Pleasure | By : Eloise Downbadde & Eloise Downbadde Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 4990 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: My stories are works of fan fiction. It is not affiliated with JK Rowling/WB and I'm making nothing off of this. It IS however based off a real life relationship I had a few years ago, back when I was a single pringle. :) |
This chapter kind of jumps around with narration. I'm not sure if I like it better this way or not. Thanks for reading! I'm so out of practice, it's been years since I wrote anything and I missed it so much.
If anyone were ever to ask, it all started with her doe eyes. Her damn big beautiful eyes that shine at anything but him. No. At him they burn, they set him ablaze and burn down any and every hope he has that they would shine at him.
It started as dreams, as an infatuation always does. Her big brown eyes looking at him while he made her bow and simper to him and his power. Finally getting her under him, where he was told she belonged. She would sit under his desk, crying, her pleas being ignored while he finished classes with nothing but praise from every teacher, his fingers covered with gold rings.
That suddenly changed one week, when during the dream he looked down to see her with his cock in her mouth instead of grovelling at his shoes. He was surprised but not disgusted by those large eyes staring at him, finally doing something productive with her mouth. His life was changing so of course his dreams would too.
Then, puberty hit hard and the dream changed again, he ravished her and ruined her innocence, those deep eyes swirling with desire. Suddenly, he was waking up in a cold sweat, hard as a rock, wanking to her face and wishing she was below him, mouth open, eyes wide staring and wanting him.
The dreams turned from there, no longer rough and angry, but passionate and lustful sex. Consensual, of course, as consensual as a dream can be. There aren't exactly words or any boundaries in a dream. That worked as far as he was concerned. In a dream, there was no Potter or Weasel to stop them from going at it like rabbits. There was no history or pain and hatred and he didn't spite her for being so much better than him in class. Although there was a very luscious dream on repeat with him as a potions master and she, Miss know it all who wanted to please him anyway she could. And he means ANY way.
Then, last year, she started dating the idiot ginger. He had lost his chance (not that he deserved one) because he knew, she would settle for him. She would always lower herself to make him feel better and that burned him up. He was furious. She was the brightest student in the school and she was still doing that oafs homework. He almost leapt with glee when they were both assigned Heads. He actually did jump with excitment when he overheard her desperate attempts to make love to Weasel. A few times before he would hear her exasperated and could feel anger radiating off of her. He was typically the prime source of those feelings from her so he knew exactly what was wrong.
He had observed and waited for months now. He wasn't going to make a move until he was sure. He had to be calculating, he had one shot to make her forget all the bad and make her obsessed with the good parts of him. He never thought he would be trying to get Granger not only to be comfortable with him, but nude and letting him touch her and bring her to the brink.
And she did, finally. He was so giddy he had no idea how he didn't beam the next few days. He was going to win her over. He was going to best her useless boyfriend and...then what? If he was honest with himself, he had no plan past getting her to accept him and dump Weasel. He was still figuring things out as he went along but he wasn't expecting her to be so responsive, so incredible.
She was intelligent, passionate, beautiful and everything he ever could want in a partner. Despite not being from a lineage of powerful wizards, she was better than most and that drowned all the prejudice he had been raised in. Not saying he wanted to take her to meet his parents, have his children and uproot his world but it was a pleasure to spend time with a woman as exciting as her. Someone he never thought he would be with. A hidden gem in front of him all along.
~**~
Frustration. That's what comes from speaking to Ron. Pure frustration. Hermione tried, really, she did. She tried to steer him gently into giving her pleasure instead of mainly using her for his own. Subtle hints, small movements and earnest words to stall him from finishing long before her all failed. Which left her nothing but telling him, very plainly and painfully clear; she was unsatisfied. She never reached an orgasm, he didn't even try to entice her the way he used to one full year ago. She left out anything about her evening with Malfoy two weeks prior, of course. However, the honesty felt like an insult to Ron.
What did she mean? Was he not enough for her? Was she not in love with him anymore? Et cetera. Frustrated to tears, the discussion lead to the biggest row they'd ever had. Followed by two days of not speaking to one another.
And Hermione hates that by the end of the second day, she found herself paused at the staircase that lead up to the Head Boys room. Aching for some type of release of all the tension built within her. Feeling that what she needed was on the tip of his tongue, pun intended.
