Draco had barely seen you all day. And when he did, you either ignored him completely or acted like he didn’t exist. After your argument the day before, you were clearly trying to prove a point—and you were doing a damn good job of it.

He had tried to apologize once. A quick, stubborn “I didn’t mean it”—but you’d walked off before he could even finish. Now, hours later, frustration was simmering beneath his skin, close to boiling.

This wasn’t new. You’d pulled this icy act before, pushing his buttons, testing his patience. Usually, he could crack you—draw you back in with a smirk, a touch, a whispered word. But this time? You were holding out. Longer than he liked. Too long.

So when he saw you glide past him in the Slytherin common room, not sparing him so much as a glance as you disappeared toward your dorm, something snapped. He didn’t speak. He didn’t follow right away. But he was already planning exactly what he’d do once he got you alone.

It took a while before he could slip away unnoticed. Then, with quiet steps, he made his way up the staircase and down the girls’ corridor—his heart pounding, jaw tight. He didn’t bother knocking.

The door swung open, and your head jerked up in surprise. The moment your eyes met his, your expression hardened. You scowled. But Draco only stepped inside and shut the door behind him—locking it with a soft click.

“Go away. I still don’t want to—” you started, but your words cut off as he crossed the room in just a few strides, took your wrist, and pulled you up from the bed with a firm but controlled grip.

“Oh, darling,” he said softly, almost mockingly, his breath brushing your cheek as he leaned in. His voice dropped to a near whisper. “This has gone on long enough.”

You froze under his gaze, your breath catching when his lips skimmed across your skin—just enough to leave a trail of heat. A shiver ran down your spine. You hated how easily he could affect you. He knew it too.

“You don’t get to ignore me all day and think I’ll just let it go. That’s not how this works.”

With a guiding hand on your shoulder, he eased you back down onto the bed. Then, tilting your chin up between his fingers, he forced your gaze to meet his. His touch was gentle, but firm—controlling.

“You were a jerk, Draco. You deserved—”

Again, you didn’t finish. His grip tightened slightly around your jaw, just enough to hush you. His eyes flicked down to your parted lips, then back to your eyes—hungry, unreadable. You were defiant, heated, and maddening. And he loved every second of it.

“I think,” he said, his voice now thick with low, sensual danger, “you need a little reminder of who’s really in charge here.”

Your pulse kicked up as your stomach flipped, his words sending a thrill through your entire body. And he saw it—your pupils dilating, your breath quickening, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at your mouth despite yourself.

Draco’s mouth curled into a wicked grin, that possessive gleam lighting his features.

“Oh, it’s going to be a very long night.”