Chapter 2: Turkish Delight

Draco Malfoy sat at his large, ornate desk and stared at the piece of parchment as though it may at any point ignite and burn his face off. He'd read it, once and then twice with a throbbing hard cock and then a third time after supper with his hand wrapped around his shaft. He'd showered, gone to his bed and then awoke. To his counting, he had cum four times thanks to the little 'story' she'd tucked away in the folder of elf information. He was hard again, reading the first line, 'Draco Malfoy enters my office, I smell him before seeing him. His charcoal grey shirt and black tie fit him perfectly, he unbuttons his cuff and rolls his sleeve up, and I am wet.' Draco let out a puff of air. He knew that shirt, and he'd worn it when he'd applied for the unicorn breeding licence.

She'd been annoyed at him for misfiling his paperwork, and he'd rolled up his sleeves to combat the heat in her rooms. He'd seen her eyes grow wider and had assumed it was the sight of his dark mark. Now he knew better.

"fuck Granger," he groaned, his hand slipping down his stomach and under the waistband of his pyjama bottoms. He hadn't even changed, it was nearing eleven in the morning, and he was still in his bed things, a very unusual state for the head of the Malfoy family.

He wondered, as he pumped himself quickly, desperate for release, if this was an invitation. The thought spurred him. Hermione's way of letting him know she was interested in a tryst. "Fuckety Fuck." he groaned as he came for a fifth time thanks to her words. The thought of her open and inviting legs upon that atrociously messy desk had been the thing to push him over the edge. "If we are to have a sexual encounter, I'm going to have to stop shouting Fuckety Fuck every time I cum." he told himself as he observed his reflection in the silver coffee pot he'd been brought by one of the elves.

Fuck you, Hermione thought with a pursed-lip as he entered her office in the final minutes of the workday, charcoal grey shirt and black tie fitting him perfectly. "Hello, Granger." he smiled and slipped into the chair across from her.

"I thought I made it clear yesterday that you were to piss off until your home visit." she ground out from clenched teeth.

"I wanted to return this," Draco smirked. She'd been annoyed at him in the story too. Roleplay was afoot, and it was very sexy indeed. He slid the folder about Elven Welfare over the desk toward her. "I read it cover to cover, very informative." he narrowed his eyes, "and this…" he pulled the singular sheet of parchment from his pocket. He'd folded it, the bastard. "it was also very informative."

"what's that?" she squinted at the paper in his hand, attempting to pull off the gas-lighting Ginny had suggested.

"Don't play coy, Granger." he placed the folded square on her desk, just out of reach and offered her a mischievous grin before unclasping the button on his cuff. He started to roll the fabric up to his forearm.

"Fuck you." Hermione spat. She'd managed 'denial' for less than seven seconds. "FUCK YOU VERY MUCH, MALFOY." tears filled her eyes, and she reached across the table, grabbing her story from where he'd placed it.

"I'm confused." Malfoy paused in his seductive sleeve roll, his brow furrowed.

"You couldn't wait more than a day to come and taunt me?" she unfolded the paper and used her wand to flatten the creases he'd made. Of course, she was mortified but also insane and liked her parchments to be smooth. She slid the paper into the little drawer where she kept her filthy Draco Malfoy stories. "Do you know what? I'm glad," she muttered as she stood and straightened her pencil skirt. Draco was officially hard. "Because now I can stop worrying about what torture you're dreaming up, I can stop vomiting." she lifted her reusable water bottle and took a deep gulp. "Here you are… humiliating me…."

He couldn't let it go on. The tears rolling down Hermione's cheeks made him decidedly uncomfortable, and paired with his throbbing penis, it was becoming sexually confusing. "I thought it was an invitation, Granger," he stated, palms wide and face neutral. No smirk. "I apologise. I thought you'd slipped it to me on purpose, and I came here because I thought it was your way… as a written word devotee of initiating a carnal rendezvous." He plastered on his most sincere face and wished she would sit back down, the flare of her hips in the grey pencil skirt was doing nothing for the pulse between his legs "had I known the article was not meant for my eyes, I would have never come in here, so brazenly. I feel that despite your animosity and my irritating ability to appear at your most hectic moments, we have developed an excellent working relationship, and our cooperation is paramount to my business…" she heaved a sigh as he continued to rabble and finally flopped back into her chair.

"Shut up, Malfoy." she groaned and rubbed the bridge of her nose, hyper-aware that he smelled magnificent and that he'd come to her expecting sex. Expecting the kind of sex she'd written about.

