A/N: Chapter title from Kahlil Gibran's The Prophet.
Thank you to Mih for the encouragement and being great person to bounce plot ideas back and forth with.
Thank you to Reyahtess for consultation services and expertise.
Thank you to the inspiring Loch Ness Monster, reminding me to "buck up" and set up some writing sprints for me.
And thank all of you for your patience with me
/
She awoke to cool lips pressed against her forehead. The room and the sky outside the window were still dark. She had no idea what time it was.
"Fleur? Where are you going?" Hermione sleepily asked.
"Shh, go back to sleep, mon amour. I will be back."
The Gryffindor didn't have it in her to ask more questions. She was exhausted. The day had worn her out emotionally, physically, magically, and mentally. The fatigue seeped all the way into her bones; her body laid heavy on the mattress. Her lover secured the duvet around her before walking to the door and exiting the room.
Although they had been working on increasing the distance they could tolerate being away from each other, her chest still ached when Fleur left. Although it was bearable, it was still an ever-present reminder that her mate was not close enough. She closed her eyes and tried to push the feeling down, but it was as if the bond rebelled in response and she felt a wave of anguish wash over her.
"Fuck," she whispered into the darkness.
Hermione inhaled and exhaled deeply, in a failed attempt to self-soothe. Another method, then. She thought back to earlier in the evening when she and Fleur had engaged in the partner practice. Still keeping an even and steady pace to her breathing, she tried to access the peace, connection, and tranquility she had experienced. That night's practice had been difficult initially. With everything that had happened during the day she had felt fearful revealing herself further to the blonde.
After what had occurred in the forest she felt she couldn't trust herself to let her guards down. She had to hold back. She couldn't risk letting that part of her out again. Open hands clenched into closed fists as she willed herself to remain in control.
'Ma lionne, you need to trust,' Fleur's voice echoed in her head.
Trust? How could she trust? Who could she trust? Fleur and her Veela told her to trust her own instincts and she had almost hurt the blonde. Almost…. She felt an ice-cold chill travel down her spine, wrap around her ribs, and sink inward to her core at the very idea. She couldn't allow that to ever happen again. She would do everything in her power to shut down the growing urges and thoughts within her. They were so out of character for her, so intense and visceral, that they scared her. She had almost lost control. If she couldn't trust herself, how could Fleur possibly trust her?
'Where do you feel it?' Fleur asked knowingly. She was getting better at reading the Gryffindor. 'What do you feel?'
"It's in my chest. And in my gut. It feels tight and cold. I-I don't know how else to explain it," the brunette spoke aloud in a pained voice.
She felt the current of magic running through them slow. It seemed to be buzzing through her veins, from her lungs with every breath, to her heart in each and every thrum, coursing through her abdomen, spreading down her arms to the tips of her fingers, down her legs to her toes, and back again. It rolled over the inner walls of her skull, licked over her tongue, filled her throat and dropped to her chest. With each exhale it reached out and into the blonde from the center of her chest, and it was there too where she felt her mate's essence enter into her. Her lungs would fill, and the circuit continued. But every now and then Fleur would shift it, just as she was doing in this moment. Hermione felt Fleur's magic channel to where she had described what she was experiencing. It warmed and pulsed, expanding and overtaking the gripping clutch of cold fear inside her. She saw blue. She smelled flowers. She tasted faint honey on her tongue. She felt safe.
They continued. Fleur's magic finally coaxed her into opening up. They shared rushing images, memories, emotions. Where one would feel vulnerable the other would provide strength, light, and compassion. When one felt joy and love, it was shared with her mate and they would surrender to it together. When they were finished they walked away calmer, more connected, stronger, and ready for whatever would come next.
The emptiness within her began to lessen, but not as much as she would have liked. She rolled from her side onto her back and held her hands to her sternum, applying pressure as if to push out the hollow throbbing from her chest. The transcendental partner strengthening practice had helped her cope with these feelings, but now that she was alone they were creeping back in.
Fleur had reassured her, with her magic and with her words, that Hermione had done nothing wrong. She had even told her she liked it, but Fleur didn't know about the impulses, and the extent to which they were driving Hermione to go further, to not stop. To what ends, Hermione wasn't sure, but she felt like an animal. A predator. Even worse was the fact that she had liked it too, and she was disgusted with herself for it.
