The ballroom was too small for the number of people who had shown up for the party. It was so crowded that it was difficult to walk without bumping into someone, and the scent of perfume and sweat was giving Hermione a headache. She had taken to glancing at the large clock that hung over the doors to the balcony every few minutes to see if she had stayed a respectable amount of time.

Unfortunately, her glances at the clock just made the time drag by slowly. She planned to stay an hour, believing that that was enough time to please her boss, who insisted she attend in the first place, and make an appearance. Her work in the Research and Development department didn’t often bring her into contact with many other employees at the company; she did a lot of work from home or spent her entire day in her private laboratory so she didn’t recognize many familiar faces at all. That just added to her desire to leave as soon as politely possible.

The party had already caused enough disruption to her life. After she’d received the invitation with a handwritten note from her boss, Hermione had had to go buy suitable dress robes as she didn’t have anything adequate in her wardrobe. The unexpected cost was covered easily enough but she hated spending money on something she’d only wear once. There had been a refresher of several beauty charms that she’d ended up not even using that evening. Then there had been the fight with her lover.

Since his unexplained and entirely unexpected return from the Veil four years ago, Sirius Black had avoided crowds. When he was around groups of people, he was usually bombarded with questions about prison, his disappearance, or his return. None of these were things he wanted to discuss with his few friends much less total strangers, so he just tended to avoid situations where he’d be around large groups. If he was in a store or walking down the street, a slight curl of his lip or sharp look from his gray eyes would stop most people from speaking to him. A setting such as this tended to be overwhelming to him and his behavior, already unpredictable even on the best days, would reflect his disapproval.

Maybe, if he really had to, he could tolerate the crowd for a short while, of course. He was very handsome, after all, and had the ability to be one of the most charming men Hermione had ever met when he bothered to be genial. Sirius had no idea where he had been for those years he’d been trapped in the Veil. He’d told her all he could remember was darkness and cold, much like his time at Azkaban. The majority of his life had been spent locked away in the cold dark so she understood why he was the way he was now.

Since he’d returned from the Veil, he’d regained the weigh he’d lost in prison, though he was still too skinny compared to the photos she’d seen of him as a teenager. His hair was longer than it had been, falling down his back and nearly reaching his arse, and it made him look younger than his forty-five years. He was striking; whenever he went out there were always second and third glances from most women and even a few men, and they had little to do with him being the Sirius Black. He lacked the easy arrogance of his youth, though, and didn’t seem to enjoy the admiring glances his way as he once would have done.

Her involvement with him had been a shock to her as much as it had been to anyone else. She’d never particularly cared for him before, believing him to be a rash, foolish, daring man who gave no thought to the consequences of his actions and who was entirely too selfish and smug for his own good. She had been a teenager at that time, of course, but she hadn’t changed very much in that respect. Sirius was different since returning from the Veil, more complicated and moody with a slight darkness that she shamefully had to admit appealed to her; however, he was still quite a lot like the man she’d always thought was too immature and reckless, so she'd never intended to become involved with him..

It was Harry’s fault, really. He’d asked her to do some research after Sirius returned and she’d never been able to tell Harry no. She’d met with him several times and hadn’t been able to ignore that there was something between them, a spark of some sort that left her knees weak, her heart racing, and her mind confused. She’d never felt lust before. She’d fancied Ron and they’d given it a go before ending things amicably, but she’d never wanted the way she had during those meetings.

She’d been twenty-one and hadn’t been a virgin, but her few clumsy experiences with Ron hadn’t prepared her for Sirius. He was far from clumsy and one casual brush of his fingertip against her hand when he handed her a quill was enough to make her cheeks flush and her body react. It had become embarrassing, if she were completely honest, because she couldn’t hide her reaction to him and it confused her in a very frustrating way. Six months after his return, she’d somehow found herself pushed against the table with her notes on the floor, ink spilled, and him buried inside her.

What she had assumed was a one off, as she hadn’t been able to believe someone like Sirius would want anything more from her, had become a relationship: a tumultuous, passionate, unpredictable, and never the less secure relationship. With him, she learned the true meaning of passion, of need and desire that extended beyond just the physical. It was a meeting of minds as well as bodies, their debates and arguments and discussions just as arousing as making love and fucking. He needed her in ways she didn’t quite understand and she needed him in more ways than she’d ever imagined. He was possessive, moody, impulsive, sometimes volatile but never violent, and he made her feel as if she was the only woman in the world when he looked at her in a certain way.

Hermione sighed as she glanced at the clock and saw that once again only five minutes had passed. She hadn’t intended to get lost in thoughts of Sirius. Their argument was still fresh, though, and she felt tense as she walked among these familiar strangers. It had happened last night, surprising her since she thought everything had been arranged, and she’d not spoken to him since.

