Author's Note: Hello and the HUMBLEST of THANK YOUS TO EVERYONE who offered their thoughts for this story, Undeniable. I am so happy - I cannot tell you!
VERY SPECIAL Thank Yous must be given to Kim, Penelope, Kasmira and Greeneyedsparkle - I curtsey before you all!
Again - because I have yet to seek help for my addiction - PLEASE < PLEASE > PLEASE offer me your thoughts - the approval junkie in me is rattling every piece of furniture in my mind!
Undeniable
Chapter 4
It was his turn and he wasn't sure if he was going to relinquish his advantage any time soon. In fact - if he had his way - he could practically guarantee that it would be a while before Hermione would have her wicked way with him.
Her skin was more rain slicked than his, which aided him in sliding his calloused fingers and palms over he collarbones. He was so close to her that he could tell when the goose bumps his touch raised receded. She was also much stronger than he would have guessed. He could feel the muscles in her shoulders flex under his ministrations. Gliding down the outside of her arm, he turned his attention to the inside of her elbow in hope of discovering if she were as sensitive as he proved to be. His hands came to rest where her upper arm joined the rest of her portioned body.
Looking back at her face, he saw a new expression come over her. Which caused another tidal wash of that feeling to rise again - this time it seemed to be part of his very blood. Her focus danced between his eyes, hands and lips. For Harry, it was her eyes, full pink lips and the hollow at the base of her throat that commandeered his immediate attention. They stepped together to the time that the thunder kept. Lightening kept their sanctuary illuminated. The rain kept their skins slick and lips smooth.
For the first time since going to bed hours ago, Harry spoke, "Hermione?" He said her name as a question as well as a command; enticingly and yet full of reassurance.
Hermione's voice was so sensual that her transformation from best friend to lover was complete. It was laden with as much emotion as one word could carry, "Harry."
Two pulses of lightening and a crack of thunder broke her concentration and she lifted her arms exuberantly to the sky. Excitement flooded her veins and shook her body. Her full lips spread wide and her eyes became triangles as the next storm broke around them and encompassed her refuge.
Harry found himself looking at the sky as well. Not feeling the same sensation of freedom that Hermione was demonstrating, he found her enthusiasm infectious none the less. He found himself responding in a way that compelled him want to share in her exuberance. He reached down, bent his knees, grasped her hips and lifted her as high as he could into the heavens.
The squeak, squeal and subsequent bubbling laughter told Harry that she approved. After her riotously, slightly panicked bewilderment was replaced with joyful abandon, that is.
Hermione is so light! Nor did he mind being up close and personal with the concave of her abdomen. Especially as he saw her skin twitch when his warm breathe dried the drops of water that clung to the very fine hairs that preceded their southern cousins. Her toes were brushing against the fine down that covered his legs and… She was slipping! And she knew it! How could she not? She was wet and slippery and it would be impossible for Harry to keep any kind of firm grip on her for any length of time. As her body began to slide downward, she instinctively dug her fingertips into his shoulders as a last ditch effort to support herself and maintain Harry's embrace. Acting on impulse, she opened her knees and hooked both her legs around the raven haired boy's waist as her palms latched onto his upper arms. If she went down - so would he.
Deciding that he liked Hermione right where she was, Harry promised himself that she wouldn't be going anywhere any time soon.
For Hermione, initial shock of being so intimately splayed led to a sexually induced haze as Harry stabilized her by cupping her two bottom cheeks in each of his large hands. Harry could barely accept the fact that the most beautiful, sensual, NAKED creatures to have ever walked the Earth was right now warm, pliable and pulled intimately against his unclothed body.
Laughter became swallowed chuckles as meaningful expressions were exchanged. Only to be renew by a mutual fit of giggles. It was during this second set of giggles that Harry James Potter deliberately and purposely kissed Hermione Jane Granger for the very first time. NOT as one friend would kiss another friend. And NOT because he was afraid that pressing his lips to hers what he was supposed to do. His physical response was definitely NOT as a means of distraction as to avoid something disastrous. He kissed her because he was happy she was in his arms. He felt her kiss him back because that was the best way she knew how to tell him just how happy she was at that moment in time.
Somewhere Hermione had tapped that enchanted brick that revealed all that was Harry to her. Somehow the barricade of self protection Hermione had erected around herself had been breeched by Harry. Not because he had laid siege to her psyche or used subversive tactics. It was more the fact that it was now a matter of NO unpleasantness, projected false expectations or empty promises lying between them. In Hermione's world, kissing Harry Potter was just the most natural thing to do. He was as sure of that as he knew that the sky was blue and that his hair was black.
