A/N

Sorry it took me so long to update!

BOUND CAME OUT TODAY!

Bound by Amanda Faye is LIVE!

1Click Now!

Amazon: /3z08v2W

Universal: /u/4EKDQO

Goodreads: /37va9xY

Blurb:

Justin

I like to flirt with trouble, and I always get what I want.

All it took was a bit of liquor and a playful taunt between my best friend, Remi, and Julia, my wife.

Then what I wanted them. Together. Bound and beneath me.

And it was better than I could've imagined.

The three of us? We were perfect. Earth-shattering. Addicting.

And buckets full of trouble.

Now I just have to convince Remi that we are worth fighting for.

Bound is book one in the Then There Were Three Trilogy. Bound does end in a cliffhanger, but lucky for you, book two, Broken, is right around the corner. This book is intended for mature audiences.

#NewRelease #Bound #OneClick #AmandaFaye #ForbiddenRomance #MMF #ThenThereWasThree

Chapter 28

Harry

You're brooding, she whispers through my head, like a clear bell on a foggy day. Stop brooding.

Then between one heartbeat and the next Hermione is asleep in my arms. The weight of her gets heavier on my chest and the touch of her mind against mine becomes as light as a feather.

It helps me breathe, somehow.

I wasn't expecting it to be like this. So, overwhelming. It probably wouldn't have been if it were with Ginny. But with Hermione, everything is so much more.

I'm still getting used to being so entwined with another person. Her heart rate is faster than mine, her thoughts almost too quick to keep up with.

But the fear of losing what I've already come to depend on is all-encompassing. I take a breath and close my eyes and try to clear my mind of the dread. Hermione has always been braver than me. It should make no surprise she's braver about this too.

I roll us gently to the side, and she makes a little huffing sound as she gets comfortable with the tangled sheets as a pillow. Our heads aren't even on the right side of the bed. My feet are touching the headboard.

I rise up on one elbow and prop my head up with my hand. Even though it's summer outside, it's chilly in the upper parts of the townhouse, and Hermione's skin breaks out in goosebumps. I should cover her with the comforter, but I don't want to impede my view. I cast a silent warming charm around us, and she lets loose a sigh of contentment.

Mi was right, I am brooding, and this isn't the time or place for it. Not here, when it's just her and me.

The stakes in the game have escalated with Hermione's and my bonds. To borrow Ron's analogy, the pieces on the chessboard have changed. But there's nothing I can do about it here and now, so I try to push it out of my mind.

The townhouse isn't like Hogwarts. She's safe up here with me. Nobody knows about our bonds yet. Even if Riddle did somehow find out about Hermione, there's a hell of a lot of people between him and us.

Hermione is safe enough.

I use her stillness to take the opportunity to admire her openly.

I've always known she was beautiful. In an intrinsic sort of way. Like I knew she was brilliant. It's simply a part of who she is. But it's different now. Before, I wasn't really allowed to look. Now, she belongs to me. I can look all I please. I might even go so far as to say it's my duty as her husband.

I can't decide if it's sweet or perverse that even now, though I see how lovely she is, I think about how stunning she becomes. Hermione is going to be a force to be reckoned with, and I find that's sexy as hell.

I bury my nose into the mass of curls falling lopsidedly from the pile on top of her head and inhale the scent of the conditioner.

I trail my finger down her side and watch the way her body shivers. There's a smattering of freckles all over her skin. A scar, under her belly button and to the right, where I know she had her appendix out when she was six.

I love the way her hips flare wide, before smoothing into the sinch of her waist. I love the pink of her nipples, compared to the creamy skin of her breasts. I run my hands over the outside of her legs, and feel the muscles in her thighs, even though she's soft and pliable under my touch.

I adore the baby doll pink bra when I had always assumed she'd be a plain cotton girl.

The thatch of hair between her legs is damp and perfect, and with a gentle push of my hands and maybe a little bit of magic, I have her on her back and her legs spread without waking her up.

