Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or his world. I just play with them sometimes, but I always put them back where I found them.

A/N: So. Hi. Long time, no see. I'm a big girl now, and apparently that means I don't have time to write anymore. These fics have not been abandoned, but having time to work on them just doesn't happen much these days. Brother to Dragons and One Kiss From You will be finished eventually. I simply can't guarantee a time frame for each chapter. I'm hoping that things in my life will settle down considerably in coming months, and that I'll then be able to set up a more regular posting schedule. But don't get too excited; that may still only mean a chapter per month, rather than one per year. Just stick with me, and I promise the wait will be worth it.

So there is smut in this chapter. And I need to distinguish: One Kiss From You, the companion piece, will have lemony moments. This chapter contains straight-up smut. Ginny and Draco's relationship is darker in nature than Harry and Hermione's, and I believe both of the characters are themselves more carnal, as well. This story reflects that, so I want you to be prepared for a distinctly different flavor here.

Chapter dedicated to brianaangel, MagicMariah, and Neca! This picks up immediately after the previous chapter. I suggest a quick re-read if you're feeling left behind.

~% %~

Now the serpent was more subtle than any beast of the field which the Lord God had made. And he said unto the woman, hath God said, Ye shall not eat of every tree of the garden?

-Genesis 3:1

Once back in the Slytherin common room, Draco fell onto one of the many plush sofas, swearing silently to himself. How could he have been so stupid? How could he have been so careless, so unaware? To be caught with Ginevra in the broom closet would have meant expulsion, most likely, and worse, being outed to his father and the Dark Lord as a blood traitor, just as bad as the rest of the Weasleys. He hadn't meant to do that.

Not entirely true.

He had had every intention of shagging the bright-haired Gryffindor in that broom cupboard that evening. He just hadn't meant for it to be the most passionate, intense fuck he'd ever had. And he was fairly certain that she had never had it as good, either.

He throbbed, half-hard again, with the sensory memory of her, wrapped so tightly around him. Nothing with Pansy had ever had such an incendiary effect on his entire being. She was willing to please him, certainly, and often went to his bed only for that. She enjoyed his ministrations, but believed that her place in his bed was to be there for his pleasure and nothing else. Yet, she rarely took part in anything he did to her. She would move without comment between positions and never make a noise, except to tell him to come inside her. He always did, and he always watched her swallow the light blue potion afterward. He was nearly certain that Pansy had been a virgin their first time in fourth year, but she had never felt so tight and wet around his—

No.

Mustn't sully the night's events with thoughts of his repugnant betrothed. This was the only opportunity he would grant himself to have Ginevra's tender flesh, and he wanted to savor every scrap of the memory, even as it burned through his mind. He would allow himself to commit this flame to memory, and only in the loneliest of his days would he hold himself against it, as to a candle in the wind. His mind traced leisurely back through their heated encounter.

The delectable shape of her mouth, open in surprise as she saw the damage to his back. How he longed to feel those lips wrapped around him, her eyes widened in surprise as he spilled—

Stop it.

The glistening sheen of sweat across her face and chest, cool against his face as he rested in her bosoms. If only he could have rested a bit longer, nuzzling his face in her delicate frame, falling asleep safely in her—

You have to stop.

Her nails digging fiercely through his flesh, drawing blood as he wrenched the pleasure from that sweet haven between her legs. The burning passion, raw between them. The violence of their act, the desperate rush to be made as one. The moment of silence, before the passion, when they gave in together. The moment when she broke him.

But even earlier in that same night, the chase. His conquests were more and more offerings these days, he had come to realize. Girls from all houses of Hogwarts came to him in the night, wondering what the man could teach them in the dark, wondering if the whispers they had heard were true. They came willingly to him, wanting to learn more than a stuffy boarding-school education could provide.

But Ginevra had been different, his first seduction in months. And, since Pansy had made so sure that everyone knew what a fox he was in bed, his first seduction ever in which he had not known the outcome. That had always been part of his fascination with the girl, after all. She had never reacted to his jibes, taunts, or even his advances in the way he expected her to. Those few, tense moments in the broom cupboard, when he had invited her to return to him that night, had been so erotic he could taste it. In the small, heated room, he could smell her arousal, could feel her skin trembling beneath his fingers. And yet, he had known that she might still refuse him, known that her pride might still overpower his best-laid lines and even her own obvious desire for his body.

Their coupling had been heated, yes, but it was set aflame by the tension between them, built up over years of smirks, letters, and a half-friendship. Such a tension could not have been abated by a single act of debauchery. Surely, he supposed, the summer would only served to fuel their joint passion, so that when they returned together in the fall, they could perhaps—

Impossible.

He had to stop thinking this way. It had been a one-time thing. That had been the deal. He hadn't been able to let go of how badly he wanted to take her for his own, even for one intense, shining moment, so he had given in, but just this once. It could not happen again.

Tired of his mind running in the same circles, the same cyclical debates over and over again, Draco pulled down his emerald sheets for the last time that year, drawing them over himself, still fully clothed in his exhaustion.

Though he had told Ginevra that her body would be the one screaming for him, he found himself dreaming of her all night long, and in spite of the fabulous release he'd had with her, Draco woke on the last day of the school year to find that the decadent images in his mind had translated to dirty sheets.

~% %~

Ginny did not sleep that night.

Her walk back to Gryffindor tower was uneventful—or at least, it must have been, she supposed, as she did not remember making the journey—and she slumped silently into one of the over-stuffed armchairs near the dying fire.

The last fire of the year.

It seemed a maliciously appropriate metaphor, and Ginny could not help but resent the traditions and prejudices that kept her encounter with Malfoy from being something anyone could ever know about. She hated that someone who filled her with such passion and desire was someone destined to be forever hated by those she held dear. It was so unfair that his family's decisions had already set his life in motion, set him on a path that would only cross her own in battle and bloodshed and hatred.

She'd found Malfoy attractive for years, she knew that much. Anyone would have to be blind not to have seen what a beautiful boy he was, but somehow, somewhere, in all the letters and hexes and sneaking out to see him, Ginny had developed…something else. She wasn't sure what it was, if it was heartache or a bruised rib, but she knew that it was physically painful in the center of her chest, and that pain seemed to spike with every thought of him.

