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Draco cursed Napoleon Bonaparte under his breath as he looked at the piles of correspondence and bills littering his desk. The war had made a mess of his affairs. As the Duke of Wiltshire, it was his responsibility to keep all of his estates running smoothly. He flipped through the needs of his staff and tenant farmers with care. The invitations and complaints from the House of Lords were gathered up and ignored.
Just as he put his seal to an envelope, a knock sounded at his study door.
“Enter,” Draco said as he picked up a letter from Arthur Wellesley. The Duke of Wellington was Arthur Weasley’s distant cousin of some perverse nature and had been campaigning to get the Weasley patriarch an invitation to the exclusive Malfoy masquerade set to open the London season.
The thought of seeing Ronald Weasley in his house made his stomach churn, but he could hardly deny a war hero.
One of the footmen walked into the study. “Your Grace, the carriage is ready.”
Draco’s grey eyes lit up. “Is the Duchess ready?”
“Yes, sir. Her Grace is waiting in the carriage.”
Draco’s heart raced. All thoughts of paperwork were forgotten as he rushed about with as much decorum as possible.
It was time.
With the London season starting soon, arrangements had been made to get the Malfoy townhouse in proper order. Select servants were sent from the Manor to prepare the residence in Mayfair last week. All that remained was to arrive.
And arrive they would. Draco admired the grandness of his dark green town coach as he approached. It was a new carriage—a wedding gift from his mother—and had yet to be used. It was massive. Six decorated black horses stood patiently at the front. The Malfoy crest was painted on both sides of the carriage. It was a fine day, but the curtains were drawn on all of the windows. One of the coachmen, dressed in silver and black livery, opened the door for him.
When Draco climbed inside, his mouth fell open at the sight of his wife.
Hermione was waiting for him.
Naked.
As instructed.
All she wore were jewels. A glittering necklace of emeralds sat above her breasts and her wedding ring sparkled on her finger. Her hair was down, her curls long enough to cover her back. The diamond diadem she wore atop her head made her look more like a queen than a duchess.
Draco tried to swallow as the carriage door was closed softly behind him. He took a seat opposite her, words lost to him.
Hermione, fanning herself slowly, acknowledged him with a raised eyebrow. The fan covered and uncovered her breasts repeatedly, giving Draco small glimpses of her pink nipples.
“I’ve followed your orders. Have you followed mine?” Hermione asked in the assertive tone Draco loved.
He took his favourite cock ring out of his pocket as the carriage started moving. For a moment, the carriage was quiet. Draco waited in anticipation.
“Good boy. Now put it on,” Hermione said, her voice raised to be heard over the clop, clop, clop of the horse hooves outside.
Draco could feel himself beginning to strain against his trousers and made quick work of the garments. His cock sprang free as his trousers and drawers fell around his ankles.
While he was still only semi-erect, Draco slid the ring over his hardening length. Hermione’s eyes followed the practised movement of his fingers as he worked the ring over each of his balls.
Draco’s breath caught at the tight sensation. His eyes lifted to see Hermione’s blank expression. He squirmed.
“May I touch myself?” Draco asked, his hands resting on top of his thighs.
Hermione frowned and gave him an expectant look.
Draco bit his lip. “...May I touch myself, Your Grace?"
He was a duke. It was beneath his station to address her in such a way. Only those inferior to Hermione would speak to her in that manner.
The words felt wrong.
He was lowering himself.
Draco’s erection grew larger.
Hermione’s frown softened, but her stern expression remained. “You shall not. You are only permitted to watch.”
Draco clenched his fists to stop from taking himself in his own hand.
He hadn’t had any kind of release for weeks. Was she going to make him wait even longer?
Hermione closed her fan with a sudden snap. Her breasts, now bared to him completely, bounced as the carriage jostled onto another road.
She ran the fan across one nipple and moaned.
Draco saw her nipples tighten as she made the fan twirl around the other bud.
She opened her eyes and gave Draco a flat look. “I’m feeling rather cross,” Hermione said, each word breathy. “You kept me waiting.”
Draco’s eyes dropped to between Hermione’s legs. He knew how sensitive her nipples were. He knew she would be wet by now.
“Forgive me, Your Grace,” Draco replied, the words difficult to get out as the fan travelled down, down, down. “I needed to finish a few matters before our departure.”
