Roses are red

Violets are blue

I don't own Harry Potter

This is sad, but true

This was written for my dear friend, Mrs. Ren after she had an interesting (read: embarrassing af) encounter with a guy she used to tutor at high school. For the full original story, please contact her :p.

Thanks go to Mrs. Ren, obviously, for giving me the idea, and supporting me throughout the writing process, as well as beta-ing! Also, to AlexandraO who gave me the title - thank you wonderful lady! :D

Hope you enjoy xx

Hermione Granger was not one for going out in public looking less than respectable. She would not classify herself as a snob, nor did she require two hours to prepare her face; there just wasn't anything wrong with taking pride in one's appearance.

Being a Healer at Saint Mungo's, however, meant long shifts - often doubles - which left her feeling barely lucid. That was why, one seemingly boring Friday night, Hermione stumbled into the convenience store down the road from her apartment in her pyjama pants and a faded old t-shirt Ron had lent her when they were back in Hogwarts. She had shoved her feet into slippers; they had been a Christmas gift from Molly and Arthur, and were shaped like fluffy bear paws.

The plan was to restock her supply of crisps, which had run appallingly low with her working odd hours and lacking time to do a proper grocery shop. The plan was definitely not to run into someone she knew - or at least, had known...once.

"Granger?" A familiar voice came from behind her as she attempted to capture a packet of salt and vinegar between two fingers, her arms laden down with several other varieties of crisps. "How are you?"

Hermione twirled and stumbled gracelessly, her hair falling from the high ponytail she had pulled it into before leaving home so it danced in her face. She blew at it forcefully and focused her gaze on the figure in front of her. Just as the same stubborn curl settled back over her eye, she caught a flash of platinum blond hair and an obscenely white smile.

"Ummm...good? How are you?" She replied.

In a movement that could only be likened to that of a newborn foal, Hermione flicked her head to remove the intruding lock of hair. By the time it had settled and she was able to see clearly again, the grinning blond had disappeared, leaving only the ringing of soft laughter echoing in her ears. Hermione shrugged, her addled brain content to ignore the niggling feeling of familiarity as she continued her shopping.

At the checkout, she stood in line, her senses half inside the shop and the other half already making themselves comfortable on her couch. She was planning on reading the new tome she had purchased from Flourish and Blotts until she fell asleep; she glanced down at the conveyor belt as it moved along, with her groceries now next in line.

Is two jars of salsa enough? She frowned, glancing over her shoulder. There wasn't really time to run and get more…

She turned back to greet the girl behind the cash register...and caught the flash of platinum blond hair as the man it belonged to wheeled his trolley behind her. He met her gaze and grinned; Hermione felt her cheeks heat as he turned his trolley to slide behind her in line.

"We meet again," he drawled, beginning to pile his groceries behind hers. A hot prickling feeling crept along her arms as she noted what he was buying; fruits and vegetables, steak and chicken, some protein bars...She looked back at her mountain of junk food as the girl was shoving it into shopping bags.

Fuck.

"Malfoy?" She squeaked.

"So you do recognise me," he chuckled as he set a pint of milk on the conveyor belt and then stood straight.

"Y-you look...different."

Malfoy arched an eyebrow and leaned forward on the handle of his trolley. "How so?"

If it hadn't been for the platinum hair and grey eyes, Hermione wouldn't have recognised him. In school he had been scrawny, a little on the short side with lengthy limbs and a sunken chest. His face had been pointed, giving him the appearance of a rat.

But now...he had shot up considerably, standing almost a foot taller than she did, with broad shoulders and well defined muscles. He was wearing a white button down shirt, the top two buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up to his elbow. His forearms were covered in tattoos, and Hermione briefly wondered if he had them done to cover the Dark Mark.

At that, she brought her attention back to his face; he was smiling, his perfect white, straight teeth on display, his eyes twinkling as he took in the deepening colour of her cheeks.

Crap, she thought, why didn't I at least brush my hair? Ugh - why do I care? It's Malfoy!

"You just do," she sniffed delicately.

"That'll be twelve pounds, please." The voice of the check out girl had never been so welcome. Hermione turned to her with a tight smile and counted out the cash.

"Thank you." She acknowledge her, but she had already started packing Malfoy's things...and with much more enthusiasm, Hermione noted with a scowl. "Lovely to see you again, Malfoy."

"Likewise, Granger." Malfoy grinned again, his grey eyes boring into hers as if trying to convey a silent message.

It took a fair amount of willpower to drag her gaze from him, and turn back to the door...only, Hermione hadn't realised that she had been walking away the entire time and was already at the door...her face met the glass first, and she rebounded from the cool barrier. Her bags of snacks dropped from her hands as she scrambled to stay upright, and ultimately failed, landing with an "oof!" on the tiled floor.

She could not remember a time she had felt more embarrassed.

Gingerly, she turned back to see if Malfoy had been witness...he had. He was moving swiftly towards her, concern in his eyes but a knowing smile on his lips. The checkout girl looked as if Christmas had come early, and was unsuccessfully trying to hide her giggles behind her hand.

"Alright there?" Malfoy asked as he reached her. He stretched out his hand and Hermione hesitated to take it. With a half-hearted roll of her eyes she lifted her hand into his and allowed him to pull her to his feet.

"Thank you," she whispered, refusing to meet his gaze.

"You're welcome." He replied.

Hermione waited for him to walk away, but he remained in front of her.

