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joyful-enchantress · 2 years ago

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Love at First Bite (18+) | Adam (OLLA) x Fem!Reader

banner created by the amazing @springdandelixn

A/N: You’ve been dating Adam for a while and this Valentine’s Day, you take a new step in your relationship. Written as part of the 14 Days of Valentines Collection curated by @muddyorbsblr ❤️ This is my first time writing for Adam. I hope you enjoy!

Genre/Warnings: Smut (18+), fluff too, angst (if you squint), established relationship, language, vampires, biting, mentions of blood, dom/sub dynamics, restraints

Word Count: 3.5k

“It is too dangerous, darling. The answer is still no.”

At his steadfast declination, you turned your lips downward into your most convincing pout, your doe eyes adding to the air of innocence and longing. The demure look on your face was surely a stark contrast to your lascivious body, perched as it was, straddling Adam's lap and clad in nothing save for a pair of black lace panties and one of his tee shirts. “I only want it because I’m so sure you’d never hurt me, Adam.”

Your immortal lover brought his cool fingertips up from where they had been resting on your hip to brush softly against the column of your throat, his eyes meeting yours and swimming with a heady cocktail of solemnity, regret, and... was that desire? “We’re not talking about a hickey, love. I’d pierce your skin, drink your blood. By definition it would hurt you.”

You gave an exasperated sigh. “You know what I mean, Adam. I just know that I’d be safe with you. I trust you with my life.” An almost feline smirk stretched across your crimson lips. “And I can’t stop thinking about how hot it would be. Please, Adam. I want this.”

As you finished your plea, you began to kiss and suck on his neck, working your way from the corner of his chiseled jaw down to the notch between his collarbones, pulling a gravelly moan from his lips in response to your attention. You were fully aware that you were testing his resolve, fraying the edge of it, thread by thread. Hopefully, one day soon, it would finally snap, because you knew that deep down he, too, found the idea of drinking from you incredibly erotic.

He has actually admitted as much to you in the past. The two of you have discussed it before, almost too many times to count over the fourteen months that you've been seeing each other. Understandably, prior to dating Adam, your knowledge of vampires was limited. You'd thought that if he were to ever sink his fangs into you, that there were two options: dying or becoming a vampire yourself. It surprised you to learn that he could bite you, feed from you, without killing you and without turning you. From that moment on, the thought of him doing just that took up occupancy in a dark corner of your mind and never left.

“Darling…” Adam’s husky growl pulled you back to the present moment. “…look at me.”

You reluctantly pulled your lips away from his collarbone and met his gaze with your own.

He seemed to hesitate for just the briefest second, as if he was contemplating a change of heart, before he continued, “I can’t bring myself to do it, to mar this perfect skin…” as he said it, he brushed the pads of his fingers against your throat once again, touching you so gently, as if you were as delicate as a butterfly’s wing. “...you’re my lover, my partner. I love you, I cherish you, I respect you. You’re not a food source.”

You pondered his words for a moment before responding, absentmindedly tracing swirling patterns along the alabaster planes of his bare chest with your lithe fingertips.

“Adam, do we not have sex?”

He looked stunned at your question and scoffed as though it was the most ridiculous question he’d ever been asked. “Of course we do.”

“And is sex not a primal, almost animalistic desire?”

“I suppose so, but —”

You cut him off before he could continue. “So if you have no problem using my body to sate one primal hunger, why are you so morally opposed to using it to sate another?”

Adam's mouth opened as if he wanted to say something in response before it drew shut once more as he considered your words. Seizing the opportunity, you continued, leaning forward to rasp seductively in his ear, "We both already love it when I submit to you in the bedroom. Think of this as a natural extension of that submission... a way for me to yield even more control and power to you, Sir." You felt him shudder as the final word rolled off your tongue.

When you pulled yourself back to look at him once more, you noticed that Adam seemed flustered by your words; he broke eye contact and looked around like he was searching the room for a reply that kept evading him. And if vampires could blush, you thought to yourself, his neck and cheeks would be turning scarlet.

"Adam..." you whispered as you took his face between both of your hands and gently turned his head to look at you. There was a sadness in his eyes when they met yours again. He looked sorry. Guilty, even. "...we don't have to keep discussing this for now. It's okay. I can tell it is upsetting you, and that's not what I want. That's not what I ever want." As you breathed out your loving reassurance, you kissed him softly, willing all of your adoration to cascade over him in a soothing wave of warmth and devotion.

When you finally broke the kiss, Adam spoke again at last, his voice careful and deliberate, as if what he was saying might scare you away.

"Y/N, my love, I would be lying if I told you that your suggestion doesn't sound... divine. My reluctance to grant your request does not stem from a lack of desire, I assure you. In fact, it is just the opposite. I fear that I desire it too strongly -- that I'd enjoy it too much. That I'd be unable to control myself... unable to bring myself to stop."

You held your breath, completely captivated by his words; this was a new revelation -- he was being more honest with you than he'd ever been. If you were being truthful, it did scare you a little. But it didn't make the idea of Adam drinking from you any less arousing.

His eyes swam with unshed tears as he continued.

"I am ashamed, darling. Ashamed of how much I want it." He blinked and one of those tears broke free, toppling over the edge of his cheekbone and leaving a glistening trail down the side of his face. "And I know you trust me with your life, Y/N, but the trouble is, I don't trust myself..."

There was a pregnant pause -- Adam took a deep breath and he slowly swallowed, as if he was pushing down his own fear. What happened next sent a shiver down your spine and a jolt of arousal to your heated core.

His pupils dilated and his sapphire eyes darkened with lust before he continued, "...at least not yet."

--------------------------------------------------------

More than six weeks had passed since that conversation with Adam; it was the last time the delicate subject of him biting you came up. Neither of you mentioned it again after Adam bared his soul to you the way he did and finally admitted the real reason he was so hesitant to grant your salacious wish.

Your thoughts drifted back to that night; after your conversation and Adam's confession, the two of you shared a night of passion that has been burned in your memory ever since. The ferocity, the possessiveness, the raw eroticism. The way he claimed you so roughly, so thoroughly, that you would never again doubt who you belonged to.

Something turned Adam completely feral that night -- the marks of ownership he left on your body lasted nearly a week and the echo of him chanting "Mine..." over and over again like a mantra rang in your ears long after the night ended.

A wave of hot, wet arousal pooled between your thighs at the vivid memory.

