Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Quartet	By : OracleObscured Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 128263 -:- Recommendations : 5 -:- Currently Reading : 11
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any other characters/things/places created by J.K. Rowling. I make no money from my fan-fiction.

Chapter List
- 13
- 14
- 15
A/N: Dedicated__Reader: Glad you're back :) Yes, she is working herself in an emotional conundrum--I like that. And things are only going to become more confusing; I can't even begin to explain :D *Slightly evil laugh*
Setsuna24: Oooooo, I can't wait for you to see how right you are. :)
DS: How to feather their own nests. I like that :)
"whoa, harsh!"--Yes, it is. And it's going to get worse before it gets better.
Oh, and thank you for all the corrections for chapter 12. (It turned out I'd fucked up about 1/3 of the sentences in Word trying to delete the extra spaces between paragraphs. A bunch of them were missing the final punctuation.)
Hey, you're caught up now! Yay.
" I bum block the kids all the time."--Hahahaha!
"she does sound at serious risk of squatter’s twat at the moment."--*Snort* She'll be fine. I'll send her over to Sense & Insensibility for some magical mystery semen.
"I'm off to make inquiries!"--Hahaha! I hope they accepted your offer to clean the caves.
Lissa: :D I know, I know. I'd put them out faster, but I've got to build myself a safety net of finished chapters. Trust me, you me to get ahead now so I can put out the later stuff faster :) And I'm glad to hear you're enjoying the story. I hope this puts a dent in your cravings.
14—Portamento
“Hold me now. Ooooh, warm my heart. Stay with me. Let lovin' start, let lovin' start.”—Thompson Twins
(Draco)
Draco glided through the halls of the Ministry, buoyant with happiness and eager to take Hermione to lunch. He’d seen her in the lifts that morning, but they’d yet to discuss the weekend’s festivities. Closing his eyes for a moment, he saw her as she'd been in the throes of orgasm, her head tipped back, mouth slack, flesh rippling as she rode him for all he was worth. Draco reluctantly opened his eyes and smiled to himself. Seeing her in those shapeless Ministry robes was maddening now that he knew what lay beneath. She should just walk about all day without a stitch, jiggling through the office like a jelly angel. It would certainly make the lifts more tolerable.
He’d managed to get a handful of her while they were between floors, but that wasn’t enough to sustain his sanity. He needed her scrumptious lips against his, her angelic tongue soaring into his mouth. He longed to taste her desire again, to feel the breathy promise of her praise on his lips.
Despite Lucius’s involvement, Friday had been bloody spectacular. Watching her writhe and gyrate with such wanton yearning, even on another man’s cock, was hot enough to make his brain sweat. Although upon further reflection, hot was a sorely inadequate description. Molten. Blistering. Sweltering. Those were closer but still insufficient. He wanted to lay down on top of her and be immolated in the flames of her passion.
But being in the same bed with his father and sharing Hermione with that pig had bordered on torturous. Just seeing the old man penetrate her had inspired a slew of violent fantasies, but with Draco's history, he doubted the Wizengamot would rule in his favor. It might only be justifiable homicide in his mind. While his first instinct had been to punch Lucius in the face, he was strangely spellbound by the image they presented. Snape and his father were poetry in motion, working in tandem to push her body to new heights. And to be quite honest, it had been exciting to be part of the pack . . . even if he had to go last.
Lucius and Severus had basically taken over the operation, but being the man in charge of tit worship suited Draco just fine. It was his dream job.
Those mounds were majestic, tipped in the caramelized pink caps of the gods. The sharp peak of each nipple cut into the air, cracked and rocky, begging for the wet succor of his tongue. He longed to mash his maw between both globes and get lost in her landscape. All that velvety smooth skin made him want to rub his cheek over every inch of her body, and once he’d begun to suckle her, he hadn’t been able to stop. Even when his mouth had been stuffed full of her pink areola, he’d hungered for more. And she must have been fond of it too, because she grabbed his hair and clutched his neck as if she wanted him to unhinge his jaw and devour her entire breast. He’d been in seventh-heaven.
