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Weft of Power, Warp of Blood: A Tapestry of Desire	By : CMW Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 11952 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Anti-Litigation Charm: 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, though wish I did. The only money I have goes toward good wine and chocolate. You can't

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Chapter Fifty Five

Exquisite Agony

A whimper.

It hurt. Oh, Merlin and Morgana, Lord and Lady, oh God and heaven above, such exquisite hurt when he pinched her nipple. Long fingers dug into her breasts. Hands, strong from years of cutting and mixing, brutalized tender flesh. Pale cream and pink turned angry red. His mouth, though … oh his mouth…. His tongue flickered over the other nipple as fast as a hummingbird’s wings. She shuddered and begged through willing tears.

“More… please more.” Unaware that she had even spoken. She didn’t know what she begged for.

A wicked laugh.

“More what, kitten?” His tongue teased again. Slower, now that she’d admitted what she craved, what he’d guided her to desire.

A garbled moan.

Lifting his head only enough to murmur against the dark pink of tormented flesh. “More of this?” He licked again. When she groaned and ground herself into him, he allowed her to hear the teasing in his voice. “Or this?” He bit down with exquisite savagery.

A muffled shriek.

She trembled. Tears fell, disappearing into the hair at her temples. Kiaya tried to grasp him, her hands moving only the slightest fraction from their place; bound to the legs of the classroom lab table with black rope. Sweat pooled under her back on the black marble. Rivulets of perspiration poured from face, from underneath her breasts, from behind her knees. It trickled down her thighs, the tickle make her quiver even more.

A sensual snarl.

“Scream for me,” he commanded. “No one can hear you.” His hands twisted, deliberately placing tomorrow’s bruises. Strong teeth bit her again, harder than before. One hand left her breast to slide between their bodies – between her legs.

A guttural shout.

He held her through it, murmuring profane praises to her beauty and behaviour. When she melted into the table, he slid further down her body, pressing kisses and nibbles to her belly. A flare of candlelight made her skin glow and her eyes scrunch together in surprise. The heat brought a fresh layer of sweat to her body.

A mournful whimper.

Her breasts, as much as she appreciated the surcease of pain, felt abandoned and cold. Swollen. Aching. Tight. The skin stretched too tight over her body. Every nerve tingled. Every tissue throbbed. Every inch of her skin burned. She yearned for more. Agile lips taunted her. Stopping just above where she really wanted, he strung biting kisses over the skin that he’d demanded be clear of its naturally curling hair. His teeth stung. His lips soothed. His tongue drove her mad.

Slap.

A tiny scream.

A throaty chuckle.

The gentle laving of his tongue. A wave of his hand loosened the ropes binding her ankles to the lab table in her classroom. He parted her thighs further, making room for his shoulders. Another wave of his hand tugged the ropes tight again. Slap. She moaned and tilted to his mouth. Slap. She whimpered as his tongue worked magic on her clit. Slap. She felt herself grow slick and wet. Slap. She shuddered. Slap. She squealed when his hand made painful contact with her clit. Slap. She lifted for more. Slap. Her every nerve lit up like fireworks. Slap. She didn’t know pain, only sensation. Slap. She writhed under him. Slap. Mindless words and desperate sounds echoed in the stone room. Slap. She moaned as his lips tugged and his tongue tortured. Slap. She begged. Slap.

Another scream of completion.

He lapped up her pleasure and dried the table with an unspoken spell while he nuzzled her stinging skin.

Mindless, exhausted panting.

Another word released her hands and feet when she could breathe again. Heavy, deep gasps and slow, harsh shuddering breaths, she couldn’t speak but she arched to touch him. Evading her questing hands, he slithered off the table.

A quick command.

Buttery muscles complied. She twisted and wriggled her arse up the table, knowing exactly what he wanted. The sheen of sweat on her skin allowed her to glide on the black table. He wrapped his hand around the throat she presented as she hung her head from the side of the table, forcing her breasts high in the air. Blonde hair gleamed against his black trousers. Her mouth was already open around a greedy, sensual smile. He murmured a quiet spell to relax her even more and his hand heated her skin.

