Chapter 13

Sometime in the middle of the night, Hermione slowly woke up. Her long sleep in front of the fire, distressed though it had been, was making it impossible to stay asleep. She imagined it was around four in the morning, and it would probably start to get light out very soon.

Hermione felt incredible guilt for what she'd put Sirius through. She suspected half the pain she'd felt was actually his. She'd had the suspicion for a while that she would be able to sense his pain. Since the first time she'd lost her temper for no reason at all, she'd begun to wonder what had brought about that change. Then she'd come home from her visit with Snape, and though she hadn't noticed at the time, the living room had been totally trashed. She'd even recalled having to avoid stepping on a lamp. So, it would appear that along with everything else, she'd inherited some of Sirius' temper, because though she could be fierce, she was never needlessly violent and almost always kept control of her temper.

Sirius didn't seem to be experiencing the same transference, but until he started doing research just for the heck of it, she supposed he might not notice. She would keep an eye out for anything unusual, and she decided not to tell Sirius unless it became a major issue. After all, maybe she could use a bit more... impulsiveness in her personality. But to be fair, Sirius could use some rationality in his own.

Hermione shivered as Sirius moaned in his sleep. He turned slightly and draped an arm over her midsection. She held still, not wanting to wake him up or reveal that she was awake. The heat and weight of his arm was all she could think about, and she swore she could feel his coarse arm hair through her camisole.

The hand tightened on her side and began to draw small circles on her ticklish flesh. Hermione bit her lip and tried not to let a sound come through, but it was difficult when that devilish hand was moving up her stomach to her ribcage. Hermione sighed; his hand was scratchy, pulling her shirt higher with its roughness. She was quite sure he was awake now, but she didn't dare open her eyes to confirm that. She wanted him, she would never deny that; but she still had reservations about giving herself to a man who was forced to want her. It was humbling and somewhat humiliating.

"Hermione... what are you thinking right now?" Sirius' voice was thick with sleep, but she could hear the smile in it.

"Nothing," she whispered, her voice catching as the hand slipped past the valley between her breasts to trace her collarbone.

"We both know that's not true. Tell me the truth."

Hermione heaved a sigh. Of course he knew she was thinking; when wasn't she? She thought about lying again, but in a moment of clarity, realized she would have to tell him how she felt. He was going to take her virginity eventually, and she owed it to herself to be honest with him about her fears. Not that she thought he could alleviate them, but maybe he felt some uncertainty as well.

"I'm scared. Not of you," she added quickly, seeing the hurt look on his face. "But of what I feel, and why. I always... I always dreamt of falling in love, getting married, and having children. I didn't think I'd be in a position to have to be intimate with someone in order to stay alive, and certainly not with... you," she finished lamely. It was true: she'd never considered Sirius to be an option, mostly since he had died before she'd been old enough to consider anyone other than Ron as a candidate for her affections. Given time, surely she would have recognized his many... attractive attributes, but thinking about it and doing it were two different things, and she felt out of her league. About twenty thousand leagues below her league, actually.

"You can still have those things, Hermione," he told her in a soft voice. Hermione froze; is he saying...? He went on, "I'll just be a little... complication. You're a brilliant and damn sexy witch. I'm sure you can find a man who doesn't mind that you have to... attend to me... every now and then," he finished with a broad smile, obviously proud that he'd found a solution to her dilemma. She looked away, and she didn't see how quickly his smile fell or that his face took on a sickly pallor.

"And I guess you would do the same?" she asked.

"Well, I don't really intend on getting married, not anytime soon, anyway. But I guess if you were seeing other men, I wouldn't be opposed to seeing other women." His words sounded certain, but Hermione was sure she saw a flicker of unease on his face.

"I don't think I could ever be with two wizards at once. I'm not that kind of girl. Even if you and I weren't really together. I'll just have to... deal with it."

"Well, what if I married you?"

Hermione felt a pang in her heart and a panic that she wasn't entirely sure was her own, before she laughed out loud. "Sirius, everyone knows you're not the marrying sort. I'm sorry I even brought it up." Hermione went to move away, hurt by his callous "offer."

He pulled her back quick as lightning. Holding her tightly in his grasp, he rubbed her back with one hand and held her neck in the other. Her face was pressed against his chest, and she struggled for a moment before succumbing to the quintessentially male scent and feel of him.

"You might have a lot to learn about me, Hermione Granger. I am the marrying sort. I happen to think I'd make a very good husband. And father."

