“No. I’m not going. And frankly there is no one powerful enough to make me.”
Pansy struggled valiantly not to burst out in laughter at the sight of Hermione having a temper tantrum.
“It’s just a Yule ball, Hermione. I hardly see what all the fuss is about.”
“Just a Yule ball?! Just a Yule ball…. Pansy, I have avoided them like the plague since the one at Hogwarts.”
Pansy rolled her eyes at the dramatic tone.
“I was, in fact, in attendance. And Hermione, I have to say that it looked to me like you were having a fine time. Even if I did hate your guts at the time,” Pansy said putting her hands on her hips.
“I also never wanted to date Draco,” Hermione squealed.
“And how could I have known that at the time? It seemed at that moment that everyone at Hogwarts wanted to date you. Even Fluer, as I recall.”
Hermione deflated considerably at the comment.
“I wish I had known…. a great many things about myself.”
“Is that why you don’t want to go? You don’t think you can dance with witches?”
Hermione huffed again.
“I am very well aware that I can. I just…”
Pansy sounded confused.
“Well, who would even dance with me?”
“Not to sound like an asshole, but who wouldn’t want to dance with you? Hell, I would dance with you, if you asked nicely.”
“I don’t want to dance with Ron.”
“No one is going to let that asshat anywhere close to you. But that doesn’t mean that dancing won’t be fun.”
“I have nothing to wear,” Hermione countered. It was obvious that she wasn’t going to win the dancing conversation.
“Terrible excuse. I will only take you shopping.”
Hermione collapsed in the closest chair feeling that defeat was near.
“Don’t give me that look, Hermione Granger. You know for a fact that I would never let you look anything less than perfect. And anyways, we are all required to go. So I really do not understand what all of this fuss is about. And unless you have become the Minister of Magic and you didn’t tell me, you too must attend.”
“Not yet,” Hermione groused. “But give me another decade.”
“I do not doubt that in the slightest. But in light of that, you will be going to the ball.”
“Fine, but I’m not happy about it.”
“There are some key differences between the one you attended at Hogwarts and the one we will be attending. As you have not managed to come to any of the previous ones since the war ended, perhaps you would like to hear about it so that you won’t be entirely unprepared.”
Hermione rolled her eyes.
“I suppose that would be nice”
“Good. I am glad that you are being so open minded,” Pansy answered sarcastically. “The modern Yule ball is a hybrid between the Yule ball we attended in school and the masked balls that the old families once held.”
“I am absolutely not wearing a mask,” Hermione huffed.
“I hate to break it to you, but you walk into the masked portion of the celebration the mask is magically applied. But I can’t imagine you going into that ballroom. It houses the remnants of our solstice bacchanals.”
“I feel like you are trying to tell me something here, but I feel the need to remind you that I am muggleborn. I was not read in on the traditions of the old families.”
Pansy rolled her eyes and blushed lightly at the need to be more explicit.
“It is a space where adults can experience sex magic together without societal repercussions. The masks help hide everyone’s identity, though if you recognize your lover’s body language I suppose there is no hiding. But it is where the rich and powerful go to play.”
Hermione was stunned for a moment and took a deep breath to attempt to find her words again.
“You are telling me that inside the Yule ball, there is a fancy playroom. And people I know go in every year.”
“Yes. But that’s not all. There is a ritual for rights to decline anyone you are not interested in. Which I need to teach you.”
“Why,” Hermione sputtered.
“Because you are of age and need to know how to consent or more importantly to express a lack of consent.”
Hermione nodded, though was still skeptical that she would need the knowledge.
“Very good. We must first discuss the drink served in the masked ball. It’s called Dragon’s Blood. It’s bright green and frankly delicious. But it’s a party drug for all intents and purposes. It doesn’t remove your inhibitions but it does make you more likely to act on your impulses. It’s beyond amazing.”
“I’ve been ordered to go to a ministry sanctioned sex party,” Hermione whispered to herself.
