Fic: Crescendo (1/1)
Title: Crescendo
Author: Inell
Disclaimer: Rowling owns them all
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Lucius/Narcissa
Summary: Narcissa Malfoy has a secret..
Feedback makes my smile and lets me know that someone is reading
A/N: Okay, I just adore writing this pairing! And I think this turned out rather well! I hope…anyway, let me know what you think!
To Ashley for writing me LuCissa! Here is your smut, darlin’ ;)
CRESCENDO (1/1)
Narcissa Malfoy has a secret.
It is a secret that she has had for more than two decades. A secret that would shock any that knew her, would cause the people around her to look at her with disbelief, surprise, disgust, and, in a few, perhaps admiration. It is a secret that she once shared with her husband upon their wedding, his reaction one of repulsion and dismay. She had hoped that he would join her, that she could share her secret with someone she loved so dearly, that she would have someone by her side so she would no longer have to be alone. Needless to say, she had never spoken another word of her secret after Lucius’ initial reaction. In retrospect, she should not have been at all surprised by his response and felt foolish for having believed he loved her more than his own prejudice and hatred. It was never spoken of again, and she honestly did not know if he was even aware that she continued participating in her clandestine activity.
The blonde witch sighed as she finished removing her robe to prepare for the evening’s event. Ten evenings a year for the last twenty-three years, since she had been seventeen, she had gone through these preparations. There were times that she wished she did not have to maintain this charade, did not have to constantly be aware of what others may think of her, did not have to always play the part of perfect Pureblood and could simply be herself. There were rare occasions in which she could ‘let her hair down’ as some of the more common of her kind might say.
The majority of her time was focused on her position in society, saying what was expected, doing what was expected, never showing emotion in public, never trusting anyone because it was certain that there were many that would like to see her the subject of sordid gossip and would use true self against Lucius and Narcissa did not wish for any damage to be done to her husband, son, or the family name. So she smiled slight smiles that rarely reached her eyes, looked at those around her as insignificant and unworthy of her time and attention, treated everyone as if she was extremely bored or, in certain circumstances, simply indifferent.
Contrary to how others may view her, she was not the cold, aloof, condescending witch they believed, but she played her part exceptionally well so they had no idea that she was passionate and emotional and argumentative and opinionated. How they could believe that a man such as Lucius Malfoy would be happy with a frigid, distant wife was beyond her. Lucius had first been attracted to her because she had challenged him one evening when his family had been visiting hers. She had been several years his junior, a bit in awe of the confident and attractive wizard who was one of the most intelligent and imposing men she had ever met. Instead of dismissing her thoughts and views because she was a privileged witch, he had focused his intense gray eyes on her and responded to her remark.
They had begun a bit of a debate, much to her Mum’s displeasure, but Lucius had been smitten, according to him, from the moment he had looked into her blue eyes and seen the fire burning beneath the frosty surface. From that moment, she had been his and he had been hers. He loved to make her burn, to melt her, to listen to her vocal disapproval of everything from whom was being given the Headlines in the Daily Prophet to Voldemort’s latest plan of destruction.
Yes, surprising to any that did not know her, and, considering that Lucius was the only person who really knew her, that would mean basically everyone, she had not been a follower of Voldemort. She could imagine the gasps of surprise that declaration would warrant in the community, knowing that her entire family, the Blacks and the Malfoys save for Sirius, were looked upon with fear and apprehension, considered the darkest of the dark. Personally, she had no particular fondness for Muggles or Muggleborns and would be quite happy if they never interacted with her, but that dislike did not mean that she wished to see the slaughter of so many people merely because their blood was not as pure as hers. Besides, if the world was composed of only Purebloods, there would be no one in which to feel superior or perform the menial and tedious tasks that were necessary for one’s survival.
After all, she could not imagine a fellow Pureblood working at a candy counter or designing lovely robes, two things that were very important to Narcissa. After all, one could never have too many beautiful robes or enough sweets. To say she had been relieved when Voldemort had finally been destroyed by that annoying Pottter whelp just a few months before was a bit of an understatement. She had, in fact, redecorated the Manor with lovely colors that were no longer required to be black and oppressive and had spent several days in bed with Lucius in celebration of Voldemort’s demise. By that point, her husband had barely escaped a sentence to Azkaban and been forced to acknowledge that his belief in Voldemort was not as important as his freedom or his family.
He had not become a spy, such a term too common and lurid to truly describe her husband, but he had been generous with information during his random visits with his old friend Severus. When the Ministry had to acknowledge Lucius’ vital role in their defeat, she had nearly broken a true smile at the way that annoying Weasley man’s face had turned bright red as he had gritted out her husband’s name along with a comment of gratitude during a Ministry meeting. Luckily, that seedy little man Fudge had perished along with Voldemort and Narcissa was actually rather fond of Amelia Bones, the new Minister. It also delighted her to see a witch in such a powerful and responsible position. Despite her advantaged upbringing, Narcissa was very fond of witches being given the same responsibilities as wizards.
She finished undressing and noticed that the hour was getting late. She did not wish to rush and she loathed being tardy so she drew herself from her thoughts and walked to the wardrobe. With a sigh, she hung her robe on the hook in her wardrobe. She was procrastinating, which was unlike her. She anticipated these evenings throughout the entire year, not pleased at having to keep them secret or of experiencing them alone, but she always forgot everything once it was begun. For a few hours for a few evenings a year, she was no longer Narcissa Black Malfoy, she was simply herself. True, she was able to be Narcissa at home, within the confines of her Manor, and that was satisfactory because she really had no fondness for most the people in their community and was content knowing that the people she loved knew who she was really was, though Draco had no idea where she would disappear for those few evenings each spring into early summer.
But, there was something exhilarating about being able to sneak away for a few hours and do something forbidden and shocking. In fact, her first experience had been entirely rebellion against her parents, a stubborn seventeen-year old doing something dangerous and daring and finding herself enthralled and moved beyond anything she could ever imagine. Instead of bragging to her parents and smirking at Bellatrix for her defiant act, she had kept it to herself, a private moment that she had not dared share with anyone until Lucius. After his reaction, the curling of his lip and the narrowing of his eyes as he had spat out her secret joy as if he found it the most vile and revolting thing he‘d ever heard, she had never spoken of it to anyone again.
