Chapter Text
“Please tell me that you at least came before the bloody Weasel showed up,” Draco said in a flat tone.
Pansy glared at the dance floor until a drink appeared in front of her. She took it from Draco and gulped, sputtering when Firewhiskey raced down her throat. She coughed and turned her glare to her best friend. “Fuck, warn a girl! And no, I did not. Asshole.”
Draco leaned against the bar as he sipped at his brandy. “Are we talking about Weasley or Gregory at this point of the conversation?”
“He didn’t touch me at all during dinner!”
“Of which I am incredibly grateful,” Draco said. “Considering my child was right there.”
Pansy rolled her eyes. “Please. He was fine. Granger wouldn’t have let him see anything.” She took a deep breath before downing the rest of the Firewhiskey. “He didn’t do anything,” she complained. “And he knew I didn’t have my knickers on!”
Draco’s eyes fell shut and he brought his glass up to his forehead. “Merlin, help me ignore the things I do not need to know.”
“And now he’s dancing with Astoria! Astoria, who was the one who invited him to this wedding! Did you know that?” Draco’s eyes popped open at her question and he sighed while nodding. “Astoria Greengrass, who hired him as an Inquiry!”
“Yes, well -”
“Astoria Greengrass, who was having a relationship with my former boyfriend while he was my current boyfriend !”
“Yes, I heard him at -”
“Astoria Greengrass, who invited him and is dancing with him and is probably going to fuck him later even though it was me he had against the wall not even an hour ago!”
“Pansy -”
“Pansy.”
Both Pansy and Draco turned to see Greg suddenly standing next to them. His eyes were dark, anger evident on his face, and his lips were pressed into a thin line.
“ Goyle,” Pansy sneered before turning back to Draco. A hand plucked her glass from her hand and set it on the bar. “Hey!”
“Dance with me,” Greg said tersely. She didn’t respond and Greg’s hand waited in front of her, palm up. Next to them, Draco raised his eyebrows and watched. Greg leaned down when Pansy still didn’t speak or move. “It wasn’t a request, Pansy.”
Something in his tone set excitement racing through her, but she tried not to react. One look at Draco’s smirk told her she wasn't successful. Slowly, Pansy brought her hand up, slid her palm against his, until his fingers curled around hers. He spun her and began to walk toward the dance floor. A look over her shoulder saw Draco lifting his glass, this time to tilt it toward her in a salute.
Greg led her to a corner of the dance floor, slightly away from the crowd of people. A slower song played so his hands drifted to her hips, moving around to her back where he settled them right at the base of her spine. Pansy wrapped her arms over his shoulders and laced her fingers behind his neck.
“You gonna tell me what the fuck is up your arse?” He smirked at her and let a hand drift down to tap at the rounded curves he mentioned, laughing when she reached behind to slap his arm away. “Cause it sure as hell isn’t me. Not yet, anyway.”
“At this rate, you’re never getting there,” she muttered darkly.
Greg raised his eyebrows. “Oh?”
Pansy stayed silent but swayed back and forth with him. She glared at his chest - his stupid muscled ches t - and ignored him as best she could while dancing with him. She looked up only when the song ended and switched to something with a heavier beat. His face was blank, giving none of his thoughts away.
“So you’re an Inquiry.” He raised an eyebrow at her. He’d already given the table an entire rundown of what he’d been up to since the final Battle, including how he’d come into his career. Pansy rolled her eyes. “And you... Worked for Astoria Greengrass.”
“Astoria hired me, yes.” He gave her a pointed look, but laughed - an amused deep laugh - when Pansy’s lips formed a sneer at the name. “Never thought I’d say this, but green isn’t your color anymore.”
“You think I’m jealous ?” she spat. It didn’t matter that she was - just a teeny little bit - but she wasn’t about to admit it. Greg stayed silent, slowing his movements, until he was barely moving. Pansy turned her face, trying to find a point of focus that wasn’t Gregory Goyle. To her chagrin, it was the gaze of Astoria Greengrass that caught her attention, and the younger girl sent a smile her way, a knowing look in her eyes. She knew she stared too long when Greg leaned down, his lips touching the top of her ear.
“Sure you’re not jealous?”
Pansy pulled away and glared. “Oh, fuck off.”
When she turned to walk away, Greg wrapped a hand around her elbow and pulled her back against him, spinning her back around. His voice was low so no one would hear him but her. “What the hell is your problem? And don’t say nothing, I’m not an idiot.”
Pansy took a deep breath. “Are you here with Astoria?”
Greg’s face twisted into a grimace. “What?”
“Are. You. Here. With. Astoria?” She punctuated each word harshly, jabbing a finger to the middle of his chest until he grabbed it. “Well?”
