Near To You
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Lucius/Hermione
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
1
Views:
5,042
Reviews:
8
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Lucius/Hermione
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
1
Views:
5,042
Reviews:
8
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Near To You
Near To You
She felt the warm touch of his tongue on her moist skin, he lapped up at the sated skin like dog to water, he fed off her, her touch brought him to life burning a hole in his very soul. His fingertip danced on her skin and she was transported to paradise, palm trees swayed in the wind, her skin cooled under the intense breeze, a clever trick of the mind.
Fire danced within him as he joined her, two interlocked spirits harmonized as one, together, he moved slowly within her, sating her need for him, her cries for more met with fierce thrusts that left her screaming in pleasure, he followed straight after, not being able to resist her call.
He lingered in her senses for hours, days and weeks, his taste was a second nature to her, this was home.
She felt deliriously dizzy as she thought about him and what he meant to her, walking along crowded streets, the way he danced with her under the pale moonlight, a never ending swirl of emotion. So beautiful yet so dysfunctional, it couldn’t last, could it?.
Such pain as this shouldn’t have to be experienced, it was almost cruel to cut short something that could be epic.
She let Morpheus take her, a god aboard his subconscious ship, a dweller in dreams.
She remembered his pale skin in the night moving as if fluid, so graciously and effortless, his stature never failed to amaze her, she could only hope he could feel her heart beating for him, for to be near to him was to live, to breathe.
She only knew she was better where he was, that she belonged to him, to where he was, she had his very essence growing within her, feeding, nourishing, growing.
He danced in circles in her mind, one step at a time taking her breathe away as he played her body like a violin, a powerful haunting melody that impregnated itself within her memory.
A powerful man he is, the very image of perfectness personified, his shining mane of blonde hair blows in the breeze as he stands watching the moon, the pained howling of other beings heard faintly in the distance.
She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was different this evening, he seemed close yet so far.
A battle scarred work of art, trying to rebuild what he once was, hiding what he has become in secret.
A painted face displayed to all who wanted to see, never showing what lingered underneath the surface, nobody would dare to scratch and ruin it with imperfections, he was who he was.
Yet it was this chink in his surface armour that had drawn her so much toward him, his possessive claim on her never ceasing after all these years, sacred moments of sin, of greed and lust, deadly temptations.
For she was the one thing that was forbidden to him, and he couldn’t help but give himself wholeheartedly to her, his little one, the bane of his existence, his somewhat reason for living, his shining light in a world filled with prejudice and hate.
Hate, the one emotion never felt by either for each other, for all they felt was love.
He watched his lover as she slept, her body betraying her as she moved, her glamour falling and it was then he saw it, for the first time he saw his child moving within her.
A child born out of love, banishing old prejudice and views, making way for a new type of family, one that he wanted more than anything, he had been left a broken man, his family taken from him in the cruellest ways possible.
For she and this little one where his future.
He remembered when he lay broken and wounded and she sat by his side never letting go of him, healing him with her tears of redemption, her apprehension slipping away as she cradled the man who’d forgone his mask and showed her his true face in the dying moments of battle.
A man who wanted her, needed her, a feeling that was mutually shared.
He watched as she stirred under the white cotton sheet of their room, and she quickly pulled it over her to disguise her growing stomach, he reached out and pulled the sheet away and shook his head, not wanting her to hide a product of love, the very essence of them.
His heart felt fit to burst at the thought of his second chance, a chance to live again, to love with ones heart and not rule with ones mind.
The warm taste of life that she had given him only provided a blazing hunger for more.
He reached out and pulled her closer to him her skin cool and soft smelling like vanilla blossom in spring time, he wanted to touch her and taste her, this beautiful creature was carrying his babe.
How he craved her, craved her touch her scent on his skin.
He gave his heart to her the first day she ever cared to take a second glance at him, watching from afar, a wonder turning into full blown wanting and need.
He felt the need to make her his, and never ever let her go.
As the moonlight flitted through the window of Grimmauld Place, he knew as she lay in his arms, he felt complete.
