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A Christmas Wish: Ginny’s Surprise
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Hermione was abruptly woken by a body bouncing on her bed in excitement.
"Wake up, Hermione! I've brought you a surprise!"
"Gin?" she asked blearily, squinting against the light emanating from the wand tip bobbing near her face. "What are you doing here? What time is it? "
"I don't know, but that doesn't matter, wait till you see what I've brought!" The other witch was nearly vibrating with excitement, and when Hermione barely moved, she added, "Come on, sleepyhead, get up!"
Ginny's enthusiasm was too much for the still sleep ridden witch and she groaned, flopping back against her pillows and pulling the covers up over her head. "Can't it wait till morning? Even Santa Claus gets a day of rest after Christmas."
"Who?"
"Never mind," Hermione huffed, her voice muffled by blankets that were suddenly snatched away, her sleep-warmed skin prickling in the cooler air of her bedroom. Hermione glared at her friend's smug expression, then realising that the redhead was being a little too smug, she added, "Ginny? What have you done?"
Guilt flashed across Ginny's features so briefly that if Hermione didn't know just how devious the youngest Weasley could be, she would have missed it.
"Ginny…?" she asked, her voice laced with suspicious concern.
"Oh, for the love of Merlin, just come see. I promise I'll explain everything later," Ginny implored as she grabbed Hermione's hand and attempted to tug her out of bed.
"Okay, okay, I'm coming." Recognising that the too exuberant witch wouldn't be put off, Hermione snatched her hand out of Ginny's grip so she could crawl out of bed at her own pace. "For your sake, I hope this is worth it," she grumbled.
"Oh, it is," Ginny replied with a sly twinkle in her eye.
Hermione paused, giving Ginny a scrutinising look. The redhead's face was flushed, her brown eyes gleaming with excitement and…pride? Hermione slipped on her robe and made to follow the younger witch.
Ginny hesitated for a moment at the bedroom door before turning to face her friend. "Wait. Before you see what I brought, I just want you to know I did a small bit of transfiguration in your living room to accommodate it. Nothing big, mind you, but…well, you'll see," she smirked and opened the door, then paused again. "Oh, and one more thing, you are absolutely not allowed to be angry with me, understand?"
Hermione merely raised her eyebrows.
"I mean it, Hermione, no hexing or jinxing. I did this because I love you. You are the best friend a person could have, and I want you to know that. Now, promise."
"Are you going to let me out this door if I don't?"
"No," Ginny replied, suddenly serious.
Hermione sighed. "Fine, I promise. Now can we get this over with so I can go back to bed?"
"Wand."
"What?"
"Give me your wand."
"Why?"
"I'll give it back to you afterwards, it's just…a safety precaution."
"I just promised I wouldn't hex you."
"It's not me I'm worried about."
Hermione gave her another appraising stare. Now that she was wide awake, she could see that beneath her excitement, Ginny also seemed…nervous. Whatever she had brought, she was taking no chances. Exasperated, Hermione shoved her wand at Ginny's chest and pushed past her.
"Hermione, wait!" Ginny cried, startled. She hurried after her, but it was too late.
As Hermione rounded the corner to her living room, she stopped in her tracks like a doe in the headlights. Oh, Merciful Merlin, what had that crazy redhead done?
"GINNY!" Hermione screeched, whirling to face the other witch.
"Now, wait, Hermione, I said I would explain, and-and I will," Ginny replied, holding her hand up in a placatory gesture to the furious witch whose bushy mane was now fairly crackling with suppressed magic.
Hermione's response was to cross her arms over her chest, her lips drawn into a thin line of displeasure. "Well, get on with it then."
Ginny cleared her throat and took a deep breath. "Okay, so you know how the weekend before Christmas we were at that party over at Luna's?" At Hermione's sharp nod she continued. "You were pretty far gone already, but do you remember us playing a game of Truth or Dare?"
Suddenly, Hermione felt the blood drain from her face. "No…" she whispered, mortification clear in her tone.
