A/N: This chapter takes off immediately where the previous one ended. So you might want to re-read at least the last few paragraphs of Chapter 6... Alpha by sarenia, beta by frogster.

In case you're here, wondering why all this seems terribly familiar: I've made lots of changes to the first few chapters which resulted in the creation of an in-between chapter ex nihilo. So you should be caught up, but just in case, go check and make sure. I can promise you this at least, it'll be worth your while! x

Chapter 7:

On the Brink

Hermione's mind and body were spinning out of control, and it said everything about her present state that they were already almost at Charing Cross station by the time she realised that there were a lot quicker ways to get to her Shoreditch flat and Sh!. She must have been tomato-red in the face when she admitted as much to Draco, yet he hardly seemed to notice. In fact, from the way his entire expression brightened she could only imagine how relieved he must be about not using the tube. It did not, however, spare her the embarrassment of re-entering the Leaky Cauldron barely ten minutes after their mortifying almost-kiss-and-exit. Eyes fixed to the floor, she crossed the pub as fast as she could without actually running, and practically jumped into the fireplace. She barely remembered to give Draco her address.

It really was fortunate that Hermione didn't plan on going back to Whitehall today. Being close to Draco brought her to the brink of insanity. All she smelled was cedar and Draco, bergamot and Draco. Everything was Draco. And then there was the way she had reacted when they were actually touching. The way her skin had been buzzing from the slightest of his touches, the fire that had spread through her body when he held her… If there ever had been a shred of a doubt, her recent experiences confirmed that the Sublime Dream was, indeed, at work.

So as she spun home, her mind too was spinning, round and round, nocturnal phantasies and real experiences mixing, melting, permeating until all that was left was a great yearning for only him. She could still feel his body against hers. The way the muscles rippled under his robes. The gentleness of his arms as he grabbed her. The burning in his eyes when his face was suddenly just a breath away from hers, coming closer and closer and almost—

Hermione landed on all fours on her living room floor. She coughed up soot, her fingers digging into the faded orange and purple pattern of her carpet to steady herself, not even caring about the creosote stains she left behind.

She scrambled up, swearing under her breath as she fumbled for her wand. Sparks erupted as she slashed it through the air, vanishing the black spots but adding a couple of singe marks due to her hasty execution.

'For Christ's sake.'

Hermione grimaced at the now ruined faux-Persian rug her grandmother had forced onto her. On the other hand, she thought, maybe this was the chance to finally throw out the ugly old thing. Or maybe she ought to wait until she and Draco—

Fuck!

With a start, she realised that she probably had less than a minute to make herself and her flat presentable. Wand at the ready, she raced upstairs—through the study, where the tell-tale tomes on sex magyck were the first things to vanish—and then into her bedroom. A flick of her wrist sent the wooden chest with the toys, elixirs, and potions flying under the bed. It banged against the wall, the vials clinking dangerously, but Hermione was so stressed she hardly cared. She was already halfway out the door when she spotted a pair of stray knickers. They, too, sailed through the air and into the laundry basket. She sprinted out and slammed the door behind her, just to be sure. It banged so loudly as if it was about to fall out of its frame.

She continued whirling through her flat in half-panic, half-excitement, slashing and swishing and flicking her wand, sending stuff flying in all directions. It didn't calm her much that, generally speaking, she was the epitome of order and organisation. Her neurotic habit of checking everything thrice was the exact opposite of help.

Somewhere a clock chimed and Hermione, wheezing for breath and about to reorganise her sofa cushions for the third time, stopped in her tracks.

The cushions plopped down. One tumbled over the edge.

She was a sweaty mess, and, even worse, her knickers were in quite a state. Inconveniently, that fact aroused her even more. She rubbed her thighs against each other. After a furtive glance at her wristwatch and the still dormant fireplace, she sprinted up to the bathroom. The door fell into its frame and the bathroom-mirror rattled against the wall.

'Careful, missy! What are we in such a rush for, hum?' Hermione scowled at the cheeky thing. 'If you're not careful with the frowning you'll get wrinkles all over. And the stress. It doesn't do your complexion a lot of good, I don't think.' The mirror made a couple of disapproving noises and Hermione clenched her teeth. 'There, there. Take a breather. And then you'd better clean yourself up before anyone sees you like this.'

