A/N: This is my first fanfic and I'm really nervous about it! Be honest, and I mean brutally honest, with your reviews. I'm not sure whether it'll have a sequel, but I'll try my very best. Enjoy!
She closed the door behind her and leaned against it. The ring felt heavy around her finger and she automatically balled her left hand into a fist, exhaling slowly. She knew that this was wrong. She knew that she was risking everything because of this, but she couldn't stop it. A lump in her throat was getting bigger and for a moment she thought about turning around and ending it, but it was impossible. He made it impossible.
"Granger," he smirked.
"It's Weasley," she muttered and shot him a look of annoyance. She had always hoped that him calling her like that would make her snap out of it. It never did.
He raised one golden eyebrow and cocked his head to the side a bit, "No, Granger's fine."
You see, Hermione Granger had always been responsible, even when she was a child. She knew how to distinguish right from wrong, good from bad, fair from unfair. As a hardworking student she had always been at the top of her class, always number one, always the example child. She pushed herself through Hogwarts, hungrily taking in all the knowledge so she could be an even better person – perfect, you could say. So, how did this happen? How did someone like him manage to ruin her accomplishments like that, make her doubt herself over the simplest things, make her feel as if she had somehow betrayed her old self?
He was like a drug. And she meant it literally. She would often see, back in her Head Girl days, what Pixie Dust did to students. The stress of the exams would catch up and they would buy huge amounts of it, hoping it would help, begging her not to confiscate it. Of course, she always did. But she never knew why. Why would anyone let their body be consumed by something so much, that they crave it? Need it.
She almost smiled. The answer was right in front of her. Staring at her with those piercing gray eyes, hands clasped behind his back, a smirk on his lips. He was everywhere. In her mind, body and soul. It was as if she was addicted and couldn't get enough. His scent was on her clothes – masculine, strong, demanding. It didn't want to leave her alone. At that point, she wasn't even sure she wanted it to leave. It unnerved her.
"I'm just… " she paused when he took a step forward, his lower lip tucked under his perfect white upper teeth. He looked hungry.
"Spare me, I know why you're here again."
Her eyes narrowed and she raised her chin, "I'd advise you to behave, Malfoy. I'm not in the mood for games an-" she swallowed the rest of the line when he took another step forward, her breathing disrupted now. It was unnerving, what he did to her. She had thought about putting a stop to it many a time, but it never happened.
One more step and he was right in front of her, too close for her to think properly. He was taller than her, her head barely reaching his shoulders. She looked up at him and brought her hands up, putting them on his chest. They felt solid and firm, and it made her shiver in anticipation.
"Granger," he started, his hands on either side of her head. He bent down a bit, his lips next to her ear.
"I'm sure you're having a guilt attack right now, but I couldn't give a fuck."
She made a noise in the back of her throat and opened her mouth to snap at him, but his long index finger suddenly pressed itself against her lips.
"Shhh, let's not go through this again," he whispered a bit forcefully, his lower body slamming into hers suddenly. She let out a yelp and wiggled a bit, her back pressed too hard against the door.
"You and I know perfectly well that this won't stop, Granger." His lips slid from her ear to her neck and he let them hover there on purpose, his breath making her skin break out in goosebumps. "Whether you're with Weasley or not, you cannot let go of this. I make you crave me, I give you what you've never had before and you need me."
She closed her eyes, a blush spreading across her cheeks and neck. Breathing was suddenly very difficult and all she could concentrate on was his voice, his breath against her sensitive neck and the fact that he was pressing into her deliciously. One nod of her head and she confirmed what he had said.
He growled lowly at her agreement and his hands were in her hair suddenly, his feet pushing her legs apart. She gasped at the notion and arched her back slightly, pressing herself more into him. More, more, more, she always needed more. Her nails dug into his expensive robes and she pulled him towards her, her wedding ring flashing once from the dim light it the room.
The muggle motel they had been seeing each other in for the past few months had become like a second home for her. She was so familiar with their room, the surroundings and she felt peaceful there. But only when he was with her.
