Author's Note: I took a midterm earlier today, and now I'm up late finishing all the homework that I put off for studying… but I got lazy. So here's the next chapter for you guys! Still having a bit of trouble writing, though :/
Chapter 77
"Are you sure this is what you want?"
I hold back a sigh. "How many times are you going to ask me that?"
He frowns. "I've only asked twice."
"But I can feel it in every kiss, every touch," I say. "You're just waiting for me to tell you to back off, to tell you that I don't want this anymore. But it's not going to happen, Draco. I want this. I want you."
My words don't seem to have any effect on him, and I sigh, frustrated.
"Draco, you're killing the mood."
He leans down and kisses my forehead, and I automatically close my eyes. He gently kisses his way down the bridge of my nose and then touches his lips to each eyelid.
Then I feel his breath on my lips.
"I can fix that," he whispers.
Shivers run down my spine at his words. Is he finally on board, then?
I lift my head to kiss him and get a thrill as our lips meet again. This feeling just doesn't get old.
He works my shirt upward, and I break our kiss to tug it over my head. His lips claim mine as soon as my shirt is out of the way, and I plunge my tongue into his mouth, stroking and exploring. I run my hands up and down his sides and slide them up his back, learning the musculature of his torso, and realize that he's propped himself up so that we're hardly touching at all. No, this won't do.
When my hands reach his shoulder blades, I suddenly tug downward. But Draco's arms stay straight, and he lifts his head, opening his eyes to look at me. He seems amused.
"Are you going to make me ask you to touch me, Draco?" I huff.
He chuckles and kisses me again, then slowly lowers himself onto his elbows, bringing our lower torsos into contact. His skin feels so hot against mine, and I arch my back slightly to press against him.
I become aware of the bulge in his pants, and I begin to feel a little nervous.
"Don't be scared," Draco mutters against my lips. "If you ever want me to stop, just say the word."
I shake my head minutely. "No, don't stop."
His hands gently cup my breasts over the bra, and I stiffen slightly, despite myself. He pauses, eyes on mine, but I nod once to tell him that it's okay.
I run my hands along his shoulders and back, loving the way that his muscles tense up a little under my fingertips. I wonder what my skin feels like to him. Probably ridiculously rough, I realize reluctantly—Draco has unnaturally perfect skin.
His fingers rub my nipples through the bra, and I gasp, remembering that morning. My response makes him grin. Then he slides his hands around my back, and a moment later, my bra is gone. I instantly feel very exposed and shy.
He kisses my lips again and then works his way down my neck. I know where he's headed, and my belly clenches in anticipation.
I've always felt comfortable with my body, thought that I was about average. But I'm suddenly terrified that Draco won't like what he finds. I've heard of and seen the girls that he's supposedly been with—and with his looks and charm, he really could have had anyone he wanted. I know that I can't possibly compare to those absolutely gorgeous women…
"You're beautiful, Hermione," he murmurs against my skin.
Does he know what I was just thinking?
He nips at my collarbone and then sucks just beneath it to leave a love bite.
"You weren't using…" I begin, but my voice fades away—his lips and tongue are traveling downward, and it's becoming very distracting.
"I wasn't using…?" he prompts before continuing his slow journey down my chest.
As I try to remember what I was going to ask him, he reaches the valley between my breasts. I fight the urge to push him away and cover myself up.
Then I remember my question. "You weren't using Legilimency on me, were you?"
His mouth closes around my left nipple, and shivers run through me. My back arches involuntarily, and I'm hardly aware of the actual motions that he's making with his tongue and teeth—I only feel the ripples of heat that reverberate through my body.
I thread my fingers in his hair and bite my lip to stop myself from moaning.
Then he stops, and I feel him lift his head. Frowning, I lift my own head and see his eyes, dark with desire, staring up at me. Liquid heat pools between my legs at the sight of the blatant lust emanating from those deep pools of silver.
"Don't hold it in," he says in a husky voice. "Let me hear you."
Before I can respond, he lowers his head to my other breast. A small moan escapes me, and my cheeks flush. I'm rewarded with gentle nips around my areola, and I sigh at the sensation.
His hands are lightly rubbing circles on my lower back, staying in a respectful place. Ordinarily, I'm sure that I would have found it sweet, but right now, I just want more of his touch, and this… it almost feels like he's being prudish.
I slide one hand down his back and give his firm arse a squeeze. He thrusts his hips against mine and lazily flicks his tongue over my nipple in response, and I feel like he's slowly melting me into a puddle.
Then he slides downward, and two emotions war within me: disappointment that he's stopped creating those delicious sensations in me and nervousness for what's coming next.
"Draco…"
He pauses to look up at me, and I swallow hard.
