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Time was running out.
The thought was becoming a useless but insistent mantra, increasing in frequency and pressing in on her even now, despite the decadent, warm pleasure that cocooned her senses.
“No worries, love,” he murmured against her shoulder before lazily trailing his lips down her back.
In spite of herself, Hermione let out a blissful sigh, melting into another slow-swelling wave of arousal under his touch. A gasp and shiver followed the sensation of his tongue at the base of her spine. She smiled into her pillow – or rather, his pillow – and felt that familiar and inevitable surrender. She’d quickly learned over the past three weeks that there really wasn’t any point in resisting. Sirius seemed to have a knack for dissolving all of her tensions in the most divine ways. Surprisingly enough, he also seemed to have the uncanny ability to read those tensions, almost with the accuracy of a legilimens.
“He’ll come around,” he said, the roughness of his stubble-covered jaw tickling against her hip now. “But you know him – he doesn’t want to ‘taint’ you.”
“Seems a bit late for that,” Hermione mumbled, a wicked grin playing her lips as she felt his large, calloused hands sliding up the insides of her legs. Anticipation gathered into a core of heat and tension – a much more pleasant sort of ‘tension’ – thick and heavy in that most intimate place. Shifting slightly, she could already feel the wetness of her arousal. Merlin, the things this man did to her with a simple touch…
He didn’t have to tell her, but she loved to hear him say it, so she kept her thighs pressed together, falsely demure. “Open for me, sweetheart,” Sirius whispered finally.
With just those words and the slightest pressure of his hands, she was lost. Her legs slid over fine, burgundy sheets as she gave herself to his touch. Closing her eyes, she forced herself to breathe steadily as his fingers and mouth moved across her flesh with slow, agonizing grace. Weeks ago, she’d had zero patience for this lazy, deliberate sort of lovemaking Sirius often enjoyed. It had been a battle of wills at first, one that she never managed to win. Not that she counted that as a bad thing.
Sirius made a sound that was something between a hum and a groan as he reached her apex, his fingertips just brushing her outer folds. A muted whimper escaped her throat and she couldn’t help moving into his touch. He didn’t give any more than that though, but kept lightly stroking her with one hand while he moved back up to lie on his side next to her. Hermione watched as his grey gaze flickered over her features with a mix of tenderness and heat. His eyes crinkled at the corners briefly before meeting hers directly.
“Yeah, it might seem a bit late for that, but you know how Remus is,” he continued lightly, as if they were merely chatting at the kitchen table. All the while, he was softly and idly petting her like she was some kind of possession, like she belonged to him. It was such a simple gesture, yet so maddening. “That warped sense of honor of his can make him blind as a bat. And it doesn’t matter that you and I’ve already performed countless acts of ‘depravity and debauchery.’ He’d expect nothing less from me, but you’re like this innocent little lamb to him, just fallen under my spell. He was right pissed off at first, you know.”
He was torturing her with this casual, careless touch. She nearly bit through the flesh of her inner cheek when one of his fingers pressed between her folds and slid along her wetness. She didn’t cry out or give in, however. Instead, she swallowed hard and forced herself to play along, giving him what she hoped was an easy smile. “I’m hardly innocent here, Sirius. And he knows that – I know he does. He can smell just as well as you or I can. And I can smell him, too. It’s not as if he doesn’t want it.”
“Maybe he’s waiting until we’ve run the gamut of filth and perversity, then. That way, when he finally joins in it won’t be so much of a shock,” Sirius joked.
‘When he finally joins in…’ Not ‘if,’ but ‘when.’ It was definitely going to happen, and it was definitely going to involve all three of them at once. It had to. And it had to happen soon.
Time was running out…
Fenrir’s attack on her at the last full moon had been interrupted, thank God. Had he been able to go through with more than just the bite on her shoulder as he’d intended, he would have claimed her as his, mated by blood, sex, and a magic older and deeper than all of wizarding history. Hermione becoming “mated” to both Remus and Sirius instead was the only way to trump the mark Fenrir had left on her. And it was only by the grace of an unknown accident that this was even possible; the night she and Harry had helped Sirius escape the Dementors, Remus had bitten him while he was in dog-form, rendering him not quite fully a werewolf, but close enough to count as “pack.” The claim of a pack overruled that of a single alpha, and there was their solution.
Only, they were one week away from the next full moon and still missing a key component – Remus.
