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The old stone fireplace roars to life for the first time in over a decade. The newly minted Granger-Malfoys step out from the green flames and Hermione breathes in the warm, Brazilian air. Draco watches her with singular veneration."Malfoy, this place is beautiful."Flickering sconces light the brutalist villa decorated with tropical flora and dark, wooden furnishings. Lush ferns hang from the high, granite walls. The fireplace is lined with rough stones that extend the height of the open room. The centerpiece takes Hermione's breath away fully. A large, twisting tree trunk breaks free from the moss-laden patch in the floor and surpasses the second-floor hallway, branches sprouting in all directions and leaves snowing over the expansive living room, vanishing before they litter the ground in color."That's Granger-Malfoy to you, my love." Draco scoops Hermione up by the waist and plants a greedy kiss to his wife's mouth. Hermione squeals in surprise but quickly returns the kiss with passion."Hmm... First Paris, then New York, Thailand, and now Brazil? Exactly how many mansions are the Malfoys hiding?""I believe you missed Sicily, Cabo, and Sydney. But don't worry. As my wife," Draco steals another kiss following the use of his new favorite word, "we'll have you acquainted to all of the properties in no time. That's what a honeymoon is for, isn't it?"Hermione rolls her eyes."For regular
people, usually they stick with one destination for their honeymoon. There aren't many people who can afford to jet set across the world after getting married, not to mention afford to own enormous properties in multiple countries." She pecks him on the cheek."I guess it's a good thing we're using the floo connections instead of the jet, otherwise this could really put us in the hole," Draco drawls. He smirks at her, and she shakes her head and laughs. She wanders around the living room, exploring the home. She approaches the deep green, velvet sofa and runs her hand across the arm of the chair, feeling the luxurious material under her fingers. She looks at Draco for permission - enthusiastically given as it is her home now, too - and sinks into the plush cushion. Draco leisurely strides over to behind where Hermione sits and places his hands on her shoulders. He massages her muscles, and she relaxes deeper under his touch. He leans down and speaks softly into her ear, not missing how a shiver runs through her. He smirks to himself."So, I was thinking... there's a great spot in wizarding Sao Paulo. Private dining, bottle service," he leans in closer, somehow. "Meat to die for," he whispers seductively. He straightens again. "I've already made reservations, but we can reschedule if you want to take the night to settle in?" His fingers continue their light massage and Hermione hums in relief. With a small flick of his wand, the wall across from the pair reveals itself as a curtain and rises, showing off a full glass wall showcasing breathtaking views of the Atlantic Ocean dipped in golden light from the sun setting. She gasps in disbelief for a moment, then turns her head to face Draco."I was actually thinking we could go to a muggle spot tonight. When you said we were coming here I did some research."Shocking, Draco thinks."No, not you. Research?" He jokes. "A muggle restaurant, hm? What could they have that a wizarding one wouldn't provide tenfold?"Hermione's eyes sparkle with mischief and she chuckles softly. Draco wishes he could freeze this picture in time and live in it forever. He attaches his lips to the soft spread of skin under her ear, eager to know what's going on inside her perfect head.
"Not a restaurant. A club." Draco hums against her skin in response and pulls back, raising an eyebrow in question. She blushes."Don't get me wrong, I love all of these places you've taken me. Completely unnecessary, really, the amount of money you've spent in a matter of two weeks," she rambles. No, he thinks."Stop right there. There isn't a price in this world that I'm not willing to pay in order to treat my beautiful, gorgeous, heavenly, absolute genius of a wife to everything she deserves." Draco kisses Hermione's head and she shakes him off, looking at him impatiently. He rolls his eyes."Continue," he waves at her."As I was saying, I love everywhere you've taken me, and the privilege of the wizarding world is not beyond me. I'm just missing the muggle world a bit, you know? I've spent all this time integrating into your exclusive and luxurious pureblood world. Don't you think it's due time you dipped a toe into mine?" She looks at him with scheming eyes. He taps her with the toe of his shoe."Consider me dipped." Draco drinks in the sight of her like this. What are you up to, witch? "Of course, anything you want. Muggle club it is."
Hermione earnestly grins at him, standing up from the couch."Thank you! Can you reschedule that reservation for tomorrow? It does sound lovely." Hermione looks down at her casual clothes, and back up at Draco's long frame. "I suppose we should get changed then. Show me to our room?"
A devilish smile spreads across Draco's face. He steps around the end of the couch and picks her up bridal-style, carrying her away.
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Draco is adjusting the watch on his wrist when Hermione clears her throat. Draco begins to turn towards her."Ready to go, darl-" His voice hitches in his throat when he looks up at her.
