A/N: Warning-steaminess abounds!
Thank you MrBenzedrine for fixing this chapter for me C:
Chapter 4
She tried to stay calm.
She tried to stay tuned in.
But her thoughts were confused fragments that didn't seem to go with anything at all—they were in shambles.
She tried to focus on her studies.
On her classes.
On her task.
But she was hardpressed to think of anything else, save Malfoy. She was in so many classes with Malfoy! She shared a common room with Malfoy. She had detention with Malfoy. How could she avoid the brooding wizard? She'd spurned him, and she ignored him, but that did nothing to dull the fact that he was there, just there, in her immediate proximity.
It was no way to live.
The atrocities at the school went on. Her friends falling victim to the Carrows continued. But a funny thing had happened—she wasn't standing out. Not that she would have reacted if she did. She felt numb and cold and impervious to the insanity around her.
All she could think about was Malfoy, and his fingers, and his mouth, and the things he told her. He was so evil, and wanting him was wrong, and she would probably go straight to Hell for it, but damn if she could resist the wizard.
She had pushed him away - for two days - and it felt like being under the Cruciatus. She was missing a piece of her soul—how could she let it continue? She had to go back to him, had to convince him, had to hope that they could be together, regardless of what may happen afterwards. There would be tears and heartbreak and foul words exchanged, but she would have had him!
It was simple, really.
No more denying herself what she wanted desperately—she would have Malfoy because he was right—it was the only way to be rid of this affliction that plagued them both.
~oOo*oOo~
She walked towards him carefully, very slowly, her mind racing and her heart practically pounding out of her chest.
"Go away, Granger," came the haughty demand.
It didn't stall her in the least. It had been two days. In that time, she'd come to terms with their shared obsession. He might want to prolong the torture, but she wouldn't allow it. Any more time and her sanity would surely suffer a fatal blow.
"No, Malfoy." She advanced on him with all the stealth of a predator. "I don't want to. This is our common room, after all. You've told me countless times."
"Granger," he warned. "You come any closer and you know what will happen."
She smirked, but the smile did not touch her eyes. Instead, she merely unclasped her robes in the back and pulled the material off of her shoulders before sailing them through the air and letting them fall noiselessly to the ground. She then proceeded to pull her Gryffindor jumper off of her person, casting it aside. Malfoy watched, his eyes brimming with desire as she continued. The buttons of her white oxford came next, exposing part of her cream-colored bra to the Slytherin's roving eyes. She kicked off her shoes and stepped closer, until her knees were just shy of touching his shins in the chair he sat in.
"Maybe I want it to, Malfoy." She bit her lip, taking note of the blush crawling up his neck and mottling his pale skin.
"I've had enough of the teasing, Mudblood."
Ah, Mudblood, she mused. The trump card. As if the word even affects me anymore.
"Fine," she told him sweetly, turning around and walking as sultry as she could until she reached the ottoman and sat delicately down, spreading her legs a little wider as she did.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm just sitting here, like I have a right to do."
The rate of his breathing increased, and his eyes had turned the color of coal, black pupils overshadowing silver. Hermione leaned back on the ottoman, resting on her forearms, biting her lip as she let her legs fall open.
Malfoy let out a moan before he bolted up, and then he was there - right there! - in between the slopes of her thighs, his fingers digging into her skin brutally. Hermione laughed, the sound rich and wicked as she threw her head back, relishing in the contact.
"What's happened to you, Granger?"
The wizard was so silly. As if he could keep her like this - wanting for days - while he was the only thing that made sense. He was crude and cruel, and he didn't care about her, but he made her feel, and Hermione came to terms with how valuable that really was. It was important to feel things. How could she remember who she was if she didn't?
"Just do it, Malfoy," she commanded throatily. "Make me feel, and I'll give you what you want."
Malfoy pulled himself up and over her, capturing her lips in a searing kiss. She opened her mouth immediately, welcoming his skillful tongue. Kissing him was so unlike anything else. It made her feel whole, and in so doing, made her realize that she didn't feel this way normally.
Her fingers carded through platinum tresses, pulling and tugging him closer, making it easier to taste him.
He was all man.
Cloves and jasmine tea and something dark.
Just what she needed.
