A/N.
Copious smut ahead lol. If that's not your thing, maybe run away after the page break ;)
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Chapter 27
Hermione
I knew Harry was the centre of our social circle. People are drawn to him, for a bevy of different reasons. Where Harry leads, others will follow. It's always been that way.
What I didn't realize before tonight, however, was that Harry often follows me. Which means even when I'm studying, I'm surrounded by Harry's fan club.
I mean, I knew it in an abstract sort of way.
In the way I did my homework in the library, so Harry would join me, because Harry did his homework with me. And often, because it was duh, the library, there'd be other people with us, or other students watching us from a discreet distance.
But it didn't really become as blindly evident as it did when I looked up from my note taking in the Potter-Black tombs (I heard Kreacher refer to the library as such this afternoon, and now it will forever be in my head) to find half a dozen different Weasley's spread out on various surfaces.
The twins were in a back corner with their heads bent together, whispering fiercely to each other. If I had to guess, I'd say they're working on the extendable ears. I saw one of them pull something stringy and flesh-like from a pocket.
Ron was stretched out on the floor, reading one of the books I bought him yesterday. He grumbled when I presented him with the gifts, but I didn't so much as hint he should start reading them, and he's already halfway through the first.
Ginny was on the couch, working on her summer essays and shooting Harry and me covert glances every few minutes. I can feel her staring at the back of my head still, and it makes me want to change my seats so I'm facing her instead. I'm not worried she'd do anything stupid, much. But Harry isn't the only one in this house with a hair-trigger temper, and Ginny hasn't said a word to me since we announced that we were Bonded Mates.
Even Bill, who is still hanging around the house for some reason, was lounging in a chair with his nose in a magazine.
Harry was next to me at the table, pulling interesting spells from a book on advanced defensive magic Tonks left for him this morning.
As soon as Harry left with Sirius and Remus to show Nate where the training space and the potions labs are going to be, the others trickled out one by one. The only person who remained is Ginny, and she hasn't spoken in hours. The only thing that brought them all together was Harry, and I bet none of them even realized it.
I sit up and stretch with my arms over my head as Harry wanders back through the door. I can tell from his posture he still has the sword strapped to his back, and by the throbbing in my temples, his headache is back.
I wonder if he had headaches like this before, and just never complained about it. I always thought the pain came from the Horcrux, but obviously not. Or maybe it did, and now he's having headaches because he's adjusting to it not being there anymore?
I hate not having the answers. There's no way to do a before and after analysis either, unless we die again and let him keep the Horcrux the next time and that's a big fat no.
Harry takes my chin in his hand and leans down over the top of me bringing his mouth to mine, in what is quickly becoming my favourite way to kiss him. I forget about the crick in my neck and that Ginny is scarcely any feet away, and how only a few weeks ago Harry was nothing more than my best friend.
I revel in the way the bond flows and blends between us and in the peace that surges from him when his lips connect with mine. I could power a dozen patronuses, knowing I make him feel like that.
"I'm going upstairs," he says when he finally pulls away. He cups my face in his hand, running his thumb over my cheekbone.
"Want me to come with you?" I ask, already reaching to pack up my books.
"No," he says quietly, giving his head a small shake. "You finish here. I need a few minutes." He gives me a small smile. "To brood," he jokes, and I roll my eyes. I pick up my wand and do a tempus charm, and see it's only nine o'clock.
"You, okay?"
My brow furrows in concern. Nine is early for us, even on a school night.
"Yeah," he says, his smile warm and just for me. I'll talk to you later breathes into my mind, and his eyes flick over my head to the girl sitting on the couch.
Oh.
That.
Yeah.
"Okay," I tell him gently, and he leaves without another word.
I barely have my book open before her voice grates from the couch.
"Trouble in paradise already?" Ginny snarks, and I flip the cover of my book closed again. I take a moment to plaster a forgiving smile on my face and take a deep breath or two. It won't do for both of us to lose our cools now, will it?
You know, if she had any idea what a pain in the arse Harry really was, she'd thank me for taking him off her hands. Honestly, he's intolerable nine times out of ten. Like today with that thing with the headmaster. Ginny would have stormed off after him, and they would have duked it out in the hallway and then where would we all be? Living in a house destroyed by magic, that's where.
In reality, I think she owes me .
She's lucky I'm Harry's soulmate. That's the truth of it.
I turn in my chair and face her with a false smile and my hands in my lap.
