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Darkest Desires	By : Lupinswolfie Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Remus/Hermione Views: 24277 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
- 6
AN: Slight non con here, but she really does want it! :D And don't forget to review!!! I just realized that I had all annon. reviews blocked--sorry about that!

Finally, a bit of
solace. The wolf had been angry for far too long now and it didn’t
help that everywhere Remus went, Hermione was already there. The
kitchen, the library, even the damn loo; he had to meet her coming or
going all day long and it was serving to both anger and confuse him.
Even keeping Tonks around as much as possible wasn’t helping.
If anything, it was making things worse, making it all the more
obvious to him that he was a failure as a husband and his wife would
rather be anywhere than around him.

Why
couldn’t Hermione just make this easy and stay away from him?
Why is it that when he needed to ignore her, to have her not be
around, she was everywhere? He couldn’t remember it being like
that before, but then again, he didn’t have a reason to try and
avoid her. Now, it was as though she were taunting him with her
presence. Last night had been the easiest transformation of his
life. He had no scars, no pain, no reminders at all that it was even
the full moon. What he did have, however, were the vivid memories of
her tight, little body pressed up against his as she slept. He felt
like he was on the edge, hanging on for his life, for his sanity, and
she was gently pushing him in a direction he wanted to go, but wasn’t
allowed.

‘Perhaps
that should tell you something.’

Remus
growled in response to the wolf, hating himself for the anger he was
starting to feel towards Hermione. What could he do? The wolf hated
her and it wouldn’t be long before something terrible happened,
before he became the cause of her fate. He’d never be able to
live with himself if he hurt her. He growled again, frustration and
self-loathing becoming like a covering for him as he settled into the
darkness. And damn it all, now he could smell her!

“Remus,
are you alright?”

“I’m
fine,” he snarled, glancing up briefly and understanding why
her scent was suddenly so overwhelming. “Just go away,
Hermione.” Of course it was her, wearing that skirt that never
failed to make men look three or four times in her direction and a
shirt that wasn‘t completely buttoned at the top, showing more
than just a hint of cleavage. Ten minutes of solitude was all he had
asked for, all he had wanted, but he couldn’t even have that.

Looking up
from the table again, he was a bit surprised to see her standing
right over him.

She
assessed his features, a concerned look crossing her face when she
gently put her hand to his forehead. “You’re not
feverish, but you don’t look well. Is there anything I can do,
anything I can get for you?”

Remus
stood suddenly, his chair crashing back against the floor as the
startled witch before him took a quick step backward as she looked at
his eyes in confusion.

“There
is nothing you can do, Hermione,” he ground out. “How
many more ways can I say this so that it is abundantly clear? I just
need to be left alone!”

She
snorted softly before locking her eyes with his. “Obviously,”
she spat angrily, wondering why everything with them kept becoming an
argument.

‘She
looks delicious when she’s angry, wouldn’t you agree?
Her face all flushed, her young tits heaving against her tight shirt.
And that skirt, could it get any shorter?’

Before he
realized it, Remus glanced down at her breasts, then quickly looked
away.

‘Shut
up, wolf!’ The wolf, however, chuckled, happily taunting him.

“Remus,
you’re bleeding,” Hermione said with surprise, quickly
walking over to him and taking his arm in her warm hands. “How
did this happen?”

“I
have no idea,” he answered between gritted teeth. Did the
witch just not get the meaning of the word ‘alone’?

Her hand
feathered up his arm to examine the shallow cut. “It’s
not deep,” she said, pushing him towards another chair. “Sit
down and I’ll heal it for you.”

The smile
she gave him was sweet and innocent, but he knew a lie when he saw
one. She was playing games with him, had been for some time. Why
else would she stay around him when he told her to leave. When the
wolf tried to take over, everyone else left him alone, so why not
her?! His gaze landed on the chocolate, the chocolate she gave him
before and after every full moon to help ease his body. Chocolate
which led to their first, and only, kiss. The full moon which had
led to him waking up naked in her bed this morning.

‘She
knows what you like, what you need, but I think you’d rather
lick that chocolate off her delectable, tight body. Can’t you
see it? She’s naked on the bed that belongs to your wife, you
drizzle the melted chocolate all over her tits and down her stomach.
Then slowly, savoring this moment you’ll never have, you lean
your head down to her glorious body and lick her clean. Do you think
that’s what she thinks of each time she gives you that
particular gift?’

