BEHIND CLOSED DOORS | D.M

037 | honeymoon avenue

"Are you planning on hiding in the bathroom for the whole fucking night?"

Kallista sighs loudly at Draco's muffled inquiry. She doesn't answer, and when he knocks again on the door, she stifles a frustrated groan.

"Give me a sec, Malfoy."

The door opens, and Kallista peers up at him from where she is kneeled onto the floor next to her suitcase.

"Technically," he starts with a wry smirk, "you're a Malfoy too, now."

Her lips part at the remark, but not because she realises he has given her his last name. Whilst her gaze saunters down his handsome face, it halts for a few heartbeats on his chest where Draco has opened the first few buttons of his shirt, his pale skin showing. His unknotted bow tie hangs loosely around the collar, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

"Fucking hell, Kallista," he drawls in a raspy voice. "Don't look at me like that."

"Like what?" Feigning innocence is her favourite thing to do to rile him up. Enjoying the sight of his jaw tightening and witnessing the silver colour of his eyes flash to ashen, she knows he isn't amused by her fluttering lashes and evident lascivious gaze.

"That, right there," he specifies with a sweep of his hand towards her face as she lingers her stare on the prominent veins adorning his forearm. "Look at me like that again and I'll have to fuck you right here and right there."

Though her pulse starts to quicken, her rosé lips turn upwards into a seductive smile. Slightly tilting her head sideways, she says, "what are you waiting for?"

A mixture of both a groan and a moan try to escape the back of his throat. Draco runs a hand over his face, concealing the cerise blush coating his cheekbones before tousling his hair.

Kallista will never get used to the sight of the golden ring on his left hand. He is hers—utterly, unequivocally hers.

"Do not," he starts with a breath, "provoke me, witch."

"Or what?"

Draco doesn't answer. Letting his tongue wet his lips for a brief second, he darts his gaze away from Kallista's amused eyes, landing his stare upon her suitcase.

"Seriously, though," he chuckles. "What are you doing on the floor?"

Kallista huffs. "I was trying to find a pyjama set to wear and look what's in there!" She opens the luggage, and Draco stills. She swears his breaths start to stagger faintly whilst he rubs his tense jaw with a veiny hand. She takes multiple sets of lingerie out of the bag, lifting them up so he can have a closer look at the sheer pieces of clothing. "Look what Kaïa packed for me."

He blinks. Tries to breathe. "I—Thank you, Kaïa," he mumbles, his brows lifting in a rapid motion.

"Make up your damn mind, Malfoy," Kallista sneers, standing up. "One second you don't want to fuck me and the next one your eyes are molten grey as you're probably imagining me bent over the bed, wearing that red set of—"

A groan interrupts her whilst he shakes his head in exasperation. "Us being married is going to be harder than I thought," he grumbles, turning around. "Hurry up, Malfoy, there's something you might want to see before it's too late."

Kallista ignores the flutter inside her stomach as he calls her by his last name, strolling behind him.

She lets the coolness of the tiles caress her feet as she passes the large bed adorned by petals of roses, candles lit on the nightstands, a few bottles of the most expensive and tastiest champagne placed atop a dresser. So fucking cliché, though the sight of it all had made Draco laugh loudly.