He scoffed at her. “You think I’m the type of guy to fuck someone against a wall while I’m here with another woman?” Greg let go of her hand and this time, he was the one who stepped away from Pansy. “Don’t think much of me, then, do you?”
“I don’t know you now,” Pansy hissed angrily. “For all I know, you’re just like -”
Greg’s eyes narrowed. “I’m going to say this once - once - and you’re going to listen and decide what you want.” He glanced around and noticed a few other guests glancing at the two of them. He pulled at Pansy’s elbow and led her to a nearby corner where there were less people.
“I don’t play games - not like the ones Weasley did. You want me to tie you to the bed? Spank you until your arse is as red and bruised as the fucking Gryffindor colors? Fuck your throat until you can’t breathe? I’ll do that, but I’ll only do that with one witch at a time. I don’t fucking cheat. I’ve seen enough of that in my line of work. You want a fucking good time tonight? I’ll give it to you. You want to compare me to that bastard ex of yours? I followed that fucker for almost an entire year to find out everything I did. I’m not him. ”
Pansy stared at him, held his gaze. She tried not to let him see how his words affected her. The scenarios he laid out for her mixed with Ron’s voice in her mind saying “It was only once” and “I was drunk” and “Come off it, Pans, we haven’t had sex in Merlin knows how long, what else was I to do?”
It was too much all at once - the fire running through her veins, Astoria’s look - did she just wink, Hermione’s concerned gaze from across the room.
“I have to go,” she said, her voice softer than it had been. She pulled away from Greg’s hold and spun away.
“Pansy!” Greg called after her, but she ignored him.
Out on one of the balconies, Pansy curled her fingers around the railing, squeezing so tight, she knew she would find lines on her palms when she let go. She breathed in deeply, counting to eight as she exhaled, trying to calm the uncertainty in her mind, the thudding of her heart.
She thought she was ready for something, thought she knew what she wanted.
Maybe she didn’t know.
The air was muggy around her, but she ignored the call of using a cooling spell. The heat pressed against her, made her focus on breathing steadily to cool herself down naturally. After what felt like hours but was probably only minutes, she heard footsteps behind her.
“What’s that Muggle saying? Always the bridesmaid, never the bride.”
Pansy’s breath hitched. “Ron.”
He didn’t say anything more, so Pansy turned around slowly to face him. His face was cleaned up from the fight earlier though she could see tiny specks of blood on the collar of his shirt. She wondered why he didn’t clean it.
“What?”
Ron huffed out a laugh. “Just checking on you.” His lip curled into a sneer. “How’s it feel? To know you’ve been used and thrown away?”
Pansy felt the anger rise again and she tensed. “When you did it to me? I don’t remember. I stopped caring.” When she tried to walk past him, he tried to grab her arm to stop her, but Pansy side-stepped around him and shoved him against the wall. “Leave me alone, Ronald. I don’t need anything from you. I don’t want you.”
With a new type of fire in her step, Pansy stalked back into the ballroom and let her eyes roam the entire room.
There.
Greg was speaking to Daphne and Harry, Astoria and the Malfoys next to them. She made her way to the group, smiling widely - possibly a bit too widely - at the newlyweds.
“Daphne, congratulations,” she said in a controlled tone. “Potter.” She made a face. “Ugh, you’re both Potters.”
Harry smiled bemusedly at her but graciously thanked her.
“It’s been a lovely party. Can I steal one of your guests? Thank you.”
She didn’t wait for an answer, but ran a hand down Greg’s arm and laced her fingers with his. Without another word, she began to walk away. Though he easily could have stopped her or refused to follow, Greg instead saluted the group and let Pansy lead him out of the ballroom. She stopped only when they were in the main lobby of the hotel once more.
Greg said nothing, waiting.
Pansy took in a deep breath before lifting her chin to meet his gaze. Her eyes were wide. She parted her lips.
“Will you really do everything you said?”
Greg raised an eyebrow in question, but kept his face blank.
“Because I want it,” she said in a strong voice, though she kept it low so no one else would hear her. “I want to take you in my mouth until my throat is sore. I want you to fuck me until I know I’ll feel you tomorrow and the day after, when you’re gone. I want all of that. I want you.”
Greg’s eyes flashed dangerously at her words. He unlaced their fingers and brought the hand up to the base of her throat, spreading his fingers over her clavicle. He pressed down briefly, watching her skin turn white around his fingers.
“Are you staying at this hotel?” he asked gruffly. She nodded. “Did you ask for the apparition allowance?”
“Yes.” Her voice held strong though she knew Greg could feel her pulse beating faster beneath his fingertips.
His wand seemed to appear out of nowhere but he handed it to her. “Then bring us up to your room, Pansy. Now.”
Pansy shut her eyes and reached up to grasp Greg’s wrist. It wasn’t always easy using another person’s wand, but she concentrated and heard the tell-tale crack of apparating. The air swirled around them and she soon felt the warmer air of a smaller room.
