"Fuck—"
He groans against Hermione's lips, his hands buried in her riotous hair. He combs his fingers through her tangled curls, tugging at them until she makes a pleased moan. It sends a possessive thrill straight through his gut. Drawing her head back until her throat's bared, he stares into her dark eyes, feeling as though he could devour her whole.
"Missed you." He kisses her again. "God, I missed you."
She laughs. The sound's half-swallowed by Draco's lips. She entwines her arms around his neck, meeting his kiss with a fire that's all her own. He wraps an arm around her waist, crushing her against his chest, and walks her quickly backwards towards the bedroom.
"It was only for two weeks. You said you'd be fine." Her voice is teasing and lilting slightly, the way it does when she's smiling. Draco's face is buried against her neck, nipping his way down the column of her pale throat but he can hear her grin. Her fingers run through his hair, nails scratching across his scalp in a way that sends a shiver straight down his spine. He stumbles and they collide into a wall.
She snorts with laughter. He can feel her chest shaking as he sinks to his knees in front of her and begins rapidly unbuttoning her shirt. The deep red of her bra appears, cut into a plunging v between her tits, and he buries his face against her bare skin.
"I missed you so much," he says again, his hands sliding down to her hips in search of the zipper he knows is somewhere to be found. It's on her left hip and only requires a quick tug before her skirt loosens and slides down to puddle on the floor.
"You're acting like I was gone a year," she says, but she's gripping his shoulders hard enough that her fingernails are biting through his shirt, holding him tighter than he's holding her. Draco kisses her stomach while his hand runs up along her side to pull her bra down under her tits.
"Felt like a year." He glances up at her, his expression aggrieved as he pushes her shirt off. "I don't know how anyone endures celibacy. I nearly died."
She laughs again, her eyes crinkling in the corners. She pulls at him, trying to draw him back up to kiss, but he dips his head forward, curling the tip of his tongue around a pert nipple. Her fingers flutter and go limp as she gives a long helpless moan. Her fingers tangle in his hair and she holds him there, her hips rolling forward against his chest. Draco closes his eyes and swirls his tongue, feeling her nipple harden as he sucks. He pulls back until it slips from his mouth, pink, wet, and shiny.
His mouth waters as he kisses it delicately.
Fuck.
She's practically edible.
"You have the most incredible tits." His voice is husky. He wraps his arms securely around her bare waist and nips and kisses across them, flicking his tongue against her nipples to keep them hardened until she's squirming between him and the wall, and making indecently arousing noises in the back of her throat. Draco's aching for her already.
Two weeks prior, he barely considered a two-week trip notable. They're both adults. Draco was perfectly capable of surviving on his own for a few weeks. It was an important career move, so naturally, he encouraged her to take the opportunity.
Instead, it had felt as though she'd taken Draco's heart and goddamn sun with her. He'd felt as though he were in a sort of hollow state of grief the entire time. The flat was cold and dark and Draco couldn't stop thinking about her, wishing her back, and dreading the thought of her ever leaving again.
Rather than welcoming her home with dinner and coherent conversation, he was ravishing her in the hall of their flat.
It wasn't as though it would be the first time they'd had sex in that particular hallway. It was most certainly not going to be the last time.
The temptation to slither up her body and fuck her right there against the wall is almost overwhelming. His cock is achingly hard and twitching insistently in his trousers.
He groans against her skin.
"Mmmmm. I missed you too," she says, her voice a breathy moan. Her leg has slipped around his back, ankle hooking against his lower spine and holding him there. Her fingers are twisting in his hair, pulling his mouth against her tits exactly where she wants him.
One of his hands slides down between her legs and he presses a fingertip against her knickers. She keens and her hips buck forwards. He runs three fingers along her covered cunt, feeling her warm, soft folds through the thin cotton fabric. He strokes her slowly, sucking lazily on a nipple until the fabric grows damp.
Hermione never does anything by halves, and probably never will. When working, she becomes so consumed by her projects that she seems to dissociate even from the memory having a body. Seducing her can feel nearly impossible at times and occasionally is, but once Draco's captured her attention, she's delightfully insatiable in all the best ways.
He keeps teasing her cunt, his fingers exploring how hot and slick he can make her before he's even gotten her knickers off.
The heady scent of her arousal is filling the air and he's already starving to taste her.
"Ohhhh, Draco." Her legs give out and she nearly slides down the wall. He catches her, and she captures his face in her hands and gives him a searing kiss.
"Bed," she says, panting slightly. "Let's — the bed."
They stumble the rest of the way down the hall, Hermione rapidly undoing the buttons on his shirt and shoving his robes off his shoulders while kissing him hungrily. There's a literal trail of clothing down the hallway by the time they reach their room.
He pushes her back onto the bed and crawls after her. He feels as though he could eat her with his eyes and her expression, as she lies on their bed staring up at him, is equally ravenous. Her curls are spread across the pillows like a halo. His cock twitches and Draco bites his lip as he studies her. Pulling his tie off slowly, he wonders if he should tie her up or blindfold her.
No. Not this time.
As fetching as she is when bound to his bed-frame, he wants her clinging to him. He's dying to see the hungry expression in her eyes, and how dark and wide her eyes grow before she climaxes.
It's been two weeks and he's starved for her.
He slides his fingers lightly along her outer thigh and up to her hip, pulling her down the bed until her pelvis meets his. He slings her leg up onto his shoulder, dipping his head to kiss the inside of her leg, just below her knee.
