Author's Note: PLEASE NOTE THAT THIS STORY IS RATED "M" FOR A REASON. Very detailed depictions of adult content, I take no responsibility for any reader being offended by such material. I also do not own any of the characters in this story.
The Scene: REGENCY ERA MUGGLE AU. In this story, all of our favorite characters are peers of the realm, members of the upper echelon in England. Think Pride and Prejudice. Some Muggle characters from the books mix with people we know to be wizards and witches. Conveniently, in this story, there is no issue with Blood Status or house rivalries. Hermione and her family blend seamlessly with the Malfoy guests. Thank you to the guest reviewer for suggesting a little background.
Please review if you like it, positive reviews encourage me to write that much faster! Enjoy!
MIDWINTER'S BALL
The study is blessedly empty. Thank heavens. I pull the solid oak door shut behind me, closing it silently. For a minute, I just rest against it in the dark, closing my eyes and willing my heart rate to slow down. With a frustrated sigh, I open my eyes and scan the spacious room for a decanter- I am met with impossibly high walls filled top to bottom with leather bound tomes and objets d'art. The only light comes from the window, letting in a soft warm glow from the lampposts on the grounds. I am not sure why I've chosen this place as refuge.
Were I in a more calm state of mind, I would have sought any other space in the grand, sprawling mansion to hide. Another room, with less meaning. However, at this moment I simply appreciate the space for being a haven away from the raucous ball going on several floors beneath me. The ball. What an evening it has been, and it is barely 9 o' clock, I think wryly.
I push myself off of the door with a groan, and wander towards the centerpiece of the room, Lord Malfoy's undoubtedly priceless French desk. The room is impossibly luxurious, but the memories the space keeps make me dizzy with recollection. There is certainly no shortage of estates and villas in the peerage, so why the Annual Midwinter's Ball has to be hosted year after year at the Malfoy Manor, home to the most infamous Lord of the realm, is a reason yet unbeknownst to me.
"Surely there are libations here somewhere…" I whisper to myself, sweeping around the desk in a swish of organza, in search of a drink to take my mind off of the evening's events. Soothing my frantic nerves calls for something stronger than the light champagne I had been served by the scores of elegant waiters in the ballroom below. A brief glance in a lower cabinet, and I am rewarded- a handsome crystal decanter twinkles at me as I grasp it with my satin gloves and haul it unceremoniously onto the desk, taking no great care not to leave a mark.
I stare suspiciously at the bottle for a moment, glowering at the innocent glass as though it had personally wronged me. The crystal twinkles back bits of my reflection and I scowl.
"What's mine is yours," I mutter mutinously, pouring a generous helping into a matching crystal tumbler and taking a large sip. I cough a bit as the whiskey immediately warms my bones.
I gather up my considerable pale blue skirts and perch myself upon the windowsill behind the desk, tucking myself away behind the heavy emerald curtains. The large window overlooks the impressive driveway at the entry of the manor, and through the flurry of snow, I can see finely dressed footmen rushing to welcome one fine carriage after the next, lit by the warmth of the gas lamps. Sipping lightly on my ill-gotten beverage, my thoughts turn to the trying events of not one hour ago...
The waltz ends with a triumphant flourish of the violins, and the dance floor erupts into cheerful applause. My partner bows low before me, before raising his head with a toss of his shockingly red hair. He smiles rakishly at me.
"An unparalleled honor, Miss Granger. May I beg the pleasure of another coveted slot on your dance card later this evening?" he asks in a jovial tone.
"Fred Weasley, you shall cause a scene! Your mother has been pushing you all night to dance just once with Miss Patil, and if you would but humor her, I am certain she would leave you be." I warn, raising an eyebrow at my old friend as we walk out of the crowd towards the refreshments.
"I do not believe Miss Patil has a care to dance with me after our last meeting on the dance floor." He raises an arm to rub the back of his neck self-consciously, but keeps his boyish grin.
"Perhaps because you and George personally depleted the entire rum punch supply and then proceeded to have the most ridiculous dancing contest ever conducted in a ballroom? Poor Parvati was lead around as if she was a goose! And that's nothing to say of George's partner, who had to be given a cold compress for fear of fainting." I try to reproach, failing to keep the amusement out of my voice.
"Well, Miss Brown has always had a predilection for the vapors on any occasion," Mr. Weasley protests, "and it is of no matter regardless – mother can no more command my dances than she can tell George and I apart! I believe I shall go ask Miss Johnson if she has a space on her dance card for me." He replies mischievously, smoothly snatching two champagne glasses from a nearby waiter's tray.
"You are incorrigible!" I laugh as he saunters off, waggling his eyebrows at me dramatically.
With that, I am left alone by the refreshments table to survey the scene. Accepting a glass of champagne with a smile to the waiter, I watch as the musicians strike up again and another dance begins. I scan the crowd for the host of the event, but am not rewarded.
The Midwinter's Ball is one of the favorites of the upper echelon, adding the celebration of the Winter Solstice to the already joyful cheer of the Christmas season. Elegantly dressed gentlemen in perfectly tailored suits and tails twirl around impossibly lovely women in a flurry of taffeta and silk, all in shades of blue to celebrate the Solstice. The Malfoy staff has outdone itself once again, I admit to myself – the ballroom has been utterly transformed into a silver and blue winter wonderland. Crystal chandeliers cascade across the ballroom, dripping in icy baubles above the whirling crowd.
From my vantage point, I can see my parents in perfect step with the rest of the dancers. Oddly, their countenances appear rather serious despite the cheerful waltz, and they seem to be discussing something. I raise my hand to wave at them, and my father catches my eye, smiling quickly and then returning to their dancing and conversation.
I suppose mother may be admonishing father for the luxuriousness of my new dress gifted to me for this occasion- as I am their only child, father loves to indulge in spoiling me with whatever my heart fancies, and the decadent garment must have cost quite a sum. The gown is truly enchanting, but father normally spoils me with my favorite fiction books and journals to write my own stories in, which are typically less dear to the family checkbook.
