Start 11-26-11 at 312pm
Disclaimer: I own neither Draco nor Hermione! They were created from the brilliant mind of JK Rowling(:
- So I've been trying to ignore this idea ever since Thanksgiving, but it keeps haunting me, stopping me from writing the next chapter to my other stories! This idea came to me while I was walking upstairs to take a shower, while singing the song, Tongue Ring by Chris Trousdale (if you don't know, he used to be in the boy band, Dreamstreet with Jesse McCartney) although this one shot isn't a song fic, I did manage to find a place for pieces of the song in here(:
And also if you've read any of my other one-shots, then you know what to expect(; so be warned. This will get a little… steamy!
Rubbing the back of her neck with a roll of her head, Hermione looked up from the pile of books she had been studying, and glanced at the muggle clock sitting a couple of feet away from her. How she had finally talked Malfoy into agreeing to placing the muggle item in their shared common room, she had no idea. When she first brought it out, he threw one of the largest baby-like tantrums she had ever witnessed. Something about her filthy Mudblood items dirtying up his living space. It took two weeks, and three days before he finally allowed her to keep it out. She suspected it had something to do with a certain Italian friend of his who was dating a certain tempered ginger friend of hers. Ginny knew how much Hermione needed a clock in every room that she would spend all of her time in, and Blaise knew how much Ginny liked to have everything her way. And Malfoy knew how much Blaise was scared of his frightening little witch.
Standing up, Hermione yawned. She started studying for the Potions test that Snape had threatened them with at the last at minute, right after she returned from dinner. That was at seven. It was now two in the morning, and she had been studying for seven hours straight, and she had potions class right after breakfast. Glancing down at her books once more, she decided to just leave it all scattered around. Normally, the very uptight and prissy head boy would blow his fuse if she left even a simple quill out of place, but he wasn't returning for the rest of the night – something about attending the victory party with the rest of Slytherin to celebrate beating Ravenclaw in the second Quidditch match of the year. Lifting her arms to stretch her back, Hermione's nose crinkled up, and she quickly became embarrassed. No lady should ever smell that horrible.
Walking towards the bathroom that she shared with Malfoy, she tried to think back to the last time she put on her deodorant. Growing up, Hermione was always pressured into having the perfect hygiene because of her dentist parents. Her mum had been so strict about hygiene that Hermione started using deodorant when she was only eight years old, and had started taking up ballet. In the rush of rushing through her classes, cheering against her house-mate, and running back from dinner to start studying, Hermione had forgotten to take a shower, and she put deodorant on only once… in the morning… nearly twenty four hours ago. Yawning once more, she decided she needed a quick shower before she would stink up her bed. Reveling in the idea that she had the large dormitory to herself, Hermione quickly unbuttoned her white oxford shirt, tossing it onto the staircase leading up to the bathroom.
This was something she had always done from as far back as she could remember. Some nights her parents would leave her home alone – starting from when she was only eight years old – while trusting their neighbor to occasionally barge into the house, and check on Hermione. But of course, everyone knew Hermione Granger was the girl who would never break any rules, so checking on Hermione only once, the neighbor would leave the future little witch on her own for the rest of the night. Hermione would strip down while walking towards the bathroom. She preferred it that way, so once she would reach the shower, all she had to do was jump right in. The charcoal grey uniformed skirt was the next to go.
"Bloody bossy, Weaslette!" Draco hissed to himself, storming into the now emptied common room. "Bloody horny, Blaise!" Blaise; his supposedly best mate had promised him that tonight would be just about them, and Slytherin. Ever since Potter won the war, and it got leaked that Potter dating the Weaslette was just a cover up because he was dating the Weasel instead, and the Weaslette was dating a Zabini, Slytherin and Gryffindor seemed to get along now. Draco and Blaise hardly saw each other because Blaise was always snogging his girlfriend, and Draco was stuck with the know-it-all, Granger. It wouldn't have been so bad if Granger was anything like her fiery ginger haired friend, but instead she was stuck up prissy bitch!
