Together We're Harmony Chapter 12 (Patreon)

Content Warnings: Free Use, BJs, Cum Play, Orgasm Denial, Teasing, Protocol.

Hermione groaned quietly into her pillow as the gentle buzz of the alarm shattered her pleasant dreamscape and dragged the reluctant girl back to the real world. Her hand instinctively moved to the now ever-present collar around her neck. The feel of the soft leather reminded her that as good as dreams were, they could never compare to her new reality.

The only thing I’d bring over from my dreams is a room that stays as warm as our bed so I don’t struggle to get out of bed every morning, she mused, wondering if it was finally time to look into charms to make sure the fire in the tiny heater in their room didn’t die out in the wee hours of the day. It hadn’t been a priority for them given how much of the house needed fixing, but it had been unseasonably cold for July and she was suddenly regretting not asking Harry to take care of it before starting work on building a nursery.

She lazily reached out and slapped the still-buzzing alarm, finally silencing it. She wasn’t concerned about it waking her husband, she had specifically charmed it to ensure only she heard the buzzing. It was easier to get done with the first part of her day before her master woke up.

Master.

It was a term that both of them were still getting used to. She’d discovered he liked it in moderation, and only as a break from her calling him ‘sir’ or ‘daddy’. She didn’t use his name in private anymore. They’d been discovering a lot about each other in their first week as a married couple. It was almost as if the last remaining hurdle in their relationship had finally been removed and both of them were now fully free to be true to their real selves.

She gently slipped out of bed, hissing when her feet hit the cold floor. “We definitely need heating charms before we renovate anything else,” she mumbled under her breath, walking on her toes till she reached her fuzzy bunny slippers and slipped them on. She shivered at the gust of cold air blowing in through the small crack in the bedroom window and slamming against her naked body.

“Maybe the second thing,” she murmured, slipping into the bathroom before she gave into temptation and slipped back into bed to cuddle up against her daddy’s incredibly warm and comfortable body. She quickly brushed her teeth, washing her face and running a brush through her tangled hair to ensure she was halfway presentable before she tiptoed over to Harry’s side of the bed and kneeled in front of his nightstand, hands resting on her thighs with palms facing upwards and her head bowed.

Harry’s alarm would ring exactly an hour later, giving her ample time to both organize her thoughts and slip into subspace. She enjoyed the peaceful serenity of kneeling next to his quietly snoring form and the freedom of sneaking in the occasional glance to marvel at her husband’s body.

“Goodmorning.”

Hermione forced herself to keep her gaze trained on the floor. “Goodmorning, sir,” she whispered, letting him hook a finger under her chin and raise her head himself. He lay sideways on the bed and Hermione shivered from a combination of the cold and the hungry look in his eyes.

I’m his wife, she reminded herself, a giddy smile on her face.

“Happy today, are we?” Harry asked, his free hand rubbing his sleepy eyes. He ran his fingers through his tousled hair to tame it, and Hermione had the sudden urge to request him to stop. She liked him like this. He was at his purest after he’d just woken up and there was a certain beauty to it that never failed to take her breath away.

He reached down and gently smacked her breast, his fingers pinching a rosy peak that had long since hardened in the cold morning air. “I asked you a question, pet.”

“I-Ah!” She groaned at his gentle twisting of her nub. “Yes, daddy. Our official honeymoon starts tomorrow. I can’t wait for the sunny beaches and actual warmth,” she murmured, her eyes fluttering shut. Ever since their transition to a 24/7 life, she found it far too easy to slip into subspace. One look, a single touch was enough for her to float away, unmoored from the tensions and worries of the world.

Daddy will take care of everything.

“I’ve told you not to kneel, darling. At least, not till I finish renovating our bedroom,” Harry murmured, releasing his hold on her nipple. He chuckled at her hiss of disappointment, watching his wife gently arch her back to push her modest bust up in his direction, clearly hoping to entice him to play with his pet before they got on with their day.

“I like it. I promised to serve you, sir,” Hermione reminded him. “Neither my marriage vows nor my submissive contract has an opt-out clause. What kind of pet would I be if I don’t perform my duties just because of minor discomfort?”

