Breaking the Girl (Ch. 3) (Patreon)

( Every character in this story is a legal adult over the age of 18 )

Breaking the Girl

Chapter 3

Fleur strolled into the bedroom, toweling off the last beads of water from her perfect skin. Her hair was still damp and clung to her neck in sleek, silvery strands. The towel, failing to properly cover her curvy body, was loose and barely covered the curve of her ass, and she let it fall to the carpet as soon as she saw Harry sprawled on the bed. Fleur’s body was a sight to behold. Her tits were big and bouncy, and her light pink nipples were shamelessly stiff from the chill. Her belly was flat and toned, and her hips were already rolling with a subtle, seductive rhythm as she approached the bed.

She crawled onto the mattress on all fours and meowed playfully, shaking her ass in his direction. Her legs were toned and smooth, and Harry couldn’t help but stare at the way her pussy lips peeked out between her spread thighs. They were perfectly hairless and slick even before he touched her. Fleur arched her back and dropped her shoulders, pushing her cunt and asshole up like a whore offering herself to him. Harry peeled himself from the headboard, grinning like an idiot. He ran his hand from the base of her spine down to her ass. She shivered at the touch.

“Someone is eager,” Harry said, settling himself behind her. He could smell the arousal wafting from between her legs. 

Fleur glanced over her shoulder, and her blue eyes shone wickedly. “I am always eager for you, mon amour. Maybe today, you will give me what I deserve?”

Harry was more than up for the challenge. He palmed her ass and squeezed, spreading her wide. He tugged gently on her pussy lips, loving the way they snapped back into place. He traced a finger along the crack of her ass, letting it rest on the tiny, pale hole at the center. Fleur wiggled her ass impatiently, and her thighs tensed as she tried to rub herself against his hand. She moaned when Harry pinched her lips and then dipped a finger inside, teasing her entrance just enough to make her whimper.

“Do you want it?” Harry asked, watching her closely.

“Oui,” Fleur gasped, pressing herself down onto his hand. “I want it so much, ‘Arry. Please.” Her accent thickened when she was aroused, and Harry relished every desperate syllable.

He bent forward and licked a straight line from her clit up to her asshole, savoring the taste of her against his tongue. Fleur shuddered and planted her face into the blanket, muffling a scream. Harry licked her slower and deeper, swirling the tip of his tongue around her clit before dipping it into her pussy. She was already so wet that Harry’s lips came away glistening.

He buried two fingers in her and worked her open, curling them just enough to make her hips jerk back at him. Fleur panted and clawed at the blanket as he licked her. He was now focusing on her asshole. Fleur’s eyes fluttered as he tickled her tight hole with the tip of his tongue. Harry then went back to her clit, which made her gasp. When he began sucking her lips between his teeth, she started shaking, unable to keep still under the steady assault.

“Fuck me, ‘Arry,” she pleaded. “Do not tease. I need you now.”

“Say please,” Harry said, giving her ass a little slap.

Fleur let out a choked laugh. “Please, monsieur. Fuck me. Make me yours.”

That was enough for him. He yanked down his shorts, and his cock was already hard and bobbing. He lined up and pushed the tip against her entrance, just enough to spread her lips around him. Fleur was so wet that it took almost no effort to slide in. She sucked him in all the way to the base on the first thrust. Harry grabbed her hips with both hands and pistoned into her, the slap of their skin echoing in the otherwise quiet room.

He set a punishing tempo. Each thrust pushed Fleur forward, and then he dragged her back onto his cock with a wet slurp. Fleur howled in pleasure, and the sound bubbled up from deep in her chest. Harry slapped her ass harder, and she came undone. Her body shook as she squirted onto the bedsheets. Her pussy clenched so hard around him that Harry almost lost it.

“Fuck, Fleur, you’re so tight,” he groaned, bending over so his chest pressed against her back.

She twisted her neck and caught his lips in a sloppy, upside-down kiss. Fleur slipped her tongue into his mouth and moaned when he sucked on it. “Do you like fucking your little Veela?” she asked breathlessly. 

Harry answered by pulling out and slamming back into her. He ground his hips so deep she almost came again. “ ‘arder,” Fleur begged.

Harry did as told and fucked her with quick, brutal thrusts. He reached down and tweaked her clit, and she screamed, her high-pitched voice echoing off the high ceiling. She squirted again, and the spray drenched his balls and soaked the sheets. Fleur pushed back with everything she had, milking his cock with her cunt as her nails dug into the mattress.

