Hermione stood before her wardrobe, "little black dress" in hand, silver sling backs hanging off her finger, and a tiny black leather purse hanging on her elbow. All she needed now was to pick out her jewellery from the shelf inside.

As she looked at the collection of brooches, rings, earrings, and necklaces lying on the soft grey velvet shelf, a certain diamond pendant caught her eye. A flawless tear drop diamond in a silver pocket on a white gold chain, gleaming brilliantly in the bright lights of her bedroom. She grinned from ear to ear, remembering the day that he gave it to her. It had been a graduation gift, and it seemed fitting to wear it tonight.

Twenty minutes later she walked into her bathroom to do her hair and makeup, not bothering to admire herself just yet. Smoky purple eyeliner and long mascara, a hint of peach gloss, and her hair in a loose twist, she stepped back to see her full reflection in the small mirror. The dress was a backless halter, coming to form a very low V in the front, the bottom almost to her navel. The slinky silk fabric clung to her curves perfectly, and the bottom of the dress landed halfway down her thighs with a fluttering ruffle. She'd decided to be daring and went bra-less, and no knickers as well. Her legs went on for miles, accentuated by the four inch heels with ankle straps and the instant tan she had put on her body the day before.

Hermione couldn't help but feel the giddy, bubbly feeling building in her stomach. It's just dinner, she reminded herself. Just because it was only dinner didn't mean she couldn't make him wish it was more. She looked at the clock on her bedside table again, unable to wait much longer. She still had twenty minutes until he would arrive, so she sat on the couch, turned on the telly, and flicked it to 'East Enders.' Thirty seconds later, unable to follow the plot line, she changed the channel to a non-descript nature show.

Anxiously she waited, jumping at every sound, wishing he would just hurry up and get here.

A knock on the door. "Coming!" she hollered, suddenly panicking, looking around the living room to make sure that nothing was out of place; there was nothing sticking out that shouldn't be. Satisfied, she ran back to the bathroom, checking over her appearance one last time, and then ran back to the door, straightened herself and calmed her breathing, and slowly opened the door.

"Evening, Hermione," said the smooth voice of her secret love. Her breath hitched in her throat and she couldn't think of a single intelligent thing to say. She couldn't help but stare, those bright silver eyes piercing her soul, like two gemstones planted into his face, glittering across from her. She could see herself in his eyes. "Um, I guess if you're not going to invite me in than we should head out."

"Oh! Oh my goodness, I'm sorry, I was just, well... I don't know, shocked, I suppose... you look just the same..." she drifted off again, wanting to slap herself at the idiotic things she was saying. What would he think now? "Yes, yes, come in. Would you like a coffee or tea or soda perhaps? I mean, our reservations aren't for another half hour, and the restaurant is just a block's walk, so we really have got plenty of time."

He walked in the open door and sat down on the white leather couch, taking in the room. "I'll have tea, thank you. The flat is lovely, really. You've got a flair for decorating. Ha, you should come and fix mine up... it's horrendous. My sofa is like a patchwork of old jeans, a few tablecloths, face towels... you name it, they played a part in fixing my couch. And the kitchen? Oh... you don't even want to know."

When Hermione came back out a minute later with two mugs in hand, he smiled and reached for the cup in her outstretched hand. "Thank you." She smiled and nodded in response, sitting down on the couch beside him, and took a sip of her tea. "So what have you been up to for the last few months?" she asked gently.

"Oh, you know, a bit of this, a bit of that. I haven't really kept any particular job for an extended period of time. I find most of it boring, you know?" His eyes twinkled at her, slightly showing the bitter coldness he held deep down, but it was hidden by the warmth on the surface. Even if he had called her a horned snorkelblast, she simply would have smiled and blindly agreed. "What about you?"

Hermione blanched. What did she do? Wait, she was a secretary, right? Right. She worked for Harry. Harry... That could cause some problems... "Right, right, right... um, well, the same really. Sorta. Well, I'm a secretary for the ministry, for an auror, I do a bit of everything for... um, him... and, well, yeah, it's not too bad. It gets boring, but my... boss is all right, I guess." She hurriedly took a gulp of her tea, burning her tongue and the roof of her mouth, making her spit the scalding liquid all over his lap.

Draco looked down at his lap, eyebrow raised, lip twitching. When he looked back up at her, his eyes were clouded and black. They were not, however, on her face, but on her exposed breasts before him. "You know, Hermione, if you wanted me out of my trousers, there are many other ways you could have achieved that. Many of those other options would not have included my bits being burned by boiling tea." He placed his tea cup on the table, shook his head, and sighed.

