Restrained

A/N: Ok, hello guys…RoBoC here again with something new for you. As is my manner when posting new ficcies on the net, I like to start with a lil note, discussing briefly the primary motivation that caused me to create the story. In this case, as with many (oh, who am I kidding? I mean to say ALL) of my previous works, this story was inspired by, and is a gift for the one and only love of my life, the irreplaceable (and irresistible, take it from me), Raffy. She hasn’t been well lately – I won’t go into the details, but sufficed to say that this has been a rough week for my baby, and so I wrote this to try and make her feel a lil better. She liked it – and now I hope that you guys do too.

PS: I don’t write smut…it’s not my thing, so please be gentle with your comments.


Draco couldn’t stop a small growl from escaping his throat as Hermione pressed her hips forward into his, grinding herself even further into his lap. Her hands were squeezing the back of the chair so hard that he could hear her skin groan against the veneer. The intensity of her kiss grew and grew with each passing second. The slick friction of her taste buds on his sent a charge of glorious passion through his head. For a moment, Draco allowed himself simply to enjoy her passion for him, surrendering his mouth to her voracious tongue. Draco’s fingers traced the waistline of her jeans and then slid beneath the hem of her shirt to brush against the bare skin of her back, eliciting a slight moan from his wife as his tongue renewed its assault on hers.

She had missed him, of that he was certain. More than the excited yelp when she’d come home to find him waiting for her, or the crushing hug she had given him after sprinting the length of the marble tiled hall and leaping into his arms, this kiss told him just how much their time apart had affected her. He wasn’t due back for a couple of days, so his return had been a complete surprise, so much so that she hadn’t even asked him why he had cut his trip short and come home early. He supposed she’d interrogate him later, but questions didn’t appear to be high on her mind right now. Now that he was back, all of her pent up frustration was flooding out of her with each fevered swirl of her tongue inside her husband’s mouth.

Had Draco not been preoccupied, he would have sighed in satisfaction. There were kisses and then there were Hermione kisses. Nobody had ever kissed him the way that she did. If he were honest, then he’d have to say that he truly believed that nobody in the world could kiss like her. Draco had secretly taken to cataloguing the various ways that his wife kissed him. It may seem like a silly thing to do, but it was just something he did, he didn’t really know why.

Broadly speaking, there were five different types of Hermione kiss, a kiss for every occasion. Type one Hermione kisses were quick pecks, on his cheek or, more often, on his lips. Kisses such as those were normally common and mundane, but not from her. Often times in the past, people had kissed Draco like that, his mother for example, or any number of her vapid friends. More often than not, such kisses involved little more than a pressing together of the cheeks accompanied by a slightly exaggerated smacking of the lips and a silly ‘MUAH’ sound. Hermione didn’t kiss him like that. No, to her, a kiss was only a kiss if there was lip contact, even if it was just for the merest fraction of a second. Draco felt the urge to smile at that thought. Hermione was so precise and methodical, even when it came to kissing…it was…well it was her…it was why he loved her…one of the reasons why anyway.

Hermione broke their kiss and pressed her forehead against his as she greedily sucked down deep lungfulls of air. This respite didn’t last long though; it was just a brief interlude to stave off suffocation. Before Draco’s breathing had begun to slow, Hermione’s mouth sought his again, and Draco lacked the will to resist her. Hermione’s tactic changed momentarily. She became recessive, gently massaging his lips with hers, enticing him to control the kiss. Draco’s mind wandered as his body responded to his wife’s invitation. His tongue slid into her mouth and ran along the line of her teeth briefly before brushing against her organ teasingly.

The second type of Hermione kiss was deeper and more intimate. Her arms would encircle his neck as she leant up on her toes to press her lips to his gently…always gently. Just a quick brush of the lips and then she’d pause…an invitation for him to come to her. That’s what she wanted when she kissed him like that, she wanted him to claim her mouth and show her he loved her, show her that he wanted her…she wanted to be shown that he was hers and hers alone. Hermione would only ever kiss him like that when she was feeling a little insecure about something, or in was in need of a little moment of intimate attention from him, and who was he to refuse?

Hermione’s need for reassurance sated, she began to grow aggressive once again, pushing his tongue from her mouth and following it into his to resume their pitched battle for supremacy.

There was a third type of kiss, a kind that could be considered the polar opposite of a type two. Draco only ever experienced this type of kiss when his bride thought that he was the one in need of reassurance, when she thought he was upset with her, or down in the dumps for some reason. To the outside observer, Draco imagined that the type three kisses looked rather like the type twos. They started as before, with Hermione taking his head in her hands and standing on tiptoe to kiss him. The key difference was, rather than giving him an invitation to kiss her, Hermione would instead simply kiss him with a slow, burning passion and an unmistakable love that always sent chills down his spine. Draco would never admit it, not even to her, but the moments when she kissed him like that were the only moments that he really and totally felt safe and content. Those were the only times when he felt as though nothing in the world mattered other than the woman in his arms. There were never enough of those moments, but Draco imagined that’s what made them special to him.

Type four Hermione kisses were, by far, the rarest of all. Type fours were the kisses that Draco privately dubbed, ‘Apology Kisses’. They only emerged when Hermione felt as though she had done something wrong, or that she had upset him in some way. It didn’t happen often. Hermione hated being wrong, hated it more than anything in the world. She had always striven to be the best at everything she did, and her marriage was, to her, on some levels, no different than any other project. For that reason, any perceived misdemeanour, or flaw in her behaviour, was invariably followed by an immediate and very vigorous apology, accompanied by rapid, seeking, yearning, hungry kisses that, to Draco, seemed to be her attempt to draw absolution from him as a baby draws milk from the breast…

‘OK…OK Draco…’ he mentally admonished himself, ‘that’s not the best metaphor right now…this is not the time to be thinking of babies you idiot…this is a type five kiss here!’