A ping from your phone delivered you from your reverie and brought your thoughts back to the present. It was a text from Adam.

Happy Valentine's Day, my love. I cannot wait to see you tonight. I have a surprise for you so don't be late. xx

The loving yet commanding tone of his text message, combined with the filthy images that had just been flashing through your mind, fanned the flames of your already sweltering desire. You hoped that whatever Adam had in store for you tonight would lead to the bedroom.

Glancing at the clock, you realized that you had just over an hour to get ready if you wanted to arrive on time. You'd better get to work.

After showering and ensuring you were properly groomed from head to toe, you slipped on Adam's favorite black mesh lingerie set. The sheer fabric left almost nothing to the imagination, and the strappy accents gave a subtle but sexy nod to the harnesses and cuffs he loved to use on you. You hoped he would use them tonight.

You chose a classic little black dress and leather jacket to wear over the lingerie. The look was complete with a touch of makeup, including blood red lips, and your black Doc Martens. With one last once-over in the mirror, you gave yourself a nod of approval and walked out the door.

When you pulled up to Adam's and approached the front door, you could hear him playing music inside, the vibrations from his amplifier rattling the old house. You pressed your palm lightly against the door, feeling as the wooden panels seemed to thrum with electricity under your touch. There was no need to ring the doorbell -- he'd barely be able to hear it, bathed as he was in his own symphony of sound. Plus, you knew he'd be able to pick up your scent and would come to greet you and welcome you inside.

Not even 30 seconds later, the music came to a stop and you could hear the faint creaking of the floorboards as Adam gracefully descended the staircase and strode towards the front door.

As he swung open the door, he stood before you, clad in faded black jeans and his favorite robe, tied sluttishly loose around his waist so that his bare chest was exposed to your roaming eyes. His own iridescent orbs peered out from behind curtains of jet-black hair and met yours with a simmering intensity that took your breath away. At your reaction, a self-satisfied smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth; no doubt he could hear your quickening heartbeat.

"Hello, darling. Right on time, I see. Good girl." He wrapped you in his arms, pulling you flush against his chest and nuzzling the top of your head. His praise turned you to a puddle for him and dammit, he knew it. Not that you were complaining.

"Hi Adam," you murmured softly, "Happy Valentine's Day."

"Happy Valentine's Day, indeed," he hummed, "Come inside, love, so we can begin celebrating."

You followed him inside, kicking off your shoes and hanging up your jacket in the foyer, and before you knew it, you found yourself in a familiar position -- straddling his lap as he sat on the couch, lips joined together in a passionate kiss. His cool digits danced up the length of your thighs, hiking up the skirt of your dress as they went. The chill of the air meeting your freshly exposed skin caused you to shiver, and Adam took advantage of your momentary distraction to break the kiss and move his attention to your neck, licking and sucking on your pulse point until you moaned for him.

"Adam..." you panted, "I thought you said you had a surprise for me?"

You could feel him smile against your neck, and he chuckled softly before he replied, "Don't worry, my love, you'll find out soon enough."

Your skirt was bunched around your waist at this point, and Adam brought one hand between your thighs and stroked a finger against your mesh-covered heat.

"Mmm... so wet for me already," he growled darkly, "And I see you wore my favorite. Such a good girl. My good girl."

When you let out a high-pitched whimper in response to his touch and his words, he recaptured your mouth with his, pushing his tongue past your teeth and stroking it languidly against your own. You followed his lead and returned the favor, pushing your tongue against his lips to ask for entry, which he easily granted.

As his teeth parted for you, however, you felt a strange movement within his mouth -- something new... something foreign. It felt like his teeth were...growing? In your confusion, you stilled your tongue against his teeth and realized that he was slowly, but surely, protracting his fangs.

He had never done this before. He'd never even let you see his fangs. Your heart pounded against your ribcage like a mallet on a drum and you pulled away so you could look him in the eyes. Instead of the familiar crystalline blue orbs, you were met with a warm reddish-gold. Equally as beautiful, but more menacing, more... hungry.

Did this mean...?

"Are you frightened, darling?" Adam eyed you warily, concern etched all over his devastatingly handsome face. Concern and...lust.

"Yes," you breathed out in a shaky response. "Yes... and no."

"Good..." he breathed in sharply through his nose and you swear you saw the color of his eyes intensify even more as he inhaled your scent. "I'd be worried if you weren't scared at all. A healthy dose of fear is completely normal in this situation and will likely even heighten the experience for you."

You gasped as his words sunk in. Was he finally ready?

“Adam,” you started. “Does this mean what I think it means?”

“I’m ready, Y/N. If this is something that you still want, I’m ready to give it to you.” He brought his hand up to stroke your face, thumb brushing gently across your cheekbone. “I want to drink from you. To taste you in a way I haven’t before.”

“Oh, please, Adam. Yes, I still want this,” you rasped. “I trust you completely.”

At your confirmation, he pressed his lips to yours once more, and stood from the couch, hands cupping your ass as he carried you towards the bedroom with purpose. You wrapped your legs around his waist and gave yourself into the kiss, your whole body humming with anticipation of what was about to happen.

Adam laid you down gently onto the bed and hovered over you, resting his weight on his sinewy forearms. He broke the kiss to give you a chance to catch your breath and when your eyes met his, you saw something else lurking beneath the reddish-gold blanket of hunger and lust. Reverence. He was in awe that you were willing to let him do this, to submit to him and give yourself to him in this way.

“Darling, before we go any further, I need you to know that I love you,” he proclaimed, his voice husky with desire. “I love you so much, and I promise to keep you safe.”

“I know, Adam, I love you too.”

“I’m going to time my bite so that it coincides with your release. That way, the surge of endorphins will help with the pain.”

“I’m not worried about the pain, Adam, I —“

He cut you off before you could finish. “I am. At least for this first time. There’s nothing I can do to stop it completely but if I can lessen the pain then I’m going to.”

There was no room for argument, so you simply nodded your understanding.

“There’s one other thing, my love…” Adam began, “…if it is alright with you, I think it might be better if I restrain you.”

“Restrain me?” A shudder ran through you, your natural sense of self-preservation kicking in. Despite your earlier hope that he would use cuffs and harnesses on you tonight, this didn’t feel like the time.

“I know what it sounds like, but it is actually to ensure your safety even more. I trust myself, but I do think that any sort of struggle might trigger my more… predatory instincts. I’m sure I can control them, but why test that theory? Again, at least for this first time.”

