71.
The bassinet was currently in Carina's bedroom – which she probably wouldn't go into full time until she was six months, which was when Hermione planned to wean her off breastfeeding and onto formula, if she was still expressing by then. But she was absent from the bedroom for now, Malfoy having put her down to nap five minutes ago. Hermione had taken a leisurely shower, depilated her legs and her armpits for the first time in just over six weeks, used a hair mask, and exfoliated so thoroughly that she felt like she was glowing.
Everything seemed fairly back to normal between her legs; her vulva was present and accounted for, and a tentative probe made her think her vagina was probably happy to be put back into service again. She certainly wanted it to be ready. The spirit was willing, but the body was…unknown, thus far. But they planned to find out this evening. As for the rest of her…well, the potion she was using on the stretch marks at her sides had faded them to silvery stripes, her breasts looked amazing, and her stomach was still a little squishy, but acceptable.
Hermione stood naked, looking in the mirror as she finger-combed Sleekeazy's through her magically dried and rather fluffy hair. She was sexy as hell, she told herself. And Malfoy would want to just eat her up. Literally. She strolled through to the bedroom, stark naked, and there he was awaiting her. Sprawled on the bed in nothing but a pair of jockey shorts, he looked positively delicious; all broad shoulders and flat stomach, well-toned still, like a sculpture made of marble. And Blaise's basket of goodies sat next to him.
She laughed – quietly – as she eased the door shut behind her.
"I should've known you'd get that down from the wardrobe."
"I figured it was about time we investigated it. I've already discovered a jar of Plimsoll's Perfect Paste –" he held up a squat glass jar as Hermione crossed to the bed "– which touts itself as a cream potion for topical and internal application, which provides, and I quote, 'relaxation and gentle titillation, via artful stimulation'." Hermione raised a brow as she sank onto the bed, resisting the urge to cover herself. Malfoy moved the basket down onto the floor and slithered closer to her.
"Fuck, Granger, you look incredible," he said, at the perfect moment. He dropped the jar between them and his hand settled on her hip first, sliding down the slope into the dip of her waist and moving up toward her right breast, as his mouth slanted over hers – a light, grazing contact, as titillating as the cream purported itself to be.
"And I think so. Plimsoll's is a good brand –" it was, Hermione admitted "– established in 1323," Malfoy went on, somewhat muffled now as he kissed his way down her throat, toward the breast he was currently cupping. "Although we don't have to try it –" his lips brushed her nipple, and she arched her back and squeaked "– if you don't want to."
His mouth settled hot and soft over her nipple and areola, and his tongue swirled over her skin, bumping over the nub of her nipple, and sucking very, very gently. Hermione moaned and arched her back further. Oh, that felt so good.
He made a rough sound in the back of his throat and his fingers tightened on her body, yanking her a little closer, his leg pushing between her thighs. It was warm and well-muscled, and lightly covered with hairs that made it feel just slightly rough. Hermione made a pleased sound as he cautiously snugged his thigh up against her vulva, and she pressed down against it a little. Her clit felt very sensitive, all her nerve-endings on fire with anticipation. She wasn't sure she needed the Plimsoll's Paste, as she curled her fingers in Malfoy's short hair and whimpered, grinding lightly against his leg and pushing her breast into his mouth.
And then he sucked harder, and she felt pins and needles rushing through her breast. Oh dear. "Malfoy?" She tugged on his hair. "You might want to –" But it was too late. He'd already jerked back from her of his own accord.
"M'rl'n," he mumbled, looking faintly ill, and swallowed with difficulty, as Hermione lay there on her side still straddling his leg, milk trickling from one nipple, not sure whether to be offended, or laugh at him as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and made a face. "I probably should've expected that."
"Yes, yes, you probably should've," she agreed, trying to keep the amusement out of her voice, and rake him over the coals just a little. She knew she shouldn't compare, but her milk had never bothered Ron. Was this the one area where Ron beat out Malfoy? She smiled inwardly at the thought.
"I'm sorry," he said immediately, giving her an apologetic look, as she pressed her fingers over her nipple and pressed firmly to stem the let-down and raised her brows at him, waiting for an explanation. "I don't want you to think I find you disgusting or off-putting, or anything like that, but breast-milk is just…" he trailed off.
