Ten out of Ten by Morriganmercy

Day 11

- NOT MY STORY! All credit goes to @morriganmercy on a03!

After lunch on the eleventh day, Hermione walked out of her bathroom, still wet from a shower, to find Malfoy standing in her room.

"Malfoy!" she shouted, clutching the flaps of her dressing gown tighter around her.

"Hermione," he replied. He sounded completely unbothered as he stood at her bureau, rummaging through the open drawers.

"What if I had come out naked?" she demanded.

He chuckled and glanced over at her for the first time. "If only. I may have led a privileged life, but I've never been a lucky person."

Her lips pursed. "What are you doing in here? What about trust?"

"What about it?" he asked, holding up a pair of lacy black knickers. "Did you really trust I wouldn't inspect this room after doing all the others?"

In truth, she hadn't really thought about it. "I don't know," she said, striding across the room and snatching her underthings from out of his hand. "It just seems like common courtesy."

"Maybe for other people," he said, smiling down at her. "But we're married. I've already told you I'm learning about Muggles... and my wife."

He gestured to an assortment of items he'd placed on her bed, and Hermione's heart stalled in her chest as she spotted her vibrator among them.

"So many fascinating solutions that Muggles have developed for so many different problems."

Hermione stared at her bedspread, praying that he might be referring to the pencil sharpener or the eyelash curler, but with the smirk spreading across his face, she had no real hope. Unable to stand it any longer, she reached forward and swiped the purple toy off the bed, stomping over and throwing it unceremoniously into the bedside table drawer it had come out of.

"I was particularly curious about that one," he said. "A power switch but no plug?"

"It has a battery," she said, trying to keep her voice even. "It's a portable form of electricity."

"How interesting. And what might one use that device for, I wonder?"

"It's a massager."

"I see," Malfoy said, nodding slowly. "Bit of a suspicious shape though, isn't it?"

Hermione growled in frustration, fists clenching at her sides. "Why are you asking if you already know what it is? Do you enjoy torturing me?"

He chuckled. "Well, you know I do," he said, coming to stand in front of her. "And I don't know what it is, but if it is what I think it is, then this is very helpful information to have."

"And why is that?" she said, staring defiantly up at him. Her cheeks were burning, but she refused to be shamed for tending to her own needs.

He stepped into her, his hands trailing lightly up the sides of her thighs, and his skin scorched her even with the lingering heat of her shower. "Because clearly the problem was with your other partners," he said in a low voice, ducking his head to speak near her ear. She braced her hands against his chest as his fingers teased low over her back. "Now I know that you know what you like... I just need to convince you to tell me." She sucked in a shaky breath as his palms smoothed down over the curves of her arse. "Or show me," he added, and she could feel the smirk against her cheek. "Whatever you prefer."

Heat was flooding through her as his hands shamelessly explored her through the delicate fabric. She gripped his shirt in her fists as his fingers traced the crease where her arse cheeks met her thighs.