She didn't have time to feel guilty about all of this because his lips landed on hers rather violently. He always kissed her like that – like he was claiming her over and over again, trying to show her how only he could make her react like that and need him desperately from just one kiss. Her eyes closed automatically and she opened her mouth, giving him access. His tongue found her right away and she let out a whimper when they met, her body temperature rising.
She would always get lost when he kissed her, always forget about herself and what she was actually doing. It was too much, too intense and thinking was out of the question with him on her mind and so close to her physically. She whimpered when his teeth nibbled on her lower lip and her hands slid up from his chest to his neck, grabbing the back of his hair. She pressed herself closer, relishing in the fact that she could make him go crazy as well. She could feel his faint arousal against her stomach and when her nails scrapped the back of his neck slightly he growled again and grabbed her arse, lifting her up.
They didn't break the kiss while he was carrying her towards the bed, too desperate and needy to even breathe. This drug was better than breathing itself. It made her body ache for him, and she wanted it right then and there.
He dropped her on the bed and unbuttoned his robe, letting it pool around his feet. Her eyes slid up and down his body hungrily and her little tongue darted out, wetting her dry lips slowly. His gray eyes, which were now dark with lust and need, snapped to her lips and he groaned.
"You'll be the death of me, Granger. Take it all off," he commanded and kicked off his boots while unzipping his trousers at the same time.
She nodded and quickly pulled her blouse over her head, her curls falling back down and framing her face. She unzipped her skirt and slid it past her hips and thighs, throwing it on the floor. When she was finished with her underwear, she looked up, only to find him completely naked. He was staring at her, his right hand hanging freely at his side, the left one wrapped around his already hard cock. The golden ring of his right hand flashed dangerously at her and she almost scowled.
"Come over here, Granger," he said, his voice raspy.
She looked up at him and scooted towards the end of the bed, her whole body feeling as if it was on the edge. He moved closer to her, his cock right in front of her moist lips. She wiggled on the bed, feeling herself getting wet. She loved doing this for him. Her eyes would slide up his body, over that golden patch of hair she loved to play with, his abs, chest and to his face. He looked almost too perfect with his head thrown back, eyes tightly closed and cheeks flushed slightly.
She wrapped her lips around the head of his cock and he let out a hiss, his hand automatically going into her wild hair. She made a sound of approval and raised her hand to wrap it around the base of his cock, her tongue now swirling over the tip. He was breathing raggedly now, his hips jerking forward slightly as her lips slid down his length.
"Don't fucking tease," he growled, and his hand tightened in her hair.
She moaned and her eyes fluttered shut at the notion, her lips and tongue sucking him off just like he liked it. She knew how to press all of his buttons, knew what he loved the most, what he enjoyed the most and what made him come hard. And she had never failed to do that. After all, she was always a hard worker.
Her hand slid down between her thighs and she blushed at how wet she was, knowing he'd approve. He suddenly yanked her head back and looked into her eyes, his own wild with lust.
"Get on the bed."
The tone of his voice, the growl she could hear in it made her pussy clench and she did what he had told her, spreading her legs eagerly. He pumped his fist over his cock twice and got on top of her, settling between her thighs. He grabbed her legs and pulled her closer to him, making her tiny body slide down the bed. They never kissed while they were having sex. It was always like that and she had never questioned it. She made a mental note to ask him but it was all soon gone when the tip of his cock brushed against her pussy. She wiggled and let out a tiny whimper which made him grin at her. He looked like the devil himself.
He stared at her for a while, brushing his cock up and down her slit slowly. He was torturing her and she hated when he did that. He loved hearing her beg and ask for it, loved when she talked dirty to him but even after all of their encounters, she would still blush at that part.
"You know what I want to hear, Granger," he growled, apparently close to just slamming into her. He was as desperate as she was and she loved it.
"P-Please… Draco.. " she closed her eyes and took a deep breath only to snap them open when he slapped her thigh. Her pussy clenched at the action and she let out a grunt of frustration.
