Sold

It had been three days since Draco had been engaged to Granger and he’d worked his way through most of the girls in his year. Even though the girls all knew that they had no chance of becoming his wife now, they still threw themselves at him in order to hopefully win a spot as his mistress. What he told none of them was that once his marriage to Granger was officiated, he would no longer be capable of sustaining an erection for anyone but her and she would not be able to get aroused for another man. If he wanted to have a go with anyone, he’d better get on it now. Once in the 17th century, a Malfoy bastard child had caused an extreme uproar and split in the family fortune. It left the legitimate Malfoy almost destitute and had he not killed his half-brother, the great Malfoy name would have been lost forever without the money, properties and business ventures to add to their political influence. Consequently, all Malfoy’s were put under a fidelity charm so the problem could not reoccur. Draco was sorry that his time as a bachelor was cut short, but he was very much looking forward to Granger finding out that his was her only option for cock in the future.

He was currently slamming into Daphne Greengrass from behind. The girl was annoying and had a very common face, but she had a great ass and great legs. Feeling himself about to cum, he redoubled his efforts and came just after he pulled of her. Coming on her back, he zipped up his trousers and slapped Daphne on the ass as he left the classroom in which they were hiding. It was past curfew, but since Draco was best friends with the Head Boy and in a very serious relationship with the head girl, he didn’t think it would be a problem. He whistled slightly to himself as he made his way back to his new dorm. Shaw was on his list of girls he wanted try out before it was the end. He’d almost finished with the list and he was growing increasingly agitated at Granger’s attitude about it. For the past two nights, he’d crawled into her bed, pulled and groped at her naked body, all while smelling like another woman. He remembered when he was dating Pansy, that the slightest whiff of foreign perfume made her tear into a rage. Granger just seemed relieved and didn’t even have the common decency to care that he was flaunting another woman in her face.

However, he had surmised that she believed that if he busied himself elsewhere, he wouldn’t bother her about taking care of his needs. How wrong she was, he thought with an evil grin. Stepping through their portrait, he took the stairs to their bedroom two at a time and opened the door, hoping to see her disgruntled face. What he saw however, was her sleeping form, curled up on her side of the bed, an open book to one side of her. She was dressed in a white cotton tank top and green plaid flannel pajama pants. She must have fallen asleep studying. He walked over and inspected her curious choice of sleep wear. He still couldn’t understand why muggle women went out of their way to dress so much like muggle men. He didn’t mind watching Granger’s pert ass move around in the muggle blue jeans she wore to Hogsmeade, but these shapeless pajama pants had to go because they hid her delectable curves far too well. At least the tank top was tight and drew attention to her large, heavy breasts.

As Draco watched her sleep, he took everything about her in. He’d fancied her since day one at Hogwarts. When they were first years coming across on the boats with that oaf, Hagrid, he had been certain that she was a pureblood. She knew more about Hogwarts than his mother and so he was certain that she must be from one of the poorer pureblooded families. When she was sorted into Gryffindor, he had been disgusted. He hadn’t recognized her last name so he thought she must have been a half-blood, born to a blood-traitor. Then to his great astonishment, he’d discovered that she was muggle-born. This exceedingly intelligent, powerful, beautiful and competent girl was the lowest of lows in his father’s eyes. She was nothing like what Lucius had told him a mudblood would be like. She never bumbled, she had more control over her powers than he did and she excelled in every single class. Her spellcraft always worked and she fit seamlessly into wizarding society. Other than her original know-it-all obnoxiousness, she had perfect manners and was actually very graceful and enjoyable to be around. She was polite and helpful to everybody, even Slytherins.

The only Slytherin she had never even looked twice at was him. Clenching his fist as he stared at her sleeping form, he thought back to all those times in his first year he had tried to get her attention. He put extra effort into the classes they shared so that maybe she might ask him to study with her if she saw how good he was. Instead, she spent all her time helping the Boy-Who Lived and his garish ginger sidekick, all but ignoring him. Starting with their second year, he realized that he wouldn’t be able to get her attention unless he insulted her. He loved seeing her eyes flash with anger and he wanted to be the one that she loathed the most. If he couldn’t be the recipient of her smiles, he wanted to the one who got most of her glares. When she punched him in third year, he’d been furious and elated. He was furious that a lowly mudblood like herself had dared to treat him like that and elated that he got under her skin enough to make the normally peaceful girl resort to violence. He’d considered himself special to her.

