Wow. Let me just say, thank you to everyone who has followed, favorited, and reviewed this story thus far. I hope that part 3 makes you giddy!
Waymay, I owe you all the thanks for editing this chap for me, and for not laughing at me through IM over it. XD
~A.
P.S. If you like the chapter, please consider leaving a review or favorite/following this story? XD Thank you!
"New Perspective" by Panic! At The Disco
"Count them."
Smack. "Ah! One."
"Very good. Again."
Smack. "Mmh. Two."
"Wonderful. Again."
Smack! "AH! Th-Three…" SMACK. "Four!" SMACK. SMACK. SMACK! "Five! Si-Six! Seven…" She pressed her eyes shut as the heated stings on her backside were replaced with the cool fingertips of his hand as they brushed down her ass cheek. There, Draco traced the outline of his palm, making a pleased sound when Hermione arched her back in response. The bite of the spanks had spread out into a heat across her skin, painful and yet oddly satisfying, and by the time his hand came down, unexpectedly, she all but screamed, "Eight!"
"What a good little pet you are," he praised, changing up the focus to her other cheek with the stubble of his chin as he brushed his face against the less sensitive bundle of flesh. Hermione's fingers curled tighter around the chair's top rail, her knees digging into the splat, toes curling. She made the brave attempt to turn her face and glance back at him in all of his glory, dressed to the nines tonight in a charcoal button-up and black silk vest, the arms of his sleeves rolled up to the elbow. His Dark Mark contrasted the ivory skin tone of his forearm, making it the center of attention as it rested against his dress slacks. It was a sight to behold; Draco Malfoy, on his knees as Hermione Granger positioned herself on a simple wooden chair, save but for the nice bit of plush designed into the seating to protect her knees from going numb. She had been ordered to strip and present herself on this chair as soon as they had entered 'The Punishment Room.' Adequately named, it held an array of combination toys from the bondage room as well as several others. This was the first room she hadn't been allowed to choose, reasoning been that, because she had denied him earlier this week, she needed to be taught a lesson. Why she agreed to it was beyond her, but, thinking back, maybe she had egged it on a bit.
The guilt should have been there. She knew, with every fiber of her being, that what she had done with Draco Malfoy at Bond two weekends in a row was neither logical nor moral. If the black domino mask had anything to say on the matter, it was a blaring siren that warned her, as Luna had suggested, to stay away. He was a married man, and that's all there was to it.
So why, in the middle of this Wednesday afternoon, filing paperwork at her desk, did she fantasize about him? It wasn't stable. He wasn't hers, and she wasn't his.
'That's what you are, aren't you, Hermione? You're my little slut.'
Alright. Maybe at Bond, in some twisted, unholy way, she had allowed herself to belong to him for one night. But that certainly didn't mean she was his right now, in her office, even as the evidence of her arousal dampened between her legs. She sighed, setting her face in her hands as she rested her elbows atop the table, silently reprimanding herself for taking it so far. This was something highly inappropriate, fantasizing about Draco Malfoy in her place of work when she knew she needed to make copies of the Jameson case to take down to Floor two…
A knock came to her office door, and she clamped her skirted legs together forcefully as her secretary, Scarlet Whempleton, stepped inside. Scarlet's eyes were wide, and she fanned herself with her clipboard as she said, "Miss Granger, you have a visitor."
"What?" Hermione raised both of her eyebrows, shuffling some paperwork nervously on her desk to calm the heat that radiated over her skin from her fantasies. She found it shocking someone would want to speak to her in her office -usually, when someone wished to discuss the legalities of magical creatures, they would discuss it with her supervisor in length before making an appointment. "I don't remember having a visitor scheduled."
"You didn't, but… they say they're here to discuss the freeing of all of their house elves?" Scarlet looked behind her, out the door, as if still in disbelief. "I think it's Draco Malfoy!" she shouted in a hushed whisper.
The icy chill that settled over Hermione's skin was instantaneous, and she sat still, in silence, for a moment to process. "Draco… Malfoy… here… at my office. Wishing to discuss house elves?"
"Y-Yes, ma'am."
"Blonde hair? Pale skin? Demanding gray eyes that look like they could rip you in half?"
"That's the one. -Of course, I think you've described nearly every Malfoy in existence today…"
"Send him in."
"Al-alright." Scarlet gave her associate a nod before leaving and returning with someone behind her; a certain someone with an infamous smirk cradled across his alluring face. "A Mister Malfoy here to see you, Miss Granger."
"Welcome." Her voice wasn't charming like it usually was with potential clientele -it wasn't harsh, either, like she could be when dealing with unwelcome visitors. It was void of all tone, protecting herself of any preconceived notions until she could get to the bottom of things. "Have a seat." She gestured to the cushioned chair across the desk from her, and Draco smirked, almost appreciatively, as he took his place atop it. "Thank you, Scarlet."
"Yes ma'am." Scarlet nodded, eyes still wide as saucers as she left, shutting the door firmly behind her.
Immediately, Hermione's eyes turned on the blonde socialite in her office, and she stared intensely at him, waiting for an explanation. All she received in response, however, was that constant smirk and the comment that followed. "Abnormally small office, wouldn't you say?"
Her mouth fell open, and she popped a hand down on her desk. "What are you doing here?"
"Hmm? Didn't your assistant tell you? I'm in the process of freeing a few of my house elves, and wanted to speak over legalities-"
"Don't give me that trite nonsense." Hermione waved her wand and cast a quick silencing spell so that Scarlet wouldn't hear her reprimand a Malfoy to the point of screaming. Her voice became louder with each word as she said, "It is one thing to meet up on the weekend, but it is something else entirely to show up at my office, unannounced, and… and…!" Well, what was he doing here, really?
"And?" He quirked an eyebrow.
"And…" She leaned back into her chair, arms folded in her lap, and shrugged. "And… I have no clue what you're doing here." She pointed an accusing finger at him. "But I know damn well it has nothing to do with house elves."
"You've caught me." He threw up his hands in mocking submission, mirroring her and also leaning back in his chair. "I was in the Ministry on other business and couldn't resist coming to visit you in your department."
"To make fun of my small office space?"
