Devil In His Own Way

EUPHORIA

Draco picked up an ice cube, studying it. The ice began to melt against his fingers and drip down his wrist. Hermione was laid out before him, each of her limbs tied to the four corners of his bed. A black satin ribbon left her blindfolded and completely powerless before him.

For a moment, he hesitated. That same feeling from the night before solidified like concrete in his knees. Who was he, really? And who the bloody hell was she? Hermione looked absolutely stunning like that, her skin shining in the moonlight. She was giving herself to him, completely, and all he really wanted to do was talk. To caress her gently. Maybe to pepper a few kisses along her cheekbone.

What was it about a woman being powerless that turned him on so much? Staring at Hermione before him, it wasn't because he felt a need to dominate . He didn't want to be aggressive, to risk hurting her. She was trusting him so completely, like a fair few of witches had done before, but this time it was different.

"Draco," she moaned his name, pulling against the ropes tying her down. He dropped the ice cube, stunned by the way his name sounded. She was begging for him. And he couldn't stop overthinking simply teasing her. "Please do something, this isn't fair."

She said please , he thought to himself. It was the little boost that he needed. He picked up another ice cube from the tray and slowly made his way to her. Hermione turned her head in the direction of his footsteps.

Draco held out the ice cube to place it directly between her breasts. Hermione gasped at the sensation, the muscles in her abdomen clenching. Idly, he let the ice cube explore her left breast, circling around it before teasing at her nipple. It hardened beneath the ice, and Hermione bit at her bottom lip. Draco repeated the movements on the right, losing himself in the image of water dripping down her skin.

She was absolutely ravishing. Draco wanted to give her what she wanted: intense pleasure; more intense than even Theo could bloody give her. Hermione wanted to be teased, and he wanted to see how far he could take her. How many times could he make her cum before she was breathless? And how many times after that?

The ice cube melted as he made his way down her stomach to the apex of her thighs. Goosebumps rose on her skin, and Draco had to stifle a moan as he moved to rest his upper body on the bed between her legs. Hermione was absolutely wet for him, and she rolled her hips forward as best she could while he used his fingers to spread her lips apart. He wanted to devour her completely; to sink his tongue deep into her, and lick at her clit until she was exploding beneath his touch.

But, Draco went slow, keeping himself and his throbbing cock in check. He would deal with that later. Right then, he slowly circled her entrance with his pointer finger. She was slick to the touch, he could easily slip a finger or two into her. She desperately wanted him to; small whimpers were escaping her lips, searing themselves into his memory. He knew he'd be jerking himself off to those sounds for years after, starting probably later than evening after she left his room.

"You're not going to cum until I say you can," he glanced up the length of her body to watch her reaction to his words. Hermione was biting down on her bottom lip, and her knuckles were turning white as she gripped at the rope. Her hips rolled forward again, searching for his touch. Draco pulled his fingers from her sex to massage her thighs. "Got that?"

"Yes, Draco," she nodded enthusiastically, his name forcing its way past her lips with a low moan. "Just please touch me."

His cock twitched at the sound of the word please . Draco was finding it increasingly difficult to remain focused; he probably should have left her gagged for his own sanity. Draco smirked to himself as he pulled his hands away from her completely. Her sex was vibrating for him; he could see her walls spasming, trying to find some way to alleviate her arousal.