Leigh!fic | Meet Me In the Red Room (1/1) | Lily Luna Potter/Various men
Title: Meet Me In the Red Room (1/1)
Author: Leigh, aka leigh_adams
Pairings: Cormac McLaggen/Lily Luna Potter, Draco Malfoy/Lily Luna Potter, Neville Longbottom/Lily Luna Potter, Scorpius Malfoy/Lily Luna, Teddy Lupin/Lily Luna Potter
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~5,300
Summary It's the age-old double standard: men can sleep around, but if women do the same, they're considered slags. Lily Luna has a problem with that.
Warnings/Content: Infidelity, implied relations between teacher and student (though said student is of age), and lots and lots of smut
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is JKR’s. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.
Author's notes: Written for the 2011 round at samhain_smut. This story gave me a lot of issues. Looking back, I'm really not sure what I was thinking when I chose this prompt, but I gave it the best I could, and I really hope you all enjoy. Many thanks to fiery_flamingo, my wonderful beta who isn't the biggest smut fan in the world, and thanks to ragdoll for being a great mod and handling my crises of confidence with grace and aplomb. I hope everyone enjoys!
"So you don't care that you're basically a slag?"
Lily Luna met her cousin's piercing gaze in the mirror, quirking one red brow in question as she unrolled her tube of lipstick. The words barely registered in her mind, going in one ear and out the other; she was long used to Rose's quick judgement and criticisms.
"Why Rosie," she drawled, using the childhood moniker that irritated her cousin to no end. "Whatever do you mean?" From behind her on the bed, Dominique snorted as she ran her brush through her long strawberry blonde hair. Giving Dom a quick wink, she leaned closer to the mirror and pressed the red stick to her lips.
Her cousin's lips pursed, and Rose crossed her arms over her chest. Glaring at Lily, she said, "Oh, don't play like that. You're not fooling any of us. You wear your sex life on your sleeve! It's a wonder Mummy and Daddy haven't noticed, let alone your parents!"
She snorted, nose crinkling when her hand veered off its course and lipstick smeared her pale skin. She reached for a tissue and damped it with her tongue, wiping the rogue color off. "Uncle Ron hasn't even noticed Hugo's gay yet, Rose. I doubt he's given much thought to my promiscuity."
"She has a point," Dominique commented idly. She gracefully rose from her seat, long limbs moving with a dancer's finesse as she snatched the bottle of Madame Rose's Curling Concoction off the dresser.
Rose shot their older cousin a dirty look. "Hugo is not gay, Dominique, and you should stop saying he is."
The elder redhead shrugged, lifting her shoulder in a Gallic shrug. "La vérité se fera jour."
"Tais-toi, Dominique!" Rose shot back, "and if you have to speak, speak English. You're English, not French."
Dominique merely smiled and puckered her lips in a kiss.
Lily Luna couldn't help but snicker as she smacked her lips together, blotting her lipstick on her tissue. She had always felt more of a connection with Dominique, despite the five year age difference between the two. With Dom, she didn't have to be someone she wasn't. Dom didn't care that Lily had the morals of an alley cat-- in fact, she was quite similar.
Rosie, though... Rosie had a stick up her arse.
"What is your problem, Rosie? That I've had more sex than you?"
Rose's lips pursed in a thin line. "No, of course not. Merlin, I'd rather not be thought of as the village broom, thank you very much."
"Oi!"
"You were probably that girl who tried to give the professor a lap dance to keep from failing," Rose sniffed, and Lily wasn't sure what her cousin thought was worse: the idea of sexual relations with a professor, or the idea of failing a class.
Lily's lips quirked in a small smirk. "Not exactly..."
*~*~*~*
NEWT level Herbology was boring. There was nothing else to it. It was supposed to be challenging; Merlin only knew her other NEWT classes were kicking her arse. But Herbology was easy--and that meant boring.
Fortunately, she had other things to focus on. Things that were tall, rugged, and handsome.
Things named Professor Longbottom.
She knew it was wrong to lust after a professor. It was supposedly doubly wrong to lust after one of your parents' closest friends, but that certainly didn't stop Lily. Professor Longbottom was a prime specimen, built in all the right places. He wasn't putting on weight around the middle like Uncle Ron, and he certainly hadn't lost some of his hair like her Dad. She knew how old he was-- forty-three, to be precise-- but he didn't look any older than his late thirties.
He was married, though that was a recent development. Hannah Abbott-Longbottom was nice enough; a little plump, a little too blonde, but he seemed happy.
But why should a little matter like a wedding ring get in the way of a good fantasy?
She could lose herself watching him. He didn't wear robes in the greenhouses, and the sleeves of his Oxford were rolled up, exposing toned forearms. It was easy-- perhaps a little too easy-- to imagine where else he might be toned...
As he droned on about Sefalup pods and the proper harvesting technique, she couldn't help but let her mind wander. Where would she seduce him? The greenhouses seemed appropriate; after all, they spent enough time there. Yes, they would do quite nicely for this little scenario.
Lily imagined kissing him. Kissing was good. Simple. He would know how to kiss, of course; much better than the Hogwarts boys she'd kissed before. He was a man, a war hero-- not a boy. She liked to imagine those strong arms around her slim waist, holding her against him as their lips explored.
In her mind, she pushed him back against the table and immediately went for his belt. She had stared at that enticing silver buckle enough times that there was no need to break the kiss; she could undo his confines with her eyes closed. He would be hard for her, straining against his trousers.
No pants. She liked that idea. It made things quicker.
She imagined dropping to her knees in front of him, licking her lips as he threaded his fingers through her red tresses. His breathing, already ragged from snogging, would taper to a long groan when she took him into her mouth.
Lily had always liked going down on her paramours. More than any other act, it gave her control of the situation, and she could strategically calculate how well a lover would perform in bed based on how long he lasted when she sucked him off.
Rosie couldn't do that, she was quite sure.
Her eyes nearly slid shut in pleasure as she imagined her fantasy becoming reality. She could practically feel Professor Longbottom's thighs tense beneath her hands, feel the way he tried not to fuck her mouth. But she wanted him to; oh, did she want him to, and she raked her teeth over his length to encourage him.
He cried out, hips bucking upwards and pushing him deeper. Lily smiled around him and let her tongue lick him, much like a cat with her cream. His grip on her hair tightened, sending a flush of pleasure through her. She liked a man who knew what he wanted.
But it couldn't last forever, and he jerked against her one last time as he came with a ragged cry. She sucked at him all the while through his orgasm, running the tip of her tongue over the crown of his member as she let him fall from her lips.
"Lily," he murmured, glancing down at her with a wicked look.
"Lily."
"Lily?"
Her eyes flew open, and her gaze instantly connected with those eyes that had just been burning with lust. In her mind, damn it all. But these eyes were concerned instead of smoldering.
"You're flushed, Lily," Professor Longbottom said, pausing in his lecture. "Are you alright? Do you want to go to the hospital wing?"
