I Would Wait a Lifetime

By: Cry

Rating M:: Explicit Sexual Intercourse, Affairs/Cheating

Word count:: 5,550

Summary: Hermione married Ron straight out of Hogwarts, thought she isn't as happy as she always pictured herself. At 20 years old, she begins working for Draco as his personal assistant. What happens when they can get along and realize they both feed each other's needs? Jealous spouse's aggressiveness drives these two together for comfort. Is it really so wrong to feel so right?

Disclaimer:: I have never, nor will I ever, own Harry Potter. Everything you recognize belongs to J.K. Rowling. I made no money off this and it's for pure fun. Don't sue.

It was getting close to four in the morning. I stretched, stirring the owner of the arm that was currently draped over my mid-section. I was successfully pinned to his form, the heat from his naked chest was comforting; yet my heart was cold. I would have to leave soon.

He knew it as well as I did, though he never put up a fight; no matter how much he wanted to do just that. I would get up and dressed like usual. He would watch me walk out his bedroom door and then turn over and go back to sleep. We both knew it was futile to pretend it would work out permanently. We found our routine easily, fueled by unfulfilled wants and needs.

He kept it simple. I liked it that way. He wasn't clingy. He wasn't over bearing. He wasn't fussy. It made it easy for me to switch between what I had and what I got two weekends a month. Ron would be furious; beside himself with anger. I knew it was wrong too. But how the hell do you turn away someone who knows just the right moves to make you writhe and scream?

Ron couldn't do that. He wouldn't do what I needed. He focused solely on his needs and ignored mine. I honestly think I could leave a blow up doll in the bed and he would be just as satisfied. He never asks me if I'm enjoying it, or what I would like him to do. It's always his way and then sleep. That's how I found myself here, in his arms.

"You're thinking about him again." The sleepy voice was neither accusing nor questioning, it was simply stating a fact. But, I couldn't help but notice the venom that seeped through his voice when he talked about my husband. He may have avoided physical symptoms of jealousy, but when we were together I was all his; he knew when I was thinking about Ron. He never got angry with me, but he didn't want me thinking about the other man in my life while in his bed. His arms held me closer to his chest, his lips close to my ear.

I didn't reply. I didn't need to. We had an understanding of sorts. He just knows. It was partly this reason I was drawn to him.

"Love, it's almost time," I whispered.

A discontent groan, lips on my neck leaving light, nipping kisses; He didn't want me to go. Hell, I didn't want to go; but we knew I had to. I would come back. I always did. Every other weekend I stayed in a hotel with him, using my job to get away from home; it wasn't exactly a lie, just a stretched truth.

I was Draco Malfoy's personal assistant, have been for the last eight years of my life. I kept up with his appointments, I organized his schedule. Really, I kept him functioning on a punctual schedule. Every other week Draco would leave the town to travel across the UK to his many branches, sometimes even to various larger cities in America, Canada, and Australia. We would leave early Friday morning and return Sunday night where we would spend a final night together until our next out of town excursion; I returned to my family every Monday at about seven in the morning.

It wasn't like that for the six years; but even with the changes we implemented, no one was any the wiser to our arrangement. Ron firmly believed that Draco paid for a separate room for me; and in the beginning, Draco actually did. But we slowly realized that while we were a far deal away from being best friends, sharing a room wouldn't kill us and it was stupid to waste money like that. Granted, Draco had assured me that money was no object and if I'd rather have my own room, I was more than welcome to ask for it. But I obviously refused. I, Hermione Jean Granger, would not waste money. I trusted myself and Draco enough to respect my wedding vows.

The first year working with him was easy. We didn't have many arguments; though when there were arguments, it was awful. When our time was free of those spats, it was spent in silence mostly; unless I was ranting off his itinerary for him. The second year was much less guarded. We were comfortable in the same room and we made small talk. We even managed to find a rhythm that allowed our work to flow smoothly and the arguments pretty much vanished without a trace. The third year was slightly awkward. He had gotten married to Astoria Greengrass. She was a pretty little twit with shit for brains, and she had jealousy seeping out of her in every which direction; naturally I wasn't much in her good graces. Draco wasn't keen on his wife telling him what to do, especially when having me around meant his job would go smoother; this, of course, meant more money in which he could afford to spoil his wife with.

