Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Savage Seduction	By : mad4moony Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Fenrir Views: 30148 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and I do not make money from this. :(

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
Note: Aww mush. I’m sorry. I have to get this out of my system. It’s so cuttttteeeeee!!!! Also, this is a short chapter, but I just think it should end where it does here.

Note: For all you guys too squeamish for menstrual blood, GROW UP. It’s a fact of life!!! *Adding this at a later date because of what happened today* Today some guy in my sociology class told me he complained to Tampax because of their Tampon ads on TV. Because he doesn’t like the idea of a period and thinks that he shouldn’t have to see the ads on TV. Yes, yes it’s much better to let poor girls be alone in the dark about something they all have to go through. *Rant* Anyway we embarrassed him enough in class about it because well, all the girls were getting a bit defensive about it and he left for awhile until he had calmed down. Lol. Girls 1 Boys 0.

Savage Seduction

6

I like the freckles on your chest

I like the way you like me best

I like the way you're not impressed

While you put me to the test

I like the wine stains on your dress

****

Hermione slid closer to him and with a faint pause (For composure) she rested her chin in the crook of his neck, placing her arm over his waist and letting her hand droop against his stomach. He didn’t move. She brushed her nose just under his ear and let out a squeak, which was like his whine, but shorter and more soothing. She felt the werewolf take a deeper breath than before. She made the noise again, and moved her head ever so slightly across his head. He moved his, so that they were brushing up against each other, and she felt his stomach muscles tightening under her hand.

Hermione made the sound again and he copied her. She thought about how ludicrous this was, but how instinctual it felt. The witch moved back as he turned around to face her, his blue eyes shone perfectly in the darkness. It scared her a bit, that they were so bright. Their noses touched together, but their lips did not meet. She didn’t want to kiss him, it didn’t feel right just now, and apparently neither did he. Instead he moved his head to her left and nestled into her neck, she could feel his stubble scratch against her jaw and it made her break out into a smile. His breathing was slow and shallow, his breath tickled her ears. She nuzzled into his neck now, and her nostrils flared taking in his dusky scent. He began to trace along her head with his, rubbing his jaw against hers, and nuzzling into her neck.

Minutes rolled by and the pair were silent, but not still. They moved together, communicating but not through words - stirring feelings and notions which could never be stirred the same way through conversation. Hermione felt bizarre, what she was feeling couldn’t be described.

The witch’s arm was getting cramped stuck underneath them, but she strangely didn’t want to stop what they were doing. She broke away from him suddenly, and sat up on her knees offering out her hand to the werewolf. In a daze he took it and she pulled him towards her and Fenrir sat up and leant in close to her again. He gave her jaw a diminutive lick, and she was taken aback but understood it wasn’t sexual but compassionate.

The witch felt a tingling sensation take hold of her body while she continued to nuzzle against his head and neck. He gave her another appreciative lick on her neck and she gave one back, she had to admit it was rather outlandish behaviour on her part but she was curious to the way he did things. She felt him heave a sigh in her ear. By this time Hermione was aware that she felt aroused, although she knew he didn’t. She had a feeling he didn’t feel this as a sexual act; it was an act of appreciation, bonding and love. The witch had started it, and that had made him break out into a smile. Their hands lay at their sides, there was no need for them, they did not speak, there was no need to – their bodies were already speaking to each other.

They continued their affair, giving and receiving small licks and nudges in silence until Hermione couldn’t take anymore. She felt warmth spread throughout her body especially her lower regions. Her hands had begun to run more deeply over him. The animalistic ritual was turning her on more than she would let herself believe. She felt other-worldly, like she wasn’t in her right mind. She couldn’t stop herself thinking of all the things she wished he was doing to her. All her initiative was gone. The witch couldn’t stop herself from what she was about to do next.

Fenrir let his body brush against hers, he didn’t even have to tell it what to do – it was doing it automatically. He gave her a short lick across the ear, knowing she would feel what it meant. That was the great thing about carnal instinct – all humans had it, werewolf or not. He just happened to be more aware of it than most humans. He didn’t want this moment to end, he could do this forever. The comfort he was receiving from the witch was more than he had had his whole life-time. He felt a connection between them both that couldn’t be spoken with words. He brushed his teeth against the witch’s neck and when their eyes met, hers flashed a mischievous look. He raised an eyebrow in confusion.

