Chapter 14

HPOV

He carried me to a bathroom, neither his nor mine, that contained a large old-fashioned clawfoot tub perched ostentatiously in the middle of the room. He sat me on the counter by the sink and then started the magical tap. The water flowed freely from the silver spigot, but there were no pipes attached. My parents would get a real kick out of that.

He left the room for a moment, returning with a small bottle in his hand. He added a few drops from the bottle to the running bath water and the room filled with the delicate smell of lavender. He rolled the sleeves of his starched white shirt up over his elbows before lifting me from the counter and depositing me in the deliciously warm bath. The heat felt wonderful on my aching legs and lower back. It stung a little on my arse, reminding me of the wicked things that he had just done. Had he really just spanked and finger-fucked me of his own free will?

I once again encountered too many emotions to process. I felt exposed and violated. He invaded my mind and filtered through my most private thoughts. I was humiliated and terrified. I wanted things, sexual things, and it seemed immoral to want them. The experiences that I was craving felt in so many ways dirty and demeaning, but I wanted them anyway, and I was half disgusted with myself over it. I was a strong, bright, independent woman. Why did I crave his attention in this way?

"Lean back, Hermione." His voice was gentle but sure behind me. I did as he asked, and felt the tips of his fingers at the base of my neck. He knelt on the floor behind me, his hands and forearms reaching over the lip of the tub. "Relax, let me have control of your body," he said. "I promise you I will answer your questions, but I want to wash your hair first. Just keep breathing."

I followed his instructions and enjoyed the feel of the warm water on my shoulders as he tipped my head back and soaked my hair. I lost myself in his gentle ministrations as he shampooed my hair and massaged my scalp.

"That book," he started, bringing my focus back to him, "was a gift. I'm not sure that I've even read it all, although I have looked through it. I had forgotten that it was on the shelf. I have others that might interest you more. That one is not my favorite on the subject. The others are in my bedroom, however, so if you wish to read them, I will have to retrieve them for you."

"I did not mean to invade your privacy, Sir." I felt the need to apologize, but he limited my ability to speak, tilting my head back further and rinsing the soap from my hair.

"I know you didn't. I told you that you could have access to the books in the library. If I had remembered that it was there, I would have moved it."

"You moved the other ones?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"There are some things that I prefer to keep private in my life, Miss Granger. You are my former student, and if you did not have the particular inclination towards sex that you have, I doubt that you would have found knowledge about my sexual habits comforting. I also would prefer that the boy wonder and his side-kick remain blissfully ignorant."

"So it is your habit?"

"What is my habit?"

"Being a Dominant."

"It is my preference."

"Do you have a submissive?"

"Not at the moment."

"Why not?"

"You ask an extravagant number of questions."

I blushed. I knew that I did. I had done pretty well with restraining myself lately, but there were just so many things that I wanted to know. "I'm sorry, Sir. I'm just terribly curious."

"Hold your questions for a moment, and I will explain. When I'm finished you can ask a few more." He started at the ends of my hair, working a conditioner in and slowly working up to the roots.

"As you are aware, I have little free time. Relationships are not... easy, for me. Caring for a submissive, although pleasurable, is a lot of work. If my life was not what it is, I would consider collaring a sub, but that's not really a viable option right now. I am connected with other Dominants in the community who occasionally will lend me their submissives, or will come to me for training in a particular area."

He swished his wand as he spoke and a cup lifted from the sink and flew to his hand. From the corner of my eye I could see him enlarge it slightly before filling it with clean water from the tap to rinse my hair again. I tipped my head, so that the water would not fall into my eyes.

"The things that I saw in your mind suggest that you've formed a few incorrect assumptions. One book is hardly enough to give you a true understanding of a very complex lifestyle. I know that you have procured the bulk of your knowledge from books, but this is one area where I feel that experience is truly the best teacher."

I could see that. If I had discovered that book before he whipped me, I would probably have felt very differently about it.