Narcissa reached into the darkest corner of her wardrobe, tapping her wand twice on the wood, watching as the side disappeared and allowed her to see her attire for the evening. Her fingers moved along the material, finding it almost illicit to feel it against her bare flesh. Blue eyes looked at her choices for the evening, one outfit for each evening she would sneak away and enjoy her private experience.
She needed to purchase new costumes, she decided, the ones in her wardrobe being several years old. She hid them behind the barrier so that Lucius did not happen to see them, not wanting to risk him attempting to prohibit her activities because she would refuse and an argument would ensue. She loved Lucius, even after twenty-two years of marriage and dealing with two Wars in which she did not agree but supported his decisions regardless, and she did not enjoy fighting with him, not battles such as those where neither would win. She finally selected a simple gown in a beautiful sapphire that caused her long golden hair to shine and her eyes to look even more blue.
The blonde witch dressed quickly, wearing nothing beneath the gown. She sighed softly as she felt the material caress her flesh, finding the sensation arousing despite the origin. She enjoyed this fabric, having a fondness for textures against her bare flesh. Her robes were the highest quality of wizarding material as were the sheets on their bed, and she loved the feeling of those against her skin but there was something rather exciting about the costumes she wore during her excursions.
It was these nights that she allowed herself to release the control she kept on her emotions, to simply feel and experience everything. It was the reason she always felt melancholy at the beginning of her evenings, wishing she had someone to share the pleasure with, knowing that she would return home to find Lucius in his study reading, pretending as if he was unaware that she had even been gone. She would be cool towards him, hurt that he could not accept this about her and feeling ashamed for having such a weakness at the same time she would still be consumed with the emotions from her encounter.
Once she was dressed in the beautiful gown, she looked in the mirror. With a quick charm, her waist-length blond hair was piled on top of her hair with a few tendrils curled and hanging down to brush against her neck. The dress was form fitting with a low bodice, her breasts full and high, looking rather attractive for one of her age. She looked more than a decade younger than her true age of forty, her skin smooth and soft without the wrinkles often plaguing those of her age. She had little doubt she would soon begin to show signs of age, but she was lucky because the Black women aged very gracefully. She frowned as she noticed that the gown was slightly snug around her waist, deciding that she would have to cut down on her fondness for sweets or perhaps she would being performing some form of exercise, though the idea of physical activity that caused her to perspire without the feeling of Lucius touching her and being sheathed within her did not sound very pleasant at all.
Content that she looked fetching, confirmation that she looked beautiful coming from her mirror, she turned and retrieved her bag. With one last look in the mirror, she sighed as she realized that she did, indeed, look appropriately Muggle for her evening’s expedition. She placed a wrap around her shoulders and proceeded to apparate to Diagon Alley. After taking a cautious look around and insuring that no one would see her, she quickly left the alley and made her way into Muggle London. She walked the route from memory, her blue eyes looking around curiously, a bit amazed at these Muggle creatures and their strange ways. Things had changed very little since her first journey here over two decades before, but she had changed. She was far less timid when venturing into the Muggle world. She was not fond of it, but it was a necessity for these evenings. Finally, she reached her destination.
Narcissa smiled as she saw the building, making her way up the stairs to the entrance. She avoided interacting with the Muggles, her enjoyment for their entertainment not causing her to actually like them. As she walked inside, she noted the name of the evening’s performance, Seasons of Change, a new show according to the program she received when she purchased her season tickets. She had a private box, paying far more than necessary to guarantee her privacy and avoidance of Muggles. The Muggle taking tickets gave her a pleasant smile which Narcissa returned, not having to be rude or reserved here, not minding smiling even if it was at some daft Muggle girl whose nametag read Ashley. She opened her bag and withdrew the envelope of tickets, handing one over to gain admittance. With a puzzled frown, she noticed that her ticket was the only one in the envelope.
She laughed softly, realizing that she must have removed the unneeded tickets all ready and destroyed them. That was her usual custom, but she had been delayed in purchasing her box this season due to the end of the War so she thought she had not yet done this ritual. Perhaps she was getting absent minded in her old age. Regardless, she handed her ticket to the Ashley Muggle and continued inside the Opera House. She hoped this show was as moving as Madame Butterfly, the final performance from last season. She had been moved to tears while watching that Muggle Opera, consumed with sadness for the characters and feeling their grief with each song sung.
She was escorted to her box by a grinning Muggle, taking her seat and removing her wrap. Soon, the performance began and she felt the familiar stirring of emotions as a woman began to sing. The show was a bit of a tragedy, Narcissa’s favorite type of Opera, and soon the normally reserved and cold witch was riveted by the music, her hand on her heart, her eyes gleaming with tears as the songs of woe and anguish were performed. She was so caught up in the show that she did not notice movement beside her. When she felt a leather clad thumb wiping a stray tear from her face, she gasped with surprise and turned her head, eyes widening as she saw Lucius smirking at her.
“Surprise,” he smirked, his eyes moving over her face and body before looking into her eyes. With a low growl, he softly said, “You look beautiful, darling, but something tells me that you are bare beneath that Muggle garment. Tsk, tsk. You naughty girl.”
He looked smug and very pleased with himself, she noted with some irritation. He was wearing a black Muggle suit and a white shirt, his long pale blond hair pulled back neatly with a strap of leather. Only Lucius could make something as ordinary as Muggle clothes look sexy and alluring, annoying bastard. Deciding to ignore the fact that she felt like apparating home, stripping that Muggle suit from his delectable body and riding him until neither of them could move, she gave him her perfected look of aloofness as she cooly replied, “What brings you here, Lucius?”
“You are here,” he said simply, as if she was foolish for not knowing the answer, resting his cane against the rail in front of them and removing his coat, her eyes drawn to watching his movements instead of reacting to his casual comment.
