Chapter 3: Bicorn Farm
"It's going to be bloody hard not to kiss you, Granger."
"I'm sure you'll manage Mr Malfoy," she whispered.
"no… no, don't call me mister, it makes me think of my father… Malfoy is fine, or Draco if you're feeling generous" he pushed himself to stand, hovering over her and moving his mouth to her ear to whisper 'generous' seductively. He intended on being very generous indeed.
"Alright, then Draco." she gave a slight nip to his ear lobe and felt him almost fold on top of her with a grunt. She wasn't sure if it was her teeth or the utterance of his name, but her effect on him emboldened her.
"The no kissing rule, does that apply to all body parts or just the lips?" he uttered, his own lips grazing her jaw.
"Just the lips, I think." she could barely speak. The feel of his breath on her was everything. He gripped her hips with a decisive movement and pushed her further back onto the desk.
"Now that I have your attention Granger…" he slid his hands up her thighs under the blessed and blasted fabric of the pencil skirt. "I think we need to have a chat about how you talk to me when I'm in this office. I demand respect."
"Respect is earned, Malfoy." she groaned as his fingers hooked into the waist of her underpants and dragged them down. She was eternally grateful that her mother had sent her clean, fancy knickers the week before. Not thongs, because she hated feeling like something was digging in her arse all day, instead lacy things that looked pretty but were actually comfortable.
"I'll earn your respect," he grumbled, low in his chest as he lifted her legs to drag the knickers down her calves and over the spike of her heel. Hermione pushed the hair out of her eyes and tried not to focus on how much she liked the feeling of his fingers on her skin.
He tucked her pants into the pocket of his trousers, not in the script but something he wanted to do nonetheless, "These skirts you wear" his mouth was dry as he pushed the taught fabric up her thighs. "They undo me." some more improvisation on Malfoy's part, her stomach flipped. She needed whatever this was to get a move on, lest she find her good sense and put an end to it.
"How about you undo the buttons on your slacks?" she shot him a half-grin, an embarrassed blush spread up her cheeks, and she gripped her lip in her teeth, enjoying the crease in his eye very much as he smirked at her quip.
Sex for Hermione Granger until this point had been safe, quiet, exclusively in a bed, wildly missionary and overwhelmingly self-conscious. To say her current state was out of character would be a devastating understatement, akin to calling Nagini a slightly larger than standard snake.
Like with most of her life, she preferred to read than partake. On paper, the world made sense, but it didn't in the flesh. Flesh often found her overthinking and not being able to enjoy the moment. This moment was different. He'd seen, what she considered to be, one of her most embarrassing secrets, and rather than laugh, he'd enjoyed it. That simple fact loosened the chokehold of anxiety a little.
"I'll make you a deal, Granger." he moved in to speak close to her ear again, sending an eruption of goose-flesh down her neck "Button for a button?" he moved his fingers to the to top fastening of her blouse.
"I want to keep my bra on," she said quickly. The chokehold had loosened, not vanished. She was still Hermione.
"You're the boss." he pressed a kiss to the delicate flesh just below her jawline, and it made her whimper. She hadn't known that small patch of skin was so vulnerable.
"This doesn't change anything. I'm still not signing the permits for the Bicorn farm" her words ghosted against his cheek as she returned to the safety of the story she'd written.
"let's not be too hasty, Miss Granger, at least let me make my full presentation." he quoted her text verbatim, which was incredibly hot, as he popped the third button and was finally able to slip a hand into her blouse and cup her breast. He couldn't understand why she'd keep them hidden. The bra was thin and lacy, and other than offering support, it did nothing to alter their shape or size, which were both perfections, in his humble opinion. She arched into his touch, and he desperately wished he had more fingers. His movements became hurried. He once again fumbled, this time sending one of the pearly fasteners from her shirt flying across the room "bother," Hermione mimicked his previous outburst with a breathy laugh, cut short when his hands slid up her ribs to return to his new favourite haunt.
"you're perfect," he muttered, dipping his head to kiss the exposed flesh of the top of her breasts with a reverence that shook her, his thumbs moving gently back and forth over her already peaked nipples. She shrugged out of her blouse, tossing it behind her.
I'm not perfect, She thought, as she tried to push the creeping thought patterns which threatened to spoil her experience back into the lead box of her mind. She needed a task to distract her and so moved her fingers to Draco's shirt, unbuttoning quickly and with dexterity despite his ministrations generating more electricity in her body than she was used to. He pulled back from her to remove the garment and winced when her fingertip paused on one of his many scars, one of the numerous reasons he wasn't pick of the littler when it came to ladies.