"To check in on you." His voice was teasing, and yet oddly serious at the same time. He brushed an imaginary speck of lint off of his silver button down vest and cocked his head to the side.
"Why?" Hermione asked, utterly flabbergasted. "You… when we're outside of… of Bond… you've never…"
"I've been thinking about you," he admitted. "Sue me."
"Maybe I will."
"Oh, come now, Granger." He rolled his eyes. "Why all of the animosity?"
"Look." She crossed her arms. "Just because we've shared a few enjoyable evenings together at a club doesn't warrant you the right to show up at my office out of the blue. What if word got out that you were here, hmm? What would your wife think?"
Draco's jaw tensed, and his gray eyes flickered up to hers dangerously. "I think that's for me to ponder on, not you."
"I will not be a homewrecker."
"You aren't."
"You've shown up to my office. Mid-week. To 'check up on me'?" She sighed, stood up from her chair, and gestured towards the door. "You may leave, now."
"I'm not going anywhere."
"Should I call security?"
"And here I thought you didn't want all eyes on the fact that I'm here, in your office." He made a tisking sound and tapped his foot on the floor.
Sighing again, she placed a hand to her forehead to make sure she wasn't, in fact, having a fever induced hallucination. "I'm so confused."
"Clearly." He patted his lap, much like he had done last weekend at the club, and stared at her expectantly. Hermione raised both of her eyebrows, looked about the room, and then finally focused her eyes back towards him.
"You cannot be serious right now."
"I, vaguely, recall you agreeing that I could have my way with you, any time. Day or night."
She glanced up at the closed door and then back down to him. "Yes. I said that. In Bond. But this…" She gestured between them. "This isn't what I meant."
"Come on, pet," he smirked, patting his lap again. "Just sit in my lap for two minutes. Give me something to look forward to this weekend."
"No. -You're a married man. Go get your wife to sit on your lap. This is done." She threw up her hands and made to move towards the door to open it, but Draco caught her by the wrist and halted her advance.
"What do you mean this is done?"
"I mean, no more. It's one thing to meet at a club, discreetly. It's an entirely different thing to show up in my office and…" his thumb traced circles along the pulse vein in her wrist, forcing her breathing to hitch unexpectedly. She forced herself to swallow the feeling of lust and said, "And you need to go."
"Do I?" He brought her wrist up to his lips and kissed it delicately. "Hermione, we both know you don't mean that."
"I most certainly do."
"Then why is your arm trembling?"
She narrowed her eyes, realizing that he was, indeed, correct. Her hand shook in his clutches. "Clearly, it's because on some primal level, I find you attractive."
"So you'd really like me to go?"
"Yes."
"Pet…"
"I'm not your pet. We're just two people who fooled around on a whim. I, clearly, have some repressed sexual issues stemming from my failed marriage, and you… I have no clue what's wrong with you."
"I do." He tugged her closer, trailing brazen kisses up her arm. Each press of his lips enveloped her skin in warmth and tingles, until her eyes fell closed, listening to the soothing sound of his voice as he whispered between kisses, "I haven't been able to stop thinking about you, Granger. Not once. And it sickens me, because I've never known I could feel like such a schoolboy. Just the thought of you, at work, bending over paperwork as that little crinkle between your eyebrows-"
"Stop it." She jerked her arm out of his reach and opened her eyes again. Warm brown met frigid silver, and she shook her head in dismissal. "We shouldn't." And though she said the words, there was something so telling in her tone; she didn't believe what she was selling, and Draco caught on. He rose to stand, towering over her and tilting his head as he leaned in, nose to nose.
"You and I both know that this," he brushed his fingertips down her cheek, "won't stop. Not by me. And most certainly not by you."
"Don't underestimate the power of a determined woman," she scowled, though she made no effort to move. The way his fingers danced across her skin as he slid them down her neck caught her in a haze of sensations, ranging from timid to sex-crazed. In some small way, it was almost flattering, thinking he had taken time out of his day to stop by her office. Flattering and idiotic. "You should go."
"You really mean that?"
"I… o-of course I do. You're disrupting my work day." Her eyes fluttered closed as his fingers made their way back up her neck and he tucked a few stray curls that had fallen out of her bun behind her ear. "You're a distraction," she said decidedly, forcing her eyes back open. Draco's eyes searched her own, the ice of his irises melting into calming slate grey. "Stop looking at me that way."
"What way?"
'Like you care about me,' she thought. "Like… like what we have isn't purely experimental."
"Is that what you think it is?" His voice wasn't hurt, but there was the force of a sincerity behind the question, as if he truly wanted to know her answer and didn't already know it himself. "Experimental?"
"I've given this a lot of thought," she said, her voice hoarse and quiet as a whisper. Indeed, she had pondered over what was going on among them for the last two weeks now and between fantasizing over him. And she'd come to a conclusion. "And since I know that you're just as new to the floors as I am, it is the only reasonable explanation."
"You're just full of assumptions," he mused, entertained.
"Am I incorrect? Have you gone up to the upper floors with others?"
"No." He smirked.
"So it's new for you, too."
"In a way…"
She narrowed her eyes. "None of what you ever say makes any sense."
"Let me uncomplicated it for you, then." He brought his face closer to hers, so that they were nose-to-nose. "As of this moment, you're the only one I've found interesting enough to venture up to Tier Two. There's something compelling about you, Granger, and I'm determined to find out what that is."
"Oh. Well, let me uncomplicated it for you, then." She poked his chest with her forefinger. "You, obviously, have some deep-rooted notions in your head that you were infatuated with me as a child. But the truth is; I'm familiar. That's what the allure is for you. You can try out those upper floors without the guilt of knowing you've fooled around, without your wife, with a stranger. In some sick fashion, you can justify me because I'm, in a word, safe. You know I wouldn't tell the presses about your tastes in sexual deviancies, and you've tricked yourself into thinking that we have some connection to take away the guilt that you've cheated on your wife." When the smirk didn't fall from his face as anticipated, she furrowed her eyebrows. "Why are you still smiling?"
He chuckled, rubbing his nose against hers. "I'm just waiting for you to figure it out."
"What's there to figure? You're not an equation, Malfoy."
"Draco," he corrected.
