She wasn't exactly clear on how it happened. How he went from the arrogant, self-serving git her brothers hated to a distractingly attractive, devastatingly suave, forbidden fruit that she couldn't help but appraise with her eyes every night at dinner. Even in his robes he had a great body, long and lean with an aristocratic gait that was just a little too even-metered; Ginny wanted to see him even the slightest bit off-balance, catch him in a moment of humanity.
So of course it was the most inconvenient moment of her life when Professor McGonagall assigned her to oversee detention in the dungeons with none other than the object of her frustrations, Draco Malfoy. To encourage inter-house relations in these trying times. Obviously. Ginny, the ever-obedient 6th year prefect would do exactly as she was asked. Ginny, the 16-year-old female trapped between a woman and a child would hate every moment of it, afraid of what might happen if she allowed herself even the tiniest leniency in his presence.
When Draco was alerted to this new program, his first response was to roll his eyes and make some grossly inappropriate comment about working in such close proximity with a Gryffindor, but when he heard which one was assigned, he swiftly bit his tongue, hoping no one noticed his change of attitude. She had grown into quite the young woman as adolescence had taken over. Her once ruddy hair had darkened to a sophisticated auburn, her freckles had dimmed slightly; her complexion now resembled cream with flecks of cinnamon. She was petite, but not at all unshapely. Draco had overheard more than enough Quidditch locker room conversations about what knickers she wore under her plaid school skirt, or how occasionally a button of her blouse would buckle under the strain of her full bosom, revealing for a moment the slightest hint of cleavage.
No, her maturity had not escaped his notice at all. She was spunky, yet coy, and he found his eyes wandering to her whenever she crossed the room, the slight spring in her step causing her curvaceous backside to bounce delightfully. On more than one occasion, Draco fought the urge to excuse himself to the restroom when any meal item let his overactive imagination wander. The banana at breakfast was bad enough, but the ice cream cone, her small mouth folding around the soft cream so innocently? Murder.
He reached the dungeons before her at 11 o'clock that night, intending to set things up for the detention. What he did not expect was for her to already be inside, arms crossed under her chest, the necessary materials for cauldron scrubbing laid in front of her. He cocked an eyebrow at her, as if that was all the inquisition she were worth.
"Where have you been, Malfoy?"
He checked the clock across the room, and it confirmed that it was 11:00. He could afford a little pride. "Not that it's any of your business, Weaselette, but I was studying in my quarters."
"None of my business? I've been waiting for an hour!"
"If you've been waiting an hour you must have arrived an hour early."
Ginny dropped her arms, running a frustrated hand through her hair, fighting an angry smirk. "You didn't receive the owl, did you?"
"The owl McGonagall sent both of us saying that the time had been changed to 10 so the students would not be out that late past curfew. You know how they are about curfew now, ever since…" the anger in her expression lessened as she remembered to whom she was speaking. He crossed his arms and leaned against the door, his cold, steel eyes daring her to continue the sentence.
"You were saying?"
Ginny knew it was wrong, but she couldn't help but bait him. Witty banter would surely distract her mind from picturing him in such a sensual way, she reasoned. "Since you let the Death Eaters in last year."
"I wasn't in control of myself."
She sauntered over to him, one hand on her hip. Her voice was low and daring. "Of course you weren't. Say what you want about the Imperius Curse, hire all the best lawyers and all the best aurors to conjure up some alibi to let you keep your title here, but I know what you're capable of, and I know what you did. What you did," with that she entered his personal space, and hitched her chin up so her brown, fiery eyes matched his of grey, "You're not fooling anyone, Malfoy, least of all me."
She reached for the doorknob at his side, but instead he grabbed hold of her arm and pulled her body against his, willing her to feel the warmth and the friction between them. He wanted to intimidate her, to take the fire out of her one way or another. Maybe then his thoughts would remember to be insulted at what she was insinuating, maybe then he would stop picturing what was underneath the tight blouse and short skirt she wore.
She struggled against his grip, but it was in vain. His strength was undeniable, as masked as it was in his school robes. "You think you know so much, little Weasel."
