Prisoners of Love - A Mystery - COMPLETE
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Lucius/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
41
Views:
76,173
Reviews:
999
Recommended:
2
Currently Reading:
1
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Lucius/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
41
Views:
76,173
Reviews:
999
Recommended:
2
Currently Reading:
1
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Wedding Night
______________________________________________________
Updated 8-9-07
Your reviews are spectacular. I'm showing my appreciation by passing out drool rags for everyone for your convenience (and so I don't get thrown out of AFF for a story which leaks liquid onto other authors' contributions). You have a choice of pink, yellow, or blue. There's plenty for everyone, but please be sure to take one. We've got a heavy duty lemon coming up.
To HeatherDew Snape will appear a little later. And Amanda Rose, consider this AU fanfiction for book seven.
Shiloh Answers for Ron and Harry now available...
I don't think Hermione and Lucius will be playing checkers tonight...
______________________________________________________
Chapter Ten
Wedding Night
Hermione ran a small drying spell over her hair, happy to see that apparently her magic was not as constricted in this little apartment as it was in their cell. With her locks fluffed up in their normal – thank the Gods, clean – curls, she concentrated on the bed. Should she get in and cover up with the bedcover? Or would that be too missish, earning her Lucius’ scorn for her timid approach to sex? Well, so what!?! she decided. It WAS her first time and she WAS a little timid. Lucius could live with it. Hermione scurried over to the side of the bed, sat down and slid the covers over her lap, holding them to her chest just as her handsome husband walked out of the bathroom drying his own hair with the towel, obscuring his face.
Saint Guinevere’s Girdle! Hermione was shocked at her first good look at Lucius’ thick male weapon. It swung as he walked, bumping sideways over his large smooth sac, absolutely mesmerizing her into a terrified trance. It looked so utterly foreign and long and intimidatingly masculine. Had that been what she’d touched when she’d been feeling him up in the shower? It had felt fatter and even longer. Hermione blushed to the roots of her curly hair. Seeing it in the flesh, so to speak, was quite an education. The head or whatever it was called clinically, actually fell well below his testicles and they were impressive. Hermione began to rethink her euphoria at sleeping with this potent vision of unadorned, strolling male sex. If it truly swelled as much as she’d felt, she was in big trouble.
At that moment Lucius dropped the towel from his hair and saw Hermione’s goggle-eyed stare at his personal treasures. He had been mentally drifting into his prospective existence as a husband, thinking about his life and his marriage to a Muggleborn, and his immediate sexual excitement had waned as the distant future became more real. But when he had dropped the towel from his hair and was confronted with the reality of his new wife again, the distant future receded to be replaced by the present and the revival of his overpowering, poignant, fierce attraction to his petite spouse. Vague disquiet colored his urgent responsiveness to this tiny bewitching wife of his, but his hormones shouted down his hesitation as he moved toward the side of the bed where an awestruck Hermione sat waiting with trepidation.
He was irresistibly drawn to her, this little intelligent, fierce spitfire of a witch and his attraction hadn’t changed from the first moment she’d been tossed into his cell. He’d met her before, of course, as an adversary in their political skirmishes and ultimately in their opposite stances on the future of the magic world. He’d been knocked out of the fighting with his first episode of incarceration in Azkaban after the Department of Mysteries debacle, but his re-emergence into the aftermath of the fray after his release had taught him to be much more careful in his activities.
He’d been right to be wary because even though Voldemort had gone down to defeat against the Light, the witch and wizard hunt afterward had ultimately sent him back to Azkaban again. Lucius knew he’d been railroaded by the Ministry who had wanted him in prison on principle, so Lucius had been clothed in stripes again after lengthy legal foot dragging. He often ruminated on the irony of the situation; he had usually done most of the railroading before. However, for his second incarceration Lucius had been more prepared for his stay on the North Sea rock. What he hadn’t been prepared for was Hermione.
Lucius came to stand at the side of the bed and stood facing her, amusing himself with her wide-eyed focus on his lengthening, hardening cock. He was aroused by her stare and it was showing in no-nonsense terms in his groin. In seconds he was fully engorged and his appendage was displayed in all its ruddy splendor.
