Hermione shivered involuntarily as she stepped out into the night. The decidedly chilly September evening had turned downright cold. She mentally chastised herself for not thinking to bring a coat. But before she could even consider transfiguring something a bit warmer, Draco had shrugged off his suit jacket and laid it over her shoulders. The finely pressed linen did what it was intended for, warding off the wind, but it was his masculine scent enveloping her that suddenly made her feel extremely hot. He smelled so damn delectable, her already soaked knickers clung mercilessly to her.
Pulling it tightly around her, she whispered a soft "thank you", to which he gave a brief nod. With the comfort of his palm at the base of her back, he guided her to the cobblestone road towards her flat, but his hand then fell away, distractedly running through his hair before he shoved it in his trouser pocket.
Awkward tension wafted between them now. She kept her gaze fixed on the tin foil wrapped chocolate cake in her hands, only glancing at her date briefly in an effort to gauge his behavioral change. His jaw was clenched tight and he seemed to be contemplating some deep thought or perhaps compartmentalizing the past evening.
Whatever the issue, it was clear something was bothering him. And being in unfamiliar territory, Hermione didn't have the first clue what to do. She pondered about a million things to say in the few minutes it took for them to walk back to her building, but everything that ran through her muddled thoughts sounded so contrived and she couldn't bring herself to voice a single one.
They had arrived at the staircase leading up to the second floor where her flat was located. With hesitation, Hermione started to climb but only made it a few steps when she noticed Draco was not following her. Her stomach recoiled and for a brief moment she thought she might lose her delicious dinner right there in front of this handsome wizard. He wouldn't look at her, fidgeting with his shirt sleeve on his left arm. She didn't need Legilimency to see he was conflicted about where the rest of this night would lead.
She steeled her nerves and took one step down. "It's still my birthday," she mused, giving him her softest smile.
He gave her a mirthless smirk but still wouldn't meet her gaze. Instead he made a show of glancing at his expensive wristwatch, "For another two hours or so…"
She took another step, careful about maintaining some sort of distance so as not to spook him like some wild creature. She had to stifle a laugh as her brain conjured the image of his skittish, bouncing ferret self from back in fourth year. She gave a dramatic sigh, "Whatever will I do to fill the time…"
He finally looked at her, cocking one arrogant brow. "Knowing you, Granger," he drawled, "you'll curl up with a good book and a nice cup of tea."
"Mmmm…," she tapped her index finger on her lip, "That does indeed sound like a solid plan." She stepped down once more, positioning herself one stair above him but given their height difference, they were almost even now. Throwing caution to the wind, Hermione took a chance. "Or…" her voice trailed off for a moment, "… I could take a nice, hot bath," she breathed, a finger toying with the buckle of his belt. "Care to join me?"
Draco visibly shuddered and bit back a groan, proving he was not so unaffected by her words and actions as he would have her believe, but his hand encircled her left wrist, gently pulling her away from him. He guided her hand back to her side, trailed his thumb over her engagement ring before withdrawing from her completely, even taking a step back.
"You're not coming up," she stated. It wasn't a question.
He shifted uneasily, his gaze landing on his finely polished dragon hide shoes as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers. "Not tonight, no," he replied.
He could have whispered the Cruciatus Curse and it would have been less painful in that moment. A knot formed in her stomach as her insides twisted and a heaviness settled in her chest. Somehow she managed to school her features before the tears could come and she squeaked out a simple, "Oh..kay."
She swallowed past the lump in her throat and quickly moved to turn away, but he tried to reach for her hand, which she barely managed to snatch back. "Thank you for a nice evening, Malfoy," she bit out. Then suddenly remembering she still had his jacket, she slipped it off her shoulders and thrust it at him.
"Granger…" he started, his tone holding a small amount of warning to it.
"It's fine," she managed, before quickly climbing a few of the steps in a desperate attempt to get away. But something stopped her. Maybe it was her Gryffindor bravery or simple curiosity, but a gnawing question formed in her restless mind and she decided she no longer wanted to simply stand by and wait as her life kept passing her by. Before her reason and sanity could convince her otherwise, she whirled around and marched down the steps.
Draco was slipping on his jacket, startled as he saw her approach. It almost caused her to lose her nerve, but fuck it, she was tired of this game.
"Actually, you prat, it's not fine," she replied, her index finger poking him in his chest. "Since the moment you stepped out of my Floo this evening, you've teased and taunted me with your stupid breathtaking kisses and promising innuendos, and to what end? So you can leave me alone at the end of the night wholly unsatisfied?!"
"Granger…"
She barely heard him. "Why?!" she demanded. "Explain yourself, Malfoy, because I think I have a right to know."
"Look, I don't want to fuck this up…" he tried.
"Bollocks!" she interrupted, "Sing me a different tune as I've heard that one already! Do you get off making me want you, is that it?!"
His hands gripped her shoulders suddenly and he gave her a little shake, snapping, "I don't want to rush this!" Realizing he may have been too rough, he let go and stepped back, cursing loudly before glancing her way. "Sex complicates everything…"
She snorted her disdain, "I'm Hermione Granger and you're Draco Malfoy, we passed complicated the moment we inked our names on that bloody contract."
"Exactly my point! We have a complex past and an uncertain future ahead of us. Clouding it with lust won't do us a damn bit of good!"
Hermione opened her mouth to offer a clever retort, but one look at him and she quickly closed it. He looked utterly torn. The fury that had escaped her moments before quickly dissipated as embarrassment flooded her entire being at her brief display of a deep seeded vulnerability she had been carrying with her over the years. She was attacking him for not acting on a past he had no recollection of. Merlin, she was a terrible person.
"I..I'm s-sorry…" she stammered.
"No, you're not," he smirked.
She crossed her arms over her chest defiantly, "No, I'm not."
He closed the distance now, leaning one hand on the railing to bring himself close while remaining careful not to touch her. "I know I haven't been fair," he replied honestly, "but, fuck, Granger, it's rather difficult to be allowed this close to you and not touch you…" He drifted one finger up the length of her left arm, "I cannot always help himself…"
But then he sighed resolutely, withdrawing his touch, "Hermione, if you wake tomorrow and regret what we've done…" He paused, "…you'll blame me for pushing you into something you were not entirely ready for…"
She met his gaze dead on. "I'm a consenting adult, Malfoy, not some foolish teenager with a crush…"
"And this isn't some random one night stand…" he quietly said. He reached out a hand and placed it over her left, where she had been unknowingly fiddling with her engagement ring again. "You're to be my wife and, Merlin willing, the mother of my heir. I'm trying my best here, Granger… to do right by you…"
Well, damn. Getting humbled by Draco Malfoy did not feel too good.