Things were going great in the Slytherin common room: laughter as they all reminisced about when they used to pick on Gryffindor, shared bottles of firewhiskey being passed around, and not one thought of Granger, Potter or anybody with red hair… until the brick wall concealing them swung open, and Blaise's eyes lit up. Pansy squealed with excitement while running over to her boyfriend; the Irish git, and Theodore quickly swooped up his loony girlfriend. When McGonagall pushed himself, and Granger into being the heads of houses, and into a shared dormitory, the rest of Hogwarts seemed to start mixing in as well. No one expected Pansy Parkinson to become engaged to the half-blood, Seamus Finnigan, and no one would have ever suspected that Theodore Nott had a soft spot for the dazed out Luna Lovegood. Even the professors had to drop their jaws when they entered the Great Hall one morning, and saw Crabbe and Goyle with their arms around the Patil twins. Then again, nobody knew that Blaise Zabini and Ginny Weasley had been fooling around since the time of the Yule Ball.
Glowering at the scattered books around the coffee table in the common room, Draco chose to ignore it. He was already pissed off with Blaise. Once the Weaslette giggled something into his ears, Blaise was apologizing and explaining that Draco couldn't sleep in his room anymore; like they've been planning for the past two weeks already. Deciding that the common room already looked like a hurricane destroyed it, he tossed his own school bag to the floor on the side of the couch. He tried his hardest not to notice how perfect his own emerald green school bag looked so perfect next to Granger's scarlet colored bag. He did however, notice that his body didn't shudder when his bag slouched over, and leaned on top of Granger's school bag. He rather liked it actually.
"What the bloody hell?" walking up the stairs that led to the loo, seeing as how he smelt like firewhiskey and needed a quick shower before going to sleep, Draco saw the crumpled shirt laying on a step. Three steps up, and he saw the skirt laid out. Nothing registered in his mind though. Not until he saw the emerald green bra tossed across three of the steps. He stopped walking now. No way. Bending over, he picked the bra up in his hands. "Where the hell had she been hiding those all these years?" he asked in low whisper, amazed when he saw it was a 36D. But it wasn't really the size of the bra that caused him to pick it up – it was the silver stars decorating the emerald green cups that had caught his eyes. Emerald and silver! His colors! The colors of Slytherin! The princess of Gryffindor was wearing Slytherin colors right beneath the layers of her bulky uniform. His mind was blank. Then he spotted it. It! The big it! It! Dropping the bra as if it offended him in some way, he ran up the seven stairs that had been separating them. Picking the tiny fabric into his hands, he noticed the familiarity of the sweet-muskiness they presented. No fucking way! Hermione Granger wore thongs. And not just any thong. No, this wasn't some red lacy thong, or a pink frilly thong. This thong was identical to her bra. This thong got him hardened at such a though. Gryffindor Princess Hermione Granger preferred her knickers in his house colors.
Five foot three, she put the O in low cut jeans,
'Bad Girl' written on her baby tee.
But she sure look good to me.
You know, not the ordinary,
She got me whipped like cream without the cherry.
And for a playa like me that's kinda scary.
Cause I don't fall easily!
Keeping his grip on the fabric in his hands, Draco froze. Only now he noticed that the thong had been discarded right in front of the doorway of the loo. Slowly lifting his head, his jaw dropped. Steam rose from above the shower, while the lights remained off. The soothing vanilla scent flooded his nose as the seven lit candles allowed him a peek into the curtain. Granger had this thing about hanging up muggle shower curtains, and right now he was silently praising his thanks to whatever muggle god had thought up of such a thing. While a midnight blue rug laid right aside the shower, waiting for its soaking wet person to step onto it, the shower stall was hidden behind a dark blue curtain, plaited with blocks of forest green and silver. Draco chuckled at the irony of it all. Never before did he notice Granger's obsession for his house colors. Now that he did notice it though, he felt a pull in his chest. It seemed to be stronger than the pull in his trousers.
Shorty got a tongue ring,
And you know that can only mean one thing:
She the bad type of girl
That you dream about.
But don't you dare bring her home
To your momma's house,
Cause you know
Shorty got a tattoo,
A little devil on her hip smiling at you.
And though I like what I see
So why it so wrong for me to believe
That shorty could be right for me?
