She could only frown at him, words failing her as his hands travelled up either thigh, mouth moving towards her once again as he latched back onto the skin of her neck.

“You taste- so good, ” he breathed. All over her. “I need more.” His tongue dipped lower. “I need more of you, Granger…”

His hands left her bare thighs and began unbuttoning her shirt clumsily.

He buried his mouth in between her breasts, tongue wetting the fabric of her bra.

“Malfoy…” she breathed, a name she’d said too often in the past months, “Why are we…”

He licked up to her shoulder. “I don’t know.” And then so fast Hermione momentarily lost her breath, Draco fell to his knees.

“Open your legs.”

“Malfoy-”

“Shut up, ” he growled, making sure her skirt was pushed up as high as it would go. His voice was coarse, lost somewhere in something she knew they both shouldn’t be involved in. “Fuck, Granger…” he murmured, kissing her thighs, slowly, pushing his head between them. “Fuck…”

Hermione’s head fell back.

“Don’t close your eyes, ” he mumbled.

“I’m not-”

“Watch me.”

“I…don’t…”

She hadn’t realised that she was relenting to Draco’s movements, moving her thighs apart to accommodate him, one of his hands gripping onto her leg so hard it was hurting her.

The sensation of the wet heat of his mouth against her knickers sent such a severe shudder through her body she almost fell backwards. His fingers hooked around the edge of them, pulling them down. She lifted slightly to make it easier.

To make it easier. Oh god.

“Good girl, Granger, ” he rasped.

“Fuck…you…”

He pushed her legs wider, one hooked over his shoulder and-

She couldn’t believe it. Couldn’t accept it. And she would go with it. She would go with it, Draco Malfoy’s tongue melting into her, until she woke up. Woke up.

It didn’t stop. He didn’t stop. His mouth working on her, her body reacting in shameful ways, moving with him, pushing into him. Feeling every wet movement of his tongue with absolute despair. A hand grabbed his head, her body falling back, arching against the cool surface of the desk.

“Back up, Granger, ” breathed Draco, hot against her.

She murmured something. A sound.

“Sit up, ” he growled, “Look at me.”

She couldn’t believe she obeyed him. She couldn’t believe she was there, struggling to pull herself up, keep her eyes open and focussed on Draco’s head as he found a rhythm so unbearably wonderful she felt that not even if someone walked in would she want him to stop.

Not even…

His tongue began working faster. All the blood in her body seeming to rush to those places he touched, tasted, sucked. She was shaking fiercely, trembling so hard Draco had to grip her hips to stop her from bucking into him.

Her lip was caught between her teeth, and she couldn’t know at that moment just how hard she was biting it, moaning with each flick of his tongue, each murmur against her heated flesh.

Hermione could feel something, feel herself nearing an indescribable sensation that no other person had ever given her. Made her feel. Fierce and desperate and so unbelievably lost in the motions of his mouth. So almost there.

“Ma-Malfoy…”

“Hermione…”

“Fuck…fuck…”

And she couldn’t sit up any longer, a burst of ecstasy rippling through her body as she cried out, collapsed onto her back, arching, twisting, head rubbing against the desk. And his name, choked in her throat. Draco.

Draco.

держите меня семеро…