CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Summary: Hermione Granger, an accomplished witch is working a particularly trying case and is in need of help. Deputy Sheriff Jordan Parrish is a hellhound and just the one she needs. When a fiery witch and a fire-proof supernatural being work together, sparks are sure to fly and Hermione and the Deputy find that they need each other for more than one reason. Rated M for a reason.
Disclaimer: I do not own canon events and characters, they belong to J.K Rowling and the creators of Teen Wolf and MTV. This is purely for entertainment purposes and I am not making a profit from the posting of this. This is set after The Wild Hunt but disregards everything afterwards, so there was no war between the supernatural and humans, there is no Monroe or Gerard and there are no hunters. At least for now! Also, Parrish is 23 and Hermione is 24. Oh, and I'm fudging the time line a bit, too. This will be written mostly in Parrish's POV.
Page count: 5
Her soft, warm lips seemed to mould against his own perfectly, despite knowing he'd surprised her when he'd suddenly kissed her.
He pulled back from her, looking down into her wide, surprised eyes.
"Why did you do that?" She asked quietly, breathlessly he noted.
His eyes bore into hers, refusing to look away. "It felt right," he replied honestly.
Her eyes darted across his face as if searching for something, but he didn't know what.
"Yeah," she agreed in a whisper. "Yeah, it did."
Her eyes flashed that fiery amber he'd grown to love seeing on her, before she reached up, her hands moving to the back of his neck and pulling him down to her as she tilted her head and their mouths met once more. He muttered a noise of surprise, having not expected her to kiss him back, at least not with the fire and heat she was using.
His arms wrapped around her, slipping to the small of her back and he pulled her closer to his body until they were pressed against each other. She nibbled at his lip and soothed it with a swipe of her hot tongue, before slipping it through his parted lips to meet with his own.
A growl that didn't belong to him but the hellhound part of him, tore from his chest when she wound a hand into the hair at the back of his neck and she tugged, her nails scratching against his skin in a way that was both comforting and arousing.
When a group of teens walked past wolf-whistling, they reluctantly pulled back from each other, realising they were in the middle of a street in London and surrounded by people. They were both breathing a little heavier and a lovely flush covered her cheeks. They stared at each other, him mesmerised by the way her eyes were flashing between amber and chocolate brown, as if she was having trouble controlling herself.
"Let's get out here," she spoke, her voice breathless and he nodded in agreement.
She took his hand and pulled him down the street and they ducked into an alley way, where she apparated them to The Leaky Cauldron and then they floo'd into her apartment.
They'd barely gotten out of the fireplace before they were wrapped around each other and their mouths pressed together as their tongues twined and danced. Fire coursed through his entire body and it didn't seem to be settling, as though it wasn't sure what to do.
Her hands were running over his chest before they settled on his shoulders, pushing his leather jacket off and down his arms. He reluctantly brought his hands away from her body to pull his jacket over his wrists and it dropped to the floor as she shrugged off her own blazer and kicked off her heels and their hands returned to exploring the other's body.
She gave a slight groan when she was pressed up against the wall and she hit her back a little harder than was intended, and as an apology he nibbled at her lip gently before swiping his tongue into her mouth. His hands shifted down her body until he reached her thighs just below her arse and she bounced up a little as he lifted her off her feet and pressed her against the wall, caging her in with his body as she hooked her legs around his waist and locked her ankles at the small of his back.
Her hands roamed his body, slipping between them until she gripped the edge of his t-shirt and she slowly pulled it up his body and over his head once he lifted his arms for her. She dropped it the ground and her hands moved to trace the thick muscle that was his shoulders and back, before slipping around to his chest and down his stomach, his hips bucking into hers when the palms of her hands moved over his nipples. She dug the heels of her feet into his back and bit his lip when he tore a moan from her. She could feel her body temperature rising and the more he distracted her, the harder it was getting to control herself. She didn't want to hurt him.