Fenrir watched the female as she leant in, slowly she licked from his jaw to his fore-head with one long drawn out stroke and a shiver ran up his body, could she be any more subtle? Their eyes met again as she pulled back from his face and he dived at her, their lips crashing together. Hermione gasped as the force of him on top of her knocked the witch flat on her back. The werewolf’s hands began to roam over her body with new vigour; the witch’s drifted firmly over his chest. His fingers ran like water over her breasts still encased in his shirt and he groaned a little at the obstruction.

Hermione’s heart pounded fast. As much as she had wanted him to do this just a few moments ago, it suddenly dawned on her how frightening and dominant he could be. Would it be like last time? The witch shivered slightly at his touch – not knowing whether she should let him continue, but not knowing whether or not she could stop him.

Hermione blushed slightly, tearing away from her thoughts, as she realised he had been unclothed during their little escapade and she hadn’t even noticed in the darkness. It was the first time she had properly looked at him, well all of him; previously she had squinted or shut her eyes to avoid seeing that side to him. Now her eyes were wide with anxiety, she had known from the feel of it that he was well endowed but actually seeing it, was a whole different matter. The witch started to squirm underneath him, she wasn’t sure this was such a good idea now. After all she was new to this subject. Her eyes trailed up his body, his chest was broad and firm, she could see the muscles flex in his arms and shoulders and as she looked up at his face she realised he had been watching her too. Just running his eyes over her body, or perhaps watching her watch him.

Fenrir let out a groan, he leant over her again and Hermione found herself reaching up to meet his lips. She felt as if her body was ignoring her, doing things of its own accord. She could close her eyes, but her hands still found its way around his body, rolling over his shoulders and chest. The witch bit her lip as the werewolf dragged his head down her neck and across her chest, where her shirt lay half unbuttoned. She arched her back, why did this feel so good? His hands dragged firmly over her body until they met with her underwear. Curling two fingers around each side he heard her gasp and looked up with a smirk.

“No, you can’t I..” The witch spoke but he cut her off. It was that time of the month.

“I know,” He said candidly. Hermione gave him a perplexed frown. “I knew before you did,” he smirked answering before she had a chance to ask. He planted another kiss on her chest, then his head lingered an inch from her body and he growled with lust. “It smells so good.”

Hermione looked stunned. Was he actually talking about what she thought he was talking about? The witch blushed as he carried on admiring her body. Their eyes met, his vibrant blue ones looked calmly into her hazelnut gaze. He pulled her underwear off while she was still in shock and tossed them off the bed. She shivered again, but this time with anticipation. He smirked and his hands dragged over her body again, making her back arch of its own accord. How come Ron’s touch never felt like this?

She closed her eyes, savouring the feeling of his hands drifting over her. Suddenly she let out a gasp as his wet tongue licked between her legs. She was too scared to open them, in case she didn’t like what she saw. But the feeling – it made her skin prickle with pleasure. It sent spasms of shivers all through her body. Granted it was only one lick, and she wasn’t sure she wanted him to try anything else, but it felt good.

Then he did it again, slow and with as much pressure as he could. The witch’s feet dug into his sides as her body quaked with delight. He gave a husky laugh and sidled up her body again as she opened her eyes slowly. Fenrir leaned over her, but not too close. Blood was smeared on his chin and lower lip. She squirmed uncomfortably at the sight, but he didn’t seem to mind.

Hermione was glad he had stopped, it had felt good but if he had picked up the pace it would have reminded her off her first traumatic experience. She wondered even if that was why he had stopped, had he known? He seemed to pick up on a lot of things she didn’t. Fenrir rubbed his chin with his fore-arm after seeing her squirm restlessly below him, and leant over the witch again to whisper to her. “I’ll stop everything if you want me to,” he grinned. The werewolf knew what she would say, it wouldn’t matter how nice he sounded, he wouldn’t have to stop.

Hermione shook her head instantly. She didn’t want him to stop everything. Although the whole idea of what they were doing made her uneasy, she couldn’t help but crave his hands on her body. He broke into another grin and growled, and she thought he looked very eerie in the light thrown out from the fire. Again the panic began to rise in her, but she could see the calm in his eyes, and she decided to busy herself by pulling off his borrowed shirt over her head.

