Acceptance

Chapter Fifteen

Acceptance

Harry pushed the bacon around on his plate, wondering why he'd bothered coming into the Hall for a breakfast he didn't want. Hermione punched his arm, then gestured with a nod at the Head Table. He looked up, surprised to see Snape there. He looked down the table, looking for Tanya, but didn't see her.

"He's back," Harry said, "but where is she?"

"I don't know any more about it than you do, " she said.

He pulled his books from under the table and stood up. "Well, no doubt we'll hear about it through the grapevine soon. Wouldn't it be great to find out that there's a better Potions expert out there than Snape?" Even if it is Tanya, he added to himself.

Hermione and Ron followed along with Harry until they parted at the end of the corridor; Hermione to get to her Muggle Studies class, Harry and Ron to Potions. He supposed Snape would take the class, unless he'd given up all his teaching duties in the name of research. Would they learn anything about this new Potion?

The class was even smaller than it had been last year. Millicent Bulstrode had opted out, and Harry had no idea what courses she was studying now; didn't care, either. Sneed was still there, plugging away, as was Pansy Parkinson, not prone to giggling anymore, now that she had no one to giggle with.

He and Ron were keeping up, almost surprisingly so, and Harry wondered sometimes if they were actually finally getting it, or was Snape easing up. No, that couldn't be it, he thought. No way Snape would ease up just before NEWTs.

Therefore, he and Ron must have finally transcended the ranks of the fumbling amateurs to the qualified potions-makers of the adult wizarding world. It was a satisfying feeling, not having to dread this class as he had in years past.

As he set up his cauldron for the day's lesson, he glanced at the slate where Snape usually listed the ingredients and instructions for whichever potion they were to make. The slate was blank, though, so there was nothing to do until Snape arrived.

And with the usual swish of his black robes, arrive he did. He leaned imperiously against the desk and said that on this day, they were to make and bottle a Veritaserum Potion.

Harry bit back his surprise. That was a potion that required a month's time, stirring in the final ingredients under the light of a full moon. Did he actually mean to bottle it by the end of the class?

Then he remembered what Snape's field test had been all about. He pressed his brain to remember Tanya's essay from the year before, but all he could recall was that she thought she'd found a theoretical method to brew this potion from different ingredients.

Snape began walking around the classroom, passing out rolls of parchment. "You each have a different list of ingredients, though you'll all be brewing the Truth Serum. This is to prove that this serum can be made from any number of substitute ingredients. Please follow directions carefully as your results will affect more than your grade. You are all taking part in an actual scientific experiment. As such, I expect you to record on the space available, everything that happens as you brew. Be very descriptive about color, viscosity, odor, et cetera."

Harry looked at his parchment, and his knowledge of herbology told him that most of these items were ordinary plants found almost anywhere. This would yield a truth serum?

He dutifully mixed them together, taking note that there was no counting revolutions of his ladle, no timing of the boiling. It was as easy as making a cup of hot chocolate, and he marveled that no one had ever come up with it before.

He ladled a vial full, stoppered it, and was just labeling it when Snape approached his desk. "Potter, Weasley, there's Order business requiring your attendance this afternoon at 5:00 in Professor Dumbledore's office."

"Yes, sir," Ron said, and Harry looked up at Snape to see if he could get a clue about what the meeting was about. Would he see Tanya there? Should he allow himself to be friendly toward her? He did feel somewhat foolish carrying on a grudge she didn't seem upset about.

But Snape's countenance offered no clue, and he left the Potions classroom, feeling slightly nervous. Not about the meeting. About the possibility of seeing Tanya again after what seemed a long time.

The end of the school day found Harry and Ron heading past the yielding gargoyle and up the hidden stairs to the headmaster's office. They entered to find the room crowded with wizards. He nodded to McGonagall, Moody, Lupin, Arthur Weasley, and tried to ignore the friendly wave from Raphael. Tonks was there, streaking her hair magically, and there were several more wizards talking, most of whom Harry knew only by name. They joined Tonks and Hermione.

And Tanya was there. Leaning on the ledge of the window, listening to something Mr. Weasley was saying to her. He almost talked himself into walking across the room to say hello when Snape entered the room, a ledger in his hands.

Dumbledore asked for everyone's attention, and the room quieted down. Harry glanced over to Tanya, who noticed the movement and looked his way. He nodded at her, noting the surprised lift of one eyebrow. He hurriedly turned back to the front, afraid to find out whether or not she would have returned his nod.

