FIC CHALLENGE ISSUED BY ROSE ELEANOR SCHULTZ (requirements listed below):
1. Dramione
2. Angsty
3. has to have a happy ending.
4. draco and hermione have to meet in odd circumstances.
5. their meeting has to be forced
6. takes place after graduation from Hogwarts
7. must have a pair of pearl earrings and a gold diamond ring
8. must have a slytherin green tie
9. harry can't be a prat but is kinda leery of draco
10. no speaking part for ron
11. must have smutty goodness
Okay, below is part 1 of a multi-part fic. Please review! Would love to hear your thoughts!
I'D RATHER BE IN LOVE
By: RZZMG
CHAPTER ONE: La Ville de l'Amour
May 27, 2004 (Thursday)
Hermione Granger was nothing if not systematically prepared.
She was, she'd been told by her boss, the very epitome of diligent readiness and disciplined organization, a fact which had helped her realise her dream position as Junior Secretary to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement just six short years after leaving the hallowed and beloved halls of Hogwarts.
Planning every detail to produce flawless results was the key to her success.
—Which was why she was currently working through her notes again.
Some people might think re-reading a speech for the twelfth time to be obsessive, with a side-order of compulsive to go with it, but to Hermione, it was why she was at the top of her game and heading higher every year.
Quelling the nervous butterflies in her tummy, she focused her attention on the assignment. This was an important day in her life: a chance to address her peers at an annual international conference on Wizarding Law (being held in Paris this time around – a city she'd never visited, but had desperately wanted to since her Fourth Year, when she'd made acquaintances with some of the Beauxbatons girls), unveiling her idea to change some of the archaic decrees and regulations on the books for the first time publicly. In order to accomplish that goal, she had to have her 'game face' on; to make sure she didn't blunder over a single piece of information once she was up in front of everyone. And the management of thrice-checked facts was the key to that success!
When she'd drilled her speech into her head again and felt relatively confident of her command of the material, she shut her eyes and vocally regurgitated her memorized opening statements into the mirror in the currently-vacant women's powder room at the conference hall, practicing to perfect them in the quiet solitude:
"Marriage is a unique institution that defines the human condition. Unlike any other race that we share this world with, it is human kind alone that enters into the rationally calculated agreement of legally binding – not spiritually binding – contracts to dictate our relationships with one another. Centaurs, Veela, Goblins, and Vampires all take life mates, but those relationships are racially and culturally motivated to be irrevocable…"
The sound of clothing rustling stopped her cold. Was someone here? She hadn't seen anyone come in during the last five minutes since she'd entered. She held her breath, listening for at least a minute. When the sound did not repeat, she convinced herself it was just her nerves and continued her previous engagement:
"The institution of human marriage, however, holds the single distinction of being emotionally disconnected. It serves as no more than legal precedent that governs the division of property rights, confirms issues of blood purity, defines child custody responsibilities, and influences medical long-term health care decision-making…"
She stopped again. Had that been the sound of a shoe squeaking against tile? It had certainly seemed like it. But perhaps it was just the old pipes in this place; the building had been around for almost four hundred years, after all.
She cleared her throat and continued:
"Marriage Laws in the Wizarding World are governed by an archaic, medieval set of codes established under Wizengamot's Decree 50.1 through 59.9, established in 1448 and sanctioned officially by the Committee for Moral…"
A small moan of what sounded like pain emitted from the furthest stall on the right. Now there was no question. Someonewas here with her, and from the sound of it, they might be in trouble. Unfortunately, she couldn't see a bloody thing when she tipped over at the waist to look – not even shoes – as each private chamber was covered by two solid sides and a full-length wooden door that effectively hid away each toilet, giving the user complete visual privacy. It was just typical of the French to be so liberal about social issues, and yet squeamish about the concept of a natural biologic function like using the toilet, she thought ironically.
"Hello?" she called out, stepping off the carpeted area and onto marble stone, heading towards the pink-painted compartment in question. "I'm awfully sorry to pry, but… are you all right?"
The gasp and sigh that came from behind the door at the end was followed by the door itself being banged upon once from the other side. Withdrawing her wand, Hermione was convinced that there might be a medical emergency on-going and hurried over to the stall, reaching for the knob. It was locked. "M'am, pardonnez moi, but… well, I don't really speak French," she admitted, stammering over her embarrassment. "But, do you need help?"
"Go the fuck away!" a man's voice growled, followed by what was clearly the sound of a woman giggling. A female "ooooh, oui!" of delight followed immediately thereafter, and then the sound of two people gasping and moaning grew at the same time as the door banging increased.
