All mistakes are my own - and if I could rate this higher than M, I would. I can't wait to hear what you think!
Chapter Five
She waited for Daphne to leave before opening the message from Draco that contained Tom Riddle's phone number. She had only met the man once inside of the Shrieking Shack, and it had been while she sauntered off the center stage that he complimented her.
Riddle was a tall man, perhaps an inch more so than Malfoy, with dark brown hair that she thought would be soft to run her fingers through. And while he always looked pleasant, and he shamelessly flirted if he thought it would earn him a way in, Hermione could never shake the uneasy feeling of his eyes settling on her. Deep, and fathomless, that was where is attractiveness ended - they were brown, but the only description she could drum up was charcoal.
Nearly black, and she almost balked when she remembered the slimy feeling that slid over her skin whenever she thought of meeting him again. It wouldn't take long, Hermione reminded herself. She was brave enough, and she would be certain to arrange the drop off in a public place. What she was most worried about, was whether he would take the money.
He would benefit from Draco paying it out at the ridiculously high interest he'd demanded, but considering Riddle had first asked for the entire sum back at once, she would hedge her bets that he would take money.
Hermione took a seat on her couch, tucking her bare legs beneath her, and brought the phone to her ear. One ring, two rings, and then on the fifth - just when she thought he would ignore the unknown caller-, a velvety voice sounded in her ear. "Hello?" The low, raspy drawl reminded her immediately of Malfoy, and of the previous night. "Hello?"
"Hi, this is Hermione Granger; I work as a dancer at the Shrieking Shack. We met briefly once, but whether you remember me isn't all that important." Her heart thudded in her chest as she heard a quiet chuckle, and in the background she could hear him telling whoever was with him to leave him in private. "If you're not awfully busy, I'd like to discuss something with you."
"I remember you." There was the sound of ice sliding against the edge of what she imagined was a frosted tumbler as he tipped it to his lips. "You're the dancer that attended university with the younger Malfoy, correct?"
She faltered, her toes curling. "I'm one of them yes. Daphne was the other -"
"Ah," he said softly. "The eldest Greengrass. I know her family rather well - her father is a prick. No, you're the one whom he has feelings," Tom sneered the word, "for. Did you know that Rabastan made the comment of how he'd like to fuck your tits and Malfoy broke his nose?"
It sounded strangely familiar to what Daph had been telling her of Goyle. "No, I didn't know that. I didn't call you to discuss emotions though." Stay on task, Granger.
"No? I can't imagine what you would be calling me for."
She blurted, "I know that Draco owes you fifty thousand pounds."
Her heart seemed to stop beating as he sucked in a sharp breath. "Yes, well, I'm not sure how beneficial it is for him to tell his strippers he's in hot water, but I suppose it's not my decision how he runs his club. Have you called me to plead with me to forget about it? I assure you that will not be happening."
Hermione shook her head to the empty room. "Not at all. In fact," she bit her lip. "I'd like to pay you the balance in full, Riddle. Would that be something you'd be interested in?"
"Fifty thousand pounds is an awful lot of money, Miss Granger. Are you sure you'd want to waste that on your boss? Surely that would be better spent to fund your education. How are your night classes?"
"How do you,"
"We've only spoken once, but I've seen you at the counter half a dozen times studying for exams with your tits out. A pretty picture, indeed."
"I want to pay off his loan."
He sighed. "It doesn't particularly matter to me who pays me my money, Miss Granger. Though I have to ask, does he know you've called me?"
"No," she murmured. "I stole your number from his phone last night, and I'd rather you didn't tell him at all. I'll deal with it when the time comes. Could you meet me in the next half hour? I have a class, but I can meet you before. I've already withdrawn the money."
Tom Riddle's agreement was too easy to earn, and for that she was grateful. It was Malfoy's defensive reaction she worried about.
Two weeks passed without Draco learning that he was no longer indebted to Riddle, and in those three weeks, he didn't touch her once. Beyond asking her for a pen, he didn't steal any moments like she expected him to. Fuck, like she wanted him to.
Hermione had nagged him - his word choice - until he caved, and let her begin to sort through the club's records, and file them electronically. The massive influx of transactions as they neared Christmas didn't help as she spent her time scanning receipts into his officer computers until the sun rose. Draco sat across from her, with him on the opposite side of his desk this time, while Hermione crossed her legs in his leather chair, and typed furiously.
