31) I'm Jealous, I'm Over-Zealous

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Hermione was firmly pressed, face-first, against the bathroom door, her hands magically pinned to the door above her head.

Draco's hard chest was pressed against the length of her back, and he was fucking her at an agonizingly slow rate. She could feel her core fluttering around him as he pressed slowly into her. Her fingers were scrabbling for something to hold as her entire body tensed around him. He gave a low hiss; the air ghosted across her over-sensitive glands and she gave a low whimper.

His hands slid along her body languorously, playing with her glands on her wrists until she was quivering and then slowly gliding down to palm her breasts and roll her nipples between his fingers. His thumb rubbed a soft circle against the tip of her nipple and her entire body tensed as if she'd been electrocuted.

"God!—" She shuddered and collapsed against the door.

Draco's lips pressed against the back of her neck and then down along her trapezius muscle as he used one arm to keep her legs from giving out beneath her.

"Mine," he said against her shoulder, breathing deeply against her skin. "You're mine."

She felt him open his mouth and catch her shoulder between his teeth. His upper incisors dragged against her scent glands.

Hermione gave a guttural scream and her entire body tensed and nearly spasmed around him. Her forehead smacked sharply on the door and she winced, squeezing her eyes tightly closed.

"God!! Bloody—fuck—Draco—please."

"Please what?" Draco rolled his hips and drove into her again. She could hear the smirk in his voice.

She swallowed. "Please—"

Bite me. Please bite me. Bite me. Please.

"Please—," she dropped her head against the door and drew a ragged breath as she tried to remember how to form a sentence.

Draco's cock withdrew and then pressed slowly into her again until she gasped and made an utterly incoherent noise.

"Please, Alpha," she half-whimpered. "I need you."

"You need to be more specific." Draco's tongue slid down the shell of her ear, catching a drop of water from the lobe.

Her hair was dripping wet.

They'd been taking an evening shower. She'd been giving him a very, very extended blow job and getting just ridiculously horny in the process when he'd lost patience. Admittedly, he had asked her to get up and let him shag her five times before he'd finally dragged her out of the shower, snatched up his wand, and then magicked her wrists to the door.

"You are the most uncooperative witch," he'd muttered into her ear as his fingers had slid into her core and she gave a low moan.

"What? Do you want me docile?" she'd asked, her voice thick with arousal as she twisted her wrists slightly to determine what charm he'd used to trap her.

"Never," he'd said as he withdrew his fingers. He gave a low groan, aligned his cock with her sex, and slowly sheathed himself inside her.

Well, if he didn't want her docile, he certainly hadn't seemed to mind her threatening, indignant, exhorting, cajoling, whimpering, and finally begging as he had fucked her the exact edge of an orgasm and then intently kept her there for what felt like an eternity.

Draco brushed his lips against her glands and the skin across her entire body prickled.

"Is there something specific you wanted, Hermione?"

Bite me. Bite me. Bite me.

Hermione dropped her head against the door until she felt his fingertips tracing along the underside of breasts. She trembled at his touch and gave a despairing moan.

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