Chapter Text
Hermione’s fingers brushed over the smooth satin of her dress at her thighs, as the taxi pulled to a stop. Thanking the driver as she handed the fare over, she slipped from the car and shivered as the cold wind immediately chilled her. She pulled the thin jacket closer around her and hurried to the front door, desperate for the shelter that the building would provide.
Hermione sighed with relief as she slipped inside the office, now all decorated up for Christmas, with music playing and her colleagues celebrating between desks. She slipped between raucous editors, singing photographers and managed to reach her own desk. She dropped her jacket and clutch on the seat and then looked around to see if her work friends had arrived yet.
“Oh god…” Hermione spotted Ginny underneath the mistletoe, kissing Harry Potter from marketing. “Typical.”
She wandered over to the drinks table, looking around to see if she could see Luna, another friend. There was no sign of her and Hermione’s mood dipped. She picked up a glass of champagne and took a large sip.
She had worked in the building for a year; had made friends with Ginny and Luna at the last Christmas party and been so grateful to not be alone in the middle of the celebrations. But this year, she had a sinking feeling that they’d both be occupied. Ginny had been crushing on Harry Potter for as long as Hermione had known her and probably longer, and it appeared she’d decided to finally make a move. Luna had been dating Neville Longbottom, one of the fact checkers, for a few months and since Hermione couldn’t spot him, she imagined they were taking their sweet time getting here together.
“Hermione Granger, that dress is…” Hermione gritted her teeth and turned to face Blaise Zabini, who had been actively and persistently pursuing her since the last Christmas party. He was often found perched on her desk first thing in the morning and only the threat of being spotted by their boss, not working, prevented him from lingering. “Well it’s practically indecent and I am all for that. Someone you’re trying to impress?”
“Not you.”
“Ouch, you wound me.” He winked. “Come on Granger, we’ve been doing this dance for a year now. You know you like me.”
“I can quite honestly say that there is no one here that I dislike more. I’ve told you a thousand times that I’m not interested.”
“I’ll catch you under the mistletoe later, shall I?” He grabbed a drink, smirking and disappeared off into the crowd. Hermione closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Maybe she should report him to HR. At first, she thought he’d get the message, but a year was excessive. She was surprised he hadn’t been caught by their boss.
Her eyes flicked up to the office of Bellatrix Lestrange. The blinds were closed, but she could see the faint glow of the desk lamp; she remembered how the previous year, her boss had worked through most of the party, only coming out for the obligatory speech and to do the rounds.
Becoming the personal assistant to Bellatrix Lestrange, part owner of the business and celebrated editor, had been a career move that Hermione couldn’t afford to miss. But meeting the woman had thrown her completely.
Hermione was hovering outside the office door, notepad in hand. She took a steadying breath and then knocked on the door.
“Come in.” The voice was commanding, brisk and made Hermione’s stomach flip. She opened the door and her new boss looked up from her desk. Her eyes caught Hermione’s attention first; dark and intelligent, large and beautiful. Red lips against porcelain skin. Long, dark curls, some with flecks of grey in them, framing a stunning face. “Yes?”
“Um… hi.” Hermione cringed and shook herself. She was a professional. She should not be getting thrown by a pretty face. But what a face… “Hello, Ms Lestrange. I am Hermione Granger and I’m your new personal assistant.”
Those eyes traced over her and her lip curled, not too pleasantly.
“Of course you are. I take it you’ve met Rod?”
“I…” Hermione had met Rodolphus Lestrange at the interview briefly; he had spotted her in the corridor and introduced himself, before popping into the interview room for a few moments. When he’d left, he’d given her a smile that had made her feel a little uncomfortable, and wished her luck. “Mr. Lestrange?”
“My husband, yes.”
“Very briefly, yes.”
“Mmm.” The other woman looked down at the work in front of her. “I like a black coffee as soon as you get in and then we sit and go through my schedule for the day. Never put calls from my parents through, I’m always in a meeting. My sisters you put through immediately. I don’t expect you to stay as long as I do unless I ask you to, and then I expect you to organise taking the time back promptly but with as little impact on my schedule as possible. I work hard, I’m efficient and I expect you to be the same; are we clear?”