“Yes and no. It’s entirely possible to attend the ball and never find that portion. It’s tucked away and one must know what they are looking for. But there is no shame or stigma with indulging. It’s seen as a way to re-form the bonds of our broken society. And the results have been quite effective. From the number I’ve seen, 40% of mixed blood marriages post-war began at the masked ball.”
“Oh my god. This was the solution after the marriage bill failed. This is why it all went away so quietly. Holy shit.”
Hermione shook her head. It was hard not to feel like an idiot for not realizing that they must have found another way to encourage marriage and magical repopulation. She had been too busy at the time to be concerned once the mandatory marriage act failed.
“For what it’s worth, Hermione, this way has far more choice involved than that bill would have. Every step of the way you get to choose whether or not you participate. And no one judges one way or another. Not to mention it a wonderful place to meet people of any gender.”
“You have a point,” Hermione admitted reluctantly.
“Of course, I do. And you are going. Now let’s discuss what you might like to wear.”
Hermione wanted to keep up her absolute disgust over having to attend the ball, but when she looked at her reflection she had to admit that she looked damn good. Pansy had insisted on the red dress. In the store, Hermione had been unconvinced, but now…. well red was most certainly her color and the lace was revealing without being distasteful. And if she was going to go to the stupid ball, she might as well look like a goddess. She was wasting time in an attempt to not arrive early. It was bad enough that she was required to attend, but she would be fashionably late. When the clock finally reached 9 o’clock, she gathered her wand stowing it into a holster on her thigh and walked to the green flamed fireplace.
Stepping out of the flames and into the largest ball room she had ever seen was daunting. She was extremely tempted to turn right around and go back home. However luck was not in her favor. Pansy materialized out of the crowd as if on cue.
“Hermione Granger,” she cooed with obvious affection.
“Hello, Pansy,” Hermione answered in kind.
They kissed cheeks traditionally before Pansy linked their arms to move from the exit.
“I wasn’t going to leave,” Hermione said defensively to the unvoiced accusation.
“You were. I know that look. And with the way you look in that dress, it would be criminal. I am of half a mind to try to get you out of it myself.”
“What would Blaise say,” Hermione said in mock horror.
“You and I both know he would just ask to join us. He has always had a small thing for you. But what can I do? If I narrowed my dating pool to those not interested in you, there would be hardly anyone left.”
“You exaggerate my friend,” she complained.
“I hate to say it, but I do agree with her.”
Hermione spun around at the familiar voice and just managed to catch the flying redhead in her arms.
“Hello, Ginny. It’s lovely to see you, or it would be if I could see you.”
Ginny released her and stepped back.
“I must say, I am impressed, Parkinson. No one thought you would be able to get her here. And that dress. It’s a shame I’m a married woman, Hermione Granger, or that fine ass would be mine.”
“Is that so?”
Harry’s barely restrained laughter even at her expense warmed Hermione’s heart.
“Yes. I’m lucky you have such poor eyesight that you never tried anything. Because frankly you’d have to be blind not to want to hit that.”
Hermione blushed a dark red.
“Would you like to dance,” Harry said dramatically to her.
Hermione nodded. She knew a Potter rescue when she saw one. She gave Harry her hand and let him lead her to the dance floor. It was a formal tune that reminded her of the last Yule ball she went to.
“I am so glad you came, Hermione. And it only took the Minister of Magic declaring it mandatory for all employees for you to do so. He had to make a rule just to get you here.”
“I’m sure it wasn’t just for me,” Hermione countered.
“I assure you it was. This is the 10 year anniversary. It’s important for us to be seen for the bonds of reunification to be shown off.”
“Is that why everyone is staring at us,” she asked, feeling self conscious.
“Perhaps in part, but I suspect it is more about how you look in that dress. My wife was correct. You look stunning.”
“You look dapper in your tux, Harry. I’m glad to be here.”
