The Watch

Chapter Seven

I serve my head up on a plate

It's only comfort calling late

Cause there's nothing else to do

Every me and every you

Every me and every you

Every me

Like the naked leads the blind

I know I'm selfish I'm unkind

Cause there's nothing else to do

Every me and every you

Placebo- Every me every you

'What is he to you?' she asked, unconsciously whispering.

'My enemy and father.'

Such a flat, bald declaration left no room for further questioning, but she tried. 'And you won't tell me how he has injured you.'

'It's not necessary for you to know that.'

Ginny was silent, continuing to gaze across the ice at the man who was the core of her misfortune throughout her teenage years. The hairs on the nape of her neck prickled, and a shudder rippled down her spine, but it was not the cold.

Excitement or apprehension, she didn't know. But then, the two were for the moment inextricable.

'Let's go.' Draco's calm voice sounded like a pair of cymbals crashing into the tight circle of her own thoughts.

'I promised you dinner,' he said smiling now, no mocking twist to his mouth, and a gleam in his eye that turned her knees to water.

'Where?' The question came out muffled, and she cleared her throat. 'Where should we have dinner?'

'Well, that depends on you, Miss Weasley.' The gleam in his eye intensified. 'I'm sure we could dine well enough in Ja'dores, if of course you agree. And I'll drive you back home afterward.'

'Then, again,' he continued in a musing tone, 'your clothes are hardly suitable, and the restaurant is popular with the Ministry Society. There's nothing more uncomfortable than feeling underdressed in such circumstances. You could always keep your cloak on, though... but that may make dinner rather awkward, don't you agree?'

'It might,' Ginny murmured equably, waiting with interest for this tortuous reasoning to reach its conclusion. It seemed Draco had his own plans for the evening, and this apparent desire to solicit her opinion was little more then a game.

'Of course we do have a great deal to discuss,' he went on. 'Details and such. It might be easier to do that in a more secluded place than a crowded restaurant.'

'I'm sure you're right,' Ginny assented demurely. 'What do you suggest?'

He stroked his chin, frowning reflectively as if seriously considering a variety of options. 'Well, I could suggest the Mermaid's tavern,' he said finally. 'We would be perfectly private there, and I can vouch for the dinner.'

'But it might be difficult for me to return home afterward,' Ginny pointed out considering. 'It would be very late to drive back again.'

'There is that,' he said nodding. 'Yes, certainly, one must take that into account.'

'Of course, Papa will probably sleep through until morning, and Ron will take care of him if he wakes... so I could always lie over night at the tavern,' Ginny mused with the same due consideration. 'That might be a solution?'

'It might,' he agreed. 'Should you wish to do that, ma'am?'

'If such a solution would maybe advance my education in some way, it might be said that we could kill two birds with one stone,' Ginny murmured, her eyes lowered as she idly traced a pattern on the ice with the toe of her skate.

'I could guarantee it,' Malfoy declared. 'It would be an efficient use of time.'

'And efficiency is vital when planning such a uh grand enterprise.'

'Doubtless.'

Virginia raised her eyes and met his gaze. Laughter danced across the cool grey surface of his eyes, but beneath that surface the colour deepened as if she were looking into the depths of a bottomless well.

'Then, one could conclude that the Mermaid's Tavern is the best solution.'

'An extraordinary decision.'

'And one I came to all by myself, of course,' Ginny murmured, following as he skated to the edge of the ice.

He glanced over his shoulder, observing airily, 'Rest assured, weasel, that I shall always strive for consensus when it comes to making important decisions.'

'My mind is at rest, ferret.' She sat at the edge of the ice to unstrap her skates, aware that her flushed cheeks belied the statement. The pointed banter had aroused and excited her in a way she'd never felt before. She could think only of the promised lesson, of recapturing the joy of her dream, only this time with her mind as essential to the pleasure of her body.

When he reached down to take her hand and pull her to her feet, the simple strength in his gloved fingers turned her knees to water, and for an instant she swayed toward him as if her legs wouldn't bear her weight.

