3. Silent Screams
The sexual tension between Draco and I is horrifically unbearable. I'd rather reverse time and fight the Dark Lord all over again than give in to what I've been dreading since I first came to the realisation only last year.
Draco isn't a bad guy. He's just a broken boy who grew up in a loveless family, imprisoned by a doomed fate. But he's still an arsehole who doesn't deserve an ounce of my attention.
Damn him and his stone cold, infatuating good looks.
I'm at the library, punching out the books for the countless assignments I've decided to devote my extra time in, trying to resurrect a sense of normalcy in my life.
This is part of my coping mechanism. Whenever I have punishing or unholy thoughts of Draco and what I can only envision is his hot, burning groin, I plunge myself into an ocean of books, forcing myself into assignments that aren't due for another month just to medicare the unnerving angst of my raging, impulsive hormones.
How truly pathetic am I? I'm Hermione bloody Granger. I'm the girl that helped contribute to Voldemort's downfall. I'm the witch that brought peace back to the wizarding world. What I'm not is a frisky nymph who comes in her panties every time a pair of blazing and neurotic green eyes overcomes her mind.
I'm too good for that.l
Really? You orgasmed twice last night, envisioning a alternate reality where spanking was your guilty pleasure.
As quick as it comes, the blood chaotically swirls in my cheeks, and both of my hands are neither on my heavily written parchment anymore. One is clenched upon the chair, and the other is already slipping into my panties.
The strong, capable and diligent person I thought I was deranges into a completely unhinged, weak and crazed sex freak. My fingers quickly lose themselves into my hot, very moist and hot clit, and every taut muscle in me stiffens thickly.
I'm no longer shadowed away in the library and it's no longer a sunny, glistening afternoon. But I'm bent over his bed, with one hand cupping my dripping clit, and the other hand tethered into my arse's flesh as his thick, imposing cock slams in and out of me.
Lustrous bliss electrifies and zaps the hairs alive upon my neck. His lips draw themselves around my neck, and suctions them upon skin that is heavily layered by a sheen of sweat.
"You're such a good girl, aren't you, Granger?" His hot, minty breath radiates from my cochlear and perpetrates straight into my shaky thighs. "Letting me fuck you like the naughty, little witch you are."
He grinds his teeth into my ear, and hot, blazing pleasurable agony has never felt so blindingly good as he lands a slap upon one of my arse cheeks. A massive moan feels raw and dry, rippling into my vocal cords, dancing freely out of my mouth. "Yes, Draco. Harder. Fuck...just like that!!!"
I'm at the clasp of a very hot and powerful orgasm. It hardens the knots of pressure in my stomach, all the my entrance boils with thick, visceral moisture.
"Hmmmm studying nice there, Granger."
As quick as it erupted, one breach into reality and my euphoria quakes into the depths of nothingness. My orgasm falls comatose and so do my limbs.
I don't even have to ogle my eyes in the opposite direction to sense his frustrating presence. Aroma of masculinity and spicy peppermint fumigates in the air, asphyxiating my lungs till they're small, airless pebbles.
I feel suffocated yet embraced by his otherwordly scent. He makes me feel such a mess of contradictions that I don't know what I feel or think anymore.
As if it wasn't shameful enough I was touching myself publicly, I just had to give Malfoy undeserving satisfaction.
"What are you doing here?" I ask in an oddly deep and unnerved voice.
My heart caves into my stomach. Staring into his eyes would only be a disastrous mistake because when I picture them mentally, I end up drowning in pools of sexual arousal.
"I was just grabbing a book. Unlike I can say for yourself, Miss Studious." I can hear his vindictive, merciless yet very sexy smirk that is a master of manipulation.
Damn him.
"I can't deal with this right now." Quite hastily, I pack up my things. Hopefully, when I disappear into Arithmancy, all essence of Draco Malfoy will transfigure into dust.
Even when I eventually tilt my body in his direction, the floor is the only place I fully commit my eyes to. At least I know my stability won't disintegrate like shattered pieces of glass.
His intimidating, arctic silhouette idles in my way, and so does his spicy aroma. It's a musky wall of fog, even though it's not there, I have no strength to manoeuvre around it. "You didn;t say that when you were pleasuring yourself."
Do not commit. Do not commit. "Draco Malfoy, if you don't move out of my way right now, I will avada kedavra your bloody arse out of the way."