"Some of you are already aware of the research that has been planned to test theories for short cuts to making some of our most important Potions.

"To bring the rest of you up-to-date," he continued, "the Veritaserum Potion seemed the most straightforward. And so, Professor Snape and Miss Relke here have been sent out into the wilds to concoct this potion that uses the vegetation that is so abundant in the European countryside."

People began murmuring softly. The very idea that such a Potion could be brewed more simply was laughable.

"Yes, I know it sounds impossible," smiled Dumbledore, "else why hadn't someone come up with this idea years ago? Well, I must take responsibility for that. I kept Severus here too busy with other matters, and his research has been forced to the bottom of his list of things to do. But now, he will inform us as to how that experiment has progressed."

Snape turned to address the crowd. "Last year," he started, "Tanya had turned in an essay in my Potions class which revealed that she, or rather, certain members of her family, had brewed certain potions regularly. This Veritaserum Potion, or as she called it, Truth Serum, had the same effect as what I had described in Veritaserum.

"She insisted that it could be brewed from plants that grew anywhere British or Irish water flowed, and I dragged her out to the wilderness to prove it.

"And prove it, she did," he said proudly. "I have here all the scientific notes cataloging every step of the process, including any of the vegetation that could be used. The possibilities are almost endless. This potion, may I add, was brewed within the space of two hours, in broad daylight. My seventh year students have replicated the test just this morning, using various substitutions, within the two hours allotted for the class."

More muttering from the wizards in the office, mostly the older ones who were always reluctant to depart from tradition.

With a wave of his wand, Snape listed the ingredients, as well as possible substitutions, in the air above Dumbledore's desk. "We did test the Potion; it seems to work. However, we'll need to test it further to convince all of you that it works. I will leave that to our headmaster. He can choose his own subject." With that, Snape walked over to the window, speaking quietly to Tanya, who smiled and shook her head.

"Well," Dumbledore said, lifting a bottle of the Potion, "do I have any volunteers?" There were a few nervous laughs, but no one stepped forward. "Mr. Ron Weasley, I believe you'll do just fine for a start."

Ron nervously looked to Harry to bail him out, but Harry just grinned and said, "Better not tell him anything about you and Hermione; she won't appreciate you telling her secrets." Ron glared at him and shuffled to the front of the room.

"Now, now, no need to worry," Dumbledore said kindly, "we won't penalize you for your past indiscretions and crimes. Now first, the serum." He added three drops of the serum to a cup of pumpkin juice and encouraged Ron to drink it. With obvious misgivings, Ron drank, and turned to face the small assembly, his face screwed up tight.

"Does it taste as bad as all that?" asked Dumbledore.

"Actually, it tastes rather good. Sort of like the pumpkin juice has a peppermint under taste."

"Good, good. Now then, second question. Why do you want to be an Auror?"

"Because then I'll be important," Ron said unhesitatingly, blushing furiously at his own words. "None of my brothers are Aurors, and you have to be really brave to do it. They must get all the women they want."

There was good-natured laughter in the room, and Ron looked as though he wanted to crawl under the desk. Hermione rolled her eyes.

Dumbledore ruthlessly pushed on. "And when you think of your worst fear, what do you see?"

"Spiders. Large, fast moving spiders."

"And your best memory to date?"

Ron's face seemed, impossibly, to redden even more and he began, "about three months ago, when Hermione and I . . ." Dumbledore mercifully cut him off before he could finish. Ron heaved a sigh of relief and looked down at his feet. He glanced at Hermione, who was hiding beneath a curtain of her hair.

Dumbledore appeared to be considering his questions more carefully. "What's your favorite food?"

"Fried chicken."

"Least favorite food?"

"Carrots."

Dumbledore looked over at Arthur. "Are these correct answers, Arthur?"

"As far as I know, they are."

"All right," said the headmaster. "Now to something more conclusive. Ron, I want you to tell me your name is Harvey Smith. I'll ask you, then you tell me that's what your name is, do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Okay then, what is your name?"

"H-H-Har-. . ." he shook his head and tried again. "My name is H-H it's H-H-Har-RONALD WEASLEY!" He widened his eyes in amazement.

There were more approving murmurs going through the chamber now. Snape stepped forward slightly. "And now, Headmaster, is your chance to ask him to list all the crimes he and his friends committed from first year on." Harry quickly glanced at him, alerted by the sound of humor in his voice. As the rest of the crowd laughed, Harry simply stared. Snape teasing? Ridiculous.