"Let me go, Malfoy!"
He made a tsk-ing noise at her, shaking his head. "No, you should have known better than to tempt me."
"Tempt you? How on Earth did I mistakenly do that?" Ginny hoped he would attribute her shortness of breath to her struggling instead of what it was; he was so close, and his scent was intoxicating. Expensive and alluring; thoroughly male. It was taking all her concentration not to wrap herself around him and breathe him in.
He crooked a finger underneath her chin and snapped it up, forcing her to look at him. "You know very well how. You claim to know so much about me, and yet all we ever do is fight."
"That's not all we do—" Ginny caught herself a moment too late, her eyes snapping shut in realization of what she'd unwillingly admitted.
Draco could not have hoped for such luck. "Oh, so the littlest Weasley has a secret."
"Don't call me that," she tried to gain some of her pride back, looking away, struggling once more in vain.
All of a sudden, his lips were at her ear, his voice an amused, husky whisper. "What would you rather I called you? Ginny?"
She tried to hide the wince at her childhood nickname. It made her feel so young, so unnoticed. Luckily for her, he continued with his rant. "I don't believe that suits you, either. Others may call you that, but I want to know your real name."
"You know my real name."
He breathed a laugh, "Not yet. You know your real name when you're in the heat of the moment, nothing between you and your lover. When you go to give them pleasure: pure, unadulterated pleasure, and they're writhing beneath you on the bed," his murmurs became raspy as he continued to speak; Ginny closed her eyes at the intensity of the scene he was creating, unknowingly pressing herself closer to him, "You'll feel them buck underneath you, thread their hands through your hair, push you faster, harder, further, beg you to end their agony, and in the moment of bliss, they'll tell you, no inside jokes, no nicknames. The name they whisper like a worshipped prayer, the name they scream as they come for you, that's your name."
She tried to steady herself as he licked the shell of her ear, unable to stop the hitch in her breathing as she sighed. A smirk came to his face as he moved her arm to the back of his neck, then wrapping his arms around her small waist. He continued to take advantage of her unobservant haze as he drew her earlobe into his mouth. A small moan escaped her lips, and she grasped at his hair slightly, trying to find sanity in her swirling mind. Her voice was inexplicably weak. "Bugger off, Malfoy."
Another breathy chuckle in her ear; his hand rested on the swell of her breast, running the pad of his thumb around her puckered nipple, then kneading her slowly, testing her reaction, "You claim to know so much about me, and yet you don't even know my name," She bit her lip as she felt her inner walls clench, desire pooling between her legs as a fire raged in her veins. He rested his forehead against hers, still kneading her, pressing her body against his. His eyes seared as they met hers, a confident, aroused tone in his voice, his body hot and throbbing. "Would you like to know?"
Ginny released her breath in a sigh and pressed her body into his of her own volition, her fingers around his neck giving her leverage. She rolled her hips against his very promising erection, eliciting a moan of surprise from him. She raised to her toes and whispered in his ear, a simple, "Yes."
Draco's lips crashed down on hers, his hands holding her face between his palms. His mouth was urgent on hers, pulling her bottom lip between his teeth before his tongue begged entrance, which she instantly granted. He traced every contour of her mouth expertly, his tongue dancing with hers. Her hands moved his robe aside as she began to untuck his dress shirt, her mouth still moving with his. He moved to the curve of her neck, just below her ear, nipping at her tender flesh, abusing the skin before he ran his tongue over the lovebite, placing soft kisses around the area. She continued to untuck his shirt, her hands slipping around to the front, fumbling with his belt buckle. She brushed against his erection as she struggled to unclasp it; Draco's head thumped back on the door in response. "Ah, carefully. Carefully."
She met his eyes with a sultry smile as she loosened the belt, slipping it from his pants. She looked to his dress shirt, then smoothing his robes from his arms; he did the same for her. She kissed him, deep and long, then kissed the corner of his mouth, his chin, trailing down to his neck as she popped one button open. She kissed the newly revealed skin as she opened another, then continuing the routine. He watched her, eyes greedy with desire. "Do we have to worry about interruptions?"
