Good

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at [Link]

Rating: Explicit
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: F/M
Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Relationship: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Characters: Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Ginny Weasley, Blaise Zabini
Additional Tags: BDSM, Dom/sub, Explicit Sexual Content, Dirty Talk, Co-workers, Size Kink,
Oral Sex, Public Sex, Dom Draco Malfoy, Sub Hermione Granger, Come
Kink, Praise Kink, no non-con, no infidelity, Edging, Sex Toys, Multiple
Orgasms, Mutual Masturbation, Spanking, Breathplay, Shibari, Ass Play,
Spreader Bars, Light Bondage, Orgasm Denial, Anal Sex, Double Penetration,
Life Changing Oral Sex
Language: English
Stats: Published: 2019-10-24 Completed: 2023-02-14 Words: 46,449 Chapters: 7/7
 Good
by LovesBitca8

Summary

He stood, buttoned his robes, and came around her desk to lean against the front. “Blaise told me
you’re looking for something specific.”

She blinked at him, wondering if she could reach for the emergency Portkey she kept in her shelves
and disappear to St. Mungo’s before he could stop her. Her mouth opened, voice beginning to
squeak a response.

“And I just wanted to drop by,” he cut her off and tilted his head, “and say that I’m flattered. But I
won’t be taking you on.”

“That’s—that’s not—what?”

“I don’t think we’d be a good fit,” he said simply, like he was interviewing her for a secretary
position.

Notes

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY SWEET CUPCAKE. :) This is my Dom Draco fic that I teased a
year ago, and I thought it would be appropriate to dedicate it to raven_maiden for her birthday. She
is the D to my s.

Thank you to Graendoll for Beta'ing, and monsterleadmehome for Beta and moodboard!

If you're not feeling up to reading some new kinks, that's fine fam. Just move along. Tags will be
updated with each chapter.
 Chapter 1

"And he slapped me. Hermione! He slapped me."

"Mm, yes, I heard you."

"Me! And I let him." Ginny sloshed her drink around its glass as she gestured to the room with
a Come on! Do you believe this? expression. "Hermione," Ginny said, placing her glass back on the
tabletop, leveling a direct stare at her. "I came. So hard."

"That's great, Ginny."

"So many times."

"Happy for you."

"Like... maybe seven."

"Sounds like a keeper." Hermione looked around the bar, wondering if anyone else was as
uncomfortable as she was to hear that her friend was getting beat up in the bedroom.
"Oh, no." Ginny laughed, shaking her head and gesturing to the bartender for another. "Zabini and I
aren't dating or anything." She squished her face together and whispered, "Merlin forbid."

"A bit of fun is completely normal—"

"But I mean," Ginny continued. "It's insane —the things he can do to my body. I never thought I'd
let anyone treat me like that in bed, but I really, really like it. It's so freeing to just do what he says
and just… orgasm."

"Sure."

Hermione sipped her drink, enjoying another Friday evening out with Ginny Weasley. Ginny
Weasley who'd had more sex in the last month than Hermione had seen in her life.

"Hermione." Ginny set down her empty glass and took her hand as if she was about to tell her the
secret to life. "You need to try it."

Grimacing, she squeezed Ginny's hand and said, "It really doesn't sound like my thing, Gin."

"Does it seem like it's mine?" Ginny laughed. "Hermione, you're so busy at work and always
volunteering your time. You deserve some stress relief!"

"This is my stress relief. Going out on Fridays with you!"

"Hermione. I'm talking about a different kind of stress relief."

"I know, Ginny."

"A physical kind—"

"I get it."

"A release—"

"Ginny—"

"Sex, Hermione. I'm talking about sex."

"Got it. Thank you for clarifying."

Ginny flashed the bartender a flirty wink and turned back to Hermione. "When was the last time
you had a decent shag?"

Hermione cast her eyes about for eavesdroppers before tugging at her buttoned sleeves and saying,
"I had a lovely time with Seamus that once."

"Lovely time?" Ginny pulled a face and knocked back the entirety of her second martini while
Hermione played with her olive. "Merlin's tits, Hermione. When was the last time you had an
orgasm that you didn't give yourself?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and her mouth opened to respond that… to respond that… well, fuck.
She blinked down at her olive, swimming by itself in a pool of gin. Surely Seamus had gotten her
off… or perhaps McLaggen had, when he'd used his fingers in the back of the Knight Bus that
drunken night?

"Well?"

"I'm… trying to recall."

Ginny's eyes widened, and Hermione watched the pity form in her expression. "Oh, Merlin—"

"It's not like I don't have good sex!" she huffed. "I do. I have great sex!"

The old man with a grey beard on the other side of Ginny gave her a once over, and even he
seemed unconvinced.

Hermione lowered her voice and continued, "It's just that… if I know how to get myself off, why
leave it in their hands? Missing an opportune orgasm can really ruin the evening, so — so if I can
just… reach down and give myself a hand…"

Ginny stared at her like she was a sideshow attraction, the olive pick hanging limply from her
parted lips. "Oh no, no, no. This won't do. This won't do at all." Ginny signaled to the bartender
with a gesture infused with such confidence that Hermione couldn't dream of mastering it. She
plucked a Muggle pen from her handbag and wrote on the bar napkin. "This is Zabini's address.
Floo him when you get home, and just say you're looking for a bit of relaxation—"

"Ginny! I can't just… sleep with your boyfriend!"

"He's not my boyfriend! We're not at all exclusive. He has multiple partners and he'd love to hear
from you."

Hermione gaped at her, wrapping her mind around actively sharing a sexual partner with a close
friend. It was all very… modern.

"I wouldn't be comfortable with that, Ginny. I'm sorry." She stared down into her gin and said, "I
don't have a problem with casual sex, really. But I couldn't enjoy myself if the bloke was
seeing multiple people."

Ginny lifted a teasing brow. "Well, that is casual sex," she said with a laugh, and then her eyes
widened. "Oh! OH!"

Looking at the ginger over the top of her martini glass, Hermione winced and said, "What?"

"Oh wow." Ginny looked like she'd discovered the secrets to the universe. "I've had the most
brilliant idea. Malfoy."

The phrases didn't connect in Hermione's mind, so she took a moment to ask Ginny to clarify,
convinced she'd clearly just suffered an aneurysm.

"Draco Malfoy," Ginny said slowly. "He's a Dom, like Blaise. He takes on a new sub every month."

It was Hermione's turn for an aneurysm. "He's a… and he's… Malfoy?"

"Oh, you two would be delicious together!" Ginny signed the check without even consulting
Hermione and started to drag her off the stool towards the Floo. "There's all that sexy history—"

"Sexy history? I'm failing to recall which parts were sexy—"

"And he's gorgeous. I mean, have you seen him around the Ministry?"

She had. He was.

His features weren't so pointed as they were in school, and he dressed in the nicest suits his money
could buy, highlighting his lean body. He greeted her in the mornings in the lift with a smirk and a
lifted brow and asked her about her weekends with a smarmy grin. She shared meetings with him
and watched his fingers twirl his quill with a deft technique that had her wondering things—

But he was also still an insufferable arse who believed he knew better than anyone else, taunting
her about her failed projects and his celebrated successes. He had a cool temper that surfaced
whenever he was bested. It didn't surprise her one bit that Draco Malfoy liked to tie girls up on the
weekends and slap them around. No, what truly surprised her was Ginny's suggestion.

"Ginny… Draco Malfoy wouldn't sleep with me."

Scoffing, Ginny said, "Trust me, Hermione. Men aren't nearly as picky as we assume them to be."

Ginny grabbed the vase of Floo powder, and before she could toss a handful into the fire, Hermione
caught her wrist.

"No, no. I mean… He was quite the bully to me, if you remember. Never said a kind word to me in
my life—"

"Well, it doesn't sound like your relationship will change much then," Ginny said, grinning widely
at her.

"This can't be healthy. To — to have a childhood bully"—her voice dropped lower—"dominate you
in the bedroom."

"Well, who would you ask to do it?" Ginny laughed. "Harry? Ron?"

Hermione's face scrunched in disgust, and she shook her head. "I'm not asking anyone to do
it. You're the one pushing me to get strung from the ceiling."

Ginny dropped her arm, Floo powder sprinkling all over the stones. "'Strung from the ceiling?' My,
my. What an active imagination we have," she said, and Hermione rolled her eyes. "I just want you
to experience this great thing that I'm experiencing. I think you'd like it."

"I'll think about it Ginny."

Hermione leaned in for a hug, squeezing Ginny to her. Ginny gasped and jerked away. "Sorry.
Nipples are quite sore."

Hermione blinked down at her and nodded in bewilderment as she stepped through the Floo.

~*~
The following Monday, Hermione sat at her desk at the Ministry after finishing the final crouton on
the salad she crunched on every day precisely at half-past noon. She usually ate at her desk, never
one to socialize when there was research or work to do. Occasionally Harry or Ron would drop by
her office, but it was becoming rarer and rarer as each of them now had significant others to dote
on.

She pushed her quill and ink pot back into their positions and took her trash to the rubbish bin in
the kitchenette area, passing co-workers who were nowhere near the ends of their lunches even as
the clock ticked.

Turning the corner back into her private office, she jumped to find Draco Malfoy sitting in her desk
chair, twirling her quill.

"Officer Granger."

Her mind flew to whips and chains and satin sheets and bruised nipples before anchoring back to
the present.

"There's no need for 'Officer,' Mr. Malfoy." She clasped her hands, dropped them, clasped them
again, and then decided to fold them behind her back. "I am not an Auror, I simply work on the
files."

"Noted," he said. His grey eyes hadn't left her face from the moment she stepped inside. "Well then
with all due respect, I'd prefer 'Counselor Malfoy'. If you wouldn't mind terribly."

Her blood simmered and her eyes narrowed. At twenty-five he'd become the youngest Counselor
on the Wizengamot in four hundred years. How could she forget.

"Of course, Counselor. What brings you by?"

He'd never come directly to her for anything work-related, so as she stood awkwardly in her own
doorway, she felt a twisting, sickly feeling in her stomach.

He stood, buttoned his robes, and came around her desk to lean against the front. "Blaise told me
you're looking for something specific."

She blinked at him, wondering if she could reach for the emergency Portkey she kept in her shelves
and disappear to St. Mungo's before he could stop her. Her mouth opened, voice beginning to
squeak a response.

"And I just wanted to drop by," he cut her off and tilted his head, "and say that I'm flattered. But I
won't be taking you on."

"That's—that's not—what?"

"I don't think we'd be a good fit," he said simply, like he was interviewing her for a secretary
position.

"I… I wasn't…" She took a steady breath and said, "I wasn't interested. Ginny was prying and
jumped to conclusions." She sneered at him. "I wasn't going to ever approach you—"

"Nor should you. The Dominant should approach you." He lifted a haughty brow at her, like
scolding her for not playing by the rules. She opened her mouth to bite back when he cut in, "If you
would like, I could introduce you to a few groups where Doms and subs meet and get to know each
other—"

"No! No, no." She smoothed her skirt. "Er, no. No thank you."

"So that's a no, then?" he deadpanned.

She glared at him. "I am not interested in that… um, lifestyle. So, it's unnecessary."

His brows lifted playfully. "Oh, so it's me you were interested in?" Her jaw dropped open, and she
tried to string together a response before he cut in and said, "It's alright, Granger. Your secret's safe
with me." He stood from her desk with a wink, moving to leave.

She sputtered, "That's… not at all what I meant."

"Apologies that it couldn't work out," he said, running a hand through his hair in that obnoxious
way that drew everyone's gaze.

Her blood simmered. "I'm sure you're all booked for the next month. Already have a girl hanging
by her thumbs in your dungeon."

He turned to her, lifting a brow, a smirk tugging his lips. "Have you done any research on
Dominant/submissive relationships, Hermione Granger?" The way his voice curled around her
name made her feel like she was back at Hogwarts, being reprimanded for not doing her reading.

"I… I didn't need to. I knew I wasn't interested."

His eyes slid over her and she felt it burn across her covered skin. "You know, I never said you'd be
a poor submissive. I simply said we wouldn't match."

She tried to button her mouth closed but it slipped out all the same. "And why is that?"

A gleam in his eyes, like he'd gotten what he wanted. "You're too green for me, Granger." His hand
on the doorknob as he said, "You're uninformed. A shame, really."

His gaze danced over her one last time before exiting, closing the door softly behind him like he'd
never been there at all.

~*~

The internet held a magic all of its own — something that magical folk would never condescend to
use. While Hermione had missed a lot of the technological advances while she was at Hogwarts,
she still knew her way around a computer. At least she thought she did, until a site called
DomDaddy sent her a virus wiping out her entire hard drive.

She took her desktop computer to a shop, and went to the library instead, creeping through the
aisles like a thief. Something about the way Malfoy called her "uninformed" had gotten under her
skin. She was never uninformed.

Closing a book entitled Naughty Nautical Knots, Hermione huffed and stared out the window. Why
she had decided to spend her Tuesday evening looking up Dominant and submissive relationships
was beyond her. Malfoy was getting under her skin — more so than usual. Her skin felt tight
whenever she thought about their conversation in her office. Slipping the book back on the shelf
with a glance over her shoulder, she resolved herself to go home and not think of ropes or
blindfolds or Draco Malfoy again.

~*~

"He spanked me, Hermione. Like a child," Ginny whispered theatrically, holding her martini with
both hands like a bowl of soup.

"And… was that sexually stimulating?" Hermione asked with a wince.

"Oh, fuck yes."

Hermione frowned, biting off her olive and chomping petulantly.

"Hermione. He used my arse as a punching bag."

"I've got the idea, Ginny."

"I have a picture of the bruise."

"I don't need to see it."

"It's black, Hermione—"

"Ginny." Hermione stopped her and leveled a stare at her friend. "What is it that you find so
arousing about that kind of experience?"

Ginny blinked at her with a smile. "Oh, being spanked is lovely, Hermione. You really have to try it
some time." She tossed back the rest of her martini, signaling for another. "Besides, it's not always
the spanking itself, it's the moments after. The way he takes care of me."

Hermione sighed, feeling inexplicably itchy today. "So he hurts you, and then apologizes for it.
That's how this works?"

Ginny's eyes snapped to her at her judgmental tone. "I suppose if that's how you want to see it. But
he doesn't do anything I don't want him to do. We have boundaries and rules. There's nothing
dangerous about it."

She hated not understanding things, and it seemed like this was going to be a long road for her. She
breathed deeply, took another sip of her martini, and said, "So what is it you get out of it?"

"Hm. Well, I suppose my favorite thing about it is that I don't have to think of my own pleasure.
Someone else is looking out for me, and ensuring that I enjoy myself."

"Couldn't you get the same from a… a more normal relationship? With a trusted companion?"

"I haven't yet," Ginny scoffed. "Just think about it Hermione! We're not splitting the cheque at the
restaurant. We're not arguing about what to do on the weekends. We're not searching pockets for
proof of betrayal! We're just getting each other off, and then going our separate ways. And
he enjoys getting me off. So I'm guaranteed to come at least twice."

Twice. Hermione's brows lifted. She could barely come once when she was by herself. She couldn't
imagine having a second orgasm wrenched from her.
"So…" Ginny ran her finger around the rim of her glass. "Zabini is going to meet me here in about
ten minutes."

"Oh. Sure." Hermione tried not to feel as if she'd been ditched. "No, that's fine. I'll just finish up
and then—"

"You can stay!" Ginny grabbed her arm. "I didn't mean you have to leave. Just that he's going to
grab a drink." She flagged the bartender. "Do you want another? I have to drink quickly. He doesn't
like it when I've had more than one."

Hermione narrowed her eyes, about to say something, before she decided to let it go, declining the
drink. She'd read up on the "daddy" aspect of all of this, and found herself completely disgusted
with that route.

Ginny rambled on about work at the Prophet and Skeeter's latest meltdown, all while keeping her
eye on the door. Hermione grew quieter and quieter, glad to listen and try to understand. She
watched Ginny's eyes brighten momentarily with a glance to the opening door, before continuing
with her story. Zabini must have arrived.

When she took a breath for air, Hermione said, "Did you want to say hello?"

"Oh, no," Ginny said, waving her off. "He'll come to me. He'll be put out that I didn't go running to
him." She wiggled her brows. "Besides, I need to flirt with the bartender a bit first."

Hermione turned her head and found Zabini — more handsome than she'd remembered — at the
other end of the bar, talking to the blond prick who'd walked in with him — the bane of her
existence for the past week. Hermione's heart sped up, and her cheeks flushed. Downing the rest of
her drink as Ginny leaned over the bar to speak with the tall bloke serving drinks, Hermione
excused herself to the restroom so Ginny could continue whatever game she was playing.

She waited for one of two bathroom doors to open and squeezed past the girl tottering by in her
too-high heels. Staring at herself in the bathroom mirror, Hermione patted down her flushed cheeks.

Was she hiding from Draco Malfoy in a bathroom? Possibly.

But why was he here? Trying to pick up his next "rope bunny?" (She'd learned that term on the
internet.)

She resigned herself to throwing down a few coins on the bar, saying goodbye to Ginny, and
strutting out the door — quickly.

Yanking open the door, she stopped dead to see Malfoy leaning against the opposite wall, eyes
flickering up to her with a smug grin.

"Granger. What a surprise."

"Malfoy," she greeted and tried stepping out of his way to scurry back to her handbag and coat.

"Counselor Malfoy, if you please."

He winked at her, and she ground her teeth. Spinning back and unable to hold her tongue, she said,
"No. I don't think so. As we are not at the Ministry, and as I am not beholden to you by any kind
of submissive relationship, I shall call you whatever I like."
His brows shot up, and his lips twitched. "Sensitive subject for you, Granger?"

"Not at all," she said, sticking her nose in the air. "In fact, I've done some research on the topic —
now that someone has called me green — and I found that I was right. It's not for me."

Tilting his head, his eyes scanned her, dropping over her collarbones and chest before dipping
down to her hips. "And why's that? What kind of research did you do?"

She planted her feet and crossed her arms. "I looked it up. On the internet and at the library."

His eyes returned to her face and a gleeful expression crossed his face. "Oh really? Hermione
Granger looking at dirty pictures in the library?"

"Not dirty pictures. Articles. Books. I wasn't watching pornography, if that's what you mean."

"Ah." He smirked. "So you've done reading. Any plans to do any practical research, Granger?"

"No." She scowled. "I'm not prowling for a Dom, Malfoy." She stomped away, back towards the
bar, looking forward to a hot bath and a glass of wine and a good book and not thinking about him
again—

"Just because I declined is no reason to give up—"

"And why?" She hissed. "Why not 'take me on,' as you said?"

She watched his eyes flicker and felt her cheeks heat. She should have just kept walking — past the
bar and out the door.

"I don't take on inexperienced subs," he said, leaning casually on the wall in a way that highlighted
the long lines of his torso. "It's the responsibility of it all. Teaching the intricacies of submissive
relationships can be quite taxing as well."

"But you already know I'm a quick learner—" Her jaw shut quickly, but it was too late. The smirk.
The damn smirk was back. She was practically begging Draco Malfoy to tie her up and flog her to
death. "Oh god."

She spun on her heel, ready to run, when she heard, "Granger, how many drinks have you had?"

Huffing, she said, "I've had one, thank you. Is alcohol moderation part of this whole thing? It's
ridiculous, really."

He stood tall again, and pushed open the bathroom door. "It's just that I'd like to know if you're
drunk before I invite you into this bathroom with me."

She felt her cheeks burn and her skin vibrate. "No," she said in a small voice. "I'm not drunk."

He hummed, and disappeared into the small room. Hermione stood still as stone before her shaking
legs carried her through the door he was holding open for her.

She'd just been in this restroom just moments ago, but it looked much different. Suddenly it was too
small and too hot, and the mirror carried Draco Malfoy's reflection as well, which was… very
strange. She watched him watch her in the mirror, one hand playing with a ring on his finger.
"When was the last time you had sex, Granger?"

Well. Right to it. "Um. It's… Probably a few months?" Her neck turned red with embarrassment.
She watched the blush stain under her ears and jaw.

"How many? A number, please?" He stared at her calmly, still twisting his ring.

Her gaze fell to the sink instead of her reflection as she counted out the months between Seamus
and now. "Four."

"And how long since you last made yourself come?"

Hermione's eyes widened at the very clean sink, watching the water drip slowly from the faucet.
"Excuse me?" She looked up to find him stepping up behind her.

"When was your last orgasm?"

"That's… hardly your business, Malfoy."

"I plan to make it my business." His voice was low, shivering her skin.

She stepped away from the sink, unable to watch the two of them in the mirror. "Sunday. I… touch
myself on the weekends, usually."

She didn't hear any judgement in his voice when he said, "So you haven't come in five days?"

Shaking her head, she glanced up at him and had to quickly look away when she saw the warm
look in his eyes.

"And do you use a toy? Or your fingers?"

A sharp laugh burst from her chest, and she took a step back as he advanced. "That's not really… I
don't…" She was blushing like a school girl at the mention of sex. Hermione buttoned her lips and
met Malfoy's eyes, watching her patiently. "I used to have a toy. But the batteries wore down. I,
um… I suppose I should look into magical toys, but—"

"That's alright," he whispered. There was a fire in his eyes, but any of the mockery she usually
associated with conversations with Draco Malfoy was absent. "Both methods are equally fine."

She nodded her head a bit too forcefully, feeling her curls bounce. "And uh… what about you?"
She gestured to him flippantly, immediately regretting the stupidity of that question.

His eyes crinkled in a smile, something she'd never seen before. "When was the last time I came?"

"Right. No need to answer—"

"This morning."

She nodded down at their shoes, something twisting in her stomach as she said, "Right. Your
current sub?" She tried not to imagine a girl tied to his bed at this very moment, waiting for him to
return—

"No," he said softly. "I don't have a sub right now."

"Oh." Her breath felt shallow in her chest. "Alright. Is this my interview?" She laughed lightly.

"Something like that." His hand reached for her cheek, and she gasped to feel his fingertips on her
skin, tilting her face up. She met his eyes — dark and excited. "You think you can follow
instructions?"

Her pulse thrummed, and the very real possibility of doing this, here, had her lips curling into a
smile. "You know I've always been a rule follower."

"Very well. On your knees, Granger."

She blinked at him, feeling a bit lost. She should have known, really, that Draco Malfoy would aim
to humiliate her. That it wouldn't be about her. It would be about him.

He smirked at her. "Do you have a problem with that? We can always stop."

Whatever spell she'd been under while Draco Malfoy asked about her sex life and spoken to her
softly about her orgasms had just been broken.

"I just… Is this how it will be?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, Granger," he said with a smirk. "Did you think you were the only one getting off in
this arrangement?"

She glared at him, wondering what she was willing to do. She wasn't particularly fond of oral sex.
Cormac had enjoyed it quite a bit and usually was finished with her once he came, claiming to be
too tired or sometimes trying with half the effort to finish her. But was this something all Doms and
subs did?

"Generally, I like to be with a partner who likes to give as well as receive," Malfoy said. "So if
that's not what you're looking for in this, I understand."

She frowned at him. Ginny liked this. Quite a lot. Perhaps Zabini treated her differently because
they weren't old school rivals, but Ginny claimed to get off multiple times in one evening. And
Hermione wondered what that was like.

Lowering to her knees in the small space between their bodies, she steadied herself on his stomach,
feeling his muscles twitch under her fingers.

She reached for his belt buckle, focusing on keeping her fingers steady, before he stopped her with
a soft grip on her wrist. The light from the ceiling shone through his hair as he looked down at her.

"I haven't given you instructions," he whispered, his consonants crisp and vowels low and breathy.
Her eyes narrowed in confusion. He shifted her hands away, starting to unbutton himself. "Hands
behind your back."

Blinking up at him, distracted by his deft fingers, it took her a few moments to hear him properly.
"Behind my back?"

"Mm-hmm." His trousers were open, and he pushed them to hang low on his hips. "Those are the
instructions."
She waited for him to peel down his black briefs or pull himself out. He didn't. Instead, the bulge
faced her down.

"How am I expected to work with this?" She snorted, looking up to find him grinning down at her.

"Think of it like a puzzle, Granger. I know you love puzzles." His eyes gleamed at her, and his fists
tightened at his sides, like he was keeping from reaching for her.

Hermione brought her gaze back to his crotch, watching him twitch in his briefs. She sat up on her
knees, and her hands started to reach for his hips before she remembered, and clasped them behind
her back. Before she moved closer, he breathed out, "Good."

The affirmation was soft and pleased, not condescending like she would have associated with this
moment. She ignored a shiver spreading across her shoulders and leaned in, pressing her face to the
bulge in front of her.

She felt like an idiot — rubbing her face into his crotch. She probably needed to use her teeth to
pull down his briefs. Her hands twitched behind her back, logic warring with instructions.
Stretching up, she tried to bite the elastic band clinging low to his hips to drag it down. She
struggled a bit, the band snapping to his skin every time she failed. Malfoy's stomach muscles
tightened and released, his breath coming quicker, and she felt his erection grow against her chin.

She huffed, feeling defeated, and leaned back to frown at the cock-shaped problem in front of her.
Considering him for a moment, she realized he was… large. Which was aggravating. It would be
much more of a consolation for this failed blow job if she could say, Oh, well. He had a small prick
anyway.

Eyeing the opening in the front, she leaned in, teeth pulling softly at the fabric. Malfoy gasped
quietly, and she looked up to find him staring hotly at her, face tense and concentrated.

In her limited number of blow jobs she'd given, Hermione had never experienced someone
watching her like Malfoy was. Cormac would lie back, eyes closed and resting while she did all the
work. Her one experience with Ron was disastrous, but also another case of him not watching her,
saying it was "too much." And then he came, without warning.

Malfoy watched her like her battle with his briefs was the Quidditch World Cup. Her skin felt hot,
encouraging her to hold his gaze while she pressed an open-mouth kiss to the tent in his briefs. His
lips twitched.

"Good."

Her lashes fluttered up at him as she breathed deep, ready to continue working his cock out of his
briefs. His hand reached forward and cupped her cheek while his other reached into the elastic,
pulling out his cock. He opened his smirking mouth, but Hermione beat him to it.

"What are you doing? I didn't win." Her shoulders ached with the strain of keeping them behind her
back. She had just spent several minutes attempting to work him out of his pants, and now he'd
jumped ahead?

"You did in my book," he said, smiling. "I wanted to see if you'd actually try."
His hand began stroking himself. She blinked up at him, doing her best to ignore his movements.
"Oh. Did I look ridiculous then?"

"No. The opposite."

From the corner of her eye, she found his thumb rubbing circles around his head. She swallowed,
and allowed her eyes to drift back to the task at hand. She was about to lean in again and begin
when he stopped her.

"One thing before you start." His voice was low, echoing lightly in the small bathroom. His other
hand brushed her cheek, and he said, "I have one rule for all my partners." She stared up at him,
ready to hear something ridiculous or insulting or demeaning. His eyes burned into hers, and he
said, "I get to come wherever I want."

She almost corrected him to "whenever," because that made more sense to her, when she suddenly
had the image of her wearing his spend on her clothing or in her hair or—

"I'm not walking out into that bar with your come on my face."

He smiled, and directed his cock towards her mouth. "I'll clean you up first. Always."

She frowned, and looked down to consider whether she was going through with this. He seemed to
be letting her decide, not pulling her face to him or forcing himself between her lips.

He was bigger than McLaggen. Thicker than Ron. She'd never had someone this big inside of her,
much less her mouth. Fuck, she hated that he had every reason to be as arrogant as he was.

She looked back to his face, opened her lips, and let him push the tip into her mouth. His eyes were
hot as she closed over him, running her tongue over his head, pressing lightly underneath. One of
his hands braced himself on the wall behind her, his other dropping from her jaw to fist at his hip.

When she released him with a soft pressure on the tip, she regretted it immediately, as she didn't
have her hands to bring him back to her mouth. She felt like an idiot, losing her straw in her glass
or bobbing for apples as she dipped her chin to bring him back into her mouth. Her cheeks burned,
and she glanced up to gauge how humiliated she should feel.