His thumb traced around the diamond, heavy on her ring finger. "Do you know what this means?"
Her eyes narrowed and she lifted her chin haughtily, "Pansy may have mentioned some archaic Pureblood claiming custom."
It was his turn to snort. "Parkinson needs to learn to keep her bloody mouth shut."
He sighed again, his gaze falling to watch as he circled the pad of his thumb lightly around the ring, "It does say you're a Malfoy…" he confessed, "But it's more than that."
He ceased his ministrations and carefully interlocked their fingers. She decided not to be spiteful and pull away.
"It's a symbol of my protection…", he brought her fingers to his mouth, laying a gentle kiss to the back of her knuckles, "…of my loyalty…" Another soft kiss. "…and most of all, my fidelity…"
That got her attention and her head snapped up to meet that stormy grey gaze of his, watching with bated breath as he kissed each one of her fingertips then.
"Words I do not say lightly," he whispered, his warm breath sliding over the skin on the back of her hand.
"All I ask of you," he continued, pressing his lips to where the ring lay, "is to give me a chance to prove myself to you… whether it be the length of 18 months…" He turned her hand over then, pulling her closer.
"…Or until death do we part," he added with a shrug, before giving one final small kiss to the inside of her wrist, right there at her pulse point.
Hermione's knees went weak and she released the breath she had been holding. "Are all you Purebloods this intense?" she whimpered.
"Only the good looking ones," he replied with a cocksure grin. He lowered their conjoined hands but didn't pull away. His mouth set in a grim line and he stared at her blatantly. "Ready to run yet?"
She tried to muster a smile. "In these heels? Don't think I'd get very far."
He smirked at her tease but it faded almost as quickly as it appeared. "I'm a greedy, selfish sod, Hermione, as well you know…" He paused to sigh, "And I'm used to instant gratification…"
She raised her eyebrows at that proclamation.
"But… I'd hate for you to try and find some loophole to escape our marriage contract because you felt I put too much pressure on you…" he finished.
Sadness enveloped her as the truth of his words sank in. He was just as afraid of rejection as she was. She squeezed his hand a little tighter then. "Rest assured, the Ministry did their due diligence… all I's have been dotted, every T crossed…" she teased.
One arrogant brow raised, "Read over it extensively, did you?"
She gave him a knowing smile, "I wouldn't be Hermione Granger, if I didn't." She looked down at their hands and a thought suddenly occurred to her. "Wait, you didn't?!" she asked, confounded by his words.
Draco shrugged, giving her a sheepish grin, "My solicitor gave me the highlights..."
Hermione rolled her eyes, "Privileged git."
"Know- it- all swot," he retorted. He gave her his patented smirk before reaching up and gently running the tips of his fingers down the curve of her cheek. "I meant what I said earlier, I'm not in it for just the 18 months... or to even save the Wizarding population, as it were..."
"Malfoys don't do anything halfway..." she repeated Pansy's earlier sentiment.
His eyes widened, "Yes. Exactly."
She sighed, reached up and pulled his hand away from her. He let it drop to his side. She tried a smile but knew in her heart it didn't reach her eyes. "Then I bid you goodnight, Draco."
He dipped his head in kind, "Goodnight, Hermione."
And as she turned away, she heard him whisper, "Happy Birthday."
She froze, her mind reeling. He was afraid of rejection, but if there was one thing Hermione knew about Draco Malfoy, it was that he was vain to a fault. And if she appealed to that vanity….
She turned once more, "You know, I appreciate your restraint," she replied, "It's admirable, even…"
As she suspected, something sparked in his gaze. So she pressed on, her eyes locking with his, "Yet in a little over a month, we will be legally obligated by The Ministry to…" she swallowed as her courage suddenly threatened to flee, "…to… to fuck each other senseless, so to speak..."
The shaky breath she heard him release only seemed to fuel her to continue. Like a moth to the flame… "But tonight…" her voice trailed off, "tonight there are no contracts… no impending wedding… no Ministry rules we have to follow..."
She bit her lower lip and gave him a look, "We are but a man and a woman freely choosing to be together."
Draco growled deep as he drew close, a dangerous intensity in his grey eyes, "Are you saying you would choose me tonight, Granger?"
"Every night, Draco," she breathed without hesitation. And she turned on her heel and ascended the stairs to her flat, her heart thundering in her chest, unsure if he'd take the bait or cut and run.
Oh god… oh god… oh god...
It only took a matter of seconds before she heard the familiar sound of his slow and measured steps against the wood, closing the distance between them. Relief flooded her before apprehension at where this night was leading slowly began to creep in. Was she doing the right thing?
Hermione pulled her keys from her small purse, fumbling with them as she tried desperately to unlock the door to her flat, all the while willing herself to ignore the proximity of the wizard behind her and failing miserably. The traitorous jangle of the infuriating object gave away her nervousness as her hand trembled slightly while she searched for the correct one that fit the lock.
It's just sex, Granger… that niggling inner voice of hers tried, and she could practically hear his arrogance in the words.
Draco leaned in, positioning one hand against the wooden door just slightly above her head and the other adjacent to her waist, just beside the lock, effectively pinning her in his embrace. She could feel the extreme heat radiating from his body, giving rise to a flush on her skin as her blood practically boiled at having him so close, even as he steadfastly remained just short of actually touching her. Which, she marveled, was a good thing… as she truly believed the moment they connected, she'd more than likely burst into flames on the spot.
His mouth hovered at the shell of her right ear as he gave a low chuckle, his breath tickling the sensitive skin there, sending a wave of goosebumps across her flesh, "Tsk… tsk…Granger…" he practically purred in his most erotic drawl, "You rely too much on the Muggle way of doing even the simplest of tasks…"
With the tip of one finger he caressed the dead bolt, whispering seductively into her ear, "Alohomora…"
Hermione had to bite her lip to stifle her groan as suddenly no other word in the English language sounded more sexy than those five syllables of the common unlocking spell.
For fuck's sake, Hermione, she chided herself internally, stop with the simpering foolishness or you're going to embarrass yourself by orgasming right here in the entryway.
Taking a shuddering breath, she placed her hand on the knob, glancing at him over her shoulder, their mouths but a breath apart, "Shall we?"