“I imagine you would like to have those ‘sores’ removed?” Without waiting for her reply he removed the covers she’d been shielding herself with, lightly ran his hands over all the infected areas and watched the spots fade to nothing.
Hermione, entranced, never lost sight of that amazing male appendage. It was so fascinating she barely heard Lucius’ remarks about her spots and only reacted to his light touch with a ticklish wiggle. She was firmly focused on the pulsing vein threading from near the tip of his member down to his groin. She had never seen anything like it and couldn’t peel her eyes from the exotic maleness of him.
Lucius reached down with his finger, first lightly pressing under the little witch’s chin to close her awestruck mouth and then grabbing up Hermione’s hand in his. He drew it to his member and wrapped her limp fingers around himself, giving her a quick demonstration of how he liked to be touched. “Here… and especially here,” his own fingers taught hers how to touch and stroke the sensitive underside of his glans and the area under his sac. “Yessss,” he hissed as Hermione proved she was a very fast learner.
Hermione was so close to this amazing part of her husband she could have leaned forward and kissed it – action followed thought a split second later and she did. Right on the tip. Two large, guiding hands immediately slid into her hair, keeping her face against his organ which was twitching with need, silently begging for more caresses from her soft lips. Hermione tentatively poked her tongue out and licked the end eliciting a fierce groan of satisfaction from a totally enthralled Lucius.
She was encouraged by his deep murmuring voice spurring her on between involuntary moans as she explored the surface of her mate’s penis from tip to root. It was velvety yet firm and she loved knowing Lucius was enslaved by her tongue’s meandering slide down his length. She peeked up at his face and saw him staring down at her progress, but his beautiful arctic eyes were glazed over, hypnotized, viewing his tiny wife’s oral stimulation with a fixed stare. Oh, yes, this was the way to make him a besotted, drooling captive although she hadn’t envisioned the drool as coming from the tip of his penis. The books hadn’t mentioned that.
With a shameless surge of female power over her handsome husband, Hermione dared more. She ran her fingers up the swollen organ, holding his massive tool pointing up by firmly squeezing the shaft, and opened her mouth over his sac, sucking half of it into the warm moist interior behind her lips and batting the round testicle gently, playfully. Lucius’ inarticulate hiss and his sudden clutching hands in her hair told her she had done something just right and she repeated her attentions to his other side, rubbing the special spot behind his testes that Lucius had shown her. Suddenly she was airborne as Lucius disengaged her torturing tongue and fingers and scooped her up in his arms, flinging her onto the bedcover and coming down on top of her.
“You learn entirely too quickly,” Lucius remonstrated, opening his own lips over her breast and sucking as much of it into his mouth as he could. He needed a breather to recover his control as he paid back her impish attentions to his balls by flicking his tongue over one tender, tight nipple with fast, firm strokes and applying a pinching finger and thumb to her other crest, making her keen with unbridled rapture at the doubled sensations that were so new to her untried body.
Hermione didn’t know she was frantically drumming her heels on the mattress as she in turn slid her fingers into Lucius’ hair and held him in place on her breast. She wanted him pressing down on her more and more, she couldn’t get enough of his engorged penis grinding against her most needy spot, “Show me, Lucius. I want you, now, now, now! Please, Lucius,” Hermione was so wound up she was beginning to cry softly, begging him brokenly to drive his body into hers. All fear fled before the lascivious feelings swamping her under the unmitigated mastery and heavy, sexual weight of her spouse.
Lucius loosened his grasp on her little hardened berry and ran his fingers down past her stomach into her fleecy thatch, feeling for her arousal. When his finger slid past her clit, she bucked up so hard, he was tossed up in the air for a brief second, coming back down on her straining body as she clawed his shoulders in her mindless search for completion. His index finger found her drenched entrance and he pressed it inside earning a drawn-out moan of encouragement. He inserted another finger and a third, trying to prepare her for his size, but she wasn’t interested in waiting.
