More Kink. More lemons. You've been warned. THANK YOU WAYMAY FOR EDITING THIS! 3
~A.

By the way, WayMay and I have a fic! Called Empire, found under WayMay penname. Please, go check it out and review! She worked really hard on it, and I think you all will be impressed.

"Take Me To Church" by Hozier


"You came back."

His voice sounded surprised, but his eyes told a different story. He sat sprawled back against a corner lounge chair in the very corner of Tier One, dressed in casual slacks and charcoal button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, showing off his Morsmordre Mark. On his face sat that tell-all domino mask as he smirked up at her from her feeble stance at the other end of a coffee table that separated them. An array of empty containers sat on top of it, and judging by the way Blaise and Pansy were going at it with their tongues next to him, everyone had gotten their fill of alcohol. Malfoy didn't look at all troubled as Pansy began to dry-rut against Blaise's lap, causing the lounge to shake ever so slightly.

Hermione patted down her blue pencil skirt, nervously trying to dry the clamminess of her hands. Why did she come back? What good could possible come from it? Curiosity, it seemed, was a drug that she became addicted to as a child. Perhaps that's why she couldn't leave well enough alone. She knew coming here meant she was attracted to him, and that's why she walked through those doors alone to herself that Malfoy intrigued her was one thing. Admitting it to Luna? A whole other ballpark.

"I did."

"Good girl." His complimentary words sent a shiver through her. He patted his lap, and her eyes widened. "Come. Sit."

"No, thank you." She shook her head; her body silently keened in response. Godric, she was being stubborn, but it was bold of him to ask it of her. Didn't he know what kind of a person she was? Maybe that's why he did it. Because he knew.

"I wasn't asking." His smirk dropped, and he spread his legs wider, getting comfortable. "Now. Before I grow bored."

Hermione marched tersely around the table and stood before him, hands on her hips. "I came. That should be enough for you." He waited, expressionless, until, eventually, she gave in and awkwardly turned around, taking a seat on his legs. She could literally feel the smirk on the back of her neck as his hand wrapped around her torso and tugged her back against him, fitting her like a jigsaw piece to his abdomen and pelvis.

"I love your outfit," he breathed against her ear at the same time he placed a hand on her knee. "Did you dress up just for me?"

Her heart fluttered as her cheeks flushed with heat. Damn it. This was the reason why she came, wasn't it? So she could hear sultry voice whisper into her eardrum. She couldn't get it out of her head since last weekend, and had taken to working overtime just to keep from going home where she would fantasize. Deep down, Hermione knew something was lit within her the moment his countdown ended that night. Admitting it had taken her nearly half the week and the other half was spent imagining all of the things that might turn up tonight. She wanted to know about the runes, the doors, and what it all meant. And she wanted Malfoy to be the one to tell her.

"Why?" she asked, turning her head to him. He looked confused. She rephrased, "Out of everyone here, why me?"

Ignoring the fact that she breezed past his question, Malfoy gave a shrug, kissing her shoulder. "Why not you?"

"Wow." She grabbed down to his hand on her leg and pushed it off, and then she crossed her arms. "Don't I just feel so special?" All week, she thought maybe she had been. Special, that was. Out of all the girls in Bond, he asked her to go to the second tier with him.

"Don't get pissy," he cooed in her ear, pushing her hair to the side so that he could brush his lips across her neck.

"Luna told me something."

His kissing came to a stop. "Did she now?" He didn't sound pleased.

Hermione closed her eyes, fisting the edging of her skirt and concentrating on her next words. "She said that she's never seen you on tier two before last week."


"Ever?" Hermione asked, sipping her cup of herbal tea next to Luna, her feet tucked under her to hide the fact that she was damper than a bayou in her knickers. When she closed her eyes, she could see his dangerous smirk and hear his sultry laugh.

"Not that I can recall," said Luna. She snugged deeper within her blanket, looking more like a food-truck burrito by the moment.

"Is that why you acted so odd when you saw him?"

"Hmm?" Luna smiled. "Oh, no. Not at all."

"Well then what was it?"

"I told you. If he wants to share, he will. Until then, my lips are shut."


"That so…"

"Yes."

He chuckled darkly, resuming his tender ministrations on her neck. "You never did answer my question."

"And you didn't answer mine."

"Why you?"

"Yes."

His arm draped around her stomach, tightened, pulling her as close as she could possibly get to him, while his other hand came up to her neck, wrapping his long fingers around it but not grabbing. He simply followed the length of it down to her collarbone and then moved it around to rest on her shoulder. There, he began to massage the tense muscles. Her eyes closed, and she felt her mouth part open in response. His fingers felt so wonderful as they rubbed small circles into her shoulder and aching joints. "Because I've always wondered…"

"Wondered?" she repeated his word back to him, eyes still shut tight.

He moved his hand to the edge of her shoulder and sunk his teeth into the crook of her neck. She gasped, hands going instinctively to wrap around his arm that held her to him, and she shivered. His teeth stayed there for a time before they released, and he licked at the tender skin. "-What my given name sounds like on your tongue." His tongue ran all the way up the length of her neck until he made it to her earlobe, where he nibbled playfully. "Or how you would scream it underneath me."

Was she hearing this right? Did Draco Malfoy, who sought out nothing but pureblood status, really just admit to coveting her?