“Don’t give me that, Lucius Tristan Malfoy!” Narcissa hissed, her eyes glinting with anger at having her enjoyable experience disturbed, “I have been coming here since we were married and, if I recall correctly, you thought it was ‘disgusting and loathsome’ that I allowed myself to venture into the Muggle world for these ‘silly musical shows’.”
“Darling, you’re upsetting yourself. Watch the show,” Lucius purred in the sexy way she found difficult to refuse, his finger still clad in the leather glove as he trailed the path of tears down her cheek before gently moving her head to face the stage.
“This discussion is *not* over, Lucius,” she snapped before looking at the stage, unaware that she was glaring at the actors. She had always imagined sharing this special event with her husband, but her thoughts had never involved him sneaking around like such a…Slytherin! Now she was unfocused and had lost track of what was happening on stage and her emotions were no longer sad and tragic but angry and aroused. Damn stupid husband, she thought crossly, wishing she new Muggle cursing terms to use, making a mental note to discuss this topic with her son’s lover, that Granger girl, next time they visited the Manor. She wanted to have plenty of wicked words to use that Lucius would not understand at all for future arguments with her obstinate and infuriating husband.
She felt Lucius move the chair closer to hers, glancing at him out of the corner of her eyes to see if she could figure out his intentions. She had not been in Slytherin for no reason, after all, being just as cunning and devious as her handsome husband. As it was, this was one time he had outmaneuvered her. She found that irritating and troublesome, preferring to remain one step ahead of her husband and allowing him to just believe that he was in control when, in fact, she had the power in their relationship. Tonight, he had taken the power away from her and she was now bewildered and uncertain. He was watching the stage with a slight snarl on his lips, the nerve in his cheek twitching, and she knew he was not pleased to be surrounded by Muggles. Yet, he was here, with her, suffering through one of his worst nightmares and she was acting suspicious and analyzing his intentions.
Narcissa focused her attention on the stage, feeling guilty for arguing with him when he was only there because of her. Merlin, she loved him. Once she had determined to forgive him for sneaking up on her and surprising her, which was actually rather romantic and pleasing, she again became consumed by the Opera. It was not as delightful as some that she had seen, but it was enjoyable. Perhaps it was more pleasurable because Lucius was sitting beside her, a tender smile crossing her lips as she leaned back in the chair and watched the performance.
Lucius shifted beside her, his leg moving against hers, nearly distracting her, but she kept her attention on the Opera. She inhaled sharply when she felt her dress slide along her leg, her eyes darting down to see his leather clad right hand on her upper thigh. She waited, again glancing at his handsome profile, seeing his attention on the stage. His lips, however, were no longer snarling, instead they were curved into a decidedly wicked smile. He looked at her without turning his head, one pale brow arching as he whispered, “Watch the show, darling.”
Narcissa obeyed, turning her head to look at the show below. She was unable to concentrate, her body reacting to the feel of his hand on her leg through the thin silk of her dress. Even after twenty years, he could still excite her with just a whisper, could arouse her with a smile, could heat her body with a casual touch. She could feel her nipples tighten as his hand began to caress her leg, just a gentle pressure, squeezing, his thumb moving in small circles. She drew her lower lip into her mouth, nibbling on it as her dress began to lazily slide up her bare leg. Merlin, he couldn’t be planning….her eyes fluttered when she felt the leather against her flesh..he did! She managed to protest, her voice husky and aroused which contradicted her words, “Lucius, not here.”
“Shh, darling. Enjoy the show,” he purred as his hand began to move higher.
Soon, Narcissa felt the soft leather of his gloves on her inner thigh. She shifted in the chair, spreading her legs and feeling completely wanton and sinful as she listened to the singing below. The song was beginning slow, a duet among the lovers, Narcissa watching the stage as Lucius’ fingers crept higher and higher, teasing her with their slow progress. She heard his husky chuckle as she spread her legs for him, her face flushed as she kept her attention on the singing Muggles. Lips suddenly moved along her collarbone, his tongue licking her flesh, nibbling, teasing her, his fingers finally reaching their destination. She moaned softly when she felt the coarse leather brush against the blonde curls between her thighs. His lips made their way up the column of her neck and soon he was nibbling on her earlobe, whispering, “Keep watching your Muggle show, darling,” before he plunged a finger into her wetness.
Narcissa gasped when she felt the length of his finger move within her, his lips continuing their journey across her cheek and neck, a second finger joining the first. He moved them in slow, languid motions, teasing her, tormenting her, his left hand moving against the nape of her neck, curling a lock of hair around his finger as he licked and sucked her flesh, shifting in his chair so that he could have better access to her. When she tried to move her head to kiss him, he clucked his tongue in a scolding manner as if she was a misbehaving child and told her to keep watching the show. She was going to curse him if he said that again, she decided crossly, unable to frown because her lips were parted as she sucked in short gasps of breath. Her right hand moved to rest on his leg, digging into his flesh through the Muggle trousers. He had added a third finger, the leather sliding easily into her wet passage, his thumb moving in deliberately slow teasing circles against her clit.
“You look so beautiful,” he murmured in her ear, “so passionate, so exciting, so bloody exciting. I love to watch your face when you’re aroused, the way your eyes darken with desire, the way your pale cheeks flush with excitement, the way you bite your lip, the way you explode with my name on your lips. I love watching you burn, being the one to make you melt, knowing that beneath that frosty exterior, you’re the most passionate creature I’ve ever met and that I’m the only one that gets to see that side of you. I want you to come for me, Narcissa. Listen to your beloved Muggle Opera and feel me inside you, hear my voice, unite the two things that you love the most, darling. Come for me. I want to hear my name on your lips.”
“Lucius,” she cried hoarsely as she became overwhelmed with need and emotion, turning her head and finding his lips as she came, whimpering as his tongue swept into her mouth, her body moving against his hand as her wetness flowed freely, creating a wet spot on her gown and the seat beneath her. Narcissa pulled back from his kiss, a wicked gleam entering her blue eyes as she decided that it was her turn to play, remind Lucius that she was a Slytherin, too, and that he was not the only one that could be teasing and mischievous. She removed his hand from between her legs and stood, quickly straddling her surprised husband. With a lusty smile, the blonde witch unfastened his trousers and removed his hard cock.