Hermione grasped a handful of Lucius’ hair and tugged, “Deeper – more - harder…all of you…all…please,” her voice went soft and her words incoherent as she kissed anywhere she could reach. Their phrenic connection was working on Hermione’s mind as it was engulfed in Lucius’ singularly salacious emotions.
Lucius disentangled her little fingers from his hair and rose up on his elbows, using one hand to guide himself to her weeping silken channel. He needed to stay in control and not witlessly jam himself inside without care. But Gods, it was almost more than he could do to hold himself back from that wet heavenly, tight sheath of hers, his emotions being in turn enhanced by the fervid subliminal entreaties of his wife’s mind. He guided himself to her entrance, circling his glans on her to increase the moisture on his cock, hoping to help relieve the initial gliding motion.
Hermione was trying to impale herself, but he couldn’t let her hurt her body that way, so he lifted his penis away briefly and got a scathing epithet for his troubles. “I am master here, not you. I will do this my way or not at all,” he growled. Oh Sweet Goddess, there is NO way I can quit now, he groaned to himself, but he waited for her pouting compliance as she subsided under him, contenting herself with licking his chest and trying to suck one of his nipples into her hot, greedy little mouth.
In one of his increasingly rare moments of lucidity, Lucius recognized his wife was going to be a treasure in bed if he could stay undamaged long enough to initiate her into his bed sport. His scored back, his smashed cock, his pulled hair, and now his gnawed male nipple were all becoming victims of her insatiable begging for his carnal possession and he was at the end of his sexual rope. He was throbbing so badly he wasn’t sure he could make it completely inside her before he blew his seed all the way to Scotland. The little witch was a virgin, for Merlin’s sake, and she was playing him like a pro. Well, he would just see if she truly WAS a virgin.
“Gods, you’re wet, tidbit, I want to bury my entire length in you up to my eyebrows,” Lucius purred as he hooked his legs over hers to keep her from bucking up again and wresting control away from his fast-disappearing discipline. He centered himself over her dewy passage and began the journey of making her his wife and taking her virginity. Lucius eased himself into Hermione millimeter by millimeter, careful not to tear her delicate skin, but pushing slowly, relentlessly inside while she made little mewling sounds, first of want then of distress. But Lucius couldn’t stop any more than he could cure the world of Muggles and taking his wife was now the only thing he ever wanted to accomplish in life, staring down at her pleading brown eyes filling with tears of mingled desire and pain.
She never tried to stop him even though he could see his ingress was hurting her now. “Lucius,” was all she whispered, and instead of tightening her channel she relaxed all she could in the face of his oversize penetration, stroking his biceps, then digging into them with her nails as he forged deeper into her tight recess.
One more body part mauled in the name of sex, Lucius mourned as her nails broke his skin in a few places. But he was beyond caring in the grip of her hot, narrow cavern as he found her maidenhead and stalled a few seconds.
“Please, Lucius,” was all she said, and felt him tense for breeching her.
Lucius gathered his muscles and thrust strongly, breaking her thin veil and delving farther into her core. At her smothered cry, he lowered his face and licked her tears murmuring, “That’s the worst, tidbit. It will never be like that again. I promise.” He held still in her passage, allowing her to get used to his invasion for a few moments, chanting his pride and delight for her bravery in a low voice that vibrated more than sounded in her ear while she breathed out the pain and learned her spouse’s fullness within herself.
All too soon, his little bride started wiggling, wanting to pursue this new use for her body and Lucius was only too keen to accommodate her, retreating a bit, then sliding in farther and farther until he was seated as deeply as he could be, actually discovering her body fit his perfectly, snugly warm and very tight but taking his length wholly. Were all Mudbloods built that way? Maybe he’d missed something by being so narrow-minded. Intoning a silent prayer of thanks, Lucius began to move, establishing a slow rhythm at first, but picking up his pace as Hermione studied his movements and mirrored them.
They both drifted in an ecstatic emotional trance, reveling in each other’s bodies while maintaining glazed eye contact. They each drank in their mate’s visage as though they’d never seen each other before and perhaps they hadn’t truly seen each other before as newly-bound, lifelong mates connected now both mentally and physically.
