Arianrhod's Vessel

here we are. another chapter. the bunnies are being most agreeable and giving me idea after idea to work with. i hope they continue and, in an effort to keep them so generous, i'm offering them all kinds of vegetable related incentives. sadly, though, i don't own any of the characters found in here other than Nisha. everything and everyone else belongs to j.k. rowling. i'm merely borrowing and i promise to, at some point, give them all back. i'd also like to point out that, much to my dismay, i'm not making a red cent from this, either. its all purely for enjoyment.

please be warned that, while there isn't any sex in this, the interactions between Nisha and Lucius are growing. the physical stuff is on its way. while i don't condone the whole underaged sex with a minor thing, i plan on using it within the context of this story. please do not flame me for it. you have been fully warned. also, this isn't gratuitous or nasty. there are genuine feelings between the two of them. doesn't make it right, but i'm also not backing out of the premise i've been given by my plot bunnies and Muses alike.

Chapter Six: The Way We Were
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"She's healing nicely, Mr. Malfoy," the Medi-Witch said as she packed several items back into her carpet bag. The last thing to go in was her wand, then she snapped the bag closed and held it before her with both hands. Nisha sat on the edge of the bed with her robe pooled around her waist, listening to the two of them speak about her as if she weren't there. Sighing, she pulled the robe up her arms and slipped it into place. She'd been ensconced in Lucius' home for the better part of two weeks and still her back was tender and tight as the flesh knit back together. This despite the rest, potions and salves ordered by the Medi-Witch.

"Something for which I am terribly greatful," he drawled, flicking his cold gray gaze Nisha's way. She ignored him and slid from the bed, moving to take up her favorite place in the window seat. Each time the Medi-Witch visited, it was the same. She and Lucius spoke about Nisha as if she wasn't present. Nisha had decided that she didn't care if they did such a thing because as soon as she was healed, she was going to leave here. She was fairly certain she knew why Lucius had hunted her down to begin with and she wanted no part of it.

The last time he'd asked such a thing of her, it had nearly killed her when she'd realized exactly what she'd done. She didn't think she'd survive another encounter such as that. She could admit that perhaps running as she had the last time had been a bad idea, but she'd been so young and she really hadn't known any better. She was older now, and she didn't plan on allowing him to use her in the same manner twice. She would do anything she had to in order to prevent such heartbreak from occuring a second time.

"I think about another week of rest will see her right as rain. Still the same restrictions. She's to take it easy and not do anything too stressful. Plenty of bedrest. Three good meals a day to help speed the healing process. And make sure she keeps taking the healing potions and using the salves," the Medi-Witch told him in her best professional tone.

"Of course. She's been doing all that, as you have ordered each and every time you've visited," Lucius replied easily. Nisha saw out of the corner of her eye that Lucius flicked his gaze to her once again. The woman nodded her head and moved for the door.

"I will make one more visit. To check her back. At the end of the week," the Medi-Witch said softly as she stopped at the door. She glanced from Lucius to the young woman, her lips pressed tightly to gether. She knew good and well what the girl was doing there. Lucius Malfoy had a certain reputation with the women and it was well known that he liked to collect exotic mistresses like other people collected fine wines or books. This girl Nisha had just the right looks to have attracted the attentions of a man such as Lucius Malfoy. She felt sorry for the girl and truly hoped that Nisha got away as soon as she was able before she ended up becoming a victim. With a nod of her head to Lucius, she slipped out the door without another word.

"I'm so glad to see that you're feeling better, Nisha. I was deeply concerned," Lucius purred at her. She didn't look up at him. Instead, she turned to look out the window. He watched her, noting that she wasn't going to give him her undivided attention. He'd noticed over the course of the past fortnight that Nisha had seemed rather cold toward him. He'd tried more than once to find out why this was, but she had kept any feelings she had strictly to herself.

"I would have survived, whether you'd liberated me from the brothel or not," she shrugged, her eyes locked onto something beyond the pane of glass. Lucius moved closer to her so that she couldn't help but feel his body near hers. The heat that eminated from him and reached out to her was tempting. She wanted to lean back into it, into him, but she knew what he'd think if she did. So Nisha sat with her back straight and her eyes ahead to avoid the temptation that he represented.

