First, she thought she would have a good night sleep after the long and tiresome argument. They were both angry at each other, but that stupid moron simply had to understand that he couldn't play the seniority card, not with his wife. He can't forbid her to go on missions alone, just because he cares for her.
This is stupid.
Her family name might be Malfoy now, but she was still the same fearless Hermione Granger, and he had to respect that, or he would have to sleep downstairs for the rest of his miserable life...
Okay, probably she felt a bit of guilt, which must have been the reason why she was just rolling around in their marital bed for the past hour. 'Is he comfortable downstairs?' she wondered, but she remembered that around the fireplace they had a very comfortable couch.
She was still angry, but she had to admit that she missed him. She got used to him. His presence. His arm around her waist. His small puffs of warm air that tickled her neck. The little pecks he planted on the top of her head. The half-asleep sex...
She was still angry, but she had never felt this lonely in her life, not since the war. She took a deep breath, sat up on the bed, and decided on visiting her awfully stubborn husband.
The war of wills was not over yet, but she wanted to postpone the battle a little.
She felt triumphant when she found him wide awake.
He sat up and started to talk, but she quickly crouched next to him and put a finger on his lips.
"Don't," she said, "I'm still angry."
He curiously raised a brow. Why would she come down if she still didn't want to make peace or at least talk?
She pushed him back on the couch. He tried to say something again, but she hushed him fiercely.
"Don't talk. You can use your tongue, but not for talking," she commanded him. He looked surprised; he couldn't make heads or tails of what she was saying.
A moment later, it became clear. With swift move, she peeled off the nightshirt she was wearing. She was completely naked, he was flabbergasted.
She moved up to his head, raised a leg, and swung it over his head. She was kneeling above him, her nether lips just a few inches away from his mouth.
He started to feel an unknown excitement, she had a tendency to be bossy in bed from time to time, but this shameless dominance was completely new.
"Do it," she commanded him, but he could hardly hear it.
He raised his hand and grabbed her hips to guide her to his lips. He could feel her pussy radiating heat. He stuck his tongue out and slowly, very slowly licked her clit. He could feel her shiver above him.
He licked again and again, this time a little faster and he earned some deep moans from her. He removed his left hand from her hip while still licking her and started to rub her with his fingers, harder with every move.
She was practically dancing on top of him, and it was a bit hard to breathe, but he didn't complain, instead, he unexpectedly buried three fingers in her, making Hermione scream with uttermost delight.
He kept on fingering her while sucking at her clit, feeling his face getting wetter and his cock getting harder with every passing second.
And finally, she was done. She screamed for one last time and her juices completely covered Draco's face.
She tiredly dropped next to him on the couch. He panted for a while then wiped his face with the back of his hand.
She turned her head and looked at him. His hair was a mess, his face was still glistening with her juices in the dim light. There was a goofy smile on his face. He was irresistible, but she was still angry.
"Don't say a word," she said while gasping for a little more air, "this was not make-up sex, this was just sex."
He nodded. The stupid smile was still lingering on his face. He kneeled up and pulled down the linen pants he was wearing. Her eyes grew wide when she saw his massive hard-on.
He grabbed her by the waist and gently rolled her over to her side. He lied down behind her. He lifted her upper leg and speared her from behind. They groaned simultaneously.
He wasn't the thoughtful lover now, he focused on getting what he wanted like she had done before. He fucked her hard, almost mercilessly, swearing unintelligibly, grunting like a wild animal.
A few minutes later he came, filling her pussy with his hot seed, not caring about making a mess on the couch or anything else for that matter.
He dropped down behind her and put an arm around her waist. She was breathing heavily but happily. She covered their naked bodies with the covers she could summoned from the bedroom, but he held her waist in a vice-like grip.
"I'm still angry," she stated.
"Me too," he answered. Then he started to leave the familiar little pecks on the top of her head.