Dirty Little Secret

Title: Dirty Little Secret
Author: lucretziathevagabond (Miss Jo1)
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: In the wild fantasies of my mind, I own the HP verse, Jason Isaacs and millions of dollars to spend traveling in Europe and drinking good wine. In reality, I own nothing but my perverted imagination and my beat up laptop. JKR et al. owns the HP-verse. Jason Isaacs is owned by his wife (at least I hope she does, and cracks the whip to keep him in line on occasion). Lucky women.

Chapter 7: The Goals
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Lucius stood staring out the window, his tie untied and his crisp linen shirt open as he looked out at the Paris nightscape. Twinkling lights lit up the Eiffel Tower, and he smiled softly at the thought of Christmas being only three weeks away. Earlier in the evening, he had slipped away to place an order with a goblin jeweler, one of the best in Europe. Hermione would love his gift to her; a thick gold bangle studded with baguette diamonds that reminded him of the candlelight sparkling off of the Hall of Mirrors in Versailles. Hermione had been taken in by the former monarch’s residence, and as a muggleborn knew several stories about the Sun King and the later French Revolution that he had never heard.

Hermione had been a blessing to him so far this season. When he had last been in Paris for winter season with Narcissa, they had been invited to only two major events and no private parties at all. Narcissa had made a note when each event they were not invited to had occurred, and had sulked the entire evening. He had never been so glad to leave the City of Lights.

French society, and indeed Belgian society had taken to Hermione with a passion. Her manners were impeccable, and she was always ready to smooth out an awkward situation. Unlike Narcissa, who believed that the world must bend to her whims, Hermione had made the attempt to brush up her rusty French before leaving for the continent and had been very well received for it. They had been to a dizzying array of events during the past week; from premieres to museum openings, from balls to banquets. Yet, she had held up marvelously. With the exception of her tendency to begin to slump when exhausted, he had no fault to find with her.
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A sound drew him from the window. His witch had come from the bath, dressed in a sapphire sheer gown that hid absolutely nothing. Her rosy nipples were poking against the sheer fabric, and he could see the dark strip of hair that marked her mons. That was another thing he loved about her: her silky skin and love of beautiful things. For a man approaching middle age, to have a lithe and wanton witch ready to ravish his body was a definite esteem booster.

“I thought you would join me in the bath.” He pulled her to him, feeling the heat radiate off of her. She smelled of herbs, he realized.

“I was lost in thought, my love.”

He kissed her softly, feeling her heart pound beneath her sheer gown. She pulled away, walked over to the window and drew the drapes.

His eyes widened as he saw her reach for her new wand. She had gotten it from the same wandmaker as many of Europe’s diplomats, a tiny shop in Brussels that had been in business since the 1400’s. Her wand contained phoenix feather and veela hair; an unusual and volatile combination. The mother of pearl grip was beautiful, and Lucius was pleased with the quality. He was not pleased however, by the look in her eye as she pointed it at him.

“On the bed, now.”

A frisson of fear wormed its’ way through him. Was she playing? He had never heard her take such a dominant tone with him before. It was actually a bit arousing, but just in case… he looked for his wand, carelessly left in his robes by the door.

“Lucius, get on the bed, on your back. Do it now…or I’ll make you.”

He stood his ground. “My love, what do you think you are…”

His body flew back onto the bed, onto the soft mattress. Silk cords, the same ones used to tie back the drapes were restraining him as his arms were secured to the bedposts. With a swish of her wand, his clothes vanished from his body. He tugged at his bonds; they were tight enough that he couldn’t escape. Damn it.

She circled the bed, tapping the wand in her hand.

“Now that I have your attention, Lucius. I have some complaints that I believe you need to listen to.”

“Let me go, and we can discuss them like adults.”

“I think not. You always find a way to distract me, and then I don’t get my issues taken seriously. This time, I want you to pay attention.” She cast a silencing spell on the room.

He pulled at the ropes. “Hermione, my love, let me out of these. I promise that I will listen. I don’t like being confined.” He hated the pleading tone of his voice.

She snorted as she looked at his groin. “Clearly, your body likes this.” He was hard, standing proudly at attention. His face flushed.

“Granger, let me out of these” he snarled. “I am in control here, not you.”

“I beg to differ.” She reached out and ran her fingernail down his flank, listening to him hiss. “We are in private, my jeweled serpent. This is my domain, and I am in control.”

He thrashed helplessly for several moments and attempted to summon his wand. Nothing happened. What had she done?

He stilled, his eyes like shards of ice as she crawled on the bed. Her breasts were heavy and soft, and he longed to suckle them. Fine, he would play her game, as long as he was rewarded at the end. Without warning, she sunk her teeth into his inner thigh. He howled as she latched on, then pulled away.

“What do you think you’re doing, witch?” His body responded to the display of dominance.

“First, I would like to discuss my role here. I have played your game, taken your lessons and charmed my way into your society. I have also been an ally to you since you tricked me into that contract, and you have done nothing to help my reputation. Why has Skeeter not been punished for what she’s written? Why is Pegram still allowed free movement? You haven’t done anything to fix this.”

“My love…”

“Answer the question” she demanded.

“We are working on it. We have Marchwood from the Wizengamot, and two Ministry officials on board. We just can’t have him formally investigated; if he spills about the true purpose of the meetings, we’ll have a public spectacle on our hands. It will help no one. “

She dragged her sharp nails down his chest, leaving trails of pinkened flesh. He gritted his teeth. Dear Merlin, he was aroused.

