Continuing Tales

A Great Task of Solitude

A Harry Potter Story
by Laurielove

Part 16 of 27

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Lucius woke before Hermione the next day. He stretched and turned to look at the woman beside him. She was still deep in sleep, her long eyelashes lying lush and soft along the delicate skin, her hair curling around her neck.

He had never seen such a beautiful sight. In all his days searching for truth, for the right path, he had never come across such sublime perfection.

He had forgotten her terse comments of yesterday.

He had not forgotten the pleasure her body had given him.

Reaching over, he slid down the cover hiding her body from him. Slowly, it was revealed, the velvet dips and inclines so exact, just as his mind would have willed them.

Hermione shuddered in her subconscious as the morning air caressed her skin. He smiled and placed his hand in the valley of her waist. He was rock hard already. He couldn't remember ever having had such constant sexual desire. Should he wake her? Her good humour may be restored today, but he hoped her lust was undiminished. It had been unexpected; he doubted it would be permanent, but he wished to take advantage of it while he could. Her vocal demands, her coarse language and her desperate need were something he had responded to with equal vigour, vigour that reminded him of whom he had been. As he stared down at her now, he wanted it again.

His hand began to press into her flesh, rubbing over her hip. She stirred, turning onto her back. His fingers crept down over the rise of her pubic bone where the soft curls of her hairs tickled him. He reached a long finger down, sliding it between the folds of flesh. The woman moaned a little and pressed against him. Even in sleep, she was needy. He continued to rub along the slit and felt it growing slicker and wetter with each pass.

"Lucius." He glanced up. Her eyes were still closed, but her body had awakened. She moaned long, stretching her limbs against the silks.

Lucius lowered his head to her breast, rising in its swell towards him, the nipple perched so dark on top. He sucked the ever-tightening bud deep into him, his fingers now working quickly, two pushed so far inside that it hurt his wrist.

His mind fogged, his cock groaned with need, all his life force centred around it, but still he needed to feel her, taste her, absorb her. His mouth pulled and tugged at the nipple. She moaned incessantly above him, her hands gripping his head, tangling so hard in his hair he hissed with pain. It didn't register with either of them. She pushed him ever harder against her. His teeth closed down on her nipple, his fingers rubbed hard over her clit. Hermione froze, her breath caught in the moment before she was torn apart. Then she shattered, a judder of sound tearing through her as she shook under him.

She stilled, slowly, her face breaking into the broadest smile.

Lucius glanced down at his cock, dripping relentlessly onto her hip, swollen and purple. He had to be inside her, but before he thought about sliding between her legs, the body beside him had moved, rising elegantly and fluidly. With a throbbing laugh, Hermione pushed him hard onto his back and swung her leg over him, placing herself just above his tip. She leaned over, pressing her nails into his smooth torso, scratching, and with a final look of anticipation, which he met with a twist of need, she lowered herself.

Lucius let out a sound of complete sensation. Every time he entered her, her tight wetness staggered him - like hot velvet. He held her hips, digging his fingers in as hard as she was flexing hers on his chest.

Hermione threw her head back and bit her lip.

"I missed you." She clamped around him, reinforcing his presence within her.

"You were asleep."

"I missed you. Even in my dreams, I missed you. I want you inside me constantly. I want to be joined to you always." She clamped hard around him; a shot of pleasure seared through him. He groaned aloud. She smiled and leaned over him again, pushing herself up his thick length slowly, surely, until he threatened to fall from her. She laughed before lowering herself just over the tip, then up again, almost out, then down, just that little bit, teasing the head of his cock with her pussy.

"Fuck!" he cried. She laughed again, not stopping her taunting pleasure.

Lucius mind flashed with urgency. He could stand no more.

With sudden violent brutality, he grabbed her hips hard and pulled her down fully onto him with a grunt of frustration. Hermione gasped in as his cock filled her with shocking completeness, yet her expression of surprise changed quickly into delight.

"Do that again." Her eyes closed and she felt his hands gripping her hard. He lifted her, before slamming her down onto his engorged hardness once again. It hurt her; it delighted her.


He did.

