Fic: The Morning After (Hermione/Cormac)
Title: The Morning After
Characters/Pairings: Hermione/Cormac
Rating: Adult
Summary: Breakfast and a shower
Word Count: 4282
Beta: None so please excuse an errors.
50_smutlets prompt: Shower
A/N: For _snitchbitch as a thank you present for the help in getting my new Fic Archive set up and for helping to inspire me to write again! This is a sequel to A Bit of Fun
The smell of bacon is intoxicating. Hermione hears her stomach gurgle with hunger as she slowly makes her way into consciousness. The bed is softer than usual, and she doesn’t remember her sheets feeling quite this nice. As she snuggles further into her pillow for just a few extra minutes of rest, she becomes aware of several things at once. This isn’t her bed. She hears someone moving nearby, so she’s not alone. It’s late morning because the warmth she feels on her shoulder and arm is from the sun, not the room. That’s when memories of last night flash through her mind. The wedding and dancing and shagging Cormac against the window. And the table. And the bed multiple times. Merlin, no wonder her body is sore and she’s so tired. They behaved like a couple of rabbits on aphrodisiacs.
“You awake yet, Hermione?” Cormac’s voice is a low whisper, being cautious of the fact that she might still be asleep.
“Mmm hmmm.” She opens her eyes slowly, blinking at the natural light flooding the bedroom of the penthouse suite. “What time is it?”
“Half-ten. I just woke and ordered room service a short time ago.” The mattress dips down when Cormac sits beside her. His fingers brush along her forearm before carding through her hair. “You were sleeping so well that I didn’t want to disturb you. Besides, I wore you out last night. And this morning.”
“Stop being smug,” she mutters, not even having to look at him to know he is smirking. “I seem to remember you calling a time out because, what was it? I broke you?” She smirks herself as she rolls her head on the pillow and finally looks at him. It’s most definitely the after-effect of having the best shags she’s experienced that makes her think he looks handsome in the morning light and that this is a sight that she might grow used to seeing every day. Such thoughts are fanciful and far too soppy for her, so it must be due to the great shag.
“Cor, love. You were going to chafe me if I hadn’t stopped. Was only protecting my bits.” Cormac leans down and brushes a kiss against her shoulder then another across her collarbone. “You wanted to protect them, too, remember? The most perfect dick in all of England, wasn’t it?”
“Hmph. I was under the influence of pheromones, so I refuse to stand by anything I might have said in the heat of the moment.” She stretches, feeling twinges in her lower back and groin area that she hasn’t felt in well over a year, and they hadn’t been quite like this back then. While she enjoys sex, she’s never spent a night having it in a variety of ways. She moves her gaze from his face down his body, a warm flush spreading from her neck to her cheeks when she notices all the scratches and marks she’s left on him.
“A real work of art, aren’t I?” Cormac grins down at her. “My little wildcat. You should see my back. I thought the bloke who brought the food up was going to faint when I turned around. I assured him that I wasn’t in a dangerous relationship, and that my girl just likes it a little rough.”
“You did not!” Hermione swats at his bicep when he winks at her. “Bloody incorrigible,” she mutters, wondering if that isn’t one of the reasons she actually took a chance on this with him. It’s a trait she finds infuriating yet attractive in his case.
“You’ll find out if you see a bloke in a uniform coat giving you awkward looks when we leave tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” Hermione arches a brow and watches as he goes from smug to sheepish in less than a second. “Cormac, what are you talking about? It’s Saturday, and I have errands to---“
He leans down to kiss her, effectively cutting off her protests. She returns the kiss, closing her eyes and tilting her head back into the pillow as he strokes his knuckle across her jaw. When he pulls back, he smiles. “I was right. Kissing you is definitely a more enjoyable way to interrupt you.”
“I haven’t even had a chance to brush my teeth or rinse my mouth yet.” She tastes spearmint after kissing him, which means he’s already cleaned up. “Morning breath isn’t attractive.”
“I’ll be the judge on that. Besides, you had your mouth on my cock, my arse, and a dozen other places during the last, oh, fourteen hours, and I still snogged you rotten. I don’t think morning breath is going to stop me from getting my mouth on yours.” Cormac shrugs a broad shoulder before brushing her hair back from her face. “Now, I have breakfast, so do you want to eat or shower first?”
Her stomach growling answers for her, and she bites her bottom lip when he laughs. He’s different like this. Still a cocky arrogant prat, but something has changed. He’s relaxed and casual, and there’s a quiet confidence that she notices now that she’s never seen before. It’s a lot more appealing than the brash over the top attitude he brandishes about normally. She likes it, possibly more than she should? She lightly swats at his chest. “I don’t want to get up yet. Bring me food.”
“Bossy little witch.” Cormac brushes a quick kiss across her lips before standing up and going into the other room. As he walks away, she admires the way his trousers cling to his arse. She also sees what he meant about his back and can’t help a smug smile from crossing her lips because he’s going to have those for several days, which is only fair considering how sore she is right now. Besides, as she sits up and gets more comfortable, she notices that she has bruising on her thighs and breasts from him, so it’s not as if she was the only one determined to leave a lasting mark.
