One Step Ahead part I | Sirius Black

Chapter 42

{{MATURE}}

His fingers tangle in her ponytail, quickly undoing the band that holds it up and out of her face.

He leans back, his heart clenching at the sight of her pearly hair slightly wavy from the rain. He rakes his fingers through it, smiling slightly when she does the same to him. She grins and leans down to whisper,

"Are you waiting for an written invitation, Black? Take off your bloody pants."

He chuckles at her cheekiness, grabbing the nape of her neck and pressing a dizzying kiss to her sweet lips before she lifts herself off of him and he stands. He slowly undoes his belt, smiling as she takes the seat where he'd just been lounging on the bench with her on his lap.

She smiles up at him, feeling surprisingly sure of herself now. Whatever it was they shared was undeniable. And she was tired of fighting it, tired of distancing herself. If nothing else, they could have this, even just once.

Her gaze flickers down to where he's pushing his pants off, her eyes tracing the outline of his generous bulge. She'd heard the rumors, more rumors with more details than she'd care to admit. And not just about him—all of the Marauders. But no one was as revered as Sirius. His chuckle draws her attention back to his grey eyes, a smug smile on his lips.

"Don't make me charm you," She warns, laughing when he quickly reaches out and grabs her knee to tug her to the edge of the bench. He grins at the beautiful sound, muttering,

"You don't need to charm me, I'm already about to come in my pants."

"Sirius!" She squawks, scandalized by his words and twinkling eyes. It's his turn to laugh, deep and loud. It makes her whole body feel warm.

He kisses her cheek and her chin and the skin above her brows, smiling to himself. He can't believe it. He can't believe that Gwenyth Whitlock, the girl he's been harassing and chasing for years is right here. And she's not here because she just wants to shag or snog for notoriety. She wants him. He couldn't remember the last time someone truly wanted him.

She leans back on the rather narrow bench, saying flatly, "I suppose you couldn't have treated me to a warm bed?"

"You jumped me, Ninnie," He chides. "It's not my fault we're shagging in the changing tent."

She smacks his chest half heartedly, her breathing stuttering when she feels his fingers gently tracing patterns across her thighs. Sirius grins, smoothing his palm up her knee and to her hip, saying huskily,

"I told you I hadn't been with anyone. Aren't you going to reassure me?"

She blinks at him, saying nonchalantly, "I don't kiss and tell, Black."

He feels a flare of jealously, a twinge of that anger from earlier. Gwen doesn't have time to react when her hands are suddenly trapped above her head and he's grinding into her so harshly it makes a cry leave her throat.

"Fuck," She whispers, eyes clenching tight as he strokes his restrained member against her needy core. She tries to fight his hand pinning her wrists, but she'd made him mad and his grip was unyielding.

He does it again, rolling his hips teasingly against hers and the friction is so good. Toe curling good. But it's not enough.

"Okay!" She whines, mildly embarrassed by her tone.  He smirks and quirks a dangerous brow, trying not to laugh when she grumbles irritably, "I kissed Prewett once. That's it."

"See?" He says quietly. "Was that so hard?"

She rolls her eyes and goes to tell him to piss off, but then her knickers are pushed to the side and he's touching her, slowly circling her clit.

She moans quietly, taken by complete enjoyable surprise. He's gentle, teasing with his strokes. He curses lowly, muttering,

"Fucking hell, Gwen. You're soaking."

"Shut up," She groans, circling her hips on his giving hand. He laughs breathlessly, removing his fingers from her slick heat to tug down her panties. She leans up on her elbows and smiles at him so beautifully it makes him want to never leave the comfort of the quidditch tent. He presses a gentle kiss to her stomach, smiling slightly when he hears her murmur a contraceptive charm.

He pushes his briefs down and then it's just them, truly bare to each other for the first time. She pulls him up by his biceps, sliding her lips against his teasingly before she kisses him. He moans, grabbing her rocking hips and squeezing slightly. She sighs quietly, her stomach clenching every time she feels his pulsing length graze over her sex.

"Quit teasing," Gwen whispers, eyes rolling back when she feels his tip bump her sensitive bundle of nerves. He chuckles and bites down playfully on the skin of her neck, teeth grazing her rapid pulse as he replies, "You're the tease. Consider it your punishment for kissing Prewett."

"And what's your punishment?" She wonders breathily, arching her back from the cold wood of the bench beneath her and the teasing strokes of his member.

"I think I've been punished enough," He grumbles, his voice with an edge and his bite on the skin of her breast a little harder. It sends a shock straight to her core, making her groan.

"Fine, fine," She says grumpily. "Are you going to do it or not? I'm more than happy to do it without you."

A very pleasing image of Gwen pleasuring herself and saying his name flashes in his mind and he groans, licking over the love bite on her chest. It was an image he could admit he'd envisioned before, alongside the situation they were in now. But nothing was as good as the real thing, certainly not his own hand.

He gently presses against her, the tip of him just slipping inside. He growls low in his throat when she gasps out his name and he can't take it anymore. He thrusts into her, his brain foggy from how good she felt. Gwen let's out another sexy whine that he swears makes him grow harder inside of her.

"Fuck," She whispers, her hips bucking up to meet his thrusts. He was larger than she'd thought, the tiny twinge of pain and burning between her legs reminding her that it had been sometime since she'd done this. And she'd certainly never done it with someone like him before. But the tiny flicker of pain makes it that much better. Because it's him, the mix of pain and pleasure. It's so him it makes her feel like she's floating out of her body.

Sirius' eyes rake over her face, tracing the outline of her parted lips and the freckles that faintly dot her nose. He moans when he feels her clenching around him, so tight and so wet that he swears he's already close. He wants it to last longer, wants it to go on forever. But then her legs wrap around his waist and he's pulled in deeper, hitting something in her that has her gasping his name again and again, her hands holding onto his arms.

"Bloody hell, Gwen," He mumbles, realizing that she's close too. That she feels as good as he does. He brings his fingers down to circle her clit, his thumb pressing into her and then circling slowly. She cries out, her hand tightening on his arm as she climaxes, her legs tightening around him further as she shakes.

The sight of her pleasure filled eyes lazily looking up at him pushes him over the edge, his vision going white for a second as he comes. Then they're both gaining back their breath, staring at each other with something new shared in their eyes. He leans his forehead against hers, stroking his hands up her trembling legs as he murmurs,

"Je t'adore."
[I adore you]

It's a rather big confession, one he's never made before. But the anxiety he has melts away when she smiles, her pale eyes sparkling with mirth as she leans up to gently kiss his cheek. Sirius smirks and turns his head, chuckling when he catches her smiling lips with his own.

The sounds of their chaste kisses and whispers are quiet as they lay there, drowned out by the thunder and the rain pattering on the canvas above them.