Cat and Mouse
Disclaimer: Everything recognizable from the Harry Potter universe belongs to J.K. Rowling; no infringement is intended to any copyright holder
Rated: NC-17
A huge thanks to mynuet and Renae A. for their wonderful beta work! If you haven't read mynuet's work yet, go do so now! She's absolutely brilliant! Sentences that I struggle hours over, mynuet can put together in a few seconds.
Chapter 1: The Set-up
It was the challenge that pushed her on. The risks meant nothing; they only helped to excite her, to feed her addiction. The challenge was everything, and it was the challenge that currently provoked her to sneak out of her common room in the dead of night to do something that, if caught, would mean serious consequences.
A cool wind swept over Ginny Weasley, playing with her skirt and tickling her thighs as she exited the Slytherin locker rooms. Whether it was the wind or her mood, every fiber of her body felt alive. She unhooked the clasp on her cloak, and the breeze quickly pushed it to her sides; the wind cut easily through her thin blouse, causing her nipples to rise to hard peaks.
A shiver of excitement ran down her spine, and she breathed in the fresh air with satisfaction. This was the part that Ginny liked best-the anticipation that built with the wait. A devious smile played on her face as she thought about the uncomfortable bind Malfoy would find himself in tomorrow.
The Quidditch match would be very interesting to say the least.
Contrary to popular belief, Ginny Weasley was anything but a sweet, innocent girl with solely goodhearted intentions. In fact, she was quite the opposite.
Since that night in Umbridge's office when she had bested Draco with her infamous Bat-Bogey Hex, the two had been playing a dangerous game of cat and mouse; however, who was the cat and who was the mouse was currently in dispute. It was a series of dares and pranks, and then it was something else altogether. There was a tension between them that was almost tangible, and by God, it frustrated her.
Each time, the risks would increase, and they would get closer to what they had been toying with from the beginning. And now, it was her turn to make the arrogant prat pay for all of her conflicting feelings.
Ginny had just turned the corner of the stone building when an arm came swiftly around her, swinging her about until she was trapped between the cold wall and a male body; an arm on either side of her head. Her first instinct was to struggle, but when she realized it was Malfoy, she stiffened, crossing her arms over her chest and holding her ground. She raised her chin and glowered at him. He was tall and ghostly, his features pale in the moonlight that left his eyes in shadow.
Draco moved closer, and her glare faltered as she tilted her head back to look at his face. As he neared, his cloak draped and moved until it brushed against her legs, trapping the heat of their bodies between them. The thick wool of his jumper brushed against her nipples, and a different sort of heat ran through her.
Her gaze focused on his Adam's apple directly in front of her. The vibrations of his voice were almost a physical thing as she watched him speak. "What have we here? A lost little Weasel?"
Her eyes shot up with annoyance and, ignoring her glare, he leaned forward so that his lips barely touched her ear. He smelled familiar and comfortable like thick blankets, but also foreign and dangerous-a mixture of scents and spices that was distinctly male.
"Tut, tut…" he teased. His breath pushed at her hair and warmed her ear. "Students should be in bed. Just think of the trouble you'd be in if you were found out here this late at night." His lips briefly touched her, tickling her ear, and she knew before he moved back that he was smirking.
He thought he had her; she could tell, and then the thrill of the challenge overtook her once more. She would wipe that smirk off his face.
"Yes, but there's a problem. Isn't there? If you turn me in, how do you explain what you were doing, wandering about after hours? And you a prefect, no less." Her tone would have been playful, but it was too soft, too venomous. Though small in stature, Ginny could be quite intimidating.
Draco simply raised an eyebrow and studied her; his grey, predatory eyes moved down to her lips, then slowly back up to meet her gaze. The heat between them intensified, and Ginny felt her skin tingle.
"So what are you going to do?" she challenged softly, never breaking eye contact. A moment later, she gasped as Draco shifted his weight slightly, and something hard brushed against her abdomen.
Ginny edged forward, curiosity getting the best of her. She needed to know if he was as excited as she was, and pressing ever so slightly against him, she confirmed her suspicion. Her heart raced with the realization.
They were flush with each other now. With each breath Ginny took, her breasts swelled and pushed against his chest. One of Draco's arms lowered, and her respiration increased as his hand slowly followed the curve of her spine, until his fingers slid under her skirt to the back of her thigh, grazing her soft skin.
