Hermione was sitting on the couch in the living room of her home. Her legs were stretched across the length of the couch as she leaned against the arm of it. Her chin was perched in the nook of her elbow. A frown was set on her lips as her brows were knitted together and her eyes were staring at the wall.
The fire was roaring and crackling in the fireplace; it was the only sound her ears heard. The way the shadows of the furniture hit the wall, Hermione knew that the sun was getting low. She bit her lip, knowing what that meant: it was going to be a long night yet again.
She’d been so wrapped up in her thoughts of the long night that she didn’t hear the door opening through the foyer and the approaching figure.
“What are you thinking about, love?” a voice said, interrupting her thoughts.
She blinked, glancing up at the source of the voice: her husband, Draco. He was looking at her with an amused, sly smile on his face. Her eyes trailed from his face to the papers in his hands.
That’s what she was thinking about.
Draco had been working day and night for the past couple of days. It was driving her bonkers when she was at home alone. Yes, she knew that he had the demanding job thanks to his father’s corruptive mistakes he’d made before his death. Lucius might have died peacefully, but he left nothing but chaos for the company.
Being his son, Draco had to take over it. Everything had been fine until the demands had gotten worse, which made things quiet at home. He would come in, greet her, and go to his study. After that, he would leave the study, get dressed for work, and do the same thing over again.
They didn’t even have playful banter like they used to! As much as she hated that smirk of his when he was up to something, it was what she missed the days she’s not really seen her husband.
Her job was a demanding job as well, but she did nothing like this. Hermione still made it home to clean or make the time that Draco didn’t come for. It was time for Hermione to do something about it; being neglected is not something that she favoured.
Hermione smiled at him and shook her head; he wouldn’t even argue with her if she did state what she was thinking about. He’d just say they’d talk about it after he was finished with his work.
“Nothing, Draco,” she answered.
He came over to kiss her forehead before heading straight to his study. When his back was to her, she clenched her fist on the arm of the couch; she would not stand for this. She was Hermione Malfoy damnit.
The brunette closed her eyes and took a deep breath; there had to be something that she could do to get him away from his work at least for a few hours. Something…anything…! What would she have to do? Dress like a bloody harlot and—
A sly grin grew on her face; it was exactly what she was going to do. Hermione was going to get what she wanted.
Draco was finishing the last report for the night, and once he had, he tossed his pen on the desk. With a groan, he rubbed his face and glanced at the clock on the wall. It was near 2:30 AM, and he sighed. This was the fifth time he missed dinner and getting to bed; Hermione was going to kill him.
Surely, she understood the importance of his position at the firm. He was the CEO after all, and the head of an international relations firm such as his could not just get by with doing the bare minimum. No, Draco had to do more and then some to keep the business from failing in its early stages. He had to start from the very beginning to purge the company of his father’s corruption.
Rubbing his tired eyes, Draco reached for the pen he tossed to go over the plans set for tomorrow. He had to make it up to Hermione, and he knew that lavish gifts would not work. Therefore, he’d have to schedule in time to do something with his wife.
With his head focused on his planner, Draco only heard the soft click of his study door opening. He didn’t look up because only one person would be entering his study at this hour. He should have noticed that the door wasn’t shut in an angry manner, yet he didn’t. He expected to be lashed at.
“I swear I’m going to leave this study in just a moment,” Draco said. He knew it was a lie; he still had to double check the order of the reports.
When he received no response, he knew he was in trouble. Her silent treatment was worse than her scolding him.
“Hermione, did you hear me?” he asked. “I said I’m going to—”
His words wore caught in his throat after seeing the sight before him. Hermione wasn’t even facing him. In fact, she was facing his bookcase on the wall with a feather duster in her hand. She was dusting the books. Her head was tilted as if she were concentrating on her work and completely ignoring him.
Her quietness and nonchalant nature at this moment were scaring him. Though that wasn’t the worse of it. Hermione was wearing a maid outfit. The black fabric trimmed with white lace stopped mid-thigh, and white stockings lined up with the dress and settled in the black Mary Janes on her feet. Her hair was tied up with curls spilling from the top of her head behind a small hat that matched the outfit.
