Work Text:
31st December 2009
“Another Singapore sling and a tray of sours shots, love,” he winked at her suggestively, leaning heavily on the smooth granite bar top.
“Coming right up,” Hermione offered a strained smile and turned back to the bar, reaching for the gin.
She was so tired of all these trust fund babies getting sloshed and then sloppily hitting on her despite actually having zero interest in her at all. Working the VIP bar area in a posh club in Soho was not something she had envisioned for herself, but her PhD and living expenses had to get covered. She wasn’t by any means struggling, but the money inherited at her parents’ death on their holiday in Australia was tied up in assets and savings, and she wasn’t going to dip into them unless she absolutely had to. So for now, she poured the cointreau and the pineapple juice in and got on with making the cocktail this rich prick had asked for.
Gods, Draco fucking Malfoy. He was rich, he was posh, he was what she called a ‘pretty boy’. All tall and lean with a pointy chin most of the waitresses here called ‘handsome’. He was not her type in any way shape or form, and his sleazy compliments were getting on her last nerve. There were bartenders begging to be put on the VIP bar just for a chance to get a taste for the blond’s money, but not her. And for that very reason, Blaise trusted her to work the VIP area with professionalism. While she appreciated his trust in her, it did mean she was saddled with being here Thursday through to Saturday nearly every week. So of course the New Years eve this year just had to fall on a Thursday for her to have to deal with this nightmare.
“Some time today love, maybe if you dropped a few pounds you’d be moving faster,” Malfoy snickered drunkenly as she turned towards him with the tray of shots and started pouring them without a response.
“Here, let me help you, maybe this will go faster,” his hand closed over her hand and he tried to manipulate it to either pour or take the bottle from her.
“Please take your hand off the bottle,” she said calmly but firmly, holding it steady and trying to minimise the Cherry Sours splashing.
“Hey, I’m just helping. Can’t believe they’d let you serve this slowly,” he snickered as he staggered against the bar.
She was about to let the bottle go and just take the hit for the damage when a hand appeared on Draco’s shoulder and pulled him away from her firmly. She managed to hold onto the bottle, just about, as Draco Malfoy was frog-marched away from her.
“Hey, I paid for those drinks! It’s not my fault the dumb bitch can’t pour fast enough!” She could hear him protesting loudly over the music as he was led down the stairs and out.
Hermione took a deep shuddering breath and finished pouring the shots before passing the order to a beautiful brunette with an awkward smile.
“Sorry about him, Drake can be an arse when he drinks. Thank you for your service tonight,” she pushed the side of her bob behind her ear and sashayed away on tall heels. Pansy Nott nee Parkinson, always smoothing things for her dear friend.
Hermione wiped down the bar top and turned to the sink, taking in a shuddering breath. Sure, she was a dumb bitch, because she was working as a bartender in a club. God, the worst part of it was that none of the people here even remembered the fact that they’d all gone to the same school.
While these trust fund babies had a secured spot since birth at Hogwarts, a highly coveted private secondary and sixth form school in Scotland, she got in on an academic scholarship. Even at the age of eleven, her parents knew her potential and with the results of her application tests, she scored the highest in quite at least two decades. Not that anyone cared. With her nose in a book, she had all the time to observe the rich and famous that did just well enough to take over daddy’s business or meet their future husband instead of continuing to university. Pansy Parkinson had been the biggest gossip at school, and always hung out with Draco Malfoy and Theodore Nott. Who could blame her? She had some sort of distant connection to royalty, Draco Malfoy was the heir to a business empire, and Theodore Nott was an actual duke with heritage in legal practice.
Her intelligence may have gotten her into Hogwarts, but she had never fit in. She was too smart, too middle class, too brown quite frankly. And too fat apparently, as Draco Malfoy liked to point out. She shrugged the words off, knowing full well that to some people that was true. She was a curvy size eighteen, so what? Her nan and mum both had been short and curvy, and so was she. She loved her body and she wasn’t about to let some drunk idiot tell her otherwise.
She felt a presence beside her and startled a little bit, before noticing it was Marcus. The handsome security guard took a small step back, raising his palms soothingly before rubbing his fist over his chest to sign he was sorry.
“You have nothing to be sorry for, I was just miles away,” she promised, turning fully to him and raising her fingers to her chin and pulling her hand down to say ‘thank you ’. “For helping with Malfoy,” she clarified, knowing he was the one to pull the drunken fool away.
It is my job , he signed but offered a small smile, letting her know he was there for her.
She returned his smile before vertically bumping her fists and motioning for drink. ‘ Ginger beer?’ It was his favourite non-alcoholic drink while he worked at the VIP station.
He nodded and signed ‘thank you’ as she passed him the can, their fingers meeting had a small shiver run down her spine. His green eyes held hers for a moment longer before he retreated to the end of the bar to stand vigilantly over it while he sipped his drink.
Of all the security guards working at the club, he was her favourite to work with, and she didn’t mind being stuck in work with him this New Year’s Eve. Once a promising rugby player at Hogwarts, he was a legacy placement from an old but no longer very wealthy family. But his career was cut short after an injury that tore his ACL. She heard about his enrollment into the army after their A-levels, and nothing of him since. She remembered him as tall and a bit broad around the shoulders, a bit gangly and still getting used to the growth spurts which were coming on quickly at that age. That was not the man standing beside the bar today. He was easily 6’8”, and as her nan used to say, built like a brick shithouse. Broad shoulders, muscular back and arms that threatened the seams of his blazer, trim waist and thighs that she was just dying to bounce on.
Slow down, Hermione. It’s not like he ever showed any interest in you.
And why would he? They came from two different worlds, and she probably wasn’t his type.
Hold up now, why couldn’t you be his type? You’re gorgeous.
She was thankful for the inner voice reassuring her about herself, but as with everything in life, she had to work hard on keeping that perspective. Academia was no joke, and while the university she taught and studies at was fairly diverse, it was less so on the lecturer side, and she was hoping to be the next chink in that white legacy veneer. That didn’t mean she was impervious to structural racism.
Or to the casual bias with which Black women were regarded in the dating pool. It wasn’t that she was actively trying to date, she was too busy for that. Well, not anymore anyway. She had tried, during her Masters, at least to see what connections she could make. But the dating websites were proof of all the statistics she read so often about. Black women, especially those with wild curly and kinky hair were much less likely to be matched or found desirable by the majority of the dating page occupants. She’d been on three dates in total - one with a drunk posh boy which just pissed her off, another one ended with her having a solo dinner after being stood up, and the last one… well, let’s just say there was a difference between being admired by someone and being fetishised. After the last fiasco, she shut down her profile and resolved to maybe meeting someone nice one day in person. And if that didn’t happen, well fuck it, she was gorgeous and very happy with her own company, thank you very much. Maybe she could get a cat once she completed her PhD…
Marcus approached her as she finished wiping a glass and tossed the can into the bin before once again thanking her for the drink and returning to his station by the steps up to the VIP section.
He was still an enigma to her, but she remembered very vividly the first time she met him again, four months ago when he was applying for the job with Blaise.