“Yes, Ms. Lestrange.”
“Good. That will be all.”
As Hermione headed to the door, it opened and Rodolphus Lestrange appeared.
“Bella- Ah. Miss… Granger was it?”
“Yes sir.”
“Welcome to the company. I hope Bellatrix hasn’t scared you off already?”
Hermione heard Bellatrix snort and glanced back over at her. The woman’s jaw was tight as though she were gritting her teeth and she was looking at Rod as though he was unwelcome.
“No, I’m looking forward to working for her.”
Bellatrix’s eyes flicked to her with a hint of surprise in them.
“Well, just so you know, I have an open door policy and I’ve been working with her for longer than we’ve been married, so if you ever have any questions, don’t be afraid to pop in.” Rod said and Hermione felt her skin crawl.
“Thank you sir,” she forced a smile at him and then glanced back over to Bellatrix. “But as Ms. Lestrange’s assistant, I am sure she can tell me if I’m not meeting her expectations.”
Bellatrix’s lips twitched and Hermione nodded her head before heading out of the door. She returned to her desk and wrote down Bellatrix’s expectations, before heading to the kitchen to make her a coffee.
When the news had broken, a few months later, that Bellatrix was divorcing Rod because of infidelity, Hermione was unsurprised. They had developed a kind of rapport over the months and she picked up every little sign from Bellatrix. Ginny and Luna often wondered out loud how Hermione had gained the ability to read their boss’ mind when so many other assistants had failed before her. Hermione just shrugged. She didn’t tell them that it had only taken her two weeks before she’d started making sure that Bellatrix’s favourite snacks were always waiting for her when she returned from long meetings with Rod because she would always be stressed. She didn’t tell them that she had bribed Rod’s assistant with coffee and pastries once a week for most of the year to give her a heads up when he headed over to see Bellatrix, so that she could give her time to get out if she wanted.
She didn’t tell them that it had only taken her a few weeks to admit that she had a crush on Bellatrix. She didn’t tell them that when Bellatrix had casually mentioned that she was divorcing Rod, her heart had hammered so hard that she’d almost missed everything else the woman had said.
Hermione chewed her lip and then took a deep breath. They had developed a kind of friendship, hadn’t they? Conversation was certainly easy and Hermione had spent evenings working late on the sofa in Bellatrix’s office with takeaway food spread out on the table, watching the other woman relax a little. She’d seen her slip off her heels and flex her toes with a relieved moan that had made Hermione’s breath catch. Bellatrix had even bantered playfully a little with her over her food choices a few times. It felt like… more...than it was supposed to be.
Her stomach curled as she considered whether she should try to coax Bellatrix out to the party. She shook her head.
You’re making up lame excuses because you want to see her.
But technically, taking her a drink would fall under the realms of her job role…
Hermione threw back the rest of her glass and picked up two fresh ones, heading towards the stairs before she lost her nerve. She climbed as quickly as she could with the glasses in her hands and paused outside the door. She shifted the glasses so the stems were between the fingers of one hand and knocked.
“Yes?”
Hermione panicked momentarily, because this was definitely an excuse, but she’d made it this far. She opened the door.
“Ms. Lestrange, I thought you might like a drink.”
Bellatrix looked up from her work and smiled. Hermione’s heart faltered. Bellatrix had taken off the blazer she had been wearing all day, revealing that the green silk shirt with the V-neck that had drawn Hermione’s eyes to it repeatedly, was sleeveless. Bellatrix’s porcelain skin was on display and her arms were more toned than Hermione remembered. The summer had been very distracting, with the office too hot most days for blazers or long sleeves, but it had been months and apparently those personal trainer sessions that Hermione had been scheduling were paying off. She swallowed and forced her eyes back to Bellatrix’s face.
“Perfect timing, as always,” Bellatrix hummed. Hermione let the door close as she stepped forward, transferring one of the glasses to her other hand and holding it out for Bellatrix. Their fingers brushed lightly as it transferred and Hermione tried desperately not to look away, embarrassed, for fear it would give her away. “Champagne?”
