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
- 24
- 25
- 26
A/N: Well. Crap. That took longer than planned. But I've got two chapters ready for you all--and they're not particularly short. (I'll post 26 either tomorrow or the next day.) Chapter 27 isn't terribly long, but I have to rewrite it, so I'm not sure how long it's going to take me to finish. (Fingers crossed for quickness.)
Lissa: I am still taking care of myself the best I can. Thank you <3 And I'm glad to hear the reading/writing is helping you.
I'm definitely okay with people pointing out corrections (as long as they're not bitchy about it--which you aren't, so no worries there). There's nothing worse than finding some mistake years later and wondering how you didn't see it the first 80 times you read that chapter. I'd much rather fix it now.
Give me some time, and I'll ask around and see if I can find someone to Beta for you.
Hope your writing is going well (and I hope this reading tides you over). Much love back <3
Nightstar: Dammit, I've definitely kept you in suspense. (But don't worry, I won't leave you hanging.). I'm glad to hear you're loving the story so much. The enthusiasm keeps me going. Thank you :)
RosePotter01: There's plenty more "story" coming up amongst the smut (and as part of the smut). I'm glad you're enjoying the emotional side of the story as much as the physical. :) Thank you so much for your support and encouragement (and reviews). I really appreciate it <3
DS: I feel like we're making progress with this semi-concern you have for Draco (Next you'll be telling me you're worried about Crooks.) :P I don't know if I can pinpoint Snape's reasons for telling Draco that Hermione loves him, but there might be some clues in the next couple of chapters. I don't think it's ever stated in black in and white terms, but let's say that he's more of a big picture kind of thinker in this one.
Yep, Hermione's next (as you can see) and Snape is back again after that. (Well, technically, they're all back, but he's the POV.)
25—Consonance
“We've only just begun.”—Carpenters
(Hermione) 
Hermione rocked her hips into Draco, rubbing her overeager clit against the stiff swelling of his erection. It would be better naked, but the flap of his placket was being rather helpful. Dry humping on her couch wasn’t exactly what she’d had planned for the day, but all in all she couldn’t complain.
Draco wasn’t complaining either—but he might when he got a look at his hair. It was fluffed up like a duck’s bum at the back where his head had been rubbing against the arm of the couch for the past hour. Despite his disheveled appearance, she’d never seen him happier.
They’d been snogging since Snape left that morning, wrapped around each other on the couch like two lovebirds, and he’d kept her snugly cocooned in his arms all through lunch. And then dinner. The man was an affection junkie. But to be fair, she was enabling him, supplying him with enough cuddles to give them both a fix. There was a sense of peace with Draco, a calm that pervaded even their most passionate encounters. She felt safe with him. Perhaps that was due to their preexisting friendship, but she had a niggling suspicion that it was something more. Some people just made her feel a certain way when she was with them, whether it was calm or excited or clever or tired. Draco made her feel a great many things, but under it all was a current of contentment.
She wasn’t sure yet what Lucius and Severus made her feel. Wet, certainly, but there was more to it than that. Oddly, she felt safe with all of them despite their controversial pasts. She could logic out her trust in Snape—he’d proven himself an honorable man over the years—but Lucius was almost a stranger to her. And yet she felt she knew him in ways others didn’t. She understood him. He wasn’t all haughty sneers and supercilious mannerisms.
Just like Snape wasn’t all snide comments and billowing black robes. There was a tempest of intrigue howling just below his cool façade. He was constantly analyzing and observing, piecing her together like a jigsaw puzzle. She knew he must have been invading her mind to have pinpointed her desires with such accuracy, but she couldn’t deny how marvelous it had been having someone give her exactly what she wanted. He seemed to genuinely share her sexual tastes, and she found his easy acceptance of her kinks reassuring. 
Plus the man had the dexterity of an artist and concert pianist rolled into one. Her own fingers had never been so deliciously insistent. He’d managed to work her arse up to two thick digits by the end of the night, and when he had her bum at its breaking point, he’d slipped his cock up her cunt and gotten her to make sounds she didn’t know humans were capable of producing. She’d come three times in half an hour, and Snape had clearly been amused by her raging arousal; or at least she assumed that’s what had inspired his jovial mood. She’d never heard him chuckle for such an extended stretch. It was heartening to know she’d exposed him to some fun—even if he denied its existence in his life.
And she’d spotted that smirk on his face at breakfast too, so she’d brightened his spirits whether he wanted to admit it or not. Although, he might have just been laughing at her. She had been moaning pretty loudly. But how was she supposed to eat quietly with Draco licking the sting out of her belt marks? Bent-over breakfast was far more satisfying than the common sit-down she usually had.
Draco—darling, sweet Draco. She couldn't stop replaying his confession in her mind. He really wanted her. It wasn’t just the sex. She’d been too afraid to believe there could be something more between them, but now that he’d made his intentions clear, she’d done a complete one eighty, embracing all his subtle displays of affection and returning them with heartwarming vigor.
Their giddy back and forth that day had shifted Draco’s attitude in the most unexpected ways. By the time breakfast was over, he seemed completely at ease. She’d been expecting at least a modicum of tension from him after the upheaval of that morning’s revelation, but instead, the catharsis of confession seemed to have set him free. And she felt it too. There was a thread of understanding stitching them together. He wanted her, and she wanted him. It couldn’t have been more simple.
And yet so complex.