"Oh. My. God," Hermione gasped, finally putting two-and-two together. "I'm… I'm sorry!" she squeaked as she ran for the exit, gathering her note cards up at the last second and running back into the convention area, heart pounding under her ribs like a drill, breath coming fast. She'd forgotten, but the other thing you could trust the French for was that sex was an anytime-anywhere sort of thing; they prized spontaneity - or so she'd read from Ginny's honeymoon postcards.
Her pinked face flushed a deeper shade of crimson with mortification as she realized the full implication of what was going on right now behind the door to her right. She skittered across the hallway towards a magical drinking fountain on the other side, diagonal from the women's loo and took a good, long drag of cool, refreshing water. Then, she leaned against the wall on this side and shut her eyes for a few moments to clear her thoughts and regain her focus. Her presentation was in less than half an hour; she needed to forget the scene she'd just accidentally intruded upon and get back into "scholar mode."
Just as she'd resolved to do so, and had regained her sense of perspective, the bathroom door opened. Out peeked a beautiful honey-blonde with a fashionably short bob, dressed in a mid-thigh black skirt and dark green blouse. The young woman checked both sides, and then indicated that someone was to follow her out. This, Hermione realized in shock, was the overly-enthusiastic sex couple! She wondered who they were…
When a platinum-blonde head framing a stunning face ducked out next, Hermione would have recognized that smirk anywhere, even from across six years, five hundred and sixty kilometers, and one very cold English channel. Her jaw dropped open and she blinked twice to make sure she was truly witnessing the sight before her. Yes, it was true. The angelic visage with the devil's soul was, indeed, the mysterious sex fiend!
It was Draco sodding Malfoy.
Apparently determining the coast was clear, the woman leaned up and pressed a passionate snog onto her (ick!) lover, palming him a piece of paper at the same time, and then she hurried off (but not before Hermione caught the flash of a gold diamond ring on her left hand; add 'accompli adulterer' to that blacklist against Malfoy!). When the lady was out of sight, the man glanced around quickly, and then his steely, arctic gaze locked onto Hermione's dark cider-colored peepers and his smirk widened. He sauntered over casually, thrusting pale, well-manicured hands into his woolen, dark charcoal slacks, his silken, light grey button-up, sleekly cut for his obviously well-developed frame – molded to him as he moved. A dark tie – which reminded her of his old school uniform's Slytherin green accessory, with its fashionable stripes – draped undone around his neck; apparently, he had no intention of fixing the thing. Self-assured arrogance simply radiated across the meters. Hermione narrowed her eyes, observing her one-time foe closely.
This was not the same skinny, weak, closed, angry Draco Malfoy she remembered from the summer after her Seventh Year, when they'd both returned (along with a handful of other students) to study and sit their N.E.W.T.s (McGonagall had offered the opportunity to all those who'd missed the chance because of the war, so Hermione had grabbed at it… as had Malfoy). The man coming towards her exuded a sharp, very masculine confidence and a captivating, seductive grace with every step, and he was positively gorgeous. Slurpilicious, even, to use a Ginny turn-of-phrase. Of course, he also seemed to know this fact.
"That was as dry and unsexy an open declaration against love and familial duty as I'd expect from someone like you, Granger," he mocked rudely, stopping a meter away and staring at her knowingly. "And given in the loo, no less. Nice glasses by the way."
Flattening her gaze, she adjusted her spectacles again (that was not a nervous gesture, she reassured herself) and looked over the rims of them at him in distinct disapproval. "Better than what you were 'giving' - in a bog stall no less, Malfoy.That's about as unsexy as one can get, and only proves my ultimate point that even the sophistry of love need not be present for sex or marriage to take place," she countered.
At first, he seemed surprised with the witty, acidic come-back, and then he pulled out an all-time favorite: the Malfoy Derisive Laugh. "This is La Ville de l'Amour, princess. Anything goes, regardless of legal status." He peeked at her from under long, golden eyelashes. "Then again, I suppose you wouldn't know anything about hot, passionate stuff, Miss 'rationally calculated, emotionally disconnected.' I'm betting your knickers are even starched."
Hermione cleared her throat, affecting a bored, disdainful mask. "At least I'm wearing knickers," she shot back. "Unlike the slag you just worked over." She tsk'd and made a face like she'd bitten into lemons. "How utterly vulgar and completely predictable of a slimy git like you to shag on a toilet."
To her surprise, Malfoy tossed his head back and laughed genuinely. "Oh, I've missed locking horns with you, Mudblood!" he grinned wickedly. "Of all the girls in school, you were the only one who could keep up, you know."
