Sold

Draco had been sitting in the Slytherin dungeons watching the card game between Blaise, Crabbe and Goyle for over two hours. He’d already cashed out and wanted to go home to Hermione. He grinned when he thought of it as going home. Before he’d lived in a world in which even touching her would have been impossible. Now, not only could he touch her, but he was the only one who could. He loved looking down and seeing her red lips working on his cock or watching her tits bounce as he rammed his cock into her tight little pussy. He’d never shagged the same girl for this long before in his life and one had never held his interest for this long. He supposed that this was how his father had felt about his mother. Lucius Malfoy had not been in love with Narcissa, but he had been quite obsessed. He collected many things, including people and Narcissa Malfoy had been like that one rare painting that a person spent years tracking down and now hung in his home office for only his eyes to view.

Draco felt the same way about his own wife. She was rare, unique, beautiful and symbolic of the fact that only someone with as much power and influence as he had could own her. Before, Draco had been at a loss as to which witch he would marry. None of them required any effort. Anyone with a bank account could fuck them. Now, his little mudblood was an entirely different story. Nobody could touch her. Even Viktor Krum hadn’t been able to connive his cock into her tight little pussy and Weasley had been too scared. He didn’t blame the redheaded git; she was an exceptional girl who required a very firm hand. Fortunately, Draco enjoyed having to get rough with her. She wouldn’t have been any fun if she had just rolled over. They were on a schedule now where she would behave for a few days before exploding at him in rebellion. It gave him a chance to indulge his sadist side and it made the days she submitted to him that much more fun.

He loved watching the faces of every other boy in his year and some below when they watched him run his hands over her exquisite, curvy body in the halls or during meals. He loved flaunting his exclusive rights to those curves in their faces. He knew that Blaise was still pissed about him stealing her before anyone else even had a chance, but that was life. Blaise had been bugging him for weeks about watching them fuck through a pensieve memory and he was considering letting him. After all, the poor man had yet to find a suitable bride and most of the girls at school were taken who were of age.

As Draco watched Goyle win yet another hand, he was suddenly hit with a sharp stab of pain in his temple. He rarely had headaches, much less instant ones, so this one caused him slight alarm. Shaking his head, he thought it must be gone when another sharp pain hit him and Hermione’s face flashed through his brain. What was she doing? Two days after the Slytherin party she had tried to hide from on the grounds. When he finally located her in the Room of Requirement, he drug her back to their room by the front of her shirt and threw her down their staircase, breaking her clavicle. He’d had to heal her himself because he couldn’t take her to the nurse like that. He’d waited until after he’d shagged her, though. When she had hidden from him, he’d gotten a dull headache that had steadily increased until he found her.

He was standing up and pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes to dull the pain when he felt something like a sucker punch to the gut and the most horrendous nausea he’d ever felt in his life. He doubled over in pain and that’s when her face flashed before him again, this time outlined by a bookshelf. He couldn’t see anyone else around her, but he KNEW. Someone was touching her. She was letting some other male put his hands on her.

He was going to kill her.

Ignoring Goyle’s questions about his health, Draco stalked out of the dungeon. With each step he took, his nausea and pain grew. Merlin, how could she stand this? He knew she was feeling the same way and probably worse. Then again, his weeks of smacking her around had probably helped her to build up a tolerance. Another wave hit him and he thought to himself, ‘Good God, am I really that horrid that she’ll put up with this just to shag someone else?’ He was willing to bet it was that Finnegan boy from her house. He would kill the half-blooded monstrosity for having the audacity to touch what was his.

The outline of books could only mean one thing; that she was in her sanctuary, the library. As he entered the dusty place, the sharp pains stopped, but his headache was still there. She must have had enough. He could hear noises from the restricted section and he made his way back there. His suspicions were confirmed when he heard her cry out in pain and ask someone to stop. He curled his hands into fists. He was the only one who was allowed to make her cry out like that. He overheard their conversation and stepped into their corner.

“It’s nothing in comparison to what I’m going to do to you, Nott,” he heard himself grind out in response to Nott’s query about Hermione.

It was as if he was watching himself when as if in a dream, he took his wand out and hissed “Funniculus!” at his rival. Nott’s features bubbled up into painful, bursting blisters and sores that Draco knew from experience would be all over his body. Unlike his father however, Draco let the curse continue and cast another. The sectumsempra hit Nott and his screams echoed around them. The silencing spell the two had placed earlier prevented anyone but the three of them from hearing anything.