Fenrir crooned as the witch undressed herself, her breasts were of ample size, not too big that they got in the way, but just enough to fill a hand generously. He bent over her, stooping in for a kiss again, her sweet tongue sliding deliciously around his. The werewolf threw his weight onto one arm as he lent down over her, to avoid crushing the vixen below him. Hermione’s hands snaked down her own body, eyes closed blissfully in the kiss. Her heart was beating 10 times as fast as it normally would; she was excited and a little anxious, she knew he would soon grow bored of kissing.

She ran a hand over her own breasts gasping at how aroused she actually was. Her back arched a little as the werewolf continued to kiss down her neck. She let the hand trail down her stomach and to the apex of her legs. When Fenrir had caught on to what she was doing, he rolled to one side and watched transfixed as she touched herself. As she traced circles with her middle finger she could hardly suppress a small moan.

When she grew bored of being watched she pulled her hand away and looked sideways at the werewolf. His eyes were still gazing at her body, glazed over. Hermione felt nervous, she wanted him to take over now. She didn’t like having to take control, and she sure as hell wasn’t ready to touch him. She giggled faintly, and he turned to her. His cobalt eyes were so piercing; it made her whole body shiver. His face was so close; she took in all its features. His key earring swayed with his movement, she could see his 5 O’clock shadow now, and she laughed, thinking that it was ridiculous he even had one. For all the facial hair he actually had, and the way it looked you would think he never actually shaved at all.

He growled at her, showing his pallid teeth, and she was glad it sounded like an actual animal rather than a human imitating one. She knew it was just like him to do that naturally, not like that one time with Ron when he was trying to be ‘sexy.’ She smirked and found herself lifting her head up to meet him halfway. He moved closer to her, running a hand down her side, she let the palms of her hands run smoothly across his chest and over his shoulders and down his arms, only stopping to grasp at his muscles. He must have liked that, because every time she squeezed them his whole body went taut, and she did it again and again for her own amusement. She was riling him up now, he thrust his body against hers and she gasped. Why was she feeling all of this with him and not with Ron? Any activity with Ron had been so lacklustre, it went by the book. Granted she had been a virgin, but they had done other things. But they hadn’t quite made her feel like this.

Hermione gasped as the werewolf ran his hand down her stomach and over her velvet folds, she was extremely wet. She practically purred as he pushed his fingers in with ease, the witch let an eye open and she spotted him sporting his favourite grin. She couldn’t help break into one herself. She gasped and marvelled at what he was doing – that man had magic fingers. Fenrir groaned as the little witch twitched with delight below him. He could see her arch her back, she was even playing with her breasts now. He ached to be in her, but he was enjoying himself too much to stop. He wanted to make her enjoy it.

Hermione let out another moan now, louder than before. Fenrir had crawled up her body and was licking up her stomach and over each breast, his hand still pulsing alarmingly fast within her. She tried to grab his shoulders but he was too far down, she needed to hold on to something fast, the feeling building up inside her had become so intense it was almost painful. Her breathing had become rapid; she was more audible than she had ever been. The werewolf growled lustfully as he sped up and she practically pushed herself down onto his hand as she reached her orgasm. With a wail and a shudder the little witch threw her head back on the bed as he pulled his very wet hand out of her.

“I don’t think that’s ever happened before,” she giggled, in a state of euphoria. The werewolf just bared his teeth at her, and continued to lick his hand, which was glistening wet, and making an escape for it down to his elbow. She watched him for a few seconds, biting her lip. He was so weird, so animalistic at times it really did scare her. But she reminded herself how inexperienced she was at this, and how it could be quite normal to do that. But then again, she didn’t think Fenrir did anything normal at all.

While the witch had been thinking, Fenrir had rolled across the bed and ended up alongside her. He pulled the witch into him and they sort of embraced for awhile. They started their ritual again. All this nuzzling was making her sleepy until something wet startled her. She had absent-mindedly trailed her finger along his body until it had met at the wet tip of his member. She jumped in fright, and he gave a faint groan in her ear. A smile curled at the edge of her mouth. She kind of liked the idea that she could tease him; he was after all one of the most dangerous...er...wizards out there. And she, Hermione Granger, was able to seduce him like this. Her eyes widened once she had realised what she was thinking about. All the while her finger still lingered against his tip. She was wrapped in too close to him to see what she was doing, but she ran her finger over the smooth edge and he moaned again. This is just too good to pass up, she thought.

