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“You are the most jealous man I know,” Hermione huffed as she felt Draco’s hands settle on her waist. He looked down at her with a stoic expression.
“You know other men?” He deadpanned to her. She rolled her eyes as her hands traveled up his chest to cradle his broad shoulders, resigned to her fate.
They’d snogged once weeks ago at Theo’s birthday party after too many firewhiskeys, and now Draco infiltrated every chance another man had to interact with her. Michael Corner asked her to a Quidditch match a week ago, and Draco had promptly interrupted and said he needed her opinion on something and stared at Michael until he’d awkwardly taken his leave. He hadn’t returned, evidently scared off by Draco’s glare. Justin Finch-Fletchley smiled at her, and Draco moved his desk in between his and Hermione’s. He’d done it again now by shouldering Ernie MacMillan out of the way when he’d asked her for a dance.
It was Hannah and Neville’s wedding day. Strangely, Draco and Neville had become quite close in recent years, being that Neville grew the plants necessary for Draco’s hobby in potioneering. It secured him a place as one of Neville’s groomsmen, alongside Hermione as Hannah’s bridesmaid.
“You know,” she brushed her thumb gently over Draco’s shoulder, remembering how hard his body felt against her own the night at Theo’s, how steadily he walked with her down the aisle only hours before. “You could just ask me on a date instead of running off every man that looks at me.”
The corner of Draco’s mouth twitched. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”
She rolled her eyes again. “Ignorance doesn’t suit you.”
“Nor you,” Draco replied, his large hands squeezing her waist. “You could ask me yourself.”
“Isn’t there something in your book of Pureblood customs that strictly forbids the woman from asking the man?” She clipped back. He huffed a laugh, gazing down at her with heat in his eyes.
“I’m sure there’s also something against sweeping a bridesmaid away from a wedding to ravish her,” he leaned down. “And yet that’s what I’m about to do.”
A shiver ran up her spine at his brazenness. If he were anyone else, Hermione would have hexed his mouth shut, but she found herself accompanying him with bated breath as he walked off of the dance floor with his hand gripping hers possessively.
Clearly, Hermione thought, he’d already scoped out a place to ‘ravish’ her, as he walked with purpose until they came upon a secluded hallway and he stopped abruptly and moved to face her.
“A wicked thing to do, defiling Augusta Longbottom’s dark crevices,” she muttered. Draco’s face twisted.
“I’ve changed my mind. That string of words has put me out of the mood, perhaps for eternity,” he drawled. Hermione huffed impatiently.
“Are you going to ravish me or not?” She challenged. At that, he smirked and leaned down, cupping her face possessively and pressing his lips to hers fervently. She parted easily under his tongue, feeling as though it was the first breath she’d taken since the last he’d touched her. He must have sensed her neediness, as she felt his hands travel downward, palming softly over the sides of her breasts before pausing to grip the sides of her waist.
Hermione gasped softly as Draco disengaged their kiss and directed his attention to her neck, working his lips and teeth over a spot he’d discovered was sensitive the previous time. She moaned out loud. At the noise, Draco pulled away with a dark look. “You’d better be quiet, Granger, or I’ll have to do something about it,” he told her.
“Like what, silence me?” She asked defiantly, pressing her thighs together at the thought. He smirked, removing his hand from her waist to loosen his tie.
“Open up,” Draco told her as it came off of his neck. Hermione felt shivers up her spine as she realized his intention.
“You’re not going to—“ as she spoke, he unceremoniously stuffed the fabric in her mouth. His expression broke out into a near maniacal grin as her eyes widened and she made no move to remove the tie that muffled her. She watched in heated interest as he dropped to his knees in front of her.
“Lovely dress, Granger,” he murmured as she felt his hands slide under the modest garment and up her thighs. “You think I would fit under it?”
She hmphed around the fabric in her mouth but made no move to wriggle away as his head disappeared underneath her dress. She felt him hike her leg over his shoulder and her head fell back against the wall as she felt the gentle brush of his fingertips against her bare center.
“No knickers, Granger?” He asked, a rasp to his voice.
“Panty lines,” she mumbled around his tie.
He chuckled, each breath he took littering shivers over her skin. She felt him press deeper between her folds, steadily thrumming his thumb over her clit. Her hands flattened on the wall behind her and she inhaled sharply as his mouth replaced his wandering fingers. Gods, he was ridiculously talented — it would be much easier to write him off as a one-night stand if he wasn’t so good, she thought as she squirmed above him, her noises muffled. She longed to grip his hair, touch some part of him to ground herself as he set to ruining every other time someone else had put their mouth on her.
Hermione jolted as two of his fingers slid into her with practiced ease. Draco didn’t let up on his ministrations, the combination of his tongue and fingers bringing her steadily to climax. She found she couldn’t help but thrust her hips and gasp around his tie. As she crested, Hermione was sure she felt him smirk against her.
Draco chuckled darkly as he removed himself from under her dress and looked up with glittering grey eyes. His lips shined with her arousal as he stood, taking his tie out of her mouth and kissing her deeply, forcing her to taste herself on his tongue.
“I’m not done with you,” he said against her lips as he felt her correct her dress only for him to promptly undo her progress in making herself look presentable. Hermione pulled away, letting out a shocked yelp and he swept her up and urged her legs around his hips, hiking her dress up. She could feel his covered erection against her bare center, the hardness of his desire ripping a moan from her throat.
“Draco,” she panted, whether she was begging or protesting she wasn’t sure. She heard the telltale unbuckling of his belt as he kept her pinned between himself and the wall.
“Granger?” He responded, his eyes half-lidded as his bare cock brushed against her inner thighs. Hermione whimpered at the sensation of his warm skin sliding against hers, his hands gripping under her arse to hold her up.
“Fuck me,” she finally ground out, eliciting a glint from Draco’s eyes as he reached between them to line himself up and push into her in one swift motion. Hermione flung her head back, gasping as he filled her so entirely, vaguely aware of his own head dropping into the junction between her neck and shoulder. She desperately wished he had less clothing on, she thought as she clawed at his back through his suit. She wanted to mark him, leave a reminder for him to look at later and remember how he made her fall apart.
“You’re so tight,” Draco growled into her skin as he withdrew to his tip and slammed back into her. The bite of his nails digging into her arse grounded her against the force of his hips. She gasped as he carved a space for himself, bringing his thrusting to a steady pace and practically fucking her into the wall.
“You’re just big,” she snapped back, whimpering softly as he nipped at her neck. In such a position, he sunk so deeply into her that Hermione’s eyes nearly crossed with each slam of his hips. His pelvis rubbed so delicious against her clit that she knew she wouldn’t last long. As if reading her mind, one of his hands traveled between them and pressed tight circles on her.
“Come on my cock,” he murmured, capturing her lips in a kiss that she could hardly focus on as she reached her peak at the mercy of his cock and fingers. Sensing her release, Draco fucked her desperately through it. Her head fell against his shoulder as he used her body to chase his own end. After only a few moments, his rhythm became sporadic.
Draco pressed as deeply inside her as he could as he came, emptying for what seemed like minutes as he held her against him. They both were heaving with the effort it took to catch their breaths.
After a few moments, Hermione felt him gingerly brush a curl behind her ear and she looked up at him. His own steely gaze contained reverence; the corner of his mouth turned up in a slight smile. She winced as he pulled himself out of her and steadied her on her feet, her legs shaking slightly, evidence of what they’d done sliding down her thighs and causing her face to flush.
“Granger?” Draco asked softly.
Hermione met his gaze. “Yes?”
“Would you like to go to dinner with me?”