Contingent | D.M. + H.G.

Chapter 7: In Frustration

A/N: Betawork done by Leilahmoon and firstlovelatespring! Seriously, I owe them my life.

xoxox, carmen

-

The smell of sweat filled the air as they communicated in the only way they knew how. Though they had known each other for years, they had never shared more than vicious words and scathing glances. Truly, the kindest words they had ever spoken to each other in the last five years were each other's last names.

This was why it made little to no sense that they constantly wound up in this predicament - although, let the record show he wasn't complaining, and it didn't seem like she was either. Her head tipped back to rest upon his shoulder, breathy little moans entering through his ear and weaving themselves into his brain. It was this sound in particular that she kept making which spurred him to continue pushing himself slowly into her from behind, wanting nothing more than to draw that perfect little noise from her again and again and again.

It had been on repeat, a background track to the mess that was his life, ever since that first night. Echoing through him as he chased sleep, in the shower, at dinner, when she raised her hand in class, the little swotty know-it-all she had always been and would undoubtedly continue to be.

His groan punctuated the air sharply as he thought about how much he had craved and wanted so badly to hear it once more. And how good it felt to be the one to get it from her.

She fluttered around him at the sound, rewarding him once more as she moaned again. He smirked, knowing how much she liked it when he was vocal with her. Leaning down to kiss her throat, he said, "You like that? You like knowing that you feel good around me, huh?"

She was so willing, it still shocked him, and they had been playing this game for a while now. Longer than they should have been, but neither of them were willing to throw in the towel.

His breath was ragged against her throat as his fingers trailed down her sweaty, damp stomach to rub at her clit, pushing her further. She nodded, her hair scratching against his skin, and squirmed in his arms as his grip tightened around her. He knew that the closer she got to the precipice, the more restless she became in chasing after it. He thrived on being the one to give her what she wanted, or deny her until she was nearly sobbing with want.

He got off on the power he had over her, the control she ceded to him when she was too embarrassed to admit what she needed. He knew. He always knew what she needed. He could give it to her - he probably always would have if she had ever only asked.

He relished the feeling that washed through him as he finally let her give in and pushed her over the edge. He loved fucking her through her orgasm, loved the feeling of her perfect cunt as she took what she needed from him before he followed, diving headfirst over the edge he loved to create for the both of them.

What he still hadn't figured out though, was why he never felt sated every time she walked away.

-

He woke in the early morning with a gasp. Sweat trickled down the side of his face as he raked a shaky hand through the hair stuck to his forehead and tried his best to process the wisps of the dream that was now floating away from him.

So now she had fully and thoroughly infiltrated his dreams. Fan-fucking-tastic.

While the girl in the dream had been pulled up flush against him as he ravaged her from behind, unfortunately, there was no question about who it had been.

And holy fuck had it been so incredibly vivid. Draco swore that he could feel her clenching around him as she gasped and moaned and gave him all of those hot, pretty sounds that he loved to hear from any witch. Somehow it felt better when it came from her, because it was her.