Hermione/Draco- Still Frame: Chapter 6: Another One Falls
Title: Still Frame: Chapter 6: Another One Falls
Author: butterflys_fics/blacksouledbutterfly
Rating: R
Word Count: 3,045
Summary: My name is Hermione Granger, and I am a private investigator. My cases were simple, but Draco Malfoy changed all that.
Warnings: Mentions of death, talk of sex.
Notes: In order to understand this, reading the earlier parts is a good idea. The chapter index can be found here.
Image by cérise @ TDA
After that dream I could have used a drink, a rather large one at that. Unfortunately for me I didn’t keep any alcohol at the office and I wasn’t feeling up for trying to get any either. My heart was still beating in my throat, the screams of the girl inside of my head still reverberating around like someone decided to put a song on repeat deep within my cranium. It was beginning to give me a headache that I was sure would only become worse the longer I stayed around Malfoy.
He watched me with clear gray eyes, taking in my every move like a predator stalking his prey. I shuddered involuntarily at the thought. After having dreamt of the man in question murdering a woman in front of me that wasn’t a comparison I appreciated my brain making.
“Is there a reason you wanted to speak to me?” I asked him and then had to clear my throat. It sounded a bit weaker than I liked, scratchy thanks to my dry throat. It was ironic considering how my throat felt in the dream I just had. The dream was so, so realistic though that I kept expecting to wake up and realize that this right here was, in fact, the dream; I kept expecting to wake up in that dark, dark room with a dead girl still tied to a chair, blood dripping all over the cold floor.
“The case, obviously,” he replied, a slow and wicked smile slowly starting to spread across his face, almost like he was beyond amused that I even had to ask that. He was rather unpredictable though so I can’t honestly say that it as all that odd that I needed to question why it was that he was speaking to me. When it came to him I knew that pretty much anything was possible. That was another statistic that wasn’t very comforting and made the dream slam into the front of my mind so my stomach churned and I felt bile slowly rising up the back of my throat.
I swallowed it down harshly, moving my chair back into its proper place at my desk, resting my arms on the top of it when I got there. The wood was cool and solid beneath my arms and was actually rather comforting and grounding. I wasn’t sure how sane I’d be able to stay at the moment without something keeping me tethered to reality. Right now this would do. It wasn’t much but it would definitely, definitely do for now.
“Well,” I started slowly. “If you’re asking me if I have any progress to report to you then you’ve wasted your time. If I had any news I would have contacted you to let you know. So far nothing new and nothing definitive.”
“I’m not checking up on you,” he replied, that wicked, confident look still on his face. “I’m actually here to give you a new bit of information, Granger. Perhaps it may prove useful.”
“Oh?”
“Another victim has surfaced, actually.”
I almost groaned out loud, I really did. It wasn’t something I wanted to do and I had to admit that all of these bodies were starting to be really, really intimidating. I had probably bitten off more than I could chew with this assignment. Much, much more. “Shall I guess? Another…lover or yours?”
“No, not this time.” I can’t say I wasn’t surprised when he said that but he didn’t seem to notice. He just kept right on talking. “This one would be one of Blaise’s.”
“Oh, lovely.” If he didn’t pick up the sarcasm in my voice he was utterly and totally dense. Another girlfriend or lover or whatever of a pureblood extremist had turned up dead. This wasn’t boding well. I was actually considering the notion of letting the Daily Prophet know exactly what it was that was going on in this world. Or passing out flyers in Diagon Alley to let them know what had happened. Anything to let the public know that someone apparently didn’t like girls being involved with pureblood extremists. Or maybe it was just the women involved with Malfoy and Zabini that whoever was doing this didn’t seem to like. Or it could still be Malfoy. I wasn’t sold on his being innocent yet. I wasn’t sure if I would ever be. He was insistent when he declared his innocence but most people are, aren’t they? Guilty or not most people- or most sane people often said they were innocent and that certainly wasn’t always the case. I had the sinking suspicion that this may have been one of those times.