“Narcissa, really, one of these Muggles might see us,” Lucius arched a brow, his eyes gleaming with desire as his nostrils flared, arousal causing his words to be thick and desperate. She smiled with delight when he groaned softly as her hand began to stroke his erection. She loved his noises, every resemblance of propriety fleeing from her as she leaned down and caught his lips with hers, her right hand moving to free his hair, loving to run her ringers through the soft, silky strands. She wrapped his hair around her hand, tugging slightly, knowing he enjoyed the sensation of having his hair pulled when they made love. Know, this wasn’t making love, she corrected with a devious smile. This was fucking.
The music from below surrounded them as she stroked him, her wetness dripping from her legs and creating a wet patch on his trousers, her body rubbing against him as she teased him, desperate to feel him buried inside her but wanting to repay his teasing torment from earlier. Their kiss was intense and powerful, his hands moving behind her to cup her arse, the dress raised around her waist as he jerked her forward, the tip of his cock brushing against the wetness between her thighs. She broke the kiss, licking her way across his cheek until she reached his ear. She ran her tongue over the lobe, feeling him shudder from the feeling of her wet tongue and hot breath against his sensitive earlobe. With an impish smile, she purred, “Just watch the show, darling,” before she sunk down onto his hard cock.
“Temptress,” he moaned in her ear, his hands kneading her arse as she began to move against him, her back arching as she felt his entire length sink deep inside her. Merlin, she loved being on top, feeling him touch her so deep, looking down into those gorgeous gray eyes and seeing his loss of control.
Narcissa moaned when he moved his head forward, laving his tongue against her hard nipple, causing the silk of her dress to be soaked from his saliva, his hands pulling her against him as his hips arched off the chair. The music began to build below, the voices blending together, Lucius ripping her dress with his teeth so he could reach her breast, a fresh wave of arousal spreading over the frost blonde witch as his mouth enveloped her nipple, his tongue teasing the hardened bud, the bastard still teasing her.
She could feel the familiar tension in her lower body, her muscles tightening around his cock, her hand pulling his hair so she could look at him. She looked into his eyes, her lips curved into a loving smile as she whispered, “Come for me, Lucius. Lose yourself in me. I want to watch your face as you climax.”
“Merlin, Narcissa,” he groaned softly, raising her and bringing her down against his cock more forcefully, his gray eyes dark with need and desire.
The blonde witch rubbed her clit against him on each downward stroke, the sensitive bud still tingling from her previous orgasm. She could felt his leather glove on her ass along with his ungloved hand, the dual sensation of soft skin and coarse material far too erotic, the bastard knowing she was aroused by textures. The song below was getting louder, building to the final notes. In the private box, Narcissa felt her orgasm approaching, her breathing ragged, desperate, unable to look away from Lucius’ stormy gaze, finding him even more sexy when he looked so disheveled , consumed with emotion and need, untamed and uninhibited, her gorgeous husband, her best friend, her teasing and passionate lover.
Narcissa whimpered as her orgasm hit her, a low moan escaping from her lips, her muscles tightening around his cock. Lucius growled as he stood up suddenly, her legs wrapping around his waist as he shoved her against the wall. She gasped as he fucked her roughly, his hands squeezing her flesh as he thrust into her. One hand was tangled in his long hair, the other clenching his shoulder as she bounced on his cock, gasping as he continued to sink deep within her.
She watched his face, knew he was close, listening to his sounds merge with the song below, finding it the most enthralling thing she had ever heard. She watched his face as he came, his eyes looking deep into hers as he thrust in deeply, his grip almost bruising on her hips and arse, her back against the wall of the theatre box. He grunted as he sunk deep, his seed spilling inside her, groaning her name against her lips before kissing her deeply, just as the music below reached its crescendo.
When their kiss ended, they exchanged satisfied smiles as he slowly withdrew from her, her legs shaky as she leaned against the wall. He reached for his cane, removing his wand and performing a cleaning charm and then repairing her torn dress before replacing his wand. She reached forward and tucked his spent cock back into his trousers before fastening the zip, patting the bulge as she smirked, “I must say, darling, this is the best night at the Opera that I’ve ever had.”
“Of course it is, Narcissa. After all, I was here,” he replied smugly, amusement flashing in his gray eyes as he moved forward like a predator, pinning her against the wall. He lowered his head, confessing in a lazy drawl, “I find that I share your fondness for this Muggle Opera, darling. When is the next show?”
“Next week,” she whispered with a kiss against his cheek, confiding, “and after Opera, they have something called Musical Theatre that lasts for twelve weeks. I have never attended one, but I do believe it would be rather enjoyable, don’t you?”
“I think we could make it enjoyable,” Lucius smirked as his hand moved along her body, his eyes looking into hers as he said, “you’re so bloody beautiful.”
“Yes, you really are quite lucky to have me,” she smiled smugly, brushing her lips against his, slapping his hand as it drifted to her arse, a teasing gleam in her blue eyes as she said, “Watch the show, darling.”
“Fuck the show,” he leered, pleased that his seduction had succeeded and that he could now enjoy this peculiar passion for Muggle Opera with his wife. True, it was mostly about teasing and playing with his stunning wife, but the music had added a wonderful accompaniment to her moans and whimpers. He still loathed Muggles but it was nice to know they provided some useful things, such as this sexy dress his wife was barely wearing.
“Lucius! You naughty, naughty boy,” she scolded playfully as she leaned against his ear, her hand moving down to squeeze his cock as she purred, “I thought you wanted to fuck me, not the show.”
“Bugger this,” he cursed as he reached back and grabbed her shawl before pulling her against him and apparating them to their bedroom. With a wicked smile, he tossed her on the bed and crawled towards her, catching her as she tried to dart away, both of them laughing as they rolled together, hands moving, clothes ripping, lips meeting, the two of them creating their own passionate crescendo by sharing their love and enjoying one another.
