“Do you wanna dance?”
Hermione looked at the freckled hand that had suddenly appeared before her, brown eyes moving from the hand past muscular forearms to broad shoulders before settling on the amused blue eyes watching her. Blushing slightly at being caught ogling his arms, she primly replied, “I don’t like to dance.”
“Oy, Hermione, that’s not good at all.” Charlie Weasley tsked before giving her a crooked smile. “Perhaps you’ve just never found the right partner.”
“And you think you’re the right partner?” She arched a brow and let her eyes lazily look over his stocky frame. He wasn’t exceptionally tall, the shortest of the Weasley boys, but he was broad and muscular and a bit rough. Shifting in her seat, she rubbed her legs together as she looked away from his knowing smile. The pub was crowded and loud, music blaring from the lively band, and she was one of the only people not dancing or laughing with friends.
“You know I’m perfect for you, love,” he purred in her ear, his fingers ever so briefly moving along the top of her hand. “You’re just too bloody stubborn to admit that you’ve been sitting here waiting for me. I bet your knickers are soaking wet because you’re desperate for me to fuck your tight little cunt.”
“Charlie,” she hissed, her eyes giving him a warning glare. Their relationship was relatively new, still a secret just between them and, more recently, her roommates. Harry and Ron only knew because they’d caught Charlie in the middle of shagging her rotten a few weeks ago after they’d foolishly forgot to cast a silencing charm. Not sure who had been more embarrassed after that awkward incident, her best friends had agreed to keep the news that she and Charlie were involved to themselves until they were ready to announce it to their friends and family.
They’d been shagging for nearly six months and dating for five. It had taken nearly a month of stolen encounters, meeting for a quick fuck, and hours spent lazily exploring one another’s bodies for them to actually admit it might be more than just sex. Selfishly, she wanted to wait a bit longer to tell people because she enjoyed sneaking around, having a secret, and dreaded the interference of their well-meaning friends and family once it was learned they were rather seriously involved and that the idea of marriage in the future was something that appealed to them both.
“I like it better when you moan my name,” he informed her huskily, his breath warm on her ear.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded in a low whisper, thankful that no one was paying any attention to them.
“Nothing,” he said with an innocent smile. “I simply asked you to dance.”
“Stop touching me,” she scolded him, her voice slightly breathless.
“Dance with me, Hermione.”
Looking into his blue eyes, she nodded slowly but warned, “Just a dance.”
“Of course.” His lips curved into a smile she knew all too well. Before she could change her mind, knowing, just knowing, that he was planning something wicked, he grabbed her hand and swept her onto the small dance floor.
This was a mistake. She knew that as soon as her body was pressed against his, his hand lazily stroking the small of her back, and his lips brushing soft kisses along her bare shoulders and neck. Her hair was down tonight, thankfully covering his face so no one could see the wicked things he was doing with his tongue. She could feel his erection pressing against her stomach, her fingers playing with his short red hair as they moved to the slow song. Everything around them faded as they rocked back and forth, their movement not even enough to call dancing. They were holding each other, touching as much as possible, his thigh between her legs.
“I want you,” he growled in her ear, pulling her even closer, deliberately moving his leg in such a way that she was rubbing herself against him like a wanton hussy.
“We can’t,” she moaned softly, her hand clutching the back of his neck, her fingers buried in soft red hair.
Brown eyes met blue and he smiled. “Wanna bet?”
“Charlie,” she said in a warning voice, not protesting when he maneuvered them off the floor. She held his hand as he pulled her down the dark hall until they were stumbling into the empty loo. Their lips met urgently, his hand hastily locking the door before he was lifting her, her arse perched on the edge of the counter.
“I knew it,” he declared triumphantly when his hands moved between her legs to find her soaking knickers. He shoved the material to the side, two fingers thrusting into her, his other hand pushing her skirt up around her waist.
“I hate when you get smug,” she muttered crossly, her hands unfastening his trousers. “Charles Weasley! No shorts?”
