Merciless Flirt

A/N: Thank you all so much for the reviews! I am glad you are enjoying the story. And I completely sympathize with Hermione and Charlie, however there is something you should know. I set out writing this story with the intention that every time I was interrupted from the writing process they too would be interrupted from their intimate entanglements. For this chapter I’ve taken to sealing myself off in the basement with no mobile and no distractions. ^_^



A fluffy purple towel separated Hermione’s wet bum from the soft linens of her bed. She sat on the edge near one of the four posters, knees pulled up to her chest, her lower lip pressed firm between her teeth. A toilet emergency, who in their right mind had ever heard of a toilet emergency? She didn’t want to dwell on the thought. Arthur had handed her a towel, stepped out of the room, and let her leave before he’d usurped her bathroom. Charlie had remained silent and had pressed himself up against the shower wall, choosing to stay in the shower and wait it out.



She flopped back on the bed and released a frustrated sigh. She’d had him in the bloody shower; Charlie Weasley in all his naked glory standing before her in a steamy shower with an even steamier snog session, only to be interrupted and of all the people to be interrupted by; it made her blood boil. Time elapsed in slow motion and Hermione could no longer tell how long it had been since she’d been so rudely displaced from her own bathroom.



A soft knock fell against her bedroom door. She shoot up from the bed. Her heart leapt up into her throat. What if Arthur had pulled back the shower curtain and found Charlie there? Logically he had no reason for pulling back the shower curtain, but her mind as of late seemed to jump to such awful conclusions that she could hardly make rational assumptions in any situation regarding her and Charlie.



When she didn’t answer the knock right away it sounded again. “Who— who is it?” she asked.



“It’s me…”



Hermione rushed to the door, threw it open and smiled. Charlie stood in the doorway with a dark blue towel tied around his waist. Water was still dripping down his torso but judging by the way the towel was wrapped, he’d had some time to be relieved of his erect state. She frowned for a moment, thinking it was somehow because of something she had done, and then realized that it was probably very difficult to maintain an erection as one stayed hidden behind a shower curtain while one’s father passed a bowel movement over the loo.



“Are you going to let me in or make me stand in the doorway?” he asked.



She stepped aside and shut the door behind him. He took a moment to take in her room. It wasn’t as small as he had remembered Ginny’s old room being. Some modifications had been made; a deep closet where no closet had been before on the far wall, bookshelves and a large four-poster bed, and Ginny’s tiny vanity table had been transformed into a large dressing table and mirror. Charlie nodded his silent approval.



“Sorry,” she muttered.



“What for?” he asked, turning around to see her seated on the edge of the bed.



“For Arthur—”



“Hermione, you had no way of knowing he was going to have a ‘toilet emergency’ and besides, what else could you have done?” he chuckled. Charlie made a mental note not to allow his mother to make anymore prune and tamale casserole as it apparently did not sit well in his father’s stomach.



“I don’t know,” she said.



Charlie moved to sit beside her on the bed. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and all too easily her head fell against his shoulder. Her hair was wet, chilly and dripping against his skin, but it stirred his blood to life, and he could feel himself beginning to harden. The girl drove him wild, and despite the awkward interruption, he still wanted her.



“I think that maybe—” her words were swallowed in his mouth as he caught her off-guard with a crushing kiss. She practically bent backward as she sank down into the bed, his hands on her shoulders doing less guiding and more pushing as his tongue sought to explore her warm cavernous mouth. Hermione moaned, the towel preventing his skin from warming hers. Try as she might her fingers seemed to fumble with the fabric and she couldn’t shimmy it off her skin.



His kiss was searing, hot and passionate, emblazoned with a fiery need. His lips moved almost fiercely against hers, warm velvet tongue caressing and laving over her own tongue as he kissed her. Fingers tangled in her hair, and she could hardly breathe; his weight bearing down on her, his kiss stealing the very air from her lungs.



Hermione pressed her hands against his chest, squirming a bit. The kiss was too perfect, she didn’t want to stop for fear that they would somehow never start again. She could feel his manhood, returned to full attention, pressing against her stomach despite the two layers of towel between her flesh and his. She was no longer chilled from the shower, and all thoughts of Arthur and the toilet had fled from her mind.



His lips slowly left her mouth, trailing a steamy path along her sensitive skin. Hermione could not help but shiver, and she moaned a little as his hands found the towel that was covering her. He wasted time in pulling it from her body and dropping it over the side of the bed, and then did the same with his. Warm skin met warm skin and her body was spazzing at the sensation. She tried to tug on his shoulders but her fingers curled over his muscles as his sweet kiss fell against the very tip of her stiffened nipple.