Hermione had to admit that the idea of being with two men at the same time had been a little intimidating at first. Hell, just the idea of sleeping with Sirius Black had been intimidating. But she realized it was the shift from fantasy to reality that was so nerve-wracking. Because it was a fantasy, one she’d kept to herself, buried deep and only looked at in privacy and on rare occasions. Now, however… Arousal warred with nerves every time she thought about it. So many questions came up, mainly about the logistics. What would be required of her to make this bonding process work? Would she need to have sex with both of them at the same time?
Sirius made a soft, purring noise and slid a second finger between her folds. Hermione gasped, her eyes fluttering briefly as he pushed those two digits into her.
“This whole thing really has you worked up, doesn’t it, pet?” he whispered as he began slowly finger-fucking her. “Love that look in your eyes when I know you’re thinking about it – about being fucked by both of us.”
Her insides curled in on themselves, clenching and unclenching in hunger and pleasure. This was all so wrong, and so good…
“It is a bit much though, hmm?” Sirius continued. He moved closer, and she could feel his erection pressing against her thigh. He didn’t stop, but added his fourth and fifth fingers into the equation, sliding them over her clit in rhythm with the two that were pumping her.
“Oh, God,” Hermione gasped, opening her legs wider, her hips undulating against him. And still he kept murmuring to her, his movements slow and steady as he fed her words and thoughts that seared her nerves.
“You know, Remus is a smart man – he was your professor, after all,” he reminded her, as if punctuating how wonderfully filthy this whole situation felt to her. Two men, both technically old enough to be her father, one a former teacher and the other her best friend’s godfather… The scandalous nature of it just added fuel to an already white-hot fire. “I bet he’s already thought it through, probably just waiting for us to show him you’re ready.”
With this last bit, Hermione felt Sirius’s thumb press against her in a wholly new place. Well, new as it related to her experiences with an actual lover. One didn’t fantasize about taking two men without experimenting on oneself, after all. Lubricated with her own arousal, his thumb slipped easily in once she pushed back at it.
“You’ve done this before,” Sirius said. A statement, not a question, but the tension in the way his hand now held her demanded a response.
“Not… with anyone,” Hermione replied softly, not meeting his gaze.
He leaned in and planted a tender kiss on her temple before getting to his knees behind her. Not removing his hand, but taking care not to hurt her, he slipped his other hand beneath her pelvis and urged her to kneel up, murmuring for her to keep her shoulders down. They’d already had plenty of sex with her on all fours, but this position – her arse in the air and her head pressed into the pillow – had her feeling more exposed than ever before. Her body convulsed involuntarily around Sirius’s fingers, and she blushed as she heard him chuckle behind her.
“You look so fucking gorgeous like this, pet,” he said. “And the way your pretty little cunt is begging at my fingers, I just want to slam my cock into you right now.”
Hermione bit her lip and squeezed her eyes shut as she felt her body react to his words. Yes, please… do it, she pleaded inwardly.
“Oh yes, I will,” Sirius reassured her. “But first I want to hear more about this.”
She gasped as he gently wriggled his thumb, pushing it a fraction farther into her arse before pulling back slightly. The movements were small, meant to tease, to do little more than remind her of the inevitable.
“You said ‘not with anyone,’ Hermione,” he said. “Then what did you use? Your fingers?”
A moan escaped her as he pushed back in, his ring finger stroking over her clit. But then he stopped, waiting for her answer. She’d already learned how “patient” Sirius could be when he wanted something from her. So, taking a deep breath, she summoned all the courage she could in such a situation.
“No,” she replied shakily. “I have a – a…” It seemed simultaneously ludicrous and dirty to her mind.
“A what, princess?” Sirius pressed, using his newly adopted nickname for her that sounded so condescending, reverent, and affectionate all at once.
“A toy,” she whispered.
“Ah.” He was completely unsurprised, naturally. Hermione was just thankful he didn’t laugh at her. But then he asked, “How big is it?”
Oh, god. “Not very,” she answered, thinking back to how mortified she’d been when she’d purchased the slender little vibrator at the “pleasure party” Ginny had thrown a couple of years back.
“Well, we’ll just have to work from there, then,” he said quietly. “Now…”
Sirius slowly pulled his fingers from her body, causing her to shiver both at the loss and at the anticipation of more. She wasn’t disappointed. Seconds later he moved in behind her, the rough hair on his thighs tickling the backs of her legs. The angle wasn’t right, however, so he reached underneath her, coaxing her into position. Once she was on all fours, he settled against her entrance while his hands cupped her breasts. Then, giving a sharp pinch to her nipples, he drove into her hard and deep, ripping a cry of pained pleasure from her throat.
