Small Beginnings Chapter 3
Lucius seemed more chipper through the rest of the reception. He held the arm of Narcissa wherever they went and often rested his hand on the small of her back.
Richard Arlington and Byron Malfoy observed the reception from two leather covered chairs located on a second floor balcony.
“It’s nice to see the children are getting along do well,” Richard remarked to Byron as he passed the elder Malfoy a pouch of tobacco.
Byron reached in and packed some of the finely shredded tobacco in a black ironwood pipe. He lit it and puffed out a cloud of pink smoke. He nodded in approval and took another puff. This cloud came out green and had a different flavor all together.
“Wherever did you find this?” Byron asked Richard, eyes wide.
“Grew and enchanted it myself,” Richard said proudly. “It’s several types ground up together, enchanted so only one type burns at a time. Ingenious if I do say so myself.”
“Mmmmm,” Byron hummed as he puffed thoughtfully. “I do hope your daughter can make something of that worthless son of mine.”
“You’re too hard on him, you know,” Richard said quietly. “He’s a fine boy. A tad bit overenthusiastic, but he’s young and ambitious. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“It’s the company he’s been keeping,” said Byron. “Acting very dodgy about his whereabouts.”
“Oh, come now,” Richard said dismissively. “He’s a young man. Let him spread his wings, he’ll do fine, just look at him!”
Byron looked over the banister at his son and his wife. They seemed to be engaged in conversation with an influential member of the Lumerian Ministry. The Ministry member was smiling and holding the hand of Lucius, shaking it enthusiastically.
“She’ll be a feather in his cap,” Byron said turning back to Richard. “I hope they produce an heir soon.”
“I don’t think we have to worry about that in the least,” Richard said, eyes twinkling.
Finally, all eleven courses of the meal were done and the last waltz had been danced. Some long distance guests and family members dwindled in the hall, but the majority of the guests had gone.
Richard Arlington walked up to Lucius, sitting in a chair beside Narcissa, animatedly discussing last weeks Quidditch match. He rolled his eyes. Typical. He cleared his throat.
Lucius jumped up and knocked over a half full glass of champagne sitting on a short table nearby. Narcissa giggled. How much had these kids had to drink? Richard shook his head amusedly.
“I think it may be getting late and little ones need to be scooting off to bed,” he said smiling at Lucius.
“Yes, sir,” said Lucius, a
slight pink staining his pale white skin. He looked over to his father,
standing on the opposite side of the room, talking to a Count from
Narcissa rose and took Lucius by the arm. She smiled slightly at her father.
“Thank you, Father,” she said courteously. “It is getting late.”
Lucius patted her hand, slightly shaking slightly on his arm and gave a short bow to her father.
“I promise to always honor her, sir,” Lucius said to Byron.
“I’ll be sure to hear the explosion if you don’t,” said Byron smiling. He leaned over to kiss his daughters cheek.
“You be nice to this boy,” Richard said, looking down at his daughter.
“Yes, Father,” she said, blue eyes lowered obediently.
Lucius and Narcissa climbed the stairs to his chambers. He stopped in front of wide double oak doors elaborately carved with different types of snakes. The wood was magically inlaid so the snakes almost seemed to writhe in the flickering torchlight.
Lucius looked at Narcissa and pulled one of the doors open. His personal apartments were spacious. The high vaulted ceiling glowed softly, making the room appear to be filled with moonlight. As Narcissa entered the large room she felt her shoes sink into deep carpet. In the center of the room was a dining table and chairs to sit ten. Presently, it was piled high with documents from the Ministry of Magic. She smiled slightly and quirked one eyebrow.
"I apologize for the disarray," Lucius said. "It's busy time at the Ministry and I was forced to bring my work home with me. I hope it won't have to happen often in the future."
"It will," Narcissa said. "Don't worry about it. You should see what my fathers study looks like."
She turned to face him and looked him up and down.
"What?" Lucius asked.
"Nothing," Narcissa said and leaned over to kiss his cheek.
He pulled her to him. He was married. The champagne was making his head spin. Narcissa was lovely. She researched his past, apparently through Slytherin she knew who had known him when he was at school.
She had been told of their engagement during her second year. Her father thought it best before she decided to engage in any romantic entanglements. Of course, she did anyway, but that had ended messily a year earlier. As far as Lucius could tell, she was unsullied.
She was a pretty enough girl, and she understood the art of Quidditch, rather than just the sport. He smiled and gathered her in his arms. He buried his nose in her hair. She smelled nice, slightly of sugar.
He felt her arms go around him and settle above his waist.
"I hope I please you, Lucius," Narcissa said softly.
He pulled away from her and gazed down at her face. Narcissa was such a pale white that she seemed luminescent in the moonlight. Her eyes practically looked like crystal.
"You," he said, voice cracking. Damn, why did it have to do that now? He cleared his throat.
"You," he began again. Much better. "Are lovely. I couldn’t imagine you doing anything but pleasing me, no matter what your father says.
