Pride & Prejudice & Leprechauns
The LEMONS!
Her soft pink lips tasted of warmth and strawberries, and, when she opened her mouth for him, he found the sensation almost dizzying. His tongue met hers, and they began gently dueling until it was no longer a tender kiss. It became hungry and desperate, full of need and the whispers of secret longings. Draco pulled her closer to him, running his hands through her carefully arranged hair and dislodging the pins that held her wild curls in place.
The small moan she made as he continued to devour her nearly undid him like a third year school boy. He abandoned all thoughts of how their shared passions were simply the work of the deranged leprechaun’s charmed coins.
He didn’t care.
He simply wanted her.
Hermione could tell the moment Draco ceased holding back on her. The glowing green mist engulfed them completely now, evanescencing off their skin in pulsing waves with each breath. He moaned against her mouth, pulling away to trace his lips along her jaw and down the curve of her neck. She pulled away.
“Not here,” she whispered, “Mal—Draco, we need to find... we must go someplace else.”
Draco didn’t need to be told twice. He wrapped Hermione tightly in his arms, pulling her close to his chest, and Apparated them from the alley directly into his bedchamber on the second floor of his flat in Diagon Alley.
She swayed slightly, feeling addled from Side-Along Apparition. It took a second to regain control, and Hermione turned to smile at Draco when she once again was steady on her feet.
He smirked back at her and resumed kissing the witch, while his hands were busy, first with removing her cloak and then with the buttons on the back of her gown. One. Two. Three. Four. Once the gown was undone halfway down her back, he eased away and let it fall down to her waist. Hermione kicked it off while Draco made short work of her stays, yanking at the ties of the undergarment.
Groaning, Draco dragged his mouth from hers to look at the fullness of her breasts revealed under the cotton fabric of her shift. His hands moved up to cup them, and with a light tug he was able to see them fully.
“Merlin,” he whispered hungrily and latched onto one.
“Mmm,” she responded.
It was the last either of them said. Draco lifted her legs over his hips and carried her to the bed, throwing her on it with little ceremony. Her shift was bunched up around her waist, and he yanked it the rest of the way off of her body. Then, he practically ripped off her pantalettes and threw them to the floor, leaving her naked except for her stockings. He was pleased to see that the ribbons holding them up were green.
Hermione leaned back on her elbows without feeling the need for modesty and stared up at him through half-lidded eyes. Her eyes roamed over his body, lean from years of playing Quidditch. Draco stood tall as he untied his cravat, for he knew he cut a fine figure of a man. She noticed that his previously silver gray eyes had darkened as he too looked her over, but his gaze was much more predatory.
Once undressed, he climbed back on top of her and resumed suckling at her breast. Hermione was writhing underneath him. When she moved her hips against him, he made a sound of approval. His hands moved downward over her belly towards an ache that he mercilessly skimmed over as he tightened his grip on her thighs to push her legs open.
Having released the one nipple with an audible pop, his mouth was repeating the same actions on her other breast. Her hands lightly tugged at his tousled blonde hair, but then suddenly gripped in clenched fists as his hands finally moved there. His fingers were parting, stroking, probing, and pumping into her wetness, bringing her desire to a boil.
It was too much.
It wasn’t enough.
Hermione arched up against his hand, begging for release. Wordlessly and wantonly, she pulled at his hips, sure that her nails would leave crescent shaped marks on his buttocks. There was no stopping what was about to happen, and neither of them would stop it now, even if they could.
Finally, his weight was on her and as he came up into her with one sharp thrust, she felt him reaching the deepest, most secret spot inside her. She swore she could feel him reach her womb. Hermione lifted her legs and twined them about his. She heard his breathing turn harsh. Draco built up speed, pistoning harder and harder until she could take no more and had to break the silence.
“Draco,” she begged, “please. Oh— ah!”
“Yes,” he said, his face buried in her curls. “Oh, yes. Oh, yes.”
Together, they found completion. Hermione felt a spurt of warmth as he spilled his seed inside her. He partially collapsed on top of her, held up only by his elbows. Hermione smiled up at him lazily, and then he rolled off her, already starting to fall asleep.
Noticing the green mist had vanished and no longer surrounded them, she wondered what he would say if she mentioned the leprechaun’s lucky coins, but also wondered if the coins made any difference to anything.
Curling up against him, she drifted off into sated dreams before she could decide whether or not to mention it to him before he too fell asleep.