A belated birthday fanfic to my new friend, Maia aka ferretandthedeer on ff and oh-my-fancan. Based off awesome kill your darlings & murder in the first drarry tumblr gifs done by drarrymore.
Sweet Surrender
You could leave. There's nothing stopping you.
Feet of distance is laid out between us, practically an ocean with you still against the wall and him in front of the bed. The door is right by your left, inches away. You'd sooner reach it and escape from room before he caught up with you.
So why aren't you moving?
You find the answer in his eyes, those stony-gray eyes that capture you, taking away your ability to move, speak, even think properly. Their gaze is more powerful any spell or hex, even stronger than your will. Too hard to pull away, too easy to fall under.
His thin, pink lips lift into a cunning smirk, a sight that before infuriated you, filling your body with the great urge to knock it off with your fist but now…a shiver goes through you, creeping up like cool fingers brushing against your skin.
You're frozen. He's smirking.
"Take off your clothes."
No, remaining rationality screams. It pleas with you to listen, screaming that this could be a trap. Your body does the exact opposite. Fingers flew to buttons, unclasping each one by one, then move to the trousers.
The soft thump of your clothes falling to the ground are the only sounds that fill the room.
Stony-gray eyes examine, starting from head to toe, sparing not an inch. You can't help but wonder what's going through his mind as he looks at you. Pale skin that was only a few shades tanner than his, a frame that is still too skinny for your taste, the black locks of hair covering your chest and lower stomach. Breathing hitches as his eyes focus on your chest, zeroing in on the pink nipples that practically come to life, trembling, hardening underneath that heated, heavy gaze.
You bite your bottom lip hard to keep in the moan that's trying to escape from your mouth. Your task becomes difficult- unbearably difficult as a pink tongue darts from his mouth, licking his lower lip in approval, gray eyes roaring in hunger.
Is this what Little Red felt like when she looked into the eyes of the big, bad wolf?
"Those too."
He points at your boxers, the only scrap of clothing left that keeps you from complete nudity. Your fingers aren't as quick to remove them as they were before. Realization hits you. If they're gone, there's nothing left. No going back.
You know this. He does too. It could only explain why he decided to take matters into his own hands, crossing over to the other side and kneeling down before you. You tremble at the sight, and then trembling turns to whimpers as his hands finally meet your skin, ghost-like touches that tease and torture, making you crave for more.
The boxers are shoved straight to the floor and you bit your lip as the cool breeze kisses your bare skin. His grin screams of wicked delight as your little friend springs to life, practically sticking out from your legs like a sword.
"Malfoy-" His name is cut off with a gasp as soft lips cover the sword. Eyes shut tight from the pure bliss flaring through your body; the pleasure so good you nearly combust right then on the spot.
Before a stammered breath is let out, you're being moved-actually carried-over to his bed. You're draped across the mattress like a blanket being spread out. Breathing grows heavier, shallower as he stands in front of you and vanishes his clothes with a snap of his fingers, baring all to the world without an ounce of shame, revealing lands and lands of beautiful, porcelain-white skin gleaming from the moonlight pouring in from the window. Beautiful skin begging to touched, to be kissed, to be marked.
He climbs onto the bed and stalks toward you like a predator closing in on his prey. Your heart beats faster, pulses heavier, as the distance from him to you lessens till there's only a mere inch separating us.
"Scared, Potter?" He teases with his cool against brushing against your heated skin. Fists clench onto the sheets as you try to suppress the whimper.
The familiar taunt melts away any linger fear, morphing anxiety to determination and excitement. Just because the setting is different doesn't mean he'll be allowed the upper-hand.
"You wish." A smirk curves your lips right before they're covered with his.
A simple kiss. That was all it took. Like a fire being started with a single lit match before bursting into an explosion. Kisses quickly deepen from soft to hard. A violent, bruising, passionate affair with tongues darting wildly into mouths like a pair of wands dueling for the upper-cut, teeth clashing and biting. Hands caressing and grasping, molding curves and angles before they're marked by sharp nails and vicious teeth and wicked tongues. All of it fanning the fire growing between us, building, growing deeper, more thorough, more intense until-until-until…
The world explodes in a mass of beautiful, overwhelming, searing heat.