"Yes but you are special to me, dear one. I would have been remiss in leaving you in that terrible place," he told her, his hand reaching out to stroke the silken strands of her hair. It took all she had to keep from jerking her head away from his gentle touch. It felt so good and it was so wrong. She knew it. She knew he knew it. And she knew, if she let him continue, that she'd lose her nerve and give in to the feelings that were already threatening to spill over the top of the barrier she'd constructed to hold them.

"You don't need to save me from my problems any longer, Lucius. I've long since grown out of needing to be rescued," Nisha sighed, her eyelids drooping with the rhythmic, hypnotic strokes of his hand.

"I wasn't rescuing you, was I?" he asked, his voice coming from just behind the shell of her ear. He'd leaned in to her and she could smell the masculine scent of his cologne. It clogged her nose and went in search of memories that were tied to it. "I was simply in the right place at the right time and used my... influence to release you from a completely unacceptable situation."

His chest was nearly pressed against her back. She could feel the heat of him burning through the thin protection of the silk robe. She wanted to press into him and she wanted to run all at the same time. The confusion only made things worse and, before she could make herself pull away, his hand was gliding out of her hair and down over the curve of her cheek. A sigh worked it's way up her throat and escaped past her lips, a soft sound of surrender and rememebered bliss that she knew he'd heard. The protest she wanted to make never came. The instant his hand skirted under the lapel of her robe and then curved around the plump mound of her breast, Nisha knew she was lost.

Just as she'd been lost all those years ago.

Nisha couldn't sleep. For some reason, her mind wouldn't stop turning thoughts and images round and round. She'd tried thinking of nothing, but that hadn't helped. She'd tried opening the large windows on either side of her bed, allowing a cool, crisp breeze to fill the room. She'd hoped that it would drive her remembrances of Lucius' kiss from her fevered brain. But it didn't help. She couldn't stop thinking of that night in the gardens and how it had made her feel. Since then, Lucius hadn't made any advances toward her and she had to wonder if he'd decided he'd made a mistake. She gave up the premise of sleeping and slipped from her bed.

She pushed the door to her room open, then stepped out into the hall. Upon the initial inspection, the upper floor appeared to be silent with slumber. But Nisha heard the soft sobs coming from the master suite at the end of the hall. She knew that Lucius would be found in his private study down on the first level. It was well known among the members of the house that Lucius spent his nights in his study when Narcissa gave in to tears. Dobby had confided with Nisha that Lucius was unable to deal with his wife in such a state.

For a moment, Nisha stood in the middle of the hallway and stared at the closed door that led into Lucius and Narcissa's room. She wished she could help Narcissa. She hated to see the woman who'd been like a mother to her spend so much time crying. But if Nisha went in to offer some kind of solace, Narcissa would know that her bouts of sorrow were being discussed among the manor's inhabitants. Sighing, Nisha turned and made her way in the opposite direction, toward the top of the stairs.

She practically skipped down the stairs on light feet, a soft smile on her face. She knew that Lucius was in his study. He'd likely be in a poor mood, would likely be drinking. That wasn't going to stop her from visiting him. She might get lucky and she'd be able to cheer him up some. That would make her insomnia worth while. At the bottom of the stairs, she turned and made her way to the closed door of the study.

The knob turned easily and the panel opened on silent hinges. She stepped into the dimly lit room and stared. Lucius sat in the chair behind his desk, his head in his hands. A bottle of something dark and wet stood near his elbow, a heavy, cut crystal tumbler next to that. He always drank when Narcissa had one of her nights like this. Lately, her bad nights seemed to come more often and it had left Nisha wondering if they were because of her.

As silently as the door opened, she shut it and blocked out the rest of the universe. She was alone with him in his private world. It was exciting and frightening all at the same time. She was feeling things she'd never felt before. Things that were scary as much as they were exhilarating. And now, she'd willingly stepped into the devil's lair and she was going to tempt fate. Somehow, she wasn't as frightened by that prospect as she thought she should be.

"Lucius?" Nisha asked softly when she was a few steps from the desk. He still hadn't lifted his head and she got the feeling that he was lost in thought and wasn't aware she was there. His name spoken so gently brought his head up and his eyes immediately landed on her, as if he'd known where she was standing all along. The gray of them was dark and stormy, telling her his inner thoughts were in turmoil. A slow smile slithered across his face as he looked at her and, if possible, his gaze darkened further.