Something flitted across Draco's gaze then… something akin to uncertainty, perhaps. But she chose not to ruminate on it, filing it away for later. Without hesitation, she pushed open her door and walked inside, silently praising herself for seeming steady in her stilettos even as her legs felt like jelly. She tossed her keys and bag on her small desk, setting the packaged extra piece of chocolate cake down next to them, then took one more deep breath before finally turning to look at Draco.
He had shut the flat's front door and was now leaning back against it, his hands thrust in his trouser pockets as he watched her carefully. She crossed her arms over her chest like they would somehow shield her from his scrutinizing.
"Tea?" she asked, gesturing to their cold mugs she had left on the stove from earlier. She swallowed as her cheeks flushed crimson at the impure thoughts that suddenly filled her head as her overactive mind reminded herself why they never got around to drinking it before.
He cocked a brow but still didn't move from his perch against the door, "Are you asking me if I want tea, Granger?"
No, you stupid git, tea is just a metaphor for 'please fuck me mercilessly against my kitchen table'… she wanted to answer, but instead she opted for a shy smile, her fingers nervously twisting in front of her. "Or I have firewhiskey, if you prefer…" she replied.
He smirked at her in such a knowing way she could almost imagine he heard her wanton thoughts. He pushed himself away from the door now. "Tea would be lovely, Granger…" he murmured. He unbuttoned his suit jacket then, sliding out of it with all the ease of a practiced rich elitist putting on airs. He folded it, laying it on the back of her favorite reading chair (Bloody hell, it was going to smell like him for all eternity now…), before smoothing his palm down the front of his wrinkle-free Oxford shirt. He met her gaze and smiled. "Two sugars and a splash of milk…"
Hermione stared at his lean form unabashedly, licking her lips before drawing in the bottom one to chew on nervously. She gave him a confused look, "W-what?" she stammered.
"How I take my tea…." He laughed.
"R-Right…" she stuttered. She turned towards the kitchen, "R-right….tea…." She busied herself with the mugs, drawing her wand and whispering the warming incantation to reheat the liquid, all the while watching as Draco came round her old sofa and took a seat, sinking slightly into the worn cushions. She cursed inwardly as he tried to maneuver himself into some semblance of a comfortable position, more than likely used to the standard stiff, formal furniture she reasoned Purebloods probably preferred.
She laid her wand on the kitchen counter and picked up the now stemming mugs of tea before cautiously sidestepping from her small kitchenette and into the living room. Ever the perfectly trained gentleman he'd been all evening, he rose as she drew near, taking his offered cup graciously. They both just stood there then, looking down into their cups, an awkward silence drifting over the room.
She gestured towards the sofa, "Care to sit?"
He eyed the sofa warily for a moment, but then replied, "Sure, Granger." Carefully setting his cup down on her coffee table, he retook his seat. She almost wanted to chuckle at how uncomfortable he looked, settling in on her parents' old sofa.
Her heart seized briefly in her chest. Draco Malfoy… here on her Muggle sofa… she never dared to imagine such a scenario.
She set her own cup down and before she could convince herself how bad of an idea it truly was, she took a seat right beside him, close enough that if he desired to touch her (Please, Merlin, let him want to touch her…), he could do so without overreaching.
Habitually, she reached down and slid her heels from her aching feet, releasing the most pleasurable sigh of relief. "No amount of cushioning charms will ever make those heinous things remotely bearable…" she whined, forgetting for just a moment to whom she was speaking.
She tensed when she heard him chuckle and she gave him a sheepish grin. "Forgive me, I momentarily forgot you aren't Harry or Ginny. Not much of a hostess, I'm afraid."
At the mention of Harry's name, Draco's features darkened and his smirk faded. He turned away from her and scooted to the end of the cushion, leaning forward to take a sip of his tea.
She bit the inside of her cheek, realizing something she had said bothered him, so she leaned forward to be closer to him. "Draco, if I've offended you…" she started.
"You should be comfortable with me," he interrupted, shaking his head. The he reared back, startling her, snapping, "If you want to take off your bloody shoes in your own fucking home, then just do it, Granger!"
She opened her mouth in surprise but quickly closed it.
He cringed, running his palm down the length of his face before shouting, "Fuck! That came out wrong."
Well... yes, she would have to agree. "It's all right," she whispered.
"No, it bloody well isn't!" He snapped again then immediately looked contrite. He rested both of his hands on his knees, clenching and unclenching them into fists.
She cautiously reached out her hand and laid it over one of his reassuringly, "It's fine, really."
He released a shuddering sigh but seemed to relax ever so slightly.
"This is all very surreal for me too," she continued. Taking a breath, she gave his hand a squeeze before settling back against the sofa, her feet tucked under her comfortably as if she was just having a chat with an old friend, not Draco sodding Malfoy.
"Draco Malfoy is in my common little flat," she teased, "Draco Malfoy is drinking my tea in my flat…. Draco Malfoy is actually seated on my Muggle parents old sofa… drinking tea… on my birthday, no less..."
He snorted disdainfully but turned to give her a smirk and a look, "Your parents old sofa, you say?"
She nodded, her hand straying to pull at a loose thread, "A childhood memento...something to keep them close to me, I think." She shrugged and tried to keep her tone light, "It's why I'm more apt at doing things 'the Muggle way', as it reminds me of where I came from… who I came from… D-does that make sense?"
He looked away, grabbing his mug to take a small sip of tea as he pondered her question, "I'm reminded everyday of exactly who I came from… The only difference is you long to remember whereas I only wish to forget. But yes, Granger, I get it."
Sensing the topic was turning heavy, Hermione tried for a lighter subject, "Tell me something no one else knows about you… something from your childhood, perhaps."
"You don't want to hear about my childhood," he stated firmly.
She did. She really, really did. Hermione sighed, "All right, then tell me something from our days at Hogwarts…"
He looked at her and cocked a questioning brow, "I was a sodding little prick who erroneously believed the world owed him something…"
"I said tell me something I don't know…" she smiled.
He snorted but there was no mistaking the small smirk that tugged at his lips at her obvious jest.
He set his mug down and finally leaned back, turning his body slightly towards her. "You first, Granger."
"Me?"
He nodded, folding his arms over his chest. "A confession for a confession."
That made her sit up a little straighter. What was he playing at?
She cleared her throat, then reached for her own tea, trying desperately for nonchalance, "I'm already such an open book, I'm not sure there's anything you don't already know."
"I doubt that," he replied, a mischievous light dancing behind his beautiful grey gaze. "For instance, how many Muggle gits did you snog on this very sofa before gracing us with your presence at Hogwarts?"