"Should have started on this years ago," she grumbled to herself, picking up the cup of tea he'd just brought her. "What the fuck was your father thinking by storing everything in paper? Draco, this is absurd."
He snorted, propping his feet up on the edge of the desk. "He hates technology, Granger, utterly loathes it. I never saw the need for it - why are you looking at the screen like that?"
She shook her head slowly, setting her ceramic cup down so quickly it sloshed onto his Italian shoes. Hermione pressed the button again to run the numbers, but it came back with the same exact result, and the staggering number encases in parentheses made her stomach do a summersault. "Draco, at what point did you take that loan from Riddle?"
"What do you mean?"
"In what month did you not have any other option? You mentioned how you were funding the club out of pocket, but," Hermione looked to him, her eyebrows drawn together in worry.
"It must have been around October last year that I took the loan, and I had been struggling since mid July." Draco told her. "Why?"
Hermione chewed her bottom lip anxiously, clicking the button one last time. Maybe it was a mistake. Surely this couldn't have - "Someone is stealing money from the Shrieking Shack." She told him quietly. "It's been happening systematically since the beginning of June."
"What?" He yelled, standing from his chair, and coming to grip the back of hers while he leaned forward. His tie tangled down as he did so, and he glared at the screen. "I don't know what the fuck I'm looking at; care to explain?"
She nodded, dragging her finger along the computer screen while scrolling over. "It looks as if they started small, taking different amounts, small amounts at different times, and into October, you can see the trend when it starts to cripple your profit. I just don't understand how you didn't see this, even without electronic logging."
"Whoever it is has been falsifying deposits," Draco growled, his hand settling over hers as he guided the mouse. "This is fucking shitty."
Hermione sighed, nodding once more. "I'm sure I can figure out who it was. It's as simple as looking at the nights it happened, and cross referencing with who worked those nights. Draco?" She peered up at him, only to find him staring down at her, his jaw clenching tightly. "It will be okay."
"I need a drink," he muttered, and Hermione found herself scrambling out of her seat to follow him down the corridor and out to the bar. "Here," he told her, passing her a bottle of wine and a corkscrew. He grabbed a bottle of scotch from under the counter and didn't bother with a glass.
She pulled the cork from her bottle in silence, crossing one leg over the other. "You won't be able to drive home,"
He shook his head. "Have you looked outside? It's a goddamn blizzard out there. I doubt we will be leaving here for hours, so we might as well enjoy ourselves."
It was as good a moment as any to come clean that she'd met the infamous Tom Riddle in a quiet coffee shop around the corner from her house, and handed him an actual briefcase full of money. Sipping her wine though, Hermione didn't bother. He was already angry enough as it was, and she didn't care to argue about how she had gotten involved. "Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?" Hermione asked, grasping the neck of her bottle.
Malfoy's head snapped up, and she couldn't hold back the shiver as his eyes settled on her. "Seems like a dangerous question to ask me, Hermione. I think you know fully well what I want. Don't you?"
She looked at him, her tongue sliding against her bottom lip. Like hell he was going to rattle her as he rolled up his crisp sleeves and leaned against the bad. Malfoy's smirks were one thing, but she was ultimately used to them. When he smiled though, like the feisty grin that spread over her face - Hermione was glad she was sitting down, glad he couldn't see the way she pressed her fingers against herself through her yoga pants, aching for relief.
Hermione played off her nerves, and pretended she didn't want to crawl across this counter, and lead him to her by his loose tie. Arching an eyebrow, she murmured from behind her bottle of wine. "I'm not sure, but I'd imagine what you want right now is to know who's been robbing you blind so you could take of them yourself."
He snorted. "What a ruthless thing to say. And you were worried about Tom Riddle beating me bloody?"
She didn't miss a beat. "No," she exhaled. "I was worried he would murder you, and I would have to put assert myself in the criminal underground to get revenge." Hermione said dryly, smirking at his bewildered expression.
"You? Worm your way into the criminal activities of London? Not bloody likely."
