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Peki [userpic]
Fic: Ouroboros (9.2/?), Lucius/Narcissa, NC-17
by Peki (peki)
at January 16th, 2017 (03:01 pm)



He’d no sooner apparated them to the town house than Narcissa threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. She tasted of copper and fear, bloodied and bruised, but with the dark energy of the fight still blackening Lucius’s insides, it felt appropriate. This here was no fairytale; their relationship was steeped in darkness now, but Narcissa clung to him and didn’t let go, desperate for reassurance in the wake of her own sister’s betrayal.

She gasped in great lungfuls of air when they broke apart, hysteria threatening to overwhelm her now that she was finally safe, but his hands on her shoulders anchored her, kept her there with him when she would fly off carried by the wings of madness. “Breathe, Cissy. Calm yourself. I will summon a healer to look at your face--”

“No!” she protested, shuddering. “I couldn’t bear to have a stranger touching me. Show me what you have in your potions kit. Surely there has to be Essence of Dittany.”

“Yes. Come upstairs.”

He half carried her up, his arm wrapped firmly around her back. Narcissa swayed unsteadily, thrown off balance and aching from the curse. “To be subjected to the…the torture curse,” she murmured, leaning into his side as if she wanted to crawl inside him and hide. “And by my own sister... No, I can’t bear to think about it.” She squeezed her eyes shut, breathing hard through her mouth. On the upstairs landing, they stopped.

“Please,” Lucius said in a feeble attempt to tease her. “You’re not going to faint now, are you. That would be silly.”

She pried her eyes open to find him looking at her closely, his frown at odds with the words. He couldn’t make light of what had just transpired, much as he wanted to; try as he might, he couldn’t bring himself to just not care. His arm tightened around her back, and Narcissa kind of curled up against him, smiling faintly.

“Nothing can happen to me here, can it? To us?”

“No,” Lucius said with more confidence than he felt, but it seemed to calm her enough that she didn’t feel the need to pass out.

He led her to his private quarters, which were in a part of the house she had not yet seen. When he’d imagined taking her to his bedroom, he’d envisioned more fanfare, but now they simply ended up there and Narcissa was too exhausted, anyhow, to appreciate the splendor. He took her through the lavishly furnished suite straight into his bathroom, where he sat her down on the edge of the claw footed bathtub and began to rummage through a cabinet for medicine.

There wasn’t much to be had in the way of potion ingredients, only that which Narcissa had gifted to him through the years, but even Lucius was smart enough to have Dittany on hand.

“It’ll do for now,” Narcissa said, dabbing at her face with it while he watched her. “I’ll make a potion tomorrow to treat the scar.”

“I should have killed her,” he growled when Narcissa cleaned away the blood on her cheek to assess the damage. A deep gash ran from her temple almost to her nose. He reached out and turned her towards him to examine her face, touching her with a tenderness that felt odd to him, but unwilling to hurt her more.

Narcissa sighed softly, turning her face into his palm. “Are you all right?”

“Yes. Don’t worry about me.”

“But I do!” She bit her lip hard. “For a moment there, when she fired the curse, I thought she’d killed you. And I knew... I knew then that I should die if I lost you. I’d kill her first, mind, but then--”

He tried to smirk, but the expression felt strange on his face and did nothing to lessen the impact of the sentiment. He grasped her around the waist and held her to him, his hands running all over her to assure himself she was still in one piece. She might be a Black and duly overdramatic, but she wasn’t wrong. “No, you’d be just fine.”

She shook her head. “This is our world now,” she whispered into the crook of his neck. “I shall go mad having to live in it, knowing I could every day be in danger of having to let you go.”

“It is you who got hurt today, not I,” he reassured her, “And we’re together now. That’s all that matters.”

“Yes, we are. And we will make the most of it.” He was surprised when she pulled him down to her and pressed a hard kiss to his lips. He was still wearing the bloodied, ceremonial robes of his secret order; shuddering, she pushed them off his shoulders and kicked them into a corner, out of sight, as if to claim him for herself alone. “It is now.”

He took her meaning at once. “Do you really think this is the best moment to...” He broke off and shook his head. “Oh, let’s dispense with courtesies. I’m not going to say no.”