"It's good to see you haven't changed." Hermione could hear the mirth in his tone and she wished the floor would open up and swallow her whole. "Do you remember the time you got your hair caught in the zip on your bag at Hogwarts?"

Hermione's head snapped up to glare at him; his expression was triumphant and she instantly regretted rising to his bait. After all these years, he still knew which buttons to press.

"Yes," she snapped. "Though I've done my best to forget it."

His grin did not falter as she continued to frown up at him. He was still as arrogant as ever, apparently...he had always enjoyed riling her up when they were younger. She wouldn't have considered them friends, by any stretch of the imagination.

They had met when they were eleven, on the train heading to Hogwarts, but while he had been civil enough on the journey, Draco had quickly turned cruel after they were sorted into different houses; Hermione, into Gryffindor, and Draco, into Slytherin. It wasn't until fourth year, when Hermione had attended the Yule Ball with Viktor Krum that their relationship distorted.

He was a spoiled pureblood from Wiltshire, whose parents did nothing but inherit money and own land. Hermione remembered him boasting about his latest packages from home during meal times. She thought of him as an annoying insect in the middle of summer, but when he had found her on the stairs crying after she had been left by her date for Pansy Parkinson, of all people...even now Hermione couldn't help the sinking feeling of being second best from settling in her gut.

Draco had been kind to her, and they had forged a tentative friendship, though perhaps that was too strong a word. They hadn't really been friends; he hung out with the Slytherins at meals and during breaks, and on the weekends; she stuck with her Gryffindors.

But they said hello when they passed each other in corridors, and often he would ask her how she was when they met in the library. And then, in their sixth year, he simply ignored her; of course, she knew now that it was because he had been forced to join the Death Eaters, and was busy working on fixing the vanishing cabinet.

When they both returned for their eighth year, he had apologised to her for his role in the war, and then resumed his acknowledgment of her as they passed in corridors. It went no further until the end of that year, just before exam time. Draco had approached Hermione with a sheepish smile between classes and asked whether she would be willing to tutor him in Potions

She had accepted, albeit warily; as far as she had known, he was getting top marks in the subject. The Potions master, Snape, had certainly seemed fond of the blond in the past, and their current teacher, Slughorn, certainly enjoyed praising the young Malfoy during demonstrations.

They began to meet twice a week in the library. It did not take long for Draco to wrap his head around the exam material, and Hermione was pleased; she had considered a career in teaching and it was nice to think she had a knack for it. But then he had asked her to tutor him in Arithmancy. And then Charms…

He was a model student, and Hermione hadn't minded. At graduation she had caught his eye and smiled, and he had come over to thank her for all her help. She thought he was about to say something else, but then his friends arrived to whisk him away...that had been the last time she had seen him.

"Granger?" All traces of his smile were now gone and he was looking at her with concern. "Are you sure you're okay? Do you need an ice pack?"

"No!" She said, scrambling to collect her fallen shopping. The last thing she wanted was Draco Malfoy applying ice to her head; if he came any closer, she might do something really stupid, like swoon or kiss him. "I'm fine," she said quickly, blinking herself back into the present. "Sorry."

He shook his head. "I'm going to make sure you get home safely. Do you live nearby?"

Hermione felt herself nod. "Just down the street," she answered monotonously.

"Excellent, I'll walk you." With that he turned on his heel and made his way back to the check out, where he paid for his groceries and loaded them back in his trolley. Hermione watched, awkwardly unmoving, as he said goodbye to the checkout girl, who had readopted her sour expression, and wheel his way towards her. "After you."

Hermione moved robotically, marching towards the door - this time ensuring that it had opened before rushing forward - and exiting the shop. The cool night air was soothing on her cheeks, which were still tinged a bright red from the embarrassment she had endured.

"It's only a five minute walk," she rearranged her bags slightly. "Honestly, you don't have to - "

"I want to," he tilted his head to the side, a playful smile on his lips. "It's not every day you run in to your teenage crush."

Hermione choked on the inhale. Did he just say…?

He grinned as her cheeks glowed a magnificent magenta. "Come on, Granger," his voice was too seductive to be allowed, and Hermione felt her brain turn to mush. "Stop overthinking it and lead the way."

There was no time to argue, and Hermione was no longer sure if she wanted to; the way his back muscles rippled as he turned and began to walk in the direction of her apartment was positively sinful.

Get it together, she scolded herself. It's Malfoy for goodness sake, stop acting like a fool!

Hurrying to keep up with him, Hermione broke into a jog. They remained silent for the duration of the walk, though she did not mind. It gave her time to process what was happening...and what he had said.

Had he really had a crush on her at Hogwarts, or had that been a ploy to get her to agree with him walking her home? What was he doing in a convenience store on a Friday night? She had never even heard of him being in this part of London...last she'd heard, he was partying it up in France on his trust fund.

Ever hungry for knowledge, Hermione began to compile a mental list of questions for when they arrived at her apartment. At number ten, she stopped; it was presumptuous to think that he would stay long enough for her to ask anything; perhaps he was just being a good samaritan?

By the time they reached Hermione's apartment, she was practically sweating with apprehension. He smile, silently taking the shopping bags from her as she fumbled with her keys and struggled to fit the right one in the front door. Finally, it twisted in the lock and granted them access.

"Home, sweet home," she said meekly as she pushed the door open. Draco smiled at her in thanks as he entered in front of her, heading straight for the kitchen to begin sorting out her snacks.