She had just taken a delicate sip of tea and she coughed and sputtered at his blatant question. She set the mug down and gave him an incredulous look, "What?! I was eleven!"
Again with the raised brow, "So Muggle children don't practice kissing then?"
"Not at eleven!" She exclaimed. Then a troubling thought occurred to her. "D-did you practice kissing with…" her voice trailed off, "You know what, I don't want to know."
That earned her a brief little laugh. "You can ask me anything…I don't mind."
She met his gaze, the question practically burning on her tongue. She swallowed, "Did you practice kissing with… with many Pureblood witches?"
He gave her a sneaky grin, "A fair bit…" He shrugged, "Wasn't really much else to do while our parents drank and plotted the return of the Dark Lord..."
"Well…" she looked down at her hands folded in her lap, "Unlike you, I wasn't so popular with other children growing up… Books were my preferred company...and you can't really snog a book, now can you?"
"Not popular with Muggles?" Draco questioned.
"Yes, I know… Hard to believe, right?" She sighed, "Turns out no one likes a bratty little Swot…wizards and Muggles alike." She kept her tone as teasingly light as possible, even though a heaviness had settled in her chest at the reminder of her less than ideal childhood.
"Well that's not entirely true…" he replied.
That got her attention and she met his heated gaze. "I like you just the way you are…" he finished.
She swallowed thickly. The manner in which he was looking at her right then seemed almost feral.
He leaned towards her, "And, Hermione?"
"Y-yes… Draco?" She stammered.
His gaze fell to her lips as the palm of his hand settled on her cheek, "You're the only witch I've ever wanted to snog more than once..."
And he pressed his mouth to hers, giving her a kiss so slow and deep, it stole her breath and vanquished all the awkwardness that had come between them.
Fuck, she thought, all that shameless practicing he was so busy doing in his youth sure as hell paid off now. Draco Malfoy definitely knew how to properly snog a witch.
She twisted her hands in her lap, unsure exactly what to do with them. Could she touch him on his chest… or perhaps his face? Would he welcome such affection or did he solely wish to take the lead here?
Fuck…fuck…fuck…
He tore his lips away from her then, raggedly drawing in a breath before peppering her jawline with bruising kisses, a new urgency to his mouth, all the while his hand was drawing gentle circles on her cheek. "Is this all right?" he murmured.
Was he fucking serious?!
She wanted to say the words, but as the tip of his tongue licked its way to her earlobe, all she could manage was an incoherent "mmm…" that may or may not have been a moan.
Draco chuckled, "I'm going to need to hear you say it, Granger."
Oh, Merlin… "Y-yes…" she hissed, and she dug her nails into her thighs.
His hand on her cheek shifted to the base of her neck, his fingers threading into her curls, and he pulled her towards him ever so slightly so his lips pressed against her ear. "Care to move a bit closer then?" he purred, the promise in his words eliciting a shiver from her.
Closer… right… yes…okay… The words trembled through her mind but stalled actually forming from her mouth. But it seemed not to matter, as Draco slid his hands beneath her thighs and easily lifted her into his lap so her knees straddled his hips and their torsos fitted perfectly together. Their gazes met in that moment and a feeling so raw… so intimate…seemed to pass unspoken between them.
He let his thumb drift across her bottom lip and his mouth twitched as if he wanted to say something but he quickly decided against it. He took her lips in a hurried yet commanding kiss before trailing his way down her neck and to her shoulders. She felt a hand on the zipper of her dress then, pulling slowly yet methodically down her back as the fabric loosened around her.
Just sex, Granger… her mind felt it needed to dutifully remind her heart. She squeezed her eyes shut, afraid to look at him.
Now don't go romanticizing this… That line she definitely heard in his sardonic voice.
Yes… just sex… she confirmed to herself while long, deft fingers worked their way beneath her bra clasp, caressing… memorizing her every curve and dimple. Sex… with this beautiful, warm, hard man whom she loved…
Oh god...oh god...oh god…..
Teeth and tongue skated along the length of her neck now, and she arched into him, loving the growl he gave in response as it reverberated through her.
A thousand questions tumbled through her head. Would he be rough with her? Or was he the sort to take his time, relishing in eliciting every moan of pleasure he could derive from his partner? And on that subject, how many partners had there been?
Oh god...oh god...oh god….
She swallowed past the sudden hard lump in her throat. She definitely didn't want to know the answer to that question.
She gave herself a mental shake, castrating herself for the direction of her thoughts, and tried instead to concentrate on the feel of his mouth, there, at the column of her throat, that oh so wicked tongue blazing a wet path of destruction across her skin.
Gods, this felt…. she tried to think of a word… bloody brilliant...
She found herself rocking forward then, burying her face into his neck, a breathy keening emulating from her lips directly into his ear. He shuddered against her, both of his arms wrapping her within in his embrace, tugging her tightly against him as he buried his nose into her curls.
She realized in that moment, she needed to get the hell out of her own head for once and let herself just be here with him…
They were no longer war-torn teenagers aching for that one blissful, albeit brief, experience before marching to their deaths against the Dark Lord.
Here and now, they could be lovers... taking their precious time discovering one another…
"Draco..." she murmured, his mouth working its way across her collarbone with gentle nips.
Her hands, once dormant at her sides, suddenly found their way in his silvery hair, clutching then raking through his tresses, mussing his usually impeccable look. She tilted his head back, her open mouth seeking his, their tongues meeting in a frenzied bout for control.
His hands sank into the back of her dress and he dug his fingers into her ribs, pulling her closer… tighter… against him.
Of their own volition, her hips shifted, thrusting… searching for that elusive point of contact in which to grind.
"Fuck!" he muttered, his hand regaining a bruising grip on one of her thighs in a bleak effort to keep her from repeating the action. "Do that again and this is going to end before we even get started," he warned.
He wanted her. There was no mistaking the swell of his shaft growing larger against the inside of her thigh. Digging deep for her Gryffindor courage, she licked her lips before ducking her head to the corner of his jaw, her teeth skimming the small birth mark she found there.
He groaned, one hand fisting in her wild curls to tug her back to his waiting mouth, his kiss now wild and desperately hungry…
Hands…. nails… grabbing…scratching… rubbing… everything happening all at once as a flame ignited to life within her.
She needed to feel him… every inch of his bare skin...pressing into her… hovering above her… caging her in his embrace just as she had imagined for the last eight years.
Her fingers slid up the length of his torso, blindly feeling her way to the buttons on his shirt. She tore her mouth from his, frantically pulling to undo the insanely small fastenings, fiercely determined to rip the offending material from his body if need be.