The last category, the venerable type five kisses, were, without a doubt in the world, Draco’s favourite. Type fives only ever surfaced when Hermione wanted him…really wanted him…physically, mentally, spiritually…the works. All semblance of polite pretence was gone during a type five. There was no social restraint or feminine subtlety in her gestures toward him. All of the normal human refinements that she had been taught from birth...how to behave in public, how to act toward others and all that, they were all gone. This wasn’t his wife kissing him, not the same proper lady that all but ran the Muggle Liaison Office at the Ministry these days, not the stunningly beautiful vision of beauty that Draco was proud and still a little in awed to have on his arm at cocktail parties, this was not that creature, this was something else.

The creature that at this very moment was writhing in his lap, while kissing him with such a force and a passion that every so often left Draco with no choice but to surrender to her will and let her have her way with his mouth, this animal thing was every inch his wife, but she was more. She was primal, brutal, a thing possessed, driven by lust and pure animal instinct. Who would have believed that she could be like this? Draco certainly hadn’t at first, much to his chagrin…when he thought of what he’d been missing…

The first time he had seen this side of Hermione come to the surface, it had been all he could do to keep his sanity intact. Even as it was, now that he knew that this creature of passion lived within his beautiful wife, and knew all the ways that one could bring this part of her to the surface, even now, the slightest sign of type five Hermione was enough to wash away his self control and elevate him into a similar state of passion. Draco could feel it happening now. Moments were blending into minutes…time was losing meaning. He could feel all thought and reason slipping away with each brush of her lips on his. But no…this was not how this was supposed to be going. He had promised himself that. She wasn’t going to take this show and run away with it. He had his own ideas of what they were going to do this night. Draco had spent long hours over the last few days planning this reunion, and he was not about to let his hormones get in the way now. Summoning every ounce of his willpower, Draco brought his hands up from her waist and took hold of his wife by the shoulders. She resisted a moment, but just a moment before she allowed him to ease her face away from his.

He took a moment to look at her…just to look at this vision before him. Gods she was beautiful, the face of an angel reflecting a fiery Gryffindor soul, the heart of a lion beating within the body of a siren. How was he this lucky? This image of perfection was his, and only his…she was his wife, his mate…forever, and she was beautiful, inside and out, in every way. Draco smiled at her. Somehow, she was even prettier now as she watched him silently, waiting for him to come back for more. He knew that she would wait only so long before she would take charge again, that was the nature of their game. The were both possessed of strong, type A personalities, each perpetually seeking dominance, each desiring to be in control at all times, but more than that, each seeking the challenge of gaining dominance over the other. That was perhaps why they worked so well together. Neither would ever gave up, neither was capable of admitting defeat, and neither ever tired of the game! And oh what a game this marriage was, a non stop battle of wills, attack and defend, move and counter move, point and counterpoint…war and peace…bliss.

Hermione swallowed hard and nipped at his thumb as Draco caressed her lips. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she stared at him. Beads of sweat glistened on her brow, her hair was even wilder than normal, tossed and ruffled as it was from where his hands had been running though it not long ago, her eyes smouldering at him as she looked out from beneath eyelids that she could no longer open fully, such was her desire. His eyes took her in, caressing every feature, taking in the way her nostrils flared erratically, noticing the way that the flushed crimson of her cheeks perfectly complimented the deep pink of her lips, swollen from the exertion of their kisses. Her breath was rapid and shallow; he felt it wash hot across his skin. How sweet it could be to let that fire consume him right now…what need had he for games? Draco could almost see her pulse thumping in her neck. His eyes fixed on a tiny freckle just below her lip…he couldn’t recall seeing it before…he stared…had he just forgotten?

Had it really only been a week? It felt more like a year to him. By Merlin he had missed her, but that was the past. He was back now, and he was going to reacquaint himself with this witch…oh my how he would reacquaint himself with her.

Draco smiled with internal anticipation of what was to come as he ran a finger down along the line of the trembling artery in her throat. Hermione didn’t move. He knew without asking that she wanted to, but he also knew that she wouldn’t. She was patient, and deep inside her heart, she knew how he wanted this to go…she always knew. He supposed it came from experience. They were married and, as is the way with married couples, they had their own way of doing things. Right now, that meant a little patience from her…give a little to get a little…that was the way of things in the Malfoy-Granger household. So then, give a little…but who said play nice? Hermione turned her head to snap her teeth at his thumb again, just barely missing his wandering digit as Draco drew it back. She was too worked up for patience right now. She wanted him and she was going to get him.

That too was how the game was known to go. Fun was fun, but what Hermione wanted, Hermione got. The reverse was also true for the most part, only…was it? At times like this, Draco could never stop himself from thinking that he was giving more than he got. Something was missing, and it was only at these moments that he could feel it. There was always some part of her that remained in control all the time, a part he couldn’t touch.

Hermione grew tired of waiting, she made as though to kiss him again, but Draco stopped her, “I should go away more often,” he purred at her, rubbing her jaw line with the tip of his finger.

Hermione’s head gave a barely perceptible shake. Her mouth moved silently for a moment, and then she managed to utter, “NO!” with something resembling conviction.

Draco’s smile threatened to deepen, but he held his face in check, “Did you miss me?” he asked, in a bid to maintain some semblance of the initiative he had gained.

A tiny snarl escaped Hermione’s throat as she rolled her eyes. She took a steadying breath, and then nodded silently.

“You have to say it,” he told her, making his voice a raspy whisper.

“Do I?” she mewed in response. That was what he had been looking for, the defiance in her voice. She’d have said it if Draco had asked her to, but now that he had TOLD her to do it, never! That was her way, it wasn’t much, but still she wouldn’t give. Draco stared at her. He knew this witch, she was stubborn, and tiny flinch in her posture told him that right now she was feeling as though he was backing her into a corner. Her defences were preparing to come up between them, which wasn’t his intention at the moment.

