Disclaimer: Still not mine.

Warning: Lemonade! and maybe a teeny, tiny bit of questionable consent. Just throwing it out there for those sensitive to it.

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"But what?" she snapped, "What else could you possibly want from me?"

He smirked again. She was prettiest when in the midst of an oncoming snit.

"I want …"

"Yes?" she questioned impatiently.

"You …"

"Me what?" she huffed.

"You," he intoned meaningfully.

xxxxxxx

His implications became suddenly and offensively clear. "I'm not fucking you for it, Theodore," she said, her face crumpling in distaste. Yes, she wanted it back, but not bad enough to whore for it!

"I'd be willing to take less, but more of it," he offered suggestively.

"Meaning?" she questioned, her temper barely restrained.

"For starters, I'd like to kiss you," he replied, his voice lilting enticingly.

Her interest warred with her incredulity. "For starters?"

"I promise, you will leave this tower with the book and your virtue as in tact as it is now, if you wish it. You only agree to let me kiss you." His eyes gleamed with earnestness.

Just a little kissing? she thought. It was a tempting offer, but still insulting, and what if they were caught?! "It's late …" she began, glancing toward the door.

"It's perfect," he replied, turning his back to her to ward the door. "The patrols finished hours ago. No one's going to catch us."

She eyed the closed door with concern, but not fear. She knew there would be a price to get the book back, but she hadn't expected this.

"Come on Granger … Hermione," he temped, "just let me kiss you."

"Just kissing?" she asked skeptically.

"With tongue," he corrected, "and some touching." He could sense that she was about to balk and added, "If you don't like the way I touch you, you can ask me to stop, but I get to kiss you for as long as I want."

If she were willing to admit it to herself, she was really quite turned on by all the bantering with this good looking and mysterious Slytherin, and ready for a good snog. Though her sense of decency recoiled at the very idea of agreeing, she used the book to excuse it to herself, imagining rushing to replace it first thing in the morning. She slowly nodded her head 'yes,' making sure he understood this was a sacrifice she submitted to a bit unwillingly, all the while trying to ignore the rapid beat of her heart and tingling flush of arousal between her legs.

He smiled victoriously and held up his wand. She wavered for a moment, and then reluctantly tapped her own against it. The magic binding their agreement swirled around them and she sucked in an anxious and excited breath.

His eyes glittered with triumph and lust. She tilted her face up toward his, preparing for his kiss, her heart pounding almost painfully. But, instead of brushing his warm, soft looking lips against hers, he slowly dropped to his knees before her. She looked down at him in question and he gently began to raise her skirt.

"Stop it!" she hissed, knocking his hands away. "I didn't agreed to that!"

"Yes, you agreed to let me kiss you," he smiled roguishly, "you never asked where."

The cunning, manipulative bastard. He had actually negotiated to kiss her there.

With tongue.

"Absolutely not!" she spat.

"You agreed, Hermione," he warned, "We took an oath. I won't release you from it."

"Keep the book, you disgusting pervert," she railed, and shoved him out of her path on the way to the door.

He chuckled softly as she tugged on the door to no avail. "Drop your wards, Theodore," she warned.

"My wards are set to prevent anyone from coming in, Hermione," he smirked, "It's your own magic that's preventing you from leaving. You took an oath, Pet."

"Release me!" she commanded, her fiery gaze burning into his.

"I don't think so," he replied coolly, though his blood was boiling with desire. She would give in, because he knew she wanted to. "A deal is a deal, and I want to taste you. Come now, I dare say you'll enjoy it," he continued as he moved to kneel before her again.

She whimpered, partly in protest, and partly in excitement and desire. After all, the thought of his mouth in that place was incredibly erotic, but it rankled her pride. He tricked her! And she wasn't that kind of girl. The kind of girl that allowed a boy to raise her skirt and kiss the tops of her thighs the way Theodore was doing oh so skillfully at this very moment.

She stiffened and tried to ignore what he was doing. He would give up soon enough, wouldn't he? And the oath would be satisfied, she'd have her book and never speak to or look at him again.

But he was hard to ignore.

His lips were soft and warm and wet as he moved them slowly and gently from her the tops of her thighs to the place where her curls began, and she struggled not to squirm and tilt her hips toward him. Soon his hands were at her waist, warm and smooth, and stroking in gentle circles. Her breath caught when he moved his mouth over her cotton clad mound and breathed hot and heavy over her clitoris while his lips just skimmed the material.

