Draco took her hand and led her up the stairs, walking down the hall towards their room, remaining silent the entire time.

Hermione sensed…something. Nerves? She didn't think so, he was never nervous when it came to this. But it was their wedding night, so maybe the pressure to perform had undone him.

He stopped outside their room, and turned to her, his face was almost completely blank, only the flash of panic? Nerves? Outright terror? (Hermione wasn't quite sure), in his eyes gave any indication that something was concerning him.

Hermione frowned, "You okay?"

He nodded, and wordlessly opened the door, gesturing for her to go inside. She hesitated, wondering what was wrong, the silence, his expressionless face. She looked back up at him, but his face still remained stoic.

She moved into the room, and was barely two steps inside the door when she stopped, her breath catching. Candles were lit, spreading a warm yellow glow around the room, and vases holding her favourite flowers, tulips, jasmine and bluebells filled the space with an aroma that would be forever a reminder of the day.

She noted the two crystal glasses, and an expensive looking bottle of vodka sitting on the antique wooden bench at the foot of the bed, and she marvelled at the thoughtfulness of the man she had just married. She'd gotten ready in this room, and she was sure it had been a mess when she stepped out of the door hours earlier. There'd been some swift manoeuvring to tidy it up and do all this, and she wondered where the hell he had gotten the flowers from in the middle of winter.

The sound of the door closing was loud in the quietness of the room. He stepped up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, and kissed her shoulder, "Is this okay?"

She leaned back into him and sighed, "How could it not be?" She turned in his arms, linking her fingers at the back of his neck, "How did you do this?"

He winked, "I have my sources." He bent to kiss her jaw, "Fuck, you smell good."

Hermione tilted her head as his lips trailed down her neck, "Hmm," She hummed, "No, I think it's the jasmine."

"No," He shook his head, "Definitely you." His hands went to her face, and he placed gentle kisses on her temple, her cheek. He pushed her back against the wall, and his lips finally landed on hers, hard and desperate, his tongue slipping inside her mouth and he groaned, the sound vibrating against her mouth.

Her chest tightened, and a lump formed in her throat. He was her husband. Hers for life. But he was kissing her like it was his last. Desperate and needy, full of want. They had all night, and he was rushing, she needed to slow down, wanted to slow down.

"Draco," she moaned and slid her hand into his hair, gently pulling him back.

He looked down at her, breathing hard, "Too many chaste kisses today. I've wanted to do that for hours."

Her eyes searched his, the blank expression was gone, and the intensity staring back at her from the storm-grey eyes she had come to love overwhelmed her. "I'm not sure I believe this is real."

He kissed her forehead, her eyes lids, the tip of her nose, "Real," he whispered, "So real. I'm not sure I could love anyone more than I love you."

She swallowed hard and tears welled in her eyes, "Say it again."

He leaned his forehead on hers, "I love you."

"Draco…" Her throat tightened and her words were lost.

"I love you," He repeated over and over, punctuating each I love you with a gentle kiss.

Despite the stress caused by nagging family and friends, despite the melt down, despite the unspoken fear they each had of the other deciding not to go through with it and fleeing, their wedding had been perfect. But now, after their 'I do's' and the laughs and the tears, and the rock music and the vodka martinis, it was just them. Just them in the quiet, somewhat surreal surroundings of the room in which he had proposed. The room in which she had said yes.

The weight of the moment pressed down on her and she understood his quiet nervousness on their walk up the stairs. He wanted to get this right. It didn't matter how many times they'd been together or how many times they said I love you, this moment was charged with more emotion than she had expected to feel, and he was clearly feeling it too.

He pulled her away from the wall, enclosing her in his arms, "I want you out if this dress," he murmured against her shoulder, "I want to see what's under there."

"Granny panties and a sports bra," She told him.

"I seriously doubt that," he chuckled against her neck. "You're not the granny panties type."

"Maybe I felt like surprising you tonight, since you've managed to do nothing but surprise me all day."