Instead she fled the Head dorm and hunted down Ron, straddling and riding him several times until dawn came. Unfortunately, much like dawn, she only came once. Quite a disappointment for angry make up sex. Despite his body being in its prime, toned and muscled, his hands rough and strong as they held her and his voice familiar and soothing, not any of these stoked flame inside her. Once a roaring fire now their relationship was hot coals left in her belly with the ability to be tended and swell back to burning but only with much work. Much work Ron didn't seem to be interested in doing.
She sighed aloud, in her bed with Ron snoring softly next to her. He was spent from yet another attempt to please her sexually and with so much fervor, she ashamedly pretended to orgasm. Now once again she was dejected and frustrated. Not just with her boyfriend but everything in her life, especially that terrifying pull behind her navel, like she was being transported by port key, towards Draco Malfoy. He had been taunting her with his eyes. He watched her every move, never speaking unless he had to and standing just far enough away that she was sure he had calculated reasons. Words were not exchanged but the piercing gaze he fixed on her when they were alone made her sweat. She would cling to Ron, begging him to stay over nights more and more often to quiet any of her inner beast cries to sit on the blondes lap and take him for a ride.
She glanced over at the red-head, so soft and peaceful sleeping deeply. If she wasn't going to be sleeping, she could at least find comfort in her favorite book. For a moment, she wished he wasn't in her room. She could turn her lights up and read in her bed but instead, she pulled her dressing gown on, tied the plush rope around her waist, put her feet into slippers that resembled Crookshanks and padded her way down the stairs. She lit the fireplace and sat in the closest arm chair, tucking her legs under herself and leaning her chin into her palm, getting lost in her reading. It was the better part of an hour before she saw Malfoy from the side of her vision as he sat in the opposite arm chair. She ignored the internal growl and the anxiety that was creeping up her back, far too tired to even contimplate what her bodily response to him was. He was dressed in clearly luxurious button down night shirt and trousers and it made her wonder, who wears that to bed?
"What are those on your feet? Large Fwoopers?" He sounded completely fascinated, compared to his usual bored tone. The most notable change in his behavior since they connected, everything she said was now of great interest to him. Every move she made was studied, every giggle she made in Draco's presence while never directed at him, stirred in him. She would be with Ron on their couch when some stupid line made her shake with laughter. He didn't miss her looking his way, catching his attention for a moment while she was flushed, smiling and a joyful sparkle in her eyes. Every time it made him freeze, painfully realizing that was not a way she looked at him. It didn't matter, he would win her over with pleasure and orgasms.
"Slippers made to look like my cat." She took one fuzzy foot out and held it up to the firelight. She noticed his eyes drifted up her leg and she felt nervous again, tucking her foot back under her. "What are you wearing? That looks like a pajama suit." She tried to hide a snicker but he looked down at his clothes and shrugged at her, moving his head to stare back into the fire. There was a beat of silence and she turned her attention back to her book, expecting him to be bored and leave.
"Reading instead of sleeping?" he asked, not turning to speak to her. She glanced up at him, making a humming sound of affirmation. "Weasley upstairs, I take it?"
She held back a snippy remark but still replied, "Yes. I can't read in the dark."
"What are you reading?" he finally turned his face to met her eyes. She purposly looked at her book instead of him.
"A book of fairy tales. It's my comfort book."
"Oh...so you like it?" there was a bit of energy and earnest in his tone now. He shifted in his seat to face her, wanting her to talk to him. She had almost ran from the common room last time they were alone. Plus, learning things she liked would work in his favor. Books, obviously but the type was just as important.
She paused and put her finger on a line, closing the book over it and sighing at him. "Yes, it's my favorite. It's nice to be in a pretend world sometimes but it's difficult to read and talk." He had the decency to look embarrassed. There was a very long time where he said nothing, just stared at the fire, fiddling with his family ring on his finger.
After two more pages he finally spoke again. "So, he wasn't able to satisfying you again." he said it slowly, like he was almost scared to say the words. She was still adjusting to this new Malfoy. One who was careful with his words instead of spitting whatever he wanted at her. His blonde hair and insults went hand in hand in her head after so many years. She knows her responses to him were still thrown out of her mouth without much thought but she was working on that as well. It's easier to have amicable relationships with a roommate than to bicker over nothing like they used to do.
