Seven
Hermione
The darkness of the flat absorbs her as they walk in, exhausted from her encounter with Ronald. Slipping out of her boots, she hangs up her coat with a sigh.
"We didn't end up eating anything."
She turns to see his face twist into concern, half hidden in shadow. He rotates back into the hall, speaking over his shoulder.
"Wait here, I'll be right back."
And then he's gone, the soft thud of his retreating footsteps on the stairs slowly fading out. She shuts the door, lighting her wand to maneuver her way to the fireplace in the den. Squatting in front of the old brick hearth, she stacks a couple of logs into the firebox before casting a quick incendio to light them. Soft amber light slowly fills the space, flickering and shifting the shadows.
I can't let him continue to starve himself.
She immediately shakes the thought from her mind with a frown. Taking the blame for that one isn't okay, she's not letting him do anything. George is an adult with a fucked-up coping mechanism, not some child refusing his vegetables. Standing, she wipes the debris from the firewood on her jeans, taking a look around the dusty, dimly-lit space.
It might help if this place didn't feel like such a tomb.
Walking into the kitchen, she lights the oil lamp hanging above the counter, flooding the flat with more soft, warm light. Her hands wind up into her hair, twisting the mass of curls into a bun that she secures with a hair tie. Opening the ice box, she immediately closes the door again. The chilling charm had long worn off, and almost all of the food is blackened, rotten, or growing a neon fungus of questionable origin. She casts a quick spell to remove the smell that lingers in the kitchen, steeling herself by dragging the bin across the floor and inhaling, holding her breath before getting to work.
George
His breathe crystalizes on the air as he makes his way back down Diagon, this time stopping into a small restaurant tucked into a side alley. The smell of warm spices fills the air as he walks in.
"George!"
Looking to the source of the voice, he offers a soft smile to an older woman in a dark red sari, trimmed in burnt sienna runes.
"Sumati, it's good to see you."
He steps forward, and the woman draws him into a gentle hug, squeezing him softly before stepping back with a frown.
"What is this? You are so skinny, George. This is what happens when you stop eating my food."
An awkward chuckle slips past his lips as he rubs the back of his neck, looking around the restaurant. The walls are a deep green, with golden silks draped around the windows and a large bronze chandelier taking up a majority of the ceiling. The space is small, with maybe four or five tables, but it feels so welcoming. He looks back at Sumati.
"Well, I'm here to fix that. I've got a very hungry girl back at the flat, think you could put together an order for me?"
Sumati grins, wiggling her eyebrows at him.
"Of course we can, what does she like?"
He pauses, pondering the question. What does she like? Wracking his brain, he can't recall what she ate at dinner during their time at Hogwarts or holidays at the Burrow. He knows she likes pumpkin ale, but does that mean she likes pumpkin anything?
You're about to move her into your house and you can't even order her dinner, you dolt.
"I don't know if she's ever had Indian food, if I'm being honest. Maybe you could just pack a few things? Definitely the samosas, garlic naan, something with chicken, the paneer with spinach..."
Trailing off, he loses himself in thought again before shaking his head, bringing him back to the conversation.
"And the chana masala. Oh, and what was that jar you gave me once, with the spicy tamarind paste? It goes over rice? Puli...puli something?"
"Pulikachal, I'll put a jar in the bag for you. I just made a batch of the mango lassi, do you want a couple of those as well?"
His head dips enthusiastically.
"Gods above, I might cry if you don't, Sumati."
Hermione
Cleaning the kitchen goes quickly once the biohazard that is the ice box has been hauled out and sterilized, a new chilling charm cast on the steel container and fresh ice added to the little tray hanging over the side. She attacks the cabinets next, clearing out anything expired or accumulating dust and organic particulates. The sound of the door opening pulls her attention as she's casting a dusting charm. George walks through the entryway and pauses, taking in the situation with his arms full of brown paper bags. She rushes over, relieving him of one of them, peeking her head inside with a curious expression.
"Where did you go? This smells amazing, George."
He hardly hears her, his focus still on the kitchen. She's clearly kept busy, the counters are clean, the cabinets open and mostly empty. He looks down at her with a puzzled expression.
"You started cleaning?"
She walks toward the kitchen, setting the bag down on the counter with a nod.
"Yeah, is that...okay?"
Her bottom lip tucks up between her teeth as she watches him walk into the space. Opening the bags, she preoccupies herself with unpacking everything. She glances up at him, taking note of his silence and tilts her head curiously.
