A/N — Oops, I did it again! So the final chapter turned out to be around 20k words, so I decided to split it again. Fear not, however, for I have finished both and will post both chapters, thus finishing the story!
Unfortunately for fans waiting for the "alternate ending" story that isn't quite close to being finished. I wanted to post it along with the finale of this story but because this one was so long and because of other things it isn't in a publishable state yet. However, given that I am publishing two chapters and over twenty thousand words I think this is adequate compensation.
As a hint, the alternate ending features Harry/Astoria/Narcissa/Ginny. There are hints about its plot in this chapter and also chapter 3.
Chapter VI: Getting Ginny Back
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Harry could scarcely believe it was only eleven days since Malfoy had first taken his wife so openly in front of him. Eleven days ago — on his own birthday, no less! — he had walked in from a night of sad drinking with Hermione and Ron to find a naked Ginny sucking off his rival right in his living room. To say it was a shock was putting it lightly! Harry knew his entire brain had shut down upon seeing his wife's red head bobbing erotically up and down in his rival's lap. What was a man supposed to think upon seeing something like that? Get angry, Harry supposed, but he had already been so angry. He had had time to get to know that anger; what he hadn't had time to get to know was actually seeing Ginny and Malfoy together.
He hadn't even entirely registered what had happened when Malfoy had brazenly taken his naked wife up to his own freaking bedroom. He hadn't registered when Hermione had begun grabbing at him or when she had started ranting. In fact, he hadn't truly registered he whole set of events until he had begun to hear the master bed knocking and squeaking as Malfoy got to work on Ginny. Hermione had been shocked and then outraged that the two would dare be so bold, but she hadn't had a clue what to do. Harry had merely stood staring up at the roof as he, for the first time, listened to his wife make love to another man. That night he had gone to sleep in one of the spare rooms listening to his wife and her lover together, and had had a very troubled sleep.
When he had awoken, he had realized what had troubled him so much. It wasn't that Ginny was cheating on him, that Malfoy had fulfilled his forgotten promise of so many years before, not even that the Ministry had once again screwed him over with what was perhaps the worst possible insult by turning his wife into his enemy's sex slave or that Ginny enjoyed it, nor even that he had had to see his wife pleasuring his rival in his own living room on his birthday. Those did bother him, of course, but they had been bothering him for months. Well, the last one hadn't, but it made him feel too shocked for there to be any room for being bothered about it yet. No, none of that was bothering him, which was perhaps what bothered him the most. The truth that he hadn't dared admit to himself was that listening to Ginny making love had awoken something within him. He hadn't had sex in months — hadn't even really looked at a woman, besides occasionally Ginny when she tried to tempt him into accepting her concubinage — and he now realized how desperately he missed it. There was a burning desire within Harry to fuck his wife, and it was a startling realization for Harry to find that he was starting to care more about getting Ginny back into his bed than getting her faithful to him again.
That realization was only compounded when Harry had run into his wife in their kitchen. Ginny was as beautiful as ever after lovemaking — her hair mussed, her skin slightly flushed, a limp in her walk — and it was only enhanced by the tiny silk robe that clung around her. More than once Harry had found himself staring down at his wife's bond-magic-improved cleavage, and the moment had only been broken when Malfoy had emerged and begun harassing her. Even then Harry hadn't quite been able to look away, and the sight of Ginny being undressed and prepared for sex had, no doubt, thoroughly aroused him. The sound of her actually having sex — in the shower, as Malfoy prepared to leave — had almost pushed him over the edge, and he had disappeared into a bathroom to rub one off while imagining the naked body he had seen the night before and this morning. Conveniently, he had also missed Malfoy leaving the house.
All that led him to today. Ginny's birthday. His own birthday had set something of a pattern, and now Ginny hardly ever left the house to see her lover. Instead, Malfoy came over and had Ginny however and wherever he wanted, whether or not Harry was there. If he was he would quickly leave, but that didn't stop him getting glimpses and glances of exactly how unfaithful Ginny was being. Nor did it stop him hearing exactly how much fun she and Malfoy had together. Such was the case now, where Harry found himself sitting at his breakfast table on the mid-morning after Ginny's birthday holding a letter, listening to Malfoy and Ginny's continuing 'celebration' above him. He had been asleep when they had returned to the house the previous night and had woken up in the spare bedroom, which could mean only one thing. Sure enough, partway through when Harry had started cooking himself breakfast he had heard the distinct sounds of sex in the master bedroom.
He was beginning to learn to ignore it, but what he didn't ignore was when Malfoy's owl had unexpectedly alighted on the windowsill bearing a letter. Interrupting the drinking of his tea while bacon sizzled on the stove, he walked over to the owl to grab the letter and rewarded with the owl practically attacking him with a wing as it tried to hurry away as fast as possible. Sending a parting but silent glare the owl's way as it disappeared into the summer's blue sky, Harry sighed and turned his eyes to the letter. If he hadn't recognized Malfoy's owl, he would have recognized the neat writing across the front of the letter.
Absently, Harry Potter turned over the letter in his hands as he pondered what it could mean. Above him, he could hear the thumping and squeaking of the bed that meant his wife and Malfoy were going at it furiously, and emotions warred within him. As he glanced at the letter that Malfoy's owl had inexplicably delivered, he wondered what more the man could possibly do. Was it not enough that Malfoy had made Ginny want him as her lover more than her own husband? What could this letter be other than some new, horrid scheme?
Harry sighed. He was so tired of it all. He just wanted Ginny back. Even if he had to share her with Malfoy, he couldn't stand being so bitter and alone anymore. Still, that didn't mean he had to give into his rival's trap to make him even more miserable. For a second he pondered opening the letter and subjecting himself to its contents, but what was the point? Undoubtedly it was some new injustice, some new way for his rival to torment him. A concubine contract for any daughters he might have, perhaps? Or maybe it was an agreement that his heir's wife would also become the concubine of a Lord Malfoy. Or, Harry thought bitterly, perhaps it was a demand from Malfoy to get himself castrated. If it was he wouldn't be surprised.
No, he decided. He didn't have to play the game. He was going to bite the bullet and get his wife back however he could, and that started now. He had already planned out how to get Ginny back, and now was the time to start. With a negligent flick he deposited the letter into the fireplace, watching absently as the flames curled around Malfoy's latest taunt. He finished his tea in silence and took the bacon off the stove, but found himself unable to eat it. For some reason his appetite had vanished.
It was another few minutes before he realized the thumping from the master bedroom had abated — or at least toned down to the point he couldn't hear it — and he set the tea down, intending to put his plan into action. His heart was racing and he felt panicky and nervous, but he swallowed it. Hands trembling, he clenched them into fists as he made his way up to the master bedroom, and hesitated before knocking and opening the door.
In hindsight it probably hadn't been such a good idea to go straight in, but since when was he accustomed to hesitating to enter his own bedroom? Back when she had still been faithful even Ginny being naked at the time hadn't been an issue. Usually it was an invitation to enjoy each other some more. This experience was similar, but not in good ways. Harry's wife was indeed naked, but it was far from a sight he was pleased to see.
