The Taming of the Shrew - Wizard Style - COMPLETE

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9-18-09 F

A lemon ahead. The "lovebirds" are still meeting only on the physical level. I hope that's good enough for now. Next chapter: Severus and Narcissa.


Some answers to comments:


angeles – (Polishing my ‘genius’ badge) Thank you. I hope you continue to enjoy my rendition of Snape in this story. He almost makes me a convert – don’t tell Lucius.

crysta656 – Ah, sorry, no kinky Lucius in the last chapter. I totally agree he’s best served naked – did you already read this next chapter??? No? Lucky guess, then? 8-)

Aliciana – You can take your fingers away from your eyes now. This story isn’t going to have any far-reaching BDSM. It will be similar to my other stories in kinkiness. Pretty mild all in all. I can see the school governors might be leery of Lucius let loose in Hogwarts, but he never had an unsavory reputation for what they are afraid of. The Skeeter articles merely gave him a reputation for a parade of adult witches through his bedroom. And most of that is fabrication by the nasty reporter. So I can see him being livid about the smear to his honor (not that his honor isn’t quite flexible in other ways…) I do think your old school needed to string up a few of the flirty professors, though. I think Alan Rickman is quite delicious as well. I’m glad you’re seeing Jason Isaacs as interesting now, too. Both men have their own places in the pantheon of sexy characters in films.

Someonenotme – No fear – there will always be more chapters until the story comes to the end. Sorry about the evil cliffie, but I’m afraid there will be more of those, too, here and there.

Sirsevchick – Lucius’ devious nature is his greatest attribute to me. Hermione can’t help but find this new world of adventurous sex enthralling, even if it is offered by a handsome, former Death Eater LOL. She’s not a shy type by any means, so her fear factor is lessening quickly. You want Lucius to be yours? He’s available a week from next Thursday. Do you like champagne and paté?

Aleysiasnape – Yes, Lucius was completely taken by surprise and totally flummoxed that he’d been set up by Severus - not that he hadn’t done the same type of doublecross to Severus in other situations. It is their form of mutual entertainment. Slytherins have unique styles of recreation sometimes.

BeaBibliophile – Silver roses – think about it – silver rose, green leaves. Slytherin colors. Except for sex, Lucius spends little time with Hermione. His finances are slowly crumbling so building a relationship with Hermione is somewhat lower on his to-do list for now. Too bad both Lucius and Snape are now married – they might have invited you over for a threesome in the playroom. You’d probably look quite fetching in the mermaid outfit being speared on Lucius’ trident.

jw – Lucius will tell Hermione about Hogwarts and her role, but first he wants to establish his ‘bleachhead,’ preferably somewhere intimate on Hermione’s body. Lucius ordered a lot of those short, diaphanous robes for Hermione. He just hasn’t given them to her yet (ch. 17).

Liagiba84 – Lucius is rich; he’s furnished his leisure room to suit himself – other men might have a den with a big screen TV and perpetually cold beers on hand. Lucius has his own way to unwind. 8-)

Serin Blackmoon – Lucius and Severus are similar personalities, both sharply intelligent, and neither of them burdened with an unnecessary amount of integrity. I cannot imagine Lucius ever winding up with a broken heart. Just with this story alone, there is a line of reviewers who are willing to cheer him up. But I do hope the newly married couple finds some common ground outside the bedroom. Neither of them wants to open up his/her budding feelings to the other right now. There is still no real trust.

Elisheva Nadir – My goodness, that is a lovely compliment, and the F word is one of my favorites, too, LOL!

Snapes_Goddess – Do perverts live in halfway houses? I suspect you wouldn’t need to be a halfway house to have him test out your bed. Do you like dogs then? I admit I’m a cat person, but I wanted to play with Lucius as a noncat person in this story. He’s certainly not thrilled with the feline invading his beautiful home.

ccrawley – Always nice to see your name pop up. I’m happy you like the story.

Rini – But of course school comes first! Can I come second? You can always sleep later LOL. Skeeter should have been SKINNED a long time ago. Dunno how one skins a ladybug, though. Lucius must tell Hermione, but he wants a little more time before the rest of his reasons for their marriage come out. Snape certainly had all the exits covered in dealing with his longtime friend. They know each other soooo well.

