A/N: Few important things: First off, so sorry this took so long. If any of you have read my stories before you know I'm usually a very fast updater. But I just moved up in my job and have a bunch more work to do that I am still learning how to do, so sadly, my favorite pastime of aimless writing has been hard to squeeze in. I do plan on finishing the story though, no matter how long it takes, and I hope you'll bare with me till the end.
Also, to be perfectly honest, this story needs to be on adultfanfic, I'll be surprised if it doesn't get kicked off. It is practically a play-by-play and very graphic. I have no idea where I come up with this stuff! I can't truthfully say I've even seen an x-rated movie, and my own love life is neither way over active or non-existent, but healthily average (although I have always been very curious, open and honest in every area of my personality…)
I used ideas that some girlfriends and I came up with (obviously, we're very close friends, I never write a sex scene without their help, haha) and this time we've ended up with pretty shocking stuff.
Many of you may find it disgusting. However, others might even be intrigued. And then of course, there will be some who aren't necessarily all for it but understand how others might be. And that's kind of the point I was aiming for. Everyone has their own little things that do it for them, different unexplainable turn ons and turn offs. I hope to explore that idea further in future chapters. But either way, what I'm trying to say is there is a major warning for very sexual content.
And to any fans out of there who ship my previous D&H stories and are frustrated with H&S, I apologize but I thought I stated every place I could that this would not only be multiple pairings, but somewhat dark and controversial in certain character perspectives.
Of course, as evidence by this next chapter, I still love Dramione. But my infatuation with Snape has certainly grown and I have no intention of denying it, hehe. I must admit its not so much Snape in the novels that does it for me (although he certainly broke my heart by book 7), its Snape from the films. I'm sorry, I know he's nearly twice my age but Alan Rickman is sexy as hell. Nothing is more attractive than talent to me, and he is amazing. He was never what I pictured when I read, but I love his adaptation of the character whenever I watch the movies.
Anyways, for those disturbed by the "forcefulness" of the last chapter, you might be offended by the alluded "manipulation" in this one. Plus it's a bit crude in some ways, as I am trying to capture a male perspective. Not that I'm saying "all men are pigs all the time", because I'm certainly not. I have nothing but respect and realistic expectations of men in reality, it's just that in the particular time and place for this character he is very sexually graphic. And there is a very graphic scene included at the end. Something that can sometimes be viewed as degrading to women in certain situations, but I assure you in myfictional story it is not intended to be so. Please skip now if you do not wish to read such things. I don't wish to offend or impose on anyone, but I don't know how else to warn you other than the warnings I've already given.
If you're still with me, please let me know what you think.
… … …
Damn he felt good. Strangely good. He practically wanted to skip down the halls. Only almost though, Slytherins don'tskip. But he underestimated how pleased he would be to earn Granger's trust. He had to admit, he was a little worried after the fiasco earlier that morning. To think, she thought he wanted to cheat off her… And then when he couldn't bloody find the little twit again all day he had all but given up.
But then it happened: she walked right into him. It couldn't have been more perfect. And he did it. He got her to sit down, to talk to him, to drink with him, to laugh with him. Yeah, she was going to be a great "friend" to have… but still… to feel this elated about it?
Maybe it wasn't just what he could use her for in the future. Maybe it had a lot to do with what he vented. That, after all, was never apart of the plan.
The second the stunning words of pain and remorse left his lips he felt lighter. Freer. He had never, ever, told anyone anything like that before and he knew, deep down, halfway through finally spilling the truth about his father - about what being a Malfoy was really like - that he was probably revealing too much. Showing too much of himself. All those embarrassing thoughts and feelings…
But there was something about her that convinced him it would be okay. Even with her obvious dislike for him, she still seemed to hold him to the same expectations as everyone else, value his existence and potential the same as a best friend or a stranger on the street. She was such a good listener. And she had the warmest eyes, caring eyes… eyes that looked like they could find the good in anybody.
"What a sap," he thought smugly, blowing off his own gratitude. He knew she wouldn't ever repeat anything he told her to anyone, that he could rely on that. After all, she had certainly gotten personal as well hadn't she? Confiding in him about her "intimate" experiences thus far in her life. That all but guaranteed her silence. So no point in dwelling on all the information he had the odd urge to confess. It was over now, and it seemed he had won some of her good graces. And after he helped her with her N.E.W.T. she would never think of him in the same way again.
Just like his Aunt, like Kingsley, like McGonagall. These were good friends to have,
"Maybe I should leave something for Slughorn," it occurred to him as he reached the top of the steps and entered the Owlery,
"He's just a wand's length away from all kinds of important people…"
Draco called for a school owl and scribbled out a quick letter of acknowledgement to his Mother; he was fine, the castle was secure, relax, thank Aunt 'Dromeda, love, the usual.
"Or maybe send him a gift with a copy of my N.E.W.T. score when I get it back," he thought more, "Tell him 'I learned all I know from him'," he added with a scoff, reminiscing fondling of what a remarkable teacher Snape was.
A strong wind whistled eerily through the shabby rafters of the owlery, and Draco shuddered. Summer was definitely almost over, nights were getting colder. He tried to survey the night sky of the changing season but couldn't see passed the dark silhouettes of the birds and was reminded briefly how much he hated all the creepy, glowing eyes of the owls on him and moved on to wonder what he was going to do this fall. His letter from the Ministry said his application for an internship was still 'pending'.
He scoffed in annoyance all over again. Of course they saw the last name on the file and immediately panicked. They were scurrying for a legitimate reason, any reason, not to give the position to him. He was flawless on paper after all; top grades, previous experience, and he even managed to get his criminal record erased, so they couldn't even use that as a reason. He was Head Boy damn it, that meant he should get any damn job he wanted. What was their problem…?
A loud scuttling from behind him made him whip around in his place.
It was just two owls fighting over the same perch. Damn birds.
As he relaxed the jolt that had unexpectedly clenched his body, he yawned. He was tired; figuring out the potion wasn't that difficult, it was right in Moste Potente Potionsafter all, it was researching the damn counter-magic that was making him sweat.
He exited the owlery, slightly uncomfortable for the brief moment of exposure to the unlighted outdoors. He thought nervously of the words he sent to his mother, "the castle was secure". He had penetrated castle security before hadn't he? Was it safe to assume it wouldn't happen again?
Suddenly he wished he was back at the library with Granger. Not because he wanted to be around her of course, but just so he had somebody with him.
During the walk back his irrational fear only mounted. The castle was just plain creepy when no one else was there. It was stupid how one pathetic thought led to another; strange sounds, suspicious shadows… He began walking faster through the dark, still halls.
"Damn it," he spat when he reached the table he told Hermione to meet him at. She wasn't there. He checked his watch. What was taking her so long?
