Summary: Remus Lupin discovers that dreams sometimes do come true when the source is Nymphadora Tonks.

Warning: Rated M for Sexual Content. These are scenes from Nymph vs Wolf, but with embellished details of their sexual encounters. Don't read this for character development..

Disclaimer: Lupin and Tonks belong to JKR. I'm just embellishing their story.


Wounded Hearts

Tonks' Flat

I have just come back from a mission only to receive the grim news that I am to undergo screening for silver poisoning. Although I have volunteered to have the silver knives cutting my body, I come to see Nymphadora Tonks because I need some light in this dark moment.

State sanctioned torture I can deal with, but not this. I understand Tonks being out on a date; she's young; she should find a nice man. But to discover that the dim-witted git, Blakesley, had kissed my Tonks! The thought makes my heart tighten, but then my attention goes back to her.

Her eyes are sparkling as she insists, "My virtue was never in danger! And it wasn't as if I could have dodged it. I mean he--he--did this."

She puts one hand at the back of my head while her other is pressing against my cheek. I can't move; I don't want to move.

Ow. Damn, I should have moved! How could she miss my lips, but clip my nose perfectly? Wait. Did she get flustered when she realized she was about to kiss a werewolf? Surely she's not new at this, too?

She's beet red and covering her face in embarrassment. "I am so hopeless."

She wasn't even thinking about my lycanthropy. She is as naive as I am, but hopeless? I can't let her think that! She's a perfectly feminine woman and it's my fault that I didn't meet her kiss.

"No, you're not hopeless, Nymphadora. I'm the one who's the novice."

"What?" Her hands fall away from her face and the question is echoed in her eyes. Doesn't she realize she's dealing with someone equally inept at romantic moves?

But it's not as if I don't know what to do. It's not as if we haven't shared a multitude of kisses in my dreams, my fantasies. I cup her face and tell myself I should stop, that this is foolish, that it's the wolf in me coming out so close to the full moon. But a wolf wouldn't feel this urgent need to kiss the human woman, so I know better than to blame him. I, Remus, the man, want to kiss Tonks and this would be true whether or not I was cursed.

I tilt my head and lean forward knowing that I will find her lips and feel as if I'm lost in one of my dreams. I'll just brush her lips with my own, that's all; just an innocent kiss between friends. But her lips are warm, soft, moist and she is not passive. No, her lips part and trace my own while her body is pressing against mine. I feel the bodice of her dress graze against my chest as my tongue darts out to taste her, to trace the smooth contours of that delicious mouth.

This is our first kiss--and I realize it will have to be our last. My pleasure is not the issue here; her future is more important. Will she be disgusted that a werewolf is kissing her, contaminating her? I know the Curse requires a bite at full moon, but surely she has that fear in the back of her mind? I am a monster, I tell myself, a monster who has no business kissing this beautiful nymph outside of the protection of a dream.

I manage to control myself and we pull away breathless. I can't look at her and I hear my voice shaking when I say, "I hope I've proved my point."

"I didn't expect it to feel so, so--wicked!." From the corner of my eye I can see that's she's touching her lips in wonder instead of rubbing them in disgust.

I can only shake my head. "I didn't expect any of this."

Why isn't she hexing me? Why isn't she rejecting me? I need to leave before she realizes what I've done, but then I feel her hand on my arm.

"Remus, what's wrong with this? I thought, I mean, I know I'm not a Fleur, but--"

I can't leave and my heart seems to stop when I realize that instead of reviling me, she thinks she's the problem. I shake my head because she's wrong. My hands are clasped in front of me just to keep myself from touching her again. Have I become such a lecher in my old age? I search for the logic that had deserted me and say the first thing that comes to mind.

"I'm too old for this."

"Remus, I've seen enough of the boy in you to know you haven't lost him yet."

She puts her hands around the back of my neck and again I am completely still. She doesn't think I'm some old lecher taking advantage of an innocent witch? And I realize my mistake in letting this friendship grow between us. She has seen through my guise of the Professor; she taps into the Marauder as easily as my mates at Hogwarts ever did.

I know I should fling her arms away, but but I don't want to hurt her. I look up, I open my mouth to try to speak, but instead, she just leans forward and kisses me, perfectly on target. I hesitate for a moment, but then the sensations of her mouth take over. We might be novices at this kissing, but I can't imagine gaining more pleasure if I'd been kissed by Aprhodite herself.

But I cannot encourage this, so I pull away. I need to convince her that I am not worth her interest. The lust I feel for her cannot become more important than her friendship. I don't want to lose her because she'll discover what a poor candidate I am for a lover, a husband. Poor. There's a pervasive deficit. Surely she has too much pride to get involved with an indigent scholar?

