A/N: This is the last chapter before the epilogue.
Please note that the chapter hasn't been alpha read or beta'ed, so excuse any mistakes.
Triggers in this chapter include mentions of murder, rape and loss.
I hope you enjoy reading this one as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Songs to listen to:
Birdy – Let it all go
Ella Henderson – Body
Augustana – Stars and Boulevards
Shawn Mendes – Fallin' All In You
Sofia Carson - I Didn't Know
Chapter 27:
January 2006:
HPOV
Hermione's body was still extremely sensitive when Draco and she arrived at Hogwarts the next afternoon, the funeral behind them.
She'd felt so uncomfortable today while under the scrutiny of the elitist, judgemental sacred-twenty-eight-type guests who had come to 'pay their respects' to Lucius Malfoy.
Add to that the way her knickers had chafed against her sensitive clit while she walked, reminding her exactly who was responsible for it, and she had eventually excused herself to the bathroom to remove her knickers and cast a cooling charm between her legs. Because just as Draco had promised, he'd made her come on his tongue until she'd begged him to stop.
But she'd returned the favour, and as a result, neither of them would even be thinking about sex for the next couple of days.
After dinner in the Great Hall, she and Draco parted ways to get some rest. They were both exhausted thanks to their lack of sleep the last few days, and she was planning to take a well-deserved bath before bed. Maybe she'd use one of the bath tonics Draco had gifted her for Christmas.
Hopefully the tee tree -and -coconut oil tonic would be able to offer some relief for the discomfort between her legs.
Her inner thighs were red and tender from where Draco's five o'clock shadow had chafed against her skin. Her throat felt bruised and raw from Draco's eager thrusting, her voice was hoarse and she swore that, even after a dozen cleaning charms and multiple, thorough teeth brushings, she could still feel the way his cum coated the back of her teeth like a badge of honour.
But even while close to limping and utterly exhausted, both of them had been riding their post-orgasm highs throughout the funeral today, too blissed out to take any of the judgemental sneers and comments to heart. Not when being together felt this unbelievably good.
Draco had been quick to remind her that none of the people he, Narcissa, Pansy and the rest of their gang had introduced her to as his girlfriend were the kind of people that she needed to seek approval from. If they were there to mourn Lucius Malfoy, odds were that these people were rotten to the core, or were only there to mourn the loss of his sexual prowess.
And Godric, there had been tons of women in attendance today. The mere notion that Draco's mother had to be aware of their ties to her husband had made Hermione's heart ache for Narcissa.
She supposed that's where Slytherin etiquette and grooming came in handy—the ability to keep a stiff upper lip and smile at the people around you who were ready to stab you in the back as soon as you showed any weakness.
Hermione had always been unable to hide how she was feeling. Her poker face was appalling, but at least she knew Draco would never expect her to put up a front. Nor would he intentionally put her in the sort of position that Lucius had done with Narcissa.
xxx
For some reason, Hermione and Draco were stuck in limbo this week, both unsure of how to navigate the fact that they were on the precipice of having sex again, and figuring out if sleepovers were a thing now.
After New Year's Eve where they'd been fully intent on having sex, and then 'sleeping' in Draco's bed the night before the funeral, it was as if the pressure and expectations were weighing them down.
Hermione didn't want to force things. Didn't want to schedule their 'first time'. She wanted it to happen as naturally as it had on New Year's Eve after the fireworks.
Draco seemed to be on the same page in that regard, and even after they'd both recovered from their vigorous night of oral sex, neither of them forced the issue.
It wasn't even supposed to be an issue. It was sex, for Godric's sake.
With the start of the second term looming, Hermione and Draco used their time to cuddle in front of the fire, read together and snog. A lot. For some reason, these kisses remained careful, innocent and restrained, as if one wrong move would strip them of their fraying self-control. And why was that even a bad thing?
They'd resumed their morning runs as soon as their chafing had healed, but instead of getting up early, they slept in and went jogging just after ten every day.
They spent a few evenings stargazing from the astronomy tower when they didn't have patrols. They met up with their friends once or twice for coffee or dinner and drinks, and on Sunday, she had a coffee date with Theo to discuss his plans to propose to Harry. Hermione was particularly excited about this discussion and had already jotted down a few ideas to present to Theo.
On Friday morning, Draco's eyes had been almost permanently glued to Hermione's arse as they did their warm-up stretches. It was nothing new. But the way he'd been looking at her throughout their run, the way they'd been unable to keep their hands to themselves, stopping every few minutes for slow, dark chocolate kisses and simmering touches had ignited a fire low in Hermione's belly that promised more…
And after a light lunch at the staff table—the air between them crackling with electricity while they shared ravenous looks and traded heated touches under the table—they headed back to her quarters, both aware of what was going to happen the moment they were alone.
As soon as Hermione's door shut behind them, she found herself wrapped brazenly around Draco's hips. He growled in her ear, fisted a hand in her hair and pressed her roughly up against the wood.
When his lips trailed a scorching path over her collarbone and up her neck to suck the skin under her jaw, completely unbothered that she was sweaty from their run, the kindling in her belly ignited into bone-deep desperation.
Draco released her hair to yank at her sweater, eager to bare as much of her skin to him as his hips ground slow and deep between her legs.
His intentions were clear…thank Merlin. Because she wanted this too. They've waited long enough.
Her tights and his joggers left absolutely nothing to the imagination. She could feel every hard inch of him, and with every buck of his hips, he was pushing her closer to the edge.
