Beyond the Veil -- COMPLETE

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Updated 4-19-08

I’m so enjoying your reviews. Thank you all for spending time reading my story and giving me your reactions. I’m thinking over a few additions here and there further on based on some input from you, so I appreciate your feedback!


Some answers to questions and comments:

Lauriurix – thank you for delurking. I truly appreciate you reviewing my story. Lucius is definitely a stud-y in behavior.

meankitty69 – go ahead and caress. Lucius is all for that.

datoichii – Hmm, can you tell I’m partial to asses? I think it shines in most of my fics [grin].

sheherazade – Yes, Hermione is slow to understand the variations in sexual enjoyment that are standard in Lucius’ repertoire. I never thought about Lucius refraining from caning Draco. That was funny!

Heidi191976 – Thank you. More coming up.

gennastar – Lucius is a rich source of convoluted character behavior. He fascinates me no end.

vic – I’m glad you liked the Lucius solo interlude.

Tenar10r – Thanks! 8-)

baseballmomok – I love Regency romances, too. Which authors do you favor? I like Eloisa James, Mary Balogh, Mary Jo Putney, Loretta Chase, Carla Kelly to name just a few. I’m happy you like the story.

Clare1984 – Lucius usually gets to be both spanker and spankee in my stories. Something for everyone, I say. Hermione’s feelings are going to be mostly in her behind for a while, she won’t dwell on her dark side – much.

pittwitch – Yes, miscounting the swats might have been a bit of a miscalculation on Hermione’s part. Will Lucius be magnanimous? If knitting didn’t work out, there’s always crocheting.

Ravenna – Oops, the lemon was entirely our Lucius (hehe). No psychological change for Lucius – why tamper with perfection?

bluezauza – Yeah, I think I was giggling, too, when I wrote the description of Lucius ‘in his absolute prime’. Sigh…

sisterae – Lucius just talks to me as a character. I’m glad my rendition of him resonates with you. Especially his interaction with Hermione – their complex, reluctant relationship.

tambrathegreat – You’re entirely welcome. I like writing the juicy stuff. It mostly just rolls off my fingers. (I wonder what that says about me?)

Scary Bear Hair – So…you’d choose to be tied instead of tying down the blond wizard. Orrrrr, maybe you might venture into a bit of dom, huh? Hard to choose, isn’t it? I didn’t know de Sade was a switch. Interesting! Um, more suspense and UST I’m afraid. Sorry.

Utopia – I love words. Wallow in them, and writing lets all the little buggers running around in my head get some air time, otherwise I’m left with crossword puzzles which usually don’t include smut. I actually thought about including definitions here and there, but decided since people are using their computers, it would be easy for them to look up the words on thesaurus.com or dictionary.com. And cutting Lucius’ hair would have been waaay mean besides lessening his looks for Hermione’s delectation. She ain’t dumb. Lucius is a gentleman when it suits his purposes. A duck?! LOL Hermione used her wand and the spell ‘aguamenti’ for the water. Switches are sweet. No more flashbacks to Lucius’ childhood. Promise. Yes, he was standing for his time alone.

Damiana – Um, yes, both liars. They so deserve each other – in the bedroom.

doodle – I’m blushing. Thank you. I’m an inveterate Regency romance reader so I have some vocabulary I’ll never use outside my stories, sadly.

blue artemis – Lucius definitely got what he wanted and perhaps a bit harder than he anticipated. He’s got a lovely arse in my opinion (snerk).

Crittenz – You’ve come out to review before the last chapter and I’m honored. Don’t worry, the characters will go where you want. You know that. I know that. They haven’t figured it out yet.

Rini – !Waves! Thank you for reviewing. I think I can guarantee Lucius will work on her confidence issues. Your questions are well taken and will be addressed a little further on.

maddie50 – Hi maddie. Hermione was a little conflicted, but got into her dom role fairly well for a beginner LOL. And I think Lucius and his hand may have had a religious experience, but it was probably more pagan in type.


