Author's Note: This was probably my favorite chapter to write. I hope you like it as much as I do.
Scowling, he finished the note with customary flourish and slammed his sealing wax imprint on the envelope.
He opened his right-hand desk drawer and rummaged in it without looking, the tiny whistle coming nimbly into his fingers. Scraping his desk chair back over the stone floor, he strode briskly to the window and blew the whistle. The sound that emanated was mute to his ears, and it was only intended for his falcon. Father had procured that illegal post animal for him and he cherished it, having trained it since he was young to respond to the whistle and silently gestured commands.
Leaving the window cracked, he went back to his desk and capped his ink and cleaned the quill, knowing Siren would be there soon. He'd named her Siren because all the other male falcons in the shop had been fawning and calling over her, and Draco clearly remembered the shopkeeper telling his father that this particular bird's lineage reached back to those bred for Grindelwald some forty-five years earlier.
A flutter of wings announced his pet's arrival, and she swooped and perched on his shoulder, rubbing her head on his ear.
"Took you long enough," he said, trying to sound cross, but in reality he enjoyed her company, however silent. In response she nipped reproachfully at his hair with her sharp beak.
"Forget it," he said dismissively. He proffered the sealed parchment and she clamped tight on it, preferring to carry it in her mouth than the indignity of having a parcel tied to her leg.
"Take this to Ginny Weasley, in Gryffindor," he said, and jumped when Siren flapped a wing and whapped him in the back of the head. She flew off his shoulder before he could reprimand her, but thankfully she had turned the right way around the castle.
***
Ginny had just returned from a Hogsmeade Saturday, and quickly she raced to her room to put her packages on her bed before running just as fast down the corridor to the loo.
When she returned, a fierce pecking grabbed her attention and she swiveled toward the window, not believing that she was seeing a falcon outside.
The falcon was relentless in its request for admittance, and, fearing this falcon was perhaps a special messenger carrying a harbinger of doom, she slipped the latch on the window and the bird darted in and landed on her bed, walking gingerly on the soft surface.
"Give me your letter and go," she instructed in a shaking voice, reaching a tentative hand out to the bird. It strutted haughtily up to her and deposited the parchment in her outstretched palm, ruffling its feathers and obviously waiting for a treat.
Huffing impatiently, Ginny opened her desk drawer and pulled out her small package of owl treats she kept for Pigwidgeon and Errol, when he made the trip. The falcon fair snatched it from her fingers and she pulled back, afraid the sharp beak would pierce her skin.
The bird twittered almost as if it were laughing at her, and she scowled back, prying open the sealed letter.
After she saw the bold hand in emerald green ink, the bird made perfect sense.
Ginny,
You're not going to learn anything if you hide in your wretchedly red common room. Be at my door at nine tonight.
And if you even so much as think of reporting Siren to the postal authorities she will peck your eyes out. Now give her a treat and get her out of Gryffindor before she gets attacked by that buzzing bee of an owl of yours.
Yours, Draco
Git. Only he would send a damned imperious note with his equally imperious devil bird.
"Here, Siren," she said coaxingly, holding out another of Mrs. Petree's Mouse-Shaped Owl Treats. "Now go back to your snaky owner before I sic Pig on you."
***
She was sickened when she realized, halfway down to the dungeons, that she'd had no inner battle over whether to wear slacks or a skirt.
This particular skirt was not school issue, but a shorter concoction that hit her squarely mid thigh. The black cotton framed the pale curvature of her legs, and the white button-down she'd donned complemented her hair and skirt nicely.
A wave of regret washed over her just as she put her hand up to knock on the door.
***
He'd known she was there before he even heard her approach, and had to work hard to quell the urge to open the door immediately. Instead, he let her knock and waited a count of five before grasping the knob.
His breath caught in his throat and he croaked, "Tarty getup there."
She frowned deeply at him, and it was the first time he could remember saying his favorite flirty phrase with the voice of a pre-pubescent.
"Come in," he commanded, clearing his throat and hearing his regular tone of voice creeping out. He ushered her in by walking directly behind her, giving her no other choice than to retreat further into the room.
The candles were so dim she could only advance because she knew where the furniture was in the room. He continued to herd her toward the bed, not speaking, but she could feel his gray eyes boring holes into the back of her neck.