In the center of his bed lay a naked Draco Malfoy, Ginny Potter draped over him making it evident that they had been trading soft kisses. The redhead's delicious curves were pressed into the other man, while her delicate hand was working over Malfoy's semi-erect manhood, slowly stroking it as though to get it hard again. Upon Harry's opening of the door, however, Ginny squeaked and jumped, releasing her master so she could pull up the bedsheets to cover her nude body (and her master's) from her husband's gaze. "Harry!" she exclaimed in shock.
"If you were trying to catch her orgasming on my cock you just missed it," a thoroughly satisfied Malfoy said from Harry's bed. Harry glared at him, but otherwise didn't rise to the bait.
"I'd like to speak to my wife in private, if you don't mind."
"Right now?" Ginny asked, tone almost bordering on juvenile.
"Yes," Harry replied tersely. Wife and lover shared a look before Ginny extracted herself from the bed and walked her naked body over to her husband, silently obeying his gesture to follow him into the hallway. As soon as they were past the door, Harry shut it from his rival's prying eyes and turned to his wife, who was standing with her arms folded over her chest to shield her naked bosom from his view. His heart fell. It was then that he noticed something else different about her. "You cut your hair!" he exclaimed in surprise, as he noticed that his wife's red locks now barely brushed her shoulders.
"I did," Ginny said. "Part of my birthday present from my master. He said he always thought I'd look sexier with it, and as his loyal concubine it was my duty to indulge him. Besides, he said that short hair suited promiscuous women, and he's not wrong."
"That sounds more like a present for him than for you," Harry remarked, not without an edge.
Ginny shrugged. "It's all one and the same, really." They stood in silence for a moment, Harry trying to figure out what to say to his wife, before Ginny began shifting slightly on her feet. A glance down made Harry aware that his rival's semen was slowly leaking down the inside of his wife's thighs. "Look, Harry, what did you want, really? I'm a little busy and I don't want to stand around naked for you to gawp at."
Harry sighed. "Our anniversary is coming up," he said, and was pleased to see Ginny stop moving on her feet as her face gained a look of surprise. "I was thinking that we could do something special… Get away for a weekend, maybe a week and go on vacation just the two of us? Everything's been so hectic and stressful and… well… I miss my wife. What do you think?"
Ginny shifted uncomfortably, her new short locks swinging from side to side, and she bit her lip. "I'll think about it, okay?" she finally said, and Harry narrowed his eyes.
"Promise you won't tell Malfoy," he demanded of her.
"I promise I won't tell Malfoy your plan," Ginny replied, rolling her eyes. Harry still wasn't feeling very convinced, but Ginny reached out to squeeze his hand and he gave her a small smile, which she halfheartedly returned. "Was that all?" she asked, and for a second Harry considered asking her if she knew anything about the letter. Then he decided that it didn't matter; it was burned and gone and he would never know what taunt of Malfoy's it had contained. He shook his head. Nodding, Ginny turned and opened the door to the master bedroom, walking inside it eagerly. Harry had just enough time to see his naked wife climb onto the bed and begin snogging her master while he maneuvered himself to push inside her before the door swung closed. He quashed the flare of jealousy and became busy with something else just before he began hearing his wife's moans.
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Her master filled her again, and Ginny felt the sharp edge of the hard, oaken tabletop bite into her thighs. The cry that came from her mouth was a mixture of pleasure and pain as her master ravaged her on his desk. The nubile, redheaded concubine currently found herself pressed stomach down in front of her master in the Ministry where she had gone to satisfy his midmorning problem. Her blouse was pulled down low so that her naked breasts were pressed hard down into the clutter of his desk, an uncomfortable experience that only seemed to stimulate her. Her skirt had ridden up over her shapely rear so that Malfoy could squeeze her hips and gain access to her dripping slit, which he was currently helping himself to liberally as he repeatedly slammed his whole length inside his concubine. Ginny was more than wet enough to make the experience a pleasurable one, and she quivered and cried as her wrists were pinned down uselessly to the desk and her naked hips were spread far apart, unable to be closed and deny her master the pussy he had claimed. Not that she wanted to, of course, no matter how awkward the position was.
What really aroused Ginny, however, was not the unusual position — she had never had sex on a cluttered desk before, let alone a cluttered desk in the Ministry — nor was it the minor amount of play Malfoy had indulged in where he had really played up the master-and-concubine aspect of their relationship as well as his own lordly status. What really had her aroused was the fact that most everyone knew she was here servicing her master. Her walk through the Ministry to Malfoy's office had been prominent, but not nearly so prominent as her outfit had made her… concubinal assets. She had gotten many an eyeful as she made her way to her master, but she had long been used to appreciative stares her way ever since she had hit puberty. The thrilling part now was that everyone knew she was married, knew who she was married to, and knew who she was not going to see. They could see who she was prepared for and knew who she was going to spend time with. The smirks of Malfoys friends and allies had sent an intoxicating mix of guilt, self-hatred, and arousal flooding through her system. The sheer taboo of it made her heady.
It was the first real public thing she had done as Malfoy's concubine. Oh, he had taken her on dates — obvious dates, prominent dates — and he had shown her off as his concubine to other prominent members of society; he had even taken her out and about to common places like Diagon Alley on his arm. It wasn't the same though. All of it was to show her off; to make everyone aware of his conquest. Most of them were quick affairs before Ginny was spirited away to her master's bed. It was them publicly advertising their sexual relationship; Ginny was a concubine of House Malfoy when she was with Lord Malfoy. When she was alone she was back to being Mrs. Potter, or just Ginny Potter. Walking through the Ministry dressed for her master was the first time she had been Lady Potter, Malfoy Concubine without being on her master's arm. She was her master's concubine out and about without anyone else — no longer Mrs. Potter. It left a warm, lustful feeling in her stomach (and her loins, if she was honest).
So here she was, attending to her master's needs in his own Ministry office, offering up her body for his pleasure. An offer he was eagerly taking, she noted with satisfaction as her master's length slid home to her womb again as his hips violently hit hers hard enough to ignite a flare of pain in the abused lips of her womanhood. He was taking her more thoroughly today, Ginny was painfully aware. He was fucking her as though it would be the last time he would. She cried out erotically as he filled her again, and for a moment tried to grind her hips to enhance their sex, but found that she was pressed so thoroughly between the blond wizard ravishing her and the desk that she couldn't so much as jerk. Her master's hand was pressed down on her lower back so hard that her pelvis was pressed flat against the polished wood underneath her. It was so hard she was starting to think she might get burns from the friction of the strip above her pussy against the table she was being mounted on.
