AN: Alright, so I've gone over & edited this chapter so many times I can't even see straight anymore. It's as good as it's going to get and if there are errors ugh I just don't care. Ok that's not true, I care, just not today, maybe tomorrow ha.
As always, thanks for reading and yes...yes...yes I am aware the whole Veela thing has been done a bajillion times, it doesn't mean I'm not enjoying myself writing it and if you're not enjoying the read then perhaps this isn't the fic for you.
*kisses*
Of Moments & Whispers
Narcissa wasn't quite sure what mayhem she had walked in too, but she was never one to shrink from a heated dispute. From her quick deductions, it seemed the tall blond wizard was furious with the irate brunette witch who was beating him about the head. She waved toward Pansy with a tight smile and took it upon herself to separate the pair before they were reduced to dueling.
Narcissa didn't draw her wand or utter a single word. Instead, she marched toward the impressively tall wizard and grasped him by his ear, and dragged him down to her level.
"Ridiculous." She hissed into his ear. He stopped struggling, his face blushing upon discovering the Malfoy matriarch glowering at him.
"She started it." He huffed, attempting to retain the smallest modicum of his dignity.
"You bastard!" Hermione lunged for him only to be restrained by a disheveled Pansy, which amused Narcissa to no end. She'd never seen the pureblood witch with a single hair out of place. "I hate him. Get him out of my building!"
"Oh now it's your building, before you didn't want a bloody thing to do with now did you?!" Cormac McLaggen shouted at Hermione forgetting for a moment his ear was still firmly grasped between Narcissa's fingertips.
With a sigh and a most uncharacteristic roll of her eyes, Narcissa flicked her wand, sending Hermione and Cormac into the plush chairs near the window. She bound them quickly, clucking her tongue at their immaturity. She ignored the sparkling bracelet decorating Hermione's wrist for the sake of her sanity. She closed her bright eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose imagining the moment she would be forced to inform Lucius.
"Thank Merlin. Those two were going to be the death of me." Pansy growled, angrily shoving her hair behind her ears and brushing the wrinkles from her robes.
Cormac opened his mouth yet Pansy was quick to Silence him in order to avoid hexing the poor boy. She turned to Narcissa with a deep breath yet Narcissa was busy studying the silently fuming Muggle born witch who just so happened to be attempting to remove an offending piece of jewelry.
"It arrived just a bit ago." Pansy whispered as she sidled to Narcissa's side. "Cormac bloody touched it and everything went tits up from there." Narcissa's brow furrowed at the crass language, but still she held her tongue.
"She doesn't know?"
"She thinks she simply has a secret admirer and assumes it's some dodgy old wizard with nothing better to do with his galleons. I didn't know until the delivery. I recognised the owl." Hermione sneered at the pair of witches across the room, lightly stroking the gems decorating her wrist.
It called to her in a way she didn't understand. She felt lighter and happier without reason. She wasn't particularly well versed in gems, however that would quickly change. She was nothing if not thorough. Hermione allowed her eyes to peruse Narcissa, her curiosity piqued by her presence. She didn't detest the woman and it was glaringly obvious her blood status was no longer an issue which intrigued her to no end.
"I saw it once, in a box. He said I mustn't touch it ever. I know it's important but…I refuse to be the witch to inform Hermione Granger she's bound to…well you know." Pansy refrained from saying his name knowing Hermione was paying keen attention.
"He altered it. I can see that from here. He didn't remove her choices; he simply enhanced their emotional connection. Merlin knows that witch needs to…"
"Remove the incredibly large wand from her arse, yes Narcissa we're all aware of that little fact." Pansy stuck her tongue out at Hermione, eliciting a loud harrumph from the angry witch.
Narcissa's heeled boots clipped across the marble floor and within seconds she was standing directly in front of the offending pair. Cormac was wrestling with his magical bindings, his face reddened with anger as he shouted in his halo of silence. Hermione was a bit more subdued though the rage was shining brightly in her dark brown eyes. Narcissa knew his son had his work cut out for him and it amused her greatly.