The room was filled with the sounds of wet flesh, ragged breathing, and Fleur’s relentless begging. Harry felt himself getting close. He pulled out just as he was about to explode, and stroked himself, aiming at the small of Fleur’s back. He came in long, hot ropes that shot across her skin, some of it dripping down her ass crack. The rest pooled in the hollow above her tailbone.

Fleur collapsed face-down, her body twitching as the orgasm rippled through her. She was content to lie there with Harry’s cum staining her back. After a moment, she giggled happily. Harry flopped onto the bed next to her, breathing hard. “I’ll never get a moment of peace when you’re around.”

Fleur rolled onto her side with cum smeared across her back. She kissed his shoulder. “Do not pretend that you don’t love it.” She purred, rolling her hips against his thigh.

They lay together for a while, and the air in the room was thick with the smell of sex. Harry eventually pulled the sheets up to cover them and nuzzled into the crook of her neck. “You know the whole house heard us,” he said.

Fleur smiled unashamedly. “Let them hear. I want them to know you are mine.” She curled her arms around his neck and pulled him close, already drifting into a contented doze.

After a short nap, Fleur roused herself and padded to the bathroom. She returned with a warm, damp towel and cleaned the cooling cum off her back. She tossed it onto the pile of dirty towels. She climbed back into bed, spooned up behind Harry, and wrapped both arms around him like he was a giant teddy bear.

Harry closed his eyes and let himself relax against her. He felt Fleur’s soft and steady breath. Her body was perfectly molded to his. It wasn’t long before he drifted off. 

He woke some time later to the sound of muffled giggling. Fleur had rolled onto her back, spread out in a lazy pose. Her naked tits were proudly displayed, and her hands were behind her head. She glanced over at him, smiling slyly.

“Are you ready for breakfast?” she asked while playing with his chest. 

Harry smiled and rolled over to kiss her. Fleur moaned into his lips. They didn’t bother getting dressed. Instead, tossing on a couple of robes. After all, it was a house where modesty really didn’t exist.

In the kitchen, Apolline was making tea, wearing only a silk slip that did nothing to hide her gorgeous, womanly curves. She was practically spilling out of the top and bottom of her slip. She shot them a knowing look as they entered, and she poured two mugs and handed them over.

“Did you two sleep well?” Apolline asked, raising an eyebrow.

Fleur grinned. “Very well, thank you.” She sipped her tea and winked at Harry.

Apolline looked him up and down before running a finger across Fleur’s shoulder. She traced the faint red marks from Harry’s grip. She chuckled and shook her head. Harry felt a strange rush of pride at that and sipped his tea in silence. He watched the two women laugh and flirt, their bodies radiating warmth and comfort. In that moment, Harry was seriously thinking of moving in and making this thing permanent. 

He didn’t have to think about it for long. Fleur leaned over, kissed his cheek, and whispered, “‘Ave you recovered yet, lover?”

He set his tea down, grinning. “Maybe.”

She gripped the waistband of his shorts and tugged him toward the hallway. Apolline laughed, but didn’t protest as they disappeared back into the bedroom, already pawing at each other and ready to start all over again.

Breaking the Girl

When Apolline and Fleur had left for town, Harry decided to go outside and spend some time with Gabby. He stepped outside and shielded his eyes from the bright sunlight. He wandered down the back path, and the garden was heavy with the scent of early spring. Morning dew glistened on the leaves of the topiaries, and the flower beds hummed with bees. He walked across the lawn and past the beds of lavender until he reached the greenhouse located on the far side of the garden.

The door stood slightly ajar, and when he knocked, it swung inward on a rusty hinge. The thick, warm air inside smelled of compost. Gabrielle was in there with her back to him as she watered a rack of squat orange gourds shaped like fists. Her long hair was tied up in a messy knot, and sweat beaded at her temples. She wore faded jeans and a t-shirt. The shirt was cropped, and her belly gleamed with a layer of sweat. Harry's eyes lingered on the swell of her hips above the waistband of her low-slung jeans. 

She turned at the sound of his footsteps and slightly jumped when she saw him. “Oh! ‘Arry. You startled me,” she said. Her accent was more pronounced than Fleur’s. A smudge of dirt streaked her cheek and the bridge of her nose, and there was a small leaf stuck in her hair.