“I can get you something else if you prefer, I just-”
“-No,” Bellatrix waved away her concern. “Champagne is fitting.”
“Well, Christmas is a celebration,” Hermione smiled.
“As is my divorce being finalised,” Bellatrix smirked. Hermione’s lips parted in surprise as Bellatrix gestured at the thick envelope on her desk as she stood. “You’ll have to start calling me Ms. Black instead.”
Bellatrix’s wink seemed casual and playful, but Hermione’s insides heated anyway.
“Well, Ms. Black, congratulations.” Hermione raised her glass and Bellatrix did the same. “To freedom.”
“To never having to pretend I like that asshole again.”
Hermione almost inhaled the sip she’d been taking as she laughed. Bellatrix’s lips curled into a delighted smile and she took a sip herself.
“I… I’m happy for you. He’s…” She hesitated. It would likely be over the line to say what she’d been thinking since she met the man. At some point, Bellatrix must have cared for him.
“You know, when I first met you I thought that you were another of his eye-candy hires.” Bellatrix hummed. “Beautiful but completely useless in the role and happy to fawn over his every need. But, do you remember that he came into my office and you politely rebuffed him?”
“Yes, I told him that I was yours,” Hermione blushed and rushed to finish. “Your assistant and that I could learn what you wanted directly from you.”
“Yes, you did,” Bellatrix’s smile was teasing, as though she had spotted the slip up. She chose not to mention it however. “I liked that. I liked the bravery and the honesty. So don’t hold back now. What were you going to say?”
Hermione chewed her lip.
“That he’s a narcissistic prick who didn’t deserve you.”
“My,” Bellatrix grinned. “Just when I thought I couldn’t like you more.”
Hermione blushed hard and looked down at her glass.
“I just…” She shook her head. “Thank you. Erm… are you joining in downstairs?”
“I suppose I should,” Bellatrix sighed, stepping around her desk. She leaned back on the front of it and rolled her neck. “I’ve been bent over my desk for hours.”
Hermione flushed again; she thought she must match the Christmas decorations by now, but she couldn’t help the image of Bellatrix that slipped into her mind at the words.
“Well, um, I booked your massage for the twenty-seventh, so that should help, and you’re off for the next two days so…” She caught the look on Bellatrix’s face and stopped. “Sorry, work mode.”
“I believe both of us are afflicted by the curse that is the inability to leave work at the office,” Bellatrix smiled. “No matter how many times I tell you to.”
“And I’ve told you, I don’t mind. It’s kind of expected, for my job. My old boss would call me at three am because that’s when he got up. At least you don’t do that.”
“If I call you about work at that time, I give you permission to tell me to go fuck myself,” Bellatrix smirked.
“Can I get that in writing?” Hermione teased. Bellatrix’s eyes sparkled with mirth. She stood, turned and grabbed a sheet of paper, before leaning over the desk and writing. Hermione half-laughed, half-panicked, when she realised what she was doing. “I was joking!”
“I know,” Bellatrix hummed. She signed the paper with a flourish and then turned, offering it to Hermione with a smirk. The younger woman took it and bit her lip as she read it.
I, Bellatrix Black, give Hermione Granger permission
to tell me to go fuck myself, should I disturb her
at 3am for work. No action shall be taken against
Miss Granger for such words.
“I can’t believe you did that.”
“Keep it safe,” Bellatrix replied, amused. “I’m tempted to call you once, just to see if you’d dare.”
“Oh I would,” Hermione grinned. She folded the paper and slipped it into her bra. “And now I can’t get in trouble for it.”
“Hmmm,” Bellatrix hummed, her eyes hovering on the piece of paper that peeked out of the edge of Hermione’s dress. Hermione blushed as Bellatrix’s eyes trailed over her and then back up. “We match.”
