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It's Just Sex

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Granger’s period arrives a week late. Still, he’s never seen her so happy. Draco’s less enthused, though he will admit that wanting Granger pregnant isn’t as much of a thrill when she’s totally miserable at the mere thought of it.

At least, it’s Friday. While he’s not exactly giddy about spending time with Weasley and Potter in any shape or form, it’s the symbolism that counts. He’s Granger’s… boyfriend now, and that’s certainly something to be excited about, even if that means more time spent with insufferable Gryffindors.

To his surprise, the evening’s not a complete disaster. When he and Granger return to her flat, she’s happier than he’s seen her in a long time.

“That wasn’t half terrible, was it?” he asks, secretly anxious for her judgement.

“It was alright,” she responds and smiles at him.

Draco helps her out of her coat and hangs it alongside his into the cupboard under the stairs. It’s one of the tiny routines they’ve built. He then follows Granger into the sitting room. It’s not too small with a large bay window that lets in lots of light during the day. At night, Granger prefers to close the curtains because “she doesn’t want the neighbours watching.”

Not tonight though.

Tonight Granger’s standing at the window, looking outside where the yellow glow of the streetlamps illuminate the inky darkness of the night.

At the sound of his footfalls, she turns around to face him. “Cat’s out of the bag now.”

Draco swallows, unsure what will happen next. You never know with her.

So he just nods.

“Looking back, I’m wondering why we ever kept this a secret to begin with.”

Slowly, she walks toward him, shedding her cardigan as she does, revealing the simple olive-coloured neck halter dress she wore tonight. It’s an excellent dress, delineating her curves and shaping her contours in a way that leaves him desperate to rip it right off and see what’s underneath.

Even though he’s the one attracted to her; she’s the huntress. She’s a tigress on the prowl. Dangerous and sexy. And if he isn’t careful, she’ll go in for the kill.

“It’s—” Draco swallows again because he has trouble thinking straight with all the blood rushing down to his awakened cock.

“Yes?” she husks, putting her arms around his neck, her fingers sliding through his hair.

“—because you asked me to,” he manages, before his mind-power focuses on the way her other hand is sliding purposefully down his body, her fingers building a delightful pressure that stokes this need for her that’s become almost second nature.

“Ahhh,” Granger says. Her hand has reached his belly, and still, it travels lower until she’s there. “Yes, you’re right, I did make you promise, didn’t I?” And she squeezes his erection through his trousers. “But only because you’re so cocky.”

Draco can barely muffle his moan, but it gets harder and harder to hold back as Granger starts properly wanking him through his trousers. He kisses her to keep some semblance of control. He also needs a distraction. The way he tastes her greedily, lips her lips, her tongue, sucks her own gasps out of her is the only way he can keep himself from betraying that he’s completely whipped.

Granger doesn’t let up though. She’s far too good at this, even with their clothes still on and the curtains undrawn. When she gives him a particularly great squeeze that would usually tell Draco to rip off all her clothes and shag her against the next available surface, Draco barely manages to stifle another moan—when it dawns on him that he doesn’t have to keep this hidden any longer.

At the realisation held-back desire burst throughout his body, shredding every last instance of self-control he's built.

He grabs her by the shoulders and spins her around so she’s facing the windows. He pulls her closer, her hips connecting with his groin. Granger gasps, half from surprise, half from arousal, but as soon as she realises what he’s doing, she’s giving in to it, twisting her hands into his hair, pulling his face down to her neck. Draco sucks at her nape, placing open-mouthed kisses against her skin as he pulls her even tighter against his front because he’s desperate to get as much of her as he can. Granger does the same. She grinds her bum against his cock, eager to repay the favour or perhaps to egg him on to go further. Draco’s moans grow desperate, not only from the way her delicious arse rubs against him, which is all kinds of wonderful. Also because she does it in full view of the street. His left hand snakes underneath her dress to find her nipple hard and waiting to be teased. He starts with light, gentle touches which never fail to drive her mad, while rubbing almost soothing circles into her buttocks, her hips, her thighs.

