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Under The Table Assault	By : BirdofFire Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 30410 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I am responsible for all that you have read and enjoyed in... Oh, wait, wrong disclaimer. Ahem. All rights for the creation of the Harry Potter series are property of JK Rowling. I do not make any profit from them or this work of fiction.

Chapter List
- 1-Under The Table Assault
- 1
Under The Table Assault

I

She was going to kill him.

There was no way he was going to emerge from this dinner intact.

Hermione Granger, who was currently in the middle of an otherwise excellent second course, barely managed to keep from strangling the man seated beside her. Blond, insufferable and infamously arrogant, Draco Malfoy flashed her a mischievous grin, before returning to his conversation with the bejewelled matriarch on his other side.

Hermione’s teeth gritted. Reaching under the table, she seized the wandering hand exploring her inner thigh and flung it away. Now lecher-free, she glanced around the table quickly and was relieved when it appeared that no one had noticed. Rather the assorted, numerous guests seated at the long rectangular table were immersed in lively conversation and enjoying the decadent lobster linguine.

The immense dining hall with its ability to seat over a hundred people was sumptuously decorated in violet and periwinkle, the huge crystal chandelier serving as the focal point for the evening’s festivities. The table itself was lit by pillar candles and laden with the most exquisite food.

Having arrived just over an hour ago, Hermione had been having a fantastic time – that was until a certain blond ferret that had been seated next to her had decided that feeling her up was a good idea.

She snuck a glance at Pansy Parkinson who was seated opposite her. The dark-haired Slytherin was happily chatting to her companion, Ginny Weasley, and making goo-goo eyes at her boyfriend of three months, Harry Potter, who was on Hermione’s other side. Pansy had been the one responsible for the seating plan and she was the one Hermione currently blamed.

Unlike unsettled Hermione, Malfoy was characteristically unruffled, charming the large pantaloons off his matronly companion. Hermione could have spat with anger.

“Hermione, dear, I hear you’ve just been promoted.” Warm, motherly tones brought Hermione back from her special place of irritation, their owner beaming at her proudly. Molly Weasley, clad in flattering burgundy dress robes (an early Christmas present from the twins), continued, “Head of your department and at only twenty-eight. We are so proud of you.”

Warmed by Molly’s proud smile, Hermione’s spirits lifted and a matching grin graced her features. “Thank you, Molly.”

“What are you gonna be doing, ‘Mione?” At Ron’s question, Hermione rolled her eyes good-naturedly.

“You know I can’t tell you that, Ron.” Her ginger-haired best friend beamed regardless, chewing away without shame. Despite the fact that she’d been an Unspeakable for almost a decade now, Ron still asked about what she was currently working on – knowing that there was no way she could tell him. It was a tradition of sorts, now, Hermione guessed.

It was just as she was settling back in to enjoy her meal and giggling at Ginny’s hilarious anecdote of a recent date that she felt it. A warm calloused hand traced its way along the skin revealed by the thigh-high slit in her dress, sending tingles through her system. Valiantly trying to ignore it, Hermione continued to chew her mouthful of lobster. She was not going to let him ruin this night for her.

Sadly, Malfoy didn’t seem to give a damn if she ignored him or not. A few moments later, fingers stroked to the sensitive inside of her thigh. Stifling a moan, nipples tightening, she turned to glare at him. Dancing grey eyes were all she got for her trouble, Malfoy’s lips twisted by the most irritating smirk she had ever seen him wear. And considering the fact that she’d had to work with him all day, every day, for the last five years, that was saying something.

The hand crept further up her thigh and she knew she had to put an end to this.

“Malfoy, stop that this instant,” Hermione hissed out of the corner of her mouth, lips still stretched into a smile. There was no way she was going to let the others know just what was going on under their noses.

“Now, Granger, you know you don’t really want me to do that.” Strong tapered fingers curled into the curve of her inner thigh, searing heat into her soft skin. Choking back a moan, she pinched his hand, but it had no effect.

“No, I do not. Stop that right now…” Her words ended on a gasp as said fingers rubbed at the damp crotch of her knickers. Oh, God. She was going to kill him. She was really going to have to. It wasn’t enough that he’d irritated her all day, now she had to put up with this too?

