Chapter 3: A Veela’s Hunger

The morning sunlight bathed the cozy kitchen of Shell Cottage in a warm glow. Fleur Delacour Weasley moved gracefully between the stove and the small wooden table. The scent of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the rich aroma of sizzling eggs and buttered toast. She hummed softly under her breath, her movements fluid and elegant even in the simplicity of her routine.
Bill sat at the table, his face partially obscured by the Daily Prophet. His hair, once wild and rakish, was now neatly tied back, with faint but noticeable streaks of gray at his temples. Fleur placed a plate of food in front of him with a quiet smile.
“Merci, mon amour.” She took her seat across from him with her own plate. “Today at work, I will be finalizing some of ze rune analyses with ’Arry. It is fascinating, really. Ze complexity of ze runes…”
A muffled “Mm-hmm” came from behind the newspaper.
Fleur paused, her fork hovering mid-air. “Bill, did you ’ear me?”
“Yeah, yeah. That’s good, Fleur.” He flipped a page without glancing up.
Her smile tightened. “It is more zan good. Ze work we are doing could ’ave significant implications for ze safety of ze wizarding world.”

“Mmhmm, of course.” Bill took a bite of toast, his attention drifting.

Fleur set her fork down, her appetite gone. She studied him for a moment, her blue eyes searching his face for any sign of connection, but his focus stayed on the newspaper. The rustling pages filled the quiet between them.

He was not unkind, or deliberately inattentive. His mind was simply elsewhere, and Fleur felt the emotional gap as clearly as a built wall. No fire lit his voice or glance. Nothing to make her feel seen.

“Do you ’ave much work today?” Her voice softened.

Bill looked up, his brow wrinkling as if recalling her presence. “Yeah, the usual.” He stood and finished his coffee, then leaned in and planted a quick kiss on her cheek, a motion so automatic it lacked warmth. “Thanks for breakfast, love. See you later.”

Before she could speak, he was gone, the door clicking shut. Fleur sat alone at the table, staring at his empty plate. A knot tightened in her chest, the weight of frustration heavy on her shoulders.

She leaned back in her chair and exhaled slowly. Her thoughts drifted again, almost against her will, to Harry. She hadn’t meant to think of him so often, but his presence pulled at her in a way that Bill’s did not.

Harry made her feel alive, as if she mattered.

A smile crept onto her lips as she thought about him, her teeth grazing her bottom lip. Her cheeks flushed faintly as her mind drifted to the hiking trip he’d suggested. His words replayed in her head: “Wear something light. Preferably tight.”

Her lips parted slightly as she imagined what she might wear. Maybe fitted shorts and a snug tank top, light enough to keep her cool in the warm sun. She imagined forgoing a bra, letting her natural curves stand out, her stiff nipples teasingly poking through the thin fabric. Something that would hug her body in all the right places. Something Harry wouldn’t be able to ignore.

The thought sent a shiver down her spine, her Veela nature stirring in response to the vivid imagery. A warmth spread through her pooling deep in her belly. She squirmed slightly in her seat, biting her lip harder as the heat grew.

She brushed her hair back with a shaky hand. “Mon dieu.” The idea of spending a day in the sun with Harry, of feeling his eyes on her, was enough to make her pulse quicken.

Her thighs pressed together instinctively, the ache almost unbearable. She would need to address the problem before leaving. A Veela in the presence of such a magnetic man was trouble waiting to happen.

But for now, she simply smiled to herself, licking her lips as she stood and began clearing the table.

---

The bedroom was dim, curtains closed against the late morning sun. Fleur Delacour lay stretched across the bed, her golden hair wild on the pillows. A light sweat glistened on her skin. Her chest rose and fell fast, her breath catching with each motion. Naked and open, she spread her legs wider, fingers moving urgently between her thighs.

Her other hand clenched the sheets, twisting the fabric. A low moan rumbled in her throat. “Oh, mon dieu.” The words shook with pure hunger. Her hips rocked into her own touch, craving more, her body swaying to a primal beat.