“Don’t be a prat,” Granger breathes and impatiently rocks against his cock in a way that makes Draco want to vanish her knickers and pull her onto his hard, throbbing cock, neighbours be damned. “You know what I want.”

He twists Granger’s nipple a little harder, and she lets out a needy gasp. “Don’t tempt me, witch.”

“Why not,” she husks and leans forward thereby pushing her pert, delicious bum against him that has tiny fireworks explode inside his brain.

“You’re playing with fire, angel. You’re being very naughty. And you know what I do when you’re being naughty.”

“And what is that?” asks Granger under her breath. She pushes her bum further back, gyrating her hips to rub his cock in a way that leaves him aching for more and makes him think of nothing else than more, harder, yes. Right that second, he thanks Merlin that his trousers are tailored from cloth so delicate, it’s almost as thin as Granger’s dress; a dress, which leaves him in no doubt about her state of arousal. Their clothes make for a thin barrier, barely keeping his throbbing cock away from her soaking wet cunt. But it’s still a barrier. And then there’s the fact that she’s bleeding…

“Are you in any pain?” he asks through the desire-addled haze fogging his brain. “Can I…” He breathes deeply because he doesn’t think he can not—

“Yes! Pleeease!” Granger gasps desperately.

In the blink of an eye, he’s hiked up her dress to yank down her knickers. They catch between her thighs, forcing her into an awkward position. Before she can struggle out of them, he vanishes them with a wave of his hand.

Granger’s protests drown in a gasp as he unbuttons his trousers just enough to pull out his cock. He rubs himself against the exposed flesh of her buttocks.

She sighs, increasing their friction, sliding back and forth to give him more, but never quite enough. Draco breaths heavily as he lines himself up with her.

Fuck.

She’s dripping. He’s so used to her body, he can feel it’s not all blood; the stickiness of her slick is clinging to his glans that’s rubbing back and forth between her pussy lips.

“Oh, god,” Granger exhales. “Please, Draco. I want you. ”

Her breath comes short and laboured, and Draco knows it’s not just because he’s about to shag her silly.

They’re on display. In their brightly lit sitting-room, they’re like actors on a stage, about to put on a show for all those in the dark outside, watching.

His hands slide around her body and under her dress to find her nipples still hard and waiting to be teased. Splaying his hands against her chest, he pulls her flush against himself.

Then, he finally slides home.

A gasp bursts forth between her lips, followed by a deep, needy moan. They never let up. Her sighs are joined by his, accompanied by the sounds of their sexes slapping against each other, only slightly muffled from the clothing still in the way. Draco feels drunk from the way Granger’s cunt feels hot and wet and impossibly tight around his cock; from the way he’s shagging her whilst dressed; but also from the possibility of being watched.

They’re no longer a secret. Her friends know that he and Granger are shagging, and soon enough everyone will know. Certainly, the neighbours now know, and he feels giddy with joy that Granger has stopped caring if they do. After months of secret shags, of sneaking around and hiding in the shadow of the night, the freedom of no longer looking over one’s shoulders when all he wants is to share his luck with everyone feels like the best thing in the world.

Draco pulls Granger tighter against his front, his fingers digging into her thighs, his hips grinding up and into her the way he likes, and Granger’s tone shifts. Her moans grow low, deep, more desperate, and the walls of her cunt start fluttering around him. He feels it coming, the impending explosion and as her cunt starts seizing, desire vibrates up his spine and shoot down again. He explodes into her with a shout, and as his orgasm rattles through him, from his head to his toes, he burrows into her, deeper the only thing on his mind.

Something is dripping onto Draco’s half-opened trousers. It might be cum, it might be her juices; perhaps even blood. He can’t be arsed enough to care. With a wave of his hand, he closes the curtains. It’s time to get his witch naked and cleaned up for round two.

Show’s over.