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Hermione was about two seconds away from banging her head repeatedly on the desk in front of her. It was officially one of the most tiresome days she’d ever had to endure.
For starters, she’d found out that morning that she’d run out of tea bags, so she couldn’t have her initial, or indeed her final, life-saving cup before going to work. Arriving at work, she found out she was twenty minutes late for a departmental meeting, and ran to the board room only to endure five minutes of strong reprimanding by the head of the department and another half-hour of Draco Malfoy’s stupid, smirking, I’m-so-much-better-than-you face. When she was finally able to retreat back to her office she was greeted by a small flock of memos that had to be addressed before she could start her regular work for the day. The memos took at least an hour, and she’d managed to cram three hours’ worth of work into the following hour and a half before realizing that there was at least another ten hours’ worth of work to go, all needing to be done by tomorrow. She was definitely going to be taking work home that evening.
So she felt perfectly justified in banging her head on the desk, at least three times. She was, however, able to restrain by reminding herself that her lunch-hour was eminent. You can do this, she thought to herself. Just get this last report done, and you can escape to the café.
She heard the footsteps of expensive shoes striding down the narrow hallway her office branched from. The sound of those shoes was unmistakable, but she hoped to Merlin that it wasn’t who she knew it was. The last thing she needed today was—
“Granger, this office is a fucking pigsty. Why the hell don’t you ever spare it a Scougify?”
Fantastic. Just fantastic. Hermione spared a glance to the Heavens, swearing to herself that when she got up there she was going to demand an explanation as to why they treated her so cruelly in this life, as she genuinely did not believe she deserved it.
Draco Malfoy had been working in her department for the past year and a half. When Hermione had asked the head of the department why Malfoy was moving in, he assured her that Draco was coming under the strong recommendation of an old colleague. Hermione had no idea who this person was, but she could guarantee that he or she wasn’t getting an invitation to her next birthday party.
He really was the bane of her existence. This job was demanding, yes, but, before she’d had to endure his presence every day, she’d loved it. From the day Draco first set foot on her turf, he had seemed to assign himself the task of annoying Hermione as much as possible. He would visit her at ridiculous hours, volunteer her for jobs that she didn’t have the time to do but couldn’t refuse, interrupt her lunch time with idle chatter and insults, and in the all-too-often circumstance where they were working together, he would claim credit for parts of the job that had been entirely her doing. He was rude, arrogant, deceiving and ever-present. Working with him was so difficult it bordered on impossible.
By far the worst part of all of this was that, despite that fact that, on the inside, he was the least desirable person on Earth, Hermione was obscenely attracted to him. His silky-smooth blonde hair, slate grey eyes and pale skin were a perfect combination, and Hermione had spent many-a-sleepless-night in bed imagining running her hands through that hair and touching that skin. His dress sense was immaculate as well; he always sported the most expensive, clean and wrinkle-free apparel; and Hermione wagered that, underneath those silk shirts and tailor-cut trousers, there was a body to die for. Hermione hated herself for it, but she often dreamt of locking the door to her office and making love to him right there.
She doubted he’d be so into the idea, however.
“My office,” she replied curtly, “is tidy enough.” She wasn’t a messy person, but when one has to fit so much filing into such a tiny space, a small amount of mess was inevitable. At any rate, there were folders and files and quills scattered about in a way that Hermione was not pleased with, but unable to rectify due to the aforementioned lack of space.
“Please, Granger. You can barely move in this place for fear of tripping on some miscellaneous object.” Draco slid gracefully into her spare chair and rested his feet on her desk.
“My desk isn’t a footstool,” Hermione reprimanded him.
“It is now.”
Hermione sighed. Perhaps if she stopped fighting him he would get bored and go away.
“Was there anything in particular that you wanted, Malfoy? I’m kind of busy.”
“Busy? A likely story.” He plucked Hermione’s unfinished report from her desk and started to read it.
“I didn’t know you were so interested in administration,” Hermione remarked, raising her eyebrows at him while trying not to think too much about how Draco’s hair was falling into his eyes in a most alluring fashion today.
“There is a lot you don’t know about me.”
“I know, but you’ve honestly stumped me here. If your interest is so piqued, you should consider actually doing some of your own admin once in a while.” Hermione swiped the report away from him and, in an effort to make it look more like she shouldn’t be disturbed, started to write in gibberish on it.
“You are right, Granger. I don’t give a fuck about it. It is refreshing to have assistants taking care of that side of things for me.”
