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When had merely watching her sleep become not enough? Sebastian pondered the question as he lay in bed, willing her to crawl in with him through some hitherto unheard of telepathy; a cruel thought, as she only ever did so when suffering from particularly horrendous nightmares. He missed her warmth, particularly on these cold Winter nights, though he was restless when she did make an appearance.
He closed his eyes, picturing her laying next to him—eyes shut, her dark eyelashes fluttering as she dreamed, cheeks flushed from the heat under the heavy duvet and those kissable lips just barely parted to aid soft breaths. His memory conjured images of the slow rise and fall of her chest beneath those gorgeous breasts that regularly featured in his own dreams. Sebastian gripped his aching length, his clothes long banished as he lay in the confines of his bed. He lingered on the thought of pushing himself into her mouth, parting those lips further as he slid down her throat. In his fantasies, she didn't react; merely lay still, statuesque, perfect as he violated her.
"F-fuck…," he stuttered as he came hard, spilling over his hand and stomach.
The shame that so usually flooded his mind had gradually dulled over the weeks, making way for a resignation that this was no passing phase. What bothered Sebastian now wasn't the activities he conducted in private—that was his own business, after all—it was the desire to act out his fantasies, growing ever stronger each time she made his way to him during those hard nights. That spurred his guilt, more so because she was particularly vulnerable in those moments, being subjected to horrors she begged him to be able to forget.
He cleaned himself up with a sigh before heading to the shower for a more thorough cleanse, though it did nothing to wash away the unease settling in his stomach. Once dressed, he walked down to the common room with Ominis, spotting her leaning casually by the window and prompting his insides to squirm. She greeted them cheerily as they approached, running her fingers through her hair to sweep it out of her face, like some sort of temptress meant only to torture Sebastian. It was no secret that he found her attractive, except maybe to the woman herself, but not a living soul knew the depths of his depravity when it came to his lustful thoughts.
As she sat across the table from him at breakfast, he felt as if she could read his mind the way her eyes seemed to scrutinise everything he did, and he silently prayed to Merlin that she wasn't a secret legilimens.
"You okay, Seb?" she asked.
Sebastian smiled and nodded, heaping porridge into his bowl and shovelling it into his mouth to avoid speaking. He was far too distracted for small talk, and besides that, he could barely look at her these days without imagining his cock in her mouth.
"How did you sleep?" Ominis asked.
"Better," she smiled with a sigh of relief. "Maybe my nightmares have stopped."
Well, that wouldn't do.
Sebastian peered over his bowl and caught her watching him, her piercing eyes seeming to want to communicate something. Would she be disappointed, too? Would she lament the fact that she no longer had an excuse to sleep next to him?
"That’s good," Sebastian remarked whilst idly stirring more honey into his breakfast.
She hummed in assent, never taking her eyes off him.
-
Not three days later, her presumption was proven false—her nightmares were far from finished tormenting her. She slid into his bed once again, shaking slightly, whether from the cold, shock or fear he couldn't tell. He bundled her into his arms as soon as she hit the mattress, curling into a fetal position as he enveloped her back in a blanket of warmth and calm.
"Are you okay?" he asked gently.
"Yes, I'll be alright. It wasn't as bad as…"
She couldn't finish her sentence, instead lapsing into silence as Sebastian stroked her hair and the last of her sobs subsided. He knew the nightmares she had alluded to; he had them too, sometimes.
She drifted off to sleep quickly, leaving Sebastian once again in an internal struggle between giving into the temptation that roared behind his ribcage, a beast waiting to be sated, and the simple duty of respecting his dearest friend. He told himself that he was disgusting, depraved, a monster, but the words meant nothing as he gazed down at her sleeping form in the dim light, noticing the gentle swell of her breasts underneath her cotton chemise. Her nipple had slipped, tantalisingly close to being exposed by the smallest of shuffles. Once again, Sebastian rationalised his actions, downplaying their gravity—he simply wanted to hasten the inevitable.
Propped on his elbow as he leaned over her, he delicately peeled the fabric down, revealing her soft, pink nipple. Saliva pooled in the well of his mouth as his cock twitched against her perky cheeks, and Sebastian suppressed a groan that would surely wake her. Just a quick touch, then he'd stop. His thumb brushed her nipple, her body responding even in unconsciousness as it formed a stiff peak at his touch. Fuck, he wanted to take it into his mouth, swirl his tongue over that perfect little mound. The thought sent blood rushing away from his head—and whatever part of his brain that was responsible for his self restraint—and straight to his cock.
Sebastian slid a hand under the chemise to gently cup her breast, her flesh perfectly filling his palm. His dark eyes flickered shut as he felt the weight, brushed the silken skin and gently pinched her nipple. Perfect. He was impossibly aroused now, his cock swelling at an alarming rate in his pyjama trousers. The only relief lay in her warm body nestled against him, and the temptation was simply too strong. His eyes opened again to watch her face, for any indication that she was waking as he rolled his hips into her backside.