She huffed, realizing that she didn't have time for this foolishness. Checking her Muggle watch on her wrist, she tsk'd again; twenty minutes left and counting. Moving off the wall, she shoved past the former Slytherin bully and made her way towards the hall where she would be presenting. "Sparring with the intellectually and emotionally disabled is hardly a challenge, Malfoy."
Behind her, another good natured laugh burst out from between the man's lips. "All this verbal teasing is giving me a big hard-on, Granger," he called out and she was utterly mortified that he'd shouted that across the lobby. Thank the Founders that the hallway was abandoned as all of the attendees were currently sitting in on the big event of the weekend: "Overturning Lycanthopic Legislation: A Struggle For Equality," presented by none other than her best friend, Harry Potter (who'd taken up the cause on behalf of Remus Lupin, who had died during the war).
"Can't be all that impressive a size or technique, Malfoy," she called back with a wave. "You hardly lasted three minutes with the Swedish Barbie doll." With that, she disappeared through a door into backstage, and made her way down a narrow, carpeted hallway. She turned left at the end and continued down until she came to a door marked, "Main Auditorium." Opening it quietly and carefully, she stepped in and took a seat, waiting behind the curtain for Harry's presentation to end. Her friend was giving an impassioned speech for werewolf rights, suggesting (and presenting financial facts) for more money be funneled towards research for a cure to the violent metamorphic disease which had afflicted his friend (and now others, thanks to Fenrir Greyback, who had escaped capture after the war, and was still on the loose).
Leaning her head back and closing her eyes again, Hermione concentrated on her speech once more. Absently, she noted that her nerves were now at ease. In fact, all her muscles felt loosened and her mind calm, relaxed even. She felt a little like she was sinking into the afterglow following really great sex, which boosted her confidence level immensely. She coulddefinitely do this. There was absolutely no need for nervousness. She'd deliver her discourse on the antiquated Wizarding Marriage Laws and, like Harry, make the case to her fellow intellectuals that they needed to be seriously revamped – and the sooner, the better. Never again would she allow another woman to fall prey to the same twisted rules that had made her divorce from Ron so painful and difficult to achieve.
Just before Harry concluded his lecture-plea, it occurred to her why she was feeling so euphoric: she had finally gotten one over on Draco Malfoy. The parting, rapier-like shot she'd hurled at him had been brilliantly delivered so flippantly that it had left him speechless (if she did say so herself, with a tiny pat of congratulations). All those years, all those insults traded, and she'd finally shut him up.
Sweet gobstones, could the day, week, month or year get any better?
X~~~~~~~~~~X
May 29, 2004 (Saturday)
The day the conference ended, Hermione bid goodbye to Harry (who popped back to The Burrow immediately to be with Ginny, who was eight months pregnant now) and made a very irrational, unplanned, unorganized, un-Hermione-like decision that would change the rest of her life: she was going to cash in on her vacation days. She had four full weeks, having never taken any days off in the last six years (not even sick days), and she wanted to enjoy herself a little. She'd earned it, after all, and she had more than enough money in the bank saved up to live comfortably for over two years even if she were to lose her job tomorrow (which wasn't likely to happen), so she owl'd her boss and her secretary and made the arrangements, then sat down to make her plans for a month-long, whirlwind European tour!
She hadn't felt so excited since her days defying Dolores Umbridge at school.
X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X
May 30, 2004 (Sunday)
The next afternoon, sitting at an outdoor café, sipping a latte and partaking of a rich chocolate cake with fresh strawberries, she checked her Muggle guide for European sites of interest against her Wizard's guide (which was charmed to look like just another Muggle travel book to everyone else so it would be safe to view in public). She planned to go to the Louvre tomorrow, and to check out the other typical touristy things in Paris for the next four days. After that, shopping in Zurich, and resting for a day or two in Interlaken in Switzerland were also on the itinerary. Then she'd be off to Mainau and Reichenau Island on Lake Constance in Germany to experience the series of pre-history wizard powerstone circles and ley lines which surrounded the place. She wasn't sure about the travel route, but she definitely wanted to try the wines in Tuscany, Italy, to go swimming off the Isle of Capri, and to see some of her mother's family's homeland in Greece. In between... well, that was still very open, so she looked at the various countries to determine what sounded interesting.
A shadow blocked the sun off to her right and she looked up and over to find out who the rude stranger was who'd approached her might be.
"Hate to admit it, Granger, but you look passably attractive in Muggle trappings."
