Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

The Wedding - COMPLETE	By : LaBibliographe Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Lucius/Hermione Views: 111838 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Updated 1-14-07

I appreciate all your reviews. They always make my day. Skye - the P.B.U.N.S. did the trick. And Bella - I'm so sorry for the shock. I hope the story makes up for your initial disappointment. Severus and Ginny might grow on you. I do hope this chapter entertains. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter Two

The Agreement

Lucius got to keep his public persona as a multimillionaire and most days he was kept busy in the financial world he knew best. He tried not to feel too miserable for the mess his life was in, but occasionally it got him down. Especially when he saw his wife. Lucius had always had the adulation of the female population, but he knew Hermione viewed him as no more than dirt beneath her dainty feet. Seeing her around the ancestral pile and not being able to touch his lovely, young spouse was taking its toll, especially as there were no alternatives for him on the estate. Lucius was first and foremost a hedonist; it had been bred in him from infancy, along with his family’s doctrine of superiority. His sexual appetite was tremendous and stifling it was making him slowly build to an explosion.

One bright, sunny morning he had finally had enough. Hermione had been gardening and she came into the house in a little sundress, gently perspiring from her exertions as she happened to pass Lucius in the hall, Crookshanks padding beside her. The dark wizard inhaled her feminine fragrance as she went by, ignoring him as usual, and suddenly he had the worst hard-on he could remember in recent years. That was the last straw. He reached out and took hold of her arm and Apparated them into his study, leaving Crookshanks hissing in the hall.

Hermione first let out a startled squeal, recovering immediately with a ringing slap to Lucius’ hand on her arm. “Let go of me! What are you doing? Let go!” She pulled her arm away from his grasp and stood with her hands on her trim little hips glaring at the former Death Eater who stood over a head taller than she.

Lucius glared right back, noting in resentment that she didn’t appear to have the least fear of his strong-arm tactics but he flicked his wrist anyway, and the door to the study slammed shut. “I want to talk to you and you always manage to play least in sight around me.” He flicked his wrist again and made sure she couldn’t apparate away from the room. Hermione saw the faint tendrils of the spell in the air and knew she was bound into the room until he gave her leave to go.

Hermione gave her irate husband a look heavily laced with disdain and turned away from him, crossing her arms, “Hasn’t it crossed your mind that I don’t wantto be around you?” She shivered at being in such close quarters with a man whose pheromones could wreak havoc in a graveyard.

Lucius pulled Hermione back around to glare at her, “Please do me the courtesy of looking at me when I’m talking to you. Perhaps it hasn’t occurred to youthat you are truly my wife? I know for a fact you are doing an excellent job of being my jailer. I’ve been immured on this estate for a solid three months since our marriage. You, on the other hand have left it many times. I know I’m allowed to leave if I accompany you, but you have never once offered to take me anywhere. Did you think I was happy being bored to flinders in this mansion?” Lucius waved his hand about, drawing Hermione’s attention to his study, where she saw several Persian rugs on the floor, an extremely comfortable setting of sofa and easy chairs by a carved stone fireplace at one end of the room, and his large oak desk flanked by innumerable cubbyholes for his parchments at the other. She felt no pity for him whatsoever.

“Frankly I thought you’d be happy being anywhere except Azkaban, which I could still arrange for you.” Hermione shakily held her ground when all she wanted to do was either flee or run her hands up his chest. She did neither, but she did try to hold her breath. My Gods, he smelled good.

“Ah, so my marriage is meant only to be a choice of penal servitude in Azkaban or here. Somehow I missed that paragraph in the marriage contract.” Lucius stared down at his wife, daring her to deny him his rights and nearly dizzy with wanting to map the deliciously scented territory under her dress. “Are you going to hold the threat of Azkaban over my head for the entire year I’m chaperoned?”

Hermione knew she had gone too far when she had threatened Lucius with the prison. His sentence had been officially commuted to marriage with her and she knew he was in no danger of being sent to Azkaban. His arrogance just rubbed her the wrong way sometimes. Unfortunately his male essence was rubbing her just the right way. She needed to be away from him. That scent was making her crazy - for an evil Death Eater. Maybe she wascrazy.

