A/N: That took me so much long than expected, but RL responsibilities at work kept interfering. The new chapter is FINALLY here and I can't wait to see what you make of it.
Much love! xx-Kitten.
Firewhiskey Nights
By Kittenshift17
CHAPTER NINE
She kissed him the whole way into the bathroom, fumbling with the taps while he stripped her out of her clothes. Hermione's whole body was on fire, her breath coming in sharp gasps at the deliciously sinful taste of his tongue against her own. Thorfinn hissed between his teeth when he stepped under the stream of water pouring from the tap before it was warm but he didn't move.
He pulled her in along with him and Hermione tore her lips from hers with a gasp at the shock of icy water sliding across her nipples. Had they not already been pebbled into rosy peaks from his touch, they would have stood at attention at the cold.
"Fix the temperature," she muttered against his neck when she trailed her lips against him, revelling in the faint scratch of his stubble against her skin.
He did as he was asked, though he seemed to suffer a minor moral dilemma when doing so meant he had to pry his hands off her arse. While he fiddled with the taps, Hermione reached for her sponge and the soap, lathering it thickly and beginning to smooth soapy circles over his flesh.
"Are you seriously bathing me, Princess?" he chuckled.
"You're literally covered in my scent and the scent of stale sex, Rowle," Hermione replied. "Which, by the way, you're lovely friends seemed to enjoy pointing out. Did you tell all of them that you're shagging me, or just Rabastan?"
"I didn't tell a soul," he answered. He held still while she scrubbed at his chest and his washboard abs, his fingertips pinching her nipples gently and rolling them in a way that was making her brain go fuzzy.
"How did he know, then?" Hermione challenged, smiling slightly to herself when she discovered he was ticklish as she spread soapy circles across his ribs.
"He could smell it on me, and I might've goaded him about not needing to go out to pick up for the day," Thorfinn said, trying to squirm out of her reach when she tickled him with the sponge some more.
"Is he likely to tell everyone?" she asked.
"Probably. Bass isn't the best at keeping secrets."
Hermione sighed. Just what she needed. More people thinking she was shagging Rowle. She could just see the headlines now.
"And you're alright with them knowing?" she confirmed.
"Doesn't bother me, Princess," Thorfinn shrugged his massive shoulders, now pressed against the wall thanks to the way she'd cornered him with the sponge. "That lot aren't going to care who I'm fucking. If anything, they might taunt you about it to try to sweet talk you into bed with them, instead."
"But I'm muggle-born," Hermione protested, ceasing her scrubbing to stare up at him in confusion.
He shrugged, grinning slightly when her eyelids fluttered thanks to the attention he was paying her nipples.
"They're all shagging half-bloods and muggleborns, Princess. Part of our parole says we have to. No use bedding pureblood witches when they can't give any of us the heirs we need to keep our sorry arses out of prison, is there?" he said, taking the sponge from her and dropping it to the floor before he scooped his huge hands under the backs of her thighs and hiked her up his body. "And if we're all going to have to shag half-bloods and muggleborns, the whole lot of us would prefer to shag the prettiest ones, and the smartest ones for the sake of our potential spawn. You won't see any of the lads sweet-talking birds who're thicker than stumps or ugly trolls."
"Delightful, more prejudice to replace the blood purity," Hermione deadpanned.
"It's not prejudice, it's an interference with natural selection," he told her. "We're all charged with breeding, see? And if you're going to breed, you want to make sure your kid is going to either be good looking, or smart. Preferably both. Especially since some of the older pureblood lines need a good injection of looks or smarts. You've seen the Goyle and the Bulstrodes, right? If we're all breeding outside the pureblood circles, you better believe we're going to do it with the sake of the bloodline still in mind. It might dilute the magical purity, but if it injects something in its place, it's more socially acceptable. These are the lies we tell ourselves to overcome years of brainwashing and blood prejudice."
"In other words, snobbery." Thorfinn laughed at her assessment but he didn't deny it. Hermione tipped her head as she met his gaze. "So, did you settle for looks, or smarts?"
He grinned. "I landed both, Princess. If I can knock you up, we'll have the smartest, prettiest kid there is."
"Even if they have my hair?" she asked.