The mischievous glint was back in Ginny's eye. "Oh, yes. It was a delightful bit of disclosure to learn what—or rather who—our favourite bushy haired witch really wanted to find under her Christmas tree. In explicit detail, I might add."
Hermione's mouth was giving a fantastic impression of a fish out of water as Ginny leered at her. Finally, her jaw snapped shut and she swallowed. And then she began to shake, fear blooming in her stomach.
"Oh, sweet Merlin, Gin, he's going to be furious. This is the end of life as we know it. I can't believe you kidnapped Lucius Malfoy!" she hissed. "Give me my wand, we have to get him out of here, now!"
"Ah ah ah," Ginny admonished as she held their wands aloft and back, her hand pressed against Hermione's chest. "Think about it for a minute, will you? After all the trouble I've gone through to get him here, you at least owe me that."
"What is there to think about, Gin? Are you trying to get me killed? Having fantasies is one thing, kidnapping is another!" Hermione turned and peered nervously back into her living room. "What did you do to him anyway?"
"Stupefied him."
Hermione felt her jaw drop again. "How on earth did you manage to pull that off?"
Ginny flipped her hair back and peered into the living room over Hermione's shoulder. "Well, it wasn't easy, let me tell you. The man's got a sixth sense like you wouldn't believe."
"No kidding, Gin, he was a Death Eater, for Merlin's sake. That sense is honed to an art form." Hermione drew in a breath, her hands twisting around each other in agitation. "Okay, we can fix this."
"We? Oh no, I did my part. I even gift-wrapped him," and here she giggled before giving Hermione a once over. "Speaking of which, you look dreadful." Before she could retort against the asininity of the comment, Ginny made a spiralling motion with her wand and Hermione felt the gentle flutter of magic wash over her skin. Looking down, her simple pyjama shirt had been transfigured into a thigh length satin and lace negligée of burnished copper with matching robe. "There, much better," Ginny chirped with a self-satisfied smirk. “Oh, and one more thing,” she flicked her wand at Hermione’s head.
Turning to look in the hallway mirror, Hermione saw her normally bushy mane had been tamed into soft ringlets. She grit her teeth together at the audacity of the younger witch. "Ginny…" she warned.
But Ginny ploughed on. "At least think about it, will you? Goodness knows when the last time you had a good time was. You can have your wicked way with him now and obliviate him after, or you can dump him in an alley and obliviate him then. The choice is yours. Happy Christmas!" And with that, she dropped Hermione's wand and disapparated with a crack!
"Oh, Gin, I'm going to murder you in your sleep, and no one is going to find the body," Hermione muttered as she stooped to pick up her wand.
Gripping the comforting length of thin wood tightly in her hand, Hermione slowly moved into the living room, adrenaline beginning to course through her veins all over again. Coloured lights from her Christmas tree twinkled brightly, their cheery glow dancing on the edges of her periphery as she finally took in the full scene Ginny had left for her.
The impulsive witch had indeed done a small bit of transfiguration. Now that the enormity of her reckless actions had subsided a bit, Hermione could focus precisely on what the wily redhead had done. She shook her head in disbelief, unable to help the small groan that rose up in her throat as she decided that she might have to stop loaning Ginny her muggle romance novels, they were clearly going to her head.
A fire burned merrily in the hearth, its warmth chasing away the chill of the night. The golden hue of the dancing flames cast lambent shadows into the room, augmented by thick, pillared candles in shades of ivory as they burned in tall scrollwork stands. The soft radiance of light created a glowing ambience that filtered over a large sleigh bed bedecked in sheets of cream and honey-coloured silk where her sofa used to be, and in the centre of that bed lay one Lucius Malfoy. A possibly very naked Lucius Malfoy if the way the sheets pooling below his bare chest were any indication. Hermione felt herself blush at this very real likelihood. Ginny never did anything by halves.