Scary Bear Hair – I agree that if Hermione gets full Monty Lucius first, the flowers and candy can come later. Lucius is charming, but his other, darker facets fascinate me more. He isn’t someone to turn your back on. But then neither is Snape, so the two men are very evenly matched in wits. And they definitely enjoy matching wits with each other. I wouldn’t be surprised that Snape wanted Lucius remarried for other reasons. Lucius does like to write his nasty notes, doesn’t he. He’s set up his playroom for fun, amusing escapades enjoyable for both partners. It isn’t a den of iniquity by any means. Will Hermione see it that way?

blue artemis – Hermione is still wearing monster-colored glasses and Lucius knows it. He hopes that it will be harder and harder for her to see him that way if she’s always coming down from terrific orgasms LOL. I think he may have a point. Sneaky Snape knows Lucius very well and made sure the plan went forward – despite any snags from the governors or from Lucius himself. Yes, Lucius likes a bit of kink in his sex sometimes, but not anything truly damaging to a partner.

T Stevenson – Hey T! Recovered from your vacation in the Carolinas now? You’ve pointed out that the two of them are lonely. Good call. They are also both rather take-charge, stubborn people. Hermione sees herself as the victim, but she doesn’t know Lucius was ‘shanghaied’ into the marriage also. By Snape. He is smart enough to understand no woman wants to find out she wasn’t even selected by her groom, no matter that the reason she thinks he married her is reprehensible enough already. At least he chose her. Finding out he didn’t even choose her... well, you can see he isn’t going to divulge that bit of information if he wants any kind of marriage at all, and he does (see lonely above). Lucius may be devious; he isn’t stupid. He’s reeling at being handed a Muggleborn wife, clueless about her background culture, and trying to work from his reality of Pureblood life, teaching her his ways. That isn’t going over at all well and he’s slowly figuring that out. He’s also beset by financial problems that are getting worse so he’s in a bind. Hermione is out of her depth, too, probably feeling a little middle class around great wealth and therefore feisty about it. She’s usually so certain about everything that this new, unfamiliar life she’s thrown into is making her very short-tempered. Two hot tempers aren’t going to sit quietly and discuss their relationship – yet. No comment on youthful Snape-type indiscretions.

Lucius has been married before & has a more realistic view of marriage. Hermione has to give up on her hearts & flowers dreams and live with her new reality, which ain’t all that bad, judging from her increasing interest in the treasure trove under Lucius’ robes. It’s the only time her mouth isn’t delivering guided missiles aimed at his every weak point. I’ll let you decide how the Severus-Narcissa relationship works as you read the chapters. Lucius is blindsided by his new wife in many areas, not least of which is her intelligence, which I suspect he’ll come to appreciate. For now, they are still strangers to each other and there is little trust between them. Snape is interested in the fate of Purebloods for a few reasons; he sees the larger picture like Hermione does, he is friends with Lucius, and he’s married to a Pureblood now so his stake in the problem is very personal. Lucius will make a hot Headmaster, but do you really need his robes to be buttoned up? Say you’re okay with them open, pretty please? LOL. And if you could send me a few of your sordid fantasies about Lucius as Headmaster, I’d be thrilled.



Make way for the lemon...


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Chapter Sixteen


Hanging Around

“Doesn’t having an unwilling partner bother you?” Hermione asked from her position standing quietly on the floor with her arms caught above her. She tried to pretend she, too, was oblivious of her nudity and her vulnerable stance and it gave her a bit of confidence. And somehow, just seeing that green collar circling her husband’s throat made her core clench with want instead of fear.

Her question brought a full grin to the elegant wizard’s face. “Hermione, you aren’t unwilling. Lie to me, but don’t lie to yourself.”

“I’m not willing to be strung up like a smoked ham for you to practice your unnatural vices on,” she pouted. “You’re humiliating me. And you like it.”

The blond wizard slyly smiled, “Is that humiliation I see dripping down your thigh? Oh yes, I certainly do like that.” Lucius leaned forward and drew a slim finger slowly up her leg catching the drip on the elegantly manicured tip. He lifted his finger to his lips and licked the moisture, shocking her anew.

