Out of Time

Chapter 11

Hermione is discovering something entirely new.

Not just that having a dick in her mouth is new, which it is, but the absolutely drunk feeling of power it gives her.

Whenever she thought about the act from an outside perspective, she wondered if it would feel degrading - being on her knees in front of a man standing over her, feeling like she has little control over what was happening.

But it isn't like that at all. Maybe it's because they're both on the bed, Draco on his back and her - yes, on her knees - between his legs. Technically, she's above him and she's in charge of everything.

This allows her a certain exploratory nature to things, one Draco isn't minding in the least. Rather than setting her goal of making him orgasm, she feels the deeper overarching drive to just... give him pleasure. She hadn't expected this, at all. It's wildly gratifying.

Every time her eyes flick up, that addictive sensation rushes over her. His gaze, already dark and eager, already claiming, is ravenous. He's transfixed by her.

For the first time, Hermione understands why he dragged things out as long as he did when she propositioned him to take her virginity. Now, she understands. The way he's watching her sends chills of heat down her body, a new and contradictory sort of sensation. Hearing his breath hitch, the noises he muffles, his desperation.

She's giving it to him. She's doing this, and it gives her the most incredible sense of power.

Ever the diligent academic, Hermione catalogues every tiny reaction Draco's body makes. Her tongue around the head of his penis, good, but sliding it with more pressure around the underside? He whimpers. Tracing the thick vein from base to tip? His fists clench the sheets.

Draco seems determined not to ask for anything in particular. It feels like a year ago that she'd asked him to show her how to touch him, and he's giving her no instruction now. Not verbally. But it's easy enough to tell what he likes and maybe that's better, anyway.

The only thing she hasn't done yet is go down around it, all the way in. She's a little wary of this part. She still has no other frame of reference, but he's thick. There's no way she could take him all the way to his base, but with her hands helping, she thinks she can cover a solid amount of real estate.

Pushing herself up a bit for the right angle, she wraps a hand firmly around his cock and lowers her mouth around him. Down, down she goes.

Draco makes a strangled groan and she glances up. Both his hands are covering his face. His chest is heaving. She comes back up before going too far, and does it again.

His cock is almost pulsing beneath her fingers. She's got a good grip on him, but she doesn't think that's it.

"Oh, fuck," he moans into a clenched fist, knuckles white. "Never thought - would never ask - fucking hell -"

He devolves into random syllables that might have been words at one point. Maybe the linguistic disconnect is severed neatly between his brain and his mouth. Hermione finds this prospect pleasing and goes down further.

That's more difficult. She knows she can't take all of him and it would be masochistic to try, but she reaches a point of predictable ability and starts a rhythm.

Her boyfriend is a babbling mess and she's never felt this empowered. This is quite the reverse of her pleading with him a few hours ago and Hermione knows intrinsically that she wants to do this for him (to him?) again. She's almost disappointed when his fingers scrabble wildly for her arm, tugging her up.