While she felt closer to Draco than ever before, it hadn’t diminished her attraction to Severus or Lucius; and she found that both interesting and disturbing. Didn’t she want to be happy with Draco? She knew she did. Seeing him so caught up in the joy of shared devotion made her heart sing. It filled up a hole in her chest she hadn’t realized was empty.
What more did she need?
Apparently the answer was Snape and Lucius, because she was feeling some extraordinarily similar things for both of them. She wanted to see Severus smile again; she wanted to share and discuss and roll around in his thoughts. There was so much she hoped to discover about her formerly laconic professor. And Lucius . . . he had only recently begun to open up. He had so much to give, so much care and passion just idling behind a thin veneer of haughty control. She loved bringing out his softer side and seeing that million watt smile steal the sneer from his lips.
And she loved acting as the catalyst in that Slytherin medley. She wanted to be the cause of Snape’s laughter and pleasure, and she longed for those moments of blissful honesty that cropped up between her and Lucius.
And Draco—that boy would be her undoing. When she thought back on all the animosity of their school days and the difficulties they’d overcome to wind up where they were, all she could think about was how far Draco had come, how much he had changed. How much he wanted to be loved. If she dwelt on it for too long, tears would sting the backs of her eyes, and she’d have to blink like a maniac to stave them off. He was living proof that so much of a man lay beneath the surface. Five years earlier she never would have guessed he possessed such depth. Now here she was, locked against him, heart to heart, snogging him for all she was worth. And it was glorious.
Carding her fingers through his hair, she stroked his head, hoping to draw another needy whine from his sinfully sweet mouth. Draco’s demonstrative sound effects were the most perfect soundtrack for a day of snogging.
Tap tap tap.
What was that noise?
Tap tap tap tap tap.
Hermione lifted her lips from Draco’s and gave him a curious look. Did he hear that or was her brain rapping on her skull for more oxygen?
Draco’s pink lips were swollen, and his eyes, usually so light and calm, were dark with desire. But his expression was just as perplexed as her own. “Was that Crookshanks?” he panted.
Hermione turned her head and looked around. Crooks didn’t tap; he did the opposite, padding around the flat on silent paws.
Taptaptaptaptap.
Ah-ha! She recognized the sound now that Draco had stopped whimpering. “It’s an owl. Hold on.”
She pecked his lips and peeled her body from his then stumbled to the door on snog-wobbly legs. When she pulled it open, a handsome eagle owl peered up at her and then hopped over the threshold.
“Wolfgang?” Draco sputtered, sitting up with a start. He winced and adjusted his bulging crotch. “What are you doing here? That’s Father’s business owl.”
The bird spread its wings and relocated to the arm of the couch, holding out one leg to Hermione.
She gave Draco a searching look before taking the scroll from the bird’s outstretched talon. Scanning the note quickly, she read out loud: “Dear Hermione, Severus is here, and we both think it would be prudent to sit down for a chat. We’ll have drinks in the library at 8:00. I know Draco is there with you, so tell him to take you to dinner and then bring you here. I look forward to seeing you again—and the library misses you. Until tonight, Lucius.”
Draco shook his head and clucked his tongue in a tsk of reproach. “Mmmmmmm, you’re in trooooouble.”
Hermione widened her eyes at him in disbelief. “What?”
His swollen lips curled into a small smile. “Severus told him everything. He knows you’ve been seeing all of us, and he knows I told you I want to date you. He has to recalibrate, plan a new mode of attack, step up his game.”
“Are you serious?” Being a Slytherin sounded exhausting. “How does that make me in trouble?”
“Target acquired,” he replied with a grin. “If he isn’t angry enough to stop seeing you—which it appears he isn’t—then you’re about to become the focus of his most assiduous efforts. If there’s one thing the Malfoy men are known for, it’s going after what they want.”
“Should I decline?” She didn’t know if it was a good idea to throw them all into the same room if Mr. Malfoy was on the romance warpath. Maybe they should postpone any meetings until everyone had had time to cool off.
“Oh, we definitely need to go,” Draco said, pushing a quill across the table to her. “I can’t wait to see his smug face when we show up hand in hand.”
Hermione smirked and shook her head. “That’s a bit cold, don’t you think? I don’t want to hurt anyone with all this.”
“No, no, no,” Draco continued, his smile never faltering. “You wouldn’t understand. It’s a wizard thing. I just need to show him that I’m not out of the running. He’ll finally have to admit I succeeded in at least one area.”
Hermione rolled her eyes and muttered, “Boys” under her breath, but she picked up the quill and penned a quick “We’ll be there.” at the bottom of the parchment and passed it back to Wolfgang.
The owl spread its wings, and Hermione rushed to open the door. With a distinguished “hoo” of farewell, the bird disappeared into the setting sun.
Hermione closed the door and looked back at Draco. “That only gives us a little over an hour. Do you want to help me get ready? I have to do my hair and makeup if I want to look nice.”
“Will you be naked?”
She snickered. “Sure. Are you going to keep me company?”
“But of course, my lady. I’ll even help you prepare.”
That was generous of him. Or suspicious. Hermione studied his face, searching for a clue as to which. “How?”
His smile stretched to a leer, and with a tilt of his head, he motioned for her to come closer.
Sputtering out a giggle at the playful light in his eyes, Hermione took several confident steps forward until she was knee to knee with him, daring him to make a move.
Draco leaned forward and rested a hand on each of her hips. When he pulled her in, she had a flashback of Severus doing the same thing; but Draco had none of Snape’s forcefulness or demand. Draco was all smooth strokes and slow maneuvering. Steady. Calm. His hands flowed down her flanks, drawing her pajamas to the floor in a whisper of cotton.
