A/N: Normally I'm not one for smut...well smut writing, but this has been bouncing around in my head for a while and I just had to write it. Be gentle, it's my first time.
A/N/2: This is AU, so they're not witches and Fleur isn't particularly French except in terms of passion...though she's still Veela.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything, except Matthew and Manfred.
Fire In The Night
Fleur was in a rage, completely furious to the point that even Matthew was beginning to become slightly nervous. She paced the room from end to end, pausing every now and then to stop and glare at her reflection in the mirror, silently cursing. After awhile Matthew hesitated to venture a inquiry as to what was upsetting her, not satisfied to let his mistress rage and vent in a way more extreme than normal.
"My lady, what's wrong? You've been upset since we got back from the funeral. Surely you're not upset over the death of Ronald that much? I know you were fond but…" started Matt, trailing off as Fleur turned her intense glare onto him. For a brief moment he thought she was going to hit him, but then she simply flopped down onto the lounge armchair.
"The loss of Ron is neither here nor there, and certainly not worth upsetting myself over. He was a man, and men to me are toys. No, something far worse vexes me," stated Fleur dispassionately, the death of her apparently favourite lover not affecting her in the slightest. Her eyes slowly changed from icy daggers into her normal soft blue pools. Matthew waited patiently for her to continue, as he knew she would without prompting if he was patient. If he rushed her he would find out nothing.
A few minutes passed in silence save for the crackling of the fire, before Fleur stood and walked over to the mirror, looking at herself with a curious expression. She played with the ends of her flowing golden hair and sighed.
"You know that all men save you fall for me without a second thought, and women also yes? I can have my desires sated by whoever I choose, long hot nights and lustfully thrilling days. You know it is truth, as do I…yet one Miss Hermione Granger seems ignorant of that fact. Indeed, she saw fit to reject me."
Matthew looked at Fleur in poorly veiled surprise, shocked by the reasoning of his mistress, not quite sure what to make of the situation.
"My lady, Mistress Delacour, you have your choice of any other man or woman you could want…" he started, but was suddenly cut off by the sound of breaking glass as Fleur punched the mirror, shattering it. Blood dripped from her fist, and she leaned against the wall breathing heavily. When Mathew came close she raised her bloody fist in a warning gesture, and he stilled as she gathered herself.
"I want her!" she shouted at him, like a petulant child deprived of a new toy, her hands now clenched tightly by her sides, "I can have anyone except her and I want her all the more! Everyone else, they come to me but not actually for me myself, but what I look like, my Veela blood. She, she is not affected, indeed I think she hates me. There is a fire in her eyes that sets my heart racing in a way no lover has managed with any amount of wild and passionate sex, she despises me, everything I am, and god damn it I want her. I want her, and I will have her!"
By the end of her rant Fleur's eyes had narrowed dangerously, and Matt found himself suddenly pitying Hermione Granger. He knew Fleur could be stubborn and persistent, and at times forceful, when she wanted something…and so he couldn't help but think Miss Granger was in trouble
Hermione slowly walked along the cold night street, a chill wind whipping her chestnut locks up around her pale face, a brooding expression on her face. Her thoughts were focused on the Lady Delacour, a beauty undoubtedly, but arrogant in a way that made Hermione's hackles rise with a glance. Of all the nerve, the 'Lady' had approached Hermione at a funeral, a funeral of all places, and suggested they go somewhere more private.
It hadn't even been that which had annoyed Hermione, it was the sense of conceited confidence with which Fleur had spoken. Like Hermione should have been grateful for the attention, as though saying no was out of the question.
Hermione allowed herself a small smile, because she had said no, and in no uncertain terms. In fact thinking about it, she realised she'd been rather harsh about it. She wondered if she should have been a little nicer, and then she remembered how Fleur had been more surprised then hurt, and was suddenly glad about how harsh she'd been. It was good for the little witch to get a taste of her own medicine.
Fleur dismissed Matthew, stating that he could not help her in the state she was in now. She was frustrated, she was fiery and she wanted satisfaction. As Matthew was somehow able to resist her dazzling looks and thrall he was no use, and besides, Fleur wanted something more feminine.
