Anchor and Rose | Dramione

Twenty-Four.

THIS FIC IS NOW ALSO AVAILABLE TO READ ON MY AO3. USERNAME IS SIXTH_SENSES.

Hermione laughed, shooting Draco a sidewards glance.

"Is this just you being a twit?" She asked, her breath rather smoky. "Why would you care?"

"I would only ask if you were a virgin if I intended to fuck you."

Hermione thought about it for a second, trying to not let the sexual images run through her mind. Too soon. Too irresponsible. But wasn't it the same as letting Draco fuck her with his fingers and tongue?-No, no, no. that was less intimate, less important, less...less...it had less feeling, right?

"I don't care. It's just-I would like to know-because I-" He edged an inch closer to her again, his fingers finding themselves on her shoulders, tugging at the straps of her bra absentmindedly. "Would you care if I cared?"

Technically, she wouldn't care. Hermione had never really given much thought into sex, she never had time to. She was always too focused on battling her anxiety by studying, day and night. And when she was of an age where it crossed her mind, the war had began to fizzle out any sort of desire inside of her for it. Her only sexual experiences, before Draco, had been rushed and somewhat wishy-washy. Cormac, for example, had dragged her to his dorm room bed following Slughorn's party and was so desperate for an orgasm he didn't even touch her once.

And then there was the time when she drank way way way too much butterbeer and found herself grinding against Fred Weasley in his box room in the Burrow on New-Years Eve. They hadn't spoken about it since, not that they needed too, Hermione was sure Fred had been too drunk to even remember a thing the next morning. And even the time her and Padma-no, she wouldn't think about that today.

"I wouldn't care," Hermione concluded, her breath turning shaky when his left hand came to rest at the base of her neck. "Would you care if I didn't care that you cared?"

Draco bent down and pressed his lips against the underside of her ear. "Stop being smart, Hermione, and answer the question."

Hermione hissed when she felt his teeth sinking into the spot between his hand around her throat and her collarbone. "Tell me, has Rose been a dirty Mudblood for anyone but me?"

Rose. He knew how wrap her around his little finger, didn't he?

Yes, I have been dirty. But not as filthy as I have been for you.

"Does this-oh god-does this mean you want-"

Draco chucked against her skin as he ran his tongue across her collarbone. "To fuck you? Absolutely, I want nothing more than to feel how fucking filthy you are."

"We shouldn't," Hermione was trying to think and act rationally, but the arousal between her legs was telling her differently. "It would destroy everything."

"Have we left anything else to be destroyed?" Draco quirked back, his hand dropping from her neck to let his fingers brush against the underside of her nipple.

"Draco-"

"Call me Anchor."

Why did he still want to be called Anchor; was he afraid of crossing that path? Why was it okay for him to call her Hermione, but not when his lips were on her skin?

"Anchor please-"

Draco's lips departed her collarbone and instead grazed against her cheek until they landed at the edge of her mouth. "You want me to fuck you? Answer my fucking question, are you a whore or not?"