"What are you doing, Draco?" she asked warily, finally turning on her heel and facing him. He stopped all of six inches from her and grinned wolfishly.
"Don't take all the mystery out of it, Ginny," he said. "Are you going to ask Pierce about every move he makes?"
"He's less likely to require asking," she snorted. "And in addition, I don't have to fear him sending a brassed-off falcon after me either."
"Speaking of which, she threw up your chintzy owl treat. Thanks a lot. You have any idea how difficult it is to get falcon bile out of a robe?"
With his words he reached forward and began to unbutton her blouse.
"Not offhand, I don't," she stuttered, her hands fluttering to his. "What are you doing?" she asked again, a bit frantic.
He leaned forward and his tongue touched her ear. It was all she could do to keep her knees under her when he whispered, "A new lesson."
She let him kiss her, because he could, and he could do it well. Standing up was quite a different proposition, though, but luckily he was there to support her. Delicately, their lips met halfway, his tongue coming out to lick her.
Her motions were unconscious now, that much he had taught her. Their lips stayed breaths apart as he finished unbuttoning her shirt, and it was the memory of her indignant cry when he banished her bra that kept him from performing the same spell tonight.
Luminous skin met his eyes, her white brassiere almost blending in. With one hand, he held her in place, feeling her squirm as he unhooked the offending garment. Letting it fall to the floor atop her shirt made his stomach clench in desire. Suddenly it was imperative for him to have her naked there in front of him, to have her open to his ministrations.
She successfully distracted him by loosening the already careless knot in his tie and pulling it softly up and out of his collar, the silk of it brushing his jaw. A helpless shudder went to his toes.
"When did you learn that?" he asked breathlessly, eyes locking on hers.
"Just now," she said shyly, and instantly he wanted to take her there, standing up, fucking her senseless and bugger the lesson.
"I learn something new each time," she continued as her hands sought and unbuttoned his shirt.
His shirt hit the floor and then he was hugging her to him, dragging his bare torso down hers, over her extended nipples, until he knelt before her on the cold floor.
Unerringly his tongue found her navel and delved it. Immediately her hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer to her as he mocked with his tongue what his body had wanted to do from the beginning.
"Draco," she said, trying to will the quaver out of her voice as she gathered her bravado. "Take off your pants."
Like a shot he released her midsection and stood, stepping just far enough away that his erection wouldn't touch her when he disrobed. He'd already been barefoot on the stones, finding the chill effective in keeping his libido in check, but nothing could hold back the galloping of his blood as she innocently appraised him. He'd tried to remove his trousers slowly, to make a show of it, but his cock leaped toward her and he couldn't strip fast enough.
"Take off your skirt," he returned, eyeing her and wondering if it were possible for him to perform this task for her while standing sideways so he couldn't touch her.
When her hands darted to the zip, he amended his request.
"Slowly."
Pale fingers made their way to the front of the garment, where a trouser-like fly and button were hidden in the black fabric. Hampered more by uncertainty than attempting to tease him, she finally released the button and drew down the zip. As soon as he heard the telltale slide of metal over metal, he cursed his erection and lay his palms over her hips, easing the fabric over them.
When her knickers were revealed, his indrawn gasp was enough to alert her, shaking her from her haze.
"What? What?" she questioned frantically.
"Where did you get these?" he asked, trying to keep his voice even. She sighed in heavy relief.
"A birthday gift, from Hermione," she declared, inordinately proud of the way her satiny knickers caught his attention. He breathed deeply.
"As long as they're not from another bloke, I-Spencer, I mean, won't care."
"No!" she gasped, a hand flying to her throat, the very thought horrifying. "Hermione, she, she just…"
"She did something right," he growled, running his hands over her bottom, feeling where the high-cut legs gave way to her heated skin, liking the way the satin slicked over his fingers.
An inarticulate moan escaped her lips in response. She couldn't quite muster the wherewithal to combine words into sentences. Instead, she concentrated on how sinful it felt when his fingers met underneath her knickers and tickled the tiny dimple at the top of her arse.
He laughed at her, a low rumble that resonated through his chest and into hers. When he ran his fingertips down her cleft and sought to separate and knead her cheeks, she could barely support herself.
When his cock lodged squarely between her thighs, bumped against her mound, they both gasped and clutched one another. Tipping her head up in sheer amazement, she tried to catch a glimpse of his expression, to see if it was affecting him in the same way.
