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Hermione pressed her palm flat against his fly, holding it there as she stared up at him challengingly, daring Draco to put an end to this game they were both playing. She knew him too well. His cock twitched at the heat of her palm, full of anticipation. Seconds later, her nails grazed him and Draco’s lips tightened into one thin line. She licked her lips slowly, her eyes focused on his mouth in return as both her hands worked at freeing him from his pants. When her small, warm hand finally touched his cock, Draco inhaled sharply and mentally cursed himself. He knew it was coming, yet couldn’t help responding, something he hadn’t wanted to do the instant he saw her react. Hermione wanted to tease him, to torture him, and now she had a smug look upon her beautiful face. Draco fought back the urge to snatch her by her wild curls and yank her head backwards. Instead, he set his face and did his damnedest to not give her the satisfaction of responding again.

To be perfectly honest, it was much, much harder than he could have anticipated.

Hermione swiftly freed him and proceeded to use both hands on his cock. She curled her fingers around the base, meeting her thumb, and squeezed. The nails of her free hand raked briefly through his pubic hair and Draco had to swallow harshly to keep from making another noise. He was determined not to give in. She noticed anyway and smiled mischievously. Next, Hermione gripped him with her right hand, again her fingers making a tight, small ring, but this time she brought her hand down over the head, with perfect pressure. Slowly, her right hand progressed downward, meeting her left before making its way back up to the head once more, squeezing all the way.

Draco’s head fell back against the bookshelf, giving him a perfect view of the row leading down through the women’s health section of the library. Surprisingly, this library was rather busy, a dozen or more patrons and librarians bustling about. Anybody could see them easily enough, if they only looked this way. He could even hear two people talking in the distance, but couldn’t make out exactly what they were saying. His balls began to tighten from the excitement. Hermione’s hand moved faster, the thumb swiping across his now leaking head every other full stroke. She had deliberately positioned him here, in this very spot, hoping – no, knowing – that if anybody turned their way, Draco would make direct eye contact and reveal what they were doing. She was in control, and he loved it.

Draco’s breathing quickened along with her pace. Hermione licked her lips again, keeping her gaze upon his face. That’s how she would get off, by seeing her control over him. Her right hand twisted and rolled, twisted and rolled, squeezing on the upstroke, until he thought he would lose his mind. Her left hand squeezed his base just a little harder and when she whispered, “Come for me, Draco,” her voice rising slightly on the a in his name, he did just that.

Hermione quickly released him, using her left hand to cover his moaning mouth. Draco could taste his own sweat and a hint of semen on her hand and he licked it, panting against her fingers. His eyes did not leave hers until he finished. The pair glanced cautiously up and down the row, anxious and excited. With trembling fingers, Draco righted himself and led her out of the library. He could feel his face turning red and every time he looked back at her, she giggled, forcing him to tug her along faster. Once they made it outside, neither could keep their laughter in check.

“That was a bit close, darling, don’t you think?” He asked, cupping her glowing cheeks.

“Oh, you loved it,” she playfully replied, her hands caressing his abdomen through his button down shirt, her finger tips dipping in between the buttons, searching for skin.

“Who would have ever believed you were so incorrigible?”

“Learned it from you, love,” she whispered. Hermione bit her lower lip to keep from smiling broadly and Draco couldn’t resist kissing her. After several nips and licks, she pulled away with a sigh. From out of her small bag, she retrieved a note pad, flipping several pages over the top until she found what she was looking for.

“Glasgow Women’s Library… check! Now… our next stop should be – oh!” She yelped as Draco goosed her. Hermione stifled a giggle when he began to tickle the exposed skin between her low-slung Capri pants and her summery top. They had only been married less than a week and they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Draco bent forward to nuzzle her neck when she turned her back on him, concentrating on her notebook. He always made concentration much more difficult than anyone she’d ever known. Something to do with his wonderfully talented tongue, she reasoned.

“You know, had anyone told me that Hermione Malfoy née Granger was such a little sexual deviant -”

“I am not!” She protested with a small foot stomp. She wriggled out of his embrace before marching on, her irritation minor, but real. “Besides, you agreed to all this.”

“Of course I did, because I love you and I want our Honeymoon to be extraordinary. Although I did think that spending two weeks on our own private island in the Koro sea was a good idea,” he pressed his lips together firmly when she spun back to glare at him. “At first . However, trekking across Scotland, visiting all of your favourite libraries in order to, ahem, exhibit our love for each other has been much more,” he smirked before finishing, “stimulating. By far, this has been my favourite locale, I must say.”

Hermione laughed abruptly. “Oh, yes? You liked this one much more than RCPE, when we made our appointment to trace your ancestors?” Hermione crossed her arms, her gaze appraising him. Her breasts shifted under her thin shirt as she moved and Draco’s eyes were fixed on two particular spots.

At the sudden memory of that visit just days ago, his cock began to twitch once more.

