A/N: This is a bit shorter than what I usually write, but it took me forever to complete. It was a bit difficult to get the wording just the way I wanted it in some places, but I think it turned out okay in the end. Please enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters! I just really, really like them. A lot. A whole lot. Like, I love them. Really.
Lucius lay down, his back propped up on many of the comfortable pillows that decorated his bed in order to read the Daily Prophet as he hadn't had the time to that morning. Narcissa, resting next to him, would glance at him from time to time, hoping he would soon finish or at least notice that she desired his attention and affections. As her attempts failed, she frowned and sighed audibly, shooting a glare his way. Lucius may not have been the most sensitive man to the whims and fancies of his wife, but he shouldn't have to be told directly when she wanted him, should he? Narcissa asked herself this several times over and always came to the same conclusion that no, he should absolutely not have to be told that his adoring wife needed him. Lucius, however, was far more attentive to the latest updates on the recent failed attempt at a Gringotts Bank robbery and an article concerning the newest gossip surrounding several suspected Death Eaters, authored by a certain Rita Skeeter.
Narcissa had had enough. She would force his attention if she had to, a task that shouldn't be hard for someone as skilled at getting what she desired as she was. She sat up, looked over to be sure he was still caught up in his reading and repositioned herself, lying back down so that her head rested comfortably on Lucius's lap. Awkwardly, he attempted to hold the newspaper with one hand, freeing the other for Narcissa. He lazily brushed his hand across her cheek, trailing upwards until he could run his fingers through her hair.
"Lucius—" she began, about to protest that he needed to at least look at her if he was going to continue to touch her like that.
"Narcissa, are you trying to tempt me by doing this...? I'm a bit preoccupied at the moment, as you can see."
"No, I am not. You're just not giving me enough attention," she said defiantly, and turned to face away from him. A light pink blush found its way to her cheeks despite her best efforts, a bit embarrassed that she had to admit something like that to her husband.
Suddenly, his tender caresses ceased, making Narcissa glance back at him with a look of contempt. He took his time folding the paper, and set it aside on the nightstand near the bed where his wand was often kept in the evenings. "...All right, Cissa. You have my full attention now." 'One would think that after more than five years with me, you would know you need only ask for something and I would make it yours...' This thought he kept to himself for fear of angering her, and began again to twist his hands through her long hair.
"That's much better," she said with a grin, now perfectly content. "Now, I would be even more appreciative if you would continue to do that with your hands, and kiss me while you're at it."
"Are you sure, Cissa? I may get carried away, you know." He smirked, hoping for an invitation to do with her as he pleased.
"Oh, please. You can restrain yourself. Tonight, I... I was just hoping to spend some time alone with you. I don't think there has been enough of that in recent days." It had been much too long as far as Narcissa was concerned, two weeks at the most, since she had truly felt romantically, and not simply sexually, intimate with her husband. She had always been more than accommodating to him and his needs as he was to her, and she saw no reason for him to quit now.
"...I understand," he said, his tone considerably softer. With a gentle, caring smile, he helped her back into a sitting position, her hands held firmly in both of his. It was so easy for him to forget how Narcissa valued the time she spent with him, and how he needed it just as much, if not more so, than she did.
He kissed her lightly, then pulled her close, slowly at first, to be sure that he wasn't crossing a boundary she didn't want him crossing that particular night. At this, Narcissa freed herself from his hands and wrapped her arms around his waist, relaxing against him and leaning her head on his shoulder. Never had she felt safer or more loved than when he held her in his arms.
"My Narcissa..." he whispered as his hands glided over her back.
"Your Narcissa," she affirmed quietly, as if doing so would make it that much more real to her. Hearing her confirm in that sweet, kind voice of hers what both of them already knew was almost too much for Lucius. If it was up to him and had he not been the perfect gentleman that he was, he imagined he would have taken her then and there, despite any objections she may have had.
"...This is all I want now, Lucius. And you're all I need," she murmured as if she were able to read his thoughts.
"I know," he said, "I know because you're all I need."
Neither Malfoy said anything more for quite some time. The two of them both found themselves far too wrapped up in each other to bother with words; their actions already more than enough to illustrate the emotions and feelings they shared. With a deep breath, Lucius placed his hands on her shoulders, gently holding her away from him just slightly so that he could look into her bright blue eyes. Her expression was that of mild surprise that he would cut their embrace short, and Lucius couldn't help but smile when he saw it. He leaned towards her and pressed his lips to her forehead, letting them linger there for much longer than necessary.
Only Narcissa would know the significance of such a simple yet long kiss. It had always been his silent way of telling her he loved her, that he needed her, that even during the times when he didn't get to be with her often, he always thought of her. It wasn't often that he kissed her in such a manner, reserving it only for when he was sure she would need it and appreciate it the most. Times just like these.
A quiet understanding passed between them. Narcissa knew that there was no need for her to say anything in return; there never was when Lucius gave her those prolonged, tender kisses.
They both already knew everything the other could possibly say.