He began to kiss her cheeks. They grew warmer under his touch, and her breathing quickened. He looked over his shoulder at the door to his sleeping quarters. Her gaze followed his.
"Perhaps we should go somewhere more appropriate," Narcissa said.
Suddenly pain gripped his left forearm. He dropped Narcissa's embrace and wrapped his hand around it. The Dark Mark burned.
Tonight? Tonight, of all nights? How was he going to do this? Modify her memory? Knock her out? Lucius felt disgusted with himself. Perhaps he could rig an owl to come to him and say it was urgent ministry business. He could say he was going to the bathroom and make a break for the owlry. Suddenly he realized how strange he might look to Narcissa, gripping his arm. Lucius looked up sharply.
It seemed she was preoccupied. She was gripping her left forearm as well, biting her lip and squeezing her eyes shut. It seemed she had not even noticed him.
Lucius walked over to Narcissa and yanked her arm free from her own grasp. She looked up at him fearfully. He yanked at the lacings around her wrist and unbound them. She tried to pull her arm away, but he pulled it closer to him and yanked her sleeve up.
The sign of the Dark Lord burned deep in her milky white skin. His eyes flew up to meet hers. They pleaded at him. She was unarmed, her wand packed away in her things. He smiled evilly at her. He pulled on her arm and pulled her roughly up against him. His hands cupped her rear end and he ground himself up against her.
When she gasped his mouth covered hers, his fingers fumbled at her robe clasps.
"His Lordship can wait but a few moments," Lucius mumbled into her mouth. "And you have to disrobe anyway."
She looked slightly fearful, lips mingling with his. Her hands went to his clasps and began to unbuckle.
Her robes slid to the floor as she still worked on his cuff laces. As his robes slid to the floor, she looked at, then traced her fingers lightly over the mark that burned into his skin. She looked him up and down approvingly. He felt his cheeks turn pink once again and fought back the urge to cover himself up.
She was perfect. Narcissas breasts curved gently away from her. Her waist was small, and her legs strong and well shaped.
She reached over a moonlight drenched hand and gripped his erection. He groaned and reached for the table.
“This would look bad under your robes, don’t you think?” Narcissa asked, pushing him back, against the table.
“Probably,” he said, eyes closed. He felt the table behind him and leaned into it.
Narcissa sunk to her knees and began running her tongue up and down his shaft.
“Dear, God,” he whispered, throwing his head back.
She flicked her tongue over his head before swallowing him whole. He reached down and eased her mouth over him. He looked down and met her gaze, obviously riveted on him the whole time. She smiled around him and nibbled with his teeth. He closed his eyes.
He wanted to yank out of her, to throw her to the carpet, yank her legs apart and slam into her. He wanted her, pushed up against the wall, one leg wrapped around his waist. He wanted her on all fours, face in the carpet, with his hands on her hips, drilling into her further. He wanted to drip oil down her back, push gently and make her scream his name. He wanted to explode down her throat.
He was getting dangerously close to that idea.
“Narcissa,” he said, his voice sounding stressed. She moved more rapidly. He had hardly expected that. She began to hum.
His pelvis thrust forward as he exploded in her mouth. He watched her expression. She closed her eyes and drank him. Her mouth gently sucked him dry and she lapped him gently with her tongue as he tried to stay upright.
"We need to go," she said gently. "Where are my things?"
"Come on." he urged, taking her hand and leading to the bedroom. The room was lit with candles and a cheery fire burned in his bedroom. A large four poster bed sat in the middle of it, dark green velvet drapes were drawn and soft white sheets were pulled back, invitingly.
To her surprise, Lucius walked over to closet and opened a door. Her belongings were neatly stacked inside. He went over to the bed and pulled a small trunk out from underneath. She walked over to her things and pulled a small bundle of keys out of the smallest bag. Narcissa selected a small black key and undid the lock of one of her bags. She emptied out a large selection of underthings and pushed gently on the bottom of the trunk, mumbling an incantation.
"Clever," Lucius remarked, his eyes wide at the large assortment of lacy things on his floor.
She lifted a white mask from her trunk and set it on the floor beside her. She then pulled a black robe out and shook it. She followed his gaze to the pile of lacy elastic on the floor.
"They were gifts from the women in my family," she explained shrugging the black robe over her shoulders. "I don't even know how to put half of it on."
"Perhaps we can try later," Lucius said as he pulled his robe over his head.
"Perhaps you can try later," he heard her say as she snorted derisively.
He latched the small silver buttons on his robe in place, and glanced at the bed. A thin black box lay on the bed.
"Do you know what that is?" Lucius asked Narcissa, nodding at the bed.
"No, not a clue," Narcissa said, eyebrows raised.
He reached out and flipped the box open.
“Oh, dear God, mother!” Lucius exclaimed as he examined the contents of the box.
“I like your Mother,” he heard as a muffled voice floated out of a jumble of robes. He grinned softly. He grabbed both arms of her robes and wrapped them around her.
“Trapped!” he cried. He threw her onto the bed. Her head popped out of the top of the robes.
“Lucius!” she cried, head still spinning slightly from the champagne, still tasting him, still unsatisfied yearning from him.
