Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Quartet	By : OracleObscured Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 128263 -:- Recommendations : 5 -:- Currently Reading : 11
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any other characters/things/places created by J.K. Rowling. I make no money from my fan-fiction.

Chapter List
- 19
- 20
- 21
A/N:
Thunderbird: Thank you so much! And I’m glad to hear you’re enjoying my take on Hermione in this story (I’m never sure what’s going to alienate people). And I’m loving that I’ve got you thinking about the other men. (Mwhahahaha!) I can’t wait for you to see what’s coming up soon. :) Hope you enjoy <3
Setsuna24: Bahahaha! I think I need to join Hermione’s gym. No much more motivational. :) Good to hear your’e enjoying it. Thanks for reviewing <3
Dedicated_Reader: That’s so freaking hot/sweet :) You sound like a fun couple.
DS: Nope, ticks and tells was just me being too alliterative for my own good. :) And unfortunately I do not own this book (but it makes me want to write one a la An Accidental Affair).
LissaDream: Hahahaha! Yeah, I have book issues too. It’s contagious. I hope your smut withdrawals have been remedied after this chapter :) (But there’s plenty to read between me and DS if you get antsy again.) I don’t really have time to beta right now; all my free time is spent trying to get my next chapter ready for posting (and I’m falling behind). If you join some of the fanfiction groups on FB you should be able to find some help. (Or just start asking in your A/N of whatever you’re posting.) Hope that helps you some. :) (email me if you can’t find anyone and I’ll help you look. Oracle obscured at gmail dot com. No spaces.)
20—Natural
“You take my self, you take my self-control.”—Laura Branigan
(Draco)
Draco bounded up the walk to Hermione’s flat and knocked on the door in a rapid fire burst of anxious energy. It felt as if eons had passed since he’d seen her last, and he was going absolutely mental. How was he supposed to make it the whole weekend without at least one kiss?
He was amazed how quickly he’d become addicted to her—her touch, her scent, her smile. His father was right, he was a needy little berk. The problem was that, even though he saw himself becoming more and more attached, he couldn’t resist. His mind constantly wandered to his bushy-haired belle. Even when he slept, her face filled his dreams.
This was not normal for him. Usually flirting was nothing more than entertainment. He’d become adept at stringing witches along until they no longer served his needs; then he cut them loose and went in search of the next prize. Catch and release. Although he wanted a love that lasted, he was always disappointed by the girls he took home. Sure, they were sexy and fun, but none of them could hold his interest. And deep down he knew why.
They weren’t Granger.
For the first time in his life, his dreams were coming true, but he was baffled by the surreal quality his waking moments had taken on in the past couple of weeks. Being with her had the odd effect of elongating each second while simultaneously skipping over whole hours as if they were no more than minutes. He could spend an entire day staring into her eyes, but that day would be over before he could blink. Time was so unfair. And the weekends were even more unfair. How was he supposed to just forget her until Monday? The very notion was inconceivable.
The door swung open and Hermione, dressed in a ratty old shirt and joggers, appeared before him like a frizzy mirage. His ink-blotted angel. Why did she have quills stuck in her messy ponytail? Did she bring home work? Usually she stayed late to finish everything so she wouldn’t worry about it.
“Draco!” she said with a huge smile.
Well that was a good sign. “Hey, Granger. Have I come at a bad time?” He gestured at her hair.
She reached up as if she didn’t know what he meant and seemed surprised to find the quills. Pulling one out, she studied it critically. “So that’s where they all went. No, it’s not a bad time. I’m just reading.”
Draco followed her in and went over to the couch, where a book was sitting open on the coffee table, surrounded by sheaves of parchment that had been completely obliterated by Hermione’s indecipherable shorthand. There was a pile of balled up paper stacked like snowballs to one side, and several were strewn over the floor as if Crookshanks had been using them for batting practice.
Something must have really snagged her brain, because only an all-consuming obsession could blind Hermione to such disorder. Everything was always neat and tidy unless she had a particularly troublesome case to deal with—then he’d find her buried under mounds of paperwork, scribbling out notes as if her life depended on it. But he knew that couldn’t be the situation this time; he’d been attentively following her ongoing sagas at work, and he knew she’d wrapped up her latest crisis. As she peered into the reflective surface of a mirrored picture frame on the wall, working the ink spots off her nose with her thumb, Draco sank into his usual seat and picked up her book to see what had her so engrossed.
Bloody hell.
“What’s this, Granger?” he asked with a leer. “I thought you said you were reading.”
“I was. Hey! Put that back. You’re going to lose my place.”
