Greetings to all my new and returning readers. I started Giving In years ago and have neglected it. I do intend to complete this story however, and have made a few revisions, so if you'll bear with me I think it'll be a good one. Hope you all enjoy it!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Just toying around with Draco and Hermione.

Giving In- Chapter 1

Hermione pushed her books away in frustration, letting out a sigh for the umpteenth time that night. She'd been unable to concentrate on anything for hours. The words of her tormentor, from the previous night, continuously plaguing her thoughts.

"For Merlin's sake, Malfoy. Put some clothes on!" she'd said exasperatedly, snapping her book shut and leaning back into the sofa. The Slytherin had taken to parading about their shared common room in nothing but his underpants of late.

Either the lecherous git had no semblance of decency, or he just really enjoyed irritating her. Hermione guessed the latter, or- knowing Malfoy- both.

"What? Don't like what you see, Granger?" he taunted, smirking suggestively.

The righteous Gryffindor huffed and raised her chin indignantly, letting her face scrunch up in distaste. "No."

The Slytherin scoffed as he came to stand before her. "You like it and you know it, Granger." His voice was full of conviction as he buffed his nails against his naked chest. "I've seen the way you look at me." He stated plainly, leering down at her. "You want me, Granger, and it's only a matter of time until you give in."

At the time, she'd merely narrowed her eyes at him and retreated to her room, muttering a string of profanities at the Slytherin's audacity. But, now? Now Hermione couldn't stop thinking about the way Bloody Malfoy's muscles rippled beneath his alabaster skin when he moved, or the way his boxers hung ever-so-low on his hips, showing off the patch of platinum hair decorating that perfect V.

"You want me, Granger, and it's only a matter of time until you give in." The words haunted her. Stated plainly, as though he were merely making a casual observation.

And the cheeky prat had been correct, of course. Hermione wanted him. For some unfathomable reason, she did. She ached to feel his hands, calloused- rough from years of quidditch- firmly grasping her waist, caressing her in places in which she'd never actually been touched.

The witch groaned in frustration. She leaned back against her headrest and rubbed her temples with her middle fingers in an attempt to get the Sytherin out of her mind. It didn't work. She contemplated- for only a minute- leaving her room and knocking on his door, attacking his lips as soon as he stepped out, but decided against it.

This was Draco Malfoy she was thinking about. The boy who'd mercilessly tormented, not only Hermione, but her friends as well since their arrival at Hogwarts. The boy who'd taunted her with that horrible word- who'd made her cry on more occasions than she'd like to admit.

In truth, Hermione couldn't help but feel a little disappointed in herself. She'd never been particularly superficial, and while admittedly inexperienced, she was aware that looks were often just a beautiful distraction from the truth.

Malfoy was beautiful, of course, and while he'd traded in his taunts about her heritage for the slightly-less-insulting occasional vulgar remark of late, Malfoy was still very much Malfoy.

The very thought of them together was an affront to herself, and her friends. It was wrong. She knew it, and so Hermione resolved to expel the Head Boy from her thoughts.

A couple of nights later, however, Hermione found herself in the same predicament. She sighed once more, banging her head against the headrest repeatedly. "Get out. Get out. Get out," she whispered furiously.

And suddenly, in a moment of what she would later refer to as complete and utter insanity, Hermione did something that she had never done before.

The Head Girl threw caution to the wind and leapt from her bed, heart pounding and mind uncharacteristically blank.

Hermione swung her door open and took the three steps over to his. She knocked and proceeded to wait. Just as she was about to knock once more, the door opened, revealing a very disheveled and half naked Draco Malfoy.

"For Merlin's sake, Granger do you know what bloody time-" he stopped as he caught her gaze, and smirked. "Ah. So, you're finally giving in."

She wanted to slap the dastardly smirk right off his pretty face, but instead pushed him back into his room, closing the door behind them. "Shut up, Malfoy," she whispered before twining her fingers in his platinum hair and proceeding to pull him down and capture his lips in a blazing kiss.

Draco, startled by her enthusiasm, was momentarily struck dumb. He regained his wits, however, as he felt the little Gryffindor's lips part against his own, returning the kiss fervently and slipping his tongue into the warm cavern of her mouth. His hands trailed down her sides, to her waist, fingering the hem of her tank top, sending shivers up her spine. Hermione moaned into the kiss, trailing her fingers along his broad, bare shoulders and down his back- muscles tightening beneath his skin as her fingers went.

Draco swiftly stripped her of her tank top and groaned when he felt Hermione's naked breasts press against his chest. Gods, but the little witch wasn't wearing a bra. He lowered his head and placed chaste kisses down her neck and across her collar bone, pausing only to leave his marks on her soft ivory skin. He knelt down before her and licked a line from her clavicle, down the flat expanse of her stomach, stopping at the waistband of her flannel pajama pants.

