Chapter 19: Out of control

It had been years that Percy was awoken by the sunshine tickling his face instead of his inner restlessness but here he was, stretching himself after what felt like a sinful amount of sleep, feeling the woman of his dreams stir in his arms. Hermione was still there, resting peacefully on his shoulder, a happy smile playing on her face as she slowly awoke. Last night had been wonderful in a way he failed to find words for. Everything had felt so intense, Hermione's raw emotions clashing against him like a powerful wave but not to destroy, but to tear him away with her to unknown ground. And what ground it had been! Hermione had never been so vocal, so passionate with him, her moans and pleas urging him on to go further and hold on longer than he'd ever thought he'd be able to. And oh, her words of praise and gratitude when she'd later pulled him into her arms, showering his face with kisses as they came down from their high, slowly falling asleep in each other's arms.

Now, a few hours later, he could still feel Hermione on his skin, the marks her fire had left on him. Whenever he shifted he felt the soreness in his muscles or a slight pinch where she'd left a love bite and every time it happened he couldn't help the flutter of pride he felt. What they'd done hadn't just felt like sex, as this had been arousing on so many levels. He'd been almost about to come even before Hermione had even asked, nearly demanded, him to have sex with her, her passionate words and actions arousing him on a completely different level already. Looking back at it now he could hardly understand what had happened to him, but he was determined to think about it as soon as he found the chance to do so. Right now, with Hermione still sleeping in his arms, he'd rather focus on other things. He was grateful it was a Friday and therefore he wouldn't have a meeting until nine, which gave him a little more time before he had to get out of bed.

Smiling, he snuggled closer, burying his nose in Hermione's hair. Lately, she'd often smelled like the hospital, at least before she took a shower and washed the sharp scent away. Today she smelled like herself and Percy found that he couldn't get enough of her scent. Closing his eyes he took a deep breath, his heart feeling fuller and fuller until he thought it might be bursting with joy. This was how their marriage was supposed to be, full of fire and love and trust.

Sighing, Hermione shifted in his arms and a moment later her caramel brown eyes blinked open, focussing on him as she smiled lazily. "Good morning, Percy." She was obviously feeling better, Percy mused, noting the tone of affection in her voice. Only her eyes widened as soon as she focussed on him and she pulled away with a gasp, brown eyes taking him in with what looked like shock or panic. "Oh my god, Percy. Are you hurt? Did I… Oh my god, I'm so sorry."

At first, he didn't quite understand what she was referring to but then he followed her gaze, taking in the countless lovebites and scratches covering his skin. They looked… impressive, he had to admit, feeling nothing but pride when he looked at them.

"Don't be sorry," he told her, shaking his head. "I told you you could use me as an anchor if it made you feel better and it did. You were…" sexy, incredible, everything he didn't know he needed his mind supplied but he hastily pushed the thoughts away to search for a more suitable word. This hadn't been about sex for Hermione, not at first at least, and it wouldn't do to admit to her that he'd been turned on by her desperation.

"...You were in need of assistance and, as a good husband, comforting you was the least I could do," he therefore told her, noting the doubt and guilt in her eyes.

"But…" Hermione blinked, her fingers brushing gently over his shoulder. "I had no right to take my anger and frustration out on you. This… this wasn't right and I am deeply sorry. I swear… this won't happen again." He felt a small stab of regret at her words, even though he could understand the sentiment, her regret. He could only imagine how he would have felt in her place, faced with the consequences of him overstepping this line. He shuddered. He didn't even want to imagine it.

And yet. He didn't feel like he needed an apology from her. She hadn't hurt him, not really, and if he was honest with himself he'd liked every bite and every scratch she bestowed on him. He swallowed.

"Hermione, darling. Please believe me when I say you didn't hurt me. This is nothing that can't be healed within a minute…"

Hermione sighed. "I know. I…" Swallowing she brushed her fingers down his chest, gently tracing a bigger purple bruise that had started to form on his ribs. The touch of her fingers alone was enough to make his heart flutter in his chest, his traitorous cock starting to twitch below the blanket already. Merlin, what was wrong with him? Before Hermione, he'd been able to go without sex for months, not even feeling a tinge of arousal. Now he was half-ready to enter her again and he knew he'd do it in a blink if she asked him to, his meeting at the Ministry be damned.

Clearing his throat he pulled back from her, turning towards the edge of the bed. He'd rather not give her the wrong impression and therefore it was better if he quickly retreated from the bedroom, before his body or a few unreflected words would give him away. "I'll just grab a pain reliever and some bruise salve from the bathroom," he said, hastily angling his trunks from the floor.

"No!" Hermione's hand closed around his wrist, holding him tight. "I can do this, I can heal you," she said, her voice almost pleading with him. "I know how to heal a few scratches and bruises, trust me."

Percy paused, his gaze softening. "I do."

There was no way he was going to leave the bed after she'd asked him to stay. Because the tone in her voice made it clear to him that she wanted him here, needed him, very much like she did last night, and yet so very different.

Sighing, Percy turned back towards his wife, meeting her eyes as calmly as he could. It wouldn't do for her to believe he was pushing her away or finding fault with what she'd done if he did anything but.

"I trust you, Hermione," he told her, his free hand reaching out to cup her cheek. "And of course, I'll let you heal me if that's what you feel you want to do."

Giving him a watery smile, Hermione nodded before she leaned forward to angle her wand from the nightstand. Then she kneeled down before him, her caramel-brown eyes taking him in full of concentration, her teeth nibbling at her bottom lip.

"Don't worry, Percy. I'll fix this, I promise," she assured him as she pointed her want towards a bruise at his left side. "I'll take care of you."

