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Draco had already bared his torso to Hermione, his shirt barely kept in place with the few buttons at the bottom. And Hermione could barely breath. His perfect collarbones stood dauntingly in contrast to the soft, supple skin of his upper pectorals. What a shame, he's an arse. She thought internally. Had he been a bit decent, I'd have loved to run my lips over those collarbones.
And this thought brought her back to her surroundings because arse or not, she had to run her tongue and teeth over his neck and do more than just licking. But the slight little problem was she had next to no idea what the 'other things' would entail in reality, because eroticas are just a mirage of the real picture. At least, that's what she had thought before the night. But next morning would come with no gaurantee and perhaps an idea about the 'other things'.
"We don't have the whole day, you know. Stop objectifying me and get going, Granger." Draco said.
With that, he sat on a loveseat that had innocuously appeared in the room. Not his doing.
Hermione made her way to where he was lounging like he owned it all. Arrogant, little shite. Anything to keep my mind away from thinking about that sculpted torso...
With one final breath, she stood before him with all the courage he could muster. She could feel her heartbeat increasing. And her hands were definitely NOT becoming clammy.
"Go on, Granger." Draco appeared to be bored except for the amusing glint in his eyes. Seeing the uptight Gryffindor squirm was quite delightful, frankly.
"Um...well., I don't - I can't, I mean, where to-" Hermione was a bundle of nerves by now. It was like a nightmare to fail at such an innane task. She couldn't articulate her failure well enough before her arch nemesis.
Not that she had to.
"So, miss know-it-all doesn't know how to suck, and nibble, and bite. Sad." He purred the words salaciously enough to heighten the room's temperature a few good degrees, Hermione believed.
"That's not- but how, I know, but never have -" So much for articulation, she chided herself.
As amusing as it was, Draco was losing his interest and soon. He sighed.
"Sit down." He said, patting the space beside him.
Hermione did so without hesitation. She was already making an idiot out of herself, as it was. Listening to him couldn't have been worse, could it?
"Come closer." He said.
She did. But not close enough.
Sighing, Draco pulled her through the space, having her half perched on his lap.
She yelped.
"Put your hands around my neck." She did. This was all new for Hermione to be so intimate with a boy, let alone a Draco Malfoy on top of that. But she vowed to get this night over with as soon as possible.
And so for the next fifteen minutes, she did exactly what he told her.
With a bit of hesitation, she started unbuttoning the remaining few buttons, trying her best not to flick her hands over those defined abs of his or to even wander her fingertips beyond his navel. She them removed his shirt altogether.
And fuck, she couldn't breathe. This was the first time in her adult life that she was so close to a male's naked chest, feeling those pectorals ripple under her fingers. And that milky expanse of his neck... It wouldn't stay so clear long enough.
And that thought caused her to hyperventilate. The anticipation of what was to come through the night was borderline torture. Draco must have caught up her increasing discomfort for two arms suddenly wrapped around her waist, steading her on his lap or she would have surely fallen down.
At least, that's what she believed.
In reality, Draco was not bored right now, far from it. The innocent ministrations were pure torture. Her reluctance to feel his lower abdomen albeit the ever-present curious glances she was sending that way, the way her hands fleeked over her pectorals, all caused his breath to hitch and his muscles to flex. It was her sweetness, unlike every girl he's been with, that made him want more of it. Just a bit. But more. He wanted to touch her, like she was touching him, or maybe more passionately. It wasn't everyday he'd get a chance to hold the Gryffindor Princess. And so, on a whim, he held her in his arms. Her curves feeling delicious beneath his hands. It was the thrill of the forbidden.
At least, that's what he believed.
"Kiss my neck." He breathed.
And Hermione set to work. Anything to take her mind away from anxiety. She moved closer and paused for a few seconds, breathing in his sent - a hint of spicy, minty, sharp, with bouts of hot chocolate. A small, almost non-existential moan escaped her lips and she burrowed her nose into the crevice of his neck. Like an out-of-body experience, she could clearly see herself lapping at the spot on his neck. Spreading butterfly kisses across his torso. Over those heavenly pectoral muscles. But not a bit further. That's not what the deed was about. But Lord save her, she was tempted to. With great discipline, she stuck to her former thought and started lapping at his throat.
"Nibble. Suck. Pinch. Use teeth. Lap. Just, ahh-" By now, Draco as breathless. Its been a while since someone had shown so much attention to such a trivial task. Generally, the witch would simply bite hard during the throes of passion and that'd be that. It was the first time, to be honest, when someone was kissing his torso almost reverently. The moment that blasted moan had escaped her lips, Draco found paradise. To hear the prude queen moan did wonders to his male ego. And then, she burrowed her nose into his neck. Her hot breath on his neck, the small kisses as if she was scared to hurt him, the moistness her tongue left behind on its trail, everything felt like sweet death.
And then, she started nibbling. Sucking, but not hard enough.
"Go harder, Granger..." He hissed with all his strength.
Now focused to complete the task, Hermione started sucking harder on his pulse point. And then, she bit down on his neck. He hissed. Scared that she had hurt him, she tried to move away but a hand at the back of his neck halted her. Taking it as a cue to continue, she went back to sucking and biting different parts across his torso. And then placed the sweetest of kisses over the marks that were appearing. Happy with the outcome, she moved to have a final look over her mastepiece and unable to hold back, placed one final kiss over both his pectorals.
"Who knew you had a thing for pectorals, Granger?" Draco said, finally able to breathe after his Petit mort.
Looking at Hermione, he saw her own breathlesness and one look at his torso showed the reason. His chest was adorned with marks and bites. Not sharp, not hurtful, but pleasurable. Marks to remind him of a time when he lost control. And Malfoys rarely lost control. Coming down from his high, he gestured to his lap. He couldn't ignore the feel of a pert arse over his lap wanted to get out of the situation, before it went out of hand.
As if on cue, Hermione stood up, red faced, and made her way to her earlier seat.
Both the teens didn't know what to say to each other. What would you say tk your enemy after they've just marked your Torso? What would you say to the enemy whose torso you've just marked?
Breaking the silence, Hermione asked, "Now what? Do you get a deed too?"
And indeed, a parchment appeared in front of Draco. Hermione had expected Draco to flip out, be offended, or maybe smirk, mock her, or something along those lines. What she didn't expect, however, was for him to go blank, then perplexed.
He set the parchment down for Hermione to read and that's when she saw the flipping, the mortification, the gaping, only it was from her side.
If possible, this deed was worse than the last. Because across the parchment were written the words -
'Drink a body shot from between your partner's breasts.'