“Charlie…” she groaned, as he laved his tongue ever so slowly around the darkened bud. Her nipples were unusually small and seemed even smaller when erect, a fact that Hermione was dreadfully embarrassed by, but she didn’t seem to notice as he continued his ministrations. “Charlie…” she groaned again,” tapping on his shoulder. She hissed as he captured her nipple between his lips and sucked, nipping her ever so slightly. Waves of pleasure shot through her body, straight to her core and she could feel moisture pooling there. “Charlie!”



He lifted his head from her breast and gazed down into her eyes. The first two times she’d called his name had sounded blissful and serene, making him want to have her all the more. But that third time had worried him. “Am I hurting you?” he asked, a look of concern drawing into his eyes.



“No.” she said but proceeded to sit up anyhow. Charlie back pedaled to allow her room. A frown drew across his face as Hermione reached for the towel on the floor, wrapped herself in it and stood up.



He didn’t know what to say. What had he done wrong? His brow furrowed with confusion and a bit of hurt. “Hermione, I’m sorry I didn’t—”



“No, Charlie. It’s not you—”



“I got ahead of myself, I should have asked—”



“Charlie!” she cried and sat back down on the edge of the bed next to him. She forced her index finger against his lips. He fell silent and gazed at her, his erection hidden between his legs, though she worried that perhaps her sudden break from their entanglement had put him off the idea. “I just don’t want any interruptions.” She said.



For a moment Charlie looked as if she has spoken another language to him. But then her “words became clear as crystal and he smiled a bit of a lopsided grin and kissed her fingertip. “Right.” He said.



The blush she had been trying to fight off managed to creep up into her cheeks. She stood and faced her bedroom door. It was shut. With a calculated moment running through her head, she marched to her vanity table and pulled out her wand from what appeared to be a very intricate looking flower vase. She pointed the wand at the door. “Defigo.” She said with a double backwards swish and two flicks. A blue bolt blasted forth from her wand and wrapped itself around the doorknob.



“Locking spell?” he asked. It sounded similar to a standard locking spell only there had been some very fancy wand waving involved in Hermione’s version.



"Advanced locking spell,” she smirked. “Haven’t worked all the kinks out of it, but in theory the only person that should be able to lift that curse is me.”



Charlie nodded. He knew Hermione was a bright witch, but this was somewhat astounding. The girl was modifying spells to suit her own personal needs. To say the least he was impressed.



“Muffliatas silentium,” she waved her wand again, this time in a circular pattern toward the door. “Modified muffliato charm,” she said. “Fills the ears of anyone close by with a disturbing silence.” Hermione walked back over to her vanity and deposited her wand into the vase. “There.”



Charlie had managed to move back onto her bed, sitting up near the headboard. Hermione was all too eager to crawl back onto the bed with him. She let her towel fall at the floor. “Nox,” she muttered. The light in her room flickered out of existence plunging them into sensual darkness.



“I want to see you…” he said.



Hermione thought on his request for a moment. Putting the lights back on seemed trashy and she wasn’t entirely sure how comfortable she was with the idea. And candlelight just seemed cheesy. She closed her eyes, concentrating deeply. “Doloricus fenestra” she muttered. It had worked. The blind over her window had risen up and bright silvery moonlight poured in.



Charlie wrapped his arms around her and helped her back onto the bed in a more comfortable lying position. This time Hermione did not resist. His hands made quick work of travelling over her body and in mere moments Hermione was moaning, her hips arching to his touch.



His hands were rough, calloused and careworn from his years of working with dragons, but to Hermione they felt delicious. Tender hands would have felt too much like her own hands roaming all over her body. He traced the curve of her hip down her thigh, caressing her flesh and she panted, desire lighting her body on fire. His fingers fell to rest over her kneecap for the briefest of moments before slowly crawling up her inner thigh.



Hermione closed her eyes, her thighs parted, awaiting his touch. His fingers crept up her soft flesh, trailing right to the seam of her leg, his thumb resting in that soft juncture where her torso stopped and her leg began. He placed his palm flat on her skin, tracing it over her curly mound and slowly moved his hand down the inner thigh of her opposite leg. He had come so close and yet denied her the feeling she was so desperate for.