It had seemed straightforward enough: this parrt was mandatory for her, so she'd wanted him to come along. It wasn't that she couldn't go alone, and she'd been sure to point that out so he didn’t feel as if he had to agree simply to please her. She'd also pointed out that attending with him would be more enjoyable, but that she respected his dislike of crowds. He had thought about it for a few days before telling her he’d attend with her as long as they only had to stay briefly. Then, last night, he’d suddenly announced that he didn’t want to go and didn’t want her to go, either. He’d been stubborn and surly, refusing to acknowledge that she had to be there for work, and he’d stormed out finally in the way she knew would result in him going to the Muggle pub down the street.

He’d come home in the middle of the night smelling of rum and tobacco, which meant he'd been smoking, a filthy habit he’d picked up again since being back from the Veil. He didn’t get drunk anymore, not to a point where he wasn’t in control as control was very important to him since his return, but he drunk well and hard until he wasn’t entirely sober.

They hadn’t spoken when he’d crawled into bed beside her, but he’d wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close as his breath had warmed her neck. There were never any apologies in their relationship. There really couldn’t be considering they were both stubborn and passionate and often had fights that usually ended in rough shagging or quiet embraces.

It was one of the many reasons they made sense to her but seemed to confuse everyone else who was used to more gentle relationships. There was nothing gentle about her and Sirius, not even when they made love. It was always intense, always passionate, and even the tender caresses had an underlying strength that aroused them both.

When she’d woken that morning, he’d been gone and so had his motorcycle. He’d probably gone to see Remus and Tonks or possibly to visit Andromeda and Ted, though there was a chance he’d simply gone driving to clear his head as he was apt to do when he needed to think. She knew he could take care of himself, of course, but she still worried when he went off without word, especially when it was after a fight where they’d both said things simply to get at each other.

In the heat of the moment, she’d suggested she’d just find someone at the party to entertain her since she’d be alone, which was something she’d never consider. She loved Sirius regardless of the fact she rarely ever said the words and she knew he felt the same way about her. He’d not reacted well to her false claim and she couldn’t even remember what he’d said in reply, but it had just escalated things until they were both shouting and he’d stormed out leaving her in near tears.

If he wasn’t home by the time she left this party, she’d worry, she decided. For now, she still had at least twenty minutes before she could sneak away. She wished she’d worn something else. The dress robes she had finally chosen were a dark blue with silver trim and very becoming on her, but they were more revealing than what she’d have chosen if she’d known she’d be attending alone.

The robe had been chosen because Sirius had a fondness for her breasts. Since he’d agreed to attend with her, she’d thought a sexy robe might make it worth his while. She'd felt attractive when she'd first tried on the robe and admired the cut that was sexy but subtle, the amount of leg that would be shown when she walked, and the way it flattered her hips instead of drawing attention to the fact that she was far more curvaceous than thin. The cut was low, and her cleavage was on display. However, she'd wanted Sirius to ogle her breasts, not drunken men she didn’t know and she'd grown tired of the stares at her breasts from co-workers who couldn't even look at her face when they were introduced.

Another five minutes passed before she ran into a problem. Larry from Purchasing had decided to ask her to dance and wasn’t accepting her polite ‘I don’t dance’ for an answer. He was insistent in a way that was causing her to grip her glass of wine tighter and she was considering what words to lowly mutter that would either hex him or make him realize she wasn’t interested at all. She finally just walked away so she’d avoid a scene.

He grabbed her elbow and tried to pull her onto the dance floor. She managed to shake his hand off her, glad that the place was crowded and the music was loud as she’d be embarrassed if anyone noticed this. Before she could hex him, however, a light breeze blew in from the balcony doors, which had just been opened. She glanced over and caught her breath, surprised.

Sirius was wearing faded blue jeans, a buttoned up shirt with only half the buttons fastened in a blue that was several shades lighter than her robes, and the heavy black boots he always wore when riding his motorcycle. His hair was loose, falling around his face in a way that made him, for an instant, look very much like a fallen angel. His attention was focused on her and his intensity made her shudder as she stared at him.

His gaze swept over her, surely as if he’d touched her, and her body reacted instantly. He almost looked smug when he smiled, a slight twisting of lips that would be considered predatory by many, and Hermione watched him cross the short space with a determined glide. He glanced at Larry from Purchasing in a way that made him squeak and rush away before Sirius reached her. When he looked back at her, she shivered and put down her glass of wine on a nearby table, somehow knowing she’d not have time to finish it.

“You’ve made an appearance,” he informed her after he reached her. His tone was low and firm, giving no room for arguments or her pointing out that she’d only been there forty-five minutes.

“Yes, I have,” she replied softly. She didn’t want to protest, didn’t want to fight him this time. She understood him when he got like this and her natural instinct to be in control faded as she gave him what he needed.

