AUTHOR'S NOTE: Have decided to combine this FIC CHALLENGE with another challenge issued to me by DAISYKINS. Her criteria is very similar to ROSE's, with one small addition, which you'll learn about soon (no spoilers!). Hope you like it!
CHAPTER TWO: No Such Thing As Fate
May 31, 2004 (Monday)
Hermione felt very light headed and fuzzy when she finally cracked open her eyelids. For a second, the room swam, so she shut them tightly again. She knew she hadn't consumed any alcohol, so what was the deal with the hangover migraine? She groaned and reached behind her weakly with one hand, thinking she'd encounter Malfoy's body at some point with her flailing limb. She turned over surprised to find he was gone, and by the feel of the sheets under her fingers, he'd vacated a while ago.
She listened, but did not hear him in the loo. Had he seriously sexed her almost to death yesterday only to pull a runner on her? He better not have!
Grunting in pain, she forced herself up into a sitting position. It took her ten more minutes to scramble to her feet, and then she had to pull herself along the wall to the restroom. It was when she'd splashed cold water on her face, finally, that she was able to focus. What she saw in the mirror horrified her. She was as white as a sheet, with dark circles under her eyes. Her hair was a freaking mess, and all along her body was the evidence of Draco's love making. She was covered in his love bites, the bruises purpling ugly against her tanned skin. What the hell had the man been thinking marking her all over like some teenager? Gah!
She took a shower, lingering under the hot steam for a while before washing up, and after, she felt marginally better. Dressing and replacing her glasses on her nose, she gathered her purse from the dresser… and stopped, noticing a purple glass bottle next to her wand. A small, folded note lay next to it.
Hermione's heart beat fiercely in her chest, and she hesitated touching either item. She'd seen this sort of thing in Muggle chick-flicks before: the requisite "buy off" gift to say "thanks for letting me have you, see ya." Could Malfoy be so crude? She snorted. Of course he could. He was a man slag, after all. Seriously, hadn't she just caught him a few days ago screwing some strumpet in the women's bathroom in a convention center?
Not that she could cast stones, as she'd been officially added to his "strumpet" list now, too.
Groaning in disgust and mortification, she turned away from the gift, grabbing up her wand and purse, and heading out. Right now, she needed coffee and food. Later, she'd get up the nerve to find out exactly how she'd been dumped by her one-time worst enemy.
X~~~~~~~~~~~X
She headed back down the street towards Avenue Charles de Gaulle to check out the small bistro, Durand Dupont, which she'd passed by many a time now coming and going around the hotel area. It seemed a trendy spot, and the patrons all wore smiles on their faces upon leaving, so perhaps it was worth a check. It turned out to be a brilliant idea, as the place was well-lighted, stylish, and trendy. And the brunch was amazing – a fruit bar, pastries of all kinds, a custom omelet service, twelve different types of salads (from classic Caesar to spinach with goat cheese crumbles and tomatoes to Italian pasta and three bean), and cheese and chocolate platters. Sipping her sweet cream coffee (she'd come to enjoy the flavor since coming here for the conference), she indulged her voracious appetite. By the time she'd finished, she actually felt that this was the first meal she'd had since she'd come to France where she got more than her money's worth. She was as stuffed as a ravioli.
Feeling much more human, she decided that now she was ready to face whatever let down Malfoy had prepared for her. At least yesterday would have no lasting damage, as she'd taken her anti-pregnancy potion this month, and emotionally, she hadn't been too entangled with him to start. It had been an afternoon and night of the hottest, wildest, most satisfying sex she'd ever had (that it was with Draco Malfoy was only slightly more disturbing than the fact that she'd actually given in so easily), and she knew nothing would ever compare again to her memories of their Bacchanalian "festivities," but she was determined to be fine with that. She had to be, or else she'd be really hurt for being used as a one-off. There simply was no other choice.
Back in her hotel room, she sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the bottle of perfume that he'd purchased for her yesterday (he'd been carrying a package when they'd been in the elevator, so this must be it). Her eyes roved to the right to glance once more at the note.
Right, she could do this.
Putting her wand and purse down on the bed, and adjusting her glasses (still, not a nervous gesture!), she made her way over to the dresser. Her fingers caressed the slip of the crisply folded, tented paper, palming it. Before she lost her nerve, she opened the perfume bottle and sprayed the contents onto herself. At least if she was going to feel bad, she could smell good. It was weird logic, but it went a long way towards calming her nerves.
Sitting back on the bed, toeing off her shoes and slipping her feet into a yoga Lotus position, she took a deep breath and opened the note.
Granger,
I'll be back by Wednesday. I have some business I must attend to. Don't leave without me. I promise you a trip you'll never forget.
