Prisoners of Love - A Mystery - COMPLETE

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Updated 8-14-07

Hurray! Authors can go back and do minor (and major) editing now without the story automatically jumping to the top of the stack. I have numerous eensy, beensy, teensy items I've been dying to fix. I have an anal retentive streak as wide as the English Channel and I feel liberated!


What does this mean to all you readers? Umm, not much perhaps, except that we authors can now happily fix spelling errors, punctuation gaffes, and syntax problems, increasing the quality of the stories we offer you. Okay, I'll put my palm branch down now.


I apologize to all of you who hadn't stocked up on batteries before the last chapter hit. I do hope you've gone to the store by now, because this chapter has more smut. Forgive me, I couldn't help myself. Making Lucius perform in bed - and elsewhere - is one of the joys of my life. (perverted grin is hastily smothered)


Thank you all so much for giving me the feedback on your reactions. Actually they were pretty uniform. No one asked me to gloss over the next sex scene so here it is...


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Chapter Eleven

Bite Me

“Yeow!” Lucius came up out of a steamy dream where he was just about to dive nose first into a little brown nest of tantalizingly fragrant curls…to someone screaming. He closed his mouth and realized… it was him! A dull throbbing in his backside caught him by surprise. What the fuck? His hand slid down to inspect the damage to his rear.

“Bloody hell!” His butt HURT and his hand came away moist. “Tidbit? Tidbit?” Hermione wasn’t next to him on the bed, but a suspicious wriggling lump was hovering next to his bum under the covers. “Hermione Granger Malfoy – is that you under there? And perchance did you just bite me on the ass?” Lucius threw the covers off them both and looked down at a little sprite with her curls all tousled and a mischievous smile etched brightly on her face.

“Was there some reason for this unprovoked attack on my person?” Lucius was still trying to wake up fully as he massaged the offended bit of anatomy.

“I wanted to, so I did!” Hermione looked adorably mulish.

Lucius couldn’t decide if he was angry or aroused. His bum hurt, but the pain wasn’t exactly wilting his morning erection. Quite the opposite, in fact. He felt so engorged he wanted to ram himself into his little wife’s sheath until they both screamed.

“You wanted to, so you did?” Lucius rolled onto his side facing his tiny tormentor, bending his elbow and leaning his head on his hand. He didn’t particularly want to sit up on those bite marks just at the moment. “What kind of reason is that? And why is my butt all wet?”

His hair was mildly tangled and Hermione decided she liked Lucius a little messy-looking with a slight, pale morning beard. She wanted to bite his butt again.

He saw her eyes wander back down to his posterior and warned, “Don’t even draw a breath to think about it. You’ve had your butt-bite for the day.”

Hermione pouted at being thwarted, “I’ve wanted to bite your bum since the day I was thrown into our cell. It’s…well, I can’t explain why ‘cause I don’t KNOW why, do I? Maybe it was like Mount Everest. I bit it because it was there.” Hermione crossed her arms over her bare breasts in defiance. Why should she have to explain a simple bite on her own husband’s butt? He’d done plenty to her last night. “And so maybe I licked it a few times, too.”

“I think I’m going to have a bruise,” Lucius complained and seeing her lean forward quickly added, “And no trying to kiss it and make it better. I don’t trust you now.” His eyebrow rose in a condescending arc as he asked with a quizzical twist of his lips, trying not to chuckle at her intransigent attitude, “Is the urge gone yet, or do I have to defend myself from further forays of your ferocious fangs?”

“Impressive alliteration,” Hermione dimpled, “but I wasn’t aiming for your butt. I was reaching for this,” she said triumphantly, squeezing an already impressive erection and making Lucius gasp in appreciation.

“Before we…uhm…oh, sweet hell!...venture into any other activities…” Lucius’ voice stalled as a stab of pleasure at the electric sensations traveling up into his groin tightened all his muscles to an aching throb. It was another minute or so before he was able to uncross his eyes and return to the subject of the protection of his private body parts.

“There isn’t anything ELSE you have the overwhelming desire to bite, is there? Because some things are off limits to teeth, no matter how overcome you are by your impulses.” He glowered in mock intimidation trying to use the mesmerizing force of his arctic eyes to press home his point and wishing that the damned things wouldn’t keep closing in reaction to his wife’s still amateur but quite acceptable hand job.

Hermione continued to squeeze and rub her hand up and down the velvety shaft, circling his sac and sliding back up the column of flesh, “No, nothing else. Maybe some suuuuccckkking,” she chanted, licking her lips lasciviously and staring at the truly glorious, thick manhood in her hand.