"Please what? " he asked breathlessly.
"Fuck me… please, fuck me."
Merlin, she sounded like a slut. She needed him badly, all of him. And he was making it all complicated, for Godric's sake.
"Fuck, I love it when you beg, Granger," he growled and grabbed his cock, pushing into her slowly. He hissed and let his head fall back and she arched her back in return, his cock stretching her deliciously. He felt so good inside of her, too good. At times it felt as if it was too much, but she didn't care.
"Fuu-uck, I love this, I love your tight little cunt," he grunted and she moaned at that, her breathing slowly picking up. He was inside of her finally and she knew he'd break her apart. He never started off slowly. He never let her adjust to him and get used to his size. He didn't care, simply put and it made her even more responsive to him. He started fucking her as hard as he could, but not as fast yet, his whole cock moving in and out of her as if it was their last time together.
She was trashing, moaning, begging, too gone to care about what she was saying and demanding. And that's how he loved her. She looked up at him and he grabbed her hair, securing her head in place. His jaw was clenched, a bit of fringe falling in his eyes and he looked so sexy she wondered how it was possible. His breathing was ragged and he'd grunt and groan with each slam of his hips against hers, making her cry out in pleasure. He knew how to fuck her, what spots to hit and it never failed to make her fall apart for him.
"Tell me you're mine, Granger, say it!" he growled, never slowing down.
She managed to look him in the eyes and whimper something at first, her voice not cooperating at all.
"I- I'm- oooooh, Merlin, I'm yours. I'm yours, "she moaned, her hands clutching the sheets. She could feel her body shaking, shivers going up and down her spine and she knew she'd get what she wanted. He always knew what she wanted.
"That's right, you little mudblood slut," he grunted, his hands playing with her breasts now. He was squeezing and twisting her nipples, pulling on them with every thrust, making her get closer and closer.
Her breath hitched in her throat at the word he mentioned, her pussy squeezing his cock as it kept stimulating her. She had frozen the first time he called her like that in the throes of passion, but it was simply because she was shocked that it didn't bother her. She knew he didn't mean it, knew that he had said it merely to feel above her and in control and she wanted that. She craved it like everything she craved about him.
"Does my little mudblood want to come? Do you, G-Granger? Fuck."
"Yes, ple-ease, yes!"
He grunted and sped up, making her whine low in her throat. They were at it for a while. She wasn't sure how long it all lasted, but she didn't want to end it. And then she let herself go. He was close too, she could feel it. His brow line was sweaty, hair pushed back and cheeks and neck flushed. She started shuddering, her moans growing louder and louder; there was a ringing of sorts in her ears and she couldn't breathe or think or function and then she exploded. She screamed out his name, her back arching off the bed completely and all she could feel was him coming inside of her, filling her up, groaning her last name, always her last name, but she didn't mind that either. She felt him fall down next to her and roll onto his back, his spent cock slipping out of her pussy. For quite some time, neither of them said a thing.
She bit her lip and closed her eyes, praying to Merlin he wasn't going to say what she thought he was.
We need to stop this.
"I promise I'll make you faint next time."
"I'm quite serious, it's my personal goal."
Was it possible that someone could be so bloody arrogant and attractive while being arrogant at the same time? She thought so.
"If you say so, Malfoy."
He hummed and she nibbled on her lower lip, twisting the ring around her finger absently. The room smelled of sex and him and she inhaled deeply, closing her eyes. She could feel his lazy gaze on her and it made her fidget.
"Same time on Saturday?" his voice was confident as if he knew she couldn't say no. He knew her too bloody well.
She opened her eyes and finally looked at him, her eyelids feeling heavy. She wanted to say no so desperately – to put a stop to it and continue with her life, away from this hiding and stolen kisses and his scent. But he was the sweetest drug and she refused to give it up even at the expense of losing herself. That was the risk she was willing to take.
"Same time on Saturday."