“Now, love, you need to stop scowling. You’ll get those ugly little wrinkles around your lips.”
“Don’t you ‘now, love’ me, Zabini,” Hermione glared at the skinny wizard laying across her bed.
“I see we’ve reverted back to our youthful days at Hogwarts,” Blaise said dryly, indigo eyes flashing with amusement as Hermione paced around her bedroom, more annoyed with him because he failed to respond to her need to argue. He arched a raven brow, “Shall I prepare myself for a juvenile hex?”
“Bastard,” she muttered as she growled, “Don’t be all cute and charming! I’m mad at you!”
“I can’t help it,” he shrugged elegantly, “I *am* cute and charming. It’s a curse, I tell you, but c’est la vie.”
“Why?” she finally asked with a sigh as she sat down beside him. “Why did you do it?”
“Because I could,” he said simply, holding up his hand when he saw her start to speak, “You’re the first friend that I’ve ever had, the first person that bothered to speak to me at that blasted school, and I love you as if you were my bossy but cute little sister. I’ve been aware of your infatuation with our dear Mister Malfoy for two years, Hermione, and, since I want you to be happy, I saw an opportunity to aid you in that pursuit of happiness and used it to my advantage .”
“That is the most insane logic that I have ever heard,” she snorted.
“I’ll remind you that I am highly intelligent and graduated in the top of our class,” he smirked, “therefore my logic is perfectly sane. You fancy Malfoy, he fancies you, you’re both too stubborn or scared or whatever adjective is appropriate to acknowledge how you feel, and now you have a week in paradise without interruption to explore those long-denied feelings and whatever else you wish to explore, you naughty vixen, you.”
“Blaise!” she had to laugh at the playful leer he gave her before she turned serious when she saw sincerity in his dark blue eyes, “I don’t know where you get the idea that Draco fancies me and I don’t see how a week on an island somewhere is going to be beneficial. I’ll be surprised if we don’t hex each other within a day. And I am not a naughty vixen!”
“You would both be much happier if you’d let that passion out in more constructive ways that require naked flesh and lots of moaning,” Blaise observed with a mischievous smile, “wouldn’t shagging Malfoy be more enjoyable than arguing with him?”
“Why do I bother?” Hermione threw her hands in the air before she stood up and went back to pacing, trying desperately not to think about shagging Draco.
“Because you love me and I’m usually right,” he offered helpfully as he laid back on her bed, moving his hands behind his head as he remarked, “You really should begin packing. Malfoy is always prompt so he’ll be here soon.”
“Bugger off,” Hermione said sweetly. “Maybe I can just see about breaking the ’date’. If they have the galleons, I don’t see why I should be forced to endure a week of Malfoy’s company.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” Blaise smiled smugly, “it was your auction and doing something like that would draw negative publicity. Besides, you’re dying to go away for a week with Malfoy. I know you, Hermione. You want to see the pasty skinned prat in and out of his swim suit even if you won’t admit it.”
“Do you suppose he wears one?” she asked curiously, “He’s always struck me as the type to not bother wearing anything when swimming. Merlin, I can‘t believe we’re discussing Malfoy and whether or not he wears trunks when swimming.”
“I’m simply laying here being lazy because it is far too early to be awake,” Blaise grinned, “you’re the one having wicked thoughts about Malfoy when you should be packing.”
“Packing? I don’t know what to pack,” she grimaced, “I was not expecting a sudden trip to some island paradise with a wizard that I’ve desired for years. And get that smug look off your face, Zabini! You’re not on the top of my favorite people list at the moment.”
“You forgave me last night,” he reminded her, “as for what to wear, can I suggest as little as possible? I do think it will take blatant nudity to get Malfoy’s head out of his arse to finally make a move.”
“You asked for forgiveness after I’d had two glasses of firewhiskey knowing full well that I can not hold my liquor and that’s why I never drink,” she stuck her tongue out at him before loftily informing him, “it doesn’t count if I’m pissed when you ask! It‘s a rule in the guide to friendship or something, I‘m sure.”
“If I recall, you were thanking me when I brought you back to the flat. ‘Oh, Blaise, you’re my best friend in the world for buying me Malfoy. I’ve lusted for that obnoxious wanker for years and now I can shag him in paradise because you’re so sweet and generous’. You then insisted that I stay in the guest room so you could lavish me with gratitude over breakfast,” he recalled with a smug smile.
