The Wedding - COMPLETE

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Updated 3-17-07


Replies to my reviewers and thank you for your continued support:

First, Gaps, I forgot to ask before - what does "he’s not able to jump over his own shadow" mean exactly? It's not in my local culture.

Hermione Malfoy, Ginny and then Severus will appear a bit later. Don't worry...

Crinna you SO get my Lucius and your thesis would do both him and Hermione proud!

Ancientgirl I agree it was a big step for Lucius to understand he had overstepped with his lack of sensitivity in the bedroom. He's learning...slowly.

angelnomiko I think this chapter may answer if Hermione's distancing herself from Lucius.

pumkin I'm happy you think the last chapter was done tastefully. That's important to me. I don't think the words 'high class' and 'smut' are mutually exclusive.

DB1, J, and catysmom I very much appreciate your encouragement.

lemonade I agree, I think they are both happy now. For awhile...

dragon37 I suspect Lucius would happily hand you his black vibrator if you wanted to repeat Hermione's actions.

JW I just felt it was time remove the money problem from between Hermione and Lucius. they've got enough problems without Lucius feeling financially gelded in his marriage. However, I'm sure they're both going to be on the same page with taking care of any children monetarily.


999 Actually I do love Lucius as a bad boy (not hard to tell from my stories)and I certainly prefer a strong Hermione - no doormats in my plots.

Lustblood Yeah! What you said. I don't want to be too vindictive. My characters ARE trying to fall in love (after numerous chapters, lol) And are you reading my story when it's still in my head? Scratching will come up, heh, heh.

So, on with the show! Slip on your dancing shoes..

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Chapter Seventeen


Invitation to the Dance


Several days later, Hermione was getting restless staying on the estate and wanted to do something. She had been unobtrusively keeping her husband company, mostly feeling guilty for leaving the estate now, unless he had a chance to go too. Lucius hadn’t called her back to his bedroom and she couldn’t initiate sex according to his rules. She was moodily putting the finishing touches on a bouquet of yellow roses for the foyer while trying to come up with a scheme to have more time with her husband in a way he wouldn’t object to, even though it might be her idea to be together.


A daring idea came to her and she acted on it immediately. She whisked to Lucius’ study door and knocked quietly. When she heard the command to enter, she slipped into the room and went over to her husband at his desk. Hermione liked his prim look with his hair pulled back into a black grosgrain ribbon ponytail and a white-collared shirt with his sleeves rolled up his trim, toned forearms. His cool, contained look made him look hot. She said without preamble, “Lucius, can we go dancing?”


Lucius put down his quill and swiveled fully on his chair toward his wife. “Have we been invited somewhere? The Ministry doesn’t have anything planned that I know of.” Lucius had been completely absorbed for the past few days with end of quarter earnings opportunities for the Ministry and hadn’t taken time out for any personal pleasure with his wife, instead spending long hours at his desk. The dance sounded interesting.


The question hung in the air for a moment as Hermione got up her courage. “Lucius, I’d like to take you dancing in the Muggle world. There’s a great club in London that I’m pretty sure you’d like. You do like to dance, don’t you?”


Lucius gaped at his wife. “In the Muggle world? Is this a joke?”


“Actually, no. As a Muggleborn, I’m familiar with the Muggle world and I visit it occasionally. I’d like it if you would go with me sometimes. I know you despise that world, but you actually don’t know much about it. For you it’s more a matter of principle than enmity based on personal experience. From this point on, your Muggle-hating, Pureblood principles are going to be completely anachronistic in the magic world, so I’d like to show you a bit of my second home, and maybe you’ll learn to appreciate parts of it in time. So, anyway, I’d like to go dancing with you.” Hermione looked at him with her big, pleading chocolate eyes. “Please?”


Lucius was torn. He definitely had no interest in contaminating himself with anything in the Muggle world, but his little wife had shown him unbelievable generosity with his fortune and brought him intense pleasure with her willingness to give him anal sex, even bringing a Muggle toy to do it. He had to admit that toy was spectacular; Hermione had delivered a black one to him only the day before. He was hoping Hermione would accommodate him again, but he hadn’t asked her yet. If he turned down her request to go dancing, she might not be as amenable to his desires. Weighing his bedroom pleasures against a night spent in a Muggle dance club, he reluctantly decided he should acquiesce to Hermione’s request. She’d be much more likely to play with the black vibrator if he went. He held back his final acceptance by first asking, “What does one wear to this club?”