Hermione used the fan to play with herself. She pressed the ridges of the fan against her clitoris and threw her head back at the pleasure.
Draco licked his lips and thought he would die.
“You’ll— nghh! —be the one waiting soon enough,” Hermione said as she worked herself quickly.
Draco began rocking his hips helplessly at her wanton display.
Once she seemed satisfied, Hermione threw the fan at him. Draco caught it easily, puzzled.
“Fan yourself,” Hermione commanded, her chest rising and falling rapidly.
Curious, Draco did as he was told.
The smell of her wet cunt blew all over him. The cool air on his cock made him shiver.
“God, Hermione—” Draco said, overwhelmed by the scent of her wafting over him.
Nothing smelled as delectable as his wife’s soppy, little pussy.
He was going to go mad if he couldn’t have her soon.
“I’ve given you something,” Hermione said, opening her legs a little wider. “Shall I not receive anything in return?”
Draco could see more of her now. She was so pink it drove him to distraction. Draco’s mind was hazy with want, but he understood what she was asking for.
He’d give her anything.
After putting the fan down, Draco wriggled his silver signet ring off of his finger. The serpents curling around the Malfoy coat of arms gleamed in the sunlight filtering through the curtains.
Draco’s eyes caught Hermione’s dark gaze as he handed her the ring. When she took it, her fingers ghosted over his and he sucked in a breath at the feel of her skin.
He hadn’t been touched in so long.
He ached between his legs.
Hermione placed the signet ring on her own finger and began rubbing the heirloom against her clit. She keened at the feeling and the sinful sound rang in Draco’s ears.
Draco watched, mesmerised, as she lifted her hips to meet her hand. She made the ring move over herself in tight little circles. Hermione closed her eyes and swore.
“Oh, fuck I’m so wet— ” Hermione cried out, her eyelashes fluttering. She rubbed herself faster and faster and—
Draco couldn’t help it. He whimpered.
It was a pathetic noise caught in his throat. Hermione opened her eyes and gave him a mean smile.
“You’re already making a mess and you haven’t even touched yourself yet,” Hermione said, clearly unimpressed.
Draco looked down at his cock with embarrassment. Precum was steadily leaking down his shaft. He was so hard he thought he would burst then and there.
Could she make him come without being touched? Would she punish him if he did?
The thought made more precum seep out.
Hermione laughed as he blushed bright red.
“May I touch myself now, Your Grace?” Draco asked.
Please. Please. Please.
“Not yet,” Hermione hissed, her hips moving frantically against the ring.
Draco fidgeted, but obeyed.
Just when he thought she was going to come, she pulled her hand back.
“Come closer,” Hermione managed to say in between heavy breaths as she wiped away a light sheen of sweat coating her forehead.
Draco didn’t need telling twice. He got on the floor of the carriage and kneeled between her legs. Hermione arranged her dripping cunt in front of his face.
The scent of her overwhelmed him again. He pressed his nose into her folds and sniffed her. She inhaled sharply and he groaned at how wet his nose was because of her.
He breathed her in again, completely lost to all reason.
“Go on then. Lick me.” Her words were spoken in the husky tone she used when she was desperate.
Draco didn’t hesitate.
He lapped at her lips first. His tongue glided over the soft skin he found there, parting each lip with gentle strokes. Hermione whined as his tongue went deeper.
She tasted divine. His eyes closed as he kissed her soaked entrance.
“Yes, yes, yes!” Hermione chanted, bucking her hips against his face.
Draco’s cock was weeping more precum, but he ignored it.
He licked slowly, avoiding her clit. It was enlarged and begging to be touched. Draco only blew over it, keeping his tongue busy all around the glistening nub.
“Christ—!” Hermione moaned. She was writhing and Draco put his hands on her hips to still her.
He redoubled his efforts, rearing back enough to spit on her. She flinched and he did it again. He swirled his tongue, quicker than before. His spit mixed with her arousal as he swiped through her folds, making sure to touch every part of her.
He still refused to acknowledge her clit.
Very gently, he took one of her lips into his mouth. He sucked on it, only allowing a hint of his teeth to graze the delicate flesh.
“Unghh!”
A new wave of wetness dribbled down his chin.
She was so close he could almost taste her orgasm.
