Hermione smoothed her sundress down with her palms, fingers twitching with a nervousness she had never known before as she walked up the white stone driveway to his front door. The manor becoming increasingly intimidating with every step she took towards the structure.
It had been two weeks since their last encounter and their first kiss. Ron had left for the world cup without even as much as a goodbye or a peck on the lips to show his affection and she knew he had mentally left the relationship.
All the what if's ran through her mind in double-time. What if Lucius was only using her? What would become of her marriage? What if she went further down this path of adultery? What if? What if? She stopped, realising she had made it to the foot of the stairs in a blur.
Releasing a deep breath she never realised she had been holding in, lids fluttered shut for a fleeting moment as if willing herself to continue up the three steps and see what fate had for her behind the dark, oak door.
Why was she shaking like a leaf? Her legs momentarily turned to jelly as she hauled herself up the stairs, almost forgetting the acquired skill of walking that she had been using since she was one year old. The mind was a fickle thing, it worked logically right up until the moment you needed it.
A clenched fist raised, knuckles white as they met briefly with the door as it sprung open. Lucius stood towering over her, his gaze shifting, eyes darkening.
Looking her up and down for a fleeting moment he stepped back, inviting her in.
Her heart hammered against her chest with vigour, an odd mix of nervousness and fear from the atrocities that had befallen her previously in these walls. She jumped slightly as he gently placed a hand on the small of her back before she relaxed against his touch.
Gently, he guided her, his body slightly behind her own as he did so. The silence was deafening and yet she had been rendered mute since the moment she had walked through those ominous front gates.
"Cat got your tongue?" His deep voice cut her to the core.
"N… No" she stammered. Her head shook slightly to back up her statement. The truth was… Hermione was petrified. It was all fun and games before, but now she was here it seemed so much more real. Like her entire life could change based on the events of today and she did not know what to do.
She had not even noticed he had pushed her into what she could only imagine was his sitting room. The large fireplace was the star of the show and she imagined it would look quite nice in winter when it was raging. The deep oak surrounded with hand-carved dragons standing proudly finished it off.
The bearskin rug in the middle of the floor turned her stomach slightly, as did the dragon hide-covered winged back chairs and matching sofa. A desk pushed off into the corner facing a large window overlooking some magnificent gardens, with books of many size and colours finishing off the décor. She could only wish those books could take, some hundreds of years old and the stories that they could tell would be titillating.
"Sit. Please." He gestured to the array of seating on offer.
She eyed them all as if weighing up which one to take. If she sat on the sofa, there was a chance for him to sit beside her. If she sat in a single armchair, then she had time to decide what she wanted because right now her head and her heart were fighting one another for supremacy. It was wrong to cheat on her husband, but, at the same time, was he cheating on her?
"Relax, woman," his voice almost commanding her as he spoke.
"Sorry," she said with a nervous smile. "I. I just never." She stopped, sighing loudly trying to put the words together in her head.
This was more awkward than she had anticipated. The organic attraction she felt towards him when they kissed had all but fallen by the wayside. This felt unnatural and awkward. She expected butterflies in her stomach and a heavy yearning in her heart, instead, she felt like she should not be here.
"I should go. This was a mistake." She turned on her heel hurriedly and did not even make it a step across the room as his arm shot out and grasped her tightly across her stomach.
Stopping, her breath hitched in her throat as her brain turned to static and she forgot how to use her feet to move herself forward.
His warm fingers grazing her belly ever so gently he spun her around with little effort. Her gaze affixed to the floor she could feel his eyes burning into the top of her head.
"You don't need to go anywhere, Hermione," his voice met her ears in a soft, gentle whisper as the hand that was once her stomach moved to her chin, a single finger propping her head up to match his gaze. She was confused. This wasn't the Lucius Malfoy she had once come to loathe with a deep hatred running through her veins, this was a man who almost came across as human, something up until recently, she wasn't sure he was.
Icy grey eyes connected with warm chocolate ones and for a few fleeting moments, he was sure his heart had skipped a beat. He had not felt this way in, well, forever. Her eyes soft and inviting he felt himself being drawn in closer to her lips.
Her heart hammered against her chest. She felt committed now. This was the moment that could change her life forever. Her hands trembling as his lips touched hers featherlight, eyes instinctively closed as he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him, the small gap that once separated them existed no longer.
She could feel his muscular frame beneath his robes as it pressed against her own body. Hermione relaxed into both touch and kiss, leaning her body weight into his own. The grip on her waist tightened as he took up some of the pressure she was placing upon his before deepening the kiss tenfold.
If you had asked her who Ron was, she would have asked Ron who. Any memory of her husband was erased from her mind by mesmerising kiss of another man.
Guiding her gently to the sofa he fell back, capturing her wrist as he did so pulling her atop of him. Panting slighting trying to catch her breath from the kiss reached up swiping a curl behind her ear that had found its way across her cheek.
She searched his eyes desperately for a hint of disgust or remorse so she could end this, but she found only lust and want.
Clambering off him his heart sank for a moment before she turned around to face him again. Reaching back, she slowly slid the zip on her dress down, the fabric fell soundlessly and pooled at her feet. Her naked body was exposed to him.
The corner of lips twitched in amusement as eyes roved her body as if exploring a new world. Hungrily he licked his lips, thinking of all the devious things he would love to do with her right now. The fucking little minx knew exactly what she was coming here for, not wearing a single stitch of underwear drove that point home.
"You did lure me here under false pretences, Mister Malfoy," she whispered hotly into his ear, sitting down on his lap. His left-hand roved over her body, resting happily on her right breast, left hand tracing circles on her milky white thigh.
"And what false pretences were those, Miss Granger?" He whispered back darkly before dropping a kiss on her shoulder hungrily.
"You said I was coming for lunch."
The hand that was tracing circles on her thigh delved into her hot, slick centre, seeking out her clit. In response, she parted her legs just so.
"Oh, don't you worry, Miss Granger," he whispered haughtily, fingers rubbing against her moistened clit and enjoying every little moan that was singing from her body. "You will be coming for lunch. Repeatedly."
Biting her lower lip her back arched against him as the intensity of his fingers grew with every motion against her. Throwing her head back his warm lips assaulted the delicate nape of her neck, sending her even further into the moment of bliss as teeth grazed her skin softly.
"Lucius," she panted. "Don't stop." Breath increased exponentially as toes curled in utter bliss. A ball of pleasure erupting from her stomach and spreading through her body.
Breathless, she sat limply atop of him in a pleasure-induced bliss she had not felt at the hands of a man in a long while and perhaps, she wouldn't miss her husband. Not even a little bit. Not even at all.