A/N: I own nothing but an over-active imagination

Get ready for smut.

Beautiful

Her magic swirled around them, electric currents dancing across her skin. She could feel something shift deep within her, as if clicking into place, making her feel whole for the first time.

His fingers slid up her neck and into her curls, and that's when she realized. Draco Malfoy was kissing her, hungrily, and she was doing nothing. She had wanted this, for longer than she was willing to admit.

She launched herself forward, a bit too eager, but she didn't care. She yearned for more, burning from the inside out. At her sudden attack, Malfoy stumbled back, but quickly regained his footing and his grasp on her. As she scrambled to touch him, to feel the hardened plains of his body as he placed open-mouth kisses against her lips, she could hear a deep chuckle. But again, she didn't care.

His tongue flicked out tasting her, and her lips parted on instinct, a groan pouring from her throat, and he lost all control. He attacked her mouth, and soon they were both gasping for air. The hand in her hair twisted, and she winced as the pressure bordered on both pain and pleasure. He was devouring her, and he tasted divine.

She poured all her frustrations into their kiss. Their tongues battled for dominance, causing her fingers to curl into the fabric of his pristine robes. She shifted her stance, pushing one leg between his own and thrust her hips forward. He gasped at the contact of her bold move, and thrust back against her, emitting a guttural growl that vibrated on her tongue.

Their breath was coming in gasps between kisses now, her head feeling light and dizzy. Slowly, his tongue retreated from the warmth of her mouth, his kisses became less demanding, and then he withdrew entirely. She whimpered in protest at the lack of contact, but the disappointment was short-lived. He heaved in a breath, and then attacked her again.

Hermione immediately opened her mouth to him, allowing him full access, and shivered as the taste of him overtook her senses again. One of his hands trailed up and down her back lightly, burning across her skin as he moved.

The faint sound of a pop registered in her mind, but she could not bring herself to acknowledge it, not when his tongue was doing such marvelous things. But, when she heard a small squeak, the couple parted, turning to see Tootsie standing meekly to the side wringing her hands. Hermione's shoulders sagged, but Malfoy straightened instantly and faced the small elf.

"Yes?" he grit out through clenched teeth.

"Sorry to disturb Master, but Mistress is looking for you. Mistress sent Tootsie to find you. People is leaving now."

"Thank you, Tootsie. Tell my mother we will return shortly." With a quick nod of her head and a pop, the small elf was gone, leaving the pair again alone in the silence of the night.

Hermione's cheeks flushed as she met his gaze, her hand coming to rest against her lips. They were swollen and hot, and she smiled softly as she noticed Malfoy's high cheekbones were stained a pale pink. She wasn't sure what to say, so she simply continued to look into his eyes, watching as the heat swirled within them.

He was staring back at her, but his eyes wandered across her face and hair, and she saw a smirk begging at the corner of his mouth. He was taking in the sight of her and seemed pleased with what he saw. She snorted a small laugh. How typical she thought, shaking her head at him playfully.

"We should go," he spoke, "before Mother comes looking for us herself. She won't be pleased if we make her leave her guests."

Hermione straightened, eyes widening at the thought of upsetting the Malfoy matriarch for a second time. "Of course." And she turned to make her way back to the house. As she stepped away from Malfoy and began walking along the stone path, she felt suddenly cold, and wondered if his warming charm had worn off. But then, she felt a comforting heat envelop her, beginning at the small of her back.

Looking over her shoulder, she saw Malfoy at her side, hand low on her back, guiding her gently. She examined him as they walked. He held his head high with all the practiced poise of any Pureblood heir, but she could tell from his profile that his face was devoid the Malfoy mask.

And although she could not be sure, she thought she saw his eyes dart over to her, just for a moment, just once or twice.

She was no longer cold.

Narcissa had been in a tizzy by the time they approached the archway and berated them for having not been there to thank their guests as the first took their leave. Once she felt Hermione and her son appeared appropriately chastised, the look of outrage on her face quickly dissipated and was replaced with something else, something Hermione couldn't quite place, but if she had to describe, she would have put it somewhere between prideful and mischievous.

The remainder of the evening was woefully formal, much like its beginning, as the three offered their gratitude to the vacating guests.

Hermione's back and neck were stiff, not used to maintaining such rigid posture for such a long period of time. She glanced over to Malfoy and his mother, wondering how on earth they could stand it.

The Malfoys paid her no mind, all the while focusing their attentions on the witches and wizards in front of them. Her heart panged at the loss of the blonde wizard's attentions, but she knew that was silly and petty. So, she quickly pushed the feeling away.

