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The night air brushed cool against his skin, a chill running along his spine as it slipped through the window. Moonlight spilled across her bare chest, highlighting her soft curves, catching on the dusty pink peaks of her nipples and the delightful flush of her cheeks.
She looked beautiful like this, fast asleep, serene, lips soft and pouty as though begging for his kiss. He hummed his approval appreciating how even in slumber her body responded to him. As if it was instinctively attuned to his touch as his long fingers traced the gentle slope of her side before he gathered her closer, her warmth pressing into him. Her arse nestled snug against his aching cock, a torment he both relished and endured. It had been mere hours since he’d last taken her, and yet it already felt like a lifetime too long. She was his utterly…irrevocably and still he could not sate himself.
Her breath hitched into a soft, breathy moan as his fingers rolled her nipple between thumb and forefinger. And the sound made his cock twitch with need, and he groaned low in his throat. His lips trailing across the curve of her shoulder, tasting her skin, while his free hand wrapped around the rigid length of him, smearing precum across the swollen tip with a desperate swipe of his thumb.
She barely stirred when he eased her leg over his, parting her so sweetly for him. The moment his cock brushed her folds, slicking itself in her arousal, he knew restraint would be fleeting. He pressed forward, slowly, savoring the way her body yielded to him, stretching to take him in. Every inch buried inside her was a reminder of how far they had come, how they had gotten to this point…to this to her perfect, greedy little cunt welcoming him home.
“Do I make you nervous, Miss Granger?”
It had been such a simple question, and yet it had changed everything.
-•⋅⋅⋅•⋅✦⋅•⋅⋅⋅•-
The moment Lucius saw Hermione Granger’s name on his schedule, he was intrigued. She had crossed his path more often in recent years since his son and Potter had married, and he could hardly complain. The once bushy haired know it all had grown into a striking young woman. And while she was as opinionated as ever, always quick to challenge him, he could admit that he rather enjoyed her company.
He couldn't call them friends, but certainly allies of sorts. Acquaintances who cared deeply for the same two men, which was enough to keep a sort of harmony between them. Still, there had been moments brief, dangerous moments when he had imagined them to be more. She was far too young to look at him that way, of course. Twenty-six, and while quite accomplished was truly barely beginning her life. Despite himself the thoughts of her lingered. A man could dream, after all.
And dream he did, when she walked into his office that afternoon. Cream blouse, tight black pencil skirt, posture as composed as ever. The sight nearly left him undone as she walked toward him, her toned legs accentuated by her heels. In an instant, his mind betrayed him images of her bent over his desk, of her mouth around his cock while he finished his work vivid enough to make him shift in his chair. He knew that she was trouble.
He chastised himself as he tried to justify his thoughts, but it wasn’t as though he had been celibate since his divorce from Narcissa in the war’s aftermath. There had been lovers, flings, brief relationships that burned and fizzled out. So this wasn't just the thoughts of a lonely horny old man. He knew because none of his dalliances unsettled him the way Miss Granger had. Around her, he felt like a man half his age, hungry…reckless.
“Good afternoon, Miss Granger. It’s always lovely to see you,” he greeted smoothly, gesturing to the chair across from him.
“Thank you for making the time to see me, Lucius.”
His cock twitched at the sound of his name on her lips. Merlin help him, he loved that sound.
“The schedule doesn’t say what this is in regards to,” he said, watching her closely. “So how may I help you today? Another surprise party for my sons?”
Her smile, bright, unguarded and beautiful distracted him for a moment. He knew she enjoyed it when he referred to Harry as his, and he couldn’t resist doing so at every opportunity.
“Sorry, I should have been clearer in my message. I’m here on business.” She straightened in her seat, the motion tugging her blouse taut across her breasts.
Business? That was new. In all the years he’d known her, she had never approached him in a professional capacity. His curiosity sharpened. “Of course. Proceed.”
“As you know, I’m heading up the new creature reserve in Wales. With the unexpected additions recently, it’s become clear that we’re in desperate need of funding. We already have galas planned, but what we truly need is another backer. And because Harry and Draco are already so heavily involved, it wouldn’t be ethical for them to step in as benefactors.”
He noticed the subtle tell of nerves in the way her fingers fidgeted along the hem of her skirt, before smoothing the fabric that didn’t need smoothing.
Draco had already confided that the reserve wasn’t thriving as they’d hoped, expenses ballooning beyond expectation. So while Hermione Granger sitting across from him was unexpected, the nature of her visit was not.
He cleared his throat and leaned forward, long fingers lacing together on the polished desk. His tone was cool, businesslike. “Do you have a business model, risk assessments, or expectations?”
“Yes, sir.” She smiled faintly, leaning forward to pass him a folder. “As you can see, the costs have risen, and I’ve outlined the next five years of estimations for you.”
Lucius skimmed the pages, and the problems revealed themselves almost immediately. The original start up had accounted for four species at the reserve. The unexpected discovery and subsequent addition of three more had bled their contingency dry. Though her outline was meticulous, thoughtful in a way he was positive only she could manage, one glaring truth stood out to him.
