Chapter Text
Hermione holds her towel against her chest as she steps into her bedroom, finding what can only be described as the world’s shortest and most ridiculous outfit laid out on her bed waiting for her.
“No, no, no no no.” She tucks the towel in on itself so it doesn’t fall down as she storms across the hall to her roommate’s room. She bangs on the door and knows Pansy hears her from the way her friend turns up the volume of her stereo. “Pansy!”
She tries the door which her roommate must’ve forgotten to lock.
“No.”
Pansy doesn’t even flinch where she sits, leaning over her vanity as she applies her eyeliner. She spots Hermione out of the corner of her eye. “You’re not dressed.” Once her eyeliner is perfected she turns on her chair. “I left an outfit out for you.”
Hermione scoffs. “Ha! Cute. I think you’ve confused me with yourself.”
Pansy rolls her eyes. “You can’t show up to a frat party in a sweater set and oxford shoes.” She wrinkles her nose.
“I can’t show up with my ass hanging out either.”
“Why not?” she asks plainly.
“Pansy!”
“Hermione!”
She huffs at her friend. “Your dress won’t even fit me. Can’t we at least pick something out of my closet?”
“That dress will look amazing on you, with your ass and tits.” She starts fanning herself. “You’ll have Draco all over you.”
“Who?”
“Don’t play coy with me. The guy you’re obsessed with from your finance class. Blond hair, strikingly grey eyes that follow said ass of yours wherever you go. He’s the president of the frat we’re going to tonight, by the way.”
Of course, Hermione knew that, hence why she can’t wear Pansy’s can-you-even-call-it-a-dress dress. “Why am I not surprised that he’s the frat president?” she mumbles with an eye roll. “Even if I were interested in him, which I’m most definitely not, he doesn’t see me that way.”
“He follows you around like a lost puppy.”
“That’s because I let him borrow my notes and help him with his homework.”
Pansy purses her lips, her head cocked to one side. “Mind if I go for it then?”
“What?”
Her friend shrugs. “I mean, if you’re not interested…”
“Oh! Yeah. Sure. Of course. Please.” Her voice comes out an octave too high and she has to clear her throat to center herself. “I mean, have fun. Absolutely. You should. I’m sure you’re more his type anyway.”
Her raven-haired friend quirks a brow. “You heard yourself, right? ‘Oh! Sure! Of course! It’s fine!’” Pansy mocks her then snorts. “Very convincing when your voice is as high as Willie fucking Nelson.”
Hermione ignores the dig, backing out of the room and shaking her head. “I’m going to go get dressed.”
“You better have that dress on when I come in there to do your makeup, Granger!”
She slinks across the hall and shuts her door with a huff, staring at the offensive garment as if it’ll disappear if she glares at it hard enough. With a sigh, and knowing Pansy is always true to her word, she shucks off her towel, throwing on some underwear and pulls on the dress. She’s still twisting and turning and trying to rearrange the clingy fabric when Pansy walks in.
“What in god’s name are you doing?” Pansy storms over to her, stopping her movements. “You can’t wear that.”
Hermione lets out a strangled noise riddled with frustration. “This is what you told me to wear!”
“Not the dress. The bra. And those knickers. For fuck’s sake. Have you never heard of panty lines? Do you need to borrow a thong, Granger?”
Hermione wrinkles her nose. “I’m not borrowing your underwear.”
Pansy rolls her eyes and moves to Hermione’s dresser, opening the top drawer. She rifles through until she finds something she deems acceptable.
“This. Put this on.” She hands Hermione a barely-there black lace thong.
Hermione chortles, shaking her head hard enough to muss up her curls. “Absolutely not.”
“When did you even buy this? I think I’d remember.”
“I wasn’t with you.” Hermione feels her cheeks growing warm.
“You went shopping without me? What if I went to a bookshop without you?” Her best friend pouts.
“It was a while ago.”
“But they’re brand new. The tag’s still on them.”
“I’ve never worn them.”
“Why?”
“Seriously, Pansy?”
“What! They’re hot. I can’t imagine you buying them to begin with—ah. That it, isn’t it. A gift from the ex?” She twirls the thong around on her finger.
“He thought I’d look better in something sexier.” Hermione snorts. “Then again, he also thought he’d look better with his dick shoved into other women, so, I didn’t take much advice from him.”
“Hmm. Well what better way to pay him back than to wear them for someone else?”
“I’m not wearing them for anyone. I’m not wearing them at all.”
“Well, you’re not wearing those.” She points to the seemingly offensive knickers Hermione currently has on. “So, pick your poison, Granger. The thong or nothing.”
“Pansy!”
“Don’t make me choose for you.” She gives Hermione her all-too-common mischievous grin.