Groaning, Hermione adjusted her photo-tinted lenses on her face. "Sod off, Malfoy," she sighed heavily. "You're ruining my holiday and blocking my sun."
Without being invited, he took the seat opposite her instead. "You're on vacation then? Excellent! What are we doing first?"
As calmly as possible, she put the guides down next to her plate, fiddled with her glasses again so she was looking over the rims at him again and frowned. "We aren't doing anything. I am planning to enjoy a few days in France before heading out to see the continent on a month-long tour." She took a bite of her cake, letting the smooth chocolate soothe her soured mood, pointedly ignoring her former schoolmate.
"Has anyone ever told you that you're not pretty when you're acting the shrew?" he asked, clearly amused by the banter, but then answered his own question quickly, not giving her a chance to defend herself. "Oh, wait, I have. Many times. You'd think you'd have listened by now."
Picking back up her books, she skimmed the table of contents and then flipped to the section on Greece. Her wizarding guide stated that Zagorohoria boasted rare magical creatures - that sounded interesting.
"Speaking of hearing problems, I told you to bugger off," she said.
"I'll tell you what, Granger," Malfoy continued to buzz around. "Throw out those guides and I'll take you around Europe free of charge. I know all the best places that aren't listed in those books of yours. And since I've been to every country on the continent, we can Apparate there directly, avoiding unreliable modes of transportation."
"Listen, Malfoy," she began, but hesitated, really thinking about what he'd said. It was true that if she could Apparate instead of having to book passage on trains (undependable in some areas), rent a Muggle car (expensive!), or take an airplane (gulp!), it would save her a tremendous amount of time and effort – which she could use towards seeing even more things! Good time management would be the key to enjoying this spontaneous vacation to the max!
Wait, what the hell was she thinking? Traveling about with Draco Malfoy wasn't her idea of a fun holiday; it was more like a trip down the River Styx with Hades himself. "Forget it," she sniffed, surprised that she'd even considered the idea for a moment. "I can't stand your mean and obnoxious attitude. You hate everything about me. We'd tear each other apart."
Her uninvited companion was silent for a bit, so she looked up to find out what the man was up to. Never trust a Slytherin when they were quiet, she remembered from her school days. Malfoy was leaning his chin on the palm of his right hand, elbow up on the table, staring at her, considering her behind enigmatic (magnetic!) grey eyes.
"What?" she asked, suddenly apprehensive, her fingers moving unconsciously to fiddle with her pearl earring stud in her right ear (a habit she'd acquired since having sat across a table with Ron and his wizard solicitor for hours, negotiating the terms of their divorce). Never before in their shared history had Draco Malfoy ever looked at her like he was now. She couldn't decipher what he was thinking, and there was no barbed commentary to give her a clue as to his thoughts. He didn't seem angry, annoyed, or mocking, but he didn't seem happy either (not that she would know what that looked like on the man, as he'd never been anything but angry, annoyed, or mocking to her). It was rather unnerving, honestly.
"I'm bored, Granger," he finally stated, sighing. His fingers ran through his long, white-gold bangs, which dropped (attractively!) into his face. "Life's become too predictable. I want something… more."
Hermione blinked in confusion. "I can't see as how you can say that, given how you've got the world at your feet, Malfoy. You're rich, handsome, well-groomed and successful in business. Your family reputation somehow turned itself around after the war so that now you're probably receiving as many Ministry-function invites as Harry, Ron and I – how did you manage that, by the way? You've got beautiful women throwing themselves at you everywhere you go, if the rumors in the society pages are true. You own a bloody Quidditch team." She took a sip of her latte and stared at him evenly. "And here you are whinging on about being bored and wanting even more? You sound like a spoiled git to me."
As she'd talked, the attractive blonde's face did that smirking thing again, so that by the time she'd finished, there was a gleam in his eyes now to go with the roguish grin. "Think I'm handsome, do you?" He chuckled. "Well, at least your taste in men has improved along with your wardrobe."
She dropped her ceramic cup onto its matching saucer a little too hard, making them clink loudly together – which was fine, as the sound masked her teeth clanging fiercely together in her head. "Is that all you heard I said, Malfoy? Gah! You are the vainest creature on the planet! You make Veela look positively humble by comparison!"
He stood up abruptly and reached over, grabbing her guides out from under her arms with his right hand. "Come on, Granger, let's go have some fun!" Reaching down with his free hand, he took her small wrist in between his (warm!) fingers and pulled her to her feet effortlessly before she could launch a sound in protest. She was suddenly pressed forehead-to-chest against Draco Malfoy, her hands automatically seeking purchase on his hips to steady her balance. She stood frozen for several seconds in shock, her mind having shut down at this unexpected, most intimate touching of her oldest rival. In those moments, all she could think about was that his cologne – a sharp, oriental, woodsy fragrance – smelled so utterly alluring. The total experience of being held so close to him made her insides turn upside down.
