Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Book One - Master Mine: A Lesson in Submission	By : Lissa & snowblind12 Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 58471 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 8
Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with JK Rowling or The Harry Potter franchise in anyway. I make no money off my stories.

Chapter List
- 15
- 16
- 17
Chapter Sixteen
Saturday December 30^th
7:32 AM
Dearest Doll,
I trust you slept well after our exploits last night, pet. I know I was hard pressed to rouse you enough to see you home. When you wake, I have a brief assignment for you as well as some instructions for tomorrow.
First, we never did establish what exactly I wish for you to do with this journal. I would like for you to enter what you have eaten daily. You may put it into the notebook after each meal, or you may enter it all at the end of the day. A simple description will suffice. Example: Breakfast – hard boiled egg on a muffin with a banana.
You have until 10:30 each night to enter your dietary choices for the day or you will be punished the next time I see you. Hmm…I think five strikes with a strap or paddle of my choosing for each offence would be appropriate. And just in case you think that wouldn’t be so bad, I dare you to miss a day and find out. That would be fun for me.
Second, you will strive to get seven hours of sleep each night. I heard your concern about this task, but I will maintain its importance. You will record what time you went to bed and what time you woke every morning before 9:00. A simple: 11:30-6:30 will suffice. If you know you will not get seven or more hours of sleep, you will explain why briefly before you go to bed at the end of the day. We will discuss your reasonings and punishments will be dealt with as I see fit. Punishments may include physical or restrictive – such as a spanking OR having to stay home from the club one night in order to “catch up” on your sleep. I have a room being prepared for you at the Manor, and I will make you sleep there if this rule is consistently brushed aside.
Third, please keep track of your exercise. You are very slender, my little slave. I know you pride the fitness of your physique, but even healthy pursuits in excess can be detrimental. I want to monitor your intake of calories with your output of exertion.
The formalities completed, I wish to discuss New Years Eve with you. I do realize that it is a Sunday, and outside of our weekly scheduled dinners, you have no obligation to me. However, I was hoping that I could entice you to submit to me tomorrow evening. There is a yearly masquerade ball at The Dungeon and nothing would make me happier than having you on my arm. Please answer the question of your accompanying me post haste and I will respond with further instructions.
Yours,
Master
Saturday December 3oth
8:04 AM
Master,
I have read and understand all your instructions, sir. I will do my best to comply with them always.
I have no plans for New Years and even if I did, would change them to happily submit to you. Please arrange times for your convenience. I await further instruction.
Yours,
Doll
Saturday December 30th
8:47 AM
My precious Pet,
You have no idea how much your words have pleased me. Your instructions for tomorrow are to complete your normal routine through lunch and then take at least a two-hour nap. You are to present yourself to my mercy at 4:30 in the afternoon at Malfoy Manor as my submissive until we leave for dinner at 7. After dinner, we will return to the Manor to change into our costumes before attending the ball. You will submit to me until Monday morning when you wake. I look forward to tomorrow, pet.
Affections,
Your Master
Saturday December 30^th
10:11 AM
Master,
Sleep – I fear I did not attain seven hours of sleep last night as I was with you at the club until 1:00 AM. I slept from 1:30-7:30 when my collar became warm with your journal entry. If it would please you, I will offer to nap this afternoon to make up for lost sleep.
Breakfast – Oatmeal with brown sugar and cream, a banana, and tea with sugar.
Exercise – Free weight training, upper body. 40 minutes.
Snack – trail mix – dried fruit, nuts, and dark chocolate.
I am also looking forward to tomorrow.
Yours,
Doll
Saturday December 30th
10:22 AM
Yes Doll,
Your offer to nap would please me. At least an hour. Enter the times in your journal. Once you have done this, you are forgiven for your transgression.
Master
Sunday December 31^st
1:13 PM
Master,
Sleep – 11:30p-6:30a
Breakfast – Two poached eggs, multigrain toast, mixed berries
Exercise – Six-mile outdoor run
Snack – apple with peanut butter
Lunch – Shrimp salad with mango and cucumber

I will be laying down shortly. I plan to take a mild sleeping potion that lasts 2 hours. I’m excited and nervous and feel I will not be able to rest despite not sleeping in this morning. Looking forward to our evening together, Master.
Yours,
Doll
Lucius stared at the words that had appeared a little over two hours ago in his copy of their communication journal. Yours, Doll. She had signed every note thus far with this farewell, even when she had penned in her daily requirements before she had gone to bed the night before. So far, she was doing well with his eating and sleeping demands, however, her office had been closed the week between the holidays. He wondered how much that would change once she was back to work. He let out a long, low sigh before closing the notebook without responding. If he responded he’d be sickeningly transparent in his affection for her, which he could not afford to be.