“Hermione! Blaise wants you in his office!” Seamus called up the stairs to the VIP section where she was taking inventory, his thick Irish accent making Lavender giggle as she tossed him a wink over her shoulder.
Hermione just rolled her eyes and set her pen down before heading up the stairs to Blaise’s office on the first floor, wondering what he wanted as she adjusted the apron over her light dress and re-tied the headband keeping her mass of curls in an updo and away from her neck. This heatwave needed to calm the fuck down…
After a quick knock, she stepped in, pausing when she noticed Blaise wasn’t alone. “Oh, sorry, I can come back later.”
“No, please do come in, Hermione,” Blaise waved her over, his handsome Italian features pulling into a grin. “I was hoping you could help Marcus and I here.”
Marcus? As in Marcus Flint? She looked at the huge man before them who was wearing a tight pair of black slacks and a short sleeve turtleneck even in this heat. There was not a drop of sweat on him despite the heat, his thick black hair pushed away from his face and tied into a top knot on his head.
“Err hi,” she said lamely and came to stand beside them.
He raised his hand in a wave and mouthed the words ‘Hello’. Oh, that’s why she was here.
“You needed someone who knows BSL?” she asked. “I warn you I’m quite rusty,” she admitted.
“Nonsense, we’ll be fine. Marcus here is mute.”
“Actually the term you’re looking for is speech disability. BSL is a language, Marcus still as a voice,” she pointed out.
Blaise rolled his eyes. “Yes, that. He’s here for an interview for a security role but instead of going back and forth about this on paper, I thought it would be quicker if you translated for us.”
“Interpreted, it’s called interpreting,” she said pointedly before turning to the man before her with a warm smile. “Sorry, as I said, I’m a bit rusty but I will try my absolute best.”
He just observed her for a moment before nodding with a small smile. ‘Fine by me’ he signed.
“We're good to go ahead,” she confirmed for Blaise who picked up his CV.
“Splendid. So, just checking here, you have a nearly two year gap in employment, you only just got your licence and haven’t worked this kind of job before. What qualifications do you bring in for this? I mean, I’m all up for giving a job to a mate, but this isn’t bartending, I need someone sharp, strong, and able to diffuse a situation.”
Marcus raised his hands but looked at Hermione as he signed ‘I was in the army, SAS. For nearly eight years. Diffusing situations and spotting problems and ….’
Hermione was interpreting word for word, pausing on the last one, so he slowed down and spelled it out for her. “Mitigating them, thank you,” she nodded.
‘Yes, mitigating them was part of the role.’
Blaise nodded and set the CV down before looking at Marcus. “Not to be an arse mate, but how will you be able to do that when you can’t speak?”
“Blaise!” Hermione admonished but Marcus chuckled silently, waving to get her attention.
‘It’s fine - valid question. I can work with a partner. I can deal with the physical removal, or call for him to attend a situation that requires speaking to someone.’
Blaise shrugged. “Sounds good to me. I’ll check your references, but seriously, I don’t think anyone will want to fuck with you, voice or no voice.”
Hermione rolled her eyes so hard at his rudeness, she worried they would get stuck in her skull. Blaise wasn’t a bad person, in fact, he was one of the people from her year who despite their wealth was actually fairly down to earth. But he could be rude and crass sometimes.
Marcus saw her eye roll and offered a small smile and a shrug like it didn’t bother him.
“Tell you what, trial run for two weeks on the VIP section. God knows Hermione here can take care of herself but we do get a few unruly customers there when the expensive stuff is flowing. I’ll pair you up with Seamus, he’s a talker but don’t mind him, he’s nice enough. And if you need to communicate anything to the wider team or management, Hermione will help. Right?” he looked at her, all sweet as honey.
“Of course, but I won’t be doing it for you,” she said just as sweetly with a toothy grin.
Blaise only laughed at her candour while Marcus seemed to be suppressing a smile of his own. “Wouldn’t expect anything less from you, love. Thanks for your help, we’ll wrap up here.”
“Sure. Nice to see you again, Marcus,” she offered and he thanked her with a quick sign before waving goodbye.
Ever since, he has established himself as a valuable member of the team, as a lot of the bouncers at the door and main security inside were impressed by his skills and past experience during his service. And he has been invaluable to her. He often worked the same days she did on the VIP section and removed enough people who were harassing her. He never asked for gratitude, and always accepted a ginger bear or some water as thanks enough. Sometimes she felt his focused gaze on her as she dealt with some of the more vocal customers but he always judged well when she actually needed help. And in return she worked on her sign language to improve and expand the way she was communicating with him. For some reason, she was determined to learn as much as she could, and she could feel the way it was becoming so much easier for her to read his cues and expressions, building her vocabulary and their shared communication.
“Hey,” Blaise appeared behind the bar, a little out of breath as if he ran up the stairs. “Heard about Draco, you good?”
“Yeah, fine,” she shrugged and finished chopping the limes she was prepping. “What’s up?”
“Can you pour twenty glasses of champagne and bring them around the VIP tables? It’s nearly midnight and we’ll be starting the countdown in a few minutes.”
“Sure, I’ll get right to it. Are you staying?”
“Yes, I’ll be over there with Theo and Pansy,” he confirmed as he straightened up his cufflinks. “And make sure to pour yourselves some, I’ll have Seamus and Marcus come in for the countdown as well. You’ve all earned a glass having to work tonight.”
“Will do,” she confirmed and started on loading up trays with glasses before getting to the bottles.
Marcus appeared silently beside her and offered to help, opening the bottles for her efficiently as she poured twenty three glasses, leaving theirs aside before distributing the trays around the four tables.
The large disco ball descended over the dancefloor with thirty seconds to go, showing the countdown to a new decade ahead of them. She took a moment, thinking about the year ahead. She was going to finish her PhD and get the hell out of here, ready for new opportunities. 2010 was about to be be her year, she was sure of it.
“This for us? Thanks, love!” Seamus picked up his glass and came to stand with the gathered VIPs at the edge of the platform overseeing the main floor as the countdown began.
10…
9….
8….
She noticed Marcus was still beside her, his glass in his hand and right green gaze looking at her intently.
7…
6….
5…
She picked up her own glass, breaking their gaze only for a second as she reached for it before looking up at him again.
4…
3…
2…
He stepped closer to her and bent down just as the countdown ended and cheers rang out around them. But Hermione could barely hear anything as his arm wrapped around her waist, squeezing the generous curve of her hip with his large hand, and placed a gentle, lingering kiss on her cheek, just shy of her full lips. This close she could smell the delicious heady scent of vetiver and cedar on his skin, and the feel of his short beard against her skin sent tingles down her spine.
He pulled away shortly, and as he still looked into her eyes, mouthed ‘Happy New Year Hermione’.
“Happy New Year, Marcus,” she all but whispered before taking a sip from the sweet bubbly as he still held her close.
It was seconds, very short seconds in her life but for some reason she felt like 2010 was already starting with her feeling different as he finally stepped away from her and set his half-finished glass on the counter before returning to his post with a last lingering look her way. God, she wished they weren’t stuck here for this celebration, but somehow having shared that moment had made it bearable.
