A Forbidden Birthright

Chapter Thirty Four

"What are you doing?" Hermione asked, trying to keep the fluster from her voice. She quickly thought over what Ginny said, sifting through their conversation from earlier. How was she supposed to take the upper hand when he made the first move?

He backed her against the wall and without warning, punctured her mind with his consciousness. It was as though she had been plunged into cold water, his intrusion was so forceful. But it wasn't painful, only surprising. He filtered her memories, going back to the first time she'd seen him.

"Why do you always go there?" She said aloud, but he ignored her question. The intensity of his gaze combined with the feel of him inside her mind was enough to make her squirm.

And then he went farther back, to the night before when she had been bathing. The image of her naked body he chose to ignore and it blurred, but her thoughts were clear. Her actions from that night were blazed in her head like a banner, her fantasy about him.

He smirked and withdrew from her mind and looked down at her, already shuddering.

"What makes you think you're good enough to think about me when you're touching yourself?" He asked.

Hermione knew he was saying it to rile and arouse her all at once, and her eyes went wide. She opened her mouth to stutter something but his mouth closed over hers before she could get any words out. A hand on her shoulder pinned her to the wall, the other slid up the back of her head, gripping a fistful of her hair. She sank into the kiss, whimpering, and then wrenched herself away, breathing heavily.

They stared at one another for a long minute, their breaths the only sound.

And then at the same moment she reached for him, wrapping a hand around the back of his neck, he grabbed for her, and they crashed together again like a pair of falling stars. It was all teeth and desperation, wet lips and hot breath. Draco picked up and then she was sitting on the counter, knocking his drink into the sink. The bubbles of champagne sizzled down the drain.

His mouth was on her neck and it was like his hands became her own skin because they were suddenly everywhere and she couldn't. Get. Enough. Her head tilted back as he nipped under her ear, her neck, the hollow of her throat.

"I know you deserve better," he said, breathless in between kisses. "But you make me feel worthy somehow. I'll do anything you ask, Hermione. I will get on my knees and say I'm sorry until the sun dies if it means you're mine. I want more. Be mine, Hermione, be mine."

She groaned, her words gravel in her throat. Her mind was in a haze. Her name from his lips was like a shot of

"Do you mean it?" She managed.

Draco captured her lips again and said, "Every word. When I kiss you, it's like I'm touching the stars. Burn me, Hermione, burn me the way they do, because God, you make me feel something. The insanity you make me feel is the closest to sane I've ever been."

Hermione scraped her teeth across his lip and slid her hands to his shoulder, pushing him down until he was on his knees looking up at her. She fingers the hem of her dress and pulled it up slightly, flashing the smooth skin of her thigh. Her voice turned sultry, her eyes half-lidded.

"Then apologize," she said, sliding from counter and pulling her dress a little higher. She leaned on one hand behind her.

His eyes turned black and his hands skimmed her legs worshipfully. He brought his face to her thigh, grazing his nose across her skin, and kissed her. His lips dragged across her skin as he moved higher. His hand inched up her leg delicately, taunting her with the slowness of it.