This is a not so short one-shot featuring Kingsley and Hermione. There are lemons ahead and this will be simply a one shot. I love these two together in most stories I have read featuring them. This was a plot bunny floating around and here it finally is.

Many thanks to the wonderful LadyWinterlight for being an amazing beta with this. I could not have finished this without her and appreciate all the help!

Enjoy and comments and kudos are appreciated!

If anyone had asked Kingsley Shacklebolt, years later, when he had first noticed Hermione Granger, he would have given the appropriate answer which was when she came to consult at the Ministry during her apprenticeship at Saint Mungo's. She had visited one of the offices a floor down from his office as Minister of Magic and they had ended up riding in a lift together with her boss.

In reality Kingsley had first noticed the stunning muggleborn witch when she was going into her fifth year and he truly saw her for the first time as a young woman. He had attended a party to celebrate her and the youngest Weasley boy becoming prefects at Hogwarts. The party had doubled as an impromptu Order meeting but Kingsley had not been able to focus on any Order business that night because he had been entranced. He thankfully was an auror and had the training to at least be somewhat subtle, but more than few times that night people had caught him not paying attention to conversations he was supposedly involved in. Thankfully no one had been able to see just what had distracted the normally unflappable man so.

Looking back, it had been and still was totally inappropriate for him to have noticed her when she was so young. Thanks to her use of a time-turner her third year - where Albus got some of his more barmy ideas, Kings still had no idea - she had at least been sixteen. Old enough to make her own decisions but young enough to make Kingsley feel like a complete letch.

Still, she had been like a ray of sunlight in a foggy, grey London Morning: breaking through and lighting up the room with her smiles and laughter. In her fetching and quite frankly lovely tight jeans and vintage muggle band tee shirt, she had reminded Kings so much of a young witch he had loved right out of school. He hadn't been ready to settle down at the time and had been slightly broken hearted that his little witch at the time had moved away to continue her study at the Salem Institute. Even more so when he had heard she had met a Wizard who was willing to bond and give her the family she had so wanted. Kingsley had known at the time that he could not and was not willing to do that. He had known in his bones that Riddle would be back eventually and that when he returned his life and Wizarding Britain would be no place to raise children.

Kingsley had known that he was half in love with Hermione Granger. It had truly hit him when she had, with some hesitation, hopped on the Therestal behind him despite her obvious reticence to be up in the air. She had, during their initial mounting and flight, made some of the cutest noises he had ever heard; it had been especially adorable to him that they were Hermione's voice but in the body of Harry Potter. He hadn't minded one bit as she clung to him for dear life and battled like a warrior queen shooting hexes that were just as vicious as the ones being shot at her. Her smell, even disguised as Harry, was one that he had gotten a whiff of as they had landed and recognized it as his Amortentia scent. He had searched far and wide for the mixture of lavender, old leather and ink. It was unique, it was pure and it was clearly this little witch. She had been of age then, but Kingsley had held back.

It had nearly driven him insane with worry when the Ministry fell and she had gone on the run with Harry and Ron Weasley. He had wanted to throttle the red headed prat when he had learned the weakling had left his witch and Harry all alone in the middle of Merlin-knew-where. The torture that Hermione had endured at the hands of Bellatrix had not escaped Kingsley's notice either. When he had gotten even the scantest of details of what had happened at Malfoy Manor at the hands of that lunatic, he personally went and thanked Molly again for ridding the world of that blight. He only wished he could have done it himself.

Still Kingsley kept back even after the War and the Final Battle. He had watched Hermione struggle as a 19-year old trying to grasp onto some semblance of having a normal school year at Hogwarts, one where she and her friends weren't constantly fighting for her life. He could understand her wanting to just be a student and focus on her studies. He had been distracted by his appointment as the interim Minister of Magic but he had never lost track of what his little witch was doing. He honestly didn't even know if Hermione had really ever noticed him but he still watched from afar. He had practically burst with pride when she was heralded for having the highest number of NEWTs since the founders themselves. It had come to no surprise to Kings that they were all O's; he would have expected nothing less from his Hermione.