“Well…” he said, letting a hint of mischief slip into his voice, then, after a pause, he leaned forward and whispered, “you could always just…show me!”

A tiny frown creased her brow for a moment, before Draco saw a smile spread across her lips. He could almost see the thoughts forming in her mind. She knew him as well as he knew her. And she knew he was giving her a way out. Her eyes glinted briefly as she decided to take him up on his offer. No doubt she had her own ideas on how things were to go between them tonight. Well why not? Give a little to get a little…as always.

Without a word, Hermione released her hold on his neck and slipped off his lap. Draco adjusted his position in the chair and settled in to watch his wife.

Hermione stepped back from him and turned to show him her back, she held the pose for a time, and then started to move, dancing to an internal rhythm that only she could hear. It started with her hips, a gentle sway, which in turn became a slow gyration. As Draco watched, it was as if all the bones in his wife’s slender frame were dissolving, leaving her body a single fluid mass. His body responded to her in the only way it knew how. Draco felt his pulse rush as his eyes roamed the contours of her body as her hips continued to sway and swirl hypnotically, threatening to entrance him then and there. Her movements were slow and deliberate, yet subtle and enticing at the same time. Nobody that hadn’t seen this side of Hermione Malfoy-Granger would ever believe in a million years that she could move like that. Draco smiled, it was just another thing about her that only he knew, it made her his! Every movement, every single gesture, every twist of her hips, was for him, all for him! She turned her head to show him her profile as she reached around behind her and clasped her hand firmly onto her left buttock, squeezing and teasing her own flesh in an imitation of how he knew she liked him to touch her. She sighed in a satisfied manner as her tongue snaked out of her mouth and curled in the air before turning to taste her upper lip seductively. Draco felt his chest tighten as she resumed her swaying movements.

Changing her rhythm and the movement of her hips subtly, Hermione wrapped her arms about herself and started to slowly caress her body from her waist upwards. As her hands reached the back of her head, her fingers clasped in her hair and she turned round to face him again. Her eyes met his and she gave him a single cheeky wink as she brought her fingers down to undo the top button of her shirt. She tugged her blouse open at the top, enough to reveal her cleavage to him as she swaggered forward and bent low. Her posture gave Draco a perfect view of her bosom as she leaned down to kiss him playfully on the forehead.

Unable to resist temptation, Draco reached for her, his fingers finding their way to her ass all on their own accord. Draco savoured the sensation of the touch briefly before she reacted, slapping his hand away with one hand while raising the other to wag a finger before his eyes.

“Uh-uh,” she scolded him gently, “that’s mine!”

Draco felt his spirit burn at her words… ‘Oh is it?’ His eyes became narrow slits. His was a different opinion of just who owned that piece of her…of who owned all of her for that matter. Hermione ran her hand across her rear again, making a satisfied hissing sound in the back of her throat.

“MMMM…feels nice!” she taunted him. Draco moved to touch her again, but she was too quick for him. It was as though she was waiting for him to do that. At the first sign of him moving, her hand dropped down and blocked his arm. Her finger came back up and wagged at him again in that infuriating way of hers.

“Tsk tsk…bad boy,” she teased, making him scowl at her. Hermione took hold of both of his arms at the wrists and set them firmly on the arms of the chair. Draco merely stared at her, holding her gaze. Her fingers squeezed his flesh tight as she climbed back onto his lap once more. Draco nodded slightly, her message was clear. He knew the game they were playing, and these were her rules they were following. Resolved to obey her for now, he raised his chin and gave her his most appraising stare as she rose herself up, bringing her chest to his eye level, and then slowly ran her hands down along her body, pausing to gently squeeze and caress her breasts not two inches from his eyes. Her nipples hardened at her touch and stood up to protrude through her shirt enticingly. A surge of blood rushed straight to Draco’s groin and he was forced to grip the chair very tightly to restrain himself.

Hermione smiled at him. Her hand reached down and rested lightly against his tightening crotch briefly, making his breath catch in surprise. He hadn’t expected her to touch him like that, not yet.

“This thing feels hungry,” she purred in his ear. Draco could only moan in response as her fingers gently squeezed his growing erection, testing its strength. The blissful contact lasted for only a moment, however. Much to soon for his taste, Hermione’s fingers moved to undo the button of her jeans. There was a barely audible POP as the button came free. Draco’s eyes drifted down, and were rewarded with a glimpse of pale blue knickers for their trouble. A slow clicking sound filled his world as he watched her undo her zipper with one finger. It seemed to take an age for her to release all the tiny metal tangs…

‘Muggle clothes!’ the thought exploded inside his head.

Finished with her jeans for now, Hermione teased the lace hemline of her panties for a moment, dipping the tip of one finger out of sight for the briefest of seconds. Then, with casual carelessness, her hand moved to tug his shirt free of his waistband. She then proceeded to walk her fingers up along Draco’s chest, tugging each of his buttons, but leaving them fastened. Draco didn’t know at this point what she was waiting for, but he honestly didn’t care, his mind was currently elsewhere. He felt her fingers brush against his collar for a moment before she returned her attention to herself.

Opening the second button of her blouse revealed a hint of her powder blue, lace bra to Draco’s hungry gaze. Hermione slid one slender hand inside her shirt to cup her breast. She stared down at his eyes as she moaned in pleasure. Draco’s heart missed a beat. Gods she was a tease when she wanted to be, and she knew it. His fingers itched to experience what hers were experiencing right now but he held on by a sheer act of will. This was her game for now, and she wouldn’t beat him. He would have his turn soon enough, both of them knew it.

