Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Leather	By : Tnteacups Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 19871 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any of the characters within, they all belong to J.K.Rowling, and I am making no money from this fiction.

Chapter List
- 1-01
- 2-02
- 1
- 2
Chapter 2 (hahahaha, but it’s a oneshot?) Not Any More
“I’ll have Filch see to this room. He’ll be pleased to confiscate so many things at once.” Headmistress McGonagall decreed, closing the door behind them, and casting a single password charm to it. Something Filch could bypass without magic, but no student could get through unless she told them the password. Hermione sighed with relief. At least SHE wouldn’t have to risk her own pride again, just to see these things out.
“On a different note, I’ve heard your grades aren’t doing so well, Miss Granger. Is there any problem?” The Headmistress asked, fixing her student with a concerned look as they walked down the hall together.
“Oh. I’ve been having trouble sleeping is all.” Hermione muttered, feeling ashamed to admit it. She was a war heroine, not a restless child, and her troubled sleep wasn’t something to concern the Headmistress with. Maybe Madam Pomfrey, but not McGonagall.
“Trouble sleeping? Is it your dreams?” McGonagall asked, her tall figure cutting a path through the students that rushed around them heading to their first class of the day.
“When I can get to sleep, it’s bad dreams. But I have problems actually falling asleep. I don’t really want to take potions, though. I hear they can be addictive.” Hermione answered, and then to ease Professor McGonagall’s worry. “But I slept just fine last night. Went to bed, passed out, and woke up dream-free this morning!”
“That’s good to hear. Did you try something different last night?” McGonagall asked in a pleased tone, watching Hermione expectantly. Hermione gulped, and nodded, fighting her embarrassed blush.
“A bit different.” She said, trying not to think too hard on what had happened.
“Well, whatever it was, I’m glad it’s working. Keep it up. It’d be a shame for your final year to end on a poor note when you’ve been an excellent student all previous years.” McGonagall advised, and Hermione felt her face darken. If only McGonagall had known what she was telling Hermione to continue doing, would she still be so happy about it?
“I’ll try, Professor.” Hermione mumbled unwilling to admit why she’d be reluctant to repeat the exhausting scenario. She could try other things on her own, before committing to any sort of Malfoy-based ‘relaxation’.
-
She’d been so adamant she wouldn’t come back here, yet here she was, standing in front of his door, her fist raised to knock, but unable to go through the motion.
It’d been a week since she’d slept well, and she could hardly focus in class, her notes were lacking, and she felt constantly like shouting, and ripping her hair out. She’d been to Pomfrey, turned down the offered potions, and tried all of the non-magical solutions the witch had offered. Nothing had worked, not even the delicate way she’d phrased ‘masturbating’. Hermione had jumped on that idea, positive that the orgasm she’d had under Malfoy’s ministrations was the reason she’d slept so well. But no matter how she tried, she just couldn’t get there. Like tickling herself, it just refused to work. So here she was, hand raised, eyes staring at the ceiling, his arithmancy notes clutched in her other hand, wondering if she REALLY needed to sleep.
She knew he was awake in there, having been in the lounge when he’d snuck back in, a small tray of snacks being ferried to his room. They’d ignored each other, but it had sparked her curiosity. How was he always sneaking food into his room, and still maintaining his amazing figure? Would allowing him to ‘dominate’ her allow her to sleep again? It was already two in the morning, she was alone in the common room, and no one was around to see her go up the stairs. So she’d gone. And hesitated. And stood there, nervous.
The door swung open in front of her, nearly making her scream in surprise, and flooding the hallway with the light from inside. She jumped back, clutching her chest as her heart pounded, her hand fisted around her wand in case of any danger.
“Granger?” His voice was melodic, but confused as he looked up from the ground, to her face. “Can I help you?” He asked, staring her down as she tried to calm her thumping heart.
“I- no. No, I was just… returning this.” She held out the parchment with his notes on it, and offered a tight smile.
“At two in the morning?” He quirked a single brow, and stepped back, holding the door open for her, and not taking the notes. She took a large gulp of air, braced herself, and stepped into his room. He closed the door shut, and waved his wand at it. She saw the slight shimmer as the barrier settled in place, and swallowed nervously again.
“Shouldn’t you be in bed, Granger?” He needled her, finally taking the notes from her hand, and tossing them to his desk.
“I can’t sleep, anyway, so what’s the point?” She shot back, crossing her arms defiantly across her chest.
“Ahh, so you’re here to spend your tortured nighttime hours more productively?” He said suggestively, stepping into her space with easy grace. Her eyes flickered to his lips, and she had to pry them away. The other night was flooding back to her, making it seem as though the past week hadn’t transpired, she’d never left his room, and he was ready to continue teasing her again, right here.
“I came to ask what you did with that damned suit. Filch spent the last couple days cleaning out the rest of that room, and it’d be an absolute shame if THAT thing made it past the cleanup.” She retorted, leaning against the door with more indifference than she felt.
“Oh?” he stalked away, opened a drawer in his desk, and pulled out the folded mass of leather. “This what you want?”