"I'm too poor, Nymphadora. I don't even have a job except for the work with the Order."

But she doesn't draw away. Instead she puts her cheek against mine and whispers, "My heart isn't for sale, Remus, but I'd give it to you freely."

Again I think I'm lost in one of my dreams because she seals the promise of her words with another kiss. Now my heart is soaring at the thought that she would offer me her heart. This luscious body against mine is not just to assuage sexual curiosity, but an offer that springs from the very heart of her feelings.

I am drowning in the kiss this time and my body is pressing her back against the sofa. Nymphadora Tonks is mine? My lips follow the line of her throat and she moans as I taste her skin. Smooth, warm skin, unfettered by scars. I want to touch her so my right hand moves up her body and she squirms under me, leaving one thigh captured between her legs. I can feel her warmth against me even through our clothing.

I can only stop kissing her when she begins her own assault on my throat. Merlin! I never realized how sensitive--My hand clenches and her moan makes me realize that it's at the bodice of her dress. I pull the strap of her dress down and my mouth falls to skim along the top of her breasts. Perfectly proportioned, soft, yet firm. My cheek is lying against her and I feel her hands caressing the back of my neck. None of her actions speak of rejection, only invitation.

My hand now moves down her body again and I kiss her mouth even as my fingers slip under the skirt of her dress. I have an urgent need to caress the soft thigh under the garment and she bends her knee to facilitate that caress so that my fingers can skim along the expanse of her thigh. Our bodies are pressing against each other, but the clothing prevents the contact of our desire.

I feel her tugging my shirt out and soon her hand is brushing against my back. I become sensitized to her caresses even through the scars. Her fingers then glide along the waistband of my trousers and she finds the one place across my belly that is without scars. The caress inflames me quickly and the urgent lust practically consumes me.

It would be so easy to make her my woman, but I have to make a decision between what is right and what is easy. I would be using Tonks to serve my own pleasure, as a salve for my fear of what the silver screening will bring. And if I survive, I cannot expect her to live with my curse.

The thought douses me as effectively as cold water. I become still and just bury my face in her hair to breathe in her scent one last time. I need to walk away, but the memory of her unique fragrance I would carry with me, perhaps to my very grave.

But what do I leave her with? Regret? Relief? Rage? Yes, anger directed against me. That would be best.

"No, we can't do this. There's too much danger." I move my body away from hers.

I sit up and rake a hand through my hair while I pull myself together.

She watches me in confusion. "Danger? Remus, what exactly do you think I do for a living? I'm an Auror, for Merlin's sake."

"And I'm a werewolf; I'm cursed and I have no intention of dragging you into this with me."

"But I don't care--"

"Well, I do." I grab my jacket and call myself a coward for running away, but this is best for her. I walk to the door and insist, "And since I am older, I need to protect you."

"I don't need your protection." She's standing with her fists clenched.

Good, I've gotten her angry with me. And I know I need to leave with a cutting remark. I can't face her, so I keep my back turned to her. I use that scathing tone that I know will hurt her.

"No, what you need to do is grow up, Nymphadora, and learn the difference between lust and love."

I disapparate as soon as I close the door, but I can't go to my room at Grimmauld Place yet. I deliberately hurt Tonks. I wanted her to think I lost my head in a moment of lust, but the truth is that no other woman has consumed my thoughts the way she has. I walk for a long time knowing that if I do fall asleep, I will only dream of her.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Two days later I have survived the silver screening. I'm lying in bed and in my arms I feel as if I hold the warm body of a woman. I take a deep breath and the scent confirms it is Nymphadora Tonks. My eyes flutter open and I see the familiar pink hair. Light is filling the room, but I know this must be one of my nymphatic dreams. Tonks is ever with me then.

I squeeze her tightly and bury my head in those soft, pink locks. My lips trace the outline of her earlobe. Not very erotic, but then my dreams of Tonks aren't always lust-filled moments. This quiet comfort sooths me, then I feel her body turn around and her eyes stare into mine.

My hand touches her chin and I lean forward to kiss her softly as I always do in my dreams. A little moan escapes her throat just as a low moan of pain escapes from me.

Pain? I feel like a pincushion! I pull back with a wince as I realize, "This isn't a dream, is it?"

She sighs. "No, it's all real. Where does it hurt?"

She's sitting up and unbuttoning the shirt of the pajamas I wear, but now I'm sufficiently lucid to realize this is no dream. I can't let her see all the scars; she'll be disgusted! My hand goes out automatically to stop her and I say, "Don't."