~ Draco
A weird part of Hermione felt like crying in something akin to relief. The other part was just plain annoyed. Today was Monday. He wanted her to hang around waiting for him for two days? Who did he think she was – Pansy Parkinson, the Slag of Slytherin, who had fawned subservient all over him their entire seven years at Hogwarts? No sir, Hermione had plans to see things! Every second she wasted was time she'd never get back. She only had four weeks, for Merlin's sake, and she was insistent that she was going to enjoy every minute of this holiday even if it killed her!
Picking up her tourist guides from the day before, she started making plans for activities for the next few days. She'd lost half of today lounging about in bed already. She'd just have to make up for it by staying out late tonight and taking in one of the large flea markets around the city, called Les Puces De Paris. The ones that interested her the most were Le Marché Malassis, Le Passage, and Le Marché Vernaison, all of which contained a variety of antiques, instead of a narrow market collection. She was hoping to find at least a few witches or wizards hiding out amongst the mix, selling off items of interest, as she'd been told sometimes happened by her secretary (who had lived in Paris for years) via her return owl.
Making her decision, she headed out into the city on her first grand adventure!
X~~~~~~~~~~~X
Celebrating a day and an evening of unequivocal consumer success was turning out to be less fun than she'd anticipated, especially since she was alone and couldn't brag on her day's score. Somehow, she'd anticipated actually finding a wizard in the markets and negotiating him down on rare items to be the highlight of her Paris experience. But, it only seemed shopping was fun when you did it with someone else. Her usual partner, Ginny, was currently too pregnant to be Apparating about.
Opening her plain, brown shopping bag (a thank you gift from the wizard, who had been comically impressed by the Muggle invention), she dug out the day's lucky finds.
She planned to give the 16th century Tarot deck to Minerva, whom she had kept in close contact with throughout the years. The woman had been kind enough to allow her access to the Headmistress' personal library to research ancient laws on marriage just before she'd come here to Paris for her presentation. She knew her old professor enjoyed dabbling in the "sillier arts," as they both called Divination, so she'd probably enjoy this deck, if for nothing other than a scholar's nostalgic curiosity. Hermione caressed her fingers over the smooth, wooden planks, which had been hand-painted in Italy, thinking them quite lovely and mysterious. Minerva was sure to approve.
The moonstone talisman was for Luna. She knew her friend's love of all things shiny and mysterious, and as soon as she'd laid eyes on the item, she knew exactly whom she wanted to gift it to at Christmas. She'd just be sure to tell her rather eccentric girlfriend that the pendant had already been sterilized against Wrackspurts or Gugglies or whatever other mythological creatures were in fashion this month. Otherwise, Luna might accidentally wreck it trying to assure it was "safe" to wear.
The small, hand-carved Aventurine serpent figurine from Nepal… she wasn't really sure why she'd purchased it. It had been a compulsive buy at the time. Now as she looked at it, she felt a sinking feeling in her chest that she knew why.
She'd bought it for him, hadn't she?
Bloody hell.
So, what did that mean?
Nothing, she stubbornly insisted internally. It meant absolutely nothing. Not a single, itty, bitty, critty, gritty thing! In no way, shape or form did she fancy Draco Malfoy, and that was that! She'd bought the figurine simply as a reciprocal gesture for the perfume, so she wouldn't feel as if she owed him anything, or that she'd cheapened herself for something as minimal as a funky-shaped bottle of designer eau de toilette.
…
Okay, so that wasn't fair. Eighty Euros wasn't all that cheap a price to pay for a two ounce bottle of perfume. Besides, he'd given her the most mind-blowing, fantastic sex she'd ever had. She supposed that evened things out. So she hadn't been cheapened at all.
Right, she'd decided then – it wasn't a gift, per se, so much as it was an exchange.
She finished eating her meal by herself, and then Apparated from the women's water closet directly to her hotel room to call it an early evening. It was ten o'clock, and she was, quite truthfully, tired.
X~~~~~~~~~~~X
June 1, 2004 (Tuesday)
On Tuesday, she went to the Louvre, taking in fabulous, famous works of art that she'd only ever seen in books. Unfortunately, there was too much to see for a single day's walk-through, so she had to pick and choose which exhibits she wanted to spend time at. She focused on the Greek-Roman-Etruscan collection, the Objets d'art collection, and the Prints and Drawings collection. It was an amazing day, filled with wonder and discovery – but it was also extremely lonely. Again, she wished one of her friends was there to share this time with. Hell, by the end of the day, she was hoping even Malfoy would show up just so she could actually talk to someone about what she'd seen and experienced.