He arched a brow and smirked before he took her hand and led her to the balcony. The guests who had noticed him whispered as she followed him out but she didn’t care what they might be saying. Instead, she felt excitement coarse through her body as she stepped into the cool spring night air and waited with anticipation to see what he had planned.

He didn’t say another word as he raised up her robes until her garters were showing, a low growl escaping his lips as he saw how she was dressed beneath the soft fabric, and then he indicated she should straddle his motorcycle. She got onto the bike, though she wasn’t fond of it at all, and he moved behind her. When she’d ridden with him before, she’d always been in back, holding onto him and resting her cheek against his shoulder.

This was different and she wasn’t exactly sure where to put her legs. He climbed on behind her, pressed close, and she felt him against her back and arse as he leaned forward and started the motorcycle. She considered telling him that the hotel probably didn’t appreciate him parking on their balcony, but opted instead to keep her mouth shut as the engine roared to life. He drove them down the stairs to the path that led to the garden and the wind made her hair even more of a mess than usual as he picked up speed and whispered a charm that replaced a Muggle helmet with more effective magical cushioning.

Then he moved his legs, kicked this and knocked that, and she felt her stomach lurch as the motorcycle lifted into the night sky. She closed her eyes tightly and gripped the bike hard as land was left behind. She hated flying, hated heights, and this was no exception. She was thankful that it didn’t take long before the bike seemed to be headed back to the ground. She didn’t open her eyes again until they landed, and she looked around curiously as she saw they were in some sort of clearing in what looked like a pretty forest.

“Did you let him touch you?” Sirius asked suddenly, the first words he’d spoken since the party. His hands moved along her legs, beneath her robe, and his grip was tight as he questioned her.

“I most certainly did not,” she snapped, annoyed that he’d even ask such a question.

“You didn’t find someone to entertain you? Didn’t find some bloke to fuck you in the loo until you had to bite your lip to keep from screaming?” His words were uttered in a harsh, jealous tone and Hermione bit her lip when she felt his fingers move up her thighs.

“I refuse to answer such a ridiculous question,” she told him sharply, her eyes rolling back when his thumb brushed against her crotch of her knickers.

“You’re wet, love,” he murmured as he pressed harder and rubbed against her arse. “For me or for someone else, I wonder.”

“Always for you,” she whispered as she shifted on the seat of the bike.

“You shouldn’t have gone without me,” he said quietly as he slipped his thumb beneath the fabric and touched her wet cunt. “Planned to meet you at the flat but was running late. You were gone when I got there. Don’t like when you’re not there.”

“I had no idea where you were, Sirius,” she pointed out. “It's not as if I'm a mind reader."

He withdrew his hand from between her legs and got off the bike. She looked at him curiously as he pulled her off the motorcycle and moved her to stand in front of the bike. He kissed her hard, possessively, and she whimpered as she moved closer to him, her fingers tangling in his long black hair as he deepened the kiss. When he pulled back, he whispered, “You’re mine, Hermione.”

She nodded, knowing it wasn’t necessary to agree for him to know the truth of his words. She looked around the forest and realized it was too dark to be pretty at night. It was slightly foreboding, somewhat scary, and she was glad when Sirius noticed her discomfort and transfigured a few sticks into candles. Hermione looked at him, bathed in the pale glow of moonlight and now the flames of the candles casting shadows on his face, and waited to see what he had in mind.

“Face the bike, love,” he commanded quietly. She frowned but obeyed. Those who knew her well would never believe she enjoyed giving Sirius control like this, would never guess that she had a slightly submissive side that was eager to do whatever he wanted in regards to sex. “Put your hands up. Like that. Good girl.”

She gripped the handle bars and shifted as she tried to get comfortable. She was bent forward slightly, her legs spread, and she wasn’t surprised to feel Sirius pulling her robes up until they were bunched around her waist. His hands moved over her arse, fingers playing with the edges of her knickers, and she gasped when he ripped them off, her skin stinging from where the elastic had torn. Another pair gone, she knew. He kept them for some reason and never let her repair them when he ripped them off. She went through knickers at a fairly ridiculous rate because of it, which was expensive but, in its own way, satisfying.

“Sirius!” She cried out in surprise when his palm slapped her arse. He was spanking her, one of the few things they did that she felt conflicted about. She knew it was wrong to be degraded this way, but it aroused her to a point where she could nearly come just from a spanking. She'd just started to straighten up when he spoke.

“Constringo,” he purred in a husky voice that made her nearly forget he’d just bound her arms to his motorcycle. He urged her legs further apart until she was straddling the wheel and then he spanked her again. “You should see yourself, Hermione. Your arse is pink from my palm and you’re so wet that I can see it glistening on your pretty little cunt. Bent over my bike like a whore needing to be fucked, pushing back for more even as you tell yourself you hate this.”