Your heart fluttered with excitement at the fact that not once, but twice now, he alluded to there being a next time.

“Okay then. Yeah, let’s take every precaution,” you breathed out with a heavy sigh. The weight of the situation was taking its toll on your energy level.

Adam worked quickly to remove your dress and all of his own clothing before he secured your wrists to the corners of the headboard with silken rope. You were quite literally spread out for him. Like a meal.

He began kissing you then, beginning with your lips and moving shortly to your neck, worshipping you like a goddess as he licked and sucked his way from your chin to your shoulder, pulling breathy moans from you as he went. Without interrupting his oral ministrations, he swiftly removed your panties with one hand. You lifted your hips and legs to help him pull them down and completely off your body.

That same hand of his came back up to cup your sex. He groaned as he dipped his fingers between your glistening folds, gathering up your slick wetness before moving his attention to your aching clit.

“Oh, Adam…” you whimpered desperately. “I want you. I need you. Please.”

“Shhh, sweet girl, I’ve got you.”

As he said the words, he lined himself up at your entrance and slowly thrust his rigid cock into your waiting pussy.

“Fuck —“ he gasped, “so fucking tight. I’ll never tire of claiming your perfect little cunt.”

You clenched around him, pulling a deep, guttural groan from his chest.

As he began rutting his hips, grinding against you and into you, you could tell that you were close. That familiar coil was tightening at the base of your abdomen and it wouldn’t take long at this rate for it to snap.

“Adam, I’m — ahh — I’m close!” You managed to piece together the words between pants.

“Are you ready?” He asked you soberly, one final check that he had your consent.

“Yes, Adam. Please drink from me.”

And that was all the confirmation he needed.

He reached between your bodies and moved his dexterous fingers against your clit once more, pulling you towards the precipice of pleasure and hurdling you over the edge.

At the same time that he felt you come, squeezing his cock like a vice, he brought his lips to the spot where your shoulder met your neck and bit down. Hard. Sinking his fangs into your supple flesh, savoring the blood that pooled on his tongue.

He found his release not long after, coating your walls in his seed.

Amidst the throes of your orgasm, you could feel the sharp pain when he bit you. The pain was worse than you thought it would be and for a moment you were frightened. Had you made a mistake?

But then, as quickly as it came, the pain faded away; it melted into ecstasy as he drank from you. You reveled in his moans of pleasure at the taste of you on his tongue.

After a few swallows, he pulled away from your neck and peered down at you; you watched as his fangs retracted and his eyes began to return to their usual shade of blue. A few drops of your blood still clung to his lips and you were somewhat surprised to realize that you found the sight to be one of the most erotic you’d ever seen.

Once he came back to himself, he scrambled to untie your wrists and wrapped your body, limp and spent as it was, in his arms.

“My sweet, darling girl…” he lovingly whispered. “You were so good for me. So brave. So selfless. And you taste even more divine than I had imagined. Thank you for trusting me. And thank you for being patient and waiting for me to be ready, even though you’ve wanted to try this for so long.”

“I love you, Adam,” were the only words you were able to form at the moment.

As you lay there, coming back down from your high and recovering your depleted energy, Adam tended to you. He massaged your wrists and shoulders to soothe any ache left behind from the restraints, and he lifted you and carried you into the en-suite bathroom where he lowered you into the tub that had already begun to fill with warm water.

The wound on your neck was not very deep. He cleaned it thoroughly and bandaged it up for you.

“Thank you Adam,” you finally managed to say.

He chuckled, “You’re welcome, darling. I thoroughly enjoyed myself, but I had no doubt that I would enjoy it. Did you like it as much as you thought you would?”

You basked for a moment in how sated you felt physically and how closely, intimately, connected to him you felt emotionally.

Then you looked up at him and with a cheeky smile you replied, “It was love at first bite.”

Tagging some lovely people who might be interested. No pressure though if not! @lokisgoodgirl @give-me-a-moose @fictive-sl0th @thomase1 @coldnique @maple-seed @tallseaweed @cheekyscamp @simplyholl @sarahscribbles @loopsisloops @mochie85 @cake-writes @holymultiplefandomsbatman @springdandelixn @gigglingtigger @vbecker10 @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @lokiprompts @mischief2sarawr @peachyjinx

#14 days of valentines collection #adam olla #adam olla x reader #adam olla x you #adam olla imagine #adam olla smut #adam olla x female reader #adam olla fanfic #adam olla fanfiction #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston characters #vampire romance #adam olla fluff #adam only lovers left alive #only lovers left alive #adam olla x yn

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colorsunimaginable · 8 months ago

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the spare // chapter sixty-eight // death eater ! tom hiddleston oc x plus size ofc - voldemort wins au

story summary:

While on a mission to avenge the death of her best friend, Ilvermorny graduate Melisa Alder finds herself in the middle of the fight to defeat Voldemort. Upon capture after the Dark Lord's triumph, she's being sold at an auction with other muggle borns and blood traitors. Her only hope is also her only bidder - the tall, dark, and handsome Thomus Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy's younger half-brother. Is he just another Death Eater or is he hiding more than just his face beneath the mask? Will she realize her true potential to be one of the resistance's greatest weapons?

*a Voldemort Wins AU with Tom Hiddleston cast as an OC x a plus size protagonist* *takes place in The Auction universe by Lovesbitca8*

words for this fic: 6.7k warnings for this chapter: p in v, fingering, dirty talk

a million boops to my beta reader banners by @cafekitsune

CHAPTER MASTERLIST

Chapter Sixty-Eight:

Cliveden’s gardens at night in the winter are beautiful. They’re vast and eerily empty, though that could just be the stillness of the night. Victorian lamp posts light the way and with the gently falling snow, kinda gives me Narnia vibes.

I wander around, careful to stick to the crunchy gravel paths and keep the main house in sight. This isn’t the first time I’ve had such an opportunity for escape. Yeah, I could Apparate anywhere, but why? Now that a plan will be in place, what’s the point? It’s exactly what I wanted.

Movement draws my eye and I catch Diana’s head above the shrubbery, heading in my direction. I’m not ready to go inside yet, so I sit on a nearby bench and wait for her to join me.

“Did they send you to make sure I was still here?” I ask, mostly teasing.

“Kyle did,” she admits as she sits next to me. She’s all bundled up in a stylish thick wool coat while I’m just fine in my Ilvermorny sweater and Thomus’ scarf. “But that’s alright, I’d much rather talk to you.”