The fourth year Draco really opened up. He was miserable at home; Astoria had seen to that. She bothered him about me every waking moment and he needed to vent his stress. I listened attentively, and told him about Ron's blinding jealousy. Why couldn't our spouses be happy? We were gone a lot with work, but we were faithful to our significant others; though, sharing one room would be a secret we'd take to our graves—after all, we had our own individual beds.

By the time the fifth year was rolling around, we were closer. We still weren't best friends, we never would be, but we earned a mutual respect for each other. We knew what the other was feeling when we went home to our jealous, suspicious spouses. That year in particular, I had a huge fight with Ron on the phone—yes, he did eventually learn the proper way to use one after Harry and I beat it in to him fifty times over. It was rather embarrassing for Ron to do that right where Draco could hear it. He heard every word Ron said, though he acted as if nothing was said. He even granted me the respect of turning away when I broke down after hanging up; even he knew I didn't want anyone to see me cry.

But that was the night this started to snowball out of control. I still question "why" to this day. I crawled in bed that night, tears forbidding me from falling asleep. How could one sleep when she was breaking down because of her failing marriage? I must have been keeping Draco up with my sobs, though I swear I tried to hush them. It could have been pity, it could have been guilt, or it could even be a way to comfort himself with his own marital issues. Whatever that motivator was, it got him to crawl into my bed near two-thirty in the morning.

I remember it being nothing but a safe, warming comfort. He was wearing nothing but his loose pajama pants; and I, a long t-shirt and panties. He pulled me into his embrace and just held me close. His hand stroked my hair soothingly; the same way my mother used to when I had a long or painful day. I remember the warmth of his body; in the cool of the crisp, late-autumn nights, beckoned to me. I let myself hold tight, my finger nails lightly drawing lazy circles in the middle of his back.

It had more of a reaction than I meant to get out of him, but if he knew it was trying to come up, he did a damn good job of pretending it wasn't. He had no modesty or shame; he had proven this the many times he ever so nonchalantly walked from the shower, naked as the day he was born, to his suitcase across the room. But even being aroused, he never moved us to an uncompromising position.

Draco put his lips close to my ear, his warm breath tickling me and sending goose bumps racing down my arms and torso. When he spoke, his voice heavy with several male ailments, I shivered. "Don't let him treat you so horribly." His voice was gruff, roughed up by his conflict of arousal and self control. I can honestly say that Ron never used that sort of voice with me; it sent a long-forgotten, but all too well known, feeling in the lower region of my abdomen.

"I appreciate the words, Draco. However, as I recall it, your wife is quite the same way." It stung, but it was the truth. Maybe Draco just wanted one of us to be in a healthy relationship? Since it wasn't him, perhaps he was hoping mine would be.

That night—and every night thereafter, Draco stayed in my bed. He let me cry into his shoulder, he rubbed my back and stroked my hair. He told me things that his horrible wife had done.

Naturally, after that first same bed night, I was slightly embarrassed and wore pajama pants and a larger t-shirt to bed. I knew Draco had excellent self control, but why test his control by purposefully taunting. I'm not sure whether he approved or disapproved of my attire change, but perhaps he'd noticed this.

It only took a year of that for things to go too far. One night, the sixth year of me working with him, Draco had been royally pissed. His fight that morning was still bothering him. I remembered it clearly. I had floo'd to his manor, my planner out and rushing around behind him while he finished getting ready. Astoria then grabbed his wrist and pulled him to the bed, all right in front of me.

"Draco! Why is she in our house all the time? Why do you go on business trips with her all the time?"

"Astoria, I told you. Hermione is my assistant. She is the sole reason I'm able to be at home as often as I am. You should be grateful."

"Grateful that you're sleeping with a mudblood every other week? Draco, I will not accept this! Either you stay this weekend and she gets out now, or we're divorcing!" She shrieked it out. She was aggravated, but her arguments were nothing more than those of a spoiled child. After all, that's what she was right?

"Then we'll take the fucking divorce! I have better things to do than to waste my time on some woman with severe insecurities! I haven't slept with Hermione once in the entire time she's been working for me. I don't have time to try and earn your trust when I've done nothing to lose it." Draco's voice got dangerously low, his piercing metallic eyes staring into Astoria's own dark pair. "You have until Sunday morning to be completely removed from this manor." He released himself from her grasp and grabbed his suitcase. Together, we apparated to our destination.

