Kisses in the Dark

This story was originally written by Beauxbatons22 who has graciously allowed me permission to rewrite and finish it! The original story (The Dark One) is still posted on Beauxbatons22’s account so I strongly recommend you show her some love!
http :// www . fanfiction . net/u/900199/Beauxbatons22
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A/N: Here we are another chapter! Now before I tell you how ecstatic I am about everyone’s attention to this story, I would like to answer some pressing concerns that people have shown regarding:
1) Draco’s behavior towards Hermione
2) Hermione leaving the shower when she was in there first.
1) Keep in mind who Draco is. He’s not Harry or Ron or someone that knows or likes Hermione. Seven years of bad blood between them (no pun intended) isn’t going to go away in the matter of 24hrs. So hostilities will still be there and it will take time to get over them.
2) Let’s face it, ladies, I don’t care if Jason Isaac stepped into the shower with me, I would still run out – then jump back in when my senses caught up with me – but everyone’s first, initial reaction when caught naked, is to bolt and cover. And with Hermione’s insecurities with her figure, there is no way she’s going to stand there naked and argue the fact with Draco. Right?
Now that I have cleared that up hopefully, I would like to thank everyone for their overwhelming support! I love reviews, especially ones telling me what I’m writing makes them laugh, think, feel or whatever. If you liked it, tell me! If not, tell me anyway! Okay, I’m done. On with the story!
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Chapter 4

Her head was pounding, and not just a little pinch, full blown thundering that had her eyes watering and her teeth aching. She was sure her brain was about to melt and trickle from her nose and ears.

Across from her at the table back at the Head’s dorm, Draco sat, unconscious of the pain shaking his study partner’s entire body. He was methodically flipping through one of the heavy books they’d pillaged from the library nearly seven hours ago. Neither of them had spoken a word since their return and that had been fine with her up until she realized they couldn’t very well work on the same project without speaking. But since they were only doing research, she didn’t bother drawing him into conversation.

When he slammed his book closed with enough force to make the table vibrate and her ears shrill, Hermione whimpered and dropped her head down on her folded arms. She pressed her eyes closed and wished she had something to calm the throbbing. The infirmary was too far and she really didn’t feel like wondering the halls when she could barely keep her head up.

Draco noticed nothing of her agony. He snatched up another book, dropped it down in front of him and flipped it open. He continued to thumb through the worn pages, reading the things that stood out the most.

Halfway through the book, he came across a potion that enhanced good-looks for wizards in their thirties and forties. He knew he wouldn’t need said potion, not when his father was prime example of how a Malfoy aged – with grace and elegance – but he was certain Crabbe and Goyle could use the stuff, especially after seeing their fathers.

He grabbed the top of the page, prepared to tear it clean out, when he paused and glanced up at his silent partner. She hadn’t moved in nearly ten minutes and if he guessed correctly from her slow, even breathing, he assumed she was sleeping.

Cautiously, he cleared his throat, waiting to see if she would glance up or shift. When she remained immobile, he quickly tore out the page, folded it and tucked it into his pocket. He then quickly closed the book and stuffed it under all the others before fixing his attention on the slumbering witch.

“Granger?”

Nothing, not even a flutter of her dark, dusky lashes.

He momentarily wondered if he should simply leave her there. It would certainly serve her right. If she’d been so exhausted, why didn’t she simply go up to bed? He surely didn’t need the company.

But just when he rose to his feet and started towards his room, something made him stop and glance back.

He hated that she looked so… vulnerable. Didn’t she know how dangerous it was falling asleep in his presence? There were a countless number of things he could do to her right then and she would never know.

“Stupid witch,” he muttered to himself.

The knot in his chest tightened when the object of his observation shivered, nuzzling into the folds of the book under her folded arms as if seeking heat.

“Stupid… fucking… stupid… ugh!” he growled and grumbled under his breath, wishing he could hit or kick something.

Well, he didn’t have a choice. He couldn’t just leave her there, he decided. She’d wake up in the morning with a bloody crick in her neck and she’d bitch, whine and complain about it and he didn’t have the patience to listen while she accused him of leaving her there. He’d rather just avoid that whole argument all together if he could.

Sighing heavily, he trudged back to her and peered down into her peaceful expression.

Gone were the frowns, the glares, and the looks of distrust. There before him she lay completely open, vulnerable in a way he didn’t understand. Her cheek was flushed, rosy beneath the long, dusky curve of her lashes. He’d never noticed how long they were before. But standing that close, he could almost count them.

