Everyone's been so sweet to me, even when I had to take a small hiatus. I'm pleased to announce #TangoTuesday is back in session! Beta love to LondonsLegend!

~A.

"We should take this back to my place"
That's what she said right to my face
'Cause I want you bad
Yeah, I want you, baby
I've been thinking 'bout it all day
And I hope you feel the same way, yeah
'Cause I want you bad
Yeah, I want you, baby

Slow, slow hands
Like sweat dripping down our dirty laundry
No, no chance
That I'm leaving here without you on me

"Slow Hands" by Niall Horan

Center Stage: Hermione and Draco

Setting: Hermione's Apartment Complex

They landed with a pop in the back alley of Hermione's apartment building, fingers twisted in each other's clothing and tongues meeting - a complete mess of hormones. Draco felt Hermione giggle against his mouth when he nearly tripped over his own feet as they arrived, but it didn't stop him from curling a sure hand around her waist, drunk not on ale but on the way she kissed him.

Merlin, how long had he wanted this, right here? To touch and be touched by Hermione Granger, to feel every inch of her pressed against him? Far too long. And now that it was a reality, all he could do was go with the flow, so to speak, and try not to make a bloody fool of himself.

"So...about this dessert," he whispered between kisses.

Hermione pulled away from his lips long enough to say, "Follow me," before taking his hand and leading him out of the alleyway and forcing them to walk into the building the muggle way. Draco hated it; every slow step put his nerves into a frenzy, and he wished to simply Apparate into her apartment before he was left a puddle of anxiousness on the floor. However, that sort of option was ruled out by the fact that muggles lived in this building, and any bit of magic would send them screaming down the stairs in a fit of confusion. Dolts, he thought. The lot of them.

When they arrived at the elevator, Draco felt his hands begin to sweat, so he feigned a yawn as an excuse to pry his hand from hers and casually wipe it down the back of his trousers. They waited for two sets of people to step off the elevator before Hermione dragged him in by his wrist and pressed him up against the elevator wall just as the door dinged shut.

"Hello," she said.

Draco smirked. "Hello. Not having second thoughts, are we?"

Hermione blinked once, rather serious. "No. Are you?"

"What?" He frowned. "Why would I?"

"Well, I'm just making sure."

The mood was doused out like candlelight. Draco grumbled as the elevator dinged back open and let three others onto the lift. Sighing, he ran his hands through his hair and watched Hermione straighten her stance and lean against the wall beside him, hands crossed over her front idly: the epitome of proper posture. Great. Now things were awkward. How the Hell was he supposed to come back from this?

Ding.

"That's us," Hermione said, glancing up at him. "Coming?"

"Preferably more than once this evening," he teased, making her blush bright crimson as they stepped out of the lift and into the hallway. Onward they went until they arrived in front of her door. Draco didn't let her reach for her keys - he simply snapped his fingers, unlocked her door, and pushed it open with a wink. "Are you coming?" he asked, noting the way she stood stalk-still in the hallway.

Hermione cleared her throat, brushed her fingers through her curls, and muttered, "Preferably more than once this evening," right back to him before breezing past him in a hurry.

Oh, it's on, he thought, stepping across the threshold and shutting the door.

But, just like minutes before, his confidence waned the moment they were alone. Blast it, how in the seven Hells could Hermione Granger make him nervous like a sodding virginal school boy? She was a woman, and Draco had had women. So what was it?

Maybe it was the innocence in her eyes, or the way her lashes batted so delicately over her eyes, or the insecure stance she took as she walked over to the kitchen, poured herself a glass of water, and chugged it down in five seconds flat.

"Alright?" he asked.

"Hmm? Mhmm," she nodded, wiping at the corners of her lips. "Yourself?"

"Fantastic."

"Wonderful."

The two stood awkwardly.

Shit. It was like every strategy went out the window in her presence. They both knew what they wanted to happen, but how would he get them there? It certainly wasn't by gawking at her from the other side of the room.

"So-" A shrill alarm blared from somewhere nearby, and Draco withdrew his wand in a sweeping motion, quick as a lightning strike.

