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Cooking Lessons

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Hermione gasped at the cool countertop at her lower back when Narcissa backed her into it. The soft hands at her back had cleverly slid the fabric up in their quest to touch as much of her skin as possible. Hermione attempted to swallow a moan at Narcissa’s teeth in her neck but wasn’t entirely successful. 

“Shh, darling. Now you know that we must be rather quiet. I’m meant to be teaching you to cook. While I don’t expect anyone to show interest, the possibility is there, is it not?” 

Hermione attempted to draw in deep breaths to calm her body enough to talk. The lips continuing to trace down towards her collarbones were not helping in the slightest. 

“Don’t even think of starting the sentence that is running through your head, little witch. We both know that you love the thrill of getting caught even more than I do. Are you next going to try to deny that if I slip my hands in your pants that you won’t be drenched for me?”

Hermione hung her head to keep from groaning. As usual, the blonde witch knew precisely how to push each and every button she had. She was planning on answering the woman, but as threatened, fingers slipped just under the waistband of her pants. She felt the clasp give way and clutched the counter behind her. She was entirely certain that if Narcissa touched her as she was threatening to, that it would be the only way she would remain upright. 

“What do you think I will find, love?” 

Hermione let out a stuttered breath. 

“You do need to be a good girl and answer me,” Narcissa mumbled against her skin. 

Fuck,” Hermione whimpered. 

The dark chuckle in reaction zipped through Hermione’s body, leaving her feeling like a live wire. 

“Not just yet, Hermione. But if you play your cards right, I just might.” 

Hermione felt her entire body tremble just at the implication. She steeled her Gryffindor courage and looked into the pale blue eyes looking at her intently. 

“I’m going to be wet for you.”

She kiss she got in reward for the confession was enough for her to lose her balance, even if a cool hand wasn’t now cupping her center. 

“Oh, love. You’ve soaked through these lovely knickers. They are quite useless at this point.”

Hermione only had a moment to register the smirk before the fabric disappeared from her skin, and only Narcissa’s hand remained. She shook with desperation but kept her mouth resolutely closed. She didn’t want the game to end yet. She knew that the blonde would simply take her upstairs when she did finally break under the onslaught of pleasurable torture, but Hermione didn’t want to just yet.  She hadn’t always enjoyed such an extreme form of foreplay, but with Narcissa, she simply couldn’t get enough. She would willingly enter into situations where she knew that the blonde would delight in edging her—scenarios, not unlike this cooking lesson

Hermione hoped against hope that Narcissa would push just a little too hard and send her flying over the edge. At least then Hermione would have a victory to her name. The blonde witch won all too often for her tastes.

“Oh Hermione, but when do I ever make such a mistake,” the blonde whispered in her head. 

If any other partner had ever taken such a liberty with her mind, Hermione would have happily hexed them into the next year. But Narcissa’s natural legilimency was seductive and soft. And after all, they shared, it was as intimate and validating as anything else they did together. 

“Never,” Hermione gasped. A lone finger very slowly and nearly too firmly circled her clit. She wanted to double over in pleasure or react in any way, but Narcissa’s body position didn’t give her anywhere to move like she needed to. 

“You are my clever girl,” Narcissa whispered into her ear. 

It was almost almost enough pressure, but at the last second, the blonde withdrew her hand. Hermione sagged into her. She would have perhaps been upset if the blonde’s arms hadn’t immediately encircled her. The warm, steady embrace helped her come back down to earth. When she was no longer just ache and need, she turned her head to kiss Narcissa’s neck gently. 

“You are perfect,” Narcissa whispered. 

“Hardly,” Hermione snorted. 

The blonde leaned back enough to raise her eyebrow. This time Hermione laughed, which in turn made Narcissa smile. 

“Come along, Hermione. There is flour that needs to be sifted. I will need to monitor you to make sure that you focus on the task at hand, not on other matters.” 

Hermione was annoyed with her own reactive shudder through her body. It was annoying (and so very hot) when Narcissa spoke down to her. It made her want to melt and be combative at the exact same moment. But such was the complexity of their dynamic. It was ever-shifting with the wind, but Hermione had never known such a depth of satisfaction as she had with Narcissa. At first, she had assumed it would be a one-time sort of magic, but it seemed that the depth of it only increased each time they were together. And more than that, it bled all over their other interactions. Hermione found Narcissa so engaging and interesting that she could hardly stand to be away from her. 

Shaking herself from her thoughts when Narcissa released her, Hermione walked on unsteady legs over to the flour and carefully measured and began sifting manually. She knew that there was likely a spell that she could use, but sometimes she found comfort in doing things the muggle way. She knew that the sound of the ingredients softly hitting against the metal bowl would allow her to resettle so that the game could continue. 