Hermione couldn’t believe the man had just licked her body juice off his fingers. Eww. What did she do now? Did she acknowledge Lucius’ icky act by deriding him for it or did she pretend the drip wasn’t there in the first place? She was totally out of her element, all her upright virtuous beliefs burning to ash on the sinful fires of her own painful lust.

She had been forced to marry a deviant, depraved, wicked villain – he was, wasn’t he? So why didn’t his dissolute ways show up on his gorgeous face? Shouldn’t he at least have a squint or a few pimples? Hermione shivered and hoped her debaucher would find a way to sop up the rest of her moisture before letting her go free to repudiate him. That finger traveling up her thigh hadn’t gone nearly high enough, the immoral dastard.

Hermione’s moral compass was swinging wildly, her mind battling with her body for supremacy. Lucius was challenging her staid standards and she didn’t know what was right when he touched her. When she was alone all her strict values reasserted themselves, but when she got near him, all she wanted to do was bite his shoulder again… and maybe other places. Oh Gods, she moaned quietly, I’m turning into him!

Lucius watched as another drip left its sanctuary and trailed downward. Time for his feast - his after-dinner quaff was served. He stepped up against the petite witch and easily lifted her up, up, up, settling her thighs over his shoulders facing him, with her arms still trapped above her as the hook immediately adjusted itself upward.

With no hesitation he seized both her butt cheeks in his big hands and pulled her crotch straight forward into his face. He felt his wife’s appalled reaction as he got his first lick of her lovely, wet pussy. Lucius held on as she twisted frantically, burying his tongue and nose and lips in her rose-scented folds and delicately nibbling the tender skin. Her heels drummed a frantic tattoo on his back – for about three seconds.

“Lucius! NO! Oh my, you aren’t supposed to do that! Stop it! Guhhh, oh MYeeee!” Hermione tried spasmodically to break free and then… she didn’t. He was truly a devil to make her body submit to such a shameful act.

“Oh, oh, LUCIUS!” Hermione’s head hung back and her eyes closed as she absorbed each nip and lick and suck of her wizard’s wanton mouth on her most intimate place. Her thighs loosened up of their own accord and her butt muscles were now helping Lucius’ hands hold her to that corrupt tongue of his. Each delicate petal was explored by the tip of that questing tongue as he gently used it to pry open her sex for his oral invasion.

Deep in her folds, Lucius intoned, “You wish me to stop?” his low voice causing amazing reverberations all through her oversensitized crotch.

“Huh?” Hermione was now dwelling purely between her legs and she wasn’t listening to Lucius’ words so much as reveling in their vibration along her jangled nerve endings. This was wicked. HE was wicked. Why had she wasted years not enjoying this? She was going to feel absolutely dirty later for doing this with him, but oh, my, the man knew how to please a female sexually. Hermione’s mind closed down to a single track, the one leading directly to her clit, which Lucius was now expertly strumming.

Lucius was glorying in his wife’s sweet little body. He had wanted to do this the first night, but knew she wouldn’t like the idea. Tonight he had given her no choice and she could allow him to lasciviously lick her labia front to back while telling herself later she was coerced.

Lucius didn’t care – he was already past redemption in her eyes. This was life at its libidinous best with more to come. He diligently worked her petals and her nubbin until she was moaning, then he inserted a finger into her sheath, sliding it in and out several times from underneath and making sure to hit her most sensitive inner spot. He rejoiced in the squeals and sighs his puritan little wife was making. He thought he might even have heard an admonition to lick faster, although with her convulsing thighs as earmuffs it was rather hard to hear.

The blond wizard was deep into his quest to coordinate his tongue, lips, and nose to best effect when he almost got decapitated for his efforts as Hermione suddenly fell off the earth into a gut-wrenching orgasm that tightened her thighs around his head convulsively. His face got smashed into his personal paradise and he kept licking while she keened out her pleasure in a high wail.

First she went rigid in his hands, then moments later she wilted into a heap on his shoulders. That was Lucius’ cue to drop her down and press her limp legs around his waist as he unceremoniously impaled her sopping service entrance on his waiting penis. Lucius hiked her up and pulled her further down onto his waiting tumescence a second time, embedding himself more deeply. Then he began using his strong butt muscles and his arms to cram his hard length into her saturated sheath, over and over, groaning out his fierce pleasure and taking his measure of enjoyment from his wife’s femininity.

