A/n: This is my first attempt at anything unabashedly raw. This is, as is, from my notebooks that I don't let anyone see. The girl shall remain nameless, simply because it doesn't matter WHO she is. This is all about Draco anyway, the only homage the git will ever receive from me, as a fan. The first mature themed thing I'm willing to publish...er....don't flame?
disclaimer: Buries face in hands....this is JK Rowling's character...what have I done?
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Draco drew the curtains back with a slow sweep of his hand, folds of forest green parting in silence. Sight was dimmed, faint visible outlines of a body in slumber blanketed only by a white sheet. The jade feather comforter had long been kicked back, and lay crumpled at the foot of the bed.
He smiled thinly, gaze running over a thin streak of flickering light streaming from the doorway. The hall torch seemed to split the shadows into asymmetrical perfection.
...perfection. Just the way a Malfoy liked it. He bent over the mattress, brow contorted into a look of fixed concentration; he scrutinized her face with his eyes, silver-grey and ever distant. She looked paler in the darkness, nobler, virginal. But he could fix that...Draco smirked and leaned back with an air of satisfaction, cocking his head to the side. He could fix that with his eyes alone, if he wanted to.
Still, there was time in the night, and more to examine at his leisure. Only as she slept could he feel total control in exercising his lust, while her own will lay dormant. A hand reached out, trembling slightly with careful hesitance, to stroke her splayed hair upon the pillow. It was as if fingers felt along silk. Then he took up a long lock gently, bending over to press the fine stands to his lips. His eyes closed, he drew a slow breath...
She smelled of jasmine, of gardenia, of lilacs. Fragile and faint, like something his mother would wear around the house. But she was also scented with the musk of moonlight, nightshade...he released the coil of hair, letting it slip between a forefinger.
He gazed upon the maiden's form again. She hadn't stirred, only the slow rise and fall of breath beneath the sheets. Easing himself slowly to sit on the bed, legs dangling off the side, two thin fingers reached out again to stoke her upturned cheek, savoring the feel of foreign skin beneath his fingertips. She was no goddess to the world till now, though a Malfoy was far above serving reverence. And dragons would rather grasp the grandeur for themselves, horde their coveted treasures.
Taking her chin in a cupped palm he pulled her face sideways, lidded eyes facing the ceiling. Slowly, with painstaking dark tenderness, a thumb pad grazed across her lips. They were slightly parted, warm to the touch and the color of dusty roses. A sweet whisper of a soft exhaled breath caught his touch, and Draco's shoulders caved in with a slight shudder.
No! He mustn't lose himself, the thief shall not be robbed of his own purpose. Like quicksilver his pale hand recoiled as if her breath had slapped him, and the senses stung themselves into his memory. Damn. She could arouse his wonder even now, unaware of herself. The temptress shifted sideways in her sleep, facing away from him. "Hussy" he spat into the still air, a cross between a snarl and an odd smile fixing itself upon his face.
She had asked for it. In her dreaming state, she had pleaded with him. Well...hah. He stretched out on the bed along side her, crossing his feet at the ankles, and eased both hands up to wrap around her frail shoulders. Fingers would around the lace of her dressing gown, he could have kneaded his hands longingly into her back, moved his loins closer, only a thin sheet apart from her. But the dragon toyed with his sleeping prey, shunning the thought from his mind. His lips leaned down to an earlobe, in a voice of a thousand silky whispers. "You'll never have me."
The night grew more silent still. The darkness darkened, shadows moved, eternity moved on. Draco moved back, his grip loosening, to stare icily at her lidded eyes. She slept on peacefully, deaf, hopelessly aloof to the words he wanted to ram into her soul.
'Damn!' an inward hiss invited impulse. He thrust forward to kiss her, hard, on the lips. His tongue forged it's way into her mouth, claiming her like a phantom that stole in unexpectedly. Eyes clenched closed, with the maddening dizzying feeling of triumph, he ravished all that he could for a brief moment, then tore his mouth from hers.
The brief infatuation had died in a small victory. Draco had taken what he wanted, and slipped from the bed, eyes still lingering for a moment on her face before he snapped the curtains shut and whirled, breathless, back into the hall. And yet the girl still lay in a deep sleep, unaware she was plundered in his eyes...