Finally, it was time for her to take her own leave. It seemed her friends had been among the first to leave during her absence, and she knew to expect at least one fiery redhead's inquiry as to where she had disappeared to. She thanked Narcissa repeatedly for such a wonderful event.

Narcissa smiled demurely at her praise, and Hermione noted that she bore the same formality toward her as she had upon her last visit here for tea. Curious. But, perhaps it was part of pureblood etiquette when throwing such an event, and Hermione committed she would pick up some texts to study on the matter.

Malfoy stood stoically at his mother's side, hands folded behind him, not speaking a word until she stepped back and away from Hermione. He took a graceful step toward her and bent at the waist; one hand remained at his back while the other reached out to grab her own. He lifted her knuckles to his lips and planted a chased kiss.

Her heart sunk at the coldness of his formality. Perhaps it was his upbringing, like his mothers, but after snogging her senseless in his gardens, the stark contrast left her feeling broken and empty inside.

How could he so easily ignore what had happened between them? She thought back to that night at Andromeda's. It had been the same then, but this, this had felt much more intimate. Much more real.

"A pleasure, as always." He released her hand but didn't break eye contact. "Thank you for the dance." She couldn't find any words, so she nodded her head. "Goodnight." His voice was soft.

"Goodnight, Malfoy. Thank you for a beautiful evening." She saw his eyes flash and she sucked in a breath. Perhaps he wasn't so cold after all. She smiled widely at him, before stepping into the fireplace and returning home.

The moment she walked into her living room, Hermione kicked off her shoes, sighing in relief as her feet sunk into the plush carpet. She collapsed into the sofa, her hand traveling back to her lips as she remembered the feel of his kiss.

He was an excellent kisser, gentle yet firm at the same time. Biting her bottom lip at the memory, she welcomed the flood of arousal that grew in her abdomen.

She called out to Ginny but was glad when she heard no reply. Reaching for her wand, she closed the fireplace to incoming floo calls, before tossing it to the side.

Her right hand rested on her stomach before traveling up to grasp her breast, all the while imagining it was Malfoys hand on her. She moved higher, across her collarbone and tangled her fingers into the hair at the base of her neck, gripping it tight as he had done.

Her other hand traveled to her center, and she began rubbing firm circles across her clit through the fabric of her gown. Her eyes fluttered closed as she continued touching herself. Inhaling slowly, she remembered the feel of his hardness against her.

She rarely pleasured herself, and her movements, though somewhat effective, were clumsy. It was a poor substitute, but it would have to do.

She pulled at the fabric, bringing its edge up over her knees. How would Malfoy have done this? Would he raise her dress slowly, trailing his fingers across her flesh as he went? Or would he be more aggressive, ripping it up and over her head in one sudden movement, exposing her to him? She moaned but was suddenly brought out of her trance by a loud knock at her door.

She dropped the hem of her gown, sat up and looked toward the hallway. Another knock. Who could be here at such a late hour. It was nearly midnight. Perhaps it was Ginny? She had closed the floo. But why would she come home at all tonight rather than staying at Harry's?

Grabbing her wand, she made her way to the door and opened it and saw Malfoy, eyes dark, with a predatory look on his face. Without a word, he strode forward, grabbing her by the hip. His other hand reached behind him, slamming the door closed before grabbing a fistful of her hair.

He turned her slightly, then slammed her against the nearby wall. She gasped in shock, but then he was on her, against her, his hands roaming her body eagerly before capturing her lips in a scorching kiss.

She could feel him everywhere at once. Her mouth, her neck, her hips, her breasts. He moved away slightly, leaving only enough room between them to spin her around, pressing her front flush against the cool wall. She turned her head to the side, allowing her cheek to rest against its surface, and he began rocking against her, latching his lips onto her neck from behind.

She let out a breathy sigh, before her mind began to race. "What are you doing?" She asked, and then gasped again as he sunk his teeth into her flesh.

"Embracing my instincts," he growled, and then moved a hand to her core. He massaged her, and she relished the feel of his fingers as they traced her entrance through the thin fabric. The pressure of his fingers against her was perfect, firm and hot, much more satisfying than her own had felt just minutes ago.

He began to frantically grab at the fabric, lifting it quickly before returning his hand to heat. He moaned against the shell of her ear as he rubbed her through her knickers, and she knew in an instant he could feel her arousal.

"So wet for me already." His words were hot against her neck. "What were you doing before I arrived? Tell me."

She sucked in a breath. "I was sitting on the sofa."

"Were you thinking of me?"

She sighed. "Yes"

"Touching yourself?"

