Inell's Fanfiction Archive

Hermione Granger was having one of the worst days of her twenty-three year old life. Considering that life included multiple battles with Death Eaters, numerous pranks with her two best friends, and the final showdown with Voldemort, that was really saying something. The morning had started off fairly well. She had woken at the usual time, half past six, and immediately changed into her running clothes. After her customary jog around the park a block from her flat, she had taken a shower and eaten a pastry for breakfast. That had been her routine since finishing her studies two years prior and moving into the flat in muggle London to be close to her job as the assistant to the Ministry of Magic, Arthur Weasley. Today had been a typical morning. She had gotten a cup of coffee on her way to work from a muggle franchise near the Ministry and arrived at her job twenty-two minutes early. She was always early, whether it be for work, meetings, or parties. She loathed tardiness, surprising since her best friends were rarely ever on time.

She enjoyed her job at the Ministry, though it was not as challenging as she had hoped. At one time, she had considered becoming a professor at Hogwarts, her love of studies driving her to ambitiously take courses in Potions, Transfiguration, and Charms. Her plans to teach had been halted when Arthur asked her to work with him, telling her that he needed someone he trusted to be his right hand in his relatively new position. She had considered the offer, weighing her choices and making several lists before finally agreeing. She had imagined that being the assistant to the Minister would be rewarding. She had quickly found out that the majority of her time was spent answering correspondence, arranging meetings, and other dull tasks that did not require the use of even a fifth of her brain.

There were times, of course, that she was able to do the research that she loved or solve problems that Arthur did not need to be bothered with. In all honesty, she was bored. She enjoyed routine, certainly, but sometimes longed for chaos and excitement. She sometimes envied Harry and Ron, both boys becoming aurors following Voldemort's defeat during their seventh year. They traveled the world searching for the few remaining Death Eaters or other threats to the peace of the wizarding community. She knew that Harry was planning on retiring from that job soon, having confessed during his last visit that he was ready to settle down. She suspected that he would be proposing to Ginny by the end of the year.

Her day had started to go poorly when she had arrived at work. She had been walking down the hall to her office when she'd run into someone, spilling her coffee all over new shirt. While that wasn't such a problem, quickly taken care of with a simple charm, the person she had bumped into *was* a problem. She had been dripping coffee when she'd heard a very familiar voice lazily talking about clumsy mudbloods. With fire in her eyes, she'd looked up to see Draco Malfoy smirking at her. The term mudblood no longer caused the same sensitive reaction that it once had, hearing it for over a decade from the arrogant pureblood bastard dulling her response to it, but she still got angry when he tossed it around so casually. And he knew she got angry, which was one of the reasons he never failed to use it around her. Not wanting an argument with Malfoy to start off her day, she'd ignored him, glaring as she walked past him to go into her office. The annoying git had followed her, insulting her small but cozy office and looking down his pompous nose at her. She'd snapped, insulting him at a rapid speed, responding to each of his replies with her own sarcastic thoughts. And that was how Arthur found them.

She had been in her office covered in coffee stains, her hair having fallen from the tidy knot she had arranged that morning, her cheeks flushed and her brown eyes flashing with annoyance as she'd finished telling Malfoy where he could stick his pureblood wand. Malfoy, bastard that he was, had looked offended by her remarks, informing Arthur that he was not at all pleased about arriving at the Ministry to assist with a fundraiser out of the goodness of his heart, ha like Malfoy even had a heart, only to be ridiculed and insulted by Hermione. She'd protested, telling her boss that Malfoy started it, realizing later how childish she sounded, practically snarling when she saw the amused and triumphant smile on Malfoy's smug face as Arthur had chastised her for her attitude. She had resisted the urge to hex him, though she had been very tempted, instead letting Arthur finish his scolding. When he was finished, he had politely told Malfoy that they would go into his office for the meeting. Malfoy told her how delightful it was seeing her again, his gray eyes flashing with amusement and his lips twisted into a familiar smirk, before saying that she should know that he always won. She'd growled and thrown the nearest thing she could find at him, hitting the door that he quickly pulled shut with an ink well and causing a big mess.

She used a charm to clean the ink up and then tried a charm on her shirt, but the coffee had already dried during her argument with Malfoy and it wouldn't come out. So she had spent the remainder of her day wearing a shirt stained with coffee. Following the meeting with Arthur, Malfoy had paused in her doorway, telling her that she looked terrible and really needed to take better care of herself, that she might be a mudblood but she represented the Ministry and ought to remember that. He'd ducked before she could hit him with a hex, laughing as he arrogantly walked away. Arthur had stopped in to apologize for the scolding, saying that he didn't believe she'd started it but explaining that, unfortunately, he had to be on good terms with Malfoy. She understood, even if she didn't like it, and she'd accepted his apology by making one of her own for acting so unlike herself. He'd just chuckled and told her that it was rather nice seeing her with a bit of fire in her eyes again before going back to his office.

It was rather ironic that the one person she had hated the most during her seven years at Hogwarts was someone that she now saw more often than her best friends. Malfoy had become a Death Eater the summer after their fifth year, after Lucius had been sent to Azkaban. They had seen the mark near the end of their sixth year, cold gray eyes seeming to dare them to tell. She honestly didn't know why they hadn't said anything, but Harry had been preoccupied with Voldemort and didn't think Draco was that dangerous, and Ron had always hated Malfoy and used the mark as confirmation that he had been right all along. She had kept an eye on Malfoy after that, finding it ridiculous that he was named as Head Boy their seventh year when he was marked by Voldemort, knowing that Dumbledore had to be aware of the Slytherin's allegiance to the Dark Lord. Surprisingly, Malfoy had done a good job as Head Boy, taking the responsibility seriously.

It was during seventh year that Lucius Malfoy died in prison, Draco inheriting the entire Malfoy fortune and the title of Lord. He'd been even more insufferable than usual, taking great pleasure in constantly being around and annoying her. It had been during the final battle with Voldemort that she found out that Malfoy was on their side, watching as the blond had turned on his fellow Death Eaters, joining Snape as they had cast curses on their own group. She never did learn what really happened, if he was always working as a spy or if he had switched sides after inheriting the money for fear he'd lose it all if he was caught or if he had a change of heart sometime during the year and a half that he'd been a Death Eater. Personally, she figured it was entirely selfish motivation that had caused him to switch sides when it was apparent that Voldemort would be defeated. Regardless, he had helped them win and was one of the heroes of the War.