With a convulsive swallow in a mouth gone completely dry, Hermione slowly edged her way along the side of the bed, her eyes never leaving the sight of the man lying before her. Letting her eyes roam over the way the sheets dipped and draped over his contours, she deduced that he was, indeed, bare beneath it. Continuing her visual perusal, she longed to trace the elegant lines of his hipbones, to follow the subtle trail of pale hairs that began just below his navel. His stomach and chest were well defined, more so than she would have expected, and his arms were lightly muscled. From where she stood, she could just see the edges of the faded Dark Mark inside his left forearm where it lay closest to her. Finally, she let her eyes come to rest on his face.
In a state of total relaxation, he appeared softer, more youthful, the hard edges of his sneering countenance laid to rest. His long, platinum locks fanned over the pillows, a light contrast to the pale skin of his shoulders, and she couldn't keep herself from reaching out to touch it, allowing the silky strands to slide through her trembling fingers. Having been so bold as to accomplish that, she gripped her wand more tightly in her right hand and gingerly sat down on the edge of the bed. Taking a shallow breath, she leaned forward, allowing herself to pull another lock of silky hair through her fingers, mesmerised by the way it caught the light as she let the strands fall.
Turning her attention back to his face, she brought her fingertips to his forehead, tracing lightly over the smooth lines that told a tale of worry, then brushed gently over eyes she now realised would crinkle in the corners when he smiled or laughed. Had he ever had much reason to do either? She thought not, but there must have been a time. Her fingers journeyed onward, down the length of his aquiline nose and over his cheekbones until she was able to cup the square of his jaw in the palm of her hand, the faint traces of new stubble scratching against the sensitive skin. Moving on, she caressed his lips with the pad of her thumb and, finding them surprisingly soft, wondered what it would feel like to have them actively pressed against hers. She would probably never know.
Finishing her tactile exploration, she leaned down, cautiously resting her head against the warm skin of his chest where his heart beat in a steady rhythm, breathing in the heady scent that defined him, of spices and musk, and a more primal, profound scent that was uniquely him. Letting the sound of his heartbeat and the steady rise and fall his breath fortify her for a moment, she pulled back, an expression of regret gracing her features. No matter Ginny's intentions, there was no way she could seduce anyone, even Lucius Malfoy, without their consent. The fallout was already going to be disastrous without adding to it, but she would weather it. She just hoped he wouldn't completely ruin her for it. That he would realise she had refrained from obliviating him and dumping him in an alley as suggested.
It was then she noticed the small table next to the bed with a bottle of wine chilling in an elegant ice bucket alongside two glasses. The cork had already been popped and the glasses filled, ensuring the vintage had had time to breathe properly before being placed under a stasis charm. Removing the charm with a carefully placed finite, Hermione checked to make sure the wine hadn't been tampered with. She really wouldn't put it past Ginny to lace the wine on top of all her other transgressions for the night so far, just to ensure a good time.
Deeming it safe, Hermione sniffed delicately at the glass before she took a long and fortifying sip, the sweet wine assuaging the dryness of her mouth as she bucked up the courage to do what she knew was coming. She sat for a moment, the stem of the glass held loosely between her fingers as she stared into the fire, contemplating. Finally, she gave a resigned sigh and drained the glass, placing it back on the table.
"In for a penny, in for a pound," she murmured, gripping her wand as she turned back to face Lucius. Slowly, she drew the tip down from the base of his throat to the centre of his chest before giving it the required swish and flick. "Rennervate," she whispered.
She was stunned by the speed at which Lucius came to, and before she could quite register what had happened, he had disarmed her and yanked her halfway beneath him, pinning her there. She struggled against him, but with his right knee pressed up between her thighs and her wrists tightly bound within his grasp where he pushed them into the pillows, it was a futile effort. There was a wild intensity in his grey eyes that unnerved her as he scanned her living room. The moment he realised he was in no danger, she breathed a sigh of relief, feeling the tension leave his body as he looked down at her, confusion writ in his expression.
"Miss Granger?"
"I, er, h-hello, Mr Malfoy," she replied, her voice shaky with anxiety and the adrenaline pounding through her veins.
His brow furrowed as he stared at her for a moment longer, before raising his head to glance slowly at his surroundings once more, this time taking in the details of his location. She felt herself flush as his gaze returned to her, his brow rising in question.