Her back slammed against the wall. Greg’s hand was still at her throat, but his left hand hand reached behind her head so she wouldn’t hit it as well. He leaned down and covered her mouth with his, stealing gasps from her. Pansy moaned into his mouth, the sound making Greg press his body harder against hers, until she had to pull away from the kiss in order to catch her breath.
“Is this what you want?” he asked, stroking his fingers up and down her neck.
“Yes,” she answered, a plea in her voice.
Greg pulled away from her then, and took a step back. Another step. Another. Her gaze dropped down when she heard the clink of his belt buckle.
“Eyes on my face.” His voice was harder, demanding. She looked at him. Stared. Met his challenge.
“I’ll fuck you until you can’t remember your name,” he promised in a low growl. “I’ll make you forget every man who ever fucked you. I’m the only one you’ll remember. After tonight, when you touch yourself and fuck yourself on your fingers, my name better be the only one you call out.”
“Sweet Circe,” slipped out of Pansy’s mouth.
He tsk ed at her. “Are you willing to play by my rules, Pansy?”
A shiver ran through her body. “What are the rules?”
Greg’s lips curved into a smile. “Good girl,” he said. “Always ask.”
She waited. The way he stood, feet apart and cock jutting out of his open trousers excited her, and the look on his face silently told her to be patient.
Good girl, he had said.
Yes. She wanted to be his good girl. And she knew what that entailed.
“You listen to what I say. Do what I tell you.” He moved forward again and reached out to caress her face, her neck, her breast. “But tell me if you want to slow down. Do all of that and I’ll make tonight good for you. For both of us.”
She licked her top lip, curled her tongue over the lipstick staining her mouth.
“Do you want that, Pansy?”
She could only say, “Yes.”
Greg paused and searched her eyes for something - what, she wasn’t sure - but then he blinked and she saw the way his face hardened.
“Then get on your knees.”
Her dress was tight but the slit allowed her to drop gracefully to the floor. She spread her legs for balance and kept her back straight. Pansy held her head still while she looked up at Greg. His dick nudged at her lips and she let him push into her mouth, a slow and steady pressure, in and out in shallow thrusts. His hand went to her cheek, his thumb pushed at the corner of her mouth until she opened wider, hollowed out her cheeks.
“That’s right,” Greg said, low and hoarse. “You want more?”
Pansy gave him a slow blink of her eyes in response and Greg moved both of his hands to her head, pressing his fingers behind her ears. His hips moved forward and Pansy shut her eyes, concentrating on breathing through her nose.
“Look at me.”
Her eyes shot open to see Greg’s eye flash in approval.
“You’re such a good girl, aren’t you?” He slid deeper into her mouth, felt her throat close up when she gagged. “Fuck, that’s right. That’s perfect. Your mouth is so bloody perfect, you know that?” He stared down at Pansy, reveled in the way her face was pressed up against his body, watched as her eyes watered. “Is your pussy just as good?”
She pulled away with a gasp, gulping down pockets of air, as she stared at the cock in front of her, glistening from her mouth and tongue. Her hands gripped the backs of Greg’s thighs as she leaned back. She wanted to yank down his pants. She wanted him to throw her on the bed, spread her legs, and fuck her until she couldn’t think about what she wanted anymore.
“I didn’t tell you to stop.”
Her eyes moved up - up to the muscles lined over his abdomen, up to the swirls of black and red and blue and green decorating his chest, up to the hardened gaze of his eyes.
“Did I tell you to stop?”
“N-no.” She cursed silently at the stammer in her voice.
“No, what?”
Pansy remained silent for a beat of a second. Then her lips curled up into a smile. Her heart was beating a mile a minute, it seemed, but the letters in her brain slipped and slid against each other until they formed an idea.
“No, Greg ,” she lengthened the vowel of his name, biting at the final letter. His face darkened at her defiance and Pansy gave him a smirk. “You didn’t.”
His hand shifted and his fingers tightened in her hair. He pulled upward, forcing her to stand. Even in her heels, she barely came to his shoulder and he imagined how easy it would be to throw her against the wall, on the bed. He shook his head slightly before yanking her head backwards, stretching out her neck. Pansy let out a gasp at the sting on her scalp.
“Maybe you’re not such a good girl, after all.” He brought up his left hand to press against her neck. “Here I was, thinking you wanted this.” He walked her backwards until Pansy felt the edge of the bed at the backs of her knees. “Wanted me ,” Greg growled out. Pansy’s hands lifted to grasp the corded muscles of his arms. “But maybe I was wrong. Maybe you don’t deserve this .” He thrust against her body sharply.