In spite of the sudden draft, a heated tide washed over her body, and she knew she was blushing. Listing toward him, Hermione snaked one arm around Draco’s shoulders and hugged him to her chest. Draco growled and pressed his mouth into the valley between her breasts; his warm breath seeped through her T-shirt, and her nipples sprang into action as if they’d been dipped in ice water.
His hands crept under her top, and his palms drifted softly up her sides. Twisting his head to the right, he kissed a hungry path to her nipple, inching toward it with a sexual stealth that stole her breath away. The physical anticipation was unbearable, but the heady rush of having him in her arms was even more maddening. Raking her fingers through his hair, she reveled in the sublime silkiness that was Draco Malfoy. There wasn’t a single part of him that wasn’t a textural dream. His mouth was all steamed velvet, and his tongue was slick as satin. The pale skin stretched over his lean frame was softer than her own. And his cock—unh! Every time she uncovered that lustrous staff, she had the urge to rub his petal-soft glans all over her face like a blush brush.
Leaving her thin cotton tee to act as an infuriating barrier between them, Draco wrapped his lips around her nipple and sucked her into his mouth. Hermione gasped and arched into him, hissing as his teeth caught the tip. Pausing just long enough to lift her shirt, Draco swiftly uncovered her tits and switched sides. The sharp edges of his incisors framed her areola and provided a sensorial juxtaposition to the wet cradle of his tongue. He swirled around the stiff protrusion, teasing its perimeter before swiping over the peak.
“Draco!” She clutched at his shoulders. Standing wasn't sensible if he was going to do things like that.
He chuckled and flashed her a furtive smile. “Arms up.”
Arms up? It took several seconds for her brain to process the meaning of those words. Lifting her hands in the air, she looked to him for further advice.
Draco stood, and as he did so, he pulled her top over her head, leaving her stark naked in the living room. She shivered, and a swath of gooseflesh tattooed her flesh.
“There,” he declared cheekily. “You’re ready to go.”
Hermione grabbed him by the belt and yanked him forward.
Snickering, Draco hugged her and leaned down to look in her eyes. “Did you like that?”
“You’re very helpful,” she replied wryly.
“Draco Malfoy, professional undresser at your service,” he murmured with a roguish grin.
She shook her head, a chagrined smile skipping over her lips. Surely he could smell how wet his little game had gotten her; Hermione clamped her thighs together to staunch the scent. Was this her life now, just constantly marinating in her own juices? That wasn’t all bad, but it was a bit embarrassing to realize she had the hair-trigger arousal of a fourteen-year-old boy. Grabbing his hand, she tugged him toward the bathroom and gave his trousers a quick glance to make sure he was equally affected.
He was.
She liked that about Draco; his ceaseless excitement made her feel less self-conscious about her own libido.
In the bathroom, Hermione gestured for Draco to take a seat as she began to set out her things. Draco made himself comfortable on the floor, sprawling out with his arms spanning the lip of the tub like an emperor in a bathhouse. Crookshanks wandered in and stretched out next to him, purring loudly when Draco scratched his head. Hermione smiled at the cozy tableau they presented in the mirror’s reflection.
Draco idly chatted with her as she applied her make up and twisted her hair into a nice chignon. She was grateful for his company; if he hadn’t been there, she would have been psyching herself out, worrying about what might be said at their little get together.
Inspecting her smoky eye shadow, Hermione assessed her appearance. She didn’t usually go to so much trouble, but this was one instance where she definitely didn't want to look like one of the guys. Appearances could be distracting, and she needed all the extra leverage she could get if she was going to go toe to toe with Lucius and Severus.
After pinning her hair into place, she turned to Draco. “Which do men prefer, lipstick or gloss?”
“That depends on what you’re wearing.”
“My little black dress.”
“In that case, red lipstick.”
“Red? Don’t you think that’s a bit too . . . slattern?”
Draco grinned and shook his head. “I guarantee you they’ll both be dying to smear it in the most lascivious manner possible.”
Hermione snorted and picked up her tube of Crimson Consort. “Well best of luck to them. It’s Weekend Witch’s Twelve Hour Staying Power formula, and I can’t even scrub it off with a flannel.”
He watched her closely as she applied it, and she saw him adjusting himself in the mirror’s reflection. That was just the confidence boost she needed. 
When her lips were a shiny dark red, she stood back to gauge her clownishness. “How’s that?”
“I want to stick my cock in your mouth.”
Hermione snorted. “I have to let it set for a minute. Let’s go find my clothes.” 
“Do we have to?” he asked, heaving himself of the floor and following after her. “I'm sure you won't need them.”
Hermione went to her dresser, where she perused her selection of underwear. Draco sidled up behind her and slipped his hands around her waist, pulling her back against his bulge. The heat of his erection had baked his crotch so it felt as if his trousers had just come out of the dryer. He worked his length between her bare cheeks and lightly buffed the crack of her arse.
Hermione smiled and tipped back her head to rest under his chin. “What do you think, suspender belt again?”
“Father likes it.”
“What about you?”
He hummed indecisively and ducked down to lick behind her ear. “I like you naked.”
“Naked is not an option.” She giggled as his tongue caressed the nape of her neck. “What do you think Snape likes?”
“I have no idea. Bruised bums and black lace?”
“I’ve got both of those covered. What do you think of seams?” she asked, picking out a pair of nude seamed stockings.
“Sexy.” He sealed his mouth to the juncture of her neck and shoulder and swirled his tongue over her skin.