Another sigh. "Yess."

His finger hooked the edge of her knickers, moving it to the side. He trailed a single digit over her wetness, gathering it, before dipping inside her. A loud moan escaped her lips, and he attacked her neck again, as he slowly pumped his finger inside her.

"So tight," he moaned against her neck. "So wet. So responsive. Tell me, when you were touching yourself, were you pretending it was me? Imagining my fingers touching you," he paused, then curled his finger deep inside her, pressing hard against her g-spot, "here," he hissed.

"Yes!" She screamed. Her eyes closed tightly as his fingers sped up, each time placing more and more pressure against that spot inside her. "Oh, gods yes!"

Her heart raced, and she knew if he continued, she would break apart. But before she could reach that state of bliss, he withdrew from her, spinning her around to face him.

She looked up, breathing heavily, and her eyes widened as he brought his hand to his face. He inhaled her scent from his finger, and his black eyes flashed dangerously. He took his finger inside his mouth, sucking it clean, and his eyes fluttered close.

It was as if he was savoring the most delicious treat. She gaped at his action. Never once had Ron been so bold as to taste her. His eyes shot open once more.

"Delicious," he purred. "Do you know how good you taste?" Eyes still wide, she slowly shook her head no.

Then he was kissing her again, delving deep within the warm cavern of her mouth, and she could taste herself on his tongue. An involuntary moan escaped into his mouth, and suddenly his hands were everywhere again.

He gripped her bottom and then lifted her. Hermione wrapped her legs around his waist just before he slammed her back against the wall again. This time she was at eye level with him, and she pulled away and chanced a glance.

His darkened eyes shown with a sort of fire behind them. They were wild, but Hermione couldn't help but think that for the first time, Malfoy looked...free.

She began kissing him, softly, sweetly. Hips pinned under his own, she could feel his length against her again, pulsing, twitching, yearning to be freed from the confines of his trousers. She tensed and sucked in a shuttering breath.

Would this be the night? Would they really do that so soon? As if reading her mind, Malfoy began to speak between kisses. "Want you. Need you." She sighed, relaxing again. "Nowwww." He growled and punctuated his words with the sharp thrust of his hips.

He removed her from the wall and began walking further into her flat. Had they really not made it past the entranceway? He continued to kiss her hotly as he walked, but his eyes were wide, pushing open doors as they passed, until finally finding her bedroom.

A few long strides and he was at the foot of her bed, and her stomach tightened. They were in her bedroom. The bedroom she once shared with Ron. Somehow, despite her feelings, it felt like a betrayal.

She tried to push those feelings aside, tried to again focus on the fire this wizard ignited within her, but she only managed to summon more embarrassing thoughts.

She hadn't done this often. She and Ron never worked similar schedules, which made finding time together challenging. They slept in the same bed, of course, but she could count on both hands the number of times they had been intimate.

Surely Malfoy would notice her inexperience. Would he mind? Would he laugh at her? Call her a prude and leave? No. Not him. Maybe the old Malfoy, but not this man who now held her in his arms.

Malfoy tossed her effortlessly onto the mattress with a bounce, causing her to giggle. For a second, her mind stopped it's worrying.

She looked up at the stunning wizard hovering above her. A beautiful silhouette in the darkness of her room, light shining from the open door behind him. He was, "perfect," she sighed without meaning to.

His hands shot to his trousers and she could hear the clink of the metal belt as he undid it. Her anxiety returned. Fear coursed through her veins and she shot up on her bed, leaning forward on her knees, and reached her hand out to stop him.

At the feel of her small hand on his, he looked up questioningly, head cocked slightly to the side. "I-I," She stammered. "It's just, I've not-" she couldn't find the words.

His hand moved and wrapped around hers, the other moving to stroke her face gently. When he spoke, his voice was calm and smooth. "Don't tell me you're still a virgin, Granger."

Her face flushed hot, and she hoped he couldn't see it in the darkness. "No," she laughed humorlessly, but she felt him exhale slowly. "It's just...been a long time. And. And it was only a few times anyway."

She was embarrassed, and she tried to lower her chin, to avert her gaze so she didn't have to look at the disappointment in his eyes. But he held her face still, eyes fixed on her own.

"What a fool." She felt her eyes begin to well up with tears at his words. He didn't want her, not now, but he continued. "He didn't deserve you."

"W-what? Who?" Malfoy dropped down to his knees before her, moving her to sit on the edge of the bed, and pulled her feet to him. With a sigh, he began massaging one foot comfortingly as he spoke.

