Her Bound Heart Ch. 7 (Patreon)

Content Warnings: Ripped Clothes, Outdoors, Rough.

“No way.”

Harry was waiting for her in front of the building that for all intents and purposes, appeared to be a private club to Muggles. He was leaning against a silver convertible. “Like it?” He reached out with a hand to grab her wrist, pulling her into a hug.

“You know, I keep expecting you to be just another stodgy businessman of the type Ginny used to see and you keep defying my expectations. I absolutely thought you’d have a boring, practical car,” Hermione teased, sinking happily into his chest. There was something to be said about his strong arms wrapping around her after a long, hard day. She’d never expected her courses to be easy, but if she had to learn about another clause of the International Statute of Secrecy, her head would explode.

“Had a productive first day?” Harry asked, gently running a thumb down her cheek. His hand moved to her neck, to the choker she had asked him to put on her while getting dressed in the morning. After a week uncollared, she decided it was high time they got back to the routines she was supposed to follow.

“Mhm. How was your day?”

“Toured the new apothecary site, wrote a letter to Susan reminding her to be home for my father’s birthday, nothing special.” Harry cupped her cheeks, pulling her up for a kiss.

God, she loved his lips.

She melted into the kiss, moaning quietly as his tongue swiped against her lips, demanding entry. She submitted to him immediately, giving into the advances of the man who could set her body ablaze with a single look. His teeth nipped at her lower lip, his hands ghosting over her curves until they wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer. Throughout it all his tongue plundered the warmth of her mouth, exploring freely as it playfully dueled with hers.

“Sir…” Hermione sighed. They had separated for air and she knew she had to pull away. Yet she stayed, happily standing on his feet to eliminate their height difference. She rested her forehead against his, their lips inches apart as she panted for breath.

“Yes, pumpkin?”

Pumpkin. He seemed to have a new nickname for her every day. It made her feel warm and fuzzy for reasons unknown.

“People are watching,” she whispered. She could see her friends and classmates at the top of the steps of the building from the corner of her eye. Every single person was staring at them and she knew exactly what they were thinking.

“And?”

“And I had a lecture today in a lecture hall bearing your family name and now I’m kissing you. People will talk,” she mumbled, shuddering as his hand moved up to brush a strand of her hair behind her ear.

“People talk. That’s what they do.”

“And what if reporters start digging?”

“You don’t need to worry about your career, darling. The major presses all know the rules. No pieces on my personal life.”

“And they just… follow the rule? Because you ask them to?”

“Well, they didn’t at first. Their harassment of Susan got so bad that she splinched half her leg trying to apparate away from them,” Harry explained, opening the door and helping her climb into the car. “Landed herself in St. Mungo’s for ten days. After that, I decided enough was enough so I asked dad to do something.”

“What’d he do?”

“He bought a stake in every damned paper of any importance and told reporters that if they did pieces like the one that landed Susan in the hospital anymore, they could kiss their careers goodbye. Why do you think Skeeter behaves these days?” Harry hopped into the car. He pushed the key into the ignition and turned it, revving the car. “Is it completely ethical? Not particularly. But I’m not going to let their obsession with me ruin the lives of those around me. I got him to apply the same rule to everyone. No gossip, no slander, and absolutely no infringing on the private lives of people.”

“You know, I used to think you were normal rich, but now I’m getting the feeling that you’re Scrooge McDuck rich,” Hermione mumbled, leaning back into the seat and turning to him with a smile. “I quite like being a rich man’s kept woman.”

“You’re nobody’s kept woman, Hermione.” Harry snorted. “In five years' time I’m pretty sure people are going to point at me and say, ‘There goes Hermione Granger’s arm candy’,” he teased with a grin.

“Oh, so I’ll be around after five years?”

“If you play your cards right.”

“What cards might those be, I wonder?” Hermione carefully popped open the top button of her blouse. Ginny had told her that she could tell him that she was ready for the next step, or she could show him…

Summoning up every ounce of courage she possessed, she reached out and wrapped her hand around his crotch. “I wonder if you’ll trade me in for a prettier model if I’m the kitten of your dreams, Mr. Potter.”

Harry clutched the steering wheel, his knuckles white. “Merlin, woman! You could have caused an accident!”

“Your car has the same enchantments that all magical vehicles do, right? I felt a slight buzz as I climbed in,” Hermione asked, knowing she was right.

Harry swore under his breath. There were times he forgot his sugar baby was the smartest person on the bloody island.

