Draco is a needy boi. Featuring one of my personal favorite positions, the reverse cowgirl.

Draco Malfoy scowled with growing aggravation as he bounced his leg and stared at the back of his wife's head.

Four weeks. It had been four weeks since Hermione had entered this ultra-hyper-focus-on-work-and-nothing-else mode, and hardly glanced his way for more than a few seconds at a time.

…Alright, so maybe he was exaggerating a bit, but the fact remained that a significant amount of her recent attention had been dedicated to her work and not much else. And in Draco's superior opinion, he'd handled it rather maturely for the most part.

He'd been patient. He'd been supportive. He understood how important this was to her, knew she'd been striving toward this goal for years, and he'd be damned if he ever denied her happiness or didn't acknowledge her hard work.

He'd bitten his tongue in the mornings when he woke with her side of the bed already cold, held back his complaints when she worked through lunch, and refrained from pushing at nights when she collapsed into bed with utter exhaustion.

If being a good husband was a school subject, Draco was certain he'd have O's across the board for his understanding and downright pleasant behavior these past weeks.

But goddammit, even an A+ husband such as himself had his limits, and his patience had never been very abundant to begin with.

Tomorrow, the bill she'd spent her blood, sweat, and tears drafting would finally be passed, and then they'd both be taking a few vacation days to lounge at his family's villa in Greece. They'd planned a congratulatory dinner for tonight with Potter and his wife, ignoring Hermione's insistence that they were celebrating too soon.

His brilliant little bookworm was the only one that wasn't one hundred percent convinced the bill would pass tomorrow, despite literally everyone assuring her otherwise; which was why, upon returning home early so she could supposedly rest and mentally prepare herself for tomorrow, Hermione had instead retreated to the study to double, triple, and quadruple check the bill that she'd already perfected ten times over.

That had been the final straw to obliterate Draco's fragile patience. He'd fully intended to hog her to himself all afternoon – even took a half day to assure it – but of course, she just couldn't step away from her precious work for a few measly hours.

Even after he'd stalked into the study and plopped onto the couch behind her, hoping his presence would distract her, she just continued to pour over the extensive document. She'd not even done him the courtesy of acknowledging his presence, making Draco fume silently.

He couldn't stand being ignored. He would tolerate it no longer. Tonight, she was his.

"Hermione," he tried.

Nothing. Not even a flinch.

Draco clenched his jaw. If she didn't acknowledge him in the next five seconds, he was going to toss her over his shoulder, carry her to their bedroom, and spend the rest of the evening and the entire night making her acknowledge him.

"Granger."

Finally, Hermione visibly startled and whirled around. "Oh, Draco! You gave me a fright. How long have you been there?"

Draco's eye twitched. So she hadn't even known he was here, had she? He honestly wasn't sure if that made it better or worse.

"Long enough," he bit out. "Don't you think you've reviewed that thing well enough at this point? If you stare at it much longer, your eyes may permanently cross."

Hermione rolled said eyes. "Don't be ridiculous, that's impossible. And no, I haven't. There's a paragraph in the second article that could use some clean up, and a sentence in the section regarding wolfsbane distribution could be worded better-"

"Granger," Draco interrupted, exasperated, "You've been 'revising' and 'cleaning up' the bloody thing to the point that a Scourgify wouldn't make any difference on it. The longer you stare at it, the more you're just going to find things 'wrong'–" he exaggerated with air quotes, "-with it. Soon, you'll work yourself up into a panic and start nattering on about how it's not good enough, even though it fucking is. Come on Granger, you need a break."

Hermione pursed her lips, looking mildly chastised, but unwilling to yield. "You don't get it Draco," she said, shaking her head, "the wellbeing of all Werewolves depends on this being passed. I've spent so long pushing for this, and if it's overturned tomorrow, I might never get another chance! I have to be sure it's perfect."

Draco rested his head on the back of the sofa, staring up at the ceiling. "Hermione, the old toads in the Wizengamot would have to be literal fucking idiots to not approve it. You've done enough drafting, lobbying, and fundraising to make any politician orgasmic with glee. You're a fucking war heroine, best friends with The-Idiot-Who-Wouldn't-Die, and you've got the confirmed support of eighty-three percent of the current seats. Eighty-three percent, Granger! The chances of my Great Aunt Walburga coming back to life to declare her undying love for muggles are higher than that bill being denied! The beasts will get their precious rights, and you'll be heralded as the almighty hero and savior of werewolf kind."