“Sarcasm suits you quite well, Granger,” he noted, the corner of his mouth threatening to twitch into a genuine smile. “You should use it more often.”
“I’m afraid you may be rubbing off on me.” Lifting up one hand I pinched the bridge of my nose, sighing a bit. “So, another body means another person to collect data on.” Releasing my nose I motioned towards him. “What would this woman happened to be named?”
“Alyssa Cobb. She was eighteen.”
“Eighteen?” I let out this low sound that was almost a whistle but not quite. “Good to know that morals aren’t dead.”
“That makes her still legal,’ Malfoy argued, a tiny hit of amusement in his voice. “That’s all that matters. Legally. And you seem to be forgetting- it isn’t as though Blaise forced her into anything. It was a mutually beneficial situation.”
“Mutually beneficial?”
“Both men and women enjoy a good shagging, Granger. So, yes. The situation was mutually beneficial. Both Blaise and Alyssa received sexual gratification with no strings attached.”
“There should be strings,” I argued, rolling my eyes at him as I sat back in my seat, folding my arms across my chest. “There is no such thing as having sex with someone and it not affecting both parties. When you sleep with someone it gives them a part of you and gives you a part of them, Malfoy. It forms some kind of connection whether the people admit it or not.”
“That’s a very spiritual view on something very basic and primal,” he noted, lifting one of his eyebrows in what I could only assume was amusement based on the tone of his voice. “You always seemed to be more concerned with facts when we were in school. When did you suddenly become so spiritual?”
“I’m not trying to be spiritual. I’m trying to be logical. This is about it effecting your mind or your heart. That’s not spiritual.”
“So, you’ve never had someone you just shagged but weren’t in a relationship with? No one-night stands? No ‘friends with benefits’?”
“No.”
“Well, I must say, you don’t know what you’re missing,” he told me, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth with what seemed to be actual disappointment. “You ought to experience as much as you can in your life. And to do that sometimes you need to step outside of your comfort zone.”
I wasn’t sure what he was trying to get at with that. After all, working with him was definitely stepping outside of my comfort zone. It wasn’t as though he and I were mates in Hogwarts or anything of the like. We didn’t really actually speak, even if we happened upon each other while we were out. It had happened a couple of times in Diagon Alley and we had both merely glanced at each other and then kept on walking.
If he was trying to convince me that it would be a good idea to try out the casual sex thing then he was talking to the wrong girl. I wasn’t about to turn into a person who went off and slept with whoever was willing, wouldn’t turn into that person even if I didn’t currently have a boyfriend. That was merely the extra incentive to keep any sexual urges I may have in check though I could honestly say those urges didn’t include the desire to sleep with a random group of men. And why would it? What good could possibly come from that? All that it would do was give a piece of me to all of them. I don’t honestly think I needed sexual gratification from a large amount of men to be truly satisfied.
“As broadening as your little life of casual sex must be,” I started, standing up from my seat. “It isn’t the life for me. And in case you didn’t notice, Malfoy- men can get away with that far easier than women. When women do it they’re considered slags. Even if that weren’t the case, however, I wouldn’t want to engage in that kind of a life.”
Making my way around my desk I started for the door, intent on getting him to leave my office so I could try to do a little research about the newest victim and then head home before I came back and jut worked my arse off again the next day. If this wasn’t so important and he wasn’t paying me so well I would have quit in an instant. This was exhausting work.
His hand shot out and clamped down on my arm. I froze as he pulled me back and made sure my back connected with my desk before he stood up, eyes fixed on my face. “Do you really have such a low opinion of my life?” he asked me quietly but there was a storm behind his eyes, like maybe he was really, really angry and was just hiding it pretty well.
“Does what I think of your life really matter? It’s your life. You’re free to do whatever you want to.”