She shifted restlessly in his lap, accidently pushing the back of her bum against his groin. She heard him inhale, arm constricting around her impulsively. "How long?" she asked.

"Like I said. Always."

His words held, with them, a weight that Hermione found herself slowly suffocating underneath. There grew a tension in her stomach, and she glanced up to the bar, wishing she could manage a shot of something to settle her nerves. But, just like last week, Luna's favorite bartender was in attendance, so Hermione dared not approach. She guessed she would have to do this the old fashioned way; with deep breathing and fidgeting.

"There's no way," she said, moving her face to the side to look at him -but she hadn't realized how close he was, and her nose brushed against his cheek. He smirked in response. "I mean to say, you couldn't have wanted me. You hated me. We hated each other."

"Hate is a powerful word," he taunted, turning her sideways on his lap and placing her arms around his neck. "I'd like to think of it as our attempts to keep the unresolved sexual tension at bay, what with the War and our parents being who they were. But the War is over."

She gulped. "I suppose it is." She found his eyes in hers, digging in and gripping tight like talons into her soul. Handsome, gray talons…

"And we're adults now."

"I suppose we are." Whoo, was it hot in here, or was that just between Hermione's legs?

"Two consenting adults." He pulled her left arm from around his neck and held up the back of it to show her that her red X did not glow. "So tell me, Granger. What sort of kink are you into?"

All of the color drained from her face. "Kink?"

"Yes. Everyone has some kinkiness to them. -For Pansy and Blaise, it's having an audience." He motioned to the side, where Blaise and Pansy could be seen grinding into each other as their mouths battled for dominance. She'd nearly forgotten they were there, being so enthralled by Malfoy. His voice brought her back around from staring at the hot-and-heavy couple. "So what's yours?"

"I…" Her face turned back to his, and she shook her head. "I don't know."

"Didn't you and Weasley ever try anything daring?"

"If by daring you mean putting in a quickie nearly every time we did it," she quipped. When she realized what she said, her eyes turned to saucers and she sputtered out, "I… I mean… I don't know why I told you that."

"Because you know you can trust me, pet." He bit his lower lip, trailing his eyes down to her own soft, coral colored mouth.

"No, I don't think that's it at all. I don't trust you. Never have."

"Just as well," he mused, drawing his face closer to hers, "But you should."

"Trust is a thing that's earned, Malfoy. Not given freely."

"Draco." He licked his lips. "Call me Draco."

"Alright… Trust is a thing that's earned, Draco."

He visually shuddered, closing his eyes. When they came back open, there was a fire lit behind them. "Kiss me."

He didn't give her time to think it over or respond; his hand went up to the back of her hair and tugged her down to him, seizing a kiss made the entire first tier melt away. His tongue snaked hungrily across her lips, ordering her to let him in. She did. He tasted of honey-wine and peach schnapps and the devil's intentions. Hermione felt herself melding into him as she tugged him closer, hands going into his hair as his hands traveled around to her backside and prompted her up on her knees. He shifted her until she straddled him, her skirt pooling up her upper thighs until her lacy white underwear was in his view. She gasped, meaning to sit upright and tug her skirt back down, but he pulled her forward, right against the firmness in his pants, a hand cupping each of her ass cheeks from under the skirting.

Eventually, they both had to come up for air and found that Pansy and Blaise had stopped eating each other's faces long enough to watch Hermione and Draco go at it. Hermione's eyes met Pansy's amused expression and Blaise's lustful gaze; they didn't look at all appalled by their friend's choice in partner for the evening. If anything, they seemed envious.

"Blimey," Blaise muttered, eyeing Hermione's disheveled skirt. Embarrassed, she went to pull off of Malfoy, but he looped his fingers through her panties, threatening to pull them off should she attempt it. Pansy swatted Blaise on the side of the cheek; not hard, but enough to get his attention. "Oi!"

"Draco made it perfectly clear the mudblood's off limits."

Ignoring the fact that she'd been referred to in the most insulting sense, she wondered: had he really told his friends she was to be left alone? She didn't know whether to thank him or tell him off. Either one sounded too good for him.

"Meant no disrespect," said Blaise to Malfoy, "Just admiring."

"By all means," Draco smirked challengingly, "But if you touch her, you might find a letter in your boss's post tomorrow all about that affair you've been having with his wife."

"So now you've resorted to threatening your friends?" Hermione cast him a serious glare.

"When it comes to what's mine, yes." His hands gripped harder.

"I'm not yours."

"Of course you are."

For the first time, the back of Hermione's hand lit up with that infamous scarlet X in reference to Malfoy. His hands immediately left her, slipping them back down to his sides. She climbed off of his lap, settling in on the spot between him and Blaise. "I don't belong to you, Malfoy. Don't forget that."

"Ooh!" Pansy sniggered into her hand. "She's a feisty one, ay, Draco?"

Malfoy looked thoroughly pissed off. His lips curled down in an unamused sneer, and his eyes narrowed challengingly at her. "My apologies," he said curtly, not a drop of humility in his tone. He crossed his arms like a child and stared off at the dance floor.

"Ignore him," said Pansy, legs still wrapped around Blaise's hips. "He's always pissy when he doesn't get his way."

"I am not," Malfoy snapped indignantly.

"How long have I known you? Us both?" She turned her head to Blaise. "He's a stick in the mud, isn't he, pookey?"

