Chapter 34

It took longer than they'd thought to get Draco checked out of St Mungo's. The mediwizards had to fuss about his potions. He had to make all kinds of promises to the Healer overseeing his case that he would take every single one of those potions. And of course, there ended up being a lot of paperwork releasing the hospital from liability if he just keeled over and died from blood loss.

By the time they were ready to go, it was evening and neither of them had any desire to cook anything. Instead, they went to a Muggle restaurant in Hermione's neighborhood for a quick dinner, before heading back to Hermione's flat.

Hermione had decided that since she was responsible for Draco's safety and his health, that she could manage his condition best from her own home base, where she had the best resources.

It didn't seem to matter that her entire role was simply administering diagnostic tests and relaying them to the hospital by owl; she took her job very seriously.

Since Draco thought she was very cute when she was worrying over him, he had no objections to her plans. Actually, he was looking forward to seeing her new flat, as they'd so far only spent time in his.

His first impression of her home was that it was very welcoming. The wood tones of the furniture and the large, prominent bookshelves made him feel a little bit like he was in a cozy library. The Muggle photographs on the wall that didn't move, no matter how you provoked them, helped to reinforce the sense of stillness. But instead of feeling stale or oppressive, there was an overwhelming sense of peace and comfort.

This was where Hermione had come to rest herself after her emotional upheaval. This was the peaceful nook she'd carved out for her life. Draco had an incredible feeling of privilege for being allowed through the doors. He doubted many had ever set foot in here, with Hermione protectively guarding her new, independent space.

Draco's second impression of her home involved sharp pain shooting up one of his legs.

"Oh no, Crookshanks!" Hermione rushed to swat at the cat who hissed at them both before retracting his claws and the paw that had swiped Draco in the leg. Giving them a baleful stare, he trotted off with his tail held up high.

"I'm so sorry! It's been a while since we've had a visitor, I should have warned him!"

"Warned him, Granger? You could have warned me that you still had that menace, and that he went around injuring innocent bystanders. I could have lost my leg!"

She headed to the kitchen table, carefully removing all of the potions and instructions and laying them all out. "Nonsense, Draco. Come here and let me look at that scratch he left you with."

Draco trudged over to her, but didn't show her the scratch. "I think I'll need to remove my trousers for this, Granger."

"For the scratch on your ankle, you think you'll need to remove your entire pair of trousers?" She turned to look at him as he sidled up far too close to her.

"Well, don't you want to examine me thoroughly?" he asked, his voice low and suggestive. "I think you should. It would be the responsible thing to do."

He closed the distance between them, his hands sliding around her waist, turning her in towards him, as he nuzzled the soft spot at her neck. He heard her breath catch and smiled at how easy she was to distract.

"Actually," he began, "I think maybe it's time for bed. It's been a long couple of days, and I'm feeling like a bit of bedrest might be just the thing for me." With his nose, he nudged her until her head tilted just a bit to the side and he could plant tiny kisses down the ridge of her neck to her shoulders.

She shivered under his attention and sighed. He rather thought he could hear when her brain clicked back on again, though. "You really should rest, Draco. You're supposed to be recovering. I didn't bring you home just to have my wicked way with you."

He pouted, his lips still skimming her skin. "No? Because that's exactly why I came."

She laughed, and he took the opportunity to drag his teeth lightly on her shoulder.

Her sharp gasp ignited the fire that had been simmering in his belly all afternoon. He was done playing games. There was an aching need inside of him that demanded he get as close as possible to his witch.

He brought his mouth to hers in a searing kiss. He hadn't been able to kiss her properly at the hospital. Too many people who might walk in, his partner included (and especially).

Now he didn't hold back, immediately coaxing her mouth to open, letting his tongue slide against hers. He nipped her bottom lip, swallowing her heavy, breathy gasps.

His hands slid down, grabbing at the backs of her Muggle jeans. He really loved those back pockets. He pulled her close, tighter and tighter, until her whole body was aligned with his.

He almost shook with the feeling of having her pressed up against him.

"Bed, Hermione," he whispered against her mouth, in what was half demand, half plea.

"This isn't really—"

He interrupted her thought with his mouth, dragging her lip between his teeth and sucking on it.

"I mean, maybe we shouldn't—"

He latched onto the spot on her neck that made her moan. He wasn't going to take any excuses.

Her hands grappled flimsily at his shoulders as her knees started to go weak. He could feel the way she leaned into him. "Are you sure?" she finally asked.

Draco smiled, pleased he'd gotten around the protestations of her over-thinking brain.