"Can I just add one more thing?" he asked, his voice deferential and almost soothing. She waved a hand, indicating he should go ahead but continued not to make eye contact, instead opting to focus on the toe of her stiletto, shaking nervously under the desk. "I am a fan. I very much enjoyed your… story." the implication of his words, his tone, the fact he'd come here in that shirt smelling so good forced her eyes to his.

"very much indeed," he offered her a conspiratorial smile, and her head cocked to one side, like a Crup catching scent. "Well," He clapped his hands and braced himself on the arms of the chair, praying to the old gods that his indecent bulge remained covered by the raincoat he carried. "We'll speak no more of it, please; again, accept my apologies."

"Wait." Hermione blurted before she could stop herself. He didn't speak, not daring to tempt fate and remained half hovered from the chair in her office. "You wanted to do that?" she tapped the small drawer where she kept her… hobby. The tension in her shoulders from 2 years of involuntary celibacy and overwork rippled at the promise of what might be coming next.

"Yes." he sat firmly back down on the chair, voice unwavering, keeping his response monosyllabic lest she changes her mind.

"with me?" she sounded incredulous.

"Yes," he answered with a firmness she really hadn't expected. His tongue darted out and wet his lips, and with the boldness born of a man of the high society, he reached for his sleeve and once again began to roll it up to his forearm. She gasped and clamped her bottom lip between her teeth. Heat and liquid pooled in her gut.

"Wait." she stopped him with an outstretched hand. "rules. There has to be rules."

"I would expect nothing less from you, Granger." he smiled and paused, his fingers lingering at his sleeve.

"Turkish delight." she swallowed. "If I say Turkish delight, I want to stop." she drew her lips to one side thoughtfully.

"What if you want Turkish delight?"

"I won't. I hate it."

"What If we're in Turkey, and it's delightful?"

"We won't be." She stared him down, daring him to ask another stupid question.

"Turkish delight it is then." he nodded.

"and no kissing." her brows furrowed. "I don't want this to be confusing" she wasn't sure why kissing would be more confusing than his penis inside her body, but at the moment, it felt like it would be.

"Disappointing, but I acquiesce," he sniffed.

"And don't call me a Mudblood." she looked at her desk then back up at him. "Some men, in the heat of things, enjoy throwing out slurs, calling their partners whores and sluts… I don't like any of that, but I can tolerate it… if I must, but not that word."

"I would never." he looked at her earnestly, eager to convey how very much he wouldn't "Ever, Granger." He let a slight smile tug at his lips, "and I've never been one to enjoy verbally assaulting women who graciously let me… inside." he concluded and moved his fingers once again to his sleeve, rolling the taught fabric over the swell of his well-defined forearm.

Hermione breathed and rolled her shoulders. "What do you want now, Malfoy? I'm a very busy woman." She narrowed her eyes and bit her lip playfully. It was on. The words of the story he'd read and reread poured through his mind, the script for their tryst.

"You." He said coolly, flicking his gaze back up to her, "I want you on this mess you call a desk." he looked at the neat piles of paper. She'd cleaned up, "Ah, it's actually very well organised… should I?" he motioned to sweep, and her eyebrows shot up.

"If you want me to Turkish Delight you, then yes, by all means, undo a days worth of work." her face was screwed in disbelief. "Fillelius", she muttered, and the stacks neatly flew into their appropriate filing cabinets.

His fingers moved to his other sleeve, he pulled at the button to undo it, and it popped off "bother," he muttered, scanning the room for where it could be. She couldn't help the titter that escaped her lips.

"Don't laugh." he mused as he started to roll his other sleeve "You hussy…" he experimented with a word he'd never said before and scrunched his nose with distaste "no, I don't like that at all… Once you mentioned it, I wanted to see if I could be vitriolic? I can't, not in this situation."

Hermione couldn't help the smile that crinkled her eyes as she stood behind her desk. "All these years and all it took was the promise of a fuck to stop you being a prat."

"I'm a simple man Granger" his eyes were trained once again on the swell of her hips under that blasted pencil skirt. "Desk… now… please." he indicated the clear surface in front of him and watched as she slowly, teasingly, walked around to stand in front of him, her arse perching on the very edge of her worktop.

He let out a slow breath and placed his now bared forearms on either side of her hips, still sitting, leaning into her, grazing his nose against her hip. "It's going to be bloody hard not to kiss you, Granger."