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The Dragon and the Rose

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I’m not a girl with a lot of hang-ups. It doesn’t bother me to break social conventions or act in ways other people might consider inappropriate. My dad says it is because I’m a ‘free spirit’. My mum thinks it’s because I was born without the genes that control modesty and shame. I tell her, ‘nurture not nature.’

 

Despite my Mum’s concern, I’ve never found my lack of inhibitions to be a negative, except maybe in the third year when I set the all-time Hogwarts record for number of detentions received in a single term. I don’t think I saw the light of day once all spring. That was the same year my cousin Fred was Head Boy. Uncle George and my mum did a lot of commiserating around that time about the complete and total inaccuracy of the saying: ‘You reap what you sow’.

 

Nevertheless, since leaving Hogwarts I’ve lived by three rules.

 

1. Don’t cheat at Quidditch

2. Don’t eat anything Mum cooks the Muggle way.

3. Don’t sleep with your roommate’s father.

 

It was a simple code. Easy to follow and remember. At least, it had been easy until a few months ago, when I broke rule number three. I broke it several times, actually, in several different rooms of my flat. What bothers me most is the fact that I’m not all that bothered by breaking my own rule, which undoubtedly says something negative about my character, or lack thereof.

 

The tale of my moral corruption really started when my best mate and I decided to move in together after graduation. He wanted to live in Muggle London surrounded by non-magical people for the ‘experience’. I swear the boy bases all his big, life-altering decisions on what is most likely to further his future aspiration to become Minister of Magic. I don’t think he would have even become my friend first year, if I hadn’t been the daughter of two war heroes. He just rolls his eyes at me whenever I suggest such a thing out loud. “Rose, if I was worried about other people’s perceptions, I would have stopped hanging out with you years ago,” he always tells me.

 

Anyways, this thing between his dad and me began like a bad porn film. I’d walked out of the bathroom wrapped only in a towel, when I’d heard moaning coming from the sitting room. I had a fairly good idea what the sound meant. I’d recently figured out how to steal cable from the upstairs neighbor and Scorpius had become addicted to the HBO series, ‘G-String Divas’. In fact, I’d been taking the mickey out on him ever since discovering him tossing off through his trousers once while watching the show.

 

“Oi, Malfoy,” I’d yelled walking toward the sound of the telly. “How about a new house rule requiring all wanking be done in our private bedrooms?”

 

Imagine my shock and surprise when I turned the corner and discovered it was the elder Malfoy, rather than Scorpius, who was sitting on the davenport, cock in hand.

 

The man didn’t blush at my intrusion; he just kept running his fingers up and down his erect length. Any normal girl, someone born with a modicum of modesty, would have run from the room in embarrassment. However, all I could think about was whether his indifference to having been caught or the way he was appreciatively taking in my lack of clothing was more erotic.

 

“Well, well,” he had drawled. “It looks like the spawn of the Weasel and the Mudblood is all grown up.” I was so flattered by his obvious interest that I ignored the slurs against my parents.

 

“I was all grown up three months ago when you saw me at graduation,” I’d replied sarcastically, trying hard to keep my eyes on his face rather than on what his hand was doing.

 

“Hum… I suppose that the packaging makes all the difference.”

 

If he hadn’t been so mature and I hadn’t been desperate to appear grownup, I definitely would have starting giggling thinking about his ‘package,’ unwrapped and visible for me to see. Instead, I just smirked and threw him a wink, before turning to head toward my room.

 

“Ms. Weasley,” he’d called before I could move. “Surely, you don’t intend to abandon me after getting me in this predicament?”

 

I’d turned back around slowly, not quite believing what I’d just heard. “I did not get you into any predicament, Mr. Malfoy. You got yourself all hot and bothered.”

 

“Ah, but dear girl, you interrupted me before I was finished and now my visual stimulation has vanished.” He’d inclined his head toward the telly.

 

I’d glanced toward the set and saw the credits were scrolling. Whatever he had been watching was obviously over. “You could always just tuck it away and count yourself extraordinarily unlucky,” I mocked. Sometimes the shite that comes out of my mouth astounds even me. However, it didn’t seem to have the same affect on him.

 

“Or, you could drop the towel and assist me in relieving the pressure.”

 

“Actively assist or virtually assist?”

 

“Yes,” he grinned. Something in my stomach clenched in anticipation at the meaning behind his words. Sweet Merlin above, the man was appealing, even when being an arrogant, presumptuous, and sardonic sod.