A part of him was utterly relieved that there weren't any other students at school with him. If anyone had seen him break into a sprint through the castle like an idiot, looking over his shoulder in panic, he'd have a lot of explaining to do. But if there had been other students there with him then he wouldn't have gone and bloody spooked himself in the first place! It was amazing what having rogue, vengeful Death Eaters after you did to the mind.
Every other corner he convinced himself he was being a moron and would stop running. But by the time he took another turn he was sure someone, something, was following him, and all but run at full speed again.
"Where's Granger?" he thought irritably, "She's annoyingly brave. And a huge DADA geek…" he remembered, brief images of her dueling Death Eaters twice her size in the very same halls flashed in his memory.
He found himself reaching the dungeons, probably drawn to its safe sense of familiarity. He pushed the door of the potions room open, needing a moment of shelter, a second to shake the nonsense off, to get it together. No one was following him! He was being stupid-
"Severus," moaned a wanton voice.
Draco looked toward the head of the classroom. There was much commotion coming from the picture frame that hung there. He squinted and slowly stepped forward, he saw two figures gyrating atop a table, exposed flesh and intertwined limbs…
"Severus…" the figure beneath moaned again; a sexy female with long legs wrapped around the man bearing over her. A sight of curve that alluded to ample breasts were pressed into his chest. Her long, amber curls hung messed with passion, "...Snape…" the girl whimpered again.
"No," the man he suddenly recognized as his Potions Professor snarled.
"Please," the girl begged. Her whole body was shaking, but to Draco's utter disbelief, it was obvious Snape kept driving himself into her again and again.
"No!" Draco heard him bellow, "You're not leaving."
But Draco recognized the tell tale signs of coming as Snape's biceps and leg muscles bulged and he stiffened.
"No… Oh God," he strained as he undoubtedly blew his entire load into her. Then he collapsed on top of the girl, heaving.
After a few seconds he lifted himself up, finally giving Draco a view of the girl's flushed but terrified face…
"Holy hell," Draco thought, frozen in place and completely stunned.
"You're staying," said the voice of his old teacher, twisted with rage and insanity in way he had never heard before.
"Granger?" Draco was finally able to utter.
Both of the faces belonging to the entangled bodies snapped in his direction.
Snape gave him the most evil, hateful glare he had ever witnessed before roaring angrily and vanishing into thin air.
Granger covered herself as she slid off the table, and then came running desperately towards him.
It was the strangest thing he had ever seen, a live person spilling out of a portrait, and it was amazing he was able to react fast enough to catch her deftly in his arms.
Hermione immediately wrapped her arms around his neck, burrowing her head into his shoulder, her hair shielding her face, and started balling.
Draco, still unable to process anything he had just seen, decided to run. Get this half naked, sobbing girl away from the snarling, unaccounted for potions master was all his mind could concoct.
It didn't take long; it was just the opposite hall at the bottom of the stairs, before he was in the Slytherin common room. He dumped Hermione onto the velvet, emerald green sofa and quickly turned away.
Driven by an unspoken rearing in high class chivalry, he unfastened his robe as fast as he could and thrust his arm out towards her, "Here," he demanded, taking care to keep his face turned away from her indecent exposure.
Through raspy sobs she reached out and relieved him of the garment. The full effect of what he just saw was still not completely realized. After a small moment of allowance for her to put on the robe Draco turned to face her.
She was laying on her back propped up against the arm of the sofa, wiping her face as tears streamed down her cheeks, and though her breasts were covered she was too distraught to button up, the robe remaining open down the middle. A line of creamy skin and her little bellybutton was visible before her skirt began, the pleated hem ending at her knees, which were clenched firmly together.
She must have taken his concerned expression as an invitation to spill her guts.
"Oh god," she cried into her hands, "Oh god, what have I done?" she squealed hysterically, going into a fit of violent sobs.
"Granger," Draco said, "Granger," he repeated over her loud cries, wanting her to get a hold of herself, to explain what the hell was going on, "It's okay, clam down," he said as he knelt down next to the sofa.
Hermione continued to sob, huffing up and down. She was clutching herself, trying to be still. She must have felt the flask in the pocket of his robes because she withdrew it, recognized it and hastily unscrewed the top. She tried to gulp down the liquor while still crying, choking on her lack of air and worrying Draco even further. He had never seen someone so upset.
"Hermione," he pleaded, "It's okay, you're going to be fine, I swear. Just tell me, what's going on?"
But Hermione just shook her head, inconsolable.
Knowing he'd be the last person she'd want to help her, accepting himself to be unskilled in the area of consolation anyway, and completely unable to think of anything else to do, he begrudgingly said "Come on," and reached for her hand, "I'll take you to your friends."
"No!" she screamed with fright, recoiling tighter into herself, "No, please, no!"
"Why not?" Draco asked, stunned. They were the last people he wanted to see, but he imagined it was going to be inevitable given the situation, until she surprised him with adamant protest.
"I can't see them! I cheated on Ron," she squeaked frantically. "I cheated on Ron! I gave my virginity to my Potions teacher! I slept with my Potions teacher! Oh god," she wailed, "It will destroy him. He'll think I'm disgusting. They'll never speak to me again."
She fell into another violent fit of crying, and Draco, at a loss for what to do, tried to utilize a calm soothing voice.
"Was that it? Was that the 'Vita Brevis, Ars Longa'? It's of Snape?" asking what he already knew to be correct now.
Hermione nodded her contorted face.
Surprised didn't cover it. That a 'Vita Brevis, Ars Longa' rendition of him would exist was one thing, that it's ambition was to fuck Hermione Granger was quite another. He guessed that was as sure a confirmation as anything that the Slytherin legends were true. If he could get the knickers off of Granger… well then he could get the knickers off of anyone. It was just unfortunate that she obviously regretted such a thing. And now he had to try and console the deliriously enraged and guilt ridden girl.
He could barely believe the insane situation and was already angrily regretting being where he was when he was, now feeling unable to leave her in such a state. He was no good at this sort of thing. What had he gotten himself into?
"Hermione," he said again desperately, just wanting her to stop, "It's okay, it's okay. You didn't cheat on him, it wasn't real. You're fine."
Hermione paused and gave him a pained look, "What are you talking about? Of course I did!"
"How could you cheat on him with someone who isn't even real?" he insisted, relieved she ceased sobbing, "It was just an enchanted painting, a painting! You didn't really give it up to anybody, not really."
"But he…felt real," Hermione choked, looking like she was about to cry again.
"He isn't though!" he answered quickly, he would give anything for her to not make those awful noises again, "He's an illusion, remember? It's a potion. Not the real Snape. You didn't fuck the real Snape."
Despite his harsh description this seemed to calm her somewhat, and she sat up a little, trying to wipe her face.
"Besides," he added, eager to finish and be done with the situation, "Look at you, you can barely hold liquor and you said Ron wasn't even your boyfriend. You can't cheat on someone you're not dating, and being drunk gets you off the hook for whatever you shit you might pull."
