A/N: Because I'm so egregiously late with this chapter, I made sure to make it a nice, long juicy one. I do hope you like it. Thanks ever so much to all of you who leave me kind reviews. You're such sweethearts! I love hearing what you think and seeing how you react to each new development.


WARNING: This chapter contains naughty bits *winks lasciviously*


The Silver Dragon

By Kittenshift17


Chapter 11


Hermione Granger looked up through a haze of steam that was issuing from the Ice Fang dragon's mouth as she studied it carefully to see the sight of someone entering her lab. She narrowed her eyes on the intruder, squinting through the fog at the raven haired man that she was sure she didn't know. She bared her teeth at him for the intrusion in annoyance, not at all in the mood for tolerating anyone else's nonsense. Hatty had signed off earlier that evening and she was once again positively starving thanks to her reaction to the antivenin she'd had to take earlier in the day.

"Can I help you?" Hermione demanded grumpily.

"You look bloody ridiculous, Granger," he snorted at her and Hermione groaned internally when she realised it was Malfoy, still in his disguise from earlier.

"You're the one in the muscle shirt," Hermione retorted, doing her best to turn her attention back to her work. A little known side-effect she also suffered from the antivenin was that it made her insatiably horny until it worked its way out of her system. If she allowed herself, she would fall into a horrid cycle of eating and shagging when she was effected by it. The last thing she needed right at that moment was Draco Malfoy sniffing around her office, especially now that they were banned from shagging one another.

That he'd snogged her that morning had been problematic enough. She could no longer simply class him as a drunken mistake and Hermione didn't trust herself not to let things get out of hand. Not when he kissed like the devil.

"Thanks to you. You're bloody lucky no one realised the tattoo on my back wasn't just another glamour, woman," he informed her, moving closer to her lab table and lifting a bag of something.

Hermione's mouth watered as she caught the scent of well-prepared Chinese food wafting from the package.

"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" Hermione demanded, doing her damnedest to keep from lunging for the food and eating it all by herself.

"Waiting for those reports you said you'd do for me," Malfoy smirked at her, "And for you to undo these glamours. Figured we might as well eat since it's almost eight o'clock."

"What?" Hermione asked, frowning at him in confusion. She glanced down at her wrist watch and blinked in shock. When had it gotten so late? No wonder she was starving. She hadn't eaten in hours.

"Do try not to appear so dense, Granger," Malfoy commanded, "Now leave the dragon alone, put me right again and eat with me."

"We can't eat in here," Hermione informed him. The logical part of her brain was reminding her that she wasn't meant to be eating with him at all, and that they were supposed to be keeping interactions to a minimum lest his father learn they'd ever shagged. Her subconscious was also reminding her that the git was now technically her husband. Something she was going to have to deal with at some stage. After all, she'd decided to try and keep it from him that they'd foolishly gotten married, but it wouldn't be very effective for long with him intending to marry Astoria in a few months. She was intending to find out what she could do to have the marriage annulled or otherwise reversed, though she wasn't sure how effective it would be. Everything she'd read suggested the bonding ceremony that called for tattoos was specifically designed to be practically impossible to undo.

However, all of those things came second to her grumbling stomach at that moment and she wasn't about to tell him he couldn't be there and needed to buzz off when she could take advantage of the food he was offering.

"What do you suggest then?" he asked, raising his eyebrows at her.

"Let me put this guy away and we'll eat in my office. And don't touch anything. You'll contaminate my lab."

He curled his lip at her in annoyance for her bossy tone but Hermione ignored him in favour of caging the dragon she'd been studying once more and putting him back in the enclosure she had for the many creatures she'd been studying. When she was done she beckoned Malfoy behind her and led him into her office.

"Are you going to fix how I look or not?" he asked when they reached the office, "You should fix the way you look too, by the way. Your hair looks like its harbouring fugitives, it's so frizzy."

"Did I ask for your opinion?" Hermione demanded, her hunger getting the better of her.

"You never do," he retorted, smirking as though her temper amused him. Hermione wasn't surprised. She waved her wand at herself, dissipating the charms upon herself before doing the same to him. She couldn't help but giggle when they melted away, leaving his standing there in the tight muscle shirt and looking so entirely not like Draco Malfoy. She kind of hated herself for the pulse of desire she felt at the sight of him, knowing what he could do to her in a bedroom.