“Just casual clothes, a little sexy, for dancing. We could go tonight if that’s okay with you. It’s Saturday, so the club should be hopping.”


“Hopping? Is that how Muggles dance? They hop? Is it anything like our waltz where the man lifts the woman briefly?” Lucius really was not happy to be put into a situation that was totally foreign to him, but he did feel hopeful about her wish to spend time with him. Perhaps the return of his fortune didn’t signal her lessening interest in their marriage and he was seeing rejection where it didn’t exist.


Hermione laughed, thinking about Lucius in the club. “No, Muggle dancing is a lot more like making love. I’m sure you’ll do very well. You have all the right moves already in your repertoire. You just do them standing up instead of lying down.” She was envisioning Lucius on the dance floor with her, snuggled together for the slow dances. She just knew steam was coming up from under her skirts already and her olfactory sense was working overtime pulling in her spouse’s erotic scent. She really shouldn’t stand so close to him; maybe just one more inhalation, then she would definitely step back. A little.


Lucius was dismayed, “I’m not performing standup sex in public on a dance floor. Have you done that? No wonder the Muggles are our enemies. They’re totally depraved.”


Hermione just laughed. “It’s not quite like that although I’ve seen a few couples come close on the dance floor.” She hoped she and Lucius would be one of them before the night was through. Thinking about watching him move his gorgeous, lithe body in time to a primal beat was having its typical effect. She wanted to remove the proper little ribbon from his hair and rub those long, soft blond locks all over her body. Hermione took a deep breath of undiluted Lucius and tried to pull her misbehaving mind back on track. Time enough for that little fantasy to come true when they came home from the dance. “And I’m not your enemy. Just try it once, Lucius. For me? I’ll be very appreciative.” She knew she was implying her cooperation for more of Lucius’ bed games, but it would be worth it for an evening of her Golden Stud in the Muggle world, dancing.


Lucius could detect his wife’s suddenly awakened arousal in her increased special scent and its aphrodisiacal power coerced him to reluctantly capitulate to her request. He turned back around sliding his lap under his desk before Hermione could see his burgeoning erection. He was definitely going to cash in on her future ‘appreciation’ by soliciting less resistance to his sexual variations. “Very well,” he sighed, looking over his shoulder. I’ll meet you in the foyer and you can apparate us to this club. What time?”


She hurriedly answered before her husband could change his mind, “Great. I’ll meet you in the foyer at nine PM.” Hermione raced back out of the study door, leaving a disgruntled husband with an unusable erection to distractedly chew on the end of his quill, ruining it and making his lips black.

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Promptly at nine that evening, Lucius apparated to his foyer ready to leave, with his cape already clasped at his neck and firmly buttoned. The evenings were drawing in and had become a bit chill as a mild summer slowly morphed into a cooler fall.


Hermione was already there bundled up waiting for him. She swiftly put her arms around him, surreptitiously filling her lungs with his unique male scent, and apparated them to an alley close by the club, so no one could see them appear. She shepherded Lucius out of the alley onto the street and walked with him a block away to the front door of the nightclub. Hermione offered the man at the door some Muggle money while Lucius stood by, raising his eyebrow at her giving this strange man money just to go into a noisy, alcoholic-smelling, dark building where the lights were few and far between and didn’t work very well, going on and off in an unsettling pattern of colors.


Inside, a very large room was packed with people, mostly very young like Hermione, but a few were older, maybe in their thirties. He felt a bit out of place in this crowd of youngsters and was initially sorry he had agreed to go, even for the possibility of the black sex toy. But she had been right about one thing. The dancing looked very much like they were making love standing up. The dance number was loud and fast with a strong beat, and the movements of the dancers bordered on illegal in his world. In spite of himself, Lucius started to enjoy it. There were a lot of aroused females if his nose was any judge.