Hermione scowled at him, "That's not the point," she whimpered sadly, "I'm not like you, cold and promiscuous. I don't rely on cruel loopholes and lame excuses. Iknow how he feels about me…"
"Well it's his own fault for not having the balls to tag you down," he started to persuade, sensing her growing upset all over again and afraid he was losing his ground, "And it's not like you have to tell him! What he doesn't know can't hurt him Hermione."
But when Hermione only seemed to begin crying harder to this, he knew he'd need a different approach than the unwritten laws of his social realm with someone like her.
There was a long, pained pause while she cried and he thought with strain. "All you did was fall prey to a power you never suspected, it could've happened to anyone," he tried, emphasizing the rules of magic, fact and theory hopefully convincing her, "it's not like you knew you should've been careful, that it would do anything like that."
"But I did know…" she muttered guiltily, to ashamed to even look at him.
Draco looked at her inquisitively.
"Before, when I told you I thought I saw one…" she started shamefully, "I didn't just see him. He invited me in…"
"He said he was going to help me!" she tried to explain desperately when Draco gave her a look that blatantly addressed her stupidity to accept such an invitation, "And then we got in a fight," she went on hurriedly, eager to end the retelling, "and we were yelling and shouting at each other, and then, and then, he just started kissing me, and I don't know why, but I kissed him back," she was pouring it out now, "But only for a second, I swear! When he tried to, tried to go further, I smacked him and ran away. I tried to go to Ron for help but, but he was busy. It was only then that I ran into you."
"Why didn't you tell me?" Draco spat.
"Tell you that Snape tried to finger me?"Hermione said incredulously, "Forgive me, but I didn't think you'd be interested."
"Granger," Draco drawled with a bemused shake of the head, "You should have never gone back there by yourself!"
"Well we needed my test template remember? I left it in there…" she explained forlornly, "Besides, that's what I'm trying to tell you… I don't know why," she practically whimpered, "But I… kind of… wanted to go back," she confessed reluctantly.
Draco's astonishment must have been visible. He couldn't believe she would tell him something as intimately personal as that. That she was "in the mood", so to speak, to be treated like that.
"You think I'm disgusting don't you?" she insisted, "That I'm a pervert."
Draco didn't know what to say. But judging by the unexpected leap in his pants at the insane thought of Hermione Granger prowling for action, it wasn't that she was disgusting.
"Hermione, I-" he started unsteadily, shaking off the wander of his mind and rising up from his kneel next to her and sitting down on the coffee table instead.
"It's not like he was old or dead or anything!" she exasperated, apparently desperate to make excuses, "He said the person who painted him did it while he was still in school."
"Who painted him?" Draco asked, suspicious of anyone who would dare use 'Vita Brevis, Ars Longa' right under the nose of teachers.
"I- I'm not sure," she stammered, and Draco had the strange feeling she was lying.
"Please," she interrupted his thoughts, "You must know, I don't normally do anything like that! It's just…"
"It's just what?" Draco asked, interested in hearing the inner workings of an otherwise passion controlled bookworm.
"I knew by his… attentiveness," she began slowly, "his intensity, that he was… enthralled by me. Me! I know it sounds shallow, but it felt good. I'm not used to that… knowing someone wants me so surely. It was nice, and I wanted to see what it was like. In all my, my realexperiences I- I always worry too much, I start to doubt myself. I ruin the moment…" she admitted quietly.
Draco sputtered a laugh, breaking her serious, tell-all tone.
Hermione scowled at him and then broke into sobs again, "Oh god, what's wrong with me? I wanted my dead, old, potions teacher! Even you think I'm a freak!" she howled.
"No! No!" Draco insisted emphatically, ignoring the inflected insult, "That's not it! There's nothing wrong with you Hermione, he wasn't dead or old, you're right, and besides, you were bewitched!" he all but yelled over her sobs.
She ceased again and looked at him desperately for more assurance.
"I'm sorry I laughed," Draco muttered quickly, "But it's just funny..."
"What is?" she spat.
"That someone so smart could be so dumb."
"What's that supposed to mean?" she cried defensively.
"That you didn't know how desirable you are until Snape came onto you."
She gave him a look of utmost confusion.
Draco was all too familiar with conceited girls playing dumb about their looks, just fishing for compliments they're certain they'll get. And it was different with Granger. She really was lost when it came to blokes and what really goes on in their brains.
"Oh c'mon Granger," he exasperated, "thought that was a wand in Weasley's pocket every time you gave him a friendly hug?" he told her sarcastically, "Or that every male stared at you while you studied because they wanted to know what book you were reading?"
Hermione made to protest but came up speechless.
"Listen," Draco went on conversationally, "Next time you go all 'girly insecure,' just remember how you were Hogwart's number one fantasy before getting completely x-rated with an authority figure doppelganger again," he advised, the irking image of Hermione spread-eagle beneath Snape, letting him grind himself into her naked body, crept into his mind's eye again.
"What?" she asked skeptically, "Number one fantasy?" she repeated.
Draco just nodded, "I can't believe you really didn't know. Sorry you had to hear it from me."
"Nonsense, you're lying," she quipped, "Maybe a few Gryffindors found me nice because I was friendly to them, but not every boy in the school had a crush on me."
"There is a huge difference between a fantasy and a crush, Granger," Draco dictated coolly, "They didn't have to know you, or even like you as a person. It was the image of you."
"Of me?" she asked in awe, "Why me? I don't have that kind of image," she said determinedly, "Lavender and Ginny… They're the ones good at the make up and the fancy walking, drawing in boys… I'm so plain, so boring. And I don't mind, really. That's the way I want it! I'm only interested in my grades right now."
Draco smirked, "Oh really? Then why 'kiss back'?" he questioned her own words against her.
"It's okay Granger," said Draco huskily, the air suddenly thick with unexplainable tension, "Everyone has a sex drive," he slithered huskily.
She remained quiet, still frowning but thinking to herself as well."And that's what I'm trying to explain," he went on, "You tried to fly under the radar. That was the draw, that's why everyone ended up fantasizing about you. It didn't matter who you really were under the surface, the reality of you. Fantasy is just that; fantasy. And it wants nothing to do with what's real. You just seemed so snobby and detached-"
"I do not seem snobby!" Hermione protested.
"Snobby and detached," Draco repeated again, intentionally ignoring her with a sneer, enjoying his role as messenger in this controversial newsbreak a bit too much, "Too smart, too good for everyone else…" he listed as Hermione scowled even more, only egging him on, "So deeply dedicated to nothing but studying… well it couldn't be true. You couldn't be all nerd. Not with a sharp, witty tongue like that. Too much spirit. Too much spunk. Don't you see? There's a wild animal in you somewhere, and every guy wanted to be the one to bring it out of you. To corrupt the good girl. To turn you naughty."
Hermione gave him an odd, piercing look, long and thoughtful, "Every guy?" she scoffed with discredit.