She felt the tears on her face before she realized she was crying, and let out a quiet sob into a particularly ugly decorative pillow.

It was just too unfair for words. He was wonderful, even if no one else saw it. Ginny had seen that happy smirk on his face, so different from the disgusted, superior sneer he often wore. The warmth of his hands, the heat of his tongue, the power of his lust. All things she had known that no one else had, she was sure. What they had shared in that closet was different, somehow more powerful than anything he'd had with other girls, of that she was certain.

Her head fell heavily into her hands, and she realized that she still held the tiny flask in her fingers. Looking down at the leather pouch, she knew what it was even before she popped the top and the telltale scent of talc floated up to greet her. Of course Malfoy would bring a flask of contraceptive with him to meet a meaningless fling in a dark closet.

With a sigh, she swallowed the bland, vaguely bitter potion and felt the strangest sensation of tightness deep inside her body, in a place she was rarely physically aware of, save a day or two each month. This was similar to those monthly days of pain, but didn't hurt. It was not altogether unpleasant, but certainly foreign to her. At the very least, she supposed, that took care of any negative consequences of her decision to go meet him.

She did not go to breakfast the next day, opting instead to take her trunk out to the horseless carriages, where she sat for over an hour before the other students began trickling out.

The shrill voice of Pansy Parkinson approached, and she slunk back against her seat to avoid his gaze, though she could not stop herself from staring out the window to watch his retreating back.

~% %~

Draco had never found it so difficult to contrive a run-in with a fellow student. He had done it dozens of times with that so-called Golden Trio, finding just the right moment to toss a snide comment their way. Nearly every new conquest he made started with a well planned meet-cute, and yet he could not, for the life of him, find Ginevra in the corridors, at breakfast, or even on the walk down to the horseless carriages on the last day of term, though he looked for her everywhere as subtly as he could.

Despite such difficulties, he boarded the Hogwarts Express with high hopes for seeing her just once more before leaving for the summer. He knew now that nothing would ease his desire for her, and the best he could do was sneak moments in cupboards and fantasize, desiring her from afar.

The early afternoon sun was crawling up through the sky when Draco finally caught a glimpse of her as he was doing his Prefect rounds at the nearly deserted farthest end of the train in an attempt to escape Pansy. The girl had convinced herself that they needed to have a good-bye-for-the-summer shag on the train before the end of the trip, and there was no way Draco was going to stand for that. When he spotted her, Ginevra was walking past with a group of students he recognized as members of their secret Defense Against the Dark Arts meetings of that year. He had to admire her tenacity in teaching herself defensive magic, and if it was anything to go by, the fact that she had survived battles with full-grown Dark witches and wizards was a sign that, if nothing else, Potter had been a good teacher. He believed, of course, that it had mostly been Ginevra's own natural talent and quick learning that had done it, but her instructor had to be given some praise, if grudgingly.

He didn't know what made him do it—perhaps it was the way her gaze caught his, as though intentionally, or maybe the fact that he could still remember how she smelled afterward when he had lain on her chest, like sweat and sex and femininity—but as she neared him, his hand reached out to touch the door of an empty compartment he had just checked and found empty. He thought he saw the slightest of nods as her eyes flicked to the door and back to his face, but he could not be sure, so as soon as they had passed by, he ducked into the compartment and sat down to wait.

Draco wasn't sure how long was too long to wait for someone who might not be coming, but if this allowed him to shirk his Prefect's duties and avoid Pansy for the remainder of the trip, perhaps he would stay put. Not that that meant he would wait for Ginevra until they pulled into King's Cross. It meant more that he would stay there, and her eventual arrival would be circumstantial, trivial, even, next to his decision not to leave.

He had himself so convinced he didn't care whether or not she arrived that he almost stopped himself from standing and whirling around like a child at Christmas at the sound of the sliding compartment door.

"Hullo," she said uncertainly.

"Hello."

Ginny could feel the strain in the air, and it made her unsure. She had half-expected him to grab her and be as forceful and possessive as he had the night before, but now she doubted that his desire to meet with her was of a sexual nature. It was surely his need to inform her that the night before had just been a one-time thing, that he didn't want her hanging on him or following him around. Though she had been expecting this at some point, Ginny realized suddenly that there was a small bubble of sick despair building in her stomach at the thought that it was already over.

"Did you want to tell me something?" she asked at last, ready to get the rejection out of the way.

"No," he replied. "I just…" Was it so bad to admit that he wanted to see her before the summer? There was nothing wrong with inter-house friendships, really. Or inter-house fucking, come to that. She certainly wasn't the first girl he'd taken who wasn't a Slytherin. "I just wanted to see you again."

"Oh?" She sounded doubtful, and he supposed he couldn't blame her; it was a very out of character thing for him to say.

"Is that so hard to believe?"

"Without an ulterior motive of some kind, yes."

Well, he supposed that was a fair enough summation of his usual character, though he would never admit how much it stung him to know that was how she saw him. "And if there was one?" he prodded, wondering how willing her appearance in the compartment had been. "Would you stay, or would you leave?"

"Well," she muttered in a rare moment of flustered confusion. "Well, I suppose it would depend on the type of ulterior motive."

He smirked at her, his signature seen you naked, want to see it again smirk. The meaning wasn't lost on Ginevra, if he could judge by the answering eye roll and accompanying chuckle.

"Aren't we incorrigible?" she mused quietly. "I've certainly heard how often you return to a conquest, but I feel perhaps a big smug that you barely made it a whole night before you came crawling back for more."

The teasing in her voice reminded him of their discreet correspondence during their first years in school together. It savored strongly of companionship, of something closer to friendship than he had ever experienced with another Slytherin, or indeed within his own family. She sounded almost fond of his smarmy ways and sex-god reputation.

"Well, I didn't see you exactly running the other way, either," he drawled in response, slipping seamlessly into his teasing smirk.

"It'll be a long, lonely summer, I expect. It'd be downright masochistic to avoid you, wouldn't it?" She took a step, closing the gap between them slightly.

He could hardly believe his luck. She was teasing him.

"Then why have you been avoiding me all morning?" he whispered, taking a step toward her.

Ginevra glanced sideways, a flash of vulnerability sliding across her features before she regained her composure enough to reply, "I wanted to find a compartment early."