“This is very thorough, Miss Granger,” he said smoothly, eyes flicking over the figures. “I’m sure you’re aware this is a fool’s investment. Correct?”
Her lips parted, shock flashing across her face. “That’s—” she stammered, caught off guard by his candor.
“That’s why you’re here instead of the bank,” he cut in, arching a brow. Her cheeks flushed prettily at the accuracy of his observation. “With this proposal, I would never see even a third of my contribution returned.”
“It’s not like you need it,” she huffed, irritation sharpening her words.
Lucius’s lips curved. He had struck a nerve, and the thought of toying with her sent a thrill through him, yet he resisted. “Now, Miss Granger, you came here under the guise of a business meeting. You cannot tell a businessman he does not need a return on his investment.”
His smirk widened as her expression soured. She despised conceding, and they both knew it.
“You are right,” she admitted at last, exhaling a frustrated sigh as she shifted in her chair. “I was hoping that you would help, because of our history.”
Ah. That was an entirely different matter. His gaze sharpened, catching the way her teeth caught her lower lip, and the subtle tension in her shoulders.
“If this is a personal inquiry, I would like you to tell me now, Miss Granger.”
She nodded, but he clicked his tongue softly, unsatisfied. “I need to hear you say it.”
He watched the way her thighs pressed together, the hesitation in her eyes warring with her resolve. When she finally spoke, her voice was quiet, but resolute.
“Yes, Lucius. I’m asking personally.”
The words lingered in the air between them, and with them came a dangerous shift.
While Lucius Malfoy was a reformed Death Eater, a man who had learned hard lessons, who’d watched as children were thrown into a war they had no business being a part of and vowed never to repeat such mistakes. He had changed. Truly.
But that did not make him a good man.
And in that moment, as her admission settled over him, the thoughts threading through his mind were anything but noble. He knew full well he could use this as an opportunity for them to each get what they wanted. The temptation coiled inside him like a serpent, ready to strike.
“Then what are you willing to give me in return, Hermione?”
She stared at him, wide-eyed.
“Because funding of this magnitude is significant,” he went on, voice low, deliberate, “and nothing comes for free.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” He clicked his tongue softly, savoring her reaction.
“What is it that you want from me?”
Lucius noticed the subtle shift of her body the way her bare thighs pressed tighter together, betraying her thoughts more than she would ever admit.
“Do I make you nervous, Miss Granger?”
The question slipped from his lips before he could stop it, even though the answer was already obvious. She was attracted to him whether to the man himself, or to the power he carried, he couldn’t yet decide. Hermione Granger was the type of witch who thrived on praise, yes, but in her eyes he also saw something deeper, the desperate longing for someone strong enough to take the control from her.
“No.” The lie was transparent, punctuated by yet another restless shift in her chair.
“What I want is quite simple, actually.” And with his mind made up, it truly was.
“I'll do anything.” The words fell from her lips without hesitation, and his cock throbbed painfully against his zipper at the sound of it.
“Be careful now,” he drawled, a mocking chuckle escaping him, “you haven’t even heard my proposal, Miss Granger.” But her eyes were sharp, determined, fixed entirely on him.
“If I don’t get this funding, the reserve will be forced to close.” Her spine straightened, and her amber gaze locked with his. “So do your worst, Lucius Malfoy.”
It was his turn to shift in his seat, his cock straining against the confines of his trousers at her challenge.
“In exchange for the funding…” He paused, savoring the moment. “I want you.”
Her breath hitched deliciously, and her fingers dug into the arms of her chair.
“Come again?”
“You’ll find I dislike repeating myself,” he replied coolly. “I will sign your contract to become your benefactor… if you sign one for me that states that you are to be…mine.”
The final word lingered heavily between them and he relished the way the crimson tint bloomed across her cheeks.
“What does that mean?” she asked, teeth catching on her bottom lip again.
“I want to fuck you, Miss Granger,” he scoffed, irritation threading through his desire. “I’d have thought that much would be obvious to someone so clever.”
Her brow furrowed as she studied him. “Why would you need a contract for that?”
A fair question, though one that made him tighten his jaw. Years of hard lessons had taught him that even pleasure came at a cost and he always ensured his i’s were dotted and his t’s crossed when it came to his personal life.
“Some lessons are learned the hard way.” He said matter of factly, “It’s important I have all agreements in writing.”
She watched him carefully, her gaze weighing every word, every flicker of emotion that crossed his face.
“Fine.”
He stilled, genuinely caught off guard, as he had expected more of a back and forth. “Just like that?”
“Yes, would you like me now or—?”
Her sarcasm cut through the air, and it grated on him. Insolent. Defiant. He made a mental note then and there to punish her later for it, thoroughly.
“I will have the paperwork drawn up,” he replied evenly, though his tone carried a subtle edge, “and you can come by the manor tomorrow so we can finalize everything.”
She rose gracefully, smoothing down her skirt with a composure that only fueled his hunger. He watched her fingers linger on the fabric, and in his mind he stripped it from her, imagined her beneath him bared, trembling, and completely undone.
