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Remus wanted to breed Hermione Granger. He was obsessed and possessive, and he couldn’t stop thinking about her. They weren’t nice feelings, oh, no, no.
The wolf had chosen her.
Somehow Remus and Tonks had survived the war. They weren’t together anymore, but they were cordial and friendly and supportive. They raised Teddy together but lived separately.
The problem was Remus had gotten used to female companionship. He had gotten used to frequent shags. He missed having a woman warm his bed at night.
The night was dark and cold, and Remus was circling Hermione's London neighbourhood. Like a madman. Like an old, forgotten pervert.
She’s too young for you, he thought to himself. In his head, his voice was a growl.
At one point, he had thought Tonks was too young for him. And she was. Compared to her, Hermione Granger was a child … an infant.
But Hermione wasn’t a little girl. Not anymore. She was a powerful barrister in the Wizengamot. She influenced national politics. She was commanding and authoritative, and she flirted with Remus. She probably flirted with a lot of men.
Remus halted and squeezed his fists. He didn’t like thinking of Hermione with other men. The jealousy made him pant, his breath like smoke in the night air.
Then his feet moved again and he was striding toward her door. He forced all thought from his head. It wasn’t hard. It was so easy to let the wolf take over.
When he knocked, it only took her a few moments to answer the door. Like she had been waiting for him.
“Oh, hello,” she said politely, standing there in bare feet. There were red lines just before her toes from where her heels had cut into her flesh.
Let me in, Remus wanted to say. Instead he said, “I hope I’m not bothering you.”
Something of his internal thoughts must have shown on his face, because her brown eyes flashed.
“Not at all. Please come in.” She stepped aside, holding open the door.
“Thank you,” he growled.
Her London townhouse was expensive. The furniture was that chic combination of vintage and modern, and there was something decidedly Muggle about the whole thing.
Remus shuffled his feet. A werewolf had no business being around anything Muggle. It made him feel even more ancient, even more odd.
“Would you care for a drink?”
“Yes. Whisky.”
“Please have a seat. Can I take your cloak?”
He awkwardly shouldered out of his patchy cloak. It was both thrilling and humiliating to see her handle his things. Compared to the posh dress she wore, his cloak was utter rubbish.
Too late, he realised he had an erection. He sat down heavily in a plush chair and covered his groin with his hands.
When she returned with his whisky, she leaned close to hand it to him, and the scent of her made his mouth fill with saliva. “Thank you,” he said gruffly.
Hermione sat in the chair opposite him and sipped a white wine. Her dress was low cut, her breasts virtually spilling out. Remus gulped his whisky and stared.
“There’s nothing the matter, is there?” There was a touch of concern in her voice.
“No.”
“Oh, good. Were you in the area and just thought to pop by?”
“Yes.”
Hermione gazed at him steadily. “How is Teddy? And Tonks?”
“Good, all good. I spoke to Tonks just last weekend. She has Teddy this week.”
“So you are a free man.”
“Yes.” Remus gulped more of his whisky. He realised he was sweating.
“Are you all right?”
“Yes.” He gulped his drink. “No.”
She was still looking at him steadily. Something dark was in her expression.
“You want me,” Hermione said softly.
Remus dropped his tumbler and it shattered. He stood, embarrassed, hungry. He meant to apologise, clean up the shards, but the wolf propelled him forward. She had just enough time to set aside her wine before he was there, pulling her into his arms.
He meant to kiss her so softly, perhaps hold her close, but instead he ripped down the straps of her dress and took one of her brown nipples into his mouth.
“Oh,” she sighed.
He growled and worked her nipple with his tongue. Then his hand reached between her thighs and he shoved aside her knickers to sink his fingers into her hot cunt. She was already dripping wet.
Slow down, you fool, a voice said in his head.
“Oh, Remus,” she moaned.
She needed to understand.
Remus released her nipple and straightened up. As his fingers pumped in and out of her, he grabbed her throat roughly. “My control,” he said hoarsely.
“I want it.”
“You need to understand—the wolf.”
She stared him down even as his fingers tightened around her throat. “I said I want it.”
He yanked her close to growl, “I want to breed you.”
“Oh, God,” she moaned.
“I want to sink my cock into you, bare, no contraception. Then I want to fill you with my seed.”
“Do it.” It was a command. The wolf didn’t like that.
Growling again, he shoved her over the arm of the chair and ripped down her dress. He made quick work of his trousers and underpants, and his cock was desperately hard. Then he mounted her.
She cried out and pitched forward as if she meant to escape. No, he thought, and held her in place as she took every inch of his cock.
When he was all the way inside her, he forced himself to pause. “Yes?” he managed to say.
“Yes,” she breathed.
Then he fucked her. He went hard, so hard, and it was too much but he couldn’t hold himself back. His thrusts were brutal, their flesh smacking together, and his sad trousers slid down to pool around his ankles.
He fisted her dark curly hair and forced her head up. “You’re mine,” he growled in her ear.
“Oh, please!” she whimpered.
“Beg me to make you come.”
“Oh, please, oh, please!”
“Say my name while you do it.”
“Please, Professor Lupin. Please make me come, sir.”
Naughty bint, he thought darkly. Hermione Granger knew exactly what she was doing.
In retaliation, Remus reached down between her thighs. When he found her clit, he twisted it.
“Oh, God!”
“Hush,” Remus said, voice almost gentle. He was now grinding into her, his chest pressed to her back. He worked her clit in soothing flicks. “Do you like that?”
“Yes, sir.”
He stroked her more firmly. “Your cunt is fluttering so sweetly for me. Are you going to come?”
“Harder, sir. Please—harder.”
Groaning, he grabbed her throat again, using his hold as leverage. Then he picked up his pace, no longer grinding, but plunging his cock in and out so quickly it made him breathless. His back would hate him later for this, but first—first, he would breed her.
“Again, Miss Granger.” He rubbed her clit, not giving her a break from her mounting pleasure.
“Please!” she cried out. “Please, Professor Lupin!”
He pressed his mouth to her ear, muttering hotly: “Do you feel me so deep inside you? I’m thick, aren’t I? I’m thick and hard, and desperate. I’m going to fill you to the brim with my seed, and you’re going to take it. You’re going to take it and take it, then thank me. Because you want to have my baby, don’t you? You want me to own you.”
Hermione was shaking. She went so tight around him, her orgasm crashing through her with such an intensity that she was forced to her tiptoes. Her pleasure made her quiet, her eyes glazed over, her mouth so red, so vulnerable.
Her wet, clenching cunt pushed him over the edge, and Remus growled roughly as he came so deep inside her. In that moment, he wished he had a knot so he could make sure none of his seed slipped out of her. Instead he thrust one last time and went still. He pinned her to the chair with a palm on her back. They remained like that until Remus grew too soft and slipped out.
When Hermione turned around, Remus pulled her into a kiss. He claimed her with his mouth, his tongue stroking, tasting. She moaned weakly.
“Thank you,” he said, his embarrassment now returning.
She laughed softly. “I was wondering when you would finally do it.”
He smiled. “You were waiting for me?”
“Oh, yes, Remus. Do you think I flirt with just anybody?”
Growling, he pulled her closer, his hands squeezing her arse. “I want you again.”
“Let’s go to my bedroom.”
“This time—we can use contraceptives.”
“No.” She kissed him.