Let Me Feel You
Hermione’s head fell back against the tiled shower wall with a thud, but the impact barely registered as she clenched her thighs tighter around Theo’s hips, digging her nails into his shoulders.
His fingers gripped the flesh of her arse harder and she keened, arching into him as he thrust deeper inside of her, one hand tangled in the hair at the side of her head while he devoured her neck as if he were starving for the taste of her. He tightened his hold, wrenching her head to the side and she moaned, far too loudly.
Theo cursed under his breath and crashed his lips to hers, swallowing her cries of pleasure and pain, and she rocked her hips, desperately seeking more, more, more.
Fuck, she would never get enough of him.
“Shhhh,” he cooed mockingly, nipping at her lip as he pulled away and jerked her head back, forcing her to meet his eyes. “Be quiet, little sister. You don’t want Mummy and Daddy to hear how much you love getting fucked by your brother, do you?”
“Step brother,” Hermione corrected, purposely digging her nails into his skin harder. Theo hissed in pain, then closed his eyes and took a breath before he looked back down at her. He slowed his thrusts, teasing her with soft little circles of his hips, and she let out a cry of discontent.
“You’re gonna pay for that,” Theo taunted as his right hand released her hip to reach between them. He found her clit in an instant and began stroking his fingers in the exact way he knew drove her mad. Pulling back until just the very tip of his cock remained inside of her, he remained still, allowing her a brief moment of reprieve before he slammed back in, eliciting a groan from deep within Hermione’s chest.
“Fucking hell, tesoro, you’re going to get us caught,” He rolled his eyes, releasing his hold on her hair to stick his hand out of the shower curtain–to summon his wand and cast a silencing charm, she deduced, but before he could act, there was a knock on the door.
“Shit,” Hermione whispered under her breath. Theo opened his mouth–whether to respond, or just to scare her shitless, she couldn’t tell, but rather than risk finding out, she clamped a hand over his mouth and narrowed her eyes in a silent warning.
“Hermione, are you still in the shower?” Francesca, Theo’s mum called out.
“Yeah, Frankie,” Hermione yelled back, “Sorry, all this hair takes forever. I’ll be right out.”
“Ooo-kay,” Frankie sang, in her typical cheery voice. How that woman could manage to be so godsdamn peppy was beyond Hermione’s scope of understanding. It was nearly infuriating–though, she had to remind herself, not everyone was hardened by a brewing war before they’d even outgrown their training bras.
“Oh, Hermione? Have you seen Theodore?” Frankie called out, almost as an afterthought. Hermione’s eyes went wide with panic. Theo–the cheeky bastard–smirked around her hand and licked her palm.
“No,” she responded. Theo moved, slamming back into her so hard that she had to bite her lip to keep from screaming.
“Okay, well, when you’re done, and once we find wherever your step-brother has run off to this time, your father and I would like to talk to the both of you. We’ll be in the kitchen.” Frankie’s voice faded as she spoke, indicating she was walking away, but Hermione kept her hand over Theo’s mouth to be on the safe side.
He raised an eyebrow at her as he began to move again, and she cursed, dropping her hand to grip his forearm.
“Fucking hell, Theo, you’re going to get us caught,” she scolded.
“Good,” Theo rasped, “maybe I want to get caught. Maybe I want everybody to know how good you slut this little cunt out for your big brother’s cock.”
“Gods, you’re so vulgar,” Hermione’s cheeks burned. She hated when he talked like this. Her body, on the other hand, seemed to share a wholly different opinion on the matter, and she could feel herself tightening around him with every long, deep stroke.
“You love it,” he teased, “admit it, Granger. Or don’t. The way this cunt weeps all over my cock every time I call you little sister speaks–”
“Stop,” Hermione whimpered as she grinded against him, rocking her hips faster.
“Oh, tesero,” Theo groaned, “you know I love it when you pretend you don’t want this.”
“You know I want this, I just wish you’d shut up, I can’t–oh, gods, Theo, don’t stop.”
“There you go. Be a good sister and squirt all over my cock, baby. I’ll fill you up so good.” He pulled back and placed his hand on her cheek, using his thumb to drag her lip out from between her teeth. “You want it so bad, don’t you?”