Then there were her lips, parted ever so slightly to reveal small, white teeth. A long, curl lay across her jaw and just brushed her plump, bottom lip. It was the only thing mirroring her otherwise flawless features. But even as he thought it, he never dreamt that he would actually reach over, hook the coil and gently push it aside.

His heart nearly stilled when she sighed and shifted slightly.

He wondered if he should run, hide, but he found his feet frozen to the carpet, waiting, watching as she drifted back into sleep. Only then did he exhale in relief.

Stop being an idiot! A voice growled in his head.

He quickly shook himself and screwed down his resolve. And without giving thought to anything else, he bent down and scooped her up into his arms.

Bloody hell… the girl weighed nothing! He thought, trudging across the room and up the stairs towards her dorm.

He took the steps up and stopped at the portrait of a tall, stern looking witch.

“Password?” she drawled in a deep, almost masculine voice.

“How the hell would I know?” he snapped. “Just open the bloody door!”

“No.”

Draco blinked. “What?”

“I cannot without a password,” she replied, tilting her chin a little and turning it away as if the sight of him sickened her.

“Well, the Head Girl is asleep, as you can clearly see, and I don’t have the password. So, let me in!”

“No.”

A deep, guttural growl left him and he would have kicked the insolent woman if Hermione hadn’t taken that moment to stir in his arms, nuzzling the curve of his neck and making a purring sound that had his entire body tingling in a strange show of response.

Casting the indifferent woman a fierce scowl, he spun on his heels and returned to the bottom of the stairs and contemplated his next course of action.

He couldn’t take her to her bed. He couldn’t leave her at the table.

He glanced at the sofa and instantly brushed the thought aside. It looked lumpy and uncomfortable.

Well, what the hell was he supposed to do with her?

The small prickle of a thought struck him and his gaze reluctantly swerved back to the stairway, but this time, towards his door.

Could he… to his bed? Hermione Granger? Was he insane? She’d kill him! But he had to do something. He couldn’t just stand there all night holding her, although he did kind of like it.

I must be more tired than I thought! Shaking his head, he threw caution into the air and ambled up the stairway towards his room.

At the top, the wizard in the portrait arched a dark brow, staring down at Hermione. “No females allowed in the rooms!”

“Shut up and open the bloody door!” Draco growled, shifting Hermione a little higher in his arms.

“There are rules—”

“I. Don’t. Give. A. Fuck!” he snarled, kicking the bottom of the portrait. “Let me the fuck in!”

The wizard leapt back, a scowl darkening his face. “No need to get testy! I need the password!”

“Purity of blood!” he snapped, stomping straight inside the minute the door swung open.

At the bed, he jostled Hermione a little higher against his chest while maneuvering the arm at her back down to yank back the silky, green duvet. Once he had her placed onto the mattress, he reached down and began undoing her shoes, slipping them off her tiny feet and placing them on the floor beneath the bed. Then, he pulled the blanket over her, tucking her beneath them before heading into the bathroom to prepare himself for bed.

He emerged ten minutes later clad in his flannel pajama bottoms and went straight for the bed. He’d given this a lot of thought while he’d been getting ready. There was no way he was going to sleep out in the common room when the bed was large enough to avoid any contact from her. Besides, this was his room! Why should he have to leave? He was already going against everything he knew by allowing her to be there. He wasn’t going to deprive himself a good night’s rest on top of that.

That was a good enough debate for him. He was convinced. So, on the other side of the bed, he drew back the covers and slipped beneath them, keeping as far away from the other figure in the bed as possible.

When the hell did I grow a bloody conscience anyway?

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It was pitch black out when Draco was stirred awake. For a moment, he couldn’t quite recall where he was or why there was another body wiggling into his side. But the pieces quickly struck him like a two-ton boulder, jerking him instantly awake when said body grinded and thrashed in a way that was far too intimate for it not to be. Hermione’s breasts, her crotch… they were all rubbing into his side, his thigh. It was like she was trying to dry hump his leg and fuck did it ever turn him on. His erection was throbbing… painfully.

Shit… shit…

He had to do something! He had to make her stop! He had to…

Oh fuck!

Her knee nudged the bulge between his legs, nearly sending his eyeballs back into his skull. Her soft, small hand skimmed up the plane of his chest and back down, in slow, lazy strokes. The heat from her palm seared his flesh, making him hiss slightly through his teeth and shudder.

No! He couldn’t let this happen! This was Granger for fuck sakes! He should push her away! He shouldn’t let her…

Son of a bitch! His head roared when her hand brushed past the band of his pants and curled around the hard length of his cock.