The sexy seductive bastard.

By the time he had hooked his fingers into her knickers and pulled them down to expose her soft nether lips to his ministrations, she was so completely absorbed in the sensation that she didn't think to protest until he had already given her one swipe with his tongue, sending a delicious rush of tingles straight to her core. And then, of course, it was too late.

She looked down at the lump that was his head under her skirt and her fingers itched to pull up the fabric so she could see his mouth moving against her most intimate place. She held back, and the restraint only added to the build up of frustrating pleasure.

With lips and tongue and gentle brushes of teeth he stimulated her while his hands continued to roam her legs, reaching from her ankles to the small of her back, skimming ever so lightly over the sensitive flesh. She bucked her hips involuntarily and worried her knees might give out. She whimpered as the next reflexive jolt of her knees nearly caused her to collapse on top of him.

"Lay down," he whispered huskily, throwing his cloak down for her and charming it for added thickness and warmth.

She was soon trembling beneath his ministrations and he could tell she was close to orgasm. His own arousal was trapped rather painfully in his shorts. She groaned in frustration when he pulled away to adjust himself then quickly slammed her thighs closed when she saw him unfasten his trousers.

"It's okay," he assured her, "I just need to move it a bit."

He snaked his hand into his shorts and straightened himself in full view of her wide eyes. She couldn't get a look at him like this and he could tell she wanted to. With a smirk, he pulled his shorts down to reveal his erection and gave it a few strokes to emphasize his size and obvious arousal.

It wasn't the first one she'd seen, though it was definitely the most attractive, proud, and pale, and as eager as the rest of him. But sex with him was simply out of the question and she pressed her legs together even tighter at the very thought of submitting to such a degree. What she had done so far was quite humiliating enough. How was she ever going to face him again after this?

He could sense her inner conflict and took the hint. He laid back down, pressing his aroused flesh into the cool flagstone, and encouraged her to open for his lips and tongue once more. She complied hesitantly, but her mind was lost to the act. Instead of thinking of how wonderful his mouth felt, she wondered how vicious it would be when this was all over. Would all of Slytherin be laughing and making obscene gestures at her during breakfast?

Sensing that he was getting nowhere, he stopped and crawled up her body to lay beside her.

"Did I scare you?" he asked, leaning in to nuzzle and nibble her ear.

"No," she replied unconvincingly.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he added.

"Not tonight, anyway," she rejoined resignedly.

It took him a moment to catch her meaning. "I'm not a gossip, Hermione," he stated firmly, a waver of offence in his voice.

She turned her face to his and searched his stormy eyes for the truth.

"Do you think," he began honestly, "that you're the one they'd make fun of if they found out about this?"

She stiffened in indignity and turned her stricken face back to the ceiling.

"I don't mean it that way," he reassured her, "I mean that I had to trick you into letting me kiss you and lick you. That I wanted to do it that much."

He could feel her begin to relax and went in for the kill, "I'll never tell, though I'm not ashamed to want you. You're very sexy, you know? Especially when you're bossy and angry."

She let out a puff of laughter. "You must think I'm sexy all the time then."

"Pretty much," he agreed, leaning in to nibble her ear again and reaching an arm around to cup her cheek and tip her lips toward his.

Her kiss was hesitant at first, but as he gently caressed her cheek and slowly drew her lips between his, she became more responsive. She could taste herself upon his lips and wondered briefly if it was wrong to like it. But, there wasn't much time or opportunity for thinking. Theodore was slowing consuming all of her senses. His clever tongue darted into her mouth to meet with hers, just a touch, and then he pulled back and drew her lips into his. Quick, fluttering kisses, flicks of tongue, and then hands.

His hand moved down her cheek, grazed her neck and gently cupped her breast. She might have protested if he had not taken that moment to finally fully enter her mouth and stroke her tongue with his. Instead of a plea for him to stop, he won a moan of approval.

He stroked her breast and tongue in a delicious rhythm, finding her tight nipple and gently pinching it through the fabric of her school blouse and plain cotton bra. She whimpered into his mouth with each tug and he felt encouraged to take the next step.