Hermione led him over to a side counter where she took off her cape and caused him to have a minor meltdown at seeing her dress. It was not too different from the dresses out on the dance floor which Lucius had been appreciating, but this was his wife. He hadn’t even known she owned a dress like that. It was shimmering green with little thin straps holding up the banded bodice of some stretchy material that was shoving up her breasts. The skirt barely covered her ass. She wore some kind of glittery stockings that ran all the way up her legs, immediately tempting him to find out where they ended. Her sexy stilettos finished off her outfit and he knew he’d remember those shoes all his life. Lucius couldn’t help smiling at the memory.


Hermione saw his smile and where his eyes were glued and she felt a reddening flush cover her body. She knew he was reliving her little erotic performance with the stool and how he had taught her who was the dominant one in his bed. Her knickers weren’t up to the task of blotting her body’s recall of that night. She had to stop her visceral reaction to her husband’s gaze before her sheer stockings glittered from more than just a bit of metallic thread. To retrain his eyes upward, Hermione imperiously held out her hand and said, “We need to check our capes so we can dance. We can leave them here for the evening.”


She turned and pointed to the check stand, smiling at the check girl. Hermione soon discovered the check girl wasn’t focused on her at all; she was goggling at something behind Hermione. Hermione turned back around to Lucius to see he’d discarded his cape and was standing there wearing clothing straight out of a pirate movie. Her jaw dropped to her chest as she gazed at the most overtly sexual male she’d ever seen.


Lucius wore a black silk collarless shirt, open from the neck to mid-chest. Material billowed out from deep cuffs and up his arms, settling at his wide shoulders lovingly. The rest of the shirt hugged his chest, showing off golden skin and a sculpted torso. Under a tight-fitting, low-cut black brocade waistcoat that pointed out the slim, thoroughly masculine waist that Hermione loved to slide her hands around, the shirt tucked into black skintight knit pants that declared his butt a masterpiece and shocked Hermione with the blatant advertisement of his impressive masculine equipment. Oh Gods, she remembered he didn’t like underwear.


Hermione clapped her hand over her eyes, then peeked again hoping his outfit was different. Nope. Merlin’s balls! He’d never worn anything like that at Hogwarts. Lucius turned toward the checkstand girl and Hermione caught the swaying movement of that long, blond hair of his enticingly slipping over his muscled shoulders and she moaned under her breath. This man exuded sex like the La Brea Tar Pits exuded tar. No wonder countless women had fallen into his sexual snare and been trapped there at his mercy. He was a living, breathing incubus.


Suddenly Hermione wanted Lucius to put his cape back on so they could leave. Bringing him to a nightclub full of beautiful, young women on the make had been a colossal mistake. She was sure her poor heartmuscle wasn’t up to his blatant display – even she couldn’t seem to keep her eyes above his waistband. Oh, Gods, she wanted to push him into a broom closet immediately – she’d be happy to use the broomstick on him, if the rest of that glorious package could be shoved into her. Those skintight pants ended in black leather boots that went nearly up to his knees, molding his firm calves. THIS was not casual clothing. Why had she not thought to check his wardrobe for a Muggle night out? Belatedly she realized she’d never seen him in a pair of jeans or casual pants.


Lucius, meantime, saw the reaction of the checkstand girl, and smiled slyly at her, causing her to drop Hermione’s cape on the floor. He knew he didn’t look like the rest of the males dancing on the floor, but he was clever enough to know he had an advantage that way. He didn’t work out for two hours every day so he could look like Cornelius Fudge, or even Arthur Weasley. He smiled to himself. This was Muggle territory but he knew a sex-hunting ground when he saw one. Women adored a man who looked like he was going to ravish them given half a chance - and had the equipment to do it. He looked back at his wife and got just what he had been angling for. She was hypnotized by the outfit - well, the south end of the outfit. This was going to be an excellent evening out.


“Lucius! You look like a pirate from a Muggle movie. I’m not going to ask where your cutlass is. I can see you definitely brought it with you,” Hermione said through a blazing blush and clenched teeth.


