the_debt_of_time

She released him with a wet pop. When he cursed Salazar Slytherin, she threw her
head back and laughed.
Sirius grinned down at her, his face flush. "Think that's funny, little witch?"
"What do you think?" she asked, still giggling.
Nineteen years, he thought to himself as he reached for her arms, pulling her up his
body to straddle his waist. Her warm arousal rubbed against his pelvis, and Sirius moaned
at the contact as he struggled to kick off his pants to join her in complete nakedness.
His gaze fell up and down over the gentle slopes of her body. Nineteen years he
had been dreaming of this, of her. Dreaming of the soft caress of her fingers, the plush feel
of her breasts and hips, the sound of her mewls, the sight of her nibbling her lower lip, the
smell of arousal, the warmth of her mouth and cunt, and Merlin, the taste of honey.
Nineteen years gone from his life and now here she was, straddling his waist and
looking down at him with mirrored hunger.
Unable to move of his own accord, lest he lose himself completely and drive into
her without thought, Sirius forced himself to lie still as she smiled lovingly down at him
and raised herself to her knees before slowly, achingly, sinking down on him until he was
completely seated within her.
She hissed pleasurably as he stretched her, and he moaned at the exquisite heat that
threatened to burn him alive. His palms hovered over her thighs, silently pleading her to
move before he lost it.
Mia tilted her hips forward and then back, and already it was too much. Sirius sat
up quickly and pulled her toward him, burying his face against her breasts, taking a pebbled
nipple between his lips and tonguing the peak of it until his mouth had the size, texture,
and flavour re-memorised deep in his consciousness.
He bucked his hips roughly and growled, nipping at her flesh as she whimpered and
dug her fingers through his hair. She rose and fell, impaling herself on him repeatedly,
moaning with each movement and new angle.
His attention was drawn to the neglected mound opposite the one in his mouth. He
dragged his lips from one side of her chest to the other, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses
in his wake before running the flat of his tongue over the skin of her breast, all the while
thinking that it was not enough. He would never have enough of her. An addict. He knew
what he was. She was better than firewhisky, cigarettes, and Muggle liquor combined.