"George?"
He seems to break out of his thoughts, walking toward her and setting down the armload of food before pulling her into a soft hug.
"Can I have a minute of just...this, before we talk?"
Hermione sinks into the embrace, breathing in the smell of snowy air, smoke, and cedar that clings to his sweater. Wrapping her hands around his waist, she murmurs into his chest.
"As long as you need."
She feels him pull her in a bit tighter, hears the rasp in his breath at he nuzzles into the top of her head. They stand there, silent in the soft glow of the lamp above the counter, until she hears him sigh into her hair.
George
I don't deserve her.
He pulls her into a tight squeeze before letting his arms drop. Reaching a hand up, he brushes a knuckle along her jawline before using it to tilt her chin up as he bends down to kiss her. Their lips meet softly at first, then with more urgency. After a moment, he pulls back, face flushed and slightly out of breath. One corner of his mouth twitches up into a lazy smile.
"You didn't have to start hauling out the kitchen, but thank you. It looks great in here, angel."
That adorable blush spreads across her cheeks, and he leans in, brushing his lips softly against hers before turning back to the food.
"There's an Indian restaurant down the street. Fred and I got close with the owners after we started the shop, and they embraced us pretty quickly. I didn't know what you'd want, so I got a bunch of stuff. My recommendation is to start with the garlic naan, and use it to scoop up some of that chickpea curry."
He gestures to a couple different dishes as he speaks, before picking up a drink and handing it to her.
"Mango lassi. It's like...yogurty and fruity and sweet. My favorite, for sure."
Keeping his hands busy, he unpacks the rest of the food, pulling down a couple plates for them from the newly cleaned cabinets. She takes one quietly, eyes lit with curiosity as she picks through the different to-go containers, building a plate for herself. Sitting on one of the stools at the counter, she looks over at him, mild concern crossing her features.
"You're eating, too, right?"
His chest tightens as he offers her a thin smile, putting some food on his plate and sitting next to her. Taking her hand, he brushes his thumb across her knuckles. He inhales slowly, and his voice is soft as he speaks.
"I'm gonna work on it, angel."
She nods and tucks into her food, moaning quietly as she dips her naan into various dishes, sauces and chutneys.
"Merlin, this is insane. I need to come with you next time."
Hermione
George is quiet as they eat. She lets the silence breathe, lost in her own thoughts until he speaks, catching her attention.
"Are you sure about all of this? About moving in? About me?"
There's a slight quiver in his voice as he talks, and she smiles softly over at him. She stands, gathering their plates and depositing them into the sink before starting to pack up the leftovers. After tossing everything into the ice box, she walks back around the counter, standing between his knees and resting her hands on his hips.
"I know a few things, George. I know that regardless of what had happened with you and me, I was going to leave Ron after the holidays were over. I know that for months I was secretly miserable, and sitting with you at your mother's kitchen table in the morning was my only solace."
She leans in, kissing him softly.
"I know that this happened so quickly that it scares both of us, but I am having neither second thoughts about us, nor about living here. Unless you'd rather I go somewhere else?"
His hands move quickly to her waist, gripping her tightly.
"I don't want you to go anywhere."
His head dips, and a quiet sigh escapes her lips as he places gentle kisses down the side of her neck. His voice is a murmur in her ear, sending shivers down her spine.
"I want to know you better, angel. Tonight, I was standing in that restaurant, and it occurred to me that I don't actually know what you like. What your non-intellectual hobbies are. The things that make those pretty cheeks flush."
The tip of his nose traces a path behind her ear, and she gently rubs circles into his hips with her thumbs, eyes closed as she mulls.
"I like muggle poetry. I like to cook, but I want to study more and my knife skills are rubbish."
Her lips twitch into a smile.
"I like your hands."
George
He could devour her right then and there, but he instead continues his slow exploration, dragging the tip of his tongue along the shell of her ear before speaking quietly.
"You like my hands, angel?"
His fingertips shift from her waist down her hips and gently palm the back of her thighs, pulling her closer into him. Leaning his head back, he looks into her eyes for a moment.
"Who's your favorite muggle poet?"
She tucks her bottom lip between her teeth as she thinks, and he fights the urge to take it between his own.
"Emily Dickinson, maybe. Or Christina Rossetti."
Her gaze drifts back up to his and his breath catches.
She has little flecks of honey in her eyes.
He slides his hands up her hips, tucking them into her back pockets. Leaning in, he kisses his way across her collarbone as he thinks of another question.