Not at all, was the answer to that. Malfoy's eyes hadn't left her, and he wasn't laughing. Hermione's
skin was hot and her stomach was twisting with something dark.

She let her tongue slide along his length, licking up and over, feeling him twitch and grow. She
took him in her mouth again, letting her lips slide up and back, bobbing her head and pressing her
tongue to him.

His breath grew louder, and when she looked up to check on him, her lips still wrapped around his
cock, she found him leaning heavily on the wall, staring down at her still.

"You look beautiful with my cock in your mouth."

Her brows narrowed, and she wanted to snort a laugh. What a stupid thing to say.

"Used to think about this at Hogwarts, Granger," he continued. "Used to wonder if I could shut you
up with my cock. Or if you'd still try talking with your mouth full."
A blush rose in her cheeks, and she pulled her mouth off of him. "That's despicable," she spat.

He chuckled. "It's true. I'd sit in Binns' class and watch you answer questions and jump up and
down, and I wondered if you'd bounce like that on my cock." He winked at her and she scowled
back. "Give me your hands."

She paused at the change of subject, and released her sweating hands from behind her back. He
took them and placed them on the outside of his knees.

"If you need to stop, or if you don't like it, tap me."

She blinked down at her hands, not fully understanding. And then his hands were tilting her jaw up
with a gentle nudge, his cock was back on her lips, and his fingers were slipping into the hair
behind her ear, holding her still as his hips pushed forward.

She braced herself, closing her eyes, preparing for something pornographic and brutal.

Shallow thrusts. His fingertips tracing lines across her cheek. Soft pants from above her.

"Look up at me."

Her lids fluttered open, and her vision cleared. A pink blush dabbling across his marble skin,
spotting high on his cheekbones and flushing his neck.

"Can you take a little more?"

She blinked up at him. His thrusts were slow and gentle, so she squeezed his thighs in response.

"Good."

He tilted her head back to rest on the wall and stepped closer. She breathed deeply through her
nose, feeling her skin buzzing with anticipation as his fingers curled in her hair. He slid in deeper,
sliding across her tongue, inching toward the back of her throat, before easing back. She watched
him as he repeated this three more times before pausing and whispering, "Suck."

She did — her cheeks hollowing and her tongue curling under him. His lips parted as he watched
her, his hips fighting to stay still. She breathed deep, releasing him, and he continued to pump into
her, faster, but still not too deep.

"Can you take a little more?" he repeated, panting.

She froze, unsure. He still hadn't slid all the way into her mouth, and she knew she would choke on
him. His thumb rubbed her cheek, and he twitched on her tongue, growing larger, leaking into the
back of her mouth.

He was thrusting shallowly, staring down at her with dark eyes. She felt a stirring in her belly, the
same she'd feel when it was just her breath and her fingers in the darkness, her hips wanting
something more.

She squeezed his thighs again, and that smirk returned.

The pressure on her face increased, holding her still. He slid back on her tongue, further and
further. She swallowed on instinct, closing her eyes, trying not to hold her breath. He moaned —
the first blatant moan from him.

"Fuck," he cursed, and she listened to it bounce around the room with her eyes still pressed shut.

He slid against her tongue, slipping forward and back, crowding her mouth and pressing into the
back of her throat. Her eyes started to water, and she started to panic—

She hit the sides of his legs with her palm. And before she could tap again, he was pulling out.

Her eyes opened, expecting to find him disappointed in her, but as she blinked her tears away his
hands grabbed her ribs, hauling her to her feet. She gasped, and before she could ask any questions,
his lips were on hers, his hands dragging her face up to his as his tongue fucked her mouth like his
cock just had.

Holding onto his shoulders and trying to catch her breath, she tried to kiss him back, but he was
savage against her mouth, his cock pressed tight between their bodies.

"Thank you," he whispered into her. "Thank you."

She started to say something asinine, like you're welcome, but then he was at her trousers, ripping
open her buttons, his hand sliding into her knickers. Gasping at the quick change of events, she
swallowed the curse he pushed into her mouth.

"I knew it," he murmured as his fingers slipped through her. She wasn't sure when she'd become so
wet, but it made Malfoy grind into her hip, and begin to swirl the moisture around her clit.

An "Oh!" burst from her lips before she could keep her worthless exclamations to herself, and he
pressed his mouth to her neck as his fingers moved quick patterns on her clit and his cock jerked
against her waist.

Her nails pushed into his shoulders, and she bit her lip as he sucked on her neck. His fingers slipped
lower, circling her entrance and her hips started to writhe.

"Don't stop," she pleaded, her jaw dropping and her head falling back. She'd never had this kind of
pleasure rolling through her with another person. Her knees began to buckle, thighs shaking.

"You gonna be mine, Granger?" he heaved into her ear. "You gonna be good for me?"

Her legs tried to twist away from him, her face tense — she wanted to push away from the brink of
pleasure overwhelming her, feeling his hot breath on her neck and his finger slipping inside of her.
Her hands came to his chest, pulling him closer and pushing him away at the same time.

He grabbed both wrists, twisting them up and over her head, holding them high against the wall so
she stretched onto her toes while he added a second finger to her and his thumb rubbed frantically
on her clit.

"You're so good," he whispered against her lips. "Can you be good for me?"

Her shouted agreement rattled her ribs, her air coming quickly as she tumbled over into pleasure,
muttering, "yes, yes, yes" as she came.

Her muscles were tight, her arms still held above her head. She opened her eyes as he removed his
hand from her knickers. His face was pink and his eyes were like fire on her skin. He muttered a
quick spell and her blouse sliced down the middle, opening to reveal her modest bra. She couldn't
think fast enough to complain as she watched him wrap his drenched fingers around his cock and
start a quick rhythm in his fist.

Mouth dropped open from bliss, she watched him pump himself, feeling the grip on her wrists
tighten as his eyes dropped over her chest.

"So fucking beautiful," he growled, and with a sharp groan, his come hit her chest and stomach,
splashing hot and cooling in the bathroom air as he panted and dropped his forehead to her neck.

Hermione stared at the opposite wall, panting as her mind came back to her. She'd just gotten off
with Draco Malfoy in a bathroom at a bar. And his come was drying on her chest.

He lifted his head and loosed his hold on her wrists. His other hand reached up and as her arms
floated back down he rubbed her wrists, a gentle massage. Lifting her hands to his lips, he kissed
across the thin skin, his fingers then rubbing into her upper arms and shoulders. She stood there and
thought of Ginny, and how just thirty minutes ago she'd assumed that it was about hurting the sub
and then apologizing.

It wasn't that at all. Her head felt clouded, but she thought maybe she understood how the
roughness of it all could be massaged away. Like muscles you overworked, and then had to take
care of the next day.

Malfoy looked up at her face and said, "Are you on a contraceptive potion?"

Hermione blinked quickly and nodded. "I have one I take monthly, but I can—"

He cleaned his come off her chest with two fingers, swiping through the mess, and before she could
finish explaining he was pushing his hand back into her knickers and sliding his two fingers inside
of her, pushing his come into her.

Her eyes widened, and her jaw opened mid-sentence. His gaze was hot and teasing as he said, "I
don't want you to clean yourself up until you get home. I want you to walk through that bar and out
to the fireplaces with my come inside of you, warming in your cunt. I want you to remember that
every man who wants to fuck you out there can't have you, because my come is already inside of
you."

Her throat squeaked, attempting to respond. And while she'd said nothing in agreement, he moved
away to the sink as if she had. He wet a cloth with warm water and came back to clean her stomach
and chest. The splatter of his come across her pale pink bra fascinated him for a few moments until
he pulled his wand, cleaned the padding, and repaired the shirt.

She watched him clean himself and buttoned her trousers again, turning to the mirror to find a
witch who'd just blown Draco Malfoy and came all over his fingers. Her lips were red and her hair
was ragged. She ran her fingers through her curls as Malfoy came to stand behind her. Her hands
paused as she looked at the two of them together in the mirror, her eyes shell-shocked and glassy.

"Sleep on it tonight," he said. "You answered me while my fingers were on your clit, so you should
think on it with a clear head." He brushed his hair out of his eyes, and gave her a casual, "I'll owl
you in the morning," before slipping out of the bathroom.
Hermione stared at herself in the mirror for several moments. He'd cleaned her up, so with nothing
else to do, she washed her hands and exited, finding the bartender lifting a brow at her, holding her
handbag, claiming that her redheaded friend had paid her tab and asked him to hold her stuff.

She grabbed her coat and bag, flew through the fireplace, and walked straight through her living
and into her bedroom, thinking about what he'd said about his come the entire time.

When she finally showered, she gingerly cleaned herself and wondered if she regretted losing the
scent of him and the dangerous joy of knowing he'd claimed her with his come inside of her. She
wrapped herself in a towel and padded to her bedroom, an eagle owl was sitting on her windowsill.
With shaking fingers, she opened the window and the bird dropped two boxes before sweeping out.

Her eyes widened when she found two different sex toys; one with a note that read, Use this
whenever you please, and one with the note — Use this only when I tell you to.

Hermione sat on her bed, holding two phallic vibrators, thinking about how one of his first
questions was about toys. Staring down at the one that had conditional usage, she thought, how
dare he. She opened the packaging and got herself off two more times before falling asleep.
 Chapter 2
Chapter Notes

The Author claims no responsibility for any sensations or sexual fantasies The Reader may
have as a result of engaging with this chapter at their place of employment. Lost wages or
unemployment will not be the responsibility of The Author.

Thank you to Graendoll and monsterleadmehome for Beta'ing.

I will update the tags as we go. Please check the tags before each chapter if you have squicks.

And not to toot my own horn, but you should really have a husband/wife/boyfriend/fuck
boi/girlfriend/toy readily available before reading this chapter. It IS Valentine's Day after all.

Toot toot, motherfucker.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Hermione stared up at her bedroom ceiling, letting the previous night crash down on her.

She'd gone from having a simple evening of drinks with Ginny to sucking Draco Malfoy's cock in a
public toilet.

And she might have signed up to be his submissive.

She groaned, dragged the covers up over her face, and curled into herself until she could block out
the memory of his eyes. Especially the way they'd looked as she stared up at him from her knees,
his cock between her lips.

Can you take a little more?

Hermione shifted her legs, relieving a little bit of the pressure that swirled low in her belly. She
looked over at the purple toy that had gotten her off (twice) before she went to bed.

No. No, no.

Hermione sat up in bed, threw the covers off, and ran to splash cold water on her face. She was just
finishing brushing her teeth when there was a knock at her door.

She poked her head out of her bathroom, listening carefully, praying she heard wrong.

After thirty tense seconds, the knock came again.

She padded down the hallway and went to look through the peephole.

Draco Fucking Malfoy was standing there, eyes on the glass with a smirk as if he knew she was
looking back at him.
Her heart pounded. Maybe it was a joke. Maybe he was here to laugh at her for sucking him off in a
toilet with her hands behind her back. Maybe he was here to tell her he'd reconsidered, and she
wasn't truly that great at oral, so they should probably not continue this bloody stupid—

"Granger," he said. As if he knew she was just staring at him through the door. She felt his voice
reverberate through the wood.

Hermione steeled herself and unlocked the bolts. She cracked open the door and met his smug
expression.

"Morning."

She blinked at him. "What's… why?"

He lifted his brows at her, infinitely amused. "May I come in?"

She sighed and opened the door, ready for whatever fresh hell she was about to endure. He slid past
her, smiling as he took in her pajamas and bare feet. Hermione flushed crimson.

"I wasn't expecting company," she began, but stopped when Malfoy crossed into her kitchen and
placed two grocery bags on her counter.

"I couldn't be sure what you had already, so I just brought everything," he said, pulling out a carton
of eggs.

She blinked at him. "Everything for what?"

He turned over his shoulder and smiled at her. "Breakfast."

She watched as he unpacked fruit, bacon, and orange juice. He summoned a frying pan from where
it hung on the wall, and with a flick of his wand, set the stovetop to cooking. The eggs started
cracking themselves into a bowl, whisking and mixing.

Hermione took a moment to press her nails into her palm, testing to see if she'd actually woken up
this morning, or if she was currently in the midst of a very plausible nightmare where Draco
Malfoy dropped by to cook breakfast while she looked like a swamp witch.

It would not be the first time she'd had this nightmare.

"You gonna stand there all morning, Granger?"

She jumped, moving quickly to sit in one of the tall chairs at her kitchen island.

"So you're…" She watched him tear open the package of bacon and start laying the slices in the
pan. "Why are you here?" she finished rudely.

The corner of his mouth twitched. "I'm cooking you breakfast."

"Yes. I see."

"I told you I'd come by in the morning."

"You… said you'd owl me."

"Did I? Apologies. May I?" His hand hovered over a cabinet.

"I… yes."

He pulled down salt and pepper. He grabbed her jar of tea leaves and set her kettle to boiling. He
flipped the bacon with a flick of his fingers.

He wore dark grey trousers and dragon-hide shoes. His black button-up was rolled up to his elbows
as he worked, and Hermione could just barely see the white lines of the faded Dark Mark on his
forearm.

He looked… delicious.

She bit her thumbnail as he worked in silence.

"Do you often bite your nails when you're nervous?"

He looked up at her from where he was chopping the stems off the strawberries. She glared at him.

"Am I not allowed to? Is that an 'instruction' I need to follow?"

He shrugged a shoulder. "Just wondering. Perhaps I could schedule you for a manicure later today."

Glowering at him, she hissed, "If I'd like a manicure, I'll schedule one myself, thanks."

He grinned down at the fruit. "I'd have thought you were a morning person, Granger. Is that not the
case?"

She crossed her arms. "I am a morning person. When it's my morning."

"Ah," he said, popping a strawberry into his mouth and chewing slowly. He gazed at her. "You're
feeling out of control. So you're lashing out."

She gaped at him, struggling to come up with a response to such a ridiculous thing to say. He
smiled and turned to pull the kettle off the stove just as it started to whistle.

"I've brought something for you to look over," he said, and with a wave of his hand, a crisp piece of
parchment appeared on the counter below her elbows. The neat handwriting that she recognized
from his office memos sent a shiver of unpleasantness through her.

But then Hermione's eyes caught on the words and phrases written down in a list, most of them
unintelligible to her. Several words were with other words, and her brain struggled to make them
make sense together. Such as:

"Anal fisting?" She looked up at him, horrified.

He smiled down at the teacup he was filling for her. "I see we're jumping right to it."

"Um. No. No, no. I don't even know what… no."

"It's almost exactly what it sounds like."

"And, what?" she squeaked. "This is a list of things you'd like to do with me?"
He shook his head with a coy smile, bringing a teacup to her before returning to plate the bacon.

"This is a rather comprehensive list of BDSM acts and scenes. It's for you to review and
communicate with me what you like and what you absolutely do not like."

"Well, I can tell you right now that anal fisting is off the table. Hope you won't be too
disappointed." She took a sip from her teacup. (Damn him. He could make a cuppa.) She lifted a
brow at him, and said, "Unless, of course, you were the one being fisted in this scenario?"

He turned to look at her slowly, a brow arching. "Is that something you'd be interested in,
Granger?"

Damn. That's not how he was supposed to react. She doubled-down.

"You've been on the receiving end of some anal fisting, Malfoy?" She smiled at him from over her
teacup. The way he grinned back at her before pouring the eggs into the pan sent her brain
spinning. She couldn't form a coherent thought for several moments. But the most prevailing
thought was— "Have… has every one of your subs been female?"

He laughed. "Granger, don't tell me you think a little pegging makes a bloke gay. I thought you
were far more open-minded than that." He stirred the eggs while she blushed. "But since you asked,
yes, all of my subs have been female. I am only interested in women."

She pressed her lips together, trying to come up with some kind of response. She settled for: "I'm
sure half the population mourns the loss."

She turned back to the list. There were words she could not even pronounce. And as she started at
the top and worked her way down, she felt her cheeks flush and her chest tighten. She was done
with the first column already, and despite not knowing half of the terms, she had not found a single
item that she was interested in. She was in over her head.

"What are some of your favorites?" she asked, voice climbing high anxiously.

"My favorites?" He finished the eggs, seasoned them with salt and pepper, and brought two plates
over to her dining table. "That's not really the point. The list is for your desires."

Hermione pressed her lips together. She climbed down off her stool and joined him at the table with
the list just as he pulled a chair out for her.

"And… what if I…" She hesitated. It's possible this would end before it even began. She plopped
into the chair and tried again. "My list of interests might be very small."

He sat across from her and watched her closely. "Alright."

"Alright?"

He nodded. "I'd like for you to make notations. Which ones are 'no,' which ones are 'maybe.' And
then we can discuss the 'maybes.' How does that sound?"

She swallowed and nodded. She conjured a quill wordlessly, and started at the top.

"Later," he said. She looked up from where she'd bent over the parchment to find him smiling softly
at her. "Breakfast first. Take your time with it. Do your research. I know you love research." He
winked at her as his teacup came to his lips.

She picked up her fork and aimlessly began to pick at her eggs. She still felt this was doomed. Her
eyes cast over the list again, wondering if there was anything on that list she was truly interested in.
Anything that actually struck a chord with her. Why did she even want to do this?

"You're thinking too hard, Granger."

She blinked up at him. He popped a grape between his lips, watching her. Frowning, she ate a few
pieces of orange melon before speaking, trying to figure out how to phrase it.

"I'm just thinking… that I might not be any good at this. And—and if I'm not, you can tell me. We
don't have to—" She took a deep breath. "You don't have to be stuck with me if I'm not—"

"You were quite good with your mouth, Granger," he said conversationally. Hermione felt her neck
flush. "Wherever did you learn how to give such a devastating blow job?"

He set his fork down on the dish, and leaned back, casting his arm across the back of the
neighboring chair.

She took a bite of her eggs in avoidance. (Damn him. They were good.)

"Books mainly. At the beginning." She looked away from him as he started to smile, low and
catlike. "And some Muggle pornography, I guess."

"Hermione Granger learned how to deep throat from research," he said, as if it were a footnote in a
book that he'd only just remembered.

It felt like he was teasing her. She scowled and bit into her bacon. "I'm not some blushing virgin,
you know. I've been in relationships—"

"Yes, and now I'm asking for the names of the blokes who've had your lips on their cocks."

Hermione blinked. Oh. He was a sly one, wasn't he?

She inhaled the eggs before clearing her throat. "Alright. Well, I was with McLaggen on and off
last year," she said. His face gave no reaction to that. "I was with a Muggle boy for about a month
and we… well, yes we were intimate. And Ron and I were together for about a year after the war."

He sat forward abruptly, picking up their plates. "Yes, I remember. And did any of those boys know
how to please you?"

She watched him stand fluidly, moving to her sink and muttering the spell for dishwashing and
drying. She didn't miss how he'd called them "boys."

"We had a fine time," she settled on.

He turned, leaning back on the kitchen counter and crossing his arms. "That's not what I asked
you."

Hermione swallowed. "I came. Most of the time I came."

"How many times?"

She bit her lip, feeling her chest tighten and her cheeks flame. "Umm, I can't really… I mean,
usually I don't come more than once, so…"

He stared at her, open and appraisingly. "Usually, you don't fuck me."

Her stomach flipped. "I'm just trying to temper your expectations, Malfoy."

"Oh, you're going to have four orgasms this morning, Granger," he said casually, strolling out of the
kitchen. "Why don't you give me a tour of your flat?"

She stared after him, lips open with nothing intelligent to say in response. Her mind snapped to
attention as she watched Draco Malfoy head down the hallway to her bedroom.

"Um! Wait!" She scrambled out of her chair, and stumbled after him.

He poked his head into the bathroom. "You don't have a bath?"

Her messy counter, her towels on the floor, possibly her bra was still hanging on the back of the
door—

She hurried to shut the door, almost snapping it on his face. "I—I have a shower. It's common in
this area to have smaller bathrooms."

He stared down at her with an amused expression. "Is there space for two?"

She blinked up at him, lips moving over silent words.

"Possibly. I don't— I wouldn't—"

"Is this your bedroom?"

And then he was walking away, inching closer to the half-open door at the end of the hall.

"Stop! Wait! Stop! Can I…"

He stopped, turning around with an innocent expression. "Yes?"

"If I could just… Give me two minutes, or… Just… If you could wait here for one second."

She slipped past him, ignoring his smirk, and closed the door behind her, taking in the state of her
bedroom. She was never this messy, but of course today — the day Draco Malfoy wanted to fuck
her sideways — her room looked like it had survived a natural disaster.

She raced for her wand on her bedside table, flicked it towards her clothes and shoes, and ran
through the tornado of dirty laundry to her bed to strip her sheets. She was charming the clean
sheets to make the bed themselves when she heard from behind her, "That's awfully presumptuous
of you, Granger. I just wanted a tour."

Malfoy was leaning in the doorway, watching her fluff pillows and almost spray lavender on the
sheets. She flushed.

"I just… wasn't expecting visitors."

He hummed and invited himself into her room, looking at the pictures on the walls and examining
her overflowing bookshelves. He ran his fingers over the spines carefully, as if drifting across skin.
She had to look away from his hands.

By the time he moved closer to her bed, she was almost bouncing with anticipation. Which was
probably why she didn't think to hide what lay on her bedside table:

The two toys he'd sent the night before. The pink one, still in its box. The purple one laying
innocently on the table from where she'd dropped it after washing it off the night before.

His eyes hovered on them. Hermione wondered what was more mortifying: Draco Malfoy buying
her sex toys, or Draco Malfoy finding out that she used the sex toys he bought her.

"This one didn't come with packaging?" he said, looking at the purple one.

She shifted on her feet. "Um, no it did."

He turned a slow intent gaze on her. "Did you not see my instructions?"

His eyes were dark, centered on her. She felt like she'd gotten the wrong answer in class.

"Um…"

"So you disobeyed me?" he said. "On day one?"

She checked his expression. He was serious. Serious, but not angry, despite the sharp edge to his
voice.

"What happens now?" she asked, teasing. "Do you 'spank' me?"

He turned to face her fully and let his eyes dance over her body before coming back to her face.
"Do you want me to?"

Warmth blossomed in her chest, rising slowly up her neck to her cheeks. She'd seen that on the list.
Spanking had never been a part of her sexual practices. Cormac had slapped her backside a few
times in jest, but never in the bedroom. Never his bare hand across the skin of her arse.

Hermione snorted, pushing away the images floating through her mind. "Right," she said, lamely,
eyes looking down to her bare feet. She was still in her pajamas. She looked fucking ridiculous.

"Come here."

She blinked at his command. His voice was low and earthy, beckoning her forward. She swallowed
and obeyed.

Her legs took her closer to him, and she found she couldn't look him directly in the eyes when he
stared at her like that. Like he was about to chase her down in the woods.

When she stopped in front of him, his hand reached up to push away a curl that had fallen out of
her sleeping bun and then cupped her jaw. She was about to offer to change into something a little
more provocative — maybe run a spell over her hair — when he kissed her.
Softer than the night before, flipping her stomach and twitching her fingers. His tongue pressed into
her, opening her mouth and twisting with her own. His fingers curled into the hair behind her ear,
holding her in place. She kissed him back, letting her tongue slip forward and pressing up on her
toes to wrap her arms around his neck.

His lips slid across her jaw, dipping down to her neck and teasing her. She gasped as his hands
drifted down her throat, over her clavicles, and curved over her breasts before slipping down to the
elastic of her waistband. Her fingertips grazed the hair on the back of his neck, and she was
delighted to feel him shiver.

Quick as a flash, he pushed her pajama bottoms over the curve of her backside and then his hands
were on her arse, squeezing her close. He sucked her earlobe in between his lips, and released it
with a smack before whispering, "Did you come?"

Her mind was a little fuzzy, so she simply said, "Huh?"

"Last night." He grazed her neck with his teeth. "With the toy you weren't supposed to use."

"I… Yes. I did."

He hummed into her skin. "And I wasn't here to witness it?" He played with the edges of her
knickers, following the line of them across her cheeks. "Will you show me?"

"Will I… what?"

"Show me," he whispered into her ear. And it wasn't so much a clarification as it was a command.
"How you made yourself come. I want to watch you play with yourself."

Hermione shivered. "That's… Why?" Awkwardness winning out, she laughed. "You can't
possibly… I mean, I could suck you off again?"

He pulled his mouth from her ear and stared down at her. "It wasn't a suggestion."

Pressing her lips together to keep from biting back, Hermione moved to her bedside table on
shaking legs. She grabbed up the purple toy. It was penetrative with a vibrating attachment for clit
stimulation (and it did sort of look like a rabbit, the more she considered it). She had gotten off the
night before in record time. And it had been the only time in her life that she could remember
coming twice in less than twenty minutes. She'd made sounds that she wished she could forget,
they were so mortifying.

And now Draco Malfoy wanted her to do it again. With him watching.

Squeezing her eyes closed, she shucked off her pajama bottoms and climbed on her mattress, taking
the toy with her. She settled back on her pillows and ignored the other presence in the room, until
he said, "Warm yourself up, Granger."

He stood at the foot of her bed, looking quite relaxed — hands in his pockets, head tilted to the
side.

She glared at him. "Any other requests?"

His brows lifted in amusement, and then he said, "Take off your knickers. And your top."
She felt her cheeks heat. Logically, she knew he'd be seeing her naked at some point if they
continued this… thing. But that moment was now.

She peeled off her knickers, rolling them down her hips in what was probably the least-sexy thing
Draco Malfoy had witnessed in his life. She tossed them towards her laundry basket, and before she
could think too much about it, she gripped the hem of the t-shirt she'd worn to bed, and tugged it up
and off. She lay back on her pillows, knees pressed together, and stared at the ceiling.

"Happy?" she grumbled.

"I could be happier," his voice lilted from the foot of the bed. "Open your legs."

She sighed, and let her knees fall open.

"You keep huffing and puffing like that every time I give you an order, and I will have to spank
you."

Heat flooded her chest. She felt it spreading across her skin like wildfire. She bit the inside of her
cheek and tried not to imagine what that would be like at all.

She took a deep breath and slipped a hand between her legs. She swiped her fingers low, finding a
little bit of moisture that she brought up to her clit. When she started slow circles and soft touches,
Hermione quickly realized that there was no possible way she would be able to come like this. She
was tense. She was anxious. She was doing nothing for her own arousal.

"Have you ever touched yourself in front of someone else?" he asked, reading her mind. Possibly
reading her awkward and uninspired movements.

"No," she answered honestly. "Usually if I'm getting naked with someone it's for… more direct
reasons."

She tried switching up her rhythm. Still wasn't quite working.

"That's a shame. You look gorgeous with your fingers on your clit."

And her belly twisted, something deep coiling tighter. She inhaled silently, and focused intently on
the ceiling.

"Will you show me what they look like buried in your cunt?"

Swallowing, she slipped her fingers down and pressed one slowly inside of herself.

"Good girl."

Hermione shivered. And then a wave of guilt and shame crested over her. She wasn't a dog…

She tried a few more thrusts of her finger, but usually this part did nothing for her. She moved her
other hand down her belly to swirl her clit. She started getting frustrated again.

"Would it help if I joined you?"

She snapped her eyes down to him. His fingers were playing with the buckle of his belt, his gaze on
her.
"Do you… do you mean you would… wank? While I…?"

He nodded, his expression easy, like this was the most natural thing in the world.

She chuckled nervously. "I thought you promised me four orgasms. Aren't you afraid of losing
steam too quickly?"

"Why don't you let me worry about that," he said, unbuttoning his trousers. And before she could
try a different argument, he was pushing them down below his hips. "Rub your clit, Granger." His
hand moved to the outline of his cock in his tight black trunks.

She didn't think she could blush any harder, but here she was, red all over at the image of Draco
Malfoy cupping himself while her fingers slid back up to her clit. The nails on her other hand dug
into the skin on her upper thigh.