Hermione felt like a world-class prat. "I know you'll be a good husband. Just... not mine. And of course you'll be an amazing father! I know that like I know your name is Sirius Black."

"So, you don't think I'd be a good husband to you?" Sirius' voice was teasing, but slightly tight, and she knew she had hurt him.

"You're not understanding what I'm saying. I mean, if we had to be married, you'd be a good husband, certainly. But you'll never be my husband, so you'll never be my good husband. Do you see what I'm saying?"

"What if I really want to be your good husband?"

Hermione only shook her head against his chest. "You shouldn't feel like you have to marry me out of guilt or gratitude. That would be so wrong! Can we drop it? I only wanted to tell you I was nervous about losing my... about being intimate for any reason other than love."

Sirius' voice rumbled under her head, and his breath whispered against her ear. "I'll only say one other thing. If I were to marry you... it would not be out of guilt or gratitude. It would be... because of what you said."

Hermione tried to focus on what he was saying, but his hands were stroking her arm and back, and his body was warm against her, so hard compared to her softness, so large compared to her petite frame. So perfectly... Sirius.

He tilted her face up to his, and his lips were insistent against hers. She moved softly against his mouth, delighting in the low growl she felt in his chest. Holding onto the back of her neck with an insistent grasp, Sirius deepened the kiss, his tongue passing her barrier and exploring her mouth. No hollow was left untouched, and Hermione felt herself melting into his arms, pressing her body fully against his. His arousal was pressed against her thigh, and she couldn't stop her leg from moving over his, pressing her centre against his.

Sirius moved them from lying on their sides and pressed Hermione into the bed on her back. He pressed one leg between her thighs, and her hips twitched at the contact. She wanted to finish their conversation... but she liked this one better. The kind with no talking....

Sirius ran his hand up and down her side and slipped it beneath her tank top. Her skin felt enflamed by his touch, like she could feel the trail he left behind for long moments after he'd moved on to a new place to explore. His kisses were leaving her reeling and she barely had enough time to recover from one before he was lavishing another upon her, stealing her breath and dizzying her senses. His kisses were hard and demanding, and Hermione relinquished everything he asked of her.

When his fingertips grazed the underside of her breast, Hermione moaned into his mouth. She could feel him smirk against her lips, so she rotated her hips against his groin to wipe it away. It worked, and Sirius' hand faltered as he absorbed the feeling.

Taking his hand away from her body, Sirius pulled her camisole over her head in one swift movement. She put her arms around his body, partially to hide herself from his view, but mostly because he looked too delicious to not touch. She tugged at his tee shirt and he took the hint, removing it quickly and tossing it over the edge of the bed. She remembered his body well, but being this close to it, feeling it against her own bare skin, was something quite different. Her body was raging with blood as she ran her hands flat over his chest and stomach, delighting in his crisp hair and hard muscles. His skin felt aflame, making her feel cool in comparison despite the fire within.

He brushed a wayward curl behind her ear and met her eyes. "So lovely... so perfect."

Hermione closed her eyes against the barrage of emotion, wishing with all her heart that he meant the words he said, that they were not forced or false.

Deciding for once in her life to accept her emotions at face value, Hermione arched into the hand that had captured her breast, caressing her flesh and gently pulling her turgid nipple. Her hips were moving of their own volition against his, and he was responding in kind.

When his mouth finally left hers to move down her body, Hermione could only ride out of the sensations: his hot mouth on her nipple, biting and laving, his hand moving down her stomach and pulling her pants down and off. He left her for only a moment to remove his own trousers and underpants, and when he settled atop her again, his hard length was separated from her by only the flimsy barrier of her panties. He kissed both her breasts again before moving down her torso, leaving a cool trail as his tongue anointed her.

He circled her navel, nipping lightly on the skin before moving lower. His fingers preceded him, and he caressed her through the cotton containing her. She writhed at the contact, wanting something she only had a clinical idea about. With one quick motion, her panties were gone, and Sirius was settling between her thighs. He caressed her lower lips reverently, parting the silken curls and sliding a finger down her slit. Hermione tried to still her wayward hips and grasped the sheets in her fingers convulsively. The anticipation was almost more than she could bear when he finally lowered his mouth to her.

Hermione keened as Sirius licked and sucked her clit, using his fingers to circle and caress around her entrance. Hermione didn't know how much of her hymen was actually intact after all the years of hard activity, but she worried he would feel it if he entered her with his fingers. Not wanting to give away her last secret just yet, Hermione leaned down and grabbed his hand just as he was about to enter her, holding his fingers in hers.