"What?" Hermione grumbled. "Like it's hard?" There was no holding back her smile when he laughed. "Was there something you wanted?" It was a barely there whisper, "Draco,"
He took a long drink, and she knew it must have been burning a path down his throat. A droplet slid over his chin, and down his neck. "Three weeks, Granger, and you haven't said a word about it."
Well, it didn't take a genius to know what he was referencing. She cleared her throat. "To be honest, I'm still shocked that it happened. It hardly felt real when you were so cold to me the next time you saw me. What would you have rather I done? I'm not going to come crawling to you, Malfoy."
"I suppose it was too much to hope that you'd come to your senses." He muttered, pouring another glass. "As delightful as the image of your crawling to me is," her breath caught. "I can make myself clear, Hermione."
She immediately shook her head. "That's a terrible idea, really. I'm your employee, and your friend, and -"
"And the woman I've hopelessly fallen for, and you don't spare me a second glance." Draco sighed. "Hermione, it's not my intention to make trap you into any sort of relationship with me by guilt, but that's what I want."
Her heart was pounding painfully in her chest. "Draco..," at his crestfallen expression, she hurried to add "I wish the circumstances were different. There's no point in denying how our relationship had changed. However, I think you only want me because I do tell you no. If I were yours, you would see that this lust filled infatuation would pass."
Draco dropped - she was certain he'd done it on purpose - his glass, and it splintered against the floor. "You're such an idiot."
She bristled, sipping her wine. "We shouldn't argue; we're going to be trapped her for hours yet to come, and I'd rather not fight with you about this."
"You asked me what I wanted."
"I remember. I was there," a wry smile caused her lips to quirk up. "What do you want, Malfoy. And so help me God, if you say you want me,"
"I want you on that stage while I sit in front of you." Draco told her, snatching another glass from under the bar. "Truth be told, I'm sick of watching men discuss exactly what position they would put you in to stretch your tight holes. Did you know one man tonight said he wanted you under him?"
Her eyes were wide. "No," she replied meekly.
Draco nodded, leaning on his forearms that rested on the counter. "It took a tremendous amount of self control to not bash his head in, or to tell him that you don't like missionary. No, you enjoy the passion, the bruises left on you the next morning -"
"Draco," she whispered, heat rushing between her legs. "Have a seat then."
He moved without being told twice, slightly swaying from the liquor. Hermione turned the music on, and then she turned the dial to the left. With the soft music playing overhead, she kicked her trainers off, and pushed her pants down from where they were bunched around her waist before tugging her shirt over her head.
Her heart beating wildly in her chest, she told herself that she did this every night she worked, but as she wrapped her fingers around the slick, metal pole, Hermione knew that wasn't completely true. Of course she knew that Draco watched her, eyeing her up and down as she worked, but now it was just him. And there was absolutely nothing stopping her from straddling his waist, and letting him tug on the flimsy string of her top.
The black bra barely covered anything, and spinning around the pole, and then flipping herself upside down, she undid the knot herself. "Look at me, Hermione." His voice was low, and he was smirking behind his glass.
Her lips parted as she took him in as he watched her dance for him. WIth each sway of her lips, Hermione believed more and more that he was going to pull her right of the stage, bend her over the edge, and fuck her. Hermione padded to the edge of the stage, crouching down, and slipping off of it. His eyes widened as he rested his arms on the back of the chairs on either side of him. Tilting her head to the side with a small grin, Hermione pushed her knickers down her legs, and straddled his waist.
"Draco," she murmured, running her fingers through her hair, and grinding her hips against his.
His hands came to grip her waist tightly, pressing her against the obvious bulge in his trousers. "Give me one night, Granger." His tongue slid against her hardened nipple, and a plea nearly fell from her lips. His hand slid between them, one finger sliding against her slick folds.
"It could never be one night," she muttered, sliding her arms around his neck as his fingers moved against her clit. "I think it's a massive mistake, but,"
Draco turned his head, capturing her lips with his own, and taking het weak whimpers for himself. "It's not a bloody mistake," he growled, lifting her by wrapping one arm around her waist tightly. As two fingers slid inside of her, Hermione clung to him, pressing her lips to the skin of his neck, and biting where his shoulder met his neck. "So fucking rough,"
Her resolve was crumbling, and her reasons, so maybe they were weak, were slipping farther and farther from her her with each thrust of his fingers. 'One night," she gasped. Even though she was right. One night would turn into more, but with them being so close, she just didn't fucking care.