Her face flamed at the insinuation of his words, and she glared.
“I’d like to see it burn.” She muttered, aiming her glare at the leather.
“What if I told you… this isn’t what you think?” His smirk was full of secrets, and she studied first him, then the pile in his hands.
“What do you mean?” She inquired, eyeing him suspiciously. He stepped closer, and held out the garment. She drew away, not wanting to be attacked again.
“Try it on and find out.” He replied enigmatically, offering it to her. She eyed it, and then him. Was this just a ploy to get her to touch it, so he’d get to take it off of her again? Wasn’t that basically what she’d come for, anyway? His ‘help’?
“What did you do to it?” She asked, making a face at the black monster he offered.
“I owled the manufacturer.” He said, smirking, but explaining nothing. “Go ahead, Granger, it won’t bite.” He held it closer, and she nearly growled. She felt like a chicken, backing away from a bit of clothes, but the evil smile on his face didn’t bode well for her evening if she DID put it on. She wetted her lips, and looked at it, weighing her options. It had worked last time, and she did need to sleep sometime this week…
“Is it going to attack me again?” She asked, reaching out a tentative hand, and stopping just short of touching it. She still couldn’t believe it wouldn’t attack Malfoy, and felt like setting it on fire, just for it’s pickiness.
“No, you can choose whether or not to put it on.” He said, and lifted his arms, so her hand touched the cool leather. She gulped back her fear, and froze, waiting for him to be proven wrong. Nothing happened.
“So, what? You owled whoever made it, and got it FIXED?” She asked, plucking the edges from his grasp, and holding it out to inspect. Her breath left her in a rush, and she felt her eyes trying to bug out of her head. “What is this!?”
“I sent the other one back to him, so he could get it to whoever paid for it, and I ordered this.” He was grinning at the look on her face, and he thumped the back of the unfamiliar bodice she held up.
“You sent that thing BACK? It doesn’t belong in a school, Draco! And neither does this one!”
“I thought we weren’t friends, Granger?” He taunted, not missing her slip up. Dammit! She mentally pinched herself, and glared. “It won’t end up back in school, I warned him that if it does, I won’t be able to return it a second time.”
Hermione just grumbled wordlessly as she looked down at the new outfit.
“Have you tried it on, yet?” She asked belligerently, giving him a pointed look.
“Funny. I think you know it’s not for me, Granger.” He drawled, fixing her with a heated stare. “Want to try it?”
“What’s this one do?” She asked, turning it around to see the back, and then again to reinspect the front. It looked like a plain black strapless corset, with lacing up the back. There was no netting, no straps, and no buckles. Nothing to trap her in it if she decided to take it off.
“This one is very simple. Much less complicated than the other one, which is why it’s here so soon. Fewer enchantments for him to work through.” Malfoy answered.
“But still some enchantments?” Hermione asked quickly, catching the underlying meaning in his words.
“Of course. Impervious when worn, perfect sizing, and it IS still a bondage suit.” He was smirking again, and she wanted to slap it off of his face.
“What’s that mean, Malfoy? You wouldn’t spend as much as I assume this costs unless there was something special about it, and you were getting something from it. Is it spelled to make me do whatever you say?” She hissed suspiciously, looking over the back again.
“Put it on and find out, Granger.” He suggested, leaning back against his desk. She glared daggers at him, and then looked to the suit. “Were you disappointed last time you trusted me?”
His question brought her up short. No, she hadn’t been. He’d been lovely, and it was still getting on her nerves just how pleased she’d been with the results.
“No.” she mumbled, her face flaring red with her candor. He was smiling softly, waiting for her to make a decision. She huffed out a breath, and stalked to his bed, setting the corset down so she could undo the buttons of her shirt.
“Turn around.” She ordered, giving him another glare. She caught his eye roll, but he did as asked, turning his back to her, and busying himself with tidying up his desk.
Hermione pulled her shirt off, and looked at the bodice. It would be best to leave it laced, and slip it over her head, she decided, loosening the back, and pulling it on, wiggling slightly as the leather caught against her skin. When it was in place over her bra, she watched in wonder as the edges lengthened, forming a tight, short skirt overtop of her school pleats. She shuffled around, slipping out of her own skirt, and tugging the leather skirt down as far as could go without making the bodice slip off her chest. She reached behind her, and fumbled with the laces for a moment, before she gave up, realizing with a sigh, that this was part of the design.
“Malfoy.” She growled, calling his eyes back to her. She turned her back to him, “Tie it.”
She heard his footsteps approach, and his soft chuckle at her commanding tone. He began tugging at the laces, closing the leather over her skin, and she didn’t miss that his fingers brushed the bare skin as he went, tracing delicate patterns that made her back tingle. She felt his fingers make a swift movement over her bra, snapping it open with efficiency.
“Malfoy!” She snapped, turning her head to glare at him, and grabbing her chest.
“What? It’s a corset, you don’t need both.” He reasoned, a smile playing over his lips as his hands fell away. “All done.”
