Wicked

Amethyst and Goldy

Rating: NC17
Genres: Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 30/06/2005
Last Updated: 30/06/2005
Status: completed

Hermione decides to show Harry just how wicked she can be.

Chapters

1. Wicked

2. Rising to the Challenge

1. Wicked

A/N: This is just a little smutlet that I (Amethyst) wrote on a whim one day, which Goldy decided to write a sequel to. She’ll be posting that on our account…er, eventually. As soon as she sees that I’ve posted, I’m sure. But anyway. Smut! Enjoy. ^^

Oh, and we absolutely do not have any rights to any of this and we don’t want to be sued, because we’re broke and can’t afford lawyers. Do please don’t.

Wicked

“Wicked? You?” Harry said, chuckling.

“What? You think I can’t be?” Hermione said, walking steadily toward him. She walked him right into a corner. He looked nervous now, as she pressed the entire length of her body against his. “Just because it’s a side of me I’ve never showed you doesn’t mean that it doesn’t exist,” she whispered, running a hand down his chest and down to the crotch of his jeans, where she could feel the hardening bulge of his erection. A strangled sound came from deep within his throat as her hand grazed over it. She smirked.

Feeling indeed very wicked, she ran her hand back up to his chest, beneath his shirt this time. She felt his abdominal muscles flutter beneath her fingers as she pressed her hips into his. He had his eyes closed and his head had fallen back to rest against the wall. Hermione licked her lips and then, lightly, brought them to his exposed neck. Harry let out a guttural sound of pleasure; it sent a thrill of power through her. She wanted to drive him completely mad.

Sinking to her knees, she planted a trail of wet kisses down his stomach before dropping his shirt and reaching for the button of his jeans. She unclasped and unzipped them and tugged them off his hips. She was now face-to-face with his dick, straining against the fabric of his boxers. Those, too, she pulled down, more carefully this time, and she let them fall to the puddle at his feet with him jeans.

Hermione looked up at his face. His eyes were still tightly shut and he was breathing heavily. “Watch me,” she commanded, her voice surprisingly husky. His eyes flew open wide and he seemed almost nervous as she smirked up at him.

“Hermione…”

“Shhh,” she hissed, and he didn’t say another word as she took him into her mouth, swirling her tongue around the head before taking as much of him in as she could. She looked up at him and sucked hard before letting him slide out of her mouth and taking him again. She was vaguely aware of him moaning loudly, but the only thing she was paying attention to was the look on his face as she drove him to the edge.

She had wanted to do this to Harry for so long, had so many fantasies about doing just precisely this, on her knees with his cock in her mouth. And what a lovely cock it was – long and slender. Hermione couldn’t suppress a moan at the thought of how it would feel inside her, and she felt Harry shudder as it vibrated around him.

Another lick, another suck. She wrapped a hand around the base of his shaft and stroked with the rhythm of her mouth, cupping his balls with the other. He groaned and fisted his hands in her hair.

“Oh, God.”

Two sucks. Three licks.

“Oh – oh, ‘Mione, I’m – I’m –“

Hermione felt more powerful than she ever had casting a spell as his hot fluid spurted into her mouth. When he was finished, she pulled off him, and, making sure he was watching closely, very slowly and deliberately swallowed.

Harry gaped at her. With her usual businesslike manner, Hermione tidied him up and wiped her mouth. Smiling a self-satisfied smile, she turned to look at him before she left the room.

“See? I can be wicked.”

2. Rising to the Challenge

Title: Rising to the Challenge

Summary: Harry couldn’t let Hermione’s little “favour” go unpaid now, could he? PWP.

A/N: When writing smut for Amethyst’s birthday, I went and hijacked the plot of Wicked to come up with this. She’s been nice enough since then to let my unofficial sequel become an actual sequel. *hugs her*

Rating: NC17

Harry had no bloody idea what he was doing.

He tended to act on instinct, following his gut, often leading him recklessly into dangerous situations.

Just do what your body is telling you to do, he told himself, huddling under his invisibility cloak and waiting for Hermione to finish the last of her rounds. He was willing to bet a hundred galleons that Hermione had researched that… that… thing she did to him earlier. That, or… well, he didn’t really want to think about the “or” part of it.