Hermione could have kicked herself for being so aroused. Malfoy was notoriously mule-headed, and now that he could feel for himself how turned on she was, she didn’t have to be told that he wouldn’t stop.

Fiercely digging her nails into the back of his hand, Hermione made a last ditch attempt at stopping this unsolicited groping from going any further. But once again, Malfoy didn’t seem to feel it, for a second later, those treacherous fingertips of his rubbed along the edge of her knickers before slipping quietly inside.

And… Oh, God.

Going straight for the kill, rough fingertips seared their way up her soaking slit. Hermione bit her lip hard enough to draw blood, its salty sweet taste flooding her mouth. Still, no one seemed to have noticed, the other guests continuing their conversations and eating with gusto, and Hermione thanked whoever up there was listening. That would only have made the whole thing even more mortifying.

Her clit was aching, burning, to be touched, but Malfoy only traced it lightly at first. Swearing that she would find somewhere to bury his body, Hermione pinched his thumb, trying to pull his hand away from her. No one had seen them yet, but she wasn’t going to take that chance.

But Malfoy didn’t seem to care if they got caught. Grey eyes boring into the side of head, his thumb rubbed hard over her pulsing nub and a wave of dizziness overwhelmed her. Trembling, eyes blurred, lip throbbing, she tried to look as if she was concentrating on what Pansy was saying, all the while clenching her hand around her own thigh hard enough to bruise.

What if someone sees?

As her clit was rubbed, tweaked, pulled away from her body, Hermione did her best to gasp through only slightly parted lips, sure that her heaving chest was betraying her. For his part, Malfoy didn’t appear unaffected. She glanced at him now to see him eyeing her with an undeniable hunger, his pupils so dilated that his pewter eyes were almost black.

“Stop.” She had to beg one last time, her voice coming out as a whimper. The glow of the chandelier reflected in his eyes, Malfoy shook his head slightly, mouth thinned into a tight white line.

So close now, heart racing, to keep from arching into Malfoy’s tormenting touch, Hermione slapped her hand against the table in an attempt to transfer some of the unbearable tension winding her tighter than a clock.

And… fuck… Blaise Zabini looked over from the other side of the table. His gaze landed on her and Hermione hoped, prayed, that he wouldn’t – but Lady Luck hadn’t been on her side all night, and this was no exception. Her flushed face and the position of Malfoy’s hand was all he needed, and when Blaise raised a dark brow, eyes seeming to grow heated, Hermione’s thighs clenched as everything in her prepared for –

No!

Ignoring the surprise on many of the other guests’ faces, Hermione leapt from her seat and hurried out of the dining hall, heart pounding against her ribs. Still panting, her body protesting the denial of its imminent release, Hermione practically ran across the reception room.

Behind her, footsteps sounded and she whirled around to see Malfoy only a few steps behind her. Clad in a black Muggle tuxedo, his platinum hair reflecting the candlelight, his clenched jaw told a story all its own.

Not even bothering to check if there was anyone behind him, Hermione grabbed his hand and pulled him into the nearest room. She slammed the door and pushed him onto a cushy sofa.

“Granger,” Malfoy drawled, his tightened smirk revealing his aroused state. “I didn’t know you –”

“Shut up, Malfoy.” And she made him, her lips descending on his and kissing that irrepressible smirk from his mouth. Tasting of a hint of champagne, his mouth was as addictive and moreish as the meal they’d just eaten. He gave even better than he got, devouring her mouth with a heat that burned all the way to her bones.

Without thinking, she pushed the skirt of her dress up past her thighs, unbuckled the belt of his trousers and revealed what she wanted.

She sank onto his large, dripping cock, the rich sense of fullness tearing a moan from her throat. Her body screamed for more, the departure from the dining room not having dulled her arousal one bit.

“Fuck, that’s good, Hermione.” Malfoy flung his head back against the sofa, sweat glistening on his skin. Hermione was past talking, instead using his shoulders as leverage to ride him up and down.

Up and down.

Her hair tickled her back, sticking to his damp chest. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, inhaling the most delicious scent of sandalwood and smoke. Their collective moans and groans hit the rafters as they strained against one other, fucking their way to a shared climax.