Draco’s throat was dry, and he rubbed his eyes, wondering if it was all a dream. It wasn’t; he was definitely awake.
The tiredness he felt moments prior was gone instantaneously.
Hermione stood up on her toes to reach the top of the shelf, and Draco watched her dress rise up her thighs.
He dropped his pen.
“Hermione,” Draco started, causing her to look over her shoulder to him. “Why aren’t you asleep?” ‘Why am I trying to make you stop?’
A small smile graced her features, and a hint of a blush coloured her cheeks. “My name is Yvette, Mr. Malfoy,” she answered in a soft yet firm tone. “I’m here to clean your study as you instructed.”
Draco licked his lips, racking his brain for the name Yvette. Nothing was coming to him quickly, so he had two choices: call the game she was playing off so he could get back to work, or he could play along with her charade for a moment longer.
He knew that his work was important, but he was no fool. He could not…would not…deny himself this.
So he reclined in his chair, resting his hand on his leg as he stared at ‘Yvette’. “You’ve arrived later than you should have, haven’t you?” he asked.
Hermione shook her head. “No, sir. I’m here at the exact time that you asked of me.” She turned her body completely to him, giving Draco an even more delicious view of her outfit. The neckline of her dress dipped low enough to show a teasing amount of her cleavage, and it sent a jolt through Draco’s entire body.
His pants were starting to feel a bit tighter. He tried stretching his legs a bit and cleared his throat; the moment he wanted in her game was going to go further than he intended.
“All right,” Draco said, his voice raspier as he tried to shake the haze forming in his mind. “I’ll leave you to it, Yvette. Just remember I’m finishing a very important report presentation, yeah?”
A small frown formed on her face, but Hermione quickly changed it back to the smile she gave him earlier. “Yes, Mr. Malfoy,” she answered, turning back around to dust the bookshelf once more.
Draco glanced at her as he reached for the pen he dropped on his desk. Once it was in his grasp, he glanced back at the planner opened in front of him. Everything was blurring into mush, which was slightly frustrating. He couldn’t focus when he knew Hermione was mere feet away from him in that getup.
The constraints in his pants wouldn’t allow him.
He looked at Hermione, seeing her on her knees and stretching to reach the back of the bookshelf. With every stretch she made, Draco could see the faint line of her bum.
His finger twitched around the pen in his hand.
The blond would not subject himself to wanking in front of his wife or his work; that was too messy and disrespectful on his part. When he saw her slowly getting back to her feet, Draco felt relieved. He shifted his eyes back to the planner and papers on his desk, his mind starting to get back on track.
The second his pen touched a section in his planner, Draco was met with a feather. He hesitantly lifted his head, only to be met with the top of Hermione’s breasts in his line of sight.
She was leaning forward across the desk, an innocent expression on her face. The only betrayal to her appearance was the flush of her neck and cheeks.
“You only mentioned the bookcase to be dusted, Mr. Malfoy,” she said. “Were there any other areas you wished to be dusted or cleaned?”
Draco’s lips had parted, but no words came out. Honestly, he didn’t know what to say. In most instances, he’d be sarcastic or charming, either one would get him the reaction he wanted out of his feisty wife. Yet here he was speechless. Perhaps the long work nights were starting to affect his character more than he’d like to admit.
He licked his lips once more, staring in her wide, brown eyes. They peered into his soul with a challenge, a demand that he focused on her; he was attracted and aroused.
“I believe that there’s a section of the desk that needs your assistance, Hermione—”
“Yvette,” she corrected.
“Right, yes, Yvette. If you came to this side of the desk, I’d be happy to show you so you wouldn’t mess with the papers I’m working on.”
Hermione nodded, walking to his side. She stood with her back facing him. “Which section, Mr. Malfoy?”
