AN: This is an NC-17 chapter so if you are not mature enough to handle it, I suggest skipping this chapter and waiting for the nxt one!
Draco pulled away after another scorching kiss, pushed her gently to lie on her back and then took his time looking at her. His gaze lingered on her parted lips, her full breasts, her narrow waist, the brown curls shielding her virginity, her long legs, all the while trying to remember how to draw a breath. Dear Merlin, he hadn't expected her to be so beautiful.
He could feel his veela side was fast becoming desperate to take her into his arm, mark her as his and plant himself firmly inside her. He didn't give into the creatures demand yet.
His scrutinizing speculation of her person made her blush and mortify with embarrassment. She was trying to look defiant and not afraid, but she was worried. He could see it in her eyes, in the way she tensed when his knuckles gently touched her knee, and the way her hands clenched and unclenched at her sides. Oh, yes, she really was perfect.
Very slowly Draco got off the bed and removed his black trousers and left them right next to where her robes fell. She must have believed that he would become the aggressor now, and when he didn't reach for her, she slowly began to relax.
Hermione only took a glimpse below his waist before she forced herself to look away. He was big enough to make her want to run out of his chambers right back to hers and bolt the doors with all the locking charms she knew.
Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, she whispered: "Draco, are you sure this will work?"
The bewilderment in her voice amused him. She was so innocent.
He gently reached for her hand and pulled her into a sitting position and then wrapped his arms around her and held her tight against him. His head dropped down to the top of her head.
"Yes," he promised
He was a little surprised that he could speak at all. The feel of her soft breasts pressed against his chest demanded his full attention. He couldn't wait any longer. Neither his body nor his mind would allow another minute to pass without fulfilling all his urges.
His tongue quickly moved inside her sweet, warm mouth to stroke and explore her limits. Merlin, how he liked kissing her this way.
She liked it too. She wound her arms around his neck and began to stroke his tongue, timidly at first, than far more boldly, until she seemed as eager as he was to experience more of the erotic pleasure.
Finally, she began to whimper low in her throat and move restlessly against him.
The temptation proved to be his undoing. He wanted to take her that very moment, and it took all he had to control his response.
He kept up his tender assault on her senses, unknowingly releasing his pheromones to get her relaxed as much as possible, preparing her body and mind for his invasion.
Draco gently moved his lips to the corner of her mouth as he began to place wet kisses over her face. Kissing her forehead, her eyelids, the bridge of her nose, her flushed cheeks, her parted lips, her quivering chin. And then his lips trailed down her neck, licking and kissing her sensitive flash until he finally reached her firm breasts. He kissed and licked and sucked the tender mounds until her nipples turned into little rosy marbles. And that's when it happened.
Draco was in the process of suckling the areola of her left breast when suddenly he felt pressure in his mouth and the next thing he knew he was biting her breast so hard, making Hermione scream out of shocking pain, pushing at his shoulders trying to get him way from her abused flash. Draco, however, didn't let go until he broke the through her areola and start pumping the addictive veela venom, binding and claiming her as his partner, his lover, his mate for the rest of the eternity and beyond.
By the time the veela finished pumping his venom into the struggling witch, Hermione's raw screams turned into painful whimpers.
Content at their binding, Draco retracted his teeth and mouth from the swollen left breast and looked at his handy work. There were four punctured holes around the circled areola. Draco numbly brought one of his hands to his mouth and fingered his teeth. He felt the sharp points of four of his canines before running his tongue over the bleeding flash. Apologetically, Draco knew that this wasn't the only place where he had to make her bleed.
Numbly, Hermione felt as Draco spread her legs with one of his knees and moved himself between her thighs. She knew somewhere in her hazy mind that Draco was aroused to a fevered pitch and that there was no turning back.
She weekly tried to stop him when his hand moved between her thighs. He wouldn't be stopped though. It was much too late for that. He needed to know if she was ready for him, Gods help him if she wasn't, and as soon as he felt the wet opening he most wanted to invade, the demands of his body took over.
He tried to make his invasion swift. He moved between her thighs and thrust deep with one powerful surge. She cried out in agony, and the sound echoed in through the chambers. Only when he was completely surrounded by her tightness did he force himself to stop and allow her time to get past another unavoidable pain. He couldn't suppress his groan of male satisfaction. He was sure that this is the closest he would ever come to haven.
She was consumed by pain. She struggled against him and demanded that he stop at once, crying all the while.
Draco finally realized that she was crying. He immediately stopped and tried to calm her. "It's going to be alright. The pain will leave."
She decided to believe him, admitting that even now the throbbing wasn't quite as intense. She still did not like it though, and hoped it would be over and done with soon. But then he kissed her again and she was more interested in kissing him back than thinking about the pain.
Then he was moving, though slowly at first, vowing to stop if she asks him again, even if that kills him. Yet, instead of fighting him or making impossible demands, Hermione put her arms around his neck once again.
He wanted more than her acceptance, however. He felt her passion before he hurt her and he wanted to feel that passion again. In between hot kisses, he whispered sensual promises and praise and was rewarded when she began to move against him.
Draco braced his weight with his arms and lifted up to look into her eyes. There were tears there, yet there was passion there as well.
"Do you want me to stop?" He finally managed to ask, hating himself for causing her pain.
"No," she said.
He slowly withdrew, smiling because she instinctively tightened her legs around him, trying to keep him inside, and then he pushed forward again, all the while watching her expression for any sighs of discomfort.
She squeezed her eyes shut, let out a sweet moan and ordered him to do just that again.
It was all the encouragement he needed. He moved again and again, more forceful with each thrust and he loved the way she clung to him and made those erotic sounds in the back of her throat.
He continued his pace until she was writhing in his arms. Her hips were forcefully arching up to quicken his pace, and then she became even more demanding.
She let him know how much she liked what he was doing by scoring his back with her nail and crying out in pleasure, "Oh, Gods!"
"No, my love." He breathed in her ear. "It's Draco."
She didn't understand what he was saying to her. She just needed him more. Her need fed his own. She drew him down for a long, wet, open-mouth kiss, wild now, uncontrollable with her demands, forcing him with her uninhibited response to give her everything.
Hermione gave herself over to the veela, orgasming several toe-curling times, surrendering to the power of his possession. She had no choice, he wouldn't give her one.
He was demanding, covetous, rough, hard, vengeful and full of lust. And Hermione was blown away, intoxicated and inflamed by his desire, his passion, his complete domination, willing to take the pain for his pleasure and for hers, discovering there was something inside her that wanted it, wanted him just this way as he pounded mercilessly inside her, getting as close to her as he could, entwining, merging, claiming her body as his own.
His world came apart. He thrust deep, hard, over and over again, his movements uncontrollable now, for he was overwhelmed by her, and with one last surge forward, he poured his seed into her, shouting her name, over and over again in acceptance and surrender. In that instance when their hearts seemed to beat as one, and their souls felt as though they were entwined, she found her final fulfillment.
Authors Note: Just so you know I am not a romtic at all and therefore had to barrow a few phrases from Julie Garwood's The Wedding.
Thank you all for the wonderful reviews. This is the end of my veela claiming. I have one more chapter to add to this fic The Aftermath'. I may or may not write the epilogue depending on your requests.
Please read and review my other stories.
Thank you again!