He chuckled lowly, sliding his fingertips up her arm in the barest touch he could manage, appreciating the trail of goosebumps that followed the same path across her fair skin. He didn't let her obvious lie deter him from their little game, however, and he replied, "We seem to have found one alright."

"I was looking for a bigger one. This one doesn't have room for all of us."

He smirked down into her bright hazel eyes, brushing her hair back behind her ear. He bent down slightly, to whisper in her ear, lips barely touching the delicate skin there. "It's plenty cozy for two, though."

Draco could feel as much as see her nervous glance at the very transparent door of the compartment, leaving their indiscretions available for any passers-by to see. "But Malfoy," she whispered, a bright flush creeping up behind her ears, "anyone could walk by and see."

He scoffed quietly. "This far down the train? Hardly likely." He paused, grinning at her sudden discomfort, before adding, "But if you're concerned," he gestured his wand toward the compartment door, whispering, "Obscuro."

Ginny watched as the panes of glass seemed to ripple like water. A spot of blackness appeared in the center, as if a drop of ink had fallen onto the liquid glass. It spread outward, carried by the motion of the waves, until all the panes of glass had turned dark.

"Muffliato."

Ginny's ears were instantly filled with a faint buzzing noise, like the sound of faeries in the garden on a hot summer night. "What is it?" she asked, as the buzzing retreated, realizing only vaguely that her face was tilted up to meet his, only inches away.

"Anyone passing by that door will hear nothing but that buzzing noise," he replied, barely needing to breathe out the words for her to hear. "Colloportus."

This time, Ginny could readily identify the noise of the door sealing shut, an odd squelching, as of trodding upon a slug. They were well and truly alone, the obscured door sealed shut and all sounds hidden from anyone wandering about in the corridor.

So they would be doing this again. After the release of the night before, Ginny could hardly be disappointed in this turn of events, but she couldn't help wondering why.

"Why?" Apparently, she couldn't help asking, either.

"Why what?" he asked quietly, his voice still husky.

"Why are we doing this again?" She stepped away from his ardent gaze, trying to clear her head.

"Because, Ginevra," he purred, matching her movement so that they remained close, "we're amazing together, aren't we?"

His response surprised her a bit, though she could hardly deny the truth in his words. Unable to form a rebuttal that was both coherent and honest, she scoffed gently, wishing it had had a more scathing sound as it came out of her mouth.

"Aren't we?" Malfoy sidled even closer to her body, pressing his frame right against hers, so that she could feel with trepidation his stiffening length pressed against her stomach. His next words were spoken directly into her ear, and she wasn't sure if it was the way his lips brushed against the shell of her ear as he spoke, or the words he was saying that left her trembling with barely concealed arousal. "You've never had it so good as me, Ginevra. And that was just a quick leg over in a broom cupboard. Imagine what I could do to you with a bit of space to stretch out in here. Or if we had a whole bed, oh! What delicious things I would do to your sweet little body." He gripped her hip with one hand, dragging the knuckles of the other down the side of her neck.

"Ah…" The shaky sound slipped from between her lips, somewhere between a whimper and a sigh, while her traitorous head tilted off to one side, exposing her neck.

"Is that what you want, pet?" His hands met at the back of her neck, holding her precisely where he wanted in order to nibble across the tender flesh there.

"Unh…" Her inability to form words was beginning to irritate her on principle, so she nodded her head in agreement. It turned out to be too much to hope that that would be enough for Malfoy.

"I want to hear you say it, Ginevra," he hissed gently, drawing her toward the seats on one side of the compartment. One hand released from caressing her throat, moving down instead to palm each of her breasts in turn. "Say you want me. We both know it's true."

"Mm…Ah…" This really was getting ridiculous, she thought. She was a well-spoken young woman, and this smug bastard had effortlessly turned her into a squishy pile of— "Oh bloody hell!"

Draco chuckled darkly, and she looked down to where her bunched-up skirt fell across his wrist, the hand attached stroking her lightly through her knickers. He pulled his hand out, leaving the wool skirt to swish freely around her knees, and whispered, "Say it."

She gasped, visibly shaking head to toe now. He was beginning to worry that he'd pushed her past the ability to speak at all—an impressive feat it would be, even for him—when she finally said in a breathy, dry voice, "I want you, Malfoy. P – please."

He crooked a finger under her chin, forcing her to look him in the eye, and gloated internally at the glazed-over look in her eyes. "There now," he said softly, gazing down on her blissful expression. "That wasn't so hard, was it Ginevra? You even said please. I quite like that. Very polite little Gryffindor, you are. Now I'll show you all the naughties I have to share."

Draco made quick work of her shirt buttons, noticing that she had shed her school robes but left the rest of her uniform on. She loosened her red and gold necktie, but didn't get around to removing it, having been distracted by the ease with which he unclasped her bra. He didn't seem patient enough to get her clothes off entirely though, or perhaps he wasn't as sure as he led on about no one walking in on them. In either case, the feel of his lips across the sensitive skin of her stomach pulled her away from rational thought once more.

She hadn't realized the expanse of her belly and ribcage could be so erotically touched. Usually with other boys, they had stuck to the main areas of interest. Malfoy, it seemed, was familiar enough with the female form that he knew how to turn every inch of her into a new erogenous zone.

He feasted upon her flesh like a man starved of touch—or, he mused, a man about to be starved of touch for an entire, endless summer—while she arched her midsection toward him. His hands slipped lower, feathering the lightest of touches across her skin. He reveled in the gooseflesh that rose up to meet his touch, noticing that her nipples had both grown taut as well. Leaving his hands to trail teasingly low across her belly and backside, Draco raised his head, intent on grabbing that small pink bud between his lips.

The colors of her Gryffindor tie caught his eye, however. His first inclination was to rip the offending garment from her slender neck, the second to then bind her wrists with it. As he pulled back from her, however, he was struck by how delicately her small, pale breasts framed the vibrant school tie. Even with her bra pushed roughly up, he could see a distinct, naughty beauty in having this fantastic creature bared to him, sporting the colors of the house that made this lust so forbidden in the first place. Draco took a moment to imagine her wearing nothing but that tie, stretched out in wanton need across the green silk of his bed. He tucked away that image to support a good wank or two later in the summer, and returned to the real thing at hand.

