A/N: Thanks to all readers and reviewers, especially: Tuesday November (no, I'm not exactly sick yet of all the nice things you say about my writing… ;) Yes, this chapter and the next are a little disturbing, and we see that DDD's Draco has a dark side. But there's a lot more to him too, and we'll also see that), Brigid K, and Sometime Selkie (Lucius and his plots involving Astoria and Ginny… I can't reveal that yet! He hasn't forgotten about Astoria, though. But he wants to use her for other purposes. And Draco even scared ME in this chapter, but don't lose faith in him yet. ;) There's so much more to come with him.), and cuddlebear992.
This chapter has been, ahem, slightly abridged to fit the standards of this archive, shall we say, although NOT as much as some later chapters will need to be. The version on FIA is the unabridged one. So here's the story about FIA vs. ff dot net. Fics are rated in different ways, from Not Naughty to Extremely Naughty, which is kind of the equivalent of an G to NC-17 rating in film. FF dot net can't use that rating system because it belongs to the Motion Picture Association of America. (To understand more about the MPAA, including its shady, sinister history, see the fascinating documentary *This Film Is Not Yet Rated.* Basically, the way in which American films are rated is very screwed up—it's really just about impossible for a film to be rated NC-17 for violence, but for sexual content, it's very very very easy. However, this isn't only about explicit sex, but about many issues related to GLBT content, African-Americans having sex, women having fun during sex, any sex-positive stuff, etc. Remarkably explicit sexual content has been passed under an R-rating, as long as it shows people not enjoying what's going on, and rape scenes have rarely been enough to get a film rated NC-17.)
Anyway, ff dot net used to accept fics with the Extremely Naughty rating. Several years ago, they stopped doing it, and they only go up to Definitely Naughty now. Fictionalley doesn't accept these fics either, and actually, most archives don't. Never mind if these fics are the dumbest porn in the world, if they are literature, if they have socially redeeming quality, whatever—they will all be rejected. Maybe the system that's used really IS like the MPAA after all. But some archives do take the Extremely Naughty fics, and FIA is one of them. Find it at www dot dracoandginny dot com. And don't forget, y'all…
FIGHT CENSORSHIP! The rights you save may be your own.
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It is not sex that gives the pleasure, but the lover.
- Marge Piercy
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Ginny blinked and shook her head. The room was spinning round and round and round in the fuzziest way possible. In the very middle of an exceptionally fuzzy spin, it suddenly lurched to a halt, which did nothing good for her balance.
"Ooh," she moaned as her stomach gave an alarming swoop towards the floor.
"Let's not start that up again," said Draco, and she felt his warm, strong hands close firmly around her shoulders. He laid her gently back against the couch, moving with her so that she was still held within the circle of his arms. His face sharpened into focus. He was looking down at her with an amused smile.
"I must say, Weasley, that I've rarely had my ego flattered to quite that extent," he said.
"Wh-what?"
"Well, I've never seen a girl faint dead away at nothing more than the mention of my wanking off."
"You were wanking off?" she asked stupidly.
"Not right this second. I'm talking about what happened a year ago, on this very couch," said Draco. "Of course, I'm not going to claim that I haven't wanked off since then, because I have, rather often, but you didn't exactly ask me about that."
"Malfoy, what the hell are you talking about?"
He laid his hand on her forehead. "Are you sure you didn't bump your head when you fell?"
"Fell?" repeated Ginny. His hand was hot. Burning hot. His fingers were sending tendrils of flame through her flesh.
"Funny, I wouldn't have thought that this room was nearly large enough for an echo," said Draco. "You fell off the couch onto the floor. Don't you remember?"
"I.. yes… no.. not really. I don't know!" Ginny looked up at him pleadingly. "Malfoy, what were we talking about before it happened?"
"Ah…"
"Tell me!" She smacked his chest with a fist. He enclosed her hand in his own. Ginny gasped. His skin was on fire!