"Good evening, Nisha. What brings you to my little corner of purgatory?" he asked and, though she knew he'd been drinking, there was no hint of it in his tone. She could hear the sorrow in his voice and she was sure it was because of Narcissa.

"I couldn't sleep. I thought I'd take a walk and see if it tired me out. When I heard Narcissa sobbing, I knew I'd find you here. I thought I'd perhaps spend some time with you, if that's permissable?" her voice was hopeful. He studied her a few moments, the silence stretching uncomfortably between them as his gaze raked her up and down. Whatever he thought was hidden behind the storm clouds of his eyes. She held her breath as she waited, hoping he wouldn't send her away.

She didn't think he should be alone tonight. It was obvious that he was far more upset by Narcissa's inability to give him a child than he was willing to let on. He was simply giving the world his brave face. He needed to let go of the sorrow he felt just as much as Narcissa did. Finally, after a long pause, he nodded his head silently. Nisha gave him a soft smile and moved to take a chair. His gaze never left her, even as he lifted the tumbler to his lips and drank deeply of the liquid in it. When he set the glass down, he had what she thought must be the most predatory gaze lighting the depths of his stormy eyes.

"You're turning into such a beautiful young woman, Nisha," Lucius intoned in a silky voice that sent shivers down her spine. "So beautiful and wanton."

She stared at him, not sure what he meant, her smile wavering a small bit. It wasn't that she was stupid. She knew what the word wanton meant. But she didn't understand why he would use it when speaking about her. She was not an immoral person, so she couldn't be wanton. Could she? The confusion must have been on her face because he offered her a gentle smile. "You are wanton, Nisha, though you don't believe me. I can prove it to you. Its there, so easy to see."

"I think you've had too much to drink, Lucius," she whispered, fighting the urge to get up and run. Something about the way he was looking at her scared her like nothing else. As if she were a small rabbit and he a large wolf about to swallow her whole. Never before had anyone stared at her with such singular intent and it was all she could do not to bolt.

"I'm all grown up, Nisha. I can manage my liquor quite well," he replied steadily, then got to his feet. Slowly, he moved around his desk and toward the chair where she sat. When he offered her his hand, she took it with a small amount of hesitation. Easily, Lucius pulled Nisha to her feet before him. He stared down at her for a long time, then slipped past her and took her chair. Even as she was turning, he was helping her into his lap so that she straddled his legs.

The muscles in Lucius' thighs were hard and tight beneath her bottom and Nisha couldn't help the low moan that rolled up her throat and out of her mouth. There was a slight tightening low in her belly and a ticklish kind of feeling when he shifted his legs so that his thigh pressed tightly against the soft flesh between her own legs. "This is why you're wanton, Nisha. Its written all over you in the curves of your body."

His hands came up and stroked through the thick, glossy tresses of her hair, his fingers gently cupping the back of her neck to urge her closer to him. "Its in your lush lips, pouting ever so slightly and begging to be kissed. Like this," he whispered the words with his mouth only inches from hers. Then he was kissing her, his lips hot and demanding as they moved over her mouth. She groaned at the feeling, her lips falling open to his. His tongue took possession of the interior of her mouth, seeking out all the hidden corners as he tasted her. Her back arched and she pressed herself to him.

His arms went round her back, pulling her tightly against him. All the while, his tongue continued to explore the cavern of her mouth. He mapped out each and every crevice between her teeth, slid his tongue along her own. He stole the breath from her mouth and gave it back to her, feeding her and feeding from her. She had no knowledge of her arms moving up and around his neck, locking behind the strong column to hold him close to her.

His hands were stroking her skin through the cotton of her night dress. His fingers were soft and gentle, burning with heat that sent something thick and heavy pulsing through her bloodstream. It occured to her then that what she was feeling now and all those odd little skittering feelings she'd been having were all because of desire. She'd never before felt desire for someone and so it startled her. But she sank into the feeling, liking the way Lucius made her feel.

Nisha knew that she was very naïve, but she knew enough to know that people felt things like lust and desire for one another. She also knew that there was such a thing as love. She herself had never felt these things. Until now. Now, she understood that the warm glow she was enveloped by each time she was in Lucius' presence came from desire. She wanted him in what she knew to be the basest manner there was. She'd never wanted a man like that before. Not a man or a boy. But she wanted Lucius to do things to her that no one had ever done to her before. And now, sitting here on his lap, she thought she might understand what it was she wanted him to do.

