Fest Fic: Lose Herself, NC-17

[hp_bito_mod]

Title: Lose Herself
Author/Artist:
Pairing(s): Hermione/Draco
Prompt: #H17
Summary: Draco is Hermione's Dom. The sex is great but their relationship doesn't go beyond their BDSM sessions. Then Hermione discovers she's pregnant with his baby.
Word Count: 2,500
Rating: Explicit
Warnings/Contains: BDSM, dry sex, painful sex, spitting, dirty talk, squirting
Notes: Thank you for reading <3
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

Hermione just wanted to let go. Lose herself. She trusted Draco Malfoy to help her.

She held a very important position in the Wizengamot. It was so important that her job title was meaningless.

All of wizarding Britain knew she was the witch who made sure things got done. She championed the voiceless and protected the powerless. She sniffed out corruption like a hound.

She took pride in her job, but it was a lot. Somedays, it was too much. On the weekends she didn’t make it to the club, she found herself cracking up, strung out, sobbing.

Hermione needed the release a Dom could give her, and Draco Malfoy had been her best Dom yet. He was just so in control, so detached, so caring. He could be so fucking gentle with her. He was also very, very good at punishing her. He was clever about it, too. He didn’t hit her just to hit her. His goal was to unravel her, and to bring her to her knees.

Draco was an expert at destroying her, and she loved him for it.

It was another Saturday night, and Hermione was at her favourite club, the Black Rose. She was in a secluded room, all the way in the back.

Currently, she was tied to a fucking bench, wrists and ankles immobile, and Draco was balls-deep inside her.

He was so fucking deep inside her, but he wasn’t moving. She felt him throbbing, felt the slight sting where she was stretched around his girth. She was also dripping wet.

Several minutes inched past. Hermione squirmed, her annoyance growing. Her week had been long and difficult. She just wanted a damn pounding, not a frustrating cockwarming session.

“What are you doing?” she snapped.

A hand came down hard on her arse. The pain made her catch her breath. Her eyes rolled up a bit.

“I will not tolerate you speaking to me with such disrespect,” Draco said, not a drop of anger in his voice. He sounded firm and patient, almost a little fatherly.

Hermione shuddered. “Please, sir.”

“Yes?”

“Please fuck me, sir.”

“My cock is already inside you, is it not?”

“You’re not moving, sir.”

“It’s because I’m distracted by your tight little arsehole.” He grabbed her cheeks, spreading them. She felt how her hole was on full display like this. “Do you think I could fuck this pretty little hole without any lube? Do you think you could handle it?”

“I can handle anything.”

He spanked her again. “You cannot handle anything. You have limits, Hermione. Like everyone else.”

She squirmed, utterly throbbing. She felt how her wet was smearing on the leather bench. “You’re right, sir. You’re always right. Just please. Fuck me. Please, please.”

Draco let out a heavy breath, nearly a pant. He always liked it when she begged him.

Draco Summoned a butt plug. It was the one that vibrated. Hermione bit her lip, trying to contain her excitement. She knew what was coming next.

“I’m going to fuck you with this dry,” he purred, touching its silicone rounded head to her hole.

“Yes, please.”

“Before I do so, confirm your safeword.”

“It’s banana, sir.”

“Banana, good. I shall trust you to use it if you hit a limit. I want the pain to be pleasurable, not overwhelming.”

“I understand, sir.”

Hermione exhaled loudly as she felt him begin to stretch her open. She did her best to relax, to just allow the penetration to happen, but the plug had girth.

“Oh God,” she cried.

“You’re doing so good, my pet.”

She panted and squirmed. It had been a few months since she had been fucked anally, so she was out of practice, and the plug bloody hurt as it speared her open.

The pain made her teeth chatter.

“That’s it, that’s it,” Draco cooed gently. He moved the plug in and out, forcing her poor arse to take it. He had to do it slowly, so slowly, because everything was so dry.

Then: “Do you want lubricant, my sweet?”

“Yes, please!”

“It shall only be my spit. Do you still want it?”

She nodded eagerly.

Draco grabbed her hair and urged her head back. He stared down at her with dark grey eyes. He was always transformed during these moments. It felt as if he were no longer a mere mortal.