Now, what happens next?


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Chapter Fourteen


No Strings



The next morning breakfast was a quiet affair as two magic folk warily eyed each other from opposite sides of the dining table, oatmeal again the morning’s repast. Both were gingerly sitting on throw pillows retrieved from the parlor settee and trying not to grimace at the dull throbbing still livening up their abused derrieres.

A truce of sorts was in place while the partners mutually avoided discussion of the previous evening’s unpleasantries. After the nearly mute meal, two wands made short work of the dishes and both of them moved by tacit agreement into the front, disused parlor.

Lucius made a zigzag circuit through the high-ceilinged room, returning to stand gazing out a grimy window at the busy street. A few feet away his small associate had been pivoting in place watching the wizard’s aimless perambulations in some confusion. Lucius finally broke the awkward silence, “While I’m gone please make a start renovating this building so we can see to selling it,” Lucius declaimed, breaking the reserve that they were both feeling and annoying Hermione with his highhanded announcement as he pointed to the tarnished ceiling moldings, the threadbare carpet, and the faded paint on the parlor walls. “I don’t particularly want to live in this section of the city, it really doesn’t suit my lifestyle. You can freshen up the furnishings,” he unilaterally decided, “but don’t make the place look like a palace. We would have a hard time explaining how we managed to put in all new furniture and accessories with no one seeing us."

“No,” said Hermione.

“No? Surely the work isn’t beyond your capabilities. I’ve seen you transfigure things. This should go easily.” Lucius tried a cajoling smile, attempting to impress his will on the little witch.

“I don’t want to work on this horrid house. And I don’t want to stand for hours, transfiguring item after item suffering from this persistent throbbing in my butt. I’m going to try another nice bath first, then I’m going to lie in bed face down and study that Debrett’s Peerage you brought home. If I’m to be marooned at home all the time, I’ll do the things I think are important.”

Lucius stopped to consider for a moment, “Well, have your bath and lie down, then perhaps you can make a start on this room. I rather think that no one from this neighborhood has been in this place for a long time, so if you just make the things already here merely look newer, that might be enough. It will take time to transfigure all the areas needing it, so don’t worry about hurrying the work.” Lucius’ expression turned wry, “We have all the time in the world now. I’ll help some tomorrow.

“Meanwhile, I’ll be back this evening with food supplies, then I’ll be out again using Madame’s money as a stake in gambling. Such a rush, worrying if I’ll win or not,” Lucius said cynically, tongue in cheek as he smiled over his shoulder at his compatriot. They both knew he was going to use magic to win. He turned toward the front hall, “I have your groceries list in my pocket, but I’m not sure all these staples will be easy to find. I hope the tampons were just a joke. I’m not buying those even if they exist.”

Hermione had made up the shopping list the day before, hoping to be able to go out to the shops under Lucius’ guardianship and she had added the impossible entry of tampons both to get his goat and to try to make her presence on the shopping trip necessary. Now that bit of subterfuge had blown up in her face and she was steamed at being assigned glorified housework while he got to go out - again. Even though he hadn’t mentioned it, she shrewdly figured he was going back to that brothel he now owned. That did not sit well with her, but she shied away from the reason for her attitude, merely deciding that he shouldn’t be wearing trousers that tight if he was reentering the confines of that house full of loose women. They would be bound to notice those beautifully defined, masculine buttocks so enticingly displayed above his well-muscled legs. He really was obscenely well designed. Hermione closed her eyes on her memory of a gloriously naked butt at her mercy.

“Lucius,” Hermione said desperately, mentally erasing her remembered view of his anatomy, “If you can’t do all the shopping, then take me with you.”

“What about your sore butt?”

“It’s boring stuck in this dreary, creepy house all day. Why don’t you stay here and help me get a start on the transfiguring and this will be done a lot faster? Then I can go out with you. You’re faster and better at transfiguring than I am.” Hermione saw herself enduring another day of tedious waiting while Lucius was out doing whatever it was he did. The memory of that cheap whore’s perfume he’d been wearing drifted through her mind and Hermione instantly squashed the errant thought.

