A/N: This piece is unbeta'd and clumsily written. Forgive my mistakes; I own them all. Happy Birthday, Draco!
The ice in his tumbler clinked as Draco lifted his drink to his lips. With a wince, he swallowed the remainder of his drink and slammed it down, signaling to the waitress that he was more than ready for another.
This was the absolute last place he wanted to spend his birthday. A last minute business trip had canceled his dinner reservations with his wife and kids and instead landed him in Paris— alone. Alone and thirty. What a fucking thing to be.
But if he was going to be alone and thirty, he was at least going to be deliriously pissed drunk. He'd packed a Hangover Draught for this reason and his seven o'clock meeting be damned.
Next to him, his glass was delivered and he grumbled his thanks without looking up. His attention stayed thoroughly buried in the Prophet.
"Draco Malfoy?" A familiar feminine voice interrupted him and with an arched brow, he peeked over the edge of his paper, his jaw unhinging at the woman standing in front of him.
He'd know her anywhere, in any of her forms. But tonight… well, tonight was something altogether different. Her shapely legs were covered in sheer black pantyhose that disappeared under a shockingly tight black dress that left nothing to the imagination and her shoulders were covered with a modern black leather jacket. His gaze darkened as she took a seat in the plush chair next to him and he studied her red painted lips, realising with a gulp how much he wanted that shade staining every inch of his skin.
With a demure clearing of her throat, she crossed her legs, hitching her hem up and exposing a flash of bare thigh. Fucking hell...Stockings. Draco shifted in his seat as the sight caused blood to rush to his cock.
"Hermione?" His eyes grew wide as he tore his eyes away from the patch of tanned skin and up towards her face. "What're you doing—"
"Glad you've upgraded from your childhood insults but we aren't friends, Malfoy. Granger will do."
Draco's brows puckered as he stared at her curiously and when she leaned forward, resting a hand on his thigh, his breath caught. Who was this cheeky, forward little witch in front of him?
"A little fairy said you were spending your birthday alone," her chocolate-coloured eyes flashed wickedly and her fingers slid further up his leg until she was brushing the side of his growing erection.
Draco gulped, his gaze falling from hers to the swell of her breasts and the long lines of her barely covered legs. "Is that so?"
"Thought your wife wouldn't mind if you had some company for the night." Her hands moved from his lap and wound in his black satin tie, tugging his face closer to hers so they were just a breath apart.
He chuckled darkly, bumping her nose with his, while his hand found the crook of her knee, his thumb rubbing small circles over the sheer fabric there. "You clearly don't know my wife… but what she knows won't hurt her, I guess." He smirked, watching the flash of annoyance on her face as she warred with herself on breaking character
Her eyes flattened for just a moment before she resumed her game. "There's a VIP lounge here, care to join me?"
"VIP lounge? You must be a wealthy woman." Draco stood with a smirk, buttoning his suit jacket with a flick of his fingertips and offering his hand.
Hermione joined him, pressing herself flush against him and tangling her fingers in his sugar soft hair at the nape of his neck, staring up at with him all endearing love she had seven years ago when they'd kissed over the altar. "My husband is." She winked, her teeth cutting into her bottom lip. "But as you said, what he doesn't know…"
Grinning down at his wife, Draco couldn't help but smile. He had known since their first clumsy kiss in that broom closet that Hermione Granger was going to be the bloody death of him. He had tasted perfection and one doesn't just come back from something like that. And somehow, despite all his many fuck-ups, here she was: threading her fingers through his and leading him towards the dimly lit VIP lounge on the far side of the posh French hotel.
Once inside the doors, she murmured "Malfoy" to the bouncer and they were quickly whisked to a tented booth, draped in deep plum fabrics and covered in votive lights with a small chandelier hanging over the tiny cocktail table. Between them was a bottle of Ogden's and two glasses and Draco's brows knitted together.
"You don't drink firewhiskey. Let's get you a Chardon—" Draco's finger was already lifted to garner the attention of the waitstaff and Hermione hissed, slapping at his hand.
"Of course, I drink firewhisky. I just don't drink the cheap swill my husband keeps around." A smile ghosted over her lips as she shrugged her leather jacket off and her chest was brazenly on display as she slipped it down her arms. She tossed it on the low booth behind them and turned to tug on his tie again, but his eyes didn't leave her cleavage. Gods, he wanted to fucking sleep in there...maybe die in there.
"Your husband sounds like a tosser," his lips, flicked out to wet his lips and he came just an inch closer to her, ready to press his lips against hers and convey through the movement of his lips how very fucking much he missed her.
"He has his moments." She grinned, bringing her painted finger up to his mouth and tracing the curve of his bottom lip. "I've only got one rule for tonight."
"Rule?" Draco's lips were painfully close to her now, he could fucking taste her.
"No kissing." Her words ghosted over his face and his face fell as she pulled away, grinning. "Anything else goes, birthday boy. Deal?"
His eyes tightened as he considered her strange condition but when his gaze fell on the delicate curve of her breasts once more, he found himself nodding in agreement.
