Girl Talk

Scenario 8: A Witch’s Temper





For Vic.





Lucius Malfoy’s hand came up to block the door that Hermione was attempting to slam in his face as they entered her home. He was in trouble; she had been giving him the cold shoulder since they left the country club. He really didn’t understand why, he had donated more than he usually did to the library fund and not because he was feeling particularly generous but because it was important to her. Still she was as frosty as an icebox and he had no idea why.





He locked and warded the door behind him and watched her toss her little handbag onto the table in her foyer. She jerked the jeweled combs from her hair and tossed them into a little basket, her hair tumbling down her back and over her shoulders in a shiny cascade of bouncy curls. He had to catch his breath as he watched her; she was definitely a prize, his prize for a life of misery. If only she wasn’t currently pissed off at him for some unknown reason.





“Are you ever going to tell me what sin it is I committed?” He leaned his cane against the table and removed his top robe and hung it from one of the hooks on the hall tree. She turned around, her whiskey eyes sparking in anger.





“As if you don’t know!” She practically growled at him and he was ashamed to admit that her anger aroused him. Hell, everything about her aroused him. He shook his head slowly as he played the evening over in his head, nothing stood out to him, he was at a loss.





“I am sorry, Darling; I have no idea what you are talking about.” He said softly as he loosened his tie and the top three buttons on his shirt.





“Liar! I saw you with that raven haired pureblood prostitute while I was speaking with Kingsley.” She snapped as she kicked off her shoes, taking great satisfaction in the thud they made when they hit the wall and then clattered to the floor. She didn’t see Lucius raise his brows and purse his lips in surprise at her little display of temper.





“Raven haired pureblood prostitute?” Lucius thought on it for a moment before the corner of his mouth lifted in an amused smirk. “Would that be Ms. Parkinson that you refer to?” Her eyes narrowed and he actually heard her teeth click together.





“Don’t play innocent with me, Lucius. I saw her practically shoving her….boobs in your face!” The angry little spitfire turned on her heel and stomped off through the house at a determined little clip. He couldn’t help but grin, his little witch was jealous, and he loved it.







“I didn’t realize you were privy to my conversation with her.” Lucius said slowly as he removed his cufflinks and timepiece and tossed them into the little basket with her hair combs. He was a little more careful about the removal of his shoes however, sliding his feet from the dragonhide and setting them neatly beneath the table.







“I wasn’t, I just happened to look over from across the room to see my wizard smiling and chatting with a half naked little hussy in the corner!” She disappeared into her kitchen and he could hear her slamming cabinet doors and rifling through drawers. With a smile on his face he followed her, leaning in the doorway of the miniscule kitchen and watching her as she struggled to open a bottle of wine, mangling the cork in her frustration.







“Give that to me. And she wasn’t half naked, she was wearing a dress.” Lucius said, taking the bottle from her and with a simple incantation the cork popped from the bottle’s neck. He handed it back to her and she snatched it from his hand and poured herself a rather healthy glass full. “You aren’t going to offer me a drink?”







“No, I don’t like you and that wasn’t a dress that was….underwear.” She said before taking a long swallow of the sweet red wine.







“Not so long ago you were telling me that you thought you loved me.” He said as he retrieved a glass and poured himself a drink.







“Yes well, now I’m rethinking it.” She said.







“Because you think I was flirting with that young woman?” He reached into a black crock near her stove and withdrew a strange looking silver mallet; it looked like a troll hammer with a textured end. “What in the hell is this?”







“It’s a meat tenderizer.” She snatched it from his hand and shoved it back into the crock. “And I saw you talking to her.”







“I had no choice, Darling. I was speaking with the warden of Azkaban when she came up and insinuated herself between us.” He rather liked her jealous. Her cheeks became rosy and her eyes stormy. It was making him hard as hell.





“Then you should have just extricated yourself and went somewhere else.” She said as she slipped past him and carried her drink through the house.





“But that would have been rude, Darling.” He said, following along behind her and admiring the way the slim fitting black dress hugged her curves. She had a beautiful behind and he enjoyed every opportunity to admire the round, cushy flesh.







“I really don’t give a damn.” She said over her shoulder as she stepped into her bedroom. “You didn’t have to stand there staring into her cleavage.”





She sat her glass on her dressing table and pulled her hair aside. Lucius placed his glass beside hers and dutifully reached for her zipper and slid it slowly down to the small of her back. It suddenly hit him how comfortable they had gotten, how easy they were together that such a thing had become habit, that she didn’t even have to ask for his assistance.