“Tinny,” he announced to the empty room. With a crack! the elf appeared and immediately sank into a deep curtsy.
“Yes, Master Lucius?” she squeaked. Lucius gave the elf a fond little smile.
“I wish you to prepare the Cornflower guest chambers in the East Master’s Hall.” Lucius instantly fell into his directives. “It must be ready by four-thirty. I will need your expertise tonight with a thick and quite unruly feminine mop of curls. First for dinner out, then again for the costume ball at the club tonight. I also wish you to assist her with her make-up as needed. My estimation for times will be five-thirty and again around nine-thirty.”
“Is the shopping Tinny be doing for the lady?”
“Yes, Tinny,” Lucius praised. “Please feel free to box the outfits as gifts and place them on the bed. All the bits and bobbles women think they need to be pretty can go in the dressing table. This room will be Miss Granger’s when she visits us here until further notice.” He gave a small flick of his hand, gently dismissing the little creature. The elf hesitated for a moment and Lucius raised an eyebrow. “Do you have a question, Tinny?”
“Yes, Master,” Tinny squeaked and gave another bobbing curtsy. “I’s been…well, all we elves’ has been wondering…are yous courting the lady, sir? Is we to be having a new Mistress? Is this be why you is setting hers up ins the family wing?”
The more easily rankled piece of his personality bristled at the question, even as his chest filled with longing. Wouldn’t it be lovely to have a woman’s touch in the Manor again? He let out a slow breath as to not snap at his charge. “No, Tinny. She is a special young lady, that is for sure. You and all the other elves are to treat her with respect any Mistress of the Manor would command, but I am not courting her. I am training her.”
Lucius was aware the elves knew of his predilections for Dominance and, while none would ever dare to openly disapprove (save possibly Tinny), he knew they were wary as to what it meant. Lucius had only ever had two training submissives before, and he remembered both fondly. However, both women had been his while he was married. Therefore, he never brought them to the manor. He would never subject Narcissa to their presence. He respected her too greatly and was grateful for her openness and understanding for his darker tastes in sexual pursuits. He had held affection for both women, but no love. They had been purely physically compatible. Narcissa was the only woman he had ever truly loved, and she had known that.
Before Narcissa had died, he had used his London flat for his submissives. Since Narcissa had died, he had only seriously taken on already trained submissives three times. Two of the woman had lasted less than six months, the other had lasted almost a year. All three of these women had been brought to his home. However, they had been given suites in the guest wing, not in the Master wing. While Hermione was his submissive, he just couldn’t put her in a place less than what was due to her. She was more special to him then past submissives, and he wanted his staff to realize this.
He had contemplated setting her up in the secret Mistress Suite off the Master, but felt perhaps she would not find that as amusing as he would. The room itself hadn’t been used in almost a hundred and ten years. To be a love interest of a Malfoy had been a place of honor. Once upon a time, woman had fought for that privilege. Times had changed, though. Taking a Mistress was no longer socially acceptable. Also, he was no longer married. Even if he could be with her seriously, she would not be his Mistress. Instead, he would be courting her for marriage.
“She is more special to me than past submissives, Tinny.” Lucius surprised himself when he started to explain. “She has become a cherished friend, but I will not be pursuing her for marriage.”
“I’s understanding, Master,” Tinny responded with a prim nod of her head.
“Thank you, Tinny.” Lucius again dismissed the elf with a wave of his hand, and this time the elf cracked! out of existence.
As expected, Hermione flooed in right on time. Lucius greeted her with a genuine smile as he stood from his wing back chair. He reached out a hand for her. She accepted the gesture, so he could pull it to his lips and kiss her knuckles. “You look positively delicious, all disheveled from your nap, pet.”
She gave a husky chuckled at that as he divested her of her traveling cloak. “Thank you, sir,” she murmured. “The sleeping draught was a little more potent than I expected. I wound up sleeping almost three hours. I am grateful I decided to set an alarm.” Once her cloak was hung, he pulled her hand into the crook of his arm and led her out of the study to the main entry to climb the grand staircase.
“While we are in private, in my home or yours, I would much prefer you call me Lucius. Especially when we are interacting in non-sexual situations,” he told her as they ascended to the second floor. “That is, if you’re comfortable doing so, Hermione.”
“Of course! I would like that, Lucius.” She gave him a brilliant smile, which made him smirk until her brow creased with worry. “I just don’t wish to make a mistake with your title. It is a little confusing. Master at the club, sir in private – unless it’s here and in a non-sexual atmosphere, Mr. Malfoy in public, Lucius for our Sunday dinner… Do you see my dilemma?”
