The Love Story of Harriet Potter and Tom Riddle

Chapter 82 - Tom and Harriet

Thank you for reading! I don't own any of Harry Potter! Please let me know if you enjoy! Updates every Saturday!
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So many years had passed since her last cycle that Harriet had nearly forgotten the tortuous inconvenience of a heat.

As if her body meant to punish her for the gap it had willingly taken between cycles, she never made it out of bed that particular morning, having kissed Tom goodbye half-asleep an hour before her eyes finally popped open.

Her chest heaved for breath as she swallowed against the overwhelming nausea that gripped her throat.

In a desperate gasp, she threw the soft, silky covers of her nest aside and let the morning chill do its best to dry the beads of sweat that rose from her pores, head to toe.

She closed her eyes and bit her lip against the cramps that coursed through her abdomen, low and deep, like spiteful knives, as blinding arousal exploded between her legs in a desperate, needy demand.

Harriet whimpered to herself as her thoughts focused on Tom while she writhed in her nest, head thrown back, spine arched, knees parted.

Normally not one to interrupt her husband's day, Harriet couldn't bear to lay there alone, unattended, and waiting until Tom ventured home to check on her during his lunch hour.

As Harriet's teeth dug into her bottom lip, she thought of him and closed her eyes.

Her husband was many things, among which, a talented wizard and skilled Legilimens.

Harriet didn't bother trying to sit up and claw her way towards her wand.

There was no need.

The mating bond she shared with Tom would reveal the situation to him soon enough.

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Tom's long, dark lashes fluttered against his sculpted cheek while he stared down at the documents on his desk.

No matter how hard he squinted at the words on the page, they all seemed to jumble together as an inexplicable rage crawled up his spine and burrowed into his heart.

Although the room remained cool, a fiery urgency heated him from the inside out, until his slender, tapered fingers tugged at his uncomfortably tight collar.

Unable to focus on his work, Tom closed his eyes and thought of his darling mate as a sudden image of her invaded his mind.

A breath escaped his lips as their mating bond allowed him to see what Harriet desperately needed him to realize.

As plainly as if she were there on his desk, Tom saw his wife lying in her bed, with her eyes closed and hands moving over her heated body.

The soft whisper that escaped Harriet's lips made him groan as he watched her fingers slide over her abdomen, down, down, down, until they danced over the hem of her nightgown and slipped beneath the seam of her panties.

His vision ended just before the sweetest part.

As he found himself flung back into his office, Tom's teeth gnashed together as a low growl escaped his soul.

A hideous snarl marred his angled features as he contemplated the frustration of his situation.

Tom slipped his wand out of his pocket and into his hand a second later.

Without bothering to leave directions for his aides, he apparated away, desperate to make it to Harriet.

He could give directions once he had settled his omega in her nest, sometime later that night, after their first round together.