She discovered it was hard to see when he was bearing down on her, capturing her lips with a ferocity she'd not thought possible. Strong hands held the back of her head, cementing her in place, requiring her submission.
"If you make me fall down from weak knees," he threatened, snarling softly in her ear, "I won't be coming up for air for a long time."
"But I didn't do anything particularly…" she began, only to be silenced by his long finger probing her mouth, making her automatically remember her first encounter with him and respond without conscious thought.
"Just being you," he hissed back.
***
He withdrew his finger so quickly from her mouth that he felt her teeth scrape painfully down his finger. The pain trailed into hot streamers of need as he swept her nearly boneless form up in his arms, carrying her bride-style toward the huge mattress that had barely contained their passion only a few nights before.
Knickers off. Knickers off. The hand underneath her knees hitched to the left, sharply, and he grasped vainly at the slinky fabric. It eluded him twice before he got a good grip on the elastic and started to tug them down while she was still in his arms.
A twist of satisfaction settled in his gut as he rather unceremoniously dumped her on the bed, catching her knickers in one finger and pulling them effortlessly down her legs, tossing them to the floor.
Only a flash of her sex was revealed to him in the dim light, and he realized that until now he'd never seen it, only drank indirectly from its well and touched it softly through cloth barriers.
"I'm going to teach you a lesson tonight," he said savagely, falling atop her, thigh wedged securely between her own. "I'm going to teach you what you'll like, what you should want and what you need to demand from a man."
In a move almost like retreat, her eyes widened and she scuttled back to the center of the bed, moving toward the pillows as if trying to find respite from his startling behavior.
He liked the feel of her surprisingly long legs settled loosely around his hips and thighs. He liked it too much.
"If this wasn't your first time, I'd have you up on the bloody Head table in the Great Hall," he growled. "For everyone to see how you look when a man does this to you."
His words penetrated her mind, and for a split second, she was frozen in stark terror. She screamed when his tongue touched underneath her clitoris and stroked up firmly. Instinct closed her legs around his ears and wanton sexuality made her part them again. Seeming to understand her virginal need and her body's demand, he bowed to the latter, sliding broad palms underneath her buttocks to bring her closer to his questing mouth, using his shoulders to burrow underneath her knees.
The shriek she'd loosed went right to his cock, hardening it even more to the point of pain. Fighting the urge to seat himself between her moist thighs, he instead concentrated on voraciously devouring her newly flowering sex.
Words escaped in incoherent little gasps from her lips. She couldn't stop her body's rocking to his rhythm any more than she could gather the breath to ask him to go faster, to push her over the edge with his too-knowing lips and tongue.
Suddenly her ability to vocalize wasn't important any more as he did just as she mentally willed him, releasing her from her exquisite cage of pleasure. Up until that point, she'd not known that the barest nip from his teeth would send her spiraling into orgasm, her arousal slicking his chin and lips.
She bucked violently underneath him as she came, and he moved out of the way in time for her released hips to thrust up, the muscles in her thighs tensing as her body squeezed every bit of release out of her before she came to rest fully on the bed again.
Taking advantage of her panting respite to crawl up the bed toward her, he gathered her in his arms and stroked her sides as she came down from her climax.
"I'm thinking that you liked that," he whispered in her ear, taking inordinate pride in the way she shivered when his tongue touched her ear. "Kiss me."
Lust-hazed eyes finally opened in his direction and widened slightly.
"But you just…" she began, and he didn't care that she'd be shocked, just needed her to do it. He affixed his mouth to hers, making sure that their tongues rubbed, transferring some of her own musky taste to her.
A tingle down to her toes and back zipped through her as she learned the taste of her pleasure. A taboo that she'd been vaguely aware of fell as she took it upon herself to disengage their lips and taste what covered his chin and the area surrounding his mouth.
He pulled her half atop him and she found she didn't mind, in fact; she welcomed the closeness. Only now was she starting to realize and understand the innately female need to caress after her climax and she was taking full advantage of his strange acquiescence.
Warm hands snaked down her body to knead her buttocks and she found the action more soothing than anything else.
