Chapter Fifteen

Hermione could come up with a list of twenty different reasons why she shouldn't follow Malfoy to his apartment, but with each step she took, the reasons became more and more irrelevant. They went from her subconscious screaming at her to turn around, to undecipherable whispers.

She followed him into the swanky elevator bank, his warm palm sending delicious sensation crawling up her spine. He lightly trailed his fingers back and forth along her spine. Her back arched slightly at the feel of his fingertips against her bare skin. The elevators silently slid open, and much to Hermione's confusion, there were no buttons. Malfoy didn't look fazed. He tapped a screen to the right of the doors. Hermione jumped as the screen turned on, and flashed red. Malfoy stepped up to the screen, and Hermione watched with a strange sense of fascination as a retinal scan examined Malfoy. The red light turned green, and the elevator began its ascent.

Electric charge filled the air. Hermione licked her suddenly dry lips, glancing at Malfoy out of the corner of her eye. His lips were pressed into a hard line and he was glaring at the elevator doors. An awareness she had been trying to suppress flared to the surface, demanding attention. Her nerve endings were prickling, demanding contact with the blond to her left.

"Fuck it." He growled. Within seconds, he had her pinned against the wall, his mouth hot and frenzied against her own. He slammed her back against the wall, wrapping her legs around his waist. Her long legs were exposed as her dress was pushed up near her waist. Malfoy took advantage of this, using his long, lean fingers to massage dizzying patterns against her skin. Hermione's hands entangled themselves in his hair as she struggled to bring him even closer to her. He plunged his tongue into her mouth, exploring every inch of her. Hermione moaned into his mouth. This is what she'd been craving nearly all night. He swallowed her sounds, rhythmically grinding against her. Hermione felt the almost uncontrollable urge to demand him to take her right there, right now.

The elevator dinged, the doors gliding quietly open. Malfoy helped her right herself before dragging her into the hallway. Hermione was smoothing her dress before she looked around. Her eyes widened as she struggled to gain familiarity with his wealth. Cream and beige marble floors met grey, silk panelled walls. Two statues were situated at either ends of the hall. Large paintings covered the walls, each probably costing more than all of Hermione's possessions. Two twin doors were opposite the elevator, and besides the stair doors, were the only ones she could see. Two marble columns flanked either sides of the door, a hand-blown glass chandelier hanging down from a raised point in the ceiling.

"I have the penthouse, so this floor's mine." Malfoy said casually before leading her to the doors. Hermione gaped at him. He sounded so indifferent, but she supposed that he had lived his entire life in luxury, and probably didn't know any better. While Hermione had certainly never had to worry financially all her life, this was a whole new level of affluence that only nobility and purebloods seemed to be able to break.

Malfoy produced a single silver key, turning the lock with ease. She opened both doors simultaneously, completing the dramatic entrance.

Weng furniture, bronze and steel statues, ebony, and plenty more marble greeted her senses. Exotic light fixtures and contemporary, yet classic furniture was placed elegantly all around. For added privacy, slanted vertical slats on the windows prevent outsiders from peering into the apartments. The hall in of itself looked suited for a five-star hotel. The walls were a light satin, to Hermione they were a strange mix or grey, cream, and gold. Each light fixture was different depending on which room you were in. In the entry hall they were cream and rectangular, letting light show from the top and bottom. Each light was fixed onto three long pieces of shining metal, all varying in length. They reminded her of the 1920's.

Malfoy led her down a hallway to her right. On the right was a darkened hallway, whereas on the left, she could glimpse the kitchen. He led her straight into one of the largest rooms she'd ever been in. Three of the four walls were covered in floor to ceiling windows offering one of the most coveted views of Hyde Park.

"Do you like it?" Malfoy asked, sparing her a glance. Hermione was looking around in awe, and had to focus to do a simple a gesture as nodding. Malfoy's lips pulled into that infuriating smirk that sparked something deep in her belly. She didn't know if she hated his trademark, or found it undeniably sexy.

He strode across the room, sitting in the left-most of the two seating areas. Malfoy eyed her as she strode across the room to sit beside him. The look was giving her made her nervous. It reminded her of how a predator looked seconds before killing its prey.

"What do you think?" He asked. The way he gestured to the room, Hermione had suspicions he wasn't just referencing his home, but his wealth in general. She cleared her throat, making sure she could talk.

