Hermione expected to feel panic as Voldemort rolled on top of her, but instead, she was just utterly frustrated. She knew how powerful he was, but that he was able to disarm her so easily while she had him cornered still hurt. The ease with which he commanded magic made her jealous like nothing before.
"Fine, you win," she growled. "Now can you please explain what your problem is?"
He still smiled that obnoxious smile that told her how much he looked down on her. It would take a lot of time and effort to make him respect her even the tiniest bit. Grinding her teeth, she just stared at him, unwilling to give him anything else.
"I agree, my sweet. Enough tumbling around your room for one day, mh?"
He actually got up as he said that and held out a hand to help her up as well. She was tempted to slap it away, but instead, she gracefully placed her hand in his and allowed him to pull her on her feet. Determined to ignore the fact that she was almost naked, she gave him a small smile. She should return to playing the malleable seductive woman. If only she wasn't so exhausted.
"Come," Voldemort told her and pulled her with him, still holding her hand, "I think what you need right now is a hot shower to wash off the unpleasant time you spent with Severus."
She swallowed. "You want to … shower? Together?"
He stopped, hand already on the door leading to her bathroom, and turned to look at her. "I can wash your hair and massage your shoulders if we go together. Isn't that what you need right now?"
She let go of his hand and just stared at him. This was just as absurd as Bellatrix Lestrange defending her, if not more. What was even happening? Just a moment ago, he was mad at her for something, and now he wanted to shower with her? The worst part was that a massage under hot water sounded exactly like what she craved most at this very moment. She blinked.
"If you want to fuck me, there is a perfectly good bed right there," she told him, trying to sound both defiant and challenging.
He chuckled. "Oh, believe me, I'd love nothing more, my sweet. But that's not what I have in mind right now. Truly. I just want to offer you my services."
He opened the door to the bathroom, but instead of entering, he turned around and stepped very close to her. She licked her lips as she craned her neck to meet his gaze. Those strange eyes held an intensity that made her shiver. They didn't betray any thoughts he might have, as he was simply standing there, waiting for her answer.
She would be lying if she said she wasn't intrigued to see this man naked. His curious body, created through a dark ritual, was fascinating to her. Harry had always described him as repulsive and alien, but that was not what she saw. All she could see when she looked at him was raw power given expression through a not-quite-human body. She wanted to touch him more, explore every inch of his strangely grey skin.
She bit her lip. Those were not the right thoughts in this situation. Those were not the right thoughts in any situation. He was the great enemy, the monster she swore to defeat, and even though she didn't know – yet – why he wanted her here, she was convinced that she would find a way to destroy him if she just kept her eyes open. She needed to play the part of woman who was as convincingly seductive as she was easily seduced; she did not need to actually be that.
"Then I shall receive them gladly," she finally replied. Trying to find her mature self again, she gingerly placed one hand on his cheek and stepped closer until their bodies almost touched.
Without taking his eyes off her, Voldemort gently grabbed her hand and turned his head. His snake-like eyes bored into hers with an intensity that made her shiver in fear and anticipation. A smile flitted across his lips just as he pulled her hand down ever so slightly. Then, he sucked two fingers into his mouth with a hungry expression in his gaze that held unspoken promises.
Hermione's breath caught in her throat. She could only stare. And feel. His tongue swiped over her two fingers once, then slid between them, parting them, applying pressure that hinted at pleasure yet to come. Heat spread over her face as forbidden images flashed in her mind.
He hummed softly before letting go of her fingers again. They slid out between his lips, all warm and wet, but he did not let go of her hand. Instead, he turned around and pulled her to the bath.
Hermione's mind was racing, trying to catch up to what was happening, but she was still lost in the feeling of his tongue gently pressing between her fingers. She had to suppress a moan just from remembering how that felt. Heat travelled through her body, trapping her in the seductive web of the most powerful wizard she had ever seen. She wanted this man.
But more than that, she wanted to be wanted by him.
It was not simply his touch or the feel of his tongue or the strange connection his magic formed with her aura that coaxed her into his arms. It was this one thought. She saw it more clearly now, despite being caught in his arms.
Wouldn't it be glorious to have this man worship her?
She swallowed, barely registering him pulling down her knickers. His power was seductive, yes. Bringing him to his knees, consumed by his want for her, would be exhilarating beyond anything she ever felt.
"Whatever you're thinking in that pretty little head of yours, it ends now." His low voice pulled her out of her quiet fantasy.
He gave a short shrug and in one fluid motion, his robes pooled around his feet, exposing that he was not wearing anything under them. Hermione's heart hammered in her chest as her gaze travelled down the length of his tall body. His skin was just as strange under his clothes, in parts so white it almost appeared translucent, in others a grey that seemed unnatural. Not a single hair covered his body.
Licking her lips, she took a small step forward and reached out one hand. She wanted to touch him. She had felt his skin before, but never stopped to really explore what it felt like. Her eyes snapped up, seeking his gaze. Voldemort returned the look, watching her with an indulgent smile that could not fully mask the hunger in his eyes. He wanted her to touch him, that much was clear.
Slowly, gently, she placed just her fingertips on his flat stomach. His skin felt cool to her touch and she could see his muscles flex just as he let out a quiet hiss. Without looking up again, she let her fingers travel over his stomach, first to the left, then to the right, drinking in the feel of his too smooth skin. It was like touching silk, or maybe marble. Too smooth to be human skin, too cool to house a human body.
She let out a shuddering breath and forced herself to pull her hand back again. She was too fascinated with him, showing too much of what she was actually feeling openly. He would take advantage of that, she already knew.
"Come," he hummed just then, "we have all the time in the world to explore each other."
She let him pull her into the spacious shower, fighting the heat that crept into her cheeks as she remembered that she was just as naked as him. Something about this felt intimate in a way that made her both shiver from anxiety and tremble with anticipation.