“Y-yes. It does,” Harry murmured, his cock quickly hardening under her grip.

“So you won’t crash into anything. Even if you drive like Mr. Weasley does.”

“Does Mr. Weasley… drive badly?”

“Every time I got into the car with him, we spent half the time on the pavement.”

“I’m a much better driver than Mr. Weasley. Sirius saw to that,” Harry murmured, carefully navigating the London traffic.

“And nobody will notice us.”

“Muggles won’t. Witches and wizards are much harder to fool.”

“The chances of us running across a witch or wizard driving through the London suburbs are minuscule,” Hermione pointed out, carefully undoing the zip of his trousers.

“But not zero.”

“I’ll take that risk,” Hermione said cheerfully, her hand slipping into his pants.

“Hermione Granger, what in Merlin’s name are you doing?” Harry hissed even as his body reacted to her. His cock jumped into her waiting hand, straining against his boxers.

“Showing you,” Hermione replied like it was obvious.

“You’re going to have to elaborate on that, kitten.”

“Yesterday, after the spanking you massaged my ass and sent me off to bed.”

“That’s the point of a punishment.”

“This morning you kissed me but did nothing else. You didn’t even help me pick out my clothes even though the rules clearly state you need to give final approval to whatever I pick. I had to ask you to collar me.” She slipped her hand into his boxers, gently wrapping her slender fingers around the base of his shaft.

“Mione-”

“I get it. And I appreciate everything you’ve done this past week. You helped me be comfortable with my own desires, sir. You helped me understand what I want and why that’s completely fine,” she whispered, tracing a vein running along his length with a finger. “But I know every rule and boundary now. I know my limits and I know what I want. Most importantly, I can’t do what you’ve made me promise to do. I can’t focus on my classes and coursework when my brain keeps throwing up fantasies of you doing… I spent Con Law imagining you fucking me on the professor’s desk, sir.”

“That’s a very long-winded way of saying you’re horny, princess.” Harry chuckled. His laughter turned into a groan as she gently began to pump his cock.

“I’m horny.” Her desperation had stripped her of any inhibitions, not that she had a lot of them around him to begin with anyways.

“Be a good girl and take your hand out of my pants.”

“If I don’t?”

“I’ll edge you for a week.”

Hermione gulped. If she had learned anything from her playful demand of punishment, it was that her sugar daddy did not mess about when it came to them. She hastily pulled her hand out of his trousers, a small pout on her face.

“Good girl.”

“Where are we going?” she asked, trying her best not to sound too petulant. She flopped back in her seat, her arms crossed over her chest.

“Potter Manor. Thought we’d take advantage of the sunny day and have a picnic on the patio after I showed you the library. I got ice cream and sandwiches.” Harry gestured to the picnic basket on the ludicrously small backseat.

Hermione grinned. He had remembered!

“If we… you know… mess around on the patio… won’t the people who work in the Manor see? Do you have people working in the Manor? I bet it’s a job and a half to maintain something like that,” Hermione rambled, suddenly nervous. “I really don’t want your father thinking I’m a sex pest.”

“Just wait. I’m thinking a slight change of plans is in order.”

And that was all he’d say on the subject. So they lapsed into a comfortable silence, Hermione reaching out to grab the hand resting on the gear stick. After about fifteen minutes of driving Harry swerved onto a country road, the bumpy path leading to large wrought iron gates. The wards immediately recognized his presence and the doors swung open, the car driving down a smooth road.

Hermione studied the ivy-covered manor in the distance with wide eyes, forcing herself to shut her mouth every few minutes.

“You’re so definitely Scrooge McDuck rich,” she murmured.

“Who’s Scrooge McDuck?”

“He was a duck who was very very rich.”

“Why would a duck be rich? What would it even do with the money?”

“What? No, it was a Muggle cartoon on the telly. I loved watching him as a kid.”

Harry smiled. It was one of the few details about her past that she had volunteered and he treasured every morsel of information as the gem it was.

“Do you still like it?” Harry asked, turning the car down a side path instead of driving up to the manor. The grounds of the estate were huge and most of the building wasn’t even visible from where they were.

“I haven’t watched it in years.”

“I could get a television for the apartment. We could watch something together. Doesn’t have to be Scrooge McDuck seeing how you already have one of those in your life,” Harry teased.

Hermione playfully slapped his arm, settling more and more into her role as his brat with each passing day. The more comfortable she was, the more she opened up to him, her true nature inevitably shining through. “I’d love that. We could watch documentaries. I miss my polar bears,” she said softly, squeezing his hand as thanks.