"It's my office. I'll address you however I like." She felt around her desk while keeping her face perfectly still against his, and her fingers grasped the bit of paperwork she had been looking for. She brought her hand up and slid a pamphlet between their noses, forcing him to back up a few inches. "House elf liberation -and you!" She recited the attentive title from memory. "Read it. Live it. Love it." She shoved the pamphlet into his chest. "When you're ready to discuss your liberation options, you may make an appointment with Miss Whempleton outside. Until then, don't show up at my office unannounced."
Draco's fingers gripped around the paper, and he raised an eyebrow as he read over the title. "Thank you, Miss Granger." His smirk widened exponentially. "I'll be sure to do that."
Hermione's mouth fell open, and she stared at him inquisitively. "G…Get out of my office."
"Certainly." He bowed his head gracefully, and when he raised it again, he winked. "So I'll see you on Friday?"
"And if I say no?"
"Then you'll find your appointment book quite full."
"You wouldn't."
"Oh, I would." He looked to the pamphlet with mocking adoration. "I simply can't grasp the bylaws. I'm sure it'll take me quite a long time figure these out, and who better to liberate me on the terms than you?"
"Fine! Oh my Lord! Fine! I'll be there Friday!"
"Great." He tucked the pamphlet inside of his vest breast pocket. "All of a sudden, I feel much more up to code on the terminology. Thank you again, Miss Granger." He strolled to the door, one hand tucked in his pants pocket. "Oh, by the way." He turned his head to her. "I'll be picking the next room."
"What? No you won't. The deal was I would choose."
"Yeah… no. The topic isn't open for discussion." He turned the handle, dampening her resolve to comment back, as the silencing charm would only work if the door remained closed. He said in a loud voice so that Scarlet could here, "Thank you so much for your time, Miss Granger. I feel like I understand everything quite clearly now. I'll just make an appointment on the way out, then?"
Hermione snatched up a book off her desk and threatened to throw it at him, and he stifled back a laugh.
"Tell you what. Why don't you owl me when you're free?" He gave her a dangerously enticing wink and shut the door behind him.
"Nine!" Hermione squealed, biting down on her lower lip shortly after to hold back the scream that wanted to break out. This last blow to her backside had been crisp and more forceful than any of the others. It held with it the weight of his hand, not having left her cheek since its brutal lash. His lips pressed against the sway in her back, tender and caring in comparison to the sting of her ass.
"You're doing so well," he whispered, fingers digging into her burning skin. "I'm so proud of you."
She swallowed a lump in her throat, embarrassed by the way his praises set a fire in her lower belly. That burn in her abdomen nearly matched the one on her backside, and she wanted desperately to hear more of his approval. "Thank you."
"You're most certainly welcome," he said affectionately, kissing the dip between her shoulder blades. "Are you ready for more?"
She gave a small nod, and his palm paddled her ass cheek firmly, forcing a tear into her eye. Though this last smack wasn't as hard as the last one, her skin was still extremely sensitive, so the pain heightened exponentially. "Ten..!" She let her head fall forward, nails digging into the wood.
"I told you never to deny me again. And what did you do on Wednesday?" SMACK.
"I… I told you no, Sir."
"That's right, pet. Do you think I enjoy hearing you tell me no?"
"Maybe a little…" SMACK. "Ouch! N-No, sir!"
"Count them."
"Eleven. Twelve."
"Wrong. We're starting over."
"What?" She whipped her head around and stared, wide-eyed at him. "Why?"
"Because I fancy it." He pushed himself up and stood, walking around the chair to stare down at her. The silver in his eyes was just a ring in comparison to his dilated pupils. "And because you deserve it." He tucked his arms behind his back and smirked. "Say it. You deserve to be punished."
Her heart raced, and she couldn't resist the thrill that rushed through her veins as her adrenaline kicked in. "I deserve it. I denied you, and I'm sorry." He raised a foreboding eyebrow, and she added, "Sir." It had been requested (or demanded, depending on how she looked at it) that she refer to him as 'Sir' this evening.
"Great. Glad we're in agreement. -Go pick out your switch."
"What?"
"I'm sorry, pet. Did I stutter? I said -Go. Pick out. Your switch." He untucked an arm to push his fingers under her chin and bring her face up to look at him. "You've been a bad girl, Hermione. You made assumptions, you denied me what is mine, and, as I recall, you threatened to throw a book at me."
"You were sort of being an ass…" Lightly, his fingers tapped across her cheek -not a full slap, but enough to get her attention.
"Careful. I might just go pick out your punishment for you." His eyes danced dangerously in the candlelight of the room. "Go on, pet. Pick something out and present it to me."
Falling into step with her role from last week, she did as she was told, enjoying the lack of control. She had decided that, perhaps, this was the reason why she came back for a third weekend in a row. Aside from the fact that she felt a deep-seeded attraction for her once childhood enemy, there was something so freeing in handing over all control to someone else for a few hours of her life. Draco had yet to do anything she didn't like, so it gave her some sense of comfort in knowing that he would be the one to tell her what to do, how to do it, and when. All of her life, she had delegated her friends, her family, her relationships. Giving someone else the reins… it was a weight off of her shoulders. Maybe Luna had known she would need something like this. The blonde always had a way of knowing things about people that they didn't know about themselves -about life, in general. Though Hermione still doubted there was ever such a thing as a nargle.
"Get out of your head," said Draco, bringing her attention back around. "What are you thinking?"
"Honestly?" She asked, pushing herself up off the chair. "Nargles."
"What?"
"Exactly. Never mind it." She waved her hand dismissively and noticed the way his eyes raked over her presented, naked form. Suddenly self-conscious, she made to block her most exposed body parts, but he stepped around the chair, rendering her still.
"Turn around," he said, and she did. She knew his eyes were now on her sure-to-be-reddened backside, and a hand came out, resting along her left cheek possessively. "Empty your mind."
"I… don't know how to do that."
"Try. -Close your eyes."
"But-"
"-Just do it."
She sighed, and did. "Why?"
"Because I cannot properly give you your punishment if you're not entirely here, in this moment." Soft lips ghosted the shell of her ear, and her body leaned back, instinctually, against his. "So let your mind empty. Forget about work. Or home. Focus on me. On this." His fingers slid around her hips and rested there. "Don't pretend this hasn't been the anticipated highlight of your week." He kissed along her ear, her neck, her jaw… "Admit you love coming here."