She didn’t touch Lucius or Severus like that. They might know how to make her scream like a Mandrake, but Draco reveled in the knowledge that he was the only one she’d kissed. The only one she’d hugged. The only one she'd graced with that brilliant smile. He’d made her laugh with delight, and every ounce of his being wanted to hear that joyous sound again and again.
And the way she ridden him! Unh! He bit his lower lip, an inhale of lust hissing though his teeth as he recalled the slap of her sex and the bounce of her breasts. Gods, he liked bouncy! Her moves were sure and purposeful; she was no shrinking violet when at the helm. He preferred a witch who knew what she wanted—and did she ever make it clear what she wanted. When she'd leaned down and pressed her lips to his, eating his hungry moans and whispering how much she loved his cock, Draco had almost ascended into another plane of existence. He’d never had a witch wax poetic about his manhood before, and he was blown away by her praise.
If anyone deserved such ardent acclaim, it was Snape. Draco had to admit he was intimidated by his godfather’s size, but he was fairly confident he could make up for any inch difference with dogged effort. Severus might be a deft lover of epic penile proportions, but the man was as warm as an icicle. Draco had him beat by a mile in that department.
It was Draco she’d been kissing when she came, and it was Draco’s jizz that had been spattered across her tits and then massaged in for keeps. He suspected she had some kind of semen fetish, but he was encouraged by the fact that his boys had been laid to rest on hallowed ground. She hadn’t spelled it off before leaving; she’d gone home with his essence plastered across her chest like the breastplate of a sexual warrior goddess.
Did that mean he’d won the battle for supremacy? Who had been her favorite? Did she want his father more than him? Or was she too gobsmacked by Snape’s dick to remember either Malfoy? Granger wasn’t really a witch who was stuck on surface features, so Draco held out some hope that his affection had put him at the top of the list.
Wasn’t that what witches wanted? Cuddling? Snogging? That was the popular theory, but in Draco’s experience, some witches just weren’t that amatory. A lot of them had all the liveliness of a dead carp . . . and a few had eaten his face with the enthusiasm of a soulless robot. He cringed just thinking about it.
But Hermione was perfection. The sweetness of her snogging wrapped him like a warm blanket. She possessed both a patience and passion that made his head spin. Her lips could peck his cheek with such tenderness and then, seconds later, she'd be exploring his molars with fevered intensity. Gods, he needed to see her!
Rounding the corner, Draco nodded at one of her colleagues, unable to keep from beaming now that he was so close. Peeking over her cubicle wall, he grinned at her bushy head as she intently scribbled across a parchment with her blue quill.
“Hey, Granger. I got us reservations for lunch today. I want to—” He stopped when he spotted the flowers sitting on the floor next to her desk. “Who are those from?”
Hermione’s face knitted with confusion, her eyes fixed on the report before her as if she’d missed something. “Who are what from?”
“The flowers.”
Her cheeks flushed to a vivid pink, and she glanced at the arrangement. “Oh. Uh . . . the roses are from your father,” she said quietly.
Draco fumed. That rat bastard! Where did he get off sending her flowers? Did he really think a couple dozen roses would sway her opinion? “And the others? Did Snape send those?” he whispered.
She nodded. “I was just as shocked as you are.”
“Great,” he said with an annoyed sigh. “So I’m the one prat who didn’t get you flowers.”
A soft smile of understanding tugged at her lips. “Don’t be silly, Draco. When have you ever seen me mooning over flowers.”
He couldn’t think of a single instance . . . because he’d never seen her get any flowers before. Fabulous. He was just as bad as all the other wankers she dated, too self-absorbed for a simple token of appreciation. I’m a bloody idiot.
“I don’t need flowers. They’re pretty and all, and I’m touched that they thought of me; but it means a lot to me that you come here every day to take me to the canteen.”