Harry parked the car next to a shut wicker gate. He jumped out of the car and rushed to open her door. Hermione reached back and grabbed the picnic basket before climbing out, looking at the garden that lay beyond the closed gate with wide eyes.

“Gimme the basket, darling.”

Hermione handed it over to him. He promptly placed it on the stone bench by the entrance before turning to look at Hermione.

“Why are we here?” she asked, fiddling with the latch of the gate.

“Well, as I said, I was hoping to show you the library in the Manor but you gave me an idea. We should play a game.”

“What kind of game?”

“Well, the hedge garden is practically a maze. I give you a thirty-second head start and then chase you. If it takes me more than five minutes to catch you… you get to cum. If I catch you in less than five minutes-”

“I get edged for a week?”

Harry’s eyes sparkled. “Exactly.”

Hermione knew she should have said no. She had no idea about the layout of the garden. He had probably spent his childhood playing in it. He had all the advantages and she bore all the risk.

“I’m in.” It wasn’t like she needed to cum anyways. She could survive a week on the edge, right?

“Are you sure?” Harry reached out and unbolted the gate, letting it swing open.

“God, no. The sane part of my brain is yelling at me to ask you to take me to the Manor and have plain, boring sex with me in one of its bedrooms but I really want to see your face when I beat you and last more than five minutes,” Hermione replied with a grin.

“You realize I win either way, right?”

“Nobody likes a smartass, sir,” Hermione whispered, leaning up to peck his lips. She knew she (or more precisely her ass) would surely pay the price for her cheek in the near future but sometimes a girl simply couldn’t help herself.

Brats poked fun at their dominant and got spanked for their efforts. It was tradition.

And who was she to argue against tradition?

“Nobody likes a sore loser either,” Harry murmured, his lips twitching.

“If you’re so confident, tell me the rules and start the time.”

“I did tell you the rules.”

Hermione sat down on the bench, pulling off the pumps she wore. There was no such thing as a friendly competition in her books. She needed every advantage she could get because she was going to wipe the floor with her sugar daddy, get him to fuck her as hard as possible then spend a lazy evening cuddling him. “You didn’t explain everything. What does catching me mean? Because I feel you simply tapping my shoulder and declaring me caught is unfair.”

“You’re caught when I manage to pin you down for three seconds.”

“Ten.”

“Five,” Harry countered.

“You have a deal, Mr. Potter.” Hermione unzipped her professional and rather constricting skirt and carelessly tossed it into the car, slowly squatting a couple of times. She grinned when she saw that his gaze was fixated on her slender legs, realizing she had one last card to play to maximize her chances to win. “We should plan this next time. Do it at night.” She sauntered over to him, marveling at her own confidence. It was the most precious thing he had given her. After years of being treated as less than a woman with Ron, she treasured this feeling of being a goddess, of being with a man who made his desire for her evident in every action and look. She was only this way when they were alone, but as she reminded herself, one had to learn to walk before one could fly. “I could be Little Red Riding Hood and you could be the Big Bad Wolf,” she whispered, leaning up to kiss him, her hand moving to his rock-hard cock. They were surrounded by tall hedges on both sides, making it impossible for anyone to spy on them unless they were to enter the garden itself.

Harry groaned, his entire body quivering with a week’s worth of pent-up lust.

“Just a thought. Anyways, time starts now!” With that Hermione ran through the open gate, giggling at the disappointed grunt behind her.

It took Harry more than thirty seconds to recover, the man shaking his head and hastily doing up the fly of his trousers before giving chase. It wasn’t that difficult to track her, the muffled giggling meant finding her was the easy part.

The first time he located her he managed to corner her against the statute of Tellermon the Wise.

“Caught you,” he grinned, pinning her between his body and the stone sculpture.

“Getting cocky, are we?” She stuck her tongue out at him, before adding a cheeky, “sir.”

Harry grabbed her hips and effortlessly hoisted the tiny girl onto the statue, making her stand on the base and pinning her in place by making sure the collar of her shirt was caught in the man’s outstretched wand. “One,” he counted, a smirk on her face.

He only got to three. Hermione twisted and turned to no avail. In the end, she simply strained as hard as she could, ripping a part of her shirt and leaving it on Tellermon’s wand as she hopped to her feet and sprinted away laughing.

The second time he cornered her was in one of the many clearings in the maze, tackling her onto the soft grass. This time, she wasn’t so lucky.

