Chapter 11: Half-way And One Step Forward
Previously:
"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.
Now:
A heartbeat. Then another. They stood there facing each other... her, naked in both body and soul... him, still wearing his trousers and an unreadable expression but little else. Neither moved. No one spoke. Only the steady ticking of the second hand of her wall clock filled the void. She found herself mentally counting those ticks... Two... Ten... Fourteen... Thirty-two... She swallowed. Had she made a mistake?
Sixty-one...
Draco released a shuddering breath and his posture relaxed, his fingers flexing from being balled into fists. He propped a shoulder against the door frame, arms crossing over his perfect muscular chest, his thumb pulling at his lower lip as he studied her with such intensity in his gaze.
Heat spread over her bare flesh as she blushed under his scrutiny. She longed to shrink away; but never one to back down from a challenge she stood firm, swallowing past the lump forming in her throat. Did he even realize the power he held in that moment?
"You shouldn't stare, Malfoy..." she replied, her voice wavering just the tiniest bit, "...I just might think you don't like what you see..." Instinctively, her left hand covered the purplish starburst scar spread over the right side of her ribs, just beneath her breast.
He stifled a chuckle, "Fuck, Granger, you really don't know, do you?"
She visibly tensed. "Perhaps you should enlighten me..." she whispered through clenched teeth.
He straightened, pushing his fingers nervously through his hair before he met her gaze, taking another deep breath, "I've waited for this very moment for almost half of my life, so shut it, Granger, and let me enjoy the view."
"Oh..." she swallowed, embarrassment further flushing her body. She tried to relax then, but kept her left palm firmly covering the abhorrent scar she had been cursed with since the end of Fifth Year.
He shifted his hands to slide into the pockets of his trousers and proceeded to take his time staring at her. He carefully flitted his gaze up and down rather slowly, drinking her in... as if memorizing this moment in case he never got another chance... almost as if he was absorbing every curve... every scar... with just his eyes when she really ached for his touch... his hands on her body... caressing her... loving her...
"Fuck me..." he breathed.
"Kinda where I thought this night was heading..." she muttered, directing her gaze to the plush carpet beneath her feet now, wary of his reaction. She bit her bottom lip, the uncertainty of the moment filling her with self-doubt.
As of sensing the subtle shift in her emotions, he was suddenly across the room in a matter of seconds, burying his hands in her hair and crushing his lips to hers. He kissed her with such a profound purpose, until she was dizzy and senseless of everything, save for the feel and smell of all things Draco Malfoy.
He pulled free and shifted back, leaving them both breathless and panting. With the tips of his fingers, he drifted his touch down the length of her body, lightly skimming over the smooth flesh, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. They both watched as he trailed a path from her neck to her shoulders, along the curve of her breast to settle on her hand, clutching painfully at her ribs. Carefully, he eased her grip loose and her hand fell to her side once again. She closed her eyes and turned her face away as he caressed the raised purple skin.
"Tell me," he ordered softly.
She shivered but acquiesced nonetheless. "The end of Fifth Year..." she whispered, swallowing past the lump in her throat, "...The Department of Mysteries..."
She clamped her mouth shut then, realizing it was the night his father was captured and thrown into Azkaban.
"Dolohov..." he murmured.
He had surprised her. Her eyes snapped open and she met his gaze. He shrugged, "The bastard enjoyed bragging about it... I'd even venture a guess he was a bit obsessed with you..."
Something flared in his gaze and his fingers dug painfully into her hip, making her flinch. "Sorry.." he muttered, relaxing his hold, but not by much.
"I-It's all right..."she stammered. She didn't want to think about obsession or Dolohov or the mistakes she had made in Fifth Year. Her eyes fell to Draco's lips and her hands moved to cup his cheeks. She leaned in and drifted her lips over his. "Kiss me, Draco... please..." A small peck to his lower lip and then another before his mouth opened and he was kissing her with all the pent-up ferocity for which she had come to know him.
Suddenly he was moving, walking forward and forcing her to retreat until the back of her thighs hit the edge of her mattress. Without breaking the kiss, he hooked his strong arms beneath her knees, lifting her easily and depositing her on her back against the softness of her bed, extracting a small gasp from her lips. She hardly had a moment to think before he was climbing after her, straddling her small frame until she was caged completely under his hard body.
His mouth found hers, his tongue coaxing her lips open, deepening the exchange. Her thighs drifted apart and he firmly settled his weight between them, grinding his hard shaft against her core, the friction alone making her whimper. She wrapped her legs around his waist and canted her hips, seeking more of his delicious hardness to settle the throbbing ache she felt for him.
"Draco..." she panted, squirming beneath him, practically bathing the front of his trousers with just how turned on she was in the moment. "Don't make me beg..."
He chuckled low in his throat, "But you beg so prettily, Granger." He gave a sharp thrust of his hips for added measure, crushing her mouth to his once again to swallow her cry of pleasure.
She reluctantly pulled her mouth away from him, only so she could lean forward and try in vain to frantically unbuckle his belt and undo his trousers. Draco reared back on his heels, dragging her frenzied hands away from him to pin them to the mattress just above her head.
She whimpered in protest; her lust addled mind caring naught how pathetic it may make her seem.
"Tsk...tsk..." he chided her, "Let's not rush this..." He stared down at her; his expression guarded except for the obvious fire ablaze in his eyes as he admired every inch of her body. "Fuck, you are exquisite..." he murmured, the back of his knuckles teasing over her nipples before skimming down the soft plane of her abdomen. "I want to taste every inch of your sun-kissed skin," he purred, "...kiss every freckle..." He leaned down then, trailing his tongue across the smattering of freckles near her belly-button, up the length of her torso to the valley of her breasts before veering right to capture her already peaked nipple between his teeth, sucking and laving until she was thrashing under him, desperately trying to free her hands from his grip.
He dragged his lips to provide similar torture to her right breast now, freeing one of his hands to play delicately with the left nipple, erect and wet from his ministrations. While his mouth pulled and tugged almost mercilessly on her other breast, Draco slid his palm lightly over the left one in a teasing manner, reveling in how she mewled and keened from the rapture re-building itself deep in her core.
"Draco..." she breathed... "Oh fuck..."
He released her breast with a resounding pop, chuckling deeply. "Such language, Granger..."
She groaned and pushed against his one hand still restraining her wrists. "Release me..."
For a moment, his face darkened and he gave her wrists a squeeze, "Say please."
A strange thrill skidded up her spine at his command. "Please Draco... I n-need to touch you..."
His eyes went wide at her declaration and then a small smirk tugged at his lips. "Since you asked so nicely..."
The second his grip loosened, her hands found themselves in his hair and she pulled him in for a rough kiss, their lips tugging and biting, fighting for dominance in their urgency.