Fleur's body went rigid when Hermione announced her presence. This pleased her. I should take her now. Hermione hesitated at the thought. She said to earn her. Fleur's smug looks and smirks flashed through her mind, and before she could think about it again, Hermione pounced.
The Gryffindor grimaced as she thought about the scene. She didn't have to take it that far, but she felt she couldn't help it. At the time it felt like the only course of action that made sense.
She was on top of Fleur in an instant, but not for long. Their bodies tumbled across the forest floor, carried by the momentum of Hermione's lunge. They wrestled and rolled down a small grassy slope, one body atop the other, and then reverse, again, again. Hermione's heart was pounding wildly against her ribs, she could hear the blood rush in her ears, her lungs burned from the chase and attack, and her body was riled up with an urgency she could not place. And she liked it.
Everything was more. Fleur's lavender scent now had hints of some other floral, and was thick enough to taste. Honeysuckle. It wrapped itself around the brunette and invaded her senses pleasurably. She stuck her face into her mate's neck and inhaled. Fleur's skin, though now slightly marred with scattered scrapes and marks of dirt, felt like silk with taught muscles at the ready underneath. Hermione claimed the dominant position once again and pressed the blonde down forcefully beneath her, groaning at the feel of the woman pushing back, and delighting in Fleur's wince of pain. And then she was scared.
Hermione covered her face in shame. She was a monster. How could she have enjoyed attacking her mate? Enjoyed Fleur's struggle, Fleur's pain? Why did she behave in such a bestial way? The Veela did nothing to deserve that, and had never been that way with Hermione. Their bond should make them want to protect each other and unite, not harm and hurt, and especially not permit her pleasure from her mate's pain. Fleur had been Hermione's safe place in the past and now in the present, so why did the brunette feel compelled to physically dominate her so? She'd never laid a hand on a woman before, or exerted force over anyone physically or magically, except when her life had depended on it in the war. She never hurt anyone outside of the vicious battles she endured not too long ago, except for Malfoy of course. But he definitely deserved that. She had no regrets. But this? What happened today was not ok. Not ok at all.
"Fleur! I'm sorry, I don't know why I did that! I'm so sorry, I-" Hermione sat up and started to back away, crossing her hands in front of herself to keep them at bay. To keep them from their assault.
But when she looked down she saw eyes black. A panting, open-mouthed Fleur was looking up at her with a familiar expression. Hermione breathed in. Floral and lust. She knew Fleur's arousal well by now. Her body's response was immediate: heartbeat thundering, a heat in the pit of her stomach, blood rushing lower still and the clouding of her mind that made the distinction between want and logic blur.
"Do not stop, ma lionne," the Veela pleaded beneath her.
With the exception of her eyes, Fleur was untransformed, yet there was an inhuman tone laced into her voice that called to something inside of Hermione. As if sensing she still needed encouragement, the Veela sat up as much as she could with Hermione still on top of her, and gently reached out one hand to caress and cup the Gryffindor's face. She softly pressed her lips against the brunette's, a sharp contrast to what had just taken place. Blue eyes returned, but the gentle hand became firm as it grasped Hermione's jaw.
"You have to earn me, as I told you. Do you remember that?"
Hermione nodded silently.
"I will tell you if I do not appreciate what you are doing. Do you trust me to do that?" Excitement glinted in Fleur's eyes.
Hermione nodded again, allowing some of the thrill to return to her.
"Follow your instincts, mon cœur." The Veela smirked and then leaned forward to nip at the brunette's lower lip.
Black eyes returned and Fleur's hand dropped from Hermione's face to the center of her chest, and she lightly pushed the younger witch. The Gryffindor's immediate reaction was to push back, grab Fleur's hands then pin them down. Adrenaline coursed through her as Fleur tried to yank her hands free to escape, and the struggle to maintain the upper hand continued. Hermione pressed her face to her mate's mark, inhaled through her nose, long lick, sharp bite. The cry that Fleur let out was invigorating and Hermione lost herself in the smell, taste, feel and sound of the woman beneath her. Taking advantage of the moment, the blonde freed herself with a check of her hip and a quick turn. Fleur was able to get to her hands and knees to begin to scramble away, an airy and victorious laugh flowing from her as she cast a smirking glance over her shoulder at the Gryffindor.
