The Book of Duality
“Ah, there she is!” Draco exclaimed as he walked up to Hermione. “My beautiful wife,” he said with a smitten smile. He tried to disguise the shiver calling her his wife sent down his spine by gesturing to her.
Hermione turned to greet Draco and the man accompanying him. “Gentlemen,” she said while running a hand down her leg to straighten her dress. Her strategically chosen gown showed off a near-egregious amount of her breasts, but at a (mostly) muggle gala, it was perfectly acceptable.
The slit up the side of her dress, however… that still boarded on scantily inappropriate.
“Mrs. Meyers,” the man beside Draco leaned down to kiss Hermione’s outstretched hand. “A pleasure.”
“The pleasure is all mine, sir,” Hermione replied, looking at him through hooded eyes. Draco felt his blood boil with a familiar friend. Jealousy. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll fetch us another drink. Whisky, love?” she asked Draco.
Draco hummed in response, swooping down to kiss her on the forehead, lingering a tad too long, before she headed toward the bar. Their cover had to remain in tack, which meant Draco got to hold Hermione a little closer, kiss her in public, and not have to hide his adoration behind his occlumency.
“Say,” the gentleman beside Draco said with a clasp on his back. “Shall we talk business in the library?”
“Let’s,” Draco replied, quickly making eye contact and winking at her. Their secret code.
The walk to the library was a blur. Between his jealousy over Granger and the way she looked in that goddamn dress… red really was her color. Before he could register the hallways taken, Draco was in a sizeable (but not nearly as big as his) library.
“In all honesty,” Draco started, steadying himself to look powerful, obscenely wealthy, and dangerous. “I didn’t come here without intentions. I hear you have The Book of Duality and I would like it.”
The man laughed, “Well, Mr. Meyers, I'll need something spectacular for a prize such as that. What’s say… a run at your girl?”
Draco froze. Anger began seeping through him, and he could feel his face slip from calm and uninterested to furious. “A run at my girl?” he spit out, enunciating each word. “How dare you speak of my wife like that,” he seethed, stepping closer to the man.
“Calm down, now,” the man said while raising his hands. “You can’t seriously keep her all to yourself. I mean, her legs are enough to get a man off, let alone her ti-,” Draco’s hand was around his throat, pushing him into a bookshelf.
“I’d be very careful,” Draco spoke in a low tone, his voice possessive and deadly. “Before you say anything else about my wife.”
“Well, he’s not wrong is he darling?” a voice called behind him. Draco turned to see Hermione Granger in all her glory. She sat crossed-leg on an expensive-looking chaise, letting the silk of her dress fall, a dangerous amount of her thigh showing. Her arms were crossed, pushing her breasts together. “I do have fantastic legs.”
With that she stood, her dress skirt falling gently into place as she walked closer to Draco and the man. When she was close enough, she beckoned Draco to let go of the man's neck. Mumbling, Draco moved his hand from the man's neck and draped it around Hermione’s waist, pulling her closer to him, his hand spread protectively on her hip.
Hermione moved even closer to the man, so close that if she moved one more inch their lips would touch. Draco’s grip on her turned predatory, bruising. There’s no way…
“Tell me where the book is,” she whispered to the man, “And I’ll let you do whatever you’d like to me.”
Draco growled.
Hermione silenced him with a hand movement.
The man groaned. “It’s on the shelf. Top corner.”
Draco reluctantly took a step back before whipping around, snatching the book, and was about to take his place behind Hermione when she said, “You can sit on the couch, love,” over her shoulder. Her carefully styled curls lightly swayed as she glanced back at him. Draco grit his teeth and forced himself to sit on the couch, his hands fisted at his sides and body humming with jealousy and the urge to claim her. He could feel his nails cutting into his skin. Was she really about to fuck this man in front of him? Her husband?
He took a deep breath to settle and remind himself that he was not Hermione Granger’s husband. He was nowhere close. He was simply her Auror partner.
But at least tonight he got to pretend.
He got to hold her, spin her, and tell her how beautiful she looked. He got to kiss her forehead, hold her hand, and call her his wife. It made his heart jump and his knees weak.
But it wasn’t real.
He closed his eyes, focusing on taking calming breaths, but was finding it increasingly difficult because Granger had just turned to ask, “Well? How would you like me?” to a man who was not him.
“Bent over the desk,” the man said. “If your husband’s going to watch, you’ll have to tell him to open his eyes. I want him to look you in the face while I fuck you,” the man’s laugh sent a shock of possessiveness through Draco. It felt like he’d been splashed with cold water.
He heard her before he felt her. Hermione was leaning over him, her fingers lightly under his chin, drawing his head up. He opened his eyes, hoping he was conveying his emotions to her: Please, don’t do this.
A sly smirk danced across her face as Hermione winked at him, saying “Keep your pretty eyes open for me, love.”