“You’re wrong,” he said as though I hadn’t ever spoken at all, still using that same quiet tone. “It isn’t exactly casual. It might not be as high and refined as you would consider your relationships but they weren’t exactly casual. And while I can only speak for myself and not Blaise I can honestly say that I cared about them. I may not have been in love with them but I cared about them. And I didn’t want them dead.”
I wasn’t sure if I believed him though he seemed to be sincere. It was just very difficult to believe that he could honestly care for any of the women he slept with so casually. And he may have been telling me that it wasn’t casual but there was no other way to aptly describe it. There was no love, no dedication. That was the definition of casual in my mind.
“That still doesn’t explain why you care what I think about your life.” It wasn’t a good idea for me to let him know that I thought he was lying. Not when we were that close together. There was no guarantee that I wouldn’t upset him something fierce and possibly end up getting hurt. Even if he wasn’t the killer that didn’t mean that he couldn’t or wouldn’t hurt me.
“It’s called being curious,” he droned, sounding very bored with the idea of me questioning him about that. “I wouldn’t s much say that I care. I’m just curious.”
“Just because you’re curious that doesn’t mean I have to give you an answer.”
Some kind of an emotion spread across his face, flashing there and then disappearing before I could accurately access what it was. And then he released my arm and his hands were on my waist and he lifted me up, sitting me on my desk with a small thud. I gasped when I made contact with the wood having not been prepared to be moved so suddenly, not having been prepared to have him hoist me up like that.
“You know, Granger,” he started almost casually, stepping closer to me, his body resting against my knees. “You aren’t exactly convinced right now that I’m not the person who is killing these girls. As such you should try to upset me as little as possible, don’t you think?”
I swallowed hard. “In theory, yes,” I agreed. “But sometimes you make it far too easy.”
Malfoy let out a sound that was almost a scoff, almost a laugh, his gaze drilling down into my very soul as he watched me with his cool, cool gray eyes. “No, you’re just extraordinarily good at being completely and totally infuriating.” His hands were still on my waist and while it was a very odd feeling it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. It was actually making this strange humming sound filter around in my brain, a sound I wasn’t accustomed to and didn’t quite understand. It was a bit intimidating but also a bit intoxicating.
“Sometimes I do believe that you enjoy upsetting me,” he accused, one corner or his mouth turning up a bit at the side though I wasn’t sure whether he was fighting off a smile or a smirk. With him either was a possibility. “I think you get a great thrill out of it.”
His fingers slid beneath the hem of my sweater, seeking out skin. His palms pressed against my sides, his cool fingers against my back. It made me shiver beneath his touch which was actually quite embarrassing. I didn’t like that he was able to make me shiver with such a simple touch. It almost felt perverted then he hadn’t really touched me in an inappropriate way.
But there was something appealing about the touch of his hands on my skin rather than through the fabric of my clothes and I hated that, hated that I was actually thrilled at the idea of his touch. It was wrong. So very, very wrong.
“Am I right?” he questioned, fingers needing at my skin. “Do you get some kind of a thrill out of it, Granger?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Yes, you do,” he insisted, leaning closer to me. His breath was warm on my face. Turning his head to the side his mouth went so close to my ear that I could almost feel them pressing against the skin. “You know exactly what I mean,” he continued. “I want to know if it thrills you. I want to know if pissing me off happens to get you off.”
“What?!?” I knew that my voice was shrill but I couldn’t help it. That was such an embarrassing question but it was also just so bizarre. Why he would ask something like that was beyond me. “Of course not!”
“Somehow I don’t believe you.” He moved his mouth and pressed his lips against my neck, soft and moist. My breath caught in my throat, a shudder running up my spine. This was just really, really bad. It was like he had put some kind of a spell on me because I found myself unable to move, barely able to breathe.
“I think you enjoy getting my angry very, very much,” he insisted against my skin. His tongue pushed past his lips, touched the side of my neck. I tried to swallow it but a small, pathetic sound crawled up my throat. He smiled against my skin and then his tongue touched my skin again and he licked a slow, moist line up my neck and to my ear, his breath warm against my skin.
