Deception

‘Mistress would like to speak to Sir,’

Irritated, he nevertheless reached for the little mirror, issuing a firm command, ‘Tell your Mistress that I am occupied.’ 

‘Yes Master,’ Came the voice of his house elf.

‘What is it?’ A soft, throaty feminine voice whispered.

Lucius was removing his clothing, having just returned from a visit to his home.  He did not like to apparate directly here, because magic could be tracked, and so traveled by muggle conveyance. Even though he loathed it, hated it...but even he was forced to recognize his own vulnerability.

He had many enemies who were angry that he was not punished after the war.  Of course, that was because Lucius had an above-average cunning.

Bust still....

It never hurt to be too-cautious.  He might have money in excess but he lacked the support base that once rendered him untouchable.  He disliked this new reality, but it was his way to do what was necessary to survive.

More importantly,   he did this not only for his own protection, but for the protection of his...what was she?  His mistress, he supposed though it did little justice to what existed between them.  Binding them together. 

‘Nothing of your concern.’  His voice came out sharp, and he immediately felt her withdraw.

He winced at his tone of voice.  He had not employed that tone for months.  He hadn’t had cause to.  Or even wanted to.

The birth of their children had made her far more pliable…and resulted in a much improved relationship. 

He could never say it, could only express it physically, but he sensed she was aware of the intensity of his feelings for her.

‘Forgive me,’ he quietly said, crawling naked into bed beside her.  Her little body was so warm, and he pulled her tightly against his chest.

She did not turn, but he felt her relax.

‘I’m sorry.  I know you don’t like it when I pry.’

Now he felt really guilty.

He lightly ran his fingers over her chest, toying with her nipples.  One good thing about childbirth was that her breasts became fuller, her body more feminine.  Less waif-like. 

‘Narcissa craves attention.  Sometimes I do not fulfill that need.’

She placed her  hand on top of his.  ‘Are you very angry?’

He kissed the back of her neck, ‘No.’

He felt her tremble in response.  ‘Are you going to touch me?’

His cock twitched before lengthening.  Thickening.  Becoming hard.

‘Would you like that?’

Ginny rolled over to face him and smiled slightly.  She retained that youthful, girlish face still but at least her body had achieved a level of maturity that left him feeling less perverse. It was satisfying that his veela connection gave him a beauty that defied aging, it seemed.  He still looked to be in his thirties despite the fact that he was more than twice the girl's age. 

When he first seized her...

He ignored that brutal memory.

The past was past.  Nothing could change that.

At least she accepted her place beside him.  It made it easier...so much easier.

As if to confirm this, she whispered, 'Yes...I would like that...'

He pulled her closer. 

Narcissa, and everyone else, could go to hell.