Hermione snags the thong out of her best friend’s hand and disappears into the bathroom. She comes back out still wearing the bra, however. “What am I supposed to do about this?”
Pansy looks at her like she’s dumb. “Go braless? Tell me you have nipple covers.” Not even waiting for Hermione to answer—because honestly, she already knows the answer—the raven-haired girl disappears into her room and comes back with a small packet. She tosses it to Hermione who only barely manages to catch it. “Put those on or go braless. Once again, I don’t care.”
Hermione snags the dress and disappears into the bathroom. She struggles but manages to make the nipple covers work and slips on the dress. Her eyes are wide as she takes in her appearance. She tries to pull the dress up higher to cover her chest, but it keeps riding up and her butt is nearly exposed. She can’t pull it down to hide her ass without her tits nearly spilling out of the top.
Throwing open the bathroom door, she storms out to confront her roommate. “Let me repeat, no.”
Pansy’s jaw falls open. “You look fucking hot.”
“Pans—”
Her roommate sighs and walks over, placing her hands on Hermione’s shoulders. “Trust me, okay? Just this once. You look amazing and tonight is going to be so much fun. Give me one hour at the party. One. Hour. If after that, you’re still self-conscious and miserable and want to leave, we’ll leave. I promise. Deal?”
Hermione narrows her gaze. “I’m setting a timer on my phone.”
Pansy rolls her eyes. “Whatever, Granger. Now sit your ass down and let me do your makeup.”
***
“Stop fidgeting,” Pansy snaps as they walk up to the frat house.
“I can’t help it. Every step I take makes this dress ride up.” She tugs down on the hem of her dress once more. “And these shoes are already killing me.”
“Well if we’re lucky, soon enough you’ll be off your feet and on your back in Draco’s bed.”
Hermione scoffs but doesn’t have time to retort as they climb the stairs. They’re handed cups and waved inside to where people are crowded in the darkened house, only the sporadic flashing of neon lights lighting up the area. Music thumps loudly with people gathered in the living room, grinding against one another.
Pansy takes Hermione’s hand and leads her through the house to the kitchen. All types of liquor bottles and chasers are spread over the island with both girls and guys chatting and filling their cups.
Her roommate grabs a vodka bottle and fills each of their cups nearly halfway with the liquor.
“Jesus, Pansy! That’s enough.” Hermione goes about filling the rest of her cup up with sprite and cranberry juice to try to mask the taste.
“Let’s do a shot first.”
Hermione looks at her with wide eyes. “I have about four shots’ worth in this cup!”
“It’s all diluted now!”
“I don’t think that’s how it works.”
Pansy grabs two empty—and definitely dirty—shot glasses off the counter and fills them with more vodka.
“You’re really going to make me do a vodka shot?”
“Yup! Bottoms up!” Pansy holds out the glass.
“One second.” Hermione pulls out her phone. “Just setting my timer. One hour,” she reminds her best friend before grabbing the shot. “Cheers,” she deadpans and clinks her shot glass against Pansy’s before downing the burning liquid.
Her nose wrinkles and she nearly chokes on the cheap vodka, using her mixed drink as a chaser. She gags on that too and glares at Pansy.
“This is disgusting.”
Pansy shrugs and takes a sip of her own drink. “But it’ll get the job done.”
They put the shot glasses back on the counter and next thing she knows, Hermione is being pulled back toward the living room, her hand trapped in Pansy’s as she’s led to the makeshift dance floor.
With her cup in the air, Pansy starts dancing to the beat, trying to pull Hermione in with her. “Dance with me!”
Hermione shakes her head. “My ass is going to fall out.”
Her roommate grabs her hand and tugs her, nearly spilling her drink as she spins her around. “Grind against me then,” she half-yells into Hermione’s ear. “Besides, your boy’s over there and I think he just spotted you.” Pansy points to the left and Hermione can’t help but look.
Draco Malfoy is standing facing her, eyes pinned on her over the red solo cup he takes a long drink out of. A backwards baseball hat sits atop his messy blond hair making him look painfully sexy even though he’s in a basic white t-shirt and jeans.
He lowers his cup, and his eyes drag over her body, watching where her best friend’s hand rests on her hip, the sway of Hermione’s body against Pansy’s, lingering on her thighs and surely the ultra-short hemline of her dress.
“He’s eye-fucking the shit out of you,” Pansy says into her ear. “You should go over there.”
“And say what?” Hermione asks, her head turned to the side so her roommate can hear her.
“I don’t know. ‘Wanna fuck?’”
Hermione throws an elbow back at her friend. Her gaze drifts back to the cocky blond. Draco’s gaze never wavers, even as people come up and greet him and he offers them a handshake or a clap on the back.
