Watching...

Thanks for all the reviews guys!! I am trying to inject some more plot into this fic. Hope you enjoy this chapter!

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The rest of Hermione’s week was uneventful. Blaise was off on his conference so there was no playing around at work, not that she was sure she wanted to do that anyways. She considered Owling Ron, but decided against it at the last minute, settling for a quiet Thursday night. A nice relaxing bath and an early night. Hermione figured she was going to have to save her energy for the following night. She had not heard from Draco again since the night they had all spent together, and she was unsure he still wanted it to happen. Sighing, Hermione crossed to the window of her apartment, her feet bare and her body wrapped in her bathrobe. The lights were out in Draco and Pansy’s place and she frowned. They seemed to not be home, again, for the fourth night in a row, and she wondered if they had taken a holiday. She knew Pansy worked, but she was not sure about Draco. He had inherited his father’s fortune on his death, and the fact he was living in a Muggle apartment in the middle of London was rather confusing, considering his wealth. Draco could be living in a manor like the one he grew up in. Hermione shrugged, pulling at her hair and letting it down from the bun on top of her head. She had decided she would go tomorrow night and see what happened. If Malfoy told her to leave, then she would, no questions asked.

Friday at work passed uneventfully, and Hermione left early, wanting to go home, soak in the tub and work out what she would wear to Draco’s that night. She had no idea what, if anything, the blonde had planned, so in the end she decided on wearing a knee-length black skirt that floated around her thighs and a tight fitting black top, the neck-line plunging enough to reveal the smallest amount of cleavage. Leaving her hair loose but tamed around her shoulders, Hermione applied a small amount of make-up, wanting to emphasise her eyes. She had always liked her eyes, the subtle honey colour mingled with a deep chocolate brown. She smiled at herself in the mirror, butterflies dancing in her stomach. She had no idea why she was so nervous. It was only sex, and it was only an arrangement. It was not like she was going on a date with Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson.

At nine o’clock, Hermione closed her eyes, apparting blind, preying she would not be splinched. She arrived safely, finding herself standing outside Malfoy’s flat. With trembling fingers, she pressed the doorbell, hearing the sound echo through the rooms behind the door. There was no answer, and with a frown, Hermione pressed again, waiting. With an irritated sigh, she lifted her hand, preparing to rap her knuckles on the door, when it opened suddenly, startling her and causing her to jump back a step.

“I wasn’t sure you would come, Granger,” the tall blonde intoned softly, opening the door wide to allow her to enter. Hermione snuck a glance at him as she went, the nervous sensation in her stomach increasing with ferocious force. Draco was wearing a loose pair of black pants and a dark green button up shirt, the material floating around his body. Hermione guessed both pants and shirt were silk and she snorted softly.

“I was in the shower,” Draco said, waving his hand in the direction of what Hermione assumed was the bathroom. She noticed his slightly damp hair and nodded, not knowing what to say. Draco led her through the apartment, which Hermione immediately noticed was larger and more richly furnished than hers. She suddenly felt inferior, and angry with herself for coming. Draco motioned to a deep red velvet lounge, indicating she was to sit and Hermione did so, her eyes roving around the room. There were several pictures on the mantle, and a fire burnt brightly in the hearth. The floor was covered with an intricate patterned Oriental rug, the coffee and lamp tables a deep mahogany. Draco stood watching her, his eyes trailing over her body and Hermione blushed at the interested look he gave her.

“I didn’t think you’d come,” he repeated again and Hermione shrugged, trying not to look at him.

“Where’s Pansy?” she asked instead, twisting her head around as if she expected the other woman to appear at the mention of her name. Draco’s smile fell.

“Oh, she’s away on business. Last minute trip, or something. Do you want some wine? Or whiskey?” he asked quickly, one eyebrow raised.

“Wine, thank you,” Hermione answered, slipping her shoes from her feet. She hated heels. The rug was soft and delicate beneath her feet and she smiled, enjoying the gentle caress of the material. Draco disappeared, returning in an instant with a bottle of chilled white wine and two glasses. He took a seat beside her, pouring them both a glass. As he handed Hermione hers, their fingers brushed and she jumped, surprised by the sudden gush of electricity that flowed between their bodies. Draco smiled.

“You’re nervous, Granger,” he said simply. “Don’t be. If you don’t want anything to happen, it doesn’t have to.”

Hermione raised her eyebrows. “I thought that was the purpose of this visit, Malfoy.”

