A/N:

This was pulled from chapter 8 of Enigma. Nothing wrong with it, I just didn't feel like it fit with the flow of that story. Works fine as a stand-alone.

To clarify this is a one-shot and will NOT be continued. Please be sure to Favorite rather than Follow!

-Nora ;)

In the early hours of the morning, the sky still a deep indigo, Hermione laid in her bed and stared at the man who slept beside her, his face just inches from her own. His breath was warm on her cheek, his skin pale as snow, almost glowing in contrast to her dark sheets and pillow covers. His silky hair, more white than blond, was perfectly tousled, making him look so achingly beautiful that she wished she had the courage to reach out and run her hands through it again. She studied his face, studied the delicate bone structure, the purplish hues in the circles of his eyes, the perfect line of his nose. He slept beside her vulnerable, unguarded and defenseless. He had given her something she had not thought anyone would give her again — trust. Without pause, Hermione had given hers back.

"Does it ever stop hurting?" she had asked him just hours ago. It was nice, really nice to be able to ask that without having to explain herself.

"No," he had said, his eyes silver in the moonlight. "But it does get better."

"How do you know?"

She remembered him pulling her close, his tall, lean body accommodating her small, miserable bones. His breath had been warm on her earlobe, brushing against her hair.

"It's certainly better now, isn't it, Granger?"

Draco Malfoy tore the fear from her bones, stripping her of the darkness that had plagued her lungs, her heart, the very nerves of her body. He was right. It did feel better — a lot better.

And that was all that had happened. They got comfortable together, settling in for a sleep that never did come for Hermione. There was too much on her mind, too much to ponder. Malfoy had rearranged the pillows on her bed the same way he had rearranged her heart. She questioned everything, from the distance of the moon to her very existence. She questioned her height, which she had once thought was quite average, but now that she lay beside Malfoy, she felt positively puny. She questioned her position as a Gryffindor, wondering how she could possibly be in the right House, seeing as how she was easily the biggest coward in all of Hogwarts now. She questioned the direction her life had taken since the war, stealing the future she had always thought she would have. But mostly, Hermione Granger questioned her feelings for the exquisite, soft-spoken man that slept beside her.

She was just thinking how peculiar her night had been when an arm suddenly snaked around her, pulling her against a warm, hard body. Hermione let out a gasp, feeling a drop in her stomach that she couldn't describe having ever felt before. It was pleasure, pure pleasure. She trembled, betrayed by her own body.

"Enjoying yourself, Granger?" Malfoy asked, his voice thick with sleep.

She shook her head, unable to put a sentence together in fear of giving herself away. No way did Draco Malfoy need to know that he had this much control over her.

She saw him open a single eye, clearly amused by the blush that spread across her face.

Gathering the last of her courage, Hermione asked the question that had been burning inside her all night.

"What are we doing, exactly?"

Heat spread through her body when Malfoy slipped his hand under her shirt, resting it hot against her abdomen.

"What do you want us to be doing?" His voice was still groggy, but there was an undeniable sexiness in the drawl.

"I-I don't know," Hermione answered honestly.

When he began to withdraw his hand, she instinctively stopped him. The desire ruptured through her, taking control of her mind. The sane part of her was fighting it, but these days she was more senselessly crazy than anything. She was going to give in. She knew it, had perhaps known it for a long time. That was why she had stared for all those weeks, wasn't it? Somewhere deep inside of the corners of her fucked up mind, she had wanted him. Badly.

"You'd better let me go, Granger," he said, making movement to get up. He propped himself up on one elbow, looking down at her with an expression that seemed to say exactly what she feared it would say. It's your call.

"Why?" she asked, hoping to Merlin himself that she was sounding coy.

"Because," he said, bringing his face impossibly close to hers. "I'm not going to be able to control myself for much longer."

"Then don't," she whispered, surrendering to the storm.

A moment later his lips were hot against hers, one hand snaking deliciously into her hair while the other travelled up under her shirt, making her moan right into his mouth. He kissed her with reckless abandon, rough and with a frenzy that told her immediately what his intentions were — intentions that mirrored her own. She nearly cried from need when his hand brushed against the underside of her breast, lust driving all her thoughts to places she hadn't thought she'd possessed. She was certainly no virgin, but she had never felt herself ache this badly before. For a moment she thought of Ron, her heart cracking from the thought that they had never shared this passion, but then Malfoy cupped her breast and she lost all train of thought.

