I dont own any of the Harry Potter characters
--
She sat for several moments, a smile on her face that refused to go away, before she stood up, placing the spoon lightly on the soft material of her pillow, and stripping down to her knickers in mere moments, pulling the soft silk over her head and feeling it caress her skin lightly. She shivered, feeling almost as though it were Godric, his hands sliding over his skin so softly, with the same supple ease that had always made her feel so contented, so satisfied... she sighed, sliding under the sheets as she ran her hand lightly over the material, absently wishing it was him..
--
Godric felt a slight tingle on his side and immediately stood up, putting his glass down and claiming that he needed an early night. Sirius looked at him worriedly, while the others simply nodded vague goodnights and continued on with their conversations. With a feeling of anticipation growing in his stomach, tying itself into knots and churning his innards, he raced up the stairs towards his room, flicking his wand at the door, which was instantly locked and silenced. His legs shook as the slight tingle that had crept over his side slid over his chest, tracing lightly down his stomach, and back up again, a sensual feeling that made his eyes close in pleasure.
Had he known his plan would work this well, with so little resistance, he might well have locked himself in here as soon as Hermione had headed up the stairs, and yet he was delighted to be proved wrong, to have this small, silent confirmation that she was not, as she might have him believe, completely over him. He sat himself down on the bed, breathing harsh as the pleasant sensation increased in pressure, becoming a much more insistent and strong movement which drifted in circles down to his crotch, which was suddenly bare as some invisible force pushed the offending jeans and boxers from his body, sliding them to his ankles.
Godric might have smiled at his own genius, were it not for the fact that suddenly that prior, gradual increase of pressure suddenly intensified tenfold as it concentrated on the steadily growing hardness of his member. He hissed sharply, feeling the wonderful and yet horrifying urge to pull himself away, yet he knew he couldn't and was glad for it as what could have been a phantom finger began to trace up and down his length, trailing over his tip and sparking another reaction from him. There was a few moments of gentle finger strokes, then a repeated rubbing of circles into the sensitive tip. He let out a whimper of shock, hands grasping the sheets as it went on, pleasure creeping up on him, and yet for some reason, what would usually have resulted in a crashing climax that left him gasping for breath, was building up only to a frustration that seemed to duplicate with every brush against his skin. He'd never known a time when he could not orgasm, and this sudden experience was unwelcome. He damned himself to hell for being so stupid, to make a spell that timed his own pleasure to hers; if she couldn't come, then he'd probably die of frustration- how exactly did women manage this frustration with men of incompetence? At least for a man, orgasm was a guaruntee, a given; how did they handle that horrible, frustrating shake that would, sometimes, lead to an orgasm, but at others remained an annoyance, a mild irritation?
The pace of the strokes of his length increased, and he groaned, praying to the heavens that this time he would reach that pinnacle of pleasure, and be able to crash down onto his pillow, at least remotely sated.
--
Hermione groaned in annoyance, her hand working furiously, attempting to bring herself to an orgasm that proved elusive; she stroked her clit, she plunged her fingers within herself, and still it eluded her, leaving her feeling more incensed and angry than she could remember being in years. She could see Godric's face in her minds eye, his eyes closed, mouth open in pleasure as she rode him... and yet there was nothing, she couldn't reach it. She imagined Ron, Remus, even Harry, but they were even less successful than with Godric. She sobbed with annoyance, frustration and pent up desire, and wished more than anything to simply plod to Godric's room and throw herself at him... The idea made her wet, and even more aroused, and so she shoved it away, pleading with herself not to give in...
--
Godric's eyes rolled back into his head, and suddenly he sat bolt upright, pulling his jeans upright and holding them there, attempting to fight his own spell as he fumbled with the door handle and staggered through it, walking with a grimace towards Hermione's room, his head spinning, the pleasure and frustration still coursing through his veins, tingling sensations on his chest and crotch as he attempted to climb the stairs, agonisingly slowly as he tried to ignore the fact he felt as though there was a hand wrapped tightly around his member.
On reaching the door to her room, he stopped suddenly, looking at the wooden frame, the metal handle, and the dust that was gathered around it. He wondered vaguely how she would take it, whether she'd slap him in the face or jump on him and have him take her against the wall... he felt a twitch, the same frustration as he had been feeling for what felt like an age, and suddenly realized that whether she was angry or ecstatic, in that very moment, he couldn't care less.
His wand was pointed at the door in moments and the lock clicked out of place. The handle turned and he pushed the door open, looking at the woman sprawled out on the bed, her hand buried within herself and her eyes closed as she whimpered. Hermione didn't notice him, didn't realize that his eyes glittered with a lust so deep and feral they could have ignited forest fires with the blaze that burnt within their depths. His eyes raked down her near-naked body, and in that moment he thought he might explode.