Was she awake? Did she even know what she was doing? Somewhere in his fuzzy brain, he wondered if he should call her name, snap her from this torture and then… he didn’t know what, and didn’t get the chance to contemplate when she tightened her fist, dragging it up and down his shaft through the soft fabric of his pants.

Against his thigh, she continued to grind, rolling her hips and squishing her crotch into his scalded flesh. And even with the materials separating them, he could feel the moisture dampening her panties.

Dear God, what was she doing? Where did she learn…?

Whatever he was thinking vanished instantly from his mind when her hand slipped past the drawstrings of his pants and cupped him flesh-to-flesh.

Oh sweet, merciful…!

He let his eyes roll back and close as her cool fingers wrapped around his hot shaft. His hips bucked into her touch.

This seemed to please her because her pumping grew faster as did the thrashing of her hips.

He didn’t know what possessed him to do it, but he figured she was jerking him off and a Malfoy always returned the favor, so he didn’t give it too much thought when slipping his hand between her thighs and cupped her hot core. Her whimper was all the consent he needed when he pushed aside the flimsy material and sought out her sleek heat.

Shit she’s wet!

The juices were just pouring out of her and he wasted no time sinking his fingers home. Her cry of ecstasy rang through the otherwise quiet room as he pistoned inside her, rolling the pad of his thumb over her clit hurriedly.

He wasn’t going to last very long and he wasn’t about to go before her!

“Come on, baby,” he whispered hoarsely into her ear. “Come for me.”

She whimpered and moaned, grinding against his hand the way he wished she would his cock.

“Come on,” he encouraged, reaching up with his free hand and cupping her clothed breast, molding and squeezing the perfect globes into his palm.

The grip around his cock trembled, but didn’t stop, not even when he thumbed her puckered nipple and she bucked, shattering around his intruding fingers and rushing his palm with hot, sticky cream. Her wail of pleasure, the shudder of her delectable body quickly pulled him to join her and he relieved himself into her hand, groaning her name.

They lay perfectly still with only their ragged breathing filtering around them. Several minutes passed before she suddenly pulled away from him and rolled over onto her other side and continued to sleep as if nothing just happened. His come was still dripping from her fingers.

Draco just lay there, dazed and amazed. That had been the greatest orgasm he’d had in ages and they hadn’t even had sex. Who would have thought Granger was such a little freak at night? But at the same time, it irked him to think Weasley and Potter had witnessed this side of her at some point and possibly gained from it. Those sleazy bastards. He wouldn’t put it past them to take advantage of her while she was sleeping, when she didn’t know what she was doing and was vulnerable.

Idly, he brought his cream soaked fingers to his mouth and licked her off them, savoring her exotic flavor. He briefly wondered if he’d get away with it if he snuck beneath the blankets and cleaned her up. It would be for her benefit of course. Sleeping in one’s own release couldn’t be comfortable…

His cock twitched to life for the second time as he reached for the blankets, prepared to draw them down when she suddenly stirred. He quickly dropped his arm and lay perfectly still with his eyes half closed.

He watched through his lashes as she came awake. She pushed up right on the bed and glanced around. Even in the dark, he could just make out her baffled expression as she took in her surroundings. But it amused him that it took her even longer to glance down at her bedmate.

Her wide-eyed, horrified gasp nearly sent him into a peal of laughter. She was shocked to find him there, but if only she knew what she’d started only minutes before. Little Miss Perfect would probably die of fright.

Hermione stared at the slumbering form of Draco Malfoy with absolute dismay and confusion. How the hell did she get into his room? Into his bed? What the hell happened? Did she sleep with him?

Oh God! She must have! Her panties were dripping and she felt… God, she felt good!

Her hand flew up to cover her gapping mouth and she jolted when something sticky and salty smeared across her lips.

Curiously, she slicked her lips, drawing the tangy flavor deeper into her mouth. A moan of pleasure escaped her. The stuff, whatever it was, tasted incredible! She wasted no time lapping it clean off her fingers, going so far as to pull each digit into the back of her throat and suck.

Next to her, she heard a deep, rumbling sound emanate from her sleeping partner and she froze.

Shit! What the hell was she doing? This wasn’t the time for this! She had to get back to her room!

With a quick glance at Draco, she crept out of bed, grabbed her shoes and bolted out of the portrait door. She missed the smirk that curled around his lips just before the door closed behind her.

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A/N: My favorite part: Draco accusing Ron and Harry of doing inappropriate things to Hermione while she was sleeping. Lol. But I hope you guys liked it :D
More naughty things coming over the horizon! (Grins devilishly)
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