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Fuse

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Fuse:

(noun)

Material along which a small flame moves to explode a bomb or firework.

 

 

Being an unrepentant shit disturber was one of Draco Malfoy's best attributes.

As socially important as his impeccable fashion sense, his ability to out-smirk anyone, and his sexy physique, the talent to positively annoy others had been, he was sure, hereditarily coded into him upon conception. It was the one thing he positively excelled at without fail in his life, and was the easiest thing in the world for him to fall back upon when facing tough social opposition. The best defence was, he'd always believed, behaving offensively.

Therefore, he’d made it his life’s priority to, at least once a day disrupt someone's good mood with a completely random, totally awful comment.

For shites and giggles, Draco often practiced this God-given talent on the irritating and the dim – read: Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. Sometimes though, behaving in such a manner provided him an even better opportunity than egging on the Dunce Cap Duo – one he'd found himself craving more and more of each time it succeeded: to enjoy a little angry sex with Hermione Granger.

The woman was a lioness in bed. Well, actually, against walls and on top of desks and over sofas and in chairs (he hadn’t actually had her in a bed, yet). She clawed, she bit, she sucked, she squeezed, and she was openly, unapologetically loud when she orgasmed (who'd have guessed the Bookworm was a screamer?). Having her come apart all over and around him was magnificent. The best sex of his life, actually-

-which explained why he tried to provoke a repeat as much as possible. Like now, as they sat across from each other in silence, studying for tomorrow's English Lit exam.

As anyone smitten by Hermione Granger could testify, however, she was not an easy woman to fancy. A man had to fight for the right to possess her in any manner, especially in a manner that was guaranteed to make her give up her tightly-held control.

After two years of friendship, one year of unrequited love, and five months of an occasional “with benefits” arrangement between them to pace the way, though, Draco now knew a closely guarded secret about her – one that guaranteed him an ‘in’ with her every time: in the hidden vaults of Hermione’s heart, she wasn’t willing to submit to any lover unless he was willing to submit to her as well. She didn’t believe in one-sided feelings, and refused to let a man get away with being emotionally distant while she gave him her all.

That was just fine by Draco. He'd already jumped the sanity rail the day they'd shaken hands and agreed to give things a clean slate soon after realizing they were taking the same curriculum here at Uni. Then he'd had his mind blown the first time they'd fucked. He figured he might as go all in and reap the full benefits of his inconvenient (but not unwelcome) feelings for Granger.

Which brought him to the present…

He’d just spent the last half-hour licking his lips and playing with his long bangs, two things he knew Granger enjoyed watching. Tragically, she wasn’t biting this time, though, too engrossed in her studies to give more than a cursory glance his way.

Right, then, he’d just try a little harder.

With blatant lust, he stared at the amazing cleavage shot she was unintentionally providing him, hoping to get her attention that way instead. The attractive, green (his favourite colour on her) dress-shirt with the top three buttons undone was a gift from him last Christmas, and she wore it like a pro. However, right then, he wanted nothing more than to rip the bloody thing apart, watch the buttons fly, and have her pull his face right into her breasts in a silent plea to take things all the way between them once again.

After ten minutes, he gave up the leering when it was clear she was oblivious. Her books had her captivated once more.

Well, he’d just have to pull out the big guns then…

Sticking the right approach on the first try was the key to properly seducing Hermione. Draco knew all he had to do was to start an argument over a subjects she was particularly impassioned about -the rights of the subaltern, revisionist history, the law and power-grabbing by the elite, and the very sensitive topic of gender roles in society- and he could unravel her like poorly–wrapped gauze.

The trick was in correctly estimating just how much to push right out the gate, though. Too little, and her interest would quickly fizzle as she turned to more stimulating things to occupy her mind (like reading). Too much, and her fury would completely override her libido's call (and put him on the receiving end of one of her nastier hexes).

Fortunately, Draco had been born for such a challenge. He was, as mentioned previously, aces at stirring up trouble…

 “I’ve decided ‘Taming of the Shrew’ is my favourite of Shakespeare’s stories. Petruchio is a Slytherin sex god. I worship him.”

As expected, Hermione's glance flickered to him over the top of her book. Her brow furrowed in the beginning stages of annoyance – first because he’d interrupted her reading, and second with such a ridiculous statement, said out of the blue.

“Do you want me to assure you can’t produce an heir, Malfoy? I can do it, you know.”