Years ago, when Hermione had first met Lucius in Flourish and Blotts, she had felt an instant antagonism which had only grown over time. The few instances where they had come face to face, she’d wanted nothing more than to hiss and spit like a cat. It had taken several more years and some maturity to understand that very far from hating and despising him, what she was feeling was intense attraction. The realization that she had any kind of physical feeling for the notorious dark wizard made her leery of being anywhere near him.

For Lucius’ part, all he’d seen in Flourish and Blotts was a pretty little girl who frowned fiercely at him and was disrespectful. He knew who she was from Draco; she had been giving his son fits at school, scoring higher in most classes. Lucius had casually written her off as a worthless Mudblood. But as the years had progressed and Draco brought home various stories of personality clashes with the Mudblood witch, unintentionally pointing out Hermione’s formidable intelligence, Lucius’ quick mind had been intrigued and he had marked her for a possible future liaison. Now, through a completely unforeseen toss of life’s mystical bat bones, he found it grotesquely ironic that hewas the one now pleading with her for sex.

“It’s been three months of avoidance on your part. I’ve been waiting for some sign from you that I’m welcome in your bed as your husband, but aside from our stilted dinners and occasional breakfasts, you’ve done nothing but make me feel like I’m a leper in bondage to you.” Lucius drew a shallow breath, trying not to visibly shake from inhaling his wife’s unique fragrance, “I’m more than that. I’m a man, I’m your husband and now I need to be your lover. And I am NOT using that word lightly – I needto be your lover.”

“Pardon me, but didn’t you and your Death Eaters label me and my kind an abomination to be eradicated by any means necessary for the good of the magic world? You and I are only married today because your fearless leader imploded, leaving you as the sole living Death Eater by a freak accident of fate.” Hermione lanced him with her scorn, upset at having to face up to the physical part of marriage with a man who hated her and who attracted her unbearably. “Now I am suddenly desirable as a lover because I’m the only female available to you?”

“That about sums it up, yes.” Lucius ignored Hermione’s outraged squawk. “I don’t know what you’ve been doing when you leave the estate. Perhaps you have a lover on the side and you’re getting your satisfaction with him. All I know is, I have nobody and that has to change.”

Hermione scoffed at the blond wizard, “I’m not having sex on the side. How ridiculous.”

“If the tables were turned, would you suspect Iwas having sex elsewhere?”

Hermione saw his point, dammit. Of courseshe would think he was tomcatting off the estate. She looked indecisive and Lucius rammed his point home.

“Please understand. You don’t have to be my best buddy, you don’t even have to be nice to me, but I think you can’t know – you’re basically torturing me by denying me sex.”

“Torturing you? By keeping you from having sex? You’re not going to die from a lack of female ‘companionship’. What’s wrong with your hand?” Omigods, did I just say that?Hermione tried not to cringe at her embarrassing question.

“Is that what you’ve been using?” Lucius inquired, cutting to the heart of Hermione’s unintentionally revealing query, “If you’re not having outside sex, you must know a hand job not enough, and it’s not nearly enough for me. I may not die, but you might.” When Hermione started to angrily interrupt he held up his hand. “Let me finish. I’m not trying to threaten you. I’m just trying to explain. You’ve caged me. I’m willing to work for you and the Ministry; I’ve said I would and I have. I don’t think Arthur will have any complaints about the money I’ve made his government.” A chill blew across Lucius’ mind as he worried what would happen if Arthur wasn’tpleased at the amount he’d made. He shook the demoralizing thought away, focusing back on his more pressing dilemma. “You must understand that I need this one thing in return. I needthe sex. I can’t make it any clearer than that. If I don’t get it, my temper will get shorter and shorter until I snap. It may prove a danger to you. Had I been sent to Azkaban, I’d almost certainly be dead within a year, probably by my own hand - no pun intended,” he quickly added when he saw Hermione’s small smile. “It almost happened before. A sexual addiction or a compulsion, call it what you will, but I’m nearing the end of my rope and I’m warning you as your prisoner, you need to help me.”

