Harry and Hermione lemons i found

by ttyyt

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36. 36 (03-27 10:25:13)

"Thank you for shopping here, happy Christmas. I'm sure your new addition to your collection will keep you busy," said Hermione cheerfully to one of her customers. The lady's lips turned up in a warm smile thereafter as she murmured her gratitude and bade her goodbye.

On some days when she ran her store, the twenty-two year old girl had to put on a masterclass in acting to make herself seem cheerful. Today, however, was not one of those days. So many people had come into her store to pick up whatever books or other bookish accouterments that caught their fancy. It was, put simply, amazing.

With nightfall having come as soon as it could and then a light dusting of snow following it thereafter, Hermione took great joy in watching the outside world gradually become a mess of white and other vivid colours from the faery lights that adorned each building around her store. Nothing could ruin her day and night.

That thought in mind had her smiling as she documented the last purchase in her ledger and updated the inventory to reflect it. Running a bookstore had allowed her some respite from the usual holiday craziness but that didn't mean she wasn't fond of the people who elected to buy books for Christmas. In fact, those people had her respect.

Ever since the turn of the millennium, technology had broken free from its restraints and rapidly advanced at blinding speed. New things were being invented everyday for pleasure, for leisure, for relaxation, and whatever else a good book used to be capable of doing. Nowadays, no one liked to sit down and get lost between the pages of a book.

No one wanted to be transported to a whole new and exciting world through mere words on paper. It was heartbreaking but there were still a few older souls who shared her beliefs. That gave her the comfort needed to trudge on in managing her bookstore. And a day like today, a week before Christmas when so many decided to pick up a new title, made it all worth it.

As she lost herself in the thoughts assaulting her, Hermione never noticed her store's door opening to permit entry to a new customer. So lost she was in her musings on technology and the death of books that it wasn't until a shadow loomed over her behind the counter.

"Oh, my apologies…" Hermione hastily began before thought left her mind. Standing over her in front of the counter was a man. More like a creature from the night. Clad in a matte black leather racer jacket and black jeans, the new customer also wore a completely blacked out motorcycle helmet. He was a shadow and so damn imposing.

Her heart skipped several beats in place, what felt like flames lapped at her suddenly burning skin, and the store suddenly felt devoid of any oxygen. Dear goodness. Hermione hated to admit it but she was scared. Whoever this shadowy creature was, he did not look like he was here for a new book in his collection.

"Do you mind if I leave my helmet here while I peruse your store, ma'am?" She blinked at him once, twice, then a third time and still did not realize he was speaking to her. His voice was muffled behind the helmet but sounded, for lack of a better word, young. "Erm…ma'am did you hear me?"

Biker Man was calling her 'ma'am'. At least he was respectful. Her heart started to regain an easy rhythm as the air filtered back into the room. Alright, the creature of the night didn't seem intent on killing her and sucking her blood out. Oh, what was she thinking? That was stupid.

"Are you alright, ma'am?" He called her that word again and suddenly, really suddenly, something else began to fill her belly. And it definitely wasn't fear.

She needed to speak instead of staring at him like a statue. "Yes, of course. Take all the time you need, your helmet will be safe here." Christmas miracles were real. How couldn't they be after she managed to get all of her response out without tripping over the words and suffering like some shy schoolgirl?

"I feel reassured already, ma'am." Oh. Now, she knew what it was that was in her belly. Butterflies. Lots and lots of butterflies. The girl trained a wondering gaze to her new customer and observed him undoing some kind of strap before beginning to remove his helmet.

Whoever this man was, he was…err…straight out of one of the more spicier books she had read. Tall and imposing, check . Vibrant and elegant emerald green eyes that housed a sort of darkness but also warmth, check . With a bed of silken messy locks that adorned him like a crown, check . Was this one of her fictional characters come to life?

Thankfully, before her mind could wander down that path of recalling the spiciest scenes from her books that involved men just like him, he set his helmet down gently enough to make only a soft thud. The sound was enough, though, to shock her back into London, 2001.

"Thank you again. I'm not particularly fond of leaving it outside with my bike and I don't like lugging the damn thing around everywhere," Biker Man added. Dear God, his voice was so much clearer now and those butterflies multiplied from thousands to MILLIONS. It was smooth, not unlike soft creamery butter, but had an undertone of darkness. If she could wholly compare it to something, his voice sounded like a wintry night in the highlands where nothing but the shadows and moonlight kept one company.

And she loved it. What few friends she had and her parents would be appalled to know that Hermione Granger, innocent little bookworm and bookstore owner, enjoyed the feeling of tenebrosity creeping over her.

He turned to leave her presence and begin his browsing around but she didn't want him to do so just yet. Hermione wanted to continue treading into the shadows.

"Because of the winter?" She called, hoping to engage him in conversation about leaving his helmet with her.

"No, because people steal and I would rather not have to hunt the brave soul who took it," he slickly answered. The promise of malice in his voice was not missed. Those butterflies evolved into bunnies that were hopping around and having a whole romp.

"And you're not worried about them stealing your motorbike as well?" inquired Hermione stupidly. Too bad she didn't recognize how stupid that was until after the words left her.

"It wasn't a stupid question, it can very well be stolen without my keys. Though, it would take a lot of time and I'd find out." Biker man smirked at her as if he bloody knew that he made reading her mind look elementary. Not only was he mysterious and shadowy, he was cocky as well. And he could read people. Hermione was certain this man had spawned from one of her smutty novels.

"What would happen if you found out they were attempting to steal it?" The girl couldn't help it. Curiosity got the better of her. Coincidentally, that same thing almost killed the cat. Hopefully Biker Man didn't think she was a cat.

Verdant orbs went black for a split second as a wide grin bared the shadow's pearly white teeth to her. "I'd put the fear of God into them so they never do it again." A sinful wink followed that promise and Hermione felt something coiling just below her belly. The baby blue cardigan she was wearing over her candy pink dress felt like a straitjacket now. "I'll be browsing around now, ma'am. I'll let you get back to your work."

Work was an afterthought for Hermione. Surely, he could read that from her. Work was boring. So bloody boring. She hoped she wasn't being an idiot but there was something about Biker Man's darkness that made her feel safe around him. A dozen murder victims probably had that same thought before her, however.

Still, he had not killed her yet. That was a good sign. Had she really fallen that far to consider someone not attempting to kill her a good sign? Probably. Did she care? No. This dark biker guy was something else. One of these days her love of all things mysterious and shadowy was going to do her in. Today was not that day.

A plan came to her. In order not to seem too nosy or desperate, Hermione gave her customer some time to find the aisles he was interested in and busied herself by exploring his helmet. She figured he wouldn't have too much of a problem with her peeking into the thing given the fact that he left it with her.

It was a heavy thing too. From the looks of it, it was perfectly safe and provided ample protection in case of an accident. Her Biker Man was intelligent enough to recognize that his safety mattered more than simply looking cool. Wait a second, her Biker Man?

The visor was tinted black, surprise surprise, and everything else was lined with the same color. Except for one thing. Engraved on the inner lining of the helmet were the initials 'H.J.P' in ruby red as well as a golden striped ball with wings on it. Next to those two was the word 'Seeker' embossed in gold. If she had to guess, H.J.P were most likely the initials to his name and Seeker was his nickname. What did H.J.P stand for? She just had to know.

Tucking the heavy helmet under arm, Hermione departed her counter and searched the store for her customer. It was, mercifully, not a long search as he was exploring the aisle on classical and ancient literature. A look of inquisitiveness and wonder had graced his features, like he was comfortable in her store. Like he was comfortable amongst books like she was. Ha, they had something in common.

"Have you found what you were looking for?" Biker Man turned to regard her with a shake of his head. "I completely forgot that I usually help my prospective buyers find their perfect book." That was a lie but he didn't need to know that. Only when people asked for help did she step in. This time, however, she wanted to step in for her sake.

"It's no problem. Yeah, I don't know what I want. I need something to keep me busy when I'm on the road." His curious eyes raked over the shelf that housed ancient literature from Homer, Dante, and others.

"Do you travel a lot?" Hermione asked, walking over to stand just beside his tall figure.

Her own height was somewhere around five foot five and he dwarfed her. If anything, he looked just over six feet. Probably two inches give or take. The size difference made the bunnies frolic around even faster in her belly.

"Not anymore than the average biker does. I'm around and about different places from time to time," he continued to her. Score one for Hermione Jane Granger. She was having a pleasant conversation with Biker Man and he was not bothered by it.

"Sounds like quite the lifestyle," the girl commented lightly. It was not appealing to her because of how much of a homebody she was but something about H.J.P made it seem suddenly better.

"It can be. Other times, it's a little stressful," he replied, giving her an opening to stretch the conversation out.

"Oh? How so? I'd imagine most of the stress comes from planning out the journey and times, no?" All the while she spoke, her eyes caught him becoming fixated on a copy of The Odyssey by Homer. A story about a man trying to get home, how fitting. She hoped Biker Man was not like Odysseus, though. For her own personal reasons, of course.

The man hummed his agreement lowly and it sounded like music of a very unique genre. One that could only be described as a feeling that invoked safety in the shadows. "That, shepherding my crew, pulling them out of whatever bar or woman they spent the night in, and slapping sense into them," he quipped charmingly.

So maybe he was like Odysseus. His crew certainly got around in more ways than one from the looks of it. Did he? It wasn't any of her business as to what he did in his personal life but it stung her to know that he and his crew treated women like her as nothing more than objects of sexual gratification.

"I don't sleep around, by the way. I can almost feel you judging me, Hermione," Biker Man teased, using her real name. Was it just her or did he make her name sound like it was coated in pure sex? Wait, the girl wondered how he knew it in the first place. "Your nametag, ma'am. It's on your left breast." Right. Arghhh, she was so flustered by him. "I hope I didn't overstep by using your real name. I think it's very…nice. It's Greek, right?"

Nodding tentatively as goosebumps erupted over her whole body, Hermione told him, "It is but my mum got the inspiration from Shakespeare. It's from…"

"…The Winter's Tale?" Those damned hypnotizing eyes had met hers. The urge to drown herself in them had her in a stranglehold but she had to resist. Had to. "That's a shame," that drew her intrigue and made her forget about those pools of emerald green momentarily, "it would be a better story for you to be named after the daughter of the face that launched a thousand ships."

Knowledgeable in Shakespeare and Greek Mythology. Bloody hell. This was the man of her dreams. He was heaven sent. Or maybe sent from somewhere else. His entire appearance spoke of anything but heaven. It spoke of wicked promises and sinful intentions. And despite all of that, the coiling in her lower tummy turned up to an eleven.

"Though, I reckon you should have been named Helen. Then again, Hermione's a pretty name in its own right." She had to do a double take. He had just called her beautiful, right? It was subtle and would not appear to anyone who didn't know but she was sure that Biker Man equated her to Helen of Troy, the possible most beautiful woman in history.

"Yes, well…" she had nothing else to say and averted her eyes back to the shelves. Hopefully the lights hid some of the dark pink tint on her cheeks.

It didn't. Hermione knew it right away. Her customer saw her blush as clear as day. At least he didn't say anything. From a sideways glance, she observed him finally settling on picking up Homer's magnum opus. That gave her another opening and she snatched it up like a hungry crocodile.

"The Odyssey? Have you read it before? I'm assuming you have given your knowledge of Mythology," she commented as he ran his fingers over the spine of the book in gentle drags. Was it possible to be attracted to long and thick fingers? With well cared for nails and not a hint of blemishes on his skin?

His fingers caressed the book reverently as he tilted his head toward her, an easygoing grin across his lips. "I have. Once, in uni before I dropped out. I think the story suits me a little, don't you?"

"Well, it is about a man trying to get home after all," noted Hermione.

"Nah, my bike is my home. The whole of Britain is my home. I was thinking about all of the challenges he had to face and conquer which he did rather well in my opinion."

God, he was willing to have an academic discussion with her on Odysseus. There was no intention behind his statement but they ended up spitting fire onto her heated skin, lapping at her and stoking the flames of something she felt late at night when the only company she had was one of her spicy novels.

Hermione had to face the challenge of fending off that new but oh so familiar feeling which she managed to do just barely. "Would you like to pay for this now? Or do you want to shop around?"

Oh God, oh God, oh God, he was moving closer to her. Oxygen promptly shuffled out of the store again as the tall frame of Biker Man loomed over her and pulled her into the shadows surrounding him. She couldn't faint. She couldn't faint. Not now. Be strong, Hermione, she pleaded mentally.

"I think I'll pay for it now and be out of your hair." Shit. That old familiar feeling got so much worse just like that. Now instead of just having that coiling feeling, there was that dampness in her…lower…regions in the space between her thighs.

Robotically, the girl turned away from Biker Man and began her way back to the register. The dampness was not ceasing, however, because he was following her with footsteps sounding through the quiet store despite him walking on plush carpet. She could hear the fibers of the carpet bend and strain under his boots as he tailed her. Even that made her antsy. None of her novels were going to be needed tonight, that was for sure.

"Do you want me to stamp something behind the cover? A piece of writing perhaps? Or maybe your name?" Yeah, Christmas miracles were definitely real. This was the second time one came through for her and allowed her to speak coherently.

He leant over the counter but took care not to invade her personal space. His lips curled up with mirth behind his eyes. "How about your name and today's date? I'd like to be reminded where I got this from." Hermione's heart stopped and proceeded to do backflips instead of pumping the blood she so desperately needed to keep her from going lightheaded. "You could put the store's name if you want but I like your name more."

Oh, she was definitely going to put her name. It would be a way for her Biker Man to carry a piece of her with him when he was riding around Britain. If tonight was all she got from him, then she was going to leave her mark on him. A wave of sadness hit her at that thought. After tonight, she most likely would never see him again. He would probably forget about her as he traveled the country and would find someone else who was far more pretty and deserving of his attention.

"Ma'am, did I offend you?" She hadn't even realized she was wearing her heartbreak like a detailed mask. He must have noticed it and his voice was so soft now. So easily he went from imposing to caring.

"You didn't, Mister…" she left the statement there, realizing she still didn't know his name. Only his initials but not what they stood for.

"Harry, Harry Potter. Please just call me Harry." There was H and P. What did J stand for? But before she could muse on that, Hermione found that she liked Biker Man's name. It suited him just like he claimed hers did. Harry. It was cute but refined just like him. It told her of a boy who was brave and had no trouble making friends that grew into an adult who was born to lead.

"You didn't offend me, Harry," said Hermione as she resoundingly stamped her name and the date onto the back of the book's cover. There. Her mark. Whenever Harry read this book, he was surely going to think of her. That would be enough. "All finished," she added fake cheerfully, knowing their interaction was at an end.

All she wanted to do now was go home. Taking a glance up at the clock, Hermione found it saying that it was just past eleven. She owned the store and decided her hours but the girl kept a strict schedule to avoid bad habits. Eleven o'clock was closing time. Home and her bed were beckoning. Tomorrow, Harry the Biker Man would be long gone and she would move on.

"Thanks a lot, ma'am. I'll be sure to cherish this copy for the rest of my life," he winked at her again to send her heart growing dove's wings, "you were brilliant." His praise had a certain je ne sai quoi about it. Totally indescribable. What could be described, though, was the wetness soaking her knickers. Those three words of praise washed over her like the flames of erotica.

"Hopefully I'll see you again, Harry the Biker Man." His smile widened considerably and a melodious giggle left her. He appreciated her attempt at humor. What little humor she had anyway. "I have to close up now. My day has ended sadly."

"Oh, you go home by yourself this late at night?" He questioned, looking worried now. If he wasn't so damned handsome and looked like sex on a stick, Hermione would be offended that he thought her incapable of protecting herself.

Hermione's expression was soft but no less firm. "I can protect myself, Harry. It's only a short tube ride and a little bit of a walk home." She shot him a kind smile afterward.

The next words out of his mouth had her doing another double take. "Let me take you home tonight. As a favour."

"What?" Surely, he wasn't being serious. Even if he was, Hermione reminded herself that her Biker Man was a stranger still. What if it was all an elaborate plan to murder her? The girl met his eyes with her own and found that, one, he was being serious, and two, he was not going to murder her. "Are you sure? I can surely take the tube, it's no problem."