“Your place.” Draco repeated, laughing as he flipped through the chapters. “I wouldn’t want you to lose your place. Merlin’s beard, Hermione. This is really kinky. Are you into all this?”
Hermione slid into the seat next to him, her teeth sinking into her lower lip and her brow contracting as if she were perplexed by the most confounding of mysteries. “I was just thinking.”
“Thinking? Like with your hand down your knickers?”
She smirked. “No. Draco . . . may I ask you a personal question?”
“I suppose.”
“Have you ever done . . . this before?” She reached over and turned a few pages back.
Malfoy tried to keep a straight face but didn't quite succeed. She seemed quite serious, as if this were an important subject she intended to get a firm handle on. “No, I’ve never been a boot licker.”
“No, the other page.”
Snickering, he checked the opposite illustration. “Ah. Yes. I’ve had several witches sit on my face.”
“How did you breathe?”
Draco burst into guffaws, unprepared for her earnest interrogation. “You do your best. I just tip back my head until my nose is free. But being smothered by pussy isn't as bad as it sounds. It's a bit of a rush.”
She inclined her head in studious understanding. “Oh. Have you ever done any of this other stuff?”
“You mean have I ever been some witch’s subbie?”
She nodded.
“No. Most of the witches I’ve been with like me to be in charge. Why . . . did you want to try it?” Please say yes, please say yes, please say yes!
“Have you ever thought about doing it before?”
He took a deep breath. No one had ever asked about his fantasies as much as she had, which was bizarrely terrifying as well as exciting. He wanted her to know, he just wished he didn’t have to be the one to tell her. It wasn’t easy to blurt one’s most guarded secrets. “I’ve thought about lots of things.”
“Like what?”
He quickly debated how much to confess. She seemed open to the idea, but maybe she was just curious. “I’ve thought about being tied up. I’ve thought about a witch ordering me around. I’ve thought about a witch . . . beating my bum.”
She smiled. “Like spanking? Or with something like a paddle?”
At least she wasn’t weirded out. “Both.”
“Do you want to try it out and see what it’s like? With me I mean.”
Was this conversation seriously happening? “You want to top me?”
“I’m not sure. I’ve never done it before. I kind of just want to see what it’s like. Maybe I’ll hate it . . . or maybe I’ll feel completely ridiculous. But I would like to have a wizard under my control for a bit.”
His cock wanted her to be in control for a bit too. Or forever. “What do you want to try?”
“What do you want to try? What turns you on the most?”
He couldn’t tell her. That was too much revelation for one day. There was kinky and then there was personal, and while the former was mildly embarrassing to say out loud, the latter tied his tongue into a neat bow of self-preservation. But he felt safe listing some of his more conventional ideas. “Besides the restraint, I’ve thought about begging and orgasm denial. Maybe some light whipping.”
“I don’t have a whip. What about humiliation? Are you okay with crawling and mild sexual shaming? What about me sitting on your face?”
If she wanted to sit on his face permanently, he was fine with that. “Yeah, that sounds good.”
“What do you want your safe word to be?”
“I'll stick with Firebolt.”
She smiled. “Okay. Let me go get some things ready. I think I’m going to have to change my clothes to get in character.”
“If this gets too weird for you, I’ll understand.”
Hermione leaned over and kissed his cheek. “You too. If you don’t like it, just tell me.”
Draco pulled her back in and kissed her lips properly. “I missed you.”
Her smile returned, brighter than the sun. “I missed you too. Is that why you came over?”
He shrugged and nodded.
“I’m glad you’re here.”
Draco grinned. Good.
“Be right back,” she said and patted his leg before dashing away.
Malfoy stayed put, listening to her moving things around in her room, opening drawers, running to the loo. Well this was an unexpected turn of events. He’d just been hoping for some snogging and a hug. But—somehow—things had gone wonderfully off course. Pinching the side of his leg, he made sure he wasn’t dreaming. Draco wasn’t sure if that really worked or not, but he definitely felt it. Not a dream—just the most perfect afternoon in the history of the world.
He recalled the first time he’d seen her stomping through the halls of the Ministry, her arms laden with an enormous stack of files as she lectured the man beside her with the full force of her fury, apparently incensed that the man had the gall to suggest barring werewolf orphans from the children’s home. Draco had watched the reaming from a distance, a small smile on his face. She was just as feisty as she’d been at school, and that demanding tone in her voice took him back to the days of prefect meetings and inter-house competition, before his life had gone so horribly wrong. It might have just been nostalgia, but he suspected there was some subconscious reason he’d approached her in the canteen that day. Maybe he wanted her to yell at him too. Maybe he wanted to make amends. Maybe he just wanted some of her fury to shine on him for a moment so he could feel something again.