"I felt like reading. There's nothing wrong with that after a long day." He mumbled something she didn't catch but she knew asking him would encourage more conversation. She felt like leaving but she wasn't the type to stop mid-chapter. "Would you let me read? I'd like to finish this chapter and go to bed."
He sort of grunted and shifted in his seat but fell silent. She continued reading her grimm and dark true fairy tales and kept glancing over at him. Thankfully, he didn't make a peep by the time she finished her chapter. She looked at him sternly, ready to give a sardonic thank you for being quiet but she found he was asleep. She smiled down and opened her book back up. She might as well read another chapter.
The fire was dwindeling when she felt her eyes droop; time to finish up. She placed her bookmark and stretched as she stood. He had slumped his head to the wingback of the chair and breathed evenly, his hair still flawlessly smoothed back but his face smooshed. She quitely laughed and wandered to the couch to get the big blanket she liked to use, draping it over his lap. She turned to extinguish the fire, spreading the coals and what was left of the wood out to burn out, ever worried of an unattended flame. She turned to walk back through the living space and to her stairs when her slippers caught on part of the rug.
She swore and fell directly in front of him, catching herself with her hands on his knees. He jumped awake, startled but quickly softened. "Well," he drawled and she stumbled back to stand. The last thing this prat needs is to see her on her knees, practically in a begging position.
"Ugh, sorry. I fell" she mumbled out before he could say more or trap her with his gaze. She picked up her book on the floor and retightened her dressing gown that had untied, making her painfully aware her legs were bare and she was only in a large tshirt underneath. "Good night, Malfoy." she strode past his chair, closing her eyes tightly to fight any embarrassment coming to her cheeks.
She felt a tug and the familiar feeling of falling as she stumbled backwards and over the arm chair. She opened her eyes to find Draco staring down at her, his eyes bright despite the fire being out. He whispered to her, "I'm not done with you, babes." He brushed his lips lightly over hers, pulling back just when she moved to kiss him. She twitched her nose in annoyance. For him and for the position she was in, spawled over an chair; her arse in his lap while her head drooped over one side and her legs the other. She lifted her head to glare at him but he propped her up with one arm, gently squeezing her shoulder. The other hand was sliding up one leg and down the other. From the outside thigh to the inside, grazing her sensitive spot before going back down the other leg.
"Let me take a look at these monsterous slippers of yours," He drifted his hand across her thighs and fluttered over her calf to slip one slipper off her foot. He brought it to his face and mumbled, "Your cat looks like this?"
As always with Crookshanks, she felt a need to defend him, "He is a wonderful cat and is part kneasle, loyal and adorable. I don't care what you say." her chin jutted out at him and he chuckled.
"I wasn't attacking it, Granger. I'm just surprised. It seems you like a lot of ginger things."
She rolled her eyes, "Hardly, Ron and Crooks don't even get along. They constantly fight for my attention." He started drawing little circles on the underside of her knees, making her thoughts evaporate.
"Fighting for your attention is quite relatable. I wonder if your cat would get along with me." She licked her lips nervously. He wasn't fighting for her attention, he was trying to best Ron in the only way he knew how, that's all this was. Her cheeks felt hot at the thought of the two brawling over someone like her.
"He's not here. I had to leave him at the Burrow. He's getting quite old, you see. So Ron had these slippers made-" he met her eyes angrily, and tossed the slipper to the ground. Her words died in her throat at the intensity of his gaze.
Without breaking eye contact, he slid his hand down to take the other slipper off, letting it fall to the floor. Then he ran his hand from her ankle to her pelvis, slipping under her tshirt to rest on her stomach. He spoke quietly but the tone left no room to argue. "No more talk of him." He leaned down and caught her lips in his, another hungry kiss while his hand migrated up to cup her breast, slowly kneading it. It was a stark contrast to his lips, his hand was soft and gentle but his lips were devouring her and his tongue nudged against hers, begging for a fight.
She felt no sense of fighting, she felt submissive and wanted to surrender to what she knew would be pleasure in his arms. Until he broke the kiss to move down her neck, his hand sliding down between her legs, finding her damp already "Oh, you want me already, little slut?" he murmured against her skin.