She looks away then, eyes flitting down before closing, her head falling back to land on Pansy’s shoulder. Her friend lets out a mischievous giggle in her ear then, and Hermione assumes it’s from the liquor coursing through their veins until Pansy whispers in her ear.
“Never mind. You won’t need to go over there because he’s coming to you.”
Hermione whips her head back to where Draco was standing to see him walking her way, his eyes pinned on her. His arm is lowered, his hand holding the top of his cup as he approaches, a sinfully sexy smirk painting his lips.
“Granger,” he says in greeting. He cocks his head to one side as he watches until Hermione pulls away from Pansy to join him.
“Malfoy.”
“You look good.”
She’s grateful it’s dark in here and he can’t see the way he’s affecting her with his words and attention. “So do you,” she answers, hoping her voice appears cool and steady.
“Come play beer pong with me. I need a partner.”
She licks her lips and half turns her head to look at her friend. “I can’t. I’m here with—”
“She can!” Pansy shoves her lightly from behind.
Hermione turns around to glare at her friend and finds her staring at her sternly, communicating with her eyes to go with Draco.
“Go on, Granger. Have fun. Use protection.”
“Pansy!” she whisper-scolds.
“I’ll take care of her, Parkinson. You can count on me,” Draco says. When Hermione turns back to look at him, he’s smiling, mischief dancing in his grey eyes. “Shall we?”
Hermione nods and tries not to shiver as Draco leads her through the crowd with a hand on her lower back.
They walk into what is essentially a second living room set up with a beer pong table in the center and a keg in the corner. People are all around watching the ongoing game and calling dibs on who’s up next.
“Granger and I are next,” Draco calls, and no one fights with him even though there’s a list of people ready to play. That’s the perk of being the frat president, she supposes.
They don’t have to wait long for the current game to wrap up and when the losers step away, Draco and Hermione take their place. She places her drink and phone on the table as her partner refills and lines up the cups.
“Who’s your friend?” A tall, disarmingly handsome black man asks from across the table, a wicked gleam in his eye.
“Granger, these are my brothers, Blaise and Theo. This is Granger.”
“Ah, you’re the smart chick,” the guy she believes is named Theo tells her. He has messy brown hair, and a devilish grin and Hermione briefly wonders if you have to be devastatingly attractive to get into this frat.
“The smart chick?” She turns to look at Draco with raised brows.
“Yeah, he won’t shut up about you. Like you’re a shiny penny he’s keeping to himself.” Blaise smirks.
“Let’s see if my penny is also lucky.” Draco says, nodding toward the cups and effectively changing the subject.
Hermione feels a blush spreading across her cheeks but directs her attention to her opponents.
“Have you played before?” Draco suddenly asks, leaning in to whisper to her. His body is pressed against her, his breath ghosting over the shell of her ear.
Hermione’s own breath catches, and she shakes her head.
“I’ll teach you. We’ll keep to basic rules,” he says before moving away and snags her cup off the table. “But just in case…trust me, you want to move this. Part of the game.” He winks at her and tosses her drink in the trash—good riddance—just as Theo tosses the first ping pong ball. It goes right into one of the cups easily.
She picks up her phone quickly, not wanting to risk a drink spilling on it and turns back to Draco. “Can you hold onto this for me?” He nods and slips her phone into his pocket.
Blaise shoots his ball and just like Theo’s, it lands in the cup.
“Did Draco tell you the rules, Granger?” Theo asks as Draco moves the cups out of the way and fingers the balls out of them. “If it’s a shutout, you know you have to streak, right?”
Hermione whips her head to look at Draco, who simply rolls his eyes in response. “Don’t worry.” He leans back with the ball in his left hand, his muscles flexing slightly as he tosses the ball and sinks it in the front cup. “You’re safe with me.”
“So, that’s it? I just…throw the ball?” Hermione’s brows furrow. She’s the one who helps him with his homework, and this doesn’t exactly seem like rocket science.
“And try and get it in the cup, yes.”
Hermione lines up to throw it, arm in the air, when she’s stopped by her chatty opponents.
“Elbows,” Theo says and winks at her.
She turns back to look at Draco. “Your elbow can’t go over the table,” he explains.
Taking a step back, she lines up again, raising a brow at Draco’s brothers. “Better?” she snarks, only causing her opponents to grin at her.
“Have at it, Granger.” Theo waves his arm at her, telling her the floor is hers.
Determined, she aims and lets the ball fly…only for it to hit Blaise directly in the chest. “Shit,” she mutters.
