I cannot seem to catch a break. I pinch the bridge of my nose; a terribly cliché thing to do, but it does ease a bit of the pressure that has built up in my head.

The day has been long, and stressful, and I want nothing more to be able to run to the Floo and go home. I've been working for weeks on the newest project for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Luna was finally proven correct last month - and so I am trying desperately to secure legal and humane rights for the severely endangered Grainy-Headed Leckbirch. I laugh mentally as I think of the name - and then remember that I have two more letters to send by owl, and another petition to write.

I sigh, drawing out my quill to throw out a bunch of word vomit so that I'm able to call it a night.

The sudden whoosh of the Floo catches my attention. The office is completely empty - it's eight o'clock in the evening on a Friday. I stand up, quickly drawing my wand and slowly opening the door, only to see someone already standing in front of it. I go to fire a hex, but am confronted with a voice.

"Granger!" it shouts, and I look up to see none other than Draco Malfoy.

"I should go ahead and hex you anyway," I say, putting my wand away and returning to my desk. "What do you want?"

He smirks, his clear skin crinkling slightly around his mouth, his gray eyes sparkling a bit.

I frown. Malfoy is an Auror, which makes it even more curious as to why he is here now - truly, he has no business being here.

As if he has read my thoughts, he says, "I'm here with information from Harry."

Without asking permission, he takes a seat in front of my desk; his tall, broad body making the chair seem small.

"Could he not have sent that information himself?" I purse my lips, summoning a pair of owls and tying my last two letters to them, before sending them off.

"He could," Malfoy says, his large hands reaching to grab a hairpin that I must have left on my desk. He twirls it between two fingers. "But I chose to. He's got to get home anyway."

I nod, remembering that Ginny has broken her leg during a Quidditch match, and how much Harry loves to dote on her.

Malfoy rambles off some question about the legality of a certain mission, reading off a piece of paper that I spot Harry's handwriting upon. I give my answer, dotting the last t on my petition, before whispering a small charm for it to shoot off towards the receptionist's desk.

Malfoy looks up at me, a lock of his hair falling across his forehead. I stand, straightening the things on my desk, before I reach out a hand to demand the hairpin back.

"I need that back," I say. Malfoy smirks yet again, and I frown. I'll need to invest in anti-wrinkle charms at this rate.

"Why?" he asks. "Don't you have about a million more?"

I shake my head. "I like this certain kind, they have a special grippy side to them and my other ones don't-" I cut myself off. "You don't really care."

Malfoy laughs slightly, my hairpin still in between his fingers. I put my hands on my hips, scowling at him, before making my way around my desk to stand in front of him. I hold my hand out expectantly, and he still refuses.

"Give," I say, as if I'm talking to a dog. Or a ferret.

"No," he says, looking up at me again, his eyes wide and feigning innocence.

I grab for it then, getting a good hold on it before his other hand grabs my wrist.

In half of a second, I'm unable to process quickly enough what has happened. But the next moment that I become aware, I have been spun around and am seated in Malfoy's lap.

My breath hitches as I realize where I am and what has happened. He is so close. I feel small in comparison to his large body - and I'm confused. What is going on?

"Malfoy," I say slowly. "I want my hairpin."

He sighs, the breath grazing my neck. Wait - that's his finger.

"And I want a moment of your attention," he whispers, his voice low and husky.

I swallow, unsure of what his point is. He hates me. Last year, he apologized for the bullying and explained that his father instilled those racist beliefs in him: that he doesn't agree at all, that he's sorry for what he said. But he doesn't like me because of my personality. I also heard from my assistant that she overheard Malfoy telling a coworker in the elevator that he thinks I'm hideous.

I blink back the bite of tears at that memory. Realizing that nothing is holding me to Malfoy, I stand up, only to be tugged immediately back down.

"Where are you going?" he asks.

"Somewhere away from you," I spit back. "You don't like me anyway. Get your moment from someone else." Remembering what my assistant told me, I say, "Maybe someone you don't find annoying or hideous."

Malfoy's grip on my hips tighten, and I try, valiantly, to struggle away.

"Annoying?" he says. "Well, only on occasion - but you get what needs to be done, done. It's impressive, really." I hear the clatter of my hairpin on the floor somewhere in my office as he tosses it, out of my reach. "Hideous?"

I close my eyes then, bracing for the words that will soon come.

But no words do. Instead, I feel hot breath upon my neck, and then a kiss. My eyes fly open, unwilling to accept that Malfoy is the only other person in this room.

Malfoy continues. "If you're referring to the time that your little assistant walked in and was clearly eavesdropping, I was relaying a story where a business associate of my father's had called you, and other Muggleborns, hideous, and therefore providing explanation to the fact that that said man was not brought back alive on our last mission."

My jaw drops then. He places another kiss on my jaw, closer to my mouth this time.

