Desire

All nights should be like this. Hermione lies enfolded in Lucius’s arms, her head nestled beneath his chin, listening to his gentle breathing. She runs a hand across his chest, his nipples hardening even in sleep. Kissing his pecs lightly, she stifles a giggle.

‘Good evening, my little minx,’

‘It’s actually morning, Tuesday morning in fact,’ she whispers into his ear.

‘Hmm…’

Hermione glances at him, in the darkness she reaches for his face, her hands running across his cheeks, mouth, chin...

‘Keep going down,’ he whispers naughtily. She feels him hardening against her. She laughs softly.

‘Kiss me first,’ she says. He obliges.

Moving beneath the blankets, she touches him, stirring him to life. She shrugs the blankets off, exposing his length to the cool air. She kisses it lightly, giving his head an experimental swirl of her tongue. A low hiss escapes Lucius. She runs her hand along it, feeling the building heat. She lowers her head and takes him in her mouth. Starting slowly, she relaxes her throat to take him fully in. His hands snake down to her hair, gripping it lightly, directing her mouth to take his thrusts. She is rewarded by a loud groan.

When he climaxes, she fights her gag reflex, swallowing his hot seed.

He hugs her tightly to him, and the fall asleep again, the Gryffindor gripped by the Slytherin.

She looks out the window, and through the languid mist, sees the stars fading away, until they become faint dimples.