“She would have had to have had cleavage for me to be speaking into it.” He chuckled. Hermione spun around quickly, her glare a sure sign that he had definitely said the wrong thing.







“So you were looking!” She growled and jerked her arms out of the sleeves of her dress. She shoved the fabric down angrily and then stepped out of it, shaking it with a loud snap of material before she walked off into her wardrobe to hang it up.





“Hermione, I tower over most women, I have no choice but to look down when I am speaking to them, it doesn’t mean that I am staring at their breasts!” He said. Being tall certainly made admiring cleavage easier, but he refused to tell her that. As far as she would ever know hers was the only cleavage he would ever look at. Though he had to admit, hers was the only one that gathered a response from him anymore.





“You are such a liar! My friends, aside from Ginny, are all men! I know how you creatures operate!” She said as she stepped back into the bedroom. Lucius could barely contain his groan at the sight of her wearing the black demi-bra, her breasts plumped deliciously above the lacy cups and jiggling slightly in her agitation. She had a black satin half slip on and he wondered if she were wearing the matching knickers underneath it.







“Do not loop me in with your friends, they are young, idiotic fops led by their cocks while I am a mature, sophisticated man in perfect control over his baser instincts.” Lucius drawled leaning back against her dressing table.





“Right and I was Voldemort’s love slave.” She snorted with a roll of her eyes as she walked into the bathroom.







“Bastard would never have been so lucky.” Lucius muttered as he walked over to the doorway to watch her. She had twisted her hair back and was washing away her makeup. “I did not have, nor do I have, any interest in that brazen little tart. She is a gold digger, plain and simple.”





He watched her scrub her face and he worried she was being too rough. One of his favorite parts of the evening was when she would wash away the mask and reveal that soft, dewy skin. He loved creamy color of her skin, the rose in her cheeks, then scent of the moisturizer she was now slathering on her face and neck. He watched her do the same thing every night and each time she looked up at him she was more beautiful than the last time. Except this time she was mad as hell.





“And I am a mudblood, but you still seem to enjoy shagging me every chance you get.” She snapped, pushing past him back into her bedroom.







“I have been very good of late about that word; I would appreciate it if you would respect my attempts to curb my usage of it by limiting your own!” He said tightly as he watched her toss the ridiculous number of decorative pillows on her bed into a wicker basket that she kept under her bed to hold them all at night. He went to the other side of the bed and helped her fold the handmade quilt down to the foot of the bed. He never figured out why he wasn’t allowed to cover up with it, not that he needed it, she kept her little house overly warm in his opinion.







“Oh please! I have no doubts that you and your pureblood compatriots sit around talking all about the magnificent Lucius Malfoy and his mudblood sex pet!” She jerked the top sheet and plush blanket back roughly







“I would kill any wizard who dared to say a word about you!” Lucius was growing angry now. That she would even consider that he would talk about her so poorly behind her back. He would have thought that she had figured things out by now. “You are pushing me, Hermione.”





“Pffft, you don’t frighten me anymore, Lucius. Your death eater days are over; your evil self has been effectively neutered.” She screamed when he suddenly climbed across her bed and pushed her back against the wall.





“Neutered am I?” He growled, nose to nose with the pissy little witch.





“Okay, maybe not neutered but definitely domesticated.” She said.





“You have a wicked little temper, Hermione.” He said low. “And a jealous streak.”





“I most certainly am NOT jealous of that nasty little pureblood slag!” She bristled. “You are my wizard and as long as you are I don’t want you flirting with or admiring other women’s cleavage!”





Her fierce possessiveness would have angered him in another woman, would have likely marked the end of their association, but with her it was a powerful aphrodisiac. Hearing her claim him with such fervor, to see the flush creeping over her throat and the fire in her eyes as she said it had him thanking the gods that he was older and more in control of his body because her words alone had his cock weeping profusely and aching to get inside her, to claim her just as thoroughly.







“I’ll say this one more time you little termagant. I was NOT flirting with the witch, nor was I admiring anything about the skinny little trollop.” He bent his head down and nipped her impudent little chin. “I only want you.”







“You just….” His hands were on her shoulders, jerking her slightly.







“I only want you.” He said again, forcefully. “Damn it you are a stubborn witch! What does a man have to do to prove himself to you?”







“Don’t turn this around on me! It isn’t my fault that you have a wandering eye!” Lucius slid his hands down to her ass and she suddenly found her back sliding up the wall as he lifted her. She clasped his shoulders and her thighs came up to encircle his hips instinctively.







“My eyes have not wandered any further than your delightful curves, nor has any other part of my anatomy. I have been completely faithful to you just as I promised you I would.” He said roughly, pressing his hips against her.