Ginny could tell Malfoy was growing close, and so she upped the erotic mewling she was making. It seemed to do the trick, for soon her adulterous womb was being filled with her master's hot seed. Malfoy slowly humped her to pump the last of his semen into his redheaded concubine, removing his hands from her so that she could push herself off the table and be pulled into his embrace, allowing him to cup her naked chest and kiss her neck. With only a nibble to her earlobe in between, Malfoy soon caught his concubine's lips and kissed her softly. Ginny appreciated the romantic gesture and hummed happily, returning her master's affections. There was still a flare of guilt at sharing such tender moments with someone besides Harry, but ever since she had burned through her 'rage sex' (as she referred to the incidents in her mind) over several long nights with her master and assumed a more dominant roll in their sexual relationship she had become more willing to accept her circumstances for what they were, as she kept urging her husband to. She needed to let go of notions of cheating on Harry and accept the pleasure she had available, accept that she was now the woman of two men (or more like one and a half, at the moment).
It was only when her master withdrew himself from her that Ginny realized that she hadn't yet come, so eager was she to have her master satisfied, and she made a noise of distress that had him chuckling. For a second the redheaded concubine thought Malfoy would sink back in and claim her to orgasm, but a moment passed and her womanhood remained achingly free of her master's cock. Ginny bucked against him, rubbing her wet slit all over her master's cock, pelvis, and stomach, but Malfoy did not indulge her. Ginny just hoped that she wouldn't be left sexually unsatisfied and sent on her way with a womanhood half to orgasm, flushed and ravished but not complete. Her hopes weren't high, however.
She was about to beg her master, but Malfoy beat her to the punch and began talking instead. "I've been debating how to tell you, but I suppose you ought to just hear it bluntly," he began. Malfoy paused for a second, taking the time to squeeze her breast and snake his dextrous fingers down to her clit, making Ginny wriggle desperately. "I'm engaged," he said finally, and Ginny stopped wriggling. "I'm getting married… to Astoria Greengrass."
Ginny knew her. She was a beautiful witch. Rose golden hair so contrasted from her sister's dark auburn while sparkling blue-green eyes looked so much more lovely than Ginny's at-best hazel, she was in every way a pureblood princess to Ginny's pureblood peasant. She had a body to die for, one that had even caused Ginny herself to have a few fantasies the few times she had glimpsed it in the prefect's bathroom at Hogwarts. Whereas Ginny was overly tall for a woman and much too thin (though it helped for her seeker position), Astoria was well proportioned; about five foot nine, her every curve seemed to be sculpted for maximum femininity… and that had been while she was at Hogwarts. Ginny could only imagine what the woman looked like now that she was in her sexual prime. Ginny felt a flare of jealousy, and she tried to quickly quash it, but her master seemed to have seen. He delivered a hard smack to her thigh that left it stinging and Ginny cried out.
"You are my concubine. I am not your anything. I have sexual rights to you just as your husband does, but unlike your husband you do not have claim to me. My wife is the only woman who will have even a modicum of sexual rights to me, not you." He slapped her again. "Do you understand? You have no cause for jealousy of Astoria because I was never yours. In fact, once we are married you are almost as much Astoria's woman as you are mine. You are a Concubine of the House of Malfoy, and she will be Lady Malfoy." The thought that she might get to sleep with Astoria almost quelled Ginny's anger and envy, but not quite.
"But you're my master!" she cried out brashly. "You're meant to fuck me and only me!"
For a second she thought her master was going to slap her again and she merely looked back at him defiantly, but Malfoy merely chuckled. "The slut cheating on her husband and trying to fuck two men wants me to be faithful to her? You're a concubine, my concubine. I still don't think you're getting that." Ginny turned around in his arms so that she could face him fully and made to slap him for his comments, but the move was telegraphed like nothing else and the blond easily caught his concubine's hand. "I see why Potter married you. You're sexy when you're feisty. Turning you into a little submissive slut in the bed is almost as erotic as stealing you from Potter." At this he pushed Ginny down onto her back and spread her legs, his manhood already stiffening again, and his concubine made to resist, trying to close her legs and thrashing under him. The redheaded concubine's resistance only seemed to arouse her master, however, because soon he was pushing his stiff rod into her still-wet folds as she tried desperately to dislodge him.
"No! No, stop! Stop, you bastard! You don't get to fuck me after that! You don't get to fuck me! You don't––– Oh! Oh Draco! No! Stop!"
Her master violently claimed her lips to shut her up, savaging her until she was too breathless to cry out. "I decide when we fuck. I took you from your husband so that I could fuck you whenever I wanted, not just when little, slutty Ginny Potter decides she wants her lover instead of her husband. We fuck when I say we do; when I want that hot, tight, married pussy of yours. We fuck whether you're in love with your husband or whether you hate him; we fuck whether you're salivating over my cock or whether you find me repulsive. We fuck whether I'm committed to just my concubine — a laugh, by the way — or whether I'm engaged to be married." His hips were already pressed against hers and his length was fully inside her by the time Malfoy finished his short speech, and Ginny for a few moments could do nothing but moan as she was violated.
When she finally had her breath back, however, she replied. "I didn't break my marriage bond to be your concubine so you could get shacked up with some… with some… some… slut! Okay? Got it?" For a second the most profound shock registered across Malfoy's face, and Ginny almost didn't notice it as she went on. "I broke my fidelity to Harry so we could be lovers, not so that you could leave me as nothing but a cheating whore!" Finally, the redheaded concubine noticed her master's expression, and her own turned surprised. Then she turned mocking. "Oh, that surprises you? That the Great Draco Malfoy can't just go and fuck Harry Potter's wife because he wants to? The only reason your concubine bond," she sneered at the phrase, "prevailed was because I wanted it to. My marriage to Harry was so strong that I could have slept with you once and been faithful to Harry for the rest of my life. I'm the only reason that I'm your concubine; the only reason that you can be right here fucking the sexy young wife of a powerful wizard while he mopes about it. We fuck because 'little, slutty Ginny Potter' decided you were a sexy wizard that could spice up her marriage and sex life, not because you're some godly wizard that can just fuck his rival's wife on a whim."
Ginny was panting by the end of this, watching as her master just stared at her incredulously. Finally, he seemed to gather his wits, for he began slowly fucking her again, more on autopilot than anything else. "You were stupid," he finally said. "If you wanted what you said you did you should have tricked Potter into signing you away as my consort. Then you would have had sexual rights to me. I would have helped you to cheat on Potter if I'd known you wanted to. It would have been easy; I doubt he would have known what he signed until I claimed you in front of him."
Ginny blushed, her anger abating somewhat. "It's not like that. I always intended to be faithful to Harry, but when you decided you wanted me as a concubine I decided to go with it."
They descended into silence, the only sounds being grunts and moans as they enjoyed each other, before Malfoy spoke again. "I was always going to get married. You're Potter's wife; any children you have are legally his, never mine. Not unless you married me, a second husband, which the Ministry would never allow. You couldn't carry my legitimate heir." Ginny's reply to this was a frustrated expression and pursed lips, and her master chuckled. "And," he added, "it's not like I intended to be faithful to you anyway." The frustrated expression turned into one of outright turmoil.
"So what does this mean for us?" Ginny asked, finally, tone broken.