Moving from the manor living room, she went to her own bedroom and decided that tonight would be a good one. Indeed, if she couldn't have Hermione, she would have someone else instead to feed her appetite.
Opening her wardrobe she looked at her clothes and tried to decide on what to wear. She was torn between the large choice, but eventually she found an outfit she was happy with. Stripping off quickly, she pulled on a lacy black bra and panty combination, followed by a red corset trimmed with more black that pushed up her pert breasts making them look more full, and a short black skirt that showed off a large amount of her long slender legs. Not bothering with tights, she pulled on the final part of her outfit, black leather calf length boots.
Looking at herself in a full length mirror, trying to decide if the outfit would be okay, and with a smirk she decided that indeed it would be. She chuckled slyly as she left her bedroom, finding out the butler to give instructions before she left.
"Manfred, make sure my 'private' chambers are prepared. I'll be bringing home a playmate and I don't want to have to wait," she ordered, waiting for Manfred to nod in acknowledgement before sweeping out of the manor and heading straight for the nearest nightclub.
Hermione felt the cold bitterly, the icy wind tearing through her blouse and jeans to make her shiver. She knew it was stupid for her to stay outside, yet she couldn't face going back to the apartment she had shared with her fiancé Ron for so long.
Instead she decided that she needed to unwind, to lose herself and just forget, for one night. To do that she required alcohol, and something fun to do while slowly getting drunk. With that in mind she pointed herself in the direction of 'Apollo', the closest nightclub in range, determined that she'd have a good time and just forget.
When she arrived she paid the entrance fee and moved directly to the dance floor, joining the crush of dancers, all grinding and gyrating against each other. Hermione let herself go, ignoring everyone and just feeling the music as it vibrated through the air. She moved, so sensually and smoothly, closing her eyes and moving to the steady thump of the music as it pounded on.
Suddenly she felt someone's hands on her waist, and span around to find a leering twenty something man rubbing himself against her.
"Do you mind?" she spat over the music, disgusted as she felt a hard lump starting press against her leg. The guy shook his head and smirked at Hermione.
"Not really," he replied with a drunken slur, and she tore herself from his grasp disgustedly, pushing through the throng of swaying bodies to the bar. She ordered a Bacardi Breezer and sat on a bar stool, drinking it down and quickly ordering another. As she drank she felt herself relaxing, and thought that perhaps she'd be able to enjoy herself after all.
When Fleur arrived, the first thing she spotted was a familiar lithe figure swaying on a bar stool, obviously quite drunk. The Lady smiled to herself, a perfect opportunity to get exactly what she wanted. Moving over to the bar, she sat beside the one who had dared reject her, and cleared her throat.
"Fancy seeing you here Hermione," greeted Fleur cordially, a suggestive lilt to her voice as a tipsy Miss Granger turned to look, and then groaned.
"Oh great, just what I need tonight, you again," she moaned, slurring her words ever so slightly. Fleur grimaced, she preferred her future playmates sober, but then she smiled as the idea of taking advantage entered her mind.
"You are strange you know. Everyone loves me and yet you seem to…not. Why is that?" she questioned, cocking her head to the side and examining the expression on Hermione's face.
"Well let's see, it could be that you propositioned me at my fiancé's funeral," said Hermione sarcastically, a false smiles playing about her lips, bordering on a sneer.
Fleur nearly went into shock, that was a twist she hadn't been expecting, because she hadn't known Ron had a beloved. In fact, she realised she didn't know much about Ron other than how long his arousal could become, and exactly how well he knew how to use those rough hands of his.
"You were engaged to Ron? How odd, he was marrying you and sleeping with me," said Fleur spitefully, wanting to hurt Hermione for rejecting her earlier.
A sharp stinging sensation appeared in Fleur's cheek as Hermione's hand made contact solidly, making Fleur recoil from the impact.
"You slut!" shouted Hermione, enraged by the fact her man had been cheating on her, and that his Mistress had tried propositioning her. Fleur rubbed the spot where she had been slapped, and then smiled snidely.