“What kind of pet disobeys her master’s orders?”

“The kind that knows she can disobey as many of them as she wants so long as she understands she’ll be punished for her misbehavior,” Hermione answered cheekily.

Harry laughed. “Well, you got me there. This is what I get for marrying the smartest witch in the world, I suppose,” he teased, slowly getting out of bed.

Hermione licked her lips, unable to stop her eyes from flickering up to the tent in her lover’s boxers that was now inches from her face. “If my words annoy you, sir, you could always gag me,” she said, batting her eyelashes innocently.

Harry simply patted her head and left her kneeling next to their bed, picking up his glasses from the nightstand on his way to the bathroom. He returned to find his wife still in the same position he had left her in, a contemplative look on her face.

“What’s on your mind, darling?” Harry asked, pulling a simple gray t-shirt over his head.

“I’m just thinking about how marriage has changed me,” Hermione answered with a small smile. “Well, to be more accurate, how our new lifestyle has changed me. I don't have to juggle between being normal me, a brat, and a princess anymore. Being in this dynamic all the time has somehow… enmeshed it all into one harmonious whole. I’m happier, more relaxed, less wound up. It’s wonderful,” Hermione said, her lips curling into a bashful smile at the fond expression on her husband’s face. “Sorry, I’ll tone it down.”

“Not at all. I like the new Mione,” Harry whispered, bending to capture her lips. “She makes me happy. I just hope I can return the favor.”

“You’ve always made me happy, sir,” Hermione murmured against his lips. “Always. I’m just… finally at peace now.”

“It’s a long time coming, don’t you think?”

Hermione nodded. “What about you?”

“Getting there.” Harry caressed her cheek with his palm, simply basking in her presence for a minute before he straightened.

“I’m going to go get the paper and ask Kreacher to get started on breakfast.” Hermione was on the verge of getting up when he added, “don’t move.”

“Yes, sir.”

She watched him walk out of their bedroom, wondering what he had in mind. While most of her day was regimented, he had left open slots in her schedule to allow room for spontaneity. The hour they had to themselves before breakfast was one such slot. Usually, they simply talked about their plans for the day while they cuddled and she kept his morning wood warm in her cunt, but she had a feeling they’d be doing something different.

Maybe we’re starting his birthday celebration early, she mused, quivering with suppressed excitement.

“Darling, what’re you going to tell Kingsley? I mean, we’re going to be gone for a month,” Harry asked as he reentered the room, his eyes scanning the front page of the Daily Prophet.

“Where’d that come from, sir?” Hermione asked, amused. Having that conversation was not how she had envisioned their morning going.

“I’m just reading the article on him filling Wizengamot’s empty seats,” Harry replied, lighting the wood inside their heater with his wand. “Front page news. He’s making some bold decisions.”

“I guess I’ll just tell him the truth. I’m getting tired of taking off my wedding ring for work everyday.” She watched him sit down in the armchair and slowly crawled to kneel next to his feet, desperate to share in some of the warmth.

“That’s true. Do you think he’ll give you a month off?”

“I think so.” She rested her head on his knee, watching him unfold the paper. “If I can get you to agree to take your place in Wizengamot, he’ll probably give me a year off. He keeps asking me to convince you,” Hermione admitted, kissing his sun-tanned skin.

“The only thing I want to be responsible for is you, pet. Tell Kingsley I need… I don’t know, a few years,” Harry muttered.

“That’s what I told him. I told him you’ve done enough for the Wizarding World. You deserve to live the life you want now. It’s time for others to pick up the slack.”

“And what life is that, darling?” Harry teased.

“I thought you’re already living it, daddy.”

“If I was, I’d have a submissive who used her mouth for something a little more useful than talking politics, Mrs. Potter,” Harry said, turning a page.

Hermione blushed. The intent behind his words was clear. She was still getting used to the reality of being available to him anytime, anywhere, and to the idea of him using her as casually as he… read the paper.

