The kiss was soft at first, a gentle meeting of mouths, a tentative exploration. But as the seconds stretched on, it deepened, became more insistent, more urgent. The weight of everything unsaid between them, the grief, the guilt, the longing, seemed to pour into that single moment, binding them together in a way that words never could.
The distant sound of fireworks crackled in the background, but Hermione hardly noticed. All she could focus on was the feel of Frank's lips against hers, the way his hands cradled her face, the way the world seemed to blur at the edges, leaving just the two of them, tangled together in the dark.
"Frank," Hermione whispered against his mouth, gasping for breath when he swooped back in for more.
"Shh," he mumbled and hooked his leg under her knee before flipping her onto her back. His hand trailed down her neck, arm, and then rested on her waist. The simple action had her heart beating faster.
She could feel his breath, warm and steady, ghosting against her lips.
"Frank, are you sure?" she whispered, her voice fragile in the quiet.
He hesitated, just barely, and then shook his head, the roughness of his beard grazing her jaw. His hands tightened around her waist as he pressed closer, his weight a comforting anchor. She felt cocooned in his embrace, the heat of his body enveloping her. It felt safe. It felt like home.
Hermione closed her eyes and breathed him in, her senses drowning in the heady mix of his scent. Woodsmoke. Whiskey. The faint trace of pine, sharp and earthy, lingering in his hair and skin. The combination sent a shiver down her spine, making her heart race. Her body responded instinctively, warming under his touch, wanting more.
The air between them thickened, and every breath she took mingled with his, making the space between them somehow even more intimate. She inhaled deeply, savouring the way he felt against her, the way he smelled, and in that moment, she didn't want him to let go. The world outside ceased to exist—there was only this, only him.
His scruffy beard brushed her jaw, then lightly skimmed her lips, a tantalising tease that left her breathless.
"Do you want me to stop?" he murmured, his voice a low, raspy whisper.
In that moment, Hermione knew with an overwhelming certainty what she wanted—no, needed—more than anything she had ever desired in her life. Every inch of her ached with that longing, the kind that blurred reason and ignited the senses.
She felt him whisper something against her temple, his words lost in the heat between them. She turned her head, and suddenly his lips were grazing hers, a fleeting touch that sent a shiver racing down her spine.
If she had paused to think, even for a second, she might have hesitated. But she didn't. She couldn't. Instead, she closed the remaining distance between them, her need overpowering any lingering doubt.
She had been kissed before, but never like this. It was raw, urgent, consuming. Frank's mouth was warm, insistent, and utterly relentless, as if he was trying to claim every part of her. Hermione was unravelling, drowning in the intensity of him, her world reduced to the sensation of his lips moving against hers.
Her hips bucked under him, trying to get more friction. He pressed insistently against her core, growing even harder, hotter, against her.
With a sound that might have been a sob, she pulled her mouth away. "Frank—we—I—"
He locked his arms around her waist and wrapped her legs around his waist. "Please…"
With a low groan, she closed the gap between them once more. This kiss was even more devastating, an electric surge of raw emotion that left her breathless. Frank's hand moved to the back of her neck, his thumb gently resting beneath her jaw. With a firm yet tender touch, he tilted her head back, exposing the delicate curve of her throat. The vulnerability of the moment sent a shiver through her, and she surrendered completely to the intensity of his embrace.
He yanked his head back, leaving her begging for more, and ducked down to her neck. He peppered fierce, hungry kisses over her skin and sucked, sucked, sucked until she was keening under him, rocking her hips, unable to control herself. He was shifting against her too, and every movement felt like a flash of fire between her brain and her core.
Her mind was screaming something at her, something that she couldn't understand, so she didn't bother to pay attention to it.
She wedged her arm between them and reached down. Her searching fingers found exactly what they had been looking for. As she cupped him through his trousers, he moaned against her neck. The sound was dark, sinful, and impossibly loud, reverberating through the stillness. It was electrifying, like a bolt of lightning shooting through her entire body, igniting every nerve and leaving her breathless in its wake.
"More," he begged, panting heavily against her, and Hermione began stroking up and down his cock, revelling in the feeling of him twitching in her hands. She let go and reached for his waistband.
"Let me," Frank whispered, bringing one hand around to catch hers. But instead of pulling his trousers down, he reached for the belt loops of her jeans.
