Nipples

By N0b0dY.

Rated XXX (you know it!)

Summary: He'd seen more than his fair share of nipples and had turned into a sort of connoisseur In his eyes the perfect nipples were, pink and cherry-like and smooth yet hard when aroused. Like Granger's.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter! I just thought up the smut down here that you know you want to read!

Nipples.

Draco Malfoy could think of that right now and nothing else and it was driving him insane.

He agreed, with his physical needs, demands, cravings, obsessions, whatever you choose to call it. He was a 17 year old hormonal hot-blooded male teenager. He was bound to want it.

The thing was, his obsession, strangely, pleasured his objects of pleasure more than it did him. Perhaps, he decided that he liked knowing that he could make someone gasp and moan in delight. He delighted in knowing that he knew just where to touch someone to see that ecstasy swimming in their eyes. He delighted in seeing flushed face, weak grins, looks of utter stupidity after that moment of absolution. He loved knowing that he did that to them.

But what he loved most in his art of fucking a girl, a woman, a female, actually, was their nipples.

He'd seen more than his fair share of nipples and had turned into a sort of connoisseur when it came to them. In his eyes the perfect nipples on a woman's breasts were lush, pink and cherry-like and smooth yet hard when aroused. The breasts themselves would be perfect symmetrical globes of cream, soft to the touch and tasted like heaven. Although he came across few that he liked, he yet had to come across the exact perfection he desired.

And that he seemed to find nowhere. To his disgust many times, he'd come across shriveled prune like excuses on mammoth bags of fat that the girls believed were their chests. Maybe he was exaggerating, but he was a Malfoy. Nothing that wasn't better than the best would do for him.

He smiled as the dilemma before him unfolded. He was sure, he knew who had the most perfect nipples. Ones that he could suck on, nibble, tease and graze with his fingers and do whatever he wanted to with them. And who was that? The one girl he hadn't touched, the mudblood.

Oh, don't get him wrong, when it came down to physical pleasuring something as stupid as racial differences wasn't going to bother him. He'd slept with mudbloods, fondled half-bloods and the purebloods were daily appetizers. His only criterion was, they had to be female and with a rack up there, thank you very much.

But this one particular mudblood, he had spited and angered and tortured and teased and tormented and bullied. Though that should've made it easier since all his other objects of pleasure he had obtained using just one of the aforementioned tactics. And he had used all on this one. But she was different. She did what the other's didn't do.

She didn't back down.

And earlier, Draco Malfoy was perfectly fine with that. He had so many other women at Hogwarts and outside that he could please, why bother to run after the one that didn't want him. He didn't want her either. But then that day he saw her.

And not just once, from then he'd seen her so many times, ah, his fingers itched almost painfully, his lips parted and his penis prepared itself for delivering a massive, raging boner.

She was walking back to the castle, blanket thrown over her back talking to that fucking Potter and Weasley. It slipped off her back quite naturally and she bent to retrieve it- giving the Disillusioned Malfoy sitting a few meters away, reading himself to trip them- a breathtakingly painful view of her cleavage. Moist, the valley between her breasts had the sensual sheen of someone who'd just had sex. And they just about hinted on the flawlessness of her breasts by giving him an eyeful of the curves that he saw the beginning of.

Her bushy hair, now damp, lay about her shoulders, messy and unkempt making the Malfoy crouching before her falter and stop his hand from reaching out and touching her. It didn't end there. She arched her back, invariably throwing her chest out, to pull her hair over the blanket as she threw it about her shoulders. And he saw them. He saw her aroused nipples.

Okay. Maybe not aroused. Sometimes, the rain, or being in water and then walking through the cold could do that, he supposed. But her wet uniform clung about her perfectly sculpted body and her nipples, were rigid, they stood up and he could see it poking through the fabric, standing, he could see the curve of her breasts, the dip of her waist and the outward curve of her hips. He could see the flatness of her stomach and he could see her legs below her skirt. Her calves, damp, perfect and sculpted, surely because of the number of times she'd run around behind Potter with those truck-load of books on her back.

Merlin, Potter and Weasley were blind!

That had been in fourth year. Then in the fifth, he saw her running back to Hogwarts in the rain. He had to see her. He ran down the corridor in hopes of seeing her and sat down by the stairs to watch. He didn't need to Disillusion himself. He was hidden in the shadows, that this gloomy, rainy, gray day had brought upon. She stood and threw her hair back, flipped it forward and threw it back again, unintentionally spraying Malfoy with some water. He shivered. Her skin, her hair, her body, her lips, and most importantly her nipples.