"I may be a slut honey, but your fiancé loved it," she gloated, and no sooner had she said the words another slap sent her tumbling off her bar stool. Hermione stood up and towered over Fleur menacingly, but Fleur simply smirked and stood up.
"What's wrong, don't like knowing someone else was making him moan? I'll tell you what, why don't you come with me and I'll show you how I did it?" Fleur offered with a longing glance up and down the length of Hermione's body.
"I'd rather screw a skunk," Hermione spat, not meeting Fleur's gaze, alcohol induced thoughts running through her mind. Fleur noticed and took a step closer, her lips moving closer towards Hermione's with a libidinous fire burning in her eyes.
"You want me and you know it," Fleur murmured, wrapping her arms around Hermione's waist and tugging her forwards so their lips collided.
The reaction was instant, Hermione's arms going around Fleur's neck as their lips pressed together so softly, sweet pressure sending a tremor through Fleur, wanton desire coursing through her, prompting her to draw Hermione's bottom lip into her mouth and nibble it gently. Hermione gasped, her lips opening and forming a 'o' of surprise, and as it did Fleur slipped her tongue in, slowly exploring the depths and crevices of Hermione's mouth.
Not one to be easily outdone, Hermione let her instincts take hold of her, fighting with Fleur for dominance and control, tongues meshing together as they battled for supremacy, until the two women broke apart both panting for breath, glaring at each other with very similar expressions.
"Come with me, I can show you passion like you've never known," cajoled Fleur, a hint of pleading in her voice, as well as a blatant wish to continue where the kiss was surely leading. She grasped Hermione's hand, gazing directly into the chocolate brown of Hermione's eyes.
Hermione was tore briefly, the woman in front of her was a bitch, and yet Hermione could still taste the fire and passion that had accompanied her kiss. She remembered her vow to forget and to have fun, for just one night, and slowly she nodded.
The pair of them arrived at the manor in disarray, flushed and breathing heavily from the promise of what was to come…though it was only Fleur who knew exactly what was going to happen, or at least had a idea of what it would involve.
Pulling Hermione through the hallways, up the stairs and through the manor house until they reached her private quarters, Fleur felt a sense of loose poise, knowing she was in control and would be in control. Capturing Hermione's lips with her own again, they moved together through the entrance, falling onto the bed that dominated the centre of the room. The lights were low as clothes were shed, and then a slow clink as fur lined handcuffs locked around Hermione's wrists, binding her down.
"What the hell?" she swore, tugging and straining against the restraints as Fleur worked on restraining Hermione's legs, using silken rope to secure her legs to the bed posts.
Fleur stood by the side of the bed, watching as Hermione struggled against the bonds, and softly giggling in the low light.
"Be still, you might hurt yourself…and that's my job," she teased, climbing atop Hermione's frantic body and crushing their lips together again. The kiss was different this time, Fleur's tongue more forcefully entering Hermione's mouth, ignoring the way Hermione tried to turn away. After a few moments Fleur's mouth moved downwards, passing over Hermione's jaw and moving roughly down the neck, licking and sucking between harsh kisses.
Suddenly she bit down, not hard enough to draw blood but hard enough that Hermione cried out in pain as tooth marks were left. Fleur pulled back slightly and smiled blissfully.
"That's right, scream for me Hermione, I want to hear you," she moaned, lowering her head again to kiss along Hermione's shoulders, her hands holding onto frantically bucking hips, heat pooling between her own legs as Hermione struggled and sobbed.
Fleur worked back along the shoulders and then down further still, finding soft nubs, mounds that she felt needed hard peaks. Taking one nipple into her mouth she lavished it with her lips and her tongue until she could feel it stiffen under her ministrations. Hermione's sobs slowed and instead turned into soft gasps. Once Fleur was satisfied with the hardness of the first she moved her attention to the second peak, revelling in Hermione's lusty exclamations as Fleur's mouth worked it's magic and her hands slid up and along Hermione's back, smooth caresses as her hand travelled over soft flesh, pulling her closer.