He slipped an arm around her waist, holding her against him for a second, and his scent filled her nostrils, making her giddy. With a muttered exclamation she pushed herself free and walked over to the car, mortified by the absurd weakness, by the extraordinary excitation of her nerves. Anyone would think she was some feeble swooning maiden in need of burned feathers and hartshorn.

She climbed up into the car before Draco could offer assistance and sat primly on the seat, drawing her cloak tightly around her before clasping her hands in her lap and gazing with apparent fixed interest at the scene on the lake.

Draco said nothing but cast her a sideways glance, his eyes hooded so she couldn't read their expression. But she had the feeling that he both knew what had happened and was amused by it. It didn't help her sense of embarrassment, which grew as these strange, tormenting desires showed no sign of abating, until she was beginning to wonder if she would fall upon him as soon as they were alone, tearing his clothes from his body with hungry cries of primitive passion.

Absurd! She huddled into her cloak, drawing as far to the edge of the seat as she could. It would be less mortifying, of course, if her companion was subject to the same urgencies, but somehow she doubted it. They rose, she was convinced, from her own inexperience, and Draco Tobias Malfoy was too cool and collected, too experienced in these realms, to be ruled by tidal waves of unbidden and unruly emotion.

'If you inch any further sideways, you'll fall out,' Draco observed. 'Am I taking up too much room?'

'No... no, of course not,' Ginny disclaimed hastily. 'I didn't want to get in the way of your arm... make it difficult for you to move... or something.' She stumbled to a halt, her face on fire.

'How very considerate of you,' he murmured. 'But I assure you there's not even the slightest danger of that.' He slipped his left arm around her waist and yanked her along the leather seat until she was sitting so close to him his shoulder brushed her cheek. 'That's a little more friendly, I believe.'

'But hardly decorous,' she said trying to hold herself rigidly upright despite the encircling arm.

Draco chuckled. 'Maybe not, but decorum is not on today's agenda.'

Virginia pursed her lips and kept silent until she'd recovered some measure of equanimity; then she changed the subject, hoping that a new subject would focus her attention on something other than erotic fantasy. 'Have you thought where we should set up a house for this charade?'

'I've taken a lease on a comfortable furnished house on Dover Street.'

The change of topic worked like a charm. Ginny was so startled, all thoughts of the indecorous hours lying ahead of her vanished. She jerked herself sideways, away from his encircling arm, and nearly toppled off the seat. 'Already? But... but how did you know I would agree?'

Draco withdrew his arm. 'I was optimistic.'

'No you're a pompous arrogant bastard,' she declared icily.

'Am I?' He glanced at her with open amusement. 'We would be two of a kind, if you take away your Weasleyness and have someone fuck you over. I could guess how you would react as easily as I could guess my own response to such a proposal.'

'Of all the arrogant, impertinent...' She fell into a fulminating silence.

'Words fail you?' he inquired, raising an incredulous eyebrow. 'I never thought to see the day.'

'I must be going mad!' Ginny exploded. 'I detest you! What am I doing here?'

'Oh, I think you know the answer to that perfectly well,' he responded as they turned off Westminster Bridge and entered the quieter realms south of the river. 'You're as eager for a certain course of lessons as I am to teach them. And you're as eager for your own vengeance as I am for mine. So let's not pretend... at least between ourselves.'

'For a biological Malfoy you show a most remarkable lack of finesse,' Ginny retorted.

'I'm a realist,' he said. 'A plain, blunt wizard. If my bluntness offends you, then you can only forgive me, but I fear I cannot change the habits of a lifetime.'

'What kind of lifetime? After Lucius?'

'Maybe I'll tell you one day.'

'You know my story, why won't you tell me yours?'

'Because I choose not to tell you.'

'We're to live under the same roof, perpetrate this fraud, and you expect me to follow your lead without knowing anything about you... about what brought you to this?' she said with indignant frustration. 'I mean look at you, you live two different fabrications, while masking the truth.'