Hermione froze at the knowledge that Lucius had come close to killing himself in Azkaban. She realized that Lucius was serious. She hadn’t taken his needs into account at all beyond feeding, clothing, and sheltering him so he could work for the Ministry. His life on the estate was comfortable so she hadn’t looked any farther. Reluctantly she acknowledged that she deserved to be chastised for her lack of interest in his emotional welfare while keeping herself safely away from him.

How many times had she heard of his proclivities while she was at Hogwarts? Dozens? Hundreds? A few of the girls had older sisters who had whispered of personal experiences with him. Everyone knew he strayed outside his marriage on a regular basis. Apparently Narcissa had welcomed his absence from her bed, instead seeking her own pleasures with other men. No one knew why. Most of the women just thought Lucius’ wife was crazy and pitied her for not being able to keep him at home. Now it was Hermione’s turn to keep him out of her bed. She felt a little guilty for treating him to a hardship she had no right to impose.

“Whatever you decide to do, Hermione, I will tell you ahead of time, sex with me isn’t only about the missionary position. So - either take me to a brothel, bring a whore here, or take me into your bed. If you decide to bring me a whore, please make her a Halfblood or Muggleborn. Arthur has made it excruciatingly clear that if I so much as look at a Pureblood female I’ll be able to apply for a job with the Vienna Boy’s Choir – as a soprano.” Lucius crossed his arms and stood there unintentionally bedazzling her with his beautiful arctic gray eyes.

Hermione had been suffering too. She had told the truth about not seeking outside pleasures with anyone else. She had been given a few opportunities even after her marriage, being somewhat famous and now rich, but she hadn’t done anything about it. Why she should want to honor her marriage vows to a notorious Death Eater done for purely political purposes escaped her, but she knew it would just feel wrong to cheat on him. Holding them both up to public ridicule if she were caught in someone else’s bed didn’t sit well with her, either. She’d had a modest sex life before the cataclysm that was Voldemort’s purge of the Death Eaters. She really hated to admit it to herself, but being around such an utterly virile and sexually magnetic man for three months of no sex had been slow torture for her too, not to mention her fear that her husband might do something more vicious to her than merely co-exist. She pretty much assumed she wasn’t on his Christmas card list. It was largely why she’d played least in sight. She didn’t like his arrogance, she hated his politics, but her hand was beginning to pall as an outlet, just as Lucius had said. She’d gotten herself a nifty Muggle vibrator just yesterday morning.

Reacting to his vulgar suggestions, she shook off her trance and glared at Lucius saying, “I’m certainly not letting a prostitute onto the property to service my husband and then tell the magic world what she did. And having to accompanyyou to a brothel is completely out of the question.”

“Well, if you let me come to you we don’t have to be anything to each other but sex partners. But I am warning you I like sex and lots of it in lots of ways. Open the door to me and you’ll have to cultivate a great deal of permissiveness for my versions of bed sport.” Lucius waited patiently for Hermione to come to the conclusion he’d arrived at minutes before. There was really no other choice. He stood beside her, indulging his senses in her mouth-watering combination of outdoors, perfume and woman while he waited. He idly wondered what kind of knickers she wore. Maybe satin. He hoped he was going to find out. Soon.

Hermione was arriving at the foregone conclusion reluctantly. She looked at Lucius seeing he was already cataloging her assets, and she really hated herself for wanting him to. I guess I’m not better than any of the girls I felt so superior to at Hogwarts. The only difference is I’ll actually get to see what all the talk is about. She sniggered inwardly, That might be worth it all by itself. Hermione stood up straight and delivered herself to her husband. “All right. I see your point. So we have to be just a little more married than we have been so far, I guess. If you are truly that desperate, we’ll need to make this a real marriage, in bed at least.” Oh, Hermione, we aresuch a martyr!

Lucius thought, In bed and in the garden, and on the dining room table, and in the shower, and…

“Lucius, are you even listening to me? I thought you were practically rabid from a lack of sexual relations.”

“I am. I’m already thinking of all the ways I want to have you. When can we start? Now?” Lucius was euphoric at his success. He was ready to strip that little sundress off his wife at her command.