"Now then, whatever is the problem here? I've come to offer my services considering Merlin knows you need the help and for what? To see the Founder brawling with a conceited wizard as if she were nothing more than a common Muggle? It is unbecoming to beat anyone about the head no matter how much they may deserve it." Narcissa arched a perfectly manicured eyebrow in Cormac's direction and he had enough sense to lower his head.
"He made an untoward suggestion which was downright offensive, not to mention disgusting. He deserves much more than a simple smack about the head." Hermione crossed her arms, acting much like a petulant child rather than an accomplished witch.
Narcissa was vaguely reminded of her own son's immaturity; deciding then they were well suited to each other. Though, if she had to hazard a guess, she believed they'd never accomplish anything between the stubbornness and the pouting. Narcissa smirked lightly and settled onto the arm of Hermione's chair.
"My dear, he is a McLaggen, his entire family line is filled with nothing more than pompous wizards seeking to rise through the ranks of society. I'm going to assume he suggested a less than proper liaison for the betterment of his name and to award your charity with much needed press?" Cormac blushed furiously while squirming in his seat. "Now I believe we're all in dire need of a nice cup of tea. I'll see to that while you collect yourselves. Perhaps, Ms Granger it would be in your best interest to allow me to…handle Mr. McLaggen. It seems he requires quite a few etiquette lessons in order to properly work under the Founder of what will be a prestigious charity. I would be most helpful in that regard." Narcissa subtly winked and patted Hermione's hand and without giving her chance to respond, quickly made her way through the atrium toward a door Hermione hadn't noticed before.
"Aunt Cissy is making you bloody tea. How on earth did you manage that?" Pansy practically hissed as she waved her wand to release Hermione from the binding spell.
Hermione stroked her bracelet once more, completely intrigued by the sparkling gemstones while she wondered how on earth she would part with such a generous gift. It wasn't in her nature to accept such things, but she could feel herself growing more attached to it with each moment that passed. She was convinced it held some sort of magic she didn't understand…yet.
"Pans, you're overreacting. Mrs. Malfoy was simply helping me with my small problem." Hermione jerked her thumb toward the still bound red-faced wizard with furrowed brows and downturned lips.
"Mrs. Malfoy makes me sound quite elderly now doesn't it? Please, you must call me Narcissa as I see us becoming well acquainted." Hermione leaned forward slightly and using her fingertips closed Pansy Parkinson's gaping mouth. "Come along then, the tea shan't wait and cold tea is absolutely undesirable. Now, Mr. McLaggen, are you going to behave yourself?" With a pointed glare, Narcissa placed the tea service on a table she conjured waiting for his reply.
"Of course Narcissa, I shall be a perfect gentleman." Cormac's dazzling smile failed to dazzle any of the present witches.
"You may call me Mrs. Malfoy young man." She flicked her wand and an obviously put out Cormac joined the witches for tea.
By the time they were finished speaking, Hermione's head was spinning with new information. It seemed Narcissa Malfoy was well aware of Hermione's more than generous contributor, yet refused to divulge any information. She was more than willing to offer her services in terms of fundraisers and other charity events which seemed to focus around balls for all occasions. Hermione wasn't especially fond of the idea, but she was quite fond contributions and children with full stomachs. She nodded when it was appropriate while sipping her lukewarm tea as Pansy's quill scratched across parchment. Hermione hoped she was taking copious notes since Merlin knows she was never going to be able to retain all of this new information.
She was lost in her own thoughts, absently studying the large brown stone in the center of the bracelet when Narcissa drew her from her daydreams. She stared at the older witch with wide eyes, mentally flipping through the numerous snippets she heard while attempting to formulate a coherent response.
"It seems Ms Granger is a bit lost in her thoughts." Narcissa smirked knowing it was the mention of her son's name which had drawn the witch from her subconscious.
"I-I apologise Mrs. er uhm Narcissa. I'm just a bit distracted by these exorbitant gifts. I don't know what to make of them really." Hermione sighed and the older witch could sense her forlornness.