"Why?"
"I need to hear it."
Since when did Draco Malfoy need anything from her? "I thought this was supposed to be a punishment," she whispered, trying to tease to alleviate some of the tension building between them.
"Are you enjoying yourself?"
"Admittedly, a bit."
His lips smirked against her throat. "Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"Go pick out your switch, then."
He pushed her forward, causing her to stumble and whimper at the lack of contact. For all that she pretended not to, she was beginning to love these nights with him, even though she knew it couldn't be anything more than that. These moments, lost in the submissive nature of his dominating personality, were fleeting and disconnected from the rest of her reality. Seeing him, at her office, had stirred a painful reminder that this could only be fun. Not because she wanted something more. But just the knowledge that she was being used for his own, personal fun, and could go back to his relationship at the end of the day with no qualms… she was envious of it. When this night ended, she would be forced to face her realities; she was alone, once again, in her flat. This, between them, would once again be placed on the back burner, and she would be nothing more than a pretty item kept at his disposal. How long would this last, she wondered, before he grew tired of her and moved on to something -someone- else?
The question ate at her, burning a hole inside of her soul. He shouldn't have come on Wednesday. Because before then, she hadn't asked herself these thought-provoking questions. She hadn't been forced to see him outside of Bond, to be reminded he existed in the real world too, and not just here. He lived a life completely outside of his nights with her. Maybe it was because of her divorce, but she felt the same burning jealousy start to eat at her the way she felt when she thought of Ron moving on with his life. To think she wasn't the center of anyone's world anymore… it hurt. It was all the punishment Draco never meant to give her, but had.
Her eyes raked over the East wall, where switches from all walks of life were displayed. Her fingers grazed over the bullwhip, the riding crop, the firm sticks and wooden canes. Each one would contain a special kind of feeling against her, she was sure, and though she would never tell him, she performed some research on her downtime, determined to soak in the knowledge of this new arena. Because she wouldn't be Hermione Granger if she didn't know what to anticipate beforehand. She knew she didn't want -too- much pain, and she was pretty sure, by her research, that Draco was not a sadist. His care and attention to her proved that he only got off on what kind of pleasure she would receive from him. He, also, just happened to like being in control of the situation at the same time. She'd psychoanalyzed it to the point where she determined perhaps his lack of control in his childhood made him crave it now. The Dark Mark across his arm was a choice bared to him by pressure from his father and a need to please. He, even now, possessed the same need, though it was much more forceful and structured. She was sure as long as she gave him control, he would give her whatever she desired.
Her eyes kept coming back to the riding crop, and she licked her lips as she reached out, plucked it from the wall, and presented it to him. "This one."
He gave her an impressed nod of the head as he took it from her and gestured back to the chair. "So confident," he noted. "How interesting."
"You don't like it?" she asked, climbing back onto the chair, facing towards it, ass out and fingers gripped around the railing.
Draco smirked, tapping the leather flap at the end into his palm over and over. "Oh. I love it." His face lit to life in cheerful eagerness. She felt happy she could put that expression on his face. It looked so pretty on him. "I'll let you choose how many you believe you deserve. This is, after all, your punishment."
Hermione closed her eyes and turned her head forward, not wanting him to see the blush that crept up her face. She mulled the idea around in her mind a few moments before answering, "Seven, Sir."
"Why seven, pet?"
"One for each day of the week we were apart. And two for denying you on Wednesday."
He chuckled approvingly and stepped up behind her. "Sounds fair. Count them."
THWACK. The leather flap at the end smacked atop the middle of her right cheek, a controlled sting sending shivers down her spine. It was different than the hand, but in a pleasant way. She thought it would hurt more. Instead, the pain was gone almost as quickly as it came. "One."
THWACK.
"Two."
With each swat to her behind, Hermione felt a little bit of herself give way to someone else; she felt so distracted from the everyday hustle and bustle. All that mattered was Draco, the crop, and counting out her punishment for him. Gone were her worries, her stresses, the guilt that plagued her on most nights following something like this. She only wanted to take another smack and press on, earning another room as a notch in her belt. "Ah! Five."
She squeezed her eyes tight, ready for the sixth swat, but it didn't come. Instead, a warm hand pressed against her round backside and massaged the skin there. "No more." He stroked his fingers up her back and rested them on her shoulder. "You've been such a good girl, Hermione."
She tilted her head to the side, smiling at the sound of her name. "Thank you."
"You deserve a reward."
"I do?"
"Of course you do. -Get dressed. You choose the next room." She felt him place the silky fabric of her black dress over her shoulder at the same time that his lips pressed against her cheek. Blushing, she climbed off of the chair, slipped the dress on, and picked up her heels. Draco smiled at her -a genuine smile- and took her hand, lacing their fingers together. "See? That wasn't so bad, was it?" She blushed in response, opting out of talking in fear of ruining the moment as he led her towards the door. He turned the handle, and as the door swung open, she could see the rune branded against it lose its illuminating glow.
The lounge on Tier Two was sparse of couples this evening. Most of them were still down on Tier One, dancing it up and selecting a worthy partner. Draco wasted no time in dragging her up to the second floor upon her arrival, even when Blaise and Pansy insisted that they at least have a round of shots first. He'd been ravenous in his determination to get her upstairs, and demanding once he'd achieved it. So seeing this side of Draco, so tender and affectionate, had Hermione's head spinning.
He walked them out of the room, pulling her into a deep, controlling kiss that made her stomach turn in knots. His hands slipped into her hair, giving it a firm tug in the back as his tongue brushed against her lower lip, simply telling her what to do next. She gave in, meeting his tongue with hers, and they stayed wrapped in each other's arms for a few minutes, her hands sliding up and down his chest, his back, his bum, wanting to remember every detail so that she could frig herself to her memories later. In a moment of passion, he scooped her up by her bum and hooked her legs around his waist before shoving them both into the wall behind her. Hermione's head hit with a definitive smack, but so lost in his kiss, she could, hardly, care less.
"Sorry," he muttered between kisses.
