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Use Me	By : recension Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Ginny Views: 17903 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: Harry Potter, all characters items and worlds, do not belong to me but to WB and JK Rowling. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Use Me
- 2-Bruise Me
- 1
- 2
Draco headed back to the Slytherin dormitories swiftly. If he was quick enough he could sneak into his bedroom before Pansy had a chance to catch him. After his encounter with the Weasley girl, he craved solitude. Both to process the encounter and to relive it privately.
Women were a species he cockily thought he had understood up until that point. The girls of his world—Pansy and Millicent and the like—were expected to find husbands at school. They were transparent about their desire for a mate with money and power; their security and status depended on finding the best possible match. Given the small pool of eligible bachelors, ladies were held to an impossible set of standards. Physical beauty and societal assimilation wooed a boy's family but only utter sexual indispensability wooed the boy himself.
Girls were really at a disadvantage in the whole system: expected to appear flawlessly virginal and pure to be acceptable, but secretly the filthiest lovers to be accepted. At any point a boyfriend could go public with a girl's sex life and she would be ruined. Only satisfied lips remained sealed.
Draco had never before had a reason to doubt Pansy's place at his side. She was pretty, clever, cunning, socially resourceful, and had kept him quite content thus-far but Pansy Parkinson didn't hold a candle to what Ginny Weasley had just done to him and Ginny had had nothing to gain.
He arrived at the dungeons and made a beeline for his dorm to privacy.

Later that evening, Draco scrubbed at his hands and body in the Prefect bath while the rest of the school was at supper. Even after all those hours he could still taste her, he could still feel her throat under his hands.
The power he had held, the ability to take her life if he chose, sent his blood south at the mere remembrance. Draco was surprised to feel no hatred towards her, not really. The irony that his mental anguish that year was caused by an order to murder was not lost on him. He was happily looking forward to seeing her again.

The next day was spent in a somewhat distracted state. He had caught sight of her entering the Great Hall for breakfast, bruises were evident on her lower thighs and her neck—if one knew what to look for. The fact that she hadn't healed them intrigued him, and he found himself stealing more than one glance at the enigmatic redhead during the meal.
He passed her several times during the day, curious how he had never really noticed before. Each time she kept her eyes glued ahead of her, or pointedly turned to a walking companion and shared a loud laugh as they passed. She was toying with him, he was sure, but he couldn't help falling into the trap of infatuation. His mind stewed with plans for her.

At dinner, Pansy was making an effort to gain back his attention. Twice he had postponed their regular meetings, the afternoon prior when he had been with Ginny, and that night when he hadn't been in the mood. She held her need for affection back in the Hall—Draco detested public affection—but made a show of flirting with Blaise over the meal to the audience of their housemates. Draco recognized the tactic, if the right mood suited him he could be possessive over her on occasion, so he placated her with an arm slung around her waist, pulling her close.
Pansy relaxed against him and fed him a bite of her dish, publicly lamenting that his night of Prefect rounds would keep him from her bed. If she only knew.

As midnight approached, Draco found his body buzzing with adrenaline. The night was quiet, no students out of bed, no sights in the hallways except flickering torches and the occasional ghost silently passing into stone.
He made his way to the seventh floor careful to not seem too determined. As the Hogwarts chimes struck midnight, he walked the corridor thrice and scanned the surroundings before disappearing through the appearing doors.
The room appeared the same as it had before, the single ornate four-poster bed in the center of the room, Ginny Weasley perched on the edge of it in her school uniform. "Hello," she greeted him, not rising, not smiling.
"Weasley," he awkwardly nodded in greeting, approaching the bed. He immediately slid his robes off of his shoulders, folding them haphazardly before tossing them to the ground, toeing off each polished black leather shoe before loosening his tie.
Still she hadn't moved from her spot.
"Something wrong?" he asked, stilling his movements.