He growled and suddenly jerked away, trailing his tongue and teeth down the length of her body, nipping such sensitive areas as the underside of her breast, the juncture where her hip met her thigh and the back of her knee before settling on the arch of her foot. He held her gaze, commanding her to watch as he raised her leg and traced the curvature with the rough tip of his tongue, before settling it to rest on his shoulder, spreading her wide and giving him an eyeful of her glistening cunt.
"I have been a prisoner of my own imagination for far too long…" he said with reverence in his husky voice, sliding the pad of his thumb down the side of her calf. He licked his lips, "I won't ever forget this moment… you, Hermione Granger, spread so wantonly before me… a meal fit for a starving man…"
Hermione shivered as every muscle in her body clenched in anticipation at his words. He was being completely methodical in his worship of her, which she found both exciting and frustrating in equal measures.
He leaned over her, presenting his index and middle finger to her, "Suck," he commanded.
Trapped beneath his gaze, she opened her mouth, wrapping her tongue and lips around his digits, sliding the wet tip down the length of both, getting them nice and wet before drawing them into her mouth, hollowing her cheeks and sucking.
Draco groaned and his hips inadvertently thrusted against her thigh, the swell of his dick now seeking friction. "Merlin…fuck…ENOUGH."
She pouted as he withdrew his fingers, now dripping with her saliva.
He straightened and cocked his brow, "You really do have a bit of a naughty streak in you, don't you, Granger?"
She shrugged, feeling just a tad bit like a bad girl here and now with him, "Why don't you find out?"
He smirked down at her for a brief moment, then proceeded to run those two fingers up the length of her slit, "Perhaps I will." He parted her already wet folds and thrust inside her.
Hermione's back arched off the bed, gasping into the silent night as Draco suddenly filled her. Crooking the tips of his fingers, he took special care to hit that perfect and elusive spot as he slowly dragged along her inner walls, pulling out before thrusting in once more.
"So tight…" he purred, "….so fucking wet…" Again, the slow drag of his fingers as he exited her channel.
"Draco…." She panted.
"Tell me what you want, Hermione…" his voice low and gravelly, each word a restrained whisper, spoken to the painstakingly slow rhythm of the push and pull of his fingers inside her.
Oh god… oh god… Her whole body burned with need as the prelude to her climax ignited. Words failed her.
He skimmed his teeth over the sensitive skin of her ankle, biting tenderly, "I need to hear you say it…"
Fuck… "You… I want you…." she somehow managed to plea.
"You want me where….?" He thrusted three fingers into her now, stretching her, getting her more than wet and ready for his cock. "Say. It."
Oh Merlin. "In-inside me…" she stammered, her body gripping his fingers, begging him to stay. She was on the brink… could feel her channel tightening in preparation.
"Fuck," he groaned, withdrawing from her quickly and rising from the bed.
Feeling suddenly bereft without his touch, she curled onto her side, working to catch her breath as she watched him hurriedly undressing, unbuckling his belt and yanking down his trousers and boxers all in one swift movement.
As Draco's cock sprang forward, Hermione quickly sat up in the bed, her eyes growing painfully wide. She had never seen it the one time they had been together, only felt it. But, now, there it was… long and thick and ready… a few drops of precum already glistening on the top of the shaft.
She swallowed thickly, a sure sign of her sudden nervousness.
A soft touch of fingers on her cheek drew her gaze away from it and she looked up into his warm grey eyes. He leaned down and laid a gentle kiss to her lips. "I'll go slow…" he whispered against her mouth.
Suddenly speechless, she nodded. He stole another kiss from her, this one longer and fiercer than before, leaving her again gasping for breath.
"Lay back," he ordered and she readily obliged, scooting to the middle of her mattress, lying back, her knees bent and her thighs apart.
She felt the bed dip as he joined her, kneeling before her.
With the palms of his hands, he eased her legs further apart, laying soft kisses on the skin of her knees, down her inner thighs and across her abdomen as he settled himself above her.
Paying close attention to the scar splayed across her ribs, he gently pressed his lips to the purple-hued flesh, almost as if to heal it with his kiss. He followed it with a slide of his tongue across her breast, paving a wet trail up to her collarbone until his lips settled on the soft skin at the juncture of her throat.
With delicate precision, he ran just the tip of his tongue over the small faded white scar he found there… the ever-present reminder of the bite of Bellatrix's blade so long ago.
And then he was kissing her once again, his plush lips and tongue stroking her mouth as her thoughts fogged with lust, languishing to near abandonment.
Gods above, Draco Malfoy could make any woman forget herself with simply the touch of his lips.
Hermione clung to his muscled shoulders, her nails scoring his pale skin as she pulled him closer. She shifted her hips then, coating his shaft in her slick as she writhed beneath him.
A groan reverberated through his chest and he pulled free of her mouth, pushing himself up on the palms of his hands to gaze down at her. There was a look, confusion mixed with lust, warring in his expression. Then he straightened, shifting back on his heels.
She rose up on her elbows, worry etched in her voice, "Draco, are you alright?"
"Are you…" he started, then he grimaced and looked away. "Are you on the potion?"
He couldn't have surprised her more with his question. "Oh… ummmm… no, I'm not."
He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing with the strain, and only briefly glanced at her before replying, "Should I... should I cast the contraceptive charm then?"
"We can't... the contract was specific..." she supplied.
"The contract," he bit out, "clearly states we are not allowed once we are married… I'm not sure they've set a precedent for couples shagging before the vows…."
She raised an eyebrow, smirking up at him, "Seems someone did read that contract after all…." She playfully poked him in his ribs.
He cleared his throat and Hermione distinctively noticed he had turned a subtle shade of pink.
"Draco," she sighed resolutely, carefully choosing her next words. "Best not try the Ministry's patience any more than we already have…"
He responded with a curt nod but still avoided looking at her, causing her heart to clench in her chest. Was he already having second thoughts? No, his raging erection was proof enough he wanted her... wanted this... So, did he worry she would change her mind? If he only fucking knew the truth.
She sat up, her hand caressing his cheek, turning him to face her. "And… if we manage to get pregnant," she assured him, "I could only be so lucky…"
His brow furrowed at her words and his eyes gazed at her with uncertainty.
Appeal to his vanity, her inner voice urged. She shrugged, "While I would prefer, we have a bit more time to get acquainted with one another… I want to give you your heir… I'm quite thrilled about the possibility, actually."
Draco released the breath he was holding and he visibly relaxed. "Fuck, Granger… you are a wonder…" He cupped her face in his palms and laid a gentle kiss to her lips. She sighed, her fingers wrapping around his wrists and opened her mouth, allowing him entrance. He shoved his tongue inside, plundering the warm offering as if it were his ambrosia.
He eased her to lie back and he covered her with his body. Her legs opened and he settled between her thighs, his shaft hard and heavy on her abdomen. He broke contact to graze his lips and tongue across her jaw and down her neck. One large hand encircled the base of her throat but he kept the pressure light as his mouth found her ear.
"If we do this, I'll never let you go, Hermione. You'll finally be mine..." he breathed against the shell of her ear.