"If you're thinking that suddenly you'll just be having sex with Potter again you're sadly mistaken," Malfoy told her. "You're my concubine forever. That means this sexy body will be serving me to my deathbed. You'll be pleasuring me every way imaginable — even having my children if I desire it." Ginny's eyes widened, and her master grinned at her. "That's what concubines do. They bear their master's children, even if they're already married. Especially if they're already married. Though I'll hate to subject them to Potter's parenting I think it'll be good for the Potter name to be pureblood again, don't you? Can you just imagine your husband handing over his family name to our son?" The thought seemed almost to put Ginny's master in a trance, and he stroked her stomach tenderly, almost unseeingly. Then he shook himself. "That reminds me though. I want to get you pregnant sometime before the wedding, so that when you are unable to have sex it falls in Astoria's and my honeymoon period. Your husband declined to impregnate you, so now your firstborn will be mine."
"What?!" Ginny exclaimed, this last bit of information having finally caused her to break. "How's he supposed to impregnate me when he can't even bloody well touch me?"
"There is a clause," Malfoy said slowly, "to protect the families of men who have had their wives taken as concubines — it's so that the men can have heirs by their own loins rather than by the loins of their wives' masters. It is a grace period during which the open-concubine cannot be impregnated by her master, instead allowing the husband to impregnate her with his firstborn son and heir. The husband may request an indefinite extension to impregnate his wife until she gives birth to his son, but that must be after he has completed the open-concubinage by requesting that he may sleep with his wife's master's concubine. Your husband has done neither and that grace period has now expired, meaning that I may impregnate you whenever I wish. So, the first Potter born for twenty years will be sired from a Malfoy. Makes me wonder why my father didn't try to have this fun with Potter's mother, muggleborn though she was. Then again, Potter's father was a lot less… ignorant than he is."
Ginny could only stare at her master in shock. "And how was Harry supposed to know of this?"
Malfoy shrugged, a knowing and altogether too smug smile on his face. "It's not my duty to inform my concubine's husband of anything related to his rights within the law. That duty falls to others, and I can only assume that they made sufficient efforts to inform your husband of what his situation now was." Ginny gaped at him, and the blond took the opportunity to seal his lips against hers and begin snogging her. It took Ginny awhile, but soon she was kissing her master back. She was kissing her master… and the future father of her children, she realized. Since she was a teenager she had only really ever envisioned having one man's children, but now those visions of dark brunettes and redheads with green eyes was replaced with visions of strawberry-blond-haired children all with sparkling blue eyes.
She was breathing hard when Malfoy disengaged his mouth from hers, lying on the desk with her eyes closed, and took a few moments before she looked up at her master. He was staring down at her almost-nakedness with an inscrutable expression, and Ginny swallowed. "My wedding anniversary's coming up," she said, and master cocked an eyebrow at his concubine. "Come find me then. Or a few days before. Impregnate me on my anniversary." He looked as if he was about to refuse her simply because she had asked it of him instead of being purely his desire, but she looked up at him desperately. "Please, master." He sighed and nodded, and Ginny let out a grateful breath. Then… "Please fuck me," she said meekly.
"No," Malfoy finally replied. "You've been a bad concubine. Go home. You are an instrument for my pleasure and you have displeased me, so it is only fair that you too are denied pleasure." He pulled out of her, making Ginny cry out in dismay, and continued "You're not to bring yourself to orgasm either. The next time you orgasm will be when I have decided I have need of you again." "But master–––!" Ginny cried.
"No, Concubine Potter. Too bad your husband has not asked for you yet."
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For the first time in many months, Harry was feeling quite good. It was the long-planned anniversary weekend and his plan had actually worked. He had Ginny all to himself for many long days, and with luck he'd be able to convince her to sleep with him again without all this nonsense of 'accepting her concubinage' and 'asking Malfoy to sleep with his concubine.' What rubbish. As if he'd need permission to sleep with his own wife, just because the Wizengamot had forced him to give her to another man.
Shaking away the dark thoughts, Harry allowed himself to smile for the first time in a long while as he saw his wife come down the stairs. Walking slowly and smiling at him — not Malfoy — radiantly, Ginny almost looked just like the girl he'd married again. Her hair was shorter and her body more alien to him, yes, but when he saw that smile she was just his Ginny again. Dressed in a conservative grey blouse and a skirt with a thin, light robe draped over her shoulders, Ginny was not the most sexily dressed she ever had been, but to Harry it was the fact she was dressed for him that mattered. It mattered enough that he could feel himself getting aroused, and he clamped down on the reaction. For once it was inconvenient that Ginny's concubinage, Harry reluctantly admitted, had indeed made her sexier.
Behind his wife floated a few cases of luggage, all of it packed in the last few days for their anniversary trip. "Ready to go?" Ginny asked him, and Harry nodded, running through a mental checklist that helped him stop thinking about the many swimsuits and lingerie outfits he had seen his wife packing. He could hardly believe his involuntary celibacy was almost over.
"Yep," he replied when he had run through the list and couldn't think of anything lacking. Ginny smiled and linked her arm with his, causing Harry to develop a warm feeling in his chest, and the couple exited the house easily, Harry waving his wand to lock everything before he pulled his wife close and the two disapparated to the Ministry's international portkey departure office.
The office itself was nothing special — a lounge that looked as though it had been pulled from smoking clubs of the turn of the century built into an old bookstore on a dingy side-street — and the clerks who manned it even less so. To Harry, who had gotten rather used to the looks everyone in the wizarding world gave him ever since Ginny had been taken, the bored, uninterested glances were quite a relief. A wizened man who seemed to have lost his love for magical transportation long ago evaluated them with tired eyes before handing them their portkey, and soon enough the Potter couple were whirling through the magical space used for portkey travel.
With a grunt, Harry and Ginny landed on their feet, and Harry watched his wife look around at the wizarding resort he had selected to rekindle their marriage. Quite an expensive resort, the whole complex was located in a hidden alcove of the southern Italian coast. Less one resort and more a sprawling village of luxurious buildings including extensive baths, pools of the most wild and magical kind, beaches, sport areas, expansive gardens, and huge, untamed areas of countryside one could wander through. Not least of all were the small cottage-like structures that made up accommodation; tiny buildings placed close together with none of the usual bulk of a normal house like kitchens or recreational areas. The huts were essentially nothing more than bedrooms coupled with enormous bathrooms.
From the small courtyard that the portkey had dumped them in, the couple could see this all spread out a little below them, and Harry watched as his wife's eyes grew wide. For a second the redhead seemed to stand in shock before she whirled around and grabbed his arm with a grin on her face. "Show me the rooms!" she cried, and Harry barely had a chance to grab their luggage with a wave of his wand in one hand and get the room key from the portkey clerk with the other before he was pulled off down the path towards the huts signposted as 'accommodation.'
Feeling lighter than he had in a long time, Harry elected to follow his excited wife.
