Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Squirm	By : Alcoholic_Rootbeer Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 28992 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and will not make a profit from this story.

Chapter List
- 12
- 13
- 14
Managed to get some more writing done tonight. This chapter contains a slight non-con element, peppered with consent. Complicated emotions. You'll see. However, if that isn't okay, there is always a lighter fiction of mine to read, yes? Anyway, read on! Just posted a new comedy fic titled 'Tango.'
Somehow, someway, she's vexed me into staying the night at her place for not one, two, but three nights in a row for 'observations.' Each night after that fateful encounter, I've been accompanied from my office to her flat with no room for extra curriculars. Hermione believes it's what's best, and I'm willing to let her think so if it means I am allowed to spend as many extra moments with her as possible. I sent her home the night she revealed her true intentions to me; I couldn't bare the thought of her being considered an 'accomplice' in my transgressions. But after I disposed of Floyd what's-his-name, I arrived at her place promptly, freshly showered, and allowed her to run vital scans on me to reveal my inner workings.
Three nights of this and the only thing she's discovered is the slight heart murmur I've carried since birth. I watch her wave her wand this way and that over various parts of my body before she nods or sighs and scribbles away in a composite notebook meant for her research. Eventually, I grow bored and retire to her sofa, flipping through her coffee table magazines and debating how best to approach her on the subject of sex. So far, the topic hasn't come up, and I haven't wanted to push my luck, considering she did turn the other way when she saw me covered in blood which didn't belong to me. But, like that nagging prick I feel in the back of my skull when it's time for me to do my worst, my cock has a 'bone' to pick as well, and she is the ever unknowing victim of its desire.
Well, almost unknowing. I'm sure, by now, my want for her hasn't gone unnoticed. After all, we have 'done the deed' before.
Her eyes focus on me as she draws her face away from her writing, and she taps the tip of her pen to her chin. "On a scale of one to ten, rate your hunger level."
"Considering I ate before I left the office… a three. However," I purposefully trail my eyes down to her comfortable-looking lounge shorts and smirk, "there are other things I crave besides food. And those hunger pains are… extremely dissatisfying."
"Draco, I need you to focus," she scolds, pointing the pen at me in accusation. I simply roll my eyes as she continues, "You said there was a list."
"That's right."
"And on this list, you keep track of every person the Dybbuk-" I squirm in my seat at the word, though it's been easier to handle, as we've been practicing, "-has selected as your next…"
Her voice trails off, and I find myself finishing for her, "Victim?"
"Target," she corrects me. "It's very peculiar."
"Sorry, but what's peculiar?"
"I've combed through every archive and book at my disposal, and yet I've never read about a case where the victim makes a list."
I snort a telling laugh and roll my eyes yet again. "I'm not a victim, Granger. I've told you -I enjoy it."
"And as I've told you, that's the Dybbuk talking." The sound of the composite notebook slamming shut only adds to the piercing in my ears at the sound of the word I've come to dread. "You say you don't know how you select them, yes?"
"Correct again."
"Yet you've said every one of them 'deserved' it. What did you mean by that, do you think?" she stares expectantly at me, poised for an answer I'm not sure I can give her.
"It's just a feeling," I say, waving my hand in dismissal while staring at the freckles along the bridge of her nose. "Something, maybe the thing inside of me, knows their hearts. It's like... " I try to focus on the feeling and how best to describe it, "like I'm reading their auras and finding them wanting."
"Interesting." She rests her chin in her hand and leans her elbow along the arm of her recliner.
"It isn't interesting," I snap at her. "You should be bloody terrified."
"Misunderstood creatures are my specialty," she states respectively. "Tell me, what kind of researcher would I be if I turned my back on you?"
"A safe one. An intelligent one."
"Are you stating I lack intelligence?" she raises a cool eyebrow.
I smirk in return. "Why do I get the feeling I should be bloody terrified, now?" When I watch her yawn, I see my opening. "Perhaps some rest is in order?"
"Are you tired?" she asks immediately, reaching for her notebook.
"Not in the slightest," I admit honestly. I pry myself off the sofa and saunter over to her, offering out my hand. "But you, little witch, look as if you could use a lie-down."
She smiles up at me, setting her notebook on the floor before taking my hand and allowing me to prop her up to her feet. She leans into my chest and wraps her arms around my torso, shocking me. "And you wonder why I won't give up on you."
"I don't wonder; I know. You're insane." I kiss the top of her head, rubbing gentle circles down her back with my thumbs.
"The very definition of insanity is repeating the same actions over and over again while respecting different results."
"Precisely why I'm a lost cause."
