Mature content ahead.

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Draco closed the door behind them as the gloomy room shifted in a soft color. Isla's eyes immediately snapped to Theodore's bed, and she swallowed at the thought of him and how she'd rushed out of there the last time she had been in their dormitory.

''Did you and Nott ever—'' Draco cleared his throat, gritting his jaws at the images flashing through her head, he didn't want to read them, yet he couldn't resist.

Isla tore her sight from the bed, turning around and looking at the blond. He saw just how stressed she was by this, ''Maybe I should go back downstairs—'' She gulped, shaking her head.

''Don't—'' Malfoy caught her waist, pulling her into him as he let his hand rest on her hip. He looked down at her from above, ''You don't have to sleep in that bed, I can take that one, and you can have mine.''

Still hesitating as he noticed, ''Clarke, it's alright. I'll sleep in his bed, and you'll sleep in mine.''

Frowning at the way he was acting, not being used to the more humane side of Malfoy, her mind clouded annoyingly. The thoughts of him using her all over again haunted her, ''It's not a problem for me to sleep downstairs, it's just for tonight, and then I'll talk to Leo in the morning—''

Draco angrily hissed at that as he drew a harsh breath in between his teeth. The thought of her sharing a room with another boy bothered him tremendously. Not because he believed she'd ever do anything with her best friend, but the idea of Leo watching her bare skin in between the covers.

''Don't—'' Isla said again, peering up at him from underneath her lashes, ''He's like a brother to me, Malfoy. It's not like that, and it never will be, perhaps I forgot to mention the part where I walked in on him and Mila, sleeping together—''

''Fine!'' Draco yelled, in half a chuckle, ''Fucking hell, Clarke. Don't put that image in my head.''

''Then don't question me,'' She pushed her hands into his chest, shoving him back slightly, ''If I had to live through that, so do you.''

Rolling his eyes away from her, he nodded towards his bed, ''Go sleep,'' He spat out harshly, not wanting to ease the tension too much.

But the girl didn't move. She stood frozen as he let his hands off her waist, staring down at her confusingly. He understood this was strange to her, him offering his bed for her to sleep in.

He'd seen her thoughts.

How she didn't know how to handle the situation properly and how she didn't wish for Draco to sleep in a bed where she'd been with another boy. Isla didn't want anyone to sleep on Theodore's bed since they'd been on it.

It rocked sickly within Malfoy at the thoughts in her mind, and he sensed as anger boiled. Simply the image of her and Theodore, along with the way she was missing him — even if she would never admit to it, she missed the brunet a lot.

Malfoy stopped. He withdrew from her head before he got to the more intrusive parts. This wasn't about him. He knew that. It was about her and Theo.

''Clarke, go lay down on my damn bed,'' He muttered, his eyes snapping down her figure, noticing the clothes she was wearing, and he sighed, stalking up to his dresser and he pulled a t-shirt out, ''Here,''

Reaching his hand out, he handed it to her, and Isla took it, her sight flickered between him and the shirt she was holding, ''Are you sure—''

''It's a fucking shirt, Clarke. Can you stop being so bloody insecure around me? It's a shirt, simple as that, but if you'd rather sleep in your uniform, it's fine by—''

''No,'' She mumbled, ''I'm sorry, thank you.'' She nervously strode up to his bed, raising her brows at him as he looked at her, ''Well, turn around—''

Draco smirked, flopping down on Theodore's bed as he kept his eyes locked in hers, biting down onto his bottom lip, ''It's nothing I haven't seen before—''

''It is, actually, so if you don't mind,'' Rolling her eyes and shooting him a glare, he groaned, lying flat on his back so he couldn't see her, ''Thank you,'' She muttered, and she dragged her clothes off, changing into the shirt he'd given her.

Sitting down onto the edge of his bed, she crossed her legs, tucking the shirt down in between them, and he propped himself up again, ''Wasn't that hard, Clarke, was it?''

She frowned at him playfully, but it didn't hold for long. Draco stood up, unbuckling his pants as they fell to the ground, threading his shirt over his head until he was standing, nearly exposed in front of her.

Smirking, devilishly at the way she was staring at his toned muscles, ''I know I'm hot, Clarke, there's no need to stare—''

''Oh, shut up!'' Isla laughed out. Her cheeks colored, blushingly, ''I wasn't even looking—''

''Yeah?'' He grinned, lifting a brow as he took a stride towards her in between the beds. Her spine collided with the mattress as he towered her, one hand on each side of her head, ''Then why are you soaked?''

His breaths felt heated upon her skin, his face close to hers, ''Tell me you wouldn't be wet for me if I touched you right now—''

Lingering near her, Draco breathed, "If I touched you, right where you need me to be..."

''I'm—'' Isla shook her head, hair spilled widely around her, ''I'm not — please,''

''Liar,'' He rasped, so lowly that it made her whine out, ''A pretty fucking liar.''

And then — he pushed away, backing up until he slipped down on Theodore's bed again, leaving her on his bed as her chest heaved and her eyes fluttered closed.