He was slightly horrified, however, at how she had nearly worked herself to the bone to achieve that honor. It hadn't helped that while she was working hard to achieve those scores and finish her schooling in memory of what her parents would have wanted, she had been carrying her best friend and quasi-boyfriend through the testing portion of their auror training. Ron Weasley had been lucky that was no longer his department and he was no longer helping with training. Seeing how the redhead had taken advantage of Hermione had started a burning rage in Kingsley that would have made auror training all but impassable for the slovenly, dimwitted young man.

Weasley had later proved how dimwitted he was when he had been caught with his trousers around his ankles in the back of the Leaky, of all places, with some idiot witch who was clearly a "Golden Trio Groupie" as Hermione had called the harpies. While Hermione had not caught him in the act, a photographer for the Daily Prophet had and, as he had learned the muggles said, a picture was truly worth a thousand words. The Prophet had several thousand words blaring across the front page of the evening edition that night.

Hermione had handled the situation publicly with the grace of a queen. She had never given comment and hadn't publicly disgraced Ron or any of the other Weasleys - some of whom, Kingsley had never understood why, t had taken the side of their idiot brother/son. In fact, she never publicly addressed the issue again. She had put her head down and gone into her apprenticeship like nothing had happened.

Privately however, Kingsley had been immensely proud at some of the creative hexes Hermione had sent Ron's way when he had tried to explain the situation. He had to resist hexing the idiot himself one day while entering the Ministry. Kingsley was on his way to another mindless meeting, when he heard the loud, boisterous and grating voice of Ron Weasley on his way to training. Kingsley wanted to growl when he heard Ron mouthing off to Harry, who was supposedly a friend of Hermione, about what a frigid bitch she was. All the idiot ginger seemed to see Hermione for was a warm body and most of his complaints had been about how she wouldn't sleep with him. Ron acted like she had all but forced him into to sleeping with the slag. He frankly hadn't been that impressed with Harry, either, when he didn't hear the boy speak up for the woman who had saved his skin probably more times than either of the other two idiots who made up the Golden Trio could count.

Still Kingsley held back. He held out hope that at various Ministry events and functions he would be able to start actually chatting with the witch who had held his attention for years, but she frequently would show up looking stunning, stay for a socially acceptable amount of time and then sweep out occasionally gracing him with a dazzling smile. Even rarer they would share polite and basic conversation. It was initially nothing more than superficial trivialities about the weather or rebuilding efforts.

He was clinging to hope that she would one day leave an opening for him to make a move. When they had shared a lift earlier that year, the time that he would admit to most she had captured his attention, she had been set his blood on fire by simply brushing their hands by accident. He knew she had felt something as well, if her gasp was any indication. The beautiful blush that had been high on her cheeks also reassured him that he wasn't the only one that had felt that shock. He simply continued to look forward and grin. He knew her brilliant and inquisitive mind would seek him out about that spark. Kingsley Shacklebolt had never loved magic more than when that spark had been felt because that was what that feeling had to be. Pure magic.

After a few weeks, the time that Kingsley had hoped, prayed and imagined had finally arrived. He had told his secretary to let him know, no matter what meeting he was in, if Miss Granger stopped by. He had said it was under the guise of important Mungo's business. He doubted he had fooled his very sharp if slightly elderly secretary, Lyra; a witch who had fought with the Order and had been widowed during the second war. When he had said the name 'Hermione Granger' and 'let me know immediately' with his quiet, frankly subpar excuse, she had rolled her eyes, smiled like his mother when she had been alive and matchmaking, and agreed. Thankfully he had retreated into his office before Lyra caught his blush.

