The Turning

Don\'t own anything except the plot. Due to Fiery Slut\'s subtle prod, and my own perviness, I decided to write this little smutty vignette. :)
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Wedded Bliss

Settled in their hotel in Athens, Draco and Hermione tipped the bellhop and shut the door firmly behind him. He smiled at Hermione and she smiled back. Funny, but they were both a bit nervous. Years of cohabitation had not prepared them for the weight of an actual wedding night. Hermione turned her back on Draco and took off her jacket, revealing a soft white blouse beneath.

Draco shrugged off his jacket as well and made a beeline for the chilled champagne on the nightstand. It opened with a soft pop. Hermione could hear the fizzing liquid dispensed into the waiting tulip shaped goblets. He came over to where she stood looking out of the window and handed her one. Hermione gave a soft chuckle.

\"I don\'t know if I should have anymore of this. I\'ve already had enough to float an oil tanker.\"

Draco laughed, \"I did manage to bring along some hangover cure.\"

\"Just in case?\" Hermione smirked.

\"Like a good Adventure Scout, I\'m always prepared, Granger.\" He drained his glass and watched as she sipped out of hers. Draco set the glass down and was mesmerized by the sight of her delicate throat working as she swallowed the bubbly.

\"So I see.\" He leaned over and brushed the hair away from her neck. She shivered a bit. \"Your fingers are cold.\"

\"Are they?\" He took her hands in his, warming his own. When Draco had spent sufficient time teasing her palms until they were tingling and sensitive, he placed his hands back on the nape of her neck. \"Better?\"

\"Mmm. Much.\" Hermione leaned back against him. Draco dropped kisses on her neck between her softly folded collar and her ear. She captured a mouthful of the champagne and kissed Draco thorougly, passing the bubbling wine from her mouth into his.

(Where in the hell did you learn that?) Draco shocked mind sent whirling out through the rest of the luscious signals firing through his synapses.

(Don\'t you worry about that, love. Just enjoy.) With that, Hermione turned off the verbal connection and tongued her husband to within an inch of his life.

Their fencing tongues roused the sleeping beast within Draco and he ripped his lips from hers. Both of them were panting as if they\'d been running a hard mile. This woman was finally his wife. This night was a long time coming. Now he intended to make her come.

Both warm and slightly giddy from kisses and champagne, they undressed each other slowly. Hermione smiled a small smile when she ran her fingers over the rose mark burned in her husband\'s arm. She felt a tingle in her own brand. And then it began. It felt like those tiny bubbles she swallowed were running in her bloodstream. As if she could float away on a surfeit of effervescence.

Hermione leaned against the window sill. She stood looking at Draco, just admiring him. He\'d grown into a fantastically beautiful man. The overly long and floppy cornsilk hair had been trimmed into a just-long-enough cut. It showed off his high cheeks and pretty little rosebud mouth. His eyebrows, strangely dark, did nothing except highlight those unusual argent eyes. They were fringed in long lashes that Hermione envied everytime she looked at them. His body was still lean, still sinewy, the musculature more defined than in his school days. He\'d outgrown the lankiness into assured thoothood. Even more envied than his lashes were his hands. They were long and large and elegant, the fingers tapering gently. They were the fingers of a piano player. Indeed, in Draco\'s younger days, Narcissa had insisted that her son learn one of the gentler arts. Thus he did play a little. The inherent delicacy of touch in those hands had not been lost when Draco gave the piano up. It had simply been transferred into his potion making. Draco had all the makings of a great potions master, had he wanted to be one. The graceful motions he unintentionally used to punctuate his speech were what one needs when preparing complicated brews. Ham-handedness was not allowed.

He had long, shapely legs that terminated in high-arched masculine feet. She stared with unabashed longing at his erection. His cock bobbed faintly at her perusal. She could see the slight moisture at its tip. In compliance with the rest of him, Draco\'s penis was long and on the slender side. She nearly chuckled as her mind came up with silly comparisons to rapiers. The circumsized head just beckoned for her touch. Hermione sent up an unconscious prayer of thanks to whatever gods existed that Draco had been so carefully crafted.

She closed her hand around his penis. The stifled sound of enjoyment was music to her ears. Hermione knew just how to stroke him to bring more of same to his lips. Her nails ran ever so lightly over the shaft and she felt Draco rise on the balls of his feet in response to her ministrations. She slipped her other hand below his cock to toy a bit with his boys. The tensing of Draco\'s face told her that the gesture was completely appreciated.

With a sly grin, Hermione slipped to her knees and licked the head of Draco\'s erection. She spread the salty fluid seeping from the tip around with her tongue. He placed a hand on the wall in front of him to brace himself. The position was such that he was slightly curled towards Hermione. It was better for her that way, as his cock was on a slight downward slope, so that her hands were free to roam.

His free hand wound itself in the still updone curls of her hair. No matter how many times she did this, he would never be able to get enough. She took the tip of his penis into her mouth, sucking lightly at first, then stronger. She wrung a tortured groan from his throat.

\"Damn Granger...\"

She chuckled and the resulting vibration was enough to make him snap to attention. Draco pulled away from Hermione and hauled her to her feet. He didn\'t kiss her. He didn\'t say anything. He picked her up and she wrapped her legs around his hips, letting gravity and careful manoeuvering do its job.

When he was buried in her to the hilt, Draco pressed her to the wall and began moving. Frankly, the added sensation of the slightly rough painted wall against her back fueled Hermione\'s arousal even more. He gripped her arse in his hands and walked over to the bed. Instead of laying down, he sat on the edge. Hermione took up where Draco left off. Feeling his chest heaving under her fingers made her want to fuck him hard. And so she did.

The sound of flesh against flesh filled the room. It was as if neither of them could get enough. Suddenly Draco flipped Hermione beneath him and pulled out. He slithered down her body and his tongue invaded her. He wormed the invading bit of muscle through her slick folds to her clit. At the touch of the prehensile flesh on her sensitive nerves, Hermione nearly screamed in pleasure. Draco flicked his tongue back and forth over the bundle of sensation and Hermione just about clawed the sheets.

He kept pressing her higher and higher and higher. When she thought she could take it no more, Draco gathered her to him and thrust hard. Hermione clutched at him and raked her sharpish nails down the skin of his back. Nothing but the sounds of their harsh breathing and the liquid slip of skin on skin could be heard. Just when Draco thought that it was over for him, he felt the tell-tale tensing of his bride\'s thighs. The tremors began and he could feel every shake and shiver that coursed through her. The undulating walls of her pussy set off a reaction in Draco and he felt himself orgasming along with her. They collapsed to the tangled sheets of the bed, too wrung out to even grin.

When Draco finally gained enough breath, he slipped away from Hermione and poured each of them a glass of water. She took it gratefully and gulped down half the contents. Draco toasted her glass with a small clink.

\"Here\'s to wedded bliss, Mistress Malfoy.\"