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Vengeance Is Best Served Cold
Draco pulled against his bonds; ropes that were tied so tightly that they scraped painfully against his skin, tied in intricate knots and patterns across his whole body. Above him, Hermione writhed and moaned as she moved herself up and down on his cock; his traitorous cock that had inexplicably risen when her filthy, mudblood mouth had sucked on it.
She looked like a dark goddess, dressed in black lace, breasts threatening to spill out of her corset, flushed pink from exertion and arousal. Gods how he hated her. How he hated that she had caught him unawares, knocking him out and letting him wake to the feel of his cock in her mouth and her wet cunt rubbing against his thigh. He had moved immediately to remove her, to push her away. He tried to hit her, knock her to the floor where shit like her belonged, but he found his arm was tethered tightly to the bedpost.
She looked down at him, mouth twisted into a cruel smirk, eyes lit by a darkness he had only ever seen in his Aunt Bella. Her fingers trailed up from his niplles, which she had been pulling and twisting sharply, and came to rest on his throat.
"Take a deep breath now, you inbred scumbag." she drawled, before her finger, her dainty, small and filthy fingers tightened inexorably around his throat. As the air to his brain was cut off, he began to get lightheaded. This, combined with the feel of her wrapped tight around him, inner walls gripping his cock like velvet covered iron, brought him to an explosive orgasm, body straining upwards against the ropes. Vaguely, he heard Hermione come with a low, growling moan.
As he lost consciousness, he heard her say "Vengeance is a dish best served cold, Malfoy, and I've only just begun."