Hermione followed quickly behind him. "I can do that," she said, moving to grab one of the shopping bags. He wrenched it out of her way before her fingers could close around the plastic handles.

"Go and sit down," he ordered. "I can manage…" he paused to count, "seven bags of chips?" He glanced up at her, a smirk on his lips.

Hermione felt her cheeks heat again and did as he said, grateful that she could put her back to him while the redness in her face subsided. She had to admit, it felt good to sit down. As she settled into the corner of her three-seater lounge, Hermione allowed her head to fall back against the soft material.

Her eyes fluttered shut, only to be startled open by a movement beside her. Draco had come to sit next to her, a bowl of corn chips in one hand and an opened jar of salsa in the other. He set the food on the coffee table in front of them and turned back to Hermione.

"Don't you have groceries?" She blurted out. A look of confusion flashed across his face, but he recovered quickly.

"Yes," he said, "I put them in your refrigerator; is that okay?"

"My fridge?" Hermione hadn't meant to sound so shocked, but the whole situation - running in to him again, having him walk her home, and then sort her snacks - had already set her on edge.

"I can go," he was suddenly unsure of himself. Hermione watched as he stiffened next to her and she instantly felt guilty.

"No!" She shook her head. "Sorry...I've just finished a twenty hour shift, and the day before that was eighteen…" she trailed off.

"You became a Healer." It was a statement, not a question.

Hermione nodded. Something flared briefly in Draco's eyes but before Hermione could interpret it, it had disappeared and he was settling back into her couch.

"What do you do?" She asked quietly, leaning forward to scoop a chip through the jar of salsa.

"I'm a Private Investigator for a Muggle company in France."

Hermione's eyebrows rose towards her hair line. "Really? Last I heard, you - " She snapped her mouth shut, cutting herself off mid-sentence.

"I, what?" He asked with a smirk, resting his arm on the back of her couch. Hermione's mouth went dry and for a moment she couldn't remember what they were talking about. "I was using my parent's money to get drunk and bed witches?"

Hermione choked at the brazenness of his statement. "W-well - " she stammered.

"It's okay," he shrugged. "It's true; I did spend a couple of years dicking around. I left here to try and forget Hogwarts, England…" he paused to lick his lips, a slow, sinful movement that forced Hermione's gaze to his mouth. "...and the people here."

"People?" She squeaked. Draco bit down on a smile as Hermione's cheeks pinked again. "I thought you were close with your fellow Slytherins," she continued, this time in a regular pitch. "Blaise, Theo, Pansy…" her mouth twisted around the last one; Pansy Parkinson was a vile creature who Hermione would be happy never to lay eyes on ever again.

Draco chuckled, relaxing further into the couch; Hermione thought he looked entirely too delicious with his left knee resting in the middle of the couch, his body facing her.

"They are my friends, but they aren't the ones I was avoiding."

"Then who - ?"

"You, you daft witch," he huffed. "I told you; I had the biggest crush on you in our last year…" he trailed off as a wistful look crossed his face.

"The tutoring," Hermione said slowly, "did you even need it?"

"No," he grinned. "I just wanted an excuse to sit next to you."

Hermione placed a hand over her chest. "You lied about needing help at school?"

Draco laughed, a deep rumbling sound that sent shivers up Hermione's spine. "Of course you're scandalised," he rolled his eyes, but there was only fondness in the grey irises as they focused on her again. "But you'll be pleased to know, I received all E's on my NEWTs, thanks to you."

Some part of her wanted to lecture him, but wisely she held her tongue. "I see," she said primly. "So Ron was right."

"Weasley?" Draco made a face. "Right about what?"

"He told me you were up to something," she smiled. "Though I think he assumed that you were trying to embarrass me, not get closer to me." Draco smirked but did not respond. Hermione leaned forward subconsciously, her gaze slipping from his stormy eyes to his lips and then back up again. "Why didn't you just tell me?"

He shrugged, averting his gaze to his knee. "I don't know," he said. "I didn't think you'd agree to going out with me. Trust me when I say that it took all of my courage to ask you to tutor me. I did mean to ask you out, but…"

"What about now?" The question was out of her mouth before Hermione even realised she intended to ask it.

His eyes widened as Draco brought his gaze back to her face, his expression softening as he took in her petrified look.

"Running into you tonight wasn't an accident," he breathed.

"You had me followed?" Hermione's head spun, and her stomach felt like it was filled with a kaleidoscope of dancing butterflies.

"Private investigator," he pointed to himself, a cocky smile on his face. "I followed you."

Hermione wasn't sure whether she wanted to laugh or smack him. Draco seemed to realise that the moment had the potential to spell disaster for him, and quickly began talking again.

"I mean, not in a creepy way. I didn't go asking around for you or anything; the Prophet gave me most of the information…" he trailed off at the look on Hermione's face and grinned sheepishly. "Okay, maybe it was a little bit creepy."

Hermione squirmed, still unsure of how she felt about this new development. On the one hand, he could have just sent her an owl; she would have responded. But then there was something slightly romantic about him tracking her down and creating his own moment of serendipity.

Making up her mind, she steeled her Gryffindor courage and shuffled forwards on the couch until she was halfway across it, her right knee touching Draco's left one.

He glanced down at her, leaning forward until his arm dropped from the back of the lounge to rest on her thigh. His palm was warm, heating the skin beneath her pyjama bottoms instantly; Hermione shivered in anticipation. She leaned further forward, until she could count his long, pale eyelashes as he blinked.