"Oh, that's my phone!" Hermione exclaimed, jogging over to the wall near the countertop, where a peculiar looking white box with a curved handle attached to a spiral cord rested at eye level. He watched her pry the handle off of the box and put it to her ear and mouth. "Hello?"

Wait...Draco vaguely remembered this from those odd muggle oddity shops in Diagon Alley. Muggles spoke to each other with those things, didn't they?

"Mum!" Hermione glanced over at Draco, mouthing the word, 'Sorry!' - "No, Mum, I'm fine. Yes, I know I didn't call last night...well, I was a bit busy…" She coiled the cord around her finger, leaning against the wall and turning her head away. "Yes, I know it's your birthday next week...no, I wasn't going to forget to call you then…" She sighed, a look of agitation crossing her features.

No, this wouldn't do it all - but maybe for a distraction? Draco might be able to work with this.

As Hermione continued to speak to her mother through that odd muggle thing known as a 'phone', he removed his blazer, set it on the counter, and began undoing the cuffs of his shirt. When he was through, he pretended to look about the room while making his way up behind her. Carefully, he brushed her curls off to one shoulder, exposing her neck as one of his hands snaked around her waist and rested against her belly button.

Hermione stiffened against him, but she continued to listen to her mother's nagging.

Draco smirked, for once thankful for nagging mothers as he dipped his head and rested a sensual kiss just below Hermione's ear. To his delight, she responded with a sharp intake of breath, fingers gripping the phone cord and tugging it tight. Yes, he could definitely work with this…

"No, mum, I'm not avoiding yo-" Hermione cut herself off when Draco licked a line with his tongue down the length of her neck, pulling her back against his chest. He finished with a small nibble at the exposed skin of her shoulder before trailing back up with delicate kisses to her ear. "C-Can I call you back?" He nipped at her earlobe with his teeth. "Mm-Mum, I need to call you back." She slammed the handle back against the box, tilting her head further to the side. "You have no self-control, do you?"

"Of course, I do," he chuckled. "I haven't ripped your clothes off yet, have I?"

"If you ripped this shirt, I would be thoroughly miffed at you."

"Ooh, I bet you'd teach me a lesson." He was just about to press his lips to her neck again when Hermione suddenly veered out of his grasp, spun around, and pointed a finger at him.

"Wait."

Draco sighed. "What now?"

"Well," she paused. "I think we should...discuss...things."

"Like?"

"Like...what all of this means. What dessert means to you. Because…" She puffed out her chest slightly. "I'm not a one-stop candy shop."

He tried his best not to snort with laughter as he rolled his eyes. "Hermione, come here." He reached out and took her by the hand. "You're really making me work for this, aren't you?" he asked as he led her out of the kitchen and into her quaint living room.

"Yes, well...I like to know all of the variables."

"Mhmm," he nodded, smirking. He remembered that the last time he was here, Hermione showed him how a record player worked. Tonight, he left Hermione just short of the sofa, strolled over to said record player, and with a flick of his wand set the needle onto the record already inside. The music was lively, upbeat jazz, but Draco didn't care. He could work with just about anything. He made his way back over to the sofa and took a seat. "Come here."

"Pardon?"

"I'm fairly certain you're not hard of hearing." He patted his lap. "Come here."

"I-I-" But he didn't give her a chance, using a slight bit of wandless magic to drag her forward and nearly collapse into his lap, legs splayed on either side of his hips and arms caging his face as her fingers dug into the headrest of the sofa. His smirk widened at the scathing expression on her face.

"You're not a...what was it?" He reached up, brushing the back of his fingers down her cheek. "One stop candy shop? Whatever that means."

"Then what am I to you?" she asked, eyes twinkling.

"You're Granger." When she scowled, he added, "My Granger." He moved his fingers down to her hips and pulled her forward, until their pelvises rested against each other. "And I don't share what's mine. More importantly, I don't stray from what's mine." His thumb pads brushed along the skin just underneath her shirt. "Does that answer suffice?"

Hermione nodded timidly.

"Good. Now, can I have my dessert? Or have I not been good enough?"