"Granger, you are one of the most stunning women I have ever seen. All of you is gorgeous - but that bossy little mouth is what I like the most."

I turn to look at him then. "You're joking."

"Which part?" he smirks.

"All of it."

His eyes darken as he looks at me. "As much as I haven't shown it, I've cared for you for quite a long time, Granger."

I shake my head, looking down, until Malfoy puts his hand around my chin and presses up, until I'm looking at him again.

"I am many things, Hermione," he says, my name on his lips uttered like a spell; I'm instantly listening to every word he says. "But I am no liar."

I watch his mouth as he says these things, and he notices. The hand on my chin gently tugs me closer, until our lips are aligned.

I breathe in his breath for the next couple of moments, his hand tight on my hip and loose on my face, until I lean forward and make contact.

The kiss is rough; harsh. His tongue slips past mine, his teeth graze at my lips.

He grabs at my hips, turning me so I am facing him. My legs are on either side of his.

He grinds against me then, and I unintentionally gasp a moan.

He laughs a bit.

"Shut up," I say, righting my legs around him.

He pulls away from my mouth. "Now, Hermione, you always tell people what to do. What if I told you what to do instead for a change?"

The thought of that turns me on a bit, and I accidentally grind against him in response.

His eyes widen, and his pupils dilate. "So you'd like that?"

I nod, my eyes closing at the friction of him moving against me.

A hand wraps itself around my neck. I gasp.

"I would like an answer," Malfoy says.

"Yes, sir," I stutter back, shocked, once again, at the position I've found myself in.

"Good girl," he whispers.

His mouth returns to mine, slowly working its way down my neck until he reaches my white top. He undoes the buttons with his fingers, and I slide my arms out of it.

His gaze lowers to my breasts, covered in a plain white bra. I thank the Gods that I picked the one that has a bit of lace.

"Gorgeous," he whispers, and like a man starved, rips down the cups so that he can access my entire breast. His tongue circles around one, and then the other, until I am grinding hard against him, desperate for release.

Something changes then, and he stands, backing me up until I have hit my desk. He sits me down, standing above me while he removes his t-shirt and work trousers.

As he kicks off his shoes, I let my eyes wander over his body. He's muscular - in a way that makes me desperate to see his body move over mine. I try to ignore the bulge that I see through his black underwear.

He catches my eyes, though, and steps up to me, his crotch level with my chest, with where I am sitting.

He reaches down, grabs my hand, and places it on him.

He's hard. So hard, and I can tell he's big. The burn between my legs gets hotter.

He kneels, then, sliding down my body. He unbuttons my dress trousers and pulls them down my legs, pausing for a moment to take off my heels.

Standing back up, he mutters a charm, and everything on my desk slowly lands on the floor.

He looks at me then, and the look in his eyes is almost dangerous. I find myself trembling in anticipation.

He drops his briefs, then, and I cannot stop my stare.

He's perfect. My mouth waters at the sight, something that I can safely say has not happened before.

"Push your tits together," he demands. "I'm going to fuck them."

I do as he says, and he positions himself, leaning slightly down with his hips before snapping them up, his warm dick sliding in between my tits. I look down to watch. It's erotic, and I notice Malfoy watching too. My tits bounce as he stares, and he places his hands on mine as he thrusts against me.

He lets out a low moan, and my mouth waters in response. He must notice as I lick my lips, because he pulls away then, only to grab the back of my head and place his dick in front of my mouth. I open, and he pushes in.

I suck on him hard, wanting desperately to hear more from him. He groans; granting me my wish, and I grasp what I can't reach as he thrusts lazily into my mouth. I moan against him, and he lets out a strangled noise before he suddenly becomes rougher.

He shoves himself in my mouth at rapid speed, his hands tangling in my hair before he roughly tears me away, holding me a good foot away while he takes a few breaths.

"Hermione, you'll make me come like that," he says in a low voice, and I'm achingly aware of the burning desire between my legs again.

"Please fuck me," I whisper, desperate to feel him inside me; to feel anything.

He smiles.

Suddenly, and roughly, he grabs my hips and flips me up and over my desk, so I'm on my hands on knees on top of it.

"I would love to bend you over it," he whispers against my ear, "but I'm afraid I'm a bit too tall."

I stutter out a small laugh, and feel his lips make a trail down the back of my neck, and down my spine. He reaches my underwear, pink ones that do not match, I remember, and slides a finger under the elastic.

His lips continue, until he's on the center of my left cheek. I feel a sharp pain then, and moan in response.

He's bitten me.

I feel marked; possessed.

He does it again without warning, and I groan, arching my back and pressing my arms and tits to the smooth wood for some sense of pressure; somewhere.

Malfoy slides my underwear down my legs, pulling my knees and ankles back towards him as he drops my underwear to the floor. I hear him step in between my calves.

"Hermione," he groans against my ear, his hands tight at my hips. "I want you to say my name as I do this to you."