Hermione felt as though she were building to an explosion and tried to make Lucius stop, but her husband was more savvy than she, and he kept their rhythm even, driving deep with each heavy thrust, hitting her clit with his pelvis at each lunge of his overheated staff. Hermione suddenly went rigid and then she screamed a loud, long, high-pitched note before crumpling under Lucius. He rode her even more fiercely for several more thrusts and then he too went rigid, bellowing his climax and driving himself all the way into her in ecstasy.
When he could think again, he realized his eardrums had just been added to his litany of misused body parts. It was just as well there was no glass nearby to shatter. Her screams could cure the deaf. Lucius indulged in a moment of exultant pride, but he decided next time he would stop her mouth with his own. He really did need his hearing.
He looked down at his little tidbit of a wife and saw she was already asleep from the exhaustion of a long, eventful day and her initiation into womanhood. Lucius withdrew from her body and put them both under the covers, sliding into sleep himself before he quite knew it, his eardrums still ringing.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The wailing of the two infants drowned out Ron’s first remark, so he repeated it while lifting one of his new baby sons and jiggling him on his shoulder in an attempt to at least stop the stereo effect of the babies’ cries. “Didn’t you find any clues? There was nothing in her home to tell you where she went?”
Harry gave up trying to speak over the other infant’s upset and lifted the second little one onto his shoulder, mimicking his friend Ron’s actions. Both children stopped crying for a blessed moment. “Damn, Ron, couldn’t you have been satisfied with just one of these?” Harry grinned, ragging on Ron’s brand new fatherhood.
“Shut it, Harry. You know twins run in our family. Maybe you should start thinking in terms of double prams yourself, mate. Come on then, I think you’re just trying to avoid my question.”
Harry grew more somber, “No, I found absolutely nothing at all. It’s as though she disappeared into nothingness. I’ve asked at the Ministry. Her boss is a petty little Napoleon type with his tiny fiefdom department, but I don’t think he has any real idea where she’s gone or why. No one in her department seems to know why she hasn’t reported to work. But something doesn’t feel right. There were a few odd looks aimed at me while I was there and I don’t think it’s because of my own past.
“I’m going over to talk to her parents first and then search her home again. After that I’m going to go higher in the Ministry. I’ll be filing a missing persons report with the Aurors if her parents have nothing new to tell me.”
“I’d help, Harry, you know I would, but Lavender’s still a little under the weather from the twins’ births and mum can’t help for another week. She’s still in Rumania with Charlie and his wife, helping out with their new baby girl.”
“Don’t worry Ron, I can do the footwork. You take care of Lavender and your boys. Ginny can help me if I need anyone.”
“That reminds me,” Ron said, “Tell Ginny she promised to come over and help me take care of her new nephews tomorrow. I need her here by one o’clock so Lavender can go in for a checkup.” Ron grinned, “the both of you will be quite experienced at babies by the time your own come along. You and Ginny need to quit practicing and make a start. You’ve been married two years now. Plenty of time to get over being newlyweds.”
Harry laughed, “I don’t know why we need to add more babies at all, Ron - you’re cornering the market.”
“Well these sprouts will need playmates.” Ron laid his son down in his cot, the baby having finally fallen asleep. “Whatever I can do to help, though, Harry. You let me know. This isn’t like Hermione at all. Something’s terribly wrong.”
“Yeah, I know. We’ll find her Ron. I know we will.” Harry looked down at his tiny nephew on his shoulder and smiled. This one had fallen asleep too. “Hermione is missing out on each day of these little guys’ lives. If someone has done anything to hurt her, I hope they like crucios.”
tbc...
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A/N: I thought about adjusting my story to meet the new canon of DH, but upon reflection, I'm going to leave most of it the way I wrote the story before the seventh book came out. Too many of the changes would hinge on elements of the story that have unfortunately already been introduced, making it impossible for me to reroute events. So there may be minor things adjusted to fit DH but mostly I'm sticking with this alternate universe story. Apologies to MB 3 for my warning of possible spoilers. They may still occur, but the incidence will be minimal. This is now more to cover my potential transgressions, than to alert to any major spoilers.
