The Taming of the Shrew - Wizard Style - COMPLETE

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10-9-09 F

Ahhh! Mea culpa!! There was an ambiguous pronoun in the chapter that gave you, the reader, an incorrect impression. I’ve fixed it now. THANK YOU to Katiekrm for bringing it to my attention!

~~~ Narcissa said, “Sev and I thought he needed to be married again, but to someone who suited him better. Then he found you. Lucius is ever so much more relaxed now. Severus and I can both see it.” I changed the sentence to say, “Sev and I thought he needed to be married again, but to someone who suited him better. Then LUCIUS found you. HE is ever so much more relaxed now. Severus and I can both see it.”~~~

So to recap and explain: You, the reader, know Severus got her marriage contract and herded Lucius into marrying her, but Hermione only knows that Severus stood up for Lucius at the wedding ceremony. Hermione has NO IDEA it was Severus who found Hermione’s contract. She thinks Lucius did. Narcissa only said she and Sev thought Lucius should be married again and LUCIUS found Hermione. Narcissa does NOT know about her husband’s involvement (i.e., finding Hermione’s contract and throwing Lucius into the marriage at the Governors’ meeting). Narcissa only sees a hopeful new marriage for Lucius.


Some answers to reviews -

BeaBibliophile – I understand the time it takes to revamp a story. I’m doing it for this story. I’m glad you’re liking Narcissa. I think she complements Snape in many ways. You don’t know how hard it was to pull back on the reins and NOT descend into a Snucius story. You can imagine yourself as a wizard sandwich-what would you use for mayo?

Rini – Lucius tight pants…yes. Lucius NO pants, even better (see this next chapter). Shared baths are so civilizing…

Jw – I’m glad to know the responses to all the comments add some value. I do let a few things out here and there in them as well as trying to broaden the characterizations. Hermione gets plenty of sex – just not if she’s commandeered a spanking.

Pittwitch – Hey Pitt! Yes, Narcissa can never be separated from Draco, and neither can Lucius, so Hermione may have a bit of a struggle later on. Hermione hasn’t met a Slytherin she can’t outwit – maybe until now. At least Narcissa has given her a bit to think about in her private relationship with Lucius. Narcissa really wants Lucius to have a happy marriage and is trying to make it happen for him – hence the hen talk. Snape is a true friend to Lucius, but it doesn’t mean he won’t tell him home truths. Hermione IS surprised at Lucius’ wish for a happy marriage. His definition might be different than hers, however. He is a bit more set in his ways.

katiekrm – If you read the top of this post you know you helped to unmuddy a poorly placed pronoun. Hermione may feel spineless to you still, but she isn’t quite as bad as that pronoun made her sound. It isn’t only the Voldie-supporter Purebloods who are affected, it is all Purebloods, so conceivably the Weasleys might be victimized, too. I suppose this particular story does require a reader to initially accept some characters as acting less than nobly or even with a worrisome lack of self-esteem, covered by belligerence, for now. I figure you know that Lucius and Hermione do come to terms with each other and that I always have a happy ending.

Re making you scream with vexation - I want to entertain, but not shoot your blood pressure into the stratosphere while I’m doing it. It may cost you a few numbing firewhiskeys along the way, while I untangle the personal and wizarding world messes intrinsic to this tale. (Lucius has a lovely cut crystal decanter set he’s willing to loan you as you read. It’s filled with the best, aged firewhiskey.) If you wonder why you’re still reading, I want you to know you’ve already had me redoing some of the later chapters; I think they’re better for your input.

Insolence - Welcome to AFF, although it appears this Lumione story may send you packing again in irritation LOL. Narcissa does weave (rather obliquely) through this tale, but she is a secondary character and thus gets much less attention than Lucius or Hermione, or even Snape. This story will definitely finish, so never fear, the posts are assured.

