Draco Malfoy X Potter Reader Novels & Stories

Despite being held by Draco, she felt like she was going to collapse. Draco leaned in close to her, their faces were inches apart. In fact, the tips of their noses were almost touching. She could feel his labored breathing and the scent of his breath, a mix of mint and liquor. His face remained emotionless, even as her piercing gaze bore into him.

But due to the appearance of the lady boss, I had thought Draco was changing, but it seems he was still the feared devil in the underworld. I could already hear the heart wrenching screams as soon as we got out of the elevator and entered the corridor, making our way to the room at the end of the hallway. The pungent smell of blood and sweat and rotten body parts due to wounds on some of the prisoners that were left untreated filled our nostrils, but Draco seemed unfazed as he took calculated and controlled steps towards the door. Draco made his way to the huge chair that was reserved for him anytime he came around to watch and sat down like a king. Only that he looked like the king of hell.

"I will do everything within my power to save your child." With utmost care, Draco scooped me up in his arms, cradling me against his chest as he carried me to the inner chamber. Laying me down gently on the cool floor, he retrieved a worn spellbook, its pages crackling with ancient knowledge. His eyes skimmed the text as his fingers traced the faded glyphs upon the pages, his voice resonating with a mixture of power and vulnerability as he began to chant the incantations that promised to defy the natural order.

His cocky demeanor faltered. Draco hadn't moved. His posture was rigid, his gaze burning into me. I could feel the intensity of it, like a physical touch, a possessive claim. The air around him seemed to crackle with suppressed fury and undeniable arousal. I reveled in the power of it. I leaned closer to Mark, my voice dropping conspiratorially, but still loud enough for Draco to hear. “He’s very… thorough. And he doesn't like tardiness.” Mark cleared his throat. “Right. Well. Um. So… you wanna grab coffee sometime?” He was flustered.

The low murmur of conversation and clinking of glasses did nothing to settle the restless energy coiling in my muscles. I felt a light tap on my back as I turned to meet Dalia, who was dressed in a silk evening gown with her hair flowing in waves down her shoulders. "We are placed close to each other," she said, leading me to the front row tables as I saw my name on the seat and Tyrion's beside it. The sight of our names together on that little card made something possessive and unwanted unfurl in my chest. The table was a round table of six with me, Gretchen, and Kaida, and each of our selected partners. Gretchen was already seated with a boy I knew as Kai next to her. Kai wasn't one with m