Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Sensitive	By : S-Mutt Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female Views: 10100 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize from Harry Potter. I make no money off of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Sensitive
- 1
Hermione sourly swilled her drink, staring at the amber liquid. She did her best to ignore Ronald as he chatted up some giggly blonde—a real Lavender throwback.
She closed her eyes and retreated further into the shadows of the corner.
There was no need to look at that perfect straight blonde hair, the fair smooth skin, the ideally made up face, the choice clothing and heels and flattering flirtatious encouraging behavior.
That was what Ron liked.
That was why he was here.
And that was why Hermione was in the shadows. Because that was everything she wasn’t.
She clenched her hand, feeling the tight pull of the skin against deep scars.
It was ironic to be so sensitive over being so sensitive. But Ronald was too…too much. Her scars combined with the healing magic that was constantly coursing through her body meant that one to two weeks every month it hurt when Ronald turned his attentions on her.
And that didn’t make him happy.
She felt those were the main two, but she was never that good at figuring love out. Ronald wanted this night with no repercussions, and he’d been working at making her agree to this for the last while.
So here they were.
And Hermione’s heart was breaking.
A man stepped from the crowd to stand beside her, his own drink in his hand. “At this type of party—the partners are usually okay with the idea of their significant other getting some attention.”
Hermione clenched her jaw before she managed to release it. “Well, let’s just say I wouldn’t be here by my own choice. It doesn't take a Slytherin background to know how to manipulate. Did you know Ronald rather enjoys strategy games?”
The old school mate licked his teeth and regarded her.
She finally flicked her eyes up to him, taking in the aristocratic face and hazel eyes and dark hair. Adrian Pucey was a dish of a man, and one of the few Slytherins she blatantly respected.
She had her reasons. And they were beyond what her Quidditch obsessed friends always talked about—how he was a player for over three years and yet never committed a foul or otherwise cheated.
“The Weasel blackmailed you into coming to a mixer?”
It was the amusement she could see that hurt the most—yes others would find it funny, would agree with Ronald. So she stuck up her chin and tried not to cry. “It was an assortment of reasons, Pucey.” She wanted the strength to tell him to leave her alone, to explain that as soon as Ronald wouldn’t notice she’d leave. She didn’t have the heart to explain Ron’s reasons, or why she’d caved.
It was kind of pathetic.
“And you don’t plan on making the most of it?” The wizard leaned forward enticingly, smiling.
Her breath caught, but tears sprung to her eyes instead.
Adrian quickly straightened, apologizing under his breath and stepping closer in concern.
But how could she expect to make the most of it when Ron had so easily pointed out her flaws? There was a reason they were here tonight. So she licked her lips and blinked her eyes quickly to dry them. “For that same assortment of reasons, Pucey, I will not be seeking out a partner.”
Adrian Grant Pucey carefully watched the little witch. It was a shame that Weasley had brought her to the party without her real consent—he would have loved to woo her and enjoy her company. She cut quite the figure in the streets and at the Ministry, and he’d spent many an occasion casting discreet admiring glances her way.
His eyes narrowed. He’d never heard rumor or seen evidence that there was strife in the relationship she had with the ginger twat. If he could just…make her see how unworthy the Weasley was for her…
He cleared his throat and softly touched her arm to reassure her. She felt frail, vulnerable. His hand looked so large on her shoulder. She turned those big eyes up to him, assessing. He used his thumb to wipe along her collarbone.
She gasped.
“It’s a shame you have those assortment of reasons,” he murmured.
She bit her lip and shook her head. Her vision caught behind him, and he twisted to see what held her attention. The Weasel was pawing up some groupie, the blonde giggling and pawing right back. The two looked to be ready for a rough tumble right there on the dance floor.
Adrian screwed up his nose, turning away.
Hermione watched the pair with pained eyes before she closed them and snapped her head away. She shuddered—a real pain twisting her features.
“Hey,” Adrian murmured, gently grasping her other shoulder and twisting her to face him. She gasped and snapped her eyes open, staring up at him before her eyes wandered to his gripping hands. “Let’s go get some fresh air,” he suggested.
