A/N: I feel the need to warn you that there is M rated material in this chapter. But if you can handle that, then please do enjoy ;D

::-::-:: Chapter 9 ::-::-::

Hermione, like always, was the first to wake. She tiptoed into the kitchen, put the kettle on with a lazy flourish of her wand and sat on an unyielding wooden stool, waiting.

Waiting for what, however, she didn't know.

Lucius? A repeat of the previous night? A replay of her dreams, depicting her idea of what could have been, had Lucius not broken the kiss?

A tingling jolt spread throughout her body, accumulating in her stomach and flowing in a lustrous wave that extended to the very tips of her fingers and toes. She felt her cheeks turning hotter and, no doubt, brighter in colour as she recognised the same feeling from their first encounter in the kitchen and the kiss they'd shared the night before.

It felt as alien to Hermione as their little… arrangement, but she didn't pretend to not know what the feeling was… She knew all too well, even if she had experienced it just two limited was the butterflies of lust inside her.

She had felt it last night, during and after their kiss, but she'd been unable to relieve herself of the almost agonising sensation. All they'd shared was a kiss; his lips on hers, nothing more, nothing less. But lust had made itself present and had left her body with a torturous need for more. Much more.

Was it a lie to say that it had been… perfect?

It sounded like one, and it also sounded like a cliché. A silly, irritating, pathetic cliché, rather like the ones she was used to hearing in her Hogwarts dormitory. She had grown up listening to the likes of Lavender Brown boasting of her perfect kisses with Seamus Finnigan or whoever was daft enough to be swept into a sloppy snog with her. Thankfully, Hermione had never heard the misfortune of Miss Brown expressing her love of kissing Ron Weasely.

And that was another thing. Ron seemed to have morphed into a man twenty years his age, with haunting grey eyes and an obscene amount of silky blond locks. Lucius Malfoy was the one she'd kissed, not Ronald Weasley. Not her freckly, red-headed best friend; the person she thought she had loved for what seemed like eons and who she had once believed would be the father of her children. Oh no. She had kissed a man known to the world for his hatred of Mudbloods, Muggles and anything he deemed lesser than himself, a man who was almost twice her age and whom she had once hated.

A man she found herself liking more and more…

But, casting the imperfections to one side, everything about that moment had been perfect and Hermione was not in the mood for her mind to be telling her any different.

The niggling voices never ceased their chances of bringing her back to sensibility. They made themselves noticed at ungodly times at night, coaxing her from a much needed sleep and whispering things with the sole intention of stopping all contact with Lucius Malfoy. What would Harry and Ron think of this? Or your parents? The man hates you! He does not want you for anything other than a warm body to shag!

It was always the same ideas and before she could even think of following the truth in some of them, the lust had driven all logical thoughts away.

Of course, there was a small flutter of nervousness in her stomach, churning her insides to a buttery mush as her cheeks become flushed a healthy pink. But nervousness was all there was. No matter how hard she tried, Hermione could not bring herself to feel an ounce of shame.

And she didn't even care.

Besides, where was the logic and sensible happenings in the world? If the world outside was unpredictable and unlikely, then why couldn't her time with Lucius Malfoy be the same?

She smiled to herself, switching off the gas when a screaming sort of whistle sounded through the little cottage, signalling that the kettle had reached an abrupt boil.

The room grew hotter, Hermione noticed, but it wasn't the boiling steam from the kettle.

Lucius strode into the kitchen, eyes roaming over the three quarters of creamy pale flesh that her nightgown didn't hide.

Hermione could feel her eyes upon him, but decided that she wasn't going to let it get to her.

What good would that do, after all?

But all sense of calmness, however, quickly diminished the moment she looked into those eyes and flashes of looking into them the previous night came back to her.

Sweet Merlin's balls, we kissed! I kissed Lucius Malfoy! Lucius Malfoy! Circe, help me!

She panicked and spun around in a flash of curls, her face growing several shades redder and threatening to ruin everything.

What was she thinking, not being nervous? She was terrified of the prospect of… well, everything! Why had she agreed to do it? And to think that they had kissed last night!