Her lips twisted into a fowl frown, ready to protest, to cry out that she needed to feel him there when she whimpered, feeling his tongue against the inside of her thigh. Her fingers curled against the bed, gripping the soft lavender linens beneath her. Warm slick velvet traced its way over the path his fingers had just followed. Slowly up into that soft juncture once more, and he paused for a moment, breathing her in. She was wet and he could feel the heat and moisture of her sex against his face. It took every ounce of control he had not to plunge his tongue into her slick folds and taste the sweet musky smell.



As his lips approached her mound, his lick turned to feather light kisses against her skin; the soft curls tickling his face as he moved. Hermione groaned as his tongue continued its path back down the other side of her thigh. Once again he began to lick her flesh, stroking two fingers gently through her curls, the teasing sensation making her legs tremble.



“Please…” she whimpered. It was torture. His breath was hot against her and she could feel him just there, almost exactly there where she needed to feel him, but every time he would be right at the spot, he would skip over it and leave her careening at the peak. She needed his touch. “Charlie…”



He’d pulled his head back a bit as he bowed between her thighs. Strong hands pushed gingerly against her legs, parting them a bit further as he nestled down and gazed at her. “So beautiful…” he muttered. Charlie Weasley was a vagina man. Breasts were nice but to please a woman at the very core of her being; to be allowed to touch and taste, to truly experience the thing that defined her womanhood; it nearly had him coming then and there against the sheets. And her moans that begged for his touch only furthered his pleasure.



“Charlie…” she whimpered again when he placed a feather light kiss against her folds. He smiled against her skin, denuded of all hair below her mound. Her labia were swollen and pink, thick with her moisture and he closed his eyes, breathing her in. She was a woman he had desired for some time, though he’d never imagined he’d actually end up with her like this. Though his hands were rough, his lips were soft and Hermione practically screamed as he pressed his tongue against her perineum and made a languid stroke up through her folds.



She almost screamed again though this time in frustration as his tongue stopped just short of her clitoris, the tiny nerve bundle pulsing and screaming out, craving the sensation of touch. Her knuckles were white, practically numb from the grip she held on the sheets beneath her. Hermione tried arching her hips forward, tried nudging her sex against his mouth only to have him pull back slightly, just out of her reach.



“Charlie Weasley if you don’t touch me I’m going to— ooh!” her threat went unheard as she gasped, his tongue pressing hard against her clit. Little zaps of electricity shot through her body and her muscles tensed. His tongue began to flicker against her sensitive nub and Hermione was moaning, arching her hips to feel more of him. He would bring her to release before he would indulge himself further.



Rapid flicks of the tip of his tongue against her nub were alternated with languid thick strokes as he flattened the muscle over her nerve endings. He drew his lips around the tiny bud, edging it out from its tiny hood and let a deep hum reverberate through his mouth. The vibrations echoed and bounced against her clitoris and Hermione practically screamed. It was unlike anything she’d ever felt.



Heart racing, body tensing, muscles groaning with the need for release, she arched her hips forward. Charlie, with her clit pressed between his lips, pushed his lips together and ever so slightly nipped her. She shrieked, her body throwing into a full spasm, and he began once more to rapidly flicker his tongue against her sensitive bundle of nerves.



An orgasm the likes of which Hermione had never felt rippled through her body, wave after wave of pleasure shot through her body and she shook with the spasm, her soft feminine nether lips squirting sweet secretions as she came. Her eyes rolled back in her head and her fingers went slack against the bed as she panted; trying to regain her breath.



Charlie slowed the flicker of his tongue and then trailed it down between her folds. The sweet taste of her release met his lips and he groaned against her womanhood. Thick strokes of his tongue had Hermione whimpering as he licked her folds massaging her slit; the tip of his nose making contact with her all too sensitive clit.



He was in heaven, the thick scent swimming through his nostrils, making his head reel with dizzying pleasure. She tasted tart but sweet with a fragrant musky note. Charlie continued stroking his tongue across her slit until he felt her fingers tugging in his hair. He had not heard her whimpers and pleas. His eyes fluttered open and he rose to meet her gaze.



She looked frazzled, exhausted almost, her lips still trembling. “Too…too sensitive,” she panted and then collapsed back on the bed. It had been an orgasm to end all orgasms. And his tongue against her labia had felt strangely inviting, but he had managed to continue stimulating her clit, which had become so pleasured it was painful. It had been a strange mix of feelings and she needed a moment to recuperate.



Charlie pulled himself up beside her and rested a hand on one of her breasts. Her body radiated warmth, and he smiled. He brought his lips over hers and placed a gentle kiss to her mouth before prodding his tongue for entry. Surprisingly, Hermione kissed him, her tongue eager to stroke against his. Most women in his previous experience had not been fond of their own taste.