She heard rather than felt her blouse being torn open, the buttons flying in every direction possible and scattering on the floor and he pushed it over her shoulders, the fabric hanging open and held up by the crook of her elbows. She tore her mouth from his and left a blazing trail of kisses down his cheek, nibbling at his jaw and down his throat, before she latched onto his earlobe and began suckling at it.
A groan fell from his lips and he pushed her body against the wall harder, one of his hands gripping her waist and the other smoothing down her soft, taut stomach, not only feeling the hot heat coming off her skin –and it seemed to be getting hotter- but he could feel several raised scars, too. He knew it best not to mention them.
She released his earlobe from her mouth and brought her lips back to his, only he pulled back from her soon after and returned the favour, his hot lips moving to suckle at her throat and to the weak spot behind her ear. He knew it to be sensitive by the way her hands tightened on his shoulder and in his hair, by the way a delightful little moan tore from her lips and by the way she ground her hips against his.
He moved his mouth lower, his hot tongue trailing down her throat and over her collar bones and down into the valley of her breasts.
"Wait, wait, wait," he breathed out, pulling back from her, the already hardening length in his boxers twitching at the sight she made.
Her eyes were shut tightly and her head tilted back against the wall, her lips were red and swollen and parted as she panted breathlessly and some of her hair had fallen out of its restraint and was framing her flushed face. When her head lifted and her eyes opened showing the steady glowing amber, he was sure she'd be the death of him.
"What is it?" She breathed out breathlessly.
"I haven't even taken you on a date," he spoke, frowning slightly at the thought of bedding her when he hadn't even had the chance to treat her like the beautiful woman she was.
She gave a breathless laugh. "Are you kidding me? That's what's bothering you?" He nodded seriously and she gave a sigh. "You're such a gentleman that you're a pain in the arse. Well, they say three's the magic number, right?"
He nodded once more, wondering where she was going with her point. She removed her hand from his hair and held it up as she counted off the points on her fingers for him to see.
"Since meeting you, I've bought you coffee, you've bought me coffee. I've bought you lunch, you've bought me lunch. I've cooked you dinner, you've cooked me dinner. We go for walks in Diagon Alley and Muggle London and we'll stop for an ice-cream or a drink. We spend time together in my apartment and at my office. Now, do they or do they not sound like dates to you?"
He frowned thoughtfully, now that she mentioned, they did sound like dates, even if they hadn't been aware of it at the time.
"They do," he agreed.
"Good, now shut up and kiss me."
He didn't need to be told twice and his mouth collided with hers. She brought her hands away from him so her blouse could fall the rest of the way down her arms and onto the ground and she pushed off the wall and into him. He took the hint and wrapped his arms around her back to keep her from falling and he moved away from the wall and stumbled down the corridor, going straight to the end of it to Hermione's room.
She took her hand from his hair and reached behind her, twisting the door knob and pushing the door open and he moved inside and went straight over to the bed, pressing her back against the mattress. He pulled back from her, standing to look down at her and she looked beautiful. Absolutely enchanting. And less than pleased with his actions.
His eyes travelled her body, seeing that there was a thin line going across her throat which he hadn't noticed before. His eyes moved lower, catching sight of a large scar that started at her right shoulder and travelled diagonally down her body, going through the valley of her breasts, under her left breast and down to her left hip. A small collection of scars also sat close to her stomach and right hip.
He got the feeling she was watching for his reaction. What, did she think he would reject her for her scars? Did she think he wouldn't want her? That he wouldn't think she was beautiful?
Her gaze said she expected exactly that. Just who had she dated in her past to make her so self-conscious of her body?
He shook his head slightly and his eyes continued to roam her pale skin, before they settled on her breasts held snugly in the red and black lace of her bra, and they heaved with every breath she took.
He took a calming breath and clenched his hands into fists, fighting for control. He felt his eyes open and the look on her face let him know that his own eyes had now changed, too, fiery amber to match her own.