For goodness sake! I need to calm down. It was a kiss, it's not like we had sex… yet.

She took a long sip of her coffee, hoping it would wash away the sudden panic that was rioting in her mind. Her chocolate brown orbs concentrated on the sway of the trees and the passing clouds; anything to distract her from the man behind her.

Lucius could see the effort it took her not to abandon him in the kitchen and dear Merlin did he desperately not want that to happen. She'd already run away from him once and he was not willing to let it happen again.

He took a step towards her, carefully placing a hand next to hers, but not touching, on the cold kitchen counter.

He could sense the blush he knew she would be wearing. "What are you scared of, Miss Granger?" he asked, breathing in her scent.

Hermione shook her head, staring blankly at the wall behind Lucius. "I don't know. I guess it's more of the unknown. I-I'm worried that I won't be able to… you know…"

Lucius chuckled softly. "I very much doubt that."

She turned around slowly and looked into his grey eyes, seeing how they glistened in the morning sunlight. "Really?"

He almost snorted. For goodness sake girl, you're going to be having sex with Lucius Malfoy, you'll learn very quickly. It was probably for the best that he answered with a simple, "Yes."

He pictured a sudden image; Miss Granger's ruffled nightgown pulled up to her waist, her eyes dark and wide as he spread those supple thighs and braced her against the worktop, and pounded into her over and over… and those beautiful little gasps she'd made when he'd touched her before would be all that fell from those lips…

The lips that were currently parted in thought, her rose bud tongue swiping across the lower petal, wetting it oh so temptingly.

He almost groaned, blissfully aware of the hardness that had long since expanded in the confines of his trousers.

He wondered what her hand would feel like wrapped around his cock, or those wet, hot lips-

What are you seventeen again? Get a grip, old boy!

Lucius thought that he was going to shrivel up and die in the heat of his need, but as Hermione brushed passed him, announcing that she was going to check on the charms, he was certain that he would explode if he didn't have her soon.

But it would seem that he would have to wait. And for now, he was going for a long, hot shower.

"Protego Totalum... Repello Muggletum..." Hermione whispered the final incantations as the magic welded into an invisible bubble surrounding the little cottage from the terror that lurked beyond.

She was pleasantly surprised that that her charms had, so far, succeeded in keeping out any intruders. For such a Dark Curse, one would assume that those creatures would be able to penetrate even the simplest of charms, but all they really seemed to be interested in was ripping their victims alive.

They were rather unintelligent and how the Death Eaters were supposed to control such a world was beyond her.

Not that she really cared about such a thing. She'd had enough of Voldemort and Death Eaters to last her a life time.

So why are you with one then? A little voice chirped in her head.

She frowned; just how many times did she have to answer such questions? Lucius was no longer a Death Eater. Wasn't that obvious enough? He had the power to kill her for what she was, with or without magic, but was she dead yet? No. Could she have hoped for the same treatment during the war or from any other Death Eater? Most definitely not. He would have most likely done anything to her for the sole intent of getting back into Voldemort's good books and even so that would have been for his family, to ensure their survival.

And you'd kill for your family, would you?

Arghh! Would the battle with her mind ever come to an end?

With a huffed sigh, Hermione stormed back into the house, intending to take a nice, warm bath and calm her mind.

She slammed her wand down on the table and proceeded to pull off the heavy winter coat she had, in every practical sense, 'borrowed' from whoever it belonged to before.

Hermione walked in a humble silence to the bathroom, past the rooms she had mentally declared as her next cleaning targets, before finally standing face to face with the slightly faded bathroom door.

A long groan stopped Hermione from pulling the handle downwards, instead her hand gripped at the door handle as if it were frozen to the metal.

Oh God! What if there's one of those creatures in there?

But that seemed like a rather stupid question to ask seeing how, moments before, she had re-cast the spells around the house and there was little to no chance of anything setting foot within.

And there it was again. Another moan; this time louder, more drawn out. Not at all sounding like some fleshing eating zombie.

So what is happening in there?

Of course, Hermione was completely unaware that her blond male cohort was the cause of the strange sounds, and that she would be invading his privacy by storming in to check he wasn't being gnawed to death by one of them.