“Sorry,” Harry said. He tried not to stare at the expanse of her exposed skin. “I wanted to see what you were up to in here.”

Gabrielle wiped her hands on her pants and shrugged. “I’m mostly doing maintenance. Maman wants everything ready for the Spring Feast.” She gestured to the rows of plants, the bins of compost, and the rack of delicate seedlings. “Do you want to ‘elp? It is not very exciting, I am afraid.”

“I’d like that,” Harry said, and her heart gave an odd flutter. “What should I do?”

Gabby appraised him with a little smile. “Can you lift ‘eavy bags?”

“Absolutely,” Harry said, puffing up his chest in fake bravado.

She led him to the back bench, where several bags of potting soil rested on the floor. The mass of roots from a nearby Devil’s Snare had crept over the bags and left muddy streaks across their labels. “Just fill those three pots,” Gabrielle said, pointing to a trio of ceramic pots near her feet. “But be careful! If you spill, Maman will notice. She notices everything. She does not understand that a green’ouse is supposed to be dirty,” Gabby snorted. 

Harry nodded and got on with the task. The work was not strenuous, but the air in the greenhouse was stifling, and sweat trickled down his spine under his shirt. Gabrielle, meanwhile, busied herself with a tangle of vines at the far end of the structure. She had to stand on her tiptoes to reach the uppermost shoots, and the stretch drew her shirt even higher up her back, exposing the dimples above her hips.

Harry tried not to watch her, but failed. He packed the soil into the pots and patted it down. There was a strange satisfaction in it. There was something about the simplicity of making things grow. Gabrielle was watching him from the corner of her eye.

He had just finished the last pot and was wiping his hands on his jeans when he heard a short, sharp cry from the back of the greenhouse. He looked up. Gabrielle was gone.

“Gabby?” he called, his voice echoing off the glass panels.

He heard a thud and a clatter, followed by another pained sound. Harry hurried past the rows of plants, ducking under a drooping branch of Flutterby Bush. At the very rear of the greenhouse, Gabrielle was twisted awkwardly with one leg pinned by the coiling tendril of a Venomous Tentacula. Harry knew the plant from Herbology lessons. Its appetite was matched only by its cruelty. The vine had lashed around Gabby’s upper thigh, just below her bottom. It was tightening with brutal strength, trying to drag her toward the open mouth at the plant’s base. Its fangs snapped in anticipation.

Gabrielle was fighting it. Her fists punched at the vine, but the more she struggled, the tighter it gripped. She was red-faced and close to tears. “ ‘elp,” she gasped, her English faltering in panic. “Please, ‘Arry …“

Harry reacted without thinking. He drew out his wand and aimed it at the plant. “Diffindo!” The Severing Charm sliced the vine above Gabby’s leg. The end dropped to the floor, still twitching, and the plant recoiled with a hiss. Harry darted forward and yanked the vine loose from her leg. He then pulled her away from the snapping jaws.

Gabrielle collapsed against him. She was shaking, and her jeans were torn where the vine had dug in. Blood seeped through the denim. Harry scooped her up, surprised at how light she was, and carried her to the front of the greenhouse. He sat her down on the edge of a potting bench.

Gabrielle was sniffling now, more from the shock of it than pain, and her body trembled beneath his hands. She pressed one hand to her thigh, wincing. Harry could see the torn fabric, and the skin beneath was already swelling and purple. Having lived through many terrifying events, Harry was easily able to keep a cool head. “Where’s the medkit?” he asked.

Gabrielle pointed with a shaky finger at a high shelf behind the table. Harry grabbed it and opened it up. Inside were vials, scissors, and gauze. “Hold still,” he told her. He knelt between her knees and examined the wound. The jeans had to come off.

“I’m going to have to get to your leg,” Harry said. “I’m sorry.”

Gabrielle nodded, biting her lip. Harry tried to be clinical as he unlaced her sneakers and eased them off. He reached for the button of her jeans and then popped it free. He pulled the zipper down. He held the waistband and looked up at her for permission. Gabrielle gave a swift, embarrassed nod.

He tugged the jeans down her hips. Underneath, she wore plain white cotton panties, the sort that seemed almost ridiculous on a girl with movie-star beauty. The skin of her thigh was bruised and red. There was a shallow slash where the sharp vine had cut into the skin. Harry dabbed at the wound with a square of gauze. 