She purchased a few pieces at the gift shop, including an Iznik embroidered stole for Molly, a Muggle tie with the imprint of Van Gogh's 'Starry Night' for Arthur, and an art book on Eugene Delacroix along with a green-threaded, hand-embroidered bookmark with the Fleur de Lys symbol for… him (but only because she had paid so little for the serpent carving, and felt she needed to at least make sure the gifts were evenly priced to be fair).
That evening, she returned back to her hotel room at nine o'clock, ordered room service, ate while watching television, and then took a relaxing bubble bath before crawling into bed and seeking her rest.
X~~~~~~~~~~~~~X
June 2, 2004 (Wednesday)
On Wednesday morning, she awoke alone, much to her disappointment.
Well, what did she expect? Malfoy had said two days, but he hadn't really stated a time he could be expected to return.
Of course, she absolutely was not bothered by the fact that he wasn't there. She was just hoping he'd take her out for breakfast. After all, he'd ruined her snack the other day when he'd interrupted her from indulging in a scrumptious piece of chocolate cake, so he owed her. Fair was fair.
After washing up and getting dressed, she took herself out to breakfast at the same café she'd been sitting at three days ago when Draco had interrupted her. Ordering a pastry and a sweet cream coffee, she sat in the sunshine at the outdoor table and continued reading her tourist guides, trying to figure out what she wanted to do today.
"Good thing you're the most predictable female I know."
Yay, he was back! She wanted to jump for joy... but not because he was here, so much as she had been sorely in need of a good fight to work out the kinks in her mind (she'd been alone in her head for two whole days with no one else to converse with – a dangerous disposition for someone of her temperament). Yeah, that was all it was. Really.
She squinted up at him in the bright spring sunshine, noting his patented arrogant smirk and was decidedly irritated with him for all of it – being alone, sleeping with her and leaving, and looking at her like he owned her now. "I'm sorry, but have we met?" she inquired icily. "You look awfully familiar to me, but it's been so long, perhaps I've forgotten you."
Malfoy took the seat opposite her, and called over a waitress with an imperious wave of his hand. "You could never forget me, Granger, and you know it," he cheekily replied with that overconfident glimmer in his pale, grey eyes that she'd lov… er, hated over the years.
She faux yawned. "Oh, it's you. Yes, it's all coming back to me now. The git I loathe more than my ex."
He ordered an espresso and a pastry in flawless French from the rather young, attractive café worker, and then turned his attention back to Hermione, totally ignoring the way the other woman was so openly flirting with him. The girl left to fulfill his request with obvious disappointment. "You can't possibly loathe someone that you shag that well, princess. You marked me pretty damned good." He grinned and pointed to the area over his left nipple where she'd bitted down on him hard, leaving an impression of her dental work behind. Her parents would cringe at the thought – not that she'd bitten someone so much as worrying about how bearing down that hard could crack her enamel.
"So, where did you slither off to?" she dryly asked, placing her cup on the edge of her table in the universal sign for 'give me a freakin' refill now.'
He chuckled. "Always so polite. That's what I like about you Granger." He waited to finish as the waitress returned with his order, winking and smiling provocatively at him. Hermione frowned at how obvious the woman was, and yet Draco seemed completely oblivious. For a man with his reputation, that seemed decidedly odd behavior. The girl left again, totally ignoring Hermione's empty coffee cup. "I had to go home and do some research," he explained.
Hermione raised an eyebrow at that. "And it took you two whole days to find what you were looking for?" As an expert on the art of tomes investigation, she knew that taking so long either meant a person was not motivated, didn't know where to properly look, or that there had been too much material to sift through to pare down the answer. Knowing what she did of Malfoy – he'd been in the top ten students in their class by grade point average, even with the war's distractions – she assumed that meant that the first two assumptions were probably wrong. "Although it pains me to admit, it must have been a very rare fact-finding mission if it required a herculean effort from someone with your intelligence level."
He seemed surprised by her assessment. "Ah, so now we can add clever and brainy to 'rich, handsome, well-groomed and successful in business,'" he teased, quoting her former appraisal of his talents verbatim. Hermione huffed, amazed he could remember her words so well. Did he have one of those auditory photographic memories? "Well, at least your mind isn't as dulled out by my absence as I'd thought," he sassed, taking a bite of his apple-cinnamon muffin.
That observation hit just a little too close to home for comfort's sake, Hermione thought. Clearing her throat, trying to catch the attention of that bint of a waitress again to ask for more coffee, she homed in on their previous topic, avoiding the smarmy retort that automatically bubbled to her lips. "What was the subject you were researching? Perhaps I can help."
Malfoy took a long sip of his espresso, watching her over the rim of his cup, his steely, enigmatic eyes weighing her carefully. After he swallowed with a soft "ahhh" of pleasure at the flavor, he shook his head. "Sorry, but it's a secret."