“It was, but I’m not going to force you. If you’re uncomfortable with it just being us then …”

Hermione shook her head firmly, setting the wine down on the coffee table. “No. It’s not that. I was just surprised you asked me to come here.”

Draco laughed. “Are you kidding? After last weekend, why the hell not? I have not had that much fun for a long time. It’s normally just Blaise, Pansy and me. It was nice having someone else there.”

“Why do it? The whole thing with Blaise. I don’t understand how you and Pansy can have a relationship and still do that. It’s a regular thing, I take it?” Hermione asked, curious despite herself. She did not expect Draco to answer, and was mildly taken aback when he did.

“I’m not sure, to be honest,” he said, sipping his wine. Hermione watched his throat work as he swallowed, wanting to lean over and kiss his neck all of a sudden. “It’s just something that happened once when we were all very drunk, and we just kept doing it.”

“But,” Hermione pressed, finding herself leaning closer to him in an effort to understand. “How does it make you feel, seeing your girlfriend with someone else all the time?”

“Can’t imagine watching Weasley fuck another woman hey, Granger?” Malfoy answered with a crude smile and Hermione scowled. “It’s quite a turn-on, actually, knowing that someone else gets as much, if not more, pleasure from Pansy as I do.”

Hermione frowned. “If this is something you and Pansy do together, then why didn’t you tell me that she had gone away? How will she feel about this? You and me?”

Draco shrugged, putting his glass down gently. “She’s slept with Blaise tonnes of times, and I haven’t been there. We have an arrangement that works and we’re happy with it. Don’t worry. She won’t sneak over and murder you in your sleep or anything, Granger.”

“Oh,” was all Hermione could say, because before she had a chance to take a breath, Draco’s lips were on hers and his body was pressed against her, his arms around her waist, pulling her closer. Hermione froze momentarily, her blood freezing, before she felt herself responding to his kiss, her lips opening, allowing his tongue to enter her mouth. Their kiss deepened, Draco’s hands moving to her thighs, slowly sliding the skirt up her body. Hermione groaned into his mouth, her own hands coming alive, running over his chest. Suddenly, she wanted to see him naked and she tugged at the shirt. Draco released her, pulling his shirt over his head, exposing his chest. Hermione sighed, bending her head to kiss and nibble at his flesh, taking a nipple between her teeth, smiling when she heard him suck in a breath. She flicked at it with her tongue, Draco’s hands tightening on her legs.

“Granger…” he choked out, gently pulling back from her. They stared at one another, Hermione feeling mesmerised by the stormcloud of desire passing through his eyes.

“What I don’t understand, Malfoy,” Hermione whispered as his hands moved higher up her thighs. “Is why you want to sleep with me, when I am sure there are other girls out there you could spend the night with.”

“I don’t know,” he answered, leaning over to kiss her neck. “I guess it was a fantasy.”

“What?” Hermione exclaimed, pulling away so she could look at him.

“Sure. Why not. Back at school … do you have any idea how many boys wanted to nail you, Granger?”

Hermione scowled. “I’d prefer not too, actually. I don’t like the idea of being ‘nailed’ by anyone really.” At the same time, Draco’s words made her curious, but she forced herself not to ask anymore about it. Draco laughed at the look on her face, reaching out a long-fingered hand to trail down her cheek, making her shiver.

“Then lets not talk about the past, okay?” he whispered, his hand slipping to the back of her neck, pulling her close to him for a kiss. Hermione closed her eyes, feeling herself dissolving under his lips. Draco let his hands drop, lifting her into his lap where she could feel his erection pressing against her. His hands slide beneath her to cup her ass and she could feel his shock. “No knickers. Granger, you naughty girl,” he grinned into her mouth, making her blush.

“I didn’t see the point,” Hermione replied rather tartly, pushing down with all her weight, Draco groaning as she pressed against his erection.

“Hermione…please. Don’t do that. You’re squishing me,” he hissed and she giggled, lifting herself off him. She reached down, tugging at the drawstring of his pants, Draco lifting his hips so she could pull them down. Hermione gazed between them, her eyes trailing over his cock, the end gleaming in the firelight. She ran the tip of a finger against it, hearing him gasp and grab her ass harder, lifting her again. Slowly, Hermione slid herself onto him, her eyes closing in pure pleasure. The more she thought about it, the more she realised that Draco was a perfect fit. Blaise was almost too big, leaving her feeling stretched, and Ron, while comfortable, was not quiet enough. With a smile at her wonderful discovery, Hermione began to move, just a little, keeping him deep inside her, rocking her hips in a circular motion. Without warning, Draco shifted her, lifting her off him. Ignoring her hiss of protest, he picked her up in his arms, walking them awkwardly to the fire, laying Hermione down gently on the grand rug.