It didn't help at all that the old thing was right. Hermione's head was enveloped by a halo of flyaways, her cheeks stained with specks of magenta — and then, of course, there was that slippery mess between her legs. Thankfully, that last bit went unnoticed by the judgemental mirror.

She braced herself on the sink and forced herself to exhale, slowly and deeply.

Inhale. Exhale.

Stop and breathe, her mum would always say, or you're gonna muck it all up anyway.

Downstairs, she heard the fireplace roar to life.

Her heart leapt into her throat.

She splashed a bit of water onto her face and rummaged through the mirror cabinet for wipes. With haste, she cleaned up the sticky mess between her legs and waved her wand to right her disorderly clothes.

After a last glance in the mirror, Hermione flew out of the bathroom, half-way confident that she was prepared for whatever happened next, and ignoring the disapproving tutting that followed her on the way out.

While looking for Granger, Draco had found his way into the kitchen, where he had stumbled across a couple of pamphlets. Not that he had been snooping; lurid colours blinking out of a partially closed drawer would have grabbed anyone's attention, really.

Bright pink letters were flashing across the front of the broadsheet, appearing and disappearing. "Awareness Is Bliss," it said. In the background, the dark silhouettes of a witch and a wizard on brooms were zooming in and out of the frame. Frowning, he brought it closer and realised all of a sudden that both figures on the front were naked. Heat spread over his neck and rushed downward.

'Oh, there you are!'

He instantly dropped his arm, hiding the pamphlet behind his back.

Granger was casually leaning in the doorway as though she had been there all day. He really wanted to know how she always managed to appear so collected and in charge. Her skirt was pressed and the collar of her blouse was stiff like… He coughed.

'Hello there.'

'Shall we go then?' She smiled, and Draco had to distract himself from the deep red of her lips. It was the exact shade of red that he had imagined smeared all over... He shuffled. Once again, his trousers were getting a little uncomfortable in certain places. He really ought to apply a charm to hide his situation before they went on their way.

A faint drumming sound, gradually increasing in speed, startled them both and they looked to the windows. Also here, it had started to rain.

'Oh,' Granger said, frowning at the clouds visible between the houses. They were looking suspiciously dark. ' Sh! isn't that far from here, but that looks pretty horrid. I'll better fetch an umbrella.' She disappeared again. Draco heard the clicking sound of a cupboard door opening and then rummaging.

He picked up the pamphlet again and unfolded it.

Awareness Is Bliss. Making Wizarding England More Pleasurable, One Orgasm at a Time.

'Got it!' Granger had materialised again. Panicked, Draco looked up, heat spreading from his cheeks down his back. This time, he didn't manage to hide the flier.

'Oh, you've found our brochure.'

'Your..?'

'It's a sex ed campaign Blaise and I started it a while ago when—' She paused. It was almost unnoticeable but of course, Draco did notice. '—we realised the state of sexual education amongst younger witches and wizards…er, pure-bloods especially…'

'Solely for educational purposes, eh?' Draco raised an eyebrow at her.

'Well, to be perfectly honest,' she looked a bit sheepish, 'it sort of started as a remedy against bad sex.' She laughed lightly and looked away.

Against— fuck. Of course, by now, Draco had understood all too well that the image of Little Miss Proper was nothing but a glorified wank fantasy. But fuck. How experienced was Granger exactly? To avert the situation in the downstairs department from becoming too tense, he picked up the pamphlet. Granger and Zabini had founded the group. Why was that bloody bastard always involved?

'Why Blaise?' he asked as conversationally as he could.

'Aside from the obvious reasons, you mean?' She looked slightly puzzled. That, in turn, confused Draco but he just nodded. 'Well, other than that he is one of the few people who do not shy away from conversations about sex, he's frank. I like that.'

'Ah.' Something inside of Draco made him hesitant to follow that line of inquiry. He had worked quite hard to be rid of Blaise, after all. But he desperately wanted to know what sort of relationship they had. Also, she liked people who were frank.

'And that's how you came to be friends?'

Granger explained that they had bonded during a tiresome ministry function when she was struggling to get rid of a snubbed admirer. Smiling, she then volunteered the information that Blaise and she had only ever been friends.

