Chapter 2285 - Ch: 1-2

Tenebrosity

Seekerofknowledge3119

Summary:

Tenebrosity (noun): the quality of being dark or shadowy.

Twenty-two year old bookshop owner Hermione Granger has a chance encounter with a biker who was born from the darkness and shadows she was so fond of. A man whose very existence seemed perfectly designed to set her body aflame and awaken desires within her that were previously thought nonexistent.

Now with cover art designed by the one and only Ayessel.

Chapter 1: A Shadowy Encounter

"Thank you for shopping here, happy Christmas. I'm sure your new addition to your collection will keep you busy," said Hermione cheerfully to one of her customers. The lady's lips turned up in a warm smile thereafter as she murmured her gratitude and bade her goodbye.

On some days when she ran her store, the twenty-two year old girl had to put on a masterclass in acting to make herself seem cheerful. Today, however, was not one of those days. So many people had come into her store to pick up whatever books or other bookish accouterments that caught their fancy. It was, put simply, amazing.

With nightfall having come as soon as it could and then a light dusting of snow following it thereafter, Hermione took great joy in watching the outside world gradually become a mess of white and other vivid colours from the faery lights that adorned each building around her store. Nothing could ruin her day and night.

That thought in mind had her smiling as she documented the last purchase in her ledger and updated the inventory to reflect it. Running a bookstore had allowed her some respite from the usual holiday craziness but that didn't mean she wasn't fond of the people who elected to buy books for Christmas. In fact, those people had her respect.

Ever since the turn of the millennium, technology had broken free from its restraints and rapidly advanced at blinding speed. New things were being invented everyday for pleasure, for leisure, for relaxation, and whatever else a good book used to be capable of doing. Nowadays, no one liked to sit down and get lost between the pages of a book.

No one wanted to be transported to a whole new and exciting world through mere words on paper. It was heartbreaking but there were still a few older souls who shared her beliefs. That gave her the comfort needed to trudge on in managing her bookstore. And a day like today, a week before Christmas when so many decided to pick up a new title, made it all worth it.

As she lost herself in the thoughts assaulting her, Hermione never noticed her store's door opening to permit entry to a new customer. So lost she was in her musings on technology and the death of books that it wasn't until a shadow loomed over her behind the counter.

"Oh, my apologies…" Hermione hastily began before thought left her mind. Standing over her in front of the counter was a man. More like a creature from the night. Clad in a matte black leather racer jacket and black jeans, the new customer also wore a completely blacked out motorcycle helmet. He was a shadow and so damn imposing.

Her heart skipped several beats in place, what felt like flames lapped at her suddenly burning skin, and the store suddenly felt devoid of any oxygen. Dear goodness. Hermione hated to admit it but she was scared. Whoever this shadowy creature was, he did not look like he was here for a new book in his collection.

"Do you mind if I leave my helmet here while I peruse your store, ma'am?" She blinked at him once, twice, then a third time and still did not realize he was speaking to her. His voice was muffled behind the helmet but sounded, for lack of a better word, young. "Erm…ma'am did you hear me?"

Biker Man was calling her 'ma'am'. At least he was respectful. Her heart started to regain an easy rhythm as the air filtered back into the room. Alright, the creature of the night didn't seem intent on killing her and sucking her blood out. Oh, what was she thinking? That was stupid.

"Are you alright, ma'am?" He called her that word again and suddenly, really suddenly, something else began to fill her belly. And it definitely wasn't fear.

She needed to speak instead of staring at him like a statue. "Yes, of course. Take all the time you need, your helmet will be safe here." Christmas miracles were real. How couldn't they be after she managed to get all of her response out without tripping over the words and suffering like some shy schoolgirl?

"I feel reassured already, ma'am." Oh. Now, she knew what it was that was in her belly. Butterflies. Lots and lots of butterflies. The girl trained a wondering gaze to her new customer and observed him undoing some kind of strap before beginning to remove his helmet.

Whoever this man was, he was…err…straight out of one of the more spicier books she had read. Tall and imposing, check . Vibrant and elegant emerald green eyes that housed a sort of darkness but also warmth, check . With a bed of silken messy locks that adorned him like a crown, check . Was this one of her fictional characters come to life?

Thankfully, before her mind could wander down that path of recalling the spiciest scenes from her books that involved men just like him, he set his helmet down gently enough to make only a soft thud. The sound was enough, though, to shock her back into London, 2001.

"Thank you again. I'm not particularly fond of leaving it outside with my bike and I don't like lugging the damn thing around everywhere," Biker Man added. Dear God, his voice was so much clearer now and those butterflies multiplied from thousands to MILLIONS. It was smooth, not unlike soft creamery butter, but had an undertone of darkness. If she could wholly compare it to something, his voice sounded like a wintry night in the highlands where nothing but the shadows and moonlight kept one company.

And she loved it. What few friends she had and her parents would be appalled to know that Hermione Granger, innocent little bookworm and bookstore owner, enjoyed the feeling of tenebrosity creeping over her.

He turned to leave her presence and begin his browsing around but she didn't want him to do so just yet. Hermione wanted to continue treading into the shadows.

"Because of the winter?" She called, hoping to engage him in conversation about leaving his helmet with her.

"No, because people steal and I would rather not have to hunt the brave soul who took it," he slickly answered. The promise of malice in his voice was not missed. Those butterflies evolved into bunnies that were hopping around and having a whole romp.

"And you're not worried about them stealing your motorbike as well?" inquired Hermione stupidly. Too bad she didn't recognize how stupid that was until after the words left her.

"It wasn't a stupid question, it can very well be stolen without my keys. Though, it would take a lot of time and I'd find out." Biker man smirked at her as if he bloody knew that he made reading her mind look elementary. Not only was he mysterious and shadowy, he was cocky as well. And he could read people. Hermione was certain this man had spawned from one of her smutty novels.

"What would happen if you found out they were attempting to steal it?" The girl couldn't help it. Curiosity got the better of her. Coincidentally, that same thing almost killed the cat. Hopefully Biker Man didn't think she was a cat.

Verdant orbs went black for a split second as a wide grin bared the shadow's pearly white teeth to her. "I'd put the fear of God into them so they never do it again." A sinful wink followed that promise and Hermione felt something coiling just below her belly. The baby blue cardigan she was wearing over her candy pink dress felt like a straitjacket now. "I'll be browsing around now, ma'am. I'll let you get back to your work."

Work was an afterthought for Hermione. Surely, he could read that from her. Work was boring. So bloody boring. She hoped she wasn't being an idiot but there was something about Biker Man's darkness that made her feel safe around him. A dozen murder victims probably had that same thought before her, however.

Still, he had not killed her yet. That was a good sign. Had she really fallen that far to consider someone not attempting to kill her a good sign? Probably. Did she care? No. This dark biker guy was something else. One of these days her love of all things mysterious and shadowy was going to do her in. Today was not that day.

A plan came to her. In order not to seem too nosy or desperate, Hermione gave her customer some time to find the aisles he was interested in and busied herself by exploring his helmet. She figured he wouldn't have too much of a problem with her peeking into the thing given the fact that he left it with her.

It was a heavy thing too. From the looks of it, it was perfectly safe and provided ample protection in case of an accident. Her Biker Man was intelligent enough to recognize that his safety mattered more than simply looking cool. Wait a second, her Biker Man?

The visor was tinted black, surprise surprise, and everything else was lined with the same color. Except for one thing. Engraved on the inner lining of the helmet were the initials 'H.J.P' in ruby red as well as a golden striped ball with wings on it. Next to those two was the word 'Seeker' embossed in gold. If she had to guess, H.J.P were most likely the initials to his name and Seeker was his nickname. What did H.J.P stand for? She just had to know.

Tucking the heavy helmet under arm, Hermione departed her counter and searched the store for her customer. It was, mercifully, not a long search as he was exploring the aisle on classical and ancient literature. A look of inquisitiveness and wonder had graced his features, like he was comfortable in her store. Like he was comfortable amongst books like she was. Ha, they had something in common.

"Have you found what you were looking for?" Biker Man turned to regard her with a shake of his head. "I completely forgot that I usually help my prospective buyers find their perfect book." That was a lie but he didn't need to know that. Only when people asked for help did she step in. This time, however, she wanted to step in for her sake.

"It's no problem. Yeah, I don't know what I want. I need something to keep me busy when I'm on the road." His curious eyes raked over the shelf that housed ancient literature from Homer, Dante, and others.

