Sugar Quills

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this tale, and receive no proceeds from it. All borrowed courtesy of Ms. J.K. Rowling.

Lucius lay in Hermione’s narrow bed, stroking her silken length of hair. How odd that he had thought of it as a sort of non-descript brown. It was a rich coffee color, shot through with russet strands that brightened the whole mass. It looked as if the setting sun had lit her locks as the orb disappeared into the horizon. He bowed his head and inhaled her essence. Again she smelt of sunlight. She smelt of youth, goodness and naiveté. She smelt of him. Even now the thought of her limbs entwined with his own aroused him. After he had spent the night reveling in her passion that he could still so easily respond astounded him. It seemed their night had only exacerbated his need, rather than assuaged it. It was most unnerving.

Hermione turned towards him, her face sweet in its slumber. Lucius woke her with a light kiss. The corners of her mouth lifted. Her eyes opened and looked directly into his. She lifted a hand and cupped his cheek.

“Is that all you have?” she teased. “Here I am, a woman woken by her lover, only to receive a chaste kiss? Fie, sir, you’ll have to do better. Indeed, I don’t think I can rouse myself to do aught to please you without some sort of boon.”

Lucius laughed low and husky. “Regressing a bit, are we? And what do you mean boon? Isn’t the sight of me enough to ‘rouse’ you? If not, I’ll have to work on your manners. One should always be grateful to dedicated teachers. Especially when they are free.”

Suddenly, Hermione caught sight of the clock. Classes! She had completely forgotten that she had Advanced Arithmancy first period. She would have to run to get there on time.

“Lucius, I’m late for class, but I really do need to speak with you,” Hermione jumped from the bed and started rooting about her wardrobe for clothing. “Do you think you could meet me sometime today?”

Leaning back with his hands behind his head, Lucius absorbed the sight of Hermione’s nude form bouncing about in a frenzy. “Actually, I have a rather busy day. I’m meeting with my lawyers about a matter of some importance. Surely class can wait. I bet you have never missed a class. Be adventurous,” he taunted, “and imagine what could happen, if you were late just this once.”

Hermione was already in her underwear. She pulled on a t-shirt and returned to the bed. She sat next to Lucius and began to draw her socks on to her feet.

“I guess I can be a little late,” she began to chew on the corner of her mouth in a nervous manner. “Lucius, I’ve thought of your offer to tour Europe with you…”

Lucius cut her off mid-sentence. “You needn’t worry about that any longer. My offer is rescinded. I wouldn’t want you to compromise your ideals. After all being a married man’s mistress is hardly the ‘profession’ for a bright witch like you. It’s much better that we have a more informal relationship.”

If he saw her eyes widen in dismay, he gave no indication. Instead Lucius lifted Hermione under her arms and deposited her onto his lap. Kissing her deeply, he drew a scorching response. As his lips trailed down her neck he murmured, “Now let’s make sure your tardiness is worth the while.”

It was many classes later that a livid Hermione Granger cursed Lucius viciously. After Lucius’ lingering goodbye and a much-needed shower, Hermione had found a note on her bed. At first she had been touched that Lucius had left her a note, but when she opened it that changed.

“Dear Hermione,” it read, “I have enjoyed our time together immensely. However, now that Narcissa has finally agreed to a divorce, I realise that I am free to enjoy all the pleasures I denied myself throughout marriage. While I do not anticipate seeing you any time in the near future, please do not hesitate to call upon me should you need my assistance.

Fondly,

Lucius.”

Hermione stared at the paper, positive that she must have read the sheet wrong. She did not know about the divorce. But she knew from experience that Lucius let little interfere with his ‘pleasures.’ What nonsense! Then she caught sight of a small paper. She realised as she scanned it that it was a bank draft. A bank draft with her name for thousands of galleons. Pain ripped through her. She had protested a lengthy affair on the basis that it would label her a whore. Nevertheless, Lucius had treated her exactly as such. She knew it was deliberate. He wanted to make a point.

She clutched the draft in her hand about to rend it into a million pieces. Her hand stopped, and folded it neatly into little rectangles. She would need a reminder. A reminder of her foolishness and carelessness. A reminder to never trust a wizard with cool eyes and heated hands ever again. Hermione shut her eyes and vowed never to be taken in by Lucius or any of his ilk ever.