Now for the good stuff - for me. I hope you liked the lemon. (clearing away leftover drool rags) Please let me know in excruciating detail how it met your expectations. More lemons next chapter.
.
.
Updated 8-9-07
Your reviews are spectacular. I'm showing my appreciation by passing out drool rags for everyone for your convenience (and so I don't get thrown out of AFF for a story which leaks liquid onto other authors' contributions). You have a choice of pink, yellow, or blue. There's plenty for everyone, but please be sure to take one. We've got a heavy duty lemon coming up.
To HeatherDew Snape will appear a little later. And Amanda Rose, consider this AU fanfiction for book seven.
Shiloh Answers for Ron and Harry now available...
I don't think Hermione and Lucius will be playing checkers tonight...
______________________________________________________
Chapter Ten
Wedding Night
Hermione ran a small drying spell over her hair, happy to see that apparently her magic was not as constricted in this little apartment as it was in their cell. With her locks fluffed up in their normal – thank the Gods, clean – curls, she concentrated on the bed. Should she get in and cover up with the bedcover? Or would that be too missish, earning her Lucius’ scorn for her timid approach to sex? Well, so what!?! she decided. It WAS her first time and she WAS a little timid. Lucius could live with it. Hermione scurried over to the side of the bed, sat down and slid the covers over her lap, holding them to her chest just as her handsome husband walked out of the bathroom drying his own hair with the towel, obscuring his face.
Saint Guinevere’s Girdle! Hermione was shocked at her first good look at Lucius’ thick male weapon. It swung as he walked, bumping sideways over his large smooth sac, absolutely mesmerizing her into a terrified trance. It looked so utterly foreign and long and intimidatingly masculine. Had that been what she’d touched when she’d been feeling him up in the shower? It had felt fatter and even longer. Hermione blushed to the roots of her curly hair. Seeing it in the flesh, so to speak, was quite an education. The head or whatever it was called clinically, actually fell well below his testicles and they were impressive. Hermione began to rethink her euphoria at sleeping with this potent vision of unadorned, strolling male sex. If it truly swelled as much as she’d felt, she was in big trouble.
At that moment Lucius dropped the towel from his hair and saw Hermione’s goggle-eyed stare at his personal treasures. He had been mentally drifting into his prospective existence as a husband, thinking about his life and his marriage to a Muggleborn, and his immediate sexual excitement had waned as the distant future became more real. But when he had dropped the towel from his hair and was confronted with the reality of his new wife again, the distant future receded to be replaced by the present and the revival of his overpowering, poignant, fierce attraction to his petite spouse. Vague disquiet colored his urgent responsiveness to this tiny bewitching wife of his, but his hormones shouted down his hesitation as he moved toward the side of the bed where an awestruck Hermione sat waiting with trepidation.
He was irresistibly drawn to her, this little intelligent, fierce spitfire of a witch and his attraction hadn’t changed from the first moment she’d been tossed into his cell. He’d met her before, of course, as an adversary in their political skirmishes and ultimately in their opposite stances on the future of the magic world. He’d been knocked out of the fighting with his first episode of incarceration in Azkaban after the Department of Mysteries debacle, but his re-emergence into the aftermath of the fray after his release had taught him to be much more careful in his activities.
He’d been right to be wary because even though Voldemort had gone down to defeat against the Light, the witch and wizard hunt afterward had ultimately sent him back to Azkaban again. Lucius knew he’d been railroaded by the Ministry who had wanted him in prison on principle, so Lucius had been clothed in stripes again after lengthy legal foot dragging. He often ruminated on the irony of the situation; he had usually done most of the railroading before. However, for his second incarceration Lucius had been more prepared for his stay on the North Sea rock. What he hadn’t been prepared for was Hermione.
Lucius came to stand at the side of the bed and stood facing her, amusing himself with her wide-eyed focus on his lengthening, hardening cock. He was aroused by her stare and it was showing in no-nonsense terms in his groin. In seconds he was fully engorged and his appendage was displayed in all its ruddy splendor.
