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“Are you sure you didn’t want to come, baby?”
Draco tilted his head as he said it, his voice already dressed for public consumption even though they were still in their bedroom.
Hermione was standing close, fingers busy at his tie because she needed something to do with her hands that wasn’t cataloguing the way he looked in formal black, sharp, expensive, infuriatingly sexy.
His hand stayed on her waist, exactly where it always went, thumb tracing a slow, absent path along the fabric of her white nightgown like he wasn’t about to attend a gala and like she wasn’t supposed to be resting.
"No,” she said, finally, because she was nothing if not consistent. “I feel dreadful, my head is pounding, my patience is thin, and it’s a gala, not a crisis. No society will collapse if I’m not there to glower at people who already know better.”
She flattened his lapel, smoothed it once, because it didn’t strictly need smoothing but she did. “It’s donor-heavy, self-congratulatory, and scheduled too late in the evening for people who claim to care about public service. I will not be missed. At all.”
Draco didn’t answer right away. He watched her instead, taking in the way the nightgown hugged her curves, the way the fabric fell open slightly to reveal tantalizing glimpses of her skin. Eyes following, the set of her lips, the way she leaned in without realizing she had
“I would,” his thumb pressed slightly more firmly into her waist, enough to register intent.
She huffed softly, because she refused to give him the satisfaction of immediate capitulation. “You would survive,” she smiled, looking up at him now, meeting his gaze. “You’re perfectly capable of terrifying dissenters all on your own. You do it constantly.”
His mouth curved, faint but unmistakable. “True,” he agreed. “But it’s less enjoyable without you.”
Hermione felt Draco's hands slowly sliding down to her ass, and she immediately caught his wrist mid-motion,
“Oh no,” she insisted, flat and unimpressed, already stepping back just enough to reassert the boundaries of time and sanity. “I know exactly what you’re doing.”
His brows lifted in a picture-perfect imitation of surprise, the kind that had fooled half of the Wizengamot and absolutely no one who shared a bed with him. “I beg your pardon,” he let his hand fall but not retreating, posture still relaxed, still looming just enough to be annoying.
“I wasn’t doing anything,” he added smoothly, feigning innocence, eyes bright with the knowledge that this was a lie.
Hermione crossed her arms, because if she didn’t put them somewhere safe, she was going to shove him in the bed and that would derail everything.
“You were absolutely doing something,” she replied. “You were talking, and then you were touching, and then you were very deliberately slowing down, which is always the part where I lose track of time and we end up having sex.”
As she spoke, his hands continued their slow, teasing exploration of her body. One hand moved up to cup her jaw, his thumb gently stroking her cheek as he gazed down at her. “That seems speculative,” he said. “I fail to see how conversation inevitably leads to having sex.”
“Draco, I have been with you long enough to recognize a pattern. You don’t initiate physical contact unless you’ve already decided where it’s going to end.”
He stepped closer again, his other hand slid higher on her thigh, his fingers tracing lazy circles on her skin. "I could be quick.”
Hermione stared at him for a long, measured moment, eyes flicking over his face, his posture, the very specific stillness he adopted when he was about to push his luck.
Then she said, evenly, “We both know you’re not.”
Hermione had a strict night routine; not because she was inflexible she was extremely flexible, thank you very much but because routine was how she kept her brain from running itself into the ground.
The routine usually went as follows: a warm bath long enough to convince her muscles to unclench, tea that was actually good and not whatever passed for “relaxing” in Ministry pantry, a book she had already vetted for stupidity, and Draco Malfoy preferably naked, warm, curling around her from behind.
Tonight, however, Draco was at a gala, which meant the routine had been brutally reduced to bath and book and bed, and Hermione was coping about as well as could be expected under such cruel circumstances.
She climbed into bed alone, book already open, pillows arranged exactly the way she liked them. She knew he’d be home late, galas did that. He also always said he’d be quiet about it, which was optimistic bordering on delusional.
Draco Malfoy had many talents and stealth was not one of them.
She shifted without thinking, angling herself just enough to leave space behind her, to preemptively accommodate for his limbs. She read for a while, actually read, not just stare at the page until the familiar heaviness set in, the kind that came from knowing exactly how the night would end.
Because Draco Malfoy did not come to bed like a normal person.
Normal people wore pajamas. Draco did not. He obeyed one rule, her rule and that is no outside clothes in bed, ever, which meant he usually slept naked and acted like this was simply compromise rather than a personal choice designed to be deeply irritating and inconvenient for her concentration.
He tried to be quiet. He always did but the door would betray him first, then the mattress, then the pause where he lay there deciding whether she was asleep and whether that would stop him from touching her. It never did. He'd slip in behind her with practiced ease, careful enough not to jolt her but clearly unconcerned if she woke. One arm looped around her waist automatically, drawing her back until she fit against him exactly the way he preferred, like he was aligning furniture he owned.
