He didn’t believe her. His smirk said it as much as the lingering question; and she didn’t have an answer to counter it, not when it took all she had to bite her tongue as he touched her. She didn’t want to lose herself too quickly, or to lose anything she had left to lose – so she looked at him disdainfully as he aided in undoing his buttons. If she had her weaknesses, at least he was evidently not impervious to her – once she had undone his trousers and his drawers, she took him in hand, and it only took a few strokes to have him as ready as she was. She shifted on top of him to guide them together herself, pressing past that brief first sting of discomfort until he was inside her, and the discomfort turned pleasurable.

“Yes,” she murmured, half in answer, half to steel herself to it. And if this was the last time, she was keen to stay in control of it, to be deliberate about it and draw out her pleasure as long as she liked – so she set a rough pace against him, and suddenly turned excruciatingly slow. She could feel the coin purse weighing down her skirts, could almost hear the muffled clinking as she moved. Estelle breathed out and did her best to block it out, trying to find the enjoyment she wanted instead. “Yes. Because you know I despise you,” she breathed, sure that words were wasted on him but wishing he could hurt, wishing he were even remotely capable of that. “Of course I won’t miss you. I think you’re pathetic, really – you’re repugnant – and you aren’t good for anything else but this.” (Something, whether the activity or the invective, was making her feel better.)

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Once Estelle sank onto him, he didn’t try to stop her pace, didn’t try to take her wrists nor keep her still. Instead Leo let her grind and drag and take whatever she wanted, even if it was aggravating to be chasing something that he wanted. His hands bracketed her hips, resting there as if to keep her where she was, although they both knew that she wasn’t going to go anywhere. It was nice, peaceful, until she opened her mouth to confirm it was the last time they’d be together.

Not that Leo would believe that; Estelle Malfoy was his, and always would be in some way. She’d come crawling back to him, even if it was just for a quick hate sex session.

“Pathetic?” He laughed, his head tipping back against the couch. “You say it like you aren’t clenching down on me like you’ll die without it.” He exhaled through his nose, a sound too close to a groan for his liking. His thumbs pressed hard into her hipbones, the only betrayal of the strain he kept otherwise hidden. “You can say whatever you want Estelle, but you’ll still come apart right here.” Leo pushed up into her then, not enough to take the rhythm from her, just enough to remind her how much he could if he really wanted to. His hands flexed against her hips, fingers sliding lower, dragging her closer onto him.

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MJ made this masterpiece<3

She was convinced she would have bruises on her skin tomorrow from how hard he was holding onto her, which really said it all about who was desperate here. Estelle’s hand had slid under his shirt, pressing the heel of her hand against his collarbone, fingers curled around his neck. She wished that she was less dressed; she was already flushed all over with warmth, a bead of sweat at her brow as the feeling climbed.

“Oh?” Estelle countered in her next breath – and goading him back was half of her pleasure, even here. “If you can hold on long enough not to come apart first, that is.” Though he had disappointed her in every other regard tonight, she was determined he would not disappoint her in this – but as he pulled her down onto him, Estelle gasped aloud and purposefully picked up her pace in answer, moving more vigorously on him to try and make him actually groan, to suffer a little in the waiting. He was familiar enough to her now to read, even without words exchanged. It was a shame everything had come crashing down now – Estelle felt as though she had just been getting good at this.

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Her words were meaningless and he chose to ignore them. Leo held on as long as he possibly could, but Estelle knew him well enough that every roll of her hips made him stifle a groan. When she leaned in just enough for her breath to hit his throat, blonde hair tickling his skin, he lost it. The sound that came from him was low and broken, and he pressed up into her as he released. His hands fell away only after it was over, still twitching faintly against her skin.

“You’ve had your fun Estelle,” Leo whispered, although he of course, had no complaints in the manner in which it happened, “now get out. Write to me once you’ve exposed of it.” He shifted beneath her, coaxed her off of him so he could see her back to the fireplace to send her home. It wouldn’t be the last time they saw each other.

Estelle Malfoy was his, whether she liked it or not.

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MJ made this masterpiece<3