She sighed in pleasant surprise when he moved his lips from her mouth, down her jaw and to her throat, laving beneath her ear to find her sensitive spot that would send thrills through her. As his lips traveled south, his progression was hindered by her blouse and she said nothing as he popped the buttons to continue his way down to where she wanted him most.

With her blouse wide open he crawled back up her, planting kisses unencumbered until he reached her bra. He flicked the material between her breasts with his wand and it parted evenly.

She gasped and began to protest as he planted a lingering kiss between the two creamy mounds. "What did you do that for?" she hissed, "I didn't say you could."

"You didn't say I couldn't," he returned. "I can fix it just as easy," he added as he smoothed his hands up her torso to cup her breasts. "You don't like the way I'm touching you?"

"I don't like how forward you're becoming," she huffed. "I only agreed to let you kiss me and now I'm practically naked!"

"I suppose that's not very fair," he replied roguishly, "I've still got all my clothes on."

He sat up on his knees and unbuttoned his shirt swiftly, revealing his smooth chest and tight abdomen. He was thin, but quite well toned and she couldn't help but admire what she saw. But before he could begin to shrug out of his shirt, she surprised him by getting back to her feet and tugging her shirt closed.

"No," she commanded. "No more. This has gone far enough."

"Our agreement was that I could kiss you for as long as I wanted," he reminded. "I'm not done yet."

"So you say. But our agreement was for kissing only," she replied, fixing her bra and refastening her blouse.

"Fine," he sighed resignedly. "Lay back down and spread your legs."

"No," she answered angrily.

"No?" he replied, raising his brow.

She crossed her arms over her chest and stood obstinately where she was, looking down at him, her chin tilted in defiance.

"Fine," he shrugged, "I'll come to you."

He knelt before her once more, slipped his hands under her skirt and grasped her waist.

"No touching," she warned.

He looked up at her and narrowed his eyes. So she was going to try to make this difficult, was she? Well, two could play that game.

He leaned in and swiped his tongue across her. He teased her for only a moment before attacking with skill and vigor. She was soon trembling and whimpering as quietly as possible. When her legs began to shake, he increased his pace and pressure until she was about to shatter. She grabbed his head to steady herself and he yanked himself away.

Her head was spinning with the pleasure of intense arousal and was horridly shocked at the loss of his contact before she could come to completion.

"No touching," he reminded.

She sucked in an indignant breath and set her jaw in a renewed determination not to succumb to his will.

He began again slowly, allowing her to wind down, but not fully. Then he attacked again. His skilled tongue brought her quickly back to the edge of orgasm and she fisted her hands and held them clenched at her side to refrain from grabbing him again. She trembled and panted and clenched, and just as she spiraled toward her pinnacle, just as she was about to break apart, he pulled away again.

"I didn't touch you!" she gasped.

"I know," he answered nonchalantly, "I was getting bored. It's not as fun if I can't touch you."

The bastard! How dare he try to manipulate her like this? She stepped away from him and into the shadows where she bit her thumb and grimaced in frustration. She wanted to cum so badly now, but she didn't want to submit to him, either. And then it came to her. She turned and eyed him with candid resolve and lust.

He raised his eyebrows and crooked his finger, motioning for her to return to him. She smiled coyly and came back to kneel facing him. He reached for her, and she shied away. He cocked his head in amused curiosity and then in sensual fascination as she slipped her own hand beneath her skirt and began to rub herself.

This was not what he had in mind, but it was a pensieve moment to be sure. Miss Know-it-All Granger, the Gryffindor princess, and best friend to Harry Potter was masturbating in full view of her Slytherin rival and would be paramour.

It was unbelievably erotic to watch her hands, one gripping the folds of her skirt lifting it just high enough for him to see her run the fingers of her second hand up and down, grinding her clit and dipping into her core. Before he knew what he was doing, he had released himself from his shorts and joined her in the act.

She gasped when her eyes fluttered open and she found Theodore, still on his knees before her, pumping slowly in time with her. She was close, so close now, and this visual was certainly helping to push her to the edge. She whimpered and panted and rolled her hips in time with her fingers as her eyes remained fixed on Theodore.

"Come for me, Hermione," he rasped.

For him, her mind turned over his words. No, for me, she pushed deeper. For me, she rubbed faster. For me, she began to tremble. For me, she spiraled higher as his fist pumped faster. It was just there, just out of reach, if she could just, if he would just ... But she couldn't, and he didn't.