He placed her under the shower head and reached behind her to open the faucet. This was another thing Hermione found she liked about the manor: the water had exactly the temperature she wanted the moment it touched her skin. Others might find it too hot and she knew her hair and scalp would prefer something milder, but she relished the relaxation the hot stream of water on her shoulders offered.
Voldemort stepped closer and gently took her head in both of his hands. She allowed him to slightly tilt her head until the water cascaded over her whole hair. Slowly, her unruly curls gave in, deflating, soaking in the hot water. When every strand was wet, he cautiously slid his fingers into the wet tangled mess and started massaging her head.
She barely caught the moan that wanted to escape her lips and had to place her hands on his chest to steady herself. "For someone with so little hair, you sure know how to work with it."
He chuckled. "I've not always been this way, my sweet."
Lazily, she glanced up at him. "Do you prefer this body?"
Voldemort stopped momentarily, but then resumed the gentle massage. "It has its advantages."
Maybe it was because she was so close to him. Or maybe because she had spent most of her days in his close proximity now. But she knew from his tone that he was not fully honest with that statement, just as she knew that he would not say more on that topic now. She made a mental note of that. Anything that brought him discomfort was worth noticing.
He applied shampoo and conditioner with the same ease as he ran his fingers through her hair. With every stroke, Hermione relaxed more. Steam rose and turned the shower cabin into an opaque cubicle, shutting out the rest of the world. Voldemort stayed quiet for most of it, his attention entirely focused on her.
When the last bit of shampoo was washed away, he pulled her closer, pressing her against his chest so that the stream of water hit her back. Then he started working on her taught muscles around her neck and shoulders. This time, she could not suppress a relieved groan. Slowly but surely, any tension she felt left her body.
Here she stood, naked in Voldemort's arms, and all she could think about were his dexterous fingers and the feel of his smooth skin against hers. She let her eyes drift close and slung her arms around his waist, focusing completely on his hands as they slowly travelled down her back.
She felt him make a step and followed, realising he meant to turn them. She opened her eyes again. As she looked up, his flaming hot gaze caught her. Any relaxation instantly evaporated. She licked her lips. She knew what that look could only mean.
"On your knees, darling," he whispered as he pushed down on her shoulders.
Before she knew what she was doing, she followed the order. His right hand cupped her cheek as his left closed around his cock, bringing to her attention how hard he already was.
"Open up." The command was short, but she heard the thickness in his voice that betrayed his need.
Something deep inside her purred in response. This was what she wanted. Kneeling in front of him, she would bring him to his knees with just her mouth. Smiling brightly, she followed his words, opening her mouth as wide as she could and sticking out her tongue.
"Good girl," he growled and she whined with desire in return.
He was heavy on her tongue, hard and hot, so much hotter than the rest of his body. She opened up wider, letting him slip between her lips. Hesitantly, she sucked him deeper, hollowing her cheeks while flattening her tongue against him. Both of his hands grabbed her wet hair, tangling it between his fingers. She could tell from the way that his fingers pulled on her that he had a hard time holding back.
Good.
Steadying herself with both hands on his hips, she leaned forward more, taking him even deeper. She had only ever done this in the body of another, but a part of her seemed to instinctively know what to do. Breathing through her nose, her eyes closed, she focused completely on the way he felt in her mouth and the sounds he made in response to every little action she took.
As she started bobbing her head, she glanced upwards, observing him through her lashes. His eyes were closed and his head leaned back while water was cascading down his back. She was sure that he didn't notice how his slightly open mouth betrayed his extasy. He barely moved and clearly tried to suppress the quiet groans that escaped his lips each time she moved her head forward. The crease between his brows and the tension in his fingers told her everything she needed to know.
This was not a man in control.
Hermione swallowed several times, preparing herself to take him even deeper. Steam continued to cloud the shower cabin, but she felt herself grow even hotter from deep within. An insistent throbbing between her legs demanded her attention, demanded her to bring her own fingers down, but she resisted the temptation. She was here to prove a point.
She took a deep breath in through her nose. Then, she angled her head slightly differently, trying to remember what he did to her when she was in Lestrange's body. Swallowing against her gag reflex, she let him slide over her tongue, all the way into her mouth. Deeper still, down her throat, she focused all her senses on only this goal.
For a second, she felt panic rise in her as her body realised that she could no longer breathe. But she fought it down, relishing in the way his fingers gripped her hair harder. She allowed herself to glance up again.
This time, his eyes were on her. The usually small slits of his pupils were blown wide, glittering with a fire that made her groan around his cock in her throat. His face spoke of pure desire and nothing could hide that from her.
If she didn't have her mouth full, she would have smirked. For all the games this wizard played with her, at the end of the day, he still was a man. She knew little about sex, but in this, she was very sure of herself. Whatever desire she felt for him was nothing when compared to his need for her.
Slowly, she leaned back again, desperate to breathe. As soon as she filled her lungs, she took him again, finding a rhythm that allowed her to take breaths in between. His eyes never left her face, his mouth now a harsh line as he so obviously struggled to keep quiet. She could feel his thighs under her hands flex, could see the muscles around his neck grow taught and hard. He was barely containing himself.
The next time she let him slide down her throat, the hummed a little, the vibrations running along his cock. She could feel him pulse in time with the pull on her hair growing painful.
Then, his eyes flashed red. Before she knew what was happening, he pulled her away and up, slamming her against she shower wall, one hand around her throat, the other still tangled in her hair.
"Enough, little witch," he hissed, his eyes blazing with a rage that sent a shiver down her spine. "We shouldn't forget about your pleasure, now, should we?"
The sneer on his face did not bode well for her. And yet, despite his angry aura, Hermione could feel heat pool between her legs.