"Gods, Granger," he said, suddenly pulling back. His lips were swollen, his face flushed with color. His eyes violated her, looking places she hadn't seen him look before. She didn't protest when he grasped the ends of her shirt and pulled it over her head. Embarrassed that she hadn't thought to wear a bra, Hermione crossed her arms to shield herself from his heated gaze.

"I want you," he said, his eyes dark. He pulled off his own shirt and took hold of her wrists, pulling them away to pin on either sides of her head, exposing her. "I want you so bad that it's killing me." He lowered himself down closer to her, his hard chest pressing against her tender nipples.

"Draco," she gasped, pleasure spiking in her veins.

"Gods, yes," he growled, "say it again."

She couldn't find her voice. It just felt so good. His body was perfect— lean, toned, chiseled with abs, and sporting an Adonis belt that she hadn't even known was hidden under his shirt. He'd looked so skinny to her, willowy and tall, that the very sight of him naked was a complete surprise. His waist was trim, and fighting against all fear, she wrapped her legs around him, pulling him close until she felt the unmistakable bulge of his manhood.

"Say my name," he commanded, grinding himself between her legs, soaking her right through her panties.

"Fuck!" she cried, feeling a clench deep in her body. He wasn't even inside her and she was already about to come undone.

Draco laughed. "That works too, I suppose."

She was so lost in her lust for him that she didn't even know how to reply, instead relying on her body to convey the message. He was close to her, so close that she could press her mouth hotly to his neck. He let out a soft hiss when she kissed him there, sucking on his skin until his grip on her wrists tightened. She grazed her teeth against his skin, testing his patience. In an instant he was pulling her pants down, her panties in his fist, ripping them from her body. Bingo.

"I'm going to fuck you," he whispered darkly into her ear, kicking his pants off. "I'm going to fuck you so hard you'll scream my name. I'll make you."

"My wand," she gasped. "I need my wand."

He lifted an eyebrow, looking so sexy that she nearly came just from the sight of him. Wordlessly he took her wand from her bedside table and passed it to her, his hand lingering against hers, rubbing down her wrist, her forearm, going and going until he cupped her breast, pinched her nipple and ground it between his fingertips, eliciting a moan from so deep in her throat that she wasn't even sure if it belonged to her.

"Muffliato," she managed to say before he took her wand and all but flung it across the room.

He forced her legs apart, rubbed her pussy, his hands instantly sticky and wet, and curved two long, slender fingers inside of her. He fingered her very slowly at first, testing the limits of her small body.

"Tight," he said, curling his fingers until he found that spot. "I'll have you coming in no time." The cockiness made him sound arrogant, and it turned her on even more. He was bad and that was exactly what she wanted right now.

"Wonder how fast you'll—" he applied pressure to her g-spot, hammering against it hard and fast. Within seconds she came, gushing onto his hand, tears slipping from the corners of her eyes as the pleasure coursed through every nerve in her body. Her breaths were raspy, her legs shaking as he withdrew his fingers and without a second thought, slipped them into her open mouth. She tasted herself, salty, musky, and faintly sweet.

"Do you have any idea how hot you are?"

Hermione trembled. No, she hadn't thought that at all. She hadn't thought that anyone even noticed her anymore.

"Oh," he said in realization. He smirked, jerking her down by the hips. "You really do have no idea," he said, spreading her legs wide open, "It's kind of sexy that you don't."

It was then that she saw his cock, engorged, thick and long. Her mouth hung open in shock. It wasn't fair for any one person to be that blessed. Rich, smart, handsome and well-endowed? It intimidated her. How could he possibly want her?

"You're thinking too much," he said, reading the worry on her face. "But that's okay," he said, taking his cock in his hand to rub against the slit of her wet, aching pussy, "I'll make you forget."

"Are you sure you want me?" she asked, unable to help herself.

"Is that really in question?" He pressed his hard cock to her clit, making her jolt in surprise.

"Draco," she gasped, her hands reaching to find him. She clutched his arms, gripping them tight. The Dark Mark was on his left forearm, rippling as his muscles tensed. She once would have been concerned to find herself naked beneath a Death Eater, but now, under such precarious circumstances, she was inclined to make an exception. It was a life he'd been born into, but not one he wanted. She knew that now.