"Stop touching yourself this second," he said, his voice gravelly and thick with desire, "or take me to your bed and let me show you what the fuck an orgasm is!"
It was hard to read her expression from across the room; it was dark, and so the only features of her face that he could really see were the bright eyes that glittered at him from within the room. Godric didn't wait to read it himself; he shut the door behind him, locking it with a shaking hand, then managed to half-stumble and half-walk over to the bed, bracing himself for an earth-quaking slap across his face as he bent over her, arms on either side of her face, his breath, heavy and harsh, falling on her flushed skin.
The pain and anger he was expecting didn't come. Instead, a hand snaked it's way around his neck, pulling his mouth down to hers in a feral kiss that unnerved him as much as it thrilled him.
A moment later, her other hand, formerly buried within her own body, was trailing sensuously over his lower back as it pushed up the hem of his shirt. He hissed his approval, his tongue pushing into her mouth in searching desperation, flicking it against hers and savouring the lovely moan that left her questing lips.
"Please..." she whimpered, "oh Merlin, Godric, please!"
"Shh," he murmured, his hand stroking her hair from her face as his lips eased gently over her jaw and towards her ear. "Stop begging, and answer me one, simple question."
She looked him in the eyes, her gaze hot on his. "Ok..."
He kissed her fiercely, plundering her mouth with his tongue while one hand trailed over her nightie, giving her breast a firm squeeze which elicited a loud gasp. "Do you love me?" he asked softly, pressing his erection into her and twisting her face to gaze into her eyes. "Tell me, in all honesty, if you love me."
She looked terrified, and he felt half guilty for bringing it up... and yet he needed to know, he needed closure on the question he thought he knew the answer to, and yet couldn't ever be sure until he heard it himself, heard those three words.
Hermione was moaning, writhing beneath him and attempting to pull him towards her. He held back, shaking his head. "Do you love me?" He repeated slowly.
She sobbed, looking away and nodding almost imperceptibly. His heart leapt. "Say it..." he whispered. "Please... just let me hear you say it..."
Looking at him, she stroked his forehead and cheek tenderly, caressing his skin lightly. "I love you, Godric.." tears slipped from beneath her eyelids, and he bent to kiss them away, swiping them with his tongue and whispering to her lovingly.
"You're beautiful... perfect... incredible..." his kisses fell with love on her skin, paying tribute to every moment he thought of her, every ounce of love and emotion he held locked away in his heart seemed to flow into her being from his, and he didn't attempt to stop it. The silk nightie and his own clothes wound up discarded on the bedroom floor as they embraced alternately fiercely and gently.
"Do you want me?" he whispered softly, positioned at her entrance.
"You only said one question.."
He grinned. "I lied." He kissed her softly. "Want me?"
She smiled. "Yes."
Godric gently rubbed her nose with his own, eyes half-lidded as he felt her breath on his face. "I... it's been a long time..."
Hermione's eyes looked sad, and she nodded slowly. "I know. I'm sorry."
"No," he shook his head, "don't be. I needed it... if only to see how much I really do love you..."
She kissed him softly, both hands cupping his face. "Then show me."
Godric grinned helplessly, teeth glinting in the vague light, his face crinkling into a smile that warmed the features of his face, to the point that Hermione thought her stomach might well melt into nothingness. "I will," he promised, lips seeking hers softly. For several moments, they held each other, kissing with no other motive than to feel the other. Then, eventually, he pulled back briefly, eyes questioning as he moved his hips ever so slightly, touching her with the tip of his manhood briefly, before raising an inquisitive eyebrow.
"Now?"
She nodded, smiling. "Now."
--
"That was heaven," she whispered, stroking a line down his chest with her hand, feeling his pectorals lift as his lungs heaved, heart pounded, and his breath tried to steady itself.
He smiled. "I don't think heaven will ever do that justice!"
Hermione kissed him, unable to erase the smile that played across her lips. She agreed, whole heartedly. Nothing could ever measure up to that feeling of need, love and desire, rolled into one crystallized block in her stomach, which had dissolved at the first thrust of his hips, and erased all reason from her mind. Her want to go slow and be gentle, to treasure every moment which they shared in this timeless embrace, was erased in seconds by a lust and need for release so strong that they had been grinding into one another so erratically and uncontrollably that it seemed almost laughable that they could even have considered going slow.
Godric nuzzled her neck gently, his lips caressing her pulse briefly before he spoke to her. "I missed you, Sunrise."
Her fingers ran through his hair as she nodded briefly. "I missed you too."
Lifting his head briefly, he met her eyes. "I feel like I should apologize..." he whispered. "For... well... for most things... things that happened between us were... unreasonable and... and I should have been more mature about it..."
She rolled her eyes. "You were more mature than me! Now shut up and spoon me!" The playful smile on her face made him want to turn her over and start their reunion all over again, but he resisted, rolling her lightly onto her side and pressing himself flush against her back, his arm around her waist, head resting lightly on her shoulder.