Hermione felt a fire within her. She couldn't let the blonde get away. Not since she was so close. So close to what exactly, she didn't know, but she didn't dwell on it. She sprang to her feet with a lascivious grin and went after her prey. Her eyes were focused on Fleur's back and she watched as feathers began to erupt. Soon enough she saw wings beginning to emerge from skin and muscle, pushing high then extending outward. Breathtaking.
"Fuck," the younger witch muttered as she realized Fleur's plan.
She would not let the blonde escape. Sneakers kicked up leaves and dirt as each step dug into the ground while she sprinted forward, forward, as fast as she could. Her breathing was hard, her arms swung at her sides, her speed picked up. Heart beat. Heart beat. Heart beat. Fleur had risen to her feet now and was running too, a bit ungainly but Hermione knew she had to catch up quickly before the Veela took to the air. Vast powerful wings began to shake white feathers ready. They drew downward and upward in preparation for flight, but Hermione wouldn't let her get away. Not again when she was so close, not this time. Perspiration prickled on her skin, drops of sweat ran down her back, lungs burned. She wouldn't let her get away, not this time, not this time, Fleur was hers . Hers to claim, to catch, and to make submit. She would earn her, take her- her prize for winning the hunt. The beating of Fleur's wings grew louder, faster, and she started to rise into the air.
It was her last chance and Hermione felt confident. She had gained ground and before the Veela could ascend too high, Hermione lunged forward. She reached out and grabbed Fleur by her hips to pluck her brutally from her flight. She brought them both down to the forest floor, the blonde landing hard on her stomach and the brunette just behind her. Hermione rose to her knees gasping. She wanted to revel in her triumph, but her magic urged her to continue; told her the victory was not yet won. She dove and sprawled on top of the woman, using one hand pressed firmly between her shoulder blades and the weight of her body to keep Fleur from rising again.
In this position, with Fleur at her mercy beneath her, after fighting for her, Hermione felt exhilarated. She rocked her hips forward, hardened erection pressing against the Veela's firm backside, and let out a low and satisfied moan.
Hermione tossed the covers off and sat up. Shoulders were hunched, and her breath was heavy and difficult under the burden of guilt. She shouldn't have done what she did. It was violent. She was violent. She could have injured Fleur when she yanked her down to the ground. Hermione was vulgar, disrespectful, and let unfamiliar base desires and instincts take control. Where was her conscience when this happened? She was fully present, was she not? But how could Hermione, in a clear state of mind, ever allow herself to want this or to behave in such a way?
"Damn it," she whispered to the empty room.
The hunt had aroused her. Recounting it in her mind was turning her on as well. Watching Fleur run, following her scent, seeing the apprehension, and feeling the fight against her, all had unexpectedly sent her body into a hot and needy state. She felt embarrassed about it now, but couldn't stop her body's betrayal. Blood and heat flowed into her cock and she wrapped her hands around her member through her pajama pants. She willed it to go down, but she was unable to combat that growing beast within her that delighted in the memory of the pursuit. She couldn't help but jut her hips forward as she recalled what she had done. Fleur had wanted it though. She had begged for more , she tried to rationalize. She slipped her hands under the waistband. She felt guilty touching herself now, yes, but she couldn't help it.
Hermione leaned forward, unclothed chest to the Veela's back, and pressed harder into Fleur. She needed more, and something inside her told her there was something more she was supposed to do, she just wasn't sure what. The younger witch slipped both arms around the blonde's waist and continued to grind herself relentlessly against her conquest. It felt good, but it was missing the relief she thought she would get from capturing her mate.
"Please," Fleur gasped out as she rocked herself back in time with Hermione.
The brunette stilled and returned to her logical mind, concerned she had hurt her mate. What the fuck am I doing? She began to retract herself from Fleur but the Veela quickly grabbed her hand and looked back at her.
" Je t'implore, ma lionne. Do not stop! Do not stop," Fleur seemed to be almost crying for Hermione to continue.
