Chapter 5

Hermione didn't know just how long she sat on her bed, half-naked, trying to understand what had happened, her dazed mind drowning in pleasure not exactly helping.

"Maybe I should resolve that first," she muttered shyly as she shifted in place, but before she could get a glimpse, she caught a glimpse of the mirror.

Only to realize her shorts had turned transparent with the massage oil. A full-body blush covered her as she realized she had been revealing even more than she had estimated, but it was not just shame, but also anger.

"How dare he play with me like this," she found herself murmuring, conveniently ignoring what had led to it. She stood up, her earlier attempt forgotten as she reached for her wand, ready to vanish the oil. It was not as good as a shower, but it still worked in an emergency.

But, the way the light hit her breasts, adding a beautiful glint stopped her halfway. "I'm not going to let her get away with it," she murmured with a sudden impulse. She hated losing, especially in such a decisive way.

She wanted revenge, enough to conveniently ignore the voice in the back of her head, asking whether it was the smartest action she could take. Instead, she focused on shrugging off her sticky shorts, and removing her underwear drenched with oil and her own juices.

She looked at the mirror, her oiled body glistening. She spent a moment spreading the oil more evenly, perfectly covering her breasts and her stomach. Only then she started digging through her wardrobe once more, trying to find something interesting.

It didn't work as well as she had been hoping, as her wardrobe, with the exception of her little box, was rather bare. Oh, she still had some interesting items that she could wear, but they were like the tank top she had worn, looking sexy only because they were small.

And he had already seen that. She needed something more impressive to truly shock him.

Unless she really wanted to pull all the stops, she decided as she noticed a mini skirt, one she had bought at the insistence of her cousin, never to wear. But after the massage, she needed something truly impressive, and even that was not enough.

In the end, she decided to dig into her little box, and pulled out a red set, though their striking brightness was not as important as their transparent nature. She quickly put it on, followed by the skirt, but no matter how much she dug through, she failed to find anything appropriate.

And, she was not as good as household spells to fix herself one, especially not as quickly. She wanted to ambush him before he could handle his arousal — which he was no doubt in the process of. She wanted to annoy him as much as he annoyed her.

"Yes, annoy is the correct word," she murmured, trying to convince herself that she didn't mean anything else.

The skirt looked good, hugging her hips yet revealing most of her glistening legs, but even after several tries, she was yet to find anything useful to her top.

Then, it hit her. Why did she need one, when he had already seen her. Her red, transparent bra was more than enough for the task she had been hoping for. With that, she walked forward, with the full intention of ambushing him into his room even if his door was closed.

Only to freeze when she saw him in the living room, laying on the couch with only his boxers, a soft smile on his face that told he was aware of exactly what she was playing. Yet, it was his insistence on just looking at her face that annoyed her, enough that she started walking forward recklessly, the dance of her skirt enhancing her already scandalous outfit even further.

"Is there anything I can help you with, friend," he said, his smirk particularly infuriating with her core still throbbing with unmet arousal.

"Nothing," Hermione said as she chose to sit a seat directly across him, crossing her legs slowly enough to give an extended glimpse, though the results gave her hope. He kept his gaze on her face, but she could see that he was affected by her show.

The growing bulge in his midsection didn't lie.

The sexual tension was unmistakable, which was, technically, enough to confirm her victory. She could just return after that, confident that she took her revenge.

But, remembering her helpless state in her bed, right at the edge of arousal, she decided to take a different action. "Harry, do you mind leaving the couch for me, I need to lay down a bit after that massage," she asked as she stood up.

Harry didn't answer until she reached next to him, and leaned down in a way that left inches between their bodies, giving an excellent view of her cleavage. "Sure," he said, but rather than standing up, he moved back.

She froze for a moment, not expecting that. "Are you sure?" she asked.

"Why not, it's big enough for both of us," he answered, his smirk widening during the small pause. "Of course, unless you don't think you can handle it."

Hermione froze, not expecting him to retaliate like that, but maybe that was a mistake after what he had done during the massage. Yet, committed to her task, she found herself lying next to him, her back pressing against his chest.

His stupidly muscular chest.

It took all she had to ignore the warmth of his body against her, but it was nothing compared to when his hands wrapped around her waist, and pulled her closer. "We don't want you falling down," he excused, but there was no doubt about his aim, burying his shaft between her cheeks.

She was annoyed, yet excited at the same time. After all, she had been dressed in a way that would even shock Lavender for the exact purpose of taking revenge. "Thanks, but you don't mind if I distract you by shuffling, it's hard to get comfortable."

"Be my guest," he said, and Hermione started moving her hips. Slowly at first, testing his reaction, but the more his silence lasted, the faster her movements got. If the hardness she was feeling against her hips was any indicator, she was succeeding. That made her move even faster, realizing that victory was in sight.

What that victory meant, she was ignoring with all her might.

However, before she could attain success, she realized that he had no intention of letting her do what she wanted. His hands started dancing on her stomach, each caress sending shivers across her body. At first, he stayed safe, but the faster her hips get, the higher his hands climbed, soon reaching high enough to caress the underside of her breasts.

Her bra was still in place, but she realized that the transparent fabric wasn't any better at blocking touch than it was blocking light. Yet, she said nothing, as what he had been doing wasn't any exaggerated than what she was doing.

It was just a competition…

/\\/\\/\

Harry had to admit, when he started goading her, hoping to trigger her anger and competitiveness, he didn't expect the results to be this spectacular. He had assumed that the massage event had already pushed her to the limit, at least to a reasonable degree.

Her suddenly bursting out wearing that ensemble was shocking, though not as shocking as the following chain, ending up with her lying against him, doing her best to make her cum with the reckless dance of her hips.

Or the fact that she just accepted the presence of his hands even as they danced on her nipples, squeezing and caressing to earn great moans.

It turned out that she had sensitive breasts, which turned devastating as it was combined with her earlier arousal and helped by the reckless movement of her hips. He turned his gaze down, catching a view of her breasts as well as her bare shoulders. He was tempted to steal a kiss there, but he held back, afraid that the sudden intimacy would remind her that it was not just a game.

So, he started squeezing her breasts even harder to deal with the desire, and she responded with amazing moans, moving up and down with a renewed passion. He pulled her even closer, hooking one leg around to pull her hips even tighter, her moans getting louder.

He was tempted to ask her what she wanted, but he held back for the exact same reason, afraid of breaking the spell. Instead, he stayed limited, waiting for her to finish. He was about to win, when she decided to cheat.

Distracted by her ensemble, he barely paid attention to the fact that she had dropped her wand until she suddenly grabbed and cast a spell.

And, his boxers vanished.

"Cheater," he declared, though he didn't have the slightest hint of anger as the biggest problem between him and the pleasure disappeared, leaving his shaft tightly snug between her oil-covered cheeks, her deficient panties might as well not exist in terms of sensations it created.

Hermione didn't answer, but the smug smile she had as she raised her head to catch his gaze was simply beautiful. It took everything he had not to lean down and capture her lips, before moving to her neck and her bare shoulder. Though, with her hips picking up even more speed, he didn't have much to feel distracted, her oil-covered and effectively naked ass doing its work perfectly.

He exploded. A sudden shock went through her face, realizing what she had been doing for her 'victory', but she wouldn't be the obsessive witch he knew if she couldn't push that realization in an instant as she smiled.

"I win," she said.

Harry smiled back, one that was particularly naughty considering what he had done — especially since, justifiably, he was feeling like the winner — even as he grabbed her shoulder and pushed her down. "Yes, you did, and it's time for your reward…"