Hunter and Prey

Hermione punched him in the stomach with everything she could muster. It was like hitting teak but he still jerked back and she punched him again, this time in the face. She split his lip. His blood dripped down onto her bare breasts. Fenrir grabbed her left wrist then after a brief scuffle and another punch to the jaw, secured the right, pinning her to the floor. He immediately began to thrust vigorously inside her, excited by her fury.

“You bastard!” Hermione shrieked and tried to kick him but she couldn’t twist enough to get the correct angle with his weight on top of her. She jabbed her heels into his calves and pitched herself forward to crack him a good’un with her forehead. Fenrir dodged aside, far more familiar with unarmed combat than she. He rocked his hips to rub the sweet places inside her and make her pant like she was in heat.

“You want to hit me?” He goaded her, the damage she had done already mending. He was not a young man any more but he was far from feeble and he’d take a dozen bruises if it meant seeing the fire in her eyes. “Or you want to hit your husband?” Fenrir had demanded Malfoy tell him what had happened while he was locked away. Lucius loved the sound of his own voice and had talked and talked but he had added that bit of news out of spite. “He took another mate, didn’t he? A real witch. Not like you.”

Fenrir had murdered men with his bare hands and revelled in it. He had been a werewolf for a long time, living with bloodlust every day. So when Hermione’s face contorted with killing rage he recognised it. Tightening his grip on her wrists, he held her down with his full strength as she thrashed under him. The witch writhed and got a hand free, lashing out at him furiously while he mated with her.

Hermione hit him and scratched him and pinched and would have bitten if he had come within range of her teeth. He grunted once or twice but she thought that was from pleasure not pain and she grew more furious. How dare he not hurt! How dare he think he could hurt her and not be hurt back! How dare he hurt her and lie to her!

He stopped when she started to cry. Her hand still beat against him but now sobs shook her. Her face screwed up with tears but she didn’t look away from him. His bitch wasn’t crying because of anything he had done to her. That made him angry. If anyone broke her, Fenrir wanted it to be him.

It could still be him. The dark voice inside, his hunting spirit, told him what to do. If he wanted this bitch to whelp for him then he needed to rut with her mind as well as her body. Fenrir rolled onto his back with the witch astride him and put his arms around her as she wept against his chest. Her own weight slid her down onto him. It took only a little thrusting from his hips to get her body to match him. She wasn’t thinking, she was lost in her tears but humans were just animals and all animals sought comfort in their distress.

Hermione had been angry for so long that suddenly loosing it had left her empty. The sorrow she hadn’t allowed herself to feel since kicking Ron out flowed into the void left by her rage. She huddled against the warm body beneath her so overcome she didn’t care who it was. She was so fucking tired of soldiering on, being the reliable one. Being a good daughter, studying hard, fighting a war, helping with the wounded because there were so many, then all the funerals, going back to Hogwarts to graduate, working hard, getting married, working harder...

Fenrir sensed the witch calm and eased his grasp on her to run his hands along her back. Her thighs clenched around him as she rubbed herself along his hardness. Hermione moved slowly against him, wanting something to take the pain away. Don’t think, she told herself, don’t open your eyes. This is just a dream. Let it be a dream and you will wake up in the morning and everything will be alright. She brought herself to an orgasm then didn’t even twitch when the man beneath her climaxed and howled.

This wouldn’t last, Fenrir held her as she subsided. She didn’t smell like surrender. She was weak now like you were weak after a long, wearying hunt. He had slept for weeks in the kennel where the Ministry had locked him. Slept and ate their bland food and let himself rest. That is what she needed to do now. He would use that and the muggle child to keep her with him until she got so heavy with his cubs she could not rid herself of them.

Then he’d kill the brat and leave his bitch to whelp while he hunted.