“Yes, well, some of us aren’t so lucky. So if you don’t mind…” Hermione used her free hand to indicate her door.
“You expect me to believe that you’re writing something of substance right now?” Draco asked her. He slid the report away from her again, this time causing a large line of ink to drag along the parchment. Hermione was definitely going to have to rewrite that report now.
“Malfoy; seriously. I'm having a really shithouse day here, and you’re not helping. If you don’t leave in the next ten seconds, I’ll hex you out.”
“Ooh, the princess curses. I’m quivering with fear now.” Draco’s silver eyes dropped to her latest additions, and, to Hermione’s surprise, the trademark smirk crept onto his face.
“Well, well. What do we have here?”
“Excuse me?” Hermione couldn’t recall what she had written. It was gibberish, after all.
“Allow me to orate,” Draco answered. “’Malfoy is in my office, his feet on my desk, being his usual self: irritating, obnoxious, sexy’.” Malfoy looked up. “You think I’m sexy, Granger?”
“I…what…I—!” Hermione spluttered. “I think no such thing!”
“Then why did you absent-mindedly write it down?” Draco challenged her. “But don’t interrupt me; this gets better: ‘Would he be quiet if I kissed him? Maybe he’d stop talking while taking his clothes off. He’d be less irritating if he was taking me from behind’.”
Draco dropped the report on the desk. “That’s very interesting.”
Hermione blushed to the roots of her hair. As intensely serious as the situation had suddenly become, she could only think of only one relatively childish word; a word that never-the-less summed everything up perfectly: busted.
“I’ve got to say Granger,” Draco said, after a long pause. “I wouldn’t have picked you as the type that got turned on by being taken from behind.”
“That’s not… huh?” That hadn’t been what she’d expected him to say. She was fairly positive that her finding him attractive would have been more worthy of mention than her preferred positions.
Draco, it seemed, knew what she was thinking. He took his feet off the desk and stood, stretching in a way that Hermione was sure he was deliberately doing to showcase his body in its best light.
“You thought I didn’t know?” he asked. “I’ve known about this for quite some time.”
To Hermione’s alarm, he took a step towards her. She leapt out of her chair as though it had suddenly caught fire and backed into the nearest wall.
“Are you scared of me?” Draco took another step towards her.
“Of course not,” Hermione snarled. “But if you come any closer, I swear to Merlin…”
“You’ll what? Jump me?”
Hermione gaped for a moment, trying to come up with something to say. She thought of nothing, settling for glaring at him instead.
Draco chuckled. “I thought so. And just so you know, Granger; you’re not very subtle. I’ve seen you look at me, normally for a second longer than everybody else. When we work together, you sit closer to me than my other partners. And whenever I touch you, you sigh.”
Draco took another step, effectively blocking any means of escape Hermione could hope to have. He towered over her, smelling of expensive after-shave and something else – that heady Draco Malfoy smell that always sent a shiver down her spine.
“In that secretly sick, dirty, twisted little mind of yours, I know that whenever you look at me, listen to me, touch me, you’re thinking of smelling and tasting me too.”
Draco laid a palm on either side of her.
“You’ve wanted to fuck me for months, haven’t you Granger?”
She could deny it; she knew she could. She was smarter than him, and if she put on a convincing enough act, she knew she could make him believe that he had been reading the signs wrong; a by-product of his unquenchable arrogance.
But she had been denying this secret for eighteen months. She didn’t want to any more.
Hermione glared up at him, challenging him with her eyes, daring him to laugh.
“Yes, all right? Yes.”
Draco smirked at her again, which, in her opinion, was more insulting than being laughed at.
“Well, we’ll have to do something about that, won’t we?”
Hermione had no idea what he was talking about, and after having admitted what had been her biggest secret to the last person she had ever expected to admit said secret to, she wasn’t in the mood for being ridiculed.
“Excuse me?” she asked.
“You really haven’t a fucking clue, have you?” Draco asked, and before Hermione could think of an adequate response he closed the space between them, claiming her mouth with his own.
Hermione was taken completely by surprise. What should she do? Should she slap him? Kick him in the misters? Let him keep going? Her brain was screaming at her; imploring her to realize just how bad an idea this was, and that this was Draco, for Merlin’s sake. But her rapidly increasing heart rate and the tingly feeling in the pit of her stomach were urging her to continue. She then felt Draco’s hand on her thigh, worming itself under her skirt. He rubbed at her sex through her underwear, and as the tip of his pinky brushed against her clit, Hermione knew that she wouldn’t be turning back. This was what she wanted, and she was going to have it.