I closed my eyes and bit down on my bottom lip, feeling somehow cold and hot all at once. My brain was split, half of it yelling at me to run and half of it enjoying the attention.
His teeth made contact with my jaw, nipping at the skin there in a way that was just shy of being painful but very, very pleasant, pleasant enough that I whimpered and shuddering and cursed myself for not being able to bring myself to move. And then the nipping moved, down the line of my jaw and to my chin, moving so slowly that I was actually waiting for each new nip which was just wrong. So very, very wrong.
He slid one hand up the side, resting it on my ribcage and the other slid out of my shirt so he could reach up and take my chin in my hand, tilting my head down a little. My eyes opened, watching him for a second because I couldn’t even begin to guess what it was that he was thinking right now.
And that’s when his mouth descended down onto mine, his head tilted slightly to the side as our mouths met. The touch was soft at first, too soft, so soft that it made me whimper again and that seemed to draw him on because his hand slid away from my chin and to the back of my head, his long fingers tangling in my hair and drawing me closer to him, cupping the back of my head.
He pulled me closer to him, our bodies almost pressed against each other he deepened the kiss and it was this whole meshing of lips and tongues and teeth; it was kisses and nips and whimpers and sighs. It was almost too much to bear, almost too much to process and it made my head spin, made my stomach clench in a very appealing manner. It was so, so enjoyable that I could scarcely believe that it was happening.
His mouth left mine and while my eyes had closed when the kissing started they opened right back up when his mouth left mine. His eyes met mine, something shimmering inside of those depths I couldn’t comprehend. “I think you enjoy getting to me much more than you yourself even realize,” he said quietly.
And then as quickly as he had grabbed me he let me go, stepping back from me, his fingers untangling from my hair as his hands moved away from me and headed to the door, waving at me over his shoulder. “Keep me updated with your investigation, won’t you?”
He exited my office like a muggle would and closed the door behind me, leaving me to reach up and press my fingers against my mouth as I remained on my desk.
Levi would kill me if he knew about this.
Author: butterflys_fics/blacksouledbutterfly
Rating: R
Word Count: 3,045
Summary: My name is Hermione Granger, and I am a private investigator. My cases were simple, but Draco Malfoy changed all that.
Warnings: Mentions of death, talk of sex.
Notes: In order to understand this, reading the earlier parts is a good idea. The chapter index can be found here.
Image by cérise @ TDA
After that dream I could have used a drink, a rather large one at that. Unfortunately for me I didn’t keep any alcohol at the office and I wasn’t feeling up for trying to get any either. My heart was still beating in my throat, the screams of the girl inside of my head still reverberating around like someone decided to put a song on repeat deep within my cranium. It was beginning to give me a headache that I was sure would only become worse the longer I stayed around Malfoy.
He watched me with clear gray eyes, taking in my every move like a predator stalking his prey. I shuddered involuntarily at the thought. After having dreamt of the man in question murdering a woman in front of me that wasn’t a comparison I appreciated my brain making.
“Is there a reason you wanted to speak to me?” I asked him and then had to clear my throat. It sounded a bit weaker than I liked, scratchy thanks to my dry throat. It was ironic considering how my throat felt in the dream I just had. The dream was so, so realistic though that I kept expecting to wake up and realize that this right here was, in fact, the dream; I kept expecting to wake up in that dark, dark room with a dead girl still tied to a chair, blood dripping all over the cold floor.
“The case, obviously,” he replied, a slow and wicked smile slowly starting to spread across his face, almost like he was beyond amused that I even had to ask that. He was rather unpredictable though so I can’t honestly say that it as all that odd that I needed to question why it was that he was speaking to me. When it came to him I knew that pretty much anything was possible. That was another statistic that wasn’t very comforting and made the dream slam into the front of my mind so my stomach churned and I felt bile slowly rising up the back of my throat.