Glancing up at her face, he saw Ginevra's hooded eyes gazing down at him, waiting patiently for his next move. He was suddenly forcefully aware that he hadn't yet kissed her, which for some reason just seemed wrong in the flow of things. Draco stood abruptly, taking her fiery hair in his fists and smashing his lips to hers in a violent kiss that left them both gasping for air. It reminded him of the quick, mad shag they'd had in the broom cupboard, and he gentled his touch ever so slightly, wanting to savor this time.

His hands slid down her back, loosely pinning her arms to her sides while his tongue deftly explored the soft contours of her mouth. Ginny was so filled with wave after wave of burning lust that she could hardly understand what was happening around her. She could feel her own arousal puddling uncontrollably between her legs, could feel it overflowing and seeping out to stain her cotton knickers. She could feel her limbs trembling delicately as she waited for Malfoy to do something more concrete than teasing his lips across her jaw, or down the side of her throat, or grazing his teeth across her— "Oh hell!"

Draco smiled against her collarbone, making note of that hyper-sensitive bit of flesh to return to later on. Ginevra stood in his arms, shaking noticeably, the tremors growing with each passing moment. He began to worry that she might start to seize, when her dry voice whispered, "Please."

Well, if that wasn't enough to undo a man, Draco didn't know what was. He didn't even stop to tease her as he normally would, ask her, Please what, Ginevra? Do you want me to touch you? Tell me where you want my touch.

Instead, he switched their positions, so that he could lay her across the length of the compartment seat. It wasn't quite wide enough that she could lie down fully upon it, but with one foot each on the floor they were able to make the space available work. Draco watched in earnest fascination as her knee drew up, causing her skirt to slide up her thigh, exposing flesh he had only been able to feel in the dark the night before. The warm scent of her arousal floated up to meet his nostrils, and with a single, deep inhalation, Draco knew what he had to do before anything else.

Even with a foot bracing her on the floor, Ginny could feel herself slipping off the compartment bench. She pulled her other foot up closer to her body to provide herself more support. A brief thought that doing so would expose her more to the man above her was quickly quieted by the notion that, that was the point if this after all, wasn't it? So while she didn't intend it as an invitation, Ginny certainly didn't feel any surprise when Malfoy's hand found her crooked knee.

She felt only slightly surprised when that hand trailed down in the inside of her thigh, inching toward her aching wetness. She wasn't surprised, but also wasn't expecting it when his hands curled up under her hips and raised her bum off the seat. She was slightly surprised when his hands didn't immediately removed her underwear, and she was absolutely shocked when she curled up to look at him, and his face was nowhere to be found.

Though she could easily make out the back of his platinum blonde head just above the line of her skirt.

She could hear him breathing, inhaling her scent, as he pressed her thighs even farther apart, and the thought made Ginny quiver in mixed embarrassment and arousal. She'd had Michael Corner perform oral pleasure on her a handful of times, but it was usually quick, something he did because he felt he should.

Draco was fully prepared to die after this experience, because surely nothing could be as fantastic as what he was about to taste, if her scent alone was anything to go by. No longer satisfied by only inhaling her, Draco settled between her parted legs, able to see the wetness that had soaked through what appeared to be innocent cotton knickers. He smiled to himself at the sight, then gently prodded the dark spot of fabric with his tongue.

They both gasped, Ginny at the erotic tease, and Draco at the flavor of her, clean and feminine, and somehow just as floral as the rest of her. Creeping back around her hip, Draco used his right hand to tug the guarding fabric out of his way, revealing her glorious red curls, dampened with her own arousal. He'd hardly ever seen a more delectable sight.

Ginny could do nothing but tremble and whimper under his touch as she waited for the fantastic tongue of Draco Malfoy that she had heard celebrated in secretive whispers.

The first touch of his tongue to her flesh was less aggressive than Ginny had expected. Michael Corner had always dove in with gusto, taking the same approach he did to shagging, and assuming she liked it as rough as she did sex. While Ginny had never had a problem telling her boyfriends exactly what she liked at every stage of intimacy, having a boy's face between her legs felt so taboo she didn't quite know how to critique the technique. Moreover, it was so clearly a chore to her current paramour that she suspected he would stop altogether if she made him feel inadequate.

Malfoy, on the other hand, seemed only too pleased to take part in this task.

After his teasing taste of Ginevra through her thin cotton knickers, Draco decided to draw things out for both of them. After gazing down at her bared womanhood for several seconds in abashed want, he slid his tongue across the seam of her thigh. Allowing his tongue to wander closer to her centre, Draco drew one fleshy lobe into his mouth, suckling at the tender flesh and revelling in the sensations she created in his mouth.

This was undoubtedly his favorite part of most women, the boundary between the softness of the rest of her body and the silken bliss of her pussy, the two velvets separated by coarse curls. He moaned softly, savoring the rough texture of saliva-matted curls against his tongue on one side of her lip, and when he slipped it to the other side, the faintest hint of her inner folds and the nectar they held. He moved his mouth all the way up the side of her sweet quim, purposely avoiding her clit as he worked his way down the other side.

The sounds Ginevra was making were sinful, at best. She was a wanton goddess, panting and begging for a more substantial touch. He pulled back, pressing her skirt onto her belly so the afternoon light from the train window could illuminate her body for his feasting eyes. Her curls were darker red now, matted with his own spit, no longer fluffed out together to hide her from his needy gaze. With her legs spread, the swollen flesh of her sex was split ever so slightly, so that he could see a small, glistening spot nestled at the base of her slit, where her body opened up to him. Knowing his tongue needed to be there right that moment, Draco knelt back down, spreading himself across the narrow space of the compartment seats.

Ginny's hands covered her own eyes, as though she could hardly stand all the sensations, and had to cover her line of sight to mute one of her senses. Everything happening was so intense, so much more real and passionate than anything she had experienced before. Malfoy's mouth latched onto her without hesitation, knowing just how to bestow attention in all the best ways.

When he sat up, flipping her skirt over her lower stomach, Ginny assumed he would take her then. His hands settled on the inside of her thighs, pressing them outward, and she waited for the blunt, thick head of his cock to impale her.

Oh, was she surprised.