Remus was a fool, but Sirius was definitely not complaining. Every day of the past three weeks had been a new adventure in peeling back the cover of Little Miss Bookends. And while Sirius normally didn’t have much of a problem with sharing, he was more than happy to have the brilliant witch to himself. Eventually, though, they were going to have to go through with this “bonding” business, and that meant Remus was going to have to step up and join in. Sirius had been hesitant to bring the subject up to Hermione right away; he’d figured it’d be better to ease her in to the idea, try not to freak her out too badly. Time was running out, however, and he could tell she’d been thinking about it more and more lately.
What he hadn’t been prepared for was her reaction when confronted with the idea head-on – the way her eyes had darkened to burnt chocolate, the way her body had melted into heat and sweetness, and now this. Just the thought of prim, uptight Hermione Granger frigging her arse with a “toy” was nearly enough to make him blow his load.
Ever full of surprises. That was Hermione. God, she really was gorgeous, even from this vantage.
Sirius straightened, gliding his hands over the soft flesh of her stomach, up and around to her back. Her whole body was wound tighter than Diana’s bow-string and her breath was ragged and uneven, but she remained still. For a split moment, he had a doubt – they’d only recently discovered that she liked being fucked hard and rough. But he would never want to really hurt her. Then again, Hermione Granger would never let a man really hurt her, not if she could help it. Sure as hell not now, after that sick fuck had bitten her. Sirius still had a bruise on his right leg that proved that point, and they’d only been wrestling in the parlour when he’d earned it.
No, if she was in pain, she wouldn’t still be there, cat-like on all fours, her honey-brown curls falling every which way over her shoulders. And the way her tight little pussy was rippling around his cock… He felt an unexpected warmth in his chest as he suddenly realized: she was waiting for him.
“There’s my good girl,” Sirius murmured, stroking a hand down her back before grasping the luscious flare of her hip. He knew it would outrage her and simultaneously turn her on to be spoken to in such a way, but he could distract her with enough pleasure that she’d forget to say anything about it. Remus really was a fool – Hermione had a bit of a submissive streak in the bedroom that would have suited his old friend’s darker tastes. But Sirius had no intention of giving her up now.
Still… An idea began to form in his mind. A wicked, irresistibly perverted idea.
With his other hand, he reached around to her pelvis, threading his fingers through the neatly trimmed curls leading to where their bodies were joined. He pressed his middle finger against that sweetly sensitive button and held it there, silently daring her to squirm. “Oh, princess,” he said, slowly dragging almost all the way out of her tight passage before plunging back in. “The things we’re going to do.”
A shudder rippled through her entire body and a harsh moan rolled out from her throat, raw, primal, and honest. He pulled back out and slid back in, slow and deep, growling softly in pleasure as she arched her back in response. Again and again he did this, fucking her so deliberately it was damned near torture for him as well as her. But he had plans for his little closet deviant, and they couldn’t be rushed.
“Sirius, please,” Hermione finally whinged in frustration. Her voice was rough with need, her hands were fisted tightly in the bedclothes, and a fine sheen of sweat had formed across her back. They were close – so close. But he wanted her frenzied and begging, bargaining for her satisfaction.
Just then, out of the corner of his eye, Sirius thought he saw a movement. He turned his head slightly and noticed the bedroom door was cracked, but no one appeared to be there. Then again, Disillusionment charms were a given. Turning back to Hermione, he smirked as he caught a whiff of a familiar male scent.
Time for a change of plans.
“Tell me something then,” Sirius drawled, smoothing his hands over the soft globes of her arse and spreading them slightly with his thumbs. He tilted his head in admiration. The sight of her wet cunt stretched around him was so sensual it made his cock lurch against that tight, velvety passage. He groaned silently as her body answered in kind with a hard, involuntary twitch. Bloody witch would be the death of him, he swore. And there just above where they were joined, puckered and waiting, was the next delightful hurdle in their adventures. All he had to do was brush the tip of one thumb over that opening and Hermione jerked and gasped. He hoped like hell Remus was watching and kicking himself.
Sirius gave her another long, slow stroke before continuing. “Were there any other ‘toys’ involved?” He sucked his index finger, coating it with saliva, before teasing it against that little rosebud.
