From Wiltshire, With Love

Chapter 54

Note: There is a trigger warning associated with this chapter, see chapter end notes for details.

Draco dipped his quill in the inkwell, recalling from memory the layout of Yaxley's mansion, and drew broad strokes on the parchment before him. Every so often he'd make a mistake and remove the offending ink with his wand. Hermione hadn't requested Yaxley, but he had quite a bit of clout in the Dark Lord's army, and therefore, a lot of responsibility. Interrogating him would probably help the Order more so than anyone else right now, aside from his Aunt.

Draco hoped it was Yaxley that knew what the purpose of Wembley Stadium was.

Warm lips pressed lightly on the back of his neck while he finished labelling the wards used on the windows of the ground floor. He grinned as small, delicate hands slid over his shoulders and down his chest, over the fabric of his T-shirt. He continued working in silence, Hermione's mouth lightly sucking on the skin of his throat, little nips up towards his ear causing tingles of pleasure to race down to his cock.

"Did you want these plans now?" Draco asked, sopping up some ink that pooled in the corner.

Hermione sucked his earlobe into her warm, inviting mouth and he hummed in pleasure. She captured his lobe gently with her teeth and released it to answer him. "Yes, Malfoy. They better get done tonight. So keep working."

By now his erection formed a tent in his trousers and he shifted in his seat to make himself more comfortable. Her hands wrapped around his torso from behind the chair, slid lower and rubbed his thighs. Not touching him there, but getting close, teasing him.

"I've got too many distractions at the moment," he chastised her.

Her hands lifted the hem of his T-shirt and rubbed the muscles of his stomach, dipping just slightly below the waistline of his pajama trousers. At the rate Hermione was going, he'd have to finish the plans tomorrow morning.

"Sounds like a poor excuse to me," Hermione scolded him, her lips brushing against the shell of his ear. "I would expect more from one of You-Know-Who's finest Death Eaters."

Draco continued drawing on the parchment when her fingers lightly stroked him over his pajamas and he bucked, making an angry 'V' where a straight line should have been. He waved his wand and removed the mistake.

"Are you calling my competency into question-aaaaahhhhhh," he groaned as she bit his skin at the juncture between his shoulder and neck.

Her voice was low and sultry as she replied into his ear. "You don't seem to be performing very well."

Enjoying their game, he bent forward over the parchment, putting space between them, and returned to labelling the wards he had drawn. "You should know by now not to question my performance."

Hermione's hands dipped below his waistline, rubbing the skin of his thighs under his trousers. Draco huffed an exhale as her fingers grazed his length and scrotum.

"Your performance has declined," she reprimanded him from next to his ear. "I don't think you'll finish tonight." At the word 'tonight', she cupped him and gave his balls a light squeeze, his pelvis jerked upward.

"Fuuuuuuuck," he groaned.

Her other hand wrapped around his length and she fisted him, sliding the skin up and down over his length. Draco gave up all pretense, dropped the quill and leaned his head back onto her shoulder. Immediately she latched onto his jaw with her lips, sucking on his bone, making her way down the lines of his neck.

"Giving up?" she muttered into his throat.

He smiled and closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of her hands fondling his balls and fisting his length, and her hot, wet mouth on his neck. He thrust forward reflexively as she stroked him.