A/N: *raises eyebrows, wondering who all is here reading*

*hopes it's a few of you*

Warning: Coersion. Violence. Dub-con.

xx-Kitten.

Get Me

By Kittenshift17

Chapter Two

"It will," he growled in her face before lowering his mouth to her.

He kissed her hard, still pinning her while she squirmed. Hermione fought against him, desperate for her freedom, though she suspected it would do her no good.

Sh'd known he'd been lurking around. He hadn't exactly been subtle about it. Over the past few months she'd caught sight of him when she walked the short distance between the nearest Minsitry apparation point and her cottage where it stood at the end of a wooded lane. Often he'd be standing under the last street light at the edge of town, usually gnawing on a piece of jerky - at least she'd told herself it was jerky, but she'd seen the Missing Pet posters that went up all over her neighbourhood, so she rather doubted it. Other times, she'd spy him at the end of her garden, peering over the stone wall at the back of the property when she picked in her laundry, or weeded the flowerbeds on the weekends. He hadn't approached before now; hadn't made contact. Indeed, he hadn't done anything terribly threatening. It was why she hadn't reported seeing him to Harry or the Ministry. What was there to report, other than that he appeared to hanging around, but didn't seem to mean her any ill will.

She wondered now if it had all been a ruse to get her to lower her guard.

"Get off me!" Hermione growled, biting his lip hard enough to taste blood and bucking under his heavy form furiously.

"Like to bite, do you, girly?" he smirked down at her, driving one knee between her legs and slotting himself between them until he could grind that monster in his pants against her core. Hermione immediately regretted the flimsy negligee she'd chosen for her sleep attire thanks to the warm summer night.

"I'm going to kill you," she promised him coldly. "If you don't get up and walk out of here right now without laying another claw on me, so help me, Greyback, I will make it my mission in life to destroy you."

His laugh was cold but genuine.

"God, I'd love to see that, girly," he rumbled into her face. "I'd pay, to see that, actually. Mmmm. Think you'd come after me in your little silk nightie out on the moors, pet? Think you'd track me across the mountains and back to my den? Think you could slay me, if you even made it that far unscathed?"

"There will be little to fear if you proceed, here and now," Hermione pointed out, still squirming.

He glanced down at their entwined forms for a long moment before very deliberately rolling his hips, grinidng his erection against her core and making her fight all the harder.

"I don't know," he said, and when he lifted his eyes back to her face they were the gold of his wolf and full of hunger. "I think there'd still be some things to fear. I don't have to hurt you, girly. Can make it good for you, if you're sweet."

"Sweet?" Hermione demanded, so shocked by the very suggestion that she stopped fighting for a long moment.

"Don't try and pretend you didn't invite this, girl," he rumbled, rolling his hips again before capturing both of her wrists in one large, clawed hand so that the other could tear at her nightie until only the thin scrap of her cotton knickers protected her core from his gaze.

"Invite this?" Hermione repeated, baring her teeth at him furiously.

"You knew I was watching you," he told her. "You didn't drive me away."

"That is not one and the same with inviting you into my home," Hermione asked. "Certainly not to... what are you going to do? Rape me?"

"Don't like that word," he rumbled, though he lowered his mouth to her neck and nipped her sharply before laving away with sting with his tongue.

"Then don't commit the act," Hermione said. "Get the hell off me right now!"

He growled menacingly, and the sound of it filled her ears near to defeaning. She knew she should've reported seeing him to Harry. She knew she should've confronted him, hexed him, cursed him, driven him away. The minute she'd seen him stalking her, she should've killed him.

"You want this," he growled when she thrashed under him again while he used his claws to shred the elastic of her knickers before he tore the scrap of fabric away. "Can smell it on you, girly. Can smell the desire. It's there every time you look at me. Every time you catch me watching you, I can catch the scent of it on the breeze. You want me, I know it."