“I will see you tomorrow afternoon.” She offered him a tight, polite smile before turning to leave, every sway of her hips deliberate, taunting.
The door shut softly behind her, and the silence that followed was welcome as he unfastened his trousers. Lucius wasn’t ashamed to admit at least to himself that he fisted his cock then and there, eyes closing as he envisioned what was to come, the moment she would come apart for him, writhing, begging, breaking beneath his touch.
-•⋅⋅⋅•⋅✦⋅•⋅⋅⋅•-
By the time Hermione stepped into his study the next afternoon, Lucius was already hard with anticipation. He had spent the night before crafting the contract with meticulous care, every word vague enough to allow him freedom, binding enough to ensure she would belong to him entirely. He knew precisely what he wanted and he had every intention of getting it all.
As she walked in, in a simple off the shoulder dress, nude heels that lengthened her legs, understated elegance that only made her all the more dangerous to him, he knew that his restraint would be tested.
“Good afternoon, Hermione.” He greeted her with a sinful smile, satisfaction curling through him as he caught the faint flush blooming across her chest.
“Good afternoon. I assume you have the proposal lined out for me?” she asked, taking her seat. The deliberate cross of her legs sent her skirt riding higher, a movement that made his cock throb in approval.
“I have.” He slid the contract across the desk and leaned back, watching her as she began to read.
Her brows drew together, and she muttered under her breath, “This is… more than I’d expected… Exclusive?”
“Did you believe,” he chuckled darkly, “that I would agree to this endeavor for a one time shag?”
She had the decency to look slightly embarrassed, eyes flicking down. “I suppose I hadn’t truly taken into consideration that you might be interested in more than just the novelty of having me.”
His jaw tightened. Offended both for himself and for her. “I am not sure how you envision me, Miss Granger, but you would be mistaken to think this is about novelty. You will certainly not be the first Muggleborn I have been with. My desire for you is not rooted in curiosity. I believe I have outlined my interests quite plainly.”
Her eyes widened at his admission, and his eyes drawn to the way that she nervously began uncrossing, then recrossing her legs.
“Yes, sir, you have.”
The title on her tongue nearly dragged a groan from him. He reined it in, his voice silken instead. “Do you have any questions?”
“There is no timeline for the contract.” Her tone carried hesitation, but not refusal as he might have feared.
“That is by design. My proposal is clear, I will fund the reserve under your management for as long as you adhere to my terms.” He held her gaze, letting his next words fall with deliberate weight. “It is important you understand me, Hermione. For the duration of this contract, you are mine. You will make yourself available to me at any time I wish. You needn’t think of me as a partner in the traditional sense if that is beyond your comfort… but for as long as you are mine, you are mine alone. I do not share.”
“I can’t date or see other people in the time that you are our benefactor,” she clarified, testing the depth of his words.
“More importantly,” he corrected smoothly, “you can’t fuck anyone else. Your body will be mine. And in turn your pleasure.”
“I don’t belong to anyone, Mr. Malfoy.”
“You are being a brat.” His voice dropped, sharp with warning. “You know very well what I am saying. If you want to act like an obstinate child, you can see yourself out.”
“No.”
“No?” His brow arched, icy eyes pinning her in place.
“I’ll behave. I can agree to these parameters.” He could hear the urgency of her words.
He clasped his hands tighter as she squirmed under his icy gaze, “I need you to be certain. This kind of commitment should take real consideration.”
“There is no hardship in being your pet, I’m certain…and it gets me what I’m after. This is an easy decision, Lucius.”
“Pet?” The word lingered, curling darkly from his tongue.
“Considering I’m to come at your command, it seemed fitting.” She smirked in a way that peaked his arousal.
“Come here.”
The command was low, dangerous, and it was clear that it lit something inside her. Her pupils widened, and he watched as she obeyed without hesitation, rising from her chair and closing the distance in quick strides. When she stood before him, Lucius let his hand travel slowly up her torso, savoring each curve before gripping firmly at the back of her neck, pulling her down until his lips hovered just above hers.
“You think you’re clever, little witch?” She opened her mouth to answer, but his grip tightened, silencing her with a hiss of breath. “If you’re so sure this is what you want, pet… let’s get this started.”
His tone was like velvet over gravel, and he delighted in the way she squirmed beneath his hold.
“Yes, please.” The words slipped out in a whimper, trembling and eager.
Lucius nearly growled. She already begged so prettily and he knew she’d prove to be a needy little thing, desperate to be claimed. But not all at once. Tonight, she’d only get a taste. He would draw out her hunger until she craved him with her arousal.
He spun her sharply, bending her over his desk, one hand still firm at the nape of her neck. With the other, he dragged her skirt up over the swell of her arse, bunching it at her waist. Her sharp intake of breath made him smirk, and a groan rumbled from his chest when his gaze fell upon lacey green knickers, the gusset already soaked through.
“Did you wear these for me, pretty girl?” he murmured, hooking his thumbs under the sides.
“Yes,” she admitted, breathless.
He hummed approval, slow and deliberate, as he peeled the delicate fabric down her legs, savoring the reveal of her skin.