"Do you travel a lot?" Hermione asked, walking over to stand just beside his tall figure.

Her own height was somewhere around five foot five and he dwarfed her. If anything, he looked just over six feet. Probably two inches give or take. The size difference made the bunnies frolic around even faster in her belly.

"Not anymore than the average biker does. I'm around and about different places from time to time," he continued to her. Score one for Hermione Jane Granger. She was having a pleasant conversation with Biker Man and he was not bothered by it.

"Sounds like quite the lifestyle," the girl commented lightly. It was not appealing to her because of how much of a homebody she was but something about H.J.P made it seem suddenly better.

"It can be. Other times, it's a little stressful," he replied, giving her an opening to stretch the conversation out.

"Oh? How so? I'd imagine most of the stress comes from planning out the journey and times, no?" All the while she spoke, her eyes caught him becoming fixated on a copy of The Odyssey by Homer. A story about a man trying to get home, how fitting. She hoped Biker Man was not like Odysseus, though. For her own personal reasons, of course.

The man hummed his agreement lowly and it sounded like music of a very unique genre. One that could only be described as a feeling that invoked safety in the shadows. "That, shepherding my crew, pulling them out of whatever bar or woman they spent the night in, and slapping sense into them," he quipped charmingly.

So maybe he was like Odysseus. His crew certainly got around in more ways than one from the looks of it. Did he? It wasn't any of her business as to what he did in his personal life but it stung her to know that he and his crew treated women like her as nothing more than objects of sexual gratification.

"I don't sleep around, by the way. I can almost feel you judging me, Hermione," Biker Man teased, using her real name. Was it just her or did he make her name sound like it was coated in pure sex? Wait, the girl wondered how he knew it in the first place. "Your nametag, ma'am. It's on your left breast." Right. Arghhh, she was so flustered by him. "I hope I didn't overstep by using your real name. I think it's very…nice. It's Greek, right?"

Nodding tentatively as goosebumps erupted over her whole body, Hermione told him, "It is but my mum got the inspiration from Shakespeare. It's from…"

"…The Winter's Tale?" Those damned hypnotizing eyes had met hers. The urge to drown herself in them had her in a stranglehold but she had to resist. Had to. "That's a shame," that drew her intrigue and made her forget about those pools of emerald green momentarily, "it would be a better story for you to be named after the daughter of the face that launched a thousand ships."

Knowledgeable in Shakespeare and Greek Mythology. Bloody hell. This was the man of her dreams. He was heaven sent. Or maybe sent from somewhere else. His entire appearance spoke of anything but heaven. It spoke of wicked promises and sinful intentions. And despite all of that, the coiling in her lower tummy turned up to an eleven.

"Though, I reckon you should have been named Helen. Then again, Hermione's a pretty name in its own right." She had to do a double take. He had just called her beautiful, right? It was subtle and would not appear to anyone who didn't know but she was sure that Biker Man equated her to Helen of Troy, the possible most beautiful woman in history.

"Yes, well…" she had nothing else to say and averted her eyes back to the shelves. Hopefully the lights hid some of the dark pink tint on her cheeks.

It didn't. Hermione knew it right away. Her customer saw her blush as clear as day. At least he didn't say anything. From a sideways glance, she observed him finally settling on picking up Homer's magnum opus. That gave her another opening and she snatched it up like a hungry crocodile.

"The Odyssey? Have you read it before? I'm assuming you have given your knowledge of Mythology," she commented as he ran his fingers over the spine of the book in gentle drags. Was it possible to be attracted to long and thick fingers? With well cared for nails and not a hint of blemishes on his skin?

His fingers caressed the book reverently as he tilted his head toward her, an easygoing grin across his lips. "I have. Once, in uni before I dropped out. I think the story suits me a little, don't you?"

"Well, it is about a man trying to get home after all," noted Hermione.

"Nah, my bike is my home. The whole of Britain is my home. I was thinking about all of the challenges he had to face and conquer which he did rather well in my opinion."

God, he was willing to have an academic discussion with her on Odysseus. There was no intention behind his statement but they ended up spitting fire onto her heated skin, lapping at her and stoking the flames of something she felt late at night when the only company she had was one of her spicy novels.

Hermione had to face the challenge of fending off that new but oh so familiar feeling which she managed to do just barely. "Would you like to pay for this now? Or do you want to shop around?"

Oh God, oh God, oh God, he was moving closer to her. Oxygen promptly shuffled out of the store again as the tall frame of Biker Man loomed over her and pulled her into the shadows surrounding him. She couldn't faint. She couldn't faint. Not now. Be strong, Hermione, she pleaded mentally.

"I think I'll pay for it now and be out of your hair." Shit. That old familiar feeling got so much worse just like that. Now instead of just having that coiling feeling, there was that dampness in her…lower…regions in the space between her thighs.

Robotically, the girl turned away from Biker Man and began her way back to the register. The dampness was not ceasing, however, because he was following her with footsteps sounding through the quiet store despite him walking on plush carpet. She could hear the fibers of the carpet bend and strain under his boots as he tailed her. Even that made her antsy. None of her novels were going to be needed tonight, that was for sure.

"Do you want me to stamp something behind the cover? A piece of writing perhaps? Or maybe your name?" Yeah, Christmas miracles were definitely real. This was the second time one came through for her and allowed her to speak coherently.

He leant over the counter but took care not to invade her personal space. His lips curled up with mirth behind his eyes. "How about your name and today's date? I'd like to be reminded where I got this from." Hermione's heart stopped and proceeded to do backflips instead of pumping the blood she so desperately needed to keep her from going lightheaded. "You could put the store's name if you want but I like your name more."

Oh, she was definitely going to put her name. It would be a way for her Biker Man to carry a piece of her with him when he was riding around Britain. If tonight was all she got from him, then she was going to leave her mark on him. A wave of sadness hit her at that thought. After tonight, she most likely would never see him again. He would probably forget about her as he traveled the country and would find someone else who was far more pretty and deserving of his attention.

"Ma'am, did I offend you?" She hadn't even realized she was wearing her heartbreak like a detailed mask. He must have noticed it and his voice was so soft now. So easily he went from imposing to caring.

"You didn't, Mister…" she left the statement there, realizing she still didn't know his name. Only his initials but not what they stood for.

"Harry, Harry Potter. Please just call me Harry." There was H and P. What did J stand for? But before she could muse on that, Hermione found that she liked Biker Man's name. It suited him just like he claimed hers did. Harry. It was cute but refined just like him. It told her of a boy who was brave and had no trouble making friends that grew into an adult who was born to lead.

"You didn't offend me, Harry," said Hermione as she resoundingly stamped her name and the date onto the back of the book's cover. There. Her mark. Whenever Harry read this book, he was surely going to think of her. That would be enough. "All finished," she added fake cheerfully, knowing their interaction was at an end.

All she wanted to do now was go home. Taking a glance up at the clock, Hermione found it saying that it was just past eleven. She owned the store and decided her hours but the girl kept a strict schedule to avoid bad habits. Eleven o'clock was closing time. Home and her bed were beckoning. Tomorrow, Harry the Biker Man would be long gone and she would move on.

"Thanks a lot, ma'am. I'll be sure to cherish this copy for the rest of my life," he winked at her again to send her heart growing dove's wings, "you were brilliant." His praise had a certain je ne sai quoi about it. Totally indescribable. What could be described, though, was the wetness soaking her knickers. Those three words of praise washed over her like the flames of erotica.

"Hopefully I'll see you again, Harry the Biker Man." His smile widened considerably and a melodious giggle left her. He appreciated her attempt at humor. What little humor she had anyway. "I have to close up now. My day has ended sadly."

"Oh, you go home by yourself this late at night?" He questioned, looking worried now. If he wasn't so damned handsome and looked like sex on a stick, Hermione would be offended that he thought her incapable of protecting herself.

Hermione's expression was soft but no less firm. "I can protect myself, Harry. It's only a short tube ride and a little bit of a walk home." She shot him a kind smile afterward.

The next words out of his mouth had her doing another double take. "Let me take you home tonight. As a favour."

"What?" Surely, he wasn't being serious. Even if he was, Hermione reminded herself that her Biker Man was a stranger still. What if it was all an elaborate plan to murder her? The girl met his eyes with her own and found that, one, he was being serious, and two, he was not going to murder her. "Are you sure? I can surely take the tube, it's no problem."

