Angel Without Wings

By: ObsidianWolf97

Disclaimer: All characters are property of JK Rowling. I in no way make any profit from this work.

A/N: This is the companion piece to Call to Me. This could still be considered my first lemon, technically, but here it is. Again, I would really appreciate some major feedback on this. Please read and review!

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Most people say love is a simple thing. Others, that it doesn't exist. I beg to differ. Not only does it exist, it exists to torment the soul. I know of love. I always have, since I first laid eyes on him. At first, I simply believed it was his fame that drew me to him. I wanted that fame, and then, he turned away from me for someone else.

I was heartbroken. I could never have him. So, I resorted to the only way I knew to retaliate, to make him feel some semblance of the pain he had brought on me. I taunted him, about anything and everything, his parents, friends, family, grades, fame, the dirt on his shoes if I could manage it. I earned his attention and gradually drove him further from me in my quest for the thrill I received when he looked at me, be it with scorn or affection, the latter of which I never received in six long years of pining. It was in my fourth year, when he entered the tournament, that I felt the most strange of my symptoms.

My stomach plummeted, my heart clenched, and I had to fight back a shout as he fought to survive. Once, I caught myself running out of oxygen. I had forgotten to breathe in my fear. And a few months later, I couldn't take my eyes from him, though I knew all it would produce were scowls in return. I couldn't help myself. I wanted him, needed him, but I slowly convinced myself, as I knew I should, even as he grew more beautiful, that there was no way I could have him.

I believed it.

As such, it came as quite a shock when I was called to the Headmaster's office almost three months ago. I froze in the doorway when I saw that he was there, sitting opposite the Headmaster, eyes trained on the door. They explained that he was a vampire, not just any vampire, a day-walker, and as such was the type of vampire that took a mate, one mate, for a lifetime. I sat very still, trying to process one thing and one thing only, what this information had to do with me. I decided it was a good thing I had never acted on my feelings toward him. It would have been devastating for the both of us had he gotten involved. His mate would never have accepted him.

He cleared his throat and I looked up, scowl in place. He smiled softly and explained in a whisper that not only had he found his mate, his mate was at school. He watched me for a moment then whispered my name. My blood froze as I took in the emotion in his eyes. I was his mate. My mask slipped and emotions tumbled across my face before I was able to block them off again, but I couldn't suppress the fear clenching my stomach. I knew he could see it.

It was too good to be true. This had to be a joke, a cruel joke. I left quickly, not trusting myself to speak, and avoided him as much as possible. But he wouldn't leave me alone. Whenever we were alone in a corridor, a classroom, anywhere, he would strike up a conversation. I tried to ignore him, but I felt myself slowly coming around to the fact that, yes, I was his mate. He wasn't lying. The reading I did on vampires helped too. I found out that a day-walker has only one mate, what normal people call soul mates. A vampire will never settle for a substitute. Mates provide nourishment for the vampire, blood, in other words. They will have their mate or live alone forever, feeding from blood donors.

This information helped sooth me a bit and soon I was turning him away with a casual, "I'm not ready." And I couldn't deny that it was a dream come true. How many times had I wished, prayed, that he would love me in return? And still, I couldn't bring myself to face him. I couldn't convince myself that he was sincere. So, I usually settled for the next best thing to having him beside me.

I drew myself away from my melancholy thoughts with difficulty. It was hard to do now, with so many doubts and concerns running through my head. I didn't know where one ended and another began. I wanted them to go away, so I made them.

I gently pulled off my boxers, throwing them across the room, and let my hands roam my body, imagining him above me. My cock responded immediately, just to the thought of him. I could deny my want of him easily, but my body betrayed me every time I went near him, just as it was now.

My hand trailed down my body, brushing lightly over my nipples, bypassing the planes of my stomach to grab my leaking cock. I moaned at the contact and shivers coursed through me. If only it was his hand doing me in. I would be in heaven.

I moaned again as I began pumping, squeezing gently, twisting my wrist to add an extra jolt of pleasure. Soon, I was lost in my fantasy, one I had experienced hundreds of times, more often now that it was so close to reality. He was with me, taking me with him into new levels of ecstacy that I had never thought existed. He was smiling, actually smiling at me, looking at me in adoration. I moaned again, body bucking from the bed as I continued, my hand moving so feverishly that my cock slipped from my fingers.