"Remus, it's a bit too late for modesty. I've seen you; I gave you all those new scars."

Right, she wielded the knife during the silver sceening. And now her voice is breaking and I realize the price she paid to have raised her hand against me. I now understand that each slice of the knife made her own heart bleed. "But I hurt you a lot worse."

She tries to fight the tears, but has reached her limit. No, she's not just my brave comrade nor is she just a body I yearn to touch. The beauty of her soul transcends the physical traits and makes me feel complete. No wonder Sirius called me a fool! I've fallen in love Nymphadora Tonks and that's the most foolish thing I could have done.

I hold her and stroke her hair to comfort her. I wish I hadn't brought her tears. I wish I could make her smile and give her joy, but all I can do is say, "I'm sorry, Nymphadora."

"Quit apologizing." She swats my shoulder then moans, "Oh, no, now I'm hurting you again."

"Tonks, don't fret, it's all right." I wrap my arms around her and just rock her for a moment. The movement offered no pain this time, just warmth. "What am I going to do with you?"

"Well, I have a few ideas, but you seem to think you're all wrong for me."

"And I am, Tonks." But if I'm insisting I'm so wrong for her, why do my arms tighten around her? Because in truth, I never want to let her go. .

"Prove it then," she challenges as she pulls back to look into my eyes. "Go out with me and prove it."

"We can't go out." My defenses come up automatically.

"Then you can't prove that you're the wrong man for me, can you?" Tonks sits up in bed and I can see by the gleam in her eye that she's ready to argue.

"I--I," What do I say? I start with the obvious, but she argues against each point. Finally I come up with the one solution that is guaranteed to take her away from me. "You have to promise me you'll have a comparison."

Three dates, we agree, Tonks must go on three dates while I'm away on mission before I'll take her to my home at Wolf Rock lighthouse for our first date. We shake hands on the bargain, but then she snuggles against me again so we can get more rest. I store the feeling in my heart because I expect I will never be able to hold her closely again.

- - - - - - - - - - -

The Dating Game

Wolf Rock

I did my best to ruin our first date, but somehow my lovely Auror has dodged all of my efforts. She was doused with the cold ocean spray on the skiff that brought us to the lighthouse, but rather than getting mad, she got out of her wet clothes and donned an old gray sweater. But does she look drab? No, the cashmere clings softly to her body and hugs the swell of her breasts, the curve of her hips, and as it comes to her knees, I can see the trim limbs extending beneath. The long socks are a perfect complement to her outfit with their rainbow pattern.

I return to the parlor to find her perched on the stool by the window with one eye against the spyglass. Her foot is tapping to the tune on the wireless and the creamy inner thigh of one leg is exposed and I am mesmerized. I remember how that smooth skin feels and am tempted by the delights that would await my exploration. But I shake off this innocent seduction determined to succeed in ruining this date.

But Tonks just leans against me as we update the starlogs. I try another boring lecture on the stars, but she just wiggles to adjust her back against me before finding the stars I indicate with ease, even the constellation Lupus.

She finds it faster than I can, so I move in close to take a look. "Right, there it is. Nymphadora, I think you have a gift for this."

"What do I get as a reward?"

Her bright tone makes me suspicious. We're practically cheek to cheek and her light perfume wafts toward me. She kisses me lightly, just enough to tantalize my appetite for her and I have to prevent my own pursuit of her lips.

"I think I'll do another one," she says.

A kiss or a star? Either way, there's an air of confidence about her now. "You're getting a bit cocky, aren't you?"

"If I find the next constellation within ten seconds, do I get another kiss?" she taunts.

And so another strategy to ruin the date seems to have fallen by the wayside. How did she turn the tables on me? I know I should be refuse the challenge, but then it's unlikely she'll get lucky twice.

"Right, then how about finding this one?" I point to the Chameleon, a difficult constellation to find.

She sets her eye immediately to the spyglass and I can't help but taunt her by creating a countdown of ten that shimmers in front of us. I watch the decrements and my heart starts racing, but from fear that she will win or lose, I'm uncertain.

Just at ten, she squeals, "I found it!"

I move forward to confirm the sighting, but when I move back, she's smiling at me. Her demand is simple. "Pay up."

A sigh escapes me, but it is more from relief at finally being able to kiss her as I desire. I bend to take her mouth and she meets me enthusiastically. The cashmere is soft against my hands as they rub against her back. She crooks one leg to trap me against her and my hand moves down to caress the exposed skin of her thigh. I let my fingers wander along and travel a path up to her waist until I finally cup her breast. She moans softly against me and I feel her hand skimming along my ribs, but stopping at the top of my waistband.