Merlin.

Her quim is so soft. So delicate. She's pink and puffy and hot.

She's a fucking mess.

The Scourgify charm is one of the first things teenage boys learn. Or so I was told by Dean Thomas when he walked into the dorm at the wrong time, and I was cleaning up with an old t-shirt. After Fifth-year all the boys switched to Evanesco. Vanishing is easier than cleaning.

Why leave the evidence behind when you can wipe it all away with the flick of your wand?

But I was too in my own head, and Mi was trying too hard to pull me out, to think about cleaning up the aftereffects of our sex. So instead, my cum is seeping out of her.

I'm sure we have a book on fetishes sitting around here somewhere. I'm going to have to hunt it down and see if cum fetishes are a thing. Because if it is, I officially have one.

Hermione makes a whimpering sound when I run my hands up the inside of her thighs. My skin feels too tight, pulled taught against my bones. I want to plunge inside her and fuck her so hard and fast I forget my name. I want to take my time, to make it last forever.

Slick is pooling between her legs, and I can smell our sex in the air. Taste it on the tip of my tongue. I never knew that desire had a scent until now.

I run my fingers through her curls and gather our combined fluids on my fingertips. Her aura burns like a fire in the back of my mind, flaring sharp and hot as she wakes up to my mouth kissing her clit.

It's swollen and thick against my tongue, that little nub that makes up her pleasure centre.

Mi lifts up on an elbow and catches my eyes. Her gaze is penetrating, and I feel her stare deep inside my gut.

With a hand on her upper inner thigh, I spread her legs and admire the rosy and shiny flesh. Every shade of cream and pink can be found between her legs. I dip my fingers between her arse crack, and Hermione makes a shocking sort of choking sound at the back of her throat, jerking her hips from the bed. Her head falls back on the mattress. I place a hand on her lower belly to hold her still and drag my fingers through her folds before pressing into her crest.

"What are you doing?" she asks. Her voice is high and tight. I accidentally answer her before I can think it through.

"Pushing my cum back inside you," I murmur. Hermione arches up off the bed and my name falls brokenly from her lips.

"Har-ry," she whimpers quietly, and that? That's a sound worth living for. It's a sound I plan on spending the rest of my life pulling from her mouth.

"Can I—?"

The words get stuck in my throat.

Need wraps around my solar plexus, and I can hardly breathe for the want of it.

I feel feverish. Dizzy. I feel like someone hit me with a Metelojinx and a storm is brewing inside my chest.

I suck her little bud into my mouth and flick it with my tongue. Mi tries to squish my ears between her knees, and I push her thighs back down. Instead, she runs her nails over my scalp. Her reaction is addictive.

I attempt to ask again.

"Can we—?"

Fuck. My brain is fuzzy. Hermione spreads her legs even wider and grips her fists into the sheets. I pull my hand from her quim, and my fingers are wet and covered with our combined juices. I take a moment to suck on the digits, before plunging them back into her snatch.

Her moan is out of this world.

Fuck.

I'm fucking into the mattress, but it doesn't do a thing to ease the pressure building in my balls.

"Can I lick you again?" I finally get out, and Hermione melts into the bed.

Like me, it takes her a minute to get the words out. She tries to answer me multiple times, but every time she opens her mouth a moan escapes instead.

"It's a little late to ask," she finally says through a weak laugh and a twitching body.

She's not wrong. My lips are only inches above her pelvic bone, and my lips are shiny with her cum. I trail my tongue along her pussy, and Hermione writhers under my touch.

"Can I fuck you then?" I say instead. "Please?" and her only response is to whimper.

I'll take that as a yes.

I keep my hand between her legs, twisting my fingers inside her in time to the thundering of my heart. It takes more effort than it should to climb to my knees. To kneel between her thighs.

My lips light a trail along her body, sucking and kissing and biting as I go. Every time my teeth scrape against her sensitive flesh, she makes a noise that almost sounds like a plea.