“I do. How about this, I will never punish you for a mistake with my title unless you are under explicit instructions. You’ll be allowed one mistake and a verbal correction as our circumstances change, or as my mood changes. I will correct you, and then you will be expected to continue with that course until I correct you with a new change. The only place you will not be allowed a slip is at the club. There I am always Master. Fair enough?”
“Fair enough, Lucius.” They made small talk as they wandered purposely through the hallways of Malfoy Manor until they reached the suite he’d had prepared for her.
“While you are my submissive, Doll, this room will be yours when you are with me here.” He pushed open the door and Hermione gaped in surprise as she took in her surroundings.
The room was huge. In fact, she was pretty sure her whole flat could fit inside of it. It was done mostly in creams, golds, and beautiful cornflower blue. The massive, bigger-than-king-sized, bed was a four poster with a scalloped cream-colored canopy that had gold fringe. The seclusion draperies were gold and hung heavy and almost concealed the white and gilded woodwork of the bedframe. The head board was also gilded and upholstered in cornflower and sky blue, while the bedding was a shimmery cream and piled with decorative pillows. Behind the headboard, more draperies hung in the same blue hue. A dark wooden nightstand stood on each side of the bed topped with lamps and simple, sage colored upholstered chairs sat next to each stand.
At the food of the bed was a fainting couch, across from which sat a davenport. There was an upholstered coffee table between. A matching arm chair sat next to the sofa. The antiqued hardwood floor – most likely original to the house – was covered by a large oriental rug in deep royal blue, green, creams, and golds. On the floor next to each side of the bed and in front of the fireplace were large, white fur rugs that temped Hermione to shed her shoes and sink her bare feet into.
The fireplace was simple, but elegant. A white wooden mantel framed dark stone. A large portrait hung over the top of it. Next to the fireplace were dark wooden doors that she assumed led to a dressing room or closet of some sort.
There was a large bay window across from the brazier that sported a slender half door that she decided must lead to a balcony. There were four draperies that hung heavily to the floor topped with a scalloped valance. The space sported a dressing table with mirror and two decorative candle-lit lamps. Two ornate, wooden sconces jutted out from each side of the little nook and held large, white pillar candles. On each side of the window alcove were marble topped sideboards covered with nick knacks and a lamp. Above each table were large, gilded mirrors.
All walls sported low, boxed wainscoting in gilded cream that came to her hip. Above the wainscoting, silk Victorian flock wallpaper hung in gold and cornflower blue and was topped with an intricate boarder before meeting thick, curved crown molding that matched the other woodwork in the room. Each rounded corner of the room was decorated with a Victorian-style hand carved, gilded design. The ceiling was high, Hermione guessed between fourteen and sixteen feet. Out of the center of it hung an ornate brass chandelier.
The most spectacular detail of the room, however, was that on each side of the bed were hand woven tapestries of what appeared to be the Garden of Eden.
“This is incredible, sir.” She turned her lovely doe eyes on him. “I thank you.” She hesitated for a moment before resting a hand on his shoulder, reaching up, and placing a tender kiss to his lips. Lucius responded automatically, pleased with her unguarded reaction. Checking himself carefully as to not wrap his arms around her and pull her into a much deeper snog, Lucius pulled back after only a moment.
“You’re most welcome, love,” he responded. “Now, we best start getting you ready for dinner. I have seven o’clock reservations at Amortentia.”
“Oh, my,” Hermione’s eyes widened. She had never been to Amortentia, and was uncertain if the dress she had shrunk down and tucked into her bag would do. “I’m not sure the outfit I chose for tonight will suffice, sir…” She trailed off at the humor filled look on his face. “What?” she questioned.
“Your wardrobe will be provided, Hermione,” he smirked at her as he nodded to the two large boxes on the bed. Hermione cocked her head in apparent surprise.
“I knew you were going to provide my costume, sir,” she said carefully, “but I don’t expect you to outfit me for every get together or date.”
Lucius’ smirk broadened into a grin. “Oh, but Hermione. You signed a piece of paper that allows me to choose your outfits for you in submissive situations. You agreed to submit to me for dinner preparation this evening.”
“I – ” She broke herself off as she let his words sink in. “Oh, all right. I’m not about to argue with my Master.” She shook her head with a rueful smile. “You tricked me,” she scolded with a teasing tone. “I had momentarily forgotten you were a Slytherin.”
This made him chuckle as he carefully wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her against the length of his body. Dropping his lips to hers, he claimed his first taste of her tongue for the evening. He pulled back, pleased to find the lustful expression in her eyes before he led her to the en suite bathroom. “Your submission will start with my bathing you, pet,” he told her as she paused to take in the extravagant lavatory. Hermione’s gaze had settled on the huge, copper claw foot tub that was patinaed on the outside. It was a statement piece, and he knew it. This bathroom had been a very recent renovation, and he liked how much she seemed to appreciate its appearance.