"I do not want you to confuse this lifestyle however, with what you have experienced in the presence of the Dark Lord. What I do for that man and what I do in my playroom are not the same thing. They are not even related. To an outsider they may appear to be similar, but what happens in the Dark Lord's stronghold is rape and torture in its most base form. Never forget that, Hermione. That is not consensual or controlled. Its only purpose is the entertainment of a very sick man. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir." I answered. I did understand, and certainly I knew that these types of relationships needed to be built on trust. Consent was quite clearly not given for most of the women who went before Voldemort. I had consented though, and now I understood why it was so important to him. Knowing that he had my consent probably made it easier for him to feel like a Dom rather than a torturer.

He retrieved a soft washcloth from the rack and soaked it thoroughly before rubbing soap from another bottle into it. He was facing me now, having moved to the side of the tub. He started with my legs, touching me gently as he washed me. It felt wonderful, and I was amazed by how comfortable it was. I did not feel nearly as embarrassed as I thought I might.

"Tell me what appeals to you about what you have seen and experienced," he commanded.

I blushed again. The comfort that I had experienced only a moment ago dissipated. Could I really explain this? I had no idea where to start. I was only beginning to understand it in my own head.

"I asked you a question, Miss Granger," he stated when I didn't respond.

"I'm not sure how to answer, Sir. I'm afraid I haven't quite sorted it out in my own mind. It's an unusual feeling for me, but this information doesn't fall into the typical categories. I realize that I want things, and I feel like I shouldn't want them. It feels completely illogical."

"What do you want?" His hands moved steadily up my leg, caressing as much as washing my thigh.

"You know what I want. You've seen it in my head. Why do you ask me this? Are you trying to humiliate me?"

"No, sweet girl. I just want to hear you say it." Just then his long fingers came in contact with my core, and I understood. Just like he had asked for my consent, he was now asking permission. By telling him what I wanted, I was giving him the freedom to provide it.

His thumb brushed against my clit, and I rose up in the water to meet him. "Please," I whimpered.

"Tell me."

I closed my eyes. I was too embarrassed to look at him. I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks as he worked his fingers between my legs. "I want to feel that way again," I whispered.

I could feel his breath, cool against my neck. "What way?" His voice was barely audible.

"The way I felt when you were..." I couldn't breathe. I tried to still the rise and fall of my chest. "When you were... with the strap, I mean... in..." His fingers worked faster, and I dropped my head to the side uselessly against his shoulder. "I want... I want you to..." His other hand gently cupped my breast, and then I felt the warmth of his mouth on my hard nipple, and I cried out.

I curled my wet hands into fists around his starched white shirt, not caring that I was soaking his clothing or pulling him into the tub. I needed him, and nothing else mattered.

He lifted me out of the water and placed me on a towel on the hard tile floor. I had a moment to register the discomfort, but then his lean, strong body was stretched over mine, and it no longer mattered. He was gloriously naked, and I was never more thankful for the convenience of magic. I wrapped my legs around his waist, wanting desperately to feel his weight on top of me.

"Do you want me to fuck you, Hermione?" he growled in my ear. "Do you want my cock in your tight little cunt."

"Yes, please!" I cried. He moved so quickly and gracefully that I had no time to register the sensations. My wrists were encircled by unseen restraints and pulled tight above my head. I cried out at the loss. I wanted to touch him. His mouth was once again covering my breast as he moved my legs and tilted my hips.

"Such a needy little thing," he whispered. And then he was inside of me, and I could feel nothing but him.

He pinned me under his slight weight and began a steady rhythm that made my entire body cry out for release. I struggled against my restraints, but the harder I struggled the tighter they became. He repositioned me, taking control of my body, but it just wasn't enough.

"Shhhh." His voice was soft in my ear. "Relax, beautiful. Don't fight. Give in to me."

I couldn't help it. I needed more of him. I needed his mastery.

SPOV

She was magnificent. It had been my plan to simply bathe her and then sit her in front of the fire with a handful of books, but she was so fucking responsive. It was impossible to deny myself the pleasures of her body. I didn't try. She was incredibly hot and tight around me as I sheathed myself inside her. Knowing that she was giving herself to me willingly made me want to pleasure her beyond her deepest understanding.

The scenes from her fantasies played behind my eyelids as I rocked deep into her welcoming folds. To know that it was not just the pleasure that she craved but the submission and discipline as well overwhelmed me.