“So what is your plan? Plus, what about Skeeter?”

“We continue to work on Pegrams hold with the Ministry. In the meantime, we are interacting with diplomats whose power is greater than that of the Ministry. Even if we are unable to get him fired, we can get him reassigned to an outpost in Siberia or something.”

She crawled on top of him, forcing his head back and nipping at his sensitive neck. Her core rubbed across his arousal, and he bucked up. She slapped him across the face.

“Malfoy, I want Pegram begging; I want Skeeter to crawl under a rock and never come out. You promised me you’d fix this, now I want it done. Do you understand? If you don’t, I’ll find someone who will.”

“Yes, my love. We just need more time. We go back to England Friday, and once there we can work on Skeeter. Then we can go to work on Pegram.” He bucked again. She sneered.

“You are so whipped, Malfoy. Here I am, covering you in bites and bruises and all you want is my cunt, isn’t it? You care for nothing else but to be inside me, do you?” She flushed as she said the words, not used to talking dirty but Lucius obviously loved it.

He hissed as she crawled off him to look at his member. He was rock hard, and deep red, with fluid forming at the tip. He looked down at her desperately, his eyes begging as he twisted in his bonds.

With a triumphant smile, she turned her attention to his cock. Running her tongue from base to tip, she encircled it with her fist and began to work him, alternating pumps with deep sucking that made his eyes nearly cross.

“Take it all”, he begged. All of it, my love.” She obliged, and minutes later, he was thrusting erratically, ready to explode. She stopped, crawling up until she was even with him, and guided him to her entrance.

She did most of the work, but thankfully neither needed much stimulation. Lucius erupted within minutes, moaning her name. It was certainly not one of his best performances, but was probably one of his most memorable ones. Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine she would dominate him, even as innocent and inexperienced as her attempt was. She released him from his bonds, and he flipped them over pressing her into the mattress and attempting to catch his breath as he pressed kisses all over her face, neck and throat.

“My love, you are full of surprises.” She blushed, and wiped sweaty hair from her face.

“I’ve never done that before” she admitted. “I just remembered that you wanted to…I mean, your fantasies.” Her voice trailed off, and she refused to look at him. He smiled at her, and whispered in her ear.

“You are my fantasy, my love. Everything you are, everything you will become-you are my goddess.”

She tried to fight the tears as she looked away. Surely this was him being manipulative, attempting to win her over after she confronted him. Yet, he seemed so honest, so real. She was ashamed of feeling so needy, but gave in to the urge to wrap her arms around him as they fell asleep, not really aware of how much their life was going to change.
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As the sun rose, Lucius came to wakefulness, his internal clock rousing him despite the heavy drapes that were pulled to block the light. Gazing down at his sleeping witch, he reached out to move an errant curl from her face. Pressing a kiss to her temple, he rested his head next to hers and breathed deeply as he took in her scent.

He had awakened with an absolute conviction that he was going to deepen their relationship; find a way to make her his wife permanently. To do that, he needed to get Pegram and Skeeter out of the way. Clearly, the most expedient way was to provoke a confrontation and then react. Both would be easy to rile; he knew what buttons to push. The obvious problem was of course, that Hermione would be put at risk, a price he was not willing to pay.

Which left of course, manipulation and deception. This was certainly more interesting, but slower and more complicated. If he could somehow bring down Potter and Weasley; the two who would have been nothing without Hermione, it would just be an added bonus. He disentangled himself from his sleeping witch, and crawled out of bed to head for the shower. Today was to be a busy one: Hermione had been invited to attend two fashion shows with the Countess of Bourdeaux, and he was scheduled to attend a Quidditch match between the French Falcons and the Belgian Bulls.

Summoning an elf, he ordered two cups of coffee and the sweet pain au chocolat that Hermione had become so fond of since their arrival. She was beginning to rouse from sleep and would be hungry. Turning to enter the shower, he glanced at her fondly. Soon, she would be his.


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Lucius winced as he sat down in the plush chair of the Top Box; he hadn’t bothered to heal the deep bite on his inner thigh before coming to the match. The Duke of Normandy sat next to him, smiling as he watched his new friend seat himself rather gingerly.

“Ah, the price of having a young lover. I know the feeling only too well” he said, grinning.

Lucius grinned in return, as he leaned back. “I hope to be able to introduce her next season as my wife. That is my plan anyway.”

The Duke nodded. “She seems to be very smitten with you. I can say with certainty that she is well respected in our court. My wife in particular finds her a treasure. When I mentioned her name to my daughter Astrid, she told me that she went to University with your Miss Granger. She is a Potions researcher, is she not?”

“She is trained to do so. Unfortunately, she decided to work from the ground up so to speak, and ended up languishing in a position far below her abilities. Miss Granger is incredibly modest, and didn’t make further attempts to rise in the company.” The two watched the players dive and weave as they sipped their wine.

“Ah, modesty. It is such a rare find in young people today. Astrid told me an odd story about Miss Granger coming back to the dormitories, dirty and bleeding and near death. Apparently she spent almost a week in the infirmary.”

Lucius’ face was grim. “Yes, that was following the final battle. Again, it was a situation where others took credit for her work. She is a courageous young woman.”

The Falcons Beater slammed into the window of the TopBox before taking off again.

“I have always found that these things eventually have a way of working themselves out.” The Duke said, twirling the wine glass between his fingers.

“I certainly hope so.” The two men then turned their attention to the match.
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Coming Up Next: The First Strike Against Skeeter