“Were you waiting for an invitation? Should I tie a pretty blue bow on it?” Lucius unfairly asked, having just gently blasted her for using her mouth in a manner he didn’t approve of.

Hermione narrowed her bright brown eyes and offered a snippy rejoinder as she rubbed behind his balls shooting his nether nerve endings into the first level of paradise, “Nooo, I was waiting for you to beg me.” More ball rubbing. “Beg me, Lucius,” she crooned, a little naked temptress with magic hands, “beg me to cover your HARD, THICK cock with my MOIST, WARM lips so you can feel me run my wet tongue around the head,” she pinched the plush tip, “and flick the underside, just the way you liked it last night.”

One icy eye opened on his wicked spouse, then he surrendered unconditionally, rolled onto his back and said, “Consider yourself begged. Suck me again, tidbit. Please? But no teeth!”

Hermione’s mouth opened over the head of Lucius’ by now painful erection and he felt her hot oral cavity envelop his glans, her little tongue using the most unbearably arousing flicking motion just underneath the cap.

“Sweet Circe, you’re so good at that… Oh!... hell’s bells, faster, yes, yesss……” Lucius’ low voice became a long litany of moans and pleas, escalating with each swipe of his wife’s tongue until she simultaneously squeezed the shaft and made a strong vacuum on the tip at the same time. His hands, which had been eagerly guiding her hot mouth around his equipment, now desperately grabbed onto the sheets, trying to put off the inevitable, but he’d let her go too far in his greedy sexual delirium. He reached toward her curly head again and weakly tried to make her let go so he could come, but she pushed his hands away and sucked harder.

“Tidbit…, I want…I want… oh Gods!...I want to come – sweetheart, let go,” he said in agony, his hips twisting out of his control and his heels scrabbling on the sheets. He saw her shake her head and twist her own head as she propelled more of his cock into her mouth. “That’s…no, I can’t… Oh, shite!” Lucius’ hard body shuddered and went rigid, then his butt muscles tightened, throwing his lovingly abused cock upward toward its reward and he spewed his cum helplessly into his new bride’s waiting mouth.

Hermione swallowed all she could, only relaxing her hold when her husband slumped down onto the mattress, breathing erratically but smiling rather sappily at her in his exhaustion.

“Tidbit,” Lucius murmured after a few minutes of boneless, satisfied contentment, “you didn’t have to do that. Why?” He stroked her curls absently, enjoying her little petting motions as she smoothed the baby fine flaxen hairs on his thighs.

She gave him a direct look, “I wanted to, so I did.” Her determined attitude reappeared, not quite concealed behind her sudden grin.

He regarded her sleepily for a moment, then said, “I must admit that phrase is starting to grow on me. Are there any other little adventures you have been ‘wanting to do’?”

Her smile turned a little secretive, “You’d be surprised.”

At that point Lucius wanted to iterate his injunction against roving teeth but his eyelids suddenly drooped without his permission and he crashed, leaving his wife to watch his chest rise and fall in slumber. When she realized he was out for awhile, she got up and spent some time in the bathroom, enjoying the soap and her new toothbrush and paste. And most of all, the warm water.

She returned after a lengthy sybaritic shower, to find Lucius just lazing on the bed, arms folded behind his head. He saw her wet hair and wondered without much hope, “Is there any hot water left for my shower? That’s a lot of steam fogging up the bathroom.”

“I’m sure there’ll be more in a little while. After four months, I would have thought any shower would be cause for gratitude. Besides, I needed to shave my legs.” Hermione waltzed over to where Lucius had placed her size zero prison suit and began dressing.

“Tidbit, you could have shaved the legs of the entire Slytherin Quidditch team with the time you took. And I suppose you used my razor for your legs? Never mind.” He sighed, “Ah, well, you’re right, any shower is better than none.” He hadn’t done too well in the small shower with her the night before, so he preferred to go it alone this morning.

Lucius had had some time during her never-ending shower to contemplate his nearly miraculous blowjob. “Hermione,” Lucius asked as he came lithely up off the bed, “I very much enjoyed your early morning enthusiasm, well, except for the bite, but was there another reason for you directing the sex in that manner?”

Hermione shrugged, facing away from her too perspicacious husband.

“Hermione? Are you sore? Were you afraid to make love again with me inside you?” Lucius came up behind his bride and settled his hands around her neck, slowly dragging them from her nape down her shoulders and arms, reaching for her hands and twining his fingers through hers. “Tidbit?”

Hermione leaned back against a solid, warm chest and sighed, “I wanted to do everything I did, don’t think I didn’t. But, yes, I was a little sore and wanted to put off any more regular sex.” She turned to face him, her eyes smiling up at her astute, blond mate, “but the shower helped quite a lot.”