She was so fucking soft. Her perfect arse moulding around his erection like it was meant for him. Still she slept as he palmed her breast, growing bolder every second with a firmer grip and a harder push of his hips. He wanted to moan into her ear, tell her she was such a good girl, but of course he couldn't; his game was one of stealth and silence. He couldn't stop his heavy breath or involuntary hitches as he grinded gently against her, but it soon became apparent that this gentle caress wouldn't be enough to rid him of his painfully throbbing desire.
Sebastian shuffled back slightly, taking the arm trapped under his body and wrapping his hand around his length with a shudder, whilst his other stayed firmly glued to her breast. He massaged her in rhythm to the strokes he gave his cock, his orgasm building so quickly from just how fucking wrong this was. Still he pumped himself, smearing the slick that dribbled from the tip down his entire length, filling the canopy with wet slapping sounds that were far too loud—but he couldn't stop, he was so close. He looked down at her face once more, eyes fixed on those plump lips so ready for the taking, and she moaned. A gentle sound, almost a breath, as she shuffled on the mattress slightly, bringing her knee higher and face pressed into the pillow.
No, Sebastian couldn't stop the inevitable, not even if he'd tried, which he didn't. He shot his load all over her clothed back, fucking his hand furiously as cum spurted in thick ropes across her pretty cotton chemise. His head was spinning, barely able to breathe from the intensity of his release. It was fucking incredible. It could have been seconds, minutes, or hours as he gasped quietly through the pleasure, but eventually he was empty, oversensitive and completely spent. He slumped back on the pillow, looking down at the mess he'd made of his hand and the sheet beneath them, his post-orgasm clarity ruining the perfect moment.
Shit. He removed his hand gently from her breast, pulling the top up to cover her still stiff nipple and groped around outside of the curtain for his wand, trying not to move too much. After an agonising few seconds of patting his nightstand, he finally found it, casting a non-verbal cleaning charm to vanish the soaking mess. It wasn't quite perfect, but he daren't utter the incantation aloud. This was his bed, as such, the slightly crusted layer on his sheet wasn't too much of a problem, but the same couldn't be said of her pyjamas. As she started to stir and the light began filtering through the gap she'd made in the curtain, Sebastian hoped against all odds that she wouldn't notice his shame smeared across her back.
-
Sebastian watched her over breakfast for any indication that she knew what he'd done, but she was apparently none the wiser, her usual self. He thought she may have lingered a little longer on his eyes as she looked at him that morning, her face a tad more flushed than usual, but she said nothing. If she had known, she had decided to allow it, which made Sebastian all the more bolder.
Night after night, she told him her nightmares had returned, though he noted the absence of any tears after a while. Perhaps it was just wishful thinking, or a desperate need to justify his actions by telling himself that she wanted this, but he had almost convinced himself that it was true. He'd held back from doing what he really wanted, from truly claiming her whilst she slept, but his apprehension was melting away with every night she willingly found herself in his bed.
"Are you okay?" he asked once again as she lay curled up in his arms.
"Yeah. I'm better now."
Better with me.
She offered herself so willingly, such that the flickering flame of guilt was extinguished the moment her soft snores met his ears. Too beautiful to resist, and so responsive to his touch. His breath ghosted her skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps prickling her flesh. Over her shoulder his gaze roamed and his fingers followed, the featherlight touch he employed barely registering to her nerves.
Sebastian’s ear was pricked for any variation in her breathing as he delved under her top, this time a less attractive buttoned shirt; but no matter, it was what lay underneath that counted. His hands provided and her body responded just as he’d hoped. This, he was used to now. This, was safe. He could caress her breasts and barely satisfy himself with his hand, but the allure of what lay next to his throbbing length was what kept him awake even on the nights he spent alone.
He dared to go further even as the bile rose in his throat, planting a kiss on her neck whilst his eyes stayed fixed on her peacefully resting visage. Illuminated by the strip of moonlight cascading through the gently rippling waters, she looked almost ethereal. There could be no snarky comments or irritating little habits; in stillness and silence she was captivating, absolutely perfect.
Another kiss, and another, until his brain was no longer capable of rational thought amongst the onslaught of hormones, and he licked the skin at the crook of her neck. Not a tentative dab with the tip of his tongue but a thick, wet stripe. She tasted of the tang of her perfume and partially of the sweat brought on by her night terrors; so enticingly forbidden. There was no stopping now—he was bordering on crazed, his mind addled with lust and a reckless disregard for any consequences.
His hand slid down her clothed back as he ignored his straining erection; there would be time for that soon. With gentle tugs, he worked on shimmying her pyjama trousers down, the soft skin of her cheeks that brushed his knuckles sending his head spinning. Faster he moved until she was exposed to him, and he took a moment to drink in the soft curves before cupping her behind with both hands.
What he wouldn’t give to dig his fingertips into her flesh, to leave bruises and indents along her hips. His fingers flexed involuntarily at the thought, barely pulling himself back before he acted on the impulse. He needed to be gentle, just like the steady breaths she continued to exhale. His hand glided down, slipping between her thighs where he was greeted by her slick entrance.
