A Marriage Most Convenient

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Chapter 49: Making Love, Being in Love

There are people who the more you do for them, the less they will do for themselves.” – Jane Austen

I would do anything for her if she would only let me. Does that make me a lovesick fool or a hopeless romantic?” – James Potter

He’s always done everything for me, and I would do anything for him. The fact is, it only makes me love him more.” – Alice Malfoy, (now Potter)


Sitting side by side on a bed in a strange room, James picked Alice’s hand off her lap, played with her fingers, then picked it up and kissed her open palm. “Well, sweet Alice, was your wedding everything you’ve ever wanted?”

“No,” she answered softly. He was surprised by that answer, and so he turned to look expectantly into her eyes. She was looking toward the floor.

“What could I have done to make it better?” he asked, truly wanting to know.

She expelled a small laugh, looked over at her ‘husband’ and said, “To denote my wedding to you as everything I’ve ever wanted, while it was indeed a wonderful, beautiful ceremony, would be a gross overstatement, and an exaggeration to the millionth degree. You, James, you are all I’ve ever wanted. A family of my own.”

He tried not to grin, but a grin came anyway, so he looked down at the floor, where just moments ago her stare was headed, and said, “That’s rather nice.”

They remained side by side, without words, for a few more moments, before he finally stood up. He let go of her hand, cleared his throat, sighed aloud, stretched, and then looked around the mostly dark bedroom. “It was nice of your father to let us use this chalet for our honeymoon.”

“It’s a tradition for Malfoys to come here for their honeymoons,” she said, standing also, and ambling aimlessly around the large bedroom. She removed her jacket and placed it across their luggage, which was hastily packed before they left and placed by the bedroom door when they arrived.

He removed his overcoat and placed it across hers and then leaned down to the fireplace. He opened the glass doors, peered inside, and was about to take out his wand to light it when she walked over, pushed a small button, and flames erupted over the logs in the hearth.

He looked up with questioning eyes and he said, “Magic?”

“Electric,” she revised. He stood up and they both laughed. He placed his hands on her shoulders, rubbed them up and down, and pulled her into him for another kiss.

“How strange is all of this, Alice?” he said, holding her in his arms, against his chest, and rubbing one hand up and down her back. “We went from friends, to being in love, to marriage, and now lovers, all in the spans of one day, really, a few hours.”

Her head rested on his chest, arms around his waist, her attention going to the steady feel of his breathing, and the rumbling of his voice as he spoke. She agreed, “It is strange. I never thought when I woke up this morning that I’d end up your wife, although it’s a nice birthday present.”

He pushed her from him slightly and said, “Hey, now I’ll always remember our anniversary, because it’s your birthday, too. And I can always get away with giving you only one present!”

“Ha, ha, ha,” she laboured, slapping his chest lightly. She stepped away from him and said, “I’m going to the bathroom to get ready.”


“For bed,” she clarified.

“Oh, right, ready,” he said, reaching up to remove his tie.

“So…I’ll go in there,” she said, pointing toward the bathroom.

“And I’ll stay out here,” he said, motioning toward the room.

“Or you could go to the other bathroom,” she offered.

“To get ready?” he quizzed.

“To get ready,” she repeated.

“Then what?” He really wanted to know.

“Then we’ll meet over there,” she laughed, pointing toward the bed.

“Sounds like a solid plan,” he laughed in return.

James found another bathroom, showered and shaved quickly, dressed in a silk robe he borrowed from his dad, and when she still wasn’t finished in the bathroom, he sat down to wait for her. He was waiting for her on the edge of the bed, pulling at the sash of the robe, when she finally came out of the bathroom. She looked lovelier than he had ever seen her, and his breath caught in his throat.

“You’re very beautiful,” he said quietly, while standing.

She looked down at her white silk nightgown and said, “My grandmother’s doing. When she goes back in time, she doesn’t forget a thing.”

When she looked back up, he was literally right in front of her, and she even gasped and took a step back. He reached for her and said, “While it’s a pretty gown, I was referring to you, Alice.”

“Thank you,” she answered plainly.

“Are you nervous?” he asked. His right hand was rubbing her left arm up and down, up and down, his fingertips soft on her skin.

“More like anxious,” she decided. “You?”

“Nervous as hell,” he replied. They both laughed. “I want this to be good, and right, and wonderful.”

“It will be, because it’s us, together, the way things are supposed to be,” Alice told him.

“You’ve always been like this, so sure of yourself, so plain spoken,” he commented. “I’m glad.”

Without waiting for her to respond, he pulled her to him again, closer, and closer, until his mouth touched lightly upon hers. She was so soft, and sweet, and he could taste her toothpaste, and smell her shampoo. She made a soft cooing sound, which turned him on more than he thought possible. Her mouth was moist and warm, and her skin slightly flushed by the time he pulled away. Once away from her, he looked down at her breasts, which moments before he felt pressing against his chest. What would she do if he touched them?

