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Fire Call

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To: ragdoll

From: Your Secret Santa

Title: Fire Call

Author: snegurochka_lee

Pairings: Bill/Tonks, Bill/Tonks/Charlie

Summary: Bill had to be careful with women who didn't know the scene. With a bit of training, Tonks could be the perfect submissive; but without it, the kinds of things they did together could get him in a lot of trouble.

Rating: NC-17

Words: ~19,400

Warnings: Explicit Dom/sub is the big warning. References to domestic abuse. See notes for other content. Also, this is set early in the summer before OotP and is not officially AU, but as per request, Remus and Fleur are just not mentioned. Canon fans or AU fans alike can insert this story into their universes without too much trouble, I think. ;) Also, a touch of incest. I won't mislead readers by saying the threesome is "not really" incest, but Bill/Charlie is not at all a pairing here, if that helps you decide whether or not to read it.

Author's notes: For ragdoll, who wanted male-Dom/female-sub, bondage, boots, corsets, sex toys, breast play, dub-con, ravishment role-playing and plot. Happy holidays, Jan! I hope this helps redeem canon Tonks for you, at least a little bit. :) Many thanks to R, R, and S for the beta work.

Archiving: Originally posted here.

 



FIRE CALL

Bill Weasley was looking at her.

Well, okay, everyone was fucking looking at her; she'd just dumped an entire pot of tea on the floor and let the biscuits slide off the plate and into the wet mess while bending to clear it up. So much for an Auror's bloody levitation skills. Mad-Eye was laughing in that thick, gruff cough of his that sounded like he was hacking a Snorkack out from the back of his throat, Sirius had punched her good-naturedly on the arm and downed another shot of whisky, and Charlie was just grinning at her, shaking his head.

"Sorry, sir," she mumbled to Mad-Eye, her flustered state causing her brain to revert back to the Auror academy and the official way to address a superior officer. "I'm just– Shit. Sorry. Clumsy as ever," she sighed to herself, waving her wand over the mess and heading back to the stove to make more tea.

But Bill kept looking.

"Take a picture, Weasley," she muttered, her eyes darting over to him. "It'll last longer."

He said nothing, but she caught a glimpse of his face colouring as he turned away at last, Mad-Eye barking instructions about how the lot of them had better goddamn well behave when Snape and Dumbledore arrived, because they were out there risking their arses, and the fat lot of pillocks sitting around that kitchen with their tits hanging out better show some respect. Tonks sighed, collecting herself and taking her seat when Snape and Dumbledore finally swept into the kitchen. The meeting was long, as usual, and filled with various bits of information that Tonks was quite sure didn't matter a tit in this bloody war: the colour of Rookwood's knickers on Fridays, what the Minister had for lunch on Wednesdays, You-Know-Who's penchant for chess tournaments among the Death Eaters every other Saturday night...

She sighed again, leaning back in her chair and stretching her legs out under the table, and when she glanced around at her colleagues, she found Bill Weasley still looking at her. Stupid tosser. Likely thinking of the best moment to remind everyone of her clumsiness, she figured; he'd always been one to harass her back at school, pushing past her hard enough to make her books fall out of her arms, or sending her up a staircase just as it shifted and she wound up on the wrong floor, or swiping her pudding out from under her nose at dinner and eating it himself.

Bill Weasley was nothing but a bully, and that was that.

She jumped as a bit of parchment slid under the table towards her, and casting a glance sideways, she saw Charlie nudging it at her. She took it quietly and unfolded it under the table.

Think we can get old Snape to tell us what colour his knickers are? In the interests of the war effort, and all... ;)

She smiled, concentrating silently on the charm and moving her index finger over the page.

Maybe he doesn't wear any? Oh, ew, never mind, I don't want to think about

"Tonks? Something to add?" Dumbledore's kind but firm voice interrupted her, and she realised she had been smirking down at the parchment in her lap. Her head jerked up.

"Oh! No, sir. Sorry, sir," she mumbled, shooting death glares at Charlie from the corner of her eye. He covered his grin with his hand, and she swore she'd get back at him next meeting, the troublemaking little git.

The meeting ended at last, and slowly the participants filed out of the kitchen of Grimmauld Place. They were few in number, still being in the recruiting stages for the Order, and Molly had provided dinner early that night, so there was no need for anyone to stay. Sirius grabbed another bottle of whisky and winked at her before heading upstairs, Charlie squeezed her shoulder and whispered a laughing, Sorry into her ear before he left as well, and she sighed again, gathering her files and looking around for her cloak.

As she did, she noticed that Bill had not yet left. He was standing against the far wall, arms crossed over his chest and boots planted firmly on the floor, watching her.

"Bill, honestly," she said, running a hand through her hair. "What is it with you tonight? I've got toilet paper coming out of my pants, or what?" She frowned at that, glancing behind her. That would be just perfect, if she did.

He half-smiled. "No." He paused. "I'm just looking."

"Well, cut it out. It's creepy."

He ignored her. "Why did you call Moody 'sir'? And Dumbledore?" he asked, his voice low and quiet.

Her brow creased. "I don't know," she said with a shrug. "Because they're my superiors, and about two hundred years old besides? It sounds right."

"You ever call anyone else that?" He tilted his head to the side, and she stared at him.

"I– what? I don't know." His tone of voice was rattling her, despite her best efforts to brush him off. It was deep and ragged, not quite his normal voice, as though he was straining not to say everything he wanted to say. She watched his chest rise and fall rapidly and felt something stir inside her. "What do you want?" she murmured, her own voice lower than she'd intended.

"I want to hear you call me that," he said without hesitation, his tongue moving slowly over his bottom lip.

She laughed in surprise. "What, sir? Sure thing, Weasley." She shook her head. "Yes, sir, whatever you wish, sir. Honestly!"

"Tonks." He wasn't laughing. "Come over here." His voice was firm but not unkind, and it held a quiet authority that rippled down her spine.

She stared at him.

"I said, come here," he repeated. He paused, looking her up and down. "I won't say it again."

She sucked in a breath through her parted lips, her body beginning to pull towards him before her mind could fully consider the repercussions of doing so. "Why?" she asked, but her feet were already moving, stepping one after the other across the kitchen floor.

"I told you," he said quietly. "I want to hear you call me sir."

She stood directly in front of him, looking up at him and trying to figure out what his game was. He was teasing her, that was all, and hell, she could take it. She sure as hell wasn't about to let Bill Weasley rattle her, or know he'd rattled her. She lifted her chin. "All right, then," she said. "Here I am, sir." She drew out the word in challenge. "What do you want, sir?"

What happened next made her eyes widen and all the air leave her lungs. He unfolded his arms and reached down to his trousers, unfastening them quickly and pulling his cock out, all while looking her straight in the eye. Well, as long as her eyes remained on his, rather, which wasn't very long. Her gaze dropped to his cock, which was rapidly thickening in his hand as he moved his fingers along its length. She swallowed, her mouth dry and her hand not flying for her wand nearly as quickly as she would have liked.

"What the fuck, Weasley?" she croaked, but her voice lacked the conviction she'd intended.

"What would you say if I told you to suck me?" he asked, his voice still in that maddeningly firm but quiet tone.

I'd say you were out of your fucking mind! she shouted in her head. I'd say you could shove your sorry dick back in your pants and get the hell out of this kitchen. But those words wouldn't come, not when something else was stealing over her mind and body, some unnamed desire to drop to her knees and actually do it. Her mouth dried out and she found herself staring at his cock as he pushed it between his fingers. She glanced up at him again, her legs shaking. "I'd say..." She licked her lips and then closed her eyes in embarrassment. He saw that. Shit. "No," she said firmly, her hands on her hips.

He was quiet for a moment. "I don't like people who disobey my orders," he murmured. "But I won't force you." His eyes blazed down at her, and she felt her skin heating under his attention.

"I– yeah, it's just–" She closed her mouth, frowning. There was something about his tone of voice that was crawling under her skin and snaking up between her legs. She could feel her blood heating and her cunt getting wet at the thought of swallowing his cock and letting him come down her throat. Oh, God, what was wrong with her? He was clearly coercing her, despite his claims to the contrary. Her chest heaved. "Well, sir," she murmured, and it was his turn to suck in a startled breath. She watched with fascination as he swallowed hard, clearly trying to control himself. "If I did obey your orders, would you make it worth my while?" The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them, and she was surprised to find that she didn't want to take them back.

He licked his lips, nodding. "Oh, yeah," he breathed. "That's how it works with me," he added. "You do what I say, and I'll make it worth your while."

Visions splashed across her mind, unbidden, of all the ways he might be able to make it worth her while, and she felt a sudden flood of warmth between her legs. The thought of him bending her over that kitchen table and shoving his cock into her nearly made her gasp with pleasure. She dropped to her knees without another word and pushed his hand aside, replacing it with her own and guiding his cock into her mouth. He was hot and thick between her lips, and she pushed up with her tongue to see what sort of sounds she could coax him to make. She didn't have a shitload of experience with men, but she had enough, and blow jobs were among her favourite activities. Bill Weasley and his superiority complex wouldn't know what hit him when she was done; he'd be grovelling at her feet for more.

His hand cupped the back of her head and he pushed her in, just lightly, but her eyes still widened in surprise. So, that's how he played, was it? She fisted the base of his cock hard and let him thrust in deeply, her tongue still moving against him and her lips wet. She opened her throat and took as much of him in as she could, her free hand scraping at his hip. He didn't quite moan, but he sighed deeply, his thighs clenching and his fingers tightening in her hair.

"Fuck, Tonks," he breathed. "Suck it harder, oh fuck, just like that."

She moved her free hand down to press against his balls, and in another second he groaned and let his body freeze. Thick pulses of come splashed down her throat, and she pushed her face to his groin and swallowed steadily, a small thrill running through her at the sight of him so unravelled like this.

"God, you brilliant little slut," he muttered, pushing her away and dropping to his knees. He ripped at her trousers and shoved his hand inside before she could even think to protest, but as soon as his fingers slid through her wetness and over her clit, all thoughts of protesting fled her mind. She leaned back against the wall and clung to his shirt, nearly sobbing with pleasure into his shoulder.

"Oh my God," she whispered, her fingernails wanting to tear through the fabric of his shirt. "Oh my God."

His fingers rubbed her raw, circling her clit until it felt like his whole hand from palm to fingertips was moving in broad, constant circles, her pleasure spiralling out of control. "Come on," he murmured into her hair, his free hand brushing over her nipples. "You filthy slut, sucking back my come like that. You loved every drop, didn't you? You should have seen yourself, opening your pretty little mouth for me. Did you like that? Tell me you loved it."

"Oh God," she muttered again, her mind a blur and her body a mess of sensation. His fingers slowed, and she sobbed into his shoulder. "Just– more–"

"Tell me," he ordered.

"I loved it," she whispered. "God, yeah, I loved it. Just– harder–"

He kissed the top of her head and pushed his hand in further, rubbing her so hard she felt like every drop of blood in her body had rushed to her cunt. She ached for him to push his fingers inside her, but he didn't; he just kept rubbing at a frantic pace until she couldn't take any more. She clenched her fingers in his shirt and moaned as she came, her eyes squeezing closed and her body spasming. She felt the first few pulses inside her cunt and then his fingers finally, finally thrust up, shoving hard inside her as her body convulsed around him.