"I'm right here," he said, taking his cock in his fist. He rubbed it once, twice, against her pussy before finding her entrance, hot and quivering to receive him. "Tell me you want this," he said, his voice hoarse. "I need to hear you say it."

"I need you to fuck me," she said, wild with need. "Please."

"Polite," he said almost casually, his expression instantly pained as he sunk into her. He hitched one of her legs higher and nuzzled his face against her neck, his breathing labored. "You dangerous little witch," he growled, kissing along her jaw. "You'll be the death of me." Then he pressed his lips to her mouth, his kisses wet and burning.

There was a difference between full and filled, and Hermione definitely was filled. She could almost swear that she could feel the angry veins of his cock, throbbing inside of her as her body tried to accommodate his monstrous size. Hot as he was, bad as he was, there was a swelling in her heart when she realized that he was waiting for her, allowing her to get used to the huge cock inside of her. He was big enough to crush her, but he hovered over her, his body pressing against her in only a slight pressure. She could see in his face that it took great personal restraint to be inside of her without moving a muscle.

"Is that it?" she asked, a sly smile crossing her face.

"Don't test me, woman," he snarled, lifting his hips to pull back and enter her again with such force that a loud smack reverberated through the room.

"Draco," she cried out, her body shaking.

"That's it," he groaned, driving into her again. He drew his name from her lips over and over again as he fucked her tight, small pussy, lost to her as she to him. He pounded into her, fast, hard, deep. His movements were calculated, rhythmic and gloriously victorious in causing her pussy to tighten over the thick length of his cock. She was sensitive from the friction, every motion making a place deep in her belly seize with pleasure.

"Ungh," she rasped, her fingernails sinking into his skin.

Draco lifted her legs higher, threw them over his arms and expertly pressed his cock against her g-spot. She shuddered, suddenly fearful of what was about to happen to her. She'd never been fucked this way before, had never felt anything this maddeningly good.

"I always thought you were so innocent," he said into her ear, grinding into her g-spot as she cried out. "That's why it feels so good to ruin you like this."

Then he pounded into her, rutting into her so hard that she was screaming his name, just as he promised that she would. It was painful, so painful to be hammered so hard against her g-spot, and at the same time it was the best thing she'd ever felt in her life. His cock was thick inside of her, taking up all the space, leaving nothing and taking everything.

"Draco," she cried, her pussy already beginning to clench. "I'm going to cum, I'm going to —"

He gripped her hips and drove against her hard as she screamed, cumming all over his cock, blinding white light in her vision, her entire body quivering, shuddering. He let out a tortured groan into her ear, his body tensing as he came inside of her, spurting jets of thick, hot cum into her contracting pussy, milking him of every drop.

Gasping, he pulled out of her and rolled over beside her, pulling her into his arms as he did so. They both panted together, and it made Hermione feel… surreal. She was certain that she hadn't had real sex before, not after this experience. Her entire body tingled in the aftermath of the most powerful orgasm she had ever had in her life. The feelings that swept through her were both confusing and comforting all at once. She could feel herself slipping away, becoming someone strange and unrecognizable, but she couldn't seem to shake the thought that perhaps this may be who she was meant to be. She had spent so much of her life trying to be that she hadn't thought to just... be.

She'd given a part of herself to Draco Malfoy — maybe even all of herself, and it was something she could never take back. Why didn't it concern her? Why did it feel so damn good? The strange fluttering was in the pit of her belly again, filling her with so much pleasure that she could hardly think straight.

Draco gave her shoulders a tight squeeze as he held her, his face buried into her wild, tangled hair. She could hear his breath, almost a wheeze, and was suddenly overcome with a powerful urge to laugh. Unable to stop herself, she let out an embarrassing giggle.

"That bad, huh?" He nuzzled into her neck. "You wound me, Granger."

"Oh, terrible," she said with a wide grin. "Worst shag of my life."

He turned, taking her face in his hands, his gray eyes looking warm for the first time.

"You aren't who I thought you were," she admitted, blushing deeply.

There was such tenderness in his eyes that she felt as if her heart may burst.

"And you're exactly who I thought you were," he said softly.

Then he kissed her, his thumbs rubbing against her cheek, wiping away the tears that she hadn't even known she was crying. It was there, lying in the arms of the man she had once hated, that Hermione Granger realized that she was a goner. She had it bad for him. Really bad.

A/N: To read more about the Draco and Hermione from this story check out Enigma