She threw the door open and gasped, dropping her mouth in utter shock as Lucius Malfoy stood gloriously naked beneath a stream of steaming hot water, hand fisting his very aroused member.

Sweet Merlin! He's… he's…

It was now very obvious what had been happening behind the bathroom door and Hermione was nothing short of being embarrassed and rather humiliated. She hated the heat that was pouring into her cheeks and was certain that, given the right amount of time and practice, she would get her obnoxious blushing habit under control.

Hermione took everything in from top to bottom; starting with the soaked blond locks that were slicked back and plastered down his back, a back which was, by no means, lacking in splendour; on the opposite side a pale chest that was defined by the contours of his muscles. And below his God-like upper body was his equally as God-like lower body. The globes of his arse were round and taut; and his legs were shaped with a thick layer of hard muscle. It would seem that Lucius Malfoy's age certainly hadn't taken its toll on his appearance.

And – she suddenly felt weak at the knees – his erection, large and pronounced, even when tightly encased in his fist.

It was when Lucius felt a cool blast of air scrape across his naked flesh that he turned around, only to find a crimson faced Miss Granger staring at his most private parts.

It would seem that the bookworm of Hogwarts wasn't such a prude after all…

He felt a strong sense of masculine pride deep within his bones knowing that just a glimpse of himself would have her drooling. Or at least he hoped she was…

And she was blushing. A blind person could see that.

Lucius could not stop the smirk that morphed onto his face, but then again, when could he ever? "Enjoying the view?" he asked, teasingly, knowing the girl had not even been aware that he'd noticed she was watching him. For almost… one minute now, it would seem.

Whatever kind of trance Hermione had been in, she was pulled out of it with a lurch of her stomach when she heard that deep rumble of a voice.

Oh Merlin, no…

"I-I…" Her mind was scattered. How was she ever going to look at him the same way again? She was certain that he could be wearing the heaviest and darkest of clothes and she would still be able to envision him in his birthday suit and map out every contour of muscle, milky scar and patches of hair– God, just how long had she been staring at him?

She hoped that the world would just upon up and swallow her, anything but have to deal with the humiliating consequences her eyes had caused for her.

She turned to walk out and leave Lucius to his… shower, not to mention drowning herself in a bowl of water.

"Don't leave," he said sternly, but in a voice that made Hermione feel as though she were being spoon fed treacle. "Stay."

And somehow she didn't need telling twice. The door closed behind her with a loud bang, and it was then that she realised she was still in the bathroom with her heart pounding in sound to the footsteps she took forward.

What are you doing?

What are you doing?

What are you doing?

The words ran through her mind on repeat, asking over and over like some form of jammed record player; a mantra of a question she had no intention of answering.

And she didn't.

Hermione was partial to resume her staring at his body, she figured all was lost now anyway, and if she had chosen to be in the same room as him, she may as well look at him. And the sublime looking cock that so obviously stood to attention. She admired the little hair that could be found there, a shade darker than that on his head and the numerous veiny ridges and contours. His endowment was lengthy and thick, head flushed a healthy pink with blood and dripping wet from the shower.

She didn't have to be a nymphomaniac to know what Lucius Malfoy had been accomplishing while she had been outside.

That would explain the low moans and grunts, after all.

Even if he wasn't quite finished yet…

She swallowed tightly as Lucius stepped out of the shower, his cock bobbing as he came towards her, a trail of warm water dripping languidly onto the floorboards.

"You're not going to run away this time, are you, Miss Granger?" he asked, voice dripping in arousal and was that seduction?

Hermione licked her lip deftly and looked into the man's eyes; heavy lidded, dark and moist.

She shook her head and let out a very quiet, "No."

His arousal before was pathetic to what he was feeling now.

He slipped a hand behind her curls and onto the nape of her neck and held her still for his lips to descend upon hers. Lucius almost sobbed in delight when he felt her tongue lick at the seam of his lips, asking for the entrance that he would not, in any way, shape or form, turn down. Her tongue slipped into his eager mouth, timid yet attentive; exploring and learning his mouth from the inside; tooth by tooth, side by side.

