A/N: Okay, hold on to your electronic devices – the first Dramione lemon is here!
Somewhere
Early morning
Hermione stirred. She was in a new bed, in a new, high-ceilinged room, and judging by the soft sounds outside, she was also in a new country.
Draco lay next to her in the large bed, still asleep. His bare shoulders and chest peeked out from pristine white linen sheets. It made her realise what she was wearing; to whit; nothing at all.
Her heart leapt in alarm. What happened the night before? She rubbed her temples, trying to remember.
Bits of it came wavering back.
Yesterday, they were at Olek's Get-Married-Or-Die-Trying ball in Transylvania. Then Pansy showed up, and there was a fight (Hermione blushed; how unladylike of her!); then she ended up crying on Draco's shoulder somehow. He side-apparated her somewhere dark; she didn't know or care where because she was too busy throwing up. Side apparition was not her cup of tea.
Draco helped her out of her gown – she could still feel the ghost of his cool fingers on her spine. Then she crawled into the bed Draco led her to… nude? No; she had a fuzzy memory of half-waking later on, irritated by the boning in the bra and the scratchiness of the panty lace. She wriggled out of them, plonked them on the floor, and zonked out.
She looked over the edge of the bed; they were right where she dropped them, just visible in the cool light licking around the edges of large wooden shutters at the other end of the room.
Standing, she wrapped a bed sheet around her body, making sure she didn't deprive Draco of linen. Heading to the large shutters, she unlatched one and opened it, revealing an ornate, beautifully-coloured stained glass French door. Coloured light spilled onto the mosaic floor.
Entranced, she opened the door and stepped into a terracotta courtyard, bordered with potted palms, birds of paradise and other exotic plants. Birds greeted the new day and each other above her. Over their chatter, she heard the adhan. A mosque was nearby.
Something else was nearby, and its pull was great. Crossing the courtyard, she found a little gate. Sand blew in through the wrought-iron trellis. Looking ahead, Hermione could barely believe her eyes.
An untamed ocean pounded the sand mere metres away from where she stood. Craggy rocks and succulents dotted the landscape. A tang of coffee, oranges and spices laced the early morning air. Warm salt air brushed her skin.
Hermione closed her eyes. Letting every one of her senses seek out stimuli, she eventually opened them, almost certain she'd worked out where they were.
"Morocco?" she breathed.
The sound of bare feet crossed the courtyard, and now-familiar arms wrapped around her from behind. "Casablanca, to be exact," Draco murmured by her ear.
She smiled, reaching up and running her fingers through his hair (rather brave of her, she thought). He kissed her wrist, tasting it with his tongue. A brief recollection of Robin Hood and Maid Marian flashed by her eyes.
"It's perfect," she whispered. "I know I'll love it here."
"I hope you do," he replied, dropping a gentle kiss to her jaw.
"Did I wake you?" Hermione asked, ever solicitous.
She felt his lips smile on her skin, but he said nothing.
Hermione searched inside herself for any sense of fear or nervousness; but all she found was peace; a certainty that it was time. The perfect time.
Desire unfurled from her tummy and rippled through her body.
She turned in his arms and faced him, her eyes darkening. The intensity of his gaze made her heart thump, so she focussed on his lips and the light stubble just beneath. It was her call.
She took a deep breath. "Have sex with me?" she asked.
He answered her with a slow, beautiful kiss, cradling her head in his hands as if it was the most precious thing in the world.
Eventually, the kiss ran its course; and as they pulled a small distance apart, Hermione noticed for the first time that Draco was nude. His sizeable erection had nowhere to hide, and it stood out proudly from his body.
Hermione's lips went dry. The last time she saw it, it was surging in and out of –
"Don't," Draco said in a low voice, reading her mind. "This is all about you."
With that, he collected her in his arms, sheet and all, and carried her to their bed.
Before Draco laid Hermione down on the bed, he slowly unwrapped the sheet from her, revealing all of her body to him for the first time. She did her best not to show her shyness, but under his serious, silent gaze, her cheeks heated treacherously.