However, Harry's mouth dropped open in surprise when he saw Snape lean back toward Tanya and put his arm across her shoulders, embracing her in congratulations. Snape, touch another person? Snape laughing? It wasn't real. He'd wake from this dream soon. He must. His world, as he knew it, was turning upside down.

"That'll do, Ron," Dumbledore was saying, "I think we've frightened you long enough." Ron quickly darted back to Harry's side, avoiding Hermione. Dumbledore raised his voice to be heard over the others.

"I'm told the effects last approximately thirty minutes," he said. "I will personally go after anyone who takes advantage of Mr. Weasley's vulnerability to ask him questions he doesn't want to answer. And now, is there anyone among you that doubts the effects of this Potion? The only way to be sure is to take some and allow me to question you. This may be your only chance to safely convince yourself it works."

Three or four of the strange wizards went forward, and allowed themselves to be tested, making a game out of it, yet were unable to help being impressed. More wizards were looking at Snape's elevated list of ingredients, and a few were gathered around Snape and Tanya, obviously offering congratulations.

Harry and Ron approached that group, and Harry was surprised to see that Snape wasn't taking any credit at all for the breakthrough. Although Tanya seemed a tad uncomfortable with all the attention, Snape wasn't letting her escape, and Harry could see that's just what she wanted to do. Was it because of her reluctance at being the center of attention, or was it because she'd seen him approaching?

He caught her eye as he and Ron joined the small group at the window. He smiled at her, and after a brief hesitation, she smiled back. Ron grabbed her hand, pumping it furiously, and swore to her she'd be in history books of the future; he understood how important this deal was. As Ron started barking questions at her about what else she was working on, and how cool it was that she was working as a staff member, instead of a student, Snape moved away and Harry relaxed slightly. If Ron could control the conversation, there would be no awkward silences. Now that Snape left, he wouldn't have to be worried about the Professor's protective feelings toward Tanya. Harry figured Snape must be aware by now of how poorly he'd treated her. And he must admit, however late, that he had treated her poorly. Oh, if Hermione could read his mind now . . .

*****

Snape put another log on the fire, and stood looking into the blaze. It had been a good meeting, he reflected. There seemed to be no one who doubted the potency of the Potion, once a few of them tested it. And it was just the beginning. They'd begin work on some of the medi-Potions that were so essential to St. Mungo's and Madam Pomfrey. He supposed he should move Lupin's Wolfsbane to the top of the list; it was a time-consuming potion. If he could whip out a batch in an hour or two, then most likely Lupin could learn to do it himself. The less Snape had to deal with Lupin, the better he liked it.

They'd need potions for shock, bleeding, broken bones (something that didn't taste as bad as Skele-gro), something that restored sanity for those poor souls that had taken too much of a Crucio spell . . .

His thoughts were interrupted by a soft knocking at his door. Knowing the hour was late, he assumed it was Dumbledore. No one else ever called on him. Opening the door, he was surprised to see Tanya standing there, holding a bottle of what appeared to be whiskey in her hand.

He pulled her inside, afraid some stray student would have reason to be down in the dungeons at this late hour. It wouldn't do either his or Tanya's career any good to have to withstand the rumor mill.

"What are you doing here?" he asked incredulously.

She held up the bottle. "I was hoping we could toast each other's success, and drink to our future successes."

It seemed harmless enough. He motioned her to sit, and collected a couple of glasses from his kitchenette. Coming back to the sofa, he set the glasses down on the coffee table and took the bottle from her. Pleasantly surprised to see she remembered his taste in whiskey, he poured a shot for each of them, and handed her a glass. Picking up his own, he said simply, "To a lifetime of accomplishments." They drank, savoring the flavor and the burn.

"So what are we working on next?" she asked.

"I thought maybe the Wolfsbane potion for Lupin. And of course, others who suffer the same fate."

"Uh, oh," she said, putting her glass on the table. "I'm afraid I have no ideas there. Gypsies believe the werewolf to be an apostle of the devil, not some innocent victim who'd been bitten. We never had a cure."

"No matter," he said confidently. "With your understanding of herbology, I'm sure that between the two of us, we can at least start throwing together some ideas. We just have to start analyzing what powers we get from each ingredient, and make a list of possible substitutions."

"You love being involved in research, don't you?" she said, smiling.

"I've been trying to get back to it for years."

"You don't like teaching?"

"Not Potions. There really aren't very many who get past O.W.L. level. It's frustrating."

"Was there ever anything else you taught?"

