Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to J. K. Rowling. It's nice that she lets us play with it.
A/N: Sorry, folks! I thought the whole story would be posted by now, but life gets in the way. There's just one chapter to go after this one. Thank you as always for reading, and bigger thanks for reviewing - especially to Rori Potter, pixie08363, 93 Diagon Alley, Kiesamiesa, and smc1214 for reviewing multiple chapters of the story so far. Feedback means a lot to me. Hope you enjoy this chapter (and remember, this story is rated M for a reason)!
Part Four
"I believe at this stage it would be traditional for me to offer you some sort of a nightcap," said Hermione, looking over her shoulder at Fred while she unlocked the door to her flat.
She hoped that her coworkers would not notice her slightly early departure from the party, but she had found herself having difficulty focusing on the festivities after that last slow dance with Fred. She was sure that Fred would have noticed her contemplative silence when they sat back down for dessert. With her mind trying to assess what she was feeling, she found she couldn't stay much longer, just wanting to get back to a more secure, more familiar environment. And if it happened to be a more private environment as well… well, that was just happy coincidence, wasn't it?
"That would be great. Thank you," answered Fred. "What do you have?"
Opening her door, Hermione let Fred in and walked over to her small but reasonably well-stocked liquor cabinet. "I have a rather nice cognac," she said. "Would you be up for that?"
"Sounds great," he said, sitting down on her sofa. He undid his bow tie and the top button of his tuxedo shirt. "Ah, much better," he said. "I hope this doesn't seem rude or anything. It's not that I don't like getting dressed up, but it's hardly as comfortable as an old jumper and jeans, you know?"
Hermione laughed. "I know what you mean," she said, sitting beside him with their snifters. She passed him his glass, and set hers down on the coffee table. "In that case, since you've already started getting comfortable, I'm not wasting any more time." She bent down and removed her three-inch heels. "Oh, that's so much better!" she breathed, relieved to have her feet out of their individual torture devices.
"I just don't understand how you women can wear those things," laughed Fred.
"Oh, me neither. That's why it's a special-occasions-only sort of thing for me," she affirmed, flexing her toes.
"Here, stretch out," Fred offered, shuffling to an end of the couch.
"Oh, thank you," she said. Hermione sat at the other end, and stretched her legs out, with her feet resting on Fred's lap. While it was a seemingly easy movement, Hermione found herself trying to figure out, in that split second, whether he meant for her to lean her body against his and stretch her legs out over the rest of the couch, or to stretch her legs out with her feet in his direction. She ended up making the safer choice, but found herself glad that she did, as Fred began to massage her feet between sips of his cognac.
"Mm, oh my god, that's good," she groaned pleasurably, before gasping at realizing exactly how she sounded. "Oh my goodness, I mean, um, well…" she stammered, unable to take back her rather uninhibited reaction.
Fred laughed. "No need to be embarrassed. Just one of my many talents," he boasted, raising his eyebrows. "Enjoy your drink and the foot rub. Like I said, I don't get how you can spend an evening dancing in heels like that. This is the least a perfect boyfriend would do, knowing you're probably in agony right now."
"Still pretending to be my boyfriend, then?" she asked, trying to sound casual.
Fred shrugged. "I keep my promises, and the evening's not over yet, so far as I can tell. I know you don't doubt my attentions anymore, by this point, but I'm still not going to give you reason to come away from tonight saying I was a disappointment."
"I highly doubt that you'd be a disappointment," Hermione murmured into her snifter. The cognac was doing exactly what she needed it to do; between that and the foot massage, she could feel her body relaxing and getting pleasantly warm.
"What was that?" asked Fred.
Hermione gulped. "I said that I highly doubt I'd call you a disappointing date. I've had a really lovely time tonight."
Fred smiled, and placed her feet back in his lap so he could enjoy his drink. "I'm glad. You deserve it."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Do I?"
"Stop it. I know what you're thinking. You're still thinking about what you said to me and George yesterday about not having gone on a date in ages, right?" he asked.
"Maybe a bit," she conceded.
"Well, stop thinking about it. You're great. And you've been wrapped up in your career for the last couple years, yeah?"
"Yeah," she agreed.
"Then maybe it just hasn't been the right time for a relationship for you. When it is, I'm sure that the right person for you will come along," he finished.
Hermione smiled warmly. "That's nice of you to say," she said.
"I meant it," answered Fred, taking a gulp of the last of his cognac, and picking up her feet again to continue kneading them.
Hermione sighed deeply, and settled back against the sofa. As her feet were being attended to, she used the quiet moment to continue trying to gauge her feelings – about the evening, about Fred, about what she wanted. She still wasn't sure, but she knew she wasn't looking forward to an official end to their date. She may not have understood her own emotions, but she knew she had to do everything in her power to prevent it from ending.
She also suspected that she would by no means be displeased with some form of closer contact with Fred. She considered the option of offering to refill his drink, then sitting much closer to him when she returned with their refreshments, and then… well, she'd play it by ear at that point.
She cleared her throat. "Well, would you… like another drink?" asked Hermione, attempting to sound as cool and natural as possible.
