Tease her tight little asshole

His thick, coarse finger circled the puckered entrance, a deliberate, taunting exploration. Rose shuddered, a gasp escaping her lips. She clenched involuntarily, a useless gesture against the inevitable. He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound of pure male satisfaction.

"Still tight here," he murmured, pressing the tip of his finger just inside. "This will be mine, too. Every inch of you." He twisted his finger slightly, and she cried out, a sharp, broken sound of pain and a confusing surge of pleasure.

He worked her slowly, methodically, stretching her with one finger, then two, preparing her for a possession she hadn't agreed to but was beginning to crave in some dark, broken part of her soul. He loved this power. This complete control over the body of the boy who lived, now a woman, now his woman. He pulled his fingers away, leaving her feeling empty and exposed.

"On the bed," he commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument.

Rose scrambled to comply, her limbs trembling. She positioned herself on her hands and knees, the swollen weight of her belly hanging beneath her. She felt utterly exposed, completely vulnerable, and the shame burned hotter than any cruciatus curse. She could hear him shedding his own clothes, the rustle of fabric, the heavy thud of boots hitting the floor.

Then she felt him behind her, the heat of his body, the hard length of his cock pressing against her thigh.

"Ready for your mate, little Potter?" he snarled, using her old name like a lash.

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