"What kind of music do you like?"
The quiet little moan above his head does not escape him as he gently nips at the skin in the hollow of her neck and shoulder, murmuring.
"Is that okay?"
Hermione
This man is going to push me over the brink of madness.
"I mostly listened to muggle music when I was young. I like a lot of the bands my dad listened to."
A shiver runs down her spine when he bites her and a soft noise slips through her lips.
"And that was definitely okay. Just maybe try not to leave marks? At least not where anyone can see them."
The hands tucked into her back pockets squeeze her ass in response to her answer. She chuckles quietly, sliding her hands up his stomach, under the hem of his shirt and rubbing her thumbs gently into his sides.
"Is that okay?"
His response is a soft groan as he nods into her neck, rewarding her with more soft kisses.
"More than okay, that feels great."
She closes her eyes, focusing on the feeling of his lips against her skin. George moves his hands out of her pockets, leisurely tracing his fingertips around her hips. With a slow exhale, she tilts back and glances up at him, tucking her bottom lip back between her teeth as she studies his face. The reflection from the crackling fire flickers across his hazel irises, punctuated as he frowns slightly.
George
Gods above, this woman and that lip.
One of his hands shifts to the side of her face, his middle and ring fingers lightly massaging her pulse point while his thumb traces across her lower lip, tugging gently to release it from between her teeth. His thumb moves along the swollen pink skin thoughtfully.
"My hands, huh?"
She nods quietly, gazing up at him. He gently tugs at her lower lip again with his thumb.
"Can you open your mouth for me, angel?"
The way her jaw immediately drops makes him throb. Gently pushing the tip of his thumb between her lips, he bites back a groan as she closes her mouth around it and sucks softly. Her cheeks redden at her own boldness, but her eyes stay locked onto his. One corner of his mouth lifts into a smirk.
"Do you enjoy this?"
His entire body warms at the look she gives him as she nods. He slowly pulls his thumb out of her mouth with a quiet pop, then traces his hand down her arm and laces his fingers between hers. With his other hand still gently holding her by the hip, he guides her back out from between his knees so he can stand.
I need a breather.
Walking out of the kitchen, he veers into the den, letting go of her hand so he can toss another log onto the fire. He sinks into the couch, pulling her down with him so that she settles between his legs, her back to his chest. Nuzzling into the top of her head, he murmurs quietly.
"What do you think about when you're alone?"
Hermione
She's thankful they're facing the same direction, so he can't see the ungodly shade of red she turns at his question. She takes a moment to think before answering.
"Sometimes, I feel guilty. Sometimes, silence gets so loud it's like my brain fills in the blanks and I hear things. Not, like, voices."
Merlin, could you sound any more batty?
"Just...sometimes, it's like someone is moving around in another room, even if I'm alone. I think it's just paranoia."
She shakes her head, leaning it back against his chest with a sigh.
"Sorry, that probably wasn't the turn-on you were probably hoping for."
His chest vibrates behind her as he laughs, gently brushing his hands up and down her arms slowly, winding one hand into her hair. She feels him press his lips to her neck again before he whispers in her ear.
"I didn't say, 'Hey, Hermione, do me a favor and turn me on.'. I said to tell me what you think about when you're alone. For the record, I want to hear about things like that. Makes me feel like my own shit's not so insulated."
His fingers softly brush the baby hairs away from the nape of her neck and he kisses the sensitive skin tenderly. She shivers, the sensation moving through her limbs. Closing her eyes, she speaks quietly into the warmly lit den.
"Can I tell you something else that I like?"
She feels the warmth of his breath on her neck as he responds.
"I'm afraid I must insist that you do, angel."
She laughs, sinking back into his embrace further as she thinks about how to phrase it.
"The way you check in. You ask if things you're doing are okay. You make me give you a yes or a no. It's refreshing."
They both grow quiet for a moment, his hands tracing their way around her torso, resting on her stomach and pulling her closer. She closes her eyes again, listening to the crackle of the fire.
George
His chin rests on top of her head as he gets lost in the moment, absently stroking his thumb along the curve of the waistband of her jeans. She tips her chin to the side, pressing a kiss against his shoulder before speaking.
"What do you like, George?"
He smiles, kissing the top of her head and thinking.
You.
"I started learning piano at one point. I've thought about picking it back up."
His thumb travels across the flat of her abdomen, gently tapping the button of her jeans as he thinks.
"I like the fall, the chilly air."
