Fest Fic: The Two Fathers, NC-17
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hp_bunintheovenTitle: The Two Fathers
Author/Artist:
Pairing(s): Hermione/Draco, Hermione/Bill
Prompt: # O12
Summary: After shagging Draco and Bill, Hermione discovers that she's pregnant, and she has no intentions of casting a paternity spell.
Word Count: 3,500
Rating: Explicit
Warnings/Contains: casual sex, dirty talk, light femdom, begging, crawling, rough sex
Notes: Thank you for reading <3
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
When Hermione discovered she was pregnant, she Firecalled Bill Weasley and Draco Malfoy. She had shagged them both recently. Her birth control spells had failed her.
“Will you come around my flat tonight? Say six o’clock?” she asked them.
“Sure, but I might be late,” Bill said. “I have little Victoire until five thirty.”
“Why?” Malfoy said, his eyes narrowed.
She smiled. “Please just try to make it.”
That night, Hermione served them tea and biscuits, and made sure they were both comfortable.
Malfoy glared openly at Bill. “What is he doing here?”
“Yes, I would like to know that as well,” Bill said.
“You are here because I’m pregnant.”
Bill dropped his teacup, shattering it. “Fuck,” he said, quickly cleaning up the mess.
“What did you just say to us?” Malfoy growled.
“I’m pregnant and both of you might be the father.”
*
Hermione had a secret. She liked to party, to get down. She liked wearing short skirts and high heels and dancing on a crowded floor until the sun came up.
She also liked taking men home. Loads of men. Too many. She was a slag, but she wasn’t ashamed. She worked too hard in her career, held too much power at the Ministry, to let shame get in the way of her desires.
Three weeks before she discovered she was pregnant, she had the best weekend of her life. On Friday night, she ventured to a speakeasy-themed bar called the Nightjar. It was crowded but she felt like a million Galleons in her tight black cocktail dress. She gazed about the smoky room, looking for an open seat, when her eyes landed on Bill Weasley.
There had always been something about Bill. He was dangerous but wholesome, friendly but serious, protective but distant. In the stark lighting of the bar, his scars shimmered as if they were made of moondust.
His gaze tracked her every move as she made her way across the room to him. “Hello,” she said brightly, eagerly. “Is this seat taken?”
“No,” he grunted, his gaze still on her, eating her up.
She sat down. “I need a drink.”
“Let me,” he said, and waved the bartender over.
A few minutes later, she had a cocktail in front of her, made up of something called moonshine and fruity liqueur.
“I didn’t expect you to find you here,” Bill said.
She sipped her drink. It was very, very good. “Why not?”
He shrugged. “Bars don’t seem your thing.”
“Did you expect me to be at home, reading tomes and petting my cat?”
His gaze bored into her. “Depends on the type of cat.”
She smirked at him. The silence was easy between them. The bar was smoky and shadowy but it was also very loud.
“How is divorce life treating you?” she asked.
Another shrug. “Good. Better. Being a single dad is tough sometimes.”
“I’m sure Molly helps you out.”
“She does. And Fleur’s a brilliant mum. A real gem. We just weren’t right for each other.”
“I used to dislike Fleur. A lot. I’m ashamed of it now. I think I was just jealous.”
“If you don’t mind me asking … why?”
“Why was I jealous? Oh, for loads of reasons. She was gorgeous; Ron could barely string two words together around her; she had you …”
It was difficult to tell in the lighting, but Hermione was sure Bill’s cheeks turned pink.
“I didn’t know you fancied me,” he said after a moment.
She laughed and sipped her drink. “Everyone fancied you, Bill.”
“No, they didn’t.”
“You were cool. Older. Powerful and intelligent.”
“I was also maimed.”
“The scars only make you more beautiful.”
He sucked in a breath.
Hermione was being bold, very bold, but she also felt great. Her cocktail was delicious and the music in the bar was hypnotic, sexy.
“Would you like to dance?” she asked.
He smiled and shook his head. “I’m not in the mood.”
“What are you in the mood for?”
“Well …” He dragged his gaze up and down her body, not being subtle.
“Let’s get out of here.”
They went back to his place, which turned out to be a small flat near Gringotts. It was old and stuffy but it had great windows. There were toys scattered everywhere. Little dolls and tiny wooden wands.
“Care for another drink?” he asked.
“Yes, please.”
Hermione shoved aside a couple of soft toys on the settee and sat down with her drink. Grinning apologetically, Bill joined her.
“I wasn’t really expecting company.”
Yeah, she thought, but outwardly she just laughed and sipped her tonic.
“I was lonely and went to that bar to just check it out …”
“And maybe get lucky?”
He blushed. “Yeah.”
