A/N: Might take another two chapters to wrap up the mini-plot with the case I decided to get far too detailed with.
Lots of smut here!
Enjoy!
Part 4
Hermione waited impatiently in her flat. Would Draco actually come? Would he leave her hanging? Was this a ploy to humiliate her?
No.
He's not that person anymore.
She fidgeted with a glass of water in her hand as she sat on a stool in her kitchen. Should she wait for him on the couch? Should she strip? Gods what was happening to her? There was such an underlying implication to having sex with him and she was second guessing her decision. He'd already done that to her, so decency was out the window.
You've already heeded to him, Hermione.
She had.
There was an unspoken easiness to him and a docility to their good-humored liaison. They were a force intellectually, and the last year working together had proven that.
Just over an hour ago in your office had proven more.
She really needed to learn how to shut her brain off.
She decided a quick shower to freshen up might ease her disquieted bustle. The dampness between her legs left an uncomfortable stickiness and she'd had no choice but to suffer through it while speaking with Ron. It had been mildly difficult to concentrate. Her body had been wonderfully assaulted and not given ample time to recover.
Having Ron in her office not even an inch from where Draco had her spread out like a banquet of cuisine didn't make it any better, either. She even wondered if he could smell what they'd just done.
The thick energy and stiff greeting had been quickly un-inundated when Ron explained he needed her help. He said that he'd read about the case with Nimisera. Right away, Hermione had grown leery with his interest in the case. It had nothing to do with him
Until it did.
With a cherry bright face, Ron confided that he and Trisha had taken a brief break. They'd hit a rough patch months prior to their engagement, and after a night of sorrow mixed ale at a local pub, he admitted to a romp with Moira Selwyn.
Moira had been pregnant.
Ron made it clear that it was not his child. He told Trisha what he had done and she surprisingly forgave him and accompanied him to take a magical paternity test to prove his innocence.
He asked Hermione to help keep his association with the Selwyns private.
Hermione knew that Moira's pregnancy was motive to kill. If it wasn't Rons, as he claimed, that meant it belonged to someone else if Moira's infidelity extended beyond Ron.
But, there was a sore stubbornness she still felt toward him and couldn't help but ask him why she should help him with anything.
He knew she owed him nothing and told her he expected her response. He was candid in how he hated himself for hurting her and wanted to reach out. But, as small as she looked, she was—in his words—frightening.
They laughed.
She could be quite terrifying when she wanted, when properly provoked. And she'd be lying if she wouldn't have cursed him a time or two had he approached her in the earlier stages post-breakup. He expressed his regret on how he handled everything with her. Apparently, Molly never failed to remind him, either.
Her heart clenched at the mention of Molly, even when she laughed again. In that moment with a coy grin on her face, and where the corner of Rons eyes curbed with a lopsided, dopey expression, she found what she missed. The familiarity of it. As friends. As family.
Unfastening her quill, Hermione had agreed to help Ron. She asked him to divulge anything that could possibly help their case, down to anything she may have mentioned the night they were together. By the end, she had an entire piece of parchment paper filled with her penmanship.
As she walked him out, Ron had caught her off guard with a hug. He told her he was proud of her and that despite the circumstances, he never stopped caring for her.
Neither had she. She stopped loving Ron long ago. Reconciling their friendship was all she could truly ask for.
With a final goodbye, he suggested she come to the Burrow for dinner sometime.
Once he was gone, Hermione was left with a dogmatic spirit of optimism.
And the first person who came to mind was Draco.
Suffice to say, it was probably one of the most successful meetings to date.
Hermione twisted the knob on the shower and the steaming sputtering drops of water ebbed away along with her thoughts. She stepped out to wrap a fluffy white towel around her body and swiped the fog covered mirror to check her reflection before heading out.
Her body collided with a solid figure in the hallway and for a split second, she was confused as to who had entered her flat. She instinctively tightened her hold on the towel. Before Hermione could speak, Draco bent down and lifted her from the place where her thighs and bum met, and carried her into her bedroom
"Draco!" She giggled, hands clutched over his strong shoulders, legs waving in the air.
He tossed her onto the bed like a limp rag doll. She fell with a squeak and bit her lip in response to his rough handling of her. It shot a spark to her lower abdomen.