He smiles softly into her hair, his other hand slowly trailing fingertips up and down the side of her neck.
"I like how soft you are."
Tilting his head back down to lay a kiss against the side of her neck, his fingers trace down the line of her zipper and softly nudge her thigh to the side. He strokes his fingertips up the inside seam of her jeans and down the opposite side.
"This alright, angel?"
He can feel her breath catch slightly as she composes herself to answer, her voice soft.
"More than alright."
Hermione
How the hell does he do this to me?
Her face and chest bloom with warmth as he nudges her other knee open, still simply tracing along the inner seams of her jeans. His voice is quiet and husky in her ear while he teases her gently.
"Do you enjoy being touched?"
Murder. Absolute murder. This man is trying to kill me.
Her voice shakes slightly as she answers, nodding.
"Yes."
His fingers slowly move back up to the button on her jeans, playing with the cool metal thoughtfully as he murmurs.
"Can these come off?"
The soft sound that escapes her lips as her hips move up into his touch makes him chuckle quietly into her hair.
"Adorable as that is, it's not an answer, angel."
With a shaky exhale, she nods, moving her hands down over his to unbutton her jeans. He slides them down over her hips and she kicks them off the rest of the way before settling back between his thighs, pressing her back into his chest. His lips ghost over her shoulder as he slides one of his hands to her stomach, his fingertips tracing shapes along the soft blue lace waistband of her thong. She swallows, closing her eyes as she relaxes back into him, slowly brushing her own hand across his forearm as she speaks.
"Are you sure about all of this? You avoided coming back here for so long, and now you're coming back with a whole other person."
His breath ruffles her hair as he whispers.
"I don't think I ever would have done it alone, angel. You needed somewhere safe and quiet, where my family would leave you the fuck alone for a bit. In that moment, I could have taken you anywhere, but it just seemed right, coming back here."
She watches as his fingers dip into her underwear, softly stroking a path down her pubic bone as he speaks. Her nerves are set alight everywhere he touches.
"I'll say that it is nice to have some space to figure all of this out, just the two of us. I like being able to touch you without worrying someone will walk in. I like that those little sounds you make are for my ears only."
This week in the Daily Prophet, war hero Hermione Granger found dead of a stroke, soaking wet.
He slowly slides one fingertip up the center of her folds, groaning into her hair quietly.
"Fuck, angel, you're dripping. Please let me taste you. Please?"
Her hips grind down slowly onto his hand, and his fingertips gently trace her clit in small circles. Her voice comes out in a quiet moan before she answers.
"I've never...I mean no one else has ever...you know?"
George
Oh, Ronald, you fucking idiot.
The feeling of her slick pussy underneath his fingers all but breaks his resolve. He tucks his head back into her neck, pressing soft kisses along the side of her throat as he murmurs.
"Does that mean you don't want me to? Or are you just nervous, angel?"
Her little sounds of pleasure as he plays with her make him painfully hard. He applies the slightest bit more pressure on her clit, keeping up the slow, steady circles. His tongue traces a soft line behind her ear as he whispers.
"I only want what you want, Hermione, and I just know this is the sweetest pussy I ever could have imagined."
If she doesn't stop moving those perfect hips against mine, I'm going to humiliate myself right now.
She whines inaudibly as he presses down a bit harder, her hips grinding up into his palm in the same slow circles.
"If I say yes, you'll take it slow?"
He nips softly at her earlobe, his fingers circling a touch faster as he draws a louder moan from her lips.
"As fast or slow as you want, angel. You call the shots. It could be a no, and I'm fine with that."
Her heartbeat is hammering through her back into his chest as he waits patiently for an answer. She nods quietly, and he chuckles, shaking his head.
"Tell me what you want. Out loud."
She's gonna kill me.
Hermione
I'm going to kill him.
She licks her lips, mouth suddenly dry. His fingers slowly strum her right to the edge, holding her there as he waits for her answer. She nods again, her voice coming out in quiet pants.
"I want you to...taste me. Please."
His energy shift is palpable as he gently pulls his hand away, backing up to crawl out from behind her, moving to the other side of the couch. Looking down at her with her eyes closed, flushed, her knees knocked out to the side, he adjusts himself in his jeans and sinks down between her thighs. He slides one hand up the side of her hip, finding her palm and lacing his fingers between hers.
"Look at me, angel."
Her gaze shifts down to his and she melts a bit, her lower lip settling between her teeth once again. He squeezes her hand once.
"Squeeze my hand once if you want me to slow down."