“Good girl.” His praise was like dark honey, and he slipped the knickers into his pocket as if to claim his prize.
He didn’t miss the way her body shivered at the words, her arousal laid bare not just in the glisten between her thighs but in the way she strained toward his touch. He wanted to tease her further, to unravel her with words alone but once his gaze locked on to her cunt, slick and waiting, begging silently for him to take what was his, he knew that wouldn’t happen today.
His hand came down firmly across her arse, and he watched with satisfaction as the supple skin bloomed pink beneath his touch. She squirmed in his hold but didn’t protest only arched her back, gifting him the prettiest little moan.
Lucius traced a single finger down, parting her folds with agonizing slowness. Her sharp, breathy hiss made his cock twitch.
“You’re so wet already, my naughty girl,” he murmured, his voice like smooth as silk. His hand slid forward, pressing his ring deliberately against her clit.
“Lucius,” she moaned, his name falling from her lips like a prayer. Like music to his ears that he wanted to hear again and again.
He could feel his need building, the desire to fuck her into oblivion, to edge her until she understood that she and her pleasure belonged to him.
But strategy mattered. If he wanted her to be more than just contractually bound, if he wanted her true submission, he couldn’t give her everything too quickly. So, with deliberate cruelty, he pulled his hand away. Causing her to whimper at the loss, and his smirk merely widened.
Unhurried, he unbuttoned his trousers, freeing his aching cock. He stroked his slick crown once, smearing precum across the thick head, eyes fixed on the smooth, perfect curves of her body bent over his desk. Then he pulled her back onto his lap, forcing her back flush against his chest.
“You’re going to sit here and warm my cock like a good girl while we sign these contracts,” he whispered, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. “Tell me you understand, pet.”
Her body shuddered, her voice trembling as she answered, “I understand.”
Without hesitation, he lifted her just enough to guide himself in, then seated her fully in one deep thrust. She cried out, a sharp, high-pitched moan as he bottomed out inside her needy little cunt. He felt her walls fluttering, struggling to adjust around his size. He knew he should have taken his time, this was her first time with him, and likely the first time with anyone his size. But patience had its limits and she had needed to learn.
“Fuck,” she hissed, her fingers gripping the edge of his desk desperately.
Normally, he would take his time, make a witch fall apart on his fingers or tongue before splitting her open with his thick cock. But not today. Today, she would learn discipline, learn what it meant to be hib. He would make her beg for her release while she squirmed helplessly in his lap, forced to sit still with him buried inside her.
She needed to want him. To crave him. To beg for him to fuck her before he’d ever allow her the bliss of coming undone for him.
And though every muscle in his body screamed to take her hard against the desk to claim her pleasure as his own Lucius Malfoy prided himself on his patience. He would wait. He would make her break first.
He leaned forward slowly, quill in hand, resting his chin against her shoulder as he signed the first page. The subtle shift drove him deeper, and her perfect cunt clenched around him in a way that nearly unraveled his composure. He felt her thighs quiver as she tried to adjust to the stretch, but with a firm hand on her hip he stilled her movements. He said nothing, only turned another page and began to read.
Her shallow breaths betrayed her struggle to behave. He could feel her fluttering around his cock, feel the slick heat dripping down his length. She needed to move, he could tell but she resisted.
Until he leaned forward again, flipping to the next page. The angle shifted just enough, and a broken little moan slipped from her lips.
On instinct, her fingers slid toward her folds. But before she could reach her clit, his hand shot out, catching both wrists in a single possessive grip.
He clicked his tongue, shaking his head as her body trembled. “Your pleasure belongs to me while you are with me, little witch. If you are going to come, it will be because I allow you to,” he whispered against her ear. Her cunt clenched so tightly around him at his words that she nearly undid him.
“Please.”
He tutted again, lips brushing the curve of her neck before pressing a kiss there. She whimpered, desperate for him to move.
He flipped another page, his chest pressing against her back, and she began to tremble. “Your turn,” he murmured, sliding the quill into her hand.
Her fingers shook as she reached forward and scrawled her name across the dotted line.
“Please, Lucius.” Her voice cracked with need, and he didn’t have to ask what she wanted as her body said it for her, every twitch of her cunt around his cock begging him for release.
“Patience, pretty girl. We still have the next contract,” he replied firmly, his right hand sliding down to clutch her trembling thigh.
She gasped when her body betrayed her, tightening around him again, and Lucius had to fight down his own desire. She was being so very good for him…obedient, even while she squirmed on his cock, desperate and pleading. The thought of breaking her slowly, of making her beg until her voice gave out, nearly drew him to the edge.
He turned to the next contract. His hips shifted with the motion, dragging his cock against her walls in one slow stroke. She moaned helplessly, her hands clawing at his desk as if she could anchor herself against the overwhelming need he built within her.
“That’s it, pretty girl.” He hummed, “For your first time, you really are doing so well for me,” he whispered against her ear before catching her lobe gently between his teeth.
Her walls fluttered around him, her thighs clenching in desperate search for friction, and he nearly lost his composure at the sensation. Slowly, deliberately, he adjusted his signet ring, inching his hand higher up her trembling thighs. Her breath hitched, his every touch leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.