"You were, ah, holding forth on your interesting theory that I'd seriously planned to create posters of the time you so charmingly molested me last year, and then to share them with your coworkers at Flourish and Blotts. I was attempting to soothe you by sharing the fact that I hadn't even realized you were… ahem… physically satisfying yourself and using me as a prop until you'd nearly completed the process."
"Oh no." Ginny let her head fall back against the couch. He moved closer.
"That's when I added the information that I'd found it necessary that night to… shall we say… effect my own physical release upon your abrupt departure," said Draco. He paused discreetly. "You became rather worked up after that, Weasley."
Ginny's mind rapidly assembled various scenarios, each worse than the last. She'd tried to hit Draco, missed, and fell off the couch. She'd launched herself at Draco in an attempt to strangle him, succeeded, and fell off the couch. She'd kissed Draco and then dragged both of them off the couch.
"Perhaps it's better not to explain exactly what happened next," said Draco.
"Please don't," mumbled Ginny. "I don't want to know. I never want to know."
"Then I won't tell you," Draco said softly.
"Thank you."
"Oh, no thanks are necessary, Weasley," he said. His voice was very light, but when she looked at him quickly, she saw a strange expression. It flashed across his entire face, in fact, but then it disappeared so fast that she couldn't make any sense of it, whatever it had been.
Ginny smiled at him uncertainly. "I just wish I could remember," she said, more than half to herself. "Exactly what was going on right before I fell, I mean. Everything's a bit confusing. More than a bit."
"You put a wandless Sobering spell on yourself earlier, didn't you?" asked Draco.
"Yes," she admitted.
Draco shook his head and shook his finger at her in mock disappointment. "Really, Weasley. You're much more clever than that. Those sorts of spells are hideously unreliable; you'd almost have been better off doing nothing at all."
"You might be right, Malfoy," sighed Ginny. "I mean, I just don't remember almost anything clearly."
"Really? Nothing at all?" asked Draco, rubbing her upper back and shoulders.
"Uh…" said Ginny. His hands were tracing patterns of fire on her skin. His fingers were innocently touching areas that he could have touched in front of her entire family and everyone else she'd ever known, but they were drawing lines of flame down her breasts and stomach and thighs. She was on fire. Oh, gods! "Uh, you were telling me about Astoria. It was so funny, but she followed you here, and she worries me, I think you're underestimating her and what she might try to do—"
His hands stilled. "How do you know she followed me?"
"Um…" Ginny tried to think. It felt like a completely lost cause. "I don't know. It seems like common sense, I suppose. I know you told her that you didn't want to marry her and if I were her I'd follow you and try to get you to change your mind and—" She sucked in her breath. The fingers were drawing little spirals on her spine now. Each one burned.
"That's right, Weasley," said Draco. "You're so clever. That's exactly why Astoria was here. I told her to bloody well clear off, and she did. So don't worry about her. Now, what else were you talking about?" His fingers went up and down, up and down, tracing the fan-shaped curve of her back.
"I—ah—I don't know—Malfoy, what are you doing—"
"Reminding you." Each of the little strokes of his fingers tugged firmly between her legs.
"But I don't remember!" How can this be happening? Ginny wondered in horror.
"Are you sure?" Draco asked. There was definitely a teasing note in his voice. Could he possibly know?
"I—no—" This was impossible. But it was happening… wasn't it?
"Are you positive?"
"I think so—" Yes. It was, Ginny realized incredulously.
"All right, then." Draco stilled his hands completely. "I can see that I'll have to remind you. And my goodness, but what an interesting noise you've just made."
Ginny couldn't stop the stifled little sob in her throat, although she would have given a lot if she could have done. If he'd kept it up for even another minute or two—no, another thirty seconds- she would have shuddered in his arms, writhing in that damn green silk robe on that couch, and he'd certainly know exactly what had happened to her. Oh, dear gods!
"You were saying that Potter kissed like some sort of dead fish that had been in the refrigerator for about three days, and that you were glad you'd never shagged him. That you'd never shagged anybody, in fact. That you believed you were under some sort of no-sex curse. How unfortunate for you, Weasley. Why are you wriggling about like that?"