Her thighs burned, her clit scraped almost painfully against his wiry pubic hair, his hands gripped her thighs so hard that she knew she’d have marks there the next day. And still they continued, mouths now parted against one another’s as they breathed each other’s air. It was hot, it was sweaty, it was filthy and passionate and rough.

And she’d never loved anything more.

“That’s it, Hermione.” Malfoy sounded almost mindless. She could sympathise. “Fuck me. Merlin, that’s so good. Fuck that pussy at me.” Hermione’s already sorely abused heart sped up at his words. It was almost like he wanted her to come before him – not that he’d have to worry about that. It was a certainty at that point.

“Merlin, you’re so tight, so wet,” he moaned, fingernails digging painfully into her sweaty skin. “I’d crawl in here and die. Fuck.” With that, he reached down and pulled hard at her clit.

And that was it.

Arching, mouth parted in a silent scream, body feeling as if it was being torn apart, Hermione finally came. And came. And came.

His cock gripped in the tight wet heat of her pussy, Malfoy groaned his release as Hermione’s pussy milked him.

The room was silent. The dining hall and the eighty odd people it contained seemed a hundred miles away. It took a while for their breathing to slow, and when it finally did, Hermione looked up from where she’d been half-asleep in the crook of Draco’s sweaty shoulder. Dark eyes ringed by pewter stared back at her, a satiated smile twisting Draco’s handsome features.

“I can’t believe you did that.” She smacked him on the arm, wishing she had enough energy left to put some strength into it. He laughed in that annoyingly heart-lifting way of his.

“I had to get you to talk to me somehow,” he answered, eyes now twinkling (something he vehemently denied whenever she told him he looked like the Muggle Santa Claus after sex).

“But in the middle of our engagement party, Draco?” she asked incredulously, unable to be annoyed at him with how good she felt. “You couldn’t have waited?”

“Don’t act like you didn’t like it.” He smirked, brow raised. “I don’t think you’ve ever come harder - didn’t even have enough breath left to scream.” Another smack to his muscled shoulder was delivered, but he didn’t even have the courtesy to wince.

“That’ll teach you to dye Crookie,” she told him unrepentantly. Crookshanks’ successor and her fiancé had a love-hate relationship (with the scale weighing down pretty heavily on ‘hate’), one that had resulted in Draco dyeing her cat a bright peony pink. Hermione had been giving him the cold shoulder for the last few days, with him trying unsuccessfully to earn her forgiveness, and knowing her kink for fucking in public places, tonight, Draco had used it against her quite shamefully.

“You’re lucky I love you, you know,” she grumbled, standing up and shucking her dress back over her knees.

“I know,” was the soft reply, and she looked up to see Draco watching her with a soft smile. Warmth rushing through her, she beamed back at him and stood on tiptoe to drop a light kiss on his full lips.

“Now, come on.” Hermione tugged him to the door. “They’re going to be wondering where we are.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll just them how you sexually assaulted me while I was on my way to the bathroom. They’ll understand,” Draco answered. Hermione rolled her eyes. They both knew how much he loved it when she pulled him away for impromptu sex sessions. Could you blame her? The man was irresistible.

“You wouldn’t,” Hermione replied as the two walked towards the dining room. Just as they were about to enter, Draco turned and winked. Hermione’s stomach dropped. There was no way he –

Who was she kidding – this was Draco Malfoy they were talking about.

“Draco,” she hissed as he pulled her across the wooden floorboards towards their guests, her hand firmly clasped in his. “Draco, don’t you even think about it. Draco. DRACO!”

Fin…

And here is the second of the two stories I promised you! If you haven’t checked out ‘Carpe Imperium’, head on over to my profile and do so. I can’t believe the reception it’s gotten. J

‘Under the Table Assault’ (which is my shortest work to date at under 3,000 words) was written for the 2012 Smutty Claus challenge on LJ. I hope you liked it.

As for ‘The Gauntlet’, expect the next chapter either tomorrow or on Wednesday.

Once again, I love and appreciate you all. You can’t imagine how happy I got whenever I read a ‘Carpe Imperium’ review. It’s actually quite sad… LOL

Till next time…

TBOF
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Under The Table Assault