Pictures of Harry Potter filled her head. She remembered his muscles tightening under his shirt as he leaned close, the fierce green of his eyes fixed on her. She pictured his strong hands holding her hips, the rough sound of her name in his voice.

Her lips fell open with a gasp. Her fingers pushed deeper, wetness slick on her skin. Her thumb stroked in slow circles, teasing her clit. A whimper broke from her lips, her back bowing up from the mattress.

“‘Arry.” The name slipped from her lips, soft as a prayer. Her Veela instincts flared, raw need twisting deep inside. She imagined his body against hers, the hard length of him pushing into her, stretching her until a gasp tore from her throat.
“Please…” Her voice cracked, breathless as she moved faster. Her hips rocked, thighs shaking while pleasure gathered, winding her tight.
Heat fogged her mind. Her lips shaped silent words as she twisted against the sheets. Almost there, right on the edge, her moans growing wild and loud.

Her fingers moved faster now, circling her clit with slick, eager pressure before plunging deep inside her wet pussy. She moaned, arching her hips to meet her own rhythm. Two fingers curling, searching for that sweet spot that made her gasp. Her other hand squeezed her breast, pinching her nipple until pleasure sharpened into a bright, electric sting.

Every thrust brought her closer, her body tightening, her breath coming in ragged bursts. She could feel herself swelling, throbbing around her fingers as she worked herself harder, deeper. The sounds grew wetter, more frantic. Her thighs trembled, and she bit her lip to keep from crying out too soon.

Her fingers slid into her wet pussy, moving fast and deep. She slapped her clit with her open hand, the sharp sting making her gasp. Her other hand squeezed her tit hard, pinching her nipple.

“Mmm… such a hard cock…” she moaned into the empty room, her hips bucking against her own hand.

This isn’t cheating, she told herself. She just needed to feel good. Her husband didn’t want her like this.. wild and hungry. She deserved a real fuck.

She thought of Harry, of his thick cock, and her rhythm got faster. Her breathing turned ragged.

“Yes… fuck me…” she whispered, her body tightening.

Then she pictured it clearly: Harry standing over her, forcing his cock deep into her throat. She was on her knees, completely his. That final image made her scream as she came, shaking and crying out his name.

---

She stood before the full-length mirror, her reflection glowing in the warm light. Her lips curled into a slow, self-satisfied smirk as she admired her body. One hand slid up to cup her breast, her fingers teasing the stiff peak of her nipple, while the other rested lightly on the curve of her hip.

“Still perfect.” Her voice came out low and sultry. She turned slightly, her eyes sweeping over the swell of her round ass, the way her waist tapered into those hips that drove men crazy. Her hands smoothed down her thighs, appreciating the toned lines of her legs. “Magnifique.”

But today wasn’t about her. It was about Harry.

Fleur bit her lip, the flush in her cheeks deepening as her fingers trailed down her stomach, brushing over the apex of her thighs. She let out a soft, breathy sigh, the memory of his voice echoing in her mind. Wear something light. Preferably tight.
“Oh, ’Arry.” Her voice trembled with anticipation. Her free hand moved to her hair, lifting it off her neck as she considered what to do with it. Loose waves? No. Something more deliberate. Her fingers gathered her golden locks into a high ponytail, securing it tightly.
Then the thought struck. Ponytail, so ’Arry can grip it when I’m on my knees, giving him sloppy head.
Her lips parted as her breath came in short, shallow gasps. The image was so vivid it made her thighs clench. She imagined kneeling before him, his strong hands twisting in her hair as he guided her mouth over his cock. She pictured his deep groans, his rough praise, and the way his eyes would darken as she swallowed him whole.

A sudden confusion clouded her thoughts. Why this overwhelming heat, this relentless ache? She had never experienced such intense desire before, not even in her most private moments. It swamped her, pulled her under before she could even think.

Then it surfaced; a memory of her mother’s voice, soft and serious. “When a Veela finds her destined mate, the hunger awakens. It’s a madness, a possessive fire that burns away all reason.”

