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The Affair	By : soldiersgirl0709 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Lucius/Hermione Views: 34511 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I own nothing related to HP or the HP Universe, no money is made from the publication of this fic. Only friends and smiles. =)

Chapter List
- 12
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Chapter Thirteen: On My Day Off

We need others. We need others to love and we need to be loved by them. There is no doubt that without it, we too, like the infant left alone, would cease to grow, cease to develop, choose madness and even death.� - Leo F. Buscaglia

Hermione was tired. Not just the regular sort of tired that comes at the end of a busy day, but the bone deep, mentally draining kind of tired that comes when life has just beaten you to a pulp and left you to die. It was a dramatic train of thought, but it was how she felt. She had been home for four days, most of it alone, she needed to put a little distance between her and Lucius. Ron had stumbled in early on Sunday morning, just in time to shower and change for their weekly breakfast with his family.

He put on the happy face for his parents and siblings, pretending all was well, laughing at their jokes and joining the cheering for the Quidditch game on the wireless telly. Hermione refused to pretend so she remained quiet, sitting in a corner with a book she wasn�t paying attention to. She hadn�t paid attention to much for days if she was being honest. She could think of nothing but Lucius, the way it felt to be in his arms, to have his lips moving over hers, tasting her, arousing her. Why hadn�t she felt that way when Ron had tried to make love to her?

After their required time with the Weasley clan Ron had surprised her with a desire to go to Diagon Alley. He was in need of a new broom and the standard issue brooms in the department weren�t up to his standards. So while he wandered about the Quidditch outfitters looking for a new broom she lost herself deep within the stacks of Flourish and Blotts.

She breathed in the scent of the written word and happily explored their stock. She was at home among books; there was safety there for her, comfort. She was happiest when she had a book in her hand. She ran her fingertips along the shelves, occasionally pulling a book from its place for a look over. It was relaxing between the shelves in the quiet, upper floor of the shop.

Or it was until she rounded a shelf and found her face planted in the center of a strong male chest. She didn�t need to look up to recognize who it was; his scent was all it took. She closed her eyes when his hands rested on her waist and hers came up to lay flat against his abdomen.

�Lucius, what are you doing here?� She asked quietly, slowly raising her head to meet his gaze.

�I needed to get out of the house and decided to look for something new to read.� He pulled her close, his hands caressing the gentle curve of her hips beneath her robes. �I saw you come in.�

�You have a library filled with books, why are you buying new?� She wished it didn�t feel so good to be pressed against him, to have his large, comforting hands on her body.

�I can�t find a thing in there; it�s why I needed you in the first place.� He said, one hand coming up to touch her cheek lightly. �Now I need you, period.�

�We can�t�.we shouldn�t even be this close to each other.� She said though it didn�t stop her from sliding her hand up his chest to feel his heart pounding against her palm.

�I told you it was out of our control.� He said huskily. �Tell me you are coming back tomorrow. I have been miserable without you there.�

�I�ll be back tomorrow, but Lucius�we can�t�this has to stop.� She said, tilting her head slightly to the side as he pressed his nose against her throat and inhaled her soft, flowery scent.

�Hermione!� She stiffened instantly when she heard Ron�s voice distantly calling her name.

�Lucius, let me go!� She said, panicking. He held her tighter, his hand coming round to grip her chin.

�Tell me that I am not alone? I swear to god I am going mad thinking about you�tell me that you are too.� He said, the arm around her waist like a vise.

�Lucius, please! Ron is coming, if he finds us�.�

�I have nothing to fear from the Weasley boy, tell me, Hermione.� He demanded. She heard her name being called again, closer this time. She stared into Lucius�s bright silver eyes and felt the pull low in her belly.

�No�you aren�t alone, Lucius. I feel it�.I think about you too�.but it�s wrong�.how many times do I have to say that!� She was wriggling in his arms, trying to break free.

�I know it�s wrong! Regardless of what my past may indicate I know the difference between right and wrong but I also know that this is different�.this feels different. Tell me that you believe me when I say that this�what I feel when I am with you, is different. Tell me that it is different for you too.� He whispered, his touch on her face softening. She stopped struggling and closed her eyes, denying him was futile and the truth was, she was a terrible liar.

�It is different, Lucius. But it doesn�t make it right.� She said sadly. Ron called out for her again, this time he was very, very close by. �You have to let me go before he finds us, Lucius.�

�This isn�t finished.� He said, disillusioning himself and stepping behind her just as Ron rounded the corner.

�Didn�t you hear me calling you?� He asked, frowning. She could see that he carried a parcel wrapped in brown paper; clearly he had purchased a new broom.

�I was distracted. You bought a broom?� She felt Lucius behind her and she put her hands behind her back and tried to shoo him away. He clasped her wrist and gently pried open her fist one finger at a time.