“Stooooop,” she groaned with a playful swat to the top of his head. “You’re making my pussy leak all over my legs.”
“Good.” His grunted reply breezed over the damp path he’d left at her throat. Hermione’s knees went soggy, and she had to clutch the dresser to stay vertical
“I’m wet enough as it is.” She waved toward the wardrobe. “Would you get my shoes for me?” Gods, she needed to keep him distracted or they’d never make it there on time.
“Which ones?”
“The black heels. I only have one pair.”
With a lingering brush of his fingertips, he released her and headed toward the wardrobe. Draco got down on the floor and searched the shadowy depths while Hermione wiggled into her garter belt. She sat on the bed to roll on her stockings, and when Draco found her shoes, he crawled over with her pumps between his teeth and set them at her feet like a puppy with a pair of slippers.
Laughing, Hermione spread her legs and gave him a x-rated sneak peek, and with a mutinous growl, he lunged forward, diving in tongue-first.
Hermione squealed and held him back with one hand to the top of the head. “Whoa! Hold your horses. I need the loo first. My bladder’s about to burst. And I’d better charm my arse clean while I’m in there, because Merlin only knows what Snape might do to me later.”
Draco stuck out his lower lip and gave her sad puppy eyes with a pleading whimper to match.
Hermione bent down to kiss nose. “But I was thinking when I come back, maybe you could test my pussy to make sure it’s ready to go. Would you like that?”
His gaze lit with a ravenous light, and he nodded forcefully.
“But before I do that, I need you to check my seams for me,” she said, rising smoothly and turning her back to him so her bum bumped his lips. “Are they straight?”
A whine of appreciation echoed against her right cheek, and she felt the nip of his teeth sinking into her rump. Muffy began to overflow, and the slippery tickle of fresh juice slid past her labia. Locking her jaw and hissing softly, Hermione reached back to stop him. “Be good. We have to leave soon.”
A gentle kiss soothed the tingling bite mark, and Draco wrapped his hands around her left ankle. “You look absolutely delicious tonight, miss,” he murmured, straightening her stockings as he climbed her calf.
Hermione mashed her lips together to keep from laughing. Miss? So that was what he wanted to play. “Thank you, Draco.” She wracked her brain to come up with something appropriate for the situation, but couldn’t think straight with his fingers wandering up her inner thigh.
He started on the other leg, and Hermione shifted her weight to the opposite foot before peeking over her shoulder. He was staring at her bum like a bird dog tracking a quail, his eyes only darting down to check the alignment of her seams. The devoted longing in his gaze melted her heart as much as her pussy.
“How’s it look?” she asked quietly.
His eyes shot up to hers, and he grinned mischievously. “Perfect.”
“Thank you, love. I want you to wait right here for me. I’ll be back in just a minute.” She lowered her voice to a husky whisper. “Take out your cock and start stroking. Slowly. I want to see you teasing yourself when I get back.”
His eyes went wide, and she could see she’d surprised him. A momentary flare of panic left her wondering when he would start laughing at her false bravado.
Her panic was instantaneously snuffed out when he ripped open his flies and groaned out a breathy, “Yes, miss.”
His prick was stiff and red, almost visibly throbbing. Hermione swallowed hard and licked her lips. Damn. How had her own game circled back and bit her in the clit? Having Draco kneeling at her feet with his hand gliding up and down his length, looking like a exclusive centerfold for Bad Boys and Big Brooms, was like living out her most naughty dreams. Here was one of the hottest men she knew, a wizard who could have almost any witch he desired, and he wanted nothing more than to have her command his wanking schedule with the authority of a sexual drill sergeant.
It thrilled her to see him so responsive. She’d never considered herself a dominant woman in bed, but since their foray into FemDom, she’d found her fantasies wading into increasingly assertive waters. It was a rush to see the desire take hold and melt Draco into a puddle of happy abandon.
And she knew that freedom he felt. She’d swum in its comforting waters only the night before, giving Snape her humiliation and shame in exchange for assurance and praise.
For understanding.
“Don’t you dare come without me.”
He smiled. “Yes, miss.”
Snagging her bra on the way out the door, she hurried to the bathroom, eager to finish getting ready and return for another helping of Draco.
After emptying her bladder, she cast the enema charm on herself. Its minty slipstream didn’t surprise her that time, but in her hyper-aroused state, she almost came all over the bathmat as the magic jettisoned through her bowels.
Bloody hell. Snape and Lucius were going to smell her arrival from a mile away.
Or I could just have Draco clean me up with his tongue before we go. She grinned at the mirror and quickly strapped herself into her bra. Draco wouldn’t like that she was covering up the girls, but she had to get things moving; if it were up to him, she’d show up at the manor without a stitch. And while she wasn’t totally against that idea, she didn’t think jumping in with both boobs blazing was the right tactic to take when she didn’t know what kind of mood Lucius would be in.
Dashing back to her room, she found Draco just as she’d left him, his trousers open, weeping cock in his fist. His grey eyes met hers, and she smiled at the intensity in his gaze. “Good boy.”
His stroking sped up.
“Look how hard you are,” she purred.
“I need you, miss.”
His solemn plea tugged at her heartstrings. Running her hand over his hair , Hermione gently tipped back his head and pecked his lips. “Do you think you can get me nice and wet for our date?”
“Yes, miss,” he whispered.
Hermione sat on the edge of the bed and let one leg fall to the side, drawing his attention south. His eyes dropped to the apex of her thighs, and with a rough grunt, he grasped his glans, locking it in a death grip to hold back his release. Draco certainly knew how to compliment a girl. 