The weight of Draco's body over hers was all-consuming as he crawled up her lithe form and kissed her. It was slow, warm, sweet. She sighed into him as her hands crept around his shoulders to clasp around the back of his neck.
"Citrus clean just for me," He broke their kiss and connected their foreheads. Her browns flitted between his greyed blues. "I apologize for my tardiness. I hope you weren't waiting long."
"I wasn't," She smiled. He was so lovely from where she laid. "Just a bit anxious."
It was still all too surreal for her. Too fast. Too sudden. What if this was a mistake? What if she was in over her head? This was Draco Malfoy.
This is Draco Malfoy.
He graced her with the arc of his brow. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable."
"I am—I mean—you're not—I thought we would never—after Hogwarts and—what we did—" This wasn't the time but her mind wouldn't rest. She chewed on her lip. "I'm a spluttering mess."
Draco brought a thumb to release it from her worrying teeth. "I sometimes still think about it. How awful of a little shit I was. With Potter, you, the weasel. I can't remember what I hated so much, why I hated you. It's like when someone dies, and as the years go on, you can't even remember what that person sounded like. Just a faint reprieve of memories."
"I don't expect an airing of grievances from you. We were so young…"
"But you deserve it. You deserve so much more, Granger."
Did she care about the past? Did it still haunt her? No more than the war, which would periodically plague her dreams. It was a rare occurrence but when it happened, she'd wash her face with a splash of ice cold water and move on. She'd forgiven him so long ago, made peace with the upheaval that followed the conclusion of the war. She supposed her attitude toward him the past year was simply a defense mechanism, a barrier to all she knew him for.
Hermione slid a dainty hand to his jaw. He tilted into her touch instinctively. She felt it twitch.
"I forgive you, Draco. I forgive you for the poncier parts of you."
He laughed and smiled, a soft one, "Leave it to you to be absolutely…sublime."
Hermione wet her lips, her eyes flitting between his. "I know. I admit, I may have spent far too much time wondering if this conversation would ever come to fruition."
"I imagine. We'll work on that big brain," He nuzzled her nose with an affectionate desire. "But right now, I need to make you mine."
Draco pecked her on the lips, then kissed her jaw, down her sensitive nape, and right up to the hem of the towel concealing her nudity. His teeth came out like fangs and latched onto the only barrier jacketing her before he unfurled it off her body.
Her worries seemed to fade away with the fluid feel of his mouth and hands all over her.
He left a trail of his froth when he licked straight down between the valley of her breasts and tended to the smooth planes of her stomach. She squirmed as his tongue and lips slithered with praise over her hips. She could feel the effusion of her libido spilling out as he leaned back on his haunches, nudged open her thighs, and grazed his teeth over her right leg.
He started with her ankle, leg bent and taut for him. She keened, a lingering gaze on her as his mouth moved up to her calf and took a teasing bite before switching to her left leg and revering the smooth limb with the same attention.
"You're," Draco gnawed at her thighs as he snaked closer up. "Exquisite." Her back arched off the bed as he playfully nipped the hooded lips at the apex of her thighs.
He leaned forward, prepared to taste her for a second time that day but Hermione wanted to feel closer. She dragged him up to her and snogged him like her life depended on it.
In no time, Hermione worked away his clothes until the only electric current coursing the room was from the lascivious friction of their bare bodies. Draco squeezed himself while he slid the warm tip teasingly over her clit. He watched her hotly, mewling pleadingly for him to fill her.
Hermione couldn't take his salacious, simpering grin any longer. With all her strength, she pushed Draco onto his back and climbed him like she'd never ascend higher. With a desperate grip of his cock, she aligned herself and sunk down.
They both hissed in relief at the finality of the feeling. It was easy to get lost, let go with him.
Draco guided her movements loosely, hands gripped along her hips while she fell forward until their faces touched. Her free palm found the fabric on her mattress beside his head as the other admired the panes of his abdomen and chest.
She hummed when her mouth found his again, teeth clashing, tongues toying, while her body danced in a a wave-like motion on him.
