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Mr. Malfoy had always been a present father.
Even before his ex wife’s death, Pureblood culture just slipped past him.
He didn’t care that Scorpius tutor’s were the ones supposed to teach him or that it was a woman’s job to care for his every need . Every day, he took the time off his extremely busy schedule as an Auror or made time during his evenings to sit down and read with him. Sometimes, he would use Chocolate Frog cards to teach him about history, or show him spells that made his little face light up in admiration, even when they were as simple as a Leviosa.
Other times he was content with just laying on the floor with him, playing with toy brooms and Snitches, and Hermione saw it in his face that he couldn’t wait until he was older to finally teach him how to ride a real broom just like he did in his free time.
Hermione witnessed it all . Every smile, every tear from the little boy and every interaction with his father.
It was her job to be present . Be available at all times in case he was suddenly called away for work.
It was an incredibly well paid job, enough to allow her to live in a comfortable apartment and pay for Healing School expenses.
She was young, still. Twenty-one and ambitious. Healing School had been her dream career since she was thirteen and involved herself more in the magical world and she was thankful for Mr. Malfoy to be a big part of her achieving her dream.
“Miss Granger?”
The otherworldly attractive voice of her employer took her out of her thoughts. She hadn’t noticed that the book in her hands was long discarded in the couch beside her and the most perfect silver eyes had been fixed in her.
Hermione shook her head and uncurled herself from her position on the couch, her left leg tingling after being in the same position for so long.
It was a Friday night, she usually didn’t work until this late, but it had been a busy week for him and he had asked her to stay overnight just in case. Even if she was always available, just a Floo call away, it was easier when she stayed, and having her own room proved comfortable enough to not have a single complaint.
He watched her watch him as he adjusted his wand holster in his left hip, his Auror robes perfectly tailored that clinged to every bit of skin she wished she could see.
“Sorry, Mr. Malfoy. Do you need to leave?”
For some reason, Hermione felt more awkward than other times. It could’ve been the way she was dressed, her short pajamas already on, or the way he was intently watching her bare legs in the light of the fireplace.
His eyes traveled up to her eyes and she felt herself take a step forward.
Mr. Malfoy cleared his throat and she stopped on her tracks. What the hell was she about to do?
“Please. Mr. Robbinson called on an emergency in Muggle London, I need Apparate there straight away. Scorpius is already in bed but check on him just in case he wakes up.”
She shook her head nervously, “Of course.” She chewed her lip for a second before he nodded, thanking her and indicating their conversation was over but his eyes stayed strained on hers for just a moment too long.
“Good night, Miss Granger.”
His body was almost turned all the way around when her words left her lips, blurting like a blushing Fourth Year.
“Good luck,” She paused, “Sir.”
He froze with his back to her, his already broad shoulders expanded inside of his robes as he took a deep breath, the side of his face barely illuminated by the fireplace as he lightly turned his head around.
She would have fainted, her brain shortcutting and her breath catching in her throat. She had no idea, all she knew is that his words hit somewhere deep between her legs.
“Thank you, sweetheart .”
———
Hermione couldn’t sleep.
It was late in the evening, far past her usual bedtime. Their wing of the Manor was too silent for her liking, no Scorpius laughing at something Mr Malfoy had said and no Mr. Malfoy reading with that deep and attractive voice of his.
She couldn’t stop thinking about him. It wasn’t unusual, she should’ve been blind to not notice that Mr Malfoy was a hot dad and every day since she started working for— with them there had been something, a smile here and a wink there, playful comments and attractive looks that made her legs shake.
Thank you, sweetheart .
It was the very first term of endearment she had received from him, but she was sure his intentions were far from the ones she was thinking of. He was a respected man, even after his actions in the war he had proved himself over and over again, with his job and his role in society or when he was taking care of Scorpius.
Well, that was the thing. Attractive men attractively taking care of their children is just that: attractive. She would’ve been stupid if she didn’t want him.
But he was off limits. She worked for him.
No.
Totally inappropriate.
Yes.
Inappropriate.
She tried convincing herself, tried pretending she didn't rub her thighs together when he slipped past her in the kitchen and lightly pressed his palm on the middle of her back, respectfully letting her know he was walking behind her. Or when he cooked for them and requested she stay for dinner, saying it was part of the job description and his responsibility as employer to make sure she ate. Or when they had meaningful conversations after Scorpius had fallen asleep, she even stayed after she was supposed to, but he kept her close, kept her there with him, shared a cup of tea, or sometimes he had Firewhiskey. Those times were usually different, and she was sure that the words and secrets, his deepest thoughts slipped past his lips without wanting to. But she got to understand him, and his relationship with Scorpius’s mother.
Or that one time—gods that one time she fell asleep on the couch after he had one of those long nights and woke up in her bed covered in blankets. It was him, she was sure of it. But he was a father after all, all their encounters and every single action towards her had been that. Fatherly.
And Merlin if that didn’t make her want him even more.
