Her tongue was dry and cloven to her palate; Hermione stripped from her clothes. Her head swam as she crawled after him, awkward and shy as her knees and palms burned on the rug, then encountered hard, cold floor before falling onto the thicker, softer cushioning of plush carpet.

She dared not look around the room, instead focusing on the gleaming black boots now in her sight, long legs in black trousers. She could tell his robes were gone, but did not look up to see his shirtsleeves, to see him. Instead she knelt and tried to smooth the ragged edges of her breath.

Starched material brushed her cheek as the man turned toward her; bare fingers tilted her chin upward and her eyes obediently followed. His sleeves were rolled up, she noted absently, gaze trailing to a sliver of chest and up past the numbering she could just make out on his throat, the silver shadow of stubble on his cheeks. His eyes were swallowed up in black that reflected all the dark things unspoken between them and it stole the breath she'd tried so desperately to smooth.

A thumb as heavy as her soul skimmed her lower lip. "Good girl." The purred praise eased her burden, narrowed her world down to him. "Look at you, perfectly obedient and awaiting my commands. I'd always heard you were an insufferable know-it-all, but you were just waiting for someone to guide you, weren't you, pet?"

"Yes, sir." Her words were a breath against his warm skin.

"Stand up. That's a good girl. Wrists together, over your head." She hastened to obey, finding herself hoisted by a rope around her tender wrists and on tiptoes. It was reminiscent of her position in the dungeons and the reminder lanced hot panic through her.

It was complimented by a twist at one tender nipple and Hermione pulled herself from the deep dive that was memory, back to present. Lucius Malfoy was circling her, prurient fingers darting out to number her ribs, palm her arse, trace her collarbone.

"I like to inspect my property." His crisp voice cut through the sensations his hands were drawing over her body. "You've filled out quite well since I last had you like this." He slipped behind her, large hands engulfing her breasts as his hot breath tangled in her ear. "Still such a little thing. Soft skin. Pert breasts. I wonder if I could devour one completely, hm? A sweet little mouthful of tit." She shuddered as clever fingers massaged into her chest before they slid down her ribs, waist, hips, around to flatten against her backside. "And this is a delicious arse. Do you know how I dreamt of this when I had you strung up in my dungeon? It was a cruel temptation to see you, have you, and not be able to touch all this pretty flesh. I dreamt of caning it until you cried, wondered how your arse would jiggle with each impact. And when you came to me? When I laid my hands on this lovely arse, I nearly came in my trousers like a schoolboy."

Hermione's legs shook as those large hands dove over her stomach and to her core, dipping into the gathered slick.

"Very good. Outstanding, even. This is precisely how I like my little girls." Two fingers hooked into her and she whimpered. "Wet and bound for my pleasure."

She felt like a puppet as he played her with his burning hand, her knees weak so she leaned into his touch. She could feel him at her back, his shirt and trousers soft against naked flesh, his body a wall to prop her against.

"Yes, just like this, such a good little slut. Look how much you want it. You're dripping all over my boots. I should make you get down and lick them clean."

Her stomach clenched almost painfully, her core tightening on his fingers. Whether it was his words or his voice, the hum in her ears was winding her tighter so that her toes curled and her head lolled.

And then it stopped. He removed his hand, the motion squelching to flood her crimson again. He brought them up and past her, sucking them noisily. "Delicious." She whimpered as wet fingers skimmed her nipples. "What's wrong, pet? Did you want to come?" Hermione nodded, drawing a chuckle from the pale wizard. "Oh, but this is about my pleasure, pet. And there are so many games I wish to play with you."

Hermione worried at her bottom lip, staring hopelessly at the man leaning over her. He was smirking, nuzzling his sandpaper rough cheek against her to plant a kiss on her temple.

"Now, let's get you ready, hm?" A breeze filled the vacuum where his heat had been as Lucius rounded her again. "Brace yourself." That was her only warning as her lower body jerked up, parallel to her shoulders. Her calves dangled from invisible bonds, her head rolling back to gaze at the baseboard. "Muuuuch better." His hand skimmed the concavity of her stomach to nudge her knees apart, his magic tingling across her as it acquiesced. "A little lower, I think."

Her heart turned as she dropped closer to the floor; when Lucius circled back around, she realized she was level with his hips. "There." His fingers trailed to her core, slipped inside of her. "Does that feel good?"

The banked heat from before flared again and she swirled her hips against him.

It sparked painfully hot when his fingers disappeared and his palm came down against her vulva. They pumped inside of her again just long enough to set a fine tremble across her body, then another electric slap fell on her. Over and over until she was nearly crying, skin so hot the brush of his fingertips sent her whipping her curls across her face.

"What's wrong, little girl? Does this hurt? Is pleasing me too difficult for the little mudblood?"His words were punctuated by a series of blows uninterrupted by pleasure, but the pain was somehow feeding into the fire and her body arching into it.

She shook her head, tears leaking uncomfortably toward her brows. "No, no, no."

"Are you sure?" he sneered up the line of her body. "You seem to be struggling to contain yourself. Your little cunt is dripping despite your tears. Could you come from this, mudblood? Oh, I think you could." She couldn't; it was too much, purple-white flashing behind her closed lids. "Don't you dare come, girl. Do you understand?"

"I won't," she promised, "I won't."

He sneered again at her words, continuing his assault, and Hermione writhed mindlessly. "I will punish you if you do." More denials flooded from her lips in rote recitation. "We'll see." And then the silk of his hair tickled over her thighs and wet heat strummed her clit, sending her over the edge.

Her body strained against invisible bonds, fingers longing to tangle in his hair, toes pointing and incoherent murmurs falling from her tongue. As the orgasm trailed, his fingers screwed into her and milked her body for pleasure until she was quaking.

"You sorry little slut." His fingers kept pumping as he rounded her, pressing his erection against her face. "Can't contain yourself, can you?" His other hand deftly opened his trousers and pulled out his cock. "Open, mudblood. Time to show me you're good for something."

The fat head smeared across her cheek until thrusting into her mouth, coating her tongue on the way to her throat. She gagged around his thickness, body tightening. Hermione tried to pull her head away as drool spilled over her lips, but Lucius gripped her hair in one large fist, holding her in place.

"Now, now, dear, you can breathe when you've finished sucking my cock dry." His hips snapped against her, her nose hitting warm skin as his length pushed into her throat. She struggled around it, helpless against his onslaught. Drool coated her face as he moved against her. "There we are, good girl." Clever fingers twirled over her abused clit. "Yesss. Just like that." Each thrust of his cock tightened her core around nothing. "You're made for this, aren't you?" She couldn't make noise around him. "Made for sucking Pureblood cock, that's right. If you're lucky I'll someday fuck this dribbling little hole of yours." His fingers dipped down to enter her and his speed increased against her open lips. "You like being used, you little whore? That's right, take it." A long hiss escaped his mouth as he came, holding her flush against him and pulsing in her throat. "Fuck. So good, so very good."

Lucius righted himself, slowly tugging his cock from her mouth and tucking it away. He released the sharp grip on her hair and stroked her cheek. "You did very well, little girl," he murmured as he stared down at the panting girl. A flick of his hand and Hermione's legs lowered shakily to the floor. Before she could stumble, Lucius swept her up and she found herself cradled against his chest again. He pet her damp curls, the rhythm of his heart thumping comfortingly against her ear. It was hypnotic and her world reduced to that sound, his warmth, the press of him against her.