"I want to see The Mark," she requested boldly. Draco wondered if he had really hit the nail on the head the last time they'd met: did she have a Death Eater fetish? Still this soft-speaking demure girl was not what he was used to from her. Somehow he felt a pang of some mixed form of fondness for her despite the brutality of their actions the day prior.
Caught off guard, he appeased her. He approached the bed, rolling up his left sleeve to reveal the Dark Mark tattooed in his skin. Ginny held his forearm close, her fingertips warm and her touch light as she studied it. Draco felt uncomfortable at the attention to something so sinister, but she had a true wonder about her regarding the thing. He doubted she had ever seen one literally in the flesh.
"Can I touch it?" she asked, looking up to him with widened eyes. Suddenly all he saw was a child in her, wide-eyed and naive about the design in his skin, about him, about the war. It gave him a pang of discomfort given their recent relations.
"I'd rather you didn't," Draco managed, pulling his arm away from her gaze finally, unfurling his sleeve to cover it. "Besides, that's not why we're here," he tried to bring the subject round.
Ginny managed a small crooked smile at that, her plump lips pursing as she bashfully dropped her gaze. "No I suppose it isn't."
"I risk inflating your ego to impossible size but I have to say yesterday was exactly what I'd hoped for and more," she purred, innocently scooting further onto the mattress. She settled on one side of the bed properly, propped up by her elbows with her legs extended, ankles crossed as she watched him.
His eyes trailed her lower body, from the edge of her hiked up regulation skirt to the bruises on her pale thighs, to the knees and socks he fondly remembered, all the way to her ordinary black shoes. Her legs looked at least ten times longer extended like that, and seemed to be inviting him to pry them apart. He barely heard what she had said, but caught the gist enough to smirk.
"Happy to be of service," he murmured—words that he had never before uttered in his life. He was unable to keep his eyes from her, and reached for one of her ankles, lifting it and slipping off her shoe, tossing it aside before doing the same with the other. As long as she wanted to talk he could move things along.
"No one even asked about the bruises," she boasted, moving to sit upright. "Not even these." She raised a hand to her neck, pushing further open her collar, revealing five purpling circles across her windpipe.
Draco felt himself start to grow hard as she stared at him, proud of the mark he had made on her body.
"They're faint," he explained, finding himself almost breathless in arousal.
"So make them darker," she requested, her eyes intense with light, signaling the game on.
"In due time," he murmured, happy to have her back on the hook. His hands reached for her legs again, slipping fingers under the elastic of her right sock, drawing the wool down slowly over and off her flesh, tossing it over his shoulder before removing the left.
"What about these?" he asked, lightly tracing his fingers over the bruises he'd left from gripping her thighs.
"Darker," she requested. Draco pressed his fingertips in on the bruises, shivering in anticipation as she let out a gasp at the dull pain, shutting her eyes. She had tossed her head back, her neck bared again, her red locks flicked back against the pillows as her chest heaved with shuddering breath. He lessened his grip on the bruise and watched her breathing return to normal. He was fully hard.
Draco paused to disrobe, his tie, shirt, and trousers quickly hitting the floor before he crawled to join her on the bed. He separated her thighs, dragging her diagonal by the ankles before stroking his fingers along the skin of her legs with blind fingers, the soft skin addicting to touch.
She laid back, spreading her legs for his hands. Her inner thigh was soft, supple, pale flesh under his fingertips and without much thought he lowered his mouth to the skin.
His teeth sunk into the flesh easily, her cry of pleasure spurring him on. Alternating sucking and tonguing the flesh, he marked a dark circle into the freckled flesh. When her thighs pressed together, when she settled in at a meal or at class the bruise would stimulate. She would think of him.
When he was satisfied with the color of the mark, he withdrew, watching her catch her breath again. "Get naked," he ordered, satisfied as she rose from the bed and followed the direction quickly. She tugged her tie loose, dropping it, unbuttoning her wrinkled oxford and letting that follow before her skirt. He watched the way she wriggled out of her clothing, as if it restricted her. The skirt eased off her hips and he panted as he saw she had dragged her panties off with it.