*the end*
Author: Inell
Disclaimer: Rowling owns them all
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Lucius/Narcissa
Summary: Narcissa Malfoy has a secret..
Feedback makes my smile and lets me know that someone is reading
A/N: Okay, I just adore writing this pairing! And I think this turned out rather well! I hope…anyway, let me know what you think!
To Ashley for writing me LuCissa! Here is your smut, darlin’ ;)
CRESCENDO (1/1)
Narcissa Malfoy has a secret.
It is a secret that she has had for more than two decades. A secret that would shock any that knew her, would cause the people around her to look at her with disbelief, surprise, disgust, and, in a few, perhaps admiration. It is a secret that she once shared with her husband upon their wedding, his reaction one of repulsion and dismay. She had hoped that he would join her, that she could share her secret with someone she loved so dearly, that she would have someone by her side so she would no longer have to be alone. Needless to say, she had never spoken another word of her secret after Lucius’ initial reaction. In retrospect, she should not have been at all surprised by his response and felt foolish for having believed he loved her more than his own prejudice and hatred. It was never spoken of again, and she honestly did not know if he was even aware that she continued participating in her clandestine activity.
The blonde witch sighed as she finished removing her robe to prepare for the evening’s event. Ten evenings a year for the last twenty-three years, since she had been seventeen, she had gone through these preparations. There were times that she wished she did not have to maintain this charade, did not have to constantly be aware of what others may think of her, did not have to always play the part of perfect Pureblood and could simply be herself. There were rare occasions in which she could ‘let her hair down’ as some of the more common of her kind might say.
The majority of her time was focused on her position in society, saying what was expected, doing what was expected, never showing emotion in public, never trusting anyone because it was certain that there were many that would like to see her the subject of sordid gossip and would use true self against Lucius and Narcissa did not wish for any damage to be done to her husband, son, or the family name. So she smiled slight smiles that rarely reached her eyes, looked at those around her as insignificant and unworthy of her time and attention, treated everyone as if she was extremely bored or, in certain circumstances, simply indifferent.
Contrary to how others may view her, she was not the cold, aloof, condescending witch they believed, but she played her part exceptionally well so they had no idea that she was passionate and emotional and argumentative and opinionated. How they could believe that a man such as Lucius Malfoy would be happy with a frigid, distant wife was beyond her. Lucius had first been attracted to her because she had challenged him one evening when his family had been visiting hers. She had been several years his junior, a bit in awe of the confident and attractive wizard who was one of the most intelligent and imposing men she had ever met. Instead of dismissing her thoughts and views because she was a privileged witch, he had focused his intense gray eyes on her and responded to her remark.
They had begun a bit of a debate, much to her Mum’s displeasure, but Lucius had been smitten, according to him, from the moment he had looked into her blue eyes and seen the fire burning beneath the frosty surface. From that moment, she had been his and he had been hers. He loved to make her burn, to melt her, to listen to her vocal disapproval of everything from whom was being given the Headlines in the Daily Prophet to Voldemort’s latest plan of destruction.
Yes, surprising to any that did not know her, and, considering that Lucius was the only person who really knew her, that would mean basically everyone, she had not been a follower of Voldemort. She could imagine the gasps of surprise that declaration would warrant in the community, knowing that her entire family, the Blacks and the Malfoys save for Sirius, were looked upon with fear and apprehension, considered the darkest of the dark. Personally, she had no particular fondness for Muggles or Muggleborns and would be quite happy if they never interacted with her, but that dislike did not mean that she wished to see the slaughter of so many people merely because their blood was not as pure as hers. Besides, if the world was composed of only Purebloods, there would be no one in which to feel superior or perform the menial and tedious tasks that were necessary for one’s survival.
After all, she could not imagine a fellow Pureblood working at a candy counter or designing lovely robes, two things that were very important to Narcissa. After all, one could never have too many beautiful robes or enough sweets. To say she had been relieved when Voldemort had finally been destroyed by that annoying Pottter whelp just a few months before was a bit of an understatement. She had, in fact, redecorated the Manor with lovely colors that were no longer required to be black and oppressive and had spent several days in bed with Lucius in celebration of Voldemort’s demise. By that point, her husband had barely escaped a sentence to Azkaban and been forced to acknowledge that his belief in Voldemort was not as important as his freedom or his family.
He had not become a spy, such a term too common and lurid to truly describe her husband, but he had been generous with information during his random visits with his old friend Severus. When the Ministry had to acknowledge Lucius’ vital role in their defeat, she had nearly broken a true smile at the way that annoying Weasley man’s face had turned bright red as he had gritted out her husband’s name along with a comment of gratitude during a Ministry meeting. Luckily, that seedy little man Fudge had perished along with Voldemort and Narcissa was actually rather fond of Amelia Bones, the new Minister. It also delighted her to see a witch in such a powerful and responsible position. Despite her advantaged upbringing, Narcissa was very fond of witches being given the same responsibilities as wizards.
She finished undressing and noticed that the hour was getting late. She did not wish to rush and she loathed being tardy so she drew herself from her thoughts and walked to the wardrobe. With a sigh, she hung her robe on the hook in her wardrobe. She was procrastinating, which was unlike her. She anticipated these evenings throughout the entire year, not pleased at having to keep them secret or of experiencing them alone, but she always forgot everything once it was begun. For a few hours for a few evenings a year, she was no longer Narcissa Black Malfoy, she was simply herself. True, she was able to be Narcissa at home, within the confines of her Manor, and that was satisfactory because she really had no fondness for most the people in their community and was content knowing that the people she loved knew who she was really was, though Draco had no idea where she would disappear for those few evenings each spring into early summer.
But, there was something exhilarating about being able to sneak away for a few hours and do something forbidden and shocking. In fact, her first experience had been entirely rebellion against her parents, a stubborn seventeen-year old doing something dangerous and daring and finding herself enthralled and moved beyond anything she could ever imagine. Instead of bragging to her parents and smirking at Bellatrix for her defiant act, she had kept it to herself, a private moment that she had not dared share with anyone until Lucius. After his reaction, the curling of his lip and the narrowing of his eyes as he had spat out her secret joy as if he found it the most vile and revolting thing he‘d ever heard, she had never spoken of it to anyone again.