"It's, um, not what you think…exactly. I mean, I know how it looks, but I didn't, er, actually have—" she looked towards her wrists as she attempted to twist free, but his iron grip wouldn't budge. "If-if you could just, please, um, my hands are going numb," she finished lamely, closing her eyes in miserable defeat.
His eyes followed to where her gaze initially fell and he smirked, relaxing his grip only fractionally. "Oh, I think not. Until I get more of your delightfully eloquent attempt at an explanation, I think this is a perfectly acceptable arrangement for the time being."
"P-please, Mr Malfoy," she whispered, ashamed to feel tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. She hated how vulnerable she felt and knew he would most likely press that advantage. She was positively going to kill Ginny. "I honestly didn't have anything to do with—with this."
"Look at me, Miss Granger." His tone was firm but held none of the searing bite she was accustomed to hearing in his silky tones.
Swallowing down her humiliation, Hermione slowly opened her eyes, afraid of the sneering ridicule she was sure she would see on his face. Instead, she was met with frank curiosity.
"I find myself most intrigued as to why I find myself in your—" he glanced around once more, his grey eyes taking in the odd assortment of furniture and overfull bookshelves before settling on the Christmas tree twinkling merrily in the corner, "bedroom?" He frowned.
"Living room, actually." Hermione felt her cheeks heat once more, fully aware her flat was nowhere near the kind of opulence he was most assuredly accustomed to. "This was all a friend of mine's idea of-of a…" she hesitated.
"A what, Miss Granger?" he pressed, staring down at her.
"Um, a surprise," she whispered, then looked up at him earnestly. She felt as if those silvered irises were boring into her soul. "Please, I had no intention of taking advantage of you. I had just roused you in the hopes we could maybe…" she hesitated again.
"Maybe what?"
"Er, maybe talk—negotiate? Please don't ruin me over this." This time, a single tear did make an escape, and Hermione quickly turned her head, unwilling to let him see the evidence of her shame.
"Ah," the corner of his mouth tilted upward. "Perhaps we can come to an arrangement, then. Am I not given to understand that you, also, are a victim here?"
Hermione's head snapped back to look at him, surprise colouring her tone. "Well, yes, but I didn't think that would matter to you. I know you don't think too kindly of me."
His brow rose again. "You have no idea what I think of you, little witch. You only know what I allow the public to believe I think. Call it a tactic in self-preservation."
Hermione stared at him, her eyes widening at the implied meaning behind his statement. "But…I'm a mu-"
"Ah, ah," he interrupted. "I do hope you weren't about to say what I think you were about to say, Miss Granger. It's true enough that your less than stellar lineage on paper has caused me many hours of grief, but as a witch? You have more than proven your worth, many times over, and that is a profound statement in itself that outweighs any objectionable lineal status you may carry."
Hermione's mouth dropped open. "Did you just give me a complimentary insult?"
Lucius chuckled quietly, his eyes flicking over her face as if studying her every feature before meeting her eyes once more, the barest hint of a smile remaining on his lips. "I suppose I did. Does that shock you?"
She pressed her head back into the pillow as she studied him in return. "I don't know. I haven't decided whether I should be offended or flattered."
"In our present situation, I hope you'll choose flattered."
"Why?"
Lucius's smirk turned decidedly devilish at that point as he closed the little distance between them, his words mellifluous silk as they slid into her ear. "Because, Miss Granger, only a fool who finds himself naked in bed with a delectable young witch would wish to offend her."
Hermione shivered as his warm breath caressed her ear. "Oh," she sighed, then "Ohh!" as she felt his teeth gently scrape against the sensitive skin of her lobe, pinpricks of arousal flashing through her body so suddenly she gasped with the intensity of it, her nipples peaking hard with the sensation.
She heard Lucius's quiet chuckle, felt the faint rasp of his cheek against her jawline as his lips caressed the smooth skin of her throat with small open-mouthed kisses before working his way up toward her mouth. Instinctively, she turned into him, her lips meeting his in what began as a feather-light kiss, an almost tender massaging of his lips against hers. They were just as soft as she'd imagined they would be, and she revelled in the experience. Then, with firm and guiding pressure, he skilfully parted her lips and slipped inside, his tongue meeting hers with all the experience of a self-assured lover. A soft moan rose in her throat as she melted beneath him, her stomach somersaulting with each skilful stroke of his tongue. She could die in that kiss, she thought abstractly.
