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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

Chapter List
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Chapter Fifty-Nine

Twelve Kisses: Finally Pleasure
At a small table, hidden from everyone but the waiter, they talked of books, potions, music, other Potions Masters, and even shared a few bad jokes. They spoke of everything but being Master and slave. Directly after class, he had instructed her to have a quick orgasm and another dose of the potion after the long day. He’d then told her to dress in something pretty, and whisked her away to a small restaurant in London hidden by a fall of ivy and a discreet Do Not Notice spell. He was funny and charming, though the humor usually came at the expense of their students and co-workers, and the charm with a rare, wry smile.
He’d avoided talk of politics and anything that was reported – or not reported --- in the Daily Prophet. Instead, they played “guess the ingredients” of their meals. The chef obligingly stepped through the shimmering privacy spell surrounding the table and confirmed and denied their guesses after a bribe and promise that they’d neither replicate nor repeat their findings. At dessert they called it a draw, after she’d omitted sage and he’d misinterpreted blackberry brandy as bourbon and berries.
“Shall we go to the club I mentioned?” he asked after the dishes were cleared themselves. “As today is Friday, they will have music.”
The bill appeared on the table and Severus counted out the proper coins while she gazed at the clematis creeping up a wall that looked like it had been handmade by the Picts. The coins disappeared as soon as the proper amount hit the paper.
When she murmured her assent, he nodded to the proprietor, took her in his arms and they Apparated away. Still bemused and delighted by this apparent date, she clung to his lean frame. When they arrived with a POP, she looked around the dark alley that rather smelled of onions, Tuesday’s fish, and dust bins - and the fleeting shadow of a small cat or the largest rat in the world. She meeped and pressed closer to him. She clung as he glanced indulgently down at her.
After a moment, she asked, “Erm, where…?”
“Greenwich,” he replied, and pointed, releasing her, “there.”
Music drifted from a dark alcove across the street. He tucked her hand under his arm and they crossed the deserted street. An iron gate leaned against a white wall. Vines and hanging baskets all but filled the alcove’s entrance and obscured the name. The bit she could make out said “Oliver’s Jazz”. Over the next door, a sign for the Spread Eagle shone clearly in black on white lettering. He led her down a dark set of stairs. Music that made her heart hurt came from below and grew louder as they descended. Snape led the way, so Kiaya couldn’t tell if he was enjoying the tune as they entered. Inside the small dark club, dim light cast shadows on red walls. A woman with a flower in her hair and an ache in her voice sang of lost love while a clarinet cried behind her. They sat for over an hour sipping wine and murmuring about the music. She keenly felt his arm draped casually around her shoulder. Song after song flowed over them and in the darkness, they cuddled. Kiaya played with his fingers as her arousal grew. He let her, and stroked her shoulder and the side of her breast between sips of an Italian passito. She relaxed against his side, her muscles turning to butter. He smiled uncharacteristically. At the musicians’ break, he held her hand as they climbed the stairs to the street again. The gesture made her tummy tingle.
After a short interrogation and learning that Kiaya had never gone sightseeing in London, Severus took her in his arms and Apparated to the Jubilee Gardens. Without a word he released her, took her hand, and walked to the bottom of the London Eye, ahead of the queue.
Kiaya ogled the giant Ferris wheel, lit up and sparkling in the darkness. Diamond white lights reflected off the Thames beyond and in every tree lining the walkway leading up to it. The very air glowed around each glowing pinprick, the fog capturing the light. The buildings and bridges glittered, too, their lights winking in the frigid, misty air. Muggles with strange accents and odd clothes milled about, as though it was normal for them to stand around in the middle of winter. They were tourists and buskers, a street musician playing a guitar and they spoke a babble of languages that she couldn’t understand. It felt alive to Kiaya, who knew she’d been protected from the electric hum of London by her parents and then by Mr. Basilton. The scents filling the air made Kiaya breathe deeply and wrinkle her nose just as soon after she smelled overcooked meat and sweet pastries over the unmistakable odor of dirty water. Unhurried boats, big and small, drifted through the water of the river, seeming placid at the late hour. She couldn’t stop looking around, trying to capture every sight she could see - trying to embed everyone and everything into her memory as she clung to Snape’s hand.