I swallowed it down harshly, moving my chair back into its proper place at my desk, resting my arms on the top of it when I got there. The wood was cool and solid beneath my arms and was actually rather comforting and grounding. I wasn’t sure how sane I’d be able to stay at the moment without something keeping me tethered to reality. Right now this would do. It wasn’t much but it would definitely, definitely do for now.
“Well,” I started slowly. “If you’re asking me if I have any progress to report to you then you’ve wasted your time. If I had any news I would have contacted you to let you know. So far nothing new and nothing definitive.”
“I’m not checking up on you,” he replied, that wicked, confident look still on his face. “I’m actually here to give you a new bit of information, Granger. Perhaps it may prove useful.”
“Oh?”
“Another victim has surfaced, actually.”
I almost groaned out loud, I really did. It wasn’t something I wanted to do and I had to admit that all of these bodies were starting to be really, really intimidating. I had probably bitten off more than I could chew with this assignment. Much, much more. “Shall I guess? Another…lover or yours?”
“No, not this time.” I can’t say I wasn’t surprised when he said that but he didn’t seem to notice. He just kept right on talking. “This one would be one of Blaise’s.”
“Oh, lovely.” If he didn’t pick up the sarcasm in my voice he was utterly and totally dense. Another girlfriend or lover or whatever of a pureblood extremist had turned up dead. This wasn’t boding well. I was actually considering the notion of letting the Daily Prophet know exactly what it was that was going on in this world. Or passing out flyers in Diagon Alley to let them know what had happened. Anything to let the public know that someone apparently didn’t like girls being involved with pureblood extremists. Or maybe it was just the women involved with Malfoy and Zabini that whoever was doing this didn’t seem to like. Or it could still be Malfoy. I wasn’t sold on his being innocent yet. I wasn’t sure if I would ever be. He was insistent when he declared his innocence but most people are, aren’t they? Guilty or not most people- or most sane people often said they were innocent and that certainly wasn’t always the case. I had the sinking suspicion that this may have been one of those times.
“Sarcasm suits you quite well, Granger,” he noted, the corner of his mouth threatening to twitch into a genuine smile. “You should use it more often.”
“I’m afraid you may be rubbing off on me.” Lifting up one hand I pinched the bridge of my nose, sighing a bit. “So, another body means another person to collect data on.” Releasing my nose I motioned towards him. “What would this woman happened to be named?”
“Alyssa Cobb. She was eighteen.”
“Eighteen?” I let out this low sound that was almost a whistle but not quite. “Good to know that morals aren’t dead.”
“That makes her still legal,’ Malfoy argued, a tiny hit of amusement in his voice. “That’s all that matters. Legally. And you seem to be forgetting- it isn’t as though Blaise forced her into anything. It was a mutually beneficial situation.”
“Mutually beneficial?”
“Both men and women enjoy a good shagging, Granger. So, yes. The situation was mutually beneficial. Both Blaise and Alyssa received sexual gratification with no strings attached.”
“There should be strings,” I argued, rolling my eyes at him as I sat back in my seat, folding my arms across my chest. “There is no such thing as having sex with someone and it not affecting both parties. When you sleep with someone it gives them a part of you and gives you a part of them, Malfoy. It forms some kind of connection whether the people admit it or not.”
“That’s a very spiritual view on something very basic and primal,” he noted, lifting one of his eyebrows in what I could only assume was amusement based on the tone of his voice. “You always seemed to be more concerned with facts when we were in school. When did you suddenly become so spiritual?”
“I’m not trying to be spiritual. I’m trying to be logical. This is about it effecting your mind or your heart. That’s not spiritual.”
“So, you’ve never had someone you just shagged but weren’t in a relationship with? No one-night stands? No ‘friends with benefits’?”
“No.”
“Well, I must say, you don’t know what you’re missing,” he told me, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth with what seemed to be actual disappointment. “You ought to experience as much as you can in your life. And to do that sometimes you need to step outside of your comfort zone.”
