Intoxicated and uncontrollable- 2

Draco felt his fangs, which he had almost forgotten about elongate at an alarming rate. His throat felt as if it had something burning it at that very moment, and his body continued to heat rapidly up to a high extent.

His cloudy gaze continued staring at his mate's sleeping form, her long, swan-like neck which was uncovered presently, by her hair which usually worked as effective curtains to hide it from unwanted stares.

Hermione's skin was white and clear like jade that her dark locks provided a strong contrast to. She is so mesmerizingly beautiful that he couldn't help but want to hold her in his arms and keep her there, protected from all dangers and ogling gazes of people who hide vile thoughts behind an innocent façade.

He took in her lean and elegant figure, her delicate curves that were just perfect, and her luscious fuchsia lips that screamed at him to join them with his own to quell the thirst of desire that they both had within for each other.

'Mine,' His mind chanted repeatedly as Draco finally lost his mind to his Veela self's unquenched lust and gave into the longing desire that he could no longer resist.

Agonizingly slowly, he dipped his head and neared his mouth towards her. Softly, he placed his dry lips on hers and a satisfied purr left his chest at the touch. After the brief contact, he forced his lips to leave her sweet ones and trailed them along her pale face and soft skin.

His lips slid across her jaw and moved down her throat to its bottom. His lithe fingers caressed her face.

Lifting his face slightly, he inhaled her sensual scent that aroused him even more. His fangs began to hurt against his lips that curled up to let them out.

'Mark her. Mark mate and make her mine!' Similar words echoed in his mind and his whole being agreed with it, except his heart.

'Stop, Draco. Mate will be mad. This is wrong!' This sane voice that came from his heart was probably his left over logic that should have resided in his head instead.

He paid no heed to it. He resolutely ignored the stinging pain in his chest. The fierce burn on his skin where his mate tattoo was right over his chest, mingled with the heat in his body, rendering him unable to differentiate the two.

He pecked the perfect spot he found to mark his lovely mate. After this, she would be his, their bond unbreakable, and nothing could come between them and drive them apart. He would not let that happen.

When he was a single hair strand's breadth away from the bottom juncture of her neck, near her collarbone, he heard a breathy whisper which startled him.

"What are you doing, Draco?"

He lifted his head and his gaze met Hermione's alert gaze. Her cheeks were flushed red and he could feel the fast pace of her heartbeat that was akin to the fluttering of a hummingbird's wings.

Hermione had felt hot, too hot in her sleep. At first the warmth had been pleasant, but before long it became uncomfortable because of its unfamiliarity.

When she was floating somewhere between consciousness and unconsciousness, Hermione felt a brief yet lingering kiss on her lips. Searing hot lips traced her jawline and planted feathery kisses on her smooth skin as they travelled down her neck.

She detected his strong, intoxicating scent that is unique to him, and felt his presence over herself. Confusion filled Hermione, and she felt flustered at his actions. She felt another peck at the bottom of her neck.

As Hermione woke up a bit more, she registered the burning pain at her upper back, right where her mate tattoo was. She remembered when she had first asked Draco about them, 'I don't know much either,' he had said then. They had left it at that.

The pain seemed to increase alarmingly, but was still bearable, though it woke Hermione up completely.

Opening her eyes, she asked her Veela mate, " What are you doing, Draco?" She caught him off-guard, and he lifted his gaze before becoming still as a statue, his silver orbs locked with her hazel ones. Not for long, however.

Draco turned his head to face away from the one he loves, avoiding her piercing stare.

He was more in control of himself now than before, but he was struggling to keep that up. Draco felt ashamed to look at her. He was furious at himself for losing himself like this. Marking was an important step of the mate bond, perhaps even the most important. He couldn't force it upon her.

Hermione observed him and sensed that he was engaged in a battle with himself and conflicting emotions were rising within him. She had a faint idea of what he was doing, what he was about to do.

Hermione was the brightest witch of her generation for a reason. She collected her memories from the visit to the infirmary earlier today. Adding two and two, she had gotten to a conclusion and just needed verification.

Before she could ask any further, though, the bed sheets rustled at his quick movements and the white blond raced out of her bedroom, leaving a faint whisper of "I am sorry, love."

Hermione stared wide-eyed at the open door he left behind him with parted lips.