Yeah, this was working better.

"Do you ever touch your tits while you wank?"

Her eyes left his groin and met his gaze. His cheeks were a little pink as well.

"Um. No, not really. Would—would you like me to?"

He shook his head. "Just curious."

And then he pulled his cock free from his trunks. He was hard already. His hand glided over
himself softly, too light to be truly pleasurable.

When she realized her breathing was uneven, and her eyes hadn't left his cock, she turned back to
the ceiling, trying to relax.

"What do you think about when you wank, Granger?"

But it seemed he wouldn't let her.

She stammered for a bit before replying, "Not much? I don't really…" She swallowed. "What do
you think about?"

"Recently, this."

The coil twisted tighter.

She breathed a laugh. "Me, wanking?"

"Or you spread open for me. Or your tits bouncing. Or the sounds you make."

Her thighs tightened even though he was teasing her. Her fingers slipped through her wetness,
gliding quickly over herself.

The bed dipped, and she jerked to see him crawling towards her. He came to kneel in front of her
open thighs and gripped his cock again, fisting himself tightly. She couldn't look anywhere else.

"Can you open wider for me?"

She tilted her hips, opening her thighs wider, bringing her knee higher.

"Good girl. So good."

Her cunt throbbed. She moaned, and slapped her hand over her mouth.

"Don't cover your mouth."

Her hand dropped next to her head, fingers fisting in the pillow.

"Good."

She could feel her climax rising. Just out of reach. Her eyes were squeezed shut and her breath was
ragged as she rubbed her clit faster.

"That's it. A little more, love."

And then his hand dropped to her calf, pushing her open more, stretching her muscles until they
burned. She could feel his knees come to bracket her hips, scooting closer to her. The heavy sounds
of his hand on his cock.

"Touch me. Please," she heard herself say. Her face scrunched in embarrassment, turning to hide in
the pillow.

The hand on her leg squeezed. "You're doing just fine, yourself. Come on, love. Get nice and ready
for me."

"I am. I am."

"Almost there." His breath was heavy too, panting quickly in the silence of her bedroom.

She opened her eyes, hoping for just a quick glance at what Draco Malfoy looked like with his
hand on his cock, staring at her fingers working her clit. But his eyes were on her face. They were
black and hot.

Her walls fluttered. Her breath caught, and her thigh jumped under his hand.

So close.

So close.

Her fingers twisted in her pillow.

She gasped, her jaw dropping open.

"Fuck. Granger—fuck."

Her back arched and her walls clenched around nothing, just as his cock spurted over her fingers
and cunt, his come splashing on her hip and thigh. A moan wrenched from her throat, the coil
inside of her releasing.

When her eyes refocused, she found him looking down at the mess he'd made, looking almost as
shocked as she felt. She caught her breath, and removed her hand from between her legs.
The sticky fluid cooled on her fingers, just a few drops. She felt him staring at her, and a delicious
feeling spun through her — almost as good as the orgasm that had just crested through her. She'd
made him come.

Hermione met his eyes, listening to the way his breath shuddered. She lifted her wet fingers to her
mouth, and licked them clean for him, sucking the digits between her lips.

He watched her, his heavy breathing suddenly absent. His eyes grew even darker, if possible. When
her fingers were clean, she let them pop out of her mouth in (what she hoped was) an attractive
way.

Malfoy moved quickly, turning to the side and grabbing the purple toy. Her eyes widened as he
grabbed her thighs and dragged her down the bed a few inches. Her cunt was still throbbing as he
brought the dildo to rest against her entrance.

"I… I might not… I mean, I just came, so—"

"We'll take it slow."

And the toy slotted inside of her, pushing forward gently. She was slick, her muscles relaxed. Her
head dropped back on the pillow, and she lay there as Malfoy's hand ran up and down her thigh
soothingly. He pressed the button, and the external bit for clit stimulation buzzed. Her legs jumped,
her hips twisted to press back into the bed, away from the vibrations.

He pressed a hand down on her stomach. "Do you want to know why you can use the other toy and
not this one?" he asked.

A groan burst from her throat, and she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to relax against the feeling of
fullness, the stimulation on her clit. She thought of the other toy — the pink one, unopened. It was
a simple vibrator.

"Why?"

He dragged the dildo out of her before slowly pushing in again.

"Because nothing is allowed inside of your cunt unless I'm here to watch it sink inside of you,
Granger."

He pressed the vibration against her clit.

Her hands jumped to her face. She hissed, pressing her palms into her eyes.

"Is that clear?" he said.

She nodded, head moving quickly under her hands, starting to gasp for air.

"Is that clear?" he repeated.

"Yes!"

The dildo slipped out of her again, almost fully, before he pressed it back inside of her again.

"Take your hands off your face."

She heard him. She just couldn't do it. Her arms were tight and her face was contorted into
something hideous—

"Don't make me repeat myself." He pressed a button and the vibrator buzzed higher.

She yelped, slapping her hands down to the bed. Her hips tightened, a pressure at the base of her
spine twisting.

The hand on her stomach slipped higher, teasing her slowly as it crept between her breasts.

"Can I touch your tits, Granger?"

"Yes," she answered immediately, and grimaced. She was staring at the ceiling, but she
just knew Draco Malfoy was smirking at her.

His hand slid to her breast, cupping her, squeezing the mound. The toy slid forward again just as he
flicked her nipple with his thumb, and she cried out.

There was a very embarrassing squelching noise filling the room along with her heavy breathing,
and she tried to tune it out as he fucked her with the dildo and rubbed tight circles over her breast.

He pulled her nipple between two fingers and pinched her hard. She squeaked, but then he was
rubbing, soothing the skin. "Too hard?"

She wasn't sure. It wasn't… pleasant. But…

"If you can't take anymore, say 'Red.' If we need to slow down, say 'Yellow,' alright?"

She wasn't quite sure what that meant, but she said, "Alright."

And then he pinched her again. Her chest jumped. He ducked his head and pulled her abused nipple
between his lips, running his tongue along her flesh. She gasped, her knees curling up near her
waist.

He slid the toy inside of her, set the vibration on low, and pressed the rabbit ears to her clit. She
hissed, but then he was moving to cover her, his stomach pressing the toy tightly to her while his
clothed chest pressed down on her stomach. Each hand covered one of her breasts. His lips kissed
and sucked at her sternum as his fingers played with her.

Her hands jumped to his shoulders, fisting his shirt. The weight of his stomach against the vibrator,
pressing into her clit—

She gasped, groaning and shifting her hips.

He tweaked her nipples together, sucking a bruise into the side of her left breast.

There was so much happening, and yet not enough. She wanted the toy turned off. She wanted the
toy turned up. She wanted his mouth on her breast again. She wanted his mouth on hers.

Her hands slid into his hair and started to drag his lips to her breast.

"Hands on mattress, Granger."

She whimpered. "Please. Please, Malfoy—"

"On the mattress or I'll tie them there."

Her palms slapped down, fingers twisting in her comforter. Her hips were shifting, pressing up
against him, pushing the toy deeper and deeper, slipping the vibrator against her clit.

He pinched her nipple hard, his fingers holding like a clamp. She cried out, shifting away from
him.

"Is that too hard? Can you take that?"

She moaned in response. His mouth dropped over that breast, sucking softly, tongue laving the
flesh. His other hand pinched her other nipple.

"Oh, my god." Her knees bent up to her chest, squeezing his shoulders.

His mouth switched to her other breast, soothing.

Her hips were jerking under him, fucking herself on the toy while her fingers tore at the sheets and
her back arched under his fingers.

He kept switching breasts, squeezing one too hard, letting his mouth sooth it while his other hand
started to pinch her other nipple.

She was whimpering, making nonsense sounds. She felt so far from orgasm, but so close. Like it
was something she was chasing.

"Malfoy, please. Please. Please."

"Please, 'what?'" he mumbled with her nipple in her mouth.

"I need— I need—"

"Tell me, Granger. If you ask for it, I'll give it to you."

Her eyes rolled back in her head as he pinched her other nipple. It was there. It was right there—

"Please…"

"You're being so good, do you know that?"

Her walls fluttered. It wasn't enough. It wasn't enough.

"Let me… Let me come. I need it—"

"Say 'please,' like a good girl."

His teeth scraped over her nipple. And she started gasping, choking.

"Please! I need to come! Please let me—"

"You'll never touch this toy again?"

"Never! I'll be good. I'll be so good—"

One of his hands darted between them. His lips wrapped around her breast, sucking hard. He
pressed a button, and the vibrations on her clit skyrocketed.

She screamed, her hands slapping to his shoulders, tugging at his shirt. Her chest arched into his
mouth, and her cunt clamped down on the toy. Her voice was strangled and unintelligible as she
bucked under him, her thighs shaking and her stomach muscles jumping as everything inside of her
clenched.

She drifted down, her spine lowering back to the bed and her legs tremoring with the aftershocks.
The buzzing on her clit was insistent, and there was nowhere to escape it, nowhere to go—

"Off," she rasped. "Please turn it off."

He did. His hand stretched over her hip, rubbing away the tension. His mouth was sucking at the
underside of her breast, his nose nuzzling the skin. He sat up, and she felt the absence of his weight
like a slap in the face.

He dragged the toy out of her slowly. She didn't want to think about the mess on the sheets below
her.

He tugged the pillow out from under her head, laid it next to her on the mattress, and then wrapped
an arm under her boneless body and sat her up.

"How are you?" he asked.

Her eyes drifted open, and she couldn't help the dizzy smile that crossed her face.

"I need you to take a little more."

She blinked, not sure what he meant. And that's when she noticed he was hard again, pressing
against her hip.

"Can you take a little more?" He ran his thumb over her mouth, his eyes watching the way her lips
parted.

Could she take a little more? Could they take a little breather maybe? For an hour or twenty?

But she nodded and said, "Yes."

He held her jaw softly as he leaned forward and kissed her. His lips moved slowly over hers, the
hand around her waist squeezing her close.

When he pulled away, his hand reached up and tugged the band out of her messy bun, letting her
hair fall in a mass over her face and shoulder. He pushed her curls back and said, "Lie on your
stomach, hips on the pillow."

He guided her to where he wanted her. She was diagonal across her bed, her arse lifted by the
pillow. He arranged her legs to straighten out and relax. She rested her chin on her arms, like she
was getting a massage.
She'd heard things about positions like this. Cormac had often asked her to turn over like this, on
her hands and knees.

"Don't want to look at my face while you fuck me, Malfoy?" she teased, her orgasms having
loosened her tongue.

"On the contrary, Granger." She heard the sounds of his trousers dropping, his shirt falling to the
floor somewhere. The bed dipped behind her as he climbed over her. "I want to stare at your arse
while I fuck you."

She laughed. He didn't.

He straddled her hips, letting his hands coast over her back, sliding down to fill his palms with her
backside. He tugged at her hips to angle them to him. She felt his cock, heavy and hot against her.

She felt him nudging at her entrance — the slick slide of him pushing in, spreading her open. She'd
forgotten what she'd learned last night: he was larger than she'd ever had before.

She bit down on her hand, her thighs tightening and her stomach quivering as a whine left her
throat.

"Shh. You take me so good."

He kept pushing in. Her legs were trapped between his, and her body could do nothing but take
him.

His hands massaged her backside, rubbing his fingers up into her lower back until finally his hips
met hers, his cock fully buried in her.

Her face was turned into the bed, her eyes squeezing closed and her teeth biting into her lip.

"So good."

His hand threaded through her hair, pushing it to the side as he leaned down to lay a kiss between
her shoulder blades.

And then his hips were withdrawing, dragging his cock along her walls, and pushing back in. Her
jaw dropped open, a sigh muffled into the comforter.

He rolled his hips, fucking her with a rhythm that was almost too fast, but also not enough. His
cock thrust in quickly, dragging out slowly.

She thought maybe this was designed to make her go mad. She certainly didn't need to come again.
It was his turn. But the coil was winding slowly inside of her again. And his rhythm was doing
nothing but twisting it tighter.

His hands dropped to her arse, squeezing tight but also anchoring himself as he started to go faster.
She moaned and listened to his breathing run ragged.

"You're so tight, Granger." And she felt herself get tighter. He growled. "Gonna fuck you like you
deserve. You've been so good."
Her shoulders rolled. Her arms stretched out, threading her fingers in the sheets. His hand snapped
to her elbows, dragging them back in toward her body, and leaning forward to pin them to the bed.

The angle changed. She saw white.

"Oh, my god. Oh, my god. Are you— what's—"

She stammered, feeling her walls tighten and release and tighten. Her arms struggled under his
hands, jerking to get closer and further away from the pleasure.

"Good girl. Almost there."

"What are you do— why—?"

His hips started slamming into hers, bouncing off her arse and then pushing back again. And every
time he thrust inside, he pressed against something—

"No. No don't—"

She dug her face into the mattress.

"Red or yellow, Granger."

She didn't want him to stop. She didn't want to slow down. She was barrelling towards something
like a train off its tracks.

He tugged at a fistful of her hair, turning her head to the side.

"Red?"

"No."

The hand in her hair tugged, and her chest arched off the bed, his lips attached to her neck, sucking
and biting.

Her body was bent like a bow, a string ready to snap. Her legs bent at the knees, her feet curling
toward him.

"Oh fuck—"

She wanted more. And less.

He sped up. Hips slapping against her, breath panting in her ear, fingers tugging at her scalp. He
was moaning words into her shoulder. She could make them out every so often when her vision
wasn't going white.

"—feel you come on my cock—such a good girl—deserve this—don't deserve you—"

Her mind went blank. She felt him thrusting still, heard herself scream, felt her walls clenching and
the rush of liquid heat in her belly. But there was nothing in her brain but numbing pleasure.

When the world returned to her, she found herself staring at her ceiling. Malfoy was on top of her,
lips on her neck, cock thrusting deep inside of her, holding her bent leg to his chest. She had a faint
memory of him flipping her over, kissing her mouth as she babbled nonsense, and continuing to
fuck her.

Her body was limp. She threw her arms around his neck to anchor herself to reality. She caught her
breath and listened to him groan into her skin.

He reached down and covered her breast with his hand, letting his fingers slide over her. She jerked
when he thumbed her nipple, a spike of tension coursing through her veins. He did it again, and she
tilted her head back. His teeth ran over her throat.

His hand drifted lower, holding her hip as he thrust forward, and then his fingers were at her clit.

"Oh!" She almost smacked her head into his jaw. "What— You don't—"

"Red?"

His eyes were bottomless as he panted over her face.

He brushed her clit again, and her cunt contracted. His eyes squeezed closed and she cried out.

"No more. Please, Malfoy. I can't—"

"Red?"

"You don't have to. I feel so good, please don't—"

"Red?"

He swirled her clit, and her head dropped to the mattress.

"This is unnecessary," she groaned.

He laughed against her cheek. "One more, Granger. I owe you one more."

He hitched her knee up higher, and continued thrusting, his cock so deep inside of her, she felt
herself growing wetter and wetter on every thrust.

"I can't come again. I c-can't."

"You were made for this, Granger." His voice was low in her ear as he bit on her earlobe. "Made to
be fucked."

He pressed on her clit. And it was so quick, she hardly took a breath to cry out.

She gripped him like a vice, her knees pressing close to his chest, her neck arching as her mouth
formed a silent scream. He moaned a handful of curses until he stilled, pulsing inside of her.

She sucked in air like she'd been underwater for years. His teeth dug into her neck, and her hands
were in his hair. There were black spots in her eyes as she lay there, fluttering around him. His
come and hers were leaking out of her. He had one hand on her hip, and the other in her curls.

He was kissing her neck, soft drops of his lips against her skin. He worked his way up her jaw and
pressed a final kiss to her lips. She let her eyes flutter closed.
 He rolled over, summoned his wand, and started muttering healing spells against the bruises and
bite marks on her skin.

By the time he got to her breasts, Hermione had drifted off to sleep.

When she woke up hours later, she was on clean sheets, a warm blanket tucked around her. And a
note that read:

See you at work on Monday.

Chapter End Notes

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 Chapter 3
Chapter Notes

Yearly updates are a thing, right?

Thank you to Graendoll and monsterleadmehome for betaing!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Hermione's hands were shaking as she stood in the lift on Monday morning. She held a tea in one
hand (for the shaking) and her files in the other. She hadn't heard from Malfoy on Sunday, but still
his note was fresh in her mind.

See you at work on Monday.

Like a threat. Like a promise. Like a fly buzzing around her head while she tried to eat.

Just the idea of it had her selecting her only matching underwear set that morning. She huffed and
tapped her foot, anxious to lock herself up in her office and create excuses for why she couldn't
have any visitors today.

The lift doors opened, and she almost ran.

Her office was across the floor, down a corridor, left around a statue, and down another corridor.
She felt like wolves were chasing her the entire way.

What if it had been a huge joke? What if he'd told everyone how she'd 'submitted' to him and now
they were laughing at her? What if he wanted to get together here — at her place of work!

Hermione slammed her office door closed behind her, looking behind her hatstand and under her
armchair for places Draco Malfoy could be lying in wait. Once she'd secured her space, she buried
herself in paperwork, hoping she could be left undisturbed for the whole day.

Half an hour later, a memo flew under the door, inviting her department to a meeting with several
members of the Wizengamot to debrief before the trial scheduled that Friday. Her head dropped
into her hands. She knew exactly who would be at that meeting.

Her legs wobbled underneath her as she walked the long distance back to the lifts, taking them
down to level 10. There were a dozen people from the Auror office already seated when she entered
the small conference room, but as she squeezed herself into a chair in the corner, she found no
blond heads.

Perhaps he was ill? Had she made him ill? Had he made her ill? Perhaps the effort to drag four
orgasms from her body had drained his life force, or maybe his dick had fallen off and he was in St.
Mungo's telling everyone who would listen about Hermione Granger's treacherous vagina—

"Good morning, everyone."

The voice sent a shiver down her spine and a slick wave of heat through her abdomen. Her eyes
snapped up to see Draco Malfoy entering the room with a stack of reports tucked under one arm.
His hair was crisp, his clothes pristine, and his eyes didn't search for hers once as he took his seat at
the head of the table, passing out paperwork.

Her cheeks were on fire as he took over the meeting, concisely detailing the upcoming trial and the
prospective arguments. The ends of his sentences had a tendency to dip low, washing a fresh wave
of heat over her at the memory of—

Can you open wider for me?

Say "please," like a good girl.

Hermione shook her head clear and turned her attention to her notes. She had… absolutely no clue
what they were discussing.

"Good," Malfoy said, and she tried not to shiver. He flipped his folder closed. "Thank you for
giving me ten minutes. I'll work directly with the Auror Department on the rest."

He stood from the table, and the rest of them did the same. She was still gathering up the
paperwork she hadn't even opened when a voice from the doorway called, "Officer Granger."

She looked up to find his eyes on her for the first time that day. Something inside of her throbbed.

"A word in your office?"

Her heart fluttered. Oh god. Oh fuck.

She jerked a nod and stood on shaking legs to follow him. Williams, one of the Aurors on the case,
stood next to Malfoy, talking some specifics that Hermione had failed to grasp, and when all three
of them started walking through the cubicles, she thanked Merlin that Williams was still with them.

Perhaps he'd join them in her office as well. That would be such a relief—

"Will do, Counselor Malfoy," Williams said with a grin, and then he was gone.

Her heart sank into her bubbling stomach. Without a glance at Malfoy, she opened her office door
and moved to her desk.

God, he was going to have her suck him off while her Order of Merlin, First Class watched.

"How are you?"

She spun, finding him standing in front of the closed door with his hands slid into his pockets.

"Well, thank you." She shuffled papers on her desk, ruining the perfect piles she had them in. "And
you?"

"Just fine. Have you eaten?"

She blinked down at her hands. "Have I… Yes."

"What did you eat?"

Clenching her jaw, she turned around to him. "Listen, Malfoy—"

"Counselor Malfoy. While we're at work, Officer Granger."

"Listen, Counselor," she bit out. "I am a professional. I take this job very seriously. And I can't
have this relationship cause any disruptions to my work. I will not be submitting to you in any way
—"

"Do you consider telling me what you had for breakfast a submissive act?"

She inhaled through her nose and glared at him.

"I wasn't going to instigate anything this morning," he said. "This is your office. You're allowed to
feel in control here."

"Thank you for the permission, Counselor."

He tilted his head and something flashed in his eyes. "Sometimes I think you deliberately
misunderstand me."

She snorted and moved around her desk to reclaim her chair. He stayed near the door.

"What is it about the case that you'd like to discuss?" she said primly.

Rocking back on his heels, he looked away. "Yes, that was a fib. I wanted to visit you. And ask you
to come to mine tonight."

Her stomach swooped.

"You don't have to stay the night," he clarified, "but I'd like to see you this evening."

"Yes, alright," she said far too quickly. "What time?"

"Seven. I'll send my address in a memo." He reached for the door. "And bring the list I gave you on
Saturday. With your notations."

Before she could blush, he was out the door.

~*~

She had grand plans of running back to her flat to shower and do something stupid with her hair or
her nails or her elbows, but all of that was foiled by the memo that slid under her door at 4 p.m. It
was 6:45 by the time she was finished putting out the fire Magical Transportation had started
(literally).

After weighing the Pros and Cons of being ten minutes late to Malfoy's Fuckening, Hermione
decided to clean up as best she could with spells at the office, maybe a few glamor spells for unruly
curls.

The address that had slithered under her door that afternoon was for a flat in the fancy part of
London near Knightsbridge. Hermione had blinked twice at the address and tucked it into her purse
quickly, lest a coworker see it. Like it was the codes to nuclear missiles.
At seven sharp, with a sheen to her lips and a freshening spell to her underarms, Hermione took the
Ministry Floo to his address, and stepped through the green flames to a posh living room — neutral
greys, minimalist art, and soft, buttery leather furniture. She had ten seconds to wait for an elf or a
girl in a leather bodysuit and twelve-inch heels to greet her before she heard footsteps — male
footsteps.

Malfoy turned the corner, wearing slim-fitting trousers and a loosely buttoned shirt. A catlike grin
spread across his lips at the sight of her.

"Granger." He stepped into her pressing his mouth to the corner of hers in a greeting. "Have you
eaten?"

A hot irritation rose in her. "Yes, thank you."

She hadn't.

"Excellent. Do you have your notations?"

Nodding too vigorously, she plucked the list from her bag. It had taken her all of her lunch break to
determine which acts and scenes she was comfortable with, before simply sticking to the basics.
Her throat tightened as he opened the creased page, and she wondered if he would send her home
for only checking off a few things under Bondage. Certainly this couldn't be what he was looking
for in a sub. He'd indicated as much last week — I don't take on inexperienced subs.

But all he gave it was a passing glance. All the stress, all the crossing and uncrossing as her armpits
sweat something fierce, for a brief look.

"Our safety measures stand from last time. Yellow and Red. Do you have any other questions?"

She blinked at him. "Er… what are we going to do?"

"Can't it be a surprise?" His brows lifted and his mouth quirked. She buttoned her lips shut.

He stepped back from her, gesturing for her to follow down the small corridor. She trailed behind
him into a dining room, stark and clean. The table was set for one, at the head.

Malfoy took the chair, and before Hermione could narrow her eyes and remind him that she'd
"already eaten," he cocked his head at her and said, "Take off your robes."

Her muscles froze. Just like that, eh?

He stared at her like he anticipated an argument. She took a deep breath, and reached up for the zip
at the side of her dress robes. Slipping them down her torso and off her hips while he watched was
a feat of its own.

Once she was in nothing but her shoes and matching purple knickers and bra, she turned her
blazing face back on him and lifted a brow.

"Get on your knees." He opened his legs wide and gestured for her there.

She thought about bolting. Storming out. But she remembered that she'd used her mouth on him
before to fantastic results. She moved toward the table and his chair that was turned out to her and
lowered to her knees.
Malfoy waved a hand, and a steak dinner appeared on his place setting, the butter and spices
wafting down to her.

She stared at him as he picked up his knife and fork, beginning to cut.

"Go on, Granger."

Her fingers curled into her thighs as she stewed. "You want me to suck you off while you have
dinner?"

He brought his fork to his lips with all the class of the aristocracy and said simply, "Yes." He
chewed. "You said you've already had dinner. Besides, I'm looking forward to dessert."

Winking at her, he pressed another bite into his mouth. Her lips pressed together in a thin line.
Damn, that steak smelled good.

"May I use my hands this time?" She lifted a brow at him, trying to keep whatever slim control she
had left.

He lifted one back. "You may."

She took a deep breath and reached up for his belt. Dragon leather. It slipped like oil through the
buckle, and just as she got the last of the buttons open, she heard his fork click against the plate.

He was eating. Like this was normal. Hermione frowned. Perhaps this was normal for him.

She eased him out of his trousers, his cock just beginning to thicken, growing warm under her
fingers. She looked up and found him chewing slowly, his eyes on her face. Mustering her courage,
she brought her mouth to him.

She kissed the tip softly, letting her lips loosen and move gently. It had only been three days ago
that she'd had his cock in her mouth, but she was trying to remember what he liked, what he'd told
her to do. But this time he was letting her take the lead.

Her tongue flicked out, slipping against the head of him and swirling down. She made her way up
and down his shaft, kissing and licking, closing her lips around him and letting her hand stroke the
inches that wouldn't fit inside her mouth. She glanced up, and found him pulling his fork from his
lips slowly, savoring. His attention had returned to his dinner plate.

Hermione frowned. She must be doing it wrong. She scooted closer, splaying her hands over his
thighs and pulling him between her lips, focusing on following the vein on the underside of his
cock with her tongue. He reached the back of her tongue, and she took deep breaths before
beginning to suck on him.

The fork scratched the plate. She looked up at him through a blurry gaze and found his eyelids
fluttering. His hand shot out into her hair, and she almost moaned with the attention—

"Wait."

Her lips pulled off of him with a pop, and she took deep gulping breaths.

He looked down at her with dark eyes. "I'm not finished with dinner."
She tilted her head at him. "Well then you better eat quickly." She reached for his cock again—

"I want it slow tonight, Granger. Luxurious." His tongue peeked out through his smirk. "I want you
to know every detail of my cock by the time I'm done eating."

She glowered up at him, already feeling a strain in her knees. He picked up his fork again and
stared at her in challenge. She licked her lips and watched his eyes track the movement.

Lowering her mouth to him again, she watched his face as her lips brushed along the tip. He took a
slow breath, and Hermione pressed soft kisses to his cock, tracing down his shaft, mouthing at the
head, following the heavy vein lower and lower until she was at the base of him, kissing each of his
balls and letting her tongue slip out to taste.

His knuckles were white around his knife and fork, but that was the only indication she had that he
was affected. She heard the soft drag of the knife across the plate.

Her fingers drifted over the length of him, running down the vein and back up as she slid her
tongue over his balls. She lifted her mouth away, and her fingers wrapped around him. His cock
was swollen and red in her grip, the tip beading with come. Pressing her lips there, she pulled just
the head into her mouth, swirling her tongue around him, collecting his precome and humming
softly.

His hand shot out, grabbing the back of her head. Her eyes snapped up to him as his fingers curled
in her hair. He was watching her with dark eyes, a flush to his cheeks.

She wondered if she could make him come with just this.

A gentle pressure at the back of her head, and she opened her jaw wide, letting him slide her mouth
over him, taking him deeper and deeper.

She moved to pull back and repeat the process, but his hand held her still. Forcing her eyes up to
him, she lifted her brows as if to ask, "Yes?"

His gaze was hot on her when he said, "Never lie to me about eating again."

Her skin heated, both in embarrassment for being chastised, and due to something with that tone of
voice.

He stared her down until she showed some semblance of understanding, and then rubbed his
fingers at the back of her neck. "More."

Breathing deeply through her nose and ignoring her pounding heart, she widened her jaw and
focused on relaxing her throat. He slid further over her tongue, her lips a tight O around his shaft.

"Good girl," his raspy voice said. "Just a little more." A sharp breath. "Gonna shoot down the back
of your throat, Granger."