Draco readjusts his cap in his head, the movement inexplicably but unmistakably attractive. “It’s all good,” he tells her. He leans into her body but talks loud enough for their opponents to hear. “We’ve got plenty of time. Theo tends to choke on the last cup anyway.”
“Fuck off, Malfoy,” Theo says before tossing the ball and sinking another ball.
The game carries on in a similar fashion. Theo, Blaise, and Draco all make their shots and Hermione misses every time. Hermione is growing nervous when it’s Theo’s turn once more and he makes his fourth shot in a row.
“Try bouncing the ball,” Draco suggests on her next turn.
“That’s allowed?” she whispers back.
“You’ll get two cups if you make it in,” he tells her, “but they’re allowed to smack your ball away or catch it off the bounce so make it quick.”
She nods and bounces the ball and watches with bated breath as it hits the rim and thankfully sinks into a cup. She’s nearly cheering when Theo reaches in and pops the ball out of the cup.
“What the fuck!?” Hermione shouts. “That’s cheating!” She turns to Draco. “My ball was in the cup. I should get that point.”
“It’s called fingering, Granger,” Theo starts with a smirk. “Rules are—”
“We said basic rules,” Draco tells him.
Theo’s lascivious grin in response spells trouble. “What? Your girl doesn’t know about fingering? Maybe you should rectify that, bro. Better yet, Granger, if you want to be on my team next, I can teach you all about fingering.” His eyes scan over her pointedly.
Hermione’s mouth falls open.
“Watch it, Nott,” Draco snaps.
“It’s all good,” Blaise says, stepping in. “We’ll give her the cup. You guys could use the help anyway.” He pulls Hermione’s cup out of the way and takes the ball from Theo for his turn.
Blaise squares his shot away and he and Theo only have two cups left. Draco passes Hermione one of the balls and sinks his shot.
“You got this, Granger,” he says.
She rolls out her neck as if she’s preparing for the game winning free throw in the WNBA. After taking her required step back, she lines up and shoots. The ball hits the rim…and bounces away.
“Damn. That was a messy little rim job. Do you normally go for rim jobs, Granger?” Theo snarks.
“Theo,” Draco snaps.
Hermione ignores Theo, flipping him off and turns back to Draco. “Sorry,” she mutters. Feeling ridiculously like she’s letting him down by losing this game.
“All good, Granger. We still got another shot.”
“But they—”
“Wait for it.” He winks again and moves to stand in front of the cups.
Blaise takes a shot and makes it. Hermione bites her lip, her heart feeling stupidly like it’s racing in her chest. Draco leans down, hands braced on his knees as he stares down Theo.
“Come on, T. Last cup. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
Confidently, Theo lets the ball fly and it misses, bouncing off the table where Draco catches it before it falls.
“Told ya,” he whispers to Hermione and passes her the ball. “Do you wanna go first this time?”
“Okay.” She shakes out her arms and lines up.
Draco stands behind her, his left hand on her waist, his right hand sliding down her arm to grip her wrist. “Your wrist is too tense. You have to be loose with it.” He shakes her wrist slightly until she goes slack in his hand. “Better,” he whispers against her ear. “You want to arc the ball, not line drive it.”
“You’re throwing a lot of sports metaphors at me right now,” she says and wonders if he catches how breathless she sounds.
He chuckles in her ear and the hair on the back of her neck stands on end. “Throw it like this.” He holds her arm, directing her in the motion she should lob the ball. “Got it?”
She nods and he steps away. Immediately, she misses his warmth, but she’s determined to make this shot. Taking a deep breath, she follows the motion he showed her, letting the ball go so it arcs perfectly over the table.
She holds her breath until the ball sinks into one of the back cups. Spinning around, she squeals and doesn’t think as she launches herself into Draco’s arms.
“I did it!” She hugs him and he catches her, arms wrapped tightly around her waist.
“Atta girl,” he whispers in her ear as he sets her back on the ground. He winks at her and keeps his arm draped lazily over her shoulders as he glances briefly at the table before sinking his own shot.
Hermione’s face must be bright red. She can feel her heartbeat thumping in her chest, her knees nearly weak at the praise he gave her. Her breathing is rapid, and she knows she’s looking up at him with ‘fuck-me eyes’ as Pansy would call it, but she doesn’t even care.
Blaise shoots and makes the final shot and Draco and Hermione each get one more turn, but when Hermione misses, she doesn’t even bat an eye. Theo and Blaise toss them a “Good game” before moving on to their next opponents.
They move to the corner of the room, Hermione tucked away as Draco seemingly looms over her with his hand pressed to the wall above her head.
“Sorry we lost,” she says, looking up at him from under her lashes.
“I don’t care,” he tells her. His gaze flits from her eyes to her lips. “It was your first time,” he says, his mouth twitching slightly.