“Oh, Gods yes,” Hermione went a little insane when soft pale hair swept her breasts as Lucius added a few sharp nips to the side of her neck; she grabbed onto her pumping mate with her legs and rode the thick stick inside her with abandon. “More, more, more,” she chanted, not hearing her own cries as she came close to shattering once again.

Suddenly a new sensation breached her body. Lucius was pressing something – a finger? – into her… “LUCIUS! NO!” But the unfamiliar minute invasion of her inviolate backdoor knocked her into a mind-collapsing climax and she was swept into a timeless vortex where sensation was all. Her surroundings disappeared as she rode out the imperative call of the most ferocious orgasm she had ever had.

Lucius was so excited he slammed his body into hers without a care for her delicate tissues, but it didn’t sound like he was hurting her. Just the opposite. She was loving it and so was he. He knew she was immersed in the sensations because she was now actively using the hook and her wristguards to swing herself up and down to help him.

Lucius had mindlessly reverted to a more sophisticated level, one he hadn’t been able to indulge for years as he felt for her puckered rosette, sliding his little finger just inside the rim as she reached her peak. He felt her jerk in shocked reaction, then had to hold her steady as she went ballistic. His own desire had to take a backseat as she nearly jumped out of his arms in her startled exultation.

Exhausting seconds rolled by as her tiny body shimmied and jerked spasmodically, out of her control. Finally, her abused nerve endings calmed enough for Lucius to search out his own climax and he opened the hook, allowing Hermione to drop her arms around his shoulders as he wobbled a couple of steps over to the wall to hold her against it as he finally let himself go.

His arm held her bare back off the wall as he pounded everything he owned into the soaking wet sheath of his sated wife, his breath lost somewhere between his lungs and his cock. Within seconds a deep, pained groan vibrated off the walls as the fiercely aroused wizard finished and spilled himself into her.

Hermione wasn’t aware of much of anything as Lucius carefully tidied them both with his wand, removed her cuffs and their collars and Apparated with her back to his bedroom. He was completely drained and so was the rose-scented little bundle in his arms. Tucking her gently into his bed, Lucius climbed in beside her, holding her against his chest as she whispered in a tiny, tired voice, “Where was the punishment?” before she went dead asleep. Lucius smiled as he, too, drifted into an untroubled, calm sleep.

~~~~

Hermione crept out of Lucius’ bed the next morning before it was entirely light out, not caring that he didn’t like her to leave before he awoke. She was completely appalled at what he had done to her. And worse, how she had behaved in return. She’d vaguely heard of the disgusting practice of… of… that licking thing, but had thought it only practiced by vulgar, low-class prostitutes and such. She utterly repudiated the other violation he had visited upon her body. His finger must have slipped as he clutched her. Hermione couldn’t believe him breeching her backside had been on purpose.

Her clear-cut world of missionary sex that she had been so proud of with Ron that one time (no matter it had turned into such an utter disappointment) was being revised with a vengeance. Now she knew that highborn magic folk sometimes did unspeakably vulgar sex acts, too. It was still a Pureblood beast who was performing them on her without her permission, but there didn’t appear to be any way she could avoid responding to him. Spanking and the, uh, um, ‘come and lick us’ or whatever it was called, were so far out of her realm as to be another culture entirely.

She was very worried that she would be drawn into Lucius’ depraved world. So far he had spanked her, then made her strong, granite edifice of stodgy beliefs about sweet sex and perfect love erode into kitty litter so fast she thought there might be something wrong with her. Even now the remembrance of his tongue…her heart thumped in… in… my Gods, that had felt good! How did she resist that if he tried to do it again?

She wasn’t in love with the handsome Pureblood, so why did she react so unabashedly to his nasty advances? Her vague remembrances of his kindness about her nightmares she discounted as only what he should have done, Apparating her into that terrible room. Hermione began rebuilding her mental defenses against Lucius’ sinful physicality immediately.

~~~~~

Lucius decided to allow a cooling off period for his prim, little wife after his latest foray behind her starchy façade and the next few days he left her alone except for dinner together. However, Hermione invited even more animosity into her marriage by making the elves her adoring acolytes and there were numerous times Lucius called for one and got no answer. The explanation was always to do with Hermione pre-empting them for some project or other for her research.