“Wha-I…” Hermione squeaked and whimpered, and finally sighed as his finger gained entrance.
“Tell me, Hermione,” he demanded. “You weren’t just fucking yourself in the arse, were you?” He pulled himself nearly all the way out and lingered there, waiting.
“No,” she panted, “I-I wasn’t. Please…”
An image so perverse and so fucking hot burned itself in Sirius’s mind, and he found himself suddenly grappling for some thread of self-control. He squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath. Then, hissing out an exhale, he sank back into her warmth, pressing his finger deeper into her at the same time. He grinned in satisfaction at the guttural sound that came from his witch in response.
“And is this what you thought about when you were playing, pet? Being filled in both holes at the same time?” He asked gently. He wanted her truth now, not their usual banter. “Is this what you’ve been thinking about for the past three weeks?”
Her shoulders slumped and she exhaled, letting her head drop in resignation. “God, yes,” she answered, her voice thick with relief and need.
Gently removing his finger, Sirius leaned over her and wrapped an arm around her middle, nuzzling the damp skin between her shoulder blades. “You’re amazing, Hermione,” he rasped as he began moving inside her at a more tolerable pace. The time for teasing was over. “You’re so fucking sexy, princess. So beautiful. C’mon and come for me, baby.”
With his cock still buried inside of her, Sirius held Hermione by the waist and guided her hands to the headboard of his bed. The change in angle caused him to hit a spot inside of her that made her see stars. She had to have screamed or something, because he pulled back and slowly dragged himself across that spot again, tweaking her nipples as he did so and murmuring some filthy sweet nothing into her ear. She didn’t care. She just needed more.
And then he was really fucking her, finally – he’d abandoned the slow but blissful torture of his previous pace and was now driving her to a dizzying climax faster than she could process. He didn’t stop there, either, but slammed through her orgasm with that raw, reckless abandon that reminded her of wild animals and dark magic. She tried to relax into the hard, almost violent thrusts, but Sirius was having none of that. Clamping one hand on top of hers against the headboard, he reached down between her legs.
“You’re not done yet, princess,” he gritted against her ear. “I want you to show our little audience just how ready you are.”
He wasn’t making any sense, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered were those wickedly talented fingers of his as they pressed against her. Hermione grinned through the sharp hum of pleasure in her lower body. That was one of the first things he’d made her show him – how she liked best to be touched there. Everyone was different, after all. The sharp, frantic, back-forth rhythm of their fucking against the solid pressure of his hand on her clit was more than enough to push her right back over the edge again.
“So goddamned beautiful,” Sirius growled into her hair. “Fuck…” His body went rigid and she felt a sharp pain in her shoulder where he’d sunk his teeth, bellowing against her broken flesh as he came.
“Argh – the fuck?!” he barked as her elbow came in contact with his ribs.
“I think I’m bleeding, you arse!” Hermione snapped.
“What – shit, I’m sorry,” Sirius muttered, quickly untangling himself from the mess of limbs and bedclothes that had resulted from their descent. He reached across Hermione for his wand on the bedside table and muttered a quick healing charm on the small, red cut that marred her shoulder. A frisson of guilt swept through him as he remembered something, but he pushed the thought away – nothing to be done for it now, and no point worrying in the meantime.
“There,” he murmured, and kissed the spot that was still fading from red to pink. “All better, love. I’m sorry – got a bit carried away, I suppose. All right?” he asked, pulling her into his arms as he settled back into bed.
Hermione hummed lazily as she curled up against him and threw a leg over his. After a moment, she said, “I’m glad we had this talk.”
Chuckling softly into that cloud of unruly curls, Sirius kissed the top of her head and pulled her even closer. “I agree. I really feel like we’ve cleared a lot of things up,” he said with mock seriousness.
He had just begun to relax into the drug-like wave of sleep pulling at him, when she popped her head up again. “What was that you said before about ‘our little audience’?” she asked.
The question brought Sirius back to his senses with everything he’d learned that evening. He glanced toward the door that was now curiously shut. Turning back to Hermione, he grinned. “I’ve got an idea.”
“Too tight?” Sirius asked, giving the silk a hard tug.
Hermione’s eyes glittered as she shook her head in response, her lips curving slightly at the corners.