“I didn’t know what to wear with Muggles so I looked through your bedside reading and found a book cover with this type of clothing on the male. I just copied it.” Lucius knew precisely to a bat’s eyelash what he’d accomplished with his clothing. And it was all aimed at his wife. Lucius knew women from their soft, scented hair down to their pretty, painted toenails. Hermione was in way over her head in the sex arena with Lucius. Lucius hadn’t quite figured all the angles, though. Young Muggle females were not shy and the first one who saw Lucius squealed her delight and rushed over to stand practically on his boots, looking rapturously up at him. Then down at him. When she looked back up at him her eyes were slightly glazed. “Dance with me, hero. I need to feel your arms around me.” She trailed her hand down his chest only stopping at his waist because Lucius caught her hand in his.


He looked down enigmatically at the young woman, seeing an elegant, cool blond like himself, but her eyes were a cornflower blue and just now fastened on his face, smiling beguilingly at him, confident of her allure. She was taller than his wife and more buxom, wearing a navy blue and silver patterned tube top and a tiny navy skirt. Her stockings were silvery and so were her heels. She sidled up to Lucius closing what was left of the space between them, whispering, “Dance with me and I’ll please you in return.” She gave a small shimmy against Lucius and lifted his hand holding hers, putting it on her heart just above her breasts and caressing herself with it.


Hermione never knew what her husband would have said to the blonde bitch, because two more women came over and surrounded him. They all looked at him like he was a prime cut of meat and from the gazes that kept returning south, Hermione figured they especially liked salami. But it looked like Lucius was in his element. The blonde tried to disengage Lucius from the other two, but Hermione stepped into her path, impeding her escape.


Lucius had thoroughly enjoyed the attentions of the crowding females, but was waiting to see what his wife would do to help him. Or would she bother? Suddenly he felt a pain in his heart worrying that he would find out something he’d rather not know - his wife didn’t care about him. Lucius’ fan club was pressing against him and Hermione was moving in through the fast-increasing group. Lucius felt a small hand pinch his rear and then start petting it. He reached down in outrage and grabbed the hand, intending to upbraid the brassy bitch. In total surprise, he pulled up the hand of – “Hermione?”


“Well, darling, are you ready to dance? Perhaps you can bid these ladies goodbye and come onto the dance floor with me. I want you and I’m not going to wait all night.” Somehow Hermione managed to smile at Lucius at the same time as she was doling out ominous glares to the women. Reluctantly, they backed away just enough for him to move toward his wife. Hermione held up his hand so his wedding ring shone brightly in the spotlight over the checkstand as she cleared her way through the disappointed females.


Lucius didn’t want Hermione to know just how much her intervention meant to him. He smiled at the women, but stepped more closely to Hermione placing his hand on the nape of her neck to steer her onto the dance floor. Behind him several loud sighs gusted from disappointed carmine lips.


Lucius drew Hermione into his embrace even though the song was a faster tempo. He languorously circled his hips against hers as they rotated to the bold, potent beat, dancing about half as fast as the gyrating couples around them. He wound his fingers into her curly locks holding her face so she would have to look up at him. “Muggle women are certainly pushy. I’m glad you saved me.”


Hermione searched his face, “Are you, Lucius? They were pretty much all willing to have your babies. Or at least help you practice.”


“Hermione, I’ve been practicing for years and years. It’s gotten more than old. Have you heard the phrase, ‘In the dark, all kneazles are gray?’ Well, that applies to this type of woman too. If you’re disgusted by my opinion, I’m sorry, but I’ve spent too many years ‘dancing’ with those women. Now I only want to dance with you.”


Lucius leaned down and lightly touched his lips to hers, sighing in contentment. He lifted his head again and stared at his wife; his eyes had gone gray foggy color and Hermione knew that color signaled he was happy. Then he just gave her a peaceful smile and pulled her against him, wrapping his arms over her shoulders and resting his cheek on the crown of her head, enjoying the softness of her curls.


Hermione boldly put her hands on his derriere right where she had pinched him before, but this time she just rested her hands there as she leaned into her husband’s chest. She inhaled his special seductive essence and softly rubbed her cheek on his black silk shirt, then she nipped his pec with her teeth.


