Fated To Be Tied

Fated To Be Tied
Chapter Four: Check-Mate
By: KatieVixen

Draco Malfoy surveyed his slumbering mate with a deep sense of satisfaction. Her breathing was now and and even, eyes fluttering gently against the tide of REM sleep. His thoughts were possessive and hungry, especially since only one half of the ritual had been completed, and the night was still young. Although the marking would be sealed with only one orgasmic release to complete the ritual, he intended to give her more. Much more, if he had anything to say about it.

And he did. After all, he was in control for tonight. And whatever Hermione may think, after their courtship, he still intended to exert control over her -- if only in matters of the bedchamber. His eyes drifted across soft skin, highlighted and golden from the candle’s light. Gods, she was beautiful. Even with her in sleep, he could not help but run his hand over her neck, breasts, stomach, and thighs. So small, so fragile. She had a formidable temper, his mate, but right now she looked very delicate, easy to harm. His other hand tightened it’s grip on her waist; no one would ever hurt her. He would kill them if they tried.

He continued his perusal of her body leisurely, gently trying to rouse her from sleep. After his first mark was sealed tonight, she would begin to exhibit some of his veelan traits. Other males would be more attracted to her, her voice and her body would be particularly more enchanting to them. She would have his slight inner glow, which other witches would envy but would not be cognizant of why.

Hermione shifted in his arms, eyes opening languidly against the tide of sensuality and sleep. She had dreamed of Draco. Said slytherin was poised at her side, running his hand over her stomach and chest in slow, circular motions. She realized that she was cradled to him, his other arm supporting her back with the hand firmly gripping her waist.

“Sleep well?” His voice was lazy and indulgent, which normally would have annoyed her. Yet tonight, she seemed to be moving through a sensuous dream, full of soft sights and sounds, punctured with searing sensation. She just felt so…sexual; liberated, in a way. She had always been so carefully with her body, training and taking care of it with a near military precision. But this night, she was all soft curves and languorous motion. And now she began to feel something new sizzle through her veins…predator. Not Draco the predator; Hermione the predator. And she liked it.

She looked at him wonderingly, and asked, “What is that?” Stretching her body out alongside his, rub rubbed herself sensuously against the coverlet and his skin. His pupils dilated at the display.

When he spoke, he bent his head down to the curve of her neck and shoulder, exhaling the words in a warm breath against equally warm and sensitive skin. “You’re body is adjusting to some of it’s veela changes. You read about that, didn’t you?” He continued at her nod, this time giving a small lick and nip to the junction that currently held his mouth preoccupied. “You’re going to be more sensitive now, more…alive…” Draco’s words trailed off when she tilted her head to his, face so close, lips even closer; he could almost taste them already, the warm vibrations of breath skittering across his mouth. It was too much, and he gave her mouth a sharp nip which caused her to open her mouth in surprise to the hurt. His lips pressed softly at first, then harder, molding her mouth to his. His tongue flicked enticingly, thrusting and curling around hers.

While his mouth was making heat curl low in her body, his hand had moved to caress her breast. Soft kneading, the textured pad of the index finger rubbing over the nipple, making her hips softly thrust upward, the body seeking more intimate contact.

“You’re so perfect, Hermione.” He whispered huskily. “So responsive to my hands, my mouth…” He had moved so that he was lying more atop her now, one thigh thrust in between her legs, both hands on her hips, guiding her in a riding motion to help her seek her pleasure. His mouth was a mixtures of wet sucking friction alternating with sharp nips on her breasts. She was thrashing, moaning. Sensation curled throughout her body, sharp and demanding release. Yet he denied her the ultimate pinnacle, wanting to see her flushed and impassioned, like a bitch in heat. His bitch in heat. HIS.

Draco moved his mouth upwards, from breast to the sweet column of her neck. Leaving small kisses and suction marks in his wake. He liked seeing her body marked like this, the evidence of his passion and possession. Lifting his hands, he lightly scored her sides with his nails, leaving thin red trails that made her writhe. His mouth to her ear while his hands kneaded her breasts, still slippery from his mouth. He could feel the heat from her sex, the moisture making its way to his skin through the fabric of his pants. Gods, she was that wet.