“Lick me, love. Show me what you’ve got.”
In a bolt of blond, he was on her, his pretty face burrowing into her bush, his hands spreading her thighs, baring her in all her knickerless glory. His tongue lapped at her clit and then swiped up her slit with the agility of a sexual serpent. He groaned loudly, and the sound echoed through her pelvis.
“Yes,” she hissed, gripping a hank of his silky hair in her clenched fingers. “Right there.”
The firmer she tugged, the louder his growls. She didn’t want to hurt him, but he really seemed to get off on the manhandling. Leaning back on one elbow, she gave him more access, pulling up her knees for maximum exposure.
He took full advantage.
Hermione cried out as his tongue shot up her twat—a bizarrely soft invasion of slick muscle and rigid demand. He was intent on scooping out her honey at the source, gorging on her canal like a diabetic grizzly ferreting out the last drips of sugar from a honeycomb. No one should have a tongue that dexterous.
Sucking her labia with an audible slurp, Draco slid up and down her slit, pulling at her entire vulva until the blood rushed to her lower lips with a tingling warmth. His mouth sealed over her clit, and she almost arched off the bed as he drew a throb of pulsation from the little nubbin.
“Ahhh!”
He glanced up at her, the corners of his eyes lifting in what was surely a wolfish smile. She couldn’t be sure with his mouth hidden in her muff.
Hermione rocked her hips toward his face. “Make me come, love.”
With a rumbly growl of agreement, he reapplied himself to her pleasure, focusing on the fleshy hood of her clitoris with flickery determination.
Two slender fingers sneaked into her leaking sheath, and Hermione whimpered at the added stimulation. His fingertips curled against her g-spot and beckoned her orgasm closer.
“Oh gods,” she whispered, her teeth sinking into her lower lip to keep from wailing. “Gonna come. Don’t stop.”
Draco whined into her folds, and for some reason that relaxed her beyond reason. Her pussy took its cue and exploded in a convulsion of release, wracking her belly with waves of bliss and shooting what felt like a pint of juice from her oversaturated core.
Draco gradually slowed his ministrations to a peaceful stop and kissed her clit as if to reassure it it had done a good job. When he leaned back, his chin was streaked with her nectar, and a thin line of cream lined his upper lip. His tongue snaked out to lick it away, and Hermione almost collapsed on the bed, knocked out by the sublimely erotic image of him devouring her desire with his pink tongue.
“Are you ready to come for me?” Hermione murmured, blinking slowly as her brain came back on board.
He nodded tightly and glanced down at his lap.
Hermione sat up and saw that his erection hadn’t abated in the slightest. It was red and stiff, practically glowing with pent up frustration. She was struck by a brilliant idea, and when he saw her sneaky smile, his lips curved into a matching grin.
“What?” he asked.
“I was just thinking,” she said, tipping her head to one side with a ingenuous innocence, “that since you’re wearing my . . . scent, it would only be polite for me to wear yours in return.”
Draco was on his feet and wanking in the blink of an eye. “Make sure you stand close enough to father so he can smell it. Gods, you’re bloody brilliant.”
Hermione stared at the gleaming tip of his glans, hypnotized by its promising shine. Sooooo pretty. The angry heat of his engorged head could be felt at a distance, and she had the urge to warm herself in front of it like a bluebell flame.
Holding up her breasts in both hands, she gave him a backsplash she knew he'd appreciate. Draco groaned and stepped closer, grazing the tops of her tits with the damp drip of his meatus. Hermione was on the verge of swooning, her skin prickling with feverish expectancy. What the hell was happening to her? Before her involvement with the three Slytherins, she’d never once longed for the viscous reward of a semen shower. She used to vanish all slimy leftovers as soon as humanly possible—but now she couldn’t get enough. Was it because she actually enjoyed being with them? Did that render their jizz innocuous? Or was it their ardent desire that changed her mentality from one of obligation to delight?
She didn’t know, and at the moment, she didn’t care. She wanted that cum.
Peering up at Draco from beneath her lashes, Hermione surreptitiously watched the taut concentration play over his features. His eyes were fastened on her chest, his mouth parted in slack awe. Peeling down the cups of her bra with the tips of her fingers, Hermione uncovered her pebbled nipples for his viewing pleasure. “Come all over me, Draco. Make me yours.”
His breathing stuttered out in a jagged exhale, and with no warning, the first creamy streamer drifted across her breast.
“Fuck!” Draco gasped in the momentary pause between surges.
Hermione looked down as a second ribbon crossed the first and dripped down the crevice she’d created with her cleavage. She inhaled deeply, breathing him in, and with the expansion of her chest, she maintained firm contact between her skin and his.
“Fuckfuckfuck!” he hissed through his teeth.
Hermione smiled as the last three milky gushes spilled over her pert nipple, glazing her in his relief.  
Draco let out a final deep breath and swallowed hard. “Bloody hell, Hermione. Remind me to never hold it in for an entire day ever again. That was painful.”
“But look how much you made for me,” she said cheerfully and gestured at the ample results.
With a tired snicker, Draco nodded. “Yes, I see. Were we going for coverage?”
Hermione smeared his seed into her chest with a happy affirmative, “Most certainly. I want it to last.”
Draco bent down to kiss her forehead, his warm lips on her hairline. “That’s another thing I like about you—you’re very economical.”
Hermione laughed and pecked his lips. “And I smell bloody amazing. No need for perfume.”