Hermione took in a bracing breath but looped her hand through his offered arm.
Adrian easily maneuvered her through the crowd, noting how she flinched away from brushing against other people. So he was extra careful as he wove through the other guests and into the crisp air.
She eased into more space once they were outside, her form relaxing as she walked more normally.
“Is it the magic or the actual touch?” he asked casually.
Her eyes snapped to his and a blush burned on her cheeks. She didn’t answer, her eyes glittering with tears even as her jaw clenched. Adrian waited patiently, watching while she blinked those tears away. Then she sucked in a breath through her teeth—“both.”
Adrian tsked in commiseration, feathering a touch against her cheek to smooth off one stray tear. Her breath caught and her eyes fluttered before she blushed darkly and pulled away.
He licked his lips. Hermione certainly had this prim and proper air to her, but Adrian had watched her enough to know this was her defense. He saw behind the upturned chin and narrowed eyes and crossed arms and canted hip.
Her lip trembled, and her eyes were glittering, and her breath was shaky.
But he didn’t want her to cry. So he pulled her gently into his arms, humming and embracing her lightly. She only seemed to shake more and sob.
“I feel like this calls for a spot of tea,” he murmured, gently directing her to walk with him to a café open late for the students in the area. She got hold of herself rather quickly.
They calmly sipped the first of their cups, conversation stilled for the moment.
Then Adrian leaned forward across the table and lightly touched her hand where it rested. Her eyes immediately shot down to it. He wondered what it would be like to bed this witch when she was so sensitive, wondered how many orgasms she could have and how easily he could bring them out of her. The thought made his cock twitch in his trousers.
“Why did Weasley bring you to the party if he knew you were like this right now?”
She blushed. “We went to the party because I am like this.” A sneer lent a fleeting twist to her lips.
Adrian couldn’t follow the logic of that. He took a moment to nurse his tea and ponder it some more. Hermione sighed and waited. Adrian scowled and shook his head, “This is either some brilliant strategy or such a stupid plan it boggles me. I don’t follow.”
She gave him a rueful smile, tilting her head slightly. She opened her mouth to speak but a customer walked in, slamming the door and shouting a greeting to the barista. She flinched.
Adrian reached across the table with his other hand, gently rubbing her forearm as she focused on her breathing. She kept her eyes closed as she whispered; “I get the treatment once a month, and it means that my magic is volatile for about two weeks. Ron is…Ronald can’t,” she sighed in frustration, opening her gold eyes.
Adrian rubbed his fingers lightly over her hand as he waited.
She pouted. “It hurts,” she managed to offer.
Adrian drew his hands back and she finally fully faced him. “Not you…that was surprisingly pleasant. I meant Ronald. And me. So he gets frustrated because I pretty much need half of every month to recover.”
Adrian scowled. “You’re saying that he gets frustrated when you are in so much pain that when he touches you for certain activities it hurts?”
Hermione raised her brows and watched him carefully.
Adrian scowled. “That’s absurd. There are other ways to play, to vary the pressure and the touch without causing harm. I haven’t hurt you yet have I?
Hermione hesitated but nodded. “I actually haven’t…ever since the war no one has been able to do that.”
His gut clenched. That was just sad, and a mark of how alone Hermione was. He knew that if she’d hung out more with her Slytherin acquaintances they wouldn’t have accepted such boundaries. They would have worked to figure out what could be done to include her and keep her active in her relationships and activities.
So he gently rested his fingers back on the sleeve of her shirt, feeling the cool silky fabric. He watched his fingers a bit, contemplating how Hermione Granger was known to avoid Ministry get togethers, after work pub visits, arrive at work before the rush and leave after it, and generally reject any invites to coffee or dinner.
He hated that her friends had let this happen. He hated that she was scared of being touched and that her magic made her so sensitive. He hated that she was with a wizard who wouldn’t help her and treat her right.
“I could show you a thing or two about pleasant touch,” he offered rather playfully despite his heavy thoughts.
