Lustful Alchemy

26. CASSANDRA*

Aesop pulls me even closer, kissing me tenderly, almost as if he wants to ensure that what is about to happen meets every expectation and is perfect. And how could it not be? I'm about to experience every fiber of the man I like and who...

I don't want to say what I feel for him, the emotion I harbor inside me, for fear of suddenly waking up from what, after all these months, seems truly like a dream. I let myself be lulled by the pleasant sensation of his fingers brushing the hem of the sweater I'm wearing, lifting it slowly and revealing more and more skin underneath.

Aesop's hand slips under the wool and caresses the bare skin of my back, which immediately arches at his touch, almost imitating the movement of cats. Instinctively, I squeeze his right hand, with our fingers still intertwined, and with my legs I shorten the distance between my thighs and his groin.

«Can I take it off?», he asks me in a low voice while our lips are still brushing, referring to the sweater. I nod, eager with anticipation, and with a fluid motion, his hands grasp the edges of the garment and pull it off over my head. My hair falls back onto my shoulders and down my back, with a few strands brushing Aesop's chest, against which I now completely nestle. It is warm, broad, and his faintly defined muscles ripple under his golden skin. He is beautiful, and I am fortunate to be here with him, to be held by his arms, touched by his hands, and kissed by his mouth.

A faint sigh escapes my lips, and his left leg makes its way even further between mine, his thigh brushing against the cotton of my panties. That same leg he was ashamed and afraid to show me; I read the fear of being rejected, of being reduced to just his wound, on his face. But how could I ever do that? Aesop is not his scar! It is part of him, of course, and as traumatic as it was to get it, given its appearance ten years after the end of his career as an Auror, it has made him the man he is today.

The man I like so much and who is now taking all the time in the world to touch me in the way we both desire. His fingers touch, linger, caress, and knead the right spots as if they were mine; he knows perfectly what I like and, with excruciating yet exciting slowness, he takes his time to discover and touch all my weak points.

The arm with which he encircles my back lowers, his hand caressing every inch of skin down to the hem of my panties, with which he toys, bringing my excitement to a peak.

I push my pelvis against his thigh, so I can move against him, satisfying in the slightest part the pleasure the situation brings me. Aesop laughs against my lips: his usual deep, warm laugh, which sends a shiver down my spine.

«Haven't you learned yet that patience is a great virtue?», he teases, biting my lower lip gently but firmly enough to make me anything but patient.

«It's hard to be patient with you», I reply, pressing against his thigh, while I move mine even closer to his groin. I can feel the intense heat and the contours of his arousal.

Aesop slides the tips of his fingers into the light cotton of my panties, touching the hint of the curve of my buttock, while with the other hand he traces the contours of my breast. «You've been more than patient with me», he says in a trail of kisses that moves from my mouth to my ear and then down to my neck, while his thumb draws small circles on my hardened nipple. «Can't you be patient a little longer?»

«For how much longer?», I ask, already feeling weak as I tilt my head back.

Aesop's kisses move to my collarbones. «At least for the whole night. Long enough for you to understand that you're mine», he says as his mouth moves further down, along the full curve of my breast.

And at the moment his lips part to allow his tongue to leave its warm, wet caress on my nipple, in that same instant his hand in my panties squeezes my buttock to push my body higher so that my breast is at the level of his head, completely at the mercy of his ravenous excitement, I realize that I have always been his. From the first moment I saw his figure from behind at The Leaky Cauldron, with that scent that enveloped me and now forcefully invades my nostrils, clouding any trace of consciousness and transporting me into the aroused mists of the here and now; from the moment our eyes met and his thumb brushed the back of my hand, binding me to him indissolubly much more than his lips, now closed around my nipple, are doing.