Chapter 32

The guests hadn't left yet, but it was the tail end of the evening. Hermione sat with her glass of champagne. In all honesty, she didn't love champagne, particularly late in the evening like this. It wasn't something that improved as the night went on.

Draco had lost all interest in conversation, and they sat opposite each other in the seating area, while Narcissa was still a perfect host to their guest. "It's been such a lovely evening," Narcissa said.

Honestly, Hermione wasn't sure why Draco hadn't left yet. It wasn't loyalty to his parents or their cause. It was about them. Him and her. This tense evening. Maybe he kept her here because he knew she couldn't leave until he did. And maybe the tension in what was to come once the guests left.

Crossing her legs, she sat back in her chair, her fingers holding the stem of her champagne glass on the armrest of this very antique chair. She had his full attention and he watched everything she did. Every expression, every movement. Of course he knew it made her uncomfortable, because no one ever paid attention to her the way he did. It was a given in her life. A constant. Draco Malfoy. So many years she'd spent hating him. Because he caught everything, every misstep, every insecurity, every time someone dismissed or belittled her. Every time her friends had treated her callously. Those were the worst.

"I'll see you to your carriage," Narcissa said, rising from her chair. "I understand there are some wonderful artifacts uncovered in Haxvild. It's so fascinating what's being discovered by this ancient wizard society."

"Yes, yes, extraordinary, the work is continuing diligently. There are plans for making a museum."

Hermione had to admit she was curious. Remnants of an ancient society naturally drew her, but she was still too angry to embrace her curiosity about anything related to wizarding society. Even Danish wizarding history.

Everyone left the room, except for them. Now it was just them, and it felt like an inevitable point.

"Maybe I'll take you to this museum," Draco said, still not having shifted from his chair.

"I doubt I'll be around by the time it's finished."

He smiled. "We'll see. Maybe I'll be one of those I don't want you, but I don't want anyone else to have you kind of man." Finally, he rose and walked over to her, then held out his hand. "Come, my little whore."

With tight expression, she looked up at him. "Oh, that put me in my place," she said wryly.

He wasn't moving, so she had to put her hand in his. How could he be so cold blooded and so warm at the same time? But she let go the instant she was standing, and walked ahead, into the dark corridors of the house.

"That dress was a spectacular choice," he said behind her.

"Did you seduce yourself by picking it?"

Part of her was trying to bring back the goading, because there was a heavy and tense energy flowing between them. Anticipation pressed on her like a cloying blanket, because she felt that this night wasn't over.

They walked. Not together. She walked, he followed. Or stalked.

"So how should we do this, Granger?" he asked, and she stopped short. A question she hadn't expected. "This is the plan, isn't it? Should I take you right here?"

Fingers lightly touched her shoulder, and the skin on her whole body reacted to the touch. The fingers were replaced by his lips, exactly like he'd kissed her before. The soft press of lips to her heated skin. It was impossible not to feel it. They couldn't be near each other and not be on edge. "Is this what you want?"

This was the plan, but she absolutely didn't want this, because it felt too fraught. A step that couldn't be undone. Because maybe there was a part in her that feared him, just like he feared her. After pummeling the defenses they had against each other, maybe they were too weak to withstand this. Was it even possible to be casually distant from this act? With her nemesis, her constant.

His hand at her neck turned her to him, straight into a kiss. That taste again, the scent of him. It was all so overwhelming. The sensations working down every nerve in her body, lighting her on fire. How could this be anything but fraught and intense with him? And there were no safeguards now. No crowds to moderate them, or an agreement that this wasn't what they did.

His body to hers felt solid and imposing. Arms held her close. The sweetness was undoing her. How was it she could feel like this with him? It was utterly wrong. She needed more.

The wall pressed into her behind her, and he encompassed the entirely over everything else. She needed more, needed to feel more of him, and was rewarded as her legs wrapped around him. And of course he found that spot at her neck, the one he'd discovered mere hours ago. Her vision swam shut, unable to withstand the onslaught. Tingling sensations radiated down her, melting her insides with a fire that wouldn't stop burning. The friction between them was immediately rewarding.