Percy nodded, his mouth suddenly feeling dry. Again, her words stroked something inside him, a slumbering something that purred at the love and adoration he was treated with. But no, he was starting to imagine things. Experiencing happiness at his wife's worry and care was a very natural response. There was nothing odd inside of him, Percy told himself. Therefore there was certainly nothing for him to worry about, right?

ssssss

Percy left the flat an hour later, leaving a confused and guilt-stricken Hermione behind. Patching him up hadn't taken too long, thank Merlin, and yet Hermione had been extra careful to make sure all wounds had closed and all bruises were gone. She tested every bit of healed skin with her fingers, brushing them over the spot ever so softly while her mind whispered a silent apology. She still couldn't believe she'd hurt Percy in such a way, biting and scratching and sucking his skin like it was nothing and secretly enjoying it. It was true that her husband hadn't complained, not once, he'd even invited her to do so, that that was just because he was thoughtful and selfless and perfect - and she didn't deserve any of it. The only relief was that she was able to make all of the marks go away, leaving nothing but white unblemished skin behind. Thank Merlin, she would have never forgiven herself if she'd been the one giving Percy his first scar after he'd made it out of the war just fine.

Sighing, Hermione cleaned away their teacups, lining them up in the dishwasher that would take even this tiny bit of work off her shoulders. There was a whole day ahead of her and there was literally nothing for her to do. Nothing but thinking about last night, the memories of Percy's moans and whimpers and the look on his face haunting her until she was ready to climb the walls. Why was it that she couldn't get this out of her head? And why had he looked like he was enjoying what they did when all she'd done was use him to fulfil her own desires?

This couldn't happen again, she couldn't be as selfish as this. It wasn't right and Percy deserved better than a selfish, broken wife. But how was she to fix this, to fix herself? There wasn't anything she could do against the tremors and she didn't feel ready to face an uncertain number of weeks of treatment at St Mungo's when she'd only yesterday lost her right to work at the place. For now, she'd have to live with the tremors but with what choice did this leave her for her future? Apparently, she couldn't be fixed so easily, couldn't be the perfect wife that a man like Percy deserved. She could just be herself and make sure that something like last night didn't happen again, even though a dark, little part of herself protested at the thought.

Sighing, Hermione went about her day and started to clean the kitchen. Not that it needed cleaning as she and Percy mostly bought ready-made food for their dinner, but because she felt she needed to do something useful. And so she threw herself at the only task at hand.

Only it didn't take more than half an hour to clean the kitchen and even less to straighten up the living room. With magic, cleaning was way too easy and not even remotely satisfying. After three hours she had cleaned all the way towards the bedroom. There, she felt herself sink onto the covers, on Percy's side of the bed. His pillow still smelled like him, a mixture of the sharp cologne and his shampoo paired with what was unmistakably him. Before she knew what she was doing, she buried her nose into his pillow, taking deep breaths to inhale his scent. It was enough to make her heart flutter once more, her thoughts involuntarily returning to last night. How would it sound if his moans and whimpers would be muffled by this very pillow? How would it look if he was lying on his stomach, her hand…

No. She had to stop this insanity, Hermione chided herself, hastily jumping out of the bed. A wave of her wand straightened the covers and her clothes and she hastily turned towards the door, only for her foot to knock against a box that was stored under their bed. Huh. She hadn't even been aware there was something below that bed, but when she leaned down to peek under it, she spotted several boxes in different sizes and colours. Why had she never noticed them before?

Frowning, she pulled the first box towards her and opened the lid. Inside, were different electronic muggle toys: a remotely controlled car, a Game Boy, a Tamagotchi and a flashlight, all of them in various states of deconstruction. Hermione stared at the items for a moment, her mind coming up with pictures of Percy tinkering and playing with the toys and she involuntarily had to smile. She'd known about her husband's interest in Muggle science, but she had never pictured him tinkering with electric toys very much like his father did.

Smiling, Hermione closed the box again and angled the next one from below the bed. Anticipating another set of Muggle things she opened it, only to find Fred and George's wedding gifts neatly lined up inside of it. There were sex toys of various shapes and colours and looking at them Hermione realised that not all of them had been gifted by the twins. There were at least a few she swore to have never seen before. With a thudding heart, Hermione shut the box and shoved it back under the bed, together with the other one. Somehow she'd assumed that Percy got rid of the toys, considering that he had been very sceptical about the twins' present to begin with. Did he plan on tinkering with them as well? Or… did he plan on using them? Maybe he'd even done so already…

Shoving the thought away, Hermione stormed out of the bedroom, banging the door close behind her. This was none of her business. What Percy did or didn't do in his free time was his privacy and she better kept her nose out of his things.

Huffing, she grabbed a random book from the shelf and started reading but it couldn't hold her interest. Neither could the three other books she found. Instead, her thoughts kept returning to Percy, their last night, and the box of toys under the bed. Technically some of the things were hers as well… No, she would not go down this line of thought, she couldn't… she mustn't. But the funny thing about forbidden things is that they grow more tempting, the more one tries not to think of them. And Hermione did not want to think about sucking and biting Percy or pressing his face tighter into her pussy in the hope for just a little more friction. She also most definitely did not want to think about Percy in the shower, glinting droplets of water running down his perfect torso while he closed his fist around his hard length, pumping into it while he thought about her. And no, she would also not think about pressing Percy face down onto the mattress while she tried out some of the toys on him.

Merlin, who was she kidding? Hermione thought about all of those things and more and before she knew what was happening her feet carried her back into the bedroom, the books on the coffee table forgotten in favour of something that was way more tempting and most likely not meant for her entertainment. Well, Percy didn't have to find out, did he?