|The Auror and the Death Eater
Author: anondracomalfoy PM
Smutty one shot. Sequel to "Draco's Turn". This time Hermione holds the reins, and Draco's been a bad Death Eater.Rated: Fiction M - English - Romance - Hermione G. & Draco M. - Words: 2,674 - Reviews: 15 - Favs: 88 - Follows: 8 - Published: 11-25-11 - Status: Complete - id: 7581414
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
The Auror and the Death Eater
a/N: This oneshot is a sequel-by demand of those who've read it-of Draco's Turn. You might want to read it first, but if you don't, it's not that big of a deal. You don't really need to know much of anything about the previous oneshot to understand. Well, enjoy!
The room was dark, the only light radiating from a dim and rectangular-shaped fluorescent light that was placed in the middle of the shoebox of a room. The concrete walls were bare, and the only furniture that adorned the damp holding cell was an emerald green table and a rickety chair. The occupant of the chair had his hands bound behind his back, his wrists tied together with layers of thick rope. The trapped individual, a young man with white-blonde hair and a defiant scowl, shifted in his chair. The legs of the piece of furniture he'd been seated on scooted; a loud, scraping sound resonating through the otherwise quiet room. His white button-down shirt was wrinkled and some of the buttons were missing, giving him a disheveled appearance.
The young man gave a low grunt as he twisted to break himself free of the rope that kept a tight hold on him, but his resistance was futile. He stood erect when the ominous sound of heels clacking against the floor grew in volume, and pressed his lips tightly together as the lone door that was situated in the room opened, a sliver of light pooling into the room and lighting what appeared to be a young woman's silhouette. And then, as soon as the door had opened, it closed again, this time with another person present. The boy made out a petite frame topped with curly brown hair as the woman walked slowly towards him, the only sound coming from her loud shoes. As she stepped under the fluorescent light, he noticed that she was wearing a light purple blouse, the top few buttons opened to expose the contours of her cleavage, and a short light brown skirt that barely brushed her thighs. In her hand, the woman held a long black object that snaked to the ground and curled around her fingers—a charcoal-colored whip.
"Hello, Malfoy," Hermione drawled smoothly. "I've come to deliver your punishment."
Draco shifted in his seat, licking his dry and bruised lips as he looked around for some means of escape. There was nothing for him to use as a tool to release the magically bound ropes that held his wrists together, and he growled in discontent as she walked around the table, the sound of her heels thundering against his ears.
"You think I give a shit?" He spat viciously through clenched teeth, his hands growing clammy. "You can't do anything to me. You're nothing more than Potter's sidekick—his fucking bookworm Mudblood slave." The insult dripped from his tongue like acid, and he waited for her to recoil in disgust. When she didn't, however, his heart sank slightly. The word had always worked on her before…why wasn't it now?
"Oh, Malfoy," She cooed, sighing and clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth in disappointment. Hermione circled the chair he was sitting in, the whip slapping against the palm of her hand as she studied him closely. "You'd think that after all these years, you'd learn to improve your list of insults." She stopped again in front of him, spreading her legs and bending over slightly, her brown eyes shimmering with lust and mischief.
"Now," She began, her voice low. Their faces were so close that the tips of their noses brushed, and Draco's shivered instinctively at the touch. "You've been a very bad boy. I'm going to have to teach you a lesson, aren't I?"
Draco decided not to dignify her question with a response. Instead, he jutted his chin forward and stared at her down his slender nose—bound and determined to appear the superior in their situation. He wasn't, of course, but still felt the need to appear so. Hermione, obviously encouraged by his refusal to speak, moved to straddle him. She shifted her hips, moving the lower half of her body slowly against his legs. Draco's cock twitched, and he cursed himself for beginning to break already. He slipped into his mask of cool impassiveness, and regarded her with a sneer.
"Get the fuck off of me, Mudblood," He snarled with feigned hatred. "I didn't give you permission to touch me."
Hermione laughed shortly, and leaned forward, pressing her lips against his ear.
"Fortunately, Malfoy, I don't need your permission."
Draco growled at the young woman, and struggled in his bonds further. Hermione raised the hand that was holding the whip and uncurled it. She noticed Draco's attempts at escape, raised her hand, and dragged the whip across his face. The cord snapped across his flesh, sending a loud crack resonating through the tiny room. He let out a small cry and clenched his jaw shut, determined not to let it be known that his moans were more of pleasure than pain. She leaned forward and trailed her finger across the irritated red slash that now dragged along Draco's cheek.