The look she gave him, the flames burning in her eyes made him wince. He hadn't really meant to say that, it just tumbled from his mouth. She sat herself up on her elbows and glared at him, "I am not some-"
"I apologize, I was trying a pet name. It didn't suit you." he said quickly, manuvering his fingers around the elastic of her knickers, making small stroking motions and holding her eyes with his. If looks could kill, her glare would've done him in. "I know," another kiss to her lips, the fire in her eyes dwindling at his apology and she stopped squirming to get out of his lap, lost in the feelings he was stirring. "I didn't mean it to come across that way."
His fingers circled her clit firmly and she shuddered, "I'll find something that fits you better. I always figure you out eventually. Don't I always figure out what you'd like me to do? I can tell just by touching you. Is there something you want, Granger?" he kissed from her shoulder up to her ear, a smirk on his face while she stammered for words.
"Touch you? Take you? Make your legs quiver right here? I can do that." She turned her face to him, wanting to make him stop talking, make him kiss her, make him get on with it. The teasing he seemed to enjoy was frustrating enough. She rocked her hips up and instantly, he plunged his fingers into her. He tutted at her when she closed her eyes and threw her head back, "Nono, You're going to look at me. I want to watch your face as I make you moan my name."
Her cheeks felt hot again, remembering how hard it was to not call his name the last time he brought her to orgasm, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. Now, it seemed he noticed far too clearly that she had stopped herself then. Was there anything about her that he couldn't see right through? She was so thankful the room was dark and he couldn't see the blush on her face as he withdrew and slid his fingers back into her agonizingly slowly.
She let out a ragged breath, staring at him and drowning in the heat of his gaze. His eyes so dark, she went back and forth between them, only seeing determination. He picked up the pace just enough for her to raise her hips to meet each entry and her eyes again fluttered shut. She couldn't help it, pleasure came with closed eyes, it made everything feel more intense. "Granger," his tone grew strained, gravel like and she snapped her eyes back open.
He started curving his fingers, much the way his cock did when it was inside her and she groaned, keeping her gaze trained on him, biting her lip, doing her best to not give him what he wanted. She knew, deep down, it wasn't his satisfaction she was thinking about. She wanted him to push her over edge before she submitted to what he wanted. And he certainly did, his thumb brushing teasingly against her clit each time he pushed his fingers into her, he brought her to the very edge of orgasm before he leaned forward, his lips right against hers and he rasped, "Say it, angel."
Her thighs slammed closed over his hand, her back arching and her mouth panting as she tumbled over and his name tumbled past her lips in a shuddering moan. "Malfooyy", his fingers kept curling and rubbing gently, letting her ride out the waves shaking through her. She was gasping, trying to catch her breath but she caught a spark of victory as he pulled his digits out of her. He marveled at them in front of his face, making a satisfied noise, clearly pleased with himself. He wasn't expecting her to grab his wrists and pull it to her mouth, sucking the drip off his fingers and her tongue twirling around each tip sensually. She felt him, then. She felt the buldge in his pants against her arse and there was no way you could pretend that wasn't what it was. He swallowed thickly and tucked his hand under her knees, standing with her in his arms. He carried her around his arm chair and maneuvered past the coffee table.
"I was going to send you to bed but now..." he growled, laying her onto the couch, her hair spreading around her in a curly mess. He paused, observing her, "Angel doesn't quite work either, as beautiful as you look right now." he spoke, almost to himself but she still blushed. He pulled at the string on her dressing gown with steady hands, pushing the robe open. She kept her eyes trained on him while unbuttoned his sleep shirt and slid it off his shoulders. Then he kneeled on the couch between her legs, she felt a familiar fire in her chest. His breath against her for a split second before he dragged his tongue against her knickers, more soaked through than ever, and relished when her breath hitched. She still tasted fantastic, even through the fabric. Yet he could tell, he could SMELL, Ron on her still. He glanced up at her face and realized, the t-shirt she wore was his- because of course it was.
He reached up slowly, her eyes went wide when his hands went to the collar of her shirt, a split second thought of his hands on her neck made her clench her insides involuntarily. She wasn't that type of woman, she didn't like being choked or dominated in that way. The thought flew from her mind as he ripped the shirt straight down the middle. Her mouth hung open while he grasped both her breasts, squeezing. "Merlin, your body. That fool has no chance. You're going to be mine."