Hermione let the conversation die quietly as it often did with Harry. He was comfortable with her silences and always had been. Dancing with him was so natural that she was able to observe the crowd. The witches and wizards were all dressed to the nines. Just as he was turning her a head of platinum blonde hair and an impeccably cut women’s suit caught her eye. She whipped her head around to see who it had been. She was so caught up in devouring Narcissa Black with her eyes that she hadn’t noticed Harry was slowing them down.
She felt a heavy hand on her shoulder at the exact moment the blue eyes met her from across the ballroom. She was forced to break her eyes away to look at whomever was attempting to get her attention. She turned to see Ronald Weasley already well within her personal space.
“Mind if I cut in, mate.”
He said the words, but practically drug Hermione away before an answer could be given.
“Ron. What are you doing,” she hissed.
He pressed his body closer to her’s and she attempted to back away subtly.
“I’m reminding you why you should be mine. I don’t mind that you’ve sown some wild oats, but it’s time to settle down and get married. Not everyone would be so generous as to forgive and forget.”
Hermione kept dancing so as not to draw attention to the conversation.
“We have been broken up for 9 fucking years, Ron. I am not looking to rehash the past with you.”
“You don’t mean that Hermione,” he said forcefully and pulling her closer.
A slender hand closed over his shoulder awkwardly halting their movement. Hermione looked up into the cool blue eyes and felt the magic radiating off of Narcissa Black.
“That was an outright refusal, Mr. Weasly. Step away from Miss Granger before I have you escorted from the grounds,” she hissed.
“I’m an auror,” he protested. “You couldn’t do that.”
“I’m an Unspeakable, Mr. Weasley. I assure you I could. Now, do as I say and leave Miss Granger in peace.”
The red head stomped his foot, but turned and walked away obviously angry.
Hermione and Narcissa stared at each other for a moment before Hermione managed to say,
“Would you dance with me?”
“I’d be honored,” Narcissa answered with a slight bow. The masculine gesture was remarkably attractive on the beautiful witch. Narcissa’s grip was firm and sure. Hermione stepped closer as they danced and allowed the witch to press their bodies lightly together.
“Thank you for rescuing me, Madame Black. I have been avoiding balls for that exact reason.”
“It was my pleasure, Miss Granger. It’s not even the slightest imposition to dance with the most beautiful witch in the room.”
“I am glad to hear that as it would be quite difficult to dance without yourself,” Hermione answered without thinking.
“Miss Granger, you are every bit as entertaining as I had hoped,” Narcissa purred.
Hermione shuddered at the tone of voice and then blushed knowing that there was little chance that the blonde would have missed it. And the wink from the blonde confirmed that she had gotten away with nothing.
They danced quietly for two more songs. Hermione found the woman’s presence calming and intriguing in equal parts. She enjoyed the feel of her arms around her and the comfortable strength of the witch. She had barely noticed that any time had passed, when Narcissa began navigating her back to her friends.
“This has been a true pleasure, Miss Granger. I shouldn’t monopolize your time any further, though it would be quite easy to stay in your company indefinitely. I am not leaving any time soon, do not hesitate to find me again if you are in need of rescue.”
With another gallant bow, the blonde disappeared into the crowd and Hermione attempted to catch her breath.
“How entirely typical that you would be rescued and then romanced by Narcissa Black. You do nothing in halves, do you Hermione?”
Pansy’s voice broke her from her trance of looking at Narcissa’s retreating form.
“I… she found me.”
It was a weak answer even to her own ears.
“Oh, I never doubted that she did. I just was unaware of your tastes. I would have happily introduced you to her ages ago, or any number of witches like her.”
“I am not sure there is anyone like her,” Hermione whispered as she caught a flash of blonde hair at the far end of the ballroom.
“Hermione Granger, I do believe you are smitten with Draco’s mother.”
Hermione paused for a moment trying to access if it was true.
