Sense Memory

Title: Sense
Memory
Authour: Sing
Pairing: Molly/Lucius Cat Categories: Dark/Violence
Words: smash, heavy, doll, moon
 
 
She would always remember his tongue.

It was cool, smooth, and so sharp. Just like him. As Molly stood
there, watching her former lover degrade both her children and her
husband, she couldn’t help but remember how that softly
flapping tongue felt as he skimmed it over the ridges of her
ear. A shiver ran through her and Molly rubbed the backs of
her freckled arms, even though it was the middle of summer
and the press of bodies inside of Flourish and Blott’s
made it stuffy and too warm.

Lucius was never warm.

His fingers were always cool and smooth and sharp, like his tongue
and other, more interesting, parts of his body. She remembered
the light touch of his hands on her breasts, tweaking her
nipples to soft points. How he would dip his pointed tongue
into the indention of her belly before moving lower. Lucius
left trails of saliva that gleamed silver in the moonlight.

He and Arthur were circling each other like two dogs growling over
a bone. Molly heard the deep moan that rose from Lucius’
throat when she placed a line of kisses up and down his penis before
pulling his foreskin down to wrap her lips around the tip and
flick the slit on top with her tongue. His eyes when she
looked up were -mas-mast and glistening from under his long,
pale lashes.

One of them threw the first punch. She didn’t know which
one, but it didn’t matter. Molly was entranced by the
sheen of sweat on their brows and the blood that trickled from
their wounds. She was yelling at them to stop even though she
would have liked nothing better than to watch them all day long.

Molly remembered how the sweat slicked Lucius’ skin as he
moved inside of her body. How her breasts would wobble and
quake as he played her like an instrument. Humming.
Thrumming. Throbbing. Pulsing. His devilish mouth suckling
the turgid crowns of her breasts and vibrating her skin with
his groans; the violent rock and rhythm of his pelvis
crashing against her own.

Arthur never knew that Lucius was once her lover, but he suspected.
It was that uncertainty on his part that added a delectable spice to
their brawl for Molly. When she and Arthur finally made it
home, she would send the children out to play so they could
have some adult time behind the relative safety of their
bedroom door.

Lucius was bleeding profusely from a wound on his head. Arthur
had smashed him with a heavy object like some sort of Muggle
barbarian. Why didn’t they use their wands? This
was terribly embarrassing. Lucius’ eyes flickered for a
moment when he saw her standing there, but he didn’t
acknowledge her. She was just another old doll
he’d tossed in the bin along with rebellion and the
other vices of youth.

But Molly supposed that one never outgrew fisticuffs.

Arthur stood suddenly and grabbed her upper arm, ushering
her past the crowds and the children followed behind. Molly afforded
Lucius one last glance before turning back to her husband.

She regretted many things in her life, but Lucius Malfoy had never
been one of them. Now today Molly had seen her daughter stand
up to Lucius’ son and it thrilled something deep inside of
her, something that was hidden up until that point. Her
association with Lucius had begun in much the same way. She
studied Ginny’s flushed cheeks and the thin, angry line
of her lips and smiled to herself. Molly wondered if she
would tell Ginny about Lucius when she fell in love with
Draco Malfoy and developed memories of her own.

*end*