Oh, sweetheart, he thought, if you only knew what you were getting into… He’d told her about Remus watching them, and he’d promised her he would make this happen, not only because her life might depend on it, but because he wanted to help her experience this fantasy firsthand. He just hadn’t divulged any of the details, including the time or place. As far as Hermione knew, they were just trying something new – a little bondage play between the two of them. And they were, to be certain. He had every intention of sampling her in this environment before putting his plan into action.
Moving down her body, Sirius paused to pay homage to one of the most perfect pair of breasts he’d ever had the pleasure of worshiping. He grinned when she jerked against her bindings, then let out a shaky sigh. He looked up just in time to see that moment of comprehension flicker in her eyes before they glazed with lust. It was the moment of understanding, where one’s helplessness sinks in and they realize their body is at the mercy of their captor. He couldn’t fight the temptation to linger just a bit over those rosy peaks, teasing and torturing her with the sharp little nips he knew drove her mad. But it was the particular way she writhed and squeezed her legs together that brought him to his senses.
“Ah-ah, princess,” he said, grasping her hips to still her. “Remember what I said – your job here is to simply feel.”
“I - ”
“Yes?” he asked, giving her a look that dared her to say the wrong thing. She blushed and looked away, silent.
Sirius smirked and moved lower. Either way, he’d have her gagged soon enough. He summoned the cushioned wedge he’d purchased earlier that day and moved her into position. “Lift your hips, sweetheart,” he commanded softly, and slid it into place.
“Oh,” Hermione breathed, her eyes widening.
Yes, ‘Oh.’ The prop was a Muggle invention – all the better, in Sirius’s opinion – and with her knees slightly bent, it left her quite deliciously exposed and accessible in every way. He hummed in appreciation and ran a hand over her mound, spreading her lips briefly to admire the moisture that was already glistening there. It took everything he had not to dive into her right then. Instead, he indulged himself by quickly skimming his mouth across her heat, deeply inhaling her musk before leaving a soft bite on her inner thigh. He chuckled at the way her leg muscles twitched, her toes curling into the sheets in an effort to keep still.
“You’re getting better at this, pet,” he murmured as he began tying another strip of silk around her ankle. “Perhaps I need to try harder.”
“Whatever you wish,” Hermione answered softly in a nearly perfect tone of submission.
Sirius couldn’t contain his laughter. There was a world of difference between “play” submission and what was going to be pulled from her over the course of the evening. He’d let it go for now, though.
Once her legs were secured to the lower bedposts, he stood before her and admired his work. She looked truly glorious spread out before him like that, her curls a wild halo around her flushed face, her lips moist and swollen. He was sure she’d been biting them in an effort to contain herself, and now they seemed to beg for his cock. Not yet, however. Tilting his head in mock-consideration, Sirius said, “Something’s missing.”
There were several ‘somethings,’ actually, but for now he summoned one more item from his shopping excursion and climbed back onto the bed between her legs.
Hermione was so turned on, she suspected she’d be soon causing a damp patch on the fabric-covered wedge Sirius had positioned under her hips. She had very little leeway to move around; if she straightened her legs a bit, she’d gain a bit of slack there, but the wedge didn’t allow her to do that comfortably. And her arms were pulled out as far as they would go without being too tight, attached by long silken cords to the upper posts of Sirius’s mammoth bed. In short, she was helpless.
She’d truly come to trust Sirius almost implicitly, however, so that even the jumble of nerves in her belly served to feed her arousal. Whatever he planned to do to her, he would never hurt her or take her somewhere she didn’t really like. She still worried about the situation with Remus, but at the moment it was the farthest thing from her mind.
“Know what this is, princess?” he asked, drawing her attention to where he was crouched between her legs.
Her mouth went dry when she saw the item he held up. Slender, arrow-shaped, with a wide flare at the base, it gleamed darkly in his hand. Why she was still mortified by something that brought her such pleasure was beyond her, but she could feel a deep, red blush creep over her face.
“Well?” Sirius demanded.
Hermione swallowed hard and nodded.
“Then you know what I’m going to do to you,” he said, now sliding the smooth, shiny plug between her folds.
She expected it to be cool to the touch, but it was surprisingly warm. She gasped and squirmed impotently as he slowly pushed it into her pussy, paying her a few shallow strokes before sliding it back out again. A faint prickling of magic brushed over bottom and she felt something akin to heated silk coat her insides. Then he was there, gently nudging the blunt tip against her arse.
Oh, God, this is really happening, Hermione thought feverishly, because she knew without a doubt what he was going to do to her after this, which in turn made her think of what brought them to this point originally, which was the inevitable ‘mating’ with both Remus and Sirius at the same time...
