The Light in My Darkness ||Ominis Gaunt X OC||

Chapter 21 |NSFW|

Quite a bit of filthy smut but also a lot of tender kisses and body worship. Omi is a love-sick fool

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The night enveloped Charlotte and Ominis as they finally returned to their room, the weight of the evening’s social demands pressing down on them like a heavy fog. The quiet click of the door behind them felt like an unspoken permission to shed the masks they had worn all night. Ominis let out a deep breath, dragging a hand through his hair, relief and exhaustion evident in every movement. His hand found his wand, setting it aside with his cane, signaling that, for now, he didn’t need to "see." He was tired. Tired of the constant effort it took to navigate through magic. Tired of the facade he held up for his father.

He felt Charlotte’s warmth wrap around him, her embrace solid and steady. Her hands rested on his back, palms pressing gently, grounding him with her presence. He leaned into her, burying his head in the curve of her neck, breathing in the comforting scent of lavender and honey. Her warmth seeped into him, a balm to the evening’s agitation, chasing away the lingering shadows of jealousy and possessiveness from earlier. Here, she was his, untarnished by any other presence.

The memory of Sirius’s intrusion flickered across his mind, reigniting a spark of possessive jealousy that he quickly tried to push away. He was still a bit ashamed of how fierce it had been, but his protectiveness was instinctive, a feral need to keep what was his from the touch of anyone else. He thought back to how he had reacted so strongly in the past with friends and family; when Sebastian showed Akira the Undercroft, when Marvolo stole one of his favorite toys as a child. This possessiveness wasn’t new, but with Charlotte, it ran deeper, more intensely, igniting parts of himself he barely understood.

A soft, gentle hand threaded through his hair, pulling him from his thoughts. He let himself relax under her touch, savoring the tender, grounding rhythm of her fingers combing through the locks at the back of his head. The simple act soothed him, filling the space between them with something warm and profound.

He pulled back slightly, her golden aura illuminating his senses, and reached up to trace the line of her cheek, fingers brushing her skin as though memorizing every detail. Her breath was warm against his face, hitching softly at his touch. The quiet, fragile sound tugged at something deep within him, reigniting the tender side of his possessiveness, a desire not to claim but to protect, to cherish.

“May I hold you tonight, Birdie?” he asked, his voice barely a murmur, as if speaking any louder would shatter the moment.

She responded with a gentle kiss, soft and warm against his lips, her silent affirmation echoing between them. He smiled faintly, pulling her in for another, slow and unhurried, each kiss layered with gratitude and unspoken promises. There was no rush, no urgency. Just the delicate unraveling of the evening’s tension, the world outside melting away as they shared this quiet sanctuary together.

She turned, and he followed the movement of her hands as she gathered her hair over one shoulder, presenting her back to him. His fingers found the small buttons of her gown, working them loose with familiar care. He slipped the fabric from her shoulders, draping it over a chair by the dresser, and chuckled softly when he saw her struggling with her corset ties. It was almost a ritual now, his hands deft and practiced as he loosened the laces, feeling her exhale in relief as the garment released its hold on her.

She stood before him in her camisole and knickers, her silhouette soft in the dim glow. Her hands moved to his jacket, slipping it from his shoulders with gentle care, then worked on his waistcoat, her fingers lingering over each button as they shared tender, whispered kisses between each layer of clothing. His heart swelled at her gentle laughter, each soft giggle filling him with warmth as they undressed each other with unhurried affection.