"Find someone who likes to taste you and keep him," he stated lazily, releasing his hold on her and moving a reluctant Ginny back to his side. "Don't be afraid to say what you want. Of course, I know I'm expertly skilled, so there was no need to ask, but…"
His words were cut off by a small fist landing squarely in his stomach, and he grabbed her hand and held it hostage.
"Pompous arse," she muttered, trying to wrestle it away from him.
He allowed himself a quiet laugh as he turned on his side toward her.
"You should demand to be on top more than once in a while," he said, hand straying toward her sex again. "And while you're there - or in any position, for that matter - act like a queen. If your man's any good, he'll know you require and deserve to be treated as such."
For the life of her Ginny Weasley could not see Draco Malfoy treating any woman like she deserved something, much less like a queen. She couldn't hold back the unladylike snort that escaped.
"And while I realize we're in a teacher/student situation here," she returned, "what about you? How do you treat your women as queens?"
In the dim light the corner of his lush mouth tipped in a smirk.
"I like to go down on them, really," he said, pausing to think a bit. "And while I like the view of my lady on top, I don't like for there to be too much distance between me and her. She's too far away. I need to have her close, so I can show her how much I want her."
And before she could react to his unexpected and intensely personal comment, he started to turn her body on the bed.
"What are you doing?" she asked, resisting his pushing on her.
"I'm going to teach you how we taste one another at the same time."
And when she realized what he meant, what he was doing, and that she would be atop him and facing the door, she squeaked.
"Do you mean to put me face forward so that if we get caught I'm the first in trouble?" she asked indignantly.
The smirk became full blown.
"No. The first reason is to show whoever catches us how beautiful you'll look there, being pleasured and sucking my cock. The second reason is to show how good a job I'm doing making you look like that."
While maneuvering her body atop him, he summoned his wand.
"Accio mirror."
The full-length mirror he owned swiveled over on little wheels. Openmouthed, she watched him coax the swooning mirror into just the right angle at their side, cocked so they could both turn their heads slightly and see what the other was doing.
In any other instance she would have been embarrassed and amused. Embarrassed by how erotic Draco's blond head looked between her legs and how intently he was stroking the curve of her arse, and amused by how gangly he looked as his legs from the knees down bent over the side of the bed and dangled.
"This is a good look for us," he observed unthinkingly, angling his head so he could see the fall of her hair tenting his weeping erection, see the mound of her near breast pressed into his lower abdomen.
When her stomach clenched in pleasure from his words, she couldn't form words. Instead, she locked her mouth around his cock. Jerking underneath her, his back arched and he moved both of them in gasping surprise.
"Fuck, Ginny," he wheezed. "Don't do that without warning. You want to make me come on the spot?"
She murmured around his member, buzzing it with the back of her throat for fun.
"That's not fair," he growled, and it was her turn to gasp when she found the tongue could hit all sorts of new places when one was in a different position.
For the most part, she worked in tandem with Draco, giving and receiving pleasure in equal parts. But either his stamina was incredible or he wasn't thinking about himself as he worked her over, because he didn't seem to mind when he brought her so close to the edge she couldn't concentrate on him any longer. Lying her head on his thigh with his cock jutting out of the pool of her hair, she watched, spell-bound, in the mirror.
He liked the claw marks she dug into his skin as she tried not to scream her orgasm. He liked even better how she blushed and apologized profusely when she came to and realized he was still unsatisfied. Most of all he liked watching her finish him off while she lay between his legs and he was propped wantonly on his pillows, his fingers threaded though hers as he encouraged her not to use her hands.
It wasn't until she was walking the line of sleep and she thought that she rather liked holding his hands as he came, feeling his strong fingers grasp hers and squeeze. The fact it was the second time she'd slept in his bed strangely didn't bother her at all.
Several hours later, in the earliest moments of the morning, he roused her with kisses on her shoulder. Biting back a ridiculous pang of sadness, she silently pushed back his heavy bedclothes and prepared to slip into her discarded clothing.
A hand on her side stopped her, and with a roguish smile and husky whispers, he communicated that he'd thought of something else he needed to teach her. It wasn't long before he'd urged the mirror closer to the end of the bed and scooted both of them down in front of it. He positioned her in the vee of his long legs and pressed his chest to her back as he instructed her in the fine art of pleasuring herself for another's view. He especially enjoyed assisting her while she did this, and she decided she was fine with having him sit in front of her with his head on her shoulder and both their hands bringing him to climax.
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