“Good,” she gasped, her fingers pulling at his buttons already. In truth, it was probably good not to stop and think and let doubt creep in again. They’d both wanted this since the first time they kissed all those years ago, and now the moment was here. She was right; it was time.

He chuckled quietly. “You put up such a convincing show of resistance, Cissy, I always thought I’d have to persuade you. But I should have known it’d be you doing the seducing.”

“And so I will,” she whispered. She drew back and stepped out of her left shoe, then the right. Without her heels, she looked smaller, more vulnerable, and even more so when she put her wand away on the edge of the sink. The ribbon at her neckline was stiff with dried blood; she must’ve missed a spot with her cleaning spell. She untied the bow and tossed it aside.

Lucius’s lips twitched. “This is the primmest seduction I have ever been privy to.”

She undid the belt at her waist, the buttons at her neck, and her dress slid off her shoulders, pooling around her ankles like a pale winter lake. She reached up to loosen her tight braid, her hair falling free to frame her like a silken veil. “Is it?” She stood before him dressed in wisps of lace, the pink colour of her underwear giving her appearance an air of girlish artlessness in spite of the fact that little was left to the imagination, and for the first time in his life, Lucius felt overwhelmed with the fulfillment of his desires, no, with the sheer anticipation of it.

“I stand corrected,” he managed, his blood having rushed somewhere other than his brain.

Her smile had an edge of triumph. “Yes, I believe you do.”

He took in the sight of her and laughed. She was all bravado, but who was he to call the lady on her bluff when it was so well played? “Who are you?” he said, advancing to lay a hand against her pale cheek, which bloomed pink under his touch. “After what happened earlier, I’m starting to think I don’t know you at all.”

“But wouldn’t you like to,” she smiled.

“Yes. But where to get started?”

Narcissa took a deep breath and reached for the top button of his shirt. “Right here. You’re not the only one who wants to get reacquainted.”

Chuckling, he allowed her to undo his buttons and push the shirt off his shoulders. He quickly shed his vest and resurfaced to find Narcissa eyeing his belt buckle and all that was visible below it. He took her hands and pressed a kiss to each one, then laid them against his bare stomach for her to go on in her own time, knowing this lady would not take well to demands no matter how much he itched to make them.

They’d touched each other intimately before, but they’d never undressed for it. Narcissa seemed momentarily overwhelmed, her fingers fluttering nervously over his bare chest before she touched him. What they’d done together at school, or even just recently, had felt daring at the time, but Lucius had been aware more than she was that it had been little more than innocent exploration. She’d always had a tight grip on her desire before, allowing herself and him a bit of secret thrill but always stopping it leading anywhere. It frustrated Lucius to no end when she touched him without allowing him to reciprocate, and especially when she teased him without seeing through the promise that her hands made him, and he wondered if she would finish what she started now.

He’d probably explode if she didn’t.

“You’re not going to leave me hanging tonight, are you?” he asked, low.

Narcissa glanced up at him, a smile curling the corners of her mouth when she recognised the barely controlled desire in the tight set of his jaw and the crease between his brows. “I’ve been wicked, haven’t I, doing that to you?”

“Very,” he drawled, sliding his hands lower on her hips to draw her in. “You have no idea how close I’ve come to spontaneous combustion.”

She laughed quietly. “Well, I’d apologise, but I’m not actually sorry.”

“Of course you’re not, you tease,” he said, and then he kissed her again. Wrapped up in his arms, Narcissa would feel the heat of his bare skin against hers and the sizeable bulge pressing against her stomach. She shrunk away from his belt buckle, which was uncomfortably cold, but at least it led her to make quick work of his belt. It clattered on the floor, and this time she didn’t stop to think or leave room for hesitation. Deftly, she undid his buttons and wiggled her hand down the front of his trousers, which was a familiar move even after all this time, so perhaps Lucius shouldn’t have been surprised at how expertly she played him. And yet, he was.