But he’d gotten so much more than than he’d bargained for. Underneath all that mad hair and fierce fire was a witch who honestly cared about everyone. Even him. It was a relief to know there were people like her in the world, people who weren’t just out for themselves, people who could forgive and move on. It gave him some hope of redemption—something to aspire to.
And he knew that was part of his addiction. Hermione made him work harder, she made him push himself. Back at Hogwarts that had resulted in a war for the highest marks, but now it was something less tangible. He wanted to show her he was the kind of man who could make her happy, the kind of man she could be proud of.
But he didn’t really know how achieve that goal. Of course he had some ideas, but Hermione wasn’t like other witches, so the usual Draco magic would not be sufficient. He might actually have to—Draco grimaced—be honest with her. The thought of it made his stomach turn.
It wasn’t that he ever purposely lied to her . . . he just omitted certain things to protect himself—like any good Slytherin would. There was an art to verbal exclusion; for instance, he could go on for hours about work or hobbies or his latest date. Those were safe topics. And all that talking made him sound much more open than he really was.
He became far more selective about heavier subjects; that didn’t mean lying, it just meant choosing his words carefully. Talking about his mother was still a sore spot, and even though he complained about his father, he never discussed their actual issues. He avoided pretty much all conversation about the war and his time as a Death Eater; just thinking about it brought on a bout of nausea. And he most definitely watched his tongue when revealing his feelings concerning a certain bushy-haired Gryffindor.
He tried to tell her the truth—he really did. But he always stopped short, leaving the most crucial pieces of information unsaid.
And he knew why.
Sheer terror.
If she didn’t return his sentiments, he didn’t know how he could go on. She had become his guiding light, and he needed her illumination to find his way out of the shadows of his past.
There was just too much risk. Once he figured out how she really felt about him, he’d open up to her. But her obvious desire for Snape and his father made him hesitate. Part of him understood her need to let loose—she’d been holding in a whole lot of sexual tension over the years . . . more than he could have ever imagined. And Draco hadn’t been living a life of monogamy, so he couldn’t claim any kind of moral high ground. Sometimes you just had to get the shagging out of your system.
But he'd be ready to swoop in and catch her when she finally wore herself out.
Draco took a deep breath and adjusted his cock before it could get any harder. His body was oscillating back and forth between heart-pounding panic and rock-hard excitement. Part of him was worried everything would go balls up and his fantasies would be shattered. He was gambling on her care and compassion, praying that his submissive tendencies wouldn’t repel her and destroy their budding romance.
And how could he have said no? Pretending that she hadn’t stumbled over one of his biggest turn-ons would have been impossible. And foolish. It wasn’t as if he had a waiting list of witches just dying to dominate him at a moment’s notice.
As if responding to his wavering resolve, Hermione suddenly reappeared . . . and Draco’s jaw fell into his lap. Sweet Circe! Gone were the joggers and T-shirt. In their place was a black lace bra and matching knickers. Black heels took the look from alluring to commanding. She’d pulled up her hair into a messy twist, but thin wisps framed her face and neck, making it look as if she’d already been shagged into disarray. Bloody hell, she was sexy.
She must have noticed his reaction, because her posture went from unsure to confident in less than five seconds. “Ready?”
He nodded blankly.
Hermione licked her lips and lowered her chin—her game face. “Crawl to me.”
Excellent start. Draco grinned and slithered off the couch, settling on his hands and knees. Skirting the coffee table, he crawled to her feet and nudged her hand with his head.
Hermione looked down at him and smiled. “Good boy.”
Her nails raked through his hair, lightly scraping his scalp, and Draco’s scrotum tightened with rapture. He’d had no idea that head scratching and a “good boy” were all that was required to send his bollocks into orbit.
“Take off your shoes and socks. I don’t want them getting in the way later.”
Me neither, he agreed as he quickly kicked off his shoes. Aren’t my trousers in the way as well? Draco had to sit back to pull off his socks, and when he glanced up, she was watching him, a curious gleam in her eyes. Before he could identify the meaning of that gleam, she gestured toward his torso.
“Your shirt too.”
Hmm, yes, ma’am. The nakeder the better. He pulled off his white polo shirt and tossed it aside. We’re getting closer, Granger. Trousers next?
A pleased look of triumph lit her face as she eyed his chest. “Very nice. Now stand up and put your hands on your head. I need to see what I’m working with.”
Grinning cheekily, he rose and interlocked his fingers atop his head, his muscles trembling with anticipation. When she reached toward him, he held his breath and watched as her hand met with his chest in slow motion.
Her smile widened, and she traced the divot between his pecs with one finger. “You keep those hands on your head until I say otherwise.”
“Okay.”
