DISCLAIMER:

All the Characters are rightfully owned by the mighty JK Rowling. The basic storyline - the brilliant world of magic, Hogwarts, the beauty of it all that enchants us - is all JK's property. I only own the plot to this particular thing called 'Taste'. Rest, the Characters, along with their names, houses and grades at the OWLs, belong to JK. Though, my heart happens to be a property of Tom Felton, but that is besides the point.


Warning: Adult Breastfeeding.

{This entire Oneshot is based on this theme.}


Hello.

Recently, I accidentally came across a Femslash of some fandom I have no clue about the basis of which. That particular thing gave me the theme for this one. Personally, I loathe slashesmale and female, alike.

This thing, here, has a plot that may prove out to be a heavenly turn-on for some—including myself—and may absolutely gross out some others. I'd like to confess that none of it comes from any personal experience. The fascination guys have for breasts was explained to me by my bestfriend. He even beta-d a few bits of this. Love you, Akshay! :* And certain things about pregnancy, babies, and nursing infants were cleared out by my Mum. Love her, too.

I'd planned on making it fluffy, but it turned out sensual. Either way, I like it!

Read on!


Taste

Walking down the hallway, Draco halted in his search for his wife and their baby, when he heard sounds emanating from the nursery. Draco leaned against the doorway, arms crossed against his chest, and watched as Hermione picked up their daughter from the bassinet. She cooed as their tiny princess gurgled.

He knew she was about to nurse their little one. This was going to be the first feeding since they'd returned home from the hospital, few hours ago, and seven days since Emily's birth. This pregnancy of Hermione's—after a solid five years of their marriage—had been a difficult one, and delivering little Emily had been complicated. So, it was very much justified when Hermione had passed out as soon as the childbirth-Healer had announced the safe emergence of their baby. And it was as much justified when Hermione had been frantic at holding Emily close to herself when she came back to her senses after three days. Draco had sat at her bedside, watching with fascination, not bothering with timid things such as sleep, as she held their baby.

He felt like a goddamn ruler of the world.

This was more than what he could ever have wished for. When he had found himself and Hermione back to Hogwarts, six years back—him as the new DADA professor and her as the new Potions professor—he'd never planned on going beyond being civil to her. But, quite surprisingly, he'd ended up falling in love. And so had she.

And now—here they were. The most objection being made to their relationship had been from Lucius, which he defended as being a concern about how would Hermione adjust as the daughter-in-law to a traditional, pureblood family. That was rubbish, really, because no one could disagree on Hermione Granger's determination. Potter and Ginny Potter had happily approved of them, what with Ronald Weasley's breaking her spirits down by breaking up with her, and them not expecting her to recover so well and so soon.

They got married—much to his father's chagrin, despite whatever Narcissa did to calm him down—after an year of dating. And now they were a family with even Lucius begrudgingly accepting them after the arrival of Emily in their life. The owl he had sent them two days back had been enough to alleviate Draco's anxiety, though it did nothing to curb Hermione's nerves.

Now looking at the two gorgeous females that were his life, Draco felt happier than he'd ever felt in his life. Not that his parents had ever bothered to ensure that he did. Despite his past, though, the amount of love he felt for his wife and child was inexpressible.

...Along with the amount of lust his wife could still manage to leave him spilling with.

Though, to both of their utter disappointment, her delivery had left her nether regions tender and inflammatory to touch. The Healer had provided her with a potion to use in the bath—she was prohibited showering—and had strictly warned the warm-blooded couple to refrain from any intimate touches down there for at least a month. Not that they'd gotten an opportunity, anyway. This was going to be their first night alone—outside of the confines of St. Mungo's and away from watchful eyes. But he was determined to keep himself away from her all-gorgeous pinkness that he loved.

There were other things, after all…

Draco's eyes fell to Hermione's chest as she opened her shirt, shifting Emily into the crook of her folded left arm. His breathing laboured when a beautifully rounded, puckering, pink-tipped one of Hermione's breasts came into view. The two engorged globes of pale, freckled flesh had been tempting enough for him during her pregnancy when he made love to her—worshiping them with his fingers, his mouth, and—occasionally—even his glorious family jewel that she loved so much. But now that Emily was born and Hermione's breasts had filled out in a literal sense, Draco couldn't help but allow his lusty cravings to increase tenfold.

His wife was exquisite. Draco's teeth dug into his bottom lip as his eyes traced Hermione's pink—delectable—nipple disappearing into Emily's tiny, rosebud lips and their baby starting to suckle. Hermione smiled down at the tiny bundle, making to settle herself in the lone armchair placed in the child's nursery.

And he wanted to lap up Hermione's sweet essence, badly… directly from its pink-colored source.

