Just Around the Riverbend

I'm glad you all liked the chapter last time, and I like how you reacted to the Headmaster. He will be a nice addition to the story. He's no Dumbledore, but we'll just have to live with that for now. Anywhoo...it took too long to get this up, but I finally did and there's some smut so everyone shut up. Kay? Great. Enjoy.

margaritama
Jenn
April
HarryGinny4Eva
hairsprayX12
angeles
Voracious Reader
Anathema
JadeLucky

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Hermione leaned back against the pillows as Lucius’ weight covered her. He pressed his mouth to hers desperately, catching her lips and nipping them semi-roughly. She gasped, and ground herself up against him. His mouth moved to her throat as he worked her arms out of her shirt, only breaking contact with her to pull her shirt off of her, and toss it aside. His mouth found the gentle swells of her breast, running his tongue along the sensitive skin above her bra line. She gave a strangle groan when he began to nip at the exposed flesh, and she shivered underneath him.

He hooked his fingers in the material of her bra, pulling it down to expose her breasts, still pushed up by the cloth.

“Lucius…” she gasped, her hands finding his soft blonde hair as he began to run his silver tongue over her right nipple. His movements were unhurried and agonizingly gentle. But Hermione breathed as if she had run a marathon. One hand found the other nipple, and he grazed the pads of his fingers over the sensitive bud, bringing a sob of frustration to Hermione’s lips. “Please…” she begged. He pulled his face back, still grazing her nipple with his fingers.

“ ‘Please’ what?” he asked, pinning her with his wintry gaze.

“I…I’m on fire, Lucius. Have mercy.” She whimpered in return.

“What do you want me to do?” he asked, his fingers moving from her breast to ghost over her tummy. Her stomach contracted in response to the ticklish movement, and she squirmed.

“Wa…want…you to…t-touch me.” She gasped.

“I am touching you.” He replied evenly, as his torturous fingers returned to her breasts, this time pinching one of the nipples gently. She whimpered again, and her hands came to rest on his wrists.

“Noo…” she whined. “Not there…”

“Where, then? Where could you possibly want me to touch you?” he asked innocently, pointedly ignoring the throbbing coming from the vicinity of his crotch. Hermione was way too much fun to rile up.

“Lower…” she replied, trying to push his hands down. He lowered his hands, and bypassed her aching core completely to rest his hands on her knees.

“Here?” he asked. She growled- actually growled- at him.

“Nooo!” she said, utterly frustrated. Lucius had to hide a smirk. Like a feral cat, this one was. Pull her tail and watch her pounce.

“Then where, my little lioness?” he asked, his hands running from her knees up her thighs. Hermione grabbed one of his hands, and placed it against her crotch. Merlin’s running shoes! He could feel the heat radiating off of her through her jeans that still encased her lower half. “Very well.” He conceded. He pulled his hand away, earning a sob from Hermione. “Now, now, my whimpering little pet. Unless you want me to just rub you through these horrid thick trousers, you’ll calm yourself so that I can bare that pretty pussy to me.” He commented, leaving Hermione to shiver in anticipation. With a wave of his hand her jeans were gone, forgotten in the room somewhere. She was left in what he supposed she called underwear. There was barely any fabric to them, for Hecate’s sake!

“I don’t want you wearing these anymore.” He said firmly, hooking his fingers in the stringy material and pulling them over her eager hips.

“Hmm?” was her only response as she lifted her hips to allow him to remove her last barrier.

“Knickers. Any kind of them. From now on I want you bare under all of your clothes. In fact, I would prefer you wear skirts so that I may have access to you any time I deem fit. I want to be able to claim you without having to remove those horrendous jeans or fight scraps of ribbon to get to you.” He clarified. She only looked at him with her liquid gold eyes, her head tilting to the side as if she were considering his request in her lust-clouded mind.

“If I agree, do I get to make a request of you as well?” she asked softly, her hips shifting unconsciously to attempt to relieve the ache that was still present. He raised a blonde eyebrow at her. How cunning. She would agree to his concession, if she got to make one of her own.