Watching the rise and fall of her breasts, timing her every breath, he opened his trousers. Fisting his cock, he tapped the head on her lips then slid into her mouth. Letting her play for just a moment, he enjoyed the stroke of her tongue and the light suction of the tease, while he stroked her neck. His fingers smeared the sheen of perspiration and he gripped tighter. Slowly he rocked his hips, toying with her gag reflex every time he dipped to the back of her throat. The convulsive squeeze on the head of his cock made him purr. So used to him taking his pleasure in her, Kiaya’s gag reflex eased. Severus pushed into her throat and pulled out until the head of his cock caressed her lips. Over and over, he claimed her throat. He controlled her breath with his cock. She couldn’t breathe with his cock in her throat. Severus had taught her not to think about it when she’d expressed her fears, but he was well aware that her very life was his to own or snuff out in this moment. He deliberately stayed deep for too long, watching the muscles in her belly tense. When her toes curled, he pulled away and murmured coarse words of praise.

She begged for more of him, her words sawing out of her raw throat.

He gave it to her. Over and over, teasing thrusts and deep plunges. His fingers curled into her hair again. He let his mind go. He let all thoughts of training her into perfection disintegrate. Severus came in a rush of a deliberately unidentified protective, warm emotion and a low roar.

When she’d swallowed, when his cock was clean and his back couldn’t stay straight another second, he tugged his cock free of her mouth and leaned over her body, his cheek resting on her chest. He let the thudding of her heart lull him into quiet restfulness.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The next afternoon, he stood before the man he considered more of a father than the sorry bastard that had actually sired him. Grave expressions mirrored each other. The grooves on Dumbledore’s face were deeper, more pronounced but the quickly hidden flash of terror in Severus’s eyes made Dumbledore rest his blackened hand on Severus’s shoulder. A piece of parchment was crumpled in his other hand.

“This is a test.”

A poisonous look was Severus’s first response. “I’m going to fail.” His lips twisted. “She’s going to fail. We’re going to die.”

“I do not intend to lose my Potions Masters, Severus. Please explain yourself so that we may divine another answer.” The man kept his voice calm and firm.

“In once glance he’ll know she’s the most experienced virgin on the planet. He’ll be drawn to her because of the Aphrodite’s Satisfaction - it’s her blood in that fucking potion,” he spat, ignoring the pun, “and the moment he looks in her head, he’ll be made aware of everything we’ve worked to keep from his knowledge.”

“Why do you …”

“Headmaster, you don’t understand - she is unable to handle the level of... cruelty… that he expects for this... show. He wants me to break her, and let him right into her mind.”

“I thought you were….” Dumbledore trailed off, looking pained.

“It takes time to work up to such a level of agony. I’m a sadistic fuck, but I’m not a complete bastard. I wouldn’t want her to keep sane during it anyway – it’s rather counter-productive.”

Dumbledore opened his mouth but no sound escaped. They both knew the old man knew nothing of it.

“I don’t hate the girl.” He broke away to pace the ancient rug. “It takes time to train nerves and... and … needs to crave pain. To see pain as just another stair step to ... to something good.” He finished lamely, knowing Dumbledore wouldn’t understand the exquisite savagery of sensual violence.

“An Auror, trained in torture techniques....”

“Would be discovered as soon as he breaks into her mind. A Polyjuice, as I think you’re suggesting, won’t last. Re-dosing would be obvious.” He threw himself into a chair and sprawled. He knew what had to happen if there was even the slightest chance of living through tomorrow night’s dark revel.

Dumbledore sat behind his desk, fingers steepled, looking over the rim of his half-moon glasses. “Drug her.”

Severus glared, daring him to explain.

Dumbledore looked at him over the rim of his glasses.   “Give her something to muddle her head - to remove evidence of memory charms.”

“We need to eliminate specific memories without fucking her up too much to teach.”

Dumbledore agreed with a nod. “Tonight. After dinner. It will take some time. After that...” he trailed off, trying to be discreet.

“Fuck her senseless for twenty-four hours, so nothing more is in her little blonde head.” The silk of his voice was raw with worry and self-castigation. He demanded, “Why did she get involved with this again?”

“I thought it a good idea at the time.”

Severus dropped his chin to his chest. “Next time you have a good idea....”

“Indeed,” Dumbledore said and uncrumpled the paper on the desk, smoothing it with his hands.

Dear Severus,

I haven’t seen a demonstration of your interrogation skills in quite some time. Before tomorrow night’s assignments, I would like to see your skills with a whip once again. I also look forward to meeting the young woman that Lucius has told me so much of.

The letter was unsigned, of course. There was no need.



~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

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Weft of Power, Warp of Blood: A Tapestry of Desire