Instantly my guard's up. “About what?”

She hesitates for a moment, but I give her my best encouraging expression, despite my raging nerves.

“Well, I wanted to ask how you feel about Thomus.”

I blink, my eyebrows shooting up. “Oh, um, well, I -”

“It’s just that Jake seems to think you genuinely care about him because of how adamant you are about his safety,” she says. “Now that I’ve met you and I’ve seen you two together, I think he’s right, but I wonder if it’s more than that.”

I think about my answer for a few moments, but respond with a question instead. “Is this because you two used to date?”

She immediately shakes her head and chuckles. “Definitely not. It didn’t last longer than a month or two and it was a long time ago.”

“Did-did he break up with you?” I ask with some hesitation.

“I dumped him actually,” she says. “He just… When we hung out or went on dates, his mind always seemed like it was elsewhere. The only time he seemed fully present and invested was when we…” she trails off.

“When what?” I prompt.

She gives me a sheepish expression. “Sorry, it might be a bit TMI.”

I shrug and shake my head. “Don’t worry. There’s no such thing as TMI for me. I need everything.” Even if that information guts me. I’d always rather know.

“When we were sleeping together,” she says all in one breath.

I don’t say anything, waiting to hear more. “Oh, is that it?”

Her eyebrows tilt up in sympathy. “I suppose if I were in your situation I wouldn’t want to hear about it.”

“Yeah,” I say, looking down. “I can see that. Do you know what he was so focused on?”

“Well, I know his mother had passed away a few months before and then there was… her .”

“Bellatrix,” I sigh knowingly.

“He visited her every couple weeks - no matter what. I didn’t even know he was still going after we started dating. When I confronted him, he insisted there was nothing physical going on between them, but I… had my doubts. He told me he stopped going after that, but I know he went back after it ended,” she explains. “Does he still see her often?”

“I… have no idea honestly.”

“Have you not asked?”

I shake my head. “Why would I?”

“Because you two are…” she sighs. “It’s complicated, I know.”

“There’s a massive power imbalance between us and I’m not going to let myself forget that, regardless of how I feel.”

“What about how he feels?” she asks gently.

“If anything he feels is real, then why am I still his prisoner?” I answer a little too quickly. “He doesn’t see me as his equal. I don’t want to belong to him like I’m some kind of possession. I want a partner willing to rely on me as I want to rely on them in return. How can anyone be devoted to an object?” I finish by inhaling sharply, having taken short breaths during my lament.

Her lips press together as she regards me with a cautious look. “The world has really changed since Harry Potter died,” she says. “No one is doing well - especially muggleborns. No one has been able to fly under the radar since they started implementing some kind of forced registry.” She pauses and then chuckles. “And you would not be able to go unnoticed.”

I sigh. “It’s the hair isn’t it?”

“Actually, no,” she says. “You’d be surprised how popular some of these articles about you have been.”

Now this, I’m taken aback. "Articles? As in more than one?"

"I'm afraid so. The best one is from the New York Ghost , but Witch Weekly's was pretty nice. Does someone have it out for you at The Daily Prophet , by any chance?"

"Probably Rita Skeeter," I grumble. I want to know what they've been saying about me. "Though I'm surprised I was interesting enough for one article, let alone multiple."

"I disagree," she says. "I think what you're doing is very brave. You haven't given up despite all these odds stacked against you. Honestly, I was really excited to meet you when I heard you were coming."

I blush, laughing awkwardly. "I, um, I'm sorry, I definitely had no idea you existed until tonight. Thank you for inviting me to that thing on New Years Eve, even though I can't go. It reminded me of what being normal was like."

"No problem!" she smiles. "I would've been glad to have you. You’re super cool and totally normal.” She winks at me and quietly laughs to herself. “But seriously, you should consider thinking that he might just want to keep you safe, where he can protect you.”

“But I can protect myself ,” I gently protest. “It’s because I’ve been under his ‘care’ that I’ve been vulnerable! He has to realize that.”

Her eyes soften with sympathy. “I think he does, because there was one weekend Jake told me about. He’d just met you and Thomus in Edinburgh and you’d been… assaulted while they’d all just been standing there, unknowing. He said he’d never seen Thomus be that violent before - violent without using magic that is.”

I stare at her eye-wided, enthralled with this story. This change in perspective.

“And then the next night, there’d been this party Thomus got drunk at and Jake said he could tell something was really bothering him. Apparently, he was really reluctant to talk about it, too.”

I scoff. “I hope he got over himself and opened up so you can share this information with me now.”

“Yeah, so he finally said he blamed himself for being an idiot and not paying better attention. Like, it really hit him that your safety was in his hands.”

I… don’t know what I’m allowed to feel. My heart wants to swoon and my mind wants to roll its eyes. Except, if he’s not as terrible as I thought, am I allowed to hope?

“I think I remember when he came home,” I admit. “We continued drinking and he asked me how I felt - which was very new for us at the time.”

Diana smiles ruefully. “Does he get points for trying, at least?”

“We’ll see,” I say. “I’m definitely nervous that it could all just be a… fling to him.”

Diana startles me by releasing a loud cackle.

“A fling?!” she bellows, struggling to catch her breath. “Oh honey, you’re delusional.”

“What? No!” I protest. “I’m being realistic.”

“Oh Lady Morgana,” she says, wiping tears from her eyes and standing. “Come on, let’s go inside before my fingers fall off.”

~*~

By the early hours of the morning, I’m utterly exhausted.

Kyle had changed his mind and decided to tell me his roughly outlined plan. It’s not terrible, but luckily the rough bits still have time to be hammered out. I should have plenty of notice before I have to leave, plenty of time for contingencies.

Thomus is out like a light, still snoring softly, when I return. I try to be as quiet as possible as I strip down to my undies and crawl into the massive four-poster bed with him.

It must not be massive enough, though, because just me softly rolling into position beneath the covers is enough to rouse a few sleepy words from him.

“Darling?” he rasps and I feel his hands reach for me in the dark.

“Hi,” I whisper. “Sorry I woke you.”

He hums and pulls himself closer, resting his head on my chest. “How did we get back to the cottage?” he says sleepily, curling himself against me.

“We didn’t,” I say, running a hand through his hair and the other over his shoulders. “We’re still at Cliveden.”

“Hm, I don’t remember getting here.”