"It's big." Was her eloquent response.

"Big?" He quirked an eyebrow, bemused.

"Big."

Hermione was a nervous wreck. He heart was racing, her blood pumping faster and faster. She could hear it rush in her ears. Her breathing was short and shallow, and that was when she reminded herself to breathe. She was nearly quivering with arousal.

She had no doubts he knew of this.

"I want to show you something." He looked at her, an excited gleam in his eye, but she could tell he was nervous. "You don't yet know what you are really in for when it comes to the contract. You can still leave if you'd like, but I think seeing what I have to show you will give you a better idea of what I'm referring to."

Shit, he was talking about the contract. Hermione swallowed nervously, nodding her head. She followed him down the grand hallway, and led her to the other side of the flat. He stopped before the last door on the right, pulling out his wand.

"Alohamora." He muttered. He took a deep breath, his stance tense.

"You can leave anytime. The fireplace is connected to the floo. You can spend the night also, it's fine whatever you decide." Malfoy hesitantly placed a hand on the doorknob, while the other was fisted at his side. Hermione had never seen him so tense.

"Just open the damn door, Malfoy." She snapped. Her nerves causing a riot of sensations. She felt her head swim.

He turned the platinum knob, leading her inside the room. He closed the door behind them and turned on the lights. The only comprehensible thought Hermione had was a single harsh epithet.

Holy Fuck.

Dark European oak walls created an intimate feel. One of the first things she noticed was the smell: leather, wood, spices, and something warm and rich. The lighting was soft, and created a subtle glow that made the room seem deceptively cozy. The floor is a dark wood with scratches and paint stains. A large, green satin bed took up most of the room. It looked too big to be King sized, and had four, intricately carved posts. A sheer black and green canopy fell from the posts. On each of the posts, Hermione could see gleaming chains and cuffs. Unlike in the other areas of his house, where every piece of furniture had something on it, this room was nearly bare. It was enclosed though, creating an intimate space. A large modern fireplace was placed opposite the bed. Two chairs and a small table were placed before it. But it wasn't the furniture that both aroused and horrified her. No. It was the adornments.

A large wooden cross like an X was fastened to the wall. Leather restraint cuffs hung precariously from each corner, attached by thick metal chains to the shining mahogany. Above it is an expansive iron grid suspended from the ceiling, and from it hung various kinds of ropes, chains, and shackles. An assortment of paddles, whips, riding crops, and other implements hung from two large wooden poles. A shining metal pole was in one corner of the room, and to Hermione, seemed to be the least intimidating part.

There was an ostentatious wooden chest as well as an armoire that were locked. The pieces look custom made; all of the drawers were too small to hold clothing or large objects of any kind. Hermione briefly wondered what was inside, before she shook the thought out of her head. She'd rather not know. Against one of the walls was an emerald green, leather bench, and above it hung a rack that held canes of varying lengths and widths. At the end of a bed was a large, emerald leather couch that faced the bed. Hermione found it to be odd how the couch was facing the bed.

Taking in the woods, dark walls, ambient lighting, and exorbitant amounts of leather, there was a strange kind of softness and romanticism. An underlying intimacy beneath the intimidating exterior. Hermione looked at Draco, who was regarding her intently. His face was blank, void of all expression, and his eyes were hard. She hesitantly stepped further into the room, smirking at the Slytherin colours that adorned it. He walked behind her, scrutinizing her every movement. She blushed before picking up something feathery, touching the suede surface gently. There were very small, silver plastic beads on the end.

"What is it?" She asked hesitantly, her voice soft. She didn't know if she was in shock or not, but the lack of response was starting to scare her. She almost didn't want him to answer her.

"It's called a flogger." He replied simply. His voice was cool and calm, as though he was discussing the weather and not some kind of implement used during sex.

She gazed around the rest of the room, a numbness overcoming her senses. She didn't know any possible way to articulate how she felt about this room. It was terrifying, that much was obvious, but the clenching of her abdomen, and the racing of her blood fabricated a different kind of response altogether. She knew he was into control and dominance, but to actually see it in his lifestyle, in his fucking house, was a different level that she didn't know how to respond to. Fear suddenly gripped hard onto her. She had so many questions. What was he going to do to her? How was he going to do it? When did he do this? When did it all begin for him? Who made him this way? Why was he like this in the first place? Why did he want her to be a part of it? How often would he want to do this? A headache began to push its way to her temples. She turned around to look at him, her expression blank.