“Did you really have to leave a mark on my neck that’s going to be difficult to conceal at work?” She calls out to him while she rubs her thumb over the mark she can feel but not see yet. “They’re going to think I’ve been mauled if they see it.”
“Pot, kettle, wildcat.” Cormac sing songs back at her. “I’m going to be strutting around the locker room at Flint’s gym like a peacock while the blokes admire my combat scars.”
“I’ll show you scars if you bring my name up in a bloody locker room,” she warns. “I don’t think we did a very thorough job cleaning up after that time this morning. I’ve got dried and crusty fluids on my breasts and abdomen. You’re quite messy, McLaggen.”
“You weren’t complaining this morning. Oh Cormac, make me come, harder, that’s it. You’re amazing. Ring any bells?”
“I never said you were amazing. You must have been dreaming.”
“I might have added what I know you were thinking at the time because I am talented enough to interpret the gasps and moans you were making.”
“I’m not at all sorry to inform you that you’re not very good at translating. I believe what I was saying was more along the lines of hurry up you teasing wanker and don’t come on me because this is real life and not some Muggle porn film you’re sneaking around and watching in that seedy place down in Knockturn Alley.”
“For the record, I have never once been to that place, though I cannot deny watching some of the finer choices of Muggle cinema. If you recall, I was trying to wipe you off with a flannel because you didn’t trust my wand skills at the time, and you’re the one who jumped me and used my poor defenseless body for your entertainment and pleasure.”
“Of course I didn’t trust you with a wand at the time. You were dazed and so overcome with gratitude that I allowed you to enjoy my sexual expertise that you couldn’t have held the wand straight. Also, defenseless my arse.”
“And what a lovely arse it is,” he says, reentering the room with the breakfast tray floating in front of him. “Though I do want to explore it more. I feel I neglected it last night, especially compared to the attention my arse received.” He smirks at her. “I still stand by my interpretation of your noises, but I’m willing to make the sacrifice and get more practice interpreting them. A lot more practice.”
“You won’t get a chance if you don’t give me that bacon,” she informs him in a lofty tone, making grabby hands for the food. “I’m famished.”
“After the work-out we’ve had, it’s no wonder.” He puts the tray on the bed beside her before sitting down in the same place he’d sat earlier. “Eat up, wildcat. You’ll need your energy for after.”
Hermione reaches for a rasher of bacon with one hand the glass of orange juice with the other. “After? What are you planning, McLaggen? Don’t think your distraction technique with the kisses worked, either. What did you mean by tomorrow?”
“I reserved the room for another night. Now that I have you where I want you, I was hesitant to end our encounter so soon.” He picks up a slice of toast and begins to spread jam on it, avoiding her eyes as he continues. “After all, you might leave the hotel and decide you’ve had enough of me or realize that you don’t want to date someone as handsome and charming as me.”
After swallowing her bite of bacon, she puts the glass back down and reaches out to put her hand on his, lighting tracing his fingers with hers. “Do you really think I’m the type of woman who is going to change her mind so suddenly after it’s been made? If I wanted to use you for sex, I’d have told you, and I’d have left before dawn. I don’t make it a habit of falling asleep with men who don’t interest me outside of the bedroom.”
He looks at her then and gives her a small smile that she thinks is much more attractive than the flirty flashy smile he usually uses. “I wasn’t certain if you might not change your mind. While the sex is smashing, I tried to be clear about what I was hoping for with you. I just didn’t know if you’d still make the same choice in the harsh light of day.” He clears his throat and shakes his head slightly, obviously realizing he had made himself vulnerable. “Not that you’re bloody stupid enough to pass up all this, of course.”
“Of course not. I am the cleverest witch of my generation, after all.” She allows him the compliment because she can sense that he let down his guard and now is feeling sensitive about it. She eats a bite of eggs and another rasher of bacon before she sighs. “I suppose that I can do my errands tomorrow, and I can put off a few things because they aren’t imperative. Spending an entire day in a posh hotel room with a sexy lover is something that I’ve never done before, so it would be silly to decline the opportunity just so I can go to the bookstore.”
“Sexy, huh?” Cormac smirks. “I knew you’d be unable to resist me much longer, Granger. And you’re choosing me over books? I think I’m going to need to send off an owl to The Daily Prophet announcing that to, oh, the entire wizarding world. Wizards, and some witches, everywhere will cry in the morning when they see I’ve managed to charm you and they can’t have you.”
“Boasting is not attractive,” she says, arching a brow and giving him a pointed look before stealing his toast to take a bite.
“Neither is theft.” Cormac steals a piece of bacon that she’s already taken a bite of. Before he can take a bite, he shudders dramatically and puts it back. “Bloody hell, woman. It’s just bacon! I wasn’t kicking House-elves or slaughtering innocents. No need to give me that death stare.”
She smiles sweetly. “Word of advice, darling? Don’t get between a woman and her bacon.”