She sighed, and pulled the simple cotton bra out of the bodice and tossed it to her other clothes. She ignored his smirk and turned, stalking pridefully to the standing mirror in the corner of his room, to inspect her appearance. It fit perfectly, the corset neither loose, nor too tight. It pressed her cleavage together the same as the other, the sweetheart neckline enhancing the natural shape of them. The skirt came to just below the curve of her buttocks, if she bent at all, it would reveal her underpants.
“Too short?” He asked, standing next to her, and watching her tug self-consciously at the hem.
“A bit.” She agreed. He pulled his wand out and drug it from her hip to her thigh, and under her scrutinizing gaze, the hem unrolled an inch and restitched itself, giving her the barest addition of cover.
“Better?” He asked, tucking his wand back in his pocket.
“Not really.” She grumbled, tugging at it again, only resulting in revealing more of her breasts. She thought back to the way he’d played with his shirt, tugging it from her chest to her hips, doing the exact thing this dress was doing now. If she’d harbored any doubt about him having it designed for her, there was none now.
“Here, this might help, put your arms back like this.” He took one wrist and gently guided it behind her back, and she followed with the other one, curious how THIS could possibly help. She felt the cool leather circle her wrists, and tighten instantly, too fast for her to evade, the jerk of her arms meeting resistance as her wrists were secured to the back of the bodice.
He met her eyes in the mirror with a mischievous smile.
“You wanted to know what the trick was? This is it.” He was grinning at his obvious triumph, and she glared, irritated by the trap.
“Let me out of this, Malfoy.” She demanded, but he stepped away, reopened the desk drawer, and pulled out another strip of leather. She recognized it as a collar instantly, and backed away, stumbling to keep her balance without the use of her arms.
“Now, Granger, this is how the game is played. All that dress does is bind your arms. THIS, does the rest. It won’t close without your permission, but it won’t come off without mine. So, you have to agree to let me put it on you, and then convince me you deserve to have it taken off again.”
“I don’t want it on at all!” She snapped as he stepped toward her. She could kick him, she supposed, but she might fall over. Then he’d be looming over her with a wand. She kept her feet firmly planted on the ground.
“Don’t you want to see what the completed outfit looks like on you?” He trailed his fingers along her upper arm, turning her to face the mirror again. He leaned into her side and whispered in her ear, “Don’t you want to see what I imagine when I look at you?”
Her heart stuttered, and her breath faltered, her eyes skimming down her own body, trying to see it as he would. Slim curves accentuated by black leather, obscene cleavage that threatened to spill out, a skirt that was riding up, revealing smooth, shapely legs. If she was honest with herself, she DID want to see it with the collar, her curiosity insatiable after his whispered words. What did she look like in Draco Malfoy’s imagination? Was she really this sexy to him?
His hand had circled around her back, his arm resting just below hers as his fingers wrapped around the other side of her, and his eyes flashed to hers in the glass, making sure she was watching, taking in how she looked with herself half-bound, his hand resting possessively on her hip.
“Come on, Granger. Play with me?” he leaned in slowly and brushed her hair from her shoulder, pressing his lips to her bare skin, trailing hot kisses up her neck at a leisurely pace.
“Are you going to force me to have sex with you?” She asked bluntly, feeling the arousal already pooling in her belly.
“Do you want me to?” He murmured, squeezing her hip as he nibbled at her ear and nuzzled her jaw.
“No.” She replied with half the conviction she’d meant to have. She could feel him pressing into her back, and it was making a very convincing argument.
“Do you want me to otherwise coerce you into fucking me?” He asked, his voice leading, and she knew what he was expecting. He expected her to say ‘no’, so he could reply ‘then I won’t.’ Just like he had the other night, he would stop where she wanted, respect her boundaries, and only push so far.
“Maybe.” She mumbled, her face burning, her eyes dropping to his hand on her side, so she wouldn’t have to look him in the eyes as he looked up.
“Would you like to try the collar on, and see where things go?” He offered, holding up the piece in question.
“Maybe.” She repeated, her face darkening.
“I need a ‘yes’, Granger.” He breathed into her ear, rubbing his nose up and down the curve. Her lips were dry, and her voice was barely a whisper past them.
“...Yes.”
He pressed the leather to her throat gently, and it circled around her nape, securing with a cold silver buckle beneath her chin.
“Good girl.” Draco smiled cheerfully at her. She glared at him addressing her like a pet, but said nothing as he turned and stalked back toward the desk once more. Her eyes followed him for a moment before they were drawn back to the mirror. She turned slightly, inspecting herself in the deviant costume. She looked like an absolute pervert, the dark leather making her skin seem nearly white in contrast, and her curves making it gleam in the dim light, accentuating the way she was shaped. The collar was a thick black strip against the pale expanse of skin from her face to her breasts, making her feel both overdressed, and completely uncovered.
“One last touch.” Draco was next to her again, grinning mischievously. He had ahold of the collar before she could back away, and she tried futilely to see what he was doing, but heard only the soft clinking of more metal until he moved aside, so she could see herself in the mirror once more.