She set aside her drink and crawled into his lap. His dark blue gaze sparked. “Well, here I am.”
His hands slide down her body to grasp her hips, squeezing. “Ron’s told me a few things …”
“Ron?”
“Yeah … he mentioned that you sleep around a lot now.”
“Oh bother,” she grumbled.
He laughed. “It’s not a bad thing! I just … I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m not ready for anything serious yet. I hope we can have fun tonight and then …”
“Never speak of it again?”
“If that’s what you want.”
She leaned in and kissed him. “Nothing serious,” she whispered, mouth pressed to his. “Just sex.” She bit his bottom lip.
He groaned.
After a bit of snogging on the settee, they made their way to his bedroom, which was surprisingly tidy. His sheets were even clean.
Another surprise: Bill was a timid lover.
They kissed some more on the bed, both naked now. He was on top of her, hard between her thighs. His mouth was hungry, but his hands barely explored her body.
“What is it?” she whispered in the dark.
“It’s been a long time.”
“Am I the first since … Fleur?” she asked gently.
He nodded.
She had to bite back a moan. Knowing it made her so hot for him. “Tell me what you want. How you like it.”
“I don’t know.”
“Here,” she said, pushing on his chest to give herself room. She flipped over onto her stomach. “Let’s do it in this position.”
“You want me to …?” His hands grabbed her arse, squeezing.
“Fuck me, Bill.”
Groaning, he moved his hands lower until one was on her cunt and the other gripped her thigh. “Fucking hell, you’re already so wet for me.”
She arched her back in encouragement.
Bill, shuddering, thrust into her. He was big, perhaps too big. Hermione moaned.
“Like this?” he gasped, his fingers working her clit.
“Yes, like that,” she moaned.
He fell into a pounding rhythm. The bed knocked against the wall. She buried her face in his pillows, overcome.
“Merlin,” he gasped. Then: “Please tell me you like it.”
“I love it!”
“Fuck, fuck, I need to slow down, or I’m not going to last.” He thrust deep, then stopped, his hips grinding. “Like that?” he growled in her ear.
“Yes, yes.”
He ground and ground, his fingers utter perfect on her swollen flesh.
“I’m coming,” she whimpered, hot pleasure flooding through her. She squeezed around him, milking him, and it caused him to snarl. He was emptying himself, shuddering. He pounded into her as he did it.
When they had both caught their breath, Bill dropped a kiss to her forehead. “Thank you,” he said, a smile in his voice. “I really needed that.”
She stretched widely, then bit her lip when she felt a twinge of pain. It was a good pain.
“And thanks for dealing with … me. My hesitation. I’m not used to … you know.”
“You were married to Fleur. I understand.” She drew him into a kiss.
They lounged in bed as Bill dozed and Hermione played with a bit of his long ginger hair. He was very handsome when he slept. When he awoke, she kissed him on the nose and got up.
“I’m headed home now,” she said cheerfully.
He rolled to his side and watched her dress. His eyes were dark. “Can we do this again?”
“Of course,” she said, kissing him again. Once she was dressed, she left his flat. She couldn’t stop smiling.
*
Draco Malfoy was an eternal bachelor. He was aloof. Sometimes, Hermione wondered if he even cared for her.
It was Saturday night, and she was still riding high from her night with Bill. She was lounging on her settee, a book opened in her lap, when an owl tapped on her window. She turned her head and almost didn’t believe her own eyes. It was Malfoy’s owl.
Setting the book aside, she went to the window and let in the owl. It was an enormous white thing with large arrogant eyes. It pranced for a bit before lifting its talon so she could untie the note. She gave it a treat and settled back down to read what Malfoy wanted.
All the note said was, Granger. That was it. No introduction, no explanation for why he hadn’t reached out in months. Just one word.
Hermione sighed. She knew what that one word meant. He was thinking about her. Aching for her. And he was all alone in his gigantic manor, probably pacing.
She was still sore from her shag with Bill. She was still sated. Malfoy didn’t deserve her attention, not really. She was worth more than how he treated her.
Biting her lip, she couldn’t help but remember their last shag. It had been in the manor’s library, and they had come together like the clash of two storms. Hands buried in each other’s hair. Mouths hungrily kissing and licking and biting. They had taken turns pinning each other to the wall, knocking over books and portraits.
It had been lots and lots of fun, she had to admit.
But was the brilliant sex worth his cold silence afterward? The last time they had run into each other at the Ministry he had even ignored her. Was it worth it?
Sighing again, Hermione got to her feet and headed for her bedroom. She was going to pick out the sluttiest dress she could find.
*
The manor loomed darkly before her. She had been able to Apparated directly onto its sprawling grounds. The moon hung overhead like a watchful eye. Be careful now, it seemed to say.