Fred looked at his watch, and stood up. "Thank you, but it's getting quite late. I don't have to be in the shop until noon tomorrow, but I should probably still let you get some sleep."
'Damn! That backfired!' thought Hermione, inwardly panicking. 'What do I do? I haven't gotten to sit near him yet, haven't even tried to… I can't let him go. Not yet.'
"So that's the evening done and over with, then? No goodnight kiss? Or is that not one of your 'many talents'?" she asked, trying to maintain a somewhat playful and teasing tone in an attempt to cover up her hopefulness.
"Hey! Don't you dare challenge me! What kind of a pretend perfect boyfriend would I be if you didn't get a perfect goodnight kiss?" asked Fred, mockingly acting affronted.
Hermione tensed slightly as he tenderly placed a hand on each side of her face and leaned toward her. Unsure of what to expect, she allowed him to lead, and not long after their lips met, his tongue slowly caressed hers just slightly. After a few seconds of this languid bliss, she could feel him just beginning to pull away to end the kiss. Hermione decided that she wasn't ready for that yet, and responded by closing the distance between their bodies. She pressed herself flush against him, and wrapped her arms tightly around his shoulders. She could tell that he was surprised by her actions based on the sudden sharp intake of breath, but he made no further move to break away from her. With this new closeness, it wasn't long before their kiss became more fervid, desperate, as their tongues explored one another's, and Fred's hands moved from Hermione's face to around her waist. She pulled closer against him still, and her right leg escaped from her gown through its high slit as she slid her foot around the back of Fred's left leg. It was with this action that he quickly broke away from her, stepping several feet back while he caught his breath.
"I really should go," he whispered, and turned away from her, starting toward the door.
Hermione knew only that she didn't want the night to be concluded, that she had just experienced the best kiss of her life, and that she was craving still further contact with him. Seemingly functioning on autopilot, she spoke again.
"Fred?" she asked, her voice shaking. "The night isn't over yet. Do you maybe want to pretend for a little bit longer?"
Having opened her front door just slightly, he stopped moving and sighed. "You really don't know what you're asking of me, Hermione," he said flatly.
"How can you possibly think that? We're both adults. I know what I'm asking for," she said, trying to sound assertive despite the slight tremble still present in her tone. "I can prove it."
She did the only thing she could think of, the only way to show that she knew what she wanted at that moment. She removed her dress in one deft movement. "Stay?" she asked nervously.
He turned around to see her standing in the middle of her living room, wearing only a delicate, lacy, white strapless bra and tiny white lace knickers.
He closed the door, and removed his evening tailcoat, tossing it on the hall's sideboard.
"Oh, to hell with it," said Fred, and took her back in his arms, renewing their ardent kiss.
Rather than wrapping her arms around him this time, Hermione's hands went to work on removing Fred's elaborate attire. She pulled the undone bow tie out of the way, effectively made quick work of unbuttoning the waistcoat, and then moved on to the buttons of his dress shirt. She tried to pull the shirt off, but the cufflinks Fred was wearing prevented her immediate success, and they had to briefly separate from their embrace while he removed them.
"Why are you wearing so many clothes?" Hermione grumbled.
"I didn't expect to need to be taking them off so quickly," he answered, before reclaiming her lips.
Hermione's nimble fingers unfastened Fred's belt buckle and unzipped his trousers. He kicked off his shoes and socks, and shimmied out of his trousers, stepping out of them as they fell to the floor. The two now both down to their undergarments, they suddenly broke apart for a moment, as though giving each other the opportunity to put a stop to things now if they wanted to. Breathing very heavily, and without breaking eye contact, Hermione nodded her approval, and Fred followed by doing the same. Their lips met again, hands exploring the other's bare skin, frantic and hungry for one another.
Fred broke away from Hermione's mouth, and trailed kisses down her neck, nipping and sucking on it slightly harder as she responded with happy moans.
Without breaking their embrace, Hermione used her remaining focus to lead Fred back to her sofa, and pushed him gently to a seated position while he continued his attentions to her collarbone. As she stood over him, sighing at his ministrations, he reached up and tenderly cupped her left breast, squeezing it gently. Breathing his name, Hermione sat down, straddling Fred.
They both gasped with pleasure as Hermione ground herself against the substantial bulge in Fred's pants, a fresh shockwave of lust running through the two of them. As Hermione ran her hands over his chest, Fred's mouth returned to hers in another heated kiss.
Without breaking any focus away from her lips, he slid one hand along her back, finding the clasp to her lacy bra. With what seemed like a single snap of his fingers, the clasp was undone, the bra falling down between their bodies.
Hermione broke away with a smile. "My goodness, you're good at just about everything, aren't you?" she said teasingly.
Fred grinned mischievously. "You tell me," he said, before placing his mouth over her right nipple, tonguing it fervently as Hermione started to moan again. She continued to roll her hips, grinding against him harder still, until her arousal seemed to be at its absolute zenith. Or so she thought, until Fred's hands firmly grabbed her arse, pressing her somehow even closer to him.