“What is it?” She asked, taking a step closer to inspect the little silver disk hanging from the buckle. “Is that… Did you put a tag on me!? What does it say?” She demanded, feeling furious at his continued regard of her as an animal. She moved closer to the mirror, trying to read the engraving. He pulled her away by the arm, keeping her from reading it, his lips still twisted up in a smirk.
“Is there anything it could say that wouldn’t anger you?” He asked rhetorically, flicking it with his finger to make it jingle again. “Anyway, now that you’re all dressed, we can get on with things.” His smirk widened, and she felt her stomach lurch. That grin did not bode well. Had she misplaced her trust in him one too many times? No one had seen her go up tonight, so no one would know where she was.
“Let me go.” She demanded, yanking at her arms, and glaring at him in an attempt to hide her sudden fear. He pulled out his wand, and she stumbled backward, eyeing it warily. “You wouldn’t dare…”
“Come here, Granger, and I’ll show you what bit of magic the collar does.” He cajoled, twirling his wand idly between his fingers, waiting for her to obey. She hesitated, eying the door, wondering if she’d prefer to try getting out herself, possibly to her own eternal shame if anyone else saw her dress, or if it was stupid of her to trust him. She was practically defenseless, and he wasn’t cursing her. He wasn’t forcing her to her knees. He was asking her to let him demonstrate more of the leather’s magic. Wasn’t that proof that he wasn’t going to hurt her?
She took two steps toward him, and he waited patiently for her to come closer, saying nothing as he watched her tiptoe to him, step by cautious step. She stopped in front of him, trying not to look fearful or worried. He tapped his wand to the collar three times, and she had time only to gasp as the magic tingled across her skin, and the collar seemed to duplicate, three different tendrils of thick leather stretched away from her neck, the first snapping off to secure itself around her face, covering her mouth, and cutting her gasp off, keeping her from voicing any further displeasure as the two other tendrils fell down her legs, wrapping around her knees and ankles, pulling them together, and pulling her off balance as she was trussed up.
She let out an involuntary squeal of panic as she fell backward. She closed her eyes, bracing for the impact, and felt arms catch her, sweeping her into the air, and cradling her to a warm chest.
She opened her eyes and looked up into the stormy eyes of both her savior, and her imprisoner. She offered him another irritated glare, and wiggled, making muffled protests. One arm was under her knees, the other was under her back, and she felt totally helpless as he ignored her wordless complaints, and carried her the few steps to his large bed.
“Hush, Granger. I’m not taking it off, so you might as well stop trying to scold me.” He advised as he set her gently atop the blankets, and climbed on top of her. He straddled her hips, pinning her down with ease, and leaned over her, staring down at her bound and gagged form.
“I bet you’re terrified right now.” He murmured, stroking a knuckle across her temple. “Have you ever been this powerless before, Granger? Awake, aware, and completely defenseless…”
She struggled underneath him, nearly managing to knock him off her, to prove that she wasn’t powerless. She was never powerless. Even as he aimed his wand at her again, settled more of his weight to keep her pinned, and smirked evilly down at her, she didn’t dare let him think her powerless.
“There’s no reason for you to be afraid, Granger. No cause for you to struggle, or fight me. You know I’m not going to hurt you.” He murmured, trailing the tip of his wand along her breasts, and up her chest to the collar. He tapped it once, and tingles shot out of it, trailing down the path his wand had just traced, catching her off guard with the enjoyable sensation.
He began drawing another pattern with his wand, this time along her belly, the slow movements familiar, but strange. It took her a moment to realize he was spelling out words across her abdomen, writing something invisible through the corset that she couldn’t properly feel.
“MmmMm?” She tried to ask what he was writing through the strip of leather that covered her mouth, and though it came out as nothing more than humming, he seemed to understand.
“Shall I start over, so you can try to figure it out?” He gave a tap of his wand to the corset, pausing her answer with another shock of trailing heat. It almost tickled, but when it stopped, she nodded, curious what on earth he’d want to write on her, and taking a moment to look down at her chest, to see if his patterns left marks. Nothing on her chest indicated that he’d done any magic, and as he touched the tip of his wand back to the leather, she lowered her eyes further, watching as he drew the first letter, and pulled his wand away before starting the second. O? D, maybe? Was he writing for her, or for himself? Were the letters upside down? Capitalized? The second was lines and curves, the third was all straight lines, maybe and A or an H, she thought. She couldn’t decide, and he was already on the fourth letter, a half circle, a C, and he was writing for himself! So she needed to turn them around. As he drew a circle slowly, she thought of the first few. D-R-A-C-O-, but he was still going, a short vertical line, and a curvy S. ‘Draco’s’. Of course he’d spell that on her. He tapped his wand again, and lit the possessive noun with feeling, letting her feel each letter prickle across her stomach.
“Easy enough? Want something more difficult?” He proposed, a challenge in his voice. She nodded, glad for a moment that she was unable to speak. She wasn’t even sure what she would’ve been expected to SAY to him writing his name on her.