I wasn’t sure what he was trying to get at with that. After all, working with him was definitely stepping outside of my comfort zone. It wasn’t as though he and I were mates in Hogwarts or anything of the like. We didn’t really actually speak, even if we happened upon each other while we were out. It had happened a couple of times in Diagon Alley and we had both merely glanced at each other and then kept on walking.
If he was trying to convince me that it would be a good idea to try out the casual sex thing then he was talking to the wrong girl. I wasn’t about to turn into a person who went off and slept with whoever was willing, wouldn’t turn into that person even if I didn’t currently have a boyfriend. That was merely the extra incentive to keep any sexual urges I may have in check though I could honestly say those urges didn’t include the desire to sleep with a random group of men. And why would it? What good could possibly come from that? All that it would do was give a piece of me to all of them. I don’t honestly think I needed sexual gratification from a large amount of men to be truly satisfied.
“As broadening as your little life of casual sex must be,” I started, standing up from my seat. “It isn’t the life for me. And in case you didn’t notice, Malfoy- men can get away with that far easier than women. When women do it they’re considered slags. Even if that weren’t the case, however, I wouldn’t want to engage in that kind of a life.”
Making my way around my desk I started for the door, intent on getting him to leave my office so I could try to do a little research about the newest victim and then head home before I came back and jut worked my arse off again the next day. If this wasn’t so important and he wasn’t paying me so well I would have quit in an instant. This was exhausting work.
His hand shot out and clamped down on my arm. I froze as he pulled me back and made sure my back connected with my desk before he stood up, eyes fixed on my face. “Do you really have such a low opinion of my life?” he asked me quietly but there was a storm behind his eyes, like maybe he was really, really angry and was just hiding it pretty well.
“Does what I think of your life really matter? It’s your life. You’re free to do whatever you want to.”
“You’re wrong,” he said as though I hadn’t ever spoken at all, still using that same quiet tone. “It isn’t exactly casual. It might not be as high and refined as you would consider your relationships but they weren’t exactly casual. And while I can only speak for myself and not Blaise I can honestly say that I cared about them. I may not have been in love with them but I cared about them. And I didn’t want them dead.”
I wasn’t sure if I believed him though he seemed to be sincere. It was just very difficult to believe that he could honestly care for any of the women he slept with so casually. And he may have been telling me that it wasn’t casual but there was no other way to aptly describe it. There was no love, no dedication. That was the definition of casual in my mind.
“That still doesn’t explain why you care what I think about your life.” It wasn’t a good idea for me to let him know that I thought he was lying. Not when we were that close together. There was no guarantee that I wouldn’t upset him something fierce and possibly end up getting hurt. Even if he wasn’t the killer that didn’t mean that he couldn’t or wouldn’t hurt me.
“It’s called being curious,” he droned, sounding very bored with the idea of me questioning him about that. “I wouldn’t s much say that I care. I’m just curious.”
“Just because you’re curious that doesn’t mean I have to give you an answer.”
Some kind of an emotion spread across his face, flashing there and then disappearing before I could accurately access what it was. And then he released my arm and his hands were on my waist and he lifted me up, sitting me on my desk with a small thud. I gasped when I made contact with the wood having not been prepared to be moved so suddenly, not having been prepared to have him hoist me up like that.
“You know, Granger,” he started almost casually, stepping closer to me, his body resting against my knees. “You aren’t exactly convinced right now that I’m not the person who is killing these girls. As such you should try to upset me as little as possible, don’t you think?”
I swallowed hard. “In theory, yes,” I agreed. “But sometimes you make it far too easy.”
Malfoy let out a sound that was almost a scoff, almost a laugh, his gaze drilling down into my very soul as he watched me with his cool, cool gray eyes. “No, you’re just extraordinarily good at being completely and totally infuriating.” His hands were still on my waist and while it was a very odd feeling it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. It was actually making this strange humming sound filter around in my brain, a sound I wasn’t accustomed to and didn’t quite understand. It was a bit intimidating but also a bit intoxicating.
