Challenge Fic: The Scent of Leather | NC17 | Sirius/Hermione

[ceredwensirius]

Title: The Scent of Leather
Pairing: Sirius/Hermione
Rating: NC-17
Canon: Post DH
Word Count: 2,100
Genre: AU
Prompt: Leather
Warnings: leather fettish, oral sex, wall sex, public sex
Summary: Sirius learns that his desire for Hermione is not one sided.
Author’s notes: For the September 2008 erotic_elves Random Kink Fest. Special thanks to my beta duck_or_rabbit

 

When he opened the front door to enter number twelve, Grimmauld Place after an afternoon out with Remus, just out and about, he noticed it. A heightened sense of smell, the unexpected side effect of choosing canis familiaris as his Animagus form, alerted him to something new and somewhat out of place in the old family manor. It was the smell of leather, but not just leather, the smell of leather mixed with witch. Leather pants, he realized as he took in another heady breath of the stuff that had already shot straight to his groin.

"Pads?" asked Remus questioningly, alerting Sirius to the fact that he had stopped in the middle of the doorway, mesmerized by the smell of body warmed leather and cunt.

"Sorry," said Sirius, closing the door behind him and then breezing past Remus, ignoring his material question.

Trying to tune out the smell, he focused on the sounds coming from the kitchen, sounds of laughter and joking and protested huffing from one put out brainy witch.

"I can't believe you made me buy these," grumbled Hermione at Ginny as Remus and Sirius entered the kitchen.

Sirius froze in the doorway to the kitchen, eyes glued to the lower half of Hermione Granger which was encased in a pair of red leather pants circa 1985, the end product of the girls' day at a retro shop. The witch had caught his attention for many months now but he put his attraction on a shelf clearly marked, 'Do Not Touch,' and did his best to let it go at that. Remus' amused chuckle let Sirius know that the werewolf was on to him as he very likely had smelled the same thing without the fetish to add context where there bloody well shouldn't be any.

"It's an eighties party in honor of your birthday," returned Ginny. "And besides, they look fabulous on you! Don't they, Harry?"

Harry coughed and mumbled something vaguely complimentary and wholly unintelligible.

Ginny rolled her eyes and turned to Sirius and Remus. "Remus, tell her they make her arse look fantastic!"

"They make her arse look fantastic," he parroted obediently. "What do you think, Sirius?"

Hell. I'm going to hell. The road to hell is paved with Hermione's arse.

"Erm...yeah...fantastic, truly," he mumbled, grateful that Hermione was too mortified to look at him, missing the look of longing in his eyes. He could just imagine how her cunt would taste after wearing those pants with no knickers.

"I'm taking them back," announced Hermione. "They're just too ridiculous."

"Don't do that!" said Sirius before he could stop the words, forcing Hermione to turn on the spot to look at him. The way her body wiggled and swayed as she moved was nearly enough to make him come in his pants like a bloody adolescent.

"No?" she asked hesitantly, eyes searching his face. His opinion meant more than he realized.

"It's you birthday," he offered with that twisted grin of his, relying on well practiced charm to pull him out of this mess. "You need to have a night out where all eyes are on you."

"I doubt that," she returned with a small pout.

He wondered briefly if she had hoped for a better reaction from him, but pushed it aside as being preposterous.

Moving around Hermione, Ginny accidentally brushed up against Sirius, pushing him against Hermione, making her lose balance. Strong hands shot out instinctively to steady her, grasping at her waist, the warm leather caressing his rough hands. His grip tightened on her, the feeling of leather on her a powerful aphrodisiac. Before he could remember himself she chanced a glance at his face. The hunger in his expression pulled a soft gasp from her and for a brief, telling, significant moment their eyes met and he wondered if she could feel the same magnetic pull.

Sirius released her like he had been burned.

"You know, I think I will hold onto them," she said as a slow smile spread across her face.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Sitting at a table, nursing a tumbler of firewhiskey and ice, Sirius looked over the railing to the dance floor two floors down. Despite the fact that he loved to dance and that this music was nostalgic of his younger, more carefree years, he had posted himself in this spot to keep from doing something completely irrational, brainless and ultimately regrettable. Hermione was on the dance floor, sandwiched between the Weasley twins, having the time of her life. Watching her bottom gyrate in those pants was sweet, blissful, agonizing torture.

"You know I'm surprised at you." Ginny slid into the booth next to Sirius and followed where his eye line was fixed.

"Oh? How so?" he returned casually, looking away from the dance floor as nonchalantly as possible.

"I never got the impression that you were the sort of man who wouldn't go after something he wanted," she replied, downing the purple contents of a test tube in one.

"Don't know what you're talking about," he mumbled, his voice touched with petulance.

"It makes sense for Hermione not to go after you," she continued as though he hadn't spoken. "She's never been very forceful with her romantic interests, but you...you surprise me."

"What?" he asked with genuine surprise.

Ginny smirked at his eager question.

"I also thought you were more observant than that," she replied, tired of watching these two moon after each other but do nothing about it.

Sirius gave the redhead a scrutinizing look to confirm the veracity of her words, and then left the booth with a determined look in his eye.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"May I cut in?"

The twins looked up and then grinned.

"She's all yours," said George with a smirk. Fred was already hunting for a new witch to play with.