Molten lava has taken the place of my blood cells, thrumming along in my veins in its place.

Hermione is already shuddering. Her hands claw at my shoulders, pulling me closer to her.

"You're so fucking beautiful," I whisper in her ear.

She links her arms around my neck and forces my face to hers. Her kiss is filthy and deep. She licks into my mouth, all of her barriers dropped and open.

When I line myself up with her opening, my hands are shaking.

"Please?" I ask again. I need her like I need oxygen, but I won't take her without her okay.

"Yesss," she hisses, and I slide into her centre, as easy as if I've been doing it for years.

She feels like velvet. Like velvet and heat and home. I rest my forehead on hers, trying to catch my breath.

"You feel so good around me," I mumble. I don't even know what I'm saying at this point. I've lost all control over my bodily functions. I'm just moving on instinct alone. She plants her feet and thrusts up to meet me, and I pause on the precipice, trying to pull my scattered thoughts back under control.

"Let go," Hermione whispers, and I open my eyes to see her staring at me.

I do.

Magic drips from my pores, and Hermione's rushes out to meet it. I didn't even know that a person's magic could do that. It's staggering in its intensity, to feel it lick along our skin. Our magic is like its own entity, straining to meet its match.

I'm suddenly ravenous, and I thrust into her as if Hermione is the only thing that can fill the void.

Her legs go around my hips. She bucks underneath me, meeting me thrust for thrust. It sets me on fire. Liquid heat pools in my belly. Her magic rubs against me like a cat, and I groan as her magical aura merges with mine.

With every joining of our bodies, Hermione moans and sighs, and it only spurs me on. I bury my head into the mattress. Hide my face in her throat. She lets out a keening wail when I tilt my hips and fuck her hard, and my hand immediately slips to her side, pinning her to the bed.

The sounds of her breaths and hisses fill my ears. The slapping of skin against skin echoes in the room.

"I'm gonna—" she pants, her breathing reaching a fever pitch. "I'm gonna…"

Her muscles are trembling beneath me. Her body is pulled as tight as a wire. Our skin is slick with sweat and magic. It pools in the small of my back and drips down her brow. With the twist of my body and the flick of my wrist, I pull her leg up around my shoulder and slip that much deeper inside her.

The sounds she makes. It's otherworldly.

My pelvis grinds into her pussy, and Hermione bursts apart at the seams.

She's magnificent in her breaking. Her body becomes weak and pliant underneath me, and her mind explodes into a kaleidoscope of colour. I've never felt anything like it.

My name falls from her lips in a broken cry.

How one person can feel so many different things at once is breathtaking.

It's like chasing a unicorn off the edge of a cliff. Jumping off your broom, and that perfect moment when your hand circles around the snitch before you're free-falling without a net.

It's absolute bliss for the pounding of a heartbeat. Then I stiffen with her arms around my shoulders, her legs around my hips, and my cock buried as deep inside her as I can get.

My skin is vibrating. My muscles burn.

Hermione is running her fingers over my shoulders, whispering into my ear. I try to catch my breath while Mi tells me how good that felt and how much she loves me, and did I know my magic had a flavour?

I collapse on top of her when my arm gives out and she huffs a painful sounding squeak at the impact.

"My bad," I say through barely controlled laughter.

She tries to laugh and instead groans as my weight presses her into the mattress.

"Why are you so heavy?" she grumbles and between her push and my pull we switch positions so I'm on the bottom and she's tucked into my side.

My heart is thundering out of my chest, and Hermione's echoes like a bird.

"I think I did better that time."

It comes out in parts, as I'm still huffing with Mi's head on my shoulder.

"What did I say?" she replies, her own breath still feathers light and patchy. "Practice makes perfect."

I try to kiss her, but fail, and she collapses into giggles again.

"I need a bath," Mi says with a small sigh, and I blush horribly knowing that I'm the reason why.

"Sorry," I mumble.

I drag my eyes over her flushed skin and see the evidence of our sex all over her body, from the wetness once again dripping from between her legs, to the bites up and down her throat and torso.