"Eh!" She jerked up with shock, bringing her hands to his shoulders for leverage. "Your hands are fucking icicles." Her discomfort only seemed to encourage him.
He grinned wickedly, his fingers never leaving her skin. "I'm trying to warm them up."
Draco continued to explore, this time sweeping his fingers along her hipbone to her front, teasing the fabric of her knickers. She could feel the coolness of his skin through the thin material that was now quite moist. His fingers were moving as separate entities, yet working as a team with a single purpose, and the sensations caused her to feel as if she might lose control. His hand lingered for a moment, and then smoothly slid up, following the line of her knickers as they curved around her hip, until he was cupping her round bottom. His grip tightened, pulling her into him. Quick to take advantage of her position, Ginny wiggled against him, eliciting a low growl of pleasure from him.
With a swift motion, he lifted her, so that she was eye level with him, and spread her legs, filling the gap in between with his own body. Ginny was breathless with surprise; it was exhilarating. She felt bold and wanted to push him on, to see how far this would go.
"Warming your hands?" She laughed. "That's a sorry excuse for what you're doing." As she taunted him, Ginny knew she had the advantage, and then a moan escaped her lips as his cold fingers found their way under her knickers and slid through her curls, causing such a contrast in temperature that a surge went through her entire body.
"I notice you haven't told me to stop. I must say, you surprise me little Weasley."
She wanted to respond with a witty comeback, but could think of nothing. His fingers were soft and elegant, as was his touch, and it made her head spin. Her thoughts were limited to wants and needs; and right now, more than anything, Ginny didn't want him to stop. She hooked her ankles at the base of his back, and tightened her hold on him.
Two of his fingers entered her, pushing up, while his thumb rested on her clitoris, moving in small circles. She was wet with need and, when he pulled out, his fingers were slick with her, spreading her moisture along her folds, and this time, his fingers were wet and hot. Draco's eyes were fixed on her, examining her reaction to each movement and touch. Their lips, so close yet barely touching, never came quite near enough to kiss.
She could almost taste him when he spoke-almost, but not quite. "Do you like that?" he whispered, his breath playing against her mouth.
"Mmm..." was her only response.
Her sounds urged him on, and he continued with more speed, gently rubbing her. She found herself grinding against his hand, responding to the increase in pressure that was building inside of her.
Her reaction spurred on his. Draco's mouth opened, and his breath increased; his eyes looked heavy and glazed. Watching him watch her became too much, and she shut her eyes. She was aware of little except the sensations that were growing exponentially. Her toes curled, and her head went back with a small cry as a wave, hot like fire, rushed through her body.
Then there was a pause, as her breathing returned to normal. Her hands were now tightly clenched within his hair, and she let go, moving her arms back down to his shoulders. For a moment, she forgot who he was, and instead became entranced at the thought of what he had done to her. Absently, her fingers began playing with the skin of his neck, following the tendon that tensed as he swallowed. She could feel his heart beat rapidly, as well as his eyes on her as he watched her intently. There was desire on his face, mixed with a glimmer of something more playful.
"Yes, you definitely seemed to like that," he purred with an irritating smugness.
His words brought her back to herself, and she leaned down against his neck and murmured, "Arrogant bastard," before giving him a not so gentle nip with her teeth.
The game was on again, and he pulled her head back by her tangled red hair. "Keep your fangs away from me, or you'll find out what a bastard I can really be."
Ginny smiled with the satisfaction of riling him up, and licked the salt from his skin off the back of her teeth, as she tightened her legs around his waist.
"What are you going to do now?" she asked, urging him on.
His grip on her hair loosened, and he ran his hand down the curve of her breast, his fingers flicking and pinching lightly at her nipple.
"I'm going to fuck you, hard."
There was a palpable sense of expectation as he pressed against her, one of his hands moving away from her and fumbling with his trousers. His hand quickly came back up and pushed her knickers aside; something hard and warm pressed against her opening.
She wet her lips and moaned with a smirk. "At least not everything about you is cold."