Lucius pulled back from her to stare into her eyes. Once again, they had gotten so dark that it seemed as if a storm were brewing in them. Nisha couldn't help but stare into them expectantly. She couldn't seem to look away. A small, lethal smile lifted the corners of his lips and she knew that she'd do whatever he wanted to make that smile stay there. "Your wantonness is in your hips, curved and full, beckoning a man to grasp them and drag you close to him. Like this," he whispered, his hot hands curling over her hips. Almost roughly, he jerked them closer to his waist. She felt the hard length of him pressed against one of her most intimate places and she couldn't hold back the shudder that was brought forth by the touch.

"Lucius," she moaned softly, her eyes half closed. His fingers flexed into her hips, then released her.

"Your arse, so nicely turned and shaped, is wanton. It moves with invitation, driving a man to distraction with need. So nicely rounded and perfectly heart shaped when naked, I imagine. I lay awake at night picturing my hands cupped over the cheeks of your bottom," he whispered, then did just that. His fingers slid down between her backside and his legs. She quivered when they shaped themselves to the curve of her flesh. His mouth swooped in and pressed kisses to her throat.

"Your pert breasts, still growing and filling out, yet begging for a man's mouth to suckle them. They, too, are wanton. I imagine that your nipples are a lovely dusky rose color and pucker tightly with need when someone touches them. With his hands and his mouth. Like this," his voice was still a low whisper. Her eyes rolled back in her head when his hands lifted, his palms covering perfectly the shape of her breasts. She felt her nipples respond to his touch, the heat of his palms bringing them to tight peaks. She moaned softly, her back arching into his touch.

His fingers kneeded at the soft flesh gently, sending more desire coursing through her body to pool in her crotch. Her hips shoved down, drving the hard length of his thigh up against the softness of her womanhood. She wanted something more, though she couldn't quite put a name on what it was. His hands moved slowly over her breasts, one of them slipping from the mound to slide down over her ribs.

"Most wanton of all is this part of you that is utterly feminine. A treasure trove of pure pleasure made for a man to touch, fondle, suck and invade," his voice was a low growl filled with what she was coming to realize was pleasure. The seeking hand invaded the tight space between them and slipped between her spread thighs. Even through the material of her nightgown, his hand burned her. She made some kind of gurgling sound, her back arching again as he pressed his fingers against the cloth of her gown, of her panties, against the heated flesh that was hidden there.

"Oh my gods," she moaned, her body suddenly going up in flames of need and want. All she knew was that she wanted him to fill her and invade that space he was currently cupping with his broad palm. His fingers were stroking along the seam of her lips, prodding them open and driving between them, urging her legs apart. She suddenly hated the barrier of clothing she wore and wanted nothing more than to tear it off and reveal herself to him. "Please," she begged, not entirely sure what it was she was begging for.

His mouth switched to her abandoned breast, drawing the tight bud of her nipple into the moist, hot cavern. She shuddered, her body going tight. She pressed into him, wanting more than he was giving her. His fingers stroked against her heated flesh, pressing further into her. The cloth of her panties, though of the softest cotton, was rough against such tender skin and it only served to make her want more.

His questing fingers were driving deeper between her swollen lips, pressing more of her clothing into her own body. She felt as if he were splitting her. No one had ever touched her in such a manner and the knowledge in his digits was driving her to total distraction. Her hips were moving, rocking slowly against his hand in the quest for completion. Nisha wasn't sure how that had happened, but she suspected that it was more instinct than anything else. It felt so good, what he was doing to her. His touches were building something inside of her. Something filling and amazing. She knew it was there, could feel it growing. She knew, when it hit its highest peak, that she would shatter with it. But she couldn't name what it was.

His mouth was moved back to the first breast, his hand moving down to cup her ass cheek once more. His fingers worked at her body slowly, gently building the tension within her. She could feel it coming to a head. She wanted to go over whatever edge she was coming to. She wanted Lucius to take her there. Her hips were moving faster, her breath panting from between her open lips. Her eyes were completely closed, her head tossed back on her shoulders. It was coming. It was going to happen. Whatever it was. And she wanted it.