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Overall, Harry would call his plan to seduce Ginny a mixed success. On the one hand there had been no sneaking off on her part or any mysterious blonds hanging around, which Harry considered a plus, but on the other hand Ginny wasn't as intimate with him as he'd been hoping. Oh, sure, after the last few months he hadn't exactly been expecting his wife to jump him as soon as they were out of Britain and far away from her master, but he'd at least been hoping for something other than the cold shoulder.
Perhaps that was being a little unfair. He and Ginny were getting along better than they had in many months. For once Harry could just pretend that Ginny was not another man's concubine and that they were, once again, merely a young married couple in love. There was no fighting and arguing, and the dark-haired wizard supposed he ought to focus on that rather than the fact that Ginny wasn't behaving as she had on their honeymoon.
The problem, in Harry's mind, was that Ginny wasn't acting like his wife. She was acting more like his friend than anything else; Harry imagined he'd have had much the same experience if he'd brought Luna along or perhaps — on further thought — one of the girls from Dumbledore's Army. The redhead he had married had not even kissed him, let alone hinted she wanted to sleep with him, and she had quickly opted to have separate beds in their lodgings. That had stung, Harry had admitted, but it was better than having her flaunt her relationship with Malfoy as some sort of bid to break him down and have him accept his new circumstances.
Really, he supposed, he ought to be glad Ginny wasn't covering herself head to toe from him. For the first time in a long while, Harry had seen his wife in her underwear. Better yet, she hadn't tried to hide herself from him. His wife had decided to display her new body to its fullest, wearing an array of stunning swim- and exercise-wear all around the resort at the activities they had gone to.
Maybe it would just take time. When they had first arrived Ginny had been excited but she had quickly fallen into some sort of absent or distracted mood, as though she wasn't really interested in what was going on around her. After a few days the mood seemed to fade and Harry felt his wife was getting more involved in things and having fun — they had even had a game of pickup quidditch with a few fans of hers. A few more days and he had tried becoming more intimate with her, offering to apply sunscreen to her or even, when she declined, merely doing so on his own initiative. He had given messages, tickled her, helped her put on various pieces of clothing, and even attempted to kiss her a few times, but his wife seemed to remain stubbornly chaste.
Still, they were here for a vacation and Harry had time to get his wife back.
––|––
With a look in the mirror and a glance at his side to see Bennie's approving nod, Draco finished doing up the intricate knot that fastened his grey cloak around his neck. With a confident smile at the man in the mirror, Draco took his comb and ran it through his sleek blond hair. He had since dropped the magical bleach he had used in his schooldays so that his hair was wavier and a more natural golden color, but unfortunately that necessitated a lot more combing as well. Finally satisfied, he handed the comb to his elf, who disappeared with a pop!, and double-checked himself that he had everything he needed. That done, he quickly strode down to the entrance hall of his house, not bothering to disturb his recluse of a mother, and was pleased to find Bennie had deposited the magical bag he had packed in front of the huge doors.
He was just about to walk through them and make his way to the portkey office when Bennie appeared in front of him again, and the Malfoy lord regarded the elf curiously. "Will master be wanting anything else before he departs?" the elf asked, and Draco thought for a moment before shaking his head.
"No. Just keep the mansion secure and make sure mother actually eats. Don't let her skip more than two meals unless she's sick, even if she orders you away." Bennie bowed to show he accepted his master's command, and Draco thought for a second longer. "Oh, and please don't tell Astoria where I am if she comes around asking. Deflect as much as possible; don't clue her on to anything. She's already unhappy enough with the whole concubine situation and she doesn't need to know my firstborn won't be hers." He stopped again. "Unless I communicate otherwise assume I'll be back in a week."
With that he briskly left the mansion's grounds, disapparated to the portkey office, and quickly obtained his portkey from the old wizard behind the desk. He was practically trembling with excitement as he waited for the old wizard to do his job and as he waited for his portkey's appointed departure time, and he quickly forced himself to calm down. For a moment he was at a loss for his excitement, but then he realized that, since finally getting Ginny Potter into his bed, he had not gone for more than a day without sleeping with a woman. After two decades of celibacy as was proper he had become all too quickly accustomed to having a witch he could shag whenever he wanted, and now he had been deprived of it. His only consolation was that at least Potter wasn't getting anything from his wife either.
Then again, he reflected, being deprived of his concubine probably wasn't the only reason for his excitement. No, he decided, it was probably perfectly normal to be excited when you were going to impregnate a woman, let alone a married woman. Of course, he had always intended — at least, since he had taken her as a concubine — to have children by Ginny, but now the time had actually come. He hadn't originally planned to do it on her anniversary and certainly hadn't taken her suggestion well. True, he wasn't necessarily averse to the idea of impregnating Ginny on the anniversary of her wedding to Harry, but taking suggestions from a concubine undermined their relationship. Still, he hadn't quite been able to deny the idea had its appeal, especially with his marriage to Astoria on the horizon.
At that thought he felt himself stiffen. What would it be like, having two witches in his bed? For a moment he fantasized about having both his wife and his concubine at the same time, but those thoughts faded as he remembered the last argument he had had with his betrothed. Would Astoria even allow Ginny into their wedding bed? Somehow Draco doubted it. For a moment he scowled and wished he could take Astoria as his concubine as well. Then she wouldn't have any say in the matter. It was too bad the Greengrasses would never allow it.
Still, it didn't matter too much. He already had one beautiful concubine and he'd have to settle for that. Draco thought he probably ought to be grateful that he'd have both a beautiful wife and a beautiful concubine to sate his desires. He also, he thought, better stop thinking of them before he had an embarrassing moment. A week of celibacy after months of at least daily sex was taking its toll, and Draco was half convinced he'd simply rip Ginny's clothes off as soon as he saw her.
The wait for the portkey was agonizing but soon enough Draco found himself flying towards Italy and a rendezvous with his waiting concubine. He was so weak-kneed that by the time his feet hit the gravel of the portkey arrival point at the resort he almost collapsed, and it took a moment's incredible willpower to stop himself having his image tarnished. Nevertheless, he took a minute to compose himself (and make sure he could actually walk) before he handed his spent portkey to the waiting attendant and got his first glimpse of the place Potter had thought to use to seduce his wife. Much as he made fun of Potter's taste, Draco had to hand it to the man; he certainly knew how to pick getaways. Funny that it only took losing his wife to another man to do it. There was probably some psychology at work there that Draco didn't bother to contemplate. He had only one goal in mind.
In his haste to find Ginny Draco almost forgot his luggage and it was with some embarrassment that he went slightly back to retrieve it. He made doubly sure to make a brisk pace away from the attendants after that. He had been walking a short while towards the small huts where the patrons stayed when he stopped. Ginny had given him the address where she and Harry were staying not only so that her master could visit her but also so he could book another hut close by, but it was the afternoon and Ginny was far from guaranteed to be there. Annoyed, Draco found himself wondering for a moment how to locate his concubine before he slapped himself on the forehead. They were bonded! He could locate her anywhere in reality! Opening himself to the bond, Draco quickly divined a direction to his concubine and was about to go there when he realized he ought to visit his hut first.
