With Good Intentions

“What were you and George speaking so earnestly of?”

“He thinks you have designs on me, to use a quaint phrase.”

Lucius leaned in the doorway of her room at the cottage as she packed. Having completed her schooling, no reason remained to “live” in the cottage with him anymore.

“And what do you think? Would you excuse me for a moment?…”

An owl pecking at the glass of the window caught his attention and he admitted it into the hallway. He returned too quickly to have read the post.

“Anything important?”

“Nothing that demands immediate attention. Now answer my question.”

“I think it’s been a challenging and lonely four years and that you’re not a man used to delayed gratification.”

“Anything else?”

“That you sneak out at night for relief and sweets?”

“Only for sweets. I have a present for you — nothing like what you deserve but something only I can give you.”

Turning, she caught sight of a man dressed only in a “quaint” pair of knee-length boxers. Out of its normal holster inside said boxers stood a magnificent specimen of versa humana, ready to play.

“That’s… quite romantic. No flowers?”

“We don’t play games with each other, Hermione. You’re not the sentimental type and neither am I, although I am quite the romantic. I’m offering you an opportunity to learn about yourself in a way I’m sure you haven’t and to begin my repayment of a debt I may never retire.”

“Not to mention you get to take care of that little ‘problem’ of yours without leaving the cottage.”

“There is that.”

“Slytherin prat.”

“I’ve heard you. In the bath. A few times when I passed your room late at night. Thank Merlin for small gifts. For the longest I worried you were frigid or a Daughter of Lesbos.”

Unseen muscles tightened and relaxed causing his rose-flushed member to bob and weave like a snake charmer’s pipe before her.

“You’ve taught me so much, little one. Let me teach you while we take pleasure in each other.”

She captured her bottom lip between her teeth, damning George for raising the topic in her head.

“If this is going to happen, I can’t get pregnant.”

“Pity. It would please me to get an heir on you.”

A bark of laughter punctuated the quiet.

“Still too much work to do to clear your name.”

“You can’t ‘clear’ my name as I did most of what I’m accused of. 

“Here or your room?”

“You really have no experience with this, do you, witch? Why the haste? Did you read any of the books I left out for you in the library?”

Any number of tomes lay throughout the library, most having some kind of sexual content.

“I thought you used them for… encouragement.”

“You in those muggle robes has kept me spouting gallons and gallons for your entire matriculation.”

He’d reached her, emptying her hands of the folded clothing.

“Come.”

In the guest bathroom he methodically removed her clothing, placing the lightest of touches on the revealed skin while he calmly explained how the nearly nonexistent touch would stimulate responses in other specific areas of her receptive body. Moving his hand before her face like a charlatan illusionist, he forced her eyes closed to focus every brain cell on experiencing the sensations of seduction. His touch started as her knickers departed, a platoon of fingers skimming the surface of her ankles, rising up the inside of her calf, knee and thigh and ending way too far from where she wanted that hand to go. Each sound she made — a moan, a sigh, a guttural grunt or a melodic groan — amused him to a chuckle. Standing eventually required a spell because her knees turned to jelly under his careful ministrations as he kept up a running commentary for the “sex education lecture”.

Because his hands directed so much of her brain, his position change to kneeling behind her came as a surprise and a boon. Lucius suckled from her like a babe, leaving warmth and color on the backs of her thighs, at the juncture of her thighs and bum and on the supple cheeks of her soft derriere. Gently kneading the pliant flesh had her swaying in motion to his rhythm of tighten and release. 

“You smell divine, lover.”

“Was that what you called Narcissa?”

“Would it bother you if I did so under similar circumstances?”

Possibly the grizzled wizard’s only pure act had been his love for his “Cissa”.

“Not really.”

“I believe you,” he replied loud enough to be heard over her moan, “because you’re still an atrocious liar outside of a courtroom, Ms. Gryffindor.”

A drawn out moan met his insult. Rhythmically, two of Lucius’ extended fingers pressed into and away from the lips hiding her secret places. Pressure alone brought a tightening and pulsing she associated with impending climax.

“You lied to me, Lucius,” she managed — her head thrown back and eyes fluttering to help her think, “this isn't romance, it’s pure Slytherin seduction.”

“There you’re wrong, young lady. No Slytherin ever pleasured a woman more thoroughly than Lucius Malfoy. And this style of ‘pleasure’ requires romance. As is your stated preference, you’re learning from the best.”

Twisting her entire body between his warm hands by her hips to get her on her back, Lucius leaned into the milk-chocolate thatch at her join and…

Inhaled.

Simply inhaled — 

— as if she were fresh air after years in a smoky, dust-choked coal shaft. To lay her hands in his silvering hair she had to look at him, staring at the man who knelt before her like a supplicant at an altar.

Thus distracted, she hissed in surprise when his tongue, stiff as any plank holding the cottage walls up, separated the flaps over her bud and licked her from the edge of her opening to the tip of swollen skin petaled around the flower within.

“Ah-ah! Lucius!” accompanied her head rocking back instinctively at the strength of the sensation.

“I take it you’ve never been pleasured in this manner before?”

“Slytherin prat.”

“Insults instead of praise. Hmmm… Shall I stop now?”

He forgave her when she begged, sweeping her up in his arms and carrying her to his bedroom and his bed.

“If you lie, I will know and I will cease today’s lesson. Are you a virgin?”

“Obviously not if you’ve been eavesdropping outside my chamber.”

“Has a man ever penetrated you — not with his fingers but with his cock?”

“No.”

He seemed to consider this for some time while his head ducked between her legs where she lay and returned to tasting her.

With lazy strokes and subtle pressure Lucius regained her state of hot and bothered quickly and brought her to climax, nearly losing his ears when her closing thighs reflexively sandwiched his head in a vise. Of the many virgins he’d “educated”, the only one who matched Narcissa’s pre-penetration response lay with him now.

“You gave me no warning that such a wonderful response lay so close to the surface.”

“Never,” she panted, “felt anything like it. Snuck up on me.”

“Good to know I’m better than your solo work.”

“Lucius?”

“Yes, little one?”

“Would you?… Could I?… Please?”

“Ready for another, my love?”

In the second guest room, a portrait smiled.