His tone isn’t setting off any alarm bells. It’s low and gravelly, like he’s not entirely awake yet. He’s just mindlessly chatting and I just have to be casual.

“Well, you were very drunk,” I say. “You passed out playing Exploding Snap. Jake had to levitate you up here.”

His arm around my waist tightens, pulling me tighter against him. “You didn’t leave.”

I don’t say anything, panic instantly spiking my heart rate, and I hope he’s not awake enough to pay attention.

“You could have, but you didn’t,” he continues. “Not that I’d blame you if you did.”

I stay silent, trying to convince myself that his calm demeanor is because whatever he’s talking about, couldn’t be about the drama of the night. There's no way he was awake enough to hear what we said.

“No,” I murmur. “I didn’t.”

“What room did he put us in?” he murmurs.

I let out a sudden strained laugh. “You’d never guess.”

~*~

On New Year’s Eve, Thomus leaves again. He says it’s to finish last minute tasks for the Gala and whatnot and I feel… depressed… again. I’m mostly uninterested in eating - I ate a bologna and cheese sandwich for dinner. I’m not in the mood to read, listen to music or watch any movies, but I’ve had The Nanny on all day - just to make the house less quiet.

So I just go to bed at the blessed hour of 8pm.

I’ve barely been in bed for longer than fifteen minutes when the easily recognizable sound of the Floo roaring to life drifts up the stairs. I’ve sat up by the time Thomus finds me.

“In bed already?” he asks, surprised. “On New Year's Eve?”

I shrug, holding the blanket up to my naked chest. “It’s not the easiest holiday to spend by yourself.”

Thomus sits on the edge of the bed, swiftly leaning in to kiss my cheek. “And I don’t intend for you to, I agree completely.” He jumps up, taking long strides through the bathroom to my room, where I hear him opening the wardrobe. I sigh, scooting to the edge to throw my legs over it. It’s just my luck I was already in bed.

“A little warning might have been nice,” I say when he returns, arm cradling a black hoodie and black leggings.

He takes one look at me and the next moment he’s tossing my clothes on the bed and crowding into my space. His large hands cradle my head as he braces me for his lips on mine. He leans in and I have to prop my arms behind me so we don’t fall backward. Of course this causes the blanket to fall and his hand swoops down to cup and grope my chest, the attention causing my nipples to harden.

His kisses take my breath away and my thighs are quick to part for him. His hips slide right into the space provided, grinding his hard-on against me. My kisses slacken because all of my attention goes right to my throbbing clit and I desperately whimper.

His hips rock against me one more time before he pulls away, both of us breathless. His eyes trail down my body as he speaks. “We don’t have much time,” he says. “I will have to savor you later.”

When he steps completely away from me, I’m left cold, so I quickly slide on the oversized hoodie as he adjusts himself in his pants.

“Savor me?” I ask when I stand, stepping into the pants one leg at a time.

He chuckles, watching me wiggle the waistband up over my hips and stomach. “I thought it was a bit more romantic than fuck.”

Ping . There goes the tiniest fracture in my heart for him. I scramble for something clever or funny to say.

“I suppose it could’ve been worse,” I say, popping in a British accent for the last word. “You could’ve said shag .”

“Cute,” he smirks.

I follow him downstairs, sliding on my socks before I stop at the door for my sneakers and turn for the fireplace.

He clicks his tongue. “Not that way.”

I narrow my eyes and follow him out the door. He takes me to the spot beyond the fence and touches the tattoo before Apparating us to the Manor. The front gates are open and he swiftly takes hold of my tattoo again to get me over the barrier.

We walk down the entrance path, under gilded arches and golden fairy lights crossing overhead from the tall hedges. Holding my hand, he pulls me around the building along the back toward a door being held open by an elf.

“Miss,” Remmy says to me in a disinterested greeting and drops his voice to a whisper. “Master Thomus, Mistress expects you in fifteen minutes. Master isn’t even dressed -”

“Don’t worry, Remmy, I will be there,” Thomus reassures them as we pass. “Mums the word about Miss Alder, remember?”

“Yes, yes, Remmy remembers,” the elf dismisses.

Thomus leads me to his room, making sure to use hallways noticeably absent of chatty portraits. A familiar route because of the many times I'd avoided them myself. The moment we’re in his room, he heads for the bathroom, already stripping. There’s a black robed suit hanging from a hook on the door.

“Please tell me you're not gonna surprise me with a ball gown, are you?” I ask, hopping up onto the bed and toeing my shoes off.

“I value my neck, thanks,” he remarks, pulling on first his suit pants, then the black button up shirt. “Would you grab me a pair of cufflinks from the closet?”

“Does it matter which one?” I ask, knowing he's got a variety.

“No.”

By the time I emerge from the closet, elegant silver M stamped cufflinks in hand, he’s already dressed. He smiles at me as I pass him the tiny pieces of metal.

“All you have to do is wait for a few hours,” he says, his mood curiously… cheerful? “Go back to sleep if you'd like - just don't leave this room. Only Remmy knows you're here.”

“Why all the fuss?” I ask, my eyes greedily taking his suited form in. I suppress the desire to pull him close by his silk tie for a kiss. He looks too suave and sophisticated and… way out of my league.

“For the simple reason that I don’t want certain guests to know you’re here,” he explains, stepping into the bathroom once again. I hear him spritz a bottle of something.

“And why is that again?”

He glides out of the bathroom, passing me by with a quick peck to my cheek. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”

I completely ignore the fact he didn’t answer my question, because I’m way too distracted by his suddenly fragrant cologne. I breathe in lung-fulls of cedar and pine, trying not to swoon in his wake as he pulls out his wand to light the fireplace.

Then he’s gone, the door audibly locking behind him.

~*~

Well, I definitely try to sleep. Except I wasn’t even tired when I climbed into bed the first time.

First I change into a purple wispy nightgown with a deep vee in the neck that stops at my thighs. Then I change out of it when the frills around the short sleeves become too itchy under the covers, opting instead for a simpler one with long sleeves and a hem that falls around my ankles.

All this, just to be uncomfortable in every position I try. Nevermind the fact my mind keeps doing laps of worrying, wondering who exactly Thomus doesn’t want to know I’m here. Rodolphus? Bellatrix? Is he dancing and flirting with her while her husband tracks me down this very moment?