She scowled, her pretty pink lips pouting out as a flush went to her cheeks. “It’s not just that; stop propositioning me. I told you there was an assortment of reasons. Yeah, Ronald can’t actually touch me right now. But you saw what he went for—gorgeous groupie with perfect skin. Comfortable with his touch too, heavy handed as he is.”
“Why did you focus on skin?” Adrian whispered softly.
Gold eyes rolled and she cupped both her hands around her mug, pulling away from his hand. “You are…some people might like to keep some secrets Adrian!”
He smiled, slowly stretching his lips over his perfect teeth. She’d called him by his first name. So he reached and let his fingers continue stroking her forearm.
She scowled but didn’t draw away.
“Secrets are overrated.”
She shook her head but a light laugh escaped her. “So says the wizard who wants to know the secret.”
Adrian sent her a charming smile in return.
Hermione sighed, “I have scars,” she murmured in defeat. “Ronald has them too, but it’s different for a witch. Glamours don’t alter tactile experience.”
The pureblood froze, a snarl fighting to show on his face as his spine trembled. Hermione had fought in the war—even Draco had whispered a story or two of her. Her scars were testament to her bravery, her ability to stay true to what she believed in and the future she wanted.
He thought a Gryffindor would understand that.
“He doesn’t like your scars?” he managed in a strangled tone.
She waved her hand and wrinkled her nose at him. “Nothing overt, he just sometimes flinches when he touches them by accident. And stares too,” she blinked and drifted into thought. “He is very good at reminding me to put on my glamours,” she whispered.
Hermione hated the way Adrian’s eyes had darkened. She was used to more pitying glances whenever subject of her scars was brought up. The anger in his eyes was different, and she didn’t know how to react to it.
She finished her tea quickly and started gathering her purse. “Well, thank you for getting me out of the party. I suppose I’ll see you at the Ministry on Monday then?”
The Slytherin Alumni stood, staring down at her from his rather impressive height. Hermione, instead of taking a step back, cleared her throat and stood up straighter.
“Come back to my place,” Adrian offered softly.
Her lips fell open in a gasp. She blinked up at the tall brunette. Then her eyes narrowed and she lifted one eyebrow, “Adrian…what…?”
He grinned lopsidedly at her and it did funny things to her insides. “I really do want to show you how pleasant touch can be…how pleasant my touch can be.”
She sucked in a sharp breath.
Wouldn’t you know? A lopsided smile and such an invitation from a Slytherin roused her Gryffiindor bravery.
She bit her lip and carefully slid her hand into his.
Thankfully, he walked her to the road, hailed a taxi, and walked her to his flat. No apparition or other magic to mess with her senses. She stared at this gentle wizard as he kept up a light commentary while he escorted her.
He helped her take off her coat and waited for her to kick out of her small flats before he led her on a tour of the place. It was a nice tidy flat, and Hermione was smitten with his collection of plants—particularly the rose bush.
“They are at a nice bloom right now,” Adrian admitted with a little pride.
She forgave him for it instantly. “They’re gorgeous.”
He smirked at her before carefully cutting off one rose, shaving off the thorns before he offered it to her. “As they say, a rose for a rose.”
She laughed, shyly taking the rose. She brought it to her face and smelled the heady fragrance while her eyes fluttered closed. Taking the moment to reflect, she wondered what was in it for the Slytherin. As far as she knew, they didn’t work for anything without gaining something from it. And bedding her right now would be a lot of work…a lot of control and patience.
Not something the men in her life were usually good with. (Unless, ironically, they were a certain werewolf vilified for his lack of control…)
He gently took her hand, leading her to the dark room where he lit candles with a match and then turned to her. While holding her gaze he undid his tie and slowly dragged it from around his collar.
She swallowed, hard.
Then he undid each button, sliding the shirt off his muscular chest with a languid grace.
He didn’t look away from her eyes, his dark hazel gaze smoldering. It made a heat rise up in her; highlighting her cheeks, sending her heart racing, aching in her core.
Hermione watched him finish undressing himself, then watched as he kneeled at her feet and assisted her out of her clothes. Every inch of flesh revealed he kissed, scarred or not. She swallowed, swaying into his loose embrace while holding the long stemmed rose in the air.