"I need—" Draco groaned against her neck as he lifted her sweater over her stomach and bucked his hips again, pinning her to the door. "Fuck, please baby. Just…I need to be inside of you…" Another buck of his hips and then he pulled his mouth away just long enough to tear off her sweater and sports bra. "Right fucking now."
He made no attempt to remove her leggings, getting distracted by her breasts instead.
She bucked against him, fairly certain that he was going to punch a hole straight through the damp material between her legs if they didn't get it off her soon.
But when his teeth tugged at her nipple, rolling the other into a painful peak between his fingers, her mind went blank and her body took over.
A cry tumbled over her lips as Draco slipped a hand to her arse to grind himself harder against her, and when she tipped her head back, it smacked against the door, her eyes rolling with pleasure.
The door rattled with each vigorous thrust of Draco's hips, loud enough that everyone walking by would know exactly what the two of them were up to.
She didn't give a damn right now, but Draco, clearly more coherent than her, turned them away and headed for the shower instead.
As soon as he put her down inside the bathroom, Hermione started undressing Draco with clumsy, trembling hands. And she knew, once inside the shower, they would be unable to stop themselves. They'd find their way to bed later, sure, but by then the water would be cold and the brunt of their desire would have been tempered enough so they could take it slower.
But there would be no more rest for them today.
Draco leaned into the shower to turn on the water, and while he took his time adjusting the temperature, Hermione took her time enjoying the curve of his strong thighs that swelled into the sexiest arse she'd ever come across in her life.
She'd be digging her heels and her nails into that perfect arse very, very soon.
When he turned back to her, noticing the way her eyes lowered to that perfect, solid cock of his as it jutted out proudly between his legs, a smirk kicked up at one corner of his mouth. He wrapped a large hand around the thick shaft and pumped once.
Her knees buckled in response.
There was a promise in those molten steel eyes of his that made her rub her slick thighs together in anticipation.
Even with thick clouds of steam billowing from the shower, Draco didn't miss the subtle move.
His eyes dipped between her legs and then he took a step toward her, curling his hands around her thighs. With a determined tug, he forced her to widen her stance and gave her his signature smirk. "Let's see if you're ready to be fucked, Granger…" was all he said before he cupped her pussy and pressed two fingers inside her.
She keened at the welcome stretch as he worked his fingers slowly in and out of her, his lips pressed to the underside of her jaw.
"Mmm," he hummed against her skin and she shivered in response. Her walls tightened around his fingers eagerly, but she wanted more.
They'd waited long enough for this moment.
"Such a dirty little witch. Your cunt is begging to be ruined, isn't it baby?"
He pulled his fingers out of her, but instead of sucking them clean, he swiped them across her lips and pressed his mouth to hers to devour her.
The taste of her desire combined with his familiar smoky mint had her nearly convulsing in his arms, trembling with anticipation.
A knock on the door echoed through her quarters, and then another shortly after.
No, no, no!
How was this happening again?
Were Draco and she not allowed to have sex? Was this some kind of sign?
"Maybe if we're really quiet, whoever's at the door will just go away eventually?" she suggested breathily, her heart ramming against her chest and her pulse throbbing steadily between her thighs.
Her lungs burned as she tried to control her breathing, but she was practically panting right now.
"Yeah, okay," Draco agreed, pressing his forehead against hers with a soft gasp when she wrapped her hand around his cock and started pumping him.
"Shower. Now," she ordered, done waiting.
Another knock against her door and the sound of Harry calling her name effectively severed any hopes that Hermione would be getting railed against the shower wall this afternoon.
Draco seemed to realize this too because he was already softening in her hand. "Potter better have a fucking good reason for interrupting us," he growled menacingly and turned away to close the taps. "Get dressed while I let him in," he said, shrugging on his joggers.
And when Draco walked out of the bathroom, drawing the steam along with him, Hermione stared after him, ready to weep. Those strong, inked shoulders, rigid back and tight arse could have been hers to explore right now. And yet, here she was, getting dressed.
When she entered her living room, the scene before her made her want to laugh and sigh in the same breath. Because as she'd expected, Draco was sitting on her couch, bare-chested with his bulky, tattooed arms crossed, glowering at Harry.
And Harry, probably bored with his safe, quiet, normal life these days, was grinning at Draco from her Chesterfield as if he had a death wish.
"So sorry to interrupt your afternoon," Harry said when he tore his eyes away from Draco to look at her.
"You don't look sorry," Draco snapped. "So, hurry the fuck up and say what you came here to say so Granger and I can get back to—"
"Hooo-kay!" Hermione hastily cut Draco off before he could finish whatever inappropriate thing he'd been about to say, and took a seat beside him on the couch.
Draco uncrossed his arms to wrap one around her, pulling her into his side.
The musky scent of his sweat, combined with whatever deodorant he was wearing reminded her of what they'd been doing just minutes ago. Of what they could have been doing right at this moment had they not been interrupted by her best friend. She blushed despite herself.
"I'm loving this, by the way," Harry said, pointing between Draco and her. "The sexual tension between you two. It's so thick I could cut it with a knife. Maybe it's time you stop all this pussyfooting and just have sex. Can't be good for Draco's health if the vein popping on his forehead is anything to go by."
"Harry…" Hermione warned, narrowing her eyes, when at the same time, Draco said, "We were about to. Before you so kindly interrupted us, Potter."
"Well, then why on earth did you open the door for me?" Harry chuckled as if he wasn't trying to goad Draco on purpose.