His... She moaned and canted her hips, urging him to take her. "Yes... please... Draco..."
He rose above her, their gazes locked and he finally ceased waiting. He pushed against her, easing into her welcoming warmth, inch by slow inch, savoring the feel of her tightness as she clamped down on his cock.
And to Hermione, it felt like coming home. As he slid slowly inside her, it felt both familiar yet new…. A momentous occasion, marking the end of "you and I" and the beginning of "we". The whole wide world simply fell away, leaving only what mattered in that moment- the two of them and the drag of his hips against her.
She drifted the tip of her tongue along the rim of his ear, huskily whispering, "Fuck me, Draco."
Of their own volition his hips thrust against her, hard, until he was fully sheathed inside her, eliciting a primal grunt from within him. She, in turn, choked on a satisfying cry of pleasure at finally being so full of him…
He shifted, partially withdrawing from her tight heat before he pushed back in, burying himself to the hilt, his hips pressing brutally against her own. Hermione's head fell back, her eyes squeezing shut as she savored the feel of him. She knew it was absurd to feel this way, but she couldn't help herself... Finally, she felt complete with him there in her arms... his shaft buried so deep inside her. It was as if after all this time, she had found the missing piece of her body and soul.
She realized only a moment later, he had ceased all movement. She lifted her head and met his gaze. What she saw there made her shiver. His grey eyes were wide and almost fearful as he studied her face, searching for something she couldn't yet name. He looked so vulnerable... so unguarded in that moment, her heart clenched in her chest. He stared at her lips, one large palm cupping her cheek as his thumb pulled slightly at her lower lip. "Hermione..." Her name fell from his lips in prayer. It was like he was trying to convince himself she was real... real and here and in his arms.
"Draco..." she whispered back assuredly.
His eyes met hers as something profound seemed to pass unspoken between them. And then he shifted, dragging himself from the tightness of her body before thrusting again, this time with more force. She choked on a sob of pleasure, her head falling back once again as she willingly gave herself over to him.
It was all she could do to wrap her arms around him and desperately cling to his hard form as he proceeded to torture her with a rhythm of steady deep thrusts, his soft breaths and deep grunts adding fuel to the fire he continuously stoked within. One strong arm cradled her to his body while his free hand wandered, caressing and plying her flesh as he did just as he said he would and took her slowly and with great reservation. It was wonderfully intense and powerfully moving.
They were no longer two eighteen year olds, fumbling with uncertainty as she gave him her virginity in a matter of minutes on the stone floor of the astronomy tower. This Draco Malfoy seemed keen on making this moment last, drawing out both of their pleasure as he rocked his hips against her, his length caressing her from within, building towards an elusive peak they both craved.
His mouth found her breast, and he sucked the stiff nipple between his lips, skimming it with teeth and tongue until he had her clawing at his back, her own teeth nipping his shoulder to keep from crying out. His hand drifted once more to settle at her throat and he guided her to look at him, all the while never losing the rhythm of his thrusts.
"Tell me how to please you, Hermione..." he panted.
This whole time, he had been in control, leading their passion by the bridle, demanding to be obeyed at all cost. But with those six words, he was handing her the reins and she surged with the powerful feeling. Her magic sparked and flowed, caressing his own... feeding into his strength.
"Faster..." she urged, "Go faster..."
His hips readily obliged, snapping against her, driving his length into her with renewed purpose. Wrapping both arms around her waist, he reared back, filling her... his thrusts becoming harder, his cock ramming into her channel, grazing her pubic bone.
She cried out, arching her back. Merlin above, he felt good.
His grip tightened on her hip, the pads of his fingers bruising her delicate flesh as he quickened his pace even further, watching her intently as she took all of him over and over, his name falling from her lips with each thrust.
A strange warmth suddenly bloomed from within, stroking just beneath her skin, there, where he held her so firmly. Her hand covered his and blue fire ignited, engulfing them as he entwined their fingers. She watched in awe as it slowly spread up the length of their arms, dancing against their bodies yet never burning either of them.
He eased her back against the mattress, settling on top of her, their conjoined hands he pressed to the sheets, the fire raging across their skin yet leaving no marks on the bed itself.
He leaned forward, "Mine...", he growled deep in her ear, his thrusts slowing, yet somehow becoming harder, deeper than before.
Hermione felt her womb flutter as his cock hit just where she needed it. She clenched around him, "Y-yes...D-Draco..." And then her body released, waves of pleasure filling her. "YES, D-DRACO!" she cried out. The blue flames surged higher, flickering to red then gold, bathing them both in an incandescent light.
He sank into her, bottoming out, giving her all of himself as he buried his face against her throat. She clenched tightly around his cock, holding him inside her as he shuddered his release.
Draco suddenly collapsed on top of her, his thick cock still nestled within her folds. She folded him into her embrace, the fingers of her free hand running through his sweat-soaked locks as he trembled against her. The light from the flames simmered and slowly faded, leaving no visible trace behind that it was ever there to begin with.
Slowly, the tremors lessened and he released her hand, followed by the disengagement of their bodies. She whimpered in protest but he didn't seem to even hear as he dragged himself from her hold, abruptly moving off her to sit on the edge of the bed, his back pressed against her headboard, one foot planted on the floor as he folded the duvet across his lap to hide his deflating member.
As the last of their mingled magic evaporated, a strange tension surrounded them now, rimmed in the after-sex awkwardness Hermione remembered from their previous encounter. Draco shifted restlessly as she scooted into a seated position, their combined fluids making her clench her thighs together.
She tried yanking the duvet to cover herself but it had somehow wedged itself under and between them during their frenzied lovemaking, so she found herself rather unsuccessful in her attempt, jostling them both, her elbow landing in his lap, grazing his shaft. He hissed in discomfort.
"S-sorry..." she stammered, straightening beside him.
"It's fine," came his curt reply.
They both immediately looked away from each other, their gazes searching her sparse room as silence enveloped them. She couldn't help but notice how he clenched his fist into the duvet as she kept busy twisting her engagement ring round and round her finger, her mind desperately trying to think of something... anything... to say.
"Alright there, Granger?" he asked abruptly, causing her to jump. A quick glance at him saw he was focused on watching her fiddle with the diamond.
"Y-yes... everything is..." she floundered, "... I mean, was... is?...uh... splendid."
"Splendid?" He questioned, his brow furrowing.
"Ummm... yes... yes, perfectly adequate..." she hurriedly added then snapped her mouth shut. Quickly she turned away from him rolling her eyes at herself for her poor choice of words, mouthing "Adequate?" Good one, Granger.
He cleared his throat, "Adequate... right..."
She felt the bed shift under his weight and she closed her eyes in despair. Fuck, she wouldn't blame him if he fled to the Floo to escape her in that moment. Adequate? Adequate! Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck!
Fingertips danced along her spine in the gentlest of caresses and, startled, she whipped around to look at him, a shocked grunt escaping her as her lips met his.
