Chapter Three
Draco
That Evening
“I’d ask how Granger is doing, but I rather like having my head attached to the rest of my body.”
Theo’s hand found Draco’s shoulder in a chummy smack, announcing his arrival at the swanky cigar bar the two of them frequented. He planted himself on the stool next to Draco and ordered his regular. Low lighting cast a glow across the shiny black countertop Theo was currently leaned over, grinning roguishly at the redheaded bartender, who batted her eyelashes in response.
“The polite thing is to ask how the person you are dining with is doing first, anyway,” Draco drawled, lifting his whisky glass. “I am well, thank you.”
“Good to hear.” Theo lifted his fresh glass and tapped it against Draco’s, which was still in the middle of being sipped on. The alcohol sloshed against the edges, dangerously close to spilling over.
“Thank you for that.”
“Cheers.” Theo grinned.
The bar was bustling with activity. Music played softly and smoke filled the air. Beautiful women sashayed by on the arms of expensive-looking men. Though that didn’t stop them from sending devious smiles Theo and Draco’s way. The former smiled and winked back. The latter did not.
This caught Theo’s attention immediately, and his overt gasp made Draco pinch the bridge of his nose, knowing what was coming.
“You son of bit— scratch that. Would hate to bring dear Narcissa into this.” He dramatically shook his head, hand on his heart, and started again. “You utter wanker! Don’t tell me you’ve finally realized you’re in love with the woman.”
“Theo, I—”
“We’ve all known it, to be honest. But I could tell — nay, could sense — as soon as I walked in here that something was different. And you’re not sparing a second glance at any of these—”
“I haven’t spared a second glance at anyone else for quite some time, Theodore.” Draco sighed, shooting a side-long look at his friend.
“Right, but as I said: something is different.”
Draco said nothing. He couldn’t argue with Theo, because what his friend said resonated in an unsettling way. Granger had gradually gotten underneath his skin, and though he had never truly tried to remove her, she would remain forever etched like a beautiful tattoo.
He had never attempted to fight the feelings he had for her, only because he’d never expected them to root themselves so deeply in his soul. “Until today, it had been a month since I had last seen her.”
Draco felt nausea arise in his gut as he realized he was about to pour his feelings out to his best mate. Theo was on the same train of thought and nearly choked on his drink. After collecting himself, he turned fully to Draco and was all ears. Draco rolled his eyes, but continued. “I thought of nothing but her while apart, and I assumed seeing her again would tame some of those…” Draco paused to find the words, waving a frustrated hand before dragging it down his face. “Fuck, Theo.”
Theo nodded sympathetically and patted Draco’s back. “I am a terminal bachelor, mate. I don’t know that I’ll ever know what love feels like, but you two…well, let’s say that it gives me an idea of what love looks like.”
Draco was halfway through his second day of meetings when a note floated into the large office and landed directly on the table in front of him.
“Please continue.” He motioned to the witches and wizards sitting near him who were about to wrap up a discussion on the Auror training budget.
Care to join me?
Neatly written words caused him to grin, and he excused himself, thanking the group and assuring them he agreed with the decision they had come to before striding — not very casually — to the office at the far end of the building.
Which is where Draco found himself poised behind the witch with a knack for getting him hot and bothered as she bent over her desk with her skirt lifted above her hips as he drove into her from behind.
An elegant vase of flowers teetered precariously at its place on the desk before crashing loudly to the ground. Bless that silencing charm he had decided to place when he’d barely stepped into Granger’s office and shut the door, already tugging his suit jacket from his shoulders and kicking off her heels.
“Oh,” Hermione gasped, her head lifting slightly off the parchment-littered desk so she could survey the mess of glass and petals. One heavy stroke of his hips and she dropped her head with a deep groan. “I quite — ah, yes — liked those — oh — flowers.”
Chuckling softly, Draco reached to stroke her cheek with the back of his hand. Pieces of hair fell out of the clip she wore, and her skin was flushed a delicate pink, eyelids fluttering with pleasure.
“I’ll send more.”
Something animalistic escaped both their lips when he punctuated his promise with a deep thrust.
“The delivery of said flowers caused quite a fuss in the office and — oh. ”
They were both breathless, climbing each other’s ecstasy. The desk rocked harder with each of their combined movements, and Hermione cast her arm over her head to latch her grip on the corner. Her cheek was pressed against the smooth surface. His hand made its way up her spine, fingers dancing over her skin.
“As was my plan,” he purred as he unclasped the clip in her hair and threaded his hand through the down-soft curls at the nape of her neck. The other hand left her waist and found the opening of her blouse in search of her breast, which he squeezed eagerly. She moaned deeply and responded by pressing herself back into him.
Deeper. Yes. Like that.
Did the flowers stem from something inside him resembling possessiveness? Likely. But Draco enjoyed picturing the faces of all the wizards on Hermione's floor when they got delivered directly to her desk in the middle of a work day.
He didn’t have them sent frequently. Just… once every few months. It was thoughtful and she deserved it. In a futile effort to keep some type of discretion, he never signed his name to them.
Not that he had to.
Everything continued to build. Draco’s movements grew faster and deeper; Hermione writhed against him. The desk had moved in its place considerably. Her muscles clenched and her hand scrambled to find his. Using his free hand, he found the spot between her legs that he had learned so well and with a few meticulous strokes of his fingers, her body ricocheted around his, leaving heat and earthquakes in its path.
Her orgasm was captivating, and he was in awe as she shuddered and panted. The sight was all it took for him to follow, grunting and moving into her faster. Faster, until he was consumed and tightening his hold to anchor himself.
With a long exhale, he collapsed flush against her back.
She closed her eyes and sighed contentedly beneath him, fingertips trailing over his forearm where it rested next to her head.
They stayed like that long enough to return to Earth and catch their breath.
Hermione reached for her wand lazily and flicked her wrist, vanishing the lost cause that was the flowers. “English roses are my favorite,” she murmured, peeking up at him with a conspiratorial smile. Another chuckle and he turned to press a tender kiss to her warm shoulder blade.
“I know.”