His lips twitched sadistically, and he was scrawling a new pattern across her cleavage, too close for her to see properly, and too fast for her to make out more than a few letters. She hummed that he was going too fast, but he just grinned, and tapped the top of her breast, letting the tickling sensation curl over her skin once more, just as fast as he’d written, making whatever he’d scrawled indecipherable.
She glared up at him for his foul play, and he let out a chuckle, leaning close to her face.
“Want me to spell out what this says?” He flicked the silver tag, purposefully riling her. She growled at him, but nodded all the same, hoping he’d play this one a bit more fair. If she was going to wear it, she needed to know what it said about her. What he thought of her.
He began spelling, and she nearly sighed with relief as he wrote slowly and distinctly, spelling out the first familiar word, and paused before he wrote the second, shorter word.
‘Draco’s pet.’
She gawked up at him, unsure whether she was more angry, or more stunned at his ballsy ploy. Again, with the animal analogy, she hummed in dissatisfaction, and wriggled underneath him, expressing her anger.
“You don’t like it?”
“MM!”
“But look at you. You’ve got my collar on. I’m playing with you, taking care of you. What else would you call yourself?” He asked saucily, and leaned in once more, bracing his hands on either side of her shoulders as he bent his head next to hers to whisper in her ear. “Though, I suppose most people don’t want to fuck their pets.”
She went still underneath him, suddenly aware of every bare inch of skin, and how her upset wiggling might be arousing to him. His words were no big surprise, it was fairly obvious last week that he’d like to have sex with her, but hearing him say it aloud was shocking, and sent a surprising amount of heat directly to her knickers. She could recall with perfect clarity the last time he’d had such an urge. The way he’d touched her, kissed her, made her writhe, and pant, and want more.
“I love that look in your eyes.” He was leaning back up, staring into her chocolatey eyes with appreciation, “The look that says you want me, too.”
She squirmed uncomfortably under his gaze, and turned her face away, her cheeks blazing with mortification. Had she really been looking at him like he said? With the heat flooding her, it wasn’t hard to believe. He took the opportunity of her turned head to kiss his way along her neck, down her collarbone, and back to her ear. She let her eyes fall closed and her thoughts fade, simply enjoying the feeling of his lips on her, since she couldn’t do much else, anyway. His tongue was damp, and left a quickly cooling trail along her throat. His head dipped lower, his lips making their way down her chest, over the swell of each breast, and his legs shuffled backward, allowing him to sit on her thighs, and bring his hands down to her hips as he finally raised his head.
“Are you still wearing your knickers?” His voice was low, inquisitive, and she couldn’t stop her head from nodding up and down in answer, despite how random the question seemed. His hands were sliding up her thighs, pushing the skirt up at a torturously slow pace. “They don’t really go with the dress, do they?” His tone was beguiling, and she felt her head shaking as she remembered what she wore. The light green cotton really didn’t match the leather at all. His fingers slid underneath the bunched skirt, finding the fabric, and looping around the sides, pulling them down just as slowly, his eyes fixed on hers with every unhurried movement. She turned her face from him again, not able to meet those stormy orbs as he took off her last piece of normal clothing.
“Lift your hips for me, pet.” He ordered quietly, sitting up so she could push upward. She did as he asked, and felt the underwear slip down her thighs unhindered, aided along by her own movement. How pliable she’d become after just a few touches! She whined in discomfort and squeezed her thighs tighter together, halting the removal. To her surprise, he let them go, leaving them exposed beneath the short leather skirt. She relaxed a bit, and stared down at him defiantly. She wasn’t his pet, and he wasn’t going to make her an easy lay with just a few kisses.
“The collar has one more surprise. Want to see what it is?” He was grinning wickedly again, and she kept her head very still, not wanting to agree on accident. She deepened her frown, and he laughed softly. “You’ll love it, I promise.”
She shrugged as best she could, giving him the go-ahead without actually agreeing that she was curious. He swung his leg over her, no longer straddling her thighs, but lied down next to her, making himself comfortable as he propped his head up to be able to watch her, and readied his wand above her throat.
“Ready? Take a deep breath.” He suggested. She looked at him with worry, but immediately filled her lungs. He gently tapped the leather, and a loud moan filled the room. The large breath she’d taken was released with pure ecstasy, as pleasure shot from the collar straight through her breasts, circling her nipples, and down her stomach to lap in waves at her womanhood. Wave after wave washed over her, powerful and relentless. She felt her back arching, her muscles tensing as she reached a very quick climax.
She could hear her own voice still whimpering as she regained her senses, her muscles twitching with overstimulation as the pleasure kept assaulting her body, and then, he was looming over her, the pleasure halted as he tapped his wand to the collar, and she was panting, sweaty, and sated.
“I promised you’d love it.” He boasted, dropping a kiss to her sweat-slicked forehead, and grinning widely at his obvious victory. “Imagine, though, Granger: that was just a fraction. A light sampling of what you could feel.”
She stared up at him with no small trace of horror. That was ‘small’? How much more was there? What exactly would ‘all’ feel like? His smile only widened at the anxious look on her face.