His frantic hands gripped her harder, pulling her further into him and Hermione gasped into the kiss when she felt his raging hard-on poke against her belly, but his soft, yielding, sultry mouth stifled any thoughts of halting.

Their kiss ended, eliciting a whimpering sigh of more from Hermione. Her wantonness shocked her, scared her even, but she wasn't going to let her bookish tendencies get the better of her now. She shamelessly wrapped her arms around those broad, pale shoulders, rubbing her jean covered hips against his erection.

Perhaps it was best that she was still dressed – for now.

Lucius unhooked one of the hands from his shoulder and brought it lower, pressing the tiny hand flat against his solid stomach. He could feel her trembling beneath him and he leaned forward, tracing her cheek with a free hand. "Don't be scared," he murmured in a kind of softness Hermione never knew was possible for him.

But even his words couldn't help the twisting in her stomach and Hermione thought for a moment that the butterflies inside her were trying to burst out of her chest.

Slowly, almost tenderly, he moved their hands down together. Hermione could feel the ripples of his stomach, the wiriness of his pubic hair and finally, his hardened length, hot and hard in her hand.

He gave one, two, three pumps of his hand, her own concealed beneath his as a sort of guidance, although Lucius held onto the incentive that she wouldn't need him the entire time.

And when he took his hand away her touch was that of pure concentration and exploration of his sensitive male parts rolled into one. She started slow and innocent, feeling the rough and wiry hair at the base; the ridge feeling the ridge of each vein; running her hand up to the shiny, swollen tip, flushed an angry red and secreting a glistening liquid. Her hand moved back down the thick shaft, stroking and squeezing sensually. She moved down lower again and wasn't sure whether he wanted her to touch him there, whether it was normal to fondle the heavy softness of his testicles in her hands.

His gasp was answer enough and morphed her concern into a smile of triumphant delight as she gave the heavy sac a light squeeze, rubbing the sensitive flesh together and feeling them tighten in her hold before starting the cycle again; base, shaft, tip, shaft, balls.

Hermione wasn't sure where she was getting the sudden ability – perhaps it was to do with her own feminine subconscious that was telling her what to do without her knowing – but she was certain that whatever she was doing, she was doing it good and thorough. She always had been a quick learner.

Lucius couldn't help but moan a string of obscenities into her ear shortly followed my mumbles of, "Harder," or "Faster," and Hermione obeyed. He sucked in a fast breath of anticipation, clenching his eyes shut as her petite hand worked him into a torturous desire to come. He'd never, in all his life, needed to come so much as he did at that particular moment. And when she squeezed his bollocks so sublimely, he was sure he would explode from the inside as sparks of heat jolted his body.

After using only a hand for almost a month – albeit his own hand – things were starting to get monotonous and he'd been in dire need of something different to satisfy his carnal need. But this, this beautiful, tactile hand working his cock into a frenzy, well he could never have imagined a handjob would feel this good.

Lucius felt sweat running down his neck, back, forehead – or was it still water? Who cared? His mind wouldn't function normally. He was sure he would be able to forget his own name his she kept this up.

Listening to the grunts and feeling the shudders of Lucius seemed to bring back the wonderful sensation in the pit of her stomach, a sort of tingle that flooded her thighs with a rush of heat. The tingle grew into a gnawing itch with every gasp elicited from his mouth and a smirk grew simultaneously on her face.

To think that she was the one doing that to him. Her satisfaction added to the heat between her legs.

She kept her hands moving; pumping up and down, again and again, occasionally lingering on the tip and wiping the liquid secreted with her thumb. He would give an involuntary thrust of his hips every time she did so, so she did it more and more frequently, and eventually Lucius had no control over the savage thrusting of his hips.

Lucius clenched his eyes shut as he could hold on no longer. He dug his nails harshly into the girl, dropping his mouth wide in a hoarse cry of fervent ecstasy. His whole body shook in absolute pleasure as he groaned into her neck.