Warmth had pooled between her legs and her heart was beating like she had run a marathon, a hand slipping down her stomach—
The Floo sound almost got lost in the wandering of her mind, if it weren’t for the dead silence that crept through the Manor.
Mr. Malfoy was back.
It had been the first time she had been awake at this hour to hear him arrive, but she knew that he liked to have a glass of Firewhiskey before going to bed. Shake the stress off.
So when his steps became louder and louder, faster and almost desperate nearing her room— or well, probably Scorpius room, she freaked out a little bit.
Unable to pinpoint the exact reason why, or maybe trying to ignore it, she climbed out of the bed and into the corridor. It was dark save for small torches of Lumus that dim lit the portraits in the walls.
She gasped, horrified but proud of herself for trusting her instincts.
He was walking down the hallway towards Scorpius room, right next to hers, his face almost desperate in distress and blood running down his temple.
He had been hurt.
Something bubbled inside of her, a combination of anger and… worry.
She was worried and somehow inappropriately attracted to the sight of him. Hair tousled and his robes no longer pristine like they were when he left.
Hermione watched him walk down the hall, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his wand holster on his hip and a look of determination and anger.
He stopped in his tracks when he saw her, it was dark and she hadn’t noticed how close they were until he was just a few feet away.
He blinked for a second too long before focusing his eyes on her.
“You’re up.” Dark eyes pierced her.
“Is— is everything all right?” She asked, a tone evidently hesitant. Not sure if she would get an answer. But he surprises her.
“I—“ he struggled with the words. Clearing his throat, he tried again and suddenly gripped his wand in the holster. “It was a little kid. Some fucking arsehole that started shooting Avadas at a dinner party, he—he didn’t make it.”
She closed the few steps that set them apart and gently took his hand in hers, slowly unclasping his fingers from the tight hold on his wand.
Hermione knew what was going through his mind, why he had been desperately trying to reach his son’s room.
“He is safe. Scorpius is sleeping, do you want to see him?” She asked, her tone just a bit louder than a whisper.
Mr. Malfoy nodded and started moving past her, but she stopped him with her hand on his chest.
He looked down at it and back to her eyes. They’ve had the most physical contact during this conversation than in the entire time she had worked with him.
She didn’t mind. She craved it, in fact. As inappropriate as it was and—
His large hand cradled hers, his thumb brushing against her knuckles.
This was definitely too close.
“Thank you .” His eyes pierced hers.
His calloused finger felt right against her skin and she wondered how it would feel against her neck or between her thighs.
She internally shook her head.
His touch felt like a confession. The gentle touching, and the whispered words. She wasn’t certain what to make of it.
“I’ll heal you after.” She whispered and reached for his forehead with the other hand and gently fixed a strand of hair for him. He nodded and his hand twitched in her own, but soon he was removing it and clearing his throat and looking anywhere but her eyes.
Before she realized, he was past her and into his son's room.
———
Mr Malfoy had been a Potions Master, not in the literal sense of the title, but rather in practice. When his wife had fallen ill, he had done everything he could to find a cure. Hours spent in the Potions room and hours of researching to save his son’s mother. He had confessed, once, that he did it for Scorpius and not for him. He cared for his wife, in the sense that she was a nice person, a nice human being that cared and loved and gave him a child. She didn’t deserve to die, she didn’t deserve to suffer and it pained him seeing her like that.
But he didn't love her, not really.
She wasn’t sure what this room meant to him anymore, but he had started coming here more often, cleaning the space and even letting her and Scorpius play with toy Potions kits.
She took her wand in hand, taking everything she had learned at school and using it in real life for once. She examined the cut, and ran diagnostic spells all over him even when he told her he was fine. She hadn’t found more than a few bruises that were easily healed. The last thing— the cut on his forehead and temple would take a bit more, not because it was bad but because it was larger.
“You take good care of us,” he whispered and she felt the sound of his breathing on her chin. Even sitting in a chair, he was almost her height.
Hermione fumbled with her wand and avoided the silver eyes that wouldn’t look away from her, the ones that provoked the tremble in her hands and legs and the ones that made her want to kiss him.
She stared at the now free of blood cut, just a few drops of it pooling on the sides of the wound. It wasn't a deep cut and she would only need a couple more spells to heal it.
What should she respond? Yes, I love your child? Yes, every time you leave for a mission I worry as if I was your wife? Yes, I take good care of you because I do care .
Instead, she settled for safe .
“That's my job.” She answered.
His gaze was still searching her face and her own were avoiding direct contact. She wasn't sure she would be able to stop herself before doing anything stupid.
“I know. But I know you, you are not just here for the money. You love my son.” He stated, and he wasn't wrong. Yes, it was a good pay, yes it helped as she studied for Healing School.
No, she wasn’t staying just for the paycheck. Scorpius was one reason, the man in front of her the main one.
“I do love him. He is a good kid and I’ve watched him grow up. I worry and care for him,” she stopped and let her brain scramble its thoughts to avoid saying the ones that were forming, focusing on muttering antiseptic spells.