"Quit sounding like you don't believe me," Draco said, "You haven't been the beaver-toothed, flat-chested, frizz ball for years now. We all showed up here as scrawny eleven year olds, and we all grew up so gradually…But the point is we grew up. But your determinedness to keep your distance only made it worse. Guys only want what they can't have."
She looked past him for a moment, perplexed and lost in thought.
"Feel any better now?" Draco asked impatiently.
"A little I suppose," she whispered, handing his flask back to him.
"Well let's get your mind completely off it before we get back to work, I'm really stuck on part four and I can't have you falling to pieces every other minute," he scolded.
"Okay," Hermione agreed after only a small hesitation, "Tell me then, what the hell is your Mother doing at the Tonks'?"
Draco laughed, "It's nothing really," he began, but Hermione leered at him in a way that showed she knew more than she led on, and he began to realize he underestimated how close she must've been to Nymphadora and their old DADA teacher.
"Well, if you must know," he sneered slightly, "After Voldemort fell and my Aunt practically lost her entire family, she must've felt it was important to cherish the members she had left… because she ended up reaching out to my Mother. They'd been estranged for years. Of course, my Mother was in no position to be picky, we needed a place to stay after all… and with the mutual loss of their other sister…" he trailed off, unable to hide a sense of compassion, "well they've actually come back together quite nicely. Turns out my Mum missed her dearly, but could never say anything to my Father," he explained.
"But you're happy about the reunion too," she said, although it wasn't a question.
He looked at her sternly and she had an amused smile on her face, "There was a picture on Tonks and Lupin's grave of Ted Jr.," she said.
"Teddy?" said Draco possessively, "Yeah, so?"
"You brought it for them," again she wasn't questioning.
"What if I did?"
"Oh Draco," she said, her smile even bigger, "That's so sweet of you."
Draco just scoffed and shrugged his shoulders, not looking at her approving face, "Merlin, look at the time," he changed the subject, "I doubt we'll get much further tonight… I suppose it's not that big of a deal though, it only takes a second to throw together, we could get yours going, find the counter magic and still have enough time to finish our essays before McGonagall quizzes us tomorrow evening."
"Are you sure?" she wondered carefully.
"Pretty sure," he nodded, "As long as we pick up right after breakfast and get right to work, and rush lunch just to be sure… I bet I could even get some house elves to bring us sandwiches in the librar-- oh damn," he realized out loud.
"What is it?" she asked.
"I forgot, I'm supposed to meet someone in Hogsmeade tomorrow," he explained.
"Oh really?" she responded.
"It should be alright though; I can just skip lunch and catch up to you later. Shouldn't take too long, it's a just a meeting, and hell, she might even buy me lunch," he answered smugly.
"Who are you meeting?" she asked curiously.
"Just a writer, wants to buy my story, Rita Skeeter. Think I'll make a bundle off her…" but he was distracted by Hermione's look of total disgust.
"Don't let her interview you!" she spat.
"Why ever not?" Draco inquired.
"She's a ghastly wench!" she insisted, sitting up more from the sofa, "Surely you remember! You were the one feeding her the garbage that is her usual diet fourth year!"
"Yeah, so? She got canned from the newspaper right after that; now that she's independent she'll pay anything for a good story."
"Who cares? She's horrible Draco. Don't do it. She'll make you look like a total idiot with her lies! And even if she doesn't, you'll still be making her even richer. How can you support such a liar and a fraud?"
"What do you care?" asked Draco, not liking her tone. No one told him what to do.
"You know it's not right," she insisted, "Did you even see the rubbish she published about Dumbledore?"
The name always stabbed him, and he grew angry with her use of it, "Why should I care if every idiot out there believes everything they read? All I know is she's willing to pay well."
"So you'll lower your own name to her level for a price?" she fired.
Draco's eyes narrowed, who did she think she was? His Mother? "Oh come off it, you're just pissy because she printed you were plain and unremarkable and you still haven't gotten over it."
Hermione looked offended, then coolly stern, "Like I care what she says," she hissed, "I'm 'Hogwart's number one fantasy' remember?" she finished with mocking seduction in her voice.
But whether or not she was being ironic, it didn't matter. Just the light suggestion caused an odd swirl in his abdomen.
Again being on the subject of males wanting her, Draco made the mistake of appraising her.
She really had grown up, that was unremarkable. But he didn't realize fully how well she turned out. She was such a subtle, natural beauty, careful not to draw gaudy attention to herself. He couldn't believe he hadn't really noticed before, but then he realized how odd it would be if he had, he was used to hardly given her a second thought.
But she had the most beautiful skin, the kind you wanted to reach out and touch. Hair you wanted to burrow your face in and inhale. And her shape went without saying, perfect. Perfect ass, perfect tits. Legs you wanted propped up on your shoulders.
"Juicy lips," he noticed specifically, making the mistake of imagining them massage his penis while getting a blow job. That was a big mistake, and he hurriedly forced himself to think of anything but her physical features.
But that's when he realized it wasn't just her physical features. It was that she was one in a few girls who were smart enough to figure out guys hated too much make up… "All that ridiculous glitter, bloody hell," he thought disapprovingly, "No, be natural, be real."
And it was that she was smart, that she was witty, that she had confidence, maybe not in her sexiness but in her ability to jinx your balls off. It was that she wasn't superficial or fake or any of that other annoying slop. It was that she was honest and sincere. It was that there was no stupid game playing. It was a lot of things.
He was suddenly wishing he hadn't offered his robe so quickly like an idiot. While he got plenty of glimpses of her bare skin, he honestly didn't see her fully naked, everything had happened so fast.
Then just as suddenly he wondered how long he had been lost in thought staring at the strip of her body exposed from the unbuttoned robe because when he finally looked up she was giving him the oddest look, as if trying to see into his mind.
He was thrown off by her expression. Something had definitely changed in her demeanor.
"Did you ever fantasize about me?" she asked quietly, her face slightly changing into a guarded curiosity.
Draco gaped at her question, completely unused to not knowing what to say.
But Hermione seemed content on ignoring his lack of answer, "Fantasies are always ruined after reality though," she said oddly, "For whatever stupid reason I thought Snape would be… a lot more affectionate. But he was very rough…"
"Granger," Draco said shakily, still unsettled by the new body language emanating from her, "You feeling okay?"
"I feel fine," she answered, "I'm just saying…"
"Saying what exactly?" he wondered, unsure of her strange tone; soft yet firm.
"That I think people are wrong about me," she answered candidly, "I don't think I am what you say they think I am. I mean, it would be great if I was… who wouldn't love that, at least on some level… But, I'm scared. I'm scared it's all hype. That I'm a disappointment. …That Ron will be disappointed."
"Disappointed?" Draco repeated incredulously.
Hermione frowned slightly, as if she would give anything to have this crucial point understood, "I'm worried what happens when he finds out I'm incapable of showing my sexual side," she grumbled, "That soon or later I'll just remind everyone of a 'mom'," she said with obvious bitterness, and then there was a quiet pause. "…I don't know how to be sexy," she finally finished pointedly.