Sebastian could have spilled just then, messing his pyjamas from simply feeling her arousal. He took a deep breath as his middle finger gently stroked his prize before slowly pressing inside her. She had no reaction, none whatsoever—both reassuring and deeply disappointing. He was up to his knuckle, teasing her open with strokes of his finger. In the near-silence every squelch was audible, and deliciously obscene.
"So fucking wet for me," he whispered, barely audibly.
She shuddered, and Sebastian flinched and stilled his hand as his heart almost leapt out of his chest. That had been a sudden reaction to his words, not his slow and steady movements. He waited, but her eyes stayed shut and breath remained steady as she appeared to sleep on. Resuming his rhythm, he had the sneaking suspicion that she was at least partially lucid. She was letting this happen.
He slipped another finger inside her, growing steadily more reckless as he felt himself lose control over his desire. The minutes spent preparing her felt like an eternity, but once he was finally satisfied she could handle him, Sebastian was barely holding it together. As his hand wrapped around his cock to guide his way, a tiny moan fell from his lips before he could stop himself. Still she didn't stir, an invitation to continue.
He pressed his head against her dripping entrance and pushed, stopping as just the tip was enveloped in her warmth. So fucking perfect. All Sebastian could think of was filling her up completely, letting her drip his seed onto the sheets as she slept on, completely oblivious. The thought was almost enough to end him, and he willed himself to move, screwing his eyes shut in some pathetic attempt to delay his release.
He was doomed as soon as she began to stir at the first thrust. He moved slowly, gently, but he hit her deep, and those soft, rhythmic breaths became quicker and uneven. And then she moaned. Not a breathy sigh but an exclamation of pleasure that his roommates would no doubt have heard. He wished then that he could delve into her thoughts, to see what her unconscious mind had conjured in response to his intrusion. He was sure that he would see himself, pleasuring her as he did now.
"I'm so fucking close, please let me come," Sebastian whispered in her ear.
He didn't expect a response, at least not a lucid one—even if she'd given him one, he was too far gone to have processed it. The flutter of her walls around his cock was almost too much, and a confirmation that she was enjoying this just as much as he was. Every heavy breath against her neck and every shunt across the mattress brought her further out of her deep sleep. At that point, Sebastian cared very little about what might happen if she did wake, clinging to the belief that she would welcome his advances with open arms.
"Oh…wha-…?"
A confused and hoarse whisper escaped her throat, her eyes still glued shut.
Fuck.
"Do you want me to stop?"
Please say no.
"Don't …don't stop…"
Sebastian willed himself to last just a little longer, not merely seeking his own gratification but determined to have her fall apart by his touch.
"Come on, beautiful…," he encouraged with the smallest whispers.
She was so tight, her muscles gripping his cock as her abdomen clenched under his palm before she reached her climax. She writhed against him with heavy breaths and involuntary moans, the pulsing around his length enough to tip him over the edge with her. Sebastian groaned as he stilled, allowing the grip of her slick cunt to tease every drop of cum from him. The light was too dim to see clearly, but his finger found where they joined and his vision faded to black at the utter euphoria of the feel of his seed dripping from her.
Once the ringing in his ears subsided and he propped himself up on his elbow, he'd half expected her to greet him with a dozy smile, but her eyes were screwed tightly shut. Her body still twitched against him, but her breath was slowing once again, her limbs limp against the mattress. She was still asleep, and whatever words she'd uttered had been a product of her unconcious mind.
Shame washed over him once more, tempered by the knowledge that she'd been dreaming of him. He'd told himself this was the last time, now he'd been satisfied, though she looked even more angelic now that he'd had his way with her—she had a slight sheen of sweat across her deeply blushing skin that glistened tantalisingly in the light from the celestial bodies. Reining in the desire to taste her again, he let her rest, performing his cleanup ritual in silence. His spells were much more effective now, though he hesitated when he pointed his wand at the pool of cum dripping from her violated cunt. He rubbed his fingers into the damp fabric, carving the memory into his brain before it vanished.
Sebastian slept soundly that night, holding her tightly as he waited eagerly for morning.
-
She looked positively elated, if slightly abashed, and Sebastian knew why. She must remember the dream, the mind-blowing orgasm he'd given her—he could practically feel the heat coming off of her.
"What's got you smiling this morning?" Sebastian asked over the breakfast table.
"I had a strange dream, that's all," she said, barely suppressing a smirk as a blush crossed her cheeks.
"Oh? What about?"
She lowered her voice to barely a whisper, casting furtive glances around the table for anyone listening in.
"It was quite scandalous..."
Sebastian looked up at her from his dipped head with a knowing smirk, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.
"Yeah? And who, pray tell, did this dream involve?"
"Garreth Weasley," she giggled.
The colour drained from Sebastian's face and a burning rage coursed through his veins. His mouth formed a hard line as he looked back down at the table and hoped she hadn't noticed his reaction. Oh, last night wouldn't be the last time, not by a fucking long shot—Sebastian's pride wouldn't allow it. He would have her dreams reflecting reality, until she moaned his name in her slumber.