And so she kissed him back, her hands running up his shoulders to either side of his head. Her fingers threaded their way through that silky hair, and it was just as smooth and soft as she’d expected it to be. He massaged her pussy again and she gripped him harder. He removed his hand and started rapidly undoing the buttons of Hermione’s blouse.
Hermione leaned forward as Draco took the blouse off and threw it away. She was keen to get away from the cold brick wall of her office and guide him to the floor, and she started trying to move away from him. She then gasped in pain as Draco suddenly grabbed her tightly by the wrist, stopping her from moving anywhere.
“Going somewhere?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.
“I…” Hermione stammered, glancing at his hand gripping her wrist, at the floor, then at him again. “I just thought we should move—“
“Why don’t we try something different?” he interrupted. “Something that I think you’ll like much more than what you’re thinking.”
“O…OK,” Hermione whispered, surprised to hear her voice tremble. Hermione didn’t get scared very often, especially after the events of seventh year, and she certainly wasn’t scared of Draco Malfoy. So why was she trembling?
“You’re horny,” Draco said, as though he’d been able to read her thoughts. “They all think you’re sugar and vanilla. You’ve never been fucked rough before, have you?”
Hermione didn’t answer, and Draco suddenly pushed her, hard, against the wall. Her mostly bare back hit rough brick, and she could feel the nicks of the wall scratching her exposed skin.
“Answer me! You’ve never been fucked rough before, have you?”
“No,” she gasped. “Never.”
Draco snatched her wrists and thrust them above her head. She looked up at him, acutely aware of how vulnerable she was in this position.
“But you’ve always wanted to be,” Draco continued. “Why else would you want to fuck me? I’m not going to treat you gently in the slightest. I’ll treat you like a common whore. You’ll wake up tomorrow with scratches and bruises, and your body will ache for weeks. And it’ll be the best fuck you’ve ever had.”
Hermione couldn’t help it. She was fairly sure he was faking it, but he was saying despicable things to her; things that should be making her want to punch him in the face. But she didn’t want to do that at all. Rather, every dirty syllable he uttered was making her all the more turned on. The thought of Draco taking her in the way he’d just described made her hotter than anybody should be made by such promises of maltreatment. She tried to stop herself, but she couldn’t; she moaned.
“You’re a disgusting slut,” Draco said. Keeping one hand on both of hers, he reached down with the other, slid it under her skirt and felt between her legs. “And you’re fucking soaking.”
Hermione made no response other than to moan softly and thrust against his hand; a difficult enough thing to do when your arms are being held above you and you are thus unable to use them to assist you. Draco, to his credit, got the message and released her hands. He kissed her again, hard and long, and his hands felt their way behind her to undo her bra.
He managed, somehow, to pull the complicated garment off without compromising his pace or rhythm. He broke off the kiss and, placing one hand on each breast, began massaging them. Hermione closed her eyes, pushing her chest further out, trying to get him to press harder.
Draco grinned, enjoying her ready submissiveness. She had surprisingly nice tits, and he couldn’t deny that he was enjoying the feeling of them under his hand, the nipples now hard and erect and scratching lightly against his palm. He leaned in again and, selecting a spot just above her collarbone, started to suck.
“Mmmm,” Hermione murmured, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. She continued to thrust against him, and as he ground against her he felt his heavy bulge bumping against her wetness through their still-too-many layers of clothing, clearly longing to be free.
Draco trailed his way down her front, leaving a line of kisses down her chest. He reached her left breast and ran his tongue along the nipple before taking it in his mouth. Just as it was beginning to occur to Hermione that he had stopped being aggressive, she felt a sharp pain as Draco bit down with more force than was strictly necessary. She shrieked, and tightened her grip on him. Her left breast ached and he hadn’t stopped molesting it with his tongue, but the pain was incredible in a way that she wasn’t expecting. Hermione had never before thought that pain inflicted during sex could possibly be arousing, but right now she was so aroused the fact that nothing was making contact with her clitoris was almost painful. She tried in vain to rub her legs together to create some friction. Draco felt her change in position and finally detached his mouth from her nipple.
“Eager, aren’t we?” he asked her. “Don’t worry; you won’t have long to wait.”
He turned to her right breast and started to suck it as well, at the same time slipping his hand under her skirt and massaging her sex through her panties. Hermione groaned and reached for Draco’s trousers. When he didn’t object to the contact she plucked frantically at his belt, undoing it and pulling his trousers, and his boxers, as far down as she could without forcing Draco away. She shrieked as he bit her again, and he wriggled the rest of the way out of his trousers, kicking them aside as he ceased his sucking.
