Lucifer lined up the center of the wood against her cheeks, rubbing back and forth to sensitize her skin.
Right over her sweet spot. He gave her a few warning pats, and she cringed, the same way she had the first time he'd used the paddle. . . the tawse . . . and the cane.
Hermione had survived her born enemy the cane before, only for weird reasons his paddle now felt more scary.
Maybe, because he made this one on his own?
She didn't honestly think he was going to beat her black and blue.
'Hadn't he proven his restraint with me time and time again? Where's the inner brave girl?'
Drawing back his arm, he swiftly brought it back in with a firm whap!
Her eyes popped wide. "Thank you, sir!"
Lucifer let her adapt to the thumpy heat, giving her time to experience the hit's full radiance.
After several tremulous breaths, her rigid grip relaxed, and the tension in her body dissipated.
Apparently the deeper impact was a sensation she found somewhat alluring—at least that was what he assumed when she pulled back her legs even further, as if inviting him to take another swing.
Lucifer rewarded her exemplary fortitude with a soft pet for her pink sit spots.
"You're ready for the next lick, aren't you?"
Her nod was vigorous that time, causing her damp knickers to fall to her heaving chest.
Lucifer smirked and readjusted her face mask so the wet spot hooded her nose.
He wanted every one of her senses awash in the moment: the sound of the mahogany meeting her tender cheeks, the heady rush of overwhelming sensation, the sight of him above her, watching over her, and topping it all off, the scent of her own passion painting the air with proof of her desire.
And if she licked her lips, surely her tongue would catch a hint of that cream liberally smeared across the crotch.
The next hit should come unannounced.
She needed to let go of her fears.
Whap!
"Mmmmm! Thank you, sir."
"You're being very good so far, Hermione. You know how much that pleases me."
She stared into his eyes as if searching for some secret meaning behind his words.
There was no mystery. He wanted her to find strength in his praise. And she did. Every time.
With a quick visual assessment to ensure her backside was the proper shade of pink, Lucifer laid on another lick to deepen the rose to magenta.
Whap!
"Mm!" she growled. His aggressive little lion. "Thank you, sir."
"Halfway there," he said as he scooped up a trickle of her pussy juice with the tip of his pinky.
He couldn't let that go to waste.
Licking his finger clean, he coated his palate in her ambrosia.
Dammit! Why had he done that? He was drunk on her in an instant, his head reeling. More!
"My bum is throbbing, sir."
Lucifer forced himself back into the present, leaving the visceral images of him drinking from her chalice as inspiration for later. "I bet it is. Is your pussy throbbing as well?"
"I'm too scared to think about it."
Lucifer smiled and put his left hand over hers on her legs—for her forbearance as much as his own. "She'll see the light soon."
He popped her with another fast hit before she could start to worry.
Whap!
"Fuck! Thank you, sir."
"Language, Granger. You're only allowed to say fuck when I'm actually fucking you." He leaned over and snatched the knickers off her face.
"Open wide." She did, and Lucifer stuffed her mouth with pink and red pussy-scented hearts.
"Just a precaution," he said with a secretive smile. "I don't want you earning any extra strokes."
The threat sparked a flicker of panic in her eyes, and Hermione nodded vehemently, knicker elastic flying up to tap her nose.
"Two more," he said and, after taking a mental picture of her for future wanking, brought the paddle down on her reddened cheeks.
Whap!
"Mmmmm!" She inhaled roughly through her nose and released it in a ragged whoosh.
"I still expect a thank you."
"HaaayOooUhh," she mumbled around the cotton.
Biting his tongue to keep from laughing, Lucifer nodded. "Good girl. Last one. You know what that means."
She whimpered as if begging him not to make it any harder.
He always told her the last stroke would be the hardest, but if he thought she was too close to her limits, "harder" was more attitude than strength.
But this wasn't one of those times.
She needs some extra sting to send her into orbit.
Tapping, the wood against her bum, Lucifer built her up to the finale.
Pat pat pat
Pat PAT PAT.
Whap!
"Uhhhhh! HaaayOooUh!"
Lucifer reached over and pulled the gag from her mouth. "Why are you thanking me?"
"T-Thank you for teaching me a lesson, sir."
"Which was?"
"I have an auxiliary heartbeat in my arse."
Snickering, he gently touched her parted labia, tracing the slick pink of inner flesh. "Did that lion paddle some bravery into you?"