"Let me off this couch, Malfoy," Ginny said through gritted teeth.
"I don't think so," said Draco. "You're finally converted me to your point of view, you see. Running out into the rain dressed in nothing more than a silk robe would be completely irresponsible; you'd probably catch your death of cold. What a waste that would be. Do stop wriggling. I'm not letting you get away. I don't think that those black lace knickers will help you keep any warmer, either. Do all Weasleys blush that shade of red?"
"Let me go, Malfoy!"
"I can see that it's my duty to save you from yourself," Draco said, in what sounded like a very regretful tone of voice. He pinioned both of her wrists against the couch with one of his hands. She struggled against him, but she couldn't move in the slightest. He held her down easily. I can't get away from him, Ginny realized. Said realization plummeted down between her thighs, throbbing.
"Anyway, I'm far from done reminding you of all of the interesting information you saw fit to impart to me, Weasley," said Draco. "Next, you expressed your opinion that this no-sex curse might never be broken, and that perhaps you ought to lower your standards and accept any reasonable candidate that came to hand. I asked which qualities such a candidate might possess. You were then kind enough to state that you'd heard I might fit the job description. Very amiable of you. True, this might be seen as perhaps less than a compliment, considering the comment you'd made about lowering you standards—"
"Let go of me!" screeched Ginny, writhing in Draco's grip.
"But then you employed certain, ah, arguments, shall we say, to bring me round to your point of view," Draco went on. He kept her wrists tightly secured in one of his hands. With the other, he gently pulled down the robe, exposing the tops of her creamy, faintly freckled breasts. "You pressed these against me, Weasley. That was very convincing, I must say." He moved closer still. "You nibbled at the side of my neck. A very persuasive method. You know, I think you even bit my ear…"
Then he let go of her wrists.
Ginny immediately curled up into a small ball on the couch, crying. "Whatever's the matter, Weasley?" she heard him ask, his voice light and casual. She raised her head. "You know what it is!" she screamed at him.
"Oh, I was just teasing you a bit," he said. "No need to get so upset, is there? But then, you were teasing me as well. It was pretty dreadful. I suppose you'd rather not talk about it, but it would be such perfect blackmail material… really, Weasley, there's no need to carry on so… do try to get hold of yourself…"
"I, I, I can't," she hiccupped.
"This is worse than last year," he said. "Do you want me to lie down and pretend to be asleep? You could take advantage of me, if you like."
"This isn't funny, Malfoy, and you know it isn't! Oh, gods, what's happening to me? You know. You've got to know. What have you done to me? I feel like I'm coming apart!"
"I suppose you'd like to seduce me. You've got me drunk and you're about to make an assault on my boyish virtue. Weasley, you're a witch. But then, we already knew that—"
She could bear no more. She launched herself at him, crying out, trying to hit him with her fists, to kick at his shins, unable to endure another instant of his amused smile, or the sound of his superior voice.
"Weasley, have you gone mad? Were you bitten by a rabid Kneazle on the way here? Ouch! Oh, fuck!" Draco sounded alarmed, she thought with vicious satisfaction. Growing up with six brothers had taught her to fight viciously, too. "Ow—oh! Watch the family jewels, if you don't mind!" She felt him grabbing her wrists again. Just before he slammed her to the back of the couch, she wriggled her shoulders, and the robe fell completely off her upper body, leaving her bare to the waist. He stared at her breasts. She stared back.
"You've got me into this mess, Malfoy," she said. "I don't know how, but you have. Now you get me out of it."
"A man can only take so much, you know," he said.
Was his breathing was uneven? She wondered. "What's that supposed to mean?" she asked.
"Just what are you offering me, Weasley?"
"I…" What the hell was he expecting her to do? Think coherently? He was in for a disappointment, if so. "I don't know, just do something to make this stop, Malfoy, you have to do something!"
"Something?" He raised an eyebrow. "That's rather vague…What do you want, Weasley?"
"I have to get some kind of relief from this!"
