Desire

Desire

It was finally the day that he had been waiting for his entire life. It was the day that most people looked forward to, but he more than others. It was the day that he could finally put his past behind him and move forward to a future with the woman that he had been in love with for years.

“I do,” he said firmly, looking into the warm hazelnut eyes of his love.

“I pronounce you Draco and Hermione Malfoy.”

He moved forward and captured the lips of the woman in front of him; the kiss seeming much more intimate than ones before because they had now pledged their lives and love to each other. Draco knew that this was only a kiss, and whenever they managed to escape their reception and portkey off onto their honeymoon, their rekindling in the bedroom would be a hundred times better.

Draco released her lips and she smiled a bright smile at him that he knew was only rarely bestowed upon her acquaintances. The war had changed her, made her less optimistic and girlish than she had been in her childhood, but he had a way of making her smile, and he knew that that was the only reason that those friends of hers would ever put up with him.

Though she was not the most attractive woman in England, Hermione Granger—Hermione Malfoy, now—was a gorgeous 24 year-old woman with soft curls that still frizzed a bit, a nice body that she worked hard to keep in shape, and the most loving eyes that a woman could ever have. Looking into those eyes, with all their warmth and smiling sunshine inside, made Draco’s heart of ice melt, and he had loved her ever since.

Draco Malfoy had not changed much since he was a kid, though older and more roughened, he was still leanly built and muscular. His flaxen hair still dropped past his ears and his nose was still a bit too sharp. But Hermione loved him the way he was and that was all that mattered to him.

Walking back down the aisle, arm-in-arm, Draco felt like the luckiest man alive. And he should be, he had just married the woman of his dreams.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

The reception whizzed past much faster than Draco had been anticipating, and before he knew it, he was kicking the door of the Honeymoon Suite open with his new wife cradled in his arms.

She laughed and he smiled. He had been practicing that entrance for weeks and was happy that he had not only gotten a rare smile out of her, but an even more atypical laugh. He was so happy that he had finally married this woman. He had been in love with her since they started working together after the war and he had tried hard to win her to his side. With his wit and charm he had finally made her surrender a smile, and he knew he had won her trust. It took him three more years to win her love and heart. Another year to make the commitment that they had made today.

When he proposed a year and a half after they had fallen into bed together after a heated argument about whether Ron was a poof or not, Hermione had decided that they shouldn’t have sex until the wedding, to make their first time together as a married couple even more exceptional.

And exceptional it was going to be. As soon as Draco let Hermione’s feet touch the floor, she pounced. Her legs were wrapped around his waist and all he could do from falling over was to lean against the wall with her trapped between his muscular frame and the taupe wall. He had wished that their first time as a married couple would be in a bed, but it seemed as though they weren’t going to make it that far.

Their lips crashed together almost vehemently, and Draco knew that she had been holding in all of this passion for the last seven months. They had been good to their word and not shagged since the day that Hermione said that she would marry him, and as such they were both properly frustrated.

Draco’s shirt was the first piece of clothing to fall to the floor, but certainly not the last. Draco’s trousers and cummerbund fell atop the crisp white shirt and Hermione’s dress was hiked up past her hips.

Hermione’s torn silk knickers were added to the pile at their feet.

Hitching Hermione up against the wall, Draco used one free hand to grab hold of his shaft to pump it a few times, spreading his precum over the length. When he was ready, he ran two fingers through his new wife’s folds to make sure she was properly prepared for the shagging of a lifetime.

And ready she was, she was wet, very wet, and was panting his name like a mantra. Her hands grabbed his shoulders as she moaned it again and again. Finally, he pulled his fingers away, licking them absently and putting the saliva-slickened hand on her hip.

“I love you,” he said with a smile, and as soon as her mouth quirked with that rare smile, he plunged.

Merlin, but she was tight. Seven months of no sex had not only left them frustrated and horny beyond belief, but was also going to make the sex a hundred times better because of this.

Draco thrust, hard. One hand cupped Hermione’s ass while the other cupped her cheek. He smiled and brushed his lips against hers and his pace and breath quickened. Hermione was now moaning unintelligible words as well until he hit a spot that made her scream out in orgasm, her sheath convulsing around his cock. He thrust a few more times but couldn’t hold out. He sunk deep into her, trapped her tightly against the wall, and poured his cum into her, hoping with a smile that the next part of their life would be a result.

Draco finally opened his eyes, not realizing that they had been closed, and sunk to the floor with Hermione still seated most intimately on him.

“I love you so much, Hermione,” he panted. “I always have and I always will.”

“Oh Merlin, Draco. I—”

There was a loud banging on the door.

“What?” Draco shouted, annoyed that someone would ruin this for him.

“How many times have I told you, Malfoy? The mirror is not supposed to be used from 4-7pm!”

Draco groaned and stood. The image in the mirror faded fast as he turned to the door. He quickly cleaned and straightened himself out before opening the door to find the face of Hermione standing in front of him. “And why is that, Granger?”

“What do you see in it anyway?” she said, obviously ignoring his question. “Do you see the many ways in which to kill me, or Harry, or Ron? Do you see me being decapitated, the Death Eaters rising to take vengeance and kill us all? Really, Draco, that’s quite immat—”

What took over him, he would never know. Maybe it was his mind replaying the images the Mirror of Erised had shown. Maybe it was because he had finally snapped and just wanted to shut her up and couldn’t think of any other way to do that besides otherwise occupying her mouth, but he had to do it, more than anything he had ever had to do in his entire life.

Her lips were stiff at first. They didn’t move, but neither did she. She didn’t push him away and as he increased his fervour, she finally relented and kissed him placidly back. When he had enough sense to pull away, he did so quickly. He looked into her confused eyes thoughtfully for a moment and breathed: “What do you desire most, Hermione?” Then he walked away, leaving the brunette standing in the hallway, tenderly touching her fingertips to her lips, and smiling that rare smile that she had never, ever bestowed on anyone like Draco Malfoy.

/story

A/N: I know that most of you are waiting for an update on Ultimatum, it will be soon, hopefully.

Please tell me what you think of this story. Thanks.

~Temptress