Hermione’s hand continued to fondle her breast, while with her other hand, she reached down undid the remaining buttons on her shirt. With a deft flick of her shoulder, she cast her shirt half off, revealing her continuing ministrations to Draco’s view, kneading and pleasuring her left breast for all her worth. Draco’s groin tightened still further as he watched his wife hungrily moisten the tips of her fingers in her mouth before running them up and down the line of bare skin from her neck to her waistline, hissing and moaning all the time under her breath.

“Ungh…” she mumbled something incomprehensible as her hand disappeared beneath the waistband of her panties. Draco watched the pale blue fabric rumple as her fingers delved inside and she began to stroke her mound slowly, from front to back. Hermione moaned again as her hips rolled forward and back over and over in time with her motions. Her moaning intensified as her motions accelerated. Draco watched her suck her lip into her mouth and bite down, a sure sign that she was really enjoying herself. His jaw clenched in frustration as he watched his witch pleasure herself for him. This was torture…exquisite torture, making him burn with desire and ache with frustration, as only she could. He wanted her…Merlin he wanted her…he wanted touch her…to taste her…to consume her…if you were to offer him a million galleons at that moment, no other thought would have entered his mind. But he wouldn’t give in to temptation a second time. He was going to play this game now…and she would play his later…oh yes, she would play.

Thoughts of what was to come shattered in Draco’s mind as Hermione dropped her weight down fully into his lap and rocked her hips, grinding herself onto his manhood with a sudden intensity that bordered on the cruel. Her fingers found his nipple and squeezed. Draco’s eyes rolled back into his head and he made no attempt to stay the deep, guttural moan that her attentions stirred within him. His head rocked back, landing with a thud on the back of the chair. A second, louder moan escaped him as Hermione’s lips attacked his throat, sending sparks through his body as she kissed her way from his collar to his ear. Her teeth closed sharply on his earlobe, adding a dart of pain to the stream of pleasure she was giving him. And then she was gone!

Draco crashed headlong back to reality with a jolt. His head shot upright and his eyes slammed open, to see his Hermione walking away from him. She added an extra swagger to her hips as she padded barefoot across the floor, shedding her blouse in the process. She paused halfway across the room and bent low, taking quite a bit longer than was really necessary to wriggle out of her jeans, presenting Draco with a sight of her from behind that nearly stopped his heart then and there.

With a playful skip, Hermione kicked her pants away and straightened. She glanced at him over her shoulder, sticking her tongue between her teeth before kicking her heels and strolling almost casually to the bed. Turning to sit on the baseboard, Hermione looked at him again and raised an eyebrow as if to say – ‘What are you waiting for?’

It was a good question. Draco’s initial instinct was to leap from the chair and satisfy his burning desire for her without any further delays, but he didn’t.

‘No…no…Draco…this is not the time to rush things.’

He knew what Hermione wanted, what she always wanted when she looked at him like that. She was done teasing him now and wanted to get serious. Though she’d never say it to him, Draco imagined the thoughts that ran through her head at moments like these. She wanted to be fucked right now, and she wanted him to do it to her. Ordinarily, that knowledge alone was more than enough for Draco. He wasn’t above getting off on the sheer ego boost of knowing that his wife wanted him. She never said it, however. He supposed it was too much for her to give in to him like that, to vocalise her need for him in such a physical way…even now, it was, to her, just not done.

‘We’ll see about that!’ Draco cleared his throat to buy himself time to get his heart under control. “Lie down,” he said as calmly as he could muster.

Hermione paused, momentarily confused by his order. This wasn’t how the game was normally played; it was true, so her confusion made sense. Draco waited, but she didn’t move to obey his command until he got to his feet. When she saw him approaching her, Hermione grinned at him victoriously and slithered up along the bed until her head was resting on the pillows. Draco kept his pace slow and deliberate as he crossed the room, determined to tease her in his way just as much as she had teased him in hers. Movement caused the fabric of his pants to rub against his straining manhood, and sent chills up and down his spine, Draco savoured the sensation.

Draco reached the end of the bed and stared down at his wife before him. Her arms were spread wide and her head cocked to the side. Her cheeks had lost none of their colour. Further down, her bosom heaved as she breathed, slow and deep. A faint sheen of sweat covered her exposed abdomen. Draco could almost taste the flavour of her skin as he watched her. Then his eyes settled on her panties. There was a visible darkness on the pale fabric, a sign of just how much she had enjoyed her little game. Excellent, she was ready. This was the moment he had been planning for the last seven days, ever since he’d said goodbye to her at the train station, a moment that seemed to belong to another life. His hand slipped into his pocket and took hold of his wand. His eyes never left hers as he slowly drew it out. Hermione’s eyes darted to the wand for a moment, then she looked back to him and nodded slowly. Draco smiled as, without his needing to ask, Hermione registered his intention and gave her permission. She knew…she always knew what he wanted.

He watched patiently as Hermione arranged herself more comfortably on the bed and then spread herself out, placing her hands and feet as close as she could get them to the bedposts, smiling demurely at him all the while.

Draco returned her smile and then, at a nod from her, he carefully flicked his wand at her, muttering a spell he had used on her only rarely. Strong velvet ropes appeared from nowhere and coiled themselves tightly around Hermione’s wrists and ankles, fastening themselves securely with complicated knots. The other ends of the ropes fastened themselves just as tightly to each of the bedposts. A tiny flick of Draco’s wand and the ropes pulled taught, but not so much as to damage his precious wife.

“Comfortable?” Draco just about managed to say. The bulge in his trousers was almost painful now. Seeing Hermione bound to the bed before him was almost too much for him to bear, and knowing that she was lying there, trapped and immobile as a willing slave, just for him, was almost enough to finish him off.

The expression Hermione’s face remained constant, clearly showing her state of utter desire. Her eyes blazed with subdued fire. They called to him…urged him to satisfy her need but he didn’t move. This was his turn to tease her.