Well there was one good thing—he could do better than the canteen. “I want to take you to a real restaurant today.”
Hermione smiled and pushed aside her work as she stood. “Come over here so no one sees us.”
Draco perked up and slid around her cubicle so he was crammed into the tiny space with her. She yanked him closer, and he found himself wedged into the corner between the filing cabinet and the wall.
Hermione’s hands snaked around him, her arms trapping him in a fierce hug. Draco’s heart raced, somehow pounding like thunder even though it was melting like snow in a bonfire. Returning her embrace, he rested his face atop her head and breathed in the sweet aroma of her apple shampoo; the scent clouded his brain in a fog bank of blissful peace, and he closed his eyes in an attempt to commit the moment to memory.
Tipping back her head, she looked up at him with those warm brown eyes that made his toes curl, and his befuddled brain saw no option but to kiss her. As soon as her lips touched his, his dick began to fill with hope. Her tongue twirled its way into his mouth, and he groaned in welcome. Screw lunch! They should stay right where they were.
Hermione patted his chest and leaned back to disconnect their kiss. “We should get going. We’re not going to have enough time to eat.”
Eat? Oh. Right. Lunch was for food. Not snogging. Damn logical Granger. He sighed but nodded in agreement and led her out and down the hall. When they boarded the lift, there were only three other people on their way up, so he had no excuse to crowd her in the corner. Of all the times for the lift not to be packed with people. Dammit!
In the lobby she politely held his arm as he Apparated them to an alley near the restaurant. How could she be so restrained? All he wanted was to throw her down and shag her in the middle of the busy street.
The restaurant was bustling with workday lunchers, but they were escorted to his reserved table immediately. That was good. He needed to sit. They got a nice table in the back where they wouldn’t be disturbed or overheard, and Hermione perused the menu while Draco perused Hermione. His eyes were locked on her mouth, his cock aching every time her teeth scraped her lower lip in ponderous concentration. Being so close without touching was a cruel test of his willpower.
“Hermione?”
She glanced up. “Hm?”
“What are you doing tomorrow night?”
“Taking a bath and reading like I do every night.”
Mmmmm, baaaaaaaath. “Can I come over to your place? I could wash your back for you.”
Hermione laughed. “Is something wrong? You never come over on a Tuesday.”
“Nothing’s really wrong, I just . . .” Want to make sure I’m the only man you’re hugging. “I just wanted to see you.”
Her smile wobbled, and she suddenly looked a bit embarrassed. “Of course you can come over.”
“Can I stay?”
Her eyebrows popped high. “All night?”
Draco nodded. “And I don’t mean on the couch. I want to stay with you. In your bed.”
“How are we going to go to work in the morning?”
He gave her a confused look. “The same way we always go to work?”
“You do know everybody’s going to be talking if they see us Apparating together, don’t you? It’ll be all over the Ministry.”
“So we’ll Apparate separately.”
“Oh.” She seemed to accept that solution as viable, and her expression shifted to friendly curiosity. “Sooooo . . . what did you have in mind? Are we going to Lucky’s Tavern?”
He sighed. “No, Granger. I just want to go to your place. You know, be with you. Not in a state of drunkenness.”
Hermione nodded slowly. “Are you wanting to . . . do what we did the other night?”
Merlin’s mossy teeth! How could she go from wanton sex kitten on Friday to embarrassed virgin Monday afternoon? Maybe it was Snape and Lucius who brought out the naughty side of her. Maybe he was fooling himself. “I just want to be with you. If you want to play bath time fun with Draco, I’m always up for a go; but if you just want to read or something, that’s fine too . . . as long as you don’t mind me feeling you up while you do it. But I can be really quiet.”
Hermione’s smile pulled wide. “Do you really want to take a bath with me?”
