He'd never met a girl who thought things through more thoroughly than she did; she analyzed everything from every angle, did endless practice runs in her mind to make sure she'd planned for every contingency! Which meant …
"You've thought about this before," Lucifer said, sounding almost as bewildered as he felt. "You've thought about me—thought about kissing me—before you ever stepped foot under that cursed mistletoe. Granger's beard, you … you too want me."
Her face flamed pink, but she didn't look away. "So what if I do? Is that a problem?"
Lucifer blinked, utterly flabbergasted by the revelation, he didn't think after her warning expression to him for not looking, she would ever be into....
Sliding her hand from his chest down to his boxers, she trailed a finger along his cotton-covered length, which jerked to attention and began to weep profusely. "I got the impression you wouldn't be averse to my wants," she confessed with a note of uncertainty. "Was I wrong?"
He swallowed hard.
The possibility of being with Hermione had always seemed too farfetched to entertain.
He was too old for her, and she was too pure for him.
Deep down, Lucifer still couldn't override his sense of self-preservation, his guilt and he'd filed away any and all tender feelings in the deepest recesses of his heart—until he'd convinced himself that he truly felt nothing.
But now she stood before him, laying it all on the line, and he couldn't bring himself to deny the truth, not in the face of such honesty.
Lucifer dropped both hands to her waist and pulled her body against his. "As usual, Granger, you're not wrong."
She gasped at the contact and then smiled up at him. "I told you to call me Hermione."
Smirking, Lucifer dipped down and pressed his lips to hers, luxuriating in the give and take of her mouth, a new weightless freedom in his chest. "I suspect I'll need practice to break the habit," he murmured. "Granger rolls off the tongue so much more easily than Hermione."
"You know what else rolls off the tongue?" she countered suggestively, her fingers flying down his chest, undoing his shirt with shaky but effective haste.
"There are far too many suitable answers to that riddle," Lucifer said with a laughing leer. "But perhaps if you lie down on the bed, we can test a few and decide on the best answer."
Eyes ablaze, she shrugged off her robes and went to undo her jeans.
Lucifer pulled off his own shirt, but kept close to her, worried that if he moved too far away, she might vanish into thin air, a figment of his imagination.
Kicking off his shoes, he pushed down his trousers and stripped off both socks in rapid succession.
Granger kept her gaze glued to his body as she wiggled out of her jeans, and, judging by her heavy breathing, she liked what she saw.
With a fair amount of grace, she got out of her socks and shoes then smoothly kicked aside her denims.
But when she went to pull off her lacy purple knickers, Lucifer stopped her.
"I can do that for you."
Her lips twittered into a nervous smile. She nodded.
"Come over here."
Taking her hand, he led her to the bed.
The hangings had been left tied back that morning, and the thick red material blended into ebony.
He'd never realized how uninviting his bed appeared until that very moment.
If the interior were any darker it would look as though he slept in a cave.
Summoning his wand, he lit the few candles, and then duplicated them until they provided suitable illumination.
Hermione smiled at him and used her wand to make the candles float through the air; they hovered in a loose circle around them, giving the room a strangely ethereal feel.
"They'll stay there until I cancel the charm," she told him.
Lucifer nodded and set his wand on the bedside table. "It looks nice."
"I use it when I take a bath," she rambled, clearly nervous. "So I can read in the tub."
Lucifer's brow rose. "Dirty talk will get you everywhere, Granger."
She smiled. "Hermione."
"Damn," he muttered. "Hermione."
Taking her wand for her and setting it with his own, he nodded at the bed.
Hermione blushed but eagerly sat on the edge, then, thinking better of it, scooted further across and laid back against the pillows.
Her hair—somewhat calmer since the breast reduction—fanned around her in fluffy chestnut curlicues, and she squirmed against his dark counterpane, her skin standing out in warm contrast against the black void.
The beauty of the tableau stole his breath, and Lucifer stared at her for a moment, absently rubbing his heart to encourage a semi-regular beat.
She had one long scar that cut across her torso and two smaller scars on her abdomen, it looks as if Hermione finally cancelled her glamour charm to show him damages of her accident.
Her left eyebrow had a little scar too, which looked preety cool.
It felt overly intimate to be shown these unseen parts of her.
And he couldn't help thinking that she looked like some kind of wild warrior goddess—battle-scarred but not at all diminished.
She was survival personified.
Hermione smiled and extended her hand toward him. "It's all right. I'm scared, too."
"I'm not scared," Lucifer said automatically. "I'm just getting used to seeing a girl I care about spread out on my bed."
She smiled, embarrassed but clearly pleased. "Are you sure about that? You took a pretty keen interest in chatting up with your ex at breakfast next day after Yule Ball...."