Hermione approached the front steps. She barely made it to the marble landing before the front door swung open.
“You came,” Malfoy said, candlelight licking at his face.
“I did.”
His silver eyes trailed up and down her body, then darkened. “I can see your knickers.”
“I know.”
“Get in here.”
She almost said no, but she was already throbbing in anticipation. She scurried past him into the shadowy foyer. He slammed the door shut and lunged for her, but she invaded his hands.
“What are you doing?” she said, slipping away.
He prowled toward her. “You know what I’m doing.”
“I almost didn’t come tonight.”
“But here you are.” He tried to grab her again, but she sidestepped him.
“You owe me an apology, Malfoy.”
“For what?”
“For ignoring me. For being a prick.”
“I ignore everyone. You aren’t special.”
She evaded him again and headed for the door. It had been a mistake to come here. At the door, he grabbed her shoulders, and she spun on him and grabbed his throat, shoving him against the wall.
His eyes went wide. Then he laughed. “What exactly do you mean to do?”
She tightened her hand around his throat. “I am special, Malfoy. And I refuse to shag men who don’t think so.”
“You think so highly of yourself!”
What an arse, she thought. She released him and went for the door, but he grabbed her, pulling her to him, and they fell into a wrestle as she tried to yank away and then tried to hit him when he didn’t let go.
“Say stop and I will,” he growled.
She tried to knee him in the groin but he jumped out of the way, laughing.
“What do you want?”
“An apology!”
He pinned her to the wall and leaned in to whisper, “Never.”
She thought to headbutt him, or even poke him in the eye, but instead she reached down and wrapped her hand around his erection. He was already heavy.
“Oh,” he gasped.
“Draco,” she cooed, giving his throat a hot lick. She felt him harden even more in her grasp.
“Yes, like that, oh, like that—”
“You’ve been desperate for it, haven’t you?” she said, still cooing.
“Shut up.”
“So desperate … You’re dying to be inside me, aren’t you?” She squeezed his cock. “Aren’t you?”
“Y-yes!”
She buried her other hand in his soft hair. “Then get down on your knees.”
He laughed cruelly. “No.”
“Oh, well. Nevermind.” She released him and escaped around him. Her hand was on the doorknob when he yelled, “Granger!”
Smirking, she turned around. “What?”
“Don’t leave,” he said, quieter, his cheeks pink. He had yelled for her.
“Why, Malfoy? You’re not willing to give me anything I want.”
He took a deep breath, then slowly, his gaze turned down, lowered to his knees. A shiver went through her.
Still smirking, she strutted past him, headed to the smaller, cosier drawing room. “Come along,” she said, and when she heard him getting to his feet, she stopped and said, “No, remain on your knees. Crawl.”
Malfoy let out a quiet moan and did what she requested.
In the drawing room, she made herself comfortable on the settee by the fire. He was slow going as he crawled, his blond head bent. Over the thudding of her own heart, she heard the crackling flames and his loud, ashamed pants.
When he reached her, Hermione spread her legs for him. “Come here,” she said, tapping her knee as if he were a dog.
Groaning, he shuffled forward.
Hermione carded her fingers through his fine blond hair. “Your face is terribly red, Malfoy.”
“Shut up.”
She pulled his head back by his hair, forcing him to look at her. Yes, there was shame in his eyes, but there was also arousal, hot arousal. The silver looked molten.
“Do you want to taste me?”
He nodded eagerly.
Taking pity on him, Hermione shoved up her dress, giving him access to her lacy black knickers. Moaning, he opened his mouth to her, licking at her lips through the fabric.
“Oh,” she sighed. It felt so good.
Impatient, Malfoy yanked aside her knickers so he could eat her without a barrier. His mouth was terribly warm. It was electrifying.
“Draco,” she gasped as his tongue penetrated her. He moaned wetly. Her thighs were already beginning to shake.
Fuck, Draco Malfoy was an utter arsehole, but he knew how to pleasure a woman.
Hermione cried out and thrust into his mouth as his tongue moved in and out. She squeezed desperately, wanting his cock. The penetration of his tongue just wasn’t enough.
“Now, now,” she urged, yanking at his shirt, trying to pull him to his feet.
Malfoy stood quickly, his mouth drenched, his eyes so dark and lidded. She thought he would mount her on the settee but he took her to the ancient wood floor. He ripped off her knickers, quickly shoved down his trousers and pants, and then he was inside her.
“Oh, God!” She arched against the hard floor.
Groaning, he pounded into her, not letting her get used to the penetration. She was still a little sore from Bill’s fucking.
Malfoy was talking, his words hot against her neck. It was difficult to hear him above her pants. “Fuck you, Granger. Is this good enough for you? Is this what you want? Fuck you.”