Just his proximity improved her mood, made her feel like herself again, made her remember what it was like to fight. For two days, the feeling had alluded her, and that was frightening. Malfoy tasted like disagreements, like quarrels and rage and something illicit. She whimpered into his mouth, relishing in the feel of his body as he pressed it intimately to hers. He groaned at the contact, grabbing a fistful of her curls in his hands and pulling her close.
He broke away panting, dark eyes so alien and so full of desire it stilted her vision and made her heart flutter.
"When I take you," his right hand squeezed her hip, "I will do so on my terms." His left hand gripped her hair unrelenting whilst somehow tenderly rubbing the luxurious curls between his fingers. "You must submit to me...you must be mine for the night."
"Just to break the spell?" Her chocolate eyes sought assurance, even from her tormenter. He couldn't expect this to be common. It was what they both needed, and then they would go separate ways. She couldn't let him think her compliance meant she would let him have her again.
He nodded. "We just need to get each other out, then we can go on like before."
Hermione didn't bother telling him she didn't very much care for before; she merely nodded back just so he could go back to kissing her.
But he didn't.
He dropped to his knees.
Merlin, a Pureblood on his knees for her! Malfoy was right—it was all so very wrong.
Just one time, she promised herself. Ron and Harry needn't know—they never have to find out about it. Malfoy surely won't tell them.
His inquisitive fingers were pushing, spreading, opening her thighs up to him. Would it hurt? Would she feel herself breaking? He wanted to shatter her, and he was going to do just that! A part of her should be sad. It should have been Ron. But even that didn't seem right.
"You smell so good, Granger." Malfoy abruptly pressed his nose into the juncture of her thighs, his breath tickling her sensitive flesh and causing her to arch off of the ottoman. "If I only get you once, I'll make it count."
~oOo*oOo~
He ripped off her knickers and wrenched apart her thighs, not bothering with her skirt. He liked the way it looked bunched up around her legs, so innocent yet so naughty.
Granger had come to him willingly, and he wouldn't permit her to leave before he had her the way he'd been dreaming about.
He kissed her inner thigh to distract her, his mouth and teeth moving against her flesh. Merlin, but she was delicious, and she was his for the night. His fingers were not as patient as the rest of him and climbed the creamy expanse of her leg until reaching the soft flesh he'd been dreaming about, had obsessed over.
"Let's find out if you've been good or bad," he crooned against her thigh, on his bloody knees for her, threadbare. He plunged his fingers inside her scorching heat and moaned at the feel of her inner walls - so bloody tight and clenching him - watching as her eyes screwed shut and her back arched taut off of the cushions.
His cock was weeping with the urge to drive into her, caring about nothing but that moist heat his fingers were lucky enough to encounter. This hot and tight around two fingers, and how would his cock feel? He flexed his hips involuntarily against her leg.
"Fuck," he swore. "Look what you did?" He pushed against her for emphasis. "Such a bad girl...I'd hoped..."
"Malfoy." Her voice was strained and laced with want. "Please keep moving. I'll do anything."
Music to his ears. She was willing and perfect and so responsive, he'd have to free his cock before he came in his pants like a bloody fourth year. He moved his fingers expertly, trailing long, velvety strokes across the skin of her leg teasingly with his tongue. She'd come here hoping to get the jump on him, but blast that to Hell, he was in charge, and she would soon come to see that rather quickly.
Fuck, he had to have her.
The need to take her was bloody stifling. She was so hot and warm and slick and dirty. He wanted to press into her core and pound like a mad man until he reached his release. The sounds she made were so fucking sexy he could hardly focus. His desire was monstrous and demanding. As soon as he obliterated that need he could go back to hating her, but right now, he couldn't stop wanting her.
She was trembling with need, and he was barely hanging by a thread. She was doing it again, making him lose control. He needed to show her who was in charge!
When he pressed his mouth against her core, his tongue sweeping against her sensitive flesh fervently, a scream tore from her throat. Her hands flew to his head, shamelessly pressing him against her in a silent plea to keep up his skillful licks.
"You're being bad again, Granger," he whispered against her. "Put your hands over your head," he commanded, his words sharp and wild. "Only good witches get rewarded."
She whined her despair, craving her release, but, to his delight, complied nonetheless, locking her fingers above her head. "Malfoy...please."
Granger's pleas were music to his ears. He liked having her hanging on his every command. "You're so beautiful," he informed her between licks. "Filthy, but beautiful."