When Lyra's magical memo announcing Hermione had arrived and was hoping to pop in and see him, it had interrupted a inordinately boring meeting with the head of the International Gobstones Federation. He had wrapped up the meeting in a most likely offensively-quick manner and had ushered the flustered wizards and witches, who apparently had many more very important points to make about an upcoming tournament, out of his office. He had asked them to put their concerns in a memo and promised to see to them personally. If he thought it would get them out of his office faster, he would have made bloody gobstones the official sport of Wizarding England.

He had looked around his slightly cluttered office and with a flick of wand tried to freshen things up and get rid of the odd smell of the half-eaten sandwich he had for lunch earlier that day. For the first time in as long as he could remember, Kingsley Shacklebolt felt more nervous than a fourth year asking the popular girl to the upcoming Hogsmeade weekend and that was before he had even seen Hermione.

He walked out into the lobby of his office and the vision she presented stole his breath away. In a prim and fitted navy blue muggle suit with sensible but feminine high heels, Hermione was a goddess. He doubted many witches in the building could so effortlessly pull of such a chic and quite frankly sexy muggle look and still appear professional. Her normally wild mass of curls now looked sleek and was pulled into a stunning low chignon at the nape of her neck. He could still see the stunning golden highlights that seemed to fleck the maple brown hue of her mane. She was wearing only a slight amount of makeup and he was positive she had done it the muggle way as no cosmetic spell could apply such a natural and light look. He frankly didn't think she needed a speck of the stuff, but it clearly enhanced her cupid bow lips that he was dying to kiss and her expressive and stunning eyes that made his mouth feel like the Sahara Desert.

In the most jovial voice he could muster he said, "Hermione Granger! To what do I owe this delightful and unexpected pleasure! Please come in!"

Hermione flashed him a beaming smile and nodded, walking through his office doors he had thankfully left open when coming out to greet her. It wasn't intentional but he was glad he got to walk behind her and see the glory that was her perfectly heart shaped bum in the muggle pencil skirt. He suddenly had that much more of an appreciation for muggle fashion and the fact that Hermione had not given up that portion of her heritage like so many muggle born witches had before her. Kingsley had also not missed the sly and knowing smile that Lyra had flashed him. It only got bigger when he turned and said quite lowly hoping Hermione couldn't hear him, "Lyra, please clear my schedule for the rest of this afternoon. Unless it is a life or death emergency please do not interrupt this meeting until I open the doors."

When the older witch nodded and winked, Kingsley had to fight to hide his blush and hoped that Hermione wouldn't notice. As he walked into his office he saw Hermione admiring some of the pictures he had used to decorate his walls. Pictures of himself and friends he had lost during the first and second war, as well as pictures of his family and his ancestral home. He took that moment to once again admire the petite witch. She barely reached the middle of his chest with her heels on but still he knew that her small and lithe body would be the perfect fit for him. She was meant for him and now he just had to figure out how to convince her besides one little brush of the hand.

He was the blasted Minister of Magic and yet Kingsley Shacklebolt had never felt as nervous as he did quite at this moment. He closed the doors and locked them with a click. He saw a small smile quirked at Hermione's lips. Her eyebrow arched and the smile grew when she felt the silencing wards go up. It was like she got more alluring by the second, at least that was how Kingsley felt. He tried to swallow the lump in his throat and hoped he didn't sound so nervous when he finally could speak.

"So Miss Granger, what can I do for you this fine afternoon? It is not often enough that my office gets graced with such an illustrious and beautiful witch."

"Minister, Hermione please. I think after fighting a war together and riding on a therestal together we can be on a first name basis. There is also no need for all of that flattery, Sir; I am sure many wonderful witches and wizards visit you every day. I am also sure you have many stunning witches lining up to be seen out with the Minister of Magic." Hermione said in a smaller than normal voice with a smile that seemed to not reach her hypnotic eyes.

