Chapter 13: Learning curve

Percy felt like he had just stepped into one of his dreams, but then again this felt much more real than what his mind had made as a teenager discovering the fascination of women for the first time, or later, as a lonely adult. Hermione was here, leaning against him, her long wet curls sticking to the naked skin of his chest and shoulders as she rested her head against him. Her eyes were closed, her mouth slightly open, small pants and hums escaping it as he carefully explored her body. Last time there had barely been a chance for him to do so, mostly because he felt her aversion towards him looking or touching her. Now Hermione was resting comfortably against him, the only emotions he felt from her being excitement, curiosity and lust. There was no denying the latter because even though Hermione would probably not admit it, her kisses and dilated pupils gave away her arousal. Not to forget the way she'd looked at him ever since they entered the bathroom…

Percy had never felt so seen or wanted, not even the few times he and Penelope got as far as having sex. His ex-girlfriend had always been kind and sweet, but she'd never looked at him with as much desire and surprise as Hermione did today. He couldn't help but wonder what she thought, as her caramel-brown eyes took in his naked body, entirely unaware of how tempting she looked as she bit her lip. Like he was something worthy of being desired. But he knew he wasn't. Which was why he couldn't figure out what that looked meant. Or why it was targeted at him.

Pushing those thoughts away Percy focussed on the task at hand, not that it was difficult to do so. Right now, Hermione was all he wanted to think about, the flowery scent of her hair and the softness of her skin was alluring to his senses already. He needed to be careful not to get too carried away, as he'd need his full concentration for what he planned to do.

"Tell me when I'm doing something you don't like… or something that you do," he murmured before he pressed his lips against her neck. Meanwhile, his hands wandered down her sides, stopping to caress the curves of her breasts. "How does this feel?" he inquired, brushing his fingers over the quickly hardening nipples. "Good?"

"Definitely not bad," Hermione supplied, encouraging him to continue. And that, he did. Bit by bit he allowed himself to touch her, her breasts, her sides and thighs and lastly the sensitive parts hidden by the triangle of soft hair between her legs. This time she was ready for him; not that he planned on having sex with her at this exact moment. Right now this was entirely about her and the pleasure a good husband gives his wife.

Percy wasn't in a hurry as the soft skin beneath his fingers and his wife's soft moans and whimpers were positively addictive to him. He was determined to learn her body inside and out, to find out all the things that aroused her and made her moan, not only for her pleasure but for his as well. Because as Hermione rested on top of him, her back arched and her legs quivering, he found that there was nothing more arousing to him than to see this woman slowly come undone.

"Percy, oh my god, just like that…"

He smiled against her skin as he gently kissed along her neck, soaking up her moans and whimpers. "Please don't stop…"

Stopping was the last thing on his mind. "I won't," he promised, sucking her skin as he pushed his fingers inside her, his thumb circling her sensitive spot the way she pleaded him to. He could feel she was getting close, or at least he thought she was, as all the signs were there.

Only that she suddenly pushed his hand away and turned around, looking at him with wide, pleading eyes. "Percy, can we… could you have sex with me?" she asked, smashing her mouth to his before he could answer. Before he could say a word she was climbing onto his lap, her folds brushing against his erection. There was no denying he wanted her and yet he had wanted to make sure she found her release before he went as far as having sex with her.

"Please."

A part of him wanted to deny her, afraid of a repetition of their last time, when he'd spilt his seed leaving her unsated and disappointed. But no, this was different, he told himself, taking in the way Hermione rocked her body against his cock. And, Merlin, he wanted to bury himself inside her!

"Alright, yes." Squinting his eyes he looked for his wand, finding it where he always left it when he took a shower or bath, on the small cupboard next to the tub. It was just out of reach for him. "Can you give me my wand first?"

"Your wand? What do you need your wand for?" she asked confusedly, but handed over his wand anyway. Giving her a small smile he cast a sticking charm to his feet, making sure he would not slip when he tried to move inside her. Her eyes widened when she understood what he had done.

"Clever," she praised him, before capturing his lips into a lingering kiss. "Very, very clever."

He smiled against her lips, pride flooding him at her praise. It was quickly chased away by the arousal he felt as he realised she was grinding herself against him, probably in the hope to receive the friction she needed.

"Come here," he told her, positioning his length in a way that would enable him to enter her. Immediately she wiggled against him, sinking lower and lower, taking him in inch by inch. Moaning, his head fell back onto the edge of the tub, the water splashing a little at the sudden movement. The feeling of the tightness surrounding him was almost too much to take. How could this feel so good, so right?

It was impossible for him to find the answer to that question, as his rational thinking was switched off as soon as Hermione started moving on top of him. Her head thrown backwards she rode him, her breath coming out in quick pants. But no, this wouldn't be enough, he feared, reaching out to her with his hand, stroking her clit once more. Immediately he was rewarded with a gasp and the sight of her teeth biting her lip as she pushed herself onto him over and over, her breasts bouncing up and down to the rhythm. It was the sexiest thing Percy had ever seen and he was sure he'd forever remember this moment, the first time he saw his wife fall apart right in front of him. He barely registered her calling out his name before she climaxed, pulling him right over the edge only moments later, ecstasy washing over him like a wave that broke and tore him away into the ocean. He went willingly, not even trying to hold back. Cradling her petite body he spilt his seed into her, moaning her name in the hope she'd hear it and know what she'd done to him, how much he'd loved this. But there was no way for him to know, as he lost himself in the ecstasy and relief that flooded him. Only when Hermione started moving on top of him did he open his eyes, unable to hide the happy smile that spread across his lips.