The next moment something hot and wet encased me and I gasped, arching again, my hand tangling in something warm and soft. Then the suction began, softly at first, then harder as I relaxed slightly. I moaned and came, whispering his name automatically, body shaking uncontrollably. Good God, whatever had just happened, it was amazing. Who knew fantasies could be so real?

I tensed slightly. Fantasies were just that, fantasies. They never felt so real. It was then that I noticed something was above me, the slightest bit of weight resting on my legs. I opened my eyes immediately and they locked on the smiling face of my mate. His expression fell when I once again put on my mask. I tried to look indignant, but couldn't find it in me. Instead, I prepared to deliver my newest deterrent. "What are you doing here?" I drawled, not quite having the effect I wanted when it came out completely breathless. "Why did you do that?"

He smiled sadly at my response, but it brightened slightly as he answered. "You are my mate. What do you expect me to do?"

I felt my face flush with heat at the implication and glared at him. "I told you. I'm not ready."

He smirked. "Oh, but you are." I stared at him. How could he say that? What happened to leaving me be for a while? He went on, almost purring. "You called for me."

I frowned, brows furrowing. "No, I didn't." I had done everything possible to stay away from him, and I had never sent him a note of any kind. He had finally lost his mind. I expected him to leave, finally getting the message that I wanted him gone, but, he surprised me again.

"But you did. You see, when a vampire's mate is ready to be claimed," my exhausted cock twitched as my fantasy flooded my mind again, "their blood sings to their lover, and how could I refuse such a call?"

I fumbled for words, completely dumbfounded. "I – But…" That had never been mentioned in any book I had read. My stomach clenched at the thought. I had to get him to leave. I wanted this, I really did, but he was pushing. He didn't mean it. All he wanted was some cheap sex.

"You have nothing to fear, Dragon," he breathed in my ear. I shivered. He even had a pet name for me already. "I can never harm you." I tensed, looking over at the fire. The emotion in his voice was intoxicating, suffocating. I wanted him to mean it. God knows I did. "What are you afraid of?" He asked quietly, voice becoming slightly unsure the next second. "Do you not want to be my mate?" I didn't answer. I wanted to scream, yes, yes! But I didn't. I simply laid beneath him. He sighed and sat up slowly, straddling me, when something in me snapped.

My hand shot out and I looped a finger in one of his belt loops. He looked down at me as I watched him, searching, pleading him not to go, worrying my lip as always when I was uncertain. "Don't go," I breathed, hardly daring to believe I was preparing myself to give in. "God, please, don't go. You have no idea how much I want this." He gave a sudden gasp. "I just want to know that…" I trailed off, not wanting to continue. I willed him to understand without making me say it, but he just stared at me. I knew that it was against everything I stood for, everything I was, but he had to understand. I swallowed what pride I still possessed and murmured, "That you'll…be there." I paused, trying to collect my thoughts but failing. "I have no idea what I'm doing. I don't want you to decide you want someone else-"

His mouth captured mine, quickly turning my mind to a jumbled mess incapable of anything but responding. He pulled away and reprimanded me gently, his breath hitting my open lips. "Never say that again. I have one mate for life, and one mate only." My heart skipped a beat. Hearing it from him was so much better than seeing it on a printed page. "It is up to you to accept it. I have no right to force myself on you and I have no intention of doing so. I want you to be happy." My heart fluttered again and I had to force myself to listen as he went on. "I couldn't live with myself if you were the slightest bit upset."

Upset? What did he call this? I was nearly frantic. My mind was too jumbled to think. Slowly, I pulled myself together as I stared up at him. He was waiting patiently, poised over me, eyes searching mine for something. The lost, hungry look in his eyes made something in me give and I breathed, "Drink," so quietly that at first I thought he hadn't heard.

He stilled above me, even his breathing ceasing for a moment. "What?" He asked, as though I had lost my mind.

