Chapter 8: The Silent Library in Peru

"I don't think I'd ever conclude sex with 'my father will hear of this" he offered an example of her misinterpretation.

She snorted. "That's just a joke I wrote for myself."

"I have never said that!" he protested, eyebrows knitted together.

"HA!" Hermione roared and jackknifed. "That's like vintage Malfoy: 'My father will hear of this, Potter.'" she parroted his younger self with pursed lips and a breathy venomous whisper and continued to chuckle until she saw his serious expression. "Sorry, it's not a reflection on you. It's just an old story." She shrugged and drew her lips nervously to the side, worrying that perhaps her ribbing had put a halt to any possible… rubbing . She hated herself for even thinking those words.

"Say one nice thing about me." He pouted, folding his arms over his chest. She knew he was playing, but she also recognised something serious behind the demand. Commanding, she offered A show of faith that she wasn't using him as a sexual puppet.

"You're very…." She looked him over, but he stopped her with a raised finger.

"It can't be about how I look or my devastating sexual prowess, though,"

"Fuck." She muttered and pursed her lips, thinking for more than a few seconds. "You always know the difference between me being pissed off and me being upset." she offered.

"I'm observant of your two moods? That's your compliment?" he took a step back and laughed.

"Not just the moods. That was just an example. You just notice things, like you always know when I've got a big meeting coming up, even if it's secret."

"So your compliment is; I notice things about you ?" his face softened.

"I just assumed the skill was transferable." she shot him a nervous smile and pressed herself back against the bookshelf, so the edges dug into her, reminding her she was awake. "and I'm always appreciative."

It was Draco's turn to snort with laughter. "That is categorically false."

"Internally."

"Good enough." he nodded. "Thank you, Granger, for noticing I notice."

He narrowed his eyes at her, and a smirk popped onto his lips.

"You're in the restricted section Granger." he drawled.

Hermione's brain stalled, shocked by his sudden left turn into her story, "I've got permission." she couldn't stop her voice from shaking. Something about the way he moved toward her had her whole frame trembling.

"If you're in the restricted section, does that make you restricted." he stepped close to her, pressing her further into the shelves.

"what if I wasn't?" she tilted her hip, arching her back into him. Just as she'd done in the story, she'd given him.

"Well, with you unrestricted and your bodyguards nowhere in sight, I'd have to open you up and devour you… just like any other book in here." he leaned his nose to her ear, "that bit was boiling Granger, well done." he whispered with a grin, breaking them out of the play-acting for a second, perhaps to remind Hermione who he really was.

A wave of panic hit her. She was on office time, she was a ministry official, she was Hermione Granger. She was not some fly-by-night sex haver. "I didn't come here expecting this, you know?". It was honest. She hadn't expected it. There'd been a glimmer of hope, a tiny ember that was barely there until she clapped eyes on him, and it whooshed into an internal inferno. In addition, she was hyper-aware of her skirt choice appearing deliberate. Perhaps it was subconscious. She started spiralling through a wormhole of panic and dread. "I just don't want you to think I'm the kind of person who turns up at your pre-arranged ministry assessment expecting sex or whatnot."

"I know that, Granger." he smiled at her kindly, and it was strange how comforted she felt. He pressed his palms against her waist and slowly, painfully slowly started to gather the fabric of her skirt up a centimetre at a time. "And I don't want to think I brought you here expecting this, I hoped perhaps, dreamed mayhaps…."

"Mayhaps?" she queried with a grin and a bite of her lip. He ignored her teasing.

"but I had no expectations, other than perhaps being told off for dragging you away early." he grabbed her hand and tugged it to his other on her ribs, holding the skirt up and placed the fabric in her fingers.

"no, I didn't mind. Celia was being unbearable." she managed to mutter, forgetting all her previous rage as his open hands glided over the front of her underpants and across the top of her bare thighs.

"or that I'd be chastised for sending you flowers." he leaned into her, peppering kisses across her jaw. She wanted to turn her head so badly and capture his mouth in hers. To know what was in his kiss.