If Hermione's eyebrows were raised any higher, they'd have to permanently be considered part of her hairline. "You seem to keep an awful lot of those." She was referring to the fact that he'd never answered her question the other day about how long he'd been having lascivious thoughts about her (he'd distracted her quite well after that question, and she'd forgotten to pursue it then).
The handsome blonde shrugged those (muscular!) shoulders of his and gave her a mysterious smile. "Slytherin in the soul," he chanted the mantra of his house.
Hermione waved off the rest of that. "Yeah, yeah. Hufflepuff at heart. Ravenclaw on the mind. Gryffindor to the bloody end. I get it. I know what your personality traits are by now, Malfoy. Clandestine deviousness is bred into you." She rolled her eyes. "It was foolish of me to even offer my help, apparently."
He downed the rest of his espresso in one pull and put the cup down on the tiny saucer. "Not foolish, just predictable - which brings us full circle in this conversation, I think."
"I am not that easily calculable," Hermione bristled.
Leaning his elbow on the table rudely, and placing his chin in his hand, he snickered. "Yes, you are. This is the exact same table you sat in the day we hooked up."
Was it? Hermione looked about, confused, and realized he was right. She hadn't even noticed that she'd unconsciously picked this exact same location. She shrugged, unconcernedly. "Coincidence, nothing more."
Malfoy took his chin off his hand and held up one finger. "Ah, but there is no such thing, according to Arithmatical rules for predicting future events. That was your best subject in school, wasn't it?"
Hermione said nothing, staring at him flatly, waiting for him to prove his point and get back on topic. She really wanted to know what he'd been researching. Solving enigmas was one of her favorite hobbies, after all.
Draco's perfectly straight, pearly teeth shown bright in the mid-morning sunlight. "According to Arithmancy, everything in the universe is a geometric formula, with the unknowns easily determined by algebraic equations. And what it all boils down, Granger, is an issue of primary numbers and their attractions to each other. Simply put, Arithmancy says we're all fated to our destinies by mathematics. Every choice we make, even sitting at this table again, is predetermined by our previous set of decisions. If A, then B. If C and D, but not E, then F." He sat back in his chair, seeming to relish showing off his right cerebral hemisphere hard at work. "Even seemingly larger, more random proceedings – like us meeting up here in Paris again after so many years, for example - have a rational pattern that lays out in a series of logical progression when analyzed." He narrowed his eyes at her and smirked wickedly, as if he'd just cornered her in some great philosophical debate. "And we all know what a big proponent of 'rationally calculated, emotionally disconnected' logic you are, don't we, Granger?"
She spurned his assertion of her character with a simple sniff and a turn of her nose in the air and focused on the argument. "That was not the point of my lecture at the conference. You never heard the rest of it. And us meeting up here again, Malfoy…"
"And shagging," he pointed out, interrupting her with a leer.
Clearing her throat and adjusting her glasses (still not nervous!), Hermione tried again. "Us meeting here in Paris can be attributed to the fact that we both had business dealings in this city. It's springtime, the time of the year when most conferences for practitioners of 'the art' are held, and this time around, they were unanimously being held in Paris. Next year, it's Rome. Meeting in that particular center was simply a matter of logistics: there isn't any other convention hall in Paris that caters to our kind. We met here as a matter of coincidence, as I said." She sniffed again, and looked about for that damned waitress. Where was she? "I may enjoy the study of Arithmancy, Malfoy, because it's challenging, but I don't take it very seriously, like Astronomy. I certainly don't rely upon it to model my concept of the world, because it doesn't determine the future so much as it predicts possibilities. People forget that higher Arithmancy also contains a Chaos Variable in the math because it can't account for the nebulous sentimentality of the human condition. It's not a perfect magical science by any means; it's little more than questionable statistics in the end, if you think about it. For that reason, I'd much rather rely upon my own hard work, planning and instincts to get me where I need to go than to leave it up to universal harmonious number crunching to tell me how to think, feel and act."
"Wow, what happened to the Hermione Granger I knew in school?" Draco seemed honestly surprised. "That girl would have been all about facts and figures. I'd have expected her to whip out a chart by now."