That night, we didn't get a double room; we'd gotten a single double-sized bed, since we had been using the same one regardless. He had already been in the bed when I had climbed in after brushing my teeth. I remember that night I had worn my large T-shirt to bed, a pair of short shorts under it. Draco lifted the covers for me to climb under; I welcomed the warmth that the heavy quilts had, but his body drew me in, my back to his chest.

His arms wrapped around me tightly, his face in my hair. Draco held me closer to him that night than he ever had before, allowing no space between us. We spent a few moments in silence before I spoke.

"Draco… I'm sorry. It's my fault that your marriage is failing. I don't think its right for you two to divorce over this." Draco didn't say anything, but I could feel his arms flex as he held me; almost as if he were afraid I were leaving. "I think I should find a replacement for me then resign." It was just a whisper, but it spoke volumes to him.

He didn't speak still, but his lips had found my neck; his teeth were allowed to nip, his tongue caressed, and his lips sucked down. I'm sure there would be marks. Oh, Dear Merlin! It was actually happening. After six years, the walls had broken down. Draco gave in to his innermost wants. I wasn't as easily swayed though. I started to pull away, but he spoke then.

"It isn't, nor would it ever be, your fault, Hermione." His warm breath heated my skin in a sensation all too new to me. He came up and he nipped on my ear, his hands journeyed up and down my sides. I was paralyzed. His touch was so comforting, so sensual, and I found myself getting rather flustered; yet my mind was screaming at my body to stop this, to protect my wedding vows. "It's always going to be my fault." His whisper was rugged, his teeth dragging down my neck to a sharp-yet highly arousing-bite at the base of my neck. "I'm not a good person. Hell, I'm not even a decent person. My marriage failed and even though I have had countless chances to rectify it easily by firing you, I can't bring myself to fire you over that spoiled witch." He seemed to be talking more to himself. "I can't do my job without you. You're perfect for this job and we work well together. Don't leave me, Hermione, not because of her." It wasn't a plea, but it wasn't a command. It was again, him speaking out.

How could I leave him to do this on his own? I was his assistant, and because I followed him everywhere doing my job, his wife left him. I felt obligated to stay as his assistant, but that didn't mean I should allow him to fuck me, right?

Oh Merlin, here comes the teeth again. My shirt had managed to make its way up to the underside of my breasts. Fuck! I knew I should wear bras in bed with him. His hands were raking lightly down my sides. Unfortunately, my body seemed to have a mind of its own and it sure as hell wanted Draco to know how much it appreciated his touch. It didn't help that the small moan that managed to escape my lips gave him more encouragement than my brain wanted.

Draco turned me over to face him; his lips traced my jaw line up to my chin, ever so slowly they reached their destination on my lips. He was giving me permission to back out. The path he took was more than obvious what he was planning; but even still, I didn't push him away. I only welcomed him into my waiting lips.

Yes, my brain screamed at me. It reminded me of my child that had just been born, my loving—though selfish—husband, my family and friends, my parents, my own self. This wasn't Hermione. This wasn't the Hermione that went to Hogwarts and hated Draco. This wasn't the Hermione that never let her emotions cloud her rather strong sense of self-control. I wasn't me anymore. Draco, with his feathery kisses and tantalizing nips, had set free the starved beast in me.

He broke our kiss for some much needed oxygen, leaning down and kissing my naval. He worked his way up, kissing, nipping, and licking a light trail to the underside of my breasts. I wasn't generously endowed, but I was no board either; no matter how you classified me, when Draco lifted my shirt past them, he took a longing moment to memorize them before devouring my right nipple in his mouth. He teased it, squeezed it, licked it, and flicked it; each move made on my sensitive bud elicited a gasp or moan from my lips. He relinquished my right from his mouth, only to give the same torture to my left. He pulled my shirt the rest of the way above my head then kissed me again as his hands gently kneaded my breasts.