She took a deep breath, shaking off the last vestiges of her fantasy as she pushed her hair back from her forehead. Giving her professor a saucy smile, she said, "Never better, Professor."
*~*~*~*
"My god, Lily Luna Potter, tell me you did not have sex with a professor!"
Lily rolled her eyes as she sat down in front of her mirror, reaching for her wand. "No, I did not have sex with a professor, Rose. But could you yell it much louder? I'm not sure Uncle Charlie heard that in Romania."
"Lily Luna Potter? What are you, her mother?"
"I've no doubt you've some role to play in all this, Dominique," Rose said, whirling about the point an accusing finger at the other woman. "You've bewitched her with your... your French morals!"
Dominique burst out laughing, clutching her stomach as she shook with laughter. "French morals? Really? Could you sound any more nineteenth century, Rosie? I mean, come on!"
Rose was growing more and more upset the longer Dominique laughed, but Lily didn't really care. "Why am I a slag, Rosie? Because I enjoy sex? That's not a crime, and most men prefer it when their partner doesn't lie there like a cold fish. Or does Scorpius not care?"
Her cousin flushed and glared, sputtering, "My sex life is none of your business! Scorpius is a very considerate lover, not that you need to know that."
I know, Lily thought. Turning her attention to her dark red hair-- Merlin, how she envied Dominique's softer shade!-- she took her wand to a strand, wrapping it around the wood and murmuring the curling spell her Aunt Fleur had taught the girls when they were teenagers.
She felt the magic wash over her fingers, and she dropped the wand away, lips curling in satisfaction when a perfectly formed curl bounced against her shoulders. Aunt Fleur still wasn't one of her mother's favorite sisters-in-law, but she was the person to go to for beauty tips.
"So a man can sleep around all he likes, but if a woman dares to do the same, then she's a slag?" Lily asked, glancing at her cousin over her shoulder. She raised a brow at Rose's defiant expression. "You're supposed to be an educated, enlightened woman. You don't really believe that."
Rose shrugged and gave an unapologetic shrug. "It's the way things are."
"It's hypocritical and misogynistic is what it is, and I won't abide by it," Lily shot back. Her eyes narrowed at her cousin, and she whirled around to face the mirror once more. Could Rosie sound any more ignorant? Her cousin was an intelligent witch; surely she could see that it wasn't right.
"Here here, Lil," Dominique piped up with a grin. "I think we need some wine. You want?"
"Yes, please."
"No, thank you," Rose said stiffly. "You know I don't drink."
"Ton perte," the tall woman replied with a shrug, slipping out of the room with a sympathetic look towards Lily.
Lily knew that look and pointedly looked away. Of all the members of her family, she'd only told Dom what had happened. She hadn't meant for it to, but things had sort of gotten out of hand, so to speak. And she didn't intend to repeat that scenario with her cousin's fiancé, no matter how good he was at fucking.
*~*~*~*
It was the vodka.
The root of all bad decisions in Lily Luna's twenty years of life could be traced back to vodka. She much preferred firewhiskey, but Muggle clubs didn't carry the stuff. More than any other illicit substance, vodka had the distinct ability to render her drunk in half the time it took whiskey, and it was the only drink that was guaranteed to leave her with a hangover the next morning.
She'd only had one drink, but she could already feel the pleasant buzz flowing through her veins.
Or maybe that was because a man had his hand beneath her dress.
Lily Luna gasped when she felt two long fingers slip beneath her silky knickers, tracing the edge of her sex. The leg that was wrapped around his waist tightened its hold, and her hands slid up to grasp his fine blonde hair. "What if someone comes in?" she breathed even as she pressed tighter against him, not caring about his answer.
She felt Scorpius smirk against her neck as he pressed his fingers into her waiting heat. "Doesn't feel wrong," he murmured, hand withdrawing only to plunge back into her, coaxing a gasp from her lips. "God, you're so wet."
And she was. Scorpius was attractive; blonde, a bit too pointy for her usual tastes, but he was still fit from Quidditch. Lily had always liked the build of Quidditch players, especially seekers. Of course, so had Rosie, and she'd landed Scorpius before Lily had ever really considered him.
She didn't understand it. She saw the way Rosie held herself at a distance from her boyfriend, barely allowing a hint of affection to ever be displayed publicly. Lily didn't see how she could be so cold with someone so, so... hot.
If Scorpius Malfoy were her boyfriend, she'd be all but attached to him at the hip. Preferably on his lap.
Not that she wanted a boyfriend. That was the furthest thing from her mind, really.
But he wasn't Rosie's anymore. Not right now, at least. They were on a 'break,' whatever the bloody hell that meant. And when Lily had seen him at the bar, all tailored shirt and tight denims--well, she just hadn't been able to stop herself from saying hello.
'Hello' had led here, to a back corridor at the Ministry of Sound. The blaring music was muffled, but the bass still pounded through the walls as Scorpius pressed his thumb to her swollen little nub. His finger continued to twist in and out of her, opening her up, as his lips traced a path over her chest.
Little hands tightened their grip on his hair, and Lily let out a keen of disappointment when she felt his hand slip away from her body. That disappointment was short lived, though, when he dropped to his knees. The smirk on his face was devilish, and her body quivered in anticipation.
Her knickers bit into her flesh when he pulled, resisting before the fabric gave way and tore with a loud 'rip.' And then his tongue was between her legs and "Ohgodpleasedontstop," poured from her lips. Fuck, Malfoy was bloody good at this, slipping in a finger to join in the ministrations. This was wrong, this was so so wrong, but she wasn't going to stop him for a million Galleons.
She cried out his name when her orgasm crashed over her, throwing her head back in pleasure. Little spasms racked her body, robbing her of her strength, and one hand let go of his blonde locks to grasp the tiled wall behind her. "God, Malfoy," she murmured, casting hooded eyes down at him, "get up here and fuck me."
*~*~*~*
Lily's face was hot as the memory faded, falling back into the recesses of her mind as quickly as it had originally arrived. She still felt bad about that-- most of the time. When Rosie was being particularly snobbish, it was easier to forget that she cared. And she wouldn't sleep with a cousin's fiancé. Not again.
"Stop giving me your judging eyes," she told her cousin, meeting Rose's gaze quickly before glancing away. Her red lacquered nails fingered the mask sitting atop her dressing table, tracing the lace that outlined the golden fabric.
"I'm not giving you judging anything, Lily," Rose snipped defensively. It was blatantly obvious, even to one not schooled in Rose-isms, that she in fact had been mentally judging her cousin.
The village broom, my arse, Lily grumped internally. It was perfectly acceptable for James to run around chasing skirts, and even Al had crept home in the early morning with lipstick on his collar. But how dare Lily enjoy herself with a man? That would be too whorish.
"Back, and with wine!" Dominique announced cheerfully, breezing into the room in a whirl of red curls and turquoise silk. She set a glass of pinot grigo down next to Lily's mask, giving her cousin a saucy, conspiratorial wink before she turned and extended a bottle to Rose. "Pumpkin juice alright?"