It was several blissful seconds before the world crashed back in around her. Bill's fingers were still tracing lazy patterns up her thigh and along the folds of her body, and she shuddered in renewed pleasure before pushing him away, panting. "I– okay– um." She swallowed.

"Yeah, uh." He slowly pulled his hand away, grinning mischievously as he wiped it on her trousers. "Sorry," he added.

Her eyes widened. "No, you aren't!" she cried. "You aren't remotely fucking sorry!" She pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead. "Look, let's just forget this ever–"

"Hey, Tonks, saw your broom's still upstairs. You want to grab a pint or some–"

Tonks froze, her head whirling around towards the kitchen door. Her jaw fell open.

"You ever knock, little brother?" said Bill angrily, getting to his feet and standing in front of Tonks, shielding her. He casually buttoned his trousers and then put his hands on his hips, glaring at Charlie.

"You. What. Okay. Look, I was just–" Charlie's eyes flew around the room, looking at everything but the two of them. "Right. Never mind." He turned again and fled up the stairs.

Tonks closed her eyes and let her head fall back against the wall, her heart pounding. God and fuck, but it had been a hell of a night.

*

It had been three days, and he couldn't stop thinking about her.

No, scratch that. It had been eight years, and he couldn't stop thinking about her.

Eight years since he'd first seen her at school and wanted to fuck her; three days since he'd actually gone and done it at last. Sort of. And even with eight years to plan it out, it still hadn't gone right at all. Oh, it had been fucking brilliant, make no mistake – when he closed his eyes he could still feel her mouth on his dick, red lips widening and pale throat working to swallow every drop of come – but he'd gone about it all wrong, and now, fuck, now she was going to think he was an utter arse.

Come over here and suck it.

God, he couldn't say things like that to birds who didn't know the scene! He kicked himself over and over again in his head, trying to figure out a way to fix it. She was so hot, and had so much potential: the way the word sir had rolled off her tongue had made his breath catch and his cock go rigid in four seconds flat. With a bit of training, she could be a perfect submissive. He'd never seen it as clearly as he'd seen it at that meeting.

But now he'd gone and fucked it all up, pushing for too much, too soon, and in all the wrong ways. He had to try to fix things with her.

He lingered after dinner at Grimmauld Place that night, joining Sirius for an extra glass of whisky and laughing at the stories of his long-lost school days, while mum finished the dishes and Tonks chatted with Shacklebolt. He let the others drift away, waving his mother goodnight and then raising his eyes to Tonks when she looked up at last to see Shacklebolt off. She noticed that most of the others had also gone and to Bill's surprise, she didn't immediately flee.

"Hey," he called softly from across the table. "Got a second?"

She hesitated, but then nodded, smiling at Shacklebolt and Sirius as they made their way upstairs. Once they were gone, she turned a chair around and straddled it, resting her arms over the back and glaring at him from behind it. "What?" she asked, her voice neither welcoming nor angry.

He looked at her for a moment, wondering if she knew just how alluring that pose was, or just how badly he wanted to throw her over his lap and spank her for speaking to him like that. He swallowed. "Just wanted to talk to you about the other night," he began, careful to keep his voice even.

She frowned. "You got something to say to me that doesn't start with, Suck it? I'm shocked, Weasley, really, I am."

He breathed deeply through his nose and lifted his chin. "All right. I deserved that." He paused. "But I wanted a chance to explain."

She leaned forward. "How about you explain to your brother that I'm not a complete slut?"

"Oh, come on." He rolled his eyes. "What do you care what he thinks?"

"He's a good friend, Bill, and me having one off with his brother behind his back? Yeah, I'd say that's something he'd take personally. And it does matter to me." She paused. "He's told me before to stay away from you," she added.

Bill stared at her. "He– what?"

"Said you don't exactly have a fantastic history with women." She glared at him in challenge.

"And why would you have been asking?" he said softly, and she pressed her lips together.

"I wasn't asking, I was just– I don't remember how it came up." Her fingers curled around the edge of the chair back.

"Well, all right," he said, scratching at his jaw. "He's right, then. I don't have a fantastic history with women. But, uh, there's a reason for that." He moved his eyes to a point over her shoulder, contemplating how much he should say. There was a general rule in the community that outsiders should be treated with extreme caution; one never knew what their breaking point might be, and when they might run to their friends, their parents, or hell, the sodding Muggle police to complain if they were pushed too far. His best relationships had been with insiders, women who already knew what they were getting into.

But he couldn't go on ignoring the fact that a woman like Tonks was in his vicinity, worked closely with him, and moreover, that he wanted her more than he'd wanted any other woman for as long as he could remember. He had to tell her, and just hope she wouldn't storm out of that kitchen, disgusted. He looked at her again to find she was watching him expectantly.

"I went about it wrong the other night," he began. "I should have talked to you about this first, gained your consent, and then told you to suck my cock." He frowned. This wasn't coming out quite right.

She raised an eyebrow.

"What I mean is, when I said I wanted you to call me sir, I meant that–"

"You get off on it," she interrupted. "Yeah, I got that."

He looked at her in surprise. "But you did it anyway."

She dropped her eyes. "Yeah, well. Maybe I got off on it, too." She coughed.

His eyes widened and his heart rate quickened. He struggled not to get his hopes up. He got up from his chair and moved around the table, taking the chair closest to her. "Did you?" he asked quietly.

"Well, yeah. Obviously."

He touched her arm. "What did you like about it?"

Her chest rose and fell more rapidly and her lips parted as she looked at him. "Don't know," she murmured. "Just, something about being ordered to do it, but not being in any real danger..." She paused. "I mean, I can hold my own with a bloke, yeah? No one's going to make me suck a cock I don't want to suck; it'd be the last thing he fucking did. So... I don't know. It must have been something about knowing I wasn't really being forced to do it, just sounded like forcing, which... Fuck, I don't know, Weasley. That part was hot, all right?" She pushed his hand away and looked down again.

He closed his eyes to will his breathing to slow. She got it. That was it, exactly. That was exactly the fucking appeal of it, and she didn't even know what she'd said. "Listen," he began. "I am insanely attracted to you."

She glanced up again, her face colouring.

"And I want to fuck you six ways to Sunday."

She wet her lips.

"But there's a catch, and that's the thing with the ordering and the coercing." He sighed. It was now or never. "I'm into some things. Kink. Fetish stuff." He paused, rubbing his forehead. "I'm not going to apologise for it, because I've already spent too many years feeling like a freak or a pervert or whatever, and I'm done with that, so if you're not into it, I'll walk away and never bother you again, but I had to ask, because fuck, Tonks, the other night was the hottest thing I've done in a long fucking time, and I want to do it again. A lot. Except with even more ordering and coercing, and more chains, and probably more whips, and listen, I could clamp your nipples so that you feel things you've never fucking felt before, and– Right. So, that's that, then."

She stared at him. "Clamp... my nipples?"

He laughed, closing his eyes for a moment. "That didn't come out right."

"Sounds like, ow." She grinned, despite trying not to.

"Yeah. It hurts, I won't lie to you. But after the hurt, it feels so fucking amazing. I just– I wanted to try it with you."

"So... this is what you do, when you have sex. You have to have chains and clamps?"

He sighed. "Yeah. It's what I do. I mean, the chains and clamps are optional, although I do like them rather a lot, but mostly what I do is, I'm a Dom, and I need a sub."

She blinked. "Right," she said slowly.

"The thing is, it's really misunderstood, and it's got to be entirely consensual or it doesn't work, okay? I mean, I don't get off on fucking women who don't want me fucking them, right? It's not– I mean– I'm not like that. That's not–" He paused. "I know what it sounds like," he continued, making an effort to speak slowly. "It makes me sound like an utter bastard, and like I said, I felt like an utter bastard for years because of this. It just– it turns me on to have a woman on her knees, calling me sir, yeah? That's basically what it is. But the thing is, it's got to be with a woman who gets turned on by doing it." He watched her carefully. "If the submissive doesn't want it, then I don't want it. If that makes sense."

She glanced away, her eyes moving over the surface of the kitchen table and over to the pots and pans on the wall. He could almost see her trying to process all of this. She opened her mouth as if to speak several times, and then closed it again, her forehead creasing.

"I know it's hard to admit," he said gently, "if it's something you like. It's embarrassing at first."

She looked up at him, and the confusion combined with eagerness in her brown eyes nearly undid him right there.

"But the Dom has a responsibility to take care of his sub. The thing is, we draw up the rules ahead of time, and I can't go outside those boundaries. It's like a game, in a way. An amazingly erotic game." He smiled. "You would be completely safe, and if you ever felt unsafe, or wanted to stop, there's a word you'd say that would stop everything. I'm bound to honour that word, no matter what's happening. Even if I'm a second from coming and can barely see straight, if you say the word, we stop."

Her eyes widened. "I don't think any man has ever said that to me, especially not one who wants to tie me up and clamp my nipples." She smirked at him. "You'd really stop?" she added shyly.

"God, Tonks, yes. It would be my job to take care of you. This absolutely does not work without both parties' consent. That's why – God, I'm so sorry – I went about it all wrong the other night. I didn't give you enough of a chance to say no. I behaved as though we'd already signed a contract."

"A contract? How... sexy."

He laughed. "Oh, you'd be surprised. How would you like to spell out in writing exactly what I'm allowed to do to you, and what I'm not? Making a D/s contract can be incredibly erotic."

She considered this. "So, if I wanted you to fuck me in Hyde Park and then Obliviate the Muggles afterwards?"

He let out a surprised bark of laughter. "Sure," he said.

"If I... wanted to wear nothing but a corset and boots and use a dildo on myself while you watched?"

He stopped laughing. "God. Yes."

"Or if I..." She paused, thinking. "If I wanted to call you sir and let you tie my wrists and ankles to the bed and fuck me as many times as you wanted, so long as I got to come a couple of times, too?"

He almost stopped breathing, his cock suddenly hard as a rock in his pants. He closed his eyes. "Are you trying to kill me?" he murmured, and she laughed softly. "Come home with me right now," he said quietly. "We'll do the contract in the morning, if you want, but for tonight, God, will you let me do that? Just what you said?"

He opened his eyes at the sound of her breathing accelerating. "Which one?" she asked, licking her lips.

"Don't care," he breathed. "The boots, and the corset, and the dildo, the bonds, fuck yes, the coming as many times as we can..."

She closed her eyes and moaned softly, her head falling down to rest on her arms over the back of the chair. "This is madness," she moaned. "Who talks about this stuff ahead of time?"

"We do," he insisted. "It's important that we do." He moved his hand up to stroke her hair, letting a finger trail down the back of her neck. "One more thing," he said, and she looked up at him. "I'll pretend to force you, and you pretend to protest?" His skin heated at the very thought of what they were discussing, and he felt the same thrill he always felt when negotiating a contract like this. But this was also different. This was Tonks, not a random woman from the clubs. This was someone he knew and respected, agreeing to engage in this sort of relationship with him – at least for one night.

She nodded, her eyes hooded as she reached a hand behind his neck and pulled him close. She kissed him with a mix of reserve and passion, and he could tell that she wanted this far more than she was letting on. It was always like this, with the new birds: they were afraid to let go, to let their Dom take care of them and control their pleasure. It would be worth her while if she could do it, though. He would make sure of that. When she pulled back, he held onto her bottom lip a second longer and memorised the taste of her, eager to taste every last corner of her body. "What's the word?" she murmured, giving him a pointed look.