Slowly, Fleur drew back, her mouth lingering on the edge before leaving contact completely. She sat up on her haunches and stared at Hermione intensely, considering something with serious thought as Hermione strained against the bonds in an attempt to recovers the closeness.
"Pretty little Hermione, so feisty and out of control…" murmured Fleur, her eyes running over the length of Hermione's body in a lover's appreciation as Hermione gave a splutter of indignation.
"Out of control? I'm chained to your bloody bed, how am I out of control?" she demanded to know, shivering as a gentle finger was pressed to her lips in a silencing motion, soft and yet commanding in a way that stopped Hermione from saying anything else.
"Darling Hermione, what am I to do with you?" questioned Fleur, "I want to break you so badly, and yet without your fire I fear you'll bore me."
Hermione glared at Fleur as intimidating as she was able to from her bound position, remembering why she'd turned Fleur down before, that arrogant cockiness and smug self-assurance. Fleur was so sure of herself, as if she thought she could have anyone she wanted, and Hermione realised with a sense of frustration that the golden haired beauty was right. Annoyance rose from deep inside and Hermione strained violently against the bonds, bucking her hips wildly to throw off a surprised and unbalanced Fleur, who landed on the carpeted floor with a dull thud.
Fleur's eyes flashed dangerously as she stood up, her gaze withering as she approached Hermione's side. A hand shot out and tweaked one of Hermione's stimulated nubs, and Hermione gasped in shock and some mild pain.
"This is my game and you play by my rules," stated Fleur harshly, pinching the second sensitive nub, drawing another shout. A small pause followed as Fleur considered what she wanted to do to her temperamental playmate.
"You play properly and you get the pleasure, if you displease me or break my rules then I can and will punish you," she promised, her lips near Hermione's ear, the hot breath of the Mistress playing on her captive's senses.
"That's rape," choked out Hermione hoarsely, disgusted to find her body tensing in anticipation and hoping that her sweet torturess wouldn't notice. Of course Fleur was ever observant, surprisingly in tune with Hermione's body, and she laughed huskily.
"It's not rape if you want it, and you want it badly," she said with a teasing lilt, licking Hermione's ear and revelling in the shudder that followed. Fleur nipped the lobe, and then gently tugged on it with her teeth, forcing a sharp gasp from her torn partner.
Hermione had no idea what was going on in her body, and her mind was just as confused. She knew that everything was wrong, she was bound to a bed getting slowly closer to ravishment by her dead fiancé's mistress, and yet it felt so damn good. She wanted so desperately to just give in to the sensation, but if she did she was afraid she'd lose herself.
"I don't…I don't want it…or you," Hermione managed to stammer, her breathing becoming heavier as Fleur's lips left her ear and travelled over Hermione's cheek. It was a lie, Hermione knew it, Fleur knew it, the way Hermione's body writhed was proof of it.
Soft fingers stroking along her thighs made her moan and shiver, tremors of anticipation running through her as the almost tender caressing reached up higher. Delicate lips tracing her neck, the hot breath of a predator against the flesh of the prey, Hermione found her eyes becoming heavy lidded as Fleur expertly planted butterfly kisses along Hermione's neck. It wasn't fair, that it should feel so good and still Hermione's mind wouldn't just let her enjoy it.
"Tell me you want it," ordered Fleur, her fingers ghosting lightly over Hermione's wet lips, her thumb gently nudging the hooded bundle of nerves, and her eyes watching the changing expressions on the brunette's face. Outrage, longing, desire, need…and a stubborn pride.
"No…no I won't, I don't," replied Hermione, each word shaky like her trembling body, not willing to give in and yet unable to be assertive. Even if her words had been commanding, Hermione had no control and she knew it, she was bound to a bed and slowly being teased to the edge of her mind by a expert.