The Gryffindor was hesitant at first, but her heart pounded against its confines in wild desire, and her dick throbbed with need. She resumed more gently, laying atop Fleur with care, hands and forearms planted on the ground as she began a slow rhythm against the woman underneath her. She felt her hands, arms, legs shaking, her body tensed, as she restrained herself as much as she could to avoid losing control. She wanted more... more…... more…. but she wasn't sure of what. Slow, slow, slow, she would take her time and fight against the gluttony of her lust. But Fleur wasn't having it. She pushed her hips back seductively, creating more friction, trying to speed up the timing of Hermione's movements.
"Fuck." Hermione's nails dug into the dirt.
"Please," the begging came again.
Fleur slid her hands over Hermione's and guided them to her hair. It took a moment but Hermione understood. She wove her fingers through blonde locks. Fleur growled, but did not let go of the brunette. Hermione clasped her fingers tighter, tugging at the Veela's tresses as she ground down onto her more roughly. Fleur's growl turned into a whine and her hands dropped from her mate's. Hermione continued tugging her hair, encouraged by the responses from the blonde, and pushed with her forearms and legs against the forest floor to grind into and pin the helpless woman down.
"Do it!" Fleur cried out. "You know what to do." She moaned as Hermione jerked her hips against her again. "Just, take it. Claim me. You earned it," the Veela gasped out, disappearing her wings. "Please."
There it was again. The plea. Hermione wasn't sure what to do. Her blood, her heart, her magic, her bones were driving her to fulfill something she couldn't name. Then Fleur reached around and pushed her hair aside to expose her mark, tilted her neck to expose more flesh. Submission. Hermione felt something reverberate from within, growing until instinct eclipsed logic. She pulled Fleur's hair to angle her head further to the side, giving her more access to her neck, to her mark. To the mark Hermione gave her. Teeth ached, her body was thrumming, she inhaled her mate through her nose and descended upon the bared flesh with a determined and possessive bite.
"Damn it," Hermione cried out, exasperated.
Her body wouldn't let her hold back. She was firmly stroking her cock as she recalled the way Fleur had let her, begged her, to dominate her. To mark her again. Fleur trusted her, wanted her, surrendered to her. That pleasure-pain sound that came from her Veela's mouth when Hermione bit her was almost enough to make her come undone at the time. And now it just spurred her on further. She pulled her pants off and leaned back against the headboard. Her cheeks were flushed with guilt, but she hungered for more. Her hands kept stroking, her held tilted back, mouth open, and she gave in and let her mind continue its revisit to their earlier tryst.
Hermione flipped Fleur onto her back after unclasping her bra and then pulled it off. She spread the blonde's legs and pushed her hardened member against her again. Fleur's hands were everywhere. In Hermione's hair, running down her back, traveling over her breasts, and to her back again. She wove her fingers back through blonde tresses and white plumage, hovered her face over the Veela's mark, and let her mouth work and worship the sacred spot. Fleur squirmed and sighed before grabbing the hem of Hermione's pants and tugging at them impatiently.
"Take these off and fuck me," the Veela demanded.
Hermione didn't like that. She felt herself nearly growl in response. Fleur had no right to tell her what to do. Fleur was hers in this moment, and not the other way around. Hermione had earned this.
"I won the chase!" Hermione reprimanded as she grabbed Fleur's wrists and tore them from her pants. "I will enjoy and use my reward as I see fit!"
She gasped, instantly feeling horrified at the words and tone that came from her mouth. She loosened her grip on her mate. Fleur must have seen her horror, she dropped her hands to Hermione's thighs and began to rub soothing circles on them.
"Yes, you are right. Tu as gagné. You won. You are in charge," the Veela said earnestly. Feathers began to vanish. Black eyes changed to dark blue.
Hermione felt a growing panic. Her stomach was in knots. She felt a nausea creeping up through her chest. Had she been forcing Fleur this whole time? Did Fleur think she owed Hermione? She started to fear it was only the Veela half that had been enjoying their game and this final act.
"I want this, just like this," her mate reassured.
Gone were any signs of the inner Veela. It was just her and Fleur. Sky blue met amber brown, and the blonde nodded her head.
