A/N: Thank you all so much for the great response to the first chapter

A/N: Thank you all so much for the great response to the first chapter! With so much interest, I jumped right onto the second chapter. I hope you enjoy it as much as you liked the first. And, as always, thank you in advance for the reviews. Your thoughts and ideas really help fuel my fire, so I know that I'm doing something right :) And away we go. . .

Chapter 2

She knew this room . . . yet it was like nothing she had ever seen before. Her eyes scanned the walls and, although a small voice nagged at the back of her mind, she couldn't pinpoint why the location was so familiar.

Gauzy white cloth waterfalled from the ceiling—it cascaded down the walls and pooled flowingly on the floor. Countless white candles were the only light source. They illuminated the room, bathing it in warm, dancing light—creating flickering shadows through the semi- translucent material.

White rose pedals fell from the ceiling like snow, draping the room in a fragrant blanket. Hermione held out her hand and caught a single pedal in her open palm. It was soft like silk and tickled her skin. Slowly, she spun in place, taking it all in, her eyes as wide as a child's on Christmas morning.

Suddenly she stopped, her breath caught in her throat. Directly in the center of the room was the biggest bed Hermione had ever seen. Puffy white bedding billowed perfectly in place beneath a mound of white pillows—the entire set up nestled comfortably underneath a tall canopy. More gauzy material flowed around it, creating a protective haven, partially shielding the bed from the rest of the room.

The entire room was picturesque—taken directly from a fairy tale—and Hermione suddenly felt plain and out of place. Her school uniform hung off of her thin frame and contrasted painfully against the brilliant white of the room. She carefully fingered the material of her drab skirt, feeling mousy and unsightly.

The room engulfed her in its perfection and as she forced her eyes up from her shoes to face the splendor once again, she suddenly realized why this place was so familiar to her.

It was the Room of Requirement.

Granted, it was normally set up for Dumbledore's Army—complete with numberless books and other obstacles to practice fighting—but it was definitely the same room. So why was it different now?

Hermione wracked her mind. Quickly, she rifled through the immeasurable facts and tidbits that she had stored there over the years.

The Room of Requirement . . . it was hidden somewhere in her head.

Suddenly, Harry Potter's voice came to her head. The Room was there for anyone who needed it—and it was always equipped for the seeker's needs.

Her eyebrows knit tightly across her forehead and her eyes scanned the odd setup of the room.

What the seeker needs . . . .

The Room of Require—Desire . . . .


Her pulse quickened as she finally realized why she was there . . . what she was seeking. The serene perfection in the material . . . the candles . . . the pedals . . .

The bed.

She smelled him before she saw him. That damned cologne again. It found her nose and immediately, she felt intoxicated by its aroma. She suddenly found her eyes closed as she deeply drank in the fragrance.

She was so lost in his scent, her mind swimming, that she didn't hear him come up behind her. As he stood behind her, the smell became stronger and Hermione let her head fall to the side as if in a trance as she concentrated on her breathing.

Strong arms wrapped protectively around her waist and Hermione leaned heavily into the body that was behind hers. Warm lips grazed the sensitive skin of her neck and Hermione felt her knees weaken. The lips worked from the juncture of her neck and shoulder and torturously moved up the length of her throat. They paused at her earlobe, and Hermione shivered as teeth softly nipped at the lobe. Then, the lips continued their journey along her jaw line. As they reached the tip of her chin, a hand gently cupped her check and turned her face toward the waiting lips.

Her eyes still closed, Hermione leaned forward and, barely making any contact, brushed her lips softly against the other pair. The hand remained on her face as she pulled away and forced her eyes to open.

Eyes the color of chrome met hers and her breath caught in her throat again. Draco Malfoy stared back at her, his face mere inches from her own. She could feel his hot breath against her skin, the sweet smell of his breath mixing with his rousing cologne. She could feel herself beginning to pant, her chest swelling with each breath, as she found herself sinking deeply into his fathomless eyes.

With gentle guidance, Draco used the hand on Hermione's waist to turn her so she was facing him. Hermione's eyes trailed from his face—his angel-like face—down his body, drinking in the sight of him. He was wearing a white button down shirt and white slacks. The material was thin, the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, and the top three buttons undone, showing a small sample of his smooth chest. His platinum hair was slicked back—flawless—and blended in slightly with his surroundings. Even his eyes looked lighter.

He looked different in white; kinder, gentler. Hermione was so used to seeing him in black—black uniform and clothing to match his usually darkened expressions. He looked like he should be walking on a beach somewhere—not standing in this beautiful room with her.

In horror, she looked down again at her own lackluster clothing. She wanted to cover up . . . to hide.

A finger nestled under her chin and gently pulled her face up. Draco's eyes looked understanding as he looked at her face. Slowly he leaned forward, pulling her tightly against his body.

"You look beautiful."

His voice was husky and low against her ear and his breath tickled her skin.

Hermione's eyes fluttered shut, her eyelashes resting gently against her alabaster skin, as Draco's lips once again began to nibble on her earlobe. She could feel heat rush to her face as she found it hard to catch her breath once more, her panting pressing her breasts against Draco's hard chest.

