A/N (5/18/12): This chapter is dedicated to marksmom, who really, truly deserves a break. And to slayer of destiny, because we always joke about how, in our admiration of each other's M-rated scenes, we always seem to think of the other when we're writing them. That's not weird or anything, right?

Gotta warn y'all, this chapter is basically PWP. Seriously. I blame menopause.

Happy Reading & Blessed Be, y'all!





She could not restrain the strong shudder that took her entire body when Salazar murmured to her, his deep voice sensual and comforting, "Fear not, little one. We'll take excellent care of you, always." He then dropped his hand into his lap, palming his heavy erection slowly, and said to Thomas in a voice like darkest chocolate, "It is time, beloved. Take her."

As Thomas moved, all Alaria could do was whimper.



Salazar felt his cock lengthen and thicken as he watched a predatory Thomas moving slowly forward onto the bed, crimson gaze locked on the shivering, terrified form of a naked Alaria le Fey. The fresh, bloody bite on her neck highlighted her nudity, somehow, and sent even more lust surging through Thomas's body – a sensation of prideful arousal that Salazar felt through their soulbond, sending his own mirror-synapses firing rapidly.

Salazar leaned back in his chair, which had been positioned in this painting at the foot of Thomas's bed from the day they resumed occupancy of Slytherin Manor. From this very spot, he and Thomas had conducted the majority of their sexual life – Salazar in this chair, Thomas in the bed, directing each other, watching, sharing, caressing and orgasming night after night. They had watched each other with hungry, often desperate eyes. Their magic had reached through the boundary separating them and done all of the touching for them, and their life together had been passionate and intense. Voyeurism had assumed an entirely new level for Thomas and Salazar. Even though they had never physically touched, both men knew that their sexual lives together were infinitely more satisfying and passionate than most married couples could claim. But tonight, finally, there was a likelihood that they could end this torturous, erotic halflife that tormented them both. Tonight, with the unanticipated addition of a third to their union, would be the night that Salazar left his portrait behind, and joined his lover in this big, beautiful bed.

Lovers, that is.

Usually, a gift of such magnitude required a sacrifice of equal measure. And, it could certainly be said that having to turn their glorious love affair into a triad was a sacrifice – to some. However, neither Salazar nor Thomas felt in any way conflicted or disturbed at the inclusion of the alluring, virginal, brilliant, intriguing, fierce Alaria le Fey in their lives and their bed.

Indeed, as Thomas stalked the frightened young woman, who was presently reaching for a pillow in the vain hope of covering her more delicious bits from the heated view of the two Dominants, Salazar was certain that his only regret would be the fact that Thomas got to take her first.

'Still,' he mused, reclining more comfortably to have better access to his twitching cock, 'there are definitely benefits to having the best seat in the house.' He pressed a strong hand onto his erection, rubbing soothingly as he watched the little beauty on the bed begin to panic the closer Thomas moved. This moment would probably encapsulate precisely why so few Light wizards and witches were magical creatures; almost all would probably view this moment as unsavory. Salazar laughed darkly (of course). This was as far from unsavory as he could imagine. This delicious moment was in every way worth savoring.

Just as Thomas placed his hand on her bare thigh, Alaria bolted. She shoved the pillow heavily into Thomas's face and used all of her terrified adrenaline to push off with her feet and propel herself backward over the side of the bed, away from Thomas. At least, that was the plan. What really happened, however, is that – despite a faceful of pillow that he quickly batted aside – the little fae was caught halfway through her escape maneuver, leaving her extended full length on the bed, arms over her head and hanging over the side from her shoulders up. Thomas had caught her mid-leap, and was now resting atop her, strong hands gripping her waist and handsome face pressed against her breasts. He reacted predictably to Alaria's increasingly panicked struggles, greatly enjoying every delicious wiggle of hip and jiggle of breast taking place so delightfully for his appreciation.

Alaria, suddenly realizing that she was not making any headway in her escape except to further arouse her Lord, pulled her arms back in, put both hands over her face, and began to sob. It had all gone so horribly wrong! All her effort, all her hard work and sacrifice, and now, rather than being rewarded with a modicum of respect in the ranks of the Dark Lord, she was in his bed! She had to face the realization that neither the Dark Lord currently pressed nude and hard against her nor the one watching lustfully from the chair at the foot of the bed cared in any way about her as a person. She was just a body to be fucked and a means by which to return Salazar to life, and her entire future was only going to be lived at the grace and whim of these two wizards who didn't care about her at all. She was their pet, and she knew it. And the worst of all, to her, was the fact that so much of her inner nature seemed to be purring in contentment at the fact that her 'alpha' had showed his dominance so emphatically and desired her so much. She was confused and conflicted … and caught.

And all she could do was weep.