He laughed and led her towards the bed. He picked up the glasses, handing one to her and tipped his own towards her, and teased, "Here's to you, Mrs. Malfoy."

She narrowed her eyes at him, but a small smile flicked across her lips. There was no way she was changing her name. And he knew it. "And to you, Mr. Granger."

She touched her glass with his and took a sip. She closed her eyes and groaned at the mind-blowing richness of it. She glanced down at the bottle and understood why. She smiled up at Draco, "That's an eight hundred dollar bottle of vodka."

"You can thank my father for it." He told her, "He asked what you drank, and that's what he bought for you."

Her eyes went wide, "Lucius? He bought this?"

Draco nodded, "He did. He may not show much emotion – no emotional actually - but he's awfully impressed with his new daughter-in-law's business sense." He paused, "No expensive scotch for his son though."

"Poor baby. Are you jealous that he loves his daughter-in-law more?" She grinned at him, "Daughter-in-law."

"You like the sound of that, yeah?"

"I like the sound of wife more."

Draco swallowed the remainder of his drink, and took her glass from her. His hands were back on her face, his mouth sliding over hers, open, tasting the biting remnants of the vodka on her tongue.

"I was promised a naked wife," he whispered and reached behind her, unbuttoning her dress. A smile spread across his face as her dress slid down her body revealing the tiny white, strapless lace bra and matching Brazilian cut knickers, that cut across her arse in a way that made him want to keep them on.

"You're trying to kill me, am I right?"

"Yes," she deadpanned, "I planned on marrying the man I love, and killing him on our wedding night."

"Then I'll die a happy man." He said as she reached for the buttons on his shirt, slowly, deliberately, undoing each one.

She watched, almost mesmerised, as his pulse began to thrum in his throat. She leaned in and kissed along his collar bone, reaching the base of his throat and dragging her tongue across the rapidly beating pulse. She pushed his shirt down his arms and started on his trousers as it fluttered to the floor.

"Hmm," She hummed, "Positively virginal."

He sniggered as his own white boxer briefs were revealed. "Impressed?"He asked kicking his shoes off and tugging at his socks, while she shoved his pants down his legs.

She nodded slowly, and ran her hand across his covered length, gently squeezing him and causing his stomach to clench, "Always impressed."

His slid his arms around her waist, holding her to him, their near-naked bodies touching from chests to thighs.

"Married," he said quietly, "We're fucking married."

"Is that okay?" Hermione asked.

He pulled back and looked down at her, "You're the best, most amazing, most insane thing to ever happen to me." He bent and kissed her, smiling against her mouth, "You are my home. There's nowhere else I want to be."

She slid her hands into his hair, pulling his mouth back to hers, "Good answer," she whispered, "Because I like being married to you."

"Like?" his smile curled his lips upwards and his eyes filled with amusement, "Is that all? You like being married to me?"

She traced a finger down his chest, feeling the hard ridges of each muscle, "Hmm, I very much like being married to you."

"Well, that's different then," His fingers deftly unclasped her bra and it dropped to the floor, "Just so you know, I love you, and I fucking love being married to you."

Hermione laughed, and rose up on her toes to kiss him, "How many times is it that you've told me you love me."

He shrugged, "Not that many. Four, maybe five times."

She shoved at him, "You're an idiot," she kissed him again, "But at least you're my idiot."

Draco kissed her shoulder and ran his hand over her breast, his thumb flicking over her nipple, "Are you ready to let this idiot have his way with you?" His hand reached lower, slipping under her knickers and sliding across her clit.

Hermione sighed and pressed her forehead to his shoulder, "I've been ready all day."

He picked her up and gently lowered her to the bed, crawling over her. He stared down at her, his eyes dark and serious. He cupped her face, his thumb gently sweeping across her cheek. He kissed her softly, "You are the love of my life, Hermione." He twirled a strand of her hair around his finger, tugging gently, "All of me belongs to you."

Hermione's chest clenched tightly and her breath caught. She'd been prepared for declarations of love, prepared for her name to be whispered endlessly, prepared for the reverent look in his eyes, but even now, with those simple words, he'd managed to catch her off guard.