“You wanted to know what was in the box,” Lucius reminded her.
She heard a soft buzzing and then a jolt between her legs. She jumped.
“Not so fast,” he pulled her slender form closer to him.
Narcissa felt him parting her legs and the vibrating continued. He had positioned himself between her legs and she felt her knees gently resting on his waist.
He lowered his mouth to her and began gently sucking. Her legs fought him, but he pinned them under his arms. He straightened up and massaged her externally with the buzzing object. She squeezed him and screamed his name. She was screaming in frustration, he knew.
“I want to fuck you,” he said calmly.
She hesitated slightly and looked up at him.
She was on fire, completely bound above the waist and her new husband was looking at her coolly. She looked down and saw his erection bobbing slightly in front of him. He worked a finger into her. His thumb swirled around her clit. He felt her clamp down on him. A tight fit, indeed. He wanted to tear into her, plunge in over and over, feeling her sticky blood drenching him.
Alternately, he liked her. Would probably learn to love her, as his father said he would. Certainly felt something looking down at her now. She squeezed him again. He pulled his finger out of her and nudged his erection forward. His thumb stayed swirling on her. Every time she throbbed he nudged a little further. Finally he was where he wanted to be. He began thrusting shallowly and edged his other hand over her derričre. It was still vibrating.
She looked at him nervously.
“Do you trust me?” he asked lowering his gaze at her.
“Don’t think I have much choice in this position,” she said.
“Then relax,” he thrusted a little too violently and she closed her eyes. Yes, this was better. She didn’t have to look at him. It did feel good. The buzzing under her finally found a resting place and pressed firmly. Narcissa thrust up to Lucius.
“Don’t worry,” she heard him say. “I’m not going to take this any further.”
He swirled his thumb in the opposite direction of the pulsing object under her. Not to mention the throbbing object in her. It was more than she could take.
He felt her squeeze him so tightly it almost hurt. By the way she screamed his name he surmised she had reached her climax.
He tore her robes over her head and threw them to the floor. Still inside her, he scooted her fully onto his bed and began to pound into her. He reached down and grabbed a breast. He arched his back and began to gnaw not so gently.
“Lucius!” she cried out.
He looked up her and saw her wide blue eyes looking at him. He froze. He felt himself throb in her. He closed his eyes and tried to count calmly to 10.
“Lucius?” he heard her ask.
“Yes,” he managed to grind out between clenched teeth.
“Can you do that harder?” she asked quietly.
Lucius put a nipple between his teeth and began to move softly, swirling himself inside Narcissa. She sighed softly. He bent down and took a nipple between his soft lips. He nibbled at it with his teeth and he felt her arch her back up to meet him. Her hard nipple was so helpless inside his mouth. He bit down firmly and thrusted violently.
Her nails dug trenches in his shoulders and her legs wrapped around his waist.
“Harder!” she ordered. What had his father gotten him into? She was going to kill him. He ground into her roughly and felt her spasm again.
She grabbed his shoulders and slammed him to the mattress. Her mouth worried his nipples, he noticed considerably more gently than he had treated hers. He sighed as she battered herself against him. He lay back and closed his eyes.
Oh yes, absolutely enchanting. She moaned loudly. He reached up and pulled her close to him, her head lay on his chest as her hips moved. He shuddered as he spilled into her.
She collapsed and lay quietly on his heaving chest, listening to his heartbeat regain a regular pattern.
They heard someone clear their throat.
Narcissa jumped off Lucius completely, feeling him exit her quickly. She grabbed her robe and quickly threw it around herself.
“My, my,” Lucius heard a familiar icy voice say. “So coy, Narcissa? Not very much like you, if your actions in the last half hour have anything to say about it.”
“Master!” Lucius bleated out and went down on his knees, crawling to the fireplace where the image of Voldemorts face danced among the flames.
“I was going to excuse the presence of your lovely bride and yourself from tonight’s gathering,” Voldemort said smoothly, his eyes giving Narcissa an approving gaze. “But it seems you were prepared to come to my side, albeit slightly tardy.”
Narcissa rose, removing the robe from her form. She pulled them over her head properly and began to fasten her buckles.
“We will be there momentarily, my Lord,” Narcissa said quickly. “I apologize for our behavior.”
“There’s nothing to apologize for,” Voldemort said, his eyes raking over her. “You are excused. Enjoy your honeymoon. You do make a handsome couple.”
“Thank you, my Lord,” said Lucius, kneeling on the floor near the fire, his hands covering his privates.
“Do try not to be entangled next Thursday,” Voldemort said, his eyes resting on Lucius. You may be needed.
“Yes, my Lord.” Lucius said.
Voldemort’s gaze went back to Narcissa.
“You took you robes with you on your honeymoon?” he inquired.
“You told us to always be prepared, my Lord,” she replied.
His gaze went back to Lucius.
“She is loyal,” Voldemort said to Lucius. “I would do you well to take notice.”
Lucius pinkened slightly. He wasn’t going to screw this up.