"We've only begun to scratch the surface of your condition."
"If we get caught-"
"-We won't. Besides, you have yet to do something heinous while under my watch. I consider that a great success thus far."
"Just because you've kept me from scoping out the prospects doesn't mean you've sated my impulses," I point out. "And then there's Weasley to consider…"
"I'll handle Ron. You-" she pokes a finger into my chest, leaning up to look me in the eyes, "-stay as far away from him as possible. Is that clear?"
"Hmm… I'm afraid you'll need to convince me. I'm thinking a lack of clothing and an addition of myself in your bed will suffice."
"It's bad form to bring my work into my personal life," she counters.
"Says the woman who brought her work home with her -literally." My fingers trail down her back to the hem of her shorts before greedily scooping her asscheeks and yanking her up. Her legs automatically curl around my waist, and she wraps her arms around my neck to balance herself out, though her eyes narrow in response.
"Bold move," she says, brushing her nose against mine.
"I'm a bold man," I reply, challenging her with a heinous smirk. To my delight, her lips find mine, and I'm met with gentle caresses of her tongue against my lower lip. Instead of letting it inside my mouth to play, I nip at her tongue with my teeth and catch it, chuckling as she withdraws it back into her mouth. Then I capture her upper lip the same way, tugging on it with seductive measure. A soft gasp is her reply, and I dip my tongue into her mouth before staking my claim on her mouth with mine in a fanfare of rough kisses. Hermione's hands find their way to the back of my neck, up the nape of my hairline. The way she tugs at my tresses causes me to groan, and I'm elated when our kissing becomes slower but firmer, as if we must devour each other or face the consequences.
Impatient as I am, I manage to find the will not to roughen her up like last time, instead carrying her with appreciation toward her bedroom, like she is the fairest prize to obtain.
The only time I pause is to flick the door open with a wave of my hand before I carry her into her room and lay her back against her bed, taking my time. My beautiful Granger knows the bloody bits of me and still finds me deserving of her. Perhaps it's all a figment of my imagination; perhaps it's lunacy from the both of us, but we have found each other in this rubble we call life, and I don't intend to let her go.
Ever.
My body urges me to lay claim to her by penetrating not only her body, but her heart as well. It's why I'm gentle with her this time around: the more she falls for me, the easier it will be to darken her spirit to match mine. She's already at the tipping point. All I need is one good push to send her over the edge. Love, I think, would do it, but I have to be careful. Matters of the heart are fickle, and I need her fully devoted to me as I am to her.
My lips find her neck, and my teeth sink into her throat, leaving my mark on her. My Granger. Not Weasley's. Not Potter's. No, this woman belongs to me.
"Draco," she urges, her legs releasing from around me to split apart and present herself to me. Such compliance for a good soul like hers.
My hands travel up her hips, her stomach, finally cupping her exquisitely perky breasts through her camisole top. Those nipples have been teasing me half the evening, so I tease them back now, brushing my thumbs over their pebbled flesh. At the same time, I dig my teeth into her collarbone and earn a muted scream in reply. I can tell it takes everything in her not to wriggle beneath me, refusing to give me the satisfaction. But I still get my way, because her back arches slightly, moving her breasts further into my hands. I give them each a light squeeze and whisper against her pulse point, "I have to say, I'm a tad conflicted."
I can hear her rattled breathing as she struggles to respond. Finally, she forces out, "Oh? Why… is that?"
I continue to knead her breasts, loving the control I have over her body. "There's so many urges within me… I'm torn between which one I want to listen to the most."
Ever the scholar, her interest is peaked, and I hear her groan between gasps, "Describe the urges."
I smirk; she's like putty in my hands or fruit ripe for the taking. I'll feed her what I know will soothe her spirit and make her feel important. "I have the want to wrap my fingers around your throat and choke the life out of you." I nip at her neck to prove my point. "And I, also, want to strip you of all your clothing and make you scream my name until you no longer have the voice to." One hand still on her breast, I straddle her hips and move my other hand up to the base of her throat, curling my fingers around the muscles there. Our eyes meet, and I lick my lips, reveling in the small show of surprise in her eyes. Finally, an honest reaction. Now to see if I can make her fear me. "Which do you think I should listen to, hmm? Voice one or voice two?"
"Are they actual voices?" she asks, and I snarl in response, tightening my grip around her. Not enough to actually choke her, but certainly enough to gather her attention. Her eyes widen while I continue to massage her tit, confusing the Hell out of her nervous system.