 

And then -- I swear I don’t know what happened – my fingers completely stopped functioning and whatever grip they had on the towel loosened causing the terry cloth to drop to the floor. I stood there, naked as the day James and Albus stole my clothes from the Slytherin locker room after we had beat Gryffindor for the fourth year in a row, and waited for him to react.

 

I’d not had to wait long. He’d lifted an eyebrow and although his hand had stopped moving his cocked twitched. Sure, it was involuntary, but it was more gratifying that way. He wanted me. Maybe he’d have wanted any girl, who’d been standing naked in front of him, but it was me standing there, me he was looking at, me who had caused his eyes to darken with lust. It was an occasion I had no desire to resist.

 

“Is this helping?”

 

“You can help more,” he smirked, his hand starting to move again.

 

“How?”

 

“Step closer and let me see you touch yourself.”

 

His suggestion surprised me. The few guys I’d been with previously would have been much cruder in the same situation. Maybe he acted calculatingly because he was older, a man with experience, who didn’t feel the need to rush things. Whatever the cause, it made my stomach tingle. I slipped my hand between my legs and began to rub my fingers lightly against the growing wetness.

 

He groaned and then ordered me to come closer.

 

I took two steps forward. Near enough for him to reach out and touch me. His eyes were focused on my fingers. I focused on his face. He wasn’t handsome, but it his features were striking in their harsh lines and angles. His eyes met mine and it suddenly felt like something broke lose inside of me. It was as if there had been a tremendous bang, which caused everything to shift slightly. Emotions that had been somewhat off and had not felt exactly right were now lined up perfectly.

 

I’m not sure which of us moved first, but in just seconds I was straddling his torso, posed above him. His hands were on my hips, his fingers tracing circles along the skin near the bottom of my back. He leaned forward to place his lips against my neck, licking and biting it gently. I moaned as his movements caused his cock to brush against my upper thigh.

 

The entire situation reeked of wickedness. I half expected him to ask if I was sure about this, if I wanted to continue. But those questions never came. Instead, his hands began to guide my hips down, while he thrust upwards. He was soon sheathed deeply inside me. It felt amazing being stretched and filled by him. By the way he closed his eyes and threw his head back I can almost guarantee that he felt similarly overcome.

 

Placing my hands on his shoulders, I began to raise and lower myself upon him. The friction was exquisite. As I began to increase my speed, he dug his fingers into my hips and bum, all the while whispering the filthiest things in my ear. I leaned forward so that my breasts brushed against his still clothed chest with every upward motion. My nipples soon grew sensitive from the contact.

 

I increased the speed of our coupling, thrilled by his throaty groans of pleasure. Soon I too was making the most wanton noises, calling out to Merlin in mindless bliss. Malfoy began to tense, his eyes clenched shut, and I felt him jerk inside me two, then three times. His head fell forward onto my shoulder and he fought to bring his breathing under control. I wanted to scream in frustration because I was not done, the spot between my legs still burned and ached.

 

I wiggled in his lap and quickly became acquainted with the benefit of fucking an older man. Rather than blushingly apologize for his inability to bring me off or even failing to recognize the fact, Malfoy snaked his hand between us. His thumb and forefinger pulled at my clit, while his other fingers stroked in and out of my vagina. It wasn’t long before I was thrashing in his arms, calling out loudly as I came.

 

When I’d caught my breath and opened my eyes, it was to see him smirking. “I must say, Ms. Weasley, you’ve quite made my morning.”

 

I smirked back. “Likewise, Mr. Malfoy.” Scrambling off his lap, I retrieved my towel and wrapped it around myself. Reaching up and touching my hair, I grimaced. It had begun to dry before I’d had a chance to comb it. It would be completely unmanageable for the rest of the day.

 

“Leave it,” he said gently, moving past me toward to the Floo. “It looks good like that.” He had straightened his robes, cast a cleaning charm, and now looked as unflappable as usual. “Tell Scoripus I stopped by and that his mother expects him at the Manor for brunch Sunday.” He then took a pinch of Floo powder and with a wink left my flat for his office.

 

I chalked up my encounter with Malfoy as an interesting one-off. Pursuing anything else with him was completely out of the question. He was my best mate’s father, he was married, he was a good quarter-of-a-century older than me, and my mum and dad hated him. Any ONE of those reasons should have been enough to warn me away from the man. And I really did plan on keeping my distance, even if my mind continued to betray me by replaying the scene in the sitting room over and over.