Draco scoffed, "Granger, you don't need to try. Haven't you listened to anything I told you?"
"Yes I do!" she insisted, "When fantasy ends and reality begins I'll still need a reason to believe the real me is just as wanted. I need the confidence. Confidence makes a difference. Why the hell do you think anyone would shag you? And why would I be stupid enough to climb into that bloody painting? Snape and you, you're both cocky bastards. And Lily? Ending up with James? It's confidence."
Draco furrowed his brow. Never mind the insult, Lily and James? Where the hell had that come from? What was she going on about? But his confusion was interrupted. She stood up hastily.
"Come sit here," she commanded, gesturing to the sofa.
Draco, unsure but obedient, did as he was told silent and swiftly. She repositioned to be standing in front of him. She seemed heavy with indecision.
"I've never asked you for anything have I?" she pointed, "Not that people usually go to you for favors, but really, you could stand to do a few good deeds… right? This is going to seem crazy… but…"
She trailed off leaving Draco confused. What favor would she possible trust in him to perform?
"Ugh," she scoffed at herself, "I must be a lunatic," she huffed "Although… it's not like you could tell anyone -why you'd think anyone would be interested is beyond me- but no one would believe you anyway… it's just that insane…. But honestly, I think you're the only one mean enough to tell me the truth," she said with a grumble, "And let's face it, you'd be the one to ask about this sort of thing anyway… and what's worse," she continued to complain, "despite how much I love books, unfortunately I'm prominently a hands on learner…"
She gave Draco the distinct impression of one trying desperately to convince themselves.
"I just really want to know," she added dejectedly, "I need you to be honest."
Draco cocked an eyebrow. Whatever she thought she was doing, she had his attention.
"Alright…?" Draco said unsteadily, thoroughly befuddled now, "Let's have it then?"
In one fluid motion, she slipped his robe off her shoulders, suddenly standing before him in only her skirt.
Draco's jaw fell loosely towards the floor. A million different thoughts erupted in his mind simultaneously; had she gone mental in that painting? Just how much had she had to drink? Had she always been like this? A secret exhibitionist? But his thoughts couldn't survive. The situation was too surreal to even bother to try and make sense of it. He just shut down. And stared. She was amazing, her body curved in the most erotic way, but her face was bothered.
Hermione slightly stuck out a hip, and then piled her long curls messily on top of her head, "Tell me, how stupid do I look like this?" she asked, her voice steady and unemotional.
Draco's mouth was bone dry, "You don't look stupid," he managed to say airily. He wanted to ask her what the hell she was doing, but was afraid doing so would result in her putting clothes back. And if he knew one thing for sure about the insane scenario, it's that he didn't want her to cover up.
"Are you serious?" she inquired.
"Yes," he said, he was serious after all; the last thing she looked was "stupid".
She let her hair drop and then held her own breasts, teasingly covering her areoles and exaggerating her wonderfully perky cleavage. It was cute, the way she tried to give him a coy look, biting her bottom lip. He never imaged she could strike such classically erotic poses. She looked like a pin up.
Draco gulped, "That looks good too," he mustered.
Hermione seemed to scoff. "I always thought my shoulders were too pointy…" she thought out loud.
"Don't be stupid. They're not," Draco answered.
"And my ribs, do they show too much?"
"No," he said firmly, "They don't." He licked his lips and began to wonder if his arms and legs were really going numb. She was dizzying.
"And my breasts?" she finally asked, slowly revealing them again, a little shyness detectable instead of the forced bluntness she had been aiming so hard for.
"Perfect," he managed to whisper.
"They've become such a nuisance," she complained
"They're perfect," he insisted again, surprised at his own tone. But the idea of anyone bashing them angered him.
Hermione narrowed her eyes, "Well what's the worst part about me?"
Draco lifted an eyebrow, "Nothing," he said with a breathless shake of the head.
Hermione's shoulders shrunk with skepticism, "C'mon, I can handle it. From you it's expected. There's got to be something."
"There's nothing bad about you Granger," he said, still hypnotized by her gorgeous nakedness, "You're perfect."
"Please," she drawled, "There's no such thing as perfect."
"Well," he began slowly, wondering if he dared, "I suppose I can't really say for sure… you could lose the skirt, I could really tell you then."
Hermione seemed a bit reluctant for a second, losing the impersonal professionalism she had been trying so hard to maintain. Standing naked in front of someone could never be free of sexual overtones, no matter how "educational" you tried to be about it. Finally she shook her head and laughed with irritation, "What am I doing?" she wondered out loud.
"I have no idea," Draco practically laughed with lingering pleasant shock.
Hermione clutched her forehead in her palm with frustration.
"Hermione," he said her name softly, trying to tell her something she could benefit from, "You don't have to worry about anything, okay? You just need to learn to relax. When youfeel sexy, you'll know you're sexy."
Hermione looked forlorn, "But I'm afraid I won't ever feel sexy until I know I can turn someone on."
Draco scoffed, "You've turned me bloody on," he exasperated.
She looked at him skeptically.
Draco tilted his head back with frustration and groaned, "Never mind, I made that up completely," he drawled sarcastically, growing tired of trying to convince her.
But Hermione took a step closer to him, determination etched strikingly on her pretty face. Draco swallowed hard as she came nearer and nearer. Before he knew it she had her hands placed on his knees, and she was staring him challengingly in the eyes.
Draco felt tingles all over his body from her intense gaze. One hand began to slide up his thigh to the crotch of his pants.
She gasped when she felt his erection. She looked at him with disbelief.
"I told you," he whispered with a moan. Her touch ignited him. She had leaned over so much that they were practically mouth to mouth and her hair hung off of her shoulders. He could feel her breath on his face, it was shaky and heavy. Draco saw something significant yet subtle change on her face. Perhaps the realization of her power finally overcame her. Was she suddenly aware of the thick, palpable tension in the air? Arousal you could practically taste. Surely she must have thought he had seen a million girls naked, that this would be no big deal. But she had been wrong.
And now, she seemed curious. As is if now that she knew the effect she had on him… what else could she do?
"Sit on your hands," she said, and Draco slowly complied.
Thoughtfully, carefully, she climbed onto him, a knee on the side of each of his legs. She was hovering above him though, and he had never wanted to reach out and touch something so badly. Any inch of her skin; her cheek, her neck, her breast, even to curl his fingers into a lock of her hair. Damn her for making him sit on his hands.
"Does this make you… harder? When I sit like this?" she asked quietly, although Draco was certain she knew the answer by the look on his face, the heat radiating off his body.
Draco licked his lips and nodded.
"And… this…" she asked even more shyly, sliding her hands down her hair and then sensually over her breasts.
"Oh god," Draco responded, knowing she knew the answer by the surge beneath her.