Lucius drew back from her, pulling his hand and mouth away from her body. Nisha groaned, prying her eyes open to stare at him through eyes filled with lust. He smiled at her, lifting his hand to his lips so that he could suck on the fingers that had previously been buried inside of her. She watched him, her chest still heaving. "And finally, Nisha. There's your cunt. Its hot and sweet and tight, aching to be touched and filled," he told her, his voice still low.

She stared at him, breathless and without comment. "Your hot little cunt is the most wanton part of you," he told her with a knowing smile.

The memories slid away as Lucius' other hand slipped into her robe and cupped the other breast, his thumbs gently flicking back and forth over her nipples. She moaned softly, her body arching so that her breasts were pressed into his hands. Lucius had always known just how and where to touch her so that she'd respond quickly. Damn the bastard for his clever hands and mouth. A mouth which was now pressed tightly to her neck.

The feel of his lips against the skin of her neck brought her out of her lethargy and she jerked away from him. Slowly, she made her way past him and across the floor to stand before the mirror. She stared at herself, drowning in the haunted look that filled her eyes. The need and the desire she'd long repressed. The hate for what she was. "What's the matter, Nisha?" Lucius asked and she was sure she was imagining the concern in his voice. "You used to love my caresses."

"I still do, Lucius. And that is precisely what's the matter," she replied softly. He stared at her a moment, then began walking toward her. His footsteps were stopped, however, when a House Elf popped in and stared up at him with wide, frightened eyes.

"What is it?" he snarled at the cowering figure.

"Master Lucius," the Elf began. It's eyes flicked nervously toward Nisha, then back to the blonde towering over it.

"What is it? Spit it out, for Merlin's sake! Can't you see I'm busy?" he snarled. The Elf quivered and shifted back and forth on it's feet.

"Master Lucius, Mistress Narcissa is home and she be's looking for you," the Elf squeaked out, then vanished in a moment. Lucius lifted his gaze to Nisha, her reflection staring at him emotionlessly out of the mirror. She didn't blink or shift her eyes from his. Then she turned and moved for the bathroom.

"Your wife has returned, Lucius. I'm sure you've missed her," she said, her words dismissive. He stood there until the door shut behind her, then muttered a curse under his breath and stalked to the bedroom door, making sure to slam it behind him as he went out.

~*~*~*~*~

"I can't believe you found her," Narcissa purred, her tone full of pleasant surprise and joy. The door to Lucius' study was cracked open and, despite the fact that she knew better, Nisha stood at the opening, listening to their conversation. "How ever did you manage, darling?"

"A private detective. It was nothing, really. Anything to see you happy, my dear," Lucius replied, his voice a purr in the otherwise silent room. Nisha felt her heart contract. Even though she knew where she stood with him, it still hurt to think... to know that he thought so little of her that he would use her to make his wife happy. She had to get out. She had to leave the house and find someplace to hide again. Someplace where he couldn't find her this time.

"You actually spent money to find her?" Narcissa sounded surprised. "You do love me, don't you?"

"Of course I do, love. I'd do anything for you," he told her softly. Nisha frowned and turned to return upstairs. She should never have crept down here to see what was going on. But she couldn't not know the truth. And the truth hurt.

"I should like to have a girl this time. One of each. Maybe we'll get lucky and this child will look like Draco," Narcissa said wistfully. The words stopped Nisha in her tracks, the confirmation of his reasons for finding her piercing her heart like a knife. She hurried on silent feet to the stairs. As soon as the two of them were busy with something far more pressing than a discussion, Nisha was going to leave. She couldn't stay and allow the two of them to hurt her as they had previously. Not a second time.

Not ever again.

~*~

"....and she will be named after my great aunt, of course. I promised Mother that I would give any girl we had Aunt Tessa's name," Narcissa said, her eyes full of a wistful, far away look. Lucius watched her, knowing she could already see a girl in her head. He hadn't had time to tell Narcissa that it wouldn't be as simple this time as it had been the last. Nisha knew what he wanted and he could tell simply by looking at the rigid set to her shoulders and the lack of expression on her face that she was not going to be so easily fooled as she had been the first time.