 

Obviously, Malfoy did not have the same stead-fast resolve as I. Wednesday morning, soon after Scorpius had left for work, an arm reached from around my back while I was cooking eggs and pulled me against the tall length of person who had occupied my recent fantasies. “Your son isn’t here,” I informed him in what I hoped as a snotty tone. I haven’t had much practice in my life being snotty, however, so it may have sounded a bit breathless and sulky.

 

“Good,” he’d replied, pressing his lips hotly against my neck.

 

And because I wanted to hear him say it, I asked the obvious question. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company, if you aren’t here to see Scorpius?”

 

“I’ve missed you,” he replied softly, as one of his hands moved up my shirt and the other stroked the side of thigh.

 

I am positive he thought I’d be flattered. “Missed me? You don’t even KNOW me.” The snappy comeback was warranted, in my opinion, because seriously did the man really think he could Floo over anytime he felt like a shag and I’d just cater to his libido?

 

“Then I insist we remedy that situation,” he growled against my shoulder, placing wet kisses around the neckline of my t-shirt.

 

“I’m not sure this is a good idea,” I’d admitted to him, remembering the list of reasons I’d created about why pursuing anything with Malfoy senior was hazardous.

 

“Let me convince you that it isn’t necessarily a bad idea,” he muttered, wandlessly turning off the stove. Evidently, my lack of response was all the encouragement he needed to slip one hand up to clutch at my breasts, while his other delved into my shorts.

 

I suspect that many people, had they been in my place, would have jerked away and told him to sod off. And honestly the idea did flash through my mind. However, the thought was ruthlessly trussed up and beaten to death by my other thoughts, which were focused on enjoying the pleasure that his seeking fingers were conveying to my body. Within minutes my knickers were soaked and I was moaning in time to every pull and pinch at my nipples.

 

Deciding he’d done enough persuading, Malfoy pushed down my shorts and knickers, and in one motion, turned me around to face him. His lips caught mine in what was our first kiss, and he thrust his tongue deep into my mouth. His tongue was demanding, not content to probe my recesses, he insisted upon a response – pressing and prodding until I pushed back. He was so compelling that when he withdrew his tongue, mine followed into his mouth. He tasted of juice, toast, and something undeniably male.

 

With a groan, he twisted us around and began backing me up until I knocked into the kitchen table. “Shite,” I muttered, breaking our kiss, and rubbing my hip.

 

He just grinned in a predatory manner that set my heart beating even faster than it had been previously. Placing his hands on either side of my waist, he lifted me up so that I was sitting on the edge of the table. I expected him to drop his trousers and begin fucking me, but he had something else in mind. I was surprised and astonished when he pushed me back until my torso was propped up by my elbows. He pulled up a chair so that his nose was even with my vagina. His fingers then began to spread my folds and within a few seconds I felt his hot mouth on my clit.

 

The sensations he was inspiring in me were mind-bending staggering. Only one boy had ever gone down on me before. Unfortunately, his fumbling fingers and running commentary on my smell, taste, and texture, had prevented me from enjoying the experience. Draco Malfoy, on the other hand, must have taken N.E.W.T. level classes in cunnilingus, because I could not string two coherent thoughts together while his tongue was lapping at me. I barely remember raising my hips, seeking more pressure against my clit. He must have complied with my unspoken demand, because soon after I was coming with deep, throaty gasps.

 

When I opened my eyes, it was to see him watching me with an arch smile. “That in and of itself was worth the price of admission,” he teased.

 

I struggled to sit up. “Does that mean you’re leaving?” I inquired, cringing a bit at how disappointed I sounded.

 

“Not if I get a better offer,” he replied, waggling his eyebrows as if he were a much younger man.

 

I couldn’t help but giggle as I slipped off the table to kneel between legs. It was my turn to stroke his thighs. I let my fingers brush lightly against his erection. “I’m not sure that I could do anything that would interest you,” I taunted him.

 

“Oh I don’t know, Red. Lately everything you do interests me.”

 

“Red?”

 

“Ms. Weasley seems a little too formal given our recent encounters.”

 

“What’s wrong with Rose?”

 

“It doesn’t fit you. It’s too Victorian – too proper.”