Hermione would make the obligatory sound of complaint, something soft and annoyed but it was a lie; she never actually objected.
He'd adjust her like it was muscle memory. A slight tilt so her neck wasn’t bent wrong, a tug closer because space was inefficient. His hand would find her hair, fingers combing through slowly, absent-minded, grounding, the kind of touch that shut her brain up before it could start listing reasons she should stay awake.
Then the murmur, low and warm against her ear.
“Goodnight, baby.”
As if the day didn’t officially end until he said it.
The kiss followed, always the forehead, then the soft squeeze that was equal parts affection and claim and then he would fall asleep almost immediately, breathing evening out while he was wrapped around her, skin to skin.
But tonight, she was woken up differently.
Hermione registered the squeeze first, although without usual bare skin and the familiar heat she expected, but weight and pressure and the unmistakable drag of fabric. Her eyes snapped open halfway as her brain caught up with her body, cataloguing details on instinct alone: one arm locked around her waist, the other looped higher, across her torso, holding her in place. His chest was solid behind her, clothed.
Fully, offensively clothed.
"Draco?" she murmured sleepily, her voice husky with grogginess as she registered the situation.
She shifted slightly, testing, and the response was instant. He squeezed her harder, like he’d anticipated the attempt and preemptively shut it down. His head was buried against her shoulder, breath warm, fingers trailed slowly through the thin fabric of her nightgown.
Hermione exhaled sharply. “Draco,” she tried again, she could feel the seams of his sleeves, the crispness of his coat, the ridiculousness of it all pressed flush against her back.
“Didn't we talk about outside clothes in bed?”
He didn’t answer right away. His fingers kept roaming over her body, tracing the curves of her hips, the softness of her stomach through the thin fabric. She could feel the heat of his skin, the way his breath came out in heavy pants against her neck, he was breathing as if he were suffocating, as if he couldn't get enough of her even in sleep.
“I’ll change,” he murmured finally, voice low, already gone soft, though he still wasn't moving.
“Mm,” she replied flatly. “At some point this century?”
His fingers stilled for half a second, then resumed, slower now. He sighed against her shoulder, the sound of a man who had spent hours being composed and was done with it.
Hermione lay there, pinned by her boyfriend in formalwear, deeply irritated, deeply fond, and very aware that this was not how the night was supposed to go.
Though, she didn’t tell him to let go.
She shifted slightly in his embrace, trying to understand his state. Was he even conscious? or was he caught in some kind of dream? Her heart raced, a mixture of concern and anticipation flooding through her.
The way he held her was wrong that made her fully awake in seconds, too tight, too anchored, like if he loosened his grip even a fraction she might vanish, dissolve, apparate out of his arms without warning.
Draco Malfoy did not cling. Draco Malfoy placed his hands with intent and confidence and then let go when it suited him.
This was not that.
Hermione’s hand came up slowly, resting over his forearm where it was locked across her middle. She didn’t try to pry him off, that would have been pointless and rude, instead she rubbed her thumb over his sleeve.
“Draco,” she murmured, low and soft, because the man was clearly not in a state to handle volume. “Baby— Are you okay?”
He exhaled against her shoulder, long and uneven, fingers flexing like he’d only just realized he was touching her. His grip didn’t loosen. If anything, it tightened, just a notch.
“I’m fine,” he said immediately, too quickly, voice rough around the edges in a way that made her frown. “Go back to sleep—please”
Hermione did not go back to sleep. Hermione had dated this man. She knew when he was lying.
She shifted just enough to angle her head back, enough to breathe him in properly and there it was. Expensive whiskey, clinging to the crisp lines of his suit like it had followed him home.
“Are you drunk?” she asked calmly.
“No,” he replied, equally calm, which was suspicious. “I had a few.”
She snorted softly before she could stop herself. “You smell like a very well-funded bad decision.”
His forehead pressed into her shoulder, the movement clumsy and uncharacteristic. “I didn’t mean to wake you,” he said, words tumbling closer together now. “I’m sorry—just—go to sleep. You sleep. Please.”
Her brows knit. That word again. Please. Draco Malfoy did not say please like that.
Her hand slid higher, fingers brushing his wrist, feeling the tension there. “You’re gripping me like you think I might run,” she said quietly. “Which is impressive, considering I’m in bed and half unconscious.”
He huffed a weak sound that might have been a laugh if it had more confidence behind it. “Just— stay,” he demanded. “I just need to hold you for a bit. That’s all. I won’t do anything. I swear.”
Hermione sighed. “Alright,” she said, reaching back to lace her fingers through his, easing his grip just enough to make it sustainable. “But you’re not fine. And you definitely drank more than ‘a few.’ And you’re wearing a suit in bed.”
A faint sound against her shoulder. Amusement, maybe. Relief, definitely.
“I’ll change— later,” his arms tightened again, slower this time, less frantic. He breathed her in like he needed it.