“Do you remember what my fingers felt like inside you? How much better my mouth was? The magic in that leather has NOTHING on me, Granger.” He vowed, licking his lips pointedly. She did remember, and at the mention of it, her orgasm suddenly felt hollow. She was only half-sated, and she wanted more. Her center was still aching, and she felt like an absolute pervert as she realized she wanted something inside her.
As she was thrown into desire all over again, and back into the memory, he slid down her, his fingertips skimming the leather, and then the bare skin of her thighs. He took hold of her legs, and tapped his wand gently to the strap that held her knees together, making it vanish into thin air. She realized just what he was doing as he slid her knickers to her ankles, and she clamped her knees together, a moment too late to stop him, but held them firmly, to keep him from getting between her legs.
He smirked devilishly up at her, and she once again thought about kicking him. She hated that his teasing was making her want him even more. When he lowered his face to her legs, she hummed a muffled question, but he didn’t answer, simply gripped the back of her knee, and kissed just above the joint. She let her eyes fall closed as he continued, kissing his way slowly up her thigh, his hand sliding up the back as his lips caressed her over and over. She was so lost in the warmth of his mouth, she didn’t even notice the discreet tap he gave her ankles, or the way her legs were spreading easily under his ministrations, inviting him right to their apex.
When his kisses finally fell to her sex, she groaned through the gag, and risked a peek down at him. His blond crown was nestled between her thighs, his mouth pressed into her, and his eyes were closed, like she was a treat to be savored. His eyes popped open, as if he knew she was watching, and caught her gaze in a heartbeat, molten silver making her squirm ashamedly. She squeezed her eyes closed, unable to linger on that gaze, and tried to enjoy the sensations his tongue was creating, without thinking too hard about him watching her enjoy it. When the soft prodding of his fingers joined the feeling, she nearly sighed with relief, glad that he seemed to know what she wanted most. He slid them in and out of her slowly, his lips suckling gently, his tongue flicking expertly, and she felt another climax on the rise.
Before she could get too close, he pulled away, and she growled wordlessly at him, her eyes popping open to glare down at his eager face.
“Patient, pet…” He murmured, pressing another swift kiss to her thigh as he sat up, and pulled his shirt off, not bothering to unbutton it more than necessary to pull it over his head. Hermione watched the black fabric sail over the edge of the bed, and watched silently as he undid his belt, and trousers, sliding them off, and leaving him in only his boxers. She stayed very still, pretending that he wouldn’t notice her scrutiny if she didn’t move. But notice he did, watching her stare at him, her eyes filled with lust. She waited for him to remove his boxers too, positive that this was the moment he would end the pretense, and simply have his way with her.
She was ready to reluctantly enjoy him pushing her that far, ready to be furious with him afterward, and was completely surprised when he left that single article of clothing on, and leaned over her, letting one of his hands skim her thigh as he bent his head to kiss her cleavage, collarbone, and jaw. She felt a sharp stab of disappointment, but didn’t dare protest. If he knew exactly how much she wanted it, she’d be mortified.
“I can see the disappointment in your eyes. Do you really want me to shag you that badly? Are you just burning with the need to have me inside you?” He ignored the vehement shaking of her head, looped a finger around her collar, and pulled her straight up into a sitting position, keeping her stable with his hands holding her upper arms.
“You don’t want me to fuck you, you just want me to keep getting you off?” He murmured vulgarly into her ear, sliding his hips across her thighs, letting his covered erection rub against her corset-clad stomach. She glared at him, not wanting to admit that she’d like either option, but her cheeks flushed a dark red, betraying her shameful desires.
“Alright, I think we can work something out…” He granted, smiling benevolently down at her. He carefully directed her to trade places with him, helping her straddle him without falling, while he lied back, keeping his hands on her hips. She stared down at him for several moments, taking in his reclining torso, the silver flame flickering in his eyes as he, too, looked at her atop him. With her thighs covering his hips, it looked as though he was nude, and Hermione didn’t miss that in this new position, the leather skirt that had been slowly riding up was doing absolutely nothing to hide her completely bare privates. Her privates that were dangerously close to his.
“Sit back.” He pressed his thumbs into her abdomen, guiding her into a sitting position, and he bit his lip hungrily as her sex pressed into his boxers. She could feel the warmth of his erection, the stiffness of it pressing along her soft folds. “Move your hips back and forth, and pleasure yourself.” He encouraged, letting his hands slide to her thighs, so she could move unhindered. She felt her face heating to a flaming red once again, and hesitated, staring down at him, debating with herself.
She wanted the orgasm he’d denied her, he wanted gratification as well. She knew that this position wouldn’t give her the penetrating pleasure she wanted, but she’d denied wanting to have sex, so… wasn’t this the best alternative he could offer that would please both of them? With her hands still secured behind her back, she couldn’t remove his boxers for him. With her mouth covered by leather, she couldn’t tell him she was just ashamed to admit she’d be okay with more.