“The proper response is ‘yes, miss.’”
A patch of goose flesh rippled up his neck. This was far more exciting than it had ever been in his imagination, and they hadn’t even done anything dirty yet. “Yes, miss.”
“Much better.” Her finger trailed down his belly, and she sauntered around to the side, dragging her hand over his ribs as she circled him.
He lost sight of her as she moved behind him, but he could feel the subtle vibration of her body, the warmth of her skin baking him like the sun. Her hand was the only point of contact, and she made good use of his overstimulated nerves by lightly skimming her palm up his spine until her fingers carded through the hair at the nape of his neck.
Shivering, Draco closed his eyes and mashed his lips together so he wouldn’t giggle. She was much better at this than he’d expected, but it kind of felt as if they were play acting. His cock had no qualms, however, dubbing it the hottest production ever, and he definitely didn’t want to stop; but his brain couldn't decide how to react to this bizarre new plot twist, and nervous laughter bubbled to his lips unheeded.
Her fingers cascaded down his back, tickling him and leaving a ghostly trail of tingling tracks in their wake.
“So pretty,” Hermione purred. “And this,” she said, grabbing his bum in both hands, “this belongs to me now. Doesn’t it?”
Draco’s eyes went wide. What a strong grip you have, Mistress Granger. Why don’t you come around front and make sure my cock belongs to you too. “Yes, miss. All yours.” Truer words were never spoken.
“Mmmmm,” she murmured, giving his arse a light slap though his clothing. “All this to do with as I please. Where should I begin?”
Mycockmycockmycock.
She strolled back around to the front, drawing her hand around his waist and tucking her index finger into the waistband of his trousers. Oh, thank Merlin! His dick was suffocating in there. Let me out.
Hermione’s brow quirked when she spotted his predicament, and she smiled up at him, following the length of his zip with one finger. “What’s this? Are you already hard before I’ve even gotten your trousers off?”
His cock twitched riotously behind his fly, and his vision began to go sparkly around the edges. He should probably try breathing in the next few seconds. “Yes, miss.”
His respiratory plans were put on hold when she began to idly tap at his belt, her fingernail drumming the clasp as if she was debating whether to take it off. He was just beginning to think she was going to leave him locked in his trousers forever, when she flipped out the end and, with the most agonizing display of patience, eased the leather free, slipping it from his belt loops.
Draco blew out all the air in his lungs then inhaled as if she’d been holding him underwater.
Hermione looked up at him and smirked. “You’re loving this, aren’t you?”
Of course he was bloody well loving it! His dream girl was having her way with him. What was there not to like? “Yes, miss.”
She moved in closer, not quite touching him, but near enough that his cock could have poked her had it been free. Her hand slid over his fly, and with barely any pressure, she cupped his bulge, her fingers wiggling lightly under his sac. “When was the last time you came?”
His exhale rattled past his parted lips. “This morning, miss.”
“Were you wanking, or did you have a particularly nice dream?”
The corners of his mouth twitched. “Wanking, miss.” He knew he was blushing, but he wasn’t sure why. He’d never been embarrassed about tossing one off before, but something about the tone of her voice made him feel like a teenager who’d been caught out after curfew.
I’m a very bad boy, Miss Granger. That wanking was done in your honor, but I’m afraid it was a tad on the disrespectful side. Or do you always beg for a good titty fucking after a soapy shower?
Her brown eyes burned into his, making his heart skip a beat. Oh gods, she wasn’t a Legilimens, was she?
“That was very naughty. From now on you only come when I say so. Is that clear?”
If she wasn’t careful, he was going to come right then and there. She patted his placket, and his stomach flipped over and stuck the landing in his lower intestines. He’d do anything she wanted. Anything. “Yes, miss. I understand.”
“Good. Now . . . are these trousers getting uncomfortable?”
“Yes, miss!”
Snickering, she nodded. “I bet they are. Too bad you’ve been touching yourself without my permission. That means ten with the belt first.”
Draco groaned in his head but nodded enthusiastically. He did want the belt—he just wished his dick was out while she was giving it to him so he didn’t wind up stuck to his shorts again. “Yes, miss.”
“Bend over. Hands on your shins. I want to hear you counting, and you’re to say, ‘I will not touch my cock unless miss tells me to,’ after each hit.”
There was no hesitation. He was in position the second she ordered it. “Yes, miss.”
From the corner of his eye, he watched as she did her slinky kitten walk to get into place. Where the hell did she learn to move like that? The sway of her hips was wank-worthy all on its own, and her arse looked absolutely scrummy in those knickers.