Hermione stared into the dark, mildly concerned, deeply fond, and already making a mental note to interrogate him in the morning.
For now, though, she let him hold her, because something had clearly rattled him and whatever it was, he’d come home to her first.
Hermione tried to settle back down, closing her eyes as Draco whispered his reassurances, his voice low and soothing in the darkness but then she felt the telltale sound of rustling, the soft zip of a zipper, and her eyes snapped open, her body tensing.
He shifted behind her, enough to register as activity. His shoe scuffed faintly against the bed frame; who climbs into bed in formalwear and keeps the shoes on?
Hermione sighed through her nose. “Draco,” she said quietly, not turning around. "Baby—what are you—" she gasped as she felt his fingers hiking up her nightgown.
“Nothing,” he replied immediately, the warm hard length of his cock suddenly pressed against her ass, and she squirmed involuntarily, her heart racing.
"Draco—" she cried out, as she felt him positioning himself. She felt his grip tighten again, like he was trying to anchor her while also accomplishing… whatever the hell this was.
Her hand slid back, palm pressing lightly to his arm in a silent behave yourself.
“You’re doing something,” she insisted.
He huffed softly, breath warm at her neck. “Please,” he muttered. “Just—just go to sleep. I’ll be quick. Baby. Please.” his fingers hooked into the fabric of her panties, pulling them to the side.
She instantly felt the dry pressure of his cock nudging against her ass cheeks, and immediately her body recoiled, a sharp gasp escaping her lips. The friction was too rough, and she squirmed under him, her hands gripping the sheets tightly.
She wasn't wet down there, not yet, and the dry rubbing against her skin made her wince.
“Draco,” she nudged his arm with her elbow, her voice breaking slightly as she felt the uncomfortable pressing. “it—ngh—hurts.”
"I'm— sorry baby." he shifted his hips slightly, trying to find a comfortable angle, but every movement just rubbed his dry cock against more of her dry folds.
"Draco—I told you— it hurts." she winced again. "I'm not— I'm not wet enough."
"Fuck—I know baby," he muttered, his hands gripping her waist as he tried to steady himself. "Lift your hips up for me,"
She complied anyway, lifting her hips slightly, as he reached for the waistband of her panties, tugging them down just enough that they bunched up around her thighs, trapping them between the fabric.
Draco wasn't quite ready to plunge in yet, so he positioned his cock between her thighs instead. Slowly, he began to grind his hips, the warm, hard length of his cock rubbing against her folds, the head of his cock pressing against her clit, occasionally dipping just barely into her entrance.
"Fuck, you feel so good," he groaned, his other hand reaching up to slip beneath her nightgown. His fingers found her breast, kneading the soft flesh through the fabric, his thumb brushing over her nipple.
Hermione's lips parted in a soft 'o' shape as she felt Draco's grinding his hips against her, the friction of his cock against her sensitive folds. She could feel the wetness building between them, her arousal mixing with his precum, creating a slick trail of moisture. Every time he ground his hips, more of her essence was transferred to his thick shaft, coating him, preparing him to slide into her properly.
She squeezed her thighs together, trying to give him the pressure he sought, trying to help him feel more pleasure through the friction. But it wasn't enough, not for his desperate state.
"Spread your legs for me—" he commanded roughly, his grip tightened on her thighs, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he begged her to open up for him.
Hermione lifted her leg, trying to give Draco better access to her cunt, hoping that the increased angle would help him slide into her more easily.
"Wider baby—" he groaned, his voice strained with need. "I promise it won't hurt if you spread your legs wider for me."
But she didn't spread enough for his liking, his patience snapped like a rubber band. With a low growl, his hands gripped her thigh and pulled them outward, away from her body.
The position forced her legs apart, spreading her as wide as possible.
"Baby— be gentle—" she huffed.
"Fuck, I'm sorry," he breathed, but his hands didn't loosen their grip. "I need this. I need you like this—please."
Draco positioned himself at her entrance and thrust forward. His thick, hard cock pushed into her, the head popping inside as she gasped at the sudden intrusion. Despite all his careful preparation, despite the wetness coating both of them, she still wasn't wet enough, the lack of lubrication, made the entry painful, a sharp spike of agony that made her cry out.
"Ow— fuck— Draco." she squirmed and cried out, her voice breaking on a groan as she felt the intrusion.
But Draco didn't stop, his hands gripped her hips firmly, holding her steady as he began to press forward. "I know, I know —baby, I know it hurts—" he groaned. "But you'll get wet, I promise. Just let me fuck you—"
His cock continued its slow, shallow thrusts, and she could feel the change as her cunt began to relax around him, as the pain gave way to pleasure.
"Baby— ahh."
"Shh— I'm sorry—"
Draco had never been like this before, not even once or after trials or after bad Ministry days, not even after nights when the past crawled up his spine and sat there breathing. He was controlled to the point of irritation, measured even in bed, always aware of where he ended and she began.
This was different.