His voice and eyes had changed the next time she looked to him. “Strip, Doll. Slowly.”
Hermione swallowed hard, her heart instantly going into double time. “I’m in for a world of delayed gratification again tonight, aren’t I, sir?” she blurted with no censor. This made Lucius throw his head back in jubilant mirth.
“I promise to not be as hard on you as I was this previous week, pet,” he teased, wiping the corner of one eye before he cupped her face in both his hands. They were so large, they almost swallowed her head whole. He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead that made her feel quite precious. His chuckles sobered when her eyes fluttered shut and she leaned into him. “It is a holiday, after all. And you were such a good girl Friday night.” His voice had darkened again when he told her how good she had been, and Hermione felt her womb quicken and an instant deluge of liquid heat flood her knickers. He let her go and stepped back.
“Sweet Circe,” she whispered. Her eyes remained closed as she took a deep breath, stealing herself before opening them and starting to undress. Lucius’ gaze dropped to her hands, which were currently unbuttoning her blouse at her neck. He circled her slowly before moving to lean against the counter, crossing his ankles. A thumb and forefinger came up to cup his chin and brush his lips as he avidly watched her disrobe.
He watched her penetratingly, his eyes often straying to the necklace she had charmed to be a rose-gold choker today. Hermione took great pleasure in the fact that his trousers visibly tightened before her eyes. At one point during her little strip tease, he had flicked his wand at the tub, which magically filled. When she was bare, he said nothing. Simply held out his hand, palm up, gesturing for her to take it.
It felt very overwhelming to be the only one naked, especially when his attention was so heavily focused on her. She pushed down her discomfort and followed his non-verbal directions to step over the lip of and then settled down into the tub, which – of course – was the perfect temperature.
Hermione let out a low moan as she settled into the water, it felt wonderful. She used her fingers to card through her hair and gather it onto the top of her head before twisting it and leaning her head back against the curved lip of the hammered copper. When her attention returned to her Master, she felt a blush heat her cheeks at the unguarded look of desire he was giving her. “Are you joining me, sir?” she murmured, lowering her lashes so they fanned across the swell of her pinked cheeks.
“No, Miss Granger,” he answered her softly. She returned her watchful eyes to him and was astonished to find him rolling his sleeves to mid-forearm. “I wish to wash those curls of yours.” He gestured her to sit forward in the tub so her hair would drain into the water and not onto the floor. Pulling up an ornate wooden stool, Lucius settled at the head of the bath near a table that held all the necessary supplies. He reached around and tilted her chin up slightly before the first silver pitcher of water was gently poured onto her head. He repeated the process until her locks were heavy with the weight of the water. There was a pause and then soap slicked hands tangled into her hair, finger tips massaging her scalp.
Little whimpers of pleasure left her as Lucius took his time washing, then conditioning her hair. He massaged her temples and scalp and neck, slipping his fingers around and under the piece of jewelry that marked her as his. He made her feel as cared for as a small child. Hermione had brief thoughts of how silly this should make her feel, but in reality, the word “cherished” kept flitting around the recesses of her mind. She had read about this part of submission, of course. However, it was something she had not thought to experience with Lucius. Her understanding was that a relationship with more of an emotional connection was where this sort of bond would be forged.
Lucius had always enjoyed this part of having a collared submissive. When doing impromptu scenes with random women at the club, the emotional connection of a D/s relationship often fell to the wayside. Of course, there was aftercare – massages, creams, healing potions, blankets, water, food, holding someone – but the intimate caregiving side was missing. And Lucius took as much pleasure in these simple acts as he did the Dominant performances. They were the part of this lifestyle that allowed him complete control over another’s activities of daily living. It took time and patience and mutual understanding to cultivate this intimacy.
Today with Hermione should have been awkward, as it was their first time participating in an activity like this. It only wasn’t because of the relationship they had built with each other over the last couple of months. It was even less awkward because of their compatibility. Whether she would admit it or not, they were extremely well-suited.
When he finished with her hair, he piled it on top of her head and used a few sticking charms to keep it there. Then he dampened and soaped a flannel. With one hand, he encircled her neck, using the tips of his fingers to apply light pressure and raise her chin out of the way. He guided her head to rest in the curve of his arm while he let the flannel glide down between the valley of her breasts. He was turning her on, which was evident in the way her breathing changed and her nipples tightened. Patiently, he ignored the tightness of his slacks and continued to methodically wash her, re-lathering the flannel as needed.
He directed her to stand and turn to face him while smoothing the wash cloth down her stomach to her hips and thighs before gently washing her mons. He stifled a chuckle when her hands tightened into fists at her sides and her head dipped back as a low mewl escaped her. When she was again sitting with her back to him, he used the pitcher to rinse her upper body before delving his hands below the heat of the water to her lower body. She squirmed wonderfully, soft little pants breaking the silence between them.