One quick visit later and the Malfoy lord had deposited his luggage, having changed out of his traveling robes to something far more comfortable and — more importantly — far easier for his concubine to remove from him. His erection hadn't quite gone down but had instead subsided to something partially stiff and bulging in his shorts, and he knew he couldn't wait much longer. He was out the door before he'd even probably put his sandals on and finding his way towards his waiting woman.
Finding Ginny didn't take long. Draco's senses led him down the pathway to one of the more secluded beaches, a shallow cove that, at first glance, seemed more like a man-made pool than anything natural. There were a number of witches and wizards there, and some were even doing something peculiar with long boards on the enormous waves in the cove. Others were playing various sports on the beach or in the still parts of the pool close to shore. Draco, however, had eyes for only one person there.
Dotted amongst the various witches and wizards in the waves occupied with batting an inflatable ball that had a tendency to zoom at one unprompted was a singular head of brilliant red hair. She was submerged up to her lower torso in an area far closer to shore than any natural beach would allow, short wet hair flecked with sea-spray and flying as she laughed. She wore nothing but a thin bikini that was almost translucent, and with her lower half obscured Draco could almost imagine his concubine was naked in the ocean, like some ancient Greek seductress. He felt himself stiffen, and as though prompted by it he saw Ginny turn towards him, her laughing expression turning into something far more primal. He saw her shout something to her companions without looking at them as she quickly made her way to him, finally emerging from the waves.
His concubine was a vision of pure sexuality, Draco thought as Ginny emerged fully. Her red hair and appearance was as beautiful as ever but that was not what Draco found drew his attention. What captivated him most was the rest of her. As he had seen her bikini was small; it was not the tiniest she had ever worn for him, but it made up for it in pure seductive potential. It was almost translucent, with only white highlights and patches to obscure her feminine areas, but it was made out of some thin, rubbery material that clung to the wonderful body he had claimed like a second skin. Second skin, like first, was coated in a fine sheen of fresh, oceanic water, an appearance that did nothing to curb his desire for her. Cool, clear drops of water flowed and traveled paths along her voluptuous body on paths Draco wished he could follow, tracing invisible outlines along skin that, through Sun and magic, had been toned to a most delicious, healthy color of cream.
All too soon she was right in front of him. "Master," Ginny breathed, eyes wide with the aroused look on her face that Draco had grown to know so well. Draco didn't need more of an invitation than that and quickly pulled the witch into his arms, dominating her lips with his. Even as they kissed feverishly Draco knew they were making a spectacle on the beach but at the moment he didn't care. It was clear his concubine had been missing him and, if he were honest with himself, he had been missing her too. To be honest, Draco didn't quite know what his concubine felt for him. It was obvious she was highly attracted to him, yes, but that was more than a little of the bond's doing combined with the fact that he wasn't an unattractive man. Beyond that, however, it was something of a mystery.
He was sure, at least, that a part of her hated him. It was justified, he supposed abstractly, given that he had ripped open her marriage without warning to take her to his bed and probably also given that she viewed it as an injustice against her and her husband. Hell, she probably hated him for his entire relationship with her husband. Yet, if she did, she seemed only to exhibit it through aggressive and sometimes painful bouts of sex. At the same time she also seemed possessive of him. Perhaps it was merely natural to be possessive of people you were having sex with or perhaps it was evidence of the supposed deeper feelings Potter's wife had for him that the gossip rags kept talking about. He wondered if she had any true affection for him at all. Even on their 'dates' it had been more about showing off for the public and enjoying each other in non-talking-related activities. In the end, he supposed it didn't really matter. She was still his to have sex with whenever he wanted and nothing would change that.
The thoughts were driven from his head as Ginny pressed her scantily clad body against him, grinding her soft curves into him, and Draco didn't even care that his concubine was getting his clothes wet. Finally, they broke apart, and Ginny took it upon herself to immediately lean into his shoulder. "Let's go back to my rooms," the redhead whispered in his ear. Draco felt himself harden and despite being his concubine's suggestion he couldn't find it within himself to disagree. He quickly disengaged her from him and took her hand, and master and concubine swiftly made their way up the beach paths back to the huts.
Briefly, the thought that many others there might realize Ginny was married and going off with another man crossed his mind but Draco quickly decided that only made him more aroused. Fucking Potter's wife was, of course, always enough to get him hard, not least because she was an attractive witch but because sleeping with a married woman was a thrill. There was something extra about it being public, however. Maybe because it wasn't enough for merely Potter to know his wife was unfaithful and the rest of the world had to know too. Maybe Draco just had an exhibitionist streak. Whatever the case, walking off from the beach with his concubine to go bed her was an experience Draco hoped he'd be able to repeat.
It wasn't until he realized they weren't coming up to his hut — not, he reflected a moment later, that Ginny would know where it was — but the one where his concubine and her husband were staying that Draco had enough presence of mind to realize that he was being practically dragged along by the hand by his concubine. The eagerness of the young redhead to fuck gratified the Malfoy lord but he was quickly distracted by Ginny pushing him up against the door of her hut and kissing him again. The extramarital lovers entwined themselves again before Draco grew impatient and fumbled for the door handle behind him and the two went crashing through.
Draco's hands were everywhere on his concubine and he quickly realized the walk back in the Sun had left her coated in salt. "Shower," he grunted in her ear and Harry's wife nodded eagerly, pulling him in the direction of the bathroom. Draco had barely gone through the large archway that served in place of a door between the bedroom and large bathroom before Ginny had turned the shower on and was already turning back to him to attack his clothes. Draco was glad he had chosen appropriately for his concubine had no trouble first removing his light polo shirt and then his shorts and briefs. The blond had already kicked off his sandals; with that he was standing naked in the Potters' bathroom with a bikini-clad Mrs. Potter. Just as eagerly, Ginny removed her bikini top and Draco was treated to an eyeful as her wonderful breasts sprang free, the bikini being so tight. His concubine was just about to remove her near-translucent bikini-bottoms too before her master pushed her up against the long wall of the shower and attacked her mouth.
Ginny easily responded, kissing him lustfully back while he played with her naked (and now deliciously wet) breasts until the nipples were hard, before he broke the kiss, carefully turned her around, and shoved her up against the wet wall, absent-mindedly throwing grip-charms at their feet to that they didn't slip during their fucking. The redhead concubine moaned as Draco manhandled her and quickly looked over her shoulder as Draco grabbed her hips and pulled them out, his already hard length rubbing against the bare skin of her wonderful arse left uncovered by her thong bikini.