I smooth the expensive dress with a sweep of my gloved hand, hoping I haven't somehow wrinkled it in my vigorous dancing with the jubilant Mr. Weasley. I shall have to kindly suggest to father that though costly gowns are lovely, I would rather have new journals as Christmas presents to write my stories in.
I absently look for my parents again in the crowd, but the crush of guests makes it impossible. I turn to give my now empty champagne glass to an obliging waiter, and find myself face-to-face with someone entirely unexpected.
My heart skips a beat. His height and icy blonde hair is unmistakable. Lord Draco Malfoy, the sole heir to the Malfoy fortune, looms before me, staring at me with an unreadable expression. It is immediately clear that he has been standing there for quite some time.
"Lord Malfoy! I had not expected to see you this evening." I manage, grasping for my fan to chase away the flush that I know has colored my cheeks.
"My apologies, Miss Granger. I had not intended to frighten you." he responds smoothly, unsmiling. He is the picture of taste, dressed in a smart black suit, matching evening cape tossed over one shoulder.
"You did not frighten me, I was merely surprised," I shoot back, "I do not believe we have met since last year's Midwinter's Ball."
"That is true. We danced together that evening, if you recall." He replies lightly. My memory snaps back to a night as chilly as this one; a night that had not ended well.
I ignore the recollection and continue. "The news shared amongst the set was that you were on the continent overseeing the restoration of the Malfoy castle in Montpellier, am I mistaken?" I ask in an airy voice, bringing a hand to push away a stray curl out of my face.
"You are correct, Miss Granger. However, after nearly a year's work, the task has been completed, and my father has summoned me home. Regrettably, this English winter chill does cause one to long for the warmth of Southern France, no?" He queries, handing me another champagne and raising a glass of his own in a mock toast.
"Yes, I have heard it is lovely." I remark blithely, taking a generous sip.
"You have not had the pleasure, I take it?" He raises his eyebrows in question, highlighting the strong lines of his face. Like father, like son, I muse to myself.
I clear my throat and look away from him, focusing on Fred Weasley as he leads Miss Johnson about the floor. I try not to think about the last time I saw the man before me. I can feel my face burn, and my new dress suddenly feels too warm - I can blame it on the champagne, I hope. I attempt a nonchalant tone.
"By the time I was old enough to travel, my parents thought the country to be too dangerous with the repercussions of the war." I explain, pulling my gaze from my old friend and his partner to meet Draco's eyes.
"I assure you, things have quite changed. Montpellier and the rest of France are utterly thriving. You shall have to see it for yourself someday," He continues, regarding me with a curious expression. His gaze leaves my skin burning, and I shift uncomfortably. He seems to think something over, then sets down his glass and asks,
"Would you do me the honor?" He gestures to the dance floor.
I blink at him. "I beg your pardon?"
"A dance, if you will join me?" He replies, extending a black gloved hand towards me. A piece of icy blonde hair falls into his eyes as he bows slightly to me, which only serves to make him even more dashing. Damn him.
I meet his grey eyes with hesitation, wondering if I should be doing this. But there is no turning back now- I breathe out and slowly accept his hand. He answers me with a smirk, taking my champagne glass to hand to a waiter, and leads me to the dance floor. The crowd parts and we find ourselves in the center as the music strikes up again. The other dancers begin moving about the floor with all the grace that the upper class has to offer, a whirlwind in shades of blue.
Draco takes my waist in hand, and we join in the dance. He leads effortlessly, and begins moving us about the space in an elegant waltz.
"Quite a turnout, wouldn't you say? Father has truly put our staff to the test this year." my partner remarks, and my stomach flips at his innocuous words. I silently hope that he doesn't notice.
"Indeed, I daresay it is a triumph," I respond distractedly, trying to collect my thoughts while his touch is burning me through my gloves.
"And how does your writing career fare? Your father tells me that you are to be published in the Edinburgh Review next month. An impressive accomplishment, I daresay. " Draco remarks.
"You surprise me, Lord Malfoy- I hadn't expected you to keep an interest in such matters."
"Matters concerning critically acclaimed publications?"
"Matters concerning myself, to be quite honest."
"Well, Miss Granger, I must confess...you have occupied my thoughts in more ways than your accomplishments."
Suddenly, he twirls me back into his arms, murmuring low enough for my ears only.
"Do you think I've forgotten about that night?"
My heart stops in my chest. His grey eyes seem to see right through me. He smirks, and then continues dancing if he has just commented on something as mundane as the number of couples in the room, or the quality of the musicians. For a moment, I wonder if he knows everything. I shake the thought out of my mind.
I grasp at my words, trying to gather a composed response.
"Lord Malfoy-"
"In light of our last meeting, I believe given names are more appropriate now." He chuckles darkly, holding me close to his lean form and holding my gaze. His eyes are as bright as I remember in my dreams. But it isn't only his eyes I dream of.
"I'm sure I don't recall, Lord Malfoy." I hiss, attempting to pull my hands away from his.
He grips me firmly, almost to the point of pain. Leaning closer to me, he whispers harshly in my ear, voice velvet with meaning.
"You remember. I know you do. It does you no favors to pretend, when I have seen you come undone."
"We can't be discussing this here, people will see-" I gasp, though his words send a thrill through me I can't deny.
"I have thought of little else- what I had thought would be merely a chance encounter has haunted my thoughts for months on end." He continues in a tone hoarse with exasperation.
He doesn't look at me now, eyes focused on the other dancers. The handsome lines of his face are drawn together in concentration. A memory of my hand trailing along his sharp jawline flashes before my eyes, and I have to bite my lip to ground myself. He turns his focus back to me, using a gloved hand to tilt my face up towards him.
"Now that I have returned, I will not be denied any longer."
I look up at him in confusion, heart racing.
"We decided it would only be the one time." One time that has tormented my dreams, bringing me to wake in twisted sheets, and not only because of the man before me.
"You decided that, and being the fool that I was, I did not press the matter- a mistake I have regretted for many nights since. But it is of no consequence now. I will have what is rightfully mine." He continues, gaze lingering on my flushed decolletage before meeting my eyes.