Using his thumb to pull on her lower lip, she opened immediately for the invasion, his tongue deftly licking along her teeth, thrusting against and mating with her own as he stole her breath.
A few minutes of intense snogging followed before he finally drew back, pressing his forehead against hers, his hands cradling her face.
She sighed breathlessly, "That was..." Words failed her.
"Adequate?" he offered.
Embarrassed, she shifted back to bury her face in her hands. "I know! I'm terrible at this!"
He chuckled, dragging her hands away from her face. "Don't be so hard on yourself. Seems we're both shite at..." He waved his hand between them, "...this..."
He leaned in and kissed her again, shorter now but no less intense. "Mmm..." he practically growled, "... but there does seem to be something to this whole compatibility nonsense..."
That brought a soft smile to her face and she averted her gaze, suddenly feeling just a little shy. A mess of sweaty curls fell into her face, sticking to her cheek. She automatically pushed them back, realizing right then what she probably looked like to him. "I must look like hell," she replied, reaching her hands up to gather the frizzy mass, twisting them away from her neck to bring cooling relief to her flushed skin.
His face suddenly grew serious as he blatantly studied her, "You look like a woman who has been thoroughly shagged..." he answered honestly, "... and found it to be a perfectly adequate experience..." He gave her a devilish smirk and she smacked him against his chest, earning herself a full-blown laugh from him, his whole face lighting up.
"Cad!" she chided playfully.
She tried to hit him again but he easily caught her hand and brought it to his lips, laying a gentle kiss across her fingers. He purposely met her gaze and said, "You're fucking beautiful, Hermione."
She couldn't help it, his words made her blush, even though she suspected them to be a lie.
"Adequate shagging looks good on you," he finished.
"Stop!" She grabbed the nearest pillow to smack him with it which he immediately caught, yanked her into his arms and flipped her to lie on her back, his body quickly covering hers.
They were both still giggling like kids until his gaze drifted down, finding her nipple exposed from the slipped duvet. He grew serious once again, a knuckle sliding over the pink peak, watching in awe as it stiffened in response. Her breath caught and his gaze moved to her lips before meeting her eyes. He pushed another curl from her face, "Did I hurt you?"
She shook her head, "No... it was good..."
He groaned as if she had wounded him, "Good? Fuck, Granger, that's almost as bad as adequate... For the self-proclaimed brightest witch of our age, you have a rubbish way with words."
She rolled her eyes at his teasing, "It was great, okay?! Bloody Fantastic! Completely mind blowing. Draco Malfoy, you've ruined me for all other men!" she exaggerated, before adding, "Is that more to your liking?"
He paused to consider her words. "Better..." His face suddenly darkened and he gave her a wicked smirk, "Because if I have my way, there will be no other men."
"Oooo... someone is feeling very confident in his bedroom skills..."
"Mmm... something like that..." And then he kissed her soundly.
He didn't linger on her lips this time, his mouth trailing down her neck to the slope of her shoulder, eliciting a whimper from her.
"Very confident indeed," she murmured as he sucked a love bite on her neck before trailing his tongue to the curve of her ear.
"I'm quite sure you won't be able to find another adequate man out there..." he whispered, "... unless of course Weaselette comes to her senses and leaves Potter. Potter definitely seems like he's quite adequate, if I do say so myself..."
"Draco!" she exclaimed, playfully shoving him away, "You can leave now," she teased.
As if hit with a blow, he suddenly tensed and his face fell. He released her, returning to his previous position, this time with both feet planted on the floor, ready to bolt. "Do you want me to leave?" He asked sincerely.
A pit formed in her stomach and she rose to sit beside him. She swallowed, "Do you want to go?"
He took his time in answering her, choosing instead to fiddle with a loose thread on the duvet. "No," he finally replied honestly. He turned to look at her, "But I've never lingered with anyone afterwards... I don't much care for cuddling, Granger."
Her heart skipped a beat in her chest at just the mention of cuddling with Draco Malfoy. She quickly tempered her body's reaction, suggesting, "Well, we could just talk."
His brow rose in surprise, "Talk?"
"Yes, talk... what two adults sometimes do to fill the void between eating, drinking and fucking."
He snorted in derision, "Such a filthy mouth you have." His thumb traced along her bottom lip as he contemplated her words. But then a shadow fell across his gaze and he dropped his hand and turned away. "Let's not ruin this by getting vulnerable with each other." He rose from the bed, grabbing his boxer-briefs from the floor, giving her a glorious view of his well-defined backside for all of ten seconds as he pulled them on.
"Draco," she tried, that stone settling heavy in her abdomen as he reached for his trousers next. "Please don't go."
He froze but didn't turn to look at her. She gulped, standing from the bed and sidling up next to him, her hands wrapping around his left arm, a finger caressing over his Dark Mark, "I want you to stay."
His head turned to look down at her, "If the lady so wishes... for a little while, at least."
She gave him a shy smile and he entwined their fingers, laying a brief kiss on the back of her hand. "But," he countered, "I want cake."
"Deal," she agreed excitedly. "Wait here while I go fetch it?"
He nodded and she practically bounced on the balls of her feet, hurrying to grab an old Gryffindor t-shirt from the dresser to pull on before leaving the bedroom.
She was only gone for less than a minute and when she returned, he, thankfully, still wore just his boxers and had resumed his position in her bed, back propped against her headboard, both legs stretched out before him, his ankles crossed and a book open in his lap. It was such a remarkable and lovely sight that she felt struck dumb by it. She hovered in the doorway, simply enjoying staring at him, thoughts of domestic bliss fancifully filling her head.
"You're gawking," he said, eyes never leaving the book as he turned the page.
She gave herself a mental shake, clearing her throat before replying, "I just never imagined you would one day be in my bed... it's surreal... and kinda hot."
He mockingly rolled his eyes, "You have literally had my cock inside you, witch, yet this is what gets you bothered?" A realization hit him then and he held up the book, "It's the book, isn't it? Such a swot, Granger..."
She blushed at his obvious insinuation, finally closing the distance between them. "And you are still the annoying little ferret I knew in school."
"Ugh. Fuck Barty Crouch Jr.! The Dementor's Kiss was too easy a punishment, if you ask me." He set the book down on the bedside table then reached for her, drawing her close for a decent kiss. "Where's my cake, witch?" he asked, teasing her with swipes of his tongue as he nuzzled her earlobe.
She couldn't help herself, giggling a little as his hot breath danced across her skin. "Mmmm... someone is ticklish..." he murmured, and proceeded to drag his fingertips under the hem of her shirt, stroking the backs of her thighs as he continued his onslaught of her neck.
She meekly pushed his hand away, "Stop, Draco... you infuriating wanker." But her laughter accompanying the disparaging moniker did little to dissuade him.