"Don't be," she replied breathlessly, dipping her head under his to steal a kiss below his ear, right along his jaw. She'd been dying to test this theory out since Pansy had claimed it his weak spot, and judging by the low, dismally uncontrolled moan that escaped his lips, the Slytherin woman had been correct. Interesting. She wasn't sure she wanted to know how she knew, but she was thankful for the advice.
"Hermione… oh, fuck." His fingers pressed into her hips as she nibbled along his earlobe, turning the tide in their roles. She was sure if she kept this up, she could have him on his knees if she desired. "Mmm… pick a room."
"I don't know the runes," she admitted in a seductive whisper, "Remind me again? Some of the rooms?" She became so comfortable with kissing Draco, she didn't mind if the two other couples in the lounge saw them snog like teenagers against the wall. Bond was becoming something addicting to her -as was Draco.
He gasped as she trailed kisses up and down his neck, and it took everything in him to concentrate on his answer. "There's the roleplay room, the voyeur room, the toy room-"
"That one." She jerked her head back to stare him in the eyes. "That one, please."
"Alright, then." He smirked, setting her down to the floor and slipping his hand in hers. He led her across the lounge, to a door with a symbol of a spiral with three lines slashed between it. As the lounge was mainly empty, the room was as well, and he pulled her into it without a second thought.
This one was different than the others -it was a rectangular room lined with two, plush leather sofas, navy blue walls with white trim, a fireplace in the center across from the sofas, and a window, no doubt bewitched to look like a fresh fallen snow waited outside. "Wow…" She placed a hand to her mouth and gasped. "This room is so beautiful."
"Is it?" Draco asked, releasing her hand. "Hmm. I suppose it is sort of charming." He strolled across the carpeted floor and took a seat on the sofa adjacent to the fireplace. "Sit."
This time, Hermione did not disagree. She didn't try to rationalize her thoughts, only obeyed and sat in his lap, folding her arms around his neck. She started a trail of kisses from his cheek to his ear to his neck and down to his collar, listening to his satisfied sighs as if they were gold stars of a job well done. Draco pulled her legs up onto the sofa so she draped across him bridal style, and there he turned his head and captured her lips in a soft, compelling kiss. Something stirred between them this evening that wasn't there before; a sense of urgency. It was as if they both knew with each room checked off of the list, they were one step closer to the romantic intimacy of the love-making experience he'd promised her. While Hermione felt excited at the prospect of adventure, she also realized that, afterwards, the future was fuzzy. Perhaps their tryst would end at the same time that their contractual agreement, or perhaps he'd want to continue on with experimenting? What did that make her to him? She didn't like the idea of being some side dish to a main course meal. Of course, this was Draco Malfoy. What more could she expect of something like what they had? Did she really expect him to be compelled to care for her more than some sexual endeavor? Why did that thought make her want to tear out of the room crying her eyes out? Since when did this adventure get emotional?
Not wanting to dwell on it, she pulled away from their kissing frenzy to ask, "Wasn't this supposed to be a toy room? I don't see any."
"This room works differently than most of the other rooms. Every person is a bit different with preferences, so the room takes a person's likes and dislikes into account, creating the perfect situation for one's needs."
"It's a room of requirement."
"Precisely."
"How peculiar!" Hermione glanced around the room, eager. "That sort of magic is extremely complex. I've never heard of anyone being able to replicate it outside of Hogwarts. The owner of this establishment must have some sort of knowledge on the subject. So they'd have to be a Hogwarts-alumni, wouldn't they?"
Draco shrugged. "I try not to dwell on those sort of things. Takes the fun out of the place."
"How would you know?" She raised an eyebrow. "Come to think of it, how do you know so much about these rooms in the first place? If you've never been up here with someone…"
His answer was quick. "Blaise and Pansy spend many-a-night in these rooms."
"They do." She narrowed her eyes. "And they just share all their knowledge with you? Freely? Just like that?"
"Well… yeah." He laughed. "Pansy is under some withering impression that I'll join them one night. Blaise swings both ways."
"Oh." Hermione blinked. "So… if she wants you to join them… does that mean you…?"
"Hmm?" He realized her meaning. "Oh. Oh! No."
"Because, it would be alright if you were-"
"I'm not bisexual, Granger-"
"-But if you were, I wouldn't judge-"
"-I guarantee you, I'm perfectly straight," he said conclusively, adding, "Not that I have a problem with anyone who isn't. Obviously. Blaise is one of my closer friends."
"And he wants to see you in your skivvies," she teased, giggling. She got a daring thought, and laughed full barreled laughs as she said, "He wants to see us both in our skivvies!"
"Or out of them." Draco smirked, trying to hold back the laughter threatening to crack his demeanor. He lost, eventually, and threw his head back, letting the laughs free. "Oh wow. I can't believe we just discussed something like this."
"I know!" Hermione sniggered into the crook of her neck. "Maybe we offer him the voyeur room with us?" At the turn upwards of his brows, she shook her head. "I'm kidding!"
"Oh. Thank Merlin." He pretended to shudder. "I do not need the image of Blaise whacking off to us in my head right now."
Hermione giggled, kissing him on the cheek. "So, does this room work exactly like the room of requirement?"
"It's the same principal, but more limited. -Food, alcohol, those sorts of things don't appear here. But, let's say a couple wanted to watch themselves…" He extended a hand out, and Hermione followed it, to where an antique floor mirror now stood about ten feet away. She caught Draco's heated, smoldering stare in the reflection, as well as the redness on her cheeks. "This room is all about inducing pleasure. Toys aren't limited to vibrators and such. A mirror works just as well." He turned her around, shifting her on his lap so that her legs rested on the outsides of his knees, and he bunched up the skirting of her dress. Hermione blushed at the reflection of herself, fully exposed, having not worn panties this evening to surprise him. Draco smirked in approval and rested one hand on her inner thigh while the other began to knead her covered breast through her dress. "Look at how beautiful you are, pet."
The hand on her thigh moved upwards, and Hermione's head fell back, resting against his shoulder. "Touch me. Please." She'd dreamt of this nearly every night this week, noting they had yet to actually have sex. It made the pressure of their sexual desires that much more desperate for an escape, and the way he was staring back at her in the reflection made her want nothing more than to rip his clothes off to ride him into next weekend.
