She needed more, needed him, needed him to touch her – oh gods, everywhere, and yet she couldn't tear herself away from just his lips. She slid her hands up over his chest again, revelling in the way his muscles flexed as he balanced himself above her. As one hand curled around his neck, his hair brushing against the back of her fingers, so soft – softer than a man's hair should be, she felt his hand travel once more up her body, cupping the curve of her waist as if she belonged to him, and finally - yes, oh yes, caressing her breast through the thin, taut fabric of the damnable bathing suit that still covered too much of her.
Hermione arched into him, gasping against Sirius' mouth as his thumb brushed over a hardened nipple. Still, it wasn't enough. In a flash of frustrated determination, she broke their kiss, only to dip her head against him, nuzzling and nibbling along the masculine column of his neck. She smirked against his flesh at the quickening breaths that came from the older, more experienced wizard, and continued to tease her mouth along his jaw line all the way to his ear, while letting her fingers explore his bare torso more adventurously. When she took his lobe gently between her teeth, he dropped his head weakly, panting in response.
Seizing her opportunity, she gave Sirius a mighty shove and rolled over on top of him when he tumbled to the side, a triumphant smile playing her lips. Instead of fighting her again this time, his slate coloured eyes narrowed hungrily, dropping down to where the strap of her bathing suit had slipped even further off her shoulder, pulling the material covering her breast down to a precarious level.
Hermione sat up, straddling Sirius' waist, the hard bulge in his jeans barely brushing against her backside, her awareness of it creating an aching heat in her. Her pulse quickened as he slowly reached up to where she was beginning to lose her swim suit, but she remained perfectly still, waiting. Her eyes fluttered slightly as his fingers lightly brushed her arm where the fabric lay in a useless curve.
"Do you want me to touch you, Hermione?" Sirius asked silkily.
Even without the potion-tainted tea they'd been drinking, she wouldn't have lied. "Please," she begged in a whisper.
His other hand slid along her bare thigh and up her body, hooking fingers into the strap hanging off her other shoulder. Slowly, as if unveiling a long-anticipated gift, Sirius pulled the damp material down, exposing just the tops of her breasts until Hermione pulled her arms up through the straps, freeing herself and causing the fabric to roll further down until it hugged around her midsection.
Between his stilled hands and sudden silence, she felt a flash of self-consciousness and looked away until she heard him utter one soft word – "Perfect…"
When she looked back at him, his face held so much adoration Hermione blushed, this time with pleasure. No one had ever looked at her like that before, and when Sirius slowly lifted his hands and traced the outer curves of her breasts, she nearly cried – both at the gentle, almost reverent gesture and at finally, finally sweet Circe, feeling his fingers explore more than her blessed back and legs.
As she arched into his touch, gentle caresses quickly gave way to firmer, more deliberate movements. Hermione's eyes fell shut, her head falling back and a soft moan escaping her as his thumbs rolled across her exposed nipples. She gasped harshly when Sirius suddenly leaned up, laving one roughly with his tongue before taking it between his lips, his teeth gently pressing, sending a jolt to her core, while his hand continued massaging her other breast, pinching her nipple slowly, expertly working the puckered flesh. He slid his free hand around to her back, fingers dancing along her spine, slowly easing her swimsuit down over her hips, slipping beneath the material to cup her bottom.
She clutched the back of his head desperately, wondering fleetingly how on earth he knewjust exactly what to do to her, his mouth and hands creating feelings and responses she'd never had before. With Ron, she had always felt like a doll, and not in a good way – her role more utilitarian between the sheets. What Sirius was doing to her, however… Hermione felt so alive, so right…
She moaned again, pressing back into Sirius' hand, the motion causing her to inadvertently grind against the hardness still encased in his jeans. With a low growl, Sirius sat up, still holding her against him, so that Hermione was now in his lap, her legs wrapped around his hips, his erection now pressed squarely against her heat.
Her eyes flew open to meet his gaze, finding a liquid, hungry heat reflected back at her in their silvery depths. Her hands slid up his chest to encircle his shoulders and neck, causing him to groan as she grazed his nipples with her fingernails along the way. He responded by nibbling along her jaw line, dipping down to her throat while his hands grabbed her hips, guiding them in that ancient motion so intimate and delicious and beautiful… The friction of that hard seam of denim pressed so tightly between them and the acute awareness of how close they truly were to what she desperately wanted sent frissons of pleasure and desire through Hermione.
"Sirius… please," she panted helplessly, unable to articulate anything beyond that for the desperate need she felt boiling within her.