“Marry me, Hermione?” he asked.
“Anytime, Lucius.” she replied.
She felt the warm touch of his tongue on her moist skin, he lapped up at the sated skin like dog to water, he fed off her, her touch brought him to life burning a hole in his very soul. His fingertip danced on her skin and she was transported to paradise, palm trees swayed in the wind, her skin cooled under the intense breeze, a clever trick of the mind.
Fire danced within him as he joined her, two interlocked spirits harmonized as one, together, he moved slowly within her, sating her need for him, her cries for more met with fierce thrusts that left her screaming in pleasure, he followed straight after, not being able to resist her call.
He lingered in her senses for hours, days and weeks, his taste was a second nature to her, this was home.
She felt deliriously dizzy as she thought about him and what he meant to her, walking along crowded streets, the way he danced with her under the pale moonlight, a never ending swirl of emotion. So beautiful yet so dysfunctional, it couldn’t last, could it?.
Such pain as this shouldn’t have to be experienced, it was almost cruel to cut short something that could be epic.
She let Morpheus take her, a god aboard his subconscious ship, a dweller in dreams.
She remembered his pale skin in the night moving as if fluid, so graciously and effortless, his stature never failed to amaze her, she could only hope he could feel her heart beating for him, for to be near to him was to live, to breathe.
She only knew she was better where he was, that she belonged to him, to where he was, she had his very essence growing within her, feeding, nourishing, growing.
He danced in circles in her mind, one step at a time taking her breathe away as he played her body like a violin, a powerful haunting melody that impregnated itself within her memory.
A powerful man he is, the very image of perfectness personified, his shining mane of blonde hair blows in the breeze as he stands watching the moon, the pained howling of other beings heard faintly in the distance.
She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was different this evening, he seemed close yet so far.
A battle scarred work of art, trying to rebuild what he once was, hiding what he has become in secret.
A painted face displayed to all who wanted to see, never showing what lingered underneath the surface, nobody would dare to scratch and ruin it with imperfections, he was who he was.
Yet it was this chink in his surface armour that had drawn her so much toward him, his possessive claim on her never ceasing after all these years, sacred moments of sin, of greed and lust, deadly temptations.
For she was the one thing that was forbidden to him, and he couldn’t help but give himself wholeheartedly to her, his little one, the bane of his existence, his somewhat reason for living, his shining light in a world filled with prejudice and hate.
Hate, the one emotion never felt by either for each other, for all they felt was love.
He watched his lover as she slept, her body betraying her as she moved, her glamour falling and it was then he saw it, for the first time he saw his child moving within her.
A child born out of love, banishing old prejudice and views, making way for a new type of family, one that he wanted more than anything, he had been left a broken man, his family taken from him in the cruellest ways possible.
For she and this little one where his future.
He remembered when he lay broken and wounded and she sat by his side never letting go of him, healing him with her tears of redemption, her apprehension slipping away as she cradled the man who’d forgone his mask and showed her his true face in the dying moments of battle.
A man who wanted her, needed her, a feeling that was mutually shared.
He watched as she stirred under the white cotton sheet of their room, and she quickly pulled it over her to disguise her growing stomach, he reached out and pulled the sheet away and shook his head, not wanting her to hide a product of love, the very essence of them.
His heart felt fit to burst at the thought of his second chance, a chance to live again, to love with ones heart and not rule with ones mind.
The warm taste of life that she had given him only provided a blazing hunger for more.
He reached out and pulled her closer to him her skin cool and soft smelling like vanilla blossom in spring time, he wanted to touch her and taste her, this beautiful creature was carrying his babe.
How he craved her, craved her touch her scent on his skin.
He gave his heart to her the first day she ever cared to take a second glance at him, watching from afar, a wonder turning into full blown wanting and need.
He felt the need to make her his, and never ever let her go.
As the moonlight flitted through the window of Grimmauld Place, he knew as she lay in his arms, he felt complete.
“Marry me, Hermione?” he asked.
“Anytime, Lucius.” she replied.