“Slytherins are sneaky and smug and smirk too much!” Hermione snapped at him, “And I never said anything about shagging him!”
“Creative license, love,” Blaise laughed, “And, yes, smirking and being smug is in the Slytherin Handbook. It’s nice to know I am making my house proud.”
The tall wizard stood up and moved to her wardrobe, removing items and grimacing before putting them back. She arched a brow as she asked, “What do you think you’re doing, Blaise?”
“I am packing for you,” he gave her a look that suggested she might be a first year Hufflepuff.
“Why?”
“Because he’ll be here soon and you’re not packed. In fact, my dear girl, you’re still wearing your sweatpants and that faded shirt you refuse to toss out,” he glanced at her pajamas.
“I like this shirt. Ron gave it to me,” her humor faded slightly as she looked at the well-worn Chudley Cannons shirt before shaking her head slightly, “but, you’re right. I need to take a shower and change. Can I trust you to pack for me?”
“Of course,” he assured her, his eyes softening as he moved to give her a hug, “I do love you, you know?”
“I know,” she smiled and hugged him back, “but next time you feel like being a good friend, don’t buy me Malfoy.”
“I did promise to get you something original for your birthday,” he pulled back and smiled, “and what better than a gift that keeps on giving?”
“Blaise!” Hermione giggled as she swatted his shoulder, “You’re incorrigible!”
“Go take your shower, love. I’ll pack your bag for the week of debauchery with Malfoy,” he winked before scooting her towards the bathroom, ignoring her protests. Once she was gone, he looked at the wardrobe and made a face before a crafty smile crossed his lips. He removed his wand and went to work on her clothes, making them sexy but subtle, just like his best friend.
Once he was satisfied, he packed them, making sure to put a few of her usual clothes on top in case she happened to check the bag. Content that he had done his best for his two friends, he left the bedroom and sat on the sofa, a pleased smile on his face. Perhaps if this worked as well as he hoped, he could be the best man at their wedding.
**********
The island was beautiful.
They had arrived two days ago, and Hermione had immediately fallen in love with his house and the surrounding island. It had been a surprise to find that the house was quaint and unlike anything she’d have expected from Draco Malfoy. Two story with a huge porch that overlooked the ocean, three bedrooms and a library that she could easily spend days exploring. It was obvious that Draco had chosen the house and made it his own. His touch was everywhere, from the classic antiques to the rich, dark colors to the way everything was organized and clutter free.
When they had first arrived, she had been quite nervous, uncertain how to react to being completely alone with Draco in such an amazingly sensual setting. He’d shown her to her room for the week and left her to unpack, neither mentioning the kiss from the auction. She had discovered further treachery from Blaise when she had opened her luggage to find an assortment of shirts that were much tighter than they had been and skirts that were shorter than before as well as a bathing suit that appeared to made from a few spare napkins, the material less than her knickers.
There had been a piece of parchment in the bottom of her bag, a note from her friend telling her to have fun and be the brave little Gryffindor he knew she was by going after what she wanted before signing off with a sincere note about their friendship and affection. Even as she wanted to curse Blaise for his sudden interest in playing matchmaker, she also wanted to hug him for caring enough to go to such drastic lengths to try to make her happy. She had changed into the most conservative clothing in her bag before meeting Draco downstairs.
He had taken her to see the wizarding village located a short distance from his property, the two of them spending the afternoon and evening walking amongst the quaint shops and having dinner at a lovely seafood restaurant. After the initial awkwardness of not knowing exactly what to say, they’d begun discussing the village and that had opened up a conversation that had lasted for hours about various topics. They had eaten leisurely while they had discussed his business interests and her job and his Mum’s new relationship with Remus, and a dozen other topics that had them smiling and laughing at times and bickering playfully, both enjoying a bit of teasing and name calling despite their normal maturity.
After dinner, they had come back to the house, sitting on the porch and watching the dark ocean in a comfortable silence that was broken up by a random thought or idea. It had been a relaxing and pleasant evening, Hermione feeling as if she had finally gotten to see a bit of the real Draco Malfoy that he usually kept hidden from the world. Her attraction was still present, her feeling for him still bordering on love, her eyes still drifting to his lips when he wasn’t looking, but it had a tranquil evening without the normal nervousness and anxiety she felt when around Draco.
