing. She stopped herself to take a breath. The chairs nestled neatly around the dining table. The black stone floor glimmered spotless. From where Niamh had brushed past during her flee, coats swung subtly on their hangers.
"Severus . . ?"
Niamh descended one step. Every dark corner caught her gaze, every trick of the light of any movement. She thought of the perfect phrase to coax him out.
It broke her heart to say it. But surely, this would stir a tempest within him.
"I was never your doe!"
Black fabric engulfed her chest from behind. Slithering hands inched up her abdomen, fingers roaming over her blouse-covered breasts. Pain and pleasure elicited a shriek.
Severus trapped Niamh's stomach against the railing with his chest behind her. He nestled his chin in the crook of her nook, inhaling her cascading curls.
Rất tiếc! Hình ảnh này không tuân theo hướng dẫn nội dung. Để tiếp tục đăng tải, vui lòng xóa hoặc tải lên một hình ảnh khác.
"Don't lie. To me." As her body twisted and writhed from his hold, Severus tightened his grip. "You are my doe. Mine. Say it." Even through her clothes, through her bra, he squeezed her nipple between his fingers, grinding himself against her back to choke her ribcage against the wooden railing.
"Say. It."
Niamh yelped, then tilted her face down at his hands stroking her breasts. She nipped his finger. Severus hissed in her ear. He bucked his hips into hers, enough to send her free. Niamh held back a moan at his seductive tactics, scrambling down the steps in stumbles.
Once she hit the landing, she headed for the kitchen. Black flashed in her peripheral. Along the way, she grabbed chairs, stools, anything, and tossed them behind.
Scraping wood, shifting furniture resounded behind her, but she did not look back. She rounded her sprint in the kitchen, turning to the only open door. Hurtling through it, she fled down the corridor, glancing to the wall's kitchen windows now. The black figure flew by, flicking his wand as doors slammed behind him and furniture rearranged through silent incantations.