"The what?"

"The word."

"Oh." He thought about it. "Well, we can use anything you'd like, although something not likely to come up during sex is best. You can't use something like No or Stop, because the whole point is to be able to say things like that, but not really want things to stop."

She nodded slowly. "Right. Um, okay."

He sought her eyes. "That's really important, Tonks," he pressed. "Stop is not the safe word. If you say it, I will not actually stop."

Her initial look of surprise slowly spread into a sly smile as comprehension dawned. "So, you want a damsel in distress," she murmured.

He felt his face heat. "Something like that, I guess," he admitted. "You'll see how it works," he promised. "If you don't like it, we'll never do it again, and you can stop everything by saying..." He thought for a second. "Fire call."

She raised an eyebrow, and he laughed.

"I was visiting Charlie in Romania a few years ago," he explained, "and they've got a different definition of fire call than we do." He shook his head, still grinning. "I just wanted to call mum to tell her I'd arrived all right, and I ended up accidentally evacuating half the compound."

She laughed. "Fire call," she said carefully, and he watched her form her lips around the phrase and store it in her memory. "All right," she added, looking him straight in the eye. "Let's go."

*

Her body was already on fire, and they had barely even begun all the activities Tonks had outlined in her fantasies for him earlier. This was madness, no, beyond madness, but she was so aroused she could barely even think about all the reasons she shouldn't be doing this.

She was bent over his bed, knee-high black boots over her bare legs and nothing but a tight corset covering her torso and breasts. Well, most of it, at least, but the thing was so tight, her breasts were nearly spilling out the top of it anyway. Not that he could really see that part, mind; he was too busy pushing a thick dildo in and out of her cunt to bother much with what her breasts looked like.

She moaned, clenching her fists in the bonds at her wrists and mashing her cheek against the bed. The torture of his hands, his body and his voice was exquisite, like nothing she had even imagined feeling before.

"You feel that?" he murmured over her back, and she bit down on her bottom lip as the dildo breached her again. But just as abruptly as it had entered her, he pulled it back again. "I said, can you feel it?" he barked. "You will answer me when I ask you a question."

"Yes," she sobbed, and then smiled to herself as she added, "Stop it, please. It's too big."

He paused. "What did you say, slut?"

"It hurts, sir," she whined, surreptitiously pushing her arse back. "Please stop."

"I thought I told you to shut up and quit complaining," he growled, tightening his grip around her waist and thrusting the dildo forward with his other hand. She cried out as it filled her, the delicious pressure of it setting her nerves on fire and her blood racing through her body. Every time she protested, she soon learned, he pushed the thing in even harder, and her head filled with wonder that this sort of scenario could be so arousing to both of them. He still hadn't fucked her, though, and as much as she was enjoying the dildo, she wanted to feel the hot length of his cock thrusting up her cunt, and wondered how best to convey this to him.

She laughed suddenly, craning her head around to look at him. "You really get off on this, Weasley?" she said, her voice hard. "This is bollocks. No man in his right mind wants to do this to a woman he cares about."

He paused, the dildo shoved deep inside her. "What did you say?" he whispered.

"You heard me."

He slowly pulled the dildo out, trailing it down her thighs and smearing it around the top of one boot. "Are you trying to piss me off, slut?" he murmured, his lips pressed against her back, teeth pulling at the taut strings of the corset.

"Maybe I don't want to be your slut anymore," she said, her skin prickling at his silence. Maybe she was pushing this too far. She was new to it, after all; there wasn't really any telling what he would do to punish her.

"Spread your legs wider," he murmured, his palm flat against her back as he shoved her down harder on the bed. Her arms were stretched at an awkward angle, tied to the bed posts on either side of her, but she moved her legs further apart and sank into the pose, her cunt aching for him. "You're going to apologise to me," he added, his teeth scraping her shoulder blades before he stood up again. She felt the head of his prick pushing lightly between her legs, teasing her.

"Please, sir," she whispered. "My arms hurt."

"You should have thought of that before you pissed me off," he muttered, rubbing the head of his cock over her clit. She gasped, squeezing her eyes shut. "Now I'm going to fuck you, and you aren't going to like it."

"No," she whimpered, pressing her face into the bed. "Please don't, Bill. I can't take it." She felt his cock twitch against her opening and his thighs press up against hers from behind. God, he really was excited by this, wasn't he? She closed her eyes and let herself fall into the fantasy completely. It was oddly liberating, to be able to say anything she wanted, express any sort of doubt or fear, and have him take complete control of her.

"Shut up," he growled. "You asked for this." He grabbed her hips and in one brutal thrust, he shoved himself deep inside her, much deeper than the dildo had been. She clenched her fists and tugged at her wrists in the bonds, but they didn't move. He withdrew quickly and pushed back in, establishing a ragged rhythm that battered her and sent her mind reeling. He felt thick and hot inside her, his cock sliding in and out of her cunt frantically but with great precision, and she tried to keep her breathing under control.

Bill Weasley was fucking her – really fucking her, with his cock lodged in her cunt and his breath hot on her back. Everything she had imagined in the kitchen the other night was happening, and her body was a mess of sensation. She was shocked to discover how much she liked this, how hotly her body was responding to this game, but she tried to push that out of her mind. He was right: it was embarrassing to admit that this was arousing. It was perverted, she knew that in the back of her mind, but God, he felt good. She was surprised but pleased to find that she didn't want him to stop. "Please, sir," she murmured again, to test him. "Your cock is too big."

He groaned at that, clutching her around the waist and driving in harder, until she couldn't speak any more.

"Don't come inside me," she whispered, when she sensed he was getting close. "Please, anything but that."

He paused a fraction of a second, and she heard his breath hitch. Maybe that had been a new one for him. She smiled to herself, secure in the knowledge that her contraception charms were firmly in place. "Shut up," he growled again. "I'll come inside you if I fucking want to," he added, moving his hands up to pull her breasts free of the corset and rub his fingers over her nipples. She moaned, pushing her hips back further. After another few thrusts, he pushed hard inside her and stayed there, his hips flush against her arse, and she felt his come pulse from his cock in thick, convulsing waves in her cunt. "You feel that, slut?" he muttered, breathing hard. "That's what it feels like when I come inside you. Remember it."

He pulled out slowly, trailing come down her thighs, and then whispered a word at her bonds. Her arms fell free and she dropped to the bed, panting, her entire body aching and desperate for release.

"Fuck yourself now," he ordered her, turning her around and pushing her back down on the bed. He spread his own arms out to the bed posts as he stood at the foot of the bed, watching her slide up to the headboard and bend her knees, spreading her legs for him. She couldn't stop to care about how wanton she must look, the boots framing her cunt from where he was looking, and her breasts spilling out of the corset. She dropped a hand between her legs and began to rub herself hard, dizzy with the need to come.

He was naked and beautiful, standing before her with his cock soft but glistening against his body, his hair matted with sweat and his blue eyes piercing her. She didn't take her eyes off him as she pushed three fingers into her cunt, flicking her thumb over her clit and lifting her hips in pleasure. She was soaking wet where he had come inside her, and she felt deliciously dirty and abused. It didn't take long before she felt her pleasure crest and her body tighten around her fingers. Her thighs tensed and she shuddered, closing her eyes and letting the hot pulses of her orgasm melt her surroundings.

"God, yes, just like that," Bill was murmuring to her, talking her through it. "You are so fucking gorgeous. Come for me, just like that." She moaned and threw her head back, and when she opened her eyes again, he was crawling up the bed towards her, his face drawn in pleasure and his lips parted. He moved over top of her and bent his head, kissing her deeply as one hand trailed down her breasts and ribcage, a remarkably tender gesture after what they had just done. "You are the most amazing creature," he whispered against her lips when they parted. "I could definitely get used to you."

She smiled and kissed him again. "Yeah, I..." She paused, lifting her hand away from her cunt and suddenly feeling shy. "I think I could, too."

He lifted his head and looked at her. "Really? You mean that? It wasn't– I mean, was it too much? That got– pretty intense." His face coloured, and she brought a hand up to his cheek.

"It did, yeah," she agreed, feeling her face heat as well. "But it was brilliant. You really, uh, you really meant the bit about not stopping, eh?"

He sat up. "Yeah. I did." He eyed her. "Tonks, I told you, if you wanted me to stop, you had to–"

"No, I know, it's okay." She placed a hand on his chest. "I got exactly what I wanted."

He let out a breath at that and closed his eyes. "You're okay, then?" he asked.

She sat up with him and trailed her hand over his thigh and up his stomach, then over to his bicep, his collarbone, and lightly up his neck. "Oh, yeah," she breathed. "I'm more than okay." She kissed him, cupping his face with her hand. "Now. You said something about signing a contract?"

*

"Hey. Mum's got dinner on."

"Got plans. Tell her I'll see her tomorrow."

"Fuck your plans. She told me not to come back without you."

Bill raised his head from the parchment he'd been writing on and sighed. "Charlie. Fuck off." He looked down again and kept writing.

"Oh, that's nice. Shoot the messenger. What're your plans, anyway?"

"Not your business."

"Like fuck. Tonks is my business."

Bill looked up again. "I didn't say anything about her."

"You didn't need to." Charlie strode fully into the room from the doorway and planted his hands on Bill's desk. "She's not some fuck trophy like your other birds, you know."

Bill rolled his eyes. "Thanks. Yes, I know that."

"You are fucking her, right? That bit in the kitchen I saw wasn't just some one-off rape moment?"

Bill stared at him. "You want to shut your fucking mouth?" he said quietly.

"Oho!" said Charlie, pushing back from the desk and standing over Bill, his arms folded over his chest. "Hit a nerve?"

"Fuck you. She's a big girl, and she's got fucking Auror training, you dickhead. You think she's going to put up with getting fucked if she doesn't want it? Now shut the fuck up about her. I said it's not your business."

"It is my business," spat Charlie, "because I know her a hell of a lot better than you do, and yeah, she can hold her own in a Death Eater duel, but if she told you she's got loads of experience with men, she's a fucking liar."

"Don't give me the blushing virgin line, Charlie. You say that about every bird I bring home, like I'm some fucking monster out to fuck up the innocent of the world."

"Fuck them up like Sheila Portsmouth, I guess?"

Bill paused, a snaking coil of rage beginning to unfurl from the base of his neck and slide down his spine. "You have no idea what you're talking about," he said slowly, struggling to control his temper.

"I know that Tonks is a romantic at heart, and a total fucking sweetheart, and another thing I know?" He leaned over Bill's desk again, lowering his voice. "I know you've got a thing for beating up women, and if you weren't my brother, I'd have slung you to the fucking Aurors for that years ago. So let me just say this: if I see so much as a hair out of place on her head; if I ever see her crying over you or hiding something from me about you, I will come over here and you will not know what fucking hit you." He pushed off the desk again and strode to the door.

"Charlie," called Bill, running a hand through his hair. "Charlie, come on!"

But the door slammed behind him and Bill was left alone. He flung his quill across the room and sat for a long moment, his head burning. Fuck.

*

It continued.