Rose managed a small, tight smile. "Thank you," she said and took the bottle, taking a small sip.
"So, Lils, any of your former beaus going to be at tonight's ball?" Dominique asked, settling back down on the bed. "Besides Liam, though I don't know if you'd call him a former lover or not..."
"Oh, he's not a former," Lily said with a wicked smile before she raised her glass in a toast to her cousin. She took a sip of the chilled wine, letting it trickle down her throat. She quirked her head to the side, thinking. "Off the top of my head, I'm not sure. Carter Vaisey might be there... oh, and Sean Ackerely, too."
"What about Cormac?"
Lily grinned at Dominque's mischievous tone, and she tossed her red hair over her shoulder as she turned, glancing back at her cousin. "Why, Mademoiselle Weasley, I know not who you speak of."
"Who's Cormac?" Rose asked, glancing back and forth between her cousins.
"Deputy Undersecretary for Magical Law Enforcement," Dominique answered lightly, taking a sip of her own wine.
Rose nearly choked up her pumpkin juice, and her eyes were watering as she wheezed for breath. "Not-" she gasped, coughing to clear her throat, "Cormac McLaggen?"
"Is there another Deputy Undersecretary in the MLE named Cormac?" Lily asked peevishly. Glaring at her cousin, doubled over in pain-- fine, let her choke-- Lily spun around and reached for her eyeshadow.
"Lily Luna, he's as old as our parents!" Rose exclaimed, her blue eyes wide. "Dad... Dad hates him!"
"He's actually a year older than our parents," Lily replied idly, running a brush over her eyelid. "What difference does it make?"
"It's disgusting, that's what it is!"
Lily sighed. "Oh, Rosie..."
*~*~*~*
Cormac was her first divorcée.
It wasn't as if she'd set out to land a high ranking Ministry official. But he'd caught her eye at the annual MLE Christmas party-- Dad insisted the entire family suffer along with him, so they always went-- and she'd been unable to get him out of her head. He was tall, and even though his sandy blonde hair was lightly streaked with gray, he was still quite fit.
He was handsome, charming, and business savvy. He didn't see her as Harry Potter's little girl, as the rest of the world did. He saw her as a woman worth pursuing in her own right. There were no bones about their relationship; he wanted a warm body in his bed without having to deal with emotional attachment, and she got orgasms.
Good orgasms. Those were hard to come by with men her age.
Cormac liked to dress her up. Little satin corsets, garter belts, thigh-high fishnet stockings... he liked the exquisite torture of unlacing her slowly, of watching the fitted bodice fall to the floor to reveal her bare skin beneath it. Long fingers traced the red marks left in her skin before he followed them with his tongue.
But tonight her corset remained on. Lily couldn't see him moving behind her; she was facing the headboard, and her wrists were tied to the bedposts on either side of her. A silk blindfold was tied over her eyes, depriving her of sight but heightening her other senses. Already her body was quivering in anticipation, ready for all that Cormac could give her.
She heard him move behind her, felt the dip of the bed underneath his weight, and she nearly keened when his hand slid beneath the delicate ties holding her knickers up. The juncture between her legs was soaked, and she was sure he could see it when he chuckled, the sound low and deep in his throat.
"Patience, Lily," he murmured smoothly. She felt her knickers fall away from her body, and she strained against her bonds, moaning when he slipped one finger into her waiting sex. Slowly, agonizingly so, he began to run his finger along her swollen nether lips, tracing a figure eight from her opening to her throbbing nub.
Lily pushed her hips back against his hand, panting for more. "God, Cormac, please," she breathed, letting her head fall back as she spread her legs wider for his touch.
He chuckled again and withdrew his hand, and her body mourned the absence of his touch for a spare second before something much more substantial than his hand pressed between her legs.
"Oh yes," she moaned as he filled her, her back arching in pleasure. With her eyes covered, she swore she could feel every single sensation; the silk fibers of the scarves binding her to the bed, the slap of skin against her arse whenever Cormac thrust into her, the trickle of sweat dripping down her back.
It was sensory overload, and it was too much for her to handle. Crying out, Lily tensed as her orgasm crashed over her, pushing back to meet his thrust one final time. Cormac was still hard and moving within her, and her body was helpless to do anything but accept him again and again.
She knew that would not be her final orgasm that night.
*~*~*~*
"Don't 'oh Rosie' me," Rose said with an irritable glare, blue eyes bright on her younger cousin. "He's what, fifty-four?"
"He was fifty at the time, and does it matter?" Lily asked, meeting Rose's gaze with a glare just as heated as her judgmental cousin's. "It was a fling, it lasted six months, and it's over. We haven't fucked in over three years, so could you please just drop it?"
"But he's going to be at the ball!"
"Rose!" Lily turned and stood, her dress swishing about her feet as she planted her hands on her hips and fixed the other girl with a dark look. "Just because he's going to be at the ball does not mean I'm going to fuck him against the wall in front of all our family and friends! I like sex. So bloody what? I'm not a whore, no matter what you might think, and I do have some morals."
"I never said you were a whore, Lily," Rose said stiffly.
"Maybe not out loud, but every word you've said, every look you've given me, says it just as loud as it would if you had said it to my face," Lily said in a soft tone, letting the hurt creep into her words.
Dominique-- blessed Dominique-- rose and laid her hand on Rose's shoulder. "Come on," she said softly. "Let's go find your mask and get you off to Scorpius before he comes looking for you, alright?"
Rose hesitated. "Lily, I-"
"Just go," Lily muttered, waving her hand at the pair as she turned back to her dressing table. Dammit, she would not let Rosie see her cry. She would not let her cousin see that she was hurt by her judgement.
She heard the door close and she glanced out, exhaling in relief when she was finally alone. If Rosie knew what she'd done, if Dominique knew what she'd done, then neither of them would ever be able to forgive her. She was used to the looks Rosie shot her way, the thinly veiled judgement written in her blue eyes, but Dom had always been her stalwart defender. But if Dominique knew what had happened with her brother-in-law, that would disappear in a heartbeat.
And Lily deserved it.
*~*~*~*
"This is wrong."
"I don't care," Lily breathed in the minute space between their lips, arms twined around her lover's neck. It was wrong, but that didn't stop her from wrapping her leg around his waist to draw him closer, the heel of one shoe pressing into the back of his thigh. He said this was wrong, but she could feel his arousal pressing against her soft stomach, could feel the tension in his arms as they circled tight around her.
They were drunk. Would that be a plausible excuse in the morning?
Probably not.
But this was Teddy. Teddy Lupin, who'd been in and out of the Potter's house for as long as Lily could remember. Teddy Lupin, the boy she'd watch grow from a gangly, clumsy boy with color-changing hair to a lean, fit man. The first boy she'd ever loved, the only boy she'd dreamed of kissing until she was fifteen.
She shouldn't be seducing him. He was Victoire's, always had been, and she was under no illusions that one night with her would change that. Her cousin wore his ring; Lily was in her wedding, for Merlin's sake!