Following graduation, he had decided to take some classes, studying Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts at the same school as her. Just when she'd expected to finally be free of Malfoy and his rude behavior, he had to follow her to Uni. She knew he had no intention of having an actual job, his inheritance enough to last him several centuries, and she was convinced he had only gone to school to annoy her. Of course, Harry and Ron thought she was paranoid and found great amusement in her belief that Malfoy planned his future around finding ways to make her life miserable. She knew that she was just some know-it-all mudblood in his opinion, but she didn't need her friends laughing at her misfortune.

After she'd accepted Arthur's offer of a job, she honestly hadn't been very surprised when two weeks later, Malfoy had shown up to discuss ideas of a fundraiser for orphaned children from the War. Since then, every few months, he would arrive with some idea or another for a fundraiser. He'd been given a title from the bloody ministry, Minister of Charitable Endeavors, which was just, to borrow a muggle saying, icing on the cake. The day hadn't improved from there. She'd missed lunch when a talkative witch from Surrey had flooed her with numerous questions about several mundane topics. Ginny had owled and canceled their plans for dinner, having a summer cold that had her home from work early and in bed. She'd missed the bus home, having to walk nearly a mile because she didn't have anywhere to sneak to apparate home. Now, though, she was finally home.

********************

She was tired and hungry and still annoyed that Malfoy had gotten the last word during their argument. It was Friday evening and she was home alone, which wasn't anything new. She hadn't seriously dated anyone since Victor during fourth year, and that wasn't what she would call serious. A few dates, a bit of snogging, but that was it. She had broken it off rather quickly when it was evident that she didn't feel *that* way for the boy. She'd dated Ron once, just to prove to him that they were not a good match, and she'd dated Harry once to prove to herself that they didn't belong together. She'd been too busy after that date with Harry to get involved with anyone. There had been seventh year, Head Girl, studying, Voldemort, and then Uni and her studies.

After that, she'd been settling into her new job and now, well, she just didn't have an opportunity to meet anyone that might be a potential relationship. Ginny was the only person that knew that Hermione was a bit of a romantic. She had a fondness for muggle romance novels and believed that a relationship should be passionate and exciting at the same time it was based on respect and friendship. She did not believe in casual affairs nor did she believe in having sex with anyone that offered. She might be old-fashioned, but she had been saving herself for someone she loved. Now, though, at twenty-three going on twenty-four with the only serious relationship in her past lasting a few months and her last date being with her best friend when they were sixteen, well, she was beginning to rethink that belief.

Ginny had laughed and told her to go pick up a cute boy at a bar and shag him rotten, claiming that all she needed was a right good shag. Harry had his hands full with the youngest Weasley, that was for sure. Hermione had actually been considering her friend's suggestion, as much as she hated to admit it. She had begun to realize that her ideal was just that, an ideal, and that reality was her being alone on a Friday night. She was a reasonably attractive girl. Her hair was still thick and wavy, being somewhat unmanageable, but she was able to fix it well enough, and Ginny said the shade of brown was lovely. Her eyes were nice, chocolate brown according to Ron, though they lightened depending on her mood. Her skin was smooth and not overly pale, though she did have freckles scattered around her body. She had nice breasts, full and suitable for her tall but slender frame.

She was curvy, breasts and hips and her tummy wasn't completely flat because she enjoyed a good meal. She had long legs that were kept in shape from her morning jog and Harry had told her that she had a perky arse once, though she wasn't entirely sure what a perky arse exactly meant. She assumed it was good because he'd blushed after saying it, apologizing for 'acting like such a guy', which she assumed was the equivalent of hormone driven perv. She wasn't ravishing or beautiful, but she guessed some people might call her cute. She had guys flirt with her, but she had to confess that she wanted a guy that wanted her for her mind as well as her body. Most men ran away from a woman that could hold an intelligent conversation, and those that didn't were usually too old or married or gay. Guys her age didn't appreciate a sharp mind or stinging wit. It was all quite bothersome.

Hermione took off her coffee stained shirt and tossed it in the rubbish, knowing there was no point trying to remove the stain. Kicking off her shoes, she picked them up and went into her bedroom. Stripping off the rest of her clothes, she grabbed an old T-shirt and a pair of worn shorts. Changing into the comfortable clothes, she went to the kitchen and surveyed the contents of her refrigerator. With a sigh, she shut the door and found her collection of menus. One of the reasons she loved this flat was its central location to several restaurants that delivered. Debating between Chinese or Italian, she went into the living room. Sitting down on the sofa, she studied the menus, deciding that lasagna and garlic bread sounded pretty good. She picked up the phone and was about to dial when she heard a noise against her window. Startled, she looked up, putting the phone back before walking to the window. She opened the window and admitted an unfamiliar owl.

"Hey, boy, who do you belong to?" she asked as she went into the kitchen and got a small bowl of water. She set it down and saw that her name was written across the parchment in an unrecognizable scrawl. With curiosity in her brown eyes, she unrolled it, her eyes widening as she read.

Hermione,

Are you lonely? I am. I think you are looking for excitement, that you hunger for adventure and passion, that you are bored with your life and want to try something daring. You want to be touched, tasted, to lose control, to give yourself completely to pleasure. You are asking yourself if this is a joke, wondering if you know me. I assure you it is not a joke, nor do you really know me. But I know you. I want you. I have wanted you for so very long, hiding in the shadows, wanting and needing, watching you. I want to watch your face as I show you the true meaning of ecstasy. I want to hear your voice cry out in pleasure as you explode, your body limp and exhausted, begging me for more. I am tired of hiding in the shadows alone. My desire for you grows every day, consuming my thoughts and my dreams. Will you walk in the shadows with me, Hermione? Think carefully about your decision. I know that I can never be with you in a relationship. There are things in my life that make it impossible. Know that now, accept that. You will never be able to truly know me. If you are willing, we can share something else though...I want to teach you about pleasure. I want to ruin you for all other men. I want you to feel as consumed by want and need as I. I want you to think of me all the time...ache for my touch...my lips...will you play with me, Hermione? A game of seduction, of lust, of passion. I would never hurt you. You must trust me. I want you in my bed, body aching for my touch, losing control for me, only me. What is your answer?

Yours

The letter was not signed, which wasn't a big surprise. Hermione gulped, wondering when the room had gotten so warm. Okay, this had to be a joke, but she couldn't see Fred or George coming up with an idea like this. Not only was she like their little sister, the words that she read were seductive and erotic. No offense to the Weasleys, but none of them really struck her as the type to write erotic letters talking about need and lust and, oh boy, what if it wasn't a joke? Could someone really want her? The brunette witch read the letter again, fascinated with the words, her tongue running along her lower lip as she found herself reacting to what was written. Ginny was always telling her to take a chance, to do something daring, to live a little. She had wanted some excitement, had been considering finding some random bloke to shag, why not use someone that seemed to know her, to want her. She went to her desk and reached for a quill. With a slightly shaky hand, she wrote one word on a piece of parchment.

