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Better	By : starstruck86 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Lucius/Narcissa Views: 5278 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor do I make any money from these writings.

Chapter List
- 1-Better
- 1
Title: Better
Pairing:
Lucius/Narcissa
Rating: NC-17

Word Count:
1,046
Warnings:
Rough sex, domination.
Summary: Lucius just needs a
distraction, that's all...

“It's nasty out
there...”

Her husband's murmur pulled Narcissa back from
the brink of sleep. She heard the tension in his voice and forced
herself back to clarity.

“Mmm,” she mumbled,
turning onto her side, an easy transition aided by the silk negligee
Lucius liked her to wear to bed.

She crept one arm over his
flat stomach and curled her fingers under his back. Her leg crept
over his own and held him in place. Narcissa had never worked out why
her husband disliked thunderstorms so much, but throughout their
marriage his tension on stormy nights had become commonplace. He laid
awake every such night, fiddling with the duvet and sighing into the
darkness.

“What's on your mind?” she tried,
forcing herself to sound awake.
“The storm is simply a
mirror of what it's like inside the building, don't you
think?”

Lucius was referring to the fact that the Dark
Lord had taken over their manor as his headquarters, and that it no
longer felt like their home at all. Every morning Narcissa belted
herself inside her robes, whereas before she would happily have
drifted along the plushly carpeted landings in her nightdress, and
eaten breakfast in it too. When Draco was home from Hogwarts she put
a silk robe on, but when it was just her husband and herself,
Narcissa liked her freedom to wander.

That freedom had been
brutally snatched away from them, though she did not miss it as much
as her husband missed it. Lucius had never been one for naked
wanderings, but it was obvious that the Dark Lord's presence in their
home made him a caged bird, unable to fly and move as he
wished.

Narcissa pressed a silent kiss to her husband's
shoulder in support.

“Worried about the peacocks,”
he muttered sullenly. “You know how storms affect
them.”

Narcissa said nothing; she knew that should they
displease the Dark Lord any further their precious, beautiful
ornamental garden birds would be the first things to suffer. They
would die for his anger. She had long since detached herself from
their fate.

“And the dogs are restless...”

Narcissa
had to hold back her laugh at that statement, seeing as their main
hound was sound asleep by the side of their bed without a care in the
world.

“Lucius, stop fretting,” she whispered,
bringing her hand back to smooth over his chest. She allowed her
fingers to dabble in the pale blond hair between his nipples. “The
dogs are fine. The peacocks will be huddled up somewhere ignoring the
storm. Go to sleep.”
“I can't,” he replied
dejectedly. “My mind won't empty.”
“Would you
like to talk about it?” she offered.

As usual, there was
no answer. As much as she liked the elegance and wealth of her
lifestyle, it was the silence that Narcissa loathed the most. Her
husband rarely talked about his feelings, and anger was seemingly the
only emotion he would ever express in front of others. His passion
had dwindled in the Dark Lord's occupation; she found herself
struggling to remember the last time they had had sex.

Testing
the situation. Narcissa slid her hand south and dug beneath the silk
pyjama bottoms her husband wore. She quickly razed her nails through
his pubic hair and settled her palm over his cock, which lay dormant
and warm atop his sac. She began to rub it, hoping to tempt it into
life, and her husband back into warmth.

“I'm not in the
mood.” The mutter was bitter and absolute. “Stop
it.”
“Lucius...” she sighed, not removing her
hand. “You need a distraction. You need to let this all out in
some way. Maybe this is it?”
“I will hurt you,”
he ground out through gritted teeth.
“You never have
before...”

There was a low growl and her wrist was
clasped in a painful grip. Lucius threw it away, but as quickly as it
landed, her waist was grabbed. The negligee rode up over her
buttocks, which received a harsh pinch, and then her world tilted as
her husband flipped her onto her hands and knees.

“Don't
move,” he whispered, pushing the nightie up onto her spine,
exposing her. He nudged her legs apart and cool air swept along the
length of her crease, making her shiver.

Firm hands glided up
the back of her thighs, thumbs digging in and pulling her apart when
they reached their goal. Lucius did nothing but hold her completely
open and tension began to pound in her mind. He left her hanging for
what felt like minutes, the only sound in the room their
breathing.

Finally, she felt him nudging against her, thick
and hard, and when he thrust inward, she moaned, allowing him to hold
her in place and take her as he wanted. As he slid to fully sheathed,
she bit into her lip, waiting for his next move. His balls nudged
against her, hairy and tight, and her toes curled. The domination
didn't bother her. She knew that Lucius felt emasculated and lost,
and whilst giving up control might have angered other women, Narcissa
had always enjoyed it. She remained deadly still, waiting for him to
make the first move, to start pounding in and out of her.

She
was surprised, therefore, when a fingers crept over her hip and began
to caress her belly before sliding down to seek out her clitoris. A
rogue gasp escaped her lips as Lucius began to circle with his
forefinger, slowly at first and speeding up to slow maddeningly down
again, keeping her in suspense.

It was only after three
repetitions of this that he he began to move, his strong hips and
thighs pushing in and out of her, carrying his cock deep into her
body and causing her muscles to clench around him.

“Lucius....”
her word was a hiss as his other free hand captured a nipple in
between its fingers. It was rolled and pinched, painfully tweaking
the sensitive nub until it throbbed.

“Better?” she
whispered over her shoulder.

A low groan was her only answer,
followed by the instant damp hotness of her husband spilling within
her body.
- 1
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