'Yes.'

'The simple agreement rendered her speechless. She sat beside him; unable to think of anything to say that would puncture her companion's infuriating self-possession. His air of world-weary cynicism sat easily on his broad brow, and he exuded an indefinable aura of mastery that she knew she couldn't withstand. He'd swept her up into his life, made her part of his schemes, but where she saw herself as a self-determining, decision making individual, in his eyes she was merely an adjunct, a useful tool to be bent to the correct shape.

The winter afternoon was drawing in; light appearing in the cottages they passed. Her companion showed no inclination to break the silence, although her mute anger buzzed around the car like a nest of invisible hornets. Ginny thought about telling him that for once he'd misjudged the situation. That she didn't want to participate in his schemes on these terms. That he should turn the car and take her back to town.

She thought about saying these things, but she didn't say them.

The lights of the Mermaid's tavern shone brightly in the gathering dusk, and again Ben and the gangly lad emerged to greet them as Draco drew up beneath the creaking sign.

'Eh, we wasn't expectin' ye this early, Luke,' Ben said as the highwayman jumped to the ground. 'I see ye've brought miss again.'

'So I have, Ben,' Draco agreed cheerfully, turning to lift Ginny out of the car. 'We have some important matters to discuss, and this seemed the quietest place for it.'

'Oh, aye,' Ben said with a snort of laughter. 'We knows all about such 'portant matters in the Mermaid's tavern.'

Ginny stood still in the yellow lamplight from the open door. Folding her arms, she glared at the innkeeper, who was grinning from ear to ear. 'I doubt you know anything at all, Ben. What I'm doing here is of no concern of yours, and I'll thank you to keep your observations to yourself.' Then she spun on her heel and entered the inn. If she couldn't do battle with Draco, then she would at least show the people in this den of thieves that she was more than one of their precious Lord Lucifer's toys.

'Eh, that's a sharp tongue an' no mistake,' Ben said still grinning, apparently quite unperturbed by Ginny's rebuke. Draco shrugged acceptingly and followed Virginia into the inn.

Bessie came out of the kitchen, her face flushed from the fire where she'd been turning a haunch of venison on a spit. She ignored Ginny and greeted Draco with a nod. 'Ye'd best go to the fire in the taproom, Luke, until yer room's warmed up. Tab's only jest lit yer fire. We wasn't expectin' ye until after dark.'

'No worry,' Draco said easily. 'I'll have a tankard of ale, and Miss Morgan will take a glass of madeira.' He swept Ginny into the busy taproom under Bessie's baleful stare.

Ginny wondered how many of the occupants of the taproom had been there on her last visit, and her yes darted involuntarily to the long deal table in the middle of the room, two spots of colour burning on her cheeks.

Voices were raised in greeting and Draco answered them cheerfully, escorting Ginny to a seat on a couch beside the fire. If he was aware of her embarrassment, he gave no sign, except he treated her with a deferential formality, which was at odds with his usual manner.

'Allow me to take your cloak, ma'am.' He unclasped it without waiting for her to do it for herself and slipped it from her shoulders. 'Take a seat and warm yourself. Tab will bring your glass soon.'

An interested silence had fallen. Virginia felt herself the focus of every gaze. She turned her face to the fire and pretended to be warming her hands. After a minute the conversation picked up again, and her skin ceased to prickle with the sense of a hundred eyes upon her.

Draco handed her a glass of madeira, then stood beside her, his back to the fire, his body offering a partial shield from the rest of the room. This unlooked-for consideration went some way toward soothing her ruffled temper. She relaxed, leaning against the hard oak back of the couch, sipping her wine, and stretching her feet to the fire.

'Eh... is Luke 'ere?' A harsh voice broke urgently through the pleasant hum of voices. Ginny looked up sharply and saw that Draco had suddenly tensed.

'Aye, Morris,' he said. 'I'm here. Do you have something for me?'