Today had been even better than yesterday. She had woken to find breakfast made, shocked to learn that he did not have any house elves in his island retreat and that he could actually cook without the use of magic. He’d been amused by her disbelief, confessing that his Mum had insisted he learn how to live without house elves during the War just in case he was discovered by Voldemort and had to go into hiding. They had talked over breakfast, the blond wizard admitting he found cooking the Muggle way to be relaxing, that it was very much like Potions, which was always a favorite subject, and that he always cooked for himself when he was on the Island if he did not eat in the village.
After their delicious breakfast, they had set out to explore the island. He had taken her to various places of historical significance amongst the native islanders, his eyes lit with enthusiasm as he shared details that most people would find boring but that she found fascinating. They had walked and explored, the scenery beautiful and her companion absolutely captivating. After dinner in the village, they had returned to the house and she could now hear him in the kitchen getting them something to drink.
Hermione watched the waves, listening to the calming sounds of the ocean, thinking about Draco. She wondered if the kiss had meant nothing to him since he’d not mentioned it even in teasing. There had been times throughout the last two days when she thought he might be flirting with her, catching him looking at her in a way that was unfamiliar and arousing, but he had not done anything to suggest he might feel the same way. The island was so romantic that it was distracting her from her vow to not let him know about her feelings for him. She was dwelling on the kiss they shared, a brief joining of lips that had affected her far more than it should have, wondering if all of his kisses would be so passionate and consuming.
“Here you are, love,” Draco walked onto the porch and handed her a glass of wine before sitting on the pillows beside her. This was one of his favorite spots in his house, a view of the ocean and a place he would often sit and just think about life. His gray eyes casually looked at her profile, his heart speeding up just a bit as he watched her take a drink of her wine. His plan seemed to be working well. She was actually having conversations with him, trusting him with small details of her life and thoughts that she had never shared before, looking at him as if he was a man instead of a former enemy.
He had admitted to himself that afternoon that he might very well be in love with her. That thought had scared him more than any of the meetings he’d had with Voldemort or any battle he had fought. Lust, desire, respect, admiration, want, need. Those were the words he tended to associate with Hermione, not knowing her well enough to ever go beyond the base need and desire. Actually, that wasn’t entirely true.
He knew her quite well, having spent years observing her and learning quite a bit about the brunette witch that rarely left his thoughts. However, she did not know him and that had kept him from ever contemplating anything more than the desire he felt, ignoring any other confusing feelings she brought about in him. That was changing, though, because she was starting to know him better than anyone else.
They had spoken more over the last two days than in the last few years, Draco finding himself sharing personal information that he’d never told anyone, not even aware that he was talking as he looked into her curious amber eyes and told her more than he intended. She had done the same thing, her eyes widening at times as she’d be talking as if she realized she was discussing something personal and private with Draco Malfoy, but she’d not hesitated in continuing to talk. It hadn’t all been sweetness and conversation, of course.
They were far too stubborn and opinionated to have made it through two days without a couple of arguments. The most explosive had been that afternoon. She’d wanted to walk to a waterfall but he’d insisted it was too far after they’d spent hours all ready exploring the island, telling her they could go the next day. That had led to bickering and a bit of teasing as she’d suggested he didn’t have the stamina to walk further while he had suggested she had a need to control everything. Words had been exchanged, a bit more fierce than the recent playful banter, but it had dissolved as quickly as it had begun when they’d both been facing one another and he’d nearly kissed her. She’d turned away, declaring that she was a bit tired and wouldn’t mind getting something to eat, her hand nervously running through her gorgeous hair. He was pulled from the memories of that afternoon when she looked at him, emotions he’d never seen before in her eyes.
“Thank you,” Hermione spoke softly, her eyes catching his as he gave her a curious look. She was taking a risk by beginning a discussion that was serious and could change everything, but she knew it was necessary. If he trusted her enough to talk about this, if she could talk to him, then there might be a chance for them and she had realized after a lot of soul searching since the auction in Hogsmeade that she was willing to take the risk of rejection to be with Draco.
“While I appreciate gratitude and can think of any number of areas in which thanks should be given to me, may I inquire why, in particular, you’re thanking me this evening?” he arched a pale brow and tried to pretend that he wasn’t interested.
“For the property,” she saw his eyes flash with surprise and continued, “the committee sent a nice note to you regarding your donation, but I never thanked you personally. I know it was worth a lot of galleons and, well, I wanted you to know that I am grateful for you giving it to us.”