The smallest of smiles trailed over the corners of her lips, and she leaned forward, tucking her face into the crook of his neck to plant kiss after tender kiss up his neck, her fingers moving to the buttons of his shirt. Oh yes, this would do just nicely. Draco let her take her time, working every button with careful attention. He didn't want to push the envelope and spook her - Merlin knows how long it would take him to get back in her good graces again if he did that, so he let her set the pace, though his fingers twitched at the opportunity to respond.

When the last button of his shirt was undone, Draco helped her slip the sleeves down his arms, but he paused momentarily at his forearms, hesitating only a moment. But the look in Hermione's eyes was kind, and he let her push the sleeves all the way down and over his wrists, exposing the scarred remains of his Dark Mark.

No, it wasn't the first time she'd seen it. There had been plenty of time for her to get a gander at his greatest shame, but he'd never willingly exposed himself like this to her. Hermione, as if sensing his apprehension, wrapped her slender fingers around his wrist and brought his arm up between their gazes. Their eyes connected, and she didn't break her stare for one moment as she began to kiss down his Mark over and over again, moving from his elbow toward his wrist.

Draco gasped, partially out of shock, partially because it felt so...good. He didn't want to think about Astoria, not now, but he did make the connection that she'd never kissed him like this - not on his Mark.

He fought the urge to bite his lower lip like a sissy and instead reached up with his free hand and tucked a strand of Hermione's curly hair behind her ear just before she began lapping at his Mark with her tongue.

"Oh, fucking Merlin," he gasped, stunned.

"Scars are sensitive," she whispered, a confidence about her that wasn't there before. "Most people consider it a bad thing, but…"

"Keep going," he encouraged with a raspy voice. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back while Hermione returned to her work, tracing the marred snake and skull with that surprisingly skillful tongue of hers. This was so different, and yet…Draco loved it. Loved the intimacy of it.

Her lips kept moving along their path, finally making it to his wrist, where she kissed along his pulse point before leaving a few softer ones on his palm. Draco cupped her face and ushered it forward until their noses touched. The music changed to a slower song with a melting tempo, matching their moods.

Hermione reached up to his hand and guided it down to her waist, along with the other one, hinting. It didn't take him long to figure it out as he pushed the fabric of her shirt up her stomach, revealing the smooth skin there. His hormones rejoiced as she lifted her arms and let him pry the offending garment from over her head, his senses heightening. Draco's eyes immediately raked down her throat, collarbone, to her breasts, covered in just a thin strap of lace called a 'bra'. Draco understood a bra's purpose, but as a man, he found them entirely unnecessary. Still, he could appreciate this one with its barely-there padding. No teases, just the good stuff. And it was red.

He said not a word as he watched her reach behind her and unhook the back of it - only enjoyed the slow reveal of her tantalizing breasts as they were revealed. Everything about Hermione's breasts, from her small but pert nipples to the way they rose and fell with her breathing was something to be admired.

Draco wasted no time in reaching up to feel them, cup them; finally, after all this time, he could do what he wanted. His thumbs rubbed over her hardening nipples, and he scooted forward, eyeing her carefully before capturing one in his mouth. Her skin tasted delightful, and she smelled of apples and vanilla. Draco took his time, laving his tongue over the nub as he worked his other hand in gentle, kneading motions.

Hermione moaned softly above him, her hips rocking automatically.

"Yes," she sighed, her fingers wrapping into the locks at the back of his head, pulling his face closer, encouraging him to suck harder. He flicked his tongue, reveling in the way she sighed, as if only he could make her feel this way. And in reality, Draco wished that was the case. He wasn't entirely sure when or how it happened, but Hermione Granger was as iconically ingrained in his life as snow in the winter or tea to Britain.

And, like this, she was twice as beautiful as he'd ever seen her.

His hips began to rock gently with hers, his cock strained inside his trousers. But the friction they created was worth it - there was something so exciting about the new exploration of sex with someone, and he wondered if she was loud or soft? A leader or a follower? Did she like it rough, being pounded from behind, or was she traditional, arching her back as she rode him? What was Hermione Granger like in bed? Draco really wanted to know.