"I love you," he whispered in her ear, eyes closed as he inhaled her smell, kissing lightly along the lobe of her ear. His hand found hers, and she squeezed it gently, turning her head slightly.
"I love you too."
Godric smiled, closed his eyes, and was drifting off to sleep in moments, contentment spreading to his toes, warming him from the inside at the feel of her enfolded in his arms.
--
He wasn't there when she awoke, and it was hard not to feel a pinch of annoyance given their last exchanged words, and yet she tried, in a failed attempt at bravery, to disguise her depression, perhaps even heartbreak, as she pulled on a baggy t-shirt and jeans, sliding her feet into fluffy slippers, before heading down to the kitchen, sniffling sadly.
--
Godric was sat beside Sirius, a small grin affixed firmly in place as he flicked aimlessly through the newpaper, not noting or caring which words drifted between his ears as he reflected joyfully on the events of the past evening. He looked up whenever the door opened, and he felt disappointed everytime a red-head, or a mane of hair that was not Hermiones, appeared.
He'd wanted so desperately to stay with her, and part of him wondered why it was he hadn't. And yet, it seemed odd to expect anything of her after that night, because after all, her opinions were still as in place as ever; he was a thousand years her senior in the present day, and it was in all likelihood that he would leave one day and never return. He understood, and he tried to abide by her previous wishes when he left that morning, without even kissing her forehead. He sighed wistfully, just as the door opened, and Hermione entered wearing jeans and t-shirt which hung from her body and covered everything he had had the good fortune to see the previous evening.
Sirius didn't miss the fact that Godric was suddenly alert and upright as Hermione entered, and nor did he miss the look of hurt on her face as she looked at Godric so very uncharacteristically. He noticed, and yet he did not acknowledge it, deciding instead to pretend as though nothing was strange. In moments, however, he changed his mind, and retreated from the room before Hermione pierced his chest with her gaze.
Godric looked at her uneasily. "Are you ok?" He said tersely, immediately regretting it.
"OK? OK?" Hermione glared at him. "Oh I'm fine! Perfect in fact! Never better!"
Godric held up his hands mockingly. "No need to be so touchy about it!"
"TOUCHY? YOU THINK THIS IS TOUCHY! YOU FUCKING ARSEHOLE! YOU ABSOLUTE PRICK! YOU INCONSIDERATE, COWARDLY, LEECH! YOU.."
"I was just doing what I thought you wanted!" Godric retorted, standing up and supporting himself on the table, waving his arm for emphasis. "You've been telling me how you wanted out of it, how I was nothing and there was no point in me sticking around, and now.."
"Now what? You got your shag so that's it? All done now are you, finished? Came too soon so scarpered before the girl woke up is that it?"
Godric gritted his teeth, gripping the table with whitened knuckles. "As far as I recall, you weren't complaining about my performance last night!"
She glared at him angrily. "You can't just get up and leave Godric! How dare you enter my room and take what you came for, get me to say things I never wanted to say, and not stay long enough to even explain things!"
"I was simply trying to make things easier! After all the heartache you gave me before, I didn't think you'd really mind if I didn't stick around to make things awkward!"
"Not mind? How could you think I wouldn't mind? You evil, cowardly, horrible... grrr!"
"Hermione," Godric said bluntly, "if you want me, I'm yours. Just say so."
"I..." she appeared dumbstruck, and he rolled his eyes.
"Right. I'll see you later." As he went to leave however, her hand caught his arm.
"No!" She said squeakily, then blushed, looking down at the floor. Godric looked at her inquisitively, and when she didn't answer him, he tilted her head up to his, meeting her eyes deliberately before taking a further step towards her, his breath warm on her face as he spoke to her.
"Do you want me?" he whispered. Only this time, it was not a question in the heat of passion, nor a plea for command or dominance; it was a question of ownership, of exclusivity and of love. They both knew it, and it was clear from the look in her eyes she had no doubts as to her answer, and yet even so she hesitated, as though searching for an arguement, a reason to avoid answering. When none came, he cupped her face lightly in his and pressed his own lips to hers lightly, easing their mouths together before briefly sucking on her upper lip.
"Is that a yes?" He asked when he pulled away, listening intently to the slight hitch of her breath.
"Yes..."
--
So I know this took ages...
explanation? Well, there is one I'll have you know!
I'm recovering from a broken wrist at the moment -no, it was not a result of any kind of 'action' as my boyfriend likes to suggest. I messed up a back handspring, and completely crumpled all of my weight onto my right hand, and so, this has taken a ridiculous amount of time to write, and I wouldn't be surprised if it was my worst chapter ever written. But really, typing with your left hand only when you're right handed is a real bummer!
But, there you go. They're sorted...
now, how do I split them up...?
:P
Reviews?
Mage of the Heart