When Draco finished his slow inspection of Hermione's body, he raised his eyes to her burning face. Brushing one of her cheeks with his thumb, he murmured "You're the most desirable woman I've ever seen. It's not a lie," he added when she feebly shook her head. He took one of her hands and pressed it to his erection. "This can't lie."
Hermione looked down at her hand, wrapping itself around his shaft as if it had a mind of its own. The hardness of it astonished her. She knew the hardness grew from increased blood flow to the organ; and it became soft when the blood returned to the body. But still. It was almost like magic.
His cock was warm, too, and the flesh moved over the hard tissue inside when she stroked it experimentally. Draco drew in a breath, and she looked up, alarmed that she'd hurt him, letting go as if it burned her.
His eyes were closed. "It's fine," he murmured on a somewhat goofy smile.
Emboldened, she touched him again.
Draco discovered that gentle, fleeting touches to his organ made for a glorious, crazy type of torture. He wanted a hand to stroke him firmly. Even better, a tight, wet channel to slide into, surrounded by a trembling body clinging to his, rising and falling with his movements. But he had to be patient.
Hermione was a mix of nerves, curiosity, passion and compassion. Just one look into her deep brown eyes and you could see her unguarded soul. Bedding her for the first time would be unlike anything Draco had experienced before.
This was serious.
He prayed he wouldn't fuck it up.
He took her hand and helped Hermione into the middle of the bed. Slowly, he moved over her – then she squinted as he dangled her bottle of potion between his fingers.
Hermione huffed. "I don't need" – she started; but when she looked into his eyes, she went silent, took the bottle from him and drank. Doing well to prevent her eyes from rolling at his over-mothering, she thought.
Draco tasted the last of the potion on her lips as he lowered his body down to hers. Her legs naturally parted to accommodate him. He settled between them, exploring her face with his lips and fingertips.
Hermione thrilled to his touch. Her body warmed and she wriggled beneath, wanting to become closer still. Her hands explored what she could reach of him: from his biceps to shoulders, then trailing down his back, running her thumbs along his spine; feeling his muscles react. Then she went for broke and grabbed two handfuls of his muscular buttocks, pulling his hips closer to hers.
Sensing her impatience, Draco moved down her body, palming and gripping her breast with one hand while applying his lips to the nipple of the other breast. She cried out in desire, gripping his hair to keep him in place.
He did so; but he trailed the other hand over her waist and hips to the juncture of her thighs, brushing his fingers through her curls until he found –
"Omigod!" Hermione gasped, bucking her hips.
Still at her breasts, Draco smiled and ventured a little lower with his fingers, encountering a promisingly wet entrance to her core. He'd give his left nut to spend an hour or two with his head between her legs, but he'll wait until she mastered the basics before introducing her to the pleasures of oral sex.
If she wants to keep having sex with him.
Murmuring to her and keeping a thumb on her clitoris, he eased a long finger inside her. Gods, she was wet. And hot. and tight. He very nearly disgraced himself, but he recovered in time and caught her lips in a heated kiss.
"More," she begged, too aroused to care how she sounded. To Draco, it was music to his ears, anyway.
He added another finger and gently pushed inside; and now he got a fairly good idea of how tight she was going to feel when he entered her. It thrilled and scared him in equal measure. If he hurt her...
Applying more pressure to her clitoris, Draco slicked his fingers in and out of her body, building up speed, watching her beautiful face as she drew closer to orgasm. Her body began to tremble, and a fine sheen of sweat filmed her body. She gripped his arm, the one that worked the hand that was drawing such a reaction; she didn't want him to stop or slow down. Her channel began to spasm.
"Come for me, love," he gritted out.
The words were barely spoken before Hermione wailed and her body stiffened – before shattering into the most intense orgasm she'd ever had in her life. To watch her move in the throes of orgasm was like watching poetry come to life. Draco was entranced – and he knew this couldn't be a one-off for him. He wanted to keep making Hermione react uninhibitedly over and over. For as long as she let him.