But Draco's hands settled over hers, stopping her ministrations. Confused, she looked up and met his gaze. He looked almost stricken in that moment, a pained expression contorting his handsome visage.
He pushed her hands down into her lap. "I'm not sure you're quite ready for that just yet," he whispered.
Hermione's heart skidded to a halt in her chest, shattering to a million pieces for him. He avoided her gaze, his vision now trained down, his fingers toying with hers.
She swallowed thickly, then shifted against him, pulling her hands from his grip to drag down the zipper of her dress as she wiggled out of the top. She slid her arms from her sleeves, quickly covering her left forearm with her right palm as her dress pooled at her waist, revealing the black lace of her bra.
"Granger…" he warned.
"I'll show you mine, if you show me yours…" she murmured. Choosing not to wait for his answer, she removed her right hand, revealing the distinctive pink, scarred flesh which glaringly stood out against her freckled sun-kissed skin:
MUDBLOOD
It was still clear as day… carved into her by a cursed blade as a lasting reminder of the hate Pureblood wizards held for Muggleborns like her.
Draco closed his eyes as he took a deep, steadying breath.
"It's okay, Draco," she tried, "I… I barely even notice it anymore." A lie… but a small one in the grand scheme of things, she reasoned.
He met her gaze, "Is that why you always wear long sleeves, Hermione?"
She instinctively recoiled in his embrace at his observation, but his left arm wrapped around her and he pulled her closer. She didn't try to fight him.
He stared unrelenting into her eyes now, his penetrating gaze searching for something behind her irises... something deep down which she kept hidden in her soul.
It made her squirm against him, which in turn caused his hips to jerk into her.
She realized he had yet to look at her scar but he was all too aware of it, the pad of his thumb lightly tracing over the pattern of the raised flesh.
"We should have stopped her..." he whispered. "I should have stopped her," came his fierce growl.
Hermione clenched her fists into the fabric of his shirt, "You were just a boy...she would have killed you."
"Not an excuse, Granger," he vehemently replied, "I protect what's mine."
Hermione froze. She swallowed, her mind reeling, "But I wasn't yours..."
Embarrassment colored his normally pale cheeks. And his gaze finally shifted, his eyes now intently watching his own fingers caress her scarred skin. "You were always going to be mine…" came his quiet confession.
And then he grew silent, contemplative. Stunned by his words, she allowed him to take his time reconciling his feelings about their past while she pondered his revelation.
Seconds stretched into minutes.
Finally he sighed in resignation, his head dropping back against the sofa cushions in exasperation, "All right, witch, you win."
And then he was kissing her again, his hands tangling in her hair as he dragged her against him. Her mouth opened beneath his and he wasted no time driving his tongue inside, deepening the exchange.
Her hands came to rest on the sides of his face and she ripped free of his mouth. Their passion rekindled, with their breaths coming in short gasps and their hearts thudding loudly in unison within their chests, Hermione and Draco's gazes met and suddenly neither of them could look away.
Never breaking eye contact, she swallowed then dared to let her hands slide down to his shoulders. When he didn't flinch, she ventured further until her fingers found the first closed button on his dress shirt. With deliberate slowness, she slid the button from the loop.
He took a deep, shuddering breath.
Two more buttons were undone.
He groaned, leaned into her and buried his face into her curls, inhaling deeply.
Another button.
His hands pushed under the hem of her dress, fingers splaying against her thighs as he nipped at the bare skin of her shoulder.
She moaned, her eyes fluttering shut as his teeth dragged along the sensitive skin of her throat. "D-Draco…" she breathed as she fumbled with the few remaining buttons. Finally complete, she blindly felt her way along the bareness of his chest, light caresses against his hard form, as he worked to pepper her cleavage with love bites.
She gasped as Draco abruptly stood, lifting her easily into his arms. Then he turned and unceremoniously deposited her on the sofa. He placed one knee on the soft furniture, practically ripping open his sleeves, his cuff links popping off and landing, Merlin knows where, before he completely divested himself of his shirt.
Oh god…oh god…oh god….
Like a sculpted Greek deity, Draco Malfoy was beyond fit. Her eyes traveled unabashedly down the length of him, from the sinew muscles of his lean frame to the light dusting of blonde hair that trailed past the V of his hips, disappearing into his trousers. Despite the faded white scars from Harry's Sectumsempra curse criss crossing his marbled flesh, there was nothing he should be embarrassed for.
He raised one perfect eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Do I please you?"
She could hear the mockery in his voice but she still responded with a breathy "Yes..." Lightly trailing her fingers over his well-defined abs, she released a staggering breath. He was completely and utterly perfect… so much so it filled her anew with anxiety. Would he find her as pleasing as she found him?
Placing his left hand on the back of the sofa, he leaned in, trailing the tip of one finger down the length of her form, tracing over every curve from her face to her shapely thighs, eliciting a shiver from her.
"Is this all for me?" he purred.
Fuck yes… she longed to scream, but only managed to gasp in response to his question.
He suddenly grew serious, "Are you sure about this, Hermione?"
Merlin forbid, did he need an open invitation? "Y-yes…" she stammered.
He seemed to consider her words for just a moment before he drew back to sit on the sofa. She half rose, drawing her knees to her chest in a vain attempt to cover herself as she watched him untie and discard his shoes. It was then she noticed the glaringly black Dark Mark etched into the stark pale skin of his forearm. It looked as new as the day he must have received it, the magic having never faded, even after the Dark Lord's death.
Curious….
Without consideration of her actions, she reached out and traced over the snake that seemed to still slither from the mouth of the skull as if it were very much alive. Draco immediately froze.
Realizing her mistake, Hermione snatched back her hand, almost as if burned. "I-I'm s-sorry."
He wouldn't look at her, but she could see him clenching and unclenching his hands into fists as we worked through his emotions. After a beat or two, he replied, "I-it's f-fine…", his voice coming out forced and strained. He quickly glanced at her then turned away, "No one's ever touched it before now…"
She rested her chin on her knee, watching him carefully. "D-does it still hurt?"
He shook his head, "Not physically…" Only mentally… Though it remained unsaid, Hermione felt the small truth hang in the air like a dark cloud.
Slowly, she reached out tentatively to him. As she suspected, he flinched, bringing his forearm closer to his body. But undeterred, she pressed on, her palm and fingers gliding over the rough tattoo. "I don't mind it, Draco…" she tried, "We both have our fair share of scars."