Lucius meantime wanted to get out and away from this enticingly scented Hermione of the soft, tumbling curls. She must have unearthed some bath crystals for her ablutions the night before and the sweet smell of her skin and hair was keeping his damned pantaloons so tight they were cutting off the circulation in essential, turgid areas. Not to mention binding his sore arse.

He’d awakened to find his face buried in the frothy, feminine snare of her tresses and amazingly, his morning erection had begun to throb insistently again. His tool was obviously now back up to optimal operating condition and Lucius knew his libido very well for the lusty, treacherous animal it was. Hermione would have to redecorate the house herself or be slung over the lumpy chaise in the corner for his fast-burgeoning appetite.

He had never seen the virtue in denying himself anything that he had the power to obtain (unless there were undue consequences to himself) and seeing Hermione with her abundant, dark-honey hair tied up with a ribbon made him want to slip the slim piece of fabric from her head and bury his face in those curls again. Unfortunately his little ‘undue consequence’ was staring up at him with big brown eyes, reminding him that his bum still hurt rather badly. He had enjoyed the chastisement, but now he had a lovely matched set of throbbing butt and boinking muscles to show for it. He was having trouble fore and aft and wished he could just strip off the tormenting trousers that plagued him.

“Me staying here is not a very good idea,” Lucius turned again, facing her so she could see his very tight pantaloons. "If I stay, I shall want… concessions that I think you don’t wish to offer.” He waved a long-fingered hand over his distended groin, cocking his head sideways with an enquiring, raised eyebrow, his silver eyes traveling down the front of Hermione’s newly designed dress. She must have spent yesterday creating a bit more for herself than that hideous granny nightie she had spooked him with last night. The pretty yellow dotted muslin with the high-waisted ribbons tied just under her breasts was very becoming - too becoming for her continued chastity unless he left immediately.

Hermione’s eyes lowered to the front of Lucius’ trousers, following the arc of his hand, and saw what he was talking about. It took several seconds for her to look at anything but the long, rigid display arcing up toward his stomach.

“Uh, um, is that a result of what I did to you last night? You seemed sort of aroused afterward.” Brown eyes never left their erotic quarry in those tight pantaloons.

Lucius’ mouth quirked as his surmise proved true. She had thought his reaction was a result of the pain. Well, it had been – in a way. “Not precisely, my dear. Now, would you like to discuss those concessions I mentioned or do you want to get started transfiguring those dusty cornices over the window curtains?”

“And what concessions would those be?” she asked, ignoring his suggestion about the cornices, her chin rising in the air at his confident tone. She wasn’t susceptible to his blatant showcasing of that…that monstrosity in his pants. Hermione nearly moaned out loud at the silly fib she was feeding herself. Why did seeing a perfectly normal – well, not normal exactly – outline of a male penis have to have any effect on her at all? It was totally infuriating that all he had to do was get hard and her bodily urges started jumping up and down, saying ‘Take me, take me!’ and saturating a good pair of knickers.

Lucius decided to cut to the chase, “You can’t tell me you aren’t interested in what I have to offer, Hermione. It fairly pours off you.”

“I’ve had very poor luck with your gender. After two major missteps ten years ago I’m not interested in being victimized again. I can’t help my physical urges, Lucius, but I don’t have to act on them.” Her words didn’t sound convincing even to her, but she crossed her arms over her breasts and tried to look like she believed the total shit she was shoveling.

“And why shouldn’t you act on your physical urges?” he asked, biting his lip to keep from laughing – or moaning. She was adorable trying to deny her primitive instincts, but his pantaloons were positively strangling his assets and his bum felt like it was going to burst into flames. Whoever had hurt her had done a fine job of it.

“Why? Well, well, because it’s just mindless sex.” Okay, that sounded better.