She gave a small, yelp-like "oh" when she felt it, then smiled a little, "What's the hardest you've ever been?" she inquired, running a hand through his hair, studying him intently.
"I… I don't know…" he said, he couldn't think about it. He didn't want to think about it. No one else existed but her.
"C'mon," she whined insistently, lowering herself slightly into his lap, "You can tell me, I want to know. Was it something Pansy did? What was it?" Her chest and neck were right in front of his face, so teasingly close. He was overcome with intense urges. He didn't know how he was managing to keep his hands to himself. He wondered if she didn't know how he was either.
"Hermione," he said with a gasp, struggling with himself severely, "You know what you're doing right?"
"Not really," she answered with a strained giggle, and then finally sat on him completely.
Draco moaned and realized she must have been knickerless after her ordeal in the painting. All his strength was focused on remaining calm. He couldn't handle much more.
"You need to stop," he said warningly.
"Why?" she asked innocently.
"Because," he insisted, "I can't take this."
"What do you mean?" she dwelled.
"You know what I mean," he uttered with strain.
"Am I making you want me?" she whispered, giving the slightest grind against him.
Draco gasped with a lurch and then chewed his bottom lip. She had no idea how close he had come to ripping his hands out from beneath him, to grabbing her and throwing her down, taking her right there on the floor. It would be so easy; having no panties on all but convinced him it was a sign that that was what she must truly want as well. But that was absurd!
What was she doing? Never in a million years would he think her capable of anything like this. Perhaps she was figuring out that confidence thing after all. And, of course, what a damned fast learner. He wondered if it was the heat of the moment, the aftermath of her illusion with Snape that was making her act in such a way. He could swear she was hot. That she underestimated what the effect of feeling his excitement would have on her own. That she was as aroused as she was making him. He could have her… if he wanted.
But how could he want Hermione Granger? And how could she want him? Even if they didn't hate each other, they barely knew each other. At least not well enough to end up in this impossible position. They only knew each other by reputation, by image. And that's how everyone else knew them as well. And they knew by the definition tacked onto their names that they were certainly not allowed to… to be doing what they were now doing witheach other. Could he really make it go further?
"This is torture," he whispered.
Hermione lowered her head till they were forehead to forehead tiredly, was she perhaps waging the same inner battle?
His groin was bulging against his trousers. She was certainly failing now, he could sense she was enthralled by the feel of him, enjoying sitting on him, wanting to feel more of it. Her face was flushed, she grew quiet and undoubtedly unsure of what to do with the situation she created, her breath shaky.
Subtlety he lifted his hips upward, pushing his mound into her hot spot and when her lips parted to gasp with stimulated surprise he opportunely flicked his tongue into her mouth. Licking her tongue, she instinctively clasped her mouth around him. Straining his neck, he pressed his lips into hers and she let the pair of them sink back into the sofa, twirling their tongues together heatedly.
Her arms wrapped tightly around his neck as her straddle widened and she slid further up his thighs till her belly was pressed against his abs, her breasts against his chest. As carefully as he could, he slid his hands out from beneath him. Softly, slowly, he grazed under the hem of her skirt, his fingertips gliding lightly up the sides of her thighs to her ass as they continued to kiss.
She whimpered and wiggled, and Draco latched onto her hips and deepened their kiss, not wanting her to change her mind. Again he lifted his groin up against her, rubbing what she had done to him back into her. He could feel her shudder at the sensation. His hands slid slowly up the sides of her body, relishing in the silkiness of her skin before he cautiously reached the sides of her round breasts and teased her nipples with the tip of his thumbs, feeling them peak and stiffen with immense satisfaction and pleasure, having wanted achingly to touch her breasts from the very second she undressed.
She grabbed his hands with hers and froze, holding them still.
"What?" he whispered. He had a terrible feeling he knew what she was thinking. He frantically began kissing her neck, giving her a long, wet suck on her collarbone. She exhaled airily and Draco hoped desperately he stopped her from speaking. He had to keep her arousal stronger than her reason.
He drew the tip of his tongue slowly down in between her breasts and started kissing. He could feel her heavy panting by the time he took her hard nipple into his mouth, her breast rising and falling against his lips. He suckled so intensely she hissed and rolled her hips deeper into his pelvis, taking handfuls of his hair into her clutches.
"Oh Draco," she moaned, "I shouldn't be doing this," she gaped.
Draco smirked as much as one could with their tongue out, drawing circles around her nipple. Sure she was saying that, but she certainly wasn't telling him to stop.
"But you will anyway," his eyes said with arrogant assurance. He knew girls found him attractive, and once he got going, irresistible. That he was blessed with a natural magnetism. And once he started on them, they always let him finish.
"Oh," she moaned again, grinding herself as expertly as a professional lap dancer, "I must be barking mad…"
He smiled. He knew girls always had to say such things. For their own peace of mind. So later she could blame it on him. So that in the end he would be the one who didn't stop it. Be the instigator.
"Isn't this what you wanted?" he asked with icy manipulation, pinning the blame back. He cupped her face in his hands and pulled her face in for more kissing, "For me to want you?" he spoke into her mouth.
Hermione's eyes were closed dreamily now, "Do you want me?" she whispered.
"Oh yes," he whispered back, kissing her deeply and grazing her naked back with his hands, feeling her skin chill.
"…And what is it that you 'want'exactly?" she delved in a surprisingly sexy voice. Draco broke their kiss to survey her with a raised eyebrow. Did Ms. Granger want to talk dirty? He could die with joy. He had to be careful; she was so new to it all.
"I want to do things to you," he said carefully, baiting her.
"Oh really?" she tried to ask cautiously, but her intrigue was obvious, "If I were to let you do one thing to me…" she began slowly.
And again Draco smirked, "let" him?
"…What would it be?"
Draco thought very, very carefully. Of course, automatically he was strategizing how it would be easiest to turn one thing into every thing…
He leaned in to the side of her face, sure to blow his hot breath on her neck as he acted like he was sharing a deep, dark secret, "To taste you," he said in a low husky voice.
He felt her quiver in his lap. The suggestion was too strong.
Although unsure and nervous, she slid sideways off his lap, propping her back against the arm of the sofa again. Draco, not missing a beat, not even to spare a second to relish in his triumphant persuasion, laid himself out and over her in one fluid motion. He stared her intently in the eyes even as he gave her breasts long, wet kisses of what surely seemed like goodbye, then moved slowly down her belly, showering her with hot, sporadic kisses.
Then forcibly yet delicately, he gripped her knees and pried them apart. She seemed to tense with nervousness or anticipation, and Draco just smirked. He lowered his head, teasing her with suspense - letting his hair tickle her inner thighs - and inhaling her warm feminine scent before taking in the view of her.
She was glorious and breathtaking. He was right in his assumptions, she glistened with arousal. He wanted to devour her instantly, but once again held himself back. He knew this was momentous for her, and he was not going let her down. He kissed her softly on her inner thigh, then again on the other. He was having his desired effect on her. She had subtlety opened her legs wider, her stomach taunt and chest heaving slowly.