She took a deep shuddering breath and downed the rest of her glass before she did a quick round to wipe down tables and tidy up while everyone was still hugging and cheering and finished the prep at the bar, readying herself for two more hours of being on her feet.
Thankfully they passed pretty quickly in between pouring drinks, taking last orders and finally starting on the till count when the last of the patrons were on their way out. She had the bar sorted in no time, money in the safe, generous tips tucked in her pocket, and was about ready to get some fresh air. Maybe just this once she would splurge on a taxi home instead of walking.
"Alright, everyone out! Happy New Year to all, thanks for tonight, and go get your party on! Hermione," he called as he shrugged into his coat. "Lock up for me, would you?"
"Why not, got nowhere else to be anyway," she muttered to herself as she waved him off.
Everything checked and ready for the cleaning crew in the morning, she double-counted the safe before locking up Blaise's office, heading down to the staff room and her locker. Now that she was alone, she quickly shimmied out of the thin sequined tops they were made to wear for the celebration with her tight black skirt, and rifled through her bag for her black thermal long sleeve top. A scuffling noise startled her and she turned around to see Marcus coming around the bend on the men's side, his eyes on his phone before he looked up and spotted her state of half dress. He froze for barely a breath before he turned around on his heel, his back and solid shoulders to her as he faced away to give her privacy.
"T-thanks," she managed and quickly scrambled for her top, pulling it on. "Sorry about that, I'm decent now," she confirmed as she quickly reached in and swiped a bit more deodorant on her pits.
Marcus turned around slowly, his fist pressed to his chest as he signed his apology, but his brilliant green gaze was taking her in as she pulled her hair up into a tighter bun and wrapped a colourful bandana around it to keep it somewhat contained, though it was so thick and abundant it threatened to spill out as always.
"No, it's fine, really. I didn't know anyone else was here. I'm just about to lock-up, you on your way out?" She asked as she zipped up her tote bag and pulled on her coat, looking up to see his response.
I was waiting for you , he signed before adjusting the collar on his handsome black coat which made his broad frame even more impressive.
She blinked, pausing at his words. "You were? Why?" She asked curiously as she pushed her locker closed and stepped closer, having to dip her head back further to see his face at this angle. God, she barely came up to his pectorals.
Drive you home , he replied, and she realised he tilted his head in question rather than issuing a command.
"Uh, sure? I can put my address in your satnav," she offered.
Marcus already knew where she lived, not that he would actually admit to that just yet. If you're tired, sure. Or if you're hungry, I know a place , he offered, wondering if she would agree to spend more time with him outside of work.
She didn't hesitate though, only looked at him for a moment, her brilliant whiskey eyes taking in his features before she smiled his favourite beautiful smile. "I'd like that. I haven't eaten since lunch actually," she admitted.
Can't have that, can we , he signed before opening the door for her and leading her outside, standing close as she locked up and set the alarms after final checks, leading her towards his slightly beaten up Range Rover.
She hid a smile as he opened the passenger door and offered her his hand to help her up into the tall seat. His hand was huge compared to hers, slightly rough and calloused but so warm she didn't want to let go. With a last gentle squeeze to her fingers, he made sure she was settled before closing the door and walking around to get into the driver's seat.
It wasn't a freezing night but the air was chilly, though by the state of undress on the people in the streets, one would think it was summer. Hermione watched the streets pass by in comfortable silence. She didn't feel the need to ask where they were going, for some reason she was content in the comfortable, companionable silence between them as she watched the never sleeping night-time London. She trusted him, she realised, quite implicitly.
Marcus stopped at a red light and allowed himself to look at the woman sitting beside him. This night was weeks in the making. Weeks of telling himself to get a hold of this awe, this need, this want. From the day she greeted him with her brilliant smile in Blaise’s office, he could not stop looking at her. The light blue cotton dress she had worn that day looked lovely against her soft brown skin, those large eyes looking at him with recognition but no judgement as she smiled at him that brilliant smile of hers that made her sweet round cheeks look fucking biteable. She was beautiful, clearly very smart with a sharp tongue, and her no-nonsense attitude with Blaise’s flirting ways and the crap thrown at her in the VIP section was just admirable.
And then he realised he knew her, from school. It took little time for him to do a background check on her, considering his training and his contacts in private security. He wasn't exactly snooping, he told himself, but he did want to know more about her. And her records were quite something. Child prodigy, first class honours degree, Masters with a Distinction in Social Anthropology, PhD candidate, author of several articles and book chapters… she was incredible.
Her background though was much more difficult to read about. Her parents had owned a dental practice and a lovely house in Chelsea. Then they died in a traffic collision with a drunk driver who walked away with only a few scratches, leaving behind a nineteen year old young woman without family. Only child, grandparents long gone and no further relatives alive, she was all alone in the world.
Her two bedroom flat in Soho was paid for when she sold her parent's house, and the sale of their dental practice helped cover all her student fees. Her savings were modest by his family’s standard but she regularly added to them on a monthly basis, and she worked to support herself and keep up with her amusingly fierce reading habit. Her library membership only went so far judging by the transactions from several local bookshops.
He told himself he was just curious when he read through that file and then promptly disposed of the evidence, but something about her just kept drawing him in. First it was fascination with the way she put the drunken trolls and Blaise’s flirting ass in their place, then he was just warmed by her continuous effort to be completely inclusive of him within the space they shared, and last but not least, he really started noticing the finer details about her.
The way she always adjusted her tight skinny jeans over that plush arse and soft round belly when she had a moment behind the bar. The rich colours she wore to offset her sparkling gaze, the incredible wild curls he was dying to sink his fingers into. The way she sometimes nibbled on the edge of her thumb, lost in a book during her break and forgetting all about eating the homemade meal she usually brought with her. The always present outline of a small pot of her lip balm in the back pocket whenever she wore jeans. She once offered him some and out of curiosity he took her up on the offer. Cocoa butter and vanilla. He kept licking his lips until there was none left and wondered all night long if that’s how sweet she would taste if he were to kiss her right then and there.
She earned his respect, had his awe, and stirred his need. She was everything he could have asked for in a woman, and she was just his type - fierce and deliciously soft and round in all the right places he wanted to touch.
A honk from the car behind them let him know he had idled too long and the light had turned green as he finally focused back on the road and drove them towards one of his favourite places. He helped her out of the car and led her around the corner. It didn’t look like much, a simple dark door tucked into a dark alley.
Hermione paused and looked up at him with a raised brow. “Just to let you know, in case this is an elaborate way to murder me, that my phone is sharing my location and my DNA is in your car,” she said drily.
He huffed a laugh and instinctively pulled her closer into his side, pointing to the door on the side and the small sign to it.
Hermione still looked suspicious but she allowed him to lead her towards it and guide her inside. They took a few steps down into a cosy space with simple dark tables with white tablecloths and the delicious smell of pasta and burning logs.
It was virtually empty at this hour, only a silvering woman was seated close to the bar, clearly going through the books as she marked receipts and counted them.