“You haven’t even been tempted?” She asked softly, her breath coming in short, raspy pants as she felt the evidence of his arousal pressed against her quickly dampening center.





“Not once.” He whispered, nibbling on her earlobe.







“Wait…I’m mad at you.” She moaned and rubbed against him involuntarily.





“Fine, be mad at me, but I’m still going to have you.” He said against the side of her throat.







“We can’t….oh god I can’t think when you do that…” She slid her hands to the back of his head and held on as he licked her throbbing pulse.





“So stop thinking.”







“We are supposed to be fighting, not….fucking.” She felt his teeth sink into her shoulder and knew that the dirty word had reached him. Ginny’s tutoring was paying off.







“We can do both.”







“A fuckfight?” She squealed when he spun away from the wall and tossed her onto the bed.







“Interesting concept.” He said. “You certainly have given me hell over Parkinson but what about you? Strutting around in that snug little dress wearing such racy under things. Who were you trying to tempt?”





Hermione narrowed her eyes and sat up on the edge of the bed.







“No one knew what I was wearing under the dress and I don’t strut. Unlike certain blond wizards.” She tucked her fingers into the open throat of his shirt and pulled, tearing the buttons free and sending them flying in all directions. Lucius was shocked at first, but then that slow, feral grin began to tug at his lips and he realized that he was in for a hell of a ride.





“You ruined a perfectly good silk shirt.” He said as he reached behind her and popped the catch on her bra. “You owe me, Hellcat.” He tucked his index finger between her breasts and tugged the garment forward and off of her, throwing it behind him carelessly.





He shrugged out of his ruined garment while her aggressive little hands unfastened his belt and trousers, shoving them down his legs to puddle around his feet. He kicked them aside and bent to remove his socks, yelping when she sank her teeth into his bare bottom.





“Hey!” He straightened, shocked and amused by the sly grin on her pretty little mouth. “You little she-devil, you bit me!”





“You should wear underwear.” She said unrepentantly. “There is no reason for you to be walking around giving other witches such easy access to my goodies.”





“Your goodies?” He gave her a light shove and she fell back onto the bed. He jerked the little half slip down and dropped it to the floor, taking a moment to admire the French cut black lace knickers she wore. “And why were you strolling about wearing such naughty lingerie beneath your dress? Accenting my goodies?”







“No one could possibly know what I was wearing under that dress. You on the other hand, every step you take has those trousers clinging to your bum and accentuating your…package.” She bit her lip and fought her blush. “And if your zipper slips then every witch in the place is going to see what is for my eyes only.”





“My zipper is spelled to remain closed unless I unzip it, for the record. However, it is interesting that you notice the fit of my trousers and the results of the fit on my…package. Do you spend a lot of time ogling me like some piece of meat?” He asked, sliding his hands up her thighs and beneath the sides of the soft lace at her hips.







“About as much time as you spend staring at my breasts.” She said, lifting her hips as he tugged the underwear down and off.







“That’s a lot of wasted time ogling each other when we could be doing something far more productive.” He said as he pushed her thighs open, splaying her wide for his eyes. “I think you have enjoyed this little fight.”





“Not as much as you have.” She said, eyeing his angry, weeping erection as it curved up against his pelvis, bobbing in eager anticipation of burrowing into her wet heat.





He climbed onto the bed, kneeling between her open thighs. The warm, spicy scent of her arousal had him nearly seeing red as he hooked his arms beneath her legs and lifted her hips, the tip of his erection parting her folds and sliding easily into the niche of her opening.





“You need to learn to check your temper.” He growled.





“Check it for me.” She taunted breathlessly. He thrust his hips forward, shoving deep inside her, her slick, hot flesh parting easily and allowing total possession in one go. Her back arched and her eyes closed as she wailed in absolute joy.





“I love the bitch side of you.” He said fiercely, withdrawing and plunging into her again with force. His fingers were digging into the soft, pliant flesh of her thighs as he plumbed her syrupy depths. Her heat and the tight, pulsing grip of her pussy was the sweetest of tortures as he fucked her. Her arms were stretched above her head, her hands gripping the edge of the mattress as she plowed into her again and again.





“You are such a prick!” She groaned when he began the slow grinding motion with his hips, his pelvis mashing against her clit and pushing her closer to her orgasm. She brought her hands up to his shoulders, her nails digging in painfully, leaving bright red scratches in their wake as she began rough little counter thrusts against him. He held on to her hips, fascinated and completely lost to the fiery little witch beneath him as he thrust wildly into her.





