Disc Hp belongs to Jkr. The storyline, new character development, new events, and new characters are my intellectual property.
Warning, this chapter's content might be better suited for mature readers.
Love Regrets
"I must have you," he asked, "I know it is wrong, but would you consider it? Please," he pressed his sex harder and moving his hips faster, asked, "Can't you feel my need? I need you more than breathing."
Her legs wrapped around his hips, his strong arms were supporting her, aided with levitation.
He hid his face in her neck, breathing her, nuzzling his lips against her fragrant skin; his hips couldn't stop moving. There, a finger had found her channel; pleasure made him want to scream, so he bit her neck; it felt too good. His breath was very loud, coming in spurts.
He wanted to wait to be indoors, more than ever feeling that she was very wet; he could feel flutters around his finger; oh, to be inside her, with his cock, gods.
She put her finger to his lips, "Shh, don't say anything." Her hips moved, helping him, and she wished their clothes gone, just a bit more, she thought. One hand on her bum, as his fingers moving had stopped all thoughts of others.
"Where are you staying?" Her sounded voice breathy, and her body trembled.
He'd paid for several years in a house for travelers they called a hotel. They looked at him as if he were crazy, but he didn't want any questions when he arrived every couple of months; the personnel treated him like royalty, and nobody asked any questions. Fresh fruits and other delicacies were always waiting, along with fine wines.
"Come," and without a wand, he Apparated them into the room. She didn't comment or questioned about not using a wand that would come later.
In the room, they fell into each other's arms blinded with lust. Salazar felt an emotion he couldn't grasp; he wanted what? Not sure of what, thus, he let her down, wanting to free his cock, finally.
She tore at his robe, and this was new for him. Sex was just a bit of touching, with him doing most of it; half undressing, penetration, climax, leave or go to sleep.
Of course, for him, sex was a physical release, but he had spied on Rowena and Godric, and their times together were entirely something else. They were naked, and no part of their bodies went untouched; they loved with the mouth, hands, and body, front and back; some of their acts were forbidden and considered unnatural.
But, oh gods, how he'd wish to experience every act with them. That was when he offered a triad; he found watching most stimulating; he'd wanted what they had.
Now, he'd read, times had changed, and sex was an art. And seemingly, she was well versed as she was in many other areas; now he understood his former good friend, and he wanted what he had seen and more, with her.
She took off her robes, and his breathing stopped. She wore the most alluring garments he had ever seen. A minimal lacy cover over her breasts and sex, he could hear the sounds he made, which scared him; they were the cries of an animal in rut. His hand stretched to touch her.
She noticed his lazy, sensual look, his breathing, the desire for her, his animalistic sounds, the enthusiasm in his touch, something she hadn't seen since ever; with this realization, liquid fire flowed out of her.
Salazar stood just transfixed, in awe. Hermione took off her bra slowly, teasing him, revealing her breasts, one by one. At the sight of her buffed, glowing skin, her defined muscled body, and her creamy breasts topped with light color nipples, he groaned; and the sound made her want him even more. He stood there, just watching.
She turned around, a bit shy, to pull down her knickers, and the view made him go for his cock, he opened his robe, undid the fasteners on his trousers, liberated it, and stroke it, better that was better.
Better until he moved in a trance, his hands reaching for her. He found out that the knickers were the cover over her wet sex.
He wanted more, and at seeing her naked back, and now her bum as she lowered her knickers, he lunged for her, arms around her.
As he went down on his knees, he bent and bit her bum, both cheeks, perhaps too hard. He couldn't help it; he was no longer in control.
He licked her back, down and up, to the junction of her thighs, possessed. Her arousal scent drugged him, it was a lust potion. He was no longer human and wanted to drink her, to feast on her.
She turned around as if he were on fire and started to undress him.
"No, let me," his voice sounded odd; impatiently, he moved his hand, and with another wandless, his clothes fell on a heap, along with the small lacy cover that was halfway down her thighs.
He pulled back and saw her sinuous body, so very alluring, but her sex, by Eros, it was trimmed… even that was perfect. Her arousal glistened on the outer folds, and he breathed deeply, this was new, and as in the book, she was wet. That was the slickness before.
"In thee, in," his voice was but a whisper; yes, he just wanted in. Hermione was looking as well, my, oh my, his body was fit and powerful.
She traced her dry lips, looking at him. He was gifted; his large darkened cock dripped and pulsed against his belly, she would say it was like Viktor's, or what she remembered from that short time with him.