She crawled into the space between his legs, letting him lift his hips before she grabbed the edges of his boxers and pulled them down his legs. “Daddy?” Hermione whispered, biting her lips to suppress her whimper. She ignored the trickle of arousal leaking out of her neglected womanhood.

“Yes, pet?”

“Can I please cum today?” Hermione begged, wrapping her hands around his massive girth and slowly pumping his shaft, coaxing his cock to its full size. It had been nearly three days since he had allowed her to orgasm. She could handle that on its own, but he had paired it with constantly keeping her on the edge, and it was finally starting to drive her crazy.

“I don’t think rewarding my slut’s bad behavior is a good idea, Mione,” Harry answered coldly.

She looked up at her dominant, confused. He was still reading the paper, his face hidden from her. Bad behavior? She hadn’t broken any rules.

The kneeling, her mind reminded her.

It was a test. He was making her choose between her pleasure and her duty.

“Daddy?” Hermione whispered, her voice full of innocence. She leaned forward and kissed his massive cockhead, her tongue darting out to capture the drop of precum hanging from its tip.

“Y-yes?” Harry’s breath hitched. Hermione grinned.

“Nobody has given me a test that I’ve failed,” she reminded him. “I’m going to earn that O.”

With that, she opened her mouth as wide as she could, using her hands to guide inch after inch of his cock into its warm embrace. She didn’t stop even when his tip hit the back of her throat, her tongue tracing the pulsating veins crisscrossing his shaft as she swallowed his entire length.

“F-fuck,” Harry moaned, clutching the paper hard enough to rip it into two. He tossed the pages to the floor, finally coming face to face with his wife. He was met with two warm brown eyes staring lovingly up at him as she hollowed her cheeks and sucked on his dick.

Hermione reached up to grab his wrist, taking a second to purposely flash the wedding ring on her finger in his face before she pulled his hand down into her hair. Her invitation needed no explanation.

Her mouth, like the rest of her body, was his to use as he pleased.

“Mione?”

“Mhm?” She mumbled around his cock, sinking down on the last inch. She let her eyes flutter shut as her face buried in his crotch, concentrating on breathing through her nose and suppressing her gag reflex.

“I love you.”

“I love you!” She gasped once he had pulled her free of his cock, a thin trail of drool connecting her swollen lips to its tip.

Harry didn’t push her back down on it. He wrapped his free hand around his shaft and started to masturbate, using his hold in her hair to keep her pinned in place.

“Look at me,” he ordered. Hermione reluctantly pulled her eyes away from her master’s cock, shivering at the unadulterated need in his lust-filled emerald eyes.

The man wanted to ravish her till she was a barely conscious mess.

“One day left, daddy,” she whispered. Her body was her birthday gift to him. She was his gift. And she was well aware how eager he was to unwrap her.

“It can’t come soon enough,” Harry muttered through gritted teeth, collapsing into the chair as he sped up his pumping. Precum was oozing out of his tip and coating his shaft and hand, and Hermione subconsciously strained against his hold, her tongue stretching out in a desperate attempt to lap it up.

She was panting, needy, and so very desperate. And he was denying her even the simple pleasure of serving him.

“Please let me suck your cock, sir!” Hermione begged, squirming, leaning forward as much as she could to capture his throbbing manhood with her lips.

“Are you going to stop kneeling until I fix the window and the heater?”

“Are you going to stop being my master till that time?” Hermione countered.

“You’re an incorrigible brat, slut,” Harry growled, pulling her closer for just long enough for his cock to slap her cheek only to push her away when she turned in a desperate attempt to lick his hand.

“You’re far too soft on me, sir,” Hermione shot back. “I am your slut. Sluts are supposed to kneel,” she added boldly, revealing in her newfound confidence. He had helped her connect with her sexuality, and for that alone she would adore him for the rest of their days together.

“And what happens if you catch a cold?”

“My daddy takes care of me,” Hermione replied stubbornly. It was a matter of principle. “Mhmmm,” she squealed as a trickle of cum shot out of his cock and hit her lips. She immediately licked it clean, grinning as the familiar scent and salty taste consumed her senses.

