Authors Note: For Helen, Happy Birthday! Sorry this is a little bit early, but I just so happened to be trapped somewhere on a mountain in Tasmania on your birthday. I will be sure to think of you! Enjoy!

Strokes

Up and down.

Up and down.

Up and down.

Remus's arms strained, his lower back ached, but never once did he stop his relentless pace.

Up and down.

Letting out a puff of breath as he neared the end, he drove harder, his stokes confident and sure, never once missing a beat.

"Almost there," Hermione said breathily, nearing the end as well, her own body covered in a light sweat, her muscles tense from exertion.

Remus struggled to take his eyes from her and focus on his task, but every time she rose onto the balls of her feet she exposed the long lines of her body in the most tantalizing display.

"Hm," he grunted, tearing his eyes away from her and focussing on his hands once more.

He kept telling himself that his only task was to continue the smooth run of the foam roller, applying paint onto the blank wall; and not to thinking about the gorgeous young witch at his side.

But it was just so hard as she swayed, and stretched, strained and even sang along to the Wizarding Wireless playing in the background. And the whole time she did this in a pair of cut-off shorts that were obviously designed to drive him slowly, but surely, insane.

He'd known it was dangerous to do anything this close to the full moon, he knew his emotions and hormones were out of his control, but he couldn't say no to Hermione Granger when she said please.

Painting the dilapidated old cottage the brilliant witch had fallen in love with had seemed like a fabulous idea at the time, especially since every body else she knew had also agreed and a working bee had been quickly organized. However, the early arrival of Ginny and Harry's first child just the day before and the unexpected engagement of Ron and Tonks last night, had meant the rather large party of willing workers had dwindled down to just one.

So now, just days away from the full moon he had voluntarily trapped himself in a small room with a woman he had lusted after for the majority of her adult years. Hermione was everything a witch should have been – smart, fiery, incredibly intelligent and so very perceptive.

He knew she was aware something wasn't right today. Her instincts had screamed at her not to be in the room with him, but she had bravely ploughed on, letting him see that tiny moment of apprehension cross her face, before it was gone again.

"I can't believe how much we got done today," she said happily, once again taking his attention away from his hands and back to her tiny body on the wall next to his in what was to be her lounge.

"There is still the bedrooms and kitchen to go," he replied, swallowing hard as the scent of her washed over him in arousing waves. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, his roller falling still for just a moment as he indulged in the tantalizing aroma, resisting urges he had no right to be having.

"I'll guess you'll just have to come back tomorrow then," she teased, slowly moving closer to him and where their walls joined.

"I don't know if I can," he said hoarsely, opening his eyes and moving his roller up and down with such force that tiny droplets of white paint rained down on them as they were squeezed from the foam.

Hermione faltered for only a moment, before pushing on in true Gryffindor fashion, "Well, we'll just have to work extra hard tonight, then. If you don't mind, that is?"

The thought of spending even more time with her was both the most pleasurable and torturous experience Remus could ever imagine, "I don't mind, I like painting," he lied.

Actually, he hated painting, it was the rather laborious task and he wished that they had just used magical paint instead of the stuff Hermione had purchased. After the first flick of her wand at the tin, the paint had soured up in an arch and splashed right back down where it came from. So they were forced to do things the Muggle way, which she had taken to with relish.

She turned back to look at him over her shoulder, the muscles in her back, exposed by the skimpy top she wore, twisted and moved with her, capturing his attention more than her smiling face, "It is rather enjoyable, isn't it. Almost relaxing, once you get into the rhythm."

The subtle play of muscles, which were hidden by heavy robes more often than not, almost made him forget he was expected to respond, "We'll be done in no time," he finally offered, completely forgetting just what she had just said.

"Are you sure you want to pull an all-nighter with me? I can finish off the other rooms tomorrow, it's just nice to have the company" she offered when he turned jerkily back to his wall, once again applying himself to finishing the job.

"No, I'm fine. We'll keep going," he replied, breathing through his mouth as she drew closer and closer.

Hermione went back to humming along to the songs playing on the wireless as they worked closer to the corner. Her body once again relaxing and she swayed as the latest Weird Sisters track, her roller losing rhythm several times as her curls bounced around her head and into her face.

Remus reached the corner first, falling still as he came shoulder to shoulder with her. He placed his roller in the tray on the floor and stopped to watch her as the last few verses of the song played out. He stepped behind her and did something he knew he shouldn't even be thinking about.

"Your strokes are crooked, it'll show up when it dries. Here," he said, pressing himself to her back and gripping her wrist with his hand, guiding her movements.

"Oh," Hermione breathed, relaxing her entire arm and letting him move it for her.

"See?" he murmured a moment later, still guiding her wrist as he stepped in closer, pressing his front closely to her back, feeling those curves he had spent the day admiring. Her scent this close was intoxicating, and he found himself lowering his face to the crook of her neck and inhaling deeply.

"Remus?" she sighed, tilting her head a little as both of the hands fell still.

"I should go," he replied, gently kissing her bare shoulder, shuddering at her warmth.

"You don't have to," she said, swallowing hard, turning a little to look at him.

"Yes, I do," he said, using what little will power he had left to let go of her and step away, shaking his head in an effort to get rid of the scent he was sure he would never forget now that he had tasted it.

Hermione licked her lips nervously and turned to look at him, "I- I want you to stay."

Smiling grimly, he took another step back, "You don't know what you are asking for, I… it's too close."