Glad to have made that choice, though Sirius looked at her questioningly, Hermione let the waves take her away. She felt a tightening flow through her, her toes curled as the crescendo built and Sirius licked harder and faster until she could stand it no more and came with a wild cry as he firmly sucked on her clit one last time. Her head thrown back, she panted, her hand squeezing Sirius' to a point of near-pain.

He rose up to lie beside her, rubbing her quivering stomach with his hand and kissing her neck. She turned her face to meet his in a kiss, and she could taste the foreign flavour of herself on his mouth and tongue. Sirius devoured her mouth, bringing Hermione down from her cloud with the insistent hardness rutting slowly against her thigh.

Again following her instincts and leaving her rational mind behind, Hermione pushed Sirius onto his back. She placed open-mouth kisses all over his chest; he tasted slightly salty and she couldn't get enough. Circling his nipple with her tongue, she bit lightly and smiled at the groan Sirius didn't even try to hide. She snaked down the length of his body, caressing his heated flesh and nibbling on his belly button just as he had done to hers. His light laugh was cut off when she placed a light lick on his hipbone.

Hermione could no longer avoid what she was about to do. Settling herself between his spread thighs, Hermione took in the sight of him. His cock was rigid and straining, darker than the rest of him. She could see a thick vein on the underside pulsing in time with her own heartbeat. He was very thick, more so than she'd expected and much longer than could fit into her mouth. But she would try.

Too shy to meet Sirius' eyes, she leaned down and swiped the cloudy liquid from the crown. She heard her lover gasp and smiled at her power. She wasn't experienced in this arena, but she had researched...if Playwitch could be considered such.

She swiped a long lave from the base of his cock to the head, swirling her tongue around the plumed tip before surrounding it with her mouth. She sucked gently, bringing one hand to stroke his throbbing shaft and the other to gently caress his silken balls. Sirius gasped her name, and she could feel his eyes on her, watching intently. Under his scrutiny, Hermione felt emboldened rather than embarrassed, and she looked up to meet his gaze.

His face was the picture of pleasure, his mouth open slightly, breathing in heavy gasps, and his eyes were half-lidded and the darkest she'd ever seen them. She sucked a little harder, and his head fell against the pillows, unable to maintain his gaze.

Hermione felt him get even harder beneath her fingers and in response, moved her hand faster, flicking her tongue against the bottom of his head.

"Hermione, I'm going to..." Sirius gasped out, but she wouldn't move. With an animalistic shout, he flooded her mouth and Hermione fought to swallow his come as more came to take its place. Finally, he finished, and Hermione swallowed the last of it. It hadn't tasted as she'd expected, but she would do it again because of the way he was looking at her right now.

Sirius dragged her body up against his. He encircled her with his arms so she was facing him, her breasts pressed firmly against his chest, his hair tickling her sensitive skin.

"You are... amazing, love." His words were husky and sent a thrill through her. She smiled and kissed his lips lightly, but he wouldn't let her pull back and kissed her thoroughly.

"You weren't so bad yourself. But then you probably already knew that." He winked at her, and she had to roll her eyes.

Sirius' leering face was interrupted by an intense yawn, and, watching him, Hermione couldn't resist the one that took her over as well. She had a couple hours before she had to be up for work, so decided to try to get back to sleep.

Sirius watched her breathing slow and even out. She looked ethereal in the moonlight, and he felt a tightening in his chest at how very innocent she looked, how very young. He would always be grateful that it was she who had rescued him, but a part of him hated that he would be taking away her youth, forcing her into a relationship from which her loyalty would not allow her to stray. Sirius' heart had nearly stopped when he'd told her she was free to pursue other men, but she'd reacted as he'd hoped. He'd meant what he said about marrying her, too. He could think of worse matches, that much was certain. Sirius didn't believe in that all-consuming, all-encompassing love from fairy tales. It would be enough for him to enjoy the company of his wife; if she was intelligent, fun, and sexually compatible, that was more than enough for him. And Hermione was all those things and more.

Sirius closed his eyes and sank into the pillows, scratching his chest absentmindedly and trying to ignore the strange feeling in his stomach, a twisting feeling that wouldn't go away. He made a mental to note ask Hermione about the vicious scar on her chest. He'd wanted to before, but though she didn't seem the type to hate imperfections, he hadn't wanted to risk spoiling the mood.

Finally, sleep put an end to his aimless musings.