“Thanks for teaching me how to play.” She shifts on her feet, her chest brushing up against his.
He nods once, eyes pinned to her lips. “Did you have to get back to your friend or…?”
“Or?”
“I could give you a tour.”
Her eyes land on his lips and she nods quickly. “Okay.”
He backs away from her and she instantly hates the distance between them. He holds out his hand and she takes it, allowing him to lead her through the house and up the stairs. She’s not sure if people are going to gossip about them or maybe no one even notices, but either way, she doesn’t much care.
With her hand tucked in his, Draco leads her down the upstairs hallway to a set of double doors. He produces a key from his pocket and unlocks the door, pushing it open and allowing Hermione to step through.
Immediately, she looks around the space, finding books stacked on every surface, a desk riddled with textbooks and open notes.
“Did you bring me to your room, Malfoy?” she asks, looking back at him where he’s still standing by the door. “Rather presumptuous, don’t you think?”
“I don’t know what you mean, Granger. This is just the first stop on the tour.”
“Hmm,” she says. She lifts up a baseball from his desk, tossing it once in the air and catching it before replacing it gently. “So I’m your smart friend, huh?”
“Is that what we are? Friends?” He asks, his hands pushed into his jeans pockets as he steps further into his room toward her.
“You tell me.” She turns to face him, fighting the urge to tug on her dress.
He steps up to her, his hand reaching up to twirl on one of her curls. “All I know is, I don’t want to be your friend.”
She grins and spins away from him, picking up a stack of papers on his desk. “All these tests and papers have As on them.” She waits for an explanation that never comes. “I thought you were failing our finance class.”
“What makes you think that?”
“You asked me to tutor you.”
He shrugs, a wicked grin on his face. “I just wanted an excuse to talk to you.”
“Draco Malfoy, President of Phi Omega Theta, needed an excuse to talk to a girl?” She shakes her head. “I have a hard time believing that.
“You’re not like other girls.”
“Do you use that line a lot?” she asks him.
“What kind of guy do you take me for, Granger?”
She shakes her head slowly. “Honestly? I don’t know anymore.” She leans on the edge of his desk, her hands on either side of her hips.
“Oh shit.” Draco digs into his pocket and pulls out her phone. “I think you’re getting a call.”
She notices her alarm going off. Has it really only been an hour? “Oh, thanks.”
“Did you need to get that?”
She shakes her head no. “It was just an alarm.”
His brows shoot up. “It’s not like, a birth control alarm or anything, is it?”
Hermione snorts. “No, it was…a deal I made with my roommate.”
“Do you need to go?”
“And miss out on the rest of my tour?” She sets her phone on the desk and moves through his space. She hesitates in front of one door and waits for him to answer.
“Bathroom,” he says.
She pushes open the door and snoops in his bathroom, expecting the worst. Shockingly, it’s tidy; there’s clean towels hanging on the rack and toilet paper actually on the roll and not a beard clipping in sight, though she supposes his beard would be rather fine in shade anyway.
The shower is nice with a rainfall showerhead and there’s even a jacuzzi tub. For a moment, Hermione is left wondering how frats buy college housing. Does the school buy it or the parents or the president?
No matter, she leaves the bathroom, noting the amused look on Draco’s face as she continues to snoop. In front of the second door, he tells her that’s his closet.
She pulls open the door and her jaw falls. An entire walk in closet. More impressively, the closet is filled to the brim.
“I think that about covers it,” Draco says from his spot leaning against the wall.
“Do you wanna know what I think?” Hermione asks from where she stands in front of Draco’s bed. “I think you should come over here and give me a tour of your mattress.”
He smirks in response and it in itself is enough to soak her panties even if he didn’t pair it with a lift of his damn cocky eyebrow.
Hermione wrinkles her nose. “Sorry. That was lame, wasn’t it? I was trying to be sexy.”
He takes long strides toward her, eyes devouring her. “I thought it was incredibly sexy.”
“Yeah?” she breathes out lightly, the word barely even forming.
“I think you’re sexy,” he tells her as he reaches her, his hands forming to her hips.
Hermione’s hands land on his biceps and as she looks up at him, his mouth comes crashing down on hers. She gasps, opening her mouth to him and he takes advantage, licking his way into her, his tongue dancing alongside hers. She moans into him, his tongue tasting faintly of liquor and mint.
She slides her arms up around his neck, pulling him tightly against her. His arms encircle her waist, palms teasing lower, testing her boundaries. Her hands bump against his hat, and he quickly reaches up, pulling it off his head and tossing it somewhere on the floor.