'Aye.'

Virginia glanced toward the door, where stood a villainous-looking individual huddled in a rusty black cloak over a labourer's smock, a frayed straw hat on his head, a corncob pipe cradled against the palm of one hand.

'A pint of yer best, Bessie,' the new arrival shouted, stepping into the room. 'Charge it to Lord Luke.'

Draco crossed the room toward Morris. He jerked his head toward the door. 'Step outside Morris.'

'Eh, but its cold as charity out there,' the newcomer grumbled, taking the tankard he drank noisily, emerging with a moustache of froth that he wiped off with the back of a ragged sleeve. 'You want to know what I 'eard at the Whale and Pipe.'

'Outside!' Draco's voice was a whip crack. He glanced toward Virginia, who was watching the scene with unabashed interest; then he stalked out of the taproom. Morris drained his tankard, slammed it down on the counter, and shambled after him.

'Beats me where that Morris gets 'is information from,' Ben observed to the room at large. 'But he's always comin' wi' summat or other. Luke says he's 'is best informer... doesn't waste no time on anythin' but fat pickin's.'

What on earth were they talking about? Ginny curled into the corner of the couch, happy to be forgotten as the discussion buzzed around her. What information would Draco find valuable?

Her reverie was interrupted by the return of its subject. He was looking somewhat preoccupied, a frown creasing his forehead.

'Tab assures me my room is now as worm as toast,' he said. 'Shall we go up?'

Ginny rose, forgetting the mysterious Morris in her eagerness to get away from the public taproom.

'I'll send dinner up to ye in 'alf an hour, Luke,' Bessie announced from the other side of the counter, still ignoring Draco's companion. 'I've a nice haunch of venison with red currant jelly, a neat's tongue, an' a dish of lampreys. Which d'ye fancy?'

'Oh, all three, if you please,' Rupert said carelessly. 'We're both sharp set.' He ushered Ginny up the stairs ahead of him into his room.

'Is Bessie always this pleasant to your visitors?' Ginny inquired.

'Believe it or not, you're the only visitor I've had,' he said, pouring Madeira into two glasses.

'I feel honoured.' Ginny took the glass he handed her. 'I was sure you must have had a stream of panting females eager for the attentions of such a notorious Malfoy.'

Rupert regarded her thoughtfully over the lip of his glass. 'We seem to be at odds again. A short time ago I was congratulating us on having achieved a state of harmony that could only be increased as the evening continued, and now we're wands drawn... or, at least, you are. I'm at a loss to know how it came about.'

'Don't be disingenuous. You know perfectly well how it came about.' Ginny sat down in the armchair beside the fire. 'You expect me to follow your direction without giving me so much as a scrap of information in exchange or involving me in the most elementary aspects of this crazy scheme. Maybe I won't like this house on Dover Street, but that won't matter to you, will it?'

Draco raked a hand through his white-blonde hair, looking somewhat nonplussed. 'Why would it matter what the house is like? It's only a temporary accommodation. The situation is good, it has decent-sized rooms, the furniture is unobjectionable There's a suite of rooms that I imagine will suit your father very well,' he added. 'Compared with where he finds himself at present, almost anything would be an improvement.'

Ginny couldn't argue with this. She took another tactic. 'Don't you imagine my family would expect to witness the only daughter's wedding?'

'That is a difficulty,' he conceded. 'But I'm sure we could overcome it when the time came.'

He regarded her closely. 'Don't make difficulties just for the sake of it Virginia. Either you agree to accept my direction with this play, or we bring it to a close now. It won't work if you pull against me.'

Ginny stared into the fire, reluctantly acknowledging that the scheme was his and it was only reasonable he should have the direction of it. It was his manner of doing so that offended her.

'Look at it this way,' he said, coming over to her catching her chin in his palm and lifting her face. 'If this marriage were not counterfeit, you would be obliged by law and the Church to accept the direction and authority of your husband. This situation is the same, only the reasons for it are a little different.'