“Noted.” He runs his fingers through his hair, mussing it even more. It’s a good look on him. Just shagged. She continues eating while looking at him, enjoying the chance to ogle without consequence. He starts to shift and look somewhat self-conscious when she continues staring. It’s rather adorable. “What? Do I have something on me?”
Her hunger for food is nearly sated. Her hunger for him, however, is just growing. “You’re very handsome,” she says. “Obviously, you know this based on how you strut around, how did you say, like a peacock? But I’ve never really noticed that your face truly is lovely. Classical, almost. You remind me of a marble statue I saw while wandering around Florence years ago. Beautiful yet not feminine, which is difficult to accomplish. You very fit and masculine, the muscles defined and your body proof that you take care of yourself and pride yourself on how you look. It’s somewhat vain, I know, which I don’t particularly care for, but I must admit that I might have to consider strutting a bit myself knowing that I’ve had you, many times, and I know about the sound you make whenever you’re about to come, the look in your eyes when I lick you, and the way you get bashful when I talk so bluntly about you despite your arrogant attitude. Others can admire you and want you, but I’ve got you. I’m just feeling fairly smug right now.”
“You-what---fuck.” Cormac takes a drink of water, gulping it down before he looks down at her and narrows his eyes. “You finished with breakfast?”
“Yeah.” She licks her lips, not at all surprised that her voice is husky considering the way he’s looking at her. Her body now recognizes it after the hours they’ve spent together, and she feels warmth in her belly and below when he gives her a smile that could only be considered predatory.
“Me too.” He stands up, and she squeals when he suddenly pulls her out of bed. She’s naked and squirming when he puts her over his shoulder. “Stop it or you’ll fall.” He swats her arse, which makes her smack his in return. “Oh, do it again, wildcat. I like it when you’re rough.”
“Put me down, McLaggen! I’m not a sack of potatoes, and I don’t find this Neanderthal behavior attractive like some witches.” She hears a door open and then he’s sliding her down his body until she’s back on her feet. Before she can start yelling at him, he kisses her. It’s a desperate kind of kiss, like he’s so close to snapping and just taking her right there, and she can feel her nipples tightening as he kisses her so passionately. The caveman macho type thing isn’t a turn on for her, but being kissed like he’s dying and she’s the only thing that can save him certainly is.
“You need a shower, remember?” he murmurs when he pulls back, cheeks flushed and voice husky and deep. He’s breathing hard, almost as if kissing her has left him breathless. She can understand the feeling. “I want to get you cleaned up so I can mess you up all over again.”
“Next time, just ask, and I can walk,” she says, leaning up to kiss him again. “But, yes, I do need a shower. I should take a bath to help with some of the soreness, but that seems pointless since it’s not as if I’ll be taking it easy the rest of the day.”
“We can do that tomorrow. A nice lazy soak in warm water to ease the aches and pains before we have to return to the real world.” Cormac steps back and unbuttons his trousers. When she arches a brow at him, he smirks. “I already showered, but I thought it might be faster if I wash your back.”
“I suppose the possibility of sex in the shower never crossed your innocent mind, either?” She snorts when he deliberately bats his eyelashes and attempts an innocent expression. “You couldn’t pull off naïve schoolboy when you were one, so don’t start trying now. I’ll allow you to wash my back, mostly because I swear I can feel something on my lower back where it’s difficult to reach, but no hanky panky.”
“Hanky panky? Is that some odd Muggle expression? Does it mean shower sex?” Cormac pushes his trousers down, and she can see that he’s already half hard. When he’s standing naked in front of her, she’s again thinking about classical Roman statues of pretty men with muscles and unrealistic beauty.
“It’s really not fair that you’re prettier than I am,” she mutters, reaching out to trace his pecs and abdominal muscles with her fingers.
“Eye of the beholder, Hermione. I think you’re beautiful.” He puts his hand on top of hers and squeezes. “Now, let’s do this hanky panky thing.”
“I said no hanky panky, you prat.” She rolls her eyes before turning to turn on the shower. Once the water is an adequate temperature, she steps inside. It’s a nice shower, tiled and expensive, which is appropriate for a penthouse suite. There’s more than enough room for Cormac to step in behind her. The water feels good, refreshing and warm as it sprays down on her.
“We’re going to need to request more flannels from reception. We’ve used them all cleaning up during the night.” Cormac kisses her shoulderblade before he reaches for the bar of soap provided by the hotel. “After I wash you, I’m going to kneel down, and I’m going to lick you until you’re begging me to fuck you. Then I’m going to keep licking until you’re cursing at me and threatening my bollocks, and only then will I stand up and slide inside your tight cunt.”
“I’ll threaten your bollocks right now if you think I’m going to let get away with such threats.” Hermione leans her head forward while he soaps up her body. His hands are large and firm, fingers long and smooth. Hands that are so strong but probably haven’t done a hard day’s work. Pampered Pureblood, spoiled and arrogant, ready to get on his knees for her at a snap of her fingers. It’s heady, having that kind of power over someone, and she chooses to ignore that he’s managing to gain power over her with every passing hour they spend together as she gets to know more about who he really is.
