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At eight am July 1st, Draco stood outside of the Granger’s house, waiting on Hermione to open the door. He didn’t know why, but he was nervous. In the week between graduation and their holiday, he had met with her twice. Once in the Leaky Cauldron under assumed aliases and once in his flat in London. When Hermione had left his flat in London she had forgotten her hairbrush. Draco kept in on the sink in his bathroom because it made him feel better. Every other night in the past week, he had spent the moments before bed looking at pictures of her. He kept the one of her on the window seat in their old common room with him at all times and he wanked off to the one of her masturbating in his house tie. He could have easily found entertainment elsewhere, but for some reason he wanted only Hermione. For awhile he thought that maybe she had put a love spell on him. That wouldn’t have been true though, because if he was under the effects of a love spell he would be willing to do anything for her, including give her the negatives of those damning photos. As it was, he was willing to do almost anything to GET her, not do anything FOR her.

When the door finally opened he was looking at a flushed Hermione who was wheeling one large suitcase and had a garment bag thrown over her shoulder. Taking both items he shrunk them and put them in his pocket.

“Where are your parents?” he asked, curiously looking in her front door. She stepped back to let him in and he surveyed the stylish, comfortable setting. The Grangers it seemed were definitely teetering on the edge of upper class and for some reason this pleased Draco.

“They had to leave last night to help my brother with something in Liverpool.” She was watching him walk around her living room and he knew what she was thinking. He was invading her private space. This was sacred to her, it was where she had grown up. Thinking of a two year old Granger toddling around this living room almost made him grin.

“Well, where’s the rest of your stuff and I’ll shrink it as well.”

“What do you mean, ‘the rest’? That’s all I’ve got.”

“I thought I told you to go shopping,” he said. If that was all the clothing she was taking, that simply wouldn’t do.

“I did! How much clothing do you honestly think I’ll need? It’s only three weeks.”

Sighing, Draco put his head in his hands. He’d just have to take her shopping once they got there. He dearly hoped she had something suitable for dinner tonight in the garment bag.

“Lock your front door,” he told her. “And then come here.” Hermione did as she was told, stopping just in front of him. He closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around her waist. “Put your arms around me, and hold on.” Bending down to kiss her he apparated them both.

When the squeezing sensation finally stopped, Hermione broke away from him and teetered backwards.

“Why did you do that? It’s dangerous to apparate so far!” Draco just grinned at her. He enjoyed having her yell at him the way she used to yell at Potter and Weasley. It made him feel good to get her riled up. He listened to her rant a few more moments before she suddenly trailed off taking in her surroundings. She was standing on a beautiful, private beach in front of a beautiful white house with a gorgeous garden in front. Watching her jaw drop, Draco felt very smug. He was happy that he could stop her infamous mouth with one of his houses.

The Italian Villa was made in the neo-classical style and actually rather small in comparison to Malfoy Manor, but a family of five could live quite lavishly in the house’s five bedrooms. Taking Hermione’s hand, Draco pulled her along the pathway up to the house. Opening the door, he led her into the tiled entry way and watched her gaze at her surroundings in wonder.

“This is your family’s vacation home? It’s beautiful!”

“Well, my great-grandfather had this house built in the late nineteenth century because Castel dell’Ovo was too drafty to stay in and it made him more money as a tourist attraction.”

“You mean to tell me that your family owns the Castle of the Egg? The one that Virgil supposedly built around an egg?”

“Of course we own it. It’s stayed in the family. Virgil, although a great poet in the muggle world, was actually a brilliant sorcerer and wizarding engineer. The Castle is not far away, it’s about a mile down the beach to Borgo Marinan, the town we’ll be gathering supplies in. There’s a disillusionment charm around this property, so no muggles will bother us. Borgo Marinan actually has a rather large wizarding population, so it won’t be so bad while we’re here.”