“I think I might be.”
She considered lying, but there was little point. She couldn’t deny the obvious connection they had. Nor that she was staring.
“And you are certain that you don’t want to try the masked section? She knows the old ways and she did openly find you. I have no doubt that she has considerable interest.”
Hermione was beyond intrigued. The secretive room, the seductive and beautifully dressed witch, even the slight suggestions of what could go on were… desirable. She must have waited a moment too long, because Pansy spoke again.
“You deserve to have fun, you know. I more than anyone else knows that you have lived like a nun. I’ve never seen you even remotely interested in someone. You should do it.”
Hermione looked over Pansy’s shoulder and watched Narcissa disappear into a doorway she could have sworn had not been there before.
“Can you show me how to get in?”
Hermione forced herself to make eye contact with her friend.
“Oh I thought you would never ask. Before we go, lets make a quick stop at the loo and freshen our lipstick. The masks make it count more.”
Hermione rolled her eyes, but let herself be led. Pansy was right that the quick break was a good idea. She didn’t know when or if she would be able to find facilities in the other section of the ball. And she was fairly certain that she would not want to waste time if she had eyes on Narcissa again.
Once their lipstick was well applied, Pansy led her quickly towards the area where she had last seen Narcissa. Pansy raised her wand and muttered a spell that Hermione could not quite hear. But before her eyes, the wall melted into a very old looking wooden door. With another flick of her wrist, the door opened dramatically. Hermione paused, but after a beat stepped into the much darker space. She felt the wards wash over her. It wasn’t unpleasant, but it was invasive. She touched her face. The mask covered her eyes and nose. She turned to look at Pansy and hoped that her mask was equally elaborate.
A masked man with a tray appeared in front of them with small vials of the vibrant green liquid. They both took one and looked at one another.
“Do you remember the words, Hermione?”
Pansy’s question was both sweet and teasing.
Hermione held up her drink.
“To the darkness and the light and everlasting glory.”
“To the flesh and the soul and everlasting pleasure.”
They both downed the drink. Hermione enjoyed as the warmth worked its way through her limbs. She could certainly see why Pansy liked it.
“Do you have it from here,” she asked distractedly.
Hermione followed the line of Pansy’s eyes to where Blaise stood. She could tell it was him even with the mask in place.
“Yes, of course.”
“Have a good time tonight, Casanova. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
Hermione watched Pansy practically skip over to her boyfriend who looked equally happy to see her. She took a deep breath and did her best to actually look at those around her to try to find Narcissa. As often still happened when she was in crowds, the people all blended together. She walked to the closest bar to acquire another glass of champagne. If she couldn’t find the blonde witch, she had no interest in another round of Dragon’s Blood. She took a sip of the wine and tried to look natural, even though she was deeply uncomfortable.
“Before tonight,” a sultry voice sounded over her shoulder, “I would not have ever imagined that I would see you here.”
Hermione immediately relaxed at Narcissa’s voice and turned happily to face her.
“I am not sure I would have imagined I would have been here either. But I also would not have dreamt that you would dance with me nor that I would be so drawn to you.”
She flinched at her honesty. It was more than she would usually share, but she didn’t want to beat around the bush with Narcissa.
The deeply sexy chuckle was well worth the disclosure.
“And yet, here we are. How fortunate.”
“It is indeed. Would you… would you dance with me?”
Hermione didn’t mean to sound uncertain, but Narcissa was unbelievably attractive with or without the mask.
“I would love to.”
Hermione took the gallantly offered arm and went to the smaller but still crowded dance floor. She didn’t resist when Narcissa tugged her closer than before. She sighed at the contact. It felt so good to be held tightly by the witch. The dance was slow and sensual, but Hermione burned with the need for more. She gently traced her fingers down the edges of the pretty masked face. Narcissa turned to where their lips were nearly touching and paused.
