Chapter 22
Hermione sat down at the dining table. The meal started with soup. She was hungry and not at the same time. She felt the same comfort wise, she felt both languid and wired. And not just a tad confused. The attraction to Malfoy had taken her by surprise, although now that it was front and centre, she wondered if it had been there on some level all along, because it felt different from attractions she'd felt towards other people.
Draco on the other hand seemed very calm and collected. There was no question that he was aware that she was responding to him. He was privy to their little secret, and they both knew that he would try it on later. Like a predator going in for the kill.
He did this all the time. This is what he did. This would be just another conquest for him. Maybe more than a conquest. There was something very uncomfortable about giving in to him, about admitting that she was attracted to him. Even just for the sake of admitting that he was attractive, just like every other girl kept on showing him.
There was also the fact that they had pretty much been arch nemesis or close to growing up. It felt disloyal to her younger self. When giving Draco Malfoy an inch would have been a resounding defeat.
But she wasn't her younger self, and they were not enemies. He was just a guy like any other guy, and she had nothing to fear in entertaining an attraction to him. Being attracted to people was what people of her age did, it was normal. She realised that feeling like he had some kind of victory over her was ridiculous and immature. Its not like it mattered in any context, what could he do with it, tell people? Everyone thought they were a couple anyway.
The only possible fall out would be that they both knew that something had happened between them, and if she could live with it, then she didn't give a damned what he thought about it. If it bolstered his ego by having another conquest, why should that matter at all to her? She didn't care about him, or what he thought about anything once she left this weekend behind. Its not like they were going to run in the same circles again. She was done with the Slytherins.
There was something very exciting about being attracted to someone just for the sake of being attracted. To feel the heaviness in her limbs, the slight vibration through her body in its readiness to respond with just the slightest look or touch. It felt a bit like drunkenness, but much more exciting.
The food tasted more nuanced. The wine was sweeter, and everything seemed to sparkle that little bit more. Not even the company was bothering her. She saw them through this haze of attraction that affected all her senses.
Malfoy was talking to Adrian. He was obviously enjoying the conversation because he was animated. She watched him as he talked, the little movements of his fork along to accentuate what he was saying. His skin really did look like porcelain, but not in way that detracted from his masculinity. There was not anything now or had ever been anything sweet and soft about him.
Occasionally she would catch sight of his eyes, and they would linger on her for a while. There was nothing soft in there either. Maybe that was why she had always been weary of him, because she knew there was a mind behind those eyes, calculating, observant and when it suited him, predatory.
She was used to sweet, and there was nothing sweet in this attraction. Maybe it was so strong in how it affected her because it didn't dress itself up as anything other than it was, just straight sex, nothing else.
Hermione looked around the table, watched the Slytherins in discussions around the table. Blaise was talking to the Danish girl. Pansy was vying for attention. Nott was talking to Flint, while the Greengrass sisters were discussing sisterly things. Her mental wanderings were interrupted by a touch on the outside of her forearm. The touch radiated out, giving her goosebumps running up her arm.
She turned her attention back to the gray eyes that seemed to lock her in place. She smiled, to which he closed his eyes for a second. His finger followed her arm down to her hand, stroking the outside of her little finger. A slight touch no one would read anything into. But it felt powerful to her, it radiated out and sparked electricity through her entire being.
She felt her own breath over her lips seemingly hotter than her own body. She had to make a decision. She either ran with it or she didn't. If she wasn't going to go with it, she couldn't go back to the room tonight.
The dinner wound down and the party moved into another room where most were having drinks and settling into the evening's activities. Malfoy acquired himself a firewhiskey. If he got drunk all bets would be off. Part of her liked the idea of leaving it up to him, but she knew that was childish.
"There you are." Pansy-bitch said. "That is a stunning dress."
"Thank you." Hermione said. It was stunning, there was no other way to describe it. She wasn't going to encourage the conversation, however.
"Italian, is it?"
"Not sure."
Pansy smiled. "Draco got it. He does have exquisite taste in most respects. Not all."
Hermione smiled tightly.
"I was sitting with Blaise and Birgitte. She is so accomplished. Her wand work is extraordinary. She can ping a ribbon at one hundred yards."
Hermione knew this conversation was designed to make her jealous, but honestly, tonight she didn't care about Birgitte's wand work, or Pansy's sniping. The knowledge that she was never going to hang out with Pansy again, just sent warm fuzzies all through her. Getting involved with the Slytherins had been interesting at first, maybe just because they were so different. The attention to appearance, the luxury and decadence, but it had worn thin. And Hermione acknowledged that she didn't care Pansy and her half veiled insults.