 

I thought about briefly protesting that I was prim and proper, but who was I kidding? “Why Red?” I asked, as I unzipped his trousers and released his cock from his boxers.

 

He groaned loudly, before answering. “Red is spunky and naughty. She is mischievous and playful. But most of all, she is beautiful and sexy.” He pushed his hips forward slightly, thrusting his dick into my hands. I stroked him firmly, wringing another groan from his lips.

 

“Rose can be all those things too,” I claimed, rubbing the pad of my thumb along the pre-come leaking out of his cock.

 

“I’d love to debate the point with you,” he moaned, growing breathless. “But perhaps we can do it at another time? Maybe sometime when I am more prepared to concentrate...” I took him into my mouth, causing him to gasp softly.

 

Truth be told, I was a bit intimidated to be on my knees in front of him. I’d given blowjobs before to a couple of blokes and they had always been extremely appreciative, but they had been mere boys compared to Draco Malfoy. I worried that anything I could offer would be old hat for some as experienced as him. But when I saw how his jaw clenched, how he threw his head back, and how his hands tightly gripped the sides of the kitchen chair, I felt reasonably assured that he was enjoying my efforts.

 

I certainly enjoyed the up-close and personal contact I was getting with his cock. Its light, stone-like color and blemish-free appearance was fascinating. It was like sucking off Michelangelo’s statue of David – an idealized version of man. At the same time, however, his dick was warm and responsive in my mouth. Every lick, every stroke, every suck brought either a verbal or visual response from the blond man in front of me. It was inspiring. It drove me to experiment with my teeth and my tongue. Soon I had him shuddering in his chair.

 

“Oh, fuck,” he moaned. “Red… Rose, you’ve got to stop.”

 

I ignored that command, refusing to release him until he was coming in my mouth. It was the first time I’d done that and found the experience not as unpleasant as I’d imagined.

 

“Oh shite, Red,” he ground out, breathing heavily and staring at me with his eyes glazed over. “That was amazing. You’re amazing.”

 

I couldn’t tell if he was sincere or if he was just grateful to have gotten sucked off. I decided I didn’t care either way. He acted thrilled, he looked satisfied, and that was enough for me. I wasn’t looking for a relationship. I wasn’t interested in true love. I didn’t know what I wanted, actually. But he was good-looking, he was experienced, he excited me, and that was all I needed right now.

 

I started to rise, but he pulled me onto his lap, wrapping his arms around my waist. “I want to see you again,” he told me.

 

“Why?” I asked, sounding unflatteringly confused.

 

“Because I am enjoying this. You are a delightful, surprising, attractive woman. And I see no reason to deny myself further gratification, if you also are enjoying yourself.”

 

Part of me, a large part of me, wanted to agree with him and invite him back to my bedroom to seal our arrangement. But some other part, a part that I typically ignored and told to piss off, took control of my mouth. “Perhaps we should not see each other again. You ARE married and decades older than me. Besides, if Scorpius or my Mum and Dad find out about any of this, their anger will shake the foundations of Wizarding London.”

 

“I was wondering when the streak of morality you must have inherited from your Gryffindor parents would rear its ugly head. Frankly, I’m shocked that such impulses survived you being in Slytherin for seven years,” he taunted me.

 

“You ignoring my concerns and attempting to change direction of the conversation by insulting me is a common Slytherin tactic. Frankly, I’m shocked that someone of your advanced age and understanding would try attempt such a weak ploy.”

 

“Ah, Red, you are a breath of fresh air. It is rare that anyone ever questions my desires or thwarts my will these days. Regrettably, I can do nothing to allay the fears you have about our age difference except to comment that I find you remarkably mature for your years and assure you that I am in sufficient health to keep up with you physically. I can also promise discretion, on my part, so that neither of our families has to be shocked or outraged by our conduct. And as far as my spouse is concerned, ever since Scorpius was born she and I have not lived as husband and wife. Our marriage was arranged with the sole purpose of producing a Pureblooded heir. Now that the bloodline is established, we live almost completely separate lives.”

 

I could tell by his demeanor that he was proud of his speech. It included all the right words to sooth my conscience and flatter my pride. It was most likely completely balls, but at least he made an effort. ‘Fuck it,’ I thought, wrapping my arms around his neck and letting him kiss me into compliance. ‘I am enjoying myself and this probably won’t be the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.’

 

Of course, looking back now, I can’t believe I was ever so naive.