Later that night Hermione had the nagging sense that she had forgotten something. What it could be she could not imagine. As she drifted off she thought, “Well, if it is very important, I’ll surely know. And if it is not, it does not matter now.” In hindsight Hermione would always remember her thoughts that night, and wonder what might have been if she had realised just what she had forgotten.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lucius left his solicitor’s office feeling very satisfied. He had set into motion his plan. His lips pulled into a grim smile. Already the first phase had taken place. He could imagine Hermione’s fury when she saw the bank draft. She would probably tear it to shreds. He knew that soon she would regret that moment of anger. By the time he was done with Miss Granger, she would be on her hands and knees begging. And he would graciously save her from her folly.

In the interim, he knew he would have to turn to others for gratification. When he reached home, he flooed Madam Lotus and requested her freshest girl. He knew he would be charged extra, but in the mood he was in, he did not care.

When he saw the girl Madam Lotus had chosen, he was pleasantly surprised. Her jet-black hair fell in a silken waterfall down her back, and her skin was a creamy café au lait. She gazed shyly at Lucius with enormous hazel eyes, flecked with gold. Her body was lithe, and she moved with a budding sensuality. She was just what he needed to forget Hermione for a while.

“My name is Sandhya, and I am your gift tonight,” her voice washed over him low and throaty. It screamed sex.

“Sandhya,” he repeated, “What does it mean?”

“It is Sanskrit for ‘evening.’ And ‘this ‘evening’ I am yours.” Sandhya took Lucius’ hand in her own soft one and led him to the bed.

That night, after Sandhya’s departure, Lucius dreamt of Hermione. In his dream they worked together. They were at the Ministry, in his old office. Here wae was his secretary. She wore her hair wound tightly into a horrid bun, and her voluminous robes hid everything of her underneath its death-like shroud.

His door was open, and he could see Hermione from his desk. He saw her pick up something, and saw it was a sugarquill. She began to lick it just like she had in detention. Her pink tongue massaged the sweet and Lucius knew he wanted her to lick him, just like that.

Clearing his throat he called, “Miss Granger. May I see you for a moment?”

Hermione made her way to Lucius’ office and stood uncertainly at the door, “You called sir,” she asked.

“Yes, come in.” Lucius was at the door in seconds and shut it firmly behind them.

Lucius sent Hermione a steamy look. There was no doubt as to why he had closed the door. She turned to escape. Lucius placed his hands on either side of her, effectively blocking her in place. Her eyes widened in fear and surprise.

Lucius moved forward pressing himself into her, forcing her awareness of his sex. It was rigid and screamed for satisfaction. He moved swiftly to plunder her mouth. How delicious she was! His tongue stroked her and teased her response to life. He felt Hermione’s arms creep around his shoulders to hold him closer to her.
He stripped her hair of its pins allowing the mass to tumble unchecked down her back. Lucius plunged his fingers into the wild silk of her mane. Using her hair to draw her to him, he kissed her ravenously. He massaged her scalp in the same rhythm as his oral strokes.

Her tiny hands tore at his clothing. She caressed everything in reach. Lucius couldn’t wait any longer. He ripped her robes open to reveal her…she was completely nude! She leaned against the door, breathing heavily, wearing nothing but her sexy ‘stay ups.’ Sweet Merlin, how could he survive this!

Lucius picked her up, spread her legs high and sank his length into her in one stroke. He paused, and absorbed the feel of her around him. He pulled both legs down and wrapped himself in her. Lucius kissed Hermione wildly as he pounded into her. The door shook with the force of his thrusts. His large hands gripped her bottom cheeks fiercely, marking them.

“Hermione, come for me,” he growled. “I want to feel you come all over me. Come for me, love.”

Hermione’s eyes glazed over at his words.

“Lucius, you feel so big. Please stop. I can’t take anymore.” Hermione begged. “Oh God, stop, stop…I can’t . Lucius! Lucius!” her cry seemed to echo in the office. He felt her come apart in his arms. Her moist core gripped him tightly. She was soon limp in his arms.

Lucius roused her with caresses and kisses. He was not spent yet and intended to have more of her.

“Can you feel my cock in you? You feel so tight, and hot. Do you want more?” he twisted his hips and ground himself into her. “Do you want me come in your pussy?”

“No,” replied dream-Hermione. “Come in my face. I want to taste you. I want you in my mouth.”

Unable to help himself at her entreaty, Lucius withdrew and let her body fall softly to the floor. Hermione eagerly placed her lips over his cock. Lucius watched her head rise and fall over him and began to fuck her face. He pumped himself with force into her torrid mouth. He was amazed at how good her tongue felt as she licked secret spots that sent shocks through him. He erupted on her face, spattering her with his seed. Hermione licked her lips and sucked his spasming cock into her mouth to finish milking him.

Waking abruptly, Lucius found the sheets soaked with semen. He groaned in frustration. This damned witch would surely be the death of him.