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Draco tapped his pen against the clipboard and hissed upon burning his tongue with a sip of the hot, bitter coffee his intern had brought him that morning. The first rounds of his shift were always the easiest part of the day; most patients were under sleeping potions, and the check-ups ran smoothly–except for Tuesdays and Thursdays when he had the students from the healer academy to teach.
Luckily for him, that day was a Monday. And there were only fourteen patients in his list.
One of the names caught his attention, and he decided to leave her for last.
Draco strolled down the sterile white corridors, sweeping inside the rooms and running his diagnosis charms without a second thought. The ground floor usually housed short-stay patients, healing from a nasty encounter with a magical artefact. They were promptly treated and spent the night mostly for observation. There wasn’t really anything bad for him to encounter, so he let his mind linger… If he were to be honest, Draco was finding himself getting hot and bothered just thinking about her, the collar of his shirt grazing against his neck in an irritating way that forced him to tug it several times.
Hermione Granger.
As he made his way towards her room, he reread her chart: the witch had tried to set up a magical rocking chair for her seven-month-old baby, and the entire thing had exploded on her. Luckily, the child hadn’t been around at the time, but Granger had been reckless. Couldn’t she have waited for her husband to do the heavy work for her?
No, not Granger. Stubborn little thing she was.
It had been like that all throughout her pregnancy; healer Shafiq would sometimes complain about her in the staffroom when she thought she and healer Fawley were alone. How Granger refused to take the early leave, working until past her due date. How she wouldn’t listen to the resting instructions, and arrived with swollen ankles and back pains. How she was the worst pregnant witch the healer had ever dealt with.
Draco disagreed with her professional assessment. Granger was the best pregnant witch he had ever seen.
She’d always been beautiful, of course; a huge arse he used to watch swaying under those too-long skirts from Hogwarts’s uniform. Draco even started to sit in the front of class to get a better look at her breasts bouncing as she raised her hand to answer teachers’ questions.
But pregnancy had made her something else entirely–it had enhanced each one of her qualities. Her hips widened to house a baby inside her womb, her breasts swelled with milk, doubling in size, her mane of curls grew longer and wilder, and her skin glowed like gold.
Even Shafiq had to admit her labour was something else; fast and, not only was it pain-free, but orgasmic, too. Leave it to Granger to research and test the benefits of nipple and clitoral stimulation–the minx even published an article about it while in her puerperium.
A witch like that ought to be pregnant all the time. She had the right genes for it, perhaps.
Draco would spend all of his days taking care of her, rubbing her feet, kneading her sore back, and filling her with babies. Merlin, he would do it in a heartbeat.
Entering the room, he watched her.
She, too, was under heavy sleeping potions, which granted him the privacy to admire her form. The weight from the pregnancy had mostly gone, which wasn’t exactly his preference; he liked her plump and soft. But some of it had lingered; her belly was still puffy and…
Draco gasped.
After around eighteen hours of internation, and away from her nursing baby, Granger’s breasts were engorged, full of milk. Should she be awake, it would certainly be painful, with those bulging veins spreading over the hard surface, almost pulsating. She was covered by the bedsheets and the standard grey nightgown of patients, but he could see through the opening of the surplice neckline how flushed her skin was there.
He had sworn an oath upon graduating from the healing academy; he would do anything in his power to free people from harm and pain. Clogged milk ducts could lead to mastitis, a dangerous condition both for her and her infant, he cited in his head while placing the clipboard on the bedside table and sitting at her side, the mattress dipping with his weight.
Granger looked so peaceful in her sleep. Her brows weren’t furrowed, nor was her nose scrunched in the haughty expression she usually held in front of him. No, this intimate side of her was gentle, soft and pliant–he loved it so much that he wanted to cherish that moment.
Instead of diving straight to the massage that would milk her clogged ducts, he ran a featherlight caress from her wrists to her shoulders, watching in awe as the fine hairs of her body stood in goosebumps. His blood rushed south, forcing him to shift on his seat.
From her shoulders, Draco drew a simple twirling pattern with his fingertips over her collarbones and exposed cleavage, relishing in how her breathing pattern changed and how pink hues tinted her cheeks. He followed the blush with his thumb, and Granger’s lips parted.
He brushed his digit over her lips, noticing how dry they were.
It was natural for him to dip his head and lick the seam of her mouth, wetting the cracks. He could swear a gentle sigh caressed his lips back. Encouraged by it, Draco kissed down her chin, dropping soft pecks across her jaw until the point right below her ear, at the edge of the bone.
Her throat worked, muscles moving, and he chased it with kisses that were now wet, open-mouthed and languid down her neck, until the deep between her collarbones. That was when he used his fingers to slowly, smoothly push the sides of her gown open. Her breast was hard as a rock, swollen, pulsating and dripping with white honey.
