The ballroom is far too crowded. It’s nearly impossible to get through the groups of people who are talking, laughing, and dancing. The costumes are vivid bursts of color against the black and white decorations. The invitations had requested that no one wear black or white and it seems that everyone actually listened. The orchestra plays a variety of music that keeps people moving on the dance floor but doesn’t overpower the conversations happening all over.
Hermione is ready to leave by the time she’s been there half an hour. She has made certain that her Department Head has seen her, actually shared a dance with him and exchanged polite chit chat about the decorations, and knows she can escape now without being noticed. Crowds have never been one of her favorite things and it’s boring to wander around alone. It would be different if her date had attended with her, she knew, but Blaise had canceled that afternoon via an apologetic floo call. When she’d considered just staying home, he’d encouraged her to go without him because he’d heard her mention that her boss wanted everyone to at least make an appearance.
So now she is here alone, wearing the costume that would have matched his and looking very much like a wench without a pirate. The bodice of her dark blue gown is far too low cut in her opinion and she isn’t very happy with the amount of leg that is flashed whenever she walks. She had thought it had been a sexy costume without being inappropriate when she’d chosen it, but that had been when he’d been behind her wearing his tight breeches and half-laced shirt with a sensual smile on his lips that had led to her being ravaged right there in the dressing room.
She scans the room looking for anyone familiar. It’s difficult when everyone is wearing a mask, though some people are obvious even with part of their faces covered. In her case, the silly feathered mask she was handed as she arrived did nothing to hide her hair, which is cascading down her back in loose curls that are just a bit too wild to ever be tamed. She knows Harry and Ron are around somewhere, but they seem to have disappeared during her dance with Mister Jenkins.
“Go to the garden, Hermione.”
The voice is low, husky, and warm against her ear. For a moment, she thinks she recognizes it, but she can't be certain. She turns quickly but no one is standing there. Her gaze narrows as she surveys the area behind her, but no one is paying any attention to her or appears to be the person who just whispered at her. There are large pillars everywhere so whoever was whispering in her ear obviously had plenty of places to hide. The garden? It’s silly to even be tempted to obey the directions. It was a man’s voice but, beyond that, she didn’t have enough time to place it. She’s far too curious to not go, however, and soon manages to make her way out of the ballroom so she can go down to the lavish gardens.
The air is cooler than she expects and she shivers slightly as she adjusts to the difference in temperature. The gardens at the large hotel where the party is being held are massive. There are labyrinths of hedges, flowers she’s never seen before, and paths that wind through the area that are completely concealed from view. She has wanted to explore the garden since she arrived but had no intentions to actually do so as she preferred to leave and wait for him to get home.
The thought of Blaise makes her hesitate. He’s at work tonight, stuck in Tokyo at a conference for the company he co-owns with Draco. When he floo’d her that morning, he had told her he still had one meeting left that had unfortunately been postponed until that evening so he couldn’t get back in time for the party. She understands, of course, even if she’s disappointed that he can’t be there tonight. Still, she'll be happy when his conference is over, and he can return home. For now, she's had two weeks of lonely nights while he's been in Japan, and she's currently roaming around the garden because some strange voice told her to.
It's ridiculous, of course. She shouldn't be out here regardless of the desire for the voice to have been familiar. She turns to go back to the ballroom so she can get her coat and leave when a hand reaches for her arm. She glances down at the black leather glove and notices the long fingers encased in soft leather. A warm presence moves behind her as the leather slides up and down her arm.
“Where are you going, Hermione?”
The way he says her name and the husky tone makes her catch her breath but he’s still speaking far too quietly for her to know for sure. “I’m married,” she tells him firmly. She may have been curious about him and the garden but she has no intentions of allowing that curiosity to go further than trying to see who he was and why he'd seemed familiar. “Please let go of my arm.”
“If you’re married, why are you meeting strangers in the garden?”
There’s an edge to his voice that makes her frown. “I was curious,” she admits, “but I need to go now. I’m flattered, of course, but I don’t want anyone except my husband.”
“Curiosity is a two edged sword, isn’t it?” The voice is a warm breath against her neck. “You give in and risk the consequences while also finding out the answer. You have to determine if the reward is worth the risk. Do you think the reward is worth facing the consequences, little lion?”
Hermione tenses because it’s been years since she’s heard those two words: little lion. Blaise used to call her that when they had been going through their tempestuous courtships because he knew it irritated her how so many in their world defined people solely by House and characteristics they had possessed as an eleven year old child. “My husband used to call me that,” she murmurs. “But he’s away on business and told me he couldn’t get back in time to attend the ball this evening.”
“Perhaps he heard the disappointment you failed to conceal well and demanded his meeting be rescheduled immediately so that he could make it back before this ball was finished.” The man behind her brushes his lips against her neck. “Maybe he arrived late and just watched you for a while and decided this was the perfect opportunity to be daring and do something to help make up for being gone so many days.”