Every other night for weeks, time stood still as Tonks arrived at Bill's flat or he at hers, they sized each other up, and then everything she thought she'd known about sex and pleasure and hell, about men, was promptly thrown out the window. She would find herself bent over a sofa or flat on her back on a bed, ripped clothing hanging off her or else naked altogether, her legs thrown open and her body pulled taut to the point of breaking from the things he did to her.

The boots were a favourite of his, so she often kept them on. He liked to bind her wrists as well, and she didn't object to that. She was less sure about the nipple clamps, but the one night he'd convinced her to try them, she had nearly blacked out from the orgasm that had ripped through her body when he finally released them and laved her nipples with his tongue, plunging three fingers inside her and letting his wet cock trail up her thigh. He'd come over her stomach that night as she lay there, dazed and fucked out, watching him fist himself and shoot thick, white strands all over her body, whispering to her about rubbing it into her bruised nipples and then licking it off.

She tightened and convulsed around his fingers once more in sobbing release when he did just that.

Her body felt alive in ways she'd never imagined. She was a romantic, really, and had never been one for sex-only relationships, what with her tendency to fall hard when she did let herself fall. It wasn't a good idea to fall for Bill, though, that much was clear. There couldn't possibly be a future with a man who wanted to tie her up and make her beg him to stop, after all. No matter what he said, it just wasn't normal. How could she ever trust a man like that, or keep him happy for longer than a few weeks? Surely he would notice some other blushing submissive-in-waiting, and chuck Tonks to the side in favour of a new woman to break in.

It was hard for her to admit how far she'd already fallen, though. It was hard for her to admit that no matter how much she tried to convince herself that she was doing this to please him, she was really doing it just as much to please herself. She liked it. She really liked it. It was appalling to her, if she thought too hard on it, that as a woman who had always prided herself on her independence, her feminism, even, she could let a man reduce her to a puddle of incoherence from the very thought of kneeling before him and letting him have his way with her.

It went against everything she thought she believed in, and in the darkness of the night, asleep with Bill beside her and his hand resting gently on her hip, she feared that once the novelty of it wore off, and the pleasure dulled to routine, she might come to resent him for it.

*

"So I said to the Ridgeback keeper, 'You trying to sell a tooth or buy an egg?' Because honestly, the way he goes on and on about how his Matilda's got a longer tail and a wider snout than my Muriel, that ruddy beast had better have a song to sing me when I take his shift next week." Charlie tossed the rest of his beer down his throat and wiped his mouth. "Anyway. How's the Ministry?"

Tonks sipped her own beer and rolled her eyes. "Oh, Merlin's tits. You know how it is. Got to get eight signatures before you can use the loo."

"Fucking hell. That bad still?"

She shrugged. "I've been on paperwork duty all bloody week, catching up with reports that Shacklebolt won't make time to fill out."

"Bastard." Charlie gestured at the waitress for another beer.

"Nah, he's just busy. He and your dad are doing the most for the Order from inside the Ministry, right? So, sure, I can cover for him in the Auror offices." She shrugged again and rubbed her eyes. "Fucking knackered, though."

He eyed her. "You sure it's just from work?" he asked lightly, winking at the waitress as she set his drink down.

She raised an eyebrow. "As opposed to...?"

It was his turn to shrug. "Don't know." He paused, taking a gulp. "Looked like you were having a bit of trouble walking in here, is all."

She tilted her head to the side, not quite able to believe he'd just said that. "What the hell does that mean?"

"What? Don't get pissed off about it." He wiped his mouth again. "Just wondering if you're still getting off with Bill."

"Getting off." She glared at him. "I thought we'd been through this."

He shrugged.

"Look, I told you: I'm sorry you saw what you saw, all right, but it's not your business."

"You looked fucking shell-shocked, Tonks!" he blurted, leaning forward across the table. "I don't believe for a second that he didn't force you to do something you didn't want to do that night!"

She closed her eyes. "He didn't, Charlie, okay? So just, stop this. I'm sorry if it's weird for you, me and Bill, but you have to shut up about it." She looked away, trying to think of a way to change the subject.

"All right, yeah, it is weird for me, and you know why? I know him, okay, a hell of a lot better than you do, and he is not someone you should be dating."

She threw her head back and laughed, her eyes wide. "Well, pardon me! I had no idea, Charlie. You're right. I'll break it off right this second, because you told me to." She took another swallow of beer and shook her head at him.

"Tonks." He reached across the table and grabbed her hand, holding it firmly in both of his. When she looked up at him, she found intense eyes on her and a look she'd never seen before on Charlie's face. "Please. I'm not trying to be a dickhead here, I'm really not. I know you're a big girl, and you can make your own decisions, and all of that. But I just–" He paused, moving his eyes over her shoulder and clenching his jaw. "There are some things you should know about him."

She had to stop herself from laughing. From the sounds of it, Charlie didn't know his brother half as well as he thought he did, and he would be rather surprised to find out that Tonks probably knew many more things about him than Charlie did, but she decided to humour him. "Like what?" she asked, pulling her hand back and sitting back in her chair, her arms folded over her chest.

"Don't humour me," he warned, his eyes narrowing. "I'm serious about this."

She frowned. "Fine," she said after a pause. "I'm listening to you, all right? What is it?"

"He's never had a girlfriend for longer than a few months, for one thing," began Charlie, "and with some of them – a lot of them, actually – it ends really badly. Like, Muggle police badly." He gave her a pointed look.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I mean, Muggles call their police on him."

She stared at him.

"Witches must go for their wands and try to chop his bollocks off for the shit he tries, so he tends to date Muggles. He always gets the charges dropped, but yeah, I'm not kidding. He's just– he's not very nice to women, okay? That's the best way I can put it. He's got some Head Boy complex still going on or something, I don't even fucking know what it is, but he can be bossy as all fuck, a real bastard when he wants to be."

She kept staring, unable to formulate a response.

"I've heard him, Tonks," he insisted. "I've heard some of the things he's said to them, when he thinks no one's listening. He whispers to them when we're at parties. 'Get me a drink, slut, and if it's got too much ice, you'll be crawling on your hands and knees for the rest of the week.' Shit like that."

Tonks felt her heart begin to pound, thinking about Bill's deep voice saying that exact sort of thing to her, and the way her body usually responded when he did. "Oh, come on," she said with a laugh. "That's just a game. Sex stuff, probably."

He shook his head. "I don't think so," he said, and he wasn't laughing. "I've seen the bruises, too, on their arms and neck. Ankles, sometimes. Shoulders, if they're wearing sleeveless dresses."

She subconsciously rubbed at one hand, pulling the sleeves of her shirt down to cover the faintly darkened circles around her own wrists. "That's, well." She swallowed, trying to sound nonchalant. "Maybe they were into bondage or something." She forced a laugh. "Not really enough to call it abuse, is it?"

"Then why do they call the police on him?" said Charlie in challenge, lifting his chin, and she blinked.

No. This was ridiculous. Charlie clearly didn't know about Bill's lifestyle or his activities as a Dom, and he had rushed to conclusions that weren't accurate or fair to Bill. She knew the truth; she'd seen the truth up close, been intimately involved in the truth of Bill's life and sexuality. "Well, I don't know," she bit out, "but it sounds like those women didn't really know what they were doing with him. I know what I'm doing," she clarified, as Charlie opened his mouth to protest. "Look, mate, it's good of you to be worried, but honestly, it's okay." She leaned forward, smiling at him. "I'm sorry I'm shagging your brother, all right? I know it's odd for you, when we've been friends for so long, but, look, I like him, okay? I really like him."

Charlie watched her carefully, and she felt her face begin to heat under the weight of his gaze. It was almost endearing, the way he was so worried about her, but that was just Charlie: he'd been involved in every decision she'd ever made since they were at school – from her choice of career to her choice of boyfriend. "You sure you know what you're doing?" he asked quietly, dropping his eyes and fidgeting with his glass, and she reached out and took his hand, squeezing it until he looked up at her again.

"Yes," she insisted. "I do."

*

Oh, God, if only Charlie could see her now.

They were in Bill's living room this time, naked and wet from ice cubes and sweat and the round of mutual oral sex they had already engaged in that afternoon. Tonks was on her hands and knees, her wrists bound in front of her and her elbows scraping the carpet as she moved forward on Bill's command.

"Slow down, slut," he murmured, standing across the room with the small whip in his hand. "Unless you're just too eager to feel this strap on your back as I fuck you."

"No, sir," she whimpered on cue, slowing her pace. "I'm not eager at all."

"You don't want to get fucked?" The quiet but firm tone of voice he used in their sex games unravelled her nearly as much as the sex itself, and she had to control the shudder that rippled through her body.

"No, sir. Please, sir. Don't punish me."

"You came too quickly last time," he said, the whip audibly sliding over his palm. "You promised me you could wait, that I could lick you clean and you wouldn't come until I said so, but you failed at that, didn't you?

A wave of heat passed through her at the memory of his tongue sliding over her clit, pressing against her just enough to leave her helpless and moaning against him, coming hard despite her best efforts to hold off. "Yes, sir," she breathed. Oh yes, if Charlie could see her now, he would definitely have a thing or two to say about it. She could see his disapproving frown in her head, the way his lips would part as he'd shake his head. Fucking hell, Tonks, he'd say. What the fuck are you doing crawling for him? She closed her eyes briefly and pushed Charlie out of her mind, focusing instead on Bill's voice and the slow slide of his words over her shivering body.

"This is exactly how I love to see you," he murmured as she moved closer to him. "On your hands and knees for me, bowing down before me. Come here."

She reached his feet and glanced up at him, her pulse racing at the sight of the whip in his hand. This was something new: a small device with multiple branches, like a feather duster with leather straps instead of feathers. He held the base of it in his hand and let the tendrils dangle over her back, lightly brushing her skin. She shivered again and ducked her head down, closing her eyes against the musty smell of the living room carpet.

God, maybe Charlie was right. Maybe this wasn't something she should be doing.

"That's right," Bill was muttering above her, moving around behind her so that she lost sight of his feet. The first blow of the whip caught her off guard, and she sucked in a sharp breath, her back stinging. "That's what you get for coming before I say so," he said quietly, as Tonks pressed her forehead to the carpet and clenched her fists in the bonds over her head.

She felt the air currents shift as he pulled the device back again and landed another blow. It wasn't too hard, not exactly; she didn't feel cut or bruised, only stung, but it was still more than she was used to. Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes, and she swallowed. "Please," she whispered into the carpet, forgetting for a moment that the word would only urge him on.

"What's that?" he mocked. "Don't tell me you're enjoying this, slut – your arse in the air and your pretty back all laid out for me to lash? Do you feel it yet?" he added, his voice deepening. "Do you feel how every blow connects directly to your cunt? Give me five more, and you'll be begging me to fuck you."

"No, I won't," she managed, her back on fire and her mind muddled. God, no, Charlie was right. This was sadistic. This was awful. This was not what she'd signed on for, when she'd agreed to beg him a little and suck his cock if he told her to. The contract might have included flogging – she couldn't remember right now – but that didn't mean she couldn't change her mind... did it? Panic crept up her spine, and she started to feel cold, her body aching.