Lilashannah – Exactly right. Can’t lose sight of William Shakespeare’s original tale with the shrew and the ‘hero’ looking out for his fortune. Yes, Hermione has her work cut out for her because Lucius isn’t much of a touchy-feely person, psychologically. Physically, he’s peerless, so she is getting something out of her marriage. 8-)

HarryGinny4eva – Yes, just a glimmer that Lucius may be waking up to a slight sensitivity for his wife’s feelings, but only as they relate to his own marital agenda, so far. He has a few lessons to learn yet. Well, and so does Hermione. Lucius would never bare his innermost feelings; he guards them so closely that he’s less sensitive to others in return. Hermione has had to be the strong one for so long that she has trouble letting go of the reins and trusting anyone else. The fact that it is Lucius Malfoy taking over makes it all the worse. The trust level there is minimal. Luckily(?) the physical attraction between them is off the charts. How did you know there was a submerged lemon in the next chapter (wink)?

alecto – Hey, alecto! Thank you. 8-)

Cat – I’m so happy you found this story and are enjoying it. I’m honored I’m on your watch list! (And thank you for delurking for the nod.)

Chrisdavis – It will be my pleasure to supply you with more and I’m glad you like the story. Lemon coming up.

Aleysiasnape – Yes, Lucius is sloooowly waking up to the understanding that he has several fires to put out with Hermione, as well as the mounting conflagration of his financial empire. Poor fellow, beset on all sides.

Anon – Insofar as I was modeling this story on the original “Taming of the Shrew”, I suppose the answer to Hermione being ‘petty’ is…hmm… not so much petty as spitting mad at being coerced and forced into a marriage she didn’t want. I don’t see her as an innately gentle person so much as a female warrior in a petite body. She’s been thrust into a marriage and foreign stratum of wizarding life that she’s mostly seen as wicked in the past, filled with folk who wanted her sort to be ousted from their world. No wonder she doesn’t trust Lucius, no matter he’s shown her what she likes in bed. I imagine she’s reacting to perceived injustices and injuries that she worries are just around the corner. She doesn’t need much imagination to know what horrible things could happen to her in a Pureblood stronghold – she’s seen it before. Had it happen to her before. Lucius knows he’s not going to hurt her, but she doesn’t. Unfortunately, he’s so frazzled with the real possibility of his wealth disintegrating under the unknown menace that Hermione’s worries aren’t his first concern – plus, in his head, he’s now responsible for her future too, as a Malfoy. Instead, all he sees is a nightly ticket to her bedchamber where he’s beginning to feel like a stud servicing her. The situation has made both of them less than polite and civil. Hermione is angry and Lucius is remote. Hermione does need a wake up call. This is a long story and both she and Lucius are happy at the end. Can you give her some time to be more like you want her to be? I hope? I appreciate your question very much.

Sirsevchick – I agree that Lucius isn’t as prejudicial as he used to be. Those prejudices nearly cost him his son and it broke apart his family. It was a painful lesson that he finally learned. Mostly. I think Hermione will ultimately complete his education. In the meantime, neither Lucius nor Hermione wants to open up completely to the other. There is little incentive at this point.

Voracious Reader - The dinner turned out to be girl-to-girl and boy-to-boy and both Hermione and Lucius profited from inviting the Snapes over.

Serin Blackmoon – From your comment to my next chapter. That tub becomes an interesting place, however, Hogwarts wasn’t built in a day. Maybe a bit of communication among the bubbles?

word wench – Hello! Welcome! I don’t think you have anything to worry about in what to review. I loved your contribution. Thank you!

blue artemis – I’m well known for not liking Narcissa and this time I wanted to get past that for myself. I like this Narcissa, too. I especially like that she’s not married to Lucius so I can write him with Hermione LOL. Narcissa and Snape fit together in a weird way, but warm and comfortable and loving. Maybe our two newlyweds will find some common ground in the bathwater.

DragonFyre – Lucius and Snape are a real pair, aren’t they. Those two characters, while never being overt friends in canon, just have that chemistry together (not necessarily sexual, just an obvious duo). No, I never had a crush on Batman. Now, Aquaman… We both know Hermione will someday find Lucius irresistible, but that will take some more chapters LOL.

