"Just a minute," Hermione said. She ran her pen down a request from the Department of Mysteries, checking off items to cross-reference. Working at a fine writing desk in her room at Vienna's Hotel Imperial, she was the picture of propriety. Clad in a modest, stylish outfit that was more suited for a boardroom than a bedroom, she sat primly at the gilded writing desk with her ankles crossed and diligently wrote down notes.
"Hermione, please," Scorpius said raggedly.
"I told you to sit still. If you keep on wiggling around, it'll take even longer for me to finish these notes."
He whimpered, and she hid a supremely satisfied smile. Scorpius was sprawled in a chair beside her, and it was quite obvious that he didn't care one whit about her work. His shirt was unbuttoned and hanging off of his well-toned frame, his trousers were unzipped and shoved down his hips, and his cock was hard and on display. He looked utterly debauched, especially considering the fact that she was slowly jerking him off with her free hand.
She hadn't expended to spend the summer after her divorce sleeping with Scorpius Malfoy, but it was a lovely way to pass the time. He'd been in Vienna for the Austrian National Library's papyrus collection, preparing a scholarly work, and they'd bumped into each other in the stacks. Her initial offer of help had been taken up, and eventually, become far more.
She heard his joints pop as he tightened his white-knuckled grip on the arms of his chair. She smiled and kept her eyes on the memo in front of her. She ran her fingers over the head of his cock, slicking her fingers with come before lightly stroking his shaft. He made a strangled sound. She gave in to temptation and glanced over. Scorpius's head was thrown back, his eyes tightly shut, and his muscles tense with the effort of not thrusting.
"Please—I need—please," he begged. If she closed her eyes, she could almost believe that she was hearing a different voice, one similar but with a more bitter drawl.
"Be quiet or I'll stop."
Scorpius gasped and thrust against her hand, then jerked his hips to a halt. His hands were shaking as he slowly lowered himself back down onto the chair. As he settled, she brushed a fingertip down the length of his shaft, running it lightly back and forth across the ridge of his cock. He bit back a whimper. She traced patterns over the head of his cock, smearing the warm liquid over her fingertips before raising her hand to her mouth. She licked the drops off of her fingers, one by one, and she could hear Scorpius's ragged breath. When she grasped his cock, fingers slick from her mouth, he was thick and heavy in her hand. She could feel him tremble beneath her touch. She dragged out her strokes, teasing him with touches too light to make him come, drawing out his pleasure until she knew that he was at the edge of his endurance. The sounds that he made were enough to make Hermione press her thighs together in an effort not to reach under her skirt and bring herself off.
She sighed. "I suppose you've been good." She lowered her quill and turned away from the desk.
Scorpius's eyes were dark with lust, and his tongue darted out to wet his mouth. She wrapped her fingers around his cock and began to work him in earnest. She pumped her hand along his shaft, rhythmically squeezing as she neared his head. The head of his cock was seeping, pre-come tricking down his shaft and onto her fingers, and she knew that he was close. She raised her other hand, licked it, and palmed the head of his cock.
With a shout, he came. He shuddered his way through his orgasm, his eyes tightly shut. As he came down from the high, she gently unwrapped her hands from his cock, careful not to jostle him. He hissed as she let go, his chest heaving as he gasped for air.
When his eyes opened, Hermione raised her sticky hand, making sure to catch his attention. As he watched, she delicately licked his come off her fingertips. Scorpius watched, utterly enraptured. After a moment, he shook his head and weakly laughed.
"You're going to be the death of me," he said.
"But it would be such a pleasant death. Come on, we'll be late for dinner." She swatted at his knee, trying not to squirm and rub her thighs together even as she stood. Her knickers felt soaked, and she desperately wanted to come, but she reminded herself of how much better it would be if she waited before allowing Scorpius to take her to bed. Impatience always made him work harder.
Scorpius was charming, clever and handsome. So far the affair had been pleasant, with no real hint of discord. She suspected that he was more than a touch infatuated with her; she certainly wasn't worried that he'd prove fickle in his attentions. Although, there were moments, when the light fell on his hair or a shadowed look crossed his face, when she was reminded of someone else who'd once sworn by the Malfoy name that she held his heart in her hand.
"Dinner, dinner," he said. "Remind me why we need to go out tonight?" He rose from the chair, stretching as he rolled his shoulders with a pop. With a sigh, he reached for his wand and conjured a damp towel, cleaning himself up before Vanishing the used towel and conjuring a fresh one, which he thoughtfully handed to her. As she wiped off her hands, he tucked himself away and fastened his trousers with deft movements.
"Because you've wanted to try Steirereck ever since you read about their one hundred and twenty types of cheese, and it's taken us two months to get reservations?" she said, watching Scorpius right his clothing. Her breath caught at his sheer aesthetic grace. His hands were long and fine-boned, distracting as they buttoned his shirt, straightened his collar, and then swept white-blond hair back from his eyes. She'd only known one other person with hair that soft and fine.
Besides his distinctive hair, Scorpius had the pale eyes and sharp features that marked him as a Malfoy. There was no mistaking that particular bloodline. It had surprised her when he'd mentioned that he hadn't gone out for his House's team while he was at Hogwarts, as he had a light build and long frame which would have been perfect for playing Seeker. He caught her watching and he smiled. She resisted the urge to blush. They'd been lovers for long enough, she told herself, that she could look at him as much as she wanted. Goodness knows that he studied her often enough while they were in bed.
She didn't dwell on the fact that she'd always insisted that they meet at her hotel room rather than his rented flat. There was a part of her that she didn't want to acknowledge which was less terrified of being accidentally caught by her family or Ron, freshly divorced from a twenty-three year marriage, than somehow have to explain to Draco what she was doing with his son.
Hermione cleared her throat as she smoothed down her skirt, feeling proud of the fact that her hands barely trembled. "The reservation is at eight. Even if we Apparate, we'll be cutting it close."
He narrowed his eyes. For a moment, looking at him, she wished that his eyes weren't ever so slightly blue. "You know we'll be dining for hours." He raised a hand and ran it down her arm, catching her hand and playing with her fingers. She drew in a sharp breath, feeling her traitor heart begin to pound. "Why don't we skip dinner and stay in?"
She took a step back, trying to reign in her fraying self-control. "Dinner first," she said. "If you're good, I'll let you fuck me later."
"Later?" He grabbed her hips and pulled her against him, sliding one hand down to grab her arse and the other to hold the nape of her neck, kissing her deeply. Her desire flared to life, and Hermione slid her hands up his chest, trying not to squirm as he took control of the kiss. He slid his hand from her arse and yanked on her skirt, hiking it up.
Hermione pulled back from the kiss. "Our reservation," she gasped, even as her hands clutched him closer. He pressed kisses down the column of her throat as he pushed her knickers aside.
"Forget the reservation," he purred. "How about I fuck you now?" He pressed his hand against the apex of her thighs, and then he dipped his hand lower and circled his fingers over her clit. Hermione clutched his shoulders as her knees folded, shaking from the intensity of her desire. He laughed softly and gently bit her throat, wrapping his other arm around her waist and pulling her closer. She was soaking wet, and Scorpius easily slid his fingers down, spreading her open and sliding two fingers inside her. When he curved his fingers, she trembled.
"Malfoy," she moaned, and he caught her lips in a kiss. Whatever else he was, Scorpius was very much his father's son.