I don't feel all that sorry, to be honest. She looks lovely and debauched, and like she belongs to me.

I run a silent scourgify over her anyway, and Hermione shakes her head.

"That's not going to cut it," she laughs quietly.

She slides to the edge of the bed and slips from the mattress, pulling the sheet around her as she goes. A chuckle escapes me at the sight of her covered armpits to toes by the green material. It looks like a weirdly shaped dress.

"Will you take one with me?" she asks in a timid voice. Hermione holds out her hand. The fire that is Hermione thrums in the back of my head and tingles with nerves and uncertainty. "Unless you're afraid to bathe with a girl..."

Hermione is absolutely fascinating, she really is. Wakes me up with her mouth mere inches from my prick without a second thought, but gets dodgy asking me to join her in the bath.

"Sure," I reply with a small smile, then follow her into the loo.

Hermione is right, as a bath is a brilliant idea. Once we settle into the tub, I let my head fall back on the rim of the claw foot monstrosity and slip a smidgen further into the water. Mi has her back to my chest, and her head resting on my shoulder.

My fingers trail up and down her arms, leaving little pebbles of gooseflesh where I go.

"You know, I can't remember the last time I took a bath. Fourth-year with the egg, probably."

"So, three years ago or a couple of months, depending on how you measure," she laughs. "I love soaking in a bath, the hotter the better."

The pink tinge to her skin pays truth to that statement, as the steam wafts from the top of the water.

Mi didn't turn on the overhead lights, and instead conjured her balls of fire so the room is filled with a soft bluish glow. It's so peaceful in here, like the rest of the world doesn't exist. It reminds me of the Forest of Dean.

"You're a really good kisser," Mi says out of the blue. "Did I tell you that yet?"

I huff into the top of her head and place a kiss into the wet curls pulled long and lanky.

"Thanks, I guess. It's not from copious amounts of experience, I assure you. I don't know how many times I have to tell you that anything I do right between us is because of you."

"What?" she says in a teasing tone. "No muggle girls on the side? No secret snogging of Hannah Abbot in the broom cupboards."

I shake my head, even though she can't see me.

"None," I assure her. "I've only kissed two girls before you. Cho and Ginny, and since Cho was crying at the time, I'm not sure she should really count. There was a muggle girl during the summer between Fifth and Sixth-year one time, but funny enough, Dumbledore showed up and cock blocked me."

Hermione bursts into giggles, the sound infectious and bouncing off the porcelain walls.

"I kissed Seamus once," I admit to her because I've apparently lost all sense of self-preservation.

Mi makes a choking sound and the water in the tub sloshes over the edge when she sits up and turns to the side to look at me.

"Excuse me?" she says, delight dancing in her eyes.

I fight down the rush of embarrassment that wants to escape, and instead scratch at the scruff on my face.

"I was thirteen, maybe? He convinced me we needed to practice; in case we ever got the opportunity to snog a girl."

She snorts and bites her lips closed, bringing her hand to smother the lower parts of her face.

"You know that Seamus is gay, right?" she asks through controlled giggles. I roll my eyes at her.

"Yes," I assure her. "I know that…now. I shared a room with him for almost a decade. I didn't know it at the time. I'm not sure he did. Maybe it was my kissing that sinched the deal."

Mi stops trying to hide her giggles, instead laughing full out.

"I wonder how many other boys he got to snog him under the guise of practice?" she asks. I shake my head.

"I have no idea," I tell her honestly. Her happiness is delightful, and the fire in my head burns with it. It's like my own personal metronome, feeding me a constant flow of information about the woman in front of me. "Probably a few. He was very convincing."

"Are you in the closet?" she asks in a playful tone.

I smile at her and run my hands through my half damp hair.

"Not in this lifetime," I tell her. "We'll see which body your soul lands in during the next."

Mi giggles again, then turns back around, settling herself against my chest. I wrap my arms around her, enjoying the feel of her weight pushing me deeper into the water.