Citten – No, Citten! No, no! I don’t think of you as a lurker! I actually cut chapters when they get to a ballpark figure of word count, while trying to find a decent place to cut. In this story there have been some cliffies, but I don’t try to create them. (Hmm, do I hear disbelieving snorts from other readers in the background?) Narcissa is a sweet character and Snape deserves her after his terrible life, first at Hogwarts, then as a Death Eater. Hermione and Lucius in the tub will soak out some frustration. And of course, I’ll love to hear from you again. 8-)

ebonyeyez1 – Hermione hasn’t had a great deal of experience with jealousy. Her last bout was with Lavender, so this feeling has blindsided her, especially as she didn’t think she would feel anything remotely like that about Lucius. Since she is holding him off except for sex, it will be a bit difficult for him to soothe Hermione’s feelings, even if he had the faintest clue how to do it

Snapes_Goddess – Good question – why does the women’s loo become the proverbial watercooler for us? Legitimate reason for being there and no men to overhear? Narcissa was too lightweight for Lucius as far as backbone went. Her feelings were crushed too easily when he got in a temper. Hermione certainly doesn’t have that problem. In this fic I see Hermione and Snape as the gingham dog and the calico cat – too similar to mesh. He would never take her verbal abuse. Yes, I think Lucius is a bit more playful in sex than Snape would be. As to Narcissa in the film – Helen McCrory – OMG. And such an ugly look with that doubledecker hair. Yech! McCrory was originally scheduled to play Bellatrix but she got pregnant. So they cast her as Narcissa!!?? I’ve never liked Narcissa as a character either, but needed to find some peace with the character. Next story she’s probably going back into ‘divorce limbo’, heh, heh. Leonard? Your friends like Leonard better? No way! That Sheldon is a sex maniac waiting to happen. Go for it! (And I also subscribe to your theory on tall, lanky men…I’m sure it’s true!) I remember that nerd line. I was so glad the girls figured out the nerds were the best. I’ll bet you’d have matching underoos with Sheldon.

ech1964 – Hmmm, Hermione leading the ‘dance’ with Lucius sexually at some point. I’m pondering that – waaaay down the line as an extra chapter. You just know she’d get to that point sometime. But she would want to play with some of his toys, I’d bet. I don’t think she would always be the passive one, do you? She’s already massaged his butt muscles. Whatever next???

Draco_Lover – A new reader (instead of a lurker) and I was bookmarked! Yay me! Lucius and Hermione both need sensitivity lessons LOL. There will be more plan info soon. Thanks for reviewing!

T Stevenson – Narcissa’s ‘meat and potatoes’ was always her social skills. She is perhaps more tuned in to the newlywed couple’s dynamics than anyone else, knowing Lucius and understanding her own sex. If she can understand and be happy with Snape, she must have some real talent at behavior study. Yes, poor Hermione who now has more empathy for Lucius than she wanted. How annoying for her! As for Lucius correcting Hermione in front of the Snapes at the dinner table, we’ll see… Um, “spanko’s okay”?? Oh my, you’re ahead of the story, T. Well, some of that gets written in this next chapter, but re spanking, very good, girl! Lemons ahoy!

Scary Bear Hair – Yes, Hermione shoots first (with her mouth) and asks questions later. Narcissa is trying to be friends and has a bit of success. Sheherazade’s story “Ties the Bind,” (the history of them all as children), is so realistic one loses sight that it’s not canon. I’d forgotten about Peter and Alecto - icky, LOL. In this story Narcissa was drawn to Severus in a nonphysical, juvenile way when they were young, but the age gap was too wide then. At least Hermione has a better, more casual view of spanking now. Snape and Lucius go back and forth, jabbing each other to the great pleasure of both. They were just a joy to write. Snape was never an authority figure to Narcissa like he was to Hermione; they were more contemporaries. More tub-soaking coming up.

Mrequecky – Hello and welcome to the story. I’m relieved you are okay with the uneven communications going on between Lucius and Hermione. I can’t see them having a cozy heart-to-heart just yet myself. But they are tentatively making an effort to climb over their high, personal, protective walls.

