Dreaming of you

Deep brown eyes that felt like they could pierce down to your soul were staring into hers with a fire slowly burning behind them. She blinked a few times, wondering if she was having a vivid dream. She couldn’t look away, every time she opened her eyes again she was captured by his. She sat up on her hands and did the only thing she could think of, stared right back.

When he spoke, his voice was soft and silky, “In the dead of night your secrets are laid bare Miss Granger.”

She couldn’t form the words to ask what he meant. She just stared back at him, certain now that she was dreaming. He was dead or as good as and there was no way he was sitting by her bed watching her.

After a few ragged breaths she managed to speak, albeit quietly, “What are you doing here?”

His lips twitched into a slight smile before he replied, “I’d be asking myself that question if I were you. You’re the one who called on me, not the other way around.”

“Why…” She gasped as she felt his warm hand brushing along her calf which lay over the covers, slowly moving up her knee and to her thigh. “Why,” she managed, “Would I call on you?”

“Again Miss Granger, you need to be asking yourself these questions. I am merely here because you wanted me here.” His hand was causing ripples of intense pleasure simply by brushing circles along her thigh. She wasn’t sure whether she wanted to tell him to stop or beg him to carry on.

“If you would like, I could offer my own conjecture on the matter.” He said, without pausing to see if she would like hear his musings, “Since you no longer live a dangerous life, no war, no life or death. You’ve begun to crave something with darkness. Something to give you that fix of adrenaline that you’ve been missing.”

He was moving off the chair as he spoke, his hand brushing up the cotton sheet draped over her stomach. He reached her collar bone and traced it softly, intensifying her desire while never ceasing in his explanation of his insight, “You wanted darkness, you wanted danger, something unpredictable and you called upon me. Why? Because I believe we have an understanding Miss Granger. I may be your polar opposite but I am intelligent, I’m patient and I think more logically than most. I am you if you were on the opposite side.”

“That’s…” She trailed off as he moved to side beside her, leaning over, his lips so close to hers that she could feel his breath and he spoke in a whisper.

“What are you afraid of here, in this place?”

She didn’t know.

Did she care who he was? This was in her mind after all.

She was more aware of the sensations his hand caused as it travelled slowly down to brush the silk of her nightgown over her breast, causing the nipple to harden and pucker instantly. She wasn’t certain who closed the distance between them but their lips met, biting and sucking, his mouth taking control of hers and his hand massaging her breast.

She gasped as he pressed her back, pushing the light cotton sheet from her body and sliding the thin strap of her nightdress down to expose her bare breast to his palm. Electrical shocks shot through her body as his rough hand manipulated her breast in a way that made her head press back into the pillow and a low moan escape her lips.

How or when they lost all barriers between them Hermione couldn’t remember but the press of his naked flesh against hers was intoxicating. His lips and teeth moved down her neck, nipping along her collar bone before she felt ghosting across her nipple. She tried to open her eyes to see what he was doing but before she could her head went back again as his warm mouth enclosed the erect nub and pulled gently on it with his teeth.

She gasped his name, a name she never thought she’d hear herself say, “Barty…”

She felt his lips curve into a smile against her skin before he switched his attention to her other nipple and dragged more half uttered words of pleasure from her lips. She felt pleasure, verging on pure ecstasy as his mouth and tongue manipulated her coursing through her veins.

She cried out when his mouth left her breasts and he placed kisses down the flesh of her stomach. His fingers crept up her thigh, heading somewhere she was desperate for them to go. They brushed her intimately briefly before pulling away. She moaned her disapproval at that and they returned with more purpose. Opening her and exploring her folds, his fingers located the bud of nerves and experimentally pressed it, finding which technique caused her hips to arch to him.

Slowly his fingers, slick with her own desire, moved to her entrance and slipped just inside her. She cried out with need, begging him to enter her. She could feel every nerve in her body crying for him to take her. He didn’t enter her any further with his finger but his mouth descended on her clitoris, sucking it into his mouth and teasing it with his teeth.

She arched and felt a spring inside her tighten them uncoil at such speed she felt like she would break apart. The mouth and hands withdrew and she whipered. Her orgasm had sated some of her need but she still felt something carnal inside her that begged for something.

Something she did understand yet but knew exactly what it was. She wanted him above her, driving into her body hard and fast. Something predatory, something the intelligent side of her brain could never understand. She wanted to be claimed.

She was not disappointed.

He moved up her body supporting himself above her on his hands. He waited until she opened her eyes before pressing himself against her open legs. He waited for her response. Slowly she pulled her still trembling legs up and around his hips, holding the heated head of his erection against her own hotness.

His lips quirked into a smile before he leant down and began to nip along her neck, she tilted her head to allow him better access. He began motioning his hips, covering his engorged member with her slick heat before sliding to her opening.

He paused for only a few seconds before he pressed forward, filling her completely and causing her to cry his name again. His behaviour changed as he began to pull back and thrust back. He was following a rhythm set at the beginning of time. The carnal rhythm of hard, fulfilling sex. There was no love making here, it was a prehistoric need to give and gain a pleasure so intoxicating no drug or potion can mimic it.

He pulled himself back up onto his hands as he continued to force himself into her body in a way that made her see stars and cry out to a nameless God. The rhythm was slowly reaching a climax, harder and faster thrusts, sweat clinging to bodies and muscles beginning to tremble with the effort to reach that unbelievable high.

Hermione came apart under him, gripping his erection inside her like a vice as her face flushed deeper and stars exploded before her eyes. She felt him follow after a few deep thrusts, spilling inside her before collapsing atop her, breathing raggedly.

Her mind drifted away. The feeling of her slick body pressing her down. The last sensation she felt before loosing herself to sleep was his lips pressing a kiss to her headed forehead and his weight lifting off of her.