"Hermione," he swallowed thickly, his gaze resting on her parted lips. "I - "

"Shut up," she breathed. "Kiss me."

He obliged, closing the infinitesimal gap with a satisfied groan. His left hand came to rest at the back of her neck, locking her in place, while his right hand settled on her waist, effectively tugging her closer.

She moved her lips in time with his as they fell into an easy rhythm. Fireworks rained down behind her closed eyelids and she suddenly understood why people described first kisses as having the ability to take your breath away. Clinging to him with her hands fisted in the front of his shirt, she allowed him to maneuver her so she was straddling his lap.

She swallowed his groan as she settled there, immediately aware of the hard length between her legs. Unable to resist the tease, Hermione experimented with a roll of her hips and was rewarded with Draco breaking the kiss just long enough to hiss "fuck" between his teeth. She smirked against his lips as they returned to hers, harder and more insistent now.

Both of his hands moved to her waist, his fingers digging into her skin and sending delicious waves of pleasure from the point of contact. She threaded her hands into his hair and tilted his head back, eliciting an appreciative groan from the blond. Hermione wondered how she could have felt so exhausted before; she was positively buzzing with energy now.

It was Draco who deepened the kiss, sweeping his tongue across the seam of her lips before plunging it into her mouth. She welcomed the intrusion with a level of enthusiasm she had not known she possessed. The whole experience was making her feel almost drunk, and she never wanted to sober up.

As his tongue continued to dance with hers, Draco's hands began to wander. He brought them around to her front, his fingers teasing along the hemline of her shirt. Hermione whimpered as his palm flattened against the skin of her stomach and started to move upwards.

The tips of his fingers grazed the underside of her breast, and they groaned simultaneously. Hermione was not wearing a bra, as she had not intended on doing anything other than visit the store and return home to crash on the couch. Draco wasted no time in taking advantage of her bare chest, rolling the warm mound in his hand before focusing on her nipple, pinching it between his thumb and forefinger.

She broke the kiss, her head falling back as her eyes rolled at the level of pleasure coursing through her veins. It had been a long time since she had found release, even by herself, and she could barely remember the last time she had a man bring her to the edge.

"Draco," she panted, his name a prayer on her lips.

He hummed and attached himself to her neck, sucking gently at her flushed skin. His other hand followed the path of the first, and began to tease her other breast; she was mewling beneath his touch now. He smirked against her neck before peppering soft kisses up and along her jawline.

Removing one hand, he brought it up to cup her cheek, forcing Hermione's face back to his. His lips crashed to hers immediately, his tongue once again proving its dominance as it pushed into her mouth. He shuffled forward and stood, stabilising Hermione in his embrace.

She stood on tiptoes in order to maintain contact, her hands snaking up his chest and over his shoulders. He smiled softly against her lips as he grasped the hem of her shirt and tugged it over her head, placing his lips back on hers as soon as the garment hit the floor. An appreciative growl rumbled in his chest as the heat from her bare chest radiated through his own clothing.

His large hands splayed out over her lower back, revelling in the softness of her skin. It was all Hermione could do to keep up with his demanding kisses; the feel of him was overwhelming. When he began to walk them backwards, she pulled away slightly, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as she gazed up at him, questioning. He only smirked in response, until her back hit the wall of her living room and he was kissing her again.

He bent down slightly, wrapped his hands around her hips and then stood straight, effectively lifting her and settling her legs around his waist. Hermione squeaked in surprise as he pinned her against the wall, his strong arms supporting her weight.

"Oh my God," she breathed, as he attacked her neck again. There would be marks tomorrow morning which would be difficult to explain at the hospital, but Hermione found that she did not care much.

"You have no idea," he purred against the junction of her neck and shoulder, "how long I have been fantasising about doing this."

Hermione giggled, a low and throaty sound that Draco answered with a thrust of his hips; her mirth was quickly replaced with a long moan.

"Please," she whispered.

His eyes searched hers for a fraction of a second before he reached between them and unstuck the hem of his shirt from where it had been wedged. He tugged the garment over his head in one swift movement, and Hermione's jaw dropped open at the chiseled Adonis before her.

It was impossible for him to miss the way she was looking at him as if he were a tall glass of water manifesting before her after a long time in the desert. He smirked as she snapped her mouth shut, enjoying the blush that crept up her cheeks.

Hermione sighed with contentment as he leaned forward and kissed her again. His chest was warm and slightly slick with sweat. She arched into him and pleasure zinged up her spine as her nipples grazed against his bare skin.

His hands squeezed her hips, his fingers pressing hard enough to leave red imprints. Hermione moaned appreciatively and rolled her hips forward. Draco inhaled sharply through his nose and pushed her harder against the wall, matching her thrusts.

"You're going to make me beg for it, aren't you?" Hermione pulled away to whimper against his mouth.

He smirked in response. "Of course; you'll appreciate what you get so much more this way." His voice was low and seductive, filled with promises Hermione was keen to see fulfilled.

Immediately.

She groaned with his next thrust, her head thrown back against the bricks, leaving the column of her neck exposed for his teeth to nibble their way down. He hoisted her higher, and she whined at the loss of contact of his member between her legs. His hot mouth descended on her left breast, capturing her stiffened nipple between his teeth.

"Shit!" She hissed, squeezing her eyes shut. The fingers in his hair tightened and she tugged, knotting her hands there. He growled in satisfaction, but did not ease his ministrations.