Draco brought his tongue to a point, and pressed it directly into her slit, piercing her delicate folds easily with the gush of wetness hiding between her lips. Her answering cry of shock and sudden rise into a half-sitting position made him look up at her, smirking as best he could while his tongue smoothly made the line from the outside of her hole to wind up and around her clit.

Ginny looked down at the boy between her legs, saw him stare right at her as his tongue touched her most private places, watched his tongue moving around, and could smell her own arousal. Brain overworked again, Ginny fell back, throwing an arm across her face to save her poor, overheated mind from trying to process more images so hot she thought she might die.

The ability to form coherent sentences was long gone for Ginny, but that image of his eyes staring so powerfully into her own seemed to sap her ability to filter anything coming out of her mouth.

"Oh, fuck," she whispered, mouth too dry to speak more clearly. A harsh swallow helped a bit, but then Malfoy's tongue went back down to her hole, poking into her just enough to make her aware he could do more, and she gasped loudly. He teased her mercilessly, pushing in slightly to make her think he would finally do it, then pulling his tongue away to kiss, suckle, and lick another unexplored bit of flesh.

Ginny had the fleeting thought that perhaps she ought to tell Michael Corner to stop doing this entirely, as she knew now his clumsy attempts would be pointlessly ineffective next to Malfoy's well-practiced skill.

Draco didn't say anything as he worked his mouth on and around her sweet, nectar-filled peach. She was nearly swollen closed now, and he had to use two fingers just below his mouth to spread her lips open so that he could delve into her tight body. He knew she was beyond words, knew how desperately she needed him to finish her, and the smugness it filled him with was smothering.

When he finally pierced her fully, pressing all of his tongue that he could into her hot, tight twat, his lips and nose pressed into the wet heat of her, Ginny lost any remaining inhibitions. She could not stop the hand that reached down to palm the back of his blond head, holding him down to her aching pussy. She also couldn't stop the wild bucks of her hips, trying to gain even another milimetre of his tongue inside her, nor did she even attempt to block the keening moan that slipped from her lips, begging, "Don't stop. Merlin, Malfoy don't stop. Un...I need...just a little more."

Never one to disappoint a lady, Draco flipped his tongue in expertly practiced motions, fucking her with his tongue, eager to bring her to her first orgasm of the afternoon. One hand came up to circle her clit, but found her knickers in the way, soaked through now with her juices and his saliva. He grabbed the thinning fabric and tugged. The tip of one finger found a torn seam, and with a harsh flick of his wrist, the offending fabric settled beneath her bum, leaving her fully bared to him.

Hardly missing a beat, Draco dove back into her, free now to explore every bit of wanton flesh without the annoying barrier of clothes. His tongue flashed out of his mouth before he'd even bent down fully, the digit spearing her upon impact, while his nimble fingers were able to once again wage war on her distended clitoris.

Ginny was lost in the ecstasy of his double attentions as hand and mouth worked together to deftly undo her at the seams. She could feel her orgasm approaching and was shocked, having never before come from this. Her other hand reached down to join the first, holding Malfoy's head and neck in the perfect position to finish her.

Draco could feel from the stuttering thrust of her hips that Ginevra was painfully close, but he decided to hold her off just once more. Switching his digits, he plunged two fingers into her slick tunnel, sliding in easily from her wetness, despite her being just as tight as he remembered, while suckling her clit gently with his lips.

"No!" she gasped above him, arching her back and whining. "Go back, please, go back. I was so close." His throbbing dick agreed wholeheartedly, urging him to finish her, so he could get lost in her body and find his own release.

The fact that he ignored her flatly made Ginny suspect he was fully aware of what he'd done in prolonging her orgasm. Or at least, it would make her suspect it later, when her mind was once again functioning. Nevertheless, Malfoy seemed to be gifted no matter what he was doing, and she soon felt herself returning to her peak.

Draco had intended to let her finish this time, end her agony in one final explosion. He was committed to making her come harder than she ever had in her life, and his fingers worked tirelessly inside her, pushing her closer and closer to that edge, determined he would not stop until she came, writhing in his hands.

Suddenly, a sensation far too gentle for the situation distracted him for just a moment. He looked up, slowing only slightly, to find Ginevra's small hand smoothing the sweat from his brow. The rest of her, in stark contrast to the delicate touch on his face, was the image of an utterly debauched mess of a woman. Her hair was half plastered to her face with sweat, half bushy and out of control as it slid against the rough fabric of the compartment seats. Those lovely eyes were hidden from view, with her head thrown back, mouth moving wordlessly in a slack jaw. A flush had settled across her face, working down to stain her lovely, pert breasts and heaving abdomen with a tinge of bright pink, contrasted nicely against the clean white of her shirt.

It was exquisite.

Ginny kept one palm to the back of his head, but loosened her grip so he could look her in the eye. Her glazed hazel eyes met his, and she licked her lips and had to swallow repeatedly before managing to beg, "Go back, please. I want it the other way."

"You don't like this?"

"I do, I do, I so do," she assured him. "Only, I-mmhm-I want to-" She broke off, suddenly shy.

"Tell me how you want it, and I'll give it to you," Draco whispered hoarsely. It was a sincere sentiment; nothing pleased him more than thoroughly pleasuring his partners, and he found himself inexplicably concerned that this particular partner be satisfied in every way.

Bravery and desire giving her strength, Ginny said in a rush, "I want to come on your tongue."

Draco could do nothing but stare for half a moment, until his body caught up with his stunned brain, before instantly granting the most erotic wish he'd ever heard. He plunged back into her tight recesses, foregoing to the use of his fingers to press his face flush against her pussy, forcing his tongue to new depths inside her.

"Oh, bloody hell, yes! Mmm, yes that!" Ginny moaned, no longer in control of her mouth, or the rest of her body, for that matter. Her hands found purchase once again in the fine strands of his hair and her feet scrabbled across his back, while her hips ground shamelessly into each thrust of his tongue. "Fuck me with your tongue!" she begged, feeling the tightness curling inside her, coiling tighter with each motion.

Draco reached down to his belt buckle, fumbling one-handed to open his belt and pants. The rough fabric beneath him kept freeing his pained cock from being an option, so he settled for pushing his trousers down, leaving his knickers in place as a protective layer. He wanted to be ready to take her as soon as she finished, wedging into her hotness while he could still feel her walls spasming for him.