Hermione slapped the leather over her hand, and Draco jumped at the sound. The crack of leather released a flood of adrenaline that surged through him like wave. She did it again, and he realized she was testing to see how hard to hit him.
Hermione touched his lower back and, with her other hand, tapped the leather against his bum. “Ready?”
“Yes, miss.”
The belt lifted away, and there was a long pause as Draco waited for the resulting sting. His ears picked up every sound in the room, and he heard the soft friction of her skin as she brought the belt down with a light flick.
Swack.
He barely felt the leather, but his nerves were so geared up that his body shuddered as some the tension diffused. “One. I will not touch my cock unless miss tells me to.”
“Legs further apart.”
Draco widened his stance and re-braced his hands. The new position made his balls feel far more vulnerable, but that just added to the slew of strange new feelings this new game had inspired.
Swack!
That one was a bit harder. He actually felt a slight sting. “Two. I will not touch my cock unless miss tells me to.”
Swack!
His eyes went wide for a second then he had to choke down another round of anxiety-giggles. His angel was not only kinky but adept with a belt. That hit had some real heat behind it. “Three. I will not touch my cock unless miss tells me to.”
SWACK!
Holy fuck! He closed his eyes and took a steadying breath. His dick was drooling, rabid for more leather. “Four. I will not touch my cock unless miss tells me to.”
SWACK!
He grunted and dropped his head, staring at the carpet in a daze. His entire body was begging for the belt, but his brain had gone all fuzzy. “Five,” he said automatically. “I will not touch my cock unless miss tells me to.”
SWACK!
His erection was suddenly on the verge of snapping all the teeth in his zip. “Six. I will not touch my cock unless miss tells me to.”
SWACK!
“Mm!” he grunted. “Seven. I will not touch my cock unless miss tells me to.”
“Stand up.”
It took him a second to decipher that order, and it took him even longer to straighten without spraining his length in the shrinking confines of his crotch. When he was standing, she came around and unfastened his fly, her crafty little fingers caressing and stroking him as she lowered the zip. His trousers dropped below his arse, and his hard-on sighed in relief. Finally! Bless the banshees! She left his boxer briefs where they were and returned to her post at his posterior.
“Back into position,” she said softly.
As if he’d been Imperiused, Draco bent back over and gripped his legs. The partial liberation blended with the sexual heat burning through his loins, which unfortunately coalesced into a superstorm of sensation. Her hand was on his arse, stroking him through that last layer, and Draco was floating out to sea on a current of pleasure.
“How’s your bottom feeling?”
Although he couldn’t see her face, he could hear the smile in her words. “Hot, miss.”
“Just three more. Do you think you can take them?”
Take them? He’d be lucky not to blow his load before she finished. “Yes, miss. I can take them.”
“All right. You’re doing very well. Keep counting for me.”
He closed his eyes and nodded. “Yes, miss.”
Hermione tapped his backside a few times more, measuring out her swing, then Draco felt the sharp snap of leather lashing over his buttocks.
Fucking hell! Losing that one layer was quite a change in intensity. He desperately wanted to grab his cock and pump as the sting coursed through his cheeks, but that probably wasn’t allowed. They were doing all this under the pretext of punishment after all.
“Eight,” he grunted through his teeth. “I will not touch my cock unless miss tells me to.”
SWACK!
Draco took a deep breath—body and brain in a raging battle. His genitalia insisted it was time to come, while his pride demanded they wait. He wanted to be Hermione’s good boy, but . . . bloody hell, his balls weren’t used to hearing the word no.
“I don’t hear you counting,” she said, sounding a bit more concerned than stern.
“Nine. I will not touch my cock unless miss tells me to.”
“Are you really all right?” she asked, caressing his left cheek with the tips of her fingers.
“I’m really close, miss.”
“Don’t you dare come, Draco.” Her tone had changed in an instant. “That cream is mine. Do you understand me?” She sounded quite serious.
“Yes, miss.”
“Okay. Keep still.”
Draco mashed his lips together and waited for the next blow.
Swack!
She’d dialed back the impact, but his dick didn’t get the memo. He begged it to just hold on a bit longer. “Ten. I will not touch my cock unless miss tells me to.”
“Stand. Hands on your head.”
Draco did so, heaving out a deep sigh, relieved he’d made it to the end without embarrassing himself.
Hermione came around and eyed the tent in his shorts. “You took that very well,” she said with a smirk of perverse congratulations. “Did you enjoy the belt?”
Shite. What was he supposed to say? Maybe he wasn’t supposed to fancy the punishment. But if she was after the truth, he didn’t want to lie to her. “I don’t know, miss.”
“You don’t know?” Hermione curled one finger into his elastic waistband and pulled it out so she could peek into his underwear. “It certainly looks like you enjoyed it. Is your cock lying to me?”