"No trouble. No paradise. That isn't the way this works. See, I'm Harry's soulmate. No more and no less. That didn't magically change our connection or make the reality of our situation all sunshine and roses. Harry is still the impetuous pain in the arse he always was, and I'm still the same swot I was before our binding. If you have any questions though, I'd be happy to answer them."
Ginny scowls at me and shoves her sheet of thick red hair behind her shoulders.
She's breathtaking in her beauty. It's easy to understand why boys fall all over themselves for her. Her looks are as fiery as her personality. She would look wonderful on Harry's arm. She did look wonderful on his arm.
My looks may be plain when compared to Ginny's radiance, but there's a reason fate or whatever picked me over her. I'm sure the hissy fit she's building up to throw is one of the reasons.
"You knew I liked him!" She spits at me, and even in her anger, she's beautiful.
"What do you think I did?" I ask her, leaning forward in my chair. "Owled the Bond Department at the Ministry and requested they post-date a soul bond for us? You're smarter than that Ginny. Don't be so dim."
Ginny flinches back in anger, and I power forward before she can get any steam gathered in her chest.
"No," I snap at her. "Don't say anything else we'd both regret, and you can't take back."
I stand at the table and flip through my books until I come to the one on the different types of bonds. I walk to the couch, then hold the book out for her, waiting for her to take it. She yanks it from my hands, giving it a scathing look before turning her glare on me.
"You grew up with magic, Ginny. You know, even if I'm happy about it, and don't get me wrong, I'm ecstatic I'm Harry's wife. I'm overjoyed with happiness that he belongs to me ."
If I'm a teensy bit firm with that last statement, I don't think anyone would hold it against me. I reach for him through the bond, and his caress is gentle and adoring. I know I'm smiling like a moron, and I don't even care.
"Even with all of that," I tell her, "We didn't have a say in the matter. Our bonds were predetermined, aeons before either of us were born. Read the book, Gin. Maybe that'll help."
I sit down next to her on the couch. She looks so young to me, even though I'm barely eighteen months older in this timeline
"I understand you're sad. I would be too if I found out the boy, I had a crush on was promised somewhere else. But Gin, you've only ever had a crush on Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived. I'm in love with Harry, and those two people are as different as night and day. The fact that you haven't realized that yet proves it wouldn't work out between you."
She says nothing at that, looking forlornly at the book in her hands. I give her arm a squeeze, before rising from the couch and collecting my stuff from the library table. The books can stay, but my notes need to come with me. I can't risk the others finding out about our Horcrux search, among other things.
Harry is already down to his pyjamas by the time I get into the bedroom. He's sitting on our bed, shirtless, with his knee cocked and an arm resting atop it. In his other hand is one of the books that we bought at the bookstore. He snaps it closed as soon as the door opens, but I catch the title anyway.
Bewitching your Witch.
Well, that's all the prompting I need.
"Fancy meeting you here," he drawls in an almost perfect imitation of Draco's dry witticism. His face goes serious much too quickly for my liking though. He drops his knee to hide the book on the bed. "I wasn't expecting you for hours yet."
I shut the door as gently as I can before making my way over to our table. I rest a hand on the tabletop then bend over with the other one and yank my socks from my feet. I drop them to the floor. My shorts are next, and with a flick of my thumb and a shimmy of my hips, the fabric is off my legs and resting on top of my socks.
Harry clears his throat as I take two huge fistfuls of shirt and yank it up and over my head.
"Merlin, Hermione!" he says with wide eyes.
I use my chin to point to the book on our bed.
"If this isn't what you want," I taunt him, "why are you reading one of the books?"
"I was studying," he stammers, picking it up and shaking it in his hand. I grasp my fingers onto my bra, but Harry lurches forward on the bed. "Leave that on," he whispers, and I look down at the scrap of pink lace covering my breasts.
"Really?" I ask, confused.
"Yes," he confirms, and the dark timbre of his voice sends chills down my spine.
I look at the bra again. It's nothing. It's barely anything at all. My mum calls these types of bras decorations, as they don't support your breasts at all. There are no underwires, no cleavage. Just two triangles of baby doll pink lace that let my nipples show through.
Oh.
I get it.
A grin stretches over my face.
"Isn't that why you came to bed so early?" I tease him as I push my panties down over my hips. "Unless the house burns down, we won't be bothered until morning, and I don't think I'll be tired for hours."