She couldn’t prevent the words from leaving her lips. “…as I do for you.”
She dared look at him now, the gray of his irises swirling with new sensations at eye contact. Her warmth melting his silver.
“Does anyone take care of you?” He whispered and his breath tickled her chin.
She choked a little at the drop of his tone. Hushed words that drove her crazy.
“I— I’m very independent, Mr Malfoy.” She blurted out, nervous, but her hand ignored it and moved to lightly cradle his jaw. It clicked under her touch the moment she laid her fingers on his skin.
Light stubble tickled her own fingers and she could swear she felt his breath hitch when she drove closer, only to be stopped by his legs. She tilted his head slightly to the side to look at the other side of the wound. The spell had worked all over it, perfectly clean.
“That's not what I asked.” He almost growled.
He—what?
“I— I don't know what you mean, Mr. malfoy.”
His tongue poked the inside of his cheek, not angry but also not neutral.
“You spent too much time with us. You’re a strong young lady, but sometimes we need someone to take care of us—you.” He cleared his throat, “A boyfriend, perhaps.”
She wanted to laugh, a boyfriend? One of those stupid boys from her class? The ones that were drawing dicks on school property not so long ago? No. A waste of time.
She chuckled and leaned back just to look at him a bit from a far. “I don't need one. Especially not one of the boys in my class.”
“A man, then?” He challenged, he took the window of opportunity to spread his thighs and his hands fell on top of them.
Shoulders back and chin up, she almost defied him. She didn’t need one.
“I don't need one.” She repeated and he chuckled, looking up and down on her as he bit his lip. She was still wearing her shorts from before but this was the only time since his return that he acknowledged them.
“But do you want one?” He insisted.
This had taken a different turn than she initially thought. This was almost… possessive. And for the first time, for the very first time, she saw something in his eyes that hadn’t been there before.
Longing.
Hermione didn't have to think about her answer. He was giving her everything she needed to start whatever it was he wanted to start. He was letting her choose.
To reject or to embrace.
To move away or move closer.
To hex him or kiss him.
In an instant, barely a breath passed when she decided for closer. She took a stand before him, and slowly—oh so slowly stepped between his thighs.
A final spell and he would be done, she felt him watch her, waiting for her response. A ghost of a touch lingered on the sides of her thighs, like it was never there.
Waiting for her to answer.
She cradled his face, never connecting their eyes, waiting for the moment she caved, confessed, accepted his request.
Muttering the spell, he barely winced, like he didn't feel the sting of skin closing and the scar disappearing.
She set the wand on the table, seconds of tension passed, breaths held tight in their chests. Uncertainty from him and nervousness from her.
She waited, room as quiet as the Manor had been the entire night, she brushed her fingertips on his cheek, down her jawline and gently folded the flaps of his shirt, messy after his call and after removing his robes.
Eyes locked, thighs bracketing thighs, nowhere to go.
She was just slightly taller than him when sitting down, the power of her position should've given her the upper hand. Instead, she was at the mercy of his gaze, hard enough to make her ache and feel . Enough to make her surrender at his question.
“Yes, I would like one .” A cheeky smile on her face earned her a smirk on his lips.
She was anticipating an explosion, like the books she read where they couldn’t get enough of each other, but there were no desperate touches, no fire kisses and no hurriedly discarded clothing.
Everything went in slow motion, he looked at her bare legs brushing the sides of his, pale skin contrasting with the dark fabric of his trousers. His gaze lingered on the hem of her shorts. His hand came to play with it, almost mesmerized.
“These drive me crazy.” He whispered, almost to himself.
Holding her breath, she waited heartbeat after heartbeat for him to do something else, but he stared, and brushed his fingers on her skin, just the slightest bit of hair after two days of no shaving spell. He didn't seem to mind.
His touch was fire, every small brush every small tickle lightning up her insides, pooling heat between her legs. But it was slow, gentle .
Mr. Malfoy was being too cautious, too careful. I'm not going to break, she wanted to tell him. And if I was, I would let you.
After a moment, he circled her waist with his strong arms and pulled her closer to him, his face met the skin on her neck and her hands instinctively grabbed the back of his head, pulling the white blonde locks just a bit too hard.
“Fuck.” He muttered against her collarbones. Her hands traveled down to his back just as it expanded, the signs of a deep breath. Maybe clearing his mind, maybe restraining himself or maybe—hopefully not, regretting this.
He looked up at her from under his lashes and she grabbed the back of his head, soothing his scalp with her nails.
It was too good, intimate and comfortable, too soon.
It scared her how rapidly she fell under his spell. Maybe he had fallen under hers.
“Where can I touch you?” He whispered, careful not to disturb the comfortable silence they were sitting in.
She thought they had been on the same page, the same subtle but flirty page. This was too respectful for her likeness.
She wanted bluntness. She wanted honesty .
“Everywhere.”
Loud and clear, like the growl that left his mouth and the sound of their mouths crashing together.
His hands roamed her waist and back, fidgeting with the fabric of her shirt, no longer hesitant but rather anticipatory.