Her cheeks flamed red, but she didn’t stop. Her fingers brushed over her neck, trailing down her chest as she stared at her reflection. “You are trouble.” She licked her lips.

Pushing the thought aside for now, she turned to her wardrobe and pulled out a pair of tight hiking shorts. The material clung to her hips and thighs like a second skin, leaving little to the imagination. She slipped them on slowly, savoring the way they emphasized her curves. Next came a snug white tank top, its fabric so thin that her nipples pressed visibly against it, stiff and teasing. She adjusted the straps, her fingers lingering on her shoulders as she admired herself in the mirror.
“Zis will drive ’im crazy.”

Her fingers skimmed the edge of her tank top, tempted to pull it off as her thoughts raced. She pictured pressing against him on the trail, their bodies touching, her lips parting as his hand slid to her waist, or maybe lower.

Fleur shook her head, laughing quietly. “Focus,” she whispered, though her whole body buzzed with excitement.

She grabbed her hiking boots and a light jacket, tossing a small backpack over her shoulder. Before leaving, she paused, fingers brushing her ponytail. She tilted her head, biting her lip as she studied her reflection one last time.

“Let’s see if you can resist, ’Arry.”

---

The Auror Department was quieter than usual. Harry sat at his desk, working through notes on the Gringotts case, his quill scratching softly on parchment. A firm knock at the door drew his attention.

“Come in.” He set his quill aside.

Arthur Weasley stepped inside and closed the door. Harry gestured toward the chair across from him. Arthur hesitated before sitting, his hands folded tightly in his lap.

“Harry.” Arthur’s voice was calm. “We got the papers this morning. The divorce papers.”

Harry leaned back and crossed his arms. “Okay.”

“We knew things weren’t… great between you and Ginny. But this? A divorce? We just want to know why it had to go this far.”

Harry took a breath before answering. “I didn’t decide this on a whim, Arthur. I tried. For years. It’s just not working.”

Arthur shifted slightly in his seat. “I know marriage isn’t easy. Molly and I have had our share of disagreements. It takes effort, commitment, to keep things together.”

“I know.” Harry’s voice was quiet. “I’ve put in the effort. But this isn’t a disagreement we can work through. This isn’t about commitment.”

Arthur paused, choosing his words with care. “Ginny’s devastated. She’s been crying all morning. She doesn’t understand why you’d walk away.”

“I’m not walking away from Ginny.” Harry met his eyes. “I’m walking away from a marriage that hasn’t worked in a long time. We’re stuck in a cycle that’s not healthy for either of us.”

Leaning forward, Arthur softened his tone. “She loves you. I’ve seen how much she’s cared for you over the years.”

“She loves an idea of me.” Harry shook his head. “She loves the hero, the boy from the stories she grew up hearing. But when the real me didn’t match that fantasy, she didn’t know how to handle it. She doesn’t want a partner. She wants a fairytale.”Arthur leaned back, his hands tightening on the chair’s armrests. A moment later, his voice came soft. “I suppose I always knew there was some truth to that.”

Harry stayed quiet, listening.

“Ginny put you on a pedestal for years. You were larger than life to her. The Boy Who Lived. The hero who saved us all. That image is what drew her to you. But I hoped, over time, she would see you for who you really are. Just Harry. I thought that would be enough.”

Harry chose his words with care. “I wanted it to be enough. I wanted us to build something real, but every time I tried to be with her in the present, she pulled back to the past. I can’t live like that.”

Arthur gave a slow nod. “It’s not fair to you. Or to her.”

Harry leaned forward. “I’ve spent years trying to make this work, Arthur. I’ve given her everything I could. But she’s not happy. She said it herself. I’m finished pretending we have something real when it’s clearly not enough for either of us.”
Arthur rose after a long silence and rested a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “You’ve always been part of this family, Harry. That won’t change. If this is what you’ve decided, I’ll respect it. I just… I hope Ginny can heal from this.”
“I hope so too.”
Arthur stepped back, gave a single nod, and turned away. The door shut quietly. Alone in the stillness, Harry felt the conversation’s heavy truth wrap around him.