Draco leads her backwards until her knees hit the bed and she sits back. He climbs over her, his legs on either side of hers as he kisses her roughly with a hunger matching her own. Her fingers slip into his hair as his hands move downward, hiking her leg up over his hip. He grinds into her, his stiff length rocking against her core. His fingers cup her bare ass, squeezing the flesh and moaning into her mouth.
He breaks the kiss, panting against her as he says, “You have the most incredible ass I’ve ever seen.”
She giggles into him, hiding her face in the crook of his shoulder. He takes the opportunity to kiss her neck, bruising her skin, marking her as his own. Hermione tilts her head back, giving him access to more of her, her neck a canvas he can paint with his lips.
He works down her body, kissing the space between her breasts and suddenly she’s wishing she opted to go braless instead of having to peel pasties off her nipples in front of him.
She pushes at his shoulder and he pulls back immediately. “Are you okay?” he asks.
“Yeah, can you just…give me a minute?”
He shifts to the side, and she hurries off the bed, feeling unsteady in her heels. On shaky legs she moves quickly to the bathroom and shuts the door. Looking in the mirror, she quickly smooths down her curls, though she knows the effort is futile. She takes off her heels and reaches into her dress to peel away the nipple covers and tosses them in the trash. Once she’s steady, she opens the door and finds Draco leaning back against his pillows, his arm propped behind his head as he waits patiently for her.
She waltzes over to the bed, crawling back on the mattress and up his body to join him. He wraps his arms around her and spins her so she’s back underneath him.
“Do you have any fucking idea what you do to me?” He kisses her then, a growl climbing up his throat as he ravishes her. He moves down the same path as before, nipping at her neck, kissing over her collarbone, licking between her breasts.
He pauses, looking up at her briefly, hovering over her tits. She nods at him, granting him permission, frankly, to do whatever the hell he wants to her.
He slides her dress down over her breast, exposing her briefly, before sucking her nipple between his lips. He nips at her and she gasps, her back arching into him.
Draco moves to the other side, giving her left breast equal treatment. Hermione’s nails scrape over his back and she shucks up his t-shirt, desperately wanting it off, wanting to feel his skin on hers.
Kneeling between her thighs, Draco reaches a hand over his head to tug his shirt off his back and tosses it to the side. Hermione sits up, grabbing for the zipper and button of his jeans, her hand grazing his erection, straining beneath. As he moves to discard his pants, she reaches behind her to tug the zipper of her dress down.
She lies back down, and Draco helps her slip the dress over her hips, dragging it down her legs and throwing it to the floor, leaving Hermione in nothing but the skimpy thong Pansy insisted she wear.
She needs to remember to thank Pansy later.
“Holy fuck.” Draco’s fingers dig into her hip, and he stares down at her, his eyes moving rapidly from her bare tits to her lace-covered cunt and back again. “Roll over.”
“What?”
“Hermione,” his voice is husky and deep, gravelly with lust and rich in warning. “Roll the fuck over so I can see your ass.”
She flushes, her eyes going wide. Biting her lip, she rolls over, looking over her shoulder to watch his reaction.
“Jesus Christ.” He palms her ass, spreading her cheeks roughly. With one finger, he dips under the lace strip between her cheeks tugging it upward and letting it snap back against her skin.
She jolts, a gasp slipping from her lips, and she buries her head in the pillow. She’s still covered and yet she feels so exposed. He must know; can see her or smell her. One touch to her pussy and he’ll find her sopping wet for him.
He continues to fondle her ass and she jerks when his tongue drags against the seam of her panties. Keeping her ass spread with his hands, his tongue and lips work around the string bisecting her, and he moans against her, surely tasting her arousal.
“Fuck, Draco,” Hermione moans, her hips wiggling on their own accord.
His hands grip her tighter, holding her against the bed. A moan slips from her lips as he tongues at her, dragging against her skin, moving up, up, up until she squeals and flinches away from him.
“Draco!” She looks over her shoulder, finding a mischievous grin tugging at his lips.
“What? No anal on the first date?”
“None of that…ever.”
He quirks a brow, eyes pinned to her ass. He slaps her left cheek quickly, a sting that fades to pleasure. “I promise you, Granger, when I fuck you in your pretty little ass, you’re gonna come so hard you’ll beg for it over and over again.”
She’s panting, feeling flushed and wholly affected by his words and the memory of his lips on her skin, tasting her. “Big talk coming from a guy who has yet to make me come.”
His fingers slip under the waistband of her thong, and he peels the material off her. His movements are slow, painfully meticulous as he drags the scrap of lace down her thighs. Once freed, Hermione moves to roll over, but Draco stops her with a hand on the back of her thigh.
“Kneel for me.”
Hermione listens and grips onto the headboard, assuming she’s going to sit on his face.