"Oh, Miss...I'm sorry, Hermione, of course we should be on a first name basis. Please call me Kingsley or Kings. I have always loved hearing you say my name. Also, Hermione, it may be flattery but that doesn't mean it isn't true. There may be some of what you call stunning witches hoping to be the next date of the Minister or even my wife, but they are not the witch who has caught my eye. There is only one witch I want and so far I have not had a chance to let her know; but until I have that chance, the other witches are just that, other witches. Nice enough to be friends but nothing more." He hoped his smile didn't come off as too cheesy or to over eager.

Hermione barely seemed to notice. It was clear to Kingsley what Ron Weasley had done to this stunning witch had truly hurt her confidence. She didn't see herself as the extraordinary witch that almost every wizard with a pulse saw? Did she really never notice the amount of heads that turned when she walked into the atrium? Kingsley was going to have to change that and it was going to start right now.

"So Hermione, what did bring you to my office today? I do love to see friendly faces in here but I would also like to assist if you are having any issues." He was trying to be extremely careful in the words that he chose. Trying to make sure that he didn't inadvertently use a word or turn of phrase that would make her think she was one of the witches who would only ever simply be a friend to him. He hoped Hermione would be so much more.

"Well I had thought I might ask you about something that happened in the lift the other day but I am still trying to decide if it actually happened...or if it was a figment of my overactive imagination. I researched what I think it was and these things do happen but I doubt it happened in this case, I want it to have happened but I can't help but doubt it… Oh dear and now I am babbling. I tend to do that if I get nervous. Just stop me if I go on to long Kings… Or maybe I should go. I hope I didn't muck up your schedule too much..." Hermione never once looked up at him as she rambled on.

If she had been looking at Kingsley she would have seen the grin on his face grow to almost blazing proportions. His eyes were shining with a new blazing light and he was glad she had investigated their spark. He knew very well what that spark had meant and he couldn't wait to show her the wonderful inferno that their spark could turn into given the right encouragement. As he crossed his office to be closer to the unaware witch, he planned to show her just how much encouragement he could provide.

He was so close to her that he could smell the delectable scent that took him back to when he truly realized what this witch was to him. The hint of lavender and old books reached his nose and his grin turned slightly predatory. He was just able to bite back the hungry growl rising in his chest. However the rustle of his robes as he moved just a hint closer to her finally alerted Hermione to his presence in her personal space.

She gasped when she saw how close he had gotten, but he wasn't going to let her shock stop him. Kingsley knew this was his chance and he wasn't going to blow it. He had always promised himself, ever since he had realized how important this witch was to him, that the first real chance he had with her he was going to jump in feet first.

"Oh, Hermione, please, you could never mess up my schedule. I asked for it to be cleared as soon as you asked for time. I have been waiting for you to come and find me, witch. Please don't leave, I promise that what you felt wasn't a figment of your imagination. I assure you, Hermione, I felt it too and I have hoped it would happen for the longest time. Probably longer than I should, to be quite frank. Still, I would do anything right now to stop you from leaving me. I don't want to scare you, Hermione; I am an intense man and you bring out the best type of intensity in me. I felt that spark and I want to turn it into a flame. I know we can turn it into a flame and I know you are the only witch who can ignite it in me." He moved even closer to Hermione and wanted so badly to wrap his arms around her and pull her into his embrace and his life.

She was looking up at him in awe and so he took the lack of her outright rejection as a chance to continue to plead his case. He chose to take the fact that she wasn't running away screaming as a positive.

"I have known for some time that the spark we felt was a possibility. I didn't want to force it on you if it was going to happen and I didn't want to ruin whatever chance you had at being a young woman. I wanted you to learn and explore for yourself, and being appointed Minister was never in my plans. It helped distract me from going to chase you down, but it never took you out of my mind and heart. In fact many of the reforms I have made so far, Hermione, have been because your voice was urging me on in the back of my head. Encouraging me to do the right and just thing, like an avenging angel. You are a shining star among the rest of the witches that throw themselves at me. No one will compare to your bravery, intelligence, wisdom and beauty. At least in my eyes. I hope that I haven't scared you out of the room and my life with all of this. I promised myself if I ever had the chance I would take it, and that is what I am seeing this as… my chance to have someone as special as you in my life and by my side." Hermione wasn't pulling away and wasn't running in terror at the sudden rush of feelings that Kingsley seemed to blurt out.