Yes.

Taking the parchment, she gave it back to the owl and watched the bird fly away. Oh God, what had she done? She'd just accepted an offer from a stranger to allow herself to be seduced, that was what! She began to pace nervously, thinking that this very well had to be the dumbest thing she'd ever done in her life. This guy could be anyone. There was also the chance that it could be a joke, to which she could be forever humiliated after sending a reply of yes, please seduce me Mr. Stranger Who Knows My Name But Whom I Don't Know At All. She heard her tummy growl and realized that she'd not bothered to call in her food because she was so caught up in the mysterious letter she'd received.

********************

She sighed, laughing softly at how silly she was acting. It was just a letter. Probably a dare or something and she'd never hear anything else about it. She called in her food, relieved when they said it would arrive in twenty minutes. She got a soda and sat on the sofa. Her mind was still thinking about the letter, wondering who could have sent it if it was real. Surely she would have noticed something watching her, wanting her. She was always very aware of her surroundings and had never noticed any strange men appearing frequently enough to be considered as a possible writer of that letter. True, she may have missed him, especially if he did hide in the shadows, as he claimed. Shaking her head, she decided she was spending way too much energy thinking about something that was probably just a joke. Turning on the telly, she flipped through the stations until she found something that interested her. She got involved in the mystery and soon her food was arriving. She ate as she tried to figure out who had done it in the old Agatha Christie movie, though she had read the book because Christie was one of her favorite muggle authors. The identity of the killer was revealed right before she heard a noise at her window.

Hermione let the owl back in, removing the parchment and unrolling it. A silver chain fell to the ground before she could catch it. She read the parchment, seeing that he had only written one word.

Good.

Good? That was it? He writes all these seductive things about tasting her and losing control and makes her knickers start to get wet and his only response is good? She snorted, deciding that it had to have been a joke after all. With a sharp laugh, she leaned over and picked up the silver chain. She gasped as she felt herself pulled through a portkey, eyes wide as she found herself in a very unfamiliar room. Great, Hermione, and you call yourself intelligent. She hadn't even considered that the chain was a portkey, too caught up in the letter and everything else. She glanced down at her old shorts and shirt, wondering if this could get any worse. She looked a mess, was definitely not dressed for some romantic seduction or even passionate sex. He'd probably be disgusted with how slobby she looked and send her home without hesitation.

The room was very plush, she realized, thinking that it might be a very expensive hotel room. The bed was huge, dominating the room easily. The covers were turned down, showing sheets that were a beautiful crimson and looked as if they were made of silk. She moved closer, running her hand along the material. Oh yeah, it was silk. Real silk, soft and smooth against her flesh. She could easily imagine how it would feel against her sweaty naked body and, stop it, she scolded mentally. She appeared to be alone in this room so there was no need to be thinking about naked bodies at all. Candles were floating around the room, bathing it in a gentle light. She softly called out, "Hello? Is anyone there? If this is just some big joke, please tell me so I can go home and finish my dinner."

"Don't turn around, Hermione," a husky voice spoke from the shadows behind her, "if you do, game over."

"Okay," she said quietly, finding it nearly impossible to resist the urge to turn around. She wasn't very good at taking orders, which he should very well know if he had watched her like he claimed. His voice was sexy, soft and husky, and she could all too easily imagining it whispering all sorts of naughty things in her ear. It caused tingles in her tummy, she had to admit, that being the main reason she hadn't turned around. She wanted to see if it was just nerves or if she was finally feeling attracted to someone who wanted her. She'd felt attraction before, of course, but it wasn't a healthy attraction and was for someone she couldn't have and shouldn't want. This, though, she could acknowledge and explore and enjoy. She was pulled from her musings when something covered her eyes. She tensed automatically, slowly relaxing when she realized it was just a blindfold. Okay, kind of kinky but she'd go with it for now.

"You're here," he whispered against her neck, his fingers fastening the blindfold and then slowly moving down her neck.

"Yes," she stuttered, wondering if it was possible that the back of the neck was an erogenous zone. She had never done any particular reading on the subject but she felt as if her body was on fire from that casual touch of his warm fingers against her flesh.

"I'm glad," he said before his lips brushed against her neck.

His hands moved along her arms. Nice hands, she thought before moaning as he licked her neck. Smooth palms, long fingers, tracing every inch of her arms. She didn't have time think before she felt herself being turned around, lips crashing down on hers as his hand moved behind her back, pulling her closer. He was taller than her by several inches, her head leaning back to meet his mouth. He was slender but muscular, she could feel him against her, wondering if he was even wearing clothes. Goodness, the idea that he was kissing her so passionately, so deeply, taking possession of her mouth, and might be completely naked caused her to moan again, her hands itching to touch him, to feel him. His hand moved into her hair, brushing through the thick waves as his other hand moved down her back from her neck until he was cupping her arse. He pulled her closer, his erection hard against her stomach. She wasn't sure what to call it, knowing that proper word was penis but thinking that sounded far too formal even for her thoughts. She had always liked the word cock for some reason, deciding she'd use that unless she thought of something better. His cock was hard and poking her in the stomach, giving her solid evidence that he wanted her, baggy T-shirt, old shorts, unmanageable hair and everything else.

She was a bit scared. She knew the technicalities of losing one's virginity, of course, but she had heard from various friends that it hurt even when taken into consideration. Since she had no plans of stopping this consuming kiss, loving the feel of his full, yes they felt full, lips against hers and his tongue battling with hers, to let him know she had never shagged a bloke before, she was preparing herself for pain but hopefully not a lot of awkwardness. She felt herself falling and realized that he had moved her to the bed. He began to slowly undress her, releasing her mouth and kissing his way down her body. She felt the cool silk sheets against her heated flesh, all to aware now that he was, indeed, naked. He was so hot, his body feeling as if it was on fire. His lips blazed a trail down her body.

"So bloody beautiful," he muttered softly before he ran his tongue along the curve of her breast.

She wished she could see his face, wishing she knew who he was. When she felt his tongue licking at her nipple, she realized it didn't really matter. It probably would once this over and she had time to think about what she was doing, but right now she didn't care who he was as long as he didn't stop kissing her. As he had said, this was about need and desire. She wanted him, she realized, desperately. He slid his hands down her body as he teased her nipple with his tongue. His finger slid into her easily, she was so wet. He played with her, the damn bastard, teasing her, bringing her to the edge and then pulling back. He kissed his way down her body, adding another finger into her tight warmth. Before she even realized it, she was begging him for more, whimpering in need. She moaned when he added a third finger, pushing gently into her, getting her ready for his cock.