She fought hard against her restraints and writhed on the hard floor. I smiled down at her struggling form. She didn't yet understand that fighting would only prolong the torture. I rested my body over hers, still supporting most of my weight on my arms, but using my chest to restrict her movements. Her breathing was shallow and erratic. I could feel her heart beat wildly as I cupped her breast in my hand and ran the pad of my thumb over her pebbled nipple. I slowed my pace and gave her more shallow thrusts. She moaned and shifted her hips trying to take me deeper.

I chuckled into her neck. She was fighting so hard for what I could so easily give her if she would just relax and let me push her over. "Listen to me, dear one. I want you to surrender. Trust me. Give me control."

She stilled a little more this time, her hips rocking sensually against mine, adapting to my rhythm instead of clashing with me. "Yes, that's right."

"Please, Sir," she begged. "I need... I can't..." I loved her incoherent ramblings. It made me so hard to see such a brilliant, articulate young woman become so lost in sensation that she was reduced to unintelligible pleading.

I pushed forward, giving her more of my cock. She let out the sexiest little whimper as I filled her. "That's my good girl. Take it all."

I fucked her with deep, slow strokes. I wanted her to feel my possession of her, inch by inch. I wanted her to hear my voice in her head every time she even thought about sex. "Is this what you need, you greedy little slut?" She was wreaking havoc on my normally firm self-control with her young, firm body and her desperate cries.

Never had a woman had so much of an effect on me. I accelerated the pace, giving her the friction and force that she needed. Her whole body trembled under me. I could feel her tight pussy clamping down around me, and I knew that she wasn't far from orgasm. I wouldn't hold out much longer either. "You belong to me," I growled, pounding her into the unforgiving floor.

"Please," she cried out as I held her still and fucked her mercilessly.

"Say it, Hermione. Tell me that you belong to me. You're mine."

"I'm yours," she panted. "Yours, Sir."

I bit down hard at the juncture between her shoulder and her graceful neck, marking her as mine. "Come for me. I want to feel you fall apart around my cock." Three powerful thrusts later, she did as I asked and bathed my cock with her wet heat. I let the power of her orgasm give me my own, and I released my seed deep inside of her.

Half an hour later I lay awake, alone in my bed. She might have been mine tonight, but I knew that it was temporary. Eventually she would need to leave my house and go back to school, on to work, or most likely off to fight the war. I didn't like the tightening sensation that I felt in my chest when I thought about that last option. She was a strong woman with a formidable mind and wand. The Order would undoubtedly need her.

I had two options really. I could put an end to this nonsense now, fulfill my role to The Order and the Dark Lord and keep her at arms length in my house. Or, I could give in to this temporary arrangement, using her for my pleasure for however long she stayed with me.

Knowing how stubborn she was, I didn't think that she'd be okay with going back to just being my kidnapped houseguest and lab partner. She had a thirst for knowledge and experience that was unparalleled. Now that she had gotten a tiny glimpse into this world, she would be unstoppable. She would become a submissive regardless of my actions, of that I was sure. It was only a matter of time before she found a Dom. I was first in line for the role, and I needed to determine if I was willing to accept the position.

I was an extremely possessive man, and I knew that about myself. I did not look forward to training her, shaping her into an object of my fantasy, and then losing her. I knew other Doms in the community that would be happy to have her when I was finished with her training, but the mental picture of her crying out under the body of another Dom did not sit well with me. I did not share.

Did I want a submissive? I rolled the question around in my mind. I had a lot of experience as a Dom, admittedly much of it was forced under the reign of the Dark Lord, but my experience was limited primarily to single sessions with a wide variety of submissives. I had collared only one other consistent sub and that arrangement had lasted only three months. My life was not particularly well suited for the management of a submissive. Miss Granger was an unusual exception as she was gifted to me by the Dark Lord and required to live in my home. Not having to hide this relationship from either side was incredibly helpful. I was not endangering her with my very presence as I would most others. She was a target with or without me. If anything, she had a greater chance of staying alive while she was with me.

In the end it came down to what I wanted. I wanted her physically, of that I had no doubt, but, was I willing to also accept the responsibility to care for her as all Doms cared for their subs? I forced myself to sleep some time later, the decision still looming in my mind.