"Say something." Malfoy commands, his voice just as calm and collected as before, yet there is a softness as well. He wanted her to speak? She didn't think she could. Ever. Words couldn't describe how she felt at the moment.

"So you do this to people?" She asked after several attempts to silently find her voice. She licked her dry lips and wished for that bottle of wine. His mouth quirked up into the faintest of smirks. She couldn't tell if he was amused or relieved, his eyes gave nothing away.

"I do this to women who want me to." He said after a few moments.

"And you want to do this with me?" She asked, her voice almost cracking. She was finding this harder and harder to believe. She already had doubts as to why he wanted her in the first place, then again, she wondered why she wanted him right back, but this was different. Very different. By showing her this and showing her the contract, he had allowed her into his personal world where pain and pleasure coincided as one.

"Very much." He replied, his voice low. His eyes were intense, a deep storm grey.

"You're a Dominant, right?" Hermione asked, remembering the terminology used in the contract. He looked the slightest bit impressed with her for remembering.

"Yes." His eyes were a scorching grey as he looked at her. She didn't quite understand the relationship still. She didn't understand why he felt the need to control. He sensed this.

"Being a Dominant, I want you to willingly surrender yourself to me. Intimacy is based on shared vulnerability. Nothing deepens intimacy like the experiences that we share when we feel vulnerable. And our partner is there with us, willing to share in the scary stuff." He looked at her hard, willing for her to understand. He growled as he gazed at her with hooded eyes sending spasms straight down to her pulsing, wet lips, "It's all about pleasure. Pure unadulterated pleasure. Both yours and mine. I'll show you just what you are truly capable of with that luscious little body of yours, Granger."

He viciously closed the gap between them, slamming his lips down on hers. He forced her lips apart with his tongue, taking no prisoners. Her blood began to heat, her body awakening under his touch. She returned his kiss with her own passion, partly to forget where she was, and partly to drown her senses in the male that was Malfoy.

"Turn around," he muttered against her lips, "I want to get you out of this dress." Obediently, she turned her heart thumping as desire flooded her system. He trailed his fingers from the nape of her spine down to the zipper of her dress on her lower back. His touch felt like electricity against her skin as he slowly teased her warm flesh.

"Your body is mine to play with," He began as he pulled down the zipper of her dress, his breath hot against the shell of her ear,"and I will fuck you and use you, end you're going to be begging for it."

Her heart began to pound harder within her chest as his words sunk in. Trepidation mixed with desire creating a toxic blend that flowed through her system. His words, though crude, managed to turn her on wildly.

She felt electricity shoot through her system, making her want to dance to some erotic rhythm with him by her side. She felt every nerve ending tingle, filling her with a desire only he seemed capable of creating. She'd never felt this way in her life. Tonight, it was different. Everything was different. Every whisper spoken over feverish skin, every breath, every sound, every sensation. It was all different. Tonight, everything could end or begin with her introduction into his dark and dangerous world.

He teased her flesh, dragging her body impossibly closer to his own. He unclasped her halter, and the dress fell to the floor like a waterfall of silk. Her dress hadn't allowed her to wear a bra, and his hands were immediately on her breasts, tenderly moulding and kneading her chest. He rolled her nipples between the pad of his thumb and her index finger until they were taut peaks. He swallowed any sounds she made, fucking her mouth with his tongue. Her skin began to heat up beneath his expert touch, and Hermione could feel herself surrender to him. Unexpectedly, he pulled away and pushed her towards the opulent emerald bed. He muttered something that Hermione couldn't hear, and her hands and feet were instantly bound in the cuffs that were attached to the four posts. She tried to move her wrists against the leather bindings, but it was to no avail.

"I want to try something. You may not like it at first, but give yourself time to adapt to it. I know it can be very arousing." He grabbed his wand before whispering a spell. Immediately, Hermione's vision began to gradually fade to an ominous black. It was as though there was an opaque black veil pulled over her eyes. She could hear Malfoy's shallow breathing, and she could feel his palm burning into her hip. Understanding flashed through her immediately.

He'd taken away her sight.