She couldn't help but to glance at the tastefully decorated building. Narcissa had to admit her son had truly outdone himself. It was impeccable, which impressed her to no end. He had chosen neutral colours which melded together to form a calming sort of environment. She noticed of course, he had decorated Hermione's private office in Slytherin shades, knowing he would be unable to resist, to stake his claim upon her in some way, shape or form. Personally Narcissa believed the jewelry, the building and even the monetary contributions were plenty, but it seemed he disagreed and she was not one to deny him, not now.
Hermione had an undeniable urge to leave. She wished nothing more than to rush through the doors and run into the rain. It didn't make a bit of sense, even she was aware of it, but it didn't change the way she felt. She felt flushed and felt slightly feverish to be honest and part of her wondered if it was obvious to her companions. She dabbed at her forehead with a paisley scarf she pulled from her pocket, willing her breaths to slow. Hermione leapt to her feet in the midst of one of Pansy's monologues and knocked her tea cup to the floor.
"I'm…I'm sorry, I don't know what's wrong with me but…I've, I've got to go. I've got to get out here. Is it warm in here or is it just me? I can't…" Hermione gripped the wisps of hair near her temples and took a deep breath.
Pansy slowly made her way to Hermione's side, glancing upon the composed Narcissa with confusion. She placed her arm on Hermione's back only for Hermione to wrench away with a strangled groan. Narcissa continued to sit, watching it all unfold before her with a mysterious sort of smile.
"It's quite alright my dear. If you must leave, then do so. Only, a small favour perhaps?" Hermione was busy gathering her belongings, shoving Pansy's notes into her messenger bag as the thunder boomed just outside the picture windows.
"I-I suppose it would only be fair…considering your help." Hermione's voice shook slightly, but she ignored such things, her mind intent upon vacating the suffocating premises.
"I imagine one day in the near future, such events will occur which will make it necessary for you to remember these words. Please, for your sake and the sake of others…keep an open mind. Do not close yourself off to the possibilities regardless of any childhood prejudices." Narcissa took a small sip from her tea cup as she stared into the murky brown eyes.
"I-I don't understand." Hermione whispered, already taking small steps toward the double doors.
"You will Ms Granger, you will."
Her shoe had gotten lodged in one of the uneven paving stones near the Leaky Cauldron. Her bag had split down the seam, spilling books and parchment around her, and to make matters worse it had begun to rain.
"Looks like someone angered the gods." Hermione was gathering as many pieces of parchment as she was able, hoping they weren't ruined. She didn't pay a bit of mind to the soft chuckling voice, even as she saw the long pale fingers thrusting damp books in her direction.
Hermione magicked her bag into one piece and shoved the books inside while shaking her head. She knew some of them were completely ruined and it would take her at least half a day to recreate them. Her shoe was still firmly lodged in the cobblestone, her hair was dripping in her face and she was seconds away from screaming when he took her bag.
He placed it on the ground next to his feet while she shoved sopping hair off her face and gasped. Hermione couldn't help but shiver when wet cool hands grasped her calf while dislodging her shoe. She was so surprised by the contact she fell backward, landing in a small puddle.
She knew she looked a fright, but it didn't seem to bother him. He smiled slightly while repairing her broken heel and gently slid the shoe back onto her foot.
"Th-thanks, Malfoy." Hermione's teeth chattered as the rain seeped through her tweed suit jacket while she tried to heave to her feet.
He remained silent, simply slipping his hands under her arms and placing her gently on her feet. He barely managed to resist the urge to finger the sparkling jewelry decorating her wrist, but he wasn't about to give himself away, not yet.
"Come along then Granger. Can't have you standing here like a loon in this weather." Draco Malfoy snatched her bag from the ground and with a gentle hand laid upon her back, led her inside the Leaky Cauldron.
Hermione wasn't sure what to make of his actions. She allowed herself to be directed toward the back of the pub and vaguely heard him speak with Tom. Draco opened a small door beside the Floo which she had never seen before and he immediately stoked the fire.