“What? Now? Right here? Lucius, I’ve agreed to have sex with you but I don’t want to be thrown against the wall and used like a knothole in a tree. Let’s have dinner and then we can go to your bedroom for our time together.” Hermione knew she was going to have to make an effort to let go of her animosity toward his vicious past and even more her primal feminine fear of his overwhelming sexuality. She sighed and asked, “What should I wear?” Hermione was thinking of a daring black peignoir set she’d been given for her marriage by one of her more optimistic friends.

“Let’s see. Hmmm,” Lucius stroked his chin with extreme gravity as he looked down at his petite wife, “do you have a nurse’s uniform? With sequins?” Lucius’ gray eyes lit up at the comical look of dismay on his wife’s face. “I’m sorry,” he grinned, “I’m just teasing you. The less clothing the better as far as I’m concerned, but wear whatever makes you comfortable.” They both knew the rest of his sentence was, ‘you won’t be wearing it long.’

Hermione just nodded grumpily and pointed to his door. Lucius flicked his wrist twice; the binding spell lifted and the door opened. Hermione stalked out. An angry Crookshanks was waiting for her outside.

Lucius could hear the cat scolding and Hermione placating, as their voices faded down the hall.

The instant Hermione got to her own sunlit bedroom, she got cold feet. Not from the idea of sex, but from her fear she wouldn’t be enough woman for him. He’d probably had hundreds of women, and, of course, the best in the business if that comment on using a brothel was his experience talking. What could she offer him that hundreds of other women hadn’t? Nothing, that’s what. Her ‘knothole’ wasn’t anything special. Oh, but she’d heard hisequipment was spectacular. She absently petted her familiar, soothing him into a catnap on her bed, while she continued to wrestle with her plight; for once even the soothing rose and mint satin décor and delicate white and gilt furniture of her private space couldn’t cheer her up.

Yet another thought further depressed her as she picked absently at the lace on her bedspread. Once Lucius was freed from his year of being monitored by her, he could go anywhere, and do anything. He had probably slept with half the female population of the magic world. He still had the other half to get through. Narcissa had been a drop-dead gorgeous female and she hadn’t been able to hold him. Hermione figured she wouldn’t be able to keep him interested in her paltry charms. Did she even want to? Lucius was a stunning man to look at, with his hypnotic eyes, his long, sexy blonde hair and his tall, beautiful body. But he came with a great deal of baggage, and it wasn’t Louis Vuitton. Well, all she could do at this point was deal with each day as it came. She began to smile. Well, at least shewas going to ‘come’, and it wasn’t going to be self-induced. Hermione got busy and took stock of all her lotions and nail polishes. She was going to soak in her tub and paint her finger- and toenails Scarlet Temptress Red. At least for now, she could put her new vibrator in a drawer.

Lucius was pacing a flattened path through the gray plush carpeting in his luxurious master bedroom. He was so worked up at the idea of having sex soon that he was nearly delirious with want. It had been way too long for him and he wasn’t sure he could hold onto his stamina long enough to satisfy Hermione. He felt sure she wasn’t a virgin since she didn’t seem to have worried about anything other than appearances if he screwed someone else. No girlish fluttering. No intolerant primness at the words ‘whore’ or brothel’. Moreover, she knew exactly what they were. That was a relief anyway, although having to actually ask her for the sex had been dispiriting.

Lucius wasn’t enamored of virgins and he had mostly steered clear of them. They were always more trouble than they were worth in bed, being novices and definitely not up to his level when it came to the types of pleasures he enjoyed. He hoped Hermione was more open-minded. He hadwarned her. He spent the balance of the day alternately working on finances and bullying the elves into making his bedroom sparkle.

_______________________________________

I would love to hear from you - please give me your feedback. If you haven't ever clicked on the review link before and wouldn't know what to say, try it anyway. The best part of writing the stories is hearing from a reader when we've posted a new chapter. You can just pick one thing that struck you and mention that - it's simple! The review link is just below. Please?
- 1
- 2
- 3
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

The Wedding - COMPLETE

Chapter Two

The Agreement