---

The outpost by the reserve entrance mixed rustic charm with magic. A small wooden cabin, worn but strong, stood tucked among glowing plants. Their large petals shifted gently, stirred by the magic in the air.

Harry leaned against the cabin’s railing, looking calm and sure of himself. His black shirt hugged his broad chest and shoulders, and his light cargo pants suggested he was prepared for anything. Sunlight caught his messy dark hair, making his relaxed look even more appealing. With a backpack slung over one shoulder, he watched the trees, though his thoughts drifted to places far beyond.

With a soft pop, Fleur appeared a few feet away. The shimmer of magic faded like a veil, and she stood there with an easy grace that caught his eye at once. Harry turned to look, and for a second, his mind went blank.

She wore clothes fit for the heat, or maybe just for him. Her shorts hugged her hips, and her tank top showed every curve. Her long, sun-kissed legs seemed to go on forever, and her silver-blonde hair, pulled into a ponytail, made her sharp cheekbones and fine features stand out.

“Good morning, ’Arry,” she said, her French accent gentle but clear.

Harry stood a little straighter, his easy stance turning more purposeful. “Morning. You’re early.”

“I am French, not late.” Her lips curved into a sly smile as she adjusted the strap of her small hiking pack. “And you? Zis place… it suits you.”

Harry’s mouth twitched upward. He gestured around them. “Thought you’d like it. Seemed like the right place to start.”

Fleur’s eyes lingered on his shirt, the fabric clinging just enough to catch her eye. She bit her lip and glanced away the moment he noticed.

“And your outfit?” Harry’s voice held a playful edge. “Practical or for the attention?”

“Can it not be both?” Her tone stayed light, but carried a hint of challenge that made him chuckle.

“Fair enough.” His smirk lingered as he gave her one more look. “Ready to go?”

“Always.” Fleur fell into step beside him as they headed toward the trail.

The path wove through dense greenery, distant birdsong mixing with the faint hum of magic that pulsed through the reserve. Harry led the way, his pace steady and unhurried. With each step, the weight of the past few weeks began to fade.

“You picked well, ’Arry.” Her voice held just enough warmth to make him glance back at her. “Zis place… it is magnifique.”

Harry paused, letting her catch up. “I figured you’d like it. It’s a nice change from London. And the sun doesn’t hurt.”

“Zat, it does not.” Fleur fanned herself lightly. Her eyes drifted toward him and lingered. “Perhaps too warm for some, though.”

A smirk tugged at his mouth. “Managing alright?”

“I am more zen managing, Potter.” She brushed past him with an exaggerated sway of her hips.

The trail grew steeper, forcing them to navigate uneven ground. The snug fit of her shorts made Harry’s distraction worse, but he did not try to hide the way his eyes stayed on her.

“You’re going to get us both in trouble dressed like that.” Harry’s voice was quiet, but she still caught every word.

Fleur paused, looking back at him with one eyebrow raised. “I dressed this way for you, Harry. You should feel flattered.”

His smirk widened. Without slowing down, he gave her backside a smack. The sharp sound carried through the quiet woods.

She spun around, her face flushing. “Harry!”

He kept walking, his expression playful. “You’re asking for trouble. Consider that your warning.”

For a second she just stared, ready to argue, but then a real laugh escaped her. She shook her head. “You are crazy!”

They continued along the path, the unspoken energy between them hanging in the air. The forest grew quieter the deeper they went. Sunlight slipped through the thick leaves overhead, painting the ground with soft, shifting shapes. The faint hum of magic lingered, a quiet sign that this forest held secrets most people missed. Harry shifted his pack and looked over at Fleur, who moved with a light, graceful step.

“So,” Harry broke the silence. “How’s Bill doing lately?”

Fleur’s step hitched almost imperceptibly before she found her rhythm again. “He is… busy, as usual.” Her voice stayed even, guarded.