Draco felt delighted to hear this. His skin crawled at the mere idea of Blaise— or any other person, come to think of it— touching Granger.

'Was there a particular reason why you started it?' he asked casually, overtly leafing through the pamphlet. He skimmed the text while actually waiting for her explanation.

She looked at him for a brief moment, her expression curiously unreadable. 'Well...' She paused and her eyes flickered to her kitchen window. Heavy drops were pounding against the glass. The trails of streaming water were painting vertical patterns and made the outside seem blurry and unreal. Her eyelids fluttered and she looked back at him.

'I just realised that many... witches and wizards lack sexual education and that, in turn, negatively affects their relationships. There.' She took the pamphlet out of his hand and tapped it with twice with her wand.

'Expandio.'

The pamphlet turned into a small but thick booklet. Draco leafed through it, this time with his attention fixed on the content and not on the witch standing suddenly so very close to him, with this delicious flowery scent permeating his senses that made him want to engage in a very different sort of deflowering, so to speak.

There was an overflow of general information about the "Anatomy of the Penis" and the "Anatomy of the Vagina" on the first few pages. Draco's eyes grew wide on the other topics that were covered. He was just skimming "Orgasm — how do I get there?", when she coughed.

She smiled slightly and held up the umbrella. 'Erm… should we go then? You can keep that, of course.' She glanced towards the front door and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

'Of course,' Draco said, wondering if he was imagining the slightly redder tint on her cheeks. He pocketed the pamphlet and followed her out the door into the rain, feeling slightly dizzy. He only just remembered to charm his trousers to conceal his stiffy.

It was fortunate that the shop was a mere five-minute walk from her flat because they had to share an umbrella. Under normal circumstances that would've been innocent enough. Today, though, Draco's head felt increasingly light-headed and dizzier with every step he took. He tried not to look down at Granger beside him too often, painfully aware as he was of her presence. It must have been the lack of sleep because his out-of-control subconscious was starting to affect him very badly. All his mind seemed capable of was thinking about Granger; Granger bent over a table in the potions classroom, Granger in an alcove in the library, Granger up against the Vanishing Cabinet, Granger spread out over her kitchen table like a snack…

Never before had sharing an umbrella meant anything else than good manners to him. Now though there seemed to be barely enough space for either of them. He could not avoid brushing against her, and every time he did—for instance, when his hand holding the umbrella grazed her shoulder—a spark raced through his veins, leaving a buzzing sensation ricocheting through his body, egging him on to do all sorts of naughty things he was desperately trying not to think about.

And then there was her scent: the smell of the Manor flowers in the lower gardens during springtime; the notes of spring flowers and baked goods which he had mistaken for his mother's bouquet at breakfast. How silly. It was glaringly obvious now that it was her scent; her scent that had been in his nose since Saturday night.

He wondered why he had not realised it before. The notes of gardenia and vanilla wafted around her like a halo, and it made his head spin. Not that it was unpleasant; on the contrary. It stimulated his body in the best—worst—ways. Maybe he should have skipped that butterbeer at lunch.

Despite all of it, Draco was proud that he was still able to carry a conversation. He asked her a bit more about the origins of the campaign. Granger volunteered that she and Blaise had bonded over wine and the history of sexual freedom. He barely noted her excitement about one of Blaise's ancestors; he was already planning his next move. Thank god for all the inane dinners and garden parties his parents had dragged him to. Even in his state, his ahs and ohs were all in the right places, and Granger, encouraged by that, rattled on… something or other about feminism and a play she had seen just after… after... ten years ago, wherein the female bits had apparently been the protagonist. Draco was mystified by the way her eyes widened as she called it "eye-opening," and the way she looked at him had his mind performing a sharp turn. He suddenly wondered what her quim looked like, and if she looked anything like he had imagined in his dreams...

This had him so wrapped up that he suddenly found himself again in the middle of a discourse on Sh! and its origin history. Granger's eyes were shining and she didn't seem to have noticed his mental faux-pas. Nevertheless, he vowed to use Grandfather's Pensieve as soon as he got home. Granger would probably never forgive him if she found out that he had been far more occupied with the appearance of her lower lips than the words out of her mouth, even though it got increasingly harder not to think about Granger and sex. It was sort of ironic that, at this point, hiding his stiffy was the least of his problems.