"Sit down; you'll catch your death." Hermione nodded, still wary and unsure, but what could it hurt to sit in front a warm fire.
She barely blinked when he removed her jacket, chastising her for not wearing robes and offered her a cup of tea. She barely remembered drinking it, but remembered the warming sensation.
Draco observed her sipping the tea and the way her damn blouse clung to her curves. It was a pretty shade of pink and it struck him as odd to think of such a thing, even as her hair dripped. He sighed and left the room, returning a moment later with a few towels.
Tentatively he sat beside her and when she didn't acknowledge his presence he began drying her hair. Hermione frowned as she felt him rubbing the tendrils between the plush cotton, wondering how he knew she never used magic on her hair.
"How did you…"
"Blaise." He interrupted. It was true to a certain extent. Blaise had regaled him in stories of Hermione and their short courtship. Blaise had found it quite amusing when he'd used magic to dry Hermione's hair after an afternoon of swimming and she had shouted at him.
"Why are you being so nice to me?" Hermione finally asked, filling in the silence. Narcissa's words echoed in her head and she couldn't help but wonder if this moment was what she had been referring to.
Draco didn't answer her immediately. He was still encompassed in awe that she was allowing him such liberties. He finger combed her hair backward, toying with the damp curls as they coiled around his fingers. He knew he was pushing the limits of his constraints, yet he felt as if he'd waited a lifetime to be near her.
"Potter and I aren't what anyone would consider friendly terms, but we haven't resorted to hexes. I've spent the last few months abroad, but before that I'd spent a decent amount of time aiding the Ministry. I don't…I don't wish to be my father and I thought the best way to prove that would be to give the Aurors whatever information they wished as far as Former Death Eaters still loyal to their ridiculous cause. I've been attempting to mend relations. You'd be surprised that even the Weasel is civil, though I do believe it's under duress. The next logical step of course…is you." Draco dragged the cloth down her arms, scrubbing away the gooseflesh.
"Me, but I would have thought you'd consider me beneath you? I mean, you were never one to pull punches and on more than one occasion you called me a Mud..." Draco covered her lips with his finger, tamping down the shiver of contact.
"Shh, don't say it, please. I haven't said nor thought such a thing in years. I don't want you or anyone else to think of me as the child I was. I'm not proud of it, but I was then. I'm not going to tell you I didn't believe in the madness because I don't wish to lie. I did, but at the same time, I was young and impressionable and it was easier to go along with my father than fight against him. I should have, I know that now, but I didn't. I thought if I made him happy, he'd love me. I know how incredibly pathetic that sounds, but that was all I wanted then."
"It's different now?" Hermione shivered again and before she could raise her wand for a simple Warming Charm, Draco had covered her in his fur lined cloak.
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." Hermione kicked off her shoes and drew her feet under the cloak, snuggling into its warmth.
"Try me. I'm much more open minded than Harry or Ron." Draco studied her profile carefully, not wishing her to see the depth of his emotions.
"I know and I will, someday." The small room seemed unbearably stifling and he knew it was due to the close proximity to her, yet he was unwilling to remove himself.
Hermione was no longer wary of him, he seemed sincere and she wasn't willing to unjustly judge him on childhood antics. While her blouse was still a bit damp, she was significantly warmer and her eyes had begun to droop. Hermione yawned, covering her mouth quickly as the blush spread across her cheeks.
"I'm so embarrassed. I'm sorry."
"Granger, it's obvious you're quite exhausted. There's no shame in closing your eyes for a moment. You've been working yourself too hard, though that doesn't surprise me in the least. You always were a bit of an overachiever." Hermione searched the grey eyes for the slightest speck of malice, yet found none.
"It's still a bit strange for me. I never imagined sitting in front of a fire with Draco Malfoy."
"Is it terrible then?" He closed his eyes, half expecting a barrage of insults and to see her bouncing curls retreat in a fit of anger. Instead, her hand covered his and he barely refrained from leaping from his skin.