"Your turn," I prompt, placing my chin on top of her head. "Was Krum a good kisser?"

I try to sound sarcastic, but I'm not sure I pull it off. It's more of a dry angry sound.

"You really want to talk about this?" she asks, and I shrug my shoulders.

It helps that I don't have to see her face.

"Fair's fair," I tell her. "You know all of mine."

She makes a noise deep in her throat.

"Ron would be barking if I tried to tell him about kissing Krum," she says succinctly. There's no denying that.

"Yes well, Ron has the emotional range of a teaspoon, remember? It doesn't bother me," I assure her. "Honestly. I can't exactly kill every guy you've ever kissed before, simply because they kissed you in another timeline."

Not that the thought hasn't crossed my mind.

I feel her roll her eyes.

"Krum was an excellent kisser," she says in that matter of fact tone she has. "Though, he should be, as he's had a bit of practice. You don't get to be an international quidditch player without kissing your fair share of girls."

I'm glad she can't see me smile.

On it went.

Worst kisses and best kisses. First crushes and last. Everything we never talked about because it brought us too close to the line. That invisible one that we couldn't acknowledge, but was there nonetheless, that kept us separated between best friends and something more.

"I've never been to the cinema with a boy."

The water would have long since chilled if it weren't being kept heated by magic. Hermione showed me how to wash her hair, and I'm running my fingers through the silky strands as the detangling potion that Winky gave her drips from the ends of her hair.

"Neither have I," I say, and Hermione laughs at me.

"You know what I meant!" she jokes, splashing water over her shoulder so it splatters in my face.

"We can go this summer then. I'm sure the Weasley's would love it."

"Just what I wanted," she says dryly. "A group date with Ron."

I laugh at that.

"You know as well as I do, there's no way we're getting out of this house alone. We'd have to stun and bound the lot of them."

Hermione sighs, then leans back against my chest.

"I actually enjoyed primary school. I'm still not all that fused about math, but I really like Reading, and History if you can believe it."

"You're joking," she says with a smile in her voice. "History. Really?"

"Really," I confirm. "British History is a lot more interesting than the Goblin Wars. Especially when it's not taught by a ghost. Dudley and I were in the same grade, but the years where I didn't share a class with him were great. I had this one teacher, Mrs. Watson, who used to sneak me sweets and sandwiches. Even when I moved up to the next grade, she always made sure I had lunch at least once or twice a week."

We've changed our positions in the tub so that my back is to her front. She took my glasses off and is running her fingers through my hair as suds drip into my eye.

Her anger at my childhood makes my blood tingle.

"I hate them, Harry. I really, really do."

She places her chin on my shoulder, and I lean my head sideways, so my cheek is against hers.

"It doesn't matter, Mi. Not anymore. I never have to go back there again. Dudley wasn't so bad after I saved his life."

She makes a tisking sound, and her arms wrap around my chest.

"If only we'd known about the bonds sooner. If we did, we could have gotten you out last time. You could have come and lived with my parents and me as early as First-year maybe…"

I turn my body slightly to bring her into my view and place my hand over hers.

"You're with me now," I assure her. "That's all that matters."

Her legs are wrapped around my hips, her arms draped across my shoulders. My head is against her chest and my feet are sticking out the other side of the tub. I have no idea how we ended up like this, but it's actually not all that uncomfortable. Her fingers keep drawing tiny patterns into my skin, and I'm trying to guess what it is.

"Did we buy a book on sexual fetishes?"

She jerks with a surprise behind me.

"I don't know. Maybe? Why? Or do I not want to know?" Her voice gets all squishy, like she's just seen something disgusting. "I've created a monster, I'm sure."

That's true. She has no one to blame but herself.

"I think I'm obsessed with seeing you covered in cum," I say nonchalantly.

Mi bursts into surprised laughter, and with a shove on my shoulders, dunks me into the water. I splutter in amusement and outrage as water goes up my nose.