Bill dropped to his knees behind her and she squeezed her eyes closed as she felt his cock nudge at her. She was still wet from earlier, that wasn't the problem, but this wasn't quite what she wanted. Her back stung and her pride felt bruised more than anything else. Charlie was right. Charlie was fucking right. Bill got off on this shit, on leaving women with bruises and scratches and psyches that knew nothing but his voice in their ear, over and over again, telling them they were sluts. A tear slipped down her cheek as he pushed inside her, clutching at her hips and groaning deeply.

"You loose fucking whore," he breathed, laughing softly. "I can just slide right inside you, can't I? You're always so fucking wet for me; you know you love my cock. Now, are you going to be a good girl and come when I say?" He thrust forward again, lodging his cock deep inside her.

"Bill, stop," she whispered, turning her head to the side so he might hear her. "Don't call me a whore."

He was quiet for a moment, and then he withdrew his cock and slammed back in, stilling himself against her arse. "What did you say?" he muttered fiercely, reaching down to the floor for the whip again.

"Stop it. Really. I'm not your slut. I'm just–" Her face was wet now, her back stinging and her pride crumbling. She cried out as another blow hit, the red welts blossoming in her mind as he struck her. He trailed the leather down her back as his cock pushed in again, and he began fucking her in earnest. Gradually, from the back of her mind, two words began to form. She resisted them at first, her nails digging into her palms and her cheek scraping against the carpet.

Fire call.

"Take it," he muttered to her, pushing his cock in deeper with a new blow of the whip to her back. "God, I love you like this, spread out for me like this..."

The words took shape and she pushed them from her mind to her tongue, breathing hard and trying to form her lips around them. "Stop," she tried again. "It's too much."

"Stop talking," he ordered, his hands moving over her stomach and breasts. "You don't say another word until you come, on my command. Understand?"

She shook her head against the carpet, tears flowing down her face. "Bill," she pleaded once more. "Please stop."

"I told you not to talk!" he bellowed, raising the whip again. The blow landed hard over her back and she raised her head at last.

"Fire call," she sobbed as he lifted his hand again. "Bill, God, no! Fire call."

The room went still, as though all the air had been sucked out of it.

*

Holy. Fucking. Hell.

Bill blinked for a split second, his mouth gaping open and the whip raised in his hand.

What did she say?

His body went rigid as his eyes darted down to her, stretched out beneath him and sobbing quietly. Oh God. Oh, God. He pulled out of her quickly, scrambling to his feet and sparing a second to close his eyes against the raging arousal still coursing through him. His cock was thick and wet, on the verge of coming, and he took a deep breath to calm himself down. His eyes darting around the room, he located a blanket on the sofa and grabbed it, dropping to his knees beside her and covering her with it.

"Tonks. Shh. Okay, it's okay." He knelt beside her and rubbed his hand lightly over her back through the blanket. "Can you... sit up?"

She slowly sat back on her heels, flexing her wrists and ducking her head down to avoid looking at him.

"Oh, shit. Here." He muttered a few words at her wrists and waved his hand, and the bonds disappeared. She still didn't look up at him.

"Thanks," she mumbled, wrapping the blanket around her shoulders. He saw the shudder that passed through her.

"Listen," he whispered, his hand moving up to the back of her neck and then stroking her hair. "Shh. God, I'm sorry. I am so sorry. You should never have to– I should– I mean, I should know when to–"

She swallowed. "It's all right," she said softly, getting to her feet.

"No, here, just sit for a minute, okay?"

She shook her head. "I'm going to go now," she said, her voice hardening. "Just–" She held up a hand. "Let me go, okay?"

He stared at her with wide eyes, nodding slowly. "I just– okay. If that's what you want to– But, I mean, can I just talk to you before you–"

She shook her head again, Summoning her clothing and quickly pulling her blouse and trousers on. "I'll get the rest later," she said, waving her hand at the room.

"Tonks, please." He rose to his feet and followed her to the door. "Are you hurt?" he choked, his mind swimming. He'd only ever had one woman use the safe word before, and that was years ago, back when he was still new at this, still training. To have pushed Tonks so far that she'd had to use it was unforgivable. It was his responsibility to keep her safe. He'd promised her that she would be safe.

"No." She gave him a weak smile, and he felt his heart drop to his knees. Her face was wet and her lips were swollen, and worst of all, there was fear in her eyes. His stomach turned over. "Just let me go home," she said quietly. "I'll– talk to you later, okay?"

He swallowed and nodded, trying to sort through his anger and embarrassment and disappointment in himself all at once. "Okay, yeah, I just– Are you sure you're–"

The door clicked shut behind her, and he sighed, leaning back against the wall and covering his face with his hands.

*

"So, you'd better quit wandering around this house in your underwear, sweetheart. Molly's threatening to bring Ron and Hermione over to stay, and pack the house with every other sod she can think of." Sirius grinned at her across the kitchen, eyeing her neck-to-ankles robe. "Trying to – what's that phrase? Oh, yeah – keep an eye on me."

"It's always about you, isn't it?" Tonks sighed, forcing a smile as the kettle began to whistle.

"Naturally." He winked at her, and she laughed despite herself, pouring the tea.

"What's all about me?"

She looked up as Charlie wandered into the kitchen, yawning and scratching his chest. She narrowed her eyes at him. "Don't tell me you just woke up," she said. "It's nearly noon, you lazy sod."

He grinned at her and grabbed a mug from the cupboard.

"More importantly," said Sirius, "don't tell me you slept here? They don't even tell me who's in my own fucking house anymore," he muttered, pulling a flask from his pocket and splashing his tea.

"Nah, I slept at the Burrow. Got in late last night. Just for a few days, till the new Fireball goes into labour. Fuck, but that's going to be a mess." He shook his head sadly before glancing up at Tonks and Sirius again. "Anyway. Less than twelve hours and mum's already driving me nuts. Mind if I sit around here a bit?" he asked Sirius, who tossed back another gulp of spiked tea.

"Sure," he said, getting up and moving to the door. "You can keep my cousin, the nun, company."

She threw a dish towel at him and he laughed, heading out the door. Charlie looked over at her, his eyes moving up and down her body. "He's right," he said with a laugh. "What the fuck are you wearing?"

"It's comfortable," she protested. "So shut the fuck up." She tugged at the collar of the robe and swallowed. It wasn't comfortable, actually; the thing was eight years old and too tight at the neck and shoulders, but it covered her up, and that was all she wanted.

He eyed her. "Doesn't look that comfortable," he said, still grinning, and she flipped him a two-fingered salute as she carried her tea over to the table and sat down.

"You can get yours yourself," she snapped, jerking her head at the teapot.

He rolled his eyes and walked over to fill his mug. "So, what's new?" he asked casually, and she sighed.

"Nothing. You?"

"Nothing."

"Quit fucking smirking at me."

He leaned back against the counter by the stove, clearly enjoying himself. "I'm not smirking. Just enjoying the view. Haven't seen that robe since the fourth-year Solstice dance, have I?"

He ducked as she threw a spoon at him, narrowly missing his ear.

"Come on, what's the occasion?"

"Charlie, honestly. My clothes are dirty, all right? You want to go do my laundry and pick an outfit for me, you go right ahead."

"What have you got on underneath?" he asked, sipping his tea.

"Nothing," she said, lifting her chin. "That the answer you want?" She smiled despite herself. Charlie was maddening as hell most of the time, but at least he took her mind off her other problems, none of which she wanted to think about at the moment. She would have to deal with Bill soon enough. He had respected her wishes not to follow her home last night, but she'd slept badly and retreated to Grimmauld Place early, where at least she knew she'd have others around if he tried to confront her. She had to figure out what it was she wanted before she could talk to him, because without a clear idea what –

"Divestimo!" said Charlie, and she was startled out of her thoughts as she looked up in alarm to find him pointing his wand at her.

"Oh, what the fuck?" she cried as her robe fell to the floor and she found herself sitting in the kitchen in her knickers and a camisole. "You stupid fucking– Expelliarmus!" she shouted, jumping to her feet and concentrating the magic through her outstretched fingers before she could even locate her wand. Charlie's wand flew into her fist and she held it tight, glaring at him. "You want me to tie you to that counter as well?" she challenged. "Keep it up, fuckwit."

"I think you're the one getting tied up," he muttered, his lips dry and his eyes wide as he stared at her.

Oh, fuck. She glanced down at her body and closed her eyes briefly, before bending and picking up the robe at her feet. She struggled to put it back on quickly, but Charlie crossed the room before she could finish, taking his wand back, pulling the material away from her and moving his fingers gently over her wrists.

"Please tell me this is not what I think it is," he said quietly, taking in the purple bands circling her wrists.

"It's not what you think it is," she bit out, snatching her hands back, but he was stronger. He held her shoulders and kept her still as his eyes moved over the nips on her neck and collarbone, before turning her around and letting out a strangled gasp at the sight of her upper back. She knew it looked bad – red welts lined up in vertical strips down her back. The lashes hadn't cut her, but they had left harsher marks than she'd counted on, and the memory of the night before closed in around her. She fell limp in Charlie's arms as his fingers brushed over her.

"Are you kidding me?" he whispered fiercely, and she felt his fingers begin to tremble. "Are you fucking kidding me? I told you he would do this! I told you, and you just– God." He paused, pulling her to his chest. "Okay, I'm sorry. That's not– I mean– Are you okay?" he said at last, stroking her hair.

"I'm fine," she insisted, pulling back and wiping her face. "It's fine. We just got a bit– carried away last night."

"We?" He glared at her.

"Yes, we. He doesn't do anything I don't want him to do." Despite all that had happened, she still felt a strong need to defend Bill.

Charlie took a step back, looking at her. "You're a fucking liar," he said, his eyes blazing. "And a fucking textbook case! Holy shit, Tonks. It's your fault, not his? Listen to yourself!"

She shook her head. "Look, it's just– it's not your concern, okay? I can take care of myself." She wrapped her arms around herself, shivering.

"Hey." Charlie reached out for her again, running his hands up her arms and pulling her towards him. "Hey, okay, shh. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell. I just– Here." He held her tightly, his hands smoothing over her bruised back and over the back of her neck, light touches that warmed and comforted her. He moved one hand up into her hair and looked down at her, smiling sadly. "You're just– I want to protect you," he said, his lips brushing her forehead.

"I know," she sighed, sinking into his embrace for the time being without questioning it. It was a bad idea, whatever he had in his head, but he felt so warm and safe. She slid her arms around his waist and pressed her body against him. His lips worked from her forehead down her face, dusting soft kisses over her cheeks and the tip of her nose, safe and almost chaste, before he found her mouth and all thoughts of chastity flew from her mind.

He kissed her softly but with an underlying hunger, his lips parted against hers as he slowly pulled her bottom lip into his mouth, his tongue tracing gently over it. She dug her nails into his back and held on as best she could, sudden arousal coursing through her. She parted her own lips and deepened the kiss, moaning quietly with him and feeling his body tense against her, holding himself in check. His fingers slid down her back and she shuddered with sensation, the memory of the harshness with Bill the night before warring with the feel of Charlie's soft lips against her now.

"Charlie," she murmured, pulling away at last and sighing as she dropped her head to his shoulder.

"No," he whispered. "Don't say that. Not in that tone. Don't give me the talk. Just– let me enjoy this for a minute, okay? If it's never going to happen again?"

"I didn't say it was never going to happen again," she said, smiling.

