"Right now?" Hermione asked after his order to flip and reveal her body to a waitress.
"Sure, I'm sure it's not the first pair of tits a waitress that works in a cruise ship saw, right?"
"N-no, sir," the waitress whispered. "We have several topless sunbathing areas."
"See," Harry said.
Hermione felt her voice was not that decisive, but Harry's voice was, and Hermione was getting used to following his orders. A dangerous precedent, she realized, one that she needed to solve…
After they arrived at Hogwarts.
Instead of trying to argue, she turned and lay on her back, not surprised when his hands ignored the rest of her body and started mauling her breasts. "We just need juice," he said as he looked at the waitress. "I don't like to drink under the sun."
Hermione wanted to disagree, as she could certainly use a glass of wine … or several, but it wasn't the first time she found herself unable to contradict him. He just had that kind of authority, especially while he was working on her nipples with his fingers.
Or, with his tongue after leaning over, Hermione noted. Luckily, at this point, the waitress was gone after leaving two glasses on the small table. Hermione felt helpless to resist. And, since she couldn't resist, there was no harm in enjoying, she reasoned as she closed her eyes, loving the sensation of the caress of the wind contrasting with the caress of his tongue.
Harry sucked on each of her nipples and slowly kissed down her stomach, planting one on her belly button, teasing her even more than his usual habits, playing with her body like a musical instrument.
The gentleness changed when he moved between her thighs and planted his mouth on her bikini-covered mound. She moaned as his tongue pushed at the fabric of her bikini and she wished she was naked so that he could push it inside fully.
She wondered if she accidentally revealed that, or if her moan was just that needy, but he chose that moment to rip off her bottom and started licking her.
Her eyes popped open as she looked down, watching his messy hair as he worked on her wetness. The pleasure burst even higher as he penetrated her with his tongue. She felt her lips tighten around his tongue as she moaned once again.
"You have a sweet taste," he whispered, and despite everything, Hermione found herself blushing.
"Shut up," she whispered. That was not something she needed to hear. Not right now. She might have said something else, but her pleasure was building up fast, driving her toward another orgasm, even faster than she was getting used to, but the semi-public setting was ruining her ability to resist.
Ridiculous, Hermione taught. All those years living, orgasms were nonexistent for her even when she teased herself, but just in a few days, they had turned into a habit. She had received the last one just several hours ago … to her shame, in Ginny's shower while the poor girl lay unconscious.
Luckily, she was too strong to get addicted to this feeling. She just needed to return to Hogwarts, and lose herself in the library… What was the pleasure of the flesh, when compared to the intellectual stimulation from magic…
Though, as he shrugged his swimsuit and slid inside her, it got much harder to actually believe in her own mental wondering…
"… as I said, don't worry about it. I know exactly what they are doing, and I'm alright with it," Ginny repeated for the third time, interrupting the poor panicking waitress.
"If you're sure…" she finally said. "But still, you better put this on to remind your husband what's really important. His home, not his dalliances … no matter how tight the ass of her secretary," she added, the last part barely a whisper.
Ginny found herself blushing as the poor waitress left. "Silly girl," Ginny said, finally chuckling as she wished since she burst in, talking about how she saw Harry teasing his secretary in a very inappropriate manner.
It was amusing to think the poor waitress had seen Harry cupping Hermione's ass just as he left the room to tease Ginny, and it was even more amusing to see the poor waitress panic just because of a little caress. Apparently, some muggles were even more conservative than the magical. Ginny had to interrupt her three times just to prevent her from panickedly explaining an innocent — well, almost innocent — grab.
Still, her gaze fell into the little gift she had left. A long, flowing robe, one that weighed almost nothing despite the area that it covered as it was made from the thinnest fabric Ginny had ever seen. Even looking at the white fabric was enough to make her blush.
She should get rid of it. She certainly couldn't explain its presence to Harry if he found it. Not after what happened in the morning.
It was proof of her willpower when she managed to ignore the robe for almost half an hour before her curiosity got the better of her, and she changed into them. "Fascinating," she murmured as the white fabric wrapped around her, dancing with every twirl, yet thin enough not to hide anything.
She locked her gaze in the mirror, unable to reject the weight of the moment, each second making her shiver more. Soon, her mind slipped back to what happened in the morning. Alone, she could admit that she had let things get too far.
In a number of ways, from the way she dressed, to the ridiculous challenge, or the way she reacted — or didn't react — as he teased her in the bed.
Unfortunately, even Ginny was realizing that, she had made a mistake. Her endless Quidditch practices and her dueling training taught her to pay attention to her surroundings, but split between her sexy show and her memories, she somehow missed the door opening.
Worse, she somehow missed Harry walking toward her, changing only when he suddenly hugged her from behind. She froze, both at his presence, and his daring.
"Oh, we're continuing with this game. You're daring…" he whispered, and it clicked her. It was a misunderstanding. She opened her mouth to correct him. He spoke faster. "You're really brave, I'm fascinated."
Ginny found it very hard to say that she didn't dress to continue their game. She liked Harry — the Harry Potter — saying that she was brave, and correcting him was difficult.
Even if it meant accepting his hands pressing against her belly. She was still dressed, right. Where was the harm? It was just muggle fashion. She bit her lips, repeating it in her mind. If she repeated it a sufficient number of times, maybe she would actually believe it.
Instead, she paid him back with a flirtatious smile, taking the risk of encouraging him even further. What else she was supposed to do with his hands exploring her body? Not react and disappoint the savior of the magical world? The savior that was making her tremble as his fingers danced on her skin.
But, her mind changed when his hands moved up, cupping her breasts. "Harry," she whispered, realizing that she had flirted with him enough. It was getting dangerous.
"Yes, Ginny," he answered, but then, he leaned to kiss her neck, ignoring her gaze as she tried to catch his eyes through his reflection. She tensed. "Sorry for this," he whispered once he pulled back. Ginny relaxed, realizing he was the one that stopped.
"It seems that I'm the winner," she whispered, unable to help herself. It was a bad idea, she realized even as she said it, but she was too competitive to stop and take her words back.
"No, I wanted to apologize, because I forgot to tell you just how amazing you look wearing this amazing outfit. You're lovely … ravishing even."
The confident grin he gave as he complimented made Ginny tremble. Or, maybe it was his hands, still on her breasts, squeezing them.
His touch was somehow cold and burning at the same time, her body's reactions dangerous. Still, even as she realized things were devolving into a dangerous point, Ginny found it very difficult to ask him to stop.
Leaning back to feel his body against hers was much easier. Even if it made his manhood bury deep into her ass, making her tremble helplessly.
It wasn't her fault. It was the waitress' fault, for misunderstanding the situation and bringing this dress to her. No, not just her, Ginny suddenly realized. It was also Hermione's fault. She was the one that allowed Harry to cup her ass without slapping him in the middle of a corridor, creating the misunderstanding.
If there was someone innocent, with no blame under her feet, it was herself. She was the only innocent one … A victim, even.
And, since she was a victim of the circumstances, it was not wrong of her to enjoy it, right?