His essence is hell surfaced to life. He closes in on me, and I feel my skin moulding into plaster. "For someone who just orgasmed in the library, you're quite the uptight hothead."
In a forceful of instinct, my impenetrable rage breaks through his impermeable barriers. I aggressively shove him to the side, "I'm late for class."
I can't trust myself whenever his persistent arse is in the vicinity. My thoughts are his puppet; he feeds off my helplessness knowing that I'm always on the edge of self destruction.
I can't be that girl anymore. As I addressed before, I am Hermione Granger - brightest witch of her age, the girl who helped end the darkest and greatest Wizard of all time.
"Come on Granger, I was just teasing," he deadpans nonchalantly. I deviate my eyes to the hall of students busily scampering off to class. Unfortunately, ashen blonde hair strikes wildly in my peripheral vision, and I nearly decompose right there. "I actually find it hot when you masturbate."
Oh Merlin's Beard.
"That's nice. While I skip off to class, why don't you go and do it now?"
I need him to leave me alone. I'm already flush enough that Draco caught me at such a personal, horrendously intimate moment. Sis, that's your fault. Who told you to start touching yourself in the library?
Draco Malfoy is the pinnacle of my flaws.
Because he's such a stubborn, foul evil little cockroach, he clings to my side. His presence scorches my neck hairs, and if my legs weren't already cantering down the hallway, I would have already been halfway to the ground by now. "Who says that I wasn't touching myself this morning? Or last night for that matter?" He voices in a hushed, yet rugged whisper.
I hate that his voice is one of the most sexiest and arousing sounds I have ever heard.
At this point, I have broken from my fast, unsteady stupor and now have succumbed to a wobbly walk. Closing my eyes, a quick yet detailed glimpse of a Draco Malfoy pumping his cock at the mere thought of me blinding his mind petrifies my bones with such ferocity I feel the fingers of reality gently easing from my shoulders.
Stand your ground, Hermione. Show him who's the stronger person.
My muggle reflexes fire into practice: I yank hold of Draco's robes and as roughly as possible, haul his back into the nearest standing wall. A silvery flash of shock rattles the eyes that are always so cool and nonchalant; my subconscious smirks powerfully. "Listen here Malfoy. Whatever flirtation you have going on here, stop it now. I didn't go through hell, tracking down horcruxes only to be made a fool by some attractive dimbo who can't keep it in his pants."
He smirks down upon me, and my harsh grip begins to liquefy over his robes. "Says the horny girl. Not very studious are you, Miss Granger?"
I should slap the man in order to properly declare my strengths and capabilities that I am a threat to those who dare to oppose me. But if I did, that would also make me a bloody hypocrite.
Time slips into another illusion of the universe; while the hall thins out into silence, it balances out with my noisy, ragged breaths. One look into Malfoy, and his silvery green eyes absorb me entirely into his orbit. They merge all my sexual fantasies into one powerful, uttermost bliss.
No matter how much I deflect against his overbearing persistence, because the man is Draco Malfoy, he always manages to fend out a secret passage that mostly ends up as a colossal mess, bringing me back to square one; a defenceless, pitiful excuse for a witch, brutally high on his intoxicating and arousing presence.
And yes, coming from an academic perspective, I am a courageous, brilliant and independent witch.
But in the context of romance and relationships, I'm a pathetic weakling. As every strong person goes, there will always be that one, tiny flaw that becomes the entire downfall of their character.
And I admit it perfectly. Because one, long intense gaze into his impenetrable and translucent face, and my anger infuses with an indestructible and fierce pang of otherworldly arousal.
With one yank of his robes, we swallow up the distance with the mesh of our mouths. There is nothing but pure conviction and seduction as Malfoy laces his taut arms around my torso.
Our tongues rhythmically dance around each other, like two dance partners harmoniously in synch. Like an unconventional puzzle, while we're opposites in so many different ways, it makes us pure reflections of each other in other ways.
My legs quake effortlessly, into a hot mesh of sweet liquid. I lean heavily into Draco's vibrating chest, eradicating quick echoes of his nervous heartbeat through his horny exhilaration. He tethers his fingertips through the farm of mu triumphant curls, and forcibly cocks my head till it aligns with the infinite ceilings of the castle.