He was grinding against her, the fine linen of his pants seeming coarse against her skin. His voice was throaty and rough when he spoke into her ear, “Do you know how much I want to fuck you, Hermione? Seeing you like this, all flushed and wanting. I can smell you, you know. Smell you wet and ready for me.” His hands slid up from her breasts, over her shoulders and neck to her arms, drawing her hands up to the slats of the wooden headboard of the bed. Wrapping her hands around the intricately carved wood he whispered, “Keep you hands there, lover.”

Hermione gripped the wooden slats, fingers curving like claws to keep her hands in place. Draco returned his mouth to hers, softly biting and thrusting his tongue into the warm cavern of her mouth. Her body was moving, hips thrusting up towards his, needing that delicious friction against her sex. Draco moved his hands down her body, tracing her throat, shoulders, and finally, breasts. His hands gripped her roughly, fingernails digging into tender skin. Hermione inhaled sharply with the pleasure of it. She had never felt pain like this before. The sharp sensation of nails digging into skin seemed to glide through her body, making her arousal wind her up even tighter, teetering on the edge of release. When her mate let go and began to gently massage the bloody half moons dug into her breasts, she whimpered from the loss of it. His mouth took hers harshly, thrusting and molding, so that she had no choice but to respond. Her hips moved faster, harder, frantic for more sensation.

He moved his mouth down to her throat, nipping gently and suckling, tongue gliding along heated and sweaty skin. Gods, she was so hot. He legs had spread open even wider, so that now he was fully nestled in-between her thighs. He loved this, loved her submission to him. As a male veela in the throes of the mating ritual, he had very little control over his baser instincts. He wanted, needed her submission to his dominance, needed to know that she craved his body as much as he craved hers. He would never truly hurt her, but as his veela instincts were transferred to her body, every sensation would become more prominent. She would crave his touch, the painful and the pleasurable, because it could drive her to such release that only the exquisite agony of pain and pleasure combined can give. Gods, she was beautiful like this, flushed and out of control. The veela mating ritual was riding her hard now, and the only thoughts that could pass through her hazed mind were those of his body and hers.

He switched his hands on her breasts for his tongue, lapping at the pretty pink nipples that need his attention. His left hand trailed over her body, gliding down to the wrist to gently rub into the freshly made mark on her flesh. He smile was satisfied and slightly cruel when Hermione gave a cry of frustration, the hot coiling sensations from rubbing her mark echoing throughout her body. From now on, the three marks he placed on her body would be constant erogenous zones, places where the simplest touch would have her melting in his arms. Still, he wat tht that cruel…yet. His Hermione was untried in passion, and would not appreciate the rapturous torment he could wreck upon her body. For now, she needed tenderness, and tenderness is what he would give her. For now.

Moving hand from wrist to waist, he gripped side, hauling her body upwards in order to punctuate the thrusts from his hips. She wrapped one leg around his waist, practically sobbing when he slowed the frantic rhythm to a standstill.
“Hermione…” his voice was low and dark, with a sing-song cadence that made her toes curl. “Hermione…tell me what you want.”
She gasped for air “What?!..I…I..” she could barely think, and he wanted her to talk?
“Tell me what you want, Hermione.”
“I want…I want…need…”

He moved his right hand down her body, pausing at the apex of her thighs. Her body jerked upwards as his thumb covered her clit, and two fingers plunged harshly into her body, making her scream. “Tell me, Hermione…” he kept repeating this “tell me, tell me, tell me…” as he moved his fingers in and out of her a harsh rhythm, thrusting the two digits into her sex all the way up to the knuckles. She was practically keening, hovering on the edge of orgasm…trying to move her hips but he held her pinned.