"No. I defended you, did you know that? Of course not, I didn't really expect you too. Sixth year, Harry and Ron were intent on placing the blame on you for every little speck of trouble. They were determined you were embracing evil and hatching some devious plan. I defended you. I told them how ridiculous they were being and the world most definitely did not revolve around Draco Malfoy. They wouldn't hear of it, stubborn arses they were, still are quite honestly. I was so disappointed when they were right." Hermione sighed, watching the reds, oranges and yellows battle together in the fireplace.
"Why," Draco cleared his throat uncomfortably, "why did you tell me that?" He turned his hand until they were palm to palm, yet he did not interlace their fingers. He didn't want her to leave. He didn't want her to grow angry with him over his advances so he remained still.
"Perhaps we never hated each other, not really. Perhaps we were both simply playing our parts, that's all." Hermione's head fell back, her eyes closed and a few moments later her breaths were slow and steady.
It amazed him that she could say something so incredibly profound and then close her eyes and fall asleep. Draco was afraid to move and yet he wished nothing more than to be closer to her. She whimpered when the thunder crashed above them, her forehead creasing with anxiety. Carefully he shifted closer to her, his arm along the back of the sofa and she sighed into his warmth. Hermione fell into his side with sighs and mumblings and he couldn't help but draw her closer.
She was half on his lap before Draco was satisfied with his arms tightly around her. He studied the smattering of freckles across her nose, so light they would have been missed with a less discerning eye. He brushed his thumb across her plump pink lips as they barely parted in her slumber.
Her damp skirt was seeping into his slacks and without a second thought he removed it with a flick of his wand and set it to dry before the fire. Her blouse quickly followed, though he kept her covered with his cloak. If she awoke to discover her state of undress, he knew there would be hell to pay, but he couldn't have her catching ill.
Draco's breath expelled in short bursts when his cloak slipped from her shoulder, exposing creamy unblemished skin. He only meant to wrap it around her, yet his fingertips grazed the pale skin and he was lost. He tried to extricate himself from the limbs languidly tossed across his lap, but he couldn't.
He picked up his discarded wand and widened the sofa slightly. It didn't take him but a moment to recline upon his side, dragging Hermione down with him until he was draped around her. Draco knew he was living dangerously. He knew he was pushing himself further than he'd ever pushed himself before, but he couldn't tear himself away.
He slipped his arm beneath Hermione's head, burying his nose in her curls, the faint scent of lavender and the remnants of spring rain clinging to him. Hermione was vaguely aware of a warm body against hers and slowly opened her eyes.
"Wh-what are you doing?" Her voice with husky with sleep, yet she didn't move away from him, keeping the small flame of hope alive.
"I'm holding you Granger. You're absolutely freezing and there's a storm raging. I couldn't very well leave you to your own devices." Hermione kept her gaze steady on the base of his throat, her heart pounding.
"Do you do this for all your friends then?" She was incredibly aware of the fact she was in her underclothes, wrapped not only in Draco Malfoy's cloak but also his arms.
She'd be lying to herself if she didn't admit she'd always had a bit of attraction to the Slytherin. She never imagined being in such a situation with him, but it wasn't distasteful. It was exhilarating as much as it was terrifying. She didn't truly understand the reasoning behind his actions, but she was afraid to question his motives.
"Oh Granger, I don't wish to be friends." Hermione swallowed nervously upon the feel of cool lips brushing against her forehead in a whisper.
Draco's forefinger tapped her chin lightly until their eyes met. He clutched her to him, biting back a groan of want as her body fit against his.
"Y-you don't?" If he hadn't been staring at her lips, he would have missed the question altogether. Hermione could feel the frantic rhythm of his heart beneath her fingertips and for some strange reason his nervousness eased hers.
"Not at all, my sweet. I wish to be much…much more than that." Hermione blinked; sure her senses were playing tricks on her. Draco Malfoy didn't speak of sentiments, especially not to someone like her. At least those were the thoughts swirling in her weary mind the moment before he kissed her.
