Valentine

“You know I hate doing this, Blaise.”

For a moment, Hermione wished there was stronger conviction in her words. It would support her statement much more if she actually sounded like she hated it. Blaise chuckled and she knew that he didn’t believe her. How could he when he knew that she’d always fought it the times they’d done it in the past and then be wet and begging before he was finished with her?

“Sure you do.” His words were agreeable but his tone was amused, rasped against her shoulder in that low voice that made her knickers wet regardless of what he was saying.

“It’s humiliating,” she said softly, these words true. He never made it about humiliation, of course, but there was a part of her, the strong take-no-prisoners bossy part that everyone else normally saw that rebelled at this sort of behavior. Women were not supposed to enjoy being treated like whores even if it was during play time with their spouses. She’d read enough books of psychology and behavior to know many did, certainly, but she couldn’t help feeling like she shouldn’t.

“If you’d rather, we can play a game of chess and drink a glass of wine,” he murmured as his arms went around her and he began to unbutton her shirt. He pressed against her, rubbed his erection firmly against her arse, and dragged his fingertips along her collarbone. “Of course, we both know that won’t you satisfy you, my beautiful whore. You want me to force you, to make you do it so you can use an excuse to conceal the truth, to cover up the fact that you love to be controlled by me and to give me that power over you. I will never force you, Hermione. You know that so why must you play this game every time?”

“I don’t,” she denied even as she knew the truth in his words. This was the one thing they‘d do, more than any other, that made her feel hesitant. During the years they’d been lovers and then husband and wife, Hermione had somewhat forgotten what inhibition even meant. Blaise allowed her the opportunity to do anything she wanted sexually, always right there with her experimenting, teaching, and even occasionally learning himself.

She had discovered things about herself that would have shocked her at one time. The idea that she would be aroused by having strangers watch her being fucked was one she’d have never considered possible. She hadn’t known she liked to watch, hadn’t thought she’d enjoy being controlled by someone she trusted, hadn’t believed she could ever embrace her sexuality in a way that usually made her feel confident and sexy despite the insecurities she still possessed. It was just when he spanked her that she had these moments where she needed him to nudge her into it, more than any other.

“You do,” Blaise purred against her throat. He slid his hand down her belly and tugged up her skirt so he could reach her knickers. His fingers pressed against the damp crotch of the cotton fabric and he pushed them up, rubbing the cotton against her. “You’re already so wet and we’ve not even started yet. Tell me you don’t love this, Hermione, and we’ll never do it again. Lie to me, though, and I’ll make you beg me for release.”

“There are times I hate you,” she muttered as she pushed down against his hand.

“I know,” he said with a smugness that made her shudder with arousal. After all these years, he knew her far too well, which was both infuriating and comforting. His fingers pushed her knickers to the side and he stroked her wet cunt. “Tell me what you want, Hermione. I won’t do anything until you tell me you’re ready to play.”

“Blaise,” she whined in a petulant tone that only he seemed to draw forth. A mischievous smile crossed her lips as she decided tonight was a night to be feisty. “Fine, don’t do anything. I don’t need you to make myself come.”

His arms tightened around her when she started to walk forward and she heard his low growl. “I won’t allow it,” he said as he roughly pushed his finger inside her. “I’m the only one that will ever touch you. Besides, whores don’t get to touch themselves. They have to beg to come and tonight you’re going to beg me, my sweet.”

She shivered at the tone in his voice, knowing him well enough to know what buttons to push to get a reaction. Of course, he was highly unpredictable when he got like this and taunting him with the knowledge she could either find another bloke, which she’d never do as he well knew, or just entertain herself, which she enjoyed and even more so when he was watching, was like casting an incendio. Hermione loved playing with fire, though, and knew from experience that Blaise would have her begging soon.

“Be careful,” she told him when he ripped her knickers off, feeling her skin sting from where the fabric pulled tight before tearing. “I happen to like those.”

“No,” he said stubbornly as his hands gripped either side of her shirt and pulled, sending buttons flying all over the room. “You’re mine, Hermione. I won’t lose you.”

His hands moved over her breasts and squeezed hard. She heard a faint tremor of insecurity in his voice that she’d not heard since he accused her of flirting with Charlie Weasley during a party over the holidays last year. She didn’t have to look at him to know that his eyes were a deep shade of ocher that always accompanied his jealousy and his most possessive behavior.

If she didn’t feel just as jealous and possessive whenever any woman flirted and showed off her cleavage to Blaise, she’d hate when he got like this. However, they’d always had a passionate and rather tumultuous relationship when it came to such things so she was accustomed to it now. Besides, there was a primal part of her that loved knowing she could make him lose his notorious control when no one else could.