Lucius was watching her like a hippogriff eyeing a particularly tasty ferret. His predatory juices were starting to flow right alongside his sexual ones and that was one combination of senses he always enjoyed, especially when he could accommodate both of them at the same time. He loved the chase and the reward equally. “Mindless sex is the very best kind, my dear.”

“No! No, it’s not,” Hermione said earnestly, pleating her dress between restless fingers. “Sex should be about love…caring about your partner.”

“Well it certainly doesn’t appear to have done you much good,” he scoffed, shooting down her argument. “You said two, wasn’t it? Two men let you down so you’ve decided to punish them by never having sex again. You know, it almost makes me angry that you’ve had years of chances to have sex and chose not to, while I had years of NO chances. You wasted ten years by choice.”

“You deserved it!”

“I chose the losing side in a war,” Lucius waved a negligent hand in the air, disdainfully negating her assertion. “So? If your side had lost, you would have been the one in prison. Both sides thought they were right.”

“Hah! If we had lost, I would have been executed, not sent to prison.”

Lucius laughed, “Quite right and richly deserved too, but can we NOT talk politics which only inflames us – I already have quite enough inflammation to deal with today (Lucius lightly flicked his distended organ) - and return to the main point?”

“Which is?”

“You want to have sex with me.”

“I don’t.”

Lucius merely raised on infuriating eyebrow.

Hermione hedged, “Well, most of me doesn’t.”

“Have you noticed that you’re angry all the time?” the blond wizard enquired, confusing Hermione a bit with his non sequitur.

“What? I’m not angry,” she scoffed, repudiating his claim indignantly, her hands clenching into fists at her sides.

“You are and it’s because you’re fighting yourself. What would happen if you slept with me? Something cataclysmic? Would the world end? Hmm, perhaps that wasn’t a very good consequence to mention. But what are you afraid of? That you would instantly fall in love with me? Want to marry me, have my babies? What is so frightening about some no strings, sensuous, steamy shagging?”

“It’s not frightening. It’s merely repulsive.”

“Oh, I don’t think so. I think your little Tahitian Sunset knickers are getting rained out just about now. What have you to lose? You aren’t a virgin…are you?”


Hermione just shook her head.

“Well then, why behave as though you are? Two men let you down ten years ago and they managed to shrivel up your entire sex life while they’ve probably been screwing themselves blind ever since, enjoying sex and never once giving you a thought.”

Hermione sucked in a horrified gasp, arrested by the picture Lucius was painting for her. Ten years – had she been punishing them for hurting her? Or had she only been punishing herself by cutting herself off from sex? She wasn’t masochistic, was she? Had she really only been hurting herself when she had thought she was protecting herself against further pain? Hermione realized she wasn’t taking in any oxygen and she sucked in another gulp of air, her years of built-up, frosty protection shattering at Lucius’ words. Stupid, horrid, hateful Death Eater. He was right. She’d been living in the shadows while those men probably hadn’t thought of her in the entire last decade.

Lucius’ cogent reasoning left her breathless. A mental door opened a fraction in her tightly protected inner psyche allowing her to breathe a little differently, smile a little differently, stand a little differently and maybe, just maybe explore what he was offering. Her entire desiccated, dusty little world was suddenly, cautiously expanding and the feeling was more than a little exhilarating.

She was even seeing Lucius a little differently now, as something more than merely an old enemy who had saved her life. She was still wary of the wizard even though she trusted him enough to stay with him rather than strike out on her own in this confusing new time - though why she wanted to stay with him was a puzzle of its own. She wasn’t blind; she knew he was a gorgeous, virile man with attractive male attributes, but until now his features and personality had largely left her cold, only thawing her longstanding antipathy a little around the edges from his acknowledged sexual heat. Now he apparently wanted to have sex with her. Her! But why? He wasn’t truly interested in her as a person.

Hermione looked at Lucius in speculation, “Why do you care?” she asked, her suspicions still evident on her open face, “Are you trying to psychoanalyze me into some of your mindless sex?”