"Oh those clothes do not suit you, Draco Malfoy," she informed him, still chuckling.

"I tried to tell you that this morning," he pointed out.

"They worked for your cover. But seeing you in them without the rest of the glamour charms just looks hilarious," Hermione smirked at him, "I take it by your presence here and the fact that you have food, that you're avoiding going home?"

"Would you want to walk into your house after a long day of paperwork to be assaulted and rebuked over the treatment of a woman you loathe?" he asked her archly as he opened the bag of Chinese food and began unloading the containers onto her desk.

"This is why I live alone," Hermione replied, still smirking at him and amused by the notion of him preferring her company to that of his parents, even if he was only using her to avoid them.

"Oh yeah, that's the only reason," he retorted sarcastically, "And here I thought you were so enamoured with Wood?"

Hermione rolled her eyes at him.

"Oliver and I are no longer seeing each other," Hermione replied, accepting the pair of chopsticks he offered her and reaching for the Peanut Chicken, "No matter how much I might've grown to care for him and he for me."

"Why not?" Malfoy asked her nosily and Hermione marvelled at his ability to be scornful, confused and curious all at the same time.

"Gee, could it have anything to do with the idea of me cheating on him?" Hermione asked just as sarcastically.

"You were the one who insisted you wouldn't be doing so any longer," he replied, digging into the Mu Shu Pork hungrily and wielding his chopsticks like a seasoned veteran.

"You say that as though you believe I might've only been cheating on him with you," Hermione replied archly, smirking when he narrowed his eyes on her slightly.

"Just how much of a tart are you, Granger?" he demanded to know.

Hermione blew a raspberry at him thanks to having her mouth full.

"I'm not a tart at all, thank you very much. You're the one screwing around on your fiancé."

"I'm the one forced into a relationship I don't want with a woman I can't stand," he corrected her, "And unlike you, I've only been cheating with one person."

Hermione paused in her devouring of the food, having moved onto the beef and black bean to look up at him, startled.

"You were only..."

"Shagging you?" he offered, "Yeah. I'm a prominent figure in our world, Granger. I don't get the luxury of sleeping around with just anyone now that I'm engaged. Since you're the only one with as much to lose as I have, and therefore the only one who is likely to keep her mouth shut about it all, you are the only woman I've been shagging since I started courting Astoria."

Hermione blinked at him in utter shock.

"You've been officially courting her for two and a half years," Hermione pointed out, confused, "You've only been shagging me and her in that time?"

Malfoy snorted at her.

"Do you imagine that proper pureblood etiquette allows for the idea of me shagging her?" he asked scornfully, "I've never shagged Astoria, and won't until we're married."

Hermione almost dropped her container of honey chicken. He'd only been shagging for the past two and a half years? That was... insane! Hermione stared at him in utter horror. Sweet Merlin, no wonder she'd been accusing him of getting attached. How was he even functioning without getting laid more frequently than she was offering?

"Don't look at me like that," he warned her in a low voice.

"I just don't understand," Hermione said finally when she recovered from her shock, "Surely if you want out of this marriage to Astoria so badly, it would make more sense to let yourself be caught in a compromising position? You've made no secret to me about your hatred for Astoria. Why are you marrying her if you loathe her so much?"

"I don't have a choice," he replied, shrugging, "Her father and mine arranged it all for political alliance and business venture solidification. If I protest too openly or do anything to sabotage the union, I expect my parents would cut me off financially and kick me out of the Manor."

"That doesn't mean you don't have a choice, Malfoy," Hermione rolled her eyes, "I can assure you that plenty of functioning adults live separately from their parents and provide for themselves financially. It's not as though you don't have a well-paying job to finance yourself."

"I hope you're not counting yourself among the functioning adults, Granger" he replied, smirking at her.

"Why wouldn't I?" Hermione asked him, "I've lived without my parents since I was eighteen and I'm perfectly functioning."

"Aside from the mild alcoholism, the penchant for getting yourself poisoned - both by accident and on purpose - and the fact that you're so mentally twisted you've been shagging someone you can't stand while muttering your fury over the bloke who broke your heart years ago," he pointed out rudely.

