They sank lower, the sofa cradling them like a chintz lover.
Hermione settled against him, and his arms closed around her in a woolen cocoon.
The rough fabric made her squirm.
It always left her looking as if she'd been exfoliated by an overzealous esthetician.
If she wasn't raw by the time they went to bed, she hadn't played with him properly.
Leaving his lips, she kissed her way over to his ear, where she nosed his lank hair out of her way and licked his lobe.
He grunted and grabbed her bum.
That speed bump in his trousers was growing larger by the minute.
She might try for a moving violation later, but for the time being, she intended to get where she was going the old-fashioned way.
Like 1850's old-fashioned. Those Victorians must have been pantheons of perversity. Why else would they have created such a sexy piece of outerwear?
Placing one hand on his chest, Hermione held him flat as she sat up. His breathing was already ragged; that gorgeous nose was getting quite a workout.
She smiled down at him and shifted forward so she was straddling his waist, and his expression flickered with amused confusion.
Usually she'd be tearing at his clothes by that point, desperate to get his silky skin against her abraded flesh.
But that would spoil all her plans.
Dropping her chin, she gave him a sly look and held his gaze as she scooted higher.
She put one foot on the floor and nestled her other knee in the crotch of his armpit.
His lips tugged into a wobbly smile of curiosity.
Shifting forward, she braced her hands on the arm of the sofa, bracketing either side of his head.
Her hips circled, and her wet slit mashed itself into his ribs.
Her labia pulled open, and the worn canvas of one coat button found her clit—button to button.
Slowly, she began to rock, smearing her growing lust over his coat, measuring the distance between buttons with the precision of her pussy.
A soft sound of pleasure escaped her throat and bounced against her lips.
She curled her hips forward and rode over three button bumps.
Coat frottage was even better than she had expected.
Her inner thighs were probably going to be grated like Parmesan cheese, but time had eroded the buttons to a smooth patina.
There was just enough friction to make things interesting.
Hermione sank back as if she were riding his cock, and each button licked her from entrance to nub.
Bump. Bump. Bump. Button. Button. Button.
Opening her eyes, she found Lucifer staring up at her, his gaze lit like a black bonfire.
He grazed her right nipple with one finger then traced the circumference of her areola.
Her nipple sensed his presence and hardened to a sharp point, which he pinched between forefinger and thumb as if testing her ripeness.
The resulting ache bolted through her body and settled in her clit like a jittery tremor.
She moaned and rode him faster.
Forward and back. Button button button.
His lip curled in a sexy sneer, his crooked lower teeth showing as he hissed sharply.
Hermione didn't want teeth.
She wanted tongue to accompany her button buffing.
Her right hand left the bracing strength of the sofa's arm to alight on his lips, and she followed the crease of his mouth with the tip of her index finger.
Gods, just the sight of his twitching lips got her juices flowing.
The hint of a smile played over his face.
His nostrils flared. He was loving it.
His cock would be hard as cobalt when she popped open that placket.
He pinched her other nipple hard, spurring her fevered ride from a canter to a gallop.
Hermione whimpered and ground her cunt into his coat.
She was perched on the edge of release, balancing between the delectable brush of his buttons and the burn of her wool-worn inner thighs.
Pushing her finger into his mouth, she sought out the wet heat of his tongue.
His eyes locked on hers, and he grabbed her wrist, trapping her in place.
His tongue furled around her finger, swirling and lapping the digit, sucking hard as he guided her in and out of his mouth at the most lascivious pace imaginable.
She added another finger and shuddered as he slipped between the two to lick at the sensitive webbing.
His tongue flickered in that fork like a salacious serpent smelling its surroundings.
She bucked faster, keening as the pleasure packed itself into a tight ball of frisson.
They never broke eye contact.
She knew that dark look of desire was responsible for the skip in her heart.
His penetrating stare always left her stomach twisting and her pussy throbbing.
Other people might call it glaring, but she called it foreplay.
She knew what it meant when he looked at her like that. He was going to fuck her through the floor.
Yay.
Her core tightened. She was there.
Her jaw dropped, and she moaned his name as she rode out her release atop his stiff coat, which would henceforth be known as his fuck coat.
Lucifer sucked her fingers deep into his mouth as she came, and his writhing tongue slithered along their length, almost licking her palm.
Her pussy contracted in time with each blessed button, jumping and thumping over each hump.
She panted as she floated down from her high. Her pelvis slowed to a stop, and she grinned at him with a sated sigh.
Pulling her fingers from his mouth, she leaned down and pressed her lips to his.
He growled and threaded his fingers through her hair, drawing her closer.
Sinking back, she felt the thick ridge of his erection between her legs. His hips curled up to press his concealed cock into the hollow of her spread thighs.