But she couldn't pretend that she didn't want this. Ignoring that wouldn't change the fact that she had dreamed of what it'd be like to kiss Teddy, to touch Teddy. This was wrong, but she wasn't going to pass her one chance to be with him.
To fuck him.
"Oh fuck," he whispered against his lips, and she knew that he was hers.
It was all a blur, clothes falling to the wayside as they undressed one another. Quicker than Lily would have liked, they were naked and collapsed in a pile of limbs on top of Teddy's sofa. Her legs were wrapped tight around his waist, and his hands cupped and tweaked her breasts as their hips moved together.
"God, Lily," he gasped, thrusts picking up in speed as he ploughed into her soft body over and over again. She couldn't manage a response, but her nails dug into his broad back. She could feel the familiar tightening low in her belly, and her release came almost as swiftly as she'd felt it creep up on her.
Teddy's body was heavy on top of hers as he slumped against her. Her fingers loosened their grip on him, the tips tracing lightly over the crescent moon indentations left by her nails. She would hate herself in the morning-- they both would. But for now? She just wanted to pretend that Teddy was hers.
*~*~*~*
Fucking Teddy was probably the biggest regret of Lily Luna's short twenty-three years of life. Before, he had been like a brother to her. Their relationship had been easy, with no baggage. Now, he could barely stand to be in the same room with her. They'd never spoken of that night again, and with Teddy and Victoire happily married and expecting a baby soon, that wasn't going to change.
Maybe Rosie was right. Maybe she was a slag.
She almost didn't hear the door open again.
"You know she doesn't mean it, Lil," Dominique said softly from behind her.
Lily glanced up to meet her cousin's gaze in the mirror, managing a wry twitch of her lips. "Yes, she does," she said softly, lifting her shoulder in a shrug. "Rosie sees the world in black and white. I live in shades of gray."
"Which is how you should." The taller woman pushed off the door and went to settle back down on the bed, arranging her skirts tastefully around her long legs. Glancing up at Lily, her brow furrowed slightly in concern. "She doesn't... she doesn't know, right?"
"No." Lily looked away and reached for her mask. She held the gold material delicately in her hands, her brown gaze intent on the intricate detailing that traced out on the fabric. "You know she doesn't. If she did, the entire world would know."
"It was a mistake, you were nineteen, and it only happened once," Dominique said firmly. "You can't carry around that guilt for the rest of your life."
Can't I? "You know, there are times I want to tell her," Lily replied. Glancing over her shoulder, her eyes found her cousin's. "But then, she looks at me like I'm such a harlot, and... I don't know, I'm afraid she'll go and tell her parents. Or my parents. I mean, I'm a grown woman, I know that. But..." she glanced down at her mask and took a breath. "I don't want to hurt Daddy like that."
Dominique smiled sadly and nodded. "I know, Lils."
Exhaling loudly, Lily shook her head-- mentally shaking off the reverie she'd fallen into. "But you know, next time she starts her little judgmental ramble, I might just let it slip that I slept with her father-in-law." If Rosie had nearly passed out at the thought of Lily shagging Cormac McLaggen, she would die if she knew what else Rose had done.
Or who else, rather.
Her demi-French cousin grinned wickedly and stood, grabbing her own mask from Lily's bookshelf. "That's my girl." Spritzing on a dash of Lily's perfume, she gave her cousin a wink. "It's Halloween, my dear. The moon is full, the men are waiting, and we are going to have a night to remember. Don't leave me waiting too long, or I'll take all the good ones before you arrive."
Lily snorted and gave a negligent little wave. "Off with you, you French hussy. Make sure to leave me a man or two."
"Liam Finnigan is all yours," Dominique teased on her way out the door. "Don't be long!"
Liam Finnigan was all hers, Lily mused as the door shut behind Dominique, unlike most of the men that she'd slept with. He was handsome, fun, and witty, and Lily was quite taken with him. And he wasn't married-- unlike her last conquest.
*~*~*~*
Long, aristocratic fingers dug into Lily's hips, holding her tight as she undulated on top of him. It should have been awkward, the angle of their joining, but arousal flowed through her so strong that she felt near boneless. Her skin jumped, and her thighs quivered when one hand slid over her hipbone and down across her lower stomach, seeking out her sex.
"Oh god," she moaned, letting her head fall back to rest on his shoulder. One hour and three orgasms in, and Lily was seriously considering throwing it all away to become Draco Malfoy's secret mistress.
They hadn't even made it to the bedroom; she was naked, spread out on his lap as her fingertips grasped the velvet arms on either side of his imposing chair. The light from the nearby fire cast shadows on her body, flickering shadows across her pale body.
He pinched her swollen nub, and she felt him smirk against her neck when her hips jerked in response. "So sensitive," he murmured. His other hand traced over her side, leaving goose flesh in its wake as it traveled up towards her aching breast. Lily nearly sighed in pleasure when he pressed his palm against her nipple, rubbing it just so.
Simultaneously, he tweaked her nipple and her clitoris, drawing a gasp from her kiss-swollen lips. "Move for me, little Lily," he breathed, his finger falling into a rhythm with the movement of her hips. Down-stroke, stroke, down-stroke, stroke; her body felt almost drugged. Her hair felt heavy against her bare back, she could feel every slide of velvet against the backs of her calves, could feel his zipper pressing into her arse when she pushed back against him.
Draco smirked as her face turned blindly to his, capturing her lips in a slow, languid kiss. This time was different than their previous couplings; it was slower, the desire simmering. But even as slow as the passion crept over her, it was growing hotter and hotter with each passing second.
"Come," he commanded, nipping at her lower lip.
Lily was helpless to do anything but obey, and she cried out, "Draco!" as her back bowed in pleasure. She felt him tense behind her, then sigh when he spilled his seed within her quivering body. Panting, she fell back against him and let her eyes fall shut as she enjoyed the heavy, sated sensations thrumming through her veins.
Yes, being Draco Malfoy's secret mistress sounded like a noble profession indeed.
*~*~*~*
The apple hadn't really fallen far from the tree, at least as far as the Malfoy's were concerned. Even with Rosie's cold fish ways, she had managed to land a fiancé who knew how to fuck. Lily had really preferred Draco's long-lasting endurance to Scorpius' teenage enthusiasm, but to each their own, she supposed.
Of course, the double standard might not apply to her. She was sure that if James slept around with Fred's girl, he wouldn't be congratulated; Fred would beat the bloody shite out of her brother. But Lily had far more sex with non-attached men than she did with attached, so perhaps it was a wash.
Or maybe she really was a slag. She enjoyed sex, had no qualms about sleeping around, and monogamy really wasn't her thing. But if that was all that it took, then she would wear her scarlet letter with pride.
Lily stood and gave herself one last glance in the mirror. She adjusted her breasts, making sure they pressed enticingly against her tight bodice. Her makeup was perfect, her red hair curled and artfully tousled over one pale shoulder. She looked like a bloody harlot.