"What. Do. You. Want?" Draco growled, jaw clenched and left eye twitching as if Harry's question was exactly what he'd been asking himself during this entire encounter.
The way the fist on Draco's thigh clenched and unclenched had Hermione thinking that he was about thirty seconds away from wringing her best friend's neck.
She sighed and cocked a brow at Harry in reprimand.
"Fine, fine," he lifted his hands in supplication. "I wanted to run an idea by the two of you."
Draco shifted in his seat, looking surprised that Harry had said the two of them, instead of just her.
"Oh no, Harry. What are you planning now?" she groaned. "Because if it's dangerous or illegal—which, need I remind you, you're an Auror—I don't have the energy for it."
"I want to propose to Theo."
BOOM!
BOMB DROPPED…
The seconds ticked by in silence while Hermione and Draco absorbed these words.
And then Draco asked, "You want to propose? I thought you were waiting for Theo to plan an elaborate proposal to pander to your ridiculous expectations."
"Well, the thing is…" Harry said, looking sheepish. "I've always been the more hesitant one in Theo's and my relationship."
"No shit…" Draco muttered under his breath.
Unperturbed, Harry continued, "I was reluctant to fall in love. Terrified of commitment and settling down, while Theo's always been unbelievably patient with me."
"Go on," Draco coaxed with a cocked brow as if he was enjoying Harry's admission immensely.
Hermione knew he was worried Harry would end up breaking Theo's heart. The subject had come up quite a few times.
"He's been ready to commit for far longer than I have, and after we started therapy, I realized I had nothing to fear. Besides," he shrugged but a blush stained his cheeks, "Theo and I have never been with anyone else since we started dating. I know he's serious about building a life and a family with me. I know he loves me, and I'm finally ready for everything he wants for us. So, after all his ridiculous proposals, I think it's time I proved to him how much I want him too."
Hermione's jaw almost hit the floor when Draco of all people sniffled, cleared his throat and blinked furiously up at the ceiling. "Fucking hell, Potter…" he sighed.
"What?" Harry asked, nonplussed.
"Look," Draco said, returning his gaze to Harry. "I'll be honest with you, Potter. I did not like the way you pushed Theo away every time things between the two of you became serious," he admitted. "And up until the two of you started going to therapy, I came so close to telling Theo that maybe you two weren't right for each other. That you were just going to break his heart in the end."
Draco gave another manly sniffle. "But I'm really fucking glad I was wrong about you."
It was Hermione's turn to become misty-eyed and she squeezed Draco's thigh.
The irony of his words wasn't lost on her, but still…
The notion that Draco finally trusted Harry not to hurt his best friend and the fact that Harry wanted to prove to Theo how much he loved him was just about the sweetest thing she'd heard in a long time.
Draco pressed a kiss to Hermione's temple and turned back to Harry, "So, what's your plan, then, Potter?"
Harry shifted to the edge of his seat and leaned forward. "That's where I need some help…"
xxx
DPOV
For as long as Theo and Potter have been dating, their relationship has been…difficult. Complicated.
Before getting himself locked up in Azkaban for his involvement with the Death Eaters, Theo's father had been a right fucking cunt.
With an age gap of thirty-four years, Theo's mother and father's relationship had been strained from the very start.
Their marriage had been one of convenience and not love, which had meant a beautiful virgin wife for Nott Sr and limitless wealth for the young Mrs Nott.
But, according to Draco's mother, things between the newlyweds had taken a turn for the worse very, very early on. Because, while Theo's mother certainly had been young and beautiful, a virgin she was not.
Theo's mother had been in a long-term relationship with a muggle at the time of her betrothal to the elderly Nott Sr, and she had not broken it off with her lover when she'd married Theo's father.
For years, Theo's mother had kept her affair a secret while Nott Sr was off doing Voldemort's bidding, raping muggle women and having countless affairs of his own.
Theo had been six when his father found out about the affair, and in a fit of blinding rage, he'd killed his wife right in front of his son.
And while Nott Sr had ensured there was no evidence left behind, not even a body, he'd made Theo watch every gruesome moment until his mother had drawn her last, agonizing breath.
Theo's father had told him that his mother deserved to burn in hell for spreading her legs like a whore for a filthy muggle. That she deserved the slow, torturous death Nott Sr had bestowed upon her.
Theo still wore the scars from the day he'd tried to report his father to the Aurors. Physically…but even more so, mentally.
That had been his introduction to love, marriage and commitment. So, it stood to reason, then, that Theo's relationship with the famous, orphaned Harry Potter—who'd lost his parents first, and then every other parental substitute that had entered his life—would be difficult. Impossible. Doomed, even.
Their relationship had started with casual sex when Potter had first discovered his interest in men, and somehow, had progressed to dating and then love. With a lot of fucking breaks scattered in between.
And while Theo had started imagining a future with Potter, the boy wonder had kept him at arm's length. Frequently suggested they hit the breaks because he wasn't ready for more. Had truly believed no one important in his life would ever survive his shitty luck.
For as many times as Theo had let Draco rage and curse and indulge after his divorce, picking him up from the proverbial floor time and time again, Draco had done it just as many times for him. Because of Potter…
The fact that Theo had chosen a different way to deal with his pain than Draco had was neither here, nor there.
So, finally, finally witnessing Potter step up had taken Draco not only by complete surprise but had made him let go of his reservations about Potter's relationship with Theo.
It was about fucking time he showed Theo that he was just as invested in their relationship.
And that's why, instead of getting laid, Draco was sitting up until two in the morning to help Potter plan the mother of all proposals. For Theo.
