requirement | dramione

0.10*

october 19, 1996

Draco was still on his knees against Hermione's hips, lips drawing tedious trails down to the soft skin just centimeters above her underwear, then back up to her stomach. She had wrapped her hands tighter into his hair, pulling with a sense of soft desperation. Draco melted for that. He stomach rose and fell in deep, anticipating breaths that were enough to force a smirk onto his face. 

Her skin was luxurious and the soft breathing sounds that left her lips were deliciously pretty. It was the only word he could think to describe her. So soft and innocent.  He'd always thought so, even when they'd fought with each other for every year he could remember. It only took two glasses of Firewhiskey to make him admit it. 

"Has anyone ever eaten you out, Gryffindor?" 

"No," Her voice was just a fraction louder than a whisper. 

He hummed against her, imagining how she'd taste. So fucking good. 

"Good." He wanted to be the first. The only.

He stood up slowly and felt her small hands fall from his hair, resting on his shoulders. He didn't really care if she could taste the alcohol on his tongue or if he'd said too much, perhaps rushed too quickly, only wanted to make her feel better than anyone ever had.

It wouldn't be hard, he thought. Considering that she was a virgin. He wondered if she'd ever even touched herself, but couldn't picture her doing anything so sensual. The image made him harder than he wanted to admit. 

Draco leaned in to Hermione without haste, taking her top lip between his. He felt her breath leave as he kissed her, desperate for the feel of her lush lips. With one hand, he held her cheek, keeping them attached. With the other hand, he gripped her waist, then her hip, continuing to moving downwards until he reached her ass, palming and squeezing her as he bit her lip, tugging on the sensitive skin. 

Hermione gasped at the action, already breathless as she let Draco travel across her. 

Then, he pulled her body against his, hungry for the feeling of her. Her warmth. The tenderness of her curves even with her thinness. He wanted to map her body. Wanted to kiss every inch of her skin. He needed to. He stepped forward, pushing the girl against the wall behind her and capturing her there. Now, up against the cold stone, Draco's hand left her ass and snaked under her thin shirt. 

His lips left hers, taking a step back as he explored her skin. He could feel the goose bumps rise on the canvas that was her body as his hands traveled up her stomach. At the same time, he inspected her face; She was red, breathing heavily, and her lips were parted, eager for his kiss. 

With greedy fingers Draco cupped each of Hermione's breasts, watching as she bit her own lip. He pushed her shirt up, away from her breasts and ran one finger along the cups of her bra. In his left hand, he held the fabric of her shirt against her neck, almost blocking her breath. His right hand navigated behind her, effortlessly flicking open the single hook of her bra. He tugged at her shirt once more. 

"Take this off." Draco stepped back, giving her the room she needed to undress. 

Hermione felt herself beginning to blush even harder, if that was possible, and looked away from him. Her arms lifted, slowly and slightly. Draco noticed her hesitation and was curious to understand why. He cocked his head to the side as he began unbuttoning his jacket. 

Hermione watched his slim, skillful fingers work through the buttons with ease. Then, he slid the jacket off of his shoulders, letting it fall to the stone. Draco pulled at his slick black tie as his eyes ravaged Hermione. He twisted his neck, allowing his tie to unravel and he dragged it away from his collar. He tossed the black tie onto his discarded jacket.