''Now go to fucking sleep,'' Draco growled out, and she caught as he shifted around in the sheets, getting comfortable, and with his wand, he turned the lights off, ''We have class tomorrow, so sleep, Clarke.''

Not answering, she shoved herself up the mattress, flipping the covers aside and tucking down beneath them. It felt heavenly to her — Malfoy's covers sensed to be made out of pure silk.

For an hour, they both laid there. In the dark — not a word shared between them, but she caught his breaths and his small shifts in position as the crispy sheets shrugged. Her eyes glued to the ceiling, and she tried to be as quiet as she could.

She didn't know if he was sleeping or not — so she rested there, once she rolled over to her side, looking at the bathroom door as it was outlined in the shadows.

Shuddering slightly at the brisk air in the room, Isla turned to lay on her back again. It was impossible for her to sleep, and Draco noticed.

Grunting, silently, he propped himself up on his elbow, ''Do you need another blanket? Or what will it take for you to shut up?''

Scoffing softly at his question, she rolled her eyes in the gloominess, ''No, I'm okay,''

''For fucks sake, Clarke, just take another blanket—''

''No, I'm good.'' She stated again, harsher this time, and he groaned at her, still hearing as she shuddered from time to time.

Isla turned to her side again, her head heavy upon the pillow as she drew a breath, feeling the scent of Draco as it stuck to her. She didn't mind it. He scented clean, fresh — yet so darkly and mysterious.

Lying there for a bit of time, her thoughts vividly rushing through her head until she winced, her back arching the very instant she felt his body pressed against hers.

Draco didn't say a word. He was quiet, having the most bothersome face as he felt her cold frame smoothingly brushing against his.

''Malfoy, what are you—'' Isla tossed around, now facing him in the shadows as he waved his head slightly, gesturing for her to be hushed.

Inhaling sharply, her hand pushed underneath the pillow, and she looked at him, staring almost as bemusingly as he did. Not a word was spoken as her skin robbed him of all the warmth he brought.

Malfoy tried to look away, not to scan and memorize her as he indeed was, but those freckles fading into her skin held him captive. He couldn't stop breathing her in.

It angered him so much that all he craved to do was to throw her out. To slam the door shut and ask her to go to hell, all because he didn't have the strength to stop looking at her, yet he couldn't restrict himself from her head.

Feeling as her throughs mesmerized him, he kept lingering, flipping through her like the most hypnotizing book he'd ever read. She knew he did, Isla saw as his eyes squinted — the corner of them twitching.

She smiled, and it didn't trouble her that he was in there, that he was looking through her mind as his heated breath fanned her skin. Turning to lay leveled on her back, she stared up at the ceiling again while he was looking at her.

Biting down her lower lip the instant her mind traveled to a place it wasn't supposed to.

His body pressed to hers, his knuckles underneath the sheets as they brushed against the tender skin of her thigh.

Draco hissed quietly at the imagination in her head, but he didn't falter — he propped himself up on one elbow, still turned to her, and her head snapped, watching him in the dimmed moonlight.

''Don't look at me,'' He mumbled, his hand on her jaw as he angled her head back to parallel the roof, ''Close your eyes.''

Isla frowned, sucking in a harsh breath as she let her lashes flutter closed.

''There you go,'' Draco let his forehead tip to her cheek, nudging her to the side as he brushed his nose along her jawline, ''Do you want me to feel you, Clarke? Just like you thought about?''

''Do you want me to ease those nerves of yours and make you feel so good for me?'' He rasped out, grazing his teeth along her neck as she nearly whined out at the tension, ''Yeah?''

''Yes,'' She whispered, her fingers balled around the sheets, ''I do.''

''Mhm...'' He hummed, pushing his lips at where her pulse was beating, and Isla gasped out. It felt like floating on feathers to her — him kissing her neck, down her collarbones, and over her shoulder, ''Shhh... don't speak, let me take care of you and don't speak.''

Isla could feel in the way he was touching her that he almost pitied her. He was never this gentle. Not once had he spoken so tenderly to her as he did now.

She couldn't take the strain within herself as he kissed down her shoulder where his t-shirt slipped down, and her neck moved, looking at him again.

It was a spark as it ignited around them, and his hand slowly moved down her thigh, lasting right above the hem of her underwear. His fingers were teasing as her lower lip began to quiver.

He caught it, pressing his lips to hers, and he took every gasp fleeing her throat as he let his touch trace lower, and he put pressure upon her, biting her lip and groaning silently at the taste of her mouth moving along with his.

''Quiet,'' He mumbled at her trying to pull away for air, "Stay like this, and be quiet, Clarke.''

It stung in her chest, her spine slightly arching, ''Please—'' She breathed, feeling as the tips of his fingers reached exactly where she needed him to be, ''Malfoy—''

''For fucks sake, Clarke—'' He growled in a whisper, harshly as he allowed their tongues to battle, ''Be fucking quiet.''

Isla hummed, the untied hand, not gripping the covers, landed on his jaw, and she pulled herself closer to him. Clinging onto the blond with all she had as his fingers circled her clit.

''Fuck, Clarke...'' He murmured, his tone rough yet so low, ''You're always so damn wet for me, so fucking ready for me to mark you mine, yeah?''