“Does it hurt?” Harry asked with a compassionate voice.

“Only a little,” Gabrielle said. She tried to smile, but her chin quivered. “I ‘ave been attacked by it before. But not there.” Her cheeks flushed pink, and she looked away as Harry pressed the cotton to the injury.

He found a vial of Essence of Dittany in the kit and uncorked it. The smell was strong and medicinal. He poured a few drops onto the wound. Gabrielle jerked and let out a soft whimper. The Dittany hissed as it hit her skin, closing the cut and leaving a silvery line. Within seconds, the cut was completely healed over. Harry grabbed a bottle of bruise remover and slathered it over her inner thigh. Gabby shuddered as his hand caressed her delicate skin. Before long, her skin was perfect and unblemished. He couldn’t even tell that she had been injured. 

“There,” Harry said, running his hand over her soft, silky skin. “You’re as good as new.”

Gabrielle nodded. Her eyes were enormous, and her breath was shaky. Her legs were still bare, and the panties were snug against her wide hips. Harry realized that his hands were resting on her thighs, and his fingers were brushing the delicate fabric. He tried to pull back, but Gabby’s hand found his wrist and held it down. The gesture took him by surprise.

“Thank you,” she whispered, and her gaze did not waver from his.

Harry heard his pulse pounding in his ears, and he swallowed. The greenhouse suddenly felt a lot hotter than before. Gabrielle released his wrist, but her knee brushed his chest, and she didn’t pull away. Harry glanced down and saw the perfect shape of her lips under the thin cotton. There was a faint, darker stripe where her pussy pressed against the curve of the fabric. He felt his cock stiffen immediately.

Gabrielle’s breath quickened and caught in her throat. She looked down at Harry’s hands, which were still on her thighs. She then looked up to his face, her eyes searching. Sweat beaded at her hairline and rolled down her neck. Her cheeks blazed red, but she didn’t flinch from his touch. Instead, she shifted and tilted her hips forward, and her knees parted just a bit more.

The movement was intentional. She wanted him to look. He kept his hands where they were. His palms were flat against the inside of her thighs, and his fingers were curled gently around the curve of her leg. He suddenly thought that maybe she didn’t want him touching her. 

“Sorry,” Harry said. He started to move his hands away, but Gabrielle reached out, caught his wrist again, and pressed it firmly back to her skin. Not only that, but she moved his hands higher up her thighs.

“Do not be sorry,” she whispered through a massive blush. Her accent was heavy, and her breath was hot against his face. “I liked it.”

Gabby just watched him with her soft, full lips slightly parted. Her chest rose and fell as she breathed him in. She held his gaze, even as she hooked her ankles behind his back and coaxed him closer between her thighs. The cotton of her panties was so damp that they were almost see-through, and the outline of her pussy beneath was so visible it made his head spin.

Harry licked his lips, not knowing what to say. He felt completely out of his depth, but Gabby seemed absolutely certain. She let go of his wrist, but only so she could bring her hand up to his jaw. Her thumb brushed the corner of his mouth.

“I wanted you to come here,” she said, so softly he barely heard it.

Harry nodded as his mind reeled. He realized that Apolline and Fleur were both right about her. He could smell her through the heat of the greenhouse. He could smell her shampoo, and he could smell the wetness between her legs. He glanced down, and her thighs tightened around him, keeping him in place. She made it abundantly clear that she wanted more.

He leaned forward as he ran his fingertips along the outside of her leg. The heat from her skin radiated up into his hands. He pressed his mouth to her thigh, just above the line of her panties, and Gabrielle gasped. She grabbed his hair in both fists.

Harry’s cock throbbed, straining in his jeans, and he felt himself flush with excitement. He wanted to touch her everywhere, but he held back, waiting to be sure that this was what she wanted.

Gabrielle drew in a shaky breath and leaned forward, trembling as she clutched his head. “Yes,” she said, nodding once to let him know that she really wanted this. 

The tension, which had built so gradually, finally snapped. Harry’s hands slid up the backs of her thighs, and he kissed her right next to the damp crotch of her panties. Harry breathed in her womanly scent, and his cock was so hard it almost hurt. Her legs trembled against his chest, but she didn’t close them. In fact, she spread them wider, giving him more room to operate. He looked up, and their eyes met. Gabrielle stared right at him with pleading eyes, desperate for him to go further. Harry was quite happy to fulfill her wish.