He met her gaze then, and she was suddenly reminded of that broken boy she held all those years ago in the astronomy tower and her heart wrenched. His hand cupped her cheek and his thumb traced over her bottom lip. "Yes…" she found herself murmuring and suddenly she was being pushed back onto the cushions, his lithe frame covering her as his lips claimed hers possessively.
He stoked the fire raging in her veins in a matter of seconds, hands traveling down the length of her, cupping her bra-clad breasts, splaying over her ribs, stroking over her abdomen before finally settling on her thighs, all the while his mouth made wicked promises, sucking and bruising a trail over any bare flesh he could find.
She mewled and keened her encouragement, gasping when it felt good… moaning nonsensically when it felt better. She escaped the confines of her mind and simply savored the moment – appreciating the feel of his weight on top of her... how his warmth and smell captivated her every sense. Since the war, she had learned the hard way to live each day to its fullest, in the event there might not be a tomorrow. Tonight was no different. She was going to enjoy being with Draco, in every possible way. Tomorrow could go to hell.
He rocked back on his heels then, hovering over her as he watched his fingers move to her leg to settle at the top of her thigh-high stocking. With painstaking slowness, he eased the thin fabric between deft fingers, rolling the silk to slide like the wisp of a lover's caress down her calf before discarding it behind him. He repeated the action with her other leg now, adding a tender kiss to just behind her knee that caused more of her slick to soak through the scrap of lace barely holding together between her thighs. Bought especially in the event she found herself in this very position with Draco, Hermione was positive her new knickers were thoroughly ruined at this point.
He wasted no time splaying his hands on her bare thighs and spreading her legs as he dragged her against him. He settled between her welcoming heat and she involuntarily canted her hips, seeking the much needed friction she craved. She pushed against the hardness of his shaft, thick and straining in the strict confines of his trousers, moaning loudly as a burst of pleasure rippled through her as it grazed the perfect spot.
No stranger to touching herself throughout the years, Hermione knew there was simply no better replacement than having a hard, male body in which to grind against. Bonus points if it belonged to the man you've craved since as far back as she could remember….
Draco choked on a gasp and he pressed his palm to her hip, holding her down. His eyes drifted closed and he bit on his lower lip as he worked to get himself under control. Several seconds ticked by and when he opened eyes, his pupils had darkened almost to black and he stared at her with a renewed fire in his gaze.
Again, that snarky little smirk pulled at his lips as he said, "So eager, Granger… Patience…"
"I w-want you…" she panted, caring not if she came off sounding desperate. She had waited a long time to get here. "Ple-please….D-Draco…."
Another appeal to his vanity.
He growled. One hand grasping at the back of her neck, he yanked her to him to press his mouth against hers in a fierce display of power. She'd let him have this one, she reasoned.
And then he shoved two warm fingers into the lace of her knickers, rubbing lightly over her slit, coating them in her slick.
"Fuck…." he groaned, "How are you already this wet….?"
Without preamble, he slipped just the tips of his fingers through her hot center, giving her tight cunt a few shallow thrusts.
Hermione cried out, her hips arching into his hand of their own volition as her eyes closed and her head fell back in ecstasy.
"Is this what you want, Hermione?" He ground out between clenched teeth, his self control teetering on the edge as he thrusted again and again, each time going just a little deeper the more she opened for him.
"Yes! Yes! Merlin, yes!" Her nails dug into his shoulders and she writhed against him, wanting to welcome every part of him into her… body and soul.
He quickly withdrew and gathered her to him for a deep kiss, his tongue lashing against her own with all the pent up passion that encompassed them.
Breathing heavy, he skimmed her lower lip with his teeth before planting hurried kisses along her jaw.
"You never answered my question…." he purred into her ear.
Hermione pulled back a little to look at him, confused. Did she miss something in the fever of their foreplay?
He smiled softly, "Are you the kind of girl who only likes to make love or do you enjoy a good fuck?"
She released a shaky breath. "A bit of both… I think…" came her all too honest reply.
Draco suddenly reared back on his heels, his brows furrowing in his own confusion as he searched her face then. "You think?" he sputtered.
Oh fuck... Hermione scooted to lean her back against the arm of the sofa now, folding her arms protectively against her chest. She bit her lip in hesitation.
He shoved his hands through his hair before giving her an incredulous look, "Granger, are you a virgin?"
He practically spat the word at her as if she had just revealed she carried some horrible disease. She sat up, pulling her legs from under him as she bit out, "What?! No!"
He crawled away from her, a hand nervously rubbing at his face as he seated himself on the opposite end of the sofa… the farthest he could possibly get from her, she noted with disdain.
"I mean, it's okay if you are..." he tried.
Her anger rose at his pathetic attempt to salvage the conversation, "Of course it would be okay... but I'm not, so you can stop looking so horrified!" She turned away from him then, delicately pulling the skirt of her dress down.
"I didn't mean to imply..." he started but stopped.
They were suddenly entrenched in an endless deafening silence. It was so uncomfortable and palpable, one could slice through it with a knife.
Her anger tempering, Hermione fiddled with her fingers in her lap. She knew she should clarify but the thought of having this conversation with him made her stomach tighten and her chest constrict.
"I..." she began but she couldn't finish. Bloody hell, this was impossible.
She sighed and tried again, "I've had sex, Draco. It…" Merlin. "It's just been a long while..."
She looked at him out of the corner of her eye for a brief moment, before finishing in a murmur, "And it was only just the once."
Complete and utter silence. She stared at her hands in her lap, listening for his reaction, but it was as if he had turned to stone because she couldn't even hear him breathing.
Finally, he spoke, "So the Weasel was such a shotty lover, he put you off of sex then?" And though she refused to look at him in that moment, she could hear his sneer of disgust.
"I have never slept with Ron!" She found herself vehemently denying.
And she turned to look at him. "Never," she reiterated.
His eyes grew wide at her declaration but he simply gave her a curt nod then quickly avoided her gaze. He leaned back against the sofa and toyed with a stray bit of frayed string.
She ran her hands down her thighs to smooth out her dress then swallowed. "And, for the record, it was nice..."
She turned to him to gauge his reaction and he cocked a questioning brow. "My first time, I mean... it was good..." Oh, for Merlin's sake... She winced inwardly and buried her face in her hands to hide the blush she knew stained her cheeks.
"Who was it?" came his quiet question.
Hermione's head snapped up and she looked at Draco. She opened her mouth to respond but quickly closed it. How does one tell a man, It was you, you stupid git, without coming off sounding completely mental?