Harry lifted a brow. “Doesn’t sound like you’re thrilled.”

Fleur sighed softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. “’E is not a bad man, ’Arry. But ’e… ’ow do you say? ’E does not see me anymore. Not truly. Ze things zat matter to me, zat I try to share… ’e listens, but it is as if ’e does not ’ear.”

Harry nodded, his jaw tightening. “I know the feeling.”

She glanced at him, curious. “You mean… Ginny?”

He gave another nod, his expression hard to read. “Yeah. I filed for divorce last week.”

Fleur stopped walking and turned toward him. “You… filed ze papers?” Her voice held surprise, and maybe a touch of admiration.

Harry stopped too as he met her eyes. “Yeah. It was time. I couldn’t keep pretending everything was fine when it wasn’t. We’ve been done for a long time; I just finally made it official.”

Fleur stared at him, her blue eyes searching his face. “That is brave,” she murmured. “To take such a step. Many would not have the courage.”

Harry gave a small, humorless laugh. “Courage, huh? Maybe I just got tired of being miserable.”

Fleur moved closer, her expression softening. “No, Harry. It is not easy to let go of something you once fought so hard for. It takes strength to say, ‘Enough.’ You should not downplay that.”

Harry’s lips curved into a faint smile, though his eyes stayed serious. “Thanks, Fleur.”

She hesitated a moment, then placed a hand lightly on his arm. “And now? Do you feel free?”

Harry’s smirk widened. Without a word, he stepped closer. His hand slid around her waist, pulling her tight against him. Fleur gasped softly, her balance faltering as his other hand gripped her ass firmly.

“Free?” His lips brushed the curve of her neck. “Yeah, Fleur. I feel free.”
A shiver rippled through her at the warmth of his breath. Fleur tilted her head, ponytail swaying, baring more of her neck. The drag of his lips against her pulse threatened to buckle her knees.
“’Arry…”
He gave no verbal reply. His mouth pressed into her neck once more, firmer this time, teeth grazing lightly before he pulled back just enough to meet her eyes.

And then, without hesitating, he kissed her. The kiss was rough, demanding, all-consuming. Fleur’s surprise melted into something deeper as her hands moved to his chest, gripping his shirt.

Harry pressed her firmly against him, his hand still on her ass. The taste of her lips, her soft gasp when his tongue met hers, it was better than anything he had imagined.

Fleur matched his hunger. Her fingers slid up into his hair, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened. Her body arched, heat building between them until the rest of the world dissolved.

When they broke apart, both were breathless. Fleur’s lips looked swollen, her cheeks flushed. She stared at him, chest rising and falling quickly.

“You bad boy..” Her whisper was full of awe.

Harry grinned, his thumb brushing her hip. “You love it.”

She laughed softly, dazed. “Maybe I do.”

The climb eased as they neared the summit, the trail opening into a flat stretch of ground under the shade of tall trees. The rush of water grew louder until they stepped into a small clearing.

A breathtaking waterfall poured into a clear, shimmering lake. Sunlight danced on the surface, rippling in patterns that seemed enchanted. Cool air, sharp with the mist from the falls, wrapped around them like a dream.

Harry stopped, drinking in the view. “Worth the climb, don’t you think?”

“Magnifique.” Her blue eyes glowed with wonder. She turned, her smile warm. “You always seem to find ze perfect places, ’Arry.”

He shrugged, a smirk playing on his lips. “Just lucky.”

They moved to the water’s edge, where smooth, flat stones broke the surface. Harry dropped his pack onto one and pulled out a bar of chocolate. He broke off a square and offered it to her. “Chocolate?”

She smiled, stepping closer. “Ah, merci.” Instead of taking the chocolate from his hand, she lowered herself onto his lap.

Harry tensed for a moment, his body reacting to her warmth and the way she fit so perfectly against him. Fleur settled with casual confidence, taking the chocolate and popping it into her mouth with a pleased hum.

“I could get used to zis.” She leaned back against his chest, her tone playful.

He chuckled, his hands resting on her hips. “Comfortable, are we?”