His hands left her hips to plunge into the damp mane of curls now beautifully mussed and floating wildly around her shoulders and face. His kiss was primal and possessive, and she met it with equal ferocity as he laid her down on the blanket once more, his lips never leaving hers.
Sirius had taken his time with her plenty, but Hermione's moans and pleas were like a spark to a drought-suffering field, and now he made quick work of removing her bathing suit the rest of the way, pausing at her feet only once she was completely naked before him.
"Gods, you are so beautiful, woman," he rasped as his eyes drank in the sight of this unlikely little goddess. For months now, his imagination had steered all of his shower-wanking fantasies toward visions of brunette curls, soft brown eyes, and curves he'd only occasionally glimpsed when the vixen decided to peek out from behind the conservative but classy façade of this prim little bookworm. And though Sirius prided himself on having quite a creative imagination, not a single inch of speculated flesh or thought-up sighs held a candle to the real thing.
With a deep breath, he reined himself in from the sudden gut deep urge to pull out his rock-hard cock and plunge into her right there and then. Instead, he leaned in, covering her thighs in a trail of kisses and little bites, grinning against her flesh at the little gasps and mewls she made every time he nipped her with his teeth. He carefully avoided the neatly groomed treasure waiting at her apex, intending to save the best, or at least the second-best for last, as he continued his exploration further up her body. She wasn't flawless by any stretch: there were scars he knew were from battle wounds, and the one just under her right breast that curved across her ribs he knew came from Dolohov. There were patches where her skin had seen regular sun and blossomed light dustings of freckles, as well as several precious little beauty marks. He wanted to pay homage to them all, but was distracted by the frustrated little sounds coming from his witch.
Sirius raised his head from the swell of one perfect breast and grinned. "Is there something wrong, my love?" he asked teasingly.
"Yes!" Hermione cried with a grimace.
"What would you like me to do, then?" he purred against her neck, smiling as she writhed beneath him.
Hermione swallowed and bit her lip, feeling the answer bubbling up from within her. He's really going to do this to me, she thought , and closed her eyes as her mouth opened.
"Touch me… I - I want you to touch me," she whispered as she slid her legs along his. The sensation of thick, worn denim against her bare skin was intoxicating, distracting her momentarily from the knowledge of what she knew he was going to ask next…
"And where do you want me to touch you, Hermione?" Sirius' deep voice whispered against her ear.
In a flash of heated defiance her eyes flew open and she grabbed his hand that was currently sliding along her waist. She guided it to the aching juncture of her thighs and glared at him. "There," she answered pointedly.
"Crafty little witch," Sirius chuckled softly as he shifted his weight off of her, laying on his side next to her so he could better watch her reactions as he complied with her demands. "Perhaps I should tie those clever little hands of yours so you'll have to answer me properly, hmm?" he murmured as he pressed his palm against her mound.
"Would you like that?" he asked as his finger slid between her wet folds.
The gasp that was wrenched from her was nearly a sob. "Yes," she replied raggedly, unaware of what she was answering to, just that, dear Merlin, it felt so good, just that one touch… "Please don't stop," she begged.
"No," Sirius agreed tenderly, his fingers working in gentle rhythmic strokes over her clitoris. "So wet, love," he whispered, trailing his lips over her shoulder and neck. "How does that feel?"
"So… good…" Hermione panted, the familiar tide of pleasure rapidly swelling within her.
"Can't wait to taste you… to feel your hot little pussy around my cock…"
"Please… faster…" she tensed, as if so desperate to push herself over that edge.
Instead, his fingers slowed to more firm but deliberate movements, not enough to stop her, but just slow enough to cause the impending wave of ecstasy to sweep through her in a long, blissfully drawn-out crest.
"That's it love, let go… yes," Sirius muttered as Hermione arched and bucked against him with a sharp cry. His hand, still cupping her sex was now soaked with her release as waves of aftershocks wracked her frame.
When she finally calmed down, he gently pulled his hand away and licked the gleaming juices from his fingers with a groan. The sound caught Hermione's attention and she opened her eyes and looked at him, an expression of awe and joy on her face.
Sirius tried to smirk, but his smugness was outweighed by a deep sense of pleasure at having pleased the young woman before him. "Did you 'enjoy' that, Hermione?" he asked with a wry grin.
"Yes!" she grinned cheekily in return, but her smile quickly faded to a hungry, determined look. She turned on her side to face him and immediately proceeded to attack him in a flurry of heated kisses and sharp little bites that felt like exquisite little lit matches tossed across his flesh. Before Sirius even registered what was happening, she had him on his back again, had made fast work of his belt and was frantically working on the buttons of his fly.
