She could kill him; absolutely kill him! And that smirk, what she would do to be able to reach over and smack him silly. Well, either smack him or snog the pomposity out of him, Hermione didn't really know which one she'd preferred but she was sure she could find pleasure doing either.
Her squirming only prompted laughter from the git and a, admittedly, not so unpleasant sensation as her binds chafed against her skin. Hermione would've at least given him an earful if not for him casting the Silencio charm beforehand.
Draco stood from his sit across the room, just watching, enjoying the struggle she found herself in, the struggle he put her in.
Approaching her in a manner Hermione could only describe as predatory, slow and intent, Draco study her, his gaze scoping her entire form.
"It's simple really," Draco announced, his hands on his hip with a smile positively feral, his teeth a beacon in an otherwise darkened room. "It's called quid pro quo, Granger."
She growled when he brushed the length of his body against hers. His hand snaked down between them to give her breast a quick squeeze before he captured her nipple through her bra and clothing, rolling it between his fingers.
Hermione's head dropped and she tried to burrow into her shoulder attempting to hide the visual, and the only evidence, of her groans
"Tit."
He tweaked.
"For."
He twisted.
"Tat."
He released, drawing out a throaty, but still completely silent, moan from the fiery witch, his fiery witch if you liked.
Kissing her hard, he was careful not to give in to temptation and use his tongue to taste; he was she would bite.
Hands wandered, Draco caught the ends of her blouse, yanking each side apart; buttons flew left and right until the material hung loosely off her shoulders.
Hermione's pretty little face contorted indignantly and Draco's satisfaction increased tenfold, was it an expensive blouse? Draco fingered the cloth; the silky material smooth and rich, he supposed it was. No matter he of course could buy her a wardrobe more of them; would buy her wardrobe more of them.
His words were like molten, heating her insides from the core out. Pawing her bare flesh eagerly, he rested his palm on her chest, appreciating the steady beat of her heart whilst the other hand held her jaw upward forcing her eyes to meet his.
"You give me yours, and I'll give you mine."
...
And this is for Madi; hopefully in return I get the fic I've been bugging her about. Not that she enjoyed this fic at all ;)