Two flicks of Snape’s wand had a befuddled Muggle lackey handing him tickets to a long private capsule ride and directing them to the champagne bar before guiding them past the officious little man who seemed to be in charge. Moments later, they were escorted into a Ferris wheel capsule which gradually lifted into the air. Without even a word, Severus pointed his wand and the mandatory “three people per capsule” capsule host slid down the wall fast asleep, before Kiaya could even note that the man hadn’t disembarked before the ride started. For thirty minutes Snape stood behind her and showed her the sites and lights of London while they shared champagne and the pretty, pink truffles provided by the Eye’s management. Every silken word murmured in her ear brought her closer to trembling… to begging.
As they rose for a second time, her head was blissfully muddled as she ignored the glowing Westminster Abbey and the Muggle queen’s government building and Elizabeth Tower with its giant clock tower beyond the glass. The wine with dinner and after, the good food and music, and the utter pleasure of Master’s… Severus’s... company had relaxed her normally stiff muscles into warm liquid. The potion left her insides tingling. All she knew was that she needed his touch. She needed his kiss.
Turning her back on the glistening jewels of London’s city lights and the mesmerising river flowing below them, Kiaya slid her hands up his chest and wound them around his neck. Her training to please him was a part of how she thought now. The need for his touch had become a part of her soul. When she tilted her head to the side and lifted her lips, her fingertips tugged him down with only the slightest whisper of request, she asked softly, “Please, may I please kiss you?”
His lips curved into a dark smile.
“You may.”
She lifted up on her toes, her hands balanced on his shoulders. Her eyes half closed, when he spoke.
“But, tonight, we’re going to play a little game.”
She froze, lips pursed. “A game?”
His answer was a purr.
Her eyelids were heavy as she opened them again. Her voice thick with need, she asked, “What kind of game?”
“A kissing game,” he said, explaining nothing at all.
She bit her lip while looking into his eyes. His smile was crooked and sensuous. He remained silent.
She dropped down from her toes and he loomed over her. Kiaya would have to ask for what she wanted. He may not have played Lord of her Manor tonight, but she always had to ask when she wanted something from him. “Will you teach me the kissing game, please?”
His answer was another purr, sounding like large hunting cat. He smile was wicked and his eyes were fathomless. “I will give you twelve kisses tonight….”
“Twelve?” she repeated blankly, confused.
The smile disappeared. “No more. No less. Twelve.”
She knew better than to argue. If he said twelve… well, maybe she could seduce a few more of his drugging kisses with her own. The potion she took daily demanded that she have as much of his touch – and as many orgasms – as she could have. She nodded and slid her hands into his hair, loving the warm silk as it slid between her fingers. Her question was a whispered plea. “Please tell me.”
“I will give you twelve kisses - but you,” he paused and a wry smile shadowed his lips, “will instruct me exactly where to place them.”
Even her breath froze in her throat. “Instruct you…?” Her voice trailed off and she glanced down in nervous confusion. He touched under her chin. A single finger raised her gaze back to his. Jade met obsidian again. Her heartbeat fluttered.
“Any kiss. Anywhere. Anything you want tonight, kitten. Everything you ask for is yours. For one night.”
She hadn’t even decided what she’d eat or wear for the last couple months. How could she possibly…. her fingers slid from his hair, stunned. He winced when she caught a tangle.
“Oh Merlin! Oh, Master, I’m so sorry!” She struggled to free her hand, tugging even more. The city lights shone like stars outside the glass wall as they slowly descended. The lights of the Hungerford Bridge shone like a necklace just for them.
He grabbed her wrist and held it still. “Kitten, shh. It was an accident.” He freed her fingers and kissed each one, just above the knuckle then turned her hand over and kissed the palm then the tender skin of her inner wrist. His eyes never left hers. She bit her lip. His voice was brandy on velvet. “Those were free.”