Hermione is relaxed now that she’s figured out it’s Blaise behind her, but she’s still playing his game because she’s curious what he has planned. “My husband would know that there’s no need to make up for having to work. Besides, he’s daring quite often because he enjoys testing boundaries and helping me lose my inhibitions.”
“You look beautiful tonight,” he says, moving his hand down her ribs to rest on her hip. “A delectable wench just waiting to be pillaged by a dastardly pirate. Tell me, Hermione. Do you want to be my wench tonight?”
“While pillaged doesn’t sound very romantic or sexy, I think I’d like to be your wench.” Hermione smiles when he kisses her neck.
“Good. Walk down that path until you reach the bench then make a left.” Blaise gives her directions, and she starts walking. He follows her, not letting go of her hip as they walk. “Now turn and walk to that flowering bush. Be quiet, love.”
She isn’t sure why she has to be quiet, but she’s playing his game, so she obeys. When they reach the bush, she is surprised to see two people in the clearing. The man is wearing a pirate costume, too, and his mask does little to hide the familiar blond hair that is falling across his forehead. The woman is on her knees with her back towards Hermione, so she can only see what appears to be a wig that accompanies whatever costume the woman is wearing.
“Blaise, we should leave,” she whispers, trying not to stare as the woman holds Draco’s cock and licks the tip. Hermione knows its Draco regardless of the mask because she’s very familiar with him. He’s around all the time since he’s Blaise’s business partner as well as his best friend, and he’s even joined them in bed quite a few times over the years. He would probably join them more often, in a more permanent way, if asked, but Hermione’s had reservations about how such an arrangement would actually remain solid and balanced. Watching him with another woman is causing conflicting emotions. She’s aroused by the sight, but she’s also slightly jealous.
“I know how you like to watch, sweetheart,” Blaise whispers against her ear as he squeezes her breast. “I saw them sneaking out here when I arrived, and I thought I’d surprise you. It’s a little more entertaining than some boring party, isn’t it? Watch them, Hermione.”
“We shouldn’t,” she murmurs when he removes his hand. Not only is it a violation of the couple’s privacy, it’s just not right to watch someone who isn’t aware they’re being watched. Even if it’s Draco, he might not appreciate them watching without his knowledge. She certainly doesn’t want them to get caught up in a sexy game and risk his animosity if he finds out. The woman now has his cock in her mouth, and Hermione can’t look away.
“I’m not,” Blaise mutters as he tugs her dress down enough so that her breasts spill over the fabric. “It’s for you to watch while I pillage my gorgeous wench right here where anyone could see us, where they could hear and look over to find you spying on them.”
The leather is soft but rough as he pulls on her nipples, twisting them as he speaks, and she presses back against him to rub her arse against his erection. The risk of being caught excites her, though she’d never actually want someone to find them like this. It is one thing to think about being watched but quite another to actually have some stranger watch.
“It’s wrong,” she whispers as she reluctantly looks away from the couple. She’d be upset if someone spied on them so she knows she can’t keep watching. Blaise’s lips move against her neck, his teeth scraping against her skin. He moves his hands past her belly, gripping her hips lightly as he pulls her back against him.
“They like to be watched,” Blaise tells her as he begins to pull up her skirt. “Draco wants you to watch him, sweetheart. It’s part of the game.”
“I’m not sure I like this game,” she murmurs, turning back to face the couple because Blaise said it’s arranged and not spying in secret. If they’re exhibitionists, she can understand that and enjoy the performance with a clear conscious.
“Liar,” he accuses, kneading her breasts and dragging leather covered fingertips across her nipples while he uses his other hand to gather her skirt up. “Watch them.” He moves his hand over the crotch of her knickers, back and forth in lazy movements that are designed to tease and not satisfy.
Hermione watches. Draco is staring at them, his fingers tangled in the hair of the woman who is sucking his cock. It’s almost like she doesn’t exist, which makes Hermione feel guilty, in a way, like they’re just using the poor thing for their own twisted game of pleasure. Hopefully, Blaise is right about them both being aware they’re being watched and that is exciting the woman enough that there’s no need to feel guilty. Blaise is still stroking her through her knickers and kneading her breast, and Draco is thrusting into the woman’s mouth while staring at them.
“She’s enjoying this,” Blaise whispers. “See how she’s touching herself? Her hand is under her skirt, and she’s riding her fingers while he fucks her face. She likes being watched even more than she likes sucking his cock. That’s what makes her perfect for this game, sweetheart. She’s under no illusions that he wants her for anything more than a quickie so his lovers can watch him.”
“How did you know…” She trails off because Blaise has tightened his grip on her breast and is rubbing himself against her arse.
