Warning: Lemons abound.. it's rated M. 'Nuff said.
Copenhagen, Denmark: February 1, 2012 AD. 11PM.
A blanket of silence coated the Danish streets as a lone figure walked along the cobblestone road. Footsteps reverberated with a rhythm which appeared slow and sure. The shadow of the figure was the cut of a very fine man. Somewhere in his early to mid twenties, his skin was firm and glistening with vitality. There was a bit of a swagger in the way he walked, and it was this sense of carelessness that would have allowed a normal observer, if present, to believe that this person was in no hurry. It was actually the contrary.
Draco Malfoy was very lost and consequently, very annoyed.
'Bloody wanker, trust Rik to give me the wrong address.' He reached into his pocket to scan the piece of parchment once more.
Ekvipagemestervej 346, Holmen
It seemed simple enough. 344... 345… 347.
Where was 346?
He had passed by this area three times already and was beginning to grow weary of the whole thing. All he wanted to do was unwind during his trip to Copenhagen.
Mix in a spot of R & R with business. His friend Ulrik, a native, recommended the place.
"Ah, well no matter." Draco said to no one in particular. He was getting ready to call it a night, when he remembered Rik mentioning a fine detail.
'This place is great, it's literally underground. The address was based on some rudimentary math, since there really is no such 'physical place' as 346.'
"Oh shit."
Figures that one of the few times he'd chosen to listen to Ulrik had actually been to his benefit. Draco walks up to the entrance of 347.
'This should be right… 7-4 is 3, and 3 plus 3 is 6.' He shrugged. It made absolutely no sense to Draco, but who was he to challenge the Danish? Muggle Danish at that.
He just wanted to get laid.
He used the brass doorknocker to request entrance. A small part of the upper portion of the door revealed a pair of menacing obsidian eyes, with a gruff voice to match.
"Passwordet"
"Give ild og Is" (Fire and Ice)
With that, the door swung open to reveal a completely black room drenched in purple light. It reminded Draco of those Goth clubs Blaise used to drag him to.
Bloody nonsensical man. Now was not the time to think about him and his antics. The bouncer bowed his head in greeting as he spoke. He was a tall, well-dressed, broad man with dirty blonde hair who looked like he had his nose broken one too many times.
"Velkommen hen til Skjult Nydelse." (Welcome to Secret Pleasures)
In kind, Draco slightly inclines his head. "Reservering nemlig Malfoy." (Reservation for Malfoy)
"Ak! Vi har blevet venter jer, Hr. Malfoy. Hr. Christensen er jeres sponsor Ja?" (Ah! We have been expecting you, Mr. Malfoy. Mr. Christensen is your sponsor yes?)
Another well dressed man comes to take Draco's coat before he forms his reply. "Ja. Taler du engelsk?" (Yes. Do you speak English?)
Draco wasn't in the mood to muddle through formalities. He wanted to get to the action.
"Ja, I do."
The young heir haughtily produces a crisp 50 Krone bank note. "Good, keep at it."
The bouncer furrows his eyebrows confusedly as Draco exits the foyer to enter the main portion of the club.
Studio lights flooded the dark atrium which was divided into multiple unlabeled tunnels. By instinct, he is guided through the second tunnel on the left which seems to hold the theme of taboos and fetishes. Everything under and over the sun in the realm of S & M, bondage, voyeurism, bestiality, necrophilia (and the list goes on and on) was present in their designated alcoves. Right outside of these, there were people who congregated to simply socialize and savor the scent of sex permeating the air with its pungency and promises of reckless ecstasy. In this spirit, Draco chose to explore his surroundings, opening a large purple door.
The door slid shut as Draco entered the room. It was a rectangular space dimly lit by candlelight and the small glare that came from the glass wall which spanned 10 out of the 12 feet comprising the room. Draco continued his journey to find something every interesting behind the glass.
A couple.
