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A Game of Cat and Mouse	By : bohemianlove Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Harry/Hermione Views: 34013 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-A Game of Cat and Mouse
- 2-A New Game
- 1
- 2
Title: A Game of Cat and Mouse

Rating: NC-17

Pairing: H/Hr

Category: Drama/Romance (SWS, basically)

Summary: Out in the wilderness, Hermione discovers feelings
for Harry that she didn�t know she had.�
Like every other fic ever written, basically, but out in the woods.� Ooh.

Disclaimer: Not mine�but I think HP seriously needs a series
in the erotica section.

A/N: This may or may not suck, and it may or may not be
plausible, but it�s kinda hot, so I�m posting it
anyway.

They�re on the run�on the hunt.� It�s been this way for months now, hiking
through the countryside, doing everything the Muggle way.� Voldemort has a harder time tracking them
that way; he�s forgotten Muggle methods, and his followers never knew them.

Ron�s no longer with them.�
His family needed him, and Harry insisted he go.

Now it�s just the two of them.� Sleeping huddled together against the cold
under a makeshift tent.� Living off the
wilderness and what they can obtain from the little towns they pass.� It�s a bizarre existence that neither of them
is used to, and it gradually awakens something strange and primal within them
the longer it lasts.

He clings to her in his sleep, as if subconsciously seeking
the comfort of her body and simultaneously begging her not to leave him.� As if she ever could.

He watches her whenever she bathes in the small streams they
tend to camp near.� She knows it started
as him looking out for her, making sure nothing attacked her when she was at
her most vulnerable, but he is elementally a male.� He watches her now, hidden in the trees, with
lust and yearning, and she never lets on that she knows.� She understands his needs, and she
understands her own.� In this new life
they�re living, she�s willing to accept that she likes the way he looks at her.

Sometimes she puts on a bit of a show for him, stripping her
clothes off with greater care than she normally would, running her hands over
her body in a way that would make any hot-blooded male sweat.� Sometimes she hears him groan from his hiding
place while he gets off on it.� She
doesn�t feel so helpless when she knows she has that kind of power over him.

One particularly cold night they hold each other as close as
possible, but body heat alone isn�t enough.�
Under the cocoon of blankets and cloak�s they�ve made, she reaches under
his shirt to feel the warmth of his skin.�
His responding shortness of breath draws her to his lips like a moth to
a flame.� He responds eagerly with hands
and mouth, delving under her shirt and palming her breasts.� Their kisses and caresses grow languid as the
heat of arousal allows them the comfort to fall asleep.

After that night, she finds herself becoming more of an
exhibitionist when she goes to bathe.�
The water is becoming increasingly more frigid as winter approaches and
her stomach clamors for a full meal, but the heat of his gaze allows her to
forget all that for a time.� She focuses
all her attention into teasing him, angling herself to
give him an eyeful, bringing water up to her chest to let it run down her body
in rivulets for his eyes to chase, subtly touching herself in the most intimate
of places.

It becomes a game to her after awhile, and she extends it to
all aspects of their life.� When she�s
not thinking about horcruxes and Voldemort, she�s devising new ways to arouse
the boy she�s for so long considered her completely platonic best friend.

At night she presses her body into his so that he can feel
her curves, and if he spoons against her for warmth, she�ll squirm and stretch
against him until she can feel him grow hard, nestled against her backside.

During the day, she brushes against him whenever she can,
bends strategically to give him a nice view of her breasts or backside, finds
discrete ways to touch him �accidentally� in intimate places.� He is, in his typical male way, oblivious to
the thoughts running rampant in her head, but he reacts brilliantly to her
machinations all the same.� She is slowly
and deliberately seducing him, and she enjoys it.

She likes the way his breath quickens when she whispers in
his ear, letting her lips brush against his skin.� She likes the way he jumps a little when her
hand �accidentally� bumps into his bum or crotch as they walk.� She loves the look on his face when she shows
him a nice stretch of skin.� A part of
her doesn�t know why she�s doing this.�
Another part of her doesn�t care; it only wants to see that look on his
face while he�s hovering over her, cock poised at her entrance.