“I cannot agree to it if I am unaware of the details.” He replied evenly. She rolled her eyes.

“Gods…I’m not going to ask you to free all of the house-elves in return for me not wearing knickers. I…just…had another fantasy for sometime, and I wanted to make sure you wouldn’t-well, I should say couldn’t- refuse.” She said, her eyelids drooping slightly to give her a more relaxed look. His interest was piqued, that was for certain, but he wasn’t sure if it was a good thing. Oooh…but the temptation of having that beautiful, warm, inviting pussy waiting for him at all times was too much for his poor male libido to resist.

“Very well.” He said, pushing her thighs apart. “You no longer wear knickers and cease to wear trousers, and I’ll participate in whatever fantasy you’ve cooked up in that little noodle of yours.” He replied. She squealed happily, the sound melding into a gasp as Lucius pushed two fingers into her slippery opening. “So wet.” He murmured, shimmying back on his knees so he could lower his face to her glistening slit. He used his thumbs to spread the lips of her pussy, admiring the pink inner flesh.

He blew gently on the heated flesh, causing Hermione to gasp and buck. He kept his hands firmly in place, before he leaned forward to swipe at her exposed opening with his tongue.

“Oh gods help me!” she cried, gasping and groaning as if in pain. “Never…I’ve never…that’s…” but she couldn’t form a coherent thought, and he took her stunned silence to swipe with his tongue again, catching her clit with the textured appendage. She was a gibbering mess when he applied the tip of his tongue to her clit with a vengeance, holding her legs in place so she didn’t clamp down on him. While she was distracted and clawing at the blankets, one hand slipped towards her bottom. With the small puckered entrance exposed by her splayed legs, he caught her unaware by slipping the very tip of his index finger inside the puckered entrance.

She took a shuddering, gasping breath, and came hard. He excitedly caught the resulting liquid with his tongue, lapping greedily while his index finger wiggled against her anus. She sobbed her release, his name falling from her lips like a sacred mantra. When the convulsing of her inner muscles slowed, he finally pulled his face away, grinning like a madman.

“You prick.” She gasped as he pulled his finger away from her bottom.

“You loved it.” He said, going for the fasten on his pants. He removed his clothing while he watched Hermione catch her breath on the bed. The rise and fall of her breasts was as intoxicating as the best firewhiskey, as was the way she was still shifting her hips, the internal fire tamed, but not satisfied. Her near glowing eyes watched as his cock made its appearance, and he grinned when the hungry look appeared on her face.

“Shut up and fuck me.” She growled. He was on her like green on a Slytherin, piercing her with his turgid rod. She wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders, holding on for dear life as he began to pound her mercilessly.

When the were both sweaty and spent, their essence mingling on the sheets below, Lucius reluctantly removed himself from her warm sheath, cleaning himself with a wave of his hand. He began the slow task of recollecting his clothes. Hermione watched from the bed with sleep-heavy eyes.

“Where are you going?” she murmured sleepily.

“I have some business paperwork to attend to. Managing assets, acquiring new ones…boring stuff, that.” He said. She smiled.

“D’you care if I just stay here?” she asked, curling up in his warm bed. He was a bit surprised by the request. Hermione didn’t nap very often. But hey, who was he to begrudge her a nice afternoon nap? Sometimes he needed them too…

“I don’t mind, pet. Rest up.” He said gently, pushing the covers up to her chin with a flick of his fingers. He saw her eyes close, and within a few moments she was out, her breathing soft and steady. As he tucked his shirt back into his pants he approached her, the corners of his mouth turning up when she burrowed her curly head into his pillow. He reached over to push a soft curl out of her face. “Rest up.” He repeated quietly, and left the room without another sound.

He walked pensively towards his office, only pausing when he passed the library. He stopped at the door, his attention caught by the white-blonde hair of the inhabitant.

