I love the way silk slides within my fingers and the way it cools my burning skin. Slick and enthralling. The prefect mixture to lace. Silk and lace. Lace and silk . . . What a perfect pair. Tantalizing black lace upon my skin, green silken sheets caressing my body as the warm summer breeze drifted from within the darkness of outside.
Memories . . . so many memories . . .
Forbidden kisses upon slick skin. Cold hands along warm thighs. Love bites, so hard, so raw, leaving tell-tale marks upon my skin long after the morning sun had risen to warm the silken sheets, long after his warm body had left my side. Still they burned me, marking my neck, my chest, my thighs, long after the morning dew had kissed my eyes awake.
Memories od passions long passed, in the heat of the moment, under the palest of moons. Memories of first loves first heart aching love making,, long signs and harsh grunts. So quietm so sweet, so secret, it left me pondering if those stolen moments ne fact or fiction. NIghts that held my attention as they seemed to take lifetimes to end, and eternities to begin. He held me captive, his gaze, mesmerizing, increasingly so after our scorching first night, when we learned eachothers looks, tastes. Learned of the others desires.
Ah, such desires we held, hungry beasts, we seemed to be. More, more, more our bodies cried out for. We sought, with a desperate, aching need to satisfy what we missed. Such a love our bodies sought to take from another. Night after night, upon the same silken sheets, so many times, that even the lace that trimmed the sheets, began to smell of you, of me, of us, and our laborous love making. Spinning, twirling, whirling, was my mind as those long nights.
Even now, I long to taste the sweetness of your lips upon mine, your thickeness upon my tongue. I long to tear your shirt from your body, to unlock your desire from with. To see you look into my eyes, and hear you call out my name to the heavens. I long for you to claim me once again. Make me admit, as I had so many summers ago, that my body is yoursm as it has always been. Jest not, because one sound sprung forth form your lips, and everything that I am is yours.
The stars have missed us, this I know. Their entertainment now, will never compare to what it was like, six summers ago, when you, were my love, and I, was your desire. We did things, such things that would make even the most tainted of men blush. Such things that made me wish, that this, this us, that we, could have lasted long after those summer moments. Moments where we stole time from right under our societies strict hand, and used such time for leisure, as a young woman and young man of seventeen should.
No one will know of the short time that we spendt loving eachother. No one would believe, that someone like him, would ever have touched, someone like me.
No one would ever believe that Hermione Granger was, at one point in time, Draco M alfoy's lover.