Fucking Harry has become her greatest obsession.� She imagines his sighs against her skin, calloused
thumbs against her nipples, long fingers stroking and probing her sex.� She wonders how his hips would rest between
her thighs, what his cock would feel like against her palm, if his skin is
salty to the taste.

At some point, she knows she�s crossed a line in her mind.� What started as an escape from reality has
become something more�something much more�a passion, a fire, a desire deeper
than lust.

At some point, he�s become her whole world.� She�s paying attention to things she never
did about him before � things like the cleft in his chin, the lock of his hair
that falls so gracefully over his scar in its own disorderly way, the tiny scar
on the middle finger of his left hand that she doesn�t know how he got.� She catalogues these things carefully.

Maybe she only feels this way because he�s the only person
she�s had contact with for at least a month.�
Maybe the lack of civilization is wearing down her inhibitions.

Or maybe she�s just falling for him.

�It�s getting too cold to keep doing this without magic,�
Harry says to her one night in what must be late October.� She isn�t quite sure, but she knows he�s
right.� Even his body around her isn�t
enough to stave off the chill.� �I think
we need to start finding places to stay the night.�

�Yes,� Hermione agreed.�
�Voldemort will have a harder time tracking our stays in hostels than
warming charms.�

�All right,� Harry says.�
�Tomorrow, we�ll keep an eye out along the way.�

Hermione agrees, but she wonders if she heard a bit of
sadness in his voice, if he�s thinking about not being able to watch her
anymore�and she has to admit to herself that she�s going to miss it, too.

Perhaps, she thinks, it�s time to finish seducing him.

The next day they do find a place to stay the night, a
cottage being rented out to tourists and travelers.� It�s not much, but it has a bathroom and a
bed, and after their time in the wild, it sounds like heaven to Hermione.

She showers and shaves her legs, and she wonders if he�s
wondering about her, if he�s fantasizing about what she�s doing, if he�s out
there with his cock in his fist and his mind full of her.� The thought makes her squirm with need and
steels her resolve.� It�s time.

Stepping out of the steamy bathroom, she watches the
expression on his face as he takes in her soaked curls, rosy cheeks, and the
bathrobe that dips low between her breasts.�

�Your turn,� she says, walking past him to sit on the end of
the bed.� He stares a moment longer and
then turns abruptly, scooping up a bundle of clothes as he leaves.

Hermione waits for the sound of the shower spray before she starts
to prepare herself.

When the door opens once more, she�s positioned herself on
the bed, her robe riding as high up as she can get it without revealing
everything.� She�s languidly rubbing lotion
into her thigh when Harry sees her and stops dead in his tracks.� She smiles.

�It�s been forever since I�ve shaved,� she says.� �Feel how soft my legs are now.�

He steps forward hesitantly, and when he�s close enough, she
grasps his hand and guides it up her calf for him, watching his eyes trace the
path of his fingers.� His face is
flushed, his muscles tensed under his T-shirt, and there�s a noticeable bulge
in his boxers.� She leans closer.

�Feels nice, doesn�t it?�

He nods dumbly as her forward position gives him a better
view of her cleavage.

�Harry�I know you�ve been watching me,� she whispers.� His eyes dart up to hers.

�Wh-what are you talking about?�� His hand jerks away, but she catches it in
her own.

�I�m not angry,� she says gently. ��But I knew all along, Harry.�

He frowns bemusedly.�
�Why�why didn�t you ��

�I didn�t say anything because I liked it.�

Harry quirks an eyebrow.�
�You�ve been teasing me, haven�t you?�

Hermione shrugs delicately.�
�I like the way you look at me.��
She reaches for the tie of her robe, tugs it undone, and leans back as
it falls open.� �But I want more than
looking now.�

His Adam�s apple bobs in his throat and his eyes rake over
her as if he�s never seen her before, but he doesn�t move, hesitating and unsure.� Slowly, surely, as if approaching a timid
animal, she rises and lets the robe fall from her shoulders.� His eyes flicker over her breasts and
stomach, the fingers of his right hand twitch, but still, he doesn�t move.� She finally places her hand on the back of
his neck and pulls his mouth to hers.

His reaction is surprisingly immediate.� Seeker reflexes, she thinks as his tongue
strokes hers and his hands, tickling her waist, draw her closer.� The shocks of pleasure to her center are
everything she was hoping for.