"What do you mean to say?" I whisper, half terrified and half thrilled. He looks down at me from his impressive height, a smirk pulled across his strong features.
"The announcement will be made tonight. Your parents and my father have entered an agreement…" He spins me gracefully, and I see my parents standing at the edge of the dance floor. Their faces show that they know what my partner is about to say. They seem anxious, waiting for my reaction.
I forget to breathe.
"You are to become the next Lady Malfoy."
He turns me once again, as my mind tries to process what he has just said. As I turn, I see the dazzling crowd, the sparkling chandeliers, and then… I find those eyes that burn so brightly in my every dream.
There at last, across the ballroom, is the host of the event, Draco's father… the reason for my sleepless nights. Lord Lucius Malfoy, the most commanding presence in the entire hall, holds my gaze and raises a glass in a silent toast.
The room suddenly feels too small, too hot. The crowd revolves around me in a dizzying whirl of blue and silver- I feel frozen, unable to focus on anything but those steady grey eyes. All sound around me seems to fade. My world shrinks down to the elegant man in the distance and the way he looks at me. Vaguely, I realize someone is calling my name.
"Hermione?" My partner repeats, pulling me out of my reverie.
I have to get away.
I rip my hands from his, and rush across the dance floor, weaving in and out between the dancers and nearly knocking several couples over. Bumping into Fred and George Weasley next to the refreshments, I gasp out a quick apology at their surprise but keep running. My feet lead me out of the shimmering ballroom and into the main entry hall of the Manor. The room is dark, save the silver candelabras lining the imposing grand staircase.
For a moment I pause, gasping for breath, wondering what on earth I am supposed to do next. Then I hear the concerned voices of my parents and several Weasleys from the ballroom, searching for me. I can't face them yet. Scarcely knowing where I am headed, I rush up the sweeping left stair, away from the noise and light and confusion of the ball, my new dress trailing behind me in a train of stardust blue...
Alone in the dark quiet of the study, I watch the snowflakes fall peacefully outside, trying to gather my rampant thoughts. Yet I am met only with a bevy of desperate questions. Why did Lucius arrange for Draco to enter such an agreement? What was he trying to achieve by pairing me with his son? How can he expect me to pretend that night hadn't happened? And how much does Draco know, beyond what he and I had done together?
I lean my head against the window pane, hoping the cool glass will do something to calm my nerves. A loose coffee colored curl tumbles out from my updo- I bat at it in annoyance and let out a frustrated sigh. The more I think about this agreement, the more I realize that this can only end in ruin. It was a risk, an unnecessary risk, a year ago in this very place. I hadn't known then what I was getting myself into, and now I suppose I am paying the price. If only Draco and I hadn't stumbled into this exact room, if we had gone anywhere but here...but it had happened. And now I am tied to a secret wrapped within a secret, with no way out.
I roll the crystal tumblr in my hand and take another large swig of whiskey.
"I thought I might find you here."
A smooth male voice jolts me out of my thoughts, and I sputter ungracefully on the liquor, whirling around to angrily push back the curtain obscuring my vision.
"Draco, I do not need-"
But it isn't Draco. Lord Lucius Malfoy stands before me in front of his desk, nonchalantly pouring himself a glass of whiskey as if it was commonplace to find a woman tucked up on his windowsill with a tumbler full of pilfered spirits. He looks just like he does in my dreams, long hair draped artfully past his shoulders, his expensive grey suit matching those captivating eyes perfectly. He is the personification of elegance.
"I am not Draco." He says needlessly, with a rare touch of humor in his voice. I haven't been this close to him since the last time I was in this room, in someone else's arms. He studies me thoughtfully, arching one aristocratic eyebrow, echoing the way Draco looked at me mere minutes before.
"I - I hadn't expected to see you here." I stammer, rushing to stand up from my hiding spot. I know the blush on my face betrays my attempt at a calm tone.
"No indeed, this is now the second time that you have come into my personal study without the expectation of finding me in my own space. What an impertinent little madam you are." He drawls, smirking.
His words send a delicious shiver through me, and I take an involuntary step backwards. What am I doing here, alone in the dark with the father of my betrothed? Why does simply standing this close to him thrill me beyond anything else?
He spots the glass in my hand and smirks at me.
"And helping yourself to the Malfoy liquor collection already? Well, you will bear the name soon enough."
Anger spikes through me at his words; his blasé manner.
"What do you mean to achieve, arranging a marriage between Draco and I? Do you wish to torment me? To punish me?" I accuse, slamming my drink down on the desk hard enough that it spills out the sides onto the sleek wooden finish. I can feel the beginning of hot tears prick at my eyes and I focus everything in me to keep them at bay.
The smirk drops from his face in an instant.
"Never." He breathes, holding my gaze searchingly.
The room is silent, save the drops of whiskey dripping from my spilled drink to the hardwood floor.
"Then why?" My voice is a hoarse whisper, pleading to understand.
Lucius closes his eyes, and draws in a quietly shuddering breath. I see his hands curl into fists, white with tension.
"The night I saw you… I have not known peace since." He murmurs, then barks out a mirthless laugh.
"You must understand that I cannot, I will not, let you escape me. But there are lines; boundaries, which cannot be crossed without sending your reputation to ruin." He speaks in a controlled voice, eyes focused on the amber liquid dripping off the desk, but somehow seeing far away.
"You think you are… unsuitable for me?" I breathe, trying to understand his meaning.
"I know that I am unsuitable. I am far too old for you, and a widower at that. You have had no appropriate opportunity or reason to have engaged with me socially beyond a polite acquaintance - if I were to suddenly vie for your hand, it would be to only to your scorn and derision. Many would rush to very harsh conclusions as to how we had become more... familiar. I know that you have certain goals and hopes for accomplishment with your writing career, and I cannot allow you to risk any discredit to your name." He continues, looking at me with those eyes that haunt my dreams.
He steps toward me.
"But I cannot forget that night."