A hand came up to cup her right breast, massaging with a rough and relentless grip. If she had have been in her right mind, Hermione may have marvelled at Draco's ability to hold her upright with the way she was writhing against him, positively purring in his ear as he continued to torture her, winding the coil deep within tighter and tighter.

As her nails slid from his hair, to rake across his shoulders, Draco suddenly dropped Hermione to the ground. He kept an arm around her waist to ensure she didn't end up sitting on the floor, holding her against him until he was sure she could keep herself upright. Then he lowered himself to his knees in front of her and reached for the waistband of her tracksuit pants.

No longer coherent, Hermione braced herself against the wall and allowed him to divest her of the remainder of her clothing, leaving her stark naked in front of him. He growled appreciatively as he brought his face to her mound and flicked a tongue up over her slit experimentally. Hermione's eyes flew open as his breath ghosted across her core and she mewled in disappointment when he did not immediately return his mouth to it.

"Easy, Granger," he chuckled. "We have all night."

Hermione only moaned in response.

He began to pepper kisses along the inside of her thighs, using his strong hands to hold her in place, lest she try to roll her hips forward. Languidly - far too slow for Hermione's liking - he slipped her right leg over his shoulder and let it rest there, continuing his ministration from her knee towards her core.

Hermione tasted blood; she had bitten her tongue to stop herself from releasing a string of needy requests. She had resigned herself to the fact that he would have transformed her into a puddle of desperation, begging for him to sheath himself inside her eventually...but not this soon; he would never let her forget it.

"Ah!" She cried out, her hands fisting in his hair as he ran his tongue up the inside of her groin, right next to where she wanted him most. Her hips bucked, the movement futile against his firm hands.

"Uh-uh," he scolded, and she shuddered at the way his breath ghosted across her; she was on fire. "Stay still, or I'll stop."

"Okay," she whimpered, loosening the hold on his hair.

"Good girl," he breathed before lowering his mouth back to the inside of her thigh, this time nipping at the flesh and travelling towards her knee.

Hermione allowed herself a throaty moan, her eyes squeezing shut as her head rested against the wall. She had never experienced such exquisite torture; she simultaneously wanted to tell him she could not take any more, and tell him to never stop. No one had ever attempted to dominate her in any facet of her life, much less the bedroom. Romance novels had taught her that men naturally found their place at the top of the hierarchy when it came to sexual endeavours, but until this moment, she had only been with self-serving vanilla partners.

Her focus was brought back to the present when Draco ran his tongue over her slit again, sending delicious shivers up her spine. It took all of her remaining senses to stay still, his threat echoing in her ears.

Please, she begged silently, don't stop.

He seemed to understand that she was close to imploding, so without further warning, he flattened his tongue over her mound, and latched on to her clit.

"Fuck!" She cried out, her hips spasming uncontrollably. White hot pleasure burst from her core and spread into her belly; Hermione was lost in the sensation, her chest rising and falling in a sporadic rhythm, her breath leaving her in harsh bursts. "Yes!"

Draco added one finger from his right hand, gently teasing her entrance by stroking it with just the tip. Around and around he continued to build the suspense before sliding the digit all the way in. He growled happily as Hermione moaned throatily above him. He began to pump in and out with his index finger, using his left hand to undo the front of his pants; he couldn't remember ever being this hard, and the tent he was pitching was now bordering on painful. He sighed with relief as his cock sprung free of its confines.

Adding another finger to her wet heat, Draco wrapped his free hand around his length, allowing himself a few quick tugs. His moan vibrated through Hermione and she echoed his sentiment, arching against his mouth. He allowed her this as a burst of pride flared in his chest; he was the one making her behave like a nymphomaniac...his nymphomaniac...

As her walls began to clamp down on his fingers, Draco pulled them free and released her with a slight pop. Hermione choked on a sob and allowed the smirking blond to lower her leg back to the ground. She was unsteady on her feet, having been brought so close to the edge, eager to be thrown over it, but he stood in a swift movement and caught her in his arms.

He tasted like her, tangy and sweet at the same time, and Hermione welcomed the unfamiliar-yet-familiar taste as his tongue slid between her lips. Draco's pants had slid to the floor as he stood and he kicked them from his ankles as he took a breast roughly in his hands. The soft feel of her pressed against him was so welcome he could not put it into words. As a teenager he had fantasised about fumbling between the sheets with her, but now - she as a woman, and he as a man with experience...this was so much better than he had ever dared to imagine.

"Hermione," he breathed as he slid his mouth from hers, trailing kisses along her jaw towards her ear. He thrust forward, allowing himself the small pleasure of his hard length rubbing against the smooth skin of her stomach. She moaned his name in response, and her right hand began to snake between them; Draco caught it in the hand that had been preoccupied with her chest.

"Oh no, love," he breathed into her ear. "Not yet. This is about you, remember. No touching."

She groaned, frustrated tears burning in the corners of her eyes. Need swelled in her abdomen like a snow storm, twisting and writhing against his whispered promises that she would not touch him, would not come, until he was ready for her to. To distract herself somewhat, she thought desperately of her previous sexual encounters; she could not imagine a scenario in which she would put up with such treatment from anyone she had been with before. In fact, if the likes of Ronald Weasley had pinned her against a wall and told her she wasn't allowed to find release until he decided she was ready, she would have slapped him and walked out.