He had been raised to believe that he was above everyone else, that his company should be sought after and granted only sparingly. Everyone in his house bent over backwards trying to please him as did a large portion of Ravenclaw and most of Hufflepuff. Even a few Gryffindors attempted to be civil with him because of his family connections. The one family that didn’t try to get in his good graces was the wizarding family his little mudblood seemed most fond of: the Weasleys. He hated their ginger hair, the fact that they weren’t ashamed of their parents lack of sense when came to breeding more children than they could afford and he hated the fact that Ron Weasley took for granted the attention he got from Granger. It was obvious that she’d been in love with the stupid oaf since second year and the stupid, blind boy hadn’t even cared. Draco was glad that he’d gotten to watch their fight at the Yule Ball. He had hoped that her relationship with Viktor would make her realize that she was meant for something far better than a dense pauper like Weasley, but it didn’t.

After the Yule Ball, Draco had been forced to come to terms with the fact that his fascination with the muggle-born girl was completely unacceptable. His father would never allow such a thing and Draco himself felt a great amount of self-loathing for wanting her to notice him. He was a Malfoy, for Merlin’s sake. He came from the longest line of purebloods in all of England and his father’s lineage had never produced a single squib. His father would have been furious if he had known of his son’s obsession. So that his father never became suspicious, he began dating Pansy and other daughters of pureblooded families, making certain that his father heard of his sexual exploits and dating patterns.

However, the more he mixed with pureblooded society, the more he was forced to admit that there was absolutely no difference in magical ability between the two types of witches and wizards. In the case of Hermione Granger, she was better than most. In fact, she was better than all of them. She was more powerful magically, than any pureblooded girl currently at Hogwarts and she was beautiful without the aid of expensive glamour charms and hours of painstaking work in the spa. It was ultimately this realization that forced Draco to aid the Order as much as he could after his part in Dumbledore’s death. He was pardoned, along with his mother and when his father died, his mother immediately set to work reconnecting the family in the Ministry’s good graces. When her cousin Eckland informed her about the new law the ministry was going to pass, she had procured the absolute best muggle-born the entire wizarding population of Europe had to offer as his future wife. Malfoys always led, so it was fitting that they be the first to fall in with the new law.

His mother was no fool and she wasn’t put into Slytherin for nothing. Her work to get the Malfoy family back into the good graces of the ministry made the acquisition of Granger go smoothly and quietly so that none of the other families would realize what she had done until it was too late. Draco had told her that getting her would be impossible, but Narcissa Malfoy always found a way. Now, her son had a bride who was worthy of the Malfoy name and they had fully reinstated themselves back in the ministry’s good graces.

Banishing thoughts of his mother from his mind, Draco looked down at the girl he both wanted and hated. She looked peaceful, laying there with her curls fanned around her face. Her long eyelashes cast slight shadows on her cheeks and her sculpted eye brows were in relaxed repose, instead of being knit into a scowl, the way they normally were whenever he was in the same room as her. Bending over her, he tucked an errant curl behind her delicate, shell-shaped ear and brought his finger down to trace her delicate jaw line. He stopped on her chin, just below her lips, which were slightly parted and red. Looking at the bowl of half-eaten strawberries, he knew why. She never wore make-up and the only magical alteration to her appearance was the fixing of her teeth in fourth year. Grinning to himself, he thought once again about how he was responsible for the beauty in front of him. Her hair had calmed down and turned into angelic ringlets, but without his meddling, she would still have teeth so bucked she could eat corn through a picket fence. Looking at her on the red satin bed sheets, he thought she looked like an angel, a true piece of natural art work. Da Vinci would have painted her as a Madonna or a seraph angel she looked so beautiful and pure. Draco however, wanted to take that beauty and ruin it.

Moving his hand from her face down to the swell of her breast, he palmed the mound and felt her nipple pebble in his hand. It fit perfectly into his hand, spilling out just slightly. He knelt on the bed next to her lifted her tank top up so that he could see her perfect breasts. The left one had a thin purple bruise on the underside from his ministrations that morning and he smirked at his mark on her. Running his thumbs over the dusky rose tips of what he considered to be his breasts, he watched as she moaned slightly and her lips parted more as she panted lightly. Grinning in a way that would have terrified her if she’d been awake, he pinched one between his thumb and forefinger and listened to her quiet gasp. She could feign indifference while she was awake, but Draco knew that she had a wanton, passionate nature, the little slut. Now she was his slut. No more picturing her in his head while fucked another girl, no more making Pansy wear a Gryffindor tie when they role played. He had the real deal in front of him.