She proceeded to climb over his lap in an attempt to get away from him, giving him an up close and personal view of her ass sans knickers, which gave him pause. She quickly settled down beside him, offering him the tin-foil swan, "Your cake, milord."
He licked his lips, growling, "I'd rather have your arse, Granger..."
It was her turn to lift a brow, "Sorry, milord, but I'm afraid that is not on the menu."
"Pity." He gave her his patented sneer before taking the wrapped chocolate cake from her. "All right, Granger, regale me with some spirited tale from your youth while I enjoy this delectable pudding you have so graciously bestowed on me." With a swipe of his fingers, a conjured fork suddenly appeared in his hand. He took a hearty bite, "Mmmm... delicious but I enjoy your cunt more..."
She playfully smacked him but blushed nonetheless from his crude praise. "You are going to share, right? It is my birthday, after all."
He rolled his eyes, "If I must." He forked a tiny morsel and offered it to her.
"Malfoy!" she chided.
"Oh fine, then!" He added a bit more before presenting it to her. She took the bite, chewing and swallowing the decadent cake before smirking at him, "You don't like to share, do you?"
That shadow appeared again in his grey eyes, akin to dark clouds brewing before a good thunderstorm. "Never," he affirmed. He turned back to the cake, enjoying another piece. "I'm waiting."
She leaned back against the headboard. "A story from my youth?" she asked, considering his words.
He waved the fork at her, "Something from Hogwarts, if you like."
"Okay. Hmmm..."
"Start with First Year and go from there."
She cocked a brow at him but he flat out ignored it, concentrating on the cake. She decided to indulge him because why not? She wanted him to stay. She enjoyed the companionship and wasn't that the reason she volunteered for the marriage law, to begin with.
"First year..." she started. "Oh, I know, during Harry's first Quidditch match..."
"Oh for fuck's sake... I don't want to hear about Boy Wonder while I enjoy my post-coitus snack, thank you very much."
"Shut it, Malfoy," she chided. "As I was saying, during Harry's first Quidditch match, I was the one who snuck over to the teacher's box and set Professor Snape's robes on fire."
Draco had just swallowed a mouthful of his cake when she revealed her confession, causing him to choke and sputter. "You're lying," he somehow managed, coughing.
"Afraid not. I thought he was cursing Harry's broom and needed to break his concentration."
"Fuck, Granger, we've skipped past slightly naughty, your downright evil at times."
"I'll take that as a compliment from a Slytherin."
"Good, because it was meant as one," and he gave her a sly grin. "Snape was beyond furious after that match, you know. Offered us Slytherins a boon if we could discover the culprit."
"Well, then it's probably best he didn't find out... I most assuredly would have been expelled."
He snorted, "McGonagall never would have allowed that. Alright, so First Year you were fucking diabolical. Do I even want to hear about Second Year?"
She pondered for a moment, "Second Year... well... I spent a good portion of it petrified so I'm not sure there's much to say in that regard."
Draco shifted uneasily beside her at the mention of the basilisk's obvious inclination towards killing Muggleborns and his recollection of this being the year he first labeled her a Mudblood. It occurred to her then, what to tell him, hoping to lighten the sudden uncomfortableness. "Ah, I have it... in another Snape-related moment, I stole from his personal stores and brewed polyjuice potion in the girl's lavatory."
Draco's eyes widened, "You, a second year, brewed polyjuice potion?"
"I did. And it sorta worked."
He raised a brow, "Sort of?"
"Mmmm... I successfully turned Harry and Ron into Crabbe and Goyle but mistakenly transformed myself into some kind of human-cat hybrid."
She chanced a glance at him then, and he was clearly shocked but he suddenly burst out laughing. "That's why you were in the infirmary?!"
She waved it off, having heard it all before, "Yes, yes... have a good laugh...wanker."
Still chuckling, he had to wipe the tears from his eyes. "Did you have a tail?"
She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest, "Of course. And it was humiliating! Especially when Snape had to brew the potion to reverse it. He just kept looking at me... like he knew what I did but yet couldn't quite prove it."
He snickered in response and she nudged him with her elbow. Then a thought occurred to him, "Wait, why did Harry and Ron want to be Crabbe and Goyle?" His face darkened a second later, "Oh for fuck's sake! It was about me, wasn't it?!"
She swallowed but avoided meeting his gaze, "We thought you were the Heir to Slytherin."
"And if I was, you assumed I would have told those two buffoons?! Hardly..."
"They were your best mates..."
He gave her a look, "Hardly," he reiterated. "They were my lackeys; there's a difference."
"Well, it all proved for naught, anyways."
"Mmmm..." he hummed, his vision cast down at the cake in his lap, his mind obviously mulling something over.
"Draco, if you don't like me telling you this, we can talk about something else," she offered, laying a comforting hand on his forearm.
He shook his head, "It's not that."
"Then what is it?" she asked with caution.
He grew contemplative. "A confession for a confession, Granger?"
Her heart quite literally stopped in her chest. "All right..." she whispered.
He cleared his throat then swallowed, "I'm the one who uhhh... tore the page out of the book about the basilisk and slipped it into your bookbag."
"What?!"
He nodded, "I overheard my father talking about it and well... you're not the only one good at doing research. It didn't take much for me to put the pieces together. I slipped the information to you when you weren't making much headway."
"B-but...why?" She was confused and more than a little surprised. Draco Malfoy in Second Year was a horrible little tosser who spewed vitriol wherever he went.
He shrugged, "I didn't really want to see anyone get hurt... except maybe Potter and Weasley. And I definitely didn't want the school to get shut down. That would have made my parents responsible for my education." He gave a mock shiver. "Hogwarts was my home too."
"I... I wish you would have said something."
"You wouldn't have believed me if I tried."
"True…" she conceded, "But still..." She met and held his gaze, her eyes filling with unshed tears.
He shook his head and gave a quick peck to the tip of her nose, brushing off the angsty revelation, "Don't go all soft on me now, Gryffindor. It would have changed nothing. I still hated you for years."
She recognized his attempt at changing the subject but refused to let herself be bated. She snatched the cake from his lap, ignoring his mild protest, then crawled over him, straddling him. She cradled his face and kissed him hard on the mouth. His hands fell to her welcoming thighs and he pulled her closer, growling deep in his chest, taking full control of the kiss now.
She tore her lips away after a good minute of snogging. "Thank you, Draco," she reiterated.
He gave a curt nod. Then came his devilish smirk, "Can I eat cake off your arse now?"
"Nope."
He sighed resolutely. "Can't blame a bloke for trying."
They shared a laugh and a few more heated kisses which caused her rather sore body to respond in the most delightful ways, surprising her. She could feel herself growing wet at just the mere possibility of another go with the virile wizard currently between her legs.
"Draco," she panted, his tongue paving a path down the length of her throat.
He yanked at her t-shirt, "You need more suitable bedroom attire, Granger... Maybe something green and much more transparent."
She made a weak attempt at pushing his hand away, "I thought we were talking..."