"Is this what you want, Granger?"

"Yes," she said breathily, because there was no better lie than the truth.

The urgency took over, and it was so much better than having to think about what she was doing. All she needed right now was him inside of her. And his lips. His breath and hands. She needed to know he needed this as much as she did.

But the cruellest thing he could do right now was to leave her with this white-hot desire. Right now, she'd never needed anything more.

In and of itself, this was a real win for him. She wanted him, in a surprisingly overwhelming way. The gown was too constrictive to breathe properly, and it provided barriers she didn't want.

She wasn't sure how it happened, but he was there, pressing into her. The sensation froze her, her breath, her mind. Her entire being had been reduced to the pleasure that was taking over everything. The groan in her ear further melting away her consciousness.

So much tension was coming to the surface, being exorcised. Energy flowed through her entire body, and she needed more—needed his lips, needed him buried deep inside her. She needed his desire.

Sharp thrusts pounded into her. There was nothing gentle about this, but she didn't want it gentle. There was something honest about the brutality. Wasn't this a pure reflection of them? Every harsh trust felt right.

It was too much, too intense. Her body contracted around him and drew together in a release so strong it took everything, submerging her into exquisite pleasure. Wave after harsh wave. She could do nothing but experience the onslaught. His and hers, the raw pleasure of it unlike anything she'd experienced before.

Even her release was harsh. Everything about him was harsh, including the way he pressed her into the wall with his body.

The pleasure turned mercilessly painful as it subsided, continuing even as her body couldn't take anymore. But she couldn't escape it as it stole every bit of her strength. She didn't know where she was. Her lungs were burning with pain, while at the same time, her mind was screaming for more.

Oh, god. This had just happened. Her mind was starting to grabble with the implications, but she couldn't get her thoughts in order. In fact, she wasn't entirely sure she could stand if he put her down.

Echoes of her release were still torturing her in their keen sharpness, and she just wanted to melt to the floor. And would if he was holding her up. Until he drew away from her. He wasn't looking her in the eyes as he righted himself. It was hard to tell how he felt about this. She had no idea how she felt about this.

With his hand on her shoulder, he urged her to move, and they walked silently. His spend was running down her thighs and she wasn't sure how she felt about that either. She both hated and love it, but for entirely different reasons. Was that wrong? Was there something wrong with her for being so… receptive?

This had happened. The toll it would take was uncertain. It was unchartered territory. With anyone else, this was a sign that things would get easier for her. With him, who knew. Nothing was ever easy between them, and this could make things a hundred times worse, for all she knew. What she did know was that this had brought to head whatever it was going on between them, and he was infinitely harder to manipulate.

They walked until they reached their doors, and he opened his, holding it open for her. He wanted her in his room. "I think we've graduated to this, don't you?"

No, she wanted to say. For a moment, she felt a sense of panic, because what she'd done was to pick a fight with the most disturbed person she knew, and then had sex with them. This was insanity, but here was no other way out of this than to go through it. The hope was that she wouldn't entirely lose herself in the process—like she'd just done a minute ago.

She had no idea what awaited her behind that door. This really was a moment when she needed to be brave. This was the plan, remember?

A/N Finally. These two never make it easy. On another note, most of you know I've been sick, hence my posting unfortunately slowed down. I'm starting to feel better, so I'm finally launching a project I've had to put on hold. A new scifi series, called the Nirvana series, a free subscription that emails a chapter every week. So go to the website Thenirvanaseries dot com, and click the Read Chapter One button. If it grabs you, please subscribe. It's free, and will continue to be so for the entire series. I'm planning to spend the next five years or more on this series, and it's a large commitment. I'm trying this model because I'm hoping to move away from Amazon, who have helped me create a writing career, but Bezos doesn't need any more money at this point (and they take a large cut). It may not work, but I'm giving this a go. Obviously, I'll continue to write fan fiction, because Hermione and Draco… How can I resist?