Lucius groused to himself - if she had to use others for her business, why couldn’t she hire them? She had enough money now to do that easily. Lucius began to suspect she was subverting the elves into a work slowdown so that he would appreciate them more. All it did was drive more of a wedge between their beliefs.

In desperation, Lucius decided to invite the Snapes over to dinner as a bulwark against another fight with his little witch.

He wasn’t to know that his decision would merely pour oil on the conflagration of their marriage.

~~~~~

When he casually announced to Hermione a few days later that he had invited the Snapes to dinner, he got a less than enthusiastic response. Lucius stood in the doorway to Hermione’s sitting room announcing their evening plans mid-morning of the same day as the surprise dinner.

“You’ve invited Severus and your ex-wife to dinner? Tonight? Is this part of the superior Pureblood social behavior that the rest of us low class types can’t understand? Did it ever cross your mind to consult with me? Why ever would you want to socialize with a woman who divorced you? And why would you only tell me the same day they are coming? Were you trying to belittle me in some way?”



“It’s more than Pureblood civility, Hermione. Perhaps you’re applying your middle class, rigid morés to a perfectly normal situation. Had you thought of that? Why should I not be friends with Narcissa? We were married well over twenty years and we have a son together. I talk to her fairly often about Draco and I’ve been invited to their home for dinner numerous times.”

He took a deep breath and promised himself he wouldn’t lose his temper over Hermione’s Pureblood dig. “I haven’t tried to belittle you. I happened to see Severus at the Ministry and I just asked him and Narcissa on the spur of the moment. Don’t judge everything I do in terms of annoying you.”

“How much more?” Hermione asked.

“What?”

“How much more than Pureblood civility is it? That’s what you said just now.” Hermione studied the man, seeing his temper starting to escalate once again. She could always tell because he had the habit of slowly rubbing his middle finger against his index finger on his right hand. His face might appear completely benign, even amused, but that faint, telltale finger rub gave him away every time. It was a twitch that he was entirely unaware of, but it told Hermione whenever she had struck sparks in his pride. His was not the face of a man who wore his emotions for all to see, but the more she was around him, the more she learned the subtle, physical cues that were keys to his moods and thoughts.

He had scant patience when she touched on his heritage or his alliances or his pride, and his finger-rubbing was the worst then. She rather enjoyed poking her verbal sticks into his Slytherin cage just to see those magnificent eyes flash silver when the finger rubs turned into overt rage.

“Are you asking if ‘more than Pureblood civility’ means I’m saying I am still in love with Narcissa? That will be rather difficult to answer as I was never in love with her in the first place.” Lucius raised one of his eyebrows at Hermione’s ill-mannered snort of disbelief.

“She’s reputed to be gorgeous. You’re lying. I don’t know why, but you are.”

“So one need only see outward beauty to fall in love?” Lucius’ face developed a nasty leer, “Does that mean you must be in love with me? You’ll admit I’m well above average in looks.”

Hermione’s famous intellect ground to a halt. He… she… they… Her mouth dropped open in sheer amazement. “I’m not in love with you. Your looks mean nothing to me but a pretty façade for a cruel Slytherin psyche. And don’t look now, but your bloated ego is showing.”

“So,” he pursued relentlessly, “you can resist the surface looks of a handsome man, but I’m helpless to resist the surface looks of a beautiful woman? I’m disappointed in you, my dear. Your logic is not only faulty, it’s warped by your animosity toward me. Tsk, tsk, how can you reconcile such bias?”

Lucius shook his head in mock sadness. The bloated ego remark he let go as it perhaps had some validity. A self-deprecatory smile briefly lifted the edge of his lips, blunting his anger. Bloated was an extreme adjective, but he would say he definitely had a healthy ego. If he hadn’t, his new, petite wife would have been Crucio’d several times by now for her incessant attacks on his pride, lifestyle, and heritage.

Hermione gritted her teeth, “Lucky for you, you won’t be called upon to pretend a great passion for me, seeing as how I’m no goddess to look at.”

“No,” he said, resignation heavy in his voice, his previous anger now totally dissipated, “I won’t be called upon to pretend a passion for you. You don’t call upon me for anything.” He turned for the door, “Just tell the elves what to do for dinner. I’ll be in my study.”