When he took a step back, Pansy’s stomach dropped. He wouldn’t really -
“Or do you?” He released her hair but tightened the hand around her throat. He reached down and began stroking himself, letting out a grunt every time his knuckles brushed against her dress.
“Stop,” Pansy whispered.
He ignored her, instead pushed her away and down, and Pansy tumbled onto the bed. She scrambled to right herself, vaguely heard a tear when the heel of a shoe caught at the hem of her dress, but she didn’t care. Greg backed away another step, still fisting his cock, still glaring at her in a challenge.
“Greg,” she said his name in a plea. “I want-”
“I know what you want ,” he interrupted her. “That wasn’t the question.”
Her mind was racing. Her heart was practically pounding out of her chest. Her pussy was so fucking wet, she was sure her dress was completely ruined.
“What do you think you deserve?” he asked.
Her hands clenched into fists around the white sheets beneath her. She stared at him, at the way he was hanging out of his pants, shirt hanging open around him, while he jerked himself off. His words swam around her mind and she knew what to do, knew what he wanted to see.
Slowly, almost calculatingly slow, Pansy slid off the bed until she was once again on her knees. She didn’t let go of the sheets and she felt a burn settle into her shoulders and arms as they locked into an awkward position behind her. Her tongue ran over her top lip for a moment before she let her jaw drop, tongue pressed down as much as possible.
She waited.
Greg bared his teeth at her, a feral smile that made her throat tighten up in anticipation. She didn’t move as he walked toward her again. Reaching out, he locked a hand around her chin, nudging her head back.
“Wider.”
She loosened her jaw, felt the pull in front of her ears. Greg leaned down, his face hovering over her, and then Pansy felt the large drop of saliva fall to the corner of her mouth. Before she could process anything about it, his dick was in her mouth, thrusting down until she could feel him at the back of her throat. She couldn’t help but gag, her reflexes unprepared, and she felt Greg begin to pull out.
Fuck no.
She followed his movement, keeping her mouth around him, suctioning her lips to pull at heated flesh.
There was a pause.
A grunt.
Greg shifted above her, leaning forward until he could put his hands on top of the bed, on top of her own hands. He slid his fingers between hers, squeezed tight once, twice, and then snapped his hips forward so sharply that Pansy’s head rocked backwards. She counted to three in her head and breathed deeply through her nose, moaning when his scent surrounded her.
He was going to choke her.
He was going to break her jaw.
He was going to steal her voice with how deep he was thrusting.
“ Merlin ,” he gasped. “That’s fucking perfect. You’re fucking perfect.”
Warmth flushed through her cheeks, down her neck, at his words. Greg looked down and watched as he moved in and out of her mouth at a steady pace. When he pulled away, letting the tip of his cock rest on her bottom lip, he caught sight of her breasts, heaving with deep breaths, still caught under red fabric.
He righted himself, his hands drifting up the length of her arms. He massaged her shoulders lightly. “Sit up.”
She silently did as she was told, leaning against the bed as she dragged her body up to sit. The pressure on her shoulders, her arms, lightened. Her body shivered when his fingers walked to the top of her dress, practically dancing across her breasts. He curled his fingers around the neckline and tugged down. Pansy gasped as the dress pushed and pulled with his movements. She heard the pop of the zipper at her back when Greg yanked hard and the dress came loose around her chest. He pushed the fabric down until her breasts bounced slightly from being let free from the tight dress.
“Hold them.”
Once her hands were spread over them, nipples peeking out between her fingers, Greg dipped down and stood back up, sliding his cock between her breasts. Pansy looked up at him as she squeezed them together, fitting her curves around him. He was still slick from her mouth and he grunted as she stroked him between her breasts. She locked her fingers together, pressed tight, and dipped her head to swipe a tongue over the tip of him as he thrust up.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Greg reach toward his hand, dropped to the floor when they had first arrived. The slim piece of wood jumped into his hand, and a part of Pansy thrummed at the seemingly innocent show of power.
Between low groans, he murmured diffindo and Pansy froze. The spell hit her dress and slashed a line down its side. Cool air rushed over her body and her legs parted instinctively when the fabric pooled around her feet.
Again, he moved away from her a bit, letting out a curse as he slid himself out of the tight press of her breasts. He lifted his chin toward the bed and ran his left hand over his cock when she laid back at the silent command.
He took a step forward.
Another.
One more.
She heard the rustle of fabric, realized he had kicked her mangled dress away from his path to her.
Oddly enough, Pansy wondered how badly Draco would kill her for the ruined dress.
All thoughts of anyone other than Greg flew out of her mind, though, when she felt the tip of his cock nudge at her opening. He dipped in but only just. His thumb found her clit and he rubbed against her.
His right hand still held his wand.
“Do you trust me?” His voice was softer as he asked her the question. She furrowed her brows at him and nodded her head but he shook his head in response. “I need to hear you say it, Pansy. Do you trust me?”