“Trust me, it won’t hurt like that again. I made it good for you at the end, but your body needed to adjust to mine and you’re so tiny, I know it was difficult. And overnight, your muscles probably became more sore.” He smiled, “In the circumstances, I forgive you for taking all the warm water. This morning was quite amazing. You may have missed your calling, working in that fusty, old Ministry.”

Hermione knit her delicate eyebrows, scowling at her husband’s inconsiderate remark. “And what calling would that be, Mr. Death Eater?”

Lucius leaned over and whispered in his wife’s delicate pink ear, “Snake charmer!” He quickly stepped back to avoid her left elbow, and then strolled into the bathroom to take his cold shower.

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For the following two weeks, Lucius and Hermione behaved like normal newlyweds, lost in lust, spending hours upon hours in their cots, which they had dragged together, but first, they made certain that the small opening in their door through which Jax had peeped was obscured, with Warden le Fay’s blessing.

The new couple delighted in each other, Hermione reveling in her joyous new world of sex taught by an acknowledged master, and Lucius reveling in Hermione’s joy, experiencing old pleasures through new eyes as he taught her several erotic nuances he’d learned over many years. Their mind link subtly augmented the lovemaking, delicately heightening what was already nearly a surfeit of sexual satisfaction.

They were well matched both carnally and physically, with Hermione’s youth and Lucius’ obsession with fitness, so there was rarely a time that one didn’t want what the other did. Lucius discovered that Hermione did indeed have more adventures she wanted to explore and he was quite happy to accommodate her as her demands grew more and more sophisticated, until her sexual interests nearly matched his own. One or two of his more exotic interests had to be introduced deftly, but on the whole the two lovers meshed amazingly.

As the days wore on, they also continued to find more similarities of mind between them and they each constantly challenged the other’s intellect with more of their own special brands of expertise; the sheer volume of knowledge passing between them would have felled a mountain troll if it had a brain to fill. They were alike in so many ways it was almost uncanny, these two quick-witted, forceful personalities.

Lucius loved numbers and had devoured the subject. He discovered that Hermione had a flair for numbers herself, although he far outshone her, having spent many years with his financial empire, accounts, and estate dealings.

He had also achieved one of the youngest N.E.W.T.s in Arithmancy ever given at Hogwarts, so her superb ability in Arithmancy was as electrifying to him as one of her increasingly expert blowjobs. They spent hours arguing some of the more arcane theories of the field, lighting fires of contention between them when they disagreed, especially as Lucius had the idea that Hermione should yield to his greater knowledge instead of gainsaying him on some of his pet theorems. But their arguments usually ended in fierce sex so neither of them came away truly angry with the other.

Hermione, in turn learned that Lucius was well-versed in botany, being responsible for his vast estate, most of which was planted with rare and expensive flora, and he knew a thing or two about potions, especially anything herbal in nature. They each gobbled up the knowledge in the other’s brain voraciously whenever the excitements of their double cot momentarily dimmed from excess use.

Lucius continued sporadically to work on his digging projects, but the attractions of his wife slowed his progress to a crawl. The Warden had been alert enough to manage new soap, toilet paper and other renewables for all the prisoners, so life for the couple wasn’t as bleak as it had been before, although all too soon the supplies began to dwindle again, slowing to a trickle as the weeks went by.

Those first heady days of marriage seduced Lucius into a fantasy world of the deepest pleasure he had ever known, both physical and mental. He wasn’t worried too much about Hermione’s tendency to claim equality. She would learn her place as his wife in due time when the sexual gratification he received wasn’t so endangered by her reluctance to concede his supremacy as her husband.

Hermione was also glorying in her new husband with a young woman’s intense desire for a magnificent male animal who shockingly had perhaps a better brain than she. She was put on her mettle as they clashed over ideas, compared their theories on innumerable subjects and in general, enjoyed a mutual euphoria of minds and bodies. Sometimes the blond wizard was a little pigheaded over her right to her opinions, but it was nothing she couldn’t deal with.

Occasionally their politics got heated, but Lucius was unwilling to put any strain on their happiness, so he finally refused to discuss the explosive differences of opinion they both still held. As far as he was concerned the Muggle world was still an excrescence to be avoided, but he didn’t extend his antipathy for her world to his delightful wife. He couldn’t.

One day, when they both had overindulged in the physical side of their marriage, and were lying idly side-by-side on their double cot, Lucius got back to something that continued to gnaw at his mind, “Hermione, do you have no ideas why you were imprisoned?” He probed, “no enemies, no ex-boyfriends, no involvement with fringe groups?” Even as he asked, it didn’t seem possible that the young, innocent female could have been involved in anything that would get her sent to Azkaban. “Exactly what happened at your trial?”