She stopped playing their game for a moment and whispered, “You’ll never lose me, Blaise.”

His hands stilled and she heard him breathing hard behind her, his breath warm on her shoulder and neck. “I’m yours, too,” he murmured so quietly she barely heard it and she knew what those words took for him to say. It had taken him nearly two years before he’d finally been able to say he loved her, the emotion one he was completely unfamiliar with and scared him far more than any curse or hex. Even now, he rarely said the words nor did she because they weren’t necessary. Their feelings for each other were in every glance, word, and touch from the most casual to the most intimate.

“I shouldn’t have teased you,” she decided as she covered his hand with hers and squeezed lightly. She focused her attention on the bottle of champagne that was chilling beside the sofa and the candles that bathed the room in their soft glow. It was Valentine’s Day, their eighth one as a couple, and she knew he had something planned that would make her extremely happy. She licked her lips and smiled. “Perhaps I should be punished for being such a bad girl.”

“As if you consider this punishment.” He laughed huskily before he regained control of himself and the situation. “You’re right, my sweet. You need to be reminded not to tease me in that way.”

Hermione looked down and watched his hands as he unfastened the clasp at the front of her brassiere. She loved his hands. They were large, his palms smooth, his fingers graceful, and he was so very strong despite his slender appearance. His skin, the color of rich caramel, looked darker against her pale flesh and she loved the contrast they made when nude, the aesthetic side of her enjoying the beauty of their bodies wrapped together. He stepped back and pushed her shirt and bra off her body, leaving her in just her skirt.

They’d gone out to dinner for the holiday and had a very romantic ride around the park in an actual horse drawn carriage. She was still wet from when Blaise had fingered her beneath the blanket as they’d looked at the stars and she’d known he wanted to play this way when they got home because he’d not pulled her onto her lap and had her ride him right there in the carriage without caring who might see.

“Take your skirt off, my beautiful slut,” he commanded in a low voice that told her they were now playing again. She reached behind her and unzipped the skirt before she pushed it past her hips and let it fall to the floor. “Pick it up.”

Hermione moaned softly at the tone in his voice and obeyed, no longer listening to that annoying voice whisper that she shouldn’t enjoy this. When she was bent over, she felt him move behind her and run his fingertips over her bare arse. He unfastened her garter belt and removed it but left her stockings and heels on. She picked up her skirt and tossed it over a nearby chair, not caring that it barely hung off the arm as it was out of the way.

“What shall I do to you, Hermione?” he mused as he urged her to her desk. The top was organized with piles of work, research, owls to answer, and various other items she used daily when she worked from home. She was a bit surprised he’d not taken her down the hall to their room but there was something very exciting about being pushed against her own desk.

“Whatever you’d like,” she told him sincerely, giving him full control for the time being. He bent her over her desk and pulled her arms behind her in a way that wasn’t exactly uncomfortable but didn’t feel that great, either.

“Oh, I know that, my precious whore,” he said as wrapped something around her wrists. She tugged and realized it was a strip of velvet. He must have been carrying it around all evening, a thought that made her shift against the desk. “You look good like this: hands tied behind your back, arse bare, cunt wet with arousal, skin flushed with desire, eyes glazed with lust. I think you need a spanking for teasing me. Would you like a spanking, Hermione?”

“Yes,” she hissed as her fingers toyed with the strip of velvet and her breasts rubbed lightly against the paperwork beneath her. The parchment provided a surprising sensation against her nipples and she flushed as she realized just how depraved she could truly be at times even without his influence.

“Tell me,” he insisted as his hands caressed the curve of her arse cheeks, his fingers dipping lower to touch her wet cunt.

“I deserve a spanking,” she said finally and he knew that was as close as she’d get to actually asking. His palm slapped her arse cheek before she finished the -ing of her final word. She gasped in surprise at the suddenness of his action, not at all prepared for him to start that quickly. She felt her fingernails dig into her palms as the velvet rubbed sensually against her wrists.

“Yes, you do,” he murmured before his palm hit her again with a bit more force. “Such a little whore, aren’t you, my pretty pet? Even now, you’re moaning and so fucking wet that I could slide right inside you with ease. How many do you deserve, I wonder. We’ll start with twenty and see if you’ve earned my cock by then. Count them, Hermione. If you miss one, I’ll start over.”