“Yes,” she said without hesitation. “I trust you.”
“Aedes Ignifera.”
Pansy’s body jerked beneath him as her eyes shut in fear. She let out a questioning cry as her eyes caught the stream of fire flowing from Greg’s wand. Ignifera . Her breathing quickened. She trusted him, yes, but the word brought back the memory of being told how Crabbe had died during the Battle. Fiendfyre had no business in her hotel room, during sex, during -
Aedes , the word echoed in her mind. Her eyes flew open to find Greg watching her with a calm look on his face. The fire held steady, forming a circle that hovered above her, just off to her left. Do you trust me, had been his question. She took a deep breath, letting it out in a shuddering gasp, and forced herself to calm down. To her surprise, she realized she had moved slightly away from him, had moved up the bed a bit, but with each calming breath, she relaxed and let her body sink back down until she could feel his bare heat against her again.
“That’s right,” Greg practically crooned down at her and Pansy couldn’t help but arch her back up, like she was presenting herself as a gift. He brought his hand up her stomach to the dip between her breasts and splayed a hand there. He stroked the skin to calm her even more. “Just like that, Pansy. You’re doing so well.”
Fuck but his words were echoing in her ears, over and over, and all she wanted to do was preen like a stupid peacock. She turned her head to the side and watched as Greg flicked his wand toward her stomach. She didn’t know what to expect but she trusted him.
Explicitly.
A phoenix formed from the circle of flames and dove toward her stomach. She followed its path, bracing herself, but all she felt was a skimming of heat against her skin - over and over, as the phoenix flew back and forth. With every swoop of the bird, the fire burned hotter until she was gasping for breath.
“Mutesco sileo.”
Pansy felt the flames dissipate over her body, like candle wax melting over her. The remnants - tiny pieces of ash - hardened on her skin and she paused, swiping her hands over the pieces. Pansy marveled at what had just happened, what she had just experienced. Her eyes met Greg’s.
“Do it again,” she requested quietly. “Please.”
Greg’s lips moved but no sound came out as he flicked his wand again - so much fucking power and control, Pansy’s mind screamed - and a red-orange snake of fire burst from the tip of his wand. It slid through the air, sparking embers that caressed her body until it settled at the curve of her breast, winding around tighter and tighter until it burned against a nipple. When it slid downwards, Greg leaned forward and swiped his tongue over where the snake had just left, tugging with his teeth until Pansy let out a cry and arched up. A hand shot up to hold Greg in place as she writhed against the fire skimming down her stomach.
A keening moan left her lips at the feel of heat - heat that bordered on too much - wrapping around her thighs, back over her hips. Another flick of Greg’s wand sent a miniature thunderbird to her ankles where it flew around her legs, leaving ribbons of fire on her skin. Pansy no longer knew what to focus on - Greg’s teeth were leaving marks on her chest, his cock still teased at her opening, the snake was sliding back and forth on her lower stomach, dipping further south until flames bloomed between her legs.
Her breath came out in shuddered measures now. The heat from the flames was sinking into her skin until she thought she was on fire herself. Her head was thrown back, lips parted in silent screams, and Pansy wondered if she would ever be able to cool down again. She felt the muscles in her legs tense, felt the pull in her abdomen that would send her senses into overdrive.
She was burning.
Greg’s name spilled from her lips.
Tight. Every muscle in her body tightened.
Please, please, yes.
“Mutesco sileo.”
The fires melted into her skin at Greg’s command.
“No, no, please, so close, I’m so close,” Pansy sobbed.
And then Greg pushed into her, a hard thrust that made Pansy cry out his name over and over. Greg threw his wand down on the bed, and grabbed Pansy’s hips, lifted her up, held her while he drove into her, deeper, harder. His body slammed against her inner thighs until they shook violently. Pansy’s hand flew out to her sides and she gripped the sheets, her knuckles turning white with the strength of her hold.
She was drowning. She felt like she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t gasp in enough air, as waves crashed over her and threatened to keep her under. She felt Greg lift one of her legs to his shoulder and felt him bring a knee to rest on the bed, right below her ass, and seven fires of Hell, he was deep, so deep and she wondered how long she would be able to feel him inside of her.
“Look at you,” Greg grunted. “Taking me in like this. Should see yourself.”
He shifted, brought his other knee up on the bed, and let go of her hips. He reached out and grabbed her wrists, sliding them upwards until he held them over her head. Pansy drew her other leg up and out, spreading herself for him. Greg leaned down, his teeth marking her neck, moving up from collarbone to just below her ear.
“You know just what I want, don’t you?” His voice was a hot whisper in her ear. He slowed his strokes, pulling out only to push back unhurriedly.
Pansy whimpered.