Draco reached forward with his hand, but he didn’t direct her to a place on the desk. Instead, he touched her thigh where her stockings and dress meet. The silky touch of her skin caused him to groan lightly. He heard her gasp gently, and it only prompted him to go up. He ran his hand up her thigh, taking in her soft flesh all the way to the curve of her bottom. He took the risk and went higher, feeling the entirety of her left butt cheek; he’d yet to feel a panty line.
The thought of her without knickers under this dress drove him insane. It was unlike Hermione, though he wasn’t going to question it until later.
Draco withdrew his hand from under her dress and unbuttoned two more buttons from his shirt. The room was heating up by the second for him.
“Turn around, Yvette,” he ordered.
Hermione did as he said and turned around. He saw her eyes cast down to the bulge in his pants, and he smirked. He beckoned her with his finger.
“I’ve decided on a better idea,” he told her. “Sit right here.”
He gestured to his lap, and Hermione complied with the lick of her lips. As soon as she straddled him, Draco grunted and kissed her, his hands resting on her bum. Hermione leaned into him, placing a hand on his jaw and the other in his hair.
The blond ground his hips into hers, letting one of his hands reach up to her hair and toss the hat aside. He unpinned her curls, feeling it brush against his cheeks and neck.
He pulled away from the kiss, staring Hermione in the eyes. She was catching her breath, her lips slightly red.
“Want to tell me why you tempted me, Mrs. Malfoy?” he asked her.
Hermione glanced down sheepishly before meeting his eyes with a defiant look. “You’re working too much,” she said.
Draco snorted. “Pot, meet kettle,” he quipped.
She gave him a quick glare. “I’m serious, Draco. You’ve been holed up in here all night, working long hours in the day, and I’ve missed my husband.” She huffed. “Yes, I love my work as well, but I do try to make time for you. I’ve yet to receive the same courtesy.”
He sighed, leaning his head back. “You know it’s different for me.”
Hermione rolled her eyes. “You know it’s rude for you to make differences in our work when I’m the neglected one here.”
The tiff was over when Draco bucked his hips, making Hermione gasped. Even when she was irritated with him, Hermione looked ravishing. It could have been the dress, but the effect was there regardless.
“I suppose I should rectify that,” he said, pressing his lips against his neck. “You did put in the effort to distract me.” The hand Draco had on Hermione’s bum moved under her dress, his fingers moving to tease her folds. ‘Gods, she’s hot and wet for me.’ “Not wearing any knickers around me is very daring.”
She moved with the rhythm of his fingers as he moved his butterfly kisses to her collarbone.
“It worked, didn’t it?” she asked. “You were one to be attracted to the daring and dangerous.”
Draco groaned, wanting to feel himself inside her now, but she teased and tempted him. She had to pay the price.
“Very true,” Draco answered. “And you’re very daring and dangerous to me right now. Didn’t stand a chance, did I?”
Hermione bit her lip, her head going back as she shook her head. “N-No,” she moaned. “You didn’t.”
In a fluid motion, he retracted his fingers from Hermione’s centre and lifted her in his arms. He’d regret his decisions later, but he’d be damned if he didn’t take her on his desk. Her legs were wrapped around him securely as he pushed most of the papers off his desk and placed her there, taking in the vulnerable, ready state she was in.
He unbuttoned his shirt agonizingly slow and shrugged it off. Draco gripped the neckline of Hermione’s dress.
“And Yvette?” he questioned, referencing to the name she wanted to be called earlier.
“Cluedo,” Hermione responded. The information clicked into his mind immediately, remembering the offhand comment he’d made about the maid one night they’d watched the movie. He loved his wife.
With a wicked gleam in his eye, Draco tugged the neckline down to reveal her bosom. His teeth trailed down her breast to her left nipple where he latched onto it.
He heard his wife’s moans and whimpers and felt her hand gripping his hair. He’d teased her thoroughly until he finally took her right there on his desk. By the time they’d finished, Draco held her in his arms on the study floor. He’d be late for work and his presentation, but he could make it up another time.
He had to help ‘Yvette’ clean up the study. Maybe even some other parts of their house needed a bit more cleaning too.