She continued her work, whispering against his skin, "I sent them back to their dorms, and Filch still thinks there's detention. We won't be disturbed."
He waited until she freed the last button and her eyes met his before he answered. "Good."
Swiftly their positions were flipped, and Ginny found herself pressed between the hard door and Draco's even harder body. He quickly shed her blouse and reached around to unhook her bra, flinging it over his shoulder. He gazed hungrily at her breasts, giving her an approving grin before taking both fully in his hands, cupping her roughly. She wrapped her leg around him in appreciation, a strangled breath escaping her lips.
He kneaded her soft mounds as he ground his body into hers, their hips meeting and intensifying the electricity between them. The friction was great, but not great enough. He needed more, more of her, more than the confines of her skirt were allowing. Quickly he popped the button and pushed it down her legs; the offending clothing pooled at her feet, and she wrapped both legs around his mid-section, leaning against the door and his body to stay upright. Her eyes met his as she ground against him; she tossed her hair over her shoulder with a smirk. "Tell me…what is your name?"
He swallowed a groan and returned her smirk in kind, his mouth back by her ear. "When I'm through with you, you'll never forget it."
He swung her around, walking a few paces before depositing her on the long table before them, his hands on either side of her hips. She rose up slightly to see why he was not joining her, only to catch a brief glimpse of his smirk before he placed a promising kiss over her bellybutton. He continued lower, and Ginny could no longer support herself on her arms; she fell against the wood, a slave the sensations he was creating, trying to keep her traitorous mouth from begging him to go lower, lower, to remove the offending cloth of her knickers, already damp with anticipation.
The musky scent of her desire was overwhelming his senses, and yet he found enough control to torture her. He ran his finger around the elastic of her knickers, slowly dipping lower, rubbing her only once before pulling out again. Her breathing was short, and the tight coil of need between her thighs was pulsing uncontrollably. His rested his hands on her legs, running his nose along her inner thigh. Her hand twisted in his hair, trying to pull him slightly upward, to where she needed him most. He licked her once, the sensitive skin burning with heat. She whimpered once, beyond all hope of retaining any dignity. "Please….I can't stand it anymore, I need you."
That was all it took. He made quick work of her knickers, tossing them over his shoulder before swiftly inserting one finger inside her wetness. Her hips bucked upward at the sudden intrusion; he could feel her begin to tremble when he added another, pumping them in and out of her, watching her writhe with satisfaction. He thumb swirled around her clit, and again she cried out. "More," she gasped, feeling that completion could not be far away.
Draco picked up the pace, thrusting his fingers into her faster, harder, reaching and stretching her deeper than she'd expected. Tremors were overtaking her body as her hips met each of his thrusts, forcing him further inside her warmth. He squeezed her clit, torturing her, furiously rubbing her center until she could hold back no more. "Oh, Merlin, please, I'm so close..."
He reached upward and massaged her breast with one hand, taking her nipple into his mouth, nipping at her sensitive peak. It was enough to send her over the edge, and her body crashed against him, her walls contracting around his fingers as she came.
As she spiraled back down to Earth she noticed he was hovering over her, supporting himself on his arms. She faintly heard herself murmuring, "Oh, Merlin…fuck."
He chuckled slightly, capturing her lips for a brief instant. "Merlin, eh?"
She flushed, unsure of what he was talking about. He continued to speak.
"While I'm flattered, I'm afraid you've got the wrong answer," he kept his eyes on hers as he trekked down her body with his mouth, reaching her center in an instant. "Try again, Ginevra."
And then his mouth was on her, his tongue swirling around her clit before delving into her soft folds, still recovering from her orgasm mere moments ago. A strangled moan tore from her lips as he continued to delve into her, his fingers replacing his tongue as his teeth found her tight bundle of nerves; her hands were fists, her fingernails leaving half-moons in her palms. He was not gentle, he moved harder and faster than he had before, hoping that somehow he could restrain himself from shoving up inside her immediately. No, this was more than some quick fuck. This was her education.