But Draco took her silence to mean something else entirely, pure horror crossing his handsome visage as he spewed, "For fuck's sake, tell me it wasn't Potter?!"
"Ew! No!" She immediately exclaimed, "Harry is like my brother!" And she couldn't suppress the shudder that raked down her spine at the thought.
After a beat, Draco leaned forward, his fingers dancing into her curls as his palm settled at the base of her neck, caressing her lightly. "Hey... Granger?" He nudged her to turn around, "...Look at me, will you?"
She sighed resolutely then turned to look at him.
His frosty glare from before had melted and there was a burning darkness in his gaze that she had never seen before. She recognized it as possessiveness. "Who was it?" he asked again, this time with an edge to his voice.
She groaned disheartenedly and tried to pull free of his grasp but he wouldn't relent.
He shifted his body closer to her, his eyes once again settling on her mouth, "You can tell me. Who was the lucky bloke to get under the skirt of the great Hermione Granger?"
She licked her lips, mesmerized at how he was looking at her. God, what she wouldn't give to just tell him the truth.
"Just... just some Muggle boy..." she stammered the lie. She felt his hand relax against her now and she turned away from him. "The summer after 6th year," she finished.
He released a shaky breath, "And you've been with no one since?"
She could hear the doubt in his voice. "No, prat!" She countered. "The war happened, making it a non-issue, and then... I don't know..."
She shrugged, "It wasn't high on my list of priorities, I guess." You know, being pregnant with your love child and all... she added silently in her head.
His hand, so warm and comforting there on her neck, moved lower, tracing light circles over her back. "And do you still talk to this... Muggle boy...?"
She snorted out a humorless laugh to which he raised another eyebrow at. She looked at him over her shoulder and replied with sadness laced in her voice, "I doubt he even remembers me."
Because I was a stupid, impulsive fool who chose to oblivate you in a panic…. He'd never forgive her.
Draco furrowed his brow, then leaned forward to close the distance between them. "I can't imagine you're an easy one to forget..." he replied softly.
Hermione's heart stopped dead in her chest. She released a shaky breath. And that's when Draco pressed his lips to hers.
Tell him the truth! her mind screamed.
She pulled free of him. "Draco..." she started, placing a hand against his chest, "I… I should tell you... I mean, I need to say..."
Confess…Confess…. Confess….
She shook her head, "I think we shouldn't do this… not tonight…"
Coward.
"There's still so much we should talk about…" she finished in a whisper before pulling away from him. She quickly shoved her arms back into her dress, adjusting it the best she could before abruptly standing.
Draco grabbed hold of her elbow then, stopping her retreat. He stood, towering over her, "We have plenty of time to make things right between us."
She halfheartedly tried to free herself, "Draco...but…"
He placed his palm on her cheek and pressed his lips to hers, "Ssh... Granger..." he breathed into her mouth, before trailing his tongue to the column of her throat.
"Do you want me?" he asked, right before capturing her bottom lip with his teeth, forcing her mouth to welcome the caress of his tongue.
I do… I really, really do…. I need you so much…
"Y-yes…" was all she could manage before his mouth regained control of hers.
"Then let me take care of you, Hermione…"
She moaned in the back of her throat as his tongue slipped between her lips, driving hard and deep. Before she knew it, they were once again on the sofa and he was leaning into her, pressing her to lay down as he quickly covered her with his hard form.
Suddenly he reared back and his gaze captured hers. The intensity she found in the molten pools of silver had a heated blush creeping over her skin.
Draco swept a curl from her face, "A confession for a confession, Granger…"
Oh god….oh god… oh god….
Waves of uncertainty crashed over her and her insides flipped.
He cupped her face with both hands, his eyes immediately landing on her swollen lips. "It's been awhile for me too..." he admitted.
Her heart squeezed in her chest and she released a breath which sounded almost like a whimper.
"Draco…" she purred, and she pushed herself up on her forearms to give him a soft yet very thorough kiss.
He broke the contact and gave her a small but genuine smile before he cocked his brow and smirked, "I mean, not ten years long but... awhile, nevertheless..."
She pinched him in the ribs at the bad joke but he just chuckled. Then, his face once again grew serious and he paused for just a beat before crushing his lips to hers.
Hermione willingly fell back against the pillowy softness of the sofa cushions as Draco pressed into her. She tangled one hand in his hair, holding her to him in desperation. She never wanted to let him go.
His mouth moved to feather light kisses against her jaw, down the column of her throat as his hand toyed with the neckline of her dress before sliding down the length of her torso to rest on her hip.
His intent obvious, he flexed his fingers once then shifted his hand to grip the hem of her dress, dragging it up to reveal her lacy knickers. Carefully, he took his fingertip and traced the curve of the silk from hip bone to hip bone. A shiver of desire raked through her and she gasped, her nails sinking into the muscle of his shoulders.
He didn't even flinch, instead capturing her lips with his own as he ventured further still, dipping two fingers beneath the silk.
Unlike before when his touch had been hurried and a bit rough, now Draco took his time. Whether it was because he was aware of her inexperience or not, deft fingers carefully traced over her folds, coating himself in her wetness then tenderly slipping just the tip of one digit into her entrance, clearly testing her comfort.
Hermione couldn't contain herself, arching her back off the sofa, her eager hips pressing wantonly into his hand, drawing him further inside. It had been much too long since he touched her like this. She refused to hold back.
Building a rhythm, he worked her with shallow thrusts, enticing more of her natural slick to escape down her thighs, covering his hand. He kept it light and gentle, but even though it wasn't much, the spark inside her flared into a raging inferno.
He hungrily swallowed her moans, further encouraging her with his tongue matching the same pace as his thrusts. But when he suddenly worked a second finger inside her, she tore free of his mouth to pant incoherently, her head falling back against the sofa.
"Fuck, Granger… you are so perfect…" he mumbled as he pressed open mouth kisses to her exposed neck and chest. "I have to fucking taste you."
She whimpered as he reared back on his heels, pulling his fingers from her body then hooking them to the elastic of her knickers.
"Do you think you still need these?" he growled as he slowly worked them down her hips.
Not trusting herself to speak, Hermione gave a quick shake of her head as she canted her hips to give him easier access. She bit her bottom lip in a weak effort to prevent herself from outright begging him to go faster.
Despite her willingness, Draco seemed to hesitate. He stared at where his hands gripped her knickers, something unspoken clearly warring inside him as he considered his actions. However, whatever doubts that plagued him only lasted a moment and he was yanking the delicate black silk down her thighs.