“I hate being spanked,” she hissed even as her back arched and she felt her nipples tighten even more as he hit her arse three more times.

“Liar,” he whispered before his fingers moved between her legs. “Feel how wet you are, love? Such a dirty little whore, aren’t you? Bet you want me to fuck you here and now, just like this. Bend you over more and fuck that tight cunt until you’re keening in pleasure and shuddering around my cock.”

She didn’t reply, didn’t have to say anything. He reached around her, pressed his erection against her arse and tore the front of her robes open so he could reach her breasts. His wet fingers tugged on her nipple as his other hand squeezed and kneaded. She pushed back, rolling her hips and grinding against his cock as best she could in this position. Her dress robes were pulled off her and tossed to the ground, tattered fabric ripped in the urgency of his actions. Her bra followed and then he was all over her.

She couldn’t see him so she didn’t know what to expect, that adding to the excitement somehow. He squeezed her breasts, slapped her arse, fucked her cunt with his fingers, licked her shoulder blades, bit her neck, and repeated the actions in varying order until she was trembling as she pulled at the magic binding her to the motorcycle. Her arse was warm from the slaps, some hard and some almost a caress, and the denim of his jeans just added to the sensation as he rubbed his erection against her.

“Sirius,” she whined, lowering her head until her hair fell over her shoulders, needing more. He kept bringing her close with his fingers only to pull back before she could come, teasing her and punishing her for going without him, reminding her that she was his with every touch, lick, bite, and word.

“Want me now, love?” he asked huskily as he grabbed her hips and lazily pushed against her from behind. “Want me to fuck you so hard you can’t stand? Gonna fuck you here over my bike, make you scream, make you forget everything but me.”

Hermione heard his zipper lower and didn’t have time to catch her breath before he was pushing inside her. It didn’t take two strokes before she tensed and came with a low cry. Her arse was throbbing from the spanking and she’d been on edge so long after his teasing punishment that she didn’t even have to have him touch her clit for her orgasm to hit. He growled softly and bit her neck as she shuddered and then he began to move.

There was nothing at all gentle about his actions. He fucked her hard, claiming her, taking what he wanted as he gave her what she needed. Each shove of his cock inside her sent her forward over his bike, the magic pulling at her wrists and keeping her from falling. Sirius tangled his fingers in her hair, pulling her back so he could kiss her, sucking her lip as he pulled back.

He panted as he moved, the material of his shirt rubbing against her back, and she listened to the sound of skin hitting skin as he thrust completely inside her. Her breasts bounced back and forth as they fucked. He alternated between holding her hips and squeezing her breasts, tugging on her nipples until she whimpered. “Love your tits,” he muttered as he began to move faster, his hips rolling forward and changing the angle of his thrusts as he licked her neck and the bite he made. “Love fucking your tight cunt. So wet for me, only for me. Mine, always mine.”

His hair brushed against her back as he bent over her, the soft tendrils sliding along her sweaty skin in a sensual way that made her moan. She tightened around him when she heard the low groan that always preceded his orgasm. She knew he was close and wanted to feel him spill inside her. His fingernails scratched her back as he reached down to grip her hips hard. She knew she’d bruise but was used to seeing the marks on her body after more than three years with him.

He buried himself deep inside her before he shuddered and came with a soft grunt. Once he stopped trembling, he pulled out of her and released the charm binding her hands to the motorcycle. She rubbed her wrists, her body still aroused and so very close, and looked at him. He kissed her again and gripped her arse, raising her and carrying her to the back of the motorcycle.

She felt the seat beneath her sore arse and then he was spreading her legs and kneeling. Hermione reached back to hold on to the front of the bike for balance as he leaned forward and began to lick. Her legs went over his shoulders as he pulled her closer, his tongue lapping at her cunt, his nose nuzzling her clit. He licked her from arse to clit, sucking the come from her with soft slurps that made her reach down and grip his soft hair, urging him closer.

When he began to suck her clit, flicking his tongue against her sensitive skin until she was gasping, she felt the tension snap. She came against his face with a soft whimper, looking up at the moonlit sky above as she shuddered and nearly fell off the motorcycle as he kept licking and sucking. When he pulled back, he licked his lips and met her gaze before he stood up and kissed her thoroughly.

Hermione held on to him as she returned his kiss, gently stroking his hair as he held her tightly. He lifted her from the motorcycle and they ended up lying on her torn robes on the ground, her mostly lying on top of him as they kissed. She raised her head finally, lips swollen and wet from kissing, and caressed his cheek as their gazes met. “Yours, Sirius,” she whispered before she lowered her head and met his lips in another kiss. "Take me home."

The End