Then the teasing stopped, Fleur withdrawing her hands and her lips, leaving Hermione with an acute sense of loss. She wanted to ask what the blonde was doing, why she had stopped, but to ask something like that would be to admit she wanted it to continue…and Hermione's pride would never let her do something like that. Instead she remained quiet apart from the ragged sound of her breathing and the rapid pounding of her heart, shifting as much as her bonds would allow but not bothering to fight against the bindings.
Fleur left Hermione's range of sight, and even when the brunette craned her neck, the blonde seductress was out of view. Shifting and leaning, Hermione tried to twist herself enough to see at least where her captor was standing, and was rewarded with the view of the most shapely ass she had ever seen. Sucking in a sharp breath, the temperature seemed to rise and Hermione felt her cheeks becoming heated and flushed. During their exchange Fleur was as naked as Hermione, but it was the first moment Hermione had had to actually appreciate the naked curves of her companion.
She was unable to see what Fleur was doing, yet Hermione found that with the lovely distraction just in view she didn't mind, and the dull ache in her neck was likewise dismissed from her thoughts. Then when the figure turned, Hermione started to throb again, the tight blonde curls at Fleur's centre holding moisture that was illuminated by the candlelight, the arousal of the blonde woman making Hermione rather turned on herself…or rather, more turned on. The closer the figure came the faster the throbbing between Hermione's legs became, her eyes not bothering to examine anything but that glorious display of arousal. The soft pink tip of Hermione tongue darted over her lips, and a musical laugh filtered through the air.
"See something you like?" asked the melodious voice that was Fleur's, and Hermione looked away sharply, as if breaking out of a trance. Her cheeks flushed red and she bit her bottom lip, not quite able to believe she had just be staring so intently at Fleur's wet centre. She avoided Fleur's eyes and shook her head, not trusting her voice to say no when she was obviously lying. The simple action drew another laugh from Fleur, though this time the laugh was not without a hint of something altogether more devious. The sound made Hermione look up…just in time to feel a blindfold covering her eyes.
Her sight gone, Hermione suddenly felt the rest of her senses flair up, the sensation of Fleur's naked body leaning down against hers foremost in Hermione's mind.
"If you don't see anything you like…I guess you don't mind not seeing anything," murmured Fleur huskily into Hermione's ear, and the brunette was too flustered to contradict her. A soft wet trail ran over Hermione's ear, a slight roughness to it, and the brown eyed captive realised it was Fleur's tongue.
Slowly Fleur started to rock backwards and forwards against Hermione, making their bodies brush together, hard nipples rubbing against hard nipples, wetness slick against wetness. Hermione could feel everything and her pulse sky rocketed, her nerves more sensitive now she was without sight, so sensitive she was unable to hold back a moan of longing. Her moan drew one from Fleur, who was just as aroused as Hermione and twice as willing to show it.
Grinding their centres together, Fleur groaned hotly, wanting more from Hermione, want to touched her, wanting to be touched back. Oh if only Hermione were more willing, but no matter. If the widow wouldn't let Fleur please her, then the least she would do was give Fleur pleasure.
Whispering into Hermione's ear, damp from Fleur licking and kissing it, the blonde sounded husky and near the very edge of control, "I want you Hermione, I want you to know how much I want you," she admitted with a tone of urgency. Slowly she dragged her body up along Hermione's, leaving a trail of heat as she went, until she was able to sit on her haunches, poised over Hermione's mouth.
Hermione felt like she was going insane, her senses all on edge. She'd felt the brush of Fleur's hot breath when the woman had whispered, heard the need in her tone. Her body still felt on fire from Fleur's caresses, and now from the sensation of feeling Fleur's throbbing need sliding along her. When Hermione could smell the almost musky scent of the blonde woman's arousal, her brain finally switched off as something far more primal turned itself on.
Her head craned up and the minute her lips met Fleur's lower set she lost whatever control she had, and plunged into the decadence she had been craving. Her tongue experimentally ran the length of Fleur's entrance, and on hearing a gasp from the woman above her she repeated the action but with more force, feeling Fleur jolt and semi-consciously smiling. She couldn't see, but Hermione knew how to use her sense of touch, probing the area that was filling Hermione's nose with a heady aroma, focusing more on parts that made Fleur jolt or moan.