She found it strange that she was so eager to kiss him. The handful of times men had bothered to pleasure her in the manner which Charlie had just done, she hadn’t cared for the taste of herself on their lips. It wasn’t that she tasted foul, but it was a mental condition that she could not bring herself to accept, though with Charlie she didn’t even notice. Her arms wrapped quickly around his shoulders and she tried to pull him atop her.



But he resisted. “Ah, no…” he smiled.



Hermione closed her eyes. “Please, no more teasing.” She whimpered. She was loath to admit that the teasing had made her orgasm that much more amazing.



Charlie leaned back guiding her over to the edge of the bed until he had situated himself comfortably on his back. Hermione rolled over to face him but did not have time to truly appreciate his body. Using both hands, he grabbed her hips and pulled her up to straddle his torso. She remained there for a moment trying to drink in how utterly amazing he looked. Silvery light from the moon cast shadows over his face, but she could see his features clearly.



His face was slightly wider than Ron and Bill’s, but longer than the twins. He had his mother’s eyes, like all of his siblings, and the signature long red hair. His chest was carved nearly to perfection, she supposed it wasn’t easy working with dragons, and several scars and faded burn marks founded that assumption. “Like what you see?” he teased.



“Yes.” She said. “Strong…” her hands gripped his shoulders and squeezed slowly down the length of his arms. Her hips wriggled back a little so that her still wet warmth was pressed against his erection. “Muscular…” she whispered as she dragged her palms across the flat of his chest. Her thumb traced a scar that curved around to the side of his ribs.



“Nasty Norwegian Ridgeback…” he muttered and closed his eyes. Her fingers felt like heaven. They were tiny and smooth, not at all like his own hands. Woman didn’t often bother to explore his body, the scars and burn marks turned them off a fair bit.



“Flabby…” she said, though her voice maintained her seductive tone as she gave his stomach a slap. It was practically solid and had stung her palm a little.



Charlie opened his eyes and then rolled him up into his head. He pulled her down atop him with one quick movement and thrust his tongue up into her mouth.



Hermione groaned into their kiss, a sensation she couldn’t get enough of. His fingers tangled in her hair and his hips arched up beneath her. She broke the kiss and fluttered her eyelashes against his cheek as she trailed her mouth down his jaw.



But his hands stopped her. “No.” he said.



“What?” she asked, eyes wide with innocence.



“I can’t let you return the favour,” he said.



“Why not?” she was practically pouting, once again lowering her lips, this time to his neck. She began her trail of kisses once more, wriggling her hips back further to allow her better access as she moved down his body.



But again his hands stopped her just as she reached his navel. “Charlie…”



“Hermione, as amazing as I know that’s going to feel, and trust me, I want to feel it sometime…” it was his turn to blush. “If you do, I’ll be spent for a bit. It took everything I had not to come while pleasing you.”



It hadn’t been what she was expecting, but it was somehow more endearing. “Right,” she said, unsure of how else to respond.



“And I want to be inside of you,” his words were stronger, more like a growl of yearning than a request of needing.



His gruff voice sent shivers up her spine. “Yes…” she agreed.



Charlie grabbed her hips and lifted her easily off his torso. She was held aloft for a moment while he situated his hips and then smirked up at her. “I like a girl on top,” he said. What guy hadn’t said that before, but his reasons were different.



“That so— ooh!” she cried.



With a heavy force Charlie had slammed Hermione down against his erection. It had been perfect alignment and his long, thick, throbbing erection had plunged up deep inside of her. She groaned, and wailed, trying to gyrate her hips against him, but he held her still with his firm grip. “Please, Charlie…” she whimpered.



He was filling her, stretching her, in her handful of previous encounters, she could not recall someone quite so thick. He was long, but no more than an inch or two past average, but his girth filled her, hitting several new spots inside her which she had not felt previously. Her eyes were fluttering open and shut as she tried desperately to struggle against his hold. She needed to move, to feel that friction.



And just as she thought she could stand it no longer he gripped her hips and began to bounce her hard, up and down, against his throbbing cock. Hermione’s breasts bounced up and down, nipples hard, her hair flying around her head with his rough motions. His hips arched up, thrusting into her in a rhythmic motion that made her tremble. Short quick thrusts up into her, but he was pushing up plenty deep.