Hermione glanced down. Yes, she had picked the dress out because she knew that Bellatrix’s favourite colour was green and she had tried hard not to dwell on that fact. But it had fitted her like a glove and was much more revealing than she would usually have worn to any kind of party, let alone her work Christmas do. But some part of her hadn’t been able to resist. It dipped into a v at her breasts and there was a slit to her thigh that split the satin and left her leg on display. Topped with red lipstick and her hair pinned up, she had been surprised by how good she had looked in the mirror.
She realised Bellatrix was still looking at her.
“We do. I saw it and I couldn’t resist.”
“I know the feeling,” Bellatrix murmured.
“What?” Hermione asked, not sure she’d heard her correctly.
“You look... good. Although I’d keep away from the mistletoe if you don’t want drunken idiots lining up.”
“Blaise has already threatened to find me there,” Hermione rolled her eyes, glancing back to the door. “If you see me near the mistletoe it’s entirely unintentional.”
“He’s bothering you?” Hermione looked back to find Bellatrix frowning. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I didn’t want to bother anyone. He’s persistent but he’s not done anything per se. Anyway I’ve been thinking about approaching HR after Christmas.”
“Make sure you do,” Bellatrix stood, her jaw tight. “I won’t have you harassed.”
Hermione’s throat went dry; something about Bellatrix being protective of her, angry for her, made desire coil low in her stomach.
“Yes, boss.” She had meant it to be teasing, but it came out slightly too husky to be considered that and for a moment, Bellatrix’s gaze seemed to slip to her lips. But then she picked up her glass of champagne and downed it quickly.
“Well I suppose we had better go down.”
“Of course.” Hermione replied, finishing off her own drink.
***
“He’s such a good kisser,” Ginny grinned. “Should I take him home tonight? Is that bad? Or should I make him date me first?”
“Depends what you want from it,” Hermione murmured, distracted. She was watching Bellatrix making the rounds, trying not to feel jealous every time someone made the woman smile, or laugh politely, or got to shake her hand.
“I want to adopt alien babies with him and raise them as mormons.”
“Sounds good.”
“Hermione, you are not paying attention.”
“Hmm, what?” Hermione looked at her friend.
“What’s got you so distracted?” Ginny looked around. “Is it Blaise? Is he still trying to get you over to the mistletoe?”
“Yes. Maybe I should just do it and then knee him in the balls when he tries.”
“Oh my god, please do that.”
“What’s Hermione doing?” Luna appeared, Neville not far behind.
“Kneeing Blaise in the balls when he tries to kiss her under the mistletoe.”
“I’m not actually doing it,” Hermione said. “I’m not going near that mistletoe if I can help it.”
“You’re going to dance with us though, right?”
Hermione eyed the short distance from where people were dancing to the mistletoe.
“I mean…”
“Oh come on, don’t let him ruin it for you. We’ll protect you.”
“Fine.”
They kept close as they danced, although Hermione could see Blaise looking over at her every time they danced near the mistletoe. She always quickly danced away, trading places with one of the group.
“I swear, you’d think he’d get the hint.”
“I think you should go to HR,” Luna said.
“I know. I will, after Christmas.”
“Good,” Ginny said, spinning Hermione around. “Or else I may have to take him out.”
“I’m terrified,” Hermione laughed.
They danced for a couple more songs and Hermione put Blaise out of her mind, enjoying the time with her friends.
“Hermione watch out-” Ginny hissed. Hermione turned and found Blaise standing behind her; the mistletoe above him.
“Come on Granger,” he winked, extending his arms. “How about a kiss for Christmas?”
Hermione seriously considered the kicking him in the balls option, but before she could open her mouth to tell him where he could stick the mistletoe, he was blocked from her vision.
“Miss Granger, I need your assistance.” Bellatrix’s smooth voice washed over Hermione and she stopped glaring. Had Bellatrix just saved her ass? “I’m afraid I need to check my calendar but I can’t seem to get access.”
“Oh, of course. I’d be happy to help.”
Then, with what Hermione could only assume was alcohol fueled bravado, Blaise popped around Bellatrix.
“Hey boss, I was just about to get my Christmas kiss.”
