I think about you all the time
He cornered her in the stairwell, the stairwell Hermione took specifically to avoid the Ministry lifts, the lifts she avoided so she wouldn’t bump into him.
It was as if he had anticipated her, popping out the first door she passed in her descent, hand catching her arm and swinging her into his warm embrace. One moment she was poised to take a step down to the next level, and the next she was pressed against the wall by Draco Malfoy and the full length of his impeccably fit body.
“Malfoy, we’re at work, we can’t—”
“Oh it’s ‘Malfoy’ again, is it? What happened to ‘Draco, oh, Draco, please Draco’?” He breathed into her ear, thigh pressing between her legs, driving up into her heat in just the right spot.
She couldn’t hold back the whimper that escaped, nor could she stop herself from grasping onto his shirt, fingers curling wrinkles into the expensive fabric, as she ground down onto him. His mouth slid the course of her neck, sucking bruises into the tender skin as if to claim her as his own for all to see.
“Please…Draco…” she mewled, already craving more of the touch she’d endeavored to forget. Last weekend had been a mistake of epic proportions, one fueled by loneliness and frustration and willful ignorance. If this was going to happen again, here of all places, then she might as well savor the temporary loss of sanity while it lasted.
He huffed his amusement, “There’s my girl.”
His choice of words drew her out of the cloud of lust just long enough to voice a weak protest, “I’m not your girl. Oh, fuck!”
He pinched her nipple and nipped her ear in warning.
“Tell me stop then, Granger.”
“Just because—” she groaned as he continued to drive his thigh into her clit, “—we had sex one time, doesn’t mean we’re a thing now. Don’t. Stop.”
Maybe if she just closed her eyes, she could ignore the devastatingly attractive way his platinum locks fell across his forehead, or how his light eyes pierced through her like a direct shot of adrenaline to her libido.
Of course he wouldn’t let her escape like that.
Ripping her hand off his shirt, he pressed it against his prominent bulge. “Look at me, Granger.”
Her eyes popped open, unwillingly gravitating towards his own.
“This,” he continued, squeezing his hand over hers, “is because of you. I am going out of my mind for you. I think about you all the time. I refuse for that night to be our last. I refuse to not have you every moment of every day in every single way possible.”
His hand slid to where his leg pressed against her and he pinched again hard. Hermione’s mouth dropped open as she was shoved off her reluctant perch, and he captured her cry with an open-mouthed kiss that claimed her as readily as any public declaration of love.
Once she sagged against him in defeat, he pulled back and spun her around.
“Hands up. Brace yourself.”
She scrambled to do as he ordered, pulse racing as he kicked her legs apart and pulled her skirt up to discover black lace knickers underneath.
“Oh, Granger. Not so good after all, are you?” The joy in his voice vied with the dark chuckle that followed.
She jolted as he ran a finger underneath the fabric to test her readiness. The squelch that followed told him everything he needed to know, and he swiftly tugged open his trousers to take himself in hand.
As she felt him press the head of his cock against the sodden gusset, Hermione couldn’t help but wonder again what had possessed her to sleep with him in the first place, to allow herself to be taken like this where anyone could find them. Would Draco even pause, or would he keep fucking her to completion while they watched? Why did the idea of that send another pulse of need throughout her body?
He continued to tease her entrance and leaned down over her to insert filth into her ear. “You want this, don’t you? My cock in you, taking you so hard against this wall that you forget everything but my name?”
She shook her head in a stubborn attempt to ignore the truth of the words, but she couldn’t help the way her hips swayed as he severed her knickers and tucked them into his pocket. She couldn’t help her hands fisting against the wall in preparation as he slipped just the tip inside.
His hands grasped her hips in a vice, preventing her from rocking back onto him.
“Answer me, Granger.”
She couldn’t see his smirk as she growled in frustration and tried to fight his hold.
“You have got to be kidding me.”
“I couldn’t be more serious, love.”
She stamped her heel, still refusing to give in. “Just fuck me already, Malfoy!”
At her demand, he immediately let go, but rather than press into her, he stepped away. She was left bending over alone, bare arsed and needy.
“Not until you answer me, and call me by my first name.” The tone of his voice no longer held its confident swagger. He spoke quietly in a way that had her glancing over her shoulder at him.
Even with his pants open and the instrument of his desire swollen in need, there was a tension in his body and expression that betrayed a degree of vulnerability. It was as if everything that might follow depended on her.
Hermione stood back up and faced him, ignoring the way her skirt still bunched at her waist and the open breeze between her legs. All of her focus was on the man who stood before her, cock at the ready and heart bare to her mercies.
She tilted her head in careful consideration, savoring the way his gaze stayed fixed on her own.
“What if I do want this…you? Not just now, but for real?”
How could she deny the hope that lit up his face? How could she pretend to not crave him, body and mind?
“Then I’d say, what are we waiting for?” He grinned, holding his hand out towards her in a clear request for her acceptance.
Obviously, she took it, and everything that followed after.