She lay still, watching him as he lifted her skirt again, his fingers pulling down, sliding the garment off her body. He gazed at her lower half, Hermione feeling her face heat up at the hungry look in his eyes. Draco reached for her top, and Hermione arched her back, making it easier for him to pull it over her head and toss it away. They were both naked now, Draco sitting between her knees, the light from the fire flickering over his body. Hermione smiled. He was gorgeous to look at. Draco pushed her knees apart, his hands moving to cup her ass and Hermione prepared herself for the feeling of him slamming into her, but instead, he lifted her hips higher, pulling her body up until she was practically resting on her shoulders. She wrapped her legs around Draco’s neck as she felt his lips touch her clit, her mouth opening, incoherent mumbles falling from between her teeth.

Draco’s tongue flicked out, touching her outer folds and Hermione bucked beneath his hands, trying to push her body closer. He laughed against her, the gentle vibration on her clit almost making her come. Hermione opened her eyes, looking up along the line of her body. Draco’s eyes locked with hers as he sucked on her, and they continued to stare at one another as he slowly inserted his tongue inside her, the heat from his mouth flooding her body. As Hermione’s orgasm took hold of her, they did not break eye contact, and she found the experience so intimate and erotic it increased the force of the orgasm, and Draco struggled to hold her steady against him. Ron had never ever watched her come with such intensity it scared her and left her trembling with need. Breathing heavily, Draco untangled her legs, now morphed into a jelly-like substance, from around his neck, letting her body down gently. Hermione lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling, blinking rapidly. She barely registered Draco lying beside her until his fingers stroked her belly. Slowly, she turned her head to look at him, finding him staring at her seriously.

“What?” she asked, her voice shaky.

“Why did you come here, Hermione? As far as I knew, we were still … well, not entirely enemies, but not exactly friends either,” he replied, his fingers continuing to trail up and down her body, sending shivers of desire through her blood. Hermione lay and thought about his question. It was true – they were not the enemies they were at school, both of them having realised years ago when they met up at a reunion that they were beyond that behaviour now. But Draco was right – they were not friends either.

“Perhaps,” Hermione began, “that’s why this is easy. We’re not friends. We don’t have a relationship of any sort. We don’t share pleasantries…”

“I beg to differ,” Draco replied with his characteristic smirk, his fingers walking lower, until they rested between her legs, playing in her wetness. Hermione rolled her eyes at him, feeling her pulse quicken as he slipped a finger inside her, slowly withdrawing it, only to repeat the process with maddening controlled movements.

“You know what I mean, Malfoy,” she answered rather snappishly. “It’s easier for this to be just what it is…sex. Nothing more, nothing less.”

As she said these words, Hermione let her hand drop to Draco’s cock, finding his erection rock hard. She smiled as she stroked him, watching his eyes drop closed, enjoying the texture of his skin under her fingers. She slowly increased her rhythm, her hand moving to match his, still working between her legs. She lifted her knees, spreading her legs wider, a moan escaping her lips as Draco added a second finger, still moving gently inside her. His thumb snaked out to brush against her clit and Hermione’s back rose from the floor, her grip on his cock tightening so that he hissed, leaning over and biting her on the neck. Draco increased his speed, until Hermione was practically begging him to fuck her. Moving quickly, Draco positioned himself between her legs, sliding himself inside her, both of them moaning with pleasure.

He moved at such a slow pace Hermione thought she would scream with frustration and she realised, with a glance at his face, that he was teasing her, pulling out almost all the way, smiling as she bit her lip and glared at him. Draco held her still, his hands on her hips, so Hermione could not meet his slow deliberate thrusts.

“Malfoy, please, you’re driving me insane,” she whispered, clawing at his arms with her nails. He only smirked at her.

“I know.”

“You’re going to make me beg, aren’t you?” Hermione said, annoyed, as he continued to maintain the same pace. Draco rocked his hips against her, plunging in just far enough for him to brush the most sensitive spot inside her body briefly, before he pulled away again. Hermione heard herself growl at him each time he withdrew and his smirk was infuriating.