Draco laughed at that, a low deep laugh that she felt vibrate against her chest, and his breathing picked up as he slid into her and ground his hips in slow, tantalizing circles against her. She responded by lifting her legs higher and wider; her ankles, locked on his back, slid further up to allow him deeper entrance.
Mimicking the movement of his hips, his hands made circles over the softness of her rear. Everything was contrast: He was hard but gentle, slow yet wild. The arms that were wrapped tightly over his shoulders were cold, but her legs, securely under his cloak and against his skin, were damp and hot. His skin on her skin was moist and smooth compared with the coarse wool of his jumper on her torso. Such opposite sensations were building within her.
He moved his mouth to her ear once more and whispered, "You have a nice little arse. I think I'd like a better view."
And then, he pulled out of her.
Backing away, he righted himself and let her slide down to the ground; her knees now felt like jelly. She was disoriented and confused, standing there like a child whose treat had been taken away.
He sauntered backwards and motioned for her to follow. She did so; her curiosity and anticipation piqued once again. As they moved past the stands of the Quidditch pitch, his eyes never left her. When they reached the last, lowest bench, he stopped and waited. He looked down at her and smirked, and she knew he was about to act. Abruptly, he picked her up and positioned her so that she knelt on the bench. Her rear up in the air, he pulled her knickers to her knees and then, running his hands up her bare thighs and hips, lifted her skirt so that it hung down around her waist. The wind was stronger in this open area; it tousled her hair and shocked her as it ran along her bare skin, making her wet heat cool.
She looked back and saw his cloak flapping in the wind, a stark contrast to his pale legs. His cock stood out and moved slightly as he did. His trousers along with his boxers were down, hovering above his knees. His clothes and hair and composure were all out of sorts. He looked awkward and rumpled and thoroughly sexy. He was just the way she liked him-agitated and messy. It played with her sense of mischief and turned her on.
When he entered her this time, it was forceful and with purpose, slamming into her.
Ginny was pushed forward and caught herself just before she toppled over onto the bench in front of her. He pulled back, and then crashed into her again. The sensations that were caused as he hit a certain spot inside her were foremost in her mind, and she arched her bottom up higher, even as his dominance of the situation caused an irksome little itch somewhere in her subconscious. Ginny reared back to meet his motions. It was a war of wills, pushing each other on.
Draco gripped her hips tightly, short fingernails almost painful as they began to dig into her skin. Their movements continued to build speed, his groin slapping against her bare backside making her bite off a moan.
It was animalistic, this rivalry between them; each trying to outdo, outscore, to win. She held onto the bench in front of her tightly, trying desperately to keep her balance as small waves grew larger.
His thrusts became short jerks, and Ginny reeled from the sensation, too much, too fast. It was electric, and it reached from the bottom of her spine to the tips of her fingers and toes. Somewhere in the back of her dizzied and frenzied mind, she heard him give a deep guttural sound, and he slammed into her once more and held.
The wind cooling her sweat-glazed skin brought an awareness to her, and she could feel him still inside of her, his panting audible. A trickle was running down her thigh, and she stretched forward shakily, allowing him to slide out of her. As she moved, she realized how rough they had been. Her knees were bruised from the hard bench, and her limbs were wobbly and sore.
As if sensing her weakness, he gave her bum a loud opened-handed smack that stung, causing her to stand up with a jolt; the sound of the slap, mixed with her yelp, reverberated off the stands.
"Well…" she said cautiously, as she pulled up her knickers and backed away. "I'd better be on my way before the wrong sort of person catches me up past hours and takes advantage of the situation." She watched him as he refastened his clothes, righting himself. He was noticeably disheveled, and Ginny thought the look suited him. It was devilish, but playful.
If possible, his smirk grew wider. "Wouldn't want that to happen, now would we?"
She tried to hide the smile that was growing on her own face as she turned on her heels and left him standing alone on the field.
Though unexpected, the evening's events would certainly make tomorrow more interesting. Ginny entertained herself with thoughts of what was to come as she made her way back to her rooms. Tomorrow, she would gain the upper hand.
A/N:
Currently, I have four chapters plotted out for this little PWP and should be finished with the second chapter within the next day or so. (I've spent the past few weeks trying to beat it into submission, and I think I finally have a plan that will work. *grins*)
If you would be interested in beta-ing for me, please contact me at: tegan2828@yahoo.com