So, that
was the game she was playing. She wanted to play dirty with a
married man and thought he would be willing to take her up on the
offer! He glared at her and the beautiful smile on her face
faltered, even as he felt his pants tighten painfully.

To say
Hermione was surprised with Remus’ current behavior would be a
serious understatement. She had seen him come in here alone and was
concerned about his obvious unhappiness. Following him, she noticed
the way he fought with the wolf, trying to overcome whatever issues
they were having. Granted, she had a feeling she knew what they were
arguing about, but he didn’t need to know that. Moony wanted
her to seduce Remus away from Tonks, but she had no idea where to
even begin, no matter how much she was coming to understand that it
was needed for his own survival.

“I
only wanted…” she started meekly, slowly backing away
from him.

The
knowledge that he upset her only served to anger him further. “What,
Hermione?” His voice was a low roar as he jerked her body flush
against his. Ignoring her squeak of surprise, he bent his head down
closer to hers and snarled, “You think I haven’t noticed?
You think I haven’t seen the way you follow me around like a
lost dog lately? You’re acting like a whore, Hermione, and
it’s very unbecoming of you. I realize I kissed you, but it
was a mistake, and you need to get over whatever it is you think
you’re feeling. I’m married and I intend to stay that
way.”

He wanted
to push her away, wanted to make her hate him so much that she never
came around him again…lost souls be damned, he had his own to
worry about.

‘That’s
it, make her cry. Show her what kind of man you really are. She’s
been throwing herself at you like a common whore for far too long
now. Don’t you think it’s about time you gave her what
she wants? She belongs to you, you belong in her. Do it, human!
Take her! Give her what she thinks she wants and show her what
fucking a werewolf is really about.’

The wolf
was pushing through, he could feel it. He could feel his anger,
coupled with the lust he felt every time she came near, and he knew
he had to make her hate him. With a wolfish grin, he also realized
the wolf was right; threaten to give her what she thinks she wants
and she’ll go the hell away. If he couldn’t move out
because of his wife’s refusal, he could damn sure drive his new
obsession away.

He backed
her into the table and not once did she object to his closeness, only
confirming what he had already realized…she wanted him.

“What
is it you want, Hermione?” he snarled, anger overtaking him
completely as the witch refused to be scared and back down. She
didn’t answer, infuriating him even more. “I asked you
to stay away from me and you refuse to listen. Now, you will get
what’s coming to you.” His free hand wound through her
hair and he jerked her head back sharply, making her whimper in pain.

“Remus,
please,” she pleaded, “this isn’t the way it’s
supposed to be.”

His
mirthless laugh met her ears only seconds before he ripped her shirt
open and grabbed her breast. Slowly, he lowered his head to her
neck, biting it roughly as she squeaked in weak protest. “It
isn’t supposed to be at all, Hermione, but you can’t
leave things alone. You always have to stick your nose in where it
doesn’t belong. I was happy with my wife until you ruined it,
until you made me question things that never should have been
questioned.”

Even
though he was hurting her, anger soared through her body and out her
mouth. “That’s bullshit and you know it,” she
spat, head cocked to the side wantonly as his mouth ravaged her neck
and shoulder---stopping briefly to unconsciously lick her scar that
the torn shirt revealed. “You’ve not been happy with
your wife since you married her. What’s wrong,” she
taunted, unsure exactly why she was pushing him, “not man
enough for her?”

‘That
was rather low of the bitch,’ the wolf chuckled, ‘even I
wouldn’t go there and I’m not particularly fond of you as
of late. Will you seriously take that from her, a wanton little slut
questioning your manhood?’

Remus
growled then, rage and lust as he’d never known filtering
through him and he finished ripping her shirt down the middle,
sending buttons flying across the room and ignoring her sharp intake
of breath.

“You
want this, Hermione? I’m going to show you just how much of a
man I can be!”

Not giving
her time to answer, his hand grabbed her naked breast once more,
before lowering to her hips and the warmth between her legs.
Suddenly his fingers were cupping her wet knickers under her skirt
and he laughed coldly. “This turns you on? You’re such
a sick little whore.”

“You’re
a bastard,” she snarled in reply, ashamed that she wanted him
even after the things he had said to her. How could the man be so
much like a beast, but the beast be so much better than the man?

Remus
grabbed her hips and harshly spun her around, forcing her to bend
over the table as he quickly lifted her skirt and pushed the soaked
lace roughly down her thighs. “A bastard who is going to fuck
you now,” he growled. “You’ve been panting after
me like a bitch in heat all week and now I’m going to show you
what it’s really like to have my cock slamming inside of you!”