Draco's strong hands run up and down the sides of my bodice as he presses into me in a searing kiss that sends my heart hammering in my chest. I am captivated by how his touch sends me reeling; the feel of his tall form pinning me against the wall in the darkness of the corridor. He begins trailing a burning path of kisses down my jaw to my neck, and I let out a sigh of desire. Distantly, I can hear music and laughter floating up from the ballroom below, but all I can think about is the way Draco's lips feel on my throat.
"What have you done to me, Miss Granger…" He breathes between fevered kisses, gripping onto my waist.
A tipsy laugh escapes me.
"I believe this is your fault, Lord Malfoy-" my breath hitches as he nips sinfully at my ear, "-with your charming little drinking game."
"Hmm, I'm not entirely to blame. Betting on who could still dance after that much champagne was your suggestion." he quips, chuckling darkly when I gasp at his ministrations.
"Am I to be blamed for taking advantage of the one year my parents are away on travel for the ball by engaging in the slightest amount of mischief?" I manage in shallow breaths, as he bites delicately on the base of my neck.
"True enough, your substitute chaperones hardly helped keep you out of it." He looks up at me with a smirk, platinum hair falling in front of his eyes in a rakish fashion.
"Well, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley have too much on their hands with Fred and George to be concerned about their usually well behaved god-daughter." I laugh.
"I shall have to thank them for their inattention."
Draco begins kissing down to the neckline of my silver dress, and my mind goes hazy with blissful desire. I bring one hand to rake through his moonlight colored hair, and another to trail down his chest to the front of his trousers. His entire body stiffens and he lets out a shaky breath, resting his head against my shoulder. Feeling bold, I stroke the hard length of him through the fine fabric, relishing his reaction to my touch.
With a groan, he roughly yanks down one of my off-the-shoulder sleeves and palms my exposed breast, then dips his head down to kiss it. I arch my back from the wall when he gently bites the sensitive tip, sliding his tongue across it afterwards and sending heat racing through my entire body.
Suddenly, the distant laughter from below sounds much closer, and I can hear footsteps coming up the stair. Draco snaps his head up and curses, looking back towards the main hall over his shoulder.
"Damn the impossible herd of guests father insists on inviting. Here, come with me." He carefully places my strap back in place, and grasps my hand firmly in his, pulling me with him further down the corridor.
I traipse along behind him, stifling a giggle. Who could have imagined I would be having a scandalous liaison at the Midwinter's Ball with Lord Draco Malfoy, usually my least favorite person at every social gathering? True enough, we have known each other for years, and he is admittedly quite handsome, but we bicker at almost every encounter, having been thrown together by our parents for so many society events growing up. But something about dancing with him tonight felt different. Perhaps it is the champagne, or perhaps I finally feel bold enough out of the watchful eye of my parents to act on a desire I've tried to ignore for years. I send a silent prayer of thanks to my inattentive chaperones, smiling to myself.
Hastening down the hall, we turn at the corner, and stop at a handsome oak door. He glances back behind me, and seems satisfied that no one has followed us. With a turn of an ornate handle, he opens the door for me, and I step inside.
We are in what is clearly his father's private study. The room is shrouded in darkness, save the soft light filtering in from the bay window from the gas lamps below. In the dim light, I can make out an elegant sofa facing a large desk, the desk situated so whomever sits at it views the door. My heels click on the hardwood floor as I step into the space, and I turn to see Draco pull the door silently shut.
For a second, we both just look at each other, still breathing raggedly from our attentions in the hall. Then with two long strides, he takes me back in his arms, kissing me hard enough to bruise. He bites at my lower lip, making me gasp a little, and deepens the kiss with his skillful tongue. Dazed by his rough touch, I moan into his mouth and press my hips into his. The iron hard stiffness in his trousers sends a rush of heat between my legs, and a sob of need escapes my lips.
"Eager, are we?" Draco smirks against my mouth.
I whine in frustration, reaching down again to trace the outline of his arousal.
He lets out a harsh breath and roughly picks me up against him, eyes dangerously bright. I instinctively wrap my legs around his waist, desperate to be closer to him, as he carries me further into the room. He moves to the elegant sofa, sitting down so that I am straddling his lap. I take the opportunity of my position and grind my hips into his, loving the way his breath catches unevenly at my movements.
"God have mercy, Miss Granger." He whispers, raising his hands to tug both of my sleeves down to reveal my chest. He takes my breasts in hand, palming, kneading - he pinches one pert nipple and I sigh in pleasure. Slowly, almost reverently, he lowers his icy blonde head to my breast and bites it gently, rolling the tip between his teeth. I buck my hips in response, searching for more connection. He lets out a growl, and his hands slide roughly down to push the skirt of my dress up over my thighs. I shudder a bit with the sudden exposure to the air, and rest my forehead against his. He holds my gaze as he draws circles high up on my legs. I can barely stand the anticipation as his hand moves ever upwards, towards my center, and then he pauses.
"Are you certain?" He asks, searching my eyes for permission.
I answer him with a scorching kiss and an airily breathed, "Yes."
In an instant, he's tearing away my satin undergarments, hands ghosting along my inner thigh. Heart racing, I unbuckle his belt and release him from his trousers. Draco breathes hard as I take him in hand, stroking up and down on the hot skin. He's iron hard and smooth as silk, and I am overcome with the need to be closer to him.
With a rustle of my skirts, I prop myself forward on my knees and rub my center against the length. Liquid heat rushes through me as we feel each other without any barriers for the first time. Simply grinding against him is driving me wild, and I am suddenly desperate to feel more- to feel him.
I slow my motions and guide him to my entrance, and for a moment we stand on the edge of the cliff.
And then I sink down.
I gasp out a soft cry as he draws in a hissing breath. Everything is him, the feel of him.
For a moment, we just hold each other's gaze- trying to confirm that this is truly happening. I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding, and he raises a hand to my face, grazing a thumb over my lips. Focused on my mouth, he pulls me to him for a burning kiss that's teeth and tongue and heat. I arch in his arms, and he holds me tightly in response.