"Yes, but you have a ready, willing, and able customer who'll gladly take you home." Gosh. Harry was so cute. Those marvelous orbs were imploring her. They sported none of the darkness she saw in them and were now nothing more than puppy dog eyes. Puppy dog eyes for her. Because he wanted to make sure she was safe.

"I've never ridden a motorcycle before," Hermione breathed to him. The thought of hugging from behind and pressing herself into his body as his bike roared from under her was…intriguing. Faint little pulses shook the spot between her thighs. "And I don't have a helmet for safety so you'll be without one if you give me yours. I'm not worth it. I'll be safe, Harry. I promise."

Something she said was definitely wrong. It had to be because Harry was no longer Harry now. He was the mysterious biker guy who entered her store. And worse, or maybe not worse, he was approaching her steadily with intent. Soon, Hermione found herself trapped between the wooden counter and her Biker Man.

"Never say those words again. You are worth it. To me, right now, you are worth it. I'll take you back to your home." She was losing her mind. Head empty. No thoughts. Just the feel of warmth from his body heat rolling over her. Just the way he loomed over to take her mind and soul. "Say it, Hermione. I want to hear you say you're worth it." Even if she did agree to go on his motorcycle, which she got the feeling she was, there was surely going to be a wet spot left on her seat once they arrived home.

The demand from him did not go unnoticed and Hermione just knew she couldn't disobey. If she did, Harry was going to be displeased. And she didn't want that. "I am worth it."

Only the sound of her hitched gasp played in the bookstore as his rough hand went up to her cheek. He definitely was invading her personal space now but she wanted him to. She bloody needed him to. Hermione's drunken and pleasured sigh unwittingly escaped her when his thumb caressed her soft skin.

"Say it again, Hermione. Louder this time," he ordered. The previous softness and concern in his voice was a distant memory. It probably never even happened.

The girl obeyed again because she was powerless not to. His voice hid the promise of punishment for failure to obey behind him and she did not want to feel that. Or maybe she did. How would he punish her? Never mind. "I am worth it," she repeated, louder like he asked her to but no less breathless.

"Good. You're brilliant." The words and his voice put her into a world of sexual bliss. The praise created a waterfall in that special spot. "Good girl. Now get your stuff and put on my helmet." Nodding, Hermione went to do as he asked only for him to hold her still with his hand on her chin. It wasn't at all forceful. In fact, she somehow felt safe. "I want to hear your pretty voice, Hermione."

"Yes, Harry." If she was in bed with him and he was having his way with her, those words would have sounded the exact same the way she said them.

After packing up her supplies and slinging her purse over, Hermione went to put on the helmet. It was way too large and would make her look like a bobblehead toy but it was for her safety. Her Biker Man would rather endanger his life than hers. Dear Goodness.

All thoughts erased themselves again as he stood behind her and lifted her hair up to bare the nape of her neck to the slightly chilly air. That wasn't what made her shiver, though. It was his fingers. They were tangling in her hair and treading so close to her suddenly hypersensitive skin. She slid the helmet down, not even caring how comical it looked on her, and turned to face him through the surprisingly clear visor. The black tint on it must have only gone one way.

"Good girl." Again he said those words and again her center quivered. Her dress and tights were not going to be enough to soak up her arousal. "Do you feel safe?"

She went to nod again but was reminded of his earlier stipulation. "Yes, Harry." There was no lie told. She did feel safe, both with the helmet on and with him.

"The bike is parked right at the front of the store. Walk out, I'll be right behind you," he commanded again. Her legs went ahead and began moving at his wish. Thank goodness they did because her brain definitely couldn't tell them to.

Like he said, the machine was right where she expected it to be. It was a huge thing too. Was everything Harry owned huge? It didn't look at all like one of those fancy street bikes. She didn't quite know how to say it but the bike looked…naked. The machinery and engine were not hidden at all and it appeared to support the rider being able to sit up and ride instead of leaning over to hold the handlebars.

"Hop on."

———

Hermione did not expect her desire to be exacerbated as she sat atop Harry's bike. She thought it was a constant thing, that her desire would remain at a manageable level through the ride. But being pressed against her Biker Man and feeling the bike rumble beneath her sent pleasurable shivers through her whole body and had her core tightening around nothing. The girl was trying her best to stave it off but something embarrassing was well on its way to happening.

"Where will you go after taking me home?" She tried to strike up conversation as they waited at a traffic light. Those damn things were taking forever. The less time she spent on the bike, the less aroused she would be.

"With my crew," Harry answered over his shoulder.

"And where are they?" Hermione questioned again, trying not to grind her center into the seat. Not that that would help anyway since the bike's rumbling was doing more than enough.

"I'll tell you in the morning." The fog of desire left her for a moment to be replaced by confusion. How would Harry tell her that in the morning? She hadn't even given him her telephone number.

That confusion would not be satisfied as the light changed at the exact moment she went to voice it. He took off again, making her wrap her arms tightly around his body and press her head into his back. "Please, please, please," she whispered to herself. The helmet felt like an echo chamber and she heard the words over and over again; her begging for her desire not to peak and crash over her.

Harry traversed the streets too easily, having only needed one look at his map after she told him where her flat was. She guessed he must have ridden through them dozens, if not hundreds, of times. That only made him more sexy. Made the nighttime ride with him that much more steamy.

All hope to stave off that embarrassing moment was lost as Harry kicked up the speed. The bike roared from under her and vibrated even more. Shockwaves erupted from her center and spread through her body like wildfire. Need filled Hermione. Untainted sexual need. Her thighs would not listen to her mind's commands as they ground themselves into the leather seat, pressing her center harder into it to feel the rumble beneath her.

They were only minutes away from her house because the neighborhood was starting to look familiar to her but another traffic light stood in their path. The girl prayed to every deity that ever existed for Harry to beat it but it didn't happen. It turned red and he was forced to pull to a stop, leaving her to fight a losing battle.

What was happening to her? She had sex before. Her partners had gotten her to finish some of those times. Not all the times sadly and the two who did manage needed excessive guidance. This was wild. How was she so turned on and Harry hadn't even taken her?

Oh God no. What was he doing? A ghostly touch of her Biker Man's fingers ran up her shin to her knee. And the light was NOT changing. She couldn't take much more. Not with the hot rumbles of the motorcycle underneath her, not with her arousal at a fever pitch, and not with him touching her leg with his fingers burning through the tights she wore.

When his hand left her, she really thought that was it from him. Nope. It was not even close. What happened next did her in. He throttled the bike, revving it up, and it went straight to her core.

It came quick. Gave her no chance to react. And shattered her. The hardened peaks on her breasts tightened like bowstrings as her center clenched around nothing and a slow dragged out husky moan left her. She was over the edge, having fallen off the cliff. There was absolutely zero way Harry didn't hear that. And if he didn't, the puddle left on his soft leather seat would tell him what happened.

Everything else was a haze for her as they arrived at the front facade of her flat. Harry parked the bike in a secluded enough corner and conveniently found an old discarded cover to drape over it. While he did that, Hermione chewed on her lip inside the helmet and waited for him to finish so she could apologize for the wet spot she knew he saw.

"I'm sorry…" Hermione meekly began but quickly drowned out her words with a yelp as he lifted her into his arms, his large hands palming her arse cheeks as he bruised his lips against her upper chest. "Ohhhh, dear God." His hands were massaging the soft flesh of her rear while he walked them to her front door.

"Helmet off. Now." The poor thing came off immediately because of how loose it fitted on her and she kept a tight grasp on it after her arms went around his neck. Split second later, Harry was kissing her. It was more like devouring her. Like he was trying to eat her from the inside out and suck out her soul. It was stealing all of the air from her lungs.

Imagine if her neighbours saw her as she was now. It was late at night, thank goodness, and she was pressed up against her door like a strumpet practically shagging a strange man. Hermione didn't even care. Didn't care as he slid her lower until his crotch rested against her yearning and he started grinding into it. Yes, yes, yes.

Harry overpowered her tongue and let her moan into his mouth for a long minute until he forcefully pulled them apart, dodging her attempt to seal her lips over him again. "Open your door, Hermione." That voice again. The one that was all shadowy and dark. The one that promised wicked things and sinful punishments should she disobey.

On her feet, shakily so, Hermione fumbled through her purse hurriedly to find her keys before turning her back to Harry. His breathing was stiff and shallow behind her, as if he was trying to rein himself in. It only made her more weak and wet. She was trying to get the key into the hole but her motor skills had departed her. Maybe she got it halfway in before it became stuck and she had to do it all over again.