The entire time the only words he spoke were soft directions. The tension was mounting lusciously in her body and, wanting her to be relaxed, he felt he would play nice and help her relieve the pressure.
Lucius pressed his cheek to the damp hair at the side of her head and settled his mouth so his low tenor of murmured words would fall directly into her ear. His lips would brush the delicate cartilage there when he spoke. He encircled his left hand around her breasts, letting it slip and slide over the damp skin and tease her beaded nipples as his right hand disappeared into the water to delve into her folds.
“You like this, don’t you princess?” he murmured as he pulled one nipple with his fingers, rolling it, and causing her to gasp loudly and arch her breasts into his hand.
“Yes, sir,” she answered breathlessly.
“Tell me what you like about it, pet,” he demanded, all the while his right hand slowly slid lower. She rolled her hips, trying to get his fingers to move more quickly to her desired destination.
“It makes me feel wanted,” she whispered, shuddering as two fingers parted her labia and slid through the silky smoothness of her sex.
“And…?”
“And cared for…cherished…” Her voice was barely audible.
“Yesss,” he hissed into her ear as his digits slipped back the hood of her clitoris and touched the pearl of nerves.
“Mmm!” Hermione bit her lip as she pressed her head into his face, seeking his affection, his attention. She wanted his mouth on her jaw and neck and lips as his hands played her body like a finely tuned fiddle.
“As your Dominant, I shall always endeavor to make you feel cherished. It is what you are above everything else,” he murmured. “Even when you are being punished, you are cherished. Even when you are denied, you are cherished. When you submit, you are the center of my world. Everything I do is to take care of your needs – all your needs. Your basic needs, your emotional needs, your carnal needs.” His fingers moved faster and faster. His lips stayed close to her ear, but his tongue darted out to taste the mix of clean skin, water, and a touch of salty sweat.
His left hand grasped one breast and squeezed, holding her in place as her hips bucked under his torturous ministrations. “You are treasured, pet,” he continued. “I cherish you. You are everything that I want; you will learn to be everything I need, and I will learn to be everything you need.” Her sounds were becoming more desperate and her body started to tremble violently. “Come for me, Doll. Say my name.”
“Oh, Gods,” she groaned at his command as her body came apart in his hands. “Lucius!” she wept. Her emotions were in turmoil and her heart was thundering. Shattered was the only word she could think of. He had shattered her completely with his ministrations. All of them. The bath, the words, the actions. She sagged back into him, going limp under his hands. She didn’t understand the tears that welled in her eyes, but she didn’t fight them either. His right hand slid back up her body to her chin so he could tilt her face up and around to his.
She expected to find him smug, pleased with himself for turning her into a puddle of sated flesh. Instead his eyes were clouded with an emotion that was surprising, but when she blinked, it was gone. In it’s place was the satisfied smirk she had expected. His lips settled over hers and she sighed into the kiss as he used his thumb to brush away the tears she hadn’t realized she had let fall. “Beautiful,” he murmured against her lips.
When he broke the kiss, he guided her to lay back in the tub. He wrapped his arms around her collar bones, settled his cheek against the top of her head, and waited until her breathing returned to normal. When it did, he pressed another soft kiss to her head.
“I am going to leave you now. My house elf, Tinny, will be by to assist you in dressing and preparing for dinner. I will send her to you in a few minutes. Feel free to soak and relax until she arrives.” Hermione looked up at him as he stood, a soft smile curving her lips.
“What is that look for, Miss Granger?” He raised an eyebrow, a slight sneer curling his lip. Her expression made him feel naked, vulnerable.
“It is gratitude, sir,” she murmured. “Thank you.”
He paused, looking slightly surprised, before his face smoothed into a gentle smile of his own. He should have known it would be something sweet. She was sweet. “You are most welcome, Doll. I will see you in about forty-five minutes.”
She made a noise of agreement even as her head tipped back onto the lip of the tub, her eyes sliding shut with contentment. He gave her one last, long look, before leaving to ready himself for the evening.
A few minutes later, an adorable little house elf popped into the room with the usual, resounding crack! She held a large, thick towel in her hand and tutted when Hermione jumped, startled by the sound.
“Comes, little Miss.” The elf snapped her fingers and the towel spread itself open right to Hermione’s height. “We’s hasn’t gots all night. The Master is expecting yous to be perfects in appearance!”
It took effort for Hermione not to burst into a fit of giggles at the commanding presence of the house elf. A fleeting thought brushed the edges of her mind. I wonder if that’s how people feel about me? Bossy and sassy all wrapped up in a tiny, little package.