I end the kiss and just touch my forehead to hers. I admit that I tried to sabotage our date, but nothing shakes her resolve.

"Remus, I went through a lot just to get this one date from you. I endured a giggolo, a joker and a lunatic who wanted a brood mare. Don't you think I should be given some time to convince you that we can have something more than just friendship?"

"It isn't that simple."

"Then just tell me that you can't love me. Tell me that and I'll understand." Her gaze stays on mine, so I turn my head thinking I can speak a lie, but she touches my chin and traps my eyes with the questioning look in her own.

"I can't."

"You can't what?"

I swallow and try again. "I can't-- no, I can't say it."

As I finally turn my back on her, she says, "Until you do, then I'll live on the hope that you can love me if you'd only let yourself."

I feel her arms embrace me and she leans into my back.

"Three dates, Remus, just give me three dates to prove to you that we could make this work. If you're right, then I'll find out for myself why it's so wrong to be with you."

"But if you're not convinced and I still think it's a bad idea?"

"I'm not going to make myself a nuisance to you, Remus. We have a war to fight."

"All right, three dates in public."

The lightning flashes as we shake hands and the wind blows in the storms that had threatened earlier. I glance out the window and suggest waiting before taking her home. She ups the ante by insisting on spending the night at the lighthouse. I think she's decided to kick me out of my own bed, but no. It appears that as payback for drenching her with the sea, I am to be used as a bed warmer.

"I'm recovering from the cold ocean spray. Feel me shiver?"

She stops suddenly as she's leading me down the endless stairs. Indeed, I can feel the shiver running up her spine as my hands move up her arms and stop at her shoulders. She's leaning back and her hands brush against the front of my trousers. It's a guileless maneuver because she's as inexperienced as I am, but my body responds to the innocent seduction.

I realize we're actually at my bedroom. My heart is racing at the possibilities of what lies behind the door. It would be a mistake to let lust lead me astray with Tonks. "Do you really think this is a good idea?"

Her voice takes on a challenging tone as she turns around to confront me. "Do you really think I'm so easy that I'd let you take certain liberties on a first date?"

She's right. I wouldn't want to cheat her of her virginity for the sake of slating my lust when I can't offer her a future. Still, there is much that can be explored in a physical relationship and the ache in my body is rising.

"I think there's a number of liberties you'd let me take." A Marauder doesn't walk away from a challenge, so I lean into her and have her backed against the door. I hear her catch her breath as my body presses against hers, her legs part as my own inserts itself against her desire. My only thought is to get as close as possible, but when I lean in to kiss her, the door moves open.

Eek! Oof!

I manage to break her fall, but now I have a giggling bundle of Tonks laying on top of me. What a delicious feeling this is. My hand sweeps up and down her back as I just hold her for a moment. "What am I going to do with you?"

"You're going to take certain liberties but not cross the line because we're both not made like that." She props up to look at me with twinkling eyes, but then her voice becomes serious. "I'm the one who's likely to muck this up, Remus. Remember my sign: Mortal Peril? Just give me enough rope and I'll hang myself."

Or catch a werewolf, I think as I rake a hand through her pink, spiky hair. It feels good not to fight the strong emotions that draw me to this woman. My smile belies my grumbled words, "Let's get some sleep, then. We'll have to get up early to get you back in time for work."

"You know, I think I'm quite comfy here," she says as she drops her head to nuzzle my neck.

She doesn't kiss me, but I feel her warm breath against my throat as my hands trail down her back. The curve of her hips is inviting and she squirms against me as my fingers rub her. What are the limits of my liberties, I wonder.

I cup her hips and slide her body up mine so that I can kiss her mouth. I lose myself in her enthusiasm for my kiss, but before I roll her over to press her against the floor, I realize how uncomfortable that would be. And how dangerous.

So I rise and haul her over my shoulder and she's giggling again, telling me to put her down, but when I go to plop her on the bed, she maneuvers to wrap her legs around me. The momentum carries us to the bed and I slide up automatically to feel the pressure of her warmth against my need. Merlin, this feels so good!

I begin kissing her neck and my fingers move up to tease her breasts. I lose sense of time but manage to halt my movements. I capture her wandering hands and look into her eyes. She smiles as she scoots out from under me.

"Aren't you going to offer me a shirt or something to sleep in?"

Well, I can't expect her to sleep nude--and why did I have to generate that image? I shake my head and use the opportunity to walk to my bureau. As I pull out a drawer, I feel her thrusting her head under my arm to peek at my rather drab and limited selection.

