Chapter 26 Loose Morals
Author's Note: This chapter has been abridged to conform to Fanfiction.net's restraints on suggestive material.
The unexpurgated chapter, lemons and all, may be found at www.adultfanfiction.nt/aff/story.php?no=11212
Maura staggered as she was dragged backwards through what felt like a sandstorm. She stood in the cold cell again, shackled to the wall. Lucius Malfoy held her by the hair. His other hand, in its slick black leather glove, touched her cheek. He bent his head towards her until his lips brushed her ear.
"Very clever, very clever indeed. How amusing to watch you 'write' yourself out of captivity, my dear! But it isn't magic, is it? You're a Muggle. You have no access to the magickal world; you can 'write' yourself anywhere in your head, but the rest of you remains where you're put – where I put you. Whatever shall I do with you?" His warm breath tickled her neck, and she shuddered.
Malfoy walked around her, looking her up and down. "I don't suppose you're a virgin, are you?"
A spark of outrage flared in Maura's spirit. "It's none of your business!' she shouted. "I don't suppose you're a virgin either!"
Malfoy snorted with laughter. "Cheek, is it?" He stood so close to her that she could feel his body heat through his black robes. "Child, I'm a man! More than that, I'm a wizard. I celebrate the carnal as well as the intellectual." He looked down at her, and she shivered. His blue eyes shone silver, like a wolf's. "Well, it's little sport if you're not a virgin. Mudbloods! Loose morals, shagging anything and everything, like the animals you are, and – " his voice dropped to a soft, silky purr – "an occasional taste of the forbidden." He looked her up and down, up and down, and Maura's flame ignited into a blaze.
"Get away from me!" she cried. "If you're going to kill me, do it right here and now. I'd rather screw a snake than the likes of you!"
Malfoy smiled at her, that same lopsided smile that had looked so charming on Jack's face – but he wasn't Jack. "Slytherins are serpents, child, but I think you know that. " His voice subsided to an oily murmur. "I would not ask you to do anything that you don't want to do. So –" He put his arm around her shoulders and touched his lips to her forehead. His gloved hand raised her chin. "Your hot Celtic blood will do it for you." His tongue flicked her earlobe, then her lips, and she trembled, inside and outside.
Oh, no, please, God…
"I can let you play – you can imagine yourself back at Hogwarts, for all I care – or I can play with you. Yes – I think it's best. Stupefy."
Maura opened her eyes. She vaguely remembered being carried through rooms, through a low-ceilinged passageway. Rosemary's Baby…they carried Mia Farrow through the linen closet…She couldn't move. No surprise there; the last thing she remembered was Lucius Malfoy putting Stupefy on her.
She was lying on a bed, a comfortable bed. Better than a stone floor, at any rate. There was very little light. She could move her eyes a little, and her peripheral vision showed her that there were drawn curtains all round the bed. She couldn't feel her own hands or feet or anything. She didn't feel cold or hot. How do I know I'm on a comfortable bed? She surely couldn't figure that one out.
If I don't have access to magic, how did I write Sherlock Holmes to Hogwarts? It had to be Hermione…She remembered the strange characters that appeared on her computer screen that night. When she copied them into her notebook, she said something… cripes! Was it a spell? All she could remember was the first word: "Tuatha."
She tried calling out, but her mouth wouldn't work. The curtains parted, and she was aware of firelight. Oh, shit, here's Malfoy again. Her heart sank. He moved within her field of vision. Too bad he's such a monster, she thought. He was the one kissing me on the Astronomy Tower balcony; it was he who made my insides jump. He wore a green silk robe open to his waist, and she could see his white-skinned chest and stomach. Nice pecs, and quite a six-pack, she observed. That hair….that fabulous flaxen hair lay loose on his shoulders, and fell forward as he sat down on the side of the bed and leaned over her.
"Are you comfortable, my dear? Do you like your robe?" Malfoy lifted her hand so that she could see the loose sleeve of the garment she was wearing. It was sheer as smoke. Green, what a surprise. Slytherin all the way. He let her hand drop back onto the bed. Malfoy had even taken off his gloves, she noted with surprise. His hands looked thin and hard, with perfectly manicured nails buffed to a shine. "It would be such a pity if you could not experience my touch," he smirked. He put his hand on her cheek; she could feel it, smooth and light and skillful.
You smug bastard, she thought. I don't want your touch. She was lying to herself; she was consumed with curiosity. Take off that robe, she said silently. I want to see the Pride of Slytherin. Let's see how magnificent you really are.
Malfoy cocked an eyebrow at her. "Oh? Do you really want to see how magnificent I am?" He grinned and moved closer to her. "Ladies first."
Damn. Legilimency. Well, anything you read in my mind, you creep, you deserve to know. Malfoy undid something in the front of her garment. She could see the two sides of it as he parted it and laid it over her arms. Her heart pounded. He looked at her, expressionless. Then, his thin hand touched her shoulder.
