𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐔𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍-𝘏𝘈𝘙𝘙𝘠 𝘗𝘖𝘛𝘛𝘌𝘙

Chapter 24

Lovesbitca8 TAKES CREDIT THIS IS HER WORK - FOUND ON AO3

Draco's lips dropped kisses against her neck, his hand tracing circles on her knee as her eyes read the same sentence for the sixth time.

Something about Jeremiah Jones and his brother.

She should have known from the moment that he joined her on the loveseat, innocently flipping pages in a textbook, that she wasn't going to get any work done this afternoon.

They'd made progress over the last three days, identifying seven clusters of characters and six ancient runic languages Jones had borrowed from. They were still looking for the source of the seventh cluster.

But usually after lunch, Draco would decide he'd had enough studying.

He sucked the soft skin below her jaw, and her eyes fluttered shut.

"Anything interesting, Granger?" he hummed into her throat.

"Huh?" Her fingers curled into the cover of her book. "Um, just that... Jones's brother disapproved of his views. But there's nothing about his travels, or where else he might have—"

"What a shame." His hand slid up her thigh, warm against her skin.

Hermione had chosen to wear the shorts again today. Yesterday she'd worn one of the tighter, lower-cut tops in her new wardrobe, and it had taken Draco thirty minutes of "reading" before he'd ripped the book from her hands and set her on the edge of the table, his hips slotting between her legs as his lips devoured her.

The day before, he'd been fascinated with the Muggle denims she wore, but she supposed that had something to do with all the excuses she'd found to bend for books on bottom shelves. She'd found herself with Draco Malfoy's hands on her arse as he pushed her back against the stacks, kissing her fiercely.

But today she'd chosen the shorts again. And the way his eyes had dropped to her legs when she entered the library had been worth it. But now, as his fingers rubbed circles into her inner thigh, his lips nipping against her throat, she thought maybe she was the one being seduced.

The productive parts of their day seemed to be getting shorter and shorter. "Draco—"

His mouth latched onto the dip below her jaw — his favorite spot. She'd been covering the bruises every day, and it seemed he was making it his mission to keep them there. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she sighed. The Tolbrette journal dropped to the floor with a thud.

Draco's own book snapped shut, and then his hands were twisting her on the couch, coaxing her to recline against the armrest. His lips never left her neck as the hand between her legs rose higher and higher, his other palm running over her waist.

He hovered over her, catching her lips and kissing her deeply as his fingers reached the hem of her shorts. She moaned low in her throat and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Draco slipped his palm under her lower back, pressing her close.

They should be working. She should insist that they set some kind of boundaries, no snogging before three—

His fingers slipped to the hemline of her shorts, and her mind went blank as he played with the material. Like he knew she'd worn them to test him. He teased the skin there, rubbing slow circles and inching under the fabric. His tongue dove into her mouth, dragging sighs from her chest.

He released her lips, and she murmured his name, searching for him. When he wouldn't kiss her again, her eyes flickered open, and she saw him staring down at her.

His fingers slid an inch under her shorts. "Can I?"

She tightened her arms around his shoulders and nodded. He pressed their foreheads together and watched her face as he nudged one of her thighs open.