the erised effect

dirty little secrets

In a flash, Harry had her on her back, the tie ripped from her mouth, staring up into Harry's eyes, dark with hunger. His lips were moist, slick with her arousal. His shirt was gone, the hard contours of his muscled chest and abs drawing her gaze immediately.

She sat up, desperate to touch him, to explore him, but She was quickly pushed back down by his strong hands.

He smiled; his fingers reaching out to caress her cheek. "Look at you," he whispered reverently. "You're so ...."

He was searching for the best way to turn his phrase.

"Beautiful, Pansy. The girl I could never get out of my head no matter how hard I tried... the girl whose taken over my senses." Harry stood up slowly, his eyes never wavering from hers as he unbuttoned his dress pants, and dropped them to the floor along with his boxer briefs. His thick, hard cock sprung free, and her eyes widened.

She stared at him hungrily, making him harder.

He gave it a few small strokes, watching her as she watched it. He then climbed back on top of her on the couch, making it creak slightly beneath his weight. He raised one of her legs up and around his waist slowly.

He then slid into her without any warning, his lips fusing to hers to stifle her cries. Her back bowed off the couch, her eyes cinching shut, and a shuddered breath passed from her lips and into his.

He held himself still, settled inside her to the hilt. "Too much?"

She rolled her head back and forth against the couch cushion, trying to control the way he felt stretched inside of her again.

"Breathe, Pansy. You're squeezing my cock so hard. You're so fucking tight I'm about to explode." His hand cupped her cheek, his thumb running along her lips. "Open your eyes, Parkinson, Look at me."

She did and she found him smiling down at her. A warm and affectionate smile. So unexpectedly new that she smiled back at him.

She was finally here; opening herself up to him, giving him her body, and if he was honest with himself.... he wanted to slowly taking the rest of her, too. With that thought, there was nowhere else he would rather have been right then. She stared back at him, and she let out the breath she'd been holding.

"You're mine" he told her through clenched teeth. She believed him. "Can I move?" "Yes," she whispered, and then he did.

He slid back and forth then, achingly slow at first, pulling nearly all the way out before sinking partly back in to her. He did this repeatedly, staring down at where their bodies were joined, alternating between that and her big, round, beautiful eyes.

It was maddening and delicious and so good and yet not enough at the same time. And only when he knew she was ready and growing impatient, when she was clawing at his skin, scraping her nails impatiently down his back, begging him for more, did he pick up his speed.

Her knees bent up further around his waist, as he pounded into her suddenly with a relentless rhythm.

"Yes... oh, fuck-" she almost cried suddenly. It was a moan, an expletive, an acknowledgement that this was it between them; and it was right.

His teeth sank into her breast, branding her to him, and she cried out, the sensation raising everything to a whole new level. His mouth found hers, his tongue took over, swallowing down her cries.

"I can't slow down," he rasped as he rocked into her, breathing hard, sweat coating his forehead as he fucked her so hard her teeth started to chatter. "I can't stop. It's too good. You feel too good."

"I'm close," she managed to choke out as her body rocked against his almost animalistic ally. "So close, Potter..."

"Say it." He demanded as he picked up the pace, pounding into her, skin slapping against skin. "I want you to say it for me." Both her legs were so far up his back they were practically over his shoulders now. She knew what he wanted to hear.