"Have I scared you away little witch?" Hermione mutely shook her head no.

"Are you open to this Hermione?" She was hesitant but after a moment shook her head yes. Still, she remained quiet.

"Can I kiss you, witch?"

In an almost inaudible voice he heard the words he had only dared to hoped to hear before this moment, "Yes Kings, I think I would like that."

He moved in and wrapped his arm around the petite witch's waist, urging her even closer to him. Her smaller body fit perfectly against him and he loved the juxtaposition of their sizes. Kingsley brushed his hand down the side of her face and she looked up at him with wide honey brown eyes, filled with a mix of questions and lust. Slowly, making sure she saw exactly what he was about to do, he leaned forward and began to taste the lips that he had dreamed of for so many years.

However soft and plump his imagination had thought Hermione's perfect cupid bow lips were going to be, the reality was so much better. She tasted like sweet cream and strawberries, his favorite dessert. She was hesitant at first in returning his kiss but within a moment she was responding with a passion that began to rival his.

He pulled back slightly to make sure she was still comfortable; Hermione rapidly wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him back into her embrace and kiss. He took the hint and began to again kiss her with passion. His tongue begged for entrance into her mouth and it was granted as soon as it touched her lips. The satisfied moan that rose out of his witch when he began to truly taste her was music to Kingsley's ears.

He had never loved muggle clothing more than he did at this very moment. The prim and proper pencil skirt made it easy for him to feel the curve of her bum and how it fit in his hand. Kingsley also was more than a little giddy that this particular muggle outfit apparently did not call for the blouse to be tucked in. When she had wrapped her arms around his neck he had quickly discovered that a small sliver of Hermione's beautifully creamy skin of her waist was exposed. He drew a callused hand over that milky swath of skin and could almost feel the steam rising from the path his hand followed. He needed to touch her more. He needed to feel more of her bare skin under his palms. He had always assumed once he had a taste she would be addicting, but he had no idea that it would be so all-encompassing.

There wasn't a sense that Hermione hadn't invaded and Kingsley frankly would not have had it any other way. They only broke their kiss when both were dizzy for air. Kingsley and Hermione blinked at each other as they regained the ability properly inhale and exhale again. Kingsley could feel his hands itching to touch the tender flesh that hid under her demure exterior that Hermione was wearing. His wanted to unwrap her like the gift she truly was and let his eyes feast on the sight that she surely was in just her knickers and bra. He wanted to spread her out on his desk and devour every drop of nectar her body would give him and then some.

Thankfully, it appeared Hermione was hungry for at least something similar. As soon as she regained some of her footing, she looked at him like the lioness she truly was and he felt slightly like a gazelle except he was not going to mind being captured by this beautiful creature at all. Then, before Kingsley could blink again, she was on him. Kissing his neck and whatever parts of him she could reach without standing on her tip toes, while at the same time frantically trying to grab and remove any part of his robes she could easily get her hands on. A bit of manly pride washed over Kings as he realized clearly he was not the only one craving skin on skin contact. He may have been waiting for years for the chance for this to happen but he couldn't be more thankful that Hermione clearly wanted it just as much as he did.

She had gotten his outer robe off with little fanfare and had untucked and torn his shirt open sending buttons flying everywhere before he could even say the word "evansco." Kingsley decided, seeing the passion that this was igniting in Hermione, that maybe the muggle way of getting undressed could be just as fun as vanishing things. He truly would be getting to unwrap his stunning present from the Gods and Fate.

