Chastity knew he was hers the moment he lifted his wand and locked the door. No, that wasn’t entirely true; she knew she had him, but he wasn’t hers yet, not really. But maybe for the next half hour he would be. She’d take what she could get, for now, because she knew it would be worth it. Though she had no idea how she wasn’t going to want him even more after this.
Barty was right when he thought that Chas wouldn’t mind a bit of pain. (Hell, she didn’t mind a lot of pain when done right.) In fact, as he backed her hard against the wall, Chas moaned even louder, tightening her legs around her and arching her back. Fuck, yes. She shuddered under his touch as his hands slipped under her jacket, electricity dancing and skittering over her skin as his fingers found her flesh. Gods, she felt alive under his touch, better than she’d ever felt with anyone else. He bit at her neck, pulling another moan from Chas’ lips as she tilted her head back slightly. “Barty…” She half-moaned, half-growled his name, fingers scrambling for purchase on his back, wanted to dig her nails into his skin and drag them down. Fucking hell, she wanted all their damn clothes off. His teeth on her neck were so distracting though; she wanted him to mark her, to break skin and taste her blood. She’d once told him that she didn’t let just anyone make her bleed, but Barty was the one person she’d allow in a heartbeat. “Don’t hold back,” she moaned. Don’t you dare. But she didn’t want it to be an order, not with him, so after a moment, the word slipped from her lips, made even more rare by the fact that she genuinely meant it. “Please…”