Perfectly in Pieces

Chapter 38: Hermione

All rights of characters and world are reserved to J.K. Rowling
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"Cinquante et un, cinquante-deux, cinquante-trois, cinquante-quatre, cinquante-cinq. Tu as cinquante-cinq ans maintenant Granger. Plus que sept autres à parcourir. Ils reviennent. Beaucoup de choses vont revenir. Je promets l'amour..."

Hermione raises her face off of his chest to look at the man holding her hand up close to his face, and gently caressing the top.
She has no idea what he is saying, but she would be lying if she said it didn't make that fire in her belly start to churn.

Gods... Just when I thought he couldn't get any sexier...

Draco turns his eyes to meet hers, and he gives her one of his soft sleepy smiles as he lifts to kiss her forehead.

"Morning."

"Mhmm good morning. What were you saying just now?"

He moves his lips to meet hers gently and softly for a few moments before pulling away.

"Just counting."

She rolls her eyes, and lifts off of him to stretch her arms above her head. He is lying no doubt, and she makes the decision right then that she will be taking up learning French as soon as she can.

"Uh huh. Sure."

He smiles and raises off of the floor, tucking a few strands of her hair behind her ear.

"Do you like it?"

"Like what, the sound of French words leaving your mouth? No, not one bit."

She doesn't say it convincingly because she doesn't want to. Honestly, she could listen to him speak the language all day. He mesmerized her with the way his lips and tongue worked differently over the sounds and verbiage of the romantic language.

"Hmmm."

He hums at her before grabbing her waist, and pulling her to straddle his lap, feeling his length against her inner thigh. That swelling, consuming fire builds.

Draco places little soft kisses below her ear, and she tilts her head to give him more access.

How is it that I never tire of you? How I never stop wanting you?

"How about if French words were leaving my mouth, and being placed on an area that seems to love when I talk to it?"

Hermione's cheeks and chest flush even before he finishes his sentence, and she hears him laugh softly against her skin.

At least she wasn't the only one who seemed to never tire.

"Do you think she would like that?" His hands move from her waist, up under the t-shirt she is wearing. They are so cool and refreshing, and make every muscle in her body relax and also fixate at the same time.

Never stop touching me Draco. You touching me makes me feel together.

"I... I think she is very sore after the last couple of days." She had lost count of how many times they had sex over the last week. Ever since their confessions to one another, and realizing that what there was between the two of them had been real for a very long time, it seemed neither of them could keep their hands off of each other.

"How many times have we... you know?" She says as he raises his face off of her neck and meets her eyes. She averts them, feeling that flush grow as he laughs again.

"So bashful... and which one?"

She turns towards him, and gives him a puzzling look. "What do you mean?"