She brought her mouth dangerously close to his again and brushed her nose against his playfully. "Pour me a drink, handsome." Her hand slipped from his chest down the flat plane of his chest and she sat gracefully on the velvet booth, resting her elbow on the back as she stared up at him with wide, doe eyes.
Draco couldn't help but chuckle, his wife: the temptress.
He slipped the button free on his suit jacket and sat next to her, pouring a little firewhiskey into the two glasses and offering it to her. As much as he appreciated the incredible effort she was putting into this little birthday gift, he was most excited to watch her flail while attempting to drink her least favorite alcoholic beverage on earth.
She squared her shoulders and maintained steady eye contact as she took a large gulp of the whiskey. At first, he was bloody surprised at how well she took it but her face quickly transformed into a pained grimace as she forced the burning liquid down her throat and started hacking and clawing at her chest.
"Bloody hell!" she coughed, her tongue hanging out and a shiver working it's way up her spine. "That's fucking awful."
Draco broke out into a peal of riotous laughter, doubling over as he again motioned for a server. A little blonde thing poked her head in as Hermione begged for water and he ordered a bottle of their finest Chardonnay.
"Thank you," she managed moments later. A visible shift in her demeanor alerted him that she was again her alter ego and she turned back towards him, a few tears still stuck in her long lashes. "Tell me about your wife," she said with a forced coquettish smile.
"My wife?" Draco chuckled, plucking his drink from the table and knocking it back quickly. "She's beautiful. The cleverest person I've ever known, but she'll be the first person to tell you that." Hermione growled under her breath as she accepted the glass of the Chardonnay from the waitress and he continued. "She's the best mum. I don't know if it's possible for anyone to love someone as much as she loves our kids." His fingers ran smooth lines along her bare shoulder and she seemed to almost sag under his affections.
"You sound like a lucky man… Sure you want to risk it with me?" She asked, gulping at the cool white wine.
Draco's hand rested again on her knee, but this time he slid it just fractionally further up, his fingertip brushing over the lacy edge of her stocking, eliciting a quiet gasp from her pretty lips.
He leaned closer until his lips were brushing against her shoulder— and then her collarbone. Shifting in her seat, her shoulders opened up to him and her fingers gripped the bottom of his suit jacket as he placed a wet kiss on the hollow of her throat. His hand didn't stop its desperate search for her and when he brushed her wet folds and realized she was without knickers, he moaned against her skin.
His cock strained against his trousers and he dragged a fingertip up her slit and swirled around her clit. Sucking in a shocked gasp, Hermione tried to press her thighs together to push him back out and when his teeth caught her earlobe he felt her tremble.
"Spread open for me, love," he purred.
"Draco, they'll see…" Her head tipped back, exposing the long lines of her throat and his mouth claimed her there again.
"Let them see then…" His words coaxed something from her and her knees fell apart just a touch, just enough that he could rub a few small circles against her firm bud and slip two fingers inside as he assaulted her neck with a variation of licks, nips, and sucks.
When his fingers curled, tickling that little spot that made her fucking keen, she let out a strangled moan and then slapped a hand over her mouth. His other hand pushed her wrist away. "If I can't kiss you… you can't be quiet."
His other hand wound around her, slipping up her spine and tangling in her curls, turning her head so that he could resume his affections on the few spots he was granted to kiss and then sliding around her to squeeze as much of her breast as he could reach as she squirmed under his affections.
"Draco… I can't…" She pleaded, her legs falling open even farther and her teeth cut into her lip so hard he wanted to pluck it from its clenches and suck it till it turned purple. He needed to snog his fucking wife but when he went to capture her mouth, she dodged and latched her lips to his neck, earning a moan from him.
"Come for me, love," he commanded with a husky voice.
"I can't," she moaned again, her back arching off the back of the seat and exposing the creamy swell of her breasts. He peppered kisses on the gentle curve of her breast and drug his tongue down the valley between them. He felt her coming apart as she let out a quiet wail, trying not to alert the other tents to their salacious activities.
She came down and he slowed his diligent ministrations to her sex, and he praised her. "You're fucking perfect, Granger." It'd been years since he'd called her that regularly.
Another kiss under her ear and he could feel the rumble of a growl in her chest as she pulled her wand from her bag and the curtain fell closed on their tented cabana.
"Granger!" Draco balked but his hand was sliding from inside her as she tore at his belt buckle. "Granger!" he hissed this time. "This is a little less… covert," he chuckled, lifting his arse from the seat so she could derobe him down to his ankles.
His cock was straining for her as she settled between his thighs and her slender hands made a slow walk up his thighs, barely brushing the sides of his cock. Draco's head fell back as he tried to focus on not coming on done from the sight of his wife done up like a tart and sucking him off in a dark little club.
For this reason, he didn't see her as she dragged her tongue from the base of his cock up to the throbbing head. His hand moved of its own accord, threading through her curls as she took him in her mouth and swirled her tongue around his head, pressing hard against the sensitive spot that made him quiver.