It was taking too long, she knew, and her Biker Man grew impatient. Large hands were on her shoulders to anchor her as he pressed his body into her from behind, his chin on her head. "Take your time, love. I'm in no rush." With that, the key finally worked and the door came unlocked.

Both of his hands slipped from her shoulder and one of them went to pat her bum lightly, beckoning her in. His touch didn't leave it afterward either and maintained a possessive hold over the soft flesh. Only after she stepped inside and approached the coat rack did it leave her and she missed it immediately.

Turning back, she watched as Harry kicked the door shut and made sure his gaze didn't leave her when he did so. That was hot. All he did was close the door and Hermione was hot and bothered yet again.

The promise behind that act was probably what got her. The promise that he was going to spend the night with her. So that was what he meant when he said he would tell her where his crew was in the morning, she realized. He had fully intended on spending the night with her. Promises, promises.

Nostrils flared and lips parting just barely to get what little air she could manage, Hermione stood in place as Harry approached her like the predator he was. The promises behind his viridescent orbs told her that it was going to be a long night. He came to her, only a bare centimetre separating their bodies. His thumb and forefinger cupped her chin and brought her face up to his.

"Tell me that you want it, Hermione. I can't do anything if I don't know you want this," he told her, voice begging for her to say that she wanted this. Whatever this was.

Her mouth fell open and her mind guided her to say the truthful words that she knew would change everything with her Biker Man. "I want you." Harry pulled in a sharp breath, eyes flashing dangerously like green lightning.

His thumb slid up from her chin to walk over her lips. Subconsciously, she pulled it into her mouth and sucked lightly. Only after he growled at her did she realize how naughty that was. She loved it.

"I don't just have sex, Hermione. I take," his head bent closer to let his mouth rest near her right ear, "I get what I want and I do what I want. And what I want right now is to fuck you so hard and so much that you'll be thinking of me until you die." Hermione whimpered. That darkness she was fond of had taken hold of Harry and now it was possessing him to pull her deeper into it. She shouldn't have been able to need someone as much as she needed him right now. "Tell me no and I'll leave, Hermione. I can't be gentle with you. I don't want to be gentle with you."

"I want you," repeated Hermione. All she knew was him. All she needed was him. In whatever way he would take her.

"Then you'll do as I say like my good girl and I'll reward you," Harry dictated.

Forgetting herself, Hermione nodded. Until his expression morphed to displeasure, she hadn't realized she needed to use her voice. "Yes, Harry."

"Next time, I won't be this lenient. Turn around." The man screamed authority. He screamed that disobedience or ignorance would not be tolerated without even raising his voice. She did as was told and, not a moment later, did his palm come down with resounding force on her arse. Hermione squeaked and yelped at the pleasure-pain from the spanking. "If you don't listen, I'll have to keep doing that."

"Yes, Harry." The world blurred for a second when he spun her around at blinding speed and slammed his lips onto hers, sealing them together while lifting her up again. Jet black silky locks felt wonderful under her touch as he kissed her heatedly. He was consuming her. She was sure after tonight that her body and soul would belong to Harry J. Potter.

They broke apart again and she groaned frustratedly at the absence of his sweet lips. It pulled a little chuckle from him before he nuzzled his nose with hers. "I need you to pick a word, no more than two syllables. Think of the first word that comes to mind."

"Why?" Harry's eyes darkened momentarily, warning her. If he gave her a command, she had to obey. No questions asked. Hermione thought of the first word that came to mind. "Bikes." He was happy with her after that. Alcohol or drugs couldn't recreate this high. His lips found her cheek again and they turned up against the skin.

"If what I'm doing gets to be too much for you, you say that word and I stop. Okay?" He murmured into her skin and sprinkled kisses all over whatever spot his lips could reach. "The last thing I want to do is hurt you. I'll get what I want but make no mistake, Hermione, you're the most important thing here. You're worth it."

Through the haze of desire, his words hit a special place in her heart and drew a low sob from her. She tried to contain it and not seem like a total emotional wreck but how couldn't she feel so damn cherished and appreciated after that? And then he started to kiss the tears away. It was impossible for her not to feel loved and so damn safe.

"What are you going to do with me?" She whispered her question, unsure of whether or not she should be asking it to him without express permission.

Harry didn't mind the inquiry as he walked with her to her small kitchenette and placed her on the counter. Her legs spread open of their own accord for him to stand between them while her arms never left their position encircling his neck. His gaze was smoldering behind vibrant verdant eyes anyone would kill for and above wet kiss swollen lips.

"You'll be mine for tonight," he leant closer to her again and burrowed his stubbled cheek into her neck, "mine to take, mine to use, mine to fuck." The entire time he spoke, his lips were trailing over the skin and his hand had found her breast, taking an unwilling breathless moan from her. "And if you're a good girl, you'll get to come. By the time I'm done, you'll never forget tonight."

He wasn't at all being braggadocious or arrogant about his prowess in bed. It didn't feel like that to her. Hermione knew her Biker Man wouldn't lie to her and was guaranteeing her everything he just said. She believed his words, somehow trusted him more than anyone not named her parents even though she met him only an hour ago.

The hand that was previously palming her breast snaked back up to her cheek and his thumb brushed over her lips. She dutifully did it again, pulling his thumb between her lips and sucking on it until her cheeks hollowed out. Harry groaned at that and the power she felt had her thinking she was indomitable. "My good girl," it was her turn to let out a needy sound at the praise, "you like this?" She swirled her tongue around him in response, making him hiss.

In an instant, he had spun her off the counter and reversed their positions. Now, he was the one leaning against it with her on her feet staring lustily up at him, thumb still in her mouth. "Get on your knees for me, sweetheart," he rasped, sounding like he was parched.

Because she was his good girl, Hermione fell to her knees easily without complaint. Despite never having performed what she knew was coming on any of her partners, her books had provided enough details on what to do. And she wanted to do it. Wanted to have her dark Biker Man fall apart over her. Eagerly, she reached up to unbuckle his belt and jeans. Only one thing was in her mind.

"Excited, aren't you?" He petted her hair and twirled a ringlet around his pointer finger, low chuckles leaving him as she worked on his pants. When the jeans slipped open and she finally saw the imprint of his bulge on his boxer shorts, another unwitting moan left her. He was so big, so thick. "Suck my cock, kitten." The added nickname at the end came out in a whisper and she couldn't deny him anymore than she could deny herself air.

His cock sprang free when she pulled the underpants down and Hermione found herself staring fearfully at it. How was that going to fit when he eventually took her? It would be so painful. Loving hand stroking her neck and throat brought her attention back to Harry. "We'll make it fit. Don't worry about that right now." Goodness, he had read her mind again. That was too easy for him.

Desire overtook him again and his hand became more imposing as it pulled her closer to the tip of his cock. The girl startled when a bead of what she knew to be precum slipped out from the slit. Reflexively, her tongue darted out to moisten her lips. He was pulsing and twitching ever so often, somehow getting more hard. He looked delicious.

"Hermione," Harry warned to get her out of her blatant admiration of his cock. It kicked her into action and she encased the head in between her lips, swirling her tongue around the precum and getting her first taste of Biker Man. "Yessss, good girl." Had her mouth not been occupied, she would have smiled joyfully at the praise.

Her books proved to be the best teachers as Hermione moved lower, taking as much of him into her mouth as she could without gagging. Then, her tongue licked the underside of him as she sucked deeply.

Cheeks hollowed out and lips needily pulled at his cock. The thick vein and ridges on the underside of his cock rolled over her tongue, making her moan at the thought of feeling them inside her. She knew the sound sent pleasurable vibrations through him because of the husky groan that left his throat.

She felt her curls knotting around his fingers to steady himself. He was trying his best not to be forceful with her but a lascivious thought crossed Hermione's mind. Harry had to lose control. Flicking a lusty look up at him through her hooded amber eyes, the girl pulled back until only the tip of his cock rested on her lips.

"Fuck, you're so good, babe." Hermione's lips curled up before she blew a faint breath onto the dark pink head of his cock. Her Biker Man shivered and the motion went straight to her core, sending a stream of wetness to ruin her knickers even more.

She kissed the tip again and darted her tongue out to lap at it, just enough to drive him nuts. Then, like one of the female leads in her spicy novels, she brought her hand into play and cupped his balls underneath to massage them. "Shit, where'd you learn that?" Harry hissed again and became insensate with pleasure when she squeezed them lightly and then lifted his cock from her lips to slide her tongue over the underside.