"I do have one more request," she bit her lip, not bashful about unclasping her bra, tossing it aside like the rest of her clothing, climbing onto the bed fully naked, her breasts bouncing as she settled on her knees, long red hair loose and untied. Draco had never thought he would find her so attractive but in that moment she was Botticelli's Venus stripped of modesty. "Can we extinguish the candles?"
Whatever Draco had expected her to request, that was not it, but he nodded in agreement. It was best if he didn't have her face to remember in ecstasy. It was probably the reason he had been so distracted by her that day.
"Then you'll need a safe word... a word to use if you're really in pain. If I can't see you, I won't be able to tell," Draco slid from the bed to his discarded trousers for his wand. He extinguished the candles of the room with one quick charm, darkness falling for a few seconds before the moonlight of a very narrow, very high window filtered in. His eyes adjusted, and he could barely make out the outline of the room by the time he re-settled on the bed.
"What about 'more'?" she suggested, crawling close to him, her fingers finding his hips, tugging his boxers down a little rougher than he would have liked.
"No, it-it's supposed to be a word you wouldn't normally say during sex," Draco hissed, frowning as she didn't seem to get the concept. He was beginning to lose his ability to think as she straddled his thighs, her hand falling between them to start stroking at his erection.
"I don't think I've ever called out 'more' during sex before," she playfully murmured. "Short of killing me, there's nothing you could really do that I wouldn't mind, Malfoy."
She withdrew her hand from his body and he sat up, pulling her close. He could feel the heat of her pussy against his member and he held her breasts against his chest as his lips found hers.
She returned the kiss, allowing him to keep it on the side of tender, not slapping him away for which he was surprised and glad. She let out a shuddering breath and raised her hips, guiding him inside of her with a gentle exhale.
He was glad to be back inside of her again, her hips angling to fully accept him, their pelvises grinding against one another as her knees and long legs tucked up against his sides. She didn't pull her face away from his, sharing his breath as they kissed and gasped into the same square inch.
He had had so many plans, of tying her up and finding a surface to bend her over, of making her voice her desires and say the words that would drive him over. Sharing breath and tender kisses as their bodies entwined had not at all been part of the plan.
His hands gripped along her ribcage, helping her start to bounce her hips. She had a hand gripping at his thigh, nails digging in to the skin as it kept her balanced, her insides vice-tight around him. The pace began to frustrate him, and he realized this was too intimate, too dangerous. She would grow attached, she would want more than this was. She was a Weasley after all and he wasn't her boyfriend. He had to put a stop to this. It was too comfortable.
Just as quickly as the moment had settled around them, he ended it, tugging her body up and off of his. "On all fours," he directed her, roughly tugging her hips back towards him. Her spine reflected the moonlight, one straight line to a mess of darkness ahead. He let his hands fondle the flesh of her backside, finding his grip near the front of her pelvis. He pulled her back, sitting her once again on his cock: they let out matching moans at the connection.
He began thrusting, trying to get into a rhythm but something about not seeing her was throwing him off. Her noises sounded far away in the dark, her shudders and gasps too distant to make an impression. He paused his motion, reaching forward and grabbing a fistful of her hair. With incredible force and a yelp of pain from her, he tugged her upright, her back arching to lessen the tug of his grip. Her hair smelled like juniper and sandalwood brushing against his cheek, like she had risen from forest, like the forest bloomed in her veins.
He breathed in her scent, kept her in anticipation as he pinned back one of her arms with one of his and used the other to find her neck in the dark.
"Draco," she begged, barely audible as his hand grabbed her neck. He buried his face in her hair and slammed his hips upward, once, twice, regaining his head space.
She gasped, an awful choking noise surfacing from within her and he immediately withdrew his grip.