Hermione
whimpered slightly, realizing that he was really going through with
it and knowing that she was powerless to stop him, even if she found
the will to try.

“Fuck
you, Remus,” she sobbed, but then he was gone.

Her
shoulders sagged in relief and hurt, but she realized he was still
there when his hands suddenly grabbed her hips and his cock rammed
deep within her wet passage. She gave a cry of pain and pleasure,
then heard him groan from behind her.

“Gods,
witch,” he moaned, thrusting brutally in and out of her body.
“Gonna fuck you like the whore that you are,” he snarled.

And he
did. His hands gripped her hips so hard she knew he’d leave
bruises, but the heat and tension building within her was so great,
she started meeting him thrust for thrust even against her own will.
He grabbed a handful of her hair, yanking back hard and exposing her
neck. His wet tongue flicked up her slightly bare back to her neck,
and then down to her scar where he licked and nipped at her mark,
without realizing the significance of what he was doing.

His cock
pistoned inside of her with reckless abandon and within seconds, he
felt her body convulsing around him. Shocked that she was actually
getting off, he thrust harder inside her dripping core, desperately
trying to make her hate him. As she tightened around him, however,
he knew he’d never last. She was so wet, so tight and hot, and
he’d never felt anything like this before in his life. His
skin tingled and burned, his heart beat so fast he thought it would
explode, and his mind reeled from the sensations. He knew in that
moment that the wolf was right…this is where he truly
belonged. The realization came too late, however, because after
today, she’d never speak to him again. His hips surged forward
twice more and he found himself buried deep within her, spilling his
seed inside a woman he was forbidden to have, forbidden to love.

They had
no sooner righted their clothing than the floor began to shake,
throwing them both off balance. The pictures on the wall began
rattling, falling to the ground with a loud simultaneous crash amid
various screams and curses from the occupants. The candles
surrounding the room all extinguished, throwing the room into a
darkness that made Hermione screech in terror.

Remus
immediately grabbed her arm and pulled her to him, sheltering her
with his body as he moved them to the doorway. The ground continued
to shake and the cabinets rattled with the ominous sounds of dishes
breaking under the stress of what could only be defined as an
earthquake. He pulled her into his arms and pushed her back against
the door frame, completely shielding her body with his own as his
arms came up to cover her head as well. Her hands were fisted into
his shirt, pulling him closer and holding on to him as if their very
lives depended on their closeness to one another as her tears dried
forgotten upon her cheeks. She was so scared, the pain that flashed
across her finger went completely unnoticed.

As
suddenly as it started, the shaking ceased and the kitchen came to a
still once more. The candles flickered and relit, but the two
remained locked together for several more moments. Hermione stood in
the safe cocoon of his arms, willing her body to stop shuddering and
her breath to return to normal. Concentrating on his slowing heart
rate beneath her hands, Hermione waited until hers resumed the same
pace before easing back slightly.

Remus felt
her move away so when his breath calmed and he was sure it was safe
to release her, he reluctantly did so. Taking a deep, guilty breath,
he placed his fingers under her chin and made her look up at him.

She saw
his eyes--guilt, fear, and lingering shock and lust--and her heart
broke for him. Her heart broke for the situation both she and the
wolf had put him in. This sweet, gentle man deserved so much more
than the life he had been dealt, and she was bound and determined he
should have it…even if she was rather angry at him.

“Gods,
Hermione, I…I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice
breaking with emotion. “I don’t know what’s come
over me lately.” He ran his hands through his hair, a habit
quickly becoming very endearing to her, as he walked around the
disaster that used to be their kitchen, leaving her rooted to the
spot. “Lately, I feel like I’m going crazy and losing
control of myself. I know this sounds absurd and I don’t
deserve the chance to explain myself,” he continued, refusing
to meet her eyes as he surveyed the damage, “I have periods of
time where I can’t remember anything and…” he
broke off suddenly, smelling the air around him for the first time.
“And you’ve had sex in this kitchen recently.”

His eyes
held both accusation and humor before guilt took over again. Walking
closer to her, he tried taking her hand only to have her jerk away
from him as if burned.

“I’m
going to check on the others,” she said heatedly.

“Hermione,
please,” he pleaded, “I’m so sorry, but I can’t
explain what I don’t understand.” Of course she had the
right to be angry, and he knew she would want to leave once he made
himself sound like a fool in front of her the way he did Tonks, but
he wasn’t sure why, when she finally hated him the way he
wanted, he felt as though his world were ending.