Her knickers were slick as she took more of him, his fingers rubbing softly at her scalp in thanks.
Her nails curled in the fabric of his trousers, and she panted through her nose. She wasn't sure how
much longer she could do this, but she knew she wanted to try.

She released a soft hum before trying something new, and his thighs tensed under her fingertips.
Looking up at him with her mouth stuffed full, she saw his eyes fluttering closed. She hummed
again, and tried to move her tongue underneath him. He groaned, and his hand tightened in her hair.

Pulling off of him slowly, she kept her eyes on his face, watching as his eyelashes fluttered against
his cheeks. She pressed her tongue to the vein underneath, kissed the leaking tip of him, and then
slowly slid her mouth back down his shaft — all the way until he was at the back of her throat—

A deep rumble from his chest, his hand grabbing more of her hair, and then she felt his come splash
down her throat, spurting as she swallowed and swallowed.

She dragged her mouth off of him, sure to use her tongue. She watched as his eyes opened and
centered on her. He looked thoroughly debauched, like he couldn't believe she was there in front of
him. She couldn't quite believe she'd succeeded either.

Kissing the tip one last time, Hermione rose off her aching knees, reached for his untouched glass
of burgundy wine, and drank it down. There was something burning in her at the look on his face.
Pride maybe. She'd done that.

Just as she was about to reach for the last bite of steak on his plate, his arm shot out, swiping the
wine and the dishes off the table. He stood swiftly, grabbed her waist, and placed her in front of
him. His mouth was on her before she could gasp, biting and sucking. Breathless, she clung to his
shoulders as his tongue swept through her. His hands ran over her chest and stomach, tracing
pathways down her thighs.

Then he was pulling back, dropping kissing to her breasts, and continuing downward.

Hermione froze, her muscles no longer loose and languid. "What are you doing?"

He looked at her with sinful eyes. "I told you. Dessert."

Her eyes widened. All sense of arousal left her, replaced by panic. Instead of Draco's face she saw
Ron, telling her he wasn't comfortable doing that. Cormac, spending two minutes down there
before saying he didn't like the taste.

And she hadn't showered since this morning.

His mouth was at her bellybutton, and he whispered, "Did you like that, Granger? Did sucking me
off with that perfect mouth get you hot? Are you already wet for me?"

She said the first thing that came to her mind. "Er, it was okay." Her voice shook.

He paused. His gaze flipped up to her. His hands stilled on the inside of her thighs, just inches from
where he would have found his own answer.

It had been the wrong thing to say.

"Oh?" he said softly. His hands lifted from her thighs.

She should have said, Don't go down on me, but please do anything else to me.

Her face flamed, thinking of the parchment with her notations she'd given him. Oral Sex had been
left on it. She had assumed he meant on him. It had been so long since a bloke had even considered
heading south, that she completely missed the meaning on the list.
She felt like she was failing an exam she had done all the necessary preparation for.

"You don't need me to return the favor?" he said, voice low and sly.

She certainly did not. She considered asking him for something else — his fingers — but she'd
have to admit she wasn't thorough in marking the list she'd had for three days.

She shook her head.

"Alright." He stepped back from her, giving her that superior look from Hogwarts. "I suppose we're
done here. I've had my fill for the evening."

Her head jerked in a nod, and she rushed to gather her robes, face flaming. He watched her get
dressed, but waited until the last possible second to say, "You're not allowed to get off without me,
Granger. When you're ready, come to me."

Clenching her jaw and cursing the moisture in her knickers, she nodded again, and paced quickly
toward the fireplace.

~*~

Pride was a funny thing. It had a habit of double-crossing you.

Tuesday was excruciating. She hadn't touched herself or used the toys after leaving Malfoy's. She'd
been "good." But when Malfoy found reasons to join her in the lifts or stand behind her in the lunch
line or lean into her personal space during the staff meeting, she had to admit that she was getting
desperate.

Wednesday, he left her alone entirely. She stared longingly at the drawer with her toys that night,
before taking a Dreamless Sleep potion.

Thursday, she was sure he would be the first to crack. But he simply smiled at her in the corridor
and continued his conversation with Williams.

She awoke Friday morning to the most magnificent dream about riding him like a horse, saddled
and stirrupped and bouncing on his cock. Her core was pulsing when her alarm went off, her
breasts tight and sensitive. She didn't think twice. Opening the drawer, she grabbed the purple toy
— the forbidden one — and let it finish what the dream started. She screamed so loud the
neighbors pounded on the wall.

But standing in the lifts that morning made her feel like there was a target painted on her back.

I Masturbated This Morning. (And I Wasn't Supposed To.)

She waited all day for Malfoy to waltz into her office with a smug look on his face, but he didn't.

By 4 p.m., she was actually afraid that he had forgotten about her. They'd started this thing nearly a
week ago, and if he only took on subs for a month at a time, there were only three more weeks left
for her "term."

There was a report she could easily send his way by memo, but she decided to walk it to his office
instead. He was behind his overly large desk in his overly large chair, flipping through case files at
quarter past four in his overly large office.
His eyes slid to her when she entered, but there was no indication that their relationship was
beyond professional.

"The Thompson report." She waved it at him and walked it to his desk.

"Thank you, Officer Granger."

He turned his attention back to his case file.

She cleared her throat, swallowing her pride. "Is there anything else you need from me? Before I
head home?"

He hummed. "Is there anything you need from me?" He closed the file and stood from his chair.

Her skin begged her to just ask for it. To ask when he was free to see her again, if he would see her
again.

"Nope," she replied.

He slipped his hands into his pockets. "You look lighter, Granger. More at peace. More in control
than you have this entire week." He tilted his head at her. "You got off, didn't you?"

She stared at him, her heartbeat racing. "You told me not to."

His lips twitched. "What an excellent evasion of the truth. Yes, I did."

"I…" She huffed and ran a hand through her hair. "You can't just tell me not to—
to masturbate altogether, Malfoy—"

"Counselor—"

"—Counselor Malfoy," she grit out. "I'm—I'm an adult woman with—with needs—"

"Needs that I will be seeing to." He stared at her calmly. "I asked you at dinner on Monday if you
had any needs to be met, and you led me to believe you did not."

He stepped forward and something under her skin sang in anticipation.

"Well, I had needs this morning."

"Did you?"

One step closer.

"Yes. I did."

Closer still.

"And how did you meet those needs?"

"I—I used one of the toys."

"Which?" His eyes were black and cataloguing every movement.

"I don't remember—"

"You do."

"Fine! I used the purple one! Happy?"

"No, not at all." He lifted a brow. "That means you disobeyed me twice. You're not to use that one
without me present. Or did you forget."

"I didn't forget." She jutted her chin up at him.

"So you knew you were being bad then, Granger?"

Something shivered in her at that word. Bad.

"I suppose I did."

He stared down at her, his gaze resting on her mouth before trailing down to her chest. He was so
close, she was sure he could see down the front of her dress. She felt her breasts pull taut at his
attention.

"Go to my desk," he whispered.

Hermione's breath caught. She knew the door was right behind her. And she knew he wouldn't stop
her if she simply turned on her heel and left. But her blood was pounding and her core was
throbbing.

She stepped around him slowly and walked to his desk, then turned to face him. With a flick of his
wand, the tidy paperwork on his desk disappeared.

He uncuffed his sleeve, rolling up the arm to his elbow. "Have you ever been spanked before,
Granger?"

Her throat went dry, and her knees trembled. "Per-perhaps when I was child—"

"Sexually." He walked toward her as he reached for his other cuff.

"No." She swallowed. Her pulse raced, anxiety rocketing through her blood. "You—you said I was
in control here. That you wouldn't—"

"That was your office. You've come to mine."

He stopped in front of her, and she could smell his cologne — the same scent that had slithered into
her sheets just days ago. She licked her lips.

"Tell me why you're being punished," he said.

"Because you're a control freak?"

His lips tightened. "We don't have to do this anymore, Granger." His voice was smooth and easy.
"This relationship can end. No hard feelings. But if you want to continue, then it's time you faced
some consequences for your actions."
She felt her breath catch. Malfoy was going to "punish her." For being "bad." She didn't have to
accept, but it would all be over after today if she refused. Was that what she wanted?

Couldn't she just have a normal sexual relationship with him?

God, what was she saying? With Malfoy?

She blew out a deep breath, watching the hair at his temples flutter. "Can I still use Yellow and
Red?"

"I insist."

His pupils were blown black, and she followed the curve of his cheek down to his jaw, finding
spots of pink blooming. She nodded once.

"Bend over my desk," he said. Simple. Effectual.

Hermione moved to the side of it and pressed her torso down onto the cool mahogany. She propped
herself up on her elbows and looked at him for his approval.

"All the way."

With a huff, she pressed her cheek to the wood. He moved around her, out of her sight.

"Why are you being punished, Granger?" his voice hummed from behind.

"Because I masturbated without permission," she bit out.

He placed his fingers on her spine, just above the waist of her skirt. "Is that all?"

"I used the wrong toy." Her breath caught as his fingers slid down, rounding her backside.

"And?"

"I suppose I'm quite mouthy."

She heard him chuckle, and then her skirt was flipped up over her waist. Her thighs tensed, and she
bit her lip. She tried to imagine what he was faced with—was it her cotton knickers or had she
worn lace today?

"Tell me again why you're being spanked, Granger." His palm skimmed over her bare thigh.

"I masturbated without—"

She heard it before she felt it. The swift slice of skin against skin, and then the jolt of her hips in
response to the sharp burst across her right bum cheek. Her body was tight, waiting.

"Go on?"

"... without permission."

Smack! The top of her right thigh.

She gasped, and quickly buttoned her lips closed. Her fingers crept out to grasp the edge of the
desk.

"What else?" he said.

"I used the purple toy."

Two swift hits to her left cheek, rapid, succinct. Her shoulders curled up to her ears and her ribs
contracted around her lungs.

"Do you need me to count?" she rushed out.

"Why?" he asked, a smile in his tone. "Do you know how many I'm giving you?"

"I—I—"

He slapped her across her knickers, the fabric muffling the sting, and then his palm rubbed over the
exposed flesh. Her entire backside felt warm and prickly.

"What else, Granger."

"I mouth off." She braced herself, but it didn't help the surprise of his palm across the back of each
thigh, right, left, right, left.

"Anything else?" He pulled her knickers to the side, tucking the fabric between her cheeks and
exposing more of her.

"I should have told you I needed to get off." Clenching her jaw, she waited for it.

One smack that made her rise on her toes, pressing her hips into the desk. Her fingernails dug into
the wood.

Another to her other cheek, and she yelped. His hand soothed over the burning skin.

"Such a pretty picture you make, Granger," he hummed. "Pink and rosy just for me."

"Yes," she heard herself say.

"What will you do the next time you need release?"

"I'll contact you—"

Smack! against her right side.

"—right away! I won't touch myself—"

Smack! against her left.

"—without you!"

"What about right now, Granger?" he whispered, pressing a hand to the base of her spine. "Do you
need to get off right now?"
She swallowed. Her muscles were strained in preparation for the next hit, but her hips were flaring
with warmth. She could feel the moisture building between her legs.

"Granger?"

"Yes." Her voice burst from her lips.

"Here? In my office? Without any Silencing Charms?"

She gasped, her mind lighting up in concern. He pressed down between her shoulder blades as she
tried to stand.

"Answer me. Do you need this?"

Her thighs pressed together. "Yes."

He slid his hands over her backside, reaching for the waist of her knickers and tugging them down,
leaving them halfway down her thighs. She was panting against his desk, fogging up the wood.

Something pressed against her entrance, and she gasped. She hadn't even heard him unbutton.

"Oh, god." She clenched her jaw as his cock pressed slowly into her.

"That's it, Granger. Just like that."

He hadn't been inside her since Saturday. She'd forgotten how delicious the stretch was. Her eyes
fluttered closed as he pressed a hand to her back, holding her in place.

Smack!

A strangled cry left her lips as he spanked her cheek. Her cunt contracted on him, tense
everywhere.

"Just like that," he whispered from above her. "Good girl."

Another hit, right where the last has been. Her toes curled and her breath was ragged as she
wriggled against his hold.

He pushed further into her, and she keened as he bottomed out, his hips pressed against her burning
backside. She pressed her forehead into the wood desk, cursing and clenching.

His rhythm was brutal. He kicked out one of her legs and tugged her hips upwards. She moaned
and writhed, and his cock pummeled into her.

Her spanked her while his cock was inside of her, and she shivered, her knees buckling. The spark
of pain was intoxicating. It was like the stretch of him—unbelievable and sensuous. Like fire under
her skin.

"I wanna come across your pretty pink ass, Granger."

"Please. Yes."

"Gonna rub my come all over you."

She groaned, pushing back against him.

"Do you think you learned your lesson?" he said.

"Yes. Yes, I—"

She cut off as he slapped her ass and hit her G-spot at the same time. She saw white behind her
eyelids.

"I'll be good," she mumbled drunkenly. "I'll be so good."

"That's my good girl," he panted.

Then he was pulling out, disappearing from her momentarily, and before Hermione could turn over
her shoulder, something soft pressed against her cheeks, right over the pain. And then wet.

She gasped. He was kissing her cheeks, licking at her hot flesh.

One kiss between her thighs, and her mind was filled with the hesitant hand Ron ran through his
hair when she asked if he was interested. Cormac's face as he wiped his mouth, a downward twist
to his lips — Maybe after you've showered?

"Red!"

The mahogany desk felt cold under her cheek.

There was half a second where she was utterly alone — bent over in the quiet, nothing but her
breath.

And then his hand was soft against her shoulder, his eyes appearing in front of hers as he knelt next
to his desk.

And the situation smacked into her like gravity.

She released a tight laugh. "Sorry." She laughed again. "No, not Red. Um—"

"What's wrong?"

Pushing up to her elbows, she brushed the hair out of her face. "Right. Sorry. That wasn't what I
meant—"

"Granger." His voice was firm, but not displeased. "Tell me why you used Red."

"I didn't mean to—"

"Tell me."

"I—I—" She laughed again. He did not. "I don't prefer oral. Um, you to me. It's… I shouldn't have
called Red—"

He waved his hand, and the parchment with her notations appeared in his fingers. His eyes were
intent, running over the page.
Her skin was hot, and she felt like she just needed a good cry. Or an orgasm. Both, would be
preferable.

"It's not on there," she clarified. "I was confused. I thought it was me to you, and… It was an
oversight."

His fingers flicked and the parchment disappeared. His gaze returned to her face. "How do you
feel?"

"Fine!" She smiled brightly. "I'd—I'd love to continue… just with… anything but that."

He searched her face, looking for her lies.

"Really, I'm fine!" She stood tall, quickly shoved her knickers down to her ankles, and said, "I'm
sorry I masturbated this morning. I'll be good—"

"We're not stopping to punish you," he said, standing with her. He was still hard (thank god).
"We're stopping because you asked for the scene to end. Does that make sense?"

"Yes!" She reached for him. "Yes, of course! I get it. Can we… continue? Or…."

His eyes ran over her face. "Would you like to tell me why you don't want my mouth on you?"

Would you like to tell me why you would want your mouth on me? she wanted to joke back, but she
knew that wouldn't fly.

"No." She swallowed. "I just haven't enjoyed it in the past."

Almost true. Cormac had been so unenthused, it had felt like nothing she wanted to repeat.

She was standing in front of him with her skirt rolled up to her waist and her knickers at her feet,
and if he said they needed to stop now, she would scream.

"Please, Malfoy." She stepped into him, and when he didn't move her away, she pressed her mouth
to his. He kissed her back hesitantly. She slipped her tongue into his mouth and pushed her chest
against his. "Please."

"Please, what," he whispered against her.

"I need to get off. I need you to help me."

His eyes were intent on her as he reached for her waist, watching her carefully.

She started unbuttoning her blouse, kissing his jaw and moaning when his hand dropped down to
her core. Half-unbuttoned, her hands dove into his hair, pulling him to her. She dragged him
backward, hoping he'd lay her out on his desk again.

"Ah-ah," he paused. "Your backside won't appreciate that."

She blinked up at him. "Oh."

He pulled her toward his chair and sat down. She was quick to straddle his lap.
"Are you sure you don't want some space, Granger?"

"No, please don't stop." Her mouth attached to his neck, and she dropped her hips to position
herself over him. "I want to be good."

One hand on her hip, one hand grabbing her hair to force her to look into his eyes. "You are good.
My good girl."

And then he was guiding his cock back to her entrance. Her lashes fluttered, but he held his grip on
her hair, tilting her chin so she had to watch his face as he slid inside of her.

He was only halfway in but her legs were already shaking.

"Wider."

She shimmied to press her knees open, his obnoxiously large chair suddenly a blessing.

"Tell me you're my good girl," his voice rumbled, and he pushed deeper.

She dropped low on him until he was all the way inside. Her mouth dropped open in a loud moan,
and she said, "I'm your good girl."

"Did you like getting spanked, Granger?"

"Yes," she groaned, the truth spilling from her.

He pushed her hips away, and then pulled them back, fucking himself with her body.

"Did it get you wet?"

"Yes."

She followed his lead, letting her hips roll forward and sink back. Her thighs were going to collapse
any moment, but she had to finish this. Her fingers curled into his shirt.

"What did you think about when you played with yourself?" His voice was like honey dripping into
her ears.

"This," she rasped. Riding him like this.

"Good." His fingers dropped to her clit, and she keened.

He rubbed in soft circles — too soft — and she ached to press her lips against his, but he held her
hair to keep her from moving.

"Malfoy… I need…"

"I know what you need," he murmured.

His hand left her clit, and she whimpered. But then swift and sharp—

Smack!

—right over her bare ass. She yelped, her cunt squeezing, her body tight. So close.
 And again, a painful bite of his palm. The skin was burning, and she sobbed in relief.

Black spots pricked her vision. She mumbled nonsense.

And then his palm met her backside once more—

She hollered with the painful pleasure of it, her cunt finally contracting, her body finally shaking,
her thighs finally holding onto his sides.

White behind her eyes. A yelling in her ears. And when she returned to herself, his fingers were on
her clit again, pushing her higher and higher as his hips finally pistoned upward, fucking her.

"Just like that. Good girl. What a good girl."

Her body shook. She felt her voice coming in bursts.

He pressed hard on her clit and slammed their bodies together over and over.

She screamed again. And she heard him grunt against her shoulder slowing, stilling.

His breath was hot on her skin. She was still shaking.

He released her hair and ran a soothing hand over her scalp. His other hand moved to her backside,
and she hissed, but he just rubbed the sore flesh with gentle fingers.

Pulling back from her shoulder, he said to her, "I'm going to feed you dinner tonight, Granger. If
you have plans, cancel them. And then we're going to do this again."

She nodded eagerly, knowing she would gladly cancel anything for this.

"Good girl."

Chapter End Notes

No update schedule at this time.

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 Chapter 4
Chapter Notes

For my sweet baboo's birthday. Love you raven_maiden .

Thank you to Graendoll and monsterleadmehome for Beta'ing!

Tags are updated, so if you need to check them, please do!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Spanking was almost bland in comparison to what Hermione experienced in the next week.

On Friday, after he took her back to his place, fed her the most outstanding dinner she'd ever had,
and allowed her to prattle about work for an hour, he brought her to his bedroom and told her to
ride his cock until she howled. But it took some time for her to get used to the nothing he was
doing.

He lay back on his mattress, his hands behind his head and his eyes on her bare chest as she sunk
down on him over and over. Hermione changed the angle, changed the pace, changed the places she
pressed her lips on him — but still he wouldn't engage more than heavy breaths. It wasn't until she
gave up on getting him to fuck her, and just allowed herself to fuck, that she started building up to
her climax. It was powerful, the way she could do anything to him like that. As her cunt started to
flutter and her eyes rolled back in her head, he finally reached forward and ran soft fingers over her
breast, the other hand thumbing her clit.

She did howl.

She asked him afterward if that was some kind of experiment or "scene."

"I just wanted you to take what you need for a change," he said, threading his fingers through her
hair as his spend cooled on her stomach and over her breasts. "I was rough with you today."

She languished with him on his bed of decadent sheets that warmed to the touch, underneath a
luxurious canopy that looked out over a view of the London streets below. When she sat upright
and asked anxiously if she was meant to stay the night or go home, he responded, "Whichever
you'd like." She bit her lip and decided to go home, instead of overstaying her welcome.

But he was there at her flat on Saturday morning with eggs and bacon again.

"Oh. Good morning. Again." She ran her hand through her hair as he set the groceries down on her
counter. "Are you to be here every Saturday, then?"

He looked at her over the orange juice he was already pouring for her. "I asked you last night at
dinner if you had any plans for the weekend."
She blinked. He had. But he hadn't made plans. She almost snapped about the importance of other
people's time and schedules when he said, "Take off your pajamas," innocently.

And then, remembering how last Saturday morning had turned out — with its four orgasms — she
complied.

Watching him cook breakfast for her was a lesson in patience. She could feel her body responding
to being so vulnerable in front of him. Just the act of rolling his sleeves up to his elbows had her
senses on high alert. He asked her how she slept, if she used a toy last night, and if she wanted
pepper on her eggs — his tone of casual interest, with barely a passing glance to her naked body.

Her naked body, on the other hand, felt anything but casual interest. She eventually leaned her
elbows on the counter, letting the cold tile press against her stomach, stretching her back and
pushing her chest forward.

It did nothing. He finished cooking, then set her plate on the dining table.

She sat naked on a cold chair with a fully clothed Draco Malfoy, eating breakfast together. She
continued her gripe from the previous night's conversation about a coworker. He listened and
nodded when appropriate. She felt she was talking too much. It was almost normal, except that she
was naked.

When they were done eating, and she was only picking at her toast while speaking, he reached out
and ran his fingertip over the tightened bud of her nipple. Her words cut off in a sizzle of
electricity.

"Go on," he insisted, tickling her breast with his thumb.

She continued, stammering, losing focus as his fingers moved softly over her skin. Swiftly, he
stood and came to hover behind her. She craned her neck to ask what he wanted her to do, but his
hands only covered her breasts, rubbing and teasing, as he said, "Go on."

She tried to talk. She tried to find the point of her story. But the feather-light touch to her nipples
was driving her mad. Eventually a low moan crested out of her, and she tipped her head back. He
swept forward to kiss her throat. His teeth scraped across her neck, and his lips sucked hard, but his
bloody fingers were soft and unhurried on her breasts.

"Please touch me," she begged.

He pulled away from her neck, kissed her slowly on her lips at a crooked angle, and said, "I will, if
you do something for me."

Her core throbbed at the invitation. "Anything," she whispered, drugged with the sensations.

His hands finally left her chest, and she groaned at the loss. He ran his hands from her shoulders
down to her palms, dropping kisses onto her neck as he went. Taking her wrists, he brought them
behind the chair and with a muttered charm, tied them together with the softest cloth.

Her breath caught. She blinked up at him.

"Okay?" he asked.
The scarves were soft, but it was the first time she'd been restrained. Her mind wandered to every
other time with him — how easy it was to say "Red" if she was uncomfortable. She nodded eagerly.

Pressing a bit more firmly now, he ran his hands from her shoulders forward over her breasts and
down her stomach. The angle of her hands behind the chair made her chest push forward, and she
felt downright saucy. His hands coasted over her hips, passing her core, and slipping to her knees.
He was towering over her from behind the chair as he pushed her knees open, encouraging her to
go wider, wider.

Air was tight in her chest in anticipation. Her hips were open, her chest was heaving. She felt
herself dripping onto the chair.

And then he muttered the binding spell two more times, and silk scarves twined themselves over
her ankles, tying them to the chair legs.

She couldn't breathe. She was caught between arousal and anxiety. She wouldn't have control of her
limbs at all.

He kissed her neck slowly, and then whispered into her ear, "What are you supposed to say if it's
too much?"

Just his voice brought goosebumps to her skin, pebbling her nipples and cascading down to tease
her core. "Yellow."

"Good girl."

She whined as his fingers traced along her ribcage, coming to center and drifting down. She was
wide open for him as he flitted across her clit, pausing to circle it before heading lower. Her head
tilted to the side when his middle finger slid into her without any hesitation. He ran his teeth over
the shell of her ear. "You're drenched, Granger. Is all this for me?"

"Yes." Her eyes rolled back, and her head lolled on his shoulder. "Yes, it's for you."

He eased his finger out and added a second one. She whimpered, and he used his free hand to
tangle in her hair and turn her head to his. His lips massaged hers, kissing and sucking as his
fingers filled her. Her hips were shifting, trying to ride his hand, but every time she started a rhythm
too fast, he'd pull out of her and let his fingers drift softly over her clit. Too softly. This, combined
with the way his other hand had slithered out of her hair and down to cup one breast — too
softly — was driving her mad.

She mumbled against his lips, "Please, more. Please, Malfoy."

He complied, slipping through her folds again and beginning a slow pace. She huffed and asked for
it faster. And he complied with that too. She was shaking in the chair, her hands tugging at the
scarves and her knees twisting to try to close. But it still wasn't enough.

His lips were moving delicately across her throat, as if his fingers weren't thrusting quickly below.
His left hand was rubbing soothing circles over her breast as if she wasn't squeaking in need.

"My clit. Please." He slipped his fingers out of her and rubbed her. And not a second later she cried,
"Harder!"
It was the magic word. His fingers pressed down, his other hand squeezed over her breast, and his
teeth sunk into her neck. Out of her lips popped the slightest "oh!" just as her body started to
contract. Her legs tensed, toes curled into her carpet as the backs of her thighs rose off the seat. She
was almost there.

His thumb and forefinger pinched her nipple, then reached across and pinched her other. His fingers
slipped back inside of her and started to slam into her over and over and over — the heel of his
palm connecting with her clit on every entrance.

Her soul was spinning, ricocheting out of her chest. She begged him to fuck her, to let her come. He
caught her mouth with his and bit down hard on her tongue—

She burst into pieces, shattering like glass. She felt herself free-falling, skin humming and tight.
And then she was being lifted. He took her out of the chair — ankles free, but her hands still tied
behind her back — and set her on her feet. He pushed her face down on the table, knocking glasses
and plates, and before she even had her mind back in her body, he was pushing inside of her,
trousers already unbuttoned. She screamed, rising up on her toes as another wave of pleasure
dragged her under.

He kept one hand on her tied wrists, one on her hip, and pounded into her, grunting and huffing.
She was still catching her breath as he started losing his, muttering, "Knew you'd like this, Granger.
Knew you wanted it like this. I can give it to you like this forever—"

"Yes, please," she gasped. He must not have known he was speaking out loud, because her voice
shocked him into falling over the edge, spurting inside of her and locking his hips to hers as he
bowed over, groaning against her shoulder. She felt him pump his hips against her twice more, and
she smiled against the dining table, satisfied that his orgasm was just as intense as hers.

After spending some time pressing kisses between her shoulder blades, he slipped the silk off her
wrists and turned her around to check to see if she had any soreness. He tucked himself back in his
trousers, and with a deep kiss goodbye, left her naked in her flat with his come still inside of her.

~*~

She spent Sunday pacing her flat, wondering if he'd show up or if he'd summon her. She felt like a
well-trained dog, eager for a treat. Her body was wound tight, waiting and waiting. When his owl
did appear at the end of the evening, the note mentioned that he was exhausted, but would like her
to come to his office on Monday after work hours.

The second she was finished penning her response back, she disappeared to her bedroom, grabbing
the (approved) pink toy and taking care of herself.

On Monday afternoon, she was ashamed of how soon after five o'clock she knocked on Malfoy's
office door. But that embarrassment quickly faded when he asked her to drop to her knees.

"I'll take care of you after, Granger," he said with a wink.

She was on the ground quicker than a spell. Her fingers were steady as she opened his trousers and
brought his cock to her lips. He sat in his office chair and watched her, guiding her head, letting his
fingers curl into her hair.
He was quick. Before she knew it, he was groaning, spurting down her throat. She swallowed him
greedily.

