Her Shoes

Thank you t_stevenson for your magic, friendship and partnership.



Here is part 2 of the Huarache Boots. There’s a bit of real Draco fun in this chapter. The lingerie is from Agent Provocateur, such delicious knickers! RAWR!



Again, this is dedicated to silverotter1 for her amazing work on the banner.



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Trying to unravel the meaning behind Cecilia’s words made the butterflies in Hermione’s stomach dance wildly and her pulse race erratically.



After taking her leave of Cecilia’s portrait, she let herself into Draco’s rooms and got to work immediately, partially in an effort to push the decidedly personal conversation with Draco’s grand-mère from her mind and peruse at a later date. Thinking about the conversation gave her a headache and made her dream up scenarios that she had no business concocting.



No, it was better to stay focused on work.



So here she was, several hours had past along with a lovely tea service, stretching her arms above her head after having thumbed through A History of Ancient Celtic Elemental Spells and glad that she had gotten more comfortable by removing her robes. The day was nearly over but she wanted to research one more spell. She glanced at a footnote, marked her place, set the book down then walked over to Draco’s desk to riffle through the stack of tomes piled high on his desk.



Hermione groaned at the knot in her neck and rubbed the back of her neck as she set down another book from the pile to cross-reference a spell.



“Hmmm, not here. He must have returned it to the library.”



Hermione crossed the room and opened the door to Draco’s library. It was a glorious and spacious room. Wall-to-wall bookshelves lined the fifteen -foot room from floor-to-ceiling. Each wall-lined bookshelf had its own two-foot wide sturdy rolling ladder that reached to the ceiling. In the middle of the room was a modest seating area, an oversized red leather metal-studded ottoman served as a table and rested on an oversized shaggy rug. Two taupe suede chaises flanked a matching sofa. The roof of the library was charmed with hundreds of small floating lights that would hover down to wherever a reader might be, offering enough illumination to ably read the pages.



Hermione loved this room.



Knowing that she wouldn’t be able to just summon the book given Draco had placed a charm on the room preventing any summoning spells because he enjoyed using the ladders; she resigned herself to getting the book the old-fashioned Muggle way. She bit her lower lip in concentration and moved the rolling ladder on the far right wall closer to the left corner. Testing the first rung, she carefully placed her booted foot onto the rung and began to cautiously climb to the very top of the bookshelf.



“Honestly, where would he have returned that book? “ She’d yet to decipher his cataloguing system, which made finding the book she was looking for all the more challenging. “Alright Hermione, take your time, no rush, climb slowly, don’t forget to, hold on and remember to breathe.” The higher she climbed the more she mumbled, “Only Draco Malfoy would be perverse enough to place a charm on a room from using magic for Merlin’s sakes.”



When she reached the top, she scanned the line of books until spotting The Magic of the Elements: Theory and Practice. “There you are . . . ooh . . .” Stretching too far, Hermione nearly toppled off. “Well, that was close, Hermione old girl. Hmm, let’s see if I can push this ladder over just a bit.”



She placed her hands on one of the shelves and attempted to pull and push the rolling ladder within arm’s reach of the book. Just a bit more and she would almost have it . . .



“Granger, for fuck’s sake. What are you doing?” A steely voice reverberated through the room.



Startled, Hermione grasped the ladder with both arms. “Dra . . . Malfoy?”



“Who else would it be? What the fuck are you doing up there? I thought you were afraid of heights!”



Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Draco’s body framed against the door. “Not of heights, just flying. I was looking for a book.”



“You look more like you’re trying to get yourself killed. Get down from there right now.” In a few short strides, he was at the base of the ladder looking up at her, disapproval in every line of his body.



Oh goddess, could he see up her skirt? “But the book . . .”



“Fuck the book, I’ll get it. Down, now!” His voice brooked absolutely no argument and that demanding tone shot straight to her core, tightening things low in her body! It was hard to breathe and swallow, let alone move when he spoke that way to her.



“Granger? I’m waiting,” he growled.



“Coming.” At least she’d like to be. No, bad Hermione. Oh Merlin, she was fine until he showed up.



“So help me, if I have to come and get you . . .”



“No, its fine, I’m climbing down. I was just getting my bearings, you frightened me.” Leading with her right, then left, she gingerly descended the ladder stopping when she felt Draco’s body behind her.



“Uh, Malfoy? Can you please back up a bit? I can’t get down with you so close; it’s just a few more rungs.”



She nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt his body press up against hers, his hands gripping the rails barring any further movement.



She sensed rather than felt his lips by her ear as he pulled her hair away from her face and neck. “What are you wearing?” His voice low and soft. Was that a flick of tongue?



Her pussy pulsed as liquid desire dampened the tiny black mini-ruffled thong she’d purchased the prior weekend with Pansy and Ginny. “Uh . . .”



“Did you wear this for him?” Draco tugged her dress gently at her hips then pushed the full length of his body into her back. She could feel his muscles tense as he pressed into her further trapping her between his body and the ladder.



She closed her eyes when he began to thrust his hips into the crevice of her bottom, dear goddess he felt enormous. “M-M-alfoy?”



“Shut up Granger. I asked you a question, what are you wearing.”



“C-c-clothes?” Honestly, how could he expect her to answer coherently while grinding into her with what felt like a glorious-sized cock against her ass? Her body flared with need, she was melting and growing wetter with each push of his hips and growled commands.



“Hmm. What about the boots? Did you wear those for him?” His hand slowly inched around her legs to feather across her knee and trail up under her short shift. His fingers painted slow, lazy circles from her inner to outer thighs.



‘Oh goddess, please, please, move those fingers a little higher, please touch my pussy Draco,’ she prayed silently. Her breaths were turning into short, quick gasps.



“Granger? I’m waiting.”



Waiting? Oh, yes, he was waiting for her to answer. “Yes . . . No. I don’t know.” One of his hands moved up her hip, over her stomach, along her ribs to her breast; alternating between gentle massages and hard pinches to her nipple.



“Oh, oh, oh.” Hermione gasped.



“Yes or no? Which is it Granger?”



His fingers played with her, drawing frivolous, enthralling patterns on her soft sensitive flesh. “Oh, please.” She pushed her bottom out seeking more contact with his hips but he denied her the contact and kept her at bay.



Suddenly he pulled away and whispered, “Turn around.”



“I can’t,” she panted.



“Yes, you can. I’ll help you, turn around.”



Hermione opened her eyes and loosened her grip on the rails. She twisted her body around on the ladder, bringing one arm behind her while raising the other for support. Draco grasped her waist, holding her securely. When she had turned around completely on the ladder, she held her hands to the sides lightly clutching the rails, her heels hooked securely onto the rung. She then got a good look at Draco.



Oh gods, he was so beautiful.



He was dressed in a sleek, tailored black suit, crisp white collared, pale lilac shirt with French cuffs, and a purple and sky blue woven tie. His eyes, both mercurial and full of desire, seemed to bore straight into her soul. He drank in the sight of her, his eyes then roaming over her body possessively.



“Raise your arms and clasp your hands on the highest rung you can reach. Do not speak.”



A wave of desire coiled low in her body as she obeyed without question. Her body yearned for his touch, she felt as if she was burning up, her need so hot, so great, so licentious.



“Don’t move.” He stepped back from her, shrugging out of his suit jacket and throwing it onto one of the chaises. He loosened his tie then removed his cuff links and began to roll up his sleeves all the while never breaking eye contact with her.



Hermione remained motionless and silent. Her body flushed with excitement. He moved swiftly towards her and caged her with his arms and hard length.



“I believe I asked you a question. I want an answer.”



Hermione gulped as she felt her cheeks burn and her clit tingle. “I-I just wanted to look nice.”



“For Pucey.” He snarled.



“No,” she whispered softly. “Not really.”



“For who then?”



She swallowed the lump in her throat before sighing quietly, “For you.”



It was as if time stood still and there was only the two of them in existence. She thought she heard a low growl emanate from him before his tongue traced over her lips and his mouth claimed hers. She willingly parted her lips as he bit and licked her mouth open plunging past her lips as soon as they parted for his invasion.



Oh, his kiss. There were kisses and then there were kisses. Kissing Draco Malfoy was like basking in the glorious warmth of the sun and she could feel it throughout her entire body. No kisses that came before or after him would compare.



He tasted of both fire whiskey and hot cinnamon spice, he tasted so right to her . . . he tasted of home. She nearly forgot to breathe as he devoured and possessed her body and soul in that one searing kiss. Moaning when his mouth left hers, she lifted her hands to pull him back towards her but he forced them back to the rung.



“I told you not to move. Be a good girl and obey.”