Draco felt immense relief when he spotted the now familiar brick building.

The feeling didn't last very long though. Almost as soon as they had entered, he found himself faced with all kinds of toys, lingerie, and literature about all matters related to sex. If the dizzying feeling from before had made it hard to focus, it was nothing compared to standing in a room, surrounded by Granger's scent and all sorts of erotic equipment which he just itched to immediately put to use.

His already colourful imagination went into overdrive. A bright pink vibrator sat on one of the white shelves, but instead he saw Granger on her desk chair pleasuring herself, legs spread wide, cheeks flushed. He turned and saw a crotchless teddy. Immediately, the vision of Granger standing in a library entered his mind; she was wearing nothing but that piece of black lace, reaching for a book conveniently placed on a higher shelf which gave him the optimal view.

Someone laughed and Draco froze, suddenly and awkwardly aware that he was not alone and that he really needed to get ahold of himself. He shifted around, thinking of Snape in the same teddy. Ah… much, much better… sort of. He almost grimaced; this was almost like getting rid of a Boggart. A sex boggart. Yuck.

Granger and the shop assistant were talking animatedly. Draco barely managed a proper greeting. The way she was leaning against the counter supplied his fantasy with too much material. It was as though his body was battling a fever. His limbs were turning hot and numb (except for one appendage), and his mind started slipping. All he was capable of thinking was Granger in stockings... Granger with nipple tassels... Granger in that dress… over the counter… legs spread and his cock...

Desperate for a distraction, he turned around and scanned the bookshelves behind him. His eyes immediately found another copy of Clit-o-logy, the book that he had left unopened in the bag in his dressing room after the first night. His poor mind jumped to the dream in the potions classroom where his nocturnal-self had been dedicated to comprehensively studying the female sexual organ.

The blood left his brain.

Bloody fuck.

His hands, already hot, were getting clammy. His fingernails dug deeper and deeper into his palm. He was desperate for it to hurt; for any feeling other than arousal, really. To keep his mind out of the gutter. Away from thinking about sex in general. Or sex with Granger in particular. Or how Granger looked when she was stark naked, lying on the floor, her lips wet and swollen, her clit…

Draco bit into his cheek as hard as he could. The sharp sting made him wince. Granger and the woman behind the counter turned to him. The woman frowned.

'Everything alrigh', luv?' she said in a thick Cockney accent, raising a thin eyebrow.

He cleared his throat. 'Fine, thank you.' He thanked the stars above that he had managed to perform a concealing charm on his trousers just in time. Otherwise, he would have been in a sticky situation right about now.

Granger regarded him with a strange expression. Just like earlier, he was magically drawn to her eyes. He found himself wondering why had never noticed how exceptionally dark they were. He couldn't even tell if they were dark brown or black. They seemed so deep and full of knowledge that, for a second, he worried whether she might be a legilimens. The thought that she might see to the bottom of his soul appeared terrifying and comforting at the same time.

Granger, who had been staring back at him, abruptly turned towards the woman and away from him. Draco kept his eyes on her. The slightly shorter hairs on the nape of her neck were standing erect. The skin underneath looked soft and rosy. He had to fight the burning urge to reach out and caress her right there.

'We were looking for an umbrella, actually.' Her voice sounded oddly strained.

The cashier raised the other pencilled eyebrow. 'An umbrella?' She squinted her eyes and looked confusedly from Granger to him. 'Just an umbrella, or are you looking for something specific? Because—'

'Oh right, sorry!' Granger gushed. 'Draco here left his here, on Saturday. Right?' Granger turned around. 'What does it look like again?'

She opened her mouth slightly as if she wanted to say something. But his brain froze and for some reason, he only saw her lips. Those lips. They were painted bright red. It was perfectly professional and utterly naughty at the same time. How had he made it through lunch without only staring at her lips? His mind conjured various images, for example, right about now, he was hard-pressed to think of anything sexier than those lips wrapped around his cock. He wondered idly if the lipstick would leave traces as the lips moved up and down, up and down his shaft, as she moved her head—

'Draco?'

'Hm?'

'The umbrella?'

'Yes. We're looking for my umbrella. The one Blaise gave to me.'

'Yes.' Granger looked slightly pained. She puckered her very dangerous, breathtaking red lips. 'What does it look like again?'