I tilt my head further into Draco's grasp. Somehow. when it comes to this man, he's the one exception that I wouldn't mind being tied up.
A moan so self consciously yet so carelessly loud slithers out of my mouth as Draco buries his perfect, peachy lips down the throb of my pulse in my carotid artery. All the while one of his hands caress under my skirt, cupping hold of my arse.
The simplest touch is my ultimate trigger. My hands already bury themselves into his pants, unbuckling and unzipping them. This is what I find most alluring about Draco. He challenges my wild side, and through these hot, scandalous moments, prove to me that I can reign off impulsivity. Unlike any guy I've met, he makes me feel confident and sexy.
"Hmm, someone is hungry, aren't they?" Draco's lips press into an addictive smirk.
"Shut up," I answer in a rushed, breathless tone. I unzip his pants, exposing his boxers and his bulbous erection that seems larger than life. Before I can fully reveal his hard, jutting cock, Draco quickly adjusts our positions. My chest is hauled into one of the stone pillars, with my back side snuggling right into the crook of his hard front.
My skirt is raised above my thighs, baring my panties in pure daylight. Draco places a small, sweet kiss to my jawline. "You want to get fucked in public, Granger? Oh I will fuck you in public, alright." With that, he aggressively hauls my panties down until they sit loosely around my knees.
A surprising yelp hollers out of my mouth when Draco saunters a fresh, painful spank upon one of my arse cheeks, fully satisfying one of my many sexual fantasies. He cups my neck, "But you have to be quiet, love. You don't want to traumatise the first years that are only down the hall."
I barely muster a yes or no before Draco's cock begins to upward thrust me into euphoric oblivion. His smooth, masculine hands crawl up under my shirt and bra, prickling my stone hard nipples and pinching them with an exact amount of pressure necessary.
I lazily noose one of my arms around his neck, and plough his much desired lips upon mine. Our kiss is hot, sloppy and a breathless mess, camouflaging into the music of our ragged groans and ear piercing moans.
I make the mistake of accidentally loudening my silent screams, and that earns another spank across the cheek. Draco tugs forcefully at my hair, "What did I say, Granger? Quiet. Otherwise, I won't let you come."
I'm too decomposed, mentally and physically by him to be wounded by frustration. He thrusts deeper and harder into me, screaming pleasure senselessly into my scorching hot g spot while his hands remain plastered over my erect breasts.
As Draco breathes into my feverish, convulsing skin, I drag my hands down his backside, shoving his trousers down enough so my fingers gain access to his muscular arse. I allow my nails the serenity of gnarling into his milky fresh flesh. A jolt of electricity seizes in Malfoy's face and arms.
"Fuck, yeah, good girl. Just like that. I knew you were always an arse girl, love." With one of my hands clawed into his arse and his own attached to my breasts, we reconnect our mouths, thrusting and hollering fantastically. The ghost of our erotic arousal echoes in all directions of Hogwarts, and it feels fucking magnifying.
His cock angers and twitches; the beginnings of our orgasms heighten until quick, silent and breathy moans escape both of us. My sore clit is sticky and sweltering in a stream of hot moisture - it's already an avalanche down there.
Our bodies soon synchronise, memorising the flow of our movements and the paces of Draco's thrusts. He soon accelerates until the front of my body is continuously propelling into the stone wall. "Come for me, Hermione. Let the entire wizarding world know that I'm yours and you are mine."
And so I do, in the most delicate and quiet way possible. The flow of our release is a direct contradiction to that; it's a tidal wave, pouring out of us until there's nothing left but our erratic heart rhythms, shaky breaths and shivering, aching muscles.
"Fuck," Draco groans pleasurably into my neck. Neither of us move, nor that we really can. Our bodies are too meshed into one another to guarantee movement.
Shortly after, he rests his chin upon my shoulder. "So, do you think Professor Vector will approve of our punctuality?"
I tilt my body to his, and another horrendously foul yet impulsive idea resonates in my mind. "I have a better idea." I idle my body around, and the momentary confusion in Draco's handsome face is my green light. I quickly lower myself onto my knees, in front of the cock that is still very pink and glistening with the moisture of his come.
My hands wrap around its impressively large size. I glance up with a corrupt look of innocence, and Malfoy is already parading his look of vindictive retribution.
"Now it's my turn."