“You’re so beautiful like this, my darling. So beautiful that I need to claim you. You want lubricant for your arse? Then you will let me spit on your face. Let me mark you. So we shall both know who owns you. You will go home and clean it off, but we will both know that my mark is still there, all the time, even when you are in the Wizengamot running the country …”

She moaned deeply. She wanted Draco to mark her, to own her. In all the ways.

“Oh, please, sir. Please, please. I want you to own me. I need you to. God, I need you. Please, sir. Please.”

For the first time since he penetrated her, Draco’s hips jerked forward. Her begging had made his control fray just a little.

He continued to stare down at her. The desire was evident in his eyes. Hot and powerful and stormy. It almost made him look enraged, but she knew better.

He tightened his hold in her hair, then grabbed her by the throat with his other hand. He bared his teeth, hissing, “You’re fucking mine, do you understand me?”

“YES!”

Gathering a good amount of saliva in his mouth, he spat on her face, and she felt it splatter on her eyes, dripping warm down her cheeks. She wanted to moan but the hand around her throat stole her breath.

As he choked her, he hissed in her ear, “I own you.”

“Draco, please,” she sobbed.

Moaning, he snapped his hips forward, letting himself have a taste of her velvety cunt. She squeezed around him, wanting to make it so good for him.

He growled and shoved her head down. He pounded into her, hard, brutally, but only for a few strokes. Then he stopped again, the both of them panting.

Hermione was utterly unravelled. “Please, please,” she sobbed incoherently.

His hand came down hard on her arse. “Again,” he ordered.

“PLEASE!”

“Please what?”

“Please fuck me, own me, please, please—”

“Tell me why.”

“Because I’m yours.”

He moaned as if he were the one in pain. “That’s right, my darling,” he said softly.

Still holding her head down, he spat on her arsehole. The plug had slipped out a little, but now he worked it back inside her, the spit only easing the way a little.

Then he fucked her hard with it, and she screamed. It felt so fucking good to scream.

“Take it, take it, that’s right, that’s a good girl—”

She screamed again, utterly mindless, her internal muscles clenching up. She could come just from the pain, just from him calling her a good girl.

He thrust the plug deep one last time, then turned it on. Her eyes rolled back as it vibrated deep in her arse. Oh, God, it felt so, so good.

Panting, nearly gasping, Draco grabbed her hips and hammered into her desperately. He had been brought to a primal edge.

She only lasted a few more moments before the on-slaught of sensations overwhelmed her, a powerful pressure building up. She tipped over the edge, expecting an orgasm, but instead she squirted. A lot. The force of it nearly pushed out his cock entirely.

“Oh, fuck, oh fuck yes. Good girl. Good girl.” His voice was ragged.

“Please, Draco, please,” she sobbed. Her release was dripping on the floor.

This wasn’t the first time he had made her squirt, so he understood perfectly what she needed. He eased the plug from her arse, making sure to only touch the base. Then his fingers found her clit, rubbing firmly but slowly. He ground into her as he did it.

“Come for me,” he ordered.

This time, her orgasm felt manageable. When it hit her, the pleasure was so intense that she lost herself, her whole world going dark. She was floating.

Vaguely, she experienced him coming as well, growling, whimpering a little, as he pulsed so deep. She had always let him come inside her.

When it was all over, she was on the cusp of unconsciousness. She barely even knew where she was.

Draco untied her and cleaned her up, and he held her in his arms, murmuring sweetly to her.

“That’s it, my love,” he whispered. “Let it all slip away; I’ve got you, I’ve got you.”

She buried her face against his chest and smiled. He had never before called her my love. It was something new, something that held a promise.

*

A few weeks later, Hermione stood in front of Malfoy Manor, teetering, not sure what to do.

She had just discovered she was pregnant.

Even though Draco was her Dom, she really didn’t know all that much about his life outside the Black Rose. She knew he wasn’t married, nor did he have any children, but he could have been dating someone, maybe even beginning a serious relationship with them …

Being her Dom didn’t mean they were monogamous. Far from it. They barely even acknowledged each other outside the club.

But now Hermione was pregnant, and it was Draco Malfoy’s baby. He was the only man she had slept with for ages. And she had let him come inside her. Every. Single. Time.

Looking back, she felt a little stupid. Yes, her contraceptive potions were powerful, but nothing in the world was foolproof. She had been playing with fire and hadn’t even realised it.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione marched up the manor’s entrance steps before she let the doubt win.