Draco was on the sofa, looking at an old photo album, and unreadable expression on his face. Lucius moved forward silently, his feet taking him to stand behind the sofa so that he could look down at the pictures. Draco was aware of his father’s presence, but said nothing. His attention was on the photo on the left side of the book. A slightly younger Lucius was helping a fidgety four-year-old Draco onto his first broom, and the task was made impossible due to the fact that Draco wouldn’t un-plaster himself from Lucius’ robes. But Lucius had a look of infallible patience on his face, and kept trying as the picture looped over and over.

Lucius saw Draco’s head turn slightly to look at the next page. This was a picture of an infant Draco and his mother. He was dressed in a set of full infant’s robes, and his mother was in a simple knee-length dress, waving Draco’s thin little baby fist at the camera. Lucius was distracted by a small droplet of water that fell on the page, and realized with a start that it was a tear.

“Draco?” he asked tentatively.

“I miss her.” Draco said softly, reaching up to wipe the teardrop off of the page.

“I know.” Lucius said, reaching out and putting his hand on Draco’s shoulder. “I do too.” But he knew it was the wrong thing to say as soon as Draco wrenched himself from his father’s touch, standing from the sofa and whirling on Lucius with a look of fury on his face.

“Don’t you dare!” he hissed. “Anyone can tell from looking at you that you’ve just been with that Mudblood whore, and you have the balls to talk about missing mother!” he snarled, his pale face flushed with anger.

“Draco…I cannot bring your mother back. She is gone, Draco. I mourned her, and I still miss her as my wife and friend. But she would not want us- me or you- to wallow in pity if there was something good to be found in life. What do you think she would say if she saw you right now, Draco? You know how protective she was of you! And as for Hermione’s status as a Muggleborn…you’re being extremely hypocritical when one brings to light some of the recent…escapades you’ve been on.” Lucius replied, keeping his voice as calm as possible.

“They meant nothing. They are as they always have been: toys for those of superior blood and breeding. You take it too far. She sleeps in your bed, and lives in this house. You bring that filthy Yankee savage here as well, and then let her faithful dog in here to attend to his bitch-”

Lucius’ anger flared, and he backhanded Draco before the young man could finish his sentence. Ice blue met storm gray as they stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity.

“I have not been a good father to you, Draco.” Lucius finally said. Draco could not hide the surprise on his face. “I cost you your childhood. I nearly cost you your life. I cannot give you those years back, Draco. I was so sure that I was doing the right thing…” Lucius added, and gave a mirthless laugh. “No apology I offer will be enough to atone for what I have done. But you are my son, Draco. My only son, and the heir to my dynasty. I… do love you, Draco.” Lucius said, stumbling over the unfamiliar word. “I only wanted the best for you. I wanted a world where your heritage would not be forgotten for the flashy baubles of the Muggle world that has been fast encroaching on ours. I went about it the wrong way, my son, and for that I am truly, truly sorry.”

Draco stared at his father, before he made his move. Lucius saw it coming, and did not move or flinch away as Draco’s fist connected with the side of his face. The blow had enough force to turn his head, and he stumbled. Lucius ground his teeth together to ignore the pain, and turned back to Draco, who had a look of utter fear on his face.

“I will not strike back. I deserved that. I do hope, however, that you feel much better after that.” Lucius said. Draco swallowed hard, his adam’s apple bobbing nervously.

“Um….well….yeah, actually.” Draco said. And he did feel a little better. He had just taken out nine years of frustration in a single punch. He felt lighter than he had in years. This was not, however, the end of this story. His father was not instantly forgiven, but Draco believed he might be much more willing to repair the relationship now.

“Good, good. Er…Will you join us all for supper?” Lucius asked cautiously.

“No.” Draco said, and he didn’t miss the crestfallen look on his father’s face. “But breakfast tomorrow might be a different story.” He added, and his father’s look turned from hurt to hopeful.

“Very well…I shall see you then, I hope.” Lucius said, inclining his head. “Good day, Draco.”

“Good day, father.”

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Well...that certainly was an interesting exchange. Hmm...what could possibly go wrong with this scenario? I DUNNO?!?!?!

Well, you've schlepped my chapter, now leave me a review. They're the bee's knees!!