Author's Note: WOW, such a long time since an update, I am so sorry! School has been wiping me clean out! Love you all xoxo
Chapter Eighteen: Dinner For Two
"I don't know if I can go out like this."
Ginny, standing in the doorway with an apron tied round her waist, repeated the same words she had all day.
"Yes you CAN. You spent so long working up to this! So get it into your head. There's going to be nobody to impress but him, no Harry or Ron. And trust me, he would be impressed if you were wearing a potato sack, but he's gonna love the effort."
Slumping in front of the mirror, only doubts were persistent thoughts; Hermione could only pick out flaws she saw in herself.
"A potato sack? Why do you say that?"
"As much as I did want to hate the git, when he was over it was very clear he cares for you a lot. And that he's different. He cried in our living room for Merlin's sake, must have all his bottled up emotions spilling out now he doesn't live with Lucius."
"I suppose…."
This thought failed to warm her, because she already knew he cared. Echoes of small boobs, bushy hair, too pale were resonating in and out of her ears, and in a fit of anxiety, she smashed her fists against her head. Then fell back onto the bed, where all her dress options were laid out. She'd changed approximately a thousand times, and now sat in boring knickers until she could finalize the decision.
It was date night. One that was long overdue. And she had spent far longer than she'd care to admit plucking eyebrows, painting nails, shaving legs and elsewhere, and applying lotions for smooth skin. Yet still felt lacking.
"Even so, it's not a question of him liking me anymore. I want to shag him, and that is mostly based on appearance to jumpstart a libido. He's used to being in the company of immaculate Slytherin girls, whose hair is ten times more lustrous than mine, while their makeup makes them look like dolls, and their bodies are perfect, and they know how to act in the pretentious restaurant he's likely taking me to, and – "
Ginny was sick of this conversation, and though she longed to start preparing the fancy roast she intended to share with Harry tonight (A Molly Weasley specialty), she recognized a meltdown waiting to happen.
"Hermione. You're beautiful! Smart, funny, etcetera! And considering he was trying to get away from those girls, you're a far cry better not being 'perfect'," Ginny rolled her eyes, stepping into her room to sit next to her sprawled out frame.
"I guess…I just feel overwhelmed. He always shows up looking effortless, and then makes an actual effort by trying to be thoughtful. Even tonight, he's the one planning it. I'm always busy nowadays, I couldn't have if I wanted to. I feel like I need to make it special."
"Don't feel obligated to fuck him, that's not the only way to make it 'special'. It's not supposed to be tit for tat, Merlin."
"I don't feel obligated, I want to. Like, really bad. Like…with Blaise it was only because I had a massive dry spell and he's fit, but now….," she contemplated. "…every time Draco looks at me, I'm reminded of the fact that nobody`s ever really matched the same intensity level that's contained in his eyes. Even if he simply touches me, it drives me crazy. That's…..never happened to me before."
Never in her life had Ginny heard Hermione talk about somebody, let alone a bloke this way. In such a worrisome, vulnerable tone. Trying to pick her brain in school about who she fancied was the equivalent to stopping a fire by throwing handfuls of ice at the flames. Sure, she was frantic about solving problems. But relationships are a constant, they aren't something you can fully control, and the feelings she had must've been seriously freaking her out if she could barely handle her wits because of lust.
Ginny's voice was drastically leveled when she next spoke. "Hermione, you're going to be fine. Just let it happen, and if it was meant to, it will. If you two were counting on tonight to get laid, you might be disappointed if it doesn't happen. You can't just plan to have sex with someone, surely even Malfoy isn't that clinical. What have you done anyways that you're so anxious of this? You haven't only made out have you? I saw those hickeys on him those weeks ago, don't deny it."
Hermione sighed, then turned onto her stomach like a petulant child and mumbled what she hoped she'd never had to reveal.
"I sucked his dick…I saw him naked on our first date. Is that weird?"
"Everyone is different in their intimacy," Ginny replied evenly.
"He's seen me topless too, I don't know. I'm scared for him to…you know. Touch me down below, or use something else besides his fingers…."
A grimace is what she saw on her friends face as she got up again, realizing smushing her face into the covers would only ruin her makeup.
"What? Shall I be less vulgar? I thought you wanted me to be more upfront," she said, sitting on the edge of her desk chair, grabbing a comb to once more run it through the hair she so desperately had attempted to straighten and then curl with rollers.
The invitation he'd delivered was vague at best: "Dinner tonight, fancy dress if you so please, pick you up at 8. No excuses."
Draco had become insufferably more resolute in his actions since she told him they could date. Texts along the vein of "I'm coming to your office, and I'm taking you for lunch", "Don't want to wait til tomorrow for coffee, I'm bringing it your flat, Potter there?" would come in every other day, and she was starting to feel a bit claustrophobic.