“Money isn’t everything, Hermione,” he said dryly, trying to conceal his reaction to her words. He had received the formal letter from the committee with a dozen signatures but no one except for his Mum had said anything to him about the donation. He hadn’t given the building expecting recognition, preferring, in a way, that no one knew the extent of his support to the survivors of the Second War. Seeing that his harsh words had not distract her, he shrugged, “It was the least I could do so can we please change the topic?”
“Do you know the day I realized there was more to you than I’d ever thought?” Hermione took another sip of her wine as she stupidly decided to follow Blaise’s advice.
“I think you’ve had too much wine this evening and will probably wake tomorrow regretting whatever it is your about to say,” Draco sighed, his fingers moving through his hair as he shook his head slightly, “we can finish this conversation some time when you’re sober.”
“I’ve had two glasses of wine all evening, Draco. You’re not going to be able to run away by declaring me pissed,” her words were somewhat sharp, softening when she saw the slight look of panic and fear in his eyes, “this is something I need to say, that I should have said years ago but I was too scared.”
“You’re not scared of anything, Hermione,” his voice was a whisper as he tried to figure out what was happening. They’d been having a fun day, casual and friendly, and now she was determined to get serious and possibly say something that could either make him the happiest wizard in the world or ruin all of his hopes for a future. It was too soon, she didn’t know him well enough to make a decision regarding the possibility of a relationship with him, she barely even trusted him. Maybe he could obliviate her and start over, let her think that she’d fallen asleep while listening to the waves.
“I’m scared of so many things, Draco,” Hermione’s laugh was without humor. Her eyes grew determined as she spoke, “It was a couple of months after the Final Battle. I went to St. Mungos to visit Ron and you were sitting with him, reading to him from that book that always calms him down. You were so patient with him, and that was when he was still in so much pain and confusion that I even had problems maintaining my patience. It was that moment, watching you placate a man that I knew you disliked and really cared nothing about in particular, that I realized I had never really known you at all. I know you still visit him, Draco. He‘s told me, in his own way, that he enjoys those visits.”
“Don’t look at me like that,” he muttered crossly, “I’m no hero, Hermione. My reasons for volunteering are completely unlike your own. You visit and help because you want to do good, want to ease their pain or provide them companionship for a brief period of time. I do it for selfish reasons, to try to ease my own guilt. Bloody hell, I’m not talking about this.”
“Let me in, Draco,” she held her breath, watching his eyes flash as his grip tightened around his glass. She thought they might have a chance together, honestly believed that Blaise was right and Draco did return her feelings after spending the past two days with him, and that was giving her the courage to be so vocal and open about her feelings.
“I can’t,” he said hoarsely, taking a long drink of his wine, staring at the ocean, his words so quiet she almost didn‘t hear them, “if I do, you’ll never want me. You’ll hate me and I can’t…Merlin, just don’t ask. Please don’t make me talk about it.”
“I could never hate you.”
“You should. You should hate me,” he took another drink of wine, his tongue moving along his lips as he stared at the waves. “I killed so many people. Over two years as a Deatheater, Hermione. It didn’t matter that I was spying for the Order or that information I was passing along was saving people. I had to torture and kill and pretend as if I was enjoying it to avoid drawing his suspicion. I was good at it, the torture and the game, knowing exactly how to play and how to stay detached so I wouldn’t care. I couldn’t care because that would be a weakness and he’d find it immediately.”
“You did what you had to do, Draco,” she said softly, her hand moving to lay on top of his.
“I could have helped Weasley,” he looked at her then, his eyes clouded with guilt and regret, “I didn’t know they intended to get him, but I could have done something to free him once I found out. I never liked him but no one deserved what they did to him. Killing him would have been a kindness.”
“You gave Remus the information needed for a rescue,” Hermione reminded him, “you saved him, Draco. You helped save so many people. We all killed. It was War and death was inevitable. Do you think that I don’t have nightmares? For the first few months after the Final Battle, I couldn’t sleep more than two hours without waking up screaming from the things I did and the things I saw. I still have nightmares and I know I always will because it was a horrible time for all of us. You risked your life every day for over two years by spying for the Order and you helped us win, helped us defeat Voldemort.”
“You really don’t hate me,” he stared into her eyes and saw understanding and compassion, “I did things I’m not proud of, Hermione. Things that will haunt me for the rest of my life, that I will never speak about to anyone, and I can’t forget or forgive myself. I know it was War and I know that I helped save a lot of people, but that doesn’t take away the faces of the people I had to torture and kill, it doesn’t soften their screams, it doesn’t mean that I deserve to be loved.”
