Tom's eyes were on Hermione, who was lying in his bed, asleep. After she had reacted so sensitively to his advances last weekend, he had insisted that she slept in his bed every night. He understood that Lestrange had left permanent scars on her soul, even if he couldn't understand her feelings. She needed protection and he was more than willing to give it to her. She should feel safe with him, in his bed.
She insisted that it was only temporary and that she wanted her privacy back in her room at some point, and of course he had agreed. Whether he would let her go again was another matter. Once they were married, they would be sharing a bed every night anyway, so she could get used to it now. And no one from Slytherin would betray them to a professor.
Slowly, he turned the pages of the book he was reading. A small light over his shoulder illuminated just enough to read the pages without disturbing Hermione's sleep. He had learnt by now that she was a restless sleeper who needed every minute she could get. Over the course of the week, she had repeatedly woken up at night and crept quietly into his bathroom without realising that she had woken him up as well.
It was as if her mind never really came to rest. As if she was constantly on guard, always on the run, ready to jump up and run away at the slightest sign of danger. He carefully stroked her back with one free hand. Here, too, they seemed to have very similar experiences. During his time at the orphanage, he had hardly dared to sleep soundly. He had been played nasty tricks on too often when he was not yet able to defend himself properly. Too rarely had the so-called adults intervened. It had taken him two years before his body was convinced that he was safe in the dormitory here at Hogwarts - even though he shared it with other boys.
That was one of the reasons why he had already planned his time after Hogwarts carefully. There would be no 'after Hogwarts' for him. He would stay here, as a professor. He would apply for the next vacancy as soon as he could. Tom already knew exactly which position he wanted. Galatea Merrythought would certainly retire this year, he would see to that, and then he could teach Defence Against the Dark Arts here. He could stay here and be at the source at the same time.
A part of him became uncertain whenever he thought about this future. As though it was uncertain whether he would get the job. As though it was doubtful that he would leave Hogwarts even as an adult wizard. Annoyed, Tom closed the book. Whenever these thoughts came to him, he felt an unpleasant tension that only left him once he pushed the thoughts aside. This part of him that constantly voiced worries and insecurities was despicably weak. That wasn't who he really was.
Hermione turned next to him and opened her eyes. "Tom?" Her voice sounded sleepy, like she was somewhere else entirely.
Grinning, he put the book down on his bedside table and rolled over onto his half-asleep girlfriend. What better way to suppress weak thoughts than a Hermione who was lost in lust? If she was awake, she could help him too.
"My heart," he whispered to her as he slowly pushed up her nightgown to feel her bare skin beneath him. He placed light kisses on her neck and felt the tiredness slowly disappear from her.
When his hand finally closed around her breast, he heard her heavenly whimpers. "Tom," she breathed, "what's wrong? What time is it?"
With a smile, he slid down a little so that he could caress her breasts with his mouth too. "What does it matter? I'm in the mood to spoil you a little."
Gone were all thoughts of her needing sleep. He wanted to see her break beneath him, that was all that mattered now. Deliberately slowly, he ran a hand down between their bodies, tracing every curve of her belly, briefly playing with the bone that showed a little on her hip before reaching purposefully between her legs.
At the same time, he closed his lips around her hardening nipples and found her most sensitive spot between her legs. He was rewarded with a strangled cry, followed by her small hands clawing into his hair as Hermione arched her back beneath him and spread her legs wider.
Hermione didn't understand why this was happening, but she had no energy to resist. His lips felt too heavenly, the pressure of his thumb between her legs too perfect. Panting, she rubbed herself against his hand as her own ran through his thick curls again and again. Heat gathered in her centre and she could feel herself getting wet.
Tom seemed to have noticed this too, because he let go of her breasts and pushed himself further down. He pressed her thighs further apart with both hands before sinking his head between them. A sound from deep inside her escaped her lips as he licked emphatically over her folds. Then his mouth turned to her bud as two fingers slid very slowly inside her.
Hermione strained to hold still and let Tom do his thing. It took all her self-control not to simply grab his hair and rub herself against him. A hot shiver ran through her body as Tom picked up a slow pace. While his tongue played around her most sensitive spot, his fingers slid deep inside her again and again.
She desperately clawed at her pillow and bit her lip. Tom's slow caresses almost drove her out of her mind. She wanted more. She needed more. Against her will, her hips jerked, but Tom immediately stopped and pressed her into the mattress with one hand. "Hold still, my heart. You don't want me to suddenly lose interest, do you?"
Desperate curses formed on Hermione's tongue, but she swallowed them and closed her eyes in surrender. Tom resumed his game and she gave in. She let herself fall. Heat spread throughout her body and sweat broke out on her forehead. As if her senses were suddenly heightened, she felt the soft mattress beneath her, his fingers inside her, rubbing so perfectly against her inner walls, his velvety tongue on her sensitive bud. She heard her own panting, which became louder, more frantic, more uncontrolled.
A tremor ran through her body, signalling the approaching orgasm. But just as she thought she could finally let go, Tom stopped. She opened her eyes in horror and looked into his grinning face.
"You'll only come today if I let you," he explained, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
Frustrated, she propped herself up on her elbows. "Please, Tom. It's not fair."
But all her pleading was to no avail. Without touching her, Tom crawled up to her before lowering himself a little and giving her a long kiss. It was strange to taste herself, but it only increased her desire even more. Her hips jerked again and again, seeking contact, seeking him to rub against, but he kept avoiding her.