Merlin.
Hermione is dressed in a napkin, Draco thinks.
A jewel encrusted one, he amends. The dress shimmers in the pale, bedroom light as she shows off for him. The light material sits low on her chest, hugs her hips like a second skin, and stops just below the curves where her ass meets the rest of her legs. The back is nonexistent, really. Draco's cock twitches upon first sight. He takes a deep breath, daring to take a step closer.
"I have many, many questions about this dress... the first being what the fuck type of establishment are you taking us to where this," he gestures to the silver garment, "is even close to appropriate, Granger?""That's Granger-Malfoy to you," she teases, repeating his earlier sentiment. The jewelry draped around her neck perfectly complements her skin as she laughs at him.
No, he corrects himself. Granger-Malfoy is his new favorite word.
They first had the last name conversation with Draco's face deep between Hermione's thighs.
"Fuck," she whines. "Fuck, right there." She slides her hands into his hair, gripping him closer to her core. The diamond ring he presented to her earlier currently cuts into his scalp, but Draco doesn't notice. Following a long swipe up her center, he pulls back, panting. The whimper she makes at the loss of contact is enough to almost make him abandon what he wants to say. Almost.
"I think we should hyphenate."
Hermione jerks her head up and opens her glossy eyes.
"Wh-what?" She questions him breathlessly.
"I think we should hyphenate. Malfoy-Granger."
She looks at him with nothing less than pure malice.
"You really want to have this conversation right now?" She stares at him disapprovingly. He relishes every second of it.
"Why not? Is something more important going on right now, or..." He grins and lowers his head kissing her just enough to keep her from coming down. Hermione drops her head against the silk pillowcase and groans at the feeling of him returning to her center. He hums in satisfaction and lifts his head again, swip ing his tongue across his slick bottom lip.
"I just think, knowing you, hyphenating is the appropriate move. Plus, can I tell you a secret?"
Hermione glares at her fiancé. He knows she sees right past his little game but smiles innocently anyway. The smell of her arousal is intoxicating, and he fights to stay focused. Draco
kisses the inside of her thigh.
"I think there's a ripped off corner of a scroll from fourth year," he kisses her higher, "hidden somewhere in my childhood bedroom back in Wiltshire." Higher. "If I remember correctly, it has the words," even higher, "Draco Granger written on them." She squirms with anticipation. "So, you know," his lips clamp onto her clit. He's rewarded with the sound of her crying out his name.
Perfect angel, he thinks. He works her for a few seconds before raising his head once more.
"Gods, I swear, Draco..." Hermione growls at him. Draco shushes her and slowly dances his fingers up the path his mouth just took. He brings two of his fingers to his lips and stares into her eyes as he dips them into his mouth, swirling his tongue around them, and releasing them with a small 'pop.'
He could come in his trunks just from the sound she makes at the sight of this. He holds out.
He gently presses into her entrance, panting, mouth open as he continues with their unblinking eye contact. 'Anything, always for you' plays in his mind like a mantra.
"Better?" he asks, words dripping in desire. She squeezes her eyes shut and nods, and he presses his fingers against her walls just the way she likes.
"As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted..." Hermione peeks her eyes open as Draco winks at her. She rolls her eyes. A bead of pre-cum leaks out and Draco gulps.
"Hyphenating. What do you think?" He looks at her lovingly. Hermione takes a minute to catch her breath and finally looks at him.
"Make it Granger-Malfoy and I'm all in."
"Fuck," Draco tenses, closes his eyes, and grunts. The front of his trunks grows increasingly wet as he releases his load into them without even touching himself. He gasps, sucking in air, and looks up at Hermione with all of the love in the world in his eyes.
"Shit, anything you want. Say that again?" He dips his head back down to her core as she repeats the only two words he'll ever need to hear again.
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Hermione apparates them into downtown Sao Paulo in a secluded alleyway. She smooths out her dress and looks at Draco."Ready?"He's dressed too formally for his own good. He looks down at his outfit. She convinced him at least to leave the suit jacket behind, and with some well time kissing and some sleight of hand, she had taken his tie off and unbuttoned his top two buttons just before apparating away.
They step out into the bustling city streets. Crowds surround them. Hermione grips his hand as she navigates to the mysterious 'muggle club' she offered up. Draco looks wide-eyed at the people crossing the open road with no care for any cars driving down it.
Muggles...
He grasps Hermione's hand tighter, on the lookout in case he needs to pull her away from any oncoming death machines they call 'cars.'