She took a step toward him, slowly closing the gap again and draining his control until he was frozen to the spot, "No it's not," she said, shaking her head covered in paint splattered curls, "I'm not blind Remus, I've noticed the way you look at me even when it's nowhere near a full moon. I couldn't tell you how excited I was to find out that it would be just the two of us today, how much I've wanted to…"

"To what?" he found himself asking, desperate to hear that this witch who had been tormenting him for months wanted this as much as he did.

"How much I've wanted to be with you," she confessed, bridging the final distance between them.

"You're making a mistake," he told her, even as his hands wrapped around her slight waist and pulled her closer to him.

"If this is a mistake then I should be making them more often," she breathed, standing on her toes until her lips hovered over his.

"I would rather I be the only mistake you make," he growled, nipping at her lips, teasing her as his arms tightened possessively.

"That sounds rather nice," she said faintly just before he kissed her.

Once again the smell and taste of her overwhelmed all common sense, and the gentle press of lips soon turned into a battle for dominance, his tongue sweeping through her mouth and claiming her as his. Her hands twined through his hair as she held him tightly to her, kissing him back with equal force.

Hermione moaned when his denim clad hips pressed hard into her stomach, the arousal he had been fighting on and off all day making itself known. She gripped his shoulders when his wandering hands suddenly ran down to her thighs, pulling them roughly up around his hips until she straddled him.

Using the strength in his arms, he cupped her arse and pressed into her core, causing her to moan loudly into his mouth. The sound set a new wave of shivers up his spine making him kiss her harder as he spun with her in his arms and looked for the nearest stable surface in which to ravish her on. He needed her, all of her, naked and underneath him and without further wait. Every single one of his fantasies about the hot young witch in his arms floated through his mind in that moment, but none of which were so strong as having the reality there with him.

"Please Remus, don't make me wait," she sighed against his lips, pulling away to kiss down his neck, her teeth gently grazing the sensitive skin.

Lost to the feel of her wrapped around him, he dropped to his knees and lowered her to the paint smeared drop sheet on the ground, struck by the beauty of her when her hair fanned out across the floor and she smiled up at him.

"I'm going to fast," he groaned, that small part of him that was still able to think suddenly finding it's voice.

"Just go slow later," she said, pulling him back down to her, kissing him hard enough to leave them both heaving for air.

He made quick work of her shirt and didn't even remember removing her shorts, but soon he had her naked beneath him and all he wanted to do was sheath himself in her warmth. She moaned when he captured her nipple between his teeth, tugging at the hem of his old frayed t-shirt in time to his gentle ministrations.

When he had her squirming and begging him breathlessly for me, he sat up and reached over his head, pulling the shirt by it's collar until he sat between her thighs in only his jeans. He watched as she reached out wordlessly, sitting up on one elbow to trace his scars first with her hands and them with her tongue.

Her hand trailed all the way down the longest and thickest scar, long healed to white but the most prominent reminder of just who and what he was. When she reached the waist band of his jeans, unable to move on any further, she looked up to meet his eyes.

"I've dreamt about doing this for so long," she whispered, biting her lower lip as she slowly flicked open one button after the other before carefully pulling down his fly.

Remus opened his mouth to reply, but her hand slipped beneath the confining fabric and her fist gripped his length, pulling him into view. She only pumped her hand three times before he was pushing her back to the floor and covering her with his body. He struggled to remove the jeans, kicking them from his legs with her help, but then they were both naked on her soon-to-be living room floor.

He gripped her thighs and pushed them as wide as they would go, holding her down as he positioned his straining length, finding her wet and ready for him. Hermione squirmed and watched him as he took a deep breath before thrusting hard and deep.

A hoarse cry was ripped out of her mouth as she lay beneath him, her hips bucking into his as he wasted no time letting her adjust, pulling out almost immediately before thrusting back hard with a strength little knew he possessed.

"God, Remus!" she moaned, her nails scraping down his back, encouraging him on.

Sweat began to meld between them as he worked them both toward the end, tilting his hips up so that he hit the spot he felt certain would make her see stars.

She didn't disappoint, her toes curling and a high pitch keen filled the room and would surely have sent the neighbours running, if she had had any. He reached between them on the next thrust; aiming for that same spot at the same time he manipulated her tight bud.

Her head flung back, exposing her throat and without warning the tiny pulses of pleasure turned to the full flutter of her orgasm. Remus let those sensations wash over him for a moment before finally giving in to his own release.

Gasping, his grip on her thighs became so tight she was sure to bruise, but he could no sooner pull away from this woman than stop the incredible sensation of losing himself in her body. He kissed her until her lips bruised and when his body finally stopped its spasms, he lay down on top of her, his head cushioned on her breasts.

Her fingers gently sifted through his hair as he lay in a cloud of their mingled scents, the beast within him oddly content for the first time in years.

"I'm going to hold you to it you know," she said a few minutes later.

"What's that?" he asked.

"Going slow next time, because if your fast is anything to go by then your slow will be positively addicting," she grinned, kissing his forehead before going back to her soft caresses.

"Then we better finish painting, because I think that may require a bed," he replied, rolling off her with a groan and flopping to her side.

"Oh, I don't know, this floor is pretty comfortable," she laughed, moving her hand to swipe her fingers through a large puddle of paint they were lying next to.

"Hm, do you think a bath would be comfortable?" he asked, sitting up and holding out his hand.

Hermione smiled at him and accepted the gesture, letting him pull her to her feet, "A bath sounds wonderful."

Remus led his witch to the unpainted bathroom with the thought that he could get used to the painting business. He may even grow to like it one day.

Thanks for Reading!