Draco was different in so many wonderful ways. He was so sure of himself, he didn't fumble and trip over his words, his hands were steady as they explored her body, and his voice - when had that gravelly baritone appeared? As was her wont, Hermione began to imagine what her life would have been like if she had of noticed Draco all those years ago, as something more than just a fellow student she sometimes tutored.

"You're distracted," he kissed his way down her neck, his hands coming to rest on her hips. She hissed through her teeth; his long fingers would leave bruises. "I can't imagine," he purred, "how you are distracted when I have you naked and under my complete control…"

Hermione moaned and squeezed her eyes shut as he sucked hard at the junction of her shoulder. "I was thinking," she panted, "about all the time I wasted; imagine what we could ha- "

"Stop," he ordered. Hermione snapped her mouth shut as Draco lifted his head, his gaze meeting hers. She saw determination, fire, desire, and something else she couldn't place shifting in his grey orbs. "Focus on now."

He said nothing further, leaning forward and capturing her lips with his in a rough kiss. Hermione did as she was told, bringing her hands up and locking them around his neck as he pushed a leg between hers. She immediately tugged him closer, forcing her tongue in to his mouth this time, and trying desperately to make contact with his thigh, her core alight with need.

He chuckled darkly against her lips, and caught the bottom one between his teeth. She yelped and then moaned as he sucked it, soothing her. Using the knee sandwiched between her legs, he forced them apart. Hermione shuffled her feet to allow him better access; she watched, utterly mesmerised, holding her breath, as he slowly brought the fingers of his right hand to his mouth and sucked on them hard. His gaze did not leave hers as he trailed his palm over her chest, gliding between her breasts, over her stomach, and then settling at the apex of her thighs.

"Oh, God," she whimpered, her head falling back against the wall as his fingers entered her in one swift movement.

"Nope, just me," he grinned down at her, his eyes bearing promises of what was to come despite his joking tone.

She was unable to appreciate his quip, her legs already beginning to give in to gravity. His free arm wrapped around her waist, supporting her, while he reacquainted his mouth with her neck. It was easier to talk dirty to her without his lips and tongue busy moving against hers, so he contented himself with biting and licking at the sensitive skin of her jaw and throat.

"Draco!" She mewled as he sped up his pace, his fingers pistoning in and out of her.

"Yeah?" He breathed into her ear. "I can feel how ready you are to let go, Hermione."

Her name on his lips almost sent her over the edge right there, but she clung to reality by the thread of willpower that remained. Her eyes rolled back into her head and her chest heaved with the exertion of dealing with this level of physical and psychological pleasure.

"I'm not ready for you to come yet, though," he continued, his voice a low vibrato that sent shock waves straight to Hermione's core. "I bet you can guess where I want you to find your release," he grinned against her neck, "tell me; where do you think…?"

At that her walls began to flutter around his fingers and Draco slowed his ministrations. "Easy, love," he crooned. He drew out of her completely, using his slick digits to stroke the length of her slit, flicking the sensitive bud at the top. Hermione cried out, her hands scrambling to find something to hold on to; he would be wearing the scratches from her nails on his shoulders for days.

"Please," she moaned, unable to muster an ounce of dignity. Her voice was high pitched and she was whining, but she could not bring herself to care. "Draco, please...I need you - "

"What do you need, Hermione?" He hummed, a single finger continuing to stroke her up and down. His touch was so feather-light that she would not have been able to come, even if he allowed her to, but every time the tip of his index finger grazed over her clit, an electric current ran from the point of contact, up through her body, making her shiver and shudder against him.

"You," she panted. "I need you. Please."

"What do you need from me?" He pressed, this time slipping his finger between her folds again.

"There!" She cried out. "Please, I need you there."

"Where?" He increased his pace, pumping without mercy into her slick core.

"Inside me!" She gasped; it was all she could do to remain lucid at this point.

"Okay," he pulled his finger out and took an infinitesimal step backwards, so that there was about an inch of free space between them. "But you still haven't answered my question."

"What question?" Hermione licked her lips, her eyes roaming hungrily over his body, appreciating the dips between defined muscles, and the sinful 'v' of his abdomen…

He grinned wickedly and brought his hands up, laying them flat on the wall either side of her head. "Where do you think I want you to come?" He whispered.

Hermione's breath hitched as his breath washed over her face. "You?" She guessed, her tone unsure.

He hummed his assent and lowered his face to her neck once more, leaving a single feather-soft kiss on the column of her throat before whispering; "Where on me, Hermione? I want to hear you say it."

"On-on…" she stammered, her eyelids fluttering shut.

"Hmm?" The vibration of his deep voice sent a delicious shiver up her spine and Hermione inhaled sharply.

"On your cock…" she breathed, her cheeks flooding with warmth.

A growl rumbled through his chest and she noted the increase in the pace of his breathing; for less than a second, she revelled in the fact that she was able to have an affect on him too.

"On your knees," he said thickly.

Hermione frowned; on my knees? How does that work...oh! She shook her head to clear it, and then did as she was told. He watched her hungrily lowering herself to the floor and grasped a fistful of her hair as she came face to face with his hard length.

She could see that he had been leaking; tracks of pre-cum had made their way down to the base, and a droplet was glistening at the tip. She poked out her tongue and flicked it over the head of his shaft experimentally.

He hissed through his teeth. "Don't tease," he growled, his fist tightening in her hair. She winced as the strands fought to remain in her scalp.