"Just what?" she pushed, being slightly mean.
He gave her a knowing look, as though he knew the game she was playing. "That's one bodily fluid I am not keen on. It just feels…wrong. It's for the baby, and it seems weird to mix it up with sex."
Hermione didn't care about that. It was all just her body, to her. But she understood his position. It was rather like how she didn't really like him talking about sex while she was feeding Carina. Too weird. "Fair." And then she grinned and wriggled forward a little, her vulva sliding wet over his thigh, and he rumbled an approving sound. "What," she said, brightly curious, "Other bodily fluids are you okay with?"
He looked at her, huffed one amused exhalation, and then pinched the bridge of his nose, those beautiful, molten silver eyes closed, lashes thick and luscious.
"Merlin's sake, Granger."
"No, really."
"I don't know, I was just –"
"I have it on good authority – from you – that you are not into pee, so –"
"– not 'into' it, you infuriating witch –"
"– doesn't that –"
"We're wasting time, Granger," he said impatiently at last and that grabbed her attention.
"I'm tabling this discussion for later, then," she said, grinning at him, and rocking gently on his thigh, and he groaned and pressed his mouth to her forehead.
"Oh for – saliva, your juices, and my cum," he said resignedly, and Hermione snickered, her right hand running down the nape of his neck, and sweeping out over his shoulder.
"Your own – that just raises more questions than it answers, Malfoy."
"Lie back," he said impatiently. "We're clearly not getting anywhere right now, so I'm going to massage you with this damned paste until you stop talking." He shot her a glance as he disentangled himself from her. "If you're amenable?"
"That does sound nice." Just a massage alone would be wonderful. A massage using that – very nice. Hermione went to roll onto her stomach and he stopped her with the heel of his hand, fingers already white with a scoop of the stuff.
"No. On your back, Granger," he said as he knelt beside her in his jockey shorts, his erection trying its best to escape. She gave it an idle fondle that made him emit a stifled whimper, and did as she was told – and a moment later, he smeared cold cream between her breasts, startling on hot skin. "Just shut your eyes, and relax."
Two warm hands spread cold cream over the swells and curves of her breasts, sweeping up toward her collarbones, and then down and around, coming up from underneath. They left gently warmed and tingling skin behind in their wake, stimulation teasing through her. "Mmph."
His thumbs bumped over her nipples, and she cracked her eyes open to see more globs of white cream being generously applied. "So, your own cum?" she asked, reminded of it, her voice going up and cracking slightly as he slicked the cream over her nipples and the surrounding region extremely thoroughly, and then pinched gently, tugging.
"Hnnngh," she whimpered, eyes still cracked open, and saw a flash of teeth as he grinned. She was getting exceedingly wet; she could feel it, and her breasts felt so perfectly stimulated. As though she was hypersensitive and hyper-alert, every touch, every draught of air making her want to moan as pleasure swelled in her.
"I'm hardly going to expect you to consume something I wouldn't, am I?" he said, with a tone like a proper gentleman, and it took Hermione a second to remember what he was talking about. Right. Cum.
"So you're not – not into it, then?" she asked, her breath catching and her voice wobbling shamefully as he rubbed her breasts thoroughly in circles, fingers splayed wide over her flesh. It was sheer ecstasy thrilling through her and arousal was a roar consuming her body, her insides pulsing occasionally when the stimulation peaked particularly sharply – plucking at her nipples, scraping blunt, short fingernails back and forth across the buds, or squeezing her breasts lightly. It was the kind of arousal that was maddening and made her want to squirm and moan.
"I'm not into it, no, but it doesn't put me off," he said idly, bumping his fingers across her nipples several times and then gently pinching and twisting. She made a wavering moan, and her hips lifted off the bed. "Fuck, your breasts are glorious. And so sensitive."
"That's all Plimsoll's," she gasped. She was sweating. Oh Merlin. She was desperate for his touch between her legs. His fingers toying with her clit. His cock pushing into her, breaching her.
