Disclosure Hp belongs to JKR. The storyline, new character development, new events, and new characters are my intellectual property. Glorioux
Discoveries
Another first for Lucius Malfoy was about to happen, never before he had dirtied his hands with witch's juices, with Narcissa it just wasn't done, she had no juices or if so, nearly non-existent, and he had always donned a Muggle device when bedding the nameless witches; Draco had given him several boxes once he started seeing them.
With a quick gesture her knickers were gone, better. He breathed in relief because her juices were precisely what he wanted at that moment, and his fingers found a hardened nub in the midst of her wet folds.
During THE NIGHT, Lucius had seen their mouths busy with each others sexes, and he wanted that as well. The vision of Draco's head between her thighs made him whimper. If Draco were here, he would had asked him to show him how.
He had read about witches' bodies and knew what he needed to do, thus he flicked the small hard nub gently, and her strangled sounds rewarded him and confirmed that he had done right, his entire body throbbed with her sounds, her exotic smell, and her taste. The feel of her body, of the hot and sleek textures, had him crying strange sounds along with her, needy sounds and broken words he didn't recognize. He had been wrong about everything, and Draco had understood the secrets denied to him.
Boldly, his long finger sought the entrance into the tight channel; when it slipped in, her walls contracted in an orgasm, and the sensation made him cry aloud with intense pleasure. Her channel was hot and alive, and he imagined it squeezing his prick.
The old books about witches were all one lie after the next, and he felt foolish realizing no lubricant aid was need it, another lie. Now, it was clear Narcissa had never been very aroused, what lies, it had been all a ruse. She'd pretended for her position, for his money, but had no feelings for him. So maybe her suicide had been over the werewolf, his niece's husband. She had cried for him since ever. Moreover, he was certain she had been the werewolf lover till the end. Thinking about it was ruining his mood, no, no more thoughts about that nasty which.
His cock felt foreign, it wasn't just hard as required, he could always achieve an erection with a little stimulation; so he touched it, stroked it, and found it unusually hard, large, just as when he was a lad. He wondered if it looked as Draco's had. His son's was very large and rather a thing of beauty; he would have to look at his, later.
She realized what he was doing, so her hand helped him. She swoon upon touching him, it felt just like her lover's; his cock was also thick, large, very wet, and pulsating;
the hot, soft skin responded to her touch, so she also cried and wrapped her leg around him. He detected her move, surely one couldn't do what she was trying; how could he enter her standing up?
Should I ask, no, she might laugh, so he picked her up by her buttocks and doing so, he caught a glimpse of her, her eyes closed, and a blush covered her face which was set in an expression of bliss; the sight squeezed his heart, along with experiencing indefinable feelings. He loved her, he did.
He cried in a dead tongue, "Mine, I claim her as mine. " Yet, he didn't hear his own cries.
Hermione wondered why he was hesitating; it was almost as he didn't know what to do.
And now, at that moment, she knew that she needed him, Draco, my Draco. She was living her own fantasy. It was her lover's cock and his body– it all felt like him, heaven, he smelled just like Draco. The clothes had been her undoing.
After trying and sensing his distress because he was frustrated at not understanding the mechanics, she helped him by pulling herself up with her hands, and then guided him into her tight entrance.
"Not possible," Lucius mumbled.
"Yes, now," Hermione affirmed. At this he groaned in protest. He shouldn't do it because he was rather large, and she was so little, in this position he would just not be able, but he had to. What if he harmed the baby? The moment her flesh opened to allow his entrance, he tripped with them united as one.
This wasn't going to work, his whole body was trembling, his knees were buckling, the pleasure was so intense that made him believe he was dying when the head penetrated the tight entrance. It was the heat, the moisture, her walls so tight making his cock ache with the pressure and the pleasure. So if this was sex, what about before? It had been pleasurable but nothing close to this. He thrust until he was in, this was all together different, nirvana, heaven, paradise.
He found the first surface available and sat her there; he wanted to see her sinful sex. He pulled out as far as he could without disengaging. His face bent down to look. He blinked a couple of times, what he saw was unexpected. The sight of her swollen belly, her neatly trimmed hair, his glistening erection covered with both their releases, sliding in and out of her, made him cry with anger and frustration. He had never looked at Narcissa and his joining, gods. It probably never looked like this.
Was this what sex supposed to look like? He looked at her not comprehending, yet he found her beyond beautiful, the view of their joined sexes made him want to devour her. He was possessed, when he saw her face still wet with tears, and her mouth half-open from pleasure, he knew that he had to own her. In his twisted mind, she was his gift for all the bad things that happened during the last years, and he gracefully accepted it.
Mine, mine, mine, he said between shudders, he repeated the litany over and over, deep inside his mind. Everyone had lied to him all his life, Muggle witches held the key to pleasure. He would think about this later. It was not a mere body function, it was nirvana; it was to be able to reach the far realm.
He had been just looking at her while all the crazy theories went thru his debilitated mind, in a mad carousel interspersed with images and impressions.
Feeling his eyes upon her face, she barely opened her eyes, and her fingers went inside his mouth, to caress his tongue, his lips. At this, his hips thrust forward. Overwhelmed by the sensuality of their encounter and with her actions, he cried in the throes of pleasure. She had done the same to Draco, gods in heaven.
He put a finger inside her mouth, to check her reaction, and she sucked it with relish; when her tongue twirled around with pure naughtiness in her eyes, liquid fire ran through him, straight to his loins. It was as if she had her tongue around his cock. His breath was loud, all his life quiet and restricted, and now he cried chocking shudders, accompanied by small sounds and words.