"Ma-Malfoy! Yesyes, just there! Oh, Malfoy, I'm-I'm going to-"

The keening cry that rent the air, Draco thought, was the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard, and it seemed never to stop as Ginevra wriggled and writhed beneath him. A fresh wave of her sweet juices rolled into his mouth as she rode out her orgasm against his face.

When he could feel her spasms slowing slightly, he knew she was past the crest and was now riding out the smaller waves, which was precisely how he wanted her. With barely a pause to tug down his knickers and wipe his mouth on his shirt, Draco crawled up her body, sheathing himself without effort as her hungry body pulled him in.

She seemed hardly surprised by his actions, and rather than speaking or even looking at him, she pulled him down to kiss her. Ginny moaned at the flavor or herself in his mouth, something she had always enjoyed when Michael Corner went down on her. The kiss was wet and sloppy as she drug her tongue through his mouth, pulling her own juices from every surface while her hips still ground up to meet his erratic thrusts. Neither pulled away from the kiss to breathe, opting to pant heavily into the kiss, heating the air between them. Despite her very recent climax, Ginny could feel a second already creeping up on her.

Bent over the compartment seats, Draco couldn't find the leverage to fuck her properly, so he cradled her rag-doll limp form in his arms and pulled her up to straddle his lap as he sat squarely on one of the seats. She gasped, but didn't stop grinding or kissing him, too lost in sensation to care much for her surroundings.

Ginny was vaguely aware of the new position, of how much bigger he felt and how tightly he filled her like this. As she rode him, she quickly learned that her clit was crushed against his abdomen each time he impaled her, once again forcing her toward that edge of ecstasy. She ripped away from the kiss to grunt, "Ungh, Malf- I'm-ah, again."

"Again?" The words floated hotly across her ear, tugging at something deep and primal inside her. "You're going to come again? With my cock inside, are you gonna come on my cock, Ginevra? Gonna squeeze that hot quim around me while you scream my name?"

His filthy, delicious words were a new experience for Ginny, and one she found she enjoyed. "Yes," she gasped, still proud enough even in her lust-hazed mind to return in kind. "Yes, I'm going to come on your thick cock, gonna come all over you. Let me taste it again," she added, pulling him by the hair into another kiss. His answering groan of surprise carried the taste of herself on his breath, and just like that, she was on the brink.

Draco could feel it as well, and his impending climax answered with a throb. A sudden urge took him as he goaded her on, "Come for me Ginevra. Scream my name. Call me Dr-"

But his final request was drowned out as Ginny once again called out his surname in climax. The disappointment he couldn't quite quell was just enough to pull him away from the edge of his orgasm, even as he felt hers ripping through her body and joined with her again in a kiss.

Rather than going on nonstop as he had for her first orgasm, Draco held still inside her as best he could, smoothing his hands across her skin where he could reach it, her rumpled clothes where he couldn't. Her limbs moved spastically around him while her mouth roved across his neck and shoulders, her slight fingers tugging at the buttons of his shirt. He allowed Ginevra to remove his shirt, shrugging off the wrinkled material and leaving it stuffed behind him.

Content for the moment to enjoy her lovely attentions, Draco rested his head on the seatback behind him, eyes closed and neck exposed for Ginevra's mouth

*Ginny was entranced by the texture of the sprinkling of hair across Malfoy's chest, as fine as the rest of his hair and so blond as to be nearly invisible against his even paler skin. His arms were equally pale, though she was delighted to find a smattering of sun freckles dusted the tops of his shoulders. As she ran her hands across his bare skin, Ginny continued rocking her body gently against his. Small ripples of pleasure still ran through her, and she realized absently that he hadn't come yet, still hard inside her.

Now that she had been fulfilled-twice, a feat no one else besides herself had ever managed-Ginny was once again in full possession of her wits and pride, and decided that Draco Malfoy deserved a round at his own game. Placing her hands on his shoulders, she drew herself up, revelling in the tight pull of him inside her. Unable to resist a repeat of the sensation, she sank down again, eliciting a deep groan from Malfoy. His groan became one of protestation, however, when she pulled herself off him completely. Her body cried out against the sensation of emptiness, but first she had to make him beg as she had.

Draco waited in distress to see what her next move would be. Surely Ginevra wouldn't leave him to it now? He hoped, for more than one reason that he wasn't prepared to think about at the moment, that she wasn't going to leave him there just yet. His hips moved of their own accord, arching up to seek the relief of the tight heat inside her. But she was having none of it.

To stop Malfoy's attempted reentry, Ginny quickly covered her mound with a hand. While her hand was there, it decided it may as well do something about the aching desire she felt. But that meant that she was now holding her balance with the strength of her thighs and a single hand on his shoulder. The burn in her pussy was soon competing for attention with the burn in her legs. She hoped, for both pride and pleasure's sakes, he'd prove even easier to crack that she had been.

"Say you want me, Malfoy," she egged, repeating his own words back to him mockingly. "We both know it's true." The venom she'd hoped to insert into her voice was somewhat dampened by the breathy note of arousal.

A very brief internal struggle ensued, during which Draco's pride protested against admitting the obvious to Ginevra, and his cock promptly told his pride to sod off.

"I want you, Ginevra," he groaned almost instantly.

Caught unawares by Malfoy's unguarded response, Ginny could only manage to reply a relieved, "Good," before rising above him again.

Draco supported her weight by gripping her hips, purposely leaving Ginevra to grip his shaft with her small, warm hand and position his tip at her entrance. In other circumstances, the moan he gave at that sensation would have been embarrassing, if the lovely girl in his lap weren't making equally erotic sounds.

Almost as soon as Ginevra regained her steady rhythm riding him, Draco could feel himself approaching the point of no return, but knew that she wasn't quite close enough yet. He turned his head sharply, catching her hand on his cheek. Turning back slightly so he could look her in the eye as he did so, Draco watched her carefully as he took the tips of two of her slender fingers between his lips. He worked his tongue over and around the digits, and though he could taste the bitterness of his Sleekeasy's Hair Potion on her hand, he couldn't be bothered by it at that moment. No doubt remembering his talented tongue swiping across even more sensitive flesh, Ginevra had closed her eyes and moaned in a way that should have been made illegal.

"'Ere," he grunted. Taking the same hand by the wrist, he placed it between them, whispering, "Touch yourself for me."

