She Never Knew
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
8,370
Reviews:
19
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
8,370
Reviews:
19
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
She Never Knew
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters used in the story, only the plot line in which I throw them into.
A/N: I hope you enjoy this, I wrote it all in one sitting, a strange occurence for me.
She Never Knew
She never knew that she liked the feel of rough hands until she felt his rough hands on her tits, the coarseness of the flesh causing her nipples to harden like diamonds at the first touch of his palms to her person.
His hands could turn her on like nothing else on his body, a mere touch in a restaurant and she would be instantly wet. A caress against her arm while dancing and she would want to drag him outside and shag him. And best of all is when she would be riding him for all that she was worth and his hands would be on her hips, guiding her with rough strokes.
She never knew that she liked rough hands until she was with him.
She never knew she liked tattoos until she found the one that stretched lazily across his stomach. A Chinese Fireball sitting atop his navel with its tail wrapped around the indentation where the umbilical once was.
She traced the tattoo as she sucked him off, sitting between his knees and stroking the length of his erection with one hand while the other idly traced the dragon’s head, down its back and around its tail. When she reached the end of the tail, the miniature Fireball would breathe out a jet of fire and the scorching heat of it would cause him to throw his head back and jerk his hips up into her mouth, pouring his seed which she swallowed greedily.
She never knew that she liked tattoos until she was with him.
She never knew that she liked dirty talk until he fucked her for the first time, bent over his parent’s bed and taking her from behind while the party went on downstairs, everyone oblivious to what was happening upstairs.
“I can feel you, so fucking wet from knowing that someone could walk in, any time,” he had murmured into her ear as his cock slid in and out of her tight cunt. “Like me fucking so you so hard, want more, don’t you, little whore? Want me to fuck you till you can’t walk or move or even breathe you’ll be so exhausted.” It continued and they continued and they were not missed from the party.
She never knew that she liked dirty talk until she was with him.
She never knew that she liked piercings until she was lying on her back with her legs spread eagerly as he licked his way down her body and dragged the ball of his tongue-ring across her navel.
His head dipped between her legs and it was when the little metal ball touched her clit that she knew she was lost forever to whatever this man would want to do to her. Not only was he amazing at oral, but throw in that bit of metal and she was coming two or three times before he thrust into her and made her come again while shoving his tongue and the ball into her mouth and letting her suck her taste off of it.
She never knew that she liked piercings until she was with him.
She never knew that she liked a little pain with her pleasure until he brought her back a gift when he was away for two weeks on business only six months into their relationship.
He had practise with whips and when the soft, buttered leather fell across her back in sharp strokes she screamed out loud for more. He had used it on her back, her tits, her arse, her thighs, anywhere he could reach. She had been a willing participant and still he found the need to restrain her to the ceiling with magical bonds. When the whip finally hit the floor and her bonds came free, she was on the ground a scant millisecond before he was inside her, fucking her harder than he ever had before and she knew she wouldn’t be able to walk the next day, and it only turned her on more.
She never knew that she liked pain until she was with him.
She never knew that she liked red hair until she had to hold onto it for support while he was fucking her against a wall outside a dingy nightclub that she had been intent on visiting and he deeply disapproved of.
Her knees gave out when he snuck his hand under her skirt to find her knickerless, his short red hair the only thing keeping her up until he lifted her arse and slid her wet cunt over his rock-hard cock. She held onto that hair for dear life and he took her hard and rough against the brick wall and as she came she screamed into his neck and bit down where the short hairs were on the back of his neck.
She never knew that she liked red hair until she was with him.
She never knew that she liked freckles until he cried for the first time in her presence and she kissed and licked away his tears, noticing for the first time how his freckles were sprinkled across his nose like cinnamon.
She liked to count his freckles, though she knew that she would never be able to count them all. Her eyes would trace the ones on his chest as he fucked her up against walls or trees or any vertical surface. They would count the ones on his arms as he took her from behind. They would play dot-to-dot with the ones on his nose as he made love to her missionary.
Much like right now in fact. His rough hands were smoothing over her breasts and teasing her nipples to hardness before he suckled them into his mouth. The Fireball on his navel was breathing fire softly and she could feel it against her tummy. He wasn’t talking dirty; the first time since she had started shagging him. He was making love to her because it was a year after the first time they had shagged on his parent’s bed. His tongue was in her mouth now, the cold metal ball rolling across her tongue and he made love to her mouth at the same speed his cock was plunging in and out of her pussy. They had started the night with a bit of rough foreplay—his infamous whip coming into play—but that had soon turned into frenzied kissing and eventually lovemaking.
She looked into his deep brown eyes as his sweaty red hair fell into his eyes, then her eyes flitted across his face, counting the freckles that were splashed across the bridge of his nose.
“Would you give me a kiss for every one of my freckles?” he asked in a bit of a strained voice, near to climax.
She moaned and one of his rough fingers found her clit. “It would take a very long time,” she said, knowing by now that there were an uncountable number of freckles on his face, let alone the rest of his body.
“How about the rest of our lives?” he asked, stopping the movement of his hips for a moment as he tried to make the moment last.
“What?” she asked, throwing her head back as his finger touched her clit again.
“Marry me,” he demanded, wiping the hair back from his forehead and he started moving again, speeding up their lovemaking, increasing the pace to faster than what it was before.
“Marry—marry you?” she asked breathlessly.
“Yes,” he growled as he came, twisting her clit.
“Yes,” she moaned as she tumbled over the edge of oblivion, cradled in the arms of the man she loved. “Yes,” she said, “yes, I’ll marry you,” she sighed.
Hermione Granger never knew that she could love someone as much as she loved Charlie Weasley.