She sneaked her hands beneath his shirt and raked her nails down his back, causing him to hiss. “Harder,” she commanded.
Somehow he complied, and the force of his thrusts made them slide against the floor. She felt him grow even more stiff inside her. He began to whimper.
Knowing he was close, wanting to ruin him, she whispered, “Come inside me, Draco.”
His thrusts hiccupped. “Shut up.”
“Please, Draco. I want your seed. Oh, please. Fill me up. Claim me.”
He gasped and began to spill inside, shuddering all over. “I could love you if only you’d let me,” he whimpered, mid-orgasm. He bit down on her shoulder as if to make sure he didn’t say anything else.
When it was all over, Hermione was so sore she could barely move. They were too old to be shagging on the floor.
“You haven’t come,” Draco murmured, kissing the bite on her shoulder. Orgasming always softened him up (ha).
“Will you put your mouth on me again?”
“Yes,” he said, and bent his head eagerly. The first touch of his tongue made her cry out. She was already on the verge. Moaning, he ate her thoroughly, and it was the knowledge that he was licking up his own spunk that made her tip over the edge.
“Oh, Draco, Draco,” she moaned, this time meaning it. The orgasm was intense.
Hermione was nearly asleep when Malfoy took her into his arms and carried her to his bedroom. He cleaned her up with a few gentle spells. “Stay as long as you would like,” he whispered in the darkness.
Hermione slept for a few hours, but she awoke alone in the bed. She gathered her things and Disapparated.
*
“I’m not ready to be a father again,” Bill croaked.
“I understand.”
“And I never wanted to be a father,” Malfoy said.
“I understand that as well.”
She sighed and sipped her tea. “I still want to keep this baby. And I don’t need your help. Not financially, not emotionally. I would like it, but I don’t need it.”
They stared at her.
“Neither of you need to be in the child’s life,” she explained further. “Bill, before we shagged, I promised that nothing serious would come of it and that can still be the case, even if I’m now pregnant.”
Bill stood suddenly. “You are talking nonsense!”
“And why is that?” she said.
Bill was pacing, his blue eyes flashing. “Fine, if you want to have this child then have it, but I will be in its life if the baby turns out to be mine.”
“I have no intention of doing a paternity test.”
Malfoy’s mouth fell open. Bill stopped his pacing to glare at her.
Hermione set aside her tea calmly. “What if we raised the child together? As a community?”
“What?” Malfoy snapped.
“Why does a child need to have only two parents? Why can’t they have multiple? I want my baby to have all the love it can get.”
Bill sucked in a deep breath. Then another. “Are you saying you’d want the both of us to be the baby’s fathers?”
“Yes, if you would like, or you could be just the family friend who stops by on occasion. Whatever you are comfortable with.”
“I hate this,” Malfoy said.
She gazed at him in curiosity. “Why?”
Malfoy’s eyes glittered darkly. “It wasn’t supposed to turn out like this.”
“You never wanted to marry or have kids, Malfoy. You just said so yourself.”
“People change, Granger.”
Bill was watching them. “Malfoy … are you in love with Hermione?”
Malfoy’s mouth tightened. “I refuse to answer that.”
“I want to be a mother and I’m not going to wait around for you to figure out if you want to be with me or not,” Hermione said. She looked at Bill then. “And I do have feelings for both of you. I want both of you to be the father of my baby.”
“Please tell me you are not proposing polyamory,” Malfoy growled.
“Well … only the consent part, not the relationship part. I have no intention for the three of us to be in a relationship.”
“Good, because I don’t like men,” Bill said.
“Me either!” Malfoy insisted, but his voice was too high.
Hermione did everything she could not to roll her eyes. She stood and went to Bill. Kissing him lightly, she said, “Will you please be the father of my baby? Help me raise them?”
“Yes,” Bill said after a moment.
Then she went to Malfoy. Before she could speak, he framed her face and drew her into a possessive kiss. “I want you,” he said.
“I know.” Then: “Will you be the father of my baby? Along with Bill?”
“Will you still be fucking him?”
“Yes!” Bill answered for her.
Malfoy’s expression only grew darker.
Hermione carded her fingers through his lovely blond hair. “You have a lot of hang ups about me. You know you do. I’m not going to wait around for you to figure out if you can bring yourself to commit to a Muggleborn woman.”
“It’s not like that.”
She let the silence answer for her. Then, after a few moments, she said, “Will you also be the father of my baby, Malfoy?”
He gritted his teeth. “Yes.”
Joyful, she kissed him deeply, clinging to him. Then she went to Bill and kissed him again. “Thank you, thank you,” she said, fingers tracing his sexy scars.
“I haven’t a clue how I’m going to explain this to my mother,” Bill said.