"Such a shame," She whispered with a sigh, closing the distance and rubbing her lips across the wound. "You had such pretty skin. But you need to learn to behave yourself, Malfoy." Draco shuddered against her touch and licked his lips, the stiff region between his legs beginning to ache. Almost as if she was reading his mind, Hermione rotated her hips on him slowly, a small sound of pleasure escaping her rose-tinted lips.
"I'm not going to tell you where the rest of the Death Eaters are," Draco hissed between clenched teeth, narrowing his ice cold grey irises in her direction. Hermione's brows furrowed in irritated concentration, and she lifted the whip to loop around his neck. She tugged on the handle and the cord's end of the whip and drew him close, the tip of her nose barely brushing against his.
"Yes, you will," She said in a determined voice. With her hands placed firmly on the ends of the whip, she arched her back, throwing her head back as her curls bounced off her shoulders. Her breasts rubbed against Draco's torso, and he bit his lip as he realized how hard her nipples were. She moved her hips in rhythmic circles; slow, steady and sensual. When she finally straightened her back out and jerked her head forward, bristles of her bushy hair tickled his cheek. She dropped her hands, allowing the whip to hang loosely around Draco's neck, and raised her petite hands to allow her fingers to trail over the buttons of her blouse. One by one, she undid the pearl-colored buttons, and soon the lilac shirt slithered free from her torso and fluttered to the ground, exposing her emerald green lacy bra in the process.
Draco, too mesmerized to pretend otherwise, watched the allure of her breasts rising and falling, only restricted by the thin fabric of her bra. He bit down on his tongue, and felt her hands running through his soft hair. He felt her nails raking his scalp, and let out a small "oh" of pleasure at the sensation it produced. Hermione leaned forward, her hips still gyrating as her breasts pressed against his face. Draco noticed—painfully—that she smelled of vanilla and some other spicy aroma. It made the muscle behind his navel twitch achingly with desire, and he cleared his throat several times to calm himself down.
"Are you ready to cave in yet?" She whispered, her voice suddenly softer than it was before. Draco's abdomen was now burning; the fire in his cock spreading throughout his body. Stiffly, he nodded his head, realizing he'd hate himself for it later. Chuckling to herself, Hermione leaned forward and wrapped her hands around his back. She murmured an incantation to herself, and the tight ropes that kept him bound loosened significantly, and the thick rope fell free from his wrists and slithered to the ground. Draco pulled his hands to the front, his wrists aching and red from the friction of the rope against his flesh.
Hermione pulled her hands around and used one to lift his left forearm. His sleeve, which was already partially pulled back, was now yanked back by her arm to reveal the inky black stain of the Dark Mark. Draco growled, and Hermione lifted his arm so that it was in front of her face.
"I've always wondered…" Hermione whispered, her fingers gently tracing the edges of the swirling Mark. "What a Death Eater tastes like."
Draco's breath hitched in his throat, and his eyes froze on her. He watched as Hermione pulled her face closer to his left arm. She parted her lips slowly, and he saw the pink of her tongue sticking out between her plump lips. Draco nibbled on his bottom lip as she pressed her mouth against the skull of his Mark and ran her tongue all along the swirls and curves of the black mass on his arm. Draco gasped audibly, the sensation of her tongue against his skin exhilarating. He subconsciously shifted in his seat, rubbing his throbbing member against her in the process.
Hermione busied herself licking and dabbing at his skin, nipping his supple flesh in tender places before she removed her mouth and dropped his hand.
"Interesting," She mouthed, unable to speak.
The pair stared at each other for a while, breathing heavily. Draco's heart hammered erratically in his chest, and his hands twitched at his sides.
The collision was almost painful. As if thrown together, both Draco and Hermione severed the distance that separated them and crushed their mouths together. Hermione parted her bruised lips instantly and shoved her tongue in Draco's mouth, not bothering to wait for access to be granted. Their swollen tongues struggled for dominance, and she rubbed her body against him fiercely. Her hands trailed down to his chest, and she began fiercely ripping off his shirt, the buttons breaking free and clattering to the ground. Draco shrugged out of the shirt and shivered initially as the cool air bit his skin, but soon abandoned the thought and reached to tear her bra free. Her breasts popped out of the material, and Draco soon rubbed the undersides, being rewarded with a dulcet moan from the woman sitting on him.