"Yes, great. That's just perfect," Hermione huffed when the three of them leaned back in their seats, eyeing the half-dozen rolls of parchment filled with their ideas and notes. "But neither of you has come up with a solution for how I'm supposed to put a stop to Theo's plans of proposing. I'm having coffee with him on Sunday and he'll want me to give him ideas. Help him make concrete plans."
"I might have an idea…" Draco said, feeling smug.
Potter was going to whisk Theo away to a muggle safari lodge in Africa next weekend. Sunset game drives with amazing local food and champagne on the pool deck while wild animals roamed around. The lodge boasted five-star accommodation with private tubs that overlooked miles and miles of bushveld. The whole nine yards. And the cherry on top: a hot air balloon ride at dawn where Potter would be proposing to Theo.
"Cancel the coffee date. I'll tell him that I've planned a surprise weekend away for the two of us to spoil you after all your hard work on the parties. I could ask him if he and Potter want to come with us and suggest he use the weekend as an opportunity to gather ideas for his proposal. But I'll mention that, since I want to surprise you, you and I will be taking a separate portkey. And then we'll simply never show up.
"Perfect," Potter grinned, rubbing his hands together.
"What do you think, Granger?" He turned to Hermione expectantly.
But…she was snoring softly with her head tucked into his shoulder, breathing slow and deep.
"Well…" Potter slapped his hands on his thighs, pushed his glasses higher up onto his nose and stood up. "That's my cue to go. Thanks for all the help, Malfoy. I trust I don't have to ask you to keep all the details to yourself?"
Draco smirked. "Wouldn't dream of spoiling this surprise for anything in the entire world."
Once Potter showed himself out, Draco carried a sleeping Hermione to her bed and tucked her in under the duvet. And then, for the next few minutes, he just stood there like a fucking creep, watching her sleep. He contemplated getting into bed next to her instead of making the lonely trek back to the dungeons—to his cold, empty bed—but he didn't trust himself not to fuck her in the middle of the night.
Not after what almost happened this afternoon.
He'd take care of his needs in the shower like a gentleman and once again, wait for the right time.
He'd walk around with blue balls for the next month if he had to, as long as he didn't screw things up with her.
But he'd be lying if he said he didn't hope they'd have sex soon.
xxx
It was at the staff table during lunch the next day that Draco's Tempest 2006 arrived by owl, wrapped in thick brown paper.
While Hermione's attempt at enthusiasm was rather cute, Malik, Bailey and Wellsley were practically sitting in his lap as he unwrapped his brand-new broom.
The moment it had landed on the table, these three students' eyes had volleyed over to him as if the subtle vibrations of the broom were calling out to them.
"Wow…" Wellsley sighed reverently when the last of the wrapping slithered onto the table. "It's a work of art."
"What kind of wood is the handle made of, Professor?" Bailey asked, following Draco's fingers with misty eyes as he stroked the dark wood of his broom. In the light of the Great Hall, the wood almost looked plum-coloured.
"Indian Rosewood," Draco said, wondering if the semi in his trousers meant there was something seriously wrong with him. It was only a fucking broom, after all. And yet, he'd never seen anything like it.
"Mind showing us what it can do, Professor?" Malik asked. Bailey and Wellsley nodded in eager agreement, flashing him puppy-dog eyes.
Draco glanced at Hermione, raising a brow in question.
Her lips quirked with amusement and she rolled her eyes. "Just as long as you get these three," she tipped her chin toward Malik, Bailey and Wellsley, "Out of here before they start drooling into my stew."
"On it," he said and pressed a kiss to her lips. "Thanks, love. This is the best gift ever."
"Have fun," she said, winking at him. "I'll see you later."
He planted another kiss on her lips and said, "Love you," before he walked off with the students in tow, ready to test out his new 'toy'.
A look over his shoulder showed a dazed-looking Hermione with her fork halfway to her mouth and a stupid smile on her face.
Was it really that much of a surprise that he'd told her he loved her? Especially after they'd confessed their feelings for each other the other night at the Manor.
Or was it because the words had come so easily, so openly in front of everyone at the staff table?
Later that afternoon, still high from pushing his new broom to the limit and watching Malik perform the best Wronski Feint known to wizard-kind on his Tempest, he descended the stairs to the dungeons, fully intent on taking Hermione out on his broom tonight.
If she'd thought his Firebolt was smooth and fast, she had no idea what she was in for with the Tempest. And the kicker? The broom even had anti-fall charms that could keep up to two people secured to the seat until the broom was less than a foot from the ground. And it had automatic stability control that prevented the broom from spiralling out of control.
Now, she had nothing to be afraid of anymore.
xxx
"Do I really have to?" Hermione pouted as Draco led her through the snow toward the Quidditch pitch. "I'm fine staying on the ground while you show off the broom's capabilities."
"Even if I lose control of the broom, which I won't, you can't fall off and we can't crash. And if the broom handle connects with the ground, it freezes on impact. The anti-fall charm acts like a seatbelt of sorts. Like in a muggle car."
She stared off into space, lost in thought for a moment. She blinked a few times and then turned to him with a grin. "So, I picked a good broom, right?"
"The best," he chuckled indulgently. "Maybe after tonight, you'd even be willing to let me teach you how to fly."
She scoffed, "Don't push your luck. Let's stick to me clinging to your body like a limpet for now, shall we?"
"For now…" he agreed and hooked his leg over the seat, straddling the broom. He'd make her fall in love with flying someday. He knew he would. "Come on, Granger. Let me show you what this baby can do..."