"Not the gloriousness," he said seriously, bending his head and kissing her left nipple, before beginning to sweep his hands down her abdomen and sides, applying less Plimsoll's there. "Huh," he said thoughtfully. She looked up at him – he was faintly flushed, his pupils swamping his eyes. "My lips feel tingly now. And it's…making my balls feel tight?"
"We're all so glad to know the status of your balls, Malfoy," Hermione said, grinning, barely keeping her voice even, and he just smirked at her, rubbing his cream-shiny fingers around her belly button.
"The impudence of you," Malfoy scolded idly, and then nudged her thighs apart, shifting off his knees and shoving his shorts off in an uncoordinated fashion. He stretched out naked beside her, propped up on his right elbow, his head level with her crotch. "Oh fuck, it has been so long since I've seen this," he breathed, his face all filled with awe and longing as he stared at her vulva. "Fucking beautiful," he added, emphatically, and then reached out with fingers that were still faintly shiny with cream. "May I?" he asked, and she nodded, sharply. He looked up to her face.
"Yes," she croaked, nodding again, her left hand playing over his head, and drifting along his shoulder.
"I'll be gentle, Granger," he breathed. "And if it hurts, tell me." He smiled up at her. "Christmas me."
"I will," she said faintly, smiling back, her chest feeling tight, her breasts mounds of tingling, buzzing pleasure, her abdomen tingling, and her insides still going wild – she was firmly in the grip of breathless, dry-mouthed, needy arousal, and the Plimsoll's was working its magic.
His fingers dipped down between her thighs, and she watched, unable to see much from this angle. But she could feel his fingers gliding, she was so wet, and when he gently drew them up, from the entrance to her cunt to just beneath her clit, parting her inner labia, they glistened with juices. Viscous and glittering in the light, and he shot her a lopsided grin – there and gone in a second.
"You seem aroused, Ms Granger," he teased straight-faced, as he ever-so-gently slid his fingers down between her folds again, dancing along her flesh and parting it with a feather-light touch. She thumped his shoulder as he withdrew his fingers just before they pressed inside her, splaying them apart and revealing a web of arousal. Her cheeks felt very hot.
"I am. Very," she bit out, frustrated and not knowing why. Probably his tentativeness. His infuriating light touch. "I'm not sore, Malfoy. You can be firmer," she said, adding "I'll Christmas if it hurts, I swear."
"I think perhaps we should add some Plimsoll's before I go any further." His eyes glinted with mischief. "We should probably make sure you're lubricated enough."
Hermione whimpered at the thought of the cream on her vulva, doing what it was currently doing to her breasts. It was an exquisite torture. She nodded frantically.
"If we get interrupted halfway through this, I'm going to die," she said hoarsely, and he huffed a laugh.
"If Carina wakes up, I'll give her some expressed milk and leave you alone with Blaise's basket of goodies." That sounded like a good plan. And then Malfoy dipped out a glob of cream and plopped it directly on her clitoris.
"Nngh!" she said and stiffened. "Cold!"
"Sorry," he said but his lips curved faintly, and she wasn't sure he was. And then cold melted into heat as he spread the cream – just the feel of his fingers rubbing in circles over her arousal-swollen, sensitised clitoris was enough to make her eyes roll back in her head. She moaned helplessly, her right hand grabbing at the sheets, and her left at his shoulder. With the cream slowly beginning to kick in, it was beyond bliss. Entirely, wholly too much, in the best way. Heat, and tingling, and incredible sensitivity swelled to life in her clit, even as he finished with it and slicked cream down between her folds.
"Hnngh, oh – I want more…" she whimpered mindlessly, her hand creeping toward her clit, and he slapped it lightly away.
"No. I do it, not you," he said firmly, and she made another whimpering moan, this one devastated. It felt like a delicious fire was burning and pulsing in her clitoris, and sweeping down over her vulva, and she wanted stimulation. And then he drew his fingers away entirely and scooped another dollop from the jar. "This one," he said meaningfully, waggling his two fingers, "goes inside you."
He paused, as if waiting for assent. Hermione nodded, her breath dragging in and out raggedly, her whole body wired, and throbbing, and sensitised. The idea of feeling like this internally as well was both terrifying and deeply necessary. Malfoy pressed his fingers very, very gently into her, millimetre by millimetre, or so it felt. "Is that okay?"