She recognized he was trying to pull all the stops, that he was genuinely happy to see her, unlike Blaise, who insisted on control. It was merely beginning to scare her, his confidence level seemed to have peaked back up again, whether it was for show or not, she doubted she would ever be able to even speak to him with a clear mind if charming was his default setting.
"Yeah, I do. Just….it's Malfoy," Ginny shuddered, then, after a tip of silence, she found herself overwhelmingly curious. "So was it big?"
"Ginny!"
Despite her best efforts, Hermione giggled, smudging her lipstick below her natural lip line as she applied it.
"Look, I know why you don't want to know about Harry in the sack, but that doesn't mean I never wonder about all the men you've fancied," she stuck out her tongue. "And back to the point, he's a damn virgin, in case you forgot you told me. And he's never dated anyone! You just have to relax and let him explore you for himself and give him direction. As for his pleasure, you could lick his eyebrow and he'd find it sexy"
"Maybe," she shrugged, not willing to reveal that the idea of him experimenting elevated her stress, not lowered it. Plus, she didn't think she could live up to the expectation of being a great first bang. While other girls may find it appealing and 'cute' that their boyfriends have them first, the urge to please was tenfold over how she normally felt.
"Not maybe, yes definitely," Ginny insisted, then began sifting through her dresses that rested in a pile. "And I'm going to narrow down this mountain to two choices, you get to make the final decision."
"Thanks Gin."
Wiping her chin clean of the deep red she'd chosen, she inhaled a deep breath, then slammed the Sleekeazy's hair potion in her drawer. Exhaling, she stood up and left her face alone, her pin-up inspiration as seamless as it would get.
"You want a thorough description of his package, or shall I be concise?" she then dared ask, slinking to the other side of her room.
Maybe what she required to become more secure in herself was the ultimate breath-taker; her fancy lingerie. If anything, perhaps if he paused to longingly stare at her in lace, she'd have time to run away should she develop a bad case of cold feet.
"Oh my god, you're actually going to spill!" Only slightly off-put by how wide Ginny's eyes had become, glistening with joy, Hermione let her finish. "I'm so proud. You know we can totally share sex tips if you want, you're always so zippy-lipped. Just have to keep names and specific turn ons from the equation, and we're golden."
"Maybe once I've actually had it again…" she trailed, sliding open her closet to snatch that damn navy bustier she forgot she'd even bought. Whipping off her bra, she turned away from Ginny to attempt to squeeze on into it.
Her preoccupation for the past fortnight or so was Dragon Rights, and then aiding Florean Fortescue in a miniscule legal battle over claims to his ice cream recipes. Now that she had time to be vain, it was all-consuming, and seemed almost harder than scouring ancient volumes of books.
"Okay, I want comparisons. Was it bigger than the others? More aesthetically pleasing?" she winked, which made the air a lot more uncomfortable.
"Uh…."
Lacing all the ties with slight difficulty, she settled down on the mattress again to steady herself. Gentle hands skimmed her back to help; which was nice, yet the proximity of Ginny made her more reluctant to speak about penis size.
"It was…." And odd flashbacks of his cock raced through her vision before answering. Of licking it up and down, her tongue gliding down the smooth skin, of him moaning as she tried to get it all the way inside her mouth. And then it was easy: "It was nice. Really nice…God, this is weird to explain. I think Viktor was average overall, proportionate, but he used it really well….I mean, we slept together the most. Blaise definitely had the longest, but Draco's is…well, ahem, pretty thick and….Oh, shut up!"
Blushing cheeks had caused the sly look to cross Ginny's face, who found her flustered appearance amusing: "Did I say something, love?"
"No, just…god. Stop looking at me like that!" she wailed ever-so-slightly, as Ginny finished securing her loosely into her corset.
"But it's so adorable when you talk about cocks," she patted her on the shoulder.
"Adorable? Oh god," She stood up, deciding to change into white stockings instead of having bare legs. "We're not talking about cocks anymore if you're going to condescend me into oblivion."
Ginny slunk off the bed holding her options in hand, nudging Hermione against her dresser as she caught up to her.
"Condescend? Are you joking? Darling, you have more dick experience than I do. I slept with Dean like, twice, and that was far from pleasurable. Harry is the only other boy I have. You got Viktor, Blaise, Dean, Cormac, Ron – gross, by the way - and soon, little Malfoy under your belt, lest you think that's 'nobody'. Now, do you want the tight long-sleeve red dress, or the looser black one that makes your boobs look big?"