Harry crawls closer to the edge of the bed, flipping his legs off the end and standing.
"I thought I'd have time to myself to get my feet underneath me," he says, his cheeks flushed but with a sparkle in his eyes. Everywhere his gaze lands on my body sends a spark of electricity exploding over me. "After all, not all of us have spent the last several years studying the finer arts of sex."
"Theory is overrated," I assure him, closing the distance between us. "It's when you put a plan into action that you always run into difficulty. You need to practice, to ensure you have it down right."
I barely think with the way he's staring at me. I can barely breathe.
"In that case," he growls, and Harry links his arm around my waist, hauling me into his chest. "There's a new skill I'd like to perfect," he whispers against my lips.
I arch my back and push up on my tiptoes to kiss him better, but he dodges my advances and instead trails his lips along my throat. Goosebumps burst along my flesh, and my nipples tighten into hardened peaks.
"That's," I try to say, but my voice is weak and breathy. "That's nice," I croak out, and yeah, it's really nice. His tongue darts out to lick at my skin, but as soon as I become adjusted to the feel of his lips caressing a certain spot, he's on the move again.
It's enough to drive a girl to distraction.
"I'm a fast learner," he mumbles, and you don't need to tell me twice. If only he'd give this kind of attention to Transfiguration.
His hand pulls at my hair, and I should reach up to help him, but I think I've forgotten how to use my hands. Instead, they rest listlessly against his muscles as he works the tie from my hair one-handed, then digs his fingers against my scalp.
Lightning shoots from my head all the way down to my clit.
"I love your hair," he whispers, and why in Merlin's name would he admit to such blasphemy?
"You're delusional," I tell him, and he shakes his head no. I try to pull his face back up to mine, but Harry's stronger than me and ignores my pull. My neck is going to be bruised if he keeps that up, and I don't know whether the thought upsets me or turns me on.
I mean, women shouldn't go around with hickies! It's a sign of disrespect, I'm sure. But I adore the way Harry's tongue is licking at my neck as he sucks on my skin. His teeth press in just enough, and…
A shiver rips through me and I shudder in Harry's arms.
A surge of pleasure slithers over our bond. He likes making me lose my concentration.
Bastard.
I grab his chin and haul his lips to mine, but he barely grazes them before twists his neck the other way and starts again on my throat. This time on the other side.
I want a kiss, dammit!
Then he nips at a spot across my shoulders and okay, that feels nice too.
His other hand is on my hip, squeezing and touching as he works his way over my butt. I sense what he wants from me before he has the chance to voice it. I lift my feet from the ground and Harry takes my weight effortlessly with a hand under my arse as I wrap my legs around his waist.
I can feel his dick straining against the inside of his pants. I rub myself against him, and finally, finally Harry brings his mouth to mine and bites on my bottom lip.
The sting of it is sharp, and I gasp at the unexpected hurt. But just as quick Harry's tongue darts out to soothe the ache. I pull at his hair to hold him to me and take the kiss he's been denying me.
Kissing Harry is fast becoming my favourite thing to do.
He twists on his feet, moving back towards the bed. He releases his hold on me when his knee hits the mattress, but instead of sliding down like I'm sure he intended, I cling to him like a spider monkey. Harry laughs into my mouth, and I take the opportunity to suck on his tongue.
It's very untoward to be so aggressive, I'm sure. Miss Manners in Witch Weekly magazine would be appalled. But I can't help myself. The closer I get to Harry, the closer I want to be.
Harry collapses onto the mattress, and I huff out a squeak as the weight of him pushes me into the bedspread. I giggle in surprise at the impact, and Harry bursts into laughter, pulling off his glasses when they shove into his face in a crooked painful press.
They float on their own over to the bedside table, and I roll my eyes when Harry rises to his knees.
"What are you doing?" I ask him when he picks up a pillow then drops it again.
"Looking for my book," he says. "I need to use it for reference."
A snort slips out when I try to cover my laughter, and I bring my hands to my mouth to keep it all contained.
"Yuck it up," he says.
Harry searches for the book that's been lost in the covers then flips through the pages until he finds whatever it was he was looking for. He opens the book wide, then turns it around until I can see the pictures too.
"I want to try this one,'' he says, and all the blood in my body seems to rush to my face. My gulp is audible, and all I can think is yes please , but maybe not , because the picture is of a man on his back and the woman on top of him and their faces are covering each other's crotches.