"Fred," she managed to say at a gasping whisper. "Can't wait any longer."
"Hmm?" he simply responded. The subtle vibration of spoken hum against her nipple caused her to take a sharp intake of air.
"Can't wait any longer. Need you right now," she breathed, her hands tugging at the waistband of his boxers.
Fred moved away from her breast with one more kiss against it. "Then let's go to the bedroom."
"Can't wait. Here," she whined, trying to convince him with another buck of her hips.
Fred groaned pleasurably, and then shook his head. "If we're still pretending for the night, a perfect boyfriend would not allow the first time to be a desperate, hurried shag on the sofa. Now, you get your sexy arse to the bedroom so I can do all the things I want to do for you."
Hermione's eyes widened at the promise, and quickly took Fred by the hand, leading him to the bedroom, practically pulling them both onto her bed.
Fred started kissing Hermione again, his fingers this time working their way to her tiny lace knickers. After pulling them over her hips, his lips left hers at he brought his attention further down. Kissing along her neck, then breasts, then stomach, his mouth finally found its goal between her legs.
Hermione gasped for what seemed like the hundredth time that night, this time feeling as though she had taken all of the air out of the room, as his tongue found her clit. She started to groan with desire as he languidly tongued at her nub, shifting from stroking motions to counter-clockwise ones. Her low groans turned suddenly into almost animalistic, wanton hollers as he slipped a finger inside her, firmly but expertly rubbing until he found her g-spot.
Slipping a second finger inside her, Fred continued his attentive ministrations both with his mouth and fingers. Hermione's hands fisted into her duvet as she thought she was going to lose her mind completely. Moaning his name one more time, her orgasm rolled through her suddenly, her whole body writhing as she came harder than she ever had before.
Fred smiled with satisfaction as he watched her panting, sweating, and looking utterly spent. He crawled up beside her on the bed, and whispered in her ear, "if you're done for the night, just let me know, I can always head home and… uh, look after myself." His eyes gestured downward, and hers followed them to the considerable erection straining readily against the fabric of his boxers, and despite her exhaustion, her arousal swelled again.
"Said I needed you," Hermione breathed. She took the waistband of his boxers and carefully pulled them over his hips. Her eyes widened as she finally viewed a nude Fred, and slid her hand along his solid length, revelling in his blissful shudder at her long-awaited touch. "I meant it."
"Thank fuck for that," said Fred, positioning himself above her. "I'd have left it at that if it was all you wanted, but it would have meant a whole night of non-stop wanking for me after that. Wouldn't have gotten any sleep at all."
She giggled, then hissed sharply as he slid into her. He held still at the sound.
"Are you okay?" he asked tenderly, brushing a curl away from her face. "Should I stop?"
Hermione shook her head vehemently. "You'd better not stop," she said warningly. "It's just been a really, really long time for me, and you are… shall we say, rather prodigious?"
Fred laughed. "I'd have thought you'd have been too distracted to hang onto that large vocabulary of yours."
She grinned wickedly. "I'm nearly there. Go on, keep distracting me."
He began to slowly, leisurely thrust inside her. As she became accustomed to him, she let out a happy sigh, and wrapped her legs high around his back. At this encouragement, his thrusts gradually grew faster, and their voices joined together in exultant moaning.
"Hang on," he said, after several minutes of delicious friction. Before she could respond, he held her and rolled them over – so that Hermione was now perched atop him. "Wanted to have this view to remember," said Fred, pressing into her again, even deeper in this new position, and he groaned her name. "Can't last much longer," he eventually breathed, after a few more minutes of thrusting.
His lustful words affected her, causing a fresh wave of wetness, and she grinned impishly as she tightened her muscles around him. He gasped, and stilled her hips with his hands.
"Don't do that just yet," he said, between gasps for breath. "I want to see you go again first."
"I'm just a bit tired after that first one," she whispered back. "Nearly there, though."
"Let's get you there," he said. "Put those fingers to good use, yeah?"
Hermione nodded, and rubbed her clit as Fred started again to rock her back and forth against his throbbing length, clearly using every drop of strength he had to hold back. Three more thrusts had her over the edge, howling his name as she lost control.
Unable to wait any longer at the mind-blowingly arousing sight of Hermione's second orgasm of the night, Fred spilled inside her, still thrusting and clenching her hips, finally allowing himself the gratifying release he'd been struggling to restrain.
Completely spent, Hermione collapsed on top of him, keeping him inside her as they both caught their breath. When she eventually found her voice again, she whispered, "You really are the perfect boyfriend, aren't you?"
Fred grinned. "I aim to please," he said huskily.
She kissed him once more before rolling off of him and sliding under the rumpled duvet.
"I had such a great time tonight," she said simply, exhaustion beginning to set in. "Let me know if you're up for pretending again sometime, yeah?"
Her eyes drifted shut. Rolling over, sleep claimed her before she could even hear any sort of response. When she woke up to the sunlight blazing in through her window the next morning, she rolled over to greet Fred with a kiss. Finding the other half of the bed empty, she pulled the covers back over her head while her eyes burned with humiliated tears.
