A/N: Chapter Twelve! There's a song mentioned in the chapter, and I highly recommend you listen to it whilst reading. Really sets the mood.

BIG THANKS to vakarian honour! This chapter is dedicated to you, homie.

"I'm yours," he murmured. "However you want me, whenever you want me."

I moaned in response, as he dragged his kiss from my lips to the upper curve of my breasts. By then, the robe was unfastened and cascading down my body, revealing me in nothing but a black balconette bra and matching panties. It appeared he liked my choice in lingerie, because the manner in which those smoky eyes drank me in was unmistakable. It was more than attraction. It was devotion. It was reverence, as though I were the last drop of water in the Sahara Desert.

…from there, the moment transitioned into a dream sequence with "Lay It Down" by The Rubens humming in the background.

I unbuttoned his shirt from the top down and watched in reverie, as he shrugged it from his shoulders and revealed to me a torso that was lean and muscular, with light scarring here and there from his darker days. Part of me wondered about those days and the things he had done — crimes he had committed — but those thoughts escaped me in one fell swoop, as he swept me in his arms and carried me from the foyer to the bedroom.

Our bodies plunged into the plush white linens, where he suspended himself above me and brushed his lips against mine, coaxing them apart.

It was one thing having him on top of me, but to have him kissing me and touching me, grazing his hands along my curves and caressing me in all the right places, was something else entirely. I exhaled, caught somewhere between a raspy moan and a whimper. It seemed he liked those sounds, because his muscles hardened for me, pressing against me, between my legs — showing how much he wanted me, and in how many ways.

I couldn't take it anymore. I dragged my fingernails down his back, marking him in our moment of uninhibited exploration.

In response to this, he pulled me up and onto his lap, where he reached behind me and unclasped my bra. I rolled by head back, breathing hard and heavy, as his lips moved from my clavicle to my breasts, where he massaged them in circular motion with both hands and ran his tongue over my nipples.

"Yes…" I moaned, running my fingers through his hair as he flicked and sucked and kissed. "Keep…Keep going…Oh my gosh…"

Instead of rushing through foreplay like most men, he took his time with me. It was almost too long — the way he sucked my tits raw and then slipped a couple fingers beneath my panties. I wanted him bad. I wanted to ride him until morning and then have him again, in the shower, thrusting into me from behind.

Just the thought of it made me tingle.

But he didn't move faster. He moved nice and easy, bringing me to the brink of orgasm with only one hand, edging me closer and closer until retracting, teasing me to the point that my cheeks were hot with exasperation.

It was around that time, that he reminded me he was Slytherin, with that signature sideways smirk.

"You're beautiful when you're angry," he told me, amused.

I folded my arms, frustrated but blushing from the compliment. It was clear that he felt some sort of attraction towards me, but to hear him call me beautiful was rather startling.

Sensing this, he leaned closer and kissed me again, brushing our lips together soon after; smooth and affectionate. "…however…whenever…" he echoed.

I breathed out, releasing the tension in my muscles, immersed in the chills that traveled up and down my spine. It was immediately afterwards, that he lowered me onto the pillows, still kissing me, and grazed one hand up my thigh. I could feel him between my legs. I could feel his want, his need, his everything.

"Right here…" I murmured. "Right now…"

It didn't take much more than that.

In a slow, rhythmic motion, he hooked his fingers into my lace panties and dragged them down my thighs.

Soon, there was nothing covering me, apart from him. I felt his heat, his desire, and reached between our bodies to unbuckle his trousers.

"Granger…" he struggled to say, eyes flickering shut as I pushed those trousers out of the way and curved my hand around him.

I felt him harden in my palm, more so than before.

It was nice being in control, watching his muscles tense up and relax, depending on whether or not I felt generous.

I used one hand to stroke him, slow and steady, gaining pace as time went on, and bringing him to the brink as he had done for me. It was predictable, but necessary. I smiled to myself, and then released him without meaning to, as he grazed our lips together in a smoky, sultry kiss.

It was then, right then, that the atmosphere between us changed.

It wasn't about sex.

It was about us; about the dress shop, the dance, the first visit, and the confession that brought him to my doorstep for the second time.

Just like that…I melted into him, into his fire, into his motions, into the night that I hoped would never end; with one name on my lips, one name to eclipse the others, and one name that I was cursed to remember.

Draco…Draco…Draco…

A/N: Snaaaaaaap. Predictions? No? FINE. (sorry, I have a weird sense of humour lol). Thanks for reading!

Cheers

xo