You can't see his face very clearly, but she looks like she's enjoying herself very much.
"Really?" I ask, and I know my voice is trembling but honestly, I think I have reason to be nervous.
"You're the one who told me that I have to learn by doing. I want to learn how you taste from the source."
I try to slow down my heart rate and regulate my breathing but my eyes gloss over anyway and Harry takes that for a yes.
He lifts up on his knees and pushes his sleep pants and trunks off his thighs before flopping back onto the bed and pulling his trousers one by one off his legs. He drops them somewhere off the side onto the floor.
I have to clear my throat and close my eyes to get my scattered thoughts back under control. My mouth is suddenly flooded with moisture, and I make a smacking sound while attempting to right my equilibrium.
"Why do you want to do that exactly?" I ask him, hoping that he can't feel the way my tummy is twisting in anticipation.
"Where do I start?" he asks me, and I swear I swoon when he licks his lips.
"It's so…" Gah! Is it hot in here? It feels really warm. I tighten my fist at my side, so I don't fan myself. "It's so intimate," I whisper, and I wish the bed would open me up and swallow me whole.
"Intimate?" he repeats, and he chokes on the word. His eyes go all wide, and his lips twist up in this evil sort of smile, and a shiver forces its way down my spine that has nothing to do with the way the room is scorching and everything to do with the way he's looking at me.
He leans forward so that he's on his hands and knees, and I fall backwards so that I'm supported by my elbows underneath him. He crawls over me like a panther, and the image is so visceral I have to close my eyes and shake my head to clear it from my thoughts.
My eyes snap open when I feel his breath against my chest. He's looking up at me through his lashes, and my goodness, Harry is so very pretty.
"What do you call me waking up to you staring at my prick like it was candy, Mi? You can't have this both ways. You can't play the part of the seductress, then refuse to be seduced."
Without moving my bra out of the way Harry latches his mouth around my breast. He's rougher with the lace blocking his way, and he sucks at me hard enough that his teeth dig in. The flat of his tongue scrapes against my straining nipple and it's just this side of "ow," I gasp, and he immediately releases his hold.
"Sorry," he says, but he doesn't sound sorry. He sounds rather pleased with himself if I had to put a label on it. He pulls at the nipple he just abandoned with his fingers while he moves to the other side to torture me with his lips and teeth and tongue until my back is arching off the bed and I have to tell him to pull away. He moves the lace of my bra to the side this time and examines his results.
"Did you know there's an entire chapter in that book dedicated to the proper use of teeth?" he asks me, and Merlin I've created a monster.
"Uhhh," is all I reply, since Harry has somehow stolen my vocabulary. It's just rude of him too, as I'm usually a walking thesaurus.
"You win," he mumbles.
I don't feel like I've won. I feel like I'm coming undone. His lips trail gentle kisses over my skin, moving in a listless pattern over my ribs. "We can try that position next time," he tells me, and I nod my head in agreement.
Next time.
Whatever he wants.
His fingers glide between my legs, and I part them automatically. The last time he was betwen my legs he was unsure with his touches. Tonight, he seems to know exactly what to and what parts of me to caress. He dips between my folds and his thumb grazes against my nub and his fingers circle me there and my toes curl into the mattress when he presses a single finger inside me.
So long as he never stops touching me like that, we can do whatever he wants.
"Can I taste you at least?" he asks, and I have no idea what I'm supposed to say to that.
No. I much prefer doing the exploring than being explored.
Please, Merlin, please. Please, please, please taste me before I lose my mind.
I settle for, "Uh-huh," in a semi semblance of sounding in control.
It's amazing how my nerves both double and disappear when he places a butterfly soft kiss on my hip.
He lowers onto his belly between my legs and continues his torture by tenderness as he runs his lips up the insides of my thighs.
I'm already squirming, and he hasn't even touched me yet. Not where it counts at least.
Harry takes his thumbs and spreads my labia, and I think I'm going to die.
The sensation of being studied is devastating. I've stared down murderers, gone to battle with hardened killers, and I've never felt as exposed and vulnerable as I do at this moment. The need to run and flee is almost overpowering. I'm lying crooked on the bed, and there isn't a pillow to be had, but I cover my eyes with my forearm and pretend I don't know what he's doing.
He kisses me, there, soft and sweet and it's…it's like being touched by a live wire. He flattens his tongue and licks me from slit to clit, and I moan in a lewd and broken fashion that has his head lifting to get a better look at my face.