He tucked himself back in and said, "Shall we get dinner?"

Her heart fluttered in her chest. "I— But—"

"Can you wait?" He lifted a blond brow, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

She swallowed, the taste of him still in her mouth. "Yes."

He took her to a small cafe where they wouldn't be recognized. She sat across from him as he lazily
ordered a bottle of wine and asked her opinion on chicken or fish. Her knickers were damp, and her
core was buzzing.

They talked about the years between Hogwarts and now, and he asked her about her parents and
shared about his. She was starting to feel it was all too normal again. And just before the bill came,
he lifted his eyes to hers and said, "Granger, go to the loo. Don't lock the door behind you."

She almost choked. His gaze spelled his intentions perfectly. She stood on trembling legs and left
for the restrooms. He must have known it was a single stall, or maybe he hadn't, but Hermione was
grateful for it.

When the door pushed open two minutes later, she licked her lips at his expression.

"Put your hands on the sink," he said, locking the door.

Almost too eagerly, she moved to the sink and did what he asked. He stood behind her, sweeping
her hair to the side and kissing her neck. She watched the whole thing in the mirror. The way his
hands disappeared under her skirt. The way his lips sucked on her skin. The way heat blossomed on
her cheeks.

He kicked her legs wider, and slipped her knickers down to her knees. The rustle of his trousers
opening was loud against the tiles. She kept her hands tightly on the sink, and watched his face as
his cock sunk into her. Her lashes fluttered, and his did the same.

He pulled her hips to his and held her eyes in the mirror as he thrust forward, over and over. The
sound of his skin against her backside was lewd, but her heavy breaths covered it eventually.

She whined, letting her eyes fall closed, and a swift smack on her arse jerked her. Her eyes snapped
open to his.

"Don't close your eyes," he demanded. She nodded and watched his face as he fucked her.

He did the same.

He stepped backward and pulled her hips with him. His cock was so deep inside of her she felt like
she could burst. He rubbed against her G-spot with every thrust, and she climbed higher and higher.

Another smack! against her rear. She opened eyes she didn't even know she'd closed.

"What did I say?"

"I'm s—" Her apology cut off when his cock did something that made her choke. She gasped,
watching his face in the mirror. His cheeks were pink, and his hairline was damp.

"Open your blouse," he said.

Her fingers left the sink and quickly unbuttoned her top. She pulled the material open wide so he
could see her soft pink bra before dropping her hands back to the porcelain. They both watched her
tits bounce behind the lace as his rhythm sped up.

Her thighs were trembling, begging for release. It was unbearable to keep her eyes open when they
wanted to fall shut and let her live in this moment forever.

The bathroom door knob rattled. Hermione gasped, but Malfoy didn't stop. "Occupied," he
bellowed.

Hermione was mortified. Someone was right on the other side of this door. And they'd see two
people exit. Two people who looked thoroughly fucked—

"Don't even think about it, Granger," he whispered. "You're going to come. And then I'm going to
come. And there's nothing anyone outside that door can do to stop it."

She bit her lip and nodded. He pressed a kiss under her ear, and his fingers reached down to her clit.

This time she knew her eyes closed, but the spark of pain with the slap of his hand on her arse was
welcomed. She keened, and rolled her eyes open.

"Do you like that, Granger? Do you like getting spanked while my cock is inside of you?"

She swallowed and closed her eyes in response. The sting of his palm sent shivers through her core.

"Do I need to think of new punishments for my bad girl?"

She rolled up on her toes, lips pressing together. She didn't know why "bad" had the same effect as
"good," but she didn't question it. He slapped her arse again, and her cunt contracted around him.
Her legs shook and she started to moan.

He grabbed her jaw and pulled her upright against his chest. "That's it, Granger." Her fingertips
were barely brushing the sink now. "That's my good girl."

His hips rocked into her over and over. She tried to keep her choked screams inside her chest but he
fucked her harder, digging her hip bones into the sink as his cock slammed into her.

When the knock on the door came again, so did she.

She groaned and her body twisted in pleasure. He continued to fuck her as her legs tremored,
unable to keep herself standing. She gasped in pleasure. His hips holding her to the sink and his
hand around her neck were the only thing keeping her upright.

He finished inside of her with a long, drawn-out moan that was sure to be heard outside the loo.
She panted and watched him ride out his pleasure inside of her body. When he was done, he
released her, and she braced herself on the sink as he pulled her knickers up. The indication was
clear: my come stays inside of you.
They fixed their clothes and when he walked them out past a stern-looking gentleman with a
mustache, Hermione couldn't be bothered to care with Malfoy's hand in hers.

~*~

On Wednesday, he sent her a note at work asking if she was free that night. He wanted to bring
dinner to her flat and then do unspeakable things to her body. She chewed on her thumbnail as she
wrote back that she was.

Only she wasn't. While Draco Malfoy artfully tied her wrists tied behind her back with a rope that
wound up past her elbows and around her shoulders, she was supposed to be at dinner.

Her Muggle phone started ringing from her room as he was working her up to her second orgasm.
He sat on her sofa, and she straddle his thighs. His mouth was on her breast and his cock was
buried deep inside of her as the ringtone burst across the flat. Her nipple popped from his mouth as
he said, "What the bloody hell is that bird?"

"Oh," she said, pausing in meeting him thrust for thrust. "That's my phone." She bit her lip and
looked down at him. "It can wait."

His eyes flashed at her, and his lips dropped back to her breast. She could do nothing but accept the
pleasure from this position. Her arms were tied together at the elbows, and she couldn't move
anything but her hips. He was fucking her from below, shifting his hips upwards while his hands
ground her down on him in the pace he liked. The first orgasm had made her thighs shake so hard,
she thought she'd lose her balance off his lap. When she'd recovered, he was keeping his same
rhythm and pressure, and she knew it was just a matter of time until she snapped again.

But her phone rang a second time. She sighed, and he stopped.

"Going forward, I will be confiscating your mobile device, Granger," he said. She rolled her eyes at
him, and he slapped her backside. "Can whatever it is wait three minutes so we can both get off?"

Her curiosity about who would need to contact her twice lost out to the idea of coming again —
and that quickly.

She nodded and sent a wandless Silencing Charm to her phone. He dragged her mouth down to his
and kissed her breathless. Both hands grabbed her waist and held her down on top of him as his
hips pistoned up into her, over and over and over. She moaned into his mouth, and his tongue
lapped at hers.

"You like being tied up, Granger?" he rasped against her lips. "You like me being in control?"

She knew by now that there was nothing he liked more than to have her agree with his nonsensical
mutterings when he was close to coming. And most of the time she was one hundred percent on
board.

"Yes. I love it."

"You're so good. Such a good girl to let me take care of you."

His words sent pleasure spinning through her hips. She dropped her head onto his shoulder. "Yes,
thank you. Please, take care of me."
"So good," he mumbled over and over. His hips were pumping quickly below her, and all she could
do was sit tall and take it. Her arms couldn't move. "So good. Do you need to come?"

"Yes, please, I need it. I need it," she whined.

"I'll take care of you." He pressed a light kiss to her cheek, and she choked out a gasp — her cunt
clenching around him and her breath whooshing out.

She screamed and fell forward against him as his hips kept fucking her, seeking his own release.
She bit down on his shoulder and whimpered when his cock continued hitting that sweet spot inside
of her. He wasn't done with her yet, and she was still coming.

He was working her up to another cliff when three sharp raps on the door of her flat made her gasp
and made him clutch her close and pause.

"Expecting company, Granger?" he hissed raggedly.

"N-no."

The knocks came again, and then Hermione's nervous system suffered a malfunction when Harry
Potter's voice called, "Hermione, are you in there?"

She gasped, and tried to slap a hand over her mouth but her hands were roped behind her back and
Draco Malfoy's cock was buried inside her aching cunt so she just gaped like a fish.

Malfoy, to his credit, only clenched his jaw and glared at the door.

"Hermione, we're coming in," another voice joined Harry's, and she had the perfect divination of
Ron and Harry bursting down her door to find her tied up in Draco Malfoy's lap, her thighs still
trembling from her last orgasm.

"No! Hi! Hello!" she called. "I'll get the door!" She slipped off of Malfoy's hips as gingerly as she
could, his cock still erect, bouncing against his stomach. She turned around and gestured with her
neck for him to release the ropes.

There was a moment where he just sent her an icy glare, and she almost wondered if he would
disappear through the Floo, leaving her naked and bound for her friends. But then with a wave of
his hand, the ropes slipped off her arms, slithering down to the floor and disappearing.

She shook feeling back into her hands, and summoned a robe from her bedroom. "Fucking hell, I
think I was supposed to have dinner with them tonight." She gathered up their discarded clothing,
tossing him a few pieces of his, before realizing he hadn't moved from the couch. "Well?!"

"Well, what?" His voice was tight, his consonants crisp.

"You have to go!"

Knock, knock, knock! "Hermione?"

"One second!" She sent her clothing whizzing into her bedroom and turned to the blond with the
erection that had decided to take up residence in her living room. "Go to my room at least! They'll
knock down the door, Malfoy!" she whispered manically.
After a handful of heartbeats, Malfoy finally rose from the couch and took himself into the rear of
the apartment. Her bedroom door slammed shut.

Slapping her face to clear her head, she fastened her robe tighter and painted on a firm smile. She
wrenched open the door and found her two best friends with wands out, looking over her shoulder
into her flat. "Ron! Harry! We were supposed to have dinner tonight, weren't we? I'm so sorry I
forgot."

Harry was first to pocket his wand and bring his gaze to her face. "You're alright?"

"Yes! Brilliant. I just can't believe I missed it—"

"You're flushed." Ron's gaze was narrowed on her. "You're in a right state."

She brought her fingers to her cheeks and jaw. "Yes, I actually am feeling a bit under the weather. I
should have let you know in advance that I was coming down with something."

"Thought you said you forgot." Ron's eyes cast behind her into the flat again.

"I forgot because I was sick." Her lips curled into a quick grin. "Anyway, I'm so sorry—"

Ron pushed past her, his wand out as he barreled into the living room.

"Ron! Excuse me!"

"What's really going on? You never miss a dinner."

She blinked at him, mouth opening and closing.

Harry stepped inside and looked into her kitchen, pulling his wand back out. "Is everything alright,
Hermione?" he whispered.

Ron took a step down her hallway and she squeaked, "I'm on a date, you absolute wankers!"

Spinning to stare at her blankly, Ron said, "A date?"

"Yes." She pushed her hair over her shoulder. "We're… We're in the middle."

Harry let out an, "Ah," and carefully excused himself out of the apartment. Ron still blinked at her.

"But it's a Wednesday."

Hermione scrunched up her face at him. "What the hell does that mean?"

"You weren't one for weeknights, as I remember," he said, folding his arms and looking at her a bit
too closely. Before she could tell him he was misremembering his own sexual interest in her, he
stood tall and looked down the short hall to her bedroom. "Is he still here?"

"I— yes! So if you could please—"

"Who is it then?"

"I beg your pardon! I don't have to answer that!"

"I just didn't know you were seeing anybody." He shrugged like he still didn't quite believe that she
was. And that was the last straw for her.

"Well, perhaps, if I wasn't too busy getting shagged good and proper, I would have told you about
him at dinner!"

Ron's cheeks flamed a brilliant red, and his jaw snapped shut. "Fine. We'll reschedule with you
later." His head hung sheepishly as he moved past her and out the door.

She waited for the sound of shoes disappearing down the stairwell before spinning on her heel and
sprinting for the bedroom door. It snapped open before she could reach for it, and Malfoy stepped
out with a fire-breathing expression on his face. His hand flew up and grabbed her jaw, pressing her
back against the wall. She gasped, her eyes popping wide as she took in the curl of his lip and the
heat behind his eyes.

"Don't—ever—tell me what to do again."

She blinked up at him, feeling his fingers pressing into her jaw, slipping down to her throat. Not
tight enough to bruise, but just holding her there.

"Do you understand," he said, a brow arching.

She felt his cock pressing into her stomach through her robe. His other hand squeezing her hip.

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

She looked up into his molten eyes, and felt her belly tighten.

"Yes, Counselor."

His eyes dropped to her lips, and he muttered, "Good girl," before slamming their mouths together.
Hermione gasped, and his tongue swept into her. He rolled his hips against her, and while his one
hand still held her neck, his other tugged her robe down her shoulders until she was naked again.

He pinched her nipple hard, and as she squeaked, he released her to scoop her up. Her legs wrapped
around his waist, and her hands scrambled for his shoulders. She'd scarcely taken a breath before
his cock was back at her entrance, pushing forward and stretching her open again.

A wail released from her throat. She was still wet from before, but it was a shock to have him push
all the way in. He eased out, and pistoned back in, hard. She swallowed her cry. It was almost
uncomfortable, but as he rocked into her, lifting her up the wall, she felt herself take him again,
accommodating.

Her eyes started to roll back in her head as his breath panted heavy on her face. Then suddenly his
hand was on her throat again, fingertips pressing on her jaw, his thumb leaning on her pulse. Her
eyes snapped open to him as he continued to pound into her.

"Do you know why you get to come tonight, Granger?"

She stared at him, jaw falling open, and waited.

His thumb pressed onto her neck. Not her air, but just to the side. Her heart thumped wildly.

"Because you told Weasley you were getting 'shagged good and proper.'" He smirked at her, and
she felt his fingers pressing against her throat from the other side.

"It's true," she gasped. Her air was tight. Spots dancing in her vision. "I am."

"Best of your life, isn't it, Granger?" he punctuated with a particularly vicious thrust that angled his
cock just right to brush against the sweet spot inside of her.

"Yes!"

"Say it, Granger."

"You're the best of my life," she gasped. He was the only thing she could still make out in her
vision. His cock continued spiraling her higher, and his fingers held firm on her throat.

A floating feeling pulsed over her. Her body was no longer her own. She gasped, and felt him
watching her as her eyes rolled back. Her mind disconnected, hovering just out of reach. Her core
throbbed, her cunt started spasming. She mumbled nonsense, and could just make out his words:
"You can come now, Granger."

Her body uncoiled, pleasure twirling out over her limbs. She gasped for breath to scream. She was
sailing backward, falling into an ocean of bliss. She felt drugged. Completely detached and yet
fully inside her body.

The pressure on her throat released. A spinning sensation filled her brain. Bright colors and loud
sounds — the blue-grey of his eyes and the heavy sound of air pushed through his lips. She
snapped her eyes open, gulping down air, and focused on the tense feeling in her hips. The winding
up again.

She was back in her mind. He was fucking her against the wall at a dangerous pace, and her body
was throbbing for it.

"Taking it so good." He bit her lip, and then kissed it. "Take me so good. You're such a good girl,
Granger."

"Yes."

"You wanna come again, Granger?"

"Yes!"

"It's been three for you, and none for me. Do you think that's right?"

"Please, Malfoy. I need it," she wheezed against his cheek. He shifted her in his arms and changed
the angle of his cock. "Fuck—"

"Tell me, Granger. Tell me how much you need it." His lips dipped to her neck, starting to slow the
pace of his hips.

"Oh, god. Oh, please, Malfoy. I need it. You're the only one who can give it to me, please—"
 His hips rocked forward and she keened, babbling her words and twisting them up. He reached
down and touched her clit for the first time since she was tied up in his lap. Her muscles trembled
and her voice quavered.

"I'm the only one, Granger. Say it again."

"Yes, yes, you're the only one—"

He pressed hard on her clit, and she howled, toes curling, mind fracturing. She was shaking all over
as he pumped into her, leaving bite marks on her neck and shoulder. Her fingernails were scraping
over his scalp as her body relaxed.

He came inside of her with a growl, something so primal that she quivered with the sound of it. He
held her body there for a few moments as they caught their breath. She felt his come dripping, but
he refused to ease his cock out of her.

When he finally pulled his face from her neck and met her eyes, he said, "Don't shower tonight. Or
tomorrow morning. I want you to come to work still smelling like me. With my come still buried
inside of this sweet cunt."

She was too exhausted and blissed to argue it. "Yes, Counselor."

Chapter End Notes

Next Chapter 2/14/2022.

Find me on Twitter or join the Facebook group for Lovesbitca8 followers and the Rights and
Wrongs series called Rights & Wrongs .
 Chapter 5
Chapter Notes

GALENTINES DAYYYYYY! 😈

Two quick things:

1) I have EXCITING THINGS HAPPENING, so please follow my socials to learn about it
first! Follow me on Twitter , TikTok , Instagram , Tumblr , and join the Facebook group for
Lovesbitca8 followers and the Rights and Wrongs series called Rights & Wrongs .

2) I have a feeling that Good will only have 2 more chapters, so I'm making the chapter count
?/7 for now. Hopefully I'll surprise myself and write more! But I'd hate to tell you all at the top
of chapter 6 that it's the next to last chapter, so I thought I'd do it now.

Thank you to Graendoll and monsterleadmehome for Beta'ing! Check those new tags if you
need content warnings, and enjoy!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Something had shifted after that night Harry and Ron had almost caught them. It wasn't that Malfoy
had changed or that his behavior with her had changed. But that she had shifted in some way. There
was some part of her that truly started to enjoy their time together.

Of course she enjoyed it before. Enjoyment was very much on the menu. But now, the anxiety she
had about the next encounter stemmed from excitement, instead of dreading the unknown. She
looked forward to every workday, wondering if he would invite her somewhere after work, or
simply take her across his desk at lunch. True to his word (unfortunately), her office was a place
she was allowed control — a place he would not assert himself on her.

And some days that really pissed her off. A pair of lacy knickers and matching bra went
unappreciated on Thursday when he insisted on a meeting in her office regarding their latest case.
Hermione was wet from the moment he walked into the room, but he kept the door open and talked
nothing but the case. It was quite disappointing.

She made a point to go to his office on Friday, and when it was clear what she was there for, he
immediately locked the door and told her to get on her knees. Sucking him off under his desk had
become a favorite past-time for both of them. As he groaned, starting to lose control, he said, "I
need you to swallow," and she eagerly blinked her agreement. Once he'd finished, she stared up at
him brightly until he finally told her to be "good girl" and take off her knickers. She complied,
handing them to him, but he'd only instructed her to come over to his flat after work.

It was Hermione's longest afternoon she could remember. Her skin buzzed and her core throbbed at
every movement. Her boss had a meeting with her at the end of the day, and she'd never been more
aware of her thighs and the muscles she used to keep them pressed together.
When she arrived at his flat that evening, he had dinner prepared for them. Hermione took one look
at the table set for two, and was almost disappointed that she'd be waiting even longer for him to
touch her.

"Not to your liking?"

Her gaze snapped to him as he pulled her chair out for her. "No, not at all! I'm starving, and this
looks wonderful." As he took the head of the table next to her, she remembered being on her knees
in this room only last week as he ate his steak. "Is there anything you want me to do?" she asked
shyly.

He shook his head once with a soft smile. "Just eat." Then a familiar smirk crossed his features.
"Why? Is there something you want to do?"

She unfolded her napkin and pressed her lips together. With the day's teasing still scorching her
skin, and her bare core calling for attention, she replied, "I want to get off. Please."

She watched his eyes heat. "You will." And then he reached for his fork.

He made her wait for it though. Four courses. They had an excellent conversation with the
undercurrent of Hermione's ratcheting arousal not being mentioned once. As she finished her
dessert, ready to just take off her clothes and wait for him to get the message, he folded his hands
and asked, "More wine?"

"No." She swallowed. "Thank you."

He nodded in acceptance and stared at her with a spark in his eye. Her knee bounced under the
table. After several more seconds of holding each other's gaze, Hermione finally bit the bullet.

"If there's something I need to say or do, please know that I am unaware. I'm not being obstinate."

He smiled at her. His teeth were perfectly straight and his incisors sharp. She wanted to run her
tongue over them.

"And have you been good today?"

"I have." Her response was immediate. Her heart thumped.

"I'd like for you to go to my bedroom, take off all of your clothes, and lie in the center of my bed.
Wait for me."

Her breath came quickly as she agreed, standing up at once.

"Wait for me," he repeated, slowly.

She moved quickly to the doorway and followed the corridor down to his bedroom. It was a large
room with dark wallpaper and plush carpets. The centerpiece was the four-poster bed of rich ebony
wood and dark green curtains. Hermione eagerly removed her clothes, folding and laying them on a
chair near his bookcases. It was testament to how terribly excited she was that she didn't pause at
his books, only let her eyes pass over them as she toed off her shoes.

She started to pull back the covers, but decided to give him something to look at when he came in.
Crawling up over the comforter, Hermione lay on her back, attempting to look as appealing as
possible. She crossed her legs, uncrossed her legs, reached her arms over her head, positioned them
over her belly. She finally settled on a position and waited.

And waited.

Her anger threatened to rise, but he'd told her she'd have her turn today. And he knew she'd been
good. So she focused on her patience, even as it wore thin.

It felt like an hour had passed. It would have been a blessing to fall asleep and wake up to him
joining her, but her body was so worked up, she couldn't manage it.

Could something have come up? Surely, he wouldn't just forget about her, but possibly he needed to
dash?

She lay with her hair spread over the pillow, her arms stretched over her head, and her eyes on the
ceiling, waiting.

It had to be a test. She was supposed to fail it by either leaving his room or getting herself off. She
knew that had to be it. Well, she wasn't going to fail. He'd said, "Wait for me." He would be quite
pleased to know she did.

As the time slipped away, she considered reading one of his books. Her head turned to stare at the
bookshelf. Some of the titles were impressive — many of her favorites and many that they had
discussed at length over the past two weeks.

She decided she would count to one thousand, and if he still hadn't shown up, she would go read a
book.

At eight-hundred and forty-eight, the door opened. She jolted up on the mattress, propping herself
up and curling her knees to her chest. He stood in the doorway, sipping from a tumbler and leaning
against the frame. She stared at him, waiting, hoping…

"My, you have been patient."

"Yes," she said breathlessly. "Yes, I have."

He tilted his head and brought the glass to his lips again. "You've waited? You haven't taken care of
yourself?"

"No. I promise."

His eyes tracked over her. "Yes, I can see that."

Her teeth worried her lip, and she pressed her thighs together, hoping to find some relief.

He set the glass down on his bookshelf and said, "I think I'll take a bath."

Breath shook out of her. She had to wait a bit longer. He wasn't satisfied with her yet.

She nodded and said, "Alright. I'll wait."

His lashes fluttered with something. It was so minute she could scarcely be sure she saw it. He
reached up for the buttons on his shirt.
"While I bathe," he said, "why don't you play with your clit a bit." His tone was as if he was
suggesting going for a walk. "But don't come."

She felt her entire body shiver. Such acute excitement in her veins at the idea of finally finding
some pleasure, but agony as well, knowing it was not yet.

"Yes, Counselor," she said, trying to bait him into approving of her.

He slipped his shirt from his shoulders, and she slid her hand down her body, letting her legs fall
open. He took one look at her as she spread herself wide for him, and then turned to the bathroom
on the other side of his suite.

She lay her head back, staring at the ceiling again, and listened to water fill the tub as her fingers
slowly dragged over her clit. It was like an electric shock. Her thighs shook with it.

Hermione bit down on her cheek as she ran her fingertips over her core, just passing the places she
needed them to be. A small moan popped from her throat, and she heard the splash of a body
lowering into the tub.

Her thighs were open toward the bathroom door, and she didn't know if he was watching her, but
she assumed he was. Her fingers swirled circles around her clit, dragging moisture up and around.
Her knees curled into her chest, and her back arched. Her breath was heavy, but she pulled herself
back from the edge. Whining with the ache of it, her teeth clenched and her body screamed.

"Granger," came his voice from the bathroom, and she throbbed. "Come join me."

She shot off his bed, stumbling a bit as she tried to hide her eagerness. When she entered the
bathroom, she found an enormous clawfoot tub, big enough for three. Malfoy was submerged, his
arms resting around the rim and his head leaned back. She couldn't help herself from looking — he
was erect under the water.

She stood naked by the side of the tub, waiting for instruction.

He tilted his head to her, looked her over, and said, "Grab the lather, won't you?"

She followed his gaze to the counter where a sponge and bottle sat. The Hermione of several weeks
ago would have walked out hours ago. But knowing what she did, about how he could make her
feel, about what she needed, Hermione moved to grab the items.

When she returned to the tub and simply waited, he curved a brow. "You're being terribly good
today, aren't you, Granger?"

"Yes."

"If this were school, you'd be receiving Outstandings in every subject."

It was silly, really, feeling the heat flush over her chest and neck. The intake of breath at his words.
The pride and satisfaction flowing through her veins. Her fingers curled around the bottle of gel to
ground herself.

"Put your hair up. Step into the tub."

Her heart skipped. She tossed her hair into a loose bun on the top of her head. Focusing on not
losing her balance, Hermione stepped into the water, taking the bottle and sponge with her. The
temperature was perfect, just this side of too hot. She stood tall, her feet between his, and waited.

"Let's have a wash, then," he said.

She nodded, kneeling slowly into the water. She dipped the sponge and filled it with the gel. Once
she had a lather, she looked up at him. His head was still leaned back, his eyes watching her under
hooded lids. Hermione stretched forward and pressed the sponge into his skin, smearing suds
across his clavicle and shoulders. She watched his chest move slowly with every breath.

With a glance at his dark eyes, she pushed the sponge under water and ran it softly over his
stomach. His muscles contracted but he didn't show any other sign of either pleasure or
dissatisfaction. When she had nothing else to do, Hermione took a chance. She reached her hands
forward, rubbing the suds into his skin, and let her hands wander underwater, lower and lower. She
watched his face as she dipped to his hips, one hand closing over his cock. His lashes fluttered
once. She pumped him slowly, keeping an eye on his expression.

"Do you like this, Granger?" he said lowly.

She licked her lips. "I like the promise of it."

He lifted a brow. Her hand twisted softly over him. "The promise? Whatever do you mean?"

"You said I'd get off tonight," she replied, rather directly.

He hummed. "I suppose I did. But 'tonight' could mean anything. It could be hours from now. It
could be just before sunrise."

The idea was torturous. But she swallowed, pumped his cock again, and said, "Then I'll wait."

A puff of air pressed out of him. Color popped on his cheeks. Finally — a reaction.

His eyes were black as he said, "Turn around."

She blinked, taking her hand off him, and hoping against all hopes. Splashing water out of the tub
clumsily, Hermione turned and sat between his legs, just shy of pressing her backside against his
cock. She sat tall, patiently.

He reached forward past her for the floating sponge, and when he grabbed for the bottle as well, a
shiver ran across her skin, raising her flesh.

The first pass of the sponge across her back was heaven. He squeezed it across her shoulders, and
she felt the suds trailing over her breasts. She knew her breathing was wild and heavy, but she
couldn't be concerned with it as his hands replaced the sponge, just as she had done.

"Lean back."

Her eyes fluttered shut, and she pressed herself back on him. She could feel his cock against her
spine, but he didn't seem to mind as he encouraged her to lay her head on his shoulder. It didn't take
long for his hands to start to wander. Hermione focused on not embarrassing herself with a whine,
but eventually gave in as his right hand dipped below the water while his left cupped her breast.
Her jaw dropped open. His fingers pressed between her legs, and it only took one pass of a
fingertip over her clit for her to squeal. Her knees drew upwards, coiling tight. His finger passed
over her entrance and she clenched, orgasm burning through her faster than ever before. She
panted, hands gripping his arms. Her back arched off his chest, but he only pressed his left hand
against her stomach to keep her close. She could feel his breath across her neck as she started to
relax.

"Good girl," he whispered into the hair behind her ear. "You deserved that."

She caught her breath. "Thank you."

She was still so wound up. She needed more and she hoped he would give it to her.

"Turn around."

She could cry. Carefully, again, she turned to face him, loving the color on his neck and cheeks.
The water was still the perfect temperature, and the tub was wide enough for her to obey when he
told her to come closer. She placed her knees on either side of his hips, and he whispered a
cushioning spell.

