Draco had to take a moment to collect himself as she tenderly stroked his jaw. He could feel his eye color change, the blood thundering through his veins so rapidly he could hear it when he gritted his teeth and swayed on his feet. This wasn't fair, it wasn't right, because she didn't know what she was committing to. Surrendering herself fulfilled a bargain she knew nothing of and he refused to take advantage of her ignorance. If he did this without her full consent, knowledgeable consent… she would never forgive him, and he would lose her forever. Damn him for not telling her sooner and avoiding this whole ordeal. He could have had her in his bed long ago had he just told her what he was, who she was to him, but he had chosen to run instead.
He took a few deep breaths and focused on calming the riotous voice in his head that screamed for him to take what was his, to claim her and mark her as his own. She had offered herself on full display, made her claim on him as she choked out his name and branded his heart with her iron will. Denying her was the most difficult thing he had ever done. It took an immeasurable amount of self-control not to fulfill every last fantasy he'd had of her, please her until she begged for him to relent, left completely spent in his arms.
"Please, Draco." She softly plead with him, her dainty hands trailing over his shoulders and down his chest. When she tentatively tucked her thumbs in the open waist of his trousers he knew there was no getting out of it. He'd have to give her something, anything to make her happy, but maybe he could convince her to wait, just a little longer until he found a way to reveal everything she would need to know without jarring and embarrassing her.
He gave a shaky exhale and opened his eyes only to dive into a molten pool of copper when he met her hooded gaze. He took her tiny wrists in his hands and wrapped them around his neck, bringing her ever closer as his lips softly ghosted over hers. He palmed the back of her thighs and lifted her using the upward motion to firmly press his mouth against hers in a demanding kiss. His heightened senses felt every part of her from her luscious thighs wrapped around the deep V of his hips to her petal-soft lips yielding to his. Her dainty fingers gently tugged the locks at the nape of his neck and the gentle swell of her breasts firmly pressed against his chest through the fluffy cotton towel.
A low growl escaped him when she ever so gently sucked at his bottom lip, releasing it with a small pop. In turn he plundered her mouth, seeking out every point of pleasure he could find, nipping her lips and stroking her tongue with his as he carried her to his bed.
He only parted from her once she was spread out beneath him, eyes smoldering as she panted, clutching her towel in place. "You've no idea how long I've waited to hear you say that, little witch, and now that you have I refuse to let you go. I want to spend every night for the next week exploring new ways to make you come undone, to please you in ways you've never known until you finally beg me to take you. Then and only then will I give you what you've asked for." She was shivering under the intensity of his gaze and it thrilled part of him to know he had such an effect on her. "Do you understand, love?"
She visibly swallowed and nodded, seemingly unable to form the words she needed. He suddenly had the idea to finish what he started on the pitch, and it ignited his need to taste her again. A low growl escaped his lips and he closed his eyes once again. It was increasingly difficult to control himself and as much as he loved the feel of her so willingly beneath him, he wasn't sure he could resist if she were completely bare to him after what she had proposed. She would have to trust what he was about to say.
"Will you do as I say Hermione?" He opened his eyes and watched as she hesitated, gripping her towel a bit tighter. "Trust me, Little Witch." He leaned forward on his elbows, sweeping his lips across hers in a gentle barely-there kiss. The tension seemed to leave her then, her manicured fingernails loosening from their claw like stance as she inhaled softly and dipped her head in agreement "I trust you."
He lowered his mouth to the hand so carefully coveting her towel and glanced through his thick lashes to meet her eyes. "Don't let go."
With that he slid his arms beneath her and deftly switched their positions, settling his chest between her legs. He suppressed a moan when he felt the heat pouring off her core and across his abdomen, hastily reminding himself that relief of this torture was in sight if he could wait only a few more moments. He looked up at her with what were no doubt ever darkening grey irises as her damp curls fell forward to frame her perfectly angular face. He took her free hand in his and kissed each one of her knuckles in turn before guiding it to the top of the padded white leather headboard and she seemed to genuinely appreciate the extra support.
He widened the angle of her lowered stance, carefully severing her anxious hold around his rips so that he may slip further down the mattress. "Lift your bottom just a bit." And she did, craning her neck to watch as he virtually disappeared between her legs, gasping slightly as the hem of her towel was lifted by his now invisible hands. He couldn't help but laugh with a deep rumble and a bit of mirth shining in his eyes. He slowly slid his slender fingers around her hips, helping to stabilize her, lowering her until he could feel goosebumps rise as his hot breath tickled her sensitive skin. He kissed the creamy expansive flesh of her inner thighs, nipping gently before peering up to find her eyes closed, lip being worried between her perfectly polished teeth. He couldn't have that, now could he.
"Look at me." He murmured, placing another kiss to her inner thigh. When she didn't comply, he spoke again. "Look at me!" he insisted, with a firm tone.