Without taking his eyes from her, Draco set his wand down on the bed and then slowly began to undo his shirt. He started with his sleeves, slowly and carefully removing his cufflinks one at a time and placing them in his pocket before he stared on the buttons. He tugged hard on each one so as to create an audible snap as he undid them. Then he slowly slid the garment off his shoulders and let it fall, forgotten, to the floor behind him. Hermione groaned aloud at the sight of his bare chest, then lifted herself as high as she could manage in her current state, the better to watch him work on his trousers.

Draco’s fingers fumbled slightly as he undid his belt buckle, but he did his best to hide the tiny slip. Then, just to tease her even more, he decided to remove the belt entirely before proceeding further. Draco wound the leather strap of his belt around his fist and then slapped it hard against the bed. The sound reverberated around the room, making Hermione jump slightly. A moment of doubt crossed her face as she tried to gauge his intentions. He had never been that rough with her before, and he had no intention of it now, but he had to admit that it pleased the darker side of his personality that, even after all this time, he could still elicit some spark of real fear from her.

There was a clatter of metal on wood as Draco tossed the belt away, and then tugged the button of his trousers open. It was a minor effort to push his pants down over the raging bulge in his boxers, but he did get an appreciative, “MMMM” from Hermione when she saw how much of a strain the silken fabric of his underwear was under. Draco kicked his shoes and his trousers off at once and retrieved his wand from the bed. He turned and walked slowly around to stand beside the bed. Hermione’s gaze followed his every movement. Draco was amused to see her eyes moving rapidly from his crotch to his face as though she wasn’t sure which she would rather admire at the moment.

“Enjoying the view?” he asked her, relishing the moment. This was where he had wanted her to be…this point…right here, and now the rules would change. Know him she might, but he was certain that she had no idea what was coming.

Hermione nodded, “Um-hmm,” she replied.

“Too bad,” Draco said, raising his wand.

Momentary confusion flashed through Hermione’s eyes in the moment before Draco uttered the spell. She let out a single startled yelp as the silken blindfold materialised over her eyes, blocking her view of the world completely.

“Dra….what…huh…Draco…” she muttered.

“Yes dear?” he replied in a chipper, carefree voice, allowing his mind to relive the moment when he had first thought of this particular variation on his favourite game. Robbing her of her sight when she was already trapped and immobile left her vulnerable, far more so than she had been expecting, and Draco knew that would scare her. He compared the anticipation he had felt then to what he was feeling now as he stooped to slip out of his boxers. He had to say that nothing, not the anticipation, not even his most torrid fantasies of what this moment would feel like, absolutely nothing compared to actually being here. Relishing the new found freedom as his erection bobbed before him in the air and watching his bound and blindfolded wife wriggle about, confused and surprised at his actions, was as ambrosia to him. His cock ached for attention and Draco wasn’t able to stop himself any longer from taking hold of it and giving it a gentle stroke to ease the pressure. His fingers caressed the head, spreading a bead of clear pre-cum all over his sensitive flesh. Draco clenched his teeth to hold in a gratified sigh as his fist encircled his shaft and began a slow downward stroke. A surge of pleasure shot through him and he hissed under his breath as his hand began to pump… “Hermione…”

Hermione heard her name and froze, “Draco….what…what are you…where are you?” she whimpered, sounding like a child missing out on a party, “…I don’t…”

Draco smiled, “Patience my love,” he stroked himself harder, pausing every once in a while to squeeze the sensitive flesh of his crown. His toes flexed against the hard wood of the floor, rocking him in place, “I’m enjoying this.”

Hermione tugged on the ropes and struggled slightly, letting out a series of frustrated moans that were like honey to his ears. That was different from her usual behaviour while tied up. Ordinarily she wouldn’t struggle against the ropes except when deep in the throes of passion. Draco shook his head; he knew what was upsetting her, and it wasn’t just the blindfold. Normally when they played this game, this bondage was their Coup de Gras. Draco enjoyed her foreplay far too much to tie her up for long, and normally only did it when he was ready to take her. That was what she had been expecting when she so willingly submitted to his will, that was what she had been willing to give, but not this time. This time, Draco had other ideas. The tightening of his manhood grew stronger. He was fast approaching the point of no return, and Draco knew it, that wouldn’t do. Hissing slightly in frustration of denying himself the release he so badly sought, Draco’s fingers tightened just below the head of his cock. He shivered slightly as the surge of orgasm stayed in his loins and his member slackened ever so slightly.

Draco moved over and sat on the edge of the bed. He reached out and traced a finger slowly along the tender skin of her inner forearm. Hermione leapt at the contact and whimpered deliciously as he drew away. Draco repeated the exercise, touching her stomach this time. His wife shuddered even more violently at his touch now, and this time he did not draw away from her. Hermione writhed and heaved as his fingers gently twirled and danced across her quivering belly.

“Mmmm…Draco…” she said encouragingly between moans, “don…don’t stop,” he mumbled in between moans.

“You like this?” he asked her as his index finger plumbed the depths of her navel, “You like to be teased?”

Hermione didn’t answer except to moan at his continued attention. That would never do. As punishment, Draco lifted his hand away from her and then watched as she bucked and strained against her ropes in protest. She knew she was being punished, she knew that all she had to do was answer him and she would be rewarded, but still she struggled, just as he would have. Restrained she may be, but not tamed, never tamed this one. Draco leaned down and kissed her gently just below her bosom, he wouldn’t have her any other way.

‘Right then,’ he thought to himself, ‘time to up the ante.’ Draco took a moment to locate his wand, and then scanned the bedroom. What he was looking for was there somewhere…on her dressing table. Draco smirked as his eyes settled on his goal, his wife’s favourite, eagle feather quill, lying neatly between her hairbrush and her jewellery case. Draco took aim with his wand and whispered,

“Accio!”

