Chapter Text
Little, blonde eyelashes lay gently on tiny, pink cheeks. Baby Lyra Granger-Malfoy finally falls asleep in her crib, much to Hermione’s delight. She hasn’t gotten her daughter down so early in the evening in days . She’s still just a newborn; barely a month old. She doesn’t like sleeping anywhere other than her dada or mama’s arms.
Draco’s been in the study, working on moving money around for his company. Hermione closes Lyra’s door, as quietly as possible, making sure the monitoring charms are correctly in place, before prancing down the hall to her husband.
“Draco!” she whisper-shouts. “Lyra’s asleep.” She stands in the doorway of the room.
Draco’s at his desk, scrawling away on some parchment. He looks up at her, a small smile on his lips. “Good job, Darling. I’m nearly finished, if you want me to read to you.”
Hermione leans against the door frame, gathering her nerves up and trapping them away. “I was… Well, I was hoping a different… activity might be more enticing?”
Draco tilts his head disapprovingly, his lips pressed together tightly. She sighs out her nose, feeling rejection creep in once again.
During her pregnancy, her husband couldn’t keep his hands off of her. The healers told them sex is good preparation for childbirth; orgasms are great pain relief and the stretch penetration causes is good for preventing tearing. Not to mention, Hermione was so randy during her pregnancy, she could hardly go a day without Draco bringing her to orgasm two, three times, at least . One in the morning, sometimes one in the bath, a few at night. And he loved doing it.
Then, she gave birth. Lyra was born totally healthy and perfect, but the process must have given Draco a fright because he spent a week barely even touching Hermione. He was entirely too careful with her; barely kissing her besides brushes of lips, hovering over her whenever she walked anywhere around the house… he wouldn’t even cuddle her properly.
She told him, after that first week, that she is not made of glass; that he can touch her and treat her exactly as he did before she birthed their baby. ‘If anything, watching me give birth should’ve made you realize how strong I am, not make you scared to handle me,’ she said to him.
So, he began slowly going back to normal. He’s never rough with her, by any means, but he lets her do things on her own and kisses her with the correct amount of passion. He hugs her tightly again and cuddles with her in bed. The one thing he won’t do is fuck her.
They’re supposed to wait six weeks after childbirth to have sex. It’s understandable, Hermione supposes, with the tearing and damage possible, but she read in many books that couples often only wait three or four. She shows Draco these quotes, but he doesn’t budge. ‘I saw what happened during birth, Hermione. I’m scared I’ll hurt you,’ he told her.
He made her come with his tongue on her clit that day, instead. It’s wonderful, yes, but she misses the connection that comes with actual sex. She misses the stretch, the fullness , that comes with it. Really, Hermione misses her husband’s cock.
What’s even worse is he won’t let her get him off at all. She’s offered many times - after he brings her over the edge with his mouth or knee or hand - to suck him, stroke him, anything to make him come, too. He only tells her not to worry about him; that her pleasure is his pleasure and he doesn’t want her to go through he trouble.
As stupid as it is, Hermione begins to worry he just isn’t interested in sex anymore. Their entire relationship started with lust, the day they took the lust potions, and now that he isn’t showing any signs of lusting for her, she feels extremely disconnected.
Then, she remembers his pleasured sounds as he tastes her, his whispered praise as she comes from grinding on his knee. He does enjoy those things… so, why is he not interested in finishing himself ?
Draco clicks his tongue, startling Hermione out of her thoughts. “Baby, you know we shouldn’t.”
His words cut through her chest like tiny knives. “It’s been five and a half weeks, Draco. That’s basically six.”
He sighs, heavy and loud, before standing up and making his way around the desk. “ Basically is not good enough. I won’t risk hurting my wife.”
Her head tilts further and further back as he nears closer, neck stretching to continue looking at him. His height is a real burden, sometimes. She swallows, trying to hide her disappointment. She wants to argue; she’s had no pain for weeks now. She’s completely healed.
Hermione looks down, fiddling with her hands by her waist. “Reading sounds fine,” she murmurs.
Draco takes a deep breath, his hand coming to cup her chin and lift it, forcing her to look at him again. “Hermione,” he breathes. “I can take care of you in other ways. Do you want my tongue? My hand?”
She averts her eyes, looking around the study instead of at him. “No, I’m fine.” Her voice is small, tense.
“Look at me,” her husband whispers, his hand moving to cradle her cheek. “I’m sorry. It’s only a few more days.”