Both of the men felt her hopelessness through the bond that was beginning to form very lightly, activating out of the existence of the proscribed circumstances that Fate had laid out and the way their proximity to each other had begun to ignite their connection. Thomas and Salazar had been bonded for over thirty years now, despite the unusual situation, and so it was the two, together, whose souls and magics reached out for Alaria. She was their submissive. Of all the amazing facts that had presented themselves these past few hours, that one had the most resonance. Alaria was their submissive. She belonged to them, and they to her. As her Dominants, it was their right and their pleasure to protect her and keep her happy. Many people – most people – would have stopped their actions in the fact of such heartfelt sobs. Certainly, most men would probably lose at least some of their arousal in the face of a woman's tears.

But Thomas and Salazar were not most men. They were Dominants who stood at the apex of all other Dominants. They were alpha predators. They were brilliant, dangerous, cunning, and deeply passionate men. Even beyond that, they were magical creatures. And they understood that, having been forced to live within the Light for almost a decade, she did not fully understand what was happening to her. They had no doubt that, even now, the predjudices and misunderstandings of the Potters and the rest of Dumbledore's people were running through her head on a condemnatory loop of thought. Nothing would reassure their little mate better than to complete the bond, and let the entirety of truth comfort and soothe her as she began to see what it really meant to be the Submissive mate to the two most powerful Dark Lords of all time.

Shifting slightly, Thomas dropped his head and began to explore the treasure upon which he rested. He ran his tongue in a long, questing line from Alaria's rib cage to her navel, stopping to dip and swirl into the tempting shadow before journeying up again. His fine, strong nose nudged against the feminine weight of her breast, moving alluringly with each sob and quavering breath of its owner. His blood red eyes caressed the luscious bounty that trembled in his hands, and he watched in fascination as her nipples tightened into cherry red pebbles beneath his curious fingers. Deciding that they looked delicious, he lowered his head and ran his tongue in an exploratory circle around the hardened tip before sucking her nipple into his hot mouth. Delighted with the texture that pressed against his tongue and the sweet taste of her skin in his mouth, Thomas hummed in pleasure, tightened his securing grip on the naked hips, and settled down to savor.

Salazar's stare was heated and incredibly intense as he watched his mates on the bed. They were merely a yard or so away from him, and he wanted to join them desperately. He felt the magic pulling and tugging, even as Thomas's tongue pulled and tugged at Alaria's nipple, and Salazar was certain that he would be freed from this portrait very soon. He could sense that his freedom hinged on the triad's desire for each other being nearly equal. Alaria had to want them as much as they wanted her – challenging, considering he was limited to voice and magic, and Thomas was limited to everything except magic. It would happen, though, and soon. Both Salazar and Thomas could feel Alaria's submissive creature reaching for her Dominants, despite her fears. Salazar let his magic flow out to his little mate, knowing that it would comfort her, at least enough for her body and instincts to take over. Having done all he could actively contribute, for now, he settled into following Thomas's lead and savoring this experience. And truly, there was much to enjoy.

Salazar's crimson eyes focused tightly on the beautiful, nude form of Thomas. He was such an incredibly masculine man! The elder wizard had to shift slightly to accommodate his increasing need. The sight on the bed was impossibly erotic. Thomas's long, hard body was stretched firmly atop Alaria's softer form. They were a study in opposites, yet perfect together. Salazar could probably achieve climax just for the sight of Thomas suckling and savoring Alaria's breasts, his tongue swirling and tugging as his hands kneaded her flesh and his hips moved in small, unconscious thrusts against her curvy thighs. Alaria's small hands were now deep in Thomas's thick hair, holding his head to her without realizing she did so, her aquamarine eyes opened wide and – with a shock that went straight to his almost painfully-hard erection -Salazar abruptly realized that Alaria's head was turned and she was staring directly at him, even as Thomas lay upon her, nude and wanting. He watched, enraptured, as their little mate's hips rolled upward slightly with each tug of Thomas's lips on her nipples, her confused eyes fixed on Salazar as if needing a safe anchor in this frightening new world.

He watched, mouth open and panting slightly, as Thomas's long-fingered hand wandered confidently down the silken length of Alaria's body, past the dip of her navel and sweep of her hip, and moved over the womanly swell of abdomen in an unerring glide between her parted thighs. Elegant fingers slid through curly, bronze hair in a smooth, slick caress that parted her nether lips and sank into the hot, delightfully wet core of their little mate.