�Yeah, with all the over time I have been clocking I thought it alright to splurge on the newest Firebolt.� Despite having just made a major purchase that should have pleased him, Ron still looked haunted and sad.

�Over time, right.� Hermione felt the light tracing of Lucius�s fingertip on her palm and the warm trail of magic as he marked her then curled her fingers around it. She felt his absence as he moved away from her and she sighed in relief.

�No books?� He asked, noticing her empty basket at her feet.

�No, not this visit. Lucius has given me permission to borrow what I like from his collection and so far I haven�t found anything in here that interests me enough to purchase.� She shrugged.

�Oh�well hurry up then so I can take you home.� He said.

�Do you have plans tonight?� She asked.

�Yeah, work. I�ll be late so��

�Don�t wait up, I know.� She said softly.

�Yeah, I�ll wait outside.� He wondered when it had gotten to the point that she couldn�t even look at him. She was always staring at the floor or the ceiling or some spot over his shoulder, never at him.

�There is no need. I am finished here.� Ron escorted her home, dropping her at the door before disappearing without even stepping foot inside their home. She fought the anger and frustration as she realized he was clearly lying to her about where he was going. It was a mess, a giant tangle that continued to pull tighter and tighter.

She walked into the bathroom and turned on the taps, the cast iron, Victorian tub filling with steamy hot water and foamy suds from the soothing cinnamon bubble bath she had added. She went to her bedroom for her robe and a book, undressing before she returned to the bathroom and stepped into the tub, sinking slowly into the comfort of the bath. With a sigh she opened the book she had brought from Lucius�s library, Lady Chatterley�s Lover.

She had never read it, though she knew of it. She relaxed and soon found herself lost in the pages. Oh how she could relate to Lady Chatterley, the loneliness, the helplessness. In her mind she saw the story play out clearly, her and Ron as Lord and Lady Chatterley, Lucius as the handsome, sexy gamekeeper who became her lover.

She was nearly halfway through when her palm began to tingle. She laid the book aside and stared down at her hand. She saw nothing until she ran her fingertip over the tingly skin and the shape of a heart glowed lightly in the center. He had traced it there, disillusioned behind her in the dim stacks of the bookshop while she spoke with her husband. He had spelled it so that she would never forget.

He made it so difficult to do what she knew was right. Perhaps the right thing to do would be to quit working for him, put distance between them but she was selfish. Working on his library made her happy and fulfilled without the pressures of a real job. And she would be a liar if she said that she wasn�t getting a bit of a thrill out of what was occurring between them.

She closed her eyes again and settled back into the warm water. She would have to get out soon, she was already pruning, but the hot water was so pleasant, her body relaxed and languid. A droplet of water ran down her throat and over the upper swell of her breast. She traced it with her fingers and was shocked to feel her skin prickle with awareness. Her fingernails dragged lightly over her skin, tickling, tantalizing. Down her throat and over the tops of her breasts her fingers traveled, slipping between the ripe mounds and beneath them to the sensitive crease below.

She cupped her breast in her hand and squeezed gently, moaning at the pleasure that shot through her at her own touch before squeezing harder. She tried to imagine the last time she had made love and enjoyed it but the memory did nothing for her. Biting her lip she began to create a fantasy in her head, only her husband wasn�t the star, it was Lucius. Immediately heat pooled between her thighs that had nothing to do with the bath.

Her nipples tightened to aching peaks. She brushed her thumbs over them and a jolt of electricity shot through the rock hard tips. Her fingers pinched, rolled and pulled on her nipples until she was moaning and writhing in the tub. It had been so long since she had felt the heat of arousal, the desire for sexual release that she wanted to enjoy it, to savor it.

While one hand continued to manipulate her painfully erect nipples her other hand, the marked hand, slid slowly down her belly beneath the water, tunneling into the neat patch of hair crowning her sex and lower between the swollen folds now slippery with her own lubrication. She actually cried out when her finger brushed over the burgeoning bud of her clit, the sound of her own voice startling her for a moment. Over and over she stroked the tight, achy little protrusion, feeling the tension and painful need swell inside her. She propped her feet on the sides of the tub, spreading her legs wide as she fingered her long neglected sex.

�Oh god�� She muttered arching into her fingers as her orgasm approached, her thighs quivering with anticipation and her body tightening. She was unable to contain the hoarse shout that left her lips as she was lost in the sensation of release. Her pussy pulsed beneath her fingertips as she continued to stroke and circle her fingers over the hot, clutching flesh until she nearly slid beneath the surface of the water.

Still shaking she dragged herself out of the tub. Her head was swimming from the release, she was too dizzy to dry herself or slip into her robe, she stumbled through the doorway and into her bedroom, falling onto the mattress with a groan as her body continued to throb in the aftermath. Had it really been a year since she had felt the mindless pleasure of an orgasm? Had she ever felt it as keenly as she did while fantasizing about a man she shouldn�t?

