With The First Ray Of Light

September 19th, 2000

Hermione’s body tensed as soon as she opened the bedroom door. The room was dark, and nothing seemed out of place; it appeared to be empty, but she knew better. She heard Harry’s boisterous laughter from down in the kitchen, soon joined by others, and knew it would be a while before anyone wandered upstairs to sleep.

Without saying a word, she stepped inside the room, every movement slow, careful, and with a hint of a smile slowly making its way to her lips. With a quick flick of her wand she closed the door behind her, leaving the room in almost complete darkness, the faint moonlight filtering through the open window only allowing her eyes to see dark shapes. She lowered her arm again, letting go of the wand and hearing it clatter to the floor.

She closed her eyes, concentrating on her hearing. She waited to hear his footsteps approaching, but there was no sound, no telltale sign of movement of any kind. A second later, hot breath caressed her skin, and she tilted her head to the side, moaning softly.

“Kingsley,” she breathed, and heard him chuckle behind her.

“How did you know I was here?” he asked in that deep, sensual voice that always made her shiver.

“I heard you move.”

“Liar,” he whispered against her skin, his lips ghosting over her shoulder, barely touching. “I made no sound, and you couldn’t have seen me, either. How did you know?”

“I don’t know,” she whispered, her voice weak already, even though he had barely even touched her. She really had no idea how she had known; he was right, she hadn’t seen him, or heard him, not even the scent of his skin had been noticeable, even though now it seemed to fill the air around her. “I just knew,” she said, and she felt him smile against her neck, seemingly satisfied by her answer. “When did you get back?” she asked him, trying to keep her voice strong as his arms slipped around her waist and pulled her back against him.

His hands moved down her body slowly, every touch making her skin burn for more. “I didn’t. Just sneaked out for tonight,” he said, as his fingers slid under her dress, his touch light, but its effect overwhelming. “Did you miss this?”

A whispered, “Yes,” was all she could manage, lost in the feeling of his hands, his lips on her, his body firm and strong against her back.

His hands caressed their way to her inner thighs, and then she felt his fingers press against her flesh, his nails raking up her thigh, not hard enough to really hurt, but enough to leave a mark as she cried out his name, her body arching against his touch

His lips trailed up her neck, their softness contrasting so deliciously with the roughness of his touch, the combination so perfect it made her knees go weak, and she had to lean back against him for support.

“You like that, don’t you?” he asked, and then bit on her earlobe as he trailed his hands up her thighs again. There was no need for her to reply, she was sure her body’s reaction to him was answer enough.

His hands left her legs and moved up her body, touching her lightly until he reached her shoulders, slowly slipping the straps off of them and letting her dress fall down to pool around her feet.

“So beautiful,” he murmured against her shoulder as he slipped his arms around her waist again, pulling her back.

He was still fully dressed behind her, and even as she felt the soft material of his robes against her skin, the warmth of his body reaching her through his clothes, it was a different contact that she longed for. She wanted to feel his skin against hers, wanted to feel that strong chest, those muscled arms against her with nothing between them. She wanted to feel him.

“I have something for you,” he said after a second, as a large, square, jewellery box floated to her. “Go ahead, open it,” he said when she hesitated, and she reached forward, opening the box.

“Sweet Merlin,” she gasped, her eyes wide as she saw the beautiful necklace inside the box, its black pearls almost the same tone of his skin.

“Happy Birthday,” he breathed against her ear.

Before she could say anything else, he reached forward and pulled the necklace out of the box, holding it in front of her. She tilted her head slightly, giving him room to clasp it around her neck.

Her hand moved automatically to the necklace, her fingers touching the smooth, cold pearls lightly. “It’s beautiful.”

“It’s not just any necklace,” he whispered huskily into her ear. “It was made just for you. I charmed it myself,” he added.

Before she could ask what he meant, she felt the necklace tighten around her neck for a few seconds, just a hint of what it could do to her, and the thought was enough to tear another moan from her lips. “I knew you’d like it,” he said, smiling against her cheek.

One of his hands slipped around her waist again, pulling her more firmly against him as the other one caressed her shoulders, her neck, her jaw, and then moved to her hair, untying it before grasping some of her curls and pulling her head back sharply.

“I have something else,” he said in that same husky tone, letting go of her hair and reaching behind him. A second later his hand moved in front of her, letting her see a long strip of black material.

Her breath caught in her chest when she realised what he was holding, and she felt her heart speed up. She had never been blindfolded before, and the thought of him doing that to her excited her more than she would have imagined.

He held the cloth still for a few moments, giving her time to say no, but when it became clear she wouldn’t, he reached forward with his other hand and carefully tied it over her eyes.

His hands moved from the blindfold to her back, taking a moment to unclasp her bra and let it slide down her arms before moving lower, his fingers hooking around the waistband of her knickers and slowly pulling them down her legs, letting them pool on the floor with the rest of her clothes.

His fingers trailed up her sides as he stood again, and then his lips nuzzled her neck for a moment. Just as she tilted her head to the side, giving him better access, he stepped back, breaking all contact between them.

She stood still, waiting in silence, wanting nothing more than for him to touch her again, but he didn’t. He didn’t make so much as a sound, she couldn’t even hear him breathe, but she knew he was still there, standing close to her, watching.

There was something strangely erotic in standing still, naked and blindfolded, feeling the weight of his gaze on her skin, especially when he was still fully dressed and completely in control of the situation.

“Turn around.”

His tone made her shiver, and she did as he said without hesitation. He fell silent again, for moments that felt eternal as she waited, waited for another word, another caress, the only sounds reaching her ears those of her own breathing and her heart beating wildly, expectantly.