He shifted, pushing her onto her back on the mattress. He immediately covered her, his lips grazing over the thin material covering her breast. "So, talk."
Finding the nipple already erect, he laved at with his tongue, wetting the front of her shirt. She keened and writhed against him, her thigh sliding against his shaft, already standing at half-mast. "Hard to c-concentrate when you're not playing fair..."
"Come now, Hermione, I never play fair. It's not in my nature." He had a hand on her thigh, slowly sliding under the hem of the shirt. "Here, I'll help you," he purred, "Tell me about the Muggle boy."
One long finger drifted over her sex before circling her clit, caressing the sensitive bundle of nerves with a light touch, driving her absolutely mental.
She gasped. "W-who?" She couldn't think, damnit. Not when he was stoking the blaze between her thighs so effortlessly.
"The Muggle... your first time..."
Hermione froze, a figurative bucket of ice water thrown over her, quenching her lust. She pushed up on her forearms to look at him, "W-why do you want to know?"
He shrugged, "I'm curious."
She wiggled underneath him, shoving him off her as she sat up, pulling her knees to her chest. "I told you - he was nobody. I - I don't even remember his name."
A mirthless laugh, "I doubt that, Granger. Besides, one never forgets their first time." He grabbed one of her pillows and shoved it behind his head, his hands clasping together to rest on his abdomen.
"Fine. Then a confession for a confession, as you would say," she bit out. "I've told you mine, now you tell me yours."
The asshole literally had the nerve to smirk. "All right. But be warned, you won't like it."
She had that sinking feeling gnawing in her stomach once again. But she had come too far to quit while she was ahead. "Are you going to tell me or not?" she snipped.
He rolled his eyes upwards as he searched his memories. "Let's see... I guess we're skipping right over Third, Fourth and Fifth Year then. The summer before Sixth Year. It was my sixteenth birthday, to be exact. My father had just been sent to Azkaban so you can imagine the sort of mood that hung over Malfoy Manor."
That sensation in her gut - it went from zero to nausea at his words. She tried to listen but the pounding of her own heart was not making it easy on her. He was right, she wasn't going to like this.
"The Dark Lord had big plans for me, you see." His gaze automatically shifted to the mark on his arm and he ran one long finger over the hideous tattoo. "But before I could be a Death Eater... I needed to be a man. And as luck would have it, Rodolphus Lestrange nominated himself as my new father figure. Snape tried to intervene, but Voldemort got some sort of perverse enjoyment out of my fear. I was hauled off to a brothel and forced onto some young Squib woman. She was..." He paused to take a breath, "... she was nice... sweet even... It wouldn't have been so bad but they stayed and watched..."
"They?" she asked quietly.
"Rodolphus. Bellatrix. Yaxley. Dolohov…", he spit the names with quiet venom. "The Dark Lord's orders so he could pick their brains later and see it for himself."
He closed his eyes, his fingers clenching into fists. "He liked to do that, you know…watch…" The last word falling from his lips with a tremble.
"Oh god," she murmured, disgust rolling through her, her hand covering her mouth in shock. She felt wetness, there, on her cheeks, and she realized they were tears. She swiped them away.
"I warned you..." he whispered.
"Draco, I'm so sorry."
"Whatever for... you didn't do anything to me. They were the ones who took away my choice." His tone was deadly quiet.
She swallowed then cast her vision down, staring at the ridiculous lion on her shirt which symbolized courage and bravery. She had taken his choice from him, the moment she obliviated him on that astronomy tower. It had been a move of the utmost cowardice. Did that make her no better than Rodolphus? Or worse, Voldemort himself?
She couldn't look at him. She turned away, vanishing the remains of the cake back to her kitchen. "It's getting late," she replied, just so she could have something to say.
"But we aren't finished here."
That got her attention and she turned to look at him.
"We still have Sixth Year to cover." His face was now devoid of all emotion, a sure sign his Occlumency shields had slipped into place. She couldn't explain it, but that bit of knowledge filled her with dread.
She swallowed, "That's rather dangerous territory, don't you think?"
"Then I'll keep it simple for you." There was an edge in his voice that made her all the more uncomfortable. "Slughorn's class. The Amortentia. Tell me what you smelled."
Hermione released the breath she hadn't known she'd been holding and huffed out a laugh. It seemed to lift some of the tension in the room created by his tale of woe. "Well... if you had been paying attention at all that day, you'd remember I already revealed that tidbit once before."
He shrugged, "Humor me. I had other things on my mind at the time."
"Right," she sighed. She took a breath, concentrating on her hands in her lap. "Well, there's parchment… ink and paper to be more exact."
"You do love your books," he agreed.
He shifted in the bed, rising to kneel before her. Now that she had conceded to his demand, his expression was starting to relax. He met her gaze then leaned towards her and hooked his arms under her knees, yanking her forward so she dropped on her back against the mattress. She didn't fight him. "Draco, w-what are you doing?"
His hard gaze softened. "You're going to help me forget. Can you do that for me, Hermione?" His voice was low and sincere.
There was a sharp sting of pain that sliced through her chest at his words. A tear slipped unwarranted down her cheek. "Yes.." she whispered. You really have no idea, Draco… she added in her mind.
"Go on then." Bringing one leg to rest on his shoulder, he skimmed teeth and tongue along the sensitive skin of her calf, smirking when he heard her breath catch. He proceeded to slowly lower his body to the bed to settle between her legs, spreading her wide with the breadth of his shoulders. The tips of his fingers, a light and feathery touch, traced over the skin of her knees to settle on the soft flesh of her inner thighs.
She closed her eyes and released a shuddering breath, the tell-tale slick of her arousal already dripping from her core. In that moment, she desired nothing more than to utterly lose herself to him.
"Tell. Me." His words were hot… both literally and figuratively. They brushed over her, bathing her in a strange warmth, which spread up and over her entire being, giving rise to a new flush which pinkened her flesh.
A press of his lips, there, just above her pubic bone.
"Hermione," he warned, one finger pressing against her soaked folds, just the tip slipping into her channel, teasing her mercilessly.
"Fre-freshly m-mowed grass…." she stammered.
His hand stilled. Her eyes snapped open and their gazes met, his brow was furrowed and grey eyes reflected skepticism.
"Like the Quidditch pitch right before a game…" she offered in vague explanation.
To that statement, he raised a curious brow. "The Quidditch pitch, you say? Interesting… You never struck me as a groupie, Granger." His tone was laced with suspicion. Of what, she wasn't sure.
She pushed herself up on her elbows to better see him. "I liked to go there to read and enjoy the fresh air and serenity an empty stadium had to offer."
"Is that the only reason?" he questioned.
She bit her lip and shook her head dramatically. His finger rested just on the cusp of entering her cunt. She desperately wanted to shift a mere fraction and bring it inside her, her body craving that elusive high from earlier. "Maybe I hoped for a sighting of a certain Seeker, who often practiced during those times..."