He smiled. “No, miss.”
She let go of the elastic with a soft snap and palmed his manhood, groping him through the cotton. “It feels as though you’ve sprung a leak.” She ran her thumb over the circle of pre-cum soaking through the front. “I think a response of this magnitude deserves a thank you.”
Draco couldn’t agree more. “Yes, miss. Thank you for punishing me.”
“Did you learn your lesson?”
“My cock is yours, miss.”
She grinned. “That’s right. Now that we’ve dealt with the discipline, let's move on to the fun part, shall we?”
He nodded wholeheartedly. “Yes, please, miss.”
“I’ll just take these off and check your arse to make sure you’re ready to play.”
Draco bit back a groan as she knelt and carefully pulled down his boxer-briefs. His dick burst onto the scene, bobbing in her face and pleading for some attention, but Hermione just smiled at its antics and let his shorts fall to the floor.
“Bend over,” she said as she rose and began to circle behind him.
His hand itched to calm his frantic cock, but he managed to resist the temptation. His knob poked his stomach as he got into place, smearing his abdominals with wet stripes of pre-ejaculate. When he felt her touch on his throbbing bum, he swallowed down a grunt of excitement, but when he felt her hand wandering over his bollocks, all restraint was lost. Her fingers flitted across his sac and then pressed into his buttocks as if she were checking to see if he’d been thoroughly cooked. Her careful inspection was quite and turn on, and Draco wasn’t surprised to feel a fresh drip of fluid fall from his glans. He’d always enjoyed being the center of attention, but this was taking that to a whole new level. Girls had always liked to look at him—and who could blame them—but none of them had ever studied his backside like a damn detective. She wasn’t fawning over him or ogling his arse, she was critiquing her work and laying claim to her property.
At least that was what he hoped she was doing.
There was some gentle stroking of his crack and then, slowly, torturously, she spread his cheeks apart. Draco gasped and went still, his balls clenching up, on the verge of ejecting his entire haul.
“It’s all right,” she whispered, kneading his bum. “I’m just looking.”
Obviously. If she’d been touching him there, he would have been coming all over the carpet.
Releasing his cheeks, she patted his arse to let him know she was done. “Now everyone will know you’re mine,” she said with a note of glee.
Draco smirked. Damn straight I’m yours. But who do you think I’m going to let see this? “Yours, miss.”
“It’s just a little red. I’ll put some cream on it later.”
“Thank you, miss.”
“All right,” she said, running her hand down his back. “Let’s go to my room. Step out of your clothes and get back on your hands and knees.”
Somehow Draco found himself naked and on all fours with no memory of how he’d gotten there. But when he looked up at her, dazed and desperate, she gave him an approving nod that made him want to sit up and beg.
Hermione smiled slyly and turned her back to him, heading toward the bedroom. “Come along.”
Draco crawled after her, staring at her black lace bum the whole way. The curving tick-tock of her cheeks was hypnotic.
“Up on the bed—on your back,” she told him when they reached her room.
Draco climbed up and rolled onto his back, his eyes locked on her, searching for a clue about what might happen next. She flicked her wand at him, and silk scarves shot out, coiling around his wrists and ankles like black serpents. He was too surprised to really contemplate their purpose. When his brain began to operate again, he realized his legs were pulled wide and both wrists were bound together in front of him.
He tested their strength, but she had him stuck tight. Looking to her for some kind of explanation, Draco was ecstatic to see her pulling off her bra. Her tits fell free, and he was immediately transported to a jiggly paradise.
Lifting her hands to her shoulders, she brushed her fingers down her naked chest, going slowly, tickling and caressing with the gentlest of touches. Draco was spellbound. As her fingers descended, they bumped over the stiff cliffs of her nipples, strumming them lightly as she passed. Draco groaned pitifully. He should have been the one doing that for her, but his hands were literally tied.
“Is this what that pretty cock of yours likes so much?” she asked, her voice husky with arousal.
Love, this is what leaves me stuck to the bed every morning. He would have told her that, but his brain had lost some functionality since she’d gone topless. He just nodded stupidly and kept his eyes on her breasts.
“What about this?” she purred as her fingers skated down to her knickers. “Is this why you’re so hard?”
Her hand dipped into the front of her panties, and he gawked at the sight of her petting her pussy behind that sheer layer. He couldn’t really see what she was doing, but her knickers were small enough to give him some vivid clues.
When she withdrew her hand, her fingers glistened in the lamplight, covered in a copious cache of her lubrication. Bringing them to her mouth, she gently parted her lips and forced him to watch as she licked away her lust. Draco made an inarticulate noise of desperation and tried to sit up.
