average human’s Reviews > Dirty, Flirty, and Vindictive > Status Update

She planned to start renovations in earnest after the wedding, she’d told him, and she’d begun making her way through a thick book on plant-based nutrition. She’d brought it to bed and read sentences out loud to him, asking what he thought, and he’d felt the warmth seep through him. He was a sucker for that—he couldn’t help it. He’d been propped on his elbow, kissing her shoulder—wondering if she wanted him to stop—when she’d looked over at him and he’d looked up at her, eyebrows raised, and she’d inhaled and said, “Stay right there.”

Now she was braced against the headboard and he didn’t have to worry about his weight on her. He could concentrate on tonguing the hard bud of her nipple. He was palming the dense flesh at her hips, squeezing. He licked and sucked as her nipple got harder and harder.

He was thinking, despite himself, about the master suites.

Neville had been right to go through the rooms when he had.

Rhodes had been in Azkaban for years. The elves had cleaned his rooms diligently all this time. Neville had had to make an effort that night. He’d been through Rhodes’s closets and wardrobes. He’d gone through Rhodes’s bedding. He’d finally found what he was looking for in Violet’s rooms, loose in the bottom of an old jewelry box. It was a square glass locket on a goblin-wrought silver chain. It was etched with an R and held a lock of hair. It was dangerous, to give a witch your hair. It put you at her mercy. This was an extraordinarily romantic gesture, probably made when Rhodes was courting Violet. Neville had stood at her bureau and turned the locket over between his scarred fingers, wondering whether Rhodes had had real feelings for Violet—or had thought he had. Only for the locket to lay forgotten with the trinkets Violet had left behind. Neville had pocketed it and gone through Violet’s dressing room until he’d found a hair on a fur coat.

Now Pansy had emptied those rooms.

Pansy pulled back and he sucked harder. He didn’t want to let her go. Finally, the nipple popped free. It was tight and pink and wet, glistening with his saliva. He’d done that. He drew a breath.

Pansy palmed the nape of his neck, shifted, guided her other breast into his mouth. Neville latched onto the nipple and sucked.

“You went to see Mother,” said Pansy.

Neville released her nipple. He mouthed it, his tongue moving over it. He tilted his head and kissed the swell of her breast. “Tell me if she sends you another letter. I don’t like her upsetting you.”

Pansy’s fingers played through his hair. “You told her not to write me?”

“I told her to leave you alone.”

Pansy hummed but didn’t object. Neville wasn’t going to say more until he was asked a direct question.

“And I have a demand,” he said. He kissed her breast, his nose nuzzled into her. Waiting to see how she’d take this.

“A demand,” murmured Pansy.

“Yes,” said Neville. “Don’t live apart from me. The master suites—I want a shared bedroom.”

“Hmm,” said Pansy. “What does your friend say about men who are bossy?”

Neville laughed. He was smiling against her. He opened his mouth and dragged his teeth along her breast. He bit. “That we like what we like—”

“Oh,” said Pansy, patronizing. “In that case . . .”

Neville’s blood was up. His cock was straining against his pants. But, after that morning, he wanted her to set the pace. He pushed down from the headboard, between her thighs. “Make me happy,” he said, “and sit on my face.”

“Well,” said Pansy. She gazed down at him. Brushed the hair back from his forehead. “That is my job.”

“And it’s mine to take care of you,” said Neville, looking up at her. Godric, he wished he could.