But it was Halloween. For one night, she could at least own up to it.
Author: Leigh, aka leigh_adams
Pairings: Cormac McLaggen/Lily Luna Potter, Draco Malfoy/Lily Luna Potter, Neville Longbottom/Lily Luna Potter, Scorpius Malfoy/Lily Luna, Teddy Lupin/Lily Luna Potter
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~5,300
Summary It's the age-old double standard: men can sleep around, but if women do the same, they're considered slags. Lily Luna has a problem with that.
Warnings/Content: Infidelity, implied relations between teacher and student (though said student is of age), and lots and lots of smut
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is JKR’s. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.
Author's notes: Written for the 2011 round at samhain_smut. This story gave me a lot of issues. Looking back, I'm really not sure what I was thinking when I chose this prompt, but I gave it the best I could, and I really hope you all enjoy. Many thanks to fiery_flamingo, my wonderful beta who isn't the biggest smut fan in the world, and thanks to ragdoll for being a great mod and handling my crises of confidence with grace and aplomb. I hope everyone enjoys!
"So you don't care that you're basically a slag?"
Lily Luna met her cousin's piercing gaze in the mirror, quirking one red brow in question as she unrolled her tube of lipstick. The words barely registered in her mind, going in one ear and out the other; she was long used to Rose's quick judgement and criticisms.
"Why Rosie," she drawled, using the childhood moniker that irritated her cousin to no end. "Whatever do you mean?" From behind her on the bed, Dominique snorted as she ran her brush through her long strawberry blonde hair. Giving Dom a quick wink, she leaned closer to the mirror and pressed the red stick to her lips.
Her cousin's lips pursed, and Rose crossed her arms over her chest. Glaring at Lily, she said, "Oh, don't play like that. You're not fooling any of us. You wear your sex life on your sleeve! It's a wonder Mummy and Daddy haven't noticed, let alone your parents!"
She snorted, nose crinkling when her hand veered off its course and lipstick smeared her pale skin. She reached for a tissue and damped it with her tongue, wiping the rogue color off. "Uncle Ron hasn't even noticed Hugo's gay yet, Rose. I doubt he's given much thought to my promiscuity."
"She has a point," Dominique commented idly. She gracefully rose from her seat, long limbs moving with a dancer's finesse as she snatched the bottle of Madame Rose's Curling Concoction off the dresser.
Rose shot their older cousin a dirty look. "Hugo is not gay, Dominique, and you should stop saying he is."
The elder redhead shrugged, lifting her shoulder in a Gallic shrug. "La vérité se fera jour."
"Tais-toi, Dominique!" Rose shot back, "and if you have to speak, speak English. You're English, not French."
Dominique merely smiled and puckered her lips in a kiss.
Lily Luna couldn't help but snicker as she smacked her lips together, blotting her lipstick on her tissue. She had always felt more of a connection with Dominique, despite the five year age difference between the two. With Dom, she didn't have to be someone she wasn't. Dom didn't care that Lily had the morals of an alley cat-- in fact, she was quite similar.
Rosie, though... Rosie had a stick up her arse.
"What is your problem, Rosie? That I've had more sex than you?"
Rose's lips pursed in a thin line. "No, of course not. Merlin, I'd rather not be thought of as the village broom, thank you very much."
"Oi!"
"You were probably that girl who tried to give the professor a lap dance to keep from failing," Rose sniffed, and Lily wasn't sure what her cousin thought was worse: the idea of sexual relations with a professor, or the idea of failing a class.
Lily's lips quirked in a small smirk. "Not exactly..."
*~*~*~*
NEWT level Herbology was boring. There was nothing else to it. It was supposed to be challenging; Merlin only knew her other NEWT classes were kicking her arse. But Herbology was easy--and that meant boring.
Fortunately, she had other things to focus on. Things that were tall, rugged, and handsome.
Things named Professor Longbottom.
She knew it was wrong to lust after a professor. It was supposedly doubly wrong to lust after one of your parents' closest friends, but that certainly didn't stop Lily. Professor Longbottom was a prime specimen, built in all the right places. He wasn't putting on weight around the middle like Uncle Ron, and he certainly hadn't lost some of his hair like her Dad. She knew how old he was-- forty-three, to be precise-- but he didn't look any older than his late thirties.
He was married, though that was a recent development. Hannah Abbott-Longbottom was nice enough; a little plump, a little too blonde, but he seemed happy.
But why should a little matter like a wedding ring get in the way of a good fantasy?
She could lose herself watching him. He didn't wear robes in the greenhouses, and the sleeves of his Oxford were rolled up, exposing toned forearms. It was easy-- perhaps a little too easy-- to imagine where else he might be toned...
As he droned on about Sefalup pods and the proper harvesting technique, she couldn't help but let her mind wander. Where would she seduce him? The greenhouses seemed appropriate; after all, they spent enough time there. Yes, they would do quite nicely for this little scenario.
Lily imagined kissing him. Kissing was good. Simple. He would know how to kiss, of course; much better than the Hogwarts boys she'd kissed before. He was a man, a war hero-- not a boy. She liked to imagine those strong arms around her slim waist, holding her against him as their lips explored.
In her mind, she pushed him back against the table and immediately went for his belt. She had stared at that enticing silver buckle enough times that there was no need to break the kiss; she could undo his confines with her eyes closed. He would be hard for her, straining against his trousers.
No pants. She liked that idea. It made things quicker.
She imagined dropping to her knees in front of him, licking her lips as he threaded his fingers through her red tresses. His breathing, already ragged from snogging, would taper to a long groan when she took him into her mouth.
Lily had always liked going down on her paramours. More than any other act, it gave her control of the situation, and she could strategically calculate how well a lover would perform in bed based on how long he lasted when she sucked him off.
Rosie couldn't do that, she was quite sure.
Her eyes nearly slid shut in pleasure as she imagined her fantasy becoming reality. She could practically feel Professor Longbottom's thighs tense beneath her hands, feel the way he tried not to fuck her mouth. But she wanted him to; oh, did she want him to, and she raked her teeth over his length to encourage him.
He cried out, hips bucking upwards and pushing him deeper. Lily smiled around him and let her tongue lick him, much like a cat with her cream. His grip on her hair tightened, sending a flush of pleasure through her. She liked a man who knew what he wanted.
But it couldn't last forever, and he jerked against her one last time as he came with a ragged cry. She sucked at him all the while through his orgasm, running the tip of her tongue over the crown of his member as she let him fall from her lips.
"Lily," he murmured, glancing down at her with a wicked look.
"Lily."
"Lily?"
Her eyes flew open, and her gaze instantly connected with those eyes that had just been burning with lust. In her mind, damn it all. But these eyes were concerned instead of smoldering.
"You're flushed, Lily," Professor Longbottom said, pausing in his lecture. "Are you alright? Do you want to go to the hospital wing?"
She took a deep breath, shaking off the last vestiges of her fantasy as she pushed her hair back from her forehead. Giving her professor a saucy smile, she said, "Never better, Professor."