She began to move against his hand, taking his fingers deeper. She thrust up when she felt his tongue on her clit, gasping as he teased her with his tongue. She reached down and held his head firmly in place and she rubbed herself against his face, against his hands. His hair was soft and long enough that she tangled her fingers in its length. She screamed as she came, feeling his tongue lapping at her juices as he removed his fingers. She tried to catch her breath, wondering if it was always like that. It certainly beat playing with herself, that was for sure. She had never had such an intense experience the few times she'd given in to a need for self loving. She didn't know if it was him or the situation or if she was just horny, and she honestly didn't care. She just wanted to continue feeling that way.

Suddenly, he was kissing her again, sharing the taste of her juices with her. She sucked on his tongue, feeling him moving between her legs. It was time, she realized. She could do this. Okay, it was a little weird to be losing her virginity to a stranger while wearing a blindfold, but it was definitely an experience she wouldn't forget. She felt his hand brush against her wet folds as he positioned himself between her legs. She heard him mutter a contraceptive charm before hearing something falling beside her on the bed, figuring it must be his wand.

"This may hurt," he whispered softly as he began to thrust inside her. He groaned, his lips catching hers in a possessive kiss as he gently pushed into her.

He knew she was a virgin. She didn't know how, but he knew. He was going so slowly, taking his time, being so gentle. She gasped when she felt him push past her barrier, feeling his body stop as he gave her time to adjust. Finally, he was completely sheathed inside her. He felt huge, thick and long, touching her in places she had never realized existed. She arched up against him, hoping he'd get the idea. He did. He began to move inside her, the pain fading as it was replaced with pleasure. Her hands moved behind his back, fingernails scratching his skin as they began to move faster. She broke their kiss and cried out when she felt her orgasm hit. Her muscles tightened around him and he groaned her name as he emptied his seed inside her.

Hermione couldn't believe what had just happened. That was what she had always read about. Desire and lust and passion. She'd felt things she'd never imagined feeling. She kissed him again, her tongue taking possession of his mouth, her hands tangling in his hair as they kissed. She felt him pull out of her and move beside her, his arm moving around her waist as she covered a yawn. She snuggled against him, soon drifting to sleep in his arms, the blindfold still firmly in place.

When she woke up, she was laying in her bed. Confused, she sat up, pushing her hair out of her face as she looked around and tried to figure out what had happened. She knew it hadn't been a dream. Her body ached in places she had never ached before, and she could clearly see the evidence of hours of shagging as she looked at her naked body. Oh God, she'd spent the entire night having sex with someone she didn't know. They'd slept and then woken up and had sex again, this time a bit more rough and just as satisfying. Two more times had happened before she'd finally drifted into a deep sleep from which she had just awoken. She could see love bites on her breasts and one on her inside thigh.

She had a feeling that her mirror would inform her that she looked properly shagged if she dared take a look. She assumed he must have brought her home and tucked her into bed. He'd been in her flat. She wasn't sure yet if that bothered her or not. After all, she trusted him enough to have sex with him four times without ever seeing his face or hearing his name. She ran a hand over her face before looking at the muggle clock beside her bed. It was nearly eight, the longest she'd slept in she didn't even know how long. She was glad it was Saturday, at least. Looked like she'd be skipping her jog. Her body was so worn out that she didn't even feel like getting out of bed much less going for a run. She noticed a piece of parchment beside the clock, reaching for it and reading.

Hermione,

It was better than I imagined. Until next time...

Yours

A small smile crossed Hermione's lips as she re-read the note. Until next time. That meant it was going to happen again. She fell back against her bed, her smile widening as she realized that she was looking forward to the next time.

********************

"Oh My God!"

Hermione cringed slightly when she heard the loud words for what had to be the hundredth time in the last half-hour. She smiled sheepishly as she said, "You've said that already."

"Hush," Ginny Weasley scolded, though the redhead couldn't keep the large smile from crossing her face as she asked, "so, how was it?"

"Ginny!" Hermione could feel her cheeks heating up as she rolled her eyes, "You're lucky I told you as much as I have."

"Piffle," Ginny dismissed Hermione's reply, "you know you were dying to brag to me!"

"Piffle?" Hermione laughed softly as she heard Ginny utter one of Arthur's favorite sayings.

"Dad uses it constantly and I guess I've picked it up," Ginny explained before arching a brow, "and you so know that I am not about to drop this topic, don't you?"

"I was afraid of that," Hermione groaned, wondering if she had been foolish for sharing the events of the previous evening with her best friend. When she'd woken that morning, she'd planned to keep it a secret between her and her mystery lover. But, as the day had progressed, she'd started to think about what she'd done and had felt the need to talk to someone. She'd decided to check on her sick friend and tell the redhead about the letter and her night of shagging. Okay, so a part of her wanted to brag a bit about her daring adventure, just to let Ginny know that she could do something unexpected and risky. The other part wanted to know if she was crazy for taking such a foolish chance with someone she didn't even know.

"I want to hear everything, Hermione," Ginny said as she made herself comfortable, brown eyes shining with curiosity and interest as she looked at her best friend. Even if Hermione hadn't said a word, Ginny would have known she'd been properly shagged. Besides the obvious love bites on the older witch's neck and the fact that she looked exhausted in an entirely debauched way, there was a sparkle in her chocolate brown eyes and a secretive smile that crossed her lips during moments of silence as she obviously remembered the events of the night before. Ginny was torn between being excited and happy for her friend and being a bit concerned and worried regarding the unusual, albeit romantic and sensual, circumstances.

"I told you already," Hermione sighed, "I got a letter by owl, I wrote yes on the invitation, and then I received a portkey. When I arrived, I was blindfolded and, well, I'm sure you can guess the rest."

"That's the abridged version," Ginny protested, "we're best friends. I want details, damn it! Why did you say yes? I mean, no offense, but you're not usually the type to take such a chance, especially when it involves sex and someone you don't know."

"I was having an awful day," Hermione confessed as she leaned her head back on the sofa and stared at the ceiling. She recalled, "I ruined my shirt with coffee and Malfoy was driving me nuts, as usual. He got the last word during our fight and made me feel stupid in front of Arthur and was so damn smug that I wanted to slap his the smirk off his handsome face! And I missed lunch and you got sick so dinner plans were canceled and, I don't know. The letter was erotic but not threatening. He meant what he said, I could tell that just by reading. I have to admit that it was kind of exciting to think that someone wanted me so much he'd go to that much trouble. I thought it might be a joke, but I couldn't say no."