Hermione welcomed him in, humming in pleasure as he rocked against her.
She began to unbutton his coat with one hand.
The top two had been open since dinner.
That left ten tantalizing portals to ecstasy.
Then his sleeves. Then his shirt. Then his cuffs.
Then his trousers. She liked to save the best for last.
Her hands slid slowly down his chest, revealing a broader glimpse of white shirt with every flick of her fingers.
Snogging kept his wicked tongue occupied while she got her button fix.
She counted each one in her head.
One . . . two . . . three . . . four . . . five.
Her hand slipped inside for a pec grope.
Nice. His heart was hammering. He must have fancied fuck coat fun time as much as she did.
Six . . . seven . . . eight . . . nine . . . ten.
She pushed open his coat and ran her hands over his starched shirt.
Each mother of pearl button glinted back at her like a row of rainbows.
She held off on their opening. First she had to free his arms.
Grabbing one hand, she sat back to look at his sleeve.
Starting at his wrist, she began to unfasten the first dark row. One . . . two . . . three . . . four . . . five . . . six . . . seven . . . eight. Eight is great for pussy's sake.
Other arm.
He growled as she began again, and he rocked his hips so hard she was lifted in the air on his thrust.
Hermione squealed and grinned at him.
No way was she going to let a little anxious dick dancing derail her de-coating.
If he was so keen on patience, he could just wait.
The other arm was freed in mouthwatering increments, and Hermione reverently undid his cuffs while she had his hands where she could see them.
When she rested her palms on his chest, he groaned and grabbed her hips, grinding into her from below.
He was rock hard; she could feel him almost bursting through the puckered wool of his fly.
Knowing what was in store had her pussy gushing buckets of slippery secretions.
She leaned down and nuzzled his hooked nose, and his lips brushed hers like a breeze.
She returned the affectionate nibble as she started on his shirt.
She couldn't help fondling his bare chest as she exposed each new inch.
His nipples got a few tweaks, and she petted his sporadic chest hair to calm his growing agitation.
That didn't really work.
By the time she yanked his shirttails out of his trousers, he was huffing and growling like a bear in heat.
She latched onto his neck as she eased open his belt.
He tasted of salty skin and sexual heat.
Leaving several red love bites along his jugular, she made sure he had abundant proof their coupling—mementos of her desire.
He always wanted more.
He'd be fingering them the next day, checking on them when he had a minute to himself.
Hermione undid the top button on his fly then took a small detour to map the contours of his bulge.
He grunted impatiently and bucked into her hand.
Mr. Patience was in a hurry. The next button took some work.
His erection fought her attempts at liberation in its rush to be set free.
As soon as she got the last two buttons undone, she sat up and stared down at his crotch.
She half expected to see beams of radiant light shooting out of his open fly like the second coming.
Instead, she saw his stiff manhood springing from the parted material, tenting his boxers to fill the space she'd created.
She gripped him through the worn black cotton and squeezed his wand in greeting.
Lucifer growled and suddenly sat up, grabbing her by the shoulders and pushing her back against the rolled arm.
He ripped off his coat and shirt and left them in a heap on the floor.
Hermione smiled and spread her legs as he shifted to his knees.
He looked deranged—his hair scattered and his breathing sharp.
He kicked off his trousers and quickly jerked her hips lower so she slid across the seat.
Oh good—he was going to give her a proper cock walloping. Button lust worked both ways.
Wrapping his hand around his meaty shaft, Lucifer pumped his dick a few times as he positioned himself at her pussy.
Hermione's breathing matched his, eager excitement speeding her respiration to a quick jog.
The velvet warmth of his glans slid through her folds, spreading her lubricious lubrication over his thick sex.
She bit her lip. Was that her whimpering so loudly?
Of course it was. It always was.
His fluted head nudged her silken entrance, and he eased inside her.
The initial ingress always stole her breath—too exquisite for words. He stopped halfway and pulled back out only to plunge back in seconds later, causing her sex to emit a crass slurp.
He heard it too.
His leer of pleasure made her blush and laugh.
He did it again.
His shining dick bobbed in the open air for a moment then dove right back into her depths, pushing in as far as he could.
She gasped and clamped her hands on his shoulders.
She wanted him to stay right there and just circle her cervix until she came.
He did stay, but only for a minute.
As soon as she loosened up, he started thrusting.
His girth dragged against her slick walls, the veins and ridges teaming up with his shifting foreskin to tease her engorged opening.
Hovering above her, he kissed her overheated forehead as he slid in and out of her like a well oiled machine.
His stroke was masterful, and in minutes she was moaning his name, begging for release.
Begging for more. Begging for him to fuck the hell out of her.
xxxxxxx
Author's Note
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