The thickness of the candles' light, and the darkness from the shower curtain prevented him from being seen, but the candles glow allowed him to be able to see Granger's silhouette. Her voice reached his ears, making him want to learn who sang this obvious muggle sang, and thank them personally for creating such a wonderful thing. Behind the shower's curtain, Granger had her back towards him, allowing him to get a perfect glimpse of her arse rising then falling as she danced seductively to the song she was now singing. His eyes refused to remove themselves from this perfect sight in front of him, while his hands continued to hold tightly onto the thin fabric.
I bit my lip,
Cause baby girl, she flipped the script;
Took a pen,
And wrote her digits on my wrist.
Said to 'call me up and don't forget'
I'm not gonna shower.
'til I call her up, and let her know the hour
To come and meet me on Sunset Boulevard.
Cause I'm digging what I'm seeing so far.
Just like that, Draco Malfoy continued to stand there watching as Hermione Granger sang and danced around the shower. Feeling like some sort of creeping pervert, he just couldn't move away. His body liked what it was witnessing, and both of his heads told his feet to stay in place. He didn't even care if he got caught anymore. It wasn't until Granger turned around to face him that his heart got caught in his throat. He wondered for a quick second if she could spot him as her toffee brown eyes seemed to meet his icy grey, but she continued to just bop her head, singing away. Draco didn't know where Sunset Boulevard was, but he wanted to be there. Now! He's never seen Granger with flat hair before, and it was truly a breath taking sight as the water continued to fall onto her body, her arms were raised, and her hair fell to her thighs. Who knew that tight curls could make such a difference from straight hair?
Speaking of tight. Draco reached his hands down to unbutton his pants. They were beginning to suffocate him at this point. His eyes landed on her chest. With his mind wandering back to the bra, he held in his groan. He could see it now – the padding from the bra didn't over-exaggerate on anything about her. Firm, perfectly rounded breasts were staring right at him. He thought back to his breakfast, and his lips curled into a grin. Marcus Flint once compared a girl's breasts to eggs, and Draco called him a virgin, but now he could see it. He would definitely have to apologize to his old mentor once he had the chance. Rising with each breath Granger took, and falling with each inhale, those perfect breasts stared right back at him. Nipples the color of caramel seemed to point right at him, just begging to be bitten.
Shaking out the thought of what he wanted to do to those perfectly sized breasts, and those wonderfully tantalizing looking nipples, Draco's eyes wandered further down. At this point already, his breathing was ragged. He could no longer fight back the temptations that his body was forcing on him. Continuing to hold the Slytherin colored fabric in his right hand, he moved it down towards his throbbing member. His eyes landed on the triangle between Granger's legs. He missed a verse of the song, but his ears caught the next lines, and with the fabric still in his hand, he tugged on himself. The wetness of his dripping pre-cum soaked through the thong.
Shorty got a tattoo,
A little devil on her hip smiling at you.
Never in his life, fantasy, imagination, or anything else, would Draco have ever thought this possible. Replacing where the chestnut curls between her legs should start – that fine line between womanhood, and flattened tummy – there were no curls. Instead, she had a tattoo. Not a devil. Not a pony. Not a unicorn, butterfly, star, heart, or whatever else girls like to get tattooed. It wasn't even a lion or a crown. No witch's pentagon or an ex-lover's name. Staring intensely back at the now panting Draco was a snake; a silver lined snake with golden markings. It was too dark and too far to establish what the markings were, but he knew they were golden colored. Gold stands out on ivory skin no matter how dark a room is. The eyes were piercing into his, seeing past his soul: one the color of an emerald, and one the color of a ruby.
Feeling the tension beginning to build up in his lower abdomen, Draco didn't see the curtain open until her voice called out his name, "Malfoy?"
He stopped – frozen with fear – heart pumping with adrenaline – eyes wide, resembling a deer caught in headlights. Granger was staring at his hand. His eyes lowered, and he felt the blush take over his body. Still in his hand, he held onto her thong, wrapping it around himself, and wanking with it. "Granger! I-I can-"
The water turned off, and Granger stepped out from the shower. Not bothering to wrap herself in a towel, she walked over to him. She smirked at his sudden step back; the reasoning was obvious, but she was more concerned about what his hand was doing. Draco was gawking. Soaking wet, dripping from the shower, and smelling of fresh lavender, Granger dropped to her knees with a smirk on her face. Keeping her eyes on him, she pulled Draco's hand away. He was trying to protect his bits in case she turned psycho on him, and tried to hex them off, but there was something in her eyes. Lust. "You got my knickers sticky," Draco almost came right there. Her voice was thick with desire, taunting him with a seduction he didn't know she possessed.