While she was unable to use her eyes to identify exactly what she was touch, what her tongue was rubbing and lapping at, she could feel it was a bud shaped area that made Fleur react the most. With that in mind she intensified her probing, giving long licks alternated with short bursts of lapping. She could hear Fleur moaning above her, feel her swaying, taste just how much the seductress enjoyed being seduced, smell the arousing musk produced from her efforts…Hermione was in heaven.
But not as far in heaven as Fleur was, all the way up on the seventh floor and still sky rocketing higher. She had taken many lovers in the past, had let many do to her what Hermione was doing, and somehow with Hermione it felt so much better. It wasn't Hermione was doing something new or different, more the fact she was doing it at all…the one person Fleur couldn't have was having Fleur, the irony wasn't lost on her but merely ignored as decadent pleasures raced with the beat of Fleur's heart, her body as hot as her blood.
Hermione pressed on more swiftly, being as rough as her situation would allow, suckling the bud she had found, adding more pressure, and Fleur responded in earnest. She rocked against Hermione's mouth, clinging to the headboard of her bed for stability as she fought to stay upright. She knew she had to stay still, allow Hermione to work her magic, and without the aid she would have received had her lover been unchained, but it was so hard. She was moving with Hermione's tongue already, yet it was hard to control the urge to thrash, then feelings so intense her legs were twitching and her whole body trembling.
The build up was too much, and Fleur could feel her back arching, her hips tilting into Hermione's mouth as she screamed, the sound torn from her throat and caused by pleasure so intense it was almost painful. Her eyes were squeezed shut as she threw her head back to call Hermione's name, sweat gleaming on her forehead from the heat emanating from both of their bodies. Without being touched her nipples were erect and were tingling as climactic pleasure rippled through Fleur's body, starting at her wet throbbing centre and rushing to her head leaving her dazed and breathless in it's aftermath.
Panting she moved herself away from Hermione's still eager tongue, laying her length on Hermione's, her head in Hermione's shoulder as she tried to catch her breath back, waiting for the haze clouding her mind to clear. She had known Hermione would be fiery, seen the flames burning in her eyes, felt the passion in her kiss at the bar, and yet for the woman to make her come so quickly was something that left Fleur stunned.
"Ron was a fool, you're incredible," murmured Fleur huskily, not noticing exactly what she had said until it was out, and then she wished she could take the words straight back. Mentioning Ron was quite possibly the worst mistake she could have made…or so she thought until she heard a melodic laugh from her captive, musical yet breathy and altogether arousing.
"If I'm so incredible, then why don't you let me see my handiwork?" teased Hermione, raising her head in a not so subtle hint. The movement and change in the brunette surprised Fleur to the extent she was frozen, not able to quite believe how quickly the transition had occurred. It was as though all Hermione's inhibitions had been shattered just by giving her some control of the situation.
Without speaking Fleur took a shaky breath and leaned up to remove the blindfold, tossing it to the floor before she was able to bring herself to make eye contact. What she saw was enough to take her breath away. There was a gleam that sparkled in Hermione's eyes, challenging Fleur, taunting her. It seemed to say 'and you thought I was out of control before?'.
"Untie me Delacour," commanded Hermione, the gleam in her eyes intensifying, telling Fleur she really did want to be untied…and that for now escaping was the last thing on her mind. The expression on her face was one of flirtatious desire, and a deeper passionate lust. Fleur was taken aback and nearly did as she was told, before checking herself and trying to remember which one of them was supposed to be in control.
"Not until you call me Fleur," retorted the blonde, trying to gain back some kind of dominance. She was used to leading situations, and wasn't about to relinquish her command just yet. However she was finding it hard to resist the look in Hermione's eyes, the look that was telling her she wouldn't regret giving in. She hoped that her request would throw Hermione off, perhaps reawaken her stubbornness so Fleur could retake the role of temptress.