Her chest was heaving in anticipation as she waited for his instruction. He stared up at her, eyes
casting over her chest, still wet with suds, and over the curve of her waist.

"Put your hands here." He tapped the rim of the tub behind his head. She did and found herself
leaning forward, her breasts so close to his mouth.

He pressed a soft kiss to the curve of her right breast, and then reached for her hips, guiding her
closer. The first brush of his cock against her entrance underwater had her moaning. He used one
hand to guide himself and the other to pass over her clit. He said a quick lubrication spell, and
suddenly she was slipping over him, guiding herself down, down, until finally connecting with his
hips.

Her chest was tight, her mouth drawn into an "oh." Finally being filled after hours and hours of
waiting was breathtaking.

"Good. Just like this, Granger." He leaned forward and kissed her breast again. "You're gonna come
so quick, aren't you."

"Yes," she hissed. She could feel it already. The stretch inside of her as he pressed against her
sensitive walls.

"I want you to stay still. Do you hear me, Granger?"

"Yes. Yes, Counselor."

"You aren't to spill another drop of water over this tub."

Her eyes opened, and she looked at the level. There was only a few inches to spare from the water
to the rim. "But—but—"

"Do you think you can do that?" His eyes were lazy and dark.

She licked her lips and nodded, watching closely as the water swayed with that small movement.
"Good. Don't move."

He brushed his hands over her hips underwater, and she kept an eye on the way the water sloshed
with it. Her fingers curled into the rim of the tub she leaned forward on.

His lips pressed forward and kissed her chest again. He wasn't moving his hips, just holding her
down on him. And then his mouth closed over her nipple, and her thighs shook.

Her eyes snapped open from where she'd shut them and watched as the water moved with her.

He sucked at her breast, and she felt it in her core. "Oh… Oh my god."

"You're so tight around me," he whispered, his voice humming around her nipple. He gave it a
quick lick. "I think you'll be quick, don't you?"

"Yes." She tried not to breathe in case the water moved. "Yes, I'll be quick."

He sucked at her breast and she shivered. His hands squeezed her hips, and one of them moved to
pass over her clit.

"Oh god."

"Good girl. You won't spill, will you?"

"No, I won't," she whined.

"You're gonna come nice and easy."

"Yes."

His fingers circled her clit. His teeth grazed her nipple.

She felt her eyes roll back, her fingers clawing at the rim of the tub. His cock was so thick and
immovable. She clenched down around him, unable to move her hips. She groaned, so close.

She vowed not to move as she came. She put all her effort into it. The coil inside of her wound so
tight she thought she'd snap. Her thighs shivered. She felt the pleasure spiraling in her toes.

"Love feeling you come on my cock," he whispered. "You take me so deep, hold me so tight."

She gasped, breaking like glass. Her hips shook and her thighs trembled as lights burst behind her
eyes. When sucked in fresh air, she saw the water slosh, but not spill. She dropped her head, letting
her forehead rest against his.

"Good girl, Granger. I think you're liking being good, aren't you?"

"Yes," she panted. "Yes, I am."

He told her to get out of the tub, cast a drying spell, and wait for him on his bed — face down, flat
on her stomach. Within seconds after she pressed her cheek to his sheets, the bed dipped. He
straddled her thighs, placed his hands on her waist, and nudged his cock inside of her roughly.
She yelped, toes curling. He grabbed handfuls of her backside and rocked into her, groaning. Her
fingers tightened around the sheets as he rode her. His pace was unrelenting, and she could scarcely
believe it when she started to tighten around him again.

"Taking another one, Granger?"

"Please," she mumbled into the sheets.

"You want a third tonight?" he grunted.

"Yes."

"Tell me."

"I want a third. Please, Malfoy. Please—"

Her request was cut off as her cunt contracted, stealing her air and seizing all of her muscles. She
had no memory of him coming, because she was completely lost to pleasure for it. But when he
flopped down next to her on his bed, she realized he'd come across her backside; his spend was
cooling there.

She turned her head to face him, and he was already watching her. He licked his lips and puffed air
over her face. "What are you doing tomorrow?"

Blinking at him sleepily, she said, "This."

~*~

He cleaned her up and tucked her into the covers after giving her water and a biscuit from a tin he
kept by his bed. When she woke in the early hours of the morning and found him across the bed,
several feet between the two of them, she wondered what it would be like to wake up cuddled with
him—

Hermione slapped her cheeks to banish the thought. She was up for an hour staring at the ceiling,
wondering what happened to the subs that got too attached to him. Would she not even get a full
month if he felt she'd developed a—a crush? An infatuation?

And worse, there were only two weeks left of their month. How would they part ways? Would he
try to give her the name of a new Dom to help satisfy her needs? Would she even consider that?
Did Hermione even do enough for another Dom to consider her?

She slipped out of bed and pulled a book off his shelf to quiet her mind. When he woke up an hour
later, she watched him reach across the sheets for her empty place. Her heart warmed.

"Granger?" he said, when he finally caught sight of her in the chair next to his books.

"I was thinking," she said, taking a chance. "When I indicated my interests a few weeks ago, there
were many things I couldn't even imagine trying. I've—I've found I quite like everything so far, so I
wondered if we might… expand our horizons."

He rubbed a hand over his face groggily. "Would you like to see the list again?"
She chewed her lip, thinking. "I'm not sure. I would perhaps be interested in… trying them out in
real time." Quickly, she added, "As long as you were alright with allowing me the 'yellow' and 'red'
courtesy."

He seemed rather awake when his gravelly voice whispered, "I'd insist."

That was how Hermione Granger ended up on Draco Malfoy's bed that afternoon — blindfolded on
her elbows and knees, a silk scarf binding her wrists, and something called a "spreader bar" holding
her ankles apart by at least two feet.

So far, things were going splendidly.

She'd learned the previous evening that there was something magnificent about waiting and
allowing Malfoy to tease her for hours, but Saturday afternoon really took the cake.

He'd pulled her to the edge of the bed, her arse in the air facing him as he cast a spell to drag the
silk scarf that tied her wrists in the opposite direction. Slowly, her spine stretched until she was
barely holding herself up between her knees and elbows. Even without a blindfold on, she wouldn't
have been able to see anything, her face turned into her arm and her hair falling around her.

Malfoy spent what felt like hours avoiding her cunt. The closest he came was a feather passing over
her folds as he trailed it across every inch of her skin. He used it on the backs of her feet, and
across her ribs, making her muscles tighten. With her ankles spread wide, there was nothing she
could do but squirm.

He alternated ice and his hot breath across her skin, focusing on the base of her spine and the back
of her thighs. He spoke to her once, saying, "I'd like to kiss your thighs, Granger. Your arse. I
would keep my mouth away from your cunt, if you gave me permission."

She gasped air in, hardly thinking it over before saying, "Alright."

The first press of his mouth to the back of her knee had her trembling. He took advantage of her
spread thighs to press himself close, sucking a bruise into her inner thigh. He repeated with the
other, and Hermione almost begged him to give her relief. But only his lips, tongue, and teeth
touched her skin as he kissed the backs of her thighs. He kissed her backside over and over, sucking
and using his teeth. Finally — finally — he pressed his thumbs to the places where her backside
met each of her thighs, achingly close to her core, and whispered, "Can I kiss you here?"

She thought about how close he'd be to her cunt, how badly she needed him to touch her there. But
what if it was too close? What if he could smell her and didn't like it? After half a second of
consideration, she told him yes.

His mouth closed over the skin and kissed and sucked and bit. She felt every movement in her core.
It was as if—as if he was placing his mouth there. She grew more and more wet, whining into the
mattress. He switched thighs, keeping his distance from her center, but she almost didn't want him
to. He kept kissing her skin like he was feasting on a meal. The pressure inside of her twisted, and
she wondered if she could come like this.

With a soft kiss to her backside, he stopped. She panted heavy breaths into her elbow, groaning at
the loss.
She heard him moving around the room, and tried to track his movements. He was over at his
wardrobe, rifling through a drawer.

"Granger, I'm going to spread you wider. Can you take that?"

Her chest shook, but she answered, "Yes."

He came back to the foot of the bed, and with a flick, the bar attached to the cuffs around her ankles
lengthened. She gasped. It was at least another foot, she thought. Her knees shifted, widening to
accommodate.

"Good girl. A little wider."

Once she was settled, he placed his hand lightly on her backside. She felt the scarf around her
wrists pull toward the head of the bed just a few inches further.

"Is that alright?"

"Yes."

He rewarded her by passing his fingers over her cunt. She moaned as he spread her open for him,
swirling downward to just barely touch her clit.

"I need you to do something for me, Granger."

She nodded against the bed. "Yes."

"I need you…" Something pressed at her entrance — she hoped for a moment it was his length, but
as it slid inside of her she realized it was a toy, much less thick. "...to take care of this for me."

Her muscles accommodated. It was a dildo maybe.

"Alright," she replied, waiting.

"And I'll be back in a bit," he said.

Her breath whooshed out of her. "You're leaving?" she said, a note of worry in her tone.

"Just for a bit. You're good at waiting, aren't you?"

She thought about her arms, growing tired. Her cunt, aching. As she hesitated to respond, Malfoy
moved around the bed to her face. He pushed her hair back from her cheek.

"You have your magic if you'd like to stop. The scarves will untie and the cuffs will unlock with a
wandless charm."

Though she couldn't see him, she felt as he lowered closer to her. He pressed a firm kiss to her
mouth, and pulled away before she could kiss him back. She listened to his footsteps, and the soft
close of the door.

Hermione breathed deeply. She could do this. She could wait for him.
She shifted her hips, trying to get used to the new width of her knees. The dildo shifted as well. It
was a smaller shape, not particularly ridged. She couldn't get off with it unless someone was there
using it on her. And she didn't particularly want to. There were fantastic results when she waited.

Attempting to relax her muscles, Hermione moved her spine, trying to roll her shoulders.

That's when she felt it. Something inside of her. Some small… movement.

Was it buzzing?

The dildo was vibrating. She gasped when she realized — he was probably controlling it.

It wasn't enough to really be pleasurable. But it was still a low hum that warmed her insides. She
tried squeezing her muscles experimentally, and that made it better.

She resigned herself to stay still, refraining from attempts to get off. He hadn't given her
permission. He'd only asked her to "take care of it."

Starting to recite potion ingredients in her head, Hermione began her long wait. After what might
have been five minutes, she thought she felt the vibration intensify.

Well, this was… this was a bit better, wasn't it?

She thought she'd wait patiently still and see what happened after another five minutes. And sure
enough, the buzzing got louder, and the toy began going faster.

Hermione pressed her lips together. If her knees weren't spread, she could absolutely have pressed
her thighs together and found some relief. She tried shifting her hips around, but no luck. She
waited, hoping there was another level.

There were four more levels.

She was shaking, trying to hold herself up on her knees, when all she wanted to do was close them.
The toy was vibrating her entire core, giving small relief to her clit. Hermione moaned, sighing
deeply, and trying to find something to do to change the position.

But after thirty minutes now of buzzing and shaking, the toy was starting to slip. She felt it start to
go faster and vibrate inside of her slick opening, moving slowly out. She clenched down all of her
muscles, focused on keeping it inside of her.

She tilted her hips, squeezing and praying. Her thighs were quivering under the pressure, and it felt
like her inner walls were clenched in pleasure, only she couldn't find the crest of it.

Unconsciously, her chest was moving against the sheets, her breasts trying to find stimulation. She
couldn't release her grip on the toy unless she wanted it to slip, so she just moaned and panted into
the sheets, waiting for Malfoy to come back.

Finally, the door opened. She let out a deep moan, hoping he'd spare her from this torture soon.

"What a pretty picture you make," Malfoy said, and she knew he meant arse up, knees spread wide.

"Malfoy, please. Please, it's too much."

"Don't like the toy? I thought perhaps you'd have come by now, Granger, but I knew you were
made of sterner stuff."

Suddenly the toy stopped buzzing. She sighed in relief. "Thank you. Please."

And then it came back with a vengeance. If before was level seven, this must now be fifteen. She
whined, gasping. Her spine curved. She felt his warm hand drop on her hip.

"Is that better?" he asked.

"More," she said. "I need more."

"That's unfortunately the highest setting, Granger," he said in a tone of mock-sorrow.

The toy turned off, and she let her muscles relax, gasping. The hand on her hip slipped over her
backside, palm filling with it.

The buzzing started again, at the highest level, and she bit down on the sheets. She felt him push
the toy deeper inside of her, and her toes curled even as her ankles fought against the cuffs.

"Need some help, Granger?" he said, tilting the toy and letting it buzz against a new place inside of
her. She saw white momentarily before he turned it off again.

Her breath shook out of her chest. "I need you."

"Hmm." The buzzing started again, and he pressed it against her front walls for only a second. Then
he pulled it halfway out of her and said, "Hold onto it."

It vibrated at level fifteen, threatening to slip from her. She clenched down, trying to keep it in
place. His hand left her backside, and then she felt the mattress dip near her head. He lifted her jaw
lightly, and his thumb pressed her mouth open. The head of his cock replaced it.

She eagerly complied, hoping that if she did well enough, he would reward her. Sucking softly on
the head of him, Hermione slipped her tongue over him. He was already fully hard, and she wanted
him to just take her. As she turned her attention on sucking him off at this angle, her muscles
started to lose their grip on the toy. She gasped, trying to press her thighs together.

"Focus, Granger."

She squeezed everything she could, and bobbed her mouth over him. His hand slid into her hair,
and she groaned. He was gentle with her mouth, and she just relaxed her jaw and let him fuck her.
She could hear his breathing grow heavy.

"Your cunt has been working awfully hard, hasn't it?"

She hummed, her tongue pressed to the bottom of his shaft.

"But your mouth is decadent. Which shall I reward with my come tonight, Granger?"

She whined, hoping to Merlin he wasn't serious. She needed him to fuck her.

"Maybe I'll just come down your throat and go to bed. I'm awfully tired."
A sob burst from her throat. She pulled her mouth off of him. "Please, no. Please."

"What's that?" he asked. "Does your cunt want my come?"

"Yes. Yes, god. Malfoy, please."

The toy was still buzzing inside of her, nowhere near enough to get off.

"Say it."

"My cunt…" she gasped. "My cunt needs it."

"Say it all."

"My cunt needs your come, Malfoy."

He disappeared from the bed, and she almost screamed with the loss. But then the toy was abruptly
pulled from her, and with only the warning of a hand on her hip, Malfoy thrust into her.

She howled, pushing her face into the sheets. After the longest time of holding the toy inside of her,
all of her muscles were sore and used. She was tight, and he was so much larger than the toy.

"Fuck me," he muttered before driving into her again.

Hermione tried to relax her aching inner walls, but he was pounding into her at such a speed that
she could only hold onto the sheets. Her hips couldn't move. The spreader bar kept her wide open
for him, and she didn't have leverage with her arms to push herself back on him.

She just had to lay there and be used.

It was magnificent. She felt him thrusting eagerly, his fingers squeezing her hips. Finally, one hand
slipped around her waist, dipped low, and touched her clit only once.

She saw stars. Her body fractured into pieces without moving at all. She just shook and shook,
moaning into the mattress.

When she came back to herself, he was still fucking her, still that crazed pace.

"You like it like this, Granger? You like being taken like this?"

"Yes," she wheezed.

His pace slowed, and he seemed to catch his breath for a moment before she felt his hands slide
over her backside. "What about this?"

One of his thumbs swiped lightly over her arsehole. She gasped.

His hips kept pumping into her, but his thumbs were taking turns sliding down from the base of her
spine and circling her.

"What about this, Granger?" he repeated.

"I—I don't know."

"You'll tell me Yellow if it's too much," he commanded, and then with a wet smack from his mouth,
a moist thumb was starting a slow press into her.

Her eyes rolled back in shock, her jaw dropping open. Was it too much? She couldn't tell. It was a
lot, that's for sure. It was only a little bit but it was—

She was full.

Hermione keened, unable to speak. With his thumb pressed inside of her, Malfoy began to pick up
his pace again.

She came quickly, unable to account for the feeling of stretch and friction. When her muscles
tightened, and she felt like there was no room inside of her for anything else ever again, she
listened to the thick slap of Malfoy's hips against her backside.

"Fucking amazing. I knew it. Knew you could take it, sweet girl."

Her thighs quaked and her voice broke.

"Always knew you wanted it like this. Want me to fill every hole, don't you, Granger?"

He was saying absolutely lewd things, but her mind had turned off. Her body was being used so
deliciously and without stop, that she knew she could do nothing but enjoy it.

"Wanted to fuck your arse on McGonagall's desk," he said. "Would have let me, wouldn't you? Bet
you wanted my cock down your throat in the Great Hall."

Absolutely unhinged things were falling out of both of their mouths. He was fucking her so
roughly, and she was babbling her agreement to everything he said.

"Gonna ruin you for anyone else, Granger."

"Yes. Yes, god. You are."

"You're gonna think of me every time you come—"

"I will. I do. Please—"

"No one can give it to you like me," he said.

"No. Only you. Drac—"

He leaned over her, changing the angle, and she couldn't speak any longer. Only starbursts and
bright colors. Concertos inside of her head as she screamed.

She could feel his breath on her shoulder, his uneven rhythm giving him away. "Fuck, fuck—"

He bit down on her neck, not hard enough to draw blood but just enough. Hermione listened to the
synchronicity of their breathing, as they came down.

The minute he lifted up, she missed his warmth. The scarf slipped from her wrists, and his fingers
were quick on her ankles to unlock the cuffs. She dropped to one side, and before she could stretch
out her muscles, he swept her up in his arms. She could do nothing but comply.
The bath was drawn, the water perfectly warmed, and he stepped inside, still holding her.

He was still panting as he asked, "How are your muscles?"

She nodded against his shoulder in response. He leaned her back on him and as he worked a lather
into her skin, he worked the overused tension out of her arms and legs. She almost fell asleep
several times before realizing that was a terribly stupid thing to do in a tub.

Once their skin was wrinkly, and his arms were simply around her waist, Hermione reflected.

Several things were said, not least of which was his first name. Not "Malfoy." Not "Counselor." But
she'd almost said, "Draco."

And more than that, the terribly wicked things he tended to say during sex had been… a lot this
evening. And it hadn't been the first time he'd used language that made it seem like he… like he'd
thought about this before.

She cleared her throat.

"May I… May I ask something?"

He hummed behind her, and she felt it in her spine.

"You mentioned, er, certain fantasies, I suppose? Or… your pleasure at being proven right? And I
guess…" She cleared her throat again. "Have you thought about us? Before—before two weeks
ago?"

"Mm-hmm," he replied. As if that was all. As if it answered her question.

"Oh. So you… so you had a crush on me at Hogwarts?"

"Hmm." A different hum. A hum of consideration. "Not quite. I wanted to fuck you."

Hermione blinked at the vanity across from the tub, as if it would provide the answers for her. "Ah.
But you… So you wanted to dominate me? Sexually? In school?"

"No," he said simply. "I just wanted to fuck you. I discovered an affinity for Dominance later."

She still felt like maybe he wasn't hearing her. "So, you… you wanted to have sex with me. But you
had no feelings for me whatsoever."

"Right."

That seemed like a terribly convenient answer. Hermione pouted, trying to find an argument with
her excellent logic skills.

He continued, "They're two separate things to me."

Hermione stared at the walls, and nodded.

What she was hearing was — he didn't have to like her or enjoy her company to be doing what they
were doing.
 What a shame, she thought woefully, mentally tallying up how many days she had left in their
month.

Chapter End Notes

To keep up with my fandom and original projects, follow me on Twitter , TikTok , Instagram ,
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 Chapter 6
Chapter Notes

It's the moooost wonderful tiiiiime, of the yearrrrr.

AUTHOR. 🎉🎉
If you're still with me and haven't heard about it already, I'M GOING TO BE A PUBLISHED
My Cover Reveal is happening THIS WEEK and the cover artist is the
incomparable NIKTA JOBSON. If you want to hear about my Adult Romance book that
comes out next summer, please head to my socials! Follow me on Instagram , Twitter ,
Facebook , TikTok , , Tumblr , and join the Facebook group for Lovesbitca8 followers and the
Rights and Wrongs series called Rights & Wrongs .

Happiest of Birthdays to the Goodest Girl in the World, raven_maiden . Thank you to
Graendoll and monsterleadmehome for Beta'ing! Check those new tags if you need content
warnings, and enjoy!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

"Ow," Ginny said, lifting herself gingerly onto the bar stool. She winced. "Sorry, my arse is…
blue."

Hermione nodded in agreement. "I understand. My nipples are finally back to the right color."

"Oo, I love nipple clamps." Ginny waved down their bartender. It was a Tuesday evening, but it
was the only time the two of them had for their weekly drinks and conversation. Hermione had
been spending every evening with Malfoy, and from what she'd gathered, Ginny had been doing the
same with Zabini.

"I can't believe we're talking about this," Ginny said. "Me and Hermione Granger are talking about
sore bottoms and bruised nipples. Because me and Hermione Granger are having kinky sex!"

The older man next to them turned over his shoulder. Hermione flushed, still far less comfortable
with the whole thing than Ginny was.

"It is strange, isn't it?" Hermione hummed over the top of her drink. "If you'd told me just a month
ago that I'd have a box of cuffs, clamps, and dildos in my closet—sent to me by Draco Malfoy, so
we would have them for when he stops in!—I never would have believed you."

"Just wait for him to demand that you convert your second bedroom into a sex room," Ginny said,
shaking her head. "Blaise was very pleased. Oh, but— You won't have to worry about that, I
suppose. When is your month over with Malfoy?"

Something sharp sliced Hermione's ribs. "Eleven days," she replied, staring down into her glass of
wine.

She was trying not to dwell on it. Malfoy hadn't said anything about it either, so she had no idea
how he usually ended things. Was there a lovely last evening together? Did things just suddenly
stop? Would they have to go back to normal, pretending they hadn't done unspeakable things to
each other? And the question truly nagging her: would it truly be never again? Could she ever send
him an owl with a request for an evening together if she needed it? Because she wasn't above
saying she needed it. Not anymore. He had broken down those walls rather successfully.

But then that thought sent her in a spiral, wondering if other subs had asked for something similar.
And had he agreed while seeing her this past month? She didn't like that. She hadn't assumed she'd
needed to ask him if they were exclusive because it was a monthly arrangement.

"Will you continue once the month is up? With submission, I mean," Ginny said, interrupting her
thoughts.

Hermione pressed her lips together. "I don't know. I like it. But do I like it because it's Malfoy?" she
said thoughtfully.

"Hm, I've asked myself the same thing about Blaise," Ginny said, and Hermione couldn't help but
notice that she used his given name. "Ron asked me who you were dating."

"Oh? He was quite unreasonable the last time I saw him."

"It took everything in me to keep from telling him it was Draco Malfoy." Ginny snorted. "Merlin,
that would have been bloody good."

Hermione cleared her throat. "So, Zabini doesn't have a time limit on his relationship with you?
You've been seeing each other for how long?"

"Hmm. On and off for about four months."

Hermione's eyes widened. "Oh. I hadn't realized it had been that long. You were very secretive."

"Well, we were toying with each other for the first two months. Just casual sex. Then he started
introducing toys and bondage into the evening, and we just… arrived here, I guess."

Pushing her hair over her shoulder, Hermione considered her next question carefully. "And what do
you think Zabini wants? Is it still casual if it's been going on for so long?"

"Oh, no," Ginny said, gulping her martini. "He's told me many times he wants to escalate."

Hermione blinked. "'Escalate.' What does that mean?" She had a sudden image of Ginny wearing a
leather wedding dress, led down the aisle by a chain attached to a choker.

Ginny gestured for another drink. "Your guess is as good as mine. He wants me to meet his mother.
Terrifying, isn't it?"

"Oh. And you aren't interested in… escalating?"

"No, I suppose I am. I just like telling him no." She flashed a devilish grin at her.

They enjoyed their drinks for another hour, catching up on work and gossip until it was time for
each of them to meet their respective Slytherins.

~*~
Butt plugs were… different. Hermione wasn't quite sure she liked them much. They must be for
Malfoy's benefit in some way, because this surely wasn't for hers.

Last night, Malfoy had bent her over his dining room table, fucked her senseless, and told her he'd
be taking her ass that weekend. While she was cleaning the drool from the corner of her mouth,
she'd asked him to clarify.

"You'll wear a plug for the next few days, stretching you for me," he'd said.

"Ah," she'd replied, as if that answered it.

When she'd arrived home, a collection of different sized butt plugs were waiting for her, along with
lubrication and instructions.

Now, Hermione sat in her office chair, leg bouncing, thinking about how the Minister of Magic had
just had a meeting with someone wearing a plug in their arse.

The problem was that every time she thought about it, she thought about Malfoy. And by the end of
lunch, she was feeling rather desperate for him.

He'd given her an enchanted piece of parchment that was linked to a twin parchment in his office,
so they could write messages to each other. (Hermione had to bite her tongue to keep from telling
him that the Muggles had a far more advanced way of doing this with something called a cellular
phone, as she knew he wouldn't find it interesting in the least.) She picked up her quill and wrote:

Are you alone?

The ink soaked into the parchment and disappeared.

It wouldn't be the first time she'd visited him in his office for a bit of fun. Since the spanking
incident two weeks ago, she had spent several lunch hours on her knees or naked across his desk.

His reply back read, No.

She huffed. She was sure he hadn't meant to be short. Surely, if he had company in his office, then
scratching out that brief response was all he could do. Hermione cracked her neck and shuffled
through her files. She would have to wait until the end of the day. She knew how to wait.

Her fingers had just flipped open her notes when the enchanted parchment formed the words, Are
you?

She scrambled for her quill and replied that she was.

Have you ever gotten yourself off in your office, Granger?

She gasped, staring down at the ink as it vanished back into the parchment. Her eyes snapped to her
door. Closed, but not locked. Hermione puffed a laugh, shaking her head. No, she wouldn't be
doing that. After all, it wasn't a command. And he had made it clear she would never have to do
anything in her office, only his.

She swallowed slowly and wrote back, No.

The ink seeped into the page, and her heart pattered in her chest. She could hear co-workers
walking on the other side of her walls. It was the end of lunch, and anyone could come knocking at
any minute.

Lock the door and place your fingers on your clit.

She stared down at his elegant handwriting. She'd known it was coming. But seeing it there before
it vanished made her head spin.

She picked up her quill— to do what? Was she going to deny his request? It would be delicious
later if she did. She thought of Ginny and Zabini, how much they love to tease each other.

But when her quill met the page, she wrote, And then what?

She flicked her wand to lock the door, and settled back in her chair. Her legs spread under her desk,
and her fingertips danced up her thigh, tugging her skirt up as she waited for his next instructions.

Her mind ran through a few scenarios. A knock on the door, she'd stop immediately, and then call
out, Just a minute, while making herself presentable. And when whoever it was asked why her door
was locked, she'd claim a terrible headache—

Are you wearing the plug like a good girl?

She pressed her lips together, suddenly very aware of the plug.

Yes.

Good. Get yourself nice and wet. Then fill yourself up with your pretty fingers. I'll be there shortly.

Her breath caught. Thank Merlin. She needed him. And then—

Don't wait for me, Granger. I want a full report when I arrive.

She huffed. Damn him for being able to read her so well. With a deep breath, she closed her eyes
and slid her fingers beneath her knickers. She was already on her way to aroused, so she focused on
the feeling of her soft touches, wishing her fingers were rougher, thicker, calloused from Quidditch.

Her eyes fluttered open and she found ink disappearing from the parchment. Have you begun?

She scrambled to grip the quill with her left hand because her right was—busy—and wrote back a
quick yes.

Such a good girl.

Her nipples pulled tight. A shiver ran across her skin. She dipped her fingers down to her core, and
teased her entrance, just like he would. She was vaguely aware of voices on the other side of the
door, walking past and chatting, but she wasn't deterred. When she slipped one finger inside of
herself, she gasped. The plug made things very tight. She was surprised to find that one finger was
just fine by her.