He laughs and kisses the nape of her neck. “My bollocks are quite happy as they are, so no need to get stroppy, Hermione. I’ll take care of you. Just close your eyes and let me make you feel good.”
“It might help if you stopped kissing my body instead of soaping it up.” She has to get the last word, even as she closes her eyes and lets herself relax. He swats her arse at her words but doesn’t say anything. Instead, he seems to focus on getting her clean. The dried come and lubricant that they missed during their half-arsed cleaning attempts is soon washed away, and she already feels better getting clean again. After he’s soaped and rinsed her body, being a good boy and only fondling her breasts and between her legs a few times, he washes her hair.
It’s one of her weaknesses, and he’s just discovered it. Her knees are weak as he runs his fingers through the tangled curls, fingers rubbing against her scalp, playing with her hair as he works the shampoo into the lengthy strands. She might actually whimper, but she’s prepared to deny it. His fingers still for a moment, though, so she knows he heard it. Fortunately, he doesn’t make a remark about it, though she knows it’s only a matter of time before she hears something smart arsed from him. He continues washing her hair, taking more time with it, rubbing her scalp more, almost as if he’s trying to figure out which part makes her weak. When he’s finally done, her nipples are aching, there’s wetness that isn’t water gathering between her legs, and she knows she’s at a point where she very well might beg. Between the washing and hair, she’s aroused and needing something. Needing him.
“Cormac. Please.” She opens her eyes to look at him, shuddering at the expression on his face and the heat in his gaze. It’s not a surprise when she finds herself pushed against the wall with him on his knees within seconds. Her right leg is over his shoulder, and his mouth is where she wants it. The shower spray is getting cooler, but she doesn’t even notice because she’s so hot from his touch.
“Gonna make you come so hard, baby,” he whispers, looking up at her and smirking as he makes the promise. Then all she sees is blond hair as he begins licking her. He uses his fingers, his tongue, his nose, even his teeth. Still learning what gets her off, but already knowing a few things from the lessons last night. He laps at her like he’s dying of thirst, and she rolls her hips forward, needing more stimulation than just his tongue right now. She hears a warning growl before his free hand grips her hip, pressing her back against the tile.
“Put your fingers back, arsehole. Stop teasing me.” She tries to sound demanding but even she knows she sounds desperate and needy. He sticks his tongue inside her, rubbing his nose against her clit, tasting her in the way she’s learning seems to turn him on. The hand on her hip loosens its grip before he moves it around behind her, sliding lower to cup her arse. Finally, he moves his tongue to her clit and uses his fingers. Two enter her easily after all the activity they’ve indulged in, not even causing a wince when it usually takes a bit for one to loosen her up. She can’t wait to brag to Ginny and the others during their next girls’ night about how she can actually speak from experience about having so much sex so often that it causes her body to change for a brief time.
His hair is thick and wet around her fingers when she reaches down to grip it. It’s darker when wet, and she tugs it slightly as she rubs herself against his face while riding his fingers. In retaliation, he sucks on her clit and adds a third finger. There’s a bit of discomfort at the stretch, but she adapts soon enough. It’s good, not as thick as him but enough to get her off. It doesn’t take much longer before she’s coming, gasping as her orgasm hits.
He doesn’t even give her time to stop trembling before he’s standing up and cupping her arse with both of his hands. He slides into her in one deep thrust, both of them making a noise at the sensation. “So good,” he says, voice wrecked in a way that makes her tighten her cunt around him. He kisses her as he begins to move, nothing teasing or careful about it. They fuck against the shower wall, because this is definitely a fuck and not just sex. It’s making her toes curl, and she’s scratching fresh marks on his back as she gives as good as she’s getting. Animalistic is a word that crosses her mind before she stops being able to thing at all.
When he comes inside her, she’s close, so close, but she needs more than just penetration to find her own release. She’s frustrated, shifting around as much as she can to get the friction she needs, but he’s holding her tight. He finally finishes coming and loosens his hold. “Cormac!” She’s whining and demanding and doesn’t care because she’s so bloody close, and he’s just dazed and panting and his come is dripping out of her and coating her inner thigh and maybe she should just do it herself because it’s really not going to take much at all. He grips her wrist when she tries to do just that.
“Mine,” he says, smirking when she curses at him. “I will take care of my witch’s needs, Hermione.” He sinks to his knees and her eyes widen as he leans forward and begins to lick her again, lapping at his own come and hers. Merlin, that’s hot. She can’t even bring herself to protest being called his because it feels so good that it’s difficult to think. When his nose brushes against her clit, that’s all it takes. She’s coming hard, shuddering and making noises in a way that isn’t usual for her because she’s not normally so vocal with her enjoyment.
By the time she’s come down from her second orgasm, the shower water is frigid, and she’s feeling as dazed as he looked earlier. She slides down the wall, straddling him and leaning in for a kiss. “Bloody hell,” she whispers when they separate, foreheads pressed together as they just breathe. He wraps his arms around her, but they don’t move to get up or even turn off the water. They just sit like that, breathing and holding on to each other, neither one of them ready to let go.