“Push, sweetheart,” he commanded gently.
It slid in easily – it was quite narrow, after all. The shape was unexpected, however, and it took a moment to adjust to the sensation of something being ‘secured’ in that part of her body. Then, just as she was getting used to it, Sirius uttered something unintelligible and the thing swelled – not enough to cause any real discomfort, but certainly enough to startle her.
“Too much?”
“No,” Hermione gasped.
“More?”
She hesitated, then shook her head. “Not yet.”
The smile he gave her as he set his wand to the side filled her with a strange kind of warmth. It was simultaneously wicked and tender, and made any thoughts or feelings of embarrassment dissolve at once. “Do you have any idea how utterly sexy you look right now, princess?” he asked, sliding his fingers between her slick folds. “Can’t wait to fuck this gorgeous cunt while you’re all filled up like this.”
He spread her open and she briefly felt the air cool against her wetness before he pressed his mouth ever so softly to her. His lips and tongue barely fluttered over that desperate bundle of nerves like some kind of mockery of a kiss. She tried to lift her hips, to gain a little more pressure, but her restraints made it impossible. Giving them a frustrated jerk, she whimpered, “Sirius, please - I need more.”
He hummed against her clit, which sent a dizzying but short-lived vibration through her nerves. “You’ll get more, pet,” he reassured her even as he pulled away. “In time,” he added with a smirk.
The angry snarl she gave was all the excuse Sirius needed. With a snap of his fingers, the thick roll of fabric he’d prepared appeared in his hand. He didn’t care for the look of the ball gags he’d seen at the sex shop, and he was sure this would do nicely instead.
“What are you--”
“Rules are rules, princess,” he said gleefully.
“What rules?” she demanded against the cloth he was now pressing between her lips.
“Open up,” he instructed, and pushed the gag past her teeth before reaching around her head to tie a simple knot. “Your tone is hardly what I’d call submissive, love. You’ll get what you ‘need,’ when I decide to give it to you. Now, is that too tight?”
She looked at him like he’d gone mad, so he waited patiently. Sure enough, her eyes took on a moment’s consideration, and then she slowly shook her head.
“Don’t worry, pet – I promise you’ll enjoy this. Have I ever let you down?”
Hermione grunted and shook her head again, albeit grudgingly.
“Of course not,” he agreed, and kissed her on the forehead. “There are a couple more things though, if you think you’re up for it, of course.”
A defiant glare and a snort was her reply.
“Brilliant,” Sirius said with a grin, and summoned a black velvet blindfold, charmed to be impenetrable. He noticed the look of hesitation in Hermione’s eyes and paused. “Trust me?”
Slowly she nodded, and he felt an arrow of heat jolt to his groin as the last part of his plan fell into place. It was ironic, really, that it took ‘restraining’ her, when she was far more than willing. But he knew his friend all too well, and with five days left till the full moon, it was time to make this happen, even if it meant playing on Remus’s tastes to the extreme.
“I promise you, love,” Sirius whispered earnestly into Hermione’s ear, “this is going to be worth it in ways you can’t begin to imagine. If it really gets to be too much, your wand is within summoning distance.”
Her whole body relaxed with this last statement, and Sirius felt his heart give a slight tug. The past month had shown him what an amazing woman Hermione Granger had become, yet sometimes he was still reminded of the brave young Gryffindor with so much to prove to the world. Either way, she was incredible. And it wasn’t just about the sex, either. The fact that she’d been bitten by a werewolf was hard enough for anyone to handle. But to be marked as she’d been, and then confronted with such an unlikely and shocking solution… He’d fully expected her to approach the situation like – well, like Hermione Granger the prim little know-it-all. He’d envisioned her coming to bed with a stoic and resigned coolness, clinically accepting her fate, and carefully planning everything out. Instead, she’d blossomed right in front of him like some kind of exotic flower. He really wasn’t sure he was going to be able to give this up.
She squirmed against him, jolting him out of his thoughts. He didn’t have a choice, he reminded himself. She never agreed to be ‘his,’ and even if she ever did, her life depended on this bond, on being mated to both him and Remus. Pack. Spurred into motion by that reminder, Sirius sat up. He knew the next part might come off as a bit ridiculous, but he also knew Remus’s weaknesses, especially as the full moon approached.
“You know, princess,” he began lazily, “now that I have you at my mercy, there’s something I’ve been dying to do. If you’ll indulge my taste buds, of course.”