“Do you like it? Like feeling my cock?” He pressed in until their bodies were flush against each other - and then pushed some more. “Because you’re fucking perfect. You look so pretty laying there like this.” He circled his hips and Pansy bit her lip at the sharp pleasure-pain that raced up her spine.
“Greg,” she choked out his name, her voice cracking as he drew his hips back again, pausing until Pansy let out a whine. She undulated beneath the heavy form of his body, moaned at the slickness of their skin together. “Please.”
“Please what?” he growled into her ear. “Please fuck you? I am.” He snapped his hips sharply, drawing a cry from her lips.
“Please let you come? You already have.” He changed his pace, his thrusts growing steadily harder, the slap of their skin echoing in the room.
“But you want more, don’t you?” He bit the lobe of her ear, tightened his grip on her fingers, and drove deeper into her.
“You’re my greedy little slut, aren’t you?”
Pansy never thought she’d like that word. Ron had said it earlier and it had sent a rush of anger through her, but Greg’s voice saying it, practically crooning it into her ear, had waves of pleasure blanketing her as much as Greg’s body. Her hips moved upwards, straining to take more of him.
“Oh, you like that, don’t you?”
Greg let go of her fingers, ran his hands down her arms until they palmed the sides of her chest. He pressed down on her skin, finding shades of pinks and yellows where his fingers had already started to create imprints.
She bruised easily.
He’d take care of that. Later.
For now, he spread her thighs further apart and pulled away, let her legs drop from their positions on him, and flipped Pansy over, pushing down at the space between her shoulder blades until her forehead pressed against the bed.
“Fuck, you really should see yourself,” he said, tracing the path of her spine. His palm connected with her ass, making Pansy claw at the sheets, as the sharp sound of the slap rang in her ears.
“One day,” Greg promised, sliding a thumb between her cheeks, “I’m taking this.” Pansy arched her back, pushing back into his hand. “I’ll fuck you right here until you’re screaming for it.”
She let out a sound of desperation, shifting her hips to push down onto the bed, but Greg stopped her before she could rub herself along the crisp sheets. “Not yet.”
“Please.”
“Not. Yet.” He punctuated each word with a smack across her ass before he smoothed his palms over the reddening skin.
He pulled at her hips, tilting them upwards, caging her legs between his. Greg let out a curse when he pushed back inside of Pansy, a slow stroke until his groin was against her ass. He leaned forward to grab her arms and brought them to the small of her back, crossing her wrists so he could hold them in one hand. He yanked hard and Pansy felt her upper body lift for a moment before she was face down again on the bed, screaming into the sheets.
Fuck.
He thrust into her with abandon, and Pansy wondered if she would ever have sex like this again.
“Let me hear you.”
She didn’t know what to say. Her brain was scrambled, her mind only focused on the sweat-soaked sheets beneath her cheek, the slap of his skin against hers, the way she could feel every shift of his muscles at the backs of her thighs. She felt his hand reach below her, find her clit, and she gasped harshly at the touch, the hard pinch.
“Not a word,” he said, a touch of awe hidden in the dark tone. “Not a word from you, but you’re telling me everything.”
She tried to respond, tried to let something come out, but it felt impossible. It was impossible. His voice was low with every move he made, the combination sending her into a spiral.
A quick slap on her clit. “It’s like you were fucking made for me, for my cock.”
Her thighs felt so slick, so wet. “Can you take a little more for me, Pansy? Just a bit more?”
Yes, yes, yes, she screamed in her mind but she was sure only nonsensical sounds came out of her mouth. He tightened his hands - one on her wrists, one at her clit - and thrust deeper, so much deeper and Pansy’s mouth froze in an open circle, a silent yell that made her entire body seize up.
“That’s right,” Greg grunted. “You’re mine now, aren’t you?”
She felt boneless. She wanted to sag against the bed, but the tremors racing through her made her shiver in need. It felt like pure magic was sparking over her skin, a crackling fire that wouldn’t stop being fueled.
Behind her, Greg shifted, moved the hand holding her wrists to her chest where he lifted her until she was up on her knees. He nosed her hair out of the way, used a hand to turn her face to the side, so he could find her lips.
“One more,” he breathed into her mouth. She shook her head. There was no way. Absolutely no way she had anything left in her. “Just one more.”
She finally found her voice. “Greg... I don’t -”
“You can,” he said. His thrusts had slowed to a leisurely glide, his body dipping and thrusting while he stroked her clit. The feather-light brushes made her twitch and she could no longer find the space that usually existed between pleasure and pain.
“Is too much,” she managed to mumble but her voice sounded lethargic to her own ears.