Hermione shifted her hips slightly, trying to ease the friction between her thighs. “Talk to me— What has gotten into you?”
His pace finally began to slow, his body heaving with exertion. He pulled out with a grunt, his cock glistening with their combined fluids.
For a moment he just laid there, panting, trying to catch his breath.
"Fuck," he breathed out, his voice hoarse. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I know I was too—"
There was a pause, too long. He shifted behind her again, like he was trying to organize thoughts that refused to line up. “It was—” he started, then stopped, swallowing. “Someone—No. Theo. It was Theo.”
Hermione’s jaw tightened. “Theo what, Draco?”
“He slipped something in my drink,” he said, words coming faster now, “A libidinous draught. Not poison—Merlin, not that—but something idiotic and experimental, and I didn’t notice until it was already—” He broke off, breath stuttering. His arms tightened reflexively, then loosened again when he caught himself. “I felt wrong—” He shook his head against her shoulder. “I just felt like I needed you. Immediately.”
Hermione closed her eyes, anger sparking sharp and immediate. “I am going to hex him into a wall,” she hissed flatly. “Possibly several walls.”
“I told him not to,” Draco muttered. “that I couldn’t—he said it would ‘take the edge off.’”
“Congratulations,” she replied dryly. “It took the edge off your sanity.”
"I know— I'm sorry—" he breathed, but his hands didn't loosen their grip.“You’re not angry?”
Oh, she's furious
Hermione stared into the dark, wide awake, mind already running through possibilities.
What kind of libidinous draught Theodore would think was funny. How much of it Draco had likely ingested. Whether this was a one-night problem or a several-hours-of-annoying-aftereffects problem. And, most importantly, how creative she felt like being about Theodore Nott’s impending reckoning.
That, she decided, would depend entirely on how the rest of her night went.
Draco pulled back just slightly, his hand moved between them. "I'll make it feel better baby— I swear." he spat on his fingers, the wet sound obscene in the quiet of the room, and immediately began pumping his cock with slicked fingers.
"Ugh—fuck—" he grunted, eyes locked on where his hand worked his cock, spreading the wetness over every inch of his length. The motion was fast, desperate, as he worked to get himself properly lubricated.
He could feel the difference immediately, the way his shaft glided easier now, the head of his cock growing even more swollen and sensitive. But it wasn't enough. He needed to be inside her, needed to feel her walls clenching around him.
So with a low growl, he pulled his fingers away from his own cock and brought them close to her mouth.
"Spit—baby" he commanded. "Suck on my fingers—get them nice and wet for me—"
Hermione opened her mouth and allowed two fingers to slip inside, her tongue traced along his fingers, coating them thoroughly with her saliva. Droplets of her spit trailed down his palm, falling onto his wrist, and she could feel it dripping onto her skin too.
His other hand slid around to grip the curve of her ass, squeezing the soft flesh as his wet cock slick with saliva and precum pressed against her ass more insistently, while grinding his hips against her from behind.
Draco pulled his spit-slicked fingers out of her mouth, trailing a strand of saliva from her bottom lip to her chin. He brought those wet fingers down to her cunt, pressing them against her folds, rubbing slowly, spreading her saliva around her entrance and along her clit.
Her eyes nearly crossed with pleasure. "Ahh— Draco."
"There we go," he murmured, his fingers working her with practiced ease, knowing exactly where to touch to make her feel good. "Is that better baby?"
"Mhm—ahh." she bit her lip, "Just—like that baby—"
He continued to rub her, his fingers occasionally dipping just inside her, teasing, promising and she could feel it; she was getting wetter, her body responding to his ministrations.
Hermione's palm press against his cheek, her gentle touch a stark contrast to the desperation coursing through him. She turned her head to capture his lips in a deep, hungry kiss, his tongue immediately delving into her mouth to taste her.
She moaned into the kiss as his fingers plunged deeper, her body arching to take them in. She raised one leg slowly in the air, giving him even more access to her dripping cunt. The new position allowed his fingers to plunge deeper still, pumping them in and out, curling them to stroke along her velvety walls and making her toes curl with pleasure.
"Draco— ahh— shit baby." she cried out, struggling to kiss him back.
"Mhmm— I know— you're doing so good," he groaned, pumping his fingers in and out, working them deeper. "you're getting so wet—baby."
He could feel her arousal coating his digits, making the glide easier, slicker. He was determined to make sure she was ready, to prepare her properly for his cock.
His hips continued to grind against her ass, the thick, hot shaft of his cock pressing and prodding through her cheeks. He was leaking pre-cum, the head of his cock smearing the slick fluid against her skin, marking her, claiming her.
"Fuck, you're so fucking wet," he groaned, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. He wanted to ram into her, to bury himself to the hilt and never pull out.
Draco's fingers curled and scissored inside Hermione, working her arousal deeper, making her clench and flutter around him. He brought his thumb to her clit, rubbing the sensitive nub in firm, quick circles, hoping to push her closer to the edge.