"A right git when things don't go as planned." He smiled to Hermione. "I wouldn't anger him too much, though. Malfoys have tempers something awful."

"Do not." Malfoy jutted his chin up in the air.

"Right. Well, we'll best be getting off." Pansy winked at her choice of words. "If you decide that you grow bored of your blonde play-thing, find yourself a suitable partner and join us upstairs?" Draco audibly snarled, eyes still set forward and chin set out. Hermione cast Pansy and Blaise a 'you're leaving me here with him like this?' look, and Pansy added, "His weak spot is right under his jaw, below the ears." She gave her another wink, hopped of Blaise's lap, and tugged him up to stand. "Ta-ta!" She waved goodbye to her irritated friend and then to Hermione before dragging Blaise along by the hand towards the staircase. Blaise looked back at Hermione with a forlorn expression like he really wanted to get a chance to get in her knickers instead. Eventually, he accepted his fate about halfway across the dance floor and turned to his partner, smacking her hard on the ass.

Hermione didn't know why, but she almost appreciated Pansy's attempt at advice.

"Are you going to sit there all night with that sneer on your face?" she asked Malfoy, turning to him. His nostrils flared as he inhaled. "I can't help it if you made me feel uncomfortable. You know that, right? Luna says the X reacts to your body's hormonal levels and chemistries."

"Hmph."

"Oh, for Heaven's sake." She crossed her arms as well, and draped one leg over the other, mirroring his hard expression. Offhandedly, she added, "You act like it's never happened to you before."

"What hasn't?" he muttered.

"Someone saying no to you."

"Maybe they haven't."

"Until now," she jeered, and his eyes jerked over to find hers.

"You really want to keep egging it on?"

"Egging what on?"

"Your punishment." He smirked.

"Punishment?"

"Yes."

"For what?"

"For pissing me off."

"You are, by far, the biggest man-child I've ever met." She pointed an accusing finger at him. "And I'm including my ex-husband in that."

"Don't ever cage me in a category with that turnip-faced flobberworm."

Hermione couldn't help it; she laughed. The insult caught her off guard, and she burst out into full-bellied laughs, throwing a hand out onto his lap to steady herself. Malfoy raised a cool eyebrow, still forcing himself to look agitated, though the corners of his mouth tugged up ever so slightly. "Haha… oh wow… that… thank you. For that." She swiped at a tear with her other hand, smiling up at him. "His face does resemble a turnip, doesn't it?"

Malfoy's face broke its glare and turned into an amused smile. "A bit, yes." The red X faded away, and his body relaxed. "Feeling laxer around me, I see."

"It was funny."

"I believe that's the first time you've shared that sentiment towards my humor."

"You've never been funny before."

He stuck out his tongue childishly. "You never answered my question."

"What question?"

"What sort of kink are you interested in?"

"I've told you. I don't know."

"Of course you do." He uncrossed his arms and tucked them behind his head.

"Well, what sort are you into?" she asked.

He licked his lips. "Dominance."

"So you like being in control? Never would have guessed," she quipped.

"Looked to me like you enjoy submission. Or did I read the wetness between your legs wrong?"

She blushed. "I… I've never done anything like that before. But I did enjoy it."

"Thought so." He nudged over to one of the rune marked tables. "That one, there, is for toys." He motioned to another. "You'll recognize that one as bondage." He pointed his toe towards a further out table with two runes facing each other. "That one's roleplay. -And that one's edgeplay."

"Edgeplay?"

"Like BDSM, but... darker. Choking. Knife play. That sort of thing." The way he spoke sounded so casual compared to the things spilling from his mouth, as if he was discussing Quidditch. "There's also a rune for pet play."

"Pet play?"

"How vanilla are you, Granger? Do I need to spell it out?" He rolled his eyes. "It's just the name sounds. Pets and owners."

"Oh." She blinked. "You call me pet."

"I mean it differently."

She didn't want to push her luck, so she ignored asking him what he meant instead and focused on a group of men gathered around a table with one woman in a lengthy, red gown. "That one. What's that?"

"Gangbang."

"Oh!" She put her hand up to her mouth, laughing out of nervousness. "Is that different than an orgy?"

"Much." He didn't explain further, simply stating, "But we won't be doing that, so it doesn't matter."

Not that she wanted to (she most definitely didn't), but she had to ask, "Why not?"

"Because, as I've said: you're mine. I don't share well with others. When we go up to that second tier tonight, I don't plan on anyone else getting their hands close to you."

"When? That confident?"

"Oh, yes." He nodded, blowing her a mock kiss. "For all of your prude nature, I know you can't resist one room."

"Which one is that?"

He smirked. "To put it simply, the romance room."

She quirked an eyebrow, intrigued. "Go on."

"Soft bed. Soft music. Just… soft." He reached out and tenderly drew a line down her arm with his fingertips, watching her as she closed her eyes. "I bet Weasley was terrible at making love to you."

Her eyes snapped open. "What would you know of making love, Malfoy?"

"Married. Remember?" He pointed to the mask. "And I told you, it's Draco."

She looked away from him, insulted. How dare he assume to know her own love life? How dare he be correct?

"I want to make you an offer."

"I'm listening."

"Five rooms. You pick five of the kinky rooms to try, and I'll give you the best goddamn sensual love-making you've ever encountered."