After licking the point her upper leg met her groin he finally flicked her clitoris ever so lightly with the tip of his tongue.
She tightened even further and he heard her sharp hold of air. Then, catlike and deliberate, he tongued the entire outside of her core in one hot lick, deep and flat, and she shuddered with the shock of unknown delight.
But she wasn't the only one. He underestimated her innocence. She tasted so unbelievingly sweet and pure; he uncontrollably repeated his lick, then several more excruciating times.
Her response was nothing but encouraging, her hips seemed to yearn upward, eager to meet his tongue. He marveled at the slick silkiness of her delicate skin. Her private depths and velvety folds were like heaven to his mouth. The flavor of her made him tremble. He traced around her clit expertly, working her up by contrasting the sensations of different areas. He was going to give her the entire experience. He peered up from between her legs, and saw her eyes screwed up tight, her hands sometimes messing, sometimes clutching at the root of her curls.
Finally he captured the swollen, pink mound that was her stimulated and waiting clit into his lips and sucked evenly. He watched with satisfaction as her mouth dropped and she gasped with pleasure.
"Oh Draco," she murmured, her fingertips gliding up and down her torso, causing the tingles he felt already reverberating through her to continue their ripple effect.
He could even discern the soft throbbing and clenching nerves of her delicious pussy against his mouth, which was now even more glossed with her sex. He released the suck he had on her, and began flicking her ferociously on the peak of her fragile bud.
She screamed at the sudden intensity and bucked her hips up violently. He grabbed her and held her down, feeling her squirm and cry out his name with pleasure. She wrapped her legs around his head in response to his pin, writhing around on the sofa. He was able to grip her legs and keep her from smothering him with his retaliatory strength, his work unaffected. He was ecstatic by the vigorous and almost combative response, loving a whole body experience.
"Draco," she screamed, a tone of longing in her voice.
"Hermione," he answered in tone.
"You feel so good…" she murmured unfinished.
"Do you want more?" he asked huskily, hot breath blowing lightly against her, hoping he made her long for what he had been leaving out.
"Yes!" she insisted.
Draco wanted to read in between the lines of her throes. He wanted her to want something specifically. He wanted to hear her say it.
"What do you want Hermione?" he asked icily, "Tell me."
Hermione seemed to sigh with frustration but Draco knew her desire would override her embarrassment.
"I want you," she began with a steamed whisper, "to fuck me with your tongue."
Draco shuddered intensely and almost came in his pants. The words came flickering out of her mouth with such erotic and ravenous suggestion and he hadn't expected the effect on his body, on his own arousal.
But he miraculously forged on, the motivation to give her what she wanted reason enough to keep it together.
He plunged his tongue into her entrance. He was deaf to her moans and whimpers; her hot, sugary insides drowned out the rest of the world. The heat and softness was indescribable and he uncontrollably began sliding his tongue in and out in wet, massaging motions.
"Oh god," she cried out, pushing herself instinctively against him still. He didn't mind. He wanted as much of her in his mouth as possible. She had a certain succulent sweetness he had never known before.
He continued penetrating her with his tongue like she so erotically asked, licking as thoroughly as he could and lapping at her private insides. Her whole body was thrashing up and down; she was clutching the sofa cushions. She was flushed all over, practically sweating with the heat he was building within her.
"Draco," she murmured again. He could tell by her desperation she needed him to give her release. He withdrew and felt her vibrate from the tickling friction and then he began lapping ferociously at her clit again.
She began moaning rhythmically, her cries grow louder and faster as he persisted.
"Draco," she whimpered, her cheeks burning red, "I'm going to come."
She gripped the sofa in even tighter fists when he refused to cease and groaned long and deep.
"Oh god!" she cried, "Ooh!"
Her back was arched, reaching for the ceiling. Her whole body was trembling. "I'm coming!" she screamed, "Oh god I'm coming."
Satisfaction engulfed him as he reveled in his ongoing accomplishment. He was not going to stop yet. She was still orgasming on his mouth, bucking and vibrating with pleasure - pleasure from him.
"I'm coming, I'm coming," she continued to cry incoherently.
It was an odd thing to have your mouth tired. His jaw was aching and his tongue was burning. But he had never wanted to see through the satisfaction of a partner so completely before. He wasn't sure how, but he managed to flick her clit even faster, with even more pressure, mustering the last reserves of his endurance.
Upon feeling him intensify, her babbling finally stopped she gasped in the wordless, airless summit of her climax, not able to take any more.
Her back came crashing back down to the sofa -and her pelvis, which she had been forcing hospitably upward in the urge of her orgasm, collapsed in a recline as well- releasing Draco from his wet, massaging lip lock.
Taking a much needed breath and wiping his mouth from her wetness and his own saliva with his forearm, he relaxed his neck and upper body comfortably between her legs, resting his head on her bellybutton. He could feel with immense pleasure of the aftereffects as her tingles subsided and her breath returned to normal.
But his pleasant reveling was quickly disrupted by the unsatisfied yearning in his own body. He was aching with stiffness. His dick was being pulled towards her like gravity. All those girls' complaints were true, sometimes it was as though it really had a mind of its own.
But while his body was certain Draco was amazed to find his mind was not. He watched Hermione catch her breath, her body slowly stopping its shaking. She was like putty. He could do it, like he wanted to since she initiated the whole ordeal. Like he aimed to when he convinced her to let him eat her pussy. To get her pleasure drunk then fuck her silly. It would be so easy. She wouldn't have the capacity to reason right now. And oh, how she would like what he would do.
But it was Hermione Granger. Virginal and pure. Spoken for, claimed. The war may be over but the sides were still there. She would never forgive herself for giving her virginity to him. This was no painting, this was real.
But was he really supposed to care? She came on to him. She would have no one but herself to blame. It wasn't his problem. And he wanted it so bad. Which was also her own damn fault.
Merlin, he was enraged with confliction. His loins all but screaming to enter her, pulling him, begging him. But he couldn't tear his eyes away from her face. She laid out before him, eyes closed delicately and still smiling and humming sweetly to herself, enjoying the aftermath of her first orgasm. She was so innocent and unsuspecting…
And then she opened her eyes, and gazed into his.
She propped up onto her elbows.
"Show me how to make you feel good that way," she whispered.
Draco's violent indecision melted away and he was overcome with relief, with amazement. She had just received the greatest pleasure she had ever known, and instead of conniving ways to feel that way again all she was concerned about was sharing it with another. She was so fair, so generous, so sweet.
But this realization was gone in the blink of an eye. The offer to his member was immediately accepted, and his mind, not wanting to dwell, not wanting to find anything wrong with it, conceded.
In an instant he slid further up her body, straddling just below her breasts and she was surprisingly ready.
She curled up to meet him, cupping his butt with a hand and assessing the jutting appendage in front of her face.