He came back to himself when he felt all the pain and nausea leave his body as she touched his arm. It was like having the cruciatus curse lifted. A person was in so much pain under that curse that when it was lifted, they felt as if they could fly. Right now, Draco felt delirious and wanted to fuck his wife into the wall. He lifted the curse on Nott. Looking at her open blouse however, his anger flooded back as he threw her against the wall and stepped over Nott.

Kicking the groaning and bleeding boy in the stomach, he took out his wand again and shouted, “Obliviate!” Throwing a charmed how-to book about the Dark Arts down next to Nott, Draco grabbed his wife’s arm and drug her out of the library and down the hall. She fell once, grazing her knee, and he didn’t even pause. When they finally got to their room he pulled her to him and tried to kiss her, but she wouldn’t open her mouth. Biting down on her plump lower lip until it bled, she opened her mouth to let out a guttural cry of frustration and anger. He held her by her throat, his hand wrapped around it, holding her slightly off the ground as he invaded her mouth. She hit at his chest with her fists and he squeezed tighter. This kiss wasn’t caring or lustful, it was a promise of things to come.

Breaking it off, he saw her glare at him with fear and hatred in her eyes. He smirked and threw her to the floor in front of their closet. She got on her knees and was about to speak when he silenced her with a flick of his wand. Another swish and she was unable to move any of her limbs.

“I think we’ll be leaving for the holidays a bit earlier than expected, love. You’ve got a lot to learn about being my wife and that’s best learned at home.” Ignoring the look of horror on her face, he walked to Professor Slughorn’s office, using the trek to force his face into an emotionless blank slate while he fed his anger. The interim headmaster gave his permission for the two of them to leave early. It seemed that the mere memory of Abraxas Malfoy could still cow people to do his bidding. He went back to their room and saw his lovely wife still in her same position on the floor. Walking towards her, he loomed over her, and used his foot to nudge her onto her back. Kneeling on top of her, he softly touched her face.

“Did you really think that I’d ever let anyone else touch you? Did you think you could get away with it?” He reveled in the furious glare she was giving him, loving the angry tears that fell from her eyes. “I own you, princess. Don’t ever, EVER forget that!” He roared the last part before slapping her face so hard, her lip split. Dragging her up, he took the floo powder from the fireplace mantel and throwing it in, called out, “Malfoy Manor!”

Once he stepped out into his living room, he cleared both his wife and himself of ashes with a swish of the wand. He threw her onto a fainting couch and lifted the hold on her voice and her arms. He was prepared for the verbal assault, but not the physical one.

“I hate you!” she screamed. “I hate you more than anyone or anything I’ve ever hated in my life!” She leapt from the couch and kicked him in the back of the knee, making him collapse to the floor. She took off like a shot and Draco only barely grabbed the hem of her skirt before she jerked it free of his grasp. She ran from the room and he could hear her footsteps clattering over the marble flooring of the manor. Groaning, he got to his feet and went after her.

Stepping into the marble entry-way, he looked around for clues as to where she might be. He could no longer hear footsteps, but he was drawn to the staircase. The mental bond had been stimulated by her infidelity and her state of fear kept it going strong. ‘Stupid, bloody Gryffindor,’ he thought. They should know to keep their minds closed. He climbed up the stairs and was rewarded with the sight of her shoes outside his mother’s former day room. He thought about searching the room, but he knew it would be fruitless. She wouldn’t place herself so close to evidence.

Quietly as he could, he began checking all the rooms on the second floor. He was beginning to think she had left the house, but that was impossible. The wards hadn’t been changed yet to recognize her, so it would alert him if she opened a window or made it to a door. He didn’t have to rely on wards, however, because she emerged, barefoot from his father’s study. Her eyes locked with his and she sucked back in, manually locking the door. As he used his wand to open it, tiny, insistent chimes rang around his head and a golden line appeared in front of him and sped towards her as she struggled to get through the open window.

He reached her just in time, and grabbing her about the waist, he hauled her back in. She gave a strangled cry of frustration as she bucked in his grasp. His body reacted to feeling her so close again and he bit down on her neck and sucked at the skin just below her ear.

“Let go of me!” she screamed. “Let go, you sodding bastard!” With that, she twisted her head and bit down on his shoulder, hard. Draco felt his head fall back with pain, but it felt like an aphrodisiac. He shook her off and instead of running, she glared at him before raking her nails down his face and the side of his neck. Her eyes sparked dangerously, but he’d never found her more beautiful.