"You said that the letter mentioned that he couldn't have a relationship because his life made it impossible. Do you think he's married?" Ginny asked, a thoughtful _expression entering her eyes as she tried to think of reasons why someone wouldn't be able to have a public relationship with her best friend.

"I honestly didn't give it much thought," Hermione admitted, "Merlin, what if he's married? I can't believe I never thought about that!"

"I don't think he is," Ginny decided, "I mean, he stayed with you all night and he confessed in the letter that he'd wanted you for a long time. If he felt that deeply for you, I can't believe he's married."

"I hope you're right, but why wouldn't he be able to come to me and tell me how he felt? It just doesn't make sense," Hermione frowned, her happiness fading as she found herself worrying that she had had an affair with a married man.

"Maybe he's scared to tell you how he feels?" Ginny suggested, "You know how weird guys are about love and talking about their feelings. I love Harry to death, but I think he'd rather face a renegade wizard than tell me anything emotional or romantic. Or maybe that was just part of the seduction? You know, a reason to explain why he was going to such lengths and all that. If he's smart enough to plan all this, he'd definitely be smart enough to give you a justification for why he couldn't just ask you out. And, if he knows you as well as he says, he'd definitely know that you'd need some reason, even a vague one, to explain why he was wooing you in such a manner."

"He is rather clever, isn't he?" Hermione smiled slightly, "I think I like that explanation much better than him possibly being married. If I hear from him again, I'm going to confirm that he's single before I do anything."

"He's very clever," Ginny agreed, "so, back to the details, you got the letter and agreed to give yourself to him. Then what?"

"He wrote me back and send me a silver necklace that took me to this room. It was a lovely room, very expensive furnishings and the fabrics on the bed probably cost more than I make in a week. I assume it was a hotel suite, but it may have been a bedroom. I didn't notice anything personal laying around, though, just candles and the bed. He was standing in the darkest shadows when I arrived and I never got even a glimpse of him," Hermione closed her eyes as she thought back, "he told me not to turn around and then blindfolded me. His voice, I can't even describe it. It was sexy. Sort of husky and soft, he spoke quietly, just above a whisper, and he was very well spoken. He touched me, ran his hands over my arms and kissed the back of my neck."

"Merlin," Ginny sighed softly, "what next?"

"We kissed," Hermione said as her hand moved to touch her lips, "his lips were full and soft, and he definitely knew how to kiss. His hair was long, I remember tangling my fingers in it. He was naked and I could feel his hard body against mine. He was slender but muscular, he felt as if he took care of himself. He was taller than me, I had to lean my head back to kiss him. We kissed for a while, his hands roamed my body and I touched him. Eventually, he began to undress me, his lips following the path of the clothes he removed. By the time he pushed me against the cool sheets, I was so ready for him. He loved to taste me, to touch me, and he knew exactly what I wanted and needed. He knew I was a virgin and went slow, trying not to hurt me. There wasn't as much pain as I'd imagined, he made it so easy for me. After that first time, I fell asleep in his arms. During the night, we had sex a few more times. It was unbelievable, Ginny. We fit together perfectly, and it was more than I had ever imagined."

"Wow," Ginny fanned herself, "I think the room is getting pretty warm! I think I'm jealous!"

"I never saw him, Gin," Hermione turned her head to look at her friend, "I had that blasted blind fold on the entire time and never got to see his face. He made me feel beautiful and sexy and I don't even know who he is! When I woke up this morning, instead of having regrets or concerns about what I did, I was happy when I found his note and excited when I thought it might happen again."

"You don't have any idea who it might be?" Ginny asked softly.

"Not a clue," Hermione sighed as she ran a hand over her face, "The majority of the men I interact with daily could be ruled out because of their age or because their bodies don't match what I felt last night. I mean, there are a lot of people that work at the Ministry, of course, but I've never noticed anyone watching me lustily or giving any indication that I was the subject of fantasies."

"Maybe he doesn't work at the Ministry," Ginny suggested, her mind working through possible identities of Hermione's seducer. She leaned over and grabbed a muggle notepad and pen so she could start making a list of clues as Hermione again looked at the ceiling and thought. He was obviously intelligent, knew Hermione rather well, possibly wealthy based on the description of the room, was good at seduction according to her best friend's reaction, was probably around their age, had a good body, longish hair, was daring enough to try such a wild plan in order to get Hermione into his bed, probably pretty confident though perhaps a little shy about admitting how he felt since he'd gone to such trouble to be secretive about his feelings for Hermione instead of just telling her. Her attention was pulled from the list when Hermione spoke.

"I don't really go anywhere but home and work," Hermione shrugged, "he'd almost have to work with me."

"Well, what about Uni? You were there a few years," Ginny reminded, finding this entire situation very romantic and sensual as well as a curious little mystery.

********************

"No, I spent my time studying or avoiding Malfoy," Hermione recalled, "the few times any boys did approach me in a flirtatious way, I either didn't feel any kind of attraction or, most often, Malfoy would show up and start some silly argument with me. I don't think any of those few boys would go to this much trouble to try to seduce me."

"Malfoy?" Ginny slowly looked up from her list, her eyes narrowing as her lips curved into a slight smile. Of course! She looked back at the list, marking each characteristic off when she compared it to Draco Malfoy. She almost laughed as she realized that there was a good chance that she had just figured out the identity of Hermione's seducer. Leave it to Malfoy to think up such a cunning plan of seduction.

She had suspected for years that he had a thing for her best friend, though she'd never said a word because she wasn't entirely certain that she wasn't just being a sappy romantic. Even back at Hogwarts, he had gone out of his way to argue or tease Hermione, especially when she was ignoring him, always seeming to want to gain her attention. After Hogwarts, he'd followed Hermione to Uni, much to her best friend's annoyance. When school was finished, Hermione had taken the job working with her Dad and, within a couple of weeks, there was Draco, hanging out at the Ministry and constantly turning up in Hermione's office to argue with her over the silliest topics. Contrary to Hermione's insistence that she found Malfoy annoying and rude and a pain in her arse, Ginny thought that the brunette witch might not be entirely as unaffected as she liked to pretend. Malfoy was gorgeous, sexy, smart, funny in that sarcastic way Hermione loved, confident, wealthy, and, well, the list could go on.