The parchment to her right seeped with ink. I want you to get yourself off twice before I come over
there, Granger.
She gaped at the page. That wasn't fair at all. He knew she wasn't as adept as he was. She glared at
the page, grabbed the quill, and scratched out in poor left-handed writing, Then let me get to it. Stop
bothering me.

She dropped the quill and tilted her head back against her chair. Her left hand reached inside her
blouse and rubbed her breasts, trying to imagine it was his hand instead.

Shifting her knees open, she braced herself on the desk, and let her right hand take turns between
her clit and her entrance. It was nice. But it wasn't anywhere near what she needed.

She opened her eyes to check the parchment. Nothing. She wished she had a vibrator. If she
couldn't have Draco Malfoy, a vibrator would do.

She tried two fingers inside herself and squirmed deliciously, but it wasn't enough. Sighing, she
cleaned her hand and reached for the quill.

I need you. I can't get off without you.

She hoped a bit of flattery would help her here. When his reply came, she growled.

I want you as close as you can get before I leave my desk, Granger. Tell me when you're almost
there.

She could kill him. Hermione pressed her lips together and glared at her door, blessedly locked and
undisturbed.

Hermione shifted around, trying to find a different position, but nothing was more comfortable or
accessible. She decided to slow down, think of Malfoy, and hold onto that before starting again.

She thought of the first time she'd been on her knees for him. The way his cock had felt in her
mouth. The size of him. The way his eyes watched her. The way he hit the back of her throat and
was so pleased with her.

She thought of the first time he'd entered her and the stretch of it. The absolute madness she'd felt,
needing more of him but wishing for less.

And the bathtub. The way he let her ride him. The way he liked her on top, even if she didn't have
all the control in those moments—either tied or restricted in some way.

The filthy things he said to her, about wanting her, about how good she was, about forever.

Her fingers slipped inside of her again, and she searched and searched for the spot inside that he
always found so easily. She brought her other hand to her clit and finally felt herself tighten. She
coiled, back arching. Her fingers were being clamped inside of her, but it wasn't going to be
enough. She rubbed at her clit, trying to mimic the way he would.

When she was moaning, biting back whimpers, she reached for the quill and wrote, now please.

The thrill of knowing he was on his way sent a pulse through her. He wrote back—

Meet me at the door.

She groaned. She was dripping and tightly wound, and he wanted her to walk?
Pulling herself out of her chair, she shifted her knickers back up and moved on shaking legs to her
office door. Almost the second she reached it, a light knock sounded.

Without a worry in her mind that it could be anyone other than Malfoy, she unlocked and opened it.
His grey eyes met hers before he slipped inside. He'd barely shut the door behind him when she
rose up on her toes and pressed her mouth to his, groaning.

He hummed against her, and she heard the lock click.

"Please," she whispered. "Please. I'm no good at it myself—"

He spun her around, pushed her front against the door, and flipped her skirt up. "Well, here's your
problem, Granger." He snapped the elastic of her knickers. "These have to come off."

She breathed quickly, feeling her air hit the wood door. Her fingernails curled against the grain.
"Help me?"

She felt his hands round over her hips, tugging slowly on the lace covering her backside. She heard
a small gasp when he pulled them down, letting them drop to her ankles. Then she felt him touch
the jeweled plug—an emerald with a snake design.

"How do you like it?" His breath was warm against her ear.

"It's… strange."

He chuckled, and the sound shot straight to her core. She shifted on her feet.

"Please, Malfoy. I need to get off. Please get me off."

She felt him softly touching the jewel in her arse, and wondered if he even heard her.

"Do you know the wonderful thing about magical plugs?" he asked her.

She shook her head, wishing she could see his face to gauge his reactions. Then he tapped the jewel
and something strange happened. A pressure inside, like it was…

"Engorgio?" she asked, slightly panicked.

"Just a tad." He kissed the side of her neck. "How's that?"

She shifted. "Stranger, maybe."

He hummed against her skin, and his fingers began to wander around to her clit. "Did you get close
for me?"

"Yes."

"But not close enough?"

"No, not without you."

He ran his fingers through her folds, careful not to touch her where she needed it. "Mm-hm, I can
see that."
He tugged her hips backward, and she braced herself against the door.

"If you can't learn to follow instructions, Granger, then there will be repercussions."

Her voice was small when she answered, "But I did my best—"

A swift slap to her backside. She cried out. The plug made things… quite different. Tense.

He leaned forward and whispered in her ear, "You'll have to be quiet, Granger. I've locked the door
but I haven't silenced it."

She gasped, eyes popping wide. She thought of all the people on the other side of her door. The
people who'd seen Malfoy enter not five minutes ago.

Another smack to her other cheek had Hermione up on her toes, biting down on her tongue to keep
from making sound.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I just wanted you."

"I know," he said lightly, from further away, like he was leaning back to examine her backside.
"You said all the right pretty words to get me to cancel my afternoon meetings."

"Oh. I didn't—I didn't mean for that. I just…"

He was rubbing his hands over her cheeks, filling his palms with them. His thumb pressed against
the jeweled plug, and she was suddenly aware again of what it felt like to be filled up by it. She let
out a soft groan.

"You didn't want to get yourself off, Granger, so now I'll be doing that. How I see fit."

She swallowed. "Please silence the door. Please, Malfoy—"

His hand swung down on her backside again, and once more. She yelped and turned her head to
bite her knuckles.

"No," was all he said.

She breathed quickly, feeling the familiar rush of arousal. And before she could brace for the next
swing of his hand, she heard his trouser buttons popping open.

Panic mixed with pleasure as she prepared herself to be wonderfully fucked, while focusing on
stopping any sounds threatening to leave her throat.

"You said you needed me?" he asked. She nodded. "Well then…"

And then his hands spread her thighs open wider, and she felt his cock nudging her cunt. A moan
poured out of her, soft and pleading. And it wasn't until he pressed inside that she realized the plug
was taking up an awful amount of space—

"Oh!" Her eyes popped open. Her hips shifted away. "Oh my—"

"No, no." He grabbed her waist and held her still. "You said you needed me, didn't you?"
He pushed in, slowly, slowly. Her knees started to shake. He wasn't going to fit. Her mouth was
dropped open, silent and tense.

"You needed this," he whispered, and she had barely enough sense to note how strained he
sounded.

"Malfoy…"

He held her still, pushing in more and more. Her thighs tightened. She felt the pressure spinning
inside of her. He wasn't fully inside, but he stopped. She felt him breathing harshly against her ear.

She waited for him to move, to start to thrust or to fill her up completely or to touch her clit. He
held still.

"Is this what you needed?"

"Yes," she breathed. "Yes, I—" Dropping her forehead to the door, she said, "Malfoy, I'm close. Just
a little more."

"Relax, Granger. I want you to feel all of it. And when you're almost there, you fuck yourself on
my cock. In your office. With your colleagues walking on the other side of this door."

She choked back a moan. Her walls rippled.

"That's a good girl. Just like that. Relax and feel how good it is to be filled up."

Panting, she squeezed her eyes shut and tried to relax, but everything was so tight. So tense. So
close. If he would only touch her clit, she would burst.

She reached down to do it herself and he grabbed her hand. "Ah-ah." He placed it back on the door
and held her there, his hips shifting to do so. She held a squeal behind her teeth.

Her hips started rolling in tiny waves, searching for more. She pushed back against him, feeling his
cock slide deeper, pressing against the pressure from the plug.

"Fuck," she muttered. "Oh wow."

She could hear him breathing heavily. And then he placed his hand lightly on her low back, forcing
her spine to bend. And it shifted everything inside of her.

White light burst behind her eyelids. She heard herself mumbling. Her hips started rocking. She
was almost there.

His hands were suddenly on her hips, holding her still, and she felt her cunt squeezing and
clamping down. There was no space inside of her. Her orgasm felt tight and tense and unable to go
anywhere.

She heard herself groaning, and she bit back her sound. But behind her, Malfoy was panting
roughly, his hips rolling against her.

Her release wasn't done. She reached down and found her clit while Malfoy was distracted trying to
fuck her with no space. As soon as she rubbed herself a cry broke from her throat, and she knew it
was audible from the other side of her door, but she didn't care anymore.
A small seed of a thought planted in her heart as she squeezed him, listening to him curse quietly: if
the whole office knew about them, maybe he'd take her on for another month. For another year.
Maybe he'd like everyone to know he had her.

She bit down on her fingers and let the pleasure wash over her like a waterfall. He was thrusting
behind her like he wasn't done yet, and she just let him make as much noise as he'd like.

"Granger," he moaned. "Your cunt is perfect."

She smiled and listened as he finished.

~*~

When Hermione left her office for the first time that afternoon, no one was gossiping behind their
hands or watching her under shaded eyes. She was definitely nervous that they'd been discovered,
but she could at least deal with that tomorrow.

Especially because Malfoy had taken her knickers. And she was bare under her skirt—except for a
jeweled butt plug.

The next day, she'd told Malfoy she couldn't meet after work. Her mother was coming into London
for an appointment, and they'd be getting dinner together. She hadn't seen her mother since
Christmas, so she was thrilled to be spending time with her, even if there was a part of her that
knew she only had nine days left with Malfoy.

Her mother knocked on her door just as Hermione was getting out of the shower. She greeted her in
a towel. "Mum! Why must you be fifteen minutes early all the time?"

Her mother's arms were warm and cinnamon-scented as they held each other, and Hermione sank
into them.

"Well, I can wait, of course! There's nothing wrong with being a bit early—"

"Except when your daughter is in a towel," Hermione grumbled. She invited her mother to put the
kettle on while she got ready in the bathroom. Hermione was glad she'd already done a spell for the
love bites on her neck earlier that day. The towel left little to the imagination.

"Goodness, it's chilly out, isn't it?" her mother called from the living room as Hermione slipped into
her clothes. "My teeth are nearly chattering."

"Would you like me to do a warming charm for you?" Hermione asked.

"No bother," her mother said, appearing in the bathroom doorway. Hermione grimaced a bit,
remembering how they'd argued several holidays ago when Hermione was using magic for simple
things like heating the kettle or turning on the lights. "Can I borrow something?"

"Of course." She smiled at her mother, and once she was gone from the doorway, used magic to dry
her hair.

She checked all of her love bites in the mirror, spritzed a bit of perfume, and went to the front door
to slip on her shoes, all before realizing where her mother was.

In her bedroom.
In her closet.

Where Hermione's handcuffs, dildos, nipple clamps, and ropes lived.

There was a clicking in her brain, like gears failing to turn. Perhaps it was what people heard right
before they died. Hermione stumbled in one shoe toward her bedroom. "Oh, Mum? Um…"

Her mother was just leaving the bedroom, slipping a cardigan on with a tight smile. "Yes?"

Hermione swallowed. "Well, I… I just need a scarf and I'll be ready!" Her voice was too bright.
Too cheery.

She moved past her mother, straight for the closet door. Pulling it open, she prayed something had
magically fallen onto the box of sex toys. Perhaps a jacket had broken a hanger and dropped?

But there it was. Clear as day. Sex. Your daughter is having sex. And not just sex. Your daughter is
having kinky sex.

Hermione grabbed a random scarf that clashed terribly with her jumper, and saw, to her dismay,
that the nipple clamps were definitely not where she'd left them. Meaning her mother had not only
seen the box. She had been curious enough to disturb it. She could pray her mother didn't know
what purpose nipple clamps had, but she could probably guess what the leather cuffs and dildos
did.

Hermione left her bedroom in a daze, finding her mother staring at the wall with a blank
expression. She jumped a little and smiled at Hermione. "Shall we?"

She didn't trust her voice. She nodded jerkily.

To her mother's credit, she didn't say anything until the wine was delivered to the table.

"So. Are you seeing anyone?"

Hermione took a huge glug from her glass. She'd thought about this on the tube over. There was
only one way to do this, lest her mother think she was running some kind of Dominatrix boutique
out of her bedroom.

"Yes," she said. "There is someone."

Her mother grinned. "That's lovely." Hermione hoped that would be the end of it, so she had just
taken another swig of wine when her mother said, "And the sex is all consensual?"

Hermione coughed, eyes watering. "Mum."

"I just mean. I saw the box, 'Mione, and there's nothing wrong with that bit of fun! Believe me!
Your father and I have definitely—"

"MUM!"

"I am only saying," her mother said, raising her hands for peace, "that you have to be careful
about safety and communication—"
"Everything is well-communicated. I—I consent. And we are… everything is as it should be,
Mum."

Her mother smiled widely. "That's wonderful. You know, your father and I have strived to be very
open about sex with you."

"Yes, I remember," Hermione muttered, thinking of how she was given The Talk the day before the
Hogwarts Express picked her up for the first time. Her parents hadn't wanted her going off to a
boarding school without having all the facts.

"So," her mum continued, "you can be open with me if you'd like." She leaned forward with a
conspiratorial smile. "Is it someone we know?"

"Uh, no." Hermione shook her head, panic starting to sink in. "Not at all."

"Oh good," her mother said, sipping her wine. "I was afraid Ronald had talked you into something
he would be terrible at—"

"Jesus Christ, Mum—"

"But that's wonderful. Is he from the office?"

Hermione's throat was tight. She didn't feel like she was getting enough oxygen to her brain.
"He's… yes. He's from the Ministry. But I've known him… I mean…"

"Oh, from school?"

She nodded, signaling to the waiter that they'd need another bottle.

"What's his name?"

Hermione struggled to think of someone—anyone—who her mother would know very little about.
Anthony Goldstein, Colin Creevy, Terry Boot—

"Michael. Michael Corner."

"Michael. How lovely," her mother said. "And he was in Gryffindor?"

"Ravenclaw." Hermione fanned her face. She was having a stroke.

"Well, I'm glad you're seeing someone, especially someone you have history with." Her mother
smiled at the waiter as he opened the second bottle. "We should have the two of you up to the house
for dinner. Sunday?"

The waiter glanced at Hermione when she didn't respond. She couldn't feel her feet.

Would she now tell her mother that the man Dominating her in the bedroom was, in fact, not her
boyfriend? Would she imply that the bondage she'd been partaking in was of a casual nature? To
her mother?

"Sunday is… Sunday is free."

Her mother clapped her hands in joy and told the waiter to leave the bottle.
 ~*~

There were plenty of ways to get out of it, Hermione knew. Perhaps "Michael Corner" was ill that
night. Perhaps they'd ended their relationship the day before. Perhaps he'd fallen into the Thames
and was eaten by a prehistoric creature only just discovered and Hermione was now leading the
investigation into it.

But on Saturday, when Hermione arrived at Malfoy's for her first anal sex experience, she walked
straight into his dining room, pointed her wand at the kettle on his sideboard, and said, "I've made a
mistake and I need you to have dinner with my parents tomorrow night. I've told them your name is
Michael Corner, Ravenclaw from our year, and you do still work at the Ministry but they won't
know the difference so please, before we have anal sex, can we get our stories straight for
tomorrow?"

She said all of this with her back to him. The kettle whistled, and she grabbed the teacups.

He hadn't responded by the time she poured his cuppa and turned to hand it to him. His eyes were
narrowed at her, but they were inquisitive, not upset.

"Michael. Corner."

She waved her hand, stuttering, "I panicked. I—I had no idea what to say. She found my sex toys
and I told her I was seeing someone so my own mother wouldn't think I was trollop, but I suppose
that was unnecessary because she told me some things about her and my father I wish I hadn't
known and—"

"Alright."

She spun to him. "Alright? Alright, we'll go to my parents' tomorrow night?"

He nodded slowly and brought his lips to the teacup. She felt her chest unwind. "I have a condition,
though," he said.

Her chest wound right back up. "Yes?"

"Don't wince at me, Granger," he said with a grin. "You can decline, and I'll help you find an actor
to play Michael Corner tomorrow."

She chewed on the inside of her cheek. "What do you want?"

He took another leisurely sip from his cup, then placed it on the sideboard. He slipped his hands in
his trouser pockets and said, "Will you tell me what it was about your last experience with oral sex
that made you dislike it so?"

She blinked at him. That was entirely unexpected. "Oh." Stalling, she brought her teacup to her lips
and drank deeply. She realized he was not asking to perform oral sex on her in order for him to
agree to the deal. He was asking her to talk about it.

She wasn't quite sure which was more painful.

Taking her time, she placed the teacup on the sideboard near his and ran her finger over the rim of
it.
"I've done it three times. With three different men. I don't like it."

"Was it painful?" he asked. His voice was low, possibly concerned.

She snorted. "Not in that way." She thought of how she'd let Cormac finish rutting inside of her
before disappearing to the shower to cry.

She cleared her throat. "I think, perhaps, I might have an imbalance of some kind? The doctor
hasn't found anything, but the men didn't enjoy themselves and have—have told me as much. So,
it's not something I like to relive." She picked up her teacup again, for lack of anything to do with
her hands. "One of them told me I probably should clean up a bit next time, before coming over.
And I had already, so…"

She might have been talking to no one, for how quiet Malfoy had been. The only indication he was
still there came a moment later, when she heard his neck crack.

"May I ask one more question, Granger?"

She nodded, unable to look at him.

"Was any of it physically pleasurable, outside of the commentary?"

"Hmm. I suppose the one of them that kept at it the longest was making some progress." Seamus
hadn't actually told her anything was wrong, just that he didn't particularly like the act itself. So she
let him off the hook after five minutes.

Malfoy shifted to lean his hip on the sideboard. "Thank you for explaining. While I won't be asking
to taste you, I would like you to know that I've become well-acquainted with your cunt over the
past three weeks, Granger, and I have found nothing I don't like about it."

A laugh puffed out of her. He stepped forward and pressed his lips to her temple. A warmth spread
through her, followed by something almost sad. She thought she could maybe ask about what
happened at the end of the month, since they were having a conversation, but then he tilted her face
upwards and parted her lips with his tongue. One of his hands dropped to her hip and brought her
close.

She kissed him back, slow and methodically. When he pulled away, he whispered, "I'd understand
if you weren't in the mood to continue tonight. I will come to your parents' tomorrow regardless."

She shook her head. "No, I want to." Pushing up to her toes, she wrapped her arms around his
shoulders and kissed him deeply. His hands slipped over her body, squeezing her waist, her hip, her
breast. Then he grabbed the backs of her thighs and lifted her, her legs crossing around his waist.

He carried her to the bedroom, and she was quite impressed that he could do so while his mouth
was attached to hers. When he dropped her on the bed, he started unbuttoning his robes. His eyes
were molten on her as she did the same.

She'd left in the last of the plugs, and she was rather stretched after almost a week of them. When
he flipped her onto her hands and knees on the bed, he said, "As it's your first time, we'll be very
gentle. You'll need to tell me when you'd like it rougher."

That made her bite down on her lip.

But he didn't take the plug out. He took off his trousers, and lined himself up to her cunt, pushing in
slowly.

She choked, gasping. The plug she was wearing was much bigger than the one she'd worn in her
office earlier in the week, and though he was going slowly, he pushed all the way inside. She lay
her head on the mattress and focused on her breathing.

"That's it, love," he whispered, rubbing his hands over her waist, her backside. "Take me so good."

She whimpered, completely filled. "God…"

He ran his hands up, under her body, and let his palms fill with her breasts before starting to rock
into her. It was so slow and gentle, she could hardly breathe with how good it felt to just let him fill
her.

His hands held her breasts, squeezing and plucking her nipples. His cock stayed inside of her as he
thrust, just letting her feel the fullness. His mouth dropped to her shoulder, kissing and humming
against her skin. When she started to squeeze him, he didn't stop, he didn't change his pace. She
came, screaming, and he continued to fuck her slowly.

"Good girl," he said. "Get me nice and wet. Gonna fill your arse up next. Gonna need to coat me in
you."

She quivered, her thighs shaking, her core pulsing. She felt herself grow wetter and wetter, doing
exactly as he asked. When she came a second time, she felt his stomach and legs tighten behind her,
and she knew he was holding back. His breath was shaking.

He flipped her over, and she was surprised to look him in the eye as he reached down and started to
pull the plug out of her. Her muscles relaxed, her eyes rolling back. He brought his cock to her core
and seemed to run himself through her.

"Relax, Granger. We're going nice and slow."

She nodded, and let him push her legs toward her chest. He whispered a lubricating spell.

The first press of his cock against her entrance was easy. Just like the plugs. But it was when he
kept pushing in, and then starting rocking inside of her that she realized this would be nothing like
wearing a plug all day.

"Oh my—"

She bit down on her tongue. He was right. He was going slow. But he was over her, watching her.
She got to watch his face as he pushed in. She got to see his eyelids flutter.

He reached up and slowly started to finger her nipples, sending little electric shocks down to her
core. She grabbed his arms to steady herself.

When he stood tall, and dragged her hips to the end of the bed, she groaned. "Hold yourself open
for me, Granger."

Wrapping her hands under her knees, she did as she was told. He slid back inside of her, even
deeper. Her eyes rolled back, and she started making sounds she couldn't describe.
She knew it wasn't enough. It was a different kind of pleasure, but she needed more in order to
come. But she was fine to just lay back and enjoy for a while.

And as soon as she decided that, he whispered, "Accio," and a toy flew to him. Her mouth dropped
open, body yearning for it.

He slid the dildo inside of her—much smaller than him—and turned on the vibrator that touched
her clit.

Her legs started to shake. She cursed, mumbling about nothing. He kept the vibration low, but it
was enough to rile her up. Her stomach muscles contracted, shaking. Her hips started moving of
their own accord. She started begging him.

He turned up the vibration, and sunk deeper into her arse before she tightened, leaving him no
room.

The slow, slow build to her release was maddening, but she got to watch him fuck her through it.
When she finally came, it was drawn out, loud and verbal. She moaned for him for what felt like
hours, and he just watched her, letting himself be squeezed by her arse.

When she was spent, he told her he was going to come inside of her arse, and she nodded, and said,
"You can be rougher."

He dragged her closer, bent over her, and fucked her, reaching down to rub her clit so she'd give
him one last tremor.

~*~

Despite the absolute bliss of the day before, Hermione was a bundle of nerves as she brought
Malfoy over to her parents' house.

"They don't know a thing about Michael Corner, so I think he can be a pureblood. That way you
don't have to know about Muggle things. Oh! And you were in Ravenclaw—"

"Yes, I know."

"And I probably never mentioned him ever, so we can just say… we met again at work and have
been hitting it off? I don't know, but we should probably agree on a story?"

They were walking up the drive, and she was trying not to focus on how Malfoy held her hand.

"Why is this so nerve wracking for you?" he asked softly. "Do you parents worry about your love
life?"

"Er, no. I wouldn't say 'worry.' But I would want my mother to think the person I was being tied up
by was in a substantial relationship with me." She brushed her hair over her shoulder, then brought
it back forward.

"I see," he said. There was an edge to his voice that she couldn't quite decipher. She didn't have
time to work it out, because they were at the door.

"So, we went to Hogwarts together, we met at work, you're a pureblood—"

 "Granger," he said. His face was calm and even. "Everything is going to be fine. You want your
parents to like the person you're seeing. That's why it can't be me."

She gaped at him. "What? I didn't… Well, no, that's not it. I just… They do know your name. It
would be a lot to explain, don't you think?"

"Probably," he said, shrugging.

Just then, the door swung open. Her mother and father were there in the doorway with lovely
smiles on their faces.

"Mum, Dad," she said. "I'd like you to meet—"

"Draco Malfoy," Malfoy said, reaching his hand forward for her father's. "Good to meet you, sir."

Her head snapped to him, and her stomach fell away.

Chapter End Notes

Next and final chapter publishes on February 14, 2023.

To keep up with my fandom and original projects, follow me on Instagram , Twitter ,

Facebook , TikTok , Tumblr , and join the Facebook group for Lovesbitca8 followers and the
Rights and Wrongs series called Rights & Wrongs .
 Chapter 7
Chapter Notes

It's so bittersweet that this is coming to a close. I didn't know 3 1/2 years ago that this would
be such a long journey (and neither did my betas, bless them), but I'm honored that you've
stuck with me!

If you want to know what's next for me, please check out my published novel, coming out July
2023! To learn more about my book and upcoming chances to meet me in person on book
tour, check my Instagram , Twitter , Facebook , TikTok , Tumblr , and join the Facebook
group for Lovesbitca8 followers and the Rights and Wrongs series called Rights & Wrongs . If
you meet me in person, code word is "Good Girl"
(justkiddingjustkiddingIwillPerishifyousaythattomeinperson) Pumpkin Soup, Socks,
Cornerstone Books or we'll make something up.

Thank you to Graendoll and monsterleadmehome for Beta'ing for an extra extra long time.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Hermione wasn't quite sure her head was attached to her body.

Her body was picking up a wine glass and sipping slowly. Her body was passing the vegetables to
her father. Her body was chuckling at the appropriate moments and offering commentary in others,
while her smile stayed pasted on, her hand in Malfoy's.

Her head was still on the porch of her parents' house, waiting to comprehend Malfoy's intentions as
he introduced himself.

"So, Hermione tells me you're both—dentisses? Is that right?"

She tried not to dwell on the "Hermione" from Malfoy's mouth, and just grinned politely at his
attempt. They'd discussed her parents a few weeks ago over dinner, and he'd listened attentively to
her describe what dentists do.

"Dentists, yes," Jean said, a pleased expression on her face. "We care for teeth."

"Fascinating," Malfoy said. "I think that's a profession that requires quite a bit of talent and
education, yes?"

"Indeed," her father said. "Well, education on my part, talent on my wife's."

Hermione's father was not easily charmed. He was very opinionated about the Prime Minister and
was not usually impressed by celebrity. Hermione had counted on him in those beginning moments
to be the one to see through Draco Malfoy's bullshit.

"So, Draco," her father changed topics with a broad grin, "you are the youngest counselor on the
Wizengamot in four centuries, is that right?"
Her father had simpered like a schoolgirl in the face of the Malfoy magnetism. Hermione drained
her wine. At least she was her father's daughter.

"I give him old Daily Prophets to help him keep up with the wizarding world," Hermione explained
under her breath.

Hermione still couldn't figure out Malfoy's game here. Would his pride not allow him to become
Michael Corner for just one dinner? Was he trying to punish her for something she'd done? That
seemed rather extreme. They'd come to understand each other rather well over the past several
weeks, so she didn't think he'd do something so psychological for a punishment. Overall, she was
just tired, and wanted to get ready for work in the morning.

"So," her mother began, once she was back from clearing the plates — plates that Malfoy had
offered to help with. "I have to ask." Her mother looked between the two of them. "Draco, I did
hear quite an earful about you when Hermione was in school. And not all of it pleasant."

Malfoy grinned. Hermione dissociated.

"I'm sure Hermione's version of events was the closest to the truth," he said smoothly. Malfoy took
Hermione's hand on the table and looked at her with a soft expression. "I wasn't kind. I was raised
in a bad way of thinking, and I…"

When he hesitated, Hermione blinked at him.

"I'm not sure I've properly apologized to her," he said softly.

Hermione stared into his eyes. Boy, if he was going for Boyfriend of the Year, he was well on his
way.

"But we met again as adults," he continued, turning his focus back on Hermione's mother. "And
something just clicked. I did fancy her a bit back at Hogwarts, I admit, but I didn't truly get to know
her until recently."

Hermione's hand felt cold in his. He'd told her he wanted to fuck her in school. It's not quite the
thing to tell someone's mother, she knew logically. But this seemed unfair to her parents to think
theirs was some lovely story of years of pining.

Not when there were less than seven days left.

Hermione couldn't take any more of his white lies, so she cut in. "And I knew you'd remember M—
Draco's name, so that's why I lied and told you my boyfriend was named Michael." Her palm
burned in his, so she added, "All the terrible things he did to me couldn't possibly be erased in your
mind, Mum. Surely."

His hand twitched.

