CH 29: Exhausted Fleur

{[Last Time in Tainted Desire]}

For the next four hours, I owed my life to the inventor of the silencing charm, as I would have probably cracked a vein if I tried to hold my amused cackling. It was so ridiculous, watching William enjoying the pampering of her mother like he was still a child, playing passive whenever his mother carelessly insulted Fleur with barely concealed comments. William kept his mouth firmly closed even with the topics that were clearly his fault, such as the thick stench of alcohol, and the pile of bottles on the ground, while Fleur was blamed for not taking care of him. After that, I noticed that Fleur was more than happy to go to the kitchen, her disappearances taking longer and longer. Her expression filled me with anticipation, as I could see her reflexively comparing every moment with the time she spent with me, a flicker of excitement appearing whenever she got a far-away look in the kitchen.

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{[Now]}

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Fleur had an exhausted look when Molly finally left, but not before feeding William with a humongous amount of food to compensate for all the horrible food he had to eat in the prison. "Should we move to the bedroom," William said with a clear excitement on his face, expecting his wife to share his enthusiasm, as if he actually thought she would be aroused after spending hours with in-laws, subjected to a variety of verbal insults, some covered, some direct, all without even the slightest protection from her husband… He was a real idiot, I decided. I was basically doing a favor taking her off his hands so that he could return playing the rebel son of her precious mother.

"Let's go," Fleur said, her tone listless. William missed it though, a combined result of his drunkenness and his thickness. Fleur climbed the stairs quickly, William following her with the occasional stumble. But Fleur was already in the bathroom, behind the locked door, when William managed to stumble into his bedroom. "Fleur, where are you?" he asked, his words coming across as an indecipherable slur.

"I'm in the bathroom, getting ready," she answered, using it as an excuse to gain some time, her tone shouting her reluctance, something that missed by her drunk husband. It must have been hard for her, thinking that she was martyring herself for her husband's safety, only to enjoy the attention of her blackmailer more than her husband.

"Okay, hurry up," William answered as he threw himself on the bed. I readied myself to cast a sleep charm that would ensure his sleep for the next sixteen hours, only for his snoring to start before my intervention, his mother's cooking proving more effective than the sleeping charm. Of course, I cast the sleeping spell on him nevertheless, not wanting to take the risk of him waking up and screwing up the plan midway.

It took more than fifteen minutes for the bathroom door to open, revealing Fleur, dressed in the thickest, most boring robe imaginable, a clear message to her husband, if only he had been awake to receive it. The expression on her face was priceless, a perfect mixture of relief and anger. She watched his sleeping figure with disbelieving eyes, the ratio of anger in her expression climbing quickly. She might have been stayed passive in such situation before her sexuality had been awakened under my forceful attention, but not now, not after she tasted the wine of the sexual ecstasy.

Still, even I wasn't expecting her next move. Stomping angrily, she walked towards the bed and quickly scribbled a message. I leaned above her shoulder, only to see that she was writing a short message to me, saying that she was going to pay another visit tonight. She tried to justify it in the message of course, claiming it was to free her of her final obligation, allowing her to focus on her marriage, but I was there to watch her vindictive glares to her husband, clearly using the visit to pay her husband back. I shrugged. I wasn't exactly unsatisfied with the reason. I was all for humiliating her husband, as long as I was the tool of choice for her to bring that result.

She wrapped the letter to her owl's leg, and I cast a weak confundus charm to make sure the bird went directly to the vacation home instead of trying to find me. I didn't know whether an owl could detect me under the Invisibility Cloak, but it wasn't the time to test it. Instead, I stayed in the room, watching with desire as Fleur shed her ugly robe and granny panties, wearing a set of white frilly underwear, cute but revealing, obviously bought for the wedding night. Yet another victory, I marked, watching her pull on the underwear she had painstakingly picked for her husband before.

I didn't wait for her preparations to complete. I sneaked out to the back garden, and teleported out to the living room of my holiday home, the owl already waiting for me. I scribbled a quick positive answer and started waiting for her to appear.

I hadn't had to wait for long. Fleur walked through the door, wearing a pink flimsy bathrobe to cover her actual clothing. "Welcome," I said with a smile on my face. "I can't say I was expecting to see you tonight. I would have expected you to spend time with your husband instead." I checked the clock exaggeratedly. "It had been six hours since you had left, should I be impressed that your husband managed to last against your beauty for six hours. Color me impressed."

I could see her anger flaring even deeper with every reference to her husband. "I decided to complete our deal tonight," she answered. "I want to continue my marriage with a clean slate."

"Whatever you say, beautiful," I answered, not bothering to call her on about her very obvious lie. Her face was an open book, telling to story for all that could read. "Why don't you come and warm my lap, then," I added, pulling my pants and underwear down as she walked towards me in slow, sensual steps, providing me with a show better than anything else I had seen in my life, her frustration awakening her desire to prove herself.

Standing in front of me, she pulled the sash of her bathrobe and threw it on the ground in one negligent move, leaving her wrapped only in her wedding-night garb to my attention. Without hesitation, she sat down across my length and started rocking her hips, the arousal blooming on her face instantly. I realized that she was still suffering under the arousal I hadn't given to her hours ago. An oversight that was easy to fix, I thought as I pulled her closer, trapping her body in contact with mine. No argument rose from her lips, not that it was surprising. They were temporarily rendered useless, for that particular usage at least. They were still more than capable of serving as my amusement, following the lead of my lips in a merciless tango.

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