Whenever she got sad, there was 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲.
And on the other hand, whenever he got sad, there was 𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫.
Until they discovered something that only required both of them in the same room -- nothing else.
𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧, 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲 �...
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𝐂 𝐇 𝐀 𝐏 𝐓 𝐄 𝐑 𝐄 𝐈 𝐆 𝐇 𝐓 𝐄 𝐄 𝐍 warning: profanities, sexual content, mentions of ropes and knives ahead.
this chapter may be too much for some. viewer discretion is advised.
T H I R D P E R S O N
"Now- be a good girl and wait for me in my room, hm?"
Something in Clementia's eyes darkened after Draco uttered the sentence—her pupils dilating and her sight steady on him, as if drowning him in the deep turquoise waters inside her eyes.
The air turned thick with tension, their faces glistening from both the reflection of the chandelier on the center of the room, and the drops of sweat crippling down their bodies, slowly dripping on the mahogany table.
Usually the blond would push her—or anyone who would go near him all sweaty—away from him, but somehow, he didn't feel the need to do so.
Instead, this made him become more eager to watch Clementia tremble and break even more. He craved to see her in a state that was more than being drenched in sweat and bent on his family's dining table.
He wanted more. And so did she.
Without another word, she placed her shaky palms on Draco's shoulders which were inches away from hers, and pushed him out of the way.
His eyes lurked on the girl's slender body as she stood up and picked up her bottoms from the absolute mess on the floor caused by impulse ... and lust.
An insane, overflowing amount of aggressive lust.
Clementia bent down in a seductive way as she picked up her garments; her back arching resulting to her shirt creeping up, revealing the bare skin on the bottom of her spine all the way to her ass.
Draco watched as he fixed himself up, hardly paying attention to his hands. Unknowingly sinking his teeth on his bottom lip, he resisted every urge to grab her waist and plunge into her all over again.
If she stayed bent like that for a few more seconds, he wasn't sure if he could still fight it.
She would end up being in that same position all night—but most probably lifted on a couch or a chair, or even the dining table again.
But Clementia was clever enough to stand up straight just in time.
However, sliding her underwear and shorts up her legs was worse for Draco.
In his perspective,
The silk cloth ran through her skin ever so lightly, slowly bringing them up to her legs. Those long legs—oh how they wrap around my torso when I fuck her mercilessly, drawing me into her even more. How they hang above my shoulders all helpless and weak, giving me an amazingly easier access to her cunt. Oh- how i'll make sure to leave those legs paralyzed the next time, she won't be walking for weeks. And the cloth reaches her thighs—how she chokes my neck with them when I eat her out, pulling my mouth closer to the greedy core that's begging to release its load all over my face. Then she settles it on her hips—the ones that buck roughly against mine like the whore she is, wanting to cover and swallow up more of my cock until she starts screaming and moaning my name for all the neighbors to hear-