He pulled me on top of him, my shorts-clad groin straddling his pajama pants-clad erection. I could feel it through all our layers. I always felt it when we slept together, all these years. But this time I was focusing on it. His beautiful eyes were lit up with the moonlight shining in; just a sliver of molten silver showed around the dilated pupils. I rolled my groin, causing a hiss of pleasure from him. I raked my nails down his toned, chiseled chest. It had been years since Hogwarts, but I'm sure he still plays quidditch with his friends to stay fit. I pressed light kisses and licks to his pelvic bone lines, an area I have always been particularly fond of on the male anatomy. He inhaled shakily as he tangled his fingers in my hair, and then ever so gently pulled me up to meet his lips, my legs still straddling his hips.

He rolled us over, his throbbing member pressing hard into my heated center. His tongued traced a gentle line along my lower lip, and then I felt it get abducted between his teeth. I rolled my groin again, earning a growl from my bedmate. He pulled back and pulled my shorts and panties off in one swift movement. He dove in, taking my clitoris within his lips. I squealed with surprise, but it was quickly replaced with many small moans and gasps escaping my lips as I ran my hands through his silky, though slightly disturbed from our current actions, hair.

I felt his tongue trace down to the bottom of my moist slit and in a slow, teasing motion he moved his tongue to the top, dragging my slick juices along and circling around my bundle of nerves.

"Ohh… Please, Draco…" I didn't exactly know what I was pleading for, whether I wanted him to stop, or to make me cum harder than I had in my life. The latter wouldn't be hard to achieve; aside from many nights with my fingers exploring, I've only experienced things with Ron. Even then, the sex was so boring, fast, and routine that I got no satisfaction out of it. Draco seemed to answer for me though, his tongue delving deep into my wet and ready hole. He used his thumb to continue the assault on my clit while his tongue fucked my soaking pussy. His tongue flicked that one spot, the reaction was instantaneous; my hips thrust to his face wildly, as if on their own, beckoning him to push me over that peak he'd brought me to.

Draco seemed content to lead me over. He pinched my clitoris, and sucked hard as his tongue hit that spot over and over again. With that he undid me. I came violently, my body going rigid and my pert nipples hardening almost painfully. I relished the feel as wave after wave of pleasure flushed over me, my hips jerking as I rode out my orgasm on his tongue. I drifted down from my high, squirming slightly as Draco contentedly lapped at my cum, his eyes never leaving my face.

"Fuck, Hermione." Draco came up to me, smiling as my breasts rose and fell with my harsh breathing. "When was the last time Weasley got you off?" He only meant it as a joke. He pulled me close to him, kissing me with a passion that was deep and needing. I could taste myself on his tongue and the thought that he hungrily devoured my drenched pussy turned me more than anything Ron had ever done.

"He never has." I was quite, breathless, and beside myself with a renewed fervor. Draco simply drove me mad; it was like hanging a big juicy, still raw steak in front of a hungry tigress. I wanted more, which seemed to show because Draco didn't back down from his touches.

"He's never gone down on you?"

"Never."

"Bugger is missing out. Your cunt tastes amazing." Draco pulled me to him again, attacking my swollen lips with his own. I reached down, gently stroking Draco from outside his pajama bottoms.

"You sure?" Draco was still touching me, his left hand index finger lazily tracing circles around my clit while his right cupped my right breast. He didn't ask in a concerned manner, more like an I-won't-be-able-to-stop manner. I found it touching that he cared enough to give me that chance; but Draco pleased me, showered me with attention, he ignored his own raging hard-on to get me off. Marriage vows be damned, tonight was going to be for me.

With a quick contraceptive spell, Draco was under me, swallowed whole by my slick, dripping sex. He growled, pleased with finally being inside me. I rocked a little, teasing him. He hissed his desire as his hands gripped my hips and lifted me, slamming me down onto his cock.

I loved it. The sensation was one of the most amazing I have ever felt. Draco filled me up, stretching my pussy out; Ron wasn't small, but next to Draco, Ron would look like a prepubescent boy. He moved me on top of him in the rhythm he wanted, and once set, his hands gripped my breasts.

"Fuck…Hermione, you're so… tight." He groaned as my walls squeezed him. "I can't take it…" He stopped me, much to my disdain. But he quickly amended the pause by flipping us over and slamming into me. "I'm sorry, Hermione… Just this once… After this, I will let you choose how you want it, whenever you want it; but please… allow me this one?" Draco's eyes were squeezed closed as he fought to keep from ramming me deep.