"You are so beautiful," he tells me, and now I know he's lost his mind. "I love how bloody wet you are."
I wish I never would have begged him to let me into his head because his excitement is crawling over my skin like a line of ants and I writhe under his examinations.
His fingers pull on my lips then his mouth takes their place, and I can't even breathe at the feeling of his tongue flicking against the delicate flesh. His arm moves underneath my thigh and wraps around the top, then he uses his fingers to pull back my hood and why does that simple motion make everything so much more.
Harry pushes that single finger inside and kisses my clit like he kisses my mouth, all lips and teeth and tongue. He sucks on the bundle of nerves, and my hands fly to his head to either force him away or hold him there. I haven't made up my mind yet.
"Fuck, Mi," he groans, and when I uncover my eyes and look down the line of my body to see Harry is fucking the mattress and sweet mother Morgana, I can't watch that.
I feel like I'm on fire. I feel like I'm melting. Or maybe I'm getting ready to combust.
But it's not enough.
"More," I breathe, and Harry bless him, he gives me everything.
He growls against the sensitive flesh, and waves of pleasure flow through my body.
Harry takes my leg and places it over his knee, and it's like he's opened another portal to heaven. Or hell. I'm not yet sure. Either way, nerve endings that managed to escape his onslaught are exposed, and I whimper and whine and cry out at the magic he's working on my body. He laps at my pussy, like he's been in the desert and it's the only thing that'll quench his thirst. He adds a second finger to the first, and…
I don't think the noises I'm making are human anymore.
Heat bursts from my belly. I start to convulse on the bed. My orgasm consumes me from the inside out.
My legs try to close, but Harry holds them open with his shoulders and hand. His palm, covered in my slick, moves to pin my belly to the bed. His mouth loses some of his aggression, but he doesn't pull away.
Instead, he dips his pointed tongue into my hole, and I cry out fresh at the intrusion. My fingers dig into the bedspread beneath me, my toes into the mattress and Harry's back. He bathes our bond in adoration, blowing gently on my swollen sex.
"You're okay," Harry soothes against my thigh. He pulls his mouth away before I start to sob, but tears have already leaked from my eyes.
Merlin.
That was…
Harry sits back on his heels, his thumb softly rubbing circles against my pulsing flesh, and I open my eyes in time to see him make himself come all over my stomach.
Oh gods.
I'm still twitching as I stuck my finger in a light socket when he runs his fingers through his own mess, then washes it away with the murmur of a spell.
Without a word, he begins to kiss his way back up my belly.
I realize one thing and one thing only as I come down from the high.
It wasn't enough.
It'll never be enough. We could stay in this bed for the rest of our lives, and I'll never be satisfied.
I can taste myself on his lips when he kisses me, and I understand what Harry meant when he said he liked the taste. When Harry came in my mouth it was salty and warm and while not intolerable, probably not something I'd come to crave.
Well. But. No.
I love the way I taste transferring from Harry's tongue to mine. I try to crawl into his mouth and leach all the flavor from him.
I need more.
I need everything.
Every time I try to reach for him, he moves his hips so he's just out of my grasp. I wrap my arms around his back and try to pull him on top of me, but he settles at my side instead of between my legs.
"I want to make love to you, Harry," I practically beg.
I can feel what those words do to him. The effect they have on both his mind and his body. His hips twitch at my side, and his imagination blossoms with a thousand different ideas.
But Harry shakes his head no, and it makes me want to scream. Why did I have to be bonded to the only teenage boy in the world with self-control? Damn you evil people and your years of psychological and physical torture. It's given Harry an uncanny mastery of his person.
The next time I see Voldemort, I'm going to kick him in the balls.
Why Harry can't have this sort of control when his temper is in a dander I have no idea.
"We don't have to do that tonight," he says. His voice is so tender as he pushes my hair away from my eyes. "There's no rush, love. We can take our time."
I disagree completely.
Yes. Yes, we do. We have to do it. Right now. At this very moment, or I'm going to explode. Implode. I'm going to lose my ever-loving mind. There's going to be a Hermione sized hole in the ceiling where I burst out of my skin if I don't feel him inside me as soon as humanly possible.
Harry's stronger than me, in every sense of the word. He's physically more powerful. His magical signature is twice the size of mine. But he's as meek as a newborn puppy when I shove him over onto his back and pull myself astride him.