He was cut off by his own grunt. An erotic sound took over the area, and sex overpowered the vanilla scent. Reaching his hands down, he caught her hair in his hands, still dripping from the shower; he could see the damp strands were already starting to slowly curl back to its normal state. Tiny black dust spots were flying above Granger's head though. He wanted to do the manly thing, and swat them away from her, but if he let go of her hair, he would fall off the earth. She was the only thing keeping him grounded right now. Which was ironic, seeing as how she was the one pushing him off the edge. He had meant to threaten her; to warn her that if she told anyone what she saw, he would resort back to his old Death Eater ways. But she cut him off by dropping to her knees. Releasing a sound that sounded close to her name, Draco shut his eyes. The softness of her tongue wrapped around his length, teasing him. Teeth grazed his skin as her hands played with the tightened balls.
Hermione looked up, and smirked again. She didn't expect him to return tonight, and even if he did, she never would have expected to find him wanking with her knickers while watching her take a shower. It wasn't as if she was doing anything naughty in the shower. She simply just scrubbed her body, while singing and dancing of course, but she thought she was alone. When she pulled back the curtain, she saw his eyes on her tattoo, and it made her nervous. She got that tattoo when she was only sixteen years old. Her cousin went to go get one, and he called her a chicken when she shook her head at him, so she got the tattoo just to prove him wrong, and she knew that the hunt for Horcruxes were only two months away, and she would soon leave her family behind. She got it in that spot because she never expected Malfoy would ever see it, and she got that one in particular because sixth year was when she had a minor crush on him. She knew he was a Death Eater, and she knew he attempted to murder Dumbledore, but it didn't matter. She had a crush on him. It was that same burning crush that brought her to her knees right now.
While her hands remained on his balls, she continued to softly massage them. She was quick to see how when she moved her mouth slowly, his knees would tremble, and he would whimper. It was a funny sight – Draco Malfoy weak in the knees, and reduced to cowardly whimpers because of the nerdy Mudblood. If only he knew how many nights, she's dreamt of doing this just for him. And being forced to live right across the hall from him didn't help to make anything better, if anything it only intensified her yearning desire for him: to touch him, to be touched by him; to please him, to be pleased by him. He looked on the verge of tears, holding tightly onto her hair, and squeezing his eyes tightly shut. His head leaned back, and he began to unconsciously thrust his hips against her face. Moving her hands from his balls, she dug her nails into his hips – the width of him alone already filled her mouth; she didn't need him choking her as well.
"Oh… god… Granger!" three simple little words took thirty seconds to speak. They came out in huffs, thickened with the need for release. Hermione chuckled with him still in her mouth. The vibrations from her chuckle against his already pulsating cock caused Draco to shout out his moan. He felt like silk in her mouth. Ginny and Lavender often told her stories of how guys feel like silk in your mouth, but from what she's ever had, she always thought that sand could describe it more. But Malfoy… now he was perfect. Ivory silk in her mouth, trimmed precisely to the point that the only hair on his body was the perfect patch of pale blonde strings right above the base of his cock. He tasted of sweat; a salty type of sweat that reminded her that this was reality. This was real. She was sucking off the Slytherin sex god. And she had him trembling in his knees. "Granger!" his voice was high pitched. His hips fought against her finger's restraints, and his feet were lifting off the ground. His hands tugged harder onto her head, trying to remove her, yet push her deeper onto him at the same time. "Granger… I'm… agh… move… oh… get… oh fuck… coming…" his warnings were thrown in with the cries of his pleasure.