Who was this man? Why was he being so gentle with her? Did it matter? She giggled in confusion and lust, her head spinning. Lifting on her toes again, she mashed her lips to his, though in her mind, it was sexy and alluring; it was romantic and carefree as they descended into the glare of the city lights.
He chuckled and held her by the hips after snapping the truffles into his pocket before they reached the ground. A whirlwind of Apparation later, he broke the kiss and guided her through the Hogwarts gates. The cold air was a jolt to her system and seemed to clear her head a bit. What seemed like moments later, they were in his rooms and their cloaks were hung up. Her fingers automatically went to the fastenings on her clothes. He shook his head and guided her into the bedroom.
“Not tonight, kitten. Tonight, I want to strip you myself.”
She gulped; this was truly odd behaviour for him. The no-clothes-for-the-girl rule had been in place since the auction. What game was this? She’d play it, alright. “Is it starting now?”
“Mhmm,” he purred, sounding like a contented panther toying with his after dinner mouse. “Where would you like your first kiss, beautiful girl?”
It was all the wine and that dash of impetuous stupidity that always lurked in the back of her brain when it came to this man that made her do it. She lifted her skirts just an inch and poked out her toe. She laughed, “Here, then.”
A mask of inscrutable insouciance descended over his face. He dropped to his knees on the thick wool rug that always made her skin itch and bent forward. His voice was a smooth, practiced murmur when he said, “As you wish, Mistress.”
A flash of memory came back to her, of her Master hissing about kissing the feet of He-Who-Should-Not-Be-Named. She grasped his hand. “Master, please… no.”
He looked up at her and the bland smile on his lips wavered. “Why not, kitten? You asked for your first kiss.”
“I was teasing. I shouldn’t have. I don’t want that.” She cradled his hand between her breasts.
Carefully blank now, Severus’s face barely moved when he asked, “Where, then?”
Wine, potion, and passion muddled her head and her only need was to please him. She turned his palm up and touched the back of her hand to his, offering the inside of her wrist. He’d kissed her there a dozen times, sending tingles rocketing through her belly with every touch of his lips. “Here, please.”
“Why there?”
Stifling the automatic ‘I don’t know’ that sprung to her lips, she took a moment and gave him the truth. “It’s more intimate than a kiss on the other side… it’s deliberate… like it’s important to feel my pulse beat for you.”
“It is.”
A muzzy smile bloomed on her face at his admission and her fingers curled in arousal at his stark words. He lifted her wrist and nuzzled the tender skin. Her pulse thundered against his lips as he brushed it with the most gentle of salutes.
“You have the most delicate scent right here.” He murmured against her wrist and his tongue flicked out. “And the most subtle taste.”
She inhaled deeply and pressed her thighs together.
Still kneeling, his hands dropped to her hips, tugging her closer. Long, nimble fingers waved away the surcoat covering her gown and he nestled his nose into the hollow between her breasts, nudging aside the neckline of her dress, breathing deeply. His voice rivaled the silk of her dress when he spoke, “Here, though… here, your scent is exquisite. Rich… sweet… woman.”
Her head spun. Her fingers slid through his hair, holding him close. Holding herself upright.
Inhaling deeply, he held her for a moment, then asked, “Where’s the next kiss, kitten?”
It took a moment to process his words, and even then, she wasn’t sure if she’d got him right.
“There. Right there,” she breathed and added, “please.”
“Count for me,” he purred over her heart.
“One,” she said automatically, no longer sure what she was counting.
A sharp, dazzling bite to the inside of her breast corrected her.
“Two,” she gasped.
“Good girl.” He kissed the bite, nipping and sucking until her knees went weak. A flick of his wrist had her gown sliding over her head and dancing into the laundry hamper.
Standing before him in midnight lace and court shoes that did nothing for her balance, Kiaya pressed her thighs together to keep from coming right there. When his hands and lips covered her breasts, caressing, licking, pinching, molding her flesh to his will as his teeth grazed her nipple through black lace, the potion and the enchanting evening worked their magic and she failed. Shuddering, she clung to him, her back arching as she panted her release.