She squirmed beneath him, wishing he'd release her so she could pull him closer and tangle her hands in the silky strands crowning his head until slowly, exquisitely, he withdrew with a last gentle tug on her bottom lip. His brow furrowed as he stared down at her, the length of his mane cascading in pale curtains on either side of her face.
Hermione frowned as she looked at him, worry that she'd done something wrong gripping her. "What's wrong?"
Lucius finally released her to lay on his side, lifting the sheet to look down at himself. "Your friend is very thorough with her surprises, isn't she?"
"What?"
Hermione raised to her elbows and followed his gaze beneath the cream coloured sheet. Immediately, she slapped a hand to her mouth, trying to stifle a giggle. There, wrapped unassumingly around the rigid shaft of his cock, a classic emerald green bow innocently peeked back at them.
"Oh!" Hermione couldn't hold back her laughter, the sound pealing pleasantly into the room until breathless, she tried to apologise. Lucius merely rested his head in his palm and stared at her, his brow raised in amusement.
"I think, little witch, that it's only fitting for you to do something about this. After all, this was clearly meant as part of your little 'surprise.'" He gestured toward himself with a negligent wave of his free hand.
Hermione glanced back down at his beribboned shaft, an appreciative smile ghosting her lips. Lucius was, without a doubt, the most well-endowed wizard she'd ever seen. Standing proudly at attention, his prominent length was perfectly proportionate to his considerable girth.
"I think, Lucius, that there is nothing little about that 'surprise.' All things considered, be thankful she had the foresight to ensure the ribbon was expandable," she smirked.
"Indeed," he agreed, still looking at her with a shamelessly expectant lift of his brow.
Taking the not so subtle hint, Hermione rose up and slowly shed her robe, watching him as she revealed the satin and lace negligée beneath. The shimmering, coppery hues of the material caught the flickering firelight, enhancing the curvature of her hips and breasts. His silver gaze raked over her form with disconcerting intensity and her skin prickled against the heat in his gaze. Feeling a bit self-conscious of his scrutiny, she reached out and gave him a playful shove back into the pillows. He smirked at her and folded his arms behind his head, clearly waiting for her to continue her assault on his person.
With a coy smile for his clear invitation, Hermione slid one leg over his thighs, kneeling just aft of his rigid member. He was larger than her previous lovers, and having been more than a year since she last entertained in the more promiscuous pursuits of pleasure with the opposite sex, she hoped he would not be as rough as she'd sometimes imagined him to be—though she didn't doubt for a moment that he absolutely could be. Biting her lip with that thought in mind, she tentatively touched him. His hips jerked slightly as her fingertips ghosted over his sensitive tip and, watching him from the corner of her eye, she repeated the action before trailing her fingers lightly down the warm, velvety skin of his shaft to where the innocuous green bow nestled. Grasping one of the emerald tails, she pulled gently, the ribbon sliding out of its knot work hold with ease.
With an impish tilt of her lips, she tied her hair back loosely with the ribbon and shimmied backwards. Then, grasping his rigid flesh firmly in her hand, she bent down and dragged her tongue slowly up the underside of his turgid length, relishing the groan that rose out of him as she flicked her tongue teasingly across his engorged tip, dipping in to taste the slightly salty flavour of his slit. Lucius tensed beneath her and, locking her gaze with his, she slowly drew his cock into her mouth, her tongue swirling and licking as sucked him deep into her throat. She varied the pressures at which her mouth slid over him as she stroked the base of his shaft with her hand, her movements choreographed to learn what he liked best as she fondled, rolled, and squeezed his sac with the other. Lucius was drawing deep, shuddering breaths, his hips thrusting gently upward with every downward stroke of her mouth. Before too long she felt a hand in her hair, his other hand wrapping around hers to still her motions.