He chuckled darkly, "Your obsession with Potter borders alongside the ridiculous, Granger."
"Draco!" she exclaimed, grabbing at a pillow and smacking him with it. "I meant you, bloody idiot!"
He narrowly managed to avoid the hit, dodging the blow with practiced skill, then retaliated by grabbing her and pulling her into his embrace. He adjusted them both, bringing her legs to wrap around his waist. She was practically sitting in his lap now. She wiggled experimentally and relished his gasp as she grazed his already hard cock.
His hand fisted in her curls and he brought her mouth close, a mere breath away from actually touching. "And?" he whispered, his lips barely sliding over hers as he spoke.
"And…" she breathed, "…ummmm…" she stammered, suddenly forgetting what they were even discussing, her eyes focused on his beautiful, soft lips. Draco Malfoy had the softest lips imaginable and she wanted to feel them on every inch of her body. Sweet Circe…
His head fell back in exasperation. "So, help me, Granger, if you say spearmint toothpaste..."
The Amortentia, right... "Draco Malfoy, you were paying attention all those years ago!" He shifted his gaze away from her, the embarrassment of being caught out evident in his suddenly flushed cheeks.
"I've already admitted to having a decade-long crush on you. Is it so hard to believe that I hung on your every word?"
"No..." She laid her palm on his cheek and turned him towards her, her mouth slanting over his in the sweetest, gentlest kiss she could manage.
He abruptly pulled back, "Spearmint toothpaste is disgusting, Granger."
She feigned like he had wounded her, "I happen to quite enjoy the flavor... a product of growing up with dentists as parents."
"Bad taste aside, that isn't what you really smelled..." he surmised.
"No, not toothpaste..." she agreed, though she wasn't sure how he knew. She swallowed, met his waiting gaze, "...Juicy, luscious green apples..." she replied, one finger drifting up his forearm, tracing a path to the firm muscle of his bicep. "The same apples favored so often by one Slytherin Prince..."
She gasped as she once again found herself flat on her back against the mattress, his lithe body quickly covering hers, his hips cradled by her thighs.
"Good answer," he replied, his mouth finding hers. It was a searing kiss of raw possessiveness... the kind that left your knickers soaked and curled your toes in anticipation. Having rid himself of his boxers, she could feel his cock pressing forward, practically weeping for acceptance inside her.
"You're a goddess, Hermione Granger…your body, a temple…." he purred, "Let me inside so I may worship you."
"Wait..." she whimpered, the word tumbling from her mouth before she even knew why she said it. He abruptly stopped, shifting just a bit to the side to look down at her. "It's your turn. A confession for a confession, remember?" In actuality, she was feeling very overwhelmed by his intensity and needed a moment to clear her head.
His mouth opened to offer a retort then snapped shut. He stared at her lips, one finger tracing over them before he pushed himself to his knees.
"Do you trust me?" he asked.
"I do," she replied with no hesitation.
"Then on your stomach, witch."
Excitement took root inside her and she hurriedly complied, discarding her t-shirt before laying down once again. A sharp intake of breath was all she heard as she rested her cheek on her folded hands and waited, her backside on full display.
His long fingers stroked over her, tracing from the base of her neck over the curve of her back to settle on the firmness of her ass. He moved then, straddling her upper thighs before lowering his mouth to her skin, the tip of his tongue skating down the line of her spine.
"The pages of an old book," he whispered, "...like the ones a bushy-haired swot is so fond of reading..."
His hands squeezed the globes of her buttocks, and she hissed when she felt his teeth nip at her, surely leaving his mark on her right cheek. He moved further down now, one fingertip traveling lightly over the crack, following the designated path straight to her cunt. "Lift your hips, Hermione," he urged and she did as he commanded.
"Fuck," he muttered as he gazed at her soaked core. He lowered his head, the tip of his nose nudging along her folds before he closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. "The smell after a long rain... when the world is so wet and fresh..." With the flat of his tongue, he tasted her, lapping at her juices dripping from her slit, before working two of his long fingers inside her. He growled as he gave her a few shallow thrusts then sank his digits into her to the knuckle, twisting and curling as he massaged her channel.
Hermione's head was spinning, her body begging for release as she resisted the urge to writhe beneath him. She let loose a moan, followed by an incoherent shout when he hit the exact spot needing his attention.
Draco pulled free and rose up on his knees, positioning himself behind her. With one sharp thrust, his cock was inside her, bottoming out. He stilled, panting his pleasure as he seemed to revel in the feel of her tightness as she stretched around him. He was so deep and she felt so full, it was almost too much. She was sure, as over-sensitized as she was, all he'd need to do was lightly touch her clit and she'd come completely undone.
He wrapped his hands around her upper arms and dragged her back against him, his mouth finding the shell of her ear. "Roses and vanilla..." he ground out through clenched teeth, his restrained passion hanging by a thread, "...like a certain shampoo you seem to favor..."
She chuckled weakly, a tear escaping down her cheek, "It softens my hair..."
"Yet makes me so fucking hard..." He jerked his hips to prove his point, his shaft burying even deeper, if that was possible.
"Draco!" she shouted, and she circled her hips, desperate to feel him move.
"Fuck..." he muttered and he couldn't resist any longer, shifting back as he pulled almost all the way out before plunging forward, filling her again. She moaned, grinding herself against him and was rewarded with another deep thrust, slower and harder than before.
He released her arms, one hand splaying over her throat in a loose grip, the other resting on her hip, and he began the steady, slow rhythm of the rough pummeling of his cock inside her. He'd bring her closer and closer to the edge with each thrust, but refused to allow her to be pushed over it. He was intent to keep her with him, riding the waves of ecstasy he knew their bodies were capable of.
She clawed at his muscled thighs, her gasps and cries seeming to urge him on. Without breaking stride, he nudged her down until she was on her hands and knees. The change in position had him driving deeper into her cunt than ever before and suddenly he was pounding her at an almost frantic, erratic pace.
"I could fuck you forever, Hermione," he rasped, "And it still wouldn't be enough."
Another thrust, his balls slapping against her ass with the force of it. "Would you like that, witch?" Two more thrusts, slower and more measured, drawing whimpers from her each time. "For me to keep fucking you?"
"Yes... yes, please..." she cried.
The hand gripping her waist shifted down and he coated two fingers in her slick before carefully gliding them over her clit, his touch the perfect amount of pressure to start the fluttering of her insides.
"Draco... oh gods..."
"Come for me, Hermione..." he urged. "Come all over my cock."
The tension deep inside her coiled and then snapped, her climax slamming into her so suddenly that she rather loudly shouted his name for all of sundry to hear.
Her cunt tightened around his shaft, pausing his movements. He pulled her back against him and groaned, whispering her name in her ear, before joining her in bliss, his hot cum spilling into her.