The realization she was about to have bedded 6 men sparked something in her. Even though she may be more bookish in temperament, she could be a sexual temptress, and more than that, was attractive and appealing. This is something she often forgot, and presently it gave her a jolt of courage that she could do this, and do it well. Draco must want this as bad as she by the way he acted. It was only different now because she was going to be his first. Clearly, she was no novice where he lacked. But if she was as nervous as he might be and couldn't calm down, guaranteed it would be terrible. So she vowed not to be.
Like she'd just finished a particularly hard essay question, everything fuzzy was cleared; and she snapped out of it.
"I'm being stupid. You're so right. I think the red one?"
Smiling, she shook her head. "Nah, not stupid. You're far more reserved than me when it comes to talking, and more calculated before making decision. That ain't a bad thing. But just remember to keep it nasty and book-free in the sheets. And yes, the red one because you picked it!"
Shoving the black back onto the rack, she helped Hermione step into the scarlet stretchy cotton dress so it wouldn't ruin her facial efforts.
"What do you think I do? Talk about politics while I ride the bloke? Give him an exam about my favourite oral techniques once we're done? I'll keep it tasteful and exciting, not nasty."
Ginny collapsed into a fit of giggles onto the mattress before kicking up her feet and standing back up. "You are hilarious. No, you look hot. I have a really pretty gold chain to match, want shoes?"
"Ugh, I love you, what would I do without you?" She lunged at Ginny and engulfed her in a hug, feeling an easy smile cross her lips for the first time all day "Ahhh! Now I'm excited. You know what, I have those stilettos from Bill's wedding, I think those will be fine, we're doubtless going to be walking much."
"Okay, okay, good, be right back!"
As Ginny scampered to her jewelry box, Hermione grabbed her heels, when there came a knock from the foyer.
It was 7:30, and though Draco was being secretive about their dinner destination, she knew he'd a least have the decency to warn her he was coming.
More self-conscious at how glammed out she was, she tottered to the door, opening it with dread to find Harry, Ron behind him munching on a takeaway kebab.
"Uh, hey, come on in," she waved, trying desperately to ignore the up and down staresshe was being given, Harry's in slight disgust, Ron's in unshielded wonder.
Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, her feet carried her to Ginny, searching for a solace she hoped she could grant her from judging eyes. Her stomach bubbling with a happy apprehension as she saw the gleeful look her best friend passed her once she got to her bedroom.
Mayfair
The candles were ready to be lit, the table was set; everything was good to go , all that was left was to get dressed.
Pacing inside, his twisting insides were starting to get the better of him as he examined his reflection. A new haircut and a spritz of cologne, even the nicest of blazers, wasn't going to make up for the fact that he never had done this before, it was the first time he'd had a 'dinner for two'.
"Pathetic. I am absolutely pathetic."
Regardless of how he felt, he certainly could at least downplay his worries by looking damn good. His outfit of choice was a pair of red trousers stitched with black, along with a burgundy blazer over a white t-shirt. Cursing himself relentlessly as he fired Hermione a text he'd be there soon, he felt his pulse racing, running a hand through his newly transformed locks.
"Never been on a dinner date, never had a girlfriend. You go to huge parties every other week, and you're a bloody Malfoy…"-
Well, being a pureblood aristocrat was a fact had he begun to feel slightly discomfited with all the stigmas attached to him as he walked into a room with his namesake, and the grimaces he was shot. He felt it apt to forget about his 'prestige' altogether. His parents hadn't bothered to call or apologize for what happened so many nights ago. Like he'd ever apologize to the Parkinsons first, or ever.
He refused to back down about what he'd said to his father, but he was willing to concede that he'd reacted harshly. Sure as hell though, he wasn't going to surrender the white flag if he wasn't.
"Fuck it."
The little ting from his mobile confirmed Hermione was ready to go, so even though he was not, shoes were donned, a wand was grabbed, and he Apparated into the dusk to Kilburn.
There was a terrible moment of anticipation that he felt entering the building in a regular fashion and buzzing for this girl he liked so much. A sense of propriety is what he felt would be needed right now (and maybe a smaller part of him longed for one last chance to settle going up in the lift).
"Granger/Weasley residence?"
She was coy, teasing even. This did not help, not one bit.
"Oh hello, I was wondering if you could permit me to come up pick up a one Miss Granger?"
Somehow he managed to remove the tenseness in his voice to rival her playful inflection.
"I think that can be arranged."
And then she was gone, and he was allowed to go up. Pressing number 3 in the elevator, the ride was not nearly long enough as inadequacy of his plan was beginning to make him doubt everything he had in store.
"I should've asked her where she wanted to go. What if she bloody hates it? Fuck, too late now…..Merlin, maybe I should quit talking to myself."
Clearing his throat, smoothing down his jacket, he took twenty steps to flat 15 and tapped firmly with his fist.