"Stop, witch," he groaned, tightening his hold when she refused to relinquish him, drawing him in further until he hit the back of her throat.
When she felt him struggling for control, she finally drew back, releasing him with a gentle pop. He was quivering beneath her, and when she looked up at him his eyes were closed, his brow furrowed with intense concentration.
"Okay?" she murmured softly, running her hands over his hips to the smooth, pale skin of his stomach, relishing the play of the taut abdominal muscles beneath her palms.
Lucius grunted his response, opening one eye to glare down at her. Smirking, Hermione hooked her fingers, scraping her nails lightly against his flesh, enjoying the way he tensed beneath her as she crawled forward and began to place a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses against his chest. Brushing her lips gently over one flat nipple, she let her tongue dart out to tease it, licking and laving it into a hardened nub. Sucking it into her mouth, she nipped it lightly between her teeth, causing Lucius to hiss beneath her, his cock bobbing against her belly.
"Mmm, liked that, did you?" she murmured in a husky drawl as she worked her way over to the other nipple and repeated her ministrations. He gave an appreciative hum in answer, his hands coming down to rest possessively on her hips, his thumbs rubbing small circles through the satin fabric of her gown. Giving his nipple a final swirl of her tongue, she looked up at him, her dark amber eyes liquid pools of burnished gold and her lips full and glistening in the firelight. She could have sworn she heard him growl low in his throat.
"Enough, little wanton, come here," he commanded as he snaked one hand through the curls at the nape of her neck. Tugging her up further against him, he claimed her mouth in a smouldering kiss that made her toes curl, his other hand clenched hard upon her hip as he thrust up against her belly, further firing the burn of arousal that coursed through her veins to centre in a pool of pulsating heat between her thighs. She moaned into his mouth, her hands clutching at his broad shoulders as his hand slid further down, grasping the hem of her negligée and slowly working it up over her back.
Breaking the kiss with a gentle nip to her bottom lip, he grasped her by the waist and pulled her forward with a sensual roll of his hips, effortlessly reseating her so that his tumescent length pressed deliciously against her clothed seam, making her inhale sharply. Reaching up, he grasped her chin, her eyes locking on his as he repeated the motion once more, slowly. A whimpered moan escaped her throat, her lips parting on a soft intake of breath as his shaft slid intimately against her heated core, her ready response shuddering throughout her body as she rocked against him.
His lips turned up in the barest hint of a smile, a predatory glint in his eyes that evoked a mix of emotions far more visceral than anything she'd ever encountered. Bunching the hem of her negligée in his hands, Lucius pulled the gown over her head in one fluid motion, laying her bare before him. She stilled against him, her eyes wide and her heart thundering as she waited for his reaction, the rapid breaths of her arousal evident in the rise and fall of her breasts as she searched his face. Growling his appreciation low in his throat, Lucius met her gaze as he slid his hands sensuously up her sides to her breasts. Cupping the soft mounds of creamy flesh in his hands, his thumbs circled the dusky tips until she arched against him in a silent plea.
"Perfection," he murmured, raising himself to take one sensitive bud into his mouth, drawing the puckered flesh up tight with his tongue before moving to the opposite breast and doing the same.
Hermione whined her pleasure at the sensations his mouth and hands were wringing out of her, her fingers tangling in the silky strands of hair at his nape as he massaged, caressed, and pinched her nipples into sensitive points that sent electric shocks of pure heat straight to her core with every touch. She ground her hips over his cock, her lace knickers the only barrier between them as his shaft slid deliciously against her seam, and she knew without a doubt they were surely soaked in her arousal.
Groaning, Lucius trailed a path of kisses up her chest to her neck, gathering her up close and rolling her over, catching her lips once more as he settled over her. His hands burned trails of sensation into her skin, his lips and tongue swirling patterns of seduction down her neck and chest, massaging and suckling at her breasts once more until she was writhing from the excess of stimulation. Moving further down, he hooked his fingers in her knickers and began to slide them down over her hips, kissing his way down her belly. Hermione raised her legs, and with practised ease, he slipped them off and tossed them aside.