Hermione knocked on the door, then waited. When the door opened, she expected to be greeted by a house-elf, but instead Draco stood before her. He was wearing jeans. And a band t-shirt. The Strokes, said the shirt.

Draco’s eyes went wide. “Hermione,” he breathed.

She felt herself flush deeply. “Um. Hello.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Um. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologise. I’m just wondering why you’re here.”

She shook her head. It had been a long time since she had felt so unsteady. “I—I need to speak to you. It’s important.”

Something like fear crossed his expression. “Of course, please come in.” He held open the door for her.

She slipped inside, bracing for an on-slaught of bad memories, but the manor was nearly unrecognisable. “What did you do with all the portraits?”

“They are in the cellar.”

“Oh.”

“Please,” he said, motioning to the drawing room.

The drawing room was bright and airy. There was a wireless in the corner, and several mountains of paperbacks.

“I didn’t know you read,” she said nervously.

He gave her a suggestive smile. “It’s not as if we do much talking when we are together.”

“No, we don’t.”

“Would you care for some tea? I can Summon the trolley.”

“Yes, tea. That sounds perfect, thank you.”

They sat down on a comfy settee. A minute or so later, the trolley rolled into the room. Draco waved his wand, and the teapot poured them each a cup.

“Milk and sugar?”

“Please.”

Something darkened in his eyes as he flicked his wand again.

They spent a few minutes just sipping their tea. Draco seemed quite willing to wait for Hermione to explain her presence.

“Um,” she said, trembling. “I don’t think you’re going to like what I have to say.”

Draco blinked. “Did you find another man to be your Dom?”

“No!”

“Good, very good.”

“I love that you’re my Dom, Draco. I love our sessions together.”

“I’m quite fond of them, too.”

She shook her head and set aside her cup. “I don’t know how to begin …”

He nodded patiently, waiting.

“I’m. Um. I’m pregnant. And. Um. The baby is yours.”

He stared. And stared some more. The clock was ticking on the wall.

Hermione squirmed. “I realise it’s not ideal—”

“You’re carrying my baby?” he breathed.

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

She raised her chin. “Of course. There’s been no one else.”

Now he looked surprised. “You’ve only been shagging me? Why?”

“Why?”

“Yes … You are—Well. You are incredibly sexy. And beautiful. And intelligent. Powerful, too. I just thought …”

“You thought what?”

“I assumed I was one among many.”

“Many? I’m not a slag, Draco.”

His eyes flashed. “You let me tie you to a bench and fuck your brains out.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m a slag!”

He went back to staring at her. “You want to have my baby? Truly?”

“Yes … I think so.”

“Even though we don’t know each other?”

“We know each other … but I want to get to know all of you.”

Suddenly, Draco covered his face with his hands. He rubbed hard, his breath coming fast. “I’ve wanted you this entire time,” he said, muffled, not removing his hands. “I just didn’t think you’d want me …”

“Why not?” She was almost incensed.

“Because I’ve got the Dark Mark on my arm. Because you’re the most powerful witch in the country.”

“I don’t care about your past, Draco. I know that you are no longer that boy.”

He finally dropped his hands. His eyes shone. “What about your reputation? I know you want to be Minister of Magic.”

She considered it for a moment. “I’d rather be with you than spend my life worrying about what others think of me. I’d rather be happy than be Minister.”

He stood and offered his hand. She let him pull her to her feet.

Then he grabbed her by the chin, forcing her to look up at him. She saw the domination in his expression, felt it in the possessive clutch of his fingers. It made her shudder.

“I will want you to be submissive to me when we are at home.”

“Yes, sir.”

Those grey eyes flashed. “You may run the world at the Ministry, but within our four walls, you will be mine.”

She moaned softly.

“And when the baby comes, I’ll of course share the responsibility of raising it, I’ll love it with my entire heart, but, in the bedroom, you will be mine.”

“Yes, sir. Anything.”

He was trembling. A storm of emotion was in his eyes. “Good, very good. This is more than I’ve ever allowed myself to hope for.”

“Oh, Draco.” She threw her arms around him.

Draco buried his hands in her hair and kissed her deeply, possessively. “Mine,” he whispered against her lips.

“Yours,” she whispered back.