Moving up the stairs, Hermione followed Draco into the master bedroom. Decorated in midnight blue and silver, the room had a large, king-sized bed in the middle with two large closets on either side of it. There were more pillows arranged on the bed than Hermione had probably ever owned in her lifetime. Watching her take in her surroundings, Draco couldn’t help but notice how well she seemed to fit in the room. She may not have been born into high society, she had enough social grace that she fit into well. She had only remarked on the home’s beauty and history, not the price range.

Removing both his and her suitcases from his pocket, he turned them back to their correct size and summoned a house-elf to have the items put away in the closets. Hermione had just come back in from inspecting the ridiculously large bathroom and he stared at her, suddenly feeling awkward. What did one do when on vacation with a lover? Clearing his throat, he asked, “What would you like to do first?”

“Well, to be perfectly honest, I’d like to take a swim. The water is beautiful.”

“Okay, find your bathing suit and let’s go.” Hermione walked over to the closet and located the little dresser inside and extracted not only her bikini, but Draco’s swim shorts as well. Bringing them both out, she handed Draco his shorts and smiled at him shyly before removing her clothes. He’d seen her do it a thousand times, but Draco still got hard watching her strip. Deciding that he didn’t want their first time in this bedroom to be a quickie he walked into the bathroom to change, away from her tantalizing body.

When he emerged again he found her dressed in a black halter top bikini with a yellow and orange patterned sarong wrapped around her waist, accentuating her hips. She was barefoot and that somehow made her seem fragile. Handing him a towel, she allowed herself to be led to the waterfront, where they dropped their belongings on the shoreline and dove for the water.

Draco was surprised to find that Hermione was actually quite an accomplished swimmer. She had never shown any athletic tendencies while at Hogwarts, so he often wondered what she did to give her such fine leg muscles. They swam around each other for awhile before Draco finally reached out and grabbed her waist, pulling her to him. Taking her out to where he knew she couldn’t touch, he turned her to face him, wrapping her legs around his waist.

“If you weren’t here with me, where would you be right now?” he asked as the ocean’s current lazily rocked them back and forth, rubbing them against one another’s bodies.

“Probably at home, going over my resume or in London with Harry and Ginny.” He noticed that she left Ron and Lavender out. He knew she still harbored some feelings for the redheaded git and he wished it didn’t bother him.

“So you would either be increasing your bookworm status or bored to tears in Diagon Alley? Well, I’d say it’s pretty lucky that you came along then. Hot sex on a secluded beach sounds much better.” She giggled and held onto him as a particularly large wave almost upset them.

“What about you?” she asked, “What would you be doing?”

“Probably listening to Blaise Zabini talk about his latest virgin or watching Crabbe and Goyle make eyes at each while desperately attempting to look as heterosexual as possible. Or I might be at Club Verde getting my dick sucked by whichever witch wants a shot at being the next Mrs. Malfoy.” If Hermione was bothered by his last statement, she didn’t show it.

“So Crabbe and Goyle are together? While odd, I find that strangely sweet.” She smiled at him and it was almost one of the real ones that she reserved only for Harry, Ron and Ginny.

“Yes, they’ve been ‘experimenting’ since fourth year and after a particularly nasty incident involving Goyle and Smith from Hufflepuff, are now quite happily committed to one another.” Draco pulled Hermione to him and sucked at the juncture of her shoulder and neck whilst shuddering at the memories of nights when the two forgot to put up a silencing charm in the dormitories.

Giving a slight giggle, Hermione said, “Well at least somebody found true love.” Draco didn’t explore her statement further and they spent the rest of the morning swimming or resting on the beach in the sunshine. A house elf brought them lunch and cocktails, although Draco noticed that Hermione was exceedingly careful not to over imbibe.