“I love…this view…” he growled, eyeing her breasts as they bounced. Hermione had a fuller figure than most girls her age. Curvy hips, supple breasts with the tiniest nipples he had ever seen, but they were pleasing to watch. He was grateful for something to grip as he pumped up into her, and it made for a cushion as she ground down on him.



Hermione was panting, her lips dry, so she licked them. She could feel her core tightening, the heat building. He was bringing her close to the edge again. Never in her sexual experiences had she ever had more than one orgasm in the same go with someone. Men had made her come, though more often than not she’d just ended up faking it. There would be no need with Charlie.



He could feel her walls clenching on him, every stroke becoming tighter. She was practically wailing his name, and he was surprised at her vocality. Just as she was about to find that sweet release, Hermione pitched forward and was thrown from Charlie’s thrusting member. She cried out, but no audible words came from her lips.



She’d landed on her stomach but before she could protest her hips were grabbed and yanked back against his prick. He’d penetrated her again. Her knees wobbled as she was quickly maneuvered into a downward dog position. Charlie was on his knees, pumping hard and fast, almost too fast, into her tight slick cunt. This angle allowed him much deeper penetration and she screamed out with every thrust.



Her climax swept over her, muscles tightening and twitching. It was strong, tearing through her body like fiery white lightning. She shuddered and nearly collapsed, but his hand swung beneath her torso and held her up as he continued to plow into her from behind. A series of hard heavy thrusts slammed into her and she felt his organ tighten.



Charlie closed his eyes, reaching back to grip one of the bedposts as his orgasm ripped through him. Bursts of seed shot from his tip into her steamy cavern. Her muscles were still rippling from her climax, milking him for every ounce. He groaned, holding her as best he could with one arm around her stomach and the other gripping the bedpost. He shook, trembling and quivering and as he felt his spasms slowing he pushed Hermione forward.



She fell on her stomach, twitching and panting. Charlie’s knees collapsed from holding his weight and he fell forward on his stomach next to her. Both were panting, chests heaving, bodies slack. Her eyes were hooded with post-euphoric lust. “I want to do that again.”



Charlie closed his eyes. “Not any time in the next twenty minutes…” he muttered and tried to gently roll onto his side.



“Twenty minutes?” her eyes went wide. “I meant, perhaps, maybe the morning.”



Charlie chuckled. “You think I’m sleeping over?”



Hermione swallowed hard. Somehow some strange reality came crashing back onto her head and her brain suddenly switched on. “No, no, of course not.” She said.



Charlie quirked his eyebrow high up on his forehead. “You don’t want me to stay?”



Her face flushed. “I—”



“I was only teasing. I’d very much like to stay.” He said clearing the air. A wave of visible relief swept across Hermione’s face.



“I’d like you stay.” She said. Hermione rolled onto her back and rested her head back against the pillow. She closed her eyes for just a moment.



“Your nipples are tiny.” He said.



She flushed and threw her arms across her chest to hide them. But Charlie pulled her arms away. “I like them, they are lovely, and very unique,” he said. She’d always been self conscious toward them, and had always been asked about them, but never complimented. This made her smile.



“I like your scars,” she smiled.



Charlie rolled his eyes. “They’re dreadful.”



“Hardly,” she said, her voice thick with exhaustion. “They tell stories, I think. And they make you seem brave.” She nestled her head back to the pillow once more and scooted her body closer to his. With much shifting and wriggling she managed to slide herself under the top sheet of her bed.



“Going to sleep on me? No staying up and talking or playing chess?” he teased.



“Charlie, you wore me out. It was incredible, but if you’re going to go again in another twenty minutes I need a rest.”



He shifted his body about and snuggled under the sheet against her. They shifted onto their sides and he pulled her close, spooning her to his body. “We could talk about the weather.”



“Charlie,” she said, eyes closed.



“Or we could talk about how that compared with our previous encounters,” he smirked a bit. None so far, in his opinion had been quite so pleasing.



“Charlie,” she said again.



“Yes?”



“Shut up.” Hermione tilted her head back over her neck and placed a kiss against his lips. “I need a rest.”



He kissed her lips in return and pulled her closer to him. “Right.” He too closed his eyes with a smile on his lips. She had said she’d liked his scars. But she hadn’t seen his back, ever in his recollection, in fact. It didn’t matter he doubted she’d need to see it anyhow. With thoughts of scars and tiny nipples on his mind he drifted into a light slumber curled next to her.



A/N: Thank you so much for reading. Now please give me a review. Let me know what you thought. It finally happened! ;-) And don\'t you worry- perhaps some more to come.