“Say it,” he demanded, slowing down until he practically stopped. Hermione bit her lip, feeling the age-old resentment for him rise in her throat, but the pleasure he was sending through her body won out, and the desire to feel every inch of him filling her made her want to scream his name. She took a deep breath and looked him in the eye.

“Fuck me, Draco Malfoy. Fuck me hard. Make me come. Make me scream,” Hermione ground out. Something flashed in Draco’s silver eyes, the light from the fire throwing his face half into shadow, and Hermione had the thought that he truly was a devil as he winked at her. Without saying a word, he sat back on his heels, pulling her up with him, grabbing her hips and slamming himself inside her. Hermione wound her arms around his neck, sinking her teeth into his shoulder as he pumped into her furiously.

“Look to the left,” he whispered to her and Hermione obliged. There was a large mirror magically positioned beside them and she gasped at the sight that greeted her. She had no idea where the mirror had come from, or when Draco had conjured it, but she didn’t care. Her eyes were transfixed, glued to her own face. She almost did not recognise herself. Her hair was a wild tangle of chestnut curls, bounding over her shoulders. Her eyes were smoky, dark and filled with desire, her lips red and swollen from Draco’s kisses, her mouth open as she panted with each time he thrust into her body. Draco’s arms were wound around her and she could see the muscles shifting beneath his skin as he lifted her up by the hips, slamming her back down onto him. His face was buried in her neck, his blonde hair gleaming in the firelight, the sweat on his back glistening golden pearls. Hermione gasped. It was a beautiful sight, and she wanted to see more.

“Turn me around,” she said huskily, her eyes on the mirror. Draco nodded, and soon she was on her hands and knees, her legs spread and Draco behind her. Hermione watched the mirror closely as he slowly inched forwards, pushing himself inside her. She glanced along the length of his body, finding Draco watching the mirror too. Their eyes locked briefly, before he turned his head away, sinking himself fully inside her, Hermione spreading her legs further, arching her back and pushing back onto him.

“Go slow,” she whispered, biting her lip. In the mirror, she could see Draco’s cock clearly as he moved in and out of her, the shape of her own ass a perfect arch of flesh. Hermione moaned, reaching down to massage her clit as Draco moved inside her. He lifted his leg, bending his knee at a right angle, and thrust deeper.

“I can’t…I need to…” he choked, beginning to increase his speed. Hermione nodded, pushing back, meeting him thrust for thrust, the pair of them moving in time with each other until Draco exploded. Hermione felt his body quiver, a deep growl leaving his throat, the sound sending her over the edge. Pulling great gasps of air into her lungs, Hermione felt her legs give out and without warning she dropped to the soft rug, Draco falling on top of her. He groaned, pulling out and rolling to the side. Hermione’s eyes began to close and she was barely aware that Draco had draped an arm around her body, pulling him to her, her back to his front. He kissed the back of her neck, feeling her shiver.

“Pass me my wand,” he murmured in her ear.

“Why?” Hermione asked in a whisper, still breathing heavily.

“You’re cold. I’ll conjure a blanket. The wand is just over there – you can reach it. I haven’t got the energy to call it to my hand,” Draco replied, nudging her ribs. Hermione sighed.

“I should go home,” she said softly. Draco bit her shoulder, making her jump.

“No. Not yet. Sleep a while first,” he said. Hermione nodded, groping drowsily around in front of her body, until her fingers closed on Draco’s wand. She handed it to him over her shoulder, and seconds later a think soft blanket had flown from nowhere, laying itself over their bodies. Hermione made to move, but Draco held her against him, and soon he was snoring into her hair. Hermione smiled, feeling her muscles begin to relax and unwind from their strenuous activity. The last thing she thought before she drifted off to sleep was how strangely nice it felt to be sleeping in Draco Malfoy’s arms.


***

Hermione woke the following morning comfortable, warm and content. She smiled, rolling over, realising at once she was not in her bed. She was still lying naked and covered with a blanket on the soft Oriental rug of Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson’s apartment. The fire still blazed in the hearth, adding to her warmth, but Draco was nowhere to be seen. Hermione frowned, sitting up slowly, keeping the blanket wrapped around her chest. Sudden panic gripped her as she looked around, and she wondered what time it was. Harry and Ginny were supposed to be dropping by her flat at ten that morning. Still clutching the blanket, Hermione scrambled over the floor, scooping up various articles of her clothing. Moving back to the fire where it was warmer, she dressed quickly, pulling shirt and skirt over her body. She ran a hand through her incredibly messy hair, and wiped the sleep from her eyes. She was extremely thirsty, and her stomach rumbled, reminding her it at been a long time since she last ate.