And again. Hermione let herself be guided solely by him. He was so good at it. She looked down. He was staring at his cock as it impaled itself time and again in her body. His brows were furrowed, his lips curled up in an expression of violent concentration. A surge of pleasure, of power, ran through Hermione.

She reached down and captured his lips in her own, thrusting her tongue with brutal certainty into his mouth. He met it with violent force, twisting, twirling to absorb all she had. Still, her body slammed down time and again onto him.

She pulled back a little but held his stare. "So close, so close, Lucius. You're so fucking big inside me, know that. Don't stop, don't stop."

He didn't, but he had lost all ability to respond, apart from through the tightness gripping his balls.

She leaned blearily over him again, her breasts jolting up with each movement of their bodies. "I don't want to go to Paris. I want to stay here. I want to stay here and fuck you all day. I want you to fuck me all day."

She clamped hard around him. He hardly heard her words; he was about to explode.

"Anything, my darling. Anything. Harder. Harder." He groaned out, unable to take his eyes away from where they were joined.

She slammed down onto him one final time, clasping in tight around his cock. With a cry of abandon, he burst into her, carrying her with him. She threw her head back and released her orgasm with a groaning heave of air. The force of her clenching around his rigid member forced another surge of come from him, his pleasure tearing through him once more.

"Fuck! Fuck, witch!" His speech became incoherent with rapture.

As her climax died from her, Hermione hung her head back and laughed loud with delight.

Lucius' breathing slowed and she slumped over onto him.

His hand came up to grip her head, stroking her tangled hair. "My darling, thank you, thank you."

She smiled against him. "We are magnificent together. Do you feel it? Do you feel it when we come? The power, the triumph."

He didn't answer but still held her close.

Minutes ticked away. He didn't want to pull out despite softening within her. "I suppose at some point we should get up and do something. Are you sure you don't want to go to Paris?"

"Yes! I told you what I want. You want it too, you know it."

Her voice was hard-edged again as it had been the day before. Her mood had not improved. Something inside him twinged with disappointment.

"Well, let's go and have some breakfast."

Hermione huffed and rolled off him. He slipped out suddenly. He noticed the loss. She, despite her needs, did not seem to. "Oh God. I don't think I can face that bloody elf of yours. Why the hell you employ him is beyond me." She turned away from him.

Lucius stared down at her, trying to subdue the disbelief that had taken hold of him. "He has been here a long time and he serves me well, despite his attitude. I ignore it. And I thought you did too."

Hermione got off the bed with a further sigh. "Oh, it doesn't matter. Come on then. But just something quick. My cunt is already burning without you."

With that she rushed to wash and dress. Lucius remained staring after her. Her use of the word came as a complete shock to him. The niggle in his mind was back and stronger than ever. However, it was equalled by the constant throb in his groin. He shook his head and threw on his robes.

They remained in the kitchen for breakfast. Grimble was wary of Hermione. He eyed her suspiciously but was careful, for the first time, to serve her assiduously. She ate her food fast but caught the elf's stare out of the corner of her eye.

"Stop gawping at me, will you, Grimble!? For God's sake! Haven't you got anything better to do?"

Ermintrude jumped up on the table. The elf hissed at it and went to shoo it away.

"Don't touch her! She doesn't want your filthy hands all over her. What harm is she doing?"

"Hermione!" Lucius' smooth tones interjected. "It is not appropriate to have an animal on the table. Grimble was acting appropriately."

"Trust you to bloody defend him!"

She stood up and stormed out of the room.

Lucius glanced at his elf with a look approaching shame. Grimble sneered before turning back to his duties. The wizard went after Hermione.

He found her in the sitting room, her body tense, pacing the room. She hardly noticed when he entered.

"Hermione." He took a deep breath. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Yes. Why?"

"You seem rather on edge."

She grimaced but did not stop pacing.

"Stop. Stop. What are you doing?"

He came over to her and held her, forcibly preventing her frantic motion. She initially tried to shake him off but finally allowed herself to be held. He pulled her into him and stroked her hair.

"You've been so jumpy, so quick to temper. Is something troubling you?"

"No. I just don't like him hanging around. I want you all to myself."

"You do have me all to yourself."