And even though it was a horrible situation Draco had found himself in, her words sent a jolt to his cock and he found himself unable to look away. She walked back to the man, gently setting a hand on his chest and leaning close to his ear as she pulled her wand from a hidden pocket in her dress.
He didn’t hear her stupify him, but the unmistakable sound of a body thunking on the floor was all the proof he needed.
“Oh, thank fuck,” Draco muttered, tearing his eyes away from Hermione and her mischievous smile to the man who now lay, stupified, on the library floor. After another couple of flicks of her wand, the man had disappeared.
“Best if he doesn’t remember this and wakes up in his own bed,” she said. “You didn’t actually think I would let him fuck me, did you?”
Draco let out a breathy laugh. “I hoped not,” he stood and handed her the book which she slipped into her magically expanded bag. “Especially not in front of me.”
Hermione hummed in response. “You know,” she still had a mischievous glint in her eye. “Fucking in a library is on my bucket list.”
Draco felt his heart stammer. “Fucking you in that dress is on mine.”
Something flashed in Hermione’s eyes. Draco imagined it was similar to what flashed in her eyes when she rode that dragon out of Gringotts. One day it might flash in her eyes when she rode a different kind of dragon.
“Are you going to stand there and fuck me with your eyes, Malfoy, or are you going to use your cock at some point?” she said, smiling while brushing her curls off her neck. Her words were all he needed to hear to be pushed into motion.
Draco snatched her hand and apparated it while he pulled her closer. When they landed, he grabbed her waist, steadied her, and began walking her backward, pushing her toward the desk a few meters away. “Here’s the thing, love,” he said, “When I fuck my wife, I’m going to fuck her in my library.”
“Still you’re wife, am I?”
“Mmm,” he hummed, his lips already trailing down her jaw, cock hardening by the second. “More like I’m your husband. Everyone knows you run this relationship.” He punctuated his sentence with a light bite to her pulse point.
“Lucky me,” she muttered in his ear.
Hermione’s thighs hit the desk and Draco took her gasp as an opportunity to kiss her fully. He picked her up and placed her on the desk, spreading her legs so he could stand in between them. She moved to lean back on her elbows, and Draco let his hand fall from the side of her neck to gently run down her body, fingers gently grazing her sternum and stopping when they hit the dip in her dress.
“Yes,” he said, a burning intensity in his eyes as he looked at her, draped over this ancient desk that he’d been dreaming of fucking her on, maroon silk sliding up her thighs, heels dangly loosely on her feet. She looked delicious.
She looked like she belonged there in the Malfoy library. A permanent household fixture.
She was wearing a gold necklace with a simple diamond close to her throat.
She was missing a gold ring. A not-so-simple diamond sat close to her hand by way of her ring finger.
Tonight, she had transfigured her Auror badge to a simple gold band settled snuggly against a ruby-red stone that was truly only an eighth of the size she deserved. It looked like a class ring to him, but she had spun a story to party-goers about how it was her grandmother's antique. Believable.
Not what he dreamed about putting on her finger.
“Yes, what?” she asked, tilting her head to the side.
“Yes, I am going to use my cock at some point,” he kneeled in front of her, grabbing her thighs and tugging her closer to the edge. “But first,” he said with a lick of his lips, “I’ve been dying to taste your cunt since I saw you in that dress.”
“Well,” Hermione replied, pushing herself higher to see his face. He could barely see her face over her tits. Draco felt his cock grow even harder. “I have a surprise for you then.”
Draco quirked a brow, his fingers still lightly trailing paths up Hermione’s thigh and towards her cunt. However, as he continued his trajectory up her leg and was continuously met with bare skin, he found himself pausing. “All for me?” he asked.
“More like none for you, but yes,” she replied with a smile. “I was hoping to get fucked by a sex god again tonight.”
Draco was hardly listening, lightly running his nose up her thigh as he inched closer and closer to her naked center. He heard her shuddered breath and groaned. Reaching up a hand and placing it on her chest, he gently pushed he down until she was lying on the desk while her legs hooked around his back and gently ran up toward his shoulders. He heard her heels fall to the floor as her hand intertwined with his, holding it tight to her chest.
“Lay back for me love,” he mumbled into her thighs. Her response was gripping his hand tighter.
Without warning, Draco licked a thick, slow stripe up her. Hermione moaned, back arching, which was all it took to make him lose all control. His hand that wasn’t held by her wrapped around her thigh to tightly secure her in place and he dove into her cunt, licking and sucking without restraint. He listened and felt for her reactions until he learned the best way to get her off.
She loved confident strokes of the tongue, quick but intentional. She loved his lips wrapped around her clit. But, it seemed most of all, she loved when he couldn’t help groaning into her, lost between her lips, vibrating through her.