Hermione climbed to her feet, looking around again. The apartment was silent, and she figured Draco must have gone out, or had crept off to sleep in his bed last night. She felt a flash of anger at him for not waking her and letting her go home. She had not intended to stay the night at his place. Shoes in hand, Hermione crept towards the front door, wanting to go home and soak in the tub. As she reached for the handle, Draco’s strong husky voice spoke, making her jump and drop her shoes.

“Where are you going?”

Hermione bent over, collecting her shoes and flashed him a glare. “Home. You should have woken me, Malfoy. I really need a bath.”

“You can have one here,” the blonde replied. He was leaning casually against the kitchen doorway, dressed in a pair of slim fitted black pants and nothing else. He grinned at her, rubbing a hand through his hair. Hermione scowled, standing up straight and flicking back her hair.

“I’m hungry. I need breakfast,” she snapped, reaching again for the door handle. Draco was beside her in a second, his fingers wrapped over hers, gently pulling her hand away.

“You can have that here too,” he said in a low voice, and then snickered. “Not a morning person, hey, Granger?”

“Shut it,” Hermione hissed, pushing him away from her. “I’m going home now. I’m expecting visitors at ten.”

Draco smiled, reaching out and pulling her towards him quickly, their bodies crashing together. “It’s only eight thirty,” he whispered, bending his head to kiss her neck. Hermione pulled back from him, staring at him in confusion.

“Malfoy, you can’t want to…again…now,” she said in disbelief, her eyes widening as he pulled her back into his body. She could feel his erection through her clothes, pressed against her belly. “You’re unbelievable,” she added, shaking her head. Draco laughed.
“Morning glory, Granger. You’re not really going to leave me like this, are you?”

“Yes, I am actually. This was not part of the deal. I was meant to go home last night,” Hermione snapped, feeling incredibly irritated with him. “Why didn’t you wake me? Why did you let me stay asleep? Is Pansy back?”

Draco sighed, rolling his eyes. “Firstly, you didn’t tell me you didn’t want to stay. Secondly, you were sleeping so deeply I didn’t want to wake you, and thirdly, Pansy is not here, and she won’t be back until Monday.”

“You still should have waken me,” Hermione mumbled, and Draco let her go, watching her as she stepped away from him. They looked at one another, Hermione unsure if she should ask was it going to happen again. She turned away from Draco’s eyes, reaching again for the door handle, but his hand shot out, closing around her wrist.

“Get rid of your visitors and spend the day with me,” he whispered urgently. Hermione felt her eyes widen.

“No,” she said instantly, watching him frown. “This is meant to be a casual … well I’m not even sure what it is meant to be. But it is most certainly not meant to mean we go on a date, or whatever.”

“Why not?” Draco countered quickly, staring into her eyes. Hermione frowned.

“But…what about Pansy? You can’t ask me out on a date when you have a girlfriend,” she said shrilly, finding herself beginning to panic. Draco shrugged.

“Pansy and me…it’s a bit of an open-door policy, Granger. We see whom we want, when we want. It’s what works for us. Right now, I know she is in Paris, probably in Blaise’s bed, and that’s fine with me, because right now, I want you to be in my bed again…well, on my rug at least,” the blonde laughed, winking. Hermione stared at him, utterly bewildered, until he shrugged again. “Is it so strange to think I want to see you again? I do. As soon as possible. Last night was…well, it was fantastic.”

Hermione stood and chewed her lip, trying to decide if he was being sincere. She had enjoyed herself, there was no doubt about it, but she was not sure this was what she wanted. Dating Draco Malfoy. The thought almost made her laugh, but then, she recalled his words – we see whom we want, when we want - and she felt herself begin to smile. It was basically what she had suggested to Ron, and the fact that Draco did have a girlfriend would mean there was no chance of him developing any real feelings for her, or her for him. Slowly, Hermione nodded.

“Okay. But, it has to be later. Harry and Ginny are coming over,” she scowled as Draco rolled his eyes, “and I haven’t seen them in ages, so you can come over after they leave, if you want. That’s my offer. I don’t feel like going out anywhere.”

Draco nodded, smiling. “I’ll bring the wine,” he said simply, grabbing her and crushing her against him, kissing her deeply and passionately, Hermione’s head spinning. She didn’t realise she was standing in the hall with her shoes in her hand and a dazed expression on her face until she heard him shut the door.