King of Swords [ Regulus Black ]

Chapter 25

The next morning I awaken from a pleasant dream and find myself thrust into another. My back arches, uncontrollable whimpers parting from my lips as Regulus finishes his task from the night before.
Once it is done, he goes again and again until my legs are deadened from clenching the muscles.

"You're not going to Whitehall," he whispers before kissing me with ferocity.
Well, this is certainly one way to keep me in the house.

"Or else?," I ask, kissing him back.

"I mean it," he growls, "perhaps I should make you so sore that you can't get out of bed."

It is certainly a welcoming prospect. I offer him a insolent smirk, to which he grabs at my wrists and pins them above my head.

"Fine," he mutters, "I guess I will have to."

I fight back the urge to tell him I have never done this. It is not the only secret I keep from him, but it feels like an important one. He is mostly gentle, save for the way his teeth trail over my throat and his hands force my thighs apart.
The following movements are initially painful, but once I relax, it is all rapture and lust.

Regulus seems to realize my secret as I claw at his back. I can feel every inch of his skin, the heat of his torso and the chill of his limbs. He stares at me with doting eyes.

"It's ok," I tell him. It is more than ok.

With this confirmation he continues, slow and thoughtful. There is a masochistic part of me that wants it to hurt, for him to take my body and mind without a second thought. When he momentarily stiffens, I press into him.

"Fuck," he declares followed by a string of words that sound like a sacrilegious mix of prayer and curses. I hang onto his every murmur as if they are a parable I must memorize.

I can't help the laugh that escapes my throat as he rolls off of me. I now understand why people put so much attention on this.
Regulus smiles himself, planting kisses down my arms.

"I just want to do that, every day, for the rest of my life," I say, "is it always like this?"

"It is almost never like this, little bird," Regulus responds.

"Let's go again," I whisper.
I am about to pull him back into me when his arm stiffens. In the soft flesh a black image starts to form, a serpent and skull.

"As much as I admire your appetite, I have to go," he rescinds, "I will find you this evening."

I nod, hoping he will keep his word and not venture to Whitehall. I never actually confirmed that I would not go myself, but it still feels like a lie.
With a final kiss to my forehead, he is gone and I prepare to leave as well.

Once dressed and ready I venture upstairs to find the rotary phone on the wall ringing. I assume it is Haro, calling to task me with a last minute scheme. Instead, the breaths that fall on the other end belong to Riverina.

"Callan?" She asks, low and hurried.

"What's going on?" I respond. Her tone is unusually startled for a woman so adept at keeping composure.

"Oh, Nothing," she says and I can hear her smile breaking on the other end, "I just wanted to make sure you were ok. I had this awful dream."

"Yeah I'm fine," I respond, twirling the cord around my fingers. "It's just nerves. Haro will win today, I know it."

There is a pause on the other end and then a break of emotion, "have I ever told you how proud of you I am? I fear I don't say it enough to either of my children."