She couldn�t fight the blackness as it swarmed over her, pulling her into its decadent arms and lulling her into oblivion. Her dreams an erotic montage of what could be if she would only give in to her own desires.

~@~

Lucius paced�no, he prowled the length of his bedchamber like a predator aching for a hunt. He was barefoot, wearing only his trousers and an unbuttoned white shirt, distracted from his preparations for bed by thoughts of her. Without him noticing, the brilliant little mudblood had gotten under his skin. She was in his every thought, causing his head to ache from her presence. No one else had managed that in all his years, not even his wife and he had been deeply in love with her in the beginning.

He had been tempted more than once in the past. It was hard not to be when the Dark Lord paraded naked women in front of his death eaters like a smorgasbord of carnal delights. Female deatheaters were notoriously promiscuous, often turning revels into orgies. Beautiful women had offered to service him in any number of ways and he had considered it from time to time but something in him kept him true to his wife.

He was somewhat of an oddity amongst wealthy pureblood males, married and single alike in that he did not keep a steady mistress. Hell even his own son had a sweet little witch tucked up in a small townhouse near Hyde Park. His sister in law had made passes at him and while she had been certifiably insane the Dark Lord had sworn that a better lay could not be had in all of England.

Yet not once had the consideration been more than fleeting, at least not before her. What made her different? What made him want her so? She was everything he once hated, muggleborn, bold, associated with Potter, better than his son in every subject. Now she was everything he wanted and it made no sense.

She was married, so was he, she was nowhere near as beautiful as his wife, she was too intelligent for her own good but she was also kind, forgiving, real and open, loving. He shook his head and stopped by his window to look out at the barren winter landscape. His fingertips began to tingle and he knew she had realized that he had marked her with his magic.

He smirked softly, wondering what her reaction was. He closed his eyes and called on his magic; using the tenuous bond he had formed with her by marking her palm to discern her feelings. The moment he connected with that faint thread of magic connecting them he stumbled beneath the wave of sexual arousal that swamped him. He braced his hand against the edge of his bureau, hanging on to the connection and trying to dig just a little deeper, his fingertips burning as he curled them into his palm. He smiled in relief, she wasn�t having sex with her husband as he had originally feared, she was masturbating�.and thinking of him while she did it.

He let go of the connection, satisfied with her mental state. He opened his eyes and exhaled long and slow. He rubbed his aching cock through the material of his trousers, wishing he possessed strong enough magic to let him actually see what she was doing and thinking instead of only feeling it.

He went to his bed and reclined against the pillows. He used the fingers of his left hand, tingling still from their connection to stroke his chest, running his fingers through the sparse, silky hair on his chest. He fingered his nipples lightly imagining it was her dainty fingers teasing him. Down over his abdomen his fingers moved, following the line of golden hair from his navel to the buttons on his trousers.

He groaned when he unbuttoned his fly and released his turgid length to the cool air of the room. He hurt. He couldn�t remember ever being so hard in his life. His hand delved low to fondle his balls, rolling them in his hand as he began to lightly stroke his shaft with the tips of his fingers. He drew back his foreskin and teased the sensitive tip, spreading the thick, cloudy fluid oozing from the slit over the crown. In his head it was her cool, soft fingers handling his stones while her tongue laved his tip.

He reached into his nightstand for a bottle of unscented massage oil and poured it into his hands, rubbing them together to warm it before returning them to his sac and shaft. He gripped his cock firmly in his fist, rolling his balls gently as he began stroking slowly from base to tip and back again. His foreskin sliding over the head with every pass and stimulating him more. In his head she was spread out on a bed of roses, her face flushed and her lips parted. Her thighs spread wide as he shafted her tight, wet pussy with long, deliberate strokes that had her crying his name.

His stones drew up tight and began to pulse as the burning desire to come rolled through him. He tightened his grip, quickened his strokes, arching into his hands as though thrusting into her body until he nearly jackknifed with the intensity of his orgasm. Streams of white, sticky cum shot forcefully from the tip of his ruddy cock to land on his stomach and soil his trousers. He gasped, falling back onto the pillows with his chest heaving and his slowly deflating cock twitching and pulsing against his belly.

He hadn�t come so hard in ages, his balls ached from the force of it and his strength was sapped. He couldn�t even muster the strength to clean his seed from his flesh as his eyelids drooped and then fluttered closed, oblivion claiming the sated wizard and thrusting him into a world where happiness was his in the form of a bushy haired little witch.

~*~*~*~*~**~***~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Ok, sorry for the lack of review response�I have a sinus infection that�s making me grumpy LOL�..BUT I appreciate your comments. I love hearing from you and learning how a story affects the reader, I especially love it when you begin searching deeper and trying to make predictions, as a writer it tells me I have sparked your imagination and gotten you thinking and that is truly the greatest compliment. So thank you all and I hope everyone has a happy Thanksgiving(if you are American) and for everyone else, have a happy day!

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The Affair