She heard him. She smirked again. This would teach him to call her a prissy prude any more. Keeping her grip on his thighs, Hermione lowered her head deeper onto him. There were more sounds from above her, but she began to get dizzy from her own need for release. Her dampness was now soaking wet as she felt her own craving for release dripping down between her legs. Her body was already air dried, wet only from where her hair dropped a few water bubbles onto her, but she was soaking in a different sense now. She needed to be touched soon. It wasn't until she felt him thrusting deep into her throat that she remembered seeing his length. It was a wonder she wasn't dead yet. With one more final grunt from the panting boy above her, Hermione felt the thick heat flood into her system. He tasted like fruits, and Hermione was suddenly grateful for Malfoy's healthy diet.
Draco couldn't believe it, Granger took him deeply. His mind was still in a haze as she continued to suck him until there was nothing left for her to swallow. She didn't spill a single drop. She's done this before. There was no denying it. She was too much of a professional to be such a novice or to have learned that from reading. That kind of skill takes practice. "Room…" he growled, yanking her off her knees, and against his chest. "Now!"
Not needing anymore direction, Hermione took his hand into hers. Although their rooms were literally right across from each other's, they both silently agreed that her open door was the closest to them. Draco took only a second to take in the emerald green color of her bed sheets before he threw her onto it. Hermione wasted no time in getting what she wanted. Taking the thong, that he was still holding tightly onto, from him, Hermione threw it on the side of the bed. Her hands stumbled at his buttons until she gave up. Draco was taken aback by the strength the tiny girl possessed, with one hard tug from her dainty hands all of his buttons broke off, flying around them, and soon his shirt was off. Shrugging out of his pants and boxers, Draco was thankful that his father forced him into Quidditch, when he saw that Granger seemed to be astonished with his muscular physique.
Grinning up at the now equally nude boy above her, Hermione ran both her hands through his hair. Eight years of knowing him, and only now she got to touch it. It felt like silk in her hands, forcing a giggle from her lips. How funny that his penis should feel like silk, and his hair as well. She's always admired his hair, and she noticed how his eyes began to flutter as she gently pulled on it. Ah – now she knew… his weakness was his hair. That would come in handy later, she thought to herself. Feeling the wriggling of her heated flesh beneath him, Draco snapped his eyes back open. Hermione whimpered at the sight of him as he flew his head back. Pale blonde hair fell into his eyes, shaking around him, landing right above his shoulders. Lifting her mouth up, she started to slowly work her tongue over the tiny little brown beauty mark on his chest. It seemed so lonely, sitting there by itself over his left nipple.
Draco purred as her tongue began to caress his chest. Pushing her away with a force that was meant to say he would be the one in control, Draco brought his lips to her neck. She remained motionless beneath him, only releasing tiny moans until his tongue and lips found that one spot. He felt her try to arch her body up, and it was his turn to smirk now. He didn't know when he realized he wanted the Mudblood, whether it was when they were fourteen, and he saw her coming down at the steps at the Yule Ball or whether it was the moment McGonagall forced them to live together. The lines between lust and love were blurred now. Black was white, and white was scarlet. There was no grey. There was simply just a blur. He couldn't remember if he first noticed she was attractive when he saw her kill Greyback during the war, or if it was just recently while watching her shower. It didn't matter when he decided it, as long as it has been decided. He wanted her, and no one else would claim her. Biting, sucking, and licking at that spot right beneath her pulsating throat until she was screaming beneath him, Draco pulled away. She was his now. He made sure of it. No shirt would be able to conceal that, no makeup, and no magic could hide that. Everyone would know she belonged to him now. He made sure of it.
"Oh…" Hermione hissed out in shock when he suddenly bit on her right nipple. There was no tenderness to it, as his teeth tugged at it. Like he did with her throat, it felt as if he were staking his claim; like he wanted to remind her that she belonged to only him, and no one else. While he continued to savagely take control of her right nipple, her arms wrapped around his head. One free hand was kneading into her left breast while his right hand moved to where her heat was emanating from.
"So… wet," Draco growled against her nipple. Moving his teeth to the top of her breast, he wanted to continue to claim her. No one else could have her. He would darken it, and make it as large as possible. She was his now. "So fucking… wet," he wanted to prepare her for what he wanted to do, which was take her for a ride she would never recover from, but he felt that he didn't have to do anything. His hand slipped against her soaking folds as if she were a swimming pool. He moved his hands past her, and felt all along her inner thighs. She was soaked even at her knees. He growled again.