"Yes, but you have a ready, willing, and able customer who'll gladly take you home." Gosh. Harry was so cute. Those marvelous orbs were imploring her. They sported none of the darkness she saw in them and were now nothing more than puppy dog eyes. Puppy dog eyes for her. Because he wanted to make sure she was safe.

"I've never ridden a motorcycle before," Hermione breathed to him. The thought of hugging from behind and pressing herself into his body as his bike roared from under her was…intriguing. Faint little pulses shook the spot between her thighs. "And I don't have a helmet for safety so you'll be without one if you give me yours. I'm not worth it. I'll be safe, Harry. I promise."

Something she said was definitely wrong. It had to be because Harry was no longer Harry now. He was the mysterious biker guy who entered her store. And worse, or maybe not worse, he was approaching her steadily with intent. Soon, Hermione found herself trapped between the wooden counter and her Biker Man.

"Never say those words again. You are worth it. To me, right now, you are worth it. I'll take you back to your home." She was losing her mind. Head empty. No thoughts. Just the feel of warmth from his body heat rolling over her. Just the way he loomed over to take her mind and soul. "Say it, Hermione. I want to hear you say you're worth it." Even if she did agree to go on his motorcycle, which she got the feeling she was, there was surely going to be a wet spot left on her seat once they arrived home.

The demand from him did not go unnoticed and Hermione just knew she couldn't disobey. If she did, Harry was going to be displeased. And she didn't want that. "I am worth it."

Only the sound of her hitched gasp played in the bookstore as his rough hand went up to her cheek. He definitely was invading her personal space now but she wanted him to. She bloody needed him to. Hermione's drunken and pleasured sigh unwittingly escaped her when his thumb caressed her soft skin.

"Say it again, Hermione. Louder this time," he ordered. The previous softness and concern in his voice was a distant memory. It probably never even happened.

The girl obeyed again because she was powerless not to. His voice hid the promise of punishment for failure to obey behind him and she did not want to feel that. Or maybe she did. How would he punish her? Never mind. "I am worth it," she repeated, louder like he asked her to but no less breathless.

"Good. You're brilliant." The words and his voice put her into a world of sexual bliss. The praise created a waterfall in that special spot. "Good girl. Now get your stuff and put on my helmet." Nodding, Hermione went to do as he asked only for him to hold her still with his hand on her chin. It wasn't at all forceful. In fact, she somehow felt safe. "I want to hear your pretty voice, Hermione."

"Yes, Harry." If she was in bed with him and he was having his way with her, those words would have sounded the exact same the way she said them.

After packing up her supplies and slinging her purse over, Hermione went to put on the helmet. It was way too large and would make her look like a bobblehead toy but it was for her safety. Her Biker Man would rather endanger his life than hers. Dear Goodness.

All thoughts erased themselves again as he stood behind her and lifted her hair up to bare the nape of her neck to the slightly chilly air. That wasn't what made her shiver, though. It was his fingers. They were tangling in her hair and treading so close to her suddenly hypersensitive skin. She slid the helmet down, not even caring how comical it looked on her, and turned to face him through the surprisingly clear visor. The black tint on it must have only gone one way.

"Good girl." Again he said those words and again her center quivered. Her dress and tights were not going to be enough to soak up her arousal. "Do you feel safe?"

She went to nod again but was reminded of his earlier stipulation. "Yes, Harry." There was no lie told. She did feel safe, both with the helmet on and with him.

"The bike is parked right at the front of the store. Walk out, I'll be right behind you," he commanded again. Her legs went ahead and began moving at his wish. Thank goodness they did because her brain definitely couldn't tell them to.

Like he said, the machine was right where she expected it to be. It was a huge thing too. Was everything Harry owned huge? It didn't look at all like one of those fancy street bikes. She didn't quite know how to say it but the bike looked…naked. The machinery and engine were not hidden at all and it appeared to support the rider being able to sit up and ride instead of leaning over to hold the handlebars.

"Hop on."

———

Hermione did not expect her desire to be exacerbated as she sat atop Harry's bike. She thought it was a constant thing, that her desire would remain at a manageable level through the ride. But being pressed against her Biker Man and feeling the bike rumble beneath her sent pleasurable shivers through her whole body and had her core tightening around nothing. The girl was trying her best to stave it off but something embarrassing was well on its way to happening.

"Where will you go after taking me home?" She tried to strike up conversation as they waited at a traffic light. Those damn things were taking forever. The less time she spent on the bike, the less aroused she would be.

"With my crew," Harry answered over his shoulder.

"And where are they?" Hermione questioned again, trying not to grind her center into the seat. Not that that would help anyway since the bike's rumbling was doing more than enough.

"I'll tell you in the morning." The fog of desire left her for a moment to be replaced by confusion. How would Harry tell her that in the morning? She hadn't even given him her telephone number.

That confusion would not be satisfied as the light changed at the exact moment she went to voice it. He took off again, making her wrap her arms tightly around his body and press her head into his back. "Please, please, please," she whispered to herself. The helmet felt like an echo chamber and she heard the words over and over again; her begging for her desire not to peak and crash over her.

Harry traversed the streets too easily, having only needed one look at his map after she told him where her flat was. She guessed he must have ridden through them dozens, if not hundreds, of times. That only made him more sexy. Made the nighttime ride with him that much more steamy.

All hope to stave off that embarrassing moment was lost as Harry kicked up the speed. The bike roared from under her and vibrated even more. Shockwaves erupted from her center and spread through her body like wildfire. Need filled Hermione. Untainted sexual need. Her thighs would not listen to her mind's commands as they ground themselves into the leather seat, pressing her center harder into it to feel the rumble beneath her.

They were only minutes away from her house because the neighborhood was starting to look familiar to her but another traffic light stood in their path. The girl prayed to every deity that ever existed for Harry to beat it but it didn't happen. It turned red and he was forced to pull to a stop, leaving her to fight a losing battle.

What was happening to her? She had sex before. Her partners had gotten her to finish some of those times. Not all the times sadly and the two who did manage needed excessive guidance. This was wild. How was she so turned on and Harry hadn't even taken her?

Oh God no. What was he doing? A ghostly touch of her Biker Man's fingers ran up her shin to her knee. And the light was NOT changing. She couldn't take much more. Not with the hot rumbles of the motorcycle underneath her, not with her arousal at a fever pitch, and not with him touching her leg with his fingers burning through the tights she wore.

When his hand left her, she really thought that was it from him. Nope. It was not even close. What happened next did her in. He throttled the bike, revving it up, and it went straight to her core.

It came quick. Gave her no chance to react. And shattered her. The hardened peaks on her breasts tightened like bowstrings as her center clenched around nothing and a slow dragged out husky moan left her. She was over the edge, having fallen off the cliff. There was absolutely zero way Harry didn't hear that. And if he didn't, the puddle left on his soft leather seat would tell him what happened.

Everything else was a haze for her as they arrived at the front facade of her flat. Harry parked the bike in a secluded enough corner and conveniently found an old discarded cover to drape over it. While he did that, Hermione chewed on her lip inside the helmet and waited for him to finish so she could apologize for the wet spot she knew he saw.

"I'm sorry…" Hermione meekly began but quickly drowned out her words with a yelp as he lifted her into his arms, his large hands palming her arse cheeks as he bruised his lips against her upper chest. "Ohhhh, dear God." His hands were massaging the soft flesh of her rear while he walked them to her front door.

"Helmet off. Now." The poor thing came off immediately because of how loose it fitted on her and she kept a tight grasp on it after her arms went around his neck. Split second later, Harry was kissing her. It was more like devouring her. Like he was trying to eat her from the inside out and suck out her soul. It was stealing all of the air from her lungs.

Imagine if her neighbours saw her as she was now. It was late at night, thank goodness, and she was pressed up against her door like a strumpet practically shagging a strange man. Hermione didn't even care. Didn't care as he slid her lower until his crotch rested against her yearning and he started grinding into it. Yes, yes, yes.

Harry overpowered her tongue and let her moan into his mouth for a long minute until he forcefully pulled them apart, dodging her attempt to seal her lips over him again. "Open your door, Hermione." That voice again. The one that was all shadowy and dark. The one that promised wicked things and sinful punishments should she disobey.

On her feet, shakily so, Hermione fumbled through her purse hurriedly to find her keys before turning her back to Harry. His breathing was stiff and shallow behind her, as if he was trying to rein himself in. It only made her more weak and wet. She was trying to get the key into the hole but her motor skills had departed her. Maybe she got it halfway in before it became stuck and she had to do it all over again.

It was taking too long, she knew, and her Biker Man grew impatient. Large hands were on her shoulders to anchor her as he pressed his body into her from behind, his chin on her head. "Take your time, love. I'm in no rush." With that, the key finally worked and the door came unlocked.

Both of his hands slipped from her shoulder and one of them went to pat her bum lightly, beckoning her in. His touch didn't leave it afterward either and maintained a possessive hold over the soft flesh. Only after she stepped inside and approached the coat rack did it leave her and she missed it immediately.

Turning back, she watched as Harry kicked the door shut and made sure his gaze didn't leave her when he did so. That was hot. All he did was close the door and Hermione was hot and bothered yet again.

The promise behind that act was probably what got her. The promise that he was going to spend the night with her. So that was what he meant when he said he would tell her where his crew was in the morning, she realized. He had fully intended on spending the night with her. Promises, promises.

Nostrils flared and lips parting just barely to get what little air she could manage, Hermione stood in place as Harry approached her like the predator he was. The promises behind his viridescent orbs told her that it was going to be a long night. He came to her, only a bare centimetre separating their bodies. His thumb and forefinger cupped her chin and brought her face up to his.

"Tell me that you want it, Hermione. I can't do anything if I don't know you want this," he told her, voice begging for her to say that she wanted this. Whatever this was.

Her mouth fell open and her mind guided her to say the truthful words that she knew would change everything with her Biker Man. "I want you." Harry pulled in a sharp breath, eyes flashing dangerously like green lightning.

His thumb slid up from her chin to walk over her lips. Subconsciously, she pulled it into her mouth and sucked lightly. Only after he growled at her did she realize how naughty that was. She loved it.

"I don't just have sex, Hermione. I take," his head bent closer to let his mouth rest near her right ear, "I get what I want and I do what I want. And what I want right now is to fuck you so hard and so much that you'll be thinking of me until you die." Hermione whimpered. That darkness she was fond of had taken hold of Harry and now it was possessing him to pull her deeper into it. She shouldn't have been able to need someone as much as she needed him right now. "Tell me no and I'll leave, Hermione. I can't be gentle with you. I don't want to be gentle with you."

"I want you," repeated Hermione. All she knew was him. All she needed was him. In whatever way he would take her.

"Then you'll do as I say like my good girl and I'll reward you," Harry dictated.

Forgetting herself, Hermione nodded. Until his expression morphed to displeasure, she hadn't realized she needed to use her voice. "Yes, Harry."

"Next time, I won't be this lenient. Turn around." The man screamed authority. He screamed that disobedience or ignorance would not be tolerated without even raising his voice. She did as was told and, not a moment later, did his palm come down with resounding force on her arse. Hermione squeaked and yelped at the pleasure-pain from the spanking. "If you don't listen, I'll have to keep doing that."

"Yes, Harry." The world blurred for a second when he spun her around at blinding speed and slammed his lips onto hers, sealing them together while lifting her up again. Jet black silky locks felt wonderful under her touch as he kissed her heatedly. He was consuming her. She was sure after tonight that her body and soul would belong to Harry J. Potter.

They broke apart again and she groaned frustratedly at the absence of his sweet lips. It pulled a little chuckle from him before he nuzzled his nose with hers. "I need you to pick a word, no more than two syllables. Think of the first word that comes to mind."

"Why?" Harry's eyes darkened momentarily, warning her. If he gave her a command, she had to obey. No questions asked. Hermione thought of the first word that came to mind. "Bikes." He was happy with her after that. Alcohol or drugs couldn't recreate this high. His lips found her cheek again and they turned up against the skin.

"If what I'm doing gets to be too much for you, you say that word and I stop. Okay?" He murmured into her skin and sprinkled kisses all over whatever spot his lips could reach. "The last thing I want to do is hurt you. I'll get what I want but make no mistake, Hermione, you're the most important thing here. You're worth it."

Through the haze of desire, his words hit a special place in her heart and drew a low sob from her. She tried to contain it and not seem like a total emotional wreck but how couldn't she feel so damn cherished and appreciated after that? And then he started to kiss the tears away. It was impossible for her not to feel loved and so damn safe.

"What are you going to do with me?" She whispered her question, unsure of whether or not she should be asking it to him without express permission.

Harry didn't mind the inquiry as he walked with her to her small kitchenette and placed her on the counter. Her legs spread open of their own accord for him to stand between them while her arms never left their position encircling his neck. His gaze was smoldering behind vibrant verdant eyes anyone would kill for and above wet kiss swollen lips.

"You'll be mine for tonight," he leant closer to her again and burrowed his stubbled cheek into her neck, "mine to take, mine to use, mine to fuck." The entire time he spoke, his lips were trailing over the skin and his hand had found her breast, taking an unwilling breathless moan from her. "And if you're a good girl, you'll get to come. By the time I'm done, you'll never forget tonight."

He wasn't at all being braggadocious or arrogant about his prowess in bed. It didn't feel like that to her. Hermione knew her Biker Man wouldn't lie to her and was guaranteeing her everything he just said. She believed his words, somehow trusted him more than anyone not named her parents even though she met him only an hour ago.

The hand that was previously palming her breast snaked back up to her cheek and his thumb brushed over her lips. She dutifully did it again, pulling his thumb between her lips and sucking on it until her cheeks hollowed out. Harry groaned at that and the power she felt had her thinking she was indomitable. "My good girl," it was her turn to let out a needy sound at the praise, "you like this?" She swirled her tongue around him in response, making him hiss.

In an instant, he had spun her off the counter and reversed their positions. Now, he was the one leaning against it with her on her feet staring lustily up at him, thumb still in her mouth. "Get on your knees for me, sweetheart," he rasped, sounding like he was parched.

Because she was his good girl, Hermione fell to her knees easily without complaint. Despite never having performed what she knew was coming on any of her partners, her books had provided enough details on what to do. And she wanted to do it. Wanted to have her dark Biker Man fall apart over her. Eagerly, she reached up to unbuckle his belt and jeans. Only one thing was in her mind.

"Excited, aren't you?" He petted her hair and twirled a ringlet around his pointer finger, low chuckles leaving him as she worked on his pants. When the jeans slipped open and she finally saw the imprint of his bulge on his boxer shorts, another unwitting moan left her. He was so big, so thick. "Suck my cock, kitten." The added nickname at the end came out in a whisper and she couldn't deny him anymore than she could deny herself air.

His cock sprang free when she pulled the underpants down and Hermione found herself staring fearfully at it. How was that going to fit when he eventually took her? It would be so painful. Loving hand stroking her neck and throat brought her attention back to Harry. "We'll make it fit. Don't worry about that right now." Goodness, he had read her mind again. That was too easy for him.

Desire overtook him again and his hand became more imposing as it pulled her closer to the tip of his cock. The girl startled when a bead of what she knew to be precum slipped out from the slit. Reflexively, her tongue darted out to moisten her lips. He was pulsing and twitching ever so often, somehow getting more hard. He looked delicious.

"Hermione," Harry warned to get her out of her blatant admiration of his cock. It kicked her into action and she encased the head in between her lips, swirling her tongue around the precum and getting her first taste of Biker Man. "Yessss, good girl." Had her mouth not been occupied, she would have smiled joyfully at the praise.

Her books proved to be the best teachers as Hermione moved lower, taking as much of him into her mouth as she could without gagging. Then, her tongue licked the underside of him as she sucked deeply.

Cheeks hollowed out and lips needily pulled at his cock. The thick vein and ridges on the underside of his cock rolled over her tongue, making her moan at the thought of feeling them inside her. She knew the sound sent pleasurable vibrations through him because of the husky groan that left his throat.

She felt her curls knotting around his fingers to steady himself. He was trying his best not to be forceful with her but a lascivious thought crossed Hermione's mind. Harry had to lose control. Flicking a lusty look up at him through her hooded amber eyes, the girl pulled back until only the tip of his cock rested on her lips.

"Fuck, you're so good, babe." Hermione's lips curled up before she blew a faint breath onto the dark pink head of his cock. Her Biker Man shivered and the motion went straight to her core, sending a stream of wetness to ruin her knickers even more.