"My parents have an old record player with hundreds of albums. They'd play it after dinner, and my dad would pull my mom into his arms and sway around the living room."

Mi is sitting on my lap facing me. I'm cross-legged under her bum, and her ankles are latched behind my back. My toes are so pruney I'm sure they're about to fall off.

It's such a foreign concept to me, parents being in love and happy. While the Dursley's spoiled Dudley rotten, they didn't exactly show each other a lot of attention.

"That sounds wonderful," I tell her. "The only time I got to listen to music was when we were in the car, and it was always the stuff that Dudley wanted to hear."

"The Beatles are my favourite," she says, twirling her fingers in my hair at the base of my skull.

"The Beatles are everybody's favourite," I smile. "Even I know who they are."

"Mum and Dad told me I can have the player while they're away. We can go into Muggle London and pick out a few new records if you want. Something from this decade perhaps."

I run my thumbs along the outside of her ribs, and she shudders under my touch.

"Whatever you want."

Anything she wants. It's the least I can do for her putting up with me.

"I think I want to get my eyes fixed. Charming my glasses to my face before every battle doesn't seem very practical. 'Excuse me, Lord Voldemort, kind sir. Would you mind waiting until I stick my glasses to my nose?'"

Hermione chuckles, rolling her eyes at me.

"Can they do that magically?"

My chin drops to my chest, and I stare at her with an astonished expression.

"How am I supposed to know? You're the one who's supposed to know everything."

Hermione blushes and dips her chin to the side.

"I'm sure you can, yes." She straightens said glasses on my face and runs her hand through my messy hair. "But I like your glasses, as handsome as you are without them. If we get your eyes fixed, I think you should keep wearing them anyway. We could switch your lenses with regular glass, and charm them like Moody's magical eye. Or like Iron Man's helmet if you've ever read any of the Marvel comic books. They can read you diagnostic information."

That sounds just a little bit terrifying.

"I can't say that I have. Do you read comics?"

She bites her bottom lip and nods, her cheeks flushing hotter than the water around us.

But of course, Hermione reads comic books. Why doesn't that surprise me?

"I also found a spell in one of those books we got from Knockturn about permanent glamour spells. I thought we could get you several pairs of glasses, and tie an identity to each pair."

That's…

"That's ingenious, Mi. Brilliant!"

"Your prick is poking me."

She doesn't seem to mind it much if the gentle rocking of her hips is any indication. I dig my hands into her hair, the top layer drying and the ends still trailing in the water.

Her back arches as I tighten my fist into the hair at the base of her neck, and her breasts bob beautifully in the water.

"You're naked, on my lap, and I have the hormones of a fifteen-year-old boy. I think you're going to have to get used to it. It's going to be like that for the next fifty years or so."

Keeping my eyes on her, I lean forward and trail my lips over her collarbone.

She adjusts herself so my cock moves from underneath her bum and springs free between us. It doesn't help. If anything, it makes it worse. I'm centred between her legs, and I can feel her lower body caressing my dick with every move of her hips.

"Is that all?" she coos, and if I wasn't hard before, I'd certainly be hard at the way her voice slithers over my skin. "Just fifty years? I thought you said we lived until two hundred. Is this your way of telling me our sex life will be short?"

"Hardly."

Mi's eyes are closed, and her head is bowed backwards, exposing a glorious line of her throat.

"I don't remember how old we were, to be honest. I don't care either. Pluck the memory from my mind if you really want to know. I already know too much about our future as far as I'm concerned. The future can be changed. We're proof of that. I'm simply hoping that in fifty years or so, I'll have better control over my hard-ons," I say playfully, kissing up and down her neck.

"Oh, I hope you don't," Hermione says with a sigh. She rubs herself against me, the water lapping gently in the tub. It's not exactly a lubricant, but it's not unpleasant either. "I rather like the thought of you getting hard when I walk into a room well into your sixties."

Her nails scrape down my back, and something wonderful jolts in my stomach.