“Very good, Hermione. Now please combine the wet ingredients.”

If Hermione wasn’t mistaken, the blonde witch had put a little more emphasis on the word wet than was entirely required. Nevertheless, she summoned the bowl and whisk to her open hands. She started summoning her magic and making the whisk move on its own. She jumped slightly when arms wrapped around her from behind. 

“You are a swot, Hermione Granger.” 

Narcissa’s gentle teasing had a more significant effect on her arousal than she would have liked to admit. She shuddered but did not stop her work. She added butter and watched as the air was worked into it. When it looked sufficiently peaked, she added in the sugar.

“I just listen when you talk, Narcissa. If you weren’t aware, I fancy you.” 

Hermione smiled at the laugh from her companion. 

“Do you, indeed? I never would have guessed,” Narcissa said, clearly amused. 

Hermione considered it a minor win to get Narcissa so silly and so relaxed. The blonde knew full well that she more than fancied the beautiful witch. It wasn’t as though you discovered your magical soulmate every day. 

She and Narcissa had found each other entirely by accident in the months that followed the war. Neither one of them had even remotely been looking for romance, but theirs was a connection that couldn’t be denied. So instead of fighting it, they had leaned fully into it. As a result, they were rarely apart. At first, it had been hard to explain to the people in their lives. It was no doubt nearly impossible for any of them to imagine the kind of force that compelled them to remain so close nearly all of the time. But those awkward early days were well behind them. If either of them were ever alone outside of working hours, they got stares and sometimes questions from those in their circle.

Fuck,” Narcissa panted in her ear. “What are you thinking of? Your magic is practically consuming me.” 

Hermione thought about reigning in her magic but decided against it. After all, the blonde deserved to suffer just a little for the stunt earlier. Narcissa knew that she had a serious thing for being pushed up against objects and fucked. That she had done one without the other was practically a crime. 

“I just slowly add the dry ingredients now, don’t I?” 

Hermione did her level best to keep her pleasure at herself out of her voice. She knew she had failed at the press of Narcissa’s magic that had her bending over the counter and narrowly missing the bowl that was still stirring. 

“There are much nicer ways to ask, Hermione,” Narcissa said through gritted teeth. 

With a whispered word, Hermione’s pants were gone and her skin exposed to the slightly cool air. She pressed back against Narcissa with any luck; she might get the fabric of the witch’s clothing wet. If she got some friction in return, well, that would be a bonus. 

Hermione moaned freely as Narcissa’s hand skated over her ass and between her legs. She shook as fingers traced lightly through her wetness. Narcissa knew exactly how much pressure to use to make her entirely crazy. The blonde had scarcely put her fingers at her entrance between two were pushed steadily inside her. Hermione dramatically laid her head on the countertop. She didn’t mind for one moment that it only opened her up to Narcissa’s insistent fingers. 

She nearly came when Narcissa leaned over her, knitting their bodies back together. There was little that Hermione loved more. She clenched her stomach muscles and begged her body to obey. She was so close to aging goaded the blonde into demanding a climax before she intended to, and Hermione desperately needed the win. But that required that Narcissa grant her permission to climax. And while the blonde might be close to doing so, it was never a good idea to attempt to control the timeline. At least not when Hermione was bent over something and trembling with pleasure. 

“Don’t you think I know what you’re doing, darling?”

Narcissa’s question was dark and seductive. Hermione wanted to answer and spill everything secret she ever had, but she just managed to hold her tongue. She let the pleasure of her lover inside of her take over every part of her mind. She knew that Narcissa would float her just at the precipice as long as she liked. And Hermione was content to absorb every ounce of pleasure. 

As if from a faraway source, Hermione heard the command to come. She would never have believed that her body was capable of such a thing, but everything about her relationship with Narcissa defied logic. Her body let go at the words, and she was swept away in pleasure. 

When she finally managed to push herself up from the counter and turned to look at her blonde lover, Narcissa was coyly licking her fingers clean and looking rather pleased with herself. 

Hermione felt shyness wash over her, as it occasionally did with her bold lover. 

“I guess I should clean up this mess,” she said, looking around the somewhat destroyed kitchen. It was clear that she had lost control of her magic during their little game. 

Narcissa smiled broadly.

“Leave it, darling. I have quite the mess for you to sort out. Come along.” 

Hermione watched her beautiful love sweep out of the room, enjoying everything about the woman before she followed her towards their bedroom.