"That was…" Hermione broke off with a shake of her head, seemingly lost for words. He took it as a good sign. "Thank you, Percy."

"Thank you, for trusting me," for letting me see you like this, vulnerable and oh-so-gorgeous as you come undone, he added in his mind. "I know it isn't easy to let go. I experience the same problem from time to time."

"You do?"

He nodded, before reaching for his wand and undoing the sticking charm on his feet. "I have read that it might be a common problem for people with higher intelligence. Do you want to get out of the tub now? The water is slowly starting to get cold. I could apply a heating charm, but…"

"No, let's get out. I'm all wrinkled already…" The way she scrunched her nose at those words made Percy want to kiss her, but he resisted. He wasn't sure if such shows of affections were still welcome now that the heat of the moment had passed.

After a quick wash, they quietly climbed out of the tub and dried themselves, Percy putting on his dressing down before combing his fingers through his hair. "Do you want to go to bed? Or would you like to stay up a little longer and maybe have a glass of wine on the sofa?"

Wrapping a large towel around her body, Hermione shook her head at his words. "Staying up a little longer would be better, because if I go to bed now, with my hair still wet, I'll look a fright tomorrow. It's the same whenever I try to use heat on it…" She pulled a face. "Better not."

"I see." At first, he hadn't really known what he was hoping for but now that he knew her answer, he noticed the small pang of disappointment in his chest. A sentimental part of him had already imagined them snuggling in bed, enjoying their post-coital bliss. How stupid of him. Just because Hermione had felt attracted to him didn't mean that she was forming any form of emotional attachment, or that he was. With time they'd certainly grow to love and appreciate each other and maybe also seek out each other's company, but to expect so after only a week of marriage would have been delusional.

Leaving Hermione behind in the bathroom, Percy put on a pair of comfortable slippers and walked into the living room. There he chose one of the books Hermione had brought from the shelves and settled onto his favourite armchair. When he finished the second page, Hermione entered the room on bare feet. She had put on her tartan flannel pyjamas, she seemed to have several sets in different colours, and as soon as she sat down on the sofa her cat jumped onto her lap, yowling for his mistress' attention.

Hermione granted it to Crookshanks with a happy little smile on her lips, pulling her crocheted blanket over her feet before readjusting her position in a way that would allow her to comfortably lean back and pet her familiar. Percy couldn't help but watch the two of them over the pages of his book, a strange kind of longing and jealousy taking hold of him. It was the most irrational thing to feel jealous of a cat, he knew, but it didn't help that a pair of yellow eyes kept watching smugly. It was like the damned cat knew that Hermione would only touch Percy temporarily, but never like this so full of happiness and affection. And Percy had to be careful not to resent the animal for something, that was probably only a figment of his imagination.

It wasn't long until he saw Hermione's eyes grow heavy and blink closed, her head coming to rest against the backrest of the sofa. Her cat purred once more, maybe hoping to catch his mistress' attention once more but as soon as it realised his effort didn't pay off, it jumped from her lap, retreating into the highest basket of its cat tree.

Should he wake Hermione up and ask her to go to bed? Surely she would strain her neck if she kept sleeping like this. But did this give him the right to wake her? He knew how difficult it was for him to fall asleep and even though Hermione didn't seem to share the same difficulties, he couldn't be entirely sure. No, it would be better to let her sleep after making sure she was comfortable enough. The question was how best to do that…

Going through his options Percy reached for his wand. He wasn't delusional enough to try carrying her without the help of magic. She most likely wasn't heavy but he wasn't a muscle-packed Adonis either. He wouldn't risk stumbling with her in his arms and hurting them both. There were much safer options.

Simply levitating his sleeping wife to bed didn't seem right either. She wasn't an object to be levitated around and to lift her up and carry her was too strong. A feather-light charm would have to do.

Storing his wand behind his ear he lifted his sleeping wife from the sofa, hosting her up bridal-style against his chest. Her head lolled to the side, coming to rest against him as he crossed the living room and the hallway on his way to their bedroom. Soon he had reached the bed and for a selfish moment he didn't want to let her go. It felt nice holding her like this, her face close enough for him to kiss her. But no…

Sighing, he pressed a gentle kiss onto Hermione's forehead, a small sentimental gesture he simply couldn't resist. Then he lowered her onto the bed and covered her with her blanket before returning to the living room to ready the flat for the night. Soon, he found himself climbing into bed next to her and again he had to resist the urge to pull her close and bury his nose into her hair. He didn't know where the impulse came from but he probably had their recently shared intimacies to blame. Having sex with Hermione like this had been most satisfying, not only on a primal but also on an emotional level. It must have awoken something inside him, the awareness of how alone he had been and the wish for a constant human presence in his life. Hermione could be this presence, she was his wife after all, and whatever place she'd want to take in his life would have to be enough. With time, his heart surely would adjust and learn to make do with whatever she was willing to give him. However little it might be, it would still be so much more than he'd ever had before.