"Close your eyes," he commanded, and she shut them obediently. "Always so eager to please, pet. I need you to do something for me, Hermione. I need you to focus on my voice. Can you do that, love?"
"Mmmhmm…" She nodded slowly, grinding her hips to entice him to touch her. His hand hovered above her, the heat of his palm radiating over her clit like sunlight. He was so close… if only he'd move just a bit closer…
"Now, think of something you'd like shoved inside that soft," he nibbled her earlobe, "warm," traced the shell of her ear with his tongue, "wet pussy."
"You," she answered immediately, desperation in her voice she hardly recognized. "I want you inside of me."
He chuckled, the warmth of his breath exhaled from his nose tickling her ear. "Of course you do. But this is the toy room, pet. I'm not a toy. You're mine." His fingers came down, lightly swatting her pussy and making her groan in want. "Now, what would you like, besides my cock, inside of you right now?"
Hermione felt her legs quiver as he pressed the heel of his palm against her and rubbed circles over her clitoris. She groaned, bucking forward, and he withdrew his hand away. "No." She groaned, eyes prying back open to meet his stare in the mirror. "Please. Don't stop."
"Then pick something," he said, raising a challenging eyebrow.
Hermione concentrated, but found it useless. Her lust for him, after weeks of waiting, had finally run her patience thin. "I just want you." She turned her face to look at him. "You pick. Just please, don't stop touching me."
Satisfied with her answer, he kissed her on the lips and said, "Are you sure about that?"
"Yes." She nodded. "Please."
Draco nodded once in agreement and shimmied her off of his lap. With graceful poise, he slid down to the floor between her legs, slipped her dress over her head, and smirked at her. He placed his hand out to his side, closed it, and opened it again to reveal a gold clamp, much like the ones he used on her nipples a week ago. But there was only the one, and the way he smirked so challengingly up at her made her forget herself for a moment.
"What's that?"
"You said I could choose whatever toy I wanted," he replied hungrily, "And I promise this will make you feel oh so good, pet."
"What is it?"
"Why so many questions? Don't you trust me?"
She nodded. "Of course."
"Then lean back and close your eyes."
Hermione did as requested, and after a few sensual kisses against her pulsing center that had her gasping his name, she felt a pinch against her clitoris. She yelped, not ready for the sensation, but it was instantly washed away when the clamp against her clit began to vibrate. "Oh… Oh!" Her eyes shot open, and she found him smiling up at her face, biting on his lower lip. "Mmm…" She tried to hold back a moan, but then Draco tapped the clamp with his finger, and the vibration began to pulse. "Ohhhh…. Wow."
"Does my pet approve of her reward?"
"Mhmm… very much."
"Good girl." He tapped it again, and the pulsing changed to one short vibrations followed by two long ones. The pattern repeated over and over, building Hermione up like a house of cards. Draco pushed himself up to his feet, tugged her up to meet him, and walked her a mere two feet away from the mirror. "Touch your tits for me, Hermione." She saw the pleasant gleam in his eyes as they reflected back at her, and she moved her fingers against the nubs of her nipples, eager to please him. "Watch yourself."
Frustrated to take her gaze away from him, but not wanting to break his chain of command, she tore her eyes away from his and stared at her breasts, heaving up and down as she panted from the stimulation of the clit clamp. The slickness between her thighs was prominent, and she felt a gush of fluid trickle down her leg as she caught sight of herself tweaking her nipples between her fingertips. Here, in this moment, playing with herself in front of Draco, she had never felt more aroused. She could only imagine how hard he was, trapped between the confines of his pants. That was, until he pressed himself up against her, leaving barely anything to the imagination. The fabric of his pants felt soothing against her hind end, and she gasped when it contradicted the firmness of his erection.
"Draco," she whispered as he reached around and tapped the clamp again. Now it pulsed in rhythmic beats, short, long, short, short, long, and Hermione felt her knees quake. "Please, Sir. I've been so good tonight."
"You have, pet." He nodded, still refusing to touch her. Hermione, exasperated, released one of her breasts and moved her hand behind her, over his crotch. She watched his lids flutter closed for half a moment, watched the way his tongue darted out across his upper lip.
"Please," she said again, "Fuck me, Draco."
He half-smiled, eyes shrouded in his own lust as he stared at her in the mirror and whispered, "Fuck you, Hermione? Is that what you want?"
"Yes." She released his cock long enough to brush her bum against his tented trousers. "Please, Master. Fuck me. I'm such a good pet. I deserve a reward."
He physically shuddered at her words, and when his eyes snapped back open, his resolve was set. "Indeed, you do." His fingers slid over her ass cheeks, and both of his hands came down at once, smacking her harshly across her bum. Hermione gasped, choking back a scream, and then suddenly, she felt herself being pushed forward, bent over to grasp at the mirror for support. Her hands came out and pressed against the glass, expecting the mirror to move under her weight, but she found it sturdy and unyielding. She didn't have long to think over the physics, because she was aware of the sound of a buckle unclasping, and the shuffle of fabric, and then something warm and firm pressing itself against the lips of her pussy, right at her center. "Is this what you want, Hermione?"
"In me." She panted, looking up at him in the mirror again, spotting the pink along his cheeks. Here, in the reflection, she could see her breasts fully exposed, as was the curve of her behind as Draco stood behind her, positioned to shove in at a moment's notice. She didn't want to think about the repercussions of this act, or the fact that on some cosmic level, this was wrong. All she could think, and say, was, "In me, Master, plea-"
She didn't get the last of the word out, because she found herself lost in the sensation of Draco's cock pushing inside of her, stretching the thick band of muscles that tightened upon his intrusion. She heard him inhale a sharp breath, felt his hands glide across her backside in a display of ownership, saw the way his eyes fell closed and his mouth came open in bliss. Pride swelled within her that she could make him react in such a way, and in that moment, she felt invincible.