She felt the abrupt shift in the magical energies they both gave off; a definite, sexually charged moment passed between them. It was very uncomfortable. Pushing away in a near panic, she almost stumbled backwards over her chair, except Malfoy yanked back on the arm that he'd never let go of and stabilized her instantly. He stepped into her personal space again. "Live a little, Granger," he coaxed, his low voice honey smooth. "I'll show you things you've only dreamed about."
Why was her heart suddenly thumping about in her throat, trying to escape at maximum velocity? This was Draco bloodyMalfoy – the guy she hated (okay, well, maybe not hated, as that was a strong word which she reserved only for the truly evil, like Voldemort; it was more like she disliked, disapproved of, and disfavored Malfoy overall)! Given that, why would she suddenly be reacting to his presence in this fashion? She'd felt the tightening in her nipples and her womb when his aura had lightly touched hers. She hadn't experienced that with a man… well, ever, truth be told (she'd loved Ron, but they were never hot for each other in the 'tear your clothes off and fuck like crazy against the wall' sort of chemical attraction. It was more a gentle, fumbling kind of sex between them).
She felt Malfoy caress his magical energies against hers again, and she shivered in response, clamping her knees together and gritting her jaw against the sensation. "Whatever it is you're doing, stop it," she breathed, refusing to look him in the eye. "It's… uncomfortable."
The fingers around her wrist tightened again, and this time his thumb began slowly stroking the inside sensitive flesh, just above her pulse. "I'm not doing anything, Granger," he vowed, then leaned his face down to her right ear, hovering his lips right above the lobe. "I can't help that you want me."
Anger and shame flooded through her and she jerked her arm out of his grasp, and then grabbed her guide books back out of his hand. "You wish," she spat, then gathered her bag, threw some Euros down on the table, and backed away. "I'm not the one who sat down at the table today uninvited," she reminded him, then turned on her heel and stalked angrily away. By the time she'd reached the end of the block where Rue de Sablonville met Rue de Commandant Pilot, he'd caught up to her.
"Okay, so I did go looking for you around the hotel and conference center, I admit," he confessed, shoving his hands in his pockets, a boyish, troublemaking smile plastered to his (handsome!) face.
She huffed and stepped off the curb after making sure the traffic was pedestrian manageable. "And why would you do that?" she demanded, irritated that the guy couldn't take the hint and get lost. "I don't recall us ever being good enough friends to make me want to hang out with you for any length of time."
He chuckled, easily matching her increased speed with his longer stride as they continued down the street and cut through the parking area of Neuilly Stationnnement. "True, we're not friends. But you're definitely not boring, either, Granger."
She sniffed, but didn't reply as they made their way towards Rue Madeleine Michelis, where she stopped in at the Thierry Mugler Parfumes shop. She'd wanted to pick out a fragrance for her mother and Ginny to owl back as presents. Malfoy, strangely enough, continued to stay at her side like an unwanted stray, not in the least bit bothered by being in a perfumery or shopping. It was actually quite fortunate that he'd come along, as it turned out, because he spoke flawless French to the sales woman behind the counter, and was able to negotiate the language barrier for Hermione.
After an overly dramatic sales pitch, including clouding her senses with fragrances for the better part of half an hour, Hermione finally chose Angel Violet for Ginny (she loved the goth looking bottle) and Mirror Mirror for her more conservative mother, Eleanor. As the sales woman packaged up her purchases, Malfoy sauntered over carrying a weird purple glass bottle etched with gold decoration. "Try this on," he offered, grabbing and holding up her wrist (which had been washed with warm water and cleaned up by the sales woman to clear it of the combined scents she'd tried on earlier). He spritzed the perfume in the air, and brought her skin into the mist, letting it absorb the fragrance, then set the bottle down on the counter and waited a few seconds for it to breathe and dry. Then, he brought her arm to his nose, closing his eyes, and inhaled deeply.
Again, Hermione felt that strange caress against her magical spirit that caused her body to flush with desire. She trembled unwittingly and tugged against her arm, to no avail. Malfoy's eyes opened to half-mast and the look he gave her was scorching. There was no denying what he was thinking in that moment. He stepped into her once more. "I think this scent was made for you," he informed her, nuzzling his nose against her artery, hovering his lips over her wrist, watching her the whole time.
