As Lucius Malfoy returned from his meeting, his thoughts travelled to the woman awaiting him in his home. He had been as reluctant as she to part from her earlier, and his footsteps carried him rapidly along the frozen ground in anticipation of what would greet him on his arrival.

His body felt more relaxed, more at ease with itself than for an age. The glow which ran through every particle of his being when he thought of her bore him swiftly back to Hermione.

He looked ahead of him, his cane placed in a spot which his feet then moved into, his eyes trained on it. Yet he wasn't seeing the ground or his well-polished shoes placed regularly upon it. He could see only large brown eyes open with lust for him, her beautiful mouth encircling his manhood, more engorged for her than he thought possible. As he strode along, he once again felt the shifting in his groin.

Her body was a revelation to him, her sexual ardour and skill staggering. He confessed, it was beyond what he had imagined. It brought out in him feelings and proclivities he had had no use for in many years.

And this morning alone ...

He groaned aloud. Satisfaction did not come better than that. Her perfect body, her clear desire and need, her coarse language. He wanted more.

Lucius doubted her ardour would remain at such a peak for long. He suspected her heady lust and the flash of anger she had exhibited at Grimble were a mere hormonal anomaly.

Women.

He rolled his eyes a little as he walked. It had been some time since he had had to tread softly around the myriad of potholes split open by a woman's temper. Still, for her, he would subdue his natural reactions. She was worth it. Perhaps it was the moon. He glanced up into the clear darkening sky. The moon was about three-quarters full, waning. He raised his eyebrows in surprise. Perhaps not.

But despite the urgent sexual longing she stirred in him, it was not just her body he desired and that he now found himself obsessed with. The witch presented him with such wondrous emotional and intellectual satisfaction and companionship. It was those things which he craved above all else. He had been wrong, he could admit it now. And she had found him. She had opened him. His soul swelled with the light now flooding into his once dark house.

Mudblood.

His cane tapped the ground rhythmically, faster and faster in an effort to get back to her.

Did he care?

No.

He smirked to himself.

Hermione.

She had been lonely too. She had been searching. And she had found him. He would not let her down.

Perfection.

He turned his eyes upwards. He was nearly home. The lights flickered hospitably. Never could he recall his house looking so welcoming.

He practically flew the remaining yards up the path.

On entering the house, he tossed aside his outer cloak and called loudly. "I'm back!" His voice resounded through the great house.

Footsteps sounded quickly. His face broke into the widest smile as he saw her running towards him. But, before he could even take off his gloves, she had flung herself against him, showering him in kisses, gripping his head and plundering his mouth.

"I missed you. I missed you so much, so much. Now, now, I can't wait, Lucius, now."

His body did not allow him to process the surprise of his mind as his cock responded immediately to the lithe body pressing itself against him.

"Upstairs, we must go upstairs, my darling." He tried to pull back from her to lead her.

"No!" Her voice was remarkably forceful. "Here. Now. I've been waiting all bloody afternoon."

He chuckled at her impatience but managed at least to manoeuvre her into the sitting room.

Lucius kicked the door shut behind them. Hermione's hands came up immediately to remove his clothes. She was struggling, becoming increasingly frustrated. Her desire transmitted straight to him. He couldn't recall the last time he had wanted anything so much. His cock was swollen with painful desperation. Luckily, she had given up fumbling at his clothes, and with a quick wandless spell, they were both instantly naked.

She reached down with an exultant laugh and grabbed his cock hard. He sucked in with sudden sensitivity. There was nothing gentle in her movements. It didn't put him off.

"Fuck! I missed your cock. I sat here all afternoon dreaming of it, touching myself, thinking of you."

She brought her mouth to his ear and was pouring her needs desperately into it. His eyes closed as her hand gripped tight around his hardness. Images swam through his head of her, legs splayed, bringing herself pleasure. It was too much.

He grabbed her by the arms and seared her, first with his eyes, then his mouth, his lips claiming her desperately, his fingers digging into her pale flesh. When his mouth broke away to travel down her neck, she laughed with delight.

"Yes! Yes, Lucius. Take me, take me. I'm yours, only yours. Fuck me now. Claim me. I want you so much, so much. I want your beautiful cock inside me, filling me. Please, now, now!"

She pulled down from him and twisted round, kneeling before him, writhing her backside expectantly.

He wasn't used to taking her this way. Usually they kept eye-contact when he was inside her, needing the reassurance, the connection. For the first time, Lucius hesitated.

Hermione groaned in frustration and pushed back towards him. "Fuck! Don't make me wait any longer! Take me now! Take me. I'm yours, I'm yours."

All doubt was erased. He knelt behind her, and with only a moment's positioning, thrust hard and deep into her wet and supple body.

Exquisite.

Pleasure immediately engulfed him, enhanced by the sound of guttural rapture torn by his initial plunge from the woman beneath him.