There was a teasing note in his voice, but dark currents swirled beneath the calm surface of his eyes as he held her gaze. She could see herself reflected in the dark irises and could imagine herself slipping beneath the surface into the vortex of those currents, losing herself in the tide of passion that they promised.

'You are beautiful, Virginia Weasley.' He ran his thumb over her mouth, his expression now grave. 'I wonder if you know how beautiful you are.'

Ginny shivered, lost in the honeyed warmth of his voice, the luminous glow of his eyes. The press of his fingers on her skin seemed intrinsic to her flesh. She moved her hand to grasp his wrist, feeling his pulse beating strong and steady beneath her fingers.

'Cry peace, Virginia,' he said softly.

She nodded. 'Peace.'

He smiled and bent to take her mouth with his own, and a dizzying flood of memory washed over her, her body awakened to recollected sensation. She inhaled the scent of his skin, tasted again the sweetness of his mouth, and her nipples rose hard and her loins burned. Her fingers tightened on his wrist, and she half rose from her chair in her instinctive need to press her body to his.

At this inopportune moment there was a knock at the door, and he drew back, releasing her face. 'All in good time, sweeting.' He moved casually away from her as Tabitha came in.

She offered Ginny a smile and a curtsy. 'I'll be settin' the table now.'

At least one person in this den of thieves could treat her with civility. Ginny returned Tabitha's smile and sat back in her chair, trying to recapture her composure. She glanced at the clock, feeling like a small child eagerly waiting for some promised treat, unable to sit still, wanting to ask every few minutes, 'Is it time yet?'

She kept her seat while dinner was set upon the table. Draco, leaning against the mantelpiece, carried on an easy exchange with Bessie and Ben.

'There, now.' Bessie surveyed the laden table with a nod of satisfaction. 'An I'll 'ave the fire started in your chamber straightaway. I daresay ye'll be wantin' to repair there shortly.' She cast a dour glance at the still and silent Ginny.

Draco made no response beyond a faint inclination of his head, and the two left the room.

'Come to the table, Miss Weasley.' Draco drew out her chair. 'I venture to think that Bessie's dinner will surpass anything Ron Weasley could produce.'

'Ron makes a very tasty steak and kidney pudding,' Ginny said loftily, taking her seat.

'About Ron, I have given him thought on living conditions. So I took it upon myself to purchase a house conveniently located close to Potter's, which should keep him relatively occupied. Don't you think? Anyway enough talk of your brother.'

She smiled up at him, and he ran his palm over her head.

'I believe if you don't object too strongly, that I shall undo your hair.'

Startled, she touched the heavy plait on her shoulder. 'Now?'

'Yes,' he said matter-of-factly, deftly extricating hairpins. 'There, now that's much better.' He combed his fingers through the glowing red mane, spreading it over her shoulders before taking his own seat opposite.

'Is there anything else?' Ginny inquired. Taking shelter from renewed confusion in irony. 'Perhaps you'd like to unbutton my top... or remove my stockings... or-'

'All of that shortly,' he interrupted, leaning over to fill her wineglass. 'As yet I haven't decided whether I wish you to do those things for yourself, or whether I wish to do them for you.'

'Bloody hell!' Ginny muttered, dropping a serving spoon into the dish of lampreys.

'Do you think it will snow again?' Draco inquired politely.

'I trust not,' she replied, her voice quivering with laughter. 'May I pass you the lampreys?'

'If you please.' He helped himself, then said, 'I had thought we would appear to solemnize our marriage on Saturday, unless you have some other more pressing engagement.'

Ginny swallowed a lamprey whole. 'Uh... uh, I don't believe so.'

'Then we can take up residence as a married couple in Dover Street that evening.'

'Yes,' agreed Ginny. So soon! No time to prepare her father for this extraordinary change of circumstance. But she couldn't manage to worry about such a detail at the moment. She would have to help settle Ron in his new house close to Harry and redeem everything that Jebediah still held in pawn- but she couldn't worry about that at the moment either.