There was noticeably more than one person talking behind the thin walls, and he only crossed his heart that Ginny was wishing her luck as the speech ceased from the knock.
For the past three weeks, Hermione had been in work-mode; cardigans, stress-filled hair, and no makeup her trademark look. When she opened the door, a sexy siren version of his new girlfriend greeted him. Of course he found the low-maintenance much more appealing than having an always-immaculate Pansy clone strutting around day after day, but damn if she didn't clean up good. Didn't clean up fantastic.
It was highly likely that he was leering, but he couldn't tame his gaze, which wandered up and down the curves of her body, imaging how it would look without a nice dress, longing for the bare skin of her legs tangling with his in between the confines of his bed.
Leaning against the frame, she toyed with a stray tendril that lay along her collar, appearing both pleased at his reaction, and shy.
"Maybe a bit too over the top?" She was chuckling, blushing now at his expression.
"I'm….speechless," he replied truthfully, rubbing the back of his head.
The smile she returned was well worthhis embarrassment.
"Good, it took all day, though I'm hardly supposed to tell you that," she whispered conspiratorially. "Uh, just give me one moment, I need to grab my bag. You can come in, you know."
Reluctantly he stepped inside, searching for signs of other life, when the shriek he'd been waiting for was made.
"Draco, your hair!"
"Maybe a bit too over the top?"
Smirking, he relished when she leaned in, jaw agape, to run her hands through his tresses, which were swept to the front.
Sick of the near-white, he'd wanted a change; just for kicks, just to see. Booking an appointment at a salon, his hairstylist had dyed his hair (in awe of the natural hue) from 'platinum' to 'sunflower'. Whatever the hell that meant.
It was very subtle in change, but not to people who'd known him since he was a snotty 10 year old.
"No…it looks great. It's just…I can't believe you did that. I've never even dyed my hair before."
"What is it?"
Harry and Ron peered out from the comfort of the living room, while Ginny tottered in to the front. Dramatically slapping her hands to her cheeks once she got there to witness Draco in full light.
"Holy Merlin, you are proper different. No longer a clone of dear old Dad."
"That was the aim," he replied, feeling overwhelmed by the gawks from her and from his arch-enemies peeking from across the house.
"You actually seem nicer with that hair, is that weird to say? Like, you wouldn't have a soul that's black as ice?"
"Ginny," Hermione scolded quietly, turning on her heel to grab her purse ASAP.
But he laughed.
"That is exactly what I was going for."
A disgusted tick could be heard from someone in the other room; Draco ignored it. He was too preoccupied with Hermione's swaying hips and the curve of her backside; he wanted to rip her stockings clean off.
"Alright, let's go," she practically shoved him onto his knees as she reappeared, knocking him with a curiously giant black bag on the chest before he could say anything else. "Bye, have a nice dinner!"
The door was shut, and the muffled "You too!" from Ginny almost went unheard.
"You look so good."
Now that they were out of sight, Draco couldn't help but trail his fingers from her chin all the way down to her waist. Curling Hermione in with a bite that surprised her, he leaned in close, could taste the Chanel No. 5, and planted his lips on her neck very gently. But he couldn't catch the fever she`d brought just yet; he pulled away just in time to see her eyes roll back to their rightful place.
Wrapping arms around him, she meant to attack him back, but he dodged her so the kiss landed on his cheek, and whispered: "But why such a big bag?"
"Maybe I planned on spending the night with you," she replied, deciding to play dirty if he was, "maybe the entire night. Maybe I want to wake up to you the next morning and want to have a change of clothes that are more comfortable."
With that she slunk away to the elevator, beckoning him with a scrunched finger: "Now where are we going? And by the way, you look incredible too."
"You are not nice," he beamed, sliding through the doors with her once the lift was at their level. "But we needn't have come in here, we're going to Apparate."
"Oh?"
A twinge of excited anxiety filled her insides, and before she could do anything more, he shuffled behind her and held his hands over her eyes.
Though she folded her arms, he could feel her mouth spreading into a grin: "If you must."
Once they made it down to the bottom, Draco was very glad there was nobody in the vicinity. Ensuring her eyes remained shut, he removed his hands to his wand, and held on tight.
Pop.
Warm breezy air swept over Hermione's body, as he let her go: "Eh voila."
The great reveal was even more unexpected than Hermione was expecting. A pompous French restaurant with 5 forks, likely, a quiet and tasteful Italian eatery, a grand possibility.
No, instead they were in Draco's home, on his balcony. With a flick of the wrist, the many candles that lined a circular table went aflame. In the centre was a pot full of chocolate; three plates of fruit surrounded it.
