𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐄𝐃 | ᴀ ᴅʀᴀᴍɪᴏɴᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ

Chapter 13

THE RIDE TO MY APARTMENT is an exercise in stunt driving. Trying desperately to keep my mouth on Hermione and not get us killed. She sits on my lap straddling my waist, kissing my neck, tonguing my ear—driving me out of my frigging mind. I've got one hand on the steering wheel and the other wedged between us, gliding over her stomach, her neck, and those perfect breasts that tease me through her half-open shirt.

Do not try this at home, kids.

Her skirt bunches high on her thighs as she grinds herself on my straining cock. She's so damn hot against me, I have to use every ounce of will not to let my eyes roll back into my head. I kiss her hard and watch the road over her shoulder. She slides up and down, jerking me off slowly with the pressure. Fucking Christ, dry humping never felt so good.

Control? Restraint? They went bye-bye a long time ago.

Finally, I pull into the parking garage of my building. I grab the first spot I see and drag us out of the car. My hands on her ass, her legs locked around my waist, I carry Hermione to the elevator, our lips and tongues dancing furiously.

I didn't lock my car. I don't think I even closed the door.

Fuck it.

They can steal it. I have more important matters at hand.

I stumble into the elevator and push the button for the top floor before slamming Hermione back against the wall and thrusting against her like I've been dying to do. She moans long and deep into my mouth. It's like that scene out of Fatal Attraction, without the creepiness.

Making it to my door, I grope for the lock with one hand still holding Hermione against me. She nibbles on my ear and whispers, "Hurry, Draco."

I would have kicked the fucking thing open at this point if the key wasn't already turning. We fall into my apartment, and I kick the door shut with my foot. I peel her legs off me, and her feet slide to the floor, creating a delicious friction along the way. I need my hands free.

With our mouths still joined, I start unbuttoning the rest of her blouse. Hermione is not so skilled—or she's just impatient. She digs her fingers into the front of my shirt and pulls. Buttons scatter on the floor.

She just ripped my shirt open.

How hot is that?

I get to the clasp on her bra and pop it open. I'm an expert at those things. Whoever invented the front-clasp bra? God bless you.

Hermione pulls her lips away and smooths her palms over my chest and down my abs. Her eyes are filled with wonder as they follow her hands' path. I watch as my own fingers skim across her collarbone, down the center of her flawless breasts, and over that valley I love before coming to rest at her waist.

"God, Draco. You're so..."

"Beautiful." I finish for her.

I pull her up against me again, wrapping my arms around her and lifting her feet off the floor as I back up toward the couch. Did I think dancing with her was heaven? No. Her bare chest against mine—that is what heaven feels like. Fucking paradise.

I kiss down her jaw and suck at the tender flesh of her neck. I love Hermione's neck—and by the sounds vibrating in her throat, she loves what I'm doing. I sit back on the couch, taking her with me with her torso resting against mine, her closed legs between my spread knees. She pulls my lips back to hers for one more kiss before standing up and backing away.

We're both out of breath and staring, practically attacking each other with our eyes. She bites her lip, and her hands disappear behind her back. I hear the hiss of a zipper, and then her skirt is slowly sliding to the floor. It's the sexiest goddamn thing I have ever seen.