Finally I give up and decide to grab a handful of Thomus’ old Daily Prophets and settle on the cushioned bench in the alcove of one of his windows. I sit sideways on it, my back against the wall with the door in my line of sight.

I’m about to cast a subtle illumination spell to help my poor eyesight in this dim lighting when movement out the window catches my eye. It’s the curtains billowing out of the open doors to the ball room - or the large drawing room as Narcissa calls it. Golden light spills from windows and the doorway as the guests' shadows and silhouettes move within. Some are moving swiftly as if dancing while some are mingling. Before I can think better of it, I’m pushing open the French window closest to me.

I hear boisterous laughter and the low hum of chatter, and best of all, music drifts up to me like a leaf in the breeze. It’s the exact kind of music I’d imagine would play at a ball like this, and I can’t help but picture myself down there, in some pretty dress twirling around the room with Thomus.

I sit there, content to listen to the string quartet and people watch. Some come outside for the cool air, others to have a private word alone with each other.

Hermione is relatively easy to spot. Her black gown is ridiculously puffy around the skirt, but synched skin-tight in the bodice, and even from here I can see the jewels glittering on her chest. I’m surprised to see Draco by her side, dressed head to toe in white. They linger by the door, always surrounded by ladies vying for his attention. I can’t help but notice how his hand slowly caresses her back, almost… lovingly from her waist up to her shoulders and nape when he thinks no one is watching.

Thankfully, I don’t see Bellatrix, but I also don’t see Thomus, either. An inconsequential fact I try not to linger on.

I don’t know how long I sit like that, but eventually Thomus returns, quietly stepping into the room with two empty champagne glasses and a bottle.

“I kinda feel like Cinderella wanting to go to the ball,” I say softly as he approaches. He looks politely puzzled and before he can ask, I explain, “It’s just a No-Maj fairytale.”

“Ah,” he hums. He takes hold of the forgotten newspapers on the other side of the bench and raises an eyebrow.

I feel a blush creep up my throat and try to keep my tone nonchalant. “I… maybe like to read your articles,” I say. “It’s crazy to think we both spent time at The Daily Prophet , but at different times so we never ran into each other.”

I feel like I’m rambling, but how could I not? He looks and smells far too dashing for me to think clearly.

“It is a bit ironic,” he says, replacing his papers where I’d gotten them from before returning. He takes up the rest of the bench, his back to the window, and places the glasses and bottle on the floor next to him.

“Do you think things might’ve been different if we’d met there instead?” I ask hesitantly, knowing all too well his opinions on ‘what if’s. “Before?”

Thomus sighs heavily and the air puffs out his cheeks. He raises an eyebrow and gives me a sideways look. “Honestly?”

I nod. “Yeah, always.”

“Hm, I think…” his mouth downturns as he speaks, his voice betraying his amusement. “I’d find you the most annoying person on the planet.”

A disbelieving laugh bursts out. “What?!”

He nods, completely solemn. “Oh yeah, always asking questions, always bothering me.”

“Oh no, I’d have to talk to you about our job ,” I say with dramatic sarcasm, trying and failing to keep the smile off my face. “Oh no, what a nightmare.”

Thomus grabs my ankle, lifting my foot so he can shift closer, until my calf rests on his opposite thigh. That hand slides from my ankle all the way up my leg, and I’m disappointed it’s not under my nightgown. “It would have been an absolute nightmare to have you prance into my office every bloody day,” he continues as his fingers meet the crease at my hip and wedge themselves in. Then they keep traveling and grip all the plentiful flesh there. “I’d never be able to get any work done because I’d constantly be thinking about bending you over my desk.”

My eyes run laps over the sharp lines of his face, trying to determine if he’s serious. “Is that so?”

Thomus’ eyes drop to my mouth, his free hand brings his thumb to brush my lower lip. “These would be the worst. With every meddlesome question you ask, I’d only be able to think about how they’d taste.”

I’m holding my breath - my heart thudding, my ears burning. I’m suddenly very unnecessarily conscious of how far my glasses have slipped down my nose, the cool breeze from the window across my chest, and how heavy I’m breathing over his thumb. And for some reason his accent is doing funny things to my insides right now, of all times.

His voice is low, husky, and oh, so hot. “I’d be thinking about how you’d sound when I touched you. And yes, I say when . I could only endure such torture for so long before I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off you.”

I snort, a disbelieving smile breaking out under his thumb. “You make me sound like some kind of irresistible vixen.” A chuckle rumbles out of his chest, but I keep going. “Well, I have good news for you - I wouldn’t object to any of that.”

“Is that so?” His hand caresses from my jaw to my neck.

I bite my lip to control my grin. “Well, yeah. Why do you think I’d be bothering you so much in the first place?”

Thomus lets out a breathy chuckle and sits back, his eyes crinkling in the corners. I can only stare, mesmerized by seeing genuine happiness on his face.

“So,” I say brightly. “Are you enjoying this party you put so much effort into preparing?”

His smile fades. “Not as much as I ought to, I suppose.”

“Oh, why not?” I ask, placing my hand over his one on my neck, feeling along the lines of his knuckles and fingers.

“The people down there…” he starts, eyes gazing out the window, “the only thing I’ve ever been to them is a source for gossip and scandal. And then the few who look past all that see the Malfoy name and nothing else.”

I let that process. “So what you’re saying is you’re a real catch?”

He bursts out laughing, the hand from my hip reaching up to scratch his chin. “Yeah, for those desperate to social climb.”

“So you’re a desperately eligible bachelor ?” I tease with a bit more drama to my tone. “How interesting. All the finest debutantes must be lining up down there, so what ever are you doing up here with me?”

“I’m a little old for debutantes.” He settles toward me into a more relaxing position, pulling his knee up and pressing his calf onto the bench under my thighs. With his face closer to mine now, his softly spoken words are loud and clear. “And besides, your company is vastly preferable over theirs.”

My face floods with heat and I crumble under his direct eye contact. My mouth suddenly feels as dry as the desert while I’m forced to figure out some kind of intelligent reply. “Quite shocking, really,” I say, my voice a whisper until I clear my throat, swallowing down some nerves. “Who wouldn’t want to hang out with the wizarding world’s most crankiest?”

He laughs again. “Are you talking about me or them?”

I’m about to answer, but a dull tapping sound coming from the party draws my attention. The guests are returning inside, tapping their wands against their champagne glasses.

“Ten minutes to midnight,” Thomus explains. “Lucius and Narcissa are about to make their toast.”

