The few days after my encounter with Hermione passed in a blur. To my surprise, Hermione had leveraged the information I had prepared for her about the death eater encampments, or managed to bring it to correct people, and three prison camps were hit simultaneously while guards exchanged duty, capturing several low-level grunts while saving the prisoners. Because of that, all Death Eaters were running around panicked, trying to detect the information leak, and catch the parties responsible.
It would have worried me if I hadn't foreseen that detail and only used information I had gleaned from other Death Eaters, but even that was done carefully. I had picked a victim, Nott Senior, and only given the information that he had access, so if one of the Death Eaters somehow managed to show a morsel of intelligence and track the information, it wasn't going to be me with the egg -or a certain bright green spell which Voldemort had the tendency to throw around like expired candy- on my face.
I hadn't been expecting Hermione to use all of the information, but maybe after everything that happened, she wanted to prove herself that her 'suffering and sacrifices' for not in vain. Still, it was a good sign that she did, because now that she had seen the usefulness of it, she would probably initiate another contact, which would lead to some interesting spying encounters. Not to mention that I still needed her to open up about Voldemort's immortality, giving me the excuse to go forward destroying that monstrous abomination.
But before that, I needed a way to get rid of my stress, which was caused by all the bustling around due to the latest prison crisis. Hermione was out, needing some more time to get back her balance, so that I could have fun toppling it once more. But thankfully, she wasn't my only option. There was a sexy blonde that was deprived of my attention for a long while.
It was already evening, and my sexy blonde witch was likely at home, preparing a dinner for the man that was supposed to be her husband before I meddled it enough to reduce that status to legal fiction. Even more conveniently, I had access to her home wards, so nothing was preventing me from teleporting there for a quick visit.
A muffled crack later, I was in the garden of the Shell Cottage, a small, boring place that could never measure up to Fleur's majesty. But that was a problem for later, I admitted as I wrapped the invisibility cloak I had swiped from Potter, and a silencing spell later, I didn't exist as far as any observer was concerned.
I sneaked in through the front door, which was not locked, nor had a special ward, relying on the perimeter ward to keep an intruder away. A horrible lapse in the security in the times we were in. They trusted their wards too much. I sighed and put a few subtle alert wards in the house that would warn me in case of an attack. Death Eaters stopped raiding after their takeover, but there was no guarantee that they wouldn't restart after the camp raids, and I had no intention of losing my sexy toy in an accident.
With my task complete, I silently slipped inside, only to see William Weasley sitting in the living room, listening to radio, a glass of firewhiskey on his hand, and Daily Prophet sprawled open in front of him. I just stopped there enough to make sure my compulsion charms were in place, enhancing his anger and impatience towards Fleur while making sure he would never attempt anything other than some groping. I didn't want my angel to be sullied by that ginger waste of space.
After making sure that everything was in order, I put a compulsion charm to make sure he would be extraordinarily interested in his newspaper, to the point he wouldn't bother to check even if he heard some noises that could be construed as distracting. With that done, I moved deeper into the house, following the noise. As I walked, I removed my cloak and dispelled my silencing charm. After all, I had no need to hide myself from my blonde angel.
I found Fleur in the kitchen, her back turned to the door, busy with the plates in front of her, trying to cook a rather elaborate dinner. Considering that I didn't get a committed housewife vibe from her, I was willing to bet that it was her way of compensating for all the adventures we had together. Not a bad deal, I presumed, Weasley got his precious food, I got his precious wife, and Fleur got the pleasure she deserved.
Everyone was happy.
The only problem was the way she dressed, gray sweatpants, thick and loose enough to hide her delectable derriere, and a sweatshirt of the same color and structure. The only bit of color was the frilly pink apron that she wore, and her hair was gathered in a simple ponytail. Still, considering she thought Bill as her only audience, her lack of preparation was acceptable. The less she tried to show-off for her husband, the happier I was.
I sneaked towards her until I was behind her, and waited until she wasn't holding anything sharp or steaming, then cupped her bottom rather hungrily. "I told you not to touch me-" she spat in a palpable aura of anger as she turned, her hand finding my shoulder to violently push me away before she could even complete the turn.
