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Hermione stares up at the ceiling, breathing in deeply and letting it out slowly. A cool breeze from the open balcony doors wraps around her body and her skin pebbles. She shivers and closes her eyes as she brings her hands up to her neck to stroke long lines up and down her skin, imagining larger hands, longer fingers.

His fingers.

No.

Their fingers.

Her nails lightly scratch a path down to her breasts, circling the outer curves, moving inwards in a tease. She rubs her nipples, pinches them tightly until she can’t help the gasp that leaves her throat, and imagines mouths sucking, teeth biting. 

Just the thought makes her wet, makes her body flush.

She flattens her palms beneath her breasts, presses down as she skims down her stomach, feeling her abdomen clench when she rubs her thighs together in anticipation. Her hands pause over her mound, fingers drumming a staccato beat as she parts her thighs, bringing her feet to rest flat on the bed, her knees bent.

The anticipation mounts with every breath she takes.

Another breeze flows into the room, a cooler air than before, and it settles against slick skin. Hermione’s hips lift from the bed, moving in small circles as if begging for a touch.

Any touch.

But she waits.

She wants to hear it.

Hear them.

Heavy breathing echoes in the room, loud in her ear, and she’s starting to wonder if it’s just her anymore.

“Don’t be shy, love,” she finally hears. “Let us see that pretty pussy.”

Hermione bites her lip at the sound of Draco’s voice. Slowly, she walks her fingers down to her lips and parts them, sweeping a finger down to coat its tip before bringing it back up to settle on her clit, pressing down until the pressure forces a moan from her.

“We’re a lucky pair, aren’t we?”

She feels the bed dip near her feet and whimpers when hands part her knees further apart. There is a whisper of a spell and a low heat trails up her legs, down her thighs to her cunt. A strangled groan releases at the pleasurable burn that fills her.

“Draco.” She says his name like a prayer to the gods.

His low chuckle is a delicious sound that makes her press down harder on her clit. “That was all Theo, love. You know how he loves to watch you play.”

A mouth tastes the inside of her right knee and she recognizes the shape of Theo’s lips. He agrees with Draco, speaking “I do” into her smooth skin. “Will you let me watch you now, Hermione?”

She doesn’t answer.

Not verbally, at least.

Instead, she moves a hand down the slit of her pussy and dips a finger inside her body, once, twice, and on the third stroke, she pushes in as much as she can from her position. The sound of Theo’s whispered “fuck, yes” urges her on and she slips a second finger inside. It’s a slow ride, one that has her hips lifting and swaying as she finds pleasure in her own touch. She’s aware of Theo’s hand palming its way up her thigh, squeezing and massaging like he’s trying to stop himself from joining her.

A small but sharp sting of a bite on her left leg jolts her out of her almost-trance and she frowns at Draco. He licks at the bite to soothe it but raises an eyebrow.

“Let me taste you,” he requests.

Hermione pauses her ministrations on her body and moves her hand toward Draco. Licking his lips, he surges up on his knees, wraps a hand around the offered wrist, and slides her fingers into his mouth, sucking at the sweet tang that coats them. His tongue wraps around them, slides it into the space between, until she whimpers his name in want, need.

She lifts up, and brings her free hand around Draco’s neck, pulling his face close to hers. Her eyes focus on his mouth, on glistening lips around her fingers. As he slides them out, dragging his teeth lightly on her skin, he breathes warm air over them.

And she pushes forward and kisses him, biting at his bottom lip, nearly begging for him to lick into her mouth. She can taste herself on his tongue, on his lips. As Draco traces the top of her breasts, Theo loosely takes her hand, keeping hold of it as he shifts on the bed so he’s at her side. He dips his head down and sucks the skin of her throat where her pulse beats. He cups her hand and brings it back down between her legs, pushing their joined fingers back into her body.

Hermione feels overheated, full, and she shamelessly drapes her right leg over Theo’s lap, wrapping his arm tighter over her body as she fingers herself with both of their hands. She pulls away from Draco to catch her breath and her free hand grips harder at the back of his neck as she seeks leverage to thrust up, wanting the touch deeper, so much deeper.

Draco smirks when he sees Theo’s eyes glued to the space between Hermione’s legs. Theo’s gaze is unwavering and he’s breathing sharply as he watches the way his and Hermione’s entwined fingers fuck her at an almost leisurely pace. Both men can see the desperation on her face, her silent plea for more.

“Tell us what you want,” Draco says, a tease in his tone.

He knows what she wants.

He always knows.