"I want this. And when you take me this way, when you claim me so, I can feel your hunger for me. Your need. And it makes me feel good, Hermione. It does. Do not stop. Please, keep doing what feels right."
She was apprehensive, but there was a swell within her chest and heat between her legs that pushed her over. She would resume, but she would still be the one in charge. She took Fleur's arms and pushed them to the ground above her head. They locked eyes, blue turned black met fierce brown, and without words the Veela seemed to understand the tacit command. Don't move.
Hermione worked her pants undone, slid them down her legs and kicked them off. Her briefs were tented with her hardon and she stroked herself through the fabric. The brunette climbed between the open and waiting legs before her and took in the dark mark of wet arousal on Fleur's panties. Her mouth began to salivate. One hand splayed upon the blonde's lower stomach, and the other reached forward and hovered over Fleur's covered center. Brown eyes flicked upward to meet black and held the gaze for several breaths before looking back down. Without further hesitation she grabbed the panties with both hands, swiftly pulled to rip them apart, and climbed on top of her mate once again. She set a brusque and desperate pace with her hips, cock firm against the hot center.
Fervid noises erupted from them both. Hermione couldn't tell them apart. Her hands were digging into Fleur, and nails were grasping at her back. Teeth claimed whatever skin came close, becoming more and more voracious by the second.
"Please, please," the only coherent words Hermione could pick out of Fleur's utterings. And then, "fuck me, please, I need you inside."
Reason and restraint began to break within the Gryffindor. She wants me, she needs me, inside. She reached between their bodies and in a moment she removed her cock from its confines to run its length against the wet slit of Fleur's core. Merlin. It was as sweet as she had remembered that first time and she hadn't even entered the woman yet. Hermione earned this. She would take it.
Hermione stilled her hands when she remembered her almost-betrayal. She had almost gone further; almost given in to the wanton pleas and tantalizing pleasure of Fleur. She had wanted to, and she thought she was going to enter her, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. Images of their conversation earlier in the day flooded her mind; they were going to take their time. In a more clear headed state they had agreed to take their time. They had already made the mistake of letting lust guide their decisions before, and that was what had started this all.
No. Not a mistake. It wasn't right, perhaps, but it wasn't wrong. It had brought them together and despite the confusion and turmoil and complexity of it all, Hermione couldn't bring herself to regret it.
She slid herself up and down Fleur's center, covering her erection in the woman's arousal. The sensation was killing her, a slow sweet death, and judging by Fleur's keening and matching thrusts, she too was on the edge. Hermione pulled her hips back, pressed a hand to the Veela's hip to keep her still, and used the other to guide the tip of her head to the ready entrance of the blonde's core.
Some distant alarm was sounding in the recesses of Hermione's brain, but her mind was hazy with lust. Fleur wanted her. She wanted this. Hermione wanted this. But the alarm was sounding louder, disrupting the compulsions of her primal instinct. How to be an honorable and decent woman?
But that didn't mean she couldn't ravage Fleur in another way. Hermione slid down the Veela's body, disregarding Fleur's insistent protests of her withdrawal. She bit slick skin, drawing a path with her tongue over curves and muscle until she reached the torn fabric. Her mouth watered, a rumble emanated from her chest, she bent toward the beauty and drank from the source.
/
Fleur was ecstatic. She couldn't wait to tell Hermione the news, she just wasn't sure if she should wake her now or tell her in the morning. Her feet were light and quick as she made her way up the stairs, hand dancing up the smooth banister. She could hardly contain herself or her grin. The Flock always knew what she needed, but she somehow had let herself doubt. She felt betrayed by her heritage when it all started, but maybe she had it all wrong. As her mother said, this bond could be the biggest blessing of both their lives, and the Flock would always support its Veela.
She slowed her steps when she reached the bedroom and carefully turned the knob, deciding to let Hermione sleep. It had been an eventful and emotional day after all. She opened the door just enough to slip through. She was not prepared for the scene before her.
It took a few moments for her eyes to adjust to the darkness, but the sounds echoing in the dark room were clear: Hermione was awake. Heavy breathing with intermittent gasping. Hermione's unique scent reached her before the image came into focus. It was uniquely her mate's, somehow mixed with her own, rushing out and surrounding her as if trying to entice her closer. Her inner Veela began to push its way forward, feathers bristling under the skin, but Fleur stopped the transformation.