Bucking her hips as she felt his fingers pinch at her clit, Hermione released a squeal. "Stop… teasing…" her voice was hoarse, her breath in pants. "Either… do something… or… or… oh god…" he was brushing his thumb nail against the beaded nub now, while his teeth continued to claim her, "… or… leave…"
"Leave?" Draco chuckled, trailing his tongue all along her flattened tummy right now. "With you in this state of arousal? Do tell, Granger… what are you planning to do if I were to leave you right now?"
"Wand…" she hissed. Her eyes were shutting, then opening then falling back into a closed position as his teeth began to nibble on the spot her tattoo is. "Tra-Transfiguration…" her hands were pulling at the bed sheets, crumpling up against them. His finger was still teasing her clit while his teeth were tugging on her tattoo, "T-take care… myself… oh god…"
He was already hard. Although she managed to make him come like he had never come before, Draco never got soft yet. Her words and the images of her wanking herself if he were to leave her right now, caused him to groan in pain. He needed another release. But not until he got what he wanted. "As hot as that is Granger," he left a trail of butterfly kisses until he reached her clit. Chuckling as Hermione lifted her head to scowl at him, once he pulled away from her, Draco grinned. No smirking, no glowering, no painful smile. This grin was filled with only one emotion – Lust! "I want to taste you."
Hermione's toes began to curl. Draco whimpered again as she tugged painfully on his hair. Her legs were wrapping around his head, and she wanted more of him. His tongue was lapping all along her slit, circling her clit, and then prodding deep into her. She squealed. She whimpered. She bucked, and she moaned. She could see heaven, the stars, and the moon. And she never wanted it to end. Draco was purring against her soaked lips. She tasted of the lavender soap she just used, mixed in with her own scent of arousal. She tasted of salt, and she tasted of Hermione. His nose was damp with her wetness, his lips causing a slurping sound as he ate her as if she were his last meal. Hermione's nails were beginning to dig into his scalp, and his head was throbbing with the way she pulled at his hair. It only made him that much harder. With her legs wrapped tightly around his head, Draco pushed his tongue deeper into her, then pulling it out, then thrusting it back in. He wanted to fuck her with his dick until she couldn't walk anymore, but for now he would make love to her with his tongue until she was writhing beneath him. Something he's already succeeded.
"Oh god, Malfoy!" his teeth were gently tugging at her clit. His teeth were nibbling on her lower lips. His hands were bruising her thighs, and she was about to melt. Unable to thrust her hips up at him because of his restraining hold on her, Hermione could only rotate her hips in a circular motion, crying out above him, shouting out that she was about to come.
Pulling away from her for only a quick second, Draco grinned again, "Cum into my mouth, Granger. I want to taste all of you," that seemed to do the trick. His words with one last slow lick of her slit, and Hermione was screaming while her juices flowed onto his face. Lapping up as much of it as he could, Draco became intoxicated by her taste: strawberries with sweat and salt. A taste he wanted again. If he didn't need a release so badly, he would make her come just by his tongue again. He lapped up every drop of her. She was still soaking wet though. It seemed she was just as aroused as he was.
She was panting. She's had sex before. She's had orgasms before, and even multiple orgasms, but she was panting. She wanted nothing more than to lie down to sleep right now. No… scratch that, she wanted him inside of her, and then she wanted nothing more than sleep. Never before had anyone tired her out with just such a simple task. But then again, there was nothing simple about that. He should really insure his tongue – that thing is like gold. Still holding onto his hair, Hermione pulled his mouth to hers. She felt him collapse against her body as she allowed her tongue to roam his mouth. She could taste herself on him, and the way he kissed her was as if he wanted the taste back. Tongue lashed against tongue. Hair was being pulled in both directions, and whimpers were sounded from each of them. Draco had never met a girl who seemed so eager to taste herself before, and he didn't know how to react to it. So he did the only thing possible, he tried to claim her mouth as his own. The kiss was raw, filled with a passion that neither of them noticed. A lingering desire that they both kept bottled up for years, coming to the surface now.
"Please…" she moaned into his mouth. "Please Draco!"