Hermione saw it for the invitation that it was. She slowly closed the distance, giving Narcissa every opportunity to move away. But as the blonde did no such thing, Hermione connected their lips. It was soft and shy and entirely shifted the center of her universe. She had certainly kissed others, but she almost felt as though she hadn’t.
When they finally broke apart, Hermione couldn’t help but ask,
“Was that the Dragon’s Blood?”
Narcissa smiled and shook her head.
“No. I haven’t had any so far this evening, but in the past when I indulged it did not feel like that.”
Hermione hummed and rested her head comfortably on the blonde’s shoulder as they danced. Being nestled so near to the pale column of Narcissa’s neck was temptation itself.
“I’ve had one,” Hermione confessed.
“How is it making you feel?”
Narcissa’s question was calm and kind.
“Warm, open. It's making me feel everything that I normally bury so far that I can’t feel it.”
“Are you enjoying it?”
Narcissa guided them to a sheltered seat. It was quite small and so Hermione made the executive decision to straddle her lap.
“Hello, Miss Granger,” Narcissa smirked and placed her hands on the witch’s hips keeping her in place.
“Hello, Madame Black.”
Hermione ducked her head to steal a slow luxurious kiss. She threaded her fingers in the long loose blonde hair. When Narcissa pulled her closer to explore her mouth more thoroughly, Hermione tugged the hair just at the base of her skull.
“Fuck,” Narcissa mumbled gasping for air.
“That is certainly on the table if you keep kissing me like that,” Hermione said quietly, allowing them both to breathe. She hiked up her skirt a bit more so she could sit more comfortably on the blonde.
Narcissa was poised to respond when a waiter appeared again with Dragon’s Blood. Hermione waited until the blonde took a glass before she picked up her own.
“I am going to be a bit ahead of you,” Hermione said looking at the liquid.
The blonde quickly picked up a second glass from the waiter and gave him a significant look to leave them.
Narcissa looked into Hermione’s eyes and repeated the now familiar words.
“To the darkness and the light and everlasting glory.”
“To the flesh and the soul and everlasting pleasure.”
Narcissa downed the two in the time it took Hermione to finish her’s.
“I would so hate for us to be on unequal footing,” Narcissa purred. She traced her hands down Hermione’s curves.
Hermione claimed another kiss that was so toe curling that she couldn’t keep her hips still. She wanted so badly to have the blonde beneath her with significantly less clothes on. She suspected that Narcissa wanted the same when she felt something hard and growing harder beneath her.
“Narcissa,” she moaned. “I don’t think we can stay here. Is it safe to travel by floo?”
The blonde chuckled and continued to encourage Hermione to move her hips.
“It is safe. Where do you want to go,” Narcissa said between nibbles on Hermione’s neck.
“Somewhere preferably with a bed and without a lot of neighbors.”
“Without neighbors,” Narcissa was clearly working through why that might be relevant.
“If you want me half as much I want you, no silencing spell in the world is going to be enough,” Hermione said dramatically.
“My cottage is on land,” Narcissa said, helping Hermione to her feet. “I assure you no one will hear you through my wards. You are quite clever to know that I’m going to make you scream. “
The blonde’s presumption made Hermione want to push Narcissa back into the chair, but she promised herself that she would remember it later and exact her revenge. She went happily with Narcissa to a floo she hadn’t noticed in the room. It was far wider than usual.
“We will travel together. It will be perfectly alright.”
Hermione nodded. She had already decided that she would trust Narcissa with her life. She was extremely grateful that floo travel was near instantaneous, because she needed Narcissa’s lips back on her’s.
She stepped out of the green flames with Narcissa’s hand on her hips. The blonde was pushing her into the room. She rounded on the blonde and pulled her into another kiss. She didn’t notice her feet were moving, until her ass bumped into a table. She pushed up on her tiptoes and slid back onto the cool wood surface. Narcissa’s hands pushed open her legs and stepped in between them. She could feel the warmth of the blonde through the thin fabric of her dress. Hermione gripped the lapels of the blondes jacket and reconnected their lips.