“Sometimes I do believe that you enjoy upsetting me,” he accused, one corner or his mouth turning up a bit at the side though I wasn’t sure whether he was fighting off a smile or a smirk. With him either was a possibility. “I think you get a great thrill out of it.”
His fingers slid beneath the hem of my sweater, seeking out skin. His palms pressed against my sides, his cool fingers against my back. It made me shiver beneath his touch which was actually quite embarrassing. I didn’t like that he was able to make me shiver with such a simple touch. It almost felt perverted then he hadn’t really touched me in an inappropriate way.
But there was something appealing about the touch of his hands on my skin rather than through the fabric of my clothes and I hated that, hated that I was actually thrilled at the idea of his touch. It was wrong. So very, very wrong.
“Am I right?” he questioned, fingers needing at my skin. “Do you get some kind of a thrill out of it, Granger?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Yes, you do,” he insisted, leaning closer to me. His breath was warm on my face. Turning his head to the side his mouth went so close to my ear that I could almost feel them pressing against the skin. “You know exactly what I mean,” he continued. “I want to know if it thrills you. I want to know if pissing me off happens to get you off.”
“What?!?” I knew that my voice was shrill but I couldn’t help it. That was such an embarrassing question but it was also just so bizarre. Why he would ask something like that was beyond me. “Of course not!”
“Somehow I don’t believe you.” He moved his mouth and pressed his lips against my neck, soft and moist. My breath caught in my throat, a shudder running up my spine. This was just really, really bad. It was like he had put some kind of a spell on me because I found myself unable to move, barely able to breathe.
“I think you enjoy getting my angry very, very much,” he insisted against my skin. His tongue pushed past his lips, touched the side of my neck. I tried to swallow it but a small, pathetic sound crawled up my throat. He smiled against my skin and then his tongue touched my skin again and he licked a slow, moist line up my neck and to my ear, his breath warm against my skin.
I closed my eyes and bit down on my bottom lip, feeling somehow cold and hot all at once. My brain was split, half of it yelling at me to run and half of it enjoying the attention.
His teeth made contact with my jaw, nipping at the skin there in a way that was just shy of being painful but very, very pleasant, pleasant enough that I whimpered and shuddering and cursed myself for not being able to bring myself to move. And then the nipping moved, down the line of my jaw and to my chin, moving so slowly that I was actually waiting for each new nip which was just wrong. So very, very wrong.
He slid one hand up the side, resting it on my ribcage and the other slid out of my shirt so he could reach up and take my chin in my hand, tilting my head down a little. My eyes opened, watching him for a second because I couldn’t even begin to guess what it was that he was thinking right now.
And that’s when his mouth descended down onto mine, his head tilted slightly to the side as our mouths met. The touch was soft at first, too soft, so soft that it made me whimper again and that seemed to draw him on because his hand slid away from my chin and to the back of my head, his long fingers tangling in my hair and drawing me closer to him, cupping the back of my head.
He pulled me closer to him, our bodies almost pressed against each other he deepened the kiss and it was this whole meshing of lips and tongues and teeth; it was kisses and nips and whimpers and sighs. It was almost too much to bear, almost too much to process and it made my head spin, made my stomach clench in a very appealing manner. It was so, so enjoyable that I could scarcely believe that it was happening.
His mouth left mine and while my eyes had closed when the kissing started they opened right back up when his mouth left mine. His eyes met mine, something shimmering inside of those depths I couldn’t comprehend. “I think you enjoy getting to me much more than you yourself even realize,” he said quietly.
And then as quickly as he had grabbed me he let me go, stepping back from me, his fingers untangling from my hair as his hands moved away from me and headed to the door, waving at me over his shoulder. “Keep me updated with your investigation, won’t you?”
He exited my office like a muggle would and closed the door behind me, leaving me to reach up and press my fingers against my mouth as I remained on my desk.
Levi would kill me if he knew about this.