Instead, Draco kneels behind her, hands back on her cheeks. “I want my nose buried in your perfect, round ass when I eat your pretty little pussy.”
She gasps as Draco leans in at last, dragging his tongue through her folds. He uses his thumbs to part her pussy and fucks her with his tongue, dipping into her core.
Hermione moans loudly, thrusting her hips back against his face. Draco groans against her, lapping at her messily and noisily. He slurps against her hole, devouring her.
Pleasure skates over her, making her feel weak and desperate. When his tongue finds her clit she screams out, her legs shaking and fingers digging into the wooden headboard.
He drags his tongue against her clit, moving back to her center. He dips his tongue inside her and she keens, angling her hips, searching for more. He wraps an arm around her front, securing her against him and using his fingers to toy at her clit. She’s so freaking close that a sob breaks out of her.
Draco drags his tongue from her hole upward as his fingers work to create perfect bliss on her clit. Hermione gasps as Draco dips his tongue into the tight pucker between her cheeks.
She screams, not expecting the delicious euphoria that explodes in her veins. Her eyes pinch closed as she shatters, her cunt pulsing, squeezing around nothing, feeling torturously empty and needy.
“Oh god. Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Hermione collapses onto the bed, feeling exhausted and flushed and also completely embarrassed. She can’t even look at Draco now that she came harder than ever after having his tongue in her ass during their first time.
Draco plants a kiss directly on her ass cheek, then her lower back, her shoulder, and the crook of her neck. His hands continue to rove over her body, sliding over her hip and up her ribs, curling around to grab her breast. His body is pressed against hers, his length rock hard and straining under his briefs.
“You taste fucking incredible,” he says into her ear, his voice deepened by lust. “I cannot wait to fuck you in your tight little ass.” His hips thrust against her backside, and she squirms against him.
“Seriously?” she asks over her shoulder, her voice barely squeaking out.
“Seriously. That was so fucking hot.” He nibbles on her ear, the evidence of his lust digging into her hip.
She rolls over finally, her legs spread with Draco in between them. Reaching up to cup the back of his neck, she pulls him down and kisses him. He groans against her, his hips slotting between hers and rubbing against her dripping center.
She reaches a hand down between them, slipping under his boxers and gripping his hard length. His entire body shudders as she wraps her hand around him and slowly drags her palm over him from root to tip.
Hermione squeezes his dick, reveling in his undoing at her touch alone. He pulls back and looks ruined. It’s heady, intoxicating; his desperation for her.
Reaching out, she tugs at the waistband of his briefs until he sits back and pushes them down over his hips. His cock springs free and good god it’s as beautiful and sculpted as he is. Long and thick, the head red and angry, needy for her. She swears she can nearly see his pulse in the throbbing vein running along him and her mouth waters, a need to run her tongue along the vein overcoming her.
As much as she wants to bring him to his knees with her mouth, she’s more eager to have him fuck her. She doesn’t stop him as he notches the head at her entrance. She nods eagerly when he looks up at her, waiting for enthusiastic consent that she’s all too happy to give him.
Her palms find his biceps, nails digging into the flesh as he pushes inside her.
It’s heaven and hell, bliss and pain, pleasure and rapture all rolled into one. Her mouth opens on a silent scream as she takes him entirely. He’s panting by the time he’s finally seated to the root in her, while she’s left breathless.
Slowly, he pulls back, dragging his cock along her walls so she can feel every ridge and inch of him.
“Oh god,” she cries, her eyes pinched shut yet never wanting this to end. “Fuck me,” she begs. Anything to end the torture, the devastating drag of him all but killing her. “Please, please fuck me.”
His eyes are nearly black, pupils blown wide, obscuring the stunning, stormy grey she’s been drawn to. In one hard thrust, he slams into her to the hilt. She bears down on him as she screams, her nails creating crescent-shaped tattoos on his arms.
Changing the angle, he grips her thighs, lifting her slightly so her ass is all but resting on his lap as he pounds into her.
She’s lost to her desire, a symphony of pleasure passing between them, a kaleidoscope of color clouding her vision.
His hands feel like they’re everywhere, holding her, stroking her; his touch ignites her, a spark of pleasure at the tip of each of his fingers.
“Come for me, Hermione. Come all over my cock. I need to feel you.”
She bears down on him, her cunt squeezing him as he fucks her hard and fast. She feels the build, the delicious static coursing through her, making her mindless. Incoherencies spill from her lips intermingled with his name she can’t stop screaming.
His magical fingers dance against her clit, working her toward euphoria even as his thrusts grow erratic. He angles his hips, somehow hitting her deeper, the head of his cock hitting her g-spot deliciously with every hard thrust.