He reached up and cupped the underside of her left breast with his right hand, testing the weight and feel with his hand, on the outside of her gown. She closed her eyes and moaned. He recognized the sounds of passion, even if he had never heard them from her before. He rubbed his thumb lightly back and forth over the center, feeling her nipple harden under his touch.

She reached up and grasped his biceps with her hands. She opened her eyes and bit her bottom lip. “Kiss me, James,” she requested.

It was a simple request, and one he would honour. He leaned over her, breast still in hand, and placed his mouth once more to hers. The muscles of his abdomen tightened when her hands came up around his neck, her lower stomach pressing against his aching need.

She pressed her mouth harder against his and opened her mouth and their tongues danced around each other. His hands moved the straps of her gown off her shoulders and he felt the gown fall from her neck, and pool at her waist.

He stopped kissing her and watched in amazement as the gown fell the rest of the way, cascading past her waist, her hips, her legs, to the floor. He watched as she stepped out of it. She was completely nude. She didn’t have anything else on, and he thought she was marvelous.

“Seems like a waste if I was only going to have it on for a minute,” she murmured, her hands going up to cover her breasts.

He stopped her hands by grabbing her wrists. “You’re more beautiful than I ever imagined, and believe me, I imagined it a lot.”

She smiled. This felt right. She wasn’t embarrassed or ashamed or afraid to be standing in front of James totally naked. “You know,” she said, her hands wrenching from his, so that she could sculpt his chest, moving her hands up and down over his robe, “you saw me naked before. We used to swim together, and one time I recall I took off my little top, because you didn’t have a top on so I didn’t want to wear a top.”

He groaned, the feel of her hands were heavenly, then he said, “Yes, and then I took off my bottoms, to show you that I had something that you didn’t, and you took off your bottoms to compare yourself with me, and then you ran along the beach and told your mum that it wasn’t fair that I had a penis and you didn’t.” The knuckle side of his hand went up and down the outside of her breast as he spoke.

“I think it’s fair now,” she laughed. She moved his robe off his shoulders, and watched with interest as it too floated to the floor by their feet. He had on boxers. “Why are you wearing boxers?”

“I’m a proper young man,” he joked.

“Blimey, what a load of horse shite.” Alice laughed. She placed her hands flat against his chest and moved her thumbs on his nipples. She moved forward and kissed the center of his chest. He reached down to his hips and removed his shorts.

She was afraid to look, so she stared at his face, in his eyes. “I love you,” she said, because it begged to be said.

“Oh, Alice,” he responded. “I can’t even tell you how much I love you.”

He moved closer and wrapped her in his arms as he placed a row of kisses across her cheek, down her neck, to her collarbone. He placed a hand on her breast again and pinched her nipple, experimentally, to see what she might like. Her nipple became tight under his hand, and he marveled that he could elicit so much excitement from her that he pressed a kiss to the center, but she pushed him away.

“Did that hurt?”

“No, it surprised me, I’m sorry,” she said truthfully.

“You have to tell me what you like,” he requested. “I won’t know if you don’t tell me.”

“How, how would I know?” she asked, nervously.

“I mean, if I do something you don’t like, tell me to stop, and I will, and if I do something you like, well, just let me keep doing it, I suppose,” he said. He felt confused suddenly. He wished one of them knew what they were doing. He knew the mechanics of it, but this was different, and this was Alice, and damn it all, he didn’t want to do anything wrong.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, his mood evident on his face. She reached up and stroked his cheek. “It’s okay, we’ll do this together.”

“I hope so,” he laughed.

Then they both laughed, and relaxed. He cupped her cheeks again, and while still holding her face, he kissed her lips tenderly. He knew she wanted him as much as he wanted her, and for once, they wanted the same thing at the same time, so it was perfect.

He leaned over and kissed her gently on her long exposed neck again. His hands went to her hair and tangled in her soft, curly hair. Nothing in his life could measure up to the woman before him. His mouth traveled down her neck, and then back up to her lips. His hand cupped one of her breasts gently this time, while his other hand went around to cup her bum. When she didn’t complain or move away this time, or protest in any way, he moved his mouth back to her breast and kissed her lovingly; gentler than he had been the first time. The first time. This was the first time…the first time they would make love.

He moved his mouth back to hers, and she reacted by opening her mouth under his. Soon, her small shoulders and neck and breasts were covered with his kisses, and he felt her nervous fingers begin to explore his body and it felt better than words could express.

Alice leaned forward and covered one of his nipples with her mouth, and waited to see if he would push her away. She rather liked this part of lovemaking, so she thought he might like it, too. He gasped, so she took that as a good sign. Her hands clutched his broad shoulders, and one of her long graceful legs went between his, her thigh pressing on his erection. His hand went from her knee, up to her thigh, to cup her buttocks. Her skin was so soft and warm. She was so warm.