From the look in his eyes, I can tell that he would do almost anything that I asked of him. I'm certain that if I asked him to stop, he'd back off immediately. If I begged him to fuck me into the mattress, I think he'd be able to put aside whatever reasons he has for holding back. He would kill for me—he showed that long ago. I hardly doubt that he would die for me as well.
Merlin, he really is… mine.
The realization terrifies me as much as it excites me.
"Hermione?" he prods in a low voice.
His tongue dips into my bellybutton, and I let my head fall back against the bed. Taking that as permission to continue, he kisses his way to my waistline. The bed rises as he slides off the end. Then I feel his fingers unbuttoning my jeans.
Oh, God.
He's touched me here before, but the fact that he's going to be conscious this time…
My breaths quicken, and he lowers the zipper slowly.
"I won't hurt you," he says.
"I know."
My voice sounds ridiculously shaky to me, and I wonder if he hears it, too.
He pulls my jeans down, and I lift my hips to help him get them off. Then his hands run up and down my bare legs, and I inhale deeply. I glance down and see that he's kneeling between my legs, eyes roving over my body.
As though he senses my eyes on him, he lifts his face slightly and fixes a predatory gaze on me. My mind tells me I should be wary of that look in his eyes, but my body tightens in eager anticipation of what he's about to do to me.
Without taking his eyes off mine, he lightly strokes me through my underwear. I tense up as a tingle of pleasure runs through my body.
He grins. "Someone's a bit excited," he says, playing with the edge of my panties.
Oh God, I want him to just push them to the side and…
His thumbs hook under the waistband of my underwear, and for a moment, some of the control that's been blissfully absent from his eyes seems to return to the surface. I almost begin to worry that he's changed his mind. But it disappears quickly, so quickly that I wonder if I only imagined it.
Then a thin finger runs along my slit, and I gasp—how could I not have noticed that he'd removed my last garment?
He inserts two fingers inside me, drawing a faint moan from me. Then the bed dips under his weight, and I open my eyes to see that he's lying on his side, facing me. My cheeks redden as I realize that he's watching my reaction to his work down below.
I close my eyes again to avoid his stare, reveling in the sensations that are building up under the slow pumping of his digits.
"You remember that morning?"
His voice is a breathy whisper right by my ear.
"I was dreaming of finger-fucking you."
His words somehow increase my desire for him, and the pace that he's set isn't enough for me. I buck my hips, hoping he'll get the message.
His free hand begins to toy with my nipple, and I sigh breathily.
Then he's sliding off the bed again, shifting to kneel between my legs. His fingers continue to pump at a slow, measured rate, and I bite back the pleas that are threatening to fall from my lips.
He presses a kiss to the inside of my thigh, and I shiver in anticipation. Then he withdraws his fingers, and before I can stop myself, I let out a disappointed whine. I clap my hands over my mouth, and he chuckles.
"You're going to be making more noise than that, Hermione. Might as well let go."
Then he leans forward, pulls my legs up over his shoulders, and lowers his face to my soaked, aching lips. His tongue makes a long, languid swipe up the length of my slit, and I moan at the sensation. On his second lick, he dips in slightly, collecting some of the proof of my arousal. My hips jerk slightly, but he holds them in place and dives in.
One of his hands leaves my hip, and his thumb rubs over my clit in small circles. I arch my back and cry out at the assault.
Oh, god. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!
He pauses and looks up at me, grinning. "Language, Hermione."
Clearly, the filter between my brain and my mouth is gone.
"Shut up and keep going!" I demand.
He draws one of my pussy lips into his mouth and massages it with his tongue. I hear his name in a throaty voice—my voice. He repeats the motion on the other side, and I moan wantonly.
A coil low in my belly tightens as he shifts to tease my hypersensitive nub, flicking it gently and then swirling his tongue in small circles around it.
"Stop teasing me, Draco," I pant.
His mouth is too occupied to reply, but his dark eyes look up at me heatedly, and I feel myself get impossibly wetter. He slips one finger inside me, followed by another, working me up again. I want to drop my head back against the bed, but his eyes are holding me captive, and I can't seem to look away.
I don't want to look away.
That coil is winding tighter and tighter, and I just want the pressure to be released.
"Draco, please—"
I don't even know what exactly I'm begging for, but in the next moment, I'm rocketing off toward the stars, screaming his name. I'm hardly aware that he's lifted my hips up to lap up my juices.
I relax completely into the bed, feeling so, so content.
Then he crawls up beside me and smiles—really smiles.
"You're beautiful," I whisper breathlessly, mindlessly.
His smile widens a bit, and his eyes twinkle at me.
"I believe you just stole my line."