She nods, and he squeezes her hand in two short bursts.
"Twice if you want me to stop. Or, just say stop, okay? I'll take it slow."
She inhales slowly, nodding again. His other hand traces up her thigh, gently tugging at the blue lace of her thong, sliding it down her hips and tossing it to the side with her jeans. He leans in close, pressing a soft kiss to her pubic bone before returning his gaze to meet hers. He squeezes her hand once.
"Checking in."
She exhales with a slight awkward laugh.
Blimey, this man.
"I'm fine, I think. Gods, is it always this awkward?"
He chuckles, kissing his way up the inside of her left thigh, moving to the right and kissing his way back down. He murmurs into her soft skin, nipping gently.
"Anything feels awkward the first time, angel. Just try to relax. Stop me if you need to."
Her heart skips a beat as he works his way back up her thigh, planting another kiss right at the top of her slit. His free hand moves to gently part her lips, and he flicks his tongue out tentatively, groaning softly.
George
Merlin, I'm going to want this all the time.
"You taste so good, angel."
His voice is a quiet growl, and he feels her thighs quiver as he moves the tip of his tongue through her center, gently circling her clit. His eyes flit up to see her undone. Her hair has slipped out of the bun it had been held in, soft brown curls spilling around her head. Her eyes are closed, and the flickering amber light of the fireplace picks up on the sheen of sweat across her forehead.
She falls apart so quickly.
He takes his time, slowly teasing her from opening to clit and back, pulling sweet moans from her lips. He leans back, looking down at the soft flesh glistening with her desire. He slowly brushes his thumb around her clit before looking back up at her with a chuckle.
"You doing alright?"
Her cheeks are flushed a dark pink, her breathing heavy. She swallows, nodding. Her voice is ragged.
"I'm fine. Merlin. I've been missing out."
He laughs with her, him thumb still tracing slow circles.
"Can I keep going?"
This draws a brighter laugh from her as she grinds her hips down onto his hand.
"I'm afraid I must insist that you do, George."
Cheeky fucking girl.
He draws his middle finger through her center before slowly sinking it into her, pumping it gently as he sighs.
"Genuinely, angel, such a nice pussy. I could get lost here for hours."
Leaning back down, he resumes his attention to her clit with his tongue, circling it tenuously. His finger gently pushes into her slick center faster, and soon she's riding the edge of a climax. Her hand grabs at his hair, tugging gently, and he groans into her soft skin.
"That's it, relax. Breathe into it."
He waits for her to take a deep breath before slipping a second finger in with the first, slowing his pace while taking her clit between his lips, sucking gently. She tightens around him with a whine, her thighs shaking softly as they close in around his head.
I could die right now and it'll have been worth it.
Hermione
Fuck. Fuck.
"Fuck, right there."
Her back arches as he takes her over the edge, her heart racing as she comes down slowly, her hips grinding onto his fingers. The sensation on her clit becomes too much, too quickly and she squeezes his hand once. His fingers stop moving and he lifts his head, meeting her eyes with his own. Pressing a kiss to her hip bone, he murmurs into her.
"You look so beautiful when you fall apart. I wish I'd had the restraint to take my time like this the first time."
He slowly kisses his way up her stomach, using his free hand to push up the hem of her shirt. She takes the hint, happy to shed a layer as she pulls off the faded tee, stolen from his wardrobe that morning. Tossing it in her growing pile of clothes, she looks down at him through hooded eyes and her hips slowly grind down on his stationary fingers. A shit-eating grin is pasted across his pale face, hazel eyes reflecting the flames of the fireplace.
"Did you want something, angel?"
Other than to scream your name for the neighborhood to hear?
She clears her throat, chest flushing as she holds his hand, brushing her thumb along the side of his palm.
"Can we switch places for a bit?"
One of his eyebrows ticks up, the grin settling into his features.
"If that's what you want, angel, I'd be an idiot to decline."
He sits up on his knees, and they move places, with her settling between his thighs. She rests back on her heels, studying him. His hair is everywhere, mussed from her grabbing it. She leans forward, tracing her hands up his chest, moving them back down slowly and thumbing the hem of his shirt.
"Can this come off?"
George
He feels his cheeks warm as he pulls off the shirt, tossing it aside. For the first time, he feels exposed, looking up at her as she lets the back of her nails softly drift across his chest, down the hollows of his ribs, and onto his stomach. Her voice is a soft murmur as she studies him.
"You are so lovely, you know that, George? Absolutely wonderful."