The moment Hermione opened her eyes and looked down to see Draco Malfoys charcoal grey irises tucked between her legs she felt an instant connection that sent a violent shiver down her spine, and a warm, experienced tongue straight to her core. The two intensities met in the pit of her stomach and it felt as if fiendfyre were swirling in her veins. She didn't even hear her initial cry as the sensation blocked out everything, her vision blurred, her ears rang, and her lungs clenched from the force of her exhalation. Her nails dug tiny crescents into the headboard and the threads of her towel groaned under the force of her grip. This was nothing like the pitch, this was madness, this was love, this was pleasure beyond anything she'd ever known, just as he had promised. She wanted so badly to ask what he had done differently, what spell he had used, what potion he'd slipped her to cause such intensity, but she couldn't bring herself to do much more than whimper and moan under his attentions as her newly heightened senses flooded back to her.
His tongue rolled, undulated, swept and writhed across her core until she was positively soaked with her own pleasure. Her thighs tensed around his head only to be forced apart by the strength of his hands and she was sure that she'd have bruises by the end of it all. When he closed his mouth around her, she cried out, his tongue flicking wildly across the small bundle of nerves at her apex until she built to the edge of the precipice only for him to release her with a resounding 'pop'. When she whimpered in discontent, thighs trembling, and breath ragged she looked down to see him staring up at her with a mix of mischief, adoration, and overwhelming lust. He looked like a man, possessed, at the mercy of his basest desires and it brought out her own in a barely audible plea for release…
"Please.." and he groaned deep in his throat, the sound reverberating across her tender folds, making her quiver in expectancy. He screwed his eyes shut and slowly drew another whimper from her with a single languorous lap of his tongue. Again and again, he drug out the sensation until she was sure she would collapse but his solid grip on the swell of her hips kept her firmly held in place no matter how she swayed and squirmed trying to find her release from the tiniest amount of extra friction.
He lead her to the precipice three more times before he relented, spearing her with his tongue and clasping her hips roughly as she begged him openly to end her torture. Her voice was choked and ragged and her throat felt impossibly dry as she called out the broken words. Suddenly she was filled, two long digits pressed and curled to her inner wall, stroking again and again until she felt her muscles involuntarily clench and spasm around them while is tongue unrelentingly fluttered against her clit.
She came in a burst of light and screamed out his name in what felt like a never-ending cycle of pleasure that bordered on pain. The last thing she heard before everything went black was a triumphant and predatory growl, like a wild animal that had made the kill of its life. The odd thing was, it didn't scare her in the slightest but instead settled as a distinct warmth in her chest.
She slipped into darkness and dreamt of a roaring fire and hot cup of tea, the warmth spreading throughout her aching muscles, soothing her throat and drying her hair into ringlets as she smiled into the flames. She felt so at ease, so relaxed here with the barely audible purr of the flames and her contented sigh the only noise to be found.
Hermione woke the next morning, in her silk nightgown, curled into the chest of a softly snoring dragon. One arm was wrapped possessively over her hip and the other tucked beneath his platinum locks as she lay with her head on his chest listening to his heart beat slow and soft beneath her. Their legs were tangled and when she attempted to move her whole body protested in a wave of soreness that had her hissing through her teeth. She didn't think much of it when his hand tensed at her side until she heard the snoring stop and his chest rose in a deep breath.
"I had a feeling you'd be sore this morning." His eyes were impossibly soft when he tilted her chin to kiss the side of her mouth. All the intensity of the previous night had faded and it felt as if they'd been doing this for centuries. Something niggled at her that it shouldn't be this way, that they'd hardly been together for more than a few days but the thought was quashed as he stroked her cheek with a featherlight caress of his thumb.
"This should help," he stretched to the nightstand and palmed a small vial of swirling silver liquid reminiscent of unicorn blood. "I promise its not what it seems." He chuckled, uncorking it with his thumb for her to drink. " It's a very common potion made by the shaman of northern Sudan. It'll help with the soreness and the fatigue, I've even tried it myself."
She took it from him and drank it slowly, surprised by its lack of bitterness other medicinal potions were known for. This one held a sticky texture and floral scent that she couldn't place. "It's made from the sap of a flowering vine that only blossoms once every twenty years during the first full moon of their summer solstice. It was a gift from my last trip there." His thumb stroked soothing circles on her bare shoulder and she hummed contentedly as the potion began to work its way through her stiff legs and arms all the way to the tips of her fingers and toes.
He had mentioned his business dealings and said that he traveled quite often for work, but she had no idea just how many places he'd been or how many connections he'd made in the time he'd spent away from his parents. From what she understood he conducted business in a rather backwards manner from the way his father had taught him, befriending clients instead of bulldogging them, gaining their trust and respect rather than their fear. It was wonderful to see that Draco's harsh upbringing had some kind of upside to it, though she knew it came at a heavy price.
