Bite Marks (гет)

Draco’s mouth falls open.
He clutches his cookie and ignores the shower of crumbs littering his grey cashmere fingerless gloves.
He can’t decide if he wants to fuck this girl or fight with her. Maybe both? Maybe at the same time?
“So—you’re upset,” he says with a nonchalant nod and discreet adjustment of his slightly too-tight khaki corduroys.
She blinks at him, her expression alternating between indignation and incredulity and flat-out fury.
He had been right about her being pretty beneath the intimidation tactics.