She shuffled forward on the desk, dragging her fingers down his stomach, feeling relieved that she wasn't the only one marred with self-doubt and defects. She pulled her hand over the front of his trousers and, feeling how hard he was beneath the fabric, set her heart to pounding more fervidly.
"it looks like a promising presentation Draco." she leaned forward as she unbuckled his belt, surprising even herself when she pressed a kiss on his solar plexus.
"Fuck." he muttered, shaking himself free of his trousers. His hands moved back to her skirt, pushing it firmly up her thighs and over her bottom till it was no more than a thick belt and she was bared to him. He hooked her left leg over his forearm, dragging her to him. He could scarcely breathe seeing her on her desk, opened up to him. He'd wanted to take it slow, to tease her, but the story had been fast and rough, and he had literally no self-restraint left. "Are you sure about this, Granger?" his palm pressed against her pubic bone, and she bucked into his touch.
She nodded, watching him intently. She tried to imagine what he thought if he was excited because it was her or just because it was anyone. If their previous animosity was adding to his arousal or lessening it. Before she could over-analyse the situation any further, he was inside her, filling her in a new way. He angled her, using the leg he held in his arm to manoeuvre her into an ideal position. "Oh Merlin, Granger," he groaned, folding forward, resting his forehead against hers, his eyes screwed shut. He was still inside her, clenched and tense and waiting for something. She wasn't sure what.
"Move Draco." She whispered, her breath kissing his lips. His eyes flickered open and fixed to hers. They were too close and somehow not close enough. Hermione wished there was music or a TV, talking or sound to occupy the silence her brain liked to fill with worry. Was he not moving because her vagina was weird? Was she too tight? Too wide? Crooked? It hadn't been something she'd even considered before. Maybe Ron had been too polite to say, 'Hey Love, you've got a squint minge'. He finally rolled his hips with a throaty groan, ripping her from her panicked thought spiral. Draco moved his palm from her hip to her arse and lifted her for a moment from her desk. He thrust into her again, and she felt the heat build in her as he hit a long since touched spot. Perhaps this time would be different.
"Is that OK?" he asked with a strained throat.
"Yes." she tilted her pelvis ever so slightly, her body craving another strike in that deep place he'd managed to smash. "more than OK," she breathed into his ear, his face still inexplicably close to hers. He thrust again, and once again, she felt fire stirring in her stomach and the tightening of the muscles in her thighs. The leg he was holding kicked involuntarily, taking her back. She'd expected pleasure, to feel good but not to climax. As soon as the thought entered her head that she might cum, the coiling stopped, as though her brain had hit pause on her orgasm to punish her for over-thinking. He pounded into her over and over. Hermione rode on the pleasant waves of passion. She listened to the sound of his flesh slapping hers and found she was almost lulled by it. It was nice. It was close, but as always, no coconut.
"Shit." he breathed, his eyes screwed shut his neck, snapping back. "You're perfect." he barked, gripping her knee tighter. "I'm sorry… I Can't" He thrust into her once again deeper. She watched as he fought some kind of inner battle, her own climax no longer on the table, so to speak "… Fuckety fuck!" he bellowed before slumping forward, bracing himself on his elbows, his damp forehead pressed against hers, his breathing laboured and ragged.
"I'm sorry, Granger." He muttered, his lips a hair from hers. His eyes still screwed shut, still inside her.
"Fuckety fuck?" she snorted. She couldn't help herself.
"it's my thing." he withdrew, pulling up his trousers as he stumbled back from her. His cheeks were red with exertion and embarrassment.
"It's cute." she laughed and shot him a reassuring grin, reaching for her wand to clean herself up.
"Wait." he put out a hand. "You didn't finish."
"Sure I did." she lied, with no conviction. Usually, the barest pretence was enough for the man to drop it.
"Em, no," he reached out and let his fingers walk up her thigh, "you did not."
"And how do you know?" she swatted his hand away, standing from the table and pulling her skirt down.
"Well, you didn't shout Fuckety Fuck for a start." He smirked at her, his grey eyes boring into her soul, and she couldn't help but laugh "let me do the gentlemanly thing, Hermione" He reached out again, grabbing her hip.
"There's no point." she rolled her eyes. "I appreciate your even offering, it's more than most would, but I don't… "finish"." there she'd said it. She turned from him to face the desk, her cheeks almost merlot with embarrassment and shame.
"Ever?" He sounded aghast.
"No, I do… when I'm alone, just not with other people in the room. Ever."
"Well, now you've told me Weasley couldn't get you off, and that's just made me want to try even bloody more." She felt the length of him press into her back. His hot breath caressed her ear. "Let me try Granger. It's the least I can do." he dragged her skirt up again slowly, waiting for her to 'Turkish Delight' him, but she remained silent.