"You're in luck then," I assure her, "because I can't imagine a time that doesn't happen."

"On your belly. On the bed."

Hermione's eyes go wide at my words. Water is still dripping from her hair. Her nipples peaked from the cool air of the bedroom. I dip my head, and take her breast into my mouth, walking her backwards towards the bed with my hands on her hips.

With a swish of my hand, the fire roars to life in the hearth. It fills the space with a warm golden glow.

There's food sitting under a stasis charm on the table. A mug of wine and two goblets already filled. The sheets have been changed, the pillows fluffed, and the comforter pulled down.

I need to give the elves a raise.

I suck at the skin around her nipple, nipping it with my teeth until I hear her hiss. Then I move to another spot, to leave my mark again.

"Wh-what?" she asks, her voice broken and faltering.

"Did I stutter? Is there a Muffliato filling your ears? I want you on your hands and knees. On the bed. Now." Her eyes go dark and stormy. Her magic flares around us, and it envelops me in a cocoon. I swear it has a yellow tint. I feel it as if it were a physical being.

"Unless you're finally tired," I say, and she quickly shakes her head no.

I don't have any idea what time it is.

"You sleep better when you're worn out," she says in an offhand sort of way. "Which means I sleep better too. Really, it's only logical for us to go again."

I smile against her chest; glad she can't see my face.

"Makes perfect sense," I agree.

If that's what she wants to tell herself.

We hit the bed with the thump, and Mi places her hands behind her on the mattress. I latch onto her hips and give her a lift, practically tossing her into the middle of the bed. Nerves are running through her; her heart is beating out of her chest.

In stark contrast, this is the most in control I've felt all night. Maybe even in weeks. Months.

Hermione…she's not moving fast enough. I grab her by the hips and flip her around. Her squeal of surprise lights me up from the inside out.

I crawl my way on top of her and settle my legs outside her thighs. I run my hands up her sides and she shivers under my touch.

"I don't think I can be gentle," I whisper against the back of her ear. A full-bodied spasm rips through her limbs.

Oh, I like that. I dart my tongue out and lick her there, and she bucks against the bedspread.

"I don't remember asking."

Her voice is tight and needy. It's like a kick in the gut. It's all the permission I need.

I pull off her enough to have space to move. I grab her by the hips and yank her arse in the air. I can smell the sweet tang of her pussy, and I use my knee to push her legs further apart, to get a better view.

I get it now. I really do.

I never understood butt stuff, even though some of the boys talked about it like it was the holy grail.

But seeing Hermione on her knees with her forehead hidden in the mattress; her cheeks spread, and her arsehole puckered tight. Yeah. I get it.

"Are you just going to stare at me?"

It's muffled in the pillow, but it echoes in my head. Mi starts to squirm, moving forward and backward and side to side, trying to disrupt my view.

"Yes," I answer heatedly, and take her ample arse in my hands and spread her cheeks wider. She groans into the pillow, then hikes it higher under her chest. It changes the angle of her hips, making her back flat. Without a word I reach underneath her and yank the pillow out then toss it to the floor.

She folds in on herself, back arched, elbows and forehead on the mattress.

Mi hisses a word I've never heard from her mouth before.

I'm so hard it hurts.

"Let's see how you like it when I put you on all fours and stare at your asshole," she growls through clenched teeth.

"Fair's fair," I reply distractedly.

I place my hand on the small of her back, holding her there firmly, then let my fingers trail down her crack.

Hermione jerks and shudders like I thought she would, but my hand holds her in place. I rub my thumb over her hole, and sparks burst from her fingertips.

Holy shit.

I think her quim has gotten tighter as the night has gone on. Logic would dictate the opposite would happen, but no. She's swollen as tight as a drum. Her muscles clench around me when I slip two fingers into her core.

"Fuck," she says on a sigh. Tension is already dancing up and down her middle. The muscles in her back flex and twitch under my palm. Her fire burns inside me, desperate in a way that's new and mine.