His leg were nestled snugly between her thighs. He could feel the heat radiating off her skin, could feel her arousal slicking his fingers with every thrust.
The scent of their combined lust filled the air, musky and heady. His cock, hard and throbbing with desperate need, began to rub along her folds. The thick shaft slid through the slickness, the swollen head catching on her entrance, teasing her.
If he could just make her cum, if he could feel her pussy gripping and milking his cock as he fucked her, that's all he wanted, all he needed. To lose himself inside her, to find release in her warm body.
"I'm sorry baby, but I can't be gentle," he warned, his breath coming in hot gusts against her neck. "The draught has me so fucking horny, I need to be inside you. I need to fuck this perfect pussy until I can't— anymore."
Hermione cried out loudly as Draco's thick cock head pushed insistently at her entrance, stretching her open, threatening to penetrate her.
At the same time, his fingers continued pumping relentlessly in and out of her soaked cunt, curling and stroking her inner walls. The double penetration, his shaft and fingers claiming her simultaneously, sent shockwaves of pleasure and slight discomfort through her body.
"Oh god, Draco!" she cried, her nails tangling into his hair as her body instinctively arched into his touch. Her pussy clenched and fluttered around his invading fingers, arousal gushing out to coat his hand and dribble down onto the sheets below.
Draco groaned at the feel of her, the way she gripped and squeezed his fingers, the wet heat enveloping them. He could feel how ready she was, how desperate her body was to be filled by him. With each thrust of his fingers, he pushed the head of his cock a little harder against her entrance, feeling it stretch and yield, not quite accepting him yet but soon.
"Fuck, you're gripping my fingers so tight," he growled, his hips rocking slightly to slide his cock head through her slick folds. "Your greedy little cunt wants to swallow my cock, doesn't it? Wants to milk me dry until I can't fuck anymore?"
She could only moan in response, her eyes squeezing shut as the stimulation became too intense. She could feel every ridge and vein of his cock as it rubbed against her, every push and pull of his fingers as they fucked into her.
The pleasure was building rapidly, her orgasm approaching fast and furious.
"Please," she gasped out, not even sure what she was begging for. Please fuck me, please make me cum, please fill me up, it was all a desperate, needy mess of sensations and desire.
Hermione's body tensed, her back arching against him as her orgasm crashed over her.
Her pussy clenched rhythmically around his plunging fingers, gushing and dripping with her release. The sensation of her coming undone, of her silken walls grasping greedily at his fingers, only spurred him on.
"Baby— I'm cumming—ahh" she cried out, her voice breaking as the intense pleasure overwhelmed her. Her body convulsed, toes curling, as her orgasm surged through her like a tidal wave.
Draco felt her pussy clench and spasm around his still thrusting fingers, gripping them as her honey gushed out, coating his hand and dripping down onto her inner thigh.
"That's it, baby. Cum for me. Fuck," he groaned, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. He continued to pump into her, working her through her climax, extending her pleasure for as long as possible.
As her orgasm began to ebb, he slowly withdrew his fingers from her still dripping cunt. He brought them to his mouth, sucking them clean, tasting her essence mingled with his own saliva.
"Mmm, you taste so fucking good," he murmured, his voice a low, satisfied rumble.
But even as he savored her flavor, his own need was building to a fever pitch. His cock, hard and throbbing, pressed insistently against her entrance. Pre-cum dribbled from the tip, mixing with her arousal, making the head slick and ready.
"I need to be inside you—baby"
Even as Hermione shuddered through the aftershocks of her intense orgasm, Draco was already moving, his lust addled mind not allowing him to give her a moment's respite.
He climbed on top of her, his weight pressing down on the bed and her, pinning her beneath him. With a quick tug, he finally removed her bunched underwear, tossing it carelessly to the side.
Draco stayed there in his dark suit, still and composed, though his chest rose and fell a little too quickly. Hermione took in the sight of him, the way his hair had fallen into a soft, careless mess, silver strands catching the moonlight as their eyes met.
For a moment, he looked effortlessly handsome, all sharp lines and quiet confidence, like he had stepped out of a portrait and forgotten he was supposed to be fucking her.
His eyes raked over her naked body, taking in the flush of her skin, the rise and fall of her chest as she tried to catch her breath. He could see the slickness glistening between her thighs, the evidence of her pleasure still dripping from her well-fingered cunt.
It made his cock throb, peeking out obscenely from the zipper of his trousers.
"Look at you, baby," he awed, his voice thick with lust and admiration. "So fucking sexy, spread out for me like this. I don't think I can hold back anymore."
He hovered over her glistening pussy, his thick, saliva-slicked cock bobbing heavily between her spread thighs. He could see her gaze fixed on his impressive manhood, watching as he stroked himself, smearing the combination of her essence and his pre-cum up and down the impressive length.