"I'm 100 percent sure," he said, his low voice rumbling against her neck, "that taking you horizontally in a soft bed, will be much less strenuous than taking you up against your kitchen counters. Although, for the record, I am confident I could make the most of both those situations. Feel free to make the best decisions for my recovering health, though."

She was unmoving in his arms, clearly still indecisive.

Draco pulled back with a sigh, and began placing small kisses on the corner of her mouth. "Hermione, I'm feeling quite energetic, and pleased at myself for not being dead." He started to kiss his way back up her jaw, and whispered in her ear. "And I desperately need to be inside you."

He felt her whole body tremble and yield as she cuddled up to him, responding to the dark urgency in his voice.

"Bed," he reminded her. Because despite his bravado, he really didn't think he could manage a frantic fuck up against the wall, though he desperately wanted to. Tomorrow, maybe.

He released her just enough for her to grab his hand and lead him over to the bedroom.

"Crookshanks, if you please," she said in amused tones to the orange cat that was sitting in the middle of her bed.

As if sensing the tension and Draco's clear impatience, Crookshanks ran off, all offended dignity.

Hermione turned to say something, no doubt about her infernal cat, but Draco just slammed the door and yanked her to him.

With hurried hands and a feverish mouth, he started divesting them both of their clothing. After a moment for her to regain her bearings under the onslaught of sensation, she started to help him, kicking out of her shoes and wriggling out of her jeans.

They fell together in the middle of the bed, Draco's mouth roaming all over her body, interspersing kisses with flattering comments about all of her curves.

The words would have embarrassed Hermione if she had been listening to them. But all she heard was the low murmur of his voice and the way her heart was racing. He did this to her with just a few kisses, a few words. She was hot and wet already, feeling that magnetic pull to his body.

After a tug and a roll, she realized Draco had pulled her on top of him as he rested against the headboard.

Alarmed, she looked down, trying to avoid putting weight on his bandage and his shoulder. "Draco, what are you—"

"Darling," he said with a grin, "since you don't want me to over exert myself, I'm afraid you'll have to do most of the work."

"But—but—" she spluttered, feeling out of her element as she perched above him naked and exposed. "Wouldn't I…squish you?"

He laughed at that, resting his hands over hers where they were braced against him. He lifted one hand, placed a kiss on the back, and then guided it up towards the headboard behind him. "Well, just don't squish me, then."

She chewed on her lip, trying to ignore the way this position made her feel exposed. "Wouldn't you rather…something sort of slow and … gentle?" she asked hopefully.

He didn't laugh again, but she saw the amusement in his eyes. "Well, you can control how slow and gentle you go, if that's what you want. But I was actually hoping for a bit of a rough and tumble fuck. And since I'm not currently in a condition to fuck you straight into the mattress, riding my brains out seems a decent compromise. I should be up for it tomorrow, though."

"Draco," she protested feebly. His words made her just a little uncomfortable. They were so…crude and elemental. She liked how he made her feel desired and needy. She'd never enjoyed sex so much before.

But this feeling like all he wanted was sex, and she was a willing body―it made her suddenly feel cold. She had not forgotten that it was in the aftermath of facing death that Ron had been caught cheating with Lavender. He'd made it sound like he couldn't help himself. Like the life-affirming need for sex had just been too high. And he certainly hadn't wanted it from her.

Draco seemed to be able to tell instantly that something was wrong. "Hermione?" His hands came up to her hips, sliding up her thighs and rubbing circles on them with his thumbs.

She removed her hands from the headboard, settling back on his thighs, crossing her arms over her breasts.

"Just looking for a good fuck, are you?" The words sounded bitter, but her tone was quiet and had an edge of hurt to it.

"Not just a good fuck," he hedged, trying to figure out what had changed so quickly. "But I was under the impression we were certainly about to have one."

"I don't fuck," Hermione said, a gleam of fire in her eye. "Sex means something to me. It's about affection and intimacy. Sex is more than just two bodies coming together. It's about trust and two people sharing a—a profound connection."

When he just looked at her, his expression frozen, she added, hesitantly, "It's making love."

For a moment Draco said nothing. Then he slowly said, "Hermione, there is a difference between sex and love."

She couldn't explain why those words hurt so much, but she felt the tears welling in her eyes. "I know that. Trust me, I know that." Her words really were bitter that time, remembering.

He sighed. "That's not what I meant."

He raised his hands, skimming them up her sides to pull at her waist. He tugged at her gently, and though she hesitated at first, she came forward until he had her tucked against his good shoulder. His arms came around her, and he leaned his head against the top of hers.

His hands traced the skin at her back as he began to speak. "You're right that sex is about all of those things. It's love, affection, intimacy, trust. But it can also be about scratching an itch or meeting a need."