"You– what? Is it?" He moaned in relief. "Okay, God, because I just– you're so fucking incredible, and I just–" He paused, kissing the top of her head again. "Be with me," he whispered into her hair. "Not him. I can't handle you being with him. He doesn't appreciate you, and I would, God, I would worship you, you know. Anything you wanted, I'd do it for you."

She closed her eyes and fought the urge to push him away before he said any more. No, dammit, this wasn't what she wanted. His body was warm and safe around hers, it was true, and his lips sparked something in her, but when she closed her eyes, all she could see was Bill – his hair loose around his shoulders as he advanced on her; his thighs strong and hard as she crawled towards him; his cock hot and thick inside her as he fucked her...

... and his shock and terror last night when he'd realised he'd pushed her too far. It was a version of Bill she'd never quite seen before, except that night in the kitchen when he'd first explained the Dom/sub relationship to her. He'd earnestly promised to take care of her that night, promised her that if she agreed to the game and let herself be dominated, he would make sure she was safe and happy in her pleasure.

"Would you tie me up if I asked you to?" she asked Charlie before she could stop herself, raising her head and looking him in the eye.

"I– what?"

"Would you push my head down and make me suck your cock?"

His jaw clenched. "No. What the hell are you–"

She paused. "Would you whip me, knowing the exact moment the pain would turn to pleasure and I'd be pushing back against you, begging you to shag me?"

He closed his eyes, his nostrils flaring. "Why are you doing this?" he whispered. "Is that what you want, a man who fucking forces you, leaves bruises on you like this?" He stepped back and wiped his hand over his mouth, his face colouring. "I don't get it. Why does he do that? No, why would you want that? It's not right, Tonks." He shook his head. "You could have anyone, you know. You could have me." He dropped his eyes, seeing her robe on the floor and bending slowly to pick it up. He handed it to her and sighed.

"I know," she said, rubbing her eyes, "but there are some things you don't understand – about me, but mostly about your brother."

He stared at her.

"I think it's time we explained it to you," she added. "Or, I can, at least, since he's not here. Will you let me explain it?" She pulled the robe over her shoulders and buttoned it, watching him carefully. He held her gaze for a moment before dropping his eyes and shaking his head.

"God, those fucking eyes of yours," he said with a pained laugh. "Of course I can't say no to you when you look at me like that. Fine." He pulled out a chair and dropped into it, slumping over the table. "Explain it. I imagine it starts with, He's got a monster cock that I can't get enough of." He ran his hand over his face, looking miserable.

"It's worse than that," she said, smiling sadly as she took the chair across from him. "I think I'm in love with him."

*

The sun set late that night as Tonks sat on a park bench with Bill in the middle of London, watching couples stroll by and ducks floating casually around the pond, as though they hadn't a care in the world. The yellow sky shifted to orange as they sat close together, hips and thighs touching, but each staring out at the pond, hands in their laps.

"So... how did he take it?" Bill was saying, and Tonks shrugged.

"Not great, at first. He still thinks it's insane that people would want to do any of that."

"But... people do," said Bill softly, and Tonks finally glanced at him.

"Yeah. People like me do, anyway."

He turned his head and caught her eye. "Yeah?"

She nodded.

"What if... well, what if I don't believe you?"

She laughed. "I guess I deserved that."

"No, that's not what I–"

"It's okay. I haven't given you much reason to believe me."

"No, Tonks, God. Don't say that. You've given me every reason, I just– want to make sure. I mean, you scared the hell out of me last night."

She dropped her head. "I know. I'm sorry."

"God, no, don't be sorry." He reached out and took her chin gently between his thumb and forefinger, turning her to face him again. "I got carried away. I told you that you'd be safe with me, that you'd enjoy it, and I fucked that up." He bent down to kiss her, his sudden shyness taking her breath away. "I'm really sorry," he murmured against her lips, and she shivered in his arms.

"I know," she said softly, pulling back and looking out at the pond again. "I have to ask you something, though."

"Sure, anything."

"Charlie said, well, that there had been... issues with... Muggle police?"

"Ah." Bill was silent for a moment, and Tonks dared not look at him. "I made some mistakes in the past in choosing which women to get involved with. This probably isn't something you want to know, my history with other women, but it's probably something you do need to know, so..." He took a deep breath. "Usually I stick with the fetish clubs, girls who know the scene and know what they're getting into, but that's... well. It's just sex, really, and occasionally I've wanted more than that out of a relationship." He turned to her, nudging her shoulder with his. "Like now, for instance."

She smiled a bit, but didn't look at him yet.

"So, there have been times when I've tried to date women who didn't know the scene," he continued, slumping back against the bench. "They agreed, when I explained it to them, but then... well, you saw for yourself what can happen."

She glanced over at him at last.

"A family member or a friend sees bruises, and all hell breaks loose. It's happened twice – not counting you."

She winced.

"The first time, my girlfriend's brother called the police on me, but she agreed to drop the charges the same day, and we split up, as amicably as possible. The second..." He paused, staring out at the pond.

"Not so amicably?"

He nodded sadly. "You could say that. "Sheila and I were together a long time, and it was just as I was figuring out that this was a sexual culture I wanted to be part of, that it wasn't just a passing fancy that I should keep hidden, or be ashamed of. I went through sort of an... entitlement phase, I guess you could say. She got scared, and I didn't handle it very well." He swallowed, kneading his hands together in his lap. "She never used the safe word," he continued, shaking his head, "and I was too far gone to realise that she should have. She was okay," he added quickly, darting a glance at Tonks. "She wasn't hurt, I swear. But she was scared. And she was a Muggle, so she called the police the next day and I spent the week in jail for assault."

Tonks was silent, watching the ducks glide across the pond as the orange sky faded.

"Charlie bailed me out, made sure mum and dad never knew," he continued, grimacing. "Turned out the arresting officer had backpacked around Romania the year before, knew a bit about dragons and wizards. Charlie convinced him it had all been a misunderstanding, that it was just some magic gone awry. I had to promise to stay away from Muggles, and Sheila reluctantly agreed, so he let me out, but Charlie... I don't think he ever forgave me."

"And you never explained it to him?"

He shook his head. "I wanted to, but I just didn't think he'd listen."

"So he thinks you just like to beat up women."

Bill nodded, letting out a pained breath. "Yeah. Nice, huh? It's put a bit of a dent in our relationship, as you can tell." He gazed out at the pond. "We used to be close, too. We made a great team, Charlie and I. But he's been a dick to me for years now because of this." He paused. "I can't believe you told him."

"I know. I'm sorry, I should have waited for you to be there, but it just– seemed like a good time."

He nodded again. "No, it's fine. I'm glad you did it, although I have to say, I never thought you would be the one to explain or defend it, not on a day like today." He glanced at her nervously, and she laughed.

"I never thought I would, either."

"Tonks. What happened last night? And more importantly..." He sighed again, holding her gaze. "...how can I fix it?"

She thought about that. "I don't like the whip," she said at last, and he let out a relieved laugh.

"God, that's easy, then. We never have to use it again. I'm really sorry. I thought it would be okay."

She smiled shyly. "And I don't... I don't know." She paused. "I guess I forgot the game for a minute. I didn't like you calling me a slut."

His mouth fell open. "I– holy shit, I don't really think you're a slut, you know."

"I know, but it's just–"

"No, Tonks, I really don't. Shit." He scrubbed at his face.

"I mean, I like it sometimes. In moderation, I guess." She paused, shaking her head. "God, I'm picky, aren't I? Call me slut no more than twice. Five times is the absolute limit, and after seven, I'll use the safe word." She laughed, dropping her head to her hands.

"You're allowed to be picky," he said, leaning over her and moving his hand in small motions over her back. "Slut in moderation." He nodded. "Got it. Same for whore, I imagine?"

She grinned at him. "Yeah. Because I'm not actually a–"

"I know you're not!" he cried. "Oh my God, I know that! Is that really what– oh, bloody hell." He was silent for a moment, and then he laughed again. "I'm sorry," he said, shaking his head. "No, I know it's not funny, I'm not laughing at you, I just– I get carried away sometimes." He face coloured, and she couldn't help but smile at him.

"I got scared," she admitted quietly, biting her lip. "Like... Sheila, I guess."

He put his arms around her and pulled her close, kissing her forehead and stroking her hair. "Yeah," he murmured. "This doesn't work if you're scared, though. Are you sure you like the rest of it?" He pulled back a bit to look at her, his blue eyes so earnest and desperate, she couldn't believe she'd ever distrusted him. "If you're scared, or faking it, or just trying to please me, it just– No. It doesn't work like that."

"Do you remember what you said to me, when you first told me about all of this?" she said softly, leaning in to bite at his earlobe.

"Mm?"

"You said it can be embarrassing at first, to admit I like it."

He nodded, tilting his head back as her lips moved over his neck. "Are you embarrassed, then?" he murmured.

"Yeah." She nibbled her way down his neck and over his jaw. "It's hard to admit that I like letting you take control like that. I like... crawling for you. Calling you sir. Bending over and letting you do anything you want to me." She paused, considering whether or not to admit this. "Why do you think I didn't charm the bruises away?" she said at last, feeling her face heat.

He groaned, grabbing her with strong hands on each side of her face and crushing his mouth to hers. She moaned, parting his lips and letting him take control of the kiss. This was what had been missing when Charlie had kissed her. She never would have known the difference before, but as much as she trusted Bill and felt safe with him, she didn't actually want a man who would take care of her all the time, or kiss her like she would break. She clutched at his shirt and let his tongue push into her mouth, claiming the kiss with confidence and letting both of them know – and anyone else who might be watching – that she was his. The power of it overwhelmed her, and she felt her arousal mount quickly. She wanted him again, and soon.

But that wasn't all she wanted.

She pulled away from him reluctantly, dragging her tongue along her bottom lip as he watched her, breathing deeply. "How much is the submissive allowed to ask for?" she murmured, her breath still mingling with his.

"Anything," he said, grinning. "That's the beauty of it. You can make all the rules, and I only have to obey them."

She hesitated. "Have you ever ordered your sub to fuck someone else?" she asked, her face flaming.

He stared at her. "While I watch, you mean?" She nodded, and he parted his lips. "Yes," he said quietly after a moment. "Not often, but– I have. Yes." He paused again. "Is that what you want?"

"It's... a fantasy," she admitted. "But not to make you jealous," she added pointedly, smoothing her palm over his chest. "Not to play games. Just– I think I have some unfinished business with someone, and I think it might help him understand you better, if he watched us."

Bill dropped his eyes. "Ah," he said. "Charlie." He let out a long breath, leaning back against the bench. "That's getting into some dangerous territory, even for me," he said at last, glancing over at her.

"Yeah." She held his gaze for a moment before an impish thought crept into her mind. "You'd be completely safe," she added mischievously. "If you wanted to stop, you know the safe word."

His eyes widened and he barked a laugh, looping an arm around her and pulling her to his chest. "Slut," he purred, and she grinned against his shirt. "All right. Tell me what you have in mind, and I'll see what I can do. You're lucky I love you, you know," he added almost absent-mindedly, his chin resting on the top of her head.

She froze, not wanting to move, lest it alert him to what he'd just said.

"Oh. I mean, it's just that–"

"Yeah," she said quickly, raising her head and kissing him to stop him from backtracking on the statement. When she pulled back again, the scenario she envisioned for the three of them was clear in her mind. "Yeah, I am."

