she drank it all in with equal thirst. She felt wonderfully fragile and cherished.
They were both lying back on the bed now. He was placing soft, wet kisses up her inner thigh. Desire thrummed through her. She was sore and sensitive from the night's activities and if he kept going where she assumed he was going, Hermione didn't think she'd be able to bear it.
The knocking on the front door had now become banging.
She grabbed his shoulders and pushed lightly. He stopped, ever responsive to her cues. They shared another look and then Hermione felt warm breath between her legs for a moment, and then his even hotter tongue parted her slick, swollen lips and began to flick and stab.
She gasped and dragged a pillow over her face to muffle the additional sounds she made. Last night, all of this had been as decadent as it was emotional. This morning, it was stark and real and...ohhh.
She came.
Bang, bang, bang went the front door.
Light exploded behind her closed eyes. In the middle of all of it, she was aware that Draco picked her up and held her in his lap as the tremors overtook her. He ran his warm fingers along her back in long, soothing strokes. His erection was a steel brand at her lower back.
"I'm going to answer the door now," he whispered.
How could he sound so normal after that?
Hermione didn't think she could handle him letting go of her, but she managed.
"Put some clothes on and come outside when you're ready." He kissed her on the forehead.
And then he was gone, shutting the bedroom door behind him with a soft click. It was a good thing magical folk tended to live such long lives, Hermione couldn't help thinking. She'd need all those extra years to simply get used to life with Draco.
Feeling extremely happy and relaxed, she flopped back on the bed, pulled all the covers over her head. Presently, she felt something nudge at her. She poked her head out from under the sheets and found herself staring at a set of familiar, expectant, amber-coloured eyes.
"Goodness, Crookshanks I thought I left you in your basket?"
The old cat gave her an 'is he gone now?' sort of look and then started to purr up a storm.
"You are so sleeping on the couch tonight mister," she scolded, but then completely ruined the threat by cuddling him.
**
Ron was red from exertion by the time Hermione's front door swung open. He realized he was standing there with a scowl on his face and his fist in the air, looking like a moron, but shock soon outweighed all other thoughts.
Draco Malfoy, dressed head to toe in black flying robes, was looking at him with a slightly annoyed expression.
"Yes?"
"What are you doing here?" Ron demanded, regretting the fact that his voice climbed half an octave. "And what happened to the front fence?"
"I'm not the one banging on the door at an unseemly hour on a Sunday morning," Draco calmly reminded.
Ron tried to look over Draco's shoulder, but Draco made a point of filling up the doorway with little space left over. "Where's Hermione? I need to see her. Actually, it' s good that you' re here too. I have something to tell the both of you." He took a step forward.
Draco slammed his open palm against the doorjamb, halting Ron's progress. "She's getting dressed and then we're going to sit down to a nice, civilized breakfast. You and I have already been through this once before, so don't make this awkward for her now, Weasley," he warned, and there was nothing mild in his voice now.
Ron was insulted. "We' re not at school any more. It might surprise you to know I do have manners."
Draco smiled thinly. "Yes, it would surprise me."
Ron scowled. "Can I come in now?"
Draco stood aside.
Hermione was tightening the belt on a white robe as she walked into the lounge. She noted, firstly, that it' d been Ron at the door and that he and Draco seemed to be trying to give each other brain aneurisms via looks of contempt.
"What, has a simple 'good morning' gone out of fashion or something?" she muttered, sounding exasperated.
She turned concerned brown eyes to Ron. "What is it Ron? Is everything alright?"
Hermione was decent but she might as well not have been. She looked flushed. Her hair was tousled and her lips looked swollen. Still, Ron thought he managed to pull himself together rather admirably and deliver the ambiguous news.
"Snape