Pouting, she withdrew her mouth from his and looked to the side to interrupt the kiss. He tried to turn her back, but she put all her strength into looking away from him so that he finally gave up. Laughing softly, he grabbed her hips and forced her to turn onto her stomach. Still sulking, Hermione let him have his way without helping him. He had woken her in the middle of the night and pushed her to the brink of climax, only to leave her hanging.
She heard him undressing behind her and prepared herself to finally feel him inside her. She held her breath and stretched her bum out towards him, still wet, still driven by her lust. But once again she was disappointed.
"You have such a perfect bum, Hermione," she heard him murmur as his left hand ran over her curves. Greedily, she pressed into the touch, but he didn't give her what she wanted. His fingers lingered on the soft skin of her buttocks while her centre, hot and wet and throbbing, remained untouched. Each time his thumb passed over the place where bum and thigh merged, she hoped he would finally touch her, but each time he dashed that hope.
Instead, she heard him start to pleasure himself with his right hand. Cursing, she buried her face in her pillow as she imagined what she must look like to him. Her bottom stretched out wantonly in the air towards him, so wet and open. She could hear from his breathing that he was more than aroused too, but he seemed to be enjoying the game too much to want to release her.
"Tom," she tried again, not caring how desperate she sounded. "Please! Please!"
She could hear the smirk from his voice as he replied, "Please what?"
She knew what he wanted to hear, but even after all these months, she found it hard to form the words. She took a deep breath. Then she propped herself up on her forearms, pushing herself up a little so that she could turn her head towards him. She looked him straight in the eye. She only had this one shot, she wouldn't be able to muster up any more courage. "Fuck me. Hard and without holding back. I want to feel you inside me, all of you. I want to come with your cock buried deep inside me."
She could see that her words affected him. That he had to swallow before he found his voice again to answer her. The expression in his eyes hardened, as if it took all his concentration not to come on her immediately. "When you come, it will be with my name on your lips. You will only come when I allow you to. If you can't control yourself..."
He didn't have to say the threat, Hermione understood. She just nodded, unable to say another word, and let herself sink back onto the pillow.
Finally, she felt him behind her. He was hot and hard and she knew it would be a struggle not to come on the spot when he entered her. He ran his cock through her folds several times, gathering fluid until he was ready. Then he positioned himself and Hermione held her breath.
Slowly, way too slowly, he penetrated her. She bit her lip and clenched her fists to stop herself from pushing against him. Inch by inch, he pushed himself into her, stretching her, and with every inch he pushed into her, it became harder for Hermione to control herself. She heard his laboured breathing next to her ear. Felt the heat emanating from his body and mingling with her own. And yet all her senses were focussed on her centre, on the heavenly friction that was not enough.
When he was completely inside her, he paused for a moment. Caught his breath, just like her. Then he slid out of her almost as slowly, almost completely, before he entered her again, faster this time, but still far too slowly. He repeated this again and again, picking up a rhythm that seemed almost careless. Again and again, she felt how he stretched her, how he rubbed against her so perfectly, and then how she lost him again, how the emptiness left her whimpering.
Sweat poured from her pores as the slow rhythm drove her steadily back to her climax. She desperately clawed her fingernails into the palm of her hand to hold back the orgasm. She couldn't come until he said so. Her breathing became frantic, her whole body tensed. She wanted to come, but she wasn't allowed to.
Suddenly Tom stopped, buried deep inside her, and let himself sink onto her with all his weight. That alone almost sent her over the edge. The sudden pressure of his body, his heat, his muscles. She realised again how big he was and how small she was. His hands found hers, forcing her to unclench her fists. A tremor seized her body.
"Tom," she moaned desperately, her own voice rough and dark with lust. "Tom, please. I can't ... I can't take any more. Please. Please let me come. Please!"
As if it was the only word she still knew, she repeated it over and over again. The plea fell from her lips like a waterfall, desperate, whimpering, so close and yet so far.
"I love to hear you beg," Tom whispered to her, his tone also dark and strained. "Don't forget to scream my name when you come."
His right hand travelled under her body, purposefully between her legs and found her sensitive knot again. It was almost a growl that punctuated his pressed "Come!" as he increased the pressure on her centre with his thumb.
Relief washed over Hermione and she was finally allowed to let go. She felt herself twitching inside, her muscles tightening around his hard length deep inside her as his thumb pressed against her. "Tom!" she gasped out, breathless, whimpering, panting. Again and again, the wave of orgasm rolled through her, taking away her ability to speak, reducing her whole world to just that one spot between her legs.
Finally, it ebbed away, leaving heaviness in her limbs and contentment in her mind. As the trembling of her body subsided, she felt Tom lean up. She no longer had the strength to stick her bum out at him, so she simply enjoyed the way he let go of his control too. Unlike before, his pace was now fast and relentless.
He pushed into her, one hand clutching her hip, the other on her shoulder. Each thrust was punctuated by a deep moan until he finally lost the rhythm and came deep inside her with a few final, hard movements. She thought she heard him curse as he poured himself into her.
Breathing heavily, he remained on top of her, still inside her. "When you moan my name as you come, my heart, you have no idea what that does to me. I love the way you melt under my hands, break, just give yourself completely to your lust. I will never get tired of it."
She smiled in response and rubbed her cheek against his as he brought his face close to hers. Then he rolled off her, stood up from the bed, and held a hand out to her. "Come on. We should shower before we go back to sleep."
Groaning, she obeyed the request, even though she would have preferred to fall asleep on the spot.