Hermione’s amusement only grew as Tinny (the elf introduced herself when asked) continued to snap her fingers and prance around her while she buffed, lotioned, and dressed her body before she brushed, twisted, and tamed her curls into submission. The result was almost intoxicating.
Hermione stared into the ornate floor mirror in shock. She looked sophisticated, but generationally appropriate. Lucius had not subdued her into traditional witch’s dress robes, but dressed her up in a festive, Muggle-like cocktail dress. It was black, overlaid with metallic gold that reminded her of sequins and had a high scoop neck and long sleeves. It hugged her breasts and hips without making her look cheap, but only fell to mid-thigh. The length of the dress, coupled with the fact it had a low, low scooped back that rested just above her bum, made her feel ridiculously sexy.
Because of the daring back she had to go braless, but was wearing black thong panties with a lace garter belt and sheer stockings. The garter belt was charmed low on her hip, so as not to be visible in the back. On her feet were a sensible pair of shiny black kitten heels. After a moment of thought, she touched her collar with her wand and it widened into a thick, gold choker with the little Malfoy Crest charm dangling slightly. She wore no other jewelry, she didn’t need to.
Hermione’s chestnut hair had been straightened (which was amazing – she would have to beg Tinny for the charm) and had hung just past her hips until the elf had gathered and twisted it into a thick French plait on the left side of her head before knotting it off just below her ear and letting it flow over her shoulder where it reached her waist. There were a few tendrils loose, framing her face. Her make-up had been done naturally except for a light, smoky eye and a deep, burnt red color on her lips. She had laughed when she had read the name of the lip color – “spellbound”.
She was twisting and turning in the mirror, trying to decide if it was really Hermione Granger looking back at her, when a throat being cleared caught her attention. She spun quickly to find Lucius in the doorway wearing a very tailored, GQ-esque looking wizard robe – all black, of course. His hair was caught back at the nape of his neck with a leather chord. She found that it took considerable effort not to gape at him like a buffoon. As it was, her brain lost its filter for the second time that evening.
“You look gorgeous!” she exclaimed, crossing the room quickly. She was completely oblivious to the way he was devouring her with his eyes. Reaching to straighten his bow tie, she then also smoothed a loose tendril of hair from his forehead. “I am one lucky witch tonight, Lucius Malfoy!”
The look of pleased surprise on his face made her smile softly up at him. “I believe it is I who is the lucky one,” he told her, his voice thick with desire. “I wish for you to take three steps away from me, Doll, and then spin in a slow circle. Show your Master how you prepared for him this evening.”
Hermione’s breathing changed instantly as need flooded her with his words. She swallowed hard as she took the requested steps away and complied with his instructions. A hiss of approval when her back was to him caused gooseflesh to erupt over her entire body. Especially when her slow pirouette was halted by fingertips running the length of her spine and a hot mouth pressing to the nape of her neck, over her collar.
“Absolutely stunning, pet,” he rasped into her right ear. “I will be the most envied man at the restaurant tonight.”
She smirked as she leaned back into him. “We shall be quite the pair, then, sir,” she teased in a husky voice. “I believe I may have to hex women left and right, they won’t be able to keep their eyes off you.”
She glanced up at him over her shoulder, lips twisted in a coy little smirk. He groaned and rested his forehead against her temple before pressing a light kiss to the crest of her cheek bone. “As much as I wish to skip the meal entirely and ravish you here and now, I fear we will drop from starvation. Our night stretches out long before us. Come, love, we must be off.”
Hermione had never stepped foot in Amortentia. Being a frugal and practical person, she didn’t believe in spending money on expensive food. Clearly, her Dominant held no such reservations and she could only shake her head at the extravagance of the exclusive bistro. Looking around her, the small restaurant was brimming with excitement and activity. Every table was occupied, and bottles of champagne floated amongst the patrons filling glasses that were missing anything more than a sip. It was New Year’s Eve after all, and the celebration was in full force.
A short and stout wizard with a heavy French accent and a waxed mustache that reminded Hermione of Captain Hook, led the couple out a side door to an outdoor patio which was suspiciously warm given the time of year. The patio held a magnificent view of the River Thames with rolling hills in the background. Hermione couldn’t conceal her confusion and Lucius was quick to explain the room was a charmed space.
They were seated at a small table for two and Hermione could not help but notice theirs was the only table. Lucius smiled as he took his seat across from her. “I arranged for us to have the space to ourselves. I wish for us to be able to talk freely without risk of being overheard.”
Hermione smiled softly, amazed with herself for being surprised by the deep pockets and indulgent habits of the wizard sitting across from her. He was Lucius Malfoy, after all.
Lucius ordered champagne and oysters for the table with the ease and grace of a man who was in his element. Catching her contemplative look, his left eyebrow peaked, and his eyes twinkled. “What is it, Miss Granger? The look on your face has me intrigued.”
