Stormy Eyes (A Dramione Fanfiction)

Romeo and Juliet

"Oh really, what a pity," she smirked back as he walked closer to her, his cologne tickling my nose.
"What a pity," he repeated, gently tucking a stray hair behind her tiny ear. His hand then travelled to underneath her chin, where he tilted her head up and kissed her slowly.

It was a sweet, slow kiss that quickly turned into them passionately making out.

He walked back and sat on his bed, and she straddled his lap and continued the kiss. His hands were at her waist holding her gently like she was the most valuable thing in the world.

He whispered sweet nothings into her ear and she blushed even more somehow. Then their lips locked again.

She felt him getting hard beneath her, and she broke the kiss.
"Whats wrong love?" he asked gently, his eyes sparkling as he looked at her. It wasn't lust: it was pure love and admiration for Hermione.

And she knew now that she loved him to.

He realised what was wrong as she shyly looked down then back up at his face.
"Its okay, we can stop here if you want," he said before kissing the tip of her nose sweetly.
"No I want to carry on," she said as she gulped: she knew she wanted this.

"Are you sure? Once your virginity is gone you can't take it back," he said, his arms snaking round her to pull her into a hug.
"I'm sure," she smiled.

They continued the passionate kiss, him gently unzipping her dress and taking it off her as she unbuttoned his shirt. She unbuckled his trousers and pulled them down; leaving them both in just their underwear.

He carefully laid her down on the bed as if she was fragile, and then leant over her, his strong arms supporting him.
"Wow," he whispered to himself as he looked down at Hermione, and she giggled. She pulled his head to hers and their lips met: and they then stripped each other off completely.

"Are you still sure you want to do this?" he asked, kissing her softly, as he realised she looked slightly scared.
"Yes," she smiled up at him as he planted a final kiss on her cheek.
"I'll be gentle darling," he whispered as he held her.

She closed her eyes: knowing it would hurt a lot. Her hair lay around her on the pillow like a halo.

She felt him slowly enter her, and her breath hitched in pain.
"Are you okay? I don't want to hurt you," he whispered.
"I'm fine," she replied, her eyes fluttering open as he did it again, and the pain slowly turned into pleasure.

He leant over her and kissed her sweetly.

"Am I hurting you?" he asked.
"No, I'm fine love," she smiled.

They carried on like that, making love gently as the breeze rippled through the open curtains. The moonlight illuminated their figures like a renaissance painting.

She was glad he had cast a silencing charm in the room. The manor was so big they both doubted they would be overhead by Narcissa anyway; but it wasn't a risk they were willing to take.

They came at the same time, and he pulled out and lay next to her: pulling her close to him gently.
"That was amazing," he said softly as he kissed her.
"Thank you for not hurting me," she replied.
"I love you," he said, his eyes shining as he looked at her messy hair, and the blush on her face.

"I love you too," she smiled, as he pulled his satin sheets over them and she settled in his arms, drifting into a fulfilling sleep.

They woke up the next morning with her head on his toned chest. The breeze blew lightly through his open window, fluttering the curtains. She smiled as she remembered the previous night, and then she snuggled into his warm body.
"Morning love," he said in his husky morning voice.
"Good morning," she replied in a whisper, sitting up and moaning in pain at how sore she was.

"Wait a minute, I'll run a bubble bath," he said as he got up. She rolled over to where he had been laying moments before, getting comfortable.

After a few minutes she put on a red satin bath robe, and walked through to his grand ensuite.

She sat on his lap in the bath and he wrapped his arms gently around her as they read Romeo and Juliet together: he admitted it had always been a favourite of his since his mother gave a copy to him to teach him what love was.

It was perfect: she knew she was desperately in love with him. Hermione sighed, completely and utterly content.