The Thrill

She wondered sometimes if all she felt was because of the thrill.
It sent her heart racing.
She could feel her pulse thumping throughout her entire body.
Every day, there was a chance of getting caught.
She wondered if that was why she loved him.

She loved the feel of him; she shivered at the caress of his fingers across her cheek.
She wondered if he did these things to her. She wondered if he thought of her when he was with her.

With Pansy Parkinson sitting in his lap, Draco ruled over the Slytherin table as a rather pale boy with much power. It was his confidence that kept him in power; his attitude that screamed that he would throw you to lions to save himself.

Parkinson clung to Draco every chance she got, though the girl had no doubt that Parkinson would sink her claws into any rich boy that she could reach. Parkinson was a fool, much to the amusement of Aimee Valentine.
For you see, while Parkinson held onto Draco so very tightly, Draco’s hand was tracing circles on Aimee’s knee.

First, they started off in broom closets, late at night, where there was little chance of any one seeing them.

Then, as the danger and excitement further sparked the flame between them, they moved on to less clandestine places.

They ravished one another in the common room: early in the morning, late at night when it was possible that someone may walk in on them at any moment.

They met among the stacks at the library, at first toward the back with the more dusty shelves and then toward the front of the library where they were sure that someone would see them.

It was the thrill that drove them. While Pansy played annoyingly with his hair, Draco’s arm was securely around Aimee’s waist.

Pansy was too stupid to be truly suspicious.

One of the most recent times they’d evaded discovery was a week ago as they ravished each other in the Sixth Year girls’ dormitory.

They had been “studying.” Shortly after arriving in the empty room, he had thrown his books on her bed and had grasped the back of her neck firmly as he pulled her to him. He threaded his fingers through her red hair and tried to pull her closer still.

He ran his tongue along her closed lips but she wouldn’t let him in. Smiling, she pulled slowly away from him and swayed her hips temptingly as she walked passed him toward the books on her bed.

“We should study.” she said lowly as she allowed her fingers to trail along the hem of her skirt.

Growling, he pulled her back by her waist and pushed her back across the wall. The cold dungeon stone against her back made her heart thump faster.

With fiery eyes, he brought a pale, aristocratic hand slowly down her cheek.
He lavished her neck with kisses, marking her as his; his hot breath serving to send shivers down her spine.

And then his voice was in her ear. “You don’t care, do you? About Parkinson, about—”
“Stupid boy. Why would I care about her?” she whispered with a vicious smile on her face.

Draco smirked in return and went back to his onslaught on her lips. The sound of the doorknob turning made them move hurriedly toward the bed. Draco attempted to slide across the bed but ended up sliding off the edge of the bed and hit the floor with a thump.

“Valentine.”
Aimee rolled her eyes as Pansy attempted to act tough. “Parkinson.” she smiled coldly.
Parkinson walked to her bed and grabbed her bag. With one final glare in Aimee’s direction, Pansy left.

As soon as the door shut behind her, Aimee started laughing.
“Smooth.” she said as Malfoy climbed back onto the bed.
Growling again, Malfoy swept all of her books off the bed before he straddled her waist. He placed his forearms on either side of her head and leaned over her.

“What are you waiting for?” she questioned as she bit her lip temptingly.
With that Draco kissed her.

x x x x x x x

After a while into their affair, Aimee became disgusted with herself. She was the one being hidden away. She was the one who had to go out of her way to see him. Granted, she enjoyed sneaking around under Pansy’s pug nose; however Aimee knew she was good enough for Draco Malfoy. Pansy was most definitely not.

Draco would be hers and hers alone. It was just a matter of him leaving Pansy. She enacted her plan as soon as she could. No one was going to get in her way.

x x x x x x x

The next time Aimee found herself alone with Draco, she spent the time dodging his kisses. She let him kiss her neck and her cheek, but not her lips.

“Valentine.” he growled roughly into her ear as he held a bunch of her hair tightly in his hand.

“Malfoy.” she replied lowly, the syllables rolling off her tongue.

“What are you doing?”

“Me?” she asked innocently. “Nothing.”

“I can see that.” he muttered gruffly.

“Honestly, Draco,” she sighed as she pulled out of his grasp. “Who knows where the hell Pansy’s been. This is a matter of self-preservation. I do not want to catch one of her diseases.” Draco leaned against the wall with his arms crossed in front of his chest, watching as she wiped the invisible dirt from her skirt.

“And besides,” she said looking at Draco through her long lashes, “I’ve got plans. I better get going. Don’t want to be late.”

She turned on her heel but he grabbed her wrist.
“Plans with who?” he asked; she smiled at the annoyance she could hear laced in his tone.

She turned to him with a smirk on her face. “A friend.”
With that, she shook off his grip and walked away, knowing he was watching her leave.

The next morning found her sitting on Blaise Zambini’s lap. She giggled shamefully while kissing the corner of his lips every now and then. Blaise’s hand rested low on her back, moving in circles that sent shivers up her spine. Not once during breakfast did her eyes stray down the table to where Draco sat.

Returning from dinner three nights later, Aimee was pulled into an empty classroom by familiar hands.

He closed the door behind her and crossed his arms.

“Something you wanted?” she asked innocently

He turned away from her and moved to leaned back against the professor’s desk. She took the opportunity to unbutton the top few buttons of her shirt and to sit on top of a desk. She crossed her legs and began swinging them lightly, knowing her skirt hem moved with every motion.

When he looked at her, his eyes trailed down from her green eyes to the view he had down her top to her moving hem line. She smiled victoriously.

“Draco?”

His eyes snapped to hers in question.

“Something you wanted?”

“Haven’t seen you in three days.”
His voice was low and gravelly as it hit her ears.

“Been busy.” she replied as he moved to stand in between her legs.

“Noticed.” he muttered as he put his hands on her waist and placed kisses down her jaw before moving down her neck.

Suddenly the seven o’clock bell rang and Aimee freed herself from Draco’s grasp.

“Got to go, Draco.” she said with a shrug of her shoulders. “I told Blaise I’d meet him—”

“Screw Blaise! Blow off your plans.” he said as he wrapped his hands around her waist and tried to kiss her.

“I told him—”

“I don’t care.” he snapped. “You’re with me tonight.”

“Says who?” she asked with an eyebrow raised. No one told her what to do.

“Me. You’re m—”
“I’m not your girlfriend, Malfoy. If you want to control someone, go find Pansy. I’m sure she’ll fall to her knees for you.”

“Pansy is…” Draco trailed off.

“She’s what Draco?”

“She’s not you.” he said, cutting through her with his pale eyes.

“Could’ve told you that.” she said with a smirk.

“She’s the opposite of you actually. Don’t know why I picked her.” he muttered.

“Because she’s easy?” Valentine volunteered.

Draco shot her an amused look. “She’s going to whine and bother me forever if I—”

Tired of his excuses, she rolled her eyes. “Look, Draco. You have two choices. You stay with her or you don’t. For now, I’m already late to meet Blaise. I’ll see you around.”

With that, she hopped off the desk and sashayed out of the room. Hopefully this final ploy would the last nail in the coffin of Draco and Pansy’s relationship.

The next morning, Draco took Blaise’s seat next to her.
Without saying anything, he turned to and snogged her right at the table all the while his fingers drew designs on her bare legs.

When he pulled away, she smirked at him and moved herself onto his lap where she firmly held his hands, knowing that there wouldn’t be a second girl in his life.

Judging by the way her heart was racing, Aimee Valentine was right. It was the thrill that had attracted her to him. It was the thrill that encompassed his entire style of living. The thrill of Draco Malfoy.