A lowered bench for them to sit on rested on one side only, a touch Hermione appreciated. Knowing he wanted her to be right beside him.
When she didn't comment on anything, he slowly wandered to plunk down onto the seat and patted the spot next to it.
"I feel kind of bad that you dressed up so fancy, but I figured that you wouldn't really be the type who wanted to go to some hotel restaurant with a name you can't pronounce. Well, you probably could, but I was never that great with foreign languages. And now I get you all to myself."
It was now Hermione's turn to be speechless.
"You know me so well," she replied with amazement as she tiptoed over in her now unnecessary heels.
"Oh, please," he waved her away, and she was secretly pleased by the way his smile shone, drawing her closer as she sat down too. "Your favourite spot in Hogwarts was the confines of the library, never the spotlight, dear. It was incredibly obvious you were uncomfortable under all the stares on Viktor's arm at the Yule Ball, and all the times you popped up in the Quibbler the days after Pottermania was the talk of the town for a million years. I imagine the stance hasn't changed?"
"No, it hasn't," she agreed, blushing under the correct character assessment he'd given her. "I'm quite excited by the way. I haven't had fondue since I lived at home. Ginny and I burned ours trying to make it, so we scrapped that pretty quick."
"Good, it's about the extent of my cooking skills; which is about at a Level 1."
The little fork in hand, he dipped a melon into the pot and offered it to his date. Hermione opened up and bit into it, savouring the taste, but savouring more so the contented look on his face.
"Mmm. Not what do you want? Strawberry, kiwi?"
"Surprise me," he murmured, grabbing herand resting his head against her back.
Instead of accepting her cocoa-covered cantaloupe, he brushed his lips against her skin, trailing kisses up and down her exposed nape.
Shivering, she dropped the utensil, and curved her head so she could catch his mouth on hers.
"You're practicing very poor table manners," she teased in between smooches, allowing him to hold her in his grasp. "And I thought you were the one who wanted a surprise."
Pulling away, the gaze was there again; the one where that made her feel like she was the only thing that existed in his world, that stopped her brain from working properly. The way the grey in his eyes were soft but the flecks of blue smouldered causing her chest to constrict; "I just want you to have a nice time."
"I generally do when I'm with you," she managed to reply once she caught her breath. Then she laughed, and threw her head back. "I didn't think I'd ever hear those words come out of my mouth."
"Neither did I."
He was smirking, yanking her back into his arms to rest her head on his chest.
After a moment of watching the streets below, she tangled her fingers into his, playing with the hem of his shirt.
They spent a few minutes absent-mindedly picking at the meal, sitting in silence with only street noise and little chewing sounds surrounding them.
"I'm glad that they did." She looked up to Draco, her teeth peeking through her lips in a grin as she interrupted the hush. "You know, I've been waiting for this. Just being here with you.I know I've been so busy…the best moments in the past few weeks with you were the best, even if they were brief. Since we went to the Weasley's, it's as if everything's been so perfect don't know if you feel that way too. The only thing missing was being able to spend time with you."
This admission cause him to become frozen. Watching her soft curls dance up and down her back, the way her face seemed brighter than the candles alight on the table, and the lights on inside, Draco suddenly became overwhelmed at the idea that maybe he might mean as much to her as she did to him.
That she was being so candid proved it, because he always forgot how she was one of the only people willing to do that in his life.
And then the smirk faded, he leaned away, leaving him to clear his throat and cover up how he felt as he was always accustomed to doing.
"I forgot a bottle opener, be right back."
Hermione watched him as he got up, too abruptly, grabbing the champagne bottle and wrinkled her brow. She decided to ignore it, reading too much into something was what she always did, and poked a melon in the chocolate.
As she repeated the action, he came back, sitting down further away than before. The golden liquid was poured into flutes, and as Hermione took the glass, she was examining his body language: Rigid.
"So it's good?" he asked, plopping a watermelon piece down the hatch sans chocolat. "I got the mix from the Cocoa Exchange, I remember you said you liked it, but I'm unsure if that's what you're supposed to use for fondue."
"No, no it's great…"
Adding more strawberries onto the plate with the blackberries, she pecked him on the cheek. He stilled, then returned the gesture before standing up, shoving a hand into his pocket.
She heard the lighter click off and a heavy inhale as he leant over the rails, facing away from her: "Sorry, haven't had a chance all day for one. This will tide me over for the night, I think," he apologized, ashing his smoke off the into the atmosphere.
"Draco….are you ok?"
Spinning round, it was clear he was caught off guard by the inquiry by the way his hands shook, despite his calm expression.
"What do you mean? Of course I am," he smiled. Quite unconvincingly, eyes wide with dilated pupils.
