Untitled Dramione Smut!
I have been having major writers block and this little tid bit just came to me yesterday so here you go. It is totally PWP and very tame for me but I think it works.
Title: Untitled
Pairing: Draco/ Hermione
Raiting: NC-17
Warnings: PWP
I walked down the corridor towards Draco’s suite of offices and I began to realize that his employees might be just a little afraid of me. It was nothing obvious just a general decrease in noise level and lack of eye contact.
I guess I’d come in one too many times in a bad mood, or maybe it was the rows that Draco and I had never really grown out of. Passion comes in many forms and to us a good argument was much akin to foreplay.
I’d been shopping in Muggle London and had picked up something that I was excited to give him. Nothing special just a small gift that I couldn’t pass up. It’s not often that I stumble so easily upon something special for my man who quite literally has everything.
His office door was open so I quietly slipped inside, his secretary was sitting across from him and they both looked up when they heard me enter. One slight raise of my eyebrows directed at Eleanor and she left the room without another word. I closed and locked the door and drew the blinds.
As I turned from the windows I caught his eye, and it was still there. That ever present heat that never fails to make me blush. I’m no longer innocent by any means but one glance from him in my general direction and I turn red.
“What brings you into the office today love?” He asks me as I round the desk to stand in front of him.
“I was shopping in a market I stumbled across today and I found something that I just had to buy for you.” I replied, slapping away the hand that was steadily creeping up the outside of my thigh and up under my skirt.
“Mrs. Malfoy, I do believe you forgot something when you were dressing this morning,” The ferret said cheekily, I’m the only one who can get away with calling him that.
“No, I didn’t. But that’s beside the point, here” I said handing him a bag. Being the materialistic SOB that I love, he starts pulling out tissue and tossing it around like a child on Christmas morning.
When he reached the scarf he pulled it out and rubbed it up against his face, “Love this has to be the softest thing I’ve ever felt. And the color, it’s like Slytherin Green covered in dust. I love it, and I love you,” he said looping the long scarf around me and pulling me in for a kiss.
As always when his lips touch mine I melted, walking forward until my knees were on either side of his legs, gasping as I felt him push two long fingers into me, the scarf falling to the floor forgotten. With his free hand he gripped my hair gently and pulled my head back so he could attack my neck.
I was writhing wantonly against his hands sobbing, begging him to give me more. His fingers slipped from me long enough to free himself from the confines of his trousers and he settled me down upon him, filling me up. Using his grip on my hair he redirected my head to get at my lips, plunging his tongue in matching rhythm with his thrusts.
My long legs allowed me to ride him simply by standing up then sitting back down, and I bit his shoulder in an attempt to maintain some level of discretion though I’m sure the whole office knows that when his door is closed and I’m with him we are either fighting, or making love.
When it’s over I stand up shuddering at the feeling of emptiness I’m left with. Draco stands and puts his clothes to rights before wrapping me in his arms. “Hermione,” he says and looks up from where my head is buried in his neck, “let’s go home.”
As we walk down the corridor headed toward the lift I’m quite sure that we work matching smirks. I am after all, now a Malfoy.
Finis