“Uh-huh.” Hermione whined. She let her head fall back against the shower–softer, this time, as she already knew she’d need a headache potion after her earlier, too-harsh movements. “I do, I really do, Theo, please just cum inside of me.”
“Fuck, Granger. Hermione.” Theo shook his head and leaned in, tucking his face into her neck. He wrapped his arms around her waist, clinging to her, and Hermione latched onto him in return.
They never talked about it.
About what they’d do when they went back to school. About why, every time they’d had sex, for the better part of theee months, it started out rough and degrading, only to turn tender as soon as they both realized it was almost over
It often felt as if they were racing against some invisible clock, trying to beat a deadline neither of them could yet determine.
Fleeting.
That was the word. Everything, with him, was so godsdamn fleeting.
But as he pressed his lips to her neck, rasping out a whispered plea of, “Please, baby, let me feel you,” as his words sent her soaring to the highest peak and then crashing back down, as he came inside of her with a harsh grunt while her cunt fluttered around his thick cock, she couldn’t bring herself to care.
She’d lose him. He wasn’t even hers to keep, really, and she should absolutely not be begging her Step-Brother to cum inside of her–even if the contraceptive potion was undeniably foolproof–but in these so-very-fleeting little moments, where the world melted away and she could pretend they weren’t doomed straight from the start they’d never even get to have, she could pretend.
And so, pretend, she did.
She cupped his face in her hands and tried to pour every bit of longing she felt for the permanence they’d never share into his mouth, kissing him with a passionate intensity, hellbent on matching the fire in his eyes.
When they finally broke apart, spent and breathless, he stroked his thumbs over her cheekbones and pressed his lips to her forehead, drawing in a deep breath, and she braced herself for what she knew would come.
It was like clockwork.
Theo breathed her in, then shut down instantly, slapping her on the arse as he pulled out and turned to exit the shower. He reached a hand out to the vanity to grab his wand, then cast a drying charm over himself as he smirked at her.
“Better clean that little mess up, baby sister. Unless you want Mummy and Daddy to see me dripping down your leg in those slutty little shorts you wear?” He taunted, pointing his wand toward where his cum was currently trailing down her thigh.
She glared in response, fighting the urge to scream at him, and he stuck his tongue out at her–the fucking brat–before he tapped his wand to the top of his head and disillusioned himself.
Once he’d left her alone–finally, gods, it was like she could never get rid of him fast enough once they were done and he flipped the arsehole switch back to ‘on’–she rewashed herself, then dressed, not bothering with a hair drying charm as she made her way down to the kitchen to have whatever family bonding time conversation their parents were about to force them in to.
Ugh. She much preferred the mandatory game nights and day trips to the fucking family meetings.
____________________________________________________________
“Right, well, if I’d have known we were all just going to sit here and stare at one another, I’d have done something with my hair, tried to look a little prettier,” Theo rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest as he sat back in his chair, slumping down like a petulant child. Hermione cursed the ‘no hexing one another’ rule Frankie had enforced back in mid-May, when they’d all moved in together and began this stupid facade of a normal family.
“Theodore,” Frankie shook her head, then looked over to Hermione’s father and sighed. “You’re right, Theo. We should just…get on with it, yeah, David?”
“Right,” David nodded. Hermione sat up a little straighter at the sight of the tension etched across her dad’s face. She hadn’t seen him look this distraught since the summer after her third year, when she’d returned home from school to find out her mother had left them, running off to Australia with some guy named Pablo, whom she met at spin class.
Something was wrong. Hermione could tell that whatever her dad was about to say was going to change…something. What, she wasn’t sure. But the feeling was there, all the same.
“Right,” David repeated. “Well, as you both know, when the war began and Theodore convinced Francesca to move back to London, we…reconnected.”
“Pretty sure we had the ‘hi, kids, did you have a fun time at your warzone of a school, by the way, we’re married’ talk already, there, Dave-O.” Theo snarked.
“Theo.” Hermione hissed. He looked over at her, his eyes darkening, and she quickly tore her gaze away before he could make some lewd gesture toward her, focusing her attention back on her father. “Go on, Dad. We are both listening.”