“No, no,” she admonished. “You stay right where you are.”
Draco huffed and dropped his head back, staring at the ceiling. All the swirly designs in the plaster looked like tits. Great. His brain had officially abandoned him.
“How rude of me,” she said in mock horror. “I should have asked if you wanted any.”
Draco picked up his head to look at her again. Was this a trick? Her hand disappeared into her knickers again, and he licked his lips as she sloshed through her folds in search of libations.
“Did you want some?”
He nodded. “Yes, miss. Please!”
She slunk to the bed like a prowling lioness, the most lascivious look on her face. He knew he was panting, but he couldn’t seem to close his mouth.
Hermione drew her hand from her knickers and rested it on her right breast. Draco stared, unblinking, as she smeared her stiff nipple with cream. Oh gods! He wanted that tit more than anything in the world.
With a sinuous swirl of her hips, she turned her back to him and hooked her thumbs in the sides of her knickers. Glancing over her shoulder, she flashed him a crafty smile and began to tease them down . . . inch by inch. Draco swallowed hard. She peeled the lace from her crevice and revealed a view that stopped his heart. Her slit shone in the warm light, and he could just spot her adorable little pucker peeking from between her cheeks. Was she trying to give him a heart attack? What man could resist such a voluptuous vista?
Growling loudly, he reached for his dick with both bound hands.
She whipped around. “Uh uh uh! You know better than that. What did we just learn in the other room?”
Draco whimpered and dropped his hands. “I don’t touch my cock unless miss tells me to.”
“That’s right. Only boys who follow the rules get to come. Do you want to come?”
“Yesssss,” he hissed, banging his head against the bed.
“That’s what I thought. Now, I can sit on your face and give you a taste, or I can relieve your problem with a quick hand job right now. Which would you prefer?”
He turned that over, suspecting that was some kind of riddle he didn’t understand yet. “Do you mean that I don’t get to eat your pussy if I take the wank?”
She shook her head. “That‘s right. If you show me how good you are with your mouth, I’ll ride your cock until you come inside me. So . . . which would you prefer?”
“Pussy pussy pussy!”
She smirked. “Pussy pussy pussy what?”
“Please! Miss!” He didn’t know which answer she wanted. “Please, miss, please!”
“All right, calm down.” She stepped out of her knickers and crawled up on the bed next to his shoulder. “I left your hands somewhat mobile so you could signal me if you needed air, not so you could touch yourself. You’re to keep your hands on me at all times so I know you’re not being disobedient.”
“Yes, miss.”
“You tap my back three times if you need to breathe.”
“Yes, miss.”
Hermione smiled and bent down to kiss him, but her lips just barely brushed his before she pulled away. Draco whimpered for more, but she was already getting into place.
When she threw her leg over his head, he almost went into cardiac arrest. Her soft little muffin settled over his face, and he was assailed by the musky glory of her sex. Bloody hell. The scent struck him like a battalion of Bludgers. Mine! Using his tongue to penetrate her outer lips, he tunneled his way into her twat. As soon as her flavor washed over his taste buds, he was reeling. Oh gods, yes!
Hermione moaned and circled her hips. Her slippery lips opened against his mouth, and her juice smeared all over his cheeks and chin. Draco lapped through her folds, rooting into her thicket in search of every trace of that salty syrup. He delved into each pocket and cranny in search of more sweet cream, and when he tried to suck the honey straight off her clit, she arched her back and ground her swollen nub into his mouth, giving him full access to her most sensitive area.
“Yessss,” she hissed. “Right there. Keep your hands on my back.”
Draco pressed the sides of his hands against her spine, stroking his thumbs over her soft skin as he devoured her. Closing his eyes, he reveled in her leaking labia and the kitten soft hair tickling his nose. Matching his licking to the ticking of her hips, he let her body dictate the tempo.
“Oh gods, Draco. I’m so close! Don’t stop!”
Stop? He wasn’t stopping until he passed out. Just having her thighs wrapped around his face was like being smothered by heaven. If he could touch her tits, it would have been absolute perfection.
She undulated against his tongue and shouted his name. Draco was thirsty for her juice, and she didn’t disappoint. Extending his tongue, covering as much ground as he could, he let her grind her way to glory. Somewhere in her folds he must have hit the orgasmic jackpot, because her pussy spontaneously shot a stream of watery arousal all over his face.
It ran down his jaw, each rill tickling his neck as it forged a new path along his flesh. Draco wanted more; he wanted to drown in her lust. He made her come like that. Not his father. Not Snape. Him.
“Mmmmmm,” she moaned as she came back down to earth. “Good boy. Very . . . very good boy.”