'Not tonight. Tonight she is just mine, with just me.'
The inner Veela compiled without a fight. Soft feet toward the bed as she took in the vision before her. Hermione was stiff, head thrown back, two hands stroking with effortful movements. Her eyes flitted back to her lover's face. It was not contorted in pleasure, instead almost in pain.
"Allow me, ma moitié," the Veela whispered as she swiftly moved onto the bed and mounted her mate.
Caught by surprise, the brunette snapped her head forward, eyes wide, face flushed. Being caught fondling herself was probably not what she had anticipated or desired when she started. Fleur watched the witch dart her eyes away, looking anywhere but at her. That will not do . Her mate had nothing to be ashamed about. She let her hand dip low and purchase on Hermione's, gently pressing to encourage her witch to continue.
"It is ok, do not look away. This is a pleasant surprise to return to," Fleur tried to keep the eagerness out of her voice so as not to push the brunette too far. She wanted to know what was troubling her mate."Tell me what you were thinking about. Please."
She had learned quickly the effect of that word on her mate. 'Please.' It seemed to ignite something inside Hermione, as if flint striking steel. And indeed, as anticipated, Hermione's eyes locked on Fleur's with a fiery intensity that seemed to travel from her gaze and into the Veela. Her body was alight with the heat of the flame, and just as she learned about herself the first night, Fleur accepted she was not below begging to get as much of the brunette as the brunette would allow. But first she would alleviate whatever it was that had her witch so conflicted. Hermione's upper lip curled and Fleur could swear she almost heard a growl, but the witch remained tight-lipped. So it was the fantasy that was the source of her distress.
"Please, mon amour. I must know, watching you is turning me on but I want more. I need more." She slipped her hand off of Hermione's and onto her shaft, following the tentative rhythm that the Gryffindor was setting. "It is ok, whatever it is. It is natural."
Hermione began to quicken the pace of her hand, and Fleur followed it stroke for stroke, gently adding more pressure. A moan began to seep from her lover's mouth before she finally spat out a response.
"Your cunt," the witch winced at her own words, but Fleur felt her own fire ignite from within. "The taste, your taste," Hermione rushed out. At her words the Veela's center, already wet, responded with more dripping arousal.
"Ah, so you were thinking about before," Fleur surmised. She was beginning to understand. Hermione gave a diffident nod.
When they both finished in the forest, Fleur had held Hermione close, pet her hair, kissed her face and whispered assurances in her ear. Hermione was scared of her instincts and Fleur told her over and over how much she loved how Hermione had taken control. During the partner practice she reassured the Gryffindor again.
"I felt safe with you. I knew I could let go and I could trust you to let go. I can trust you with all of me and that's how you made me feel. You make me feel safe."
But here her mate was, again wrought with guilt and disbelief. Another method, then.
Fleur raised and flicked her other hand to wordlessly vanish her clothes. She bit her lip to keep stifle a moan as she watched Hermione's chest rise and fall more quickly. She kept stroking, keeping a sure and steady pace.
"May I?" She asked as she reached forward and grabbed the bottom of Hermione's shirt.
The Gryffindor's jaw slackened open and she looked as if she was trying to form words, but ended up just nodding. Febrile energy and magic were running off of her in waves. Clothing was discarded.
"I wanted you to fuck me before. I thought you would." She brought her other hand to cup Hermione as the two of them continued to pump back and forth along her shaft.
"It excited me when you hunted me, when you captured me, and when you held me down. I thought you were going to take what is yours," Fleur spit in her hand. "And I am yours," she returned the hand to its mission.
Hermione's hips were jerking now, as if trying to remain still but unable to deny her what she wanted.
"You turned me on so much that when you put your mouth on me instead, I almost came in just that first moment."
And this was true. Fleur hadn't expected it, but she had been quickly coming undone. She realized that must have been what Hermione had experienced when she came so much faster than she had expected during their previous escapades.