“I imagine you would like to have those ‘sores’ removed?” Without waiting for her reply he removed the covers she’d been shielding herself with, lightly ran his hands over all the infected areas and watched the spots fade to nothing.
Hermione, entranced, never lost sight of that amazing male appendage. It was so fascinating she barely heard Lucius’ remarks about her spots and only reacted to his light touch with a ticklish wiggle. She was firmly focused on the pulsing vein threading from near the tip of his member down to his groin. She had never seen anything like it and couldn’t peel her eyes from the exotic maleness of him.
Lucius reached down with his finger, first lightly pressing under the little witch’s chin to close her awestruck mouth and then grabbing up Hermione’s hand in his. He drew it to his member and wrapped her limp fingers around himself, giving her a quick demonstration of how he liked to be touched. “Here… and especially here,” his own fingers taught hers how to touch and stroke the sensitive underside of his glans and the area under his sac. “Yessss,” he hissed as Hermione proved she was a very fast learner.
Hermione was so close to this amazing part of her husband she could have leaned forward and kissed it – action followed thought a split second later and she did. Right on the tip. Two large, guiding hands immediately slid into her hair, keeping her face against his organ which was twitching with need, silently begging for more caresses from her soft lips. Hermione tentatively poked her tongue out and licked the end eliciting a fierce groan of satisfaction from a totally enthralled Lucius.
She was encouraged by his deep murmuring voice spurring her on between involuntary moans as she explored the surface of her mate’s penis from tip to root. It was velvety yet firm and she loved knowing Lucius was enslaved by her tongue’s meandering slide down his length. She peeked up at his face and saw him staring down at her progress, but his beautiful arctic eyes were glazed over, hypnotized, viewing his tiny wife’s oral stimulation with a fixed stare. Oh, yes, this was the way to make him a besotted, drooling captive although she hadn’t envisioned the drool as coming from the tip of his penis. The books hadn’t mentioned that.
With a shameless surge of female power over her handsome husband, Hermione dared more. She ran her fingers up the swollen organ, holding his massive tool pointing up by firmly squeezing the shaft, and opened her mouth over his sac, sucking half of it into the warm moist interior behind her lips and batting the round testicle gently, playfully. Lucius’ inarticulate hiss and his sudden clutching hands in her hair told her she had done something just right and she repeated her attentions to his other side, rubbing the special spot behind his testes that Lucius had shown her. Suddenly she was airborne as Lucius disengaged her torturing tongue and fingers and scooped her up in his arms, flinging her onto the bedcover and coming down on top of her.
“You learn entirely too quickly,” Lucius remonstrated, opening his own lips over her breast and sucking as much of it into his mouth as he could. He needed a breather to recover his control as he paid back her impish attentions to his balls by flicking his tongue over one tender, tight nipple with fast, firm strokes and applying a pinching finger and thumb to her other crest, making her keen with unbridled rapture at the doubled sensations that were so new to her untried body.
Hermione didn’t know she was frantically drumming her heels on the mattress as she in turn slid her fingers into Lucius’ hair and held him in place on her breast. She wanted him pressing down on her more and more, she couldn’t get enough of his engorged penis grinding against her most needy spot, “Show me, Lucius. I want you, now, now, now! Please, Lucius,” Hermione was so wound up she was beginning to cry softly, begging him brokenly to drive his body into hers. All fear fled before the lascivious feelings swamping her under the unmitigated mastery and heavy, sexual weight of her spouse.
Lucius loosened his grasp on her little hardened berry and ran his fingers down past her stomach into her fleecy thatch, feeling for her arousal. When his finger slid past her clit, she bucked up so hard, he was tossed up in the air for a brief second, coming back down on her straining body as she clawed his shoulders in her mindless search for completion. His index finger found her drenched entrance and he pressed it inside earning a drawn-out moan of encouragement. He inserted another finger and a third, trying to prepare her for his size, but she wasn’t interested in waiting.
Hermione grasped a handful of Lucius’ hair and tugged, “Deeper – more - harder…all of you…all…please,” her voice went soft and her words incoherent as she kissed anywhere she could reach. Their phrenic connection was working on Hermione’s mind as it was engulfed in Lucius’ singularly salacious emotions.
