The Knotting

Not only do I not own Harry Potter, I don't really own anything. It's all in my husbands name. Sue him.

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She was sitting at her dressing table removing jewelry when I opened the door to our chambers. Looking up at me through the mirror, she smiled at me. I walk over to her, taking her necklace and undoing the clasp for her, lying it down to tackle the pins that were holding her hair up.

“You do not like the color of my hair, do you?” she asks. I get the feeling that she is really inquiring, as if this is something that she truly wants to know.

“I generally lean towards the darker tones. I am getting used to the lightness of your hair. I do, however, think that your eyes are gorgeous; I could stare at them for an eternity.”

I reach out my hand for her to place hers in mine, pull her up to me and say, “Every man here at he Manor this evening was talking about you; saying how beautiful you looked.”

“The only man that I am interested in is you.” She had a tendency to whisper ever so slightly, almost to the point of my straining to here her.

I smile at her and consider my options for a moment. Sex has not been readily available to me in the last month. Father and his blasted charm have kept me away from other women. I have not made love with her since my first night of wedded bliss and I could defiantly use the release.

I capture her lips in a scalding kiss. They are still the perfect shad of burgundy that they were when I saw her for the first time this evening; begging to be kissed. She melted in my arms, her body molding to mine. I could felt the heat that was coming off of her body and it excited me. I knew that this night was not going to last long. I knew that in order to fulfill her needs, I would have to be careful in my timing.

My hands started to unclasp her gown and push it to the floor. She was not wearing any garments underneath; I could not help but be excited that she had roamed the Manor without knickers and danced with all of my friends, colleagues, former professors and enemies.

I took my time; just looking at her body, noticing all that I had not noticed before. The right breast was slightly heavier; she had a mole on the left side of her stomach. A birth mark hiding behind her ear.

I picked her up and laid her down on the bed. Crawling upon her I began to remove my clothes as I kissed my way down to the crevice in between her thighs. Remembering how she tasted just one month ago, I buried myself in her womanhood. She moaned and arched into my face; mumbled something that sounded as if they might be words but I was not in a position to wrap my brain around it. I needed to please her this way. My cock is straining to be inside of her; pounding upon her as if she is the water that a thirsting man needs in order to live. I insert two fingers and only then do I remember that she has only had a man once. The tightness of her hole makes me anxious to be inside her. I lave my tongue over and over her clit as I finger her, stroking that spot that she desperately needs me to stroke. Her climax has started; she is getting wilder in her bucking movements and grasps my hair in her hands to try and bring me closer to her. I let out a low growl as she comes in my mouth.

Her breathing is calming. I rise up and kiss her softly. Her body is so beautiful under me that I think for a moment that I could get used to this.

She presses me backwards to lie onto that mattress. She crawls atop of me and begins to kiss my chest. As her tongue encircles my nipple, I close my eyes and enjoy the sensation that she is providing. Her tongue moves lower; until she is hovering above my cock. She looks up at me with a pensive look in her eye.

“I have never done this before,” she whispers.

“You are not obligated to do that now,” I respond.

She laughs a little; it seems that I might have said something correctly for once in my life.

“I would like to learn. My friend Sarah says that all men enjoy this form of pleasure. If it feels half as good as what you do to me…well, then, I think you’ve earned it.”

I chuckled to myself. “I think that I would be obliged to give you lessons, if you like.” She looked up at me and grinned.

“Pick him up,” I tell her.

“Him,” she says.

“Yes, he is a him,” I say.

“And have you named him, also?” she asks.

Funny thing, I have named him. However now is not the time to get into that nonsense. Fortunately, she picks my cock up and says, “OK, what next?”

I lecture her on how to stroke him up and down. How to lick the head and swirl her tongue around to the base. I teach her to locate the sensitive places that make him shiver. All these things I have taught another, but this time, my pupil was connected to me in a way that no other has ever been or will ever be. I teach her to take him into her mouth and expand her throat to allow me more room. Lastly, I tell her that my balls tend to get green with envy if they are not paid attention to also. She finds this statement funny and the contraction of her throat almost sends me over the edge. She is doing a fine job at bobbing her head up and down and does not seem to mind the guidance that my hands are providing. I tell her that she needs to set a pace; so many stokes, a long lick, a swirl of the head and back to so many strokes. All the while remembering that occasionally licking my testicles makes me shiver.

I can’t stand much more. She has been at this for quite a while and I can feel the bubbling of my sperm coming to the surface. As much as I want to come in her mouth, I want to please her also.

“You have to stop,” I say to her. “I am not going to be able to hold this much longer.”

She stops what she is doing and looks at me; all the while stroking my member with her hand, “You have done this for me before. If you would like to complete yourself this way, I really do not mind.”