She kissed the tip again and darted her tongue out to lap at it, just enough to drive him nuts. Then, like one of the female leads in her spicy novels, she brought her hand into play and cupped his balls underneath to massage them. "Shit, where'd you learn that?" Harry hissed again and became insensate with pleasure when she squeezed them lightly and then lifted his cock from her lips to slide her tongue over the underside.

He tasted so good. His hygiene must have been on point and so was his diet. By no means was she an expert in doing this sort of thing but she was a quick learner and was eager. Hermione knew she would only be eager to do this with Harry. No one else could get this from her.

After stroking him against her lips, Hermione dove back in with aplomb for another taste. Her hand covered the length she couldn't take with her mouth and still he was reaching the back of her throat. She willed her gag reflex not to work because she just had to do this to him.

"Close…babe," he ground out to her. He attempted to pull her off of him, most likely thinking she didn't want him to finish in her mouth, and Hermione batted him away. Using her hands, she pushed his thighs back and went up to cup his arse as she sucked his cock.

She worked him over and over again, moving fast as she pulled off his length and sank down onto it repeatedly. When the first signs of his orgasm came, Hermione pulled back until just his tip was in her mouth and lovingly caressed it with her tongue in circles before sucking it deeply to draw his climax.

"Fuckkkk…" whatever else he had to say was lost in the sea of almost exhausted moans and whimpers as she took him all the way in her throat again. He filled her up afterward, cum splashing down her throat as he came titanically.

And she swallowed it all. Not even daring to waste a drop of his essence.

It became too much for Harry to take after that. His control snapped and he pulled her to her feet, wrapping an arm around behind her knees to lift her up as their lips met again and his tongue darted into her mouth to taste the remnants of him. It left her in a state of sexual bliss again and she was lost in the space between reality and paradise. They broke apart and Harry pulled her bottom lip between his teeth to send shockwaves of pain and pleasure rippling through her.

"I'm going to ruin you."

Chapter 2: Dark Desire

Chapter Text

The very first thing Harry imagined when he saw Hermione was how good her dark chocolate eyes would look when she was on her knees staring up at him with his cock down her throat. After some playful flirting, that imagination turned to reality. Barely even an hour after they met, he got to see her sucking his cock and enjoying it like it was the best treat in the world.

Obsessed wasn't even the word to describe him when he first stepped into Hermione's bookstore. Unlike his crew, particularly Ron and Seamus, Harry didn't attempt to sleep around or have himself a myriad of women. He had two serious relationships and had been single ever since. But when he saw the adorable bookstore owner, the raging fires of lust raised within him.

That dark voice in the back of his head kept reminding him. He had to have her. He had to take her. He had to ruin her. After she told him she was on the pill, he was ready to obey that same voice.

Now, he was going to do just that. After walking her back to her bed and peeling his shirt and jeans off, Harry was going to watch his good girl strip for him. She had a little study in her bedroom and he took the chair as his seat, cock hanging out of the slit in his boxers for her to see. The little minx licked her lips and fidgeted with arousal as she lavished attention over his lengthy pride.

"How are you still hard?" Her voice was still so innocent and meek even after what she just did to him in her kitchenette. It only made him want her more. He was going to steal every last trace of innocence from her. That was who he was tonight. A thief.

Harry's darkened stare trailed over her cute outfit. She had on her black tights under her bubblegum pink dress with a light blue sweater thrown over it. The outfit was sweet and innocent just like her. He wanted to see her take it off for him. Wanted to watch her prepare herself for him to fuck her so hard that she wouldn't remember her name and her pussy would ache each time she remembered this night.

"Because of you, Hermione. I can't get enough of you." His teeth gleamed in the darkness of her bedroom and his good girl shivered at the sight of them. Her fingers tugged at the hem of her dress and she watched him through hooded eyes, awaiting his command. "You want to be a good girl, right?"

Hermione nodded again. She was new to this arrangement and he couldn't fault her but that didn't mean punishment wouldn't be swift. "What did I tell you, Hermione?" He transformed himself into something akin to an instructor with that question.

"That you wanted to hear my voice, Harry," she answered quietly, finally realizing where she went wrong and looking ashamed. No, that wouldn't do. Punishment was for both of their pleasures and not at all meant to make her feel less of herself. "I'm sorry."

"Come." She moved purposefully but her countenance showed a mixture of fear and desire. Perfect. "Never feel ashamed for making a mistake. This arrangement isn't to make you feel like you're weak or worth nothing. Your mistake has already been forgiven." Harry patted his thigh in a clear motion for her to sit which she did right away. She was so light, so delicate. He wanted to fuck her apart. Ruin that exquisite delicateness. "But I still have to punish you. You'll be my good girl and take it right?"

"Yes, Harry." Her plump and glossed lip was worried between her teeth afterward but he knew what he was seeing. She wanted to be punished. The innocent bookstore owner was not so innocent after all.

"Strip for me, Hermione. I want to see you," ordered Harry. He coaxed her off his thigh and noticed the wet spot she left on it. His greed was unabashed as he dabbed over the wetness with a finger and brought it to his lips. Delicious. Sweet like forbidden fruit.

Flicking the lamp switch on, Harry relaxed in his chair and adjusted his cock. It flexed and twitched needily but he ignored it in favour of watching his little kitten. She, however, was still staring at the length with unadulterated hunger. She hadn't begun to remove her clothes and his face changed to show his reproach. That spurred her into action.

The baby blue sweater was the first to go. Hermione tentatively pulled the cozy item off and bared the creamy and buttery smooth skin of her shoulders and arms to him. By no means was he a novice in sex but this woman had him threatening to burst at the seams like some inexperienced teenager. He only saw bits and pieces of her body and he was fucking losing it.

There was a pause in her actions when she looked at him expectantly. He knew what she wanted. Praise. Had a bit of a praise kink, did she? Or maybe she wasn't sure about her beauty. Whoever the hell were her previous partners were going to pay dearly for making this woman think she was anything but beautiful.

"You're beautiful, Hermione. Gorgeous," said Harry, truthful. Happiness flitted by her face. So adorable. His good girl. The voice in the dark side of his head reared its head again. He wouldn't be gentle with her. Couldn't. "Go on, babe. I want to see all of you."

His words were followed to the letter as she went to remove her tights under the dress. The swing of his gaze followed and traced every movement, watching her lift the hem of her dress before hooking her fingers over the waistband of her pants, and then falling down with them as they pulled it down to reveal inch after sexy inch of her thighs and legs.

"Fuck, babe," Harry breathed. Images of those legs spread wide to permit his cock entry to her pussy played like a movie in his head. Vivid imaginations of those thighs wrapped around his waist as he rammed himself deep into her had him weak. Then, his eyes caught sight of the white cotton of her panties. She had removed those too.

All sense of control lost, Harry crooked his finger at the garment. "Bring them to me, Hermione." In spite of her shyness, the little minx did as was told and brought her knickers to him. The blasted things were ruined. Sodden from her desire. They were damn near see through with how much they had been soaked. And the smell, ohhhh, the smell.

"How long have you been like this?" He had his suspicions when she started to grow wet with desire for him but it would be loads better to hear it from her sweet innocent mouth.

"S—since the bookstore," she tremulously answered.

A smirk came across his lips. Very rarely was he wrong and this was not one of those times. He had his suspicions about her arousal while he was in the store with her but this was the total proof. Little Miss Innocent Bookstore Owner had been drenched just from talking to him.

Keeping his jade eyes on her, Harry brought the cotton panties to his face and buried his nose into it. Damn. So damn sweet. She smelled like dessert of the sweetest kind. And he loved dessert. He breathed in her scent, almost tasting the cinnamon and honey of her arousal, watching as her mouth fell open while her nipples hardened under her dress. She wasn't wearing a bra and the peaks of those delectable delicacies made his mouth water.

"You've been a bad girl tonight, Hermione." No bra, soaked since he had been talking to her, fucking herself to orgasm on his bike when they rode home, and then sucking his cock like it was the best thing she could ever do in her life. Her sins tonight were numerous.

"Are you going to punish me?"

Harry took another whiff of her aroma and discarded the piece of clothing before he rose to his full height. Towering over her and casting her in his shadow, he nodded his affirmation stiffly. "Lift your arms." The command was tinged with the darkness that now consumed him.

He loved when she obeyed him without question. She was so dutiful, so malleable. She would bend and break for him at his command. Hermione held her arms above her head as he bent to lift her dress. Low grinding like his boots walking on gravel sounded from his throat when more and more of her scrumptious body was shown to him.

Da Vinci and any other painter before and after him had nothing on the artwork in front of Harry. Breasts full and perky, just perfect to fit into his hand. Dusky and rosy nipples adorned the mounds of flesh, hardened and begging for his mouth to be upon them. Soon. His eyes went lower, down to her flat tummy, to her midriff, and finally to her mouthwatering and dripping pussy. He was going to have to restrain himself. Punishment was first.

His voice was not his own. It was of the wicked creature that lurked in his head. "On your bed, now. On your hands and knees facing the wall." His good girl turned to obey and he just couldn't resist swatting her arse. Her little yelp and squeak painted a cruel smile on his face. There was more where that came from. "You remember your word for if it gets to be too much?"

"Yes, Harry." Good, she didn't nod again. Maybe he would be a little lenient on account of how fast and eager a learner she was.

"Remember, this is not to hurt you. If it even begins to hurt or make you feel badly, you say the word and I stop. Otherwise…" he cut the statement and left the suggestion open to her imagination.

"Yes, Harry." Normally, he would have had her call him 'sir' or even 'daddy' like one of his exes did but there was something about his name falling from Hermione's lips that sounded better than even the best music.

"Count for me." Her confusion was visible even without seeing her face. Harry smirked again and raked his eyes over her bared pussy, watching the folds drip and spasm occasionally. It almost made him give up on punishment but, no, she had to learn. "You'll know soon enough."

Small sounds of fright escaped her when he forcefully dragged her to the edge of the bed by the waist. She weighed practically nothing to him and was so damn small. That size difference burnt a hole through his heart. The peach shaped bum in front of him, slightly pinkish from him spanking her, presented itself in glorious detail and he just had to bend his lips to it and press a little kiss on the soft flesh of its cheek.

Her pussy turned even wetter at that. Such a wanton good girl. That worked in her favour. "Count," Harry spanked her on the same cheek he just kissed, "after every one of this." Hermione whimpered at the slight pain but nevertheless started the count.

"One." Brilliant. The milky flesh on the cheek was intensely pinkened now.

Harry raised his palm again and resolved to be a little more gentle than usual. He brought it down smoothly, making contact with her arse again on the same spot where his handprint was starting to form.

"T—two," Hermione cried. Subtle shivers rolled over her entire body and that delicious little pussy pushed a stream of her juices out of her.

Another resounding clap echoed through the room when his palm swatted her bottom again. It made her fall forward on her elbows and her body arched downwards to present more of her arse to him. "Three." The count was muffled by her face being buried into the bed and Harry had to fight against the urge to get behind her and bury himself deep into her tightness. Not yet.

He swatted her again, easing into being more gentle but no less authoritative. Like he told her, spankings were not to hurt her. It wasn't even to make him feel powerful. It was to harden his cock and soak her pussy. That was it. Nothing else.

"F—F—Four." His poor little kitten. Harry made a face at himself for softening up and deciding to end her punishment at five spanks rather than ten. Her innocent and shaky voice did him in.

"Good girl, I'm so proud of you," he praised lowly. Flesh rolled and sunk under his hand when he caressed her before one last little swat sounded through the room and made Hermione cry out in a combination of rapture and pain.

"Five." No time was wasted by him when he pulled her up and spun her around to face him. Sitting back on his knees, Harry lifted her to straddle him and trap his cock between them while he assisted her in twining her arms around his neck. "Did I do good?" Oh hell, she was so unsure of herself and, yet, was sure about wanting to please him.

The dark monster retreated back into the recesses of his mind and allowed him to speak softer and tenderly at his precious kitten. "You did so well, kitten. So well, my good girl."

"I'm your good girl," she told him firmly despite her shivers. His large hands kneaded her shoulders and the pillowy skin of her back to warm her up. Her declaration turned his lips up and he gave her a soft chaste kiss on the lips.

"Yes. Yes, you are."

His kitten crushed their lips together again to kiss him like her life depended on it. He let her take everything she wanted from him and gave into her forceful tongue when it dominated him and snaked down his throat. And she started to grind herself on him, using the ridged underside of his cock for friction. Moaning into his mouth all the while.

And then, finally, she pulled back and said the two words that rendered him senseless into a creature of sexual desire and nothing else. "Ruin me."

In an instant, he had her laid down on the bed with him holding his frame above her on his forearms. She was so beautiful with chocolate brown orbs that were wide with desire and darkened with lust along with tasty pink lips that parted in a gasp when his raging cock laid on her tummy.

"I'm going to fuck you until you scream, babe," whispered Harry. The way it sounded made it seem like a threat but it was a warning. Even he was worried about him fitting inside her but he was too far gone and she had just begged him to ruin her. "Remember to use your safe word."

Hermione nodded vigorously under him and said, "Yes, Harry. Please."

He grasped his length underneath him, tugging on it to coax it into more hardness. After, he positioned it right at her entrance and rocked over her just to lubricate himself and tease her. "Please what, Hermione? Use your words, babe." His erection slid over her three times as he bent to suck on her sweet nipple. Every part of her tasted so good. He was going to have to get a taste of her pussy later.

"P—Please…please…ple…" she was so weak for him, so broken.

The enjoyment he was going to get from ruining her for anyone else was going to make his blood sing to the heavens. His cock dragged over her slit again, the underside pressing on her clit in faint pressure. Her hips bucked and rolled underneath him to try to push him into her.

Slick thumb padded over her cheek and pressed against her lips. "Come on, babe. Use your words. Let me hear those words out of your pretty mouth." He wasn't usually such a tease but this girl was too innocent. She needed to be changed. How many times had he said it already? She needed to be ruined. Harry notched the head of his cock right past her folds but didn't move, not even after an unholy moan flew past her lips.

"Fuck me. Ruin me. Please," his skin felt her hips undulate against it while she tried to pull him deeper into her yearning, "I want you…inside me…your cock…in MEEEE." She finished with a screech of the final word as he buried himself to the hilt inside her and threaded his fingers through her hair at the back of her head when he fell over her, his balls slapping against her arse because he could go no deeper.

No reprieve nor mercy was given as Harry kept to his promise. He just couldn't be gentle with her. Not when the tightest walls he ever fucked into incessantly suckled at his length. Her pussy was a fountain of her juices for him, allowing him to slide in easier and deeper. So wet for him. So needy for his cock.

Using the hand cupping her head, he roughly pressed her face into his shoulder while the other one pushed one of her thighs apart to let him slam into her. The music of her screams made him see stars behind his eyelids along with the silken caress of her clenching walls around his cock.

She arched into him and her breasts smushed with his chest, the nipples dragging across his taut skin. Harry couldn't stop himself from pounding harder into her and remaking her tightness to accept his size. The bed creaked and shook, the sounds bouncing off the room's walls as he fucked her into the mattress.

Just the thought of her struggling to sit and walk next morning was enough to make him piston into her pussy, hitting that special spot inside her while bottoming out. His stubbled cheek grazed against her own from their movements to add to the pleasure she was already feeling.

All he wanted to do was fuck her into submission. That thought drove his hips to crash against her with wicked force. Her pleasured yells turned into pitiful whimpers that hitched each time he withdrew and thrusted into her. Every time he hit bottom, a little squeak escaped her at the end of her moan. And she was still so wet and tight for him.

"Come on, babe," Harry egged her on. They hadn't talked about her wants and likes during sex but he loved talking his lover through their finish. The wet slapping of their skin picked up again while she moaned and cooed at him. "Yes, kitten. So good for me."

Her head fell back onto the pillow when his hand left it and started to thrash violently. "Ohhh, Harry," she moaned before a particularly hard thrust into her hot pussy stole another screech from her. The fact that she could even call his name during sex pissed him off. That couldn't happen.

It didn't seem possible but Harry drove his cock harder, faster, and deeper into a writhing Hermione. She rolled and thrashed under him before finally arching up into his body again, the room playing witness to the concert of her sounds of pleasure. He held her against him, hand sliding behind her neck while the other locked one of her wrists at their side.

