Chapter 42

Hermione lay in the crook of Draco's arm. His eyes were closed while she drew patterns lazily on his chest, gently exploring the valleys, dips and curves of his muscles, the smoothness of his pale skin, and the feathery texture of his body hair. She traced the red lines of the scar left from Harry's Sectumsempra curse, and looked down to his flaccid penis laying across his thigh, and his legs extended over the rumpled sheets. The light coming through the window was colored in pale oranges and pinks from the sunset and cast shapes of long rectangles and diamonds across his body. She could hear the occasional car drive by, but it was otherwise quiet and peaceful. Her fingers grazed his ribs on the side and he jerked his body, grabbing her wrist and biting his lower lip with a grunt.

"No tickling, Granger."

"Sorry," she glanced up at him. "I like touching you."

"My body is yours to touch," he responded softly, and released her wrist with a small smile. "But no tickling."

Draco closed his eyes again, enjoying her ministrations.

She had no idea what to expect when she kissed him and Apparated them back to her parents' guest room. He had walked her backwards, pressing her down and into the bed, his mouth devouring hers and his hands bracing her securely – yet tenderly – against his body. With the way Draco stared at her before she kissed him, she thought the very second she indicated she was ready and willing he'd be inside her. But instead he had treated her so carefully, and took his time.

Too much time!

Thinking back to the way he undressed her, Hermione shivered as she remembered the deliberate consideration in how he had removed each item of clothing, only to cover her exposed skin with gentle kisses, exploratory nips and tender caresses. Draco's slow, almost reverent treatment chased her fear of the unknown away and quickly replaced it with an eager anticipation for more. Her shirt was off and his arms and hands were everywhere, rubbing and stroking the skin of her stomach, arms, neck and chest. She struggled to get his T-shirt off with a series of useless tugs while he panted atop her in between kisses. She wanted more than anything else to see him, to run her hands over his skin, and growled with impatience. Upon noticing her frustration at trying to disrobe him, he pushed himself up with a smile, balancing himself on his knees astride her and tore off the Star Wars shirt. He flung it to the floor but she didn't have time to enjoy the view. He was back on her again.

Hermione chased after his lips, trying to draw him into another body scorching kiss as he teased her neck and her shoulders, licking her collar bone, biting her lightly and sucking her skin into his mouth. She'd smile when she thought she finally had him but he'd only smirk and descend to kiss somewhere else. She was writhing on the bed in anticipation as his lips lowered to her chest, following the path of his fingers as they pulled her bra strap down over her shoulder. She remembered their kiss the night she told him about the Horcruxes and how close Draco danced around her breast and the fabric of her bra.

Now his lips were getting closer, and his fingers closer. She thrust her hips forward, feeling tight between her legs, wanting him to… to touch, to press, to squeeze… but he wasn't. He was maddening with his teasing and she slid her hands up his back to his hair, fisting it. Trying to direct him. Trying to get his mouth there, trying to get his hands there. Hermione undulated below him and Draco was rubbing himself on her leg and she felt how hot and hard he was against her thigh. She bit her lip and released a grunting whine of frustration doing her best to shift her breast to where she wanted it. To where she wanted him.

He raised his head, and lifted a smug eyebrow at the sounds she made. Draco knew exactly what he was doing to her. Getting impatient, she snaked her hand down between them to try and grasp what was being ground into her, but his fingers finally peeled back the fabric of her bra, grazing over the nipple and she arched her back. His mouth closed over her nipple and –ungh! It was warm and wet and Hermione dug her fingers into the back of his head while he sucked. It was the most exquisite sensation and the pull on her nipple into his mouth shot electric jolts down between her legs.

She bucked while Draco licked and sucked on her breast and his hand closed around her other breast, gingerly pressing into the flesh and she gasped. He kneaded one breast gently while his tongue lathed the other, and a light pinch on her nipple made her cry out in surprise. Hermione wanted more. More of his body. More of his skin. His hands. His mouth. She ran her hands over his back, reveling in the dips and curves of the bones and muscle while they moved beneath his flesh. They each still had on jeans and she wanted to feel his legs against hers. She wanted to grab his arse. She wanted to slide against his length, she wanted him inside of her.

Hermione reached down again and struggled with the opening to his trousers. He was right, who wanted to open all those buttons every time they went to the loo? Her hands brushed against his cock while she fumbled with the opening and Draco groaned and thrust into her before lifting himself and deftly undoing the fly with one hand.