Her thoughts began to wander to more recent events, question after question popping into her head then brought swiftly out of them by an unexpected noise. Draco had fallen asleep again, this time turned on his side, slowly inhaling and exhaling through his barely parted lips. He looked so innocent and young when he slept, and she was tempted to brush the hair out of his eyes, just to revel in the softness of his skin but she couldn't bear to wake him just yet. She decided instead to scour the kitchen to make a proper cup of tea and a pot of coffee for them, knowing that he was bound to be cranky without it. When they lived in the heads dorm together she remembered waking up most mornings to the smell of freshly brewed coffee and hot buttered toast coming from the common area. On the rare occasion that she didn't, Draco had either overslept and spent the rest of the morning waking up slowly and crankily without the aid of caffeine or was sick in bed and that usually only happened after a trip to the manor. Looking back on it, holidays, home visits and summons back to the manner took an enormous toll on Draco's health and it made her heart clench to think of what he must have endured during those trips back to that depressing place.
Shaking the thought from her head she slowly sat up and slid to the edge of the bed, expecting to cringe when her feet hit the cold tile, yet found it to be perfectly warm beneath the soles of her feet. Whether it was a heating charm or Radiant Tile she didn't know but greatly appreciated it either way. The silk of her nightgown was cool against her skin though the air was quite temperate in Malfoys flat and it raised slight goosebumps across her body. The knee length material was slit to mid thigh on both sides for ease of movement and she was thankful for the modest length as it seemed Draco had forgone knickers when he dressed her last night. As she walked down the hallway she gently combed her fingers through her riotous curls and found that they had dried mostly flat in the night and weren't too frizzy. She felt oddly….feminine, today.
When she reached the kitchen she rifled through the cupboards as quietly as possible, not wanting to wake him with an abundance of noise and an empty bed. She could only imagine how he would react to that. In the cabinet above the sink she found all the makings of a perfect cup of earl grey and a glass jar of something that smelled dark, rich and sultry like recently ground espresso. She nicked her wand from the dining table and started the espresso with a touch of magic and prepared the tea by hand. She found that it tasted better done the muggle way and oddly enough a lot of the wizarding community agreed with her.
She poured herself a steaming cup of tea adding only a splash of cream and single sugar cube to top it off. She often needed the extra sugar to wake up in the morning and the cream helped smooth the bitter edge of a hastily made cup. When she checked the espresso, her magic had outdone her, a latte fit for a high-end bistro sat on the counter next to the tidied machine. She took a few minutes to sit at the bar enjoying the quiet as she sipped at her mug, the tea warming her from the inside out and felt a bit of deja-vu . After the cup was emptied and washed she took the latte and saucer in hand, padding through the flat to wake Draco and hopefully get some answers to the ever-persistent questions bubbling to the front of her mind.
Halfway through the short trek a certain handsome and disheveled wizard appeared in the doorway to the master bedroom, arms locked above his head, stretching in a very feline way that brought his muscles into tight focus. She was momentarily stunned by the shimmering pallor of his skin in the mid-morning sun, the rays of light highlighting his platinum hair with a dozen shades of gold and copper, biceps and shoulders bunched around his neck, pectorals and abs drawn together from the curve of his spine. When his eyes slid open and settled on her, they were a bright tumultuous grey that visibly shifted around his pupils like molten silver. Her mouth went dry, and the telltale warmth of desire pooled deep in her belly. She barely noticed that her hands were trembling. He cocked his head and with a raised eyebrow gave a small smile, approaching her with a predatory lope, only to pilfer the mug and saucer from her hand taking a sip of the latte with an appreciative groan before setting it on the side table near the couch.
She stood completely frozen, it was impossible for a man to move so fluidly and pruriently, like an animal lurked beneath his skin. If she wasn't so sure of him she would have thought he was a werewolf or vampire by the way he moved. She pushed the ridiculous thought aside as he nuzzled her neck affectionately, trailing his fingers down her side.
"Why didn't you wake me? I would have happily made you breakfast in bed." He murmured just below her ear, sending a delicious shiver down her spine. Kissing her neck as he lingered in her peripheral, inching closer to her back, until he enveloped her from behind. His embrace was so warm and comforting yet at the same time alluring.
"I've never known you to sleep so soundly. I didn't want to wake you until the last possible moment… plus you turn into an absolute git when you don't have your morning coffee if what I remember from our seventh year still holds true." Her breath hitched when he nibbled her earlobe, and she had to fight hard to keep her composure when a low and sultry laugh rumbled through his chest.
Draco's arms snaked around her as he spoke, pressing her tightly to his chest while his lips worked across her neck and shoulder in a way that made her hips twist and thighs rub together.
"After last nights events, how could I be anything but pleased with you?" Merlin, he was practically purring against her skin, and his silk pajama bottoms did little to conceal his obvious desire as it pressed into her backside. "Up for more carnal exploration this morning, little witch?"
The words were stuck in her throat until they relinquished themselves with an undignified moan as his pearly white teeth gently sank into the sensitive spot between her neck and shoulder.
The next gasp to be heard, however, didn't belong to the witch in Draco's embrace…