Lucius leaned up against the door lintel to the hallway. He didn’t want to sit any more than necessary for while, but his erection was cooling a little with all the dialogue, “Is that a trick question? My Gods, witch, have you looked at yourself in the last ten years? Really looked? You’re a beautiful young woman. Lovely face, delightful figure, graceful carriage, mesmerizing intelligence, although I admit that’s more a personal preference not usually indigenous to the male gender. Why wouldn’t I want to have sex with you? I’d start to worry about myself if I didn’t want to get in your knickers.”

Hermione blushed, but couldn’t quite believe him, “My hair is frightful. Ugly, bushy.” Roger had thrown those hurtful barbs at her on his way out of her life.

“I hear someone else saying those words,” Lucius said immediately, pinpointing the source precisely. “I think it was just mean-spirited spite coming from some thwarted male. He sounds very young and stupid – and blind. You can’t really believe that.” Lucius proffered a lock of his own silky blond hair, twirling it in two elegant fingers, then letting it cascade back to kiss his shoulders, “I have hair that couldn’t find a curl on a pig’s tail. To me your curls are exciting, arousing. Your tousled locks make me think of hot, strenuous sex, hours and hours of it.”

Hermione digested all of Lucius’ words, seeing herself perhaps for the first time in ten years without the yoke of her imagined inadequacies dragging her down. The idea of hours of hot, steamy sex that Lucius was apparently offering began a churning low in her belly that was not quite painful, but was a nagging sort of ache that she knew he could assuage – if she had the guts to accept his offer. The ache grew more insistent even as she merely stood there. “I still don’t like you,” she stalled, weakening.

Lucius scented victory and deemed it time to take command. She would never take the first step. He pushed up from the wall, “I can live with that. Come here!”

Hermione stood still, taking in the six-foot tall, broad-shouldered, narrow waisted, long-legged wizard in front of her, minutely inspecting his form from his long, silver blond hair flowing to the tops of those shoulders, past his captivating pale gray eyes which just then were trained on her bosoms, down an impressive male chest which she knew from previous experience sported a fine pair of pectorals and a corrugated abdomen, all of which made a vee pointing down to the wickedly tight pantaloons she had admired just moments before.

At that point Hermione came out of her floaty infatuation with the masculine attributes of her companion to frown at those tan pantaloons – and his dove gray waistcoat, pristine white shirt, dark blue coat and high-gloss, calf-hugging black boots.*

“What happened to your shabby clothes? I thought we were supposed to keep a low profile in this neighborhood? Sweet Guinevere, is that a bit of lace I see on your shirt and cuffs? You look like you’re taking tea with the queen.” Hermione felt her own new clothing was acceptable to wear as she was always stuck in the house. But he wasn’t. He had planned on going out wearing the high style of the rake he’d portrayed last night.

“At the moment I believe the Muggles’ ruler is a king, not a queen, but I do commend your perceptive abilities. These are indeed more fashionable clothes, which I will be wearing from here on out. I refuse to cut such a common figure any longer when there is no need now.”

“And why is that?”

“Because now I am a property owner, two properties to be exact. With the changes I am making I expect the brothel to turn a handsome profit, partially from the additional gaming, which I plan to introduce. And I’m going to sell this building, as you know.”

“You’re going to run that bordello? Is it for the money or for the free samples?” Hermione’s brow clouded up in incipient anger.

Lucius wasn’t about to be distracted from his goal of seducing his little sweet-smelling witch, however, so he turned the conversation back again before she could get a foothold in the new topic. “Now, now, my dear Hermione, don’t change the subject. I am interested in speaking to that small part of you that admits to desiring me. I have my suspicions on which part that is, but I’d like some confirmation from you. Either that or I can start searching for it myself.” Lucius focused all his considerable magnetism on his target, looking deeply into her eyes and attempting to erase her pinched expression.