"I'm fine," she insisted, but he stilled his motions and detached their bodies. This was mad. The very real possibility that he would accidentally hurt her hit him like a freight, it was something he couldn't shake. Draco knew he wasn't a murderer, even then.
"Please, don't go," Ginny reached for his hand, gripping it in the dark just as his feet found the floor. She was facing him now, facing the window, the outline of her body just visible in the dim.
"I say we cut our losses," Draco offered, running a hand over his face, feeling the scruff of his jaw's daily hair growth.
Ginny stepped closer to him, betraying his nonchalance as her thigh pressed against his erection. "Don't go," she purred, squeezing his hand.
"I don't want to hurt you," tumbled from his lips before he could stop it. She circled around him, the moonlight playing off her skin. He was fairly sure he could see an outline of a smile.
"Lay down," she requested of him, running her fingertips up his arm.
Draco found himself unable to leave. He reluctantly found himself on the bed again, and she straddled him once more, taking him inside of her again. Both her hands settled on his chest and she squeezed at his pects as she began to move.
Her muscles pulled him up in suction as she rose, her hips descending on him again and reestablishing the grip. It took her a few seconds to find a comfortable set of movements but as she did, she fell into pace. Her nails dug into his flesh, stinging the skin of his chest but it was worth it if it allowed her to swing her hips the way she was. Up and back, withdrawing his hard cock from inside of her, and back down, pressing forward to take him inside of her tight depth again.
Ginny found herself kneading at his chest as she rocked her pelvis, giving it a thrust forward to seat him fully inside of her again. As she began to find a happy pace, she pulled back her hands from his torso, gripping her own thigh for support with her left hand, winding back her right arm and—with all her might—punching an unsuspecting Draco Malfoy right in the nose.

"What the fuck? You mad fucking bitch!" Draco erupted in a string of curses and she stilled her movement. She wasn't sure if she'd broken the cartilage, but there was blood instantly, everywhere. He felt around his face for a worried moment and her heart began to race as she watched him assess the situation in the low light.
"You bloody fucking bitch! You worthless, stupid fucking cunt! You broke my fucking nose!" he gargled, the metallic salty taste of his own blood trickling down his throat. He gripped her arms roughly, just above the elbows and shoved her off of him.
His face was throbbing, the blood no doubt a mess, and he was still rock hard as she lounged on the bed.
She hadn't said anything, but she was worrying her lip, hiding a smile.
He sat up, angling his head back so as to slow the bleeding, trying to remain calm. "Get your wand, you're going to set this and stop the bleeding," he ordered her, snapping his fingers in her general direction.
Ginny shifted on the bed, kneeling beside him. She gently angled his chin down and pressed her lips against his, the blood of his nose, streaming down to his chin pressed between their kiss. Draco felt her run her tongue along his lips, noticing she was careful not to brush his nose with hers. She didn't want to cause him pain, but the blood clearly excited her.
"Did you hear me?" He growled, shoving her off of him again. He watched her catch her breath: pert, freckled breasts rising and falling in the low light. She did not leave the bed.
"Fine," he grit out. "Lay back," he ordered her, his pulse racing as he thought of what to do with her. He stumbled off the bed for his wand, tempted to heal his own nose but leaving it broken for now. The pain was dulling as his mind was preoccupied with other thoughts. He roughly shoved her hip, twisting her legs until she was where he wanted her to be—flat on her back in the center of the bed.
Draco flicked his wand at her, invisible silken ties binding her arms outstretched to the upper corners of the bed.
She let out a loud moan as she struggled against the binding and Draco ignited the candles of the room again to take in the sight of her better, taking back control. So she could see the bright red blood on his skin. "You deserve to be punished for that," he warned her.
Ginny pressed her thighs together, writhing gently in subtle struggle against the bonds and against her own arousal. Draco gripped her knees and wrenched her legs apart again, pressing a thumb in on the swollen mark his mouth had made earlier that night. "You are not to cum unless I say so," he warned her, gripping her throat to make sure he had her focus. Ginny gave a reluctant nod, and kept her eyes on his as Draco entered her.
