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This Spark of Black That I Seem to Love

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Malfoy can't arrive quickly enough - of course he can't, she's been standing in her kitchen in nothing but this fucking apron for over twenty minutes, and she'd already been too eager for his visit before she'd changed out of her work clothes. The cool air circulating through the house is making her even hornier, but per their agreement, Hermione can't actually do anything about it yet - and she's all too aware that every minute - every second - counts, when Harry and Ron are only delayed in their returns home by stopping at George's shop first. Many times she'd had only just enough time to change before Ron got back, and recently she'd been increasingly suspicious that Malfoy was using that to his advantage.

She's gingerly putting a pot on the stove when she hears the floo; she knows it's Malfoy because he says nothing yet. Thank Merlin. That's nearly ten minutes late - and perhaps ten before she could expect her husband home, but that estimate might be generous.

She moves to the side of the sink, not wanting to risk ending up bent closer to the stove. Malfoy's breath is harsh and ragged when he comes into the kitchen, his suit jacket already taken off and his sleeves folded up to his elbows.

"Hard day, Granger," he informs her, because he knows she'll ask how he is - he hates that she does, but he always answers her. His briefcase and whatever else he's carrying clangs against the kitchen table as he drops them, and he wastes no time trying to be neat about things. He'll have come and gone in a matter of minutes, anyway.

Very hard day, she realizes when he touches her cunt first before any other part of her; she shivers at his deft, unceremonious fingers, and then they leave her, instead traveling up her backside, gripping harshly and teasing her with her own wetness.

"But at least you're being a good girl, hmm, Granger? Always such a good girl..." he growls, not giving her a chance to reply before pulling her head around to his and engulfing her in a deep, desirous kiss. He continues snogging her as his grasps at her bum grow even more forceful, knowingly leaving bruises, and Hermione only manages to moan, until one of his hands speed back down to spread her legs apart and she gasps at the press of his hand against her cunt as he urges her to bend forward.

Hermione obliges, and he stops fondling her again, focusing on rubbing his hard cock against her bum and the small of her back. One of her gasps swells into a desperate whine; he reaches around her to grab her breasts and press the still-clothed front of his body to her back.

"Do you want something, Granger? Hmm? Well, I can't read your mind, spit it out."

Her back arches, and Malfoy commandingly implores her again: "tell me what you want from me, Granger."

"I want you to fuck me."