“Me either,” Malfoy added.
Hermione laughed.
Author/Artist:
Pairing(s): Hermione/Draco, Hermione/Bill
Prompt: # O12
Summary: After shagging Draco and Bill, Hermione discovers that she's pregnant, and she has no intentions of casting a paternity spell.
Word Count: 3,500
Rating: Explicit
Warnings/Contains: casual sex, dirty talk, light femdom, begging, crawling, rough sex
Notes: Thank you for reading <3
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
When Hermione discovered she was pregnant, she Firecalled Bill Weasley and Draco Malfoy. She had shagged them both recently. Her birth control spells had failed her.
“Will you come around my flat tonight? Say six o’clock?” she asked them.
“Sure, but I might be late,” Bill said. “I have little Victoire until five thirty.”
“Why?” Malfoy said, his eyes narrowed.
She smiled. “Please just try to make it.”
That night, Hermione served them tea and biscuits, and made sure they were both comfortable.
Malfoy glared openly at Bill. “What is he doing here?”
“Yes, I would like to know that as well,” Bill said.
“You are here because I’m pregnant.”
Bill dropped his teacup, shattering it. “Fuck,” he said, quickly cleaning up the mess.
“What did you just say to us?” Malfoy growled.
“I’m pregnant and both of you might be the father.”
Hermione had a secret. She liked to party, to get down. She liked wearing short skirts and high heels and dancing on a crowded floor until the sun came up.
She also liked taking men home. Loads of men. Too many. She was a slag, but she wasn’t ashamed. She worked too hard in her career, held too much power at the Ministry, to let shame get in the way of her desires.
Three weeks before she discovered she was pregnant, she had the best weekend of her life. On Friday night, she ventured to a speakeasy-themed bar called the Nightjar. It was crowded but she felt like a million Galleons in her tight black cocktail dress. She gazed about the smoky room, looking for an open seat, when her eyes landed on Bill Weasley.
There had always been something about Bill. He was dangerous but wholesome, friendly but serious, protective but distant. In the stark lighting of the bar, his scars shimmered as if they were made of moondust.
His gaze tracked her every move as she made her way across the room to him. “Hello,” she said brightly, eagerly. “Is this seat taken?”
“No,” he grunted, his gaze still on her, eating her up.
She sat down. “I need a drink.”
“Let me,” he said, and waved the bartender over.
A few minutes later, she had a cocktail in front of her, made up of something called moonshine and fruity liqueur.
“I didn’t expect you to find you here,” Bill said.
She sipped her drink. It was very, very good. “Why not?”
He shrugged. “Bars don’t seem your thing.”
“Did you expect me to be at home, reading tomes and petting my cat?”
His gaze bored into her. “Depends on the type of cat.”
She smirked at him. The silence was easy between them. The bar was smoky and shadowy but it was also very loud.
“How is divorce life treating you?” she asked.
Another shrug. “Good. Better. Being a single dad is tough sometimes.”
“I’m sure Molly helps you out.”
“She does. And Fleur’s a brilliant mum. A real gem. We just weren’t right for each other.”
“I used to dislike Fleur. A lot. I’m ashamed of it now. I think I was just jealous.”
“If you don’t mind me asking … why?”
“Why was I jealous? Oh, for loads of reasons. She was gorgeous; Ron could barely string two words together around her; she had you …”
It was difficult to tell in the lighting, but Hermione was sure Bill’s cheeks turned pink.
“I didn’t know you fancied me,” he said after a moment.
She laughed and sipped her drink. “Everyone fancied you, Bill.”
“No, they didn’t.”
“You were cool. Older. Powerful and intelligent.”
“I was also maimed.”
“The scars only make you more beautiful.”
He sucked in a breath.
Hermione was being bold, very bold, but she also felt great. Her cocktail was delicious and the music in the bar was hypnotic, sexy.
“Would you like to dance?” she asked.
He smiled and shook his head. “I’m not in the mood.”
“What are you in the mood for?”
“Well …” He dragged his gaze up and down her body, not being subtle.
“Let’s get out of here.”
They went back to his place, which turned out to be a small flat near Gringotts. It was old and stuffy but it had great windows. There were toys scattered everywhere. Little dolls and tiny wooden wands.
“Care for another drink?” he asked.
“Yes, please.”
Hermione shoved aside a couple of soft toys on the settee and sat down with her drink. Grinning apologetically, Bill joined her.
“I wasn’t really expecting company.”
Yeah, she thought, but outwardly she just laughed and sipped her tonic.
“I was lonely and went to that bar to just check it out …”
“And maybe get lucky?”
He blushed. “Yeah.”
She set aside her drink and crawled into his lap. His dark blue gaze sparked. “Well, here I am.”