The woman behind the counter, seeing a potential for more sales, stepped forward and explained something in French to them. Hermione, whose eyes had been glued to what Draco was doing to her, only half noted the woman's presence. "What… did she say?" she asked, hearing the weakness in her tone and hating herself for it.
Malfoy's free hand came up to stroke the inside of her bared forearm as he sniffed again. "She says this is a new fragrance called 'Alien,' and it has notes of Jasmine sambac, cashmeran, vanilla and transparent amber. Personally, I think it's just sexy on you."
Hermione swallowed nervously. "Let go," she requested softly, tugging her arm again, trying to keep the shaking out of her voice. "Please." Everything inside of her was rioting out of control. Nothing about this situation was right. This was Malfoy she was suddenly wet between the legs for! No, she absolutely couldn't be attracted to someone like him! He was… he was… an arsehole, that's what he was!
She managed to extricate herself from his hold, grabbed up her pre-paid purchases with a quick, "Merci," and left the shop as fast as her legs could move without embarrassing herself by running.
She made it all the way to her hotel's lobby – the Neuilly Park Hotel – and had hit the button on the elevator for her floor when Malfoy appeared at her side, a package in his hand. The lift doors opened, and he grabbed her, pulling her in after him. As soon as they shut, and she'd hit the appropriate button, he turned on her and shoved her against the back wall, kissing her hard with a passion that burned her up.
No, this was... She couldn't... He was... They...
She whimpered once before giving in, returning his kiss with equal ardor. It was a breath-stealing moment that changed everything.
"Got your key?" he growled against her lips, hungrily diving in again and hardly giving her time to reply.
"Yes," she gasped, reaching into her front jean pocket and pulling it out.
He tongued her fiercely. "Good. Which room?"
The doors opened and she pulled him after her. They kissed all the way down the hall, hardly separating, even when she put her key card in the door and yanked the handle open. Even before the door shut behind them, locking back into place, they had dropped everything in their hands without care onto the carpeted floor, and were beginning to tear each other's clothes off. "Love your glasses, Granger, but lose 'em," he commanded as he bent to her neck and bit over her pulse.
She grasped, reached up and carefully took her lenses off, placing them on the room's dresser top. Then they got back to the business of stripping. "I can't… believe I'm… doing this," she murmured in between kisses. "I've never… I mean… I don't do this sort of thing!"
Draco's fingers undid her bra with a practiced ease, tossing it to the floor, and he bent his head to take in one of her nipples. "You do now. Gods!" he gasped, nipping and biting and tugging on her rosy buds. "Granger, you're… you're beautiful."
He ate at them, too, even as his hands moved to the button and zipper of her jeans.
"Take these off," he requested in a panting voice. "I want at every inch of your skin."
Lost in a haze of seduction, a part of Hermione that had been asleep and too long denied rose up, and suddenly, she became as aggressive as Malfoy. She reached for his belt and pulled it free. "You, too."
They both yanked, pulled, and maneuvered until finally, shoes, socks, and pants were out of the way.
Then, Draco laid her back on her bed. "I'm going to lick your pretty cunt until you come all over my face." He tugged her knickers off her hips and down her legs, moving with them. "And you're going to let me."
She eagerly nodded. "Okay."
He tongued his way slowly down her body, torturing her with tiny nips and kisses as he went. When he dipped his face between her legs, he did magical things to her clit that had her seeing stars.
Overwhelmed by the pleasure, Hermione entwined her hands in his silky, soft hair and encouraged him with small thrusts of her hips against his mouth. "Oh, God, yes!" she moaned as his tongue writhed through her slick sex. "Don't stop, I'm so close!"
Draco hummed in approval, and the sound vibrated through her core. It sent her reeling over the edge. Her knees bent of their own accord as she exploded in a burst of white light behind her eyelids, crying out his name.
Groaning, he lapped up her response, smearing it across his mouth and cheeks and chin, reveling in it. One of his hands reached up and he entwined their fingers as he continued licking up her wet pussy.
As she came down, her body humming with satisfaction, Hermione decided she wanted to give a little back to the man who had given her so much pleasure. "Your turn," she informed him.
He glanced up, clearly shocked by her offer, as if not many of his lovers ever considered his gratification as a priority. Guiding him over onto his back, she straddled his hips, rubbing her dampness all over his straining length. "Just lie back and enjoy it."
Malfoy's face was transformed by a much-more familiar smirk. "I knew you'd be bossy in bed, Granger."