What was it about his desperation that made me so hot? I always thought I'd be the type to love the slow, romantic love making; but this desperate, lustful desire he had to pound into me brought me near another orgasm. I fought to hold it back, but when I clamped down on his cock and he bit my collar bone, I came again… and hard. He looked like my orgasm was almost too much, but he slowly rode it out. He was still waiting for me to answer.

I screamed in the throes of my orgasm. "YES! MERLIN, YES! Pound into my pussy!" I arched my back, my whole body shaking and Draco wasted no hesitation. I felt the slow withdrawal then the fulfilling pounding. Draco slammed into me over and over, using my hips for leverage. I could feel his nails digging in, which was fine. I'm sure mine were clawing away almost painfully for him.

Draco didn't last much longer, but his heavy pounding was a perfect aim every time. I quivered, my walls clamped down on him as my third and final orgasm of the night surged through me. I screamed his name out. With a shudder and some violent, uncontrolled thrusts he rode his orgasm out and emptied his seed into my awaiting love box.

"Who'd have pegged you for a screamer?" He grinned as he fell beside me, both of us breathing heavy. He pulled me into his embrace, and made me an offer I couldn't refuse. My body was too starved, too neglected, to pass up the opportunity at mind-blowing sex like that. When we returned to his manor, we saw that she was, indeed gone. Draco seemed lonely, looking around his bedroom. When I turned to leave, hoping to give him some peace, he grabbed my wrist. His eyes bore into my own, and with a simple word, I knew he needed comfort. Stay. It was the only word that escaped from his lips and it had a strange power over me. I did stay, though we just held each other.

That was the first of many times we had sex on these trips. Each weekend got less and less awkward, the new hidden relations becoming more and more right. By the end of that year, we were more than willing to have multiple goes in a night. My unfulfilled libido making up for lost times, and his need for a less needy partner seemed to work well for us and we made it a habit to explore new likes and dislikes.

The February of our seventh year, nine months after our first coupling, Draco signed his divorce papers and he was, at last, a free man. His wife had taken a sizeable amount of cash, and a good number of his vacation homes. He just waved it off. In comparison to what he had, she got away with the meager amount that the entire Weasley family owned.

We, of course, celebrated his new found freedom in his office in our hometown. It was a risky celebration, but the risks made it even more arousing; after all, it was a special occasion. His new found freedom had me envious. He never returned to dating. He said that as long as he got me two weekends every month he would be satisfied. I felt bad. I had a family AND my loveless affair with Draco. He didn't seem to mind. He didn't treat us casually, but he made no effort to make me feel there was more to this. We merely had a no strings attached sexual relationship.

He had vented every once in a while, that he was jealous about Ron touching me on the nights when I wasn't with Draco. His displeasure with me allowing that "unworthy pig" to touch my body was often shown in his eyes. I understood where he was coming from and I often asked myself why I continued to be with Ron. I kept telling myself it was for Kenzie, mine and Ron's daughter. But I knew that inside it was only because I was afraid to admit that I had already found someone better.

That's where I am today, packing up at almost four in the morning to return to my sham of a marriage. As I was pulling my pants up, Draco's naked form came up behind me, his arms snaking around me and preventing me from dressing any further.

"Hermione, please stay."

"Draco, you know I have to go home."

"No. I am saying stay with me. Make this your home, Hermione. I treat you better, I show you more love in one night than he has since we were all eleven." His chin was resting on my shoulder, his arms trapping mine at my sides in his embrace. "Let me make you happy. We can have a real family; a happy family." Draco didn't have a family. It suddenly dawned on me. He had left his wife and never gotten into the dating world again. And that was all because he was content with me. "Hermione, I want to be with you. I want to have a family with you. I'll treat Kenzie as my own. I… I love you, Hermione." He wasn't remorseful, he wasn't begging. It was simple. Neither he nor I were satisfied. I was there for him through his divorce; I had been with him, cradling his sex as if it were something I needed, all this time. Even though I had been married, I snuck behind that and had an affair.

Sweet Merlin. When did Draco have such an impact on me? I was led astray without ever being led. I followed Draco willingly, fully knowing what I was doing. Everything between us was consensual. Ron deserved someone who would be faithful to him and love him, right? I wasn't sure of my feelings for Draco, but through all this I learned that Ron was not the one for me; I just didn't love Ron like I did when we were thirteen.