Hermione scowled lightly at that last statement, but the pink flush staining her cheeks took away from the seriousness of the look.

Draco smirked. Four years of marriage, and he could still make her blush.

"Maybe…but I can't afford to be presumptuous."

His smirk fell with an audible groan. "Oh, come on-"

"I'm serious, Draco. It's true I have the support of a lot of the council…but there are still a few of the old, influential families that hate what I'm trying to do. I've dealt with them for years, and I know how they work. If there's even the slightest imperfection, they'll question it. If there's any possible loophole, they'll exploit it. They always play dirty when they're determined to have their way. I'm sorry I've been a bit absent lately-"

"A bit!?"

"-but there's too many things that could go wrong if I overlook even the slightest detail! That's why it has to be absolutely, unquestionably perfect. I'll have a break this evening when we see Harry and Ginny, but for now, the bill still requires my attention."

"You know what else requires your attention? Your handsome, supportive, exceedingly patient husband! Have you not neglected me enough?" Draco growled.

Hermione scoffed. "Don't be childish Draco, just because I've been working more doesn't mean I've neglected you-"

"You haven't kissed me for two days!" he snapped.

She furrowed her brow. "Of course I have, I kissed you just this morning-"

"No, I kissed you. And it was hardly even a peck!"

Hermione huffed, rolling her eyes at her needy husband. "Fine." She briskly stood and marched over to him. Draco smiled, tilting his head up in anticipation. Grabbing her husband's face, Hermione leaned down and planted her lips firmly on his. Draco immediately grabbed the back of her head to keep her from pulling away before taking control of the kiss, biting her lower lip to make her gasp.

Hermione's head went fuzzy as he slipped his tongue into her mouth to tangle with hers. He devoured her hungrily, the almost desperate manner of the kiss causing her knees to weaken. The Gryffindor's eyes fluttered in wonder as her heart hammered against her ribcage. Kissing Draco was always wonderful, but this…it almost felt like the very first time they'd ever snogged. She couldn't remember the last time she felt like this.

Come to think of it, when was the last time she let him kiss her like this? Even after four years of marriage, she and Draco had always put in effort to keep that spark of passion alive with overall success, so surely it couldn't have been that long…could it?

It took Draco's hand on her bum to make Hermione realize that she was straddling him, and when he squeezed, her muddled brain finally remembered what she was supposed to be doing. She broke the kiss to speak, but her husband was not deterred, tilting his head to trail open-mouthed kisses down her neck.

"Draco, oh, not now…" Hermione breathed.

"Yes, now," he growled as he nipped her earlobe, tightening his hold.

She bit her lip as arousal pooled in her lower belly, but her Gryffindor stubbornness prevailed. "Come tomorrow, we'll have the whole week to do this, but right now, I have to finish reviewing the bill." She managed to tear herself from his hold, but her efforts proved fruitless when Draco snagged her hips and yanked her back down into his lap, her back to his chest.

"Hermione."

Her name emerged as a rumble deep in his throat, and she shuddered as the sound caused a fresh gush of arousal to soak her knickers.

"Draco, stop it-"

Her demand was abruptly cut off when Draco shoved two fingers into her mouth. Hermione's squeal of indignance tapered off into a low whine when he slipped a hand under her jumper to grope her bare breast. "No bra? Are you sure you want me to stop?" Draco whispered huskily, tweaking an erect nipple. Hermione arched her back, the pleasure radiating down her spine.

Fuck…had it always felt this good? Though she didn't know why, her body felt thrice as responsive as usual.

She pulled his fingers from her mouth by his wrist and said, "Draco, please…later. Have to – oh – get back to work."

Finally, his hand fell away as he rested his forehead on her shoulder with a weary sigh.

Hermione felt a little bad…but how could she sit here and enjoy herself when the lives of hundreds of werewolves were resting on her shoulders?

"Hermione," Draco croaked, "do you realize it's been almost three weeks since we had sex?"

