Ultimatum

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

A/N: The site kicked this chapter off for some reason. I am reposting it and hoping that I will get all the nice reviews back that I had. Chapter 3 will be up by Saturday.

Chapter 2
The Shower

“She’s agreed?” Voldemort asked.

“Yes, sir,” Draco said, sitting relaxed in a seat across from his Lord.

“Well then, I give you permission to take her from her cell. She will stay in your room until her initiation tomorrow morning at which time she will then be given full freedom under your supervision.”

“Thank you, my Lord,” Draco said and stood.

“I’m proud of you,” the Dark Lord amended when Draco had reached the threshold.

“Thank you, sir. That means a lot,” Draco said, amazed he had been praised by the usually stoic man.

He left to claim his prize.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

She was sleeping in the corner when he found her. He lifted her into his strong arms and walked out of the room, apparating to his room when he had entered the hall.

He lay her down on the centre of his bed. Her hair sprawled out across the pillows and her body twisted just right so that her breasts were thrust out towards him. He covered her with the blanket and decided that he would let her sleep.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Hermione awoke and looked around her. The familiar stone that jutted out of the dungeon ceiling was not above her. Instead there was a woman on a bed that was quite obviously charmed to stick to the ceiling. She looked confused at the woman and the woman gave her a confused expression back. She waved demurely at the woman and the woman waved back. Hermione then touched a hand to her head and the woman did the same.

She gave the woman another confused glance and realised that this was no other woman, it was her. There was a mirror on the ceiling. She looked nothing as she remembered herself looking. Her skin was so much lighter then it had been. She had had a nice dark tan when she had been taken and now she was pale. Some of her bones jutted out where they shouldn’t, her cheeks much more defined than they should have been.

They hadn’t starved her but the lower rations of food atop the large quantities of sexual activity must have accounted for something against her body.

While she was critiquing herself in the mirror, the door to the room she was in opened and Draco walked in. He saw that she was awake and walked over to her with a grin. He rolled close to her on the bed and smirked. “How do you want me, luv?” he asked.

“What?” she asked.

“Well, do you want me to make love to you or do you want pain mixed with the pleasure?” he asked as if it were an everyday question.

“Right now?” she asked.

“What’s wrong with right now?” he asked.

“I think I need a shower,” she said.

“Mmm, I like that idea,” Draco said, his eyes falling closed with the fantasy. Hermione hit him on the shoulder playfully.

“Where’s the shower?” she asked.

“I’ll take you,” he said, pulling the covers off of her and lifting her once again into his arms. He carried her to the large bathroom off of his bedroom and deposited her in the humungous tile shower. “How warm do you want it?” he asked.

“What?”

“You just tell it how hot you want it and it does,” he said.

“Warmer than room temperature,” she said.

“37 degrees,” he told the shower and Hermione stood under the tap. “That’s my favourite temperature,” he told her.

“It’s perfect,” she said. Draco stepped out of the shower long enough to remove his clothes and then got back in. He touched his wand against a couple spots on the wall and, magically, more water spigots came out of those spots.

Hermione stood under the main shower head, just letting the warm water cascade down her body. Draco grabbed a glass phial of shampoo from the shelf on the far end of the shower and placed some in his palm. He walked across the large shower—it was about 2 by 3 metres—and started running the shampoo through her hair.

“You’re so bloody beautiful, Hermione,” he said softly as he washed her hair for her. She didn’t think—with all her time of submitting to his whip—that he could be so gentle. He thoroughly washed her hair and watched the three months of dirt and grime go down the drain. He had cleaned her with spells when he’d finished with her every night, but it apparently hadn’t worked very well.

After her hair had also received conditioner he then began to scrub her body with a coarse sponge. Hermione just rested against the wall and let him do his worst to her. He was being a bit harsher then need be, but he knew that she would like it. And she did like it, so much. If she wasn’t covered in water already you would be able to see the juices dripping from between her thighs.

Draco seemed to sense that she was getting randy. As soon as he had rubbed the coarse sponge across her feet, he dropped it, grabbed hold of her hips and brought her soaking pussy to his face. Hermione leaned back against the cold tile wall as he ran his tongue along her nether lips, lapping her juices. “Taste so bloody good,” he mumbled, running his tongue along her again.

“I need you,” Hermione moaned when he curled his tongue and plunged it into her.

“Patience, love,” he murmured against her wet flesh, thrusting his tongue in again. Hermione’s hands were in his hair, grabbing the silky tendrils in her fists and holding his head close.

“So bloody amazing,” Draco said, looking up into her eyes. She looked down and caught his appreciative look.

“Fuck!” she yelled out as two of his fingers unexpectedly plunged into her wet cunt.

“Language,” he said softly before bending to lick and nip and her clit. He alternated his tongue between lapping at her juices around his fingers and sawing at her clit until he had her cumming like a freight train.

Before Hermione could even calm down from her orgasm, she was against the wall with his hot, hard length buried inside her. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he penetrated her roughly against the shower wall.

Her nipples were hard from the cold wall and Draco took full advantage, sucking and laving at them as he took her. This was their first time to have sex out of the dungeon. Hermione arched her back, feeling the thrust and drag of his thick cock. One of his hands were in her hair, protecting her head, as the other held her arse, keeping her propped up so that he could reach places inside her better.

The only position they had ever had sex was missionary. Draco had wanted it to be that way, to not really show her the meaning of true pleasure until he had her in his bed and not in some filthy dungeon.

Hermione screamed out her release as her fingers clawed red rails down his back. Draco flinched at the pain but continued thrusting nonetheless. A half-dozen more thrusts before he sunk deep and spilled his seed deep into her womb, groaning his release into her mouth.

He held her there like that for a while, still unbelieving that this had truly happened and that he finally had her for real. He loved the fact that she wanted him despite everything he had done to her. He loved the feeling of her tight little pussy gripping tight around his cock and he never wanted to let that go again.

“I didn’t know you could have sex like that,” Hermione commented softly before laying her head on his shoulder and falling into a contented sleep.

Draco just smiled at the prospect of teaching her every other position. He carried her back to the bed. He dropped them both onto the bed. He pulled her into a spooning position and accio-ed the duvet to cover them.

He smiled into her wet hair as he fell asleep.