She resisted the urge to stiffen up at his words, his fingers reassuring her that she was still safe, and he wasn't finished speaking.

"Sometimes it's needing to be as close as possible to someone, needing to express feelings that have no words. It can be violins and rose petals. Or it can be heat and sweat and dirty things whispered in your ear. It can be slow and gentle. Or hot and vicious. It can be making love all night, or it can be fucking on every available surface.

"You don't have to be one or the other. You don't have to feel that in order to enjoy good sex with someone that you need to be in love or it makes you a bad person. Otherwise you'll find yourself thinking—" he cut off the words. After a pause, he continued. "Just like you shouldn't mistake hot sex for tender feelings, don't mistake the desire for having sex for the sake of sex as evidence that tender feelings aren't involved."

Hermione winced at his words. The initial sharp panic had faded in the face of his sensible words. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to imply that you were—that we were—" But she couldn't finish. Because actually that's exactly what she'd done. "I'm sorry," she whispered again.

She felt like she'd ruined everything. Draco had given her no reason to suddenly feel insecure, but here they were, naked in her bed and she'd brought all of her emotional baggage right into the middle of it all.

His nose nuzzled against her neck again, and his hands continued to rub circles over her back, trailing up her sides to her ribs and back again. "Let me tell you something, Granger," he said. "Sometimes, I want your brain. I want the flash in your eyes when you meet a challenge. I want to ask you a hundred questions just to see what you'll say. Sometimes, I want your time and attention, all of it on me and nothing else."

"But sometimes," he whispered in her ear, his breath suddenly hot on her neck, "sometimes I want your body. I want the curve of your waist under my fingers." Those fingers tightened briefly on her, before skimming upwards. "I want the feel of your breasts heavy in my hands." The back of his thumbs brushed against the underside of her breasts before creeping upwards.

The warmth of his hands warmed her up again. Despite her reservations, her body's arousal had been just under the surface, and it didn't take much to bring it back.

"Sometimes I want the feel of you wet and warm and willing—and wrapped tightly around me. I promise wanting your body doesn't mean any less that I want everything else about you."

He sat up higher, causing her to settle back against his thighs again, and he started kissing along her neck, her collarbone, his hands skimming around to cup her arse.

"For a very scary moment," he said, his mouth wet against her skin as she started making little sighing noises, "I thought I'd never see you again. Never feel this again. And all I've wanted since then is to feel your skin sliding against mine. Have your scent all mixed up in every breath I take. The taste of you on my tongue."

He nipped at her skin, tilting her just enough backwards that his mouth could travel further, his tongue tracing a wet path downwards.

"You'll have to forgive me for being utterly distracted and wanting to feel every inch of you."

He raised his head to look her in the eye, searching for something. The heat she saw there pierced her, shooting sparks straight down her body. She blinked at the arousal that clouded her mind, and he smirked at her.

"I sincerely regret that tonight I cannot fuck you six ways from Sunday, or I would endeavor to show you how lovely it is to be fucked with all good intentions." His hands came up to frame her face, his tone serious again. "A good fuck is not all I want. Not tonight. Not ever. But if by chance I did, the whole appeal of the thing is that it's with you. So if you still didn't want to—and you don't have to—I'm certainly not inclined to look anywhere else."

And with that, he touched his lips to hers. Gently, so gently.

She felt the shimmery lights again. Without his hands on her, causing sparks to ignite with his every touch, it was easy to feel the lightness and the sparkling warmth that came with his kiss.

He made no move to deepen it, and she recognized that despite all of his attempts at seduction, it was ultimately her call.

She pulled back and looked at him, those grey eyes so deep she felt like she'd fall right in.

So she closed her eyes and dove.

Her mouth slipped and slid against his, her tongue plunging in to tangle with his, as her hands came up to tangle in his hair. The desire she tasted as she skimmed her teeth over his lip, nipping at him the way he'd done to her, caused a tiny moan to escape her.

At the sound, his hands gripped tightly on her hips, and she arched against them, reveling in the desperate way his fingers branded her flesh.

As if she'd been keeping the fire carefully banked and suddenly removed the lid, she felt heat and desire rip through her, unstoppable like Fiendfyre.

She pulled her mouth away from his, gasping at the overwhelming sensations, but his mouth just continued kissing wetly along her neck, down again, picking up where he'd left off earlier.

He pulled at her, putting her hands back up onto the headboard, sliding his mouth downwards as her body angled upwards.

As her hands settled and she braced herself carefully so she wouldn't put pressure on his injuries, she felt his mouth kiss down her chest, and she quivered.

The moaning sound he made echoed up her body, and she felt a liquid pull straight down her center.