“Excuse me?” Bellatrix levelled him with an icy glare and a raised eyebrow. Blaise shrank.
“Sorry, it’s just…” he pointed above her. “Um… mistletoe.”
Bellatrix glanced up and then looked between the two of them.
“I see. Miss Granger needs a Christmas kiss.”
“Yeah,” Blaise grinned.
“Very well.” Hermione froze when Bellatrix stepped into her space. “If she consents?”
Hermione stared into Bellatrix’s patient but questioning eyes and swallowed.
“Yes.” It came out raspy and Bellatrix’s lips twitched before she leaned forward. Her breath tickled Hermione’s lips and then passed them, as Bellatrix pressed her lips against Hermione’s cheek. She lingered a little longer than might have been appropriate and Hermione’s heart thundered in her ears. When Bellatrix withdrew, her eyes lingered on Hermione’s lips before she stepped back.
“There, Blaise. Now I do believe I’ll be taking this down. We wouldn’t want HR to have a heart attack, would we?”
She stretched up and removed the mistletoe from the Christmas arch, hooking the ribbon around her finger. Blaise looked tremendously disappointed and a little shell shocked.
“Um… no boss.”
“Good. Now, Miss Granger, this issue really can’t wait.”
“Oh… of course.” Hermione’s legs felt a little shaky, but she followed Bellatrix towards the stairs, glancing back to see that Blaise looked pissed and grinning all the way up to the office. The door shut behind them and Hermione’s grin split even wider. “That was amazing. The look on his face, I-”
She paused as Bellatrix turned to face her and she immediately felt heat rise in her cheeks as she remembered what had happened before Blaise’s reaction.
“I apologise,” Bellatrix said. “It was not appropriate for me to do that.”
“What? You saved me. I was considering kicking him in the balls and I kind of like not getting done for assault so-” Bellatrix’s chuckle halted her.
“Yes, I’d prefer that you remained out of jail, too. But still, I could have merely insisted on the first excuse. I didn’t need to kiss you.”
“I didn’t mind,” Hermione said, without thinking. Bellatrix raised an eyebrow and Hermione rushed to cover for her gutter brain. “I mean… it was just a peck on the cheek. It’s not like you kissed me properly.”
“True; I’m not in the business of kissing people who don’t want to be kissed,” Bellatrix’s tone was curious, almost hesitant, as though testing the waters.
“Or women?” Hermione replied slowly, suddenly feeling the need to test the waters too. Something was hanging between them, like unasked questions, waiting.
“I didn’t say that,” Bellatrix replied. Hermione’s cheeks were hot.
“Oh.” Hermione wasn’t sure how to reply to that, because her heart seemed to be doing somersaults. “I… didn’t know.”
“Why would you?” Bellatrix asked, transferring her weight. “I never told you. It’s not going to be a problem, is it?”
“What? No! I’m-” Hermione hesitated. “I like women too, I just... wasn’t really expecting you to.”
“Why ever not?” Bellatrix chuckled.
“I-” Hermione bit her lip. She had been about to say that she hadn’t dared hope that she might, because knowing that there was even a sliver of a chance might give her a heart attack. Was that what was happening to her now? It certainly felt like it. “I don’t know.”
Bellatrix studied her for a moment and then stepped forward. Hermione’s heart stopped.
“I like women.” She glanced down and then her fingers brushed Hermione’s. She lifted her hand and then Hermione, who was transfixed on her face, felt her place something in it. She glanced down. Bellatrix had put the mistletoe in her hand. “I would never want a woman I liked to feel she had to like me because of who I am, or what I do. I like a woman who lets me know that she wants to be kissed by me.”
Hermione’s breath caught. Bellatrix’s eyes scanned her face, resting on her lips. Her eyelashes fluttered and then she looked back to Hermione’s eyes, before stepping back slightly.
“You should be safe by now,” she hummed, voice an octave lower. “If you want to return to the party.”
Hermione blinked, drawing in a ragged breath. Her feet felt glued to the floor and she swayed a little. Then, on auto-pilot, she turned to leave.
Her hand rested on the door handle, but she didn’t turn it. She took a deep breath.
