𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 [𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐞]

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐱𝐭𝐲-𝐨𝐧𝐞

Mature content ahead, please read with caution

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St. Mungo's

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DRACO melted into the way she tasted.

His face slanted over her hers as he opened his mouth to her, taking her lower lip between his teeth and reveling in the groan she let out because of it.

Hermione's thigh hooked around his waist, creating an angle that granted friction whenever he ground down on her. He had a hand enrapturing her bent thigh, stroking and squeezing the silky skin while his other hand bunched the curls in her hair.

"God, I've missed you." He whispered, panting as he looked at her beneath him. "So much. Never, ever leave again. Fuck sake."

Hermione gave a chuckle, "if I recall correctly, it was you who were pushing me away. You have only yourself to blame for the loss of me."

"Why didn't you just slap some sense into me?" He sighed, "it would've been far more efficient and effective."

Hermione laughed again, "I'll take it into consideration."

"Good." Draco mumbled into her mouth as he dipped his head below to meet her once again.

He meant what he told her. He had missed this; having her in his arms, tasting her on his tongue, the scent of her that forced goosebumps to travel up the flesh of his arms. And he was sick and tired of pretending he didn't.

Draco kneeled back onto his knees, breaking from her mouth as his fingers closed around the collar of his shirt before divesting himself of it, over his head, disheveling his blonde hair, the buttons left clasped as he tossed it askew. He couldn't care less about it anymore.

Hermione's palms flew to his torso and chest, flat against the planes of his muscles, learning the way his frame had built. 

She leaned forward, pushing her forehead to the surface of his chest, her breaths fanning out across his skin, the hairs lining the nape of his neck held on their edge. He watched as her eyes fluttered closed, and he brought his hand to the shield of her face, his knuckles brushing against her cheek, gently.

She morphed her lips as she pressed them against his torso. Featherlight, a brush-over. A sweet and loving gesture.

Draco unfurled his fingers, trailing the pads of them along the shape of her face, around where her hair began, across the lining of her jaw to stop underneath her chin.

He only held it there, staring as she withdrew her mouth, arching her neck in a sluggish hurry to level his gaze. Her brown eyes shone with need, that he could see through her long, flitting lashes. He couldn't help the upward yank of his lip as he looked at her. So fucking gorgeous.

Hermione lowered her sights from him, her eyes sealing shut as she pushed her lips against his flesh once more, this time, her mouth opening at her feverish tongue dashed out over his muscles. She closed it as she sucked.

Draco hadn't been expecting this. A gasp wrenching from his chest first, but as his body sank into the feeling, his neck rolling back, a series of guttural grunts fled his lips.

She began to straighten her spine as her lips sought a new area to explore, a little higher than her last suckle, she folded her mouth over his skin again as she copied the motion she did just underneath.

His free hand, that had been dangling at his side, climbed up her neck, splaying out across the crown of her head, tightening around her curls as her breasts brushed against his waist. Searing heat rushing through him as he felt himself ache through his trousers.