That has to be the most erotic thing that anyone has ever said to me. I groan loudly, knowing that she will be frustrated if I do not make her come again but also knowing full well the warmth that I feel when I explode in a woman’s mouth. I want to be selfish.

I roll her over, tilt her buttocks and place a pillow underneath them. I know from experience that it will not be a long ride for me and the tilt of her pelvis will allow me to hit that spot that makes all women scream. I plunge into her quickly; she whimpers a small amount but easily calms down. My breathing is hard and ragged. I want to pound into her with all the force that I can muster but I know that I need to pace myself. Long strokes in and out of her wet pussy at first; I close my eyes and start thinking of the past Quidditch season’s statistics.

That does not help for long. She is so very tight that soon I am thinking just of her and how her body feels like a cocoon around me. Taking a little notice, I sense that she is almost at completion; I pick up the pace. She grabs my back and scraps her nails down the length of it; I will have to tell her sometime that pain and sex go together well at times. Emptying myself into her, I let myself fall onto her in exhaustion.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I do not know how long that I lay there. It feels like an eternity but it could only have been moments. The warm comfortable feeling of being embedded in a woman is so incredible, sometimes, I wonder if I could just stay this way.

Moving off of her, I notice that she is crying. Hating to deal with crying women, I sneer at her, “What is wrong?”

She laughs at me, “Nothing. That was just—intense. There is no other way to describe it. It is almost as if I have experienced every emotion in just a few moments that a person could feel.”

I look at her, “I don’t understand.”

“I was nervous. You and I have only done this once and I was not certain that I pleased you the first time. I wanted for this time to go right. If I was able to satisfy you in bed then I hoped that you might start to—interact with me more often. The pleasure that my body goes through when you do that, it is just…there is no other word for it besides intense. It’s like a damn break and the flood is let forth and all I can do is ride the waves. But when you enter me, there is excitement, pain, my body burns hot, then the sensation of the dam bursting starts all over again, it is an emotional broom ride.”

Draco laid there and thought about what she had said. He did understand that sex relieved you of all kinds of stress, maybe this is what she was trying to express.

She curled up closer to me and buried herself within my arms. Somehow this was comforting to me.

We chatted about little things; the party mainly; the people that she had met, the men that had asked her to dance. She told me of her conversation with my former housemates, former professor, and business acquaintances of my fathers. Her conversation with Professor Snape seemed rather interesting, as Snape told her all about me as a child at Hogwarts, apparently letting slip that I had a love interest and that we were the ‘it’ couple of Slytherin.

The old bat.

She asked me questions about Pansy; I answered as truthfully as I could. No, I had not been in love with her, but I did love her. Yes, I thought that she and I would marry but Father and hers got into a ‘dispute’, as Father called it, and we were not allowed to marry. She asked me if I was pleased with the outcome of our marriage; I had to be honest and tell her that I was not yet for certain.

She did not look defeated as I told her that. She looked hopeful and stated that maybe it would be possible for her and me to spend some time around each other to see if we could become ‘compatible’. I agreed to this. Father was right; I needed to take care of my responsibilities.

The Manor door was opening and closing, giving the impression that guests were finally leaving. Settling down into the warm covers, she pulled me on top of her and kissed me. This was the first time that she had ever initiated a kiss. I let myself go in the comfort of her arms and fell into the kiss returning all the passion that she was giving.

“What a wonderful way to end a wonderful evening,” she sighed.

“Yes, it was a lovely party; Mother outdid herself.”

“My mum helped. Her and Narcissa planned everything. They wanted to have it more elaborate than it was but I firmly disagreed.”

“They let you disagree?”

“Well, I did get the ‘Dominique, you know nothing about Pureblood society’ speech.”

I laughed, “Does everyone call you Dominique?”

“Yes, ever since I was little.”

“Well, it sounds stuffy and proper.”

She laughed, “I do think that was the point!”

“I don’t want to call you that. I want to call you something else.”

She looked at me and smiled, “All right, what would you like to call me?”

I thought a few moments, “Nicky. I want to call you Nicky. Like a nickname, just for us.”

“I’d like that,” she said as she buried her head once again into my chest, this time I could feel the tears but chose not to ask about them.

~ ~ ~ ~

“That is a good sign, isn’t it Lucius. He has given her a nickname.”

“Yes, Cissy, it is a good sign.”

Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy continued to ready themselves for bed. Crawling between the covers Narcissa spoke, “You know, I did not mean to overhear their conversation. The door was cracked a little and well, I thought that I might be able to close it for them.”

Lucius chuckled at his wife, “Darling, the whole Manor heard them screaming in fits of passion. You think that overhearing him telling her that he was going to call her something besides her given name was too personal? Come, sleep. I am exhausted from being pleasant to people.”



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