Daydream Charm? Ch. 3
Chapter 3
Obviously I don't own anything!
Hermione was floating. Her limbs felt buoyant, like they were suspended in clouds, and were slow to respond to her commands. Slowly, languorously, she lifted her hand, just to make sure she could. Eyes closed, she lightly traced her face, reacquainting herself with her features. Wide forehead, right now smooth, absent of a frown of concentration or frustration; delicately arched eyebrows, far lighter than the mop of curls on her head; high cheekbones that narrowed to her gently rounded but admittedly stubborn chin. She continued back up the center of her face, lightly running a finger over her mouth, lower lip just a touch too wide and full for the upper, and up over the pert tip of her nose. Having reassured herself that she was in fact, still herself, Hermione opened her eyes.
She was lying in a tub as large as the one in the prefect’s bathroom, but this one was far more decadent. A thick, rich layer of bubbles surrounded her, and steam escaped the foam in tendrils, wafting an exotic spicy scent to her. She gazed through the haze and saw an Arabian bath chamber, tiled in a blue that could only be described as lapis lazuli, gold and gems winking at her in the shimmering light. An intricately designed brazier glowed in one corner of the room and Hermione realized that the deliciously exotic scent teasing her nostrils was frankincense. Sconces decorated in the same manner as the brazier dotted the walls and in their dim light the colors of the gorgeous room glowed. At the far end of the rectangular tub, a gauzy green curtain waved in a pointed archway, a light breeze teasing the ends of the translucent cloth.
Suddenly, the cloth was drawn aside, and Fred stepped into the arch. As Hermione watched, he took in the beauty of the room, gaze finally resting on her. A slow, lazy grin stretched across his face and she felt an answering smile, almost a smirk on her own.
“You look lonely in there all by yourself. I think I’ll have to do something about that.” Fred was walking slowly toward her as he said this, hands resting at the hemline of his simple green cotton t-shirt.
“Yes, and I fear you are quite inappropriately dressed.” Hermione moved to the tiled edge of the bath, and drank in the sight of his form-fitting shirt, light blue jeans and carelessly swept back hair. His casual outfit was at odds with the ambiance of the room, but not really the source of her annoyance with his clothes.
Reading her mind, Fred drew the shirt up over his head, revealing a set of broad shoulders and a toned chest, pale, but dusted with freckles from the sun. He kicked off his leather sandals, and quickly threw off his pants and boxers, leaving Hermione only a moment to appreciate the sight of his naked body before he eased himself into the foamy water beside her.
Without a word, Fred drew Hermione to him, and his lips crashed down upon hers. She felt surrounded by him, his arms like two bands around her back, his chest a living wall that was somehow hotter than the water around them, and his mouth pressing down on hers in ferocious hunger. He drew his hand up the smooth curve of her spine, stopping only when it reached her hair and tangled itself in her curls. He gently pulled her head back, giving him better access to her mouth as his tongue slipped past her lips and plundered. Hermione moaned, as they tasted one another, tongues twisting and sliding slowly against each other. She stepped a little closer, her foam-covered nipples just grazing his chest, and gasped at the slippery sensation that the water and bubbles provided.
She could feel Fred tighten his hold on her hair as she did this, and was rewarded when his other hand slid over her shoulder and found her breast. He molded the soft mound, his grip firm despite the water, squeezing and caressing with the same unhurried attention he was giving their kiss. He traced a finger over her nipple, standing proudly after his ministrations and lavished attention on her other breast. Hermione felt heat pooling low in her stomach as he continued, and wondered if there was a cord connecting her nipples to her core, as sparks flew back and forth between them, jumping each time he moved his hand until a trail of fire blazed within her.
Moaning and nearly aching with the need for more contact, Hermione moved her own hands over his shoulders and chest, and then twined them around his neck, pulling herself flush against him, glorying in the feeling of her breasts crushed against his chest, the delicious contrast of hard and soft. Her legs slipped and slid around his until they fell into place around his hips, and his arousal pressed against the taut skin of her abdomen. He slid his hands up and down her thighs, stopping now and again to cup her arse and press her firmly against his erection, groaning at the feeling. She locked her heels around him, urging him to take their embrace to a different level.
Fred moved over to a recessed bench on the wall of the pool, never once breaking their heated kiss as he gently placed Hermione on it. She reveled in the feeling of the smooth tile beneath her, so different from the hard warmth of the man in front of her. At his urging, she released her legs from around him, and gasped into his mouth as she felt his hard length slide into her, filling her inch by inch. He slowly pulled out, almost entirely, then thrust back inside of her, creating a friction that sent more sparks flying through her. Over and over he plunged into her, setting a pace that she matched, using her legs around him to bring him back to her each time. As the crescendo built inside of her, Hermione tightened her grip around his neck, grasping his wet, red locks as she tried to hold on. His thrusts came faster and she felt her head drop back, moaning and gasping for breath as his hand came between them and pleasured her. Then the world shattered around her in a surge of heat, a fireball exploding behind her eyes as she cried out, and heard an answering gasp as Fred shuddered inside of her.
He collapsed against her, then slowly moved his weight onto the tiled bench, drawing her back into the circle of his arms. Her breasts slipped against his chest once more, and she moaned as their overly sensitized tips added to the aftershocks of her orgasm. She closed her eyes, and then, once more, she was floating in a fog...