End
Characters/Pairings: Hermione/Cormac
Rating: Adult
Summary: Breakfast and a shower
Word Count: 4282
Beta: None so please excuse an errors.
50_smutlets prompt: Shower
A/N: For _snitchbitch as a thank you present for the help in getting my new Fic Archive set up and for helping to inspire me to write again! This is a sequel to A Bit of Fun
The smell of bacon is intoxicating. Hermione hears her stomach gurgle with hunger as she slowly makes her way into consciousness. The bed is softer than usual, and she doesn’t remember her sheets feeling quite this nice. As she snuggles further into her pillow for just a few extra minutes of rest, she becomes aware of several things at once. This isn’t her bed. She hears someone moving nearby, so she’s not alone. It’s late morning because the warmth she feels on her shoulder and arm is from the sun, not the room. That’s when memories of last night flash through her mind. The wedding and dancing and shagging Cormac against the window. And the table. And the bed multiple times. Merlin, no wonder her body is sore and she’s so tired. They behaved like a couple of rabbits on aphrodisiacs.
“You awake yet, Hermione?” Cormac’s voice is a low whisper, being cautious of the fact that she might still be asleep.
“Mmm hmmm.” She opens her eyes slowly, blinking at the natural light flooding the bedroom of the penthouse suite. “What time is it?”
“Half-ten. I just woke and ordered room service a short time ago.” The mattress dips down when Cormac sits beside her. His fingers brush along her forearm before carding through her hair. “You were sleeping so well that I didn’t want to disturb you. Besides, I wore you out last night. And this morning.”
“Stop being smug,” she mutters, not even having to look at him to know he is smirking. “I seem to remember you calling a time out because, what was it? I broke you?” She smirks herself as she rolls her head on the pillow and finally looks at him. It’s most definitely the after-effect of having the best shags she’s experienced that makes her think he looks handsome in the morning light and that this is a sight that she might grow used to seeing every day. Such thoughts are fanciful and far too soppy for her, so it must be due to the great shag.
“Cor, love. You were going to chafe me if I hadn’t stopped. Was only protecting my bits.” Cormac leans down and brushes a kiss against her shoulder then another across her collarbone. “You wanted to protect them, too, remember? The most perfect dick in all of England, wasn’t it?”
“Hmph. I was under the influence of pheromones, so I refuse to stand by anything I might have said in the heat of the moment.” She stretches, feeling twinges in her lower back and groin area that she hasn’t felt in well over a year, and they hadn’t been quite like this back then. While she enjoys sex, she’s never spent a night having it in a variety of ways. She moves her gaze from his face down his body, a warm flush spreading from her neck to her cheeks when she notices all the scratches and marks she’s left on him.
“A real work of art, aren’t I?” Cormac grins down at her. “My little wildcat. You should see my back. I thought the bloke who brought the food up was going to faint when I turned around. I assured him that I wasn’t in a dangerous relationship, and that my girl just likes it a little rough.”
“You did not!” Hermione swats at his bicep when he winks at her. “Bloody incorrigible,” she mutters, wondering if that isn’t one of the reasons she actually took a chance on this with him. It’s a trait she finds infuriating yet attractive in his case.
“You’ll find out if you see a bloke in a uniform coat giving you awkward looks when we leave tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” Hermione arches a brow and watches as he goes from smug to sheepish in less than a second. “Cormac, what are you talking about? It’s Saturday, and I have errands to---“
He leans down to kiss her, effectively cutting off her protests. She returns the kiss, closing her eyes and tilting her head back into the pillow as he strokes his knuckle across her jaw. When he pulls back, he smiles. “I was right. Kissing you is definitely a more enjoyable way to interrupt you.”
“I haven’t even had a chance to brush my teeth or rinse my mouth yet.” She tastes spearmint after kissing him, which means he’s already cleaned up. “Morning breath isn’t attractive.”
“I’ll be the judge on that. Besides, you had your mouth on my cock, my arse, and a dozen other places during the last, oh, fourteen hours, and I still snogged you rotten. I don’t think morning breath is going to stop me from getting my mouth on yours.” Cormac shrugs a broad shoulder before brushing her hair back from her face. “Now, I have breakfast, so do you want to eat or shower first?”
Her stomach growling answers for her, and she bites her bottom lip when he laughs. He’s different like this. Still a cocky arrogant prat, but something has changed. He’s relaxed and casual, and there’s a quiet confidence that she notices now that she’s never seen before. It’s a lot more appealing than the brash over the top attitude he brandishes about normally. She likes it, possibly more than she should? She lightly swats at his chest. “I don’t want to get up yet. Bring me food.”
“Bossy little witch.” Cormac brushes a quick kiss across her lips before standing up and going into the other room. As he walks away, she admires the way his trousers cling to his arse. She also sees what he meant about his back and can’t help a smug smile from crossing her lips because he’s going to have those for several days, which is only fair considering how sore she is right now. Besides, as she sits up and gets more comfortable, she notices that she has bruising on her thighs and breasts from him, so it’s not as if she was the only one determined to leave a lasting mark.