He released a sigh of relief when the front of his trousers sprang open, welcoming her touch as much as he ever had. An impish look came over Narcissa’s face as she glanced up at him and found him thoroughly affected already by even the lightest touch. Lucius struggled to maintain a look of superiority, but his hips twitched forward into her touch with every downward stroke of her hand, and he couldn’t help himself, he couldn’t. Soon, there would be no pretending to be aloof, or that he didn’t care for her, and the depths of desire that he felt for this woman were nigh terrifying.

The only course of action was to render her equally powerless in her need for him, and fortunately, he still had some more experience in how to accomplish that than she did. Merlin help him when the witch came into her own, he thought, and batted her hands away to shed his trousers. Finally, they were undressed to match, and Narcissa blushed accordingly with all the charming affectation of a proper lady, even though the twinkle in her eye suggested she wasn’t nearly as modest as she pretended.

She stroked her hand slowly up and down his silk-clad bulge, the slippery fabric soft over the hardness underneath. Her caress was still light, but he could feel that she was working herself and him up to a more purposeful touch. Her teeth dug into her lower lip against a slightly wicked smile as she watched his face for a reaction, and it occurred to him that she enjoyed doing this, and that he would fully exploit that new realization later.

It was startling to already be thinking of the next time, but there it was. As a rule, Lucius didn’t question his desires, he simply acted upon them, and even though he noted that some quiet reflection on that might be necessary later, he pushed the thought away for now. Narcissa was curling her fingers into the waistband of his shorts, carefully lifting them away from his straining erection as she inched them down, and he made a growling noise to get her to hurry up her torturous pace, his patience suddenly spent.

A spark of energy discharged when she finally touched his bare skin, making them both jump. He didn’t know if it had been her magic or his breaking through the cracks of their composure; it might have been either, for she didn’t look to be quite in control of herself anymore. Desire was shivering over her skin and leaving gooseflesh in its wake, and when she pressed herself against him now, the full length of her body slithering against his, he felt her tilt her hips just so and thought, There… - she might not know what she wanted him to do about the need that made her quiver, but he had some ideas, and the thought of implementing them was surprisingly exciting.

He’d never been intimate with anyone he felt more than a passing fancy for, and though he preferred for his partners to be responsive in their attraction to him, going through the motions of evoking female desire had always felt like a chore. Not so now; he wanted nothing more than to run his hands all over her porcelain skin, to explore every inch of that perfect body and find the secret spots that would make the tight reins of control she had over herself snap. He wanted to see her come undone in his arms, have her as helpless before him as he felt against his need for her, and yet return to him for more of what only he could give her.

He allowed her a few more moments of curious touching, but then he grabbed her hips again and pulled her back against him, kissing her so thoroughly that Narcissa went sort of weak in the knees. One of his hands came up to cup a breast, and while she was distracted by that, he smoothly removed her underwear.

Surprised, Narcissa glanced down at her bra as it slid off her arms, her knickers on the floor, but then she simply fit herself against him and smiled. “Proud of yourself, are you.”

Lucius realised he must look smug, but he had perfected the art of getting witches out of their underwear and it was paying off now. “The only thing I was thinking is how beautiful you are,” he muttered, cupping one hand around her breast while he held her close with his other arm, never breaking skin contact.

She laughed then. “Oh, so you’ll cloak yourself in charm once the clothes come off? I never thought I’d see the day!”

“This is a day of surprises,” he said ruefully, and a frown passed over her face like a cloud. Swiftly, he skimmed his hand over the swell of her breast, circling her nipple before he began to roll it between his fingers, and Narcissa forgot what had brought them here, forgot the pains that still marked her body and the terror that compelled her, everything except the feeling of his hands on her.

“Yes,” she whispered, her eyes falling shut as she pressed back against his touch, and Lucius felt fire flare at the pit of his stomach to hear that word and realize that it was all he’d ever wanted, all he’d needed from her ever since the first time they’d kissed. The feeling of possessiveness that surged up inside him was blinding and hot like wildfire, burning through every rational thought, and he knew he had to get her to his bed now or risk bending her over the sink right then and there, and that just wouldn’t do. Not the first time, anyway.