Slowly, I take him in and out, trying to get used to the intrusion- he feels even larger than he looks, and I'm torn on the brink between pleasure and pain. I let out a moan, winding my hips up and down his length. Draco gives me a lopsided smile at my brazen motions, and my heart flips in my chest. He glides his hands down my waist and grips my hips firmly, pumping roughly into me. He is raw strength; untamed and uncontainable.
"You feel so - fuck, so good." He groans.
Between heavy breaths, I marvel at how expressive he is to my movements, how a single twist of my hips earns a wild reaction from his broad form. I run my hands along his powerful arms, feeling the sinewy muscles tense under my touch.
"God, please, yes-" I breathe, not fully able to complete my thoughts.
With a growl, he places open mouthed kisses down my breasts, and I rake a hand through his hair, bringing his head closer to me. He bites me, hard enough to bruise, but I find myself reeling from the delicious pain. It is pure physical bliss, and I want nothing more than for him to keep fucking into me until I forget my name. I circle my hips slowly, and he groans.
"You are- incredible," He chokes out in ragged breaths, pumping deeper up into me and reaching a delicious new angle. Somewhere in my pleasure, I vaguely wonder if the sofa will come crashing down at any moment. He takes me so roughly, so deep, it's almost violent - but I never want it to stop.
"Ah, yes, harder," I gasp into his hair, eyes fluttering in pleasure as I claw at his shoulders hard enough to leave a mark through his clothing.
Suddenly, I see movement out of my half-lidded eyes-
The study door is swinging open.
Panic shoots through me, and I jerk upwards, but Draco, faced away from the door, mistakes my movement as eagerness and groans in response, thrusting more powerfully into me.
God above, we are going to be caught!
My mind stops as I realize who has stepped through the door.
Lord Lucius Malfoy, the most infamous and mysterious member of the nobility, and father to the man currently fucking me into oblivion, stands shock-still in the doorway, eyes fixed on mine.
We both look at each other, eyes wide in surprise, unable to tear our gazes apart.
He is frozen in place, one hand on the ornate door handle, one hand holding a mostly empty crystal tumbler he has clearly come in to refill, eyes taking in the scene. From his position, I know he can tell who sits beneath me- the icy shade of the Malfoy hair is unmistakable. My mind is racing, barely comprehending the impossible scandal of the situation. This cannot be happening. My breath catches in my throat, and I find myself completely unable to move. It seems an eternity passes, eyes locked irrevocably on each other.
What will happen now?
Lucius swallows visibly, and seems to let out a shaky, silent breath. Then he brings one elegant finger to his mouth, motioning for me to not cause an alarm.
My eyes flicker between his, surely he cannot mean-
Then he lets his gaze drag down to my exposed breasts, mouth slightly ajar, and slowly meets my eyes again with a dark, hungry look. There is no mistaking his intentions.
He intends to watch.
A forbidden thrill far beyond any I've ever known courses through me at the impossible idea - my breath starts to come in heavy, quick gasps as I keep my eyes locked on him. I suddenly, irrationally feel that I'll do anything to hold his gaze.
A rush of wetness comes to my core at the electrifying feel of being on display. I begin to build a steady rhythm on Draco's thick shaft, rising and falling on my knees as I take him deeper and deeper inside me, all the while focusing on those grey eyes in the shadows.
Draco hisses in pleasure at my new pace, and begins fucking me in earnest. I gasp loudly at the pleasure that courses through me, holding on to his shoulders as if my life depends on it as he buries his head in the crook of my neck. Lucius looks at me with burning eyes, and braces a hand on the doorframe, shoulders shaking slightly with the effort of his deep, silent breaths.
It is the single most erotic moment of my life. It's devastating. It's nothing I've ever imagined in my darkest dreams- Lucius's eyes burning a brand on me as I'm fucked to pieces in his son's arms. Everything has changed in an instant. I live for the gaze of my forbidden voyeur, feel I shall die without it. Desires I've never known before come rushing to my mind. I follow the movement of his eyes with my body, riding up and down at his silent command. Feeling drunk in a way that has nothing to do with champagne, I open my mouth, heart racing, and sigh out a name.
"Malfoy..."
Draco whispers my name into my neck in response, but it isn't only his reaction I'm searching for. Lucius now grips firmly onto the doorframe, knuckles white, eyes wide in the realization that it's his name I'm breathing. Even in the dark, I can see the prominent outline of his arousal through his trousers, and the evidence of his desire awakens a streak of sheer lust within me.
Emboldened, I lean my neck back to gaze at him with half-lidded eyes, and say it again, deliberately.
"Malfoy…"
He stares at me with the most primal look I have ever seen. His handsome countenance is thrown dramatically into shadow in the darkness of the room, and I can almost believe he is some kind of dark angel, sent to seduce me to my own ruin. I have never felt such a thrill, never felt so alive - I decide if this moment is the key to my undoing, so be it. I have to see him, have to know him, have to keep his eyes on me at any cost in this world.
Draco is thrusting into me with all his brute strength now. It's too much, yet I can't get enough- the feel of him fucking me so deeply, combined with the sheer eroticism of his father's stare, I cannot hope to hold on any longer, yet Lucius keeps my gaze as if to say, wait, wait for my command. I can feel the pressure inside me mounting, that most secret part of me coming to life. Lucius holds his breath now, unblinking, transfixed -
"Malfoy!" I gasp, hanging for a moment on the precipice, clinging to the grey eyes grounding me to this earth. He gives me a single nod - permission - and then I come undone. Pleasure hits me like a breaking wave, crashing down in and around me, and I cry out his name one last time.
Gasping for breath, I feel Draco suddenly tighten, then pump into me in quick, deep thrusts as he releases his pleasure, choking on my name as he comes.
Lucius finally breaks my gaze, lowering his head to let out a shallow breath. When he looks up again, a strand of platinum hair has fallen into his face- it makes him look dangerous, almost unhinged.
The way he looks at me leaves a unseen scar, and I know I have been changed forever.
He straightens up from his leaning position, and drains the rest of his drink in a single swig. Letting his eyes rake over me one more time, he turns back into the hallway and closes the door silently behind him. As he leaves, an indescribable sense of loss echoes in my chest.