She loved his expressive eyes, loved how they showed every emotion, how he could hide nothing from her. She loved his steely determination, loved his vulnerability, She loved how he protected her, how he protected his son. And she loved how he loved her; openly, honestly.

His eyes remained focused on her face while she filtered through her thoughts. He hadn't moved, hovering over her, waiting. She pressed her palms to his back and pulled him down to her, seeking his mouth. His tongue touched hers, pushing into her mouth, sealing his lips against hers. She circled his shoulders, holding him to her, his weight settling over her.

The kiss started out slow and deep, Draco linking his fingers with hers, holding them together against the pillow beside her head. But it quickly turned heated and almost desperate. He ground against her, and let out a frustrated growl; they weren't quite naked, their underwear was in the way.

"Hermione...I can't...wait...I need...inside you," he was breathless already, desperate to feel her surrounding him, his cock harder than he could ever remember it being. He'd been aching for her since he saw her come down those stairs and was now too lost in his own needs to be gentle. He couldn't wait.

He reached down, shoving the waistband of his boxers just low enough to free himself, and impatiently yanked her knickers to the side, pushing into her with one hard stab of his hips.

Hermione winced. She was wet, but not quite enough, not for ferocity with which he had entered her. She forced her hand between them and rubbed at her clit, building her own arousal and easing the slight discomfort of his harsh thrusts.

She groaned as her body caught up, and the discomfort turned into pure bliss, her slickened walls accommodating the speed and intensity of his movements. She closed her eyes, and heightened her other senses. She listened to the harsh breaths and low grunts from his mouth pressed against her neck, heard the slapping of skin against skin, felt the brush of his balls against her arse as he drove desperately into her again and again.

She wondered how much of this desperation was out of fear. Fear that this wouldn't last, fear that she would leave, fear that he would be left alone. He hadn't gotten the chance to marry his first love, the mother of his child, and she was sure that somewhere deep in his subconscious that was what this was about. She was in no doubt that he loved her, that he had no regrets about marring her, but she was sure there was some lingering, pent up frustration that life had been as cruel to him as it had to her.

He clung to her, clutching at her shoulders, his chest pressed hard against hers as he pistoned in and out of her. She dug her fingers into his arse, urging him on, and felt him let go, unleashing himself inside her. He groaned into her neck, the sound of relief came out as a guttural growl and he relaxed against her.

She clasped her ankles together around his hips and slid her hands along his damp skin, burying her fingers into his hair. She hadn't come, but she didn't care. The feeling of him like this, using her body and taking what he wanted and not caring about her, had been more than she could have imagined. The sex had always been nothing less than phenomenal with him, but this was something new, something better, something raw and unhinged and she loved it.

He went still above her, and then cursed, "Shit!" He lifted off her, searching her face. "Shit!" He pulled out of her and rolled off the bed, pausing to look down at her, "Fuck!" he swore, and disappeared into the bathroom.

She heard the tap turn on, the water running, the sluiced sound as he splashed water on his face. He swore again and another frustrated sound followed. She leaned up on her elbows, and wondered exactly what was going through his head.

When he finally emerged, she smiled at him, "Hey there. What happened?"

He shook his head, his eyes pained, "I can't get anything right in this fucking room."

Hermione frowned at him, "What am I missing here? That felt pretty right to me."

"Right?" He look disbelievingly at her, "How was that right? I couldn't even be bothered to get us fully naked. You were barely ready for me."

Hermione sat up and reached her hand out to him, "Come here."

He didn't move.

"Draco," she insisted, "Come. Here."

He may have been the first reluctant groom that had ever existed, and she couldn't stop the smile as he slowly rejoined her on the bed. She pulled him down to lay beside her and moved closer.

"Listen to me," She placed her palm on his cheek, "I know you had a different picture in your head as to how this would go. You wanted something slow and romantic that lasted for hours, yeah?"

He gave her a wry smile, "Yeah, hours would have been nice."