Hermione, worried that she had hurt him, stilled her movements, only to find her hand was suddenly coated in a sticky wetness; thick, warm and creamy. And she suddenly found herself at a point of disadvantage; did he want her to lap up the syrupy semen from her hand? Should she wash it? Not wash it for the time being?

She was above asking Lucius such a pathetic question and she finally got an answer when Lucius scooped a nearby towel from the floor and gently made gentle wiping movements over her hand, soaking all traces of the white liquid into the towel.

Hermione remained silent as she gazed into Lucius' eyes, feeling his breathing heavy against her forehead. His body was almost limp and pushing her heavily into the wall, but she didn't tell him otherwise because she was rather fond of the closeness.

A long while later he spoke. "If you would excuse me, I'll be out in a moment." And then he stepped back underneath the jet of water that was still running from the shower.

Hermione couldn't think straight as her wobbly legs somehow managed to walk her out of the bathroom and sit her down onto a couch. Every question that zoomed through her mind was laced with a menacing 'what it?' that she was certain was threatening to ruin everything. It was difficult enough to resist the urge to run into the larder and lock herself inside so she would never have to see Lucius again.

No! I will not do that! How can we get the world back if I keep myself locked in a cupboard all day?

But everything seemed so different and surreal. Even now, after she'd only touched him in… that place, Hermione was certain that things wouldn't – couldn't – go back to normal! Simply too much had changed within the space of just a few minutes.

But surely the feeling would be the same with anyone? Ron, Harry, even Cormac McLaggen? No, most certainly Cormac McLaggen! Hermione was certain she would have the same reaction with them as she was having now.

And it was not regret she was feeling. Far from it. She wanted to discover more of this strange feminine instinct that was beginning to uncover; she wanted the power she had had mere minutes ago to send Lucius Malfoy's entire body shaking in pleasure she could give him; she wanted him to show her more.

No, it most certainly was not regret, but something she really, really could not place her finger on; something foreign and most certainly unknown to her.

Perhaps it was something to be discovered with time.

Lucius walked into the room finding the girl sitting demurely on a couch and could see that her skin was still flushed with a ripe tinge of red.

It was rather obvious what she was thinking about and he smirked with satisfaction.

He perched himself next to her gently.

"Miss Granger?"

"Yes?"

He moved in closer, smelling the sweat that mingled with her delicious feminine scent and brushed a stray curl behind her ear. "Tell me what you feel?"

Hermione swallowed carefully. "I feel like I did when you kissed me yesterday, hot inside and light headed. A bit dizzy."

He kissed her cheek lightly, moving his lips across the sensitive skin on her face with small presses of his lips. She could feel the stubble tickling.

"Tell me what you want?"

Hermione closed her eyes and took a steady breath to help calm her nerves. She could barely register a single thought in her head, let alone answer his question.

After a trail of kisses along her jaw, she managed to answer. "I want… I want you to make me feel like you did."

Lucius wound both hands up her top and under her brassiere, feeling those glorious breasts that he ached to see, the hardened nipples that engorged beneath his hands crying out for his attention.

He kneaded both soft globes lightly. And there it was. Her little, needy mewl of delight. It was like the most beautiful piece of music to his ears and he would stop at nothing to hear it again.

Hermione felt all clothing disappear, save for her pearly white knickers, with a mumbled something from Lucius. The cool air had no effect on her blazing skin and the hands on her thighs only added to the heat and dewy sweat already forming on her body, as they slipped deliciously up and down, making circular movements just below the place that was oh-so alive with euphoria.

Lucius reached his hands down, pushing her underwear past her thighs and hooking it from her ankles before she was laid fully bare before him; allowing his eyes to drink in the curve of soft hips, the flat belly and pert breasts that heaved with every breath.

Did he really have to take things slowly? He wanted to have all of her at that moment.

Placing open mouthed kisses to her neck and chest, Lucius ran a hand gently up her right leg, pulling it away from its twin and parting them a delicious amount that would allow his hand to fit snugly into the crux between her legs. He almost gasped in amazement when he felt the girl beneath him open them further, giving him the access she so desperately wanted; needed.