"You've seen my hair, right?" he asked. "The kid will have big hair, but they'll be smart and pretty, with a killer batting arm for Quidditch, I'd reckon."
"Assuming it's a boy," she said. "In your hypothetical scenario."
"Hypothetically, you seem to be under the delusion that we'd stop at just one," Thorfinn smirked in return. "Trust me, Princess. If I can talk you into letting me knock you up and it takes, you better believe I'll be wanting to do it more than once."
"Yes, I seem to recall vague memories of your stamina when it comes to doing it more than once," Hermione laughed.
Thorfinn grinned smugly. "Exactly. Now, hush up and let me fuck you full of our demon-spawn, witch."
Hermione was still laughing against his lips when he adjusted her in his hold and impaled her on his big cock, making her groan in a combination of ecstasy and agony because she'd been so well-fucked so many times already that day, and because – despite that – it felt amazing to have him inside her all over again.
And if she suffered pleasing daydreams of what a little boy with his eyes, her curls and his blond mane might look like while he hard-fucked her into the wall, well, no one had to know.
~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~
Thorfinn groaned softly, coming awake to the feel of a hot, clever tongue racing up the underside of his cock. Sweet fucking Circe, this witch would be the death of him. His eyes still closed in bliss, he hissed between his teeth in appreciation when her warm mouth engulfed the tip of his cock, tongue swirling around it like she'd just been given her favourite lollipop.
The feel of her hand smoothing up and down the length of his cock while she nibbled and licked the tip of it made his eyes cross with pleasure and Thorfinn fisted his hands into her wild curls. He loved the way the unruly tendrils wrapped around his fingers, snagged around his wrists and felt so soft and springy in his grip. Fuck, he loved her hair. He'd admit that much freely. Every curly strand of it. He liked putting his hands in it. He liked gripping her by it when he got rough between the sheets with her the way he'd learned she liked. He especially liked the way she groaned when he fisted it to pull her to him for another snog.
"Fuck, Baby-girl, you know how to wake a man up right," Thorfinn muttered, his hips twitching with the urge to take control and fuck her mouth until he exploded. She hummed cheerfully in reply, bobbing her head down the length of his cock as far as she could before withdrawing, hollowing her cheeks as she sucked him hard enough that he wasn't going to last long at all.
She built to a rhythm quickly, sucking what she could take, her hands wrapped around what she couldn't. Thorfinn was breathing hard, resisting the urge to ravish her, thinking about pulling her back up his body just so he could impale her on his cock and watch her ride him, slow and easy. At least, he was thinking that until he heard the sound of someone knocking on the door to her flat.
His eyes opening, Thorfinn tried to think past the haze induced by oral sex. Granger paused in her sucking, Thorfinn's cock slipping from her mouth with a wet 'pop' as she lifted her head, peering toward the door in panicked confusion.
"Who in the world…?" she muttered, making like she might get off him to find out who would be at her door.
"Hey, you're not done, Princess," Thorfinn protested. "Don't you go anywhere."
She laughed at him, licking the weeping slit of his cock and sinking her mouth back over him hungrily even as the knock sounded again. Thorfinn's breath hitched. So fucking close. She hummed when he bucked again, trying to push him over the edge.
"I'm going to come," he warned her raggedly, his heart racing inside his chest. She sucked harder, her hands and mouth working in tandem to bring him undone. Thorfinn groaned softly at the scald of heat through his veins, tightening his bollocks and winding him up before everything exploded. The fireworks behind his eyes; the come from his dick; the heat inside his chest. It all burst forth and Thorfinn's groan trailed to a slight whimper when his favourite witch sucked the come right out of his cock, swallowing every drop.
She released him slowly, sitting up and wiping her mouth before getting to her feet and searching for her housecoat. Thorfinn watched her from the bed, his brain muzzy with bliss and his subconscious telling him to pull the naked little minx back down on top of him just as soon as he remembered how to use his legs. The sound of distant, more insistent knocking from the front door had her hurrying out of the room, her wand held tight in her grip.