"But what happened was that you took what you needed." She pressed her finger to his lips as he made to protest, "And it was what I needed too. I needed you to fuck me, to take me. It was raw emotion, it wasn't fake or forced." She kissed him softly and smiled, "I've been through this before, a wedding night, but you haven't. And the first time was sweet and slow and I was certain that it was what I wanted. And I was certain that it would last forever."

He lifted an eyebrow at her.

"But it wasn't what I wanted. What I wanted was this. This felt real, Draco. This felt better. You were urgent and desperate and you wanted only me. It was us, just you and me. And believe me, I didn't want precious and slow, I wanted to feel like my husband fucked me. And that he fucked me hard. But if it's important to you, then you can spend the rest of your life making love to me, because I know this is forever."

Draco's mouth was suddenly over hers, his tongue sliding between her lips, warm and slick, soothing her and himself. "Sorry," he whispered, "I guess you haven't got the monopoly on freak outs."

Hermione smiled at his apology. It was usually her that was mumbling sorry after a panicked melt down. It was usually him that was reassuring her that all would be well. It was rare that the roles were reversed. She seldom saw this side of him; the fear and the worry and the complete look of dismay in his eyes that he had disappointed her.

"I guess not. Did you want to start over?" She asked, "We could go back into hall and come back in. I'm wearing way less now, so getting to this part would be way quicker."

He looked down at her almost naked body, "There's no way you're stepping out there like this!"

She shrugged, "Who would know?"

His eyes boggled as she laughed and shifted to sit up. He grabbed her arm and pulled her back down, "Hermione. I was promised a naked wife, not the entire fucking pub!"

She laughed harder, "But no one's out there. Who'd see us?"

"Oh-kay," He said slowly, "You like being naked in public. That might have been something I should have known prior to saying I do."

"It's an empty hallway, not exactly public." She reached for his hand and ran her finger across the platinum band, "Besides, it's too late, you can't back out now."

He smiled, "'Til death do us part. Isn't that what we agreed upon?"

"Sounds vaguely familiar," she hummed, "And I'm pretty sure you know everything about me by now."

"Hmm," he mused, "I do know you. And I do know that you didn't come. And I do know that I'm about to change that."

He kissed her neck, his tongue finding its way to her collarbone, the tip tickling over the rise of her breast and flicking across her nipple.

Her fingers slid through his hair, gripping tightly, and arching her back silently begging him for more. He smiled and pulled her nipple deeper into his mouth, and heard a satisfied moan. His fingers slipped beneath the lace of her underwear, slowly moving down, feeling the smooth, bare skin. The first time she'd been completely bare was in this room with him. She'd been bare for him.

He spread her, finding her clit and circling slowly around it. "Do you like that?"

Hermione nodded. "Yeah," she whispered, "Yeah, I like that."

"How do you like it? Harder?" He pressed his finger against the sensitive bud and she grabbed his wrist.

"No," she breathed, "Like…" he slowed his finger again, "Yeah, like that."

His finger dipped lower, pulling up the wetness pooling rapidly at her entrance, circling and circling, keeping the same pace, not increasing the pressure. "Do you want me to fuck you again?"

She shook her head, "No…not yet…Keep doing…Oh!"

He squeezed gently on her clit and bit down on her nipple, her hand flying to the back of his neck and holding him in place. Draco watched her, and the weight that had been pressing into his chest, the weight that had urged him to fuck her hard, without thinking, lifted and it dawned on him that she was his wife. She was the person he would love and adore for the rest of his life.

And it was okay that he'd lost himself and fucked her hard and fast. He hadn't hurt her, instead he'd given into his most base needs and she'd loved him all the more for it.

He reluctantly dragged his fingers away from her, and she whined in protest.

He kissed her, whispered, Trust me, and slid the white lace over her hips and down her legs.

"Yours too," she breathed and he smiled, kicking his boxers down his legs, his half hard cock springing free.