“Did you really have to leave a mark on my neck that’s going to be difficult to conceal at work?” She calls out to him while she rubs her thumb over the mark she can feel but not see yet. “They’re going to think I’ve been mauled if they see it.”
“Pot, kettle, wildcat.” Cormac sing songs back at her. “I’m going to be strutting around the locker room at Flint’s gym like a peacock while the blokes admire my combat scars.”
“I’ll show you scars if you bring my name up in a bloody locker room,” she warns. “I don’t think we did a very thorough job cleaning up after that time this morning. I’ve got dried and crusty fluids on my breasts and abdomen. You’re quite messy, McLaggen.”
“You weren’t complaining this morning. Oh Cormac, make me come, harder, that’s it. You’re amazing. Ring any bells?”
“I never said you were amazing. You must have been dreaming.”
“I might have added what I know you were thinking at the time because I am talented enough to interpret the gasps and moans you were making.”
“I’m not at all sorry to inform you that you’re not very good at translating. I believe what I was saying was more along the lines of hurry up you teasing wanker and don’t come on me because this is real life and not some Muggle porn film you’re sneaking around and watching in that seedy place down in Knockturn Alley.”
“For the record, I have never once been to that place, though I cannot deny watching some of the finer choices of Muggle cinema. If you recall, I was trying to wipe you off with a flannel because you didn’t trust my wand skills at the time, and you’re the one who jumped me and used my poor defenseless body for your entertainment and pleasure.”
“Of course I didn’t trust you with a wand at the time. You were dazed and so overcome with gratitude that I allowed you to enjoy my sexual expertise that you couldn’t have held the wand straight. Also, defenseless my arse.”
“And what a lovely arse it is,” he says, reentering the room with the breakfast tray floating in front of him. “Though I do want to explore it more. I feel I neglected it last night, especially compared to the attention my arse received.” He smirks at her. “I still stand by my interpretation of your noises, but I’m willing to make the sacrifice and get more practice interpreting them. A lot more practice.”
“You won’t get a chance if you don’t give me that bacon,” she informs him in a lofty tone, making grabby hands for the food. “I’m famished.”
“After the work-out we’ve had, it’s no wonder.” He puts the tray on the bed beside her before sitting down in the same place he’d sat earlier. “Eat up, wildcat. You’ll need your energy for after.”
Hermione reaches for a rasher of bacon with one hand the glass of orange juice with the other. “After? What are you planning, McLaggen? Don’t think your distraction technique with the kisses worked, either. What did you mean by tomorrow?”
“I reserved the room for another night. Now that I have you where I want you, I was hesitant to end our encounter so soon.” He picks up a slice of toast and begins to spread jam on it, avoiding her eyes as he continues. “After all, you might leave the hotel and decide you’ve had enough of me or realize that you don’t want to date someone as handsome and charming as me.”
After swallowing her bite of bacon, she puts the glass back down and reaches out to put her hand on his, lighting tracing his fingers with hers. “Do you really think I’m the type of woman who is going to change her mind so suddenly after it’s been made? If I wanted to use you for sex, I’d have told you, and I’d have left before dawn. I don’t make it a habit of falling asleep with men who don’t interest me outside of the bedroom.”
He looks at her then and gives her a small smile that she thinks is much more attractive than the flirty flashy smile he usually uses. “I wasn’t certain if you might not change your mind. While the sex is smashing, I tried to be clear about what I was hoping for with you. I just didn’t know if you’d still make the same choice in the harsh light of day.” He clears his throat and shakes his head slightly, obviously realizing he had made himself vulnerable. “Not that you’re bloody stupid enough to pass up all this, of course.”
“Of course not. I am the cleverest witch of my generation, after all.” She allows him the compliment because she can sense that he let down his guard and now is feeling sensitive about it. She eats a bite of eggs and another rasher of bacon before she sighs. “I suppose that I can do my errands tomorrow, and I can put off a few things because they aren’t imperative. Spending an entire day in a posh hotel room with a sexy lover is something that I’ve never done before, so it would be silly to decline the opportunity just so I can go to the bookstore.”
“Sexy, huh?” Cormac smirks. “I knew you’d be unable to resist me much longer, Granger. And you’re choosing me over books? I think I’m going to need to send off an owl to The Daily Prophet announcing that to, oh, the entire wizarding world. Wizards, and some witches, everywhere will cry in the morning when they see I’ve managed to charm you and they can’t have you.”
“Boasting is not attractive,” she says, arching a brow and giving him a pointed look before stealing his toast to take a bite.
“Neither is theft.” Cormac steals a piece of bacon that she’s already taken a bite of. Before he can take a bite, he shudders dramatically and puts it back. “Bloody hell, woman. It’s just bacon! I wasn’t kicking House-elves or slaughtering innocents. No need to give me that death stare.”
She smiles sweetly. “Word of advice, darling? Don’t get between a woman and her bacon.”