He swept her up in his arms and carried her through to his bedroom, grabbing their wands in passing. Dusk had fallen outside, and the room lay in shadows. Pieces of furniture made great big shapes in the darkness, but Narcissa only looked at the bed, which stood on a dais under an enormous roof window. A waxing moon was first appearing in the velvety evening sky now that the light of day was fading. When he set her down on the mattress, it was like she was a priestess of old, worshipping naked under the stars, communing with the elements.

Narcissa clung to his neck, drawing him over her as they fell into the pillows together. She was a tall woman, but underneath him, she suddenly seemed small and delicate. He felt her squirm around, trying to get accustomed to his weight above her, and allowed her a moment to make herself comfortable. His fingers fanned out to touch as much of her as possible while he fastened his lips over one breast and nipped at the sensitive underside, tracing the soft swell with his tongue before he sucked the nipple between his lips. That elicited pretty little noises from her, delicate gasps that nonetheless sounded loud in the silence of the house. He wondered if she could be made to be more vocal, what it would take to make her forget herself and whether she even knew enough about her own desires to guard herself against this need. The thought that he would be the first to discover these things about her, to make her find them out for herself, filled him with unabashed glee. He’d have what every many wanted, and she’d give it to him gladly, joyfully, and repeatedly if he had his way.

He sat back on his heels, grasping her knees to open her legs. Predictably, she blushed as he let his gaze travel down her body and then back up to her face. Smirking, he leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to her lips even as he cupped a hand over her pubic mound. “Is every part of you lovely and perfect?”

Narcissa shivered with anticipation. “I should hope so.”

Chuckling, he hooked one finger under the lace edge of her barely-there stockings to pull them off, but then thought better of it. “Do you still have those ugly woollen socks you used to wear with your school uniform?”

She raised her eyebrows. “Yes?”

“Wear them next time.” Every man had a weakness, after all, and Lucius thought that this one was entirely understandable.

Narcissa gave a soft little snort. “First you should convince me that there should be a next time, don’t you think?”

“Oh, I shall.”

Her stomach muscles twitched when he leaned down to kiss the skin below her navel, and then he was dragging his lips lower over soft blonde fuzz and she stiffened, half afraid of what he would do, how it would feel.

“Relax, Cissy,” he felt compelled to say. “This’ll be nice, I promise.”

“I thought you never made promises,” she whispered, looking unaccustomedly vulnerable.

“I’m making an exception.”

Her knees were trembling; she released a shuddering breath and nodded at him. Her eyes were wary when she watched him lean down to kiss at her mound, and she curled her fists into the bedsheets as if to keep herself from getting swept away, which was of course exactly what he endeavoured to do. Her cry, when he touched her with his lips, was loud in the silence of the house. Narcissa bit her lip, trying to contain the jubilation that would burst out of her as he tried to make the most secret of her desires flesh and blood and hot, wet sensation.

As a lover, Lucius didn’t even pretend to be selfless, but for now he focussed completely on her, wanting to learn the feel and taste of her beneath his lips as well as her reactions to every stroke of his tongue. The tension that had her body taut at first ebbed off and she relaxed underneath him. The first few touches were light, experimental, but when she pushed up to meet his teasing lips, he became bolder. Narcissa couldn’t have told him what she liked even if she’d wanted to, but instinct carried her through, and truly, Lucius needed little guidance; what they lacked in familiarity, they made up for in enthusiasm.

He hadn’t lied, or perhaps he had - nice was a poor word to describe what he proceeded to do to her, but she certainly wasn’t complaining. His lips were everywhere, sucking, teasing, and she soon lost all inhibitions as she writhed beneath him, still breathing those quiet moans into the night but otherwise rolling and crashing with his touch like a ship riding the ocean waves.

She was wet and ready when he let his tongue travel downwards to catch a taste, spreading the moisture there around until he could comfortably slide a finger inside her. She squirmed as her body adjusted to the intrusion and the sensation it caused. Lucius glanced up at her when she sighed softly and, emboldened by the rapt look on her face, proceeded to tease her mercilessly. He swirled his tongue in slow circles around her clit until Narcissa began to roll her hips in time with his rhythm, her legs falling open to allow him better access. When he curled his finger upwards inside her, he felt the first flutter of her orgasm shivering through her.