Hermione feels exceptionally dumb , when he puts it like that. As if she’s some insatiable minx. She frowns, pulling her face out of his hand. “You’re right,” she snaps. “I’m far too needy. I’m sorry I can’t be as unfeeling as you .”
She turns to walk away, but Draco grabs her waist, pulling her back to his chest. “Woah, woah, woah,” he says, gently, his voice quiet. “ As unfeeling as me ?” he repeats, nuzzling into the curve of her neck.
“You haven’t gotten off once and you’ve been perfectly fine! You- You make me seem like some sort of crazed sex freak or something.” She turns her head, nudging him away from her, but he’s much too solid for her to budge.
“ Hermione, ” he sighs, pulling her closer, stilling her with his grip. He looks down at her, eyebrows creased. “I’ve gotten off every night to the thought of you. I just do it myself, so that I don’t bother you with my needs.” His thumbs rub the muscles of her lower back, making her melt into his arms. “Do you think avoiding sex with you is easy for me?”
She chews on the inside of her cheek, thoroughly confused. “But you… You never let me do anything. I thought you just didn’t want to.”
“ Didn’t want to?” he repeats, tone entirely disbelieving. “Do you hear yourself, Wife?” Draco lets out an incredulous laugh. “That’s the most absurd thing I think I’ve ever heard. Didn’t want to? Merlin…”
Hermione wiggles free from his arms, huffing at his rambling. “What else was I to think?” She wraps her sweater further around her torso, crossing her arms. “My… My body has changed from pregnancy, my hormones are all over the place, Lyra won’t sleep and is always hungry. I- I’m a mess. It would make sense if you didn’t want me that way right now.”
Draco sighs, tilting his head, his eyebrows creased in concern. “ No , baby. It would make zero sense.” He walks towards her, backing her up out of his office and into the hallway. “You’re perfect. Absolutely beautiful. Even more so than before you had our baby. Of course, I want you. There will never be a time I don’t.”
The more he speaks, the dumber she feels. His words feel too nice for her to dwell on her stupidity for long, though. She feels her worries melting away as she stops in her tracks, letting him approach her. His hands push her hair back from her face. They cradle either side of her neck, his thumbs stroking her jawline, tilting her head up to look at him.
“Why don’t we do something different tonight?” he asks. “I can show you exactly how much I want you. Need you.”
Hermione smiles a small smile, her eyes searching his. She nods. “I think I’d like that.”
–
Hermione’s laid out on their bed, completely bare, her clothes discarded in the corner of their room.
Draco’s standing at the foot of the bed, eyes hungrily roving over her figure as he pulls off his clothes. She flushes red; she hasn’t been feeling particularly sexy lately. She feels entirely exposed, but judging by how dark her husband’s eyes are, she thinks she should feel sexy.
“I’m sorry you thought I was unfeeling,” he tells her as he crawls over her, now also completely naked, his warm skin brushing against hers softly. He kisses her deeply, delving his tongue into her mouth, nipping at her bottom lip. She feels his hard cock rest heavily on her thigh and nearly moans at the feeling. When he pulls away, he continues, “I think I’ve been holding onto too many of the Pureblood practices. You know, ‘ sex is only for reproduction’, that sort of thing.”
Hermione’s too turned on to comprehend what he means. He moves to kiss her neck, the hand not holding him up palming her breast gently. “ Sex is only for … What?”
He groans quietly at the feel of her against her skin, his teeth grazing her collarbone. “I… I just sometimes forget that sex is meant to be fun. It’s meant for us to connect. It’s not just a… a marital duty. ”
Her hands trail up his sides and she folds them around the back of his neck, pulling him further into her. His torso feels heavenly against hers; it’s been far too long since she’s felt him skin-to-skin like this.
He thrusts against her thigh and she feels the wet smear of his pre-cum against her hip. He sighs, bringing his lips back to hers to kiss her gently. “I’m already close,” he whispers against her lips. “Haven’t had you completely naked against me in weeks. I think the sight of you alone could make me come.” His hand leaves her breast and travels down her side to her knee, hitching one of her legs up around his hip.
She’s panting, their heavy breathing mingling together, as their lips brush. His hand finds her center slippery with arousal. He’s still too gentle, the tip of his middle finger swirling her slick through her folds, up to her clit. She whines, her head rolling back.
“Still think I don’t want you?” he asks her. “Touch me. Feel how hard I am for you.”