“Erm, are you sure we should be here?” Hermione asked softly but her voice must have carried as the woman turned at the sound of her question, a broad smile splitting her face.
“Marcus! How lovely to see you, darling,” she got off the chair and hurried to them, her petite frame swallowed by Marcus’ gentle hug.
She was only an inch or so taller than Hermione but she was slender and elegant in her wide leg trousers and soft cashmere jumper. She looked a bit familiar, her silvering blond hair swept up in a bun and sparkling blue eyes kind but sharp as she took Hermione in. “And who is this?”
“Hello, I’m Hermione. Marcus’ colleague,” she introduced herself and shook the woman’s hand politely.
“Hermione as in Hermione Granger?” she asked with a curious gaze, taking her in.
“Uhm, yes?” she answered, feeling like she was missing something.
“Well, I finally got to meet the lovely young lady who managed to get my Adrian through his chemistry exams,” she smiled broadly.
“Adrian…Pucey? Are you Mrs Pucey?” Hermione wasn’t sure how she’d missed it but the woman before her had the same sweet dimples and sparkling eyes as the young blond man who had filled the audience of the fencing championship with all the girls from her dorm dreaming of getting a date with the school champion.
“Oh I’m so sorry, dear. Where are my manners? Yes, I am Mrs Pucey but please do call me Ariana. Here, why don’t you grab a table, I’ll get Adrian to come say hello,” she ushered them to one of the larger tables that would accommodate Marcus’ height but even with the extra legroom his thighs were a tight fit.
“It’s a bit silly that the world isn’t made for anyone outside the standard proportions,” she mused as her own feet dangled from the chair and she was quite certain her bum was wider than the seat she was perched on.
Marcus’ smile was amused as his leg shifted and she felt his foot wind around the bottom rung of her chair before pulling her closer towards him. It was a simple silent gesture, but something about it made her face heat into a lovely blush darkening her soft brown skin.
“Hermione! It’s been ages! Happy new year!” Adrian practically burst from the double doors leading to the kitchen in the back, his chef whites splattered with sauce and something dark that looked like chocolate. He still looked much the same but more refined with age. His chin was sharper, hair swept back and cut neatly, and eyes sparkling in amusement as he looked at them.
“Hi Ade, Happy New Year to you too,” she smiled, glad to see him clearly happy in the family restaurant.
She accepted a quick hug, though for some reason felt Marcus tense beside her. She looked at him briefly but his features were relaxed if a bit tight around the edges as he reached up and clasped hands with the blond.
“My man, this is the first time you’ve ever brought anyone with you,” Adrian grinned at his blushing friend before turning back to Hermione. “I take it you’ve finally agreed to go on a date with him?” he asked before yelping, the sound of Marcus’ leg shifting under the table leaving Hermione in no doubt that he just kicked Ade in the shin.
She turned to look at Marcus, the pale skin above his beard rosy with a blush as he looked at the table, avoiding her gaze as she took him in. “Well, I guess here we are.”
Wait, what? Bad Hermione! What if- She shushed her inner voice, wanting to see how this would play out. Did he really want to invite her out for a date? Was this an attempt at one?
While Marcus still avoided her gaze, she looked back to Adrian and Ariana. “Is the kitchen closed or is there any chance for some food?”
“Oh don’t you worry about that, I’ll feed you, lovely. Any allergies?” Ade asked, already rubbing his hands together eagerly.
She shook her head. “No allergies. Fish or shellfish is preferred if possible.”
“Done. Wine or cocktails?”
Hermione shrugged. “Know how to make an Italian 75?”
“Oh boy do I,” Ade grinned. “Gin or just Limoncello?”
“Just Limoncello, extra shot of lemon juice please,” she nodded.
“I’ll get you your usual Marcus,” Ade nodded and left them to it as Ariana returned to the table with her receipts, easily giving them the space and privacy to talk.
Silence descended over their table and she started to wonder whether they would slip into awkwardness when Marcus finally looked at her, raising his fist to his chest. I’m sorry, that didn’t go as planned.
She chuckled. “Which part?”
The date bit. I wanted to ask you out before tonight, he admitted.
“You did?” she hated that she sounded a bit hopeful before wrangling her emotions back under. “Why didn’t you?” she asked instead, as her cocktail and Marcus’ sparkling water arrived at their table, Ade’s presence fleeting as if he didn’t wish to interrupt the fine balance between them at this moment.
Marcus waited for him to move back into the kitchen, eyes tracking his progress before he turned back to her, his deep green gaze warm and intent as he replied.
I didn’t know if this…was mutual. And I didn’t want to mess up us working together.
She contemplated him for a moment, touched by his thoughtfulness towards their situation. “It is mutual,” she replied softly, feeling the words leave her lips before she really gave them leave but now that they were out, she would own them. She liked Marcus, admired his character and he was most certainly gorgeous. She wanted to get to know him better, to see whether this instinctive trust and closeness she felt to him was true.
His gaze darkened further as he watched her expression, taking in her features and the truth of her words in, his shoulders relaxing minutely at her admission.
“So why now? Why did you ask me to come with you tonight?”
Marcus paused, his fingers curling around his glass, thumb rubbing at the condensation building up across the cool glass as he contemplated her question. Yes, what was special about tonight? He couldn’t quite tell what prompted him, perhaps the moment between them in the changing room just had him realising he’d been a coward. He knew she was beautiful but seeing her half dressed even for a moment made him want to feel her in his arms and he just had to take the chance, even if it was just to drive her home to make sure she got there safely.
I was hoping you would enjoy my company a bit longer. And maybe find out if you would allow me to invite you on a date.
“Is this not one then?” she asked, smiling as she took a sip of her drink, his gaze landing on her lips as she sucked down on the straw slowly, humming at the bitterness and sharpness of the light cocktail. Ade definitely knew his stuff.
Would you like it to be? He countered, head tilting slightly as he observed her, gaze still intent on her response.
She realised she liked it a bit too much, this silent regard of his that made her feel very seen without stripping her bare. No one has ever been so aware of her or looked at her that way. “Well, I’m usually a bit better dressed up for a date, but this is nice," she admitted. She didn't need fancy restaurants and grand gestures. All she ever wanted in a partner to be treated with respect, cherished, and for him to make time for her. Marcus was doing just that this evening so why wouldn't this count? This could be a date.
The warmth of Marcus' smile made her breath hitch as he leaned closer minutely and signed something she'd never seen him sign before.
You are beautiful…you always are.
She felt the blush rising on her cheeks. Thank you , she signed earnestly before getting her act together, her smile turning teasing. "Next time though, give me some notice and I might find my red salsa dress somewhere in my wardrobe," she teased.
Next time? I like the sound of that.
He smiled in turn and reached for her hand on the table, giving it a little squeeze.
Their food arrived shortly, a ragu pasta dish for Marcus and a stunning spaghetti allo scoglio for her. Adrian was clearly gifted in the kitchen. She wondered how he ended up there despite being on track for a medical degree. Perhaps a question for another time.