Lucius disentangled her little fingers from his hair and rose up on his elbows, using one hand to guide himself to her weeping silken channel. He needed to stay in control and not witlessly jam himself inside without care. But Gods, it was almost more than he could do to hold himself back from that wet heavenly, tight sheath of hers, his emotions being in turn enhanced by the fervid subliminal entreaties of his wife’s mind. He guided himself to her entrance, circling his glans on her to increase the moisture on his cock, hoping to help relieve the initial gliding motion.
Hermione was trying to impale herself, but he couldn’t let her hurt her body that way, so he lifted his penis away briefly and got a scathing epithet for his troubles. “I am master here, not you. I will do this my way or not at all,” he growled. Oh Sweet Goddess, there is NO way I can quit now, he groaned to himself, but he waited for her pouting compliance as she subsided under him, contenting herself with licking his chest and trying to suck one of his nipples into her hot, greedy little mouth.
In one of his increasingly rare moments of lucidity, Lucius recognized his wife was going to be a treasure in bed if he could stay undamaged long enough to initiate her into his bed sport. His scored back, his smashed cock, his pulled hair, and now his gnawed male nipple were all becoming victims of her insatiable begging for his carnal possession and he was at the end of his sexual rope. He was throbbing so badly he wasn’t sure he could make it completely inside her before he blew his seed all the way to Scotland. The little witch was a virgin, for Merlin’s sake, and she was playing him like a pro. Well, he would just see if she truly WAS a virgin.
“Gods, you’re wet, tidbit, I want to bury my entire length in you up to my eyebrows,” Lucius purred as he hooked his legs over hers to keep her from bucking up again and wresting control away from his fast-disappearing discipline. He centered himself over her dewy passage and began the journey of making her his wife and taking her virginity. Lucius eased himself into Hermione millimeter by millimeter, careful not to tear her delicate skin, but pushing slowly, relentlessly inside while she made little mewling sounds, first of want then of distress. But Lucius couldn’t stop any more than he could cure the world of Muggles and taking his wife was now the only thing he ever wanted to accomplish in life, staring down at her pleading brown eyes filling with tears of mingled desire and pain.
She never tried to stop him even though he could see his ingress was hurting her now. “Lucius,” was all she whispered, and instead of tightening her channel she relaxed all she could in the face of his oversize penetration, stroking his biceps, then digging into them with her nails as he forged deeper into her tight recess.
One more body part mauled in the name of sex, Lucius mourned as her nails broke his skin in a few places. But he was beyond caring in the grip of her hot, narrow cavern as he found her maidenhead and stalled a few seconds.
“Please, Lucius,” was all she said, and felt him tense for breeching her.
Lucius gathered his muscles and thrust strongly, breaking her thin veil and delving farther into her core. At her smothered cry, he lowered his face and licked her tears murmuring, “That’s the worst, tidbit. It will never be like that again. I promise.” He held still in her passage, allowing her to get used to his invasion for a few moments, chanting his pride and delight for her bravery in a low voice that vibrated more than sounded in her ear while she breathed out the pain and learned her spouse’s fullness within herself.
All too soon, his little bride started wiggling, wanting to pursue this new use for her body and Lucius was only too keen to accommodate her, retreating a bit, then sliding in farther and farther until he was seated as deeply as he could be, actually discovering her body fit his perfectly, snugly warm and very tight but taking his length wholly. Were all Mudbloods built that way? Maybe he’d missed something by being so narrow-minded. Intoning a silent prayer of thanks, Lucius began to move, establishing a slow rhythm at first, but picking up his pace as Hermione studied his movements and mirrored them.
They both drifted in an ecstatic emotional trance, reveling in each other’s bodies while maintaining glazed eye contact. They each drank in their mate’s visage as though they’d never seen each other before and perhaps they hadn’t truly seen each other before as newly-bound, lifelong mates connected now both mentally and physically.