Taking a
deep breath and trying desperately to see things from his point of
view, while also trying to forgive him, she lifted her eyes to his.
“Tell me,” she said quietly, pointing towards the table
and gesturing for him to take a seat. His nervous glance at the
damnable object was not lost on her, but he slowly pulled out a chair
and sat down.

“You
won’t understand. You’ll…I don’t know,
laugh at me,” he said, remembering his own wife’s
reaction.

Hermione
gently placed her hand on top of his own for support. “I’m
not her, Remus. Tell me.”

He looked
down at her hand covering his and then up to the understanding look
on her face. Holding his breath in anticipation of her reaction, he
softly said, “It’s the wolf.”

“Go
on,” she encouraged and he found no trace of condemnation in
her features.

“Gods,
this is going to sound insane.” He looked at her hand again.
“He’s been…lately he’s been talking to me.”

“What
does he say?” she asked cautiously.

He blinked
in surprise at her response before continuing. “Well,”
he started slowly, unsure exactly how to proceed, “at first I
thought he hated you, actually, but now I don’t know what he
wants. It’s no excuse though, I never should have touched you
and never like that.”

“Then
why did you?” she asked with slight heat back in her voice.

He sighed
deeply. “I wanted to make you hate me, hate me so much that he
couldn’t hurt you if I ever lose control.”

“Have
you talked to him about this?”

“How
did you…”

“Talk
to him,” she interrupted, “go on.”

‘Why
am I talking to you? Can I even talk to you without an argument?’

‘Well,
hello human. Finally starting to see reason?’

‘So,
I can talk to you just as easily as you do me.’ It wasn’t
a question, Remus had finally realized that he could talk to the
beast within first, instead of waiting on him to show himself before
any discussion began.

‘You
always could. You just needed to do it. Enjoy our witch?’

‘Not
like that! Never like that. Why did you make me lose control? I
practically raped her!’

‘Someone
had to make you see, make you do what your moral values would not
allow.’

‘This
was to hurt me as well as her?’

‘For
an intelligent man, you really can be quite daft.’

‘Meaning?’

‘Meaning
that I have never wanted to hurt her.’

‘But
the growls and anger when she came near, I wasn’t imagining
that.’

‘No,
but you weren’t paying attention to whom they were directed
either. You led yourself to believe that because it was easier than
accepting the truth.’

‘Which
is?’

‘She
belongs to us, human, and you and I belong to her. I’ve told
her as much and she understands. The very ground shook from your
bonding.’

‘You’ve
talked to her?!’

‘More
than talk, my friend. Tonight was not the first night that your cock
has been inside of our witch.’

‘Excuse
me?’

‘Several
times actually. You have no idea what wonders she is capable of.’

And then
he understood. The way he could smell her on him, the smell of sex
around him when he didn’t remember the event, the lapses in
memory…it all made perfect sense to him now.

“Go
to hell,” he said, barely restraining his anger as he stood up
and made his way to the door, “both of you!”

Hermione
sat in silence for a long while, idly playing with the napkin that
lay haphazard on the table. She had watched Remus’ face as he
talked to the wolf; a myriad of expressions had flown across his
features until it seemed like shock and anger remained. She had
jumped back, startled when he quickly stood up and told her to go to
hell, but understood his reaction nonetheless. What she didn’t
know, however, was if this situation was one that could be repaired.

Deciding
to work on what she could, she stood up and raised her wand to the
mess. The portraits jumped back on the wall, the dishes glued
themselves back together and lay neatly stacked, the table righted
its’ belongings, and the dust and debris disappeared.

~ ~ ~***~
~ ~

Remus
stormed from the kitchen and was mildly shocked that the house showed
no visible signs of damage. Deciding to head to the library and
check on their work, he stopped short at the door when he saw his
wife nosing through their most recent developments. Unbeknownst to
him, however, she had been silently fuming for hours. Finding
another woman’s knickers in your husbands pocket will do that
to a woman,

“Dora,
what are you doing?” he asked coldly, still angry at Hermione,
but more upset about his wife’s betrayal of something so
private it had been deemed ‘A Matter of Ministry Security’.

She
jumped, startled at the sound of his voice and tried to look innocent
as she shoved papers back around on the table. “Remus, what
are you doing here?” she squeaked.

He looked
at her accusingly, “I have a meeting at the Ministry tomorrow
and I need to get things ready. Now, what are you doing?”