She mulled over his words, taking into account his promise to make love to her. How could he possibly do that? He didn't love her, and that was a requirement. Hence the name. But perhaps he could pretend? Could he put on such an act that she could forget he felt nothing for her but physical attraction? If he could, it might be worth it to experience.

"Define 'best goddamn sensual love-making experience'."

His smirk widened, and he untucked his hands from behind his head to rest them on her knees before scooting closer to her. Gently, he skirted them up her thighs, around her hips, and tugged her directly next to him, nose to nose. "Close your eyes."

She did.

"Imagine us alone, tucked away in that room up there. Imagine your clothes, and mine, discarded on the floor." He let his hand move up her stomach to the bottom of her left breast, cupping underneath it but not touching it. "I gently lay you back against the bed, my hand cradling your head as you fall into the downy pillow top. My lips find your neck," he leaned forward, licking against her throat, "Your shoulder," he nibbled there next, "your breasts," his hand slipped up and massaged the fleshy bundle beneath her shirt and bra, "as I fit myself between your legs. You're dripping wet for me, aren't you, pet?"

"Y-Yes…" She sighed, picturing his words in her mind.

"I go slow, planting kisses all down your body. You squirm beneath my touch, but you love it. No one's touched you this way in forever. You beg me never to stop."

"Never…" Hermione repeated in a whisper, loving the imagery.

"My head finds a place between your thighs, and I lap at your pussy like it's my last meal. Maybe it is. Maybe it's all I'll ever want to eat again."

She had no words for him, only hands that grasped at his wrists as he fed her thought after filthy thought.

"You taste so good, pet. Do you want to taste yourself?"

"Yesss…"

The hand around her hip snaked down her thigh and between her legs. His fingers trailed a line up her wet, covered folds, slickened with her arousal. She forgot herself in that moment, that she was sitting in the back of a club, surrounded by potential onlookers. All that mattered was his fingers as they tucked underneath her knickers and slipped inside of her, suddenly. She gasped, eyes flying open, but he whispered, "Shhh…" and kissed her softly as he pumped two of his fingers into her center, stretching her. She hadn't been fingered in years. Hermione groaned contently into his mouth as he curled his fingers and touched the sensitive bundle of nerves that had her hips grinding against his hand. Malfoy licked a thin line up her lips before removing his fingers and bringing them up between them to show her how wet she was. Looking pleased, he sucked his middle finger clean and then slid his index finger across her lips. "Have a taste." Hermione stared up into his eyes and trailed her tongue up the length of his finger before taking it into her mouth. She loved the flavor of her juices as they mixed with the flavor of his skin. Malfoy's breathing became heavy as he watched her suckle his fingertip. "Damn it." He withdrew his finger from his mouth and stood up, pulling her along with him. "The offer. Do you accept?"

She nodded. "Yes."

Relief flooded his features, and he took her hand in his. "Good. Let's go find a room, shall we?"


'The Sensory Room.'

At least, that's what Draco said the rune meant. This room was much different than the bondage room. It was well lit with green walls on all sides and five trunks scattered about the room, and instead of a chaise lounge there was one, lonely wooden stool. The floors were black marble which reflected their images back in their vision as they walked across the threshold to the nearest trunk. Hermione pushed the top of it open, looking at the array of blindfolds and masks.

"Each one of these boxes represents a sense. Sight, for example." He walked over to another trunk, flicking his wand to make it open. Inside were feathers, crops, and nipple clamps, amongst others. "Touch."

Hermione walked over to another, smaller trunk and opened it. Inside were massage oils, fragrances, and lotions. This had to represent sense of smell.

"What do we start with, then?" she asked quietly, meeting his gaze.

"Why don't we start with taste?" He motioned to the stool. "Sit down."

As she approached the stool and took a seat, she muttered, "You really get off on telling people what to do, don't you?"

"No. Just you." He strolled over to the smallest trunk yet, sitting on a podium, and opened it. As he withdrew a small vial, he chewed on his bottom lip. "This will be fun."

"What is that?" she asked, pointing to the container as he approached her.

"This is a desire draught. When I put a drop of this on your tongue, you'll taste the food that you most desire."

"Well, that doesn't seem too bad," she mused, smiling sweetly up at him. Malfoy undid the stopper and dipped his finger in, collecting a bit on the tip. Then he removed it, strolled up to her, and brushed it across her lips. Hermione allowed him to slide his finger across her tongue before he removed it and waited. She licked at her lips as a surge of flavors tickled her taste buds. "Mmm…" She closed her eyes, groaning happily. "It tastes like my mum's pumpkin pie."

Malfoy chuckled, capping the vial and slipping it into his pocket. Unexpectedly, he reached out, cupped her face, and dipped in for a slow, sultry kiss that had them both grasping at each other's hair. She could taste the pumpkin pie on his tongue, and it made her ravenous. She instinctually spread her legs open, and he gladly stepped between them as they waged a battle for dominance with their tongues. Coming to her senses, Hermione pulled away from the kiss, planting little ones along the tip of his chin before she asked, "What did it taste like for you?"

"Blueberry tart."

She smiled, looking over at one of her hands that somehow was working against her will as it stroked down the side of his cheek affectionately. "Just any blueberry tart, or…?"

"The ones from Honeydukes."

"Those are really yummy."