He knew he was being cruel, teasing her with patience she didn’t possess. Her body was so responsive, every quiver betraying how close she already was. But he didn’t relent. He flipped another page with infuriating calm, and she whimpered.
“Luc—”
“I’m just making sure everything is right before we sign,” he cut in smoothly, his eyes never leaving the parchment.
Her body screamed for more, slick and tight around him, begging for touch. When his fingers finally reached their destination, he didn’t even part her folds, just brushed through her moisture, building her anticipation.
“Oh gods,” she breathed, trembling. He kissed her shoulder, savoring her shudder.
“You’ve been so good for me, little witch. I think you deserve a reward.” His smirk ghosted across her skin as he whispered the incantation, and then waited for the realization to hit her.
She tensed instantly as the magic thrummed to life, his cock nudging her at a new angle that tore a gasp from them both.
“Yes… please… I’ll be so good for you, Lucius… please.”
“You beg so pretty for me, Hermione.” He brought his now vibrating ring to her swollen clit, grinding it mercilessly against her most tender spot.
Her scream rang out, her cunt clenching around him so tightly he had to bite her shoulder to keep control.
“You’re going to be the death of me,” he groaned, pressing hungry kisses over the fresh mark.
She whimpered, nails clawing at his desk, her slick heat pulsing, moments away from breaking. But just as her body climbed that final peak, he pulled away, denying her. The strangled sound that left her throat nearly unraveled him.
“No… please, I was so close,” she whined, twisting to meet his gaze with those wide, amber eyes.
Without a word, he turned to the last page of the contract, his hand never leaving her trembling thigh. She was doing so well, holding on through every cruel denial, and pride swelled in his chest at her obedience. Twice more he brought her to the edge, twice more he tore her back, his ring leaving a heated mark on her most sensitive flesh.
By the time he signed the final page, she was trembling in his lap, desperate and undone. He placed the quill in her hand once more.
“Last signature.”
She took the quill with trembling hands and signed her name on the dotted line. The instant her signature settled on the paper, the reality of it hit him…this was real. She was his.
Without hesitation, he brought his ring back to her clit, pressing and grinding with deliberate motion.
This time, he didn’t hold back. As her body tensed and her walls clenched around him, her orgasm crashed over her like a tidal wave. Her cunt squeezed him with every spasm, and he had to draw on every ounce of self control not to follow her over the edge.
The sweetest, most desperate moan slipped from her lips as he finally lifted her from his lap and set her on unsteady feet.
“I’ll get you copies of the contract by mid day tomorrow. I hope you have a wonderful rest of your evening, Miss Granger.” His voice remained calm, controlled, though he relished the way she stared at him, mouth slightly agape.
“That’s… you… you don’t want to?” she stammered, confusion and longing flickering across her face.
“That will be all for today. I’ll reach out again soon.”
He savored the shock and disbelief painting her features it made restraining himself almost worth it. Once she had said her goodbyes and left the study, Lucius finally let go of his restraint. He fisted himself to the memory of her perfect cunt, the warmth and tightness still echoing around him. He came to thoughts of her, already counting the minutes until he could have her again, even though he knew that it would take time before he could claim her fully, and make her entirely his.
-•⋅⋅⋅•⋅✦⋅•⋅⋅⋅•-
Lucius didn’t know how he had managed to wait the seven days before finally summoning her once more. Each day since signing the contract, she had haunted his thoughts, the image of her coming undone on his lap seared into his mind. And when she walked into his study that afternoon in a flowing blue summer dress, her skin glowing, her presence intoxicating, he knew he would not resist tasting her today.
He waved a hand over his desk, clearing it in an instant as she approached, a soft smile tugging at her lips.
“Up you get, pet.” He commanded, nodding toward the desk.
Her eyes widened, her bottom lip caught delicately between her teeth. But after a moment, she obeyed, perching herself in the middle of the desk, legs straddling him. He hummed his approval as she leaned back on her elbows, splayed open just the way he wanted her.
A low, appreciative groan escaped him as his hands trailed along her thighs, savoring the feel of her beneath his touch.
Hooking his thumbs into her knickers, he slowly dragged them down her perfect legs, admiring the long, toned legs admittedly impressive for someone so petite. His cock twitched painfully as his gaze fixed on her glistening center, that pretty little pussy just begging for him to claim it.
He felt the familiar pop of his joints as he sank to his knees before her, while age might have bothered him another time it certainly wouldn’t now. Not when the most exquisite meal awaited him.
“So wet for me already, pet?” His nose brushed against her mound before he pressed his lips and tongue between her folds, teasing just enough to make her squirm.
She whimpered, thighs jerking, and he quickly held them down, keeping her spread wide. He dove his tongue along her slit until he reached her clit, teeth grazing it gently, drawing an involuntary buck.
“Oh gods,” she moaned, one hand tangling in his hair, fingers digging into his scalp.