He abandoned her mouth to spread the love over her breasts, which fell just below his chin for convenient access because of her angle. His tongue flicked and sucked her nipples the way he treated her cunt and it fired a primal ripple in the way her back curved and her hips writhed.
"Mmmm, Draco, please, like that."
Her eyes shut to let the assaulting sensations permeate the the thrill in the air. The slant of his cock filling her, splitting her from beneath was unreal and she sped up her movements.
She rode him deep and steady.
"Fuck me harder." Draco grunted, two hands seizing the plump cheeks of her arse roughly, creating a slapping rhythm that met his thighs at each press. She could hear him slowly losing control, his pants becoming harsher, jaw growing more tense with each thrust. To see him, to hear him fogged her mind and exacerbated the heat gradually bubbling below.
Her body quaked with a building tempo. Draco appeared impressed with her vocal capabilities and moved his fingers to her clit. One arm completely encircled her while she clung to him, and sang a litany of praises against his ear. He played the sensitive bundle of nerves like a tuned fiddle until she started trembling with a series of stuttering breaths.
"Come Hermione. Come for me-"
It was euphoric. The rumble of his deep command tied itself to the burning, satisfyingly turbulent orgasm. He had ignited her with skilled fingers that rubbed her fast as she bounced wantonly on his cock. The angle, the rubbing, the sweat, the juices they spilled, the way his cock contracted after pumping so ruthlessly sullied her into a narcotic like sedation.
It was a raging storm of limbs tangling as they fell back onto the bed together. Draco's light, tapered ministrations caring for her, thanking her, adoring her before sliding out of her.
They huddled under the bedsheets, laying on their sides, face-to-face. When their uneven breaths tempered, Hermione broke the silence with a disbelieving laugh. The aftermath of voltaic soul-shattering sex washed over her.
Draco watched her with an incredulous expression. It didn't last long before he also broke into a fit of delirious laughter with her. She swung her leg over his, tying them closer together, and she held his face gently.
"I don't think I've ever experienced anything like that." Said Hermione as she kissed his forehead.
He responded to her with kisses to her cheeks and then her nose and brushed away some of her sweat ridden hair. "I've never been with a woman like you."
Her heart contracted and Hermione dusted his nose playfully, both relishing in each others warmth.
Time became a trivial concept. They didn't count for how long, because they laid there, in a smother of feather light caresses and emotive gazes of what words could never express.
Hermione watched him. Draco touched her. Until sleep took them exactly where they wanted to be.
With each other.
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"The prosecution has leaked gossip to the press in order to terrorize the defendant and poison the Wizengamot by inciting prejudice uprising against magical creatures. I call for an immediate gag order!"
Draco wasted no time. Hermione sat in her usual spot in the dusky courtroom. She felt herself pulling her robes tightly against her to protect her from the unusual crisp chill. Kingsley called for an emergency reunion as a result of her written gag-order. It was now in the hands of Draco to properly present his argument before Kingsley inevitably passed it.
"Officer Malfoy is speculating, Minister. He can make all the wild allegations he wants to make himself feel better about not having a sufficient defense, but my office had nothing to do with this." Pritchard defended lamely.
"Really?" Draco promptly snapped open the newspaper in his hand. "Nimisera was under the influence of Baruffio's Brain Elixir, an unregulated magical narcotic, the same night Ritty was murdered. She claims to have gotten into an altercation with her lover over his close relationship with Moira Selwyn. Autopsy initial reports found traces of this same Elixir in Ritty's blood stream. This gives weight to the prosecutions theory that Nimisera may have drugged Ritty before murdering him due to an alleged inappropriate relationship with his former overlord. With this evidence, this is beginning to look more and more like a love story gone tragically awry, and, at the expense of one of the finest families in magical society." He shut the paper, content he made his point. "Thats a direct quote from the 'handler in discovery.'"
Hermione bit the inside of her cheek. She'd have a chat with Skeeter about that misguided quote. It was all false. A vial of the elixir was only found at the crime scene. There was no evidence it had been consumed by anyone. It was a semi-clever admission since it couldn't actually jeopardize the case.
Not clever enough, though. It was obvious the intentions were to suggest public supposition.