Despite the sensitivity still lingering from her intense climax, Hermione found herself spreading her legs wider, giving him even more access to her dripping core. She couldn't take her eyes off him as he pumped his cock slowly, teasingly, getting it ready to impale her.
"Do you like watching me, baby?" Draco leaned down, capturing Hermione's lips in a heated, passionate kiss.
He pinned her head to the pillow with his hand, tilting her chin up to deepen the kiss. His tongue delved into her mouth, claiming her, possessing her. All the while, his other hand continued to pump his thick cock, stroking it to full hardness.
As he kissed her, he pressed the swollen head of his cock against her entrance, pushing insistently against her folds. He could feel her softening warmth yielding to the pressure, her body instinctively trying to open for him.
The sensation of his thick shaft prodding at her sensitive pussy drew a shudder from her, a needy whimper escaping into his mouth.
He broke the kiss, pulling back just slightly. A string of saliva connected their lips for a moment before breaking. He gazed down at her with lust-darkened eyes, his chest heaving with anticipation.
He pressed the swollen head of his cock against her entrance, pushing just slightly inside before pulling back out. In and out, in and out, he teased her, letting her feel the heat and hardness of him, the way he was throbbing with the need to be buried deep inside her.
"Open your mouth, baby," he commanded. "Let me see that pretty tongue."
Hermione parted her lips, staring up at him with hazy, wanting eyes.
"Good girl," he growled in approval, she felt a spurt of saliva hit her tongue as he spat into her open mouth, the warm, slightly bitter taste of him coating her taste buds.
The degrading, filthy act only served to stoke the flames of her arousal.
And then he was kissing her again, his tongue diving back into her mouth to tangle with hers. At the same time, he thrust forward, burying the thick length of his cock deep inside her tight, wet heat.
"Ahh— ngh— Draco—." she groaned into his mouth as her walls clenched around him, gripping him.
Draco pressed his hips forward, driving his thick cock deep into her until he was buried to the hilt inside her. He could feel her tight walls stretching around him, gripping his shaft like a silken glove.
The sensation of being so deeply, so completely filled made her vision swim and haze over, her mind struggling to focus on anything but the thick length throbbing inside her.
As he began to move, thrusting into her with long, powerful strokes, he trailed his lips along her neck. He placed hot, open-mouthed kisses along the column of her throat, his tongue darting out to taste her skin. His teeth grazed her pulse point, biting down just hard enough to make her gasp and arch beneath him.
"Oh god, baby—," she whimpered, her nails digging into his coat as she clung to him. Each thrust of his hips sent shockwaves of pleasure through her body, stoking the flames of her arousal. Her pussy clenched and fluttered around his pistoning shaft, trying to pull him deeper, to keep him inside her.
"Fuck, you're so tight," he groaned, his voice a low, strained sound. He could feel her velvet heat gripping him, squeezing him, milking his cock.
It was almost too much, too intense but he didn't stop. He couldn't stop. He had to keep fucking her, keep filling her up until they were both spent.
Hermione could only moan and writhe beneath him, lost in the haze of pleasure. The obscene sound of skin slapping against skin, the creaking of the bed frame, and her own wanton cries echoed through the bedroom.
She didn't know how she would survive the night with the relentless desire driving Draco, the way he was determined to fuck her until he couldn't fuck anymore.
She clung to his coat, her fingers fumbling with the material in a desperate attempt to remove it. With a swift, almost impatient tug, he shrugged out of his coat and tossed it to the side, leaving him in just his black, unbuttoned shirt and trousers.
The first button had come undone at the top, giving her a tantalizing glimpse of his chest.
Draco immediately dove back in to continue his assault on Hermione's neck, sucking and biting at the sensitive skin. He could feel her writhing beneath him, her pussy clenching and unclenching around him as he drove into her with long, deep hurried strokes.
"You're going to make me cum so fucking hard, baby." he groaned, his voice a low, rough sound.
Hermione could only moan in response, her body overwhelmed with sensation. She thought she had cum just a moment ago, but the intense pleasure radiating from where they were joined made her question it.
Each powerful thrust of his hips sent sparks of ecstasy zinging through her nerves, stoking the flames of her arousal higher.
"I—I'm cumming," she gasped out between moans, her nails digging into his chest. "I feel like—I'm going to— cum again."
Her words only spurred him on, his thrusts becoming harder, faster, more urgent. He could feel his own release barreling down on him, his balls tightening with the need for release.
Hermione could feel her orgasm building rapidly, the intense pleasure of Draco's relentless pounding pushing her closer and closer to the edge. Her thighs trembled and clenched around his hips as he drove into her, the obscene sound of flesh slapping against flesh filling the room.
Just as she thought she would surely come undone, he abruptly stilled his movements, his body going rigid above her.
She let out a cry of frustration, her nails digging into his chest as she felt the blessed respite from the overwhelming stimulation. At the same time, she could feel his cock twitch and throb inside her, the thick shaft pulsing with his impending release.