"Relief? Do you mean the sort that the Witches' Corgi Dog Rescue and Tea Biscuit Society used to provide, or—"
"Damn it, Malfoy! I feel like I'm going to die if I don't come in the next ten seconds!" she shrieked, and then shut her mouth in horror.
"Ah. I see," Draco purred. "Well, we've reached my area of expertise, as it happens. Would you like me to give you the sort of relief I specialize in, Weasley? I'm really quite expert at it."
She turned her head away. "Yes," she choked.
"But what are you offering me in exchange?" he repeated.
"I… " Oh, she really couldn't look at him now. "Look, I'm not—I can't—"
"You can't what?"
"Um—"
He pinched her nipple, and she stifled a scream at the nearly unbearable stab of pleasure.
"You can't what, Weasley?"
"I can't have sex with you," she blurted. "I just can't. My first time can't be like this, don't you understand? The first man who ever makes love to me can't be… I mean, he has to… and I have to be in lo—oh, Malfoy, you know what I mean!"
A spasm of something that might have been pain passed over his face. "Yes, I know what you mean. But Weasley, you really ought to think about the fact that if I wanted to shag you, then you couldn't very well stop me."
A shiver of fear passed through her. Yes. Draco was right. He had her pinned to the couch, a silk robe half-slipping off her, he was so much stronger than she was, there was nothing she could do to escape him… she couldn't stop him forcing her to have sex with him. She was sure he could see the raw fear in her eyes.
Then he smiled, and the shadow lifted. "Oh, Weasley, don't look at me like that. I'm only trying to point out that you really ought to avoid getting yourself into similar situations in the future, if you don't plan to follow through. A man can only take so much. Remember?" He leaned forward and bit at the side of her neck, and she gasped at the fiery sensation. "We're not going to fuck, Weasley," he whispered. "No. That's too dangerous. But we can have a bit of fun, can't we? I do hate to see you in such a state. I'm not a monster, you know. I couldn't leave such a pretty girl in such pain and desperation. And you're desperate for it, aren't you?"
"Yes." The confession was torn out of her.
"You want me to give you release, don't you?" crooned the dark, smooth voice. "You know that I can make you feel like you've never felt?"
She nodded.
"Then ask me nicely, Weasley."
"I don't know what you mean."
He leaned closer to her, whispering in her ear. "I want you to beg me for it."
She hesitated. A bubble of sanity rose briefly to the surface. What the fuck am I doing?
He tugged at her nipples, and there was no pride in her anymore. "All right," she moaned.
"That doesn't sound much like begging to me," Draco said relentless. "I want to hear you beg me properly, Weasley."
Ginny was dimly aware that if she'd been in anything resembling her right mind, she would have been horribly embarrassed that she was actually about to beg Draco Malfoy for sexual release. But she wasn't in her right mind at all, and his fingers were a millimeter away from her nipples and his big hands were moving so that they almost almost cupped her breasts and she was so close to him and could smell his chocolate scent and she craved every inch of him absolutely desperately, and she would do anything, anything at all to get him at that moment of utter insanity.
"Please!" she finally blurted. "Please, Malfoy, make me come. I'm begging you. Do anything you have to."
"I'm free to explore your body in any way I wish?"
"Yes. Yes, just not… you know… no actual sex."
"And it's uncharted territory, correct?"
"Nobody's ever touched me this way before. Please- please- just tell me what it is you want, Malfoy—"
"That's what I want," he said.
"That's it?" she asked incredulously.
"For now," he said softly. "I need exclusive rights to explore you first, Weasley. I was a very spoiled child, you see, and I don't like sharing my toys."
For a second or so, the implications of what she was doing—what she'd agreed to let him do—nagged at Ginny's mind. She'd never done more than snogging, and just a bit of groping, none of which had been very inspiring. She'd wanted more for a long time. She'd ached for physical fulfillment with a boy she loved, and she'd imagined them happily exploring each other's bodies. But that was the catch. She'd longed for this to come packaged with love, and she certainly knew that Draco Malfoy didn't love her. He didn't have to tell her that. She hesitated.