“Noted.” He runs his fingers through his hair, mussing it even more. It’s a good look on him. Just shagged. She continues eating while looking at him, enjoying the chance to ogle without consequence. He starts to shift and look somewhat self-conscious when she continues staring. It’s rather adorable. “What? Do I have something on me?”
Her hunger for food is nearly sated. Her hunger for him, however, is just growing. “You’re very handsome,” she says. “Obviously, you know this based on how you strut around, how did you say, like a peacock? But I’ve never really noticed that your face truly is lovely. Classical, almost. You remind me of a marble statue I saw while wandering around Florence years ago. Beautiful yet not feminine, which is difficult to accomplish. You very fit and masculine, the muscles defined and your body proof that you take care of yourself and pride yourself on how you look. It’s somewhat vain, I know, which I don’t particularly care for, but I must admit that I might have to consider strutting a bit myself knowing that I’ve had you, many times, and I know about the sound you make whenever you’re about to come, the look in your eyes when I lick you, and the way you get bashful when I talk so bluntly about you despite your arrogant attitude. Others can admire you and want you, but I’ve got you. I’m just feeling fairly smug right now.”
“You-what---fuck.” Cormac takes a drink of water, gulping it down before he looks down at her and narrows his eyes. “You finished with breakfast?”
“Yeah.” She licks her lips, not at all surprised that her voice is husky considering the way he’s looking at her. Her body now recognizes it after the hours they’ve spent together, and she feels warmth in her belly and below when he gives her a smile that could only be considered predatory.
“Me too.” He stands up, and she squeals when he suddenly pulls her out of bed. She’s naked and squirming when he puts her over his shoulder. “Stop it or you’ll fall.” He swats her arse, which makes her smack his in return. “Oh, do it again, wildcat. I like it when you’re rough.”
“Put me down, McLaggen! I’m not a sack of potatoes, and I don’t find this Neanderthal behavior attractive like some witches.” She hears a door open and then he’s sliding her down his body until she’s back on her feet. Before she can start yelling at him, he kisses her. It’s a desperate kind of kiss, like he’s so close to snapping and just taking her right there, and she can feel her nipples tightening as he kisses her so passionately. The caveman macho type thing isn’t a turn on for her, but being kissed like he’s dying and she’s the only thing that can save him certainly is.
“You need a shower, remember?” he murmurs when he pulls back, cheeks flushed and voice husky and deep. He’s breathing hard, almost as if kissing her has left him breathless. She can understand the feeling. “I want to get you cleaned up so I can mess you up all over again.”
“Next time, just ask, and I can walk,” she says, leaning up to kiss him again. “But, yes, I do need a shower. I should take a bath to help with some of the soreness, but that seems pointless since it’s not as if I’ll be taking it easy the rest of the day.”
“We can do that tomorrow. A nice lazy soak in warm water to ease the aches and pains before we have to return to the real world.” Cormac steps back and unbuttons his trousers. When she arches a brow at him, he smirks. “I already showered, but I thought it might be faster if I wash your back.”
“I suppose the possibility of sex in the shower never crossed your innocent mind, either?” She snorts when he deliberately bats his eyelashes and attempts an innocent expression. “You couldn’t pull off naïve schoolboy when you were one, so don’t start trying now. I’ll allow you to wash my back, mostly because I swear I can feel something on my lower back where it’s difficult to reach, but no hanky panky.”
“Hanky panky? Is that some odd Muggle expression? Does it mean shower sex?” Cormac pushes his trousers down, and she can see that he’s already half hard. When he’s standing naked in front of her, she’s again thinking about classical Roman statues of pretty men with muscles and unrealistic beauty.
“It’s really not fair that you’re prettier than I am,” she mutters, reaching out to trace his pecs and abdominal muscles with her fingers.
“Eye of the beholder, Hermione. I think you’re beautiful.” He puts his hand on top of hers and squeezes. “Now, let’s do this hanky panky thing.”
“I said no hanky panky, you prat.” She rolls her eyes before turning to turn on the shower. Once the water is an adequate temperature, she steps inside. It’s a nice shower, tiled and expensive, which is appropriate for a penthouse suite. There’s more than enough room for Cormac to step in behind her. The water feels good, refreshing and warm as it sprays down on her.
“We’re going to need to request more flannels from reception. We’ve used them all cleaning up during the night.” Cormac kisses her shoulderblade before he reaches for the bar of soap provided by the hotel. “After I wash you, I’m going to kneel down, and I’m going to lick you until you’re begging me to fuck you. Then I’m going to keep licking until you’re cursing at me and threatening my bollocks, and only then will I stand up and slide inside your tight cunt.”
“I’ll threaten your bollocks right now if you think I’m going to let get away with such threats.” Hermione leans her head forward while he soaps up her body. His hands are large and firm, fingers long and smooth. Hands that are so strong but probably haven’t done a hard day’s work. Pampered Pureblood, spoiled and arrogant, ready to get on his knees for her at a snap of her fingers. It’s heady, having that kind of power over someone, and she chooses to ignore that he’s managing to gain power over her with every passing hour they spend together as she gets to know more about who he really is.