An unmistakable hunger lit his eyes as he stared down at the patch of soft, neatly trimmed curls that crowned her mons, and spreading her wide before him, Lucius seemed momentarily entranced by the glistening folds that opened before him. Licking his lips, he draped her legs over his broad shoulders, inhaling her sweet, musky scent as he bent down, grasping her hips as he buried his face between her thighs.
The first swipe of his tongue between her folds was like fiendfyre, and she couldn't help the startled gasp of pleasure that shot through her system. He repeated the motion, dragging the flat of his tongue against her with a slow precision that left her moaning, his tongue flicking out to tease and circle her exposed bundle of nerves. Drawing the sensitive nub into his mouth, he suckled gently and firmly by turns, effortlessly holding her down with one arm as she bucked and arched against his mouth. Swirling his tongue downward, he speared her channel, following his tongue with a finger, then two, thrusting into her until she was mewling with need.
As he continued to torment her, she fisted the sheets until she was nearly sobbing with incoherent pleas for release. Working his way back up to her clit, he tongued and suckled her, crooking his fingers to press against the fleshy spot deep inside that made her see stars as she came, her climax washing over her with a sudden intensity that wrung his name from her lips in a keening, euphoric cry.
Lucius let her come down gently, pressing gentle kisses against her inner thighs, his hands caressing soothing circles into her skin as he shifted to sit back on his heels. Hermione stared at him through half-lidded eyes, her body completely relaxed and boneless under his ministrations.
"You are divine, Hermione. I should like to thank your little friend for this unexpected and pleasurable tryst."
Hermione felt her lips turn up in a provocative smile, raising a foot to slide up the length of his side and urge him toward her. "I'm not sure she would take kindly to me revealing her identity in light of the manner of which she brought you here, Lucius. However, I'm sure it wouldn't take you long to suss out exactly who the responsible witch is."
Lucius caught her foot and raised it to his lips. "Likely not," he murmured, pressing a kiss to her instep.
Wrapping her legs around his waist, he slid over her, mouthing his way up her body once more, his hands sliding casually up her legs to her waist where he gripped her and pulled her further beneath him. Placing one hand beside her head, he leaned down and gave her another thorough kiss. She could taste herself on his tongue, but she was far from repulsed by it, and the way his tongue was stroking against hers made her all too aware of how much she needed to feel him inside of her.
"I could die in your kisses, Lucius, but right now, I need you, please," she whispered against his lips when he released her mouth.
He smirked as he looked into her eyes, and then she felt him probing her entrance, slicking himself in her silken fluids before sliding into her wet heat with excruciating slowness. His eyes were trained on hers, intent on catching every minute detail of her expression as it shifted from expectant to sheer wonder, groaning as he gradually sheathed every solid inch of himself within her silky depths. Her knees rose instinctively against his flanks, her body welcoming him as she granted him even deeper access until his hips lay cradled firmly between hers with her ankles locked over his backside.
She'd never felt so exquisitely full, and for a few agonisingly precious moments, he held still above her, patiently allowing her body to adjust to his thick intrusion. Hermione couldn't help but notice how his eyes had darkened, pools of black obsidian ringed by quicksilver. His nostrils flared once with the effort of remaining still within her, but he gave no other outward sign of what must have been a monumental effort on his part. She raised a hand to his cheek in a gesture of admiration and gratitude that was far from lost on him, and he closed his eyes briefly in acknowledgement of her unspoken praise, turning his head to press a soft kiss into her palm. Then slowly, with a consideration more tender than she would have expected, he began to move within her, each slow thrust of his cock calculated to gradually increase her pleasure, drawing it out of her with deep, sure strokes.
Hermione had never felt anything like it. Sure, she'd been shagged a few times, but this was nothing like the fast and frenzied rutting of youthful over-exuberance she'd been subjected to each time. No, Lucius was a consummate lover, taking his time to savour her every reaction, from the soft gasping breaths that spilt from her lips between his heady kisses to the needy, vociferous whines that rose in her throat at his refusal to increase the pace of his thrusts. She couldn't imagine what on earth he was waiting for, and as her pleasure bordered on euphoric agony, her body flushed with an intense heat that rolled in a massive wave from her head to her toes until she was reduced to begging for her release, her skin dampening with a light sheen of perspiration as he held her in check.
