The Radiant

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The first thing Ginny noticed when she woke up was how close Lucius was to her. Usually he shied away from her even in sleep, sliding over to the far, cool side of the bed, languidly clinging to the vestiges of his solitary kingdom. Ginny didn’t mind that – she preferred a vast sea of sheets to thrash on, to spread out her legs and arms and feel along the linens with exploring fingertips. This morning, however, Ginny’s fingertips were exploring Lucius’ forearm from where it was draped heavily around her waist. She was not pulled back into him, but was still close, merely an inch or two separating their bodies. His chin was nearly touching the back of her neck, and she could feel the heated puffs of his breath fanning the wisped hairs along her hairline. She smiled at the window.

He let out a small groan behind her as the morning light roused him thickly from sleep. As he turned onto his back, he withdrew his arm from her, perhaps thinking her to be still asleep, but Ginny remained smiling quietly, realizing now that sometimes in his dreaming he reached out and anchored himself to her.

She remained on her side, turned away from him as he shifted, and when he began to sit up, Ginny stirred, leaving the sheet down around her waist, her breasts exposed. She slid over onto her stomach, looking up at him, the linens barely covering the curve of her buttocks, the cleft between them just visible. She kept her cheek pillowed on the backs of her hands, her palms down on the mattress.

He leaned over her suddenly, moving so quickly that for a moment she was genuinely frightened, and then rapidly impressed at his litheness. He lowered himself lightly on top of her, his front to her back, a hand planted on either side of her head, and he bit at the back of her neck before smoothly easing off of her.

Ginny was unanchored.

“Please –” The word was little more than a gasp, but it did the trick. Lucius stopped moving away from her and instead hovered above her. She arched her back, trying to touch him in some way or another, trying to rub the skin of her back onto his front, but he tutted at her and pushed her down onto the mattress. Bending his elbows slightly he remained above her but nearly untouchable, and she could feel his erection brushing between her legs, and then with a slide of his hips he was running the length of himself along her. Ginny threw her head back, the red curls slipping down her shoulders, and she could hear Lucius inhale.

He shoved her legs apart brusquely, reaching a hand around to push her head into the mattress.

“Keep your head down. Don’t move.” Her body nearly undulated, unbidden, at his words, but she kept herself –

“My… rule…” Oh, she could kill herself for making that no-sex rule, but it had seemed relevant and right at the time, and it still did, and could she go back on her morals like that?

Lucius made the choice for her, plying his hands between her legs and opening her thighs farther, still behind her, still unseen by her. His voice traveled around her.

“I’m not going to be fucking you. Think of it as a reward for making milestones along the path to getting to know each other.”

And then he had pulled upwards on her hips, balancing her bottom higher in the air, and buried his mouth between her legs, licking long strokes from her clitoris upward to her perineum and then even higher, firmly exploring her anus with his tongue. Ginny’s mouth fell open and she felt her face turn red, a blush that was probably seeping down her back, heating the skin under Lucius’ hands – because his hands were now grabbing at her shoulders as he concentrated on his task.

“Motherfucker.” It was the only word that she could manage, and she felt him laugh into her, the wet sounds as he pulled away.

“Always so verbose, sweet.” And then he returned between her legs, having to angle his head and mouth on an awkward, deep angle in order to lick at her clitoris determinedly with the broad, strong part of his tongue. Ginny involuntarily opened her thighs farther, the strong muscles starting to tremble, and he let go of one of her shoulders in order to smack her right flank with an open palm, akin to how a man would coax his horses.

And she wanted to be indignant but then he was slipping his tongue into her, that rogue hand coming up to circle her clitoris, his other hand sliding off of her left shoulder to come to tease between the cleft of her buttocks, sliding inside her there too, an abrasive but not unwelcome intrusion, and Ginny’s back stiffened.

It was his sounds that sent her over the hurtling, sweet precipice of orgasm, however. She had been closing her eyes, her fists gripping the headboard so hard that she was losing feeling in her fingers, and then he moaned, the soft, throaty sound of a man who was fully, insanely enjoying the task at hand, and Ginny’s eyes opened, clicking, and she threw her head back again, the whorls of her hair catching the wan morning light, and she came, body rolling slowly like a cat, guttural sounds flowing from her.

Lucius stayed with her, a hand clenching each buttock, grounding her, as she finished the jerky aftershocks of her orgasm, his tongue still nudging lightly at her, licking subtly. Finally, her arms and thighs gave out and she fell face first into the bed, turning onto her back, pulling him down wordlessly into a deep, wet kiss.

Lucius was surprised but pleased that she was so keen on tasting herself on him, and as she sucked his lower lip into her mouth noisily, he plied her breasts and shoulders with light, circular touches.

Finally, he pulled away.

“Not sex.”

Ginny laughed in spite of herself, reaching behind her to clasp his wrist tightly, feeling the pulse streaming underneath his skin.

“That was phenomenal.” She stretched upwards and he sucked a nipple into his mouth. She jittered pleasantly. “Thank you.”

He pushed up off of her. “Up. We have to get ready for the ruins. It’s probably half six by now, and I want to escape most of the heat.” Ginny swatted at his behind but levered herself out of bed, dragging on Lucius’ white button-down shirt but leaving it nearly open for the heat, and heading to the kitchen.

She poured herself a glass of water, sipping slowly, watching him as he walked naked through the kitchen and dining area to draw the front curtains, open the windows, let the warm dark morning air filter in, admired his strong legs, the sparse light hair across his thighs, the mild snarls in his hair, the morning stubble. Propping herself against the counter, she ran her hands between her legs, feeling the reddened burn from that same stubble all along her inner thighs.