Her lips molded to his, unaccustomed to this way of kissing. Too sensual and carnal. Too manly . Claiming her in every way possible.
She embraced it nonetheless, following the pulse of his lips and the shift of his soft tongue. He was just lightly teasing her with it, not the sloppy and messy kissing but rather promising of so much more. Of what he was capable of.
She pressed her chest against his and when he moaned she suddenly remembered she had been without a bra this entire time. Her nipples hardened against her shirt as he slipped his hands to touch her skin.
He was electrifying every single bit of skin he touched and she moaned back into his mouth.
She pressed herself even more against him only to be stopped by his chest.
Nowhere to go, no space left for her to take.
Needing moremoremore, she shifted her hips trying to straddle his lap, prompting him to close his legs and let her closer.
Without removing his mouths from each other, his hand drifted lower to cup her bum, kneading the muscle and bunching her shorts in the process. They barely covered anything, anyway.
He understood her intentions instantly and took a grip of her thigh, a desperate sound left his body when she finally managed to pull it over his own leg. It was too messy, the kiss getting frantic by the second.
As soon as she lowered over his lap, he felt him hard between her legs and it was almost instinctively and necessary to grind her hips.
He moaned between their lips before pushing back to take a breath, and apparently speak to her.
“I've never been into younger women. But you?” His eyes roamed her face, lips a breath away and there was no way she could’ve focused on anything but his eyes. “You, Hermione,” he bucked his hips, punctuating his words, “make me lose my damn mind.”
“Mr Malfoy…” she moaned, his words as good as his kissing to make her ache.
“Fuck, baby. I swear…” he licked a stripe on her jaw, and his nose came to lightly brushed the side of her cheek, nuzzling her face gently “…every time you call me that i want nothing more than to fuck you through my bed”
She gasped, head thrown back and catching herself on his neck and his hand on her back. He used the exposure to licked her throat. It was primal, the way he tasted her skin over and over again. Long stripes along her jaw, along the column of her throat.
He surprised her with every single one of his actions. No one has—no one ever had taken this time with her.
She somehow felt—knew this wasn’t wrong. In the way his mouth hovered for seconds—minutes over her pulse point. Feeling the heartbeat under his lips.
In the way he stopped her, made her stop the frantic movements and kissing to just feel .
Feel his hand traveling down her thigh, the other one keeping her steady from the back. Feel his lips brushing the skin on her neck and feel his fingers exploring, inching closer to where she really wanted to feel them.
“Oh god…” her voice trembled, his breath hot on her skin and his large hand traveling up and down her back gently, going all the way down to her bum and up again.
Mr Malfoy took his time with her. She was desperate and ready and needy for him and he just made her ache even more. Hermione wanted his hand on her breasts and her neck and her cunt. Now, if possible.
“Please…” she begged. One large hand stopped on the conjunction of her thigh and her hip, his fingers long enough that his thumb brushed the edges of her cunt easily.
“Tsk tsk. Have to be patient, Miss Granger. How can I take care of you if you don't let me?” He teased against her ear.
She moaned back in complaint and he chuckled. “So needy.” Murmured against her skin.
His hand left a trail of goosebumps from her thigh all the way to the side of her body until it finally hovered lightly under her breast.
His thumb barely brushed the side of her breast, feeling the swell of it against the pad of his finger.
So tender yet so arousing, even over her shirt.
He was hot, attractive, bloody beautiful like this. The shape her fingers had left on his hair, red lips and rosy cheeks. Flushed and perfect. His silver gaze shifted from her own lips, to her eyes and back down her body.
“You are so beautiful.” He whispered.
She chuckled and bit her lip, “You took the words out of my mouth.”
His head was thrown back in laughter, but she saw the disbelief in his eyes before they darkened. He smirked and finally, finally lifted the weight of her breast on his hand.
“That's only the beginning of what I'm going to do with that mouth.”
Hermione was the one that crashed her lips to his this time, just because she wanted it. Because she could. Enjoying taking control of the kiss for the time being, he was still under her, his lips molding to her every action and every swipe of her tongue and a sneaky hand slipping down between her legs.
One moment she rolled against his cock, and the other he was grabbing her thighs and standing up with her. She felt almost dizzy at the height he was carrying her at or maybe it was the breathtaking kiss they just shared.
She hid her face in his neck as he walked, kissing his skin and cursing herself for not doing it sooner. He tasted like remnants of cologne and newly collected sweat, either from his call or their snogging.
A bulb lit up in her brain as they neared his door.
“I'm on the potion,” she whispered against his ear, as playfully as she could without showing her expression. He gasped but she could imagine the smirk on his face. Kissing his neck for good measure, she hoped he understood what she wanted.
“You minx .” He spanked her arse, gentle but also hard enough to make it sting and she liked it. “You want me to come inside of you? Is that it?” He asked, hushed and deep as to not wake up his son next door. These were the first really filthy words coming from his mouth and she wondered whether he was a dirty talker.
She hoped so.