It was a good thing the tablecloth was long enough to hide his one-handed package repacking. “Are you bloody serious? Why the hell wouldn’t I want to take a bath with you? I’d take a bath with you every damn day if I could.”
She looked down at her water, still grinning. “Sounds fun.”
Draco slid his foot against hers, desperate for some contact. She’d agreed, and she looked excited about it. If he was the one she had the most fun with, maybe he could convince her Lucius and Snape were unnecessary . . . or at least Lucius could become redundant; Severus might be okay to keep around for occasional threesomes. “Do you have enough soap in the house to get me clean?”
Hermione looked up, and her mirth morphed to sly sexuality. “Have you been a dirty boy?”
If his cock hadn’t been tangled in his shorts, his hard-on would have rammed the bottom of the table with enough force to knock over the water glasses. How had she divined his most prevalent fantasies so fast? “Yes, miss. Very dirty. Will you—?“
“Good afternoon,” the waiter said, interrupting their game before it could get good. “The chef’s special today is salmon salad with feta, almonds, and balsamic vinaigrette. The soup of the day is lobster bisque.”
Draco sighed as he droned on, but Hermione smiled attentively, as if she were dying to be regaled on the wonders of ravioli. Stupid waiter. Now the moment was ruined.
“Oh that sounds lovely,” Hermione suddenly interjected. “I’ll have that.”
Draco had no idea what the man had said, but he nodded and handed over his menu just to get rid of him. “I’ll have the same.”
“May I interest you in a nice white wine to go with lunch?”
“Yes. I’m parched,” Draco said, sipping his water to dampen the heat wave rolling through his body.
Hermione shook her head. “Just water for me, thanks. Wine always makes me drowsy.”
The waiter nodded and took the menus, leaving them alone again.
“I’m so hungry,” Hermione murmured, and with a coy look slid her foot up his calf.
Bloody hell! Was she insinuating that she needed helping of Draco drumstick to slake her appetite? “I’m surprised you didn’t order oysters.”
She blushed but continued her smooth ascent up the inside of his leg. “I hardly think they’re necessary.”
“Ready for another go already?” he teased as her foot came to rest on his seat, right between his thighs. Good lord, had she taken off her shoe? He glanced down, and she wiggled her tight-clad toes at him in greeting. The movement brushed his burgeoning bulge, and his dick furiously fought its confinement to wave back. Or perhaps it was signaling for relief.
It got none. She sank down lower and pressed her sole to his erection. Her wiggling piggies tested the boundaries of his manhood, and when she got the lay of his land, she tiptoed to the check point and frisked him for contraband. Draco gritted his teeth and leaned back in his seat. Point and flex—she danced along the edge of his dick like a prima ballerina, foot-wanking him with the most wicked smile on her face.
“I was just thinking,” she mused in a deceptively innocent tone, “I could do with some more of Professor Snape’s custard.”
He didn’t know if she was honestly saying she wanted custard, or if she was suggesting some chocolate-coated naughtiness. “I’ll bring over the leftovers if you still want to play custard costume shop.”
Hermione laughed loudly and reached across the table for his hand.
Draco leaned forward and caught her fingers with his. His skin tingled at her touch, his stomach fluttering like a drunken hummingbird. They stayed joined at the hands until the main course was served, at which time she smoothly extracted her foot from his engorged genitals.
Draco hadn’t been expecting a serving of blue balls for lunch, but he had to admit the meal was memorable. He’d never eat lobster ravioli again without a sentimental ache pulsing through his groin.
Soooooo worth it, he thought with a smile and adjusted himself once more. He'd gotten a date with the sexiest witch he knew, an entire night with her all to himself.
Suck on that, Daddy Dearest. Fuck you and the rose you rode in on.
Portamento—A smooth glide from note to note.
"Hold Me Now" by the Thompson Twins. 1983. Written by Tom Bailey, Alannah Currie, and Joe Leeway (all members of the band). "Hold me Now" was their biggest hit, the record going gold.
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=H9694K85Xc8
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