aliciana – I’ve had Benedictine here in California so I’ll fit right in to Lancashire if I visit. I’m basking in your positive words. And sucky-upty definitely qualifies as both funny and witty, so no worries there. Lucius is still floundering among his stuffy beliefs about a Pureblood marriage, poor man. Snape hasn’t the same handicap, thus he’s far ahead in the marriage-go-round. Would you like both Lucius and Severus to launch your new spa together or one at a time? Each will bring a bottle of champagne, however, neither of them will break the bottle across the bow of your new bathtub. Promise.

Bathtime...

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Chapter Nineteen

Relaxation


“Sweet Hecate, that feels so good.” Lucius opened his eyes and reached for the herbal bath salts, sloshing more of the crystals in before Hermione could object. “Between the three of you, my shins are black and blue. Narcissa broke the skin with those stilettos of hers. I’ll be hobbling for days.”

Hermione stonily watched as more than half her favorite bath salts disappeared under the water, sinking to the marble bottom and making it gritty under her bum. With a noticeable lack of sympathy, she tartly answered, “Then it’s lucky you already have a cane, isn’t it?” She wriggled around trying to dissolve the excess crystals so she could sit without the unpleasant sensation of sand in her crack. It took a few moments, but the crystals finally melted.

Unaware of his wife’s discomfort, Lucius complained, “Really, Hermione, verbal admonitions at dinner would have worked just as well and left me with two sound legs.”

Hermione watched as Lucius pulled both legs out of the soapy water and propped them on the side of the tub to display his dinner guests’ handiwork. He hadn’t exaggerated about his shins - both of them sported large bruises and one of them had a harsh, red scrape.

Seeing his wife purse her lips but offer no apology, Lucius dropped his legs back into the water and leaned against the far end of the tub, closing his eyes again and letting his hair trail in the bubbles. His legs throbbed from their bruises and the water was slowly soothing the hurt away, but it wasn’t soothing away Lucius’ feelings of Hermione’s perfidy. She hadn’t sided with him. Or, at the least she could have stayed out of the disagreement. It wasn’t her fight to join if he called Narcissa a flobberworm.

“If you wish to upbraid me for ill manners, I’d appreciate having it done less violently,” he remarked, then carelessly added, “and if possible, in private.”

What little sympathy Hermione felt dried up at the last comment. “You mean like the way you upbraided me for poor table manners in front of our guests? You mean like that? If so, then we are quite evenly served, I think.”

Lucius’ eyes blinked open and he stared blearily at his wife for a moment. He frowned, confused, “I don’t even know why I did that. Either time. Oh!” His confusion cleared. “Yes, I do know. With you, anyway. It was a simple payback for you siding with Severus and Narcissa about my comment to her. You’re my wife. If you don’t agree with my behavior I’d rather not be upbraided by you for it in front of others, even my best friends. It was childish of me to pay you back in your own coin, but you hurt my feelings. So I hurt your feelings, and you’ve hurt my shins. Are we even now? I do think Narcissa’s well-aimed kick evened the score there.” A grimace pulled his mouth down and the tired wizard sighed, “In any case, I do see the corollary and I most humbly apologize, my dear. That was incredibly juvenile and ill-mannered of me - twice. Apparently, being a bachelor for any length of time erodes one’s finer sensitivities.”

Hermione was nonplussed. Lucius was offering an apology in a civil manner and she would be an ogre not to accept it. His conciliatory smile rang a bell and she understood. Lucius wanted sex and if she was angry, he wasn’t going to get any.

“Does your apology come with the unwritten clause that now you may come to my bed?”

Lucius put his arms along the back of the tub while he gazed wearily at the little witch across the bubbles from him. “Is everything I do going to be examined for strings?” He quirked his lips in disgust, “All you ever have to do is say ‘No’, Hermione. And yes, I do want to sleep with you tonight, odd at it now seems.” He waited for her to accept his apology. When she merely ran a finger through a few bubbles, ostentatiously not returning his gaze, Lucius prompted her, “Well?”

Hermione looked up at her spouse, a combination of irritation and chagrin decorating her visage. “I accept your apology.” In a pinched tone as if it hurt her to say it, she added, “I know it was meant sincerely. I shouldn’t have kicked you – either time.”