*~*~*~*
"My god, Lily Luna Potter, tell me you did not have sex with a professor!"
Lily rolled her eyes as she sat down in front of her mirror, reaching for her wand. "No, I did not have sex with a professor, Rose. But could you yell it much louder? I'm not sure Uncle Charlie heard that in Romania."
"Lily Luna Potter? What are you, her mother?"
"I've no doubt you've some role to play in all this, Dominique," Rose said, whirling about the point an accusing finger at the other woman. "You've bewitched her with your... your French morals!"
Dominique burst out laughing, clutching her stomach as she shook with laughter. "French morals? Really? Could you sound any more nineteenth century, Rosie? I mean, come on!"
Rose was growing more and more upset the longer Dominique laughed, but Lily didn't really care. "Why am I a slag, Rosie? Because I enjoy sex? That's not a crime, and most men prefer it when their partner doesn't lie there like a cold fish. Or does Scorpius not care?"
Her cousin flushed and glared, sputtering, "My sex life is none of your business! Scorpius is a very considerate lover, not that you need to know that."
I know, Lily thought. Turning her attention to her dark red hair-- Merlin, how she envied Dominique's softer shade!-- she took her wand to a strand, wrapping it around the wood and murmuring the curling spell her Aunt Fleur had taught the girls when they were teenagers.
She felt the magic wash over her fingers, and she dropped the wand away, lips curling in satisfaction when a perfectly formed curl bounced against her shoulders. Aunt Fleur still wasn't one of her mother's favorite sisters-in-law, but she was the person to go to for beauty tips.
"So a man can sleep around all he likes, but if a woman dares to do the same, then she's a slag?" Lily asked, glancing at her cousin over her shoulder. She raised a brow at Rose's defiant expression. "You're supposed to be an educated, enlightened woman. You don't really believe that."
Rose shrugged and gave an unapologetic shrug. "It's the way things are."
"It's hypocritical and misogynistic is what it is, and I won't abide by it," Lily shot back. Her eyes narrowed at her cousin, and she whirled around to face the mirror once more. Could Rosie sound any more ignorant? Her cousin was an intelligent witch; surely she could see that it wasn't right.
"Here here, Lil," Dominique piped up with a grin. "I think we need some wine. You want?"
"Yes, please."
"No, thank you," Rose said stiffly. "You know I don't drink."
"Ton perte," the tall woman replied with a shrug, slipping out of the room with a sympathetic look towards Lily.
Lily knew that look and pointedly looked away. Of all the members of her family, she'd only told Dom what had happened. She hadn't meant for it to, but things had sort of gotten out of hand, so to speak. And she didn't intend to repeat that scenario with her cousin's fiancé, no matter how good he was at fucking.
*~*~*~*
It was the vodka.
The root of all bad decisions in Lily Luna's twenty years of life could be traced back to vodka. She much preferred firewhiskey, but Muggle clubs didn't carry the stuff. More than any other illicit substance, vodka had the distinct ability to render her drunk in half the time it took whiskey, and it was the only drink that was guaranteed to leave her with a hangover the next morning.
She'd only had one drink, but she could already feel the pleasant buzz flowing through her veins.
Or maybe that was because a man had his hand beneath her dress.
Lily Luna gasped when she felt two long fingers slip beneath her silky knickers, tracing the edge of her sex. The leg that was wrapped around his waist tightened its hold, and her hands slid up to grasp his fine blonde hair. "What if someone comes in?" she breathed even as she pressed tighter against him, not caring about his answer.
She felt Scorpius smirk against her neck as he pressed his fingers into her waiting heat. "Doesn't feel wrong," he murmured, hand withdrawing only to plunge back into her, coaxing a gasp from her lips. "God, you're so wet."
And she was. Scorpius was attractive; blonde, a bit too pointy for her usual tastes, but he was still fit from Quidditch. Lily had always liked the build of Quidditch players, especially seekers. Of course, so had Rosie, and she'd landed Scorpius before Lily had ever really considered him.
She didn't understand it. She saw the way Rosie held herself at a distance from her boyfriend, barely allowing a hint of affection to ever be displayed publicly. Lily didn't see how she could be so cold with someone so, so... hot.
If Scorpius Malfoy were her boyfriend, she'd be all but attached to him at the hip. Preferably on his lap.
Not that she wanted a boyfriend. That was the furthest thing from her mind, really.
But he wasn't Rosie's anymore. Not right now, at least. They were on a 'break,' whatever the bloody hell that meant. And when Lily had seen him at the bar, all tailored shirt and tight denims--well, she just hadn't been able to stop herself from saying hello.
'Hello' had led here, to a back corridor at the Ministry of Sound. The blaring music was muffled, but the bass still pounded through the walls as Scorpius pressed his thumb to her swollen little nub. His finger continued to twist in and out of her, opening her up, as his lips traced a path over her chest.
Little hands tightened their grip on his hair, and Lily let out a keen of disappointment when she felt his hand slip away from her body. That disappointment was short lived, though, when he dropped to his knees. The smirk on his face was devilish, and her body quivered in anticipation.
Her knickers bit into her flesh when he pulled, resisting before the fabric gave way and tore with a loud 'rip.' And then his tongue was between her legs and "Ohgodpleasedontstop," poured from her lips. Fuck, Malfoy was bloody good at this, slipping in a finger to join in the ministrations. This was wrong, this was so so wrong, but she wasn't going to stop him for a million Galleons.
She cried out his name when her orgasm crashed over her, throwing her head back in pleasure. Little spasms racked her body, robbing her of her strength, and one hand let go of his blonde locks to grasp the tiled wall behind her. "God, Malfoy," she murmured, casting hooded eyes down at him, "get up here and fuck me."
*~*~*~*
Lily's face was hot as the memory faded, falling back into the recesses of her mind as quickly as it had originally arrived. She still felt bad about that-- most of the time. When Rosie was being particularly snobbish, it was easier to forget that she cared. And she wouldn't sleep with a cousin's fiancé. Not again.
"Stop giving me your judging eyes," she told her cousin, meeting Rose's gaze quickly before glancing away. Her red lacquered nails fingered the mask sitting atop her dressing table, tracing the lace that outlined the golden fabric.
"I'm not giving you judging anything, Lily," Rose snipped defensively. It was blatantly obvious, even to one not schooled in Rose-isms, that she in fact had been mentally judging her cousin.
The village broom, my arse, Lily grumped internally. It was perfectly acceptable for James to run around chasing skirts, and even Al had crept home in the early morning with lipstick on his collar. But how dare Lily enjoy herself with a man? That would be too whorish.
"Back, and with wine!" Dominique announced cheerfully, breezing into the room in a whirl of red curls and turquoise silk. She set a glass of pinot grigo down next to Lily's mask, giving her cousin a saucy, conspiratorial wink before she turned and extended a bottle to Rose. "Pumpkin juice alright?"