“You’re more deserving than anyone, Draco,” she whispered as her fingers entwined with his. “Volunteering, it helps you, doesn’t it?”
“Yes,” he nodded slowly, “there were so many I couldn’t save, but visiting the survivors, knowing I did help save some of them, it makes it seem worthwhile. It eases the guilt a bit. Bloody hell, why are we talking about this? I’ve never spoken to anyone about that time.”
“No one else has noticed,” Hermione said quietly, “you have a good act, Draco. I think you’ve perfected the act over the years. Uncaring, arrogant, superior Pureblood that only cares about himself and how things affect him. You even had most of the members of the Order believing that you were spying to keep your property and wealth and protect your Mum, but I know you did it because you knew that Voldemort was a monster and could see that he was wrong.”
“You give me far too much credit, Hermione,” he smirked slightly, “I *am* arrogant and superior and very fond of my Mum and my wealth.”
“I know you’re spoiled and obnoxious, but I also know there is more to you than that image you project,” Hermione turned to face him, wanting him to understand why she was talking about such a serious topic, needing him to realize what she wanted. “I saw you, the real you, when I watched you reading to Ron years ago. Since then, I’ve seen glimpses of the real Draco several times when you weren’t aware anyone was watching. I understand about images and facades, I have my own that I use to keep people from seeing the insecure, nervous and scared girl that I am a lot of the time. I’m willing to let you see me, Draco, the good and the bad.”
“Why?” the word was a whisper, his eyes staring into hers as he moved his hand so that hers was cradled in it, palm against palm.
Instead of replying, Hermione leaned forward and gently brushed her lips against his. Pulling back, she could feel the blush spreading over her cheeks, unable to believe that she’d just kissed Draco. She started to move away, deciding that she’d obviously made a mistake because he’d not reacted at all, stammering an apology as she looked anywhere but him. She was so caught up in her embarrassment that she didn’t realize he’d tightened his grip on her hand, gasping as she felt herself pulled forward, his lips claiming hers in a passionate kiss.
Draco knew something had changed between them. He wasn’t sure when or how, but he wasn’t stupid enough to spend his time asking questions when he could be kissing Hermione. He had intended to spend the week getting to know her and slowly seducing her, wanting her to accept him willingly and to know that he wanted more than just a shag. Trust her to ruin his plans by forcing him to open up, by taking the control out of his hands and admitting her feelings first. She always did like to best him, he thought fondly before he deepened the kiss, all thoughts fleeing his mind as he gave himself over to the pleasure of being with Hermione.
She laid back against the pillows as they kissed, the sounds of the ocean and native birds surrounding them as they devoured one another’s mouths. His hand moved along her side, gentle and explorative, his body above hers as they spent time just kissing and touching on the porch. Her hands were hesitant, a bit shy, as she caressed his arm and back, fingers tangling in the soft blond hair that framed his handsome face. His hands were more confident, more assured, moving beneath her shirt and touching her bare stomach before drifting higher. She gasped when she felt his rough palm slide along her ribcage before enclosing around her breast, his tongue stroking hers as his thumb brushed against her nipple.
Hermione felt his erection against her leg, rubbing against it experimentally and hearing his soft moan as his hand tightened around her breast. Reluctantly releasing his lips, she looked at him as he raised his head, seeing the desire in his eyes. She moved her hand along his cheek, asking softly, “What is this, Draco?”
“I believe they call it snogging,” he smiled smugly when he saw the arousal in her eyes, laughing when she rolled her eyes.
“You’re such a prat,” her lips curved into an affectionate smile.
“But I’m a handsome, charming, and wealthy prat,” he reminded her before he moved his tongue over her lips, nibbling on her bottom lip as she moaned softly.
“If you keep doing that, I’m not going to be able to think,” she protested breathlessly as he kissed her jaw and neck, his fingers continuing to tease her nipple.
“You think too much,” he declared before he kissed her again, feeling her move against him to get closer. He slowly made love to her mouth, letting his actions answer her question, not able to put his feelings into words. When he released her lips this time, his eyes were vulnerable as he quietly asked, “What do you want, Hermione?”
“You,” she replied passionately, “I want you, Draco. I need you.”
His lips curved into a pleased smile as he stood up, lifting her into his arms, his eyes meeting hers as he admitted, “I’ve wanted this for so bloody long.”