“I must say you look good on my furniture, though I had imagined you bent over it,” the blonde gasped with a mischievous look in her eye.
“Well, it only seems fair to keep you on your toes as you have been full of surprises so far.”
The challenge and maybe a shade of vulnerability colored Narcissa’s tone.
“Oh yes,” Hermione beamed. “You have impeccable timing. You are beyond charming. You are a wonderful dancer. I’m not sure I knew what I was looking for before I met you, but I am crystal clear that I want you.”
Narcissa kissed her deeply, pressing their bodies tightly together.
“You have a silver tongue, Hermione Granger. I look forward to finding out what else you do with that clever mouth.”
Hermione took that as permission to map a path down the blonde’s neck as traced her fingers down to the button of Narcissa’s jacket. She released the button and immediately pushed her hands against the witch’s stomach. It was entirely bare to Hermione’s surprise. She shoved the rest of jacket off. She hugged Narcissa close to her body as an excuse to release the latches on the blonde’s lacy bra. She was unbelievably sexy in the lingerie, but Hermione wanted nothing between their skin.
“Oh Narcissa, you feel amazing,” she whispered. She palmed the soft skin of Narcissa’s breasts and massaged them gently.
The blonde’s eyes were closed and her head tilted back in bliss. Hermione took advantage of it and pinched her nippled. She relished the sharp in take of air and the fiery look in the blue eyes.
“You’ll have to forgive me,” Narcissa said undoing her belt and shoving her pants off. “I cannot wait to climb onto a soft bed with you, but I am going to have you here first.”
Hermione leaned forward and assisted her lover in shimmying her dress up around her stomach. Narcissa tugged down Hermione’s underwear, leaving her hissing as the cold wood under her heated skin.
Hermione perched on the edge and wrapped her legs around Narcissa keeping her close. She watched with rapt attention waiting for the witch to remove the final piece of clothing that mattered at the moment. A look of uncertainty crossed the beautiful face, which Hermione could not abide in.
“Fuck me, Narcissa,” she whispered.
She traced her fingers teasingly over tense stomach muscles enjoying them twitch under her touch. She paused as the edge of the lacy boxer briefs to look up into blue eyes.
“I don’t care if it’s magic or how you were born or how you wish to be. I want you just as you are, Narcissa Black. Please.”
Hermione hadn’t meant to beg, but between her long drought between lovers, the beautiful witch in front of her, and the Dragon’s Blood; she needed more deeply that she could ever remember.
“Oh, darling,” Narcissa purred, obviously having shaken off her nerves. “I think I know just what you need.”
Hermione flushed a deeper shade of red when slender hands covered her own and helped her in removing the last piece of fabric between them. She wanted to touch Narcissa, but her hands were batted playfully away. Before she could object, Narcissa’s fingers were tracing the juncture between her thighs with light touches. The blonde looked at her mischievously before placing those two fingers playfully in her own mouth and sucking. Hermione gasped at her moan of enjoyment.
“You taste divine, Hermione.”
Narcissa captured her lips in a deep kiss, letting the witch taste herself. She placed her fingers back at the younger witch’s entrance and slowly pushed them in. Hermione was practically vibrating around her fingers and so very wet. As Narcissa began building a rhythm, Hermione tore her lips away to take a deep breath.
“Is this what you were needing,” Narcissa cooed.
It was a tangled tone of affection and sarcasm, which made Hermione want to attempt to wrest control from the beautiful woman. But her need was certainly greater than her pride, so instead she said,
“It's a near thing. I had rather hoped to have something else in me, though your fingers feel amazing.”
She had intended to say more, but her thoughts were cut short when Narcissa changed the angle ripping a strangled moan from her lips.