"And just what would you know about it?" Hermione demanded, narrowing her eyes on him in annoyance.

"I'm the idiot you've been shagging," he retorted.

"I'm pleased to see you've come to terms with your own idiocy, but you know nothing about me or my life, Malfoy."

"Other than that you despise how much you can't hate Camilla Weasley, and that wish pox upon Weaselbee and tend to get drunk whilst sore over those things before you end up shagging me three ways from Sunday. Face it, Granger. Once might've been a foolish accident and a decision made under drunken circumstance. Twice was a mistake that never should have occurred. But considering your went for round thirteen last week, I think it's become clear that you're not entirely as mentally stable as you might've hoped."

Hermione thought seriously about throwing the container of spicy beef at his head. How dare he point out her flaws this way? Who did he think he was?

Maybe your husband? her subconscious sneered unhelpfully and Hermione felt fury flood her cheeks pink at the reminder that the man currently goading her from the far side of her desk with his stupid, pointed face and his ridiculous blonde hair was, in fact, her legally wedded husband and he had no idea they were even married. Hermione really was going to have to do something about it.

"This from the person who spouted blood purity his whole life and has spent the better part of the past three years exclusively shagging a mudblood?" she snarled in reply, "From the man who is literally a barely functioning alcoholic because he's letting his family manhandle him into a marriage he doesn't want, all because he's too scared to part with his family's money?"

"I never claimed to be a functioning adult, Granger," Malfoy replied, smirking as though she'd amused him with her fury rather than insulted him.

"Why are you here?" Hermione demanded, furious with him now. She knew it was a result of her adverse reaction to the antivenin and she hated herself for the way desire was boiling in her blood despite how angry she was with him, "You can't be here, Malfoy. You and I might be forced into being colleagues but we are not shagging anymore and we are certainly not friends. I won't be your excuse just so you can avoid going home to a situation you're not happy with."

"Yes you will," he replied, still smirking infuriatingly, "And you owe me a number of reports."

"You bought me dinner!" Hermione snarled in annoyance.

"Most people would just say thank you, Granger," he pointed out, "Are the circumstance of your birth responsible for this lack of manners you exhibit?"

Hermione slammed down her food and shot to her feet.

"You have no right to speak about my parents when your own are the type of rotten people who would sacrifice your happiness for the sake of their political alliances!" she snarled furiously, "Not when they're the type of people who would ever fall in with Voldemort in the first place. Don't you dare lecture me about manners when you were raised by cold-hearted, vindictive bigots and have less manners to speak of than the average troll!"

Malfoy stood as well, setting down his food as he glared at her coldly.

"Witch if I had less manners than a troll I'd bend you over this fucking desk and spank you until you couldn't sit down!" he informed her coldly.

Hermione narrowed her eyes on him even as she felt another pulse of desire course through her, making her knickers damp.

"I stand by what I said," Hermione retorted, squaring her shoulders defiantly, "You're nothing but a spoiled little rich boy who might've been taught all the pompous bollocks but you still believe you're better than everyone else and so don't deign to use those manners expect to pander to people you despise, for the sake of marrying a woman you loathe, just so Daddy doesn't kick you out of the house. You're pathetic!"

Before she could blink, Malfoy rounded her desk and invaded her personal space, his wand closing and locking the door with a snap. He twisted a hand into her hair viciously, and Hermione hated herself for how much she liked the sting. She could honestly say that outside of the things she did with Malfoy, she'd never explored the world of BDSM or considered herself a masochist, but sweet Merlin, she liked the things he did to her. She might usually be drunk and so not at all care about some of the humiliating things he did to her, but in all honesty, she enjoyed them just the same.

"Insults, Granger?" he asked, well within her personal space as he moulded her body to his chest, his lips ghosting against hers as he stared her down.

"Got a problem with that, Malfoy?" Hermione retorted, holding her ground and glaring at him just as furiously.

He made a sound of furious frustration before his lips slammed against hers forcefully, his tongue sweeping between her lips to tangle with hers hungrily. Hermione knew it was wrong. She'd vowed to herself that she would stop shagging him. Her soul searching had proven to her that she no longer loved Ron in a romantic sense; that she adored Oliver but couldn't have a future with him; and that her husband was trouble.