'It's, uh—' He pinched his leg with all the force he could muster. 'It's, uh, black.'

The woman frowned again, although there might have been a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. Draco decided that she was odd.

'Let me see if I can find something. Just a second, luves.'

She disappeared through a white door.

Her absence made Granger's presence the dominating force and he was helplessly drawn to her. His entire body was vibrating like an out of control wand, just like when one was desperately holding onto a wand that was Expelliarmus'ed away. His heart, too, was beating erratically. Unfortunately, all the blood rushed downwards. So, pinning her against the counter seemed like an exceptionally good idea to him. She was wearing a skirt, which—

'What did you think of this?'

Draco spun around. Granger was standing at the wall with the shelves, perusing a heavy book. He angled his head. Oh no. Clit-ology again.

'Oh. It's a great read.' His nails were permanently lodged in his leg. Unfortunately, that didn't help his heart from leaping into his throat. 'Exceptionally fascinating.'

'You haven't started it yet, have you?'

'Err… I haven't had the time yet.'

'You haven't?'

'My weekend was sort of... busy.'

Her eyes sparkled with curiosity.

'What did you do,' she said, playing with a loose curl again. He was hit by another wave of gardenia and vanilla that effectively abrogated the last of his faculties.

'Gardening.'

Draco almost kicked himself. The situation was spiralling out of control. He desperately needed Granger alone to get her to take on his situation.

'Oh!' Granger's eyes widened in surprise. Those eyes again; those mirrors of black and brown that swallowed him whole and left him breathless and mindless, naked and exposed. The oddest part about it was that he didn't seem to mind at all. Instead, he was overcome with the need to be even closer to her. Simultaneously, desire coursed through his veins like fiendfyre. Igneous beasts thundered through his veins, causing a sensation so powerful that he was convinced that his entire body must be vibrating. In fact, these tremors were so strong, so visceral, that they propelled him forward towards Hermione.

Granger was still staring at him transfixed, with that bewildered expression in those deep, dark eyes that made him lose all sense of self. She wet her lips and that tiny action, her tongue slipping out and running along the seam of her lips, which looked so very soft and inviting, made Draco want to…

'I'm really sorry but this the only thing I've… oh.'

His arm froze as Granger whirled around, and the spell was broken. Behind the counter, the shop assistant held up the fucking umbrella Blaise had given to him for his last birthday. Draco had difficulty recalling why exactly he cared about the bloody thing.

'Right, yes, that's the one.' He took it and ignored her suggestive looks that kept drifting a little too low. It made him painfully aware of the dire situation in his downstairs department he seemed unable to contain. At this point, no amount of Snapes in scanty knickers was doing the trick.

'Well…' The woman grinned at them both. The fact that he was in a Muggle shop completely without the aid of magic had never seemed more troubling to him. He would have liked nothing better than whip out his wand and hex her away, or, even better, apparate himself and Granger straight to her flat.

Draco did the only thing that he was able to do. He said his hasty thank you and good-byes. Ignoring the absurd smirking and winking of the shopkeeper, they went on their way. Outside, the drizzle had turned into a proper downpour. Of course, by now, he had his own umbrella. Unfortunately, the additional space between them didn't seem to help at all.

If, this morning, he had thought that something was off, he had been sorely mistaken. Every second he spent in Granger's presence, his situation seemed to have gotten progressively worse. This he realised, even though his brain felt like smothered in flowers and the only part of his body able to function was his dick.

Even in his trance-like state, Draco was well aware that he could hardly distinguish reality from his dreams. It made him do very odd things—things that, usually, he would have never done in a million years, like walking so close to her that he could sniff her hair, or reaching out to feel the softness of her skin again, or kissing her to hear her moan again. Again and again. He hardly knew how he got back to hers without pulling her into a deserted street and shagging her up against a brick wall.

By the time they stepped into her hallway, and Granger, in a show of good manners, offered to make tea, the last shred of control fizzled out like a burnt-out candle. She made it into the living room before he caught her around the waist and pulled her into him with such desperate force that they banged against the large bookcase. A couple of tomes toppled to the floor.

'Be careful, Draco, the boo— oh, ohhhh...'

Draco trailed kisses down her neck, sucking at her skin as he went. 'Forget the bloody books for a second.'