Soft lips graze his clavicle and a quiet whine slips from his lips.
Quidditch. Soggy pudding. Nan in a dressing gown. Merlin, pull it together, man.
He rests his hands on her hips, thumbs massaging soft circles as she explores his chest. Peppering soft kisses along his sternum, she mumbles into his skin.
"Do you enjoy being touched?"
His lips twitch into a smirk as she flips his game back around on him. Sliding his hands down her sides, he wraps his fingers around her thighs.
"I like when you touch me, angel."
Another groan is pulled from his lips as she slides her palm across the front of his jeans, the contact almost enough to push him over the edge right then. She licks her lips slowly, watching him harden beneath the denim. Her fingers brush along the length to his belt, flicking her gaze back up to him.
"Can these come off?"
You bet your sweet fucking ass they can.
Nudging her aside carefully with his knee, he undoes the thick leather, pulling it through the loops and tossing it onto the pile. He stands and kicks off his jeans, throwing another log on the fire before returning to the couch. He settles down, his back against the arm and cages her thighs in with his own. Reaching out his arms, he speaks softly.
"Come here for a moment, I want to hold you."
She slides down onto his chest, her arms wrapping around his torso. He buries his nose into her hair, murmuring.
"You don't have to do anything you don't want to. Ever. You know that, right? We could stop right now and it would be okay."
He chuckles quietly into her soft curls, inhaling the scent of his shampoo.
"Something tells me you don't want to stop, but I just want you to know that there's never any pressure from me."
She nods quietly into his chest, pressing another kiss to his sternum before looking up at him.
"I just want to make you feel good. I want to taste you. Is that okay?"
His eyebrow ticks up again.
"I thought you'd never...?"
Her laugh throws him off guard.
"Oh, this I've done plenty. Don't worry about that."
I'm punching Ronald square in the fucking nose.
Hermione
With tentative fingers, she gently strokes the shape of his length through his black boxers, glancing up to meet his gaze.
"Is that okay, George?"
He blinks, shaking himself from whatever thought had grabbed his attention and grins. That snarky knowing smile would be her undoing.
"That is more than okay, angel. As long as that's something you want to do."
He says that like I'm not ruining this couch at the thought of sucking his cock.
Her hand glides up his thigh, finding his and lacing their fingers together. He squeezes her hand once.
"Once for slow down."
She squeezes twice in return, nodding.
"Twice for stop."
He sighs and rests his free hand behind his head, closing his eyes with a smirk.
"Alright, then. Ruin me, angel."
"Ruin me" says the man with a magical fucking tongue. Right.
She's slow, meticulous as she traces her fingertips along the waistband of his boxers, her lip tucked between her teeth. With a gentle tug, his hips raise, and she pulls them down, moving aside to let him kick them onto the pile. Settling back between his legs, she reaches her hand out, grasping him gently and brushing the pad of her thumb across the tip. A bead of fluid runs down the head, accompanied by a groan that escapes his lips.
"You know, I thought your smart-ass mouth or your eyes were my favorite things about you. This might take the cake."
She slowly pumps him once, twice, making note of the splash of freckles scattered between his hips. Her eyes wander up his body to meet his as he gazes down at her hungrily, his thumb gently brushing across her palm. His hips jerk up into her hand when she tightens her grip, and he lets out a quiet whine.
This is what power feels like.
Continuing her steady movements, she leans her head down, breath just ghosting the tip of his length. She looks up at him with a smirk.
"Tell me what you want. Out loud."
The way his face flushes gives her a little shiver of satisfaction. He squeezes her hand once, and she slows down, pumping his cock once or twice every now and then as she waits for his answer. He licks his lips, clearly battling with his restraint.
"I want to feel my cock between your perfect lips, angel. Please."
She blushes at the way he phrases his request, nodding. Leaning her head down, she drags her tongue up the center of the split in the tip, eliciting another quiet groan from George.
George
Keep it together.
Her mouth feels like fucking heaven, he notes, as her lips wrap around the head of his cock. She's so damn gentle, and the slightest bit of suction sends a jolt down his spine. Taking him further, she gags quietly as the head brushes against the back of her palette. Chuckling, he runs his free hand through her hair, winding his fingers into her curls and pulling her back slightly.
"Easy, angel. I'm barely hanging by a thread, here, and I might just weep if I finish in that sweet mouth before I get to sink into your perfect pussy."