I cling to Draco for support as my rapid heartbeat jaggedly slows down. The man in my arms dusts lazy kisses along my shoulder, murmuring sweet nothings in my ear in the aftermath of our tryst. He is entirely ignorant of what has just transpired, unaware of the life-altering experience he unwittingly played part in. The weight of the situation comes crashing down upon me, and I find myself at a loss in the wake of the revelation of my darkest desires.
What have we done?
Lucius and I share a heated gaze, each clearly lost in the forbidden memories of that fateful night. There is silence once again.
He drops his gaze to the floor, and seems to decide something.
"Draco does not know what I saw that night, and I intend to keep it that way." He says softly, nodding to himself.
He finishes his whiskey and places the glass down, and without looking at me, begins to cross the room to the door. I step forward before I can stop myself, my heart feeling like it's falling to the floor with his every pace away from me.
But truly, what had I expected?
I look away, desperate to appear unaffected. I try not to think of the scenarios I had envisioned, alone in my sleepless nights, of what would happen when we finally met again. Of sighing his name across the darkness. Of his grey eyes grounding me to this earth.
"He must never know."
Click.
I snap my head back to look at him - his hand is sliding over the ornate bronze deadbolt, locking it shut with a sound that echoes in the stillness of the room. He speaks clearly, turning to face me.
"...but I cannot let him have you all to himself."
And all the air in the room goes out. The emotional toll of the day suddenly hits me at full force. The shock of the news of my arranged marriage, my conflicting desires for Draco's wild strength and reckless abandon against the dark, forbidden control and command of his father. I suddenly feel as though the floor beneath me is shifting, the room spinning- anticipation wars with incredulity in my mind.
My eyes flicker between his, searching wildly for understanding. He continues in a steady, low voice.
"You will marry my son, as agreed upon. But you will not belong to him."
His words fall thick in the space between us, lingering in the silence. Something deep within me twists at the insinuation.
"What do you mean to say?" I breathe.
"I would not ever think to deny you your rightful life. Draco will be a devoted husband, though he will often be abroad handling the family estates and holdings, and I shall ensure that your daily life is as you wish it. You will be free and encouraged to continue your writing, and any other activities that please you," He continues, studying me with a level gaze.
"He will be your lover, but when he cannot be here...you shall not go without." He steps closer to me, and I unconsciously step backwards. I grasp for an eloquent response, but simply stutter in shock.
"You cannot - you cannot possibly be serious. You would have me be unfaithful to your son?"
"I believe that you will truly give him everything that you are able. I have seen how he makes you feel- how you react to a wild touch and reckless abandon. My son's ways are...enthusiastic," A wry smirk pulls at his mouth, hinting at pride, before the humor falls away from his expression, "but he lacks control. He cannot give you what you truly crave."
"And what would you know of what I crave?" It's a transparent bluff, but it tumbles out of my mouth, somehow sounding like a challenge. Another step, and I feel my back hit the wood paneled wall. He comes ever closer, and I have nowhere to go - my heart drums in anticipation.
He reaches me at last, and raises an elegant hand to tip my chin up to meet his gaze.
"Little madam, do not pretend- I have seen it within you." He whispers deadly low, eyes dangerously bright, "We share the same darkness, you and I. And you will not deny it."
He is so close to me now. I'm enveloped by the scent of sandalwood and pine; I can almost feel the heat of his form. All logic and reason abandon me- I have never wanted anything more in my life. Dizziness threatens to overtake me as I realize what is about to happen.
"Malfoy…" I whisper, placing my hands on his chest to steady myself. He looks down at them in concern, as if he expects me to push him away.
"Do you wish me to stop?" He asks in a guarded tone, and in his question I feel the weight of a life-altering decision. Can I go on, pretending that the moment I've felt most alive on this earth never happened? Can I live my days as I once did, in ignorance of the strongest desire I have ever known? ...can I walk away from him?
It's as if I've known the answer all my life.
"Never." I breathe.
A storm of emotions; relief, joy, pain; all mix together in that stare I can no longer live without. A moment later, they're gone, and in their place is a dark need the likes of which I've never seen. I shudder with desire at the thought, and find myself wanting to be further in his control.
He seems to read my mind, and in an instant, he gathers my wrists in one hand and pins them against the wall above me, leaning forward to speak in my ear.
"Now, little one," he murmurs, moving to place slow, open mouthed kisses down my neck, "I will show you what you crave."
His words send an erotic thrill through me, and I let out a quiet whimper of need. This seems to please him, and his face twists into a dark smirk as he drags his free hand down to the neckline of my gown. He hooks a finger into the edge of the fabric, tugging it down until my flushed chest is fully revealed to him.
I feel the pressure at my hands above me lessen as he brings down his other hand, and I shiver in anticipation, desperate for the feel of his mouth and teeth on me until my breasts are red with attention.
But it doesn't come. He pulls me towards him and turns me around, swiftly grasping both of my hands behind my back as I let out a surprised gasp.
"W-what are you doing?" I whisper, as he begins to steer me behind the desk.
A low chuckle echoes in my ears.
"I am giving you what you want."
For a moment, I imagine being bent over the handsome desk for him, but before I can relish the fantasy, we move past the desk. To my confusion, he is guiding me towards the window- I jerk in his arms, realizing that my chest is completely exposed.
"Wait, there are people down below-" I breathe rapidly, though a spike of eroticism begins coursing through me.
"Yes, there are. And they could look up at any moment," He hisses in my ear as he brings me fully up to the window, the cold touch of the glass making me jump as my sensitive breasts press against it. It is as if I am back in that moment in time, when Lucius held my gaze in the darkness. Lust and excitement burn in my veins as he continues, "... and that excites you, doesn't it?"
I'm breathing heavily now, fogging up the window as I lean my face into the cold surface, a perfect contrast to the heat behind me. Liquid heat is gathering between my thighs at the thrill of being on display. I look down below me, watching the slow trickle of guests coming and going, oblivious to the exhibition going on above them.
