Paper Faces on Parade

Section 9:

Everything was a bit of a blur after that. Hermione only barely remembered sneaking out into the garden so they could slip through the front door and grab their cloaks without having to walk through the whole ballroom and speak to the people that they passed. The only thing she clearly remembered was when he kissed her, there in the garden; kissed her so thoroughly that she was afraid for a moment that he would be obliged to carry her the rest of the way since she wasn’t sure how she could *stand* much less walk after a kiss like that.

They fetched their cloaks quickly and headed back outside where he pulled her into another dizzying kiss as he wrapped the cloak around her shoulders, pinning it carefully into place and relishing all the small touches he could contrive against her hair and neck. Wrapping his arms firmly around her body, underneath the cloak so only the thin material of her costume separated his hands from her skin, he pulled her into another kiss as he apparated her to his apartment.

By the time they popped in to his living room, Hermione was ready to remove his costume with her *teeth* if he didn’t get to the disrobing part of the evening soon. His hat had been knocked off in the enthusiasm of their kisses, and the masks were, likewise, quick to go when they got in the way, but no other clothing was shed, and it was driving her *mad*. No kiss she had ever experienced had affected her like his, and she was aching to see what else he could do with that marvelously talented mouth. All thoughts of fear over how long it had been since her last time with a man vanished from her mind. ‘Like riding a bicycle,’ everyone always said. Making love wasn’t something you forgot how to do. All the rhythms of rubbing and touching were coming back to her and she knew for sure and certain that Leo was a bicycle that would give her one hell of a ride.

He kept kissing her, pressing her against the door and tugging off both her cloak and his, but making no move to take off any more clothing. Hermione growled, when she separated from his mouth enough so that she could draw breath. He was driving her insane and they were both still fully dressed! If he didn’t get bloody started bloody *soon* then she’d bloody well go ahead and die on him and become a *real* ghost, punishing him by following him around everywhere that he went and announcing that he had aroused her to death.

“Need you,” she whimpered, tugging feverishly at his shirt, eager to get to bare skin. He pushed her hands to the side, chuckling at her growl of frustration, before sweeping her up into his arms to carry her into his bedroom. She did her best to distract him as they went by unfastening the as much of his shirt and she could reach, and paying very detailed attention to his neck and chest with her fingers and lipslips.

When they reached the bedroom, he laid her very gently on the bed before pulling away. Hermione held her arms out, waiting for him to join her, but instead he knelt at her feet. Hermione gasped when she felt him gently remove her shoes before lowering his head to kiss her feet, massaging them firmly as he planted a soft kiss on each toe, and then in a line up to her ankle. She shifted her unoccupied foot between his legs, rubbing it against his erection, and was shocked when he captured that foot in his hand, and transferred his attentions to it, not allowing her to return the favor as he pleasured her all the way from the ground up.

This was new and more than a little frightening to her. Harry had been her first and only lover, and foreplay with him consisted of actually getting undressed before he entered her. He was far more likely to pounce on her as soon as they entered any moderately secluded location than to take the time to go slow and pay her any special attention or see to her own pleasure before attending to his. [Hermione gasped as Draco’s lips slid up her legs, kissing and caressing her calves, soothing the tension that high heels always caused her from the muscles with his hands while preparing her for more amorous attentions with his lips.]

Before they had gotten together, Hermione had always imagined that Harry would be a somewhat shy lover, passionate but uncertain, wanting to bring his partner pleasure but not knowing quite how to accomplish it. After all, Harry was constantly uncertain about his love life for as long as Hermione had known him. Hermione had coached him through one girlfriend after another and had held his hand through more than few broken hearts when he realized that yet another girl he was truly beginning to care for couldn’t be brought to see him as anything other than The Boy Who Lived. [Draco’s hand slid further up her thigh to reach her garter belt, unsnapping the stocking and rolling it slowly and sensuously down her leg while he continued to kiss and caress her calves, slowly moving his way upwards.] She had always assumed that he’d show that same uncertainty in the bedroom that he showed outside of it, when it came to love. She never doubted that he would be a passionate lover; his emotions were always easily roused; but she had expected to need to guide him in how to direct them.

Well, she had gotten the passionate part in Harry pegged properly, at any rate. She knew what people said about teenage boys and how looking at floorwax could make them aroused, but she had never realized it was *true*. Harry had proven her wrong. [Hermione tried to reach her thigh to unfasten the other stocking, but Draco slapped her hand away, looking up at her with eyes glowing with pleasure, excitement, and amusement, saying that he was going to send her to heaven, show her how good he could make her feel all by himself, and she wasn’t allowed to interfere.] When aroused, passion and heat radiated from every pore of Harry’s body, making him look nearly as frightening as he was desirable. Seeing that look of lust and desire in Harry’s eyes when he looked at her never failed to turn Hermione on.