He lifted her face to his, stroking it tenderly and bent to kiss her. At first, it was as pure and sweet as their first kisses, but it was Hermione who then deepened it, opening his mouth hard with her teeth, searching inside with her tongue.

Her body became liquid in his arms; a surge of erotic power seemed to shoot through it. Immediately, she pressed against him, her leg sliding sensuously up his, drawing him yet harder against her. He responded in the only way he could.

"Yes, yes, that's it, that's it, my darling. I can feel you, I can feel you. I want to taste you, I want to taste your seed. It is all the sustenance I need."

Her voice was deeper than he was used to and contained such heavy lust that his mind swam with desire. Her hands had slipped down and undone his buttons, releasing his trousers to fall from him. He kicked them aside.

She brought her mouth to his ear. "You are beautiful, exquisite, pure. Tell me what you want me to do. I am yours. You must tell me. Do what you want. Do what you want with me. I deserve it."

He didn't fully process her words; his aching balls dominated his conscience. With a moan, he brought his hands to her shoulders and pushed her down. Her body slid away from him and he inhaled with anticipation.

She was kneeling before him, his cock swaying before her. But she turned her eyes up to his and spoke once again. "Tell me. Tell me." Her tongue flitted out, so close, but she held back.

"I want you to take me in your mouth. Take me deep, as deep as you can. Tongue, lips." He could barely form the words.

"Yes ... yes ..." She opened and slowly enclosed her mouth around him, pulling just the head hard against her cheeks as her tongue swirled and tasted it. He released a groan of pleasure.

She started to move gently at first, her tongue doing most of the work. He gazed down in rapt concentration, his breathing heavy. She was completely absorbed in her task, seemingly relishing what she was doing. He couldn't help reaching down and holding her, guiding her along him with increasing passion.

She sank deeper onto him, gagging a little as he hit her throat. He pulled back, not wanting to hurt her.

"No! More! I want it, I want it. I need to feel you. You need to." She immediately plunged down again. He couldn't argue and pushed her head against him, feeling himself this time sink into her throat with ease. He moaned out with the sheer overwhelming sensation.

Hermione pulled back with a gasp. She laughed in pleasure, looking up at him. "Do you know what that feels like? Do you know what it's like to have your perfect pureblood cock fucking my filthy little Mudblood mouth?"

Lucius tensed. But before his mind allowed him to question what was happening she had sucked him deeper than ever into her again, her tongue teasing him, her lips stroking him, her throat tightening on him. His body was strong and rigid, his muscles girding themselves for the release. He felt triumphant. It reminded him of a time long ago. A time he thought had vanished. Her tongue slid around him. He pushed deeper yet into her. He could tell she was struggling to take him all. At that moment, he didn't care. He held her head hard against him. Her eyes were watering but his cock was on fire. He pulled back, letting her scrape her delicious lips over him again.

Hermione gasped in air but in the same breath let out a laugh of sheer delight. "Yes, my magnificent pureblood. Do it. Come into me. I want to taste you now. Cleanse me, cleanse me with your seed."

Unthinkingly, he thrust back into her, forcing himself deep down her again. And again and again, brutally, all sense banished, only pleasure and power guiding him. And then he came, explosively, shooting out thick long bursts which hit the back of her throat. His head fell back as power gripped every fibre of his being, a cry of explosive rapture resounding off the walls.

Only after his pleasure had faded completely did he pull out and look down. She was panting heavily, coughing sporadically, her eyes red and wet, her lips puffy and swollen, her face streaked with white.

Lucius staggered and sank to his knees, sudden and overwhelming shame sweeping through him. He closed his eyes, unable to look at her.

Hermione crawled towards him and nestled, curling up in his lap.

"I'm sorry. My darling, I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me." He was holding his head in his hands, unable to bear the memory of what he had just done, a sob of remorse caught in his throat.

The woman coiled into him merely laughed. "Never be sorry. You did what was necessary. What we both wanted and needed. Did you feel the power? Your power?"

He was confused. Why was she talking like this? But he nodded anyway. He had undeniably felt it.

"You and I ... we are magnificent ... we are magnificent together. You will purge me, you will cleanse me ... pureblood and Mudblood; together, we will be triumphant."