At about four thirty in the afternoon, they went back to the house and Draco insisted on taking a shower together. Enjoying the sensation of her body against his as they had sex, he relished the thought of spending the next three weeks with her. When they were done, she picked out a flirty, black dress to wear and he wore a black button-up shirt that matched. They went out to eat and then went dancing at a wizard night club he knew about. Hermione was surprised at how adept he was on his feet and he was pleased to see a number of other men checking her out. He’d always loved to make others jealous.

When they arrived back at the house, Hermione took her pumps off her aching feet and fell backwards on the bed with her delicate calves dangling over the edge. He removed his shoes and shirt before joining her by laying himself down on top of her deliciously soft curves.

“I have to say, that was a truly enjoyable day,” she smiled up at him.

“You mean it wasn’t pure torture? I have to say that you’re probably the best accessory I’ve ever brought on holiday.” He began to slowly kiss his way down her neck, undoing the tie in the back of the dress. He stopped when he felt her stiffen under him.

“Is that all I am to you? Some ‘accessory’ to heighten the enjoyment of a good time?” Crap. He’d have to tread carefully.

“No, but don’t pretend you came here just because I asked. You wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t blackmailed you,” he said accusingly.

“And why are you still blackmailing me? Couldn’t you have just found some stupid, pure blooded slut to come along with you? There were plenty of girls in that club tonight who would have gone home with you in a heartbeat. Why me?”

And here Draco got nervous because he couldn’t let her know what she did to him. He couldn’t let her know how important she was becoming to him. He couldn’t tell her the real reason that he didn’t want any other girl, and hadn’t since the first night they’d shagged. He couldn’t tell her, ‘Because they’re not you’ and have her bask in the glory of the power she held over him. Instead he gave her the reason he’d first decided that shagging her was fun.

“I want you because you’re a bloody good shag and because I know you aren’t trying to trick me into impregnating you so that you can get half my money. When you have an orgasm, I know it isn’t fake just to stoke my ego and when you suck my dick I know it’s because you want to get me off. You of all people have every reason to just lay there under me and let me get off twice a week and you don’t; you’re an active participant. Shagging you is fun and I don’t have to constantly be on the watch or worry that you want to tie me down.”

“Not that tying you to the bed hasn’t crossed my mind,” she said wickedly and he smirked back at her. Bondage was one area that they hadn’t gotten very far into and he was glad she was up for it. Suddenly, a thought occurred to him: how far exactly had she gone with anyone else before he made the rule about no sharing. She’d been a virgin that fateful night, but she had a voracious sexual appetite. Where had she learned half of that?

“Hermione,” he tested saying her name out loud and found he liked it. “How many people have you been with other than me?”

She looked at him oddly before answering, “You know I’ve only ever been with you.”

“No, I mean how many guys have you snogged and how far have you gotten with each of them?”

“I really fail to see how this is ANY of your business,” she replied turning pink.

“It isn’t, but I’d appreciate it if you’d tell me for research purposes.”

“Fine. I got my first kiss when I was thirteen from a muggle boy called Stephen Musgrave. In fourth year, Viktor Krum and I did a lot of snogging and touching, but it always stayed above the waist and over the bra. In sixth year, I was mauled by Cormac MacLaggen at Professor Slughorn’s party and then in seventh Ron kissed me a few times under the tree by the lake and then came you.” Draco noticed how her voice quavered slightly when it came to Weasley. Seriously, she needed to forget about that prat. Daphne Greengrass had slept with him in sixth year and informed everyone that not only was he an oaf on the quidditch field, he was also an oaf in bed. Hermione would have been completely wasted on him.

“So, I’m the only man to have ever seen you naked?” he asked, pulling the top of her dress down to bring her perfectly rounded breast into view. Running his hand over her mounds, he played with her dusky pink nipples and watched them harden into peaks. Pulling her dress all the way off her body he followed the dip between her rib cage and hip with his broad hand, exploring every possible curve of her body, memorizing it.