Hermione turns her face away from Draco, nudges her shoulder so Theo’s chin is no longer resting on her shoulder from when his attention moved from her neck to her cunt. When he lifts his face, Hermione stares into his eyes, a dare in the glinting brown of her irises.

“Fuck me.”

It’s a demand, one that makes Theo give her an almost-feral grin. Instead of saying anything right away, he looks at Draco, and the two have a silent conversation.

And Hermione knows she’s made a mistake.

Theo pauses the thrust of their fingers and she lets out a whine when he slips his from her body. She watches as he brings his hand up to his mouth and rests two wet fingers on his bottom lip. His tongue darts out and he gives an appreciative moan. When she whispers his name, he looks back to her while he swipes his fingers over his lips.

“It’s not polite to demand things, you know,” he says. Casually, he reaches his arm out and offers his two fingers to Draco, who nips at them before taking them into his mouth, sucking and trying to remember the last time he had Theo’s cock in there. 

Hermione tries to move, wants to climb onto Theo’s lap, but he stops her, pressing his arm down on her leg still over his lap. He gives her a Malfoy-worthy smirk. “Why don’t you finish what you started for me?”

“For us,” Draco corrects around Theo’s fingers.

They stare at her expectantly and a hot flash of annoyance flares up in Hermione. 

She knew when they started that they wanted a show.

So she’ll give them a show.

Without another word, she scoots back on the bed as much as she can while Theo still holds her, while Draco moves his hand to her stomach to keep her in place. Still sitting up, she brings her hand back down and easily slides one, two, three fingers up her cunt, curling them as she pumps them in, out, in, out.

Her eyes fall shut with every stroke. She pauses for a moment, stops to bring her hand up to her chest, and swipes a trail of wetness between her breasts, before continuing to fuck herself, two fingers in and the ball of her thumb pressing up against her clit.

It’s Draco who leans down to lick her essence from her breastbone, moaning at the taste of her. His mouth sucks tiny blooms of red across her chest until he sucks a nipple between his lips, biting gently. On the other side of her, Theo brings a hand to her neck, massages the muscles as she swallows, squeezing lightly when he sees her hand speed up, thrusting faster into herself.

“That’s it,” Theo urges her, his breath hot against her ear. “Does it feel good? Do you wish it was me fucking you? Or Draco?”

Hermione’s breath speeds up, matching her hand’s thrusts. Her eyes pop open when Theo’s hand tightens just a little bit more.

“Both,” she manages to say. “Both of you.”

She feels Draco smile against her breast, feels him lick her pebbled nipple. His hand slides from her stomach down to her pussy, fits itself between her mound and her hand so he can pinch her clit, rub it in tune with her fingers. He kisses his way up to her ear, mirroring Theo.

“It’s been a while since we’ve done that, love.” He nips at the space behind her ear, the spot that makes her shiver. “Is that what you want? Both of us fucking you at the same time? Can you take us together again?”

Hermione whimpers as she remembers when they first tried it. Her breathing races and her stomach clenches. She’d felt so full, so spread open. A third finger joins her fucking as she remembers sliding down over Theo’s dick, having her legs held wide so Draco could press his cock inside of her as well, moving slickly against Theo.

“Oh, she wants it,” Theo says with a dark chuckle. He had shifted to be able to see her better, and his eyes watch as the cum drips over Hermione’s hand. The sound of slapping flesh grows louder as Hermione’s pace quickens, bringing her closer and closer and -

Theo moves without warning, rearranges himself so he’s between her legs. He slides her hand out of her body, and leans in, spreading her lips and licking up her slit. Hermione jerks suddenly and Draco lets out a muttered, “Circe on a broomstick,” when her head collides with his.

Hermione’s breath catches at the feel of Theo’s mouth on her, his tongue diving deep. Draco moves his hand away from her clit, pressing down on her sternum in an effort to steady her. She feels her thighs begin to quake and begins to fall into Draco’s chest.

“That’s right,” Draco murmurs. “Do you like when Theo fucks you like this? I think you do, love. You’re so close. I can fucking feel it. Let him taste you. He wants it. Can you tell?”

“Yes,” she moans. Her legs draw closer together, her thighs keeping Theo in place. She leans into Draco, lifts her hips, and grinds against Theo’s mouth. A shattered yell, low and long, wraps around the three of them when Theo moves his lips to her clit, sucking while he fucks her with fingers that reach deep inside of her. Theo’s eyes look up at her and he sucks hard before pulling his face away, licking his lips. 