It takes some effort, but she manages to get her hand between them once he lifts his body to hover further above hers. She wraps her fingers around his length, his cock hot and heavy in her hand. His breathing hitches, a groan getting stuck in his throat.
His finger begins rubbing circles over her clit, making her moan and writhe underneath him. “Good?” he asks.
Hermione nods, her wide eyes finding his. Their noses bump together. “Yes,” she breathes.
“Stroke me. I’ll come so fast for you, Hermione. All over your stomach. Do you want that?”
She swallows, the thought making her pleasure even more intense. “ Gods, yes. Please.”
Her hand works him up and down, squeezing the tip of him, her thumb sliding through the pre-cum there. He groans, burying his face in her neck. His finger moves faster over her clit.
She’s surprised by how quickly her pleasure mounts; usually it takes a while for her to orgasm by external stimulation only. Perhaps it’s his words making it more intense. Or his skin against hers, the feeling of his cock in her hand, his noises in her ears. Probably all of the above.
Her moans are nonstop, his groans becoming more frequent as well. Her hand speeds up, stroking him quicker, the tip of him rubbing against her hip deliciously.
“So good, baby,” he forces out, raising his head to kiss her on the lips again. “Feels so good.” His breathing is so labored, she feels a spike of pride for making him lose his composure with only her hand.
Her hips roll under his hand; she bucks against him, trying to create more friction. He adds two more fingers, rubbing her faster, but still gentle enough so that it doesn’t hurt her. Her eyes squeeze shut, her head thrown back. “ Draco ,” she moans.
“Mmm,” he hums, bucking against her hip as well. “Are you close, darling?”
She nods, squirming under him. “Are… you?”
Draco chuckles, the laugh getting cut off by a loud groan as she squeezes his tip. “Yes. I’ve been… embarrassingly close this entire time.”
She breathes a laugh, her smile disappearing as she moans again, her lips parted. The pleasure builds and builds until she’s sure she can’t take any more; the bundle of nerves under his fingers is so sensitive. Her hips don’t stop moving, her back arches off of the mattress, her torso pressed tightly against his.
“I’m gonna…”
Her hand continues, even as she feels her orgasm surge.
“Me, too, baby,” he responds, his hips moving over her just as quickly as hers are.
Her entire body tenses, her eyesight goes black, and her thoughts float away as she falls over the edge. Her pleasure is so intense, she can’t think of anything but the waves crashing over her. It goes on and on, her husband circling her clit gently to draw it out until she collapses on the bed, her hips rolling slightly through the last of the pleasure.
Hermione hears Draco’s moans, his whimpers, as her hand continues milking him against her hip. She feels his cum hit her stomach, just as he promised, spurt after spurt covering her skin. He thrusts against her when her hand gets tired, drawing out the last of his pleasure. His breathing is heavy and he whines as the last of his cum is emptied from him. He’s careful not to crush her as he lays down, his softening cock still in Hermione’s palm.
They take a few minutes to catch their breath, pressed against each other as closely as they can be. Hermione nearly dozes off, her body so spent and mind so calm. She’s woken up by a kiss from her husband, gentle and loving on her lips.
She opens her eyes to see him hovering over her once more, eyes adoring on hers.
“How are you?” he asks, nudging her nose with his.
“Mmm,” she hums, smiling. “So good.”
He smiles right back, kissing her again. “Good. Let’s get you washed up, hm?”
Before she knows it, she’s in his arms, being carried effortlessly into their bathroom. The bath is charmed to fill with warm, bubbly water, and she feels his magic settle on her stomach, probably cleaning his spend off of her skin. She very nearly pouts; she liked it.
He sets her in the large bath before settling in behind her, helping her lean her back against his chest.
“You’re so beautiful, Hermione,” he tells her, his hands running down her sides, over her stomach and thighs.
She smiles, beaming. She can’t believe she ever thought her husband wasn’t interested in her; he’s so obviously in love, it makes her want to cry. “Thank you.”
“I’m sorry I ever made you believe I thought differently.” He sounds sad now. His voice is rough, quiet.
“It isn’t your fault. I’m hormonal, remember?”
Draco breathes a laugh behind her. “Yes. You have every right to be, creating Lyra the way you did. Birthing her. She’s perfect. You’re perfect.”
Hermione sighs, relaxing into her husband, the bath water calming her wonderfully. “I love you.”
“I love you more, Wife.”