”Yes, please.” She answered, and she believed her own desperate tone.
She heard the noise of the doorknob as she felt the wooden door hit her back, it opened behind her and she found herself in a completely different room.
Hermione wasn't able to take it all in, all she cared about was the man in front of her as he put her down next to his large bed.
Their bodies just inches apart, so close it was almost as intimidating as the way he towered over her. Her nose barely brushed his chest. He stepped even closer to her and started unbuttoning his shirt, every movement of his knuckles brushing against her, over her chin as he unbuttoned the higher ones and down to her breasts covered by her pajamas.
Mr. Malfoy stood still in front of her and her heart beated even faster than before. His pale skin was just inches away from her lips, begging to be kissed. Begging to trail the shapes of his scars with her tongue. He stared down at her, chest expanding and contracting with every breath.
It was too much. It was everything.
Gently, she removed the shirt from his shoulders, his body frozen like he had been Stunned as she fully exposed his upper body.
He let her explore it, tough muscle underneath her fingers and unusually soft skin. Bending forward, she licked a stripe between his nipples, soft hairs tickling her tongue and he gasped on the top of her head, his hand coming to rest on the back of her neck, just holding her close.
She licked and nipped and sucked and kissed his skin, desperate little moans coming from both of their mouths for what felt like ages, probably just a few seconds.
She dipped a hand between their bodies and palmed his cock through his trousers and he bucked against her.
He felt big and thick and everything she wanted. He cursed and moaned above her and she gently squeezed him, but before she could even begin what was really conspiring in her brain, his large hand stopped her.
He looked down at her, “You first.” Was all he said before his hands dipped lower and started playing with the hem of her shirt, she nodded her confirmation instantly and soon she found their connected gaze momentarily interrupted by the light fabric of her shirt, just for a second before he appeared in front of her again.
Large hands roaming her bare sides and her own came to rest on the waistband of his trousers, lightly teasing the skin underneath. He wasted no time and imitated her exploring, coming higher to thumb her nipple. Mesmerized by her naked body.
It was almost an impulse to cover her body. However, there was something in his eyes that deterred her.
He stared through her as he played with every inch he could grasp, a little bit of kneading and some pinching, every single action eliciting noises from her she didn’t know she was capable of.
Her neck fell backwards when he pinched her right nipple just a little too hard, but his free hand was there to catch her head and his lips followed her soon after.
He had to bend his head to catch her mouth but he nipped her lips and played with them like it was no effort at all, not using his tongue any more than necessary and it was perfect. Just perfect.
She lightly stepped on her toes to bring him closer, not enough to fully press her body against his but enough to feel his warmth.
A sharp but very pleasurable feeling on her nipple again made her gasp against his mouth and it was only then he swiped his tongue over hers more provocatively. It was obscene, the growl that left his mouth at the contact and she wanted nothing more than to hear it again.
It was bold, she knew it was. But she didn't care.
Her hands that were on the waistband of his trousers tentatively moved underneath both of the fabrics covering him. Her small hands grabbed his bum, soft and surprisingly muscular too, and pressed him tightly against her.
“Fuck.” He moaned, and sped the pace of his lips, “Fuck” he swiped his tongue against hers , “Fuck” Hermione barely noticed that he had pushed her until the back of her legs hit the matress, her back falling on top of the sheets.
Her legs dangled down the side of the bed and if she wasn’t so aroused she would’ve been scared of the feral look that overcame his features.
Mr. Malfoy kneeled before her, his trousers still covering half of his body. He splayed his hands over her thighs and oh so gently spread them apart.
It was probably improper, the look of her short and loose shorts revealing her plain blue knickers to his eyes.
“Fuck,” he cursed again, like it was the only word he could create at the moment.
He lowered his face to her, and kissed his way from her knees up her inner thigh. Pausing there and teasing her skin, so close to where she needed him. His teeth were rough and wild, in a way it only meant he was trying to mark her. His tongue was gentle and caring, soothing her skin when she whimpered too much.
His face hovered closer to her cunt, right between her legs and she wanted nothing more than to close them and get some fiction, but she let him, only to see if whatever he was planning to do was going to be better than some useless rubbing of her thighs.
His eyes closed as his nose nuzzled her inner thigh and she heard his deep inhale on her core. Like he was committing her smell to memory. Three gentle kisses to her inner thighs had her gasping, still surprised at his tenderness.
He blinked to reveal silver eyes and openly stared at her from between her legs, his hands keeping her open.
“You are so adorably fuckable.” He muttered absently as his finger trailed paths on her inner thighs. So close yet so far away.
“Mr. Malfoy?” She asked, the first words in so long.
“Yeah, baby?” His finger dipped closer, not looking into her eyes, gaze only focused between her legs. He brushed the edge of her knickers and it was that innocent touch that made her the most wet.
“I—Please,” she begged and he smirked in return.
“The night is young, baby. Let me enjoy you.”
It was all he said but finally, finally cupped her cunt. It was fire to touch, she gasped as the palm of his hand covered her and it made her impossibly wetter.