Marcus ate with gusto but with manners, clearly hungry, and she couldn't blame him considering his sheer size and the long evening they just had. He paused to ask her the occasional question about her degree, teaching, before they took turns swapping stories from travels.
"Wow, I didn't know you were so well travelled, that's incredible," Hermione smiled as she sat back contentedly and finished her drink, reaching for the tall sharing bottle of water.
Marcus picked it up and poured her a glass gallantly before sitting back. Yes, I have seen many places, but will not be visiting most again.
"Because you visited them during service?" She asked softly, wondering whether it was a safe topic to start, not wanting to cause any flashbacks or discomfort.
He looked at her for a long moment, his gaze distant, seeing through her rather than actually seeing her as he nodded.
S-A-S , he spelled out for her, as he had the first day in Blaise’s office. I can't talk about it much. All confidential missions. The training was brutal but needed. Some missions were more difficult than others. My last mission left me like this , he motioned at his chest, throat and face vaguely.
Hermione ran her eyes over his chest and face, taking him in. "Broad, strong and bearded? Must have been some mission," she said with a small teasing smile, trying to lighten the mood.
He tilted his head with an amused smile at that comment but shook it a moment later, looking down at his empty plate before him. Could he do this? Should he show her now before he got even more drawn to her? He looked around the room. Ade was busy in the kitchen and Ariana had retreated into the back to speak to him about something so they were alone. Now was a good time.
He wore turtlenecks regularly for a reason. The stares were otherwise quite overwhelming despite the short beard he was growing to try and cover it. It wasn't a pretty scar, but he was alive and they managed to stitch him up together. He could still sometimes feel the knife that stuck his throat, very close to the artery and spine but just far enough to do damage to his laryngeal nerves and muscles in his neck instead. Recovery had been hell. He was lucky to be able to breathe and eat without major issues. But the scars littering his body were not for everyone, especially not this one. And if Hermione pulled away after seeing this, he wouldn't blame her.
He took a deep breath, knowing this would be the deal breaker. Reaching up with both hands, he pulled the edge of the turtleneck down to his collarbone, baring it all as he tilted his head back slightly.
Hermione sat still, her whiskey gaze on his eyes before they slowly slid down his face, past his lips to settle on his neck. She looked at it straight on, without fear or judgement, just taking him in for a long moment. The scarring was healed, it has been two years since the injury, two years that had been plenty of time to recover from the worst of the nightmares, the PTSD, and to learn how to communicate anew. Recover but never quite repair. He was used to people flinching, grimacing, asking him to cover up. But this woman just sat there and took him in calmly, studying every inch of revealed skin.
Unnerved by her lack of response, he pulled the turtleneck back up and sat back in his seat, creating some distance between them.
Hermione reached for his hand on the table slowly, squeezing it gently with her small hand, rubbing warmth back into the cool skin. It almost felt like a physical reaction to baring himself this way and she let her thumb rub circles over his knuckles.
"I don't want to give you platitudes. You were a soldier, you know pain and hardship. But that looks very painful, and it must have taken a lot of time to recover and get used to a different way of living and communicating. That takes a lot of courage and I admire that," she said softly but with clarity and without judgement.
It doesn't bother you? He asked before lacing their fingers as he waited for her verdict.
Hermione shook her head. "Not in the slightest. We all have scars, some more visible than others. Uhm," she shifted, looking down at her top which covered most of the damage. "I'm not sure how much you saw, in the changing room, but I have a scar across my chest, from heart surgery when I was younger. I'm all fine now, just to clarify, but the scar will always be there. Does that bother you?"
He shook his head immediately, a clear and simple no. Didn’t even notice it. Not that I was trying to look… he paused a bit awkwardly, making her chuckle at the way he tried to reassure her that he hadn’t seen too much though they both knew he had seen plenty in those scant seconds they stood across from each other.
She nodded, satisfied with the lack of hesitation. "Good, well, I guess as they say, I'll show you mine if you show me yours," she added, not wanting to come across too eager but something about Marcus made her want to stay close, get even closer, and find out more about the man behind the scars and those brilliant green eyes.
He squeezed her hand affectionately, just looking into her eyes as he thanked God for putting this incredible woman into his path.
“Dessert for the lovebirds?” Ade appeared beside them, shattering the fond silence between them.
Hermione looked to Marcus to see what he would prefer. She could go for a good tiramisu but as nice as it was to see Ade, she craved privacy for this moment with the man.
Marcus looked at her in turn, not wanting to be too forward and assume his welcome but asked nonetheless. We could get some dessert to go? If you’d like…to spend some more time together.
“Perfect,” Hermione nodded. “Please tell me your desserts are as gorgeous as your mains.”
Ade beamed at the praise before winking at her cheekily. “The things I can do with cream will have you coming back every week.”
“Sold, but we’ll have them to go if we can. Tiramisu for me then please,” she turned to Marcus who listed two fingers to ask for two portions.
“Coming right up,” Ade took their plates and sashayed back into the kitchen.
Hermione reached for her purse to pay her portion of the meal but Marcus stopped her hand gently and shook his head. I have a tab here, Ade and I go way back. I have this covered. Your company was the best part of the meal, thank you.
She squeezed his hand gently before putting her purse away with a quick thank you , and got up to put on her coat as Ade came back with a bag filled with take away cartons and spoons for them to dig in. “There you go you two, have a lovely rest of your night, or morning I guess, and have fun starting the new year, yeah?” he winked at them as they waved their goodbyes.
“Is he always like that?” Hermione asked as they came back up to the street, making Marcus chuckle quietly, a soft somewhat hoarse sound escaping his damaged throat in amusement.
She wanted to hear it again.
Marcus nodded. Most of the time, though he has as much to work through as I do. He just uses the kitchen to do it. It was a statement and he wasn’t sharing any more details so Hermione let the topic drop as he helped her back into the car and secured the dessert between them on the bench seat.
He paused, looking at his satnav before looking back at her. They’d committed to spend more time together with the take away dessert but he wasn’t about to invite himself over to her flat if she wanted to share it somewhere else. But once again she surprised him as she asked for the console and typed her address, not that he didn’t know well where they were going.
You sure? He asked as he started up the car, waiting for her consent before moving.
Hermione held his gaze before nodding. “I’m sure. You did promise me a ride home and my flat is much warmer than trying to eat this in a park.”
With that settled, he shifted into gear and started on the way to her flat. It wasn’t too far, only about fifteen minutes this time of early morning as he barely looked at the satnav and made his way through the streets. He didn’t quite know where to park but she leaned closer and pointed out an empty spot beside the block of flats that housed hers. They made quick work of getting out of the car and into her flat, Hermione leading the way as she opened the door and held it open for him in invitation before walking around the sitting room, turning a few lights on to give the room a soft glow.
Her flat was cosy and lively at the same time, with soft sage green walls, a large brown sofa, and a six-seat dining table covered by books, articles and other little academic debris. It was clearly the spot where she liked to study. The small kitchen was separated from the main space by an island and wide-seat bar chairs that looked very comfortable, the soft buttery yellow walls contrasting pleasingly with the earthy tones of the main space and warm wood flooring. He wasn’t sure why but he felt instantly welcome in her space.