*

God and fuck, she wanted him to do that?

When she'd finished outlining the scenario for him, Bill sat on the bench in a daze, his body pulsing with desire and his mind barely able to formulate a coherent sentence. He had never been so turned on in his life, and she was going to make him wait until the next night to do it.

He rose on unsteady legs and saw her home, gritting his teeth against her insistence that they wait for Charlie before shagging again. He couldn't help it, though; he got home and pulled his cock out right there in his living room, wanking himself so hard he nearly blacked out.

*

She took Charlie's hand as they entered Bill's flat, leading him down the hall to the bedroom and stepping quietly inside. Bill was standing by the window, gazing out at the London street lamps with his arms folded over his chest. He turned when they came in, his face impassive. His eyes moved between them and then up and down, and Tonks felt her body already start to heat under his gaze.

"You've explained to him how this will work?" he asked her, nodding at Charlie before turning back to draw the curtains, and she moistened her lips.

"Yes, sir," she said, ignoring the rate at which Charlie's head whirled to the side and he gaped at her, wide-eyed.

"Charlie?" said Bill. "Are we clear?"

He hesitated, and Tonks squeezed his hand, turning to face him. "You wanted to understand," she reminded him, and he sighed, nodding.

"Yeah," he said at last. "We're clear."

"You both know the safe word?" he added, giving them a pointed look.

Tonks nodded, gesturing for Charlie to do the same.

"Yeah," he repeated.

"Good," said Bill, eyeing his brother closely. "If she doesn't say it, then she's completely okay – no matter what happens," he added, holding Charlie's gaze. "That's got to be absolutely clear to you."

Charlie let out a deep breath, pressing his lips together and nodding. "Yeah. I get it."

Bill nodded, gesturing at a chair in the corner. "All right. Sit there."

He sauntered over, tossing Tonks a concerned glance over his shoulder before sitting down, his legs spread wide and his thumb tapping nervously against one thigh.

"How are you, gorgeous?" Bill murmured to Tonks, turning away from Charlie and resting his hands on her shoulders.

"Mm, fine," she said, curling an arm around his neck and pulling him down for a deep kiss. That underlying hunger that always permeated Bill's kisses was there already, and she was willing to wager he was already hard for her under his trousers. The depth of his arousal was still a source of fascination for her, that the things they did – even the things they only talked about doing – could inflame him like this.

"There," he said to Charlie when he pulled away from her. "You see? I can be a wonderful boyfriend. Very loving." He turned back to Tonks and pulled his bottom lip under his teeth before grabbing the hem of his shirt and yanking it over his head in one motion. "Get on the bed," he ordered her, tossing the shirt to the floor.

She obeyed without a thought, crawling to the head of the bed and sitting back with her legs spread.

"Very good," he murmured. "She gets rewarded when she's good," he told Charlie, who was looking a bit shell-shocked. "Now, I hear you know a few charms for getting a woman's clothes off, little brother," he said with a smirk, and Charlie's eyes flew to Tonks.

"I told you I was in love with him," she said with a sly smile. "You really didn't think I'd tell him about your ability to Vanish a robe?" She glanced over at Bill at that, and found him moving on to the bed towards her, settling between her legs and bending to kiss her deeply.

"Mm, no fair," he murmured. "Say things like that and I'll mess up my lines."

She laughed and pushed him back, and he reluctantly crawled back off the bed, standing up straight again and wiping his smile away.

"Take her clothes off," he ordered Charlie. When Charlie hesitated, groping for his wand in his back pocket and then holding it limply, his eyes darting between the two of them, Bill walked slowly towards him, stopping to loom over him. "I won't ask you again," said Bill, his voice quiet but firm, and Tonks felt a shiver down her thighs at the sound of it.

Charlie glanced at Tonks again, his eyes wide. "Is he serious?" he whispered, as though Bill couldn't hear him.

Tonks smiled. "Oh, he's serious," she said softly, moving her hand down her inner thigh and drawing Charlie's gaze along with it. "You don't want to disobey him." A shiver jolted through her again when she saw the way Charlie's face changed as he processed his brother's words. His lips parted and his chest began to rise and fall a little bit faster, and Tonks licked her lips as she witnessed the very moment Charlie suddenly understood why this whole thing would appeal to Tonks – or to anyone, for that matter.

"Yes, sir," said Charlie, a bit breathless, and he seemed dazed that the words had actually come out of his mouth. His eyes flew to Tonks and he raised his wand before he could change his mind. "Divestimo!" he said, his voice trembling, and Tonks gasped as her clothing melted away and fell to the floor, leaving her naked on the bed.

"Good," said Bill, watching the pair of them from the foot of the bed. "The way this works, Charlie," he added, "is that if you obey me, you get to stay."

Charlie opened his mouth as if to say something, but then closed it again, swallowing and nodding. "All right," he mumbled.

"As for you," continued Bill, grabbing each of the bed posts at the foot of the bed and spreading himself open as he stood, gazing down at Tonks, "I think you enjoyed that a bit too much."

"I didn't, sir. I swear I didn't." She curled her legs up, trying to appear modest and shocked to find herself naked on the bed. The look on Bill's face was melting her from the inside out, though; she wasn't sure she could last as long as she needed to. "Can I have my clothes back, sir? It's cold here."

"No clothes," said Bill, still watching her try to cover herself. "I suppose it wouldn't be so cold if you had someone to warm you up, would it?" He laughed suddenly. "But that's too easy. Pretty little slu–" He paused, biting his lip. "–girl like you, bet you want to just stretch out on this bed and let us take turns fucking you. Is that what you want?"

"No, sir, I couldn't possibly take both of you." Her eyes darted between Bill and Charlie, and she had to bite down a grin at the look on Charlie's face.

"Holy fuck," muttered Charlie, rubbing his hands over his face, and Bill turned sharply to him.

"Did you say something?"

Charlie clamped his mouth shut again and shook his head, and Bill turned back to Tonks. "My brother seems concerned about your well-being," he said, his tone light and mocking. "I don't suppose you've told him about all the times you've been on your knees for me, or bent over for me, or strapped to the bed for me, or about how much you loved every second of it?"

"No, sir," she said. "Don't tell him, sir, please. He'll think I'm a slut."

"Will he?" Bill turned to Charlie. "How disrespectful. Is that what you'd think of her? Answer me," he added, when Charlie remained silent.

"I– no, of course not. Sir."

"She's very important to me, you know. I can't have you thinking terrible things about her. You know what her only crime is, Charlie?" He moved his hands to his trousers and slowly began unfastening them, pausing before pushing them down.

Charlie shook his head. "No, sir."

"She loves my cock." He wet his lips as he shoved his trousers down and stepped out of them, and both Tonks and Charlie sucked in a sharp breath to see he wasn't wearing anything underneath them. "She'll do anything I say, if I promise her I'll fuck her at the end of it," he continued, his voice casual, as he stood at the foot of the bed and beckoned Tonks towards him with a sharp hand gesture. "Won't you, love?" he asked her softly.

She crawled towards him on her hands and knees, her modesty act disappearing. "Yes, sir," she murmured, stopping in front of him and hovering just over his prick. "What would you like, sir?" she asked, glancing up at him.

"Lick," he told her, his hands wrapped around the bed posts again as he stood between them. "No sucking, not yet, just lick. Show my brother what you're good at."

Tonks kept both hands on the bed and used her tongue alone, darting it out to flick against the head of Bill's prick and slip just inside the slit. She heard Charlie's breathing accelerate across the room, although Bill's remained steady and controlled. She ran her tongue up the length of his prick and then under, lapping lightly at his balls and moving back up to the tip, slowly circling her tongue around it and ghosting over him with her lips. She glanced up then and caught Charlie's eye, watching with fascination as his hands balled into fists at his sides. She couldn't quite tell if he was jealous or aroused, and decided it was probably a combination of both.

"Good girl," said Bill, breathing deeply through his nose. "Now, suck."

She instantly wrapped her hand around the base of his cock at that, guiding it to her mouth and pushing it between her lips. She pressed up with her tongue and moaned loudly for the benefit of both men, working Bill steadily with her mouth. She could almost hear Charlie begin to sweat, his breath ragged and his throat making tiny, whimpering noises. She pulled her lips back and glanced up at Bill, batting her eyelashes.

"He's distracting me, sir," she complained. "I think he wants to touch himself."

Bill looked over his shoulder at Charlie, whose hands were clenched over his thighs. "Is that true, Charlie?" he asked, simultaneously moving one hand to Tonks's head and pushing her face back towards his cock.

"I– oh, shit," murmured Charlie miserably.

"You can touch yourself," Bill agreed, turning back to gaze down at Tonks as she ran her tongue over his cock again. "But if you come too soon, you won't get another chance to fuck her," he added, and Charlie groaned, letting his head fall back against the chair and tearing his trousers open. "That's what you want, isn't it, love?" he murmured to Tonks, his fingers light in her hair. "You want him to fuck you?"

She nodded, feeling her face heat as Bill's cock filled her mouth. Her cunt was already dripping wet, every fantasy she'd ever had already nearly fulfilled. She worried a bit about what this might do to Charlie – she knew he wanted her for himself, and this was slightly manipulative of her and Bill to toy with his emotions like this. But she also thought it would help to get her out of his system if he could have her, just this once. She also hoped it would help him understand Bill's sexuality, and hell, okay, so maybe it would help get Charlie out of her system, as well. She couldn't deny that although she didn't entirely want to date him, he was an incredibly attractive man, and she couldn't pass up the chance to let him shag her. What could she say? She'd turned into a sub with very clear ideas about what she wanted, apparently.

"That's enough," said Bill, lifting his hand from her head and pushing her away.

She let his cock slide from between her lips, licking the tip one last time, and then sat back on her heels to watch Charlie slowly fisting himself in the chair, his chest rising and falling rapidly and his cock pushing through his hand. It was hard and red, and a small thrill slid through her at the thought of having Bill watch his brother shove that cock inside her. She shivered.

"Sit back," ordered Bill, and she obeyed. "Did sucking my cock make you wet for me?" he asked, and then glanced at Charlie. "Or was it watching my brother wank?"

"Both," she said breathlessly, and Bill laughed.

"Slut," he said carefully, tracing his tongue over his bottom lip as the word came out, and she smiled shyly at him, her cunt pulsing. She stretched out on the bed, moving her hands and feet to the four corners, and Bill grabbed his wand from the nearby bureau. "I'm going to tie you up and fuck you now, and he's going to watch me," he said casually, nodding at Charlie. "Is that what you want?"

"No, sir," she whimpered, but she kept her limbs stretched out, hoping Charlie would see through the game and see the appeal of it. She was playing it more transparently than she usually did, for his benefit, but it was still enough to seem like protesting – enough to keep Bill aroused, at least. "It's humiliating, sir. Don't let him see me like this."

"Shut up," growled Bill, raising his wand. With a quick spell, he tied her wrists and ankles to the bed posts, stretching her body out over the bed and putting it all on display. She was centred on the bed so that her knees were slightly bent, allowing her hips to tilt up while her arms stretched out over her head. The insides of her thighs tingled with desire and slight shame at having her entire body open like this for Bill and Charlie's eyes, but the ache in her cunt told her it was exactly what she wanted, as well – exactly how it made her feel in her fantasy.

