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Cat and King

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“Imagine what my dam would say,” Rita found herself saying, after. “Why, she’d crow. ‘Rita mine, dating old blood,’ she’d say. ‘I don’t like what the world’s coming to, but I like that.’ ” Rita snorted. “Cow.”

“Dating?” Ian said, spreading a slick hand on her left breast. “Debauching, I’d call it.”

“As if you need any,” Rita said, rolling her eyes. She bit back the silly thing she’d wanted to say, about how she liked what her world was coming to, that she was dating— debauching, fucking him. There were few sweet things in life. This was one of them.

Still, she didn’t say it. Instead, she smiled at him wickedly. “She wouldn’t know what to make of you, really,” she said, trailing her hand up to his own, which was now slowly squeezing her breast. “She’d worship you, but keep away. Until, of course, you cheated on me. I doubt my mother would give up the honour of scolding a Tatting for anything short of a murder of galleons.”

A pause ensued, in which Ian chuckled and pressed closer to her. But the frivolous answer Rita had been expecting did not quite come. Instead, Ian’s tone was almost serious. “What makes you think I’ll cheat on you?”

“Rich, young and handsome,” Rita said, careful to keep her tone light as she turned over to face him. “First is reason enough. And of course, we have…” she squeezed his slowly hardening cock “…this.”

Ian laughed then. Yet, still, a strange look was on his face. “You have to know I wouldn’t dare. By reason of your profession.”

“Ah,” Rita said, smiling, “I’m the cat who may look at her king, eh?”

“The cat,” Ian said, “with access to a printing press.” His leg snaked around hers, bringing them closer. “A press that makes the gospel of the wizarding world.”

“You put it so charmingly,” Rita said. She blushed a little in her head— her voice was little more than a moan now. “Well, you shall have to be faithful.”

“And what about you?” Ian urged, his voice low. “A king may look at a cat. No?” Rita moaned as he slid into her. Sweet, that, so sweet— “The cat should also be faithful. Yes?” He kissed her. “Tell me.”

“Yes,” Rita said, shortly. Blasted boy couldn’t just be quiet and move those fucking hips…oh, wait. He could. Didn’t even come first, either. He was too busy smiling at her, like some kind of young shark. Rita shrugged and helped herself to the mouthful of cock she was happily getting used to, but she found it difficult to ignore the odd look in his eyes afterwards, meshing strangely with the sated smile. “What?” she finally asked, trying not to be defensive.

He touched her nipple, very gently. Somehow, that made her feel better.

Of course, he couldn’t keep his mouth shut, so it went away right quick. “A king may look at a cat,” Ian sighed, looking at her. Rita laughed at him until he laughed with her. But as they lay together in the darkness of the strange room, she found herself wondering if even his laugh hadn’t had something of the shark about it too.

Sighing, she closed her eyes. Very definitely not, then— her days of playing the hunted were well over.