The damp heat of Hermione's mouth descended upon her and Fleur instantly cried out. She should have known that the Gryffindor, talented at seemingly everything, would be a master with oral pleasure. There was no work up or tease. Her lover was hungry and greedily took from Fleur's center. Warm lips wrapped around her clit before she felt her tongue drag purposely across, circle, and then dip down and push inside of her. She wouldn't stop, and the pattern continued.
"I wasn't sure how long I would last. I wanted it to never end but I needed you to finish me," Fleur was breathless at the recollection, and her movements began to speed up. "You have a wicked tongue, ma lionne, and I like it when you put it to work on my cunt."
A moan ripped from Hermione's throat and she began to thrust her hips to meet the synced cadence of their hands.
Fleur didn't bother to hold back the sounds her mate was drawing out of her. She couldn't even if she wanted to. She let legs drop open wide to give her lover more access. Hands snaked into brown hair in an effort to find any way to keep herself anchored to this plane. She felt her mind spiraling from pleasure. Hermione's tongue was clever in its movements, her lips soft when they enveloped her, and her breath teasing and switching from bursts of warm to blows of cool air. The Veela couldn't stay still. She was writhing under the cunning and relentless mouth of her mate until two strong hands grabbed her hips and held them down firmly. Fleur couldn't hold on any longer, the anchor untethered, her back arched, her mouth dropped open, howls released from her throat and her hands tangled and knotted into locks.
"That control, that command you took with me, with your presence and your body, that's when it was over. I was so wet for you, I'm so wet for you now," Fleur's voice quivered as her own lust began to overflow.
From recounting how Hermione had ravished her, to witnessing and then participating in Hermione's self pleasure, Fleur's desire was burning incendiary. She reached between her legs to gather slick and then massaged it onto her mate's member. The noises of the work of their hands, and the high pitched gasps from Hermione, fueled the Veela's passion. She dipped a finger into her center again and then brought it to Hermione's lips. The brunette opened her mouth but Fleur pulled her finger away. When Hermione clenched her teeth in frustration, the blonde returned her finger and drew it across her mate's bottom lip, leaving a trail of arousal. Satisfied with her art, she leaned forward and took the kiss roughly, relishing in the taste of herself on her lover.
Fleur pushed Hermione's hands aside and took over. She shifted her body until her hot center was above the tip of the Gryffindor's cock, occasionally touching them together as she stroked the brunette with increasing speed. How she ached for Hermione to be in her. She felt it again, that dire need.
"And then.. and then you-" She hadn't even been focusing on her own pleasure but she felt on the brink. Her words gave way to keening and she couldn't finish her sentence.
"And then I did this," Hermione growled out as she sat up and swept the blonde onto her back.
Fleur's words were gone. It was like in the forest, but this time all of Hermione's timidity was gone. Hermione began to thrust, dragging the length of her member through Fleur's folds and over her clit. The brunette dropped her body onto the Veela, slid fingers to the nape of her neck, laced them into her hair and held tight. The world narrowed for Fleur as she breathed in the rich dominating scent of her mate above her. The overwhelming feeling of calm settled within as the aura of control from the brunette washed over her, leaving her feeling entirely owned and safe. Hermione slid one hand forward to caress Fleur's breast and then tug at a sensitive bud. The Veela hissed and then wrapped her legs around her mate, grabbed her by the back of the neck and pulled her closer, closer, never close enough. She tried to respond with her hips but Hermione wouldn't let her move. The Gryffindor set the rhythm and wouldn't give up the reins. Her cock was fully coated in Fleur's arousal and it slid hot and unrelenting against her. Hermione's grunts were muffled as she buried her face in Fleur's neck. The Veela could no longer hear the noises she was making, completely unconcerned with the growing volume of her moans and snarls, instead focused in on the pleasure coming from Hermione and the climax building within her. She couldn't catch her breath, she couldn't breathe, she was breathless. Each inhale-exhale left her more quickly than the last. A feeling of weightlessness enveloped her, dizzying her and leaving her hazy with all thoughts shrinking away. With each thrust she was closer, ready; she was ready she was ready. With just the angle and push Fleur was coming and together they were shaking, lost in the embrace of the other and the feelings shared. Their magics were swirling wildly around them, rushing out and dancing until the lovers landed on the other side.