He was glad however soon after he made the decision to follow her lead and remove her clothing the muggle way, he was enjoying drawing this out and exploring her bit by bit. He also couldn't help but be relieved that with her more modern muggle clothing came design changes that suited him just fine. Kingsley was thanking whoever was listening that her shirt did not feature the many tiny buttons he had seen on so many witches outfits. His hands were far too large and he was far to nervous to be fiddling with something that small and delicate. Plus her tiny and smooth hands caressing his chest and playing with his sensitive nipples were distracting him enough that if he didn't get a move on he would be the only one of the two of them nude, and that was just not going to stand.

He tugged on the zipper he found at the back of her blouse and was glad it easily slid down and free. Hermione lowered her arms slightly and let the beautiful piece of clothing float to the ground below. Kingsley was in awe of her perfect breasts encased in a beautiful and delicate lace bra; the sheer grey lace only slightly hid her already hardened rosy nipples. He leaned his head down and took one in his mouth, sucking and nipping on the lace-covered bud.

Hermione's almost wanton moan and the way she rolled her hips in appreciation was all he needed. Kingsley continued to lave and bite at her nipples, using the soft yet scratchy nature of the fabric to his advantage to heighten her pleasure. While his mouth was completely absorbed by her breasts that were even better than in his dreams, his hands were holding strong to her hips. His long fingers nearly met as he held onto her waist, keeping the moaning and writhing witch in place. He pulled back from his attention of her breasts as he felt the zipper on the side of her skirt and moved tolower it after looking to make sure he didn't see any hesitation in her face and eyes. Instead the look she gave him made him want to rip the clothing from her luscious body right then and there.

Her lips were swollen from their kisses, she was panting, her pupils were blown with lust and a few of her wild curls had escaped their prison. She was truly a vision sent from Merlin himself. When the zip on her skirt was released and the pencil skirt (which he was going to stock her closet with if she would let him) fell Kingsley couldn't help the gasped word that escaped his lips. "Circe!" he cursed in a hushed voice. Hermione moved to cover herself up, the expression on her face showed her worry that her naked form had somehow displeased him.

As gently as he could, he caught her hands to prevent any more of the ravishing form in front of him from being covered. The naughty lace boyshort knickers she wore underneath her skirt paired with the sin-in-clothing-form that was her bra immediately had him harder than stone. Paired with the fact that she stood there, nearly naked but for her undergarments and heels, she was a sight any man would have died for a chance to see and Kingsley would be glad to dispatch them if they tried to look after this moment. He knew he would never let her go, and he needed Hermione to understand that his utterance was not out of disgust but at the wonderment that a beautiful woman like her could be interested in him.

As he pulled her arms to the side, in a husky but - he hoped - gentle voice, he looked right into Hermione's eyes in attempt ease her fears. "Hermione, please never ever hide yourself from me again. You are enchanting. More than I could have ever hoped for, and I am sure more than I have ever deserved. I can hardly believe you are standing here with me like this… I intended to court you properly and hoped that if we progressed this far that it would be in either your or my home. In a bedroom, preferably with a bed. Not in my office with a couch, the floor or my desk as options. Say the word, my lionness, and we will stop; I can court you and we will get back to this place in the future. If you say nothing, though, and you don't tell me to stop, I won't. I have waited too long to see and taste you. You have haunted my dreams for years, and to have you like Aphrodite herself in front of me… well I won't be able to resist, my beautiful nymph."

Hermione nibbled her lip and searched his face and eyes as if looking for any form of deception from him. She clearly approved of what she saw, as when she moved her arms again it was to reach around her back and unclasp her bra, letting it fall to the floor. Whatever response Kingsley had been expecting, it had not been that. His jaw went slack and he swore he could almost feel the drool comically dripping out of his mouth. He watched as Hermione walked past him towards his large mahogany desk clad only in those wanton knickers and sinful heels.

She waved her hand and he watched as all the papers, books, scrolls and quills that had been cluttering his desk neatly flew themselves over to sideboard and arranged themselves in some kind of order that he was sure made sense to Hermione. He then watched as she lifted her petite body up onto his desk and put one foot up on one of the chairs that sat in front of it. If it hadn't been so damn sexy seeing her nude from the waist up, legs spread and knickers clearly wet, it would have been almost wrong to have something this wonderful waiting for him. She crooked her finger in a come hither manner and his feet miraculously started moving towards the witch even though just moments ago they had felt rooted to the ground.