Hermione didn’t want to think about it but she acquiesced to her husband’s desire to understand her problems. “Three different people, none of whom I knew, testified that they had seen me entering offices in the Ministry after hours where the next day, it was found that several documents, I quote, “detrimental to our security” were stolen. The Magic Council couldn’t find any of the papers that were stolen and they decided to lock me up quickly before I had a chance to pass along the documents. Ridiculous! I hadn’t gone into any of those offices. Either all of the witnesses were lying or…” Hermione and Lucius looked at each other, saying simultaneously, “Polyjuice potion!”

Hermione slumped on their double cot leaning up against her dark wizard, “How can I defend myself against that? I can’t prove I was elsewhere, because I was mostly home alone at night and I don’t know exactly when I was seen anyway. I don’t know of any spell that can detect the presence of a person using Polyjuice potion, especially several days after the fact. Now several weeks. The trail is going cold and I can’t help myself. I was framed, but who would want to do that to me?”

Lucius was thinking, “Maybe it wasn’t really you personally they were targeting. They might just have wanted a convenient scapegoat. And innocent, naïve Hermione Granger who worked in the Ministry looked like a perfect dupe.”

“Hey! No need to be insulting!” Hermione pinched Lucius’ arm and shoved it prompting him to wrap the injured appendage behind her shoulders in sympathy and to get it out of her range.

“Now, now, none of that,” Lucius rubbed the arm holding her with his free hand. “I know we’ve discussed pinching.” A mock glare punctuated his remonstration, but his glares were never very effective as deterrents to Hermione’s penchant for pinching him in retaliation for unwelcome comments. “Have you ever had any accidents or narrow escapes from anything life-threatening while you were living in your Muggle cottage?”

Hermione thought for a few moments, “No, I don’t think so…”

“Then the threat is obviously coming from the magic community, not the Muggle world, especially if someone was using polyjuice potion.”

“If?” Hermione frowned at the insulting word.

“If they weren’t using some other way of disrupting the witnesses’ memories. There are several, you know. Or maybe you don’t. Never mind.” He cocked his head sideways, his mind sifting through some of the dark arts possibilities, feeling good that his wife was truly such a gift of innocence for him to protect. “I think someone either doesn’t like you very much or somehow you’re a liability to them. For what reason, I have no idea – yet.

“Or,” he continued, “perhaps there was something you knew without knowing it that made it imperative for the perpetrator to dispose of you quickly. If so, you can thank Hecate for your life. They might have just killed you.” Shudders went through both of them, but soon Lucius was analyzing the problem again. “I’m thinking your murder would have shone a spotlight on your job, so maybe murder didn’t suit them. What were you working on at the Ministry when you were jailed?”

“I’m just an apprentice Muggle envoy going between our worlds with low level contacts and duties. Ironically, I was assigned the boring task of Muggle supply inventories for all agencies of the Ministry, including such scintillating issues as toilet paper rolls for Ministry bathrooms – we get much of our paper products quietly from the Muggle side, did you know that?” Hermione shrugged artlessly, “Anyway, I suspect they just made up that job to keep me busy because I had voluntarily introduced a new plan for their rather archaic accounting and the higher ups didn’t like my ideas.”

Lucius raised a mocking eyebrow at her naïveté, “twisting the tails of the old guard, were you? Maybe someone had something to hide in that archaic system for keeping track of the Ministry’s money.”

She looked up at her husband, “Perhaps,” she said slowly, “it was both things. My work ideas AND those missing documents.” I never even knew what documents I was supposed to have stolen. I guess they figured I already knew, being the thief,” she said bitterly.

Lucius narrowed his wintry gray eyes in thought, “Well, I don’t know if the documents were just a blind to get you removed for some other reason we don’t know about, or the documents really had some incriminating information in them. Perhaps that should be the first thing Snape accomplishes when next he comes to see me. He can find out what documents went missing. There may be a clue to your incarceration in the subject of those papers.”

In the event, Snape didn’t appear for the next few weeks and in the end it wasn’t Snape who appeared, but Harry.

tbc...

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And so the plot thickens. Next chapter we get Harry. I hope you'll like it. Things are going to get decidedly murky.


Do you think Harry is going to welcome Hermione's new husband with one of his trademark grins and a clap on the back? No? Well, what do you think Harry's reaction will be? (Review link just below. Anonymous reviews accepted.) Oh yeah, and did you like the Smut-Part Two? Poor Lucius. I use him abominably.
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