the_debt_of_time

her hand, his gaze suddenly dark and hard. Mia swallowed in reply and watched as he
removed the spoon from his mouth and leant forward, his eyes never disconnecting from
her nervous stare as he leant his mouth over the flat planes of her body. Her breath hitched
in her throat, and she could feel her heart beating hard against her rising chest as she stared
down into her boyfriend's—no, her lover's—eyes as they pinned her to the bed.
Sirius licked the trail of melted sweet cream against her skin with languorous
lapping, similar to the way he would lick her cunt shortly after making her scream her throat
raw—his name the constant shout of praise on her lips. He would tongue her down from
the high, a smug grin on his face as though he were partaking in the spoils of a well-won
victory.
Mia moaned at the sensation, but then let out a sharp squeal when she felt ice-cold
once again. She stared down to where she saw him purposely dripping the ice cream out
of the container and onto her stomach.
"Sirius!" She sat up only to feel a firm hand on her shoulder shoving her back down.
Glaring up into stormy grey eyes, she growled at him.
"You're going to lie there like a good little kitten," Sirius demanded, his voice husky
and laced with amusement. "And I am going to eat this whole carton off of your sweet,
silky skin until you are a shivering, writhing mess, and you don't know what parts of you
are hot or cold."
She stared, shocked by both his specific demands and the wanton way her body was
reacting to them. She imagined the absolute hysterical pile of nerves she would be if she
were to allow him to go through with his plans, and Merlin did she want to give in, but
also... she was not a bloody sundae dish.
"Sirius, if you think that you can just—Ah!" Silenced by the feel of an ice-cold silver
spoon pressed against her damp core, the only sounds following her yelp were her short
quick breaths and the dark chuckle in the back of Sirius's throat.
"You didn't really think that a simple apology was going to cut it after today, did
you?" he asked with a smirk. "If I'd kept a secret from you for seven years then dug into
your worst memory on the instruction of a prickish, paranoid Auror, I'd be sleeping on the
sofa. Probably Prongs's sofa, at that. The least you can give me for my troubles, witch," he
said, his voice retreating to a husky whisper, "is to hold still while I enjoy a midnight snack."
Mia whimpered as the words Yes, please ran repeatedly through her subconscious.