Her bones melted and he stood, swinging her slight weight into his arms, nuzzling her neck as he strode into the bedroom. She clung until he dropped her lightly on the bed and undressed, popping a button from his white shirt in his haste.
Eyes half closed, she watched. Her knees lifted and her teeth sunk into her lower lip as Severus fisted his cock and breathed deeply, his eyes closed. The heels of her shoes sank into the bed and her stockings caressed her legs as they stretched but stayed put thanks to a Hold Up spell. Her fingers fluttered over her belly, her fingertips sliding downward until they met lace. Tracing along the edge of her panties, green eyes greedily watched his fingers wrapped tightly on his cock.
Kiaya groaned at the sight. Severus’s eyes flickered open and she could swear she heard him muttering the ingredients for a Fire Protection potion. Those dark eyes slid down her body, to follow her fingers as they moved over lace and tender flesh.
“Is that where you want your next kiss?”
Intent on the hand gripping the base of his cock, she nodded with a sigh of want.
His growl was stifled when he cleared his throat.
Suddenly, her eyes opened wide and flashed up to his.
He asked again, “Is that where you want your next kiss?”
Slowly exhaling and trying hard muster the proper words to respond, she finally whispered, “Yes, please, Master.” She bit her lip and whispered, “Please kiss me there.”
“Such a good girl,” he murmured, and prowled onto the bed, between her open knees.
She closed her knees just enough so his shoulders stroked her thighs as he lay down. The bed stretched at the foot to support his legs.
He brushed his lips along the top band of the lace riding low on her hips and spoke into her skin, the stubble of his beard tickling through the lace and hummed.
“Three.”
He smiled into her skin. “Good. Which spot, exactly? Or did you wish to waste your kisses all along here?”
She could feel the teasing smile in his words though saw no amusement on his face as he stroked his lips from hipbone to hipbone. “There. Yes. No! I mean… there, please….”
He nipped “Here?” He nipped. “Or here?” He nipped. “Or here?”
She breathed, “The middle… please.”
He laved the center bite mark and pressed a hot, wet kiss to her skin, tugging her panties down to find the perfect, soft spot.
Her hips lifted.
Severus looked at her without lifting his lips, his tongue feathering across the tender skin he’d commanded to be smooth at all times and cleared his throat.
Kiaya moaned and spread her legs wider. “Four.”
Purring into her flesh, he smiled. “Is there another kiss you’d like?”
She whimpered.
“If you want it, you have to tell me.”
She breathed a plea.
The silk and whisky of his voice stroked her every nerve and she trembled as her core turned to molten honey.
“Where do you want your kiss, kitten?”
“Lower… please, lower.”
“Say it, or I won’t know what you want.”
“My clit….” She begged, the sound too soft to leave his bed. “Please, I need you to kiss my clit.”
The lace panties disappeared with a growled word.
She didn’t hear him move, nor did he say a word but in the next instant her world collapsed as he tenderly bit her clit. The muscles of her belly contracted at the tiny pain and grabbed at ink black hair with periwinkle tipped nails. A press of his lips soothed the exquisite pain.
She gasped.
He growled.
She groaned.
He purred.
She sighed.
Severus’s tongue slid down to circle her entrance. As always, she begged for more. As always, he shook his head, leaving her virginity intact. Kiaya writhed for him, clinging and clutching.
He licked.
She moaned.
He sucked.
She pleaded.
He nibbled.
She whimpered.
He stroked.
She lifted.
He chuckled.
She shuddered.
He laved.
She begged.
He hummed.
She shattered.
Finally, a single, long, scarred finger slid into her clenching, pulsing cunt. As she poured her pleasure in a hot rain, he slowly moved his finger inside her. Stroking the magic spot inside her, he stretched her body, readying her. Barely allowed to come down, she shuddered and spread her thighs wider. Severus carefully added another finger to her channel and slowly twisted his wrist.
Her word came on a sigh. “Please.”
Kiaya lost her mind again, over and over. Pain and pleasure and desperate ecstasy combined and melded and forced a breathy shriek of rapture from her lips.