Fuck, what’s wrong with you. Did that just happen? Did she just… I… what am I doing?
She turned around. Bellatrix was sitting on the desk, watching her, her hands tucked into the pockets of her trousers. Hermione released the handle and stepped back into the room. She paused in front of Bellatrix, whose tongue darted out, wetting her lips.
Hermione leaned around her and hooked one of her pens from the desk. Bellatrix watched her like a hawk as she fished the piece of paper from her bra and rested it on her palm, writing. She signed it slowly and then put down the pen, catching a whiff of Bellatrix’s perfume as she did. She breathed in, straightened up, then handed the piece of paper to Bellatrix, who read it out loud.
“I, Hermione Granger, give Bellatrix Black permission to… to kiss me... whenever she likes, because I’ve wanted her since the first time I saw her, and it has nothing to do with her being my boss.” Bellatrix looked up and found Hermione holding the mistletoe up between them. She stood slowly, putting the paper down on the desk. “You mean that?”
“Yes,” Hermione whispered. “Kiss me, please.”
Bellatrix reached up and took the mistletoe, placing it on the desk and then lifted her hands to slowly cup Hermione’s face. She skimmed her thumbs over her cheeks and then tilted her chin upwards. Hermione’s eyelashes fluttered as Bellatrix’s breath ghosted over her lips and closed as she pressed a light kiss to her. She inhaled as Bellatrix kissed her once, twice… three times with an agonising gentleness. She opened her eyes as Bellatrix withdrew slightly, dropping her hands to Hermione’s hips. She bit her lip and then she slid her arms over her shoulders and leaned into her, pressing a searing kiss to her lips. Bellatrix’s hands tightened on her hips and then she was being held by strong arms that made sure there wasn’t an inch between them. She moulded to Bellatrix’s body, tasting champagne and strawberries on her lips, flicking her tongue out to taste them and begging for entrance, which Bellatrix happily granted.
The kisses were hot, sending sparks through her nerves until she was tingling all over. She moaned into Bellatrix’s mouth, and she felt the other woman’s hands tighten against the satin of her dress. When their lips parted, both gasping for air, Bellatrix recovered first, diving down to kiss her neck.
“You’re so beautiful,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to Hermione’s pulse point. “I’ve wanted you for so long.”
“Fuck…” Hermione moaned and then Bellatrix’s tongue was licking her collarbone, before she nibbled at it, making Hermione’s hips jerk. “Please, touch me, I-”
Bellatrix claimed her lips in a kiss again and Hermione felt them moving. She felt the desk press into her ass and then Bellatrix was lifting her onto the edge. She ran her hands up her arms and squeezed her biceps, moaning again.
She felt Bellatrix’s fingers on her thighs, urging her legs apart, but they wouldn’t go further in the dress. She broke the kiss and tried to shift, to lift the dress higher.
“I love this dress, but damn,” Bellatrix chuckled. “If you didn’t have to walk out of here I’d rip it off you.”
“Fuck,” Hermione whimpered. Bellatrix kissed her hard and then sank to her knees, running her nails up Hermione’s thighs and disappearing under the material. Hermione whimpered as Bellatrix’s breath teased her and then she felt her mouth pressing a kiss against the lace of Hermione’s underwear. Hermione’s hips jerked and she supported herself on the desk, gripping the edges, lifting her hips slightly to allow the other woman better access. She could feel her wetness pooling and then Bellatrix was pushing the lace aside and pressing her tongue flat against Hermione, making her gasp.
She lapped at her like she was starving and Hermione’s knuckles were white from gripping the desk as her hips rolled into Bellatrix’s face.
“Yes… oh god… yes…” Hermione moaned and she felt herself nearing the edge, her hips losing rhythm; she was starting to see stars. “Fuck!”
Her head thrown back, Hermione came hard, tightening her thighs around Bellatrix’s head reflexively, keeping her in place as she continued to lap at her. Only when she was a quivering mess, limp from the force of her orgasm, could Bellatrix withdraw, kissing her thighs as she did.