His mesmerizing, icy eyes made her go a little floaty again and Hermione sucked in an affected breath. She truly did want to discover just how talented a wizard he was to be able to make that more than generous tool of his fit into her petite tool shed. The idea made her shiver, but she admitted to herself it wasn’t entirely fear. This lovely, curling sensation was lust – pure, undiluted, no strings lust.

She wasn’t likely to get a better offer if she waited ten more years. Besides, she didn’t want to start transfiguring old, musty furnishings and decorations if she could avoid it. His carnal offer was much more alluring – as was he. She brushed aside her hesitation about her own unskilled abilities. He knew she had nearly no experience and he was making his offer anyway. She was a fast learner, wasn’t she?

“No strings?” she clarified."No lightskirts?" The word 'lightskirt' sank into both their minds and Lucius understood Hermione didn't want him enjoying his new bordello as a customer.



“Absolutely,” averred Lucius. He saw no conflict between his plan to keep her permanently as his bedmate and the avowal he was making to her now. To him no strings meant no unnecessary, meaningless, and messy emotional entanglements. Just a forever partnership with side benefits. He planned to be mostly faithful, unless some unbelievably erotic temptation crossed his path. Why jeopardize guaranteed and available sex for a hunting license? He would magnanimously allow the same to her, but figured his brand of sex would be enough to keep her occupied for years after so many barren ones without any sex at all. Lucius refused to let the idea of Hermione sleeping with another man commandeer even a single brain cell for fruitless pondering as he decided which way would be best to begin his seduction.

Lucius knew she would want a bit more coaxing than a curt command to take off her dress so he glided up to her, standing toe to toe, just letting her feel his body close to hers first. Curt commands could come later, when they both wanted to play that erotic game.

Hermione inhaled in trepidation and got the comforting scent of his lime and male essence flooding her senses. That instantly relaxed her, but she put out her hand to hold him off anyway in a reflexive action, pushing against his chest. Lucius did nothing but allow her small hand to press his sternum, standing at ease and smiling down at her more with his eyes than his mouth. That made her ease up a bit more and her hand began a tentative journey up his chest between his pecs to his throat, passing over his collarbone and feeling the fine fabric of the lace on his shirt and neckcloth.

“Uh, Lucius?”

“Hmmm?” Lucius was filling his olfactories with that enticing scent from her hair he’d had his face in at daybreak and he was happily tracking the tiny hand making its way up his chest.

“How do we have all this no strings sex with our bums all red, black and blue?” Maybe Lucius had forgotten the discomfort, but Hermione’s heartbeat was still rhythmically radiating all through the welts on her still-tender butt.

Lucius’ eyes snapped open. Shite! Neither of them could be on their backs and even if they did it doggy style, he’d be slapping himself against her inflamed butt. Hell and damnation! Sex was going to have to wait a day or so until their backsides recovered. He was sure he had better resistance to being spanked with a wand than she, but Hermione had laid some fierce wallops on his tush, plus it had been twelve years without keeping up his ‘stamina’ so he was hurting probably as much as she was. He rejected standing her up against a wall as an alternative. As an initiation into sex with him, wall sex just wasn’t very romantic and Lucius wanted his expertise on full display when he took her the first time.

“Let me go find Diagon Alley and purchase some numbing ointment from the chemist’s. That should repair the damage enough for us to look forward to this evening. I’ll buy wine and food and we’ll have a lovely dinner and candlelight. There are plenty of candles in the pantry.”

“If you’re going to Diagon Alley, I’m going, too. I want to get out of this cage. I’ve been nowhere except in a cow field, on a dusty road, here, and in that horrible bordello.”

Lucius looked at her determined stance and caved. Some battles were more important than others to win.

tbc...

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* Here's a pic of a gentleman of the Regency times:

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/
commons/thumb/b/be/1816-Lord-Grantham-Ingres.png/361px-1816-Lord-Grantham-Ingres.png

As per my usual, I'm metaphorically passing the hat for reviews. Thanks in advance!

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