Hermione chanced a glance up at the wizard's face as she worked the buttons on his jeans. She could feel his erection straining against the material and licked her lips with anticipation. She wasn't "broken," or frigid, or defective, or subconsciously not interested in men, or any of the many things she'd worried about while having to fake her way through sex before. She felt like a landlocked boat that had finally been pushed into the waters of the ocean – so alive and eager to explore this beautiful man laying before her. This magnificent man who was watching her with so much adoration in his eyes, any hesitation she may have had was wiped completely clean.
With a relieved breath, she freed Sirius from his jeans, smirking at the fact that he wasn't wearing anything underneath them. Why wasn't she surprised? He lifted his hips as she tugged the jeans past his thighs and down his legs until finally they were tossed aside, leaving them both naked under the noon sun.
She smiled shyly at him before focusing her attention on his legs, thinking of what he'd said about experiencing and feeling one another, and how utterly thorough he was with his attention. She'd never had that before, and certainly Ron would have thought her completely mental if she'd taken a sudden interest in the contours of his leg muscles, or the bones in his ankles. But that's just what she was doing now. This was Sirius, the man over whom she'd suffered an adolescent crush, whose 'death' had been so utterly devastating to her, yet she'd had to bury the extent of her heartbreak because no one would have understood. And then he'd come back to them years later, perfectly fine, the whole veil mystery and Ministry debacle having been an elaborate cover-up for another one of Dumbledore's missions. Sirius was back, and she was no longer a child and here they were, the rough hair of his bare legs tickling the tips of her fingers, muscles and bones and tendons so perfect beneath her touch as she explored her way up his body much the same way he'd done just moments ago.
Perhaps it was foolhardy carelessness on her part, to be laying here in the Georgia sunshine 'making love' with her best friend's godfather. But she'd lost so much – her parents, her home, and she'd quietly borne the loss of Sirius himself for four years. Hermione found she really couldn't summon the care needed to approach this with caution. Whatever happened tomorrow or next week just didn't matter right now.
"What are you thinking about, little girl?" Sirius rumbled suddenly, an intrigued smile on his face.
Hermione rolled her eyes slightly and smiled. Another bloody question to answer…
"I was thinking about how I just don't care about tomorrow," she said dreamily as her hands drifted over his thighs, closer to the very generously-sized erection that bobbed slightly in the warm air. "And of how perfect you are. It's hardly fair, really," she added with a chuckle.
"I'm not - " Sirius was cut off with a sharp gasp as her fingers found him, first dancing lightly along his length, then back down to the base of his cock. Whatever he was going to say was lost as Hermione slid over his body, her tongue exploring his stomach and chest while her hand curled around his erection and slowly started to pump. It was maddening – her touch was almost innocent, curious and experimental, and at the same time so fucking sensual. She was incredible.
When her lips, tongue, and teeth managed to discover how sensitive his nipples were, Sirius arched against her with a harsh growl, then suddenly grabbed her wrist, stopping her.
"Hermione, no," he rasped, panting. Gently, he moved her hand away as she sat up, a confused and slightly hurt expression on her face.
"Why?" she asked.
Because I want to please you first, to taste you…
It was the truth, but not the most immediate and honest answer. "Because…" Sirius swallowed, then quirked a sheepish half-grin. "It's been too long and this will be over far sooner than I'd like."
With that, he sat up and eased her onto her back again, tenderly kissing her lips, jaw, and throat while his hands smoothed down her body. He looked into her coffee-brown eyes, admiring the golden little flecked rings he could see in those dark chocolate irises. "And because I still want to taste you," he added in a low tone.
Hermione's eyes widened at this, and she blushed. "But I…"
"Yes?"
"Well, we can't use magic out here and I'm still a – a mess down there from… from what you did to me…" she stammered, cringing at the ridiculousness of her words.
Sirius gave her a confused look, his brow furrowed. "And - ?"
"Well I'm not, I mean… don't you want me to be…"
He slid his hand between her legs, smiling at the tiny gasp that slipped from her as her eyelids fluttered slightly. "Why would I want you to wash this away when that's the best part?" he asked in an amused tone, easing himself down her body as her mouth worked silently. It was becoming more and more difficult to bite back the derisive remarks about her ex-boyfriend. Stupid git, he thought. Ron obviously had no idea what he was missing, and not a clue as to how to properly treat the treasure he had.