He grinned affectionately at the little wrinkle of confusion that formed between her brows. It was a legitimate point, really – she’d never let him do something this messy to her if she had a choice in the matter. Especially with something so expensive. One final package was summoned from the bags in the corner, small and fancifully wrapped in gold and black. He uncapped the jar and took a deep whiff, smiling with satisfaction.
Well, Hermione did have a point, Sirius thought some thirty minutes later as he siphoned the chocolate concoction from his body with his wand. She was still covered, of course – a moaning, writhing, decadent mess on his bed. He sighed. Now was as good a time as any, really…
“Damn,” he muttered suddenly. “There’s something I’ve forgotten. Just stay quiet for a few – I’ll be right back. Promise.” He leaned over and brushed the damp curls from her forehead before kissing her cheek.
Then, grabbing a pair of jeans, he slipped out into the hallway, got dressed, and trotted down to where he knew Remus was working in the library. He gritted his teeth and took a deep, calming breath before pushing through the French doors. He would be there the whole time, he reminded himself. It had to be both of them, after all. He just had to actually get Remus there.
“Moony?” he softly called out to the shadows. The lamp on the desk was lit, and Remus’s jacket was draped over the chair, but his friend was absent. He was just about to go searching for him when he heard footfalls on the stairs. A moment later, Remus entered with a steaming mug of what was likely hot cocoa, his sandy-brown hair disheveled and a tense look on his face.
“There you are,” Sirius greeted him. “Hermione wants a word with you.”
Remus raised an eyebrow. “Where is she?”
“Upstairs,” Sirius answered.
“She couldn’t come see me herself?”
Sirius rolled his eyes. Fucking Moony. Can’t make this simple, can he? No, never. Bloody voice of reason, all the damned time… “Look, can you just go talk to her, please?” he snapped impatiently.
Remus looked at him for a long moment before setting his cup down on the desk and nodding. Sirius fell back against the door to the library and exhaled, raising his eyes to the ceiling. He waited a solid three minutes before returning to his room.
Hermione’s attention snapped to the doorway as the heard the approaching footsteps. She jerked against her bindings and arched her back in spite of herself. She knew it would do no good, but it was at least something. The chocolate on her skin was beginning to dry and tighten – especially maddening on places like her nipples, which Sirius had treated with a particularly thick coating.
The floorboard just inside the bedroom doorway creaked, but he said nothing. In fact, he wasn’t coming any closer. She froze, listening for any clue as to what he would do next, but all she heard was the uneven rasp of an inhale. Then, taking a deep breath herself, she smelled him - Remus.
Oh God… Oh damn… Oh help… Hermione’s mind was a jumble of heat and panic, and yet her body remained calm, listening, waiting. With every breath, she was able to smell his reactions, almost his very thoughts – shock, his own panic, anger, resignation, and beneath all of that, a constant, thick vein of desire, feral and hungry.
A shudder swept through her body as she heard him finally move into the room. The faint whisper of fabric – one of his button-down work shirts, no doubt – tiny sounds that ended in the unmistakable flutter of its removal.
He was standing at the foot of the bed now, and she could practically feel his gaze. Her body betrayed her as she felt a trickle of wetness seep from her sex. She couldn’t help but think of how she must look to him – bound and gagged, spread-eagle with her hips raised like some kind of perverse, chocolate-covered offering…
Wait. That was it!
As if in response, she heard a second pair of footfalls coming up the stairs, into the room. Sirius. Neither man spoke, however, and she was lost in the dark. Especially now that their smells were mixing as they moved around her. She gave a little moan and tried to shift her body, but she was quickly shushed. That, she was certain, was Sirius. He gathered her hair and swept it off her neck and face before kissing her tenderly on the forehead again, yet still he didn’t speak.
Hands, warm and rough, grasped her ankles, smoothed up her calves to her knees and behind her thighs. At the same time, Sirius slid his arm under her neck to hold her while he traced his fingers lightly over her stomach.
Hermione was certain she’d begin hyperventilating any second now. Why weren’t either of them talking? But then suddenly oh, God, Remus’s tongue was on her inner thigh, and at the same time, Sirius began laving and suckling and nibbling at the chocolate coating her nipples.
