The Stag and The Harpy | James Potter

Please

{{so sorry it took me so long to write this!! Since you've been patient it's a long one! Anyway—MATURE WARNING!!! :)}}

Phoebe is barely through the door to her room before it's slammed shut behind her.

She lets out a squeak of surprise when James pins her against the wood still quaking from being closed aggressively. He smirks, looking so dangerous and sexy that it already has her thighs clenching together.

"You're playing a dangerous game, Griffin," He murmurs, leaning in. She thinks he's going to kiss her, but then he presses his lips to her cheek. He lingers for a moment, only pulling back slightly when the Veela replies,

"I haven't the faintest idea of what you're talking about, Potter."

He chuckles, the sound vibrating against her ear and causing her heart to beat rapidly against her chest. He slides his hands down her sides, giving her hips a purposeful squeeze before he grumbles,

"Flirting with Fenwick. Right in front of your fiancé, you minx."

Phoebe laughs, swatting at his chest before she tangles her fingers in his wild hair. She smirks slightly and whispers,

"Please. What do I need Fenwick for when I have you?"

James' face turns soft, his eyes locked onto hers. There's only truth in her grey gaze. And while he'd never admit it, sometimes he needed reassurance. Even though she had a ring on her finger, he was still scared. Rejection, loss, waking up without her by his side. He feared that more than anything. And here she was, easily reassuring him. He smiles a little and whispers,

"I love you. So much."

The Veela smiles and sighs, relishing the quietness of the room above the chaos below them. Just the two of them.

"You're okay."

James scowls playfully at her cheeky response, pinching her side as she leans back against the door and laughs. Her amusement and is short lived because he suddenly turning her around, her front now pressed to the cold wood. She gasps before she can stop it, eyes widening when she feels James grinding his erection into her from behind. Her eyes flutter shut and she scrambles for something to hold onto, moaning helplessly when he does it again.

"Got anything else to say, harpy?"

She bites down hard on her lip, her legs shaking slightly when one of his rough hands grabs her throat. She can't help but arch her back into him, silently pleading for more friction. James tuts quietly, mumbling, "Didn't think so."

She rolls her eyes at his smug tone, deciding it was her turn to be in charge. She emits a little of her charm, just enough to loosen his grip so she can turn around and face him. James blinks slowly, his brows furrowed as he tries to fight the daze. But then she's kissing him again, and every coherent thought flies out of the window. He loses his grasp on time, on space. The only thing that exists is the pleasure filled fog that clouds his mind and the sweet taste of firewhiskey on her soft lips.

She pulls back and smiles slightly at his lust filled face, feeling a twinge of surprise when he whispers, "Do...do that again."

"You like it?" She wonders curiously. She'd never used her charm on him this way, not certain she really knew how. But he seemed to be enjoying himself. So she smiles and kisses him again, letting out a hum of appreciation when his lips part and his tongue finds hers. She teases him with gentle caresses, still using her allure just enough to keep him dazed. James moans loudly, grounding himself by tangling his fingers in her hair. He's still coherent, still able to think. But her magic has every nerve ending in his body coming to life, pleasure filling him from even the gentlest touches.