He tasted so good. His hygiene must have been on point and so was his diet. By no means was she an expert in doing this sort of thing but she was a quick learner and was eager. Hermione knew she would only be eager to do this with Harry. No one else could get this from her.

After stroking him against her lips, Hermione dove back in with aplomb for another taste. Her hand covered the length she couldn't take with her mouth and still he was reaching the back of her throat. She willed her gag reflex not to work because she just had to do this to him.

"Close…babe," he ground out to her. He attempted to pull her off of him, most likely thinking she didn't want him to finish in her mouth, and Hermione batted him away. Using her hands, she pushed his thighs back and went up to cup his arse as she sucked his cock.

She worked him over and over again, moving fast as she pulled off his length and sank down onto it repeatedly. When the first signs of his orgasm came, Hermione pulled back until just his tip was in her mouth and lovingly caressed it with her tongue in circles before sucking it deeply to draw his climax.

"Fuckkkk…" whatever else he had to say was lost in the sea of almost exhausted moans and whimpers as she took him all the way in her throat again. He filled her up afterward, cum splashing down her throat as he came titanically.

And she swallowed it all. Not even daring to waste a drop of his essence.

It became too much for Harry to take after that. His control snapped and he pulled her to her feet, wrapping an arm around behind her knees to lift her up as their lips met again and his tongue darted into her mouth to taste the remnants of him. It left her in a state of sexual bliss again and she was lost in the space between reality and paradise. They broke apart and Harry pulled her bottom lip between his teeth to send shockwaves of pain and pleasure rippling through her.

"I'm going to ruin you."

Chapter 2: Dark Desire

Summary:

Harry makes good on his promise to Hermione and brings her deeper into his world.

The very first thing Harry imagined when he saw Hermione was how good her dark chocolate eyes would look when she was on her knees staring up at him with his cock down her throat. After some playful flirting, that imagination turned to reality. Barely even an hour after they met, he got to see her sucking his cock and enjoying it like it was the best treat in the world.

Obsessed wasn't even the word to describe him when he first stepped into Hermione's bookstore. Unlike his crew, particularly Ron and Seamus, Harry didn't attempt to sleep around or have himself a myriad of women. He had two serious relationships and had been single ever since. But when he saw the adorable bookstore owner, the raging fires of lust raised within him.

That dark voice in the back of his head kept reminding him. He had to have her. He had to take her. He had to ruin her. After she told him she was on the pill, he was ready to obey that same voice.

Now, he was going to do just that. After walking her back to her bed and peeling his shirt and jeans off, Harry was going to watch his good girl strip for him. She had a little study in her bedroom and he took the chair as his seat, cock hanging out of the slit in his boxers for her to see. The little minx licked her lips and fidgeted with arousal as she lavished attention over his lengthy pride.

"How are you still hard?" Her voice was still so innocent and meek even after what she just did to him in her kitchenette. It only made him want her more. He was going to steal every last trace of innocence from her. That was who he was tonight. A thief.

Harry's darkened stare trailed over her cute outfit. She had on her black tights under her bubblegum pink dress with a light blue sweater thrown over it. The outfit was sweet and innocent just like her. He wanted to see her take it off for him. Wanted to watch her prepare herself for him to fuck her so hard that she wouldn't remember her name and her pussy would ache each time she remembered this night.

"Because of you, Hermione. I can't get enough of you." His teeth gleamed in the darkness of her bedroom and his good girl shivered at the sight of them. Her fingers tugged at the hem of her dress and she watched him through hooded eyes, awaiting his command. "You want to be a good girl, right?"

Hermione nodded again. She was new to this arrangement and he couldn't fault her but that didn't mean punishment wouldn't be swift. "What did I tell you, Hermione?" He transformed himself into something akin to an instructor with that question.

"That you wanted to hear my voice, Harry," she answered quietly, finally realizing where she went wrong and looking ashamed. No, that wouldn't do. Punishment was for both of their pleasures and not at all meant to make her feel less of herself. "I'm sorry."

"Come." She moved purposefully but her countenance showed a mixture of fear and desire. Perfect. "Never feel ashamed for making a mistake. This arrangement isn't to make you feel like you're weak or worth nothing. Your mistake has already been forgiven." Harry patted his thigh in a clear motion for her to sit which she did right away. She was so light, so delicate. He wanted to fuck her apart. Ruin that exquisite delicateness. "But I still have to punish you. You'll be my good girl and take it right?"

"Yes, Harry." Her plump and glossed lip was worried between her teeth afterward but he knew what he was seeing. She wanted to be punished. The innocent bookstore owner was not so innocent after all.

"Strip for me, Hermione. I want to see you," ordered Harry. He coaxed her off his thigh and noticed the wet spot she left on it. His greed was unabashed as he dabbed over the wetness with a finger and brought it to his lips. Delicious. Sweet like forbidden fruit.

Flicking the lamp switch on, Harry relaxed in his chair and adjusted his cock. It flexed and twitched needily but he ignored it in favour of watching his little kitten. She, however, was still staring at the length with unadulterated hunger. She hadn't begun to remove her clothes and his face changed to show his reproach. That spurred her into action.

The baby blue sweater was the first to go. Hermione tentatively pulled the cozy item off and bared the creamy and buttery smooth skin of her shoulders and arms to him. By no means was he a novice in sex but this woman had him threatening to burst at the seams like some inexperienced teenager. He only saw bits and pieces of her body and he was fucking losing it.

There was a pause in her actions when she looked at him expectantly. He knew what she wanted. Praise. Had a bit of a praise kink, did she? Or maybe she wasn't sure about her beauty. Whoever the hell were her previous partners were going to pay dearly for making this woman think she was anything but beautiful.

"You're beautiful, Hermione. Gorgeous," said Harry, truthful. Happiness flitted by her face. So adorable. His good girl. The voice in the dark side of his head reared its head again. He wouldn't be gentle with her. Couldn't. "Go on, babe. I want to see all of you."

His words were followed to the letter as she went to remove her tights under the dress. The swing of his gaze followed and traced every movement, watching her lift the hem of her dress before hooking her fingers over the waistband of her pants, and then falling down with them as they pulled it down to reveal inch after sexy inch of her thighs and legs.

"Fuck, babe," Harry breathed. Images of those legs spread wide to permit his cock entry to her pussy played like a movie in his head. Vivid imaginations of those thighs wrapped around his waist as he rammed himself deep into her had him weak. Then, his eyes caught sight of the white cotton of her panties. She had removed those too.

All sense of control lost, Harry crooked his finger at the garment. "Bring them to me, Hermione." In spite of her shyness, the little minx did as was told and brought her knickers to him. The blasted things were ruined. Sodden from her desire. They were damn near see through with how much they had been soaked. And the smell, ohhhh, the smell.

"How long have you been like this?" He had his suspicions when she started to grow wet with desire for him but it would be loads better to hear it from her sweet innocent mouth.

"S—since the bookstore," she tremulously answered.

A smirk came across his lips. Very rarely was he wrong and this was not one of those times. He had his suspicions about her arousal while he was in the store with her but this was the total proof. Little Miss Innocent Bookstore Owner had been drenched just from talking to him.

Keeping his jade eyes on her, Harry brought the cotton panties to his face and buried his nose into it. Damn. So damn sweet. She smelled like dessert of the sweetest kind. And he loved dessert. He breathed in her scent, almost tasting the cinnamon and honey of her arousal, watching as her mouth fell open while her nipples hardened under her dress. She wasn't wearing a bra and the peaks of those delectable delicacies made his mouth water.

"You've been a bad girl tonight, Hermione." No bra, soaked since he had been talking to her, fucking herself to orgasm on his bike when they rode home, and then sucking his cock like it was the best thing she could ever do in her life. Her sins tonight were numerous.

"Are you going to punish me?"

Harry took another whiff of her aroma and discarded the piece of clothing before he rose to his full height. Towering over her and casting her in his shadow, he nodded his affirmation stiffly. "Lift your arms." The command was tinged with the darkness that now consumed him.

He loved when she obeyed him without question. She was so dutiful, so malleable. She would bend and break for him at his command. Hermione held her arms above her head as he bent to lift her dress. Low grinding like his boots walking on gravel sounded from his throat when more and more of her scrumptious body was shown to him.