Chuckling under his breath, Draco glanced at the clock on her bedside table. “It’s ten till.”
Damn. Her semen massage would have to be cut short. Hermione rubbed the remaining cream into her skin and then sniffed her hands. She smelled like a laundry hamper in a boy’s dormitory. But she also smelled like Draco, his presence lingering, providing a protective coating for her heart.
When Draco went to tuck away his cock, she stopped him and did it herself. He was like wrinkled satin in her hand, his prick having sunk to half mast in the aftermath of their “ablutions.” After she zipped him up, she kissed his placket and whispered, “See you later.”
smiling, Draco gave her his hand and escorted from the bed to the bureau, where he got her dress for her and then helped her into it. Hermione had never had any assistance in such matters, but she found his service invaluable. As he did up her zip, his lips touched her neck, and the confirmation of his adoration wrapped her in a warm glow of contentment.
Grazing his cheek with the backs of her fingers, she silently thanked him for the care. He grinned and caught her hand in his, lifting it to his mouth.
“We should go,” she murmured, pressing her body to his. 
“Don’t want to be late,” he agreed. “I know how much you enjoy punctuality.”
Hermione rolled up onto her toes to give him one more kiss. “You know me too well.”
They both said a quick farewell to Crookshanks as they headed to the front door, and once they were out in the street, Draco’s arm around her shoulders, Hermione felt the first stirrings of apprehension growing in her gut.
What on earth was she supposed to say once she had them all together? It had been hard enough explaining things to Draco that morning. She didn’t know if she could go through that again.
Creeping into the nearest alleyway, Draco offered to Apparate them both, and Hermione jumped at the chance. Apparition was so much more pleasant with a cock wedged against her belly. When he told her to hold on tight, she grabbed his arse and gave him an expectant smile. Draco’s snickering was cut short by the pressurized pop of relocation.
They reappeared outside the manor’s lavish gate, and Draco called out the password, weaving his fingers between hers and squeezing her hand reassuringly. Hermione leaned into him to absorb some of his calm as they made their way along the curving drive. The dull click of her heels on the cobblestone sounded like a ticking bomb to her anxious ears. What if Lucius wasn’t as easygoing as Severus?
Did I really just think that? She never thought she’d be labeling Snape as easygoing—but he was rather accepting for such a saturnine man. Although, that acceptance seemed to be limited to her predilections. The cynical snark evinced throughout his teaching career was still intact. She wished she could bring out the chuckly-sex-Snape that she’d met the night before and integrate him into the other areas of his life. He seemed so much more happy when he was naked.
Maybe she should try giving him a bit more affection, the way she did with Draco. The two were as different as night and day when it came to cuddling, but she’d noticed how quiet Snape been when her attentions became tender. He didn’t flinch or pull away, but he’d freeze as if he didn’t quite know how to proceed. When he’d announced his imminent departure that morning, Hermione had thrown her arms around his waist and hugged him goodbye; his arms had remained limp at his sides, and then, just as she released him, he patted her back with a stilted awkwardness. Hermione didn’t take it personally; she’d obviously caught him off guard. And once she gave it some thought, she realized he probably wasn't used to people hugging him goodbye. Or at all.
A pat on the back was probably more than she should have expected.
And she was definitely delusional for hoping he might kiss her. While he’d been perfectly respectful and, dare she say it, kind, he’d made no move to lock lips during their night together. Hermione didn’t know if he was averse to snogging or if he just thought she wasn’t up for it. Although how could a Legillimens not know she wanted it? That didn’t seem probable. And it couldn’t be that he didn’t fancy a good snog—she distinctly remembered the way he’d sucked the air out Lucius’s lungs that first night in the library. It didn’t seem wise to point out his kissing contradiction; she didn’t want to try his patience or make him uncomfortable.
Especially not after that brain-melting talk they’d had the night before, the post-coital aftermath freeing their tongues and opening their minds until her issue of Potion-Maker’s Monthly had been eviscerated by his cutting critique and her Socratic perambulations.
She’d fallen asleep to the sound of his groggy baritone voice espousing the virtues of platinum cauldrons and wondering if the apothecary still had those beetle wings on sale. Accordingly, her dreams had followed suit, weaving together her favorite Potions master with an increasingly erotic series of vignettes involving some extremely naughty brewing. Laboratory spankings sounded so much more sane in her dreams.
She couldn’t give up all that because of a simple lack of kissing.
Besides, Draco and Lucius kept her lips plenty busy—she should start focusing on what she had rather than what was missing.
Hermione smiled at Draco as he opened the front door and led her inside. They’d made it to the house without the plaintive cries of the peacocks to set her on edge, which was a blessing, because she was already on the verge of jumping out of her skin.
Draco took the direct route to the library, following the main corridors rather than taking the shortcut through the rooms to enter through the side door. She considered suggesting the more clandestine approach, but she knew that was just her nerves talking.
Draco must have sensed no need for such cunning. He opened the door and led her in without pretense. Mr. Malfoy was pouring drinks by the little table near the window, and Severus was sitting on the couch, drink already in hand. They both looked up as Hermione and Draco entered the room, and Lucius actually smiled at her.
“Miss Granger,” he said as he finished pouring his glass of champagne. “Right on time.”
Hermione was shocked they both looked so damn relaxed. Lucius didn’t seem upset at all, his eyes only stalling briefly on their joined hands. Had she been worried for nothing?
With an infinitesimal tip of his head, Severus motioned for her to come to him.
Hermione looked up at Draco to make sure he was all right, but she needn’t have worried. 