"Scream for me, kitten," a devilish Harry whispered into her ear. That familiar dark creature controlled his body again, commanding him to do the things it wanted to do to her. A hot sweat broke out over him as his abdominal muscles contracted and his finish started to burgeon.

She had to come first. This was for his pleasure, yes. He was fucking her so brutally hard for himself, yes. But no way was he going to finish first. Fuck that.

Over the sounds of their hips meeting and her mangled mewls, Harry told Hermione, "Come on me, my good girl. Come all over my cock." His voice was surprisingly steady despite him hammering his cock balls deep into her luscious pussy. She was close, he knew it, and he delivered the final blow.

Reaching down, Harry's calloused hands found the smooth skin of her thighs and pushed them apart. He used them for leverage and slowed up his thrusts, electing to pull all the way out to the tip. Not even a second later, he rammed himself back into her suckling pussy, forcing her slick folds apart with the spear of his cock.

Two more deep thrusts later and Hermione was gone from the real world. Her ascent to the pleasurable paradise was marked by her howling long and hard into the night.

"FUCKKKKK," Harry roared at the ceiling when her pussy clamped down on his cock to keep him inside her as he came buckets. His balls constricted and churned out endless jets of his hot cum, filling her to the brim.

Hermione was a mess underneath him. Twitching and rambling nonsensically as her head rolled from side to side. The mixture of her slick and his steaming cum started to wash over his cock inside her and he pulled out, sitting back on his knees to watch her trembling pussy leak out their essence.

Throat rumbling, Harry let out an appreciative grunt when he saw it happen. The creamy and almost ivory white liquid of his cum pulsed out of her while her pussy lips folded and stretched around it. "My Hermione, my kitten," he fell over her again and took a firm grip around her throat, "my good girl." His tongue slithered out and licked a trail from her lips to her sweat laden cheeks, tugging a weaker moan from her.

This time he was going to be gentle, he decided. After the afterglow finished in record time, his cock had hardened once more and begged for him to sheathe it inside her warmth again. The night was still young and he had time. Lots of time. He'd fuck her until the morning dawned if she let him. Hopefully she would. He would take the all night workout from driving his cock deep into her pussy.

Harry notched his cock into her entrance again and pulled Hermione into a deep kiss. Sharp fingernails raked down his back and he would normally punish his lovers for doing that but with her, with her , he let her off easy. She was no longer in control of herself but had wrapped her legs around his waist and dug her heels into his bum to pull his length further inside her.

After how hard he fucked her, she still wanted more. Her innocence was well on the way to being ruined. She was lost in the throes of pleasure and still wanted his cock inside her for a second round.

Slowly and steadily, he stroked into her and ground their hips together. This time she wasn't screaming but was breathlessly moaning into his ear. Her arms slid up to lock around his neck and her legs fell back open once he was fully inside her.

This wasn't just fucking her anymore. Harry knew he was making love to Hermione. Knew he was being way more gentle and tender with her than any before her. It wasn't who he was but tonight, with her, he was willing to change that. Just nothing could be compared to her writhing and arching into him while her pussy clenched around his cock.

Shallow and grinding thrusts gave them both the chance to simply savour it all. They were together as a man and woman with nothing else between them. He had no desire to control her or dominate her this time. All he wanted was to bring her to orgasm again under him. For this round, he would forgo his usual habits.

The sounds of his cock meeting her pussy were squelching and wet. It was their combined essence that produced it. He felt like he was pushing the cum that was leaking from her back into her center as he thrusted in. Her walls and their warm cum had his cock feeling like it was in heaven.

Cupping her head to his shoulder again, Harry turned to nip at the shell of her ear and blew hot breaths into it. Hermione went crazy at that and he had to smirk. "Are you close, babe?" Sharp but otherwise forgiving teeth pulled her ear between them afterward; he never stopped his easy rhythm stroking into her. "I want to hear you, kitten."

After what felt like one long continuous moment of nothing but sex, another orgasm was ripped from Hermione with her silently screaming unabashedly. The utterly intense bliss of her sexual indulgence had taken her voice from her.

Pride washed over Harry when he saw her after pushing himself up off her body. The periwinkle hue casted by the moonlight gleamed off of her sweat soaked skin. Her chestnut shaded curls stuck to her forehead like a crown, befitting the princess she was. His little princess. He had so many nicknames for her already.

He hadn't yet finished and chased his own release with green eyes canvassing every detail of the woman taking his cock like she was made for it. Nothing like it. His innocent bookstore owner's face was blank and morphed into some kind of drunken pleasured mask. Thoughtless. That's what she was. Nothing was in her head except him and the feel of his cock parting her folds to drive home into her tightness.

Would he be selfish to give himself another orgasm when she was lying beneath him? He had already gotten two from her and she had gotten two in return. If he came again, he would outnumber her. That wouldn't be fair.

Two thick and wicked fingers slid down over body down to her pussy where his cock was still sheathing itself inside her. They found her swollen bud, the sensitive bundle of nerves that drove every woman wild, and strummed it like a guitar. Just like the instrument, it produced music in the form of strained mewls and keens.

Ever the multitasker, he continued playing with her clit while driving himself into her and maintaining deep eye contact. And then it happened. Hermione's dainty hand went up to cup his cheek as her lips formed a loving smile. That alone pushed him over the edge and he came for the third time that night.

The finish produced less of his cum than the last two times but was no less intense. Whites exploded behind his eyes and his brain had exploded into a starburst. He didn't know how but he heard Hermione gasp out her own release, her honeypot tightening around him in a vice grip while he emptied himself inside her.

They collapsed against each other and Harry hid his face in her bushy mane but made sure to expunge as much as his body heat to keep her warm. This night was everything he imagined and more. His cock was still nestled in her warmth but was beginning to finally soften before slipping out of her.

"I'm so sore," Hermione tiredly said underneath him, her voice sounding like the air of a ghostly wind.

Aftercare. Harry was reminded of what he considered the most important part of sex. He, as a dominant, had a responsibility to his submissives to take care of them after a session. And even though his body ached and he felt more tired after this session than any previous one, he would not forgo that responsibility. Especially because he couldn't do so with Hermione.

Wordlessly, Harry rolled them over to have her lying atop him before standing up with her cradled securely. He heard her confused sound and kissed the side of her head. "Don't ask any questions, kitten."

Whatever she was about to ask died in her throat. Her body unfolded and loosened its tension in his arms. Now, he was going to take sweet care of her.

———

Could someone fall in love with a person after one night of sex? Especially when the sex was good enough to make her see stars and memorable enough to carve out a permanent spot in her heart?

Hermione was afraid to answer that question. The reality of everything hit her. Harry was going to be gone into the wind with his crew in the morning and this was going to be nothing more than a one night stand. She had never done something like this before. All her previous sexual encounters had been during her relationships.

Tonight forced her to disregard that. Something about her Biker Man drew her to him and filled her with such wantonness that it would make even a succubus blush. The type of need she had for Harry and his amazing cock was hitherto undocumented. No woman, no person, should need anything like that.

It was over now, though. Her night of sexual relish was finished. Her mind saw fit to wonder if she would ever have a partner like Harry again? One who masterfully played her body like a pianist and wrenched orgasms from her at will. One who was willing to carry her to her bathtub/shower and sit with her inside it as the water filled the tub. One who would run his lips across her shoulder and the base of her neck like Harry was doing.

His lips paused in their ministrations and two demanding arms wrapped around her to pull her back against his hard chest. "Something's bothering you." It wasn't a question. More like an order for her to tell him through a gruff voice.

"When will you be leaving?" Hermione asked disguisedly to hide her true inquiry.

"You don't want me to leave." So much for the art of disguising her true intentions then. But again, how was she ever going to find someone who could measure up to this man?

Not trusting her voice to speak, Hermione nodded only to be reminded of his demands of her. As a matter of fact, she didn't care anymore. He had no right to make demands of her when he was literally going to leave her after their wonderful night together.

Maybe it wasn't wonderful for him.

It was probably just another night for him. He had said that he didn't sleep around but there was more than a chance that he had sex before. No one who did what he did to her was a virgin. No one. Maybe he didn't sleep around but he had to have had intense relationships. And maybe he only shared a one night stand with her because he was desperate.

Harry resumed the movements of his lips and skated his lips over her skin while a large hand palmed her breast possessively. "You think I've just used you because I was desperate, right?"

"Stop doing that," Hermione protested. More like begged. She couldn't take it anymore.

His words were soft and airy against her skin, feeling like an arctic wind. "You're my little kitten, myprincess, my good girl. Do you really think I just shared a one night stand with you?"

"You're leaving in the morning," Hermione shot at him angrily.

"Do you want me to stay then?" Wait. Was he being serious? Nothing in his voice appeared playful or joking. Would he stay if she asked him to? The girl went silent and chewed on her lip as she gave thought to those questions. His crew and travels would be put on hold if he chose to stay with her. "Use your words, Hermione."

"Please stay." The words were out of her mouth before she could help them.

"Alright." Just like that. Wow. She honestly expected more of a fight. Hermione actually expected an outright denial. But he agreed. He was staying. "I can always travel around when I find time with you but I'll be damned if I leave and you end up finding someone new."

Darkness again. Harry wasn't behind her with his rapidly hardening cock resting against the small of her back. The creature of the night, the one that lurked in the shadows, the Biker Man was back. A lump formed in her throat and he must have sensed it because his hand wrapped around her like a necklace and commandingly pulled her backward.

"I'll be damned if you ever let another man touch you like I did. You belong to me," the hand necklace around her started to sink further into her unmarred skin, "no other man gets to see you come. None of them will ever see your pretty little lips wrapped around their cock." Hermione wondered what even was autonomy and independence at that point. If Harry wanted to control her then he would. She would submit to him. Another one of those devilish hands trailed down her front on the way to her tender core. "This pussy belongs to me now."

"Yes, Harry," conceded Hermione. Everything was Harry. The whole world and everything in and around her belonged to her Biker Man. "I'm yours."

"I like the sound of that, kitten," his thick middle finger slipped inside her yearning and hooked itself, "you are mine. Gonna spend all day fucking you until your pussy only knows and begs for my cock. Gonna spend the rest of the night making you forget about everyone else who's ever touched you."

"They weren't as good as you," Hermione tried to explain through her lust-covered tongue. He had nothing to prove to her about his prowess.

"Oh, I know. I don't bloody care, though. I'm going to fuck you so much that you'll remember it when you're at work behind that little counter in your bookstore." Another finger joined his middle one and started to thrust inside, mimicking the movements of his cock. She knew it was just to get her ready because after having felt him inside her, nothing else would ever be able to satisfy her like it did. "Even when you're helping whatever random customer, all you'll be thinking of is how good my cock feels when it's deep inside your pussy."

"You're so dirty," the girl whimpered, making him sharply turn her head so their faces were centimetres apart.

"Do you like it?" Their noses were touching now, lips a hair's breadth away from each other. She was embarrassed to admit that she did. That she craved his darkness and his filthy words. "Answer me, Hermione."

Her mouth fell open and her tongue shaped the words mechanically at his command. "Yes."

Fang-like canines were bared at her in a full blown smile. Promises, promises. Everything about the man with her right now spoke of naughty promises that were as yet unfulfilled. "That's my girl. You're so good for me. Never feel ashamed to tell me what you like and what you want."

The praise made her preen herself happily. Confidence like this had not been felt by her in ages, not since she had signed the deed to grant her ownership of her bookstore and began running it some five years ago. This Biker Man simply waltzed, more like rode, into her life and lifted her up so high that she felt like she was in the clouds. Oh, and it made her wet too.

She knew he could feel it; his fingers were still seated deep inside her and curling against her walls. The slickness pooling inside her core seemed to make itself a permanent fixture. Hermione had been aroused since the encounter in the bookstore and even after three destructive orgasms, it hadn't gone away.

"Still sore?" He asked, tone demanding yet again. It was a marvel that he could so easily take what he wanted from her and she wouldn't have minded but still chose to make sure she was in good enough condition. "Consent matters, Hermione. I would never take you until you tell me you want me."

How did that fill her with a wave of affection? In her past relationships, her partners never talked openly about sex and consent. They never actually even talked about sex and just kind of…fell into bed with her. Her last partner did actually listen to what she liked and needed during sex but even then, he needed guidance. Harry was so different. So comfortable. So confident.

Because of his experience.

Jealousy rocked Hermione after that thought. It was stupid and she had no right to be jealous that Harry had partners before her. Though, he was jealous too. He was possessive over her and angry because she had other people before him. Couldn't she feel the same? Would he even allow her to?

"I'm good at reading people but not that good, Hermione. Tell me what's bothering you, babe," said Harry, his hand leaving her throat to cup her cheek. She was too far gone and she knew it because the girl actually preferred for it to be around her neck instead of her cheek. Luckily, her indecision to speak the truth to him displeased him and she was wearing his hand necklace again.

"I'm jealous that you've had other women before me." If not for the insistent grip around her neck, Hermione would have avoided his gaze. The shyness and shame she felt was new to her. "I know it's stupid…"

"…it's not stupid. Don't assume the worst," he tightened his grip for a little moment that was gone as soon as it came and dug his fingers deeper into her center to put her in a state of delirium, "it's okay to be jealous, kitten. They're in the past now. You and I are the present. Don't forget that."

"You'll really stay?" It hit her all at once that he was being serious about staying. Some of her arousal cleared up to let her really think about it, his promise to her. Not just his promise to stay but his promise to…take…her so much that she would forget about her past lovers.

"I told you I was, didn't I?" Hermione was going to have to get accustomed to the different voices Harry used with her. That was another one of his marvels, how smoothly he could go from a young man no more than her age to the creature of the night that lit her skin on fire and ruined her body like he owned it. "There are a lot of things I'm not fond of, Hermione. Repeating myself is one of them."

The girl went to nod but managed to stop herself right in time. A low breath of relief left her before she confessed, "I'm scared." Baring her heart and soul to him was too easy. In all truthfulness, it shouldn't have been that easy. It was what made her scared. That and the still looming threat that she would wake up and he would be gone in the morning.

"Why are you scared, Hermione?" That shift happened again. The young man had returned and the shadowy creature had departed.

"Because I've never felt like this with anyone. Because you make me feel so…" loved. Saying that word felt like a huge commitment but it encompassed everything she was feeling. Safe, happy, secured, and peaceful. For as much control she kept in her day to day life, it felt nice to just surrender and plunge into black waters headfirst without any care for what lay underneath the surface.

Slick little tongue slithered out to coat her neck when his face burrowed into the side of it. "Answer me, babe. Do I make you feel safe?" Teeth replaced his tongue, pulling the skin between them and leaving marks of his possession over her.

"Yes," Hermione answered in a moan as the ministrations on her neck worked in rhythm with the two fingers still inside her tight heat.

"And do I make you happy?" Those same teeth were then discarded in favour of his lips which sucked a dark spot onto her neck.

She was so drunk. Lazy smiles and euphoric moans had her feeling like she had consumed a bottle of whiskey. "You do."

Air in the room shifted again. The girl knew what was coming as the familiar feeling of chill washed over her and her nerve endings were lit by a matchstick. "And I'm the only one you've ever felt like this with, right?"

Submitting to him willingly, Hermione answered, "You are."

The charming and once easygoing smile on her lover's turned vicious. Her weight was nothing more than a triviality for him because he spun her around and had her straddling him before standing up. Warmth that she knew was from his stiff and unyielding cock rested right below her center.

"Will anyone else get to make you feel like this?" One arm kept her lifted and upright against him while the next one directed his length to her entrance.

All that came out of her were needy whimpers and rambled murmurs of 'no'. That was enough for him to slide his big hands under her arse to bring her down into his thick cock. Eyes fell closed and her head turned weightless at the fullness of him being inside her. And it wasn't just the fullness too, it was the emotion of being one with him again.

"Look…At…Me," Harry furiously ground out at her. On some level, she understood what he wanted. That need to lay claim on her. For her to know just who was breaking her apart on his cock.

Her eyes flew open but the thoroughly pleased girl could only manage an unseeing stare. He bounced her on him, his palms digging painfully into her bum, and held her gaze as his length hit deep into her wetness. So easy, it was, for her to again surrender to his whims and let him have his way with her.