She gently rocked her hips, testing to see if he was going to call her out. When he didn’t, she did it faster.
“That's it, baby. Good girl. ” He whispered.
But it was not enough. Not enough. Not enough.
“Please. Please I need more! I will do anything.”
A smirk plastered his face, “I’ll take you up on that. But for now…” he moved both fabrics to the side, the air of the room lightly hitting her bare skin.
In one second, he dipped his finger inside her labia and chuckled at— she assumed— her wetness.
He explored her with his fingers avoiding the place she needed him the most, and Hermione internally cursed him for being such a tease
She lifted herself on her elbows when she became impatient and locked her gaze to his. Dark eyes stared at her as he gently took two of his fingers and swiped them from her entrance and up to her clit, collecting everything she had. Slowly, he raised his finger to his mouth and sucked her juices out of his fingers. He hummed, tone pensive, but his eyelids didn’t falter at the taste, not even a blink as his tongue came out to taste her like it was bloody frosting.
“Oh god..” she moaned at the hottest sight she had ever seen in her life. Lost in his eyes, she barely noticed when he lifted his hands to her hips and yanked her shorts and knickers in one go. She thought she could come just by that action alone.
But it was better, his intentions much more pleasurable than that, and of course she should’ve expected he was a man who liked his dessert.
“Such a pretty cunt.” He muttered, and dove right in.
A long stripe of his tongue from her entrance and up to her clit, drinking everything she had to offer. He kissed and nipped and licked and teased her like they had all the time in the world, she was overflowing in the literal sense of the world, dripping down to the bed sheets below her. It had been hours of agonizing torture and teasing.
Hermione was sure that if he caved in and focused on her clit for more than three seconds she would come apart. Instantly.
“Too wet,” she whined, trying but failing to convey what she was thinking. I'm ready, I need to come. Please. Please.
He chuckled against her cunt and gently kissed her clit, one two, three times before dipping lower and teasing her entrance with his tongue. He stopped and looked at her flushed face and back down between her legs, using just the tip of his finger to tease her clit, the first direct and intentional touches of the night.
“There’s no such thing, baby. Give it to me.” He circled her nub over and over again and it had such an effect on her, a hard and loud moan ripped from her throat. She felt the magic going through the room as he casted a most likely wandless Silencing Charm.
Hermione was open to the hilt at a man's mercy like she had never been and she was enjoying it. Loving it, in fact.
He lifted his head slightly and lapped his tongue over her clit over and over again before dipping lower and replacing it with his thumb. He used his tongue to drink everything coming out of her as he took her higher and higher.
“That's it.” he slipped a finger inside without notice and she felt herself clamp down on him. “Such a pretty little girl for me.”
It was borderline incoherence, her state. Switching between complete silence as she let him have his way with her and letting out indecent sounds that matched his own.
“Mr. Malfoy, please!,” she begged, “I need—Oh— I need—”
His mouth climbed higher up her cunt until his lips closed over her clit and he sucked, so hard and so good it was all she needed to finally release all that tension he had been purposely pooling in between her legs. She whimpered and felt her body receive the release; curling toes, spamming muscles in her stomach, her fingers tangled tight in his hair. Her thighs trembling as the heat bloomed from her core all the way to her fingertips.
A half ragged breath, half moan ripped from her throat and—
“Daddy!” She breathed out as her orgasm washed over her, his tongue relentless in dragging every last drop out of her.
It was embarrassing.
Even in the haze she was after her orgasm, she covered her face with her hands, shaking her head.
“I—I’m sorry, I’m sorry—“ the mattress dipped beside her head and a—his warm body hovered over her.
“Look at me, baby” he whispered, gently gripping her wrists and prying her arms open and away from her face and pinning her besides her head. She couldn’t look him in the eye at first, but his gaze was so close and so intense she was almost forced to.
“Sorry.” A murmur, an embarrassed sound.
He released one wrist to brush the knuckles of his fingers against her cheek in such a tender display of kindness it almost made her forget what she had said.
His nose nuzzled hers, lips brushing with every uttered word.
“What do I need to do to make you call me that again?” He asked, almost pleading.
She thought—but she— what?
“What?” She whispered in awe.
He climbed up the bed, kneeling between her thighs and gripping her hair with his fingers. He tilted her head back slightly, exposing her neck.
“What does daddy need to do to make you call him that again, baby?” He grinded his hips against her bare cunt, his cock hard inside his trousers ignited her desire in mere seconds, embarrassment long forgotten.
She was ready, had been ready to have him inside the second he kissed her in the Potions room.
“Fuck me please” she whispered and it earned her the most beautiful growl from him. He bent down to kiss her lips once more with a punishing force. He bit her lip and she cried out, lost between plain and pleasure.
He suddenly stepped away from her and stood at the foot of the bed, slowly—sensually unhooking his belt from the loop, teasingly opening the button of his trousers and arousingly lowering the zip.