Lucifer's lip flickered to a cautious smirk, and he settled into the space next to her. Had she been watching him? And was his Gryffindor jealous?
Gliding his hand across her naked belly, Lucifer caught her hip and rolled her toward him so they were face-to-face. "I'm not interested in Eve."
"You're not?"
"No."
Her hand slipped down between them, grazing the tented cotton of his boxers. "So … you're not sleeping with her … or anyone else when I am not around?"
Lucifer tucked his fingers under the border of her knicker elastic and gently nudged them down. "I am not currently involved with anyone else, romantically or sexually besides you."
A small smile tugged at her lips. "You only want me."
With a daring grin, she slid her leg over his hip and drew him forward, using the added leverage to grind against him.
His whole body pulsed with adrenaline, and Lucifer responded to the rush by shoving his hand down the back of her knickers.
His fingers found their way to her shadowed divide, and he slowly followed the path down into the cove between her thighs.
Apparently the tide had come in.
Hermione plunged forward and kissed him again, the force of it startling.
Deliciously so. She pushed at his boxers with one hand, and Lucifer did his best to shimmy out of them while maintaining contact with her lips.
He had to roll on top of her a bit to get them down, a position that she took full advantage of, rolling them further, so she was on her back and he was naked atop her, his pants around his knees.
Using her feet, she pushed his boxers down to his ankles so he could kick them to the floor.
Her hands were all over him, and he could scarcely believe how good it felt when she sank her nails into his back.
No doubt he'd regret all that ardor the next day, but for the time being, the sting left him high as a runaway racing broom.
Pulling his lips from hers, he fought to slow his breathing. "Your knickers are rubbing me raw."
"Then you'd better take them off," she panted back.
He didn't need to be told twice.
Lucifer pushed himself up and sat back on his heels.
His erection bobbed in the open air, and she licked her lips when she saw it, which did absolutely nothing to help calm his breathing.
Hooking his fingers around the elastic at the sides, Lucifer gave her little knickers a tug, and she lifted her hips to aid in their removal.
His gaze remained focused on the unveiling, aroused beyond measure by the dark vee of curls between her legs.
Her parted slit appeared visibly excited, the tissue pink and plump, and when he pulled away her underwear, she spread her legs for him, blessing him with the most explicit proof of her arousal imaginable.
Sweet Circe, she was so wet he could smell her.
The air hung heavy with musky sweetness, like sex and sugar quills.
The heady aroma made his mouth water and his brain spin.
Following his nose, he lowered himself to her belly, and when his face was hovering over her mound, he glanced up to check her reaction.
She looked stoned, her eyelids heavy, her chest rising and falling with each ragged breath.
Both her pupils had spread to inky black puddles, all the brown obliterated.
His cock must have found that particularly agreeable, because it began to drip so prodigiously Lucifer felt as though he'd sprung a leak.
Pressing his nose to her furry slit, he inhaled deeply.
She squeaked in surprise, and he tipped back his head to watch her.
It was an odd angle, but he needed to see all that tightly-wound control slipping away.
She met his eye. Then blushed.
Holding her gaze, he gave a testing lick, and when she threw back her head, emitting a garbled shout, Lucifer grinned and dove in.
He did his best to watch her as his tongue slithered through her folds, but all he really wanted to do was close his eyes and get lost in her depths.
Her juice was like a drug, and he intended to overdose.
He lapped at her, his tongue wide, scooping up the musky cream at her entrance and swiping all the way up to her swollen clit.
She whimpered each time he circled the peak, so he lingered there longer with each pass.
When he sucked her nub into his mouth, she spewed out a stream of incoherent praise that made him want to laugh and come in equal measure.
"Lucifer!" Her hand shot into his hair.
The scrape of her nails sent a shockwave of pleasure down his spine, and Lucifer groaned into her, his balls pulling tight.
"I'm close," she panted. "Don't stop!"
He sucked her clit a little harder, and she arched off the bed.
Her thighs quivered against his face, her whole body trembling as if her core had been set to vibrate.
She shouted his name, a broken cry of relief, and proceeded to buck against his tongue to the beat of her pulsing sex.
A thrill of pleasure and pride suffused his heart, the glow of it strong enough to warm his face.
This outstandingly brave and intelligent witch had proclaimed him worthy, and for some reason he wanted to prove her right.
It made him feel real.
For the first time in a very long time, Lucifer felt grateful to be immortal.
As she came down from her high, several rogue tremors shook her body, and Lucifer lifted his head to watch.
He absently wiped at his wet chin with one hand and realized that half his face was covered in her slippery passion.
Even his nose had been glazed.
She blushed when she saw him shining with her lust, though her embarrassment seemed to be tempered by amusement.
She laughed when his tongue curled up to lick the cream from his upper lip.
Lucifer grinned. "Would you like more?"
xxxxxx
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