Hermione stops them in front of a nightclub, bass booming from inside the concrete walls. A line of muggle adults spans a full city block, and Draco looks at them with horror before glancing at Hermione's shoes. Little strappy heels. Certainly, she doesn't intend on waiting out here in those. He's pulled out of his thoughts when she nudges him."You brought muggle money, right?" she whispers.
"Uh, oh, yeah right here." Draco pulls out an obscene wad of Brazilian reals and slaps it into her hand. Hermione gawks at the cash and shoves it in her small clutch quickly, looking around them nervously."What, are you trying to get us mugged? I said bring a couple hundred, not five thousand!" she barks at him. Draco shrugs."What?" He asks. She forgets how clueless he is when it comes to muggle culture. Not my fault.
Hermione pulls out three hundred reals and approaches the bouncer. She greets him in broken Portuguese, hastily translated on her phone while getting dressed back at the villa. The bouncer asks her a question neither of them understands, looking severe and imposing. Hermione shrugs, looking over her shoulder at Draco in panic. Draco shakes his head. He learned quite a few languages throughout his childhood, but Portuguese never happened to be one of them. She sighs and waves the three hundred reals at him. The bouncer gladly takes it, gesturing them through the door. Hermione gleams with excitement and drags Draco inside. He nods at the bouncer as he's jerked away inside the nightclub.Draco is immediately hit with the smell of sweat and liquor. His heart thumps to the beat of the music and he's not sure if it's due to how out of place he feels or the ungodly volume of the subwoofers. What kind of club is this? Draco thinks of the gentleman's clubs back in London. Whiskey in crystal tumblers. Velvet seats. Much softer music. He leans forward to talk, scratch that, yell into Hermione's ear."You know, you probably didn't have to give him any cash. You could have just stood there in that dress, and he would have let you in."Hermione laughs, but Draco can't hear her over the hellish noise around him.
Gods... What would mother think of this place?
Draco has long abandoned his juvenile prejudices, but there are times when he swears he will never understand muggle culture. If this is what it's all about, he wonders if it's even worth the effort. He sneers at group of squealing girls whose drinks spill onto the floor and Draco's dragon leather shoes. Hermione continues to lead him through bodies that stick to their exposed skin and get too close to Hermione for comfort. She finally stops walking and turns to face Draco, smiling. She rises onto her toes to speak into his ear."Well, you sure look like you need a drink. Relax, it's a nightclub!" He leans down to meet her ear as well."How am I supposed to relax? I can hardly breathe. How is this considered fun to muggles?""Let me show you," Hermione giggles. Her innocent smile morphs into something far more adult when she takes a step back, away from him. Draco's hand flexes without her to hold on to.
Hermione begins to sway to the upbeat music and starts running her hands up her thighs, hips, ribs, into her hair. She lets it fall as she raises her hands over her head. Then her hips, her damn hips, start moving in ways he's only had the pleasure of seeing in the privacy of their locked bedrooms. The lights flash like cameras around her, washing her in rainbow hues. Draco watches her intently, studying her movements. He forgets where he is momentarily as a wave of need washes over him and he feels the beginnings of an erection coming on. It takes a brutish man slamming into him to bring him back to the present moment."Excuse me," Draco growls at the shirtless man besides him. The man yells something in Portuguese that Draco doesn't catch and waves him off like it's no big deal. Draco glares at him in return. The man raises his hands in surrender and moves away.
Some things transcend even the language barrier. He looks back at Hermione, her eyes closed, blissfully unaware of Draco's deep discomfort. People of all genders start to dance closer to Hermione, giving her bedroom eyes and offering themselves up to her. She smiles and dances with one of the people close by. Before he can check himself, Draco is stepping in and grabbing Hermione's wrist, pulling her out of her crowd of admirers. She lifts a challenging brow at him."Don't get me wrong, you are absolutely the hottest little minx in the room right now, but don't you want to tone it down? Other people are here, you know, and you appear to be inviting a lot of... attention."Hermione looks at him patronizingly and responds."First of all, I can handle myself, thank you. Second of all, this is what nightclubs are all about! Dancing with strangers and feeling yourself and feeling them with no strings attached and not giving a fuck about it! It's not quite the level of tact in your pureblood social gatherings, but you know I only have eyes for you, anyway. Relax, Draco."Memories of eyes across breakfast tables, hands brushing on their first date, and whimpers in Ministry closets flood Draco's mind. He knows she needs him as badly as he needs her. He can't help it if he gets possessive. Her hands snake around his middle and lock together behind his back. She pulls him in close. Her hips begin to move side to side again, inviting him in. He gingerly places a hand at her side, still wary and scanning the room."Look at me!" Her voice is muffled behind the DJ yelling something to the crowd. She unhooks a hand from behind him, curving a finger and beckoning him to her. "Just look at me!"He obeys, pressing his forehead against hers and locking his eyes onto her gold-flecked ones.