Resting on the bed, she rubbed her eyes before weaving her hands through her riotous hair. "Bloody hell," she gasped.
Draco grinned. "Fun?"
Hermione laughed. "Gods, yes."
Draco swallowed, then asked "Do you want to continue?"
She looked at his pensive profile, his messy hair, and – further down – his large, almost angry-looking erection. She realised that all this time he'd been concentrating on her, ignoring his own pleasure while she writhed and begged and orgasmed. She blushed.
Still – it was so big...
She took her courage by the horns. "I do," she said firmly. "If you want to," she tacked on.
Draco burst out laughing before sobering and thanking her for her consideration. He accio'ed a lubricant potion from his luggage over to the bed. Admittedly, he'd not used lubricant while entering a woman's pussy before, but he was dead serious about making this as painless as he could.
They kissed deeply, and as they drew apart, Hermione whispered "I trust you, Draco. Even if it hurts, it'll be okay."
Draco, kneeling between her legs, bit his lip, then opened his mouth – but found that the words busting a gut to breach his mouth were all inadequate. He unstopped the potion, poured some of the contents onto his hand, and applied it to his painfully hard cock.
"Argh!"
Hermione sat up. "Omigod, are you okay?" she gasped.
Draco nodded. "Cold," he bit out.
Hermione laughed and fell back onto the bed.
"If it's cold on me it will be cold inside you," Draco warned.
"Nah, your body will warm it up."
True enough, the lubricant was now a pleasant body temperature. Bloody swat, he smiled to himself.
His cock lay at her entrance. Draco steadied it with an unsteady hand. "Might be better if you close your eyes," Draco suggested. He didn't want to see her lose his self-control.
Hermione closed her eyes. And held her breath.
Draco prayed to Merlin, then entered her body.
With the lubricant's help, he was able to penetrate her quite deep. Her tight muscles gripped him without mercy, and he began to count backwards from one hundred in multiples of nine to keep himself from coming.
Once fully inside her, he whispered "You're doing so well, love. Now you tell me what to do. What you want."
With her eyes still screwed shut, she gritted "Stay there and don't move."
He did so, slowly feeling her body adjust to his intrusion.
Eventually, Hermione grabbed a pillow and pushed it underneath her hips. Her eyes snapped open. "Wow."
"Is that a good wow?"
"You know, I think it might be," she said thoughtfully. Then, noticing Draco's shaking arms and the beads of perspiration on his lip, she asked "Can you try moving? Slowly?"
"Your wish...," Draco murmured and slowly withdrew, keeping the head of his cock just inside her. Hermione flexed her hips experimentally, and Draco slid back inside.
"Gods," she said, "it's like you're filling my whole body, somehow."
Draco smirked. "Well, I know I'm big, but I'm not that big!"
She smacked him on the arm. "Keep moving, soldier."
Draco laughed, obeying her order.
Hermione's pain appeared to be gone, and she met each of Draco's thrusts inside her with moans of desire. But for Draco, it was too much, and before he could coax another orgasm from her body, his own one gave up the ghost and he orgasmed blissfully inside her even while he inwardly cursed his feeble lack of self-control. Hermione held him as he came, dropping kisses on his shoulders and chest.
For fear that he'd collapse on top of her, Draco lay on the bed on his side, bringing Hermione's body to him while he stayed inside her for as long as he could. She flexed her internal muscles a few times, sending mini-orgasmic shockwaves through his cock, which he didn't think was capable of feeling anything at this point. Retrieving his wand, he made themselves and the bed decent before finally lying on his back. He flung an arm over his head and tried to get his breathing under control.
Hermione lay on her side, tucked into his arm. "Thank you," she whispered.
"Anytime," he replied, meaning it.
But let's just take one step at a time.
Eventually, her breathing deepened; she'd fallen back asleep. Draco kissed her forehead gently, then stared up at the ceiling until sleep took him, too.