But the feel of him against her, his hand twisting in her hair savagely in a way that stung just a bit, not to mention the antivenin effects coursing through her body, made it so that Hermione didn't much care right then about saying no to him and refusing to shag him again. Not when his fiancé was a bitch. She'd realised that she was only ceasing shagging him for two reasons. He was supposed to be with Astoria, no matter how vapid she was. And she didn't want him to catch sight of her tattoo and figure out they were married.

Then again, she didn't see why she couldn't just prevent him from stripping her out of her shirt.

Kissing him back just as forcefully, Hermione dug her nails into the sides of his neck hungrily, moulding herself more fully against him and snogging him furiously. Her heart began to pound inside her chest and her whole body throbbed with need. He twisted them both until Hermione was backed up against her desk, trapping her against the wood and grinding into her hungrily. She'd never shagged him whilst completely sober before, but he was no less intoxicating now than he had been every other time she'd shagged him.

Releasing his neck to delve her hands between them, Hermione fumbled with his belt until she got it undone. She squeaked in surprise when he suddenly broke their passionate snog, spun her roughly and bent her over the desk. Before she could react, she found herself chained to her desk by the set of handcuffs attached to a metal ring on the far side, for those time when she dealt with criminals of the Magical Creature persuasion.

"Hey!" Hermione complained, though she was utterly titillated. He nibbled her earlobe, breathing hotly into her ear even as he flipped her skirt up over her back and was reaching for her knickers.

"Don't pretend you're not wet for it Granger," he purred into her ear, "I know you heard me warn you about a demonstration of how troll-like I could be."

"Block the Floo, idiot," Hermione replied, squirming at the liquid heat pooling between her thighs.

"We also agreed you weren't in charge and wouldn't be giving the orders," he informed her, though Hermione heard him mutter the charms to do as she'd asked just the same. His free hand peeled her out of her knickers and Hermione felt a terrible thrill rush through her as they skidded down her legs to puddle at her feet, revealing her bum and her aching quim to the cool air of the office.

She hissed in surprise when he brought his belt down firmly on her behind, striking both cheeks and being sure to clip her pussy with it. Merlin that stung! Much more than it had whenever she'd been drunk.

"Hurts more sober?" he wanted to know, curling himself around her to nip her earlobe again.

"Yes," Hermione admitted.

She ought to have felt terribly exposed and vulnerable chained this way, bent over her desk and tethered in place, her naked bum on display to his hungry gaze while he humiliated her by spanking her as though she were a naughty child. Hermione didn't know what to make of the fact that she didn't. Oh, she did feel exposed. Raw, even. But she'd didn't feel vulnerable to him. She felt… strangely worshipped.

It made no sense to her whatsoever.

"Want me to stop?" he asked after delivering a second blow that made her cry out softly.

"No," she admitted, her cheeks pinkening at her shameful admission.

"Good girl," he purred in her ear for her honesty and Hermione hated them both just a little bit to know that the words of praise worked her into a lustful frenzy. She loathed how much she'd always craved approval from others for her endeavours.

She could feel herself getting wetter with every strike and Hermione cried out several spanks later when he burrowed one long finger into her slick quim. Each strike of his belt on her now stinging behind sent jolts of pleasure coursing through her, heightening the feeling of neediness between her legs and making her ache to have him touch her. She writhed against her restraints, bucking and wiggling, trying to bring the belt of his body into better contact with her aching centre. Trying to find release

"Oh Gods," Hermione groaned, laying her forehead on the table as he tormented her with that single digit. His darkly satisfied chuckle made her throb even more.

"Still think I'm a troll?" he asked her huskily and Hermione could feel the raging proof that he was as turned on by all this as she was.

"No," Hermione practically sobbed, her head pulled back by his rough fist in her hair so he could peer into her face even as he moulded him body to her back, "No, you're an animal."

He smirked wickedly then and Hermione felt his belt drop to the floor by their feet. He released her hair and she could feel him fumbling with the front of his trousers, unbuttoning them quickly. His other hand still tormented her quim, two fingers now working in and out of her, scraping at her sensitive places as though he knew them all by heart. Hermione supposed that by now he probably did know them all by heart. A sob caught in her throat as he tormented her g-spot while his thumb began pressing soft circles to her clit.