“No, no, don’t stop,” Hermione whines, her breath hitching when he pushes in deeper. “Theo.” When he continues to smirk up at her, Hermione turns her head and catches Draco’s mouth in a hurried kiss. “Draco, I need it. Please.”

“You heard the lady, Theodore,” Draco says, deep, commanding. Theo eyes him but lowers his head again, smiling against Hermione’s pussy when she lets out a squeal at his tongue pressed against her. Draco’s hand rests at the back of his head, fingers curling into his hair, as he works Hermione into a frenzy. “Good, Theodore, make her come, just like that.”

Hermione feels it again, the rush of fire in her veins, the settling of flames in her stomach and lower. There’s a constant suction on her clit, Theo’s mouth tight against the bud, and his fingers stroke her, a push and pull that makes her muscles shake and strain. Draco is hard against her side and she reaches for him, but he grabs her wrist and holds it flat against the bed, shaking his head at her.

Not yet, he mouths silently.

He leans back down to her ear. He promises her, “Later.”

Hermione doesn’t question it. She shuts her eyes and focuses on remembering how to breathe as she feels sparks start to bounce off of her skin.

“Let go,” Draco whispers. “You’re beautiful like this. Sexy. Powerful. I can’t wait to fuck your wet cunt. Theodore’s doing such a good job, getting you ready for me. When he’s done, I’m going to take you, fuck you into this bed, our bed, until you beg me to stop. But you won’t really want me to stop, will you?”

“No,” Hermione breathes, stretching her neck toward him. “Don’t stop.”

“Maybe I’ll let you ride me, let you take control for a bit.” He slides his hand from atop Theo’s hand to her thigh, her hip, then beneath her body. A finger grazes the line between her ass cheeks. “Perhaps Theodore will get you ready here, as well, get you wet and open for his cock.”

Hermione can feel it coming even faster. Her body is jerking in minute motions and she’s pushing her hips up, not letting Theo stop for a single second. Draco’s words are filling her with anticipation for the rest of the night and her hands are everywhere - touching herself, her stomach, her breasts, moving to the sheets, damp with sweat. 

She’s close, so close.

“Or maybe I’ll keep you under me, fuck you until you’re crying, until I know you’ll still feel me tomorrow.” Draco nips at the lobe of her ear. “Fuck you so hard, so deep.”

“Merlin, yes, please.”

“Deeper and harder because maybe I’ll have Theo fuck me tonight, have him push me so far into you that you won’t be able to move.”

It’s the image he describes, the idea of Theo driving deep into Draco while he holds her hips down that makes Hermione scream, makes her feel like she’s drowning. Words - their names, and pleas and jumbles of letters - spill from her lips until Draco covers her mouth with his own, stealing all of her sounds. 

She doesn’t know how long she lays there, boneless and pliant, with Draco kissing her and Theo swirling his tongue around her belly button, up to her chest, and back down. Hands stroke her skin, somehow calming her while making her want more. It’s Draco who shushes her when he finally pulls away, trailing long fingers down her body until they find Theo’s face, lifting him up.

Hermione watches as her lovers shift across the bed, over her body, and around until heat pools in her body when they kiss. She’s always loved the way they move together, a fluid dance of muscles that are never at odds with one another. She sits up again, feels the pull of her own muscles, and tilts her head. Theo’s hands are at Draco’s waist and he laughs lowly as Draco speaks to him in a hushed tone. 

“Secrets aren’t any fun,” Hermione says but she’s just teasing them. The smile on her face drops away when they turn to her, almost as if they had practiced the move. Both men have smirks, mirrored images of each other. “Oh.”

Draco moves to her, kneels in front of her as he once again spreads her legs. Her cunt is glistening from her orgasm and Theo’s mouth, but he still reaches down and swipes his fingers up, down, inside, making sure she can take him. Behind him, Theo runs a hand down his spine, muttering a spell that makes Draco flinch and throw an exasperated look over his shoulder.

“Can you take me?” Draco asks once he turns back to Hermione. She responds by lifting her leg so that her ankle rests on his shoulder. “You are perfect for us.”

Hermione grins up at him, at Theo who is watching her while he slides a wet finger inside Draco’s ass. She licks her bottom lip and lets out a groan when Draco nudges the head of his cock inside of her, breathes out his name as he slides in completely.

“Fuck me,” she demands. “Don’t hold back.”

It’s Theo who answers as Draco’s hips snap against Hermione’s, the sound of slapping flesh surrounding them.

“Never.”