Soon, their mouths met again, and when they did, a sensual side of Hermione came out to play. Her fingers began to explore his chest, shoulders, abdomen, anywhere she could touch. Each stroke of her fingertips against his skin lit him from inside, charging his sexual energy like static electricity. He could hardly contain himself when she began working at his trouser fasten, expertly unhooking it with ease.

"Eager much?" he teased.

"As if you're not enjoying it," she replied coyly.

"Beautiful girl trying to get me starkers. What's not to enjoy? Though it does feel one sided." He rolled his hips up, grinding against her. "Wouldn't you agree?"

"Which one of us should I be focusing on undressing? You can't eat your cake and have it, too, Draco." She giggled.

"Isn't the expression have your cake and eat it, too?"

"Actually, no. People have just been saying it wrong for centuries." Hermione nodded dutifully, as if an educational lesson was commonplace when trying to discard clothing.

"Ever the bookworm, aren't you?" he teased. "Alright then. You first. What sort of skivvies does the famous Hermione Granger wear?"

She quirked an eyebrow. "You really want to know?"

He nodded. "Please."

Slowly, Hermione pushed herself up off of the sofa and stood in front of him, reaching for the button of her jeans. Draco waited, taking her in, thinking to himself how wonderful she would look drizzled in chocolate syrup and sprinkles. One step at a time, he told himself, watching her shimmy her jeans down the sides of her hips. Much to Draco's astonishment -

"You see, Draco," she said, "the famous Hermione Granger wears no skivvies."

She was bare, and beautiful, and entirely too perfect for words, which escaped Draco like sand dripping through an hourglass. He did manage one word. "Fuck."

Hermione climbed back onto his lap, this time guiding his hand between her thighs to the place he'd longed to touch for months. If Draco thought he was hard before, it was nothing compared to now. "So wet already," he noted, letting his index finger slip between her folds. The heat alone had his dick aching to be inside her, but she was also dripping, which in turn had his cock leaking with precum.

Hermione was already tugging down the zipper of his trousers by now, glazed with an expression of lust. At the same time that she untucked his cock, Draco slipped a finger inside of her. Warm didn't begin to describe her quim - scorching, perhaps. He felt her constrict around his digit, watched the rise and fall of her chest and the way she chewed on her lower lip in eagerness. "Draco…"

Unhurriedly, he withdrew his finger and then filled her back up again, smirking as her eyes fluttered closed. This time, he curled it slightly and found the spot that made her gasp in pleasure.

"Is that it?" He leaned up and whispered against her throat. "Imagine my cock in you, hitting this spot over," he curled his finger again, pushing deeper and making her all-out moan, "and over again. I bet your pussy would be gushing for me by then, wouldn't it?" He added a second finger, stretching her further and preparing her for what was to come.

"A-Ah!" Hermione's forehead rested against his shoulder as her hips moved in time with his fingers.

"I can tell it's been a while," he said. "You're so tight."

Hermione's hips bucked forward automatically, her lips caressing anywhere they could manage between groans and gasps, and then - oh fuck. Her fingers curled around his cock, and she began to move, pumping him with just enough grip to falter his concentration. She used his precum to lubricate her palm, paying careful attention to the head of his cock. Draco was on cloud nine, lazily fingering her while she jerked him off. It was even better because they took their time, exploring each other's pleasure points, neither one with the goal in mind to get off, simply feel good.

Draco knew when the time was right - Hermione's legs were quivering around his hips, her lower lip caught between her teeth. She looked beautiful like this, but he wanted to make her feel beautiful, too. And while he wasn't good with words, there was one way he knew how to express himself.

"Ready for dessert?" he whispered.

Hermione nodded, sighing gently when he removed his fingers. Draco let her scoot forward, hovering just above his cock, both nervous and excited. First times weren't perfect - they were awkward and nerve wracking, but as far as Draco was concerned, this was as close as he could manage. He didn't remember being this nervous, even when losing his v-card, but it made the sensation that much sweeter when Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck and filled herself to the brim with him.