"It's just – you went from snogging me passionately to distancing yourself in a manner of two minutes. And you've only smoked around me when you're a bit discomfited. Is something bothering you?"
That she read him so easily was not an aid in clearing his fretting.
"Well," he glanced down at his feet, shifting uncomfortably in his blazer, "I'm just…nervous. I'm nervous."
"What about? Come here," she beckoned him back to his seat, patting the spot as he had done with a small grin.
Instead, he tossed the cigarette into an ashtray and moved to lie back onto the large ottoman a short way across the balcony. Turned on his side, he surveyed Hermione, who met his stare with concern. And when she did, he sprawled across it on his back instead.
Waiting for a reply was pure torture, and a million reasons why he might be having a hard time raced through her head. Snatching their drinks, she got up tentatively and rested beside his legs, sitting, waiting for him to talk.
"Is it about work?" she prodded, watching his breathing become more erratic as her knee grazed his calf. "You know you don't have to say anything, but I can offer advice. Is it something to do with your parents, is that why you dyed your hair? Have they done something to – "
"No," he interrupted, throwing up a palm. "No," he said again, and rested it on her thigh, observing the sky. "It's not them. They've basically ignored me since the outburst."
He grabbed his champagne from her and downed it in one go, then sighed.
"I'm fine without them, for now. I just have been realizing I'm so used to bottling how I really feel up, at least, when it's positive. I haven't been sure why until lately. With you it's like – for some reason the filter was never there, I don't have any trouble telling you anything. I know you won't toy with my vulnerability and use it. Yet I find myself still trying to hide my happiness sometimes still, even though it's the wrong reaction, one I've been attempting to suppress."
She suspected he wasn't quite finished, but when he opened his mouth again, she wasn't ready:
"I like you a lot, Hermione. Much more than I've ever liked anybody else before. And it's scary. Not because I'm throwing my feelings out there for you to take, not because I feel like I'm drowning in all this change. As I said, leaving the family home has made me eons better, I think. And I'm happy."
"Then – what is it?"
"I'm most scared because I'm afraid – I'm afraid," he choked out, keeping his voice steady, "that you might actually take my affection. And then…realize that it isn't enough."
He didn't stop searching for Orion's Belt long enough to notice Hermione bending over him. Taking his glass to rest it on the deck, she cupped his chin with both hands, kissing him as deeply as possible so she could convey some kind of reassurance in him.
"I like you a lot too," she told him, stroking his cheeks with her thumbs as she drew back, forcing him to look into her eyes. "And that is a completely normal feeling, constant inadequacy. Just try to show me you care, I know it's going to be enough."
"R-really?"
"Yes. Draco, I experience the same thing every time you walk through the door looking so handsome, every time you talk so openly to me, and every time you look at me, really pay attention to what I say. It unnerves me…but I love it. I really do."
A weight was lifted from somewhere inside Draco's chest, and then, a thought filled it.
"I'm glad about that…really. But, I don't understand. Who wouldn't talk to you…listen to you?" he asked, deciding to sit up, and she almost wanted to laugh at how genuinely confused he appeared. "Wouldn't….look at you that way?"
She bowed her head for a split second, before gathering the nerve to continue.
"You have a special look for me, Draco, I hope I have one for you too," she grinned. "And it's not that other boys didn't listen to me, it's that you are the first one that actually adds to the conversation. That doesn't respond with a nod and a smile that I can see straight through, knowing they're only humouring me."
At the mention of a special look, Draco's cheeks turned a bright pink, but the smirk came back, a more gratified version.
"Well I promise to never pretend to be interested in what you have to say if I'm not. I imagine you'd do the same for me. I must say I find wand lawsin Britain from the 17th century particularly boring."
She let out the tiniest of chuckles: "And the rules and regulations of Quidditch are generally at the bottom of my interest list. But you do look pretty nice when the wind is running through your hair and you're soaring up and down the pitch riding on that Nimbus. Your concentration face, I've noticed, is a bit sexy. "
With a piqued brow, he took the opportunity to drag her on top of him: "Oh, really? I think you're a bit sexy all the time. You know, you are a fantastic woman, Hermione Granger."
He kissed her, while the words he had spoken reverberated in and out of her ears, their sincerity and their intensity inciting her insides aflame. Now straddling his waist, he was about to ask questions about her subtle move when he caught sight of the lust in her copper eyes; the last thing on either of their minds was speaking.
She melted into him and it was only a matter of minutes before snogging was not sufficient enough. As much as adventurous tongues and bruising necklines were, it served as only a tease to the fantasy that they both had built up in their heads.
Shoving open his blazer, trailing his shirt up over his abs, Hermione aided Draco in wrestling himself out of them both, tossing them to the floor.