His hands slide down her body to grasp her hips, squeezing. “Ron’s told me a few things …”
“Ron?”
“Yeah … he mentioned that you sleep around a lot now.”
“Oh bother,” she grumbled.
He laughed. “It’s not a bad thing! I just … I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m not ready for anything serious yet. I hope we can have fun tonight and then …”
“Never speak of it again?”
“If that’s what you want.”
She leaned in and kissed him. “Nothing serious,” she whispered, mouth pressed to his. “Just sex.” She bit his bottom lip.
He groaned.
After a bit of snogging on the settee, they made their way to his bedroom, which was surprisingly tidy. His sheets were even clean.
Another surprise: Bill was a timid lover.
They kissed some more on the bed, both naked now. He was on top of her, hard between her thighs. His mouth was hungry, but his hands barely explored her body.
“What is it?” she whispered in the dark.
“It’s been a long time.”
“Am I the first since … Fleur?” she asked gently.
He nodded.
She had to bite back a moan. Knowing it made her so hot for him. “Tell me what you want. How you like it.”
“I don’t know.”
“Here,” she said, pushing on his chest to give herself room. She flipped over onto her stomach. “Let’s do it in this position.”
“You want me to …?” His hands grabbed her arse, squeezing.
“Fuck me, Bill.”
Groaning, he moved his hands lower until one was on her cunt and the other gripped her thigh. “Fucking hell, you’re already so wet for me.”
She arched her back in encouragement.
Bill, shuddering, thrust into her. He was big, perhaps too big. Hermione moaned.
“Like this?” he gasped, his fingers working her clit.
“Yes, like that,” she moaned.
He fell into a pounding rhythm. The bed knocked against the wall. She buried her face in his pillows, overcome.
“Merlin,” he gasped. Then: “Please tell me you like it.”
“I love it!”
“Fuck, fuck, I need to slow down, or I’m not going to last.” He thrust deep, then stopped, his hips grinding. “Like that?” he growled in her ear.
“Yes, yes.”
He ground and ground, his fingers utter perfect on her swollen flesh.
“I’m coming,” she whimpered, hot pleasure flooding through her. She squeezed around him, milking him, and it caused him to snarl. He was emptying himself, shuddering. He pounded into her as he did it.
When they had both caught their breath, Bill dropped a kiss to her forehead. “Thank you,” he said, a smile in his voice. “I really needed that.”
She stretched widely, then bit her lip when she felt a twinge of pain. It was a good pain.
“And thanks for dealing with … me. My hesitation. I’m not used to … you know.”
“You were married to Fleur. I understand.” She drew him into a kiss.
They lounged in bed as Bill dozed and Hermione played with a bit of his long ginger hair. He was very handsome when he slept. When he awoke, she kissed him on the nose and got up.
“I’m headed home now,” she said cheerfully.
He rolled to his side and watched her dress. His eyes were dark. “Can we do this again?”
“Of course,” she said, kissing him again. Once she was dressed, she left his flat. She couldn’t stop smiling.
Draco Malfoy was an eternal bachelor. He was aloof. Sometimes, Hermione wondered if he even cared for her.
It was Saturday night, and she was still riding high from her night with Bill. She was lounging on her settee, a book opened in her lap, when an owl tapped on her window. She turned her head and almost didn’t believe her own eyes. It was Malfoy’s owl.
Setting the book aside, she went to the window and let in the owl. It was an enormous white thing with large arrogant eyes. It pranced for a bit before lifting its talon so she could untie the note. She gave it a treat and settled back down to read what Malfoy wanted.
All the note said was, Granger. That was it. No introduction, no explanation for why he hadn’t reached out in months. Just one word.
Hermione sighed. She knew what that one word meant. He was thinking about her. Aching for her. And he was all alone in his gigantic manor, probably pacing.
She was still sore from her shag with Bill. She was still sated. Malfoy didn’t deserve her attention, not really. She was worth more than how he treated her.
Biting her lip, she couldn’t help but remember their last shag. It had been in the manor’s library, and they had come together like the clash of two storms. Hands buried in each other’s hair. Mouths hungrily kissing and licking and biting. They had taken turns pinning each other to the wall, knocking over books and portraits.
It had been lots and lots of fun, she had to admit.
But was the brilliant sex worth his cold silence afterward? The last time they had run into each other at the Ministry he had even ignored her. Was it worth it?
Sighing again, Hermione got to her feet and headed for her bedroom. She was going to pick out the sluttiest dress she could find.
The manor loomed darkly before her. She had been able to Apparated directly onto its sprawling grounds. The moon hung overhead like a watchful eye. Be careful now, it seemed to say.
Hermione approached the front steps. She barely made it to the marble landing before the front door swung open.