He knew that what he had asked of her had hurt her. It had irrevocably wounded her like nothing else he could have done. And, to this day, nearly fourteen years later, she still hadn't forgiven them what they'd done to her. What they'd stolen from her. He would never admit it to anyone, not even to Severus or his wife, but he felt deeply guilty for the cruel manner in which he'd treated her. When he looked at Draco, he could feel the knife of shame twist a little more. Dig a little deeper. Of all the heartless and miserable things he'd done in his life, and there had been many, the way he'd treated Nisha had been the worst.

His mind wandered, shutting out the drone of Narcissa's dream child. As much as he wanted to please his wife and give her everything she wanted, everthing he felt she needed and deserved, he simply couldn't listen to her today. Instead, he fell into memories of the first night he'd felt more than NIsha's lips pressed against his skin. It was still a night of such importance that he held the memory in the highest regard and he could recall what happened with perfect clarity.

It had been another night filled with the soft, pathetic sobs of a woman denied the one thing she wanted most. The moment the first tear had fallen, Lucius had excused himself from their sleeping chambers and sought out the solitude of his study. He had known that the bottle of expensive bourbon he'd kept in his personal stores would be better company than his wife. He'd always hated slipping away from Narcissa when her sorrow had been so tangible, but he'd never been capable of handling her when her emotions were so raw. So he'd sought the solace and silence of his study.

And then she'd showed up.

"Lucius?" Nisha's voice was soft and curious and it brought his head up from his hands, where he'd put them in an attempt to prevent the overflow of thoughts and feelings from spilling out of him. If his father had taught him anything, it was that men did not show weakness by showing emotions. He lifted his head, his gaze finding her without fail. She stood close to his desk, clad only in a thin cotton shift. Even in the light of the lit candles and the fire burning low in the hearth, he could see the outline of her curves beneath the cloth.

"Good evening, Nisha. What brings you to my little corner of purgatory?" his voice was low and full of self-loathing. She didn't seem to notice, though. She simply stared at him with those large, golden eyes of her in an expectant way. He found it to be both exciting and oddly frightening. It was almost as if she was staring into his very soul.

"I couldn't sleep. I thought I'd take a walk and see if it tired me out. When I heard Narcissa sobbing, I knew I'd find you here. I thought I'd perhaps spend some time with you, if that's permissable?" she told him and he could hear the hope in her voice. He knew he should send her away, knew that he was too besotted with her for his own good. But he knew he wouldn't. She was the answer to his prayers. She was going to help he and Narcissa have their own child. It was cruel and wrong, what he wanted to ask of her. What he planned on doing to her. But he couldn't bear it when Narcissa cried so piteously and he would do anything to take that sorrow and pain from his beloved wife.

He didn't answer her right away. Instead, he simply studied her and noticed, not for the first time, the beauty she was going to be when she finished growing and filling out. Her eyes glowed golden in the light flickering around them, her hair a halo of red and gold flames that surrounded her. For a moment, he saw not the child she was, but a vision of some ancient, pagan goddess of war or fire. A mythical being of both beauty and power with the ability to destroy or create with a single thought, to enslave mere mortals with a single look. A deity to pay homage to.

"You're turning into such a beautiful young woman, Nisha," he told her in a voice he knew to be filled with need and desire. Just as his body was filled with need and desire. It happened each and every time he looked at her. His groin tightened painfully and his blood pounded in his veins. He shouldn't want her so fiercely, but he simply couldn't stop himself. "So beautiful and wanton."

There was confusion in her eyes. He knew she didn't understand what he meant by his statement. With a smile, he continued on. "You are wanton, Nisha, though you don't believe me. I can prove it to you. Its there, so easy to see."

She looked uneasy and made a comment about his having had too much to drink. He assured her that he was quite capable of drinking and remaining conscious enough to make coherent decisions. He stared at her a moment longer, then stood and moved toward her. Nisha was rooted to the spot, simply staring at him as he took the few steps that separated them. He stopped before her, his hand reaching out to take hers. Wordlessly, he helped her from the chair, then settled down into the abandoned seat. It was still warm with the heat from her body and he relished the feel of it against his backside. Before she could move away from him, he helped her into his lap.