She draws him back, onto the bed, onto her, his warm weight
pressing against her hardened nipples and into her hips.� She tugs at the hem of his T-shirt, eager for
his skin, and he pulls back to shed the garment.� His body is lovely, and she sets about
memorizing it, tracing the ridges of his abdomen, circling his nipples.� Impatiently, he claims her mouth again before
he moves to her neck, suckling at her pulse point and nipping at the juncture
of her neck and shoulder.� His hands, in
the meantime, stroke her sides and cup her breasts.� He works lower and uses his lips and tongue
against her, nursing hungrily at each nipple as her body floods with heat and
she squirms against him, desperate for the feel of his cock against her sex.

�You�re so beautiful,� he murmurs against her stomach just
before his tongue dips into her navel.� �Couldn�t help myself.�

She strokes his damp hair as his breath flows hotly across
her stomach.� She waits breathlessly as
he slips lower still, and then she feels his lips graze across her labia and
his nose brush her clit.� His tongue laps
hungrily at her slit, and she holds on for dear life as his ministrations drive
her quickly and steadily over the edge.�
The sensation is powerful as his tongue works its way inside her, and as
his hands graze her thighs, she goes spiraling overboard.

All at once, he is on top of her with his cock pressing at
her weeping entrance, and before she comes down from her high he is inside of
her.

Her body tenses at the unexpected invasion, but at the same
time there is a fullness, a delicious stretching
sensation that she wants more of.� He
feels perfect inside her, long and hard and hot, not overwhelming, just
enough�just right for her.� They�re
right.

He�s been still for her, kissing and caressing, but now he
starts to move.� The friction is like
electricity that sweeps through her nerves and sets her skin aflame.� Every sensation � the head of his cock against
her walls, the light tickling of his hair against her skin, the slap of his
testicles against her bum � arouses her that much more.� This is real, so, so very real, as much dirty
and sticky as it is beautiful and pleasurable, and she loves the reality of sex
with Harry.� It�s him and her, together,
mingling sweat and sharing skin � she�s fucking Harry and the very thought
turns her on.

Her blood boils in her veins and pounds in her ears as her
second orgasm hits.� She grasps him with
all her body, bucks and screams and breathes his name, and he pumps frantically
into her until she is flooded with his release, and it seeps out between them
as he thrusts one last time and collapses against her.

He rolls off her and she waits for him to speak.� She�ll not be the first; she�s
determined.� She started it all, and if
she has her way, he�ll be the one to finish it.

It is quiet, too quiet, as their breathing slows to a normal
pace and she avoids looking at him.

�I thought you were a virgin,� he finally says, and she
wonders why that, of all things, is what he comes up with first.

�I am,� she says quickly, then meets his eye with a
blush.� �I was, I mean.� My hymen broke when I was eleven,� she
explains.� �During a flying lesson, when
I fell off my broom.�

�So�so I didn�t hurt you, then?� he asks, and the concern in
his voice makes her want to melt into a puddle of goo.

�No, I�ll just be a little sore�but that�s normal.�

Harry turns tentatively on his side to face her.� She likes the sight of him disheveled and
coated in sweat � at least, she likes knowing it�s her handiwork that got him
that way.

�What we did�what does it mean?� he
asks.

She turns to face him, teeth worrying at her bottom
lip.� �What do you want it to mean.�

Harry shrugs uncomfortably.�
�I�I need you with me, Hermione.�
I don�t know if I can do this without you. �So�so I�ll take whatever I can get.�

Hermione feels her heart swell.� �Do you want all of me, then?� This is�more than just lust or hormones
or�something?�

He nods.� �I do�I want
it all.�

�Good,� she says, reaching for him, �Because I need to be
with you.�

There is nothing more to be said.� She knows and he knows that, whatever
obstacles they met along the way, this is the way it�s supposed to be.� As he lifts the blankets over them, they seal
it with a kiss � they belong to each other.

His body curls around hers, and this night, her mind is not
controlled by lust, but love.� Finally,
they are warm, and fed, and � relatively � safe, and she no longer needs her
escape into fantasy.� The reality, she
finds, is much better.

The End
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A Game of Cat and Mouse