As per usual, if you could call it usual, she arched her back and he saw them again. He had to bite his lip to hold back his gasp, he had to grab hold of the railings to keep himself steady. Then she was gone.

And today…

Why, today he had seen her again. And now he could take no more. Draco Malfoy had had enough of unexplained erections for himself. Like, how did he manage one for Hannah Abott? Why did he even do it? Right, she was the first thing that had crossed his path after Granger. It wasn't superhuman to get a boner for Abott, it would have to be someone Godly. He was neither of the above two, though he may have enjoyed either or both titles.

He was thinking of someone else.

He licked his lips and smiled. He knew how to go about it. He'd grab her and kiss her and then he'd go ahead with a well-rounded second base, sending a teaser right at the nipple and then all he had to do was find a bathroom. That was a move Draco Malfoy had perfected.

But, it then occurred to him, that she'd hex him, because she hated him and would've mumbled a curse through the snog he was delivering. And she would've happily done it. Plus, she'd knee him in the groin. No, he thought, those set of balls were precious, not just because they were his and because his mama gave them to him. If he had them you should see the things women were willing to do for him.

Madam Rosmerta would give him a keg of Firewhiskey, free, no questions asked, and give him a bonus that was supposed to be how much he paid – a blow job.

He sat up thinking. Aimlessly, he followed Granger as she walked past him, soaked in the rain. She was headed to a bathroom herself. A sudden idea struck him. Little Miss Prissy Prude used only the prefect's bathroom. Perfect!

He waited outside till he heard the shower go on. He'd heard her filling the tub earlier and then a few minutes later turn the shower on. Ah, so the mudblood too, loved soaks in hot water.

He muttered the password and swung the door open carefully and was hit by an Impedimenta to the head. Stunned, he stood, caught, at the doorway. 'Really, Malfoy, you are going to have to do better, if you want to please daddy and become a Death Eater.' She said wand still trained on him.

He looked up at her, 'First of all, I don't want to please daddy, Second of all, I am not becoming a Death Eater and Third, I am wandless.' He said weakly, trying to fight the curse off. It wore off after a few seconds. 'Stand up and no sudden moves.' She said making no indication that she had heard what he said earlier. He did so.

'Why were you following me?' she asked shakily. And suddenly he realized, she was scared, he had to take advantage of that. He stepped forward, her wand wavered. Clear indication that she was terrified. He layered his voice, letting it become deeper and he reminded himself of all the times he'd seen glimpses of her and his eyes were almost mercurial with desire.

He shrugged, 'Isn't it obvious Granger.' He said taking one more step, shutting the door behind him. 'Don't move.' She hissed, taking a tentative step backward. 'I won't hurt you.' He said, 'I am unarmed.' She backed one more step and he took one further. 'What are you doing?' she asked a little more louder than she expected, betraying her fear. Gryffindor bravery my arse, Malfoy thought. And wrong question. If he had been about to rape her, by now she'd be dead.

'Wrong question and the truthful answer to that is, I am standing in the prefect's bathroom, talking to you.' He said smoothly, walking forward, having regained his composure and footing. She kept backtracking. Two more steps and she's be trapped between the wall and him. Stupid girl. Some "smartest witch of the age" she was. He took two steps forward and she took two steps backward.

She gave a frightened squeak as she felt the wall on her back. He closed the distance between them and lowered her wand that was digging into his chest. He shook his head, 'You don't want to do that.' He said quietly, his forehead resting on hers. She closed her eyes and took a deep shuddering breath. Her shoulders were hitched upwards, tense, as though in a frozen shrug. He placed his hands on them making sure to run the loose sweater she was clad in, down her slim shoulders.

He was rewarded with a view of her white uniform shirt; transparent now that it was wet, sticking to her skin, betraying her chaste white bra straps. She was taking deep breaths with her eyes closed, exhaling through her mouth, her sweet breath, hitting her cheeks. He bent his face closer, their noses were touching, he nuzzled hers, 'I've wanted this so long.' He breathed longingly.

She sighed against him and he took her lips in his. He kissed her, massaging her tongue with his, tasting her mouth, savoring her flavor, inhaling her scent, letting his hands wander about her waist, gently lifting the sweater. She kissed back to his delight, eyes closed in pleasure, he presumed. They broke apart for a second to gulp in massive amounts of oxygen that had burned out during the kiss and to pull her sweater over her head.