Bracing herself up on her knees, she leaned into him, his head going backwards to rest against the headboard as his tongue twirled against her skin.

One of his hands reached around her, skimming the cleft of her arse before following it down between her legs.

"Oh," she gasped, as his fingers found her.

She bucked backwards against his hand, groaning and wanting more.

"Tell me what you want, Hermione," he said, looking up at her.

"You," she said, easily, still straining as he teased her.

He grinned at her, dropping another light kiss. "But do you want to play," another kiss, and a nip, "or do you want to ride?"

Her mouth dropped open, not even a squeak coming out. Try as she might, she couldn't see herself that way.

But she knew what he wanted. He'd been saying it the whole night.

"Show me," she whispered. "Show me how."

His hands came back up to her hips. Backwards, he guided her, angling her until she was poised above him.

"Sit," he said, sounding as breathless as she felt.

His eyes were like storm clouds, hazy with need and desire as they bore into her. She took him into her body, watching him as he felt the way she surrounded him in wetness and heat.

When she was flush against his thighs, she squeezed reflexively, and he groaned. He was so deep this way, she could feel him in every breath she took.

His hands fluttered at her sides again, encouraging her to rise upwards on her knees. Patiently, he guided her up and down, until she got her balance and started to feel the rhythm.

Then he let go, and for a dizzying second she felt the rush of insecurities, like she was going to fall over. But the feel of him grounded her, and she rocked against him, the movement sending shocks of pleasure through her.

Carefully she started to move, rising up and down the way he'd shown her.

The harder she did it, the louder his moans got.

She liked to hear the sounds he made, they filled her with a thrilling sense of power. She could make them drawn out, long and tortured, or she could make him gasp in short, breathy spurts.

Draco's hands were fisted in the sheets, his head thrown back and so she put her own head back, concentrating on all the feelings inside of her.

She felt strong, powerful. Like she was drowning in sensation, and yet it was just fueling her forward. She reveled in the burn and ache in her thighs as she kept up her rhythm. Every feeling spiraled through her, making her want more and more.

"Ohh," she screamed, the climax rocketing through her fast and clear.

Her rhythm was knocked off balance as she tried to catch her breath, but still she rocked slowly against him.

That had been brilliant. She'd forgotten, for a moment, everything about her surroundings. It had just been the feel of him beneath her, and that tension that built and built until it broke and washed over her.

Her legs ached, but she started moving with firmer strokes again. With the edge of her arousal gone, she was free to look at Draco as she rode him.

Every time she slammed down on him, he exhaled like she was stealing his breath. She liked watching his eyes flutter as he watched her with dark desire.

She bent, resting her hands lightly on his stomach as she switched her angle.

When his hands tightened, she slowed down.

"You like having me ride you?" she asked boldly. Obviously, he did, but he nodded anyway.

Then she moved again, slamming into him, enjoying that feeling of power running through her as she fucked him into the mattress the way he'd wanted to. Her pleasure was growing and spiraling again.

"Draco, Draco, come for me," she called to him.

He finally bucked up against her, gasping her name and convulsing. Her knees locked tight around his waist.

She cried out again, and came to a heaving stop, falling forward to brace herself against the headboard again.

"Oh my god," she gasped. Her vision was spotty, but she tried to find a way to dismount, recalling suddenly that he was supposed to be injured.

But he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close, and pressing a wet kiss to her neck.

Together they shuffled down, until they lay spent under the covers, still damp with sweat.

When he could breathe again, he said in a very formal tone, "Miss Granger, I want you to know how much I appreciate your dedication to my recovery, and the efforts you went through to ensure I had the moderate amount of exercise the Healers recommended."

She laughed, turning her face into his chest, strangely pleased and surprised at herself. "Oh, it was all my pleasure, I assure you."

"Oh, yes," he answered her drily, "so I heard."

A/N: So I know that FFN doesn't allow for MA-rated material. As with Chapter 25, I have tried to edit this from MA to M-rated. I'm not entirely sure I was successful, as the content was sort of inherently MA-rated, LOL. But, for those of you curious about what the difference is, you can get a PDF version of Chapter 34 by asking for it on my Facebook Author Page. You can message me there, under Maloreiy Webster. But I won't be giving out the PDFs until after I post the final chapter for this current update-session, Chapter 35…because it also has smut. :-0

So check back in two days, and then I will send both Chapter 34 and Chapter 35 together to anyone who wants it.

As always, thank you all for your wonderful reviews, I've been so excited to share all these chapters, and to see how much you all are enjoying them. See you in two days.

S&R: CONSTRUCTIVE REVIEWS WELCOME (CRW), especially on smut, LOL, because writing that shit gives me all kinds of anxiety