“Why the—“ she started to demand, but he interrupted by grabbing her by the waist and turning her around. Hermione gasped as her breasts pressed against the same rough wall that had been scratching her back earlier. The sharp nooks now dug into her far more sensitive breast tissue, and she groaned as Draco pushed her harder against the wall.
“See?” Draco growled into her ear. She could feel him pushing her skirt above her waist. “You like it rough.”
His hands slid their way under the elastic band of her panties. He pulled them slowly down, savouring the inch-by-inch exposure of Hermione’s arse and soaking pussy. Hermione stepped out of her panties and moaned with want as she heard him smelling them. If he started to suck them she knew she’d be gone. Thankfully he discarded them before she needed to consider the implications of that.
“So spankable,” Draco murmured, and Hermione felt his hands running along the soft cheeks of her arse. A sudden whoosh, followed by a hard slapping sound, and Hermione yelped at the sudden stinging sensation. A second sharp slap, and both of her lower cheeks were on fire. Then Draco’s hands were there, rubbing them, pressing the sensitive flesh down, emphasizing the pain. It was almost too painful, and then one of Malfoy’s hands went lower, running along her glistening folds, at last arriving at her clit, which he pressed down on firmly.
“Oh, Merlin,” Hermione murmured, the stinging feeling on her breasts and arse cheeks somehow intensifying her pleasure. Draco continued to press her clit as he brought his other hand down. He thrust too fingers into her, and to his satisfaction felt Hermione’s vagina muscles immediately trying to squeeze his fingers out. She was more than ready.
“I warn you,” he said softly to her, guiding his throbbing cock to her entrance. “It’s bigger than my fingers.”
“I don’t… fucking… care!” Hermione panted, riding the hand that was still on her clit. “Just… put it in me!”
“You shouldn’t be ordering me around,” he reprimanded her. “But this time, I’ll be lenient.”
He pushed against her, thrust himself up, and he was home. Hermione groaned in appreciation. He was right; he was big. Hermione would have been surprised if he had been anything but. But somehow he fit her perfectly, filling her up so wholly, so completely, that she couldn’t imagine anything better than this.
Draco didn’t give her much time to recover from his quick penetration. Keeping one hand on her clit and bringing the other to her hip for anchorage, he began to thrust aggressively against her, using her pelvis to keep him level. He massaged her clit at the same time, and every jerk pushed Hermione against the wall, scraping her breasts against the hard surface.
The combination of sensations was so intense it didn’t take Hermione long at all to go over the edge. With yet another shriek she came, her juices spilling over and onto Draco’s cock as her muscles squeezed him repeatedly.
Draco continued thrusting into her, keeping that one hand resolutely on her clit. Hermione had never before experienced more than one orgasm in one… session, as one might call them. And yet, she found to her surprise that by the time Draco had shot his load into her, she wanted to do him once more.
And so, when Draco slipped out of her, she straightened up, whirled around and kissed him again. She could feel his surprise but he quickly recovered and started kissing her back. As she kissed him she backed them away from the wall towards her cluttered desk.
As she broke off the kiss Draco managed to say “what are you—“ before she sat on her desk and spread her legs wide. He faltered and was left to stare instead.
“I want to go again,” Hermione explained, reaching out to finger Draco’s tie. “Besides, you can’t do something like that for me, and not expect me to give you something in return.”
She pulled on his tie, capturing his lips with hers yet again as she struggled to undo it.
After trying for several moments, Draco smacked her hands away to undo it himself. “Bloody hopeless,” he murmured.
“Yeah, all right,” she frowned. “If you wore clip-ons there wouldn’t have been an issue, would there?”
“I don’t think my dignity could have taken it,” Draco contradicted. “Only Muggles wear clip-ons.”
Hermione snorted at his ignorant assumption. “Yeah, of course. Because the process of putting on a tie is too difficult for the tiny Muggle brain to comprehend. Muggles invented neckties, you know.”
“I honestly couldn’t give a toss, Granger. Now are we going to fuck or not?”
“We’re fucking, we’re fucking,” she said.
She slipped her hands between them and started undoing the buttons of his shirt. Draco’s lips latched themselves onto her neck again, while his other hand quickly found the zipper of her skirt and swiftly undid it. She lifted her arse off the desk as he pulled the skirt down before shrugging out of his shirt. They were now both entirely naked, apart from Hermione’s stockings. Their lips met again, and Draco swallowed the sigh that escaped from Hermione’s vocal chords at the feeling of her breasts rubbing against his chest. Draco pushed against her and she lay on her desk, on top of the reports that she had spent the past hour and a half completing. She stiffened a chuckle as she thought of giving those reports to her boss after this.