She must have weighed nothing to him with how he didn't even strain to lift and slam her down on him like she was nothing more than his toy. After the amount of screaming and crying out she had done her voice was weaker now just like her whole body was.

Hermione's own sounds of pleasure sounded muffled to her but she had to believe that she was whining and crooning from Harry's unrelenting motions. The pain of him stretching her walls out evolved into pleasure again. A near infinite kind of pleasure.

Then, he sped up. Matching his movements with harsh thrusts into her as he brought her down onto his cock, Harry fucked her at blinding speed. Everything became too much for her. Him. His cock. The slight pain of being stuffed so fully. All of it. And Hermione blacked out just as he roared at her to open her eyes.

Chapter 3: Creatures Of The Night

Chapter Text

The pride that filled him when he fucked Hermione into unconsciousness was all encompassing. She was taking him so well up until that point but he finally broke her apart and ruined her. Sexual fulfillment unlike any other before it made him kind of dizzy. Just seeing the innocent little bookstore owner who was so needy for his cock fall apart like that was a potent aphrodisiac.

It wasn't long until he filled her up again with his release after she blacked out. When it was done and he was sated, he got to work on cleaning her up and drying her off before taking her back to her bed. The admittedly small bed sank under his weight when he slid into it after donning his boxers again and Harry curled his kitten up against his side.

She had begged him to stay and he made the snap decision to acquiesce. Plans already started to come to life in his head. On days where Hermione worked, he would spend time with his crew and make short trips with them to wherever they needed to be. Whenever they had a job, he would see to it that it got done before she got out of work. As for where he would stay, Harry decided to hold steady around Hermione's neighbourhood until he found a place.

There was the idea of staying with her but that was an impossibility. They only knew each other for one night so far. Not even one night, maybe two to three hours now. That was ruled out. The good thing was, however, that he wasn't lying to her.

No other bastard was ever going to touch his little kitten. After what he just did to her, how brutally he fucked her into blacking out, Harry was going to make sure that no one else would get to be with her after that. He didn't care anymore. She wanted him. She begged and pleaded for his cock like it was her salvation. Not even the devil could have her now. Hell, not even God could have her now.

So why was he going to let another mere man have her? A sick laugh was his answer to that question. Hermione didn't know what she asked for when she begged him to stay. But, she was going to enjoy it very, very much.

Handprints around her neck. Love bites left on the side of her throat. Her heart shaped arse turning red from a combination of him spanking her and drilling her from behind. Those plump little lips wrapped around his cock. All of it was going to be her new reality. Harry could almost see it. He could see Hermione hobbling around the bookstore as her pussy ached and pained from him pounding her.

He could perfectly visualize her ashamed but blushing and aroused face as she thought about what he did to her while she ran her store. He could literally feel the imaginary wind blowing in his face when he rode his bike to her store to pick her up and take her home after her shift just so he could bury himself deep in her sweet, sweet pussy.

Stirring from his side brought him out of those wicked musings. His kitten was coming awake. Pushing back his lascivious demeanor, Harry transformed himself into her gentle lover and stroked her hair soothingly along with the muscles of her shoulders. A smile wrote itself on his face when she blinked him into view.

"Tell me how you're feeling," he lowly instructed, pulling her up to cradle her head to his chest and run his fingers through her bushy curls.

Her hand went up to his right pec to steady herself and she hid her face against his breastbone. The body heat radiating off of him would be enough to let her catch her senses. "I blacked out?"

Desire hit him again at her innocent little voice. She was still so meek. So cute. Harry warned his cock to stay still and let him comfort her. There was no possibility that Hermione was ready for another round. "You did. Tell me what you remember. All of it, don't be shy."

He didn't have to order her to do that last part but it would be funny to hear her describe what he did to her. It was helped by how shy she still was even after everything he'd done to her. His shy, adorable, and wanton little kitten.

"You lifted me up and…and…" Harry pressed his lips just a little bit into her hair while she worked to find the courage. So far, he was being lenient and forgiving with her. She did just pass out after all. "…and then you put me on your…thing."

Now that was funny. His 'thing'. Hilarious. What was coming next was going to be even more hilarious for both of them. "Tell me what my thing is, Hermione"

Although it was muffled into his skin, Harry still heard her breath quicken. "You know what it is."

Again, he was being easy with her. A response like that would warrant a spanking because of her refusal but he held back. The veiled threat was still going to be made, though, just to remind her. "Of course I know what it is. I want you to tell me what it is like the good girl you are. You want to be my good girl, right?"

"Yes," she nodded while speaking this time and pressed her cheek against his heart, "you put me on your cock. Took me while standing up."

"See? Now that wasn't so hard, was it?" Harry dropped another kiss into the absolute brown forest that laid atop her head and shifted her to lie between his legs. "These are things you shouldn't be ashamed of saying when we're in private. I know you're shy and this is all new but you'll have to learn to be more open and comfortable with me."

"Yes, Harry." Those two words were the best words ever invented. Scratch that, those two words were the best words ever invented and then uttered by Hermione.

"Good girl. Are you still sore?" He waited for the praise to sink into her which it did easily and made her smile against his chest.

"It's tender down there. And my thigh muscles are aching just a little. You didn't hurt me, though." There was no upper limit on how cute she could be. How quick she was, to assure him that he didn't hurt her. Like she didn't want him to think that he was responsible for her pain.

"Then we'll take a break until you wake up in the morning," said Harry, moving to lie down and have her lying atop him. Her entire body fitted atop his with room to spare. The size difference. The bloody size difference. Damn. "Sleep now. I'll fuck you again in the morning."

The cheeky little minx had the nerve and the damn audacity to ask him, "Promise?" Not so innocent after all. Or maybe that innocence was lost after everything that just happened. Maybe he was the forbidden fruit she'd taken a bite of.

Heavy palm landed on her left arse cheek, the one as yet untouched by his spankings. "Don't ask stupid questions, kitten. If I say I'll do something, then nothing will stop me." That same palm swatted her cheek lightly to yank a squeak from her before he felt her wet lips turn up against his skin. She wanted it. "Did you want that, babe?" The flesh on the cheek rolled and pressed against his fingers. "Did you enjoy me spanking you?"

"Yes." One word. One agreement. Harry nearly lost it. Sex had to wait, though. It couldn't happen while she was in this state.

Instead, he decided to lay out terms and warnings. Playtime, as it were, was over. "Then I should warn you that I have been more than gentle and generous with you. In the morning, that all changes."

"I can take it," Hermione resolutely told him.

Laughing, Harry kneaded her bum again before responding to her. "I hope you can. I've let you take liberties that no one else has before you. I'm not telling you this so you can feel lucky or privileged, I'm telling you now so you know not to expect it for the rest of our relationship unless I give express permission."

"I understand," she drowsily called in return. Sleep was hot on her heels.

"Good girl. Get some rest," praised Harry in his command.

As she fell into her slumber, the waters of thought pulled him away from the real world again. While he wasn't exactly lying about not being more generous and gentle with her, Harry knew he couldn't 'go all the way' with Hermione for a while. She was submissive, yes, but also wholly inexperienced. Pushing her too hard too soon was a recipe for disaster. He would have to ease her into the lifestyle. Let her get her feet wet.

The other thing that drew his concern was how his crew was going to react to her. And honestly, he didn't care. They knew he hadn't had a relationship since that tumultuous one with Ron's sister all those years ago and knew of his lifestyle. Their judgement on him choosing to go steady with Hermione didn't matter. What mattered was how they would treat her.

If they even so much as looked at her disrespectfully, Harry would make hell look like paradise for them. Odd to say that about people he had known for eleven years, especially when it was concerning a woman he only knew for just over three hours now. But, odd as it was, he didn't care.

Hermione was his now. His to protect, his to pleasure, and his to take care of. After everything that just happened, no fucking way was he going to let another have her. How in the world he had gone so long without her, he didn't know. What he did know was that she belonged to him. Every little delicate part of her now was signed to his ownership. Young as their relationship was, she wasn't going to recognize that right away even if he told her. When she did, however, it was going to be fun to watch. And even more fun to remind her.

The little kitten curled up on his chest had no idea what she had gotten herself into. What was that thing about curiosity and the cat? He wasn't going to kill her but she was going to learn a very pleasurable lesson with him.

"You're mine now, sweet kitten."

Sinful smile on his face, he threw her blanket over their bodies and drifted off to the land of dreams just to pass time until the morning when his hunger for her would be sated again.

———

It wasn't even four hours later when Harry awoke to find the world still shrouded in darkness. Hermione's room window was hidden by blackout curtains but he could see that the light underneath them wasn't nearly as bright as it would be if the sun rose. That didn't mean that it wasn't morning now, however.

Morning had come and, with it, his hunger for the little princess sleeping on his chest. The prelude to his next session with her started lightly with barely-there touches of his fingers over the pliant skin of her back. His little kitten was asleep with a smile on her face and her tiny hand trying to grab at his chest but started to murmur and shift in her sleep.

Tenebrosity enveloped him again. The familiar dark creature in his head saw her adorable innocence on display yet again and decided that this round was going to be rough and forceful yet again. It wasn't up to Harry's control anymore. Sharp and powerful need to wreck his lover's insides and temporarily take her ability to walk cornered him and forced him to do its bidding.

He found the apex of her thighs, sliding into it to feel her warm pussy. Thank goodness that he didn't dress her in panties after she had passed out. Those familiar smooth nether lips bended and amended to his touch like putty. Deciding to start off slowly, Harry rubbed the folds and massaged them as he dipped just the tip of his finger into her.

Hermione moved and shuffled more in response but her legs, even in her unconscious state, parted some more to give him better access. That put a smirk on his face. Her body knew who it belonged to. Who owned it and fucked it into submission. The smirk evolved into a low pitched chuckle before he increased his tempo running her pussy.

"Wake up, Hermione. It's morning," Harry commanded softly. His little kitten flew awake at his deep voice and stared at him through sleep clouded eyes. He took the chance to curl a finger deep inside her center again and a gasp left her as the juices started to flow. "Remember what I promised."

As a dominant, he never asked questions to his submissives when he was in 'dom mode'. Some questions were requests and Harry didn't give requests unless it was to tease. He gave orders. It was one way to stamp his authority and signify the power balance. Kitten remembered his promise and attempted to shake her head before she caught herself. Good girl. That habit was starting to be broken.

"I remember," she said and then leaned her cheek into his hand. His good girl was so damn small. Even his hand pretty much covered her whole face. He traced over her lips with his thumb while holding her cheek.

"Suck." Just like the good girl he knew she was, her lips parted and pulled his thumb into her mouth where her tongue started to work it. "Do you like sucking me, sweet kitten? You can nod."

Chestnut brown curls shook violently at her vehement nod. Harry kissed her forehead afterwards. He got lucky with her. She was so cute but had a little bit of a feral side that was just itching to surface. By any means necessary, he was going to pull it out of her. Turn her into a sex demonness.

"You're so good to me. Such a good girl," he praised her easily, gently. Another eager nod came from her as she sucked harder on his thumb and fucking moaned around it. The control he had on himself snapped like a coiled string. "I need to be inside you again. I'm going to make you scream loud enough to wake the neighbourhood," he promised.

Harry flipped them over at blinding speed and positioned himself at her entrance for the third time. Kitten's arms went to hook under his shoulders but he took her wrists, holding them above his head. "No touching this time, babe." Teeth nibbled on her juicy lips again and moved to her mushy cheek until arriving at her earlobe where he whispered again, "you want this?"

Short and not even there thrusts of his cock against her slit made her whimper like she was in agony. Poor little Hermione needed his cock in her hot pussy so badly. She bucked up underneath him and tried to wrap her legs around his waist. Firm and nearly blackened green eyes warned her.

"I asked you a question. Spread your legs and keep them there," Harry dictated again, this time with the familiar edge to his voice.

His princess cried out for him. "I want you," she told him through near sobs. The way she ached for his cock threatened to kill him. Just an untainted and unashamed need was on her face. "Please, Harry. Fuck me again. Please."

How he managed not to give into her after that, he didn't know. He somehow managed to talk to her again after that through some miracle. "How badly do you want it, princess? Do you want me to ruin you again? Fuck you even more hard than last time?"

"Yes! I need you. Please fuck me. Ruin me." That did it. What his little kitten wanted, she was going to get. Plans changed like winds.

He extricated himself from their position and wordlessly told her not to ask any questions when she looked like she was about to complain. "Hands and knees, now. Grab hold of your headboard."

The little minx went ahead and did as was told with such fervor that Harry groaned. Her pert arse bared to him now, he positioned himself behind her and skated a finger between her thighs to find her quivering pussy. Her knees sank into the bed as her knuckles turned white on the bed frame and her face burrowed into her pillows.

All the blood in his body felt like it rushed to his throbbing cock and it wept to be inside her again. Just for fun, he swatted her bum again before grasping his length and sliding it over her folds. "So damn wet. You really are a needy little thing, aren't you?" Her pussy was practically filled to overflow with her slick.

"Only for you." Harry did a double take at her muffled words. Only for him? This woman was going to kill him. Or he was going to kill himself. The amount of times he would fuck her just rose to a near infinite level.

"Yessss," Harry hissed in conjunction with Hermione's broken scream, head lolling back as he drove himself home inside her tightness. Fuck, it really did feel like home. The warmth, the loving caress of her walls, the stranglehold on his cock because she was just so tight. Uncharacteristically, he had to breathe to himself and pull himself together. "Fuckkkkk, kitten."

"H—Ha—Harry," she stuttered through a high moan.

Barely any space was left between his fingers on the small of her back as he clutched both sides of her waist and withdrew himself to the tip. "You're killing me, princess." There was a destructive ember burning in him, fueling him to split her apart with his cock.

Without preamble, Harry rammed himself back into her and dug his palms into the softness around her hips. The shriek she let out was earth shattering, or at least, it would have been had it not been for her face smothered in the pillows. There was sure to be marks around her hips when he was done but he didn't care.

He set an unforgiving pace, fucking into her from behind and letting the clap of his waist meeting her arse echo through her bedroom. Hermione's body bent again, her back curving downwards as his thrusts took him balls deep into her cunt.

Then she started to clench on him when he tried to pull out and do it all over again. Her heavenly smooth walls clutched at his cock to keep it in her warmth and it made Harry nearly die. That was probably an exaggeration but the point still stood; the feeling of his cock being strangled by her pussy was paradise.

Grunts, moans, and clapping played in the room like music. Harry looked down to see all eight inches of him sheathe itself in her core to emerge soaked in her slick. She took him so well. So deep. And he wanted to go deeper. His hips barreled into her as he tried to get his cock so deep that she could feel him in her throat.

Hermione's moans devolved into tiny gasps and whimpers as he robbed her of thought and voice. It felt like he was hitting bottom with every thrust—he probably was—and Harry spanked her arse again, murmuring, "Good girl. You take me so well."

Another swat followed and she let out some kind of garbled sound that was part scream, part moan, and part whimper. He switched up his rhythm and slowed down as he pulled out to methodically sheathe himself inside her. Those heated wet folds parted from the tip of his cock and permitted entry to her sweetness. The slowness of it allowed him to savour being inside her.

His cock was so sensitive and he felt everything in such exquisite detail. No wonder her other partners couldn't satisfy her because with a pussy like this that needily suckled at his cock, even Harry was losing himself. He had to finish her off first.

Spanking her again, palm bouncing off her ass, he took his pace to near blinding speed and slammed into her with shallow thrusts. He was bent on riding her to orgasm first. Pride was at stake.

Her cheeks rippled from the impact of his hips meeting them, the wet thud of skin meeting skin played like drumbeats, and Harry felt his balls start to tighten at the same time Hermione threw her head back and cried at the ceiling.

"You can come, kitten," little did she know that he was begging her to just because he couldn't hold on much longer, "come for me. Be a good girl." He wasn't religious but he bloody prayed to her, worshiped her, and pleaded with her to finish.

Heaven came to him in a second as he pulled out all the way one last time and hit bottom from a thrust that shook the bed underneath them. Then, Hermione finished and her pussy hugged his hardness so damn tightly that he began to fear its shape would be permanently altered.

The slight pain was barely even noticeable from the overwhelming pleasure that crashed over him like a tsunami. Every muscle in his body contracted as he pulled her arse back to his waist and fell over her before roaring, "HERMIONE," loud enough to probably wake the neighbours.