Without instruction, she straddled his lap, her shins resting on the chair seat next to his thighs. With slow, meticulous care, Lucius proceeded to show her just how and where she was wanton.
"This is why you're wanton, Nisha. Its written all over you in the curves of your body. Its in your lush lips, pouting ever so slightly and begging to be kissed. Like this," he whispered the words with his mouth only inches from hers. Then he kissed her.

She tasted of a cool, gentle spring breeze and blue summer skies. She was fresh and new. Her lips were soft and lush, full and pressing back against his own as he explored them. When her mouth opened to his, he plunged his tongue deep inside and continued to taste the freshness of her youth and her sweet innocence. Her motions were slightly clumsy, but her willingness and eagerness to please him were genuine. Never before had he kissed someone so chaste and untutored. It excited him like nothing else had in quite some time.

She was trying to keep up with him, to mimic his actions. Their first kiss had been so very plain compared to this one. This kiss was wild and sensual, her tight body pressed so hard against his own. His thighs pushed against the flesh between her legs and, even through the cloth of his trousers, he could feel her mounting need. He had to force himself to break away from her to go on to the next part of her. It was difficult to do with her arms wound around his neck and her needy body so close to his.

"Your wantonness is in your hips, curved and full, beckoning a man to grasp them and drag you close to him. Like this," he told her on a whisper, using the low voice to keep her from finding out just how much he wanted and needed her. He curled his hands around her hips, dragging her closer so that she could feel all of him. He felt her body quiver with the contact. She moaned out his name, telling him that she felt the growing desire as strongly as he did. "Your arse, so nicely turned and shaped, is wanton. It moves with invitation, driving a man to distraction with need. So nicely rounded and perfectly heart shaped when naked, I imagine. I lay awake at night picturing my hands cupped over the cheeks of your bottom."

His hands did as he'd imagined so many times of late. They curled tightly over the curves of her bottom, his fingers squeezing the firm mounds through the cloth of her panties. He wanted to feel the silk of her skin, but didn't think it wise to push her too far this first time. He wanted her to come to him, filled with an aching need that only he could tend to. It was like heaven to be sitting there with her, touching her in ways he'd only imagined. He leaned in to press a series of kisses to her throat, loving the soft feel of the column beneath his lips.

"Your pert breasts, still growing and filling out, yet begging for a man's mouth to suckle them. They, too, are wanton. I imagine that your nipples are a lovely dusky rose color and pucker tightly with need when someone touches them. With his hands and his mouth. Like this," he was still whispering, knowing that the low pitch of his voice would go far in arousing her passions and needs. Then he showed her just how a man touched a woman, his hands working gently at the still developing hills of her breasts. She was melting against him, her body arching toward his hands and mouth, silently pleading with him to give her something more.

Her nipples were hard pebbles against his palms, her breasts soft and firm to the touch. He wished he could feel them without the night dress between them, but he'd wait for that opportunity to come later. When she was aching for him inside and out. When she wanted nothing more than to have him plunder every inch of her skin and each part of her body. Inside and out. It didn't stop his own need from growing though, and he wondered if she would stop him if he attempted more than simply touching.

Something told him she wouldn't mind at all. She was moaning, her hips rocking against his straining erection in a mindless reaction to the pleasure coursing through her body. That was more than he'd hoped for when he started this little exercise in bringing her to heel. In training her to come to enjoy and desire his touch. In making her want him with a deep desperation. It was time to let her know just how desirable and wanton she truly was.

He dropped a hand from her breast, allowing it to glide down over her quivering rib cage so that it could slip between their bodies and their legs. When his hand touched her moist underwear, she nearly came off his lap. "Most wanton of all is this part of you that is utterly feminine. A treasure trove of pure pleasure made for a man to touch, fondle, suck and invade," he told her, then proceeded to show her just how much he wanted to do those things.

His fingers drove between her swelling nether lips, his body tightening to feel the moisture pooling there. She was more than ready for him in a physical manner, but she wasn't in a mental manner. Not yet. She was still innocent to much of the world and he wasn't going to take it from her as if he were raping her innocence away. He would show her the world of pleasure gradually and introduce her to the hedonisitic life style with grace and dignity, so that she would never be able to think of sex without thinking of him.

