A/N: Hey, guys! I'm a new author here, and naturally, the first thing I put up is smut. Don't worry - I'm not a pervert. I'm not sex-obsessed, and I'm not a silly fan. Check out my profile for more information. For this fanfic, I chose Draco/Hermione as the couple, but I purposefully made it obscure so you can choose your favorite couple. Hope you like! I'm always open for new ideas and I love critiques. (And no, I'm not begging for reviews).
"Don't you dare walk away from this!" I scream, and he growls, turning back. We've been through this a million times, and it doesn't even matter what the first part is. We've fought about drinking, about sleeping in, about visiting his parents. He stormed out when I yelled at him for not putting away his clothes, and I've spent the night away when he cursed at me about reading the Daily Prophet over his shoulder.
"This? This? There IS no 'this'!" he hisses, stomping an inch closer. His eyes are dark, a stormy grey, and I shiver as his anger radiates off of him. 'This' could refer to anything, but I take it as the first steps towards a broken heart.
"Oh, so we're nothing, now?"
"The fuck we are!"
"We need to talk - " I cry, and his face darkens and I know it is wrong, but I can't help taunting him like this, like a mouse playing with a cat before its eaten.
And then his lips are on mine, and his fist crashes into the wall behind me, and he's overwhelming me. He bits my lip, and the taste of blood and him and that chocolate I ate earlier swirl together, and he presses his body right up against mine. "Don't," he growls, capturing my wrists with a barely-bruised hand. "Ever," and his grip tightens, stretching my arms far above my body. "Say," and they're pinned against the wall. "That." And he kisses me again, and suddenly there's rope stretching around my wrists and into the broken wall and his hands are roughly palming my breasts as he sucks on my lips.
"Please," I breathe, pulling at him, his shirt, ripping it slightly as I pull it over his head, his hands squeezing as our lip contact breaks. I run my hands down his chest, the hard angles and lines that I know so well, and he shifts me, tearing off my shirt with a ripping sound. He unbuttons my jeans and I pull them down, and his hands go to my thighs. He pulls them apart, hooking his calloused palms under my butt and lifting me so my legs are wrapped around his. He grinds against me, fiercely, savagely, and his fingers slip underneath my panties. He runs a digit against my clit and I moan, before he plunges two fingers into me with a growl, sucking my shoulder and leaving a mark.
I rake my hands down his back as he fingers me, plunging them in and out as I moan and writhe against him, back pressed against the wall, hands free of the ropes, and I can't remember how. And then I can't think straight and what is he doing to me, and I come undone, moaning his name as I jerk and shiver against him. He traces my lips with the same hand, and I open them, tasting myself on his fingers, sucking them. He groans and picks me up fully, kissing me as he stumbles towards the bedroom, tossing me on the bed. "You like that," he says roughly, "You like me fingering you against the wall, just like a little slut, huh?"
And his dirty words turn me on and I moan, and he goes, "Yeah, I bet you do, would you like to be tied up and helpless?"
"Y-yes," I force out, and he unclips my bra, leaning down to suck roughly on one nipple.
"You'll have to earn it though, won't you?" I push him against the bedpost and he willingly follows, catching my wrists again and licking my lips slowly. "No, no, no," he breathes, "I'm in charge here."
I kiss my way down his chest and dip my tongue into his bellybutton, and he groans loudly and pushes on my head. Taking the hint, I open his jeans with my teeth, wondering through my lust-filled haze how we got here yet again. But then I'm licking up the side of him, sucking, kissing the tip, using my hands and mouth as he jerks on the bed. I squeeze softly and drag my teeth up the bottom, and his hands fist in my hair, pulling it. So I do it again, and lick over it again, and he pushes my head again, close to losing control. He rolls over me and flicks his wand, and my hands suddenly tied to the posts. "Yes," he hisses, as I pull on them, "I like this. You, underneath me, totally helpless. You like it too?"
"Oh, yes!"
"Call me master," he commands, rubbing my clit, his mouth right above my breast. "You want me, you're begging for it, but you have to call me master."
"Yes, master," I moan, and this is turning me on so much I might come from listening to him, his rough, husky voice sending shocks down my body. "Please."
"Ah, slut, what do you want?" He rubs his cock slowly on my slit, before descending on my nipple. He bites it hard and I scream out, and he blows coolly on it, making me shiver. "Tell me what you want, slut," he breathes over the wet tip. He kisses the other one, before looking up at me, "Tell me."
"I want you, master," I sob, and he bites down again. "I want you! Please, master, fuck me like a dirty slut!"
"Fuck you?" his warm breath ghosts over my slit now, as he'd dragged his teeth down my body as I talked. "How? Like this, slut?" And his tongue delves into me, and I arch on the bed.
"Oh, master, please," I buck my hips. "Fuck me! I want you to shove your cock into me, to fuck me mercilessly! I want to be ridden so hard that I scream! I want bruises, master, I want you to pound into me with your big, hard fucking cock into my slutty pussy, please! I need you!"
He rubs his hand on my bum, covering it with my juices, before spanking it sharply. "Sluts don't get a say," he says harshly, dipping cum-covered fingers into my hole. "You do what I want, you dirty whore." As one hand stretches out my arsehole, the other spanks me vigorously. It causes sparks to shoot up my body and I groan breathlessly. He thrusts into my pussy one sweet, sexy time, before pulling it out and shoving it into my arse.
"Fuck!" I scream breathlessly and he murmurs it right along with me.
"Fuck, you're fucking tight," he thrusts more, and I'm moaning, and he's pushing in and out and almost cutting me in half, and suddenly he slips all the way in. I'm nearly bent in half and he's thrusting so hard the bed is rocking and god-mother-damnit-to-hell it feels good. "You like this? You like my big cock in your dirty arsehole? You better be clean, slut, cause you're sucking my dick before round number two."
I know I'm clean, as I have a daily cleaning spell, and the thought of this dirty act pushes me over the edge. I come again with a mingled scream and he pulls out, shoving his cock into my mouth before I've come off my high. I suck it hungrily, imagining I'm tasting myself on his tasty cock and the thought excites me. He pulls out and palms my breasts once more, kissing me roughly before slamming into my pussy. My legs are wrapped around his waist and I'm hitting the headboard with each thrust, and I know I'll have bruises from his tight, rough grip and the scent of him, the spicyness, the sweat, the blood is filling my nose.
"Fuck, slut, I love you," he gasps, "You're as tight as a virgin, and ooh, that feels good, do it again, clench your pussy 'round my dick, whore, yeah, you like it hard?"
"Harder," I moan, and I've lost track of everything, completely wound up in this frustrating, infuriating, sexy man that I love so much, and he shoves into me once more and I've come again, and he finally spills his hot seed into my pussy and collapses on top of me, and how I wish we would fight and shag like this forever.