He was growing harder by the second, she could feel him pressing into her, the sensation made her long to scream, or whimper, or tear off the rest of his clothes. His roaming hands had wandered up and down her back, through her curls and lower again, til he was under the fabric of her dress, skimming the lace of her knickers and squeezing ever so gently the curve of her behind. Little moans directed to him made him shiver with uncontrollable anticipation, but he was riding solely on instinct now, and action based on the ferocity of his desire wasn't a tactic he wanted to enact.
Still, even with his hesitation, she was slowly undressing him, licking and biting her way to his trousers, the button and zipper of which she popped and pulled. She was fully dressed, but he was almost the opposite. Draco so wanted her permission, it was something Hermione hadn't ever given him yet, she was always the lead. It was so evident she wanted this, but could he deliver once he was given the ok? She was trembling as he ghosted his fingers over the bones of her hips; the last straw for him was when she licked his collar up to his earlobe, nibbling on it gently. He couldn't handle the tease any longer.
"Can I?" he begged frantically, tugging on the hem of her tight dress, his touch already well passed the covered territory.
A small gurgled titter escaped her lips at his look of desperation, and she nodded, sitting up slightly off his now very obvious erection to peel everything away as delicately as possible. Once he skimmed the last sleeve over her arm, it was impossible to contain himself at the mere sight of her warm bare skin, and the temptation to touch his body against hers. Flinging her clothes to the ground, he daren't look at what little she had left on, as the mere sight of her encased in a dark corset that had little structure to it was enough to cause him to envision ripping it off and nibbling at every inch of her he could.
"My god, you are unbelievable," he groaned against her shoulder that he nipped as he wrapped himself around her again, forcing his way up the back of her lingerie so he could dance his fingers up her spine. It was so she'd shiver, something he had found she adored in past experience. Pecking the exposed tops of her breasts, she found her vision becoming less clear as the pleasure took over.
Encasing his head with her arms, she wanted him back at her lips. They were fused together, it was hot and heavy, the way she liked it, and with lucky stars not at all awkward. If he had taken notes on what she liked, he'd definitely be receiving an Outstanding. She slid her body back up to his cock so she could grind against it even more.
"FUCK-"
He was yelping now, the sudden sensation focused on his most sensitive spot a surprise. The action frenzied him, he freed his hands from her so they could become uncontrollable. They ran to her face, to her thighs, as he pulled the back of her knees closer into him while her legs gripped against him. His fists held tightly onto her sheer pull ups.
"I want to get this off you right now," Draco admitted in between their messy smooches, snapping at the garters she had donned, plucking the delicately tied strings of her corset. "I want to see you undressed."
"Then do it," she breathed, pulling away from him, stopping the gyration with difficulty. "Undress me."
Clearing her sight from her tangled hair, she removed herself from him and sat beside his frame, heaving at the exertion. It was clear he was in either shock or awe – perhaps both – as he inched his way forwards to clutch the ribbon keeping her chest covered. She watched as his eyes flickered up and down her face to see her expression, from her eyes to her lips, never once leaving it to glimpse at her breasts or legs, as he told her "You're beautiful", and leaned in for a quick kiss.
Overwhelming it was, that he never removed his attention from her spirit to solely her body: maybe it was intentional, as a way to stop his growing lust so he could save it when he fucked her (as surely they were going to), but she suddenly found the revelation he had earlier; that perhaps he was falling for her as she was him.
His breathing steadied, and now hers increased.
As the last loop was loosened, his gentle work untying her fastenings and removing the corset to the floor, a gasp caught in his throat. Finally, his gaze lowered as he dipped his tongue carefully out to lick her nipples, already hard from the night air and her arousal. His hunger was returning, she could sense it, as his grasp became more rough when he added his hands to grab her soft flesh, and low guttural noises escaped from his throat.
"Be gentle," she instructed kindly, "here – wait."
She laid down across the ottoman, beckoning him back over her. Suddenly more at ease, she saw his confidence wane as he peeked at the lace that was still left on her, that was soaking and begging to be removed.
"Draco, just relax. Come here, I want you to touch me."
If she had snapped her fingers he wouldn't have returned faster. Pants still hanging around his legs, he straddled one of hers so he could caress her again.
"I know what I want….but tell me how you want it. Tell me what to do," he requested, knowing if it were up to him he'd bite hard and never stop sucking.
The gift of instruction turned Hermione on more than she'd every say; she was definitely a dominant.
"Roll your tongue in circles on my nipples…do the same with your hands for my tits. I like it steady and soft to start."
A good boy does what he is told. Draco wasn't one.