“We leave for Australia tomorrow, daddy,” Hermione reminded him, reaching out with her hands to fondle his balls. She rolled them between her fingers, gently massaging the cum-engorged orbs with the barest of pressure. “So this is all an academic discussion anyways.”

“I… m-merlin…” Harry groaned. He glanced down at her, only for her to respond with an impish grin. “Who are you and what have you done with Hermione Granger?” Harry whispered, his eyes shut, lips parted in a quiet moan. His cock was gently twitching in his hands and Hermione knew he was seconds away from an explosive climax.

“Gone. You’re going to have to live with me for the rest of your life, sir.”

“And who are you?”

He’d asked her the exact same question a week ago. She had been confused then. She wasn’t confused anymore.

“I’m Hermione Potter. I’m the smartest witch of our generation. I’m your wife. I’m your slut. I’m your princess. I’m all that and so much more.” She closed her eyes as the first rope of his cum slammed into her face, coating her skin from forehead to chin.

“I… you… fuck…” Harry breathed, weakly pumping his cock as he rode out his orgasm, coating her face with his seed. She captured as much of it as she could on her tongue, but the majority of it ended up on her face and breasts, leaving her a sticky mess before the sun had even arisen.

Hermione kneeled in place while Harry recovered, lazily fondling his balls with a hand while the other gripped his thigh, the diamond in her wedding ring glinting in the dim light of the room.

“It’s nice to see you like this.” His voice was soft, and she could detect a distinct note of pride in it.

Hermione opened her eyes, her lashes matted with his cum. “I doubt any man dislikes seeing his wife’s face splattered with his seed, sir,” she teased, capturing a drop before it trickled into her eye with a finger. She popped the finger in her mouth and made a show of licking it cleaning, moaning quietly.

“Fair… but that’s not what I meant,” Harry chuckled. “It’s good to see you confident. Comfortable in your own skin and your own… sexuality, I guess.”

“It’s a work in progress. Most of it is thanks to you.”

“Most of it?” Harry raised an eyebrow.

“Have you ever had Luna compliment your ass, daddy?”

“I can’t say I’ve had the pleasure.”

“It does wonders for your self-confidence.” Hermione grinned. She slowly shifted until she was sitting on the floor, lazily eating his cum. They sat like that in silence for a few minutes, both husband and wife enjoying each other's presence. Hermione steadily cleaned her face while Harry lounged in the chair, basking in post-orgasmic bliss.

“Do you want me to get a tissue for you?” Hermione looked at Harry’s messy hand when he finally pulled it away from his cock. “Or will you be joining me in the shower, sir?” Hermione asked hopefully.

“Why waste a perfectly good tissue when I have my own cumrag, Mrs. Potter?” Harry drawled lazily. He pulled her closer, shifting the hand in her hair to grab a handful of her luscious brown locks. He used them to wipe his hand clean, whistling happily as he did so. She was gushing at the unexpectedly casual way with which he was using her body, rivulets of her arousal dripping out of her needy pussy and streaming down her thighs.

Fuck me. How does he come up with new ways to turn me on every single day?

She watched as he wrapped a makeshift braid of her hair around his shaft next, wiping it clean as well before he stood on unsteady feet, slowly making his way to his closet. He pulled out a pair of clean boxers and blue trackpants, quickly changing into his jogging clothes. Hermione simply lay in the position he had left her in and watched, having neither the strength of will nor body to get up and get started with her day.

“Shower and be ready for inspection by the time I’m back,” Harry murmured, bending to kiss her forehead before continuing his walk out of the room.

“Yes, sir,” Hermione mumbled.

Shower. Vibrator. Much-needed orgasm.

“Oh, and Mrs. Potter?” Hermione looked up to see Harry poking his head back inside their bedroom.

“Yes sir?”

“You’re not allowed to touch yourself until I give you my express permission to do so.”

FUCK!

Notes:

I have a special place in my heart for this story. Should I hold a vote for baby names? Theyr're not naming their child Albus Severus, that's for certain.