"Tease," she accused breathlessly when he worked her right to the brink of orgasm before backing off slightly, his lips playing at her neck hungrily.

"You want it?" he asked her, his voice husky.

Hermione nodded.

"I can't hear you, Granger," he tutted clucking his tongue disapprovingly, "Do you want it?"

"Yes, I want it," Hermione whimpered, hating him just a bit for what he was doing to her. He took his time pleasuring her. His fingers pumping in slowly, curling against her special soft and dragging back out. He nipped her neck sharply enough to leave a mark before sucking the flesh into his mouth reverently.

"Say please," he purred in her ear, still torturing her with his thumb on her clit, pressing ever so softly to it in a way that drove her wild. She rocked her hips back against him, trying to bring more friction.

"Say please, my needy little vixen," he whispered, chuckling and backing off slightly with his hand to keep her from getting what she wanted until she did as he asked. Hermione knew she ought to be offended by is calling her that, but she was too delirious to care. That he'd also called her his messed with her head.

"Please Malfoy," Hermione sobbed raggedly, bucking against his hand again as she tried to get what she needed, "Please fuck me."

He hummed appreciatively and nuzzled her cheek even as he withdrew his fingers from her slick passage. Hermione cried out in protest at the very idea and it turned into a low whine of delight when she felt him press the head of his cock to her slit and begin slowly impaling her upon it. He took his sweet time about it, one slow inch pressing into her at a time until he was seated deep inside her. Another sob tore from her throat as tears slipped down her cheeks at how good it felt.

His hand tangled back into her hair, pulling her up as far as the chains allowed and turning her to receive his blazing kiss. Hermione's blood boiled inside her veins at the feeling of utter completion she felt with him buried inside her, impaling her so deliciously while he snogged her so hungrily. Her bottom stung from her spanking and he released her lips and her hair once more when Hermione felt she might swoon with the lack of oxygen.

She cried out when he gripped her hips tightly while he withdrew almost as slowly as he'd penetrated her. The bolt-jolting force as he drove back in buckled her knees and Hermione crashed to the desk-top, boneless when he powered into her, his body bumping into hers and making the welts on her bum ache deliciously.

He set a hard pace then, his hands biting into her hips viciously as he fucked her so hard Hermione's vision blurred. She writhed and moaned in his grip, trying to gain some semblance of self-control, trying to angle her hips to prevent the way each hard thrust ground her clit against the edge of the desk. When she came apart in his hold, it was with a hoarse cry of utter agony, pleasure and surrender all rolled into one.

"Fuck, Granger!" she dimly heard him curse as he pistoned into her even harder while she dragged him into the abyss along with her. Hot, heavy spurts brought about his release and Hermione sighed, panting as he rested against her, curled around her where she was still bent over the desk. His hands left her hips to slide down her arms and tangle with her own chained pair.

He panted against her. Dimly, Hermione was aware of the discarded dinner they'd abandoned during the fight turned shag session. When Malfoy peeled himself off of her and waved his wand to release her wrists, Hermione dropped back into her office chair, sitting in his lap when she found him already there.

She clutched the box of lemon chicken in her hand. Malfoy snorted as she reclined against his chest and began picking at the chicken with her fingers, popping it into her mouth.

"How can you still be hungry?" he wanted to know when he rested his chin over her shoulder, "You already ate most of the food and I just fucked your into submission."

"It's the antivenin," Hermione admitted, still breathing raggedly. She offered him a piece of chicken with her fingers and felt a stir of desire in her belly when he nipped and licked at her fingers as he accepted it. The fact that she'd just hand-fed him boggled her mind.

"It makes you hungry enough to eat an entire take-away store?" he asked.

"And horny enough to become a hooker," Hermione nodded her head, "If you stick around long enough for me to get my breath back, I'll fuck you again."

"Bloody hell, Granger," he said, seeming amused, "Just how often do you have to take this stuff?"

"Antivenin, not that often. I tend to avoid studying venomous reptilian creatures when I can for the simple reason that I would go broke trying to feed myself with how often I'd need to take the medicine and suffer the results. But I tend to need antidote to a poison at least once a day."

"You're a little bit barmy, aren't you Granger?" he asked, accepting more chicken when she offered it to him.

