The Goddamn Signet Ring
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Summary
Her breath couldn’t seem to stay in her lungs as she gasped with the building pressure of her fingers working into her.
“Just like that. Please. Harder. Harder,” she said, eyes closed and back arching high off the bed.
As her climax reached its peak, a loud, crashing noise filled her room.
Hermione’s eyes shot open wide to look at the door to her bedroom where a tall, masked man stood, wand drawn and foot extended from kicking her door down.
She let out a vicious scream, not from fear but out of frustration because yet another fucking Death Eater had come to interrupt her evening, except this time, he’d stolen what was sure to be a toe-curling orgasm right out of her arousal-slicked fingers.
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OR: Death Eater Draco tries to kidnap Hermione, so she makes him an offer he can't refuse.
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At first, she was shocked. Surprised at her own reactions, and how she found her knickers growing wet after their one-on-one meetings. Then came shame, flaming her cheeks and carving a hollow in her stomach that panged like an empty cauldron.
Why else did she find herself staring at them during meetings, watching his fingers stroke the soft tip of his quill with a burning tightness in her lungs and tension building in her abdomen? Or how, when he used his thumb to spin one of his rings, she felt each stroke between her thighs? When he rapped a knuckle on the table between them, it echoed the stuttered tempo of her own heart, and only then could she force herself to look away.
Draco Malfoy's hands were her most despicable fantasy.
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Summary
Death Eater Draco and Order member Hermione are briefly reunited after a forced separation that left them both feeling lost.
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When Hermione Granger is presented with a problem, she turns to research. Information, hypotheses, and experiments... These are all things she knows and loves, so it should come as no surprise that when she finds herself with a problem in the bedroom, she knows exactly how to find a solution.
And it just so happens that the solution is in the arms of a strong and confident stranger, with hands and lips that know just how to drive her body wild. The only problem? They belong to Draco Malfoy, the one person she should never trust.
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He knows she sees it then, by the way her eyes flare, fixing on the glint of silver.
Pansy had tsked when she’d first seen it, a pejorative “Good lord, Draco” coupled with a bemused, “Merlin, has your mother seen this?” (No, she hasn’t—because the Manor allows for fucking glamours.)
Granger doesn’t tsk or chastise. She stares for a moment then laughs, soft and disbelieving. “Sorry, was that…is your tongue pierced?”
He hums an affirmative, then clicks the barbell against the back of his teeth. “It is indeed.”
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Or, Draco has a pierced tongue and knows how to use it
Series
- Part 5 of Pierced Draco