His lips and fingers guided her through an eternity of pleasure. As the fracturing colors behind her eyes slowed to glittering, exhausted stars, he lifted his head and rested his cheek low on her belly, his fingers still inside her.
Pressing a kiss to her mons, he murmured, “I think that’s five through, shall we say, eight?”
She laughed and groaned at the same time, unable to move.
His long fingers stroked her inside and she clenched, gasping, as sparklers of pleasure bloomed to life in her belly.
As her eyes drifted closed, she felt his fingers leave her body and heard him murmur something. She didn’t quite care what it was. She didn’t notice the phial filled with water, tinged pink with her broken maidenhead.
All she felt was a slight soreness when his fingers slid back into her, rubbing that lovely spot inside her core. All she felt was the sensuous glide of his lips and tongue up her belly as she arched for more. One hand stroked his shoulder, the other held tight to the headboard; she was half convinced that if she let go of either, that she'd wake from this most delicious dream.
Finding his own pleasure in the clench of her body on his fingers and the sound of her sweet moans, Severus kissed his way up her body, not wanting to distract her - for now- with counting. He nuzzled under one of the beautiful breasts that he'd admittedly forced on her, breathing deeply. Sweat, the scent of the perfumed soap he'd allowed for their date, and the luscious scent that was all kitten - Kiaya - his pretty little lover’s name was Kiaya. He purred it, deliberately, just to hear her answering moan as he scraped his teeth underneath her breast.
“Good girl,” he praised in a low tone, knowing the words would go straight to her head.
Her knee lifted to press against his side and her fingers curled painfully tighter into his hair. Severus considered that to be a high compliment. So was the rippling clench around his slowly thrusting fingers.
Sliding between her thighs, covering her, he pressed his hips into hers, holding her down. His lips traced the tendon along the side of her neck then bit down, shaking his head, tugging… almost tearing her tender skin. Into her savaged skin, he asked, “Who do you belong to?”
She trembled and arched at the pain and the claim. “You… God… you.”
“Say it!” he demanded. His cock bumped against her core. His black-eyed gaze bored into her.
“I belong to you!” She trembled and lifted her hips, just a little bit, grinding into his cock, parting the petals of need, needing him to feel her readiness. He slid to her entrance. She kept his gaze, green eyes pleading.
Thrusting deep into her slick heat, he groaned, “You are mine.”
They moaned together.
Finally.
Finally, after months of teasing, of torment, of virginity… she was his.
And he was hers.
Stretching around him, she winced just a little bit, but it was enough for him to notice. He dropped his forehead to hers and kept still so she could adjust. Their eyes stayed locked together. His jaw clenched but he held still in the cradle of her hips. Slowly she moved. Just a little bit. Her clitoris ground against his pubic bone. Side to side. She shook with the delicious sensation. Tilting up and down. The ache faded, replaced with a hunger for more of him. He groaned and gritted his teeth. She whimpered and wiggled and panted and finally… finally begged.
“Yes…. Move… please.”
She asked with such broken sweetness, that he couldn’t help but give in to her pretty plea.
Slowly, he pulled away and smirked at her greedy whine before sliding back home again. Her fingers clutched at his back and slid over bulging shoulders, and down tense arms, stroking each tensed muscle as he moved. She whispered a benediction, “You’re so strong.”
His smile was raw and more than a little feral. He sped up, giving her what she didn’t know she needed. Kiaya’s feet, still in the court shoes, pressed into the bed and hips lifted. She moaned a prayer. He lowered to his elbows, keeping her gaze. Pressing kisses and nips to her lips, he never stopped looking into her eyes. His hips canted and he drove deeper and faster. Writhing under him, her hands lifted to his back again, first stroking bunching muscles, then raking her nails helplessly over him.
Her silk-clad legs lifted to lock around his waist. The shoes whispered as they crossed and clicked when she locked her ankles. Grunting his approval, he thrust harder. She trembled and lost herself in the pleasure he gave.
“I…. I…. Ma….” She stuttered and choked on her pleasure, speechless, clinging to him, unable to beg his permission.
