In a Prison of Delights | By : awalter Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 9823 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Title: In A Prison of Delights
Pairing: HG/DM (Het)
Warnings: Mentions of torture and preg; rough sex; war; bad language
Rating: Hard R to NC-17
Length: Oneshot
Summary: HG/DM Het. When the War ended badly, he offered her sanctuary, and in return she gave him what he needed. Now Hermione is worried about her future, after all they can’t go on like this forever. Right?
The first time Hermione heard the noises she ignored them. The second time she banged on the separating wall. The third time she heard them she calmly crossed the room and walked out into the hallway to knock loudly on her neighbor’s door. When the door opened, Hermione wished fervently that she had left well enough alone.
"Hello, Mudblood."
Draco Malfoy’s hateful voice and above-it-all manner was countered by the look of pure lust in his eyes. She remembered the first time she had seen that look. She also remembered the last time. Neither experience was one she cared to repeat.
"Malfoy, do you mind keeping it down in there?"
"Ha, ha, Granger. This is a detention center you know. A prison. And if you’ve forgotten, we punish people in prisons in the Wizarding World. Therefore I can make as much of a racket as I choose while I’m doing my job. Got it?"
"Loud and clear. Excuse me. I’m going to find somewhere quiet to continue reviewing these case files. AS IN AWAY FROM YOU!"
Malfoy’s eyes narrowed into slits of silver.
"Be careful, Muddy. I just might find a reason to get you thrown in here with the rest of the mudbloods, blood-traitors and all the other scum who were on the losing side of this war. Just remember what you owe me."
She swallowed quietly.
"I recall. I’m sorry."
"You should be, bitch. You should be down on your knees begging me for patience. Why, hey, now. That’s a pretty good idea. Come here, Sweetcheeks."
He gestured for her to kneel in front of him, and her gaze fell on the blood and other noxious substances that coated his boots and had, at some point during the proceedings in the room behind him, splashed across his bare chest and abdomen.
Revolted though she was, she knelt without further hesitation and began unfastening his leather belt. The buckle jingled slightly as she released the clasp and let it fall off to the side. She undid his trousers and separated the fine wool material from the bare skin beneath. His cock was as rigid and red as ever. An easy seven inches in length and he was thick around. She gulped nervously. Although in recent months she had had practice working this man’s sexual organ, she had never gotten past her own gag reflex and so it could be an uncomfortable, even frightening experience to touch him with her lips and tongue and to take him into her mouth and throat.
"Get moving, Granger. I don’t have all day."
She licked the tip, swirling her tongue around the head and then sucking it into her mouth so that she could bathe the stalk with her tongue and saliva. She hated how bad she was at oral sex. It was a constant source of embarrassment for her. She didn’t make any overt mistakes, and he always came when she did this to him, but somehow she knew that her skills were still too elementary. He never complained and she knew that he must enjoy her naiveté, because he never sought out other women for sexual favors. He would only laugh at the girls who made plays for him, and she often got the impression that Malfoy’s sex drive was equal to carrying on with several women at once without leaving anyone wanting more.
He grunted and she knew that he was close to finishing.
She worried about whether he was satisfied by keeping her as his companion. The rules were just complex enough that he could not marry any little pureblooded princess to bear heirs while he held the contract on Hermione. He was correct when he had reminded her that she owed him.
When the war ended and Lord Voldemort’s new order was instilled into Wizarding Society here in Britain, Draco Malfoy had made an astonishingly noble offer to Hermione Granger, one of his school rivals. He had offered to be her protector and in return she would fulfill the traditional role of Death-Eater companion. This provided her with a buffer against the other Death Eaters and the Dark Lord and it gave her certain freedoms that she would never have been granted as a member of the losing side.
All he asked of her was obedience and a modicum of gratitude. She gave both freely, but every once in while she gave into temptation to feel self-pity, or to forget her situation and act as she might have done had the war ended differently.
Hermione stared up into his lusty gaze and watched him shudder as he spilled his semen, without warning, down her throat. She swallowed as hard and fast as she could, to catch every drop and to avoid choking and lastly to make his orgasm pleasurable by squeezing her throat and mouth muscles around his dick.