Their playground was shrouded in opulence. Cream carpeting provided a solid foundation for the king-sized four poster mahogany bed set in the room's center. Decorated with an Arabian theme, plush pillows, satins, silks and sheer crepes of royal colors flooded the enclosure, including the four posters of the bed. Cloaked in sheer drapings, the schema did little to cover the true treasure of the room.
That was the purpose wasn't it?
It was a voyeur's paradise, leaving nothing to the imagination. No comprehension necessary. Just pleasure… just release.
Eager to enjoy the show, Draco moved to sit and recline on the strategically placed black leather couch. Everything was well underway.
Strawberry blonde tresses covered muscled thighs and middle. A faint view of her lips furiously bobbing up and down a hardened member was the only evidence of her face. Creamy feminine shoulders and sloped back led to the limited side view of a backside continuous with another face. It was obvious that this man was well occupied as he paid homage between her thighs. Moans of arousal could be heard through the sound system feeding into Draco's side of the room. He spreads his legs in anticipation while deftly unzipping his fly to free his partly awakened self.
Draco's hands begin its ministrations as his eyes flit back to the glass. The woman's back, long hair, and derriere teased him whilst she rode her companion. Draco smirked and firmly palmed his erection in the same instant the woman leaned forward in order to increase her gyrations. Her ass is cupped at once to facilitate the man who was urgently pounding into her with each upstroke of his pelvis. Her squeals of delight tickle Draco—he knows she is playing with her prey. His thoughts reflect his feelings.
'She is riding him like a thoroughbred. Good girl…cum for me…hmm… magnificent.'
Precum provides slippery friction to Draco's hands as both sides continue to stimulate themselves. Although the show was quite charming, his eyes were yet still ravenous.
He needed more—he wanted more.
To see her face….her breasts… her sex. Taste her in his minds eye.
Little did he know that his silent prayer was about to be answered.
Her brazen softness was challenged by the brute strength that swiftly flipped her onto her back. She would have fallen over the foot of the bed if not for the strong pair of hands about her waist pulling her wanton depths straight onto his burgeoning phallus. The curly hair atop her pubis matched the ends of her tresses making contact with the floor upon her extension to finally reveal her ample bosom capped by cherry red nipples. Hooded lids framed an angelic face oval and smooth. Rouge lips were moistened by its native tongue, speaking its own language…
"Oh yes baby… fuck me hard!…"
"God I want you to cum inside me so bad… mmm…"
Incredibly turned on by her words, Draco closed his eyes as felt his seed threatening to start, squeezing the tip of his penis roughly to maintain control. Not yet, he told himself.
'I want to cum with her… I want to cum inside of her.'
And so he held himself as he watched her scream gyrate and moan. Her eyes were still closed so she did not know that she was being watched in her wild abandon, but her male companion flittingly acknowledged the presence of the blonde spectator while suckling his little strawberry's nipples. He possessed her lush body as a stallion would a mare, grunting as he pumped in and out of her. He wanted to conquer, so she gave him the illusion of being the conqueror. It was all good…
Just as long as he did what she wanted… and how she wanted it.
She loved the feel of a man inside her. The fullness that came with the male sex was absolutely amazing and gratifying. It came with the gift of the "little death"—shards of beautiful climax that allowed her to come out of herself. She was always escaping herself.
She needed to come out of herself.
And what better way to do this than with a stranger? She preferred no strings, it was cleaner that way.
However, she forgot being clean right now. She was a woman on a mission: a dirty girl.
"Oh yeah baby… let me squeeze you dry…"
"YES!…. DEEPER! YES!" She feels a droplet of sweat begin to make its slow sojourn from the underside of her chin….
On the opposite side, Draco continues his ministrations, studying her face and body movements. Pleasure surges through him as he settles into more of a groove.
'There is something familiar about her' he decides, although he cannot decipher what it is.
(sweat droplet travels from her chin to past the medial portion of her cheek)
His thoughts begin to run together. He increases his hand speed.