Draco always savored undressing Harry's wife as he prepared to fuck her and this time was no different. He rubbed at her soft curves, loving to grab her hips, before moving ever so slightly down so he could hook his thumbs in the loops of the garment barely covering her womanhood. His redheaded concubine let out an excited little moan and spread her legs a little, making it easier for Draco to remove the bikini bottoms from her hips. The garment was quickly forgotten upon the shower floor. Master and concubine eagerly and clumsily fumbled with each other's slick bodies, Draco reaching around to cup his woman's mound and play with her entrance while he savored what he was about to do. Impatiently, Ginny bucked against him and pushed out her hips so her entrance was there for the taking. Her slit was dripping and inviting and Draco quickly forced his manhood into Ginny's warm wetness. Ginny moaned as she was pushed into the wall, and Draco felt his hips press against her magnificent rear as he filled her completely.
Draco always relished fucking his woman and now was no different. After resting inside Ginny a moment he moved his hips back and withdrew himself from his concubine while she made little sounds of dismay. Then he slammed back in. "Fuck yes!" Ginny cried up against the wall. "Oh, Merlin, Master, fuck me!" As if to emphasize her point she pushed and ground her rear against him as best she could with her feet stuck to the floor. The sounds of the sexy witch beneath him and the feeling of her married slickness squeezing and twisting around him was one of the most erotic things Draco had ever felt and he gripped the redhead's hips to take control of her motions. She made an erotic little sound of surrender. With increasingly powerful thrusts he began repeatedly violating her pale, beautiful, wifely body to her cries of approval. "Oh fuck," the young redhead cried as she was impaled by a particularly forceful thrust from her master.
A few more thrusts into the eager witch and Draco had set a rhythm, entering his concubine with increasing force as he took all she had to offer, all she willingly gave him. He had lost himself in the sexy, young witch and was about to reach climax inside her when there was a startled — and very masculine gasp — from the entranceway to the bathroom. "Ginny?!" Harry Potter cried in dismay upon discovering his wife in the embrace of another man. Draco's eyes snapped open just as his concubine reeled backwards, reflexively covering her naked breasts while trying also to shield her womanhood from view. His concubine seemed nearly to trip over (with her feet stuck to the floor it wasn't surprising) and only managed to steady herself by pressing backwards into him. Almost instinctively, Draco enveloped his woman's smaller form in his own, larger form and discovered it was quite arousing to hold Ginny wet and naked against him like this. It helped that he was still — shallowly — inside her, and though the angle was not optimal Draco had to admit there was a sort of painful eroticism about it.
He was jolted back to the situation at hand when his concubine made a little squeaking sound and tried to disentangle herself from him, presumably to hide herself. Draco held fast and a naked and partially-fucked Ginny Potter was forced to confront her husband. Even from behind, Draco could tell she was struggling with her emotions, but he couldn't discern them clearly without seeing her face. He could certainly see Harry's though. His rival hadn't looked so shocked since his name had been spit from the Goblet of Fire, Draco was fairly sure. Other emotions were clearly at play too. Fear, anger, desire, jealousy, indignity, weariness, desire, and many others Draco could see flick across his rival's face. He could even, he thought, see a shadow of arousal. That gave Draco pause. Could it be that Potter actually… enjoyed seeing his wife betray him? The pureblood wizard had certainly heard of such men (usually as an insult) but it was hardly something discussed in polite company. Then again, perhaps after all his hardships Potter had developed something of a masochistic streak…
"What are you doing?" Potter asked the obvious question, though he still seemed to be processing things.
Draco couldn't see her face, but he heard it in her tone when his concubine rolled her eyes, apparently settling on dutiful resignation as a mask. "What does it look like?" she asked her husband. "I'm faithfully serving my master. My body is my master's to enjoy whenever he pleases. You know this. My duties as a concubine don't end because we go on vacation. What were you bloody well expecting?"
It was only because he caught the briefest glimpse of the man who had faced down Voldemort — a man who seemed to have been mysteriously absent these last few months while Draco rightfully took Lady Potter into his bed — that Draco managed to restrain himself from laughing at the expression on Potter's face. For the briefest second he had looked dismayed, and then it had been replaced by anger. "I was bloody expecting to sleep with my wife, that's what! After months and months of celibacy when I'm married I was expecting to enjoy the woman I wedded!"
Ginny shifted against Draco, and he felt her press herself further into him, as though retreating from her husband. Whatever her intention — conscious or unconscious — had been, his concubine got quite a different reaction from her master. Interrupted so close to climax, Draco's manhood was beginning to ache. He couldn't help himself. One hand slid down to Ginny's hips while the other remained cupping her torso, and he used the leverage to bend Ginny slightly and ease the rest of himself slowly back into her. Ginny didn't seem to notice as she was focusing on her husband.
"You haven't accepted my concubinage," Ginny said in a tone Malfoy couldn't identify. There seemed to be hints of everything there. Exasperation, despair, weariness, smugness, and not too small an amount of satisfaction. "You haven't completed the ritual. You haven't given Draco his rights. Hell, you haven't even presented me to him! How can you possibly expect me to sleep with you?"
This time Potter did gape, but his expression was nothing compared to what graced his face when Draco — who had withdrawn himself from the redhead — forcefully entered her again, causing her to emit an erotic cry. Draco, for his part, merely moved the hand on her torso up to her suddenly outstretched neck as she bucked erratically against him, holding her tight against him almost to the point he was choking her. Again Draco withdrew before he slammed himself back into her, her womanhood quivering around him as the blond took what was his. With every stroke into his concubine Draco cared less and less that Potter was there to witness it, merely desiring to extract the pleasure from Ginny he had been seeking before being rudely interrupted. Soon he was again slamming into her wildly, pushing her into the wall while Ginny cried out.
"Holy Merlin!" Potter's voice exclaimed as his wife began shrieking in pleasure. When he heard the voice of the man he was cuckolding, Draco felt himself stiffen almost unbelievably and it took all his might not to spill himself mid-thrust. Instead, he opened his eyes to look at Potter, only to see his concubine doing the same thing to her husband as she gave herself to another man. The look on Potter's face — one of bewilderment and horror — finally sent Draco over the edge, and with the right prompt Ginny came too. With his cock stuffed all the way into Potter's wife, Draco spilled himself in the redhead's womb, rope after rope hitting her wet passage. Ginny was whispering sweet nothings to her lover as he filled her, and it was only after they had both calmed down from orgasm — Draco softening but remaining inside his witch — that they again remembered Potter was there. More accurately, he reminded them. "What the bloody hell was that?!"
Ginny's face seemed to screw up. "A bloody great shag. You shouldn't have friggin' forgotten them already."
Potter gaped at her. "And I'm right here!"
"What difference does it make?" Ginny retorted hotly, voice growing louder. "Am I any less 'defiled' when he shags the shit out of me everywhere else?"
"That doesn't mean I bloody well want to see it!"
"You don't want it to happen at all!"
Potter's face was red by now. "No, I don't, and I wish you'd stop pretending that's unreasonable!"
"How many times do I have to explain this to you?! It's reasonable for a concubine to sleep with her master! She exists to serve his every sexual whim!" she hurled at him. "What's unreasonable is for a man to defy magic itself dictating his wife give herself to another man!"