I slip my other hand around the one he has at my neck, both of mine cradling it near my chest as I glance at the clock on his mantle. “I guess that means you have to go?”

“Probably,” he admits slowly. “But I’m here.”

“Hold on, speaking of being here, isn’t Draco supposed to be in Switzerland?” I jut in, my eyes easily finding him and Hermione on the edge of the crowd.

“He is and Lucius is absolutely furious,” he sighs. “I can’t believe he’d be so foolish.”

“Well, it's obvious, right?” I ask, side-eying him, unsure if this is something I could even talk about. “He’s like, really into Hermione.”

A few moments tick by in silence as I stare at the crowd below. I glance at him to see his eyes had been on me the whole time, his expression pensive. When our eyes meet, he holds them for a moment before his gaze follows his hand as both of his gently hold mine instead. He pulls back my left sleeve, his fingers lightly tracing his name inked on my skin. Then he goes further, tracing the white puckered lines of the scar Bellatrix left me.

“What’re you thinking about?” I whisper.

His lips curl ruefully. “I’m thinking about how much of a hypocrite I am. I’ve called him foolish when here I am,” he says. “Unable to stay away.”

“From what?” I breathe, feeling stupid the moment I finish. My heart is beating so hard I wonder if he can feel my pulse where he holds my arm.

Thomus’ eyes hold on my arm, avoidant of my own. His voice is soft like he's telling me a secret. “I snuck you in tonight because I couldn’t bear not spending it with you.”

My eyebrows come together and I feel my head shake. “It’s just another year.”

“No,” he says, his eyes flashing up to mine, adamant. “Moments like these are important, to spend with those who are important. That’s why they’re all gathered down there, isn’t it? To go into the New Year praising the Dark Lord’s reign, congratulating themselves for their accomplishments this year.” He looks back down at our hands, at his name. “I know I don’t have much to celebrate in that regard, but I do know that you’re important to me… and frankly I'm tired of pretending otherwise.”

I can only stare at him. Unable to think, unable to breathe . How could he say something like that?

When I finally have to draw breath after what feels like an eternity, I only get to say his name. “Thomus -”

The loud popping of fireworks bursts from below, along with some cheer that has me turning my gaze away only briefly. I turn back and Thomus’ mouth descends on mine.

The kiss is full and wonderful, but short. He pulls back inches away to search into my gaze, like he’s asking for permission, like he’s making sure what he just said was okay.

It was more than okay. It’s exactly what my heart wants to hear, even though my own stubborn insecurities push doubt into my mind.

I can’t say anything back. I can’t tell him how I feel.

But I can show him.

Our lips meet again in a rush. At least it feels like that to me, like we just can’t bare being apart anymore. I pour my heart and soul into this kiss. My hands find their way into his hair, his caress and grip every part of my body he can reach.

Soon I’m pushing him back so I can climb onto his lap. He’s pulled up my nightgown and the cool air feels amazing on my bare legs. I’ve got one foot on the floor and the other is bent at the knee, helping control my balance while I’m grinding on him.

He keeps pulling me to him, my weight rocking into him, and I brace a hand on the wall in the bay window as he falls further back, keeping me upright. His hands slip under my nightgown, roaming my thighs. I adjust my hips, feeling brave enough to put both hands on his chest to steady me. His suit pants can’t hide how hard he is. I try to use that as a reminder he’s genuinely into me. No matter how many times I’m in his lap, it’s still hard to believe he wants me here.

“How long till you have to go back?” I ask with controlled breaths.

He growls. “Just fuck me, baby.” His fingers painfully dig into my hips as he pulls me down, undulating his hips against me. “I don’t want to be anywhere else.”

There are things I want to blurt out, simple little words swelling in my chest that threaten to ruin everything.

But if I confess how I feel, it wouldn’t change anything. I’ll still be his prisoner. His possession.

I don’t wanna be an object. I long to be more .

My hands slide up his chest to meet at his neckline, shoving my fingers into the knot on his tie. I don’t bother pulling it all the way off before I go at his buttons, not stopping until his muscled chest and abdomen are revealed. My hips rock, rubbing my pussy over his cock straining to be let free.

Then I jump up, standing to shimmy my undies to the floor. Thomus sits up and shrugs off his suit jacket, pulling off his tie completely. I pause, waiting to return to my seat, but then he looks at me, his eyes raking me up and down.

“I want that off,” he says, referring to the only article of clothing I have left.

I struggle not to make a face, because I still have a hard time being completely naked in front of him. If we were in bed, that would be different. This just feels too exposed.

I grip the material around my hips and step toward him. “Take it off for me?” I ask.

Lust-filled eyes lock on mine and his hands go to my thighs, sliding them up my sides, taking the gown with them. I raise my arms to help him pull it off the rest of the way and a blast of cool air from the window makes goosebumps rise all over me. It sends a shiver through my body and my nipples harden.

When my arms are free, I step even closer and cup his face, pressing my lips to his. I kiss him softly, from one corner of his mouth to the other. While I distract his mouth with sweet kisses, one hand takes off my glasses and the other goes to his belt.

Of course, I can only use one brain cell at a time, so my mouth becomes distracted when I struggle with undoing his belt. I just pull my mouth away all together so I can get a visual on my hands. I glance up at Thomus’ face to find his heated gaze focused on mine.

“Sorry,” I mutter, looking down at the matter at hand. “Not very sexy, I know.”

“Oh, on the contrary,” he says and inhales sharply when my hands finally wrap around his swollen cock. My palms glide up and down gently before giving it a firm squeeze. My thumb circles his head, spreading a bead of pre-cum, and he leans forward, lips and tongue tracing a path from my neck to my breasts. One of his big hands cups my breast and when he immediately bites down on my nipple, I gasp and whimper. His tongue soothes away the pain, swirling around the stiff peak.

His other hand slides down my thigh, fingers feeling the dimples and divots until they hook behind my knee. My hands go to his shoulders for balance as he lifts my foot until it’s on the bench. His fingers quickly glide back up my thigh, this time underneath it to where it’s most sensitive and softest.

Thomus’ lips release my nipple and he pulls back enough to see my face. “I think you’re very sexy,” he murmurs. “From this pretty little pussy of yours” - his fingers glide through my folds, teasingly spreading the slipperiness from the center to my clit - “to those lips I just can’t seem to get enough of.”