I feel the rustle of my chiffon skirts being lifted and dragged slowly upwards, until my high heeled legs are fully exposed to the elegant man behind me. He lazily slides a hand down the curve of my outer thigh, gently toying with my silk undergarments that are dampening with every moment. He leans forward and watches the snowy scene below us, murmuring into my hair.
"What do you think they would do if they looked up and saw us? If they saw you displayed for me, spread for me?" At this, he uses a knee to force my legs apart, and I'm pushed even further against the glass, hands flat on the cold surface as I shudder with desire at being revealed to him.
The hand playing with my silk knickers moves, finding my exposed center and grazing it from over the fabric. He lets out a groan, and I know he can feel how impossibly wet I am. The distant voice of propriety in my mind tells me I should be ashamed at the clear evidence of my lust, but I can't stop myself from tilting my hips back towards him, searching more connection.
"All of this, all for me..." He breathes, running his hand more boldly between my legs, electrifying me through the soaked material. I whine at the touch, praying that he will continue, as I dazedly gaze at a laughing couple emerge from a carriage. Will they see us?
"Ah, did you want something, then?" He chuckles. "You have to say it, little one."
My stomach flips at his name for me. It sounds so impossibly erotic coming from his low voice.
"I need you." I whisper.
"To what?" He presses, circling my center through the fabric.
"To touch me." I choke out, my world shrinking down to the movement between my legs.
"Say it again." He demands softly, fingers racing faster against me.
"I need you….to touch me."
Then those strong fingers slip inside my knickers, and it's all I can do to stay upright. He strokes languidly against my soaked folds, and a single digit plunges up into me. I cry out, harsh breath leaving a fog on the window. He moves in skilled, purposeful strokes, curling inside me, pulling pleasure from me. His body is pressed flush against mine, he cages me in with his free arm propping him up against the glass. A second finger joins, stretching me. He slowly rotates them, relishing each sigh and moan he drags out of me.
"Hell take me, I knew you would feel this way." He whispers, "So wet, just for me… do you like being exposed like this, those perfect breasts against the glass, displayed for the world to see?"
I whimper, and nod furiously against the window, watching the crowd below in a delirium, as if I am no longer fully in my body. They are carefree, oblivious, but all it would take is one person glancing up to see us...
"Tell me," He orders, working his hand roughly within me as waves of pleasure crash over my heated skin.
"Yes," I gasp quietly, "Yes, I love it…" Lust spikes through me at my own admission- that I am living for the thrill of being controlled and tormented, laid bare at the risk of being caught. My thighs are slick with desire as he brings me to the brink of perfect pleasure time and again, keeping me coasting on a never ending high.
"And what if they saw me fucking into you?"
The obscenity of his words sends me over the edge. I come on his hand, hard. My heart stops, then thunders in my chest so fast that the corners of my vision blur - I let out a strangled cry, and he grips me firmly to keep me upright as I lose myself in pleasure.
For a minute, he simply holds me to him. Through the dizzying pounding of the blood in my veins, I become aware of something very hard and hot behind me. I instinctively arch back into him to feel more of him, and he lets out a shaky breath.
He remains silent, but one hand leaves me, and then I hear the clinking of a belt buckle. Anticipation rages through me. I have dreamt of this moment for so many nights, woken from sinful dreams to tangled sheets and an ache in my center impossible to ease. It has to be, has to happen...
My knickers are pulled to one side, fully exposing my soaking core to him. And then he thrusts into me, and my world collapses. It is everything. The feel of his hard length stretching me is beyond anything I've ever imagined- I choke on a sob, and he hisses in response. I need him, need more.
He seems to read my mind, and begins slowly pumping in and out of me, that iron stiffness hitting the most devastating angle. All I can focus on is the feeling of being so incredibly full. It's like I have been missing this forever, like I was always meant to fit on his length. I'm dripping with need for him. I push back towards him and he lets out a groan, gripping my hips with a bruising strength as he begins to move faster within me. I wonder what we look like, framed in passion in the window, from the grounds below...
Knock, knock.
"Father? Are you in there?"
We both freeze at the sound of Draco's voice at the door. I hear the door handle jiggle, and I thank every single star in the sky that Lucius locked it.
"I'm looking for Hermione, have you seen her? She sort of ran off after I told her that we're making the announcement tonight…" Draco continues hesitantly.
I jump a little at the mention of my name.
"Not a sound," Lucius whispers in a warning tone in my ear, and he begins slowly pistoning into me again. He clears his throat and continues in a clear voice.
"Draco, I am perusing a document that must be sent out in the morning. Have you tried checking the conservatory?"
He thrusts abruptly into me, eliciting a gasp I do my best to muffle. He tuts softly and brings a large hand to cover my mouth, firm enough to quiet me but not to threaten. The mere action makes my knees weak, and I can't help but sigh soundlessly into his hand.
"No, I haven't yet. I thought she would be in the library, but she wasn't." My betrothed's voice responds from beyond the door.
"The fact that she is a writer does not necessarily mean that she would choose the library as a refuge. If anything, she'd likely avoid it because it is expected. Don't concern yourself, I am certain she will come when she wants to." Lucius drawls the double-entendre innocently, lazily pumping into me as I whimper into his hand. I feel dizzy with thrill- the risk of being caught on both sides is maddening.
"Fair enough. I'll keep looking- will you come down to make the announcement once I find her?" The younger man asks.
"I wouldn't miss it for the world, my son." Lucius responds in a tone that bears no evidence of his sinful actions, and I hear Draco's footsteps fade away down the hall.
"It would seem you are missed, little one," He breathes into my ear, hand still firmly clamped over my mouth, "It appears I shall just have to take you hard and fast," his voice strains on his words as he begins fucking me with a strength that nearly sends me immediately over the edge. It's brutal and elegant; obscene and beautiful.
The sheer roughness of his thrusts makes me cry out into his hand, my breaths muffled erotically as he slams into me again and again. It's almost too much, but I balance on the delicious brink of pleasure and pain, praying that he will never stop. Each thrust hits me at the perfect angle, and tears of overwhelmed pleasure gather in the corner of my eyes, misting over my vision of the snowy world beyond the window.