"You're really yummy." He winked, and for a moment, she saw his guard down. He wasn't sneering, or quipping, or dominating. He was simply… Draco. And that was completely different from Malfoy. "Better than the tart." He chanced a glance at her hand stroking his face, and Hermione withdrew it immediately. He did not react, but simply took his gaze back to her. "What next, Granger?"

She looked around at the boxes, not wanting to be too forward too soon. She thought about it, and replied, "Sound? What do you think is in that one?" She hopped off the stool, brushing past him playfully as she made her way to the final box they had yet to open. Inside was a record player, and an assortment of music. She glanced back at him over her shoulder. "What's your poison, Draco?"

He smiled at the sound of his name, shrugging. "You select something, pet. I'm going to go check out another box for a moment."

"Alright," she replied, and for the first time, she didn't mind him calling her pet. It nearly sounded endearing, the way he said it. She ruffled through the selections, ranging from swing, to jazz, to sonatas, and finally, she came across something she approved of greatly. Her fingers tucked the record from its sleeve and she set it on the record player -the magic did the rest, and soon the cool selection of soft rock kicked around the room from all sides; not too loud, but enough to be noticed. Draco's -she supposed she could call him that now- head rose slowly as he dug through the fragrance trunk, and a cool grin graced his lips.

"You have excellent taste."

She smiled, feeling the blush settle across her face, and it dawned on her that, though she had only been in Malfoy's presence twice in the last six years, and both of them at Bond, she was falling into step with comfortability around him. She wondered why, but then thought she might as well not bother with trying to answer that question. She might never get her answer. And besides, there were more pressing details. Like, "What are you going to do with that?" She pointed to the bottle of oil in his hand.

He gave a nonchalant shrug. "Take off your clothes."

She blinked back at him as the sensual melody of electric guitar tickled her eardrums. "Why don't you?"

"Because I'm in control, and you're not." He set the bottle down on the stool and reached down to the bottom of her blouse. "I promise I'll make it worth your while." His voice reverberated his promise. "Come on, pet. For me." Hermione gave in when he tugged the material of her shirt up her stomach. She gave him complete control as he peeled it up and over her head, and then as he made work of her skirt and underwear. He gave an approving sound, telling her, "Stay in your heels. You look ravishing in them." Hermione, nervous, kicked her skirt and undies off of her ankles, being sure to keep the shoes; a pair of blue suede pumps. He circled her a few times, eyeing her body hungrily, before stopping in front of her. There, he reached up and flicked one of her nipples, making it pert. "Lovely." He repeated the motion to the other, earning a timid sigh from her. "Yes, you'll do nicely, Hermione." He cupped one of her breasts, and she closed her eyes. "Look at me." His voice was demanding, and it summoned her eyes back open, meeting his. "Good girl." He administered tender caresses to the mound in his grasp, jiggling her tit to watch it bounce. "Go over to the stool and hand me the oil, would you?"

He released her, then, and Hermione whimpered in response. His touch had been so intoxicating, she'd forgotten to breath, and now she gasped for breath as tiny dots formed in her vision. Merlin's beard, how long had she been holding her breath? -She did as she was told, making it quickly to the stool, catching her reflection in the marble flooring. She saw the curve of her breasts, the exposed skin of her stomach, the voluptuous curves of her hips. Did she really look so beautiful? Maybe the floor was spelled to make her feel that way. Or perhaps it had everything to do with the way Draco looked at her in that moment as she caught eyes with him upon reaching the stool.

She offered out the oil, and he took it with a smirk. "Now bend over the stool."

When Hermione stood rigid and did not comply, he rolled his eyes, grabbed her arm, spun her around, and bent her over the stool while twisting an arm behind her back. Hermione gasped, spreading her legs to balance herself as her stomach splayed across the wood. Draco kept his hold on her arm, pushing it further up her back and causing her to wince in pain. He pressed the zipper of his trousers into her backside, threatening.

"When I say do something, you do it. Do you understand?"

"Yes." She nodded, and he released her. Her free arm extended down the length of a stool leg, propping herself for balance as he stepped back and admired her. Her skin prickled with warmth as a firm hand came down across her ass cheek. "Mmmf…" She bit down on her lower lip.

"There's no red X to tell me to stop, pet. If anything we do gets to be too much for you, I want you to tell me."

"Alright."

"Did I frighten you when I twisted your arm?" He was quiet, but concerned.

Hermione slipped said arm down another stool leg and wrapped her fingers around the wood. "No."

"No, Master." He smacked her ass hard again, cupping his palm to add to the sound as it echoed throughout the room.

"No… Master."

"Good girl." He patted her ass and something cold and hard was placed across her tailbone. The oil container, she realized. "Don't move." He walked away from her, and Hermione struggled to keep the balance of the bottle secure. He walked over to the sight trunk, pulled out a soft, green blindfold with silk straps that tied in the back, and came back to stand in front of her. He crouched down to his haunches, smirking, and waved the blindfold in front of her face. "Ready?" She nodded, excitement building within her. He tethered the blindfold over her eyes and kissed her forehead. Hermione's legs ached with the want to move, but the bottle against her backside would fall, and for some reason she didn't want to seem so weak as to let it. She felt Malfoy caress her cheek with his palm, and then he rose to stand. His fingers skittered down her spine until he, finally, plucked the bottle off of her and gave her ass a harsh smack. Hermione groaned. The rhythmic drums and electric strum of the guitar from the record player added to the atmosphere as warm, silky liquid dripped down into the small of her back. Her back arched as the oil pooled into the dip of her spine. "So beautiful."