“I might have believed that a smidgen more if you hadn’t looked like you were sucking on a lemon when you said it, but I don’t want to fight. May we let it go and move on?” Lucius turned and presented his back, swirling the fragrant water against the sides of the tub, “You might provide a wifely service and scrub my back, if you please. I haven’t had anyone to do that for a long time.”

Hermione’s lips pinched together again as she was reminded of this man’s marital history. Her hands clenched into fists for a second as she fought her resurgent attack of inadequacy in comparison to the older, extremely beautiful witch whose place she now held. After a short struggle with her feelings of inferiority, the new Mrs. Malfoy’s brave, Gryffindor side emerged and she decided to combat her predecessor’s back-scrubbing technique with a version that would erase any previous experiences the handsome wizard had.

It was mean-spirited of her to feel a spiteful thrill that Lucius had verbally sniped at his ex-wife, calling her a flobberworm, but that spurt of triumph had happened after the fact. At the time her kicks on Lucius’ shin had been more reflex, her second kick was a bonding with the others against his rude comment. Their kicks had spurred her as though they were giving her tacit permission to show her husband more of her displeasure. They had been almost surreal, her kicks.

Lucius was correct, however; she shouldn’t have interfered in what was probably an old argument among the three. But perhaps Lucius told the truth when he said he wasn’t in love with the beautiful woman. Some of her stress lessened. “As you wish,” she said nonchalantly, careful to show nothing of her thoughts.

“Oh, if only it were ever that simple,” Lucius murmured beneath his breath and bowed his spine to provide the largest target possible for his bride behind him.

His wet hair stuck to his back and Hermione rose up onto her knees, settling with her thighs on either side of his glutes so she could gently pull the wet strands up and over the tops of his shoulders. She adjusted his pale, fine hair so it hung down over his pecs, giving her access to the entire spread of golden, glowing skin covering the firm muscles of his back.

Lucius closed his eyes in pleasure as his hair was smoothed into place, feeling small hands slide down over his male nipples before retreating with a delicate scratching of nails over the nubs.

A shallow catch of breath told the little witch Lucius liked that and a low, male rumble of approval signaled that the back scrubbing was starting off well. Hermione sat back on her haunches again to better settle behind her husband. The intensely male shape presented to her, a masculine inverted triangle from broad shoulders to narrow hips bisected by the faint line of his spine, was an utterly mesmerizing view and Hermione’s breathing stopped for a second, then resumed a little faster. Who was seducing whom here? Hermione tossed her head, sending her damp curls over her own shoulders, then set to business.

She lathered up her hands, dripping the excess onto his shoulders, then used her thumbs to trace two lines firmly down either side of the divide of his spine. When she reached the water line just above his waist she retraced her soapy marks all the way back up to his neck, feeling Lucius’ back arch just a twinge in lethargic appreciation.

Placing her fingers lightly on the tops of his shoulders for purchase, she again used her thumbs to dig more firmly into the muscles below the nape of his neck, circling over the solid tenseness she found there. Her questing thumbs discovered knots of tautly held sinews, which she firmly kneaded over and over until they lessened, then disappeared, leaving quiescent muscle behind.

Lucius groaned and his hands tightened into fists from the initial pain of having his tense trapezoids pressed by two tiny, ruthless thumbs. Increasingly detached and enervated as the magic of her touch soothed hurts he didn’t even know he had, he relaxed his fists, finger by finger in the warm water, allowing the tight control she had found in his body to ebb as he slowly closed his eyes and sank into the hypnotic, soapy circles she was drawing on him. The dinner had been very stressful for the wizard and his normal, high energy had taken a beating.

Hermione heard the low groan Lucius emitted as she dug into the hard strings of his shoulders, but she never let up, figuring if he didn’t like it, he would make her stop. Instead, he lowered his head toward his chest, bowing to her severe ministrations on his behalf in an attitude of submissive majesty, reminding her of a great, tawny lion, offering to be petted, his power leashed, but still overwhelmingly potent. His mien was relaxed, even tired, but never weak.

Lucius’ shoulders finally slumped into a more biddable posture, and through the conduit of her fingers she could feel the tension leak out of him. She had been invited to wash his back, not give him a massage and she hadn’t meant to do anything more than slick on some soap and then rinse it off the beautifully carved, male musculature under her palms.