Shivers and shakes rattled his body when he came inside her. His cock sprayed so much of his cum and wasn't stopping even as his balls felt like they were going to be sucked inside out. Fuck. It was like he was permanently going to be stuck filling his little kitten up until the day he died.

Lips found Hermione's shoulder after he finally stopped emptying himself in her clenching pussy. The exhaustion from their rather strenuous activities was eager to make itself known but Harry slid an arm under her before going up to her throat and pulling her upright. Sitting back on his knees, her back flush against his chest while she wore his hand on her neck, he ignored the burning in his thighs to hold her up.

"Your pussy is so sweet, kitten," the salty taste of her sweat exploded into his mouth when he lapped it up off her neck, "I think it's drugged me. Wanna fuck you all day and night."

"Hnggg." His princess' spaghetti arm tried to curl behind her to grab onto his head but fell limply at her side. He'd fucked her to exhaustion. Fucked her so hard that her bones were jelly. "Harry," Hermione brainlessly called like it was the only thing she could say. His name, he, was the only thing left in her mind.

"Too bad you have to run your little bookstore or I'll keep you here all day and night to fuck you until I can't anymore," teased Harry, meaning every word of it. How many times had he taken her now? Three? It was nowhere near enough. If he spent the rest of his life burying his cock deep into her pussy until his balls emptied themselves, it still wouldn't be enough.

"Oh, Harry." Those two words replaced 'Yes, Harry' as his favourite ones uttered by her.

"Or maybe I don't have to keep you here," his teeth pulled at her earlobe again while his free hand went down to her cunt where his cock was still seated inside her, "maybe I'll come to your bookstore. Maybe I'll bend you over that counter and fuck you till you're leaking my cum for the rest of your shift. Or I can shag you against the bookshelves, make you scream my name so all of the other shops can hear you."

Dirty talk wasn't new to him but he had never been this filthy before. Hermione really was driving him mad. The funny thing was, he was going to try to make good on those words.

Ruining her in her little bookshop was just too tempting to pass up. He wanted to mark every part of her with himself. Harry wanted to possess her so thoroughly that no part of her life would be untouched by him. That's what she deserved for having other partners before him. Now he was going to fuck every last remnant of them out of her mind.

If he had known she was waiting for him, he never would have even fucked Cho or Ginny. They just couldn't compare. They weren't her. She was just as jealous that he had previous relationships as he was to her and he understood. The good thing was, though, his kitten was possessive over him just like he was over her. That made it so much easier for him.

Sliding his fingers down to her pussy to where they were joined, Harry scooped up the mixture of their releases. Her slick and his cum adorned his fingertip before he brought it to her lips. "Suck." His kitten dove in with no hesitation and pulled the fluid clean off his finger. A moan from her rang out afterwards like music.

Were it not for the exhaustion in his muscles and the fact that she had sucked his balls dry thrice now over the course of the night, Harry would have taken Hermione right then and there again. Regrettably, however, he had to pull out of her and collapsed onto the bed. She fell onto his chest afterward to bask in the afterglow.

Sunlight had not yet broken through the bottom edges of her blackout curtains which meant they still had time for some more rest. "Sleep, princess." She had already dozed off without his command and it wasn't long for him to follow her. In a rare bit of affection shown outside of sex, Harry kissed her hair again and cuddled up to her protectively. "My good girl."

———

Soreness made itself aware to Hermione as soon as she was awake enough to feel it. Her center ached and pulsed with shooting bites of pain from her escapades last night. That, however, didn't scare her as much as Harry's presence did. Or rather, the lack of it. She nearly started to panic and assume the worst but his jeans were neatly hung over her study's chair as was his shirt.

Hermione snatched up his black—everything he wore was black apparently—t-shirt and decided to wear it just because it was his and probably had his scent on it. And yes, it was weird how attached to him she was already but how couldn't she be? The man who took her last night made her feel special in ways no one else did before. But it was more than just the feeling that she was special, it was also the knowledge that she mattered to him. That he cared for her.

Oh, what was she doing? She had to stop analyzing it and just enjoy it. Harry had stayed and kept his promise to her. Not only that, his words implied that he was going to stick around for the foreseeable future. To shag her in her bookshop and spend all day/night shagging her. His words, not hers. If anyone close to her knew how much she wanted those things to come to life, wanted his promises to be fulfilled, they would blush and admonish her.

After slipping on one of her 'comfy shorts' as she called them, Hermione hurried out of her room with excitement not known to her since she first stepped foot into her bookstore. There he was, back to her in nothing but dark plaid boxers, apparently looking over her stove. Curiously, the girl wondered what he was worrying over until the thought hit her.

Her Biker Man had made her breakfast.

"Oh," Hermione murmured so lowly that even she couldn't hear herself clearly. All she could do was stand and watch as Harry cooked her breakfast. Her gaze raked over everything about him including the tattoo on his right side just around the curve of his waist. How had she not seen that last night?

Probably because I was too busy being shagged senseless, she thought to herself with reddened cheeks.

It appeared to be a wolf's head howling at the moon and extended below his waistline to where only the snout and the moon was showing on his side. That made him ten times more hot. Hermione was never a fan of tattoos but, oh God, a tattoo on her Biker Man was insane. It made no sense how hot he was.

Littered upon the rest of the skin on his back, however, were scars. They were so numerous but not at all unattractive. If she had to guess, they looked to be from battles but the jagged lines that ran parallel across his spine were from somewhere else. Their relationship wasn't that far in for her to ask about them, though. Not yet.

Beating her curiosity back, Hermione approached her lover and he turned around at the same time to meet her with a plate full of eggs, toast, beans, and sausages. A full English breakfast. Biker Man had made her a full English breakfast. The girl swooned embarrassingly before anything could be done about it and her eyelashes batted at him without her permission.

"I see you're up and not in good shape." She had winced when she shifted her weight over to her other leg and it made a jolt of stinging shoot through her core. He must have noticed. Her plate was laid out on the coffee table before he gestured to it. "Eat, it's a weekday so I'm assuming you have work."

He slid into his chair after taking a mug of coffee—she told him it was okay for him to do so after he asked—and Hermione surprised herself when she slid onto his lap and curled up like a kitten. His kitten. She was his kitten after all. If he was shocked, he didn't show it and downed his mug of black coffee afterwards.

"What time do you go in for work?" He asked as she dug into her breakfast, stealing a sausage from the plate.

The perks of owning and running her store let her choose the opening and closing times. She preferred to go in during the midday to the end of the night. People tended to shop for books in the afternoon after their business for the day was concluded and that was when the most sales happened. Ever since she learnt of that pattern, she decided to go in during the afternoon and leave late at night.

"I'll drop you to work and pick you up when you're done if you'd like." The fact that he offered that to her instead of telling her he would do it let her know that her rough and dominant lover was gone for the moment. And she missed him.

"Are you telling me or offering me?" Hermione said, trying to bait her dark Biker Man out to lay claim to her.

The bait was taken as a familiar feeling went over her and his hand on her lap started to assertively press into her soft skin. "Now I'm telling you, kitten."

Surrendering control and autonomy never felt this good.

She didn't want to seem too clingy again but she scheduled time every night at seven to get dinner before returning to the shop. Spending so much time without Harry during her whole shift already felt like too much and getting dinner with him would be nice. Really, Hermione didn't know how she was this attached to him already.

"Tell me what's bothering you, Hermione," he beckoned in that voice. The one that drenched her lower regions and lit flames across her skin. "You have a question for me."

"Would you…" that sounded like she was asking him out on a date. The statement was cut short at that but it wouldn't be that way for long.

"Yes, out with it," Harry instructed almost immediately after she paused. Suddenly embarrassed with cheeks coloured to boot, Hermione foolishly tried to shuffle off his lap only for his hand to circle around her throat, killing that notion swiftly. "I don't like repeating myself, kitten. Tell me what's making you shy now."

"Would you like to get dinner with me on my break?" She finally asked after plunging headfirst into the situation instead of hiding from it.

"That's what you were worried about?" Her lover didn't sound disappointed at all. He actually sounded amused and it made her lips turn up before they parted to let a moan pass them when he started to kiss her shoulder. His shirt hung so loosely on her to the point that she was swimming in the material. "You're such a cute little sweet kitten."

Wetness gushed between her thighs again, ruining her shorts. Who knew she had a praise kink? She certainly didn't. It could probably be that she just had a 'praise from Harry' kink. The way his words left his tongue were different from anyone else, especially when they were in praise of her.

"I'll come pick you up for dinner and then come back after your shift," he asserted to her this time. There was no offer, just him telling her what was going to happen. Hermione loved that but she already admitted to it multiple times. "I have to go meet up with my crew and change my clothes."

Before she could stop herself, Hermione asked, "Will you bring some clothes here?" Maybe that was too much of a commitment for him and she had probably just scared him off. After all, he did promise to stay with her and be her…whatever he was…but asking him to keep a set of clothes in her flat was too much.

Like he was beginning to build a habit of, Harry shot her thoughts down with his next words. "Do you want me to? This one you have to answer. Consent matters, remember?"

"I do. I remember and I want you to. It would be easier for you but I don't want you to think I'm asking you to commit so much to me or take such a big step or…" it was all going so well for her. She had started off so bravely and confidently got out the words until she began rambling nonsensically.

When Harry shifted her onto one of his thighs, however, and rounded her to face him, everything died in her throat. "Do you know what you did when you asked me to stay with you, Hermione?"

"N—no," the girl stammered, not out of fear but out of arousal.

The sharp fangs of his canines gleamed at her until they disappeared after he started to nip at her neck. "You asked me to make you mine. When you begged me to stay, princess, you became mine. Not just for last night or today but for however long you want me."

"I'm…ohhh God." Whatever she had to say was replaced by a cry to the heavens when his possessive hand palmed her breast.

"No God, sweet kitten. Just me," he mocked her. He was right. Not even God could fill her with such pleasure. This was wicked and too hot to handle. "Like I said, you're mine. You belong to me now, Hermione. There's nothing you can ask of me that I won't do and there's nothing I won't do for you."

Hermione was lost in everything. It was early in the morning and she was drunk off her head already without having consumed a drop of alcohol. "Yes, Harry."

"Who do you belong to?" He tested her like a teacher, wanting to hear the correct answer.

"You," she answered breathlessly through a sizzled smile.

"And who's my sweet little kitten?" His lips found the corner of her mouth and his hand snaked under the waistband of her shorts down to her soaked heat.

Before she could answer, his expert fingers sought out and found her clit with ease to stroke circles onto it. The motion left her in a puddle of goo but Hermione still found a way to answer. "I am."

"Yes you are, my good girl," one of his fingers dipped into her wetness again as he dodged her attempt to kiss him, "you're so wet for me already, babe. I think I want a taste. You'll let me, right?"

Of course she would. She would let him do anything. Not one of her partners had offered to use their mouth on her and she was beginning to think that they were just incompetent and not just inexperienced. Harry, however, was anything but those two things. The fact that he asked for her consent too was another plus for him even though he very well could have thrown her on the table and just did it.

"Please, Harry," a needy Hermione begged, vivid paintings of his face between her thighs showing in her head.

A flash of a moment later, the coffee table was cleared and Hermione found herself sitting atop it while her lover pulled his shirt off of her. His chest and throat vibrated with his rumble of appreciation when he saw the stiff peaks of her nipples. "So beautiful, kitten."

Again, she preened herself at the praise. Had she not been sitting down and waiting for him to take her to orgasm again, Hermione would have strutted around like a peahen. Instead, the chilled wood of her coffee table sent goosebumps along her skin and caused her to tremble when Harry laid her down on it. Her shorts came off a second later and, again, he rumbled out his appreciation.

"I just want a taste, princess," he whispered, sliding down onto his knees and bringing his face level with her center. Those large roughened hands of his pressed down on her thighs to keep her still before he leaned in and the world exploded into a supernova.

"HARRYYYYY…ohhhhhh." Her hands found the edges of the table to hold on for dear life while Harry's serpentine tongue lapped up her juices straight from the source.

Her thighs spread apart and he started devouring her like a man who had been starved for weeks. Licking her, running his teeth over her folds and clit, and sucking her slick up. There was no part of her center that his mouth didn't touch.

And then his fingers went to part her folds.

That was it for Hermione as her back arched off the table and the kitchenette hosted a concert of her screaming in pleasure. He repeated the motions of his cock with his tongue, thrusting in and out of her with it and making a point to swirl around the slick inside her. On top of that, his other fingers went to her breast and tugged at the nipple.

"Taste so good," he praised with lips still pressed to her center. The warm breath from him speaking blew right into her sensitive nub and pushed cold flames through her nerve endings. He dove back in and flicked his tongue over her slit again, making her body bow again.

And then he shattered her. Harry thrusted his tongue into her thrice more before scraping his teeth over her bundle of nerves and then pulling it between his lips to suck deeply on it. Hermione's body went off on its own as it writhed and spasmed on the table. The gasps and moans that were tumbling from her converged into a deafening shriek when Harry's cock replaced his tongue and he fell over her on the table.

"Fuck, kitten," he gritted, giving it to her hard and fast.

Her wrists pained to the table, Harry lying over her, his length splitting her apart from the inside out, and Hermione was in wonderland. A different space of the world presented itself to her, one where unmitigated pleasure washed over her like water. She ascended to that space, losing herself completely in pleasure.

An eternity later she felt the warmth of Harry's release explode inside her and fill her insides. The firm grip on her wrists loosened to let them lock behind his neck when he took her by the throat and slammed their lips together. Rough and demanding, his tongue canvassed every part of her mouth and engulfed her very being.

They separated when he was done taking her soul through her mouth. "You're going to suck me dry, babe."

Tiredly, Hermione giggled. After the amount of times he had filled her up, she was still surprised he had so much left to give. She was just as surprised that she wanted it the way she did. The warmth of his essence painting her insides was like nothing else.

"I love how you feel inside me," said Hermione, no longer timid about sharing her desires. At least for now, when the afterglow was over her, she was open about her likes and wants the way Harry wanted her to be. "I love how your cum feels inside me."

"That's my girl," he praised in response. Those three words went right to her heart and made it do backflips in her chest. "You're such a quick learner, kitten."

"My teacher is amazing." His cock twitched inside her, drawing a choked breath from the girl.

"Careful, kitten, if you keep saying that I'll fuck you til you can't talk anymore," said Harry warningly.

Now more confident in herself, Hermione pushed Harry up to cup his cheeks and meet his eyes. "Promise?" Her lips pressed themselves against his chin before she started nipping at his jaw. "I already can't walk, might as well go all the way."

A wicked grin appeared on his face. Her Biker Man was hot as hell and sexy as sin. It made her walls clench around his still hardened length. "Has my sweet kitten lost her innocence already?"

"Only for you," Hermione declared proudly, uncaring of the implications.

Her favourite type of necklace went around her again in clear sign of his possession. "That's right, princess. Only mine."

"Only yours."

Chapter 4: Nyctophilia

Chapter Text

"Yesssss, kitten, fuck yourself on me," Hermione's Biker Man urged as she rode him like a, well, bike. Had it not been for all of his thick eight inch cock being seated to the hilt inside her, she would have laughed at that. "Fuck yes, princess, you're doing so well." The moan that left her was dragged all the way out from the deepest part of her throat.

With just an hour to go for him to leave and drop her off to work, Hermione had decided to drag Harry to her bathroom again and get her fill of his cum inside her before her workday began. He was ready and willing, as he always was, to give her what she wanted. In truth, though, there was no way they would spend the remaining time before her shift and not shag him.

Harry's too large hands were digging into her waist and assisting her as she bounced on his cock before one of them slid behind to spank her. That made the girl unwittingly clench on him right as she rose up off the length, drawing a pained hiss from her lover.

His whole countenance reflected the pleasure she was giving him. "So fucking tight, sweet kitten." He was all constricted muscles, narrowed eyes, and bulging biceps as she took his length inside her. The polar opposite of her, who was all high moans and jellyfied bones.

The girl was losing her mind as his cock brushed her cervix. All shuddering moans with her head flying backwards. Here, in her flat with him, she didn't care. Didn't care how loud she was being. Hermione didn't care that the neighbours could probably hear her screaming and letting out sounds that would make even a nymph look virtuous.

Another spank hit in time with her sinking down onto his length and Harry found her throat afterwards. One heavy hand on her arse and the other wrapped around her neck, he laid his claim on her and her movements stuttered in response. Her bouncing slowed up a bit and he took over, thrusting up into her and meeting her halfway.

