We Belong Together || Draco Malfoy X Reader

120| A Risky Wager

!!WARNING!!
-This chapter contains smut-

Y/N POV

After the shameful request I entreated, Draco didn't say a word. He placed me on the bed and studied my face as though he wanted to make sure I wasn't joking. I didn't know if it was my look or anything else, he didn't seem convinced by every word I told him earlier.

"You don't joke around like this," he sighed, forcing me to lie in bed.

I thought he had sensed the lust that consumed me, but Draco was undoubtedly dense this time. Was it because he cum a little bit more than usual?

"I'm not joking, do—"

"Do not do this to me if you're just meant to tease!" He snapped, tousling his platinum-blond hair in frustration.

This startled me as I felt kind of offended and hurt. I pulled the blanket to wrap me all around, not giving a damn to his sudden loving gaze that replaced the wrath.

Draco, you knobhead!

I didn't remember when was the last time I heard him talk to me with so much rage; he was talking like I was someone else, as if I wasn't Y/N Richards, his bloody girlfriend. There must be something wrong with him to raise his tone right after we pleased one another—or perhaps he was just bipolar; a stupid bipolar ferret.

"Y/N, I didn't mean to snap," he unveiled the blanket to see my face. "I'm sorry, love."

Sorry my arse.

I stuck out my middle finger at him, refusing to talk. Again, I went to hide under the warm fabric, crouching my legs to my chest—not because I was daunted or alarmed, I just didn't feel like giving him access to touch me anymore. He cheesed me off for real.

The ticking sound from the clock completed the ambience, calming my temper while Draco also helped by patting my head. The headboard made a creaking sound as Malbutt slid into the blanket to coax me from staying sulky. If only we both weren't naked and had just finished a quickie, my body wouldn't get easily allured by his influence.

"Isn't it hot under the blanket?" he blurted after laying a hand to claim ownership of my bum.

"Don't touch me!" I hissed, still trying to keep my tantrum. Why? Because he needed to learn a lesson about trusting what his girlfriend said.

"You're mine, I can touch you anytime I want."

"No—Draco," a suppressed moan slipped out when he pressed over the swollen bean.

"Fuck, you weren't kidding," he breathed heavily.

Time's up, Y/N.

"Do me," I spun around to beg, "Do me, do me, do me."

Quandary filled the orbs that ogled me up and down, taking over his ability to speak and think clearly which required me to take the initiative of making the first move for God-knew-how-many times today. Aiming to titillate him by palming his cock, I was surprised to feel how it was fully erected already. The veins protruded, indirectly forbidding the filthy scenario playing back in my head to cease.

A play where he talked dirty to me, a play where he treated me like nothing but a useless whore, a play where he would sometimes turn a deaf ear to my false request because he understood what I exactly wanted and many more. Those explicit scenes I imagined and the way I not-so-secretly desired for it to happen, having my mouth gaped to exhale the moistened hot air with a crimson face.

It sounded gauche but I wouldn't let myself stack another deceiving excuse to the hill of deceit. My mind, body and soul craved to be violated—to wholly become the prurient sub he strongly wished to make out of me.