Hermione sighed, and shrugged. "That girl was naive." She felt the need to explain herself for some unknown reason. Perhaps it had something to do with the look in Malfoy's eye - the one that said he wanted to probe further into her psyche. She figured that she might as well get it all out, then, to spare herself twenty questions later. "When I was married to Ron, I believed in Arithmancy whole-heartedly. I thought he and I we were somehow destined to be together - that everything we did was Fate - and that alone was the reason we needed to stay married. Everyone seemed to agree, too. Ironically, it was Arithmancy that was used against me in my divorce as one of the reasons to try to force me to stay married, and it almost worked because of the way the marriage laws are on the books. So, now..." She shook her head and sighed, giving up on getting a refill. "No, I don't believe there is such thing a thing as destiny, Malfoy. Things aren'tmeant to be and people aren't fated to end up together. Maybe that sort of thing works for other races, but I don't see it for humans. We're too... random, because our choices aren't made solely on our astrological sign's compatibility, or because our primary numbers are even or odd, or even because of chemical attraction or mating hormones, but because we choose with our human hearts and minds a course of action and follow it through." She smiled, tilting her head at the surprise on his features. "Don't get me wrong - I'm all for planning and attempting to cover all eventualities, but I also realize that we humans also listen to our instincts, which are neither rational nor logical necessarily. And that's what my lecture was about at the symposium: to remind the audience that people get married because they are emotionally connected, not disconnected, as our antiquated wizarding laws reflect. For that reason, no one should be forced to stay married just because their Arithmatical numbers align, or their stars are in retrograde or whatever such nonsense our ancient forebears used as their excuse to force women into a subservant role in what should be an equal partnership."
He stared at her for a long while, peeking at her as if he was seeing a side of her he hadn't before… and perhaps that was an accurate description of the circumstances, as they'd certainly never sat and had such any sort of philosophical conversation before. They'd disliked each other from day one of their acquaintance, so why would they bother to try to get to know one another better?
"So, you chose to sleep with me then, you're saying," he asked in a soft voice. "You didn't feel… coerced?"
Hermione sniffed and shook her head. "I admit I'm attracted to you and I was out of my right mind at first, yes, but… I didn't feel as if I was being forced. I could have said no at any time if I'd really wanted to. Or I could have kicked you out of my hotel room at any time after that first go." She cleared her throat, feeling her cheeks burn up. "I suppose, that is."
"Why didn't you?" he pressed in a low-toned curiosity, clearly searching for something from her, his eyes roving her face for any indications as to the answer to an unspoken question.
She adjusted her glasses again (okay, so maybe it was a nervous thing), and looked to the side and down. "Because…" She bit her lip shyly, afraid to speak, not knowing what was going to come out for the first time ever. She took a deep breath and let her thoughts have their freedom, jumping off the proverbial cliff. "It felt right. I liked being out of control with you, even as it scared the bejeepers out of me. I guess I needed what you could give me. My life has been so... dull. Just like you said - boring. I live for work. The last time I hung out with any of my friends was ages ago. I've hermited myself away because of what Ron did to me. He dragged me through the coals trying to force me to stay with him even after I'd caught him so many times cheating. I've been gun shy about men ever since. Honestly, you're only the second man I've ever been with." Her lips twitched in embarrassment. "Our arguments - they're spontaneous and fun. And I can't really talk to anyone else like this. You're the first person I've met that I can have these sorts of discussions with." She looked at him from the sides of her eyes. "You know, I was used to you being so cruel and mean for so long, but… the realyou, deep down inside, he doesn't seem to be that way at all. At least, the part I've seen on this trip, anyway. Maybe I'm being presumptious, but I find you to be very... hot blooded, not the cold-hearted snake I'd always assumed. You're still annoying, but..." She closed her eyes, feeling a strange pang in her chest. "I wish you were like this back in school. We could have been friends. Maybe more."
There was a palpable silence between them, and in the empty space, Hermione's heart beat like a caged bird under her ribs.
Draco stood up abruptly, which caused her to jerk her head around and stare at him in surprise. He threw down some Euros on the table (where had he gotten those?), and grabbed her up into his embrace before she could react. His kiss was hot and passionate and filled with promise, and Hermione's tourist books tumbled to their feet as she let them go to grab his shirt for support as her knees quivered. The kiss felt… wonderful. She sighed into him in pleasure and allowed herself this chance. Maybe…
"Can I take you to my bed this time?" he asked softly in between kisses.
She nodded and pulled back. His mercurial eyes were practically shining in the sun. "Just let me get my things," she indicated the books at their feet. They bent together and collected her spilled items, then he held his hand out to her and waited. She stood and without a moment's hesitation, took it.
This was her decision - and it wasn't based on math, but on her heart.
They walked around to an alley that was far enough back not to attract notice, and with a wave of his wand, they side-Apparated out of Paris to… somewhere else.
X~~~~~~~~~~~~X
It was a grand bedroom in an obviously old chateaux. That much she could tell by the brief glimpse around. But her attention was drawn away by Malfoy's hands and mouth again suddenly on her. This time, they purposefully both dropped her books to the floor to the sides, seduced by their equaled desire for the other.