"Fuck, Hermione, I'm— I'm going to cum," he grunted, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. His hips jerked forward anyway, pressing his cock as deep inside her as possible as hot, thick ropes of cum began to paint her inner walls.
She could feel the warmth of his release flooding her, filling her up just as he'd promised. But even as he emptied himself inside her, his cock remained hard, a testament to his insatiable lust.
She glanced down between her legs as he pulled out, watching in awe as he revealed the thick length of his still-hard cock, coated in their mixed fluids. Despite having just cum inside her, he was far from satisfied, his erection jutting out angrily, the head an angry red and glistening.
"I'm so sorry, baby," his eyes met hers, and in their depths she could see the hunger, the unquenched desire.
He wasn't done with her yet.
"I need to fuck you again—"
Before Hermione could respond, Draco was plunging back inside her, burying his thick shaft to the hilt in one powerful thrust. He began to move, fucking into her with renewed energy, the bed creaking beneath them as he pounded her into the mattress.
"Ahh— shit—" she cried out, her back arching off the bed as she clung to him. "Harder," she begged, her voice breaking. "Please, fuc— harder baby"
She could feel her orgasm that had been building before surging forward again, the intense pleasure of his renewed thrusts pushing her rapidly towards the edge.
He responded to her plea, gripping her hips hard enough to leave bruises as he plunged into her with abandon. "Cum for me baby—"
Hermione's eyes rolled back in her head, lost in the throes of another intense orgasm. Her legs shook and trembled, quivering with the force of her release as Draco's cock pounded into her.
The sensation of being so utterly impaled on his thick shaft, feeling it throb and pulse inside her as she came again, was almost too much to bear.
"Ahh—!" she cried out, her voice a high, keening sound. "It hurts— so good baby—don't stop." Her pussy clenched and fluttered around him, gripping his cock as she rode out the waves of her climax.
Her moans spurred him on, driving him to fuck her harder, faster, with a desperation bordering on feral.
"That's it, fuck—cum on my cock," he growled, his hips slamming into hers with bruising force. He could feel his own release building again, his balls tightening as he chased his pleasure in her tight, wet heat. "I'm going to fill this cunt again and again until you're dripping with my cum. Until you can't take it anymore."
He punctuated his words with sharp, deep thrusts, the head of his cock kissing her cervix with each plunge.
She moaned and wailed beneath him, completely at his mercy, her body writhing and shaking as she was fucked through the aftershocks of her intense orgasm.
Draco guided her legs to wrap tightly around his waist. With a show of strength, he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her up, never pulling his cock out of her cunt. He flipped her towards the headboard of the bed and propped himself up against it, pulling her with him.
"Ride me— Hermione," he positioned her to straddle his hips, her thighs resting on either side of his muscular waist. "Grab the headboard and bounce on my cock. Take what you need from me."
Hermione could only nod, still dazed and overstimulated from her recent climax. She reached out and gripped the headboard tightly, her knuckles turning white as she tried to steady herself.
The new position allowed her to take even more of him into her, his thick shaft reaching even deeper inside her aching core.
Slowly, tentatively at first, she began to lift her hips and then drop back down, impaling herself over and over on his throbbing length. She could feel every ridge and vein of his cock dragging against her sensitive walls, igniting sparks of pleasure with each movement.
"It's too deep—baby," she whimpered, starting to ride him faster, harder. The new angle allowed her clit to rub against his pelvis with each bounce, stoking the embers of her arousal into a raging inferno once more.
"I—I don't know if I can take much more. You feel so deep inside me."
Sweat dripped down her flushed skin as she rode him with increasing fervor, her body undulating sensually above him. Her inner muscles squeezed and rippled around his plunging shaft, trying to milk him, urging him to fill her to the brim with his seed.
Draco's hands slid around Hermione's torso, feeling the soft fabric of her nightgown against her skin.
As she bounced on his cock with growing enthusiasm, he couldn't resist the temptation of her heaving breasts, watching them jiggle and sway with each movement.
He grasped the thin fabric of her nightgown and gave a sharp tug, ripping it open just enough to expose her bare breasts to his hungry gaze. Two perfect mounds, topped with hardened nipples, bounced free before him.
"Fuck, look at you," he groaned, his voice thick with lust. "Bouncing on my cock like a little slut, tits out and begging for my mouth." He leaned in, capturing one of her nipples between his lips, suckling greedily as his hand came up to knead the soft flesh of her other breast.
Hermione cried out in pleasure, arching her back to push more of her breast into his eager mouth.
The dual sensations of his hot mouth enveloping her nipple and his fingers sinking into the soft skin of her breast sent jolts of electricity straight to her core.