His thumb presses in on my clit and my train of thought struggles to stay on track. “You’re pretty hot too,” I say breathily. “You’ve got these shoulders and thighs and hands that just -” My words are cut off by a moan when he slips two fingers inside me.

“That just what?” he teases, unmistakably smug.

It takes me a moment to answer because his thumb in combination with his fingers curling against my g-spot have my hips rocking and my brain turning to mush. My breaths come in short pants and my eyes are pinched closed, focused on riding the pleasurable waves his fingers are orchestrating.

“Concentrate, darling,” he presses. “Answer me.”

“Hands,” I gasp, my fingers digging into his shoulders, “hands that do terrible… awful things to me.”

His fingers turn aggressive, pressing harder and rhythmic as he hums in approval. “That’s a good girl.”

His lips return to my nipple and that pushes me past the point of no return. A stream of curses and Thomus’ name tumble from my mouth. My toes curl and my body goes stiff as my orgasm washes over me. Thomus slows his long fingers, but still presses in hard on my g-spot as my pussy pulses around him.

When I can finally breathe again, I push at Thomus’ shoulders and he leans back, bringing his drenched digits up to his mouth. He groans at my taste and resituates himself on the bench, pushing his pants and briefs past his thighs. I’m still dazed from my orgasm when Thomus pulls me on top of him. He holds his cock at the base and guides me until he’s sliding home, deep inside my pussy.

“Oh fuck,” I moan, my eyes closing. This position never fails to put him as deep inside as possible, and if I really sit on his lap, he’s hitting my cervix. But that would be painful, so instead I move my hips around slowly, figuring out what angle works best and won’t kill my thighs. One particular move makes him groan and my eyes flutter open to find his locked intently on me, watching my body move. I definitely found the right one.

I start to go a little faster, a little harder. I have a hand on a window pane and the other grasping his shoulder to stabilize me. My thighs are burning, but the pain isn’t enough to make me stop. He’s inside me, and I love being connected like this. What I feel for him never feels more real than it does in moments like this. When I can’t be in denial.

With the increasing intensity of my hips, little whimpers start to tumble from my mouth alongside my panting. My bottom lip is nailed between my teeth and as I can feel my orgasm hurtling towards me, fuck is the only word coming out of my mouth.

Whenever he feels they could use more attention, his hands never fail to stray to my breasts. Supporting them as they bounce and sway, leaning forward to kiss and nibble at my nipples.

“So fucking beautiful,” I hear him grind out above the steady and erotic sound of our bodies joining.

My orgasm is close - so, so close. I’m starting to go crazed, desperate to cum again. Thomus is, too. I can hear it in his voice as he groans.

“Baby, I need you to cum on me.” His voice is strained like he’s in utter agony.

I let out a frustrated whimper as I pause to grind on his lap, hoping for an angle that hits my clit.

“I need - can you - ?” I gasp out.

I don’t even have to finish my sentence before his fingers wiggle in under my belly. My pussy’s so slippery, the pads of his fingers find the hood of my clit and press in, rubbing it in circles. My hips jerk, bouncing up and down on his cock, continuing even as my orgasm finally crashes over my body. I throw my head back as my back arches. His body stiffens below me as he cums, groaning out his pleasure.

“Beautiful darling, well done,” he pants with praise after we both have a chance to breathe, his voice shaking. “I lov-”

Thomus is abruptly cut off by loud banging on his door.

We both jump like we’ve been hit. There’s a moment where our eyes meet and I see panic cross his face just as it does on mine.

“Thomus!” a familiar man’s voice calls from beyond the door.

Thomus blinks, his expression hardening. He brings a finger up to his lips, warning me to be quiet. “Closet,” he whispers. “Go. Now.”

Nodding, my legs are like jelly as I push myself off of him. He’s hastily throwing on his suit as I bend to scoop up my nightgown and undies. I dash for the closet. It’s dark enough I can just hide behind the open door. Instead of the nightgown though, I opt for my pants and hoodie. Plus a pair of Thomus’ socks while I’m at it because mine are lost in the sheets somewhere.

While I’m desperately dressing, the man at the door calls for Thomus again. “Where have you been, Thomus? I’ve been sent to fetch your ungrateful ass.”

I squeeze behind the closet door to peek through the crack between the hinges just as Thomus strides to the door. He’s fully dressed and smoothing back his hair with his fingers. He pauses to take a deep breath before opening the door.

It’s Rodolphus.

“What do you want,” Thomus demands, sounding amazingly composed.

Rodolphus leans a hand on the doorframe. “You missed your brother’s toast,” he says, a mocking lilt to his tone. His hair is disheveled, the tie to his tux hangs loose around his neck. “How could you have missed this moment to show support for the Dark Lord? Your family? ”

“I don’t answer to you,” Thomus says. He keeps his back straight and his chin up.

Rodolphus puts a finger to his chin, tapping it. “And then I remembered a few other times you’ve mysteriously disappeared from similar events,” Rodolphus continues before abruptly shoving past Thomus into the room. Thomus tries grabbing his coat tails, but he somehow avoids him.

Rodolphus stops in the middle of the room, eyeing it while slowly turning back to Thomus. He inhales heavily through his nose and steps back towards the window with the bench. “A moment ago, I was convinced you were up here fucking my wife,” he says casually. He reaches for something on it and my anxiety explodes in my chest the moment I see him pick up my glasses. “Of course, I was only half-right. This room reeks of sex, but my wife has never hid.”

Rodolphus drops my glasses and stomps on them with his shoe, crushing my lenses under his sole. The glass crunches as he turns, backing up towards the closet. Thomus watches him with furious eyes. His hands are empty, but I know in the blink of an eye he’d have his wand.

“I’m surprised you can still get it up for her since her… accident ,” Rodolphus taunts. “She’s utterly repulsing if you ask me.”

“I didn’t,” Thomus bites.

He’s so close to the closet. My fingers feel for anything on the shelf behind me and immediately feel the unmistakable smooth metal of Thomus’ shoehorn, the very one I tried to pummel him with.

Maybe New Year’s Eve kisses are good luck.

I raise it over my head as he steps to the doorway.

“Your silence is very telling,” Rodolphus chuckles as he slowly steps into the closet. I hear his footsteps on the wood floor as he disappears on the other side of the door.

I’ve shoved my anxiety down enough so I don’t panic as he reappears, wand scanning the room.

Just as he turns to me, I transfigure the shoehorn into a dagger, and hold it up to his throat.

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