/
It was Fleur that was wrapped around Hermione tonight. The Gryffindor wasn't used to being the little spoon but found she liked it. They were intertwined, connected in a new way. Fleur was whispering in her ear, telling her how much she cared for her, how much she felt cared for, and how perfect Hermione was in bed. Emotions, chemistry, physicality, and magic were all aligned and complementary. Hermione found she could breathe more easily. The doubt and the fear and the cold that had gripped her insides before were long gone. The peace she felt reminded her of their walk back to the estate.
They were holding hands as they made their way through the woods, traveling in comfortable silence. Both were hungry after their hunt, but decided a stroll to cool down would do them well before they apparated back to the probable company of others. Hermione was taking in the beauty of the forest when a particular sight caught her interest. She stopped to stare and analyze what she was seeing.
"What is that?" she asked Fleur as she gestured toward two trees.
They were distinctly two, but also one. Separate but somehow not. Trunks leaned into each other, and limbs and branches were woven around ones from its partner. In certain places it was hard to tell which belonged to which tree. In the middle at the height of Hermione's gaze there was an even stranger phenomenon. The two trunks seemed almost married; joined and fused, almost as if they had been grafted together.
"Ah, that is an inosculated tree. Well, two, but one," Fleur stated as if that was enough of an explanation for the curious Gryffindor. It was not.
"What does that mean? Explain," the request wasn't so much demanding as it was just that Hermione was distracted. She let go of the Veela's hand and approached to more closely examine. Hands caressed over bark, vine, and moss in wonder.
"It is a natural occurrence. Two trees grow close over time. Under the right circumstances they begin to intertwine and grow together. They grow separate for a time, until they touch, but then they join. They even fuse, as you can see. Nature allows the barrier of the bark to fall away and then they-"
"They bond," Hermione finished absentmindedly. She let her hand rest at the joint of the connection of the two trees.
"Oui, they bond."
"And they are separate but the same."
"Oui, distinct but one. We could call it a transformative love, non?"
"A transformative love, yes," Hermione murmured. "I am beginning to understand."
/
"Where did you slip off to tonight?" Hermione asked Fleur as sleep was was slowly beginning to overtake her..
"Oh, I was going to tell you in the morning when you were awake, but I am so excited!"
Hermione turned to face her mate.
"It is ma sœur, my sister! Gabrielle has come home to meet you and support us! I can't wait for you two to meet again!"
Fleur's smile was infectious and soon enough Hermione's own cheeks were sore with delight. Her mate was happy, she was happy, and they were safe and secure. If somehow given the chance, Hermione wouldn't change a thing about how they had come to be where they were now. With eyes closed she turned back around and finally let sleep take her.
/
I do apologize for the time it has taken to update this fic. Life, man. Life.
It will be slow to update, but there is an actual plot I am following and an end in sight. I will not abandon the fic. Je promets.
Reviews, feedback and critique, good and not-so-good, always welcome!
JMichelle2019: thanks for comment. I hope you loved this chapter just as much as the last.
Ecatherin: thanks for reviewing. Was this a decent culmination of the sexual tension?
ZeroDawn22: I hope this was juicy enough for you and made up for cutting the last scene short.
Takeaflyingleap: Our clever Hermione continued I think will always come out on top. Hope you enjoyed this side of our favorite bookworm as well.
DarkAngelBaby: That's Hermione for you! I can only imagine her skills will increase from here here ;)
Mon85babe: grazie, grazie mille! Thanks for leaving a review :)
Vampangelus: thank you for the review! I really wanted to portray the hunt well, but was worried it was a bit risky to try something like that. I'm glad it came through and you enjoyed it. Took a few risks with this chapter too...hope the juice was worth the wait ;)
Shadow994: I'm so glad the excitement came through! What did you think of the reward? You've seen my writing so far… I couldn't resist some shame even with the reward xD thanks for reviewing
WolfDragonGod: Thank you for the thoughtful review and the kind words! I appreciate the reviews and the follows so much, whether you read it here or on AO3. Have no fear! I have every intention of completing this work. It's a goal of mine to finish this multific. Thank you so much for your encouragement, patience and understanding. I hope to update a bit more frequently moving forward, and that it continues to be the quality of fic you that meets your standards.
Kpop1292: Thanks for catching up and for all the review! uwu