I grabbed her hand and pulled her closer. Unprepared for the sudden move, she failed to resist, and found herself in my embrace, her words cut short as her eyes grew wide in shock. I didn't give her a chance to gather her wits, and caught her lips in a heated kiss, preventing her from saying anything.
My training must have been effective enough, because her lips joined the dance, following my lead, before she the shock on her eyes could drain, her movements getting smoother with every tick of the clock.
It took a while for her to process the fact that we were kissing in her kitchen, while her husband was just a corridor away, and panic empowered her just enough to push me away. Not hard enough that I couldn't resist, but I let her succeed, not willing to miss the amusement value of the scene. "Draco," she whispered furiously. "What are you doing here!"
She kept her position while saying that, a tactical mistake on her part. I closed in slightly, and put my arms on the counter, on both sides of her, cutting off her escape route. "I decided to make a surprise visit to my favorite blonde," I said, then pouted comically. "Aren't you glad?"
"You can't be here," she murmured. "My hu- William is just a room away," she added, a guilty expression appearing on her face as she almost referred to the man with a title he didn't deserve.
"So, you're not happy to see me?" I asked. She immediately froze when I put her to the spot.
"No, I'm not," she managed to murmur after a visible struggle, her attempt to lie too poor to actually anyone, especially me.
"Really," I said, letting my smirk widen to clue her about her rather poor acting. "You don't seem really convinced. How about we check with a neutral party?" She looked at me questioningly, while I used that opportunity to slide my arm around her waist. "Your body, of course," I said, bringing my other hand towards her face, my fingers over her lips, tracing softly. A trembling gasp escaped her mouth.
My fingers slipped down, caressing her neck on the way until pausing on her chest, while my lips replaced the position previously held by my fingers, leaving a soft, fleeting kiss. Her heart started thumping furiously under my fingertips. "It doesn't feel like you're dissatisfied. So, do you want to try answering that question again?"
She stayed silent for a couple seconds, but then sighed in defeat, and let her body relax, pressing against mine. "I missed you," she murmured, though it seemed like that admittance exhausted her. She wrapped her arms around my neck and leaned for a kiss on her own volition. Her admittance was expected, but the kiss, delivered by her, was less so, not that it prevented me from enjoying it. On the contrary, I stopped the rest of my plan for a moment, in favor of enjoying the soft, lingering touch of her lips.
Her allure rose softly, wrapping around me like a soft blanket, enhancing my pleasure even further. Her hands found my back, her gentle caresses adding a perverse romance to the moment. For a moment, I was tempted to just apparate her to my bedroom, taking her in a slow, sensuous manner that she deserved. But there was only one problem for that.
"I was planning to bring you to a nice date," I started, pulling away from the kiss that lingered for minutes. Her face brightened, but then I spoke again. "But then, you had to go and lie about not missing my presence."
"But-" she started, the sudden panic on her face making the moment even more delicious. I pressed my finger to her lips, cutting her off.
"No buts. You told me a lie, and as a consequence, earned your punishment." I stopped for a second, like I was thinking seriously. A silence that stretched for a while after I saw the fleeting glance of panic on her face, and wanted to enhance it even more. "Maybe I should just turn and leave…" I mused, letting the silence to drag…
"No!" she exclaimed in panic, an instinctual response that proved just how far I had come in making her mine. I had sneaked in her home while her husband was in the living room, and for her, my leaving was still a punishment.
"Is something wrong, Fleur," came a shout from the living room, reminding Fleur that she needed to keep her voice down unless she wanted another visitor in the kitchen. It wasn't a real probability, as the spells I had put on him would just allow him to ask occasional questions, but Fleur didn't know that.
"Everything is alright-tt!" Fleur answered her husband, but her voice lost cohesion towards the end as I chose that exact moment to squeeze her ass. "Draco!" she whispered later, but it just made me repeat my action.
We both ignored William's careless response as I turned my gaze on her blue eyes, and she just stared, like a butterfly fascinated by the flame. "Now, on the subject of punishment, you will try to keep silent enough to keep Mr. Weasley unaware of our presence…" I murmured. She didn't understand my meaning until I waved my wand and vanished all of her clothing, except her pink apron.
The sudden change surprised her, so I decided to help her by restarting our kiss, using the second-most delicious method of silencing available. My arms around her now-naked back, I pulled her tight against my body, making her feel my hardness. Her arms were around me in an instant, tightening our embrace even further.
