Oral Support by Luvscharlie
A whistle signaled the end of the match, as well as her husband's patience. Draco was out of his seat in the top box and storming toward the Cannons' changing rooms before Hermione could stop him.
"Krum!" he bellowed from the doorway.
"Draco, be sensible," she said. "Viktor's only been coaching this team for a few months and—"
"And nothing," he replied. "My father's going to have my head on a platter for convincing him to buy a losing team. Bloody fuckin' hell, where is he? Krum!" he bellowed again.
Viktor came round the corner and from the scowl on his face, Hermione felt certain now was not the time to question his abilities as a coach, much less berate him for them.
"What the bloody hell were your players doing out there on the pitch today?"
Viktor crossed his arms over his chest and scowled in a way that would have made less brave (or smarter) men cower. He clenched his fists as Draco ranted about his inept coaching and lack of skill. Hermione rushed forward and grabbed hold of Viktor's arm. "Viktor," she said, pleading with her eyes.
He turned and walked away, barking orders at his team members to clear out, and she felt certain that it had been her pleading alone that had spared her husband's pretty face from quite a bruising.
"You are an idiot," she said, turning on Draco, and dragging out each word to place emphasis on just how much of a nutter she thought him.
He turned on his heel without so much as a word to her. She heard the door of Viktor's office close with a loud bang, followed promptly by the office set aside for the owner, which Draco had taken as his own. Lucius was the true owner, but he had little interest in the team. Little interest that was until they were losing, and then he loved to rub his son's nose in their failure.
The team members cleared out quickly. None seemed eager to stick around and risk the wrath of either their coach or the acting owner. They filed past her silently in fear of drawing attention to themselves. Viktor was the last to leave, and even he did not stop to speak to her. He simply nodded his head in her direction and walked on.
She eased open the door of Draco's office and slipped inside closing it behind her with a quiet click. She crossed the room and ran her hand through his white-blond hair. He looked up at her, his face no longer angry. His brow furrowed with apprehension.
"When Father sees the Prophet tomorrow—"
She knelt between his knees and put her finger to her lips.
His upper lip curled into a sneer and he fisted his hand in her bushy hair.
She leaned forward and unfastened his trousers. He lifted his hips and allowed her slide both trousers and pants down his hips, palming his cock as it sprang free and shifting his hips to the edge of the chair to allow her better access. Hermione brushed his hand aside and took the head of his cock between her lips, never breaking eye contact as her tongue passed once, twice, thrice across the head.
His breath was audible when her lips engulfed him. Her lips and tongue worked in unison on his cock as her fingers kneaded his bullocks gently. His hips tilted and swayed in perfect harmony with her ministrations until she put her lips to the sensitive tip and hummed. It sent him reeling over the edge, as she knew it would, and she leaned back on her heels as he worked his hand back and forth in quick strokes. He cried out as he came but her lips covered his swallowing down the sound of his climax then moving up his jaw and nipping at the lobe of his ear.
"Feel better?" she whispered.
A/N: Originally written for Day 3 of the Welcome to my Nightmare Halloween Challenge on Live Journal.