'But it's uh—it's uh—' Draco nipped his way down to her cleavage, as his hands were roaming her body, wandering up her sides, over her breast. He was eager to feel everything at once.

'Oh god.' Granger threw back her head, as his thumbs brushed against her nipples, which were now aroused and clearly visible through the thin material of her blouse.

Draco moaned into her throat.

'I've got to have you, Granger. You're driving me absolutely mad.'

He pulled her head down for another burning kiss. Granger had her eyes half-closed and was making delicious noises that made his already painfully aroused dick throb in his pants.

Draco tugged her blouse out of her skirt, while her fingers fumbled to get his dress shirt off. They both somehow ended up stuck and tumbled to the ground.

'Fuck it.' Draco whipped out his wand and vanished both their clothes.

'Hey! That was my favourite skirt!'

'Don't care,' he said, voice raspy and breathless, 'I'll get you another.'

Whatever Hermione wanted to reply in protest, it was effectively silenced by Draco covering her mouth with his. He pressed himself against her, his legs and his dick settling hot between her legs. He could feel her velvet-slick centre against him and he felt like he was about o explode from all the tension and anticipation coiling like an overstretched rubber band inside of him. She tilted her hips to rub herself against him. They both moaned desperately.

'Fuck, Granger, you're dripping.'

She licked along his throat. 'Yes, and you know why?' She bit his earlobe lightly. 'Because I want you to fuck me.'

Draco's entire body shuddered, and Granger pressed her hands against his back, angling herself upwards. He fumbled between his legs.

He looked into her eyes. There was uncertainty but it was overshadowed by the lust burning in them.

Draco inhaled her scent and pressed his cock, slowly, carefully, into her, her silken depths swallowing him almost too easily.

The moment he was engulfed by her tight, wet heat, he was certain he wouldn't last. Granger really was dripping. He looked down to where they were joined and saw a thick, pearly-white drop of her essence running down his cock. A strangled sound escaped his throat and the grip on her hips tightened. He squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn't handle this. His senses were over-stimulated and he was already feeling like he was on the brink of shooting.

'Please, Draco.' Granger's voice was pure salaciousness. 'Move. I want to feel you.'

He didn't dare to open his eyes and agonisingly slowly, mustering the very last shreds of control he had left, he pulled out of her. His heart was slamming against his ribs and it cost him all his concentration not to think about how her walls pulsed around him; not to think about the deliciously perverse, wet sounds they were making as his dick moved; not to enjoy of the beguiling melody that was Granger groaning in ecstasy.

It was heaven, and it was hell. The way the sounds, smells, touches, everything in and around him compelled him to slam into her with all that he had, yet he had to resist—

'More, Draco!' Granger was panting and moaning. He had heard these sounds before, and he was aching to hear them again and again. 'I want more.'

He tried to take his time, he really did, but Granger edged herself and tilted her hips to get him to go deeper.

He hissed and recited potion instructions in his mind. Stir twenty times clockwise before adding an anti-clockwise stir and the potion should go from colourless to deep burgundy. One stir. Two stirs. Three stirs. The potion should be pink now, just as pink as the beautiful lips of Granger's—

'Oh, yessss.'

Granger threw back her head and reached around his bum to grab his checks. He only now realised that he had started snapping his hips in sync with the reciting of the recipe, rotating in a vaguely counter-clockwise fashion.

Granger was panting. 'Fuck, Draco. I need more. Fuck me. Fuck me!' She widened her legs and he could see her puffy lips glistening with their combined arousal. Their scents lingered in the air, and Draco's head spun. The smell of gardenias and vanilla already drove him wild; the feel of Granger's heat surrounding his cock, swallowing him, inviting him deeper, made him weak; but worst and best of all were the sounds she was making. Her gasping and moaning while she was gyrating on his cock was one thing. Another was her filthy mouth. He already knew he'd become addicted to that mouth.

'Oh god, Draco.' Granger reached out and her fingers caressed his stomach and his chest. 'Give it to me. Please fuck me. Fuck me hard.' Her fingernails dug into his abs, and he inadvertently reacted by burying himself deep within her.

'Yeeessss… Just like that.'