“Me too,” she echoed honestly, moving her lips against his neck as he carried her up the stairs to his bedroom. A part of her wondered if it was too soon, if things were moving too fast, this only the second day that they’d ever really spent as friends, but she knew what she felt, what she wanted. They’d had years of becoming closer, of getting to know each other, of bickering and talking and flirting and teasing, of falling in love.
His last kiss had left no doubt in her mind as to the depth of emotion he felt for her, words not necessary as he had tenderly kissed her, his hands gently caressing her, his eyes reflecting so many emotions. She was thankful that she took Muggle birth control to help with her monthly cycle, not sure if she could remember the words to the contraceptive charms right now, not even sure she could remember her own name when he kissed her so thoroughly.
He placed Hermione on the bed, simply looking at her and wondering what he’d done to deserve her. He was too selfish to bother trying to convince her that he wasn’t good enough for her in so many ways because he knew that he could love her the way she deserved. Draco watched her look at the bed nervously before blushing and giving him a shy smile. Was she having second thoughts? “Are you okay?”
“I’ve never done this before,” she watched his eyes flash at her words, not able to place the emotion but feeling heat spread over her at the very masculine smile that crossed his lips.
“I’ll do my best to be gentle,” he assured her, resisting the urge to grin outright at the knowledge that he was going to be her first lover, her only if he had anything to say about it. But that realization changed things. He would have to be patient, go slow, make sure she was ready for him. He wasn’t exactly known for his patience but he wanted her to enjoy this so he’d try.
“I trust you.”
Three words that meant more to him than just about anything else she could have said, save for I love you. Draco walked to her, his lips catching hers as moved her against the bed. She laid down, her head resting on his pillow, his mouth on hers. His hand moved beneath her shirt, fondling her other breast as they kissed. He wanted nothing more than to strip off her knickers and sink deep inside her, claiming her as his, resisting that primal urge by slowly teasing her nipple and moving his lips against hers and down her jaw before focusing on the smooth column of her neck.
“Draco,” she whimpered as his hand moved beneath her bra to touch her bare skin, her body arching against his muscular frame seeking more contact. He looked up at her and smiled wickedly, that smile sending a wave of arousal throughout her body. His hand moved behind her back, indicating that she should sit up. She did so, her cheeks turning red as he pulled her shirt over her head, freeing her hair from the clip she’d used to keep it under some sort of control during their exploration of the island. She stared at the blanket as she heard her shirt being tossed to the floor, wanting to wrap her arms around her chest as she sat before him wearing only her bra and skirt.
Draco moved his fingers beneath her chin, raising her head so he could look into her amber eyes, “You’re so beautiful.”
Hermione exhaled softly as she saw the sincerity in his eyes, her lips brushing against his as she fell back against the mattress. He kissed his way down her neck, his fingers deftly unfastening her bra and removing the scrap of cloth. She gasped when his wet mouth enveloped her nipple, his tongue flicking the hardened nub as her hand tangled in his hair and the other gripped the blanket beneath her. He divided his attention between her breasts, sucking and licking and nibbling her flesh as his hand drifted down her ribcage.
Moving his hand behind her, he unzipped her skirt. She raised her hips, letting him slide it past her hips , using his leg to push it down her legs. She moaned when his thigh rubbed against her knickers, spreading her legs slightly and arching against him. Draco smiled against her breast as he listened to her sounds, his cock hardening even more, if that was possible. Fingers traced the contours of her stomach, his thumb dipping into her belly button as his hand moved lower. When he reached her panties, he cupped her pussy, his fingers finding the material wet, his fingers pressing against her and rubbing her slowly.
Draco changed positions, settling between her legs, raising to his knees as he released her breast. He caught her eyes, loving the desire and affection he saw, his fingers unbuttoning his shirt and removing it, tossing it on the floor with her shirt. She smiled as she looked at him, her hand moving to trace the muscles in his chest before drifting lower, past his flat abdomen, brushing through the blond hair that trailed down his lower stomach before disappearing into the waist of his trousers. He caught her hand before she could reach his erection, scolding playfully, “Not yet, love.”
“Tease,” she smiled as she looked at him, deciding that he had to be the sexiest man alive. It wasn’t just his looks, which were very handsome. It was a quality that was uniquely his own, a charisma, a confidence and an allure that made her body heat up with just a look from him. He was making her feel so alive, so desires, so loved. He just grinned at her insult before lowering his head and licking her stomach. She watched as his head moved lower, his eyes on her face as his teeth brushed against her abdomen.