"Not a great conversationalist, are you?" Pansy observed.
"I guess I lack the inspiration." Hermione said. She refused to run away from Pansy but she could bore her into leaving. She didn't get the chance though, because Draco was approaching.
"Hello darling." He said and brought her close to his side. "Pansy, what are your plans for the evening? It is still young."
"I thought I would play cards for a bit." Pansy said. "Although I am open for suggestions."
Hermione tensed up. The stupid cow was hitting on Malfoy right in front of her. Malfoy gave her side a squeeze, which was a distraction in and of itself.
"I'm afraid we will be retiring early." Malfoy said. "Don't you think, darling?" He said turning his attention to Hermione.
"I think we have to." Hermione said coyly. "This afternoon left me a bit tired." That fully meant to imply that the afternoon had been spent doing exhausting sexual gymnastics. With an apologetic shrug she looked back at Pansy, who was obviously not impressed.
Pansy was about to say something, when Draco interrupted her. "In fact, I think we might turn in soon, or do you want to play cards too?"
"No." Hermione replied probably a little too quickly. Although on second thought, she had just agreed that she wanted to go up to their room and have sex. Which begged the question, did she want to go up to their room and have sex?
Her body was singing with tension and need. The heat was unmistakable and she wasn't sure she could cope with leaving this itch unscratched. It was just sex. It was naughty and it was just for the sake of it. The only reason for her not to do it was that she feared giving him the upper hand, but the upper hand for what, some childish game from back at school? She wasn't at school and she didn't really care anymore if he felt he gained something over her. He had nothing on her. If she backed away, she would be perpetuating the fact that there was some kind of power play between them.
"Let's go." She said. He raised his eyebrow slightly.
"You sure?"
She nodded. He took her hand and led her to the door.
Hermione turned and gave a little wave to Pansy. Now that her decision was made, things felt light. She couldn't stop smiling. She was a naughty girl, and she didn't mind one bit. They picked up the speed a bit as they reached the staircase.
They were barely inside the door when he pulled her close into a bruising kiss. It was hot and needy. His taste had become familiar to her over the last week or so. Heat exploded in her body. She wanted to be touched, and he had no problems complying.
His hands slid under the dress over her thighs, up to her waist bringing the dress up. He slid the dress over her head leaving her in just her smalls. His hands were so warm. He drew her into a kiss again as soon as the dress was gone. He explored her deeply before pulling back. His hands were on her neck, with his thumbs stroking her skin. She felt his eyes burning into her skin. He looked at her for a while, slowly bringing his hand down towards her breast. The thumb stroked across her nipple and she couldn't breathe.
Her mind was not working, but some part of her knew this was surreal. He slowly leant down and took her nipple in his mouth. She couldn't help a groan escaping. Her hands went into his hair as he tortured her aching nub.
His ministrations were sending deep pulses down into her body. She had never been this turned on before. Maybe the fact that it had been building in her since that afternoon, winding the tension tighter and tighter.
She wanted to feel more of him. He still had his jacket on and she tugged it off, leaving the deceptively soft white shirt. It wasn't skin, but there was something quite masculine about a warm body in a white shirt.
She felt her underwear slipping down her thighs. She was completely naked as he pressed her up his body and carried her towards the bed. She fell back on the covers, the cool sheets feeling wonderful.
He stepped back and looked at her for a while before starting to unbutton his shirt. He wasn't in a hurry even though she was dying for him to hurry this along. It was strange seeing heat in his eyes as he watched her. There was something confronting about it, but she didn't want to analyse it. She didn't want anything other than skin on skin, with the all consuming sensations that went with it.
He slipped the shirt off his shoulders and stepped towards the bed. He still had his black pants on. He leant over her and she groaned in frustration. She was ready for the culmination, but he still had his pants on. He wasn't done teasing her.
The warmth of his body on hers served as a nice distraction. Her legs slipped around him and drew him close. He kissed her neck, which was one of the little spots that just stopped her from being aware of her surroundings. She was just stuck there like a deer in headlights as he ministered to the sensitive skin on her neck.
She needed more. She tugged him up, getting him a little closer to where she wanted him, to where she wanted his hips. She needed him inside her. She needed to release this tension or it was going to combust her from the inside.
He kissed her again, his tongue moving into her mouth, stroking her. It wasn't enough.
"If we don't slow this down, its going to last two seconds." He croaked.