“Shh,” he shushed her and in the back of her mind, Pansy wondered when Greg had gone from fucking her like a madman to giving her soft, sensual touches. His voice - the tone, the way it curled around her - made a new heat form in her stomach. “You can do this, Pansy. Give me one more like a good girl.” His fingers did a tap, tap, tap against her pussy.
She felt unsteady but she could feel the hot coils of his touch sending secret messages over her skin, as if he could coax another orgasm out of her. Pansy leaned her body back fully against his chest and managed to disentangle her arms from between them. She brought her left hand up and around his neck, holding his head against her, while her right hand joined his where his cock was sliding into her.
“One more,” she whispered right before she surged up to kiss him, her mouth opening against his, needy and wanting. When she pulled away, she stared into his eyes for a moment, felt the heat of his gaze practically reading her mind. She pulled away slowly and leaned back down on shaky elbows. She felt Greg pause his movements behind her. “Fuck me,” she said in a near-whisper.
The touch on her back was light, soft, almost comforting. The mattress shifted beneath her as Greg slid out of her, moved away, stood up. She glanced over her shoulder to see him steady himself and mutter something beneath his breath.
Pansy let out an oof when he yanked her body to the edge of the bed. Her feet fell to the floor, her stomach dropped to lay flat against the bed, and then he was inside her again, filling her until she thought her bones would crack, her body would tear apart.
It was too much.
It wasn’t enough.
Pansy thought she didn’t have anything left to give, but she could feel her body answering Greg’s vicious call. She could feel him tensing with each thrust and she knew he was close so close and she wanted it.
“I want you to come,” she said, her voice breathless and hoarse. She felt him move faster, harder. “Please please please.”
“Fuck,” he grunted. She tightened her muscles around him and he cursed, calling her a fucking filthy tease .
Pansy pushed back against him, ignoring her screaming muscles because she wanted it, needed it in a way she never realized.
“Inside me,” she let out in a rush.
Greg’s thrusting stuttered for a moment - so quick, Pansy wondered if she imagined it. He didn’t say anything, but brought a hand back up her spine and wrapped it around the back of her neck. His fingers squeezed in a silent question. Pansy repeated herself, louder this time and slower, so there was no question as to what she wanted.
Like he was waiting for the words, Greg lost the rhythm of his thrusts, pistoning in and out of her body frantically until he let out a low groan as he came, his cock emptying inside of her. His sounds, the fullness inside her pussy, and the pressure on her neck was too much and Pansy felt her body warm, felt her legs shake as they stretched from the bed to the floor.
When he pulled out, Pansy felt the drip drip down thighs and reached down to slide a finger through the wetness. Hands rolled her over as Greg made a strangled sound before he was kissing her, stretching his body over hers. Pansy moaned, letting him breathe in the sound, and she brought her hands to his waist, steadying him above her.
“Perfect,” he mumbled as he moved his lips down her neck before standing up. “You’re so fucking perfect.”
Pansy stared up at the ceiling, a smile curling on her lips. She brought her hand up to her mouth, placed her finger on her bottom lip, and licked its tip, smiling wider when she heard Greg groan as he watched her taste the both of them.
“Wicked.” Greg reached down and tugged at her waist until Pansy sat up. “You’re wicked.”
“I’m dirty ,” Pansy said, looking down at herself. Greg chuckled above her and she rolled her eyes. “I’m ignoring that.”
She stood and went to move past Greg, but he stopped her, tilted her face up, and dipped his head to press his lips to hers. His fingers stroked her neck - up down up down - and Pansy wanted to melt into his chest. Instead she tapped her nails against the muscled chest and pulled away.
“I’m not kidding. I can’t take any more. Right now.” She ducked under his arm, letting her hand linger over his chest, across his ribs. “Give me a moment.”
Greg watched Pansy disappear into the bathroom and turned to his right, his left, and back again, before he leaned over the bed to reach his discarded wand. He muttered a spell and shuddered at the vibrations that went through his body with the quick cleansing spell. Walking around the room, his eyes caught a few items - a fluffy hotel robe draped over an ottoman, a collection of small potion bottles atop a dresser, jewelry scattered next to them. He picked up one of the bottles, swirling the liquid inside with a twist of his wrist.
“You know,” Pansy began as she appeared in the doorway. “I’m not entirely sure how comfortable I feel sleeping around with an Inquiry.”
Greg turned his head and let his gaze travel down Pansy’s naked body. “Skeletons in the closet?”
Pansy’s laugh was high-pitched, borderline shrill, as she walked toward him, taking the bottle back from him and putting it in its proper space once more. “ The Prophet let those free without a second thought. I’m not sure there’s many more secrets to my life.”
When she reached down to open one of the drawers, Greg stopped her with his fingers wrapping around her wrist. She turned her face up and swallowed at the dark look in his eyes. “We all have secrets.”
Again, Pansy swallowed with a shuddering breath. “Are you staying?”