He stilled for a moment, gazing down at her. Hermione groaned, at that point seemingly transported beyond words. He pulled out a little, only a little, to see his cock, thick and rigid, reappear from within her, slick with her juices. It was almost too much to bear. Did he deserve this? He pulled out a little more, then slowly eased in, studying his movement, committing the sight to memory.

Hermione moaned again. "Fuck, Lucius! Harder, harder, faster. I want to feel you. I need to feel you."

He could only oblige. He would do as she wished. He picked up the pace, stroking hard and deep along her now, jolting against her cervix with every plunge and drawing a grunt of perfect satisfaction from her each time.

"Yes, yes, that's it. I need to feel it. I live for it. I live for your magnificent cock. Your beautiful pure cock." She began to groan, her words replaced only by sounds of sheer, almost inhuman pleasure.

Lucius had lost the ability to think. His world was focused solely on his cock encompassed in perfect beauty, into which he ploughed relentlessly, seeking his release, seeking hers. The woman beneath him pushed back against him a final time and froze. He didn't stop, and her pleasure was pulled from her hard and fast. Hermione screamed, a cry of unbridled rapture. Her body shook on him, her pussy clenching hard around him as her orgasm took her.

He could hold back no longer. Lucius pushed fully into her and came with an explosive roar of triumph, his seed shooting hot and deep. His head fell back and his eyes closed as he gave himself over to pleasure.

Hermione's knees slid from under her, and as her body sank to the floor her lover fell heavily on top of her, pressing her deep into the carpet. A laughing breath was pushed from her by his weight.

Neither spoke.

At length, he slipped out and rolled to the side.

"If that's the greeting I get if I go out for a few hours perhaps I should absent myself for a day or two."

She hit him playfully on the chest. "Don't you dare. Fuck, that was good, Lucius. You are so damn good."

"Keep talking," he smirked.

His hand came over to run along her belly, warm with sated desire. "You have considerable skills yourself ... to put it mildly. Not that I'm complaining, but you do seem particularly ... passionate at the moment. Is there a reason for it?"

She looked at him in confusion. Her brows were raised as she thought about it. "I don't know. There's no reason. I just want you."

"Well, you've got me," he smirked again.

She smiled back and reached in to kiss him. "How was your meeting?"

"Good. I put him right about a few things. Foolish man. He should know better than to question me."

She grinned. "I like it when you're assertive."

He raised his brows cynically. "I'm not very often these days. I grew tired of it."

"Please don't," she pouted.

"What?"

"Grow tired of it. It turns me on."

"I can tell,' he purred.

His hand was stroking along her breasts, running delicately, his eyes moving over their rise with an expression of awe. His fingers brushed a nipple lightly. She moaned again. He continued doing only that, watching as the nipple darkened and swelled before his eyes. For him, it was enough.

But soon he felt hands on his head. Hermione had reached up and was guiding him down, down to the point of need.

His tongue flicked out delicately at first and licked the dark areola then over the point. She moaned again. "More." It was barely audible.

He glanced up as she pushed him harder against her. His lips closed around the tight bud and he sucked it deep into his mouth. "Yes!" she hissed as he felt it harden yet more under his tongue. He flicked it this way and that. It was too delicious. Hermione arched up, propelling herself yet deeper into him. "Harder." Her demand was surprisingly forceful. He doubled his efforts and elicited a moan of pleasure from her.

Then he felt her fingers close on his wrist and pull his hand up to her other breast, guiding it to the nipple. He rubbed lightly. She moaned in protest. "Hard. Pinch me, pinch it, bite me. I want it."

Lucius' lust once again overrode reason. His fingers squeezed around the nipple and his teeth closed on the other. He knew it was hard. He knew it would hurt. His glazed eyes flicked up to see her reaction. Hermione let out a moan of sheer pleasured agony, her breath then released in a hiss as her body adjusted to the sensations. "Yes, yes. I love it, I love it." He maintained the pressure on her nipples, twisting, pinching, biting. She merely bucked harder into him, her face twisted in erotic bliss.

Should he question his actions? At that moment, he could not. She did not allow him to. It was clear she adored it. He glanced down. Her own hand was at her sex, rubbing hard over her clit. He didn't stop. Hermione's breathing was rapid and desperate. His mind was blinded by this exquisite creature and her need, her need for him. Lucius bit and twisted hard. She rubbed firmly over her clit again, and with a shuddering cry, came with a surging strength.

Only when her body had stilled did he release his hold on her nipples. Hermione sank down onto the floor, her hand coming up to stroke his head which he rested on her heaving chest. She sighed out with sated pleasure. Lucius glanced at her nipples. They were red and sore; she didn't seem to notice. As her pleasure passed and calm reason redescended upon him, a pang of guilt shot through Lucius.

It was Hermione who pulled herself from the floor, summoning her clothes once again.