The quill leapt from the desk and sailed through the air to his waiting hand.

“What…what are you up to?” Hermione asked inquisitively, twisting in the bed and pulling at her restraints again. When Draco didn’t answer her, she slumped back down onto the bed, and chewed her lip nervously. She was nervous, aroused, but still nervous. This was uncharted territory for her, just has had been intended. Draco smiled at her, quashed a momentary doubt that this was a mistake that he would regret later, and then lowered the tip of his wand to her right breast and whispered,

“Dispellum!”

In a flash, the garment was gone, lost to oblivion. Hermione’s pert chest expanded, free of captivity. Her two perfect breasts quivered with the sudden shiver that ran through her body as she realised that she was exposed to him now. Her nipples were as two pink stones atop her breasts. Draco wanted nothing more than to suckle both of those heavenly nuggets until the end of the world, but he forced himself to be patient. All things come to those who wait. He lowered his wand to her a second time, and repeated his spell, banishing her panties to Hades along with her bra. Fully exposed and not a little uncomfortable at her situation, Hermione’s knees bent in an effort to close her legs and cover herself.

“Draco…come on…what…what are you…” she muttered nervously.

“Shhh…you’ll see,” he said in a soothing voice, “But first…tell me what you want me to do to you.”

“Wha…what do you…why are you asking?” she panted, “You know what I want you to do…”

“True enough,” Draco said, relishing every word, nodding at her as he waved the quill over her blinded eyes, “but I’d like you to tell me all the same…”

Hermione groaned slightly at him, “Oh…Draco…come on…stop messing about…”

Draco let out an exaggerated sigh, “Oh dear, oh dear,” he breathed, “I guess I’ll just have to give you a little incentive…”

Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but her words were lost in a startled squeal as Draco brought the soft tip of the quill down and rubbed it along the line of her hipbone.

“What…WHAT are you doing?” Hermione yelped.

Draco ignored her words and carried on. With wicked enjoyment, he continued to trail the feather in short, random strokes across her stomach, her legs, her throat, wherever his fancy took him. He never let it linger in any one place too long before moving on, seeking another spot to terrorise. At each of his touches, Hermione leapt and squealed. Draco’s grin was constant now, fuelled by the intimate knowledge of just how ticklish his wife was. That, of course was why he had decided on this particular form of entertainment. Hermione’s sub-vocal protests continued unabated. Goosebumps appeared on her skin wherever the feather touched her. The bed creaked and groaned as Hermione’s fists closed on her bonds and she pulled them with all her might.

“Dra…draco….” she moaned.

“You want me to stop?” Draco asked her cheekily as Hermione slumped back onto the mattress after a particularly energetic spasm, “All you have to do is say so…”

“Yes…” she hissed, flinching as the feather circled her breast, “yes…stop…stop…come…come on…”

Give a little to get a little…Draco shook his head. She was trying to buy her freedom, but it wouldn’t be that easy for her. Still, she had done as he asked of her, so he had to play fair. Temporarily satisfied with the partial victory, Draco dropped the quill and moved on to phase two. Sensing the change in him, Hermione settled. She lay still, flushed and panting beneath him as he turned and climbed onto the bed. As he assumed the dominant position, Draco felt his body tremble with burning desire to take his witch…his mate without further delay. Gods she was gorgeous at that moment, he should have done this years ago. Hermione seemed to sense his presence above her, the heat of his body seemed to settle her somewhat, as though she believed that he was finally ready to end this game.

“Hermione,” he whispered to her. “You still haven’t told me what do you want?”

Hermione didn’t answer him. Draco leaned down and kissed her beside her ear, “I want to hear it, Hermione…I want you to say it…here…right here…like this…I want you to tell me what you want me to do to you,” he paused, preparing himself to finally vocalise what he wanted her to do, “I want you to beg me for it.”

The continual whimpering from his wife became an outraged hiss at that. A bolt of anger shot through her. Draco didn’t need to see her eyes to know that she was glaring at him. Those were forbidden words. She did not beg…of all else, she would not to that. That was the thing he lacked from her, the one thing that she had never given him.

The muscles of Hermione’s jaw clenched silently as Draco leaned in and kissed her temple again. He knew that beneath everything else, she was enjoying this, but still she remained silent, just as Draco knew she would. Defiant till the end…that was why he loved her. A third kiss landed on the skin of her neck, then a fourth below it, and a fifth, and a sixth. Draco lost count as he kissed his way down her neck, each kiss lasting longer than the last as he forced himself to be patient and savour the moment. By the time Draco reached her collar-bone, he could no longer fight the urge to use his teeth on her, biting and nipping at her skin. His tongue seemed to take on a mind of its own, it darted out of his mouth at random intervals to taste her. Each tiny bead of sweat dispersing on his taste buds sent a shiver up Draco’s spine. Was this woman made of pure honey? Or was he just imagining it? Draco didn’t care.

Her earlier wanton protests forgotten, Hermione lifted herself to meet his every gesture, always waiting, always wanting more. Draco ached at each contact. He was growing more and more desperate to claim her completely with each passing moment, but he would win this game…he would hear her say the words he longed to hear, he had to.

Draco shifted his weight on to his right elbow as his trail of kisses reached the top of her breast. His now free left hand slowly made its way to her thigh. His fingers tightened possessively on her flesh, before they started on what he hoped was a maddeningly random path northward to balance his lips southerly advance. The skin of Hermione’s bosom was soft and inviting, she trembled deliciously as his Draco continued exploring her. Abandoning simple kisses for the moment, Draco stuck out his tongue and began tracing a slow, spiralling course up the rise of her breast. This provoked exactly the reaction he had hoped for. Hermione’s hips rose underneath him as her body fruitlessly sought to draw his attention to the heart of its desire. His fingers brushed the underside of her breast gently before beginning a swirling pattern, matching that of his tongue on its sister.