Da Vinci and any other painter before and after him had nothing on the artwork in front of Harry. Breasts full and perky, just perfect to fit into his hand. Dusky and rosy nipples adorned the mounds of flesh, hardened and begging for his mouth to be upon them. Soon. His eyes went lower, down to her flat tummy, to her midriff, and finally to her mouthwatering and dripping pussy. He was going to have to restrain himself. Punishment was first.

His voice was not his own. It was of the wicked creature that lurked in his head. "On your bed, now. On your hands and knees facing the wall." His good girl turned to obey and he just couldn't resist swatting her arse. Her little yelp and squeak painted a cruel smile on his face. There was more where that came from. "You remember your word for if it gets to be too much?"

"Yes, Harry." Good, she didn't nod again. Maybe he would be a little lenient on account of how fast and eager a learner she was.

"Remember, this is not to hurt you. If it even begins to hurt or make you feel badly, you say the word and I stop. Otherwise…" he cut the statement and left the suggestion open to her imagination.

"Yes, Harry." Normally, he would have had her call him 'sir' or even 'daddy' like one of his exes did but there was something about his name falling from Hermione's lips that sounded better than even the best music.

"Count for me." Her confusion was visible even without seeing her face. Harry smirked again and raked his eyes over her bared pussy, watching the folds drip and spasm occasionally. It almost made him give up on punishment but, no, she had to learn. "You'll know soon enough."

Small sounds of fright escaped her when he forcefully dragged her to the edge of the bed by the waist. She weighed practically nothing to him and was so damn small. That size difference burnt a hole through his heart. The peach shaped bum in front of him, slightly pinkish from him spanking her, presented itself in glorious detail and he just had to bend his lips to it and press a little kiss on the soft flesh of its cheek.

Her pussy turned even wetter at that. Such a wanton good girl. That worked in her favour. "Count," Harry spanked her on the same cheek he just kissed, "after every one of this." Hermione whimpered at the slight pain but nevertheless started the count.

"One." Brilliant. The milky flesh on the cheek was intensely pinkened now.

Harry raised his palm again and resolved to be a little more gentle than usual. He brought it down smoothly, making contact with her arse again on the same spot where his handprint was starting to form.

"T—two," Hermione cried. Subtle shivers rolled over her entire body and that delicious little pussy pushed a stream of her juices out of her.

Another resounding clap echoed through the room when his palm swatted her bottom again. It made her fall forward on her elbows and her body arched downwards to present more of her arse to him. "Three." The count was muffled by her face being buried into the bed and Harry had to fight against the urge to get behind her and bury himself deep into her tightness. Not yet.

He swatted her again, easing into being more gentle but no less authoritative. Like he told her, spankings were not to hurt her. It wasn't even to make him feel powerful. It was to harden his cock and soak her pussy. That was it. Nothing else.

"F—F—Four." His poor little kitten. Harry made a face at himself for softening up and deciding to end her punishment at five spanks rather than ten. Her innocent and shaky voice did him in.

"Good girl, I'm so proud of you," he praised lowly. Flesh rolled and sunk under his hand when he caressed her before one last little swat sounded through the room and made Hermione cry out in a combination of rapture and pain.

"Five." No time was wasted by him when he pulled her up and spun her around to face him. Sitting back on his knees, Harry lifted her to straddle him and trap his cock between them while he assisted her in twining her arms around his neck. "Did I do good?" Oh hell, she was so unsure of herself and, yet, was sure about wanting to please him.

The dark monster retreated back into the recesses of his mind and allowed him to speak softer and tenderly at his precious kitten. "You did so well, kitten. So well, my good girl."

"I'm your good girl," she told him firmly despite her shivers. His large hands kneaded her shoulders and the pillowy skin of her back to warm her up. Her declaration turned his lips up and he gave her a soft chaste kiss on the lips.

"Yes. Yes, you are."

His kitten crushed their lips together again to kiss him like her life depended on it. He let her take everything she wanted from him and gave into her forceful tongue when it dominated him and snaked down his throat. And she started to grind herself on him, using the ridged underside of his cock for friction. Moaning into his mouth all the while.

And then, finally, she pulled back and said the two words that rendered him senseless into a creature of sexual desire and nothing else. "Ruin me."

In an instant, he had her laid down on the bed with him holding his frame above her on his forearms. She was so beautiful with chocolate brown orbs that were wide with desire and darkened with lust along with tasty pink lips that parted in a gasp when his raging cock laid on her tummy.

"I'm going to fuck you until you scream, babe," whispered Harry. The way it sounded made it seem like a threat but it was a warning. Even he was worried about him fitting inside her but he was too far gone and she had just begged him to ruin her. "Remember to use your safe word."

Hermione nodded vigorously under him and said, "Yes, Harry. Please."

He grasped his length underneath him, tugging on it to coax it into more hardness. After, he positioned it right at her entrance and rocked over her just to lubricate himself and tease her. "Please what, Hermione? Use your words, babe." His erection slid over her three times as he bent to suck on her sweet nipple. Every part of her tasted so good. He was going to have to get a taste of her pussy later.

"P—Please…please…ple…" she was so weak for him, so broken.

The enjoyment he was going to get from ruining her for anyone else was going to make his blood sing to the heavens. His cock dragged over her slit again, the underside pressing on her clit in faint pressure. Her hips bucked and rolled underneath him to try to push him into her.

Slick thumb padded over her cheek and pressed against her lips. "Come on, babe. Use your words. Let me hear those words out of your pretty mouth." He wasn't usually such a tease but this girl was too innocent. She needed to be changed. How many times had he said it already? She needed to be ruined. Harry notched the head of his cock right past her folds but didn't move, not even after an unholy moan flew past her lips.

"Fuck me. Ruin me. Please," his skin felt her hips undulate against it while she tried to pull him deeper into her yearning, "I want you…inside me…your cock…in MEEEE." She finished with a screech of the final word as he buried himself to the hilt inside her and threaded his fingers through her hair at the back of her head when he fell over her, his balls slapping against her arse because he could go no deeper.

No reprieve nor mercy was given as Harry kept to his promise. He just couldn't be gentle with her. Not when the tightest walls he ever fucked into incessantly suckled at his length. Her pussy was a fountain of her juices for him, allowing him to slide in easier and deeper. So wet for him. So needy for his cock.

Using the hand cupping her head, he roughly pressed her face into his shoulder while the other one pushed one of her thighs apart to let him slam into her. The music of her screams made him see stars behind his eyelids along with the silken caress of her clenching walls around his cock.

She arched into him and her breasts smushed with his chest, the nipples dragging across his taut skin. Harry couldn't stop himself from pounding harder into her and remaking her tightness to accept his size. The bed creaked and shook, the sounds bouncing off the room's walls as he fucked her into the mattress.

Just the thought of her struggling to sit and walk next morning was enough to make him piston into her pussy, hitting that special spot inside her while bottoming out. His stubbled cheek grazed against her own from their movements to add to the pleasure she was already feeling.

All he wanted to do was fuck her into submission. That thought drove his hips to crash against her with wicked force. Her pleasured yells turned into pitiful whimpers that hitched each time he withdrew and thrusted into her. Every time he hit bottom, a little squeak escaped her at the end of her moan. And she was still so wet and tight for him.

"Come on, babe," Harry egged her on. They hadn't talked about her wants and likes during sex but he loved talking his lover through their finish. The wet slapping of their skin picked up again while she moaned and cooed at him. "Yes, kitten. So good for me."

Her head fell back onto the pillow when his hand left it and started to thrash violently. "Ohhh, Harry," she moaned before a particularly hard thrust into her hot pussy stole another screech from her. The fact that she could even call his name during sex pissed him off. That couldn't happen.

It didn't seem possible but Harry drove his cock harder, faster, and deeper into a writhing Hermione. She rolled and thrashed under him before finally arching up into his body again, the room playing witness to the concert of her sounds of pleasure. He held her against him, hand sliding behind her neck while the other locked one of her wrists at their side.

"Scream for me, kitten," a devilish Harry whispered into her ear. That familiar dark creature controlled his body again, commanding him to do the things it wanted to do to her. A hot sweat broke out over him as his abdominal muscles contracted and his finish started to burgeon.

She had to come first. This was for his pleasure, yes. He was fucking her so brutally hard for himself, yes. But no way was he going to finish first. Fuck that.

Over the sounds of their hips meeting and her mangled mewls, Harry told Hermione, "Come on me, my good girl. Come all over my cock." His voice was surprisingly steady despite him hammering his cock balls deep into her luscious pussy. She was close, he knew it, and he delivered the final blow.