However, at her first touch, his keyed up physical stress had transmitted itself to her, his body stiffening and recoiling even though he had asked her to scrub him. A wash of guilt made Hermione squirm over the combative complexion of their marriage, to which she had contributed her full share.

She had initially felt justified in rejecting him on every level, but she had quickly, selfishly, availed herself of his talents in bed. In silent atonement, her hands blindly took over, caressing him, trying to give him some surcease from whatever was making him so stiff and edgy.

Perhaps he had suffered through that dinner as much as she had. It was odd for him to be goaded into embarrassing her at the dinner table. That hadn’t seemed like his style. That she had precipitated the embarrassing, dinner table etiquette lesson told her that her husband would take no abuse from her in public. He’d been quick and ruthless in his retaliation. A sad smile trembled at the corner of her mouth. He was much more the spanking in private type, but she had goaded him, behaving recklessly with her castigating kicks. His poor shins had paid for his unusual gaucherie with Narcissa, but she shouldn’t have participated.

The dinner had made her incredibly edgy as well. It was why she had wanted the hot bath. Now it looked like he was getting the benefit of her bath and oddly it made her unexpectedly happy. His tense demeanor was calming with every stroke of her hands.

Hermione didn’t mind so much, anyway. Living with an edgy Lucius was rather like dancing on the lip of a live volcano. Most of the time it merely smoked menacingly, but occasionally it blew, burning all within range. She’d certainly had her backside singed more than once recently for playing too close to the fire of his wrathful temper at her hectoring words. It had become something of a game, getting him so upset that he was reduced to spanking her. She was getting quite good at it although it felt like he wasn’t putting much power into his swats. Did he know she was playing him?

Still, she always felt triumphant when she finally goaded him into spanking her. It was as though she needed him to reinforce his evil nature as she pushed him into punishing her. The physical spanking itself was disconcertingly becoming something of a rush, which she wallowed in, but felt sulky and embarrassed about the next day. It had, therefore, been a distinct relief to have Narcissa explain spanking so nonchalantly as a sexually charged, exciting form of increasing one’s arousal.

She decided she needed to clear the air about another point. “Lucius?”

“Mmmm?” The blond head was nodding in relaxation as tiny fingers blissfully unknotted his back.

“I’m sorry about your wedding present. It’s quite beautiful.”

The blond head ceased to nod. Lucius slewed around to look at his wife, his face empty of any emotion.

Hermione hurried into speech before she lost her courage, “I… well, I thought…that is, I thought they were leftovers from Narcissa. It was stupid of me. Even if they had come from your Gringotts vault, they would have been worn by many Malfoy wives, not just Narcissa. I didn’t like feeling like a ‘leftovers’ sort of wife.” She met the fathomless gray eyes stoically.

Finally, after frozen seconds of silence, Lucius heaved a deep sigh and turned around, presenting her with his back again. “Thank you for the explanation, and I am, of course, pleased you like my wedding present.” He sifted a hand through the bubbly water and murmured quietly, “What sort of wife do you want to be?”

The little witch swallowed once, suddenly perilously near tears, then set to briskly massaging her wizard’s exposed neck muscles, while pondering the fraught question. As Lucius’ head began to loll on his shoulders with the sedating movement of her fingers, instead of answering, she asked, “What Narcissa said about your marriage to her…and what you said. You want a happy marriage with me?”

Lucius slowly replied, “I’m not sure that is possible, but yes, I would like that. Now I have a question for you. “Can you accept that I am master in our home and if our ideas conflict, that mine is the final decision?”

“Is that just how your previous marriage was, or is that a non-negotiable requirement for a ‘happy’ marriage between us?” Hermione didn’t want to be a pale, less attractive facsimile of Lucius’ first wife as she tried to fit a submissive mold that was anathema to her.