"Can't finish me off yourself?" she teased, though it was hard to take her jibe seriously when she gasped and immediately began working at her clit with the two wet fingers.

"Oh, I could," he snarked back, deftly replacing her fingers with his own for a moment. "But it's so much hotter to watch you get yourself off while you ride me."

Well then, Ginny thought, if Malfoy wanted a show.

Placing a steadying hand behind herself on Malfoy's knee, Ginny leaned back, pushing her breasts out and using her other hand to expertly manipulate her own pleasure as they thrust together in unison. This kept him from plunging as deep inside her, but it also meant that he ran against that secret ridge inside her with every motion. She gasped loudly and felt his hands tighten briefly on her hips in response. An amorous moan yielded the same result, and then Ginny made sure to vocalize every bit of pleasure she experienced.

At first, the competitive nature of their first coupling seeped into the small, hot compartment. Draco caught one nipple in his mouth, using a hand to toy with the other between his fingers. Ginny, unable to free a hand without falling over or ruining her own orgasm, clenched down around Malfoy, dragging her body along his length, revelling in every bulging vein that moved inside her. In turn, Draco lifted his head to capture her in a fierce kiss, thrusting his tongue and his cock into her in matching rhythm.

Malfoy's strong arms wrapped around Ginny, pulling her flush against him. After a brief struggle to free the hand trapped between their sweat-slick bodies, Ginny once again took advantage of the fact that she could grind her sensitive bud directly against the firm flesh of his abdomen. Her hands came up to grip his slender shoulders. The way he was holding her made his arms and chest bulge deliciously, and Ginny feasted on the offered banquet, her hands sliding across his bared torso.

When they finally had to tear apart for air, Draco kept her held tightly, and she rested her forehead against his, eyes screwed tightly closed as she worked herself over him, searching for sweet release.

"You're close, aren't you?" he rasped.

Without opening her eyes, Ginny bit her lip and nodded, humming in agreement.

"So close, my lioness," he whispered, lips brushing against hers as he spoke. "Come for me again."

"I want-I mean, I need-" she struggled to put words to the something missing. "I need something-else, more. I don't know." Her eyes screwed shut again, this time in evident irritation with her own fickle body.

"You need something else?" he asked. "Something more than this?" He thrust hard into her, lifting her body off the seat so that her legs dangled around him.

"I need you!" she gasped in sudden realization as he lowered back to the seats.

"I'm right here," he murmured, brushing her hair.

"No, I need you," she tried again, trying and failing to quite meet his eye. "I need you to...you know."

"I don't." He did, of course. But hearing her say it would be so much fun.

"Come first," she finally admitted, coloring more deeply than he thought possible. "I want you to finish, in-inside."

In normal circumstances, Draco would have had another litany of filthy words poised on the tip of his tongue, ready to throw her dirty desires back on her, urging her to an unexpected orgasm with his words alone. With any other girl, he'd have told her how naughty that made her, what a slut she must be to want his seed inside her, to need it, to let that be what made her come. But in this situation, hearing her ask for it was enough to undo his quickly unraveling self-control. He came with a shout, pouring his sounds of passion into her mouth in a violent, messy kiss.

"Yes, yes, yes," she chanted, slapping her body against his with such fervor, he wondered that she didn't hurt herself.

Ginny could feel him swell inside her at her words, and only moments after, he was releasing into her, warm and wet, and just what she needed.

Through the heavy-lidded haze of his own orgasmic fallout, Draco watched as Ginny approached her third orgasm of the day. Unlike the first two, she rode herself to this one in absolute silence, so concentrated on her own pleasure that sound failed to escape her throat. Without her cries of passion and pleasure, Draco was free to really look at her for the first time since entering the compartment. It was surreal to see her, so close, his for the moment, yet so far removed from him in reality, taking himself into her and giving nothing but mind-blowing pleasure in return. He watched as Ginevra's mouth opened wide in an O shape, heard her breath hitch once, and saw her fall apart in his lap. Her midsection seized, and she appeared to have lost all control of her own limbs once again, clamping her knees into his hips and clawing at her own skin, utterly lost in the sensations.

Without a doubt, Ginny knew that she had never come so hard, or so many times, in her short life, and she suspected strongly that she never would again, unless Draco Malfoy was once again welcomed into her bed-or train compartment, as the case may be. Immediate plans for the following year, moments they could duck out and be intimate, began flowing through her mind before the thought of who she was fantasizing about brought her screeching to a halt.

Draco had the brief thought that the sound of his own breathing was superfluously loud in the tiny compartment before she was standing and beginning to right herself.

Ginny quickly discovered that standing up was a bit of a feat, as her hips complained from being spread so long, and her legs were too shaky yet for her to stand without having to lean against the wall. As soon as she felt confident her legs wouldn't literally buckle in front of Malfoy-really, could she think of anything more humiliating?-she set about putting herself to rights. Having been taught cleaning spells well by the bustling Mrs. Weasley, Ginny was able to remove the majority of sweat, saliva, and other bodily fluids from her skin, though she had to suppress a shudder as she whisked away the puddle of thicker substance smeared across her thighs. Her own inability to control her desires was pushing her nerves, already frayed by the week's events, to the breaking point. When she found the torn-out gusset dangling from her waist instead of the perfectly fine, if slightly worn, panties she had put on that morning, and looked up to see Malfoy smiling lazily at nothing in particular, all amorous feelings for him evaporated. Really, she barely even noticed the drop of nearly opaque fluid oozing from the tip of his spent cock, and her mouth hardly went at all dry at the sight.

"And my knickers, too?" Her irritated voice pulled Draco from his post-coital haze.

"What?"

"Last night, you tore my bra off, and now you've destroyed my knickers!" Ginevra wrenched off the tattered cotton garment and held it up as proof. "I'll have none left at this rate!" She flushed suddenly pink at the implication that she expected such encounters to continue, but he noticed with admiration that she made no statement to correct herself.

"I'll get you new ones." She looked up at him in surprise, and he wondered what on earth had made him say such a thing. He had never purchased anything beyond the occasional shiny trinket for Pansy—he had found it distracted her whenever she heard rumors she didn't like—and he wasn't at all sure what would possess him to offer to buy Ginevra new undergarments, of all things. That just smacked of intimacy, and this had to stop now, for both their sakes.