He rests his hands lightly on my thighs.
"It's adorable that you babble in your head in the same way you ramble out loud," Harry says with a smile on his face, and oh my fucking God. He heard all that.
"I hate you," I pout with a tremble in my voice.
"I love you," he replies, and my breath shudders when I inhale. That was unexpected. "You know that right? I do love you, Hermione. Not just for this."
I do know that. I've always known that. Since I was twelve years old, I knew Harry loved me.
I plant my hands on either side of his head and lean my body across his until I can kiss him. I kiss him until I can't breathe anymore and then I kiss him some more, hoping he can feel how much I love him too.
Harry latches his hands around my hips and lifts me in the air, and I feel both powerful and insignificant. What's it going to be like in another few years when Harry towers over me, and his chest is twice as broad? When his hands, rough from handling a broom for hours at a time, can circle my waist with barely any inches to spare? The thought is…delicious.
"Are you sure?" he asks again.
His green eyes are so intense with the way they fill with love and concern for me. I already feel him inside my head, searching out my nooks and crannies for any sign of regret. He won't find any. I want to feel him inside my body too.
I want to be consumed by him.
I want to burn with it.
Instead of answering with my words I reach between our bodies and take him in my hand. I whisper the lubrication charm, not that I need it, and bring his dick to my entrance.
With trembling legs and shaking fingers, I lower my body onto his.
I gasp when he enters me, a counterpoint to Harry's hiss. It's so, so tight.
I only make it halfway down, before I have to pause to breathe. I might not have to worry about breaking my hymen, but that doesn't mean it isn't overwhelming anyway.
In the most perfect way possible.
"Shhhh," Harry soothes through his teeth, running his hands up and down my back. My eyes are shut tight, and I have to pant at the pressure.
"You're okay," Harry assures me, and this time it's a statement instead of a question. I am okay. Harry would never hurt me. Of that, I have no doubt.
"Are you?" I ask through clenched teeth, and I feel Harry nod.
"Mmm, hmmm," He moans and dammit I love that sound.
I open my eyes, and the way he looks staring up at me. He looks at me like I'm everything. Like I'm beautiful. He's chanting it in his head, like it's his mantra. She's so lovely. She's so beautiful and I have to close my eyes and shut it out because it's all too much to handle at once.
The feeling of fullness is exquisite. It's so much, but at the same time, it's still not enough. I need more.
He tightens his hands on my back again, and I start the slow descent downwards.
I already know Harry grows another six inches taller in the next three years. He probably wasn't done growing when we were sent back in time. Does that mean his dick is going to get bigger too?
Harry chokes and thrusts and suddenly my ass is on his thighs and—
"I'm sorry," he grunts, and he sounds sorry, but his voice is tight in a way I've never heard it before, and his hands are shaking where they touch my flesh.
His hands flex against my back and he holds me still against him.
Merlin he's so big.
"Merlin you're so small," he mimics.
The stretch of it is torture. Somehow, I didn't realize he'd go so deep. I feel him everywhere. He's like velvet over steel, and every time I try to breathe, I feel his dick inside me.
I love it.
His arms wrap around my back so tight I can feel his muscles straining, but I think it's more to keep himself still than anything else. His breathing is heavy but even. The muscles in his thighs are twitching under me. I can't see his face where it's buried against my shoulder blade.
My forearms are flat on the bed beside his head, and I dig my fingers into his hair and pull his face so I can see it. Bring my lips to his and let him taste the pleasure building in my spine. His tongue is firm and aggressive as he licks into my mouth.
He pulls away all too soon for my liking.
"I heard your thoughts and Merlin, Hermione. Warn a guy next time!"
I start to giggle, and it jostles me on his cock, and I swear I feel it twitch inside me as both of us moan from the sensation. Without moving my chest from his, because I really kinda like how trapped I feel, even though I'm on top, I lift my hips a tiny bit, before letting them fall back down.
Oh, sweet Merlin. Just that little bit is almost too much. I can't tell if it's his reaction or mine.
"Yes," he says in a distracted manner. It takes me a moment to realize what he's saying, as my blood is thrumming through my veins, and I squeeze my muscles around his pulsing dick inside me.
I'm drunk. It's the only explanation. My body is pulled tighter than a drum and my head lulls sluggishly on my neck.
Harry takes my chin and turns my head until I'm looking him in the eye. "I get considerably bigger." Then he flexes his dick inside me.