"Drink, please," I pleaded. I had made up my mind. I could only fight myself for so long. I wanted him, and he had done all he could to prove he loved me. I couldn't ask for more, not yet. Who was I to deny him what he needed, wanted?

I tilted my head back into the pillows, tempting him. He seemed to be unsure that I had given in of my own free will. But just when I thought he would pull away he lowered himself down, pressing his body against every inch of mine. We moaned. This was what we had both yearned for. We were ready, world be damned.

He nuzzled my neck, planting kisses along it. I knew he was trying to get me to relax, because as much as I knew I wanted this, my mind still harbored fear, fear that this would hurt, and I had to feed him for the rest of his life. His tongue swept over my pulse point and I gasped, hands immediately latching onto his back. Why was he teasing me? Couldn't he just get it over with? His fangs grazed my neck and I shivered, my hips lifting to brush lightly against his. He growled, sending tremors straight to my cock. I whimpered but fought the urge to move when he growled again.

All too soon, his fangs were against my skin, slowly breaking it. I tensed in anticipation, but instead of pain, warmth shot through my body and I moaned. All fear of feeding flew from my mind. It felt wonderful, euphoric. He echoed my moan, but I was too far gone to notice. I was focusing on keeping myself still. It wasn't working. I let out another wanton moan and felt him smile against my skin. That git. He knew what this was doing to me. Suddenly, his hips were pressing down lightly. He rocked slowly, twisting in a circle. I gasped at the feeling and couldn't help but arch into him. He continued with the motion, distracting me so completely from his feeding that it took me a moment to realize he had released my neck and licked the wound closed.

The rhythm of his hips changed, his leg pushing down hard on my erection, making me gasp. He took the opening and kissed me, tongue driving into my mouth. I moaned again and threaded my fingers through his soft raven hair, pulling him closer. Our tongues battled for a moment, stroking and exploring, the taste of my blood still present. Suddenly, his attack lessen and I took over. I took his bottom lip between my teeth and nipped it gently, releasing it in favor of swirling my tongue gently around his fangs. A moan rose from deep in his chest.

I pulled his head back and simply looked at him, my mind hardly daring to believe he was really there even though I could feel his weight on my chest. My lips were still tingling from his bruising kisses. He watched me through half-lidded eyes and I smiled at him.

I trailed my hands down his spine, loving the feel of his skin. He shivered, eyes staying locked on mine. My fingers hit the rough fabric of his jeans and they traced it around to the zipper. I watched him for any sign of discomfort as I pushed them down his body, his boxers going with them. I let my eyes drop down to his cock and stared. He was thick, thicker than I had ever imagined. Could I even accommodate him? I tore my eyes away and looked back up, my face heating.

He smiled, almost smugly, and whispered, "Like what you see?"

I swallowed to relieve some tension, but it did little good. I nodded and fought to keep my breathing even, "Yes."

He smirked. "Good."

There was silence for a moment, then I sat up slowly, taking him with me, easily reversing our positions. He smiled encouragingly. Could he tell this was my first time? I realized with a jolt that it was his as well. "Do whatever you want, Dragon." Heat overtook my face again at the pet name and I nodded, tentatively running my hands over his chest. He gasped when they brushed his nipples.

I smirked and repeated the motion. He growled, sending vibrations up my arms. I leaned down and took one bud into my mouth. My hand trailed down his body and latched onto his cock, fisting him slowly. "Oh, Merlin," he moaned, throwing his head back.

I continued, changing my grip and twisting slightly, knowing that vampires were extremely sensitive to any ministrations from their mate. Another partner would never satisfy. "Dragon…stop, or I'll-" But I didn't listen. My nail slid across his slit and he came, warm droplets of cum coating my hand and his chest. I gave his chest one last lick and looked up. His breathing was heavy, his face flushed.

I kept my eyes on him, but brought my cum-coated hand to my mouth and licked my fingers clean, savoring the taste as it ran down my throat. He growled again and drew me up for a fierce kiss. I smirked, happy that I could drive him wild.

He flipped us over expertly and kissed my jaw. I hummed contentedly. He kissed his way down my chest, taking time to pay attention to sensitive areas. Something wet stroked my entrance. "Oh, God," I gasped, shaking in anticipation once again. Fear was beginning to cloud my mind again. What if it hurt?