“Other than a doctor, yes,” she breathed as her eyes began to darken. Reaching up to his hair, Hermione threaded her hands through the white blonde locks before smoothing her hands down his chest. Her cool fingers traced his muscles before reaching around to his back to dig her nails in as she brought them from his shoulders down to his hips making thin red lines appear on his pale skin.

“Then how is it that you’re so bloody good at this?” he hissed, grinding his erection into the juncture of her thighs.

“The same way I get good at everything: I do research and I have a thirst for knowledge.”

Draco frowned. “How can you learn about sex from a book? I’ll buy that whole ‘thirst for knowledge’ bit because you certainly were eager that night, but you can only go so far with words on a page.”

“Well, it seems to be good enough to get you off,” she replied. “How about I give you an example?”

“Be my guest,” he smirked.

Hermione flipped him so that she was on top, straddling him. She leaned forward and kissed him very gently before moving her lips down his neck, to his shoulders and onto his chest. Sliding off the bed she let her dress fall to her ankles and stepped out of it leaving her in nothing but a black thong. Kneeling before the bed, she reached up to his pants and unzipped the black, expensive piece of clothing, pulling the fly apart to expose his hips and the green satin boxers he’d worn that day. Trailing her tongue of his hip bones, she lowered both his pants and his boxers until his cock sprang free, bouncing in her face.

“When performing felatio, it is always important to be well hydrated,” she began, accioing a bottle of water, she took a drink from the frigid bottle and then blew her cold breath on Draco’s proud, erect organ. His cock twitched and he held her smoldering gaze as he watched her lick stray drops of water from her red lips. “When beginning, start with the head of the penis, kissing and licking your way around the sensitive, textured skin.”

Draco hissed as Hermione caressed the head of his cock with her lips, not actually kissing it. She then gave the very tip an open mouth kiss, swirling her tongue around the ridge at the head of his organ. Slowly, she began to lubricate the head with her saliva, taking more into the hot wet cavern of her mouth.

“Take your hand and wrap it around the length of your partner’s shaft lightly, using soft, gentle strokes to stimulate him.” Hermione did as she said, while still pressing soft gentle kisses to the head. “Slowly take more into your mouth, only about an inch or so at a time. Use you tongue and lips to gently massage what you can fit of your partner in your mouth.”

Using long, lazy strokes around him, Hermione licked and sucked at Draco while keeping a steady rhythm with her hand. Draco was going absolutely insane. There was something highly erotic about her breathy, know-it-all voice giving him a play-by-play of what was happening to his cock. He put one hand into her hair and tried to push her head closer, but she stopped him.

“When you are ready, relax the back the back of your throat and insert your partner as far back as you are able.” Draco gasped as the head of his manhood and more went down the impossibly tight back of her throat. The squeezing action of her throat as she pushed and pulled his member back down and out again brought him almost to his climax, before she stopped and spoke again. Keeping her lips against his penis so that he could feel the vibrations, she purred, “This is called deep throating.”

Draco was sweating and silently begging her to keep doing what she was doing and also to just let him finish already. She continued to suck at him and use her hands and lips to create a variety of sensations around his most sensitive organ. He could feel his orgasm slowly building and when his ball sac seized, she pressed her thumb at the base of his penis and sucked like a hoover vacuum. His orgasm hit him and he saw stars as pleasure waves wracked his body. She realized the pressure of her thumb and his semen shot out, covering her chest and breasts. She pumped her hand while quietly speaking.

“When your partner is close to orgasm, place slight pressure at the base of his penis. This will prevent the sperm from escaping as quickly and prolong his orgasm. When you are ready, suckle him in earnest before letting go and allow him to ejaculate onto your chest. Most men find this to be a pleasurable sight and many women enjoy the feel of semen on their skin.”

Draco lay, spent on the bed, his pants around his ankles and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the little minx in front of him. Eyes darkened with lust, he could tell that she had gotten aroused by having that much control over him and her book had been correct; he had never seen a more erotic sight than Hermione Granger, with her lips swollen and nipples hard, covered in his cum.