“Exquisite,” she hummed, licking her lips before kissing Hermione gently. “Are you alright?”
“Yes…No...” Hermione replied breathily. “I am so much more than alright.”
Bellatrix chuckled and pressed another kiss to her.
“Come home with me?”
“Yes.” Hermione murmured. “Please.”
Bellatrix grinned and withdrew, taking her hand.
“Can you walk?”
Hermione chuckled.
“You think I’ve lost the ability from one orgasm?”
Bellatrix smirked.
“Maybe.”
Hermione stood, wobbling slightly and then arched her eyebrow.
“There. Besides, I said I’d go home with you, but I didn’t say right now.”
“When?” Bellatrix murmured, pulling her close, brushing her nose against Hermione’s.
“When I’ve had my turn.” Hermione grinned, her hands pulling the shirt out of Bellatrix’s trousers at the front, before unbuttoning the top button. “Unless you really want to wait all that time?”
“No,” Bellatrix replied breathily, kissing her. “I don’t.”
Hermione made short work of the buttons, slipping her hand inside and cupping Bellatrix. She was wet and she groaned into Hermione’s mouth as she circled her clit teasingly.
“Shouldn’t you be sitting down?”
Bellatrix chuckled and then moaned as Hermione pressed her palm into her clit.
“Fuck… maybe.” Hermione ground her palm into Bellatrix’s clit until the woman’s knees buckled. “Okay yes. Yes.”
Chuckling, Hermione withdrew and then hooked her finger into the band of Bellatrix’s trousers, leading her around to the other side of the desk. She shifted her laptop and other things out of the way and then gently pushed Bellatrix back against the desk.
“Up.”
“Are you trying to boss me around in the bedroom?” Bellatrix chuckled. “Or in my office, which is even more bold.”
“I’m trying to fuck you,” Hermione said cheekily, “Bellatrix.”
Bellatrix chuckled and then kicked off her heels before dropping her trousers. Hermione’s eyes scanned her as she sat on the desk and leaned back on her hands, leaving herself open to Hermione with a challenging eyebrow.
“Then fuck me.”
Hermione closed the distance immediately, pressing hot and hungry kisses to Bellatrix’s lips and her fingers moved slowly up her thighs. She slipped her hand between them and pressed against Bellatrix again, feeling the woman moan into her mouth as she slipped two fingers inside of her. She set a slow, teasing pace until Bellatrix bit her lip and then she slammed into her to the knuckle, making Bellatrix cry out raggedly. She kept that roughness up, adding a third finger and making Bellatrix growl.
“Fuck, Hermione…” Bellatrix arched. “God yes. There, fuck…”
Hermione kissed her hard as Bellatrix started tightening around her fingers.
“Come for me,” she murmured against her lips and Bellatrix inhaled sharply, before she came loudly. Hermione kept moving as much as she could with Bellatrix so tight around her fingers and when Bellatrix began to kiss her again, she broke away and sat in her office chair, rolling it forward and pressing her lips to her clit.
“What- oh!” Bellatrix’s hips jerked forward as Hermione lapped at her. “Fuck, Hermione, I… Oh….yes…”
Fingers tangled in Hermione’s hair and tightened as she licked, sucked and even nibbled at Bellatrix’s clit, slipping two fingers back inside and curling them back towards herself until Bellatrix was panting and her head was thrown back.
She came again and Hermione gladly lapped her clean as she quivered and then she sat back in her chair and smirked, pleased with herself. Bellatrix was supporting herself on her elbows, panting, looking at her with a grin.
“Oh I have underestimated you, haven’t I?”
“Maybe,” Hermione grinned.
“You look good in my chair.” Bellatrix stood up and began pulling her trousers back on. “But now we’re going. I need you out of that dress.”
“Yes boss,” Hermione grinned wickedly. That earned her a slap to her ass and a smirk from Bellatrix.
“None of that. Bellatrix, or Bella, please.” She pulled her in for a kiss. “I want to hear you say my name.”
“Yes, Bella,” Hermione hummed. “And I’ll scream it for you later, too.”