"Where…?" she began, as he walked backwards and led her towards a large canopied bed in the middle of the room.
"My room. Family manor," he answered in between licking and nipping her lips and neck. "Libourne."
Her shirt was up and over her head, thrown to the floor casually. His shirt followed. "Oh," was all she could answer before he took her breath away by skimming his fingers over her ribcage. "Oooooh," she moan softly as he cupped her breasts over her bra. His mouth was a fiery cage against the pulse of her throat, and there was a tiny pain as he bit her a tad too hard, but he soothed it with his tongue immediately, lapping and sucking on her flesh. His hands roamed around her back to unhook her lingerie, and skim the straps off her shoulders, leaving her torso bared to him again. Cool fingers stroked her spine from top to bottom as he continued lathering his attention on her neck for long minutes, leaving a bruise behind, no doubt. Another mark of his possession of her.
Hermione's fingers trailed over his nipples and pecks, tracing his muscles, learning every crevice and angle, enjoying his attentions at the same time. "You're so… beautiful," she hummed against his neck. "Too much." Her breath was coming in gasps now as he groaned against her vein and sucked harder. The lava in her belly traveled lower to heat up her core, causing her knickers be to soaked by a hot flush of fluid. "Oh!" she gasped, wrapping her arms about his neck and holding on, feeling her legs shaking.
Malfoy's hands grabbed her arse, pulling her tight into his erection. He began rubbing up and down against her, making love to her over their clothes. "I want you," she whispered her secrets. "More than I probably should."
He pulled his mouth from her neck finally and licked her ear. "I feel the same," he admitted in that low voice that both lulled and enticed, nuzzling her cheek with his own. "I knew you'd do this to me, Granger. I knew it." His fingers moved around to the front of her shorts, unbuttoning and unzipping them. She felt the trembling in his limbs as he pulled them and her panties down her body, falling to his knees before her. He slid her clothes off her ankles, removed her sandals, and then ran those long, pale fingers up her calves and thighs. His face followed his trail, coming to the juncture of her thighs, nudging them to beg for admittance further. She lifted her leg, placed it on his shoulder and balanced herself by gripping him tightly. It was all the invitation he needed.
Gods, he could do magical things with that tongue and those hands of his! Hermione threw her head back and gasped, moaned, keened, and finally wailed as he brought her to orgasm in no time, his mouth sucking on her clit, two fingers buried up inside her, slowly pumping away. He lapped up her juices languidly, taking his time, enjoying working her back up. When he'd had his fill, he placed a final kiss over her lower lips, then stood, working his mouth over her body as he did so. He tongued her bellybutton, traced her sternum, circled her left areola, and finally latched on. "Yes," she muttered, feeling him suckle hard.
He let her go and paused, his mouth hovering over her nipple. She could feel his trembling increase through the grip she'd maintained on his shoulders. He seemed… indecisive about something. Had he rethought them doing this – now? Seriously? Her body was teetering on the edge of throwing itself at his feet and begging him to finish what he'd started. She wanted him to shag her senseless, and yet… here he was, pausing. "What's wrong?" she asked, not liking the desperation in her quavering voice. "Have I done something?"
Draco shook his head and kissed her hard instead. "I should have asked you the other day..." He sounded trepidatious. "Are you on any birth control?"
Oh. Now it made sense. "Yes, a monthly potion. I've taken it, I promise you."
Winter itself gazed into her soul and he nodded. "Sorry to ask."
Hermione threw him a tentative smile and shook her head. "Don't be." Now she was reassuring him! How did things always get twisted up between them? Feathering her fingertips along his jaw and cheek, her smile grew as her body tightened once more with need. "Don't leave me hanging, Malfoy. I want you."
With a groan, he captured her lips, reigniting the passion between them in seconds. He kicked off his shoes, and with her help, finished undressing. She wanted to take him in her mouth again, but he was impatient. Pushing her down into the middle of his large mattress, he roughly spread her legs, and shoved his thighs under hers, causing her hips to tilt up to the correct height. "Put me in," he growled against her lips, leaning on his elbows over her. Hermione reached down between them and firmly took him in her palm, stroking once, making him shiver, and then she guided him to her opening. Pulling her hand back and steadying it on his bicep, they hovered on the brink, staring at each other for another second or two before he slowly slid that thick, long shaft into her channel.
They both gasped at the feeling of being reunited. Hermione's heart was hammering now against her breast.
"Fuck, you feel so good," Draco buzzed against her lips, finally halting as he reached the end, buried to the balls in her. He kissed her with aching gentleness, which belied his actions a moment later as he began forcefully pumping in and out of her body with long, brutal strokes. "I love fucking you, Granger," he admitted around a gasp, his breath mingling with hers as they stared into each other's eyes.