"Weasley. I always knew he was a fool. How could he lay next to such a beautiful witch every night and resist the urge to touch you?" He moved his hands under the hem of her gown, lightly gripping her ankles, massaging them.

"To feel you." His hands traveled higher, across her shins and calves, bunching the fabric over his forearms as he went.

"To make you shiver with want and need." Moving higher, he pushed the fabric over her knees, exposing her legs to his view. He dipped his head down, planting light kisses on the inside of her thighs. At his sensual words and the gentleness of his touch, her legs fell open, and she leaned back, supporting her weight on her elbows.

His kisses trailed higher as he lifted the fabric once more, exposing her knickers, and he kissed their edge.

"To taste you each and every night." His tongue darted out and he licked her slit firmly over the fabric. She clenched her eyes shut and inhaled deeply. She could smell the tang of her own arousal, feel the heat of her core, ignited by his words and by his touch.

"We won't do anything tonight you don't want." His voice echoed in her ears. A sweet promise for tonight and for nights to come. But when his fingers hooked into the top of her knickers, and he began pulling them down slowly, her eyes shot back open, wide and fearful. She went to speak, but he silenced her with a shush.

He continued removing the article at a snail's pace, never taking his eyes from her own. As she slipped her feet out, he crumpled them, placing them in his pocket. His lips met her flesh again, starting at the inside of her knees, then moving up. Inch by inch. Kiss by kiss. All the while looking into her eyes.

As he approached her heat, she whimpered. Would he kiss her there!? That was something else Ron had never done. He seemed to sense her shock, and paused, hovering his mouth over her core.

His breath was cool against her, causing her to shiver. As he closed his eyes, he breathed her in, a growl resonating in his chest before his eyes shot open again, wide.

"Has no one ever kissed you here? Ever tasted the sweetness of your dripping wet cunt?" She gasped.

"N-no. Never." And that was all it took.

Malfoy dove between her thighs, lapping at her folds before catching her clit between his lips and sucking hard. Hermione screamed out. Her arms gave out beneath her and she fell on her back, grasping at the sheets around her as Malfoy began pressing his tongue against her swollen nub with incredible speed.

Continuing his attention to that sweet bundle of nerves, a single finger moved between her folds, circling her entrance once, twice, three times before plunging into her wetness. Hermione's vision was blurring, her body wrecked with pleasure at the man moving between her legs.

Withdrawing the digit fully, he reentered her again slowly, two fingers this time, but she was so tight he took his time, easing into her a knuckle at a time. His tongue began flicking her; up and down, up and down. Side to side, side to side, causing Hermione to hold her breath.

He began to scissor his fingers inside her, stretching her, but not roughly. Once she had adjusted, he began pumping his fingers inside her, slowly at first, but then faster and faster, finally matching the pace of his tongue on her clit.

She was moaning, squirming beneath him as she felt the pressure within her grow, pushing her closer and closer to the presipus. She clenched her muscles around his fingers, and a growl vibrated against her clit. He was savagely pumping her now, and she began babbling incoherently as he spoke against her.

"Tell me, Granger. How does it feel? My fingers inside your hot cunt? Tell me!" His voice was husky. His words demanding. She tried to speak, but couldn't, and he growled, twisting his fingers roughly inside her.

"Amazing!" She screamed, voice horse. "Perfect. Wonderful!" He hummed against her nub in approval at her words.

"And who makes you feel this way?" She knew the game he was playing now, and it turned her on even more.

"YOU! You do! Only you!"

"Yesssss," he hissed, and began sucking on her once more.

She was close. So close. "Please!" She cried out, desperate for release. "Please, Draco!"

The moment his name left her lips he thrust a third finger inside her and bit down on her clit, and the world exploded, white behind her eyes. He continued to pump her mercilessly through her orgasm, her walls pulsing around his fingers as she screamed her release.

But it wouldn't stop, the pure ecstasy and bliss. She wasn't coming down, and she felt as if she might explode, the pleasure mixing with pain as he nibbled on her sensitive bundle of nerves. It was too much. Too much all at once.

She tried to scream again, tried to tell him she couldn't, that she was breaking apart, but her voice was stuck, so he continued. She bucked her hips, trying to rid herself of him, but he pinned her to the bed with his free hand.

Just when she thought she could take it no more, that she would surely die from so many overwhelming sensations, the pressure peaked again, and she felt herself falling, falling, falling over the edge of a cliff she didn't know she had been teetering on.

A strangled sob escaped her lips and Malfoy released her nub with a popping suck. His fingers slowing within her.

The last thing she heard before blackness overtook her, "Beautiful."