“Get on with it already,” she moaned, reaching for him but stopping just short of wrapping her hands in his hair. Lucius appreciated the restraint; he was fussy about his hair, not that he’d admit it to anyone, but she knew him, had to know now, too, what he wanted, and the beautiful thing was that she wanted the same.

He raised his head from between her legs. “Get on with what?”

“You know what.”

“I can guess,” he drawled, crawling up along her body again to kiss her. He’d taste of her; he wondered if she’d like that as he thrust his tongue into her mouth, and Narcissa didn’t disappoint. She kissed him with fervor, sucking her own taste off his lips as if she couldn’t get enough, her mouth red and hot and wet when they parted. His jaw clenched as he looked down at her, his hips moving now as of their own accord, pushing between her legs to find the place that was waiting for him, only for him. “Say it,” he ground out. “Say what you want me to do.”

She gave him her sweetest smile, which was only slightly wobbly with barely controlled need, and said, “Get inside me already.”

There was no holding back now, not even to stop and consider that he should be careful what he wished for. He lowered himself to cover her body with his.

“Wait--” Narcissa gasped on a last constructive thought as he grabbed impatiently at her hips, “The protective charms--”

“I already cast them,” he whispered, pushing her thighs further apart with his knee, overeager in his desire for her. He’d done so the moment they entered the house, as a matter of fact, but of course she wouldn’t be satisfied with that.

“And you think I’ll rely on your sloppy charmwork for this?” She grabbed blindly at the bedside table, where he had put their wands, and drew the shapes for the charm in the air with, admittedly, more precision that he might have, and then they were kissing again and the wand clattered on the floor, forgotten.

He nipped at her neck, her breast, moving in closer again so they were skin to skin and Narcissa’s breath hitched in her throat. If she felt apprehensive about what they were about to do, there was no time to dwell on it. Lucius always saw his desires through swiftly, and he thought he was smooth enough about it that there shouldn’t be undue discomfort. He pushed inside her in one fluid motion, as if this was what they’d always done, and then he was embedded as deeply as he could go, and she let out a shaky breath and folded her hands behind his back in a moment of prayerful gratitude.

For a heart’s beat, neither of them moved. They stared into each other’s eyes, astonished that they should find themselves here, and not. It was like coming home after a long journey, which was surprising as they hadn’t known this togetherness before, but although it was new, it was not unfamiliar somehow.

Neither of them played coy anymore; there was no pretending they had not both yearned for this, no, for once they were eager to show each other what they wanted, and fully basked in receiving it. Narcissa didn’t seem to feel shy about it either. After a minute of searching, feeling, finding herself within the pleasure they were sharing, she brought up her knees to wrap around his hips, drawing him in closer, and dug her heels into the backs of his legs to get him to move. He pushed further inside her, and when she clenched experimentally around him, he let out a strangled groan that felt like a confession.

They moved together with instinctive understanding, a rhythm emerging between them as naturally as could be. In hindsight, he did not know how they had resisted this for so long. Ignorance had saved them, but this here was perfection, and he could not fathom being without it now that he’d had a taste of it. Already, though, he could see up ahead the finish line they were racing to, the peak at the top of the mountain.

Lucius pushed hard at her, unable to resist as lust took over and wiped every other consideration from his mind. She flailed, her hands fluttering over his chest as he raised himself up on his elbows and came to rest more weight on the place where they were joined. Shuddering, Narcissa moved into the added pressure, splaying her legs open wider, and he took that as tacit approval, watching in utter fascination as she writhed and gasped beneath him. He wished she’d look back at him, but her lids fluttered closed each time he surged forward and forced a gasp from her lips, as if it was too much, too soon, but there was little he could do to prolong this moment when her body was answering, at last, to this long awaited call.

Narcissa’s hands scrabbled over his hips to try and slow him down, but he caught her wrists and held them above her head, unable to stop now even if he’d wanted to. “Go on,” he whispered, leaning down so they were chest to chest again, his body fully covering hers. “Just let it happen, Cissy.”

The reverent way he said her name was her undoing, coupled with the perfect rhythm of him rocking into her. Desperately, Narcissa turned her head to find his lips with hers, fitting herself fully to him as her orgasm shivered through her and exploded through the cracks of her composure. She cried out at last, the sound not fully contained between them as her head fell back into the pillows.