"Draco…" I started to carefully word my sentence. "I don't know my feelings toward you. There's something there, but I don't want to run blindly into another relationship." I removed myself from his embrace, turning to face him. I gave him a soft kiss to the lips, "Please, wait for me to sort my feelings out, and think about all of this. There's more to consider than my own wants. Kenzie will be affected too. Wait, please?" He looked into my eyes and after another brief, but deep, kiss, he nodded and allowed me to leave.

I told Ron everything. I told him the truth from all eight years of my trips with Draco. He was visibly paler than I had ever seen him before. I was grateful I had sent Kenzie to stay with Ginny and Harry, who did not know about my excursions with Draco. He listened to everything I said, not interrupting, not tuning me out. Mostly because he knew he'd get his turn and he wanted all the ammo he could gather. When I finished with my epiphany from this morning, Ron jumped up.

"Just quit working for the bastard! If you quit working for him, I'll put this behind us and start new."

"You're missing the point, Ronald. This isn't about Draco and me; this is about you and me. I just can't stand having you not regard my feelings. And I will never quit working for Draco, so you can count that option gone." I crossed my arms in front of me indignantly. "I wouldn't have even been tempted to cheat with anyone if you weren't so lacking to my needs."

"What needs? You get sex! Every night!"

"No. YOU get sex every night. I get nothing but a quiet husband."

"What about Kenzie? You are going to force her to live with separated parents?"

"Plenty of children go through this. It'll be hard on her, but we can be civil and it will help the situation along. I promise not to bad mouth you around her and you mustn't me."

"Oh no! Your skanky ass is NOT leaving me! And your slutty cunt will never see Malfoy's dick again!" Ron's face was red with anger; almost looking as if he had spent too much time on the beach.

My next weekend to work for Draco came up far too fast. I didn't know if I actually could face him with the news I was bringing him. I didn't know how he would take it. I had seen him at work, of course; but I made it a fair point to avoid his eyes, and avoid speaking with him unless it was absolutely necessary. The hurt in his eyes was obvious; I just didn't want to chance hurting him anymore.

I floo'd to his house, and when he came around to greet me, he seemed overly surprised. I had all my bags and suitcases with me, and an envelope from the ministry to show him. Apparently, he didn't expect me to show. He came to me and I wrapped my arms around him, nervously planting a kiss to his lips. I opened the envelope and showed him the contents.

I, Ronald Weasley, and I, Hermione G. Weasley, hereby officially announce our desires to divorce. Joint custody in the case of our daughter, Kenzie, has already been worked out with her staying with Ronald Weasley every other weekend. Ronald Weasley is to keep the house and all assets purchased for the couple by the couple during the marriage. Any failure to adhere to the agreement set forth by the couple will result in an imprisonment of up to ninety days.

X. Ronald Weasley

X. Hermione Granger

APPROVED

Draco smiled over the letter then took Hermione into his arms. She had successfully left her husband. "Draco… I don't exactly have anywhere else for Kenzie or myself to go, so…"

"Of course! You're staying here! You didn't think I'd let you leave him without offering you a place to come to?" He kissed her softly.

"Draco… I've thought about it a lot. Everything we've done… Everything we've been through… Everything we've talked about and supported each other through…"

"Hermione, you don't have to—"

"I love you, too, Draco! So much! I want to be with you and eventually marry you, and have little blonde mini-yous running around! Merlin, Draco, I love you too much to not be with you. I can't possibly fathom why it took me so long to admit these feelings to myself." Draco didn't say a word. He just pulled me upstairs, into his bed.

We were three hours late getting to this weekend's visits, but I couldn't care less. Draco and I had made love for the first time as an official couple. We were happy, and by the time Sunday rolled around and we were waiting for my daughter to come home to us, I had a beautiful engagement ring on my finger. I had to wait a year to get married again, but I would wait a lifetime for Draco if I had to.

A/N::

So? How did you guys like it? It's a little long. Stretches about ten pages. I just got attacked with plot bunnies and had to write this. It's a bit of Hermione just reflecting, but its also got a lot of story to it. I love this fic. I had a lot of fun writing it, and I hope you had fun reading it.

Sorry it's a bit lengthy, and sorry, but there won't be any sequels.

REVIEWS ARE LOVE!