Again and again, his fingers and tongue circled her nipples, drawing ever closer with each pass until he was brushing the edges of her inflamed areolas constantly. Hermione’s breathing seemed to have stopped altogether now. She seemed instead to be vibrating beneath him, as though trembling with anticipation. Draco couldn’t stop the satisfied grin from spreading across his face as he lowered his mouth to capture her nipple. Hermione bucked like a scaled donkey beneath him as he trapped her hard little nugget between his teeth and laved it hard with the flat of his tongue while at the same time, squeezing and gently twisting her left nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

Draco pulled his head back, holding onto her nipple with his teeth until her skin could stretch no more and it was tugged from his grasp. He paused for a moment to blow cold air across the now moist and tender bud, getting a gratifying shudder from Hermione in return.

“What do you want me to do, Hermione?” he asked again, reminding her passion numbed brain of what was really going on. His hand turned to rest gingerly on her skin as he continued to swirl her nipple beneath his thumb.

Hermione’s back arched and her head turned to face him. He could tell that she was staring at him from behind her blindfold, still refusing to surrender to him.

‘Brilliant!’ Draco thought. He would have been a little disappointed if that had been all it took for her to give in, “Ok then…” he said, trying to sound bored, “Well, you know how to end this. It’s up to you…whenever you want me to stop…just tell me…”

Hermione let out a frustrated growl and let her head fall back onto the pillows. Draco grinned again and resumed his play. His hand remained at her breast, pressing his palm down onto the full of her bosom and squeezing gently every now and then, while he moved his more direct attention further downward.

His lips, tongue and teeth left a trail of moist and reddened skin behind them as Draco kissed and nibbled his way from her breast, down across her stomach. He paused at her belly button, letting his tongue circle the small cleft and then delve inside, savouring once more the flavour of her skin. He continued downward, noticing once again that her body was tensing up in anticipation as he neared the verge of her nest of auburn curls. He could smell her scent now, thick in the air as he neared her sex.

‘Gods, she must be dripping for me,’ he said to himself, and not without a good deal of pride. Draco’s lips came down on her flesh again, and encountered the soft down of her patch, yet he didn’t stop kissing her…not yet. Again and again he lowered his position until his mouth was nestled in the very heart of her delicious curls. Draco raised his eyes to see her whole body rising with each breath she sucked into her lungs, yet her hips remained still. He wondered at the level of control that would take. She wouldn’t give in, but she was a quick study. Just as always, she was showing how well she knew him. She knew his game now, and she knew that moving her hips would not get her the satisfaction she craved. That would only mean that he’d draw away from her as punishment, and so she was keeping still in an attempt to coax him into losing control and giving her what she wanted.

‘Clever girl!’ Draco mentally applauded her.

It was a good tactic. Draco was a man after all, and if there is one thing that no man can resist, it’s the desire of a willing woman. Many a time, Draco had cursed whatever power it was that had given men form for making the unfathomable decision to place the libido in higher authority within the male psyche than rational thought. Regardless of how angry a man was, or how high the personal cost to him was, a smile and a wink from the right girl was all it took for them to acquiesce. Draco hated that weakness in his own make-up. It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t right, and it wasn’t happening this time!

Draco shifted his position on the bed again, bringing Hermione’s sex into full, glorious view. He had been right about how wet she was. Even despite her defiant anger, he could see that she was actually dripping. Her upper thighs bore a thick coat of her delicious fluid, just calling at him, seeking to be savoured. Some of her excitement had started to drip down onto the bed. The sheet beneath her now bore a similar dark patch to the one on her long lost underwear. A shame that, what a waste.

Pursing his lips, Draco exhaled gently, sending a waft of cool air across her. Hermione groaned aloud, a sound Draco had never heard her make before. He couldn’t even imagine how she was feeling right now. He had never been anywhere near this aroused without finding some way to relieve it. Such was her arousal that her whole body shuddered and twitched violently even as his breath brushed against her trembling folds. This was going to be the icing on this particular cake. Draco licked his lips in anticipation and then set to work.

Hermione’s burning sex called to him, but Draco resisted. Using the last remaining shreds of his self-control, he avoided kissing her centre directly. Instead he turned his attention to the damp and slick skin surrounding it. Hermione moaned and hissed from above him as he slowly and methodically licked first one thigh, then the other clean of her juices, smacking his lips audibly with each lick. Hermione’s body continued to tense and vibrate at his touch, her building arousal was mirrored by his own. Draco had to keep repositioning himself so that his cock wasn’t brushing against the bed, even that tiny friction was a threat to him. By the time his tongue had moved up and started to wash her curls free of her fluid, he was forced to repeat his earlier restraining manoeuvre, squeezing his orgasm back into his cock.

And still not a word from her. Merlin, what would it take? Draco’s mind was blank. He had only one card left to play. Positioning his head right above her pussy, Draco let his tongue lash out. It was the briefest of touches, less than half a second against her slit, but it was enough. Hermione let out a strangled yelp and then bellowed,

“OH FUCK DRACO….PLEASE…DRACO…PLEASE…FUCK ME DRACO!”

Draco felt his heart fill with elation. Those words from the mouth of his perfect wife were like the song of an angel to him. It didn’t matter how much effort he had had to put in before she said it, all that mattered was that she said it! He never truly realised just how much he had yearned to hear her say them until that very moment. Now she was his…truly…madly…honestly…completely his forever!