"Oh, I'm sorry! I'm so, s-s-s-s-so s-sorry! It was so hot! I-i-i-it was really h-h-h-hot, and I b-b-b-burned my mouth!" she spluttered, unable to put together a real sentence. She watched as her secret love stood from the couch, glaring at everything around him, his eyes black with something much more appealing than the anger she thought they held.

"Oh, you know, Granger, you don't have to explain yourself. It really didn't hurt. Well, not that much..." he whispered, his eyes now on her face. And then he licked his bottom lip. Oh, that one little movement... she knew then that he wanted her just as much as she wanted him.

"Draco?"

"Yes?"

"What about our reservations?"

"Do you always have to ruin everything?" When she just stared at him wide-eyed, he growled, "Fuck the reservations, Granger, I like my plan much better than yours." With that, he stepped towards her and grabbed her shoulders, yanking her up roughly, so that her chest was pressed as tight to his as possible. "What do you think? Dinner, or a real good shag?" he rasped, his lips brushing hers as he spoke. When she nodded her head right away, he knew he would claim her tonight for sure.

His lips descended on hers, soft silky pink on luscious, plump red. His kisses were full of want and need; she could feel the desire flowing out of his very pores. His arms wrapped around her, holding hers tight to her sides, and his grip spoke volumes to her. He wanted her just as much, maybe even more than she he. Draco's mouth was like hot chocolate on a chilly winter evening, gooey chocolate chip cookies while studying for an exam, a hot bath full of lavender oil and purple bubbles on her day off. When she felt the tip of his tongue gently probing the edge of her lips, she let him in happily, wanting him to touch her everywhere, to know every inch of her.

Hermione had always been in control of her own life, emotions and wants, but now, she was being run by someone else and his own quest. His quest for her delectable, curvy little body. Reluctantly she gave control to the man who was holding her, letting him dominate her in ways no man had before. She was drowning in the passion of his kisses, tasting all the sweetness he had held back over all those years. Slowly her body was failing her; her knees went weak and warmth was pooling in that delicate, hidden area.

Draco's chest was heaving against her own, and Hermione was near the point of suffocation. His hands had drifted to her round little rump, and one of hers had sneakily made its way to the button of his trousers. When he felt the friction of the fabric moving on his waist, Draco pulled back, breathing heavily, eyes black and animalistic. Hermione's cheeky grin confirmed that he was, for sure, going to "get some" tonight. Now his own hands slid under the ruffling fabric of her dress, feeling nothing but bare skin. Shocking. Hermione shivered and groaned, her hands fumbling with the button, unable to concentrate with the finger massage he was administering to her arse.

"Mmm, Draco..." she murmured, feeling one of his hands working its way around to her front. But when that finger touched her clit, and another delved into her wetness, she nearly collapsed in reaction. It was like nothing she had ever felt before. Luckily he still had an arm behind her, and he quickly lowered her to the couch, placing her roughly on the smooth leather, knowing full well what he was doing.

Draco crawled over top of her, his legs around her hips and his hands holding him up above her shoulders. The beauty of her face and sensuality of her body in that dress made him pause and stare a second, but when he felt his jeans being slid down his thighs, all romanticisms left his mind and he covered her mouth with his again, tasting her mouth fully, finding every crevice and smooth surface, and exploring all that he had been denied for years. Her hands were on his hips, playing with the waistband of his boxers, but still not venturing that far forward. However, when one of his hands grabbed at the tie of her dress, slipping it open, she forgot her inhibitions and yanked the boxers down, only to look at a rather glorious prize, waiting long and hard just for her.

His hand slid the sleek fabric down, revealing her breasts, his breath catching again at his luck. They were perfect. Large and round, her nipples erect, and he just wanted to hold one in his mouth and taste its perfection. When Hermione's hand grasped his hardness in her hand, touching the tip with her thumb, her palm around its shaft, he gasped and nearly dropped himself on top of her. "Oh..." he groaned, as she started to work her magic on him again. He couldn't deny that she certainly knew what she was doing.

Well, he had been the Slytherin prince, and she had been the Gryffindor princess. Maybe their titles somehow meant the same thing? It certainly felt like they belonged, right now.