Even though he had just come on Daphne Greengrass’s backside, he was as hard as if he hadn’t shagged or wanked in a week. He was still massaging her breasts and nuzzling them, ever so slightly and she was arching into his touch. Her breathy little moans made him want to yank off her offending articles of clothing bury himself cock deep inside her tight little pussy. She was rubbing her thighs together so he knew she must be getting wet. Giving in to temptation, he sucked one nipple into his mouth and used his tongue to work the bud back and forth before suckling her like a babe. She was still asleep, but her fingers reached out and held him to her, the dainty digits playing with his blonde hair. To his great delight, she began mumbling coherent words in sleep as he suckled her breasts and ran his hands over the soft, silky expanse of her torso.

“Oh, gods,” she whimpered, “Oh…Oh, gods! Oh… oh…oh, please!” Draco grinned and began to kiss his way over her stomach. She still arched into him, but she quit speaking so he moved to her breasts again with his mouth.

“Oh, please…oh gods, yes!” she moaned as she squirmed beneath him. What she said next, ruined his good mood. “Oh, god, Ron!”

The second the name slipped from her mouth, Draco bit down on her breast to the point of drawing blood. She sat up with a squeal and he backhanded her across the face making her fall back against the pillows. He glared down at her now open and frightened eyes, her blood staining his lips and his grey eyes demonic in their intensity.

“You’ve broken at least three rules tonight, Granger,” he said through clenched teeth and she pulled her tank top down and scooted as far away from him as she possibly could. “First, I told you to always wait up for me and when I came in, you were sound asleep.”

“You can’t possibly expect me to wait up when I don’t have a clue as to what time you’ll be waltzing in since you don’t have any discernable schedule,” she protested. “Besides, why do I have to be awake when you’ve already gotten what you wanted with some other girl?”

“You’ll wait up for me and you’ll take care of any needs I might have because as my dutiful wife, that is what you are there for. I can’t fuck your pussy yet, but I can fuck you in the mouth and use you in a number of other ways to get satisfaction and it is your job to see that I’m satisfied and not to leave it to some other witch. That brings me to my second rule you’ve broken. I paid good money for that body of yours and even though this ludicrous law says I can’t fuck it yet, I want to be able to see it. I told you that you were not allowed to wear anything to bed and you’re wearing those awful flannel men’s pants. I don’t need any reminders of how frumpy you can look when you put your mind to it.”

“But it’s freezing in here! It won’t benefit you any at all if I get sick. Also, if I don’t know when you’re coming in, how can I know when to take my clothes off? I should at least be allowed to wear something until it’s time for bed. You can still paw at me through flannel pajamas!” She was huddled in the corner of the bed on her side which was pressed against the wall. She was trapped.

Reaching out, he slapped her across the face again and saw the red mark his palm had made from his earlier abuse. Laughing as she shrank back when he reached for her, he ripped her cotton tank top in half and forced it from her shoulders. She attempted to cover herself with her arms and he pulled his wand from his pocket and spelled her arms to her sides. He pulled her legs out from under her and pulled the Kelly green plaid material off of her legs, finally exposing her naked form to his eyes.

“Finally, your third broken rule is the most disgusting one: Never mention Weasley’s name in my presence again or there will be dire consequences.” He flipped her over and pushed her knees up under her so that her ass was presented to him in the air. “You owe me big time, for that offence, princess.”

“Wait!” she cried out panicking as he pulled down his zipper and released his aching cock from the confines of his trousers and began pressing it against the puckered hole of her anus. “Wait, please! I was asleep when I said it! Please don’t do this!”

“You still said it and you need to be punished for everything you’ve done tonight.” He gripped her hip in a bruising manner that made her squeal. He knew she dreaded anal sex almost as much as she dreaded being wandless. “Of course, if you’d rather make it up to me another way, you’ll have to convince me that you’re very sorry.”

“Why don’t you let me suck you off? You like it when I do that.” She was wiggling her ass in the most delicious way in an attempt to get away from his angry, engorged cock and he loved the view.