“I know you, love. You won’t just enjoy this if you start worrying about the woman or about him not knowing et cetera.” Blaise kisses the curve of her jaw. “Daphne prefers cunt to cock, but she’s an exhibitionist who gets off on the idea of being used for pleasure. She agreed to this before the Tokyo trip interfered with our plans, but she was eager to continue with the plan when we realized we could make it back in time.”
Daphne. That’s who the woman is. Hermione actually feels better knowing her identity, and she’s aware of Daphne’s preference to women since there had been a brief relationship with Katie Bell a couple of years ago. “He’s being rough with her,” Hermione murmurs, watching Draco thrust deep and buck his hips so fast that she knows he’s almost ready to come.
“And she enjoys it.” Blaise finally pushes her knickers down and drags his leather clad fingers across her wet lips. “Do you wish it was you? Kneeling down on the cobblestone with his cock in your mouth while I take you from behind? Or do you want him here, on his knees with his face buried in your sweet cunt?”
“I don’t like it,” she admits softly. “Seeing him with someone else. He’s ours, isn’t he, Blaise?”
Blaise groans against her neck and pressed a finger inside her, the leather sliding in easily with how wet she is right now. “Yes, he is, love. He’s ours, if you want him.”
“He’s about to come.” She can recognize the expression on Draco’s face, and she pushes back against Blaise, rolling her hips slightly as he adds a second finger to her. “I don’t know how she’s still taking him. He’s brutal with his thrusts. Merlin, they’re so hot.”
“Watch his face as he comes. He’s still staring at us, probably wishing it was you he was fucking so hard.” Blaise nips at her neck before sucking the flesh into his mouth, and she knows it’s going to leave a mark. Draco grunts when he comes, pulling out and stroking himself so that he spills on Daphne’s face. Hermione watches as Daphne begins to move her body, obviously pleasuring herself, her head falling back as she cries out her own release.
Blaise moves his hand before Hermione can come. She growls softly, reaching down to grip his wrist. “Need more,” she whines, wanting her own orgasm. Blaise just laughs against her shoulder. She watches Daphne stand up and look at them, come dripping from her mask and chin, a wicked smile on her lips. She blows them a kiss before patting Draco’s cheek and walking away, strong and confident and sexual in a way that makes Hermione’s gaze follow her out of the clearing. In that moment, Hermione finds herself wanting another woman for the first time in her life, and she wonders if Blaise might get it for her once if she asks nicely.
While she’s been watching Daphne’s swaying hips, Draco has moved across the small area to join them. She returns his kiss while Blaise pushes his fingers back inside her. One of Draco’s fingers joins Blaise’s, and she whines at how full she feels now. “I’m going to fuck you now, love,” Blaise whispers, and she can hear noises behind her as he unfastens the trousers of his pirate costume. Draco helps tug her skirt up in the back, leaning down to lick at her breasts and suck her nipples while Blaise gets ready. When Blaise slides into her, she gasps and leans against Draco for support. Blaise grips her as he begins to thrust, hard and deep, no pretense at teasing after everything he’s already done.
“Beautiful,” Draco murmurs, just stepping back and watching them for a moment before he drops to his knees. He leans forward to lick at her clit and cunt while Blaise fucks her, and she knows he’s licking Blaise’s cock, too. She moves her hand so that she can grip his hair, rolling her hips and moving between his tongue and Blaise’s cock.
The dual stimulation is too much, especially after what she’s just watched, and she comes quietly. There’s just a soft sigh as her body tenses then trembles, closing her eyes as she lets the feelings consume her. Blaise follows soon, spilling inside her and continuing to make shallow thrusts until he’s spent and slides out of her. Draco is immediately there licking at their combined release, slurping and moaning as he earns a second smaller orgasm from her.
“Okay, love?” Blaise asks after, gently pulling the top of her dress back up and kissing her thoroughly.
“I’m good.” It’s an understatement, of course. Hermione’s better than good. She’s sated and feeling lazy and happy to have him back and pleased to have Draco there, too. She isn’t going to make any rash decisions, no matter how exciting the sex, but she thinks she’s ready to possibly look into the triad relationship option that Blaise and Draco have mentioned in the past. There are precedents for such a thing in the wizarding world, so it is acceptable even if it’s not common, and she knows that her feeling of possessiveness when it comes to Draco isn’t likely just a passing emotion. He’s theirs, after all, so why not make it official?
“I’m good, too, not that anyone seems to care,” Draco mutters, sulking at them as he stands up and dusts off the knees of his trousers.
“Come here,” she says, leaning up to give him a kiss, too. He presses in close, trapping her between him and Blaise.
Blaise is kissing her neck and licking at her earlobe while she kisses Draco. “I have to say, this is quite the homecoming, Hermione.”
End
Masquerade
Story Notes:
9/7/14