The trousers fell to his feet and stood just in his pants in front of her. He hooked his fingers inside of the waistband but didn’t push them down, instead he asked—
“Have you been a good girl?”
Desperation. That's what filled her senses. Desperate to see his cock, to feel it between her legs and desperate to come on it.
“I have,” she pleaded, “I’ve been so good, Mr Malfoy.”
She spread her legs even more, exposing herself to him, even if he had already seen it, even if he had already pry them apart. She wanted to be the one to do it this time.
Hermione gripped the sheets on her sides and arched her back slightly, showing him instead, and it was enough for him to jump on her.
It was mere seconds between the moment he exposed his cock and the moment he grabbed her from under her arms and threw her to the middle of the bed, rougher than ever before.
Her head fell back on soft pillows and she spread herself, waiting for him.
Mr. Malfoy climbed right behind her and kneeled between her legs, he spread her further apart pulling her thighs over his own and wasted no time in slipping two fingers inside of her. Meeting no resistance at all.
He pumped once, twice before inserting a third finger.
“Fuck, I love how wet you get for me.” He groaned.
Sloshing sounds filled the room— his room, fingers easily sliding in and out of her. It was good he was taking his time becuase she had finally focused her eyes on the length between his thighs and fuck— she needed him to get her ready.
“Please” She begged, and he thumbed her clit.
He waited a few more seconds before bending down to kiss her. Propped up on both his forearms beside her head and his cock brushed her cunt on every move.
Lifting his mouth from hers, he slipped his hand between their legs and pumped his cock just once, choosing instead to slide it against her lips, his silver eyes staring into her own at every drag.
“If I fuck you now, there’s no going back, Hermione.”
“I don’t want to go back.”
“Im gonna fuck you the way I want to.”
“Yes.”
“Im gonna take my fucking time, okay?”
“Yes,” she whined and nodded her head.
“I'm gonna take this little cunt like it’s mine“ He circled her clit with the tip and she clenched around nothing . “Do you get it?”
She nodded again, this time desperately.
His eyes went wide for some reason, maybe at the way she had never said no. At the way she submitted to him. But his lip curled up a bit, the beginnings of a smirk.
He lined himself with her entrance and slid right inside.
They both gasped—moaned at the same time against their lips and it was obscene .
He slid his body along hers for about ten thrusts, using the proximity to kiss her neck, her cheek. Run his tongue along her neck and down to her breasts, taking time with each nipple and doubling her pleasure.
“So good,” he cried out, “You’re so good, baby. Waited so long to have you.”
She gripped his head and ran her fingers through his hair, pressing him closer.
“You—oh—“ his pace was gentle at first, but he increased it with every thrust. She gripped his hair and pulled his face above her, just close enough to kiss him. He panted into her mouth and she swallowed every breath, every moan. She wanted to keep them forever.
He gave her a quick kiss on the forehead before lifting himself, sitting on his heels and slowly dragged his cock out of her until the tip rubbed against her lips. “Fuckfuckfuck.” He groaned, and thrusted back inside, pounding her even harder. Punishing. Unpredictable from his tenderness from before, but also somehow expected.
He grabbed her waist in his large hands, fingers digging into her skin. His pelvis hitting hers, skin slapping with every move and matching the timing of their every moan.
“Please,” she wasn’t sure what she was begging for, “Please,”
He looked up from her cunt to her eyes and back down. Mesmerized by the sight of his cock dragging against her walls, opening her up to him.
“What do you need?” He breathed out. He moved even harder, but somehow gentle, her tits bounced in her chest nonetheless and his thumb gently brushed the bone at her hip, a rhythm that was too much like the one of his thrusts.
“I don't know. I don't know,” she half screamed half moaned, “It's too good.”
He pulled her by her waist, spreading her thighs even further along his hips.
“Is it, baby? What’s happening to you, huh? Tell me” He asked, breathless as a drop of sweat started to run down his temple.
“I—“ she hesitated, “I’m getting fucked!.” It left her mouth like a whine, but she wasn't complaining.
“Yeah?” He breathed out, a smirk over his lips. He slowed his hips to a torturus pace, “Who’s fucking you Hermione?”
She was taking Merlin and goddamn Salazar she had been right about his dirty talk. Too good.
“You, Mr. Malfoy!”
His pace faltered for a second as he bent down again, pressing his chest to her breasts and cradling her face with his arms. He lifted her thigh and put one leg over his hip, forcing her to take him even deeper.
“No,” he kissed her briefly, and resumed his pace. His eyes focused on hers. “Who’s fucking you, baby ?” He pounded faster, one hand coming to lift her hips and changing the angle.
“Oh god…” she moaned when he hit her harder, better.
“No god, baby. Who. Is. Fucking. You?” He punctuated every word with a hard thrust before resuming his relentless pace.
“Daddy—oh go— daddy is fucking me!” She screamed.
“That's it, baby. Daddy is fucking you, huh? Making you feel nice?” She nodded, a tear slipping down her cheek and he covered it with his lips.
It was good. Too good. painfully good.