The way her cheeks flush at his words causes him to twitch in her mouth, pulling another groan from his. Her soft hand grips the base of his cock, pumping as she slowly moves her head, finding a steady rhythm that works for both of them. Slowly, her fingers trace down the bottom of his shaft, resting on his balls. His hips jerk, and she pulls her mouth off of him, her lips twitching into a smile.
"Is this okay?"
He laughs, exhaling a breath he didn't know he was holding.
"Merlin, Hermione. It's like you're trying to kill me. Yes. That's perfectly fine."
She grins, lowering her mouth to take him again as her hand gently cups his balls, thumb brushing along the soft tissue gently as she sucks a bit harder. The combination pulls an even louder whine from the base of his throat, and before long, he's squeezing her hand multiple times, the fingers woven in her hair pulling her off him.
Fuck. Fuck. That bloated toad Ginny found when we were kids. Filch in a sundress. Don't cum don't cum don't cum.
"Easy, easy, angel."
She pulls back immediately, her warm brown eyes full of concern.
"Are you okay? Did I do something?"
The laugh that come from him startles her, and he tugs on her hand, pulling her into his chest.
"I feel like you underestimate your skill."
He presses a kiss to the top of her head, letting go of her hand to wrap his arms around her torso, pulling her closer.
"Your mouth is fucking nirvana. Should I ever have the sheer privilege of spilling into it, I'll be a lucky man, but tonight I want to feel you fall apart on my cock. Is that what you want, angel?"
Hermione
I've never wanted anything more.
Nuzzling into his chest, she murmurs.
"Can you take over?"
His response is to roll them, looking down at her as he leans in to kiss her softly. One hand thoughtfully traces along the blue lace of her bra, his thumb and forefinger gently rolling her nipple through the thin fabric. She brings her hand behind her, unhooking the garment and sliding it off, completing the small mountain of clothes that has accumulated next to the couch. Dipping his head, he captures a nipple between his teeth gently, the tip of his tongue flicking at it.
How did Hermione die, George? Oh, it was nothing, I just built her up until her heart exploded.
Her chest arches up into his touch, and she feels his knee gently nudge her thighs apart. Settling between her legs, he sits back on his knees, looking down at her as he slowly pumps his cock. She chews her lower lip, a gesture that seems to only encourage him. His voice is soft as he speaks to her.
"Show me how you bring yourself to your peak, angel."
The now familiar warmth spreads across her cheeks and chest at his request. One of her hands slowly makes its way down her stomach, her palm resting on her pubic bone. She uses her middle and ring fingertips to gently brush circles around her clit, breath growing heavy as she watches him pleasure himself in turn. Her eyes close as her fingers move faster, flying open as she feels his hand join hers and he slips an elegant finger inside her. Her breaths turn into quiet moans as they work together to bring her to the edge, and he adds another finger, murmuring above her.
"That's it, angel. Get this pussy nice and relaxed for me. I want it dripping wet."
She clenches down on his fingers, causing him to groan as his cock twitches. He gently slips a third finger in, the slight stretch causing her to crash into oblivion with a drawn out moan. She whimpers softly as she comes down, her hips gyrating onto his hand still.
"I need you. I need to feel you, George. Please?"
He presses a kiss to her forehead as he settles over her, his forearms nestled on either side of her head.
"If I ever deny you that, please have my head checked, because something would have to be in near crisis."
George
Sinking into Hermione feels like coming home. His breath catches, and he pauses as he feels her stretch around him. Every other time they'd fucked, it had been fast-paced and needy. This is different.
Don't think about it too much. Stay in the moment.
Tipping his head down, he captures her lips with his softly. He continues pushing forward, until every inch of him is surrounded by her heavenly warmth. He dips his head to her chest, kissing his way down to her breast. One corner of his mouth twitches up when he feels her clench around him.
"Angel?"
The sigh released above him makes him chuckle.
"Yes?"
He brushes the tip of his tongue across her nipple, delighting in the way her perfect pussy grips him every time he finds a new sensitive spot. He nips the plump underside of her breast, thinking through his question.
"You said no marks that can be seen. Does that mean I can leave marks that can't be seen?"
The way she clenches down around him at the question has him burying his face in her chest with a quiet groan. Her voice is ragged as she answers.
"Like a hickey?"
He nods, softly licking his way up her sternum as his hips begin to rock slowly. A faint whine tumbles from her lips.
"As long as I can cover it up, I don't mind."
Out of sheer instinct, his lips attach themselves to the supple skin to the inside of her nipple, sucking hard enough to leave a small bruise. His cock throbs inside her at the sight, and he runs a thumb over the mark thoughtfully.