She always gripped him tighter when he did that.
She was perfect.
She was so fucking wet.
She tasted like heaven and sin. Heaven because she was an angel, a goddess, the perfect piece of heaven. Sin because it was a sin he hadn’t made her his own. Because he knew he wouldn’t be able to give her up.
He could think of more than one way to atone.
Draco pulled back slightly before looking up at her. Her dress was out of place and wrinkled, but this was the best she’d looked in it all night. Certainly better than how she looked when he thought she’d be sleeping with another man. The sight of her alone was enough to drive him back into her and gently guide his tongue across her folds.
He got to work, tracing letters over and over against her, changing speed and pressure, gently tracing her clit, until she was shaking underneath him. He could feel her legs shaking against his face and arms but didn’t care. He was determined to make her fall apart under his tongue before he did anything else.
With the final swipe of the “U”, she shattered, gushing across his face and he greedily licked it up.
Atonement via secret confession that pushed her to an orgasm.
She was panting with a dazed look in her eye as she used the hand she was still holding to drag Draco towards her.
“What were you spelling?” she asked while she caught her breath, catching him off guard.
“What?”
“What were you spelling? I couldn’t figure it out.”
Draco chuckled and grabbed her left leg, gently massaging her calves. “Nothing, Granger,” he said. “Just random patterns.”
It wasn’t true, of course. He’d been writing I love you with his tongue across Granger’s cunt for the past several minutes, hoping that the more he wrote it that it would seep into her skin, her brain, her being. Leave it to her to figure out he was writing something. He switched from her left calf to her right one, keeping a steady pressure that was sure to work all the tension from them.
“Hmm,” she remarked but began leaning back while running her left foot gently up his leg towards his cock. “I seem to remember the bucket list item to be fucking me in this dress… husband.”
Draco was very proud to have never even worried that he was about to come in his pants. The realization that he might, just from her saying the word husband was jarring, but not entirely unwelcomed. He felt his body jerk towards her and his eyes glazed over. The “fuck me” eyes Granger kept looking at him with while biting that perfect fucking red-painted lip wasn’t helping.
Draco felt himself lurch forward, bracketing her in between his arms against the desk. “Granger,” he growled. “Don’t call me that.” He’d felt possession over her, the unyielding desire to have her, fuck her, be hers.
But never like this.
The surge that came over him when she called him her husband… he needed biblically. Every day, for as long as they both shall live and then some. He swore to himself then and there that death would not do them apart.
She looked momentarily shocked before schooling her face. “I’m sorry, Draco, I didn’t mean to cross any lines… I can just go if you’d rather-”
Draco lifted his hand to rest on her neck, effectively stalling her words and forcing her to meet his eyes. He watched as hers darkened, obviously enjoying his hand placement. “Not for the reasons you think,” he gently pulled her closer and brought his nose to her neck, inhaling deeply before moving to her ear. “Say that again, and I swear to you Hermione Granger… I’ll either come or fuck you until you truly do believe you’re my wife. Maybe both,” he hissed into her ear. Definitely both.
She gasped quietly. Maybe that was too honest of him, but if she was going to joke then the consequences needed to be clear. He gently moved her to lay back down against the desk, removed his hand from her throat, and began undoing his buckle.
Hermione reached up and pushed his suit jacket off and began unbuttoning his shirt, unhooking the last button just as Draco pulled his cock out. She moved to unzip her dress but Draco grabbed her hand.
“Leave it on,” the demand fell from his lips before he realized what he was saying.
“It’ll get ruined, it’s silk.”
“I’ll buy you a new one.”
“Draco,” she started, “You don’t have to treat me like I’m your-”
“Shut up,” he hissed. Jealousy surged through him. At who, he wasn’t sure. All he knew was whoever Hermione’s husband was in the future, he wanted to fucking kill that guy. “I said, Granger, that I’d buy you a new dress.” Her eyes seemed to soften as she nodded. “My wife gets new dresses whenever she’d like, especially when I ruin one,” he muttered quietly, half hoping she would hear, half hoping she wouldn’t.
If she did, she didn’t say anything. Just wrapped her legs around his waist as he pushed the silk of her dress up to expose her to him. He lined his cock up to her and looked up, wanting to watch her eyes as he entered her.
She was stunning. Hair formed a curly halo around her as she laid back, breasts half falling out of the top of the dress, red silk bunched as her waist, eyes looking at him with nothing but desire. Her red lipstick was fading, but still there. He wanted to kiss it off.
But best of all, she was on display for him across an antique desk in the Malfoy family library. He’d have to figure out a way to get her back here.
As he looked down at her, he couldn’t help but feel his heart clench. Tonight, them playing married and being husband and wife, her pretending to love him. He needed the real version more than he needed to breathe.
And here she was, laid out beneath him looking every inch of expensive, and ladylike, a his that she should be.