"Fuck…"

"Hermione Granger uses foul language?" he managed, trying to distract himself from the cozy haven that was inside her pulsing quim.

"Mmm...that's not the only thing I do," she whispered, pulling off of him to the tip before dropping down on him again. Tight. So tight. Draco groaned, a wisp of bangs falling out of place against his forehead.

"Merlin." Draco chewed on the inside of his cheek and prepared himself as she repeated the motion, slower. "Ohh…"

"Draco Malfoy moans?"

The shallowest of smirks played across his lips. "What is it you said?" He jerked his hips up, taking her by surprise and forcing a cry of pleasure from her lips. "That's not the only thing I can do."

"S-Something like that."

Their hips moved with each other, building up an offbeat rhythm, experiencing each other's highs and lows, testing the water. Draco discovered Hermione loved it when he jerked his hips, and she figured out that dropping herself quickly onto his cock turned him into a wobbling mess of nerves. She liked having her nipples pinched, and he loved the way she suckled along his pulse point, leaving bruises.

And, above all else, they both loved moving in time with the music. Each rise and fall of the tempo commanded their bodies - every crescendo, every diminuendo took control of how they kissed, touched, and reacted to each other.

During a particularly chaotic song, Draco scooped her up, flipped her over, and began pounding into her from behind over the armrest of the sofa, causing it to scrape along her carpet until it bumped into her side table. Neither seemed to care; Hermione was too busy screaming into the cushion, and Draco was occupied trying not to come inside her. To be honest, if he hadn't given himself a good wank earlier in the day, there would be no way he'd have been able to last as long as he had so far. But he knew he didn't have much willsave left, so when the tempo changed to something slower, he pulled her back down on top of him on the carpet, knocking over an empty cup and a couple of magazines from the coffee table in the process. His ankle was to blame, and he felt it already beginning to bruise as he pushed past the pain and concentrated his efforts on making her come.

Hermione was a natural on top, and the view of her breasts as she bounced had Draco pinching the inside of his thigh, straining every bit of willpower he had. "S-Slow down," he muttered, "Or I'm gonna…"

She giggled, leaning forward, indeed slowing down, but only ever so slightly. "Been a while for you, too?"

To save face, he forced a smirk on his face, grabbed her hips, and thrust roughly up into her, making her scream. "Ooh, lookie there. Not as out for the count as you thought."

"Again," she whispered, digging her fingernails into his pectorals.

Draco was happy to oblige. The moan coaxed from her throat was music to his ears - the neighbors might not appreciate it, but who had time for silencing spells when they had such a sexy delight riding them? Maybe the neighbors could learn a thing or two…It wasn't long until Hermione was a panting mess above him. And truth be told, Draco wasn't much better.

Something overcame him, and he leaned up on his elbows, pressing their foreheads together. He knew it wasn't in his best interest, and it took a lot of concentration, but he needed to know what was going on in her mind. Using his Legilimency, he pushed against the forefront of her mind and breached it.

Pleasure. Merlin, she was a wreck inside her mind. She could barely comprehend thoughts, but the feelings…

"Draco…"

He pushed further, searching for one memory in particular and drawing it out for the both of them to see. It was Hermione's dessert dream from that night with her splayed in front of him and Draco feasting between her thighs like she was the main course.

"This...this is…" Hermione gasped, caught somewhere between shock and satisfaction. "H-How do you know about…"

"Slight confession," he muttered between thrusts, "I might jack off to this dream in the shower every morning."

"F-Fuck."

She crumbled and came apart like a freshly baked sugar cookie, a quivering mess of moans.

Draco didn't hold back - the way she tightened around him forced him over the edge, and he came inside of her, losing focus of her memories as the world imploded and fizzled into a simmering cauldron of raw energy.

"Holy...Hell…" He kissed her lips breathlessly.

Hermione melted into his chest, and he could, with confidence, say they were both wrecked.

"Y-You...you looked into my mind that night."

"...I did."

"That's an invasion of privacy."

"Maybe you should learn to better equip yourself with Occlumency."

"Draco?"

"Yes?"

"Shut up and kiss me."

Leave a thought? Pretty please?
~A.