“You’re heavy!” Hermione moaned despondently, slapping his chest in a futile effort to push him off her.

It wasn’t what doomed her, however. He simply smirked and pinned her hands to the ground and kissed her hard, his hips gently grinding against hers.

For the first time in her life, Hermione thought the idea of losing a contest was terribly appealing.

“A+ for effort, Miss Granger,” Harry teased when they pulled away for air.

Hermione gazed up at the man looming over her, her swollen pink lips parted slightly as she panted for air. “I didn’t last five minutes?” she asked, a small pout on her face.

Harry glanced at his wristwatch. “Actually, you lasted nearly seven.”

“Aha! I won.” She stuck her tongue out at him, her eyes nearly popping out of her head when he casually reached out and pinched it with his fingers.

“You realize you’re going to pay for all this cheek, don’t you, kitten?” He released her tongue after a few seconds. He stayed on top of her, straddling her waist, keeping her pinned in place even though their little game was over.

“Worth it,” Hermione mumbled, her eyes sparkling playfully. “Now that you’ve caught me, Mr. Potter, what do you intend to do with me?”

Harry climbed off her, wordlessly flipping her over to her belly. He roughly pulled her up to her hands and knees, a hand grabbing her ponytail and pulling her up against his chest.

“Hermione Granger,” Harry whispered, his breath hot on her ear. “You drive me crazy.”

I drive you crazy?! I creamed my panties and you haven’t even touched me yet!

“You’re mine,” Harry growled, grabbing her shirt and ripping it open. The buttons of her blouse popped free and flew everywhere, drawing a surprised gasp from the girl. He grabbed her chin. “Do you understand?”

Fuck. He’s hot when he’s possessive.

“Yes, sir,” Hermione whispered, just about ready to melt into a puddle.

“Do you like the underwear you’re wearing?”

Hermione shook her head. It was a simple white cotton set, one of a million that she owned. Cheap and practical, two things that had come to define her life before she met him. “Not particularly.”

Harry hooked his fingers under the straps of her bra, snapping them with ease. The garment itself was next, his strong arms easily ripping the thin cotton fabric in two and letting the ruined bra hang off her body. Her panties received a similar treatment, fluttering down onto the grass in front of her as Harry pressed his raging erection against her firm bum.

“Do you remember your safe words?” Harry asked, his finger gently circling her areola.

“I do, sir. And I want this,” she whispered, her voice filled with quiet conviction. “I want you. I want the life I’ve never had.”

Harry kissed her cheek, his hands moving to unbutton his trousers. She could feel the desperation in his actions, the desires he had been fighting to suppress all week finally shining through. He couldn’t even wait long enough to properly undress to fuck…

Me, Hermione thought with a giddy smile.

Harry grabbed her thighs, his fingers digging into her creamy skin with enough force to leave bruises in their wake. He roughly pulled her legs apart, a startled gasp escaping her lips at the way he was treating her.

Back to normal. As things should be.

“Don’t worry,” he whispered, watching a dollop of her arousal leaking out of her throbbing womanhood. It splattered against the tip of his cock. “Nobody comes here.”

Hermione nodded, even though the danger of being caught was the furthest thing in her mind.

“F-fuck…” Hermione moaned. Harry had wasted no time, guiding his tip to her slit before slamming deep inside her tight, needy pussy.

Harry growled and grabbed her bare breast, pinching and tugging on her rapidly stiffening nipple. “Good girls don’t cuss.”

“Oh, so now you remember the rules?” Hermione gasped, a delirious smile on her face as she leaned back on his shoulder and began peppering his neck with kisses, worshiping her lover.

“Being a cheeky little brat today, are we?” Harry growled. His free hand traveled between her spread legs, down to her clit.

“OH, GOD!” Hermione screamed as Harry rammed inside her with his enormous length, combining the thrust with running the nail of his thumb across her sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Only… way…” Hermione panted. She had finally broken her sugar daddy’s resolve, the man thrusting in and out of her with a primal need to claim his kitten. The frustration that had been building up for an entire week finally had an outlet. “To… you… like…” Hermione rambled, too out of it to be coherent.

Harry was pistoning in and out of her tight pussy without pause, his hands freely roaming over her tiny body, pinching and spanking, claiming all of it as his own.

“I do like brats,” Harry whispered with an amused smile.

“Ah! Oh! HARRY!” Hermione bucked her hips when he pinched her clit, only his arm around her waist keeping her pinned firmly against his chest.

Harry. He normally hated it when his sugar babies called him by his name. By contrast, her desperate shriek sounded like divine music to his ears.

