LMoM: Scentillation (Revisited) #17 [Remus/Sirius, NC-17] Title:Scentillation (Revisited): The Highwayman Author:pre_raphaelite1 Pairing: Remus/Sirius Rating: NC-17 Kink(s): costume play, dirty talk Challenge: LMoM 2008 Word Count: 560 Notes: All subtitles and summaries are names and descriptions of perfume oils from Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab and therefore belong to the BPAL powers that be. I'm merely fangirling them with Remus/Sirius pron. And HP belongs to JKR, of course. Click on the pervy_werewolf tag of my username for previous entries. Today's Scent Description/Summary: Stand and deliver! Vetiver with gardenia, blood red rose, night-blooming jasmine, a dash of cinnamon and a faint hint of leather.
Scentillation(Revisited) #17: The Highwayman
Padfoot,
I'm watching you. I've been watching you all night. Have you felt it? My eyes on you- following you as you move around the room? As you drink and flirt? You've met my eyes a few times. Were they just accidents as you admired the others and their fancy dress? Or could you tell what I was thinking about you?
No?
I'll tell you.
You've never looked more beautiful. Yes, beautiful. Not handsome or sexy or attractive. Beautiful. Sheer beauty beyond any measure of distinction. Everyone else sees, knows it too, but you know too. It's why you you keep letting that strand of hair slip over your eye; what others might think is casual tip of your head, I know is the perfected gesture to bring that carefully trimmed lock of hair to just that place. It is at once coyness and seduction, attempted innocence and carnal temptation.
Perhaps it's what you are wearing. Those tight breeches that leave nothing to my memory or anyone else's imagination. I can see- we can see- every flex of your muscles, every line of power and curve of form under them. The coat hem brushes just there across your arse, just where it is most pronounced, but leaving the sweeping curves of it available to our eyes. The snugness of the breeches accentuate the flesh and muscle where my hands have struck you, where my mouth has bit you, where my come has soaked you.
Below them the tall Hessian boots; the black leather sharp, perfect contrast with the breeches. I want to know what they feel like wrapped around my waist. How smooth they will rub over me as I fuck you, as I pound you into the mattress until you can feel the bedframe against your back.
I'm going to leave the coat on, the shirt too, but open so I can touch your skin, watch your chest and throat flush as you strain up under me. I want to see your fingers curl into the lace that floats over your hands, want to see if you'll tear it when I thrust my entire cock deep into your hot little hole, deep and hot and hard. You'll be hard for me, so desperate to touch yourself, to stroke yourself until you come that you'll have twist your hands in the sheets, holding on to them as though that will dull the need, but you know it won't.
I'm not going to let you touch yourself. And I'm not going to do it for you. Your hard, aching cock- untouched, unstroked. Can you imagine what it will feel like? How full you'll be, that heavy pull of your balls? How much your cock is going to be throbbing, flushed and leaking against your stomach as I push your knees back to your chest, hold them there to open you up completely so I can ride you as I want, as the shameless slut you are-
If you beg me enough, prettily and desperately enough, I'll tip your hips up to just the right angle, find that perfect fucking spot in your tight hole, the one that makes you scream, shatter apart below me, and come all over yourself. But only if.
Want it? Want me?
I'm waiting. Find me.
Always yours, -R
First person to leave feedback gets to choose the BPAL scent as the prompt/inspiration for the next day’s ficlet! Should this not work out, I'll pick a reviewer at my discretion. Thanks to carmine_ink for this one.