Hermione's gasp of surprise cut off as his mouth crashed into hers. Her words had unleashed something in him, and he'd gone from tightly restrained to ravenous in the space of a heartbeat. His kiss was hard, just this side of bruising, and his fingers knotted in her hair as he pushed her back against the shelves. She could feel him shaking as his chest pressed against her and frantic kisses stole her breath. This wasn't some slow, intentional build where soft touches turned to something more. This was a fire — a single flame igniting and roaring to life, wild, uncontrollable, and all-consuming.
He swept his tongue across her lower lip, testing, and she opened for him allowing him entrance. Somehow, Hermione wasn't surprised that he tasted faintly of mint and sugar, despite recently finishing a decadent meal. His grip tightened as heat rushed through her. Her head was spinning - she didn't think she'd ever been kissed like this, been wanted beyond reason. Hands fisted in his shirt, she tugged him closer.
Draco paused, his breath ragged against her neck as he held her. She could feel him trembling against her still, struggling for control. "I…" His voice was thick as he spoke. "I'm sorry, I should slow down. We're not—"
But she didn't want him restrained — she wanted him undone.
"Draco," she cut in, placing a hand over one of his where he'd rested it on her waist. "Please, don't stop." Hermione wasn't sure if it was because of how long it had been since anyone had touched her like this, or because it was him, but everywhere he touched her felt like magic. Each pass of his fingers, every press of his lips sent jolts of electricity through her.
He hoisted her up into his arms and there was a tugging sensation accompanied by a loud pop; she dragged her mouth from his to find that he'd Apparated them into his bedroom.
Some time later, Hermione woke in darkness, her face pressed against Draco's chest — she must have drifted off without realising. His breathing was deep and even, and she thought he might be asleep, but as soon as she lifted her cheek, his hand brushed down her back, leaving her skin tingling.
"I can't believe I fell asleep," she said, embarrassed, and rubbed her eyes. "Why didn't you wake me up?"
"You were so beautiful there, and I didn't want to disturb you…" She blushed, tugging the sheet over her. "It's a sight I could get used to, to be honest. Now that you're awake, I could use a shower, though."
Hermione sat up, wrapping a sheet around her torso in a belated attempt at modesty. It didn't escape her notice that Draco was hard again when he stood; she bit her lip as she raked her eyes down his body. When she realised she was basically drooling over him, she snapped her gaze up to his face and found his heated eyes staring back. He had an uncanny knack for catching her staring, although she was doing it quite a lot lately.
He brushed her hair from one side of her neck, pressing several kisses there. "Care to join me?"
"In the shower?" she asked, trying to determine if he was just being polite. Hermione blushed; it felt greedy of her to want more right now. It was practically the middle of the night and her body was limp and sated.
His answering grin was lethal and sent heat winding through her.
"I'm sure you'd rather have your space," she replied halfheartedly, wondering if he was just trying to avoid making her feel like he was kicking her out.
"Trust me, Hermione—" His mouth caressed her name, sending shivers down her spine. "— I'd very much like for you to join me. But if you'd rather stay here or if you need to leave, I understand." His eyes shuttered, like he was trying to hide something from her.
Cupping both sides of her face in his hands, he kissed her once before walking towards the shower, providing Hermione with an exceptional new view of his backside.
Hermione flopped back into bed and heard the shower come on. Part of her still felt like she should leave, that things had become too intense, too fast. Another part of her was (strangely) unbothered by the entire situation, and was quite pleased with the idea of staying in his bed. Hermione usually kept her romantic partners at a distance early on in a relationship — it removed the need for her to explain why she woke up screaming several times a night. She already knew that this was different. There would be no need to explain to him; he understood better than anyone.
Running her hands down her naked body, she recalled the press of his mouth, the heat of his tongue, and felt her cheeks flush. Joining him in the next room sounded incredibly appealing.
She stretched luxuriously in bed, yawning, and relished the warm, floaty contentment she felt. Staring at the dark ceiling, she realised that (for the first time in a very long time) she'd slept soundly, untroubled by nightmares. Curious.
Hermione rolled out of bed, trailing after him towards the door left cracked open in invitation.