Sang Sacré

Chapter 19

As the warm morning sun filtered into the room, Hermione sighed contentedly and burrowed into her pillow. The night had passed without interruption and her eyes blinked open sluggishly after the most restful night of sleep the witch had had in a long while.

Underneath her cheek, pale skin lifted and fell as Draco slumbered on, releasing his own sleepy sigh as he pulled her tighter to him reflexively. She peered up at him, finding his face close to hers with a soft, boyish look. An almost imperceptible curve of his mouth caused her to smile warmly.

Draco, laying flat on his back, had her draped over his larger frame. Her head rested soundly on his chest, her arm wound tightly across his steadily expanding and compressing ribcage. She noted with a small blush that their legs lay tangled together under the covers. They'd fallen asleep completely naked and she admitted that the comfort she felt in his arms probably had something to do with his skin pressed so intimately against her own.

Hermione didn't want to get up yet. In the hazy atmosphere created by the sound of Draco's steady breathing, she laid contentedly surrounded by his undeniable warmth. She cuddled closer to him, hooking her ankle around the back of his opposite knee to anchor herself to him. Half-asleep, she wagered she'd be even warmer and content curled up in his heart.

Draco shifted her in his arms, pulling her all the more closer, seemingly agreeing with her assessment. He exhaled slowly, his warm breath tickling the baby hairs at her forehead, and she lazily traced patterns onto his skin with her gentle touch.

She froze sometime later when he planted a kiss on her forehead and smiled sheepishly at him "I didn't mean to wake you," she said quietly, her voice still thick with sleep.

"You didn't," his voice was just as affected. His fingers ran down her bare spine, coming to rest at the dip in her waist.

In the golden morning light, his hair shined brilliantly. As he squinted down at her, blinking slowly under heavy lids, Hermione's heart stuttered in her chest. Her eyes roamed him slowly, drinking in the utterly handsome man she got to call her own. She lingered on the sharp curve of his jaw, the bob of his throat, the broad chest she lazed on so comfortably. As she looked towards the bow of his lips, a jolt of excitement shot down to her belly as she remembered the things he'd done with his mouth the night before.

Her cheeks heated as the images shuffled through her mind and she ducked her face into the crook of his neck at his smug smirk, knowing exactly what she was thinking about. He chuckled as he leaned his cheek on her head, blowing back some stubborn curls that were in his way.

Hermione hummed in agreement, not trusting her voice to respond, and gently kissed the soft skin of his throat. His other hand slid unhurried up her thigh, his thumb brushing her skin as he held her to him possessively. She kissed further and further up his neck, sucking and biting where she found he liked best, before kissing her way to his eagerly waiting lips.

He kissed her slowly, with a passion that spoke directly to her heart and the apex of her thighs. She brought a gentle hand to his cheek, ghosting her fingers across his face before tangling in his hair and holding him close. Draco kissed her like she'd always wanted to be kissed growing up. She'd been seriously underwhelmed by the rushed, sloppy schooltime kisses she'd shared with various boys up to this point. She didn't want to feel like a secret or a timed stop before chasing a finish line.

Draco kissed her like they had all the time in the world.

But of course, they did not.

An incessant tapping floated upstairs and she broke apart from him, nearly panting from how breathless he'd made her. "I'll get it."