Duel by grnshields

Rating: NC17
Genres: Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 27/01/2005
Last Updated: 27/01/2005
Status: Completed

It was only supposed to be a simple demonstration.




1. untitled
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**Disclaimer:** Second verse same as the first. Not mine

*devil on Rose's shoulder* We just wanted to say don't worry that we practically had to
open a vein to get this fic written-

*angel on Rose's other shoulder after having smacked devil with her halo* What we mean is
please be kind and leave a review...or a pint of blood.

**A/N:** I wanted to thank everyone for their kind reviews for Clarity. You can't imagine
how much they helped. Thanks to chaosblades for cleaning this up so I look like I know what I'm
doing. To the wonderful people on LJ who read this and told me to post here. And finally, to
Genevieve for her wonderful advice on writing NC-17 fiction. Go read her stories.

~~~

Harry barely heard the sound of the door closing to the Room of Requirement. The rapid pounding
of his heart combined with his harsh breathing were drowning out all other sounds. Likewise, his
vision had been reduced to the person standing across from him, her breathing just as ragged. Her
hair was going in every direction and she had a look on her face that was quickly heating his
blood.

He shook his head to try throwing off the hunger that was threatening to consume him. How had
they arrived at the point where he wanted to storm across the room and claim her like some kind of
caveman? This was supposed to have been a simple demonstration on casting and deflecting. How the
bloody hell had it evolved into a mating dance that left him hard and aching for her?

She had been magnificent, her body a thing of beauty and he suddenly realized that they had
never dueled before. Never noticed how evenly matched they were. He could still see them circling
each other, oblivious to the fact that they were surrounded by students who were becoming
uncomfortable in the growing tension that filled the room. He'd watched as she spun around,
hair flying wildly behind her, and successfully avoided yet another one of his hexes. She had shown
a grace and power that left him wanting to take her right there, damned the audience and he'd
finally roared “Enough.”

Silence was absolute as everyone looked from him to her until a slightly red-faced Ron broke it
by muttering, “Right, uh...I guess we'll finish the demonstration next week, er...then.” before
grabbing Luna's hand and practically dragging his girlfriend from the room. The door opening
seemed to release a collective breath and everyone eagerly following Ron's lead, glad to be out
the rising...something. They weren't quite sure what had happened, but it left them all feeling
vaguely stimulated.

She tossed her hair behind her, bringing his focus sharply back upon her. Her eyes had darkened
and she raked him with a look that taunted him, daring him to do something about this heat between
them. He watched her tongue dart out and sweep across her lips and he took up her challenge. Before
he knew what he was doing, he was across the room, his fingers plunging into her hair and his mouth
sliding across hers. Her taste only made him crave more and her heated gasp allowed his tongue to
slide in and caress hers. His senses exploded. He cupped the back of her head, holding her firmly,
and sank further into the kiss.

Her hands had somehow found their way under his shirt, making him growl at the trail of fire
left in the wake of her fingers as they glided across his skin. He tore his lips away from hers,
breathing harshly, his hands traveling down her body as his lips moved along her jaw, nibbling the
sensitive skin beneath her ear. He cupped her breasts through her shirt and she arched into him,
throwing her head back and exposing the slim column of her throat. His lips descended to the creamy
expanse of skin, tongue darting out and licking the pulse at the base of her throat, while she
franticly tore at the buttons of his shirt.

He shuddered at the feel of her hands caressing his body, moving down his chest, past his
stomach, to his waist skimming along the inside of his pants.

Her scent washed over him and the delicious sounds she was making, as his mouth moved up her
neck, stopping to taste and nibble, had him deciding that they weren't nearly close enough. His
hands left her breast to move down her side to her waist before going around to the small of her
back and down to cup her bottom. He picked her up and she immediately wrapped her legs around
him.

“Hermione,” he hissed at the feel of being surrounded by her. He turned around, stumbling a few
steps in his haste, before kneeling down on one of the practice cushions, leaving her straddling
his lap.

Shit, she was trying to kill him. He could feel her heat pressing against his hard length even
through layers of clothing.

“Harry, lock the bloody door.” her low husky voice was sending shivers down his spine and he had
to concentrate in order to work the charm.

He looked at her, took a deep breath, and told himself to slow down. This was Hermione. He
wanted to show her how much she meant to him. She didn't deserve this frenzied coupling. He
would control himself. He reached up, flicked the top button open on her shirt, and gently brushed
his lips across hers.

However, Hermione had other ideas.

Gripping his shoulders tightly, she rolled her hips against his, breaking him completely. Her
shirt came apart in his clenched fists and he plunged his tongue back into her mouth. One hand
palmed a lace-covered breast, while the other firmly gripped her hip as he began thrusting up
against her. They stayed that way, moving against each other, hot desperate moans and harsh
breathing the only sounds to fill the room.

Finally, he couldn't take anymore. He pushed her off his lap so she lay among the cushions
and followed her down to settle between her legs before whispering hotly in her ear, “Touch
me.”

She wasted no time. In a matter of seconds, she had his pants undone and was firmly grasping his