“What can I say? I was hoping to get lucky,” he said with an exagerrated leer before his lips caught hers once again.
Hermione stroked his cock, using her thumb to spread his pre-come, tracing his slit before moving her hand up and down. Her other hand moved beneath his jumper, shoving it up beneath his arms, tracing the dragon tattoo on his hip before moving behind him to grip his arse as she moved against him. “Please, Charlie. We don’t have time for you to tease.”
“But I like teasing you,” he whined petulantly, winking at her before he pushed her shirt up and freed her breasts from her brassiere. His lips found her hard nipple as his fingers continued to move inside her, getting her ready for him.
“We’re shagging in the loo and your entire family and most of our friends are right outside! Can you hurry up and fuck me, you wicked prat?”
“I love when you get bossy,” he groaned before sucking her nipple, his tongue lashing at it as he pulled her closer to the edge.
She spread her legs further, her knickers still on, the material simply pushed to the side so he could reach her wet cunt. His fingers left her, leaving a trail of juices on her thigh as he reached for his cock. He stroked his length with his wet hand before he was slowly pushing inside her. Hermione’s head fell back against the mirror, her hands clutching his shoulders, and soon they were moving together.
“You like this, don’t you, baby?” Charlie rasped in her ear. “Knowing they’re right outside, that they could walk in and catch us. I didn’t the lock the door, don’t care if they all know about us, want them to know that you’re mine. Almost took you right there at the table, let them all watch me fucking you, let them see how bloody beautiful you are when you’re coming.”
“You didn’t lock the door?” Her eyes widened and she turned to look at the lock, not sure if it was turned or not. “Oh God. Anyone could walk in, you bastard!”
“And that makes you wet,” he purred before licking her collarbone. “I can feel you, Hermione. You’re so excited at the idea we might get caught that you’re about to squeeze my cock off.”
Unable to deny his accusation, she kissed him instead. Pulling his short hair, she rode his cock. The thought that someone might walk in on them was exhilarating. She bit his shoulder, her legs wrapped around his waist, her feet resting on his flexing arse. He was fucking her harder now, her body meeting his thrust for thrust. Shifting on the counter, she felt the faucet digging into her back, the mirror cool against her shoulders, and his hands gripping her arse as he pulled her against him. “Charlie,” she whimpered, grinding her clit against him, his strokes sending her against the hard faucet until she knew there must be a mark.
“Come for me, love,” he demanded hoarsely, his fingers digging into her arse as he kept fucking her with deep, hard thrusts. When he licked the skin beneath her ear and rolled his hips, she couldn’t hold back any longer.
“Fuck,” she cried out as her orgasm hit. Her head fell against his shoulder, his hand pulling some of her hair out at her sharp movement, but she was coming and didn’t even notice. He followed her soon after, sinking deep, growling against her neck as his seed spilled inside her wet cunt.
When he pulled out of her, Hermione slowly slid off the counter. She cringed at the soreness between her legs, her hand rubbing the small of her back where the faucet had hit her repeatedly. Looking in the mirror, she made a face. Her hair was a mess, her cheeks pink and sweaty, her lips definitely looking as if she’d been thoroughly snogged. Trying her best to tidy up, she smoothed her brassiere and shirt back down, her nipples tender from where he had been biting and sucking them. He performed a quick cleaning charm on them and she put her knickers back in their proper place. Moving slightly, she could feel the fabric rubbing against her well fucked cunt and finally just took them off and hastily shoved them into the rubbish bin beside the lavatory.
“See, love. I was right,” Charlie said smugly, moving to stand behind her, his eyes catching hers in the mirror as he his hand rested on her stomach.
“About what?” she asked suspiciously, her head moving to the side when he began to nibble the smooth column of flesh, her lips curving into a tender smile when she saw how his red hair was sticking up in various directions and that his own lips looked properly snogged.
“You just needed to find the right partner.”
The End