"Malfoy?" I question.

I receive a harsh slap to my ass then. "No, Hermione."

"Draco," I breathe, the word feeling funny; tangible.

"Yes, baby," he says, and I feel him at my entrance then. "God, you're so wet."

"All for you," I admit, pressing my face against my desk and brace myself for him.

"Good girl," he says, and all of a sudden, thrusts inside.

I scream. He's thick, but the perfect size to reach the back of me as he pulls back out to shove into me again.

He groans. "Gods, you feel so fucking good. Perfect."

Malfoy - Draco, I guess, leans forward to wrap a loose hand around the back of my neck and brings his other hand down to my clit.

Finally. A burst of heat explodes, the tension finally being relieved, as he works small circles.

"Draco," I say, moaning at the feeling of being touched. I keep one hand down, bringing the other one back to grab onto the one he has around my neck.

He slams into me then; his fingers pinching at my clit.

"I'm gonna fucking come," he says, and I feel myself tightening more and more.

"I'm on the potion," I breathe out. An invitation.

"Good fucking girl," he says, a moan tearing through his words. "I'll come inside you then."

I moan, the thought driving me closer to my own climax. Gods, I feel used. It turns me on even more.

Draco grunts, his thrusts getting sloppier, his fingers remain tight on my clit, as if he's determined to make me come too.

It works. "Gods, Draco, I'm gonna come," I whine out, pressing myself back against him.

His hand slips from my neck and grabs at my hip.

"Hermione," he moans. He thrusts hard, hitting just the right spot; his fingers helping to slowly unravel the tight feeling that started to build as soon as he sat me in his lap.

It hits, then. The submission. The fact that I don't like this man. The fact that he's going to fill me up with him.

My orgasm starts to rip through me.

"I'm coming," I cry out. I scream his name as I finally fall over the edge, right as I feel his warmth explode inside me, his moan overlapping mine.

"Hermione," he says, his voice deep and raspy; exhausted.

Draco continues to thrust inside me until I finish shaking and the throbbing from his dick stops.

"Gods," I breathe, and I feel him lean up to press a kiss to my temple, over my hair.

He pulls slowly out of me, and takes a step back.

"That's so hot," he says. I lean up and look back at him, and he motions to what's dripping out of me, down my legs, and onto my desk.

My desk.

I groan inwardly at how gross that probably is, but hear Draco quickly summon his wand, casting a cleaning spell on me first and then himself, before wrapping an arm around my waist and bringing me back against him. With my feet flat on the floor, I lean my head back against his chest.

"Look at your desk," he laughs into my neck.

I oblige, and cringe again. "Wow."

Draco turns my head towards him, kissing me again, his other hand gentle on my waist.

He pulls away, walking around to gather our clothes. He kneels in front of me with my underwear.

"May I?" he asks. My eyes widen as I notice how sweet he's being; how kind.

I place a hesitant hand on his shoulder as he pulls my underwear back up my legs, and then does the same for my dress pants. He stands, turning me around away from him again, as he clasps my bra.

After he's finished with my shirt, he kneels again for my heels.

"Malfoy," I say, a nervous laugh at my throat. "That was unnecessary."

He steps away to pull on his own underwear and pants, before grabbing his shirt and tossing it over his shoulder.

"You can still call me Draco," he says, before coming closer to me, a hand placed on my elbow as he says a cleaning and a disinfecting charm for my desk, and says another charm to lift my things back to where they were. "And I wanted to help you back into your clothes. It's the least I could do since I'm the one that took them off."

I laugh, brushing my hair out of my face.

Draco leans in, tucking a stray hair behind my ear.

"I enjoyed that," he says, looking down at me.

"I did too," I whisper. I try not to think of the coming awkwardness; I try to hold onto this moment. He's... different than I thought.

"I never disliked you," he admits. "I actually like you quite a lot."

I smile, breaking eye contact. "No need to lie, Draco. You can say it was just the sex."

"No," he says, harshly now. "You deserve so, so much. Not just someone who wants you for your body."

I laugh again, looking away at my far wall.

His grasp on my elbow tightens. "I mean it, baby," he says.

Again with the baby. I melt a little, but try not to show it.

"I don't want you just for your body, either," Draco says. He smiles. "It's Friday."

I nod, looking back up at him. "Yes, it is."

"Care to join me at my place for dinner?" he asks. I hear the hesitation in his tone.

"Really, you don't have to-" I say, and he cuts me off again.

"I want to. I'm just nervous, is all." Draco's thumb circles the inside of my elbow.

I nod, deciding that I like the Draco I see, too. I want to see how this goes.

"Alright, then," Draco says. I pick up my bag and follow him through the door, feeling almost bad for my office after we defiled it.

I laugh at my own stupid guilt.

It isn't until after we step through the Floo and arrive in his foyer that he turns to me, places a hand on the side of my cheek, and slides my hairpin through my hair.