She was moaning softly, her body rubbing against him mindlessly. He could feel the tightening of her muscles, speaking of impending orgasm. With more ferver, he pressed his fingers into her body. They went a little deeper, the cotton of her panties preventing complete penetration. She didn't seem to notice or care. She was mindless with pleasure. Her breath came in soft pants and he dropped his head to her breast, taking the tight peak of her nipple into his mouth to suckle at it. She reacted almost violently. She was going to be wonderful when he finally took her. So tight and responsive. And all for him.

She was almost to the point of tumbling over the edge of sanity and into the abyss of sensual insanity brought on by orgasm. He could tell by the way she vibrated against him. He couldn't let that happen. Not yet. If he did so, he'd have to start over the next time because he knew she'd question the right and wrong of what she'd allowed him to do. If he was to groom her to his hand and make her desire him enough to do whatever he asked of her, he was going to have to bring her to orgasm slowly. In stages, so that she would never doubt her decision. He was going to make her need him.

Lucius sighed and drew back from her quite regretfully, his gaze fixed on the rapture that painted her face. "And finally, Nisha. There's your cunt. Its hot and sweet and tight, aching to be touched and filled," he told her, his voice still low. She stared at him expectantly, her chest heaving. "Your hot little cunt is the most wanton part of you."

Lucius had left her in need of fulfillment that night. He'd gently put her from his lap and then stood, escorting her to her room. The entire trip upstairs, she had unapologetically stared at the lines of his erection, pressing tight to the cloth of his trousers so that it was completely outlined for one and all to see. He didn't say anything, knowing that her curiosity would help drive her into seeking him out when the time was right. At her door, he'd kissed her good night, secretly smiling at the hungry manner with which she'd responded to him. She'd thrown her arms around him and pressed herself to him tightly.

Drawing from his memories, Lucius looked at Narcissa. She was still droning on about the baby to come. About the baby she wasn't yet carrying. She hadn't noticed his lapse in attention, for which he was greatful. That was the start of some of the happiest days of their lives. And it was also the start of the end. It was the day that he'd lost part of his heart to a girl with large golden eyes, the body of a temptress and the soul of an innocent.

He'd been doomed ever since.

~*~*~*~*~

Nisha stared out the window at the grounds with a deep sorrow in her heart. She couldn't stay, no matter how much she wanted to. Lucius and Narcissa would use her again. She felt it more strongly now than she had when she'd first woken in his house two weeks ago. She couldn't let them use her again. Not like they had the first time. Not when she now knew what it was that had happened. She didn't think she'd live through that kind of pain again. Finding out what she'd done that first time had nearly killed her.

Glancing down at herself, she frowned. Not what she thought she should be leaving in, but it would have to do. She very well couldn't be caught running about the country side in her bath robe. She'd found actual clothing hanging neatly in the armoire. It had all been in the right size for her, telling her that Lucius had planned things out carefully. She was clothed in a rich gown of the softest and finest linen, a deep green color that complimented her eyes and drew the highlights out in her hair. The robes were of a lighter shade, trimmed in gold thread. There had even been a pair of shoes to wear with it. Sadly, the ensemble had been the least extravagant of the lot.

She knew from past experience that Lucius and Narcissa would be preparing for the evening meal, so it was a perfect time for her to slip from the house. Once outside, she planned on Apparating to Diagon Alley. From there, she was going to simply disappear. Sighing, Nisha decided that she'd put off the inevitable for far too long and turned for the door. As silent as church mouse, she crept from the room and out into the hall.

Moments later, Nisha found herself standing out in front of the house, staring at the vast expanse of grounds before her. Almost forlornly, she glanced at the large doors closed firmly behind her. She was never going to go back again. Determined, Nisha strode down the steps and up the walk. Nothing was going to stop her from leaving.

"Going somewhere, Nisha?" the silky voice stopped her in her tracks and a panic she'd never known welled up inside of her. Damn it all to hell, she'd been caught.

end chapter six.
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as always, thanks go to my usual crew for all their love and support. extra special thanks go to my kitty cat fo all her help and encouragement. and for letting me use her as a sounding board despite the fact that she actually has yet to read this fic all the way through. love you muchlies, hon.

i know that most of this was repetitive, but i thought, as i wrote Nisha's recollections of things that it might be good to see the same event from Lucius' eyes. the two of them are almost more important than Narcissa. at least up to this point. that will eventually change, further into the story. so please, i beg your forgiveness and hope that you enjoy it.

if you like this, please feel free to let me know.