“Very.” She twisted to look at him over her shoulder. Her breath brushed his ear as she whispered, “Merci, ‘Arry. For everything.”

Before he could speak, Fleur nipped his earlobe, her lips trailing soft kisses along his neck. The warmth of her breath sent a shiver down his spine, and his hands tightened on her hips.

“Fleur…”

She laughed softly, a melody in the air as her hands slid down his chest. “What? Am I bothering you, ’Arry?”

“You’re definitely distracting. What’s got you so clingy all of a sudden?”

Fleur’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she turned in his lap to face him fully. Her thighs straddled his, her body pressing against his in a way that made his heart pound. “I am just ’appy. Zis day… zis moment… it is ze best I ’ave felt in so long.”

Harry’s eyes softened slightly, though his grip on her stayed strong. “I’m glad.”

Her smile widened, and she leaned closer, her lips brushing his ear. “If zere is anything I can do for you, ’Arry… anything at all… just tell me.”

His fingers dug into her hips as she rocked in his lap, the heat between them burning. Her lips moved hungrily against his before she pulled back, breathless. Her flushed cheeks and parted lips made her impossible to resist.

“You’re driving me mad, ’Arry.” Her hands slipped beneath his shirt. Her nails scraped lightly over his chest, and he let out a low growl.

“You have no idea what you’re doing to me.” His green eyes burned. “You’re about to find out.”

He yanked her tank top over her head and threw it across the room. Her breasts bounced free, full and perfect, just waiting for his mouth. He couldn’t look away.

“So gorgeous.” He leaned in and captured one nipple with his lips. Fleur gasped sharply, her back arching into his touch. His tongue danced over the sensitive tip while his hands gripped her ass. He switched between sucking and lightly biting, making her tremble.

“Harry.” Her whole body shook. “Please…”

“Not yet.” His mouth moved to her other breast. He licked a slow circle before sucking hard. A deep moan escaped her. “Tell me how much you love it. Beg.”

“I love it.” Her fingers twisted in his hair, pulling him closer. “You’re driving me crazy. Don’t stop!”

Harry chuckled against her skin, the vibration making her squirm. He dragged his teeth over her nipple one last time before pulling back to look at her. “You’re not the only one losing control. But you’re gonna make me lose my mind.”

Fleur grabbed his hand and brought it to her lips. Her tongue flicked out to trace his finger before she took it into her mouth, her eyes locked with his. She sucked slowly, her cheeks hollowing as her tongue swirled. The sight sent a jolt of raw lust straight to Harry’s groin.

“Fuck. Keep doing that, and I’ll have you on your knees in seconds.”

Fleur released his finger with a soft pop, a wicked smile on her lips. “What if I want to?”

Without breaking eye contact, she slid her hand down to his belt, her fingers working the buckle open. Harry gasped as she pulled it free, her hands moving to unbutton his trousers.

She tugged the fabric down, and Harry sprang free, thick and fully hard. The sight of him made Fleur’s pulse quicken; his size and weight had her thighs pressing together, warmth pooling low in her belly.

“Mon dieu.” Her fingers closed around the base, too big for her hand to wrap all the way. She licked her lips before meeting his gaze.

Harry leaned back against the rock, knuckles white where he gripped the edge. His heavy-lidded stare followed her every move. Fleur bent lower, her mouth brushing the base of his shaft. She nuzzled into his skin, breathing in his musky scent, a shiver running through her.

Her tongue traced a wet path over his balls before taking one into her mouth. A soft moan escaped her as she sucked, cheeks hollow. The feel of him filling her mouth made her squirm with need.

She pulled back, her lips slick and swollen. Her tongue slid out again, tracing a wet line along the crease where his thigh met his groin. “So good.” Her voice trembled.

Fleur returned to his balls, pressing open-mouthed kisses to the sensitive skin. Her tongue moved in slow, teasing strokes, coating him in warmth before she took him gently into her mouth. Her moans pulsed against him.