He gripped her knickers with his teeth, watching her eyes darken to a golden brown as she lifted her arse. His hands went behind her, pulling the material past her cheeks, using his teeth to remove them because he could tell she found it exciting. Inhaling the sweet scent of her sex as he pulled the panties down, he released them, running his tongue along the wet folds of her pussy. She cried out in surprise at his action, his hand pulling the scrap of material down as she moved her legs to help get them off. Once he tossed the soaking panties to the floor, he moved into a comfortable position and began to taste her.
She was so wet, her juices flowing freely, just as passionate and responsive as he’d always imagined. Using two fingers, he spread her open, looking away from her eyes to look at her most intimate area. Lowering his head, Draco ran his tongue along her lips, tasting her essence. “Delicious,” he muttered as his eyes once again looked at her face, watching her as he began to move his tongue against her. She was flushed, beads of sweat dripping down her face, her lips swollen from their many kisses, a mark on her neck that he’d made out of a need to show she was his, and he couldn’t recall seeing anything more beautiful in his life as she moaned huskily and writhed on the bed as he lapped at her pussy.
He curled his tongue and thrust it into her, his sharp nose brushing against her clit as he teased her, his hands cupping her arse as he pulled her closer, tonguing her as her thighs clenched around his head. She was thrusting against his face, the sounds she was making like music. He removed his tongue, letting it rest for a bit as he pushed two fingers into her. Merlin, she was tight, two fingers moving inside her and slowly stretching her, juices coating his hand as he added a third finger, trying to get her ready for him. His mouth moved over her clit, sucking hard as she rode his fingers. She was gasping and moaning his name repeatedly, his tongue flicking her clit once and sending her over the edge. Her body arched off the bed, muscles tightening, her release flooding his hands and lips, a keen of pleasure escaping her lips as she came.
Draco raised his face, his tongue running along his lips before he sucked his fingers, moaning softly as he licked his fingers clean. Moving swiftly, he caught her lips as laid against her, her wet pussy rubbing against his cloth covered erection. He didn’t protest when she pushed him back to lay against the bed, her lips moving from his as she caressed her cheek. She then began to kiss his jaw and neck, licking his adam’s apple before drifting lower. It was his turn to moan as she tentatively ran her tongue over his nipple, looking at him to see if she was doing it right. With a slight smile at the desire evident in his eyes, she seemed to realize that he was enjoying what she was doing and went back to it.
Hermione loved watching his face twist with pleasure, knowing that she had caused it, wanting to give him more. She wasn’t exactly confident with her sexuality and seductive skills, knowing the actions from her readings but not having any practical experience. Catching his eyes, she deliberately moved her lips over the faint scarring that had faded upon Voldemort’s death, kissing the flesh of his upper arm where the dark mark had resided for over two years, letting him know that she accepted all of him and his past, good and bad.
His fingers tangled in her hair as he pulled her towards him for a desperate kiss, her hands moving over his bare skin before she broke the kiss. With a mischievous smile, she brushed her lips down his stomach, licking and nibbling like he had done to her. He groaned when she kissed his lower abdomen, her hands moving to unfasten his trousers. Sitting up, she forgot her nudity as she pulled his pants down, leaving him wearing a pair of dark blue boxers that made his pale skin look even more ethereal. His erection was pressing against the material, a large bulge that caught her attention.
Draco bit his lip to keep from moaning as she sat and looked at his body as if he were a tasty treat. Her body was flushed and sweaty, her curly brown locks brushing against her sensitive and wet breasts, looking very much like his own Goddess as she looked into his eyes and smiled lovingly. He watched her hands move to his boxers, raising his hips as she removed them. Her eyes widened as his cock sprang free, hard and erect, coated with his precum. He moaned low in his throat when her soft hair brushed against his shaft, his eyes narrowing slightly as a faint flush crossed his pale flesh, a muscle in his cheek twitching as she ran her tongue over his erection.
He tasted salty, slightly bitter, but it wasn’t a bad taste at all, she decided as she ran her tongue along his length a second time. Opening her mouth, she slowly enveloped his cock, knowing the mechanisms of this act and finding that it was much more enjoyable than she’d imagined. She began to suck him, her tongue moving along the contours of his shaft, making small movements as she adjusted to having her jaws opened so wide, breathing through her nose as she kept bobbing her head until her nose was brushing against the light blond curls surrounding his erection.