"Untie me Fleur," said Hermione, her voice a teasing murmur, enticing and somehow seductively mocking. It was as if she had realised the game Fleur was playing, and had decided to go all in for the win. Whatever her thoughts as she did it, her words had the desired effect and Fleur did a double take, staring at Hermione in astonishment. Without another word she reached for Hermione's leg restraints and untied them.
The minute Hermione's legs were free she wrapped them around Fleur's waist and pulled the woman flush against her, "Now the handcuffs, Fleur" purred Hermione in the dominatrix's ear, bringing a hot flush to said woman's cheeks. Hermione's sudden turn around had left Fleur unprepared and venerable, her formally unknown ability to actually blush rearing its head to prove it.
Without arguing Fleur reached up to press the catches on each handcuff, unlocking them and fully freeing Hermione from her captivity. About a second later Fleur found herself flat on her back with her hands pinned above her head. She barely had time to gasp before her lips were otherwise occupied, Hermione smashing into her in a devastating kiss of wild unrestrained lust.
Hermione's tongue worked Fleur's mouth open, and the brunette nipped Fleur's bottom lip before drawing out the blondes tongue so she could suck on it. While she was doing this she was heatedly grinding her body against Fleur's in the same way Fleur had been doing it to Hermione. Breasts against breasts, arousal against arousal, the friction making the room temperature rise to boiling point, sweat rolling off of both women.
Fleur moaned into the kiss she was being subjected to, finally having a real taste of her own medicine and loving it. It wasn't what she was used to, but Fleur was never a person to resist pleasurable experiences. She felt Hermione shift above her, then groaned as her centre was ground into by a roving thigh.
Not quite ready to give up on control completely, Fleur pressed one of her own thighs up against Hermione's wetness, being rewarded by a sharply inhaled breath. Shifting and grinding upwards she was able to draw out a gasp, continuing until she heard a moan. However after a taste of control Hermione wasn't ready to give up either, even if what Fleur was doing was enjoyable, and she recovered quickly to grind back, as per her original intention.
Both women moved against each other with intense determination and with resolve, neither willing to fully relinquish control, both feeling the effect. Raw tones of passion were being ripped willingly from them, loudly vocalising their appreciation of sensation. Hands roamed over naked flesh, kneading and caressing, stroking and rubbing, unable to get enough of each other.
"I knew you wanted me," gasped out Fleur, trying to be smug but her voice too overwhelmed, and punctuated with too many gasps, to be able to pull it off properly. For her efforts though she was rewarded with Hermione reaching down to squeeze her crotch. Instinctively Fleur moaned and her hips bucked, making Hermione's lips curve into a lazy smirk.
"Of course I want you, I like sweet things," said Hermione as she left tantalising kisses along Fleur's neck, moving slowly along her jaw line before reaching her ear and whispering, warm air making nerves stand on end as words flowed, "and you want me just as much."
The tone of Hermione's voice was provocative, like a familiar lover, which Fleur was starting to feel she was. With a hint of a blush she smiled seductively, "You know I do," she murmured through light gasps.
"Are you mine?" demanded Hermione suddenly, stopping her caresses and pinning Fleur again, eyes boring into eyes as she waited for a answer. Hermione didn't know why, but she had the urge, the need and hunger, to own Fleur, to possess her completely. To be the only one.
Fleur all but froze in place, her heart racing and her blood pounding through her veins, unable to tear her eyes away from Hermione. Was she willing to be owned? Was she ready? And by Hermione, the woman who only this morning had hated her with a passion. Her heart was drumming against her ribs in a mad tattoo as she searched Hermione's eyes, seeing the searing fire lit in them, the desire, the urgency, and something else. The look in Hermione's eyes melted what doubts Fleur had, and she felt something welling inside.
Slowly Fleur nodded, giving up her heart as she had given up her body earlier, two firsts in a night. Hermione smiled triumphantly and gave Fleur a chaste kiss while keeping her pinned. "Good, because the minute I tasted you I knew I wouldn't be leaving…I'm yours too," she admitted, her voice throaty and sincere, laced with lust and something that bit deeper.
Two people brought together with lust and gaining what they never expected.
Love, forged by fire in the night.