She knew Hermione loved to debate with him, even as she grumbled about him always starting a fight, and she knew that she rarely saw Hermione look more alive and beautiful than when she was around Malfoy. She'd always thought it was cute, the way the two fought their attraction and denied what they really wanted, but she had assumed once the War was over and Hogwarts was finished that they would eventually admit their desire and affection for each other and begin a real relationship. Instead, they'd continued their arguing and refused to acknowledge that there was something between them. It wasn't just Ginny that saw it, so she knew she wasn't just imagining things. Harry and Ron had seen the attraction and sparks between Hermione and Draco a few years ago, and, while both men were good aurors, neither was known for their skills of perception. While neither of them was exactly thrilled at the idea of Hermione having a relationship with the blond Slytherin, they both just wanted to see Hermione happy so they were willing to accept Draco if he was the one that made her smile. Even her Dad had chuckled over dinner following a particular enjoyable argument between Hermione and Draco in his office a few months ago, confiding to her and her Mum that he could see fireworks every time those two were together and how he was very excited to see what happened when they finally quit fighting and started snogging. She hadn't been sure that either would ever admit what they felt, especially the more time that passed, and she was glad that it would appear that Draco had finally made the first move. Considering Hermione looked like a woman well satisfied from a night of pleasurable shagging, first move might not be the right word.

"Ginny? You're not listening," Hermione grumbled as she saw her best friend looking thoughtful and smiling.

"Sorry, what?" Ginny came out of her thoughts, discretely moving her list so Hermione couldn't see it. She didn't know for certain that the seducer was Draco Malfoy, but she was pretty convinced that it had to be. Since he obviously wanted to play some game of seduction, who was she to interfere and tell Hermione her suspicions? Hermione was a big girl and very smart so she doubted it would take long before the former Head Girl realized that she was being seduced by the former Head Boy. It really was quite romantic, Ginny decided, and so like Malfoy to turn everything, including his feelings for Hermione, into some elaborate game instead of simply admitting that he wanted her.

"I'd better get back home," Hermione smiled, "it's nearly dinner time and you're looking sleepy. You should be resting instead of listening to me ramble on about my encounter last night. I may never even hear from him again."

"Oh, I don't think you have to worry about that," Ginny smiled slyly, "he's wanted you for a long time and has finally gotten you so I don't think he's the type to ever let you go. By the way, after giving it more thought, I think his explanation as to why it had to be a secret was because he's a guy and has no idea how to tell you what he feels or wants. I also figure he assumed it would add a bit of excitement to the game. You don't have to worry about the being married thing, though."

"Ginny, what are you thinking?" Hermione demanded, seeing the smirk on the redhead's face and recognizing the gleam of knowledge in her brown eyes.

"Nothing," Ginny said innocently, "I just think you should stop worrying about it and go with it. Give in to the desire you feel and don't be so concerned about what happens next. Play his game and enjoy his seduction, Hermione. He's gone to a lot of trouble to show you how he feels and you deserve to be happy. I have a sneaky suspicion that everything will work out perfectly in the end, once the blindfold is removed and all."

"I hate when you do this," Hermione glared, "you sound like you know something, but what could you possibly know?"

"I only know what you know, Hermione, I just think it's very romantic and sexy and that you made the right choice by following your heart and saying yes," Ginny smiled before she sneezed again. She made a face, "I hate summer colds. You will let me know if you have another encounter with him, won't you?"

"Of course," Hermione said as she stood, "but I wouldn't hold my breath. It was probably a one-time thing and his note was just him being polite and thanking me for the shag. I hope you feel better."

"If he wanted to thank you for the shag, he'd have left you in the hotel room with no note at all," Ginny said, "leaving a note saying such sweet things and alluding to another time means that he plans on having you again. Quit being so negative or I may smack you!"

"Yes, Ma'am," Hermione smirked before gave Ginny a brief hug, "I'll check on you tomorrow. Maybe we can have lunch."

"I'll be here, sneezing and sniffling and hoping that Harry gets his bony arse back to London soon! I think I want to try out that blindfold thing, " Ginny laughed as she hugged Hermione.

"You're such a hussy," Hermione laughed as she made her way to the fireplace.

"Me? I think you're giving me a run for that title, Mione," Ginny smiled fondly, "but I love you so I'll gladly share. We can both be wanton hussies in respect to our chosen mates."

"Have a good night," Hermione rolled her eyes, not bothering to argue that one time with a stranger did not make him her chosen mate, no matter how great he made her body feel. She wanted more than just great sex. She wanted intelligent conversation and lively debates and humor and affection along with the great sex. She tossed in the floo powder and was soon standing in her living room. She went to lay on her sofa, a thoughtful _expression in her eyes as she thought about her life. She wanted someone that made her feel alive, physically and emotionally and intellectually. She wanted to be challenged, to share moments of comfortable silence but also have enthusiastic arguments. She wanted a relationship with someone that made her feel the way Malfoy did.

With a groan, she pushed that thought away, knowing it was pointless to dwell on the impossible. She usually did a great job of forgetting that she wanted him, thinking of him as the annoying Malfoy that enjoyed fighting with her and making her life miserable, but she couldn't ignore the truth all the time. She'd had a crush on Draco for years, since before the War, and it had just gotten more complex and complicated over time. Luckily, she was good at hiding how she felt so he had no idea that she had wanted him for years. He had no interest in her except as someone to tease and argue with when the mood struck so she had no intention of ever letting him know that she measured every guy she met to him and they all came up severely lacking. She shook her head, pushing his handsome face from her mind. Ginny was right. She had spent so many years wanting what she couldn't have, namely a certain sexy Slytherin, and now maybe it was time to finally move on. There was a guy that wanted her, that made her feel sensual and beautiful, and she admitted to herself that she'd go to him again without hesitation if he asked.

********************

Hermione laid on her sofa for half an hour after returning from her visit with Ginny. The brunette thought about her previous evening with the seductive stranger as well as trying to figure out what Ginny knew that the redhead hadn’t told her. She also thought about Draco, the blond wizard having an annoying habit of entering her thoughts quite often. With a low groan and a shake of her head, she stood up and went into the kitchen. A frown crossed her face as she looked at the contents of her cabinets. She needed to go shopping, making a mental note to go to the grocery store the following day, sighing as she realized that would be the highlight of her Sunday.


She finally decided to make some soup, heating it quickly and taking a bowl back into the living room. Hermione sat down on her sofa, turning on the television and changing channels until she found a program on the history of London. She began to watch as she ate her meal, the time passing rather quickly. When the program was over, she turned off the telly and cleaned up her dishes before deciding to change for bed. To be honest, she had procrastinated, thinking that her Stranger might send for her again.


