To a Better End

Chapter 13

December 25th 1898

"Granger, I am a tall man, but even this is a stretch for me. It's not very comfortable."

"I believe it was you that made the offer of using our kitchen counters," she replied.

Hermione was sitting on the edge of their very small kitchen counter with her skirt lifted up, raising her eyebrow at Malfoy. He stood between her legs, wearing only an undershirt, while he shook his head at her.

"You'll simply have to pick a different Christmas present," he mocked.

Since the day Malfoy decorated their home, they'd dived head first into what one might call "intimate relations." Yes, Hermione was having fun. No, she was not going to label what they were doing. There were far too many other pressing matters to focus on, so they never discussed it. Refusing to address the erumpent in the room, they left it alone, refusing to even sleep in the bed. It was just sex, and Hermione was determined to keep it that way, which meant not making it personal. And beds were personal.

"Well, you got my hopes up, Malfoy. Had my mind set on it."

Hermione was just about to get down off the counter when she heard Malfoy mutter "bloody wench," before grabbing her thighs to hold her still. His darkened eyes locked onto hers. She gave him a brief smile before he rammed into her, causing her hands to grab onto his shoulders.

Hermione let out a yelp that encouraged a smile from Malfoy, as though he had just walked into a sweet shop. His grip on her upper thighs was relentless as he picked her up off the counter and carried her off, his length still sheathed inside of her. He pressed her back against a wall adjacent to the kitchen and thrusted into her. He lowered his head to her neck and gave her a stream of kisses.

Throwing her head back from the contact, she let out a series of incoherent noises, gripping onto his shoulders while her legs remained locked around his waist.

"Such a good girl for me."

"Yes," she cried, keening at the praise.

With his fingers gripping her sides, he growled against her cheek, "Fuck,"

"I'll be good for you," she vowed, knowing her promises would encourage him to fuck her harder.

Malfoy dragged his teeth on her earlobe, picking up his pace.

"Just for me." His low whisper sent a shiver that crawled through her body.

She couldn't trust her own voice. Not now. Instead, she laced her fingers through his ridiculous blonde hair and angled his face to meet hers. She looked into his hungry eyes and pulled him for a rough kiss. His tongue met with hers. His hands tightened on her body. Everything about him felt so good.

"Malfoy!"

"No." His voice was threatening as he thrust into her harder. "Use my fucking name, Hermione."

"Draco! Draco, please. I'm so close," she cried.

"You're not going to come until I say so," he said through gritted teeth, a devious smile playing on the corners of his mouth.

"What?!" Was he truly trying to control her climax? That was new.

"You heard me. This," he reached between their bodies, pressing his thumb against her swollen clit. "This is mine. And since it belongs to me, I say when you get to come."

At his words, she shivered. He continued to sink himself further into her with an unforgiving force, his thumb remaining between them, pressing and circling her. It was too much, she couldn't hold onto it. She was going to come and disappoint him for not obeying.