Adrian gently relieved her of the bloom, standing slowly and trailing his other hand up her body.
Then rose petals kissed her flesh, and Adrian stood before her as his eyes followed the rose, which he trailed over every part of her imaginable.
“Lay out on the bed,” he murmured, strength to his command.
She obeyed, “Adrian…”
“You’re so tense. It probably makes you ache—your fear makes it worse when you are touched.”
She moved to say something but clenched her teeth instead when he gently parted her legs and dragged the rose bloom up the inside of her thigh in lazy circles.
“Let’s help you relax,” he whispered.
Hermione gave in. She lost herself to the sensation of the rose petals dragging over skin, a fine sheen gathering over her as she reacted and arched and gasped and felt pleasure for the first time in such a long time.
Then he twirled the bloom around her nipples, up her neck, down her abdomen, and kissed her lady lips with the crimson petals. She moaned.
Then Adrian gently laid the rose back in her hand, taking a long ostrich feather in his own. Her eyes widened as he brought it to her skin.
She looked like she was coated in diamond dust.
Adrian softly cooed to her, gentling her as he trailed the feather around her breasts and flicked it at her nipples. She shuddered, her flushed skin contrasting deliciously with the beaded rosy tips of her nipples. He licked his teeth as he kneeled beside her on the king sized bed and silky sheets. The feather trailed over her body slowly, sensuously light and teasing.
She arched and sighed as she came.
But Adrian continued, and gasps escaped the witty witch as she sunk into deeper rolling pleasures.
Adrian softly brushed his lips over her hand, gently sucking on the pads of her fingers as he gauged her state.
He’d already enticed her through four orgasms; the rose to gentle her into trusting him, the feather to tease her senses into those orgasms. It looked like she was still capable of handling some more. He wondered what it would be like to push her beyond her limits, to make her hold onto him as her anchor while her world shattered and reformed itself.
He wanted to cradle her as she lost herself in pleasure.
The tempting thought niggled at him as he retrieved the cold silk scarf. Her gold eyes watched him in lazy anticipation where she lay resplendent on the dark burgundy sheets.
Her breath shuddered from her lips and her eyes fluttered closed as he laid the cold cloth over her stomach. He let it rest a bit before taking one corner and dragging the smooth fabric along the planes and curves of her body. She sighed and undulated, stretching in his bed while her languid eyes and smile turned to him. His breath caught at her sexy expression.
He carefully trailed his other hand atop the cloth, creating just that bit more pressure to watch how she reacted.
She was so sensitive, so pleased, that she came within seconds.
Adrian grinned at her as he continued, watching her and encouraging her through two more orgasms before he put the cloth aside and then smoothed her skin with his hands.
Then he arranged them carefully smoothly rolling and lifting and gently supporting until Hermione was straddled over him. She hovered for a second, blinking, then she slowly lowered herself down.
Her weight was minimal as she finally rested on his stomach, though her thighs were still tense. She shifted slightly, grimacing. Adrian watched her carefully. On a hunch he slid his hands up her torso, cupping her breasts gently and lifting them.
Hermione sighed, her eyes fluttering closed.
A smile stretched his lips. “I want you to touch me, princess. Go slowly, do what you want.” And he wanted her to learn that touch wasn’t all bad. He wanted her to learn that she wasn't limited to her isolation.
He wanted her to learn that he could give her pleasure.
His abdomen clenched when her cool fingers carefully spread and trailed along his chest, playing with his nipples and the sparse hair before smoothing up his shoulders to caress his neck and weave into his hair.
With a focus he wasn’t used to feeling for a witch he watched her progress—he watched the curiosity overtake her wary expression and the delight wash over her features. Her body started undulating a little, moving more freely now that she wasn’t worried about pain.
Adrian sucked in a sharp breath.
Hermione stopped, staring at him with wide eyes. She blinked and then a pleased expression came over her—she scratched into his scalp again.
Moaning and his own eyes closing, Adrian smiled. That’s right kitten, I’m reacting to you. He opened his dark eyes as Hermione moved on, caressing his body more firmly.