Her brain skidded to a screeching halt. She automatically opened her mouth to retort, but upon thinking it over, she realized with growing shock that she actually couldn't recall them being intimate lately. The most recent occasion she remembered was when he'd cornered her in the shower – nearly three weeks ago.

Seeming to sense her train of thought, Draco sighed again and kissed her shoulder. "I know this is important to you. I know you feel responsible, like every single werewolf in the world needs you right now…but I need you too, Hermione. You may be their rising hero, but you're my wife. I fucking miss you."

Shame caused a lump to form in Hermione's throat. She always knew her penchant for things like study and work occasionally caused her to get lost in them and lose sight of the world around her – but she hadn't realized just how lost she'd been lately. The past few weeks had been a blur of paperwork, meetings, and endless drafts. There were a few vague recollections of Draco forcing food in front of her on nights where she brought her work to the table and carrying her to bed after she'd fallen asleep in the study, but that was it.

Had she even thanked him once for his unwavering support? Had she taken the time ask him how his day was, or give him a goodnight kiss, or simply talk to him outside of vague grunts and hums of acknowledgment?

Eyes stinging, Hermione craned her neck and met his lips in a fierce, apologetic kiss. Draco held her tight enough to make breathing a chore, but it somehow wasn't enough.

"Oh Draco, I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed, lower lip trembling. "I just got so caught up and I – I never meant to ignore you like that. Please forgive me."

Draco laughed airily, swiping his thumb across her cheek. "Alright, alright, I hear you. Don't cry now, that wasn't my intention."

"Sorry," she sniffed.

He smiled softly, moving in to capture her lips once more. Hermione melted into him, moaning as he leisurely explored her mouth. He shuddered and ground his hips up against hers, allowing her to feel his arousal. Her insides clenched longingly at the feel of it, practically singing at the thought of it being buried within her.

Hermione rocked her hips against the bulge, drawing a hiss from Draco. "Fuck…take this off," he ordered, tugging the hem of her jumper. The Gryffindor obliged, tossing the garment away so that it landed on the desk amongst the papers. For the first time in weeks, work was the farthest thing from her mind.

Hermione sighed as the cold air caressed her tender peaks, leaving them stiff and begging for his attention. Draco grasped each perfect breast in his large hands, pinching, pulling, and rolling her nipples until she cried out with need.

The weeks of unintentional abstinence had left her whole body achingly sensitive, and for a fleeting moment, Hermione wondered how she'd possibly gone so long without her husband's touch. Three weeks, for Merlin's sake! They hadn't gone that long without sex since they initially became active! She silently promised to spend the entirety of their mini-vacation making it up to him.

"Oh Draco," she moaned as she continued to grind against his clothed erection. His hands gripped her waist to bring her desperate movements to a halt, and she whined at the loss of friction. "Hermione, you keep doing that, and I'm going to ruin these trousers," Draco panted.

She bit her lip and craned her neck to look back at him. "Can't have that. I need you to fill me up."

He groaned loudly before pulling frantically at her jeans, nearly tearing the button off in attempt to free her of them. Hermione lifted off his lap just long enough to shimmy out of her jeans and knickers, leaving them in a pile at their feet. Once she was settled back in his lap, Draco slid his fingers along her lower lips, breath hitching at how wet she'd become. Hermione gasped as her husband dipped two fingers inside her without preamble, her hungry pussy practically sucking them in.

"Oh fuck, you're so ready for me, love," Draco growled.

She keened as his long fingers pleasured her cunt while his thumb worked her clit, sending her too high too fast. "Now, Draco…need you right now!" Hermione cried as she tried to stave off her orgasm, knowing it would feel far better to come on his cock instead of his fingers.

Normally he would tease her a bit longer, but after weeks of nothing but his hand for relief, Draco was desperate to feel his wife wrapped around him. Hands shaking with desperation, he unzipped his trousers and withdrew his cock. Hermione reached blindly behind her until she grasped him, guided him to her entrance, and slid down without difficulty.

They both moaned aloud, the sensation of being one again after being apart for so long almost too much to handle.