She grimaced as she wondered if he had been disappointed with their evening and the note had just been a polite ‘thanks for the shag’ type of thing instead of a promise of more evenings between them. And, really, did she want to become involved with some mysterious suitor that wouldn’t even let her see his face? She had always imagined finding the right man and having a future with him, sharing a life with someone that loved her, good and bad. The sex had been amazing, not that she had anything to compare it with but somehow knowing it had been special, but could she honestly be satisfied if it never moved beyond sex? What sort of relationship was based completely on sex with someone she didn’t even know?


Okay, so she knew him according to his first letter, but she had no idea what man she might have met at some point during her twenty-three years had taken the initiative to begin this game of seduction and she certainly had no idea who it had been that made her feel so beautiful and sexy and aroused. He claimed he had feelings for her, Ginny seemed convinced that his mention of them not being able to be together was merely a ruse to heighten the excitement of the game, he had touched her as if she was a gorgeous creature that he was worshipping, so why couldn’t she see his face?


If he knew her all that well, he’d have to know that one of her worst traits was curiosity and that she was stubborn as Hell and hated not knowing the answers. If she tried to find out who he was, the game was over. If she didn’t try to find out, she might very well have to get a room at St. Mungos. It was rather bothersome, and she honestly was spending far too much time thinking about it all. Especially considering that he had not even bothered to get in touch with her again. A part of her knew that it was rather soon, their first time together not even being twenty-four hours ago, but she had hoped that he was affected as she had been and would be impatient for another meeting.


Hermione entered her bedroom, pulling her shirt over her head and tossing it on the bed. Removing her faded jeans, she walked to her dresser to get her pajamas. That’s when she saw it. Brown eyes widened as she looked at the beautiful silver box, having to admit that it was one of the most lovely things she’d ever seen. She reached out to open it, her hand pausing as she remembered what had happened the previous evening. Opening her drawer, she looked through the old T-shirts and shorts that she usually wore to bed until she found the sexy gown she had bought on a whim ages ago.


It was a deep emerald green that actually went remarkably well with the rich tones of her dark brown hair and tan skin. She had bought it when she’d been out shopping with Ginny one day and hadn’t been able to resist the sexy nightie. It was barely covered her thighs and was held together with bits of lace and ribbons, definitely a ‘shag me now’ type of outfit and not something one would comfortably wear to actually sleep in. If this was another port key left by her Stranger, she wanted to look sexy and arousing instead of slobby and average. She got dressed and brushed her hair, looking in the mirror and deciding that she looked rather good. She grabbed her wand a cast a contraceptive charm, just in case, knowing that her Muggle birth control was probably enough protection but deciding it was better safe than sorry. Once the charm was cast and she was pleased with her appearance, she walked back to her dresser.


There was a moment of hesitation as she looked at the pretty box, dealing with the realization that he had been in her flat while she was gone. Taking a deep breath, she opened the box, expecting a familiar pull from a port key. Instead, she heard the sound of one of her favorite songs and watched in awe as an image of two people dancing appeared over the music box. ‘As Time Goes By’ was one of her favorites, a very old Muggle song that was in one of her Mum’s favorite movies, Hermione had heard it often as a child and considered it a romantic and meaningful song in the soundtrack of her life.


He had known this was a favorite, charming the music box to play the Muggle song, her mind thinking about the few people that would be aware of this unusual bit of information. Not even Harry or Ron would probably be able to name this song, which meant her Stranger had to have been paying attention to her and been around enough to have overheard her talking about that song at some point. That would narrow the list of his identity considerably had she been able to recall any specific time of actually discussing that song with anyone. She watched the dancing couple, her lips curving into a smile as she listened to the beautiful melody, softly singing along and adding the words. Whomever he was, he was thoughtful and considerate, this being on of the best gifts she had ever received.


She was disappointed that it hadn’t been a port key. She had been so sure when she’d seen the silver box that he had left it for her to find, wanting to see her again. Hermione sighed softly as the song ended, closing the music box and heading towards the kitchen for a glass of water before she went to bed with a good book. She was on her way back to her bedroom when she heard a knocking against the glass doors of her balcony. The brunette witch opened the curtains and saw the same owl from the previous evening, her eyes flashing with awareness and excitement as she opened the door and let him in. She poured some of her water into a bowl for him before she eagerly opened the envelope.


The silver necklace from the night before fell to the ground as she read the words on the parchment.


‘It took you long enough. I want you. I need you. Come for me?’


Hermione snickered a bit at the last bit, rolling her eyes at the double entendre. Her Stranger seemed to have the same sense of humor as she did, the brunette finding that remark rather amusing. She looked at the sentence again, lingering on the first bit. He sounded impatient, eager to see her perhaps. Took her long enough for what? A thoughtful gleam entered her eyes as she looked towards her room. Of course! He must have placed a spell on the music box, something to let him know when she’d opened it. Merlin, he was not only thoughtful but he was also sneaky and rather brilliant.


She moved her fingers over the middle words, a feeling of anticipation spreading throughout her body. He wanted her, he needed her. This had to be the craziest things she had ever done in her life! Even helping Harry fight Voldemort made more sense than entering into an affair with a Stranger who seemed to know her so well. She was always the rash one, the logical one, the dependable one, the one that thought of every possible outcome before ever making a decision. She was the ‘Queen of Lists’, according to Ron, and Harry thought she was a bit boring, though he’d never admit that to her. What was she thinking sneaking off to have wild sex with someone she’d never even seen?


She liked it, though. She was enjoying the excitement and the intrigue, the adventure. She felt sexy and wanted, two things she had never really felt before, and it was because of the mysterious yet thoughtful Stranger that had shown her so much pleasure the previous evening. She had been frustrated lately, feeling a bit lost and lonely, her job enjoyable but not very difficult, her friends moving on with relationships of their own, and she had Crookshanks and an empty flat.


This affair, if you will, was exhilarating even if she did have her doubts as to how long she could continue it without wanting some answers as to the identity of her Stranger. For now, she could be daring and reckless and hope she didn’t get burned in the end for playing with fire. Hermione leaned down and picked up the necklace, holding it tightly as she felt the familiar pull of a port key. Within moments, she stumbled and found herself back in the same room as before.


She saw the blindfold laid out on the sheets, a bottle of champagne chilling beside the bed, and candles floating around the room. Hermione set the necklace on the small table beside the bed before she reached for the blindfold. She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly before she placed the blindfold against her eyes. She was trying to fasten it when she felt his hands cover hers. She inhaled sharply at the realization that he was there, her body reacting instantly to feeling him behind her.


