Betrayal of the Black

fifty-nine

"YOU CAN'T KEEP BLUSHING every time I look at you," reprimanded Theo softly.

"I can't help it!" she hissed, placing her hands to her heated cheeks.

He pulled her in by the hips, slotting her between his legs where he sat on the bed. "As much as I find your pink cheeks really adorable, if you keep this up, they're all going to know somethings up."

As he had been speaking, his thumb had been moving softly back and forth above the waistband of her shorts. She hit his hands away, stepping back. "How about you don't touch me, don't look at me, and don't speak to me. Therefore, I won't blush."

The stare he gave her was utterly dead, unamused, and called her an idiot. She leaned forward, brushing her fingers as softly against her eyelids as she pulled them shut. He grasped her hand, and then he was pressing a delicate kiss to the tips of each of her fingers.

Dumbfounded, she let him kiss her fingers. Pulling herself out of her stupor, she retracted all her fingers except her middle finger. His laugh wisped against her fingers, and then he was using her hand to pull himself up.

With her hand in his, he led her out of the room and down the corridor to the bathroom. She trailed behind him compliantly. They had just had a late breakfast after a long morning of training, and she'd mentioned wanting to wash her face and put some mascara before joining everyone else to destroy Horcruxes.

Obligingly, Theo was leading her there, remembering her words. Once in the bathroom, he let go of her to lean against the wall and watch her. She washed her face. He tilted his head to the side as he watched her pull out a bottle of mascara from a drawer, a smirk tugging on his lips.

Applying the mascara, she tried to ignore the feeling of his stare burning her skin. His fingers ghosted over her hip, and a blush heated her cheeks again.

"So cute," he murmured, moving to brush his fingers over the blush.

Just as his fingers touched her skin, she let the mascara clatter down into the sink, and her hand snapped up to grab his wrist and slam it down onto the counter. Desire alit his eyes, the smirk on his lips growing.

"I think I know what the cure for my blush would be," she said, thumb pressed against the pulse point on his wrist.

He hummed, eyes leisurely raking over her body. "And what would that be?"

"If we made it even."

His head jerked back, pulse suddenly thrumming hard beneath his skin. A flush overtook his skin, crawling up his neck and over his cheeks.

She let go of his wrist, but he kept his hand where she'd placed it. Her hands inched down, moving to his waist, then lower.

"You—You — If this is about last night, you don't have to—just because I—" He stumbled over his words as she began to unbuckle his belt. "I gave you pleasure because I wanted to, not because I expected you to return the favour. Not that I don't want you to. I think you can clearly see how much I want you to. But I just—I—Fuck."

"Sweet boy," she murmured, leaning in to kiss him softly as she pulled his belt from their loops. "So selfless. Always wanting to please me, and not get yourself off. I think that deserves a reward, don't you?"

His breathing turned ragged as she pushed him back against the counter. Her mouth met his again, and this time she ran her tongue over the seam of his lips only once before he let her in. As their tongues clashed, she dropped his belt to the floor and moved her hands further.

She pulled back barely an inch so she could glance down as she unbuttoned his pants. The sound of the zipper being pulled down sounded louder than it should in the silence, and her own breathing got deeper, excited at the prospect of what she was about to do.