Draco was no longer sure where he ended and she began, but the throbbing ache in his heart ebbed as he tasted her. He refused to press her, keeping the raging fire contained. He simply pressed his lips to hers, his free hand holding her head in place before pulling back.
He slipped his hand beneath the cloak, his fingertips gently caressing her bare shoulder, down the length of her arm until it settled on her warm waist. Draco was slightly appeased to feel her so close to him, to have her allowing him such liberties, but he knew it wouldn't last long. He wasn't ready to explain his unique heritage to her, not yet. He needed more time. He wanted her to know him as he was, not as he had been. He wanted to draw her in slowly, so when he was finally able to tell her the truth, it would be too late. She wouldn't be able to reject him if she felt half as strongly as he did.
"Malfoy, you've got to admit, you've got a bit of a reputation. I'm…I'm not interested in being a notch on your bedpost…" Hermione rolled onto her back, expecting him to remove his hand, yet it remained, instead sliding along her stomach.
"Granger you wound me." Draco adjusted himself until they were at eye level, turning her onto her side once more. "I haven't been with a woman since before the war. Of course if you were ever to tell anyone, I'd deny it." He curled around her, his hand stroking her back until she relaxed.
"What am I doing? What the hell am I doing?" Draco kissed her again, quickly, sweetly before Hermione could talk herself out of the situation and bolt from Tom's backroom.
"Just let go, my sweet." He tugged on her bottom lip lightly with his teeth until she gasped. His tongue flicked forward, tasting the corner of her lip before gently probing her mouth.
His hips inadvertently flexed into her, causing Hermione to tear her lips from his. She sat up quickly, shrugging the cloak from her shoulders as she planted her bare feet on the rough wooden planks. Draco remained in his prone position, studying the curves of her back. His palm ran the length of her spine while she attempted to collect herself.
"What do you want from me?" Hermione glanced over her shoulder, noticing the darkened hue of his eyes. She wasn't afraid of him, though she knew Harry and Ron would be livid, due to their own prejudices more than anything.
"Forever." Draco sat up behind her and kissed her shoulder blade to the back of her neck.
"Well, that's ridiculous isn't it? We've only just…reconnected. You can't make such statements when you barely know me." Draco smirked against her skin, pushing her hair over her other shoulder. Her words belied her actions for she leaned into his caresses, sighed as his lips danced across her skin.
"I know you better than you think." Hermione's head lulled to the side when Draco slid the strap of her bra down her shoulder. He was careful to never allow his teeth to come in contact with her skin. He knew he wouldn't be able to resist marking her and as much as he wanted her he couldn't imagine forcing her into the situation.
"I-I should go." Hermione sagged against his chest, her thighs pressing tightly together in order to quell the newfound ache between them.
"Do you really want too?" Draco's lips ghosted the shell of her ear in his whisper, his chest rumbling with her shiver.
"No." Hermione sighed, a strange sound of discontent escaping her lips when he withdrew.
Draco reclined upon the sofa and patted the space in front of him. Hermione dropped her head to her chest in indecision. She didn't want to leave, but she knew it was dangerous for her to stay. She didn't trust herself with him.
"Come here, Granger." Hermione didn't know what possessed her to listen to his honeyed voice, but she did.
While her back was turned, Draco had unbuttoned his royal blue dress shirt. The skin to skin contact was almost too much for both of them. Hermione's warm palm touched his heart, her thumb stroking the pale skin. She was astonished by how completely natural it felt to lie with Draco Malfoy.
"I…I'm not, I'm not having…I mean…" Hermione floundered, ill at ease with what she wished to say.
"I know." Draco stretched his arm across her body in order to retrieve the cloak. His eyes lingered on her pink lacy bra and her light blue knickers. He smothered a smile, satisfied with the knowledge that not every woman matched her entire ensemble.
The clap of thunder startled Hermione and she rolled into him, her limbs trembling.
"Is the courageous Gryffinor afraid of thunderstorms?" Draco was pleasantly surprised to discover how satisfied he was, simply by holding her in his arms.
He could barely believe he'd valiantly fought against Apolline. He wished he hadn't wasted so much time struggling against his path.