She reached out to him and hooked her fingers into the belt loops on his jeans and she tugged him forward until his body covered hers and she latched her mouth onto his. His hands slipped over her body before they went to her back and she arched her body into his, making it easier for him to undo the clasp and pull the material away from her, dropping it to the floor. His mouth moved from hers and down her body until he reached her breasts and a breathless moan tore from her when his mouth closed around a nipple, nibbling and suckling at the peak.
She dug her nails into his shoulders and her legs squeezed around his hips tightly. He pulled back from her, chuckling slightly as he moved his kisses down her stomach until he reached the waist band of her trousers, and he quickly undid the button and zipper, pulling the fabric down her legs and making sure to take her underwear with it, too. He dropped the clothing to the ground, leaving her naked and bare to his gaze as his eyes roamed her figure hungrily.
She made a noise of impatience.
"It won't take much effort to summon my wand and hex you," she warned.
He chuckled at her before he covered her body with his own, his mouth placing gentle nips, licks and kisses on her neck and throat, and when he felt her unzipping his jeans, he moved further down her body so she couldn't reach, holding in his laughter at her huff of annoyance which turned into a moan as he suckled at her nipple and her hands wound into his hair, tugging at the short strands.
"Stop teasing," she muttered, deliberately pulling at his hair hard enough that it made him wince.
His mouth twitched into a smirk as his lips moved down her stomach, tracing the little collection of scars by her hip. She held her breath when he moved lower, but he went straight past her centre and down to her ankles, picking up her right foot, noticing how small and dainty it was, as he placed little nips and licks against her ankle and slowly moving up the soft skin of her leg until he reached the top of her thigh, and then he moved to the other leg, starting at her ankle and slowly moving his kisses higher. He caught sight of what looked to be a bite mark on the inner side of her left thigh and he wondered if that was where she'd been bitten by the werewolf. He felt his protective instincts flare up until Hermione's breathless cry pulled his attention and he continued with his path of travel.
"I swear to Merlin and the Founders, if you're planning to... Oh God!" She choked as he pressed a kiss to her centre and he hid his chuckle from her when her head fell back and her hands gripped the bedding tightly.
He pushed her legs a little further apart and he settled himself between her thighs, getting himself comfortable so he could give her the attention she deserved. His arms wrapped around her thighs, holding them down and in place, whilst his tongue and mouth worked at her centre, licking and lapping, suckling and nibbling carefully, his tongue flicking over the little bundle of nerves and then sucking it into his mouth, before he dipped his tongue into her entrance teasingly.
He knew she was tightly wound; she was muttering to herself, her head was thrown back and her body had grown tense and was beginning to shake lightly under him. He could feel the temperature of her skin, hotter than should've possible and from the corner of his eye, he caught sight of smoke.
Her soft moans and breathless whines and little whimpers were music to his ears, and when he dipped his tongue into her entrance and tugged at her nub gently with his teeth, a high pitched whine sounded in the room and he knew he had her. He continued to lap at her, guiding her through the wave of pleasure coursing through her.
When she sagged into the mattress, her body relaxed, and her hands released their grip on the bedding, only then did he stop and he pulled back, all too happy to watch her in her post-orgasmic glow, because she was literally glowing, almost as if a fire were casting shadows on her.
Her cheeks were a lovely pinkish-red colour and he thought it was of his new favourite sights. Her breathing was heavy and laboured and she'd brought her hands up to push her hair out of her face and away from the beads of sweat that appeared on her forehead. He wasn't sure if that was due to him, or if it were caused by her own fiery body temperature.
His eyes moved to where her hands had been and they widened slightly, not only seeing black soot marks on the white bedding, but it seemed that where her fingers had been, she'd burnt holes in the blanket, the edges around the holes singed black and still smoking a little.
She really did have fire in her.
It was a good job he was fire-proof.