"Oh fuck! Fuck, you're tight!" Draco hissed through clenched teeth, fingers digging into her hips. Hermione could only whimper in response as she rocked her hips forward, the tip of his cock caressing her g-spot and making her see stars. "Dra…co…" she choked, feeling her climax approaching at an alarming rate. Her husband reached around to rub her clit once, twice, then she was shattering around him with a hoarse cry.

"Fuck! I think that's a new record!" Draco said with a breathless laugh.

"S-Shut up…fuck me," Hermione gasped out.

"With pleasure, my darling bride," the Slytherin growled as he thrust up into her. The tightness in his loins told him he wouldn't last long himself, but he was determined to make her come once more. With that thought, he set a steady pace, hips meeting hers with purpose as he guided her onto his cock again and again.

Hermione braced her hands behind her on Draco's chest as she bounced on his lap, eyes rolled back into her head and mouth open in a silent cry. They'd done this position only a handful of times, and it had been quite a while since their last go at it. As a result, Hermione had forgotten how intense it could be; the angle gave him perfect access to her g-spot, and she swore she could feel the head of his cock hitting her cervix with each thrust.

Along with her body's heightened sensitivity, Hermione wasn't sure if she wanted to beg him to stop, or beg him to fuck her harder.

"Shit…love, I'm gonna come," Draco panted into her ear. Hermione could only gasp in response as he slammed her down on him one more time before climaxing with a strangled groan. She felt his cock pressing against her womb as his release flowed deep inside her, and before her brain could process it, Hermione was coming all over again.

"Ohhh!"

She practically screamed through her orgasm, the overwhelming pleasure seeming to clamp down on every cell in her body. She vaguely registered Draco's voice in her ear, whispering that she was a good girl for him, that she was his, that he loved her, and that she was doing so well as her body trembled violently around him.

It seemed like ages before Hermione's earth-shattering orgasm subsided, leaving her to slump against her husband, boneless and sated.

Their labored breathing mingled as he held her to him, peppering kisses across her neck and cheek. "Fuck, Hermione. That was…fuck," said her very articulate husband. The Gryffindor tried to answer, but her brain felt too muddied and shagged to form a proper sentence.

Draco chuckled at her lack of response. "That good, eh?"

"…Hnngh," was all Hermione could manage. Her body was positively thrumming with satisfaction, though her insides did feel a bit tender. She lazily stroked her abdomen, adoring the lingering warmth from his seed.

"…Hermione?" Draco questioned again, his tone now tinged with concern. He kissed her sweaty forehead, pushing her wild curls out of her face. "Darling? Was it too much?"

Hermione smiled a little at his fretting. She finally managed to peel her eyes open to send him a reassuring glance. "No…mm, was bloody perfect," she moaned.

Draco smirked. "I know I've shagged Hermione Granger well when she can't even speak proper English."

Hermione swatted at him half-heartedly. "Whatever, you wonderful prat."

They shared a tender kiss before her gaze drifted back to her work-laden desk.

Draco's chest rumbled in warning as he followed her gaze. "I swear to Merlin woman, if the word 'work' so much as passes your lips-"

"Actually, I was going to ask how much longer we have before we need to meet Harry and Ginny," Hermione interrupted.

Draco kissed her shoulder. "Hmm…another hour or so? I haven't exactly been keeping track of time sitting in here, Granger."

"Good." His wife climbed out of his lap, visibly shaky on her feet. Draco quickly stood with her, grasping her shoulders to steady her. He quirked a questioning brow as she looked up at him with a glint of mischief. "I'm going to suck you off at least twice before we leave. It will be part two of many apology orgasms I give you for my behavior these past weeks."

Draco's eyes bugged comically, mouth gaping like a fish's before snapping closed with a harsh gulp. Hermione giggled at his adorable reaction, loving that she could still catch him by surprise with her bold, filthy mouth after four years of marriage.

His gaze quickly darkened, then he was swooping his glorious wife into his arms, wondering what phenomenal deed he did in a previous life to deserve this woman.

"Never let it be said I ever denied my wife her wishes," Draco said huskily as he carried her to their bedroom. Hermione laughed breathlessly and snuggled against him, vowing to never go so long without him again if she could help it. Draco couldn't stop himself from smiling along with her.

It was good to have his wife back.