In a husky voice he could hardly believe she was capable of Hermione said, "Kings, I personally can't think of a better place for our first time to take place. I am sure you have imagined me spread out over this very desk pounding into me for dear life, and I have to admit that has been something that has left my knickers wet on more than one morning."

If she was going to say anything else, he would never know because just the thought of her having naughty dreams about him was enough to make Kingsley growl and lunge forward, capturing her once again in a kiss. He was done waiting for the slow striptease to finish. He could feel as he pressed his still cloth covered erection forward that his witch was dripping wet and had soaked her knickers.

He growled the vanishing spell and watched as his pants and her knickers disappeared in a gust of wind. She shivered at the feeling of nakedness and he smirked like a dangerous predator. Then he went in for the kill. He began to kiss down her body as he lowered her back onto his now empty desk. She hadn't been wrong. Hermione and this desk had been the stars of many of his fantasies. Nearly every position and every direction possible on the solid desk had been thought of, and one of his favorites was about to happen that very moment.

He made it to the thin landing strip above her dripping wet slit and Kingsley couldn't help but inhale deeply. Her essence smelled like the juiciest nectarines, his favorite fruit, and he simply had to take a taste. Her moan was nearly simultaneous and as loud as his as he took his first taste. However good her juices had smelled to him, they had tasted a thousand times better. He had found his new favorite sweet, and he was fine with being addicted to her flavor.

He licked, sucked and swallowed every bit of juice that was flowing from her, refusing to waste a drop. She began to buck and writhe and he could feel just how tight she was on his tongue. He used one arm to pin her hips to the hard desk while using the other to help his oral ministrations in preparing her. Even one of his thick fingers was a slight stretch for the tight witch and he worried he might hurt her at first, but knew that he could and would provide her pleasure beyond her wildest dreams.

He worked a second and then third finger into Hermione's tight passage, scissoring and stretching it to accommodate his girth and size, hoping it would be enough. Her moans were becoming louder and louder and she was clearly enjoying the stretch. Kingsley could also tell, thanks to the tell-tale fluttering of her inner walls around his fingers, that she was getting close to her first orgasm. He kept his fingers in place and began moving them in a come hither motion, seeking the spongy piece of flesh hidden in her hot depths. He knew he had found it when her moans ratcheted up and became nearly feral. He continued to stroke her g-spot, working her closer and closer to the edge and then latched his mouth around her throbbing clit. His arm was not enough to hold her hips down as they launched up and Hermione came with a scream.

Kingsley licked his lips in delight as she came down from seeing stars. The pride on his face was evident and he couldn't help himself. The dazed smile that graced her alluring features would have been more than enough satisfaction for him normally, but right now he felt a need to the depths of his bones. He had to have her, and he hoped she would let him have her right now. He gave her one final hard look searching her eyes for any hint of doubt. With a lazy smile she met his eyes and gave him a small nod yes. Then in a pleasure filled rasp said, "Please, Kings. Make me yours."

He had never heard anything more beautiful than those words at that moment. He lined up his throbbing cock and pressed the bulbous mushroom head in. Her eyes sprung open in an almost comical manner and her moan was low and loud. The stretch was clearly intense for her and he had never felt anything quite as hot and tight as her quim wrapping around him. With a slow and steady pace he pushed forward, relieved that, despite Ron Weasley's bitching that she was a frigid virgin, the lack of hymen proved that idiot wrong. This amazing witch had clearly just chosen not to debase herself with that sorry excuse for a wizard. Kingsley couldn't pretend he wasn't happy about that.