“You came,” Malfoy said, candlelight licking at his face.
“I did.”
His silver eyes trailed up and down her body, then darkened. “I can see your knickers.”
“I know.”
“Get in here.”
She almost said no, but she was already throbbing in anticipation. She scurried past him into the shadowy foyer. He slammed the door shut and lunged for her, but she invaded his hands.
“What are you doing?” she said, slipping away.
He prowled toward her. “You know what I’m doing.”
“I almost didn’t come tonight.”
“But here you are.” He tried to grab her again, but she sidestepped him.
“You owe me an apology, Malfoy.”
“For what?”
“For ignoring me. For being a prick.”
“I ignore everyone. You aren’t special.”
She evaded him again and headed for the door. It had been a mistake to come here. At the door, he grabbed her shoulders, and she spun on him and grabbed his throat, shoving him against the wall.
His eyes went wide. Then he laughed. “What exactly do you mean to do?”
She tightened her hand around his throat. “I am special, Malfoy. And I refuse to shag men who don’t think so.”
“You think so highly of yourself!”
What an arse, she thought. She released him and went for the door, but he grabbed her, pulling her to him, and they fell into a wrestle as she tried to yank away and then tried to hit him when he didn’t let go.
“Say stop and I will,” he growled.
She tried to knee him in the groin but he jumped out of the way, laughing.
“What do you want?”
“An apology!”
He pinned her to the wall and leaned in to whisper, “Never.”
She thought to headbutt him, or even poke him in the eye, but instead she reached down and wrapped her hand around his erection. He was already heavy.
“Oh,” he gasped.
“Draco,” she cooed, giving his throat a hot lick. She felt him harden even more in her grasp.
“Yes, like that, oh, like that—”
“You’ve been desperate for it, haven’t you?” she said, still cooing.
“Shut up.”
“So desperate … You’re dying to be inside me, aren’t you?” She squeezed his cock. “Aren’t you?”
“Y-yes!”
She buried her other hand in his soft hair. “Then get down on your knees.”
He laughed cruelly. “No.”
“Oh, well. Nevermind.” She released him and escaped around him. Her hand was on the doorknob when he yelled, “Granger!”
Smirking, she turned around. “What?”
“Don’t leave,” he said, quieter, his cheeks pink. He had yelled for her.
“Why, Malfoy? You’re not willing to give me anything I want.”
He took a deep breath, then slowly, his gaze turned down, lowered to his knees. A shiver went through her.
Still smirking, she strutted past him, headed to the smaller, cosier drawing room. “Come along,” she said, and when she heard him getting to his feet, she stopped and said, “No, remain on your knees. Crawl.”
Malfoy let out a quiet moan and did what she requested.
In the drawing room, she made herself comfortable on the settee by the fire. He was slow going as he crawled, his blond head bent. Over the thudding of her own heart, she heard the crackling flames and his loud, ashamed pants.
When he reached her, Hermione spread her legs for him. “Come here,” she said, tapping her knee as if he were a dog.
Groaning, he shuffled forward.
Hermione carded her fingers through his fine blond hair. “Your face is terribly red, Malfoy.”
“Shut up.”
She pulled his head back by his hair, forcing him to look at her. Yes, there was shame in his eyes, but there was also arousal, hot arousal. The silver looked molten.
“Do you want to taste me?”
He nodded eagerly.
Taking pity on him, Hermione shoved up her dress, giving him access to her lacy black knickers. Moaning, he opened his mouth to her, licking at her lips through the fabric.
“Oh,” she sighed. It felt so good.
Impatient, Malfoy yanked aside her knickers so he could eat her without a barrier. His mouth was terribly warm. It was electrifying.
“Draco,” she gasped as his tongue penetrated her. He moaned wetly. Her thighs were already beginning to shake.
Fuck, Draco Malfoy was an utter arsehole, but he knew how to pleasure a woman.
Hermione cried out and thrust into his mouth as his tongue moved in and out. She squeezed desperately, wanting his cock. The penetration of his tongue just wasn’t enough.
“Now, now,” she urged, yanking at his shirt, trying to pull him to his feet.
Malfoy stood quickly, his mouth drenched, his eyes so dark and lidded. She thought he would mount her on the settee but he took her to the ancient wood floor. He ripped off her knickers, quickly shoved down his trousers and pants, and then he was inside her.
“Oh, God!” She arched against the hard floor.
Groaning, he pounded into her, not letting her get used to the penetration. She was still a little sore from Bill’s fucking.
Malfoy was talking, his words hot against her neck. It was difficult to hear him above her pants. “Fuck you, Granger. Is this good enough for you? Is this what you want? Fuck you.”
