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HP: Tainted Desire

Author: [TasteOfDarkness] ===== Most people, had they found themselves in occupying the body of a character in a book they enjoyed, would have tried to make sure the story ended happily for all that was involved. Not me. I wasn't stupid enough to miss the chance the forge my own destiny in a new universe, especially not when I found myself in the body of infamous Draco Malfoy. ===== Join my Discord: (https://discord.gg/HufQjM6kAN) I don't own the picture and if you are the owner and wanted it taken it down just inbox me :D Support our dearest author: [p_treon.com/dirk_grey] [if you support Author and you're finding advance CH, no there's no advance CH it's only original] I have a permission to upload it here, for the new reader that gonna read this fanfic don't review and saying "you're not the author here's the link" I will say it again I have permission! so it's safe to read this fanfic.

Lazy_Ryuu · 作品衍生
分數不夠
98 Chs

CH 45: No Name [6]

{[Last Time in Tainted Desire]}

"Long time no see," I said with a smirk, letting my eyes dance over her body. I let my desire to float on the surface, reminding her of the state of her dress during our last encounter, nothing but my bite-marks and finger-prints. "Why don't you take a seat," I said, patting the seat next to me on the opulent leather couch I was occupying.

=====

{[Now]}

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....

"I'm good like this," she said, trying to sound resolute, but her eyes, fluttering in panic, told a different story. She was anxious.

"I insist," I added, once again gesturing towards her intended seat, but this time, my voice was much sharper, laced with a warning she managed to catch. Another second passed in hesitation before she followed the direction. It was good to see she hadn't forgotten her lessons during the short break I had given her.

She sat next to me, her gaze on the ground, her hands together, pressing to the skirt of her skirt, like that would prevent me if I wanted to get a taste of her. I said nothing, letting her speak first. "Why are you here," she mumbled.

"It's nice to see you too, Fleur," I answered, deliberately stretching her name, enjoying every syllable that left my mouth. Her blush intensified, but she hadn't said anything else. "Come on, honey, is this the way you should treat the man who saved your precious husband."

That comment managed to break her determined silence. "How dare you!" she said as she raised her gaze. "How dare you mention him, after what you have done."

I couldn't help but smirk at her anger. "What I have done? Honey, correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't remember you trying terribly hard, trying to stop me as we tested certain parts of your precious love nest. Not while we were in your bedroom, or in your living room, and certainly not when we were in your kitchen." At the mention of her complicit surrender to my not-so-tender attention, her anger wilted, her eyes shifting back to opulent carpet that covered the floor. "There is no use talking about it," I said. "It's not like there will be a repeat of it."

The statement cut through her forced calmness like a particularly well-enchanted knife. "It won't?" she questioned loudly, her face twisted in shock, and if I was reading correctly, underlined by an instinctual disappointment.

"Our deal was for five evenings, and despite a few hiccups, we completed all of them. So, you're free of your obligations," I explained in a matter of fact tone. "It's not like you want to continue that arrangement, right?"

"Of course I don't!" she shouted, trying to convey her determination through the loudness of her voice. I had a feeling that it was aimed at herself rather than me.

I shrugged. "Understood. Then, should we move on to work, then," I said, gesturing the large pile of paperwork on my various investment.

She nodded, and reached for the first of the files. Her eyes widened slightly after examining the first document, especially the number below the line, showing the total amount of money on that particular account, but she managed to hide it much better than she could hide her reaction to my touches.

I made sure to act in perfect professionalism as we discussed my financial matters. Well, almost perfect, as occasionally, I let my fingers to slide carelessly as we passed the documents back and forth, trying to remind her about my touch.

At first, it seemed that my attempts were going to be a waste, that I had overestimated the lasting effects of our short, yet steamy acquaintance. Every time I brushed my fingers, her hand slid away in a controlled manner, as if she was impervious to the desire now that I lacked leverage to force her compliance. I still had quite a bit leverage I could bring of course, but they were all more heavy-handed than I would have preferred.

Before I could decide to use one of those extreme methods, her defense, impressive as it was, started to crack before the turn of an hour. Her skin was the first one to surrender, turning into a slight pink. As the minutes rolled, the pinkness deepened, becoming a darker color that almost deserved to be called red. The next ability that was compromised by her rising arousal was her breathing, slipping out its soft rhythm into one that was reminiscent of the nights that we spent together.

I had started to feel the delicious weight of her allure just before her fingers showed the first signs of surrender, losing their impetus to escape, the contact stretching longer and longer with each 'accidental' touch. Soon, I wasn't the only one that was initiating those touches, her gaze flickering towards me whenever they touched.

I would have pitied her if I wasn't such a heartless bastard. She was a woman who spent her early life away from the temptations of the flesh, trying to prove that she was more than her heritage. She had been the top student, and a champion for her school. She was good enough to get a prestigious job in Gringotts, and she was even selfless enough to join a hopeless resistance against tyranny in another country. But then, just before the finish line, she tangled into my web, unaware of my true reach, every attempt of struggle pushing her deeper into the descent.

And now, here she was, marginally more than ten days after our initial meeting, her desires pushing her to a point where she was sending glances that were nothing more than wordless cries of temptations, filled with hope that I might lose control and take her over the desk.

The funniest thing was, I was sure that she wasn't aware the full extent of the display her body was putting. She was haughty and prideful enough to think that, despite the storm that was raging inside her heart, she had managed to hide her thoughts and feelings from me, forgetting the fact that, during our intense trade, I had learned to read her body perfectly, that her attempts of obfuscation were doomed to fail.

"That's a good progress," I said as I leaned back on my seat, almost an hour after we first started. "I think that's enough work for one day, and I'm already feeling famished."

From the corner of my eye, I continued watching her expression, which twisted by a sudden disappointment. It took a few seconds for her to erase that expression. Even then, she wasn't entirely successful, leaving a distinctive ghost behind that told the whole story. "Whatever you prefer," she said.

My initial plan was to leave her stewing after the initial contact, but that was harder to do when her perfect beauty lay in front of my eyes, and her allure quickening my blood flow. "Actually, why don't you accompany me for the lunch. We can continue working there."