Softness

Disclaimer #2: I DO NOT own Harry Potter, and I DO NOT make any profit from writing this.

Author's Note:
This is a random one-shot, my first submission to this site. Depending on review/feedback I may continue this plot, or may leave it as is. I plan to have further submissions coming quickly, and not all may pertain to Harry Potter. Please, please let me know what you think of my style, and if you would like to see more.


******

She glanced up at me as my hands slid down her sides, over her grey sweater, to rest of the soft swell of her hips. Her eyes were a beautiful chocolate brown, deep and liquid, and shaded by the most gorgeous set of eyelashes I had ever seen. Why had I not seen this before? Why had I been ignorant, blind, and cast such divine beauty away? Why had I ever insulted her, teased her, mocked her...

Why did I deserve this now?

She ran her hands up my arms, across my shoulders, up my neck to cup the sides of my face, and pulled me forwards, tilting her face up, pressing her entire body upwards, her lips parting with a soft sigh of breath just before they finally met my own. She was so soft, so smooth...

My heart stopped for a moment, as it did with every kiss, every touch of her lips to mine. She was a goddess in the flesh, in more ways than one, and I did not deserve this.

Her tongue, hesitant, nervous seeming, tickled against my lips, and I opened my mouth wider to allow her access. Her silken touch made me weak in so many ways, broke through my tough-guy barriers, made me need her, in so many more ways than just purely physical. Yes, I needed her for that, I needed to feel her heat, hear her moans as I brought her ecstasy, but at the same time, there was so much more to it, such a deeper connection that I could not possibly fathom. It was something I had never thought I would experience, something I believed did not exist.

Her arms wrapped around my neck as she pressed against me fully. The press of her breasts against my chest was heaven. The taste of her lips—faintly of strawberry—was delicious. The smell of her hair, of her skin, of her was purely intoxicating. I slipped my arms around her waist, pulling her tightly to me, my arms resting in the dip of her back, just above the rise of her bottom.

She leaned her head back just enough to break the kiss, and smiled up at me, one of her hands brushing a blond lock of hair from my eyes. “You are beautiful,” she said, causing me to smile, if a little crookedly.

“Guys aren't beautiful.”

“You are.”

“Women are beautiful. Men are...” I trailed off. “Ruggedly handsome” just didn't have the right ring to it, not in this scenario.

“I don't care what other men are,” she insisted. “You are beautiful. You are mine.”

“Yours,” I repeated, and kissed her again, harder this time, my tongue driving into her mouth, curling around hers. She gasped slightly into me, and I knew I needed her. Now.

“We need to get to someplace more personal,” she whispered as I leaned back this time, my breath coming a little harder than before.

“Couldn't have said it any better myself,” I whispered back, and she pushed me back, then turned, heading out of the library. I took a deep breath to settle myself as I watched her walk away, the fall of her curly hair down over her shoulders, the taper of her waist, the subtle flare of her hips, the shape of her legs under her skirt... Hermione Granger was beyond any doubt, the most beautiful girl in the school of Hogwarts.

How was it that I, Draco Malfoy, had ended up with her? She hung out with Potter and Weasel. We all hated one another. Golden boy Potter and his retarded side-lackey Weasel... how had she ever got involved with the likes of them? Gods, how had I?

Looking back at it, I decided it had something to do with that silly tournament from last year. Hermione had been stressing about how best to help golden boy in the library, and I had happened to be close. “What do you want, Malfoy?” I could still hear her demanding tone ringing through the air as I had sat across from her. I had been stumped on some random Potions solution, and needed quiet to sit and think it through. I had left my usual lackeys behind.

“What do you think, Granger? I want to study. Like yourself. Believe it or not, I have to pass these ridiculous classes just the same as you.”

“Why not sit somewhere else?” she had demanded, looking skeptical.

And I still had to admit, I had no answer for that.

Somehow, out of that, we had wound up in the closet, with her on her knees, my hard cock in her warm, wet mouth... I would never, ever, for so long as I lived, forget that day. We hadn't spoken to one another for months afterward, but this year had sparked something new between us. Golden Boy Potter was being a sissy over something or another, and whining about everything and everyone. It had alienated Hermione, and she had come to me, randomly, looking for sympathy.

And surprising even myself, I had given it.

Taking another deep breath, I went after her.

She ducked into the prefects' bathroom ahead of me, and I wasted not a moment in following her in. The halls were deserted anyway. The students were all down at supper; me and Granger had eaten earlier. It was nice to be a Malfoy sometimes. The family name allowed certain luxuries that other students weren't.

She turned as soon as the door was closed behind me and pressed herself into my arms. I gathered her into my embrace willingly, my lips devouring hers, pressing her backwards until we stumbled into the counter. She hopped backwards, sitting on the edge, her legs parting so that I stood between them. I ran my hands up her thighs, feeling the smooth silk of her skin above her skockings, my fingertips hidden from view by the edge of her skirt. She released a sigh as one of my fingers found the edge of her knickers and traced them. I could feel her heat radiating out through the thin cotton, the slight dampness of her skin there growing... my thumb carefully brushed over her sensitive slit through the cloth, and she bit her lip as she stared into my eyes.

Then she was pulling at my shirt, untucking it. Her hands flew down the buttons and I shrugged out of the shirt, standing before her bare-chested. She ran her hands over my skin, and I shivered slightly at her touch, her hot fingertips tracing delicate patterns that I yearned for her to follow with her tongue... but not right now. Right now... it had been too long, we hadn't had time together in so long, and I needed her...

I pushed her skirt up higher, and pulled her knickers to the side, exposing the soft pink flesh underneath. She had just shaved, I could tell, her skin smooth and creamy, her lips swollen and damp. I carressed her for a moment, her silken folds swallowing my fingers as they slid up and down her slit, finding her clit, pressing against it, causing her to arch into my hand...

Then I was pulling my jeans down, just far enough that I could be free, and pulling her farther onto the edge of the counter, and pushing forwards... her silken heat met my cock, and I bit my cheek to keep in a groan as I pressed farther forwards and she yielded around me so that I sank into her searing liquid heat immediately, sheathed to the hilt in her tight, hot went channel.

She gasped and pressed against me with her hips, urging me to move, and I did, slowly at first, then striving with greater and harder strokes until I was slamming into her with each thrust, forcing a grunt from both of us. I felt her shudder in release, her inner walls rippling and spasming with her orgasm, a soft whimper escaping her as I continued to fuck her as hard as I could...

Then it was there, exploding through me, and I slammed forwards into her, grabbing her, pulling her to me, needing her, clinging to her tightly as I shook with the force of my own release.

As it passed, I sagged back, my knees weak, and slowly sank to the floor. She came down next to me, curling into my side, her face shining, her breath shallow but fast. She licked her lips, then with a certain deliberateness, turned to me, staring into my eyes, and said, “I love you, Draco.”

Oh shit.