Hermione was nearly finished with her patrol when she suddenly found herself pushed against the stone wall in a dark corner of the castle. Her hand loosened her grip on her wand when she saw who was standing before her.
“You let him touch you!”
“It’s none of your business, Parkinson. Now get out of my way.”
“Did you like him touching you, Granger?” Pansy asked sharply. She pressed closer, her breath on Hermione’s ear as she said harshly, “Did you want him to touch you here?”
“Stop it,” Hermione snarled when she felt Pansy’s hand moving over her chest. The hall was silent except for the sound of their breathing. No one would hear her if she called for help. God help her, she didn’t want to call for help. Shame and confusion flashed in her brown eyes as she tried to shove past Pansy, but the petite Slytherin was stronger than she looked. She kept Hermione firmly against the wall, her body moving even closer.
“Did you want him to do this?” she asked as she opened Hermione’s robe. Moving her hand beneath the brunette’s shirt, her hand squeezed the plump breast she found. “”Did you want him to touch your breasts, you filthy Mudblood whore?”
“Don’t call me that name!”
“Why?” Pansy asked with a hint of amusement. “It’s what you are. My pretty little Mudblood whore. I can feel your nipples hard against my palm, Granger. I bet you’re soaking wet. Should I check? Do you want me to slide my hand into your white cotton knickers and fuck you with my fingers?”
“Please don’t,” Hermione moaned softly, knowing exactly what Pansy would find.
“Never tell me what to do,” Pansy hissed before ripping open Hermione’s shirt. Her eyes moved over the pretty Gryffindor, heated and hungry, her tongue moving along her lips as she lowered her head. She began to lick and suck Hermione’s breasts, biting and nibbling the tender flesh as her hand moved beneath the Gryffindor’s skirt. “You *are* wet, Granger. My, my. What would those imbeciles you call friends say about that?”
“Stop. You can’t do this,” she whimpered as two elegant fingers suddenly thrust into her wet cunt. Pansy went back to biting and licking her breasts, not caring if she broke the skin or left marks. Hermione’s fingers tangled in Pansy’s shoulder length black hair, her body moving against the fingers buried inside her.
“Did you want him to touch you here? Did you want his hand in your cunt? Did it make you wet thinking about him fucking you against the wall in a dark corner?”
“Never. Only you, Pansy. Only you,” Hermione whispered right before Pansy’s lips caught hers.
Pansy brushed her thumb against Hermione’s clit, moving in forceful circles as she felt juices flowing, covering her hand. Hermione tasted of peppermint and chocolate, the treat that Potter had given her following dinner most likely. Thinking of the way Potter had touched the brunette, the look in his eyes that Pansy recognized as lust and desire, the way she had allowed him to touch her for all to see, it made her even more angry. She could never have that really, could never touch Hermione during the middle of the meal, could never laugh or hug or snog her for all to see. They had dark corners, small closets, the Prefects bathroom, the trees at the edge of the Forbidden forest. Always somewhere that no one was likely to catch them.
“You’re hurting me,” Hermione said when she felt Pansy add a third finger inside her, the strokes becoming more brutal and less pleasurable.
“You’re nothing but a Mudblood, a slut. You let him touch your arse and you laughed. You wanted to kneel and suck his cock didn’t you? You wanted him to fuck you hard and fast, spread you wide and fuck you until you were hoarse from screaming. Just a whore, nothing but a whore. I hate you!”
“What if I did?” Hermione snapped. “What if I wanted to strip down in the middle of the Great Hall and shag the entire Gryffindor Quidditch team? You have no say in what I do, Parkinson. You made it abundantly clear the first time that you only wanted sex so who is the real whore? I was willing to try for more but you were too scared about your reputation and what others might say. You gave up your chance of saying who I could and could not shag months ago!”
“Bitch,” Pansy growled, “stuck up, bossy little know-it-all Mudblood whore.”
“I’ll fuck him tonight. After this, I’ll go back and I’ll ride him long and hard. Tomorrow, I’ll give you my used knickers and let you smell him on me. You’d like that wouldn’t you?” Hermione asked as her hands moved over Pansy’s arse, squeezing the firm flesh before disappearing beneath her skirt and sliding into her knickers. “If I’m such a worthless whore, I’ll fuck them all. I’ll let them take my mouth, my cunt, my arse. Is that what you want? Me on my knees with three cocks fucking me so you can sit all alone in your room and know that I’m nothing more than a piece of arse. You don’t care about me but you hate that someone else might have me.”
“Don’t,” she whispered, groaning as Hermione’s fingers found her soaking cunt. “You’re too good for them…too good for me. I hate when he touches you, Granger, because I know he wants more. He wants to be here with you like this, on his knees with his tongue lapping at you until you’re screaming his name. I hate him for thinking those thoughts about you. I hate you for making me care!”
“I don’t want him. I don’t want anyone but you,” Hermione said softly. “Make me come, Pansy. Please just fuck me.”
“Hermione,” Pansy moaned as she moved against the fingers inside her. It wasn’t long before they were both coming, kissing passionately as they leaned against the wall. When she pulled away, Pansy licked her fingers. “I love how you taste. If you let him touch you again, I’m chaining you to my bed, Granger. You’re mine and you’d better not forget it.”
“Fuck you, Parkinson,” Hermione smiled as she straightened her clothes. “Same time tomorrow?”
“Of course,” Pansy drawled, a wicked smile crossing her lips, “but let’s meet in the Prefects bathroom. I want to lay you out and fuck you for hours.”
Hermione kissed her before whispering, “Sounds good. Sweet dreams, love.”
“By the way, remind me not to let you go to any more Quidditch matches,” Pansy said with a wink as she walked away from her lover, listening to Hermione’s laugh follow her.
The end.