August (II)

Around three in the morning, Theo threw the glass down on the table, stood up and went outside. Breathing in the cold, damp air, he marched toward the vineyard with furious determination. With Granger or without her, he was going to harvest his Chardonnay grapes. Paying no attention to the moon or to anything around him, he reached his shed and fumbled with the lock, berating himself for drinking. He was almost ready to cast Alohomora, when the sound of hasty steps reached his ears.

"Theo," he heard a familiar voice and spun around. For the second time in one night not quiet believing his ears, he glared at the witch in front of him. Wearing only her white tunic and shivering in the chilly breeze, Hermione was looking at him with those expressive eyes the colour of Saigon cinnamon. His heart began to pound in his temples. She was here.

"Theo," she breathed out again and bit her lower lip.

Uncertain of his feelings, he blurted, "Are you mad? Where's your jacket? It's bloody freezing."

His words caught her by surprise, and a tentative smile lit up her face. "I didn't think," she said and wrapped her arms around her body.

With a sigh, he took off his coat and muttering, "Silly girl," put it on her. He was about to step back, but she leaned into him, and his arms, as if of their own accord, pressed her to his chest. She shifted closer to him, and he could sense her laboured breathing. Nuzzling her hair, he murmured, "Why are you here? I thought …" His voice broke, and he was forced to take a calming breath before speaking again. "I thought you went back to London, to help him manage the Wizarding world."

"Nope." She shook her head, and her fingers made their way into his hair. "Didn't want to. Also, couldn't. I had to tell you that we can't pick the grapes tonight."

Had she gone bonkers? "And why is that?"

"Because of the rain." Her wicked fingers began to play with the buttons on his shirt, making it difficult to think.

"Don't be ridiculous, Grang -" he started, but didn't get to finish the sentence as a huge drop landed right on his nose. "What the hell?"

"Told you," she sing-sanged, and stepped back to smile at him.

Ignoring the rain, he peered into her eyes and asked, because he needed to know before doing anything else, "What did he want from you?"

She shrugged. "He said he missed me."

"And you?" He muttered. He knew he was pathetic, but he did hold his breath while he waited for her answer.

"I said I didn't miss him at all."

Grabbing her hand, Theo tugged her towards him again, and, coiling his arms around her waist, backed her against the wall of the shed. "I thought I'd lost you," he admitted.

"You didn't," she whispered, raising her chin and offering him her lips.

Theo hesitated for a millisecond, wanting to be able to recall this moment later, and then kissed her with a low growl. He didn't even realise how wound up he was until he felt her yielding lips under his. Something inside of him snapped, turning the kiss rough and demanding as his frustration seeped into it. As if sensing his state of mind, Hermione let out a soft sigh and squared herself in his embrace, inviting him closer, melting into him. Somehow, her compliance made his irritation disappear.

She was here, with him. She had chosen him.

These thoughts brought back all the yearning he had for her, and he let the love and tenderness do their work. Gently exploring the crease of her lips, he coaxed her to open her mouth for him. She moaned, and their tongues merged hungrily. He could feel her fingers in his hair, pulling him down, wanting more. He responded by pushing her against the wooden wall, grinding his swollen cock against her thigh. The need to have her became unbearable and, with one strong tug, he ripped her tunic, earning himself access to her neck, shoulders and breasts. He thumbed her nipples, and Hermione keened, tilting her head back and letting him shower her with kisses. Her skin was just as soft as he imagined, and it tasted like the most delicate wine he ever savoured.

Or maybe, it was a combination of her skin and the rain. Because in their dance, they didn't even notice that the rain turned into a storm and huge drops were pounding on them from the sky, soaking them to the bone. Regardless of the weather, Theo wasn't about to stop. Pitching himself against Hermione, he ran his hands down her sides, palming her stomach in gentle strokes. Impatient, she arched up her hips and curved her hands over his arse, gripping his buttocks, nudging him against her. Chuckling, he plucked at her skirt, dragging the fabric up, revealing her thighs to the rain. Teasingly, he crept his hands higher, his fingertips slowly trailed over her hips, and then slipped his fingers beneath the edge of her knickers, playing across her short curls and over her clit.

"Don't tease," she growled against his chest and shoved her hand in his trousers, freeing him. Grabbing his cock, she began to stroke the length of it hard and fast, forcing a surprised groan from Theo.

He cursed – she was such a wicked, wicked girl, and she wanted him, moaned for him, demanding more from him. Giving in, he hitched her up and made her wrap her legs around his waist. Positioning himself but needing to hear her confession, he rasped into her ear, "Do you want this?"

She breathed out, "Yes. Now."

Echoing her yes with his raspy one, he pushed her knickers aside and entered her with one strong thrust. Driving himself in and out fast and deep, he found her lips again, sliding his tongue deep into her mouth to match his plunging cock. Mine, flashed in his mind with every stroke, every caress, every sigh.

The wild rhythm of his thrusts made it difficult for both of them to last long, and soon he could feel her trembling around him. Gasping over her mouth, Theo sped up, teasing her depths and, eventually, pushing her over the brink. He watched her shudder and groan, marvelling in the indescribable beauty of her orgasm, and when her pussy began contracting, milking him, he smothered her in a kiss and came.

For several minutes, they didn't move, soaked and frozen and wrapped in a tight embrace.

"Will you stay?" he whispered, peering into her eyes.

She nodded. "I have no choice. Someone has to tell you about the weather."

Theo smiled. "Will you be my weather lady, and my advertising lady, and my -"

She pressed a finger to his mouth. "I'll be happy to be your lady, Theo."

"Good," he murmured into her wet curls, and then, as if coming to his senses, added, "Let's get out of here. It's bloody freezing."

Fin