Distraction

Hermione strode into the room like a whirlwind, slamming the door behind her, and Remus looked up from his desk in mild surprise.

"Isn't it a little early for you to be home?"

"Early!"  She tossed her bag onto the floor with enough backspin that her books and papers went flying.  "Oh, damn.  Just one thing after another," she spat out as she kneeled to gather up her things.

Remus stood and came over next to her, placing a hand on her shoulder, gently rubbing, trying to sooth out the frustration and the anger he could feel seeping from her.  "What's wrong, love?"

"Wrong!"  She didn't look at him but angrily stuffed one book after another back into her bag.  "What do you think?  Don't you read the Prophet? Don't you care what they're doing to you?"

He sighed.  He'd been a werewolf for forty years, and become inured to it, but Hermione had only been a werewolf's wife for two; the little insults he took as a matter of course were all fresh to her.  "I've had to be registered with the Ministry ever since I was bitten.  It's not like this is any --"

"It is different," she interrupted, her eyes flashing.  "You're no less a person than anybody else.  You're my partner, not my property."

"I know, love, I know."  He lowered himself to the floor next to her, stroking her shoulders, willing her to calm down.  "But it doesn't matter what they think, what it says on the Ministry scrolls.  You know the truth and I know the truth, and that," he said, kissing her gently on the neck, "is all that matters."

She relaxed back into his arms.  "I know.  It just gets me so angry, though."

He kissed her again, pulled her back against him.  "Then let's see if we can channel that anger into something more appropriate, hmm?  Maybe you can think of something to do with your new possession."

"Remus, you are not --"

"Or perhaps," he continued, "since out there I am officially your property, in our house you should be mine."  He nipped at her neck and she stretched up to allow him to nestle more firmly onto her shoulder.  "Just to balance things out, you know.  I know how much you value equality."

She giggled.  "You're a goose."

"A wolf," he corrected, sliding his hands down her body to unfasten her robes.  She wriggled against him, allowing him to slide them off, and he knew she'd accepted his offer of distraction. 

"Mmm, feels good," she murmured as he slipped his hands into the cups of her brassiere. 

"I'll say."  He loved the heavy weight of her breasts in his hands, the softness of her body that contrasted with her sharp, intense personality.  She might be a firebrand to the rest of the world, but in here she was all soft skin and gentle curves, and her inner fire was for him alone to enjoy.

Hermione brought her arms up around behind her, reaching toward his neck, urging his head down, and he nuzzled along her collarbone obediently as he slid the straps from her shoulders.  "I'm almost naked and you're still dressed.  'S not fair."

"Easy enough to remedy," he said, and moved away just long enough to shrug his own robes off.  They were soft, brown house-robes, of a velvety material that Hermione loved to run her hand across, and he laid them down as a rug and pulled her back to him.  "Now get those knickers down, love, and we'll both be equal."

She shot him a look, then, and for a moment he regretted his choice of words; the last thing he wanted was to remind her of her initial fury.  But with a smile she hooked her fingers through the waistband and slowly slid off her pants, giving her hips a provocative wiggle, and he leaned back and enjoyed the view.  He'd never tire of watching her, never, and although sometimes he wondered why an attractive young woman like her would want someone like himself, he was absurdly grateful for the privilege.

She struck a pose, kneeling next to him with her hands clasped in front of her breasts.  "Would my lord and master care to instruct his property in his wishes?"

"Come here, woman," he growled, and pulled her toward him, and she dissolved in giggles as she peppered his face with kisses.  Her body rolled on top of his, warm soft skin pressing against his erection; he groaned in pleasure as she ground her hips down.

"I love you I love you I love you," she whispered as she licked at his ear, nipping at the lobe, sliding her tongue gently in and then out.  Her teeth grazed against the stubbled skin of his jaw as she traced a path down his face with her lips; he ducked his head so that he could capture her mouth with his own, savoured the moan she made as he kissed her.  