Hermione worried at her bottom lip and squeezed her eyes shut as Sirius moved down between her legs. She wasn't stupid – she knew men and women did this sort of thing all the time. She'd fantasized about it a lot, but Ron had found the idea repulsive, a chore that deserved high commendation when he bothered to even try it. She waited for the distasteful hesitation, the tentative parting of folds, the light pointed swipe of a tongue moving gingerly out of obligation…
She inhaled sharply when what came instead was a sudden barrage of lips, tongue, and even a bit of nose, diving into her most intimate parts with relish. She opened her eyes, looking down to meet Sirius' gaze staring back at her from between her legs, dark and intent with desire before closing as his tongue swiped along her clit, his ecstatic moan creating delicious little vibrations against her where his lips now suckled. He wrapped an arm around one of her thighs while his other hand slid along her folds, opening her up to him further.
She closed her eyes again, exhaling a helpless but blissful sound as her head fell back to the blanket. This was better than anything she could ever have dreamed up in her fantasies. It was wet, so wet, and smooth, and pulsing, and oh, gods, he was fucking her with his tongue, and then back up to that nub of flesh to suckle. Yes, it made perfect sense, and perhaps that's what it feels like for men, and, oh, Merlin, it was building up again, so quickly she didn't even have to force it but instead in a flash of inspiration she focused very muscle in her body to completely relax into it so she could just feel, feel that spiraling, spinning rush of heaven coming at her full tilt…
Sirius smiled against the sweet, tangy, wet flesh he was devouring as he glanced up at Hermione's face. Her eyes were closed, her head thrashing back and forth against the blanket, and he was utterly delighted at the profanities that spilled in a mad rush from her beautiful lips. He was fairly certain she wasn't even aware of what she was saying.
He was also curious and rather impressed to notice how she'd suddenly relaxed her whole body against him. So many times witches tensed up nearly every muscle in their body before they even reached their orgasm. When he was much younger he'd once asked a partner why, and it was explained to him that it often helped 'push things along.' Now, though, as he swept his tongue along her opening and tasted the subtle shift in her chemistry as only a 'dog' could, he kept his eyes on her face, fascinated as she fell silent, her breathing now deep and laboured. Then, like the calm before a storm, he felt the involuntary spasms hit, shuddering deeply and slowly through her body as her release dripped steadily from her. Only then did her thighs tighten, her pelvis undulating of its own volition as she arched and gasped loudly, crying out his name.
He had never seen a woman's orgasm more beautiful.
And still he continued, lapping at her juices, his tongue and lips more gentle to the touch yet still present and intent on giving her more. When she squirmed against him in protest, he tightened his hold on her, shooting a warning look up to the brown eyes and flushed face that panted back at him. When she relaxed in surrender, he rewarded her by wrapping his lips around her clit and sucking gently, laving his tongue across the tiny bundle of flesh. Then, ever so slowly, he pressed first one, then two fingers into her tight passageway, smirking in pleasure when she moaned in response and pressed back against him.
His cock was painfully hard now, and as he felt Hermione respond to his mouth and fingers, he knew he couldn't possibly last long enough to satisfy her once he was encased in that delicious sheath of wet flesh. He was practically on the verge of embarrassing himself right there on the blanket, so he was quite relieved when he felt and tasted the telltale signs of another wave approaching.
"Hermione," Sirius grunted, kneeling up, while his fingers continued their pumping, gently massaging the spongy patch of tissue inside of her.
"Yes," she answered, "yes… Please…" She moved against him meaningfully, her hands on his thighs now, gasping as he stroked his thumb over her clit.
"I can't protect you," he murmured. No magic outside of the wards meant no contraceptive charm.
"It's fine, I'm covered," she urged, pulling him to her.
That was all the reassurance he needed. Slipping his fingers out of her, he stroked his cock with her juices before positioning himself at her entrance and slowly easing in to her tight slickness. His eyes flicked up to her face and he was captivated by her euphoric expression.
"More," she whispered harshly, her eyes half-lidded.
He pushed into her the rest of the way and they both gasped. He paused and held her there for a moment, quite certain he was going to spill if she moved just a fraction of a centimetre.
"Please," she begged finally, trying to wriggle against him.
Sirius narrowed his granite eyes. In such a small period of time, he'd grown to love hearing that word on her lips. He slipped his hand between them and swiped his thumb over her, just once, in a teasing gesture of supplication, but still he did not move within her.
Brown eyes flashed defiantly and suddenly he felt her muscles tighten around his dick in an undulating, milking sensation, starting at her entrance and massaging all the way to his tip. His head fell forward.
"Fuck, witch, what in the hell are you doing to me?" he moaned.
"Stop teasing!" she demanded.
"As you wish," he snarled and drove into her with a fierceness that quickly pushed them over the precarious edge upon which they'd balanced for far too long.
"No," Hermione gasped when he moved to slip his hand between them again, feeling himself lose control. "Just… one more…"
Her words were lost to a cracked cry and he felt her convulse around him, impossibly tight, tearing away his last thread of control. He bellowed her name as his release shuddered forth, his hips jerking erratically against her.