He grinned at her and whispered, “You’d better get moving, young lady. I know you don’t want another spanking with all those welts on your arse.”
Her cheeks went hot, but she couldn’t help smiling. When she lifted up on her tiptoes she could just reach his chin, but he bent down and met her lips with a peck—possibly for luck.
Knees wobbling, she made her way to Snape’s side, and Draco slid into the chair that sat at a right angle to the sofa, its green leather the perfect choice for a Slytherin library. She was relieved he was staying so close. It wasn’t that she was scared of Snape, it was just that the night was brimming with uncertainty, and she had no idea what might come next. Draco was a good man to have in her corner.
“Lift you skirt,” Severus drawled.
Hermione clamped her legs together to keep her pussy from dripping down her leg. “What? Right now?”
“I want Lucius to see your arse. Lift your skirt to your waist.”
She glanced over her shoulder at Draco, but he just flashed her a snakey smile.
“Are you hesitating?” Severus asked in a low voice.
“No, sir,” she assured him and drew up her skirt as fast as she could.
The room felt far too drafty with that much skin on display. Everyone was staring, eyeballing her naked mound and smirking as if amused by her lack of knickers. And Draco must have had a damn good view of her arse. All he had to do was lean to the left.
Snape’s black eyes were focused on the vee of curls between her legs, and she knew he could see how wet Draco had left her.
“Turn around,” Severus muttered. “Show Lucius your marks.”
Hermione spun around to escape his knowing gaze, but mid-spin she felt the telltale tickle of juicy spillage leaking from her labia. Shifting nervously from heel to heel, she wondered how Muffy had gotten so worked up in such a short amount of time. Draco had licked her clean back at the flat, but she was already swimming in her own lubrication.
Lucius set a glass of champagne on the table for her and took his usual seat to her right. “Oh, this is lovely, Severus.”
She felt his hand on her arse, his smooth fingers gliding over the banded lines traversing her cheeks.
“I don’t know if I like her better marked or unmarked. This does look nice with the stockings though, doesn't it?”
“Yes,” Severus murmured, patting her other cheek. “Bend over so he can see everything.”
Swallowing hard, Hermione slowly leaned forward and braced her hands on the coffee table.
“Legs apart,” Severus chided. “You know better than that.”
Well I was trying to keep the carpet dry . . . but if you insist.
"Merlin's beard,” Lucius muttered. “Look at that pussy.”
Severus slid his hand between her thighs and brushed a finger over her furrow. After their night together, she’d recognize that finger anywhere. The edges of his joints were calloused from working in the lab, and he touched her with a possessiveness that was unique amongst those gathered.
“Why are your thighs all wet, Miss Granger?”
Her eyes shot over to Draco, who was still sporting that same diabolical grin. Shit. Should she tell the truth? Would that piss off Lucius? Or would Snape be more pissed off if she lied? “Uh . . . because Draco made me come before we left my flat.”
“What a gentleman,” Snape commented dryly. “How did he make you come?”
“He licked me, sir.”
Severus wiggled his finger over her clit, and she arched her back for more.
“All right. Sit down. We need to discuss some things.”
Hermione heaved out a shaky sigh and stood up, feeling for the edge of her skirt to pull it back into place.
“No,” Severus growled. “Did I say you could cover yourself?”
“I thought I came here to talk.”
“You can talk with your skirt around your waist. Sit down.”
Mm! Yes, sir! If his voice got any darker, her clit was going to spontaneously combust. She took the spot between them, but as soon as her arse touched down she felt something wriggling into the slick seam of her pussy. Jumping up in shock, she discovered Snape’s hand on her seat, his fingers glistening with her excitement. When she gave him her most exasperated huff, he simply arched one eyebrow and waggled the digits in a suggestive wave.
“I said sit down, Miss Granger. This is your last chance.”
“You could have warned me,” she said in her primmest tone. When she took her seat again, his middle finger slipped between her lips and eased inside. The squirming it elicited did nothing to assuage her rising damp. If anything, it made it worse.
Lucius chuckled and placed a hand on her knee. “That flush creeping down your chest is quite becoming.”
Hermione smiled and looked away. “Thank you, sir.”
Lucius pulled her knee toward him, spreading her legs as if arranging her into a more comfortable position. “I asked you over to discuss our . . . situation. I take it you’ve been seeing all three of us since our last foursome?”
Hermione bit her lips into a tight line and nodded.
His hand began a slow ascent of her thigh. “And what outcome were you hoping to achieve with such an arrangement?” 
Staring at his hand, she whispered, “I honestly don’t know, sir. I . . . I just like spending time with each of you.”
“So you’re not dating Draco?”
“Um . . .” She glanced at Draco. “I’m very close to Draco, and I would like to date him. But if you mean do I want to date him to the exclusion of you and Severus, the answer is no.”
Draco must have found that answer satisfactory. He looked pleased that she’d announced to everyone that she wanted to date him. 
Lucius trailed up to the sensitive skin at the juncture of her leg, his fingers brushing the subtle line separating thigh from pelvis. “So basically, you want to date all of us?”
Oh gods. Was that wrong? It sounded wrong—but oh so right. “I guess you could put it that way.”
“Did you think we wouldn’t find out about one another?”
“No!” She emphatically shook her head. “I didn’t want anyone to get hurt, but I wasn’t trying to sneak around. I just didn’t know how any of you felt about me, so I thought I should wait to see where things went.”
“Do you want to stop sleeping with us as a group?”
“No!”
He smirked. “Is the sex all you want from us?”