He didn’t linger in teasing her this time. Not after she had been so perfect for him the first day. Today, he knew exactly what she needed and he was determined to show her a fraction of what he was capable of. He buried his face between her thighs, dragging his tongue hard and hungry from arse to clit, holding her down as she moaned and writhed for him.
A guttural grunt left him as he circled her tight bud, then flattened his tongue for a long, firm lick. Her hips jerked upward, a sob tearing from her lips. His hands slid to her hips, pressing her further down. She was already drenched, glistening around him, and he knew she wouldn’t last long under his relentless attention.
“That’s it, pet. Take what you need. I know that you’re already so close for me,” he murmured, lips slick kissing her greedy cunt once more.
Every fiber of him ached to relieve himself as his aching cock pressed firmly against its confines, but he resisted. He could wait. He wouldn’t fuck her... Not yet…Not until she had learned exactly how to give herself to him.
He captured her clit between his lips, flicking it with the rough edge of his tongue. She cried out, both hands tangling in his hair, anchoring herself to him. He was surprised by how much he loved the feel of her firm grip, the way she pulled him impossibly closer as he kept his mouth buried in her needy cunt.
He worked her with relentless attention, alternating between lapping and suckling, drawing her closer to the edge. Her nails scraped his scalp as she whimpered his name over and over, each sound a note of worship that fed his pride.
“That’s it, pet. Such a good girl… come for me… come on my tongue… let me taste you.”
He flicked and licked her with precision, feeling her tremble as the climax built. When it hit, her body locked, a raw cry escaping her lips as she shattered on him. He held her through every pulse, letting her legs clamp around his head, drowning them both in the exquisite rhythm of her release. Her cunt fluttered fiercely against his lips, and he drank her down, savoring her like the precious gift she was.
When her thighs finally relaxed, still twitching, she gasped through the tail end of her orgasm. He groaned into her, pressing kisses along the apex of her thighs before finally letting her go.
Lowering her carefully off his desk onto unsteady legs, he met her worried gaze.
“Don’t worry, pet. Our time will come soon enough.”
After a moment, she left, and Lucius closed the door behind her. Minutes later, he came hard into his fist, the lingering taste of her still on his tongue. He knew, without a doubt, that next time he had her, he wouldn’t be able to hold himself back any longer. She was everything he could have dreamed of, but she was too good, too perfect.
And so Lucius was determined to see his plan through.
-•⋅⋅⋅•⋅✦⋅•⋅⋅⋅•-
It had been five days since their encounter on his desk, and Lucius had intended to make her wait five more. But the Gala for the reserve had upended that plan. The moment he saw her, chestnut curls cascading down her back in a sinfully tailored champagne colored dress, he knew he would be ripping it from her body that very night.
He tried to appear aloof, chatting with the other guests, but the moment he spotted her on the dancefloor with that oaf’s hands roaming her his temper flared.
“You can’t kill him,” Draco’s voice cut in, and Lucius turned to see his son, having approached unnoticed.
“I don’t know what you mean,” Lucius scoffed, taking a long sip of his whisky.
“You do know she tells Harry everything, don’t you?” Draco raised an eyebrow. Lucius had to admit he hadn’t expected her to divulge their agreement to anyone let alone his sons. “It was a bold move, you know.”
“I saw an opportunity,” Lucius admitted, taking another swing of his drink.
“You could have just asked her to dinner, you realize.” Draco said but Lucius barely registered it, his eyes fixed on the man with his hands on Hermione.
“Who is that?” he finally asked. Draco merely laughed.
“Zacharias Smith. He’s quite the creep, actually.”
“Great.” Lucius hissed, downing the rest of his glass.
“Go get the girl. But seriously don’t kill him. It’s been nice having you out of prison,” Draco called after him as Lucius strode to the dance floor.
His hand found her wrist immediately, pulling her to his side. The man, Zacharias, looked like he was about to speak, but Lucius leveled him with a glare that sent him scuttling away.
“What is your problem?” Hermione hissed as he dragged her off the floor and toward the floo.
“I was quite clear, pet. You are mine, and I do not share,” he growled, calling out Malfoy Manor as they entered.
“It was just a dance,” she tried to defend herself as they entered the manor, but Lucius wasn’t in the mood for excuses. Instead, he scooped her up, flinging her over his shoulder.
“Oh my Gods! Put me down, you brute!” she squealed as he smacked her ass.
“Settle yourself,” he muttered.
He could have apparated them directly to his bed, but there was something about holding her like this struggling, squirming against him that made his cock ache against his trousers, a sharp reminder of how much he wanted her.
When he finally carried her into his chambers and set her back on her feet, Lucius wasted no time. His mouth crashed against hers, the kiss searing in its passion, hot enough to burn away restraint. She met him with equal fire, lips parting for him, and he knew he could not wait another moment to claim her.
He made good on his earlier promise, tearing the champagne dress from her body. Her gasp told him she was displeased at the loss but the hunger in her eyes, the way her body pressed against his, betrayed just how badly she needed him as well.
In what felt like a heartbeat, they were both bare. As he positioned her onto the center of his bed and descended without hesitation, his mouth fastened on her with a single minded devotion. He drew her swollen nub between his teeth, tugging lightly until she cried out, her fingers instantly digging into his scalp.