My eyes roll up in the back of my head.
"Can you move?" Harry asks, and it takes much longer than it should for me to gather a response.
"Yes?" I say with uncertainty, and even to my own ears, it sounds more like a question than an answer.
"Focus, love," he instructs me, and I open my eyes and blink.
Harry lets go of my face and grips my hips with both sets of his fingers. His legs rise behind me, and he lifts me from his lap and lets me glide back down again.
That. Is. Everything.
"Yessss," I say a second time, and this time, it is the answer. Lava turns molten in my belly, and I lift my hips without his prompting.
Harry places my hands on his chest, taking my weight when he sits me up straighter. Holy Mother, the angle changes everything. Sparks ignite in places I never even knew existed. He brings his hands back to my hips and helps me rise again.
The drag of his cock against my walls is everything. The collision of our joining when he bottoms out inside me is primal. It takes no time at all to find a rhythm we both like. I moan every time I reach the end of his cock, suddenly bereft of his presence, and Harry grunts every time I bear back down, desperate to fill me with himself.
Is this what everyone feels like when they have sex with the person they love? Like you can't tell where you begin, and they end? I know all the books say it's supposed to hurt. Even with the spells to ease the ache. But despite the burn between my legs, I feel like I'm a goddess.
"Hermione," Harry whimpers, and yes, I know Harry.
YES!
I need it too. I need to touch in every way it's possible to be connected.
My hair falls in a messy wave around us as I collapse into his arms. His grip is rough to the point of pain when he fists it in my hair and drags my lips to his, and that only makes it better. His other hand flattens onto the curve of my ass, holding me how he wants me as he pumps inside my quim.
I'm so close I'm shaking. Harry is teetering on the edge. But if five years of masturbation has taught me anything, it's that no matter how magical Harry's cock might be, I need something on my clit to get to the end of completion.
I wiggle a hand between us, and as soon as my fingers slide against the swollen bud, my nerve endings start to tingle. Stars sparkle behind my eyelids. I give up kissing Harry and settle for breathing his air, my mouth open and panting against his assault.
Harry is whispering something, or chanting it in our heads, and I can't make out more than the frantic way in which he begs. Euphoria begins as gentle as a hummingbird against my skin, before blooming into a hurricane in my chest. I sob as I surrender to it, and Harry fights it tooth and nail.
"Harry," I cry against his lips, and he swallows the sound before it can hit the air.
"Not yet," he pleads as his thrusting takes on a senseless, desperate cadence. I'm sure his fingertips will be bruised into my skin. I can't wait to see it in the mirror. I smell the magic wafting from him; dark and powerful and strong enough to bathe in.
Then he falls apart beneath me and I know the true meaning of sharing a soul. I gasp as I feel it take him, though, in true Harry fashion, he refuses to give in. His orgasm is blinding, but he rides it like you would a bullet train, holding on for dear life.
He's gasping for air as a groan is ripped forcefully from his lips.
We are equals and opposites, in this as in everything else. Harry goes rigid, where I feel boneless and lax. He's already mourning the loss of me, while I'm relishing in the sensation of being one.
I feel brilliant, and Harry feels broken with loss.
Loss because everything he loves is taken from him sooner rather than later, and Harry loves me more than anything.
"I'm not going anywhere," I tell him, and wipe the sweat from his brow. I'm sure I'm getting heavy by now, but Harry is still inside of me, and the strength of his arms is brutal. I couldn't get away even if I wanted to, which is why Harry is holding me so tight. Not that he realizes that.
"I love you," he murmurs with a quivering voice, and of course the boy who has never felt loved would tremble the first time he feels too much of it.
"I love you too," I assure my husband. My soulmate. My other half. I lean down a smidgen further, so my lips can touch his ear. My back is starting to cramp, but I'll sleep draped across his chest like this if it's what it takes to bring him comfort. "I chose this," I remind him, and he shivers underneath me. "I chose to be with you. I'm not going anywhere, Harry. Never. I promise."
He loosens his hold just enough that I can slither down his chest, and he finally slides from my body. I feel bereft without him. He doesn't try to change our positions though, so I rest my head on his chest.
Harry takes a shuddering breath, and I can feel his lungs quake with the inhale.
"I won't let them take you from me," he says almost too quietly to hear, but I feel his determination through the bond. He means it more than any thought he's ever had before.
I almost pity the first person who tries to take me from his side.
Almost.