"I don't care." She managed to breathe out. "I can't wait."
He pulled back a bit and then was back, giving her what she wanted. He took his time entering her and she took him greedily. In fact, she came as soon as he was buried in her, sending almost painful waves of sensations racking through her body. Sensations that then kept coming with each thrust, having her pinned to the spot, just defenceless as the sensations assaulted her. It built again as his stroked became harder and longer. A last strong thrust seemed to fuse them together, making her come again.
He collapsed on her, and they stayed joined as they breathed out the exertion. Her whole body was languid. She wasn't even sure she could move even if she wanted to. That had been the hottest sex she had ever had. There had been no holding back at all, just need. She wasn't entirely sure why she had been so completely turned on, but she knew it had something to do with the fact that the nature of their relationship had always been adversarial. Something that had never been present in her relationships.
He rolled off her. "You are a very demanding girl, Miss Granger."
Hermione didn't know what to say, this was the point where things could get awkward. "I think at this point, you are just going to have to call me Hermione."
He turned towards her. "Wouldn't that change the nature of our relationship?"
She laughed. This was the part where they redefined their relationship, or lack of it at this point. Being a bit of a Cassanova, she wondered how he did it without giving the girls he slept with the idea that they were moving forward in their relationship. Then again, she didn't want to know. She didn't need to hear the same spewl he gave to every girl.
"You know I'm just using you for sex." She said. "Much as I would like to tease you about introducing you to my mother now that we are truly boyfriend and girlfriend, I just don't think I could pull off the necessary ruse. I am just not that good an actress."
"What, Miss Granger, are you embarrassed by me?" He teased.
"Absolutely." She said. "Bad enough my friends think I've lost my marbles, I'm not prepared to distress my parents."
"Did you introduce Blaise?" He asked. The conversation shifted a bit, including a sense of probing into the teasing.
"I never introduced him to my parents."
"Why not?" He asked. "Were you using him for sex too?"
She ignored the question. She wasn't entirely sure why he was interested in her relationship with Blaise. "I introduced him to my friends."
"But not your parents."
"We weren't together long enough for the issue to arise." She said. "And in hindsight, I think that is the position I will adopt, I was using him for sex."
"Obviously disappointing sex." He said with a snort.
"Oh, I don't know." She said with a grin. "It had a certain…"
"I sense a challenge." He said and pulled her towards him again. "See once you've been with me, you're pretty much ruined for other men."
"Is that right?" She asked as he lay down on top of her.
"I've quite gifted, you know." He grinned and then proceeded to tease the over-sensitised skin of her neck.
They had sex again. She rode him this time, controlling the pace and reach. A position that let them both watch the other. He was deep inside her and she loved the control she had over him. There was definitely something additional because she was doing it with him. It was putting something to bed, making her stronger. She loved watching the impact she had on him, as she watched his body contort with pleasure. But before long she had to give up control and become a slave to the sensation.
They had sex again some time during the middle of the night. Slow and needy.
And then morning was there. Hermione got up and washed. Her whole body smelled of sex. She was sore, but she didn't care. Her body felt fluid and sensual. She dried her hair with her wand and dressed.
Draco was still lying in bed with the sheet tangled around him. He was awake but not getting up.
"You're leaving." He said and put his arms behind his head.
"I thought I would go." She said. "No point hanging around until lunch or whatever time everyone leaves. So I guess we had a fight this morning and I took off. What should I do with all this stuff?"
"Take it."
"Thanks." She said. "I guess. Not sure I will have an occasion to wear it again, but thanks. It really is exquisite."
"I have good taste."
"In most things." She said, parroting Pansy from the night before.
She was ready to go. She didn't know what to do, whether she could kiss him goodbye. It would feel awkward and fake, so she didn't.
"Well, bye then." She said feeling uncomfortable. "Thanks for being my boyfriend for the week or so. Sorry if I kept you away from your usual activities. I'm not totally sure what kind of thing is going on between you and Blaise, but I hope you got what you wanted out of it. Last night was…nice. I'm going to go now. Bye."
She slipped out the door before he could say anything. It was awkward enough, she could save him from it and himself from whatever he said, although she was sure he'd had a million awkward moments like that before. She wiped him from her mind and started thinking about what she was going to make for dinner that evening. It felt like it had been ages since she'd spent a cosy evening at home. She needed to go shopping for ingredients, she might do it the muggle way. Go to Waitrose or something. Maybe even indulge a bit and wander through the food hall at Harrods or Selfridge, get some little exotic ingredient that would make it special.