Hermione was left standing there fuming. She whisked to her sitting room and sat at her desk drumming her fingers on the wood, ignoring a curled-up Crookshanks on the balcony basking in the sunlight as he tracked various possible feathered victims on the branches of a nearby tree.

How had that happened? He’d bested her in an argument and managed to make her feel like a toothless, old hag nearly in the same sentence. She couldn’t decide which made her angrier. It was nearly unbearable that her horrible husband had defeated her with logic.

And just as bad, he’d left her with a squirmy feeling that she had been in the wrong. The man infuriated her; his very nearness seemed somehow to strip the veneer of civilization from her, bringing forth emotions more and more deeply seated and visceral until she wanted to scratch him, claw and bite… ah, she had bitten him…and clawed him. His effect on her was unnerving, as though ants crawled under her skin. She wanted to scream at him to stop making her feel so out of control. Hermione drew an uneven breath, trying to calm herself.

And what did he mean, she never called upon him for anything? Hadn’t she asked about the clothing from Madam Malkin’s? Hermione hurriedly pushed that thought away, remembering what she’d done with that wardrobe offer.

Well, she was going to ask him about this stupid dinner party he’d flung her into and he’d better have some good answers. Tell the elves indeed! she ranted silently. He had left her with no directions for what amounted to a society entertainment. How was she to know what to do?

Hermione jumped up and paced her sitting room in agitation. She had absolutely no interest in hobnobbing with the Snapes. Her husband was apparently as tight with that couple as bad breath on a hellhound. Where did that leave her, the Gryffindor with the plebeian background? The dinner would be a nightmare!

She sat down then popped up from her desk again in a righteous snit and headed for her husband’s study. A brief knock and a “Come” had her entering her mate’s inner sanctum once again.

Hermione stomped across the expanse of the study and took up a challenging pose in front of his desk. “Lucius, I don’t know what to tell the elves to prepare. Do the Snapes have some preferences for food? Can I leave the meal to the elves to decide? You expect me to perform miracles given no information, then rail at me when I fail. I wasn’t brought up in your rarified stratum so you’ll have to forgive my ignorance of your refined ways.”

Sarcasm fairly oozed out of the little witch as she continued, “Also, I would appreciate having some input into making decisions on invitations if I am then supposed to organize them. In other words, if you want me to show up at the dinner table, ask me before extending invitations.”

Lucius sat still as Hermione’s displeasure washed over him. Yet another difference between her and Narcissa. He had often chosen to invite guests and only announced it to Narcissa after the fact. Was that another way he had disappointed his ex? Lucius felt as though he was always failing to do things correctly to hear Hermione talk. She certainly wasn’t the only one feeling a failure.

Hermione stood impatiently, listening as Lucius delivered his brief, quietly proffered advice concerning their expected guests in a weary tone then, offering no thanks to the man who she felt had set her up, swept out of his study as peremptorily as she had come, to consult with the elves in charge of the kitchen. She then left the meal in their hands.

Hermione had no idea if she was supposed to dress formally or attend in a bikini, but wouldn’t lower herself to ask her husband any more questions. She decided to show up in one of the dinner gowns Lucius had provided through Madam Malkin. She didn’t want to admit to herself she was afraid of meeting Lucius’ ex-wife.

Having Snape as an interested observer to her likely failure as a hostess made her cringe, an echo of her student days suffering under his tutelage rising to further undermine her confidence. She was certain Snape had been to dinner parties in the Malfoy mansion before. He, too, would know that Hermione wasn’t measuring up. She firmly pushed that feeling away again as unworthy of her adulthood, but the increasing panic of meeting Narcissa remained.

~~~~

The little witch restlessly paced her sitting room off and on all afternoon. She hated to fail at anything. Her dismal marriage was weighing on her more and more and she didn’t know what to do to halt the slow downward spiral of her relationship with her husband. His supercilious, pedantic attitude brought out the worst in her, making her feel always lacking.