He mulled over the odd détente they existed in. His tiny wife barely tolerated him and accepted sex mostly because of her baser instincts, but her effect on him got more consuming at each meeting. They were both exceptionally strong-minded individuals; they needed a way to meld their personalities to the pleasure of both. He could never subjugate himself to her, it would break him. He knew it as surely as he knew his conniving, Slytherin nature. He didn’t want to break her either, but only one of them could be head of the house, and it was always and ever going to be him.

When the moments dragged on without an answer from his wife, Lucius knew that she didn’t accept him as her husband, not in the way a Pureblood marriage would be. If their marriage were ever to amount to anything, somehow they would have to carve out a unique relationship unlike the old-fashioned pattern his greater age had seduced him into expecting. He let go a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and pragmatically shelved the topic. A problem for another day. Right now he was getting a world-class massage and he intended to enjoy it.

When Lucius didn’t press her for an answer, Hermione gave up trying to figure out all her confused feelings and moved her hands down to his shoulder blades and began testing his muscles for more knots. Just touching him made her feel a little undone and simultaneously voracious, wanting to clamp that male skin covering his shoulders between her teeth.

Lucius was nearly comatose with the languorous threads of serenity winding through him at the drugging massage he was receiving. This was the second time she had done this for him and it was every bit the dichotomy it had been the first time, when she had learned how to squeeze his buttocks. He was so boneless he was almost nodding off, but one part of him was stretching, firm and anxious, for some of the personal attention his back was lapping up.

He didn’t know how or why it worked that way – it just felt incredibly good. The warm water gently bobbled around his testicles resting on the marble tub bottom as she pushed his body forward with her palms, and it was sending slow, glorious pulses of desire all through him, while her pressing and kneading simultaneously dissolved him into putty. All his alert nerve endings were concentrated solely between his legs. Lucius smiled sleepily. Any sort of tactile stimulation from her was a lovely banquet to his senses. He hadn’t felt so gloriously listless since…well, he couldn’t remember if he’d ever felt so deliciously torpid.

Hermione found a bundle of gnarled nerves under her fingers midway down the smooth, wet, golden expanse of flesh on his back, which stopped Lucius’ unsettling thoughts abruptly and he groaned in grueling bliss as his erection shuddered under a rolling pulse of desire. Somnolent, relaxing under his wife’s questing thumbs, Lucius closed the fingers of one hand around himself and idly fisted his erection, gently squeezing his staff in rhythm to the digging circles being applied to his back, lulled by the heat of the water and the scent of the herbal mist rising from the tub.

The languid movement of Lucius’ arm muscles on one side led Hermione to peek over his shoulder. The water was fragrant, but the bubbles had mostly dissipated and she froze, electrified by the vision of her husband’s hand tracing his own thick, hard length from root to tip and back, his long, manicured fingers erotically constricting the tumescent flesh, causing eddies of bathwater to ebb and flow over and around the veined skin of his penis. The short, pale, flaxen hair surrounding his organ drifted in the underwater current caused by his indolent self-molding.

The sudden clutching of her woman’s core at the taboo view made Hermione gasp. Her vague vexation that it was her place to do that soon changed to ardent voyeurism; seeing him fondle himself was the most provocative, mesmerizing thing she’d ever seen in her life. Her hands curved into fists mimicking the way Lucius held his hand and she whimpered next to his ear.

The cessation of her massage and the slight sound of distress brought Lucius back to the moment and he muzzily turned his head to see her avid gaze focused over his shoulder, not at his face but at his genitals, which, after a slight hesitation, he languorously continued to caress. He smiled lazily and reached behind him with his other arm to mold his wife’s petite form to his back, softly pressing her breasts into his shoulder blades as he whispered seductively against the side of her face, “Do you like watching me or do you want to touch?”

Hermione’s eyes sparkled and she instantly took up his cue. She snaked one hand under his arm, sliding it forward across his ribs and down his belly to the enticing hardness beckoning below the water. She kept vigil over his shoulder as her hand took over the movement she had seen him apply, leaning fully on his back as she ministered to the thick, long extension she loved.

Lucius gave way to her hand and nuzzled his face into her neck, licking the damp skin under her chin as he moaned his approval of her exquisite palpation. A feminine, drawn-out moan blowing in his ear told him his little witch was just as enthralled with the erotic stroking as he was. Maybe she didn’t like him much and didn’t see him as husband material, but her libido was evenly matched to his and on this playing field they were a team.