Draco fought off the triumphant smirk that desperately attempted to tackle his lips, and focussed on maintaining a bland expression. Appearances were everything in this game, and one tiny wrinkle at the corner of his mouth could blow the whole thing.

Keeping his tone as sincere as possible, he pushed a little harder. “I further believe I'd relish the opportunity to train my own version of a Katherina. To bring a stubborn, unpleasant harpy to heel and to teach her that obedience to her husband is the most important attribute in a marriage would be a magnificent triumph!”

A muscle in Hermione's cheek twitched.

TICK!

"Are you having a Tourette’s moment, or is this one of those bizarre flashbacks to Pureblood Primary again?"

Damn, the woman was a spitfire… and didn’t that just turn him on all the more. Clearly, he’d have to try harder to crack her nut, though, as she seemed determined to hold onto her control.

“Barefoot and pregnant is a good look for your gender.”

Her eyes narrowed in warning.

TICK!

“Keep it up and I’ll Conjunctivitis Curse you somewhere sensitive.”

He ignored the threat entirely. “Did you know I’m planning on running for Minister on the platform that all women be required by law to wear a collar with their man’s name on it?”

The tap-dancing, chortling devil inside his chest as he watched her reaction to his outrageous provocation was almost too much to contain.

Predictably incensed, with cheeks flaming red and dark eyes flashing fire and nipples fully erect through the fabric of her blouse, she sat forward in her chair and snarled, “Ginny taught me a good Castration Hex recently. Care to see it?”

TICK!

Ho-ho-ho, she was his! Just one more push…

“You know, you remind me exactly of Katherina in the play: a swotty, little hellion who needs to learn her proper place.”

Her book slammed shut and was tossed aside.

WIN!

"And I suppose you're going to say the predictable and tiresome cliché that a woman's proper place is warming your flea-ridden bed?"

A dark, exultant smile slid across his lips.

"No, it's bent over my knee, bare arse in the air."

BOOM!

 

X~~~~~X

 

How they got back to Hermione's flat without splinching was a miracle as far as Draco was concerned, as neither he nor Hermione was inclined to give much concentration to anything except ripping into each other.

The moment they appeared in her living room, though, things really became frenzied.

Gripping the edges of her blouse, he tore it straight up the divide, just as he'd fantasized, and attacked her exposed throat with his teeth. "I love this spot," he growled as he suckled and marked the tender skin directly above her pounding pulse. "Right here, this spot is all mine."

She'd gripped the hem of his shirt, pulling it free from his trousers, and struggled to yank it up and off of him. "You wish," she panted, tossing his shirt to the floor once it cleared his head and arms.

He bit her harder just to prove his point, and smoothed his hands up her waist to cup her barely-covered breasts, stroking over her skin. Hermione arched into him and he felt the edges of her bra… It was her best one: dark green satin with black French edging. The one he'd purchased for her two months ago.

"Are you wearing the matching set?"  

"No," she answered around sucking on his earlobe, her fingers making quick work of his belt. "And I didn't wear it just for you, either."

A chuckle rumbled through his chest as her implication became clear. "My naughty, naughty girl, I love it when you lie."

He shucked her shirt and left the bra in place, pulling the cups down to expose her hard, beige nipples. His thumbs feathered over them and she gasped with pleasure. He pinched them and rolled with expert touch, knowing the exact pressure to heighten her arousal. She made an adorable, "Oh!" noise.

"Like that?" he teased.

"Yesssss," she hissed under her breath.

“Again?”

She whimpered.

He obeyed her need, lightly tugging until her sweet nips were prominent against his palms.

Hermione dug her fingernails into his shoulders and let her head loll back. She gave a deep, throaty moan of approval.

Draco pressed his mouth to her ear as if he were imparting a secret and whispered to her, as he knew she liked. "Do you want me to touch your pussy now? Put my fingers inside you and fuck you until you come all over my hand? Or would you rather I press my tongue against your clit?"

She shook in his arms as he wrapped them around her waist and pulled her in tight.

"Can I have you again today, Granger?" he asked, completing their ritual.

They may desire each other like animals, but in this one thing, Draco behaved the gentleman. If she told him ‘no’, he’d back off. He would never force sex on a woman, especially this woman.

She licked her lips and swallowed hard. "Yes. Take me to bed, Draco. Right now."

With a pull of strength, he had her up in his arms, and carried her bridal style through the open door of her bedroom. He kicked the door shut behind him, unsure if her Floo was active or not, much too jealous a man to allow an accidental witness to what he was going to do to her.