Marcus followed her lead and took off his shoes, following her into the space as she turned towards the kitchen where she started plating up their dessert and popped the kettle on.
“Drink?” she asked, looking up from rummaging in the take away bag for their forks, and nodded to his request for tea.
She opened one of the overhead cabinets which was filled with various tea boxes and tea caddies, and contemplated them for a moment before reaching for a Lady Grey caddy and turned to him in invitation to choose. He pointed to the one in her hand, intrigued as he watched her move around the kitchen, readying metal tea infusers for the loose tea leaves as she hummed to herself softly, likely not conscious of the soft tune. He leaned his hip against the kitchen island and just watched her, wondering whether he would get a chance to watch her do this again. He wanted to, he really did, because if this night showed him anything so far, this woman was perfect for him and he would do damn near anything to show her he could be the man for her.
He stepped up close to her back, feeling her pause in step as she took in his closeness, and leaned down to grab the two plates, their bodies pressed against each other for a breath before stepping away. He watched her shudder at the loss of his body heat before gripping the tea strainers and taking them out of the cups, her hands steady but hurrying through the process as if she was hurrying to get back to his side.
With a pleased smile, he carried the plates to the coffee table and sat down, feeling his broad frame sink into the soft sofa pleasingly. With a quick flick to the remote, he had the TV on and browsed the channels until he came across a rerun of the 30s version of The Hound of Baskerville, leaving it on as Hermione padded over to settle beside him.
“Are you an Arthur Conan Doyle fan?” she asked with a surprised smile.
He shrugged. I like detective books and films, it’s a classic and watching a black and white version adds to the spooky feeling.
She sat down beside him, not too close but not nearly far, and cradled her hot cup of tea between her hands. “I like these…I used to watch them with my dad. He was a huge Basil Rathbone fan. And Agatha Christie's Poirot as well, he used to love those early episodes from the nineties,” she admitted softly.
Marcus looked down at her and pulled his arm up, patting his chest in invitation to see if she would take the offered comfort. And Hermione didn’t hesitate, scooting over carefully to settle against his board side, feeling his arm come down to pull her closer and his large hand slide over her belly to hold her close.
She wasn’t sure how she felt about that, and tried to decide whether to suck it in a bit, but with a careful sip of the hot tea, she decided to let it go. He had seen her curves, she never hid them, and he was only feeling what he knew was there already. If he didn’t want to touch her soft belly, he wouldn’t have offered to hold her and pulled her close so deliberately. And though she wasn’t small, his hand was so large it spanned from her ribs down to the curve of her belly, his thumb caressing a soothing rhythm just below the valley between her generous breasts.
It was a familiar touch, one that shouldn’t feel so natural after just a night spent in this closeness, but she wasn’t about to lie to herself. This attraction between them has been there from the moment he walked back into her life. This night was four months in the making, and she wasn’t about to question how she felt in his presence. Her instincts very rarely failed her, and she had a very good feeling about this man. They ate their dessert and sipped their tea as the hours grew early and the skies began to lighten.
She didn’t even realise they’d fallen asleep, still in their clothes from work until she woke up stretched out atop his broad frame, her head cradled by his shoulder, a heavy callused hand gently holding onto the back of her neck. She blinked her eyes open slowly, laying still and taking in their position on the sofa as she listened to the steady beat of his heart beneath her ear. He was stretched out on his back on the narrow cushions, her bum resting against the backrest as he had placed himself between her and the door. His body cradled her safely and closely, her raised thigh rested across his lap, and her chin was tucked in just above his sternum. With their height difference, she was the length of his torso and her stretched out leg barely reached his knee. She loved it though, feeling precious in his hold. Her leg shifted a little and she paused as a soft rasp left his throat at the movement across what was clearly his erection.
She could feel the firm length pressing into her soft thigh, thick and very much awake, and felt her own body reacting to the proximity. Her breath hitched as she shifted her leg to not press against him so close but his arms around her tightened and his hand slid down to her thigh, holding her just as she was.
Marcus shifted beneath her and she lifted her head to look at him. He was awake and watching her intently, his usually bright green gaze darkened into a deep emerald colour that threatened to steal her breath. He waited a few moments longer to see if she would pull away before his grip on her tightened and he seamlessly pulled her a couple of inches higher until their lips were but a breath away. And yet he waited, giving her time to give her consent.
Hermione couldn't have pulled away if she tried, her tongue peaking out to lick her lips, the movement drawing his gaze before he finally couldn't take the stalemate and pulled her into a kiss that had her thigh tightening against his frame in reflex. God, you’d think she hadn’t been kissed before, and it was true, she hadn’t, at least not like this. His lips were soft and plush as they captured hers, but there was a firmness to their hold, like he couldn’t help himself but want to taste her while he held her gently, with reverence. A soft moan slipped from her lips at the feel of his hold on her and she found herself climbing atop him to get closer, just one more kiss to get another taste.
His arms tightened on her waist as he pulled her to settle her full weight atop him and wrapped his arms around her back, holding her neck close as their kiss deepened, his other hand reaching down to squeeze her generous hip. That soft raspy sound from his throat caressed her lips as they briefly separated and she nipped his lip teasingly, wanting to hear it again.
His eyes were dark as obsidian now, full of need for more as he tilted her head with his thumb and claimed her lips in another kiss, showing her his hunger for her. And instead of being afraid of feeling his need, she pressed closer and gave as good as she got, sucking on his tongue gently as she raked her fingers through his long black tresses. His hair was thick but soft beneath her touch, and she relished the broad frame beneath her. It has been far too long since she came by another’s touch and the way this man held her promised her pleasure.
A surprised squeak left her as he suddenly stood, holding her securely in his arms, one hand firm and large on her curvy arse.
“Marcus…I’m heavy, let me down,” she panted as he looked around and headed for her bedroom.
He looked down at her with a frown and his hand squeezed the cheek in his secure hold, rubbing her heated loins across his length firmly, making them both shudder with pleasure. No , he mouthed softly and stepped into her bedroom, kicking the door shut as he carried her to bed. As she lay beneath his solid frame, his arms braced on either side of her head, she watched him pause, waiting despite the hunger in his eyes.
Waiting for her, she knew.
Waiting for her explicit consent because she could tell he was the kind of man to never push himself onto a woman. She could see he was holding back, not wanting to overwhelm her with his size, with his want.
She reached up and cupped his cheek, nails digging into the short beard gently to scratch at the skin beneath, making his eyes close in silent delight for a moment as he continued to wait.
“Is this too fast? I want you…want to feel you,” she admitted.
The gravely sounds that escaped him were ragged as he shook his head and lifted his hand to take hers and press it against his chest to feel how fast but strong his heart was feeling. And she knew at that moment, he was telling her he was hers if she wanted him. She didn’t know why or how she had this intrinsic understanding of him but she leaned up to kiss him this time, feeling him finally let go of the restraints he placed on himself.