'I don't know any strawberry blondes… not like her.. .'
(from the cheek it follows the path of the lateral portion of the nose, heading for the forehead)…
'Her voice has an edge to it… demanding'
(Flashback)
Two uniformed teenagers stood within a poorly lit corridor. A brunette was roughly held against the wall by a menacing male presence.
He smirked maliciously. "You think you know it all, don't you?"
The girl struggled with futility against his firm grip. "MALFOY! Get your hands off … NOW!"
Draco laughed softly at the helpless girl beneath him. "Pothead and the Weasel aren't here to protect you from me… and let's face it..."
He brought his lips within a hairbreadth of those belonging to none other than Hermione Granger.
"You don't want them to…"
(Fin)
Draco shouts in pleasure as his eyes pop open in slight surprise. She made him cum.
'Merlin, it's her.'
(the sweat droplet begins to trace a speedy path from the base of her forehead. It leaves her skin to finally head for the ground)
'After all this time…. It can't be…'
He continues to finish, eliciting the remainder of his seed—never breaking contact with her eyes.
'Open your eyes.'
The couple came to rest at their nadir as the mystery woman cries out in orgasm, gyrating and bucking her hips. Feeling herself being filled with warm liquid, she yells in satisfaction.
"YES! YES! OH GOD!"
(sweat droplet hits the carpet with a thud)
Coming down from the overflow, she slowly opens her eyes and is greeted by the blurry outline of a stranger looking through the glass. She smiles inwardly, mind wandering.
'Ooh… we had a visitor the whole time.'
Still perched over the edge of the bed, she blinks once to clear her vision. It took all that was in her to not gasp at what she saw.
Even upside down, there was no way for her to mistake the man on the other side of the glass. Not in a million years.
(Flashback)
"You don't want them to…"
Hermione could feel Draco's breath tickle her lips. He was everywhere—and very dangerous. She had to be careful.
"Malfoy… don't do this."
"Don't do what? I told you Granger….stop assuming you know everything." And before she knew it, Draco had released her and vanished without a trace. She sighed a sigh of relief.
She wouldn't be so lucky the next time.
(Fin)
(Random thoughts flit back and forth)
'Merlin, it really is her…'
'It's been so long, there is no way he could recognize me. I look so different.'
'No amount of camouflage could hide those eyes, that face…'
'He looks even more like Lucius. I never thought I'd see him with longer hair…'
'Six years…long time Granger…'
'Six years wasn't nearly long enough. Goodbye, Malfoy.'
Breaking eye contact, Hermione Granger sits up and dislodges herself from her male companion. She is confident in her anonymity, calmly locating and slipping on her red silk nightie. Done for the night, she decides to make her exit.
Still in a daze over his latest revelation, Draco comes out of his reverie just in time to see a flash of feminine calf go through the door. Smirking in anticipation, he leaps from the couch and makes a beeline for the exit.
He busts through the door and immediately scans the perimeter for any sign of her. Moving through the crowd in various stages of sexual merrymaking, he fails to find a trace of her until he turns the corner and spots her at a distance sitting at the bar. It felt like an eternity to get from one point to another.
Tingling with expectancy, Draco makes contact with his target, placing a hand on her shoulder. The woman turns around, frowning in confusion.
She is not Hermione Granger.
It is with this realization that Draco recoils his hand as if burned, turning around to retrace his steps. He wasted too much time, and knew now that he wouldn't find her.
Obviously, she did not want to be found—but it was not up to her.
Because what Draco wanted, Draco would get—and he wanted her.
Plus, he loved to solve a good mystery as much as anyone.
"You're on borrowed time, Granger." He said to no one in particular, and with that, confirmed his extended stay in Copenhagen; as he could easily set up shop here or anywhere else at will. The world was his oyster.
And he fully intended to crack this shell.
A/N: See Ch 2 for full comments.