A soft, ragged groan came from between her legs, and Hermione blushed furiously with the realization of just how close Remus was to her sex, and how she was dripping with arousal right in front of his face, how that engorged plug was still rammed up her arse and oh bloody hell he was nibbling away at the trails Sirius had painted over her body earlier. Trails that lead straight to…
The bed shifted as he suddenly pulled away, and Hermione wanted to cry in frustration. She did whinge against that awful gag, in fact.
Remus finally spoke. “Remove them,” he said, his voice harsh and commanding. For a strange and frantic moment, Hermione thought he was referring to everything – blindfold, gag, bindings, the plug – and she wasn’t certain she could face what was going to happen on her own. But evidently he only meant the first two. Sirius stayed by her side, one arm holding her for comfort as he peeled away the blindfold and unknotted the gag.
“Remember our rules, princess,” he murmured in her ear.
“Look at me, Hermione,” Remus growled, and her eyes snapped to the man standing at the foot of the bed.
She swallowed hard. She’d never seen him like this before. Hell, she didn’t think she’d ever even seen him shirtless before! He had a naturally lean sort of musculature that reminded her of a dancer, whereas Sirius had that chiseled look that came only from concentrated effort and self-care. Pale and scarred and graceful and very definitely male, she thought suddenly, as her eyes followed the faint trail of light brown hair down his stomach to his trousers where an extremely impressive bulge tented the material.
“Hermione,” he repeated, an edge of amusement in his voice now. Her gaze shot back up to his, and she blushed.
“Sorry,” she whispered hoarsely. She heard Sirius curse softly, and a second later a glass was held to her lips, trickling ice cold water over her tongue.
“Fenrir’s dead.”
The words may as well have been the contents of the glass Sirius had summoned, shattering and shocking them all into a frozen sort of tension. The arm holding her shoulders tightened, and Remus looked away.
“They caught up with him last night and he wouldn’t go down without a fight to the death. So all this…” He waved awkwardly around the room and cleared his throat. “I’m sorry – but I couldn’t, in good conscience, let this continue without telling you.”
“Oh. Of course,” she replied tightly, mortification seeping in and leaving her cold.
“Stop this,” Sirius growled suddenly. “And bollocks to your ‘good conscience,’ Moony. Or are you so honourable that you’d choose to shame her over your own desire?”
“Let me go,” Hermione whispered fiercely. She didn’t want this, didn’t want to remain sprawled on display like this while Sirius and Remus had some damned moral debate. When neither of them responded, she remembered Sirius’s earlier words and Accio’ed her wand, quickly untying her wrists in a matter of seconds. Unfortunately, both wizards reacted before she could even think about her legs or that damnable plug still lodged in her bottom.
“No,” Sirius barked, looping his arms around hers so she couldn’t move, and tossing her wand aside. “I’m sorry, princess, but he’s going to fucking fix this. I promised I’d give this to you, and if he’s too much of a nancy boy to deliver what you clearly both want, I’ll not have you bearing some kind of bullshit shame for it.”
Remus gave a weary sigh. “Don’t be so dramatic. I didn’t say I couldn’t let this continue, Padfoot. I said I couldn’t let it continue without telling her.” He gave Hermione that wry, knowing smile she’d always wished meant more than it did. Only, apparently it did mean more. “If you want this, Hermione, I can’t deny you. And there is something to be said for Pack bonding, after all. But if we do this, it’s out of want, not duty. Although, somehow I doubt Sirius is willing to let this be more than a one-time experience.”
Hermione frowned at this and looked up at Sirius, who suddenly seemed unable to meet her gaze. “Remus is right,” he whispered miserably after a long silence. “I want you to be happy, princess, but after this, I don’t think I can share you. I’m sorry.”
Did he just say what she thought he said? “The” Sirius Black? All of a sudden, the whole situation seemed too ludicrous for Hermione. She was still half-covered in chocolate, naked, arse in the air and legs spread wide while two gorgeous wizards twice her age discussed just what they were going to do with her.
“Sirius,” she said, fighting down the bubble of hysterical laughter that was threatening to break loose. “Untie me, please.”
He couldn’t help but look at her now, his steel grey eyes uncertain. “And then - ?”
“And then I want to be fucked by you and Remus until I can’t think properly.”
Grey turned to charcoal and his voice sounded like bourbon and caramel. “And then…?”
“And then I want you to make love to me until we’re sick of each other?” she proposed softly.
“I’m not sure that’s ever going to happen, princess,” he warned.
“All the more reason to try,” she replied, melting into his arms as she felt the mattress dip and Remus released her ankles from their bindings.