AN: Okay this is just a teaser chapter. The story has much more plot to it than it seems, I promise. There's also plenty of delicious smut in here so who needs a plot anyway, eh? eh? The next chapter is already mostly written so it will be up in a few days.

Please please review. This is the first fic I've ever posted, and I would really love feedback.

Disclaimer: Don't own it. Not profiting from it. Just doing it for the thrills.

Whoever you are, I love you for reading.

Hermione's cottage

He came to stand behind her. She gripped the edge of the counter with both hands and looked down, refusing to turn and meet his eyes. It was so irrational, this crippling disappointment over something so trivial. She didn't know who she was when it came to him. He made her feel so off-balance.

She realized what a sight she must look- completely bespattered in chocolate batter in a ratty tank and shorts. So much for your stupid surprise.

Tears pooled in her eyes. She swiped at them furiously. What the fuck is wrong with you?

She suddenly realized that he hadn't said a single word to her since he'd walked in. The silence pressed on her chest heavily. "I'm sorry," she managed, "I wanted to surprise you with a birthday cake. I remembered what you told me last week and I wanted to do something special for you but- Ahh" She was cut off by a surge of delicious electricity across her skin as his lips brushed her neck at the sensitive spot just beneath her ear. He moved closer until her back was flush against his chest.

Tamping down on the way the hotness of his soft kisses was making her brain go fuzzy; she tried again, "the bloody thing exploded all over the kitchen. And I was just about to clean up when you came home so- Ohh" He was licking up the side of her neck, stopping to suck at all the spots that had chocolate on them, eliciting a series of tiny Oh oh oh ohs from her. He made his way to her ear and then whispered, "Don't you dare clean up," before going back to her pulse point and grazing it hard with his teeth. She gasped and angled her neck to give him better access.

His hands were on her hips, sliding under her top and splaying over her skin. He pushed her against the counter roughly, staying pressed up against her until she was imprisoned in between.

"Cleaning you up," he went on, ripping her tank off her in one motion, "is my job." And then his hand was in her hair, turning her face so he could claim her mouth with his.

Liquid fire shot straight through her, erasing every ounce of disappointment and leaving only desire in its wake. He seemed to have stored up every piece of information about her sensitive spots from their previous two make-out sessions and was now using it to drive her crazy.

He had her positioned so that she could do nothing but submit to his ministrations. She suspected he liked it this way. This way he was completely in control. The thought niggled in her mind but was stopped in its tracks by his tongue sliding over hers.

His hands were everywhere, on her stomach, her waist, her arms, twisting in her hair and every time they passed by her lace-covered breasts he would brush his fingers over them ever so lightly. It was infuriating. Everything else he was doing was rough enough to make her gasp repeatedly with something akin to apprehension until she reminded herself that she trusted him. The way he was attacking her lips, neck and collarbone with his mouth, the way his pelvis ground against her ass, pushing her into the counter top, it was all hard and rough and raw. But why the fuck wouldn't he take her bra off? She tried to and he pushed her hands away brusquely. "You're my birthday present to unwrap," he growled, his voice hoarse with the arousal that was so evident from the hardened length pressing into her from behind. She shivered slightly from the thrill of him laying claim to her like that.

Then he spun her around so quickly she let out a little scream, and had her pressed back against the counter in the same second. He stopped then, his chest heaving, beautiful sleet-grey eyes dark with desire. They traveled slowly all the way down her body and back up. She felt her skin prickle where his eyes fell, and tried to think over the spinning in her head and her pulse loud in her ears. Why did he stop?

She was suddenly angry. How dare he get her all hot and then just stop like that? His lips twisted up in a smirk as he took in the sudden change in her expression. "Impatient, aren't you kitten?" he chuckled quietly, still deliciously pressed against her from the waist down but making no move to pick up where he'd left off.

He's laughing at you! And 'kitten'? Hell, no. Hermione Granger did not take belittlement lightly, least of all from Draco Fucking Malfoy, no matter how much she wanted him to tear off the rest of her clothes and do her right then. Time to take control.

She smiled up at him, letting all her desire for him show in her eyes and slowly licked her lips. His smirk faltered ever so slightly. He was in control, the way he so loved to be, but barely. She stretched up onto her toes and entwined herself as close as she could to him. Bringing her lips to his ear, she breathed, "Please. Don't stop. I want you. Please, Draco." The low moan in his throat at the sound of his name on her lips set her heart racing again, but she controlled it and waited for him to react.

Boy, did he react. He kissed her so hard she felt it till the soles of her feet. It was mind-boggling. Her hands went to his soft, silky hair, entangling themselves in it and pulling his head closer. She slid her tongue into his mouth, tasting him. He moaned again, louder this time. And finally he did what she'd been waiting for. In a move to grab her face and angle it for better access he took his hands off her hips where he'd been holding her with an iron grip. It was all she needed. She pushed him.

His eyes flew open as he toppled backwards, too surprised to catch his balance. He fell with a muffled yell onto the white mattress she'd conjured the second after she'd pushed him. She jumped on top of him and straddled him before he had a chance to recover from the shock, and used her wand to tie his hands together with satin ropes at the wrist and then slice his navy t-shirt in half before she ripped it off him.

His face had settled into an amused smile now, but she thought she saw a flash of uncertainty in those gorgeous eyes. She grinned down at him, "Two can play at this game, Malfoy," and she realized the truth to her words with a sudden shock. This was a game. If it wasn't he would've thrown her off him in a second instead of lying back and waiting for her next move. This was a game. Exciting, sexy, casual, dangerous. And she loved it.

She looked down at him, the implications of her epiphany making her feel oddly bold, and caught a flash of emotion across his face at her words.

Pain.