Ginny hoisted herself up on the counter, her legs slightly open, the shirt hanging, the lowest two buttons done but the rest loose. Lucius stopped mid-stride as he was walking back to the bedroom, wordlessly pivoting on his heel and instead coming into the kitchen, moving in front of her, a hand on the counter on either side of her thighs.

“You’re not getting ready.” His face was inches from hers. She smiled and lifted the glass up to her mouth again, forcing him to move his head back. When she lowered it, he kissed her.

“… affectionate this morning.” Her sentence was garbled, muffled by his mouth. Lucius kissed her again and she reflexively wrapped her legs around his waist, his hands sliding under her bottom as he stepped away from the counter, sliding haphazardly down to the cool floor.

Ginny moved away from the kiss.

“We’re not going to make it to the ruins today.”

“Fuck the ruins.” His voice was low.

“I’m not sleeping with you.”

“You don’t have to.” He tried to pull her in for another kiss but she dipped her head away, tangling her hands in his hair, tugging his head back so that he was staring back and up at her, the ribbing of his throat exposed. Ginny licked across his adam’s apple and started to talk to him conversationally.

“Your favourite colour is red. Your birthday is December 28th. You know your literature. But I still don’t know you inside out.” Lucius juddered beneath her as she bit at his neck and when she came up, looking at him, she smiled sharply and wickedly. “Do you like to fuck from behind?”

“What?” His eyebrows bent in surprise. Ginny continued breathlessly, settling herself directly in his lap, layering skin upon skin. The heat of his groin was phenomenal – she was nearly in flame just from being so close to him.

“Or maybe you like to be on top?” She grabbed at his wrists and pulled them down below his back, hold one in each hand. Ginny felt his arm muscles relax and knew that he was giving himself in to the game – with one sharp movement he was able to tear himself free from her and fling her, rag-doll like, across the room, but for the moment he was submitting. She felt like her eyes were going to fill up – the fact that he was tucking away the dominant personality, just for this sublime slice of time, was meaningful for her.

They looked fantastical, the two of them twined mostly naked on the floor of the villa kitchen, Lucius with his back up against the cabinets, Ginny straddling his lap snugly, the men’s shirt slipping down her back, their arms knotted into each other, tucked behind his broad body. They looked like a mythical beast, chimerical and heaving.

She rolled against his erection and he could feel her heat, her wetness.

“What did you say about me being affectionate today?” He ground his words out against her mouth.

“Or do you like it when I’m on top?”

They were moving against each other in earnest now, rocking faster.

“Could I tie you? Whip you? Beat you or bite you? Maybe spank you?” He ripped his hands out from behind them, shaking off her wrists, bringing his fingers to her bottom, grabbing at her.

“Silly bitch… playing with fire,” he hissed at her and Ginny grabbed his chin in one hand, pinching at him hard until she saw him visibly wince.

“Do you like to fuck in the ass?” She could feel him stiffen below her, his thighs tensing at her vulgar language, her filthy words whispered across the whorls of his ear.

“Do you like to be fucked in the ass?”

His hands grabbed at her so hard she feared she would bruise, have Lucius hand prints branded on her flanks, and he came, lines of hot come rubbing between them, coating their stomachs. She moved against him frenziedly for a few moments more and tailed his orgasm with her own, coming silently, her eyes closed.

They breathed heavily together for long minutes.

“I thought we were supposed to be getting to know each other.” His voice sliced through the sticky quiet.

“We are, Lucius.” Ginny trailed her fingers down his neck absentmindedly. “The stuttering pattern our bodies make, the language skin speaks, the smell of your sweat.” She lowered her face to the crux of his neck and shoulder and inhaled softly. “That’s learning, too. That is true learning, when we aren’t rutting towards a goal but instead feeling our way along.” He rumbled a sort of consent.

“We can go to the ruins tomorrow.”

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They lay in the master bed, Ginny’s head by his feet at the bottom of the bed, her feet propped up on the headboard next to where he was sitting and reading. She was eating slices of pears, the juice running down between her fingers, circling her wrists.

“You’re going to get the sheets sticky.”

He was looking at her from overtop of his reading glasses, yet had his head kept down. Ginny prodded him with her foot.

“Do you want a piece?”

Lucius hummed and tilted over, and without taking his eyes off of his book opened his mouth. She slid the fruit in.

“Thank you.” He straightened.

“Lucius?”

“Hm?”

“Did you love Narcissa?”

He didn’t look so hostile this time. Instead, he looked thoughtful. He answered nearly immediately.

“No.”

“What then?”

“Respect, for the most part. Tolerance. Sometimes admiration. It was an arranged marriage, after all. You know that. And sometimes love can arise in arranged marriages, and sometimes it cannot. It just wasn’t a prolific environment for that to happen – not with everything that was going on – with the war…” He trailed off, watching her.

“The war…” She echoed his words carefully.

“Let’s not talk about the war. I know it bothers you.” He had a softer expression on his face.

“I thought you hated avoidance, Lucius.”

He set his book down on the side table and creaked forward, lying on his back next her with his head at the foot of the bed, not touching her but reassuring her with his proximity.

“I do. Very much so. But we have years to talk about that.” Ginny turned on her side, quiet, to observe him after that statement – the fact that he referred to their future in terms of years, of wide hanks of time.

She laid her hand on his chest and the both of fell asleep at the wrong end of the bed.

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