Harry groaned. His hand tangled in her hair, gripping her ponytail. “That’s it. You’re so fucking good at that.”

Her lashes fluttered. A wave of satisfaction warmed her. She focused, her lips and tongue working his balls with eager, wet devotion. She drew each one deep into her mouth, swirling her tongue over them before letting them slip free with a soft pop.

Drool dripped down her chin, shining in the sun, but she paid it no mind. Her hand gripped the base of his cock, stroking him slow and steady, her skin slick with spit and need. Fleur gazed up, her blue eyes locking with his, full of playful surrender.

She kissed her way up his length, her lips warm and eager on every part of him. At the tip, she traced a slow circle with her tongue. Then she opened wider, taking him into her mouth, her lips stretching to fit him inch by inch.

Harry groaned, his hips lifting into her touch. Her cheeks caved as she sucked, her tongue pressing hard against him while she moved in a steady rhythm. Wet sounds echoed around them, mixing with his rough, heavy breathing.

But she remembered his balls. Her hand slid down, cupping them while her mouth kept moving. A low moan vibrated through him, and Harry’s head dropped back. His fingers twisted deeper into her ponytail.

He watched her breasts sway with every eager bob of her head, full and lovely in the sunlight. A satisfied smile spread across his face. When was the last time Ginny had done this for him? The thought dissolved in an instant; it didn’t matter. “Fucking hell..” he groaned, losing himself completely in Fleur’s warm, wet mouth.

Fleur pulled back, her lips glossy and swollen. She sank against him again, mouth warm and wet, her tongue swirling and licking, kissing him eagerly. Her hand kept stroking, fingers curling and twisting, making Harry buck under her touch.

“Fuck, Fleur.”

A low hum vibrated through him, and she shivered as heat rushed between her legs. Her thighs squeezed together, dripping wet. She whimpered, her own want growing with every noise he made, every tense pulse against her tongue.

When she pulled back, her tongue slid all the way up his length in one slow, wet glide, her mouth grazing his tip just enough to make him shudder. She held him tight, her fingers strong and sure, and her voice fell to a husky whisper. “I love this, ‘Arry. I love making you feel good.”

Fleur pushed her breasts together, cradling his cock between them. She leaned in, surrounding him with soft skin as she rocked back and forth, sliding him through the warm, slick space between. Every time he slipped free, her tongue flicked out to taste him, and her soft cries grew needier, louder.

“Ohhh.. Fleur.” His eyes burned as he stared down at her. “You’re amazing.”

She stopped for a second, nuzzling her face against him, planting soft kisses along his hard length. Her warm breath brushed his skin as she whispered something in French he couldn’t understand. But the way she said it.. left no doubt.

Harry’s hand tightened in her ponytail, tilting her face up to his. His eyes burned with need, his chest rising fast. “You ready to show me how talented you really are, Fleur?”

Fleur’s lips curled into a wicked smile. She wet them slowly with her tongue.

“Watch me, ’Arry.”

She opened her mouth and took him in without pause. This time she went deeper, pushing until he touched the back of her throat. Harry groaned, his hips rising to meet her.

Fleur braced her hands on his thighs and moved with purpose. Her lips stretched around him, cheeks hollowing as she slid down his length again and again. The room filled with wet, hungry sounds, mingling with her soft moans and his heavy breathing.

She looked up, locking eyes with him as she took him deep. Tears gathered in her eyes, but she didn’t stop. She pulled back just enough to gasp, then swirled her tongue around the tip before swallowing him down once more, faster now.

“Hell yeah, baby girl. ” The words stumbled out. “You’re so goddamn perfect like this.”

Fleur moved deeper, her throat opening to take all of him. Her nose pressed into his skin, her lips tight around his length as she held still, her throat working.

The look on her face broke the last of Harry’s control. He gripped her chin, lifting her face so he could watch. “God, look at you,” his voice rough. “So deep. You love this, don’t you?”

“Mmmmm…!”