It was in an alcove where they kept these gigantic machines that she had called mini, or micro-something, when she lifted the hem of her skirt. Carefully, slowly, Hermione peeled off her knickers, rolling the thin fabric down her luscious thighs while he watched. Eventually, she tossed them toward him. Draco couldn’t help but sniff them, to breathe in her warm scent that made his blood rush down to his cock in an instant. Absently, he stuffed them into his back pocket. She had then leaned back against one of the giant machines, crooking her finger at him, legs spread invitingly and completely unabashed.

Draco could feel the sweat forming on his upper lip before he fell to his knees before her. He hadn’t thought she’d do it. Hermione lowered her chin and smiled down at him, her musk wafting up towards him. He had been intoxicated by the scent of her arousal. He was constantly intoxicated by this witch, one way or another. The skirt she’d worn was barely long enough to cover his head, and that was the whole point: she wanted to be caught. That was how she liked to play these games, to see which of them would break first, would get them caught. Neither was allowed to use magic in any way, to conceal them, or to Confund the Muggles surrounding them. What was the point otherwise, Hermione had argued, and Draco hadn’t been able to counter that. With every new location, with every little deviant game they played, the ante grew. Draco knew that Hermione was just as competitive as he was, but he was absolutely determined to win, by any means necessary.

Through all of these adventures in various libraries, Draco had yet to learn the consequences of discovery. The thrill of exposure zinged through his body, electrifying it, as he dashed beneath her skirt. Under there, he could still make out the nearby tables and rows of cabinets, but such distractions held no sway on him. Her thighs trembled from anticipation, eagerly awaiting his first touch. His fingers grazed across her trimmed mound, teasing her with his fingertips, and he heard her sigh with relief, or possibly eagerness. Her fingers had mimicked his, twining through his hair and shoving his face deep into her pussy. He was already so hard for her, and they hadn’t even really started.

Draco licked her seam, from bottom to top, quick short licks, gently separating the two lips. Hermione almost cried out, instead twisting her fingers tightly in his hair. He grimaced and dove straight into her. She was already so wet that it was easy enough for Draco to part her seam with just his tongue, exposing her clit, which he latched onto. Hermione shifted her hips, giving him better access, both legs spreading even further apart. Draco wrapped his hands around her thighs for leverage and continued to lick and suck, moaning quietly. Hermione tensed above him, her blunt nails scratching his head.

He wished he could have seen her face, could have watched her silently respond to him. A wicked gleam came to his eyes as he did his best to make her scream out his name. Draco’s hands rubbed down her thighs, disappearing under her skirt as well. The heel of his right hand pressed down upon her mound as he spread her lips open. He sucked the middle finger of his other hand into his mouth for a moment and then thrust it slowly into her cunny. Hermione squirmed, nearly dislodging him. He bit his lips to keep from laughing as he worked his finger back inside, pumping her slowly. His tongue circled around her clit, forcing his new bride to writhe against the machine.

A grinding noise followed and both of them froze in fear before breaking into muffled snickers and, shh’s. Two fingers entered her next and he sucked on her clit, his teeth grazing it gently. She was very close, then, so he added a third finger and let her ride her orgasm out on his hand and into his mouth with a sharp intake of breath.

Draco’s eyes glazed over with the memory of her pungent taste on his tongue, one he could almost taste even now. Hermione smirked before she continued walking away, slower this time. Too many years had been wasted, denying their attraction, their need for each other. Too many dark days had separated them, but fortunately, they had found each other once more, and when they had, both knew they could never be separated again. He remembered the look on her face when she said that it was just like magic. Such a corny line, one he never would have expected from her, yet he couldn’t agree more.

Oh, how he loved this witch! Who would have thought that such a wickedly perverse mind was buried beneath that frizzy, bushy hair? Draco jogged to catch up with her, cupping both hands against her arse and rubbing her up, then down, slowly. She immediately stopped to enjoy his caresses, leaning back against him. His hands moved around her abdomen, sliding up to cup her breasts next. His wife turned her head and they languorously kissed. His wife. Two small words that curled deliciously within his belly every time. Now she wore his ring, and he hers. Two simple gold bands, tangible evidence that they were forever bound to each other, that their bond was solid and never-ending. She was his wife, now and forever, and Draco was the luckiest bastard alive.

"You make me feel young."

"We are young."

"Younger, then, like when we were just kids. Why didn't we do this sooner, hm?"

"Because you were a bigoted prat, prejudiced against my heritage," she quickly replied.

"I was a fool."

"Yes, that, too. Ow! I said was. Was!

They were far enough now from the library that they could have Apparated on to their next destination, but Draco was tired of such teasing. He wanted her, properly, utterly, and preferably in a bed. However, she was in charge and they were on a mission. “The map room is open for another hour at the National Library,” he whispered into her ear, suckling her earlobe afterwards. The heel of her palm kneaded his hard cock through his trousers and left him aching desperately for her. “Why don’t we get a move on, then?”