To hell with rhythm, to hell with the teasing. She didn’t seem to need either, anger and passion were her fuel and the rougher he got, the higher she climbed. It wasn’t making love, it was a battle, one that would leave them both shaking in victory.





“Harder!” She cried, gripping the back of his neck as their bodies slapped together noisily. The sounds of her cries and his rough grunts filled the air, the room growing humid and the air thick with the smell of sex and lust. “Yes…right there….don’t stop….fuck me just like that….oh god…..Lucius…..yes….oh…”







“Bloody hell, witch.” He growled, her naughty little demands were going straight to his balls. To hear such dirty words spilling from her lips in the heat of the moment was something he had dreamed of. The litany of harder, yes, fuck me, more and please was like music to his ears as he obeyed, thrusting into her like a man possessed until her little nails dug in and actually broke the skin on his upper back as she howled her orgasm to the ceiling.





Her little pussy clamped down on him in a vicious grip of sucking, wet heat that ripped his orgasm from him with a near scream of pleasure from his own lips as he poured it come into her, flooding her womb with his sperm. He fell on her, not caring one whit that he outweighed her by a good six stone. He was spent, completely exhausted and utterly elated at the same time.





He pulled his arms from beneath her thighs and let her legs fall to the bed as he softened within the still pulsing glove of her sex, shuddering in the after effects of his own orgasm as she stroked his back. It took a lot of effort for him to lift his head and look down at her, her lips lifted into a soft, satisfied smile with her eyes half closed and sleepy.





“You drew blood you little beastie.” He grinned.







“Sorry.” She said quietly.





“I’m not. I like that you were jealous you know.” He lowered his lips to hers and for the first time since their little battle began he kissed her mouth. There was no anger, no fight in the kiss. It was soft, sweet and tender as they explored each others mouth languidly, their affection for each other leading the exchange.





“I do love you.” She sighed against his lips.





“I know you do. I love you too.” He said, pushing her hair back from her sweaty forehead.







“You do?” She whimpered, tears forming in her eyes.





“I do. I have for awhile.” He said.





“Why didn’t you tell me? Before our…”





“Fuckfight?” he offered.





“Yes, why didn’t you tell me?” She asked, lifting her lips to the gouges she had left in his shoulders and kissing them softly.







“I don’t know. But I am telling you now. I love you and you never have to worry about other witches because they can not hold a candle to you, Darling.” He kissed her again, his lips feather light against hers. “Hermione, there is something I want to talk to you about. Something I intended before you got angry at me and before we tore up the sheets.” He said.





“Mmmm…what is that?” She asked, snuggling into his warmth as her passion dampened skin began to dry.





“Just a moment.” He said, sliding from between her thighs and stumbling into her bathroom for a damp cloth. His head was spinning slightly from the force of his release as he made his way back to her and cleaned away the evidence of their passion. He settled against the pillows, his witch tucked tight against his side and wrapped in the blankets. “Now….I love you.”





“You said that already.” She smiled, snuggling tighter against him.





“I want you to move into the house. My house. With me.” He said softly. She pulled back, her eyes wide as she stared at him as if he had gone mad.





“You want me to move in with you?”





“Yes. And just so we are clear, I have never asked another woman to live with me, ever….well aside from when I was married.” He said.





“But…Draco is there!” She said.





“He has his own suite in the North Wing, he won’t disturb us.” Lucius said.





“He’s walked in on us twice already.” She said. “Lucius, living together is a big deal….especially in our world. It isn’t commonly done.”





“I don’t care what is common or not, we spend every night together as it is, we will just be doing it in one location.” He said smiling.





“What about my house?” She asked. “And your house….I don’t think I would like living in a home decorated by your dead wife.”





“Narcissa decorated only her own rooms and the parlor. The rest of the house is ancestral and I have no idea who decorated it. You can change whatever you want, Darling, with my full blessing and funding.” He said, running his hand over her curls. “We can incorporate your things into the house, you can have your own suite of rooms but I want us to share a bedchamber, I need you in my bed with me at night. We can rent your house out if you have no interest in selling right now.”





“Lucius, I don’t know…”





“I love you; please won’t you share a home with me?” She saw his sincerity shining in his eyes and her heart skipped a beat. “Please?”





She sighed and laid her head against his chest. “Alright, Lucius. Yes, I will move in with you.”







He relaxed and held her tight, a smile on his face as yet another piece of his plan fell perfectly into place. Soon he would have everything he wanted and nothing would come between him and his happiness ever again.















~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~





Took a little break from writing Severus to add another scenario to this little bit of nastiness LOL…….hope you enjoyed!