Without hesitating a moment longer, Draco pressed his mouth forward, driving his tongue out hard into her opening. He pushed it in as far as it would go and then swirled it back out again, touching as much of her as he possibly could before pulling back out and lapping hungrily at the full length of her slit with the flat of his tongue. Draco didn’t leave her empty for long. His finger worked its way into the depths of her, sending a rapid vibration through her birth canal. Hermione practically squealed in relief as Draco’s tongue found and then started to swirl around her clitoris. The swollen lump was so engaged that it almost burned Draco’s tongue as he rolled it unceasingly between his lips and tongue. Her flavour poured into his waiting mouth and Draco drank deep of his wife’s desire. Her climax was near; Draco could feel it in the way her body responded to him. Draco wanted to taste more of her. He traded his fingers for his tongue, pressing his finger into her clit and rolling it in circles as his tongue delved once more to lap up her steadily flowing passion.

Hermione whimpered and moaned in pleasure, and then, almost breathlessly, she said,

“No…no…Draco….please…FUCK ME…I want…you…to….AHH…fuck me.”

Draco’s head came up. Hermione was lying flat on the bed, her lips still moving in breathless pleas for him. He licked his lips and smiled. What Hermione wanted, Hermione got.

Rising to all fours, Draco crawled up along the length of his wife’s body, pausing only to kiss a choice spot or to. His manhood, long since returned to full readiness, burned with anticipation. Draco positioned himself above her. His crown brushed against her mound and Hermione bucked for him. Draco lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her as he lowered his hips, rubbing the length of his shaft against her trembling slit. Even at this contact, he could feel the heat from inside her.

Draco’s lips and tongue spread Hermione’s nectar across her mouth as he kissed her. He was pleased to see her willingly licking her lips, tasting herself with wicked abandon. His cock came to rest against her opening,

“Say it again, Hermione,” he commanded her, desperate to savour every moment of this, “Say it now and I’ll do it!”

Hermione moaned at him, “Please…fuck me Draco…fuck me now…please!”

She did as she was told, and she was rewarded. With those words echoing in his ears, Draco finally gave her what she wanted. With one strong thrust, he buried himself within her. Hermione rose up to meet him, bringing them together with a crushing finality. The muscles of her pelvic floor quivered and clenched, clutching onto his manhood as Draco drew back. He drew himself out as far as he dared before thrusting hard into her again, letting out a hard groan as he seated himself within her once more. He could never remember feeling this good inside his wife. She was so slick and wet inside, while still gripping him as tightly as she ever had, tighter even.

Heat from within her seeped into him, Draco felt it spread up from his groin as he began to build up a rhythm. Hermione stayed with him, timing her own motions with his as he built up speed. With each thrust, Hermione bucked her hips upward hard, meeting his body strength for strength. The muscles of her pelvic floor tightened each time he drew back, squeezing him in an attempt to keep him within her.

“Yes…yes…Draco…yes…fuck me…yes,” the words flooded from her mouth in a continual stream. Draco drank them in, burning each syllable into his memory as his body took care of itself. He began to rock his hips from side to side, varying the angle of his penetration continually. Hermione yelped sporadically as he connected with a particularly sensitive spot inside her. Her words gave way to incomprehensible moans. The movement of her hips slowed. Draco could feel the beginnings of orgasm start within her. Her muscles began to grip him harder with each thrust.

The pressure in Draco’s groin returned, and this time there would be no stopping it. His thrusts grew faster and faster, his rhythm faltered as his release neared.

“Come Hermione,” he commanded, his eyes rolling into his skull. The tension in his groin was irresistible now. She would come…she had to come…he wasn’t going to bring her all this way and then not get her off, “Come for me Hermione,” he repeated as his cock gave the first twitch of orgasm within her. He couldn’t hold off any longer. His balls clenched as his seed spilled forth within her. Hermione whimpered, sensing his orgasm. “Come Hermione…come for me…please!”

As Draco’s command dissolved into an order, he got his wish. Hermione’s body tensed under him. Her head threw backwards as her arms and legs locked tight, rising both of them up from the mattress. Draco buried himself as deep into her as he could and gave in to his orgasm completely. Wave after wave of electricity rocked his senses as he emptied himself into his wife. Her pussy clenched and pulsed, milking him of every last drop before they quitted.

Spent and exhausted, the both flopped down onto the bed. With Draco’s climax, the spell binding Hermione was broken. Her bonds dissolved and she was free. Still connected to her, Draco felt his wife’s arms coil around his shoulders as he lay, panting against the side of her neck.

“I love you, Hermione,” he whispered to her when he managed to catch his breath.

“I love you too, Draco,” she replied, her voice raspy. Draco moved his arms to hold her more securely.

It was a long time before either could do anything but lie there. As his breathing slowed to normal, Draco began to feel guilty for what he had just put her through. She didn’t seem to mind, yet the feeling remained. By way of an apology, he moved his head just enough to let him kiss her chin. Hermione’s eyes fluttered open; she had been near sleep it seemed. Her fingers trailed up his spine to intertwine in his hair. Tugging gently on his blonde locks, she called him to her. Draco lifted brought his mouth to hers and kissed her gently. Draco brushed his lips against hers, opening his mouth in an invitation to her. To his surprise, Hermione didn’t accept the invitation as she normally would. For a moment, the terrifying thought that he had crossed some line with her occurred to him. Then, to his relief, her tongue came forward to taste his lips tentatively. Draco responded to her, reaching out to taste her in the same way. Hermione’s tongue flicked out against his, inviting further exploration. Draco responded in kind, taking another gentle taste of her lips.

They continued in this manner for a time, each teasing and coaxing the other, both content to simply enjoy one another. In the end, it was Hermione that broke the kiss, pulling him into a tight embrace. Draco didn’t object, content now to simply lie in her arms.

“You know what?” Hermione asked him after a long silence.

“Hmmm?” Draco replied, drawn from his semi-slumber by the sound of her voice.

“I think maybe you should go away more often!”

The resulting fit of giggles echoed long into the night.