Eager to see him, to get him completely naked, she tried to sit up to push the waist down but he reached around to unclip her bra and dragged it off her arms. She reached out towards him again and he gently but firmly pressed her back down onto the bed with a quirk of his lips. His trousers were loose around his hips now that he opened them and she reached down his back to cup his arse, wanting to feel him, but he moved backwards, out of her reach to open her jeans instead.

Kissing and licking her breasts, her ribs, her stomach, he tugged on the legs of her jeans and peeled down the waistband, mouth following along the bones of her hips, her thighs, the skin of her legs. Hermione sat up to draw him back to her but he just smirked at her again and pressed her back down to her impatient huff.

Draco had gotten her so worked up that by the time his fingers had made their way between her legs, she was well and truly ready for him. Instead of taking her then, he teased her with his hands, rubbing her and circling her clit. He inserted his fingers partway only to extract them, eliciting a frustrated pout from her. He grinned wider.

Hermione grabbed that self-satisfied face back to hers so she could snog him properly and he hesitated, teasing her more. She was about to protest when his finger finally entered her and she gasped and thrust up while his mouth descended on hers. His finger was longer and thicker than hers and he inserted it slowly, up past his knuckles. It curled, and twisted, exploring and she dug her fingers into his shoulders every time he hit a sensitive spot. And then he moved it, sliding in and out and – oh! – his tongue was sliding in and out of her mouth at the same pace. Her brain was a fog of sensation and she just wanted more of him. She writhed and bucked and thrust and slid her hands down underneath the fabric of his jeans which he was still wearing and dug her fingers into his arse.

Draco chuckled into her mouth, knowing full well how frustrating he was. But he wouldn't stop, wouldn't take his trousers off. When he fingered her in earnest, Draco gently pulled and stretched her, rubbing her clitoris with his thumb while she pleaded for something just within reach. Her writhing became more desperate, the heat within her more consuming. She held onto him, wanting to bring him closer to her body, to be inside her. She was almost there. His thumb and his fingers, and his hips against her thigh, and the skin of his chest against the skin of her breasts, and his tongue in her mouth. Finally, Hermione came with an arch of her back and a moaning cry on her lips, thrusting onto his fingers. He broke the kiss and lifted himself a fraction to watch her. Just when she thought he had finished, he looked down at her with a wicked gleam in his eyes. Another few movements of his hand and she soon came again.

She panted while he gazed down at her, face flushed and eyes bright. After a moment to catch her breath, she tried getting his jeans off again.

This time Draco let her push his waistband down and kicked his trousers off his legs, immediately crawling back up to her. She felt him. She felt it at her entrance. She spread her legs wide while he settled himself between her thighs. He was so tender, so controlled, as if Hermione were a fragile piece of glass he could break at the slightest touch.

It was her first time. Hermione hadn't told him, but somehow he must have known and held back considerably. She could feel the control in his trembling limbs as he readied himself to enter her. Every caress, every touch, every kiss, every thrust was done excruciatingly slow. When he first entered her she felt his whole body shaking, as if any second he would let himself go, consequences be damned. He sucked in a shuddering breath and slid up her passageway, centimeter by centimeter, waiting for her to adjust until he was in all the way to the hilt. He released a breath, whimpered softly and smiled down at her, fully inside. Draco balanced himself by his forearms on either side of her head and kept himself there, agonizingly still and studying her eyes while she wrapped her limbs around him.

Hermione held him inside of her and he enveloped her with his larger frame. He watched her gasp as he slid in and out, maddeningly slow, eliciting tiny whimpers and pleas for more from her, and then followed with a deep, thorough kiss. She was completely overwhelmed by him. His tongue and his cock were inside of her. But his arms, his legs, his chest were wrapped around her.

Hermione was at once filled by Draco and surrounded by him. Everywhere. And she couldn't get enough, begging for more but not entirely knowing what 'more' even was. She just wanted him. Wanted his proximity. His heat. His hardness. His strength.

He had taken such care not to hurt her and treated her as something precious to hold. To be guarded.

Draco shuddered before he came inside her and she watched his bright grey eyes through the damp sheen on his face. Hot seed burst within her dragging a vulnerable plea from his lips and his trembling limbs. Hermione watched him stare down at her in wonder while he exhaled. She felt like he gave her a part of himself. He lay atop her for a few moments and then rested his head in the crook of her neck. He breathed heavily, and the pounding of his heart against her chest gave her a sense of completeness she had never experienced before.

He rolled off with a sigh of pleasure and turned his head to study her expression.

"Did I hurt you?"