She moved her hand to caress his balls, his body arching and nearly choking her. Pulling her head back, she coughed lightly, smiling sheepishly before she moved her jaw a bit to take away the ache and lowered her head again. He stopped her, pulling her up so he could kiss her, murmuring, “Too close, love,” as he gently pushed her back against the bed. Draco kissed her, tasting himself on her tongue, moving his body between her legs. Brushing his cock against her wetness, he released her lips, kissing her cheek before whispering, “I need you, Hermione.”
“Please,” she moved against him, her fingers tangling in his hair as she nibbled on his lip.
“This might hurt,” he warned softly before he began to enter her. He groaned as her tightness enveloped him, making shallow thrusts as she moaned beneath him, going a bit deeper every time. When he felt himself reach her maidenhood, he kissed her before penetrating her completely. She dug her fingernails into his back as he took her virginity, staying inside her to give her time to adjust to the intrusion as he continued kissing her. This was paradise, he decided, or heaven or any number of other cliches that always sounded incredibly sappy until one was experiencing them personally. When her muscles clenched around him and she squirmed beneath him, he knew she was ready and slowly began to move.
The pain was momentary, soon replaced by intense pleasure as he thrust into her. He started off slowly, their bodies moving together as they kissed and caressed one another. She felt his rough palm on her breast, squeezing the plump flesh and playing with her nipple as he moved within her. Her foot moved over his leg, feeling the scattering of hair beneath her flesh, his body beginning to move faster, deeper, their lips parting as her head laid against the pillow, his breath on her neck, kissing and licking her skin as they made love. She could feel the tension building, her body arching to meet his thrusts, needing more, wanting release. He raised his head and looked at her, eyes meeting as he whispered so softly she almost didn’t hear it, “I love you.”
That was all it took. The emotion and sincerity in his eyes sent her over the edge. She came with a moan of his name, her body tightening before shuddering beneath his. His fingers brushed through her hair as he kept penetrating her, grinding against her sensitive clit on each downward thrust, his lips moving against hers passionately, possessively, claiming her as surely as he’d claimed her body and mind, wanting her soul so that he could completely own her. She kissed him back with none of her previous shyness, wanting him to know that she owned him just as he owned her. He entered her deeply and came, grunting as his body convulsed, his seed spilling into her. Her muscles milked his release from his shaft, his face buried in her hair, his breath on her neck as he moaned softly.
Hermione held him as he collapsed against her, her hands moving over his arm and back as he nuzzled her neck. She didn’t even hesitate as she whispered, “I love you, Draco.”
Looking up at her, he smiled gently, kissing her again as he slowly eased out of her sore pussy. Laying beside her, he reached for his wand, “Accio blanket,” he watched as the blanket in the chair came towards them. He covered them up before lazily using his wand to turn off the light and send a few lit candles into the air. Placing the wand back on his table, he pulled her into his arms, his leg going around one of hers as he laid his head on the pillow and simply looked at her beautiful face bathed in candlelight. “I’m not an easy man to love, Hermione. I’m jealous and possessive and spoiled and not at all romantic or sappy and I don’t really know how to love so I’ll probably fuck it up a lot, but I’d like to try to love you the way you deserve.”
“Well, I’ve never been in a relationship before either so I guess we can learn together,” she smiled as she brushed a lock of hair from his forehead. “We can think about it later, Draco. Right now, I’m rather exhausted and a bit sleepy since a certain sexy wizard just shagged me senseless.”
“I did promise that you’d get your galleons worth,” a smug smile crossed his handsome face, his eyes flashing with happiness as she laughed.
“Incorrigible prat,” she said fondly as she snuggled against him, his arm around her waist and her head on his shoulder.
“Bossy know-it-all,” he smirked, his eyes catching hers as his voice softened, “You look tired, love. We can talk tomorrow. After all, we have the rest of our lives to talk, bicker and shag.”
“I‘m glad you were my gift. Remind me to send Blaise a thank you note when we get home,” she smiled at the look in his eyes as he spoke of their future, kissing him again before she whispered, “Sweet dreams, Draco.”
“Good-night, Hermione,” he replied softly as he watched her close her eyes and snuggle closer, deciding that this was how he wanted to go to sleep every night, with her naked body cradled in his arms and her breath warm against his chest. He watched her in the candlelight as she slept, still a bit amazed that he finally had her in his life, in his arms, in his future. Soon, his eyes slowly drifted shut as he followed his lover into a peaceful slumber.
*The end*