"You're so deep," I gasp, the sound muffled but still audible to his ears. He chuckles darkly and continues his brutal pace inside me.
"So deep in you… is this what you craved?" He murmurs behind me, picking up speed. I hear his breath falter a bit, the only crack in his perfect control.
He pistons up into me, his iron rod reaching that most secret part of me. I am completely flush with the glass now, being fucked to infinity on display. With every thrust, I give myself further to this impossible situation. I can't imagine ever being without him, I crave his length, his touch, his control… I lift my hips up and push myself further back against him, creating a more extreme angle, and he growls in response.
"God above, that will end me," He chokes, driving into me with a suddenly inhuman strength. I sob into his hand, I need him, forever, forever, forever…
His hand leaves my mouth and delves down between us, he circles my sensitive clit with his thumb, sending jolts of almost unbearable pleasure spiking through me.
"Come for me, my beautiful, beautiful girl…" He says in a strained whisper, orchestrating my every nerve with his hands and rod as I gasp uncontrollably. Almost, almost -
And I come undone. I cry out his name as my world shatters once again. For a moment I forget who and where we are, enraptured by the hard stiffness inside me that is still thrusting me into oblivion.
"Yes, yes, take me -" He breathes, and then chokes as he comes deep inside me, pumping hard final thrusts into me before coming to a shuddering stop. We both breathe raggedly, edging down from our releases. He gathers his arms around me, breathing deeply into my hair. It's as if time slows down, as I listen to the sound of our rapid heartbeats in the stillness of the room. I know in this moment… my life will never be the same.
With a quiet groan, he pulls out of me, and I immediately feel a sense of loss, somehow hollow without him. The strong arms wrapped around me gently turn me around, and once more I meet that captivating grey gaze. He stares searchingly back at me, then brings me closer to him to lay a soft kiss on my forehead, hands pulling my bodice back into place and then adjusting his trousers before pulling me back into his embrace.
"Forgive me, little one, my presence is required in the ballroom," He whispers, "but I will promise you this: tonight is only the beginning."
I grasp him tightly, nodding into his shoulder.
"I understand what I need to do." I reply, breaking away from him but keeping my hands on his chest and taking a deep breath to clear my mind.
"I do suggest getting some rest… having two gentlemen to keep up with shall certainly require maintaining one's energy." He muses, that wry glimmer back in his eyes.
I blush at his words, imagining having both men at my mercy- one so wild and brash; the other controlled and domineering. I've never felt so beset on all sides, but I think to myself that I'll be up for the task.
Lucius parts from me, and pours himself one last tumbler of his finest whiskey, knocking it back in a single swallow. He turns and strides towards the door, before pausing and turning towards me. He gives me a small, genuine smile that sends my heart aching in my chest.
"Until the announcement."
And the door shuts behind him.
The guests murmur excitedly, whispering amongst themselves over what has caused the band to halt and their elegant yet famously reserved host to appear at the center of the ballroom stage. The man cuts an imposing figure, his expensive grey suit complementing his icy hair, and I marvel again at how handsome he is, relishing the excuse to gaze upon him openly as he effortlessly commands the attention of every soul in the room.
I stand at the edge of the crowd, doing my best to appear nonchalant even though my heart is still racing at the thoughts of my earlier activities. My fiance stands confidently next to me, surveying the scene with a self-assured air in anticipation of the announcement. The two are so similar and yet so wildly their own - one reckless and wild, the other patient and refined. Two sides of the same silver coin...
Lucius clears his throat and raises a crystal flute of champagne. The audience falls silent, the only sound in the hall the quiet tinkle of the staff pouring the toast. I do my best to avoid eye contact with my parents, concerned that I will unintentionally reveal that I already know of the arrangement.
"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for joining us for this remarkable evening. The Annual Midwinter's Ball has unfailingly been a pleasure to host, even in the last five years without my Narcissa. It was always her favorite event of the year, and I cherish carrying on this tradition in her memory."
Several beautiful older women near us snap open their silk hand fans, rapt attention fixed upon the host of the event as they fan themselves prettily. Draco stiffens slightly next to me.
"But tonight in particular is indeed an evening to remember, as I have a momentous announcement to make." Lucius continues, gazing about the glittering crowd with an auspicious air, proud smirk fixed upon his lips.
"It is my unparalleled honor to share with you tonight the future of the Malfoy lineage. My only son, Draco, has at last chosen a bride."
Loud gasps break out across the crowd, accompanied by encouraging cheers.
"Please join me in welcoming the next Lady Malfoy..."
Those grey eyes turn to me, and my heart flips in my chest.
"...Miss Hermione Granger."
The crowd is in an uproar, the applause is deafening. Perfectly on cue, the band starts back up in a fast paced, joyous flourish.
Draco takes my hand in his large one, and breathes, "Ready?"
It is all I can do to nod, and he sweeps me to the center of the dance floor. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see my parents clinging happily to each other. To the guests' raucous cheers, Draco twirls me elegantly in his arms, and spins me back to him for an impossibly low dip, then gathers me back in his arms and gives me a dizzying kiss.
I can only concentrate on his large form around me, the heat of his kiss, the spice of his cologne, but then we break away for propriety's sake, and Lucius's eyes are the first I see. He raises his glass to us, nods, and Draco kneels before me. In an instant, I realize he is sliding a stunning ring onto my hand, large gems reflecting the glittering light of the chandeliers.
"Nothing but the finest for the Malfoy bride." Draco muses playfully with a devastating smirk.
The Malfoy bride…
In the back of my mind, a low voice echoes...
"When he cannot be here, you shall not go without."
My eyes flicker between the two Malfoys, contemplating the unintentional meaning of my fiance's words. It is too late to go back now. I can never undo the events of this evening; could never regret it for as long as I live.
And so, the Malfoy bride I shall become.
Author's Note: Hermione is a lucky girl, isn't she? Review if you'd like!