He turned to the bed, away from his bride, to push the covers all the way down, and he wondered if she was going to participate in anyway, or was she going to remain idle, merely watching and observing while he prepared the bed, not that he minded. He had to remember that this was both of their ‘first times’ so she was naturally nervous and scared, and he took an oath earlier to protect her, so if he had to do everything for her, for them, he would.

Except, after he pulled down the covers, she stepped forward and reached up for his hair, kissed him hard, and then with self-assurance that was purely inborn, she looked at his swollen penis, back up to his eyes, and then said, “Does it hurt?”

“Not really,” he said, though the real answer was, ‘hell yes’.

“It’s red and swollen,” she said. “It looks like it hurts.”

“Do we have to talk right now?” James asked, embarrassed.

“Talking things through helps move things along, instead of exacerbating things,” she announced.

He stared at her incredulously and said, “What? Alice, please, I beg of you, stop talking and saying big words like exacerbate.”

“You know, I’ve seen another man’s penis before, but it didn’t look like that.”

“Alice, can you stop being you for a moment and wait . . . when did you see another man’s penis?” he asked, shocked.

She smiled and said, “In a book, silly. A book about anatomy. I read it when I was seven.”

“Of course you did,” he said with a smile. “You probably had every bone in the body memorized by age eight.”

“Nine,” she corrected. “I had the muscles and the endocrine system memorized by ten.”

He couldn’t help it, he laughed and then he said, “I think your excessive talking is helping the redness and swelling go away.” He looked down at his penis. “In other words, you’re ruining the mood.”

“Fine, I’ll stop talking all together and you can merely make love to me, silently,” she bemoaned.

“Oh, Alice, I’m sorry, it’s okay, continue being you.”

“I don’t even know what you mean by that,” she answered, “but I won’t let you make me angry. Now, let’s take care of your problem.” She stepped closer and moved her hands down his arms, over his chest, touching his nipples again. He whimpered. She took his engorged shaft in one hand and said, “It’s soft and hard at the same time. What a paradox.”

“I’ve changed my mind,” he said, moaning.

She continued to hold him with one hand, but she looked up at his face and said, “About what? About making love?”

“No, about you. Stop being you for one night. No discussions, no analytical thoughts, no explanations. We’ll talk afterwards, and we’ll outline everything we did wrong and right, analyze it, till your heart’s content, just right now, let’s make love quietly, with no words, only moans of pleasure.” He grimaced, because she still had him in her hand.

She was about to protest, but he kissed her again, and moved them both so that they were on the bed. Soon, his hands were roaming everywhere, mapping her body. She pushed him to his back and explored the length of his body in return, with fingers and mouth. She was amazed at how beautiful she thought he was. He had long legs, a slim waist, slim hips, wide shoulders and a broad chest. She was fascinated with everything about him, and would have told him so, but she was resolute that she would not talk again until this was over, so she kept her thoughts about his beauty to herself.

Soon, desire and passion, raw and absolute, rose from the lowest place of their souls, and each responded to it in different ways. He kissed her earnestly, with craving and need. She kissed and touched him with an explorative touch, full of awe and joy and love.

His mouth moved with his hands all along the valleys and planes of her body and soon she was no longer quiet. She was cooing, and close to sobbing, crying out for him to stop, but don’t stop, no, but yes. He was a mass of confusion, but he carried on.

They took their time, examining the other person’s bodies, with tender touches, timorous feelings expressed with kisses and bites. Nimble fingers and lips continued touching and kissing places that begged to be touched. Their mutual quest continued to seek a silent reward, which was a giving of not only their bodies, but their minds, hearts and souls. They came together with poise, as if they had done this before, even though it was the first time.

He cried out before she did, and she was still quiet, except when they reached the height of the moment…then and only then, did she finally call out his name. After making love, he placed his arms around her, and she placed her head on his chest.

“May I speak now?” she asked.

“If you must,” he said, “or better yet, I should say, if you can.”

“You did leave me a bit tongue tied,” she said softly. “James, I’m more certain than ever that this marriage was right. I know it was. You’re the man I’m meant to love for the rest of my life.”

James honestly couldn’t answer her back, because he felt a sob near the back of his throat. This was the woman he was meant to love and care for, for the rest of his life, too. She looked up at him, her chin on his chest. She could see tears in his eyes. She moved to cover them both with the blankets, and then cuddled back into his side.

“That’s fine, JP,” she murmured. “You don’t have to tell me how much you love me. You just showed me.”

He was quiet for a long time, but so was she. He listened to her steady, even breaths, which meant she was finally sleeping. He looked down at her face and said, “Sweet, Alice.” He kissed the top of her head. He repeated, “My darling, sweet, Alice. You’re mine forever.”

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