Thirty Three

Always 

  Tom's grip tightened around her neck, desire and affection in his gaze, his fingers digging into her skin, a possessive glint in his eyes. "I can't let you go, Rosie," he said, his voice low and commanding. "Not again. You're mine."

  Rosalie felt torn, her heart racing as conflicting emotions surged within her. She couldn't deny the pull Tom still had over her, despite her efforts to move on with Daniel. "Tom, please," she pleaded, trying to pull away from his grasp. "Let me go. I can't do this anymore."

  But Tom's hold only grew stronger, his gaze unwavering as he looked into her eyes. "You're mine, Rosie," he repeated, his voice laced with determination. "You belong with me."

  Tears welled up in Rosalie's eyes as she struggled to comprehend the tangled web of emotions enveloping her. She loved Daniel, she truly did, but a part of her couldn't shake the lingering feelings she held for Tom.

  "Tom, I... I don't know," she stammered, her voice trembling with uncertainty. "I'm with Daniel now. I... I can't just leave him. He's good for me."

  But Tom's expression remained cold and unyielding. "I'm good for you."

  "But you're not! Look at me! Look at us! I know I'm precious to you but I'm just another one of your horcruxes- something you want to possess, not love! You want to keep me, Tommy, but you don't want to have me."

  "My soul is in yours, I feel as you do, I have never felt what I feel for you with anything else. If this is love then I want it because it brings me you."

  Rosalie couldn't hold it, she wanted to believe him, wanted to forget about her worries, but she knew the toxicity Tom brought wherever he went; she had learned to live with that, but what would stop him from doing something that hurt her again?

  "You're mine," he repeated, his grip tightening even further. "And you'll stay with me, whether you like it or not."

  Rosalie's heart sank as she realised the depth of her feelings for Tom, the conflicted emotions tearing her apart from within. She knew she should find a way to untangle herself from his grasp, but she didn't want to. She liked the danger, she longed for Tom's darkness.

  In the chilly night air, Rosalie's hands found their way to Tom's face, pulling his lips down onto hers with a fire Tom hadn't witnessed in a long time. Their breaths mingled, heating the cold atmosphere with their passion. 

  Tom surrendered completely to her touch, his grip on her neck loosening as he grasped her face, deepening the kiss with a hunger born of desire and possession. He leant into her, her head craning back to reach up to him.

  Their bodies pressed together, aching for more, as they lost themselves in the intensity of the moment. Tom's touches grew more urgent, fuelled by possessive flames raging within him. With each caress, he sought to claim her completely, their souls entwining with every shared heartbeat. The taste of her tongue lingered in Tom's mouth and he savoured every drop, her mind going blank with one simple release of moral right and wrongs.

  Rosalie's fingers traced the contours of Tom's chest, momentarily breaking the kiss to catch her breath before succumbing to the undeniable pull between them once again. As Tom's hands crept under her dress, a shiver of anticipation coursed through her, moving her to cling to him with a desperate longing. She kissed him harder, as if trying to etch every moment into her memory, knowing deep down that if she was going to give in to temptation, she would make it count.

  Tom seized her waist, swiftly turning her against the wall and pressing into her back. She could feel the hardness of his body against hers, sending a shiver down her spine as his warm breath tickled her ear. A rush of anticipation flooded her senses, igniting a flame of desire within her.

  "I would fuck you right here... but you have more dignity than that, right?" Tom's voice was low, laced with teasing allure, each word tantalising her senses. He knew the power of their shared desire, the magnetic pull drawing them together.

  Rosalie's chest rose and fell with each breath, her heart racing with the intensity of their forbidden attraction. She hesitated, torn between the longing in her heart and the restraint in her mind.

  When it seemed like she wouldn't reply, he spoke again. His voice dripped with temptation. "Or perhaps you want me to do it? It would be so easy... I know you'd let me do anything to you right now, wouldn't you, Rosie?"

  "Tell me, after two years, how many times did you imagine us together again?"

  Summoning all her resolve, Rosalie turned to face Tom, her eyes shimmering in the moonlight, betraying the depths of her desire. In that moment, her gaze spoke volumes, every inappropriate thought, every time she wished it was Tom she was in bed with rather than Daniel, every kiss, every moment they shared together. She wanted it.