She smiled and shook her head. How could he possibly?

It was intimate and wonderful and exhilarating. Their coupling felt like making love. It was making love. Hermione thought about his level of control, at how tender and gentle it had been, and then wondered what it would be like if he released all inhibition. To feel all that passion he held at bay, barely constrained within the tremors of his muscles and his shaking limbs.

Hermione returned to stroking his chest and his collar bones. His arm cradled her to his side, and occasionally his fingers would rub patterns in the skin of her rear. His other arm was behind his head and his eyes were closed. Draco appeared perfectly content. Not sleeping, but still, quiet. Enjoying the uninterrupted presence of each other without anything obstructing them. They passed the time in silence as the sun set and the light in the room slowly faded.

"You were upset earlier today," he said, eyes still closed. "After delivering the diadem."

Harry and Ron had been furious that she didn't tell them how she got the Horcrux. And Ron was still angry at her for rejecting him, although time had taken the edge off his fury. Hermione hadn't been with Draco when she broke it off with him, but she certainly was now. She couldn't imagine what kind of rage induced tantrum Ron would throw if he knew why she had left them so suddenly, in the middle of their row. It was going to take time for him to get over her completely, but he would. Perhaps if he found someone else, he'd be able to interact with her more amiably.

She felt bad for Harry for having to referee between the two of them again.

"It's nothing," she said, her fingers tracing the contours of his hip bones.

"It's not. You want me to be open and honest with you, that goes both ways."

Draco was right. Although Hermione had meant being open in the sense of what was happening in the war. If they had a relationship, if that's what this was, she would want him to be open about what was happening with him as well. She shouldn't discuss the Horcruxes. That was too dangerous.

"Before we… Well," She didn't know how he would take this. It was complicated. She bit the bullet and confessed. "There was someone else," Hermione started to explain. "It wasn't official, but a relationship of some sorts was implied. We both wanted one. And then as things progressed between you and I, even though nothing had happened, I felt like I was betraying him. So, I ended it with him. He wasn't happy and still isn't. It's hard to talk with him sometimes."

She looked up at him nervously to see how he'd react.

"Did I steal you from Saint Potter?" Draco's eyes were still closed but the victory smile blatantly spread across his features was undeniable.

"I'm not anyone's to steal," Hermione countered.

Honestly. Men and their penises.

"But I did," he said, still smiling. "You're mine."

Hermione stared at him. Her gut reaction was to say that she was nobody's. Not his, not anyone's. Nobody owned her. She didn't belong to anyone.

But isn't that what love was? Belonging to someone? Did he love her? Did she love him?

"Not Harry," she replied.

"The Weasel then," he said, his grin spreading even wider.

"What are you, Draco? Thirteen? You're still comparing genitalia?"

"Psh. There's nothing to compare. You know my cock is bigger."

She poked him in the ribs. His body contracted and he grabbed her wrist.

"Granger," he warned threateningly, still with his eyes closed.

Hermione was curious about his love life prior to her. He was obviously more experienced than she was. She continued tracing lines up and down his chest after he released her wrist and she asked, "Did you have anyone?"

Draco hesitated, as if he were unsure of what to say, but then he shook his head. That's not what Hermione expected. He exuded sexuality. Constantly. She just assumed he'd be… busy? Maybe it was as he said the morning after Mary took out his implant, he only flirted with her.

"Not since Pansy. I let her go mid-sixth year. Things were…" he sighed. "terrible back then. They still are. I didn't want her to get her caught up in my mess." His lips turned down into a slight frown. "We've both moved on, but she got trapped in this shit anyway."

"She doesn't know what you did for her, does she?" Draco wouldn't have told her that he used the Order to remove her rapist from Voldemort's Army. He couldn't.

"Of course not. That wasn't the point."

She loved him. Right in that moment Hermione knew that she loved him. How could she not? Everything he did was to protect those he cared deeply about, no matter what it cost him. He had been doing that right from the beginning.

Feeling overwhelmed by a surge of affection she nuzzled further into his arm and draped her leg possessively over his. She did belong to him. And he belonged her. He curled his arm around her tighter, pressing her closer against his side. Her fingers travelled southward over his abdominals and she saw his cock twitch.

"Round two?" he asked, eyes still closed.

"I'm a little bit sore. Can we try again tomorrow?" At her words, his prick thickened and elevated off of his thigh, transforming into a full-blown erection.

He turned towards her, opened his eyes and growled into her ear. "I'm at your beck and call."

Chapter end notes:

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