“Five,” she moaned as he hit her arse again. He focused with the same intensity that he gave to everything he did, his palm slapping her skin with varying degrees of strength. She counted each one, the words becoming more ragged and breathless by the time he reached ten. His fingers pushed inside her in between spanks, teasing her cunt until she was writhing against her desk, not even caring when her elbow knocked her ink onto the floor.

“Making a mess, my sweet,” he scolded before he slapped her arse twice in a row with enough strength to make her cry out. “That will be five more, I think.”

“Please,” she whimpered before she realized she’d not called out a count. She hurriedly did so to avoid him starting over. “Thirteen and fourteen.”

“Good little whore,” he complimented as his wet fingers slid between her arsecheeks and he lightly pressed one against her arsehole. “Do you want me to fuck you there today, my sweet slut? Spread your cheeks and fuck your arse until you’re dripping with my come?”

Before she could answer, he was slapping her arse again, his breathing ragged as he rubbed against the back of her legs. She could feel his erection against the expensive material of his trousers and it made her even more aroused to know she was naked save for her stockings and he was still fully clothed. He kissed her shoulder and pressed her more firmly against the desk, her fingers tugging on the button of his shirt before he straightened back up.

“Where was I?” he teased as he kneaded the cheeks of her arse. They were warm from the spanking and she groaned when he squeezed the spots that were the most sore. “Was it ten? Perhaps twelve?”

“Seventeen,” she whimpered as he worked his fingers inside her cunt and nibbled at her shoulder. Eight left. She pulled at the velvet binding to no avail, her breasts rubbing against the parchment that was now wet from sweat, her belly pressed against the edge of the desk more with every slap of his palm.

“Eight more,” he promised as he withdrew his fingers and went back to spanking her. His slaps were harder, more urgent, and she could barely remember to stammer out the count as she stretched her fingers and pushed back for more.

By the time he reached the last one, she could barely whisper, “Twenty-five.”

He growled softly and she heard the sound of his zipper lowering, the rustle of his trousers and shorts as they were pushed down, and then he was pushing inside her. One deep thrust sent her forcefully against the desk. Her head raised and she cried out as he began to pound into her. Her arms were beginning to hurt from being tied behind her back and the velvet was rubbing against her wrists. None of that mattered when Blaise slid his cock into her tight cunt.

His hands gripped her breasts, squeezing them, pulling at her nipples as his belly slapped against her arse with every thrust forward. She whimpered as the desk slid forward and the piles of her paperwork scattered and fell as they fucked. “You have such a tight cunt,” he muttered against her ear as he reached down and held her hip tightly. It was all he said before he untied the velvet strap and then tangled his long fingers in her hair.

Blaise pulled her head back and kissed her as she pushed back to meet his thrusts. With her arms free, she reached down to brace herself against the top of the desk, shifting her body so that he entered her at a different angle. Her arsecheeks still stung from her spanking and rubbed against his belly as she rolled her hips. His hand left her hip and moved between her legs, his thumb pressed against her clit and rubbed hard.

Hermione felt the tension snap, clenching her muscles around his cock as she came with a soft whimper. He followed her soon after, spilling inside her as he grunted against her neck. When he was finally spent, he fell on top of her and panted against her shoulder. The strip of velvet was still hanging from one of her wrists and her desk was a complete mess, ink on the floor and papers scattered, but she didn‘t make a move to straighten anything. Instead, she sighed and reached behind her to lightly stroke the back of his neck.

“You okay?” he asked as he pulled out of her and brushed his fingers through her hair.

“I’m fine,“ she told him as she stood up and rubbed her sore belly, making a face at the desk that would have to be completely reorganized. A glance at Blaise saw that he was frowning at the mess. It wasn’t much of a surprise when he waved his wand and quickly cleaned up the mess. She was somewhat surprised he’d not stopped in the middle of spanking her to straighten the mess, far more anal about such things than even her.

He saw her looking and smiled almost sheepishly before he stepped closer to her. He leaned down and kissed her thoroughly before he fastened his trousers and then picked her up. She held on to his shoulders, her fingers gripping the material of his shirt, and she kissed his jaw before their gazes met.

He smiled mischievously as he reached down to pick up a bottle of lotion from the table, his hand lightly patting her sore arse as he indicated what the lotion was for, and then got the bottle of chilled champagne, which was cold as it brushed against her bare skin when he put it on her belly for easier carrying. She arched a brow, already thinking about lapping the champagne from his bare skin, and laughed when he groaned softly at the obvious look in her eyes. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Hermione,” he murmured before he kissed her once again and took her to their room to continue their celebration.

The End