The large Victorian mansion was the talk of the town, no matter that it had been around longer than most of Wembley's inhabitants. There wasn't a crack to be seen on the massive stone structure, with its large, gleaming bay windows and delicate ivory creeping along the sides in a picturesque manner.
It was rumoured that inside, marble imported from Italy was inlaid into the flooring, as well as richly coloured mosaics from the far-east. Grand, crystal chandeliers were said to hang from the arching ceilings, the crown moldings were gilt, and the walls were cream papered.
However, all the people of Wembley knew that the true precious valuable within the mansion, the one thing the Lord Evans could not bear to part with, was his daughter, Lily Evans. The gossip of the girl's looks parroted itself thusly: Skin like cream, her form that of a courtesan's, straight, haughty nose, sinfully plump, crimson lips and long, russet curls. But it was her eyes that stood out the most – large almond shaped emerald-coloured eyes veiled with curling, dark lashes.
Understandably, with such beauty came attempts at heavily guarded protection of the girl. Lord Evans, on any given day, could be found at his wits end, pulling at tufts of his powdered wig. Lily had an unbridled, passionate spirit to her, much to her father's chagrin, and enjoyed pulling wild antics that riled him up instantly. Her latest feat had been traipsing off to Mayberry, the neighboring town, in the dead of the night, nary a guard to accompany her. And though she enjoyed pulling off stunts that appeared unsafe, at the very least she did have her society friends flocking along with her.
While the girl aged him by worrying for her constantly, Lord Evans was proud to say that she was a leader. Not that he would every tell her himself, she was much too proud, and he did not want to encourage her fanatical actions.
However, when she'd arrived at Mayberry, which friend had she chosen to visit? The quartermaster's son! The scandal of it all had been enough for his cheeks to burn with shame for hours, but luckily, with the right amount of silver, the matter had been put to rest and all inklings of doubt and impropriety had been hushed.
Needlessly, his daughter's large eyes and teary pleas did not work this time. It had been foolish of her to even think that after the naughty deed she pulled she would escape unscathed. Yet, Lord Evans was much too soft-hearted and weak-willed when it came to his daughter. The punishment had simply been an assignation of more guards to watch her around the hour, the latest additions totaling the amount to a grand sum of thirteen men.
She was upset with him, he knew that. Still, it was for her own good. Before long, it would be time to find an appropriate suitor for Lily, despite the fact that he personally felt as if no man would be decent enough for her. And with that in mind, she could no longer schlep around like nobody's business and expect her father to save her from these situations she'd put herself into and still find a suitable candidate for marriage!
The girl was a hazard to be sure. But the thing Lord Evans did not know was just how much of a danger to herself Lily Evans really was.
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Lily sat at her vanity, back ramrod straight. Her countenance was sullen as she frowned at the mirror, silently urging the maid to brush her hair faster. Despite her impatience, she would never snap at the girl, who appeared to be thirteen, fourteen at most. Her father and mother and nurse maids and tutors had taught her manners, after all. And besides that, she possessed the most infuriatingly thick amount of curls ever.
She voiced this to the maid idly, her slender finger tracing the intricate pattern running along the mirror's edge.
"No, Miss, surely not. Your hair is quite enviable, if I may be so bold to say," the young girl stuttered, blushing.
Lily spared her a fleeting smile, her narcissism assuaged.
She sighed to herself, bored.
Unfortunately, there would be no entertainment for quite some time, seeing as her father had stripped her of her happiness for the time being – and forced three more men upon her already way over-protected person. When she had argued this, her father's reply had been that obviously they weren't doing as good enough a job if they could misplace an eighteen-year old girl thrice in one month.
Father always stroked her ego unknowingly, and she had had no reply to that.
Her punishment, though she would admit this to know one, had been well worth it. Lucius Malfoy was breathtaking, which more than made up for his acerbic wit. Though to Lily, that only added to his lusty appeal.
Her lower belly tingled just at the thought of him. Father thought that she and Lucius were only friends, but really they were friends who... for want of a better word, pleasured, each other. And who could blame her for wanting to sin with such a beautiful man? It wasn't like she had slept in his bed – they evaded that, but there were other, delicious alternatives.
And with her sharpness and his intelligence combined, the passionate possibilities were endless.
Lily dismissed the maid, then latched and bolted the various locks on her door. She slipped out of her gown and let it pool around her onto the plush carpet, and then climbed into her magnificent, downy bed in just her scanty shift. The feel of multitudes of silk and copious amounts of fine linen against her exposed skin was heavenly.
She reclined against the luxurious pillows and spread her fiery tresses behind her.
Reaching under the bed, she groped around for a special jar Lucius had given her for her birthday last year. He had travelled to Egypt with his father, and brought back wonderful gifts for her. This jar, he had said naughtily, contained sweet, scented oil meant for lubricating special places.
She unscrewed the lid and the delicate scent of cherries and almonds wafted out. Dipping two fingers in, she scooped out a generous amount, before placing the jar onto the polished table beside her bed. Spreading her legs wide, she laid her head back, closing her eyes contentedly. With one hand, she spread her drenched lips, and with the other one, leisurely massaged her womanly parts, moaning softly to herself.
After languorously bringing herself to ecstasy twice, she decided to fantasize about a certain Nordic god. And also, from studying ancient Greek culture, she had come to the surprising discovery that Lucius bore a strong resemblance to Adonis as well.
When she'd arrived at Mayberry, he had shown her such a good time. She remembered the excitement in his eyes as he had unwrapped her – under her two cloaks had been her gown, then a linen dress, then two silk shifts, and finally her corset.
She'd worn her stylish, black lace underclothing. When he had laid eyes upon her in just her corset and silken panties, Lucius had been panting with lust. Slipping his strong arms around her, he had thrust his hot, heavy tongue into her mouth, causing both to groan loudly. After exchanging fevered, wet kisses, she had then aided him in removing every stitch of clothing he had on, and they both slid into his bed. There, Lucius had ground himself repeatedly against her panties, between her silken thighs.
And though it had not been exactly how they both wanted it, it had been enough.
Afterward, they both dressed, and he had escorted her by carriage back to Wembley. It had been a pleasurable ride, as they had traded lingering kisses and shared sugary dates and wine. Not to mention the conversation was excellent, seeing as they both shared an avid interest in sport and politics and history.
Even so, they both felt that friends was all that was meant for them to be, lusty attraction aside.
And with these thoughts swirling about, Lily pulled the feathery duvet up to her chin and went to sleep.
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Inspired by Pirates of the Caribbean. Disclaimer: I own nothing – nothing out of HP, and nothing out of POC