"Shh…I'll take it slow," he murmured, nuzzling my neck as he continued stroking me. I relaxed slowly, subconsciously knowing I could trust him. The pressure from his finger increased as it breached the muscle. I hissed in pain and gripped his hips, eyes shut tight. He placed kisses along my jaw to divert my attention as he slowly pumped his finger, the burn quickly subsiding into a dull ache. Another finger joined the first and I moaned, giving his ear a quick nip.

I pushed against his fingers wantonly, begging for more. He crooked them slightly, brushing my prostate, making me cry out in pleasure, my body shaking at the stimulation. "Please," I murmured, fighting back a whimper as a third finger slid up beside the others. "Please, take me."

"I don't want to hurt you," he panted, fingers slowing but still pumping hard.

"Please!" I screamed as he found my prostrate again.

He moaned and his fingers disappeared. I whimpered at the loss, desperate to feel them in me again. But before I could voice my disappointment his cock slipped into me. I cried out at the unadulterated pleasure, laced so deliciously with the burn of his intrusion. He was going slow, trying not to hurt me, but I would have none of that. I had foolishly withheld myself for months. Now was not the time to take it slow. There would be time for that later.

My hands found his hips and I pulled him to me. He was engulfed to the hilt. He groaned, eyes closing briefly. I smiled, basking in the pain and pleasure. For a moment he didn't move save for the gentle rise and fall of his chest. I fought back a growl and rolled my hips experimentally, biting my lip to stop another moan. I may have been a virgin, but I knew what I wanted. He seemed to get the message because he pulled out the next second and thrust forward viciously, making us both moan. I wrapped my legs around him, pulling him to me.

He quickly set a rhythm and I slumped beneath him, unable to do more than thrash and moan inarticulately. All I knew was that I wanted him to keep pumping into me, stroking my walls with his hard cock. I knew what I had been missing now.

He shifted slightly and drove into me again. I arched away from the bed, feeling my throat protest as I howled loudly into the night. I couldn't bring myself to open my eyes but I could feel his smirk. He thrust again and I felt my body buck frantically, trying to capture that feeling again. And he didn't disappoint me. With each harsh thrust, he struck my prostrate, making white-hot fire shoot through my body. The sensation made me whimper, my nails digging into his hips. I didn't have time to be smug about the bruises they would leave. I felt heat coiling in my abdomen, and I waited impatiently for the pressure to release, but it refused. It settled, hard and pulsing, beneath my skin. I couldn't take it anymore.

I looked up at him. He was panting, eyes shut as he concentrated on the movement of his hips. I moaned at a particularly hard thrust and his eyes flew to mine. I panted loudly, trying to get the words out, barely succeeding. "Please…" I begged. I needed release. "Baby, please."

His eyes flashed, mouth curving softly, and he nodded, blinking rapidly as sweat trickled from his forehead into his eyes. He reached between own bodies and his hand closed around my erection. He jerked his hand swiftly, just twice. And then I was coming, my body convulsing beneath him as my cum coated us, his name a prayer on my lips. He groaned and his load, slick and hot, filled me, drawing another low moan from my exhausted frame.

He collapsed on top of me, unable to keep himself up after his exertion. I let him lay on my chest, content to let my body come down from its high before I moved again. Tentatively, I reached up and carded my fingers through his hair. He looked up and I knew I was smiling. I probably looked a right mess, hair completely mussed, eyes barely open. "Thanks," I murmured, surprising myself with the sentiment. I didn't want this to end. Never.

He smiled back and shook his head. He kissed me softly and I responded lazily, loving the feel of his lips once again, but unable to react at that point in time. He chuckled and sat up. I frowned, wondering if he was leaving as I felt him slip from my body. He must have sensed my apprehension because he laid down beside me and pulled me to his chest. I tensed. If he was going to leave, this was not how I wanted it. If he wanted to leave, I wanted him gone now.

But my body was already betraying me. I laid my head on his chest and my heartbeat slowed down once again. I snaked my arms around his waist and sighed. This was what I wanted, I realized. I loved him, and I wanted him all to myself.