She retaliated knowing her words would push him further away. Was it what she wanted? He was infuriating with his constant corrections and he was so…so Slytherin. They had never been her favorite people and he typified the type. Too devious by half. Plus, he had railroaded her into the marriage in the first place only to keep his stupid investments on form somehow while he investigated some nebulous conspiracy against Purebloods or some such. She was to be his sex toy at Hogwarts as he tried to fix what was happening to the Purebloods.

Her only consolation in the whole mess was the regular, overwhelming sex he supplied, which managed to blot out her basic puppet role for a few hours at a time. He was very good at sex and she abjectly knew she was hovering close to being addicted to his expertise. She wondered if his demonstrations of oral sex were going to be the most adventurous he got.

The little witch hoped he wouldn’t want her to return the favor – she balked at being that intimate with a man who didn’t really want her as a person and the idea didn’t appeal, anyway. Surprisingly, he had so far never asked for oral sex for himself. Hermione supposed he wanted to keep his intimate distance, too. Perhaps he was worried she might bite – the possibility tickled her.

If Hermione could have peered into her husband’s mind, she would’ve known she was absolutely correct that Lucius wasn’t going to ask for what was never freely offered and her reasoning was quite accurate. He had toyed with the attractive philosophy that he could demand fellatio as her husband, but jettisoned the idea as ludicrous. Even the command sounded trite, Kneel and suck my cock! As if she would! Lucius snorted at his mental vision of that fiasco. Then what would he do? Force her to her knees? Pry open her lips? Put his tender, sensitive tool between those lips with her teeth waiting for him? Lucius snorted again. No, he was neither going to ask for nor demand that particular service at this point in their marriage.

~~~~

That evening Lucius came to her bedroom to accompany her to the dining room and he held out a flat black velvet case. “These should look perfect with your dress.” He opened the case and Hermione saw lying on the black silk interior a delicate diamond necklace made of large stones as the centers of platinum flowers that dotted the entire length in a vine pattern with smaller emeralds as the greenery tracings, plus a matching set of earrings that repeated the leaf design in a smaller version. A matching hair ornament completed the parure.

Hermione looked at the set, awe-struck, before a certain jaundiced thought took over. What did he want now? She wasn’t stupid enough to ask, but it depressed her to think his gift was a means to an end. Her level of trust for this handsome man was as thin as new ice on a pond and just about as durable. The idea of Greeks bearing gifts flitted through her mind.

“Do you like them?” Lucius asked, when Hermione’s silenced dragged the moment out too long. He was beginning to feel a little foolish standing there with the open case.

“They’re beautiful, Lucius,” she finally replied and forced a smile for his benefit.

When she made no attempt to take the case or ask him to put the necklace on her, he decided it was a Muggleborn hesitance at being gifted with fine jewels. He set the case on her bureau, assuming she didn’t want him touching her, but he hoped the jewels might help her find more confidence for the dinner party – in his mind he was in effect saying he supported her.

“Our guests will be here soon.” He nodded at her ensemble, “You look quite lovely.’ After another awkward silence, Lucius cravenly decided to flee, “Please excuse me while I go down now and make sure the elves have seen to everything.” Lucius glided over to the door of her bedroom and slipped away into the main upstairs hall, missing the sudden flare of irritation that appeared in his wife’s eyes.

Now he was insulting her by assuming he had to oversee her preparations for the dinner party? As though she hadn’t been down in the dining room and the smaller, family drawing room just an hour ago to make certain all was the way he had decreed. It didn’t occur to her that he might just want to escape the awkward situation where his gift was so poorly received. For all she saw him as something of a villain, she also saw him as larger than life and above her in many ways so she missed the simple fact that he was just a man with human feelings.

Lucius entered the dining room just to be able to say he’d been there, but he never bothered to inspect the arrangements. Instead, he whisked to his study for a before-dinner firewhiskey. He had a premonition he was going to need it.

tbc...

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I know most of you would jump into bed with Lucius even if he'd been a serial killer (and it's possible he does have a great deal of blood on his hands), but Hermione actually lived through that horrific time; she'll come around, but it will take her some time.

Don't forget the pics for this chapter at:

http://labibliographe.livejournal.com/50355.html


Now...
Lucius has a wardrobe of role-playing clothes. If you could dress Lucius in any costume, what would you pick? (Let's all assume naked would be first choice and go from there...)

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