"No, but I had been trying to get the Defense Against the Dark Arts post for years. I finally gave up, knowing the Ministry would never approve my appointment to that field. They don't trust me."

"But, you have to play to your strengths. You did have a lot of practice there, didn't you?"

"How much do you know about my Dark Arts phase?"

"Just what you showed me when we first met."

"I don't remember showing you anything," he protested.

"Do you remember me telling you that when I first saw you, I took a reading from you? Some of what I saw I later realized was your being part of a group of Death Eaters."

"Why didn't that scare you away from me?"

"Because I didn't understand what I was seeing. Not until much later, when I began to learn more and put two and two together. But I know that you were never really comfortable being there. Even then, you felt out of place."

"You're very perceptive; I keep forgetting. But make no mistake; I was fully aware of what I was doing. It took me more than three years of it to run back to Dumbledore, practically begging for forgiveness and another chance."

"Which he wouldn't have given you if he had any doubts."

Snape eyed her thoughtfully. "You might remember that a little more often when you think he has doubts about you."

She smiled lazily. "Touche."

He felt his pulse begin to race at the way she was looking at him. He had to do something fast. He stood, pulling her up with him. "And now that we've had our toast, I suggest you return to your rooms before someone realizes that you're down here."

She pressed her body close to his and ran her hands up his chest to lock her arms around his neck. Whispering in his ear, she replied, "But I don't want to leave, Severus."

His body's reaction was instantaneous. He felt her push against his arousal as she lifted her lips to his. He could taste the whiskey on her lips, feel the heat of her mouth, as well as her body that was molded against his.

He returned her kiss, his arms around her pulling her even closer, and tried to ignore the little voice in his head telling him to push her away, this was wrong! She was unbuttoning his shirt, and he was powerless to stop her. She touched her lips softly to the sensitive spot in the hollow of his throat, and he was still powerless to stop her. He ran his hands down her back to feel that she wasn't wearing anything under her robes, and he knew he'd never be able to stop her. She'd come here planning to make love with him, and he didn't want to stop her.

He placed his arm under her legs and lifted her. He carried her into his bedroom and carefully lay her down on his bed. The bed that had never held anyone's body but his own. She'd kicked off her shoes on the way in, and he stilled her hands so he could unclasp each button on her robes, slowly, opening the robes as far as he could with each button undone. Her exquisite breasts with the dusty pink hard nipples begging for attention; her flat stomach that quivered with the breathing that she was trying to control, then lower, he pulled open the last clasp and took in her long legs, her trimmed bush that hid her most precious secrets.

She sat up slightly so the sleeves fell from her shoulders and lifted her hips so he could sweep away the robes. He undid the buttons on the cuffs of his shirt; she pulled it from his belt so he could take it off. He kicked off his boots while she pulled at his belt, trying to work the buckle. He helped her undo it, and allowed her to work at the fly, tugging his slacks down to reveal his arousal.

He stood up long enough to toss aside his slacks, pulled off his socks and approached the bed again. Looking deeply into her eyes, he silently gave her time to change her mind. Apparently that wasn't what she had in mind, and he no sooner stretched his body out full length next to hers than she, with strength he wasn't aware she had, flipped him over to lie on his back.

She softly ran her lips over his, teasing him, moaning quietly when he demanded more. He tasted the inside of her mouth, his tongue melding with hers. She pulled free and traced a line of kisses down his throat, licking at his Adam's apple, teasing again that hollow she couldn't have known was so sensitive for him. He moved his fingers through her hair, loving the silky feeling running over his skin wherever the loose strands touched him. She'd found his male nipples and began licking and lightly sucking at them, growing bolder at the sound of his moan.

She moved her warm lips down the path of his chest hair until she was teasing his stomach, spending more time just above his belt-line, his hardness twitching in response to such skillful teasing. She detoured around until he could feel her lips lightly caressing the sensitive skin of his hips, and she kept going. He moaned when her lips and tongue found the inside of his thighs, taunting him with her nearness; getting closer to his throbbing erection, then pulling away to tease his thighs again; moving closer, then pulling away.

How could she make him this excited without touching him? Never before had he felt so hard with no direct contact; even the skilled professionals he'd seen a time or two in his younger days couldn't do this, and he was swept away by the idea that she was here, doing these things, not because he'd paid her, but because she chose to be here; she'd planned it, making it obvious by not wearing anything but her robes, the easier to disrobe.