"You're so perfect," he whispers and kisses a little higher. She shivers, her head tilting back until her throat's bare, and her hips roll. Her cunt rubs against his cock through his trousers.
He hisses and gives a low groan. His fingers hook around her knickers and pull them off.
She's so wet she's glistening. He stares down, running his fingers through her folds until they're drenched with her. She's deliciously warm and silken to touch in a way that makes his blood burn.
"Tease," she hisses when his fingers keep exploring her cunt, tweaking her clit lightly so that she gives a choking mewl.
He runs his hand up along her thigh where it's still resting up in his shoulder as he looks at her.
She's perfect. Her brilliance sparkles from her as undeniably as if she were a polished gemstone. The infinite facets of her mind refract in a way that seems to produce its own light.
There's nothing inferior or lesser about her to be found.
He squeezes her leg, warm against his skin. He can still vividly remember his father's derisive sneer as he gave Draco "permission" to work "the Mudblood obsession" out of his system. Better to deal with it while Draco was young than to let the fascination grow into something consuming.
"Just don't get attached," Lucius had said.
Well, it's been a while now and Draco is quite safely consumed, obsessed, and attached.
Hermione is better than anything his family legacy has ever given him. She's like a supernova, she sets the whole world on fire around her, and being with her makes Draco's world feel bigger than he ever imagined it could be.
The day after she left for her trip, Draco had been forced to endure an unending private dinner with his parents. Surely, his father had said, Draco was ready to move on by now. Draco had obligations as the Malfoy heir that he appeared to have forgotten. Lucius and Narcissa had been patient, but enough was enough. "The Granger girl" was fundamentally unsuitable. Draco and she came from entirely different worlds, with different values and different traditions. Their little romantic fling would never last. It was time Draco remembered who he was.
The last thing his father said as Draco departed, was that it would be advisable for Draco to move on first, in order to maintain a semblance of dignity at least.
Draco stares down at Hermione, his eyes trailing along her body up to her face, trying to memorise her. Maybe his father's right and it's only a matter of time before it's all over.
She's studying him, her eyebrows furrowed into a faint v and her eyes searching.
"Are you alright?" she asks.
He nods, his throat feeling thick. "I just missed you."
The answer makes her smile, her eyes lighting up. It sends a rush of heat across his chest.
"I'm home," she says.
Draco's fingers grip her thigh a little harder and he smirks. "Is this home?"
A coy smile plays at the corner of her mouth, and she bends her leg, hooking her knee over his shoulder in order to pull him down towards her. He leans forward, hands braced on the mattress.
"Home's with you," she says, reaching up and brushing his hair back from his eyes. "Didn't you know?"
The smirk slides off Draco's face as he looks at her. No, he didn't know that.
Because in Draco's world home is an ancient estate. Even if it's empty and cold as a tomb. Even if he can't walk through the manor without thinking about the screams that have bounced off its walls, and the pools of blood that stained the hardwood floors. That is his home. His legacy. A crown with the weight of thousand years to pin him in place.
His heart stutters in his chest, and he wants to say something but he isn't sure exactly what.
Don't leave me. Don't move on. I'm not ever going to move on. If I don't fit into your world, tell me, and I'll change.
But he isn't sure he can promise that, because it never even occurred to him until just then that home could be a person.
Although it explains why the whole world turned so damnably cold when she went away.
He sinks down on her until they're pressed skin to skin, and breathes out unsteadily as he looks at her face.
"I love you," he says. "I hope you know that."
Her eyes are contemplative as she stares up at him, twining her arms around his neck. "I do. I love you too."
He gives a quick nod, forces another smirk, and kisses her, because he'd meant to be ravishing her, not having an emotional breakdown over her two-week business trip.
Her hands slide down his torso and find the buttons of his trousers and drawers, and in a moment her fingers are wrapped tightly around his cock and sliding down the length of it in a way that makes the muscles in his pelvis twinge.
"Show me how much you missed me," she says, her lips a breath away from his and her voice wicked.The ease with which she can leave him undone feels utterly criminal.
Draco's cock throbs in her hand. He kicks the remainder of his clothing off and slides into her with a heavy sigh. She's divinely slick and warm, and tight as a vise around his cock as he sinks to the hilt inside her cunt. Her head drops back with a low sigh and her eyes close. He pushes himself up so that he can watch himself fucking her.
He pulls back and rolls his hips, watching his cock slide slowly into her, feeling her cunt stretch and flutter around him, slick and searingly hot. She bites her lip and gives a long sigh that shivers through him, shifting her hips up to meet his. His fingers trail across her pelvis to her swollen clit and he teases her until her cunt clenches around him and she arches off the mattress, climaxing. He groans as her tight heat continues to flutter around him, tempting him to drive in harder and faster in pursuit of his own orgasm.
Pulling her leg up onto his shoulder, he thrusts deeper. The way she meets his thrusts and moans makes him clench his jaw as he tries not to come. He kisses along her leg again, running his hands along her thighs and up to her chest to pull her bra out of the way so he can watch the way her tits bounce every time their bodies meet.
His ancestors would be rolling in their graves if they knew he was sleeping with a Muggle-born. If they had any idea he was living with her.
Fuck them all.
The bloodline can die for all he cares.
He'll follow her to the ends of the earth in order to keep sharing a life with her.
He wants to hold her tight in his arms every night and to see her face each morning. He wants decades to discover her different world with its different values and traditions. He wants her children, with her sparkling eyes and unmanageable hair and wild magic.
If she'll have him...
...if he can ever find a way to make her say yes.
He's going to marry her.