Turning his head, he ran his lips over her cherry skin. "I am rubbing, Ginevra. The card doesn't say what body parts I'm confined to using for this task, though." He ran his bottom lip over the curve of her spine. "You should have been more specific when you wrote it down, my fiery kitten. You left it open to interpretation, so I'm interpreting it to mean rubbing you with my lips and tongue right now."
"Oh, hell no!" she shrieked, indignant. "Let me up this instant! Isn't your turn over yet?"
Blaise chuckled. "Not yet. I still have fourteen minutes. So, for the next thirteen and so many seconds, I intend upon properly rubbing you. Just lie there and enjoy."
"I don't want to enjoy anything you do to me, you twisted narcissist!" she yelled.
Licking along her spinal column, Blaise used his fingers to once more stroke along the bottom curves of her arse, creeping closer to the centre divide. He teased, retreated, and returned over and over again, inching closer to his ultimate goal. "Ah, but I want you to, my lioness. And since this is my reward…"
"I am so going to make you pay for this!"
He let his lips and tongue trail down to the split of her backside. "What you fail to understand, Ginevra, is that I'll let you do anything to me, so long as I get to fuck you tonight—preferably several times and in different positions. Nothing else matters for the next twenty-four hours." With that, he traced every inch of her bum, placed wet, sucking kisses all along the tender skin, dipping down as far as he could go to lick, tasting a bit of her salty quim in the deal. He even separated her back cheeks at one point and tickled her rear opening with his tongue, just over the outside. He started with light flicks around the small, puckered hole, making her squirm, and then boldly laved her centre, coating her with his saliva.
In his arms, his lioness quavered, and her breathing grew ragged as he pushed her comfort levels, retreating only when he felt her ready to call it her limit.
When he'd covered every bit of her, and rubbed away the pain, he noticed that Weasley remained strangely silent and had gone deathly still, her trembling ceased all together. In fact… He leaned his head back down between her legs and inhaled.
My, my, but she was very aroused. Gently moving one leg outward, he opened her up a bit and looked. There, glistening at her pretty, small entrance lay the proof of her excitement. Blaise hummed with appreciation, even as his cock came wide awake in his pants. "You're wet and ready for me, my beautiful lioness." Against his thumb, he could feel her pulse through her femoral artery pounding like mad. "Would you like me to keep exploring?"
"N-no, let me up!" she stammered, scrabbling to lift her chest off his legs.
"Are you sure?" he asked in his most seductive voice. "No one has to know what we do here. I'm good at keeping secrets." He lazily stroked the inside of her thigh, inching towards the beautiful, bare cunt that beckoned him closer. "And I promise to make you feel good. No more pain, only intense pleasure." She shook her head and pushed against his knees again, trying to raise herself up. "I'm not required to endure anything more than what you've already done to me."
Endure?
She'd actually gotten off on what he'd done to her!
"Let me up, Zabini," she demanded again. "You've had your fun humiliating me."
She got her feet under her and started to rise, but he put a hand on her spine to stop her. "Not just yet." Before she could protest, he bent again and kissed her on both cheeks. Then, he sat back and let her go.
Ginevra turned stony eyes on him, her face as flushed as her bottom had been earlier. Without another word, she turned and walked back to the bed to grab her knickers and slipped them back on. She put her arms through her jacket, but left it undone for now, then gingerly sat on the bed, picked up her card, and read it aloud.
DEED: You get to ask your partner any five questions you want about them and they must answer wholly and truthfully.
Sitting back in the chair, Blaise crossed his legs and stared down his partner. "Ask away. I have nothing to hide, Ginevra."
Nothing you're likely to guess, anyway.
Cool, whisky-brown eyes glittered with icy hatred for him. "Question one: what's your True Wizarding Name?"
Blaise felt the colour drain from his cheeks.
He'd been wrong – there was something he had to hide from her, and this would be it. This was one of his two big secrets that could be used to utterly destroy him.
A wizard's or witch's True Name was something only they and their parents knew. No one else was privy to this most sacred of secrets, not even the Ministry. Usually, not even spouses had disclosure, in case of divorce. A TWN was first bound to a magical, non-Squib child (well, half-bloods and pure-bloods; he wasn't sure what Muggle-borns did, as they didn't have magical parents to bind them to the name) at the age of five, and then reaffirmed and rebound to the child when they began their magical training at the age of eleven, before they went off to school for the first time. It was the most closely guarded secret of a witch or wizard's lives, as it was the gateway to their magical ability. It's how He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named managed to control his Death Eaters in the Dark War, twenty-eight years prior; the madman's loyal followers had given their Master their True Wizarding Names when they swore fealty to his cause. As a result, he'd been able to slide through their minds at any time he'd wanted, day or night, and he'd had the power to summon them to his side using the magic of the Dark Mark he'd branded on them.
If he gave Ginny his TWN, she could abuse him with it for the rest of his life, forcing him to do things against his will, much like the Imperius Curse. If he didn't give her the name, he had to forfeit the game right here and now.
How badly did he want her again?
Was it worth this price?
Leaning his head back against the chair's cushion, he stared up at the ceiling and ran his hands over his face. For a Gryffindor, she'd just neatly maneuvered him into a very Slytherin ruse…which was totally hot and one more reason why he had to have her.
Fuck, fuck, FUCK! He was so screwed! Reveling in his mental torment, Ginevra smiled at him with a flat, serpentine gaze. "Tick, tock," she mimicked his earlier sentiment.
Gritting his teeth, he growled out his own demand, wanting at least some power in this negotiation. "I want an Oath from you not to tell anyone else my TWN, and not to use it against me."
Weasley firmly shook her head. "I'll compromise and agree to the first, but the second, no. It's my guarantee that you can't ever hurt me again." She innocently held her hands out to the side as if to say, 'What are you going to do?' and shrugged, all the while grinning like a man-eating shark. "Take it or leave it, Zabini. Tell me the name or quit the game. Your choice."
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