Anything for you.
She moves her hands up around his shoulders and sways with him, loosening him up. The rhythm thumps through Draco, deep into his bones. The steady pulsing serves to anchor him while he tries to move with Hermione. She slides a hand into his hair and grasps a few locks in her fingers. She closes her eyes and sighs, and he can't help but pull himself in for a kiss. She immediately deepens it, using his hair as leverage to pull him in impossibly close. When she comes up for air, Draco's eyes flutter open and readjust to the erratic lighting. Hermione yells and gestures to a nearby bar."I'm going to go get you that drink now. Stay here!"
He nods and watches the way her curves lift the hem of her dress dangerously far north as she slips through a throng of dancers. He looks around territorially, frowning at everyone who notices the same thing. He clenches an impatient fist and waits for her to return to him. Only him, he has to remind himself.He spots her wild curls pushing her way back to him a few minutes later. He perks up and meets her halfway, plucking one of the plastic cups out of her hand. He regards the brown liquor sloshing inside with hesitation."It's called 'Fogo do Dragao.' Dragon Fire, for my dragon." She raises her cup in a toast. His eyes darken and he licks his lips."And for his treasure." He taps the rim of his cup against hers and downs the liquid.
Fuck. The cheap muggle liquor burns his throat as he swallows. He coughs. Meanwhile, Hermione takes it like a champion. He coughs again and she takes his hand to lead him deeper onto the dancefloor. His hand brushes against her ass multiple times as they weave through the crowd, and he looks at the back of her head with anticipation. He follows her hungrily until he's had enough and deftly spins her around to face him. He catches her and presses her to his chest. Well, that drink has certainly left me feeling looser.
This time, Draco initiates the dancing, pressing his pelvis into her, his half hard cock showing her exactly how relaxed he's feeling. She smirks familiarly at the contact and reaches up to whisper softly to him."Careful now, muggle nightclubs may be out of your depth, but we still tend to stop ourselves before diving into exhibitionism. That is left to the privacy of a locked bathroom stall," she chuckles. He groans."Fucking muggles and all your rules," he says as his mouth closes in on hers. They kiss for a long moment until Hermione turns her back to him. He frowns until he realizes she's not moving away but rather pressing her backside into his aching groin. Her arm wraps up and pulls his head down until he's in striking distance of her neck. Draco groans at this development and she rewards him by pressing herself further into him, restarting the same swaying he's been eyeing greedily all night. He bites the delicate flesh under her ear and hears her dulcet moans. Pressing into her, he digs his fingers into her hips, holding her close and directing her gyrations. He rumbles into her ear."What did you put in that drink, you witch. You've cursed me."Hermione leans her head back onto his shoulder to respond."Are you suggesting that you need to be cursed in order to feel attracted to me? We really should have discussed this before getting married."Draco growls and captures her lips with his starving, greedy, selfish mouth.
Never. Never in a million years. You, alone, are everything I need for the rest of time.
Lust courses through him as she dances on him, quickly evolving his hard-on into a full boner. He pulses into her until he feels himself leak into his trunks."And where is this bathroom stall you mentioned?" He sees her eyes light up at the question and she spins around. The eyes that look at him belong to the devil himself. She pulls him into a deep kiss, tongue aplenty. She takes a few steps backwards, gripping onto Draco's biceps. She leads him backwards across the club until her back hits a swinging door, never breaking their contact. Impressive, really. She pushes the door open with her hip, leading him inside the garish bathroom. Too many lights and too many fake plants line the room. A slanted vanity mirror sits atop the marble countertops. A lingering pair of women gasp and whistle as they exit the bathroom. Hermione, embarrassed, separates herself from a pathetically panting Draco. She flushes, standing until they fully leave the room. She takes a beat and relaxes, moving towards the sink. Draco grumbles, fumbling his hands behind him until he finds the lock, unwilling to stop watching her. He clicks it shut. Draco prowls towards his wife, standing demurely at the counter. My wife.He reaches where she stands, gently placing his hands on either side of her, trapping her between his body and the marble.
"I have more questions about this scandalous thing you call a dress..." he says, voice heavy with need. He leans in and sucks at the tender spot at the base of her neck.
"I remember. We didn't really get around to answering those, did we?" she whispers."No, we didn't," he lifts his head to look at her again. His dark eyes penetrate her gaze. "Where did you get it?
