The Fallout by EveryThursday (reposted)

Thirty-Eight

Day: 1521; Hour: 1

Hermione had woken up to darkness, Draco's hand on her breast and his mouth on her throat. Her back was sore enough to know she had slept for at least an hour or two on the unforgiving floor, and the storm outside had calmed. The thunder was no longer rumbling constantly, the wind wasn't threatening demolition, and the rain was softer above them. She let Draco explore – quite thoroughly, taking in the realization that he seems to know her body in the dark just as well as she knows his.

She had stretched her body against the wood and out for him, feeling strange. Blind, drowsy, the tinkling of rain, and with the softness of his touches, it almost felt dreamlike. She thought only simple things: the brush of his hair, the texture of his hands, the warmth of his mouth, the lines of the floorboards, the cushion of darkness, the calm. It didn't take long for him to fully wake her up, but the strange calmness lingered. She wonders if she can call it contentment. There's no rush to escape within him, she's just already there. Could she name it that?

He's taking his time about everything again. Probably because she didn't give him what he wanted earlier, and now he's determined to hear her desperate. To drive her to the point where she's thrashing around and muttering things like Draco, Draco, please on repeat, and blushing about it later. She had tried to sit up, to maybe do those things to him, but she had been unsure if she could and his hand had been too insistent when he pressed her back down again.

His wand is tracing up her stomach. She knows because of the thrum of magic she can feel against her skin. His magic, echoing into the wand, unused but strong against its confines. She knows Draco in a lot of ways, but to have his magic against her, and coursing from inside of him to her is something powerfully intimate. She hadn't ever thought about it, or thought it could be, but it leaves her a little raw, despite that he hasn't cast anything and she hardly feels it. It's like his heartbeat and his blood – it's part of his life force, the very essence of him.

He settles it on her breast, and when it rolls, he moves to balance it. "Don't let it fall," he says, answering part of her confusion, and his hands track down her arms.

He wraps his hands around hers, holding them within his own at her sides as he kisses his way up her thigh. She gives an incredulous look in his direction, though it doesn't matter, and holds his fingers in her palms. He pulls away for several seconds, and she braces herself, but he only moves to her other thigh. She lets out a heavy breath and his lips curl before he nips her skin. She can feel his breath against her, and then he kisses the bottom of her stomach. When she lets out a frustrated groan, he laughs.

"Sinister, evil, lit--" She doesn't groan out of frustration this time, and she has to actively think to keep herself from grinding against his tongue.

She keeps herself in check for another minute, until he buries his face against her and thrusts his tongue. Her hips give a little jerk on their own accord, her moan cut short by the roll of his wand. She stills, locking herself in place, and the wand balances out again. She isn't about to lose whatever game he's playing, and playing well. She squeezes his fingers, and his thumbs start rubbing across her wrists. There is the trembling of her legs, the quickness of her breath, her blood rushing, and the pounding of her heart, but the rest of her is frozen.

The damn wand threatens escape with just her breathing, and it takes about as much as she has to not give in completely. She feels amazing, besides the fact that too much of her attention is focused on not letting the wand fall instead of what Draco's very talented mouth is doing to her. She's getting closer, a series of gasps and moans escaping her, and her eyes squeezed shut in concentration. She sincerely hopes that he doesn't expect her to keep it on her when she explodes, because she can feel the pressure mounting higher and higher, and she's about to lose control.