  Tom grabbed her tighter and with only one thought, he apparated them off of the street. The sudden change in scenery left Rosalie disoriented, but Tom steadied her, pulling her close with possessive urgency, so much so that it confused her.

  As he gazed down at her with a mix of hunger and adoration, Rosalie's heart raced with conflicting emotions. She despised the hold he had over her, yet found herself drawn to his dark allure.

  "Where are we?" she whispered, her voice betraying her uncertainty.

  "In a hotel, not far from your home. I've been waiting for this moment, to have you all to myself," Tom confessed, his tone softening with a hint of vulnerability.

  She gripped at his shirt, finding something disgustingly charming in his objective. She hated it; she hated him. She swallowed every dirty thought she had and bit on her lip.

  Rosalie's grip tightened on his shirt, torn between revulsion and a twisted sense of attraction. She bit her lip, suppressing the flood of desire threatening to consume her.

  Without warning, Tom guided her towards the bed, his gaze piercing with hunger as he pushed her onto the soft mattress. Rosalie's pulse quickened, her mind reeling with anticipation.

  "I've longed for this, Rosie. To have you like this again," Tom murmured, his eyes locking with hers in a fervent gaze.

  Suddenly, he surprised her by sinking to his knees before her, his hands deftly removing her heels. He looked up at her with devotion, his touch gentle yet possessive as he caressed her legs, his hands slowly pushing themselves further up along them until he couldn't reach anymore.

  "I worship you, my love. You are my salvation. My everything. And you are mine, you promised that to me. I will give you the world if you let me." Tom declared, his voice filled with raw emotion as he bowed before her, his forehead resting against her knees.

  Rosalie gazed down at him, her heart racing with conflicting emotions. In his eyes, she saw not just desire, but a profound reverence that stirred something deep within her. Despite her thoughts, she couldn't deny the power of his affection, something she was beginning to think she overlooked.

  Because he really worshiped her. Lord Voldemort was bowing at her feet.

  "Get up here," Rosalie murmured, her voice soft yet commanding, her gaze intense with desire as she watched Tom with a vulnerability she hadn't seen in him before.

  Tom's eyes locked with hers, absorbing her words. His grip on her thigh tightened instinctively, the heat between them extreme as they lingered in each others space. Slowly, he rose to stand above her once more, his gaze never leaving hers as he bent down to meet her eyes.

  As their lips met again in a fervent kiss, Tom felt a rush of heat coursing through his veins. His hands roamed her body with a possessive hunger, tracing every curve and contour that he knew so intimately.

  With deliberate care, he reached for the hem of her dress, his touch gentle yet insistent as he pulled it up and over her head. Rosalie lay beneath him, her body exposed to his gaze, her eyes filled with a mixture of longing and anticipation.

  Tom looked down at her lovingly.

  "You're as beautiful as the day you left," Tom whispered against her skin, his lips trailing kisses along her neck and collarbone. He relished in the scent of her, his mind intoxicated by her presence despite the lingering reminder of Daniel.

  He slipped his hand over her underwear, tracing lightly as he moved back up to her face. Rosalie leaned against him, suppressing her noises as he moved. He used the opening to attack her neck again, kissing and pulling, his mind going crazy at the scent of her, fresh and lovely. He would replace Daniel's scent soon enough. 

  Rosalie's fingers travelled quickly downwards and worked at his belt, her movements fuelled by a familiar longing that stirred within her. Tom smirked as she undid his belt, his hands roaming her bare skin with a possessive fervor.

  Once the belt was thrown across the room, she began unbuttoning his shirt with a careful longing. Once his shirt was discarded, Rosalie eagerly explored his chest, reeling in the warmth of his skin against hers. Their mouths met again kiss, igniting a firestorm of passion between them.

  Tom reached for his pants, pulling them down as Rosalie pushed herself against him teasingly, her mind devoid of all things but Tom. First it was his pants, then his underwear, and suddenly, his length was teasing her though the thin fabric of her underwear. Her wetness slowly soaking through without much having happened.