He looked down at her, frowning. "You don't need to say those things. Why are you saying that?"

"It is the truth."

He closed his eyes again, trying to ignore her words, putting them down to erotic need and fervour. But the pleasure his body was experiencing - he did not think he had the strength to let go of it.

Slowly, he manoeuvred her away from him and stood to get a drink.

Not since his time in Azkaban had Lucius Malfoy been so troubled.

The next few days proceeded in a similar way. Hermione's mood did not improve. She snapped at Grimble and at Lucius. She did no work. Her sexual need grew beyond anything he could have anticipated.

Lucius' mind kept whispering to him, telling him that something was wrong, something beyond their control. And, as is so often the case with men when threatened with a shift in what has become welcome and familiar, he chose to ignore it.

He hoped it would sort itself out, hoped it was a hormonal imbalance which would lessen over time. It did not lessen, neither did he find himself in a position to do anything about it.

Her body, her desires, her sheer erotic force pursued him relentlessly, and he found himself unable and unwilling to resist. They spent nearly all day shut in the bedroom. But the pleasure they brought from each other transcended anything he thought possible. It was too good to deny.

But not only was she changing emotionally and sexually, physically she was altering. Hermione was not eating. Each time he held her slender frame in his hands, she seemed thinner and harder.

His mind was tormented. The only times it eased was when he entered her, when all reason shifted to the apex of his groin. It was only then that he felt safe, comfortable. When they came together, as they normally did, all desolation, all anxiety was swept away. It was not something he dared let go of.

But as he looked across at her at breakfast one day, three weeks after her first mood swing, he saw the light, that bright light she had brought back to him, fading from her eyes. She was unrecognisable as the woman who had first entered his house. His heart panged; his soul wailed. This was wrong.

He missed her.

Suddenly and helplessly, he missed her desperately. And at that moment, he wanted her back.

"I am going to take you to Bath today."

She looked up, her face sallow and pale. "Are you?" She sounded utterly disinterested.


Hermione sighed. "I don't really feel like it."

"Why not?"

"I haven't got much energy."

It was true. The only times she seemed to be imbued with any strength these days was when she was engaged in sex.

"I will look after you. We don't have to do much, but I think you need to get out of the house."

"Oh bloody hell, do we have to?"

He was used to her temper now. He ignored it.

"Yes, we do have to. I am going. And if you want to be with me, you will simply have to accompany me."

Hermione huffed and threw her spoon into her bowl of cereal with a loud clatter. "Haven't got much choice then, do I?"

"No," he drawled before standing and leaving her. "I'll see you in the hall in five minutes."

Lucius was almost surprised when Hermione appeared on time, dressed in Muggle jeans, top and coat. Her face was still pale, but she still held herself with the effortless grace of a woman of remarkable beauty and intelligence. He crossed to her and kissed her delicately on the lips. He should have known better. Immediately, her arms came around him, her strength grew, and she pressed herself against him, one hand reaching down to his groin.

He pulled back sharply. "No. Not now."

Hermione glared but took his arm. With a twist of his wand they disappeared with a pop from Malfoy Manor.

They arrived in a side street in Bath. Lucius drew himself up with satisfaction. As usual, he had managed to Apparate them to a discreet location, far from Muggle eyes. He turned to give Hermione a smirk. She was staring dejectedly ahead of her, utterly unimpressed by his smooth magic. His heart sank once again, but he was determined to make her happy, to try to draw some of her life force back out of her.

"Come along. We'll go to the Pump Room first. This place is so redolent of Jane Austen's time. You can feel the characters in her novels here - it's as if you will turn a corner and bump into Elizabeth Bennett." He was trying so hard.

"No part of Pride and Prejudice was set in Bath." She spoke with factual disinterest.

Every time she stabbed him. He sniffed deeply and guided her along the road.

They walked slowly through the Pump Room, Hermione keeping her arms folded close around her at all times. Lucius tried vainly to engage her in conversation but failed at every turn.

They moved onto the Roman Baths. Even Lucius was impressed by the ancient Muggle ingenuity on show. It was a remarkable feat of engineering and art and all 2,000 years old. His eyes danced as he looked out over the large bath, steam still rising, at it had always done, from the naturally hot water.