"How-how dare you!" She stammered, pulling her knees up and pushing him off her. He fell backwards, and tried scooting to the other end of the couch but she was advancing on him. The fire he loved was back in her eyes but he knew better than to be close when she looked that way, least he gets burned in her rage. "This isn't my shirt! You had no right to-" she crawled over his body to get right in his face, furious over several things but couldn't grasp one in particular. Her lips curled into a snarl, she straddled him, falling over words that weren't fully formed, but the message was clear. She was angry and she shoved his shoulders with her hands with every word for emphasis. "You. Don't. Own. Me. I'm not an object to be taken! Some-some trophy to win!!" She smacked his arm, angry he had the nerve to smirk at her. He distantly wondered if he should kiss her. She pulled her hand back to slap the look off his face but he snatched her wrist before she could make contact.
"I'm going to do what I want," he drawled, pressing his hips up into her core "because you want it too. And I didn't want to fuck you wearing his garbage clothes." He pushed at her robes and Ron's ripped shirt, moving them off her shoulders with one hand. His grip relaxing on her wrist and she yanked it out of his grasp, leaving him free to pinch a strained nipple and roll it between his fingers. She ripped the clothes down her arms and threw them on the floor, still angry but burning within.
"I am going to win you. He doesn't deserve any part of you." he stared up at her, internally excited that she was angry. Passionate Granger was sexy, undeniably so. He was more than excited to see how that fire translated to her body. She ran her nails down his chest, loving that he groaned and arched just a bit into her. It was easy to see why he was able to so easily carry her and lift her, she kept her face straight as she ran her hands over his chest again, the muscles clear under her fingertips.
She leaned over him and hovered, directly in his face, sneering "That's what you get when you fuck someones girlfriend." she slid a hand through his hair and spoke softly, almost coy, but he knew better. He could see her eyes and knew her passion was mirrored back by his own. She pulled his hair hard, making his head snap backwards and nipped and kissed along his jaw and down his neck. She was unhinged in a way he never saw before, he felt a touch anxious; he could normally predict her but she keeps surprising him. The fire was lit within him and he closed his eyes, relishing her sudden praise against his skin, her fingers tracing up and down his chest. Her lips were so soft. Until she reached the joint of his neck and shoulder and sunk her teeth into him. Hard.
He would've yelped if he wasn't so aroused. She made him bleed. He had pushed her so far that she broke his skin, between passion and hatred which was perfectly okay with him. He licked his lips, his voice faultering as the remaining thoughts flew straight to his cock. "Granger," he started, but she twirled her tongue as blood came to the surface and he decided whatever he had wanted to say was no longer important. He felt her hands pushing down on his sleep bottoms, shifting her hips and trying to get him as bare as she was. He quickly assisted and pushed his pants down to his knees, his cock swollen and needy. She didn't notice him kick them off the rest of his legs.
She was still, staring down between her legs at him. Her mind racing, there's no way that was the same one from last time. She couldn't believe it fit, the width was way more than she felt it was. The realization of putting that inside her felt heavy. It wasn't just a feeling that she didn't want to stop, this was full intentional sex and the guilt was trying to bubble to the surface.
There had been rumors too, of how he was not only sizeable but that he was blessed with a pretty cock too. She had rolled her eyes; no dick was pretty. They looked weird and the only time she felt any kind of way about one was when it was inside her or she was eager to do oral.
But it was pretty and she wanted it inside her. She sat her hips back down, her knickers soaked but she still rocked her hips against his length. She glanced around the room, her eyebrows furrowing. "What's wrong?" he asked, breathing hard, her moving against his lap getting him worked up.
"Wand." she twisted to look behind her and he moaned, grabbing her hips and pushing against her. "Mine's in my room. We can't without-" He hushed her, sliding his hands down to her lower abdomen. He focused intensly and muttered under his breath before small glowing swirls came from his fingertips.
He looked up at her, a smirk being dangerously close to a grin as he said, "I've been practicing that for you." He ran his thumbs under her knickers elastic band, small and lacey and he felt a bit of a jealous spike in his chest. These were obviously something she wore for her boyfriend.