[Hermione was soaking through her knickers and he’d only gotten as far as her knees! Her knees were all skin and bone, for crying out loud, how on *earth* had he been able to find an erogenous zone there?] The problem was, no matter how exciting and arousing it was to have Harry look at her like she was the only woman in the world, sometimes it simply didn’t arouse her enough. When Harry wanted her, he wanted her hard and fast and *right away*. There were days when she was hungry for him already when just a look from him was enough to get her juices flowing, and she would reach for him just as eagerly as he would reach for her when they were finally alone together. But then sometimes… well… [Draco reached her thigh at last, making her gasp with pleasure as the way he suckled the flesh of her thighs. Never again would she complain that she had inherited her mother’s thighs. That little bit of extra flesh that Draco devoured so eagerly had never felt so good] sometimes Harry wanting her wasn’t reason enough for her to get turned on.

He didn’t give much warning before he would pounce, and it never occurred to him to stop and ask her if she was in the mood as well. His hands were quick and deft and very eager when they were stripping off his clothing, but he rarely took those extra few seconds to stroke and prepare her and make sure she was sufficiently wet for comfort’s sake if nothing else before sliding himself inside her. [Draco’s head was all the way under her skirt now, placing the gentlest of kisses on the drenched center of her panties, tracing his tongue over the lines of her body through the cotton cloth. His hands slipped to her other leg, returning the attentions that he had paid to the first one, but his mouth stayed put, caressing and tasting and gently worshipping her through the cloth.]

When it was good with Harry, it was amazingly good. There were times when he brought her to a high that brought her literally to tears with the pleasure of it. But those times were more the exception than the rule. Her own pleasure in the act occurred by chance, when she found herself particularly in the mood at the same time as Harry, or when something about the place they were in, or the things that Harry did, or the way that she felt that day triggered something inside her. The thought of anyone taking the time and the trouble to see to her pleasure before their own and to find out what aroused and fulfilled her was almost shocking in its intimacy. If her newest lover had torn her clothes off and started pounding into her five minutes after walking into the door she would have enjoyed it, unquestionably, but nakedness and sexual union couldn’t have given her the sense of exposure and intimacy that she felt when Draco slowly and thoroughly cherished her with his mouth and his hands.

She screamed as she came, her orgasm leaking straight through her panties and into his waiting mouth. She was still shuddering from the aftershocks when he rose to his feet to guide her gently onto her stomach on the bed, allowing him to unfasten all the fastenings of her costume and gently ease it from her sweating flesh. He murmured an endless litany of praise as he removed the rest of her clothing, telling her over and over again how beautiful she was, and how incredible he was going to make her feel. When she was finally naked and even more needy for him than she had been before her climax, her senses heightened and her whole body trembling with arousal from his sensuous touch and devastating voice, he slipped his shirt off, looking forward to the sensation of skin on skin, as he lowered his body on top of hers to adore her some more.

Hermione, taking a cue, no doubt, from all the other Halloween ghosts, took it upon herself to keep up an endless cycle of moans, gasps, groans, and screams so piercing that shnderndered no one called the police to say that someone was being murdered, or at the very least, came round to complain. Her passionate sounds continued, unabated, as he proved just how completely he intended to honor his promise to worship every inch of her, and bring her back to life. She hadn’t known it was possible to climax so many times in a row, not to mention climaxing so frequently while her lover was still fully dressed from the waist down. It wasn’t until after her third orgasm that she was even able to convince him to allow her to play with his body, promising him fervently and repeatedly that it brought her enormous pleasure to lick and stroke and savor as much of his body as he would permit for as long as he would allow. Inevitably, before long he’d grow impatient to touch her again and her playtime would be interrupted, but the give and take of the passion they shared was every bit as arousing to her as the wholly unexpected and very much appreciated foreplay.

When he finally gave into his need for her and stripped off the last of his clothes to join with her, it felt more right than anything ever had for either of them and they just held themselves in place for a long moment, not wanting to move in the hopes that they could freeze time precisely where it was, so they could live in this moment forever. Alas, even the most perfect of moments must end, to be followed, as in this case, by even more exquisite sensations as they drove each other higher and higher into bliss until they exploded so hard, they both saw stars behind eyes clenched tightly shut in ecstasy. A fuzzy thought ran through Draco’s head, reminding him that he had planned to tell Hermione something when they got home from the ball, but with the post-orgasmic euphoria drugging his thoughts, he couldn’t quite remember what he had planned to say. Shrugging it off, he wrapped himself around her and snuggled closer to her as she lay, already asleep, cuddling in his arms.

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