She broke from his grasp and rolled over to face in the opposite direction, her head tilted back into the crook of his neck, his stubble brushed along her face and she shivered. This is purely to tease him, she reminded herself, not to get carried away with. Fenrir secured an arm around her waist and pulled her in with a low groan. Hermione gave a devilish grin he could not see and arched her back, urging her butt into his groin. She felt his fingers grasp her arm tighter, so she did it again and felt a growl rumble deep within chest. She let her feet run down his legs and was surprised that she let out a faint moan. They were covered in soft downy hair. Damn it Hermione stay focused!

Fenrir couldn’t hold back a smirk as he felt her body arch under her own moan. He gripped her waist tighter and thrust against her body, the witch let out a startled gasp. He did it again and again, slowly until she was moving with the rhythm too. He then turned the witch around to lie on her back, he kissed her softly and without thinking the witch pulled him, or rather directed him on top of her. She parted her lips and felt his rough tongue dive in. Her hands trailed down his back and rested firmly on his ass, it was so firm it made her squirm with delight. Fenrir noticed she wasn’t hesitating so he pulled back, dragging his fingers along her body, and as if by some magic force her body arched at their touch. Hermione looked at him very seductively and put her legs at each side of him.

For a second Fenrir couldn’t believe his luck, he bent down towards her again, but she rolled out of the way to the other side of the bed with a giggle. He growled in anger at the little minx and dived towards her again, she tried to dodge him again in playfulness but he was too quick. He had landed on top of her and his sheer weight pinned her arms down. A flash of panic crept on her, as she remembered how it was when he had raped her. The werewolf’s face was an inch from hers and his teeth were bared. He growled fiercely, he was too temperamental and had no time for games like this. Suddenly Hermione began to cry, she couldn’t help it, but once again she felt completely terrified in his presence.

Fenrir hissed and tore away from her, leaving her to rub her bruising wrists. She sniffed, as he pulled on his trousers and stormed off downstairs. She lay for awhile and contemplated what had happened. The witch should have known better not to trick someone so temperamental. Sure, he knew the game when he was playing. Wasn’t that how he had claimed most of his victims? By chasing them relentlessly, like playing a game of hide and seek. When they finally thought they were safe he would jump on them. Well, that’s what she had heard anyway. Whether he really did prey on young girls was a mystery because she was sure as hell not going to ask him.

From outside she could hear a howl. It was most definitely Fenrir because it was close by, but she ignored it. Instead she thought more about what had happened that night. She had only meant to say sorry to him earlier, and ended up comforting him in a way he would understand. And apparently he did. She quite liked what they had shared earlier; it made her smile. All the sweet sincerity of the moment had made her heart all a flutter, but she thought it had affected him more than her. He seemed content with showering her with affection, but the strangeness of the event had turned her on. She couldn’t help it but she just felt like she needed him then.

That depressed her even more. The fact that her body was telling her to do something her mind really didn’t want to. She was supposed to be staying emotionally unattached from him, and she didn’t actually have feelings for him. She was just lusting after him, definitely. She nodded her head in defiance and got up from the bed slipping on her travelling cloak and buttoning it up.

She could still hear him baying outside; she assumed he did that when he was emotionally distressed. Hermione raised an eyebrow to herself, when all this was done and dusted and she was back with Ron maybe she could publish her own book; an insight to the lives and workings of werewolves. The witch frowned again though remembering his temper; it had frightened her yet again. Would he really have gone through with it though? And why didn’t he? She thought to herself, maybe it was because she had cried. Was he that sympathetic? He surely hadn’t been when he raped her. He couldn’t have changed. Couldn’t. There was no reason that he should feel different towards her. It’s not like her cared for her.

****

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this. This was originally meant to be gratuitous lemons, but hey, I had a better idea. Anyway think people think it’s too cliché if they get all lovey dovey too soon. :P Anyways, stay tuned for next chapter!

*Lyrics - Nickelback, Figured you out
- 5
- 6
- 7
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Savage Seduction