And they called her a know-it-all…
A/N: Please review, I really do live off of them and I need them to survive...
A/N: I hope you enjoy this, I wrote it all in one sitting, a strange occurence for me.
She never knew that she liked the feel of rough hands until she felt his rough hands on her tits, the coarseness of the flesh causing her nipples to harden like diamonds at the first touch of his palms to her person.
His hands could turn her on like nothing else on his body, a mere touch in a restaurant and she would be instantly wet. A caress against her arm while dancing and she would want to drag him outside and shag him. And best of all is when she would be riding him for all that she was worth and his hands would be on her hips, guiding her with rough strokes.
She never knew that she liked rough hands until she was with him.
She never knew she liked tattoos until she found the one that stretched lazily across his stomach. A Chinese Fireball sitting atop his navel with its tail wrapped around the indentation where the umbilical once was.
She traced the tattoo as she sucked him off, sitting between his knees and stroking the length of his erection with one hand while the other idly traced the dragon’s head, down its back and around its tail. When she reached the end of the tail, the miniature Fireball would breathe out a jet of fire and the scorching heat of it would cause him to throw his head back and jerk his hips up into her mouth, pouring his seed which she swallowed greedily.
She never knew that she liked tattoos until she was with him.
She never knew that she liked dirty talk until he fucked her for the first time, bent over his parent’s bed and taking her from behind while the party went on downstairs, everyone oblivious to what was happening upstairs.
“I can feel you, so fucking wet from knowing that someone could walk in, any time,” he had murmured into her ear as his cock slid in and out of her tight cunt. “Like me fucking so you so hard, want more, don’t you, little whore? Want me to fuck you till you can’t walk or move or even breathe you’ll be so exhausted.” It continued and they continued and they were not missed from the party.
She never knew that she liked dirty talk until she was with him.
She never knew that she liked piercings until she was lying on her back with her legs spread eagerly as he licked his way down her body and dragged the ball of his tongue-ring across her navel.
His head dipped between her legs and it was when the little metal ball touched her clit that she knew she was lost forever to whatever this man would want to do to her. Not only was he amazing at oral, but throw in that bit of metal and she was coming two or three times before he thrust into her and made her come again while shoving his tongue and the ball into her mouth and letting her suck her taste off of it.
She never knew that she liked piercings until she was with him.
She never knew that she liked a little pain with her pleasure until he brought her back a gift when he was away for two weeks on business only six months into their relationship.
He had practise with whips and when the soft, buttered leather fell across her back in sharp strokes she screamed out loud for more. He had used it on her back, her tits, her arse, her thighs, anywhere he could reach. She had been a willing participant and still he found the need to restrain her to the ceiling with magical bonds. When the whip finally hit the floor and her bonds came free, she was on the ground a scant millisecond before he was inside her, fucking her harder than he ever had before and she knew she wouldn’t be able to walk the next day, and it only turned her on more.
She never knew that she liked pain until she was with him.
She never knew that she liked red hair until she had to hold onto it for support while he was fucking her against a wall outside a dingy nightclub that she had been intent on visiting and he deeply disapproved of.
Her knees gave out when he snuck his hand under her skirt to find her knickerless, his short red hair the only thing keeping her up until he lifted her arse and slid her wet cunt over his rock-hard cock. She held onto that hair for dear life and he took her hard and rough against the brick wall and as she came she screamed into his neck and bit down where the short hairs were on the back of his neck.
She never knew that she liked red hair until she was with him.
She never knew that she liked freckles until he cried for the first time in her presence and she kissed and licked away his tears, noticing for the first time how his freckles were sprinkled across his nose like cinnamon.
She liked to count his freckles, though she knew that she would never be able to count them all. Her eyes would trace the ones on his chest as he fucked her up against walls or trees or any vertical surface. They would count the ones on his arms as he took her from behind. They would play dot-to-dot with the ones on his nose as he made love to her missionary.
Much like right now in fact. His rough hands were smoothing over her breasts and teasing her nipples to hardness before he suckled them into his mouth. The Fireball on his navel was breathing fire softly and she could feel it against her tummy. He wasn’t talking dirty; the first time since she had started shagging him. He was making love to her because it was a year after the first time they had shagged on his parent’s bed. His tongue was in her mouth now, the cold metal ball rolling across her tongue and he made love to her mouth at the same speed his cock was plunging in and out of her pussy. They had started the night with a bit of rough foreplay—his infamous whip coming into play—but that had soon turned into frenzied kissing and eventually lovemaking.
She looked into his deep brown eyes as his sweaty red hair fell into his eyes, then her eyes flitted across his face, counting the freckles that were splashed across the bridge of his nose.
“Would you give me a kiss for every one of my freckles?” he asked in a bit of a strained voice, near to climax.
She moaned and one of his rough fingers found her clit. “It would take a very long time,” she said, knowing by now that there were an uncountable number of freckles on his face, let alone the rest of his body.
“How about the rest of our lives?” he asked, stopping the movement of his hips for a moment as he tried to make the moment last.
“What?” she asked, throwing her head back as his finger touched her clit again.
“Marry me,” he demanded, wiping the hair back from his forehead and he started moving again, speeding up their lovemaking, increasing the pace to faster than what it was before.
“Marry—marry you?” she asked breathlessly.
“Yes,” he growled as he came, twisting her clit.
“Yes,” she moaned as she tumbled over the edge of oblivion, cradled in the arms of the man she loved. “Yes,” she said, “yes, I’ll marry you,” she sighed.
Hermione Granger never knew that she could love someone as much as she loved Charlie Weasley.
And they called her a know-it-all…
A/N: Please review, I really do live off of them and I need them to survive...