His words took her by surprise just as his hands did when they began to spread the oil down the sultry curves of her hips and ass cheeks. He massaged it in with vigorous detail, occasionally taking a slap to her bum and earning a moan from her. The scent of roses, lavender, and strawberries filled her lungs as the oil began to tingle with across her skin. "Mmm… it's warm."

"Yes, it is, pet." He dripped oil down her ass cheeks to let it trickle down her folds, and then his fingers were against her, rubbing the oil into her pussy lips and against her pulsing clit. Hermione threw her head back, mouth parted and breath unhinged as he slipped his thumb into her while gliding her clit between two of his fingers. "You're so tight. When was the last time someone unwound you?"

"I… I can't remember."

Draco withdrew his thumb and slipped his middle finger in, working her as he gripped the back of her thigh earnestly. Hermione shuddered under his touch, already feeling a slow build in her abdomen as the sensation of his finger took every last bit of resolve she thought she had. There was something so hypnotizing about being treated somewhere between a deity and something used only for his pleasure. With her eyes no longer in use, her other senses heightened. She could hear the raggedness of his breath as he slipped a second finger in, taking his time. Her legs shook under the weight of her commitment to stay perfectly still, as commanded, stomach pressed against the wooden seat and breasts exposed to the cool air. She could smell the fragranced oil, feel it as it tingled against her skin. She bit down on her lower lip to keep from crying out as he hit her g-spot.

"Oh, God…" she muttered, catching her breath. He pushed his fingers deeper, and she came undone, letting out a gurgled gasp and then a low, thick moan. She heard him chuckle, bringing his fingers out of her to drive them back in again, rougher this time. Her head fell forward, and she arched her back as she moved her ass back against his fingers, silently begging for more.

"So tense," he whispered. "Were you a good girl this week, Hermione?" He smacked her ass. "Did you touch yourself?"

"No, Mmm…master. I didn't."

"Not once?"

"No."

His fingers rested inside of her as he leaned forward and trailed his tongue up her backbone. "Are you telling the truth?"

"Y-Yes…"

His mouth made it to her left shoulder blade, where he left a few bites. His fingers still did not move. He was silent for a time. "I believe you." He started back up, working her slowly, teasingly this time, all while taunting her verbally. "I bet you were tempted though, weren't you? You thought about at least playing with yourself once... In the shower. Or alone, on your bed. I bet you soaked the sheets thinking about all of the things I didn't do to you?"

"Yes, Master."

"How many times did you fantasize about me?"

"I'm… mmm… not sure… I lost count."

"What did think about?"

"You. Doing this. Right here." She bit back a loud moan as his thumb began to play against her clit. "Oh, fuck…"

"Listen to that filthy mouth," he teased, "I think it could serve a better use, don't you?" His hand came down on her ass, the hardest one yet. Hermione yipped, and she was sure he smirked, even if she couldn't see it. "Tell me more about these erotic fantasies, Miss Granger. Did I fuck you?"

"Mmhmm…" she purred. "You bent me over my work desk."

The hand resting against her backside gripped her rougher, as if her words stirred a primal urge within him. "Did I? Go on."

"You tied me up, like last weekend. You pulled my hair, and you rode me hard." She felt his hand slip off of her ass cheek and up her spine, until it rested at the nape of her neck.

"Did I fuck you like this?" He quickened the pace with his fingers.

"Oh. Yes. Just like that."

"I bet you'd like to have this hard cock inside of you right now, wouldn't you?"

"Mmh… n-no…"

His hand grabbed a fistful of hair and tugged it back, jerking her head up. "No? Did you just tell me no, pet?" His grip tightened, and he yanked her upright off of the stool onto her feet, slipping his fingers out of her and shoving them into her mouth. "I don't do well with 'no.'"

Hermione smirked as she sucked the taste of herself off of his fingers and licked them clean. "I know, Master."

Who was she? Where had her old self gone? This new person who possessed her body became high off of the sensations that Draco Malfoy bestowed upon her, and she craved more.

He tugged at her hair and forced her down to her knees. "So you were purposefully defiant -to what? Get a rise out of me?"

"Yes, Master."

"You really want to be punished, don't you?"

"Yes." She nodded, excitement building within her. "Please. I've… I've been such a bad girl."

Malfoy made a pleased noise in the back of his throat and stalked around her, releasing her hair to trail his fingertips around her cheek down to her chin. He tilted her head upwards, then brushed the pad of his thumb against her lips. "You will never withhold from me again, am I clear?"

She swept her tongue across the nail of his thumb. "Yes, Draco." The simple act of defiance mixed with the pleasurable way she spoke his name conflicted him, and he tapped the finger under her chin as he thought about how to approach her insubordination.

"Say it again."

"What, Master?"

"You know what."

She bit on her lower lip seductively. "Draco."

"How does that name taste on your tongue, pet?"

"Like pumpkin pie."

He groaned audibly as Hermione's confidence soared. She reached up to his hand tucked under her chin and brought his index finger to her lips. There, she slipped it in and began to suck at it suggestively, tightening the pressure of her mouth as she let his finger slide down the back of her tongue and down her throat. She focused all of her efforts on ignoring her gag reflex and found it easier to do than she anticipated. Draco sighed, content, and pushed his finger as far as it would go.