Between her thighs, just like this was exactly where he belonged. Worshipping her. Coaxing those desperate, broken sounds from her lips. Claiming what had, in truth, been his for weeks.
Her hands tangled deeper into his hair, holding him tight, as though the very idea of him pulling away was unbearable the closer she got. He groaned at the pressure, burying his face between her folds, plunging his tongue deeper. His nose brushed her clit, lips and tongue working in perfect, practiced rhythm.
He lapped and suckled, relentless yet reverent, and her trembling body told him how close she was. Her voice broke on his name, a mantra that fed his hunger. Gods, the way she came apart for him was sinful. Utterly sinful.
Flattening his tongue, he dragged it slowly, firmly over her, savoring the way her thighs quivered around his head. The tension in her body coiled tighter and tighter, her climax cresting. He never let up, flicking her clit with exacting pressure until her body shattered.
Her cry split the air as she locked up, thighs clamping around his head, grinding him deeper into her. Her cunt fluttered wildly against his tongue, her release flooding his mouth, and he groaned into her, drunk on her taste, her scent, her cries. He held her through every spasm, licked her through every pulse, until her grip loosened and her trembling legs finally gave out.
She gasped in the aftermath, chest heaving, lips parted in disbelief at the force of her release.
Lucius sat back on his heels, breath harsh, awe in his gaze. His hand wrapped around his cock, thick and leaking, desperate for her. He had never seen anything so devastatingly beautiful as this witch completely undone beneath him, her body trembling, her eyes glazed with ecstasy. And in that moment, he knew he would never tire of it.
“You are mine, pet. Tell me that you understand that,” he groaned, tracing a long finger between her folds, reveling in the way she gasped still achingly sensitive.
“It was just a dance,” she mumbled halfheartedly, but he wasn’t about to let her get away with it that easily.
“I don’t want excuses.” His tongue clicked in disapproval as he smacked her inner thigh, sharp enough to sting. She gasped, and he pressed on, voice low and dangerous. “Another man’s hands were all over you. Groping your arse… my arse.” He huffed, pressing his thumb against her clit.
“This will never be just an arrangement, Hermione. Tell me you feel it.”
He needed her to understand. To say the words. To admit this was more than a contract binding them.
Her amber eyes lifted to his, soft and vulnerable as she arched into his touch. “I…I feel it too, Lucius.”
His chest tightened, heat flooding through him. He fisted his cock slowly, pumping with one hand while the other circled her clit in delicate, maddening strokes. “So tell me whose needy little cunt is this?”
“Oh, God,” she moaned, thighs trembling.
“Whose, Hermione?” he growled, voice fraying with the strain, his cock slick in his fist, desperate for reprieve.
“Yours!… it’s yours, only yours,” she cried, voice breaking on the words.
“Good girl.” A feral pride surged through him, rough and consuming.
He wanted nothing more than to feel her come apart around him while buried so deep inside her she’d feel him for days. The thought alone had him groaning, need twisting sharp in his chest. Gods, he wanted to wreck her to have her completely undone, over and over, until she wanted no pleasure but his. The wanting unsettled him, even as it consumed him.
“Tell me again. Tell me what you are, pet.” His voice came out a ragged whisper, thick with desperation as he hovered over her, eyes searching, demanding.
She looked radiant beneath him flushed, sated, content. But he still needed to hear it.
Her fingers threaded gently through his, grounding him with their soft press. Her voice, barely more than a breath, “I’m yours. Not just because of the contracts, Lucius. I’ve been yours. Only yours.”
The words undid any lingering restraint he had left. His breath left in a shaky exhale, his grip on her thighs tightening as if to anchor himself. A guttural groan rumbled through his chest as she opened for him, legs falling wide in invitation.
Her gaze locked onto his as he pressed the thick head of his cock to her entrance, the heat of her slick core cunt drawing him in. His hands slid to her waist, steadying her as he began to sink slowly into her.
Her gasp rang through his room, sharp and breathless, as he stretched her open around him. He stilled, jaw tight, teeth gritted, watching the way her fingers clutched at his wrist. For a fleeting moment, worry flickered, had he prepared her enough? She had taken him once before, yes, but her body was still so tight, so unaccustomed to his size.
He was buried to the hilt, driving into places that wrenched cries from her lips, her nails biting into his skin as he fought not to spill like some desperate boy.
“Oh, gods… more, please…”
Her broken plea snapped him from his doubts and he thrust deeper, a harsh hiss escaping through his teeth as her walls clamped down around him like a vice. She was impossibly tight, gripping him so fiercely it was agony not to give in and take her with wild abandon.
“You’re too bloody perfect… you are mine… only mine,” he ground out, voice raw with need.
“More, gods I need you…” she begged
“Fuck, anything…mine…you’re mine, this needy cunt…it’s all mine,” he growled out a deep possessiveness spilling out unchecked as his hips pounded into her with growing urgency. His hands clutched her waist, branding her with the strength of his hold.
“Yes! Only ever yours,” she gasped, breathless.
