Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1269790.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Sanguini/Hermione_Granger
  Character:
      Hermione_Granger, Sanguini
  Additional Tags:
      Menstruation, Oral_Sex, Underage_Sex, Vampire_Sex, Dubious_Consent
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-03-04 Words: 997
****** Red Night ******
by Evandar
Summary
     Sanguini is under orders not to bite any of the students at
     Slughorn's Christmas party. That doesn't mean he can't find a way to
     feed on them.
Notes
     This was written for a prompt on the BloodyValentine DW community.
“Don’t be shy,” he whispered. “It’s the best time of the month.”
She stared down at him incredulously before slowly starting to relax. He kept
smiling at her, stroking small circles on her thighs as he moved his hands up
under her skirt, pushing the material upwards and lowering his head. The smell
of blood was intoxicating, and he pressed his nose into the gusset of her
underwear to inhale her scent deeper.
He’d been told not to bite any of the students; that his presence here would be
tolerated for as long as he could keep himself under control. That was fair. He
wasn’t quite the animal the Wizards thought he was, and it was easy to stop
himself from sinking his fangs into pale, slender necks (although some of the
students were far more willing than their teachers might have expected) when
courtesy demanded it.
For this one, though, there didn’t need to be fangs. She was already bleeding
and she smelled so sweet.
He curled his fingers into the sides of her panties and slid them slowly down
over her hips revealing curls of brown hair and delicate pink lips and a thin,
white string – one of those devices Muggles used. She was a Muggleborn, then;
no matter. Wizards didn’t often like to hear it, but magic or the ‘purity’ of
their blood did little to affect taste.
He stroked his fingers over her lightly, drawing a soft gasp. She shifted,
clearly uncomfortable with what he was doing, but he soothed her with a kiss to
the inside of her thigh. He wound the string gently around his finger and
pulled. “Relax,” he said as she stiffened again. “Relax.”
“This is awfully strange,” she said.
“You’ll like it,” he told her, and pressed his lips to her clit. He bestowed
her with kisses first, still pulling, and when he felt the tension in her
thighs began to ease, he parted his lips to lap his tongue against her heated
flesh.
She gasped again and moaned, and he smiled against her as finally her tampon
came free and the smell of her rich, sweet blood strengthened. He grew bolder
in his licks, moving carefully lower, flattening his tongue to taste as much of
her as he could. One of her hands slid shyly into his hair, and he rewarded her
by suckling at her clit until she squirmed and moaned and dug her nails into
his scalp.
“Oh,” she whispered, and when she shifted again it was to press her hips down
against his mouth. “Oh yes.”
He drew back slightly and kissed her. He could smell arousal now alongside the
blood and knew now that he had won. She wouldn’t try to stop him or push him
away. He could feed without breaking his word and his victim would even be
willing. He licked a long stripe upward, from her entrance to the swollen nub
of her clit and tasted her blood properly for the first time.
Heaven. She was as sweet as she smelled.
His fangs ached to sink into her tender flesh, but he compromised by stabbing
his tongue into her instead. He gripped one of her thighs tightly, pushing it
upward to give him better access. She was sprawled back on an unused desk in an
abandoned classroom; he was sat on a chair between her legs, perfectly
positioned for the best possible access to her cunt. Her heel dug into his
shoulder and she clutched his hair tighter, pressing him as close as she could.
She was panting and moaning, whimpering pleas for release. He didn’t much care
if she got it – that wasn’t what he’d brought her here for – but he liked
making his victims scream, and if he couldn’t make her do so in terror then
pleasure would have to do.
He feasted greedily, lapping and sucking and fucking his tongue into her until
she cried out loudly, shunting her hips downwards to force his tongue deeper
inside. He withdrew slowly, teasing her through her climax until she became
uncomfortable once more and began to try and tug him away. He licked his lips
and sat back in his chair, surveying his handiwork.
Her skin was flushed; the lips of her cunt were swollen red and the surrounding
hair was damp and matter with saliva and blood. One of her breasts was hanging
out of the neck of her dress, and its nipple was peaked. His sharp vision could
see faint bruises from his earlier groping, but he hadn’t been responsible for
all of it.
She brushed a loose lock of frizzy brown hair out of her face and moved to
close her legs. He let her. He’d hate for her to kick up a fuss, after all. “I
don’t usually do things like this,” she told him, shy again despite her earlier
wantonness.
“Think nothing of it,” he told her. “It was my pleasure.”
He watched her right herself; tuck her breast back into her bra and pin her
hair back again. She took another tampon from her purse and pushed it into
herself, and he smiled when he caught her faint moan. Overstimulated. She cast
him a shy glance over her shoulder before she left and smiled. He blew her a
kiss and relished the answering blush before the door closed behind her and her
footsteps faded down the hallway.
He raised his other hand and uncurled his fingers from around her used tampon.
He licked his fingers clean of the sticky blood clot that had clung to it and
slipped it into his pocket alongside the others. He’d return to the party in a
few moments and withstand Worple’s inane bluster for a while. There were
several other girls there he could convince this night, and he would have as
many of them as he could.
The young ones were always the sweetest, and on nights like these, they were
always the easiest to obtain.
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