She should have felt self-conscious as he undressed her, not impatiently but with purpose. At least she shaved earlier before her shift, and he already knew she was curvy, but she hadn't even showered when she got in after her shift as usual. As he got up and shucked his turtleneck, she paused, taking him in. God he was a gorgeous man, and she could see the warrior in him, in the set of his shoulders, the scars of war, the firm muscle beneath his pale skin.
He noted her hesitation as he reached for his trousers and paused, brow raised and silent question in his eyes to check if she was okay. She fiddled with the strap of her bra and pointed to the bathroom.
"Uhmm…could we maybe shower? It was a long shift and I need to get out of these tights," she admitted.
A cheeky grinned and proceeded to unbutton his trousers before shucking them, leaving him in tight black boxers that did absolutely nothing to hide the hard length bursting to get out and reach her.
Her eyes widened at the size. She had felt him earlier but now she could actually see all of him. Suspicions confirmed, Marcus Flint was large. Everywhere.
Just as she thought he would ignore her request, he leaned down and picked her up like she weighed nothing, carrying her to the en suite like a new bride. The thought made her giggle a little and he shot her wink as he set her down on the closed lid of the loo before looking at the decent sized bathroom. And that's when she realised that her shower was rather tight for the behemoth of a man before her.
He looked at her bathtub and she saw him contemplate it for a moment before he turned the taps and started filling it, adding a bit of her shower gel to add a bit of bubbles. She had never questioned the size of it before but had always been grateful it was large enough to hold her curves comfortably. She wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth now either.
"You think you call fold yourself into that tub, big guy?" She teased.
He waggled his brows at her comically and it was such a different expression to his usual intense focus she burst out laughing at his antics. It felt good to laugh with him and see the goofy side to the usually serious demeanour.
He crooked his finger at her when the bath was drawn and pointed at her tights and underwear, the last items shielding her modesty. They clearly had to go and to buy just a bit more time she started by unwrapping her hair from the bandana and letting her wild curls down before wrestling them into a tighter messy bun atop her head. When she looked into the mirror she was treated to the sight of Marcus' firm arse as he shucked his boxers and got into the bath, the glimpse of his proud cock making her shudder in anticipation.
In the end, she decided that if he could be brave, so could she, so she shucked the tights, released the clasp of her bra, groaning as the straps came down at the wonderful feeling of being free of the bloody torture device. She pulled down her knickers and straightened up, seeing Marcus' intense gaze taking her in.
She was short and curvy, her round belly was a little uneven on one side, and the pale scar that ran across her chest from the surgery was very much visible against her darker skin. She could stand there and name all her flaws and wonky bits, but the heat and wonder in her man's eyes propelled her forward.
Your man? Is he now?
She shushed the intrusive inner voice though it sounded teasing this time.
The thought left her quickly when she saw Marcus barely fit into the bathtub with his long legs, but he shifted to press against the edge and patted his lap, wanting her to get in and sit on him. She groaned internally as that would put her arse right in his face when she sat down, but an image of him fucking her into the mattress as he arse bounced off his flat belly flashed in her mind and she stepped in, carefully lowering herself into the hot water.
Thankfully he hadn't filled it too much or they would be splashing all over the place, but still it was a tight fit as she settled on his thighs and leaned back against him.
He breathed her in, pressing a kiss to her shoulder as he reached for her sponge and lathered it up before running it over her skin gently. She loved the contrast of his pale arms wrapped around her, touching her dark skin. They looked good together, she felt right in his embrace. He reached her knees, gently adjusting her to press closer as he ran the sponge up her thighs, washing the skin and heightening her desire.
He was so close to where she wanted him but retreated back above the water just as she thought he would touch her. Gentle kisses tickled her shoulder and neck and she squirmed in his hold, eliciting a raspy sound from him as she felt his cock wedge closer between her cheeks and against her lower back. He finally dropped the sponge and his fingers delved beneath the water to caress her inner thigh, inching higher when she let her thighs fall open a bit more.
He squeezed the curve of her inner thigh and nipped her neck appreciatively before finally reaching the slick folds and caressed her slit teasingly, feeling her with gentle relish. She squirmed in his hold, a soft moan slipping past her lips as she pressed into his touch, feeling needful and ready to take the pleasure he was sure to wring from her.
His hand hooked under her knee and he opened her up further as his fingers delver further between her folds, flicking her clit teasingly as she shuddered atop him. His nose nudged her cheek and she turned her head, landing a messy kiss on his lips at this angle, feeling the slight burn from his beard on her soft skin. She wanted to wear that beard burn on her thighs and the thought made her only more eager to feel him. She reached down and pressed his hand lower, encouraging him to fill her.
Marcus didn't hesitate and pressed one of his thick fingers inside her molten heat, his expression shuttering at the feel of her tight heat. Fuck, he would loose it in seconds if he wasn’t careful. No, Hermione's pleasure came first and he was greedy to see her come on his fingers, his tongue and on his cock.
He teased her with a gentle thrust of his finger, feeling her eagerness and need feeding this beast inside him. The beast that wanted to see her shutter until she could take no more. He pulled his finger out carefully and pressed back in with two, feeling her stretch to accommodate him a little, the soft folds parting for him as she arched in his hold and groaned at the feel of him delving deeper, his fingers crooking inside to find that raised rough patch of her spot. He knew he found it a moment again when she cried out and thrust her hips against his touch.
She was glorious in her pleasure, this veritable goddess in his arms, so soft, so perfect to fit his large hands he couldn't get enough of feeling her body against his. His thumb strummed across her clit as he built the speed of his thrusting fingers, feeling her starting to flutter around his touch.
That's it beautiful, give it to me, I want to see you come for me… he wanted to tell her, the words on the edge of his tongue but he couldn't see her, could speak the words.
But she was right there, twisting her body slightly to look at him as she panted softly across his lips, her dark gaze sparkling with pleasure and he knew she could read them across his face. She was close, he could feel it and he nipped her lip as he twisted his fingers, buried them deeper and rubbed over her spot firmly as his nail grazed her clit lightly.
She went off with a strangled cry like fireworks on Guy Fawkes night, her eyes shuttering as she trembled with pleasure, her body tightening around him and pulsing with wave after wave of pleasure. He held her close as she came back to him, taking in great lungfuls of breath as her body continued to shake with the aftershock of her orgasm.
He kissed her soft cheek as he held her close, gently slipping from the hold of her body to caress her hip and rounded belly soothingly. He couldn't get enough of feeling her, so luscious and perfect in his arms. His hold on her middle tightened as he carefully stood them up in the tub, the water sloshing a bit over the side as he held her steadily until she found her balance and he was sure she wouldn't fall.
He got out and wrapped a towel around his hips before taking her towel off the radiator and wrapping it around her as he picked her up from the bath and gently set her down on the bathmat that thankfully soaked up most of the spillage. She let him dry her off gently, giggling as he rubbed her ticklish side before reaching up to press her hands to his chest, feeling his solid hot muscles shift beneath his skin as he dried them off.