His lips began to trail down her jaw line again, but it was too slow—torturously slow. Deciding to take matters into her own hands, Hermione grabbed his face and crushed her lips on top of his. His gasp of surprise only fueled the fire and she deepened their kiss, her lips spreading, allowing for their tongues to tangle.

Thoughts of their steamy encounter in the hallways raced back into Hermione's mind like a freight train, and she instantly felt moisture pool between her legs. She remembered his mouth, his hands, the feeling of his body hardening against hers . . . and it was beginning to happen again—yet this time, there was nothing (or nobody) to stop them.

Her hands twisted through his picture perfect hair, pulling his face deeper into hers. His hands roamed frantically across her back, his fingers digging into her flesh and pulling her closer to him. Reaching up on her toes, her kisses became hungrier. She couldn't seem to get close enough to his body. Tipping her pelvis, she ground her hips into his. He moaned against her mouth and she felt him stiffen against her.

Slowly, he began to walk her backward. She stumbled slightly as her feet shuffled, but his arms held her steady and she never broke their kiss.

With a jolt, the back of Hermione's knees hit the edge of the bed, and she sat down heavily. Draco leaned over her, his lips never leaving hers. With gentle pressure, he pressed her backward until she was horizontal on the bed—the fluffy down comforter framing her body and face.

Breaking their kiss, Draco looked down at Hermione. Her lips were swollen—her face a slight pink. She was breathing heavily and her eyes were dark with lust. She looked beautiful as her wild hair—tumbled and tousled—contrasted against the brilliant white of the comforter.

Slowly and calculative,—with a predator-like motion—Draco crawled underneath the material of the canopy and on top of Hermione. His body pressed down on hers, hard and warm. Her knees bent, allowing more room. She gasped as she felt his straining zipper against her inner thigh. Without thought, she writhed underneath him, and rolled her hips into his.

His hips reciprocated with their own thrust.

Hermione cried out, her back arching from the pillowed bed. All thought escaped her mind as uncontrollable desire took over.

In a frenzy, Hermione's fingers began to unbutton the white shirt that Draco was wearing. She had to feel his hard, smooth chest . . . she wanted to feel it against her own naked flesh. Draco didn't waste a moment before his fingers were undoing her blouse.

Hastily, she threw the thin material to the side at the same instant that her blouse was ripped the rest of the way open. She gasped as coolness hit her skin, but it was immediately replaced with the warmth from Draco's body.

Draco's lips crushed against hers again, and Hermione reveled in the feeling of his smooth, warm chest against hers. Her nails raked over his shoulders and down his back.

He kissed her jaw and moved quickly to her shoulders. Pulling the strap of her bra down, he kissed the exposed flesh. His hand groped at her breast, thorough the thin material of her bra.

Hermione's mind went blank. She tossed her head and arched into his lap. He responded with another thrust, and when she countered that, his hips began to continuously roll against hers. Without stopping, he dragged his mouth over her collarbone and started a trail that led directly between her breasts. In one fluid motion, his fingers trailed behind her back and skillfully unfastened the clasp. The bra fell open, revealing dark, hardened nipples. They stood firm and erect, the darker color distinguishable from the smooth porcelain skin of her breasts.

His hand left her breast only to be replaced with his lips.

Hermione could feel his hot breath against her tit as tongue swirled and sucked at her nipple. Her hands twisted in his hair, holding him in place. Suddenly, he took the nipple between his teeth and bit down gently. A broken gasp shuddered through Hermione's lips. He tore his mouth from one, only to move it to the other. He was hard against her, but his skin, his hands, and his lips were soft. Pleasure pulsed through Hermione's body, causing more wetness to soak through the core of her panties.

His hands found the bare skin of her thighs and he pushed his hands underneath the fabric of her skirt. Unannounced, his mouth left her nipple and trailed slowly down her stomach. He paused slightly at her belly button, using his tongue to swirl around the outer circle.

Hermione was so crazed with lust that she barely registered his lips moving from her lower abdomen to the inside of her left knee. Draco used his tongue to slowly ascend up her thigh. His tongue left a wet path that cooled instantly with his hot breath.

Suddenly, his hands tipped her hips off of the bed. Using his thumbs, he hooked the elastic of her panties and began to pull them down her legs.

All of the feelings of lust were immediately replaced with sheer panic. Hermione's eyes flew open as she struggled to push herself up on her elbows. But, Draco's hand reached up and gently pressed on her abdomen. He looked up at her, only his eyes visible from beneath the material of her skirt. His eyes were heavy lidded and had changed from a brilliant chrome to a stormy grey—the color of lust. Hermione still felt a twinge of panic, but the feelings of desire were steadily growing stronger.

Her body relaxed slightly underneath his touch and before she knew what had happened, his head disappeared underneath her skirt as he unceremoniously bent and sucked her clit into his mouth. Her hips arched up; she was shocked, rocked, by the suddenness of the assault. She moaned loudly as he parted her with her tongue. He licked the length of her slit and then stabbed his tongue into her center.

