requirement | dramione

0.27*

They couldn't carry conversation much longer than that. Not after their hands had already found one another and burnt where their skin touched. Hermione's kiss was enough to drive away every doubtful feeling. Every scared thought. Every notion of worry and anger and uncertainty. 

She was a cure to all of his ailments.

He kissed her harder, hands grabbing at clothes against her hips and pulling her closer to him. Hermione's hands, one on his cheek, one against his chest, conducting a fire inside of him. 

He kissed her harder, begging for some kind of restraint. He kissed her with every bit of strength he could muster, pressing his hungry lips on to hers with fever. His large hand moved to the back of her head, holding her against his lips as he tangled his fingers into her brown hair.

Draco's spine pressed into the back of the wooden chair as Hermione pushed herself against his chest. Her hands were against his face, then his neck, and the the back of his head. She was just as desperate as he.He pressed his hands into her lower back, pushing her body against his. She hummed gladly into his mouth. 

Fuck.

He wanted her, right now– needed something to release the tension, the anxiety, to forget the conversation they hadn't finished– the madness that raged outside the door.

His fingertips, colds and long, slid under her shirt. He explored the soft warmth of the skin on her back, gently pressing his fingers into her spine. His thumbs rolled over her ribs, mapping her frame. 

Hermione sucked in a sharp breath when his cold fingertips slipped beneath her bra, grazing against her nipples before squeezing and kneading. She straightened herself, leaning back to give his hands more room to work, aligning their centers so that she was perfectly- perfectly- against him.

He swallowed the desire that was boiling inside of him; his body begging his mind to strip her naked right then. With his hands on her breasts, he studied her fragile face. Her lips were pink and plump from his aggressive kisses. Her cheeks were flushed as if they were covered in red blush and, behind her thick eyelashes, brown eyes were like decadent chocolates.

He pulled against her hard nipple, drawing the bundle between his pointer finger and thumb. Those brown eyes closed as she arched her body into his. A shuttering breath escaped her, but she bit her lip the next second as if she had intended to keep that breath to herself.

Draco smiled, a devilish grin that he knew caught her attention no matter what they were doing. His fingers abandoned her chest, moving the the zipper of her gray sweater. In the next moment, the blonde haired boy had removed each of Hermione's tops, leaving her chest bare and exposed to him.

Her breathing was flustered under his gaze. He knew he was greedy as he explored her. Her body was art and, though he didn't say it, he knew that he could stare at her for hours and still crave more.

Hermione, who had been watching his adoring eyes, placed her hands against his shoulders. She pulled herself closer to him, lowering her body so that her bare breasts were against his chest and her lips were on his.

It was her turn to kiss him now, gently at first. Her kiss was light, wet with their breath, but delicious. As if it were the most natural movement in the world, Hermione's hips began to move to the speed of their kiss.

Hermione felt Draco's lips part as he groaned. She took this as an invitation to push her hips harder against his, circling her body against his. Her lips found his jaw, kissing along the definition of the bone. It felt like the most natural action in the world: grinding her body against his as she gingerly kissed the soft skin beneath his ear, with his hands against her chest and waist.