She pulled him back to her mouth, hit with the overwhelming need to simply kiss him again, desperate to have his mouth on hers. The quick press of lips became messy and hurried, hot and urgent, tongues tangling, tasting each other. She reached between them, her hands sliding over his stomach, her nails scratching across the hard muscles, tickling lightly through the hair on his navel.

He rolled over her and kissed a path down the length of her body, covering her breasts, her ribs, her hips. "Mine," he murmured as he kissed his way lower, "Mine…mine…mine."

She didn't care how possessive he sounded, as much as he was hers, she was equally his. All of her. A slow, shaky exhale left her and she felt a deep comfort wash over her, and her heart almost split in two. She loved him, loved him more than she thought was capable of loving anyone. And his declaration of mine only stoked the felling further.

He positioned himself between her thighs and spread her legs wide, kissing a trail from her knee to her core. He let out a long exhale against her wet flesh, his warm breath causing her to shiver. He opened his mouth over her, and dragged his tongue through her. "Watch me," he growled, "Watch my tongue."

Hermione raised herself onto her elbows and looked down at where his mouth was currently sending shockwaves through her body. She reached one hand down, running her hand through his hair and rolling her hips against him. She groaned and fell back to the bed when two fingers entered her and curled forward. Her hand gripped his hair harder, tugging him closer, and whispering more and harder and oh! fuck.

And he obliged, sucking and pulling at her with his tongue and lips, whispering against her with words that barely made it to her ears;

I love…
Your pussy tastes…
Fuck!
So good…

She gasped. And it was all too much, and the intensity with which her orgasm hit her had her shaking and spasming, and wanting to pull away from him. Her legs want to clamp shut, but he held them wide open, his tongue still working her until she shoved at his head and cried for him to stop.

He moved over her, "Better?" he asked.

"The first time was pretty fucking good." She assured him and glanced down between them, reaching for him, stroking him, watching his face.

His eyes followed hers, watching her hand move over him, "No, it wasn't. It was-"

She cut him off with a kiss, "Stop." She told him, "Stop worrying. It was fucking perfect. And it's about to be perfect again."

She tilted his cock towards her, pressing the swollen crown against her clit, circling and rubbing and spreading the wetness he pulled from her with his mouth all over his hardened shaft.

"Jesus! Fuck!" Draco couldn't take his eyes away from where she was rubbing him all over her. His arms were shaking where they were planted beside her shoulders, but didn't want her to stop, it felt so fucking amazing.

"You like that?" she whispered.

He nodded. It was all he could do. His voice was lost and he was sure that he could happily explode right then all over her bare skin and not be even slightly embarrassed about it.

"Do you want to be inside me?" she teased and lowered his cock to rest at her entrance. Draco nodded again and she laughed, "Can you talk?"

He looked up at her, his eyes dark and heavy, and shook his head. No, he was fairly certain he wasn't able to talk. He rose up, resting on his knees between her thighs and spreading her legs wide. He replaced her hand with his and pressed the tip of himself just inside.

She inhaled sharply, and her instincts took over, rocking into him, searching, wanting him deeper.

He let out a quiet chuckle, and found his voice, "Not yet."

He pulled out of her and rested his cock over her clit, circling and rubbing in the same way she had done. She groaned and lifted her hips from the bed, the backs of her thighs tensing over his. She reached down and brushed her thumb over the tip of his cock, feeling how wet it was.

"Draco," she murmured, lost in the sensation of him.

"Hermione," He murmured back, watching her face as he finally slid into her.

His hands went to her hips, his thumbs sliding across her navel and meeting over her core. He pressed down and her head fell back against the pillow as he traced circles over her clit.

"Right there," She moaned, her hands fisting at the bedding, "Good. So fucking good."

He leaned over her, one hand beside her head, the other continuing to torture her pulsing bundle of nerves. "Look at me."

She opened her eyes, her breath catching at the hungry look burning in his grey eyes, a savage look that almost pulls her under. Every muscle in her body coils and tightens, just at his look, and she wants nothing more than for him to take her again, to fuck her, to make her scream his name.