"Herm…ione…" He gasped as he withdrew himself to the head of his cock, his eyes finding themselves back open to find her staring at him with a smile. He met it with one of his own smirks before grasping her hips and thrusting into her, eliciting a string of obscenities. "So fucking tight," he groaned, moving slowly in and out of her. Hermione closed her eyes and allowed herself to feel, in the moment, the sensations brought about by all of the sexual tension they'd procured actually going somewhere. Even when his hand came down and smacked her harshly on the ass, she did not relent in simply being. Her mind did not wander. It stayed firmly put, rooted in the way he fit so perfectly inside of her, at how each thrust hit in just the right way to make her tits bounce, at how her breathing grew more shallow, her sighs louder, her entire body lost in the euphoric notion that was Draco Malfoy.
"Mmm…" She heard her voice, but didn't recognize it. It sounded so lustful, so confident. "Harder, Master. Please."
He chuckled, grabbing at her pelvic bones and finding a good grip before he began to slowly piston in and out of her, the clit clamp adding to the sensation as he built a steady rhythm. Harder and harder he rocked inside of her, occasionally reaching around and tapping the clamp to change the speed, denying her the release she desperately craved again and again. Each time he felt her tighten around him, about to lose it, he would change it up, leaving her frustrated and worn. Soon, her panting turned to groans and sighs of wanton sexual determination.
"Who does this pussy belong to, Hermione?" he asked her, slowing down to grind himself into her at just the right angle to hit her g-spot.
She screamed in pleasure before replying, "You, Draco."
He repeated the motion, and again, received a scream from her. "Damn straight it does." One of his hands rested at the base of her spine, and his thumb brushed against the rim of her puckered asshole. "And this ass. You'd let me fuck this ass, wouldn't you?"
She was surprised to hear herself shouting, "Yes, Draco! Whatever you want. It's yours!"
"You're mine." He pressed his thumb against her, not inside, but enough to get her attention. Her hips were rocked back and forth with his thrusting, moving her ass against his hand and thus creating a steady on and off pressure there too that had her groaning in desperation for more. "What I want is you. All of you."
"You have me," she cried out, so close to the brink. "God, I'm… I'm gonna…"
"Are you going to come for me, Hermione? Are you going to be a good little pet and come for your Master?"
"Yes, Sir!"
"Tell me who this pussy belongs to."
"It b-belongs to you! This pussy belongs to you! My pussy! Ah! My ass! OH! My mouth, my tits, my body…!"
She opened her eyes, surprised to see him so serious in his expression as he met her eyes in the mirror. "What about that mind, Hermione?" He shoved into her particularly rough, making her shout something between 'fuck' and 'mmgod'. "Does that mind belong to me? Do you think about me when we're apart?"
"Ah! Oh God. All the time!"
His movements stopped for a moment, and he stroked down her back affectionately. "My good little princess." And then he was at it again, pistoning in and out of her with force and speed that forced her to scream over and over again. His praise, along with the sensation of the clamp and the way his cock hit inside of her forced her to come undone, and with a scream of his name, she came. So lost in her own orgasm, it took her a moment to realize he had been sent over the edge right along with her. His hips slowed, but he still had a few thrusts left in him as he filled her up with his cum, until he was spent. Then, all movement ceased while the two of them stared at each other in the mirror, panting and out of breath, and, above all else, lost in each other's eyes.
Finally, after what seemed of an eternity, Draco whispered, "Good girl." He withdrew himself, carefully considerate of her sensitivity, and grabbed her around the middle, pulling her upright. There, they watched the reflected version of Hermione as his warm cum trickled down her leg. "So beautiful…"
Hermione blushed scarlet, but he didn't allow her the luxury of hiding her face, instead tugging her over to the sofa and pulling her on top of him, cradling her within his arms. Though he was still, basically, dressed in his clothes, he carried a sense of defenselessness with him that she hadn't seen before, even as he removed her clit clamp, turned it off, and tossed it to the floor.
"Did you enjoy that?" he asked, kissing her on the nose.
Hermione nodded, coming down from her high. "I loved it. I have to say, I've…" She chewed on her lower lip, forcing herself to be brave. "I've never come that way before. Being bent over like that."
"Better get used to it, then." He winked at her. "I always aim to please." He leaned down and kissed her sensually before pulling away to stare into her eyes.
Her mind began to work once again, and questions emerged that would have been asked had she not been so preoccupied with the thought of getting banged silly by Draco Malfoy. "Can I ask you a question?"
"I believe you just did."
She stuck her tongue out at him. "You know what I meant. -Are Blaise and Pansy's spouses comfortable with them… being together… all the time? Or do they know?"
"I would hope so," Draco chuckled, "They're married to each other, after all."
It was Hermione's turn to raise some eyebrows, and she sat up in his lap, gasping. "No!"
"Yes."
"But -why wear the masks, then?"
"Because they're married. Just because they like to fool around with each other doesn't mean they want to hide their relationship from others. Remember what I said about them loving an audience? Blaise told me it gets Pansy off when they're assumed to be having an affair."
Hermione soaked in his words, filtering through her moral compass and finding the idea quite romantic, in all honesty. "Hmm." She pressed her lips together, thinking. "That's… that's adorable, in some twisted way.- But they still swing, I take it? Or they wouldn't keep trying to get us in bed."
"They like to share others with each other. They wouldn't get involved with someone else without the other one."
"Interesting."
"Is it?" Draco sighed. "I find the entire thing rather blasé."
"Says the man who sleeps around on his wife with… me." Her voice grew quiet, and she averted her eyes momentarily to stare at the fireside. The flames licked at the air like snake tongues; a very fitting idea, indeed, considering she felt much more like a belly-slithering snake with each passing moment in this room with Draco (a married man.) What if Ron had come here during their marriage? She shuddered at the thought.
"Granger." She felt his fingers touch her cheek to guide her face back towards him. When their eyes met, an electric pulse of magic rippled through both of them. Hermione thought she imagined it for a moment, but she saw the skin on the back of his arm stand on end and realized it was real. "Don't assume to know me."
She sighed. "Why not?"
His thumb pad brushed along her cheekbone. "There's a reason I don't come to this floor with anyone else." He sat up straighter, bringing his face closer to hers. "You have no idea how excited I was when you fell into my lap three weekends ago."