He kissed the sensitive skin beneath her ear, as his hand slipped to the place no man had ever touched before and toyed with the curls found there. He gave her a look she could not mistake as anything but approval and Hermione responded with a firm 'Yes'.

Her body was buzzing with a pleasure far too great for her mind to take control of.

She gave a mewl of delight, her hands gripping tightly at the loose material of his shirt, pulling and almost ripping the fabric as she felt his fingers brush against the place that brought an array of new senses humming inside her body. Fingers swept north and south, sliding in the wetness, parting her folds, stroking and moving further upwards to collide with the burning nub.

Hermione thought she may explode as Lucius scraped his fingers across said swollen nub, bringing a jolt of pleasure so intense her hips arced up and into his fingers. Lucius smiled against her skin, she was a needy one indeed.

Hermione closed her eyes forcefully at the breach of her inner walls; surprised to find that the pain she expected was completely overwhelmed by the powerful feelings of euphoria. Slowly, so as not to shock her, Lucius added another finger and the two of them danced inside her, bringing her closer and closer to her release with long, powerful strokes of a tender spot that caused her legs to melt under the brilliant pressure of it all.

She'd heard of the wonderful feelings and such from friends and girls in her dormitory at Hogwarts, but never could she have imagined that a man could do something as good as this with only fingers.

Hermione wasn't sure how much she could take, but when she felt a thumb prod at the little nubbin between her legs, she couldn't keep her hips from moving upwards as she felt her body shatter into one million tiny fragments, opening her mouth in delirium and sobbing her release.

Lucius plunged his fingers over and over, whispering against her ear, "Come for me, witch. Yes, that's it, come for me, come for me…"

Before she could even think about her actions, Hermione pulled Lucius to her, his head resting on her bare chest with his damp hair clinging to her dewy skin. They lay together for an age, neither moving nor speaking. Hermione couldn't help thinking about how unlikely this all would have seemed one year ago, or how it still didn't seem a likely thing for the pair of them to be doing.

Hermione wanted to stroke his hair, thank him for bringing her to something she could never have imagined but before she could do either, Lucius let out a gasp, quickly pulling away from the girl who laid panting and sweating on the sofa.

Hermione sounded her confusion with a small gasp of her own. "What's the matter? Did I… do something wrong?"

Lucius gazed at her with an expression so hard it was like an invisible mask of steel had been placed over the joyous features that had been there just moments ago. "Get dressed now." he mumbled.

"W-what?" Hermione felt her heart drop into her stomach, painfully.

Get dressed now. How could he? After everything she had just let him do to her… After everything she had made herself believe about him; everything she had forced her mind to deny and now he was casting her aside, as if he was trying to fool himself into believing that nothing had happened! Is that how little this meant to him?

Hermione fought the urge to slap her face and call herself a whore.

How could he?

Feeling her eyes brimming with tears, she forced a chocked, "Why?"

Lucius turned to her and there was no hiding the fear blazing in his eyes.

"My dark mark. It's burning."

A/N: CLIFF HANGER!

Now for a long authors note…

I'm so sorry that the time it took to update this was ridiculous! I really can't apologize enough for that and I hope I haven't lost any readers…

So… I had intended to do soft sex scenes (or in this case, foreplay without sex ;D) but I think I strayed away from that idea and decided to go for a totally M rated scene xD I know that some people will be (over the moon!) okay with this but others might not and so I'm sorry if you're one of them but I thought 'screw it! I need to practice getting my sex scenes up to top notch anyway!'

Tbh, I'm really not that happy with this chapter for reasons I'm not even too sure of and I really hope the next one will be better.

I'd like to mention DZAuthor AKA DZMom for a helpful prompt. You reviewed once and suggested Hermione walking in on 'Lucius' hand cranking' which, I'll admit, is where I got that idea from so thank you very much for that idea ;) And also for mentioning that I was a little brief with how they protected the cottage also helped me see sense. I was too lazy to go back and write it into another chapter so I used the excuse with this one. Thank you again for that and I hope you feel more satisfied to know how they did it (even if it was still a little brief, but I didn't want to go into too much detail!).

Omg. I just realised how long this A/N was!