She walked
over to him, her mouth turned up in a suggestive manner that always
put him in the mood; until tonight that is. “Come on, baby,
let’s go to our room and I’ll help you relax,” she
purred as her fingers walked up his arm.

The wolf
inside growled and this time, Remus understood. “Nice try,
Dora, but I still want to know what you’re doing in here.”

Huffing,
she turned back to the room and said sarcastically, “Look
around, Remus, this is a library. It doesn’t have your name,
or Hermione’s,” she spat, “written on it.”

“No,
it doesn’t, but the box you took those papers from was locked.
If you tell anyone what you found, Dora…”

“You’ll
what? Come on, Remus, be honest with yourself.” By this time,
she was facing him directly and her eyes flashed with anger, while
sadness and acceptance filled his. “You make empty threats
because you’re too nice to do anything. Too kind and
gentle.”

“I’m
the same as I was when we married, Dora, nothing has changed,”
he sighed.

“Exactly!
Things were supposed to change when we married. I told you I’d
be there for you and I’ve tried, but you never let me in. You
never show me what you show her!”

“What?!”
Remus roared, aided quickly by the wolf within. “I have tried
talking to you and you laughed, or do you not remember?”

“What
about Hermione?” she spat the name like a disease.

“What
about her?” he retorted.

“Why
were you fine with her last night, but tried to attack me? Your
wife, Remus!” she shouted.

“This
is about jealousy?” he questioned and watched as she bristled.

“No
matter what I think or how I feel about you, Remus, you are still my
husband…mine! And I will not share you with someone else--any
of you.”

‘Does
that put your wife into perspective enough for you? Our witch was
willing to listen to you with an open mind and without judgment, yet
your own wife tells you she no longer wants you.’

In fact,
her comment should have infuriated him, shamed him, or made him feel
something. Instead, all he could do was smile sadly down at her as he
listened to the wolf, really listened this time. “Let me get
this straight,” he responded coolly, “you don’t
want me, but you don’t want anyone else to have me either,
right? And you’re angry with me over something in which
I have absolutely no control? I’m a werewolf, remember, and
some things are beyond my control.”

Tonks
opened her mouth to speak, then quickly shut it again. “I
suppose you’re right,” she said softly after a few
minutes of his accusatory look. With a shrug of her shoulders, she
left the library to get ready for her night on duty. Not allowing
her husband to see the glint in her eye or the sneer on her face.

Remus
walked through the cluttered library, thinking somewhere in the back
of his mind that their intense research had left quite a mess that
would need to be cleaned after their meeting the next day. He began
straightening books and pieces of parchment while he thought of the
meeting and what lay in store for them when they actually faced the
veil. Granted, Hermione would have to do the actual spell, since
being a lycanthrope prevented such things from him, but he would be
there with her in case she needed him, if she would allow him
anywhere near her after what had just happened.

He
couldn’t understand why the wolf was so insistent on this
relationship. Perhaps selfishness was his only driving force, or
perhaps there was more to things than he ever realized. When he
fixed all their files and such for the next day, he quickly locked
them back in the box before someone else would happen along to see.
As he moved the box from the table, he eyes fell on an ancient book
marked to a certain page with a scribbled on piece of parchment.
Surprised, he recognized Hermione’s handwriting and wondered
what else she had found since they finished.

Is this
why Remus doesn’t know? How long do they have to live if
denied? Can one be mated and not be together? Each mark means
something different---is it literal?

Confused
by her questions and what they had to do with him, he skimmed down
the page and realized with a start that this was an old book about
Lycan mating habits. Intrigued by how this would affect her, and if
this was what the wolf had been talking about, he paid closer
attention to the words as he sank down into the overstuffed armchair.
An hour later, he heard the front door slam with a bang and knew
that his wife was gone for the night, but he was so engrossed in the
book that he didn’t care. He had been a werewolf for four
decades now and there was so much he didn’t even know about
himself. A mate? That sounded so wolfish that it actually made him
laugh. When he read that a wolf has only one mate in his entire life
and would die without her, his laugh died instantly. The reading
continued to explain what the mating ritual entailed and he gasped in
shock when he saw a series of possible marks. He scanned the
pictures until he found the one in which he had been frantically
searching. His heart rate sped up, his breathing became quick and
shallow, and sweat beaded upon his forehead…he had marked her.
The scar had been so obvious only hours before and he now understood
his need to caress and lick said mark. And then it happened…his
memories returned in a flash of blinding pain and he could see
himself with her. The counter in the kitchen, the couch in this very
room several times, and then the kitchen again, only hours before.