The kiss was so chaste! Two sets of lips merged only to pull away as quickly as they came together. Harry opened eyes he didn't remember closing to see Hermione's eyes wide open and looking intensely into his face. They kissed again. They kissed because it was their moment.
The staccato of raindrops on flora increased in tempo. Peels of thunder were audibly catching up with the lightening. Harry had Hermione in an embrace that knew no rival. Again and again they brought their lips together in rapid succession. Laughter tickled the back of his throat as the snapping noise of their lips pulling a part reached his ears. Her response only fuelled and fanned Harry's confidence. His kisses grew longer. His tongue strove for the treasures that lurked in the back of her mouth. He felt Hermione became more ardent in pressing every soft contour she possessed against his body and his mouth. Very quickly, neither on of them had the breath for laughter.
Her thighs were spread wide to maintain her grip around his waist. His hands were interlocked underneath her bottom to shore her up. Her hands were roaming everywhere she could reach - tangling his hair, teasing the nape of his neck, stroking the base of his throat, massaging his shoulders and lightly raking his back with her fingernails. Her touch was setting off acres of goose bumps in the warm rain that fell around them.
Clever girl - she wrested my advantage without me even realizing that she had done so in the first place.
Pulling back from a particularly deep kiss, Harry looked up at a face he had seen for years and revelled in what he saw. Her damp hair hung in waves around her face, shoulders and back. Gone was the slightly knit look that haunted her brow ever since the first trial of the quest for the Philosopher's Stone - an adventure took place in their first year at Hogwarts. Her eyes did not have that all but veiled look of concern that was always there in varying degrees every time she looked at him. Her mouth did not have a quill pressed against it nor was the inside of her lip being chewed upon while trying to figure something out. Her back was not bowed with the extra twenty pounds of tomes she carried in addition to her schoolbooks.
She wasn't worrying about him. She wasn't focused on her grades. She wasn't feeling the weight of other students' glares because she was the most prepared student in any of her classes. There was no dilemma or nefarious plot threatening anyone she cared about. He was witnessing a Hermione - unbound. And it was good. It is better than good. That unnamed feeling SOARED. It was now reaching the backs of his eyes. Amazement was the best description to come to Harry as he witnessed Hermione in all her sensual splendour. He was a Seeker and she was his Snitch - which he now held triumphantly in his arms. The loudest roaring crowd cheering as the House Cup was being awarded after a hard fought competition was nothing compared to the rain, thunder, lightening and the life giving breath they each strove for every time his lips met her descending mouth.
Harry's chest was heaving with exertion but it did not stop him from reaching for breasts that bobbed so enticingly below her chin. Hermione's nipples reminded Harry of the raspberries - still warm from the sun - that he had picked in the backyard of the Burrow a couple of summers back. He remembered how he had placed a berry on each of his fingers and proceeded to eat each succulent fruit by its individual seed. Hermione's areolas were dusty pink and wonderfully crinkly - they were perched so high on her upturned breasts that occasionally their hardened points would graze his chest has the beautiful girl in his arms tried to press as much of herself against him as possible. He had to find out what she tasted like.
Deliberately alternating between sucking on her lower lip and stroking the backs of her teeth with his tongue - Harry drew Hermione into the most prolonged and fervent kiss yet. Unlocking his hands, he let his fingers slide to her outer thighs and ever so slightly opened her up some more. He wasn't sure when she realized he had released her, but the feline-esque purr that vibrated in his mouth echoed his own when his erection slid along the rain and arousal slicked path between the base of her bottom and through the plump folds of her kittie. He smiled and rested his fore head against hers as his cock brushed against the bundle of nerves tucked inside their resting place her as her toes slowly touched the ground.
A low growl of approval and an arched back told Harry that lightly stroking her sides on the way to her firm breasts was definitely a good thing to do. So he did it again - and again. He stopped her from moving in and prevented her obtaining any more contact with his person. It was only fair! She had more time to explore him than he had of learning her body. Now was the time to make up for his learning curve. Or, better yet - learning Hermione's curves.
He used the moisture that coated her body to travel up and over the indentation of her waist. Fanning his fingers over her rib cage he angled his wrists so that his calloused palm caressed the outside of her breasts. He was surprised and yet pleased to see the contrast between his sun-tanned hands and the creamy expanse of skin he was now touching that almost never had been kissed by the sun.
Hermione may have made the first move. She might have kissed him first - back in Fourth Year - at Platform 9 ¾. She was definitely the only one he wanted to be pressed against him and exploring his body - but that was all going to change. Immanently. After all - it was still his turn.