He whispered against her heated flesh, her moans and sighs a promiscuous background to his speech. "That's it. Tell me what name will pass from your lips when you touch yourself at night. When someone else is stretching you, filling you, what name will you fight not to call him? What name is etched on the back of your eyelids so when you fall off the edge, it's the first thing you see?"
He kept his furious pace, spreading her legs further so he could penetrate deeper, reach a different place with every thrust. Somehow she found her voice as her walls contracted around him for the second time, her toes curling with intensity; she could feel him smile as she answered, panting, "Fuck, Draco, you know it's yours…ah, Draco…!"
She spasmed in her second orgasm of the evening, spiraling even further than the last time, leaving all semblance of control behind her. As she came back to her senses, she felt soft kisses in the curve of her neck, a hand tracing lazy circles on her stomach and around each breast. When coherent thought returned, she rolled her head to the side, making eye contact with him. He was smirking something fierce. She narrowed her eyes at him, knowing full well she could not deny anything he was thinking. She prepared herself for some smug comment, but none came. All he said was, "Better."
Somehow his smirk gave her all the energy she needed. It firmed her resolve; she was not the only student here. Gently, she placed her lips to his, a slow, sinuous kiss before she quickly rolled him to his back, pushing his pants down with her feet. She could feel his erection pressing against her stomach, and she knew he was close, closer than he would admit. She broke the kiss, tossing her hair over her shoulder, trailing one hand to the edge of his boxers. She could feel each muscle in his abdomen contract as a soft hiss escaped his lips. She threw his smirk back in his face before descending. "My turn," she murmured.
She freed him of his restraints, somewhat surprised by his size, resolved not to let it show. The last thing he needed was another reason to be arrogant. She wrapped her small hand around his length; his breathing quickened and his half-lidded eyes closed completely. She made a loose fist with her hand and he thrust into it, repeating the movement again and again as he hardened still. Experimentally, Ginny lowered her head, taking the tip of him into her mouth for only a moment; he groaned as her warmth promised to envelop him, and then she pulled away, running her nose along his inner thigh as he'd done to her. He knew exactly what revenge she was seeking, and he was all but reluctant to give it to her. "Tease."
She shook her head. "No, not at all. Patience is a virtue, I'm told."
She took more of him into her mouth this time, swirling her tongue around his head once before pulling away again, her hands running over his heated flesh. Draco's cool exterior was fading quickly; his hands were fists as he cursed aloud, "Fuck your virtues."
She couldn't help the smirk. "Oh you will. Believe me, you will."
There was a promise in her eyes, a devilishly tempting promise that held a little too much, but it quieted him for the moment. Ginny continued her tease, much to Draco's dismay, but the moment he opened his mouth to complain, she took him fully into her mouth, her tongue swirling, her head bobbing; all that came from his mouth was a strangled groan at her sudden attack. He didn't bother wondering where she'd learned to do this, he only knew that if she kept this up for much longer, he wouldn't last very long. Again and again she took him fully into her mouth until his body was so tense she could sense the beginnings of his completion. She was about to make the final stroke when his strangled moan resembled one word. "Stop!"
She did as he said, more out of surprise than obedience. She rested her head against his leg and watched him take a cleansing breath, trying to regain any semblance of control. She ran her hand along his trembling length, but again he hissed, "Stop, Ginevra. Not like this."
Her eyebrows knit together as his eyes met hers. "It's nothing you did, believe me, one more moment and I'd have come like a schoolboy," he sat up slightly, and she crawled over him, her breasts brushing against his chest. He nearly lost his concentration as she settled herself between his legs, her center just inches away from his throbbing length. Instead, his arms cradled her and rolled her over so he hovered above her confusing stare. He tried to explain without sounding entirely ridiculous. "You're not some two-bit prostitute to take it on your hands and knees," his eyes roamed her naked form hungrily, a testament to his honestly, "Oh no, Ginevra, when I come, I want to be so far inside of you no one could take my place. I'm going to ruin you for any other man, and you're going to love every second of it."
With that, he positioned himself and thrust all the way into her, past the barrier he'd only half-expected to find. A virgin. Somehow he'd expected it, but it didn't stop the shock he felt. She was giving this to him, her enemy. Why?