She found out first hand that she couldn’t lie entirely along the width of her desk, and her head hung over the edge. To Draco’s fortune, however, her awkward position caused her breasts to stick out in a most alluring fashion, and as he took the left one in his mouth and massaged the right, Hermione decided she didn’t mind this position very much at all.
Draco’s other hand nudged her legs apart once more and quickly sought out her clit, which was already engorged and begging to be touched. He kneaded it firmly with his fingers, hardly noticing the mewls of pleasure coming from Hermione. He sucked her right breast for a while as well, taking care not to bite this time, as he didn’t think it prudent to aggravate the scratches she had sustained from before any more than necessary. He continued to press against her clit until he felt her start to thrust against him. Perfect. He started guiding his cock toward her pussy, but to his surprise she smacked him away.
“No. Come around here first,” she said, head still dangling off the desk.
Draco was tempted to ask why, but he obliged her and came to the other side of the desk. He reached out to touch her breast but she pulled his hand away.
“Don’t touch me,” she told him. “Let me touch you.”
“From that angle?” Draco asked skeptically.
“Yes,” Hermione answered, and her hand reached out, making contact with Draco’s stomach, however clumsily. She wormed her hands to either side of his waist and pulled him closer towards her. Leaning her head back, she drew out her tongue and started to lick him. She dragged her tongue as high as she could, circling his navel several times, before tilting her head more to find the part of him she had been searching for.
Her hands brushed along the tangle of dark blonde curls she wasn’t surprised to see, until her hands managed to grasp the shaft. She pulled him in just a little bit more before managing to suck the tip into her mouth. She swirled her tongue lightly around it, and was rewarded by him involuntarily thrusting further into her. She continued to suck, more and more, until she had as much of it in her mouth as she could hope to have without injuring herself. As she sucked she gripped the rest of his shaft with one hand and fondled his balls with the other.
“Oh Merlin,” she heard him murmur.
She felt his hands on her hips, and everything got darker as he leaned over her. His tongue traced its way along her chest, past the valley between her breasts, over her stomach, dipping into her navel for an instant before travelling lower. He parted her drenched pussy lips as carefully as he could while such a huge part of his mind was being distracted by Hermione’s administrations. Sticking out his tongue, he placed it on her clit and pressed it hard.
“Mrrhh!” Hermione cried; her mouth too full for her to cry anything else. Her legs spread wider and she thrust upwards, trying desperately to get him to continue. When he didn’t she took him from her mouth and gasped “Go back! Go back! I want you in me!”
Draco didn’t need telling twice. He ran around the desk and, settling himself between her legs, plunged into her with one quick, hard thrust. His hands wriggled underneath her arse as he started to move, slowly at first, until he found his rhythm and started to quicken his pace. Hermione shrieked with pleasure, her hand moving down to her clit and pressing it; delightfully enhancing the already intense sensations coursing through her. Draco was thrusting so hard the desk was rocking to his rhythm.
“Harder… faster…” Hermione begged, wrapping her legs firmly around him. Draco grunted and moved his hands from her arse to the other edge of the desk, level with Hermione’s shoulders. He took one breast firmly in her mouth and, now using the desk as leverage, rammed viciously into her. Hermione’s back arched into him in time with his vicious thrusts, each one causing a still louder moan to escape her mouth.
Draco switched to her other breast and that was all it took. With one final shriek Hermione came, arching her back higher, trying frantically to get as much of his delicious cock inside her as possible. As she clenched around Draco he went over the edge as well, gripping more firmly onto the desk as he shot his seed directly into her.
They continued to thrust against each other until their orgasms ebbed away, and Draco finally collapsed onto her, his now-flaccid cock still sheathed inside her wet pussy.
Hermione stretched her arms into the air, bathing in the amazing feeling of satisfaction now enveloping her.
“That was fantastic,” she breathed.
She felt a low rumble coming from his chest. She took that to mean he was laughing. “Glad you enjoyed it.”
“It was better than anything I’d ever imagined,” she continued, unable to stop herself. “And to think; if you hadn’t come into my office today to bother me, it wouldn’t have happened.”
“Well in that case,” Draco said, lifting his head to grin down at her. “I’ll have to start bothering you even more from now on.”