Into Your Gravity ( Luna Lovegood & Tom Riddle )

Chapter twenty-nine: Submission

Could I kiss you and make you a queen
Or something in between?
Do you want to see it?
The place where I was free?
'Cause in my mind I need it
But you're nowhere near to me.
-Augustana, "Twenty Years"
•

Luna made a vague attempt to speak after he'd spun her around to finally face him, but he quickly interrupted her. "Don't be a blabbermouth," he hissed. She remembered saying the same thing, though she couldn't recall sounding so bitter when she'd done so. She guessed he was throwing the words back in her face, but she couldn't bring herself to feel indignant or even really think critically about it when he used her hair to pull her head back so he could get better access to her neck.

Her hands weaved into his hair. In response, he tugged harder on hers. It hurt. She ran her fingers down his neck, trying to provoke him to do it again. He did, all the while attacking her neck and collarbone with a flurry of kisses and teeth.

She felt as if she were quickly spiraling out of control, and yet he remained so calm. She tried to pull his face towards hers to kiss him properly, but he reacted fiercely, grasping her wrists suddenly, growling. "You will not," he commanded. He swung her around and backed her up slowly, step by step, until her knees hit the edge of the bed and she was forced to sit.

He took this time to undress her completely, then stood back and seemed to inspect her. Luna was shivering and sweating at the same time, feeling both fuzzy and sharp. Red eyes crawled over her, and then in the next moment, Luna found herself flat on her back with Tom above her. He hadn't bothered to undress, and they were sprawled across the bed rather than lying on it properly. And he wasn't being gentle, but Luna felt everything so acutely, felt pleasure and pain intermingling, felt what he felt, felt him. It was overwhelming. He was using her, using her body, but really she knew she was using him as well. She nuzzled her nose into his neck, and as she let him take her, she was so busy inhaling his scent, reveling in him, breathing him in, that she didn't notice his face buried in her hair as he did the exact same.

                                  •

Luna woke alone, in a cold, empty bed. It took her a moment to remember that he had told her to sleep and then had left, without looking at her. She sat up, and her head spun once again. She put a hand to her forehead to steady herself.

"There's food in here, if you happened to have changed your mind about avoiding any form of nutrition," came Tom's voice from the other room.

She briefly wondered how he had known she was awake, then attributed it to the fact that the lines between him and her had become blurred during the night. She then found that she actually was hungry for the first time in days, voraciously so. Pushing the sheets back and swinging her feet to the floor, she noticed a silk robe lying at the foot of the bed. She grabbed it and put it on, stifling a smile about the domesticity of the Dark Lord offering her breakfast. No, she corrected herself, there is nothing domestic about this. She cinched the tie around her waist and padded out of the bedroom.

Tom was seated in his armchair, staring at an empty grate. Nagini had reappeared and wound herself around him and the chair, resting her head on his arm, which he did not seem to mind. He had his chin propped on one fist, and he appeared lost in thought. He didn't acknowledge Luna when she entered. Nagini lifted her head for a moment to see who had come in, then, upon deciding Luna was either not a threat or simply uninteresting, laid her head back down.

Luna made her way over to the table and immediately sat down to eat. She ate ravenously, finding that her plate refilled itself whenever she'd emptied it. As she ate, she wondered if she could get him to tell her what had happened. She wasn't sure what sort of mood he was in – if he was more like last night or more like the Dark Lord. His moods changed so rapidly and violently, and he was nearly perfect at keeping them hidden until it was too late. He was merely ignoring her at the moment, which was not a helpful sign either way.