When she didn’t immediately respond, he added with an encouraging smile. “This is our Sunday dinner, Hermione. You are not my submissive for this meal. Sunday dinners are when we are friends and step away from the constraints of our particular arrangement.”
Hermione smiled. “Sometimes I’m taken off guard by you…that’s all.”
“Well, now I’m really intrigued.” He leaned forward watching her intently.
Hermione was about to speak when the waiter reappeared with champagne and a huge chilled platter of oysters and fresh lemon wedges. When their flutes were full, Lucius lifted his to her and toasted with a smirk, “Here’s to being intrigued by beautiful witches.”
Hermione laughed and was quick to respond. “Here’s to men who catch you off guard.” Lucius chuckled.
“Do you like Oysters, Hermione?”
Hermione shrugged. “I had one in a shooter once. All I tasted was the alcohol surrounding it as it slid down my throat.”
“Well, watch and learn.” Lucius picked up a lemon wedge and squeezed juice onto an oyster before tipping the shell into his mouth and swallowing the oyster down. He smiled and whispered, “Delicious,” with a wink as he picked up his champagne glass.
Hermione cocked an eyebrow. “Well, here goes.”
Lucius watched her suck on her bottom lip as she squeezed lemon onto her oyster. He placed his hand loosely over his mouth to disguise his smile at the look of determination on her face. She looked as though she were adding an ingredient to a potion.
Hermione glanced up at him as she tipped the shell into her mouth and swallowed the oyster whole. Her gaze focused up at the sky as she contemplated the taste. “Hmm, tastes like lemon and salt.”
Lucius shrugged. “Well it’s an acquired taste. Draco hates them.” He swallowed another, watching her sip her champagne. “So, tell me what you meant when you said I take you off guard.”
Hermione swallowed another oyster and then leaned back in her chair. “I think I’m simply getting to know you, Lucius. You surprised me tonight. The bath. It was…unexpected and…I mean…is that something all Dominants do?”
Lucius contemplated his answer carefully. After a moment’s thought he leaned forward with darkening eyes and flirtatious smirk. “I can’t speak for other Dominants, but I am meticulous with my possessions. And you, my precious, are a prized possession that I fully intend to pamper, polish, pet, package, paw, penetrate, pound, plug, punish, and most importantly, please.” Each word was more pronounced than the prior and his gaze devoured her hungrily with each punctuated ‘p’.
Hermione felt warmth rush over her from head to toe and back up to her fluttering womb. She took a deep breath and without conscious thought reached up to caress her collar’s locket. “See? That’s what I mean. Sometimes the things you say and do surprise me…and I mean that in the best way, Lucius.” She sipped her champagne enjoying the caress of bubbles on her tongue. “And while I’ve always known you were a rich man, this world you live in – the world of mansions and house elves and the best of everything…” She trailed off and looked around the restaurant, gesturing to prove her point. “Well, it’s a bit…overwhelming. Tonight, I was taken off guard a touch.”
Lucius studied her, absorbing her words. “Does it bother you? My lifestyle? Does my money make you uncomfortable?”
Hermione smiled warmly. “No, Lucius. It suits you. It’s not my world, but it’s yours and it’s delicious to briefly step into it…for so many reasons. I feel very lucky to have you as my friend and my Dominant.”
Lucius swallowed heavily and sipped his drink. He suddenly felt warm, and a tremendous amount of affection for the witch flooded him. He spoke in a low, almost hesitant voice. “Your honesty and kindness catch me off guard sometimes. It’s refreshing and…quenching.”
Hermione didn’t know why, but Lucius’ words touched her, and she had a profound desire to stand up and rush around the table into his arms. She was about to reach her hand out to take his when the waiter reappeared.
“Monsieur, Mademoiselle the specials du jour…”
Hermione barely heard the waiter speak as she continued to watch Lucius flawlessly engage with him as he ordered their entrees in perfect French with ease.
After the waiter stepped away, Lucius caught Hermione staring. “What?” He asked with a curious grin.
“You speak French fluently. Do you speak any other languages?”
“Only Italian and German,” he answered dismissively and then continued, “Abraxas, my father, was very disappointed I only learned three other languages. He spoke five and my mother spoke four.”
“Why the need to speak so many languages?”
Lucius shrugged. “Communication is key to understanding and you need to understand others in order to manipulate them to your will.” Noticing Hermione’s shocked expression, he added, “My father’s words, not mine.”
Hermione cocked a brow as she sipped her freshly filled champagne flute. “Yet it seems to be a lesson you learned. You are quite talented at bending others to your will.” The innuendo was unintentional, yet Hermione blushed after the words left her mouth.