Suddenly, she felt his breath against her lips, so close, so very close. She inched her head forward, wanting to close the distance between their mouths, to finally feel his lips on hers after so long, but he moved back before she could, staying just out of reach.

She stood still again, feeling him in front of her, wanting nothing more than his touch, but again she waited, waited until she could think of nothing but the feel of his breath against her skin, the warmth of his body so very close to hers. She waited until her mind swarmed with images of them together, memories of the stolen hours they had spent exploring each other. And just when she thought she couldn’t take it any more, she felt him lean forward, his tongue tracing her lower lip.

Such a small touch, such an unbelievable reaction.

She leaned forward, trying to find his lips, but again he moved just out of reach.

“Please,” she whimpered, and the next second his lips crashed against hers in a kiss that left her breathless, a kiss that left her entire body weak and tingling with desire.

When he pulled back, her lips tried to follow him, to continue the kiss, but he was again out of reach, and she was left standing in the middle of the bedroom, naked, flustered, aching for his touch and unable to do anything about it.

She focused on controlling her breathing as she waited for another touch, another kiss, and when she felt him lean closer again she didn’t move. His lips ghosted over hers, and she simply gave in to the feel of it, doing nothing to increase the contact. She gave up control, and that was just what he had been waiting for.

He kissed her again, deeply this time, with a hunger, a need as strong as the one she felt, their teeth clashing and their lips bruising as they melted into each other’s mouth, their tongues exploring, fighting, deepening the kiss.

She reached forward, needing to touch him, but his fingers quickly wrapped around her wrists and pushed her arms back down. After a few more seconds, he broke the kiss and let go of her wrists, stepping away again.

“On the bed,” he said, and she was pleased to hear his voice hoarse, slightly breathless.

It took her a moment to remember where she was standing, and then she took a small step back, and then another, until she felt the edge of the bed against the back of her knees; she reached behind her with her hands next, and carefully sat down. The next second he was kissing her again, deeply, forcefully, pushing her back until she was lying down on the bed. Then he leaned down against her, but there were no clothes between them anymore. It was just skin against skin, hot and firm and maddening, and she hadn’t even noticed she was moaning into the kiss, her back arching until her body was pushing against him, trying to get as much contact as she could.

Then his mouth was on her neck, kissing, licking, nibbling, biting, and she couldn’t see him, and it felt all the more intense. He pressed her hands against the mattress when she tried to touch him, and she could feel his smile against her shoulder, his lips against her collarbone, the hollow on her throat, the valley between her breasts.

She moaned and called out his name as his lips wrapped around her nipple, his teeth teasing it into a tight peak before moving on to the other. The rest of his body had moved away, and his mouth was all that was touching her.

“Please,” she whimpered as he kissed a trail down her stomach, her hips, her thighs, her calves, never touching the spot where she needed him most. Then he was moving up again, nibbling on her thighs as he grabbed her hips and pulled her forward, closer to the edge of the bed.

His tongue flicked over her clit, and her back arched at the sudden contact, his hands keeping her hips in place as he did it again, and again. But it wasn’t enough, she needed more contact, needed…

His hands moved down to her thighs, spreading them further before slipping a thick finger inside of her, slowly, teasingly, giving her a little bit of what she had been silently begging for, but not enough.

Gods, she wanted to see him, wanted to watch the hunger in his eyes as he pleasured her, wanted to see the fire in his gaze as he watched her getting closer and closer to the edge. But the blindfold made every touch, every caress and every kiss so much more intense. It was as if by taking away her sight, he had awoken every other sense in her. She could hear his breathing, fast and deep, and she could hear every sound he made against her skin. She could feel his skin on her, even the lightest touch, so scorching, so powerful.

Another finger slipped inside her, curling just right, rubbing against that perfect spot, but he was controlling his every move, measuring her every reaction, pushing her to the brink only to stop before she could fall over, then starting again, stopping every time until she was whimpering and begging him to let her come.

The orgasm was so intense that every muscle in her body tensed and relaxed at the same time as she arched into his fingers, into his mouth, wanting more, needing more as a scream was ripped from her throat.

Then it was over and she was breathless, and his hands were on her hips again, carefully pulling her to her feet before turning her around. She felt him press against her back then, before he whispered, “Crawl onto the bed.”

Her body was moving before she even realised it, doing just as he asked, waiting for another touch, another kiss, anything and everything he would give her. She moaned when she felt him kneel behind her, his hand caressing her from the small of her back to her neck before pushing her head down against the mattress as he thrust into her.

His pace was hard and fast, his hands pulling her hips back every time he thrust forward. His hand buried in her hair and pulled her head back until she was kneeling with her back flush against his chest. That was when the necklace began to tighten, slowly pressing more and more, just as he sped his movements.

She moved her hands to her neck, touching the cold pearls but not trying to pull them away. She rested her head on his shoulder as he fucked her, the necklace loosening enough to let her gasp for breath, then tightening again, making her mind cloud as every nerve ending in her body became alive. He pulled her hair back tighter as he bit down on her neck, and she would have screamed, but there was not enough air in her lungs to utter a single sound as she came again, hearing him curse behind her as he tensed and came, too.

The necklace loosened as the last shivers from the orgasm died away, and she gasped for breath, Kingsley’s arm around her waist the only thing keeping her up. She felt his hand in her hair move, pulling the blindfold away before lowering her onto the bed and lying down beside her.

She closed her eyes and tried to will her heart to slow down as she moved closer to Kingsley, resting her head on his shoulder and wrapping an arm around his waist. He moved a few strands of hair away from her face and she looked up to see him smiling at her. He tilted his head down to kiss her forehead before whispering, “Happy birthday.”