She squirmed and tilted her hips, rubbing herself against him. Draco thought about stirring a potion clockwise, watching the fumes turn from dusky pink to a deeper shade of red. He thought about fumes lingering over his head, so thick that they were obscuring anyone else who was in the classroom, and about a witch bent over a desk, begging him to fuck her harder.

'More, I want more. ' Granger was panting, a delicious red spreading over her breast, up her neck and over her cheeks. Her deep eyes were dark and burning with desire. 'Give it to me. Fuck me hard!'

Draco couldn't help it; he snapped his hips and drove into her more deeply. Granger moaned and gyrated her hips, edging him on with those filthy-sweet words, and any semblance of control evaporated. He couldn't stop. He was compelled to bury himself as deeply and firmly in her. Over and over and over. The way she moved against him only motivated him to go harder, faster, deeper into her cunt.

'Oh fuck, yessss. Gosh, your cock feels so bloody good. So bloody fucking good.' Granger's lips were open, smiling. Her pussy lips, which were almost as red, were coating his cock in a silver sheen of arousal.

It only made him need it more. He was burning to feel more of her, all of her.

Draco fell forward. He cradled her head between his arms and kissed her hungrily, tasting her lips and stroking her tongue, as he pounded her into the floor. He forgot everything that had ever mattered to him. There was only chasing that sweet tightness and the growing tingling feeling that kept growing and growing... he revelled in the silky heat surrounding his cock, the way his bollocks hit her cunt, the familiar sensation of the tension within him starting to coil. He pushed himself deeper into her, deeper and deeper, stroke after stroke, until the lights and colours exploded before his eyes, painting all sorts of rays and blooms in the wildest of colours on the back of his lids.

It felt as if he was bursting with energy. He might as well have shot sparks of magic out of his hands. His body shook so hard that he thought he would break a limb, and hot stream after hot stream spurted into her. For a long moment, he felt invincible; as if he could take on anyone or anything. The irrational thought flashed through his mind that if he ever wanted to give the Patronus charm another try, he might try it whilst orgasming inside Granger's perfect, beautiful, tight, wet—

Granger.

The high evaporated in an instant, doused by the bucket of ice-water that was the reality.

Granger was lying beneath him. Her face, still cradled by his arms, was rosy and glowing, her eyes were wide and she was smiling, but…

'Did you..?' Draco watched her closely, his cock still buried deep inside her, was limp and lifeless. Although it was as though he didn't have any bones left, his insides were twisting and knotting. ' Did you?'

She reached up to caress his cheeks. As her warm fingers traced imaginary lines on his cheeks, he realised he was covered in sweat. A drop fell from his face and he realised that he must be crushing her. He tried to move from her, Granger's other hand clamped down on his bum.

'No, stay.' She grabbed his arse. 'Please, I like this.'

His cheeks burned with shame. 'I'm sorry, you didn't…' he looked away, he didn't want to see the pity in her eyes. 'I'm sorry it wasn't that good for you.'

Well, now he knew why Granger had founded her little group. To save herself from pathetic lovers such as himself.

'Oh, stop it, Draco.' There was a sting on his bum.

'Did you just hit me?'

Granger was smirking at him. 'And what if I did?'

Draco sputtered.

'I think you've been a naughty boy and you deserve to be punished.' Her eyes were still deep and dark, and Draco found himself solely occupied by the idea that Granger really ought to have an orgasm. Again, he tried to move, but once again, her hand clamped down on him.

'Stay a little longer, would you?' Her voice was soft, although slightly raspy. 'This is one of the great things about sex.'

'One of the great things?'

'Yes, of course, silly.' She laughed lightly, and his cheeks heated again. He avoided her face and instead distracted himself by stroking her arms. She had incredibly soft skin. He could caress her for hours, he realised.

'There are so many other great things about sex, this for example.' Her hand felt along his cheek and her fingers skirted lightly across his chin and his cheekbones, and then down his neck. 'Intimacy is another. There's nothing like sharing this moment of incredible closeness with someone.'

She titled her head, and he bent down, eager to taste her lips.

A/N: Dedicated to the lovely reviewers, especially to BoredRavenvlaw620, kyonomiko, AussieSweet, and tmtcltb who have been following from the very beginning! p.s. Hermione was talking about Eve Ensler's Vagina Monologues ;)