She wiggled beneath him as she helped him to pull both her legs free of her undergarment. He balled the silk in one of his fists, staring at it as if it were some remarkable thing before he shifted his molten gaze to her.
Hermione clenched her thighs together in a false sense of propriety, but Draco wanted his prize.
And, Merlin knows, Malfoys always get what they want…
Swallowing thickly, he dropped her knickers beside the sofa then took his palms and covered each of her knees. Without a fight, he shoved her legs apart and blatantly stared at her drenched core with what she could only describe as reverence.
"Fucking perfect."
Hermione felt a bright blush stain her skin at his praise. It was crazy to consider it, but she liked hearing how much she pleased him… It gave her a strange sense of power much in the same manner getting an Outstanding on her OWLS did.
She moaned as Draco traced the tip of one finger down her slit. Then he repositioned himself between the welcoming warmth of her thighs, his head resting on her hip. A tremor raked over his entire body and he lowered his mouth.
With deliberate slowness, the flat of his tongue slid against her core, tasting her as if she was some fine meal meant to be savored. Completely lost to him now, she could have sworn she heard a whispered "delicious" and her abdomen tightened in anticipation as all her blood seemed to rush south.
He didn't disappoint. With two fingers, he spread her soaked folds, then repeated the same action with his wicked tongue, drawing out her pleasure while he painstakingly explored her, then finally moved to massage her clit with the pad of his thumb.
"D-Draco!" she suddenly shouted, and her head and shoulders pressed deep into the cushions as she arched her hips into his mouth.
It was all the invitation he needed.
Spreading her wide, Draco's tongue delved mercilessly into her cunt, alternating laving at her greedily before teasing her clit with just the rough tip.
Her mind went blank with desire and she allowed her body to take over instinctively, writhing against his ministrations, demanding more. So much more…
"Draco… please… please…" she breathlessly begged.
Knowing exactly what she needed, he pressed two fingers into her welcoming body, filling her tight channel as he continued his torture of her swollen flesh with his mouth.
Tongue and teeth joined together in play as he gave her deep thrusts of his fingers, teasing her until he felt she was ready.
Finally bringing her clit between his lips, he sucked hard and buried his fingers to the knuckle inside her.
Hermione cried out as stars burst through her vision. Her hand fisted into his hair to hold him there between her thighs as her hips rose to grind against him. Over and over, she met the deep, measured thrusts of his fingers, her hips punishing his face.
Suddenly he tugged his head free and pushed himself above her, shadowing her with his body. "Use me, Hermione…" he growled, "...use me for your pleasure…"
His pace quickened. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the feel of his long fingers… the rhythm of his thrusts… the weight of his hard cock pressed against her leg...the sound of his rapid breathing as he buried his face in the valley of her breasts, his tongue trailing along her clavicle as her unzipped dress slipped down her body in the frenzy of their movements.
"Oh god… oh fuck…" she stammered, a blinding pressure building in her womb as his thrusts grew faster… harder.
And then he rolled his thumb against her clit.
"Oh Draco!" The pleasure hit its crescendo and she broke apart, everything in and around her shattering into thousands of pieces. Her body clenched tightly, and she covered his hand between her legs, holding him inside her, against her… as she rode out her release.
And then she was falling… her entire being trembling as she sank into the soft cushions of the sofa. She was only dimly aware of Draco as he shifted above her.
"Well…" he purred, "someone is enjoying her birthday…" he replied.
She turned to look up at him, watching as he wiped her slick off his mouth.
Hermione couldn't help it, she blushed deep with embarrassment, her hand covering her face as the shame settled over her. She had completely lost control with him, taking and giving nothing in return.
"Hey...hey… hey…" and he eased her hand away, turning her to meet his gaze. "Don't be ashamed, Granger… not with me…"
She took a breath, managing only a nod of agreement.
He pushed a lock of her hair from her face then his expression grew serious. "Confess…" he whispered, "... did I just give you your first orgasm?"
She gave an embarrassed chuckle and buried her face into the crook of his arm, "Oh Merlin…" She sighed then looked up at him, "Rest assured, Draco Malfoy, every orgasm I've ever experienced has been because of you."
A knowing smirk graced his lips, "Thought of me often, have you?"
"Perhaps," she said coyly.
"I'm touched," he murmured, his gaze lingering on her mouth now. He pulled gently on her bottom lip, freeing it from her teeth, his eyes darkening.
"Not yet…" she whispered.
From somewhere buried deep inside her, Hermione took a chance and guided his fingers, still sticky with her essence, into her mouth. She locked her gaze with his, then slid her wet lips around the first digit, sucking her own juices from his skin, before repeating the action with the other finger. She moaned a little at the taste, and he released a shuddering breath in response.
"Enough," he growled, snatching his hand back before he suddenly lifted himself up on his arms, hovering over her, his breath shallow and hot.
She pushed herself up on her forearms, worried she may have made him angry. "D-draco…" she started.
"It's not polite to tease, Granger," he interrupted, giving her a wicked smile, squashing all her worries and doubts.
She curled her legs up to her chest and away from his body, swiftly climbing from the sofa. She adjusted her dress to cover herself and took two steps back from Draco. She bit her lip as she met his predatory gaze. "Who's teasing, Malfoy?"
He crawled off the sofa with the same lithe movements of a large cat stalking its prey. He licked his lips.
She took two more steps towards her main hall.
He didn't move a muscle, simply stared unrelenting at her.
Silence fell all around them… the only sound was the pounding of their hearts and their labored breaths.
Suddenly, Hermione turned and fled down the hall to her bedroom. But she barely stepped through the door when he pounced, his arms encircling her and yanking her back against his hard body. She released a playful yelp and he chuckled low as he buried his face into her curls and breathed deep.
"You're playing with fire, Granger…." he warned, his voice like honey in her ear.
She pulled free of him and turned to face him, taking a few more small steps back towards her bed.
Draco leaned one shoulder against the doorframe and released a shaky breath.
Hermione pulled her arms free of her dress then reached behind her back and unclasped her bra, letting the black lace fall to the ground, the bodice of her dress her only covering now.
"Will you burn me, Malfoy?"
And she shoved the dress down, letting it pool to the floor, revealing herself in all her naked glory to him.
He straightened, his hands clenched into fists at his side. He let his gaze roam down the length of her, drinking in every curve before he met her gaze. "I could set fire to this world, Hermione, and never let a single flame touch you," he whispered harshly.
Like a moth to the flame…
Only, little did he know, Hermione Granger wanted to burn.