"Look how gorgeous you look on my cock, kitten," the grip on her throat started to constrict like a little rope as his thumb stroked at the skin, "this is the only place you belong. Riding me like a good girl, right?"

Hermione shook her head in agreement and screamed, "YES," in agreement. The slide of his cock felt paradisiacal, her slick washing out over him like a waterfall. Sinful smirk on his face, Harry leaned in and kissed her as he fucked up into her.

Fingernails dug into his shoulder when she used them for leverage to squat over him. Harry's eyes fell downward to watch his hardness disappear into her and he husked a deep moan. Hearing him moan rather than grunt or hiss sent even more wetness pooling out of her.

"Come on, babe," he urged through gritted teeth, bending to pull a nipple between his lips as her head fell over his shoulder. Another swat sounded through the room and a sting of pain pulsed from her bum. And she was so close to rapture again. "Fuck me. Fuck me as hard as you want."

Recognizing that for what it was, him giving some semblance of control to her, Hermione arched backwards and her hands found his legs stretched out behind her. Her body leaned backwards and gave her a better angle to push herself up off him before sheathing him inside her again.

Her sounds started to break apart, becoming garbled and mangled as she used her hands to press on his knees and push herself up off him until his cockhead was barely past her entrance. Harry slammed her back down and the water from their wet skin splashed off of them while his cock hit that special spot inside her.

Soon, Hermione picked up the tempo and repeated the same movements but Harry had gotten active as he found her clit. His thumb pressed into her bud and white fire erupted out of her body. Her movements stuttered as her hips bucked under the pleasure and he grinned evilly when she couldn't find the air in her lungs to breathe.

"Going to come all over my cock, kitten?" He asked her mockingly, thumb applying pressure to her most sensitive spot.

The girl was trying to keep up her motions but faltered under the assault from him. Sensing it, Harry took over and bounced her on his member like her weight meant nothing to him. Sounds of clapping along with choked gasps filled the room as his cock hit straight into her cervix.

"Use your words, Hermione," growled Harry wickedly as he fucked her hard and fast to render her voiceless. Rough and demanding. Ruthlessly trying to uncork her climax. "Going to fill you up. Want this pussy to be leaking my cum."

Just like that, she fell apart. All the girl knew was pure white. The world evaporated in a flash of the colour and only Harry's insistent grip around her throat kept her seated in reality. On his cock where she belonged. He fucked out his own release through her orgasm and made good on his promise to fill her up to the point of leaking.

And then his lips were on hers again before his tongue practically kicked them open and dove into her throat. Warmth from his cum deep inside her and him consuming her body from the inside out with his mouth sent Hermione off to that new space of pleasure he had introduced her to on her kitchen table earlier.

Descending from their high with the warm water of the shower aiding them, the couple stared at each other with matching smiles once the drunkenness from their orgasm faded away. Harry was the first to speak after he ghosted kisses across her shoulders and the tops of her breasts. "Been fucking you every chance I've gotten and it's still not enough, kitten."

Didn't he know how much of an effect his words had on her? He was so filthy and it made her clit nearly vibrate with desire while her nipples tightened. His cock slipped out of her afterwards and Hermione distinctly felt his essence leak out of her like he wanted. However, his finger went down to her center to push it back in and keep it there.

"Oh, Harry," gasped Hermione when he pushed even more of his release back into her entrance.

"Want you to keep it there, as a reminder of who this pussy belongs to," he told her in the voice of her shadowy creature and not her gentle lover.

Bottom lip between her teeth to keep from moaning again, Hermione nodded before reaching to kiss him once more. He let her but broke it off to bring a punishing hand down on her rear, letting her know that her not using her voice to respond to him was not ignored. Little did he know, though, that his punishment was only winding her up again. Or maybe he did know.

He swatted her arse again before digging his fingers into the flesh and grasping it roughly. "Get on your knees. I'm too tired to spank you and you need to be punished." The shadow of his large body loomed over her again when he stood to his full height and brought her head level with his semi hard cock. One of his thumbs came back to brush over her lips, signaling what her punishment was going to be, "I'm going to use this pretty mouth since you don't seem to be using it to talk."

All too quickly and eagerly, Hermione's mouth fell open and Harry's hand found her head with fingers carding through her hair to grip. As far as punishment went, from spankings to now this, the girl wondered if they actually were punishments and not rewards.

"Be a good girl and suck my cock, kitten," Harry instructed, the hand on her head guiding her to his length.

On her knees, his cum still leaking out of her, Hermione pulled his head between her lips and swirled her tongue in circles over the bulbous tip to get him fully hard. Somehow, she knew he didn't want her to use her hands when she sucked him. He wanted to use her mouth only.

After finishing her ministrations on the tip, she dipped lower until half his length was in her mouth and used her tongue to lick the thick vein and ridge under it. Murmured praises and cries of 'yes' snuck past her lover's lips while she worked him.

His hands left her hair and slid down to underneath her shoulders where he started to lift her arms. "Lift them up for me, kitten." No second thought passed her mind as she did as was told. Her arms were held upright above her head as Harry crossed her wrists in his hand and held them there. "Keep sucking, sweetheart."

Something had been awakened in her last night with him. This was twice now that she was on her knees before him with his cock in her mouth and she was enjoying it. Was deriving more pleasure from it than he was, she thought. Never before had such sexual confidence been present within her. Never before did plain old vanilla sex look so unappealing.

Not when it was being compared to sex with Harry. Whatever he was, he made sex into everything it should have been. He turned it into an act designed to rip orgasms from her and leave her drunk. Drunk on pleasure, drunk on his cock, drunk on his cum. How did she go so long without knowing a whole world of sex like this existed?

That didn't matter now, she decided. The man who brought her into that world was punishing, more like rewarding, her and she took it easily. Her nose rested at his pubic bone as his cock slid further in her mouth and down her throat. It took an effort to will her gag reflex away but it disappeared in time and Hermione pulled off the length just to take it all the way in again.

"That's my girl…fuck," Harry praised then swore as her cheeks hollowed out with the force of her sucking him.

On and on it went—she had to work hard to get him to his third climax of the morning—and Hermione glanced up at her lover, knowing that he enjoyed staring into her eyes while his length was in her mouth. It was what did him in the first time she sucked him.

And just like the first time, it wasn't long before he exploded down her throat from her stare and her mouth persistently pulling at his cock. She took him all the way in her throat and swallowed every last drop of his cum like the good girl she was.

———

"Seeing you in your cute little bookshop owner outfits makes me want to ruin you even more, kitten," Harry called from behind her as they stared at their reflections.

She was wearing another cardigan— this one was beige—over a salmon coloured floral print dress with black tights and minimal boots. The words from her lover behind her turned her cheeks the same colour as her dress. The shy and innocent Hermione had returned as she got ready for work.

"You're gorgeous, Hermione," he complimented genuinely, this time with no sexual tension behind the words.

He was a sight to behold himself even though he was wearing the exact same outfit from last night. How funny it was that they had only met a night ago and he now owned her body and soul. Harry cared for her, gave her all the nice things like orgasms and praises, and had a jealous and possessive streak a mile wide. How quickly she had fallen for him and how nice that she didn't bloody care what anyone would think.

But back to his outfit. His matte black racer jacket fit him well, perfectly in fact, and was thrown over the same black t-shirt she had worn in the morning during their tryst on the kitchen table. The washed black jeans he wore were not too tight nor skinny and fit him perfectly like everything else of his did. It highlighted his thighs and accentuated his bum brilliantly. Of course, the significance of the outfit was nice to her as well.

They were going to ride again on his motorbike. The same bike that she had orgasmed on because of him. Did he remember? Hermione would die from embarrassment if he teased her about it. Once she gathered her purse and keys, Harry pushed her out of the bedroom and helped her put on his helmet again.

His palm hit her arse again and beckoned her forward out of the door. "Don't want you to be late now, babe." Blushing up a storm, Hermione nodded and yelped again as he swatted the sensitive flesh to guide her out of her flat. Was he trying to ruin her knickers again?

His bike was left untouched under the covers he had draped over it and she breathed an unknowing sigh of relief when the leather seat showed no signs of the wetness she spilled on it when she came while riding it. Harry huffed annoyedly after the fact.

"I was hoping I could still see your juices on my seat, kitten. I don't think I'll clean it, want to be reminded that you came all over my bike," he told her with no hint of mockery or amusement. God, he was so damn wicked.

Situated on his bike, Hermione hugged him from behind tightly and ignored the slight pain and definite arousal she felt as he coaxed the engine to life and it started rumbling beneath her. It wasn't lost on her that she was practically slung onto her Biker Man like a backpack and the thought made her smile so hard that her cheeks cramped up.

Harry took off moments later and she snuggled into his back as much as she could with the helmet in the way. The chilly winter winds lashed at her but it was the warmth radiating off of his body that was felt by her. He drove heat like a radiator. No wonder she was always hot and bothered around him.

"Enjoying yourself, princess?" He asked over his shoulder as they failed to beat the traffic light. His hair was swept and tousled by the wind and Hermione got the distinct image of holding onto the dark locks while he buried his face between her thighs. She was becoming just as wicked as him.

"I see why you love this so much. I should get my own motorcycle," responded Hermione with no intention of ever following through on her statement. Why would she get a bike of her own when riding Harry, riding with Harry, was so much better.

"Can't let you do that, Hermione," he called again.

"Why not? Think I can't handle myself?" She asked back through a little smile.

"No, it's biker rules," his playful hand reached behind him to stroke up her leg and drag a finger over her tights, "you ride the bike, you ride its owner."

Oh. And she was riding Harry's bike. Had she been in her bedroom, Hermione would have buried her face into her pillow while giggling and kicking her feet. This man was going to be the death of her. That settled it, not that she ever planned on getting her own bike, and the girl resolved to only ever ride her Biker Man's motorcycle.

The trip was nicer this time around as Hermione could appreciate the scenery of her neighbourhood and the city without being clouded by a haze of arousal. She could savour so much more of it all and the fact that Harry was with her was the cherry on top.

Much too soon for her liking, they were back in front of the bookstore. The ride had taken barely ten minutes and she hated it. Now, she was going to have to work and not be with Harry until dinner time. At least he promised to meet her for dinner and all the signs were pointing to him keeping that promise.

He kicked the stand down for the bike and hopped off before escorting her off gently and smoothing out the wrinkles of her dress. Even that made her antsy. He treated her like a princess and it felt so good to just be cherished and taken care of for once. The helmet slid off her after he was done and she brought him in for a sweet kiss just because she could.

"What was that for, kitten?" He whispered against her lips when they broke apart.

"Because I wanted a goodbye kiss," Hermione shyly answered, averting her eyes.

"That wasn't a goodbye kiss, princess. This," his coarse hand cupped the back of her neck and brought their lips together in a storm of passion that had her moaning into his mouth and gasping for air when he stole all of it from her lungs, "is a goodbye kiss."

Left breathless and lightheaded by him, the girl shook her head and tried to speak in order to abide by his rules for her but he stopped her with a gentle shake of his head. His warm and gentle side was out now as he got ready to send her off to work.

"I'll see you at seven tonight, babe," he said and then brushed his lips on her forehead. Hermione nearly skipped on her way to the bookstore before she felt a little spank on her rear again when she turned around. "Enjoy your day, my good girl." Harry shot her a flirty wink before donning his helmet and mounting his bike once more.

Even after he pulled off and the roar of his bike echoed down the street as he departed, Hermione was pretty sure she could still feel his possessive hand on her bum when she finally entered the store. Sighing like a teenaged schoolgirl, she couldn't resist swooning at the mere thought of her new…whatever Harry was.

They hadn't put a label yet on their 'thing' but the commitment and promise was there. He had told her, pretty much warned her, that he would be damned if she found someone else now. Harry had declared that she belonged to him. Not with him, to him. She was his to care for, his to give multiple orgasms to, his to praise, and his to hopefully one day love.

Like he told her, Hermione remembered, she felt a familiar soreness between her thighs as she walked around. He was right, she really was going to be gingerly hobbling around the store for the day. Five spectacular sessions that brought her to orgasm six times was never not going to make her center ache. And yet, the girl would do it all again. If her body permitted, she would shag her Biker Man all day and night.

Harry's words about what he wanted to do to her in the bookshop came back in a flurry as her little wooden counter and all of the bookshelves caught her attention. Oh God, he really did lay claim to every thing in her life. How was she to focus when she could see all of the things he wanted to do to her in her shop? Her mind's eye showed the images of him bending her over the counter and impaling her on him against the shelves.

Just like that, she was in a half-aroused state again. Actually, she probably hadn't left that state since last night. Perhaps she would have to settle into her new life being wet and antsy all the time. Ignoring the ache in her lower regions, Hermione did a once over of the store to make sure nothing was out of place before finally settling into work for the day.

For the very first time, the thought of being in her shop until eleven o'clock in the night was no longer appealing. Not when she had a Biker Man waiting for her so he could take her home and have his way with her. Work just was not appealing anymore.

———

Hours later when the sun had fallen and night had risen around five, Hermione was still unfocused even as the shop saw good business. Thoughts of Biker Man ran rampant in her head and had been doing so since she started her shift. No matter which part of the store she went to, Harry's rough hand was firmly on her arse and his demanding words were constantly in her head. Even without physically being there, he consumed her. Three times Hermione had to look around just to make sure her body and mind wasn't confusing her and that he was, in fact, with his crew.

As the lull of the day started to come by and few customers entered the shop, Hermione decided to keep track of her thoughts in her work diary. It was the one she kept when nothing was really happening and she was bored. Putting her thoughts from head to paper was a form of therapy for her that let her clear her mind.

Dear Diary,

I've recently begun an intensely hot, passionate, and physical…

The girl paused at that last bit. Their relationship certainly had physical aspects. Absolutely amazing physical aspects but wasn't, by itself, physical. It couldn't be. Harry laid out his terms and promised her that he would stay with her for as long as she wanted him to. Add to that the fact that he took such good care of her and treated her like a princess, and Hermione was certain that their relationship wasn't just physical. She decided to amend her diary.

Dear Diary,

I've recently begun an intensely, ridiculously, spectacularly hot, passionate, and wonderful relationship with a man straight out of one of those novels I read late at night.

Hermione giggled to herself. Her Biker Man put those fictional men to shame. It was one thing to read about those men…err…sexually pleasing their women but it was a whole other thing to experience it firsthand. Her fictional men would never be able to compare again. No man, real or fictional, compared to Harry J. Potter. That was another thing.

I don't even know his middle name :) All I know is that he's Harry J. Potter, Biker Man. Oh, and he's intelligent too. He reads and is knowledgeable in Shakespeare, Greek Mythology, and Dante's works from the looks of it.

Memories of him searching for his book and taking particular interest in ancient literature came back to her. She remembered watching his thick fingers gently caress the spine of her collection on Homer and Dante. That was probably what started to get her hot and bothered. He could be doing the most menial of things and look so brilliantly sexy doing it.

He's so bloody hot, apologies for my language, and makes me feel things in *that* area like no one else has done before. None of my exes have ever done that. Not Viktor, not Michael, not Neville.

Thinking of all the boys she had relationships with in the past, Hermione realized that none of them measured up to the new man in her life. She was not being charitable to any of them but she wasn't lying when she said none of them knew her body and her desires like Harry did. And Harry had entered her life not even twenty-four hours ago.

Did I tell you about his nicknames for me? He calls me 'kitten', 'princess', his good girl, and 'babe'. Needless to say that those are all so hot. He makes me feel so special and those eyes, those marvelous green eyes, show that he truly believes that I'm all of those things to him.

It wasn't right to keep comparing him to all of her other boyfriends but she couldn't stop herself. Her exes never had nicknames for her and, yes, they were caring and sometimes affectionate but not to the same level Harry was. The closest amount of affection outside of sex and snogging from them were nonexistent.

With Harry, she already felt his affection and care for her when they weren't having sex. Like earlier in the morning when he made breakfast for her and let her curl up on his lap. Or even before that when he took her to her bathtub after their second round and rubbed her body down to help her recover. Those were little enough things but huge in the context that none of her partners had ever done that before.