Hermione felt as though she were building to an explosion and tried to make Lucius stop, but her husband was more savvy than she, and he kept their rhythm even, driving deep with each heavy thrust, hitting her clit with his pelvis at each lunge of his overheated staff. Hermione suddenly went rigid and then she screamed a loud, long, high-pitched note before crumpling under Lucius. He rode her even more fiercely for several more thrusts and then he too went rigid, bellowing his climax and driving himself all the way into her in ecstasy.
When he could think again, he realized his eardrums had just been added to his litany of misused body parts. It was just as well there was no glass nearby to shatter. Her screams could cure the deaf. Lucius indulged in a moment of exultant pride, but he decided next time he would stop her mouth with his own. He really did need his hearing.
He looked down at his little tidbit of a wife and saw she was already asleep from the exhaustion of a long, eventful day and her initiation into womanhood. Lucius withdrew from her body and put them both under the covers, sliding into sleep himself before he quite knew it, his eardrums still ringing.
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The wailing of the two infants drowned out Ron’s first remark, so he repeated it while lifting one of his new baby sons and jiggling him on his shoulder in an attempt to at least stop the stereo effect of the babies’ cries. “Didn’t you find any clues? There was nothing in her home to tell you where she went?”
Harry gave up trying to speak over the other infant’s upset and lifted the second little one onto his shoulder, mimicking his friend Ron’s actions. Both children stopped crying for a blessed moment. “Damn, Ron, couldn’t you have been satisfied with just one of these?” Harry grinned, ragging on Ron’s brand new fatherhood.
“Shut it, Harry. You know twins run in our family. Maybe you should start thinking in terms of double prams yourself, mate. Come on then, I think you’re just trying to avoid my question.”
Harry grew more somber, “No, I found absolutely nothing at all. It’s as though she disappeared into nothingness. I’ve asked at the Ministry. Her boss is a petty little Napoleon type with his tiny fiefdom department, but I don’t think he has any real idea where she’s gone or why. No one in her department seems to know why she hasn’t reported to work. But something doesn’t feel right. There were a few odd looks aimed at me while I was there and I don’t think it’s because of my own past.
“I’m going over to talk to her parents first and then search her home again. After that I’m going to go higher in the Ministry. I’ll be filing a missing persons report with the Aurors if her parents have nothing new to tell me.”
“I’d help, Harry, you know I would, but Lavender’s still a little under the weather from the twins’ births and mum can’t help for another week. She’s still in Rumania with Charlie and his wife, helping out with their new baby girl.”
“Don’t worry Ron, I can do the footwork. You take care of Lavender and your boys. Ginny can help me if I need anyone.”
“That reminds me,” Ron said, “Tell Ginny she promised to come over and help me take care of her new nephews tomorrow. I need her here by one o’clock so Lavender can go in for a checkup.” Ron grinned, “the both of you will be quite experienced at babies by the time your own come along. You and Ginny need to quit practicing and make a start. You’ve been married two years now. Plenty of time to get over being newlyweds.”
Harry laughed, “I don’t know why we need to add more babies at all, Ron - you’re cornering the market.”
“Well these sprouts will need playmates.” Ron laid his son down in his cot, the baby having finally fallen asleep. “Whatever I can do to help, though, Harry. You let me know. This isn’t like Hermione at all. Something’s terribly wrong.”
“Yeah, I know. We’ll find her Ron. I know we will.” Harry looked down at his tiny nephew on his shoulder and smiled. This one had fallen asleep too. “Hermione is missing out on each day of these little guys’ lives. If someone has done anything to hurt her, I hope they like crucios.”
tbc...
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A/N: I thought about adjusting my story to meet the new canon of DH, but upon reflection, I'm going to leave most of it the way I wrote the story before the seventh book came out. Too many of the changes would hinge on elements of the story that have unfortunately already been introduced, making it impossible for me to reroute events. So there may be minor things adjusted to fit DH but mostly I'm sticking with this alternate universe story. Apologies to MB 3 for my warning of possible spoilers. They may still occur, but the incidence will be minimal. This is now more to cover my potential transgressions, than to alert to any major spoilers.
Now for the good stuff - for me. I hope you liked the lemon. (clearing away leftover drool rags) Please let me know in excruciating detail how it met your expectations. More lemons next chapter.
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