The way Hermione's warm body pressed against his back and the feeling of her arms wrapped around him made him want to stay up in the air for the rest of the night.
It was peaceful while they explored the school grounds from high up, but more than anything, he just didn't feel like going back to an empty bed tonight. He was tired of falling asleep wishing she was pressed tightly against him with that riot of curls almost suffocating him.
"Oh, my gods, Draco!" Hermione gasped in his ear as they flew over the Forbidden Forest on their way back to the castle. "I swear I saw the barest hint of blue from the River of Light just now. I didn't even know it was visible from up here."
"It usually isn't. Sometimes, when the leaves thin out in the winter and it's dark outside, you can spot it if you know what to look for. Would you like to go there tonight?"
"Can we?" she squealed with glee. "The last time I was there was the night you found out about the baby."
"But this will be the first time we're going there as a couple since our eighth year," he pointed out. He dipped the handle of the broom toward the forest and descended carefully, trying his best not to scare Hermione.
Once they touched ground at the edge of the forest, further north from where they usually entered, Hermione frowned. "I thought you were taking me to the River of Light?"
"I am," he assured her. "Well…sort of."
When he was met with confusion, he clarified, "Do you remember how we always heard a waterfall in the distance when we visited the river, but we never really went exploring?"
She nodded, eyes widening with excitement.
"Well, a few weeks ago," he said, taking her hand and casting a non-verbal Lumos to light their way, "After our disastrous first therapy session, I came to the River of Light to get my head straight. I walked for hours, following the river until I finally found the waterfall."
"Just to clarify," she looked up at him as she navigated a particularly thorny bush without catching her coat on it, "That's where you're taking me now, right? You're not getting me all excited just to tell me there's some spell that prevents anyone from getting to it? Or some steep rockface we need to scale to get there."
He chuckled and squeezed her hand. "I'm definitely taking you there tonight, and there's a bridge we can cross to get there. The river is particularly deep the closer we get to the waterfall."
Once they reached the weathered, moss-covered stone bridge that arched over the river to take them to the waterfall, Hermione was practically vibrating with excitement.
"Sweet Circe, it's breathtaking, Draco. I can't believe it's been here all along and that we've been blissfully unaware," she gushed, eyes bright as she trailed her hand along the side of the bridge and over the thick, gnarled vines that have twisted their way through the stone blocks in some places.
Once on the other side, Hermione went exploring, just as he'd expected.
He looked around to re-familiarize himself with his surroundings. Tonight was his second time at the waterfall, and he was glad he'd brought Hermione along.
She appreciated this place just as much as he did. This part of the forest would always be special to him.
But unlike the luminescent blue waters of the river, the water that cascaded down the rockface was a shimmering purple and he couldn't wrap his head around the difference in colours. As far as he knew, the waterfall fed into the river, and…
"It's so warm!" Hermione exclaimed when she dipped her hand into the large pool at the foot of the waterfall. "Like bathwater. Or maybe a hot tub."
And then she stood up, her fingers finding the buttons on her coat. She worked them one by one through the holes until she tossed them onto a large rock beside her and continued to undress.
When she shimmied out of her trousers, folding them neatly before dropping them onto the rest of her growing pile of clothes, and then taking off her shoes, Draco finally snapped out of his trance.
He cleared his throat and asked, "What are you doing, Granger?"
He didn't know if it was such a good idea for her to undress in front of him. His cock was already growing hard just from watching her strip, and his self-restraint was buckling under the weight of his desire for her.
"I don't know about you, but I'm definitely going swimming in there," she pointed to the water with a sparkle in her eyes.
And then she unclasped her bra.
Merlin, fuck, why?
He pressed his hands to his face and groaned, long and low. Why was she torturing him like this?
Last to go was her knickers, and when she tossed the electric pink scrap of lace on top of her clothes, shivering from the cold and her nipples very fucking hard, she turned around and carefully made her way over the rocks toward the water.
"Are you going to join me, babe?" she asked him over her shoulder, and once he tore his eyes away from her luscious arse to see the way she was biting her lip, he was rock hard in his trousers and definitely not staying behind while she was completely naked and available to touch.
"Definitely joining you," he nodded eagerly and shrugged out of his clothes as fast as he could.
She moaned loudly as the tops of her breasts disappeared below the water, eyes glued to his body.
The sound made his cock jump, but the way she looked at him made him think that she knew exactly what she was doing. Minx.
When she crooked her finger and beckoned him toward her, his feet followed as if she'd cast a spell on him.
The air between them was magnetic, drawing their gazes toward each other, intense and raw and licentious. The only thing his body and mind knew right now was the need to be as close to her as humanly possible. He needed to be inside her, lose himself in her heat until neither of them knew where the one began and the other ended.
The moment he'd submerged his body in the warm, purple water, their bodies and mouths collided and the air around them pulsed and crackled like an electric storm.
Her mouth opened for him on a moan and he lifted her by the hips until her legs were wrapped tightly around him, every last part of her body pressed against him—her tits, her mouth, her hands and her sweet, scorching cunt.
And he felt lost, frantic, electrified and calm all at once.
This was it. He knew this would be the night they finally got to have sex. After everything they'd been through. After all the hurt and the regrets and the mistakes.
After all the interrupted moments that had left them aching and frustrated, tonight was where all of it had led them and he'd be damned if he screwed it up by rushing this moment.