Bill threw the wand down and crawled over top of her, his prick sliding up her thigh and his mouth moving over her stomach and breasts. He sucked one nipple at a time into his mouth, cupping her breasts with his hands and pushing his tongue slowly over them, sending jolts of pleasure down her body. She moaned into his touch and arched her back. "Please, sir," she gasped when she felt his cock resting just outside her cunt.

"What do you want?" he breathed, biting at her neck.

She was about to whisper an encouraging reply, but to her surprise, Charlie beat her to it.

"Fuck her," he moaned, and she turned her head to the side to give him a wide-eyed stare and a quick smile. "I've got to see this– I just– oh, God." He was squeezing his cock in his hand, clearly trying not to pump too quickly or come before he, too, had a chance to push inside her.

"You heard him," she murmured to Bill, pushing her hips up, and he groaned, moving one hand down to guide his cock inside her. He shoved forward and thrust fully into her all at once, without fingers or tongue to ease the way, and she gasped at the sharp sensation of it. She was dripping wet but unstretched, and the feel of his cock lodged deep inside her like that made her whole body throb. She longed to free her hands and rake her fingers down his back, pulling him in harder and urging him on, but she also loved the helpless feeling of being tied up, with Bill using her body for his pleasure.

For the first time that she had ever seen, Bill fell out of the role-play a bit as he fucked her, the hard lines of his Dom persona fading away as his face melted with arousal. "So beautiful," he murmured in her ear as his body thrust forward. "Letting me do this to you, fuck you like this. You are so bloody amazing..."

She moaned, pushing her hips up and writhing in her bonds. "Harder," she whispered, and he straightened his elbows, raising himself onto the palms of his hands and shoving hard inside her, over and over again. She turned her head to the side, looking at Charlie with wide, pleading eyes. "Help," she whimpered to him. "Aren't you going to do something? You're just going to let him do this to me?" She threw her head back and gasped as Bill pushed in even harder, his cock thick and hard inside her body.

Charlie's hand stilled on his cock. "I– oh, God. Shit. Are you okay? I mean–"

"Shut up!" growled Bill, throwing Charlie a murderous look over his shoulder as his fingers dug into Tonks's hips. "Don't listen to her; she loves it."

Charlie swallowed, his eyes darting between them and his face flushed. Tonks watched him out of the corner of her eye. He was adorable, really, but he still wasn't quite getting it. She made sure Bill's eyes were closed, lost in the bliss of her cunt around his prick, and then she quickly winked at Charlie and gave him an encouraging smile. His eyes widened and his mouth fell open a little bit, and then he closed his eyes and groaned. "I'm not saving you," he muttered quietly. "You asked for this, didn't you?"

His voice wasn't as sure and confident as Bill's in the Dom role, but it affected her all the same, and she pushed her head back against the pillow, closing her eyes as pleasure washed over her.

"Yeah, I saw you suck his cock," continued Charlie, growing bolder. "You loved every fucking inch of it, didn't you?" He sat up and pulled his shirt off, and Tonks licked her lips at the sight of his broad chest and thick biceps.

Bill opened his eyes and stared down at her, his lips curling in a tiny smile, as if to convey to her that he was just as surprised as she was that Charlie was getting into this.

"No," she moaned. "He made me do it."

"Stop talking," ordered Bill, his hands bruising her hips as he shoved in hard, his pace quickening and his cock beginning to thicken inside her. He was close; she could tell. He thrust in hard, panting above her, and she watched him unravel as her own body began to spiral in pleasure. His lips parted and the muscles of his arms and shoulders tightened as he slammed in hard and stilled at last, his balls pushed up against her arse and his cock jerking inside her. She held off coming herself but tightened her cunt around him, making him groan again and throw his head back. "You're filthy," he murmured to her as he opened his eyes, breathing hard. "Charlie," he called over his shoulder, "you want to feel how filthy she is?"

"God, yes," breathed Charlie, standing and shoving his trousers down. He stepped out of them and crawled on to the bed, and Tonks had to bite her lip against the orgasm that threatened to roll through her at the very sight of the two of them naked and hard, hovering over her body.

"Fuck her again," said Bill. "Fill her up and make her dirty. She fucking loves it." He wiped his hand over his mouth and gazed down at her for a second before pulling his prick out, trailing come behind it. He moved aside to make room for Charlie, who swallowed hard and took his place between her legs, his chest heaving as he looked at her.

"You want to get dirty?" he murmured to her, and she shuddered, closing her eyes briefly against the sensations racing through her body.

"No, Charlie," she whispered. "Let me up."

He glanced back at Bill, who was standing at the foot of the bed again, holding on to the bed posts and watching them carefully. "Ignore her," he said casually, and Charlie turned back towards her.

"Want to fuck you, Tonks," he breathed, guiding his cock through the wetness between her legs. "Always have, you know. You said I could. Said you wanted it..." He closed his eyes and pushed forward, and she gasped, clenching her stomach muscles as he slid through Bill's come and shoved his cock up her cunt. This was it, then: every passing fantasy she had ever entertained about the Weasley brothers, alive and pulsing right before her very eyes, pushing into her body. She couldn't keep up the game anymore, pretending to protest. She clenched her hands in the bonds and tilted her hips up, urging him on as best she could with her wrists and ankles still tied down.

"God, yes," she gasped. "Harder. Harder."

"You heard the woman, Charlie," said Bill, and Tonks opened her eyes again to lock onto his gaze, hoping he understood that this was as much for him as it was for her, hoping she wasn't making the biggest mistake of her life by making him watch this.

Charlie groaned, planting his hands on either side of her hips and fucking in deeply, his cock thick and hot inside her. He didn't take long; she knew he wouldn't. He was already too far gone from fisting himself as he watched her suck Bill's prick and watched Bill tie her up and fuck her. "Oh, Tonks," he moaned, thrusting hard. "Oh my God..." He shoved forward and came with a loud groan, tearing at the sheets and squeezing his eyes closed, and she could barely hold on, the very sight of it, the feel of it inside her was so erotic.

"Bill," she pleaded, and he instantly waved a hand at her wrists, knowing exactly what she needed as the bonds fell away. She sobbed in relief as her hand flew down to her clit and she pressed in hard, rubbing herself in a steady circle even as Charlie continued to pulse inside her. She came in seconds, her body lifting off the bed and her lips parted as she gasped in relief, shuddering and panting. Charlie stayed inside as she came, his hands stroking over her breasts and stomach as her cunt squeezed around his softening cock.

At last he pulled out and sat at the foot of the bed, looking dazed. Bill released the other bonds and came around the bed to gather her in his arms, smoothing a hand over her back and kissing her face. "All right?" he murmured, and she laughed softly, still catching her breath.

She nodded, not yet able to speak, and turned to take Charlie's hand.

"You all right?" asked Bill gruffly, following her gaze to Charlie.

He scrubbed at his face and let out a deep breath. "Fucking hell," he muttered. "You two are... fucking insane, you know."

Tonks's face fell, and she let his hand go. All this, and he still didn't get it. She frowned, turning back to Bill.

"Brilliant, don't get me wrong," added Charlie, "and, okay, I think I get why you're into him," he said to Tonks before his eyes drifted back to Bill. "You taught me how to ask a bird out, how to kiss her, how to get her bra off, how to find her clit..." he said accusingly. "But you stopped short of, how to tie her up and order her around and get her to come so hard she stops fucking breathing."

Bill laughed, leaning over to shove Charlie on the shoulder.

Charlie smiled, running his hand down Tonks's arm. "How can you shag like that all the fucking time? No wonder you're exhausted."

She felt her face heat, and both men grinned at her, their faces still lit with desire.

The room was still for a moment until Bill said quietly, "It's just a game, Charlie. I'm not out to hurt her."

Charlie moistened his lips, fiddling with the hem of the sheet where it had come loose from the bed before nodding. "Yeah. I know."

"Do you?" prompted Tonks, suddenly feeling a bit shy as she pulled the sheet over her body. "I want this, you know. And he wants it." She glanced at Bill, her face heating. "And we just... we want you to be able to handle that."

Charlie was quiet for a moment. "The offer still stands, you know," he said. "Be with me, and I would worship the ground you walk on." He gave her a weak smile. "Wouldn't need the bells and whistles and... ropes and chains." He gestured at the bed posts.

"I know. But I like the ropes and chains. And him," she said, nodding at Bill. "I like him."

Charlie smiled sadly, nodding. "Yeah. I know."

"Was this a bad idea?" she added nervously. "I didn't mean to lead you on. I just–"

He shook his head, pushing off the bed and grabbing his clothing from the floor. "Nope," he said quickly, pulling his shirt over his head and stepping into his trousers. "I have wank fodder for the rest of my life now, thank you, although it might take some careful uses of Obliviate to get the sight of his hairy arse out of my brain." He jerked his thumb at Bill and grinned.

Bill rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well, when you figure out which uses those are, send them my way, too," he said dryly.

"You can have her," said Charlie with a sigh as he finished dressing and stood over the bed, watching the two of them. "But my original threat still holds: if I ever see her crying over you, I will come over here and you will not know what fucking hit you." He pointed a finger at Bill, who just rolled his eyes again.

"So noted."

"And as for you." He turned to Tonks. "You are fucking gorgeous, and I'm leaving before I fall in love with you."

She closed her eyes. "Charlie..."

"Nope, don't say it. I'm leaving. And we're never talking about this again. And you are going to meet me on Tuesdays at the Ringed Pear like usual, and I'm going to beat your arse at darts and make you buy the first round, and we're going to gossip about the Ministry and draw stick figures of Shacklebolt bending over for Fudge, and you're going to laugh at my Ridgeback stories, and we are never going to talk about this again." He gave her a pointed look, and she smiled.

"Tuesday," she agreed. "I have a story about the carrot sticks in Shacklebolt's lunch, actually, from last week. Never seen them shaped like that, I tell you." She grinned. "I'll save it for you."

He leaned over the bed and kissed her on the forehead, his lips lingering a second too long, before he straightened and headed for the door. "Dinner at mum's on Friday," he called to Bill. "And if you're not there at seven, I'm telling everyone at the table it's because you're tied up, and when they ask what the hell that means, I'm going to fucking tell them, so you'd better fucking be there."

"Seven," said Bill wearily. "Got it. Hey, Charlie?"

He turned at the door.

"Thanks," said Bill, giving him a pointed look, and Charlie nodded, his face flushing.

"Yeah, yeah." Charlie waved a hand behind him as he clicked the door shut, and Tonks sighed, turning to Bill.

"That was a bad idea, wasn't it?"

"Probably," he agreed, bending to kiss her. "Did you have a good time?"

"God, yes," she breathed, closing her eyes and letting her mind wander back to the delicious throbbing and wetness in her cunt.

"I really don't think we can do that again," said Bill, his face drawn with concern.

"I know. It's not fair to him."

"Not because of that," said Bill, tracing her cheek with his finger. "Because it's not fair to me. That was hot as fuck, but I think I want you to myself."

She smiled, tilting her head up to kiss him. His lips brushed against hers with a renewed electricity, and she moaned softly. "Whatever you want, sir," she purred in his ear as she drew back from his mouth. "I'm at your service."

-fin-