He laughs and kisses the nape of her neck. “My bollocks are quite happy as they are, so no need to get stroppy, Hermione. I’ll take care of you. Just close your eyes and let me make you feel good.”
“It might help if you stopped kissing my body instead of soaping it up.” She has to get the last word, even as she closes her eyes and lets herself relax. He swats her arse at her words but doesn’t say anything. Instead, he seems to focus on getting her clean. The dried come and lubricant that they missed during their half-arsed cleaning attempts is soon washed away, and she already feels better getting clean again. After he’s soaped and rinsed her body, being a good boy and only fondling her breasts and between her legs a few times, he washes her hair.
It’s one of her weaknesses, and he’s just discovered it. Her knees are weak as he runs his fingers through the tangled curls, fingers rubbing against her scalp, playing with her hair as he works the shampoo into the lengthy strands. She might actually whimper, but she’s prepared to deny it. His fingers still for a moment, though, so she knows he heard it. Fortunately, he doesn’t make a remark about it, though she knows it’s only a matter of time before she hears something smart arsed from him. He continues washing her hair, taking more time with it, rubbing her scalp more, almost as if he’s trying to figure out which part makes her weak. When he’s finally done, her nipples are aching, there’s wetness that isn’t water gathering between her legs, and she knows she’s at a point where she very well might beg. Between the washing and hair, she’s aroused and needing something. Needing him.
“Cormac. Please.” She opens her eyes to look at him, shuddering at the expression on his face and the heat in his gaze. It’s not a surprise when she finds herself pushed against the wall with him on his knees within seconds. Her right leg is over his shoulder, and his mouth is where she wants it. The shower spray is getting cooler, but she doesn’t even notice because she’s so hot from his touch.
“Gonna make you come so hard, baby,” he whispers, looking up at her and smirking as he makes the promise. Then all she sees is blond hair as he begins licking her. He uses his fingers, his tongue, his nose, even his teeth. Still learning what gets her off, but already knowing a few things from the lessons last night. He laps at her like he’s dying of thirst, and she rolls her hips forward, needing more stimulation than just his tongue right now. She hears a warning growl before his free hand grips her hip, pressing her back against the tile.
“Put your fingers back, arsehole. Stop teasing me.” She tries to sound demanding but even she knows she sounds desperate and needy. He sticks his tongue inside her, rubbing his nose against her clit, tasting her in the way she’s learning seems to turn him on. The hand on her hip loosens its grip before he moves it around behind her, sliding lower to cup her arse. Finally, he moves his tongue to her clit and uses his fingers. Two enter her easily after all the activity they’ve indulged in, not even causing a wince when it usually takes a bit for one to loosen her up. She can’t wait to brag to Ginny and the others during their next girls’ night about how she can actually speak from experience about having so much sex so often that it causes her body to change for a brief time.
His hair is thick and wet around her fingers when she reaches down to grip it. It’s darker when wet, and she tugs it slightly as she rubs herself against his face while riding his fingers. In retaliation, he sucks on her clit and adds a third finger. There’s a bit of discomfort at the stretch, but she adapts soon enough. It’s good, not as thick as him but enough to get her off. It doesn’t take much longer before she’s coming, gasping as her orgasm hits.
He doesn’t even give her time to stop trembling before he’s standing up and cupping her arse with both of his hands. He slides into her in one deep thrust, both of them making a noise at the sensation. “So good,” he says, voice wrecked in a way that makes her tighten her cunt around him. He kisses her as he begins to move, nothing teasing or careful about it. They fuck against the shower wall, because this is definitely a fuck and not just sex. It’s making her toes curl, and she’s scratching fresh marks on his back as she gives as good as she’s getting. Animalistic is a word that crosses her mind before she stops being able to thing at all.
When he comes inside her, she’s close, so close, but she needs more than just penetration to find her own release. She’s frustrated, shifting around as much as she can to get the friction she needs, but he’s holding her tight. He finally finishes coming and loosens his hold. “Cormac!” She’s whining and demanding and doesn’t care because she’s so bloody close, and he’s just dazed and panting and his come is dripping out of her and coating her inner thigh and maybe she should just do it herself because it’s really not going to take much at all. He grips her wrist when she tries to do just that.
“Mine,” he says, smirking when she curses at him. “I will take care of my witch’s needs, Hermione.” He sinks to his knees and her eyes widen as he leans forward and begins to lick her again, lapping at his own come and hers. Merlin, that’s hot. She can’t even bring herself to protest being called his because it feels so good that it’s difficult to think. When his nose brushes against her clit, that’s all it takes. She’s coming hard, shuddering and making noises in a way that isn’t usual for her because she’s not normally so vocal with her enjoyment.
By the time she’s come down from her second orgasm, the shower water is frigid, and she’s feeling as dazed as he looked earlier. She slides down the wall, straddling him and leaning in for a kiss. “Bloody hell,” she whispers when they separate, foreheads pressed together as they just breathe. He wraps his arms around her, but they don’t move to get up or even turn off the water. They just sit like that, breathing and holding on to each other, neither one of them ready to let go.
End