When Hermione had told him to come by her flat, she realized there was a very real possibility that they would end up stumbling into her bedroom while scrambling to rip the others clothes off. It should have bothered her, but she found herself waking up earlier than normal to carefully select of pair of knickers. Pulling the black lace flush against her arse, she grabbed the matching bra, and wore a black dress.
Her robes were loose around her shoulders, and as she sat in her kitchen, she wasn't sure whose nerves she felt. It could have been hers, considering she was chewing her nails down to the nub, as she looked at herself in the mirror for the upteenth time. It might have been his, but she wasn't sure who was suffering the most.
For a moment, she feared he wouldn't come by, and the soulmate bond between them was nothing but a mistake the universe had made at her expense. But then there were three short knocks on her front door, and panic clawed its way back to the forefront. Sliding off of the stool, she smoothed her dress down and took a deep breath before opening the door. "Hi," she murmured, letting the door swing open so he could step inside. "I was worried - why are you staring at me like that?"
His eyes roamed over every inch of her, and he set the flowers he'd brought - a cliche move, but it made her heart pound - on the table beside the entry way. "If I kiss you, will you smack me?" Draco's lips were curved into a smirk, and her breath caught.
"I can't think of anything better actually." Hermione told him.
His hands came up to cup her face as he walked her back towards the kitchen, the small of her back bumping against the edge of the island. Malfoy's lips were soft, and she wondered if they had been as bruised as hers in the last week. If she had stuck around, would he have seemed as flushed as her?
Hermione's fingers tangled in his hair, completely fucking up what he had just styled, and she pulled him closer, whimpers tumbling from her lips. If staying apart made her want him, it was nothing compared to the way she wanted to lead him to her bed now. "I don't want to fuck," she muttered, her fingers sliding down along his jaw. "I'd like to get to know you first."
He laughed, his chest vibrating against hers as he set her on top of the counter. "I'm not going to fuck you, not yet at least." He kissed her once more, gripping her waist before pulling away from her.
"Not yet? You seem rather sure of yourself," Hermione smiled, staying in her spot on top of the counter. "Oh, you've smudged my lipstick," she muttered, plucking her wand from the countertop.
"I wouldn't fix that yet," Draco told her, lifting the two cups of tea from beside the sink, holding one out to her. "It would be a waste of time to fix it when I'm going to mess it up before we leave this flat." He was smirking, and he leaned against the edge next to her. Before she could reply sarcastically, he asked her, "Why were you at St. Mungo's?"
A nervous laugh bubbled up, and she let her hair fall into her face as she clutched her cup. "I thought my potions had failed, and I was pregnant."
Malfoy spluttered, spitting his tea out before sniggering loudly, the hot liquid seeping into his white button up below his suit. "Merlin, Granger, that's not how -"
She cut him off, her cheeks flaming. "I'm bloody well aware that it was ridiculous. It would have been an impossibility for me to already know, but you must understand the kind of pain I was in."
He sobered up, his fingers finding her inner thigh as his thumb pressed against it, rubbing in soothing circles. "What was it like for you? I thought I was going to die. It felt as if my heart was going to give out, which I learned was when you collapsed."
Hermione's eyes widened at his description. "Well," she began. "I thought I was pregnant." She said dryly. "Neville would not stop laughing at me when I told him, but it felt like my chest kept getting tighter."
"Did that happen the day you went?" She nodded. "It was probably the distance; I was in France that day, and I nearly flooed to St. Mungo's, but I didn't want to overwhelm you."
Her nose crinkled. "So, if I'm too far away from you, that's going to happen every single time? I think the fuck not."
He snorted. "Lovegood - Longbottom, whatever she prefers told me it was because of the distance. If we were mated, that wouldn't happen."
Hermione's eyes narrowed. "Where did you learn that? I've bought every last book that could have told me that, and made one very uncomfortable trip to Knockturn - if you haven't heard, the entire Wizarding World knows I'm an Omega now,"
Draco moved just as she blinked, standing in between her thighs with his hands gripping her waist tightly. "I saw the headlines; I had Skeeter fired. Tell me more about this trip to Knockturn Alley." His eyes had grown dark as he peered down at her, brushing her hair to the side as if he were inspecting her for bruises.