Knowing she had no other choice but to obey him, Hermione used her right hand to guide him into her mouth. He moaned in pleasure, only just stopping himself from thrusting into her throat. She kept her hand at the base, steadying him as she began to move up and down, her tongue swirling in time with her ministrations.

"Merlin," he growled.

Hermione glanced up from underneath her lashes. The muscles of his abdomen flexed and relaxed in time with his breath; his chest rose and fell in sporadic movements, and his head was thrown back so she could not see his face. His moans seemed to rumble all the way from his throat, down to his groin, where Hermione captured them with her mouth.

Feeling emboldened, she quickened her pace, and hollowed her cheeks to suck harder. Her free hand settled between her own legs, her fingers dancing across her clit in desperate movements. She moaned loudly around his cock, and Draco seemed to guess what she was up to, down there on the floor.

"Hermione," he said warningly. "Stop playing with yourself."

He brought his gaze back down to lock on to hers; she continued working his cock, but stilled her hand obediently. Tugging on her hair, Draco forced her to still before beginning to thrust slowly into her mouth. Her eyes widened but as he told her how beautiful she looked with a mouthful of his cock, and how amazing she felt, she soon grew accustomed to the loss of control.

"Alright," he suddenly smirked, still pumping in and out of her mouth. "You can touch yourself now, love."

Hermione moaned gratefully, the vibrations dancing up his cock. Draco bit down on his own groan of appreciation.

"You have ten seconds." He growled.

Hermione's fingers had already disappeared into her wet core. She looked up at him, unable to verbalise her confusion as he was still fucking her mouth.

He grinned seductively. "If you don't come in ten seconds, then you don't come at all."

Hermione whimpered, pulling her fingers out of her heat and roughly pressing them to her tingling clit.

"That's it, Hermione," he groaned as he quickened his pace. "Come for me."

Hermione tried. She really did. She worked herself furiously, moaning continuously as Draco relentlessly pumped into her mouth...but she found that ten seconds really wasn't that long a time at all, especially with Draco chuckling above her, telling her to hurry up and the clock was ticking.

"Stop," he demanded harshly. She did as she was told, her hand dropping uselessly to the floor between her legs. She wanted to scream, to cry, to beg...but she swallowed the feeling of frustration and met his eyes with a determination echoed in their brown depths.

He smothered a smirk and fixed her with an expression of triumph. He tutted. "Poor baby," he crooned, pulling himself from her mouth. Hermione licked her lips, her gaze still trained on Draco. "Stand up."

She got to her feet; no sooner had she steadied herself, he surged forward and collected her in his arms. He attacked her mouth with hot kisses, moaning into her as the taste of himself danced across his tongue.

Hermione focused on keeping up with him, her hands moving to tangle in his hair as his palms found their way to her arse cheeks, massaging and squeezing. Then he took his hands away, only to bring one down, spanking her hard. She cried out in surprise, finding the experience oddly arousing. He did it again, on the other side this time, and Hermione moaned into his mouth.

"Please," she panted between kisses. "Please, Draco."

"Please, what, Princess?" He hummed.

"Please…" she swallowed. "Please fuck me."

His hands once again grasped the flesh of her arse, this time lifting her from the ground. She instinctively wrapped her legs around his hips and he growled praises in her ear. Effortlessly, he supported her weight by pinning her to the wall, before placing the tip of his cock against the heat of her entrance.

He bit down on the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from moaning out loud. His shoulders tensed as he lowered her onto him, hissing through his teeth. Hermione spasmed in his arms, an orgasm threatening just from him filling her.

"Tell me how I feel, Hermione," he commanded, his breath hot in her ear.

"A-amazing!" She choked. "Please...more…"

He chuckled, a dark and delicious sound. "Remember, you can't come until I say so."

"Yes," she whined. At this point she would agree to anything if it meant Draco would start to move. The consequences of breaking her promise paled in comparison to the agony of waiting for release, and she was willing to pay whatever price.

His response was swift, pulling out of her before quickly thrusting back in. Hermione moaned in contentment, a long, low sound that was quickly cut off as Draco increased the pace.

"Sh-shit!" She lowered her hands from his hair, gripping his shoulders instead, feeling the muscles rippling against her palms.

"So - fucking - perfect," Draco growled in time with his thrusts, causing Hermione's eyes to roll back inside her head.

"Please," she whined. "Please, Draco - I need...ah!"

At her words, Draco had moved one hand to rest between their bodies, his thumb quickly finding her clit. He rubbed in small circles and hissed into her ear.

"Come for me."

Hermione did not need telling twice. She shattered around him almost instantly, registering his appreciative groan as if from the other side of a tunnel, so strong was her orgasm. His thumb slipped from her clit as she came down, her walls continuing to flutter around his length.

Draco slowed his pumping, fearing that if he maintained such a pace, he'd finish before giving her another orgasm...and that just would not do.

"That was amazing, love," he cooed in her ear.

Hermione whined at his praise, her body limp in his arms as she welcomed the slower thrusts. He slowed to a stop and Hermione's whimpering turned to annoyance rather than appreciation as he slipped from her.

He chuckled at her pout as he lowered her to the ground. Winding his arms languidly around her waist he tugged her to him and planted a hot kiss on her mouth. As he continued to move his lips against hers, he spun her around and walked her backwards.

He steered her around the coffee table and the couch and then stopped, pulling back slightly. "Where's your bedroom?" He whispered against her lips.

"Down the hall," she panted, "first door on your left."

