Chapter 4: Healing Brews and Herbal Remedies
He slipped his fingers between her legs, tracing his long digits up her thighs and back to the hot, wet centre where they'd just been joined "put your hand on mine and show me what you like when you're all alone, Granger." he growled as he circled her sensitive spot. "I know how much you love teaching me lessons." she shuddered, less at his touch and more at his words. She knew the sensible thing would be to walk away, say no thank you rather than face the inevitable disappointment of another agonising build with no release. Still, something about his breath and words made her core clench with promise. She put her hand on his and increased the pressure of his movement, slowing his pace, changing his directionality from circular to more 'back and forth.
"Is this how you did it when you read your little story about me, Granger?" he asked, and she shuddered. Draco paused in his movements, a thought hitting him. He remained still, just kept a light pressure on her dripping delta and whispered, "Do you touch yourself in this office and think about me?" she moaned, an actual moan, and he felt her stomach clench beneath the arm he'd wrapped around her for stability. "Are there more? I bet you have a whole library of filthy tales." she nodded, she wasn't sure why she was nodding, but she was. She was also very turned on. He wanted to pat himself on the fucking back. Of course, Granger's thing was words. She was a bloody word-smith and a bookworm, and… he started moving his fingers again back and forth, front to back, with firm pressure. "Do you open your legs wide? Do you put your heels up on the desk Granger and rub yourself like this and imagine it's me, my fingers, my tongue?" she shook, and her head lolled forward, words flew from him and left no space for Hermione to think, all she could focus on was him and his voice and his words and his inexplicably hot breath. He moved his less busy hand from her stomach to her chest and gripped her. Slipping his fingers under the cup of her bra, Draco tugged at her nipple. "I'm going to be so hard every time I walk in here now, you know that, don't you? I mean, I already am fifty per cent of the time with you in these fucking skirts and heels with your teeth clenched on that lip." he kissed her neck, she pushed harder on his fingers between her legs, but he turned his hand and swatted her digits away. "I know what I'm doing now Granger, you're an excellent teacher." he groaned, feeling himself growing hard again. "Put your hands on the desk and let me tell you a little story." she complied, without question. She was turned on, turned around, lost in a haze of lust and filthy words. "Every time I come in this room from now on, I'll be professional and follow all your little bureaucratic rules, but I'll be thinking about this. I'll be thinking about how good your arse feels pressed against me. I'll be thinking about you, sitting behind that messy desk, with ink on your cheek, rubbing yourself back and forth, back and forth," he narrated his movements, "thinking about me."
She wanted to tell him that he wasn't so special, that he was just an empty vessel she'd poured her sexual fantasies into, he was just a face, but it wasn't true. "yes." she breathed as he picked up his pace, she fell forward resting her elbows on the desk to give herself more purchase. His hand slipped away from her chest as she moved. "Do you write about anyone else, Granger?" he dared ask when she ground herself harder into his hand.
"No, Malfoy," she answered honestly, she knew inflating his ego served her no purpose, but she couldn't at that moment lie, "just you."
"Fuck." he was throbbing hard again. For the second time in fifteen minutes, Draco freed himself from his trousers. Took himself in hand and rubbed against her opening, a gentle request for re-admittance, she shimmied back a little onto him, and he let out a gust of grateful air from his lungs.
"Don't stop talking, though, okay?" she arched her back and dragged her nails over the wood of her desk as he slid into her from behind and hit, with more accuracy this time, the spot he'd knocked into before.
"Do you remember in 8th Year when we both went back to Hogwarts?" he kept his hand moving in time with his strokes from behind. She nodded and groaned "and we'd sit in the library in that section just before the restricted area. You on the big table and me on the small?"
"Yes, Draco, I remember."
"Do you remember you'd catch me staring?" he ran his free hand up the length of her back and tangled it in her hair, not pulling it, just tugging at her gently.
"Scowling, I'd catch you scowling at me." she exhaled.
"Semantics" he pulled his hand back from her hair and squeezed her bare arse. She let out a moan of delight at the feel of his fingers digging into her flesh. "This is what I was imagining. I wasn't scowling at you Granger, I was just hard as a broom and terrified you'd notice. I'd imagine you coming up to tell me how impressed you were by my potion brewing that day…."
She couldn't contain the burst of scoffing laughter that rolled from her lips. Draco punished her insolence by increasing the pressure of his fingers on her slit and her arse. Her laughter soon turned to a guttural mewling. "and you'd reward me by letting me fuck against the potions shelves."
"Those books always smelled the best." She noted in an almost incoherent babble.
"Yes, Granger." she got him. "They fucking did."
"I'd put my hand over your mouth, and you'd brace yourself on the advanced shelf. Near Danicus Greenwood's 'Healing Brews and Herbal Remedies'" Draco's fantasies were a lot more logistically detailed than Hermione's, but she didn't seem to mind the minutia of his musings. In fact, her groans suggested she particularly enjoyed them.
"That's such a good book!" She almost screamed as he quickened his pace on all fronts and felt her walls flutter around him.
"And Pince would walk by, but I'd pretend I was just helping you reach for something all the while keeping my fingers moving on you." He added pressure to the space her legs and thrust deeper "Just" he sped up his fingers "like" she was arching backwards, her walls started pulsing against him "this." he concluded, and she made a noise, the likes he'd never heard, somewhere between a scream and a sigh. Like something had ripped from Hermione, and the relief when it did overwhelmed her. The force of her orgasm had pulled his own from him as if dragging it behind, and he let out a fractured "Fuckety-fuck".
She expelled a breath of a laugh as she pressed her sodden forehead into the desk, feeling his weight fold down on her and his lips lavish tiny kisses upon her bared shoulder. As he softened inside her, she felt, much to her amazement and his, her walls pulse and a second more muted wave of pleasure wash over her. She moaned into the wood as he moaned on her back. She felt as though they stayed slumped over her desk like clay for hours, but perhaps it was only minutes.
"Granger?" he muttered into her shoulder.
"yes?" she breathed. He was heavy but comforting in the post-coital malaise.
"Did you cum that time?" he chuckled into her skin.
"Fuckety-fuck." she muttered, bracing her hands on the desk, indicating her desire to disengage and stand, feeling his laughter vibrate through her spine and into her belly, reigniting for just a second the dying embers of her orgasm.