"I'm just dedicated to my job. And the antidotes do the trick, so there's not so much to worry about with the effects. It allows for the testing of their venom, poison or other secretions on humans too."

"You have a penchant for allowing yourself to be the human test subject?" he asked her, and Hermione closed her eyes as she leaned against him, hoping against hope that he'd forgotten the Memory Potion.

"No reason not to. Magic has cures for things that would otherwise have killed me years ago," Hermione informed him.

"Tell me what happened the night of Weaselbee's wedding," he commanded quietly, his arms circling her waist to hold her on his lap while she reclined against him and continued to eat.

"No," Hermione answered bluntly.

"Granger," he warned.

"I'm not going to tell you, Malfoy," Hermione warned him, "So don't take that tone with me. You do not need or want to know what happened."

"Witch, I woke up with a giant tattoo!" he growled, twisting his arms inward far enough that she could see the glint of silver of his tattoo peeking out the sleeves of the muscle shirt.

"I know," Hermione told her, "But what do you want me to tell you? You had the stupid idea that you wanted a tattoo, I was drunk enough to encourage you since I happen to find tattoos sexy, and we shagged."

"I took you back to the Manor," he reminded her, "My father heard us."

"Yes, I know," Hermione replied, sighing, "Which is why you really shouldn't be here having dinner with me and shagging me."

"I came here under the pretence of reminding you about the files I need from you, since I knew you'd be busy with your creatures and have forgotten," he retorted.

"And yet you just bent me over the desk and fucked me, after feeding me," she replied, "You're father is going to catch us, Malfoy and I do not want to deal with the fallout when he does. You know he'll bury the pair of us. It's one thing to have him know you're cheating on your fiancé. It's another to have him find out you've sullied yourself with a muggleborn. He'll use his influence to tank my career and smear my reputation and he'll most likely murder you."

"None of that stopped you from begging me to fuck you," he pointed out unhelpfully.

"I've ingested a potion that makes me want to shag anything male, don't think you're special Malfoy."

"Didn't stop you shagging me any of the other times either."

Hermione's eyes crossed in frustration.

"We can't do this, Malfoy. I wasn't aware that I'm the only one seeing to your sexual needs, but honestly, I can't let that be my problem. You are supposed to marry another woman, remember? One who already hates me."

"As though I want to," he grumbled, peppering her neck with kisses despite their conversation, "And stop trying to distract me. Tell me why I decided to get a tattoo. I'm not a fucking idiot Granger."

"As though only idiots get tattoos?"

"It takes up my entire back," Malfoy retorted, "Or did you forget? Half my body is now covered with silver ink! I've never had any inclination to get a tattoo before. Other than briefly considering something to cover the Dark Mark on my arm a few years ago."

Hermione glance at the sight where his Dark Mark had been. It was faded like a red scar now, rather than black with ink or magic – whatever had been used to create it. She suspected magic. A mutilation of the wedding bond, actually.

"How should I know Malfoy? The fact is that you got a tattoo. Get over it."

"What else happened? There's no way the artist could do such a design in one night."

"It's a magical tattoo, Malfoy," Hermione rolled her eyes, though he couldn't see it. "It only took an hour. The rest of the night was spent engaging in debauchery with me. Again."

"Why did I take you to the Manor?" he asked suspiciously and Hermione suspected he didn't believe her story.

"How should I know? Maybe because your bed is nicer than some sleazy hotel?"

Hermione wriggled in his grip until he let her up. She fished her knickers and his belt from the floor, donning the knickers again before turning to him and handing him his belt. He looked well shagged where he sat. His cheeks were flushed pink with exertion and his trousers were undone. He'd tucked himself back inside but hadn't re-buttoned them. His shirt was crumpled from where she'd reclined against him too.

"You need to go home," she informed him when he took the belt from her hand.

"I'm not finished with you yet," he replied, dropping the belt back onto the floor and snagging her hands before pulling her back down onto him, this time with her straddling his lap. She sighed when he nuzzled back into her neck, nipping along her collarbone and peppering her soft flesh with love-bites.

Knowing she really ought not to encourage him, but unable to resist, Hermione sank her hands into his silky blonde hair once more, stretching her neck to give him better access. He continued his ministrations over her chest and Hermione groaned when he nosed aside the loose-fitting neckline of her tank-top and pulled her bra aside to get at her right nipple. He laved it with his tongue and Hermione whimpered before he drew the pebbled peak into his mouth. Sparkles exploded behind her eyelids as he sucked her hard into his mouth, hard enough to mark her skin.