She met his grey gaze, searching for a sign that it was safe to admit she wanted more. “No?”
“What do you want?” His index finger drew a slow circle over her plumping pussy lips, tracing her slit with all the pressure of a butterfly’s wings, which made it difficult for her to articulate her desires. 
“I want . . . uuuh . . . I just want you all to be yourselves.”
Lucius nodded as if turning that over in his mind. “Do you want me to be rougher? I can dominate you the way Severus does if that’s what turns you on.”
Snape's fingers curled through her folds, and she almost leapt to the ceiling. Once she caught her breath, she tried to explain, “You do dominate me, you just do it differently than Severus. You turn me on just the way you are. I’d prefer it if you kept doing things the way you’ve been doing them.”
The corner of his mouth curled in a cocky, but relieved, smirk. “So how are we going to handle this? Will we only be allowed to see you on certain nights?”
Hermione couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “You mean . . . you don’t mind me seeing all of you? It doesn’t bother you?”
Lucius gave Severus a measured look, and Hermione knew instantly that Severus had said something, something that had mellowed Malfoy’s jealousy.
Lucius licked his lips and inclined his head in a congenial bow of agreement. “For now it seems to be the most logical plan. I’m used to sharing with Severus, so that’s not a point of contention. I am not, however,  used to sharing with my son, but”—he paused to chose his words—”I don’t wish to put a strain on your friendship. I can live with it.”
Hermione looked over at Severus, but his stoic face betrayed no additional information. Turning back to Lucius, she studied his steely grey eyes. There was a hint of Draco there, but where Draco made her feel waves of calm care, Lucius made her feel as if she belonged wrapped in his arms. The hardness in his eye softened, and she glimpsed a whole new layer—the Lucius beneath the stoney exterior. “What if I wind up feeling more for one of you? I don’t want to hurt anyone.”
Lucius glanced at Severus before answering.
She knew that look. It was the same look Harry gave her when they had to go to a war memorial service or visit someone at St. Mungos: the weight of inevitable pain.
“That’s life,” Lucius said flatly. “Severus and I are both aware of what might happen.”
She didn’t need to ask Draco if he’d be hurt if she fell for Lucius or Snape. He would be. There were so many things that could go wrong. But what if things went right? What if one of them was the perfect man for her and she missed out because she was too scared to try?
“If everybody’s really okay with it, I think we should just keep doing it like we’ve been doing it,” Hermione said carefully, gauging their reactions with a quick visual survey. “If I’m going out with someone else when you want to see me, I’ll tell you and we can pick a different night. Obviously Severus gets priority on the weekends since that's the only time he's free.”
“That sounds fine,” Lucius said, his eyes scanning the group as hers had. “And whenever you want us to all get together like this, you just tell me, and I’ll set it up.”
Hermione nodded. “I can do that. Are you sure it won’t make you all insanely jealous? I’d be mental if this was reversed and I was one of three girls some guy was seeing.”
Lucius smiled softly. “I don’t think you’re using any of us for your own selfish designs.”
Aren’t I?
“You just don’t know what you want yet.”
What if I can’t decide?
“We’ll see what happens.”
Severus pumped his finger into her passage. “Are you ready to make this official? I think you’re about to wet the sofa.”
“Yes,” Lucius agreed, his usual lascivious smile lighting his features. “Let’s toast our new merger properly. I can’t wait to fuck that pretty red mouth of yours.”
It would seem Draco had been right about the lipstick.
Severus leaned in and nipped her ear, his breath hot on her neck. “Why don’t you stand up and take off your dress. I think everyone here would prefer to see you without it.”
She nodded mechanically, too distracted by the multitude of hands and mouths to be embarrassed. Gods, she wanted to get out of her clothes. She was burning up on that damn leather.
Severus sniffed her throat, his aquiline beak running the length of one tendon. “Why do you smell of semen?” he asked with a lilt of amusement. “What the hell did you do before you left the house?”
Hermione looked at Draco, who had already torn off his shoes and socks and was currently ripping open his flies. Knowing her juices were all over his face gave her a rush of proprietorial exhilaration. “Draco came on me, sir.”
Severus smirked. "So I gathered. Did that turn you on?”
“It turns her on,” Lucius answered laughingly, his lips on her temple. “Hasn't she told you her new title?”
Severus quirked an eyebrow in curiosity. “No. What is it?”
“Tell him, princess.”
If they both kept breathing on her neck and whispering all over her ear, she was going to go stark raving mad. “I’m his cum queen.”
Severus chuckled and rested one huge hand on her thigh. “That you are. Are you ready for your coronation, cum queen?”
“Yes, sir.” So ready.
“Then get out of that blasted dress. If you adore cream so much, then I think you’ll have your fill tonight.”
Hermione nodded heartily, her mouth already watering. “Yes, sir!”
She couldn’t get out of her clothes fast enough.
Consonance--Groups of tones that are harmonious when sounded together as in a chord.
"We've Only Just Begun" by Carpenters. Written by Roger Nichols (music) and Paul Williams (lyrics) and released in 1970.
The song was originally written for a bank commercial (which became very popular), and Richard Carpenter (that's the brother of the Carpenters duo) recognized Williams work (they were with he same record company) and asked him one day if there were any more verses to the song. Williams lied and said there were. He and Nichols quickly added another verse and a bridge to complete the song. Carpenter chose the song to be their third single, and the song went on to be an international hit, helping them to win a Grammy for Best New Artist is 1971.
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=__VQX2Xn7tI
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