And he knows. He knows without asking her and drags his hand away from her, lowering himself to her and bracing himself on his forearms arms. Without any warning, he slammed into her, hard and fast, and she moved with him, eagerly matching his thrusts. His cock is heavy and hard inside her, sinking through her over and over with a relentless urgency to get her there, to make it good.

Her body began to shake and her thighs pressed hard against his ribs, squeezing, rubbing chasing more friction. She grabbed his arse, shoving him deeper and he hits her with short, sharp stabs that have her crying out and arching beneath him. Her entire body stiffened and she shuddered, his name came out as a choked rasp.

His hand gripped her breast, squeezing hard and he grunted into her neck, "Fuck, Hermione. Fuck! Fuck!" He shook over her and he exhaled heavily and collapsed onto her.

His hand slid from her breast, down her ribs to her thigh, holding it against him. His eyes found hers and he smiled, relieved.

"Hey," she said quietly, her hands moving from his arse to circle his shoulders.

"Hey yourself," he kissed her gently, "How'd I do?"

Hermione shrugged, "Okay, I guess."

Draco laughed and gently nipped at her shoulder, "Give me twenty minutes and I'll show you okay."

Her eyes caught his and she sighed, "I love you, husband."

Her grinned at her, "And I love you too, wife."

Draco woke to something cold and wet dripping onto his chest. He opened his eyes and blinked into the defused morning light filtering into the room. Hermione was propped up beside him, the bottle of vodka tipped ever so slightly above his chest, and he watched as the clear liquid spilled across his skin.

"That seems an awful waste," He turned to look at her and she was biting her lip.

"I don't plan on wasting it,' she said softly, reaching across him and placing the bottle on the nightstand.

He held his breath as she slowly leaned over him, her tongue flicking out and lapping at the liquid on his skin.

Shit.
She really was going to kill him.

He watched, enthralled, as she licked and sucked at him; across his chest and ribs, across his navel, nipping at his hips, going lower and lower until she looked up at him and her face held an expression that had him wondering if she would actually devour him.

Her eyes never left his as she pushed his legs apart and licked across his balls, a wicked smile crossing her face at his sharp intake of breath. She drew the tip of her tongue along his cock, watching as his skin stretched as he grew harder. She wrapped her hand around the base, working him over, stroking and twisting her hand around him.

He gripped her hair, guiding her over him, wordlessly asking for more. She covered him with her mouth, sliding slowly down the solid length of him until the tip hit the back of her throat. She hummed around him, and swallowed, her throat tightening and pulling a loud, shuddering breath from him.

"Love your fucking mouth," he said, running a finger across her cheek, his hand in her hair gripping tighter as she flicked her tongue over the place beneath the head of his cock that always made him shudder. He reached down and pinched her nipple and she groaned around him.

She slowly pulled her head back, her teeth gently scraping over him in a torturous slide. She moved over him, straddling his hips, bending to kiss him, sealing her mouth over his. She fisted his hair and slid her tongue into his mouth, demanding more.

Draco's own hands slid into her hair, holding her to him and kissing her back, fevered and savage, and he groaned as she ground down over him. He reached between them, fisting his cock, holding it, waiting for her to take him in.

They both gasped as she lowered herself until he was fully seated inside her. His hands gripped her hips, holding her in place.

Hermione looked down at him, and a thought occurred to her.

He's mine.

She would be the only one to see him like this, naked and smiling.
She would be the only one to touch him, to feel the hard muscles and see the fine lines of his body.
She would be the only one to feel a flutter in her stomach when he said I love you.

He was hers.
Only hers.

"What are you thinking right now?"

"I can hardly believe that a year ago I found my forever." Bending forward, she pressed her mouth to his, "I love you and I love being married to you."

His heart almost burst.

He sat up and cupped her face, her enormous brown eyes staring back at him in wonder.

What more could he do but kiss her?

A/N: These two chapters started out as one, but as you can see they kind of got crazy long. I hope you enjoyed them...and, as always, much love and hugs for the kind words you're sending my way xx