"This'll do," she says as she grabs a red pajama set. She tosses the bottoms at me while she runs into the bathroom with the top and calls in a sing-song voice, "I'll be just a minute."

I stare at the pajama bottoms as I consider whether to wear them or get a different set. Before I know it, she's running out of the loo and taking a running leap to dive into bed. I can see her wriggling under the covers as she calls, "Hurry up, Remus, I'm still cold."

Her bright eyes are peering up at me, so just to establish that I am the lord of my domain, I grab another set of pajamas and go to the loo. I hear her taunt me. "You'll pay for your defiance, Professor!"

Her back is turned toward me when I come to bed, so I spoon her body with mine and feel a wonderful contentment at this simple touch. My hand brushes across her waist and I realize a button is missing right at her belly. Of course, there's only one thing to do.

I tickle her and she jumps against me in delicious pressure. In fact her continued squirming as I continue my attack is stimulating. I relent when she turns to snuggle against my chest, so I accommodate this. I feel her yawn against me.

"Remus?" Her voice seems very sleepy as she begins. "Remember that payback?"

As she says this, she bends her leg so that the crook of her knee is lying on top of my arousal. My breath catches and she rubs against me. Oh, bloody hell, she's won! That was my last coherent thought for a long time.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

I told him he had restricted liberties, but I trust my Marauder to want to test the limits. I know that I am curious about his body and given the way he responds to me, I know he has discoveries he wants to make.

But so do I. I don't feel like such an inept woman with him and that makes me bolder than I would be with any other man. I move my thigh against his arousal just to test his response and it's--amazing. His desire clearly grows and I want to discover this for myself. He brings a hand to push my thigh away, so I snake my hand under his arm and touch him through the cloth of the pajamas and the boxers he wears.

The layers offer some sense of limits, but I let my hand explore the length I feel. I don't want him to push me away, so I kiss his lips. The hungry way his mouth catches mine encourages me. Do I have power over Remus Lupin? Can I make him lose control?

My hand begins to stroke as my lips wander to his slender neck and my pelvis moves to press against his hip. Oh, this feels wicked and right at the same time! I feel his hand fluttering at my upper arm, again to try to halt my movements, but I turn a bit and as soon as his fingers graze my nipples, I feel him follow through to caress me in earnest.

My fumbling movements are inexperienced, but then I feel his other hand on top of mine. Instead of plying away my fingers, he just covers mine and introduces me to a familiar rhythm. I quickly learn what he wants and oblige.

And then I feel his hand slipping under the pajama shirt. His caresses are in perfect time as he follows the contours of my body covered by the nickers. We are lost in these moments of exploration when he clutches at my hip suddenly and I know I've succeeded in giving him release.

The power of reducing this erudite man into inarticulate grunts is quite exhilarating. I increase the pressure against him as his body is thrusting to spend his desire. He takes one long, deep breath, then lays back, just holding me closely to him as his breath becomes regular again.

His embrace is followed by a quick kiss, a whispered thank you, and I can see a reflection of my smile in his own face before I snuggle into him. I think he's fallen asleep, so I swallow my disappointment, but then I feel his hand caress my breast with the lightest touch. The moan escapes me only to be silenced when he kisses my mouth.

I feel his fingers slide under my shirt and begin to trail down my belly. I catch my breath because I know what I want him to do, although I would never ask. But he can read my body so well because the next instant I feel him doing a slow, circular glide that makes me moan in pleasure.

He kisses my neck and I hear him whisper, "Show me."

I smile as he continues to nibble on my throat while I bring my hand over his to reveal what I want, just as he did for me.

His other hand unfastens the top button of the shirt I stole from him. My hands move up to stroke his hair as he nuzzles against my breasts. My body is barely exposed at all, but the sensations he's creating with his ministrations make me realize that he doesn't need to have me naked to reduce me to a puddle of desire.

I've never let any other man touch me like this. The pressure changes to his knuckles as he takes charge of the rhythm that's driving me over the edge. The climax explodes and I realize my back has arched off the bed and it happens again and again and... I put my hand on his to stop this exquisite torture.

"You are so beautiful, Nymphadora," he whispers as he holds me.

Damn, he's good--or I'm easy--or maybe we're both desperate and sexually frustrated. Or maybe, just maybe, we're a perfect match.

End Chapter 1

Author Notes:

Hopefully you still felt emotionally connected to the characters. I've pulled out these scenes because I want the Nymph vs Wolf story accessible to most teenaged readers.

Not much in the way of erotica, I suppose, but there will be other chapters.

Thanks for reading. I don't expect reviews as these are just missing scenes, but if you're a new reader, then Nymph vs Wolf has the rest of the story.