Hermione shifted her weight so he could ease them off, her heart pounding in her ears.
He propped himself on one elbow above her, the night air cool and biting against her exposed skin. She flinched slightly at his touch, the sudden contrast of warmth and cold sending a shiver down her spine.
One hand slid along the inside of her thigh.
"Tell me to stop," Frank whispered in her ear, his weight pressing her down into the mattress.
Hermione's breath caught in her throat, a tremor of hesitation threading through her. She knew she should pull back, should stop him before things went too far. But her mind was a haze, and her heart had taken the reins, determined and unyielding.
The consequences seemed distant and irrelevant.
This was the moment.
"Don't stop," she whispered, her voice trembling with a mixture of surrender and longing.
His fingers slid higher, tracing patterns from her thigh up along the edge of her hip bone. The gentle, intimate caress sent a wave of molten warmth through her, her stomach turning into a quivering mass of sensation.
"Tell me to stop," he pleaded once more, his voice laced with concern.
"Don't stop," she whispered brokenly, her voice barely audible. She ached for his touch, having gone so long without the warmth and connection she now craved. The need for his presence overwhelmed her, and she clung to the moment, desperate and yearning. She missed the feeling of being filled, of being fucked without a care in the world.
"Tell me to stop," he begged, his voice trembling with a mix of desperation and vulnerability, edged with a raw, urgent need.
"Please, Frank," Hermione moaned, her body arching in response to his maddeningly light touch. "Don't stop."
With an anguished sound, he slid his fingers between her folds. His thumb nestled against the sensitive spot near the top, and his middle finger slipped down to her entrance. Every movement of his hand added to the tidal wave that was building inside her. She moaned again, and he slammed his lips against hers again, teeth clashing sloppily, noses bumping, as he swallowed the sounds she made.
She arched into him, and he groped her in the darkness. His hand slipped under her shirt, drunkenly looking for her tits. He pulled her bra out of the way, sighing with contentment as his fingers finally found what they were looking for.
He squeezed her breasts and flicked his thumb against her nipple and her clit over and over again until she was sobbing under him.
He grinned when she buried her hands in his hair and tried to shove him away, tears streaming down her face. "Was that too much?"
"Don't torture me like that," she whispered, her cheeks flushed and wet.
Frank rested his head on her collarbone, his eyes dark and intoxicating as they gazed up at her. Hermione's mind spun with the intensity of the sensations flooding her body. She had never felt anything like this before, and the unfamiliarity left her disoriented and unsure of what to do next.
"I'll make you feel good," He wriggled around a bit and slid down the length of her body.
He grasped her thighs and pulled them apart, and she cried out when he lowered his mouth and bit the inside of her thigh. Without further ado, he buried his face in between her legs and sucked and licked and kissed and bit.
And Hermione screamed.
Her toes curled as he feasted on her like a starving, dying man, and she grabbed his hair. It was too much for her. She couldn't think. Couldn't breathe. Everything was too much—yet not. The way he was pinning her to the mattress. The way his beard burned against the insides of her thighs. The way his nose bumped against her clit. His guttural moans as he tasted her over and over and over again.
Her stomach swooped and clenched, and her thighs began cramping up, but she didn't stop him. When he parted her folds and shoved his tongue inside her, as if he couldn't stop himself, Hermione's shoulders tensed and her core clenched hard. Fireworks went off behind her eyes. Her back arched completely off the bed, and she screamed, her voice echoing in the silent manor, "Frank!"
Frank forced her to ride his tongue, his firm hands keeping her hips plastered to the mattress. Her ears were ringing, her body was spasming, and she could hear Frank murmuring soft encouragement against her clit.
"There you go," he murmured, "Good girl… That's it…"
Hermione's mind was even blanker than it had been before. She couldn't focus on anything else except the wonderful, mind-blowing sensation that had rocked through her body.
She had never known sex could feel like this.
She wanted more.
Frank pulled his mouth away, and Hermione cried out for more, reaching out blindly to grab him by his shirt. "More…"
Frank breathed heavily as he arched his back and furiously began yanking his trousers down. The fire in her stomach howled. She was so empty, and she wanted nothing more than to be filled by Frank's cock.
He lowered himself over her, and she delighted in the feel of his bare skin against hers. She made a move to grab his hips, to pull him closer, to make him fill the emptiness that had been plaguing her for so long.