Groaning, Lucius picked up the pace, thrusting harder and deeper as the flutters of her climax spurred him on. He’d waited for her, but just barely, and when she tightened her legs around him again, he plunged into the depths of their shared pleasure over and over, his hands tightening around her wrists and his jaw clenching to contain the deep, hidden secret of his need. He went rigid above her with the pleasure that shuddered through him, and heard her voice as if from far away, “Yes, my love, yes,” and came deep inside her, holding himself so close to her for a moment that it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began.

Spent, he collapsed over her then. When he let go of her wrists, Narcissa buried her hands in his hair after all, stroking down the damp strands. He knew he should probably let her go, but truth be told, he didn’t want to, and Narcissa seemed to savour the moment of closeness. She stilled beneath him, tucked away between the softness of the mattress and his body above her, and he thought that he’d keep her safe there, protected against anything and anyone. Nothing could touch her now except he. It was a fanciful thought; one to examine later, in solitude.

“I am sorry,” he said at length, “I’m sure you had grand plans for that afternoon of herb picking and picknicking.”

She actually giggled. “I did, though I have to say there’s something to be said for spontaneity.” She wiggled her hips, and he twitched with the aftershocks of pleasure.

“Easy now, Witch,” he growled, turning his head so he could nip at her earlobe. “I might yet spontaneously combust.”

“I thought you just did,” she said dryly.

He snorted. “True. But if you’re not careful, I might do it again. Over and over and over.”

“Is that supposed to be a threat? Because I’m not scared.”

He lifted his head off her shoulder, feeling unusually animated with the pleasure they had shared. “Cissy, Cissy, what has gotten into you?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” she said, and he laughed.

“And here I thought you’d be shy.”

“Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know. I suppose you’ve played the proper little lady for so long, you almost had me convinced.” He stroked the back of his hand over her moist brow. “But I daresay reality is better than fantasy.”

“Quite,” Narcissa agreed serenely.

He moved back slightly so she could stretch out her legs, and though she protested halfheartedly, her knees were trembling and she moved gingerly, like she was aching in all sorts of places. She blushed when she caught him looking at the wet, pink patch on the mattress underneath her, and Lucius sniggered as he rolled them both over, away from the pretty mess they’d made.

“Would you care for a drink? I brought a very decent Chardonnay from France.”

Narcissa found herself a spot wedged between his side and the pillows, resting her head on his chest with her eyes closed. Her fingers drummed on his skin in time with the rhythm of his heart. “That depends. Would it involve getting up?”

“I’ll only be a minute. I don’t trust the elf in the wine cellar, too many bottles have been broken.”

She whined when he made to leave the bed, hooking one leg over his to keep him in place. “Give us a moment, will you.”

Lucius assented, stroking his hands over her back as she did her best to plaster herself permanently to his chest. He felt amusement humming through him, or pleasure perhaps; sex always invigorated him, the restless energy that drove him through life never being completely spent, and especially not after the battle that had come before. Narcissa seemed mellow now, though, but then she’d borne the brunt of her sister’s attack and the rigour of his lovemaking. The lady deserved a refreshment, Lucius thought generously, and possibly a moment by herself to freshen up if they were to continue later where they’d just left off.

On that thought, he detached himself to pop down to the basement, where he found a moment’s private reprieve along with a tasty vintage. Post-coital intimacy was as new to him as it was to her, something to get used to, but as he rummaged through racks of priceless bottles, he actually found himself shivering in the damp cellar and eager to return to bed and the woman waiting for him there. The urge was quite natural, he supposed, for the physical satisfaction alone, but he would’ve expected the hunger to abate after it had been fed. Not so; if possible, he found himself craving her nearness more than before, which might have been troubling if scratching that itch hadn’t also been so pleasant.

A man might get used to having a woman like Narcissa in his bed, and no one would blame him if he did, except perhaps he himself, but that was neither here nor there on a night like this, which promised unspeakable pleasures. Those, no man of sense would refuse, and Lucius considered himself extremely sensible.