She tilted her hips slowly, closing her eyes to the piercing grey gaze that watched her, submerging herself into a dark world of touch and sound. She dragged her hips back and forth over his, rubbing her mound against the hardness of his shaft. She could hear the soft sounds of his breathing, the small gasps he gave in pleasure, she soft rustle of sheets as she moved. She could feel his fingers dig into her flesh a bit when he particularly enjoyed her ministrations, and she could feel the way his pelvis tilted into the motions, creating more friction.
She cracked her eyelids open, and peeked down at him, taking even more pleasure in the sight of him so enthralled. His expression was one of pure bliss, his eyes were flickering up and down her form, like he couldn’t choose which part of her he wanted to look at most. He stared at her face a moment, then her heaving breasts, then her rocking hips, and where they were pressed together, then back to her face. She could feel her own wetness soaking his underwear, but couldn’t summon more than a passing remorse for them. She was enjoying herself too much to care about the state of his pants, but was a little disappointed when he didn’t seem equally careless.
“Hold on a moment, let me get these out of the way…” He grunted, his hands slipping beneath her, to push the fabric down. She held herself precariously over him as he shimmied the boxer shorts down, and as soon as his hands were out of the way, she retook her position, glad to not be balancing without use of her arms any longer. The feel of his bare skin rubbing hers was nearly intoxicating, the thought that nothing now separated them was heady, and she let her eyes stay open, staring down at what she could see of his cock as she slid over it, revealing bits of it at a time.
She felt licentious, watching herself ride him in such a fashion, her heart racing at the thought of being so very close to losing her virginity, but still just this side of innocent. She chanced a glance up to Draco’s face, and saw him watching the movement with just as much fascination as she had been. His bottom lip was slipping from between his teeth, where he’d been biting it, his eyebrows were pulled together in an intense concentration. She watched his hand slip between their bodies once more, and lifted her hips as his knuckles brushed her, and he gripped himself. She sat back a bit, so she could see him holding the base of his shaft, and presenting it upright, holding it there, waiting. His eyes were locked on her face now, and she looked from his stormy grey eyes to the offered phallus. He was leaving it up to her just how far she wanted to go. She could barely hear her own breathing through her heartbeat, and the rush of adrenaline thrilled through her veins with every pulse.
She moved back into place, and held herself there a moment, searching his eyes as she held herself on the brink of making her decision. He waited, holding himself in place, his eyes searching hers in return, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, his chest rising quickly with each hurried breath. He was eager, a bit nervous, and uncomplaining of her hesitation.
“You don’t have to, if you don’t want to.” He whispered, his voice sounding a bit choked as he noted her own nerves.
“MmM.” She hummed in understanding, nodding her head once. It was his considerate tone that made up her mind. She let her knees slip apart, bringing her core down over him, slowly taking in the feel of his cock filling her. The pain she’d expected was a mere mild discomfort of feeling stretched, and over so quickly she was left with only the sensation of fullness, and the exhilarating knowledge of what she’d just done. Draco, it seemed, couldn’t decide whether to give in, and close his eyes to fully enjoy the heat of her, or to keep them pried open, and watch as he disappeared inside her.
She paused, and slid back up, testing the motion, and watching his head fall back as his hands gripped her hips. He looked almost tortured, and she slid back down, enjoying the simple power she seemed to hold over him. It was much more filling than his fingers had been, and every movement she made made her very aware that he was inside her.
She shifted her hips a few more times, letting out her own groan of pleasure. She hadn’t even realized she’d closed her eyes until a movement caused her to open them again. He was sitting up slightly, reaching for his wand, his eyes locked on her with passion as he gave two sharp taps to her corset with the wooden tip. He let the wand slip out of his fingers as he moved his palm back to her bared skin, and she felt the straps holding her arms and mouth evaporate. With her mouth free, she pulled in deeper breaths, making quiet pants of enjoyments as her lungs tried to keep up with her movement. She pulled her hands forward, and braced them on his chest, using his body as leverage to move her hips in a wider arc.
She’d been positive that when he released her bondage, she’d shout at him, get angry with him trussing her up in the first place, but all she found she wanted to do was wring every ounce of pleasure from him she possibly could. She leaned over him, taking advantage of her uncovered lips to kiss him, letting her chest rest against his as she let her hands slide into his hair, gripping him firmly as she gratified herself. He kissed her back just as ardently, his tongue fighting with hers, his hips thrusting up into her as she came down, his hands circling to pull her skirt completely up, and grip her bum. He sat up again, pulling her with him, never breaking the kiss as he began tugging at the strings that held the magical leather onto her. Faster than she’d have thought possible, he was pulling it over her head, and unfastening the collar, tossing both to the floor, leaving her just as naked as him, and totally bare for his hands to explore. His hands fondled her bare breasts briefly, and then he grabbed her by the waist, and rolled her onto her back.
She instinctively wrapped her legs around his hips, her arms around his shoulders, and let out an involuntary squeal of surprise, which he gave a small chuckle at, and kissed away any words she might have formed, driving his hips into her with quick snapping force. Her surprise quickly turned to pure thoughtless bliss as she clung to him, her hips still moving against his, her breathing coming in shorter bursts than ever, her body moving on it’s own, her mind a lustful pile of mush against the onslaught.
