She was stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. So stupid. Hermione stood in her washroom, the late afternoon sun slanting through the tiny window providing all the light she needed to view her shame. She was naked once again, staring at a body covered in sex, with the man responsible for the sore satisfied twinge of her body just on the other side of that door. He was passed out, finally sated, hugged up naked against her pillows. Not a hint of embarrassment or regret on him.
She almost wanted to barge back in there and announce her pregnancy so he could share in her post-shagging melt down. But then she'd have to deal with the consequences of that announcement and she wasn't ready for that drama anytime soon. She was still too busy processing the fact that Hermione Granger, smartest Witch of her age had simply let go of all of her common sense to indulge a fantasy.
It had felt like some fairytale movie. One of those Rom-Coms she watched with her mother. A guilty pleasure. It wasn't like she was the type of girl who had good looking men just sweep her into their arms for romantic kisses. The only thing that had been missing was the dramatic music. Why not experience it while she could? It felt heavenly to just kiss him back as if she were unencumbered and it didn't matter one iota who he was and she was and what the future held. She had justified it. What harm does it do to just indulge a little bit she had told herself.
Her own curiosity had always been a curse and the vague shadowy recall from their night together had been making her brain itch wildly. So she had indulged. She had indulged and memorized his taste and scent and the weight of his hands on her. She'd immersed herself in the moment in a way she so rarely did. The present was just so damn good she didn't want to leave it. She didn't want to deal with their past, recent or ancient. She sure as hell didn't want to deal with their future, as fraught with pitfalls as that was. So she had instead concentrated on the press of his lips and the slow wet slide of his tongue and how good and solid and real his body had felt pressed up against hers.
She was no prude, considered herself sexually educated. But her past experience did not prepare her for the sharp snap of his hips, the charge of his touch, the drowning twisted gasping for life feeling of climbing to orgasm with him. She didn't know if it was the thrill of a new forbidden partner, skill, or just the flat out overwhelming and frankly astonishing attraction she had towards him. Everything about him set her senses alight. Made her want. Want so badly. Startling silver eyes that fascinated, lips that quirked and tugged in amusement or even scorn, clothes that hugged his tall lean muscled body. Strong hands, long fingers, hips that twisted when he slid into her space. The scent and taste and warm weight of him. Every touch had her throbbing and breathing deeper and craving more. She had felt needy and sensual and sexy in a way she never had before and the combination had her greedily taking what he offered over and over with no boundaries
Hermione had had plenty of sex, but never sex like this. She'd never had sex that lasted all morning. With slow sensual caresses and sweet kisses and dozing in between. She'd never been sticky and swollen and over-sensitive and still enjoyed deep slow penetration from behind while her neck was layered with kisses and her breasts were stroked and fondled. She'd never had a man caress her back and her buttocks while he rammed inside pushing her facedown in the mattress so he could get deeper, spear her harder. Never had her hair pulled just hard enough to bow her body without sharp pain so he could reach her lips for kisses that stole her breath. She'd never been kissed so thoroughly. She'd never had a man cup her ass and force her legs wider so he could drag his tongue over her freshly fucked bits until her legs trembled uncontrollably and she gushed wetness over his mouth and chin and bed three times and begged him to fuck her please because she couldn't stand it anymore. And fuck her he did, with legs thrown over his shoulders, her entire body bent so he could get as deep as possible. She'd never had a man pull her on top and still roll his hips firm and rhythmic to meet her and get that snap. Sit up and lick and suck and fondle her breasts while he surged inside her, buried his face in her neck gripping her hips while he came yet again.
An entire morning and half an afternoon of sensual pleasure between bouts of sex that left her gasping and satisfied. It had not been good. It had been fantastic. An experience that begged to be experienced. In her wildest fantasies she had never even considered that she would ever have such a morning.
But now, standing in the harsh overhead lights looking at her helplessly tangled hair and red swollen lips and red love splotches from head to toe, she could see how stupid it had been. No matter how good the sex had been. There were consequences. She wasn't some silly floozy who could have a meaningless affair. She was soon to be a mother. A mother who's child's father was not going to be interested in lazy sexy mornings when he found out that he was soon to be a father. He would be furious. He would be mean. He would maybe ask her to drop the pregnancy the way Ron had. She had been prepared for all those things. Before. Before she had spent hours enjoying his touch and indulging in a wild fantasy that he was hers. But he was not hers and now the emotional fall out was going to be far worse, far more painful.