“S-sorry…” she mumbled, timidly kissing his jaw to apologize. He kept up his fast pace, her walls burning with a delicious ache as they were stretched by his thick girth every few seconds.

Harry moved his hand from her chest to her slender neck, gently wrapping it around her throat and squeezing. The haze that had descended over her mind intensified as he carefully cut off just enough air to make her work to breathe, the lack of oxygen amplifying every sensation coursing through her quivering body.

“Say my name,” Harry growled, burying his face in her luscious brown hair.

SLAP! SLAP! SLAP!

The sound of his balls smacking her thighs with every hard thrust filled the clearing and Hermione had to concentrate very hard to break free from the hypnotizing sound and follow her lover’s order.

“H-harry!” Hermione gasped, groaning as Harry pinched her clit and gently twisted the tiny nub.

“Again,” Harry ordered, his balls tightening. He was about to explode, the strength of the orgasm building up in the pit of his belly, unlike anything he had ever felt before.

“HARRY!” Hermione screamed as he tugged on her clit. She exploded around his throbbing manhood, coating his shaft with her juices as she squirted her arousal all over his thighs and the grass below them. Her body was a limp rag doll in his arms, held up only by his hands as he fucked her gushing pussy.

Her walls fluttered around his length, clamping down on his shaft every time he thrust inside her. “I… like… it…” he panted, closing his eyes and burrowing deeper into her hair. She reached out and weakly clasped their hands together, turning her head and pressing feverish kisses to his neck.

“Cum for me, sir,” Hermione coaxed tiredly. “I want your seed in me,” she cooed.

Harry groaned as he buried himself deep in her core, a sigh of relief escaping his lips as the tension in his balls disappeared. “C-cumming. Fuck!” Harry moaned, his throbbing cock flooding her pussy and womb with his cum. Thick ropes of white cum splattered her sore walls, slowly leaking out of her stretched pussy and making their way down her thighs.

“Hermione?” he called out softly, keeping his cock buried in her warmth.

“Yes, sir?” Her eyes were closed, a blissful smile on her face as she happily drowned in Subspace.

“I like it when you use my name.”

                                                                 ---

She happily lay on top of him, her back against his chest as she devoured the vanilla ice cream he’d gotten her while his hands lazily explored her naked body. He couldn’t get enough of her, which suited her just fine.

After spending an entire five-year relationship living like a hermit, she felt she deserved a man who made her feel sexy.

“Sir?”

“Hmm?” Harry lazily pinched a stiff nipple, drawing a surprised moan out of her.

“Were you really going to show me your family library?”

“Yes. Although we spectacularly derailed that plan, didn’t we?”

Hermione giggled and glanced at her ruined shirt. “There’s no way in hell I’m turning up to your family manor wearing only a skirt and your blazer.”

“Some other day, then.” Harry smiled, leaning against the stone fountain that held no water. His finger was tracing circles on her flat stomach, his other hand absentmindedly massaging her firm breast. “I just figured you’d get your reading lists today and there might be some books you’d like to borrow for a bit.”

“That’s… thank you.” Her sugar daddy was the most thoughtful man she had met. Hell, she knew boyfriends who did less for their partners and those were real relationships. Her ex was a prime example of such a man. “You let me win our little contest, didn’t you?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Harry swiped a dollop of ice cream that dripped down to her chest, popping the finger in his mouth.

“Please. You cornered me and the only thing you did was loosely pin me on a statue and stand far away. You didn’t even do anything to stop me when I wriggled free! You cheated.”

“You’ll never prove it,” Harry murmured with a chuckle.

Hermione pushed the last bit of the cone in her mouth before resting her head on her chest, closing her eyes, and concentrating on his heartbeat. “You know,” she mumbled, clutching a fistful of his shirt. “Everyone thinks you’re this arrogant, aloof man who doesn’t care about anyone or anything. I think… I think underneath all the muscles and the abs and the Richie Rich money… you’re a very nice person.”

Harry shook his head and leaned back against the stone parapet, closing his eyes. “You’re going to ruin me, Hermione Granger,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around her slender body and pulling her closer.

Notes:

So, one of you suggested incorporating ripped clothes and I've been reading a lot of Regency stuff with Manors and Balls and Hedge Gardens so I got an idea... I hope you enjoyed the chapter! If you've made a suggestion and haven't seen it yet, it'll happen in future chapters as they get closer and the trust between them builds. Right now they're very much in the learning more about each other phase!