Greg watched as she slid her wrist from his grip and reached into the drawer to take out a pair of knickers. She leaned down to step into them and drew them up her legs.
“Do you want me to?”
Pansy reached up and slid her hands over his chest. “Yes.”
They settled into the bed after Pansy flicked the top sheets off. Another muttered spell cleaned the bed for them. They both laid on their back for a while, staring up at the ceiling. It could have been awkward, but it wasn’t. It was oddly relaxing and comfortable.
“Greg?”
“Hmm?”
“That spell you did.” Pansy hesitated. “It was… Was that Fiendyre?”
Silence. Pansy turned her head to see Greg’s eyes closed. She could sense him struggling.
“You don’t -”
“Yes,” he answered. “It’s a form of it.”
“I’ve never heard it before.”
Another pause, and then, “I created it.” He opened his eyes and shifted, meeting Pansy’s inquisitive stare. “After… After Vince… At Hogwarts…”
“Right,” Pansy interjected quietly. She remembered. They all remembered.
Greg cleared his throat. “I didn’t want to be some knock-off Inquiry when I went abroad. I wanted to do it as in the books as possible. Lots of training but also more free time than I knew what to do with. It was hard those first few years. On my own. And almost every time I had free time, I remembered that day with Draco and Vince. That fire. That fucking Fiendfyre. I wanted to defeat it. Own it. Make it answer to me. ”
Turning on her side, Pansy leaned her head on a closed fist and reached out to trace the flames running up the side of his body. She could make out the shapes of an eagle owl and snake in vivid reds and yellows and oranges.
“It took months, almost a year, until I managed to alter the incantation enough for it to work.”
Pansy found the tiny Roman numerals hidden in the open mouth of a lion. II.V.MCMXCVIII. She pressed the skin around the letters.
The second of May. Nineteen-ninety-eight.
Without a word, Pans lifted up and pressed her face into Greg’s neck, leaving kisses and bite marks until Greg moved a large hand to her hip, pulling her into his side. He dragged his hand down over her thigh and hitched her leg up to rest against him.
“Go to sleep, Pansy.” It was a friendly command and when she didn’t stop tasting the skin of his jaw, he tap tap tapped on the back of her leg. “Be good and I’ll give you a nice wake-up call.”
He felt her lips curve into a smile. “What kind of wake-up call?”
“Go to sleep and you’ll find out.”
With a light laugh, Pansy shifted to a more comfortable position. She trailed her nails up and down his chest, memorizing his breathing pattern in case she’d never have another night with him. It took a bit of time, but she soon found herself drifting off, leaving puffs of air over Greg’s shoulder.
The last thing she remembered was feeling Greg’s hand squeeze her lightly and his lips leaving a kiss at the top of her head.
Hours later, the first thing Pansy woke up to was the soft brush of hair against her inner thighs right before a tongue licked up her cunt. She let out a soft gasp as she raised her knees, keeping her feet flat against the bed. She could practically feel Greg’s smile against her at the movement and she couldn’t help but poke at his shoulder with her foot.
“Morning, Pansy,” he managed to say before he buried his face between her legs. Pansy would have bet all of her galleons that he was spelling out what he had just said with his tongue. Greg’s hand wrapped around her thigh, palm smoothing down the plane of her stomach until he dipped his thumb into rising heat to find her clit. Greg lifted his head when he heard a whimper. “Let me hear you.”
Before Pansy could say anything, the door to her hotel room slammed open. She shrieked and fumbled for something to cover her and a white button-down flew into her face. By the time she was able to untangle it from her head and somewhat wrap it around her bare chest, Greg was kneeling on the bed, his face no longer where she wanted it.
“This cannot be happening.”
“Draco?” Pansy said her best friend’s name in confusion. She slowly slid her arms into the shirt, immediately smelling Greg’s cologne from the night before. “What are you doing in here?”
“I knew you couldn’t be trusted,” Draco said in a low tone, shaking his head from side-to-side.
“What are you going on about?” Pansy demanded.
He couldn’t be talking about Greg, could he? But when she looked at Greg, he had a smirk on his face as he looked at Draco. She turned her head and tilted it in confusion before pulling her lips into her mouth to try to stop herself from laughing.
Draco stood in her room, staring down at the pile of red fabric on the floor. Next to it, a small tray and biscuits were spilled. As if in slow motion, Draco nudged his foot into the fabric and let out a long breath when he saw the rips.
“All of my hard work finding this perfect dress for you. And now it’s ruined.” He turned accusing eyes to her, not caring that she was half-naked. “Why do you do this to me?”
Pansy let out a peal of laughter - one Draco hadn’t heard in a long time, if he was being honest. She closed the shirt over her chest with two buttons and leered at Draco playfully.
“Well,” she said. “It did its job, didn’t it?”