While he followed her advice, he wasn't as privy to rules as she was; he took turns kneading her breasts then trailing his fingers down her waist and back up again, adding tiny bites into his licks at long intervals. Getting past his great reluctance, the urge was to strong not to explore her down below, and he slid his eager fingers to stroke her wet slit for the first time. He didn't know how long he was playing with her but it didn't matter, he loved it. She loved it. Her reactions, untempered moans and the arching of her back so he had better access to her was enough to make a man split at the seams.
"God damn, Granger. I can't do this for much longer. I'm so turned on. I want to fuck you."
Being frank and straight is what led him to here, he may as well continue being honest.
``Yeah, me too."
"Wait – what?"
Shooting back up, the doe expression returned, Hermione copied her boyfriend's smirk, and pushed him off her legs. With great boldness, she took the edges of her panties elegantly in her grasp and glided them off her legs, along with the now useless garter belt.
"I think I'm going to leave these tights on. Now stop giving me that look and get your fucking pants off, Malfoy."
The heavens must have been singing inside his head, and he Merlin must've been on his side that he didn't cum right then in his boxers. But he whipped off his trousers in record speed, sitting eagerly for direction. He was shaking because of his craving to run a hand between her legs, but his brain was so paralyzed that he was so privileged to see all of her in her naked glory, and that she was such a minxin temperament. He didn't know what to do, but he was damn ready.
Taking his throbbing cock in her hands, Hermione decided there was no time to waste at his cry of pure pleasure. Though she desired more foreplay, this was all new to him, they had plenty of time for it later. And quite seriously, she just wanted his dick inside her so badly.
Leaning back, she told him to position himself overtop her.
"This is it," he huffed, sweating, observing her wet slit as if It was the eighth wonder of the world. "Do you want me to…?"
Somehow the vulnerability of Draco Malfoy gesturing to go down on her endeared her more than made her think he was some gawky 22 year old virgin.
"No, sweetheart, I really just want you pound me," she replied with cheek as his pinkness spread through his whole face to his neck. "I already cast all the necessary spells, and you did great leading up to this. We have plenty of time for everything else."
Draco, at this admission, was both pleased she was pleased, relieved she was prepared for safety, but ridiculously overcome with anxiety and longing. She had her legs spread, her firm grip on his cock and his waist indicating she was waiting for him to go. Missionary was not what he'd planned for, hoping she'd take the imitative to ride him for lesser embarrassment, but he wanted this like she did. So fucking bad.
Lightly clutching her thighs to further widen them, he let her guide his tip to her entrance, slick and prepared, a factor that when sensed by his sensitive skin, caused a delicious shiver to descended from the base of his neck to his spine.
"Ready?"
Catching her gaze at her inquiry, her encouraging smile and obvious desire that glistened in her eyes caused him to close his own and give in to all hang-ups.
With the first thrust, how this felt was indescribable, incomparable to anything he'd ever experienced before.
It was her taste, her kiss, and her laugh, just her all wrapped into one thing and amplified by a thousand.
Jaw dropping, his body tensing, he gasped loudly and forced himself to look at Hermione, who matched him in how he appeared. Her legs wound around his waist, her nails marking him on the back, pulling him closer to her as he grabbed her waist.
"Oh, Draco – fuck me, please fuck me."
She couldn't stand the delay, his reaction, his shaking like a leaf only served to fuel her desire even more.
Slowly pulling back, he drove himself into her again, going at a pace that built up the intensity. Already he was pulsing from the need to release, but now she was squeezing her lids shut, every thrust served her to dig her nails deeper into his skin, and her high pitched moans of 'faster' were something he could only oblige.
"Fuck, Hermione – "
"Yes, yes, yes – "
She yanked him to her, pressing her lips feverishly against his as she felt he was at maximum hardness.
Driving himself with full force now, he couldn't relent, but he was so close.
"I'm going to cum, Hermione," he murmured against her.
"Okay. I want you to inside me."
And with those words, Draco cried out with strangled a inhalation as Hermione felt herself feel full of him.
He collapsed on top of her, edging downwards over so she could hold him as he caught his breath.
"So how was that?" she asked him after she felt him calm, clutching the elbows he had placed beside each ear, as he stroked her hair and rested his head on her chest.
"Perfect."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. You're brilliant," he confessed, sighing into her, squeezing her tighter.
"You were good too," she praised, pecking him on his blonde head, Patting his arms with affection. "Did you want to get inside? Have some more champagne and watch a film or something?"
"Mmm, no. I want to lie out here with you forever."
Touched with his admission, she didn't respond, just cuddled him closer, I that was humanly possible. After a long lapse of quiet, Draco put his head up to utter one more thing.
"Maybe we can go for round two."
Laughing, she smacked him on the shoulder.
Then proceeded to kiss him hard again. Deciding she wanted this to last forever too.