His lips traveled down her cheek until he was lined up with her lips, not touching, just brushing and mingling their breaths together.
Hermione felt almost like she was floating, and barely noticed how he kneeled again and set what would be the last of his thrusts.
He watched her with a lip between his teeth, eyes scanning up and down her body.
“Fuck you’re a dream” he muttered. One of his hands came closer to where they were joined and his gaze and thumb became focused only on making her clit feel good.
“Come on,” he crooned, “Let daddy feel you come on his cock.” His thumb was steady on her clit and she knew she would come any second now. Her legs trembled around his hips, indicating the early stages of her orgasm, so close—
“There you are, baby. That's a good girl.”
It was that, the thing that made her finally surrender to his touch and let herself go. He fucked through the entire wave, and it seemed it would never end.
After she came down, her body overflowing with sensitivity and overstimulation, he bent forward and lifted her from under her arms until she was resting on his lap, the change of angle making sure her clit hit… some part of his body, she didn't care she just knew she would come at least one last time.
She grinded her hips at the rhythm of his thrusts, it was tricky at first, trying to move in sync but in less than a few tries they got it right.
He buried his face on her neck, muttering filthy and beautiful things to her ear, making her squirm on top of him.
“ This is everything, baby….Touch you like you’re mine
Letting me make you feel good… so good to us… to me.. to me…”
His arms held her from the back and there was not an inch of her body away from his, his whispers clear in her ear. His thrusts became more faltered, almost lazy and gentle, but electric nonetheless. He was making her come again.
It was everything she could’ve asked for.
“…good little girl… soft… so soft, baby. Please come, baby. Please, baby you feel so good when you come, I— give it to me please and I’ll give you my come—“
He seemed to snap and his thrusts became punishing once again, dragging against every single part of her insides and hitting right where she needed him to.
She cried out at his words. Yes, yes, yes. There was a need rooted into her soul for him to come inside of her, wanted it, craved it. She had to hold on her orgasm because—
“Yeah, that's right… my come.. just for you…you just need to come for me baby, and I’ll give it to you.”
She could tell he was close and so was she. One different thrust, a slight shift in angle and she wouldn’t be able to hold it.
“I’m ready, I'm ready,” she chanted.
He grunted in her ear “Fuck, baby. Come with me, please come with me,”
His body stilled as her own trembled, orgasm washing over her and his arms tightened around her body and pulled her down, holding her as close as possible to his chest, pressing her hips against him until there was no space left between them.
His breath was hot on her neck when he buried his face in it, spilling everything inside of her.
Their moans filled the room, now joining the chirping of the early morning birds. Soft sun rays lighting the room and hitting their bare skin.
Mr. Malfoy calmed his breaths alongside hers and peppered kisses along her shoulders, a hand rubbing her back in a soothing way. Her heartbeat still hammered inside her chest and it echoed into his.
He calmed her down with his hands and his lips, whispered praises along her skin.
“That's it… You were so good for me.” She hummed in content, her cheek pressed against his shoulder.
His chest expanded against hers before breathing out, not exhausted sigh and not in a bad way just— “Thank you, baby.”
She lifted her head from his neck and looked into his eyes, her brain started to acknowledge the pain on her legs from the position, as she hadn’t noticed in the haze of their pleasure.
“What for?” She whispered and he raised an eyebrow, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“For letting me be inside of you.”
Her eyes widened and she blushed, like he wasn’t still buried inside of her.
“Oh…”
He tilted his head, contemplating her blush and expression for a moment.
“I enjoyed having sex with you. You know that?”
She wasn’t the most confident person on earth but his spent inside of her told her that he really did enjoy it.
“I might’ve overstepped with some things I said but this was not something I did to you.” Oh, when he asked what was happening to her.
“Oh yes, of course,” she cleared her throat, “Why would I think otherwise?” She had just enjoyed dirty talk.
“I don't know,” he shrugged, not in a dismissive way but rather timid, “I just wanted you to know that.”
She smiled at him “I loved everything you did.” She soothed him and he seemed to relax, so she took that as a cue that que should bend to kiss him once more.
He seemed to melt under her embrace and he tightened his hold around her.
“My legs are killing me.” She whispered because now she really felt it and he huffed a laugh.
“Sorry—here,” he effortlessly lifted her off his cock. Drawing the sheets back, he helped her onto her back and arranged her head on his pillow before laying next to her.
She turned around as the sleep washed over her, she didn’t know if he liked to cuddle or even sleep next to someone after his wife so she settled on her side of the bed, content that she had been able to feel him.
“What are you doing?” He asked.
“Uh—um.. sleeping?”
“For fucks sake, come here.” His arm draped over her waist and she felt herself being pulled to the middle of the bed, colliding with his muscular but oddly soft front. He hummed in her neck, murmured words that barely made it out of his mouth. His hand splayed softly in her stomach, slowly brushing his fingers over her skin.
It was mere seconds, her body didn’t even manage to be surprised by his actions or the gentle kiss to her neck, because the moment he pressed her against him, she was already falling asleep.