"Extraordinary, don't you think?"

She shrugged. "I came here on a school trip once."

"From Hogwarts?"

"No." She glared at him witheringly. "Primary school. You don't think I could have learnt anything from this once I was at Hogwarts, do you?"

He led her to the more remote parts of the bath complex. It was dark and gloomy in places but still full of fascinating exhibits. Lucius was more interested than he would let on. Hermione was not.

He looked back at her. Her eyes were trained on him for the first time all day, staring fixedly at his body. He knew what it meant. For once, he chose to ignore it.

He was leaning over, studying the plaque detailing the Roman occupation of the city. He felt a hand on his buttock. It began to rub slowly and sensually. He breathed in deep and drew himself up, turning to her. She was smirking up at him.

"Not here."

"Yes here."

"There's nowhere to go."

"Oh, Lucius, you know better than that; where there's a will, there's a way." She took his hand and led him over a rope barrier into a tunnel forged out of the rock, clearly marked private. He tried to resist but knew with her there was no choice.

She turned one corner so that they were just out of sight of any passers-by and immediately ripped at his clothes with frantic desperation. She soon gave up on his shirt and moved down to his trousers, quickly releasing his already hardening cock.

She laughed aloud. "You see? I know you better than you know yourself."

His mind had already fogged over. All his good intentions, all his hopes for the day had once again been reduced to the throbbing in his groin and the power rushing quickly through his limbs. He tore at her jeans, pulling them roughly down her legs. She kicked off her shoes and let the jeans fall from her legs. She no longer wore underwear.

"Open for me, open for me, witch."

If Lucius was disappointed in himself, he had forgotten. He could smell her pussy, wanted to be inside it, wanted to be nowhere else.

She raised herself up, drew one leg around him and felt him place himself desperately at her opening. Then, locking eyes with him, she pushed down as he thrust up. Her back scraped against the rough stone wall and she was impaled on him.

"Fuck, yes!" she hissed. "Why did you make me wait so fucking long?"

He could only groan in response as once again his cock was gripped exquisitely by her perfect heat.

"Move, you bastard, move now." Her voice was deep, urging him on. He obliged, powering in and out of her, pushing her hard against the rock wall.

Their pleasure built quickly and mutually. They both felt it, the power, the surge through them as their bodies worked together. He held her chin, turning it to look at him.

"That's it, that's it, Lucius. You remember, don't you? You remember what it felt like? Power, glory. It felt like this, it felt like this."

He grunted in acknowledgement, not slowing his strokes. Her voice was different; he hardly recognised it as hers. He didn't care. Her pussy was the same.

"You can have it again - you can be what you have to be. With me. Only with me. Pureblood and Mudblood. Malfoy and Granger. Think of our magic, Lucius, more powerful than anyone's. Think of what we can achieve together."

Still he fucked her, his cock pistoning in and out of her in brutal strokes. He couldn't stop.

"Think of how you feel when we come, when we come together. We are mighty, we are magnificent. Think of what's out there - all that - ours for the taking ..." She indicated down the corridor, down to the Muggle world, where voices could be heard among the ancient rocks. "It can be ours, Lucius, ours, all ours. Think of it, think of it when you come, when you feel my cunt gripping you."

He stared hard at her, his face twisting as pleasure took its inexorable hold on him.

He had never felt so powerful, so alive. She was right. With her, with this beautiful, incredible witch, he could achieve anything, anything.

Her body held him tight. She leaned into him and took his lower lip in her teeth, biting down on it until it bled.

He came suddenly and forcefully and with his pleasure came hers. He pinned her up around his cock while he burst into her, her body juddering against him. Their cries echoed around the small tunnel. They must have been heard.

Afterwards, Hermione and Lucius could do no more than slump onto the cold floor.

She looked across at him, smiling blearily. When she smiled, he clung onto the thoughts that had held him captive while inside her.

But as her smile faded, and her eyes left his, he was consumed with the profoundest desolation.

A Great Task of Solitude

A Harry Potter Story
by Laurielove

Part 16 of 27

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