He was rock hard. Enough games and titillation for the night, he thought. This was becoming a need-to-get-off and a need-to-punish-her situation. He felt primal, reduced to basic urges. He let his hand slide from her throat, sliding down to her soft-skinned, freckled chest. He gripped one of her breasts with a rough squeeze, feeling her nipple harden under his palm as he withdrew his cock and entered her again.
She was utterly soaked, drenching him with easily-flowing juice as he thrust inside of her, torturing them both with the pace. Her, a masochist and him a sadist. He kept his eyes on hers, and they stared back into his without fear or wavering. It felt chillingly intimate. He didn't pull back.
After a few excruciating minutes, Ginny began to writhe beneath him. "Malfoy," she whimpered, tugging against her bound wrists. He began pumping his hips with swift, harsh force, rocking the entire bed with the might of his thrusts. His cock slid inside and out of her easily, the tight muscles catching and releasing him as he sought his own release.
She whimpered, she arched her back, enchantingly responsive beneath him but Draco was glad she didn't let herself orgasm.
He pulled her legs to press against his body, ankles hitting his shoulders awkwardly as he twisted her body back onto itself, her gaze betraying the words she didn't want to say. This was exactly what she needed. Draco entered into her, compressing her body against the mattress as he filled her to the hilt, letting her adjust to the feeling of a slight crushing. She released a held breath and grunted in pleasure as he thrust out and in again, repeating the pressure. She was getting red in the face, holding back noises and demands. Draco released her legs then, tucking them at his sides as he returned to a more vigorous thrusting. His lower back began to cry out in pain, the pelvic thrusting growing tiring but he kept at it, seeking his release inside of her.
"Please," she finally whispered, shutting her eyes for the first time as he thrust inside of her and slowed his pace.
"Please what?" he panted, reaching a hand down to rub at the junction of their two bodies, his fingers running along her labia, spreading wetness up to her clit which he pinched with a gentle touch. She shivered and cried out, bucking her breasts forward, tugging again at the invisible bonds.
He continued to play with her clitoris as she searched for her words, pleased as she finally opened her eyes and grit out: "Please let me cum."
Draco smirked—how could he not?—and let his hand fall from her clit. He returned to his pace, quickening his thrusts, angling upwards in search of her internal sweet spot. He began to sweat, leaving her in the lurch to gasp and grunt as she withheld from orgasm.
"Fuck, Malfoy, please," she cried out, tossing her head back, biting hard at her lower lip as she squeezed her eyes shut again.
"Call me 'Master'," he barked at her, the words coming from deep within the recess of his mind without any conscious thought. It just felt like the right thing to say.
"Pl-ee-hease," she dragged out the word in genuine pleading, tears rolling from the corners of her eyes as he kept up his pace, doing things to her body she didn't know were possible in waking life. "Master," she added in a sweet tone, her muscles so tight around him that he was sure she didn't have the will power to last any longer.
Draco nodded vigorously as he began to feel his own orgasm impossible to stave off as well. "Yes, fuck, yes, cum," he demanded, thrusting twice more before shooting his seed inside of her. He no longer felt the pain of his broken nose.
He released her binds as he recovered from his orgasm, resting on his heels, sitting upright. He was still inside of her. She reluctantly detached from him, moving for her wand, and sheepishly crawling back onto the bed. Draco said nothing as she brought her wand to his face and snapped his broken nose back into place with the Episkey charm.
He watched her conjure a small bowl with a strip of cloth, filling the basin with water before using the cloth to clean the dried blood from his face. It felt tender, but not unwelcome to be cared for like that. He was too tired to protest or process what it could all mean. When she was satisfied with the clean-up, she murmured a charm and the bowl disappeared. He reached for her wrists, his thumb running over the marks from tugging against his magical binding. "Do you want me to heal these?" He asked softly but she either hear or didn't care to respond.