"Does it matter?" I whisper, moving my face lower to the top of her shirt as I keep my grip on her neck above me. I pull the soft material down, exposing her erect nipple to me. My head dips, and I capture the bud with my lips, sucking and nipping in all the right ways to make her gasp and sigh against my hand. Her heart is beating so loud I can hear it, can feel it in her breast as I lap gingerly at the nipple and swirl my tongue. Fuck sakes, that small bit of pink flesh tastes divine, and my fingers tighten in response.
"Dr-aco," she mutters, struggling for breath, "I-I… too tight…"
"Mmm," I respond, constricting my fingers more. "I'm aware." My hand on her breast moves down, down, down to the hem of her shorts again, but this time it doesn't wait to see how she will respond. I jerk the garment down with one swift movement. "Oh dear, Miss Granger. Do you always retire to bed without any underwear?"
Her fingers dig into my wrist, trying to pry me off of her, but I'm not one to be budged.
"Now, now. You said you weren't frightened, Hermione," I tease, moving my fingers into the folds between her legs and finding them dripping with want for me. This was all a game before -a teasing of sorts to see how well she could handle the darkness within me. But seeing her bare before my eyes with my fingers ready to shove into her beautiful cunt at a moment's notice, I find myself lost in the gloriousness of it all. Fuck it all. Foreplay is my specialty, but I have to have her now.
I lean up and reach for my belt buckle, still not allowing her to move beneath my hold around her neck; however, I do grant her permission to breathe, easing up the tension. Quickly she gathers a large breath and begins to heave in shock beneath me, eyes confused and lust filled. Yes, that's it, Hermione. Realize what I've given you isn't something so easily obtained: a choice in the matter.
"Frightened yet?" I whisper, withdrawing my cock from my trousers and stroking it over her.
Her eyes gaze hungrily over it before she licks her lips and answers, "You won't hurt me."
"Oh, Hermione." I chuckle and shake my head. "That's where you're wrong, love."
Without missing a beat, I release her throat and use the same hand to grab the curls from the back of her head, jerking her face forward. At the same time, I frame my legs over her torso and shove my cock inside her mouth, all the way till it hits her throat. Hermione gargles in surprise, eyes round and eyebrows flying upward -I don't really care, because the sight of my prick stuffed inside her mouth is more than I could ever dream up. This is a far better image than what I've pictured while jerking myself in the shower. It's better because it's real, and she's real, and her tongue is softer than my palm, no matter how much lube I might use.
"Gods, Granger," I mutter, withdrawing my cock to the tip just to slam it back in again. Hermione's hands reach up and push against my hips, but I'm relentless in my resolve to fuck her face numb. I move my knee over one arm and pin it, then repeat with the other. Hermione struggles beneath me, gasping for breath around my cock, breathing through her nose before I shove it so far down her throat she gags. The retraction of her throat muscles is spectacular, like a woman coming, and I bite my lip while wearing a smirk worthy of Salazar Slytherin himself. "Such a good little witch you are, taking my fat cock in your mouth like that." I begin to bob her face forward and backward, moving her lips and tongue up and down my length. With a forceful thrust, I ram it all the way back and hold it there, down her throat, my sack brushing against her chin. "Fuck, what a champ."
I withdraw myself completely, and Hermione gasps for breath, tears in her eyes. She rubs the sore muscles in her throat, but I don't give her time to think about what's just happened. I roll over onto my back and jerk her up to sit on my lap. When she does, I brush her hair out of her eyes, wiping at her tears as I do.
"Shh," I coax, brushing my length against her folds. "Shh, now. Ride my cock. It'll make it all better."
Hermione closes her eyes, leaning into the caress of my hand. Well, that's a change of pace. I thought she'd be furious with me, but instead she seems to like what I've done. Just how much darkness can one woman take without breaking?
"You want me to ride you, Draco?" she whispers, licking my thumb with her wet, soft tongue. She pushes herself up on her knees, positions herself above me, and guides my cock to her entrance. "Alright." And then she sinks herself down onto my cock, sheathing me inside of her like a homecoming while kissing my lips in tender motions.
Fuck. I'm not entirely sure a man like me knows how to love, but if I had to take a guess, this is it. This is what it feels like. Caring about someone who only wants my best interests at heart, and visa versa.
I close my eyes and allow Hermione to rock me into oblivion, taking with her the bits of my darkened soul and cleansing them with her purity.
Tonight, I've seen the beautifully corrupt in her, and I know, now, I can accomplish my goals. One step at a time, I tell myself as I bring her to her first orgasm.
One step at a time.
Thank you for all of the wonderful feedback! More to come! Squirm on!
~A.
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