His patience ran out, and Draco licked a straight line towards her nipple, flicking his tongue only once before closing his mouth around the hard, brown peak and sucking it.
Desperate for release, her breast started to leak–no, it started to pour milk into his mouth. Fat, rich, hot and sweet, it flowed over his tongue, straight to his throat, feeding him in more than one way. Like a hungry man, Draco’s hands flew to her ribcage, supporting him as he nursed, his eyes fixed on her beautiful heart-shaped face.
He knew she’d needed that, and just to confirm it, Granger moaned in her sleep. It was light and breathy, the relieving sensation of emptying what was turgid, heavy and achy. Her chest moved as she inhaled more freely, without the pressure. Draco’s cock was painfully hard, squeezed inside his boxers and forcing him to adjust his thighs to better accommodate the volume.
It was neither his satisfaction nor the full emptying of that side that prompted him to switch, but rather the fact that Granger’s other breast had been so swollen that, upon his stimulation, it had begun squirting a jet of milk, forming a little arc in the air over her nipple and then falling to soak her gown.
Always the overachiever that Granger, her baby was already eating solid food, and she still produced enough for triplets.
He snatched the shooting bud and instead of sucking, focused on sweeping it with his tongue inside his mouth, the milk filling his cheeks and sliding deliciously down his throat, while he continued fondling with her other nipple, milk serving as a lubricant for his thumb and index finger.
Quickly, Granger was stirring under him. He glanced down and noticed that her knees had moved, rubbing her thighs against each other.
Poor thing, he thought, she needs release there, too.
Letting go of her breast with a loud pop, he pushed her covers to the side and kissed his way down her belly, making sure to whisper against her skin how wonderful she was to have created and cultivated life there, tracing the stretch marks with his tongue until he was met with the elastic band of her knickers.
They were plain, white and practical, but damp with her arousal. The musky scent flooded his system and awakened a raw, primal part of him. Draco couldn’t wait to pull the fabric down.
He opened his mouth, gathering as much of her as possible inside, and then licked between her plump folds. Granger’s legs parted naturally to accommodate him, and, still connected, lapping through the cotton, he moved his body to stand between her thighs.
Only then did he push her knickers down, disconnecting for only a split second to push it past her before he dove in again, long strokes as his hands did the rest of the work to free her of the underwear.
Granger was now squirming, puffs of air leaving her in mewls. Against Draco’s lips, her clit grew, engorged and ripe. He pulled back, bringing two long fingers to rest over her folds and parted them to better expose her cunt.
What a beautiful sight it made for him, deep red, glistening with arousal and salive, pulsing with desire and calling him in. To think that the same spot that had served to welcome a new soul into their world was now welcoming him made Draco’s cock twitch painfully in his trousers.
Draco placed one palm over it, rubbing and squeezing for reprieve, as he continued his assault on Granger’s pussy. Salazar, it was delicious. He alternated between long strokes with the flat of his tongue over the entire length and quick, sharp licks to tickle her clit.
He wanted to push past her cunt, feel it clench around him; he knew she wanted it, too, could sense her walls clamping around nothing, as if calling him, desperate to be filled. But he was determined to follow the right order of things, and Granger could reach orgasm with only his mouth. So he closed his lips around the peaking bud, hot, engorged and pulsing… and sucked.
A loud moan escaped Granger’s lips, her entire body pulling taut before her weight dropped heavily back on the mattress, shuddering in waves of pleasure as he continued to lap her. Only when she began to squirm, overstimulated, did he lean back and push a finger inside.
His eyes rolled back at how warm, tight and wet she was. He took his time circling the entrance, drawing a spiral until his index was fully sated. She clenched rhythmically around him, and he moaned, “Good, Granger, you’re so fucking good.”
She couldn’t hear him; he knew that, but it was almost like she could with the way her body shivered under the praise. He smirked, placing his free hand over her womb, his thumb rubbing back and forth under her navel.
On the way out, he curled his finger so that it dragged over her front wall, her body jerking lightly upon the stimulation of her G-spot. It made his cock throb, and he repeated the motion. In, out, in out, until her breathing quickened again, heat gathering in and radiating from her core.
When her juices were enough to slide down his hand, dampening his sleeve, he added a second finger, and Granger’s hands clutched the fabric of her bedsheet. Draco froze, looking up from where he had been entranced by her cunt. She was still asleep, but now there was a furrow between her brows and that beautiful agony expression of one who is building up a second orgasm.
Could he do it? Could he bring her to completion before she woke up?
He glanced at the clock on the wall; almost seven. He had a few minutes, and it fueled him to go all in. A third finger joined the other two, fucking her with his hand, and his thumb went to rest over her clit, just following the movement. It took him less than a minute, and Granger howled majestically, the sound echoing around the room and making him almost come in his trousers.