Mi shoves herself back on my hand.

"Stop teasing me!" she wines.

I thought I was teasing me.

I suck my fingers clean before grasping her hips, and grasp my cock in my hand. Pushing inside her is like pushing into a too-small embrace.

The sharp bite of pain courses in the bond between us. I freeze with my hands on her hips.

"Are you okay?"

She slips a little down on the bed, changing the way I enter her.

"Mm-hmm," she hums. Her hands fist into the sheets by her head. She turns her face until she's resting on her cheek. She pushes back against me, taking my prick the rest of the way inside her quim. The pain is still there, but it's mixed and blended until it tastes like bliss against my tongue. "I thought you weren't going to be gentle?"

My dick throbs at her words.

I pull back out until only the tip remains, then slam back inside.

Her groan is guttural. She convulses as I watch. I can count all the vertebrae in her spine like this. See the outline of her ribs.

"Again."

Has there ever been a sound so beautiful, like that of Hermione asking me to fuck her?

I drive into her pussy until my hips are flush with her arse, and then I push a little bit more. Every blossom of pain explodes into a fission of pleasure.

Her fire is going to consume me.

The sight of my prick disappearing inside her quim is going to push me over the edge before we even get started. It's the best sort of magic trick there is. Every time I pull out my cock it is wetter than it was before. Thicker. Harder. Then with a shove and a grunt, my dick is lost inside her again.

"Mine," I growl with every snap of my hips.

"Yours," she agrees, voice tight and halting.

Mine. Mine to protect. Mine to keep safe. Mine to make come in as many ways as I can imagine. Mine.

Hermione's hair is drying in a frizzy mess, and the way it spreads across her shoulders and the sheets just makes me fuck her harder.

I'm not going to last. All my talk about getting better, and I can't keep it up for more than a few minutes before I need to come all over her arse. But I'll be damned if I get off and she doesn't. Not when the feel of her is so bloody delicious.

I slip my hand around the front of her, and find the slick bud I've tried so hard to memorize. If the burst of energy through our connection wasn't enough to tell me I hit the right stop, her almost violent tremble would be enough.

I said that I wouldn't be gentle, but she's meeting me thrust for thrust, riding me with an almost single-minded determination to get herself off.

It's building from her toes. Her magic is pulling at me. Something primal and merciless and purely instinctual. I release my hold on my power, and let it join hers. Her legs tremble. Her stomach clenches.

When she comes her magic blasts in all directions, and all I can do is hold on for the ride. I bend myself around her shoulders, latch my arms around her waist, and feel her heart thunder through her rib cage, as I let my orgasm take me too.

The fire explodes in a shower of ashes as our combined magics crest and fall. Hermione collapses underneath me, and this time I manage to move to the side, so I don't suffocate her with our weight.

The only sounds are the harshness of our breathing, until someone knocks at the door.

"Is everything okay in there?" Sirius asks, sounding highly amused.

It takes two tries for me to find my voice.

"Dueling," I bark out harshly. "Go away."

"We're fine," Mi shouts, her voice much steadier than mine.

"I just bet you are," Sirius laughs, before the silence takes us again.

I do a quick Tempus charm, and see it's almost three a.m. Sirius and Lupin are on the complete opposite side of the house.

This means our burst of power probably woke them up.

Damn.

"Add that to your paper, Mi," I say once my breathing is back under control. "I'm sure that's something the academics would want to know."

I try to sit up, but get a look at her legs half sprawled and the mess we still haven't cleaned up.

My dick gives a feeble lurch to get back in the game.

Not happening dude.

I wave my hand over her rump and sadly Hermione is clean as new.

Mi crawls until her head hits the pillows before collapsing onto her side.

"Remind me tomorrow to add wards to the bedroom. Everything we used for the tent, but permanent."

She's asleep before I drag myself beside her.

With a tug of magic, which feels very wobbly to tell you the truth, I pull the blankets up to our shoulders.

Then I'm asleep too.