'I'll advance you sufficient funds to settle all your outstanding debts at home,' Draco said calmly, slicing the neat's tongue.

How did he always read her thoughts? Ginny dismissed the question as easily as she'd dismissed every other concern in the last half hour. Vaguely, she wondered how he was going to fund this enterprise now that he didn't have his inheritance and then nonchalantly dismissed that question as well. Draco was navigating this ship, following his own charts. She had nothing to do but swing the helm at his direction.

'Do you care for the opera?' her companion inquired with polite interest.

'Except for Mital,' Ginny responded without missing a beat. 'I detest Mital.'

'You perhaps find him a little heavy,' her companion agreed solemnly, carving the venison. 'But one must be seen at the opera. We should definitely hire a box for the season.'

'Oh, most definitely. But I prefer the theatre. I once saw Garrick perform as Hamlet on Muggle television.'

'His death was a great loss to the stage,' Draco said, laying a slice of venison on her platter.

Throughout dinner he maintained an easy flow of inconsequential small talk. At first Ginny thought he was simply playing a game, but then it occurred to her that he was testing her to see if she could hold her own in Ministry circles.

'So have I passed?' Ginny inquired, after Tabitha had removed the dishes for the first course and placed a platter of cheese cakes with a bowl of apples on the table.

Draco smiled, peeling an apple in one unbroken spiral. 'Passed what?'

'You know perfectly well.'

He leaned over to place the peeled apple on her plate. 'Northumberland and Shoreditch are perhaps not the most obvious classrooms for training future Ministry Socialites.'

'Northumberland society has its refinements,' she observed mildly, nibbling on an apple quarter.

'And I should imagine you rarely need to be told anything twice,' he reflected. 'Are you easy about moving in these circles?'

'Perfectly.' She sipped her wine and met his gaze candidly.

He nodded and pushed back his chair. 'Then shall we adjourn and move to the most serious lesson of the evening, Miss Weasley?'

A little chill ran down her spine. 'Of course, you would teach me the tricks of seduction so that I can use them on Lucius.'

'No,' he corrected quietly. 'No, I would rather teach you to take your own pleasure even as you give it.'

He came round behind her and pulled her chair out.

Cupping her elbows, he lifted her to her feet and turned her to face him. His eyes had darkened, smoky with passion, his mouth a taut line, and she could feel the tension thrumming in his body held so close to hers.

'I want you, Virginia,' he murmured. 'Only you and just for yourself.'

Ginny touched her tongue to her dry lips. Her skin was hot as if she were in the grip of fever. 'Show me these things,' she whispered. 'This time I will know what's happening.'

Something flickered across his eyes, a shadow remarkably like regret, and then it was gone, as thought it never had been. 'Come.'

He took her hand and led her through the passageway into the bedchamber.

He closed the door and locked it. Ginny stood in the middle of the room, feeling awkward and uncertain, as shy as any virgin on her wedding night. She was no virgin, but the dream loving had not prepared her for this sense of deliberation, for the intent she saw in his eyes as he came toward her with a springing, eager step.

He took her hands and chafed them. 'Are you cold?'

She shrugged helplessly. 'Cold... hot... both... I don't know.' Suddenly, she withdrew her hands from his and said in a rush, 'I feel shy and stupid because I don't know what to do. Shall I take off my clothes?'

He smiled. 'I should like you to do that.' Crossing to the fire, he propped his shoulders against the mantelpiece, watching her.

She felt Draco's eyes on her, although she couldn't for the life of her look up at him. She sat down on the edge of the bed to pull of her shoes, and then stood up again. Swiftly she unzipped her skirt and let it slip to her feet. Pulled her top over her. Beneath she only had her bra and underpants. She hesitated for a second, then with grim determination, unhooked the bra and stepped out of her underpants, dropping them both on the floor.

She turned to face him, keeping her hands at her sides, resisting the urge to shield the private parts of her body. 'So?' She lifted her chin; meeting his gaze with an odd defiance.