He was panting shamelessly now, ready to beg her to touch him there, he'd promise her whatever she wanted to release him from this incessant need, and just then he felt her hands on him. He glanced to see her looking at his hardness with no coyness, no shyness. He almost lost it when he saw the want in her eyes; the passion that she'd elicited in him was reflected back in those eyes, and he'd never thought he'd live to see the day when a look like that was directed at him.

She lightly wrapped her hand around him, and tried a couple of strokes. His breath came out in gasps. It seemed to encourage her, and he felt the fluid seep from the tip, oh god he was getting too close . . . he moaned out loud when she ran the palm of her hand over the head of his cock, spreading the wetness down to her hand on his shaft. She stroked again, and he grabbed the sheets in his fists, gasping his need to the room.

She bent down to him, and as he realized what she had in mind, he felt her seeking tongue trace a line up the underside, tickling just under the join of the shaft and the head, and he groaned out loud . . . "Oh, yes . . . aaahhh, Tanya . . . yes, oh yes . . ." She kissed and licked the head . . . his hips bucked in response . . . he felt the heat of her mouth a fraction of a second before her lips closed over him . . . "Oh, oh, oh, god yes . . . OHHH . . . YES . . ." He felt her tongue swirling around him as she took more of him into her mouth . . . he could feel the back of her throat as she took more of him in than she probably should . . .

"Tanya, oh god . . . Tanya . . .aaaaaahhhhh . . . yesssss . . ." He could feel everything in him tensing up, his hips were keeping time with her mouth . . . he wanted her to stop because he couldn't stop himself . . . yet he wanted her to go on . . . "please don't stop . . . ohhhh . . . yes, yes, yes, oh god, Tanya, yes, yes, oh, oh, she was humming against him; he couldn't take it anymore. "Oh god, Tanya, OHHHH . . . AAAAHHHH . . . he exploded in her mouth, he couldn't stop his hips from thrusting upward, he was pulling the sheets from the bed in his fists, she was still sucking . . . OH, OH, OH TANYA, OH OH GOD . . . Ohhhhh . . . he blew out the last breath, swearing to himself that he'd seen stars . . . Oh god, that was the most incredible experience he'd ever had in his life.

He told her so, still out of breath. She smiled and moved up to where he grabbed her, rolling so that she was under him, and kissed her. He was enchanted to see that she was still breathing heavily. Was it because of what she'd just done or was there something more? He followed the same path she had, spending a lot of time teasing her hard nipples, happy that her heavy breathing was turning into moans. It was passion he'd seen in her eyes, not exhaustion. She'd gotten turned on by doing what she'd done, and it amazed him that his excitement could cause such a reaction in her.

He waited until she was pulling at his hips to maneuver him between her legs; he headed the other way instead, teasing her the way she'd teased him, delighting in exploring the many folds and the wetness between her legs. He'd found a hard little nub where he pretty much expected to, and teased her until she was thrashing around on his bed. He slipped a finger into her, surprised at the tightness. He didn't figure she was a virgin, as passionate as she was, but he almost wondered if he'd fit. He added a second finger and reached into her depths, amazed how deep he could go. He moved around, and she called out to him, "Severus, Sev, now, I need you now!"

Showing that amazing burst of strength once again, she pushed him over onto his back, and straddled his hips. Surprisingly, at least to him, he was hard again, and held her hips while she guided him inside her heat, his delight in her resulting moan fleeing in the wonder of it all. He'd never before had such sensitivity there, but he could feel all of her, could tell just when he was about to hit bottom, holding back because he was afraid he'd hurt her; he could now tell just how to move so she gasped out loud, he was learning just when to thrust hard and when to teasingly pull back. She called out his name when he rubbed his thumb over her nub, and without pulling out of her, flipped her down to the bed and positioned himself over her.

He settled a little more of his weight on top of her, knowing by her reactions that she liked the feeling of his chest rubbing over her breasts. He barked out his breath when she rocked her hips to make sure his pelvis hit her nub with every thrust. He could feel it building up in her, her body tensing, begging for release, the heat increasing until he thought he was on fire inside her. For the first time in his life, he experienced what it felt like when a woman came, her muscles clenching him even tighter, throbbing around his hardness, pulling him deeper into the void. Her nails were leaving their marks across his shoulders, his name on her lips as she gave herself up to her climax . . . the final surrender as he let go, pouring himself inside her, his hips bucking and jerking beyond anything he could control. Looking down into her face, seeing the swollen lips and the passion-darkened eyes, he knew that it was him that she wanted this with, not because it was convenient, not because she felt sorry for him, not because she was curious, but because she wanted him.