She gave him a smirking response, "I think it will come in handy more for yourself than me, Malfoy." She imagined being able to cast contraceptive spell without his wand would be most handy for an elgible bachelor with status. She looked at him and then down at her underwear, a small blush coloring her cheeks, embarrassment taking over her bitterness. "These you can rip off. I'll never wear them again." She didn't think she could handle showing these to Ron ever again after grinding on Draco in them. It's all she would think about.
"Are you going to bite me again if I do?" he raised his eyebrow at her, letting his thumbs stroke her hip bones as she meekly shook her head.
"What if I asked nicely?" He reached up a hand to the nape of her neck and pulled her forward to lock his lips to hers. Lustfully pressing open mouthed kisses while he tugged with one hand, trying to rip the lace. He had to grip the side with both hands and yank with force to fully tear one side off and he pushed the tiny garment down her other leg, finally leaving her bare to him. He hissed against her as her slick wetness came in full contact with his hard on. "Fuck," he dropped his head back to the arm rest, eyes closed.
She tutted at him, putting her forehead against his as she raised herself up, he absentmindedly gripped his base tonstand it up and she angled herself, ready. "Look at me." She ordered. His eyes were glued to hers as she lowered down onto him, a breathy moan coming out of her perfect red lips, her eyes sparkling and his wide and swirling with lust, a long breath coming out of his mouth like he had been holding it in.
He jerked his hips up but she settled her hands onto his pelvis, "Don't you dare move."
He groaned, "Anything you ask, darling." and immediately winced. That didn't sound right either.
She placed her palms on his chest and leaned forward and backwards, slowly starting to rock against him, giving him a little smile and saying, "No darling. My Dad calls me that." and she slid back down onto him, both of them moaning lightly, her slow movement being sweet torture.
He grabbed her hips and held her still, sitting up to put his chin on her sternum and look up at her. "I know you're new here, but don't ever talk about your parents when someones cock is inside you. Unless you're calling him, 'Daddy'," he smirked as she made a face, her nose scrunched and yet, a glint of amusement in her eyes. He pulled a breast into his mouth and gently nipped and sucked, making her arch her back and start sliding up and down him again.
He let go with a wet pinch with his lips and grabbed her abdomen, pushing her to lean back. "Lean backwards a little bit. Trust me, sweetheart, Ohh, no, that doesn't work ei- MERLIN FUCK, that works. That works so well. Salazar's sack that's wonderful." He dropped back against the couch, pushing up into her as she arched just the right amount while he spoke. Words coming out in groans and gasps as his cock curved and pressed even harder into her special spot inside. His thumb stumbled around her front, searching for her clit.
There was no way he was going to finish before she did, he bit the inside of his cheek and thought of Hagrid in a bubble bath. Dumbledore in fishnets. Anything but the feast his eyes had before him. Feeling her tense in an echo of her orgasm approaching. He helped her rock against him, enjoying her absolute nonsense babbling as she got ever closer. "C'mon now, princess."
That word struck something in her as she wildly jerked against him, her throat letting a feral moan out from deep in her chest and she spazzumed around him, her nails digging into his sides. He was actually afraid, worried he broke her somehow. He sat up quickly, his arm steadying her along her back and holding her to him, he placed a hand against her face, trying to get her to look at him. She made whimpering sounds, still rocking her hips, which did nothing to calm his fears. But when she dropped her head down to latch onto his lips, he relaxed, even though her body was still trembling. He gathered his legs under him and leaned her back onto the couch, thanking any and every God in existance that she just had an orgasm and not a seizure.
That would be a fun meeting with the Headmaster. 'I swear, she was having a great time and then suddenly she died.' he thought. A smirk slid on his face as he leaned over her, bracing on one arm as he brushed hair from her face, admiring the thin layer of sweat over her body that made her glisten just the right way. "It seems we found your pet name, Granger."
"Shut up," she gasped out, her chest heaving for air, her thighs twitching in the aftershock.
"I can't believe princess is what did it for you. I thought you were having a fit. I was worried I'd have to carry you to the infirmary. Can you imagine? "Draco, you fucked her to death, what were you thinking!?" It's a compliment, sure but-"
"Oh my god, stop talking." she hissed, shoving him lightly. "Your ego needs a break."