Her hand was warm and smooth, working long, soothing strokes on him. Draco held his breath, not daring to do anything that would stop her ministrations. With each rippling touch, he felt himself come closer to his climax, his breathing shallow and desperate. Her other hand touched his ball sac suddenly, fondling it like he would her breasts, and it very nearly sent him over the edge. With both hands on him now, he closed his eyes tight and clenched every muscle in his body, feeling each movement of flesh to flesh magnified immensely.

Draco leaned his head down and kissed her strongly on the mouth, the taste of her nearly gone lip gloss throwing him over the cliffside, and the orgasm took him over, his moans and spasms shaking his lover beneath him. Lying on top of Hermione's hot body, Draco let forth one final grunt as his euphoria slowly faded away, his breathing returning to normal, feeling as if he were drunk on her touch. Her breasts were rising into his chest, and the triangular thatch of downy hair was gently rubbing on his now soft member, slowly bringing him back to his previous excitement.

"We'll be seeing what else you can do later, but for now, let's get back to that marvellous little body of yours," he growled at her, now rising back onto his knees, one hand already drifting from her shoulder to her left breast. Those stiff rosy tips, that supple soft skin, those mounds that seemed to fit perfectly in the cup of his hand- he could hold them and stare at them all day long.

The gooseflesh beneath his palm pricked his skin, cold like a bare piece of chicken, hot like he was holding a miniature sun in his hand. His thumb roamed over her throbbing peaks, feeling that which demanded his full attention. Her eyes were hooded and glazed under his attention, and when he roughly pinched that hardened nipple between his fingers, a breathy moan escaping her sumptuous mouth, he felt like this was right where he was meant to be tonight. Draco lowered his mouth to its twin, kissing the smooth white skin, feeling the gentle movement pressing the swell of her breast closer to him. He raked his teeth over the hardened point, causing her to arch her back and curve her body into his. As his tongue slid out and around the engorged mound, he could taste the sweetness that was her skin, her natural oils, and the intensity of her presumed innocence.

Hermione moaned again, filling his mouth with her femininity as he began to suckle on her heaving breast. A fire was burning in her core, and though she had always known that sex was one of the most pleasurable things, she could never have dreamed how wonderful it really would be. She could feel the evidence of her immense arousal coating the insides of her thighs and dripping onto the couch below her, and she slowly slid her own hand to between her legs, prepared to relieve a little of this pressure herself.

Noticing the wandering hand, Draco glowered at it, insulted that she would even consider pleasuring herself in a moment like this, especially when he could do it even better himself. He slapped the hand away with his own free hand, and then reached between them and wrapped his fingers into the dense, curly hair. He tugged it upwards, feeling her clench her muscles at the strangely pleasurable sensation. A finger touched her swollen clit, and the heat pouring out of her made his again hardened member twitch with anticipation. He moved his mouth to her other breast, administering the same rough but loving attentions, feeling every reaction that her body betrayed to him.

That finger on her sex rubbed her clit again, pulling a loud gasp and shudder out of her, the sounds making him wish he could be sheathed deep inside of her this minute. One finger slid into her hot, slick wetness, parting the lips and entering her, sensing her heartbeat doubling at this turn. She was smooth, and so, so tight, and he slid a second finger into her, feeling the muscles tighten around his two fingers, and he started to slide them in and out, slowly. His teeth grazed her stiff pink nipple again, and paired with the fingers inside of her and his thumb attacking her clit, she let out a cry of his name, followed by a long, ferocious moan, signifying that she was close to her own first climax. She clamped her legs tight around his hand and arched her pelvis into him, begging for her release.

Another finger delved into her wet heat, pumping now furiously in and out of her, and when her rasping breath told him she would come any second, he curled his fingers just so, her walls squeezing tight around him, and felt her orgasm spiral around him.

The orgasm overtook her, shaking her to the bones, bringing her to a perfect ecstasy that nothing she had ever encountered could compare to. Her eyes rolled back into her head and she saw stars. Her body jerked in every direction, and her ears rang with a tone she hadn't heard before. Her mouth fell into a perfect O, and she closed her eyes to savour the feelings washing over her.

Draco held the moment by examining every part of her body. Her large, round eyes, and her small but full mouth; her narrow neck, and small delicate shoulders; her breasts were high, firm, and round, shimmering gold, and had perfect pink nipples; her waist was small, her hips fine and perfect to rest his hands on; her sex beautiful, and her legs long and lean, golden in the light. Her skin was free of any blemishes, and glistening with a light sheen of sweat. Her hair was a disaster, splayed around her face, but he couldn't help the desire to touch it. He did. It was soft and feathery, and curled, not wiry and tangled like he'd always thought. He brushed his thumb over her bottom lip, marvelling at her mouth puckering, and the redness it left from the gentle caress. Her eyelids fluttered open, and he was again in awe at all of the secrets that she had held from him since they were immature little eleven year olds.