When the last belt of tension had flicked itself from his body, Sirius let himself drop his weight onto his elbows, his forearms framing the face of the beautiful, flushed and breathless witch whose legs were still wrapped lazily around him. Speechless, he instead kissed her with all the nameless tenderness and adoration he felt bubbling within him.
Hermione smiled sleepily and returned his kisses, letting her legs slide off from around him as she stretched, languorous and satisfied as a kneazle.
Sirius chuckled at the expression on her face and rolled over, taking her with him and settling her over his chest as he slipped out from between her legs. He traced his fingers lightly over her spine and around her backside then up again.
"Are you alright?" Sirius asked finally, for lack of anything more witty to say. He wondered vaguely what happened to his remarkable post-shag banter that used to appease witches just long enough to avoid any messy talk of feelings.
Hermione hummed contentedly against his chest in response, leaving a trail of playful nips to his shoulder. Raising her head then, she frowned thoughtfully. "Hungry…" she mumbled, looking over Sirius' head to where their picnic lay virtually untouched.
Grinning affectionately at her, he tilted his head back and stretched, barely hooking his fingers into the saddlebag that held their lunch. "Of course, I'm afraid we are stuck drinking iced tea," he said with a quirk of an eyebrow.
Hermione snorted. "At this point, I'd venture to guess you have far more secrets than I do." She went to move off of him but he held her in place.
"I like you here," Sirius murmured, smiling sexily. He fumbled blindly in the bag and pulled out a plastic container of mixed fresh fruit. Popping the top off with one hand, he reached in and pulled out a partial bunch of red grapes.
Seeing his intention, Hermione grinned and shook her head at the little cliché.
"Well I'm not going to peel them for you, love," he laughed before pulling one off the tiny stem with his teeth and holding it there while pointedly tilting his chin up to her.
Grasping his intention, Hermione lowered her head to take the fruit from him. He relinquished it and his tongue followed, curling slowly against hers as the plump grape rolled around her mouth, causing her to giggle as she pulled away.
Her body seemed to be reminded of its empty state by that small taste of food, however, and her stomach grumbled noisily, prompting Sirius to take lunch a little more seriously. He reached back and felt around for a sandwich while Hermione continued nibbling on grapes, resting her elbows comfortably on his chest. After unwrapping it, he paused. Frowning, he gingerly lifted an edge of the bread.
"What the…" he muttered in confusion.
Glancing down, Hermione's face lit up. "Oh!" She exclaimed, snatching the sandwich from him and sitting up. "Oh, oh, oh, OH!" She grinned gleefully and took a huge bite of her favourite –
"Hermione, what the bloody hell is that?" Sirius wrinkled his nose at the unnaturally white stuff that was bulging from between peanut butter and what appeared to be sliced banana.
"Meegmuh buhgnu brrnahger margthmaggwor fwerf…" she explained, grinning impishly through another bite as though every syllable made perfect sense while her cheeks worked at the sticky food. As an afterthought, she held out the sandwich with a 'hm?' to offer him a taste.
"Err, no thank you," he smiled blandly at the repulsive looking goo.
"Chicken," Hermione accused with a smirk, her voice still somewhat thick even after having swallowed the mess.
She started to take another bite when Sirius snatched the sandwich out of her hand and bit off a large corner, glaring at her challengingly.
Sneaking the rapidly shrinking sandwich back from his grasp, Hermione grinned as she watched Sirius' reaction. She wondered if he could at all understand just how much joy she felt that her Aunt Louise still remembered her favourite sandwich after all these years. Her own parents would never keep anything as tooth-rotting as marshmallow fluff in the house, so it was always an extra-special treat that was made for her in secret by her aunt when they visited. It really was the little things sometimes. This one gesture made her feel more welcome and a part of the family than possibly anything else had in the last ten days.
Hermione laughed in child-like amusement at the dramatic display Sirius made of trying to chew and swallow the sticky confection. The thought flashed through her head briefly that he'd someday make a terrific father, but she quickly doused that idea, knowing thoughts like those often lead a path to disappointment.
"What the bloody hell is that?" Sirius choked, reaching for the container of tea.
"I told you," she replied charmingly. "Peanut butter, banana, and marshmallow fluff. Aunt Lou makes them especially for me."
"Especially for you? You actually… requested that?" he teased.
"No, she just knows," Hermione answered in a petulant tone. She took another bite of her cherished sandwich and made a face at him. Sirius simply grinned and made a mental note of one more little detail about the witch who was still straddling him as she ate her lunch.
~oOo~