Alaria gasped in shock, and Thomas growled in approval, as Thomas's sure fingers confidently explored and caressed her heated depths. Two fingers sank deeply into her wet body, thumb pressed confidently on the clitoris that she had barely even acknowledged before. As Salazar absorbed the erotic vibrations rebounding down the bond, Alaria's bewildered wail of pleasure was all he needed to make him frantically undo his opened trousers and draw himself out, cradling his hard length with a hiss of caution as his smallest touch almost sent him overboard. Salazar kicked his trousers off impatiently, wrapping thumb and forefinger tightly around the base of his own cock in a near-stranglehold as he forced his orgasm back. As incredibly arousing as it was to watch his two mates writhing on the bed in front of him, Salazar was not going to cum until he was balls deep in one or the other of them. He had waited far too long to surrender the glory of that moment to his own impatience. With that in mind, he closed his eyes, trying to cut off as much stimulation as possible while his urgency retreated.

When he opened them again, he could not restrain his own moan, casting a glaring look of appeal at his smirking, demonic mate. Thomas had repositioned Alaria on the bed, and she was now lying with her head extending off the food of the bed, with Thomas's head positioned between her spread thighs and his tongue eagerly licking and lapping at Alaria's tender flesh. She stared directly at Salazar, mouth open in a silent scream of shocked pleasure, and if he were flesh … oh, Merlin, if he weren't in the portrait! … he would be able to simply step forward and slide his desperate hardness directly into her open mouth. He could almost feel the hot, wet suction of her mouth around his needy cock, and could not help but moan again when Thomas raised his head from his luscious banquet, heatedly meeting his eyes as he wiped uncaringly at his chin. Thomas seized Salazar's stare with his own, strong hands spreading Alaria's thighs even farther, and kept their gazes locked as he pinned their little beauty to the bed and extended his tongue to delicately touch upon the center of her sensation. As his tongue tickled and vibrated against her swollen clitoris, two long fingers reached between her legs and entered her core, gathering her moisture and pressing deep inside even as Thomas's tongue sent her reeling and his eyes stayed locked meaningfully with Salazar's.

Alaria's hand shot downward to seize Thomas's hair, trying to pull his head away as the building sensation became too much for her and the triadic pathways began to hum with need. He refused her demand, instead capturing her hand in his and causing her to touch herself, forcing her hand to move with his along her soaking entrance and gathering the fluid that seemed to increase as Thomas's wickedly skilled tongue completed its mission and sent her screaming into strange spasms of ecstasy. She felt his tongue flatten and somehow vibrate against her pulsing nub, forcing her pleasure to ramp up and peak again. His fingers moved within her skillfully, refusing to release her hand and using it as just another way to force sensation upon her. She began to shake her head in violent negation as she felt his other hand, which had been clutching her hip, dip into the moisture between her legs before moving to her buttocks, parting them even as she shuddered in orgasm and forcing a long finger into the dusky rosebud that hid there. Somehow, that last invasion trebled her seizures of pleasure, and with no other outlet, she threw her head back, eyes fixed wildly on her perfect view of Salazar's cock, and screamed.

And it was then, with Alaria nearly mindless and both Thomas and Salazar increasingly and equally desperate for release, that Thomas pulled his and Alaria's hands from between her thighs, both wet with the fluids of her pleasure, and leaned forward. His intense red stare never once left Salazar's as he extended both his and Alaria's hands past the end of the bed, over Alaria's head, to Salazar. And somehow, without thinking about it, without even trying to understand it, Salazar released the near-stranglehold he had on himself and reached for them. Had he been thinking, he would have said that they would press hands against the portrait surface, as if each pressing against a window. But that isn't what happened. Magic and sex and need and purest, desperate want stripped away the portraiting barrier, ripped the severed half of Salazar's soul from the locket and flung it back into him, and with sound akin to a static snap, Salazar's hand emerged from the portrait and grasped those of his mates.

Even as her body shuddered in pleasurable spasms, Alaria's intent and magic were focused with her mates. Somehow, everything that she was, and everything that she knew, and all that her magic would allow her to be, crystallized, and it was she – the fae -who first touched and penetrated the portrait. It was she who allowed Salazar's hand to emerge and grasp them. And it was she who guided the convergence of their magics that allowed the portrait itself to ripple and flex and dissolve, molecules rearranging and transmuting and becoming – life.

In the shaken moments that followed, the sounds in the room consisted entirely of gasps and tiny sobs. Stunned, Salazar and Thomas clung to each other's hands, Alaria's clasped between them, and stared into each other's eyes in awe and doubt. They had wanted this, needed this, for so long, that it was almost impossible to believe it was real. Only Alaria's soft hand, held between theirs and anchoring them together, convinced them. The fact that the tableau of them would have done any brothel proud only occurred to them much later. For now, they remained frozen, each naked, both men proudly aroused and poised by the gleaming, naked form of their little mate.

Together. Picture perfect.


A/N2: So, yeah … :::: ahem!::::: … How about this crazy weather we're having? …. heh heh.