His tongue melted into her scorching heat, lapping at her juices like it was the best thing he'd ever tasted. The fervent swipes of his tongue elicited a litany of cries from her mouth. Soon, he had her reduced to a sobbing mess, hanging on his every word. He would tell her how fitting she looked, spread out wantonly before him, how she was a good whore and, if she were lucky, might just get her reward yet. The pulsating walls caressing his tongue had his cock swelling with raw need. He moaned against her delicious center, spurred by the husky noises she made.
"Mmm," he hummed, breaking away from her core but leaving his fingers and keeping her just on the edge. "I'll make it so good for you. You're quite lucky - you should be begging me for this."
"Please," she wailed, cheeks flushed crimson. "I want it."
"What do you want, my little Mudblood?" But he was already unbuckling and removing his constricting trousers.
"You...inside me...please!"
Draco did not think he had ever been more turned on in his life than he was in that moment.
Granger was begging him for his cock, and he could hardly control himself.
~oOo*oOo~
Hermione was breaking.
She was guided to the precipice of promised bliss only to be wrenched away cruelly each time! It left her desperate and shaking. In one wild moment, she thought she might come just from his words alone.
He was so forceful.
So demanding.
But...gods...she loved it!
She was quickly forgetting all the reasons she should hold back - should retain a piece of herself - in favor of promising him anything he wished, so long as he didn't leave her wanting! That she would allow him this much power over him, when it had all started so promising, she would do anything for more, anything for him.
Anything for Draco.
Yes, would he be pleased if she called him that? She wanted badly to please him! If only he would lose control as she had already done so, then she might get what she wished for most.
"Draco," she called languidly. "Please, make me feel good."
The resulting groan that escaped his lips would have made her smirk if she wasn't so painfully on edge, the hot and wet sensation burning between her thighs. He positioned himself - his glorious self - at her entrance and rubbed against her teasingly.
"Draco!" she wailed, thrashing against him and seeking more of the pleasant friction. "Stopteasingme!"
He pressed further against her, the wide girth of the tip of his cock swallowed up by her pulsating heat.
"You won't fucking move," he demanded, somewhat deranged. "The second I feel your sweet pussy squeeze my cock and that's it," he promised, the threat clear in his unhinged eyes.
Hermione had a true moment of terror—how could she control herself? Her core was empty and aching, save for the teasing tip of him. It wanted desperately to squeeze against something hard.
Tears sprung at the edges of her eyes. She nodded furiously, hoping she could finally feel him penetrating her so deep her eyes would roll back in her head.
When he surged forward, she was not prepared for the feeling of fullness to say nothing of the feeling of hard, velvety flesh pressed intimately against her walls.
"Fuck, Granger...a bloody virgin?" His eyes were screwed shut in apparent bliss. "You should have told me."
It didn't even hurt—wasn't it supposed to hurt? "Hermione," she corrected him. "Please?"
"You should have told me...Hermione."
She couldn't control it—her walls clamped down on him fiercely as if they hoped to trap him there.
"Oh!" her eyes rolled back at the decadent sensation. His magic enveloped her, warm and inviting, and Hermione wanted nothing more than to careen of the edge of the cliff she found herself on, despite what he'd said. One more squeeze of the hotness buried inside her and she would be there.
"Don't fucking move," he said against her neck. "I'll pull out and leave you wanting...leave that tight hot pussy - gods! - clenching on nothing - don't think I won't!"
Hermione couldn't help herself; her walls clamped down on him so tightly she thought he may withdraw from the pain, but he only seemed to gasp out his elation, too gripped by pleasure than to follow through on his threat.
"So bad, Hermione."
She squeezed him again, her walls fluttering, and it was all she needed to spiral out of control.
She was flung headfirst into the abyss, and she was spinning - and breaking - and shattering - and screaming. The coil of tension that held her body taut had snapped and broke sharply, causing her to careen in continuous waves of pleasure.
"Fuck," Malfoy swore, suddenly snapping his hips into her quivering heat. "I've never- I usually…" A feral growl escaped his throat as he began moving in earnest. She moved with his thrusts, maximizing each stroke as rapture coursed through first her and then him.
Hermione had just enough sense to appreciate just how beautiful he looked when he was finally unraveled and free of any sort of mask. Merlin, but it was too much! Her body was so sensitive, and he was still moving, and she surely couldn't survive so many sensations.
It, most definitely, would not be enough.
~oOo*oOo~