She took in a deep shuddering breath and shifted, lifting up and then back. Adrian licked his lips.
Hermione’s gold eyes caught his, regarding him. Then she bit her lip and sunk slowly down on his cock. Adrian gritted his teeth and patiently and torturously held his hips still. Hermione continued her smooth slow pace, sighs escaping her lips as her hands held his forearms.
He gently smoothed his fingers over her nipple, supporting her breasts with his palms.
She whimpered and tightened, a trembling rushing over her frame.
Adrian, having been hard for quite a time while he overloaded Hermione’s senses and she reacted to him so beautifully, let out his own growling groan.
Her pace sped up slightly, still gentle—but she was tight and pulsing and getting off on it and was so beautiful to look at…
She came again, her walls clenching his cock. Adrian hissed in his breath and tensed up every one of his muscles, trying to ride out her orgasm. He managed it just barely, and then he carefully urged her forehead so she leaned over his chest. Her breasts rested gently against his pectorals and her hands by his head.
Gold eyes blinked and stared into his own, languid and satisfied.
Adrian carefully set his hands on her arse and helped her rock.
Her eyes fluttered closed and her strawberry lips fell open in a gasp. He growled and nuzzled into her neck, breathing over her ear as they rocked gently together.
Hermione’s breath started hitching, her body arching and muscles trembling.
Letting out his own hot breath against her neck he nuzzled and moved so he could take her lush lips with his own. She smiled against his mouth then gasped as he gently bit her full lower lip.
Her hips twisted and she shuddered, his name breathing out from between her lips.
Adrian groaned and arched slightly as her pulsing sheath pulled his own orgasm from him.
Panting as they calmed down, Adrian held the little witch to his chest. She kissed his shoulder gently and he smiled as he smoothed his hands up and down her back.
She sighed.
Running his fingers through her wild hair he took in a deep breath.
“Thank you,” she whispered shakily.
Adrian blinked, pulling his head back and twisting so he could look at her. Her head was still turned into his chest though, and he didn’t know how she was feeling until a cold tear ran along his skin.
“Hey,” he soothed, “where are these tears coming from?”
Her breath hitched and a little sob escaped her. “I’m sorry, that was wonderful.”
“Little witch,” he murmured, “I am not so blind to think you didn't enjoy that. Why are you crying?”
She turned her face up to him, resting her chin on his chest. He stared down at her and waited patiently while he carded his fingers through her hair.
“I,” her voice was choked and watery, she paused to clear her throat. “I have been dating Ronald for two years—and he’s never…ever taken the time to work around my handicap. He’s always angry at me, and it’s just awful.” She closed her eyes briefly before opening them again, “Ronald has never made me feel beautiful or safe or desirable. Never taken the time to see how I could react to him.”
Adrian stayed quiet for a bit, not knowing how to tell her his true thoughts. (Ronald was a worthless berk.) He instead caressed her, fingers running over smooth skin and raised scars as he pondered how any wizard would give their wand arm to have this witch in their lives.
“And tonight he finally got what he wants. But…now I want this too.” Her confession was paired with wide gold eyes, innocent and wondering.
Adrian felt a slow smile stretch his lips.
Hermione gave him a little smile in response before she tentatively inquired. “After I break up with Ronald in the morning…would you like to go out for breakfast?”
“I think I can spare quite a few hours for a certain witch.”
She smiled wider, reaching up and kissing him sensuously.
Adrian felt a little thrill down his spin as he grinned and responded.
Then she settled against his chest and he pulled the sheets and blankets up over them. He was sated and comfortable, and the witch was resting on him already drifting in a light doze.
Adrian smiled softly, pulling the little witch into him as they settled into the bed. Ronald was a right wanker who didn’t know a good thing when he had it. A witty gorgeous witch who was so sensitive she could come from a nibble assault on her earlobe? He growled and nuzzled into her hair, drifting off to sleep with his new witch.
He’d show her off tomorrow.
Probably after they enjoyed the bed a bit more.
- 1
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Sensitive