His fingernails scratched at her nipples. His silvery eyes set into his angel's face shimmered only inches from hers. "Yes or no?" he asked. His hands slid down to firmly squeeze her breasts.
"Yes, oh, gods, yes," she moaned. "You can, yes, I'll let you do anything you want with me, Malfoy, just please, please…" She couldn't even finish the sentence. The blood in her veins had been replaced with boiling lead.
"Ahhh." Draco let out a long, long sigh. "You have a deal, Weasley."
His words barely penetrated her mind, but they meant that something would happen soon, and she started sobbing in relief. He patted her shoulder, and even that contact was like a stinging lash of fire. She jerked, and tears rolled down her face. "Ssh, shh, it's almost over. I'll take the pain away now," he was saying soothingly." Just lie back, Weasley, and let my fingers do their work."
He pushed her onto her back, and she fell bonelessly onto the couch, half-sitting, half-lying. Shh, shh, he kept repeating, and every touch of his hands made her jerk almost off the couch. "Don't torture me anymore," she sobbed, hardly even aware of what she was saying. "I went too far with this," he muttered. "I didn't mean for you to get to this point—I didn't want you to feel this sort of pain- shh, Weasley. I'll give you relief now. I promise I will. Trust me."
Trust Draco, the photograph-Ginny had said to her that morning, in what seemed like another time altogether. And she did trust him, with this at least. He won't leave me like this, Ginny realized. He wouldn't do that. He brought me here, and he's going to bring me back. A bit of calm seemed to spread over her then, knowing that everything would be all right, and the agony and absolute desperation throbbing through every inch of her body died down a little. She opened her eyes and watched Draco's hands carefully cup her breasts, one by one, as if on display. He stared down at them, no, she thought, he devoured them with his eyes, slowly and with great care. She blushed. There was just something about the way he looked at her now… Instinctively, her hands went up to cover herself.
"Ah, ah," he said pleasantly. "Don't make me restrain you, Weasley."
She gave a low moan at the thought; she couldn't help it, she remembered what he'd said much earlier about restraints, and his mouth curved up in amusement. "Or would you like that?"
"I don't know," she mumbled, looking away in embarrassment.
"Would you let me restrain you? Do you think you'd like it?"
Ginny shivered. "I would."
"So would I. But not now," Draco said after a brief pause. "Just keep your hands where they are, Weasley. Don't make me tell you again." He played lightly with her breasts, his touches constantly deepening, and in a flash, she understood what he'd been doing earlier. He'd taken time to think about how he wanted to stimulate her and exactly what would bring her the most pleasure. The thought was so incredibly erotic that she couldn't keep her hips still, and she started squirming. She heard his breath hissed through his teeth.
"You want more, I suppose?" he asked.
"Please," she gasped.
"You do ask so very nicely, Weasley. I don't think I can refuse you." Slowly, he bent his head down, and he flicked his tongue round and round each of her nipples in turn. She arched her back, crying out, as he deepened the pressure, sucking and lightly biting. But it wasn't enough, not nearly enough. He pulled her up to him and then his hands started roaming deliciously all over her body, her arms, her back, the curve of her bottom, her waist, and then down to her ankles, and it was all like food that she'd been starving for her entire lifetime and hadn't even realized it. His fingers slid up her calves to her knees, then teased at her inner thighs. Then, gently but steadily, he began to ease her legs apart. She stiffened.
"Shh," said Draco, throwing aside the green silk robe. Then his fingers stilled.
"What? What is it?" she panted.
"I'm just… looking at you," he said tightly. "You, in those black lace knickers. Spread your thighs a bit further."
She felt a little thrill of fear in spite of herself, but she obeyed him.
And she began to moan in relief. Fire. He was touching her with pure, white-hot fire, because nobody's hand could feel like that. The fire was shaped like long, knobbly fingers, and they explored her thoroughly, lingering on each sensitive area, exquisitely pressing on every nerve. Harder and harder and harder and the waves of pleasure built and built and Ginny couldn't breathe anymore but it didn't matter, all that mattered was that delicious agonizing fire and she threw herself up against it, shutting her eyes tightly. Almost there. Almost! Just a few more strokes, in just the right place—
Why was he stopping?