Without realizing it, she had issued him a challenge. And Harry Potter had never let a challenge go unchallenged.

She came into his line of vision, her Head Girl badge attached importantly to the front of her blouse. Bet she wouldn’t be able to keep that if McGonagall knew what she’d been up to today…

Her lips were curled up in a small smile, and Harry leaned forward, certain she was smirking.

Hermione had always been rather dominant.

Harry took off the invisibility cloak, pleased when she gave a small jump of surprise.

“Hey,” he said casually, folding the cloak over his arm. “Want to come to the Room of Requirement with me?”

It should not have been that easy to ask that question, Harry thought, without a trace of a blush. There should have been awkwardness. After all, the… the… stuff… they’d done, it wasn’t normal behaviour, not between still-platonic-best-friends.

Hermione licked her lips, an unconscious gesture that had Harry wanting to loosen his trousers.

“Okay.”

***

“Yes… YES… HARRY! Sweet, Merlin… where did you… yes, there!”

Harry flicked his tongue against a particularly sensitive part of Hermione, and her hands fisted painfully in his hair. Oh, fuck, is that her clit? I have no idea. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck…

“Yes…”

Whatever it was he was doing, she seemed to be enjoying it. Her hips bucked against his face and her thighs were shaking with the strain of keeping them parted.

I can’t believe I’m doing this. Ican’tbelieveI’mdoingthis. I can’t believe I’m doing this to Hermione.

He could still remember her confidence as she went down on him, swallowing him until he could feel the muscles straining in the back of her throat. And that look she gave him, when she swallowed his seed. That glint in her eyes…

He delved his tongue into her folds, bits and pieces of whispered boys dormitory talk floating through his mind. Dean’s exploits weren’t much to go on, but they were all he had. He didn’t know what he was doing, but he did it anyway, trying to gauge her movements, the way her hands tugged in his hair.

He could taste her and his face was smeared with her juice… and, oh, Merlin, he didn’t think he’d ever been this turned on in his entire life…

His erection was reaching painful levels and he slowed down his exploration of Hermione to undo the fly on his trousers, aching to be free of restraint. Think of Ron in his undergarments… think of Snape in his undergarments…

Hermione let out a low moan. “Harry… yes…”

Oh. Fuck.

He pressed his tongue harder against her, scraping his teeth over her clit—oh, god, he hoped that’s what it was—and she bucked harder, her entire body shuddering. She shouted his name again, a deep throaty sound that nearly had him moaning in return.

She came to a rest, panting and sweating; her knickers still tangled over one ankle where they’d left them in their haste to get them off. Her chest heaved with her breaths and he could see her nipples pressing against her bra.

“Oh my,” she whispered, still trembling. “Oh… my…”

She reached out one hand to grab his tie and she yanked him to her (she was always so bloody dominant). She kissed him, her tongue furiously pushing past his lips to enter his mouth, and he wondered if she was tasting herself. Then he wondered what he’d taste like on her lips.

He slid one hand down her stomach, moving his palm over her skin and he couldn’t help but wonder what they were doing. She was Hermione—best friend, dependable Hermione.

And though this was nice—very, very nice—he couldn’t bear the idea of losing her for this. It wasn’t worth tossing seven years of friendship down the drain because of some insatiable hormones.

Their hips locked together, and she arched against him, her heat pressing against the erection in his boxers and Harry grit his teeth, wondering how she managed to strip him of all control…

“Hermione… wait…” he said, his breath coming out in short gasps. He didn’t know how she did this to him.

“Yes?” she whispered.

“What… does… this… mean…?” Harry swallowed and tried to start again. “For us?” He hesitated. “Is it… is it just a… a shagging thing?”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, Harry, you really are rather naïve sometimes, you know.” She touched his face with her fingertips, smiling brightly. “Of course it’s not just a shagging thing. You’re the only one I’d ever consider doing—any of the things we’ve done—with.” She sucked in a breath, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment. “That’s… that’s how much I trust you.”

Harry felt himself brighten. This time, when she ground against him, he made no attempt to hold himself back.

“Between us?” she said, her voice a soft whisper in his ear. Her lips skimmed down his cheekbone. “It could never be ‘just’ for anything.”