She put her arms back over her head as his body slide down hers, until he came to her knees. His hands travelled up her leather boots past her knees to her thighs and finally underneath her shift dress. He pulled up her dress bunching it at her hips, her lower body exposed to his sight. Seconds passed, he seemed mesmerized by her silky satin thong. Finally, when Hermione thought she would scream from need, his fingers brushed the tiny ruffled edge before hooking into the black satin and slowly pulling her knickers down her legs and over her boots. He gently helped her step out of them, first her right foot then the left.



Rather than tossing them to the floor, he tucked the bit of black satin into his pocket. She highly doubted she would get those back. His hands returned to her thighs pushing up her dress once again and lifted her leg hooking one knee over his shoulder.



Merlin, no, he wouldn’t? Would he? ‘Oh yes, please,’ she silently pleaded as her chest rose and fell faster.



He nudged her other leg wide until it was at the very edge of the ladder. Deliberate. Oh yes, he very definitely was Hermione thought as his eyes glanced up to look into hers. He gave a slight smirk then leaned in and nuzzled his nose into the soft trimmed curls of her mound.



“Draco, please,” she pleaded as her eyelids fluttered shut. She felt his fingers dip into her slick folds towards her pulsing sex.



“Fuck, you smell so good.” That was the last thing she heard before she felt his tongue invade her core, his mouth devouring her as if she was succulent Sugar Quill.



“Draco.” Her head lolled back softly hitting the rungs of the ladder. She felt his tongue latch onto her clit. He sucked and licked until she felt as if she would burst. Her back arched up, she could feel her nipples hardened. She ground herself into his demanding lips and mouth.



She lifted her other leg up to hook on his other shoulder as he continued to lick, suck and nibble her tiny nub until she was a mass of quivering nerves. Holding on to the rung of the ladder, she bucked violently when he thrust his tongue into her hot center, mumbling, “Yes, yes, Draco.” He built a steady rhythm with his tongue, mouth and fingers, teasing and tasting, keeping her on edge. She was lost in a haze of sensations as she uttered his name over and over again.



She moaned wildly and with abandon, her hips thrust up towards him as if offering herself to him when she felt his tongue brush flat against her clit. Draco hummed his approval at her reaction and repeated the motion slowly then faster. Her body burned as he hummed into her hard little button increasing the forceful swipes of his tongue. Unexpectedly, he latched onto that tender bundle of nerves sucked vigorously and painfully hard. Her body tightened and the pressure that had been building slowly within her body suddenly exploded. A wave of pleasure laced with a touch of pain washed over her.



She heard herself cry out Draco’s name in a loud and hoarse reverent mantra.



Draco lapped at her juices while she rode her orgasm in a foggy haze of delicious joy. Soft, lazy kisses pressed to the inside of her thighs slowly brought her back to reality. She felt her legs lowered and placed back on the rungs. Her eyes still closed, she sighed contently. She felt his arms cradle and lift her from the ladder. Nuzzling her face into his chest, she wondered where he had found the strength to carry her after his magnificent performance.



Happy in his arms, she stifled a moan when she felt him lower her onto the sofa.



“Hermione.” Draco’s voice was low, soft. “Open your eyes.”



Her eyes fluttered opened, she found herself lying on the settee in front of the fireplace. She smiled bemusedly at him seeing his face was still glistening with her juices. Draco knelt beside her, his hands curved tenderly around her face. He pushed little strands hair from her eyes then let his hands drop down. Suddenly, he stood up, looked impassively down at her and pulled out a white handkerchief to wipe his face clean. He looked so unaffected by what had just occurred.



Icy fear clenched her heart.



“You should go. You don’t want to keep Pucey waiting.” Draco stated dispassionately and coldly.



Hermione blinked. Had he just said . . . Oh. Gods. She was going to be sick. Merlin, had he just used her?



Pain pierced her heart as his words registered. She fought tears that threatened to spill and choked back a sob. She quickly scrambled to her feet, pushing him away as she rushed from the settee. She needed to get away from him.



Dashing to her desk, she grabbed her robes and bag then stumbled blindly from the room through the portrait gallery, barely registering Cecilia’s worried cries, down the stairs and to the blue sitting room fireplace. Her fingers trembled as she fumbled for the Floo powder.



Barely holding back the floodgate of tears, she cried out in a hoarse whisper, “Hermione Granger’s Office.”



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Oh Draco, what were you thinking?



Thank you to everyone who reads and reviews or doesn't. I appreciate all your words of encouragement and support.