“If that’s what you want, you’ve got to beg for it.” He smirked and ran his hands over the perfect flesh of her hips. He was dieing to come inside her, but hearing her know-it-all voice beg to suck him off would be heavenly.

Giving a resigned sigh, she quietly spat out, “Please let me suck you off.”

“Oh, that was terrible! You don’t want to suck my cock at all. Pity. It appears that I’ll just have to stick it in your ass. This is going to hurt because I don’t have any lubricant.”
“Please! Please let me suck your cock!” she said franticly and he pulled away from her.

“That’s more like it,” he said. “I actually believed you that time.”

He flipped her over and took the binding spell off her arms. Straddling her, he watched as she took his cock in her mouth. He liked pinning her down like this. She seemed so much more submissive. Her red lips looked so perfect as they slid up and down the head of his erection. She couldn’t fit all of him in her mouth, but that was fine with him. He knew he was well-endowed and was extremely proud of that fact. Looking down at her body, he saw her breasts, pushed together and upwards by his thighs and got an idea.

“Let go, pet,” he said and gave a slight push to her forehead to get her to stop sucking. “Scoot backwards, but stay under me. I want a tit wank.”

She looked at him confused and he laughed. She was more experienced than he originally thought, but she was still innocent in comparison to most of the girls he knew. She used her arms to push herself backwards until she was almost resting against the headboard and looked at him warily. He loved seeing her honey brown eyes glisten with any emotion caused by him. Laying his dick in between her breasts, he palmed them and pushed them together around his engorged cock. The saliva from her earlier attentions made moving very easy and pleasurable.

“Fuck, Granger,” he grunted as he moved her hands to take the place of his. “You’ve got the best tits for this. I always thought Marietta Edgecomb did, but yours are actually a bit better because they’re firmer.” Her face turned red at his comparison, but he didn’t think it was out of anger. She looked at the wall while he thrust his cock in between her breasts, every so often hitting her chin with the head. At last he came with a grunt and he pulled back so that he could cover her breasts with his semen. Watching her get covered in his cum was exquisite.

Panting, he flopped on his back and looked at her. She made a move to get up, but he stopped her. Reaching out, he took two fingers and rubbed his release into her skin, before coating those two fingers and moving them down to her pussy. Using his own fluids as lubrication, he rubbed her folds, gaining entrance. Being very careful not to tear her maidenhead, he pushed his long, slender, exploring fingers inside and searched for the patch of skin that felt like a walnut shell. When he found it, he ran light circles over it, just barely grazing it and was rewarded with a stiffening of her body. Looking up at her face, he saw she was still looking at the wall, but her cheeks were slightly pink and her eyes had darkened slightly with the widening of her pupils. Grinning, he rubbed his thumb over her clit and was rewarded with a spasming clamp down on his fingers by her inner walls. He could tell it was working because her own fluids were beginning to show in addition to his.

Running his fingers up and down her inner lips, he paused every so often to re-circle her clit or to dip one finger back inside her pussy. Her folds were glistening now and her breathing was heavy. Picking up his wand he scourgified her chest and took one nipple into his mouth, sucking gently and lightly. He heard her whimper and saw she had her eyes closed.

“Open your eyes,” he said, deceptively calm. “Open your eyes and look at me.” He accented his last command with a painful pinch on her clit and she obeyed. Draco wanted her to see him and not think about Ron. He wanted her to know that he could take her far higher than any other boy she had been with could.

“I think,” he said, musing out loud, “that part of our problem is that you were unaware that I can make things pleasant for you as well. We’re going to be together a long time; much too long a time for you to deny yourself an orgasm for our entire married life. Just give in, love. There’s no harm in giving in and letting yourself get what you want.”

Her eyes stared at him and he saw the beginnings of tears form in the corners as her hips began to rise to meet his hand. He continued to slide his fingers in and out of her tight channel and every so often he bent his head and licked at her clit. When he saw the color rising from her chest to her neck, he knew he’d won. She came around his fingers and he pushed them in faster, slowing down little by little as he felt her orgasm come crashing down. Pulling his fingers out of her, she watched as he licked them clean and he watched as two tears, like glittering jewels fell from the corners of her eyes.

He lay down next to her and pulled the bed clothes up around them. She turned on her side to face the wall and he contoured his body against hers, not wanting her to get a second to herself so that she could calm herself and make believe it hadn’t happened. He reached over and brushed away the tears on her face. They were his tears. She would cry for no one else. He would make sure of it.