He was almost jealous of Emily, in spite of her being the reason why Hermione's breasts were filled with this white ambrosia. He had been, quite frankly, starved for the creamy white liquid—ever since Emily's first nursing at hospital—that dripped from Hermione's rosy nipples. He had realised that she'd begun milking somewhere along the end of the seventh month of her pregnancy.

Emily had again fallen asleep in her mother's caresses, without even feeding her fill. Hermione chuckled at the gaping, little angel of theirs, and stood up. Draco's mouth watered as he spotted the telltale white, pearly drop sticking to her pink bud. He felt his back teeth grinding to regain control as her exposed breast jiggled and swayed—teasing him to new limits.

As she moved to button up her blouse, he decided to step into the room. With half lidded eyes, he placed both of his hands on her waist and pulled her flush against him. She looked up with wide, startled eyes. Merlin. She hadn't even sensed his presence. What happened to Moody's 'constant vigilance' teachings?

Her gasp was muffled when he captured her lips in his. He grunted as their tongues touched, hauling her out of the sacred nursery if they were to indulge in dirty deeds.

"Was the bath I suggested, relaxing?" she asked. He backed her up into the wall, next to the shut door of the nursery, and pressed up against her with a content sigh.

"Jasmine oils did their job, yes," he murmured back, nuzzling her nose, "but I missed your presence—to knead the stress out of my back."

She smiled, oddly aware of the liquid leaking away from her bare breast and wettening his white, linen shirt. Her breath hitched at the realisation. He noticed; his eyes darkening to black with want.

"I watched," Draco admitted, his voice husky with lust as he left a tender kiss on Hermione's throat, "as you fed Emily."

"She has been good for the past half hour that you were gone," she whispered, "She hasn't cried at all; slept infact. I think she is exhaus—oh," her head fell back with a guttural moan as his mouth latched onto her pulse, sucking hard. She wrapped her arms around his neck, breathing ragged as she spread her legs to accommodate him.

"I wanna taste you," he spoke against her skin, a knee pressing between her legs. His hands, then, moved south from her waist to the bottom of her blouse, undoing the rest of the buttons from bottom to top. Her shirt fell open, revealing her pert breasts and still slightly rounded stomach. He growled at the sight and she flushed under his blatantly hungry stare. "Salazar, you're so fucking beautiful, Granger," his eyes roamed over her body and he licked his lips. Her mouth fell open as her breathing grew heavy, her chest heaving, breasts swaying as her own eyes darkened. "I wanna love you—make love to you…" he hesitated for a moment, then looked into Hermione's glazed eyes, tongue flicking over his lower lip. "… and taste from you." His hands traveled up her stomach and cupped her breasts gently, a corner of his mouth quirking up in his infamous Malfoy-smirk, "Yeah?"

Hermione's heart skipped a beat and her eyes widened, cheeks reddening. Draco had never expressed this particular desire before, and by Godric, they'd discovered a pretty wide range of sexual activities together. "D-do you, really?" She squeaked, her eyes fluttering shut when he pressed his knee more firmly into her heated core, and she found herself rather pissed at the stupid Healer.

He continued to pepper kisses over her collarbone as he spoke, his hot breath caressing her skin. "LIke anything," he growled, sucking at the hollow of her throat, "I desperately do." He squeezed her breasts, and a drop of milk spilled from her puffy nipple, rolling down the mound to her stomach. He quickly caught it, following the trail back up with his tongue, but stopped before he reached her peak.

Her breaths were shallow as her nails scraped against his scalp. "Yes," she said breathlessly, dragging him closer to her nipple. "Do it."

A feral growl tore through his chest as his tongue twirled around Hermione's areola before his mouth latched on and he suckled. A spark of heat erupted in her center and made her shiver with delight as Draco pressed against her nipple, nipping at the sensitive skin and sucking until he drew out a squirt of warm milk. Draco groaned around Hermione's breast, the creamy, sweet taste on his tongue making him take more of the rounded flesh into his mouth, and work even harder to garner more of the delicious liquid.

Her legs wobbled, but he caught hold of the underside of her thighs and deftly wrapped them around his narrow waist. Releasing her nipple with a pop, he sighed, "Bed?" He smirked at Hermione's frantic nod, her eyes hooded.

Draco licked his lips, lapping back the milk that had spilled over his chin, and carried Hermione to their room with one arm wrapped around her soft waist and the other palm kneading at the brunette's breasts as they walked. His lips nipped at her jaw, as milk trickled over his hand. He didn't think it was possible, but he felt like he could devour this delicious witch in his arms.

He strode through the door of their bedroom, plopping Hermione down on their queen-sized bed. He tucked his lower lip between his teeth, the sight of her heaving breasts becoming too much for him.

"Would you be mad of I ate you up?" the innocence in his tone was betrayed by the ruggedness to his whisper.

"You're insatiable." Hermione breathed.