Her breasts, why were they covered? He performed an annoyed hand wave, there you go, she was as he remembered. No she was prettier; better, she was perfect with her breasts engorged with pregnancy. His goddess of fertility, full of child, full of a Malfoy babe.
He bent and suckled as an infant while his hips thrust wildly; then his mouth moved to the other breast, and he felt her walls clamping down on him, such sweet pain, what was that, an orgasm? She tasted of ambrosia, of life. He wished that she was full of milk, he wanted to drink from her, at this improper thought, he knew it, he had gone mad, and he liked it.
Damn, she had orgasms, more than once. He had been right, the books his father gave him, were a pile of rubbish.
At feeling the pleasure tinged with a small dose of pain, when her tight channel squeezed him hard, broken words were spoken in the old language, the ancient language of the written Malfoy enchantments and secret rituals; albeit, he didn't have the faintest idea of the meaning of the spoken words.
Hermione couldn't believe this was the same angry wizard she had known all along, his eyes were sensual and burnt with passion.
His hair flew about with his movements; the alabaster colored skin was barely pink, rivulets of sweat ran down his body, his lips never quite closed, the head alternated between looking at their union and looking at her, and in moments of intense pleasure his head was thrown back. He was Draco, yet, he was even more beautiful, an angel, a former angry angel who had found his redemption.
All while his hips thrust forward in a fast rhythm, not gently, instead just like he had seen Draco, and he had foolishly thought he was crazy. He held her thighs in his arms, just as he remembered, but she lowered her arms and wrapped her legs around his hips. His hands alternated from her mouth, to her breast, which brought her pleasure as he had read long ago; he licked and bit her, and she did the same in return. She was screaming for him.
"More, harder, yes. Yes, touch there, oh, my Dark Angel." She cried.
She had called him, her angel; oh, yes, he would be that for her and more. Her tongue licked his salty skin with pleasure; and he heard her small tongue sizzled against his overheated body.
Lucius had never, ever he had experienced such intense sensations; and he realized how poor his life had been up to this moment, scheduled sex, controlled and repressed feelings, showers to rinse any traces of arousal and body secretions, minimum touching, what a laugh, a travesty more like it. He let out an incongruous laughter, but she didn't hear it.
At the next set of muscle contractions, the pleasure snake coiled around him. Feeling the oncoming release, the ineffable delicious burn, he witnessed the magic bursting out his body and was amazed to see random magic waves flying around the room. She was one powerful witch.
"Hermione, Hermione, beautiful witch, my witch, my sorceress, my precious goddess, mine, my witch," he cried as pleasure gripped his groin, and made him wish for release.
When her walls pulsed in an orgasmic wave, he was being squeezed as never before, he cried loudly while the witch in his arms cried his son's name, "Draco, oh Draco, I love you," for a flash in time, he hated Draco and wished she was his.
In a dark, murderous fit of rage and jealousy, he cried the words of claiming; the very ones he had never uttered, not even with Narcissa because he thought such possession was too basal, too animalistic.
It was selfish, irresponsible, and careless, because, unknown to him, her soul had already been bound to this home by his son; his son had claimed her in both of their names hoping for her to accept Lucius. All his actions had been geared towards uniting them three, and hopefully eliminating the despised Astoria with his father's support.
What Lucius was doing was something never done before, he was about to bind a soul twice. It would be impossible to judge the consequences. Who knew, he had opened doors into the unknown. His speech was heavy and slurred, and his body sought completion as he spoke. He was changing the timelines without realizing it.
The words came out broken, in the old language, the one of all the Malfoy enchantments and secret rituals were written, without the faintest idea of what he was saying. It was just pouring out his lips, words he had memorized but he no longer remember them in English. The very same ones that Draco had spoken in both of their names.
"Witch, by the law of the realms and the gates, you belong to the house of Malfoy; your blood belongs to this hearth and runs through its veins; your body and soul are bound to this hall. By the iron sword, the river's water, the ocean, the rain, the earth, the light of the moon, and the fire of the sun, by the portals between the here and there, I ask the life of these live stones to bind her to the Malfoy blood that runs thru me and make her womb accept my seed. From here to eternity, she is a Malfoy in body and soul."
The last words weren't heard because he didn't say them aloud, and the other words were unintelligible. However, the house's soul heard them, and changes happened all around them. The sharp pain morphed into pleasure, his cock hardened more, the snake coiled, bit, his seed exploded inside her, and he felt when his body died.
The house's incredible magic took his seed's essence and combined within the already formed child, melding Lucius' imprint into the babe's living body and soul. Scorpius would be a special child; he had one mother and two fathers.
Had he been thinking before, he would have further realized that the same child had already bonded Draco and also himself, according to their laws since he was unmarried. Draco had known one of them had to be unmarried.
Yes, somehow it had become clear to him, Draco must had already issued the bonding during that night at the stable; his son loved him best. Those were the feelings that were taking hold of him.
Furthermore, he should have investigated old scrolls and legends and could have understood so much happening around him, his hunger for her, she was also his, and he had been there during the first bonding.
This had been foretold, he was now sure of that fact, and then, why dwell upon it? He would need to look into it. It had started something, others had tried to stop not understanding how it would happen. They took Draco to stop what was already in place. Nobody liked change, he knew this as waves of understanding reached him. Meanwhile, it was over and done.
A/ So where is Draco?