Instead of pushing inside her as his cock begged of him, he deepened their kiss, savouring the taste of her as her hands traced his skin, kneaded his muscles, and then fisted in his hair in an attempt at getting as close to him as possible.
Their lips parted with a gentle smack and he sucked his way down to her jaw, leaving bruises all the way across her neck on his trek toward her perfect tits, ready to suck her raw.
With every curl of his tongue around those hard peaks and every squeeze of the fleshy swells of her arse beneath his palms, the intensity ratcheted up tenfold until she was trembling against him with need.
Her lips found purchase against the ink of his chest, sucking and biting while he pulled their hips apart to slide his cock between her silky folds.
Red bruises bloomed like flowers under the intricate tattoos on his body by the time she pleaded with him for more, grinding against him desperately while she dug her heels into his arse to get him to relent.
And when the tip of his cock lined up against her perfect cunt, she tipped her head back and released the most beautiful mix between a cry and a groan, her body going rigid with anticipation as she waited for him to move.
"Are you on anything right now, baby, or do you want me to cast a contraceptive charm?" he rasped, so close to giving in and just thrusting to the hilt into her. He was cursing his stupidity for leaving his wand in his trousers pocket instead of on the rocks close by where he could easily access it. If he had to let go of Hermione right now and get out of the pool to fetch his wand, he might just die.
"Potion," she said and before he had time to register his relief, she tightened her legs and bucked her hips forcefully to take him inside until he bottomed out with a guttural growl of pleasure.
"Jesus Christ!" she cried and pressed her face into his neck, her cunt gripping him so tightly that his cock felt as if it was about to pop like a cork on a champagne bottle.
She was warm and slick, her walls tight enough that the sensation teetered on the edge of too much.
When her body relaxed around him, he pulled back slowly and pushed in again, keeping a steady pace that had her trembling against him.
He slipped one hand into her hair to tilt her head back, searching for her lips, but the moment he locked eyes with her, his stomach dropped. Because a lone tear rolled down her cheek and clung to the edge of her jaw.
His hips stilled immediately. "What's wrong, love?" he asked, wiping the tear away with his thumb and cupping her cheek. "Did I hurt you?"
"No," she shook her head and gave him a watery laugh. "Nothing like that. It's just an overwhelming feeling being with you like this. After everything we've been through."
His heart restarted and he heaved a sigh of relief, feeling returning to his limbs. "I know exactly what you mean, love. There was a point when I thought we'd never make it back to each other. But this, us, right now…" He flashed her a smile. "It's so much more than I'd imagined it would be. It feels unbelievably good and I finally understand why you needed us to wait. Because being in love with you and making love to you at the same time is everything."
"I love you so much, Draco," she said and offered him the most beautiful smile before leaning in to capture his lips.
With slow, languid strokes of her tongue, Hermione made him drunk and alert all at once, because while he was so lost inside her, captivated and distracted by her heat all around him, he was acutely aware of the way her heart pounded against him, how her taste was so familiar and welcoming, how her moans stirred contentment deep in his bones.
He was aware of how his blood rushed deafeningly in his ears, how his fingertips burned against her body and how, when he started moving with slow strokes, her walls gripped and released him in carnal, hypnotizing waves that made his breath catch.
Her body jolted in his arms and her cunt tightened exquisitely around him when her climax took both of them by surprise. She ripped her mouth from his, a ragged cry tearing from her throat as she tipped her head back.
With slow, deep thrusts, Draco worked her through her orgasm, driven wild with lust and pleasure.
It was going to be a long night with little sleep—he knew this—because there was no way anything was going to stop him from claiming her over and over tonight until her body never forgot that he was the only one who belonged inside her, around her and over her. Until all the others who'd taken pleasure from her body were nothing more than a vague memory.
When Hermione recovered, eyes glassy, cheeks flushed and curls clinging to her dewy temples, she offered him a devilish grin that, by now, Draco knew spelt trouble.
She tightened her thighs around his hips, dug her heels deep into his arse to pull him as deep inside her as he could go, and said, "Fuck me like you want to break me, Draco."
He barked a dark laugh, fisted her curls and yanked her head back, shivering when her breath hitched and her walls fluttered around him in response.
"Hold on tight, baby," was all he said before he pulled his hips back, ready to ruin her for anyone else.
xxx
HPOV
Up in her bedroom after a good two hours in the pool by the waterfall, Hermione and Draco were lying in her bed, exploring each other unhurriedly as if they didn't already know every single inch of skin like the back of their hands.
She was lying on her back, legs spread wide while Draco was nestled in between her thighs, propped up on one elbow with his cock buried deep inside her. But right now, neither of them was moving while he traced an old, faded scar on her cheek.
With the brunt of their desperation allayed after they'd well and truly gorged themselves on each other earlier, they were now enjoying the connection, the true intimacy of being together like this, more than anything else.
But even so, there was no way her body wasn't acutely aware of how snugly Draco was resting inside her.
As thick and long as he was, it meant that her walls were stretched to the limit, a delicious discomfort that had her aching to have him move. To spark pleasure inside her, ignite her body and push her over the edge until she was incoherent, screaming and seeing stars like earlier tonight at the waterfall.
"I remember this one," Draco murmured and pressed a kiss to her scar. "You got this the day in the supply closet with me when you made all the jars shatter in a fit of rage."
She nodded, but when he pulled out of her and pushed slowly back inside with a gentle buck of his hips, she gasped and curled her fingers around his shoulders.
His head lowered to suck a nipple into his mouth and he pumped his hips again, just once.