"Like this?" she asked shyly, sticking her tongue out slowly, giving him a light, hot lick on his tip.
Draco shuddered, "Yes," he confirmed, "More."
She complied, licking softly, the hand not propping her up caressing his ass softly. He was just about to tell her, but then she did it on her own. He could only take so much teasing, and she began twirling her tongue around the entire outside of his tip.
"Oh yes," he hissed, feeling his whole body tingle. Her playful little tongue, her soft, warm lips, so pink and innocent like bubblegum. She was looking up at him, eye to eye, through long hazy eyelashes. He shuddered again.
"Are you okay?" he asked, stunned by the question coming from his lips. But this was all new to her… he wanted her to be comfortable.
"Let me know…" he began, again shocked at himself, "…if it's too much."
Hermione nodded again, smiled a little and licked him again. Then she twirled around him some more, growing hesitant upon noticing him clench and flex.
"Now put it in your mouth," he whispered.
The heat, the pressure, of her soft, hot mouth was overwhelming, and her lips formed the most perfect ring around his cock, blocking blood flow, letting his nerve endings engorge with sensation. And she began tonguing the head inside her mouth, massaging deeply, a look of hesitation on her face. Surely she had never done anything like this before. But she was amazing at it. So naturally pleasing.
Draco moaned and her eyes smiled. Draco just smirked surreally. He loved the way it looked from where he was, apart of him hidden in that pretty little face.
He reached back and took her hand, placing it lightly on his shaft, and she encircled it delicately. He gave her a small nod, and she slid the ring her finger and thumb made from his base up to her mouth, and then she firmly, evenly, slid her lips and hand down his shaft.
"Ooooh," Draco sighed with relief, feeling his dick quiver and quake in response.
"Is this good?" she wondered worriedly, pulling back for brief reassurance.
"Oh god yes," he uttered hurriedly, "please don't stop."
She gave him a long lick up and down before putting him back in her mouth, growing less and less shy and unsure about holding him in her hand, about spit, about rubbing her lips into him.
She sucked more of him in, then went back to his tip, then up his shaft, then back, then up, over and over as she developed her stride with increasing confidence. It was euphoric, watching himself disappear into her gorgeous mouth.
"Oh yeah," Draco hissed, "suck my cock baby," he gushed, unable to help himself.
He grew nervous for a second, wondering if she'd find that demeaning. That's not what he intended.
But it was all for naught, because to his surprise she only seemed more encouraged. Perhaps all she really needed was the reassurance that when it came down business she was still as desirable as the imagination led to believe. But she was better than the imagination. And she finally seemed to understand that. She slid up and down his erection with more ease and naturalness.
And as she continued to relax - grow more comfortable to the large, long presence in such an inappropriate place - she sucked further and further down his shaft.
Draco was engulfed in hopefulness, just the thought made him surge with pleasure. Could she? It would be too amazing.
She continued to look him intently in the eyes. He loved that. It was so empowering.
Then he hissed again, watching with anticipation as she really lunged forward, taking immense amounts of him in.
She was about an inch from all of him and she seemed perfectly comfortable.
"Oh god," he moaned when she did it again, "How far can you go?" he asked airlessly.
Hermione gave him a determined look and slowly, making sure to relax, carefully slid her mouth along him, then strained just a little bit further down, engulfing his complete dick into her mouth, her nose pressing into his pubic bone.
"Oh, my, god," he moaned, reveling in the pleasure of every inch of him getting a chance to feel her juicy, warm lips, a chance to be massaged by her wondrous tongue.
She pulled off of him to catch a breath of air and giggled with shy triumph.
"You're fucking amazing," he moaned.
"You like it?"
All he could do was groan in response, there were no words.
She laughed at his response, feeling very confident now, and began pumping him up and down with her hand and focusing on his ultra sensitive tip, sliding it in and out of her mouth much faster than before.
Draco began to tremble; the pressure was building now, his balls tightening. But he didn't want it to end. He strained to enjoy it longer, swimming in the pleasure of his building orgasm. Every nerve ending in his body was escalating to that magic moment. It was going to feel so fucking good, to explode with ecstasy.
'Fuck,' he thought suddenly, realizing that he was unsure how this was going to end. What was she going to do? Swallowing was a bit extreme for someone so new, and who how she felt about that… but spitting was just so juvenile.
"Hermione," he whispered shakily, "I'm going to come."
God, why was he warning her? What had gotten into him?
But it was too late. There was already a look of intimidation on her face.
Draco tried to conceal his grimace, "Do you not want me to?" he asked painfully.
"No, no," she began, panting from the interruption at such a crucially intense time -much like himself- trying to be nice but obviously worried, "I just… I don't know about… I don't think I…"
"…want me to do it in your mouth?" Draco finished.
She must have detected his disappointment, and she bit her lip guiltily, "I want you to finish," she pleaded, "But, yeah, I don't…" she trailed off, knowing she was contradicting herself, "I mean, is there any other way?"
"I could do it on your tits," Draco blurted, his cock throbbing uncomfortably, angry with the pause, causing him to carelessly think out loud and then instantly he felt terrified.
But Hermione just looked at him intently, "Al-alright," she agreed slowly, and Draco tried to hide his shock, "Just tell me when," she said.
And before Draco knew it, she was gently, working her way, vigorously sucking and pumping his shaft, clenching him with surprising and relieving pleasure.
Incapable of thought, overcome by the sensations she drew out of him, he thought nothing of the absurdity, but only the insatiably arousing notion of marking her, claiming her in this moment, as his own. It appealed to him on such a raw, instinctual level. And she was going to let him do it.
His breath grew rapid as the pressure mounted, his eyelids fluttering uncontrollably as all the muscles in his body tightened.
"Right now," he groaned through gritted teeth.
Hermione released him from her mouth, but her hand remained wrapped around him, and he cupped around it, guiding her strokes.
Her chest was heaving with anxious breath and her face was transfixed on his member. She smiled shyly as he threw his head back in ecstasy and yelled out with pleasure, feeling the fluid rush through him and emerge with pure bliss.
Hermione gasped with airy amusement and astonished delight as he spilled out most intimately onto her. She watched him climax with such attentiveness and fascination. He in turn watched her flush with excitement. But her surprising enthusiasm towards such an act was nothing compared to his own. He had never participated in anything so satisfying, so ecstatic, so god damn orgasmic. His seed all over her beautiful, delicious tits.
And then they just looked at each other, panting for oxygen. Tingling electricity still coursing through the air. Dumbstruck smiles strewn on their mouths and subtly shocked expressions across their faces.
Hermione's hand drew to her chest and she absentmindedly, yet so deliberately, drew delicate circles with her dainty fingertips in the substance now spread out on her chest, as if needing to be sure it was really there, that she really let him dothat. Something so extreme, so graphic. And that she liked it. And leaving Draco, all but stupefied, liking that she liked itmore than she could ever imagine.