Outcasts | 5 Slytherins 1 Hermione

VII

Hermione felt her cheeks warm as she noticed their smirks, all directed at her. Biting her lip, she briefly wondered if she was truly capable of handling all five of them at once.

"Fuck," Marcus muttered, prompting her to turn and see him shaking his head in relief. "I am so glad that's finally over. Now, we can play ." He looked up at her with a grin that screamed trouble, urging her to run. But she didn't. Instead, she met his gaze, mirroring his grin as best as she could, her heart threatening to escape her chest.

She glanced at Riddle, noticing him watching her with a look that seemed almost pained. Did he want this? It doesn't appear so; perhaps he's just enduring it for the others' sake. She couldn't be certain, but she was determined to unravel his mysteries, one way or another. Can you despise someone and still sleep with them? She believed it was possible. After all, it doesn't have to mean anything—it's just sex.

He tilted his head, his demeanor shifting, resembling an animal eyeing its prey. "Come here," he demanded.

Slowly, she stood and walked towards him, anticipating his next command. Silence enveloped the room as his eyes roam over her body, making her suddenly very pleased with her choice of dress. The sound of a crackling fire filled the room. She smirked down at him. Feeling a surge of boldness, she bent over, grasping the hem of her dress, and, in a single fluid motion, pulled it off, revealing that she was not wearing anything underneath.

Multiple groans echo, making her blush. "You're so perfect for us, and you don't even know it," Theo muttered. Hermione turned to see them all staring at her. With a cock of her hip she smirked at them, she's never felt more confident under their intense gazes.

Riddle tapped his leg, and taking the cue, she settled onto his lap. Quietly, she scanned his face for any signs of scarring, other than the bruising under his eye.

The gentle touch of his hand wrapping around her waist snapped her back to the moment. Riddle's fingertips on her skin cause her to shiver. A sudden surge of pride fills her—they chose her, and all of them want her, despite being able to have any witch they desire. A rush of heat flows through her.

"Give them a show, violent witch." Riddle mused, she looked at him confused by what he meant. After a moment he grabbed her leg to spread her open and with the other hand, he guided her wrist to her core. She adjusted her position spreading both her legs as wide as she could. She already felt herself dripping on his trousers.

She ran a finger through her folds, the sounds of her arousal obvious. She began doing just what he told her to, giving them a show. She found her clit and gasped at how swollen she was, she bit her lip and began massaging. Her head fell back into the crook of Riddle's neck. Her breathing became jagged as the pleasure started to build. She made eye contact with Draco who was the only one staring at her face instead of her core. She picked up the pace, trying to convey every thought running through her mind, with her eyes. But then she remembered she didn't have to anymore, she didn't have to keep her fantasies a secret.

"Draco," She moaned, as her eyes fell shut. After a moment a hand wrapped around her wrist and she opened her eyes to find Riddle taking over.

"We want to make every fantasy of yours come true, just tell us what you want." He whispered with a dark intensity. His voice sent a throb below.

His fingers on her felt so much better than her own, she began writhing at the building pressure. She gripped the arms of the chair, "Please don't stop." She cried. He slipped a finger inside of her while his other hand wrapped around her throat. He began fucking her with his digits while his palm hit her clit just right. Her thighs quivered as her orgasm built.