She closed her lids as the feelings fluttering through her threatened to give her away. "Yes, oh, gods… Draco… Never felt this before." Her mouth ran away with her, even as her body did, matching him thrust for thrust.
"Say my name again," he bid, increasing his pace. "Scream it when you come for me, Hermione."
Nodding in agreement was all she was capable in that moment, as the electricity began to arc through her tummy, down into her womb, igniting where they were connected. Incoherent ramblings of "yes," and "oooh," and "ahhh!" escaped her lips, encouraging him to move faster and harder. She dug her nails into his shoulders and he gasped, giving into her demands.
"Close," he warned her. "Are you?"
She shoved her clit against his cock as he slammed into her. "Yes, oh… I'm coming… I'm… DRACO!" she screamed, unable to stop herself, her body shoving him into her hard as she exploded in white heat. Her back arched off the bed as everything inside her rippled and compressed as her whole world peaked and floated above the clouds.
She came back into herself just in time to feel Malfoy tensing, ready to release… and with a shout of her name, and a series of hard thrusts, he came deep up into her moist, hot canal, discharging his life-giving seed into her with a series of powerful surges.
This had been the most profound experience of Hermione's life – more than her first kiss to Viktor Krum, more than losing her virginity to Ron, more than that moment when she'd witnessed Harry defeat the Dark Lord, more than her wedding day or the subsequent divorce grant by the Ministry judge, more than the moment she'd stood in front of an audience in Paris and asked them to overturn the laws on marriage that affected women's rights during an annulment because the laws were unfeeling and unfair to the female gender. It was even more powerful than the first time she'd made love to Draco Malfoy. This moment, right here and now… this was a turning point in her life. She felt things click into place in her mind, aligning up in her soul.
She felt a true sense of personal destiny - that which she had denied fervently not an hour ago - sweep her up in its arms for the first time in her life.
"Oh, Godric," she whispered and began crying inexplicably. Draco said nothing, simply held her, his body still locked into place with hers, his face pressed into her shoulder. For some reason, it almost seemed like he understood.
Long, long minutes later, when her tears finally bathed away, she rubbed a shaky hand over her cheek and nose. "I'm sorry…" she awkwardly apologized, not sure why she felt the need to explain herself, but knowing somehow that it was important she try. "I've never… felt that before. I've never known sex could be like this."
Malfoy sighed wearily. "Yeah," he agreed in her ear. "I know what you mean."
She blinked, surprised. Had he felt it, too? What did that mean?
He pulled back, looking down into her face, which she was sure was blotchy and probably not very attractive at the moment. Smoothing her hair away from her face and rubbing her tears away with tender touches, he gave her a sweet smile. "You've always twisted me around, Granger," he admitted with half disbelieving, half amazed chuckle. "This time, you've got me though. I think I'm really in trouble." He pressed a small kiss to her nose and then lay his forehead against hers, looking her in the eye. "You could probably bring me to my knees," he teased, then adjusted his hips. Immediately, she felt his softening member start to harden again inside her. "Speaking of which… I want you on yours now."
He pounced on her lips, making her forget all about her tremulous feelings, rekindling the flames between them. Within minutes, Hermione was lost in his expert seduction. She gave herself to him again that afternoon, before falling into an exhausted slumber in his arms, hardly noticing him pulling the duvet over them. The soft touch of his fingers playing with her curls quieted and reassured her into sleep.
X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X
She awoke while the sun was still in the sky, but clearly on its way to its twilight repose, as the light coming in through the window indicated. It was too warm, almost stiflingly so, and she realized that was because she was lying entangled in Malfoy's arms, pressed against him at every conceivable point, sharing his body heat. Pulling away slightly, she had to work his arms off her as he kept tightening up and tugging her back in his sleep unconsciously. When she'd finally extricated herself, she stood on wobbly legs, and looked about the room. There was an open door nearby, and it appeared to open into a bath. Feeling sticky and overheated, smelling of strong sex, she thought she could definitely use a shower right then.
Wincing as she walked (boy-o, was she sore!), she made her way to the bathroom, shut the door behind her and turned the shower on. After taking care of her toilet, she stepped into the tepid water with a sigh of contentment. There were two kinds of body bath available, both scented for a man – pear spice or eucalyptus and mint. She chose the former, the smell reminding her of Christmas for some reason. When her body had adjusted to the temperature and cooled down, she turned the heat on the faucet up, quickly steaming the room, and allowed the water to beat down on the back of her neck, enjoying the relaxing atmosphere.
Pale, strong hands brushed her wet hair off her shoulder, sweeping down her spine, around to her waist, up over her stomach to cup her breasts and push up, kneading and rolling. Draco's fully nude and aroused body was suddenly spooning hers from behind, and his mouth pressed to her ear at the same time, his voice causing things low to clench with desire.