He’d scarcely finished when he began to harden again. She recognized the symptoms. A combination of a revitalizing potion, his frequently used morning “pick-me-up”, of the arousal he often got from torturing the prisoners, and finally from her. He’d been fascinated by her since she challenged him intellectually and then physically back in school. Nothing would have made him happier than to fuck her six ways from Sunday at the end of their third form when Hermione had gotten tired of his attitude and lack of sleep had strained her nerves past all self-control and she had assaulted him. Malfoy had been gagging for it ever since. And now whenever he “got any” he couldn’t seem to get enough of it.
He gripped her shoulder roughly and pulled her up until he could smooth his hands up her body and pull her against his chest. She could feel some of the sticky blood that hadn’t dried seep into her robes. Disgusted as she was she could feel most of her concern evaporate as he slid a hand between her legs and he began to frig her madly. The slick sound of his fingers against her sex was mortifying even after all this time. She was always this wet when he touched her. It didn’t matter what the circumstances were, if they were alone, or in public, if they had had sex dozens of times in the past week or next to none (actually she was hard pressed to recall any instance of the latter, but she imagined her body wouldn’t have lost interest in him within a week), she was always ready for him to take her, fuck her, claim her.
Always.
Hermione sighed as Malfoy pushed her back against the doorframe and pushed his cock into her without any patience for her body’s natural resistance. It hurt, but she had had enough sex lately that he didn’t tear anything. He pistoned in and out of her, riding her painfully hard. Hermione screamed softly as he bludgeoned her cervix and came back to hit it again. She knew better than to assume he was pissed off at her and wanted to punish her for it. She knew that when he got like this he needed something that only this could give him so she tried to stay loose and relaxed and just let him get on with it.
His movement alone stimulated her orgasm. She rippled around his cock and milked it with her spasming muscles and he came. It burst hot, so hot, into her womb in straight shots. It was so hot it burned, she felt scalded from the inside out, but it felt so good that it kept her coming for a good minute after he ended.
"Hey, Mudblood."
"Yes, Malfoy?"
Hermione’s voice was so soft it was barely audible. She was so tired she wanted to slide down to the floor and sleep.
"You didn’t remind me about the spell."
She frowned slightly, trying to make a mental connection between his incomprehensible words and his equally unclear meaning.
"OI, GRANGER! We didn’t use protection."
Hermione frowned and then the crease between her brows smoothed out in shock. Not once in all these months had they forgotten the anti-fertility spell that kept her from becoming pregnant. Malfoy had always been the one to remind her in the past. She had never said a word to him about it. So why was he blaming her for not remembering?
Draco Malfoy’s expression was difficult to read. He didn’t look angry. He didn’t look panicked. She wasn’t entirely certain, but she could swear he looked smug.
He pulled his cock out of her and seemed to admire the juices of their mutual enjoyment that decorated his cock, his balls, and his lower abdomen. She traced his look to her own sex and thighs which were equally soaked.
"Suck it off, Granger. And put it away."
Hermione got down and licked off the juices on his stomach then sucked and licked his cock clean, before finally sucking his balls into her mouth one at a time to remove the fluids. He waited patiently for her to tuck him back into his slacks and fasten the belt up again before moving with lightening speed to lick her cunt out. After the beating it had just taken the warm, gentle eating felt marvelous. Hermione wondered what had gotten into Malfoy. Even as he finished he leaned forward one last time and kissed her own lower abdominals softly and reverently. Then he stood and fixed her clothes for her.
"Get back to work, Granger. I’ll want a progress report on how many files you’ve gone over by the end of the day, with your recommendations for prisoner delegation and treatment. Chop-chop!"
He turned away from her, walked back into the room and slammed the door in her face.
Hermione stared at it blankly.
After a moment a soft smile crossed her face and a hand splayed across her belly. Hermione knew then that she would never again worry about him leaving her. Draco Malfoy had seen to it personally.
Fin.
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