Reaching down, Harry's calloused hands found the smooth skin of her thighs and pushed them apart. He used them for leverage and slowed up his thrusts, electing to pull all the way out to the tip. Not even a second later, he rammed himself back into her suckling pussy, forcing her slick folds apart with the spear of his cock.

Two more deep thrusts later and Hermione was gone from the real world. Her ascent to the pleasurable paradise was marked by her howling long and hard into the night.

"FUCKKKKK," Harry roared at the ceiling when her pussy clamped down on his cock to keep him inside her as he came buckets. His balls constricted and churned out endless jets of his hot cum, filling her to the brim.

Hermione was a mess underneath him. Twitching and rambling nonsensically as her head rolled from side to side. The mixture of her slick and his steaming cum started to wash over his cock inside her and he pulled out, sitting back on his knees to watch her trembling pussy leak out their essence.

Throat rumbling, Harry let out an appreciative grunt when he saw it happen. The creamy and almost ivory white liquid of his cum pulsed out of her while her pussy lips folded and stretched around it. "My Hermione, my kitten," he fell over her again and took a firm grip around her throat, "my good girl." His tongue slithered out and licked a trail from her lips to her sweat laden cheeks, tugging a weaker moan from her.

This time he was going to be gentle, he decided. After the afterglow finished in record time, his cock had hardened once more and begged for him to sheathe it inside her warmth again. The night was still young and he had time. Lots of time. He'd fuck her until the morning dawned if she let him. Hopefully she would. He would take the all night workout from driving his cock deep into her pussy.

Harry notched his cock into her entrance again and pulled Hermione into a deep kiss. Sharp fingernails raked down his back and he would normally punish his lovers for doing that but with her, with her , he let her off easy. She was no longer in control of herself but had wrapped her legs around his waist and dug her heels into his bum to pull his length further inside her.

After how hard he fucked her, she still wanted more. Her innocence was well on the way to being ruined. She was lost in the throes of pleasure and still wanted his cock inside her for a second round.

Slowly and steadily, he stroked into her and ground their hips together. This time she wasn't screaming but was breathlessly moaning into his ear. Her arms slid up to lock around his neck and her legs fell back open once he was fully inside her.

This wasn't just fucking her anymore. Harry knew he was making love to Hermione. Knew he was being way more gentle and tender with her than any before her. It wasn't who he was but tonight, with her, he was willing to change that. Just nothing could be compared to her writhing and arching into him while her pussy clenched around his cock.

Shallow and grinding thrusts gave them both the chance to simply savour it all. They were together as a man and woman with nothing else between them. He had no desire to control her or dominate her this time. All he wanted was to bring her to orgasm again under him. For this round, he would forgo his usual habits.

The sounds of his cock meeting her pussy were squelching and wet. It was their combined essence that produced it. He felt like he was pushing the cum that was leaking from her back into her center as he thrusted in. Her walls and their warm cum had his cock feeling like it was in heaven.

Cupping her head to his shoulder again, Harry turned to nip at the shell of her ear and blew hot breaths into it. Hermione went crazy at that and he had to smirk. "Are you close, babe?" Sharp but otherwise forgiving teeth pulled her ear between them afterward; he never stopped his easy rhythm stroking into her. "I want to hear you, kitten."

After what felt like one long continuous moment of nothing but sex, another orgasm was ripped from Hermione with her silently screaming unabashedly. The utterly intense bliss of her sexual indulgence had taken her voice from her.

Pride washed over Harry when he saw her after pushing himself up off her body. The periwinkle hue casted by the moonlight gleamed off of her sweat soaked skin. Her chestnut shaded curls stuck to her forehead like a crown, befitting the princess she was. His little princess. He had so many nicknames for her already.

He hadn't yet finished and chased his own release with green eyes canvassing every detail of the woman taking his cock like she was made for it. Nothing like it. His innocent bookstore owner's face was blank and morphed into some kind of drunken pleasured mask. Thoughtless. That's what she was. Nothing was in her head except him and the feel of his cock parting her folds to drive home into her tightness.

Would he be selfish to give himself another orgasm when she was lying beneath him? He had already gotten two from her and she had gotten two in return. If he came again, he would outnumber her. That wouldn't be fair.

Two thick and wicked fingers slid down over body down to her pussy where his cock was still sheathing itself inside her. They found her swollen bud, the sensitive bundle of nerves that drove every woman wild, and strummed it like a guitar. Just like the instrument, it produced music in the form of strained mewls and keens.

Ever the multitasker, he continued playing with her clit while driving himself into her and maintaining deep eye contact. And then it happened. Hermione's dainty hand went up to cup his cheek as her lips formed a loving smile. That alone pushed him over the edge and he came for the third time that night.

The finish produced less of his cum than the last two times but was no less intense. Whites exploded behind his eyes and his brain had exploded into a starburst. He didn't know how but he heard Hermione gasp out her own release, her honeypot tightening around him in a vice grip while he emptied himself inside her.

They collapsed against each other and Harry hid his face in her bushy mane but made sure to expunge as much as his body heat to keep her warm. This night was everything he imagined and more. His cock was still nestled in her warmth but was beginning to finally soften before slipping out of her.

"I'm so sore," Hermione tiredly said underneath him, her voice sounding like the air of a ghostly wind.

Aftercare. Harry was reminded of what he considered the most important part of sex. He, as a dominant, had a responsibility to his submissives to take care of them after a session. And even though his body ached and he felt more tired after this session than any previous one, he would not forgo that responsibility. Especially because he couldn't do so with Hermione.

Wordlessly, Harry rolled them over to have her lying atop him before standing up with her cradled securely. He heard her confused sound and kissed the side of her head. "Don't ask any questions, kitten."

Whatever she was about to ask died in her throat. Her body unfolded and loosened its tension in his arms. Now, he was going to take sweet care of her.

———

Could someone fall in love with a person after one night of sex? Especially when the sex was good enough to make her see stars and memorable enough to carve out a permanent spot in her heart?

Hermione was afraid to answer that question. The reality of everything hit her. Harry was going to be gone into the wind with his crew in the morning and this was going to be nothing more than a one night stand. She had never done something like this before. All her previous sexual encounters had been during her relationships.

Tonight forced her to disregard that. Something about her Biker Man drew her to him and filled her with such wantonness that it would make even a succubus blush. The type of need she had for Harry and his amazing cock was hitherto undocumented. No woman, no person, should need anything like that.

It was over now, though. Her night of sexual relish was finished. Her mind saw fit to wonder if she would ever have a partner like Harry again? One who masterfully played her body like a pianist and wrenched orgasms from her at will. One who was willing to carry her to her bathtub/shower and sit with her inside it as the water filled the tub. One who would run his lips across her shoulder and the base of her neck like Harry was doing.

His lips paused in their ministrations and two demanding arms wrapped around her to pull her back against his hard chest. "Something's bothering you." It wasn't a question. More like an order for her to tell him through a gruff voice.

"When will you be leaving?" Hermione asked disguisedly to hide her true inquiry.

"You don't want me to leave." So much for the art of disguising her true intentions then. But again, how was she ever going to find someone who could measure up to this man?

Not trusting her voice to speak, Hermione nodded only to be reminded of his demands of her. As a matter of fact, she didn't care anymore. He had no right to make demands of her when he was literally going to leave her after their wonderful night together.

Maybe it wasn't wonderful for him.

It was probably just another night for him. He had said that he didn't sleep around but there was more than a chance that he had sex before. No one who did what he did to her was a virgin. No one. Maybe he didn't sleep around but he had to have had intense relationships. And maybe he only shared a one night stand with her because he was desperate.

Harry resumed the movements of his lips and skated his lips over her skin while a large hand palmed her breast possessively. "You think I've just used you because I was desperate, right?"

"Stop doing that," Hermione protested. More like begged. She couldn't take it anymore.

His words were soft and airy against her skin, feeling like an arctic wind. "You're my little kitten, my princess, my good girl. Do you really think I just shared a one night stand with you?"

"You're leaving in the morning," Hermione shot at him angrily.

"Do you want me to stay then?" Wait. Was he being serious? Nothing in his voice appeared playful or joking. Would he stay if she asked him to? The girl went silent and chewed on her lip as she gave thought to those questions. His crew and travels would be put on hold if he chose to stay with her. "Use your words, Hermione."

"Please stay." The words were out of her mouth before she could help them.