Hermione's hands jerked impatiently at the button of Draco's trousers, and he lifted his hips so that she could shimmy his trousers and boxers off of him. Hermione then lifted herself a bit and raised her skimpy skirt the rest of the way up. Draco's cock twitched painfully as he noticed that she'd cleverly "forgotten" to wear knickers.
"Hermione…" He whimpered, almost painfully. Hermione lifted a slender finger to his lips, pursing her mouth and shushing him.
"I'm not Hermione tonight," She whispered. "I'm an Auror sent to punish you."
Draco licked his lips once more and panted, his chest spasmed slightly as her words tickled his skin and caused his hair to stand on end. Hermione snaked her hand in-between them and wrapped her hand around Draco's erection. He halted his breathing and resisted the urge to shove himself inside of her. The resistance caused his thighs to tremble, and Hermione smirked at the gesture. She began slowly; running her hand along the length of his shaft. Once she'd finished teasing him, she began pumping his cock, listening to his gasps and slight moans of ecstasy at her touch.
Her hand detached itself from his cock and she shifted herself closer to him, grunting to herself slightly. Draco watched her with half-lidded eyes, the pain in his abdomen growing with each passing second. He felt the lips of her cunt brush against his cock and had to refrain himself from coming undone right then and there. Hermione moved herself closer and grabbed onto his shoulders, her nails digging into his soft flesh. She rotated her hips and let Draco move inside of her. The initial contact of her cunt wrapped around his dick made Draco cry in pleasure, and he thrust his hips upwards instantly, wanting to cram himself as much inside of her as he could.
Hermione returned his cries with her own, and bobbed up and down on her spot, the skin of her thighs and arse smacking against his legs. She felt him thrust inside of her; faster and faster, and her grip on his shoulders tightened. Hermione arched her back, her hard nipples brushing against his chest, and growled ferociously.
"So bad!" She cried, her voice filling the room. "Such a bad Death Eater!" Draco growled in response and lifted his hips again, sliding in and out of her faster. Her cunt contracted around his cock, and the feeling of how tight and wet she was made him moan considerably louder than before.
"Oh, fuck, fuck," He shouted through clenched teeth. "I did it! I disobeyed!"
Their motions moved faster together, Hermione shifting her hips as he probed new angles of her cunt that had never before been ventured to, until Draco felt the white hot blots of ecstasy corrode his vision, and he cried out her name in the final moments of his climax. He felt his walls burst forward, and he came inside of her, the ecstasy and pleasure better than anything before.
"Oh, oh Godric!" She cried, gasping and rotating her hips against him. "Draco!" She came tumbling down with him, and her pleasure mixed with his as she felt him come inside of her.
Once the pair began to wind down from their final bursts of ecstasy, Hermione leaned her head against Draco's chest, and he slumped down into the chair. The two spent several moments afterwards panting, coated in a thin layer of sweat.
Draco sat at the kitchen table of his London flat, sipping on his mug of coffee and reading the Daily Prophet. His lips tugged into a slight frown and his brows creased together as he reread a sentence on the state of Gringott's, when he heard the familiar clicking of heels as Hermione entered the room. She was pulling her hair back into a bun and moved to sit down in the chair across from him, sighing softly and reaching out for the pitcher of orange juice. She poured herself a glass and raised the cup to her lips, taking a sip and studying him. She noticed the worn red mark that occupied the right region of Draco's face, and blushed to herself.
"What are you going to tell people?" She asked, setting her glass down and studying the man before her closely. Draco looked up from his paper, grunting lowly as his lip threatened to twitch itself into a scowl. Instead, he sighed and parted his lips.
"The truth, I suppose," He said blandly. "My wife got angry with me and decided to beat the shit out of me."
Hermione opened her mouth in protest, her face flooding with color. "I did not beat you!"
Draco simply shrugged, a smirk playing on the corners of his mouth.
"That's okay, Hermione," He hummed to himself. "I already have my revenge in mind."
Hermione slumped back in her chair, crossing her arms and regarding him with a cautious stare.
"Oh, you do?" She probed.
He nodded and laughed to himself as she continued to stare at him, urging him to continue.
"Don't worry about it," He said with an air of finality. "I like the element of surprise."
Hermione smiled inwardly. So did she.