  Suddenly, Tom pulled her onto his lap, their bodies pressed together in a heated embrace. In that moment, nothing else mattered but each others pleasure. 

  Tom reached down for Rosalie's underwear again, moving the fabric to the side to reveal her core, dripping and desperate for something to feel. Tom's cock throbbed at the sight of her, Rosalie looked down between them, her breathing heavy as she waited for Tom to do something.

  Slowly, he lifted her with one hand on her waist and the other beginning to push the head against her folds. Rosalie cursed under her breath at the sudden contact, and Tom looked up at her, his eyes full of desire. 

  He pushed into her after that, his eyes still locked onto her face as she grimaced at the sudden size, though he watched in pleasure as he saw the sudden glint of sweat on her forehead, and the sudden look of desire sweep across her face as he pushed deeper into her.

  Rosalie opened her eyes and locked them onto Tom's as he began to thrust himself in and out of her cunt; it wrapped around Tom with familiarity, clenching around him so tightly he had to close his eyes and felt his breathing derail. Rosalie pulled herself closer to him and pushed her forehead against his, feeling their combined wetness slipping out between them.

  She looked into his eyes, dark and loving designed to give her chills. 

  Tom felt the desire build up in him as he watched her so desperately moan as she felt his cock pushing deeper and deeper into her, her arms wrapped around his body tightly, and she didn't let go. She couldn't. He was her pain and her comfort.

  Sweat glistened on their skin as they moved together in perfect harmony, their bodies melding into one. Seeing Rosalie like this, in pleasure, in his arms, it was a perfect memory Tom couldn't let go. He kissed her, and felt his cock twitch as she stopped moving so much, trapping him in her warmth.

  Rosalie felt her breath hitch as his hand reached down between them, letting her rub herself on his hand as she moved. Her brain twitched at the stimulation, feeling every part of her being pleasured as her skin melted into Tom's.

  Rosalie was desperate, completely full to the point everything muddled together in her mind, Toms harsh breath on her neck as he held her against his chest, his rough hands on her waist as she rode him, the slight tug she put on Tom's hair.

  Tom could tell she was tired, but her body failing on his cock only gave him the instinct to work harder. He pushed her back to the bed, his movements inside her slowing down as he lifted his hand to brush the hair off of her glistening face. His hands trailed down her arms, smooth and perfect. He gripped onto her hand the moment he felt her fingers wrap around his own.

  Then he began to move again. He stroked her insides slowly, pressing his entire length through every throbbing part in her body. Rosalie let out a deep breath and held his hand tighter, her other hand stuck to his face as she examined it like it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen in this world. 

  Tom looked down at her, his heart beating, his mouth open at the way she looked into his eyes with so much love. 

  "Do you still love me?" Tom asked, vulnerability in his voice as he leant down to kiss Rosalie's cheek. 

  Rosalie moved her head, feeling him through every square inch of her body, his skin on her skin, reverberating across every particle of her matter. 

  And it was so clear to her then, her eyes open to his, that he was lonely. That he had been lonely before he met her and after he met her. 

  He was charismatic, magnetic, electric, and everybody knew it. He was a man that couldn't be contained, he was torn between being a good person and being someone that had the power  to be a good person.

  And in that way she understood him and she loved him.

  She loved him, She loved him, She loved him.

  She still loved him.

  She loved him.

  Rosalie's fingers tightened around his face, as she nodded desperately, her eyes squeezing shut, pulling him closer as she felt herself teetering on the brink of ecstasy. Their lips met in a tender kiss, her breath mingling with his as he responded with a primal grunt against her mouth, his movements growing more urgent.

  As she leaned her head back, waves of pleasure washed over her, her body trembling with the force of his final thrusts. She felt him deep inside her, his warmth flooding her senses as he released himself into her.

  Soft moans escaped her lips, the intimate connection they shared in that moment heard through her voice. Rosalie's gaze never wavered from Tom's, her eyes reflecting a mix of desire and vulnerability as she gazed up at him with unwavering adoration.

  A single tear slid down her cheek, but it was quickly replaced by a tender smile as she pressed her lips to his, nodding again.