Hands
shaking, he slammed the book closed and willed his body to come back
under control. She had known. This last week that they had spent
together doing research, she had known. The wolf said he had spoken
to her, had been with her, but Remus had refused to believe her
capable of such a thing. Now, however, he not only knew she had
been, but he understood why and was becoming hard just thinking about
it. Not to mention, his actions only hours earlier became even more
atrociously cruel and unforgivable. He dropped his head slowly into
his hands, realizing that he not only lost one of the best friends he
had ever known, but he had lost his lifemate as well. No part of him
wanted to hurt his wife, but his desires and feelings towards
Hermione now held a different meaning. Deciding that talking to her
was the only way to solve this problem, especially before their
meeting tomorrow, he stood up and left the room.

As he
padded down the quiet hallway, he was surprised at the lack of, well
anything really. There were no sounds, no other people, nothing…and
he could hear extremely well tonight. His sense of smell had
increased as well and he inwardly smiled as he realized he was using
the wolf’s senses. That had never happened before. When he
was still another hallway away from her room, he could smell her and
she smelled like moonlight. He snorted, damned if that wasn’t
the way to describe a woman! As he concentrated on her, he also
heard her soft sobs and his heart broke, knowing he was the cause of
her sadness, her disappointment.

He gently
rapped on the door and awaited her permission to enter. When the
door slowly opened, he saw the tear tracks that ran down her pale
cheeks. She clutched her robe tightly to her and a feeling of déjà
vu swept over him. Then he remembered the wolf taking her on the
kitchen counter, marking her as their own while she wore nothing more
than that robe. She had been so passionate, so completely perfect
that seeing her so broken in this moment ripped at his heart.

“May
I come in?” he asked quietly.

Her only
answer was to show him her back as she walked across the room and sat
back down at the vanity, pulling a brush through her tangled locks
and waiting for him to speak.

“Hermione,
I…I can’t even begin to…”

“Then
don’t,” she said coldly, turning around to look at him.
“Don’t come in here and tell me how sorry you are, how
stupid and pathetic I am, because I already know.” Fresh tears
spilled out of her eyes and down her cheeks, but she refused to
acknowledge them. “You made it perfectly clear how you thought
of me, and then proceeded to show me, so I really don’t need to
hear it again. I just want to go to bed and forget this entire week
ever happened, okay?” She turned around, but stopped at his
soft spoken, raspy word.

“No,”
Moony replied with authority, and for whatever reason, she felt
compelled to turn around and keep her gaze lowered from his.

Stubbornly,
however, she met his amber eyes through her own narrowed brown ones.
“How could you let him do that?” she asked.

He closed
the space between them and grasped her wrists in his hands. “I
didn’t just let him do that,” he growled, angry at having
her question him. “I goaded him into doing it. I taunted him
and pushed him until he finally broke his stupid barriers and took
what he was meant to have, and this,” he added, holding up her
left hand and showing her the finger, “is the result. The next
time he takes you, mate, will be because you both want it and because
he has accepted me. Only then will we truly be bonded. For now, the
slight bond that has been forged will have to last until such time.”

Hermione
stood staring at her ring finger and suddenly remember all the times
it had itched or burned, especially right after the earthquake in the
kitchen. “The kitchen shook, but the rest of the house
remained untouched,” she breathed.

“Of
course,” he smirked, “that was your bonding. I have
allowed the human his memories and he now knows everything.”

“Are
you leaving?” she asked in shock, her eyes finally meeting his
again while his hands still held her to him by the wrists.

“Not
yet. When the human accepts me, then I will go, but not completely.
As I have said before the happier either he or I become, the stronger
the other is in turn. I have never been more content than when I am
with you, and the human is stronger.”

“Does
he know what we’re saying?”

“Yes,
and he’s quite content himself letting me talk to you instead.
He’s too busy wallowing in his self-pity.”

“I’m
angry with you both right now. Whether I should be or not, I am.”

“Understandable,”
he rasped, pulling her closer and wrapping his arms around her. He
nuzzled her neck and held her close.

“No,”
she said, squirming under his touch, “I’m not ready for
that.”

“Allow
me to hold you while you sleep, mate. That is all I seek from
tonight, just let me be close to you.”

“You’re
not forgiven,” she said, but the smile on her face belied the
sincerity of her words.
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Darkest Desires