"I love the rain, but there's something about the booming thunder I've always found a bit intimidating. I know it's silly. Harry and Ron always mocked me for it, but I can't help it." Draco propped himself up on his elbow, his head in his hand while pressing the small of her back into him.
"It's not silly at all. Sometimes the fears of our youth follow us into adulthood. There's nothing wrong with that. We all have fears, whether we admit them or not." Draco kissed her cheek as another roll of thunder crashed above them in the moments before their eyes closed and they fell into a restless slumber.
Hermione's leg slipped between his and without thinking, he reached down between them and grasped her thigh. He had only intended on keeping her from damaging his assets, but once he began to touch her, he couldn't nor did he want to stop. Draco started slow, peppering her face in small kisses down to her neck, tugging her earlobe. Her soft sighs encouraged him as his palm brushed the back of her knee to the exposed curve of her bum.
His tongue slipped between her teeth, fingertips beneath the band of her bra until it fell open. Draco peeled the strap from her shoulder while their heavy breaths filled the small room. He rolled onto his back, yanking her on top of him and tossed her bra onto the floor. His darkened eyes remained locked on hers, the flush bright on her cheeks. Hermione pushed against his chest, sitting up while realising she straddled his lap and his eyes dropped to her voluptuous breasts.
Draco hefted their weight in his palms, his thumbs lightly brushing the peaks until they hardened. Hermione's mind and body were battling against each other in a fervor, but the moment his mouth covered her aching peak, her body won the war. She moaned, louder than she intended, arching into his practiced touch, which only furthered his ministrations.
Draco was treading water. He'd never expected Hermione to welcome his advances nor her eager responses. He was afraid he wouldn't be able to stop when the moment came. He didn't want to force her, but as her fingers tightly gripped his blonde strands, he only wished to lose himself in her. He wanted to feel her convulsing around him while he was buried within. Draco groaned against her throat, wrapping his arms around her waist.
"Granger." Draco wrestled her still, the friction of her sensuous rocking making a difficult situation nearly impossible. "We've got to stop."
"You're right. I know you're right…it's just…" Hermione's arms were locked around his neck, her breasts almost flat against his chest. She flexed her pelvis against the bulge in his pants and shuddered. "It's that…its right there and I can't…" He understood the desperation as he fingered the edge of her knickers.
Draco fell onto his back, his hands slipping beneath the light blue lace of her knickers and Hermione whimpered. He knew what she wanted, exactly what she needed and he eased her knickers down supple thighs, until she was bare.
"You are exquisite." Draco wiggled his way out of his slacks and dropped them to the floor, careful to keep his boxers firmly in place.
The fear in Hermione's eyes was palpable as he slowly climbed on top of her. Her hands had instinctively covered her breasts from his smoldering eyes. He peeled them from her, kissing each wrist before trapping them over her head. Her knees bent, providing him access to that which he sought and he pushed himself against the apex of her thighs. Draco tortured himself while aiding in her pleasure.
"Gods, just do it Malfoy." Hermione's back cleared the sofa in her need to feel him. Draco ground into her, refusing to remove the last barrier between them.
"Granger, the first time I take you, it will not be in Tom's backroom." Draco flopped beside her, ignoring her whimpers of discontent.
His hand snaked between her legs to tease her slick folds and she bucked into his hand. He could smell her innocence as much as he could sense it and he felt empowered knowing he was the only man to bring her such pleasure. Her lips found his and he was pleasantly surprised by her voracious nature. Hermione's fingernails dug into his shoulders, her knees shaking, her whimpers and gasps being swallowed by his lips as she came undone.
Draco swirled his fingertips, elongating her pleasure until he slipped a solitary finger within her. He expected the heat, slick with arousal yet her keening while Hermione reached yet another crescendo was addictive.
Draco's eyes snapped open, his breath expelling in forceful little gasps. He chanced a glance at the witch still safely in his arms and sighed. He decided he would happily spend the rest of his life in moments such as these, even if it was only a dream.