"You look so sexy," he said huskily, his warm breath against her ear as he fastened the blindfold. His hands moved along her side, barely touching the silk material of her nightie. "Did you wear this for me, Hermione?"


"I, uh," she knew she must be blushing as she admitted quietly, "yes."


"I’m glad," he practically purred, her knickers growing increasingly wet as his hands moved along her sides. She felt him move, her other senses more attune with her eyes covers. She inhaled the scent of spice, mint and a masculine odor that was all his own. Hermione had never considered scent arousing but now she knew that it could excite her just as much as sight or touch.


Hermione felt his lips against hers, her head falling back so he could deepen the kiss. He wasn’t as tall as Ron, possibly the same height as Harry. She had never kissed Harry before, not like this, so she wasn’t sure about a comparison but it felt right so he was less than a head taller than her. His tongue traced her lips before sliding into her mouth, pushing all thoughts of trying to get hints to his identity out of her mind. Her tongue moved into his mouth as her hands went around his neck. She could feel that he wasn’t wearing a shirt, her body pressing against his to determine that he also wasn’t wearing any trousers.


His hot naked body pressed against hers, his erection against her stomach, his long fingers tangled in her hair. She moaned as she opened her mouth for him, pressing intimately against him as she felt arousal spread over her body. His hand moved along her back, caressing her flesh before he cupped her arse, pulling her against his hard shaft. His lips left hers, brushing against her cheek before he kissed his way down the slender column of her neck. "Time to unwrap my prezzie," he whispered before licking her shoulder, his teeth snagging in the thin strap of her nightie.

Hermione felt him move the strap off her shoulder, his fingers brushing against her throat before he began to unfasten the ribbons. Her nipples were hard before he even touched her breasts, his knuckles brushing against her chest and stomach as he untied the ribbon, his tongue moving over the curve of her breast as he pulled the now open nightgown down her arms. She felt it pool at her feet, her breathing growing increasingly more strained as he lavished her breasts with his oral attention. Merlin, he was good with his tongue.


Her knickers were soaking, the brunette having a moment of panic when she realized she was standing barefoot wearing only her panties while he was licking and sucking her breasts, wondering again when she had become so reckless and daring. His hand brushed against her stomach, his fingers sliding into the waist of her panties as he simply stroked her lower abdomen, his mouth licking and nibbling on her breasts. She suddenly didn’t care where this rebellious streak came from, having an idea that he had brought it out in her with his letter the previous evening and more so after their evening together.


He kissed his way down her stomach, his tongue licking her belly button before she felt his teeth against her lower abdomen. She whimpered as she realized he was removing her panties with his teeth, a fresh wave of arousal washing over her at that knowledge. His nose brushed against her wetness as he pulled the scrap of material down past her hips, letting it fall down her legs to join her nightgown. "You smell so good," he told her before his tongue ran along the length of her pussy, "taste even better."


Hermione whimpered when she felt his tongue lazily taking another lick of her juices, his hands moving to her thighs and urging her to spread her legs. She heard the bed move as he must have sat down, his head moving between her legs, his tongue continuing to tease her as he licked at her juices. They stayed in that position for a bit before he moved his head back. She didn’t protested when he pulled her forward. She crawled up the bed, letting his hands guide her. Lowering herself when he stopped her, she gasped when his tongue delved deep into her pussy.


She began to move against his face, finding the position a bit odd but soon growing accustomed to being on top. She was tempted to remove the blindfold and look down, to see whose face she was riding, but she didn’t dare. Doing so would mean the game was over, that she would never again feel like this, never have him touch her or taste her, never feel this sexy and desirable and alluring.


She couldn’t end the game, not yet. She didn’t fool herself into believing that she could continue this way endlessly, knowing that one day she would need to find out who he was and take the chance of it all being over, but that day wasn’t today. Hermione felt his fingers spread her lips, his tongue curling and moving inside her as his nose brushed against her clit. She moaned in pleasure as he explored her with his tongue and fingers.


"Touch your breasts, Hermione."


She nibbled on her bottom lip as she slowly moved her hands to her breasts. She could feel his eyes on her, the heat of his gaze as she began to caress her breasts. Being blindfolded actually made her a bit less self-conscious. She had a feeling he was watching her but she didn’t know for certain so she felt more uninhibited, having more freedom in her actions without being plagued by insecurities or doubts.


Hermione squeezed her breasts, her thumbs brushing against her nipples, feeling the wetness from his licking and sucking. A finger slid into her as he continued to tongue her pussy, her body moving against his face and hand as she fondled her breasts for him. His lips moved around her clit, his tongue licking the sensitive bud as a second and then third finger entered her.


Her head fell back and her body arched as she came, drenching his face and fingers with her juices. She had little time to catch her breath before he was moving, pressing her against the mattress as he slowly entered her. Hermione moved her hands all over his body, touching his neck and shoulders and arms and chest and back, tangling in his soft hair, her body pushing up to get more of him inside her. He got the hint, thrusting forward until he was completely buried within her. She groaned as he began to move, her nails digging into his back as he kissed her, loving the taste of her mixed with his unique flavor.


Hermione felt his hand on her breast, squeezing her in a similar way to how she had touched herself. He had been watching, paying attention to what she liked. She deepened the kiss as he caressed her, his cock penetrating her completely with each thrust. Her legs wrapped around his as she rose to meet him, his lips leaving hers to suck on her neck, licking and nibbling on an area she knew would bear his mark in the morning. With a wicked smile, she followed his example, her lips moving against his face as she kissed her way to his neck. Drawing his skin into her mouth, she sucked hard, her tongue licking at the flesh as she heard him moan softly.


His hand drifted from her breast, moving between them. His strokes were getting deeper, increasing in speed, his breath panting against her neck as his fingers found her clit. She exploded as he twisted her clit, her body writhing beneath his as she came with a soft cry. Her fingers clutched his hair as she arched against him, her muscles tightening, his body stiffening as he came with a low grunt. He buried his face into her hair, against her neck, as he continued to enter her through his orgasm, his seed spilling inside her.


He finally withdrew, his slender body moving to lay beside her as he pulled her against him. He kissed her passionately before the sheet was pulled over them, his fingers checking the knot on her blindfold. It was so tempting to just remove it and look into his face, but she resisted that temptation because she was selfish and couldn’t give this up yet. She loved feeling sated and cherished, his hands gently moving along her body as she lay in his arms. Just as she drifted off to sleep, she thought she heard ‘I love you, Hermione’ whispered against her ear, her eyes closing as her lips curved into a pleased smile, her body snuggled against his.

End Part 6