"You're so beautiful, Hermione. I've wanted you for years and years, and you're finally mine."
His lips and tongue ran over the shell and down her throat to latch back over the place he'd spent so much time suckling before. Again, he pressed his teeth over the mark and there was that tiny stinging pain, followed by a rush of warmth between her legs in answer to him hitting one of her turn-on spots. Her magical aura was caressed, soothed by his own, and instead of feeling panic, she welcomed the touch, allowing her energies to explore back. Draco gasped, obviously enjoying that feel. "Witch," he hissed, pulling his mouth off of her for a second before dropping back down onto her again.
He pinched her nipples as his lips suckled lightly on her skin, drawing the tiny, rose-colored buds out and away from her body slightly, tugging to the point where it was almost pain, and then letting them go. He repeated this over and over as his penis rubbed between her cheeks from behind. His tongue lapped against her sensitive skin as his mouth latched on and drew hard pressure over her throat now. Malfoy groaned, and the vibration awoke something primal again inside Hermione's body, bringing out the temptress again.
"Come inside me," she growled. "Just like this. Do me hard." She wiggled against his cock, pressing back against him.
With a shudder, he slid one hand down between them, tipped her slightly more forward – never releasing his mouth from her shoulder crease – and brought his member in line with her body. Grabbing her hips, he shoved hard, thrusting deep. She cried out, loving the feel of being so forcefully opened up. With slow, gentle strokes, he began moving. Soon, the hand on her right hip moved around to find her clit and the fingers brushed it with great skill, working her into a frenzy of pulsating, wet need. Yet, Malfoy's body never sped up; he kept up that insanely slow rhythm, his mouth still locked on her neck.
Within minutes, Hermione had reached the precipice, and straining, moaning, shouting her pleasure, she toppled over, every muscle in her lower body clenching around his solid steel length. Her lover stilled, obviously wanting to experience her body's reaction fully. Without warning, he licked her neck once more and let go, then gripped her hips hard and started slamming into her with pent-up need. "Take it," he snarled almost animalistic in intensity. "Take me!" He exploded into her with a shout, continuing to pump his body into hers until he was fully drained.
Hermione's whole body was tingling as the warm flush of his fluids mingled with her own. The thought of his seed so deep inside thrilled her. She almost wished she hadn't taken any potion… What was happening to her? This wasn't like her to think such irresponsible things.
Malfoy leaned over her, letting her body go, sliding out of her as he started to go flaccid. He placed his palms against the wall on either side, sucking air in his heaving chest in deep pants. Too stunned to move or speak, Hermione straightened up some, but couldn't, for the life of her, make herself turn around and face him. She felt… off. Dizzy almost. Her knees knocked together and it was an effort to keep her eyes open suddenly.
When he'd regained enough control, Draco wrapped his arms about her and held her back to his chest, nuzzling his nose against her hair. "It's okay," he soothed, as if sensing her distress. "I've got you." Turning her about, he picked her up easily, holding her to him with one arm supporting her bum, the other turning the shower off. He carried her out of the shower and sat her on the vanity, then grabbed a towel from the large rack nearby and started drying her off.
With effort, Hermione looked up, narrowed her eyes to get rid of the fuzz, and frowned. "Why is there… a bit of blood on your chin?"
Draco froze. "Probably bit my lip when I came," he teased, but it was an obvious lie.
With instincts screaming that something was wrong, Hermione's fingers trailed up to her neck, touching the mark he'd been sucking on. It hurt to caress the skin. It felt raw. She pulled her fingers away and brought them to her face. Without her glasses, it was difficult to get a picture that wasn't a little blurry, but even she could see that there was nothing there. For some reason, she felt relief. For a minute there, she'd thought…
No, that was ridiculous. It must have been as Draco had said. The blood was his.
She shook her head and threw him a tired smile, yawning. "Sorry… but I'm really exhausted right now. You've sexed me to death practically."
Wrapping the towel about her, Malfoy grinned. "Yes, well, I've been known for wearing a woman or two out before," he boasted, his joke clearing the air of its former awkwardness. He gently picked her up in his arms again and brought her back into the bedroom. "Come on, I'll dry your hair with my wand and you can take another nap. I'll get one of the house elves to bring us food later."
Sleepily, she clung to him, pressing her nose into the crook of his neck, not wanting to let go once he laid her down in the bed again. "Stay with me," she purred in exhaustion, her eyes shutting of their own volition as soon as her head hit the pillow. Her last thought before the darkness took her was to wonder why Draco wasn't as tired as she was.
TO BE CONTINUED…