It was very full, and Hermione already felt extremely sensitive, she discovered. Oh dear. She wasn't sure if that meant it would be even better, or just too much entirely. "Yes," she breathed, feeling cold cream and hot fingers slowly sliding deeper into her. And then he withdrew, scissoring his fingers slightly as he went, and she whimpered. Her clit was throbbing.
"Oh fuck," he said, looking down at her vulva. "You're so slick, and pink, and swollen. Fucking perfect."
"Please touch me," she whispered hoarsely. "Please."
He looked up at her, his pupils dilated and his eyes shining, his lips faintly swollen and flushed, and gently pinched her clit.
"Hnngh…" her hips jerked and his finger and thumb slid off. "S-sorry," she whispered dumbly, mind broken as he put his finger and thumb either side of the small, swollen bud of her clit, and rubbed. Indirect stimulation, mostly, with just a bit of direct squeezing, and Hermione made a gasping, wobbling vocalisation and felt wetness nearly gush from her cunt as her insides clenched, and arousal roared in her.
"You look so pretty," he murmured, and leaned in and licked her clit, tongue slipping under the hood, and she moaned loudly as liquid fire seared through her, right down to the soles of her feet. He shifted, and then settled between her legs, hands clasping her bum cheeks.
"This is better," he said, and then opened his mouth and fixed it over her clit. She wailed. He licked, and swirled, and her hips bucked, but that only pushed her more firmly up against the wet, soft heat of his mouth, and that gently, torturously lashing tongue. "Mmph," he said happily, and the sound reverberated against her flesh and she let out another sound, eyes screwed shut and hands screwed up into balls.
"Imagine what a vibrator in your cunt, and one of those suction-y toys on your clit would do, in combination with the Plimsoll's, Granger," he said, and she whimpered at the thought. It would kill her. Kill her dead. And then he sucked gently on her clit – usually that technique wasn't one she really loved, but now it was creating pulsing, blissful, unbearable waves of pleasure, and her whimpers grew.
"Come on, Granger," he said, sweet and demanding at once. "I want your first orgasm now." First? What did he have planned? And then he suckled on her clit while his tongue slid back and forth across it, and she came in a convulsion, everything squeezing and clenching, and pulsating, and waves of tension and pleasure burst through her.
"Oh my Godddd," she wailed as her insides pulsated, and her juices trickled down onto the bed beneath her, and Malfoy made a happy sound.
He didn't stop, either. Fingers gripping her bum, he just switched focus. While she was still experiencing waves of lessening, clenching orgasm, panting and wrecked, he just moved further down her vulva, and she bucked helplessly.
"Oh my god," she gasped again, and he sucked on her inner labia and she thrashed. He licked a path up between her inner and outer labia, and the pleasure shot so deeply into her core that her uterus cramped painfully. He speared his tongue into her cunt, and she felt it flutter and twitch down on him, and he moaned.
"Fuck, I want to feel that on my cock," he gasped tightly when he pulled back. And then, just as her clitoris began to settle down, he darted little, pointed-tongue licks at her it directly beneath the hood and she felt like she was going to have a damned seizure – only for him to switch to flat-tongued. Soft, wet, flat-tongued swirls and sweeps, starting slow and moving faster, until she was gasping and begging incoherently, and then he slid a finger inside her cunt, and curled it slightly.
"Come for me, Granger," he said, mumbled in between swirling licks. "Time for your second orgasm now." More licking, and his finger began to move in and out. Oh, it was so good. "Now. Come," he snapped, an order, and licked sharp and direct at her clitoris, his face buried against her and finger inside her, curling and thrusting and twisting so that there was nowhere for her to go to escape the onslaught of pleasure.
"Ohhh…nnngh…" she got out in a long, breathy groan as she came again, on cue, her cunt clamping down on his intruding, slowly pumping finger, all her inner muscles contracting and releasing in waves, release flooding her. "Oh – Malfoy…" She was burning hot all over, sweat coating her skin, unable to think straight. Instead of withdrawing his finger, he was pushing another into her, and she made a weak, wobbling sound.