Mine.
Her quiet giggle draws his attention, and he twitches inside her again at the sound. His head tilts to the side curiously, hips still rocking slowly.
"Yes, angel?"
Her grin matches his own feral smirk.
"You look awfully proud of yourself, darling."
He stiffens at the moniker.
That's new.
He tilts his head back down, nipping at the soft skin along the side of her breast with a growl.
"Call me that again."
Hermione
Watching him leave a mark on her stirred something deep in her chest. The affectionate name had just slipped out, but his reaction lights a fire in her core. She grinds her hips up into his, lifting her head to press a kiss into his chest and speaking softly into his skin.
"You feel so fucking good, darling."
His pace quickens as he drives into her with a soft groan, kissing her neck as he moans into her ear.
"Blimey, angel. I wanted this to last, but you know just how to push my buttons."
Her legs wrap around his waist instinctively, pulling him in deeper with a quiet whine. He hits a spot that causes her to see stars, her back arching and pressing her chest into his. His soft kisses to her neck turn into light nips before he returns to her breasts, this time leaving a small bruise along the other one with his teeth while his hips pump into hers. In an incredible show of willpower, he slows to a pause, gripping the side of her hip as he looks down at her.
He's so fucking beautiful.
"Can you turn over, angel?"
The feeling of him pulling out of her tugs a whimper from her lips. She nods, rolling onto her knees and resting her weight on her elbows, back arched. She can hear him groan, and looks over her shoulder to be treated with the sight of him pumping his cock slowly, drinking in the sight of her exposed pussy.
"Enjoying the view, darling?"
Her smirk is met with his cheeky grin. He slides forward, notching himself at her entrance and pushing slowly with a quiet moan. Rough hands gently caress her soft skin and as he buries himself in her, he gently taps his palm against the side of her thigh.
"Tell me, angel, have you ever been spanked?"
I wonder if anticipation alone can kill someone.
She swallows, shaking her head.
"I haven't, but can we save that for another day? I might just die if I don't cum on that perfect cock, George."
George
He files the thought away for another time, relishing in the way she grips him at this angle. His hips snap into hers in a slow rhythm as he chuckles, twisting a hand into her curls and tugging her head back gently.
"Well, I could never allow that, angel. Why don't you play with that pretty pussy for me? Let's get you there together, I'm not far behind at this point."
He presses soft kisses down her spine as he grinds into her, watching her hand disappear between her thighs. Her fingertips brush his length as it slides into her before resting on her clit, circling it slowly, then frantically as he picks up the pace.
She's so good.
They rock together faster, building in frequency until she's practically vibrating beneath him. Her quiet whimpers turn into pleading moans that rise in volume until every thrust is met with a keen that fills the flat. He leans down, murmuring into her ear, teasing her to the edge.
"Are you going to cum for me? That's it, take that cock like the perfect angel you are. You have no idea how good this pretty, soaking wet pussy feels."
The filth that drips from his tongue takes even him by surprise.
She pulls out shit I've never had the courage to even consider.
Grinding into her harder, he replaces the hand on her clit with his, rubbing little circles faster as her holds her tight to his chest. With a cry that wracks her whole body, he feels her clamp down hard into his cock, her legs shaking. The intensity of the moment pulls him right to the edge. He whimpers into her ear.
"Angel, I'm so fucking close. Tell me where you want me to finish."
Between pants, she groans an answer.
"Don't pull out."
His hips stutter at the demand and he spills into her, his arms giving out as he rests against her back, sensitive and twitching inside her as little aftershocks zap through him. Resting a hand along her side, his thumb brushes along her ribs gently while he catches his breath. Eventually, he tips his head up, looking around for his wand. He presses another kiss to her spine before pulling out slowly, grabbing his wand from the hearth and casting a quick scourgify on her, and then himself. Crashing back onto the couch, he pulls her into his side with a sigh.
"You're sure that was okay, angel?"
Hermione
Okay is a neck rub, that was a spiritual experience.
She chuckles and nods, nuzzling into his chest.
"Everything about that was perfect. I take a monthly contraceptive brew, don't worry about that."
She lets out another quiet groan, wrapping her arms around his torso.
"I didn't know it could feel like that. Like...like magic, honestly. Just so instinctual."
She feels his breath ruffle her hair as he chuckles in response.
"Only feels like that with the right person, angel. I'd say you're definitely the right one."