Narcissa reached into the darkest corner of her wardrobe, tapping her wand twice on the wood, watching as the side disappeared and allowed her to see her attire for the evening. Her fingers moved along the material, finding it almost illicit to feel it against her bare flesh. Blue eyes looked at her choices for the evening, one outfit for each evening she would sneak away and enjoy her private experience.
She needed to purchase new costumes, she decided, the ones in her wardrobe being several years old. She hid them behind the barrier so that Lucius did not happen to see them, not wanting to risk him attempting to prohibit her activities because she would refuse and an argument would ensue. She loved Lucius, even after twenty-two years of marriage and dealing with two Wars in which she did not agree but supported his decisions regardless, and she did not enjoy fighting with him, not battles such as those where neither would win. She finally selected a simple gown in a beautiful sapphire that caused her long golden hair to shine and her eyes to look even more blue.
The blonde witch dressed quickly, wearing nothing beneath the gown. She sighed softly as she felt the material caress her flesh, finding the sensation arousing despite the origin. She enjoyed this fabric, having a fondness for textures against her bare flesh. Her robes were the highest quality of wizarding material as were the sheets on their bed, and she loved the feeling of those against her skin but there was something rather exciting about the costumes she wore during her excursions.
It was these nights that she allowed herself to release the control she kept on her emotions, to simply feel and experience everything. It was the reason she always felt melancholy at the beginning of her evenings, wishing she had someone to share the pleasure with, knowing that she would return home to find Lucius in his study reading, pretending as if he was unaware that she had even been gone. She would be cool towards him, hurt that he could not accept this about her and feeling ashamed for having such a weakness at the same time she would still be consumed with the emotions from her encounter.
Once she was dressed in the beautiful gown, she looked in the mirror. With a quick charm, her waist-length blond hair was piled on top of her hair with a few tendrils curled and hanging down to brush against her neck. The dress was form fitting with a low bodice, her breasts full and high, looking rather attractive for one of her age. She looked more than a decade younger than her true age of forty, her skin smooth and soft without the wrinkles often plaguing those of her age. She had little doubt she would soon begin to show signs of age, but she was lucky because the Black women aged very gracefully. She frowned as she noticed that the gown was slightly snug around her waist, deciding that she would have to cut down on her fondness for sweets or perhaps she would being performing some form of exercise, though the idea of physical activity that caused her to perspire without the feeling of Lucius touching her and being sheathed within her did not sound very pleasant at all.
Content that she looked fetching, confirmation that she looked beautiful coming from her mirror, she turned and retrieved her bag. With one last look in the mirror, she sighed as she realized that she did, indeed, look appropriately Muggle for her evening’s expedition. She placed a wrap around her shoulders and proceeded to apparate to Diagon Alley. After taking a cautious look around and insuring that no one would see her, she quickly left the alley and made her way into Muggle London. She walked the route from memory, her blue eyes looking around curiously, a bit amazed at these Muggle creatures and their strange ways. Things had changed very little since her first journey here over two decades before, but she had changed. She was far less timid when venturing into the Muggle world. She was not fond of it, but it was a necessity for these evenings. Finally, she reached her destination.
Narcissa smiled as she saw the building, making her way up the stairs to the entrance. She avoided interacting with the Muggles, her enjoyment for their entertainment not causing her to actually like them. As she walked inside, she noted the name of the evening’s performance, Seasons of Change, a new show according to the program she received when she purchased her season tickets. She had a private box, paying far more than necessary to guarantee her privacy and avoidance of Muggles. The Muggle taking tickets gave her a pleasant smile which Narcissa returned, not having to be rude or reserved here, not minding smiling even if it was at some daft Muggle girl whose nametag read Ashley. She opened her bag and withdrew the envelope of tickets, handing one over to gain admittance. With a puzzled frown, she noticed that her ticket was the only one in the envelope.
She laughed softly, realizing that she must have removed the unneeded tickets all ready and destroyed them. That was her usual custom, but she had been delayed in purchasing her box this season due to the end of the War so she thought she had not yet done this ritual. Perhaps she was getting absent minded in her old age. Regardless, she handed her ticket to the Ashley Muggle and continued inside the Opera House. She hoped this show was as moving as Madame Butterfly, the final performance from last season. She had been moved to tears while watching that Muggle Opera, consumed with sadness for the characters and feeling their grief with each song sung.
She was escorted to her box by a grinning Muggle, taking her seat and removing her wrap. Soon, the performance began and she felt the familiar stirring of emotions as a woman began to sing. The show was a bit of a tragedy, Narcissa’s favorite type of Opera, and soon the normally reserved and cold witch was riveted by the music, her hand on her heart, her eyes gleaming with tears as the songs of woe and anguish were performed. She was so caught up in the show that she did not notice movement beside her. When she felt a leather clad thumb wiping a stray tear from her face, she gasped with surprise and turned her head, eyes widening as she saw Lucius smirking at her.
“Surprise,” he smirked, his eyes moving over her face and body before looking into her eyes. With a low growl, he softly said, “You look beautiful, darling, but something tells me that you are bare beneath that Muggle garment. Tsk, tsk. You naughty girl.”
He looked smug and very pleased with himself, she noted with some irritation. He was wearing a black Muggle suit and a white shirt, his long pale blond hair pulled back neatly with a strap of leather. Only Lucius could make something as ordinary as Muggle clothes look sexy and alluring, annoying bastard. Deciding to ignore the fact that she felt like apparating home, stripping that Muggle suit from his delectable body and riding him until neither of them could move, she gave him her perfected look of aloofness as she cooly replied, “What brings you here, Lucius?”
“You are here,” he said simply, as if she was foolish for not knowing the answer, resting his cane against the rail in front of them and removing his coat, her eyes drawn to watching his movements instead of reacting to his casual comment.