She reached down, adjusting her hips to give her some room to work, and took him in hand. He was long and thick, filling her palm and then some. "That's right, Malfoy, I'm the boss right now," she said, pretending to be a sultry temptress, feeling rather powerful and sexy at the moment. "And I want to make you feel as good as you just made me feel. You're going to let me return the favor now."
Anticipating her plans, he licked his lips. "You don't have to, you know."
"I know. I want to."
Lowering her mouth to his nipples, she took one into her mouth and sucked and licked it as he had hers. He gasped in pleasure, and ran his hands through her curly hair, tangling it up in his fingers. "A little harder," he requested. She complied, and he moaned in ecstasy.
When she pulled back to admire her work, she knew he was going to have a love mark for at least a week. For some reason, she felt a little smug about that.
Dipping her head lower, she tongued his bellybutton and as she did, she began lightly stroking his cock to a slow, steady rhythm.
"Bloody hell," he hissed as she lightly raked her nails down the underside of him. "Oh, fuck, do that again!"
Lowering her head, she did as he asked at the same time as she stretched her lips over his crown and gave him a good, hard suck of his head.
"FUCK!" he shouted, thrusting his hips, and his cock slid deep into her mouth.
She held him there, licking around his length, sucking hard on him, before gently letting him go and pulling her head back. When he popped out of her mouth, she had his sac in her palm and his taste in her mouth. She looked up at him and they locked gazes.
"Can you take it all?" he asked.
It was a dare, and if there was one thing Hermione Granger responded well to, it was a challenge.
Dropping her mouth back down onto him, she relaxed her jaw and let him all the way in, until he was in her throat and she was tightening it around him on a swallow.
"Oh my fucking god," he swore, shuddering. "Who'd have guessed your mouth was as perfect as your mind?"
The words gave Hermione a strange thrill. No one had ever said she was accomplished at any sort of sex act before, and she wanted to reward Draco for that compliment. She put everything she had into giving him the blow of his life, teasing him with her hands, her lips, and her tongue. She even included her teeth into the mix a few times, but only very lightly and then, only to tease him.
Soon, Draco was red-faced and panting. His eyes looked glassy, as if he was overdosing on the pleasure she gave him. "Stop, or I'll come," he warned, and pulled her away. With a tug, he had her angling back up towards his mouth. "I want to be in you for that the first time."
She wanted it, too. There was something naturally sexy about having a man's first release be inside a woman's body.
His naughty fingers found her pussy soaking wet once more when they began fucking into her. "Do you want me now?" he asked, nipping at her lips as he coaxed her. "Say you want me to fuck you, Granger."
Grabbing his hard shaft in one hand, she lifted her hips to slip his fingers from her, and then guided him to her opening. They both gasped as he entered her and as she slid down his length, uniting their bodies at last. "Say you want me to fuck you, Malfoy," she countered, tending her inner muscles around him.
He chuckled. "I've wanted you to fuck me since fourth year, when I saw you in that pretty, little purple dress at the Yule Ball."
She sat fully upon him, wincing at how he stretched her out almost to the point of discomfort. He was so big and thick! "It was periwinkle, actually."
His hands maintained a grip on her hips as she squirmed atop him, adjusting to his size. He watched her move on him. "Granger, only you could correct me at a time like this." He reached up and stroked her cheek gently. "Now, shut up and fuck me already, woman."
They moved together in perfect rhythm, with a tension that was just right to bringing them together rather quickly. Grabbing a hold of her and pulling her down on top of him, Draco rolled her onto her back with a smooth move and then hovered over, readjusting his hips for the standard missionary position instead. He slowed them down. "Not yet," he told her, the muscles in his arms rippling as he held his weigh up on the palms of his hands and moved his lower abs with each jerk of his hips. "I've waited a long time for you. We're going to enjoy this." The grin was back.
He took her in one position after another and at a variety of paces – switching every so many minutes, building her up to the edge of bliss, only to pull back and reset them both. It was torture and rapture at both the same time. First he took her slowly while leaning over her, then he tugged her up into a sitting position and repositioned her over his lap, bouncing her up and down with gusto, then he pulled out, turned her around and drove into her with fierce possessiveness while she was on her hands and knees. They both almost came then, and it was only by pulling out again that they were able to regain control. He flipped her onto her back, lifted one leg onto his shoulder and entered her again, kissing all down her ankle and calf as his penis drove into her again and again at a steady pace. Then, he pulled the other leg up and did the same, only this time, he was drilling into her, grabbing her waist and immobilizing her. He bent her knees back to her ears and fucked her strong, kissing her at the same time, then once again had to stop. "Too close," he shook his head. "You make me lose it fast, Granger," he huffed in amazement. He let her legs down, pulled her to the end of the bed and stood, grabbing her hips off the bed entirely and slammed into her from the unequal height.