“Oh yes, I can tell that you are not enjoying this as much as you could. And I am well aware of what you want, but you will find that I am not small . A little preparation now will mean you won’t walk quite as tenderly tomorrow.”
Hermione groaned at the implication that she would still be sore even with the foreplay.
The blonde added a third finger and pushed more insistently into her.
“My nickname sounds beautiful from your lips, particularly when you are so desperate for me. You are such a powerful and intelligent witch. It would be quite easy to become addicted to being able to do this to you.”
“Please, please let me come,” Hermione begged shamelessly. “I’ll be so good.”
“You most certainly will be good . But not yet, dear one. Take a deep breath for me. I am going to let you come, but I want to be all the way inside of you the first time you do.”
Narcissa slowed and gentled her fingers, easing back from the impending climax. Hermione dramatically dropped her head to the blonde’s shoulder as she attempted to calm down slightly.
“That was cruel,” she claimed between breaths.
“You won’t think so in a few moments, I promise.”
The blonde’s voice was like velvet and Hermione wanted nothing more than to drown in it.
“Be still,” Narcissa said quietly.
Hermione took a deep breath and used all of her willpower to not jolt forward at the feeling of the blond lightly touching her center with her cock. She could feel it easily sliding over her skin, as wet as she was. She wanted to beg for the witch to go faster, but couldn’t be still and get the words out. She sighed in relief when the head was finally finally poised at her entrance. Narcissa was putting just enough pressure that it was clear she could slip in at any moment.
“Hermione,” she groaned.
Hermione looked up into shimmering blue eyes. There was more emotion than she had expected to see, but she suspected that Narcissa could see the same in her eyes. There was in this pale candle light, in this intimate moment no denying that the connection between the was more than this glorious fuck.
Narcissa said nothing further, but pushed slowly inside of Hermione. Hermione kept the eye contact as much as she wanted to close them and throw her head back. She wanted to share her entire self with the blonde. The older witch had not been exaggerating about her size and Hermione couldn’t help the twitching of her hips at the pleasure of being good and truly filled. She knew the pleasure of being stretched beyond what she had previously known was written all over her face. She kept breathing deeply as Narcissa finally stilled her hips fully inside of her.
“Oh Merlin,” Hermione moaned as she felt herself tighten around Narcissa.
“Mm fuck. No, my name is Narcissa or Cissa if you please,” the blonde teased.
“Cissa, I will call you anything you want if you will just move.”
Hermione leaned forward to kiss her again and held tightly to her as Narcissa started moving her hips.
“You feel so good,” the blond punctuated each word with a firm stroke.
Hermione shuddered, but couldn’t answer instead wrapped her ankles more firmly behind the blonde’s back and helped pull their bodies together. The slight change in angle had her teetering on the edge of climax.
“Fuck. You are so close, I can feel it,” Narcissa gritted out. “Come, Hermione. Come for me.”
“Cissa,” she whimpered and clung more closely.
The witch was right. It would take very little else to send her over the edge. Narcissa sped her hips slightly, making sure each thrust hit. The climax washed over her and she couldn’t contain the moan at the pinnacle. She kept rocking as it started to trail off. She could tell that the blonde too was so very very close. She pulled Narcissa to her as the witch still rutted more desperately in her.
“Come in me, Narcissa,” Hermione demanded.
She heard the blonde’s breath catch and her thrusts got more erratic. Hermione tensed her muscles and ground her hips down. The blue eyes shot to her own and she had the privilege of watching the orgasm steal the clarity of her gaze.
Narcissa collapsed into her and Hermione held her tightly to her in the afterglow. They breathed in unison as the frantic need melted away.
“Well,” Narcissa broke the comfortable silence, “that was not a bad first try.”
Hermione playfully batted her shoulder in rebuke.
“Do you not think I can do better,” the blonde challenged.
“I think it would be very hard to top,” the younger witch answered honestly.
“I suppose I shall just have to educate you. Tell me, Hermione, how do you feel about being on all fours?”