Thorfinn sat up, needing to get out of bed, not liking the idea that the witch felt the need to pull her wand just because someone knocked on her door. Dragging himself out of bed, his knees wobbled only once as he flicked his wand to perform some cleaning charms on his clothes and his body before pulling his jeans back on. He didn't bother with his shirt when, from the living room, he suddenly heard Granger exclaim in shock.
"What are you doing here?" she gasped and Thorfinn narrowed his eyes, forgetting his shirt and heading for the door.
"It's Saturday, darling," a female voice said. "You agreed to having brunch with us this morning… did you forget? Are you alright, sweetheart? You've turned very pink. You're not ill, are you?"
Thorfinn stalked into the room to lay eyes on a woman perhaps in her mid-fifties with wildly curly brown hair shot through with grey. She cupped Hermione's cheek and watched her with a worried little frown. Beside that woman, a slightly balding man bounced on the balls of his feet as he looked about Hermione's flat with interest. Almost immediately, Thorfinn realised what had drawn his attention.
In their fervour to devour each other the night before, they'd knocked over a pile of books on her coffee table, knocked a pile of letters to the floor in the kitchen and tipped over a teapot and both cups at the kitchen table. It looked a mess.
Worse, it looked like all three spots had been upset by rigorous shagging. Something Thorfinn was thinking her father wasn't thrilled about. Pressing his lips together to try and control the extremely smug grin that threatened to climb his face, Thorfinn flicked his wand, watching the books, the letters and the teapot all right themselves quickly before he shot another spell at the kettle to fill it and set it to boil.
He swaggered into the living room, still shirtless, and thoroughly enjoyed the way both of Granger's parents turned to looked at him. Their mouths hung open in shock at the size of him in their daughter's small flat. Granger turned to face him, her eyes widening in horror when she realised he was half-naked. And that he was sauntering about, only too happy to have her parents know she was shagging him. Indeed, when he sauntered close enough, his Cheshire cat grin wide and gloating, to press a kiss to her cheek, she looked like she might hex him.
"Morning, Princess," he practically purred against her skin. "Want a cup of tea?"
Hermione Granger looked like she was going to murder him, and Thorfinn found himself thinking that this might almost be as much fun as shagging her.
"Uh..." she said inarticulately, "Um..."
"I'm Thorfinn," he offered his hand to her mother to shake, watching the way the woman's jaw dangled limply while her brown eyes tracked the full length of his body and back again.
She shook his hand distractedly.
"Thorfinn?" her father asked, obviously taking one look at him and not approving in the slightest. No doubt thanks to the evidence of rigorous shagging.
"And... you are?" Thorfinn asked, pretending at his most refined form of manners and enjoying the way it made Granger blush that her parents were making such a deer-in-the-headlights first impression.
"Arnold Granger," the muggle said, taking the hand Thorfinn offered to him and squeezing it tight enough that it would undoubtedly have hurt someone less manly. "Hermione's father. This is her mother, Genevieve."
"Pleasure," Thorfinn practically purred, only too aware that he looked entirely like the cat who got the canary. "Tea?"
Arnold Granger looked annoyed at his lack of a wince before releasing his hand.
"Don't you think you should put a shirt on, Rowle?" Granger asked when she finished spluttering incoherently in her building rage.
"All in good time, Baby-girl," he grinned at her over his shoulder whilst using his wand to make the tea, filling Granger's largest teapot and finding four mugs. He levitated all of them towards the small dining table, entirely too amused for his own good.
"Or you could put one on now," she countered. "You know? Before you take someone's eye out."
"You're the one still in your housecoat, Princess. Don't get snippy with me just because you haven't had your morning cuppa yet," Thorfinn chastised lightly, grinning all the more. "Why don't you run on in and get yourself dressed appropriately for brunch with your folks while I enthral them with tales of how you're spending your youth?"
"Why don't you come with me and put a shirt on?" she counter-offered. The way she was glaring at him and the frostiness of her voice suggested she was less than pleased about the notion of him making certain to meet her parents.
Obviously she hadn't worked out yet that for all the teasing lilts in his tone when he mentioned fucking her full of his spawn, she would be the mother of his children one day. Thorfinn considered it rather important to meet his future in-laws.
"If we both go in there, you know what will happen," he smirked at her, shooting a wink in her direction that both of her parents spotted.