"There are a dozen handlers in discovery on both ends." Counsellor Pritchard shrugged. "How do we know someone in the Wizengamot isn't behind it?"
From the corner of her eye, Hermione caught the smirk of a man who sat high-nosed on the prosecutions side of the benches: Wesley Selwyn, the man who hired Pritchard to challenge the Auror offices and prosecute their own suspect. The man who was supposedly distraught over his son and daughter-in-laws death. The man who had remained quiet and unquestioned the entirety of every show-down. The man she nor Draco trusted
"Those are offensive accusations, Minister!" A voice announced. Hermione shot her head back to examine the source of the proclamation. It belonged to a lanky man with a red beard longer than Dumbledores ever was. He wore dark violet robes and a large chain with a W hanging around his neck. He was a member of the Wizengamot.
Hermione frowned, a suspicious cloud curdling in her mind. It gave weight to the ever-soaring theories of corruption.
Draco had been fastidiously correct. This case needed to set a precedent.
Kingsley acknowledged the Wizengamot members' concern. "Counsellor Pritchard, releasing confidential information by the highest council of servants in Wizarding Britain is grounds for immediate termination and a mandatory ten years in Azkabans Civil Obstruction Penitentiary. You cannot make those claims on grounds of speculation."
"I meant no real umbrage, Minister. I was simply defending Mister Malfoy's juvenile accusations of me, demanding a silly gag order."
Draco snorted with an incredulous expression. "There have been nine stories printed with photos and lies of the defendant smeared all over the tabloids! Are we to believe this isn't your doing?"
He was handsome when intellectually maddened. She was almost ashamed that seeing him like this aroused her.
Almost.
Pritchard looked at Shacklebolt, an attempt to garner his sympathy. "I don't have editorial authority over the Daily Prophet."
"Minister, it doesn't matter who leaked the information." Draco disregarded Pritchards contempt. Hermione knew he decided it wasn't worth arguing with the man. "Society vilifies women, especially non-human, in these scenarios."
"Enough grandstanding." Kingsley huffed fiercely. "My Head of DMLE will conduct a thorough investigation on exactly how this information got out. Public penchant for this trial could result in undue bias, therefore I am granting the gag order. Every person involved in this case is proscribed from speaking to the press."
Kingsley was just about to dismiss the reunion until Draco took the opportunity to cock back the loaded weapon.
"Actually Minister, there is a motion I'd like to request. It is time-sensitive to the upcoming trial." Draco waved a set of documents. Hermione smiled. She knew what he was presenting. It was apart of their plan and seeing him in action filled her with pride.
He'd been filling her in different ways in recent weeks, too but that was merely an after thought the ghost of his libidinous pleasure left between her legs. She never stopped feeling him on her.
"This is a hearing for a gag-order, Minister." Pritchard objected with an irritated snarl.
"I don't see an issue if we're already here. Go on, Officer Malfoy."
"One of my Aurors reviewed the magical forensic autopsy reports and discovered a tumefied lesion resting in Mrs. Selwyn uterus." Draco had both Corner and Moon distribute the documentation to Kingsley and the Prosecution. "It seems it was overlooked as a natural consequence of the crucio curse. But, after taking a closer look, we believe Moira may have been pregnant."
Pritchard analyzed the documents and shook his head furiously. "I thought this case was about a deceased elf whom murdered another elf. What is the motion again?"
"Statistics have proven a victims killer is usually someone you know. An acquaintance, a friend, a family member, a lover. If we wrongfully sentence an elf to death, that will create distrust and leave us susceptible to our methods being attacked and criticized for not considering other suspects." Draco's eyes walked over the members of the prosecution before landing on Pritchard. Although his tone was reprimanding, his volume remained balanced and meticulous. "We move to exhume Moira Selwyns body. We believe a second autopsy will point to proving the defendant is innocent of all crimes she has been accused of." His gaze moved to Hermione momentarily from the corner of his eye. "We will run Magical DNA tests on the unborn fetus. If there is no match to Ritty or her husband, we will require all of the men in Moira Selwyns life to submit to DNA testing. The prosecution will be forced to accept other suspects for justice. If that's what they're truly after."