"I stupefied Adrian Pucey, but it was nothing more than a few crass words he said to me." She murmured, scourgufying his shirt with wandless, and non-verbal magic. "There is no need to confront him." Though the thought of it made her want to wrap her legs around his waist, and tell him to carry her to the bedroom.
Fucking Omega traits.
"What did he say?" Draco said through gritted teeth.
She shuddered as he cupped her neck, his fingers mistakenly brushing the mating gland there. Hermione whimpered, her fingers fisting in his shirt. "Unless you plan to mark me, don't touch that." She told him, burying her face in his chest.
"I'm not," he told her, but with the unevenness of his breathing, Hermione wasn't so sure he could control himself. "Sweetheart, I need you tell me what Pucey said to you. I'm not going to allow someone to harass you, no matter how well you can protect yourself."
"He told me he'd always wanted a pet Mudblood," she cringed. "And that I would be a good Omega whore for him, and Draco, you mustn't do anything to him. If they threw you in Azkaban, I'm not sure what I would do."
"I'm sure they would allow conjugal visits when I nearly ripped out a guard's throat." He said darkly.
Hermione looked at him in horror. "Or you could just not go to Azkaban at all? I don't fancy fucking you with an audience. I hexed him too, I'm positive he's still walking funny." She moved to kiss him on the cheek, but he turned his head and kissed her hard.
"Bloody good thing we didn't meet in public," he muttered. He was right.
It was a miracle she hadn't been late to work, and it was Draco's doing that the pair of them apparated into the atrium with time to spare. Several of the Ministry's employees looked to them in mild surprise; yes, it had been outed to the entirety of their world that she was an Omega, which was seemingly breaking news if you asked Rita Skeeter. The one thing they didn't know was if she was with anyone, and the sight of the Malfoy heir beside her - well, she would have been surprised too.
Of course, this was a place of professionalism, and her colleagues had the decency not to ask her about it. All of them except for one.
Ron stormed into her office just before lunch, his yelling drawing the attention of the entire floor. "You're fucking Malfoy?" He roared, knocking a stack of papers from her desk. "Did you miraculously forget what a prick he is?"
Hermione swallowed, keeping her mouth closed before she cast a hex she wouldn't be able to take back. Donning her coat that hung over her chair, she prepared to meet with Draco for lunch. He'd sent her a letter a hour earlier, from his own owl this time, to ask her to eat with him before he left the country for a few days.
"My personal life is none of your business." She told him, pulling the strap of her handbag over her shoulder.
"None of my business? This is the same bloke that called you a filthy Mudblood," Ron found himself with his lips still moving, but no sound came from them.
Draco leaned against the doorframe, his suit jacket gone, and his sleeves rolled up. Hermione wanted to drag him inside and cast a silencing charm. "I was waiting in the atrium, but I thought I would come and get you. It's a good thing I did, isn't it?"
Ron glared at him, and though his fingers twitched towards his wand, he didn't grab it.
Hermione sighed. "No dueling in my office."
"Afraid that's not how it works, sweetheart." Draco growled, his arm sneaking around her waist. "I could kill you, Weasley." He said lowly, leaning forward at eye level. "I wouldn't need my wand at all, just my hands. You'd do well to remember what an Alpha can do when his mate is threatened."
"I'm not," Hermione rolled her eyes, but her belly tightened at the way he spoke of her. "And there will be no killing either."
"You're not, no," he told her gently, "given the circumstances though, you'll have to forgive me if I speak as if you are. It's that simple for me." Draco spoke quietly to her, watching from the corner of his eye as Ron stormed out, his face as red as his hair.
Her mouth dried. She had a suspicious inkling her legs would be weak when she returned to work in an hour.
She was right. Hermione grabbed his hand, and shook her head, dragging him to the floo in her office. Grabbing a handful of floo powder, and pressing it into his hand, she told him to meet her in her flat. She went through first, stepping away from the fireplace as she waited for the mere seconds to pass.