Genevieve looked surprised and then secretly pleased, a little grin pulling at the corners of her mouth. Arnold looked like he wanted to skin Thorfinn alive.
"Imagine what might happen out here if you continue antagonising me," Granger replied and Thorfinn chuckled softly.
"You're bloody brilliant when you look like you want to hex my bollocks off, Kitten," he smirked.
She stamped her foot indignantly, looking very much like she was about to blow a fuse at him and Thorfinn laughed out loud, ensuring the teapot, mugs and all the condiments for tea were laid on the table before excusing himself from her parent's company to fetch a shirt for himself. He made sure to snag Granger's hand and haul her off to her bedroom along with him.
"What are you doing?" she hissed when she'd shut the door. She spun on him wildly, looking like she really would hex him.
"Being polite," he smiled. "Something wrong, Princess?"
"You know very well what's wrong," she accused. "What are you still doing here? Why are you fetching tea and walking around in front of my parents without a shirt? Why are you interacting with them at all? You could've apparated home."
Thorfinn pulled her housecoat from her body with a wicked grin.
"Did you imagine I was finished with you?" he challenged, scooping his hands under her arse and hiking her up his body before capturing one of her nipples in his mouth.
"My parents are in the next room!" she hissed, swatting at him and trying to pry him off of her.
"So what?" he laughed. "Trust me, Princess, they already know you're fucking me. They spotted the overturned pile of books that fell off the coffee table, the letters on the kitchen floor that fell off the bench and the knocked over teapot and cups on the table from me fucking you on every flat surface in the house."
He cheeks went crimson at the very idea.
"That's no excuse to have sex just because they know we're sleeping together!" she protested, her hands fisted in his hair and pulling to try and keep him from kissing her soft skin. "Stop it, you bloody git. Put me down. I'm supposed to have brunch with them and I completely forgot because you keep distracting me with your giant cock."
"Don't pretend you're mad at me for my cock, Baby-girl. We both know you love every inch of it," Thorfinn teased, latching onto her other breast and drawing a low moan from her.
"Don't," she breathed, her head dropping back in pleasure. "They'll come bursting in here if we take too long."
"I can be quick," Thorfinn chuckled, supporting her with one hand and unbuttoning his jeans with the other.
"I'm not shagging you when my parents are in the next room, waiting for me to have brunch with them. Shit! I don't even have anything decent in the house to feed them. Which means I'll have to take them out for food and... oh, fuck!"
She trailed off to that soft expletive as he impaled her slowly on his cock, pressing her back against the bedroom wall and sinking to his bollocks deep inside her. She closed her eyes against the sensation, undoubtedly sore after spending most of yesterday and most of the night shagging him. Thorfinn was gentle with her even as he took her. He'd promised he could be quick, but he didn't want to brutalise her. He wanted to improve her mood and to have her let him come to brunch with her and her folks.
"You're going to be the death of me," she muttered against his neck when she leaned into him, kissing his neck softly.
Thorfinn chuckled, taking her slow but feeling the way her body heated and the way she began to tense, the muscles coiling tight, ready to snap free. When she broke in his hold a few minutes later, a breathy little moan tore from her lips, her face screwed up and her eyes closed tight as though she could barely stand the pleasure he pressed on her. Thorfinn grinned, letting her down slowly before lifting her off him and standing her on her feet.
"What about you?" she frowned when he cuddled her to his chest, obviously feeling his still hard cock against her stomach.
"After the delightful way you woke me up, we don't have time for the type of shagging it would take to bring me off again, Princess," Thorfinn told her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "Get dressed, yeah?"
"If I have to take them out for brunch, I should shower," she protested, sounding content and sleepy all over again.
"Why don't you jump through the shower while I go out and bring something back to feed them?" he suggested.
"You want to... go shopping for me to have brunch with my parents?" she asked, frowning as she tipped her head back to meet his gaze.
"I could eat," he grinned. "And I meant it, witch. I'm not done with you yet."
"You..." she frowned at him slightly, "Why do I get the feeling you're planning to spend the weekend with me?"
Thorfinn smiled at her slowly.
"Because I am. I'm not scared of a little time spent with your folks. And I know you don't have anywhere to be even when Monday morning rolls around," he said.
