She gave a faint gasp and nodded. Because it was. No pain. It was just good.
“This is good,” she said, gripping him by the shoulders. She could feel the scars from his runes under her fingers.
His forearms were around her head as though framing her, and his fingers were twisted in her hair. When he started to move, he pressed his forehead against hers.
When he kissed her, it felt like the beginning of something that could be eternal.
At first, it was so gradual she almost forgot that there was more to it. It could have stayed like that, and it would have been enough. The weight, and warmth, and sensation of his skin against hers. She breathed in against his shoulder; he smelled like oakmoss with the undertones of cedar and papyrus sedge. Underlying it was the scent and taste of his sweat.
Her association with beds was as a place of last resort; where everything was cold and empty, and she hoped that whatever nightmare came wouldn't be so awful she'd regret lying down at all.
There wasn't any cold here. The whole world had ceased to exist beyond Draco and his body against and inside her. He knew how to slide his hands across her skin so that she was gasping, kiss her so she wrapped her legs tightly around his waist, and move inside her so slowly that at first she didn't even notice the coiling tension inside of her.
But of course there was more, and Draco was looking for it. All his meticulous attention to when her breath caught, and what angle made her move in response. Watching her eyes, entwining his fingers with hers and noting when her hold tightened.
He kissed her and he kissed her. Slowly, the pace, and the friction, and the contact increased and grew into something more than comforting.
But when he slid his hand between her legs, she flinched. She wasn't sure if she could do that part.
It was too—
The last time when he had put his hand there—
“You're no threat to my job now, are you?”
She gave a stifled sob and turned her head away. He stilled, withdrew his hand and cradled her face, kissing her.
“You get this part. This is yours,” he said.
“I just — I don't know how to do any of this. The way the books explain it isn't the same,” she said, drawing her chin down and speaking quickly. “And last time, when you touched me there — no one ever had before and when you did you said—” her voice broke off. “I always — think about it now. That I'm — that I'm — that I'm—”
“I'm sorry,” he said, and his hand entwined with hers tightened. “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I've ruined so much of this for you. Let me give you this. Let me show you what it's supposed to be like.”
She hesitated for a moment before she gave a cautious nod.
He dipped his head so that his mouth was near her ear. “Close your eyes.” His breath whispered against her skin.
Her eyes fluttered closed, and he kissed her.
Without being able to see, everything felt more focused on the sensation. The way his body was pressed against hers. The scent of him. Even the movement of the air.
When she felt his lips brush against the pulse-point of her throat, she moaned. His hand cupped her breast, and he dragged his thumb over her nipple as he started to move inside her again. He was slow but unrelenting, until she was gasping and arching her hips to meet his.
He kissed her as he slid his hand between their bodies again. His tongue slid against hers as he deepened the kiss, and his fingers found the sensitive cluster of nerves between her legs. She gasped raggedly against his lips as she felt her whole body tense under and around him.
It was as though she were being wound tight somewhere inside. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest. Her breath kept growing shorter and shorter, and her muscles grew more taut. There was fire inside of her nerves. Everytime Draco moved inside her, or brushed his lips across her skin, or lightly teased her centre, she felt as though he were ratcheting up a tension inside her, notch by notch, until she was on the verge of breaking under him.
But she couldn't—
If she broke, there would never be anyone to pick up the pieces.
She stayed suspended on the very edge. “I can't—” she finally gasped out.
“Hermione,” Draco's lips brushed against her cheek. “You get to have this. You're allowed to feel good things. Don't be alone. Have this — have this with me.”
He pulled her leg up with his arm; it deepened and shifted the angle, drawing the tension inside her further up, and he crushed their bodies together and kissed her.
Her eyes suddenly shot open. She stared into his eyes as her whole world suddenly shattered into shards of silver.
“Oh god—,” she sobbed the words out. Her fingernails sank into his back. “Oh — oh — oh god…”
His unfathomable grey eyes stared down at her and watched as she arched and her expression contorted as she came apart under him.
As she started panting and trying to catch her breath, his speed increased. Then, as he came, his mask slipped. As he met her eyes, for a moment before he buried his face in her shoulder, she saw the heartbreak in him when he looked at her.
He shifted off her and pulled the coverlet up over them. He kissed her temple. She turned to look at him and shifted closer until she was pressed against his chest.
She could feel how drained she was, sense the edge of cold that had been planted in her magic where she'd torn it open. She shivered and burrowed closer to Draco. She glanced up at him. He was staring down at her, expressionless.
She reached up and ran a finger along his cheekbone. “I think I've nearly memorised you. Especially your eyes.”
The corner of his mouth twitched, and he traced his fingers over the scars on her left wrist. “I memorised yours too.” He sighed. “I should have known — the moment I looked into your eyes, I should have known I would never win against you.”
She gave a faint smile and closed her eyes. She pressed her face against his chest and felt his heartbeat. “I always thought my eyes were my best feature.”
“One of them,” he said quietly.
She fell asleep, still drawing in the fire from him.
Chapter End Notes
Additional Illustrations:
"I'm alone too, Granger." by ceresartsy.
Draco in an Oxford Hoodie by chestercompany.
Draco finding Hermione by keeferonies-art.
Oxford Hoodie Draco by keerthi_draws.
Oxford Hoodie Draco by fleureia.
"You're allowed to have good things" by domistyping.
Because you're mine by incendiosketches
Flashback 29
March 2003
When she woke in the morning, she found that she really was in a hotel with Draco. It was so surprising she thought perhaps she was still hallucinating.
She glanced about the room, trying to wrap her mind around it. She wasn't dreaming; she was really, actually in a Muggle hotel suite with Draco. A suite that he apparently occupied while wearing an Oxford hoodie.
If she were still composing a psychological sketch of him, the revelation would have required her to start a whole new notebook. Why was he there? Was it something he did often? Why on earth would he be spending the night in the Muggle world?