'So,' he said softly, pushing himself off the mantelpiece and coming toward her. 'So, Miss Weasley.' He placed his hands on her shoulders and ran his palms down her arms to her wrists. Her skin prickled as if little tongues of fire rippled in the wake of the caress.

'Would you like me to do for you what you've done for me?' he asked, smiling, his eyes roaming the length of her body, and those same tongues of fire licked every inch of her skin as his gaze moved over her.

'It might even things up a little,' Ginny said, trying to respond with a light insouciance, but her voice didn't sound in the least like her own.

'Come to the fire.' He drew her into the warmth, away from the needling drafts from the window.

Ginny was aware of the heat of the fire on her back, the corresponding coolness on her front. She could feel her nipples prickling as they hardened, whether with the chill of her own nakedness, or from what she watching, she couldn't guess.

Draco removed his clothes with an air of deliberation, and remembered the other time when she'd watched him in disbelief as he'd undressed in front of her as coolly as if she weren't there. But this time it was for her.

As he removed each article, he placed it carefully on the cedar chest at the foot of the bed. He turned away from her as he shrugged off his shirt, and she saw the muscles ripple across his shoulders and down the lean powerful back. Her gaze clung to the shape of his hips and buttocks outlined in his pants, the muscular swell of his thighs as he bent to pull off his shoes. Barely breathing, she listened to the clunk as he unfastened his belt. His hands move at his waist, and then he pushed both pants and underpants off his hips, stepping out of both garments in one fluid movement.

Ginny examined his naked rear view... the way his broad back tapered into the slender waist and slim hips. She absorbed the neat muscularity of his bottom, the rock-hard thighs and calves. She had only an imperfect image of her own back view, but she was convinced it bore little resemblance to this pared down masculine version.

He seemed to be giving her ample time for scrutiny, enough time to not the tiny mole in the small of his back, the dusting of light hair along his spine, creeping into the narrow cleft of his buttocks, the dark mark intertwined on his left arm, enough time for the examination to bring a flush to her cheeks and a quiver of excitement to her belly.

And then he turned to face her. He stood still, a half smile playing on his lips, as he offered himself for her gaze. Her eyes flew over the hard chest, the flat belly, and fixed upon his erect flesh. With six brothers she had never looked upon such a thing, but her own body remembered the aching joy as that shaft had penetrated her own flesh, moved within her, capturing some essence of her self that belonged only to the exquisite joining of bodies.

She took a tentative step towards him, but he moved quickly, taking them both closer to the fires warmth. He held her close against him, so that their skin touched at every point and his erection pulsed hard against her belly. Her breasts were pressed against his chest, and she could feel his heart beating as she could feel her own like a crazed bird taking off on some mad flight.

He ran his hands, down her back, stroking the indentation of her waist, sliding round to cup her bottom. His smiling mouth kissed hers, a light, tantalizing brush that made her lips tingle.

'I would like to look at you,' he said.

'I thought you just did.' Her responding smile was tremulous as she placed her hands on his shoulders.

'Not as I would have wanted. You seemed uncomfortable.'

'Well its not a situation that I'm familiar with,' she said candidly.

Smiling, he stepped back from her, taking her hands and holding them away from her body as his gaze swept in a long, leisurely caress down her length. His eyes burned into her as if they could brand her. He let her hands drop to her sides and placed his palms, fingertips flicking lightly at her nipples.

'This pleases you,' he stated. He licked his forefinger and ran it damply down the cleft between her breasts. Ginny shuddered, the sharply defined edges of reality, of their surroundings, wavering as every part of her responded to what he was doing to her.

His finger dipped into her navel, then tracked a path over her belly. The delicate probe slid between her thighs, and her breath came swift as her body jumped at the exquisite teasing touch. He cupped the mound of her sex in his warm palm, and his fingers danced over the sensitive bud until she could hear her moans in the quiet room as if coming from a great distance and having nothing to do with herself. A wave of sensation so intense she lost every grip on reality, crashed over her, engulfing her, and she would have slipped to her knees if he hadn't held her to him with a tight encircling arm.