When did you get it?" He continues his attack on the hollow of her throat."Ginny... She- she took me to a store in muggle London about a week before the wedding. Said this might come in handy during the honeymoon.""Fuck. I don't think I even have the money to repay her for this gift." Draco's fingers slip under the hem of the dress and his teeth reclaim Hermione's neck. She brings a hand to her mouth to stifle the truly unladylike sighs that escape her lips. He takes both hands and lifts her so she's sitting on the counter now. He wastes no time in finding her soaking entrance and sliding one, two fingers inside. He swallows her whimper, pressing his mouth to hers and kissing her roughly. While his fingers work her from the inside, his other hands snakes its way up her front to her breast. She arches into him, encouraging his assault on her flesh. Still kissing her, he rushes his hand under her low neckline, releasing her tits from their prison. No bra... You really are trying to kill me.
He moans in explicit approval. He tweaks her nipple as he picks up the pace inside her. He bites her lower lip, begging her for something he's not quite sure of, himself.Draco surrendered his very being to her a decade ago and it still doesn't feel like enough. He craves every cell in her body all the time. His signet ring circles her clit and she bucks against his hand. His lithe hands learned how to torture her years ago. He gets her writhing under him with ease, exactly where he wants her. Needs her."Fuck, Draco. Please. Take me," she mewls. Anything, always for you.
His mantra plays on repeat. He would be embarrassed about his addiction to her if she didn't wholly match him. Addicted to every rush. Burning like the sun when they touch each other. If he didn't physically have to stop, he thinks he could dedicate lifetimes devoted to her pleasure. Never slipping in his devotion to her body, her mind, her soul. Figuratively, Draco lives his life on his knees in devotion to the witch in front of him. Most days, physically too.
He guides her off the counter onto her feet again and spins her around. They both face the mirror. Sweat has mussed up Draco's carefully styled coif and he looks downright pornographic right now. His blown-out eyes burning the deepest shades of silver, his unbuttoned shirt sitting wrinkled on his torso, pink flushing his cheeks. He drinks in the mirrored image of his wife, too. Dress riding up, tits out, matching eyes, but in shades of gold.
Draco expertly undoes his belt buckle, shoving his trousers and trunks to the ground. He's painfully hard, the liquor in his system having no effect on his soul-deep need for Hermione Granger-Malfoy. He lines himself up at her entrance, staring into her eyes through the mirror. She nods at him.
"Please," she begs. She hums in indulgence as he presses himself inside. His foul groan fills the silence.Draco takes her from behind. His left hand grips the marble counter while his right goes back to work on her exposed breasts. He massages the supple tissue to the sounds of their skin meeting. He knows he won't last long. From the looks of it, Hermione won't either. He speeds up as he fucks her against the bathroom sink. He leans forward and lavishes her neck with his tongue. Her hips meet his new pace, circling against him. Her hand reaches back and grips his hair again. He looks up to watch his wife get railed in the mirror. Her eyes are pressed closed, and she breathes in time with his relentless pumping. Her eyes open slightly and find his face watching her. She bites her lip and moans. For show maybe, but he commits every second to memory. He groans in approval."Fuck, Hermione." He's getting dangerously close. He maintains their eye contact."Draco."
"I- Fuck, I love you Hermione.""I love you, Draco.""I love you.""I love you."They alternate singing their adorations for each other until she clenches around him. She moves to bite her hand and stifle her noises, but he rips her hand away.
"No. Sing for me," he demands. She cries out as she comes around Draco's cock. He's getting sloppy as he reaches his climax, erratically pulsing into her still-twitching cunt. He reaches his peak and absorbs the sight, sounds, and tastes of her, pouring his release into her. He stills and grunts into her neck. Hermione takes over and rides his cock, milking out every drop he has to offer. He shivers and breathes against her skin."I fucking love muggle clubs, Hermione."She laughs and it rings through the room. He slowly pulls himself out and leans against the counter to support his weight. She bends over and plucks his Hawthorn wand from his trouser pocket. She cleans up the mess between them and sets it down on the counter. She shimmies her dress back into place."Well, lucky for you, there are quite literally thousands of them to go around," she coos. She cups his face in her soft hands. He stares at her, willing his expression to convey the depths of his worship towards her. He pulls his trousers back on and replaces his belt. He leaves a soft kiss on her temple, and with a snap of wandless magic, unlocks the bathroom door. He holds a hand out, and she eagerly take it in hers.
"Well, how about we go find them, yeah?" He smirks.She suppresses a chuckle and lets him guide her through the door, following her Dragon. He ignores the frowning line of people formed outside the door and smiles to himself.