He paused to look at her in the white shirt that was just the right size for her. It was soaked, and it clung to her body like a second skin. He saw right through it to her breasts, nipples standing, clad in a unsullied white bra, its contours visible through the fabric. He'd have time to stare later.

He pulled her in for a second kiss. She complied. He untucked her shirt and his fingers grazed her damp waist she gasped against his lips. 'Relax.' He said quietly and it practically came out into her mouth. He broke their kiss again, with a Tupperware lid off the box squelch and using her wand, he placed a Silencing charm on the room.

'Won't be needing this wand.' He grinned putting it aside and fisting his hands in her hair. 'We've got other company tonight.' He said against her lips.

He delivered a series of hot, wet kisses on her slender jaw line and then, as he reached the sensitive part where her throat met her shoulders in a sensuous curve he sucked on the soft, creamy delicious skin. He heard a moan die in her throat as she kept herself from making any noise and grinned. He drew his lips back, grazing the skin with his teeth and then slowly opened his mouth and bit into it, feeling his teeth sink into the warmth and the cozy dampness her cream-like skin offered. She gasped this time.

He grinned still more.

He let his hands wander up to the collar of her white shirt. With deliberation, he forced, their presence lingering a second longer, letting her know exactly what he was intending to do. He felt her fingers against his chest, pushing slightly in weak protest. He pressed his lips onto hers, whispering words of comfort all the while, 'Its nothing at all. Nothing is going to happen.'

She blushed furiously, a delicate shade of red marring her porcelain-like skin. His fingers that had been playing at her collar had just undone the first button, making sure his fingers grazed the skin underneath. His nose nuzzled against hers, his forehead pressing against hers as he watched his roaming hands and her body under his ministrations. She was looking at the space between them.

She looked like she couldn't decide whether what she was doing or letting him do was right or wrong, a clear indication to him, that even the great, chaste, virginal Hermione Granger was not immune to the magic in his fingers. 'No,' she barely whispered as the second button came lose. He hushed her.

She reached for his sweater, much to his surprise. 'Go on.' She nodded, uttering those two words while looking him in the eye. He pulled it off impatiently, in a hurry to get back to her body. She, however, had other things in mind. Hermione, clearly didn't like not having the upper hand. She pulled him by the collar, catching him off-guard, kissing him, like there was no tomorrow and certainly not like a virginal, chaste good girl. He gasped.

He couldn't help it. No girl, not even Madam Rosmerta or Lavender Brown's mother had ever, ever even dreamt of taking the upper hand with him. It was a given. When with Malfoy, he's on top, and you're down there. If you're lucky he'll let you onto his bed at least for the duration of your experience.

And surprisingly, it turned him on.

It turned him on, when he felt Granger tugging him closer, rubbing her inner thigh against his leg, her fingers playing at the waistline of his pants, stroking the smattering of gold-white hair at the very base of his stomach. Good Lord! Bloody fucking hell!

And then quite suddenly, his shirt had ripped. He hadn't noticed her hands wandering upward, he had been too preoccupied with that tongue in his mouth that was doing things that were not even possible and that leg, God's yes, that leg that rubbed firmly against his….against him.

He looked down to see, the buttons to his very expensive shirt, plopping down to the floor, the shirt in her fists, mangled so horribly…but he didn't have the time to react in a fashion that was respectable. He didn't have the time to howl in anger and horror. She impaled him with his own sword.

She dropped her head and before he could think or act or comprehend- Merlin, what was happening?- her mouth closed around his nipple. He bit back a gasp that he didn't entirely swallow. So that was how it felt. Well, Granger, was one to show him. He didn't miss the irony.

He pulled her to the shower cubicle, she came along. For about two more seconds, they toyed with the clothes removing dramatics before stepping into the shower that was on full-blast as it had been for the past fifteen minutes while the bathroom inmates had been ahem busy.

And then Draco Malfoy got down to business.

He let his fingers graze her nipples. They stiffened almost immediately. He looked at her smooth breasts, perfect, pert globes and he heard a shuddered intake of breath. He pulled her closer, feeling her body tremble with anticipation. Much as she liked to be the best, she was afraid. Oh pretty, pretty little Granger.

The poor headstrong, beautiful thing.

She gasped as he lowered his head and took her left nipple in his mouth. Almost immediately he heard a gasp and felt her fingers delve and claw her way into his hair. Her entire chest was flushed, she was so hot, Merlin, even with the distance between them –which was not very much, but still- he could feel the heat between her legs. She was ready to go.