"Even if I accepted all this codswallop — which I don't — that still doesn't mean you shouldn't be discrete about it! For Merlin's sake, Ginny, you disappear from the beach on the arm of another man and then I come back to find you screaming against a wall in full view of the entire suite!"
Ginny sneered at him. "In case you need a reminder for the umpteenth time, my sex-life is as discrete as my master wants it to be. If he stripped me naked and told me to suck his big cock in the middle of the Ministry Atrium it would be my duty to do so." Right at that moment Draco thought very hard about not suddenly occupying Ginny's mouth with something else — wanting to see out this argument between his concubine and her husband.
"That's not what I meant and you know it!" Harry retorted. A beat, then… "And I wouldn't approve of that either!"
"Well, again, newsflash!" Ginny cried with an exasperated tone, "what you approve of doesn't much matter when it comes to my sex-life anymore!" The scene might almost have been comical — a very naked, very wet, very disheveled Ginny arguing angrily with her husband — were it not so very arousing for Draco.
"That doesn't mean you have to force me to see––– to see–– to see–––" Potter sputtered, waving his hands around in the air, "this!"
"Why?" Ginny asked, a tone of deceptive nonchalance afoot in her voice. "It's not like you haven't known we've been doing this for months."
"Goddamnit, Gin!" Harry swore. "You promise to hate being bloody Malfoy's concubine––" Draco had not known that particular piece of information, but it didn't terribly surprise him, "––and then suddenly you're gallivanting off with him with a bloody great smile on your face, getting every friggin' scrap of cloth you can find to make him fuck you harder, shagging him in our own house and in our wedding bed, and now you're parading your affair in front of my nose!"
"It––– is––– not––– an––– affair!" Malfoy's concubine shouted. "I am rightfully his by law and magic! No one's forcing you to watch me enjoy fulfilling my duties! Whose wand is pointed at you forcing you to watch your naked wife and her master?"
"That's not bloody well the point and you know it!" Harry retorted.
Angrily, Ginny spun around to face Draco with a blazing look on her face. "Master?" she asked in a tone much softer than Draco had been anticipating. "I love you," she said, and Draco could barely contain his surprise before Potter's wife drew him into the most passionate kiss they had ever shared. At some point her feet had come unstuck, and Ginny turned to access him better. The kiss of what Draco could only describe as abiding, wifely love quickly turned far more hot and sexual until he and Ginny were practically devouring each other, and when his concubine's hand reached down to find his manhood she found it erect and ready. With a happy hum so different from her attitude a few moments before the redhead spread her legs and, with a little help from Draco, was helped off her feet and pushed against the wall so she could mount him. Clumsily, she began riding her master, bucking against him in the age-old dance to drive his rod further into her demanding snatch. Once she had finally picked up a rhythm, or at least when she felt confident enough, she wrapped her arms around Draco's neck and brought him in for a slower, sloppier kiss, the best they could manage so entwined.
Much as he loved to fuck Ginny wildly from behind, Draco thought, taking his concubine while she faced him was always the most intense way they could be together. The sheer, raw emotion somehow added a depth to the event that their more distant coitus did not attain. Here was a witch Draco felt little for besides a burning lust, a raging jealousy, and a desire to possess. He had, quite literally, forced her against her will to sleep with him and keep sleeping with him, no matter what odd delusions she had (erotic as they were). Every time he took her — every time he stretched her by forcing his manhood into her wet snatch — it was, at least partially, against her will. What could that possibly do but generate intense emotions? Ginny was certainly intense when fucking him. It was though they were locked in a battle of wills. Her brown eyes — now more grey after their bonding — burned into his, as though daring him.
Over what Draco wasn't quite sure. Was she daring him to imply she wasn't his equal? Was she daring him to deny that her concubinage had been as much her choice as his will? Was she daring him to challenge her husband for the right to bed her? Daring him to assert his dominance over the other man? Daring him to go against her will and fuck her anyway? He didn't know. All he knew was that his eyes were just as bright to her as he stole her from her marriage and husband; as he took her body for his own; as he asserted his right to her in the most primal way possible.
In the end, he supposed it was when Ginny was at her most dominant and aggressive that their sex was best. Perhaps it was when she was that she was at her most attractive too. The more and more Draco had these times, the more and more he realized why Potter had married this witch. It was almost intoxicating to bend so delectable and fierce a creature to his will. More and more he was finding it was not so much Lady Potter that he desired so much as Ginny Potter. And she was all his.
At that thought he came, pressing Ginny roughly into the wall and sheathing himself totally in her. He sought to dominant every inch of her, covering her mouth with his as they cried out again in mutual orgasm — a sexy side-benefit of the concubine bond — while pressing every bit of himself against his concubine. She was pressed against his body so that he could feel every pocket and curve of her nakedness, and for a moment the two were in bliss before it faded.
Weak at the knees, Draco fell to the floor of the shower, the strength from his legs gone, while Ginny carefully slid down the wall to rest on her shapely rear. Draco noticed she was quivering. In a sudden moment of realization, Draco turned to see if Potter had witnessed his moment of weakness, but there was no sign of the other man in the bathroom or anywhere else. At some point he must have taken his wife's advice, Draco mused. He and Ginny must have been too wrapped up in each other to notice. He wondered, with a smile, how Potter had taken that.
Finally feeling the strength to stand, Draco rose and dragged his concubine to her feet along with him. An embarrassed smile graced her lips, and he led her out of the shower with an altogether different smile. He also wasted no time in pinching his concubine's very pinchable arse, earning an outraged squeak and a run to the towels. Draco wondered if Ginny had ever behaved this way around her husband. Maybe he'd ask her. Or, he thought, maybe he'd ask Potter. Or both. A smirk found its way onto his lips.
They were quickly dry — magic providing a not small aid — save for Ginny's hair which she insisted on drying the muggle way. To Draco's satisfaction, however, the shorter haircut he had insisted upon for his concubine made the process easier, and soon they were both, in Draco's mind, ready for an enjoyable afternoon. With no little eagerness, though he concealed it, he made his way to the bed and quickly pushed the covers to the end, laying upon it and expecting to be joined by his concubine.
Ginny, however, had followed only sedately and was standing near the end of the bed, not facing him. Instead she was facing the door, and while Draco could very much admire the view of her from behind framed by the door he wanted very much to experience the body he beheld with more than just his eyes. Frustration welled up but was overtaken by curiosity, and he looked at his concubine. Her gaze was far away, out the door, but her left hand was cradled by her right. Though the motions were small, Draco could see she was playing with her wedding ring. Now he understood. Guilt. Well, time to make her forget it!
Coming up behind her swiftly, he wrapped her in his arms and suckled on her neck hard enough to leave a mark. Ginny made some protesting noise, but Draco hardly heard it as he pulled his naked concubine into the bed she shared with her husband. His affections grew more insistent and her protests grew weaker. "Come to bed," Draco whispered to her, playing with her erogenous zones. Finally Ginny stopped struggling and once again the two lay together as master and concubine.
Last edited: 2017.12.25