Lucius retreated a few millimeters from Hermione and looked down at her, seeing the devil peek from her eyes. “You do know you’re playing with fire,” he inquired returning look for look.


Hermione just said, “Mmmmm,” and started rubbing his backside, pulling him into the cradle of her hips where she discovered he was affected by their version of dancing too. “I guess you don’t want to leave the dance floor just yet. Your pants are a mite tight, and I’m pretty sure everyone would notice things are rather stirred up in them right now.”


Lucius laughed, “My dear Mrs. Malfoy, I’ve worn this package for many years and believe me, I never go unnoticed no matter if things are stirred up or not. I’d only be safe if I wore my robes. I do tend to favor them in public for that reason.


“Unless you’re trolling for trollops,” Hermione sourly supposed, pinching his butt again in punishment, then soothing the sting with brazenly lascivious squeezes.


“Is this jealousy? Now, Hermione, be nice,” Lucius intoned with an impudent grin, returning her words to her, ‘I hardly even know you’”. “Except, of course, carnally. I’m working as hard as I can on that.”


“Keep it up, Blondbeard, and you’ll be walking the plank before the night is through.” Hermione didn’t want him to see her jealousy. Unfortunately, it felt a lot like it even to her.


“Oh, actually, I rather think you’ll be licking my plank. Pirate’s promise. But who the hell is Blondbeard?”


Hermione snuggled into her husband’s close embrace, whispering into his silk-covered chest, “A rapacious Muggle brigand who stole defenseless women and relieved them of their virtue.” She didn’t bother to explain her slight change to the Muggle historical name.


“Then I can’t be anything like him, if you’re involved. First, you’re the least defenseless woman I’ve ever met. Second, someone else already relieved you of your virtue before I ever met you. Thank the Gods. I truly have no use for virgins. Watering pots and recriminations. And NO imagination. Give me a woman with a purple cock any day. Ouch! Dammit, witch, I’m going to be black and blue there before the night is finished.” Lucius ruefully rubbed his smarting backside. “I rest my case on the defenseless part.”


He pulled her up against him even more tightly, and caught her mouth with his, teaching her right on the dance floor that she had no defense against the magic of his tongue. The club was so murky, and everyone else was so engrossed in their own seductions, that no one except for a few wistful females saw his display of passionate, male supremacy.


But Hermione felt it down to her Scarlet Temptress toenails. She was feeling his delicious tyranny so badly she almost threw discretion to the wind and wrapped her legs around his tapered waist. Only the certainty that his waistcoat would be drenched in her overflowing juices kept her from acting on her desire. That stupid, white lace thong wasn’t sopping up anything at all. Next time she’d better just stuff a towel in her pantyhose and be done with it.


As Lucius continued to kiss her, but relaxed his hold to massage her nape, Hermione’s breathing became erratic and she decided he should suffer right along with her. She slid one little hand down from his butt where she had been happily smoothing his bruises, and darted it to his crotch, finding and measuring an impressive hard-on. That wasn’t enough, so she found the tip using Braille and squeezed it between her finger and thumb, eliciting an involuntary jerk of his hips into hers. Then she did it again for good measure.


Lucius growled, low in his throat, and stopped kissing her to shoot a feral, dangerous glance down at her. He got a bold, defiant come-make-me stare in return. “I see you do want to be burned, don’t you, little witch? You realize you’re coming very close to usurping my territory again. That carries stiff penalties, Mrs. Malfoy. You’re feeling up the biggest one right now.”


Lucius started dragging Hermione toward the checkstand. He didn’t care if anyone saw his reaction to his wife and a great many feminine eyes were trained just on that spot. The checkstand girl reluctantly returned their capes, sighing with regret when Lucius put his on. He’d made her boring job into a personal fantasy that would entertain her for months in her lonely bedroom.


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So, is our favorite couple getting along better? Are they discovering a few attractive features about each other? Will this amity last? Check back for the next chapter - and in the meantime, I'd adore some reviews to spur me on.

And belatedly, here is a pic that may add to your visual imagination of what the Muggle females saw at the club when Lucius took off his cape, although my imagination was more generous to Lucius. 8-)

http://www.portraitplanet.com/pirateguy.jpg
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