The Last Chance Of Tom Riddle

Tom was awakened by a restless jolt from within. His gaze darted across the ceiling and the walls. The room was quiet and bright enough. It seemed to be late morning. He exhaled, relaxing his body. He turned on his side. Aola was asleep, curled into a ball. He listened to her breathing and stood up. He walked to the window. Outside, it was drizzling. He looked into the corridor — it was empty. A rustle behind his back made him turn around — milady was awake. Pale as chalk, but without that feverish glitter in her eyes. “Good morning, Tommy,” she greeted him affectionately. “I hope, my peri. Where are you going? If you need something, I will bring it.” She smiled faintly: “To the place where even kings must go on their own two feet.” “Pardon,” he replied. “How are you feeling?” “Much better, thank you.” She disappeared behind the bathroom door, and Tom returned to the bed. He needed to order breakfast. If Aola really felt better, perhaps they would leave the island today. “Tommy, could you help me?” she called out. The naked Duchess was looking puzzled at a shower. “The tap is right here. But how do you turn it on?” “The light turns on and off with a clap. Maybe the water does too?” The lad clapped his hands — once, twice. No result. Damned Muggles! “Maybe this thing reacts to movement?” Aola stepped inside and held her palm near the nozzle. Water immediately sprayed out and streamed down her arm, flowing over her body. Tom should have stepped out. but he couldnt tear his eyes away. “God, that feels good,” she purred. “I feel like I reek of Azkaban through and through.” She reached for the gel and began to soap her body. She glanced at Riddle. “Tommy, either join me or go. Dont embarrass me.” He didnt answer; he simply began to undress. He stepped under the shower. Aola took his hand, poured some gel into his palm, and turned her back to him. Soaping her skin, Tom could hardly contain his shaking. He wanted her, only her. The girl turned to him and looked into his eyes. Her cheeks finally turned pink. Her palms, full of foam, slid over his chest. shivers ran down his spine. It was a nearly forgotten sensation of tenderness. If he kissed her, would she want it, or would he receive another slap? But her hand had already reached the bottom of his belly. Her fingers squeezed lightly. “Aola.” he exhaled. Tom pulled her to him, reaching for her lips. A sweet jolt of electricity flowed through his veins, and she responded, biting his lip. Tom ran his fingers through her curls. She groaned through the kiss. The blood beat in his temples. Without breaking the kiss, Tom reached for a towel. He hurriedly dried his beloved and scooped her up in his arms. A few steps to the bed. Faster, faster. Lowering Aola to the edge, Tom pushed her onto her back. He caressed her with his lips and his tongue. The Duchess groaned aloud, arching her back. I am yours, he thought. Tom caressed her, enjoying how her body responded to every touch. Reason finally fell. He rose, looking into her eyes. She whispered hotly: “Take me.” A hot wave pierced his entire being. Tom entered slowly, all the way, pulling a long groan from her chest. How narrow she was, hot and yielding. Faster. Faster. Faster! She writhed under him, biting her lips, growling with passion like a cat. Hot lava pulsed in his belly. The entire Universe concentrated in her alone. He strove there again and again, until she grew still and broke into an orgasm, scratching his back. And he was taken too, immediately after, by a hot wave of sweet convulsions. He sighed with relief and pressed against her lips. Aola purred something tender. “I love… you…” he whispered hoarsely. Suddenly it became chilly. Tom rolled onto his back, pulling her to him and wrapping her in the blanket. She pressed against his chest. Tom felt infinitely happy. Nirvana. Aola soon fell asleep. Tom also dozed off. A delicate knock at the door woke him. He stood up and put on his jeans. “Who is there?” he asked. “Housekeeping, sir,” a female voice responded. Tom opened the door slightly. A maid looked at him and smiled. “The lady is ill and resting,” he replied. “Clean up later.” “As you wish, sir.” Tom slammed the door. He wanted to get back to bed. “Who was it?” Aola asked. She had woken up. “The maid,” he reassured her. He touched her cheek. The scratch was still there. He recited a spell and ran his finger along the wound. The skin lightened and the mark began to fade. “That tickles,” she purred. “Everything is fine,” he replied. Aola kissed him on the nose and went to the bathroom. Tom felt hungry. Another knock interrupted him. “Who is it now,” he grumbled. He touched the handle. Only his experience allowed him to deflect a spell and slam the door. The floor burst, and thick magical shoots began to block the entrance. “Milady!” She ran out of the bathroom in a towel. The door creaked under blows from outside. Tom threw a Shield Charm. “No! We are leaving!” the girl grabbed his hand, but the Apparition field bounced back. They were surrounded. The door shattered into splinters. He rushed to the window. Below stood several Aurors. Tom recoiled. “Forgive me, but there is no choice.” He cast a spell at his beloved, and she turned into a small stone. A second later, a thick black snake fell onto the carpet. It snatched the stone in its jaws and darted into the bathroom. The snake slid into the toilet and disappeared.