Ghost Rider

Chapter 9...

The hotel was gorgeous. The walls were covered in simple, geometric, color coordinated wallpaper with extremely elegant and decorative finishing along the edges. A large golden chandelier hung from the ceiling, its candlelight bulbs burning bright in the late, British evening. Just seeing this made Hermione excited to see the rooms. The lobby was empty save for a female, clothed in a pin stripped suit, standing at the front desk. Her blonde hair blocked her face as she was looking down at something on her desk. Hermione and Draco walked toward her, their bags in their hands. She looked up at the sound of them, her blue eyes glancing over them. She smiled tiredly, righting herself in her seat.

    "Good evening, how may I help you?" her voice was sweet like liquid candy.

    Draco gave her a smile too, but it was the type that automatically appeared on a person's face in situations like these, "Yes, rooms for Malfoy."

    The woman quickly typed on her computer, her eyes scanning and then looking back at Draco, glancing at Hermione next to him for a second, "Date of birth to verify."

    Draco sighed, "June 5, 1980."

    The woman grabbed something from the desk and handed it to him, a candy smile on her face, "Penthouse 2, Mr. Malfoy."

    Draco gave her a cheeky smile, completely faux, and took the key card from her, leading his girlfriend to the elevator. Hermione glared at the woman as she walked away, making sure to stand behind her boyfriend so the woman couldn't stare at his perfectly formed arse. Hermione couldn't help, though, looking at it as she thought of it and smirked. He does have a perfectly formed arse, "Would you stop staring at my arse and get in the elevator?" Draco asked as he stepped in, his grey eyes glancing behind him teasingly.

    Hermione blushed and walked in beside him, "I'm sorry, my love. I simply couldn't help myself," she flirted with him, stepping closer to him too.

    Draco glanced at her, his Adam's Apple bobbing in his throat at how close she was. His eyes though hardened into a flirtatious glance, he knew exactly what she was doing. He gave her a smirk as he pressed their floor button, "Hermione, don't think you are going to get the answer out of me as to why I am in a funk."

    Hermione pulled her body next to his, her chest brushing against his side teasingly, "I don't know what you're talking about and I hadn't realized you were in a... funk," this was when his American side started to show through.

    Draco chuckled. The doors opened then and Draco grabbed Hermione's hand, pulling her to his side fully. He leaned down and kissed her lips, giving her a light peck, before pushing them both out of the elevator and to the opposite wall. Hermione gasped as this all happened, Draco simply smirking down beside her. Their bags lay forgotten for the time being next to the elevator doors. His head dropped to her neck and he gave long, deep kisses to the lightly tanned column. Ever since she had called his name in the bar in San Antonio, he had felt this need for her in ways he had never felt before. He needed her and wanted to protect her from himself, the Shadow, and the Devil. She was his everything. She was his stars and he didn't want the night to be filled with completely darkness.

    Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck, her mind flashing to the times they sneaked out of their dorms to be together in Hogwarts and all the dirty notes they sent each other beneath their friend's nose during their seventh year. Him being here, against her, made her feel like the past couple years, and couple boyfriends, had never happened. She wished it never happened, especially a certain boyfriend by the name of Max Birchwell. She never told Draco, and probably wouldn't, in fear of what Draco would do to Max, but Max had abused her in their relationship. After he found out about her and Draco's little make out session after the race on his car, Max began to treat her like some common dog. He hit her when she came back late from picking up food for both of them, and he knew this, but had this crazy idea that she was giving herself away to other man. Besides hitting her, he sexually abused her, made her his toy, and raped her on several occasions. She, finally, had enough and told Ginny Weasley who pulled her along to the Auror's office and Max was sentenced to twenty years in wizarding prison. She preferred him there, rotting in his jail cell, then have Draco beat him up.

Normally, for someone who was abused so violently, she would have flinched at Draco's attentions to her body, but she didn't. She trusted Draco and those years of dating each other in seventh year had made her body, unconsciously, calm and normal around him. Draco's hand traveled up her sides slowly, but Hermione froze him, "Draco, we need to get to our room."

Draco stepped away reluctantly, a devilish smirk still on his face, "Don't want to give any midnight goers a show?"

Hermione smirked, stalking toward him. Her hand fell to his pants covered groin, her fingers outlining the bulge appearing in them, "I wouldn't mind, later on in our relationship, but I think right now, we need this."

Draco growled, his breathing getting caught in his throat each time Hermione's fingers stroked his growing erection, "Off to the room then," and Hermione sprinted off down the hallway, leaving a very aroused Ghost Rider behind her.

    Their bags fell to the floor of front hallway of their penthouse hotel room, left there for the rest of the evening. Their owners kissed each other roughly against the door of the room. Draco pinned Hermione to the wood, his hands cuffing her wrists to it. Hermione's legs were wrapped around Draco's waist. Their eyes were heavy from sleep and arousal, and both knew that they wouldn't be waking up in the morning tomorrow, but neither cared. All they wanted was the feeling of each other once again, to ensnare that beast they had felt so many years ago against his car after the race.