"Officer Malfoy is making outlandish remarks in order to fuel liberal vitriol about my conation—
"What did I say about this grandstanding, Counsellor Pritchard?" Kingsley halted the man in his tracks. "You will have all the time in the world to righteously contend at the next hearing. I'm granting your motion, Officer Malfoy. Report to your superior when that's done and make sure the prosecution is up to speed. I'll have no more of this contempt in my courtroom. Court is adjourned."
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"Oh Gods-" Hermione's head dropped back against Draco's shoulder. Her visit to his office had been intended to deliver urgent findings that would benefit the ongoing case that Kingsley had been delaying all month long.
Amongst their growing familiarity, obvious attraction, and over five hours of zero contact, she somehow ended up on Draco's side of the desk, in his lap, slotted back-first against his chest as she rode him.
He had her legs pinned wide, gripping the back of her knees, while his pulsing cock pumped in and out of her. A hand moved to her waist, assisting in the rhythmic slap of her arse against his muscled thigh as she pounded his cock repeatedly. He shuffled between her waist and breast, indecisive on where his explorative hands wanted to remain. He wanted all of it, all of her at once.
"I can't come until you do," He growled in her ear. "Milk me of everything I have."
God, his mouth was enticing and Hermione hated that she loved every inch of it. He encouraged her to pounce down harder on him while he edged himself to straighten his spine so that he could comfortably snake an arm around and flick her clit the way she loved.
She gasped in surprise when his fingers flattened over the exposed bud with a swift slap. The sting was mild but erotic, and she was curious for more. Draco came down on her clit once more with a full palmed slap and she almost screamed. Draco muffled her with his free hand, covering her mouth roughly.
"Shhhh. Your sweet melodies are for my ears only."
Hermione cried into his large hand, entranced with his dominance. Had they forgotten to silence the room this time?
She didn't care.
Another savory slap of his hand came down over her raw mound, gradually repeating the frequency of it until it turned into soppy firm smacks. Her senses were in overdrive while his thick member plunged deep into her channel as he continued stimulating her clit with loud, tangy taps.
With champagne eyes glued to the ceiling, he thrusted harder, she climbed higher, and he tapped faster. She focused on the feeling; the jiggle of her breasts when he hit her with a crazed vigor, the possessive growl in his throat that had her tongue darting out to lick the sweet and salty palm of his hand which caged her girlish whimpers.
A stuttered choke escaped her, eyes rolling to the back of her head. Her body stilled momentarily before her back bowed hard as the intense orgasm washed over her. Draco didn't last long after her muscles swallowed him whole. He toyed with her sensitive clit, the place where their bodies meshed, messy and wet with their carnal residue.
Just as she regained some of her composure, Draco slipped out of her and started to strum her over-sensitive bundle of nerves again, rubbing her profusely. She just finished and wasn't sure if she had another one in her.
"You do," Draco rasped in her ear, pulling her back against him as if reading her mind. "I need one more from you, for me. I want you to remember who this belongs to. Who fucks you as hard as I do. Who can play with this cunt as deliciously as I do."
That was it for her. She writhed and convulsed under his touch so hard, her legs clamped closed on his hand while he held her down firmly. Her nails gnawed at his knuckles to push him away, but he refused to relent his ministrations. She shut her eyes until he decided she'd had enough, and she brought herself back down.
Her legs gave in and she twisted her body slightly to kiss him. He massaged her limp body sweetly while she thanked him with her lips, submitted to him until they found the will to finally stand, dress quickly, and cast a scourgify.
"That can't happen again." Hermione pulled her curly hair into a simple half up ponytail. "We wait until we're at my flat."
"You say that every time."
Hermione dropped her arms and smoothed over her figure to ensure she was as groomed as she appeared before entering his office.
"It's my guilt. I'm…I could get in serious trouble."
"You like trouble," He yanked her body to his body and trapped her between himself and his desk. He slipped his tongue into her mouth. "There is no written prohibition of relationships within the ministry."
"I still feel uncomfortable with the power dynamic." She whispered softly.
Draco smirked. She could see a steep-sided dolt of curious marvel in his eyes before he spoke. "I don't intend to work here forever."
"I'm not firing you."
"I know."