'Bloody hell!' she muttered, hanging limply against him as her eyes focused again and the room came back. 'What happened?'

Draco chuckled richly. 'You're exquisitely sensitive, sweet. I barely touched you.'

She looked up at him. 'Could I do something like that for you?'

'Oh, yes.'

Ginny straightened her still wobbly knees and looked down at his body. His arousal seemed to beg for her touch, and she held him gently, exploratively, curling her fingers, feeling the blood pulsing in the corded veins. 'Like this?'

'Like that.'

She allowed her fingers to roam, to reach further, to stroke the hard globes. When she looked up at him, she saw that his eyes were closed, his head thrown back, his mouth curved with pleasure. He'd said he would show her how to give as well as receive the sensual joys of the bedroom, and she found she was deriving the greatest satisfaction from feeling his pleasure with her fingertips, hearing his breathing quicken, feeling the dampness of his skin as she rested her cheek against his chest while the shaft of his flesh flickered against her caressing hand with a life of its own.

'Stop now!' His voice was a husky rasp of urgency, and he reached down to seize her hands, drawing them away from him. He carried her to the bed, where, holding her against one upraised knee, he pulled back the covers.

He dropped her gently onto the bed and came down with her, leaning on one elbow beside her as he stroked her body, a thoughtful look in his eye. 'You have the most beautiful body. So rich and yet so delicate.'

He bent to kiss the fast-beating pulse at her throat, and then his mouth fastened on her nipple, his tongue flickering upward, his lips tugging at the rosy crown, creating a responding tug in her belly and loins, setting loose a rampaging surge of inexpressible need. Urgently, she pulled him over her, stretching her body beneath him, her skin adhering to his, the ridged muscles of his thighs pressing into her own softer flesh.

'It's too soon,' he whispered in soft protest.

'No... no,' he reiterated firmly, lifting her hips, curling her legs around his waist. 'No, it's not too soon. I want it now!'

He laughed, but his eyes were on fire, the contours of his face smudged with his own desperate desire. And then he was inside her, and it was both as it had been in her dream and quite different. This time her eyes were open in the candlelit room, her gaze fixed on the face above her, seeing the harsh planes of his face softening as his pleasure built, the tautness of his mouth as he struggled to hold back, the corded veins in his neck, arched with effort. Her hands ran up his arms, cupping the hard swell of his biceps supporting his weight.

This time when the waves of her own greedy hunger built in her loins, she felt the glorious urgency in every fibre, in every pulse of her brain. They gathered strength with each deeply penetrating thrust of his flesh until she seemed to burst asunder in a shower of sparks and she heard her cry ring through the room the instant before his mouth fastened on hers. Vaguely she was aware that he'd left her body, but his length was measured along hers and she held him to her, linking her arms around his back in a fierce embrace as the sparks settled and her body re-formed.

Now she became aware of the mattress beneath her, her own sweat mingling with his, his weight crushing her breasts, hammering her into the deep feather bed. Glorious languor flooded her, turning her limbs to butter. Her arms fell away from him, the tension in her thighs and buttocks was abruptly released, and she sank deeper into her nest, her eyes closing as her heart slowed.

Draco kissed her eyelids, the tip of her nose, the corner of her mouth; then with a groan he rolled sideways onto the bed.

She stretched a hand to pat his stomach in the only expression of recognition she could manage. After a minute she said with a great effort, 'You withdrew from me in the last second.'

'You were so impatient, sweet, I didn't have time to put on the condom.'

But of course, Ginny thought. Pregnancy would certainly ruin their plans... or at least her share in them.

It was a cold little niggle of grim reality that had no place in the warm, satiated languor of the present. She banished it easily, and as Draco thrust an arm beneath her, she turned her head into his shoulder and slid into sleep.