The way she melted for him, the way they moved together it felt impossible in its rightness, as though this had always been meant for this. Each hard roll of his hips buried him deeper, bound them tighter. He couldn’t look away from her… her parted lips, her brow drawn tight in ecstasy, the sweet, desperate sounds she sang for him, and him alone.
He kissed her with a fierce passion, biting her lower lip, coaxing her tongue to dance with his. He felt the shift in her body, the trembling in her thighs, the way she clenched around him in frantic rhythm. She was close, so close and he was going to drive her over the edge, again and again.
“You’re doing so well… you’re so good… so good for me, pet,” Lucius murmured, voice husky, anchoring himself to the rhythm of her writhing body, his fingers bruising into her hips.
Her cries, his name tumbling from her kiss swollen lips, were sweeter than sin. He felt himself sliding toward the edge, undone by the sight of her greedy cunt swallowing him whole. The slick sound of their joining nearly unmoored him.
When she begged for more, he gave it to her thrusting harder, deeper chasing the wild ecstasy of her unraveling. One hand skimmed the curve of her stomach before pressing down, savoring the firm ridge of his cock inside her. The sensation nearly broke him, his control splintering at the seams.
He dragged his palm higher, cupping her breast with rough reverence. She arched into his hand with a choked cry, nails tearing at the sheets as he rolled her nipple between his fingers. Her whimpers rose in pitch, her body tightening around him, spurred higher by his touch.
“Mine,” he growled, his mouth seizing the curve of her neck. His teeth grazed her skin, a sharp nip marking her as his while her hips lifted to meet every driving thrust, desperate to keep pace with the force of his claim.
He pressed closer, each stroke stoked by the fire between them, his chest grazing hers, the weight of his body forcing him deeper still. One hand slid from her breast to cage her ribs, thumb stroking her side in tender contrast to the relentless drive of his hips. His other hand pinned her firmly, anchoring her to him as their crescendo swelled.
Her moans filled the air, breathy and raw, brushing his lips ever so lightly. She was trembling, her muscles fluttering around him, teetering on the brink. He pulled back just enough to see her, to watch her unravel for him.
Her head tipped back, eyes rolling, lips parted in ecstasy.
“I need you to come for me,” he whispered, lips brushing the delicate skin of her throat, his voice frayed with want. “Can you do that for me?”
The broken, breathless whimper she gave him was everything.
She shattered beneath him, her orgasm tearing through her like a wave. Her body trembled and locked, her cunt clenching so tight he groaned, nearly lost in her grip. The way she held him was dizzying, stealing his breath, stripping him bare.
“Gods, Luc, I’m so full…” she moaned, his hands gripping his forearms.
“I wish you could see how gorgeous you look impaled on my fat cock,” he whispered as his hips snapped forward.
“it’s too much… gods, I can feel you…everywhere, fuck,” she cried, clinging to him.
“You can take it… you take me so beautifully, pretty girl,” he rasped, his voice hoarse but threaded with praise, a crooked smile tugging at his lips. “Look at you… You can give me another, I know you can.”
He knew her body already, and he was certain she could do it, and he would hold her through it. Through every tremor, every aftershock, until she had nothing left but herself to give. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever known.
“That’s it,” he whispered, raw with emotion, clutching her tight. “Gods, you’re perfect. You’ve done so well for me.”
His grip on her waist tightened as he thrust through the tremors of her climax, grounding her as her body shook violently beneath him. His voice softened, coaxing, worshipful.
“That’s it, love… just like that.”
Her body quaked, slick and trembling, every nerve alight as he moved with her. He was barely holding on himself, thrusts losing rhythm, driven now by pure instinct, stretching her with every desperate stroke. She arched into him, hips rising to meet his again and again. Before she finally came once more, hard, her body trembling until at last she went limp beneath him, utterly spent, given over to him completely.
Lucius buried himself to the hilt with a ragged groan, head thrown back as her name tore from his throat. He drove so deep he felt the blunt press against her cervix. His release ripped through him, hot and devastating. His body shook with the force of it as he spilled himself into her, every drop branding her as his just as he had intended.
In that moment, as he looked down at her so serene he knew he had succeeded, that his witch would be ruined for anyone else.
When she had gone limp, slipping into unconsciousness, he hadn’t been surprised. He merely pulled her close, tucking her into his side, content to watch her chest rise and fall, to marvel at her beauty as she slept. He decided then that she would have her hour or so of rest because he knew that she would need it as he was far from done with her.
Even now two hours later he still didn’t know how he had gotten so lucky, what he had done in a previous life to deserve this witch and her perfect, greedy little cunt, the one that was currently welcoming him home with every single thrust. When she stirred, moaning his name just as he snapped his hips to meet hers, he watched as her hands fisted the sheets and he thought he would never let her go.
“Oh, fuck,” she hissed, voice breaking, and he chuckled low against her skin before pressing a kiss to her shoulder.
They fucked twice more that night, and when dawn crept through the curtains, he slowed, softened, and made love to her deep and unhurried. Only then, finally sated, did Lucius allow himself to rest, his witch tucked securely against his side, right where she belonged.