"One more, before I fuck you, all right, Granger?" he said softly. "You're going to come one more time for me."
"I can't," she gasped. "I swear, I can't."
"You can, and you will, and it will be the best one yet," he said, as if that were fact, and his two fingers slid in and out, her vulva a slick sea of juices and the cream, her insides clenching and fluttering with the stimulation as he stretched her. He scissored them, and she made a strangled sound. He curled them, so that he pressed against her g-spot, and she felt that strange over-stimulus and cried out, squirming and whimpering.
"Do you need three fingers?" he asked, twisting the two inside her, and she made a sound and shook her head no. She felt so full that she didn't know how she was going to manage his cock.
He pushed up then, shifting position and moving up beside her, propping himself up on his right elbow next to her, his fingers still stuffing her full and his thumb rubbing her clit, while his mouth sank to her left breast. He suckled lightly on her nipple, and she twitched like a fish on a line, and his thumb rubbed harder.
"Do I need to slide a finger up your arse, Granger?" he asked playfully, and then swiped his tongue over her nipple. She moaned. "Put some of Plimsoll's finest up your sweet little arse, and then slip a finger in there, too."
His thumb kept rubbing, and her hips kept wriggling. The pleasure was building and building. She listened to his rambling talk, biting her lip and panting.
"Give me your other nipple, Granger," he told her, and she barely had the presence of mind to cup her right breast, pushing it over toward him. He nipped lightly, his thumb swirling circles, his fingers slowly pumping as she rocked on them, huffing sounds of pleasure. "Would you like that? You're alway telling me that anal is off limits, but I bet a dollop of this stuff would turn you into a cock-hungry little slut." She would've blushed if she hadn't been red-faced already, and so painfully aroused that the idea of that was amazing.
"Can you imagine it? Your arse –" he sucked gently on her nipple and she moaned "– feeling as good as your cunt, clit, and breasts do? Being so desperate for my cock to fill it and stimulate it, that you climb onto my lap, spread your arse cheeks, and slowly impale yourself on it." He sucked and rubbed and fucked, and she whimpered, at his mercy. "Fucking that tight little arse of yours up and down on my cock while I stretch it wide open, and you're panting, and so greedy – do you think it could make you come from that, this stuff? Do you think it'd make you feel so good that you'd come from me fucking your tight –"
"Hnnghhh…" her cry drowned his words as her body tried to jackknife, shattering on a third orgasm, and he made a funny little, gasping sound and then his fingers yanked out of her cunt, and he was over her, on top of her, his cock pushing at her entrance. Thick, hot, and blunt, slowly pressing in. She was panting. Gasping. Still caught in the aftermath of the orgasm that had wrenched through her. "Oh – ohhh, Malfoy."
"I need you," he grated, and she opened her eyes to him above her, faces inches apart, his cheeks red and his lips swollen and parted, his eyes glittering and dilated with lust. "Please."
"Y-yes. Yes," she said, nervous, but sure – if his fingers hadn't hurt, his cock should be fine – "Ohhh…mmph…" Her thoughts cut off and her hands clamped down on his shoulders. It was so fucking much. So good, but so tender, and so much.
He was panting – not from exertion, but from arousal, she thought. From the effort it took to yank his slow breaching of her body to a halt, as he locked their gazes. "Does it hu–"
"No," Hermione snapped desperately. "No, please, please, put it all the way in. I want it –"
His hips snapped forward, and she wailed, her knees vice-tight against his sides, her fingers digging into his shoulders. She tried to yank him down so she could bury her face against his throat. He lowered himself, body pressing against hers, and her face tucking into his throat as she made little sobbing moans. He was in her. All the way in; balls deep. And oh Merlin, it was a lot. He was holding still now, and she was glad, because she just needed a moment to acclimatise.
"You feel incredible," Malfoy panted, and kissed the top of her head before tucking his chin back over it. "Fucking incredible. Merlin, I'm going to come faster than when I lost my virginity. It's going to be mortifying. And incredible."