Her hands found purchase on his shoulders, her nails dug bitterly into his flesh as she felt her barrier break. It hurt more than she'd expected, and there was no way he hadn't noticed. A small cry came from the back of her throat, but he hushed her gently, waiting for her to adjust to his size before he continued. It was difficult; she was so tight and hot, her walls were constricting around him, pulling him further, and yet he stilled, waiting for her to give the go-ahead. His hushed murmur held a melodic gruffness; it nearly sounded like he cared. "You alright?"
"Yes, I'm sure."
"Because we can—"
"I don't want to stop."
"I don't want to stop."
He strained to keep his control, to offer against his nature. "Last chance, Ginevra."
This wasn't the point. She wanted to be lost in the moment, no matter what that meant. Yes, she was sure. She'd been sure for some time now. Experimentally, she raised her hips to his, whispering seductively in his ear. "Don't stop."
It was all the invitation he needed. Slowly, but definitively, he pulled out of her only to fill her again, to roll his hips against hers, to increase the glorious friction between their bodies. Her mouth parted in a moan that emanated from the back of her throat; it was music to his ears. He captured her lips with his, spreading her legs further, reaching deeper, meeting her thrust for thrust.
Her hand twined in his hair; she tugged his head back when he found that once place inside her that set her insides on fire. "More. Right there, Draco, please."
He did as she commanded, picking up their pace, surprised when he found her still meeting his every move. She was not yet satisfied, she knew he was holding back. She raised her mouth up to his ear and whispered. "Forget I'm a virgin. Forget my name. Forget everything you know and just fuck me already."
Her candor should have surprised him, but it was so undeniably her that he could only smirk. He raised one of her legs to his shoulders, and she moved the other of her own accord. He pounded into her relentlessly, rubbing her center with one hand as his other supported her neck. Her arms formed a cage around him, and as she met his rolling hips she finally felt the tension inside begin to build. His face was the picture of concentration, she knew he was close. He was so deep within her she couldn't feel where he ended and she began, but all she knew was that he still wasn't giving her everything. Her breathless command was undeniable. "More, Draco."
His lips wandered up to her neck, covering her pulse with his mouth, sucking on the tender flesh. He moved his arm from behind her head to massage one breast, rolling her nipple harshly between his fingers. She felt him deeper and deeper, fire raging through her as all she thought was him, all she felt was him, she breathed him, she tasted him, she knew him. It didn't take long before she felt the tension began to give way to pure electricity coursing from him to her and back again, and her finally satiated shriek mingled in the air with his roar of completion, holding her tight against his body as they came together. He eased her through her orgasm, pumping once, twice more before finally collapsing against her, the sweat and heat causing their bodies to stick together slightly.
She had a permanent, tired smile on her face as she brushed the hair from his eyes, kissing the bridge of his nose. "Thank you."
He could only smirk in response, slowly pulling out of her; she gasped at the loss of his size, but the emptiness she felt only doubled her pleasantly sated state. He lay beside her, pulling her against his chest, toying with a strand of her hair. It was more than she'd expected.
She couldn't help but chide him. "A cuddler, are you?"
"Hush. I'm a gentleman. It's what you do for the girl, it's common courtesy."
She greatly doubted that was his only reason, but she let it suffice, enjoying his embrace. It was odd how comfortable she felt there, how it almost seemed like they fit.
He tried not to focus on what had just passed between them, but how could he not? The way she'd commanded him, how her body had fit so perfectly with his…it was more than coincidence that they'd found each other that night. It was Fate. And he was well-enough acquainted with Fate to know that Fate had it out for him, that his days were numbered and that'd he'd better get used to it.
Or maybe not. Maybe she was the beginning of the change he'd scarcely hoped to look for. He kissed her head and inhaled deeply. She even smelled like home, or what home is supposed to be. For the time being, he let it alone, lying on the most uncomfortable table ever crafted with the most beautiful woman he'd ever been with, the only woman he'd ever made love with.
That was enough for him.