Don't Give, Just Take | F. Weasley

31 | Code: Poison

⚠️WARNING: Straight smut⚠️

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12:14 AM... Present...

Safe's back ached at the rough wood behind her. The blossomed tree swayed at the wind's whispers. Moonlight shone, yet all she saw was the silhouette of his sharp features.

Fred's lips, wet and plumped, feasted on her nape. He pinned her hard against the splinting tree, small needle-like chips that poked her awake. He pulled away, looking at her flushed face. "How many?" He asked, the hoarseness of his voice scraped her stomach into a soul sucking state.

She bit her lower lip, smirking on the corner. "Of what?" She smiled innocently, arms beginning to numbed as he held them above her.

The loud noise from the castle was like a buzz, confusing yet recognizable. Huge tree, carved with a W overlapped with an S in the middle of the first letter, hid in the shadow produced by the branches.

His right knee pierced between her legs, thigh teasingly feeling her clit underneath layers of clothing. He chuckled deeply, meeting her fiery forest with his endeavored earth. Fred cupped her chin, tilted her head upwards to see a clearer view of her squished face.

He leaned closer, his breath spreading across her reddened visage. "Combien?" He bit on her soft skin, hearing silent moans from her sweet lips.

"Mm... four." She gasped, feeling his cold rough left palm creep through the slit of her dress. Her heart filled with strings of triggers waiting to be pulled fire.

Four. Four former students. Four alumni men... flirted to get Safe's attention tonight at the ball. Fred made her keep count, whatever his reason was, she felt thrilled.

His chuckles were electrifying. They sent thirst down her spine to her cunt. He gripped her chin once again, tighter than the last time, leaning closer, half an inch close to her lips. He bit his bottom lip, studying her face with lust and famine.

"Four, huh?" He reiterated, pushing her arms further up to feel her body tense in too many strains.

The vixen grinned in drunken lust and teasing thrill. "And four women." She gasped at his thigh's sudden movement, triggering her clit.

Fred chuckled louder, jaw tensed. His pupils dilated in jealousy, thirst, hunger, and lust. He leaned close, sucked on her neck right beneath her ear. "Tu sais à quel putain de point je peux être possessif, n'est-ce pas, chérie?"

He pulled his hand off her chin and travelled back between the clothing she wore and the skin on her thigh. He tugged her lace underwear, making sure that the skirt of her dress was left unwrinkled as if he had done nothing.

"Mon Dieu, tu me putain de rends fou, Celeste." He whispered raspily, his forehead resting on hers, eyes closed. His insides shook, how he badly wanted to fuck her then and there.

The breeze and silence harmonized perfectly. With the darkness that surrounded them, lust was far more than five glasses of firewhisky. Her tan skin glistened seductively, her burgundy velvet dress sat tempting on her figure.

It was a V-neck floor-length evening dress, strings that held it up but revealed her petite back that added to Fred's jealousy all night with everyone looking at her like a prey.

Tension between the two did not help his fantasy. He could imagine her hugging the textured pole as he fucked her from the back. How he wanted to tug those soft, silky curly strands that seduced him to suck on the back of her smooth delicate neck.