[There's two instincts in him: the one comes from the prickle at the back of his neck when she says please, her body flush against his and her hand and the warmth of her breath at that desperate request--and the other comes from the thought that she wasn't desperate enough, that she can do better, beg better, he can get better out of her--
That's the one that wins out, always, because there is something cruel in Sirius, something that smirks, dark, at her, slips his hand between them to palm at her breast again--shift his hips forward, just a little, just enough so he's pressed back against her, as his fingers pinch at her nipple--]
You can beg better than that, if you want to get fucked.
oh my god dw i posted this YESTERDAY
That's the one that wins out, always, because there is something cruel in Sirius, something that smirks, dark, at her, slips his hand between them to palm at her breast again--shift his hips forward, just a little, just enough so he's pressed back against her, as his fingers pinch at her nipple--]
You can beg better than that, if you want to get fucked.