"Alright." Just like that. Wow. She honestly expected more of a fight. Hermione actually expected an outright denial. But he agreed. He was staying. "I can always travel around when I find time with you but I'll be damned if I leave and you end up finding someone new."

Darkness again. Harry wasn't behind her with his rapidly hardening cock resting against the small of her back. The creature of the night, the one that lurked in the shadows, the Biker Man was back. A lump formed in her throat and he must have sensed it because his hand wrapped around her like a necklace and commandingly pulled her backward.

"I'll be damned if you ever let another man touch you like I did. You belong to me," the hand necklace around her started to sink further into her unmarred skin, "no other man gets to see you come. None of them will ever see your pretty little lips wrapped around their cock." Hermione wondered what even was autonomy and independence at that point. If Harry wanted to control her then he would. She would submit to him. Another one of those devilish hands trailed down her front on the way to her tender core. "This pussy belongs to me now."

"Yes, Harry," conceded Hermione. Everything was Harry. The whole world and everything in and around her belonged to her Biker Man. "I'm yours."

"I like the sound of that, kitten," his thick middle finger slipped inside her yearning and hooked itself, "you are mine. Gonna spend all day fucking you until your pussy only knows and begs for my cock. Gonna spend the rest of the night making you forget about everyone else who's ever touched you."

"They weren't as good as you," Hermione tried to explain through her lust-covered tongue. He had nothing to prove to her about his prowess.

"Oh, I know. I don't bloody care, though. I'm going to fuck you so much that you'll remember it when you're at work behind that little counter in your bookstore." Another finger joined his middle one and started to thrust inside, mimicking the movements of his cock. She knew it was just to get her ready because after having felt him inside her, nothing else would ever be able to satisfy her like it did. "Even when you're helping whatever random customer, all you'll be thinking of is how good my cock feels when it's deep inside your pussy."

"You're so dirty," the girl whimpered, making him sharply turn her head so their faces were centimetres apart.

"Do you like it?" Their noses were touching now, lips a hair's breadth away from each other. She was embarrassed to admit that she did. That she craved his darkness and his filthy words. "Answer me, Hermione."

Her mouth fell open and her tongue shaped the words mechanically at his command. "Yes."

Fang-like canines were bared at her in a full blown smile. Promises, promises. Everything about the man with her right now spoke of naughty promises that were as yet unfulfilled. "That's my girl. You're so good for me. Never feel ashamed to tell me what you like and what you want."

The praise made her preen herself happily. Confidence like this had not been felt by her in ages, not since she had signed the deed to grant her ownership of her bookstore and began running it some five years ago. This Biker Man simply waltzed, more like rode, into her life and lifted her up so high that she felt like she was in the clouds. Oh, and it made her wet too.

She knew he could feel it; his fingers were still seated deep inside her and curling against her walls. The slickness pooling inside her core seemed to make itself a permanent fixture. Hermione had been aroused since the encounter in the bookstore and even after three destructive orgasms, it hadn't gone away.

"Still sore?" He asked, tone demanding yet again. It was a marvel that he could so easily take what he wanted from her and she wouldn't have minded but still chose to make sure she was in good enough condition. "Consent matters, Hermione. I would never take you until you tell me you want me."

How did that fill her with a wave of affection? In her past relationships, her partners never talked openly about sex and consent. They never actually even talked about sex and just kind of…fell into bed with her. Her last partner did actually listen to what she liked and needed during sex but even then, he needed guidance. Harry was so different. So comfortable. So confident.

Because of his experience.

Jealousy rocked Hermione after that thought. It was stupid and she had no right to be jealous that Harry had partners before her. Though, he was jealous too. He was possessive over her and angry because she had other people before him. Couldn't she feel the same? Would he even allow her to?

"I'm good at reading people but not that good, Hermione. Tell me what's bothering you, babe," said Harry, his hand leaving her throat to cup her cheek. She was too far gone and she knew it because the girl actually preferred for it to be around her neck instead of her cheek. Luckily, her indecision to speak the truth to him displeased him and she was wearing his hand necklace again.

"I'm jealous that you've had other women before me." If not for the insistent grip around her neck, Hermione would have avoided his gaze. The shyness and shame she felt was new to her. "I know it's stupid…"

"…it's not stupid. Don't assume the worst," he tightened his grip for a little moment that was gone as soon as it came and dug his fingers deeper into her center to put her in a state of delirium, "it's okay to be jealous, kitten. They're in the past now. You and I are the present. Don't forget that."

"You'll really stay?" It hit her all at once that he was being serious about staying. Some of her arousal cleared up to let her really think about it, his promise to her. Not just his promise to stay but his promise to…take…her so much that she would forget about her past lovers.

"I told you I was, didn't I?" Hermione was going to have to get accustomed to the different voices Harry used with her. That was another one of his marvels, how smoothly he could go from a young man no more than her age to the creature of the night that lit her skin on fire and ruined her body like he owned it. "There are a lot of things I'm not fond of, Hermione. Repeating myself is one of them."

The girl went to nod but managed to stop herself right in time. A low breath of relief left her before she confessed, "I'm scared." Baring her heart and soul to him was too easy. In all truthfulness, it shouldn't have been that easy. It was what made her scared. That and the still looming threat that she would wake up and he would be gone in the morning.

"Why are you scared, Hermione?" That shift happened again. The young man had returned and the shadowy creature had departed.

"Because I've never felt like this with anyone. Because you make me feel so…" loved. Saying that word felt like a huge commitment but it encompassed everything she was feeling. Safe, happy, secured, and peaceful. For as much control she kept in her day to day life, it felt nice to just surrender and plunge into black waters headfirst without any care for what lay underneath the surface.

Slick little tongue slithered out to coat her neck when his face burrowed into the side of it. "Answer me, babe. Do I make you feel safe?" Teeth replaced his tongue, pulling the skin between them and leaving marks of his possession over her.

"Yes," Hermione answered in a moan as the ministrations on her neck worked in rhythm with the two fingers still inside her tight heat.

"And do I make you happy?" Those same teeth were then discarded in favour of his lips which sucked a dark spot onto her neck.

She was so drunk. Lazy smiles and euphoric moans had her feeling like she had consumed a bottle of whiskey. "You do."

Air in the room shifted again. The girl knew what was coming as the familiar feeling of chill washed over her and her nerve endings were lit by a matchstick. "And I'm the only one you've ever felt like this with, right?"

Submitting to him willingly, Hermione answered, "You are."

The charming and once easygoing smile on her lover's turned vicious. Her weight was nothing more than a triviality for him because he spun her around and had her straddling him before standing up. Warmth that she knew was from his stiff and unyielding cock rested right below her center.

"Will anyone else get to make you feel like this?" One arm kept her lifted and upright against him while the next one directed his length to her entrance.

All that came out of her were needy whimpers and rambled murmurs of 'no'. That was enough for him to slide his big hands under her arse to bring her down into his thick cock. Eyes fell closed and her head turned weightless at the fullness of him being inside her. And it wasn't just the fullness too, it was the emotion of being one with him again.

"Look…At…Me," Harry furiously ground out at her. On some level, she understood what he wanted. That need to lay claim on her. For her to know just who was breaking her apart on his cock.

Her eyes flew open but the thoroughly pleased girl could only manage an unseeing stare. He bounced her on him, his palms digging painfully into her bum, and held her gaze as his length hit deep into her wetness. So easy, it was, for her to again surrender to his whims and let him have his way with her.

She must have weighed nothing to him with how he didn't even strain to lift and slam her down on him like she was nothing more than his toy. After the amount of screaming and crying out she had done her voice was weaker now just like her whole body was.

Hermione's own sounds of pleasure sounded muffled to her but she had to believe that she was whining and crooning from Harry's unrelenting motions. The pain of him stretching her walls out evolved into pleasure again. A near infinite kind of pleasure.

Then, he sped up. Matching his movements with harsh thrusts into her as he brought her down onto his cock, Harry fucked her at blinding speed. Everything became too much for her. Him. His cock. The slight pain of being stuffed so fully. All of it. And Hermione blacked out just as he roared at her to open her eyes.

Notes:

Feel like I should clarify this. This chapter is basically just a chunk of the story I already wrote. At the time I published the first chapter, I already had 15k words written and this was part of it. Instead of publishing it all at once in one story, I decided to put it into chapters to make it easy. Now I have 20k words written lol 😭.

And…uhh…the very first line of this chapter is certainly…revealing about Harry's intention 😆.