"Theo," she cried in frustration.

"Yes," he replied huskily.

"Kiss me, touch me," she demanded.

He closed the distance between them and clamped his mouth over hers, his tongue seeking hers as his hand took over her ministrations. He guided her hand to his and she took over stroking him, feeling the hard heat of him as she stroked in time with him. And it was good, so good. One of his hands was buried in her hair and the other was buried in her quim. His tongue stroked hers in rhythm with the stroke of his hand and she could feel herself coming apart around him, into him.

She shattered, and shuddered, and gushed, and moaned. She was barely conscious of the ropes of semen that shot from him as she continued to stroke him in time with her own aftershocks, but she felt each buck of his hips as he groaned into her mouth.

As he came down from his high, his heaving breaths became huffs of laughter. He collapsed on his cloak and held out his arms for her to join him with a relaxed and rather adorable grin on his face.

She slipped down beside him, exhausted, and he immediately wrapped his arms around her and drew her in for a languorous kiss.

"That was the best wank I've ever had," he grinned.

"Really?" she smirked, "I've had better."

He laughed uproariously and she hushed him with her hands and lips, "Shh, Mrs. Norris might hear."

"Ummm, Miss Granger," he sighed between kisses, "I think I might have struck the bargain of my life with you."

"Oh really?" she replied coquettishly.

"You agreed to let me kiss you for as long as I like. Suppose I decide I want to kiss you for the rest of my life?"

"You've only got until we leave this tower," she stated evenly, "If that is the extent of your life, it would certainly be a pity."

"Would you miss me?" he asked playfully.

"If you weren't such a manipulative, opportunistic bastard I just might."

"Unfortunately, I was not miss-sorted," he sighed in mock ruefulness.

"What about me?" she rejoined, "Aren't you going to tell me that if I wasn't such a bossy cow, we might get on better?"

"I like that you're a bossy cow. It's one of your finer attributes, as I believe I've told you once before. You're not fishing for compliments are you?" he teased.

"And what if I am?" she replied.

"Then I'll have to remind you that it isn't very ladylike to ask a gentleman to indulge you so."

"Then I'll have to remind you that nothing about our association has been polite or dignified enough to be construed as either gentlemanly or ladylike."

"It's been fun, though, hasn't it?" he smiled roguishly.

She laughed softly, "Yes, partly."

"Partly?" he asked in mock offense.

"The parts where you were a conniving bastard weren't really all that fun," she answered.

"Liar, liar, liar," he teased, leaning in to nip her lips again, "And all the good stuff only happened because I'm a conniving bastard."

"And because I'm a bossy cow?"

"Yes, and because you are a bossy, saucy, irresistible cow."

She snuggled in closer to him. "I won't tell, you know."

"You won't tell what?" he asked.

"About your plans. And I'll help you in case things … go wrong."

"Promise?" he asked with a hopeful kiss.

"No more promises," she smirked, "but you know very well that I'm too obstinate and controlling to let that cunt Riddle get his hands on you and your magic."

His eyes widened in shock even as his mouth turned up at her audacity. She referred to the Dark Lord by his surname and called him a cunt. He crushed his mouth into hers again and felt an overwhelming surge of affection for her, which seemed to be, for the first time in his life, a wholly reciprocated emotion.

xxxxxxx

As they exchanged a heated goodbye kiss at the bottom of the tower stairs, she knew this was the start of something big and life altering. She could feel it charging the air they shared, their faces held together with lips and tongues and murmured assurances that they would meet again soon. It yawned and loomed and beckoned her heart, pressed close to his. This was just the beginning. And the sensation beat in time with her heart and feet as she scurried away to her dorm, the book tapping against her side in her cloak pocket. Her priceless manual. Her destiny's guide.

Her dark materials.

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A/N: That's all I've got for now. I have a sketchy outline for more, but WIP's scare me, and I can't make any promises. I'm not sure if I should go on or not.

I suppose I drew a bit of inspiration from the movie Cruel Intentions, with Theo's trick, though I hadn't thought of it while I was writing. It just seemed the sneaky Slytherin thing to do for a clever and randy Theo. Reading it over again, I found it a bit too familiar, but I often find that with all erotica, to be honest. If anything else pops out at you, let me know so I can give props :)

And, again, thanks so much for the reviews. All of your kind words are very much appreciated.