But Draco couldn’t waste his seed. Not when he could sense her womb fluttering under his palm, claiming his sperm for itself, desperate to be filled and to gestate another baby. Even if Granger was unconscious, her body was alert and flared in desire to be bred. Her skin was flushed, nipples peaked and leaking milk, cunt pulsing, and a long, drawn-out sigh still escaping her plump, rosy lips.
His eyes swept once again to confirm that he had barely a couple of minutes left, but it was all he needed: pressure thumping the veins of his cock, nearly ripping the fabric of his briefs. He needed to be inside her, and it wouldn’t take long for him to pump her full.
He quickly sat back on his haunches, sliding the rest of the cover out of her, revealing the black thigh-high black socks she had been wearing. A compression measure that was standard in the hospital to ensure they wouldn’t have problems with circulation, unnecessary in her case, but–
Draco shook himself back to focus, cupping the back of her knees and pushing them up until they were close to her breasts. He brought one hand to free himself, aligning the beading head with her swollen, drenched entrance. As soon as he felt the heat of her on his most sensitive spot, a loud groan left his mouth, and Hermione’s eyelids fluttered.
Throwing away his last shred of self-restraint, he rolled his hips, pushing inside the warm, squeezing walls until his front hit hers, the tip of his cock softly bumping into her cervix and sending a jolt of electricity up his spine.
“Fucking heavens,” he grunted.
“You’re so good, Granger.”
He thrust inside her.
“Goddess divine.”
He gained speed.
“Best of my life.”
The witch’s breasts bounced with the impact, streams of milk gliding down towards her belly.
“Gonna fill you up–”
Soft moans danced between their breaths.
“You’ll have my baby, won’t you, darling?”
Just the thought of her swollen with his heir was enough to push him over the edge, and Draco snapped his hips two more times before growling and shooting thick, hot splurts of cum directly to her womb.
His head fell, and he indulged in lazy strokes of his tongue over the white threads of sweet milk spreading over her bronze skin. Until her breathing rhythm shifted and he noticed that she had woken up. The shock and realisation made her muscles tense underneath his mouth, and he had to hold himself not to bite her flesh right then.
“Healer Draco?” Granger’s voice was still thick and groggy. “What are you doing?”
His eyes jumped up to meet hers, and a devilish grin spread on his features. “Why, Mrs Granger, it would seem I have just impregnated you.”
Hermione stared at him, eyes narrowing before rolling up playfully, as she intertwined her fingers in his hair and tugged him back to mouth her breast. “Remind me again, Mr Granger, why did we have to do this at St Mungo’s and not the comfort of our home?”
He popped her nipple out of his mouth and said, “Because Potty and Weasel are babysitting Lyra in our home.”
She sighed, eyelids fluttering with the pleasure that came from nursing him. “Gods, you really had it all planned, didn’t you?”
“I told you,” he said, switching sides, “to wait for me to come home and take care of the rocking chair. It was too–”
“Risky,” she finished for him. “And then I said I could do it–”
He grazed her tip lightly with his teeth, making her squirm and moan loudly.
“Went as far as betting you could do it by yourself, didn’t you, darling wife?”
“Godric…” Hermione huffed, pushing him up. “When I said you could knock me up if I failed, I really didn’t think I would fail–”
He hummed, cupping her breasts and squeezing lightly, watching the milk pour, and brushing it with his thumb to smear all over her skin. “But you did.”
“Yes,” she whispered, stretching her arms above her head. “I love waking up with you inside me, so I guess it wasn’t a failure altogether…”
Granger hated to fail. He chuckled, leaning to kiss her slowly, devotedly, intensely. “We don’t know… It might still be, and we’ll have to keep trying…”
“How about now?” she asked. “I want to be on top, though.”
Draco helped her up, holding her by the waist until there was enough space on the bed for him to lie down.
Already up in her senses, Hermione passed a leg to the other side of his hips, straddling him and rubbing back and forth over his cock, coating him in the mixed juices that leaked from her swollen, sensitive cunt.
Using her hands on his chest to support herself, she undulated her spine and built up the tension between them, getting Draco hard as a rock again, and chasing the friction she needed on her clit.
He wanted to grab her arse and pull her to sit, impaled by his cock, but after their plays with somnophilia, his wife usually liked to take control over him, and Salazar, he adored it too.
If he could pick only one side of her, it would be this one: wild, rough and bossy.
When she decided it had been enough teasing, Hermione used one hand to grab his cock and guide it inside her. His hands immediately found the flesh of her arse, squeezing with gusto.
“Draco…” she moaned, leaning forward so her breast would be accessible to his mouth. He closed his lips around without waiting for her command, and sucked the sweet milk only his wife could produce. “Let’s make another baby.”
As if he would say no, a witch like that ought to be pregnant all the time.