Finally, Draco gave her clit a featherlight stroke of his tongue. He barely touched her and she screamed.
Warm come dripped from her cunt and Draco slurped every drop, greedy for the flavour of her.
He kissed her until she shifted away.
Draco wasn’t done with her.
He moved up, dipping his tongue into her navel.
“Oh…” Hermione whispered as he licked a path between her full, heaving tits.
She did not stop him.
Draco suckled at her nipples, enjoying the way they hardened into peaks because of his mouth.
He was painfully hard, but he stopped himself from rutting against the seat.
He wanted to, though. So badly.
But Hermione hadn’t told him he could.
Surely he could refrain for a little longer?
Hermione leaned forward and kissed him. Draco shivered at the thought that she must taste herself on his tongue. She deepened the kiss, allowing her tongue to flick over his. Draco could have melted from the feel of it.
Hermione pushed Draco back into his seat and climbed into his lap. Not breaking eye contact, Hermione grabbed his cock and began jerking him slowly.
Draco saw stars as she applied more pressure to her grip.
“Fuck! Just like that,” Draco said, nearing the edge of oblivion because of her hand. She smeared his precum from the tip to the base, twisting at the top just the way he liked.
Before Draco knew what was happening, Hermione took him inside of her in one fluid motion.
Draco’s mouth fell open at the sudden warmth surrounding his throbbing cock.
Hermione bounced on him, her perky tits swinging right in front of his face as she moved.
The sound he made was so humiliating he closed his mouth in an effort to keep quiet.
Hermione ran a hand through his blond hair and tugged at the silky strands.
“Let. Me. Hear. You.” Each word was punctuated by the slamming of her hips as she rode him hard and fast.
Draco’s balls tightened.
He dared not hold back.
“Ah!”
“So good. So—”
“Yes. Use my cock. Please, please, pl—”
Draco hadn’t even realised his eyes had closed, but when she softly squeezed his balls, his eyes shot open.
“Unff!”
Hermione slowed her pace and squeezed again.
“I’m so close,” Draco said through gritted teeth, fucking into her without rhythm. His hands were all over her as she rocked above him, her curls wild around her.
Without warning, Hermione moved off of him and retreated back to her seat across from him.
Draco blinked. His cock was stiff and wet from Hermione’s slick heat and he already missed her pussy pulsing around him.
Hermione managed a condescending look as she tried to catch her breath.
“Did you honestly think I would let you come inside me?" Hermione shook her head, making him feel like a fool for entertaining such a thought.
Draco tried to find the right words, but all thought had left him.
“I apologise for my presumption, Your Grace.” Draco hoped that would be enough, because he needed release.
He needed to come.
Hermione leaned back. “Finish in your own hand while I watch.”
Her voice was haughty and bored, nearly sending him over the precipice with her tone alone.
Draco was so desperate, he immediately began tugging at himself with abandon. He thrusted into his tightly closed fist and let out a deep moan.
“That’s it, Draco. Let go.”
He barely heard Hermione over his own laboured breathing.
“Oh, God!”
“Let it all go,” Hermione said as she slipped her fingers inside of herself, taking in the sight of her husband unravelling in front of her hungrily.
His balls were heavy as he watched Hermione’s fingers disappear inside of her cunt over and over and over—
“I’m going to—” Draco couldn’t even finish his sentence. The pleasure was mounting beyond his control. He let his other hand fondle his ballsack and let out a shaky breath.
“Yes, fuck yourself. Don’t stop,” Hermione instructed as she used the signet ring against herself again.
Draco gripped his balls again and lightly squeezed in time with his other hand sliding over the sensitive head of his cock.
Choking on a cry, Draco came all over himself. Hot, white spurts of thick come shot out, landing on his hands and stomach.
Draco saw Hermione join him, coming on his signet ring as she called out for him.
They stared at each other as they tried to calm their pounding hearts.
“You’ve ruined your clothes,” Hermione said once she’d recovered from her second orgasm.
Draco took off the cock ring and gave her a small shrug. “I’ve plenty more packed."
Hermione hummed thoughtfully. “We have quite some time before we arrive home."
She bit her lip as she stared at his cock.
Draco began to harden again.
“It would appear you need to be licked clean,” Hermione said, crawling toward his messy lap as he smirked at her.
The carriage rocked all the way to London.