Severus ground out, “Come!”
She shattered around him. It was unlike anything she’d ever experienced. Hundreds … thousands of orgasms she’d given herself, hundreds he’d given her… this… she was lost in him. Utterly helpless to him. She was his in every way. Colors blinded her and she lost control, pouring her passion. She sobbed her love and devotion and vowed her complete submission to him without ever knowing she said a word.
He caught her face in one hand and kept her eyes on his as he thrust one last time, burying his cock in her. As he filled her body for the first time, just before he pressed his face into her neck, he snarled, “Mine!”
She held him that way for what seemed like forever as they drifted in and out of consciousness. He stayed inside her as they dozed. As she rested, a small smile crept over her lips and she kissed his cheek. He kissed her shoulder and murmured.
“Twelve.”
She cuddled and whispered huskily, “Twelve.”
With a hungry growl, he flipped her to her knees, hours later. She knew it was his favourite way to take his pleasure and he’d already taken her twice that night. He took everything. She gave everything.
She shook her hair to the side and raked the stragglers that clung to her sweaty skin away with her nails, baring her neck and spine to his gaze, and hopefully, his teeth. A slow thrust sent him home, deep inside. Already abused muscles stretched for him again. Deeper… relentlessly deeper, until he pressed against her back wall.
Kiaya gave a soft shriek of surprise and pain… and groaned as it melted into pleasure. When he pressed his palm between her shoulders she obediently lowered. Panting through the pain and the gorgeous pleasure of having him inside her, she shuddered. Whimpering, she stretched out her back, her cheek lowered to the warm goose down pillow. Without thinking, she bunched the pillow into the wall so she could breathe, though he usually growled at her to “be still, damn it” when she did so. His thrusts were smooth, pressing her forward each time.
Strong fingers bit into her hips, jerking her arse higher. Lowering her belly, she tilted her hips up and back, hungry for more. She stretched her spine so she couldn’t move anymore. He rubbed an alabaster globe in reward and slapped it right after to please himself. Heat bloomed on her skin and she groaned into the mattress. Rocking back and forth with him, her mind clouded.
All she felt was pleasure. All she needed, ever, was him. More of him. Deeper. As deep and as hard as she could have him. Her arms left their place next to her head and pressed into the pillow – into the wall. She forced herself back into him and stretched out her arms, locking her elbows.
Into the mattress, she begged, “More, please, more”.
His fingers twined through her hair and yanked back. She moaned at his control and clenched her already pulsing cunt around him.
“Please, Master…l … please let me come,” she begged, already close enough to be trembling for him.
He jerked in hard and fast, slapping her ass and grunted his assent.
He balls slapped her clit, driving her heartbeat and panting breath into the same thrumming rhythm. The sound and motion… the sensation was her soul. He was her universe.
And it exploded in a shimmer of stars as she screamed for him… and he shouted for her as he filled her once again.
Night blurred into day and melted back into night again. Potions and salves and whispers and husky chuckles melted the hours into writhing passion and love-slick skin and hoarse cries for mercy and more. They moved from bed to bath to floor and back again in giggling tumbles and sinuous beckoning, never noticing the food or clean linens that appeared. So engrossed in each other, Severus and Kiaya never stopped touching... kissing... making love.

Until, days later, the clock struck eleven times.
He wound around her and gave her exquisite ecstasy as she drifted between awake and asleep, fantasy and reality. There was no hint of pain, and the only words whispered were gentle odes to her passion and beauty. In the last few moments of the hour, he gave her adoration.
Severus slid from the damp, mussed bed as Kiaya pouted her aloneness in a light doze that was only half natural. He poured a potion from the back of his stores and padded back to the bed. He took her in his arms and held the drink to her lips, murmuring an oft repeated instruction.

Trustingly, she drank and her mind muddled the lovemaking and moaning passion and kisses and sweat slick skin and the scent and taste of each other. They became more than her present. Ecstasy became her past and her eternity. Finally… finally, she was his.

"Kiaya, we must go."

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