She bent, stretched her hand, and as she had traced her lips, just with the fingertip, she learned his cock. His stomach muscles contracted, and he looked at her with wonder.
He was like Viktor but bigger. At the time she had been afraid that Viktor would hurt her, not now. Her sex was more than ready for him. His chest was nearly hairless, and his hair was blond everywhere.
He looked well, tasty; thus, she wanted to have him in her mouth, first. Lately, Ron had complained when she tried to do the same, which she found so outrageous. She remembered what she believed to be a game. "Your desires are out of control, ahem, even if I am your husband, and, well, you make me feel uncomfortable. I'm not playing; I mean it." That was the day when Hermione knew for sure, Ron had someone else.
And yes, she liked oral gratification, both ways; thus, she pulled him up and walked him to the bed.
He was enthralled; this day was pure magic. And now, what was the nymph going to do? He found out soon enough.
After she pushed him onto the heavenly bed, she kneeled next to him then leaned and licked her way towards his sex, gods, what was she doing?
What a revelation, he had wondered if a witch would do this voluntarily when he'd read about it.
Once again, he found out the second when her lips wrapped around his cock. She moaned her desire. He heard his loud groan, and his body arched, hips pushing into her mouth. He sent a silencing charm with his hands and hoped it worked. He thought that he forgot something, but so be it.
His cock felt better than good. Everything, from his body writhing, to the unknown strangled words, to his sounds of pleasure, to his hand touching around her mouth as encouragement, all about him, was healing Hermione's wounded soul.
And in her mind recesses, Hermione remembered and missed Viktor, who didn't control his desires; sadly at the time, he had scared her with his wishes. No, she was no longer scared, and, now, she wanted this stranger to die of the pleasure that she's giving him.
Her lips were around his cock, sucking, her tongue working at the same time as he thrust into her mouth with abandonment. Old English and Gaelic, poured out his lips, but she didn't hear, his reaction was enough for her.
His hands caressed her head, her face, urging her, his thrusts faster, pushing deeper. He hoped that he wasn't hurting her. What now? Her fingers were on his bollocks massaging them, and what were her fingers doing? Were they moving towards his arse? His hips lifted in response, and his legs open wider while she ran her fingers back and forth.
He sounded like a wild beast because the pleasure so was so intense. Her finger went higher, and he tensed. No, his seed was going to spill before he was inside no, no.
In a maybe rough move, he pulled her away and reversed her position. Much better, now it was his mouth kissing her body, exploring and learning, her skin was softer than lamb's skin.
He suckled her nipples as he had seen her parents do. She was a delicacy. He pressed his naked sex against her rhythmically, while her hands caressed wherever she could reach. His lips went lower, and the need to taste her sex surprised him.
He opened her legs, and she offered herself to him. Gods, since he had never really looked at a female's private parts, seeing the wet folds was a sight he'd never forget. It was beautiful, a flower in bloom. He licked her sex a few times, and he moaned, she was, he was not sure what. He liked that she had very little hair, so exquisite.
His fingers touched the bump that he had read about and lightly pressed on it as he'd read. Then, two fingers went into his witch's slick channel, and to his delighted amazement, her body went taut.
Right then, he witnessed something he thought impossible. Oh yes, yes, he felt it around the fingers inside her channel, a witch's ecstasy, he'd read the name and had also believed it a lie.
This was the moment, so he climbed on top of her, his eyes on her face, glowing with affection and desire. Her tongue wetted her lips, and he could hear her hitched breath.
She wrapped her legs around him; she was puzzled about the feelings reflected on his face. Momentarily, she was nearly afraid of him.
Afraid for seconds, only until she felt his hot-heavy sex's broad head clumsily searching for access, "Will thou help me?"
She was narrow, and his patience was waning. It wasn't until much later that she'd remember his lapses into old English.
Her small hand wrapped around his cock to guide him. Hmm, he felt so hot, silky, and was very wet; the feel of his blood pulsing made her moan and lifted her hips higher. Her touch made his body shudder while his tongue traced paths on her neck, hungry for her.
His words sounded foreign to her, but she immersed herself in a sensual reality, the only sounds filtering were his moans and cries. All her body became his tool, the nimble fingers used for incantations and potion making, gave her much pleasure. His fingers went right over hers, wanting to follow the path and feel her body stretching for him.