"You're mistaken," Hermione denied, though in truth, the main reason she hadn't reported him was because after the initial spasm of fear through her system, she often did gush with sudden and unexpected need. She couldn't explain it; nothing she'd read in any of the werewolf lore books she could get her hands on mentioned such a reaction, and none of the health books she'd bought about fear response, and psychology, and PTSD could explain it either.

"Am I?" he asked against her neck before burrowing a hand between them and swiping his fingers over her core.

Hermione knew she was wet. She didn't know why, but she knew that she was. She could feel it, and she could smell the scent of her own desire and she couldn't explain it at all.

The brush of his hand over her flesh had her crying out and Hermione whimpered, biting her lip and ceasing her struggle beneath him when he played for a moment before withdrawing his hand and holding it in the beam of moonlight streaming through the window. His hand glistened with her desire under the glow of the moon and Hermione huffed, scowling.

"You want this, little witch," he smirked and his wolfish grin was a terrible thing to behold when he relaxed a little on top of her now that she wasn't fighting. "You want it so much, you donned this pretty little thing in front of the window to the yard where you knew I'd see you."

"So much that I sleep with a knife under my pillow, lest you invade," she argued. "Get off me, Greyback. I mean it."

"Why?" he challenged. "You ashamed?"

"Yes," Hermione answered truthfully. "Leave. I don't want you here."

"Liar," he said, refusing to budge. "Ashamed you want me? Or ashamed because of what your friends would say if they knew?"

"Both?" Hermione suggested, writhing under him again and trying to ignore the pulse of desire in her core.

"No one has to know," he told her quietly. "Ain't no secret that I want you too, girly."

He punctuated the statement by grinding his erection against her bared core, drawing a whimper from her.

"I would know," Hermione argued, hating the involuntary way her body arched, grinding against him in return, desperate for friction.

"Aye, and you'd be even wetter every time you thought on it," he smirked. "It's natural, girly. Why're you fighting it?"

"You're a monster," she answered.

"So I am," he nodded. "If the little muggles in this village you've claimed found out you're a witch, they'd call you a monster, too. Everyone's a monster to someone, girl."

"Yes, but you're a monster who's been eating their house pets," Hermione replied, rocking her hips again, unbidden.

"And if they learn you're a witch, they'll think about hanging your for baking their children into big pies."

"I haven't laid a finger on their children."

"Will they beleive that when a few of the little buggers go missing at the next full moon?" he countered, smirking.

"Don't you dare bite them, Greyback!" Hermione growled, snapping back to attention at the sinister promise in his voice. "Don't you dare!"

"Why shouldn't I?" he challenged. "Be doing them a favour, giving them power like they've never known."

"They're innocent children," Hermione argued.

"Not for much longer," he smirked.

"Don't touch them. I mean it."

"What'll you give me if I don't?" he asked, and Hermine realised too late that this had been his ploy all along.

"You motherfucker!" she accused coldly, scowling at him and wrenching her hands from his relaxed grip to beat at his shoulders and his face furiously.

He growled, lunging for her limbs quickly and pinning them to the bed either side of her face.

"What'll it be, girly?" he rumbled in her face, his eyes glinting evilly as he leered down at her. "Shall I bite them, infect them, and steal them away from their families forever? Or shall I just ravish you here tonight and leave those pups be?"

"You're a bastard," Hermione hissed at him.

"It's a dog eat dog wolrd, little witch," he replied, evidently amused by his own pun. "And I'm ravenous."

"I won't let you harm those children," she said, still struggling beneath him, though she knew it was useless. They both knew he had her now.

"I won't have to if I get you instead," he answered, and damn him for looking like the wolf among the lambs as he said so.

Sighing out a heavy breath, Hermione let the fight drain from her body until she was plaint and lax beneath him.

"Fine," she whispered. "You get me."

His wolfish smile sent chills racing across her skin before he lowered his mouth to her neck once more, biting her hard enough to make her moan.