  Tom hesitated, his gaze lingering on her tear-stained face, his heart torn between desire and restraint. He wanted to savour this moment, to prolong their connection for just a little longer.

  "Please, Tommy, I do love you," Rosalie whispered, her voice trembling with emotion as she clung to him, her confusion and longing evident in her tearful gaze.

  With a gentle sigh, Tom withdrew from her, shifting to sit beside her against the bed frame.

  Rosalie seized the opportunity, scrambling into his lap and enveloping him in a tight embrace, seeking comfort in his arms as if afraid he would disappear. Their bodies pressed together, their hearts beating as one, as they lingered in the aftermath of their embrace.

  Tom's head sat on top of Rosalie's as he traced down her backside, feeling the heat radiating from his skin which, made him happy, knowing he was the one responsible for it. 

  Quite abruptly, a gentler truth came from his mouth. "I hate this." Tom admitted quietly.

  Rosalie pulled herself out of hiding from Tom's neck and looked at him, wondering to what he was speaking about. Her hand lingered on his chest in a warming touch. 

  "Compared to what we once had- knowing he's  been inside of you when I should've-"

  "Tom." Rosalie interrupted his vulgar and jealous thoughts, setting his mind back onto the beautiful picture before him. Rosie's full chest pressed against his as she leant on his shoulder.

  "I don't know what this means, but right now nothing has changed."

  "Nothing has changed? Are you seriously that deluded?" His voice dripped with anger as he confronted her, his grip on her hand harsh and unforgiving. With a swift motion, he yanked Daniel's engagement ring from her finger, the metal igniting into flames at his mere touch. Without so much as a glance at the burning remnants, he cast the ashes aside.

  Drawing her closer to him, their bodies pressed together with an intensity that mirrored the fiery passion in his eyes.

  "Look around you, Rosie. This is where you belong," he declared, his tone laced with possessiveness. "Here, in bed, with me. Not with him." His words were punctuated by the realisation of her own arousal, a tangible reminder of their shared intimacy. "That sensation you feel, that wetness dripping from you? That's mine. Not his. Ever since you became my first, you've also become my last. And I expect nothing less from you, because you made a promise to me, Rosie."

  "A promise that you're mine."

  Rosalie's breaths came in heavy, the weight of her father's words echoing in her mind. He had promised her the world if she desired it, and now, she couldn't shake the feeling that perhaps she did.

  "I- I still need time." Her voice faltered as she began, her words feeling feeble compared to the gravity of the moment. She felt small in his presence, knowing he held the power to shatter her resolve with a single word.

  "He's never... Well- I've never let him do what you do," she admitted quietly, relishing in the tight grip he had on her waist, a physical reminder of his possession.

  Tom regarded her with a cold stare, his displeasure evident in his expression.

  "Let him do what?" His voice was sharp, demanding an answer.

  Rosalie hesitated, moistening her lips nervously before averting her gaze. But Tom was quick to reclaim her attention, his fingers capturing her chin and guiding her face back to meet his gaze. The intensity of his possessive stare sent a shiver down her spine, igniting a fire within her core.

  "Let him do what?" He repeated, his tone more forceful this time.

  "Finish. In me," she confessed softly, feeling exposed under his scrutinising gaze.

  Tom's reaction was immediate, his grip on her beginning to loosen as he processed her revelation.

  "I didn't want to risk getting pregnant or anything... it would have been..." Rosalie's words trailed off, her explanation faltering under the weight of his unwavering stare.

  "But you would for me?" His question hung heavy in the air, laden with implications that left her heart racing.

  Rosalie hesitated, the truth teetering on the edge of her lips.

  "I would do anything for you," she admitted finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

  Silence enveloped them, the tension palpable as they both grappled with the implications of her confession.

  "When you said you wanted me to have your baby, Tom, I was scared," Rosalie confessed, her vulnerability laid bare before him. "I didn't want to, but I knew how much it meant to you... and I wanted it to mean something to me too. I hoped that it would, but it never happened."

  She paused, gathering her thoughts before continuing.

  "It was that, and I also thought it would give me a reason... despite every moral fibre in my body that goes against you... to stay with you despite everything. But is it worth staying if the only thing keeping me there is something we created?"