His eyes wouldn't open, and he wanted to see, but pleasure had taken over his mind. In a slowly tortured thrust, he tried, but she was small, and he was big, too broad, it seemed an impossible task. Hermione was hesitating, it was hurting, but desire overwrote her concerns.
His body was wet with the effort, "Open witch, open more, I need thee, open wider, let me in, let me, I need thee around, don't close, let me," and he touched the point called 'the clit' again, in the manner indicated in the manual he had 'borrowed' at a seedy shop, too embarrassed to buy it.
It worked, another wave of pleasure rode her, and he was able to enter her. He stopped, wanting to feel her slick, pulsating channel all around him, it was so tight; paradise, this was it.
His mouth sought hers feverishly, biting, sucking, yet he wasn't moving, rapt in the sensations. Hermione squeezed his cock more with her muscles; it nearly hurt; her fingers still around the base, intensified the pleasure making his body arch.
"'Agh," he screamed, she was killing him. No matter, he just wanted the pleasure of being inside of her, of her warm live channel surrounding him. He wanted it to last.
With her feet around his bum, she urged him to move, wanting to feel more. "Move," she licked his neck and bit him.
"Lord, what is this, what are you doing," her fingers reached under his bollocks. He remembered about his pleasure points and moved to let her touch where she may, "Oh witch, my nymph, yes."
His hair now framing his face fell over her, touching her body. He was a wild angel. His thrusts started rough and wild; all his strength centered in feeling more, his cock full of nerve endings combined with true love aphrodisiac was a rushing pleasure experience.
His bollocks touched her with every thrust; he could hear the sounds her wet sex made with his cock, and both hands went around her breasts and squeezed. She was with him, and it was all that mattered and just held on.
Hermione never had sex like this. He was acting like all this was new. He was being a bit rough and was much larger than she could have thought, but still, it felt so... gods, it felt good, so stretched that she felt impaled. His face was a mask of lust, eyes heavy, lips open, she made him feel like this. He was beautiful in his passion and made her want to give him more.
The pressure around his cock was increasing, and he wasn't going to last. Finally, what he hadn't understood for weeks became clear to the evil dark wizard, he was going to kill his beloved, the only one that he had ever loved unless he could put an end to the curse.
He couldn't stop the pending climax, he wanted to last, but it came too soon; it moved along his spine, a snake of pleasure bitting its way, he moved faster, and she went. The pressure increased, and he roared his delight.
He couldn't hold his words, this was love, of the purest form, cracking the shell already hardened around him. He knew it, he understood, it was genuine, undiluted love.
"I love thee, love thee." He said over and over again between waves of pleasure, as his seed rushed out of him. It was an explosion of Spleasure inside her contracting sheath. The seed exploded out him, and all went black.
Hermione was horrified at his love declaration. It had a sobering effect, and she wanted to run away. His hair had fallen out the string keeping it tied, and she remembered, for years, gods, he was the dark angel at the battle, he had not aged one day.
He was the wizard at the stands during dueling matches, the one with the hooded robe. She could now see his face during all the last years; his covered hair had confused her. Today wasn't a casual encounter. Who was he? All she wanted was to be gone. Who was he? She kept asking herself.
Then she saw magic all around the suite, flying everywhere, what was this? Color sparks flying everywhere, oh dear, what was this? He was glowing, literary, and how did he know about her?
She had the feeling that he wasn't of this word; he had said far away? Who could glow like this, what kind of magic was his? Was he a demon, but that wasn't it. With some regret, she reminded herself that she wasn't free, and he wanted much more than she could give him.
She waited until he was soundly asleep to free herself, then moved from his body trapping hers and dressed quietly. She was in such a hurry that she didn't even clean the seed still dripping; she just wanted to leave.
When securing her shawl with a brooch, she pricked her finger and nearly yelped, but remembered to be silent and bent to look for it.
Something was telling her not to leave, a voice inside, maybe more of his power, "Stay, give him a chance..."
"No," she whispered and left, but before closing the door, she dried the tears that wouldn't stop.
'Humans never know what is best.' Vortex was annoyed with 'his' Hermione, this could have saved her. These events were unexpected; what now?' The Time Vortex ruminated from the box where it hid, wondering about the acts witnessed and was puzzled. Vortex hadn't seen this coming. Maybe that was why Salazar was looking so odd before. Now that she was gone, what? Was this a one time deal? Vortex hoped not.
a/n ? It would seem that Salazar created his own doom.