She sneaked her hands beneath his shirt and raked her nails down his back, causing him to hiss. “Harder,” she commanded.
Somehow he complied, and the force of his thrusts made them slide against the floor. She felt him grow even more stiff inside her. He began to whimper.
Knowing he was close, wanting to ruin him, she whispered, “Come inside me, Draco.”
His thrusts hiccupped. “Shut up.”
“Please, Draco. I want your seed. Oh, please. Fill me up. Claim me.”
He gasped and began to spill inside, shuddering all over. “I could love you if only you’d let me,” he whimpered, mid-orgasm. He bit down on her shoulder as if to make sure he didn’t say anything else.
When it was all over, Hermione was so sore she could barely move. They were too old to be shagging on the floor.
“You haven’t come,” Draco murmured, kissing the bite on her shoulder. Orgasming always softened him up (ha).
“Will you put your mouth on me again?”
“Yes,” he said, and bent his head eagerly. The first touch of his tongue made her cry out. She was already on the verge. Moaning, he ate her thoroughly, and it was the knowledge that he was licking up his own spunk that made her tip over the edge.
“Oh, Draco, Draco,” she moaned, this time meaning it. The orgasm was intense.
Hermione was nearly asleep when Malfoy took her into his arms and carried her to his bedroom. He cleaned her up with a few gentle spells. “Stay as long as you would like,” he whispered in the darkness.
Hermione slept for a few hours, but she awoke alone in the bed. She gathered her things and Disapparated.
“I’m not ready to be a father again,” Bill croaked.
“I understand.”
“And I never wanted to be a father,” Malfoy said.
“I understand that as well.”
She sighed and sipped her tea. “I still want to keep this baby. And I don’t need your help. Not financially, not emotionally. I would like it, but I don’t need it.”
They stared at her.
“Neither of you need to be in the child’s life,” she explained further. “Bill, before we shagged, I promised that nothing serious would come of it and that can still be the case, even if I’m now pregnant.”
Bill stood suddenly. “You are talking nonsense!”
“And why is that?” she said.
Bill was pacing, his blue eyes flashing. “Fine, if you want to have this child then have it, but I will be in its life if the baby turns out to be mine.”
“I have no intention of doing a paternity test.”
Malfoy’s mouth fell open. Bill stopped his pacing to glare at her.
Hermione set aside her tea calmly. “What if we raised the child together? As a community?”
“What?” Malfoy snapped.
“Why does a child need to have only two parents? Why can’t they have multiple? I want my baby to have all the love it can get.”
Bill sucked in a deep breath. Then another. “Are you saying you’d want the both of us to be the baby’s fathers?”
“Yes, if you would like, or you could be just the family friend who stops by on occasion. Whatever you are comfortable with.”
“I hate this,” Malfoy said.
She gazed at him in curiosity. “Why?”
Malfoy’s eyes glittered darkly. “It wasn’t supposed to turn out like this.”
“You never wanted to marry or have kids, Malfoy. You just said so yourself.”
“People change, Granger.”
Bill was watching them. “Malfoy … are you in love with Hermione?”
Malfoy’s mouth tightened. “I refuse to answer that.”
“I want to be a mother and I’m not going to wait around for you to figure out if you want to be with me or not,” Hermione said. She looked at Bill then. “And I do have feelings for both of you. I want both of you to be the father of my baby.”
“Please tell me you are not proposing polyamory,” Malfoy growled.
“Well … only the consent part, not the relationship part. I have no intention for the three of us to be in a relationship.”
“Good, because I don’t like men,” Bill said.
“Me either!” Malfoy insisted, but his voice was too high.
Hermione did everything she could not to roll her eyes. She stood and went to Bill. Kissing him lightly, she said, “Will you please be the father of my baby? Help me raise them?”
“Yes,” Bill said after a moment.
Then she went to Malfoy. Before she could speak, he framed her face and drew her into a possessive kiss. “I want you,” he said.
“I know.” Then: “Will you be the father of my baby? Along with Bill?”
“Will you still be fucking him?”
“Yes!” Bill answered for her.
Malfoy’s expression only grew darker.
Hermione carded her fingers through his lovely blond hair. “You have a lot of hang ups about me. You know you do. I’m not going to wait around for you to figure out if you can bring yourself to commit to a Muggleborn woman.”
“It’s not like that.”
She let the silence answer for her. Then, after a few moments, she said, “Will you also be the father of my baby, Malfoy?”
He gritted his teeth. “Yes.”
Joyful, she kissed him deeply, clinging to him. Then she went to Bill and kissed him again. “Thank you, thank you,” she said, fingers tracing his sexy scars.
“I haven’t a clue how I’m going to explain this to my mother,” Bill said.
“Me either,” Malfoy added.
Hermione laughed.