There was the rage he’d seen in their third year when she had slapped him the first time, marking him, telling him he was different, special. Now that rage was back and he was once again the focus of it. He’d marked her body since that day in third year and now he felt marked by the lines going down his face. They felt like a public declaration of love. The blood from the scratches dripped into his eyes, but he could still see her. Her curls fanned about her face, her eyes ablaze and her chest heaving, all because of him. He couldn’t help himself, he grinned.

He grinned and lunged for her, catching her around the waist and hauling her upwards. She kicked and punched and slapped at him and his grip continued to tighten around her, crushing her lungs. Her breath came in gasps as she grunted and twisted in his arms as he dragged her out the door, intending to take her to their bedroom. Once again, he underestimated her and was shocked to feel her tiny hands around his throat, squeezing the breath from him. He immediately let go of her to put his hands around hers and was shocked to find that she had released him. She tried to kick him again, but he was prepared and blocked her. She turned down the hallway and he was close at her heels. She dodged into a guest bedroom, trying to shut him out but his foot caught in the door and he grabbed a fistful of her hair as he swept into the room throwing her on the bed. She wasted no time in pouncing on him, but he had the upper hand. She was physically weaker and the only reason she’d gotten this far was pure adrenaline, which was now waning.

Trying to pin her to the bed, he kicked off his shoes and pulled at her shirt until it ripped off of her. He dodged her tiny flying hands as best he could, but she still managed to punch him in the eye. Growling, he ripped her skirt from her and knelt over her, pinning her shoulders down with his knees as he took his shirt off. She worked one of her hands free and took her already blood caked nails and dragged them down his chest, marring the perfect, white flesh and he hissed with pleasure.

“You know, for someone who just tried to commit adultery, you have a lot of self-righteous anger, love,” he said as he freed his erection from his pants and moved inside her with a quick, painful thrust. He sighed in relief. The bond was appeased and the horrible feeling of emptiness went away the second he was inside of her.

“I hate you,” she said, finally crying, “I hate you so much!” He licked at the tears on her face and she tried to hit him again, but he grabbed his wand from the floor and flicking it, tied her wrists above her head. “It isn’t fair! You can do whatever you want, fuck whomever you want and I have to just sit back and take it, don’t I? I can’t even have my own affair, you repulsive cockroach!”

He laughed. “Is that what this is about? Well it’s about time you gave a damn what I did, but it’s a bit late. You should have had this reaction before the wedding.” He continued laughing and she bucked her hips trying to throw him off, but it just gave him more pleasure.

“You still do it!” she accused. “I’m not so stupid that I don’t know where you go! I don’t even care, the only thing I did was try to even the score, but I can’t even stand somebody else’s touch, much less sleep with them.”

“Darling, I can’t put my dick in anybody else and if any witch had tried to touch me, trust me, you would know. From now on, you are the only one I can get it up for and I’m the only one that will ever be able to get it in you. If you want to get rid of that frustration, it has to be me and you are the only one who can take care of my needs, which trust me, are plenty. Besides, you can say I’m repulsive, but your body knows otherwise.” With that, he gave her one long, satisfying stroke with his manhood as it glided easily, in and out of her. She responded by letting more tears fall from her eyes.

“I hate you more than anyone,” she said softly as he continued to use her body.

“As long as I’m first, that’s all that matters,” he said, closing his eyes and continuing to take her.

He took her multiple ways that first evening home. He hoped that he had impregnated her. His father once told him that the ultimate way to tell the world you owned a woman was to fill her belly with your child. He intended to accomplish that over their vacation. The honeymoon could wait; he needed to get it through her head that this was not a temporary situation and that very shortly she would be bringing another Malfoy into the world. She thought she was still on a contraceptive, but he’d found her new stash and sabotaged it.

When he finished with her for the night, she cried herself to sleep and he stayed up watching her. He healed himself everywhere with the exception of the one scratch mark on his face. He had a line that ran down his forehead, through his left eyebrow, skipped his eye and ran over his cheek. He knew that there were salves to prevent scarring, but wanted a reminder that he mattered enough to her for her to be this violent, that he shook her world. She knew now that they only had each other. He pulled her closer to him and pressed his lips to her temple. No matter what, she was his now. He would rather see her dead than to ever let her go, but it would never come to that, he was sure of it.


A/N- Sorry for the delay, but my computer crashed and I lost every single file I had. I lost everything for ‘After Midnight’ and ‘Pictures’. I lost the chapters for this story as well. This isn’t the direction I had planned on taking it, but several people asked for a chase, so here it is and I hope I didn’t disappoint. Thank you to everyone who reviews!