He finally got the courage to look down at her, swallowing the length of him while her hand wrapped around the base and pumped along with the movements of her mouth. His eyes darkened and he sucked in a harsh breath. "Fuck, Hermione—" Her eyes shot open, almost glaring at him and he quickly remembered he was supposed to be calling her something else tonight. "Oh, shit. I mean— Fuck, Granger…"
She pulled off him with an audible pop and she tilted her head like she did when she scolded him for leaving his socks on the bathroom floor. "You're meant to stay in character."
"I understand the fucking rules, Granger. It's a little hard when you've my dick in your mouth—"
Hermione barked out a laugh, and her hand left him to stifle her uncontrollable giggles.
Draco could quickly feel this moment slipping away from him and fuck it all if he wasn't about to fuck his wife in this lounge. His hands gripped her under the arms and he pulled her to standing. Her laughter dying away his as his palms slid the tight fabric of her dress up her legs, exposing her sex to him as he remained seated with his pants around his ankles.
He leaned forward and his tongue found her clit again easily, his hands sliding around to palm her arse. He lapped her mercilessly as her hands made a mess of his hair. He pulled away without warning and pulled her onto his lap and they worked together in practiced movements until he poised at her entrance. Staring down at him with a heated gaze, her chest heaving just inches from his mouth.
She sank down painfully slowly and he couldn't swallow the groan as he finally felt her tightness slip around his prick. Rising up, she teased the tip of cock at her entrance, her wetness coating him before she slammed down on him and began a slow, passionate rhythm riding him.
His hands slid from her thighs, tracing the curves of her waist before filling his palms with the weight of her breasts. Shifting forward, he buried his face in her cleavage before ripping the thin strips from her shoulders and pulling the fabric down until her tits were bouncing in his face as she fucked him relentlessly.
Draco hands roamed freely, teasing her nipples and then sliding to grope her arse, even laying a quick smack against her cheek that caused her to cry out far too loud and they shared a quiet chuckle as she picked up the pace on her thrusts.
Her spine curved so she could rest her head on his shoulder and his hands wrapped tightly around her bare back as she rotated her hips and changed the angle so he could drive into her.
"Fuck, Hermione…" he whispered into her curls. "Kiss me."
"Draco…" she whined. "We're meant to be— I'm supposed to be—" Her words died on her throat as one of his hands cupped her cheek and turned her face to him, their foreheads resting together.
"It's my birthday and I want to kiss my fucking wife," he confessed before their lips crashed together, moving in a dance they had well practiced for nearly the last decade. His tongue darted into her parted mouth and he swallowed all of her moans as she once again crested, the walls of her sex tightening around him and sending him over as well.
They caught their breaths a moment before realization hit them that they'd just had—not so discreet—sex in a thinly veiled cabana. She slipped off his lap as they adjusted their clothing quickly and with shared shameful grimaces at the other.
"That was so irresponsible." Hermione's cheeks flamed but Draco couldn't be bothered to care, a smug smirk pulling at his lips. "Draco! How am I supposed to walk out of here?"
Draco barked out a laugh and leaned over, wrapping his hands around the nape of her neck and tugging her in for another kiss. "With your head held high, love." He smirked against her lips. "This is the best birthday I've ever had and it started out as the worst… Have I told you yet how much I love you?"
Hermione's shoulders hunched and she wound her hands around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer and letting out a sigh of relief. That was one thing he'd learned about his wife: she was easily softened by declarations of his affections and in the years since they'd gotten together, he gave them to her freely.
Draco pulled back and raised a curious brow. "By the way, where exactly are our children?"
Hermione's stood, smoothing out the lines of her dress. "About that… Harry and Gin have them."
Draco fixed his belt, pouring himself another pour of Ogden's while he waited for the rest of her response.
"But… I had to agree to keep the boys all next weekend." Hermione bared her teeth and made a face as Draco hacked on the firewhiskey violently hitting the back of his throat.
When his sputtering faded, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and glared at her. "You promised not again… Hermione, you promised. Last time they made a complete mess of my lab and Merlin's tit, Scorpius and Albus nearly burned down the garden."
"Wasn't surprise birthday sex kinda worth it?" Hermione made a hopeful face and her shoulders lifted close to her ears.
Draco grumbled, setting his glass down firmly. "There will be more birthday sex," he said with a pout.
"Oh, yes. Lots of it… kinky stuff Just… can we do it the room this time?" Hermione stepped into him, pressing her lips to the side of his frown.
"Fine," he clipped. "But lots of the kinky stuff. Those kids are fucking hellions… and that's coming from a former hellion." He grabbed her hand as she snagged her jacket from the bench and he pulled her from the tent.
He watched a slow blush crawl over his wife's cheeks as a few patrons peeked over their shoulders and he glowered at them. He gave a quick playful swat on her perfectly formed arse and called over to the server staring at them with a baleful glare.
"Send the rest of the drinks up to Draco Malfoy's room," he ordered. "I'm not quite done fucking my wife tonight."
A few of the patrons erupted into giggles and Hermione swatted as his chest, a mixture of mortification and amusement painted over her features. "You're incorrigible, do you know that."
"Hurry up, Granger. The kinky stuff awaits." He called over his shoulder as he tugged her towards the elevators.
A/N: Thanks MCal for telling me not to hit Ctrl+A, DELETE. You save all the words. MWAH!