"I always knew you'd be a filthy little slut. That's what you are, aren't you, Hermione? You're my little slut. Only for me, and no one else."

She nodded, bringing his finger to the tip of her lips before taking in a second finger and bobbing her head down until they were down her throat. She held him there, lips at his knuckles while she lapped tenderly at the base of his fingers with her tongue. Hermione was on a mission to prove something to him: that she was more than just a bookworm. That deep down inside, she had more to offer than textbook knowledge and photographic memory of incantations.

"Tell me what you want, pet." He withdrew his hand and patted her harshly on the cheek. "I want to hear you say it."

"I…" Hermione frowned, though she doubted he could see it because of the blindfold. Dirty talk was his area of expertise, not hers, and she had no idea where to begin. "I can't."

"You will," he commanded, "Or I walk away now."

She sighed, flushed with embarrassment and arousal. "I… I want to… I want to make you feel good, Master."

"And how would you go about that?"

"Putting… your cock in my mouth." She blinked behind the blindfold, surprised at the boldness of her words. It was liberating. She got braver. "I want to taste your cum as it spills down my throat." Oh, Heavens bells! Did she really just say that? She'd need to wash her mouth out with soap after this.

He chuckled, and then there was the sound of a buckle being loosened and a zipper tugged down. Something warm and firm brushed across her lips -she gasped, realizing it was his prick, hard and wanting, and ready for her. Draco took the gasp as opportunity and shoved the head into her mouth, followed by the shaft. Hermione, surprised, put her hands up to his hips to stop him, but he fisted the curls of her hair and pulled her face forward, until he rested about three-fourths of the way inside her. It took her a moment to get used to the size -it had girth to it (more than Ron's, at least), and as it touched the back of her throat, she realized he would, indeed, have to shove it down her throat in order to fit it in. She took the challenge, inhaling through her nose before jerking his hips forward and swallowing him.

Draco hissed an anxious breath, and the fingers in her hair loosened their grip as he rocked his hips forward. "Fuck, Granger… My little cock-hungry whore…" One hand rested on the back of her head, while the other stroked down the side of her cheek. Hermione's mouth watered, and as she slid her mouth down his shaft to the tip, she increased the pressure, so that he could feel every warm, wet bit of her tongue. Malfoy took his hand from her cheek and steadied his cock in front of her, brushing the tip down her chin. "Beg me to let you suck me."

This was all so new to Hermione, and she ate it up like Christmas dinner. Why hadn't she explored submission sooner? It felt so freeing, giving over all control to someone else. She didn't have to think about paperwork, or who she would let down if she didn't take charge. With Malfoy, she could just be. And that thought alone made her desperate to please him, to give him everything he desired.

"Please, Master. Let me suck your cock. I've thought about it all week. Let me taste you. Let me make you feel good. I promise I'll be a good girl if you just let me lick it."

The hand behind her head prompted her forward, and she heard him give a happy sigh. "Who am I to deny my good girl? Open wide, now. And stick out your tongue. -That's it, baby. That's a good girl," he encouraged as Hermione repeated every action, feeling a bit silly as her tongue lay out there in the open -that was, until he ran the head of his cock across it so that she could taste his precum. "Say it. Say you're mine."

"I'm yours, Master."

"Who do you belong to?"

"You."

"That's right. And if I wanted to, I could have my way with you anytime, day or night. Isn't that right?"

"Yes, Master."

"When you're here, you belong to me. And that means I get to do," without warning, he shoved his cock into her mouth and down her throat, holding the back of her head with both hands to keep her from pulling away, "Whatever I want. -If I wanted you to choke on it, you'd do it. Wouldn't you?" She nodded, the head of his cock pulsing in her throat, and he released her again so that she fell back, struggling for breath. Her hand went up to her neck, instinctively, rubbing at the tender muscles. Draco's hand came out and smacked her lightly on the cheek. "Ah, ah. No ma'am. Hands down at your sides, love." She nodded, resting her hands in her lap. It was a subtle act of defiance, and either he didn't notice or chose not to react to it. She heard him walk away from her, and she pouted her lip.

"Where are you going…Master?" He didn't answer. "Draco?"

She heard the sound of a trunk creaking as he sifted through it. Something metal clinked against itself, and he approached her slowly, finally speaking. "Sit up straight." She did, and something cold and hard clamped down on her right nipple.

"Ow!"

"Shh…" A finger brushed against her lips to silence her.

Another pinch of metal to the left one, and then a tug at the chain connecting them. Hermione groaned as the clamps tugged hard on her nipples and made her breasts ache in delectable pain. Ron would have died of mortification if she'd ever suggested something like this. Draco didn't even care to ask her if she was interested. He simply did. It seemed to be his approach on life.

There was a shuffling of clothing as Hermione waited patiently. Then his hands reached down and brought her own up to the defined muscles of his abdomen. "I've wanted you for so long, Hermione," he whispered. "To have you just like this, at my feet, worshiping me."

Her nipples pulsed as did the want between her thighs. She dipped her head forward and kissed against the lower part of his stomach, surprised at the smoothness of his skin. Ron was softer, hairier too. Draco was nothing but sculpted perfection mixed with delicious sweat. The only hairs she found on him rested just above the waistband of his underwear that she tugged further down as she kissed him over and over.