She smiled down at him. "You're perfect. I'm going to see what Grimble's preparing. I told him to have dinner ready promptly at eight."

She turned and left him.

Lucius found himself frowning. Something was tingling in the back of his mind. But as the image of Hermione's face twisted in pleasured rapture flashed before his eyes, he dismissed it.

Eventually picking himself up, he sauntered towards the kitchen and met Hermione coming out the other way. "I'd like to eat in the dining room tonight." She spoke abruptly.

He was taken aback, unsure what to say. For her, he would eat anywhere, but they enjoyed their times in the kitchen so much that her sudden request took him entirely unawares.

"Really? Are you sure?"

"Yes. It's about time we started to use other parts of the house. Come along. Show me where it is. Grimble knows to lay things up in there."

She strode past him along the corridor. He stared after her. The twinge in his mind returned.

Hermione came to a door. "Is it this one?" Without waiting for an answer she opened it. She had found the dining room first time, despite never seeing it before in her life.

She walked in, inhaling deeply. Lucius followed, keeping back from her slightly, observing.

"What a beautiful room." Hermione walked around, running her hands over the long oak table and the high-backed chairs. "It's ridiculous not to make use of it."

"We're happy in the kitchen, I thought. I like the intimacy of it. And I suppose using this room seemed unnecessary just for the two of us."

Hermione laughed aloud. "Just the two of us? You make us sound like a pair of impoverished Squibs! We're not just any two wizards, Lucius. We should allow ourselves a little comfort occasionally, a little luxury."

He sniffed out with a confused smile. "You declared lobster to be excessive yesterday."

Hermione ignored him and sat instead at the far end of the table.

"How do I look?" she beamed across to him.

"Beautiful." He could only speak the truth.

"Tell Grimble to hurry up and serve us in here. I'm hungry."

Lucius opened his mouth to speak but decided against it. He smiled a little before turning to do her bidding.

And so they ate in the dining room. Hermione's assertiveness seemed to have calmed and she conversed as smoothly and eloquently as ever. Her laughter punctuated the air every so often, a sound he delighted in. What did it matter if she wished to eat in the dining room? He would indulge her. It seemed to bring her great joy. She deserved great joy.

"It's Saturday tomorrow. Would you like to go somewhere?" He glanced across to gauge her reaction.

"Where did you have in mind?" She didn't raise her eyes to his.

"Wherever you wish. I should imagine our combined apparating powers could get us to Paris."

Hermione didn't respond but took another mouthful of food. Lucius felt a twinge of disappointment.

"Well?" He awaited her answer.

"Could do."

"Could do?" He put down his fork, annoyance stirring within him. He didn't raise his voice to her but his grievance was clear. "Paris, Hermione. I thought you'd jump at the chance. No one will know us there. We can do anything you wish. It is one of the most beautiful cities in the world."

She sighed and at last looked up at him. "I know. I just ... I don't know ... I just want to be with you."

"You will be with me. We could go to the Louvre, to the Musee d'Orsay."

"Yeah, I suppose. I'll see how I feel in the morning."

Lucius' eyes hardened and he leaned into her. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Yes. What do you mean?"

"You've been different today."

"No, I haven't." She was defensive.

"Yes, you have, you've been in a foul mood." He crossed his arms in confused frustration. "I suggest something I haven't dreamed of doing for years, because I think I'd like it, I think you'd love it, it would be wonderful to go together, and you hardly react!"

She stared over at him, her face at last softening. "I'm sorry. I just ... I don't know ... I suppose I am in a funny mood. Maybe we will go to Paris. I just loved being with you today, you know ... with you ... and we won't be able to do that in public."

"Hermione," he sighed across to her, speaking frankly, "you are incredible. What we did today was extraordinary, but it doesn't have to be like that every day. I don't think I could survive it!" He laughed. She didn't even break a smile. "See how you feel in the morning. But promise me you'll think about it."

She at last managed a small smirk. "I promise."

They finished supper. Lucius stood. "I think I'll have an early night, especially if we're going to apparate that far tomorrow."

Hermione looked up in surprise. "Are you going to sleep?"

"I thought I might. I confess to being a little ... worn out."

Her look of disappointment was obvious. He chuckled and pulled her into his arms. "If you come upstairs with me now, you might be able to convince me to put in one last appearance."

She smiled up at him, her hand already running inside his shirt. She leaned up to kiss him and pressed every inch of herself against his body. His groin jerked into action once again. How could it not?

With his last drops of energy, he swept her into his arms and carried her up the stairs to the bedroom, past the Christmas tree. As he passed it, Lucius considered for the merest moment that he thought he'd made the star shine more brightly than it now was.

But once inside the bedroom, as she drew his pleasure out rapidly again, the niggle in his mind was pushed to the side.

She would be in a better mood the next day, he was sure.