Her hair would not be tamed by wand alone, this mess required water and product, and she simply could not face Malfoy looking like a feral beast. So she delayed the inevitable ugly confrontation and climbed in the shower. Letting hot sudsy water wash evidence of her dallience down the drain. She wished she could scrub her brain as thoroughly. Be careful what you wish for. She had wanted to remember what sleeping with Malfoy was like. Now she knew she'd never forget. It would downright haunt her for the rest of her days.
She worked a brush through her tangled hair liberally coated with conditioner to minimize the damage and applied liberal product so it could be allowed to air dry without becoming a frizz ball fit to rival her worst school days and tried to figure out what to wear. In her bathroom she had nothing but a fuzzy rug and a handful of towels. She would either need to transfigure something, which while serviceable would not necessarily look flattering or wear her robe in the other room to rummage through her closet. She'd look better, but also risk waking Malfoy. For all her need to speak with him, she was not at all prepared and damp hair and ill fitting clothes would not help.
Where had this streak of vanity come from?
Regardless of calling herself nine types of fool she leaned into the mirror and applied a sheen of pink lip gloss and a touch of mascara and eyeliner. Just so she didn't look so pale and washed out. Cursing mad at herself she reached for her robe, wrapping it securely around her frame, before peeking out the door. Malfoy was gone. For a moment it hurt so badly she couldn't even sort out the feeling from the dropping feeling in her stomach. He'd gotten his fun and bailed. She had two or three wet breaths on the verge of tears before she pulled herself together and reminded herself it was for the best. She had been avoiding him anyway.
There was the future and the child and she needed to keep a good head on her shoulders. She pushed into the room going to her closet and rummaging furiously. She clearly couldn't keep her hands off of him in person so they would need to arrange things via owl. No more kisses in stairwells and tempting glances. She'd send him a clear and concise message. She shimmied into panties and sports bra, no care whatsoever to what they did to her silhouette. Who cared what she looked like, no one of consequence would be seeing her underthings anytime soon thank you very much. She'd simply tell him that for reasons of her own it was important that their recent dalliance be denied and if he could handle that she would appreciate the courtesy. Jeans, white tank top. She was overcomplicating things. Like Ronald always said, life didn't need to be so damn hard.
Just as furious with herself as she was with Malfoy she spun around to march into the living room and get the note written and sent before she simmered down. Only to almost fall over her feet to find the man in question leaning up against her door frame watching her.
"Jesus Malfoy!" She threw up her hands in startelement and tried to catch her breath. "You scared the wits out of me."
"I doubt that's possible," He gave her a friendly warm smile as he pushed off the door and came further into the room. He laid the bag he was carrying on the bed. "I didn't know what you would be hungry for so I got a little of everything. Sandwiches, soup, smoothies...I assume it's too late for coffee but if you need some I can run back out."
"I have coffee here," she responded promptly, shifting her emotions into check. He hadn't left. He'd gone to grab them something to eat. If she wasn't careful she'd burst into tears and how on earth would she explain that her emotions were on a roller coaster because she was pregnant. She was too pregnant for coffee anyway, she was limiting her caffeine and made due with two strong cups of tea.
He was coming for her, taking her hand, pulling her back into his orbit. Leaning in like he kissed her everyday, soft and warm and intimate on her lips. "Would you like to eat in here or in the kitchen?"
She needed to stop this. She needed to pull back and establish some boundaries. She needed to talk to him about never seeing him again and how she needed his cooperation to pretend he'd never seen her in the first place. She needed to not be lulled by how good it felt to be in his arms while he nuzzled her neck, hand sliding down to fondle her bottom, kissing her just above her ear. Instead she was leaning into his touch, enjoying it. This was all going to blow up in her face. She knew that. She knew it and yet she found herself murmuring that lunch sounded great and holding his hand while they made their way into her little kitchen. This was going to be so very bad.