Her face fell. The admission made her heart drop. The possibility of not seeing Draco at the same frequency one day stirred a disappointment that she needed to condition herself away from. They weren't even….were they together?
"Stop thinking," He chuckled, caressing her cheek. "I'll respect your wishes. From now on, we wait until we're at your flat. I'd never do anything to jeopardize your career."
Why did he have to look at her that way?
"And what about your career?" She gave him a curious look, placing her palm over his hand that held her face.
"Malfoy's don't need careers." His lip curled, even though there was a seriousness to him. "My serving here has been restitution. Making amends for the damage caused due to the war."
She pressed her lips into a straight line and lifted another hand to wipe the crowding of sweat at his hairline.
He kissed her again.
"And to clean up the family name." Draco pulled away from her lips. "I'm the sole heir to the Malfoy estate. It's my duty to carry on a legacy that my children and future generations will be proud of. I am a Slytherin after all."
"Self-preserving, yes." He never failed to amuse her. "Your family has managed to keep a low-profile in the last years. I think the work you've done has contributed to that. You're doing so well here." It came out as a compliment, although she could almost taste the pleading tone she tried to omit. "I'll support your endeavors, whether that's staying at the Ministry or…doing whatever it is Malfoy heirs do."
Draco offered her a genuine laugh. It was magnetic. He released her face and took hold of her hand over his, sweeping it with a tender kiss. "Your blessing is all I need."
A blush crept around her neck, "Here." She turned to pick up the folder that had been lost on the floor at some point.
"What's this?" He accepted the leaflet of documents.
"What I initially came for."
"Hm." He chuckled darkly at the double entendre.
"I scribed everything Ron could tell me about that night with Moira. I forgot all about it. There might be something there that can help you narrow down a viable suspect."
"You've been sitting on this for weeks and now is when you're presenting this to me?"
"Actually, I've been sitting on your face for weeks while convincing Rita Skeeter to testify for you." Hermione watched his eyes gloss over a dark shade. She could see him replaying some of those moments like a pensieve. She knew she needed to pedal away quickly before she let his darker desires get the better of her. "She's agreed to do so. She was at the pub the same night Ron and Moira met. I may have requested she leave out that detail when testifying."
Draco's expression was deliberately aloof. "Breaking the law for the weasel."
"It's not going to impact the case." He knew that bit didn't matter so she didn't understand what the need was for his comment. Adding yet another innocent suspect would only help the prosecution. "Skeeter also informed me that she was tipped off on the case via an anonymous owl. She provided me with the letter sent to her. It was doused in an unidentified dark magic. I was able to get past some of its more susceptible barriers and have your team do a forensic analysis on it. The results showed there were traces of owl saliva belonging to the Eurasian eagle owl."
Draco stared at her. "There are only two magical families in possession of the largest owl species; my family being one of them."
"And the Selwyns," Hermione confirmed. She inhaled deeply. "I…have to ask."
"No. It's not my owl. If you'd like to cross reference DNA, you're free to do so." His tone was facile, understanding almost.
"I believe you. For the sake of being thorough and doing my job, I just needed to ask. I trust you." She looped a finger into the belt at his trousers. She really didn't want to offend him. She did have a considerable amount of confidence in him. "I trust you'll use this information to your advantage?"
Draco perked a brow and nodded as if it weren't obvious his mind had already begun concocting a slew of ideas. Swiping a finger to his tongue before flipping to the next page, he says, "It says here that Moira told Ron to run away with her because she was scared of someone. How could you let this collect dust for so long?"
Hermione shrugged. "They were drunk. People say all sorts of things when they're intoxicated. I was more focused on the detail that she was pregnant before she died."
"Yes." He drawled. "It could also be something we can look into." Draco's forehead coiled in thought. "I'll send Corner and Moon to look into her relationships with family, friends, acquaintances. Nimisera oddly enough only had good things to say about her former Masters—other than what she's claimed about Moira."
"I noticed during the trial." Hermione thought back to Nimiseras sudden change in demeanor when questioned about Ritty. Something about her downcast eyes was versant. She couldn't quite yet figure out why.
"It could be a response to trauma. House-elves have hardly been treated well." Draco wagered. "I've witnessed first hand what punishments Masters have bestowed, usually for the pettiest of reasons."