He looked pensive for a moment before saying, "That's brat behavior. You're bratty, princess." He was sliding his hand between her breasts and up to her collarbone before going back down again, soothingly.
"I am not," she scowled, her lower lip pouting out. He kissed it.
"You are, but I know how to handle brats too." In a blink, he suddenly had his hand around her neck, very lightly squeezing, meeting her eyes and smirking again at the flash of excitment she had in them. "Mmm, definitely a brat." he caught her lips in another kiss that stroked the flames in her belly.
"I do not-! I'm not- Ugh, you prat." She pushed at him, trying to get up but melting into his continuous kisses. He placed a purposeful kiss on each eyelid before he accidentally shifted his hips forward and his length rubbed against her, still obviously hard. Her look of realization was quick and embarrassed. "You didn't-" he shrugged at her, kissing all over her chest, letting the feeling of affectionate take over and pour out of him. If he wanted to win her over, he had to make her realize just how excellent he was at all aspects, including post coital attention. And make sure she knew that the last thing he was concerned with was his own completion.
"He will calm down eventually," he went to sit up but meeting her eyes made him dip back down again to kiss her. "Merlin, I'm just obsessed with your lips," he brushed his thumb over them, following the curve of her smile. He pulled himself away and off of her, ignoring his erection bobbing about as he searched for his not ripped to shreds pajama shirt. He couldn't send her to bed naked, knowing his competition was there.
"Why did you want me to have a nickname so badly?" she had rolled to her side, watching him shuffle around the room.
"Because," he stooped to pick up his bottoms and pulled his pants on. "I want to have a special name for you. I want to call you Princess in front of everyone and watch you blush."
A faint red spread across her cheeks and she felt a bit annoyed and excited. A pet name from a lover felt almost like a secret language. And that particular name would make her think of her, for lack of a better word, violent orgasm just minutes ago. He clearly knew this because he rose from behind her with his button down in his hands. "Well then, it's only fair I give you one as well." She said leaning her head back to look at him.
He snorted a laugh, "Good luck with that." He preened a bit, "Nothing beats my name. It fits me perfectly."
"Baby. Luv. Dearie, oh ew. No" she scrunched her nose in distaste. He glared at her.
"Don't even bother. Nothing will work." He held out his button down shirt to her, finished with her little joke but she continued on.
"Sugar. Honey. Pumpkin!" He rolled his eyes and put the shirt around her shoulders as she had sat up on her knees, excitedly listing names and hoping one would make him feel embarrassed like she felt when he called her Princess.
"Oh, we're on foods now. Lovely! Put that on."
She stopped her list, looking at his shirt around her, "I can't wear this back to bed. He will undoubtedly notice."
He placed his hands on her knees and leaned down to smile at her. "I will eat that shirt if he notices." She tried to calm her heart suddenly beating violently in her chest. His sudden smile was warm and comforting, like she was discovering he could be too. She glanced down to his lips and then his still semi-hard on pressing up through his pants against his stomach.
She bit her lip nervously and he followed her gaze. When she reached out to touch him, he slapped her hand and stepped back. "Only good girls get to touch." He chided her. "And it is much too late for you. Get up. Or I'll drag you back to my bed and treat you like a bad girl."
She stood and slid her hands through the sleeves and began buttoning it up. She pointed over to her dressing gown and he picked it up, handing it to her and crumpling Ron's torn shirt in his hands. "Give that to me. I'll mend it tomorrow."
He grunted and reluctantly handed it over, "it belongs in the bin." He muttered as she stuffed it into her gown pocket. She tugged on the end of her sleeve, feeling a wave of guilt surface once again with the realization she was about to go crawl into bed next to her boyfriend.
She didn't meet his eyes as she walked around him towards the staircase. He raised an eyebrow, feeling her shift in mood but the last thing he wanted was to upset her anymore. She paused at the first step before she turned around. "Dragonfly"
His head snapped up at her words. "Pardon?" He felt his cheeks get warm and based on the look on her face, she could tell he was flustered.
She smiled that big smile of hers wide and bright. "I'll call you dragonfly." She turned and hopped up the stairs, "Good Night."
He felt his throat tighten when he tried to swallow. His mind racing back to his childhood and the images of little dragonflies on bedroom walls.
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