Draco smiled with absolute male satisfaction. This was what he needed. Her only thought was now to please herself and him, and his possessive was was somewhat sated with the knowledge. Still, he wanted her to say it. He wanted to see that pretty mouth form words of lust for him. “Tell me…what do you want, Hermione? Do you want me to touch you here?” His words were punctuated by brushing his thumb over her clit and circling, so that her body tensed even more. When he spoke again, his eyes were a dark chrome, and his face was feral as he stared into her eyes. “Say it, Hermione. Say you want me. Tell me how much you want to feel my hands, my mouth on yours. Tell me, Hermione! Do you need me?”
“Yes” her voice was breathy, a pleading note.
“You want me to touch you?”
“Yes”
“With what, Hermione? I need to know how to please my mate. How should I touch you lover? With my hands? My tongue?” He ran his mouth over the column of her throat, giving a harsh nip to the throbbing pulse there. “What do you need from me, lover?”

She finally capitulated, and her submission was the sweetest thing he had ever felt. Her voice was breathy and practically sobbing from anticipation and need “Anything! Draco please! Whatever you want, anything,! Please, please, please…!”

“Anything for you, love.” He whispered as he simueouseously thrust his own hips against his hand, pushing his fingers back inside her body, while using his other hand on her side to guide the rhythm. Twisting her body up for a kiss, she came with a scream, inner muscles tightening around his fingers. Gods, she was tight. He couldn’t wait to fully take and claim her, but the ritual forbid the doing so tonight. And so he would content himself with the site of her orgasm and submission, knowing at this moment, she needed him more than anything else. As her body relaxed and came down from the throes of release, tiny aftershocks rocked her body, making her shiver. She needed sleep. He turned them over so that she rested atop his frame, pulling the coverlet over her form. He was still harder than he’d ever been, the veela ritual was at least a three day affair, and he would risk the chance of harming his mate by rushing things.

He sighed as she snuggled more crtabrtably into his body, unawares of what the movement was doing to him. There would be hell to pay in the morning, he knew. His mate was a proud little thing, and she would be embarrassed of her reaction to him, and the supposed “liberties” she had allowed him to take this night. Not that she could have helped herself, of course. By claiming Hermione as his mate, Draco would be transferring some of his traits onto her. Sort of a survival mechanism for both of them, to ensure that they would have the same drives and urges. Once he had bitten into her wrist, Hermione’s body had decided for her, and with the veela venom running through her veins and changing her, her body had reacted as full-blooded veela mate would have, with complete and utter pleasure and surrender to his every touch. Still, he thought with a grimace, Hermione would not be pleased come morning.

He would have preferred not to have had to rush things as he did, but there was really no choice. His sanity had been hanging on by a thread, and he was dangerous until he had fully completed the ritual. However, giving the first mark had appeased his beast somewhat, and he was satisfied in the knowledge that from now on his scent would be intermingled with hers, that he would always be able to know when she was in danger, and could always find her, no matter where she was. He could also “touch” her from a distance. So no matter where she was, if he concentrated, she would be able to feel his hands gliding over her body. She would be able to do the same thing as him, of course, but he doubted she would be willing to use it…at first. He stifled a yawn, and tried to banish his thoughts from his mind. He was tired from the magical aspect of the ritual, the draining of his natural essence to go into his mate. He needed rest. Tomorrow promised to be an interesting day, and he had no intention of being drowsy. Draco would need to seduce his mate. Hermione would have control after tonight, that was the deal, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t try to persuade her. With a dark smile, he promised himself that come tomorrow he would do everything within his power in order to sway his mate right back into his arms.


Author’s Note: Whew! This is just part A of Chapter 5, and part B should be out soon. I know I haven’t updated for a long while, and for that I am sorry. Its been extremely busy for me, and I just haven’t had the inspiration. But luckily, my muse has come back to me, and I hope to turn out more chapters much more quickly. I also just wanted to say thank-you for all the wonderful reviews and the e-mails I received, it really helped me out. Chapter 5B will be out soon, I promise!