"Maybe." Hermione bit her lip and looked at the embellished clock on Draco's wrist. "I must go. I'm operating an escalated issue that requires disciplinary action. It's for the Office for the Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective Objects."
Hermione gave him a peck and was preparing to move away from him but he'd long placed the folder on his desk behind her and took hold of her small waist.
"Wait." He coaxed almost viscidly. It was mushy-like and made her feel fuzzy. "I'm still cooking dinner for you tonight. If you have any requests, now would be the time."
"Oh—I—Draco, I—I agreed to drinks with Ginny and Trisha tonight. We're meeting at a restaurant so, I'll probably dine there." Hermione caught the flicker of his expression from doe-eyed to deadlock. She'd agreed to plans with Draco first. She felt awful for being so forgetful. "I double booked. This is my fault. I'll owl Ginny. She'll underst—"
"No. Go, have fun. You need this. It'll be good for you." His visage softened. "There'll be other nights for us. I was getting greedy, having you all to myself for four weeks straight."
Hermione smiled softly and curled her finger around his tie. "I'll make it up to you."
He gripped her arse as their mouths connected, sharing a slow snog in which Hermione lead with an impressive control. She hoped it left him feeling as weak as he left her.
"How am I to resist devouring you when you kiss me like that?" Draco whispered.
She giggled. "You'll just have to be patient."
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Hermione trampled through the front door of her dark flat. A wave of gloom struck her when she realized she'd be spending her first night in weeks without him. She'd grown accustomed to the panes of his body, the clench of his protective embrace beneath the warmth of her quilts. The absence of not waking up to him, to the beams of the sun reflecting off his perfectly angled cheekbones tugged at her heartstrings. He would always be up before her. His clear gray-blues would be the first thing she lost herself in when she opened her sleep ridden eyes.
She sighed.
How could something that was meant to be wrong feel so right?
She supposed it was convenient she'd had a few drinks with Ginny and Trisha. It was just enough to leave her feeling a comfortable buzz that would doze her into a pleasant slumber for the night without her thoughts plaguing it. She removed her robes and shoes, and walked over to her window. She pried it open to grab the small pile of letters toppling, closed it, and tossed them onto the hearth. She'd worry about those tomorrow.
As she walked toward the hallway, a dimly lit candle and dark silhouette on her settee sofa caught her attention.
Draco.
He'd waited up. In her flat.
For her.
Even though she'd ruined their plans. He had been so eager to make her a home cooked meal and tonight was supposed to be the night he'd woo her even more with another one of his many hidden talents only she was privy to.
"Did you enjoy yourself?"
She kept her bare feet planted. "Yes. It was delightful, actually. I don't remember the last time I laughed so hard." Hermione paced a few steps forward, enough to get a better view of him. He was reclined cozily in loungewear. The loose material of his pants hung fixedly over his muscular thighs which were spread open in a comfortable position.
"I'm happy to hear. You look happier." He slowly shut the book Hermione hadn't realized he had been reading.
Her eyes trailed over the thickness of his hamstring, up his chest, until they landed steadily on his face. His profile was shadowed by the white rays of the moon as she inched closer to him.
"I'm happier coming home to you..." She moved until her knees were slotted at the edge of the couch between his spread knees, allowing closer contact. She felt warm.
"I came by to feed Crookshanks and make sure he didn't lock himself in the bathroom again. Don't worry, no marks on the back of the door," He grinned. Draco set the book down next to the burning candle on the coffee table. He relaxed forward, leaning elbows on knees, looking at her. "I couldn't find it in me to leave."
I've been a patient man. And I'm not a very patient man.
"It's the draperies. They make this place…irresistible." Hermione said with a ginger jape. Her own hands braced his shoulders, lungs filling and deflating.
"Fine choice of words," His blue-grey eyes darkened, staring straight ahead, fixed on her abdomen, as if he could see right through her shirt. His fingers found either side of her waist, sliding down her polyester pants. She stepped out of them and he placed both hands at the tops of her thighs.
"You look tired." Her voice trembled. How many times had they gotten intimate and he still left her nearly breathless at the scrum of his touch?
