Tethered | Sebastian Sallow x F!MC | Spicy One Shot

Tethered

AUTHORS NOTES:

Warning: DUBUOUS CONSENT. Do not proceed if lack of consent triggers you.

Characters are 18+. MINORS do not interact.

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Sebastian wasn't entirely sure why he'd used the unforgivable curse on her. He had no doubt he could've convinced her to do whatever he wanted quite easily; after all, getting what he desired came naturally to him, what with his Slytherin charm and all, but there was always the risk she'd shudder away from him, repulsed by his touch as if she could physically feel his tainted soul marring her perfect skin. For all his bravado and over-confidence, Sebastian wasn't sure he could bear it if she recognised him for what he really was: a monster.

Besides, the relic demanded a dark sacrifice, not a moonlit stroll through a rose garden, so Imperio it was.

The spell wasn't one he cast very often, but its effects were immediate and unmistakable; perfectly executed, like all his spells were. With the connection between them forged, her expression softened, lifted, became tender and gentle like the one he'd imagined on her so many times before. A blissful little smile tugged at the corners of her lips as if his intrusion into her mind was a comfort rather than a violation.

Intoxicating.

'Good girl,' he murmured.

Now that she'd finally stopped blushing and stammering, he allowed himself the pleasure of tucking her soft hair behind her ears, relishing in the silky slip of it against his skin. How many sleepless nights had he spent envisioning this very moment? He bit his lip and breathed deeply through his nose, willing himself to take it slow as his fingers trailed lazily down her slender neck. Sebastian wasn't good at slow, but for this he would try.

'Look at me.'

He didn't need to speak aloud. The connection that tethered her to the mercy of his will meant that she heard his voice in her mind whether he spoke it or not - but he did it anyway, unable to deny the thrill of having his every command obeyed without hesitation. And, oh, how beautifully she obeyed, lifting her pretty little face to his with glazed, half-lidded eyes.

'Don't speak, don't move, don't make a single sound,' he instructed, his voice so thick with need he could barely speak. 'Not unless I tell you to. Understand?'

Her little nod of assent was all it took for a dizzying rush of blood to flood straight to his cock. He gripped her waist with both hands, steadying himself, his fingers digging into her soft flesh as he pulled her against him. Her small frame against his larger one created a mind-numbing friction against his aching cock, and he moaned into her hair, grinding mindlessly against her navel. He breathed her in: sweet and citrusy; jasmine and orange. He'd never smelled anything so fucking delicious in his life.

For so long now, she had been the subject of his most depraved desires, the seductive form his fantasies took, the name he groaned into his pillow when the force of his orgasm ripped it from his throat. And yet he'd never had the nerve to speak these secret desires aloud, always too afraid that she, of all people, might reject him.

But now she was here; warm and soft and very real under the fervent kisses he was planting along her neck, his teeth grazing across her skin, his tongue leaving hot, wet trails over her throat. And even as he sucked a delicious mark on her collarbone, salty and sweet, she remained as perfectly motionless as he'd commanded her to be; her arms limp at her sides, her lips parted yet perfectly soundless.