All this to say that I have been thinking about him all day even now at work. He's taken over such a huge part of my life now and it's only been one night. I don't know how to stop him from doing that. I don't want to seem weird, obsessed, clingy, or starved of affection

Her pen stopped working at that moment as Hermione thought about her actions and behaviour. If Harry was afraid of commitment like her exes all were, he would have shown it. She didn't think he cared about her clinginess given that he agreed to stay and then very effectively proved that he owned her body and soul.

He keeps telling me that I'm his and that I belong to him. Normally, that would sound scary and even insulting but my Biker Man has a way with his words. Just because he's said those things and then proved them doesn't mean he doesn't respect me. In fact, he dropped me off to work today and is picking me up for dinner and after my shift is up.

Consent. That was another thing that showed the respect Harry had for. He had stressed to her repeatedly that consent mattered to them both and that he would never do anything without her permission. Even during their first encounter in her kitchenette right after work, he nearly begged her to give him the go-ahead so to speak. If there was one thing she was certain of, it was that Harry respected her.

And he was a really possessive man. That was fine with her.

Did I also mention that he said he had other people before me? That makes me jealous and I know it's stupid because I've had people too but…I don't know. If I had met Harry earlier, maybe things would be different. I didn't know I was starving until I got my first taste of him.

Judging from his firm assertion that she belonged to him, Hermione guessed that he was just as hungry for her and only just realized it after they met. His expertise in sex, however, still somewhat ground her gears together. The fact that other women had gotten to experience him like that was annoying. Like he said, though, those people were in the past and their new relationship was the present.

No use thinking about the past and being jealous that Harry had his past the way she did hers.

Anyways, I've tried everything to concentrate and get him off my mind but he's just always there. It's kind of scary but also…nice, I think. He makes me weak in the knees, and makes my knickers damp. More than that, though, he actually wasn't lying when he said I belonged to him.

Her body was the piano and Harry was the pianist. He was something like Rachmaninoff with how masterful he played her body. Large hands, thick fingers, gentle but roughened touches. Her Biker Man didn't need sight to play with her body, his touch was like him reading braille all over her.

Touch wasn't all he used as well. That deep and rumbly voice of his sent shivers down her spine. It sounded almost exactly like his motorcycle's engine. The words that came from it too were also mind blowing.

So many things about sex have been introduced to me by him. He actually *talks* during it. He praises me when he's…umm…inside me. Sometimes he tells me to climax too. And all of that makes sex with him that much better.

Oh, she had lost track of what the original purpose of writing in the diary was. It was to clear her mind from Harry and it didn't work. Now she had even more thoughts about him. Frustration filled her. She missed him already. She ached for his touch again. Damn, he had turned her into a sex addict.

Just the thought of him filling her again with his length and then the warmth of his release made her soaked. Her cheeks were flushed and pinkened when the memories of him doing just that came back in full flow. The little stinging pain down there wasn't helping either. It was a reminder of what they got up to last night.

"I see someone had a very nice night last night," a new customer said in her greeting. It was an older woman, probably close to her mother's age, and Hermione blushed crimson at the suggestive statement. "Oh, dear, there's nothing to be ashamed of."

Giggling sheepishly, the girl nodded lightly. "I'm sorry, I didn't hear you come in. I was," she sighed dreamily, "lost in thought."

"No worries, dearie. I see your man has left quite the impression on you," the lady replied, winking good naturedly.

That was the understatement of the new millennium. That man did just not leave an impression, he left an imprint. A mark. A symbol. Hermione had to agree with her new customer. "You can say that. He's very much left his mark."

The lady chuckled heartily at that. "I can certainly see that. The marks on your neck tell the story." Brown eyes went as wide as they'd ever gone. She'd forgotten to mask the handprint and hickeys on her neck. They had both been in such a state when they left home that she'd missed the marks. "Quite the possessive bloke, isn't he?"

"You have no idea," agreed Hermione before tentatively rising from her seat behind the counter with a little wince of pain.

———

Thoughts of his sweet kitten had not left Harry's mind since he dropped her off. For the four hours since he left her, his pants had felt tight in the crotch as his length strained against the denim. The cold shower he'd taken in the clubhouse had not helped the problem and no matter how much he busied himself with his crew, the little minx found a way into his head.

Even now after he dropped the confession that he was going to fly steady around the city to the club, all Harry could think about was picking his princess up for dinner and having a quick shag or two. The damn girl had gotten him hooked on her. He felt like a horny teenager all over again.

With a set of clothes packed in his duffel and a new outfit donned specifically to make Hermione wet, Harry bade the crew goodbye and told them he would return after his dinner date before leaving to pick her up again from work. Ron, Dean, and Seamus were quick to rib him and declare him 'pussy whipped' once he told them that but he didn't care one bit. He definitely was pussy whipped and proud of it too.

Hooking the duffel to the back of his bike and retrieving one of the smaller helmets Seamus' old girlfriend used to wear along with the pistol that Hermione didn't know he had with him last night, Harry wasted no time in departing the club's rented house and headed into the city. Yeah, he missed his sweet kitten. Damn girl had gotten him attached after one night. Who would have thought? If his godfather could see him now, the man would be laughing his arse off. Bloody git.

The journey back to Hermione's store was not too long and there was little traffic, thank goodness. He arrived at the storefront in record time but what he saw next made his blood boil. Harry cursed her store for having such large and clean windows because they were permitting him the view of her conversing with some thickheaded arsehole with sandy blonde hair.

But before he could overreact and let the dark shadow of his mind gain control over his body, he saw that his princess didn't look comfortable at all with whoever the new patron of her store was. A wave of protectiveness filled in the gap left by his raging jealousy after it had departed. He decided not to retrieve the gun from his duffel and settled to enter the store without it. No need to kill the guy. Yet.

Harry smoothly walked through the door with Hermione's helmet in tow and raised his hand in greeting. When she didn't do the same and instead nervously looked at her customer then to him, his mood sharpened up considerably. Whoever this fucker was, he was making Kitten anxious.

"Who are you staring at, Hermione?" The blonde man inquired innocently, unaware that the man behind him was having trouble not ripping him apart. Then, he turned around to reveal his slightly pudgy but stubbled face to Harry's own. "Oh, who are you?"

Self control was starting to look impassive but Harry managed to bite back a scathing reply as he nodded at Hermione. "Her boyfriend," he answered the question. He didn't care that he was declaring himself to be something that he hadn't asked her to be yet. Their relationship wasn't defined as of yet but it didn't matter to him.

"You didn't say that you had a boyfriend," blondie said after rounding on Hermione.

Before Harry could bite out a venomous reply, she spoke up first. "Yes, well, he's my new boyfriend and we're supposed to be going out for dinner on my break." He had to beam with pride at how confidently his kitten said those words. It was like his presence alone eliminated her discomfort and allowed her to tell blondie she wasn't interested.

"Oh…" the customer shook his head sadly with a kicked puppy-like look on his face. Harry enjoyed that a bit too much. It was taking everything in him not to give the arsehole a lesson to remember in who Hermione belonged to so he had to derive pleasure from small victories.

"You ready, babe?" He asked afterward, grinning lopsidedly at her with an impish wink to boot.

"Yes, Harry." She was back in her role as Kitten with those words. Those same words that told him that she belonged to him. And how great it was that she said it in front of whoever that bloke was. "Sorry, Neville. I don't want to miss my break." The fuck was she apologizing for? She was too bloody nice. There was nothing to apologize for. She had plans and didn't want to miss them. Simple as.

Those thoughts stayed in his head as she walked up to him with a bright smile and took her helmet, murmuring her gratitude that he had brought her a smaller one. Neville, apparently that was this guy's name, shuffled away awkwardly and exited the store without a word.

"You know that guy?" Harry questioned stonily once only they were left in the store.

"Yes, he was my…" she started to kick her feet and take a sudden interest in the carpeted floor of the shop. Displeased, he took her chin and tilted it up firmly so she could meet his eyes. The eyes that were warning her to speak up. "…my ex boyfriend."

So the bastard was trying to start something up again and Hermione denied him. She was also uncomfortable around him until he had arrived. Okay, that was all fine. Harry couldn't get mad at any of that. His princess didn't deserve to be punished for an awkward situation. What she did deserve, however, was a chance to forget that 'Neville' even existed in the first place.

"Put on your helmet and go outside," he instructed gently enough to let her know he wasn't mad. As she turned to leave, his hand went down with medium force on her soft rear to push her forward. "Good girl." That made her tremble and her thighs press together to alleviate the pressure he knew she was feeling in her pussy.

Plans had changed again. They weren't going to have dinner until after her shift. He would probably bring her food when he picked her up again. Now though, he was going to take her to a secluded spot and fuck the memory of her ex boyfriend out of her.

She slung onto him like a backpack and his heart melted when he heard her breathless sigh as her body pressed against his. He had no doubts that she wanted him more than her ex now but still had to erase the memory of the git. It would be like a reward for her anyway. He kicked off a moment later and decided to find a secluded spot rather than a place to eat.

The little park just outside the shopping centre her store was in proved to be perfect as Harry rode around it to find a dark corner. Hermione was buzzing with curiosity but said nothing the entire time, making him smile behind his helmet. Minutes later, he found what he decided was going to be a good spot. It was late at night and it appeared to be a walking trail bracketed by trees.

"Harry?" Hermione's muffled and confused voice called him questioningly.

Sliding his helmet off, he gestured for her to do the same with nothing more than a frosty gaze. She handed hers to him and he took his time slinging them on to the handlebars securely. All of it went by without words and he knew Hermione was dying with bewilderment. It almost made him smile at her but he had to keep up the act.

"Do you still want this?" Harry spoke up again after a few moments passed them by,

"What? Of course I do. Neville means nothing," said Hermione quickly, resolute.

That was exactly what he wanted to hear but her suddenly fearful demeanor broke his heart just a little bit. He decided to get underway with his plans instead and pulled her to him, roughly bruising their lips together. Hands found her plump rear, kneading the cushiony flesh and making her gasp.

"W—what are…" Harry hushed her with his finger on her lips.

"Be a good girl and take me." He spun her around, bunching the hem of her dress up at her waist and pushing her over his bike. Kicking her legs apart, Harry bent down to kiss her shoulder again and whisper, "I want to fuck you on my bike."

"We're in public," she complained as he started to hook his fingers under the waistband of her tights.

The tights were nearly ripped off as he yanked them down to reveal her voluptuous bum and the soaked cotton of her knickers. Fuck. "Don't care."

Wintry winds scourged his cock when he fished them out of his jeans and Harry was in no mood to tease. In one motion, he positioned his cock at Hermione's warmth and took a harsh grip on her waist. "Take me, kitten. Hold on tight," he warned.

Her scream shook the trees around him the exact second he slid home past her entrance. Not even caring that they could be heard, Harry fucked into her hard and tore several broken screams from her throat. He gave her no chance to recover with sharp and brutal thrusts that threatened to knock his bike over.

"H—Har—Harry." That only made him go harder, drive into her faster. The sweet pussy he was beginning to need like nothing else contracted around him and made him nearly grind his teeth to dust. Cries of his name soon turned into choked gasps and Harry fucking loved it.

Then, he changed his motions and pulled all the way out before yanking her back at the same time he thrusted in. He met her arse halfway with a resounding slap of their skin and spanked her as her pussy gushed slick all over him.

"So good, kitten," Harry praised, knowing that his sweet princess loved when he talked to her. She clenched around him again and started biting her knuckles helplessly. Wrenching her arm back to hear her voice, he told her, "I don't give a fuck if anyone hears us. I want them all to know whose cock you're coming on." Another jarring swat reddened her cheek

He was losing his mind with this girl. She was his. No one else's. The fact that they had only known each other for one night didn't matter. Only he could get to feel her pussy tighten around his cock. Only he could hear her scream for him and moan like he was the best thing to ever happen to her.

Fingers dug into her hips, undoubtedly leaving his mark, and held her arse higher for him to hit deeper. Harry didn't even stutter as his hips slammed against her with savage force. Her ex wanted to start something up again? Fine. Hermione wasn't going to be able to walk straight for the next couple of days because of that.

Their skin slapping together was music to his ears and fueled his raging cock to split her apart. He wanted to fuck his imprint into her pussy, permanently change it so only his cock could be inside it. Somewhere along the primal fucking, Hermione went quiet and struggled to breathe.

The velvety smoothness of her tightness started to spasm over him. That familiar tightening in his lower gut and in his balls started to burgeon. Harry decided to slow it down, drawing out to deliver punishing thrusts that knocked his kitten forward. Intoxicated groans escaped her as he rammed himself balls deep over and over.

"Come for me, kitten. You're being such a good girl," Harry whispered through a sick smile. Hermione cried lowly and then yelped as his cock speared into her again. The motorbike rattled with the force and the once creamy skin on her arse was now burgundy. "I love that you're so good for me. My Hermione, my good girl."

His praise did the trick and she came apart on him, pussy strangling his cock before he followed her off the edge with one final thrust. By the time his cock finished shooting out the final jet of his cum, he had fallen over her in exhaustion.

Whispered kisses on her shoulder and neck followed their climaxes and they began a rapid descent from their high as the night air became cooler. Their return to the real world sparked the return of rational thinking. At least on Harry's part. He hadn't meant to be so rough with Hermione but he'd lost control.

"How are you feeling, kitten?" He murmured into her hair as they remained in their position.

Her breaths were low and hollow but she reached up behind her to comb through his sweat soaked hair affectionately. He hoped his relief didn't show too much at that. "I'm sore but in a good way."

"I didn't push you too hard?" Harry asked again, suddenly unsure of himself around her. He went to stand up and pull out of her but her hand turned insistent on his hair to keep him in place.

"I liked it. But you don't need to worry about Neville. He's nothing to me now." The genuineness of her words was hard to miss. It made him grin widely as happiness bowled through him. His kitten still belonged to him and she knew it. "Though, if you're going to do that to me when you get jealous, I think I might try to get you like that more often."

"Careful, kitten. I might just tie you down and fuck you all night for that," warned Harry but secretly wanting her to tempt him.

"You can do whatever you want to me, Harry. I'm yours," Hermione declared.

Fuck. He stood up and pulled out of her in quick succession before spinning her around and taking her lips again. She was his. He had told her and she had told him that she was his good girl but this time was different. Hermione was his. She knew it. She admitted it. Fuck yeah. He was hers too.

"I'm yours too, babe, for however long you want me around. I know I want to stay with you." The words were low after they broke apart but no less meaningful. Harry had suspicions that Hermione didn't quite believe him when he agreed to stay and try this new relationship with her and he hoped now that her doubts were put to rest.

It was a snap decision and one that someone could say was made in the heat of the moment but even now, nearly a full day after they met and had each other, Harry still remained firm in his resolve to be with Hermione. Not only was his jealousy of any other man getting to be with her still strong, but his need to make her feel safe and cherished was also burning brightly.

Musical laughter broke him out of his reverie. Hermione had started laughing heartily, drawing his befuddlement. He wordlessly asked her what was going on. "My break is over, Harry."

"We didn't get any food," he noted with a sheepish smile. It wasn't in his plans to get food anyway but the hilarity of the situation was understandable. They had traded food for breathtaking sex.

"Food for sex," his kitten threw her arms around his neck and pecked his nose lovingly, "I think I like that trade a lot."

"Me too," Harry agreed, grinning like a madman. They shared one more little kiss before breaking apart for him to tell her, "I'll bring some food when I pick you up and we can eat at your place."

"And maybe you can stay the night and the whole weekend since I don't work?" Hermione asked hopefully with teeth worrying her bottom lip. She had no idea of how much he wanted to ruin her when she got shy and did that thing where she chewed on her bottom lip. He had to order his erection to stand down.

Cupping her cheeks and holding her gaze, Harry nodded his response. A whole two days with her tomorrow was too good not to pass up. If he did that, he was going to be the biggest idiot in the galaxy. The amount of times he would get to have her tomorrow and the day after was going to probably leave him sore and give him a heart attack but he couldn't wait.

"I already have a set of clothes with me like you asked, love. But be careful with what you wish for," he told her tauntingly and then started to nibble on the shell of her ear as his hands went back to her arse.

"Why should I…ohhh…be careful?" her response came out through a hitched moan.

Harry's response came after he sunk his teeth into the side of her neck and slapped her bum just because he could. "Because I'm going to fuck you for two days straight in every part of your flat, kitten."

"Promise?"