DISCLAIMER: The storyline, new characters, and character development is mine. JKR owns her characters
She is Mine
"Did you drink the water they gave us next?" He hoped that she did.
Hermione paled, "Why?"
"Mrs. Smarty you were tricked just like I. For your info, I also spit the first potion and drank the water before I noticed the cloudiness. A tasteless, odorless, and long effect potion." His smile was even more unsettling.
"Oh, no." That was all she said.
Good, she believed him, he was scot-free to do what he wanted. It wouldn't be 'his fault,' it would be the potion's.
The lust clouded his reasoning. Before she could react, he was by her side. He'd nearly climbed on the table to grab her foot, "Such tiny toes," he bent and licked one by one, just like he wanted to do earlier.
Better kneel, he thought, and did precisely that. He threw a pillow and positioned his body between her legs, not letting go of her foot. It was his. He resumed his quest.
She merely watched him in horrified fascination. His licks were going from her toes to in between her thighs.
His mouth continued its path along her toned calf. His tongue tingled going over the mark along her calf. He was so hard that it hurt. His breath was loud, not that he cared.
"What is this," he stopped and pointed at the mark or was it a magic tattoo?
"Birthmark." She answered much too fast.
He noticed her voice changing, aha, she'd lied. He could see and sense a power of some sort. Who cared? He shrugged a shoulder. Later, not now, he was busy.
His eyes rolled to the back of his head with the next lick. Gods this tiny witch tastes delicious. She wore a candied lotion that tasted of cherries, the farther that his hand and tongue went up on her leg, the more that he could smell, what? Whatever it was, made his cock jump. His breath was loud and uneven; he wanted more.
He moved closer to her and raised her Muggle robe, not a robe, a clingy soft fabric. She closed her eyes. Her hands, involuntarily, wanted to touch him, so she caressed his head. His now longer hair was silky, the hands moved over his neck.
Damn what soft hands! He thought he wanted to tell her, but no, not now, why alert her, she might stop. He was a snake and knew better, don't alert the prey.
His tongue neared her knickers; both were breathing hard, "Ah, it is you!"
"Me what?" Her voice throaty and hitched.
The alluringly sinful scent, silly. He licked up her inner thigh; tremors ran up her leg, his hand moved up. He wanted to see. A shudder ran along his torso.
She froze when he pushed the knickers aside and lifted his head.
He looked at her, there, licking his bottom lip, "No hair?" His nose flared, he wanted inside more than anything else, ever. Between her scent and all his engaged senses, he was not doing well. So…
"Trim is cleaner...wax and trimming, don't you know?"
He didn't get it. His fingers touched gently; he was in awe at what he saw, "You're so pretty. Pictures are not the same." He bent to lick her folds, to open them with his tongue. His sounds of need filled the room.
Bloody hell, so sweet. His finger searched and found the entrance, "May I? " but he wasn't asking.
Her hips lifted when his finger moved a little deeper. He hissed.
"Oh, you are untouched. I thought you and them?" He liked it, only his, she'd only be his. He was trying not to smile.
"No."
"No?"
He stood up, he wanted more, couldn't wait. He was damned lucky, so why was he fighting it? She was his, his.
"Come with me, here," he picked her up easily, he had grown as tall as Lucius. He was gentle when he lifted her on his arms.
Her mind was cloudy the lust not relenting. This was wrong.
"No, please put me down, this is wrong. No, I cannot."
'Yes, I must; it is all I want, c'mon witch, my wife." He nuzzled her neck.
"You smell like heaven," Draco wasn't lying, she was heaven to him.
"It's wrong; I cannot think" she liked being held in his arms.
"We are married, it isn't wrong."
He wanted her; he had kissed Astoria a few times, it wasn't bad but, she really was hesitant, rather cold.
He lowered his face and looked at her lips. She wasn't hesitant, not this witch. Her arms went around his neck, and she pulled up to him, seeing her lips so close he first moved his lips over hers. When she opened her lips a little, he wanted to taste her, he pushed his tongue in her mouth, and his legs nearly buckled, no not ugly delicious. His to kiss, his.
"Taste good, not…" He knew not to insult her. Finally, they were in the room. He entered, placed her on the large bed and dove on top of her.
He pressed his erection into her. That felt good. She was his wife; this was what he wanted, he did.
"Witch do you want this I don't want to force you," he didn't, she'd never forgotten it.
Somewhere else
Hermione's cousin Wilbur had received an owl. He kept one just to be in touch with her. It was from Bill Weasley, her partner.
He read it, 'This is the first chance I have to write, we're under surveillance, last night…" He looked at the time. "Holly…nooo." His uncle was not going to be happy. He changed clothes to reflect his status, moved his hand over his face and stood in front of the wall.
He tapped the cylinder on his wrist pointed at the wall, and a door appeared. He grimaced and stepped forwards. Others like him bowed as he went by. He knocked at his uncle's door. It opened, "Sir..."
A booming, angry sound shook the walls and made everyone worried. They all hoped nothing else had happened.
A/N Draco is doing what?