And then he pulled away from her, smirking. "No."
"No?" Hermione whined softly.
His fingers rested against her lips, and her tongue darted out, taking them into her mouth. "You might have caved, but this wasn't what you wanted." He shrugged.
Her mouth fell open. "You're choosing now to be noble about it?"
Draco's fingers trailed down her sides, his fingertips brushing against the sides of her breasts. "I'm deciding that I'm not going to fuck you." Taking her by surprise, he gripped her hair tightly in his finger, leaning forward, and sliding his tongue against her nipple.
Hermione whimpered, tugging on his hair, and arching her back to press herself closer to him. "Oh, fuck," she moaned, parting her legs and lifting herself up as he thrust two fingers inside of her. "Oh, my God." She had no objections to admitting what she liked, sexual, or not, but Draco knew every single thing she liked.
And he bloody well knew that fingering her so roughly was going to have her trembling in his lap in minutes. "Do you want me to fuck you, Hermione?" He rasped, his thumb pressing against her clit as his fingers curled inside of her, dragging a broken moan from her. "Do you want me to put your legs over my shoulders, and hold you up while I fuck your tight cunt?"
"Yes." She was begging, but so fucking what. "Don't you want to do just that? You're torturing both of us -"
He grinned, biting down on her hardened nipple softly. "Make no mistake, I will fuck you, and it may not be tonight, but you're going to be the one to come to me, little girl."
Hermione's eyes fluttered shut as he picked her up, placing her in the chair. As she opened one eye to peer down at him, she found him kneeling in front of her, gripping her ankles in each hand, and draping her legs over either side of the chair. "But I want you now, Daddy."
There was something in the way his eyes darkened that made her wary to test him when she called him that. "You want me because you're horny," she opened her mouth to object, but he raised his hand. "I'm not angry about that, but I'll fill you with my cock when you've made a decision while clear headed, not while you're begging for me like a dirty slut."
A whimper slipped between her teeth. "Then what's the point of this? If I can't have you, then -"
"No, you can't have me, but I want to do whatever I want to you." The sight of him on his knees in front of her, asking if he could have his way with her, made her delirious. Hermione knew that even when he was the dominant one, that really it was her who held the power over him. He wouldn't do a fucking thing if she didn't agree.
"You'd have to be more clear on what you want to do to me." She whispered, her hand sliding down her chest, and her fingers slipping through her folds. "What do you want to do to me, Daddy?"
"I want to make sure you're a fucking wreck by the time I'm done with you." He murmured, kissing up the skin of her calf. "I want to taste you while you come, while you're writhing against my tongue, but first I'll get you there, and then I'll stop until you're begging for me to let you have what you want."
Hermione nodded, her fingers digging into the arm rests.
He teased her, the tip of his tongue sliding against her clit, and he slowly, God, so fucking slowly, slid two fingers inside of her dripping cunt. Moan after moan fell away from her, and she attempted to move closer to him, and she was already on the edge of begging.
And every other fucking word was Daddy, and she was going to sob if he kept moving his tongue against her so slowly. "Oh, fuck, please." She muttered, her head falling back. "Let me come. Daddy, fucking please."
She didn't have to look at him to know that he was smirking when he said it. "You have ten seconds." His voice was low, and at first she didn't understand, but then -
He was rough with her, fingering her harder while her legs trembled, and his tongue rolling against her clit. Hermione screamed, her nails cutting through the fabric covering the arm rests, and she was teetering on the edge of her orgasm when he pulled away from her. His fingers returned to their slow rhythm. "I told you that you only had ten seconds."
She gasped, taking one look at him, and moving too quickly for him to stop her. Hermione slid off of the seat, lunging towards him, and tackling him on the floor of the club. "Fucking bastard," she muttered before kissing him roughly. "I want you so badly, to fuck me right here so it's all I think of when I'm on that stage dancing."
He cupped her neck, his tongue tracing the seam of her bottom lip as he rolled her onto her back, and he braced his palm flat against the hard floor. "I don't think you'll be able to think of anything else but this moment." He murmured. "Even if you do give men lap dances, which I'm fucking sure you only do to infuriate me, you won't be able to think of anything but the time you did it for me."