Another hungry sound rose from her as she slid back slowly. Her lips glided up his shaft, her tongue pressing hard before she swallowed him again. Her fingers pressed into his legs, nails marking his skin as she kept going, eager and wild.

Ghak. Ghak. Ghak. “Mmmmm…” Slurp.. Ghak.. “Mmmm..”

Her own desire flared as his groans vibrated through her, feeling him pulse against her tongue. She squeezed her thighs, a soft whimper escaping while her hand slid down to press between her legs. The heat there was intense, and she rubbed herself through her clothes, the friction making her even more eager.

Harry’s hips started to rock, matching the rhythm of her mouth. Fleur didn’t hold back; she let him move, her throat opening for him as he took over. Her moans got louder, needier, the sound driving him wild.

“Fuck, Fleur.” Harry’s hand clenched in her hair. “I’m so close.”

She shut her eyes, tears wet on her face as she pushed further. Her fingers worked faster on herself, lost in the mix of his pleasure and her own.

Harry’s body tightened, his hands still tangled in her hair.

“Fuck..! Ohhh… Ohhh!”

He groaned as he came, shuddering against her. Fleur didn’t let up, taking everything he had, swallowing with eager, hungry motions.

GULP. GULP. Ghaaaak…

When he finally stilled, breath heavy, he looked down at her. Streaks of mascara ran down her cheeks, her makeup ruined. His release glistened on her chin and across her breasts, mixed with spit and the shine of her sweat. A single tear traced a path through it all.

She slowly drew back, lips swollen, eyes glowing with satisfaction. A drop lingered on her lower lip, and she licked it away slowly.

“Feel better now, ’Arry?”

Harry chuckled, his thumb brushing a wet trail on her cheek. “Better? Fleur, I’ll be replaying this for the next ten years.”

She smirked, leaning in to kiss his thigh again, but froze. Voices whispered from between the trees; footsteps crunched closer on the path. Her head tilted, ears pricked like a cat’s.

“Merde.” She flashed a wicked grin despite the sudden tension.

Harry’s eyebrow lifted, his body still humming. “Sounds like we’ve got company.”

“They’re still far away,” Fleur whispered, her eyes bright with mischief as her mouth slid lower. “One more taste.”

Harry tried to protest, but the words dissolved into a groan when she took him into her mouth again, moaning softly like she couldn’t get enough.

He swore under his breath, his head dropping back. She pressed her face against him, her lips tight and warm as she sucked.

The sound of footsteps neared. Fleur let out a soft laugh, pulling back to plant one last wet kiss. “Okay, fine.” She wiped her mouth with her hand, still breathing hard.

She snatched her tank top from the floor and pulled it on, the thin material stretching across her chest. Turning toward Harry, she tilted her hips.

“Do I look okay?”

Fleur’s tank top strained against her full breasts, the fabric thin enough to show the shape of her hard nipples. Her lips glistened, swollen from kissing, and a hot blush colored her cheeks. Her ponytail was tousled. She swayed her hips in the snug shorts, each movement slow and inviting.

She pressed her breasts together, lifting them with a sly grin, her eyes bright and wicked. Everything about her screamed sex; she was bold, dirty, and totally confident.

“Hell yeah.” Harry’s gaze burned with lust.

Other hikers couldn’t help but stare as they walked by.

Fleur noticed. She gave them a coy, angelic smile, then turned and settled onto Harry’s lap. Her palms lay flat on his chest like she owned him. Her mouth curved playfully, but her eyes held a spark of pure mischief.

One of the hikers gave Harry a jealous look before turning away.
The group continued on, talking quietly among themselves, but Harry paid them no mind. His attention stayed fixed on Fleur as she buried her face in his neck, her lips leaving feather-light kisses along his skin.
“You’re shameless.” A grin tugged at his mouth.
Her warm breath brushed his ear. “Only for you, ’Arry.”
She laughed softly and tickled his sides, making him jolt with a laugh. He caught her wrists lightly, but she pressed closer, her body flush against his. Giggling, she kissed his jaw, her hips swaying into him with a promise that sent heat rushing through his veins.