"I had trouble falling asleep," His thumbs hooked under the hem of her lace knickers. They grazed there, eyes narrowing slightly, almost debating. "I have a better chance at getting some rest now that you're here…" Inch by inch, he slid them down her legs and flung the wet fabric elsewhere.
She focused on keeping her breath steady while he undressed the rest of her slowly, fingers gliding along her burning skin after her clothes. Hermione was on edge; his motions ignited tiny sparks along her skin that traveled to her centre. He skimmed her arse with such a light tenderness, she couldn't help the escape of a pleading noise escape her.
His forehead fell against her bare stomach, his breath a warm tickle. "I'm in the mood for a midnight snack."
Then, she felt his lips kiss her there, the most sacred of places, still standing before him. Her head tipped back, fingers clinging to the silk of his blonde locks.
Hermione scraped her bottom lip between her teeth. "Like that," She moaned. "I love when you do that."
He hummed at the praise. He wouldn't stop puckering his lips, creating the most obscene suckling noises. She wanted him to add his tongue, but he was determined to wind her up with those tantalizing lips.
"Your petal smells wonderful," He closed his mouth over her swollen nub with another suck. "Tastes even better."
Gods, she was dripping for him. She could fuck his face for a lifetime and never get tired of it. Never get tired of how he woke her nerves, brought them to life.
He planted a few more sloppy kisses over her clit before she helped him lift his shirt over his head. He supported her as he laid her down on her side. He removed his bottoms and slithered behind her on the sofa. Sprinkling her neck with desperate kisses, he hooked her leg behind his thigh before sinking into her wet fissure.
Strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her back against a warm hard chest. He maintained a slow tango, his thrusts long, hard, and intentional while a hand curled under her to tweak her nipples, tease her pert breasts with a decompressing massage.
Hermione whimpered as her hips ground back to meet his pulsing cock. It was an incredible, deep, thorough penetration. He kissed and nipped her neck, her cheek, and swore so hotly in her ear, it vibrated through her like a gong.
"Yesssss. Touch me, please."
He obeyed her pleas with a hungry gruff. His arm abandoned its grip on her abdomen and dove into the waters of her silky cunt. It was exactly the added pleasure she needed from his deft fingers. He worked her body skillfully, and she was ready for the coil to spring and take her to that place only he had been able to.
"I want to make you come with my mouth, then fuck you hard." He hissed, pulling out suddenly, and rolling her onto her back. He spread her wide and pushed her knees up to her chest, his eyes devouring the exposed flesh before dropping forward and attacking the nerves once again.
"Draco!" She screeched when he flitted his tongue fast, diving into the hooded corners of her vulva. He sipped, suckled, nipped, and jerked his head in a side to side motion. Hermione could barely see the work of art he painted on her cunt. His firm hold kept her legs pressed back and away, and all she could see through the haze of her impending release was a head of platinum hair and glimmering eyes.
She gave up trying to admire the exhibit, and dropped her head back. She reached for the arm of the couch and clung to it. She allowed herself to get lost in his mouth that preyed on her like a famished man.
"I'm so close." Her voice was rickety and low. She was becoming strangled by the lust, her body in the beginning quivers of her impending climax.
His mouth suctioned over her clit like a vacuum. She felt him stretching the tender flesh until the pressure of it all pushed her over the edge and her jaw fell open in a silent scream. In the blink of an eye, Draco propelled himself up, placed her legs on either side of his shoulders, and filled her again. Her orgasm had just begun and he wanted to fuck her in the middle of coming.
The feeling was ethereal. He dropped his weight forward to capture her lips and swallow her moans. It was almost uncomfortable, her body bent so deeply back. But, the pleasure over doused any pain. Her muscles wouldn't stop clamping his cock and it spurred the speed of his hips. He was clinging to whatever remaining control he had, his tightening balls indicating he was losing the battle.
And he did.
He grunted loud and harsh when he spilled inside of her. Her own orgasm still wracking her.
Finishing together was a stifling intimacy she never thought she'd experience. Not to this magnitude.
She didn't think she'd ever get enough of it.
He carried her bridal-style to her bedroom and they dozed off together. It was yet another night he spent with her.
She had heeded to him. .