His cock slid between her thighs, and he shuddered as it pressed against her entrance.
They were on the precipice of something bigger than themselves. She could feel it in her bones, thrumming with an electric urgency, a primal connection that seemed to pulse and resonate with every beat of her heart.
"Fuck, you're so wet," Frank whispered in awe. He reached down and grabbed her leg, hooking it over his arm. Hermione gasped as the head of his cock popped inside her with a wet, sinful sound that had her stomach trembling.
There was no going back now.
"Please," she whispered, holding herself back. She needed him to move. To do something.
"This might hurt," he warned, meeting her gaze for a long moment.
She reached up and tucked his hair behind his ear, letting her fingers graze against his cheek. Murmuring a soft 'don't stop,' she gave him her consent.
He rocked his hips, sliding his cock inside her oh-so-slowly. Hermione whined and clenched her eyes shut.
He was… bigger than she had expected. But she wanted more, so she arched her back off the bed, closing the distance between them.
Stars filled her vision at the sudden pain as Frank's cock slid all the way down to the base. But the pain was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by the sensation of overwhelming fullness. It felt right.
Frank pulled back to study her face. "You okay?"
"Yes, don't stop," she whispered, tilting her hips experimentally. The wave of pleasure that crashed over her took her by complete surprise. "Oh…"
Frank ducked his head to kiss the corner of her mouth. "You feel wonderful… So wet, so warm…"
He pushed himself up as best as he could and hooked her other leg over his arm too. His cock almost popped out, but he thrust his hips into hers to keep it in its place. Hermione clenched around him to help him too.
His low groan had her feeling so sinful that she covered her face with her hands. He thrust again, and then again, and then he was pumping in and out, burying himself to the hilt inside her. "So tight… How… Perfect…"
Hermione caught his rhythm and began moving too, arching her hips up to give better leverage. "Merlin, harder…"
"As you wish," Frank muttered. He was already pressing her thighs to her chest, bending her in half and picking up speed. He moaned as she clenched around him, and he tightened his own grip on her thighs. He kept on filling her, his balls slapping against her arse with each thrust.
It was almost too much to bear.
"Fuck," he swore as he lost his balance and almost flattened her under him. Even his weight, his whiskey-tainted breath, and his sweaty skin felt delicious to her.
He bit her lower lip, sucked on it, and kept it tugged into his mouth as he fucked her harder than before. His elbows were now on either side of her head, her thighs still pushed up against her chest.
"Fuck," he swore again, louder this time, and then he gasped.
Hermione felt it happen.
His balls swelled and pulsed as his cock spasmed, some kind of growl trapped in his throat. He dropped his head onto her shoulder and squeezed her in between his arms, holding her in place as he fucked her through their combined orgasm.
And then, Hermione heard it.
"Alice…"
A sudden chill.
Her heart dropped.
Tears stung her eyes.
Pain twisted inside her.
She froze.
The warmth between them evaporated.
Her breath caught.
The room felt too small.
She wanted to pull away.
But she couldn't move.
He whispered the name as his rhythm slowed, then came to a final stop. He let out one last groan before sprawling on top of her. Hermione lay beneath him, trapped in a haze of confusion and pain.
She had been drunk before, but the moment he called out Alice's name, she became instantly sober.
The weight of his body felt suffocating now.
Her mind raced, every detail of their night replaying with harsh clarity.
The warmth, the closeness, the intimacy—now tainted.
The name "Alice" echoed in her thoughts, a cruel reminder.
She shifted uncomfortably, trying to escape the overwhelming sense of betrayal. Guilt and sadness clashed inside her, leaving her numb. Every breath felt heavy, laden with regret and disappointment.
With a heavy heart, she pushed him off her, and his cock, still wet with their combined fluids, slipped out of her with a soft plop. The sound, which had once thrilled her with its deliciously scandalous allure, now felt like a weighty anchor dragging her heart down.
Frank's head lolled to the side, his chest rising and falling in a steady, rhythmic motion. He looked so serene, so at peace in his slumber.
Hermione's heart twisted with a pang of envy and sorrow. The contrast between his calm and her inner turmoil was stark and painful. Each breath he took seemed to deepen her own sense of regret. The quiet room felt heavy with the remnants of their night together. She was left grappling with the realisation of what had truly transpired.
She pulled on her jeans and slipped out of Frank's room, closing the chapter behind her.