The dam cracks, a sob filling the air as she’s overtaken, her orgasm hitting her like a tsunami, pulling her under, wave after wave devastating her. She doesn’t think she’ll ever recover from this.
He fucks her through it, even as she’s blinded by pleasure but when she comes to, he’s still there. His thrusts are slow and shallow, his jaw clenched like it’s taking all his focus not to fill her up with his spend.
He pulls out of her, even though it looks like it pains him. “Flip over,” he demands through gritted teeth.
She bites her lip and even though her limbs are like jelly, she turns over to kneel on her hands and knees. When she looks back at Draco, he’s staring at her apex, his eyes pinned to her pussy, still wet and messy from her own release.
Draco’s palms find her ass cheeks once more, gripping and spreading them. “Fuck. I’ll never get enough of this ass,” he tells her. “I wanted this from the minute you walked into that finance class with your skin-tight jeans on that first day.” His palms rub over her lightly, soothing her, as Hermione looks over her shoulder to watch him. He stares down at her like a man starved.
He lines them up once more, his wide head notched at her entrance. Hermione’s back arches as he impales her, his length sliding into her tightly.
“God damn,” Draco groans, his fingers squeezing her ass, surely leaving his mark behind on her skin. Bruises the size of fingers sure to dot her pale flesh like a map of their tryst for days to come.
He lifts one foot on the bed for leverage and then he fucks her, hard and fast, a man unhinged. Hermione cries out, the pleasure mind-numbing. The hard snap of his hips against hers is loud and erotic paired with Hermione’s uninhibited moans.
Draco’s hips stutter, thrusts faltering on a loud groan and quickly, he pulls out. His warm, wet cum lands on her backside as he groans out one final, “Fuuuuck.”
She tries not to move, even as Draco pants behind her, even as his palm grips her hip for support, and even when he drags his finger through his spend like he’s using her ass as a canvas, painting her with his cum.
When he gathers his bearings, he rubs lightly against her hip and moves off the bed. “Be right back,” he tells her before dashing into the bathroom and coming back with a towel.
When the terrycloth touches her skin, it’s warm and damp, and he wipes his mess off of her before gently moving between her legs, cleaning her there.
It’s all so painfully intimate and thoughtful that it confuses her. Clearly this is a one night stand, no? She assumed he’d finish, she’d get dressed and then do a walk of shame home. She certainly didn’t expect that level of tenderness from him.
When Draco pulls away, Hermione clears her throat and shifts awkwardly to climb off the bed. She faces him, feeling more naked now than ever, despite the fact that the man in front of her literally had his tongue in her ass tonight.
“Well, thanks. That was fun.” She crosses her arms over her chest and angles her legs uncomfortably to cover her pussy.
He raises his brows. “Fun?” He sits down on the edge of the bed, fully unbothered in his nakedness.
She nods. “Good game, or something.” Are they still continuing with the sports metaphors?
Draco snorts and lies back on his bed, one arm propped behind his head. He pats the space beside her. “Get your ass back in bed, Granger.”
“I should go…”
He sits up and reaches toward her, offering his hand. She stares down at it, unsure what it means. “It won’t bite. It might smack your ass a few more times, but that’s it.” He’s grinning at her, all cool and casual.
Hesitantly, she places one hand in his and he tugs her, hard. She nearly faceplants on the mattress as Draco laughs beside her.
He tucks her effortlessly back against his chest, his arm wrapped around her midsection. Lips press a kiss into her shoulder before he relaxes back against the pillow.
Her mind is racing.
“Granger.” Draco sighs. “What’s wrong?”
“I just…didn’t expect to stay…after…”
He squeezes her hip. “You think now that I got you in my bed I’m going to let you out of it?” he asks, his voice husky and alluring in her ear.
She half rolls over so she’s on her back and looks up at him. His eyes are dark, possessive where they rove over her naked body. “I just don’t normally…do this. I don’t know the protocol.”
“Not everything needs rules and regulations, Granger. We can have sex, and then I can fuck you again in the morning before I take you out to breakfast. I can walk you home and let you get ready before I take you to dinner tomorrow night.”
Her eyes widen. “For someone very go with the flow you seem to have it all planned out.”
“I’ve been thinking about this for a while,” he admits.
“You’ve been thinking about…me?”
“Your ass, mostly,” he grins at her, and she shoves him playfully.
“Give me a shot, Granger.”
When he looks at her like that, hope and lust brimming in his gaze, like one word could either shatter him or hang the moon and the stars, how can she say no?
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
She nods. “You get one day. I’ll give you tomorrow. You better impress me, Malfoy.”
“Oh I will. I told you, Granger. You can count on me.”