Lucius chuckled as he rubbed his bottom lip with his index finger. Hermione found her eyes drawn to the motion and, in turn, his mouth. His words jolted her attention back to his eyes. With a teasing grin, he quipped, “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
When her questioning eyes didn’t falter, Lucius continued, “The job of a Malfoy is to further the interests and deepen the pockets of his family. Malfoy Enterprises was founded by my great-grandfather. It is my job now – as it was my father’s before me and his father’s before him – to expand the business and therefore increase the profits. Language is a tool that broadens that ability and scope.”
Hermione let out a short laugh. “Well, it seems you’ve done well and surely your father would be proud of you, despite your language deficiency.” Hermione said the last bit with a teasing smile.
Lucius looked down as he readjusted his napkin. “Well, my father would never admit he was proud of anyone. No matter what, one can always do better.”
Hermione paused, surprised by the insecurity he was displaying as he dropped eye contact with her and fidgeted. The champagne was making her bold, so she couldn’t help what spewed out of her mouth next. “And what about Draco? Is he multi-lingual? Do you place the same pressures on him as your father did on you?”
Lucius sipped his champagne before reengaging her gaze. “I was very much like my father for a long time. Draco felt the pressures of being a Malfoy as much as anyone, I regret to admit.”
She didn’t say anything, hoping Lucius would continue.
He sighed heavily and blew out a long breath. “The war, it…changed my perspective on many things, Hermione.” His stare intensified knowingly. “I no longer place the pressures on Draco that were placed on me. He needs to choose his own path and figure out his own way. I will not force him into a marriage that doesn’t please him or a profession he loathes.”
This time Hermione didn’t wait; she reached forward and took his hand. “You’re a good man and a good father, Lucius. It’s obvious you and Draco are close and that he loves you very much.”
Hermione noticed a slight brightness and wetness to Lucius’ eyes and decided the conversation was too heavy. She squeezed his hand tightly for a moment with a toothy grin. “So, where did you learn these languages? They weren’t taught at Hogwarts…at least not when I was there.”
Lucius shrugged. “My summers were spent abroad with family friends and business acquaintances. Languages are picked up rather quickly when you are immersed in them.”
Hermione smiled as she pulled her hand away. “Yes, I imagine they would be.” She smirked conspiratorially. “So, Draco…tell me some wonderfully embarrassing tales about him that I can mercilessly torment him with.”
The change of topic was a good move. Within a few minutes, Lucius was laughing heartily as he recounted stories of Draco’s childhood. Hermione was moved by the love Lucius clearly felt for his son and found Lucius to be a wonderful story teller. He shook his head in bewilderment as he told a story about Draco’s obsession with fashion when he was younger. “He used to go shopping with his mother to all the French and Italian boutiques. He would actually advise Narcissa on what looked good on her.” Lucius looked out over the river. “I was sure he was a homosexual and of course, that terrified me. I pushed him into masculine endeavors.”
Hermione failed to keep a straight face as she replied. “Many straight men are into fashion, Lucius.” Lucius cocked a doubting brow at her with an equally skeptical smirk. She giggled. “Well, based on my experiences with him, you worried needlessly.”
“Yes, he did not disappoint.” After a brief pause, he added. “I’ve changed in that regard as well, though. I just want my son to find happiness, no matter who with. If there is one good thing that resulted from the war, it was me snapping out of the brainwashing of my ancestors.”
Hermione didn’t doubt his sincerity, but she couldn’t resist asking, “What if he doesn’t have an heir?”
Lucius looked her in the eye and responded, “Who’s to say I won’t remarry and have more children?”
Just then, the waiter reappeared with their entrees. Hermione was grateful for the distraction from the uneasy pang in her gut his words had caused. She sipped her champagne, shaking off the flutter of unrest as the plates were placed in front of them. Lucius is your friend, Hermione. His happiness should bring you happiness, not unrest. He can’t be your Dominant forever and his life will move on, just as yours will.
“Everything ok?”
Hermione’s eyes shot up as she was pulled from her train of thought. “Oh, yes. Just admiring the meal. It looks almost too good to eat!” She hoped her words sounded more convincing than they felt.
Lucius smiled. “Well, I assure you it tastes even better than it looks.” As Lucius said the words his hungry eyes stroked down her decollate to her breasts and back up to her lips and then eyes. His implication was not lost on her and she suddenly had a desire to skip dinner altogether. She smiled demurely, feeling herself at a rare loss for words.
Lucius’ eyes narrowed slightly. “Pet, what is it? You look flushed.”
She picked up her fork. Get it together, Hermione. “I’m fine. I think the champagne is going to my head.” Yes, that’s all it is! The champagne. “I’m sure this delicious meal will put me to rights.”
Lucius smiled warmly. “Well, then…bon appétit.”
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Book One - Master Mine: A Lesson in Submission