  "We would've made it work. And I'll make it work now. My only regret in life is letting you leave me," he confessed, his words laced with a raw vulnerability as he pulled her close, seeking solace in her embrace.

  Rosalie melted into him, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her cheek as he closed his eyes, shutting out the world around them.

  "Never let that man even touch you again," Tom implored, his voice tinged with urgency and a hint of desperation.

  "Tom-" Rosalie began, her protest cut short by his plea.

  "Just promise me. Until we figure this out," he pleaded, his grip tightening around her as if afraid she might slip away from him again.

  "Okay. I promise," she relented, her voice soft and reassuring as she nestled closer to him, her fingers tracing soothing circles on his back.

  Tom held her tightly, his embrace a silent fear of losing her once more. Pressing a tender kiss to her forehead, he whispered softly, "Good. You are the only thing that matters."

---

  Rosalie's eyes shot open as the harsh morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a pale glow across the room. She looked up, Tom's face peaceful as he kept his grip on her tight. Their bodies stuck together from the heat that had set between them.

  She watched as Tom's eyes fluttered open to the soft light filtering through the curtains of the room. His eyes slowly adjusted to the morning brightness and he looked down to the familiar warmth of Rosalie's body nestled beside him. He turned his head, taking in the full sight of her features softened by the night they'd spent together.

  But the tranquility was short lived. As he watched, Rosalie's eyes stirred out of reality. Panic flickered across her face as she began to realise where she was, what time it was, and who she was with. Her breath quickened with alarm.

  "Shit, I'm so late," she muttered under her breath, scrambling to untangle herself from the sheets her and Tom shared. His grip tightened instinctively around her waist, a possessive reflex born from years of yearning and regret.

  "Going somewhere?" He asked, his voice rough with sleep. He pulled her back against his chest, his lips brushing against her cheek in a tender, yet possessive gesture. "You're not leaving."

  "I have to go, Tom," she insisted, her voice filled with urgency. "Daniel is probably worried sick about me. I need to get home."

  "Home?" Tom muttered, closing his eyes as he gripped tightly on her body, feeling the heat of her bare skin under his fingertips. 

  "Your home is wherever I am. That's what it is for me anyway. You're my home." He kissed her cheek again, trying to invoke something in her to convince her to stay. 

  Rosalie smiled, trying hard to fight the heat off with little success.

  "Don't say things like that. I really need to go, Daniel doesn't know where I am."

  Tom's eyes darkened at the mention of her fiancé. "Do you?" he murmured, his hand trailing down the side of her figure, fingers grazing her skin with a feather-light touch. He felt her body tense beneath his, the conflict clear in her eyes. "Do you really need to go?"

  His touch grew bolder, more insistent, and Rosalie's resolve began to waver. She felt the familiar pull of his presence, the intoxicating mix of desire and fear that he always seemed to provoke. With a resigned sigh, she turned back to face him, her lips meeting his in a kiss that was both desperate and tender.

  Tom deepened the kiss, his hands roaming over her body with a hunger that mirrored his own internal conflict. He knew the moral thing would be to let her go, but he'd sooner kill himself, the thought of losing her again was unbearable. 

  Breaking the kiss, he looked into her eyes, his voice a whisper of longing. "I want to show you something."

  Curiosity flickered in Rosalie's gaze as she searched his eyes, trying to understand what he meant. "Show me what?" she asked, her voice soft and hesitant.

  Tom sat up, pulling her with him, his fingers entwined with hers. "Come with me," he said, his tone a mixture of command and plea. He led her out of the bed, not giving her a chance to protest further.

  Rosalie scrambled to cover herself with the sheets, a sudden modest nature ensuing her. Tom looked back as he tugged at her hand, not caring for his bare body either.

"Tom, give me a minute..."

"I would say to just wear nothing but I doubt I'd enjoy having other men stare at you like this." Tom smiled, walking back to her while he picked up her blouse from last night and handed it to her, his hands lingering on hers as he passed it. 

  Rosalie grinned and kicked him with her foot, quickly getting dressed as he stood watching too eagerly for her own liking.

  "If you keep looking at me like that I'll have to curse you, Riddle."