She laughed weakly at his commentary, and their bodies shifted. His cock slid out a little, and he pushed it back in, and just like that, they were fucking. He groaned at the first thrust, and gasped thereafter, breathing so hard she was afraid he was going to pass out. His cock was an invasion. A brutal, conquering force. She surrendered, and it fucked sensation through her in waves. In inexorable, all-consuming waves of bliss, stimulation, and arousal, and her body tightened again. Her clit was being bumped and rubbed by the friction of the bodies, and with the Plimsoll's, Hermione started to suspect she might have another orgasm in her.
If he didn't come first.
"I think I might come again," she gasped in a rush to warn him, in case he could hold off, and he stuttered in his stroke, and then made a sound.
"Oh really? Like this?" His hips slammed in, and pleasure burst like fireworks through her vulva and her cunt, radiating out. "You think you're going to – to come while I fuck you?" She whimpered, listening. "You need to come on my thick cock?" He got the words out unevenly, his voice tight. The strain and unsteadiness in his voice was so hot Hermione thought she might melt, or die, her body throbbing with the need to break just one last time.
"Yes," she got out, hips moving, pleasure building. "Yes, I need to. I need to come, please."
"Come on then," Malfoy said, and rolled his hips. "Come for me. You can do it. One last time." He pressed and rubbed against her clit with each thrust, and her insides were buzzing from the Plimsoll's, every sensation heightened acutely. The stretch of her flesh around his cock. The shape of it pushing into her, the rhythm of his thrusts, the explosive, delicious feelings as he hit every sensitive nerve-ending inside her, pleasure blazing; an inferno.
"Come," he said, pulling almost all the way out and then slamming into her hard, and she cried out wordlessly. "Come."
Every time he said the word it felt like Hermione got closer, and so she told him to say it again, and then again, until he understood, and began chanting it low in her ear like a growling litany as she whimpered. Come. Come. Come, Granger. And the sensation – the need – grew, and grew, until finally a spasm wrenched through her, and she did. She came.
It felt like a supernova. It felt like getting wrung out. Sensation consumed her and balled her up as he buried himself deep in her, and all her internal muscles convulsed, and she came on him, around him, clinging to him, half-sobbing with the effort and the pleasure.
"Oh, you're so perfect," he told her softly, as he started to move again. "So pretty when you come. So amazing. So good." Beautiful words, all spilling out of him as though they came straight out of his subconscious mind, bypassing any deliberate thought. She lay there limp and gasping, in a churn of pleasure as he fucked her exactly the way he liked – steady, fast, and not too hard, his head dropped down, mouth against her hairline at her forehead.
When Malfoy came, he made a choked, gasping groan, and his hips stuttered and stuttered before he slammed deep and locked there, making tiny little thrusts, staying deep in her. And then he wrenched in a deep breath and let it out, and all the tension ran out of him. He went nearly limp above her, only enough rigidity left to stop him from smushing her.
"Merlin's fucking balls," he swore, as he all but heaved himself off her, flopping to one side as though she'd drained him of his strength, as well as his cum. "That was fucking incredible."
"Mm. 'Credible," Hermione agreed, panting for air – feeling like a stunned mullet, and nearly numbed from thigh to ribs in the aftermath. "Nearly killed me," she added. "I don't know if I love that stuff…or it terrifies me."
Malfoy laughed breathlessly, rolling his head to look at her. "Bit of both for me. Salazar's sake, it works well. My cock doesn't know what the fuck's going on."
She lifted her head. "Good things," she said, addressing his softening penis, and patted it gently. He flinched, and then laughed again, his hand over his eyes. Hermione snickered, feeling radiant with heat, lax, and amazing. Rejuvenated, and re-energised, as if she could take on the world. And yet, as limp as a dishcloth.
"Shower?" Malfoy asked. "Before Carina wakes up."
"Yes, please," she said. "But you might have to carry me. My legs don't work."
"Right now I barely have the strength to carry myself, Granger. You're shit out of luck."
It took five minutes before she managed to peel herself off the bed. But oh, she felt wonderful. The first time she'd had sex in nearly two months, and it had been fantastic. Beyond fantastic.
"Maybe we will have to thank Blaise," she said as she wobbled toward the bathroom, and he wheezed a laugh as he hauled himself upright too.
"No. Definitely not. That will only encourage him."