“Don’t give me that, Lucius Tristan Malfoy!” Narcissa hissed, her eyes glinting with anger at having her enjoyable experience disturbed, “I have been coming here since we were married and, if I recall correctly, you thought it was ‘disgusting and loathsome’ that I allowed myself to venture into the Muggle world for these ‘silly musical shows’.”
“Darling, you’re upsetting yourself. Watch the show,” Lucius purred in the sexy way she found difficult to refuse, his finger still clad in the leather glove as he trailed the path of tears down her cheek before gently moving her head to face the stage.
“This discussion is *not* over, Lucius,” she snapped before looking at the stage, unaware that she was glaring at the actors. She had always imagined sharing this special event with her husband, but her thoughts had never involved him sneaking around like such a…Slytherin! Now she was unfocused and had lost track of what was happening on stage and her emotions were no longer sad and tragic but angry and aroused. Damn stupid husband, she thought crossly, wishing she new Muggle cursing terms to use, making a mental note to discuss this topic with her son’s lover, that Granger girl, next time they visited the Manor. She wanted to have plenty of wicked words to use that Lucius would not understand at all for future arguments with her obstinate and infuriating husband.
She felt Lucius move the chair closer to hers, glancing at him out of the corner of her eyes to see if she could figure out his intentions. She had not been in Slytherin for no reason, after all, being just as cunning and devious as her handsome husband. As it was, this was one time he had outmaneuvered her. She found that irritating and troublesome, preferring to remain one step ahead of her husband and allowing him to just believe that he was in control when, in fact, she had the power in their relationship. Tonight, he had taken the power away from her and she was now bewildered and uncertain. He was watching the stage with a slight snarl on his lips, the nerve in his cheek twitching, and she knew he was not pleased to be surrounded by Muggles. Yet, he was here, with her, suffering through one of his worst nightmares and she was acting suspicious and analyzing his intentions.
Narcissa focused her attention on the stage, feeling guilty for arguing with him when he was only there because of her. Merlin, she loved him. Once she had determined to forgive him for sneaking up on her and surprising her, which was actually rather romantic and pleasing, she again became consumed by the Opera. It was not as delightful as some that she had seen, but it was enjoyable. Perhaps it was more pleasurable because Lucius was sitting beside her, a tender smile crossing her lips as she leaned back in the chair and watched the performance.
Lucius shifted beside her, his leg moving against hers, nearly distracting her, but she kept her attention on the Opera. She inhaled sharply when she felt her dress slide along her leg, her eyes darting down to see his leather clad right hand on her upper thigh. She waited, again glancing at his handsome profile, seeing his attention on the stage. His lips, however, were no longer snarling, instead they were curved into a decidedly wicked smile. He looked at her without turning his head, one pale brow arching as he whispered, “Watch the show, darling.”
Narcissa obeyed, turning her head to look at the show below. She was unable to concentrate, her body reacting to the feel of his hand on her leg through the thin silk of her dress. Even after twenty years, he could still excite her with just a whisper, could arouse her with a smile, could heat her body with a casual touch. She could feel her nipples tighten as his hand began to caress her leg, just a gentle pressure, squeezing, his thumb moving in small circles. She drew her lower lip into her mouth, nibbling on it as her dress began to lazily slide up her bare leg. Merlin, he couldn’t be planning….her eyes fluttered when she felt the leather against her flesh..he did! She managed to protest, her voice husky and aroused which contradicted her words, “Lucius, not here.”
“Shh, darling. Enjoy the show,” he purred as his hand began to move higher.
Soon, Narcissa felt the soft leather of his gloves on her inner thigh. She shifted in the chair, spreading her legs and feeling completely wanton and sinful as she listened to the singing below. The song was beginning slow, a duet among the lovers, Narcissa watching the stage as Lucius’ fingers crept higher and higher, teasing her with their slow progress. She heard his husky chuckle as she spread her legs for him, her face flushed as she kept her attention on the singing Muggles. Lips suddenly moved along her collarbone, his tongue licking her flesh, nibbling, teasing her, his fingers finally reaching their destination. She moaned softly when she felt the coarse leather brush against the blonde curls between her thighs. His lips made their way up the column of her neck and soon he was nibbling on her earlobe, whispering, “Keep watching your Muggle show, darling,” before he plunged a finger into her wetness.
Narcissa gasped when she felt the length of his finger move within her, his lips continuing their journey across her cheek and neck, a second finger joining the first. He moved them in slow, languid motions, teasing her, tormenting her, his left hand moving against the nape of her neck, curling a lock of hair around his finger as he licked and sucked her flesh, shifting in his chair so that he could have better access to her. When she tried to move her head to kiss him, he clucked his tongue in a scolding manner as if she was a misbehaving child and told her to keep watching the show. She was going to curse him if he said that again, she decided crossly, unable to frown because her lips were parted as she sucked in short gasps of breath. Her right hand moved to rest on his leg, digging into his flesh through the Muggle trousers. He had added a third finger, the leather sliding easily into her wet passage, his thumb moving in deliberately slow teasing circles against her clit.
“You look so beautiful,” he murmured in her ear, “so passionate, so exciting, so bloody exciting. I love to watch your face when you’re aroused, the way your eyes darken with desire, the way your pale cheeks flush with excitement, the way you bite your lip, the way you explode with my name on your lips. I love watching you burn, being the one to make you melt, knowing that beneath that frosty exterior, you’re the most passionate creature I’ve ever met and that I’m the only one that gets to see that side of you. I want you to come for me, Narcissa. Listen to your beloved Muggle Opera and feel me inside you, hear my voice, unite the two things that you love the most, darling. Come for me. I want to hear my name on your lips.”
“Lucius,” she cried hoarsely as she became overwhelmed with need and emotion, turning her head and finding his lips as she came, whimpering as his tongue swept into her mouth, her body moving against his hand as her wetness flowed freely, creating a wet spot on her gown and the seat beneath her. Narcissa pulled back from his kiss, a wicked gleam entering her blue eyes as she decided that it was her turn to play, remind Lucius that she was a Slytherin, too, and that he was not the only one that could be teasing and mischievous. She removed his hand from between her legs and stood, quickly straddling her surprised husband. With a lusty smile, the blonde witch unfastened his trousers and removed his hard cock.