"Do you want to come?" he asked, his breath heaving from his chest, his face as red as she knew hers to be. Hermione nodded, unable to speak her requests around her moans. In response, he slowed down again, then pushed her back into the middle of the bed and crawled over her without disconnecting their bodies. He evened himself with her face, looking down on her with a strange tenderness in his eyes, even as he cupped her cheeks and kissed her. "I think… I'm going to want to do this with you again, Granger," he said somewhat softly, as he nipped her lips. "You've bewitched me."
She smiled, feeling the heat build back up in her womb, electricity beginning to arc with every shove of his body against her clit. "Must be the perfume," she joked. "I've seduced you with my pheromones, Malfoy."
He chuckled darkly. "You did that long before today," he whispered, and then increased his strokes with powerful actions of his hips, obviously meaning to cover up the confession and deny her the ability to ask him what he meant by taking her breath away. He pounded into her, rocking the bed, making her gasp and moan wantonly. "Come for me, Hermione," he purred in her ear. "Come all over me and I'll come in you."
Frenzied for release, she grabbed his arse and pulled herself into him with equal force, wrapping her legs around his waist at the same time. "Yes, yes, Draco… I'm… oh, gods, YES!" She flew apart, her body exploding with elation and energy, a rainbow of color stars exploding behind her eyes. It was the hardest, most intense orgasm she'd ever experienced. Her soul thrilled at the feeling. Draco came in her a fraction of a second behind, and she felt his hot breath blasted across her neck as he shouted his climax against her throat. His hot semen spurted up into her; she felt the warmth coat her channel, felt her rippling, convulsing body pull him up and into her deeply as he deposited his seed with intense shudders. Her arms held him tightly to her, as his came around her at the same time and did likewise.
When it was over, they continued to hold onto each other. Malfoy, she noted, did not seem in the least inclined to let her go right away, which she thought was probably odd behavior for a man who'd been known to treat women as disposable toys (at least, according to the gossip columns). That strange awkwardness that came after having a one-nighter suddenly infused her. She'd heard Lavendar speak of this weird, apprehensive feeling in the past, but had never experienced it herself (she had, after all, only been with Ron, and no one else; sadly, their divorce had been almost two years ago and she hadn't gotten laid in all that time until today).
After several minutes, Draco finally pulled back, a contented smile on his languid eyes. Well, that was a good sign. It made some of her nervousness ease away. He smirked again, even as his fingers came up to brush hair off her forehead tenderly. "I have to admit, Granger," he drawled in that meltingly smooth-as-chocolate voice of his. "This was way better than any of my wank fantasies about you." He wiggled his eyebrows teasingly at her. "Wanna do it again?"
This oddly playful side of Draco Malfoy wasn't anything she'd expected to ever experience with him. She blinked, stalling for a moment to consider, but already knowing what the answer had to be. "I could be persuaded," she joked back. "But only if you tell me more about how long you've been wanking to ideas of me in your bed."
He snickered. "Maybe I will," he bent and kissed her lips again, and she felt him harden inside her once more. "But then again, maybe I won't. You'll have to get it out of me during a moment of weakness."
They fucked all the rest of the afternoon and evening, stopping only to order some food because Hermione was ready to faint from malnutrition. They shared dinner, then they shared dessert – all over each other – then they took a shower and screwed like mad in there, too – on the sink counter top and against the wall of the bath. She refused to let him fuck her on the toilet lid, though, drawing the line there for obvious reasons (he laughed at her for this one). He sated her so completely, that by nine o'clock, with her hair still damp, Hermione finally succumbed to sleep. The last thing she remembered was spooning with Draco, his arms about her, his face buried against her neck. "Sweet dreams, Granger," he whispered, kissing her neck, and then, she was down for the count and she slept like the dead until mid-afternoon the next day.
TO BE CONTINUED….
AUTHOR'S NOTES:
- I calculated the approximate distance between where I think Hogwarts castle would be in Scotland and Paris, France, and it is around 560 km.
- La Ville de l'Amour = French for "The City of Love," a nickname for Paris, France.
- The Neuilly Park Hotel in Paris is AMAZING. If you ever get the chance to stay here, please take my recommendation. It has 30 rooms, and everyone is decorated with a different theme. Like most hotels in Europe, the rooms are narrow and smallish (I know American hotels are huge by comparison!), but the accommodations and its distance to major attractions, plus its affordable price make this a great place to stay.