"For a Muggle," he said, "you are rather delicate. You don't look a cow, like so many of your sisters. His hair trailed over her skin. Oh, God. I can't help it. I want to touch him.
He raised his head. " Well, indeed!" he remarked. "You may not touch me, my dear – not yet. I'm not done touching you."
Very well, Maura thought. Legilimens this, Lucius: release me and I promise you won't be sorry. I'm told I'm very good.
Malfoy chuckled. "I've had the best and most skillful and most inventive sexual partners in the world, and you think you're good? Hah! You don't know what "good" is. I can just imagine the lot you've spread your legs for."
Try me.
"Oh, I intend to, my dear." She realised that she was able to move her hand slightly.
Not enough. Release the spell.
"And risk your damaging my person?"
Maura hoped her mind wouldn't convey her smirk as she thought; 'Do you want to live forever? She centered a picture of Michelle Pfeiffer as Catwoman, straddling a prone Michael Keaton's Batman, on her mental screen.
"I intend to live forever. I don't intend to do it with your claw marks all over me, little cat."
She let him experience the smirk. Once bitten, twice shy. You'll spoil all the fun.
"Very well, little Mudblood. Let's see if you're really as good as you think you are." The wizard rose and dropped his robe to the floor. "Surprise me," he said.
He lay down on his side, facing her, his left forearm supporting his torso. Firelight licked at his shoulders, gilding the outline of his body and turning his white-blond hair into a nimbus of gossamer. His long face and high cheekbones were barely limned by the light of a single candle on the bedside table. His features were relaxed, his mouth slightly open, his brow smooth. His lips were thin and even and looked cruel.
Slowly, she reached out to him and put her hand on his chest. The skin was smooth as marble and warm. She touched his breast; barely a few hairs there and those, silver-white. Her gaze travelled downward. Just below his navel, an arrow of dark hair began, spreading over his belly and culminating over his pubis in carefully trimmed tight curls. His right hand lay on his hip.
He arched an eyebrow. "Am I not beautiful? I give you this, my body, my presence. Why are you looking at me with that calculating regard, as if I were an experiment spread out before you?"
Maura drew in a deep breath. Sensation flooded her; she could move. She let her eyes travel over Lucius Malfoy's face. His nostrils flared; she could see a pulse pounding in his throat. Oh, he was beautiful, like sculptured white marble, and endowed like Michelangelo's David. I'm crazy. I've lost my mind, but if he kills me, at least I will have had one staggering adventure.
She experimented with her voice; it hadn't come back. Damn. You asked me to surprise you, to make you gasp with passion. I haven't got any magic, you know.
"Of course not, but surely you're capable of something? Or were you merely boasting? Are you a cow after all?"
Maura's mind whirled. Somewhere deep in her brain, away from Malfoy's Legilimens skill, she balanced the desperate need to get away from the Death Eater and back to Hogwarts, and the necessity to keep that need from him. She moved a little closer to Malfoy and looked up at his face. You want to be surprised, very well, then. You know I'm a writer. Ever have sex in your head, Lucius? I don't mean your everyday porn flick fantasies. I mean the earthshaking, otherworldly, alternative-universe, little-death, shag-until-you're senseless screaming and pounding sex that only a writer can create. I've written some really steamy stuff in my time.
His eyes gleamed with interest. "So you think you can do this; you can write an 'earthshaking' encounter in your head, and draw me into it?"
Yes. Legilimens away, Lucius. Maura deliberately blanked her mind and began her old Yoga exercise of visualizing a pebble dropping through the ocean. Down, down, down, through the surface layer, past the floating seaweed and stems of sea grasses, below the movement of the waves, into the cool layers where the fish swim, down, down, down into the lightless depths to the sand of the ocean bottom. Still. Still. Quiet.
Slowly, he bent his head toward her shoulder, inhaling her scent. She smelt like rosemary, pungent and slightly salty. He licked the hollow of her collarbone, tasting the dewy sweat. There was something else; the smell of arousal. She put her hand around the back of his neck, her fingers reaching into his heavy hair. Shivers trickled down his spine. She put her other arm around him, and ran her hand down his back with infinite slowness. He gasped and arched towards her. Her hand travelled downward once more, her palm sliding over his buttocks. Her finger found the slight depression where, uncounted aeons ago, men grew tails, and pressed it. He twisted under her, moaning.
"Don't deny me," he breathed. He put his hands in her hair and drew her head down, and he kissed her as he had never kissed anyone in his long life. She felt herself opening and flowing for him, and she rolled over on her back, taking him with her. His hair fell around them like moonlight.
"Now you are mine," he whispered. A moment later, it was done. He was done.
Maura froze. Not a word, not a thought. He put his arm across her body and his head on her breast. In a moment he was sound asleep.
Son of a bitch. She lay still, with the snoring wizard cuddled up against her. Who would have thought it? Better not to think it. A preemie .I will never write another word of smut again.