Obviously I don't own anything!
Hermione was floating. Her limbs felt buoyant, like they were suspended in clouds, and were slow to respond to her commands. Slowly, languorously, she lifted her hand, just to make sure she could. Eyes closed, she lightly traced her face, reacquainting herself with her features. Wide forehead, right now smooth, absent of a frown of concentration or frustration; delicately arched eyebrows, far lighter than the mop of curls on her head; high cheekbones that narrowed to her gently rounded but admittedly stubborn chin. She continued back up the center of her face, lightly running a finger over her mouth, lower lip just a touch too wide and full for the upper, and up over the pert tip of her nose. Having reassured herself that she was in fact, still herself, Hermione opened her eyes.
She was lying in a tub as large as the one in the prefect’s bathroom, but this one was far more decadent. A thick, rich layer of bubbles surrounded her, and steam escaped the foam in tendrils, wafting an exotic spicy scent to her. She gazed through the haze and saw an Arabian bath chamber, tiled in a blue that could only be described as lapis lazuli, gold and gems winking at her in the shimmering light. An intricately designed brazier glowed in one corner of the room and Hermione realized that the deliciously exotic scent teasing her nostrils was frankincense. Sconces decorated in the same manner as the brazier dotted the walls and in their dim light the colors of the gorgeous room glowed. At the far end of the rectangular tub, a gauzy green curtain waved in a pointed archway, a light breeze teasing the ends of the translucent cloth.
Suddenly, the cloth was drawn aside, and Fred stepped into the arch. As Hermione watched, he took in the beauty of the room, gaze finally resting on her. A slow, lazy grin stretched across his face and she felt an answering smile, almost a smirk on her own.
“You look lonely in there all by yourself. I think I’ll have to do something about that.” Fred was walking slowly toward her as he said this, hands resting at the hemline of his simple green cotton t-shirt.
“Yes, and I fear you are quite inappropriately dressed.” Hermione moved to the tiled edge of the bath, and drank in the sight of his form-fitting shirt, light blue jeans and carelessly swept back hair. His casual outfit was at odds with the ambiance of the room, but not really the source of her annoyance with his clothes.
Reading her mind, Fred drew the shirt up over his head, revealing a set of broad shoulders and a toned chest, pale, but dusted with freckles from the sun. He kicked off his leather sandals, and quickly threw off his pants and boxers, leaving Hermione only a moment to appreciate the sight of his naked body before he eased himself into the foamy water beside her.
Without a word, Fred drew Hermione to him, and his lips crashed down upon hers. She felt surrounded by him, his arms like two bands around her back, his chest a living wall that was somehow hotter than the water around them, and his mouth pressing down on hers in ferocious hunger. He drew his hand up the smooth curve of her spine, stopping only when it reached her hair and tangled itself in her curls. He gently pulled her head back, giving him better access to her mouth as his tongue slipped past her lips and plundered. Hermione moaned, as they tasted one another, tongues twisting and sliding slowly against each other. She stepped a little closer, her foam-covered nipples just grazing his chest, and gasped at the slippery sensation that the water and bubbles provided.
She could feel Fred tighten his hold on her hair as she did this, and was rewarded when his other hand slid over her shoulder and found her breast. He molded the soft mound, his grip firm despite the water, squeezing and caressing with the same unhurried attention he was giving their kiss. He traced a finger over her nipple, standing proudly after his ministrations and lavished attention on her other breast. Hermione felt heat pooling low in her stomach as he continued, and wondered if there was a cord connecting her nipples to her core, as sparks flew back and forth between them, jumping each time he moved his hand until a trail of fire blazed within her.
Moaning and nearly aching with the need for more contact, Hermione moved her own hands over his shoulders and chest, and then twined them around his neck, pulling herself flush against him, glorying in the feeling of her breasts crushed against his chest, the delicious contrast of hard and soft. Her legs slipped and slid around his until they fell into place around his hips, and his arousal pressed against the taut skin of her abdomen. He slid his hands up and down her thighs, stopping now and again to cup her arse and press her firmly against his erection, groaning at the feeling. She locked her heels around him, urging him to take their embrace to a different level.
Fred moved over to a recessed bench on the wall of the pool, never once breaking their heated kiss as he gently placed Hermione on it. She reveled in the feeling of the smooth tile beneath her, so different from the hard warmth of the man in front of her. At his urging, she released her legs from around him, and gasped into his mouth as she felt his hard length slide into her, filling her inch by inch. He slowly pulled out, almost entirely, then thrust back inside of her, creating a friction that sent more sparks flying through her. Over and over he plunged into her, setting a pace that she matched, using her legs around him to bring him back to her each time. As the crescendo built inside of her, Hermione tightened her grip around his neck, grasping his wet, red locks as she tried to hold on. His thrusts came faster and she felt her head drop back, moaning and gasping for breath as his hand came between them and pleasured her. Then the world shattered around her in a surge of heat, a fireball exploding behind her eyes as she cried out, and heard an answering gasp as Fred shuddered inside of her.
He collapsed against her, then slowly moved his weight onto the tiled bench, drawing her back into the circle of his arms. Her breasts slipped against his chest once more, and she moaned as their overly sensitized tips added to the aftershocks of her orgasm. She closed her eyes, and then, once more, she was floating in a fog...