Hermione felt vulnerable, but, also, highly in control at that moment. He'd said as much last weekend that he'd found her attractive since they were teens, so his small confession didn't surprise her in the least. What did surprise her, however, was the emotion it stirred within her chest; something between elation and adoration. It swelled inside of her till she felt as if might burst- and it did the moment she remembered his wife. She reached up to his hand -the one on her cheek, and pried it between them, staring at it. Draco looked confused.
"The X won't light up, Hermione. You know that."
"No." She shook her head, staring at his ring finger in perplexity. "You… you're not wearing a ring."
"No." He shook his head. "I'm not."
"But… you're married." Her eyes jerked up to his. "Aren't you?"
"Am I?" His eyes liquefied her insides with their cunning amusement.
"You said… you said you were."
"I did."
"But you're not?"
"Just confuses the Hell out of you, doesn't it?"
She released his hand, slowly, and let her own hands slip into her lap. Her voice was controlled, yet full of fury. "Explain. Now."
He scratched the tip of his nose, slipped a hand down over both of hers, and said, "Alright, pet. Alright." He leaned in to kiss her cheek, but she pulled away, and he ceased his movements, drawing his face back. "By all accounts, the press still thinks I'm a married man." She didn't respond, too afraid to ask questions, so he continued. "Malfoys don't divorce, you know. It simply isn't done. But my wife –my ex-wife," he corrected, "Is as frigid as they come. Brought up with pureblood ideologies, and yet forgiving of muggle culture. A walking conundrum one would think would allow her to have an open mind about most things."
"You mean things like what happens in Bond."
"Look at that. Such a smart cookie." He tapped her forehead with his index finger, smirking. "Anyway, she tried to make it work, for a while. I loved her -she didn't love me." He shrugged, though his expression was hurt. "Eventually, we decided to call it quits. But as I've told you, Malfoys don't divorce. Such an ugly word, isn't it? Divorce?"
Hermione nodded solemnly. Yes, she knew all about that terrible word and just how horrible it could be.
"So, to the outside world, we both are still a loving, charitable couple."
"And in reality?" Hermione's heart sped quickly inside of her chest as it struggled to pump blood, which insisted on draining from her face.
"Reality says we signed the papers three months ago." He slid his hand up her arm, her shoulder, her neck, resting it just under her jaw. "We both agreed to keep it between us, for now. She isn't ready to part with my fortune, and I need her ties with investors -for the moment." His eyes swept over her face. "But when I'm here, with you, I forget about all of that."
"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" she replied, colder than intended.
His face broke out into one of careful consideration. "Does it not?"
"You lied to me." She bore her eyes into his. "Why?"
"Don't look at it as a lie. More of… an omission of truth."
"A very Slytherin answer." She pulled up out of his arms and retrieved her dress, slipping it back on.
"Where are you going?"
"Home."
"Why?" His voice was lulled, though it carried a hint of stress.
"I need… to process this." She searched around for her heels, which she had left by the door. She padded her way to them, slipped them on, and went back to the mirror to check her hair. Draco stood, tucking himself back into his pants before he approached her.
"But you're coming back, right?"
She turned to him, muddled with a variety of emotions, ranging from betrayed, to relief, to hurt. "Do you know what's been going through my mind since the night we found each other here, Draco Malfoy? I've been reprimanding myself for lusting over a married man. A married man." She pushed against his chest with her hands, though there was hardly any effort to it. "And to think you've been toying with my head -to what? Get some rise out of me?"
"Hey." His voice commanded her attention. "That's insulting."
"You know what's insulting? Being lied to."
"I wasn't lying, Hermione. Not really." He appeared sorry, but he stood stiff like a statue, that arrogant Malfoy ego shimmering over him like a heat wave. "I did what I did to protect you- and me."
"Protect me?" She laughed. "From what?"
"From me!" He threw his hands up into the air. "From my bloody infatuation with you! Has it not been evident, from the moment our paths crossed this time around, that I've felt a little more than lust towards you?"
She felt her heart tighten in her chest, and she let the fear take her. Quietly, she replied, "You could have just been open with me. I would have understood."
"Would you? Would you have, really?" he sneered, crossing his arms. "Look at your reaction now."
"I'm reacting this way because you 'omitted the truth' from me. Not because you're a divorcee." She rolled her eyes. "Unless you've forgotten, I've been on that train longer than you have. Believe me, I understand the way people, especially the wizarding community, judge you based off of calling it quits. Practically insulting in every way." Her voice softened. "But, I suppose, I have to give you credit for telling me, in any case." She allowed herself to crack a smile. "Your secret's safe with me, Malfoy."
He smiled timidly, uncrossing his arms. "Draco," he corrected her. "-Will you come again?"
She tapped her finger to her chin, pretending to overthink the situation. "Well… I suppose we still have two more rooms, yes? It would be a shame to give up now." She extended her hand and offered it out to him. Draco quirked an eyebrow, stunned, and, slowly, took it.
"Next Friday?"
She kissed him on the cheek. "Next Friday sounds… wonderful. -But you have to do something for me."
"What's that?"
"You have to touch yourself," she whispered into his ear, "In the shower. When you're alone in your bed. I want you to touch yourself to the thought of me. Can you do that for me, Draco?"
He smirked. "Already do, pet. Already do."
"Draco Malfoy; a divorcee!" Luna smiled thoughtfully, putting the finishing touches on her newly embellished radish earrings she'd been working on nearly the entire morning Hermione had arrived at her door. "Well, that's news, isn't it?"
"But you knew that," Hermione frowned, setting her teacup down onto the coffee table in front of her.
"I knew he had a warmer aura about him, but I had no idea about his divorce," Luna shook her head.
Hermione gasped. "No. But… but you said… you said he had a secret… wasn't that…?"
"Oh. That?" Luna shook her head. "No, Hermione. That wasn't it." She held her radish earrings up to her ears. "What do you think? Do you think the periwinks will be drawn to them?"
"The peri-what?- No, Luna. Focus. If that's not his secret, then what is it?"
Luna grinned ear to ear as she fashioned the earrings on her earlobes. "I've told you. It isn't my place to say. Guess you'll just have to keep seeing him until he either tells you, or you figure it out."
Hermione buried her face into a sofa throw pillow, tempted to scream.