"I don't want your money, Malfoy," she spat, though there was little malice behind it.

"But I ruined them, didn't I?"

"Yes, but—" she sputtered, unable to come up with a really good reason that he shouldn't. For whatever reason, she couldn't come up with her usual brand of heinous vitriol. She blamed it on the orgasmic effects on the brain, rather than any lingering affection for the sodding great prat. "But I don't think either of us wants much to do with the other anymore, and anyway, I think it was—well, I mean to say…I think you've made up for it already, if you get my meaning."

"Oh."

"Yes," she replied lamely. "Anyway, I'd better be going, before someone comes looking for me. We've all got a compartment together to sort of, you know, work through things that have happened this month."

As she was reaching out to open the compartment door, his thin fingers appeared to stay her hand. She looked back at him questioningly, but he was staring so fiercely at the place where his hand rested on her wrist, she wasn't sure he even remembered her presence.

Draco stopped to try and gather his thoughts, to come up with something witty or clever or snide or impressive to say to her, but he could think of nothing that would combine the two worlds that were currently warring inside his mind. Instead, he looked her in the eye for a brief moment and did something that he had never done after sex before, not even with Pansy. He wrenched her arm, pulling her to his body and crashed his lips down upon hers, as though drinking in her essence to try to sustain him for the long summer ahead.

"This can't continue on," he muttered between kisses, unwilling to leave her lips for anything.

"Why not?" she asked innocently. Her hands curled up into the lapels on his shirt and groaning, he pulled her back down into the seat of the compartment, drawing her into his lap in a more caring manner this time. After a few moments of his response including nothing more substantial than kisses, she added, "Because of your reputation?"

This assumption stilled his lips just long enough for her to pull away slightly and look him in the eye. "No," he whispered, burying his face in her neck, inhaling the soft, flowery scent that often surrounded her. "No, if it were just school gossip, I'd—I just wouldn't—" He cut himself off before he had a chance to say anything too dangerous. "It's nothing that simple."

"Then what is it?"

"I just want to kiss you," he whispered, unaware until it had left his mouth what he had said. For the first time, he just couldn't care that something so forbidden had fallen out of his mouth. It was the truth, and Ginevra had been his for the night before, so perhaps they could have just a few more moments of that.

"But not for long," she reminded him gently, returning his kisses with less fervor than before.

He sighed heavily. "Because, Ginevra," he whispered. "There's a war on. He's back."

"And our families are on different sides? I know it's difficult, but—"

"Ginevra," he said slowly, unsure whether or not she had yet realized this, "we're on different sides of the war."

"Are we?" Her gaze was level and unflinching, and from this close he could see the tiniest of golden flecks. He had never questioned his parents' loyalty to the Dark ways, had never thought of his desire for her as anything less than traitorous, some shameful lust he could not stop, but staring into her eyes he wondered for the first time what his own opinion was on the subject. But this, this was too far. He would not let her push him so far as to question his loyalty to his family and tradition.

"Yes," he answered flatly. "We are."

"Alright then." She stood, and he could already feel his arms cooling with her absence. Turning away to straighten her skirt, she added, "Thank you. For last night and just now, I mean. It was lovely—well, not lovely, I mean to say it was—"

"Ginevra," he said, almost too quietly for her to hear. But she did, and turned once again to look.

Ginny knew that this was likely the last time she would ever be alone with Malfoy, and while there were a thousand pathetically simpering things rushing through her mind that she could have said, and another thousand scathing attacks ready to be launched, the only thing she could think to say was, "Why do you call me that?"

"Call you what?" Her question had caught him off-guard, especially as he had been considering how green her eyes were that day.

"Ginevra," she replied, as though it were obvious. "You've always called me that."

"It's your name," he said in a similar tone.

"Yes, I know that." She was starting to get irritated again; she hadn't thought he would be so difficult about a simple question. "But every else just calls me Ginny."

Malfoy stood, cupping her face between his hands. It was a tender gesture that she had not expected from him, and it nearly frightened her. He looked down at her for a moment, as though pondering his response, before he responded, "Ginny is a name for a little girl." He kissed her forehead delicately. "Ginevra is a woman's name."

She paused for a long moment, staring up into his eyes and noticing again that there was just the barest trace of blue among the pale grey—perhaps it was only a trick of the light, but she was sure it was really there—before daring to whisper, "Then what sort of a name is Malfoy?"

"It's what you would call a boy you detest in school," he replied, just as quietly.

"And Draco?"

"Yes?" He had never heard his given name on her lips before, unless it was being spat in anger, and he found that his name was quite safe in her mouth, spoken with the dignity it had been intended to possess.

She smiled, hardly able to breathe through her pounding heart. "No, I meant, what sort of a name is Draco?"

He stopped to think on the answer to this question, loaded as it was. He could easily have tossed out something joking to ease the tension, told her it was the name of a man who had given her the four best orgasms of her life in less than a day. He could have said it was the name of a proud man who had to live up to his family's expectations and remain loyal to his upbringing. He could even have said that it was a name of a man who could not be seen with someone of her inferior class and stature.

But he said none of these things.

What he leaned down to whisper into her ear was, "It's the name of a man who would keep you, if only he could."

Ginny's hand found its way of its own accord to clasp one of his where it rested still on her cheek. Her other hand wound around the back of his neck, drawing him down toward her for a final kiss, as she whispered, "Draco."

They stood in that sweet, tender, treacherous embrace for as long as they dared, until Draco pulled away at last. With a heavy sigh he pulled away from her, kissing her forehead and pressing a small object into her hand as he had the night before. Ginny kept her eyes closed, trying to memorize the smell of his fancy, intoxicating cologne, but regretted it immediately when she heard the compartment door unseal and then close with a soft click. Her eyes flew open and she whirled around in time to see the flip of his black school robes in the edge of the newly transparent pane, her hand grasped tightly around the leather flask.

~% %~

A/N: If you'd like to keep reading this fic, or OKFY, I strongly, strongly suggest using the Author/Story Alert functions. Once again, posting will not be resuming on any set or regular basis, but I am continuing to work on these stories, and they have not been abandoned. So if you are very patient, I hope that you will find it pays off.

Rock on, keep reading, and as always, review!

cj596