Draco greedily laved her dripping lips, and an aftershock rolled through her body as he slurped up her nectar.
“Okay,” she panted, lifting her hips. “I think you’ve proven yourself worthy.”
His head was spinning, but he nodded all the same. “Thank you, miss.”
Hermione smiled and shimmied down his body. His hands were trapped between them, but she rose up to give him room.
“Pull up your arms for me.”
Draco wiggled his arms up to his chest, and she grabbed him by the wrists. Was he just knackered, or was she stronger than she appeared? She pinned his hands above his head so her breasts were strategically pressed into his face.
Hermione pressed her chest into his face. “That’s for you. I know what you like.”
Draco found her spiked nipple with his tongue and groaned in pleasure. It was the breast she’d basted in her juices earlier. Latching on, he sucked the salty coating from her skin. “Please, miss,” he mumbled around her. “My cock aches.”
“I know, love,” she murmured, shifting her hips back so his knob nudged her slit. “Let’s get you taken care of.”
She sank down, arching her spine and rolling her pelvis so he was snuggled into her slick opening. Draco’s eyes went wide as her body drew him in and wrapped him in satin heat. Why were tight trousers so torturous, but tight pussy so magical? That was a head scratcher. She must have enjoyed the penetration as much as he did, because she made a croaky mewl of excitement and wandlessly released his restraints.
Her wandless magic wasn’t very precise; he was freed, but the scarves didn’t disappear. Keeping hold of his wrists, she began to ride him. Her breast shimmied against his lips as she bounced, and her succulent skin melted in his mouth like marmalade.
Draco bent his knees and curled up his pelvis so she could fully seat herself on his length. Her grip on his wrists tightened, and without warning, she picked up the pace. Draco gasped around her tit, but he’d stuffed his mouth so full he couldn’t inhale. A keening of panic spilled out around her areola, and he struggling in her grip, trying to stop her relentless ride—but to no avail. Her pounding tipped him past the point of no return.
Jerking into her, he released all the tension that had been building in his bollocks since she’d opened her front door and smiled at him. His cock pulsed, sending his brain careening and his body soaring. His skin tingled and throbbed, as if the orgasm were spreading over his flesh like a river of Fiendfyre. Draco shouted her name around her nipple, but it came out sounding like the cries of a madman. Never had he experienced anything so spectacular. It seemed as if every organ in his body was following the tide of his testes—pulsating and glowing with pleasure.
When his balls were laid to waste, she went still and released his hands; and Draco let her tit pop from his mouth so he could gasp in a lungful of fresh air.
Hermione stroked the top of his head and smiled down at him. “So how did you like that?”
She looked so damn happy. Giddy in fact. Thank Merlin. “I think if you ever get tired of working at the Ministry, you could have a lucrative career in the dominatrix field.”
She laughed and kissed his damp forehead. “I’ll keep that in mind. You must have fancied it quite a bit; I’ve never seen you come so fast.”
Draco sighed. Was that a dig? “Well that’s what you get for teasing me for so long and then riding me like a racehorse.”
Hermione snorted and rested her head on his shoulder, panting against his neck as she caught her breath. “I thought it was sexy as hell. I like seeing you out of your mind like that.”
Draco grinned. Ah. Not a dig at all. More of a compliment. “I’m always out of my mind with you.”
“Mmmmm,” she hummed happily. “You’re sweet. Want to take a shower in a little bit?”
Draco wrapped his arms around her and nodded. “Anything you want.”
“I want to stay like this until you fall out of me.”
“That might take awhile.” His erection didn’t seem to be going anywhere.
Hermione playfully ground her hips into him. “Mm! Maybe we should go for round two then.”
Draco smiled and grabbed her arse, slowly thrusting into her from below. The girl was insatiable. I could get used to this. “Your wish is my command . . . miss.”
Natural--A symbol in sheet music that returns a note to its original pitch after it has been augmented or diminished.
"Self Control" by Laura Branigan. Released 1984. Written by Giancarlo Bigazzi, Raffaele Riefoli, and Steve Piccolo. Italian singer Raffaele Riefoli (Raf), wrote and released the song the same year as Branigan. Both versions of the song were popular across Europe. Raf's version became no. 1 in Italy, and Branigan's peaked at no. 4 on the Billboard Top 100 chart.
Branigan's video for the song was directed by William Friedkin (The Exorcist), and if you like 80's videos that leave you wondering if someone slipped shrooms in your sandwich, this is the video for you. (I'm having major childhood flashbacks watching this. Oh God! The hands reaching through the walls! Yes!)
Raf's version https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=7w1Qo1awwI4
Branigan's version https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=miGUnKWcYeo
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