"Yes—just like that!" she gasped, her hips never stilling in their churning motions. "Suck my tits while I ride your cock—"
Hermione could feel her legs beginning to tremble and grow weak as the intense pleasure coursing through her body took its toll. She gripped the headboard tightly, her knuckles white from the force of her grip, as she leaned back against his strong chest. Panting heavily, she could barely catch her breath, her mind hazy from the countless orgasms that had ravaged her body.
"I...I can't...can't feel my legs," she whimpered, her voice barely above a whisper.
She wasn't even sure how many times she had cum on his cock, her body no longer able to keep track. All she knew was the electric numbness that seemed to encompass her entire being, setting every nerve ending alight with sensation.
Hermione slumped against him, Draco took advantage of her weakened state, gripping her hips tightly and beginning to buck up into her with deep, powerful thrusts.
He fucked into her slick, spasming cunt with a fervor that bordered on feral, chasing his own release with single-minded determination.
The new angle allowed him to reach even deeper inside her, his cock kissing her cervix with each sharp, upward snap of his hips.
Hermione could only moan brokenly, her pussy clenching and gushing around him as he used her, fucking her through the aftershocks of her countless orgasms.
"Fuck, you're still so tight," he groaned, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh of her hips as he held her in place. "Even after cumming on my cock so many times, you're still squeezing me. I can feel you dripping all over my cock, baby. You're fucking drenched."
His thrusts grew more erratic, more desperate, as he rapidly approached his own peak.
Hermione could only sit and take Draco's cock as he used her like a doll for his pleasure, her body limp and pliant in his arms.
Her mouth fell open, drool dripping from her lips as she gasped and moaned, overwhelmed by the relentless fucking. He licked the saliva from her chin before claiming her mouth in a deep, filthy kiss, his tongue plundering and conquering.
His hips never stopped their upward thrusts, fucking into her with desperate, almost violent intensity. Even as his balls tightened and he felt his release fast approaching, he didn't slow down. If anything, his thrusts grew harder, deeper, more insistent, the headboard slamming against the wall with each powerful snap of his hips.
"Mmmph!" she whimpered into the kiss, her pussy clenching and fluttering around his pistoning shaft.
She was so sensitive, so fucking sensitive, that every thrust sent shockwaves of raw ecstasy through her nerves. Her entire body was on fire, burning up from the inside out.
Draco could feel his climax building, his cock throbbing and pulsing inside her tight, wet heat. "I'm cumming again baby—"
With a final, brutal thrust, he buried himself to the hilt and let out a hoarse, guttural groan as he finally found his release. His cock jerked and twitched as he emptied his heavy balls deep inside her, flooding her womb with his hot, sticky seed.
And still, even as he filled her with his cum, his hips continued to rock and grind against hers, fucking her through the aftershocks of his intense orgasm.
He was insatiable, his lust for her seemingly unquenchable. He wanted to fuck her until she was dripping with his seed, until it was leaking out of her and onto the bed.
Draco gently laid Hermione down on the mattress, her body boneless and pliant beneath his. He remained on top of her, his weight pressing into her as his still hard cock still nestled deep inside her, plugging her up.
"I can't— feel my legs." her vision swam, her eyes struggling to focus on anything as she gulped for air, utterly spent from their intense fucking.
Draco smiled, and brushed a sweat-dampened strand of hair from her forehead, tucking it gently behind her ear. He gazed down at her, his eyes dark with a hunger that had not abated, even after emptying his balls inside her.
"I know baby— I am sorry," he murmured, his voice a low, soothing rumble. "But you did so good— Took my cock. I filled you up so fucking full, didn't I?"
As he spoke, his hips made small, slow circles, his hard cock stirring the cum inside her drenched, well-fucked pussy. The sensation made her whimper softly, her oversensitized walls fluttering weakly around him.
"I...I can't feel my legs," she repeated, her voice hoarse and raspy from her cries of pleasure. "I'm not sure I can move." she looked up at him with hazy, unfocused eyes, wondering how he could still have the energy to keep moving inside her.
Draco leaned in, capturing her lips in a slow, deep kiss. His hand slid down to gently massage the soft skin of her inner thigh, his fingertips tracing circles and patterns into her flesh as he held himself buried to the hilt inside her.
The kiss was a promise of more to come, a silent vow to continue lavishing her with pleasure and indulging her every whim.
"Mmm, sleep now, baby," he murmured against her lips, his voice a low, indulgent rumble. "I'll be right here, still buried deep inside this perfect pussy. I'll keep fucking you slow and gentle as you sleep."
He brushed a tender kiss to her cheek, his hand continuing to caress and soothe her trembling thighs.
"Tomorrow, I'm going to spoil you rotten," he promised, a small, indulgent smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "I'll buy you any books you want, all the ones on your list and more. I'll get you anything your heart desires, baby. You deserve it, after being such a good girl for me tonight."
"I love you baby—" she gazed into his eyes, her expression softening.
"I love you more," he breathed. "Sleep now, baby. Dream of my cock buried deep inside this tight, fucked-out cunt. Because that's where it will be all night."