"You told Fred and George you'd meet them at their shop today to discuss working for them," she reminded him.
"I will," he shrugged. "Later. Potentially while you soak in a bath full of Epsom salts and healing potions so that I don't actually fuck you raw."
"You plan to keep on shagging me?" she groaned, pressing her forehead to the middle of his chest as though even the thought of more shagging made her tired.
Thorfinn sniggered. "That a problem, Princess?"
She shook her head slowly from side to side. "You realise that my parent will think we're dating, don't you?"
"So what?" he asked, shrugging. "I don't see them running to the reporters at the Prophet. Who are they going to tell?"
"Just all of their friends and colleagues," she muttered. "They get very excited at the prospect of me dating. Especially since Mum was convinced I'd die a lonely spinster with too many cats after Ron and I broke up."
Thorfinn smirked.
"You do live in a spinster's hovel," he replied, grinning. "And I'd swear I saw a cat running around here somewhere."
"Crookshanks. Shit, I need to feed him," she muttered, pulling away as though she might rush off to do that.
"You're naked, Kitten," he reminded her. "You need to bathe. I'll feed your monster of a cat and tell your parents you're showering. I'll run out and grab some groceries to feed them brunch."
"But..." she protested, obviously tired and a little disoriented after her most recent orgasm.
Thorfinn laughed and steered her towards the bathroom off her bedroom. He snagged up his shirt and let himself out of her bedroom, grinning and shaking his head to himself as he went.
"Where's Hermione?" Arnold Granger demanded when he re-entered the room. He had his arms folded over his chest and he was still standing, looking annoyed, while his wife poured tea and sat at the table.
"She's grabbing a quick shower," Thorfinn smirked at the man's attitude. "I'm going to run out and grab a few things for brunch, just as soon as I've fed this demon of a cat. Crookshanks?"
The streak of orange fur came rushing at him from under the coffee table, obviously part Kneazel and having heard him say he was going to feed him.
"Thorfinn?" Genevieve asked. "You'll be joining us for brunch, then? And you're feeding the cat. You obviously slept over...?"
"I did, yeah," Thorfinn smirked, watching the cat lead him to the food dish and rubbing against his ankles while Thorfinn searched the nearby cupboards for what to feed the monster of a cat. "I'll cook brunch, actually. Dang it, cat, where does she keep the bloody food?"
Crookshanks jumped up on a nearby bench and batted at the top cupboard with his front paws. It had been warded, he noted with some amusement, preventing the cat from opening it.
"Alohamora," Thorfinn muttered, flicking his wand at it and watching it pop open.
He had to snatch the giant cat out of the air when he launched himself towards the cupboard like he'd settle himself in there and eat everything.
"Don't you dare, beast," Thorfinn growled at the cat. "I'd reckon you know you're not allowed in here and you won't be testing the rules to see if I'll let you get away with it. You be polite and wait on the floor or you'll go hungry."
The cat growled at him when he was deposited back onto the floor but Thorfinn just curled his lip away from his teeth in silent challenge. Behind him, he could hear the soft giggle of Hermione's mother over the lecture he was giving the cat. When Crookshanks latched onto his leg and began biting him through his jeans, Thorfinn glared at the beast.
"You understand who I am, cat?" he asked of the beast, lifting his leg high enough to glare at the animal. Crookshanks growled again. "No? I'm the man who can make your witch forget to come home to feed you, so I'd reckon you want to be a bit nicer to me, else you might find yourself going hungry more nights than not, got it?"
His tail twitching in fury, the cat released him to land gracefully on his feet before stalking over and sitting beside his food dish, patiently waiting as though he'd never done anything wrong.
Genevieve Granger was giggling at the table.
"That's what I thought," Thorfinn sneered at the cat as he moved over to feed the beast. He locked and warded the cupboard the food had come from when he put the box of biscuits back inside it, making certain the cat wouldn't be able to penetrate it.
"Right, I'm off. I'll be back with food in a bit," he said to the Granger's just as he heard the shower shut off in Hermione's room.
"No problem, dear," Genevieve waved, still giggling slightly. Arnold glared at him some more, looking very much like he planned to lecture his daughter the minute she reappeared.