“Narcissa, really, one of these Muggles might see us,” Lucius arched a brow, his eyes gleaming with desire as his nostrils flared, arousal causing his words to be thick and desperate. She smiled with delight when he groaned softly as her hand began to stroke his erection. She loved his noises, every resemblance of propriety fleeing from her as she leaned down and caught his lips with hers, her right hand moving to free his hair, loving to run her ringers through the soft, silky strands. She wrapped his hair around her hand, tugging slightly, knowing he enjoyed the sensation of having his hair pulled when they made love. Know, this wasn’t making love, she corrected with a devious smile. This was fucking.
The music from below surrounded them as she stroked him, her wetness dripping from her legs and creating a wet patch on his trousers, her body rubbing against him as she teased him, desperate to feel him buried inside her but wanting to repay his teasing torment from earlier. Their kiss was intense and powerful, his hands moving behind her to cup her arse, the dress raised around her waist as he jerked her forward, the tip of his cock brushing against the wetness between her thighs. She broke the kiss, licking her way across his cheek until she reached his ear. She ran her tongue over the lobe, feeling him shudder from the feeling of her wet tongue and hot breath against his sensitive earlobe. With an impish smile, she purred, “Just watch the show, darling,” before she sunk down onto his hard cock.
“Temptress,” he moaned in her ear, his hands kneading her arse as she began to move against him, her back arching as she felt his entire length sink deep inside her. Merlin, she loved being on top, feeling him touch her so deep, looking down into those gorgeous gray eyes and seeing his loss of control.
Narcissa moaned when he moved his head forward, laving his tongue against her hard nipple, causing the silk of her dress to be soaked from his saliva, his hands pulling her against him as his hips arched off the chair. The music began to build below, the voices blending together, Lucius ripping her dress with his teeth so he could reach her breast, a fresh wave of arousal spreading over the frost blonde witch as his mouth enveloped her nipple, his tongue teasing the hardened bud, the bastard still teasing her.
She could feel the familiar tension in her lower body, her muscles tightening around his cock, her hand pulling his hair so she could look at him. She looked into his eyes, her lips curved into a loving smile as she whispered, “Come for me, Lucius. Lose yourself in me. I want to watch your face as you climax.”
“Merlin, Narcissa,” he groaned softly, raising her and bringing her down against his cock more forcefully, his gray eyes dark with need and desire.
The blonde witch rubbed her clit against him on each downward stroke, the sensitive bud still tingling from her previous orgasm. She could felt his leather glove on her ass along with his ungloved hand, the dual sensation of soft skin and coarse material far too erotic, the bastard knowing she was aroused by textures. The song below was getting louder, building to the final notes. In the private box, Narcissa felt her orgasm approaching, her breathing ragged, desperate, unable to look away from Lucius’ stormy gaze, finding him even more sexy when he looked so disheveled , consumed with emotion and need, untamed and uninhibited, her gorgeous husband, her best friend, her teasing and passionate lover.
Narcissa whimpered as her orgasm hit her, a low moan escaping from her lips, her muscles tightening around his cock. Lucius growled as he stood up suddenly, her legs wrapping around his waist as he shoved her against the wall. She gasped as he fucked her roughly, his hands squeezing her flesh as he thrust into her. One hand was tangled in his long hair, the other clenching his shoulder as she bounced on his cock, gasping as he continued to sink deep within her.
She watched his face, knew he was close, listening to his sounds merge with the song below, finding it the most enthralling thing she had ever heard. She watched his face as he came, his eyes looking deep into hers as he thrust in deeply, his grip almost bruising on her hips and arse, her back against the wall of the theatre box. He grunted as he sunk deep, his seed spilling inside her, groaning her name against her lips before kissing her deeply, just as the music below reached its crescendo.
When their kiss ended, they exchanged satisfied smiles as he slowly withdrew from her, her legs shaky as she leaned against the wall. He reached for his cane, removing his wand and performing a cleaning charm and then repairing her torn dress before replacing his wand. She reached forward and tucked his spent cock back into his trousers before fastening the zip, patting the bulge as she smirked, “I must say, darling, this is the best night at the Opera that I’ve ever had.”
“Of course it is, Narcissa. After all, I was here,” he replied smugly, amusement flashing in his gray eyes as he moved forward like a predator, pinning her against the wall. He lowered his head, confessing in a lazy drawl, “I find that I share your fondness for this Muggle Opera, darling. When is the next show?”
“Next week,” she whispered with a kiss against his cheek, confiding, “and after Opera, they have something called Musical Theatre that lasts for twelve weeks. I have never attended one, but I do believe it would be rather enjoyable, don’t you?”
“I think we could make it enjoyable,” Lucius smirked as his hand moved along her body, his eyes looking into hers as he said, “you’re so bloody beautiful.”
“Yes, you really are quite lucky to have me,” she smiled smugly, brushing her lips against his, slapping his hand as it drifted to her arse, a teasing gleam in her blue eyes as she said, “Watch the show, darling.”
“Fuck the show,” he leered, pleased that his seduction had succeeded and that he could now enjoy this peculiar passion for Muggle Opera with his wife. True, it was mostly about teasing and playing with his stunning wife, but the music had added a wonderful accompaniment to her moans and whimpers. He still loathed Muggles but it was nice to know they provided some useful things, such as this sexy dress his wife was barely wearing.
“Lucius! You naughty, naughty boy,” she scolded playfully as she leaned against his ear, her hand moving down to squeeze his cock as she purred, “I thought you wanted to fuck me, not the show.”
“Bugger this,” he cursed as he reached back and grabbed her shawl before pulling her against him and apparating them to their bedroom. With a wicked smile, he tossed her on the bed and crawled towards her, catching her as she tried to dart away, both of them laughing as they rolled together, hands moving, clothes ripping, lips meeting, the two of them creating their own passionate crescendo by sharing their love and enjoying one another.
*the end*