He pulled them down, revealing lacey blue knickers, perfectly rounded hips and delectably shapely legs. He placed a soft kiss at the juncture between her thighs, lips grazing lace, and heard her gasp. Smirking, Draco pulled the garment down her legs and tossed it aside.

The imposing Slytherin rose to his feet and pulled the petite, naked witch to him, roughly. She could feel his erection pressing against her stomach and groaned as he kissed her soft, swollen lips and trailed his hands up her back, her neck, before burying his fingers into her mass of curls.

Pulling away from her lips, Draco stood back to gaze upon the Gryffindor Princess in all of her glory, and good Merlin, but she was glorious.

He traced the contours of her breasts with his thumbs and kneeled once more to take one pink nipple in his mouth, flicking his tongue over the peak, feeling it harden as he continued to tease it. She moaned in pleasure and he brought his mouth over to the other. Hermione threw her head back, closing her eyes and ran her fingers through Draco's hair as he continued to lave at the sensitive, little nub.

He kissed his way back up to her lips, kneading her breasts almost roughly as he ravished her mouth. Hermione slipped two fingers beneath the waistband of his boxers and ran them about his waist, dragging the band low, before pulling it back up, repeatedly. Draco growled impatiently and yanked his boxers down. He wanted her. Had to have her.

Finally.

Hermione's eyes widened at the sight of him. Right before her stood Draco Malfoy in all his well-endowed glory. Her fantasies had not done him an ounce of justice, and the modest witch found herself suddenly hesitant.

He smirked, repeating his words from the other night. "What? Don't like what you see, Granger?"

She took a deep, steadying breath and gazed up at him, the heat in her caramel eyes was answer enough. Draco pushed her onto his bed and parted her legs with his knee, spreading her out before him. He couldn't help the way his mouth watered at the sight of her, or the way his cock twitched as he took her in.

Hermione's eyes were heavy- lidded with lust, her hair was a tangled mess, and an amorous blush graced her cheeks. Draco couldn't stop himself from leaning down and running his tongue along her ravished lips. "By the gods, Granger," he murmured against her mouth, eliciting a wanton moan from the chaste little witch.

Draco took in a steadying breath before positioning himself at her entrance, knowing it would take all of his control to keep from prematurely spilling himself all over the little Gryffindor.

With his stormy gray eyes boring into the soft brown ones of his long time enemy, Draco thrust, breaking past her virginal barrier and burying himself to the hilt.

Hermione yelped, a few involuntary tears trailing down her rosy cheeks.

Merlin, he hadn't known.

"Fuck, Granger, I-I didn't know you were a-"

"I'm fine, just give me a moment," she said, adjusting herself beneath him, cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

Hermione nodded up at him shyly when she was ready and he drew out and thrust back in, slowly, kissing away the stray tears that lingered on her cheeks.

The initial discomfort faded gradually and after several shallow thrusts, Hermione wrapped her legs around his waist, urging him on. Deeper. Faster. She matched him thrust-for-thrust, moan-for-moan.

Merlin, if she'd known what it would be like, she would have given into Malfoy a hell of a lot sooner.

Hermione could feel herself teetering over the precipice of pleasure as Draco pounded into her. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh was wildly erotic and with each thrust she drew closer to the zenith of sex. She could feel her walls begin to clench around his cock.

Hermione felt Draco's hand wedge between their bodies, felt his finger circle her clitoris, again and again and she fell. She saw stars- all the beautiful constellations- in a technicolor swirl as she dove into her orgasm. She moaned his surname. Once. Twice. Three times.

The sound of Hermione's sensual voice calling out his family name, as well as the look of undeniable rapture on her face was enough to send Draco over the edge as well. With one final thrust, he came, moaning her own surname as he spilt his seed into her warm confines and collapsed atop the pretty witch.

He nestled his face into the crook of her neck, breathing in her sweet scent, along with the musky smell of sweat and sex. A scent that he would come to identify as distinctly Hermione Granger.

Once they'd caught their breath, Draco reached for his wand, which lay on his bedside table, and murmured a contraceptive spell. Kissing Hermione gently on the lips, Draco pulled out of her warmth and rolled onto his side, pulling her against him.

"Sleep," he whispered softly into her ear, wrapping his arms around the little Gryffindor's slim waist.

And she did. Hermione quickly floated out of consciousness and into a deep, satisfaction-induced sleep, where the only thing she dreamed of was a pair of stormy, gray eyes.

Thank you for reading. Please review!