She called him Draco. He would murder his own mother for her at this point, if she asked him to. She had no idea what she just did to him. It was impossible. Draco Malfoy fell in love. "Please what, Hermione?"
Gyrating her hips against his leg, Hermione tried so hard to find that release she so desperately needed, "I need you… I need you…"
That was all he needed. Using his hand to guide himself into her, Draco felt his cheeks burning with blush when she groaned out in disappointment at the way he fell out of her. He wasn't even in for a second when he just fell right out. Pressing his lips to hers in an apologetic way, he pressed deeply into her. As she shouted into his mouth, Draco held his position. He feared that if he were to pull out or make any quick movements, he would release inside of her already. Hermione seemed to have other thoughts though. Holding onto his shoulders, she moved her own hips, emanating a painful sound from his lips. She realized he was trying to hold himself in place.
Draco was shocked. With a strong force that he's witnessed for the second time tonight, she rolled him over onto his back. Leaning forward only a couple of inches so that her hands rested on his chest, she began to swivel her hips. Draco found himself clutching at the sheets. They were both panting, both trying to get a grip on something. Hearing his name being whispered from the girl above him, Draco felt himself whispering her name as well. All night had been filled with shouts, but this seemed so much more intimate now. They stared into each other's eyes, and Hermione quickened her pace. She could feel him holding himself together, and he could feel her walls clenching all around him. Moving his hand to her, he flicked her clit. Once. Twice. Three times. Slowing her pace down to a snail speed, Hermione released her liquids, allowing them to drip onto him. Draco shot all of his seed up into her.
"What time is it?" Hermione finally managed to speak after what seemed like hours.
Continuing to hold the out of breath and sweating girl to his chest, Draco turned his head to glance at the muggle clock on her nightstand. It was identical to the one Blaise forced him to accept downstairs. "Four thirty."
"We only have an hour and a half to sleep," Hermione groaned, staring up at him. "We have that potions test at seven."
Chuckling, Draco raised an eyebrow. "You feel like you'll be able to walk to class in the morning?"
Nodding her head, she raised her own eyebrow at the glint in his eyes. "Why?"
Rolling them over so that he laid atop her once more, Draco hovered his lips right above hers, "I promised myself I wouldn't stop until you couldn't walk for weeks."
Allowing his tongue to roam his girlfriend's mouth, Blaise Zabini looked over at the entrance to the Great Hall. "Looks like our plan worked after all, love," he chuckled, pulling away from her.
"What?" turning around to see what everyone was now staring at, Ginny started grinning. "I knew it would work. Hermione always strips naked while walking to the shower when she knows she's going to be alone."
"But how did you know that Draco would willingly follow the clothing trail to the bathroom?"
Smirking, Ginny's eyes landed on the familiar looking fabric hanging from Draco's robe's pocket, "I had a feeling those green and silver lingerie would come in handy."
Chuckling, Blaise pulled his girlfriend in closer against him, "You my witch, are very dangerous."
Keeping her eyes on the new couple, Ginny suddenly looked worried, "Why is she limping?"
It was Blaise's turn to smirk now. "Draco's wanted her for a while now. He had this fantasy of disabling her from walking for two weeks," but then he noticed something odd. "Why is Draco limping?"
"Like Hermione's going to allow anyone to keep her from a test," came the chuckling voices of Harry and Ron from behind them. "Malfoy should've known better than to tell her of his fantasy."
"Wait – what?" Ginny's eyes were wide as she turned on the two. "How do you know he told her what he wanted to do?"
Blaise's eyes landed on the shimmering fabric poking out from Harry's robe, "Oi! What is that?"
"Harry? You didn't?" when Harry said nothing, Ginny turned to Ron. "Oh Ron! You guys did?" turning to her boyfriend, she sighed at his confusion, "They were watching!"
Grinning wickedly, Harry stared across the hall at Draco, watching as he and Hermione both tried to cover up their slightly limping movements. "I knew my invisibility cloak would come in handy for more than just saving the world."
Please review! I kind of just rushed through the ending part because my entire family chose that moment to burst into my room wanting to catch up. Of all freaking times to want to catch up! Ugh! But I still think it's my hottest story yet. Please review! (:
Pau 11-26-11 at 613pm