"As if that will ever be news to you," Draco returned hoarsely as he crawled above her on hands and knees, mouth hovering over her peaks. Then he returned his mouth to her left breast, tweaking her other nipple. She screamed in ecstasy. He wrapped her legs around his waist, again, and rolled his hips into her wet center as he suckled, going crazy over her honey-sweet flavour.

"Dra-co," she mewled, rolling her hips and arching her back to further press her globes into his warm, inviting mouth. They were extremely sensitive and between his pinching fingers and nipping teeth. Arousal had Hermione writhing, wanting more.

"Draco," she moaned, feeling the contours of her husband's firm body all over her soft flesh.

"Hermione," he breathed against her heated skin, his breath hardening her soaking nipple further, and making her shudder, "You're so fucking delicious," he placed a kiss on her peaked nipple, watching white liquid trickle down the curve of her breast, "Fuck. You taste so good." He felt his own attentive member twitch at her whimper of desperation.

She whimpered. The low, hoarse murmuring against her skin as he moved to her other nipple shot firecrackers to her soaking core. He sucked and licked and nipped as he indulged himself in her wife's delicacy. "Bloody lascivious," he gritted out, his own arousal going painful by now. Hermione cried out when he squeezed her breasts very hard, causing them to squirt onto his pale face.

Draco rocked his hips, seeking relief, and she saw stars.

"Again," she pleaded, widening her legs and pulling him closer with her thighs. With a cocky grin, he obliged, surging his hips forward and grinding their crotches together.

She grabbed hold of his ass, pushing her hips against his even more, feeling every ridge of his pelvis as he moved between her legs.

"Ah, ah, princess," he gasped. "Let me be the navigator, here. You have no idea how tender that gorgeous pussy of yours has become." His biceps flexed as he braced his hands on the silken sheets, next to her milk-laden mounds, while he continued to grind against her center. His thrusts were fantastically placed between being persistent and teasing. Her inner walls fluttered with the force of them. Each long suck of his mouth on her nipple sent bouts of heat into her nether lips, before Draco pulled away to swallow and breathe. "Is the week-old mummy gonna cum for me?" he asked in a hoarse whisper as he wrapped his tongue around the nipple again. "Is my lady gonna give me her juices? Does she like it when I fuck her and feed from her peaks?"

Hermione couldn't speak, letting out only high pitched whines and mewls through her arousal. She felt the heat build to an almost unbearable level in between her legs and in her chest, her breath hitching over and over again with each pull of his lips, until she felt him bite down, and squeeze her breast mercilessly. She exploded into an orgasm.

"Gods, Draco!" She cried out, writhing beneath her husband and raking her nails across his shirt-clad back as she continued to grind her hips up, riding the surge of pleasure which drenched her pussy. He kissed her forehead, cheek, and lips, waiting patiently for Hermione to come down from her high.

"I—love you, Granger. I—love—you," he hummed between wet kisses on her breasts. "I love you—mummy Granger."

Giggling, she tilted her head, "Mummy Malfoy for little Em, yeah?" He nodded, eyes reflecting all of the love he felt for her. "I love you, too," she sighed, before twisting her body until they both laid on their sides, his palms massaging her tired breasts into relief.

"Good. Now do us a favour and go to sleep," he pressed a kiss to her forehead, but faltered when he felt her tiny palms pushing him back.

"Wait," she murmured, her eyes were fluttering with sleep, yet her voice sounded husky as she licked her lips. "It's my turn to go down."

Draco chuckled and shook his head. However much his arousal might cause him pain, he could never push this woman beyond her limits. And he had a fair idea of how much he had exhausted her, already. "No it's not," he brushed his fingertips over Hermione's rounded abdomen. "The taste you've given me today, is enough to please me through the next week."

Hermione smiled and pressed their lips together in a sweet kiss. Draco didn't push or deepen the kiss. He was almost fully certain that he was going to wake up with those same lips wrapped around a very different part of his anatomy, come morning.

Shrugging her haphazardly placed shirt away, he removed Hermione's shorts and drenched knickers, himself dressed down to his boxers, and picked up his long forgotten wand from the bedside table to cast cleaning charms on their bodies, as well as the bed covers. Then he snuggled close to his gorgeous love. Sighing, he thought of the impending visit from her fellow ex-Gryffindors, and his own parents—all of whom he'd prohibited from this cottage of theirs, till she was back in at least mental coherency.

His fingers brushed against her swollen nipples as he tucked her close. Drawing his wet finger to his mouth, he licked them clean of her delicious, sweet nectar that he was determined to taste again sometime soon. Placing a tender kiss to the back of her neck, he nuzzled her unruly hair and forgot all about the insistent throbbing straining against his boxers' silk.

"I love you, Hermione Malfoy," he breathed one last time before drifting off into a dreamless slumber.


PLEASE Review if you read. I have an experience of merely decribing rape-scene before this. Kindly tell me how do you find this one.

xoxo

Aishwarya.