Whining out as he shoved himself up on one arm, lowering himself over her, and she knew he did it to please her better — to reach every spot she craved for him to touch. But it still felt as if he wanted to be closer to her. Not once did he rip their lips apart.

She nodded to the question, and her fingers trailed over his hair, tugging it back by the roots before clawing at his neck. It made her lashes flutter, her breaths light as he let his hand fall deeper between them.

Throwing her head back, her neck arched, and he wasn't slow to follow the movement, attacking her throat with the hot, wet kisses. He kissed her skin this time — he didn't bite, he didn't suck on it.

He simply kissed her.

Pushing his finger into her dripping cunt, she shook. Her breaths became unsteady as her heartbeat bloated in her ears.

Only the feeling of Draco looking at her, studying her parted lips, and her skin as it blushed was enough for her to come undone.

''Malfoy, please—'' She was begging him now, her chest heaving against his, but he didn't answer. He kept pushing his finger in and out of her wet cunt, and easily so, her slick arousal coated them perfectly.

He pushed hard, fast, yet intimately slow. Curling his fingers to where he knew her sweet spot to be. He'd done this before. He knew exactly how to make her gasp for air as her nails dug into his shoulders.

Draco knew where to angle his fingers at the precise time he kissed that sensitive spot on her shoulder. It made her tremble. It earned his name to spill from her throat in a heavenly fusion.

Isla was so hot and tight around him. He'd lose it right there if he didn't tame himself enough — if he simply let that part of himself go, the part that kept holding him back from marking her.

Her cunt was addicting to him, hardly getting enough of her.

Sensing how she clenched around him, her walls hugging his finger as he let his thumb back onto her clit, ''Come for me,'' He whispered, stroking his nose along her jawline, ''Come for me, Clarke.''

Rolling her hips underneath him, feeling as he turned rougher, his hand slamming against her. His fingers forcing into her tight cunt at a punching pace now.

Tipping her head back and meeting his eyes again, she nearly drowned in them. The darkened lashes thickly framing his icing eyes as he let his forehead rest on hers, and he angled his whole hand, making her grip his spine harder.

''There you go, Clarke, now let go for me—'' Draco breathed, seeing how her eyes rolled, and she bucked her hips to meet the gesture, ''Fuck, come on, let me feel you.''

''I'm—'' It shredded through her, violently and her every nerve shook uncontrollably as her moans ripped from her throat, ''Malfoy, I—''

She came, crashing down from the skies he'd raised her to, and she was a rocking mess within. Her eyes rolling, her spine arching as her head struck the pillow. Draco couldn't do else than admire the way she'd let him feel her again.

But Isla didn't let him go. She held onto him solidly as she connected their lips once more, ''Let me feel you too...'' She whispered, ''Let me be with you.''

The words and the way she spoke them alighted within the cage of his chest, ''Clarke—'' He cocked his head, groaning at her thighs as they wrapped around his waist.

''Please,'' She held her tone low, bringing him down on her completely, ''Please let me feel you too.''

Feeling as she bucked her hips up to his, and he couldn't take the friction. She was too much for him to stand against. Dipping his hand between them and pushing the fabric of his boxers aside, he brought out his cock, and Isla whimpered at the sense of his tip, stroking along with her core.

''You want this, yeah?'' He groaned, close to the shell of her ear, ''You want me to fuck you? You want me to fuck everyone who had you before me — out of you and destroy you for anyone else?''

''Please—'' She begged as he let his cock slide down her slit, teasing her until she was heaving for air, ''Please, I want you, Draco—''

It was as if someone poured ice-cold water over him — a chock of electricity back to verity, and he yanked his head up, creating distance between them.

''What did you call me?'' His voice was dark and threatening, ''What the fuck did you just call me, Clarke?''

Not even waiting for her to catch her breath and answer, he bent up, kneeling back on the mattress as he dragged the sheets over his waist. That lust-filled stare he'd owned before burnt out in a second and was replaced with pure disgust.

Malfoy gritted his jaws, and he looked away from her shocking self, ''Get out,'' He spat, shaking his head from a distance, ''I said get the fuck—''

Isla flinched back, her eyes widened at what he'd said as she crawled back over the mattress, ''I'm sorry—''

She didn't understand what she did wrong, but she didn't fight him on it either as she slipped down the edge of the bed and she grasped at the floor for her dress. Her legs were shaky, and her breaths even more uneven.

Not once did it clock her what she'd done. Draco didn't say a word as she tugged at the edges of his t-shirt, indecisive as to if she was supposed to leave it behind and get back into her dress or if she was meant to keep it on.

Sighing out silently, she almost tripped towards the door, and she froze as her hand closed around the doorknob. Turning around, watching his toned back muscles as they flexed in the moonlight.

''Malfoy—''

''Just, get the fuck out, right now,'' He nearly yelled, still refusing to spare her as much as a glare, ''Get the fuck out, Clarke, before I fucking throw you out.''

Isla swallowed the lump in the back of her throat, and she did as he'd asked.

She walked out.

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