Despite her earlier orgasm taking the edge off her need, she still felt needy, wanting to feel him inside her. “Bed…” she breathed across his lips before he took them in a devouring kiss, dropping the towels where they stood as he reached for her thighs and picked her up, relishing her wrapping herself around him.
Her back barely hit the bed before she was splayed for his pleasure and he leaned down to pluck at her nipples with his lips and teeth, making her squirm for more. He made his way down her body, kissing her belly before breathing in her musky arousal and diving in with his tongue, licking her from tailbone to clit with utmost relish. She had never been worshipped thus, never felt like she was a man’s singular focus, her pleasure his only purpose. But Marcus’ dark gaze found hers over the curve of her belly and she saw the hungry beast within him, promising to devour her until she couldn’t walk.
He pressed his tongue inside her hungrily, lapping up her arousal as his thumb circled her clit before flicking and pinching it as she eagerly rubbed her folds across his face. She was soaking into his beard and he wished he could always wear her across his face as he nuzzled into her and leaned up to suck on her clit.
She arched in his grasp and cried out at the stimulation, the slight edge of pain of it only feeding her pleasure as she splayed her thighs wider, feeling his fingers eagerly coming back to her folds and pressing inside her. She couldn’t think, couldn’t speak, this pleasure was her whole world as his fingers thrust into her roughly and his lips sucked on her clit sharply to push her over the edge. Her world tilted on its axis and she felt the dam burst, soaking his face and chest as she shook with the onslaught of mind-numbing pleasure.
Fuck, this woman will be the death of me..but what a way to go , Marcus groaned internally as he drank her up, pulling back to press his hand across her belly and wring every last drop from her, his fingers and forearm absolutely soaking from her orgasm.
He withdrew gently and jogged into the bathroom to pick up one of the discarded towels, rubbing himself down quickly before gently patting her dry and sliding the towel under her hips to capture any last trickles.
Hermione rolled her head to look at him blearily, slow to come down from the spectacular peak. If she had expected him to just shove his way in now that she’d had her pleasure, she was in for a surprise as he lay beside her and moved her legs down to stretch out from the scrunched position, rubbing her hip soothingly as she turned to curl against his firm chest and felt him hold her closer, adjusting the towel beneath them carefully.
“That…I haven’t…” she tried to express she’d never felt her body do such a thing but he only shushed her with a kiss to her forehead as he reached back and tugged on the duvet to cover them both as their skin cooled.
She pulled back a bit to allow him space to sign as she looked into his eyes, still dark with need but soft with affection that she hadn’t felt directed at her in a long time.
“I haven’t been with anyone for a while,” she admitted with a wince but he only reached up to cup her cheek, caressing it soothingly despite the sting of that admission. “What I mean is..I’m clean, and I am on the pill, if you want to-”
He leaned in and kissed her deeply, nipping her bottom lip before looking into her eyes.
I haven’t been with anyone in years. I knew it would be worth the wait. For you. He signed and pulled her closer to kiss her again, gathering her close to pull her atop him but she stopped him and tugged on his shoulder, wanting to feel his weight pressing into her as they came together in the bright morning light coming through the still open drapes.
Are you sure? His eyes were asking, looking down at her short form and the bulk of his body.
Her smile was brilliant as she nodded eagerly and her hands travelled the length of his lean sides before cupping his firm arse and digging her nails into the cheeks to pull him closer to her soaking heat.
His eyes shuttered as he pushed her open wide for the breadth of his hips and rubbed his hard length across her wet slit, knowing she would feel incredible. And Hermoione couldn’t wait to feel him, eagerly arching up to rub against him, feasting her eyes on her behemoth. She kissed his chest, right where his heart was trying to beat its way out of his chest before licking the rugged rosette of a bullet hole on his shoulder and finally leaned up to press a kiss to the scar on his throat, laving him with her attention as he had honoured her body with his.
She reached between them, running her hands over his tight abs and into the short thicket of dark coarse curls at the base of his cock before slipping her hand around the head, feeling it beading with his desire already. She struggled to wrap her hand around his girth and groaned at the prospect of the stretch of her body around him.
“In me, Marcus…please, I want to feel you,” she wrapped her arms around him as her heels dug into his back and she encouraged him to finally join them.
He wouldn’t have her pleading for him. If he could, he would give her the fucking moon in this moment, so he reached down to align himself properly, feeling her wet slick already coating him well as he began pressing inside her slowly. His jaw dropped at the feel of her delicious heat, the fluttering walls softer than anything he’d felt before as he inched inside her, feeling her parting for him.
Hermione’s breath stuttered as she felt him filling her carefully, her body ready to burst and he wasn’t even fully inside yet. He leaned on his elbow and bent down to kiss her hungrily, his other hand sliding beneath her hips to angle her just a bit higher for him, giving him the angle to slide into her fully.
He held still to let her adjust to him as he watched her mouth open on a pant, her body fluttering around him already at the way he filled her so completely.
Mine , the beast within him growled and he couldn’t wait a moment longer as he began thrusting his hips gently, feeling her relax around him but clinging to his length on every downstroke as if she never wanted him to leave her.
She couldn’t get enough of the soft puffed breaths close to her ear as he took her so thoroughly, her whimpering moans only feeding his need as his hips pulled back and snapped inside her with more strength, making her cry out in abandon. He leaned up to look right into her eyes, licking across her lips before taking them in a kiss she would never forget as their bodies met time and time again in a rhythm old as time.
She was being claimed, ruined for anyone else and she clung to him tighter, wanting him to know she was claiming him just as much. They had all the time in the world to get to know each other more, but he’d already shown her tonight the man he was, the man he would always be to her, and she wanted it with every fibre of his being.
She leaned up and nipped the tender skin just below his ear. “You going to give it to me…fill me with your cum…make me yours Marcus..I want it,” she panted, feeling his shoulders trembling with the strain as she reached between them and rubbed her clit eagerly, wanting to come with him.
He looked at her with so much heat she felt scorched to the bone as his hips fucked her harder, deeper, reaching a deep spot within her that had her arching in his holding and rubbing her clit all the more eagerly.
“So close…come with me..” she pleaded and he nipped her lips roughly as he felt her fluttering around him before she peaked one more time, squeezing him so tight he couldn’t hold back any longer if he tried, thrusting into her sharply and keeping her orgasm going as she trickled around his length as he pressed rope after rope of his come inside her.
“Fuck..yes!” she gripped his hair tightly and rode out every second of the pleasure they were able to wring out of each other before she collapsed back on the bed, shuddering as he slid out of her gently and eased back on his heels, reaching for the edge of the towel to mop up the mess, cleaning her carefully not to hurt her sensitive folds.
Once they were cleaner up, he tossed the towel off the bed and pulled her to lay atop him under the thick duvet, holding her close and peppering her face with tickling kisses that had her giggle sleepily.
“You’ll stay?” she asked, her eyes bright but tired after the incredible night and morning between them.
He smiled down at her, kissing her with such tenderness she knew he would stay as long as she would have him. As she snuggled down into his chest, she knew starting this year in his arms was the start of a year unlike any she’d had before. This was her year, for sure.