"Well, after meeting him, I'd say it's getting foggy." Jean smiled broadly. "What about you,
Hermione? Do you forgive him for being a nasty piece of work as a child?"

Thanks, Mum. She swallowed. "Yes, I… I know that's not him anymore. We're quite different
people now. I like who he is now."
She glanced at Malfoy, and found his eyes on her. They were heated, but not so much so to make
things awkward in front of her parents.

After the wine was gone and the pudding cleared, Hermione made their excuses to leave.

"Draco, it was lovely to meet you," Jean Granger said, bringing Malfoy in for a hug. "We must
have you back again. We've been meaning to do weekly dinners with Hermione, but she's so busy."

Malfoy smirked. "I'd love that. We should be by again soon."

"Is next Sunday too early?" Jean laughed.

"Not in my books," Malfoy said, shaking her father's hand.

Hermione's smile was starting to drip so she ushered them out the door. The wind was picking up,
and she tucked her cloak around her closely. She made it down to the street before spinning around
to him.

"Why would you do that?" she asked, exasperation steaming out of her. "Why would you—play
a game like that with them?"

"A game?"

"Now what am I supposed to do? You made it seem like we were serious. Like I should be bringing
you by more often. So now, I have to make up some excuse to my parents next week why you're
not with me."

He frowned down at her, like he didn't understand how she could possibly be frustrated. "And I
won't be with you next week," he said, trying to finish her thoughts for her.

She did quick math in her head. Next Sunday would be day thirty-one of their month. She supposed
she should have discussed with him before now what the usual end-of-arrangement was but she
highly doubted it included a visit to the girl's parents' house.

Hermione shook her head and rubbed her brow. "Draco," she said softly, still unsure of how his
name fell over her lips. "Tell me what's going on. I don't understand what you want. We have one
more week, and you're perfectly fine with making my parents fall in love with you. You're perfectly
fine with creating this illusion that there is more than one week left." She glanced up at him,
finding his eyes completely inscrutable. "Tell me how the month ends, please. I don't even know
the exact date it ends. We started this thing on a Friday, but I didn't give you my annotated list until
the Monday and I…"

She watched him swallow, shift on his feet, and comfortably slip his hands into his pockets. When
he still said nothing, she barreled on.

"Just tell me how things end. Because the month is coming to a close, and I can't bring you to my
parents' next week if it's our last night together." She closed her lips tightly before the rest of it
could escape: it would be too hard for me.

"You signed on for a month," he said, and there was something about his tone that confused her—
the stilted syllables, the unnecessary order of the words.
She nodded, encouraging him to continue and tell her what she needed to know. But he only
nodded his head in return, and looked off over her shoulder. She watched the wind tangle through
his blond hair.

She felt like maybe she'd failed a test. But that couldn't possibly be right.

"I end things however my submissive agrees to end things. Either a scene they want to try, a nice
dinner, or sometimes an introduction to a friend of mine who could take them on next." He said it
all dispassionately. "If you'd prefer an introduction—"

"No," she said quickly. "I… no."

"Then please think on it, and let me know what you'd like to do Saturday evening on our last
night."

Our last night. Hermione heard it echo inside her head. She knew there were follow-up questions,
like does it have to be the last and would you consider me for another month in the future?

But he continued, asking, "Shall we go back to my flat?"

Sex felt like the last thing on her mind, but she also couldn't deny that she wanted as much time
with him as possible.

She extended her arm, and let him Apparate them to his neighborhood. When he let them into the
flat, she found herself looking around, memorizing things. He took her hand and led them to the
bedroom.

Hermione couldn't read his mood. He wasn't angry. He wasn't annoyed. And when he turned her
around to slip her zipper down and pressed kisses to the back of her neck, he seemed passive, but
not without passion.

She spun in his arms and pressed up to kiss him. His lips parted for her easily, and he lifted her off
her feet, holding her close as he walked them to the bed.

Once her dress was off, her shoes flung somewhere, he took his time, kissing up her thighs—
bypassing her core—and using his mouth on her ribs. Hermione stared at the decorative ceiling,
feeling oddly bereft.

They had a full week. She shouldn't be checking out so soon.

When he kissed over her breasts and up to her neck, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders
and sighed as he rocked into her.

Slowly, he twisted them, placing her on top and over his hips. He twitched his fingers, and her bra
came unsnapped, and her knickers ripped on the side, falling away.

"Take off my trousers," he said.

She shimmied down his body, unbuckling him and sliding his trousers off his legs as he stretched
his arms behind his head casually. If she had wondered if his heart was really in it, the bob of his
cock when his briefs came off told her otherwise. He was thick and hard for her.
When they were both naked, he didn't give her further instruction, so she did what felt natural.
Pushing her hair over her shoulder, she dipped her head and brought his cock to her mouth. He wet
his lips, watching her.

Her tongue slipped over him leisurely, taking her time. She watched him as he disappeared into her
mouth. She took him as deep as he would go, and his jaw went slack as he watched her. When she
hollowed her cheeks and sucked, his stomach tightened. She let him slip from her mouth and
dipped her head to kiss him at the base, letting her tongue flick over his balls.

"What do you want?" she asked, her voice throaty.

He considered her for a moment, and when he didn't answer, she let her tongue flit over the tip of
his cock. When she moved to take him into the back of her throat again, he flicked his wrist and
summed a green silk scarf to the bed. He nodded for her to come closer.

She straddled his waist, her bare cunt aching.

"Give me your wrists."

She brought her hands together, and he tied them, looking perfectly comfortable reclined back on
the pillows. Once her wrists were tied with the silk, he whispered a spell and the silk scarf slowly
stretched up to the ceiling. Her arms followed, passing her head, and extending to a comfortable
height above them.

Her heart fluttered and her core clenched. She was kneeling over him, tied to the ceiling. Malfoy
placed soft hands on her thighs, rubbing softly up to her waist and back. She held her breath,
hoping he wouldn't make this a waiting game.

"Widen your knees."

She glanced upward, where the silk scarf was magically holding her arms over her head. She
shifted, and was surprised to feel the scarf allow her to move a bit. With her knees wider, she was
lower, closer to his hips.

As if reading her mind, he reached between them and pushed his cock against her entrance. Her
eyes fluttered closed.

"Eyes open."

She did, and watched him as she lowered herself to take just the tip of him.

"Good girl," he said, and brought his arms behind his head again. "Go on."

Hermione felt the muscles in her inner thighs tremble as she lowered herself onto him. She watched
his face as she sank, taking every inch. Her mouth dropped open, and when her hips finally met his,
her arms felt like they would pull out of their sockets if she went any lower.

As she sat on him, letting her cunt get used to him, she tried to think what it would be like having
sex after this week was over. Would she even enjoy sex again after him? Would anyone ever again
know what she needed?

"Do you know what you look like, Granger?" he asked, his voice gravelly and so quiet she could
scarcely hear him over her panting breath.
She had a momentary fear that he'd say something juvenile, something he would have said to her at
Hogwarts. But as she waited patiently for him to answer himself, she knew that wasn't him
anymore.

"Like a goddess," he whispered. Her breath caught. His lips parted, and she watched his eyes dilate.
"Like one of those marble statues the Muggles like to pay money to see."

She swallowed, licking her lips. "I do?" She knew she was baiting him for more compliments, but
he was thick inside of her, and her hips wanted so badly to move.

"Mm-hm," he hummed. With his arms behind his head, he quite looked like one too. "Your breasts
are perfect handfuls, and your nipples are hard and just begging to be sucked on."

Her inner walls fluttered at the thought. She sighed pleasantly, and his lips twitched.

"Your waist looks like it was sculpted. Your ribs are wonderful stepladders. I want to dig my
fingers between them as I fuck you."

She felt a delightful chill pass over her skin, and she knew he saw her nipples get even tighter.

"And your hips." His eyes dipped. "A perfect place to hold on tight. To drag you backwards as I
fuck you. It's like the gods made you to be tugged backward onto a cock, do you know that,
Granger?"

Her cunt contracted. A small moan popped out of her throat. Her hips tried to shift over him.

"But even from this position," Malfoy continued, "I can take your hips in my hands, and put you
where I want you."

"Yes," she agreed, begging him to do it.

"And your thighs, Granger?" He lifted one pale brow.

"Yes?"

"They're made for a man to rest his head. For the hours he could spend between your legs, finally
coming up for air."

She shivered all over, about to ask him to please please do something to her.

"Your thighs look like they belong on either side of a cock. Like they were made for this. I think
you were made for this, Granger."

"Malfoy, please…"

"Like your thighs were designed to take a thick cock between them, isn't that right? I think you
know this, Granger. I think you know your body could sit on my cock every day for the rest of your
life—"

"Please—"

"You could save the world with your cunt open to me, with your thighs on either side of me. You
could fuck me while they made you Minister for Magic. You could write correspondence and make
speeches, all with my cock inside of your perfect cunt—"

Hermione trembled and broke. Her thighs shook violently as her cunt squeezed him, clamping
down. He was still talking, but she couldn't hear it all as her head fell back, letting her body sag
from her arms. She came back into herself as his hands dropped to her thighs. She moaned as he
ran his palms up to her hips.

"Goddess," he whispered. And then his thumb tapped her clit softly. She jerked, groaning.
"Goddess of Deviance."

She rested her head against her right arm, letting her eyes close as her jaw dropped open.

"Goddess Devine," he said, starting to rub her slowly.

His thumb circled her clit, and she panted as he built her up again. Her thighs were burning, and her
core was still spasming.

"You're a good girl, Granger," he hummed. "You're so good."

She groaned, trying to move her hips, trying to be fucked. She couldn't believe his patience.

"Say it," he said.

"I'm a good girl," she rasped.

"Say it to me."

Her eyes fluttered open and she looked into his eyes. His thumb was moving quickly over her, and
she felt herself starting to clench again.

"I'm your good girl," she said.

He dragged his bottom lip between his teeth, and she saw his eyes flash with something.

She started to crest, her mouth opening, her back bowing.

He shifted beneath her, and finally — finally — he moved his hips.

She came as he started to fuck her. She could do nothing but hang there with her thighs spread wide
and take his cock. His thumb continued on her clit, and his other hand held her hip. His thighs
pushed up against her and he pumped upwards, finding deeper places inside of her.

She was still coming. Her body was wound up like a snake around its prey, and she couldn't breathe
for several moments, her climax stealing all of her body's autonomy.

She was screaming when she finally got air. He brought both hands to her waist and started lifting
her against his hips, pummeling into her. Her body bounced and bounced, her moans bursting out
of her mouth with each movement.

When she could open her eyes to him again, he was sweating, pumping up into her, and watching
her closely as he finally came. He shuddered, gasping, and then collapsed back on the pillow again.
After a few moments of panting, he slowly allowed the green silk scarf to lower, releasing her
arms.

Despite the fact that she had work in the morning, she fell asleep immediately, curling herself into
him.

~*~

The next week went just like the ones before it. They went to work, they went home, and they
fucked spectacularly. Some days, she would visit him during work hours to get it out of her system,
but really, she knew it was because they didn't have many mid-day office quickies left.

She tried to think of what she wanted for their final night on Saturday, but every time she sat down
to consider, she couldn't bear thinking of the end.

You signed on for a month, he'd said, when she asked how this ended. It felt like he was maybe
reminding her — you signed up for this; you knew what you were getting into.

And she had known. It was going to be a month of great sex. She hadn't anticipated having feelings
for him.

They're two separate things to me, he'd said, when she asked if he'd had a crush on her when they
were young. He'd been rather clear that having sex with someone didn't mean he wanted more from
them. Despite all this, she couldn't get out of her head what he'd said at dinner with her parents.

I did fancy her a bit back at Hogwarts, I admit, but I didn't truly get to know her until recently.

Fancy her. How nice things would have been if that was true. But she knew it wasn't.

On Friday, she found herself sitting alone in her office, thinking of what she wanted tomorrow. Just
the night before, he'd had her tied in intricate knots on his living room floor, her arm tied to her
knee and her other hand stretched behind her back. She considered that she trusted him — more
than any other sexual partner. She considered that… there were things she would never have
experienced without him. Things she would never have thought she would have liked.

So when he asked her at dinner on Friday evening what she'd like to do the next evening, she
swallowed her sip of wine and said, "I thought maybe… we could renegotiate the… the oral sex
situation."

He tilted his head, as if he didn't quite understand. Like she was saying she didn't want to give oral
sex anymore.

"My… situation," she added.

His face relaxed, breathing deeply through his nose. "I see. You've been quite against it though."

She nodded. "I think… I think if I were to know that the person I was with had all the facts, and
that they allowed me to use Red and Yellow like you do… I think there's never going to be a more
comfortable time for me."

He didn't seem pleasantly surprised by the prospect of putting his mouth on her, and she realized
maybe he didn't really want to, despite how he'd talked about it before.
"And you're sure this is something you want to try. Not just because you know I want it?"

Well, that made her feel slightly better. "No. I would like to experience it. And I can't imagine
another partner making me feel more comfortable than you have."

And… a part of her had decided that if Draco Malfoy hated the way she tasted, then at least they
would be over after that. And he'd probably be enough of a gentleman to not mention it.

Malfoy nodded, scrutinizing her. "Alright. After dinner tomorrow?"

Nervous energy bubbled in her. "I'd like to have a bath actually. Before, I mean."

His lips twisted in something that looked like displeasure, but she didn't have a chance to discern it
before he said, "You don't have a tub. Bathe here. We'll have dinner, then you can spend as long as
you want in the bath."

She smiled in acceptance, knowing tomorrow would be full of challenges, but she was ready to
face them.

When Hermione arrived at Malfoy's flat for dinner, she was so glad she'd decided to do something
out of her comfort zone because that way she couldn't dwell on any of her sad thoughts about
endings.

Malfoy was subdued at dinner, but he kept his eyes on her the entire meal. Hermione filled the
silences with small conversations until halfway through the main course.

"Do you have another girl lined up?" she asked as lightly as she could possibly manage. She
punctuated the question with a wide grin.

Malfoy looked down at his plate. "No," he said. And then as an afterthought: "Not yet."

Her fingers shook as she reached for her glass. "And if you don't mind me asking, do you ever
cycle back to a submissive you've used before?"

His eyes flicked up to her, and he took a long time answering. "It's not something I've been known
to do, but I'm open to it."

She forced an easy smile on her face. "Good to know!" she said, a bit too brightly. "Perhaps I'll
check in with you in a y-year or so." She stuttered over the words, her throat closing at the thought
that she'd spend so long without him, while he moved on. That was a ridiculous idea. She shouldn't
wait around to be useful again. Her entire life couldn't be spent being submissive to him while she
wasn't even engaged with him. "That is," she amended, "if I happen to still be single."

She said it like a So there! Like he deserved to think of her moving on from him as well.

He just stared at her, dragging his fork through his meal.

She cleared her throat. "I think I'll start the bath, if you don't mind."

He stood when she stood, heartbreakingly gentlemanly.

She wandered to his bedroom. She closed the door of the bathroom behind her, and once she'd
slipped into the hot tub, she let the first tears fall.
Maybe she shouldn't have requested to try something new tonight. What if it was awful and the last
memories she had were sobbing in his bathtub and bad sex.

Hermione stayed in long enough to let her face calm and her body relax. When she emerged from
the bathroom with a robe wrapped around her and a pattering heartbeat, she found the bedroom
covered in lit candles. On every window ledge and hovering in the air. She gasped silently.

Malfoy stood at his window, looking out over the Muggle street below. He turned to her and
grinned.

"Thought you'd like something different. But if not I can vanish them."

"No, I think it's lovely." She turned in a circle and played with the tie of her robe. When she turned
back to him, he was sitting on the end of his bed.

"I want you to be as comfortable as possible, so I'd thought you'd be on your back. But there are
other positions where you'd have more control."

He sounded clinical. Almost like a doctor describing the act.

"And if you call Red or Yellow, that doesn't mean the night is over," he said. "We'll do something
else that we're positive you enjoy."

She nodded. He sounded a bit more like himself there.

Before she could change her mind, she slipped the robe off her shoulders to pool at her feet. His
eyes dropped to her body and darkened. Oh good. He was still attracted to her at least.

He stood from the bed and beckoned her closer. When she arrived in front of him he placed a firm
hand on her jaw and tilted her head back, kissing her deeply. It was dizzying. His other hand drifted
lightly over her waist, sliding up to her breast. His thumb brushed over her nipple as he delved into
her mouth.

He turned them around easily, and lifted her onto the bed. When their mouths broke apart, she felt
him breathing harshly over her face.

"Get comfortable."

Hermione swallowed, and tried to think of all the lovely things he'd done to her body that she
would never have presumed to have liked. She scooted up the mattress, and grabbed a pillow for
her head, all while keeping her knees pressed closed.

Malfoy stood at the end of the bed, and tugged his shirt off over his head. When he crawled up the
mattress alongside her, she wondered what his intention was as he kissed her on the mouth, letting
his tongue resume its progress from moments ago when they were standing.

His trousers were still on, but she reveled in the feeling of his bare chest against hers. Bringing her
arms around his neck, she clung to him, kissing him back with all the feeling she had inside. His
hand slid down between them and circled at her opening.

She was a bit anxious for the main event, but he seemed pleased to take his time, switching
between kissing her mouth or kissing her neck. When he finally moved below the collarbone, his
fingers running softly through her folds sought out her clit. His lips peppered small kisses over her
breasts while his fingers made similar teasing movements below.

"What are you supposed to say if you want me to stop?" he murmured, lips tickling her breast.

"Red," she said breathlessly.

"And if you need a pause?"

"Yellow."

Her eyes fluttered open to meet his gaze. Malfoy hovered over her chest, staring into her eyes as his
lips closed around her nipple. She hummed, and he sucked lightly. One finger slipped inside of her,
and she sighed lowly.

It seemed oral from Draco Malfoy came with its own foreplay.

His mouth moved to her other breast, sucking lightly. Then he released her and said, "I want to do
absolutely filthy things to you, Granger — especially to this cunt." He punctuated it by adding a
second finger inside of her. She mewled, and her knees rose up, opening herself. "But only if you
let me."

She nodded, licking her lips. "Yes."

"And if you like what I'm about to do, I won't be able to stop at just once. I'll need to taste you
dozens more times tonight."

Her breath caught. It was thrilling to hear him talk about wanting more of her. She hoped she would
enjoy this.

He lowered his head to her skin, grazed his teeth along her nipple, and smiled when she jumped.
Her heartbeat was hammering in her chest as he slowly dragged himself lower, coming to the floor
at the end of the bed.

He grabbed her hips and gently pulled her to him, his eyes on her core.

She didn't know why she was surprised when he didn't just— dive in. He bent her right leg, and
dropped kisses near her knees, sucking a soft path closer and closer to her center. Hermione's
fingernails began to scratch against the sheets in anticipation, but he just passed to the other side of
her, starting a path down to the left knee.

Hermione stared up at the ceiling, trying to slow her pulse. Malfoy started kissing back toward her
center, but decided to suck bruises into her inner thigh, just inches from where he was destined to
end up. Whatever he was doing, it was working her up quite a bit. She felt herself growing damp,
exposed.

She had her eyes squeezed shut when he finally lifted his head and ghosted a breath across her core.
She gasped and tried to shut her legs, but he was quicker than her. He held her knees open against
the bed, holding down her thighs.

But instead of feeling his mouth next, it was his fingers again, running through her, slowly entering
her.
There was something drugging about this long process, like— why worry, it will happen when it
happens.

His fingers were working over her, one hand circling her clit, the other dipping two fingers inside
of her, pressing lightly against the spot that usually made stars burst behind her eyes. She threw an
arm over her eyes, just allowing herself to feel the sensations. Her lips were parted and her breath
was coming sharply.

She could feel his air puffing over her cunt. She could tell how close his face was. And it was
comforting to know that he wasn't repulsed yet.

Suddenly his fingers began to pump quickly inside of her, and her thighs began to shake. She
groaned, her neck stretching.

If he was going to let her come like this, then she was going to take him up on it.

When she was almost there — almost ready to topple over the edge — she felt something else. She
jerked. It must have been his tongue. But not even that sensation could stop the climax she felt
building.

His tongue dragged from her entrance where his fingers were working quickly, upward to her clit.

She remembered this from others' attempts. It wasn't terrible but she didn't—

And then suddenly his mouth had replaced the fingers on her clit. Perhaps his lips? She could feel
his tongue for a moment and then—

"Oh!"

Her hands slammed down on either side of her waist. Her hips jerked. And she felt more than heard
him moan.

His lips were closed around her clit, sucking. His two fingers were still working her from the
inside, and the combination was lethal.

"Oh god—"

"That's it, Granger," he moaned into her. "You like this?"

He didn't wait for her answer. His tongue flicked quickly over her clit until her legs shook, trying to
close around his face. He got one of them pressed down to the mattress as he switched to suck
again.

She could hardly stand the sensation, and just before she asked him to slow down, he began
rubbing that spot inside of her.

Her legs kicked out, and she felt her body seize. The coil inside of her didn't unwind,
it snapped and she gasped and let loose a long, low moan. Her hips were jumping, trying to ride
him in some way.

She couldn't control any part of her body as it shuddered. Her hands shot to his head, holding him
to her cunt and shoving him away at the same time.
She knew the word Yellow was on her tongue, but what she was feeling wasn't awful. The opposite.
It was too much. Especially because he wouldn't let up, even though he must have known she was
coming. And coming. And coming.

She tugged at his hair, feeling the roots resist her. She let out one last defeated moan, and he slowly
came to a stop. Her legs trembled in response.

She let her eyes flutter open, and saw Draco Malfoy hovering over her, a smirk on his face that she
remembered from years ago… when he'd gotten to the Snitch first.

"Well?" he said, voice hoarse.

And Hermione realized that he'd fixed her — if she'd ever been broken at all. He'd pried open
places she hadn't thought anyone would ever want to fit inside, and he'd made himself at home. She
finally understood what her body was capable of — what her sexuality was capable of — what
she deserved from another person…

And it was over.

Tomorrow.

Her legs were still shaking. And her core was still throbbing.

And her eyes were wet.

She watched in slow motion as his brows drew together, as his head tilted.

And before he could ask, she opened her mouth and squeaked, "Please don't leave me."

Her face crumpled, and she slapped a hand over her eyes to hide the first tears dripping out the
sides. Her other hand rose to cover herself, and he gently took it.

"Granger."

She sobbed.

"Granger."

"I know. I know you only—only do a month. But do you have to?" Her eyes were squeezed shut as
he pulled her other hand away from her face, and she turned under him to press her face into the
mattress. "I'm sorry. You probably hear this all the time from submissives. I can only imagine the
wo-women who beg you to keep them for more than a month."

She felt his thumb under her eye, brushing her tears away. "Why are you crying?" he asked softly.

"Because I miss you already."

"And you don't want the month to end?" he asked, brushing her hair back from her face. "Tell me."

"I wish you wanted me for more than a month." She sniffled, getting control of her breathing again.
A flush burst on her cheeks as she realized she'd ruin it all by breaking down.

"And… how long do you want me to want you?"

She squeezed her eyes closed and more tears poured out. When she didn't respond, Malfoy asked,
"Who told you I only wanted you for a month?"

Her breath shook in her chest. She turned her head to him, knowing she looked like shit. She
checked his eyes to see if he was playing with her.

"You… You said—" She paused. "Ginny said you took on a new submissive every month. So I
knew I only had a month."

His eyes were almost blue when he said, "I never would have told you that you only had a month,
Granger. Not when I want to keep you forever."

Hermione felt something heavy lift off her chest. But the full weight remained, until she could be
certain.

"Forever?" she asked, her voice small.

"As long as you'll have me, Granger." He brushed the tears from her eyes again, just as she noticed
they were falling.

She couldn't be understanding him right. He never was going to stop at the end of the month? So he
truly would have gone with her to her parents' house tomorrow? And he truly would have started
off with them, lying about how he felt about her? Unless…

"You told my mother you fancied me at school," she said, accusingly.

"Well I wasn't going to tell her that I thought about twenty different ways to fuck you, now was I?"

"But you said that it's two different things to you — wanting to fuck someone and having feelings
for them."

"Yes, sometimes."

"And with me?" she asked, brushing her fingers over his clavicle.

"It's both, now. I feel both things."

Hermione's lip trembled as she pressed up and kissed him on the mouth. Malfoy— Draco, she
supposed, kissed her back and she tasted a tang on her tongue. She pulled back suddenly, realizing.

"Oh." She pressed her lips together. That was her. "It's… it's not too terrible, is it?"

Draco lips twitched slightly. He pushed her hair over her ear and whispered against her lips, "You
were never the terrible one."

She let him kiss her. She let him do plenty more than that, too.

~*~

The next day, Draco and Hermione showed up on her parents' doorstep for dinner. Hermione was
considerably more relaxed than the last time, and her mother commented on it when they were
washing dishes.
"I suppose I'm more at ease, yes," Hermione responded.

"I see," her mother said with a grin. "Yes, last week I was quite concerned about how tense you
were. I was wondering last week if he had you in some kind of edging scenario — that's one of
your father and my favorites—"

"MUM."

A week later, Hermione talked over with Draco how best to introduce the idea to her friends,
specifically Harry and Ron.

Draco offered plenty of unhelpful suggestions, including staging ways for Ron to walk in on them
— all of which Hermione shot down.

She decided to have drinks with them and break the news.

Unfortunately, that was the day that Ginny decided to go public about her relationship with Blaise
Zabini.

Ron was in a right state, moping and drinking and ranting. They were at the bar that she and Ginny
usually drank at on Friday nights, and Hermione was hoping Ron's behavior wouldn't get her
barred.

"Slytherin scum! And my sister!" Ron howled. "Mum will be so ashamed."

"I don't think it's all that bad, Ron," Harry tried.

"What are you talking about?! Harry, you should be just as upset. It should be you photographed
with her in the society pages!"

"Ginny and I weren't a fit. I told you so," Harry said, staring down into his glass.

Hermione ordered another martini and took a deep breath. "Ron, I need you to get your shit
together. Because I also have news."

"Oh bloody hell! Don't tell me you're shagging Malfoy!" Ron snorted.

When Hermione stared him down, not responding, Harry breathed in through his nose and said,
"Ah."

Ron watched her carefully as the bartender delivered her second drink. "What are you saying,
Hermione?"

"I haven't said a thing. You've done it for me," she said, sipping her drink.

"You're joking. You mean… You mean the bloke you were seeing a few weeks back was Malfoy?
The one—"

"Giving it to me 'good and proper'? Yes."

This was, in fact, one of Malfoy's requests if he wasn't allowed to be present for the reveal — that
she make sure Ron knew exactly who had been giving it to her when he and Harry stopped by three
weeks ago.
 "I don't understand," Ron said, though she was sure he did. "Fucking Merlin. First Ginny says she
likes it when Blaise Zabini beats her up, and now you—"

"Draco Malfoy has been tying me up, spanking me, choking me, or eating me out every night for
the past five weeks, Ronald," she said proudly. "Don't be such a prude about it."

Ron's eyelids seemed to have a mind of their own as they blinked repeatedly, as if trying to clear
the information from his head.

Hermione sipped her drink, feeling like possibly she wouldn't be getting through to him this
evening. But she didn't care.

She had Draco. And he wanted her for more than a little while. And he wanted every piece of her. It
was the most alive she'd felt in her entire life. They were going to declare their relationship to the
Ministry next week, to be sure they were on the up and up.

She was happy. Deliriously so.

"Harry," Ron said plaintively. "Please help me here."

Harry finished his drink in one swig and said, "Don't look at me. Pansy Parkinson has been tying
me up and pegging me for two years, Ron."

The table was quiet.

Ron was the first to speak. "You're insane. The lot of you."

"Oh, it's lovely Ron," Hermione said. "You really ought to try it."

"Daphne Greengrass is looking for a new sub, if you're interested in giving it a try, Ron."

"That's a lovely idea. You should Floo her, Ron."

Harry and Hermione clinked glasses and smiled at each other.

Chapter End Notes

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