The skin of her back felt cool against Remus's fingertips as he stroked flower-petal shapes down her spine.  He curved one hand around her bottom and slid it between her legs, feeling for her secret heat.  Hermione wriggled wet against his fingers, making small noises that he wanted to devour, and he nuzzled up against her neck when she arched her back and shivered. 

"I want to be in you, love."

"A brilliant idea," she said, levering herself upright so she was kneeling, straddling his hips.  She reached down to take his cock in her hands and rub it against the edge of her cleft, and he watched avidly; there was nothing like the sight of his wife, his lover, his Hermione, naked and wanting him and rubbing against his erection, and it made him want her even more. 

She rose up high on her knees, still sliding the head of his cock back and forth,  and as he watched it disappear between her legs he wanted nothing more than to grab her hips and pull her down onto him, force himself into the soft folds that so teasingly brushed at him, but he let her take the lead, set the pace, and when she finally settled down around him with a sigh it felt as though his entire body, not just his cock, was encased in that welcoming heat.

She closed her eyes for a moment and he drank in the sight of her.  Wiry hair sticking out in ten directions at once, breasts bouncing slightly as she moved very slowly against him, lips parted and glossy and a little swollen from their kisses.  "Oh, that's nice," she murmured, dreamily, as he guided her hips down even farther. 

Remus knew what she liked, and gripped her hips tightly, sliding his fingers around so they just teased at the inner edge of her bum,  and she opened her eyes and smiled, and began to move.  Her hands pressed down on his chest, fingers tangling in the curly grey hairs.  Up and down she slid, squeezing his cock, squeezing his nipples, her slick channel pulling nearly completely off him and then engulfing him again, over and over.   It was like plunging into a fire again and again, a fire that came just short of consuming him before it was removed and there was nothing but cool air around his prick until the fire returned.

"I want to see you come, love," he said, moving one hand from her hip to capture one of her hands and bring it to her clit.  There was something about watching her rubbing herself, tiny slow circles with the flat of her fingertips, which never failed to arouse him.  He thrust his hips in time with her motion, revelling in the little "oh" and "ah" noises she made, feeling her get wetter and firmer and tighter around him until she bit her lip and held her breath and suddenly shuddered her climax with a wordless gasp and he felt her inner muscles clenching, releasing, and clenching again.

Hermione bent to his chest for a moment, resting her arms against his body, and kissed him gently.  He felt her breath on his neck, warm and soothing.  The flicker of her pulse against his skin played counterpoint to the fluttering he still felt around his cock, and he wrapped his arms around her back and brought her to nestle tightly against him so that he could feel the beating of her heart as it gradually returned to its usual rhythm.

She moved against him and placed another kiss on his neck.  "Ready for more?"

"Trying to wear me out?" he teased, sliding his hands back down to cup her buttocks and support her as she lifted up again.  Oh, he loved this, loved to watch her ride him, moving up and down with abandon, and her face showed she loved it as well.  She'd once told him that her second orgasm came easier, that when he'd rubbed her or licked her to climax once, all she needed to do was have his cock inside her, thrusting just right, to bring her over the edge a second, a third, a fourth time.   He watched for the catch in her breath, the little gasp as she concentrated on the sensation; felt for the tightening ripples around his cock as she came again, and then powered into her, pulling her down with his arms against his thrusting hips, until the silken friction overwhelmed him and he howled his release into her body.

When Remus opened his eyes she was looking at him with wide, tender eyes and a soft smile.  He shifted and moved with her as she unfolded first one leg, then the other, stretching her body out on top of his and lifting her chin for a kiss.  A gentle press of lips, tongues flickering lazily and slowly into each other's mouth; a kiss that was only a little about passion and claiming, and a lot about love. 

Hermione rolled off his body and then immediately snuggled back up to him, tucking an arm under his neck and folding the other against his chest.  "You're remarkably gifted at distracting me, aren't you."  She sounded sleepy and content.  "But tomorrow the Ministry won't know what hit them, I promise."

"The Ministry can go hang themselves," he said, tangling his fingers in her hair. 


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http://hieroglyfics.net/hp/remushermione.htm | written October 2003 by Isis