She slid from the bed, stepping into her clothes again. He watched her dress. Panties, knee socks, her school uniform taking shape.
"I should get going," she finally said, breaking the long moment, her eyes raking over his body, still naked as he now reclined on the bed.
"Come here," he requested, satisfied as she wandered back around the bed, crawling onto it to straddle his thighs.
"Since this is becoming a..." he searched for the word he meant. Hobby? Routine? "...regular appointment," he settled on before continuing, "There are a few rules we need to establish."
"Malfoy," she frowned, raking her nails down his chest playfully. "We don't need rules."
"Fuck you, yes we do," he scowled, gripping her sore wrists, pulling her nails from his skin. "You are not to fuck anyone else. I'm not sharing you with Potter or whatever other Gryffindor trash you've let in your quim in the past. You fuck me and that's it. We meet only here, never in a classroom or bedroom. And next time, we'll have a safe word or I won't bother taking my pants off."
Ginny frowned, but nodded. His rules were fair to her. She didn't want to sleep with anyone else. She didn't want to get caught. She sure as hell didn't want this to end.
"And you call me 'Master' from now on," he added, his thumbs pressing against the veins of her wrists, the pressure point causing her stomach to drop in unexpected arousal.
"Yes, Master," she murmured, shutting her eyes as she rocked her hips against his body, unable to help herself. Draco released her wrists, pushing himself to sit upright, one hand holding his body steady as the other tucked beneath her skirt, slipping aside her panties to stroke her swollen, used pussy. He easily found her clit, gently rubbing circles over the wet little bud, watching her pant, go slack, submit to his will.
"Whose hole is this?" he asked, dipping his fingers inside of her before sliding back to her clitoris. "Whose hole is this, Pet?" Draco growled, snapping her to attention. She opened her eyes, pupils dilated as she rocked her hips towards his fingers.
"Your hole, Master," she responded, licking her lips as she rolled her hips. Draco tried to resist the temptation, but she was a whimpering, wet woman purring and calling him 'Master'. He was no match for that level of temptation.
Draco slid his fingers from her, gripping one side of her panties and tugging the material until it ripped against her skin. He shoved her back against the bed once more, forcefully spreading her thighs as he flipped up her school skirt. He let her anticipate his movement, watching rock her pelvis, staring up at him, a beautiful innocent face flickering in candlelight framed in flaming red hair.
He ran his fingers along her slit again before thrusting the fingers inside of her, lowering his mouth to her pussy. His movements were quick, precise, less clumsy than even when she touched herself. His mouth flicked and bit her clit, his silver tongue proving its talent against her nethers as his fingers plunged inside and out of her, angled precisely to brush against every nub and ridge of pleasure of her internal anatomy.
She was putty under him, mold-able and enrapturing. She had no idea what she had walked into.
Within minutes she was writhing, biting at her own lapel as she tried her hardest to hold on. When she was approaching orgasm, he withdrew his fingers, dragging them along her thigh before pressing them against her school skirt, wiping them off on the uniform. He licked his lips of her taste, hovering above her. He pressed the tip of his cock against her entrance. He wanted nothing more than to thrust inside of her, cum and leave her, but he had intended to do that thrice over now. She had a way of luring him back inside of her.
He focused his will power and pulled his hips back, giving her one kiss on the mouth, sharing her own sweet taste.
He gripped her throat as he broke the kiss, turning her jaw so his ear faced his mouth now, he bit down hard on the lobe, tugging the cartilage under the skin. "Next time you draw my blood, I will kill you," he murmured against the ear, squeezing her throat gently before pulling back. "Do you understand, Pet?" he asked, pulling on his clothes with haste - not bothering with his undergarments or his tie, grabbing those in a fist.
Ginny nodded, her legs shut at the thigh, watching him dress. "Yes, Master," she called out to him as he left the room without looking back.
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