Still he was clearly bigger than anything she had experienced, and so once he was fully seated in her, Kingsley paused and waited for a signal from her that she was ready for him to move. She gasped as he filled her and revelled in the delicious stretch that he was providing her. He was gritting his teeth, trying to hold on and not embarrass himself by losing it too early. Thankfully, the wait wasn't too long and Hermione finally gasped out while wrapping her still heel clad feet around his waist, "Kings, move. Please… oh Gods Kings! Move!"

With that, he was off to the races. There would be time later for slow, but in that moment Kingsley had to have her and it had to be hard and fast. He wouldn't last for anything longer. Her heat was too tight and too perfect to allow for anything more. He began a steady and brutal rhythm, snapping his hips into hers and hitting his thighs against the front of his desk. He was sure it would leave a bruise and he couldn't bring himself to care.

Hermione's wild and wanton moans let him know she had no problem with the fierce and animalistic pace he was setting. She began to meet him thrust for thrust by pushing her hips forward. She also rose up and wrapped her arms around his back, clutching at his sweaty expanse like a lifeline while moaning his name. He felt her sharp nails dig in as she approached her second peak of the afternoon and Kingsley hoped she left marks. He wanted reminders of this wonderful event for days to come. He knew that there would be more marks eventually but feeling her scratch and claw at his back for the first time was like a badge of pride for Kingsley and he loved the pain. He reached between them and tapped once on her throbbing clit. It sent her flying over the edge. She screamed "Kings! Yeeeesssss! I'm cummminggg!" He doubted that even his silencing spells had held that shriek and he hoped no one was in the lobby besides Lyra.

When she went over the edge, she brought him along with her. He groaned out her name as he came, spilling himself deep inside of her. Then he suddenly lost any and all strength and fell forward, draping his sweaty body on top of hers. He could feel her panting and her heart still pounding rapidly, coming down from her orgasm.

He was sporting a grin wider than most were accustomed to him wearing and it was purely because of the witch clinging to him. He heard a quiet,"Kings?" come from underneath him and he scrambled up.

She smiled brightly at him and said, "Thank you, you were kind of squishing me." Hermione was blushing furiously and giggled when she saw the blush also rising on his cheeks. He smiled down and kissed her forehead, her nose and then finally her lips. She sighed as if holding her breath and admitted, "Thank you, that was just what I needed I was worried this was a one time thing."

"WHAT!?" Kingsley barked. "Witch, did you not hear anything I said! This is not a one time thing! I can promise you that. You are mine now, Hermione Granger. I will not let you go without a fight and I can assure you I put up a hell of a fight."

She smiled demurely and said, "I was listening but sometimes people say things like that just to get in someone's knickers and I wouldn't have blamed you…" She trailed off and Kingsley was not having any of that.

He swept forward and wrapped the petite witch in his arms bridal style. "Well, I am not some people and I would never use you that way. No one should be used that way, but especially not a jewel like you Hermione. You are going to be my Queen, my darling, and I will clear my schedule until I can prove to you just how much I mean that…" She snuggled closer into his arms and he loved hearing her playful giggle as he held her close.

"Kings, you told me you knew why I was coming and that what I felt wasn't a figment of my imagination… If it wasn't that then what was it? I had never really heard of anyone feeling anything quite like that. It was almost like the shocks I used to get from static electricity when I was younger. It was jarring but I also liked it. What in the world was it, Kings?"

"Oh my little curious lioness. I should have known that you would not forget about that…" he chuckled in his deep baritone. "I promise that I will explain in due time but right now, I feel the need to worship you slowly and explore every inch of you that I missed."

She gasped at what he was suggesting and then smiled widely, realizing that clearly this afternoon was far from over. Blushing bright red and with a sparkling smile, Hermione kissed his neck and said, "Well I can think of more than a few places you have missed if you are really intent on every inch that you missed."

He grinned and kissed her passionately, then with a pop they were gone. He took his witch to his home, to his bedroom, to show her over and over again just how special and important she was to him. Kingsley was excited and happy at the prospect of spending every day for the rest of their lives reminding Hermione over and over again just how much he loved to feel their spark ignite.