  "Oh it's been years since you've called me that."

  "Yeah, I hated you to pieces. I was going to kill you."

  "And then you came to your senses and fell in love with me instead."

  "Riddle."

  "Yes, get used to it. It will be your last name eventually."

---

  The two of them walked in silence along the eastern outer region of London. Tom's hand dug itself into Rosalie's, tighter than the hold she had on his own heart. The city woke up around them, the buildings, as they walked further from the inner villages, seemed more dismantled and held more of a story than the rest.

  Rosalie was happy to walk with Tom like this; like they were a normal muggle couple taking a morning stroll. She could imagine it. She'd brew coffee for him when they got home, convince him to eat some breakfast before he went to the office, which he would never decline because he loved her cooking so much. She'd kiss him goodbye and welcome him home in the evening, and even though he had been the one working, it would be Tom offering her a shoulder rub.

  Like a precious memory the thought shot across her eyes and Tom could see it, and wondered if he should ask about it until he was pulled from his thoughts by the building at the end of the street. Dilapidated and torn to pieces from the war, it was a piece of history for him.

  Rosalie began to understand where they stood when Tom paused at the front door, the handle bent and burnt into a shape it wasn't meant to. The small tug from Rosalie at Tom's fingers gave him the final push to walk through the battered door, revealing a long corridor. The darkness only highlighted the dust waking up from where it had once settled.

  "This is the orphanage where I grew up," Tom said, leading her inside. They walked through the dimly lit corridors until they reached a small, bare room at the end and to the right. Tom looked at the room for a minute, letting go of Rosalie's hand as he took a short look out the hole in the wall that probably once used to be a window. 

  He sat, like on an old instinct, on the bed with a warped and broken metal bed frame. The dust flew into the air, and Rosalie stared at him while leant against the door frame. 

"I used to sleep here," he said quietly. "This was my bed."

  Rosalie looked around the room, her heart aching for the boy he once was. For the man he might have been. "It must have been so hard," she said softly.

  Tom nodded. "It was. I didn't have a mother or father. I was alone." He said, knowing that Rosalie knew that, though he had never specifically told her. A weight was lifting from his chest.

  "I was alone until the day I met you, Rosie. Please see that."

  He looked up at her, his eyes filled with pain backed behind layers of shielding that only Rosie was allowed to see through. "I never want that feeling for the child we will one day create."

  Rosalie's breath caught in her throat at what he was alternatively asking of her. She stepped closer, standing between his legs and placing her hands on his shoulders. "Tom," she said gently, "I'm grateful that you showed me this, that you opened up to me."

  Tom reached up, his hands resting on her hips as he leant his head against her chest. "One of the reasons I care for you so much is because I know you would never do what my mother did to me. You have such motherly and caring instincts. I know you would care for our family."

  Rosalie leaned down, kissing his forehead. "I want you to keep in contact with me," she said softly. "But right now, you need to trust me that I have to go back home to Daniel."

  Tom's grip tightened on her hips and he looked up at her, his eyes trying so desperately to capture hers. "Rosalie, please..."

  Rosie held him. "We're on different sides of a war you begun... But I've never truly left your side."

  She placed her hand on his face, holding him like he had always deserved. "I was yours long before I ever met Daniel," she said. "But I need to sort things out. Trust me."

  Tom was hesitant, his grip firm, his lips pursed. Every part of him just wanted to kill the man and get it over with, but he couldn't do that anymore. He had once done that and lost her for years. 

  Tom looked into her eyes, his heart breaking. "I trust you," he whispered for the first time. 

  Rosalie pulled him into an immediate and tight embrace, holding him close. "I'll always be yours," she whispered. Feeling more at ease with Tom than she ever had before. 

  Tom pressed a kiss to her hand that he pulled from his face. "You are the only thing that matters," he said softly, slowly getting up as he pushed a few of the stray hairs from her face. The light from the hole in the wall shone through all around her, and all he could do was trust her. He hated it.

  With one last lingering kiss, Rosalie pulled away and left the room. Tom watched her go, his heart heavy but filled with a glimmer of hope. Tom knew she would always come back to him.

  Always.