He slowly began to push into her as he rested his hand across her throat again, keeping their eyes locked the whole time. He felt her clench around him, fluttering in patterns that happened to match his pounding heart.
“F-fuck, Hermione,” he gasped as he continued pushing deeper into her. “J-just like that, love,” he muttered, leaning down to kiss her forehead, hand moving from her neck to her hair. His grip tightened in her curls and he pushed her forehead against his. “That’s it, Gra-Granger, I-” she felt too fucking good. The words got caught in his throat.
When his pelvis met hers, she switched from light gasps to moans, her eyes rolling back in her head.
He was so fucked.
He quickly picked up the pace to the point where it was almost punishing, leaning down to get as close to her as possible. In his mind, he imagined he was punishing himself for not marrying her. For not having her to himself. For treating her so poorly in school instead of groveling at her feet for an ounce of her attention.
Her moans and gasps of his name were increasingly distracting to his intrusive thoughts. He found himself slowing his pace, dragging out her cries for him and losing himself in the daydream that this was normal for them - not as Auror partners but as husband and wife.
He pulled almost all the way out of her and paused, sending her writhing and moaning for him. Her pleas - please Draco, please I’m begging you - he knew would fuel his fantasies for multiple months.
As Draco slowly pushed back into her, completely enveloped by her gorgeous cunt, he felt it again. The possessiveness he’d been trying to quell roared through him, igniting primal desires and making him desperate to have her.
He snatched her hand away from where it had been resting on his chest. Pushing up from leaning against her, he yanked the transfigured ring off her hand with a growl. “You’re not wearing this anymore,” he said, command rippling through his tone as Hermione lay panting underneath her.
Chucking her ring - now badge - across the room, he moved her hand to his cheek. She instinctively moved to cup his jaw, thumb running over his lip. Her eyes flared with an emotion he couldn’t identify as he paused, cock still fully immersed in her clenching cunt, and pulled his signet ring off his left pinky finger.
He turned, pressing a kiss to her palm before pulling her hand away from his face and pushing his ring on her left ring finger. There was a soft glow of magic as it adjusted to fit her finger. Hermione inhaled a shaking breath, but Draco was quick to bury his face in her hair as he began moving again.
“Marry me, be my wife, I love you, Hermione please, be my wife,” he muttered into her curls.
She didn’t hear him.
He felt her nails drag down his back as she moaned his name, sending a shudder down his spine. He felt her heels dig into his back, pushing him deeper into her, and gods she felt good.
“Gods, Draco,” she groaned. “Fuck me the way a husband fucks his wife. Fuck me like you’d fuck your wife,” he was teetering, his mind silently begging her not to say it but his body needing her to. “Husband of mine,” she finished with a whisper.
He had to get her off first was his only thought as he fucked her, strumming her clit in the same way he felt he was strumming himself along to her.
She came screaming his name, her hand - graced with his ring, his ring - raking through his hair, tugging at it as she gasped for anything to ground her to reality. He fell after her, the squeeze of her cunt too good, the sound of her saying husband echoing in his head.
They laid afterward across the desk, him still inside her as he leaned down, arms bracing so he wasn’t leaning too far into her. She was breathing heavily while gently rubbing from his neck down his arm and back again.
“So,” she started. “You’re into roleplay.”
“Please,” he forced himself to scoff. “All we do is roleplay. It comes with the job.” Emotion flickered behind her eyes, but he refused to let himself think too much about it. “But you,” he leaned down to nuzzle her nose. “You’re into… choking? Or just a hand on your neck?”
She rolled her eyes and looped her hands around his neck while pulling herself into a sitting position, forcing him to move upright and bring her with him. With a muttered breath and flick of her wrist, a piece of parchment appeared beside her.
As he watched as she magically crossed off fucking in a library from her apparently real bucket list, he couldn’t help but chuckle. She flashed him a grin before gently tugging his ring off her finger and pushing it onto his pinky. The action made his heart drop.
“Thanks for letting me borrow this,” she said as Draco gently pulled out of her. “I know it’s important to you.”
“Trust me when I say, you can borrow it anytime, Granger,” he replied with confidence, hoping his desperation to keep her here wasn’t seeping through. Before he could think too much about it, he leaned down and kissed her forehead.
She smiled at him before standing, grabbing her badge, and walking towards the floo. “Oh, Malfoy?” she called over her shoulder. “Nice library,” she finished with a wink. He found himself at a loss for words but did find it in him to give her a smirk. Before he knew it, she was gone with a flash.
“Fuck!” he yelled, raking his hands through his hair and hoping he didn’t ruin it all. The urge to call her his wife felt stronger once she left. Unmarked, unclaimed his brain reminded him.
But she wasn’t his to mark. Wasn’t his to claim.
Not now, anyway. But he could hope.