He grabbed the back of her thighs and pushed her legs up and back so she was completely open to him. Using just the tip of his tongue, he lightly flicked her clit. Hermione moaned again, panting, and thrust her hips toward him. Her head tossed on the comforter and she bit her hand to stop herself from screaming.

She could feel her climax beginning to build, when suddenly, Draco thrust a finger into her. Her eyes rolled back in her head as his finger stroked her wet walls. His mouth found her clit again and he sucked—hard—as a second finger joined the first. Hermione screamed as the end of his finger hit her in the right spot and her climax hit hard and fast. Her body convulsed around his fingers and she shuddered on the bed.

As Hermione lay panting, Draco pulled himself from between her legs. Slowly—deliberately—he kissed as much exposed flesh as he could, reawakening her body beneath his touch.

Lazily, she opened her eyes—her breathing becoming more normal. She ran her hands up his chest, to his shoulders, and behind his neck. Gently, she pulled him to her lips. She could taste herself on his tongue. She could feel her hardened nipples pressing against his chest.

Smoothly, she rolled him. With skill, she swung her leg over his waist and straddled him. She could feel his erection pressing through the fabric of his slacks. Rocking her hips back and forth, she began to ride him through the material. A hiss escaped his lips as his head fell backward onto the bed. He thrust up at her, and she could see that he was getting close to his own release.

Abruptly, Hermione ceased. Draco's eyes opened in surprise. Coyly, she slid back until she was kneeling between his spread legs. Her hands rubbed over the straining pants, and he threw his head back. Hermione's fingers nimbly went to work on the button and fly. She licked her lips expectantly.

Slowly, she stripped the slacks from his hips and her hands rubbed him through his boxers. Hissing into the air, his eyes closed. Smiling, she slipped the boxers from his hips and down his legs.

A moan escaped her lips as she finally caught sight of him. He was so ready, so hard, so long, that her body was near spasm at the sight of him.

Delicately, Hermione bent between his legs and licked his length. A strained "yes" slipped from Draco's lips. She moaned against him and she felt his body begin to thrust into her mouth. His fingers wrapped in her hair and she looked up at him. Her eyes were a dark storm of lust as she took him deep into her mouth. Her hand grasped what her mouth couldn't take into her mouth, and began to pump. She pulled back, circling the tip with her tongue before going back and pumping him again.

Draco was beginning to pant, his fingers becoming rougher in Hermione's hair, pulling her forward to conceal more. She pulled back, sensing that he was on the verge of release. Seductively, she crawled over his body until she was straddling him once more. She lifted her skirt and positioned herself directly above his hardened rod.

Draco grabbed her roughly by the hips and pulled her down onto him, causing a keening cry to exit Hermione's throat. His hips bucked against her, sending him further inside of her. She could feel him stretching her, and pain mixed deliciously with pleasure.

Slowly, she lifted her hips and pressed them back down onto his lap. He retaliated. Hermione's head fell backward as she began to find a rhythm in her bouncing. She gripped his ribs, creating leverage. Groaning, their bodies rocked harder and faster, eliciting sounds from their skin as it slapped together.

Hermione began to pant Draco's name with each rocking motion. A bead of sweat dripped between her breasts as they bounced with each thrust. Draco's hands gripped her hips, as he pulled himself deeper. Hermione bent forward and caught him in a searing kiss. Their tongues slipped across each other as they continued to rock in unison.

As Hermione thrust he tongue deeply into Draco's mouth, his thrusts became even deeper, harder, and slightly arrhythmic. He tore his mouth from hers, his jaw clenched as he tried to control himself. Hermione slid her hands into his hair, tugged his lips back to hers, and sucked and licked at his mouth.

Draco swelled inside of Hermione and she knew that he was close. She tore her mouth from his, her moaning becoming louder. He thrust his hips and it hit a deep spot deep within her walls. She leaned her head back and screamed Draco's name as her climax rocketed violently through her. Draco's growl was just as loud, and mere seconds later.

With no strength remaining, Hermione fell forward, cloaking Draco. He was still inside of her and she could feel him swell slightly as he lazily traced circles around her back. His lips were soft as they kissed her cheek . . . her nose . . . her eyelids . . .

Hermione sat up with a start. She took a moment to adjust to the darkness and realized that she was in her dorm room, safe and secure in her bed. Yet, her skin was electrified,—like all of her nerves were raw and exposed—she was panting, and she could feel a flush darkening her face.

It was a dream.

A very vivid dream.

She moved her legs and could feel the wetness soaking through her panties.

It was just a dream.

She tried to forget what she had just experienced in her head, and was shocked when she felt the desire swell in her again.

She felt his lips . . . his hands . . . his tongue.

Her nipples hardened.

She shook her head, trying to clear the imagery. No, it's wrong.

She felt him deep inside of her.

She rubbed at her face. No, it's Malfoy.

Malfoy . . . yes, Draco Malfoy.

And although she knew she should feel ashamed, or repulsed, she only felt lust—pure, unadulterated lust.

And she was positive that she wouldn't be getting any more sleep that night.