But there was still one problem, my clothes were preventing me from feeling her soft skin over mine. Luckily, it was not a hard problem to fix, another vanishing spell saw to it. Fleur's response was even more beautiful. Her kiss became even more intense as her hands traced my back muscles.
When we broke the kiss, she was panting hard, like she had just run a marathon. I gave her a moment to gather herself, using the opportunity to examine her body. Our kiss had managed to dislodge her apron enough to reveal one of her perfect breasts, though the other one made its presence known through her nipple, hardened with arousal, pressing against the fabric.
"It's good to see you don't have any complications about our game," I said as I suddenly grabbed her hair. The foreplay was over, and the real game was about to begin. After all, it wouldn't be punishment without a bit of roughness.
She was caught surprised by the sudden pull, and a pained yelp escaped her mouth. "Is something wrong," Bill shouted from the living room, but Fleur was unable to answer, because her mouth was otherwise occupied. She tried to push herself back panickedly, but my hands were firmly in place, forcing her to devour my girth instead. She looked up in a pitiful look, fearing that her lack of answer would drive her husband to check her.
I took pity on her and loosened my grip, enough for her to pull back. "My toe hit the corner of the chair-rr!" she explained, once again, the last part of her sentence sprayed in a panicked yelp as I used the opportunity to grasp her breasts, once again losing my fingers in their heavenly firmness.
"Careful, Fleur, you're awful clumsy lately, especially around the kitchen. Maybe you should take my mother's offer and let her teach how to work around the kitchen for a few days."
I was surprised by his response, which, funnily enough, wasn't a result of the spells I had put on him. I didn't know whether he was acting intentionally ostentatious, or he was truly unaware of the hostility between his wife and the rest of his family, but either way, it just worked to my benefit. There was no missing the fact that Fleur hated the suggestion with all of her might.
Fleur suddenly stood up, her face contorted with fury, but rather than reducing her beauty, it added a layer of edgy sexiness that I have never seen on her face. And, after a moment's consideration, I decided that I liked it, especially since it was accompanied by a transformation of her allure as well, turning the previously soft blanket into the flickering flames of arousal, making my blood flood faster.
And it wasn't the only change that had occurred. She put her hands on my shoulders, and pushed me back until I was lying on her kitchen table, which she promptly climbed on as well. "Maybe later, my dear husband," she shouted vindictively even as she aligned herself with my shaft, displaying an unbroken display of initiative for the first time in our twisted relationship.
"Just consider it, you need to learn how to cook better food," Bill shouted back, determined to make my job even easier.
"You mean English food," Fleur answered, somehow managing to compress her utter disregard for English cuisine and the utter loathing she felt against her husband in these four little words, while she was busy sinking herself onto my shaft. A soft gasp escaped her mouth when I decided to help her, and pushed my hips up, filling her up with my presence.
"The same thing," Bill answered, which couldn't have come in a more opportune moment. Insults to the cuisine of her homeland might not be as bad as fucking a man on the kitchen table of their own house, but sometimes, an excuse was all that was needed. Fleur didn't answer, leaving Bill alone with the delusion that he was the victorious one of that verbal sparring, while she focused on her insidious revenge.
She sank herself as deep as she could manage, her face contorted with pain an pleasure. She stayed deep for a moment, enjoying the sensation of being filled before pushing herself up once more, and replicating the move. Soon, she lost her ability to speak as well, her whole attention focused to contain her moans. Meanwhile, I leaned back, enjoying way her breasts danced with every movement in the loose confines of her apron.
As much as I enjoyed watching her dance, waiting passively while she did all the work didn't fit my personality well. I grabbed her bottom, squeezing it hard, forcing her to cry. Just like that, her angry gaze turned at me, tempered with a mischievousness. She raised herself enough to leave my shaft bereft of her warm embrace. "Maybe I should punish you instead, if that's the way you want to play."
My only response was a dark smile, which alerted her that things were about to change just a second before I jumped into the action. I rose to the sitting position with one hurried move, bringing my face just an inch away from hers. Before she could react, my arms were around her waist, and a twist later, she found herself laying on the table, her legs parted to both sides, with my shaft ready to penetration. But it wasn't her nether lips where it was pointing.
It was her puckered hole…