She went boneless against him, tired and completely drained, their sweat-soaked bodies clinging to each other. He wrapped her in his embrace, kissing her neck, moving her curls to the side while he whispered sweet endearments in her ear as she worked to calm her heart and slow her breathing. Eventually he withdrew, guiding her to lie down on the mattress. She curled on her side, facing away from him. He joined her, deft fingers trailing lazily over her curves.
For the longest time, neither of them spoke, simply basked in the euphoria of their lovemaking. He was surprisingly the first to break the silence.
"Sixth year... I used to go up to the astronomy tower..." he began and her breath caught and she swallowed, "... and I'd try to imagine what it would be like to make love to you. It's the one thing that kept me sane."
She rolled over on her back to look up into his eyes. One finger drifted over the nipple of her breast. Her breath caught as it instantly peaked under his touch. "Do I live up to your expectations?"
A small, genuine smile pulled at his mouth, "Far exceeded them... Nothing compares to the real Hermione Granger..." He leaned in and gave her mouth a quick kiss.
She took a breath, staring up into his stormy gaze, his eyes almost expectant of something. "I suppose I owe you a confession now…" came her soft reply.
In a split second decision, she felt her resolve break under his penetrating gaze. She swallowed thickly, "Seventh year…." She started to tremble and her voice shook with the effort. "… during the final battle…I…"
His hand suddenly covered her mouth, effectively cutting off her words. "I think that's enough for one night, Granger." His expression darkened and he kissed her one last time before rolling away, moving to sit on the edge of the bed, grabbing his boxers from the floor to pull them on.
Tell him. Say it, damnit!
But it was no use. The moment for truth had come and passed in a single heartbeat.
A very bad idea occurred to her then… one that once spoken aloud she'd never be able to take back. His possible rejection could very well fuck up this wonderful feeling taking root inside her.
Don't say it, Hermione… her brain screamed. Her bleeding Gryffindor heart, however, said go for it.
"Draco... w-would you..." she started then stopped, biting her lip. She wasn't sure she wanted to ruin this, whatever this was, but it was getting rather late and she would have to get some rest if she was to be in any shape to teach in the morning.
He watched her and waited patiently. She avoided looking at him and tried again, "...w-would you like to s-stay...the night...with me...?"
There. It was out in the open. May the gods have mercy on her soul.
When no immediate answer came, she chanced a quick glance up at him and was greeted with his familiar smirk. "Just try not to smother me with your hair, Granger."
Her heart slammed against her rib cage and then his mouth covered hers, thrusting his tongue inside her as he reasserted his claim over her.
His...
She pulled back, then made to push him off of her, hurriedly getting out of the bed, grabbing her t-shirt to cover herself.
"Where are you going?" he asked, clearly thrown off by her abruptness.
"The loo..." she replied from the doorway, "I've had a need to do so for about an hour now but thought if I disappeared, you'd cut and run."
"For fuck's sake, Granger… really?!"
She cleared her throat and in her best imitation of his whiney voice from Hogwarts, said, "I'm Draco Malfoy and I've never lingered afterwards…."
He snorted, "I do not sound that pretentious."
She closed the distance between them, "You do… but I don't mind." She leaned down and dropped a kiss on the corner of his mouth. "I'll only be a moment."
He rolled his eyes but a smirk played on his lips. He settled back against her pillows, his fingers lacing together behind his head as he watched her curiously. "I'd wager my entire inheritance that one day, you're going to let me eat cake off your arse."
She shrugged, giving him her most coquettish look, "We'll see...", then added rather impishly, "Cakes are served at weddings, aren't they?"
And with those parting words, she hurried out of the bedroom, his growl of "cheeky witch" the last thing she heard.
Hermione quickly washed her face and tried in vain to detangle her curls but finally settled on just securing them on the top of her head with a scrunchie. Finishing up with her ablutions, she glanced one final time in the mirror, marveling at how her skin seemed to glow. She supposed great sex just had that effect on her.
She couldn't have been gone more than five minutes, tops, however, when she returned to the bedroom, there was Draco, curled up on his side, a pillow clutched in his embrace, his body completely relaxed, his eyes closed.
"Draco Malfoy," she chided, "that's my side of the bed..."
"You forfeited it by being gone too long," he mumbled into the pillow.
"I was literally in the loo for 3 minutes!"
"2 minutes and 59 seconds too long..." he countered.
She climbed in beside him, realizing that in her absence he had scourgified the sheets and duvet, putting everything to rights from their voracious lovemaking. As she laid back against the pillows, he immediately adjusted his position, pressing himself to her body, an arm draping over her waist, his head resting on her breasts. Her heart literally stopped beating.
With trembling hands, she ran her fingers through his hair, watching as the soft, pale blond locks trailed between her knuckles. He released a breathy sigh of sheer contentment and pressed himself tighter against her.
"Malfoy, this wouldn't be you cuddling, now, would it?" she teased.
He scoffed, "I do not cuddle, Granger..." he paused, "But keep doing that thing with your hand in my hair... I find I quite enjoy it..."
She smiled warmly and continued caressing him. Within minutes she heard his soft snoring as she felt the tension in his body completely unwind beside her.
She watched him sleep, his breathing even and shallow, his long blonde eyelashes fluttering against his high cheekbones as he dreamed.
Her achingly beautiful man.
"I am so in love with you, Draco Lucius Malfoy," she whispered against his forehead. He stirred against her then but, thankfully, his eyes remained close.
What she would give to stay like this with him forever.
Too wired to sleep, she closed her eyes, concentrating on the rise and fall of his chest, the steady movement lulling her sore body and overactive mind to finally rest.
At long last, she felt at peace... It was as if nothing could harm either of them now they had each other.
As soon as that thought escaped her overactive brain, she wanted to take it back. Fate was most assuredly a bitch.
Because that's when she heard it - the familiar sound of her Floo roaring to life with a distinct whoosh. In all the activity, she had forgotten to close the network. Rookie mistake, Granger... she chided herself.
There was a thud, followed by a low murmur of a string of curses. Somewhere in the flat, Crookshanks hissed.
She extricated one hand from around Draco and fumbled with the items on her nightstand. Fucking hell! Her wand! She left it on the kitchen counter.
Hermione's heart dropped into the pit of her stomach. Don't panic… don't panic… don't panic… She took a deep breath, in through the nose and out the mouth.
Slowly, so as not to disturb the man softly snoring beside her, she disentangled herself from Draco and climbed from the bed. She quickly pulled on a pair of shorts before slinking out into the hallway, quietly shutting the door to the bedroom.
She paused to take a deep breath and dug deep for that Gryffindor bravery she was so often associated with. She knew it wouldn't do to show fear, so steeling her nerves, she stepped out into the living room and immediately met the gaze of her would-be intruder.
Ron Weasley, reeking of alcohol and looking like something her cat dragged in, gave her a crooked grin and offered her a beat to hell present wrapped in what appeared to be old Prophet newspapers.
"Hey there, 'Mione. You didn't think I'd forget your birthday, did you?"
