Not when I have him lying beneath me, sweat beading on his forehead, breathing laboured and painful.
Not when the knowledge that he wants me - wants me more than he could have imagined - kills a far more tender part of him than merely his life.
His pride.
His pride is suffering, and I am glad.
“Get off me,” he whispers through bloodied, angry lips; and I sneer a smile at him.
“Ask nicely, Black.”
“Get off me.”
I look down his naked body, trail my eyes over his hard and throbbing cock.
“You don’t want me to. Look at you. You’re begging for me to fuck you.”
He struggles, knowing it is futile. I watch, silently; wait for him to acknowledge defeat. There is nothing more pleasurable than watching Sirius Black own himself beaten. The struggling slows, then stops. I watch his tongue slip between his lips to lick the blood away, and I lean over and press my lips to his. The blood trickles into my mouth: the taste of failure.
“I hate you.”
Perhaps the first true thing he has said. Perhaps the only truth ever to come from his lying mouth. And still it is not the whole truth. For he hates me, yes, but he wants me more. And I am going to make him beg.
“Your manners leave a lot to be desired.”
His hands clench into fists. He will have the marks of his nails on his palms. They will not be the only marks he has. He will bear the marks of my possession by the time I have finished with him.
I reach down and stroke his erect cock. He gives a little gasp that he will remember with humiliation afterwards. He is moaning, and raising his head towards me in supplication, pleading for my mouth on his. He shivers under my touch.
“Ask nicely.”
“Severus…”
And that in itself is a miracle of desperation. That he should call me Severus, and in that humble tone. But he can do better than that. He will do better than that.
I give him the lightest of kisses. My left hand is in his hair; my right hand still touching, teasing, stroking. I tug his dark unruly locks, exposing his neck. I bite.
“Fuck… Severus…”
“Beg me.”
“I…”
He wants to say no, but fears saying it. Fears I might stop my attentions.
He falls.
“Please…” He can no longer meet my eyes. He will never forget. Never. “Please, Severus… God, just… fuck me.”