"I think he bit me."
Lucifer snorted and sank his middle finger into the snug heat of her sex.
"I like how wet he made you. Hear that? It sounds like you're an extra good girl now."
Hermione returned his smile and parted her legs slightly. "Where's my chocolate biscuit?"
His brow knitted in confusion. "What?"
Hermione giggled and spread her legs wider. "You're really going to finger my bum, right?"
"I promised I would. What's that got to do with biscuits?" Lucifer added another finger and twisted them around to hear her gasp.
"Nothing," she whispered. "Your fingers are better than any biscuit."
"I should hope so." Feeling along her front wall, he found her g-spot and dug in; it might be the one spot on her body that preferred no warmup.
"If you're going to list everything my fingers are better than, we could be here for quite some time."
"In your bed," she said, as if delighted by the very idea.
"If I had known the thought would turn you on so much, I would have brought you at Lux sooner."
Hermione reached down and touched his wrist, a soft smile on her lips. "It's not the bed, it's the boy in it."
He'd forgotten what it was like to be struck dumb by sentimentality.
Was she always so . . . gooey? Was this going to make him do humming in the halls and smiling at everyone like an over-medicated mental patient?
But, Lucifer could understand it.
Having a sexy girl telling you how much she wanted you? Not just your cock.
You.
Him.
Lucifer eased his fingers from her slit and slid them down to her pucker, where he traced her twitching sphincter and greased her arse in her own silky lubrication.
With a needy whimper, Hermione pulled her legs as wide as she could and opened herself to him completely.
Impaling her bum with his index and middle finger, Lucifer wallowed in her blistering heat and watched in fascination as her tiny opening stretched around his fingers.
Lack of lube wouldn't be an issue.
He intended to go deep and stay there for a while; it wasn't the thrusting that got her going so much as the pressure and rhythm.
And he knew how to play that hot tip for the biggest payoff.
Resting his other hand on her kitten-soft mound, Lucifer gently strummed her clit with the side of his thumb, deftly finding the driving bass line that would send her into screaming paroxysms like a rabid teenager at a Weird Sisters concert.
Hermione writhed, her hips searching for the summit.
Her eyes went dark and glassy, and her mouth fell open in a soft O of mindless ecstasy—one of his favorite sex faces.
Fingers buried in her bum, Lucifer curled them to stimulate the back of her cervix through the thin wall of her rectum, which set her lower lip to trembling.
"Uh!"
"Beg me to make you come," he growled.
"Mmmm! Please make me come, sir. I'm so close!"
"The Gryffindor paddle turned you on, didn't it?"
"Yes, sir!" Her eyes squeezed shut, and Hermione hissed through her teeth as her muscles all flexed in a rictus of warning.
His thumb slithered down to her pussy, covering all landmarks in its wake—clit, urethra, vaginal opening, inner labia.
Everything was swollen and pink and ready to blow.
Now if only he had an extra hand; he usually had at least two fingers in her mouth when she came occasionally three or four if he wanted to get her salivating like a mad dog.
Alas, he'd have to make do with the bare necessities.
"You may come now," Lucifer murmured. "Show me how much you love the way I touch you." He already knew the answer, but she seemed to get off on the declaration.
Too far gone to answer, Hermione grasped his forearm and pierced him with her sex claws.
How did a girl with such short nails leave him scored by scratch marks every single day?
Her back suddenly crunched into a taut arch, and Hermione cried out as her anus spasmed around his digits.
'There's my girl.'
Each throbbing contraction spilled a burst of liquid gratitude all over his sheets, and her head rolled madly against the bed as if denying how hard she was coming.
"Luciferrrr."
This was bloody spectacular.
What would he give for the chance to witness this bliss every day for the rest of his eternal life?
Hermione's thumb mirrored his, ticking back and forth over his arm as she spasmodically floated down from her high.
His skin buzzed with each sweet sweep, and he clutched at the momentary warmth coursing through his soul.
"Thank you, sir," she croaked, a sated grin spreading over her glowing face.
"That's not the end of my punishment, is it? I've been very bad this week."
"My sweet little Head Girl?" Lucifer teased. "What could you have possibly got up to?"
Hermione shrugged. "I don't know, but I definitely need more fingers up my bum to make amends."
Snorting softly, Lucifer nodded.
What had I gotten myself into?
xxxxxx
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