Rose managed a small, tight smile. "Thank you," she said and took the bottle, taking a small sip.
"So, Lils, any of your former beaus going to be at tonight's ball?" Dominique asked, settling back down on the bed. "Besides Liam, though I don't know if you'd call him a former lover or not..."
"Oh, he's not a former," Lily said with a wicked smile before she raised her glass in a toast to her cousin. She took a sip of the chilled wine, letting it trickle down her throat. She quirked her head to the side, thinking. "Off the top of my head, I'm not sure. Carter Vaisey might be there... oh, and Sean Ackerely, too."
"What about Cormac?"
Lily grinned at Dominque's mischievous tone, and she tossed her red hair over her shoulder as she turned, glancing back at her cousin. "Why, Mademoiselle Weasley, I know not who you speak of."
"Who's Cormac?" Rose asked, glancing back and forth between her cousins.
"Deputy Undersecretary for Magical Law Enforcement," Dominique answered lightly, taking a sip of her own wine.
Rose nearly choked up her pumpkin juice, and her eyes were watering as she wheezed for breath. "Not-" she gasped, coughing to clear her throat, "Cormac McLaggen?"
"Is there another Deputy Undersecretary in the MLE named Cormac?" Lily asked peevishly. Glaring at her cousin, doubled over in pain-- fine, let her choke-- Lily spun around and reached for her eyeshadow.
"Lily Luna, he's as old as our parents!" Rose exclaimed, her blue eyes wide. "Dad... Dad hates him!"
"He's actually a year older than our parents," Lily replied idly, running a brush over her eyelid. "What difference does it make?"
"It's disgusting, that's what it is!"
Lily sighed. "Oh, Rosie..."
*~*~*~*
Cormac was her first divorcée.
It wasn't as if she'd set out to land a high ranking Ministry official. But he'd caught her eye at the annual MLE Christmas party-- Dad insisted the entire family suffer along with him, so they always went-- and she'd been unable to get him out of her head. He was tall, and even though his sandy blonde hair was lightly streaked with gray, he was still quite fit.
He was handsome, charming, and business savvy. He didn't see her as Harry Potter's little girl, as the rest of the world did. He saw her as a woman worth pursuing in her own right. There were no bones about their relationship; he wanted a warm body in his bed without having to deal with emotional attachment, and she got orgasms.
Good orgasms. Those were hard to come by with men her age.
Cormac liked to dress her up. Little satin corsets, garter belts, thigh-high fishnet stockings... he liked the exquisite torture of unlacing her slowly, of watching the fitted bodice fall to the floor to reveal her bare skin beneath it. Long fingers traced the red marks left in her skin before he followed them with his tongue.
But tonight her corset remained on. Lily couldn't see him moving behind her; she was facing the headboard, and her wrists were tied to the bedposts on either side of her. A silk blindfold was tied over her eyes, depriving her of sight but heightening her other senses. Already her body was quivering in anticipation, ready for all that Cormac could give her.
She heard him move behind her, felt the dip of the bed underneath his weight, and she nearly keened when his hand slid beneath the delicate ties holding her knickers up. The juncture between her legs was soaked, and she was sure he could see it when he chuckled, the sound low and deep in his throat.
"Patience, Lily," he murmured smoothly. She felt her knickers fall away from her body, and she strained against her bonds, moaning when he slipped one finger into her waiting sex. Slowly, agonizingly so, he began to run his finger along her swollen nether lips, tracing a figure eight from her opening to her throbbing nub.
Lily pushed her hips back against his hand, panting for more. "God, Cormac, please," she breathed, letting her head fall back as she spread her legs wider for his touch.
He chuckled again and withdrew his hand, and her body mourned the absence of his touch for a spare second before something much more substantial than his hand pressed between her legs.
"Oh yes," she moaned as he filled her, her back arching in pleasure. With her eyes covered, she swore she could feel every single sensation; the silk fibers of the scarves binding her to the bed, the slap of skin against her arse whenever Cormac thrust into her, the trickle of sweat dripping down her back.
It was sensory overload, and it was too much for her to handle. Crying out, Lily tensed as her orgasm crashed over her, pushing back to meet his thrust one final time. Cormac was still hard and moving within her, and her body was helpless to do anything but accept him again and again.
She knew that would not be her final orgasm that night.
*~*~*~*
"Don't 'oh Rosie' me," Rose said with an irritable glare, blue eyes bright on her younger cousin. "He's what, fifty-four?"
"He was fifty at the time, and does it matter?" Lily asked, meeting Rose's gaze with a glare just as heated as her judgmental cousin's. "It was a fling, it lasted six months, and it's over. We haven't fucked in over three years, so could you please just drop it?"
"But he's going to be at the ball!"
"Rose!" Lily turned and stood, her dress swishing about her feet as she planted her hands on her hips and fixed the other girl with a dark look. "Just because he's going to be at the ball does not mean I'm going to fuck him against the wall in front of all our family and friends! I like sex. So bloody what? I'm not a whore, no matter what you might think, and I do have some morals."
"I never said you were a whore, Lily," Rose said stiffly.
"Maybe not out loud, but every word you've said, every look you've given me, says it just as loud as it would if you had said it to my face," Lily said in a soft tone, letting the hurt creep into her words.
Dominique-- blessed Dominique-- rose and laid her hand on Rose's shoulder. "Come on," she said softly. "Let's go find your mask and get you off to Scorpius before he comes looking for you, alright?"
Rose hesitated. "Lily, I-"
"Just go," Lily muttered, waving her hand at the pair as she turned back to her dressing table. Dammit, she would not let Rosie see her cry. She would not let her cousin see that she was hurt by her judgement.
She heard the door close and she glanced out, exhaling in relief when she was finally alone. If Rosie knew what she'd done, if Dominique knew what she'd done, then neither of them would ever be able to forgive her. She was used to the looks Rosie shot her way, the thinly veiled judgement written in her blue eyes, but Dom had always been her stalwart defender. But if Dominique knew what had happened with her brother-in-law, that would disappear in a heartbeat.
And Lily deserved it.
*~*~*~*
"This is wrong."
"I don't care," Lily breathed in the minute space between their lips, arms twined around her lover's neck. It was wrong, but that didn't stop her from wrapping her leg around his waist to draw him closer, the heel of one shoe pressing into the back of his thigh. He said this was wrong, but she could feel his arousal pressing against her soft stomach, could feel the tension in his arms as they circled tight around her.
They were drunk. Would that be a plausible excuse in the morning?
Probably not.
But this was Teddy. Teddy Lupin, who'd been in and out of the Potter's house for as long as Lily could remember. Teddy Lupin, the boy she'd watch grow from a gangly, clumsy boy with color-changing hair to a lean, fit man. The first boy she'd ever loved, the only boy she'd dreamed of kissing until she was fifteen.
She shouldn't be seducing him. He was Victoire's, always had been, and she was under no illusions that one night with her would change that. Her cousin wore his ring; Lily was in her wedding, for Merlin's sake!