When Draco came through, his hands were already on her, sneaking into her hair . He kissed her roughly, nipping her bottom lip, and walking her backwards towards the sofa. "So fucking angry." He muttered, ripping her dress open at the zipper with the weak explanation that she could change.
"Then everyone will know I left for," Hermione moaned when his hands kneaded her breasts through her bra. "Fuck, okay, I don't care."
He grinned as he turned her so her back was flush against his chest, and his arms locked around her while he bit where her shoulder met her neck. The pleasure made her legs buckle, but he held her against him. "You're not in heat this time," he whispered into her neck, sitting on the couch, and pulling her into his lap.
Her back was still to him, and he reached down to spread her legs, draping them over the sides of his legs. Hermione slumped against him, breathing heavily as he vanished her already ruined knickers with his wand. "I don't know if that even matters," Hermione keened as his fingers brushed her clit. "I feel like I'm on fire regardless."
It was surely another effect of this bond that had culminated between them, and she was not prepared for what he told her next. "Don't come," he bit her earlobe, his fingers swiping across her clit. "Not until I tell you."
At first, she thought it would be easy. She'd had her problems with finishing in the past, but this wasn't the same situation. It was him, and with the way he touched her, Hermione was certain it wasn't possible. "Why?" She whined instead, her back arching when his finger slid inside of her, curling.
He nuzzled her neck. "I want to hear you beg." Draco chuckled at her squeak. "It'll make it that much better when you come over my fingers, screaming, and exhausted. I told you I wasn't going to fuck you, and I'm not, but you'll wish I had." Draco tugged her bra down, exposing her breasts while he pinched her nipple, dragging a gasp from her.
"Draco," Hermione wasn't prepared for the way she trembled beneath him, or the way her legs shook as his fingers moved faster, and she was nearly, nearly there, and she told him so, and then - nothing. "No," she whimpered, attempting to drag his hand back to her dripping cunt. "Oh, please, Draco."
His lips brushed the mating gland, laving it gently. "Oh, fuck. Hermione, I wasn't thinking."
She didn't bloody care because the only thing she could think of was what it would feel like if he sunk his teeth into her right now while she rode his fingers. Certain it would cause her to orgasm immediately, Hermione imagined what it would be like to be taking his cock while he claimed her. "I'm not upset," she gasped. "It feels too good, and I don't trust myself. You could make it up to me by making me come."
Two fingers slid into her hard, and fast before he backed off again. "I think not." Each time he brought her right to the edge, and she would hiss, bucking against his fingers, and then he would slow down. Draco didn't come near her neck again for fear of losing control, and in quiet tones, he told her how sweet she had tasted under his tongue.
Hermione watched the clock as the minutes dragged by, and after twenty minutes, she cracked. "Can I please come?" She whispered, laying her head on his shoulder and looking up at him. "No?" Her voice cracked. "For Merlin's sake, please, Draco."
That fucking smirk still on his face he shook his head. "I want to hear you beg, and no, love, that's not begging."
"Please, Alpha," his eyes were stormy as she whined. "I can't come unless you give me permission," she shrieked as he rubbed her clit faster, applying pressure while she attempted to form a sentence. "I just, ah, want to please you." Whether he chose to take pity on her, or her begging had worked, Draco shifted.
He left her to sit with her back against the pillows while he sank to his knees in front of her. Parting her legs and letting them rest on her shoulders, he lowered his mouth to her pussy. His tongue slid up her slit, flicking her clit while he thrust two fingers into her. It took practically nothing beyond the "Come for me, I want to taste you," for Hermione's back to arch while her legs trembled.
Toying with her nipples, and pinching the sensitive buds, she whimpered his name, scooting forward from the couch, and sliding to the floor. "We still have thirty minutes," Hermione told him, pushing him to lay on her carpet while she straddled his waist, undoing his trousers. "And you wearing a suit does things to me."
He grinned, and she was disappointed to say that he did keep his promise to not fuck her.