But he wasn't done. Her body bucked slightly as his fingers made their way to her right nipple, caressing, teasing and pinching gently, eliciting moans that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up in pure ecstatic thrill. And then he turned, delivering the same attention his mouth gave to other nipple. She shamelessly wrapped her arms about his head, hugging him closer. More.

He obliged, practically mashing his face into the softness and the warmth of her breasts. He enjoyed this so much, Merlin! The shower, pounding over their heads, water splashing everywhere, the heat of the water almost too hot and yet just perfectly right. She could barely contain herself now.

Then, along with the water sliding between their bodies, mixed with sweat and a little bit of her arousal that made her thighs slip against each other, her hand slid lower. He braced himself and actually closed his eyes and bit his lip to prevent the inevitable the hiss of satisfaction cross his lips. She smiled and her fingers wrapped themselves around him, he thought he'd die happily right there.

A few minutes later, he leaned back, practically gasping, he reached backwards with his hands to the walls for support. He could still feel her fingers, one at the tip of his penis, the other almost digging painfully into his sensitive organ, sending every nerve ending on it screaming pleasure.

He could still feel her hand slip to the two little sacks, his balls, fondling them. He could feel the heat rising. He could feel the real world slipping, he could feel that moment, that precise moment…was not far. His head arched backwards as he finally climaxed and let out a guttural moan despite himself.

A few minutes later, he was panting in the embarrassed silence. The minx! How did she even know how to do all that! And for the first time, Draco truly appreciated the art of pleasuring someone…he had never himself been pleasured before, it was all a matter of satisfying his ego- he could do that to someone.

The irony wasn't lost on Draco.

He never indulged in pleasuring himself, that is masturbating, though he did occasionally indulge in watching a few girls do it…fuelling the substance for his wet dreams, though he always saw someone else in those.

And today he was actually going to see her do it.

He licked his lips in apprehension.

But before that…

He pulled her fingers closer to him, drawing her up, making her stand. He turned the shower off and turned the faucet on. She stared at him a little puzzled. He opened his mouth, fearing what he was going to say next. 'I am not going to have sex with you. At least, not sex, sex...I mean, you know,' he gestured to below his midriff and then to her. She understood.

To his relief she let out a sigh of relief. He frowned slightly, wasn't he supposed to slightly insulted by that? He then directed her to lie down on the floor of the shower. She did, even though she looked like she didn't think it was a good idea. She had no idea. None at all.

He directed her to spread her legs wide open, resting against the walls. She gasped as a thin finger of water hit her clit. He smiled as he began to work on pleasuring her absolutely. He suckled her breasts, teased the nipples, grazing them with his teeth, swirling around it with his tongue. She gasped in pleasure ever so often punctuating it with moans.

He enjoyed seeing her climax like this. He enjoyed seeing the thin sheen of sweat covered her white limbs, her arms tensed, the sinews standing slightly, every muscle in her body enjoying the absolution of the moment…

'Granger,' he muttered as he flopped back to his corner of the bed that they had somehow ended up in –he honestly had no idea how. 'Thank you.' He let out between his pants, she was panting just as hard as him beside her. He expected her to be pleased. Draco Malfoy never thanked anyone. So, it came as an utter shock when the person beside him in quiet resolution said-

'-The name's Vivian.'

Shit. Fuck. Shit. Fuck.

'Are you 50 full of shit or is that all you are, 100 full of shit?' she asked.

He stared at the ceiling not really knowing the answer. 'I hope just 50 but it could be more.' He glanced at her, looking sincerely sorry. It was really insulting. He knew for a fact that it was a breach of moral code. If there could be one under such circumstances, but still…

Ah, well there was always another girl, he thought as she collected her things and left. Another girl, who he could pretend was Granger.

Right?

Ah, Merlin among all the things in the human anatomy how he liked them.

How he loved them…ah…

Nipples.

Fin.

A/N: by the way try the faucet thing you guys! I mean, gals. It really is good. Aaaaand most importantly you don't need a guy for it…hehe…though a guy would ahem enhance the experience…however, if you prefer trying without a guy, I suggest imagining Orlando Bloom, or Brad Pitt over you. Of course, Tom Felton or Draco are just as good. Hmm…my friends suggested these, kay? Maybe you should try all of 'em…wow! That would be SOMETHING.

Okay, okay. The last bit is a little borrowed from the wedding crashers. Thank you!