"They were lovely flowers Draco. Thank you." she squeaked as his hands slid around her hips and grasped her, not unsubstantial, arse.

"it was a tiny token of my gratitude for what was an evening I will never forget, Hermione." one of his beautiful hands snaked to her front. his fingers gently padded across the tiny wet spot that had appeared on the egg blue cotton of her knickers. "I've played it back near a thousand times. I do have some queries, just a bit of direction that I think will greatly improve my performance." He smirked as he moved his fingers back and forth, in the motion he knew she liked, over the top of her underwear.

"yes?" She wasn't sure if it was a question falling from her lips or just an exclamation of pleasure.

"You asked me not to stop talking. Is it dirty talk specifically or just anything?" Draco leaned into her a little harder, putting less space between his face and hers.

"I think anything." For her, one of the highlights of their tryst had been his mention of an obscure botany expert. "My brain doesn't really stop. When you talk to me, it just helps…."

"Quiet the storm?" he asked, his lips brushing her ear.

"yes." she moaned, the coil in her gut tightening quickly as his fingers picked up the pace.

"I thought as much, given your brilliance." He smirked at her and started kissing down her neck, "and well, there's a bit in that story you penned, where my mouth would be otherwise occupied…."

"You don't have to…" she reached out and grabbed his shoulders to stop him on his descent. Her skirt dropped back into place.

"I want to, Granger." he frowned up at her seriously ", and I have a plan."

How's this? His voice was in her head, but he was on his knees, lips screwed shut. Definitely not speaking.

"Are you using Legilimency?" she gasped, not at all sure how she felt

Kind of, I found it in a book about librarians in the silent library in Peru and how they communicate. The fact he'd found it in a book soothed her worry slightly. He pushed her skirt back up towards her hands, which gathered at her sternum again. Hold that, please. He smirked. Hermione complied with his request, but she felt her brow crease into a frown.

"The minute you feel uncomfortable, tell me, Hermione, I'll stop." He spoke out loud, looking up at her with the open face she'd seen in her office. Is that alright? He queried in a voice that felt like it sat somewhere at the front of her brain.

She nodded.

And then he was kissing her over the blue cotton pants. How's that? He asked. She could hear the smirk in his voice. He ran his tongue down the length of her before she could respond.

"Good." she breathed, her hips bucking involuntarily as her head jacked back.

Gryffindor, I want your eyes down here. Watching me. They were back to the story. She'd forgotten all about it. Something was distracting or dare she think it better about the Malfoy in the flesh, which almost made the paper less desirable. She cast her eyes down and felt a jolt of desire as she caught his grey orbs staring back at her intensely, his tongue just about visible, disappearing under her.

Better. Don't take them off me.

She watched breathlessly as he lapped at her, his fingers pulled her underwear aside, and he dove back with reaffirmed vigour. Does that feel good, Granger? He asked as he pressed his tongue into her most sensitive spot.

"Yes." Her knees buckled when he added sucking into his mix. She stared down at him in awe. He had the capability of making her feel things she'd only imagined. It was terrifying. It was exhilarating. She so desperately wanted to throw her leg over his shoulder, but given her inexperience with this act, she wasn't even sure it was something that could be done.

Do it. Malfoy projected enthusiastically. Hermione felt him grab the back of one of her knees and tug at it.

"You can hear my thoughts?" she gasped, and despite the shock, still allowed him to lift her leg and throw it over his shoulder. The slight change of angle and weight shift turned the heat up in her gut, and she moaned.

Only the deafening ones. Draco assured her as he dragged a whimper from her mouth.

Am I the first man who's done this to you, Granger? He'd felt it as he lingered on the surface of her brain. Her lack of confidence in this position was almost screaming from her. He was impressed by her tenacity in the face of something which clearly made her anxious.

"Yes," she admitted.

"Fuck." he groaned out loud, leaning his head on her pubic bone and taking a breath.

"Is that ok?" she was nervous again.

"yes." he was struck monosyllabic by his intense arousal. "Perfect."