She traced the patterns of his Griffin tattoo over the hard muscle of his bicep—the one he'd gotten for her years ago—scanning every detail. "I think this is my favourite," she said and craned her neck to press a kiss to the inky skin.
He released her nipple with a pop and smirked at her. "Of course, you do. It's a Griffin."
She relaxed into the mattress, lifted her hand to sweep his hair out of his eyes and traced her thumb over a faded scar right above his eyebrow. Fuck… This man was unfairly gorgeous. "It's not just that," she challenged. "The detail on this one is incredible." And the fact that she'd sucked purple bruises into the inked skin earlier made her like it even more right now.
"Mmhmm," he hummed and dragged his palm down the flat plane of her belly, resting his splayed hand just below her navel.
A single, sharp thrust of his hips made her eyes roll and her back arch involuntarily.
Draco's chuckle made her eyes flutter open, searching for his. "I can feel myself right here when I—" He gave another hard thrust, this time instead of an explanation, and then he took her hand and placed it exactly where his palm had rested a moment ago. His hips pulled back and—holy shit!—when he thrust forward she could feel his cock push against her belly from the inside, right below her hand.
And then he slipped his fingers to the juncture where they were connected, swiping the pad of his thumb over her clit. Just once.
Her hips jumped in response and they groaned in tandem when her walls fluttered around him. As much as she wanted him to stop this madness and just fuck her until she was delirious, it felt way too good just having him inside her like this.
She never wanted tonight to end…
But maybe if he continued to rub her clit until she came, she'd be able to focus better on the way they were re-discovering each other.
Draco, however, had other ideas.
He pulled out of her and flipped her onto her stomach, a large hand on her back pressing her into the mattress.
He parted her legs with his knee and then, suddenly, the crown of his cock pressed against her entrance.
He entered her so slowly that she tried to push her hips back, eager for him to fill the sudden, overwhelming emptiness.
But Draco tsked before his palm met her arse with a sharp crack, the sting making her whimper and clench around him.
He laughed, low and sinful. "Amazing how there are some things about you I've completely forgotten over the years, Granger," he murmured in her ear and pushed a little deeper into her, barely scratching the surface. "For instance, the fact that you love it when I spank this luscious arse of yours until your skin is pink and smarting."
Another slap made her back arch and a keen broke free from her throat, the low pulse of her clit and the clench of her walls leaving her breathless as her arse burned.
"Good girl," he praised and her cunt fluttered again. "So fucking responsive and secretly depraved, aren't you?"
His hand landed harder this time, and this, combined with his praises had her teetering close to the edge of climax.
He pushed his cock even deeper when he leaned over her and whispered his lips across her ribs where three Norwegian Ridgebacks were tattooed into her skin. "Or the fact that a prim little bookworm like you has a praise kink so borderline scandalous that a few words leave you soaking the sheets beneath you." He pulled his cock all the way out of her and then slammed it back in, burying himself to the hilt. "Just. Like. Now," he said, punctuating each word with a thrust.
Draco leaned back to rest on his haunches, pulling her with him without slipping out of her. He belted one arm over her body, hand wrapping around her throat while the other gripped her hip. And then, as if he'd had just about enough of their fooling around, he started driving into her as if he couldn't get deep enough.
With his hand squeezing around her throat— just hard enough to send a gush of liquid to her cunt and a pulse of electricity to her clit while leaving her helpless to his whims—she shattered around him with a long, drawn-out wail that had tears prickling behind her eyes with the intensity of her orgasm.
Head listing forward and body melting in his arms while her walls seized forcefully around his cock, Draco continued to whisper the dirtiest praises into her ear as he kept her upright against his chest, wholly in control of the moment.
"I hope that after tonight you understand that this perfect little pussy belongs to me and only me."
His hand released her hip where the prettiest tattoo of his fingers would be blooming across her skin in the morning, and without warning, he slapped her clit just hard enough that she crested all over again, still riding the tails of her first orgasm.
"That's it, baby," he grunted in her ear, thrusts slowing as if he wanted to draw out her climax. "From here on out, I will be the only one to make your body sing. I will be the only one to bend your body to my every desire. And no one will love you and worship you the way that I do."
When his thumb pressed down on her clit, rubbing tight circles into the sensitive flesh, her vision turned white and her body bowed in his arms. She was helpless against the onslaught of pleasure that sizzled and sparked across every single neuron, lighting up her body like a fucking fireworks display. And she couldn't take another minute of this exquisite torture.
Surely her body was going to implode, because nothing that felt this good would let you walk away intact, right?
Tears sprung to her eyes and rolled down her cheeks when Draco flicked her clit and pounded harder, deeper, faster into her, leaving her gasping for mercy. "No more, baby, please!" she pleaded, thighs shaking and hands trembling. "It's too much. Way too much. I can't…I just can't."
His hips slowed down, taking mercy on her body, and with his lips pressed to her shoulder, he worked her body through the remnants of her orgasm until lucidity finally settled warm and heavy in her brain, her lids drooping but her mind alert.
She suddenly became aware of how her lungs burned in their quest for oxygen, and then her mouth popped open, gasping as much air into her lungs as she could manage.
When her breathing slowed, Draco gently tipped her head forward and made her watch as he lifted her slowly by the hips and slipped out of her inch by glorious inch.
"That's all you, love," he praised in her ear when a gush of liquid followed, leaking warm and sticky down her thighs.
Mesmerised, she watched Draco rub her cum into her skin before he asked, "Now tell me, my perfect little vixen, has anyone ever made you come so prettily for them?"