He smirked and then resumed the kiss, tugging on her bottom lip with his teeth as he continued to steer her around her apartment.

Her bedroom door was open, and Hermione briefly thanked her past self for making the bed that morning. Draco deposited her on top of the comforter, giving her all of two seconds to admire his lithe frame before he was on top of her, moaning into her mouth as his length teased her entrance.

Impatiently, he hooked his right hand underneath her left knee and tugged so that her foot was hooked around his hips. She squealed in delight as he nipped his way down the column of her throat, beginning to thrust the tip of his cock against her folds.

"You're bloody amazing," he panted in her ear, placing a kiss on it. "So fucking amazing."

Hermione sighed beneath him, too focused on his ministrations between her legs to fully appreciate his words. Before she could ask him to please fuck her properly, Draco surged forwards, one hand holding her leg to his side, as he sheathed himself inside of her once again.

He watched with intense eyes as Hermione's face relaxed into a picture of pleasure. One of her hands found her breast, rolling and tugging at the nipple as Draco thrust into her, utterly mesmerised.

Unfortunately, watching Hermione pleasure herself while he fucked her into the mattress only served to heighten Draco's pleasure; if he didn't do something, he would reach his end before he had the chance to give the brunette witch a second orgasm.

With a growl, he removed his hand from her leg, snatching at her wrists and lifting them above her head in one swift movement. Hermione moaned and arched her back, pressing her sensitive breasts against his chest.

Biting his lip, Draco allowed himself to respond with his own sound of contentment. She watched him from beneath hooded eyelids, her mouth slightly open, panting in time to the slapping of his hips against hers.

"Wrap your legs around me," he ordered her.

She did as she was told, locking her ankles together across the small of his back.

"Good girl," he crooned. "I want you to come for me again."

The sound she made in his ear nearly made Draco lose it right there, but he bit the inside of his cheek and forced himself to recount Arithmancy problems until the urge to piston in and out of her until he found release, passed.

Hermione's hands, still bound together by one of Draco's, curled into fists above her head. Her hips bucked against his as he increased his pace slightly, slamming all the way in and all the way out over and over again. Hermione relished in the way he hissed "fuck!" between his teeth, the coil in her belly once again winding tighter and tighter until she felt as though she might explode.

"Now, Hermione," he growled, and she was gone.

Golden light flashed in front of her closed eyes as her orgasm washed over her, her whole body shuddering against Draco's. He moaned into her ear and a fresh wave of pleasure coursed through her veins, leaving her an incoherent mess as she came down from the high.

Without a word, Draco moved, releasing her wrists so that he could wrap his arms around her waist. He sat up in one fluid movement, bringing Hermione with him so she was straddling his lap, his cock still buried within her.

They moaned simultaneously as the change in position sent shocks of pleasure through their bodies. Draco, knowing he wouldn't last long, buried his face into the crook of her shoulder and began rocking back and forth.

It did not take Hermione too long to pick up the rhythm and then take over. Draco gripped her hips, helping to roll them faster as his breathing shallowed and his head dropped back.

"Oh, fuck," he moaned.

He was answered by one of Hermione's as she clung to his shoulders and quickened the pace further.

"Fuck - Draco - I'm going to - " she panted as her walls tightened around him. She keened as her orgasm took over and Draco could no longer hold back as she continued to rock against him.

"Hermione!" He clumsily captured her lips in his, digging his fingers into her hips as she came down from her orgasm. He held her in place, slipping his tongue in to her mouth with a guttural moan, as he thrust up once, twice, and then stilled, emptying himself inside of her.

As his fingers loosened their grip, his kiss became more insistent and Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck, holding herself flush against him. He crushed her to him and snogged her senseless, moving slowly until he was once again lying on top of her.

Breaking the kiss, he lifted his head and propped himself up on an elbow so he could run his gaze from her face, over her chest, down to where they were still joined together.

A slow smile graced his face as his eyes returned to her face. She smiled shyly back at him, her cheeks flushed from their tryst.

"Hi," she said softly.

His smile widened into a mind-numbing grin and Hermione melted beneath him. Sliding out of her, Draco once again lowered himself, but settled on her side this time so as not to crush her.

"Hey," he replied, running his hand over her belly in soft, circular motions.

For the first time in her life, Hermione didn't know what to say. She bit down on her bottom lip as Draco looked down at her expectantly. Suddenly feeling incredible exposed, Hermione placed an arm over her eyes and giggled, the sound reverberating in her chest.

"What?" Draco said. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing," Hermione said, but her giggles only intensified. "I-I just can't believe we did that...I know it seems stupid to say it, but I don't do things like…" she trailed off as Draco's eyes darkened and his movements across her skin teetered towards her pubic bone.

"Like me?" He arched an eyebrow. "I should hope not, Granger." He smirked then, and Hermione shivered beneath him.

At that, he dipped his teasing fingers between her folds; she was still slick, and he used the moisture to coat his fingers before circling them around her clit.

She hissed and he chuckled. "So sensitive," he murmured, bending his head to suck at the junction of her neck and shoulder.

Hermione moaned in assent, lifting her hips in time with Draco's ministrations. She gasped in surprise as he pressed his already-hard length against her thigh.

With a chuckle, Draco pulled his fingers from her and rolled on to his back, tugging her with him until she was straddling his waist.

"Well, well," he said, smirking up at her. "What do you say we do it again, and see if you can believe it then?"

Her laugh quickly turned into a moan as Draco sheathed himself inside of her once more.