*****

Tanya slowly became aware of the heat beneath her cheek, the steady beat of a heart under her ear, the comfort of a body under her leg, the mesmerizing sensation of a hand unhurriedly smoothing down her hair. She kept her eyes closed, savoring the memories of the night just past.

She had acted on impulse. Fearing that he'd rebuff her, afraid that he thought of her as a child, she'd brought down the whiskey as an excuse to see him. That he didn't immediately eject her from his premises had encouraged her, and she'd let herself follow her heart. She'd been incredibly aroused at his body's reaction to her, and promised herself that she'd never again try to second-guess the outcome of anything she wanted to do. If she had thought twice about it, last night might have never happened. And she wouldn't know this happiness now, lying in his arms, feeling his touch on her. Knowing that he didn't touch other people gave her that needed feeling of being special, if only to one other human being.

She shifted her leg slightly, to ease the growing ache in her back. Under her ear, his heart began to beat more quickly. She removed her leg completely, giving him room for the rest of his body to respond. She traced lazy circles lower and lower down his chest, gratified to feel and see how quickly his arousal manifested itself. Now his breathing quickened, and the fingers that had entwined themselves in her hair pulled slightly to lift her face to his. He kissed her, a soft, undemanding touch of his lips on hers.

She wrapped her hand around his cock, lightly stroking, and felt the first strong wave of pleasure shoot through her at his answering moan. He moved until he had her on her back in his bed, half covering her body with his, and she went willingly, content to give him full command of her passion.

He blazed a trail of hot kisses down her sensitive neck, shuddering when he spent more time in the hollow of her neck, kissing away the memory that went hand-in-hand with the scar he found there. He teased her thigh with his hand as he took one hardened nipple in his mouth and toyed with it, changing her soft moan to a more demanding gasp. She opened her legs to his increasing pressure, inviting him to explore at will. He took her up on it, putting one leg between hers and teasing her growing heat with a languid finger, and she felt him smile around her breast when her hips began pushing upward, wanting more of what he was giving.

She let her hands smooth the skin on his back, tracing scar tissue she found there. She ignored the stiffening of his muscles, catching his eyes to show him that she didn't find the scars abhorrent. He relaxed, little by little, and she pushed upward against his chest, loving the feel of his weight on her body. He moved his other hand slowly down the length of her, shaping and molding her flesh to his broad hand. She sighed contentedly, feeling protected and alluring at the same time.

But his finger was forcing her blood to flow more quickly, and her breathing was becoming more audible. She ran her hands down his back, cupping his butt and pulling him closer to her, loving the feel of his hardness pushing against the softer flesh of her belly. She wriggled her hips, catching her breath at his groan.

Never one for a lot of self-discipline, she allowed herself to touch him all over, impelling him to come up to her level of excitement. He moved to tease her other nipple, and slipped a finger into her, stroking her internally, searching for that spot that would make her crazy.

She felt her juices drip out of her, and he pulled his fingers out in spite of her moan of protest. He stroked upward, finding her nub and putting just a little pressure on it, rubbing in tiny circles until she was gasping, opening wide her legs, silently begging him to enter her.

He put his other leg between hers, and her hips automatically adjusted to get ready for him. He teased her by penetrating only so far, waiting for her to rise up and let him in. "Oh, Sev, please, now, take me now . . ." He pushed slowly in, so slowly, and she gloried in the fullness of him, helplessly tightening around him. She pulled until he brought his mouth up to hers, and she made love to his tongue, loving the fact that he couldn't control his breathing anymore. She did this to him, she made him moan her name; it sounded so good on his lips. She felt powerful.

He began thrusting more insistently, taking her breath away, and she squeezed her eyes shut when he moved his hips, searching for every niche inside her. She pulled up her knees and wrapped her legs around him, grabbing at his upper arms until she'd pulled them down on her own arms, wanting his full weight on her, moving until she was holding his hands. He held her there, his hands tightening, his hips bucking harder, and he'd found that spot, yes, he'd found it, and her world began spinning away. She was barely aware of her voice sounding harsh and guttural, her ears straining to hear every moan, every gasp, every sound of passion coming from him into her ears. Her entire body arched upward, caught in a tidal wave of passion, carrying her out to sea. She mentally begged him to join her. She felt his hot liquid burning inside her, his hips banging against hers, his velvet yet harsh voice calling her name, and she looked up into his eyes, seeing deep into their mysterious depths, and she knew she loved him; she'd loved him since she met him, since before she'd met him, and she knew that she always would.