She shook her head; not sure she had the ability to form coherent answers.
Draco's fingers slipped up to her cunt, strumming her clit twice before he slipped his fingers into her. "I'm sorry, love. What was that you said? I don't think I heard you clearly." His fingers curled to stroke against her g-spot, forcing an answer from her.
"No!" she confessed. "No one, Draco. Just you."
"Thought so, love…" he chuckled and helped her onto her back. "Now, be a good girl and let me give you one more orgasm. I promise I'll let you get some rest after this."
The way he said "rest" made her realize that this man was nowhere near done with her.
And even though her body was so, so tired, satisfied and aching in the best ways, she couldn't help but agree to his request, eager to pull him over the edge with her.
He'd been so generous with her tonight, but behind that smug smile and molten steel eyes, she could see the way his muscles bunched and trembled with the need for release.
She slowly parted her thighs and invited him closer with the crook of her finger.
When he settled between her legs, he gripped her calf, pushed her knee up against her chest and hooked the other over his hip.
He slid home in a single stroke, a groan falling from his lips as he pumped so, so carefully into her as if she was made of glass.
She was captivated by the way his eyes squeezed shut and his mouth popped open as if being inside her was the best feeling in the world.
And maybe it was.
Maybe none of his other sexual encounters could compare to what the two of them shared, because the intensity of love combined with pleasure was the one thing no one else could ever offer him. Only she.
When Draco's head dropped to her chest and her name spilt warm and reverent across her skin, she shattered around his cock, pulling him over the edge until she was filled to the brim with his cum.
Sleepy and sated, Draco slipped out of her and rearranged her in his arms until her back was pressed firmly against his chest and his arms wrapped protectively around her.
"Love you, Hermione," he whispered and pressed the softest kiss to her shoulder blade.
"Love you more," she sighed the words contentedly and weaved her fingers through his where it rested on her chest.
xxx
After falling asleep in Draco's arms last night, Hermione had woken up in the early hours of the morning with a fierce need for him. And with bleary eyes and a sleepy grin on his mouth, he watched her straddle his hips and sink down onto him to soothe her ache for him.
She drifted into a slow awareness much, much later, body tender and loose-limbed, finding her bed empty and the ruined sheets cold.
But he hadn't left.
In fact, he was sitting in her Chesterfield in the corner of her room, watching her intently.
In his hand was a glass of firewhisky that he rested on his thigh.
The look in his eyes, however, made her stomach plummet and lurch so violently that she thought she might be sick.
His expression was terrifying.
"What's wrong?" she asked.
His eyes held hers over the rim of his glass as he tipped the last of the firewhisky into his mouth, hissing at the burn. And then, instead of answering her question, he asked, "We've been happy so far, right?" His voice was cold, just like his eyes.
She shuffled to the edge of the bed, wincing, and said, "Of course we have. Or, at least I have been."
He nodded, considering her with a blank look, and a cock of his head. After another minute, he said, "Things were going really well lately, and now that we've had sex, how long do you think it's going to take before we inevitably break up?"
She recoiled at the question, taken aback by the direction his thoughts had taken. "Why would you even say that?"
"Because that's how things work with us, isn't it? As soon as things start going well, it ends. It always ends, doesn't it, Hermione? There's always something or someone getting in the way of our happiness. Our relationship has always had an expiration date, whether we wanted it to or not."
"That's not how it works, Draco, and you know it. The choice to be happy together is ours. The ability to allow outside forces to influence us depends on how hard we're willing to fight for each other."
"But what if we make the wrong choices again?" he asked, jaw tight and fingers twitching as if he longed for nothing more than to light a cigarette while he warred with himself. "What if I fuck us up because I'm constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop? What if, this time, we cripple each other permanently? Until the only thing that's left of us is two bitter people with more pain than they know how to deal with?"
Unsure of what the right answer to his questions was, she said, "That's a risk you'll have to take if you want to be with me. A choice we have to make together to keep living in the moment and take nothing about each other for granted. You were the one who told me at Auchen Castle that there were no guarantees. But we also promised we'd fight for each other this time. That we'd communicate. I love you and I know you love me too. And that has to be enough, Draco. Because what else is there?"
A few hours later, Draco and Hermione were sitting in Abigail's office for an emergency counselling session. And while Hermione had not imagined that this would be how they'd be spending their afternoon, she should have anticipated Draco's reaction to their intimacy somehow.
After a double session with the same questions they'd posed to each other earlier staring them in the face, Hermione felt lost and hurt and scared.
Abigail watched them patiently, hands clasped together in her lap.
Would their love, commitment and their willingness to fight tooth and nail for their relationship be enough? For her and even more so for Draco? Would therapy and the tools it provides them be enough? Were they willing to take the risk?
"Hermione?" Abigail prodded gently. "What is your response to these questions?"
"I am one hundred percent willing to take the risk. I love Draco too much to even entertain the alternative."
"And what do you want, Draco?" Abigail asked him. "Do you feel your relationship is worth the risk?"
He curled his hand over his mouth and heaved a long breath into his lungs.
Her heart pounded a terrified rhythm in her chest and her stomach churned with nausea.
The moment he turned to Hermione on the lumpy couch, she could see his answer written plainly across his face, even before he said a single word.
A/N: How do you feel about this chapter?
Are you happy, mad, worried?
Let me know.
The epilogue will include something different and is going to be quite a bit longer. Maybe around 60k words like some of the previous chapters. Still playing around with the chapter.
See you Saturday
x