She reached her climax swiftly, tensing around him, her mewling moans echoing off the walls, her nails digging into his shoulders as he pulled out, and rubbed his cock against the sensitive nub of her womanhood, bringing her to another shaking orgasm as he came across her abdomen.
They both stilled, trying to catch their breath, shaky, and covered in sweat, and Hermione’s thoughts finally trickled back into her head. She could smell the sweat, the sex, the lingering scent of leather, and she found it enjoyable. She could feel tiny trails of sweat sliding down her skin, she could feel the heat between their bodies like a sauna, and she could hear his breath heaving near her ear. He leaned up on shaky arms and smiled down at her, his face, neck, and chest flushed, his grey eyes twinkling dimly with emotion as his gaze traced her features.
“That’s… not at all what I thought it would be like.” Hermione managed to croak, thinking back to her virginal fantasies of making love, slow, aware, and stingingly painful for her.
“Better or- wait… You mean, this was your first…?” He looked a bit horrified, then possessively pleased, and then worried. “Are you alright?”
“Just fine. It didn’t hurt at all, actually.” She said, grinning, feeling as though it were an accomplishment to be proud of. She’d heard too many women describe how very unpleasant it had been for them, and was glad it hadn’t been that way for her.
“Oh, that was probably the dress. It’s spelled to leech my magic to heal any of your pain or discomfort. I added that bit myself, so your arms wouldn’t go numb behind your back so long.” He panted, rolling to the side, but keeping one leg draped over hers, letting his fingers trail along one of her shoulders intimately. She basked in the gentle touch, and the thoughtfulness of his charm, the gentle way his eyes were skimming her.
“How did it compare to your fantasies, then, Granger?” He asked curiously, brushing a few sweat-slicked strands of hair from her forehead.
“...It was much more intense.” She answered, feeling strange thinking about just how blank her mind had gone, how very exhausting the motions had been. Her eyes wanted to droop shut, and her muscles felt as though she’d have trouble leaving his side. “Much more taxing. I should probably get to bed…”
“You could sleep here.” He sounded playful, but one look at him and she could see the invitation was very real. He looked in just as big a rush to move as she felt. His head was drooping to the pillow next to hers, his hand had gone still, his arm resting across her ribs. It WOULD be easy for them to just drift off, heedless of consequence.
“I could, but I’d have to walk back to my own room in the morning, past dozens of judgemental stares.” She yawned, and forced herself to sit up, feeling the sweat on her skin already beginning to cool, and leave her chilly.
“Bah, not dozens. Maybe four if you sleep in. You know you’re usually the first one awake.” He mumbled, rolling into a sitting position of his own, letting his fingers trail up her back.
“Only because I hardly sleep in the first place.” She argued, not wanting to admit that she’d likely sleep like the dead tonight. He already seemed pleased enough with himself.
“Me too.” He admitted, his voice quiet, more solemn. She looked back at him, seeing the dark shadow of the war on his face, the heaviness with which his hand dropped back to the bed. Silver eyes met hers, and she was shaken by just how sincere he looked. “Please stay?”
She stared into the grey depths of his soul for several minutes, thinking over what they’d just shared, the vulnerability he was showing. If she left, he’d likely never offer this openness again, and she could pretend it had never happened, pretend she still distrusted him.
“I’ll need something to sleep in.” She surrendered, bringing her knees to her chest, covering the majority of her nakedness.
“Well, I’ve got a whole bed you can sleep in.” He quipped, his smile lighting up his face in a way she’d never seen. It wasn’t a smirk, and it had no hidden intentions, simply playful delight.
“Haha, very funny.” She rolled her eyes at him, but he was already sliding his legs under the blanket, without bothering to find even any shorts.
“You’ve never slept naked?” He asked, tugging the covers over her, as well. She sighed, and flopped back onto the pillow, giving in to his indecency.
“No, I haven’t.” She answered, feeling rather stiff as he shuffled, getting comfortable.
“Well, tonight’s a night for all sorts of new experiences, isn’t it?” he bantered, sliding his hand casually over her stomach. “Come here.”
She scooted against him, allowing him to pull her back against his front, and secretly enjoying how he buried his face in her hair, and left his arm wrapped just under her breasts, his legs spooning hers. It was perfectly warm, and just what she didn’t know she wanted, until she was in position, her head resting comfortably on a plush pillow, her mind already trying to drift into dreams.
“Goodnight, pet.” His voice drifted quietly over her head, and she heaved a deep sigh of contentment, not having the energy to get upset over the nickname.
“Goodnight, Draco.” She replied, half-asleep, comfy and warm.
“I thought we weren’t friends?” He teased, also sounding on the brink of unconsciousness.
“Of course we’re not.” She hummed back sarcastically, a small smile tilting up her lips as she fell asleep.
A/N: That's it. That's all of it, hope you liked this chapter! Leave a review with your thoughts, or comments!! :D
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