Hermione moaned, wrapping her legs around his waist as he bit down in the most sensitive spot of her neck, and it was sure to leave a mark. "Make sure that leaves a mark." She pleaded. "I want to see it there tomorrow - fuck!" She hissed when he grabbed her hair, and pulled her head back to expose her neck fully. "Maybe to make it fair - I mean, if I have to think of this everytime I work, you should have to do the same."
"You think I won't be?" He chuckled, pinching her nipple.
"I think you should make me come in your office so I know you will be." She replied, reaching down to cup his erection through his trousers. "Could sit me on your desk while you eat my cunt. Or," he cut her off by kissing her, still rolling her nipple between his fingers.
"Or what?" He asked breathlessly when he pulled away from her, already standing to his feet, and offering her his hand.
"Could I suck your cock, Daddy?" Her grin was anything but innocent, and his eyes narrowed.
Draco picked her up, wrapping her legs around him once more, and his fingers gripping her arse. "I won't be gentle. I'll fuck your throat for how many times you've teased me."
She batted her eyelashes. "Please?"
"Dirty fucking little girl," he growled.
He carried her towards the back office, stopping to slam her against the wall. The frames on the wall fell, shattering, and he just kissed her, taking his time, and sneaking his hand between them to finger her until she was nearly sobbing for relief. He told her that he would get there, eventually. Once inside his office, after punching in the code angrily, which was still her bloody birthday, he set Hermione on her feet.
She watched as he slid everything off of his desk, muttering that he'd have Goyle pick it up later that day. Hermione would have sat on his desk herself, but he stopped her. "No," he told her, unbuttoning his trousers. "I want you to lay on your back, Hermione, with your head hanging over the side."
Her mouth was dry as she nodded, sitting on the edge and turning to where he wanted her. "Like this?" She said weakly. He nodded, his hands sliding over her breasts.
"You could say no,"
"Fuck that." She snapped, reaching for the edge of his boxers, tugging them down, and taking his thick cock into her hand. "I want to feel this in my throat, Daddy."
He moved towards her, and as her lips parted, let her take his cock at her own speed first. Hermione rolled her tongue against his length, and when the tip hit the back of her throat, he groaned. He gripped the edge of his desk, his hips moving forward. Hermione's hand fell away as he held her head up at the base of her neck.
"I want you to play with yourself." He growled, beginning to fuck her mouth. "I want to watch you strain to finger your dripping cunt as well as I do, and I want you to come over your fucking fingers while you suck my cock."
Her moan was muffled as she brought her legs up, placing her feet flat against the surface of his desk, and she rubbed her clit. Her folds were slick beneath her fingers, and her eyes closed as she sucked his cock, her tongue moving against it, and her cheeks hollowing out when she sucked the tip.
His hands moved over her breasts, and then one of them moved to her throat, and he hesitated. Positioned as she was, it was hard to nod, but Hermione managed a barely there nod. She gasped around him as his fingers tightened on her throat, choking her.
Hermione's fingers moved faster, desperately, against her clit. "Will you come for me? I don't think you could wait long." He said above her, his grip loosening enough for her breath for ten seconds before they were against her throat once more. "I can't." He admitted to her, and she wanted to ask for him to be rougher.
She hadn't particuarly liked rough, dominant sex until she'd fucked him university, and until she'd fucked him again with her best friend. But the feeling of him controlling her breathing made her delirious. "I'm going to come in your mouth, Hermione." He told her quietly, but his voice was unwavering. "But you won't complain, because you want to be my good little girl. You would love to be my filthy fucking cumslut. Let me see you come for me, little girl."
It was his words, that had her coming right then, with her legs trembling, and her mouth opened wider in a quiet scream as he fucked her throat. As Draco came in her mouth, and as she continued to rub her clit, still rocking from the pleasure, his fingers tightened around her throat rougher than they had been.
And she wasn't sure if she'd just had two orgasms, or if it was just the best one of her life, but she wasn't done. Hermione sat on her knees, still on top of his desk, after he'd pulled away. Opening her mouth, she showed him a glimpse of his come on her tongue before swallowing. "I still don't regret it."
"When I fuck you, I'm going to fuck you until you're begging for me to stop." He growled.