I watched as Draco pulled back the sheets and climbed into bed, falling heavily down beside me.

"That was a lovely idea," I said as I rubbed hand cream between my fingers, "the bracelet, I mean. Lyra loved it."

His shoulders gave a small lift as he made a grunting sound, before flicking his gaze to my wrist where my own one hung, almost full up with charms. I never took it off, only when Draco attached a new one.

He reached out and touched a fingertip tentatively to the last one he'd attached. A small silver can of baked beans, a little humorous nod to our ten year wedding anniversary.

("I don't get it," Scorpius had frowned when I showed him. "What has baked beans got to do with your wedding anniversary?" "Ten years is tin," Draco had answered with a smirk. "And like hell am I going to buy your mother actual tin jewellery.")

"I love you, Blaire," Draco murmured now, his hand leaving my bracelet and trailing up my arm. "You know that, don't you?"

His eyes met mine and I could see the tell tale darkening of his pupils, his breathing becoming laboured through semi parted lips.

Before I could answer, he dipped his head and pressed cool lips against my bare shoulder, his fingers finding the strap of my silk night slip, gently tugging it down.

"Drac, don't," I implored as he immediately began to caress my exposed breast, his thumb and forefinger teasing my nipple, instantly igniting the low burn in my stomach.

Ignoring me, he lifted his head and hungrily claimed my mouth, kissing me with an urgency that told me he was horny.

My blood instantly went south and I kissed him back, my body responding automatically as I allowed his tongue to slip past my teeth and forcefully lap against mine.

But, just as a longing groan vibrated at the back of his throat, I pulled my lips from his, twisting my face away.

"Drac, I said don't," I panted, my chest heaving heavily as my heart raced against my ribs. "Jack's only in the next room."

He froze at the mention of our eldest child's name, disappointment flooding his features.

"So fucking what?" He hissed, anger sparking in his still darkened eyes. "It never used to stop us. Fuck, I seem to recall a time when you couldn't jump on my cock fast enough, that we used to have sex in my workshop whilst the arcade was full of customers!"

"That's not the same." I said, trying to ignore the sting of his anger.

"No, it isn't, because right now we are lying in our marital bed, a place which kind of expects sex at least once in a fucking while!"

I hastily yanked the strap of my slip back up, covering my hardened nipple which was still tingling from Draco's sensual touch.

A part of me wanted to say fuck it, cast a silencing charm on the room and ride him until he cums loud and hard inside of me.

But another part of me felt uneasy doing it in such close proximity to our grown up son who, at the age of seventeen, was probably doing things himself. It felt even more wrong somehow.

"I'm sorry, Drac," I muttered, not meeting his eye. "It just doesn't feel right."

"So no sex for me for another five weeks, then?" Draco pouted childishly. "Fuck, Blaire, it's already been almost a month since you've touched me."

"Well, go and have a wank in the shower if you need it that bad." I spat.

"Oh, I will," he hissed, kicking back the sheets and hopping out of bed, the tent in his boxers evident. "And don't think for a minute that I'm going to think about you!"

Pah! A minute! I knew for a fact that when he wanks himself off he lasts thirty seconds at best.

I said nothing as he slammed the door to our adjoining bathroom shut. Five seconds later I heard the shower running. And sure enough, less than a minute later, it was off again.

"So, who was it?" I said as casually as I could whilst he crawled back into bed, his body damp and hair wet from his 'quickie'. "That new presenter with the big tits on Weekly Witch Weather Wednesday?"

"It was you," he murmured in my ear, his arms snaking around my middle as he pulled me close and nuzzled his face in my neck. "It's always you."

******

"How often do you and Vincent have sex?"

Pansy cocked an eyebrow at my question before her face split into an extra wide smirk.

"I have been living for the day when the Slytherin Prince and Princess realise that they are in fact, just like everybody else." She responded, a little too smugly.

"What do you mean?" I blinked. "Are you saying that you and Vincent don't?"

"Oh, we do." Pansy said, "just not with each other."

The coffee I had just taken a sip of sprayed everywhere. I quickly sat up on the sofa, patting down my top.

"Oh, don't look so shocked, darling." She drawled with a dismissive wave of her hand. "It's only natural. When you realise that the passion has left the bedroom and you're just going through the motions, it's perfectly healthy to shake things up a bit."

"Shake things up?!" Horror filled my insides at the thought of Draco fucking another woman and enjoying her body more than mine. "Aren't you worried that Vincent will decide he'd rather be with someone else entirely?"

"Honey, I thought you were supposed to be the chill one?" Pansy smirked. "And no, I don't think a man is going to throw away a scenario where he can have his cake and eat it."

I leant towards her across the sofa, suddenly intrigued. "So who have you done it with, then?"

But Pansy just tapped her nose, throwing me a coy wink. "Rule number one of an open marriage - you never speak of your conquests, not even to each other."

I blinked, feeling weirdly horrified and fascinated at the same time. "So you don't actually know who Vincent has been screwing?"

She shook her head. "No. And I don't want to. Just so long as he comes home to me and Gregory as I do to them, that's all that matters."

"There's still passion," I said, recalling the way Draco could ignite the flame inside of me by one simple look. "It's just... I don't feel like I can be intimate with him when Jack's around. He's so... grown up. I can't really explain it properly. But the idea of him walking in or overhearing something fills me with more horror than as if he were a little boy."

Pansy seemed to mull my words over a moment, taking a long sip of her coffee as she did so.

"That makes sense, I guess," she said eventually. "But with Gregory only being ten, it's more difficult for me to understand. Hell, imagine having an adult son at the age of thirty-six..."

"Yeah, cheers for that," I said stiffly, realising with horror that I was only a year older than Jack when I had him.

"Hey, it's only five weeks until Hogwarts day and you'll be waving Jack off again." Pansy shrugged. "If Draco really can't wait that long, then you know where to send him."

She gave a wicked cackle as I picked up a cushion from the sofa and threw it at her head.

Adulthood sucked.

*****