But she couldn't pretend that she didn't want this. Ignoring that wouldn't change the fact that she had dreamed of what it'd be like to kiss Teddy, to touch Teddy. This was wrong, but she wasn't going to pass her one chance to be with him.
To fuck him.
"Oh fuck," he whispered against his lips, and she knew that he was hers.
It was all a blur, clothes falling to the wayside as they undressed one another. Quicker than Lily would have liked, they were naked and collapsed in a pile of limbs on top of Teddy's sofa. Her legs were wrapped tight around his waist, and his hands cupped and tweaked her breasts as their hips moved together.
"God, Lily," he gasped, thrusts picking up in speed as he ploughed into her soft body over and over again. She couldn't manage a response, but her nails dug into his broad back. She could feel the familiar tightening low in her belly, and her release came almost as swiftly as she'd felt it creep up on her.
Teddy's body was heavy on top of hers as he slumped against her. Her fingers loosened their grip on him, the tips tracing lightly over the crescent moon indentations left by her nails. She would hate herself in the morning-- they both would. But for now? She just wanted to pretend that Teddy was hers.
*~*~*~*
Fucking Teddy was probably the biggest regret of Lily Luna's short twenty-three years of life. Before, he had been like a brother to her. Their relationship had been easy, with no baggage. Now, he could barely stand to be in the same room with her. They'd never spoken of that night again, and with Teddy and Victoire happily married and expecting a baby soon, that wasn't going to change.
Maybe Rosie was right. Maybe she was a slag.
She almost didn't hear the door open again.
"You know she doesn't mean it, Lil," Dominique said softly from behind her.
Lily glanced up to meet her cousin's gaze in the mirror, managing a wry twitch of her lips. "Yes, she does," she said softly, lifting her shoulder in a shrug. "Rosie sees the world in black and white. I live in shades of gray."
"Which is how you should." The taller woman pushed off the door and went to settle back down on the bed, arranging her skirts tastefully around her long legs. Glancing up at Lily, her brow furrowed slightly in concern. "She doesn't... she doesn't know, right?"
"No." Lily looked away and reached for her mask. She held the gold material delicately in her hands, her brown gaze intent on the intricate detailing that traced out on the fabric. "You know she doesn't. If she did, the entire world would know."
"It was a mistake, you were nineteen, and it only happened once," Dominique said firmly. "You can't carry around that guilt for the rest of your life."
Can't I? "You know, there are times I want to tell her," Lily replied. Glancing over her shoulder, her eyes found her cousin's. "But then, she looks at me like I'm such a harlot, and... I don't know, I'm afraid she'll go and tell her parents. Or my parents. I mean, I'm a grown woman, I know that. But..." she glanced down at her mask and took a breath. "I don't want to hurt Daddy like that."
Dominique smiled sadly and nodded. "I know, Lils."
Exhaling loudly, Lily shook her head-- mentally shaking off the reverie she'd fallen into. "But you know, next time she starts her little judgmental ramble, I might just let it slip that I slept with her father-in-law." If Rosie had nearly passed out at the thought of Lily shagging Cormac McLaggen, she would die if she knew what else Rose had done.
Or who else, rather.
Her demi-French cousin grinned wickedly and stood, grabbing her own mask from Lily's bookshelf. "That's my girl." Spritzing on a dash of Lily's perfume, she gave her cousin a wink. "It's Halloween, my dear. The moon is full, the men are waiting, and we are going to have a night to remember. Don't leave me waiting too long, or I'll take all the good ones before you arrive."
Lily snorted and gave a negligent little wave. "Off with you, you French hussy. Make sure to leave me a man or two."
"Liam Finnigan is all yours," Dominique teased on her way out the door. "Don't be long!"
Liam Finnigan was all hers, Lily mused as the door shut behind Dominique, unlike most of the men that she'd slept with. He was handsome, fun, and witty, and Lily was quite taken with him. And he wasn't married-- unlike her last conquest.
*~*~*~*
Long, aristocratic fingers dug into Lily's hips, holding her tight as she undulated on top of him. It should have been awkward, the angle of their joining, but arousal flowed through her so strong that she felt near boneless. Her skin jumped, and her thighs quivered when one hand slid over her hipbone and down across her lower stomach, seeking out her sex.
"Oh god," she moaned, letting her head fall back to rest on his shoulder. One hour and three orgasms in, and Lily was seriously considering throwing it all away to become Draco Malfoy's secret mistress.
They hadn't even made it to the bedroom; she was naked, spread out on his lap as her fingertips grasped the velvet arms on either side of his imposing chair. The light from the nearby fire cast shadows on her body, flickering shadows across her pale body.
He pinched her swollen nub, and she felt him smirk against her neck when her hips jerked in response. "So sensitive," he murmured. His other hand traced over her side, leaving goose flesh in its wake as it traveled up towards her aching breast. Lily nearly sighed in pleasure when he pressed his palm against her nipple, rubbing it just so.
Simultaneously, he tweaked her nipple and her clitoris, drawing a gasp from her kiss-swollen lips. "Move for me, little Lily," he breathed, his finger falling into a rhythm with the movement of her hips. Down-stroke, stroke, down-stroke, stroke; her body felt almost drugged. Her hair felt heavy against her bare back, she could feel every slide of velvet against the backs of her calves, could feel his zipper pressing into her arse when she pushed back against him.
Draco smirked as her face turned blindly to his, capturing her lips in a slow, languid kiss. This time was different than their previous couplings; it was slower, the desire simmering. But even as slow as the passion crept over her, it was growing hotter and hotter with each passing second.
"Come," he commanded, nipping at her lower lip.
Lily was helpless to do anything but obey, and she cried out, "Draco!" as her back bowed in pleasure. She felt him tense behind her, then sigh when he spilled his seed within her quivering body. Panting, she fell back against him and let her eyes fall shut as she enjoyed the heavy, sated sensations thrumming through her veins.
Yes, being Draco Malfoy's secret mistress sounded like a noble profession indeed.
*~*~*~*
The apple hadn't really fallen far from the tree, at least as far as the Malfoy's were concerned. Even with Rosie's cold fish ways, she had managed to land a fiancé who knew how to fuck. Lily had really preferred Draco's long-lasting endurance to Scorpius' teenage enthusiasm, but to each their own, she supposed.
Of course, the double standard might not apply to her. She was sure that if James slept around with Fred's girl, he wouldn't be congratulated; Fred would beat the bloody shite out of her brother. But Lily had far more sex with non-attached men than she did with attached, so perhaps it was a wash.
Or maybe she really was a slag. She enjoyed sex, had no qualms about sleeping around, and monogamy really wasn't her thing. But if that was all that it took, then she would wear her scarlet letter with pride.
Lily stood and gave herself one last glance in the mirror. She adjusted her breasts, making sure they pressed enticingly against her tight bodice. Her makeup was perfect, her red hair curled and artfully tousled over one pale shoulder. She looked like a bloody harlot.
But it was Halloween. For one night, she could at least own up to it.