He patted her on the head, prompting her to cease her movements. She rested her cheek against his hipbone and waited for his command. "Down on all fours, pet. I want your ass up so you can show me that lovely pussy." He backed away from her, and Hermione rested her palms down against the cool marble, obedient in every way. She listened to his shoes clack across the floor as he circled her, clapping slow in approval. There was another shuffle of clothing, and then he fell to his knees behind her. Hermione knew that he had, even though she couldn't see it. She just knew. She thought he might drive home and shove his prick inside of her, but he surprised her by pulling her ass backwards and diving in, tongue out, into her slit.

Hermione moaned. Oh, Merlin, but his tongue felt so good. Draco lapped eagerly as he leaned back, taking her with him until she practically sat atop his face. There was a tug at the chain between her nipple clamps, prompting her forward and down until she felt his cock brush against her cheek. Hermione took no time in wrapping her fingers around the hard organ and slipping it into her mouth while Draco feasted on her, pressing his tongue inside her before sucking along her clit. He dragged his tongue all the way up, even between her cheeks, and she gasped when she felt his tongue touch a part of her no one else had. She forgot, momentarily, about her task of sucking him off, lost in the sensation as he expertly rimmed her.

"Mmm…fuck… oh… Draco…"

He spanked her ass crisply before prying his mouth away to leave a bit on one cheek and then the other. "Mine."

"Yours…" She nodded helplessly.

"Every single bit of you is mine, Hermione. Don't you ever forget that." He propped her hips upwards and dove back to lick at the lips of her pussy again, this time paying careful attention to her clit. She lowered her mouth back onto him again and began to bob her head up and down, her mouth nearly as wet as the other set of lips between her legs. She sucked at him with vigor, concentrating, even when he attempted to distract her by applying feather-light kisses to her clitoris. Before Hermione realized what she was doing, her hips started to move in time with his tongue, and her mouth bobbed up and down happily on his prick. She could feel him tense as his cock twitched in her mouth, and she quickly dove her head forward and pushed him down her throat in time for him to spill his warm cum into her. He came hard, hips thrusting up, and he temporarily ceased his pleasure to her to take in his own orgasm as it washed over him. His breath came in jagged pants, and he laughed between gasps of breath. "Fuck…" He smacked her ass playfully. "I knew you'd be worth it." He yanked her upright, settling her atop his face, and his tongue went at her again with newfound resolve. He licked, nibbled, tasted, flicked his tongue -anything he could do to build her up past the tipping point. Hermione's hand slid up her stomach as the other fisted her hair.

"Oh, God, yes… Thank you, Master. Thank you. It feels so good… yes.. eat me out…" The words poured from her as if gospel. "Make me come, Master. Please. Please, Draco. I want to come. I need to-" And then she came, the inside of her clenching up and releasing with baptismal glory. Draco gingerly licked every bit of her, riding out her bliss with attentive ministrations until he was satisfied. He gave her kiss one last clit before rested his head against the floor to watch her legs shake. And boy, did they ever. Her legs tremored in the post-orgasmic high Draco had given her. Eventually, she gave up trying to hold herself up and rested her stomach across his chest, knees beside his ribcage, her cheek on his thigh. Her breathing came in pants as a bead of sweat dripped down her jaw.

"How long has it been since someone made you come, Hermione?" he asked quietly.

"Too long," she whispered back.

He laid there, pensive, for a time, before he spoke again. "One room down. Four to go."

She cracked a smile against his leg, tempted to take off the blindfold just so she could see his smirk he surely wore, but caught herself last moment. She hadn't been ordered to take it off, and she wasn't about to screw up their new dominant/submissive tryst. His hands slid up the back of her thighs and spread her legs wider, exposing her further to him. Her bravery took root in the form of words. "Do you like what you see, Draco?"

"Hell yes, I do." He chuckled. "…Hermione?"

She lifted her head. "Yes?"

"I… never mind." He fell silent.

"What is it?"

"It's nothing." He ushered her off of him to lay on her side, and turned his body so that he lay flesh against her, chest to chest. His hand snaked around her back and tugged her close, brushing his nose against hers. "Did you like that?"

"Yes." She nodded, finding a lazy smile. She felt a tug at the back of the blindfold, and light flooded her eyes as he removed it. When her eyes adjusted to the brightness, she found him staring at her, lips drawn in a playful smirk.

"Good," he said, leaning forward and giving her a kiss to her lips. "See what happens when you're compliant?" He brushed a lock of hair behind her ear and planted a few more kisses around her lips, her jaw, her cheeks. "My beautiful Granger, all to myself." He looked as if he meant the words, and her heart jumped. "New assignment when you get home, pet."

"What's that?"

He grinned mischievously. "Touch yourself to the thought of me. Every night. Every morning. At your desk," he licked his lips, "In the bath. Anytime you want. Just do it to the thought of me. -Can you do that?"

She responded with a nod.

He swatted her on the bum for sport. "Good girl. Next Friday. Same time."


That night, when Hermione said her goodbyes and arrived at her small, one bedroom flat once again, she immediately threw herself onto the bed, Draco's smirk still playing behind her eyelids. And she touched herself to the thought of him. And it was glorious.