“Well, erm, when Frankie and I both attended Cambridge–we were close. Then we parted ways, and well, long story short, here we are.” David stumbled over the words, and Hermione felt the tension in the room growing thicker by the second.
She knew the story well by now. Her father had been attending the school for his under-graduate degree, prior to studying dentistry. Theo’s mother was taking courses at the magical part of the university most didn’t know existed. They’d met at a coffee shop, had a few casual dates, then never saw one another again. Until, that is, the war happened, and Francesca moved into Hampstead Gardens with a friend from university, who just so happened to have bought the house across the street from where Hermione grew up.
Very cutesy, yes, how wonderful for you, now can we please get on with it so I can go finish packing my trunk?
“A love story for the ages. Thank you, David, for regaling us with that lovely tale. Can we be dismissed now?” Theo held his hand out, studying his nails to be sure to drive the point of his boredom home. Honestly, Hermione could hardly blame him, but the idiot could at least pretend to care.
“Theo, I really need you to stop being a prat and listen,” Frankie rolled her eyes, “This is important.”
“Yes, mother dearest,” Theo replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Frankie glared at him for a moment, then sighed.
“What David is trying to say is that we weren’t exactly honest with you about our time together at Cambridge. We’ve told you we were friends, and that was true, at first. But we eventually became…more. Before I left, to fulfill my betrothal contract, we’d been, um…” She sighed and looked up at the ceiling, searching for the words, and Hermione felt a strange sense of dread begin to form deep within her stomach.
“Intimate,” David finished for her. “From the spring of 1977 to the fall of 1978, we were…”
“Fucking?” Theo asked.
“You… you cheated on mum?” Hermione gasped.
“Yes. No. I mean… Jesus Christ, this is hard.” David took off his glass and rubbed at the bridge of his nose–a far-too familiar sign.
Shit, this is bad.
“No, I never cheated on your mother. Francesca and I were never official, and she left in August of 1978. Helen and I didn’t actually start dating until November.”
Hermione gave a slow nod. That did track, she thought. She knew the story of how her parents got together–skirting around one another, slagging it up with other people until they finally decided to make a real go of things, only for Monica to end up pregnant with Hermione a month later.
“Okay.” Hermione nodded. “Well, then, I don’t think… I appreciate your honesty. It's a comfort to know the whole story, but I don’t understand why you were so anxious to tell us, I rather think it’s–”
“Shut up, Granger.” Theo spat. Hermione whipped her head back to the front, ready to fire back at him, but his gaze was fixed on his mother, who was staring down at the table with a guilty expression etched across her face.
“Mum,” Theo said. When Frankie didn’t respond, he banged his fist on the table, causing the other three to jolt in surprise. “Mum! Fucking look at me.”
“I’m sorry, Theo. I’m so, so sorry. I wanted to tell you for so long, I–I couldn’t, I took a vow, I’m–” Frankie choked on a sob, and David reached over, patting her back reassuringly.
“I didn’t know, myself, until we reconnected. I can’t say I was happy about not being–I swear Theo, if I had known–” David sighed, “But your mother had her reasons. We have to respect that.”
“Bloody hell I have to respect her reasons,” Theo shoved his chair back from the table and stood in a rush. “How could you?”
“How could she what? Will someone please tell me what the hell we’re fighting about?” Hermione called out.
“Really, Granger? Brightest Witch of her Age and you can’t manage simple muggle math?” Theo laughed harshly, a grating, nearly painful sound, and Hermione’s cheeks burned. “Let me spell it out for you. Our parents fucked until August of ‘78. I was born in April of ‘79.”
No.
“I–I don’t,” Hermione stammered out, shaking her head.
No, no no.
“Hermione,” Frankie’s voice cracked and Hermione looked up to meet her eyes, still shaking her head.
Please, no.
“No. Don’t say it, please don’t say it.”
“I’m so sorry, ladybug. I’m sorry to both of you,” Her father whispered, throwing out her childhood nickname as if it were going to cure the major fucking problem at hand. “But Theo is right. He is, biologically, my son.”
“He’s…no. Nope,” Hermione shook her head again. “You’re lying. That would mean… no.”
“It’s true, Hermione. You and Theo are half-siblings.” Frankie whispered.