"Draco," she murmured, still semi unconscious. She raised her head and brushed a fleeting kiss across his lips, making him tingle all over, and wish to live this moment for the rest of time. The hand cupped her cheek in his palm, keeping her close again, and he took over her mouth in a kiss so urgent, demanding, and full of lust and passion, that she couldn't help but feel the rightness of it all. It felt as if he might just be the one.

Draco held Hermione to him, his assault on her lips drawing him as close as their flesh allowed, but wishing he could be even closer, as if their souls could merge, and he would dominate her there as well. His tongue slid into her mouth, and she raced to greet him, feeling his arousal as much in his kisses as in his touches. His tongue touched every part of her mouth, and when he was satisfied, he took the pleasure of exploring the rest of her face with his mouth. He pulled her bottom lip into his mouth, pulling and sucking on it, tugging it, and when he gently nipped it with his teeth she yelped and shuddered beneath him.

Draco kissed the corner of Hermione's mouth, and led a trail of kisses to her cheekbone, his eyelashes leaving butterfly kisses along her skin. He placed a gentle kiss on her temple, and the warm skin there felt so silky and... erotic. He moved his mouth to her ear now, his lips pulling on her lobe, holding that little flap of tissue, and when he licked the skin behind it, a breath ran out of her.

He led his tongue down her neck, the moment nearly catching him up, his erection waiting impatiently at her entrance. He heard her sigh as he placed his mouth over a particularly tender area, sucking hard, deciding to leave his mark, on his prize. When the spot was sufficiently reddened, and sore if he would have asked her, he kissed it gently and lovingly, moving on to that special place right at the base of her neck, where she held everything keeping her partial. He placed his lips gently on the pulsing spot, and lightly scraped his top teeth across it, hearing her whimper in response.

The process seemed so much more personal when it was all done with a lover's kiss, rather than a pleasurer's hand. However, he couldn't deny the want to feel her hands all over his body. He skittered a wayward finger across her flat belly, over her navel, and toward her hip. He gripped her down now, tight, knowing that his time would be any minute now. She would be begging for him to enter her at last. His lips still focused on her neck, he turned north again, towards those lips that commanded attention, so soft and delicious.

Hermione's lips were on his before he'd even reached her, making her need and desire completely obvious, even if it hadn't been already. She slipped an arm around his neck, and the other around his back to rest on his arse, squeezing that excellent cheek. Her body was like a drug to him, her very prescence absolutely intoxicating, and before he knew what he was doing, he had slung her knee over his shoulder and thrust himself into her waiting heat. The urge to move was there, but he fought it to let her accomodate for a second, before he couldn't deny the primal urge to claim her in the most basic and instinctual way possible. He drew out, but thrust in quickly, hard and deep. She was tight, so tight, and the pressure alone made him want to cry with joy. His hips moved against hers, burying him within her velvet cavern, his body on fire. Hermione's breasts were bouncing in rhythm with his thrusts, and she quickly wrapped her other leg around his waist, trying to draw him ever closer, to mold their bodies together, to let him penetrate her as deeply as possible, to hit that spot deep within her that would send her over the edge.

There was no stopping it now. A guttural, animal sound boiled up from the bottom of Draco's chest and rumbled out of his mouth, filling the room, cursing him to remember this night for the rest of his life.

They were both so close, moaning, Hermione biting her lip to keep from screaming. The squeeking of bodies on the leather couch was drowned out by the effort Draco was pounding into his lover, but when the friction overtook the pair, all that was to be heard was the screams of each other's names. As their dual climaxes stole away the last of their strength and all semblance of human thought, they fell asleep on the sofa, into a deep, dreamless black.

OO

OO

OO

Hermione woke to feel her body heavy and weak, her knickers and legs soaked with the juices of her arousal.

She could feel nothing but the heavy cotton duvet cover on top of her and the wetness between her legs; she could hear nothing but the gentle breathing of the man beside her and the clock ticking on the opposite wall; she could see nothing but a thin crack of light coming from underneath her bedroom door.

As she turned onto her side to face this man, she caught a shock of bright red hair in fornt of her that was Ron. She sighed heavily, guilt washing over her. It had only been a dream, after all, but she couldn't deny it much longer. She thirsted for Draco Malfoy, and there was no way around it.