"Malfoy, please," she begged shamelessly. "Please, I need it, now!"
He looked down into her face, and his eyes were alight with something she couldn't understand, some intense emotion that made no sense to her, because they didn't feel any emotion like that for each other, did they? It was almost as if he was trying to find something in her that he couldn't quite see, and Ginny trembled on the edge of a sob. "Fuck, Malfoy, please! I really will die if you don't let me come!"
"Then come for me, Weasley," he said harshly. "Take what I can give you. It's all I can give you!" And he started again, oh, thank all the gods! She cried and trembled and convulsed in his arms, over, and over, and over again, and he relentlessly forced her to a pitch of near-unbearable pleasure each time. She had been waiting forever and it was all worth it, because every moment of agony and frustration was washed away and dissolved in the tides of unendurable pleasure he drew out of her, as inexorable as the moon pulling the tides out of all the oceans on the surface of the earth.
"It's true, isn't it?" he growled. "You've never had anything like this. Nobody's ever made your body feel this way. Never."
"No. Ohhh.. I don't know if I can take any more…"
"You can and you will." He pinned down her hips with one arm. "Yes. Push your hips up at me. Struggle. Now come for me, Weasley. Again. Again. Someday I'm going to have you, I'll have everything you can give me, do you fucking hear me, you promise me I'll have you and no other man will ever even touch-"
"You can't—you shouldn't- oh!" And she moaned for him, over, and over, and over again.
Then she began to slow down, and so did she, and finally they both came to rest. She was completely covered with sweat and panting so hard that she couldn't seem to even get each breath properly. When she could raise her head again, just slightly, she saw that Draco was still looking down at her. One blanket was just barely wrapped round his waist and she could see his bare, smooth, muscled chest. It was a thin blanket. Her eyes widened as she saw what lay below his waist.
"Um…" She really could barely even get her mouth to work. "Do you want me to, uh…" She pointed.
He closed his eyes tightly. "Weasley, I don't think you'd better touch me."
"But don't you need to, um…"
"Yes. I need to do something." He got to his feet, giving the knot of the blanket a vicious twist.
"Don't you dare go out into the rain to wank off!"
"It would be for the best," he said between clenched teeth.
"Do you actually want to?" she demanded.
"Of course I don't," said Draco. "I want to stay here and fuck you. But I can't do that, so my options are a bit limited."
"How about if you go all the way to the other end of the room? I'd really, really like to see it," pleaded Ginny.
Draco gave an alarmingly loud groan.
"What on earth—"
"I was rather thinking that maybe I don't even need to wank off, after hearing that," he said after a pause. "All right, Weasley. You'll get your wish." He walked all the way to the other end of the living room, just beneath the picture window, and dropped the blanket.
Ginny strained to see. Draco was standing in the shadows, and she chewed on her nails. The gods could not be so cruel. Then the moon moved out from behind the clouds. The rain had stopped. It fell partly on him, and she saw his body dappled by the light, his chest, his sinewy legs, his lanky hands and big feet, he was silhouetted, clearly outlined, and oh shite but what she saw, what was finally revealed between his thighs... Her mouth watered. She couldn't see every detail. There were just too many shadows, and the distance was just too far. But finally, finally, she did see him.
"Now watch me," said Draco. He grasped himself in one hand. "This won't take long. Not long at all. I'm ready to burst. You've made me this way." And she did watch. He collapsed back against the wall and slid to the floor, and she got up and ran over to him, holding his body, feeling him jerk and quiver, hearing him breathe something that could have been only a breath but could also have been a very, very slurred word. It might have been Ginny, my Ginny, my Ginny, my Ginny. Ginny. Mine. Mine. My Ginny.
But there were a lot of M's in it. The word might also have been Marie, she thought.
Either way, she laid her hand against Draco's sweaty forehead. "Let's go to sleep," she whispered. "Yes," he said quietly. He pulled her to her feet, and they walked to the bedroom together, the fire dying down behind them.