"Oh, gods, please, Lucius," she cried as she writhed beneath him, her hands clenching and unclenching against his back and shoulders. Her body danced on the precipice of divine ecstasy as she urged him—no, begged him—to take her over.
"Patience, petit lionne," he murmured into her ear. "Put your arms around my neck and don't let go." As she moved to obey him, he paused, sliding his arms beneath her back and raising her up so she was astride him. The new angle wrung a gasping moan from her, and in this position, he began to rock her against him, helping her to find the rhythm as he thrust up into her.
"Eyes on me, Hermione," Lucius commanded firmly, pulling her head towards him until her forehead rested against his. Her amber gaze fixed on him, hazy with pleasure as she tried to focus on him. "I want you to see me, remember who it is that's fucking you, and never forget."
"This isn't fucking, Lucius," Hermione panted, her arms twined tightly around his neck as she rolled her hips in time with his rhythm, her clit rubbing deliciously against him with every languorous undulation. Her speech was peppered with small gasping moans each time she met his upward thrusts, his cock rubbing perfectly against that hidden spot deep inside her no one else had ever managed to touch. "I don't know what this is but—ahh!—this is nothing like—mmph—anything I've—oh, god! Lucius!"
Fire flashed through her veins as he shifted her angle and thumbed her clit, sending her firmly over the precipice he'd kept her dancing along for the sheer pleasure of fucking her. She cried out his name in a keening wail, her heart seizing in a moment of pure and perfect bliss before hammering back to life with renewed vigour. He groaned against her neck as her walls clamped down on him like a vice, sucking the tender flesh above her collarbone between his teeth as she arched against him. Her nails bit into the firm musculature of his sweat-slicked shoulders, his strong arms supporting her as the strength of her climax washed over them in a tidal wave of ecstasy that left her boneless and gasping in his embrace.
Still seated firmly within her, Lucius bid her hook her legs around his hips as he laid her back against the pillows, twining their fingers together above her head. Leaning down to kiss her deeply and thoroughly, he locked his silver gaze on hers once more and began pounding into her in earnest, the force of his thrusts driving her into the bed as he sought his own release. It didn't take long, primed as he was, and with a ragged, guttural groan, he thrust into her so deeply he bottomed out, body tensing as his seed spilt into her still pulsating core in thick, hot spurts.
Hermione was shaking, literally shaking with aftershocks of pleasure, her entire body sensitive to his every movement, so when he started to withdraw, she voiced her denial and pulled him down on top of her, earning her a surprised chuckle. She relaxed beneath him, enjoying the sleepy lassitude and sensation of his weight resting against her, pleased to note that tremors ravaged his body, as well. As their breathing calmed and slipped back into normal rhythms, she traced small patterns onto his cooling skin, knowing this rare intimacy would soon have to come to an end.
"That was amazing, Lucius," she murmured softly, "but then I always suspected you would be." She combed a hand through his tousled mane, breathing in the scent of him as she committed every detail to memory. She was not naive enough to believe this would happen again.
As if sensing her quiet resignation, Lucius raised his head, searching her dark amber gaze with his own pale grey. He saw only calm acceptance and none of the hopeful expectation that typically shone in the eyes of his lovers. His brow furrowing, he gently disengaged from her and rolled onto his side, casting a wandless tergeo over them both as he pulled her close. Drawing up the sheet with another wandless wave, he tucked her into his side, his chin resting on top of her head in the ensuing silence as she twirled lengths of his hair between her fingertips. Finally, he spoke.
"Enjoy the here and now, little witch, tomorrow is never certain." It was neither denial nor confirmation to the unspoken between them, and Lucius nuzzled her brow, tilting her head back to give her a long, leisurely kiss. "Happy Christmas, Hermione."
She gave him a sleepy, sated sigh in return.
"Happy Christmas, Lucius.”