Hermione's eyes flew open when he reached to free her left breast too, knowing he would see her tattoo if she let him do it. Catching his hand, Hermione leaned away from him.

"You need to go," she told him firmly, tucking herself back into her shirt, "Go home, Malfoy."

"Now who's the tease?" he asked her, his eyes stormy with desire.

"I am. Deal with it. We can't keep doing this," she informed him primly, trying to keep her head when she wiggled on his lap as she tried to get free and only managed to grind on his rapidly hardening erection again.

"We've already done this today," he replied, pulling her back in for more as he reached for her lips with his own, "What's one more round?"

She hated herself for her weakness when she let him talk her into it. His hand under her skirt freed his cock from his trousers once more and he slid her knickers to the side before guiding her back down on him slowly. Hermione's head tipped back as she gave in to the urge to ride him, slow and easy in her office chair. When his hands slipped under the hem of her shirt and glided over her hips to settle on her ribs, Hermione saw stars.

The feeling of him touching her tattoo was like divine pleasure. He felt it too, she could tell. Unable to resist, Hermione peeled him out of the muscle-shirt he still wore, leaving his chest bare to her gaze. The sight of his tattoo, so bright against his pale skin, drew her attention immediately and before she could think better of it, Hermione rounded her spine and ducked her head to tongue at his left nipple and at the tattooed flesh hungrily. She lost her breath at the feel of doing so. It was like every place their bodies touched came alive as they touched the marks they'd left upon one another.

Malfoy's breath hitched and he drove up into her harder, not increasing the speed, just the power of the thrust as she rode him to sweet release. He came moments after her when she slipped back into the pleasurable abyss, sighing her name as though she were a goddess he revered. He captured her lips with his, kissing her slowly, softly. Hermione felt like she could never have enough of him as she curled into his embrace and let him kiss her until she wasn't sure of her own name.

"This can't become a habit," she told him what felt like hours later.

"Bit late for that, Granger," he chuckled softly, seeming as contented and at peace as Hermione felt herself.

"I mean, you can't be coming here after work every night, bringing food and eating with me before shagging me. We're supposed to be pretending we've never shagged. Your father is already suspicious. I know he is. I saw him sniffing around my department earlier this afternoon."

"Fucking bastard," Draco grumbled, though he seemed unable to rouse any real anger over the idea.

"We're supposed to be keeping this professional, remember?" Hermione asked him.

"I can be professional and still fuck you," he informed her.

"No you can't. This needs to stop Malfoy. You know it does."

"I don't see why," he informed her, "You're currently single. I want to be. And we have the added benefit of the legitimate excuse that we have to work late. We should be making the most of this."

"And I'm sure we would be, if not for your father," Hermione replied softly, knowing it was true. Knowing she was considering keeping on with it anyway, despite the threat Lucius posed.

"I've never wanted to kill that man before now," Draco informed her quietly even as he lifted her from his lap and made to stand, clearly realising it would just turn into another argument. The clock on her desk also proclaimed that it was now after ten at night. He needed to get home.

"What are you going to tell them you were doing all night?" Hermione wanted to know, "They'll have come looking for you by now."

Malfoy shrugged his shoulders, "Tell them I was out drinking, rather than at home drinking where they could lecture me."

Hermione nodded her head, waving her wand at the food.

"Do you want any of this?" she asked him as the boxes folded themselves all back up.

"No, you take it," he nodded at her, "Might as well keep you well-fed until that antivenin wears off, since I can't continue to keep you well fucked too."

He sounded annoyed about the idea.

Hermione smiled in spite of herself. She glanced up at his face and found that he was pouting. He was entirely too adorable when he pouted like that.

"Don't forget to change back into your regular robes. I don't imagine it would be wise to let your parents see your tattoo. Or that love bite," she pointed to the mark she'd left on his neck.

He smirked as he rubbed his hand over it. Hermione watched as he strolled over to her fireplace, no doubt intending to Floo back to his office to get his clothing. He stopped when he had the powder in his hand, poised to leave.

"See you tomorrow Granger."