"Sirius!" exclaimed Hermione, surprised and pleased. He was the only one who hadn't danced with her that night.

"A little bird whispered in my ear," he murmured softly against her ear, his voice rougher than usual. "Suggesting you want me as badly as I want you."

Hermione froze in his arms and swallowed a thick knot in her suddenly dry throat. Turning her head slowly up to meet his pale eyes, the pupils of which were practically glowing with the dark lust he had kept hidden from her until now, her eyes confirming for him that every word Ginny had spoken was truth. Unconcerned for their location in the middle of the dance floor, with one hand lost in her wild, brown tangle of tresses, the other tightening on her waist, he crashed his lips against hers in a bruising, possessive kiss.

Helpless to do more than grasp at his shoulders for support and get swept away in his passion, she returned his advances with equal need. Pressing herself against his body tightly, she felt the evidence of his desire hot against her belly.

"Do you have any idea how you've tortured me with these pants of yours?" he asked, gliding his hands along the leather that hugged her arse, squeezing hard until she squeaked in response.

"I don't feel like dancing anymore," she whispered bravely.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

With need coursing through their veins, sweet and hot like boiled honey, the promise of a fantasy that was about to be fulfilled pushed propriety to the side as they searched for somewhere dark and private. A shadowy alcove hidden by stairs that led to the upper reaches of the wizard night club suited Sirius, pulling her into it and slamming her forcefully against the wall. Wanting to take his time with her but his body was screaming at him with need, months of lust and lonely wanks in the privacy of his bedroom demanded that he have her now.

"This isn't a one off," he growled softly, his way of explaining that a more meaningful union would follow when he wasn't so bloody crazed with a want of her. Hermione nodded and squeezed her eyes tight wondering exactly what he did want from her beyond this, hope fluttering like butterflies in her stomach.

The pants, he realized as his lips moved against her neck, biting and sucking, leaving his mark on her skin, proclaiming her as his, would prove a problem. With a feeling of regret and a wave of his wand, her red leather pants that had driven him mad became a red leather mini skirt. Falling to his knees, pushing the leather up her thighs, his mouth falling open when he discovered her dirty little secret.

"No knickers," he moaned softly, breathing in her scent mixed with leather that was nearly his undoing.

"I was worried they would show lines," she confessed, suddenly self conscious at his bare viewing of her.

Not giving her any time to focus on that particular emotion, he plunged his face into her cunt, smelling, tasting, losing himself in Hermione and the leather that had been caressing her pussy all night. The taste of her was intoxicating and all consuming as he ran his hot tongue from her slick entrance to her clit. The sounds of her pleasure mingled with his name breathlessly uttered were music to his ears. Pushing a finger into her hot slot, he grinned when his name was more forcefully spoken.

The insistence of his erection, pressing needfully, almost painfully, against his trousers stiffened further as his fingers played in her silken passage, feeling it quiver with the force of his attention and wet tongue on her clit. A trickle of juices slid down his fingers and then dripped onto his chin as he felt the clench of her muscles tighten around his fingers as she came, the howl of his name drowned out by the pulsing, hypnotic music of the night club.

Slipping his fingers out of her so that he could lift her up against the wall by her thighs, not giving her anytime to recover, he released his trapped hardness and pressed it into her as she wrapped her legs tightly around him and grasped onto his shoulders. Need, want, adrenaline and passion urged him to claim her body forcefully, thrusting into her with a maddening pace, growling and cursing because it just felt so fucking good to be inside her. Her hips and back ached with the power of his pelvis pounding into hers but that didn't matter a bit as he pushed her closer and closer to another orgasm.

"So fucking close," he growled needfully, shifting her slightly so his fingers could find her clit.

Pulsing, grasping, holding his cock tight inside her body as he rocked against her, his orgasm triggered by hers, he spilled himself deep inside her, her name burning warm and damp against her breast. Kissing her flesh between hard puffs, he gently let her down off the wall. Their eyes met and she giggled softly.

"Wow," she breathed, before settling her head against his chest.

Unable to help the smug, self-satisfied grin or the surge of masculine pride he whispered into her ear, "I imagine your friends will wonder what became of you."

Hermione nodded and they straightened themselves into something slightly more presentable before emerging from their dark corner of sin. Sirius was right, her friends had wondered where she had gone, flocking to her as they made their way around the edge of the dance floor.

"What happened to your pants?" asked Ginny, eyebrow raised in mirth at Sirius.

Hermione stammered out an answer that fooled no one, knowing looks passing from one to another mingled with relief that the tension between these two was at an end.

"Last call," shouted a bartender as the group left the club to return home.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Waiting patiently outside the dressing room, Sirius heard Hermione release what sounded like a self-conscious sigh. When they got home the night before he had transfigured her skirt back into pants once they were behind his bedroom door, only to take them off her and lick the inside of the pants along its crotch while she watched breathlessly. His admission of a fascination with leather was the reason for their current location; a Muggle leather fetish shop. Hearing her small cough to get his attention, her finger crooking at him from around the dressing room curtain, he was invited in to view the outfit he had selected. 

"It's a pity some poor beast had to give its life for this get up," she remarked. "It barely earns the title of 'clothes.'"

Growling softly while advancing on her with a predatory gleam in his eye, he softly muttered, "Silencio!"

~the end

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[ceredwensirius.livejournal.com]

Guh! He's such a cutie!