length in one hand while roughly pushing his pants past his hips with the other. Her stroking had
him thrusting in her hand as his fingers skimmed along her thigh, underneath her skirt, toward the
place he needed to be. He bent his head and mouthed her through her bra and she impatiently moved
his head aside and undid the front closure. His lips teased a swollen dusky pink nipple before
pulling it into his mouth, rolling his tongue around the pebble hard peak. Her fingers threaded
through his hair, holding him to her as he lavished equal attention on her other breast. His
fingers stroked the lacy edge of her knickers, before moving inside and finding her already wet for
him. Because of him.

Her knickers met the same fate as her shirt.

Resisting the urge to plunge his fingers into her heat, he caressed the delicate folds, entering
her tentatively, his thumb pushing against the small hidden bundle of nerves. Her reaction was
immediate. Her hips arched up, her walls tightening around him, crying out his name. He bent down
and captured her lips in another drugging kiss, swallowing her heated cries, his fingers pushing
into her as she bucked against his hand.

His need was consuming him. He wanted more. Dragging his mouth away from hers, he raised his
head to look at her. The expression in her eyes was scorching him. His thumb circled her clit
faster.

“Is this what you want?” he asked, his voice low and harsh with desire as his fingers stroked
deeper.

She was barely coherent, “Yes. No. I want... I need... oh, Harry,”

“What,” he said fiercely, “what do you need?”

Her hands, which had been threaded through his hair, cupped his face, pulling him down until
bare inches separated them, “You,” her voice hot and trembling, “I need you inside me.”

The desire he saw in her eyes was mingled with love and trust. It humbled him. He wanted to tell
her how much he loved her, but the words wouldn't come. She gave a little nod telling him she
understood and, yes, she felt the same, and there might have been a little 'hurry up,
Harry' but he wasn't sure. He positioned himself at her entrance, the urge to thrust almost
overwhelming the moment he pushed into her wet heat. He would not screw this up. This was their
first time and the last thing in the world he wanted to do was cause her pain. He eased into her,
going slow until he was buried inside her.

“Fuck,” he rasped out, dropping his forehead down to meet hers and trembling from the effort to
hold himself still. She was so tight; he knew this would be over too soon. He didn't move,
wanting to savor this feeling as long as possible and give her time to adjust to him. His senses
were bombarded. The feel of her surrounding him, the scent of them mingled together. The sight of
her beneath him was something he wanted to see for the rest of his life.

He rested his weight on his elbows and looked into her eyes. He could see the pain, but it was
quickly being overshadowed by desire. He leaned down to plant tiny kisses along her jaw. He could
feel her hands on his back, kneading the muscles there, before moving down past his waist finally
gripping his arse. She rolled her hips experimentally causing a groan to erupt from him.

“Harry, if you don't move, I'll be forced to hex you.”

He would have smile at her impatience, but his body was agreeing with her. He pulled out and
thrust eliciting a gasp from both of them. He pushed himself up, wanting to watch her move beneath
him, move with him. Her face was flushed from passion, her hair spread out around her, and her head
was thrown back. She had never looked more beautiful to him. He hooked one of her legs around his
hip and began moving in long smooth strokes, determined to give her as much pleasure as could
because he knew he was close.

She was alternating between chanting his name and telling him to hurry. Then she let go of his
hips, reached down between them, and touched herself where they were joined. He had been trying to
go slowly, wanting this to last, but the sight of her pleasuring herself was too much to take. He
completely lost it. Breathing harshly, his movements becoming erratic as he began moving
faster.

She arched against him, crying out his name and he could feel her clench around him. He gladly
let go and followed over the edge, his face buried in her hair, her name on his lips.

Sometime later, after he would regain the ability to breathe normally, he rolled off her and
looked around them. The tattered remains of their clothing were hanging off them and he was not
sure where his glasses were but hoped they were not too battered when he finally dredged up the
energy to look for them.

He hadn't meant for things to spiral wildly out of control like that. He looked at her with
a sheepish grin and found her staring at him with a wicked satisfied smile on her face only to be
replaced by a look of horror.

“Oh no,” she said, burying her face in her hands, “what are Ron and the others going to say.

“I don't think we should partner each other again,” he said firmly, wondering too what kind
of ribbing they was going to get when they went back to the common room. Their display was not
going to be ignored. However, he simply couldn't work up enough concern. He gathered her in his
arms, removed her hands, and pressed a kiss to her lips. “I suppose from now on you can partner
with Neville.”

That smile was back, “What if the same thing happens?” she asked innocently.

He rolled them over so that he was back on top of her. “It won't,” he said with a growl,
“because I think Neville would like to keep all of his limbs attached to his body.” He gave her a
long slow kiss that left them both slightly breathless. “Besides, I don't think Ginny would
appreciate that.”

“How about we just duel in private, then,” she said in a low husky whisper, wrapping her legs
around him and he felt himself stirring again.

“Private lessons?” He asked, a grin spreading across his face, “I like the sound of that.”

End

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