Five hours.
It took ten hours for Hermione to gather her courage to face Harry after her cowardly retreat. The rational part of her mind argued that he was at fault for doing that to her while the waitress was still there without even asking her… but also she was smart enough to realize she lacked the ability to deliver that argument against his face.
All he needed was to refer to their deal, and she would fold. She wished that wasn't the case … but considering she didn't even have the courage to face him immediately, that seemed like a hopeless bet.
The invisibility cloak she had been wearing left no doubt about the extent of her cowardice. She only dared to confront him once making sure there was no distraction … and preferably in a good mood. She planned to order him some food and drinks if he was still pissed.
And, if he was still angry, she still had her other surprise. The other reason she was wearing her invisibility cloak. She had walked around the cruise ship while trying to decide how to handle it, and while visiting one of the shops, she noticed an interesting ensemble.
A lingerie set, to be exact, made from transparent black fabric, complete with a garter belt. She hoped that it would be enough to bring him back into a good mood.
Was that wrong to buy lingerie to impress a man other than her fiancee? Yes. Was that any worse than the other stuff she had been doing?
Not even close.
She ignored the growing guilt at that realization — the ease that she managed to that shameful in its own right — and continued toward the honeymoon suit, where the tracking charms showed that he was there.
Hermione knew Ginny wouldn't be there, but that was more about her mundane understanding. Ginny had always been very mobile, almost hyperactive, and there was no chance she wasn't enjoying the full range of the entertainment the ship was offering when the alternative was to get stuck in a room with nothing to do.
Hermione continued to walk, her focus moving toward more mundane things, like the soft sensation of the invisibility cloak as it rubbed against her mostly naked skin. Maybe wearing nothing but that lingerie hadn't been the best idea.
"Be ready, girl," she muttered to herself as she stood at the entrance of her destination. Harry was there, ready for their talk.
"Harry, fuck me harder!"
Hermione froze as the cry hit her ears, and hit her hard. Harry was not alone.
She froze, not just at the realization that Harry was not alone, but also at the loud nature of the cry. It didn't hit her ears hard, but she knew just how good was the insulation of the room. The fact that she could hear it was enough to show the intensity of the cries.
"I … I should go," Hermione muttered. Apparently, Harry was not as torn up at her sudden disappearance as she had assumed. "I should go," she repeated, and she would have done it, if her legs didn't tremble as the shock hit her … along with all the insecurities that she had been suffering before meeting with him.
"After I start walking," she added, but as she waited, the curiosity got too much, and she leaned against the door, trying to get a clearer sense of what was going on. Unfortunately, that didn't make hearing any easier, and she just heard the muffled cries of pleasure.
Hermione would have blamed the slut Harry found while his bodyguards were absent for exaggerating it, but she still remembered how his touch felt. Memories rushed to her mind…
And with that, came fury.
"How dare he," Hermione found herself murmuring as she used the keycard to unlock the door, slipping inside. She already realized that there was only one option for the slut Harry was fucking. That slutty waitress, who was whore enough to target a married man — who was not really married, and also had Hermione on the side, but those were pointless details.
Hermione would show that slut…
She didn't slam the door behind her, but it was less about her confidence in her assumption, and more about her habit of hiding magic. She was still wearing her cloak, and a slamming door would be suspicious.
Yet, as she entered the room, she found herself glad for that habit, as the moment her gaze fell on Harry … and the slut he was busy with, she froze. She was expecting to find that slutty waitress on his lap…
… and not her future sister-in-law, naked as the day she was born, perched on the same shaft that had been inside Hermione less than a day ago, in the shower that was just a few steps away from her current position.
Hermione collapsed on the floor, glad for the presence of the invisibility cloak giving her time to process what was going on. She felt shocked and unbalanced by the confusing nature of the moment, and the way she was dressed didn't make it any easier.
She tried to hang onto the initial spark of fury she felt, but that died quickly under the storm of the erotic show Ginny was providing, showing an athletic explosiveness Hermione could never hope to match.
No wonder he chose Ginny, she thought, fury leaving its place to a sad acceptance, along with a mess she couldn't decipher that left her confused. But, among those emotions, inferiority took an important place.
Worst, she couldn't even blame Harry, as he never promised him anything … no, Hermione corrected herself. He promised her one thing, that he wouldn't touch her once the cruise came to an end.
At this moment, seeing Ginny enjoy it even more than she did — surely she didn't look that slutty, that braindead while she got fucked from behind — that promise about not touching her anymore didn't feel like a victory anymore.
Only by watching the way Ginny reacted, Hermione realized just how big of a sacrifice it would be to never touch him again. Worse, that realization did nothing to reduce the burning arousal between her legs, begging her to somehow ignore the situation and confront them, kick Ginny out, and take her place.
Unfortunately, her courage failed her, and she didn't go forward. Her common sense failed her as well, and she found herself unable to retreat as well. Invisible and locked in place, she just watched.
No harm in just watching, Hermine decided even as she slid back, leaning against the wall, watching them. She didn't expect them to continue for long — not because she didn't trust Harry, as she had first-hand experience with his stamina, but Ginny looked at the edge of a collapse — and the moment Harry left for the shower. Hermione would retreat.
Unfortunately, that still left several minutes to fill. Hermione planned to sit and watch, but then, as Harry started alternating between slapping Ginny's tits and licking her nipples, her body betrayed her. Her legs pressed against each other, rubbing repeatedly.
When she noticed that, the pleasure had already grown to the point to rob her ability to resist, leaving her desperate with a growing orgasm. "That would not do," she whispered, too soft to be noticed under their cries and grunts.
She didn't dare to cast a spell, afraid of being caught, but her wands had other uses.
Especially its blunt end.
She shivered as she brought it against her core, using it to rub her clit over her new panties, ruining them with her juices … oh, who was she kidding. They were long ruined by her wetness. Hermione bit her lips, trying to resist the pleasure provided by her rebellious body … wondering when they would stop.
She thought they would stop when Harry stood up, but that turned out to be a false alarm. Instead, he lifted her like she weighed nothing, and they started walking around the room like they were having a stroll …. But every step pushed his presence deep into Ginny.
Their new approach gave Hermione a much better view, especially when they suddenly stopped near her, and Harry pressed Ginny against the same wall Hermione was leaning against, just a step between them, giving Hermione an excellent view of the show as his shaft disappeared inside her future sister-in-law, again and again.
The strongest emotion she felt as she watched them was jealousy. A voice in her head mocked Hermione for losing her position to Ginny just because she was cowardly enough not to commit. She had good reasons not to commit, of course, reasons that were strong enough to keep her from touching him at all.
But somehow, at this moment, Hermione was drawing a blank on those strong, important reasons. Her arousal, burning thickly in her core, did the impossible, and finally brought her mind to a complete stop.
She wished that she could move freely she could rub herself against a nearby table, or even find a nice dryer to perch on and enjoy the show with some assistance. Under different situations, she would have found a solution already, but mind-numbing arousal kept her on the edge, making it impossible to think.
Hermione was completely and utterly lost.
She just watched as Ginny shuddered for a final time next to her, collapsing in exhaustion. Harry just chuckled as he carried her to her bed, and walked to the shower.
Hermione used the opportunity to retreat … with no idea how to confront them.