Silence descended in the misty warmth of the bath as a private, intimate pleasure was shared between two souls who each wanted to be close, but didn’t know how. For the moment all disputes and grievances and disappointments faded for a pair of awkward lovers who were creating a tenuous filament of connection, fragile and uncertain, but hesitantly wanted by both. Neither acknowledged that need, merely offering and accepting the moment of peace and unity.

Lucius used his arm to encircle Hermione’s head of damp curls peeking over his shoulder so he could press openmouthed kisses along the cord of her neck. As his lips met the join of her neck and shoulder, he took a small nip before nuzzling his way back under her chin and relaxing into the rhythm that was increasing below the waterline.

His smooth voice murmured low encouragement, “Sweet girl, so good, oh! Yes, just like that, yes, tighter, pull my skin tighter.” His breath hitched and he began to pant. “Gods, yes!” he hissed as she wrapped her other arm over his shoulder and scraped her nails across his sensitized male nipples again. When the nubs tightened and firmed, Hermione used her finger and thumb to pinch each one, plucking the small peaks to the accompaniment of her mate’s shivers of arousal. He was nearly as sensitive there as she was and it fascinated her to give him so much pleasure for so little effort.

“Tell me how it feels, Lucius,” Hermione crooned in her husband’s ear. “I want to know what it’s like to have me pinching your nipples while I’m squeezing your cock.” Her hand compressed a little tighter as it rode him up and down and her husband’s hips began to move uncontrollably to the paroxysms of turbulent delight coursing through his constricted organ.

Lucius tried to describe his meltdown, but could now barely string his words together, “Ahhh, Gods, agony…everything tight, throb…hurt…good, sooo…so good…” His hand clutched convulsively over hers and took over the movement, tightening fiercely on his penis to show her what to do, then pulling away again, leaving her to further increase the pressure the way he wanted it as he slid shaking fingers down to squeeze his tight balls in time to her strokes.

“Yesssss, tight, fast... hard… Shite! Hermione… guhhh…Sprite!” Lucius went rigid, leaning back against his loving abuser and pushing her against the end of the tub as she held on and kept up the same, frenzied beat he’d shown her. Lucius was only cognizant of the strokes on his shaft – nothing else existed for him any more. His hand fell away from his lovingly punished testicles, forgotten.

For endless seconds time stood still for Lucius as his body stretched, reached… then went straight over the edge - and right there in the warm cocoon of churning water he burned to a contented crisp cradled in his wife’s arms, his constricted male sac spasmodically emptied of its fecund burden.

No one moved for a while, both content to lie melded together in the companionable, close space of the tub, neither caring much that the water now was just a little murkier with the result of Lucius’ orgasm.

Finally, Lucius reached for his wand and cleared the water, cleansing it. Then he rose and let the water sluice off his sleek, golden ivory skin. He looked a question at Hermione who just shrugged. Accepting her sign as a yes, he sent the water whirling away into nothingness. Putting his wand down again, he offered his wife a hand out of the tub, which she gratefully accepted.

Hermione was a little embarrassed by what she had done – embarrassed and also wildly excited. However, the emotion that surprised her the most was her feeling of great accomplishment, as though she had mastered a difficult spell or found the answer to a hidden secret. The fact that she had started out to upstage Narcissa was set aside in the rush of her success with Lucius, so nothing marred her contentment as she allowed her husband to dry them both off, not with his wand, but with a fluffy, peach-colored towel Hermione had laid beside the tub earlier. Somehow, his using something that could be construed as a Muggle technique sent a glow through her as she stood still for his help.

That night silence was the rule as Lucius found his way under Hermione’s white counterpane and into her body. The next morning he had risen before she was awake and she was rather thankful not to exchange words. It had been a very odd, eventful evening.

tbc...

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I hope you all enjoyed frolicking in the spa. Lucius and Hermione certainly did. Next chapter, a visit with Snape.

Don't forget to see the pics for this chapter at:

http://labibliographe.livejournal.com/52338.html

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