Wild Card (Exhibitionism)

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Alice threaded her fingers through Lucius's long, pale hair and tugged on it, pulling his head back so he was looking up at her.

"I don't think you were listening to me," she told him, raising an eyebrow and pouting sweetly. "I think you were too busy gazing at your precious peacocks." She indicated the wall outside the picture window, where albino peacocks were strutting around, occasionally stopping to peer in the window at the unfamiliar woman standing with their master.

"I was listening to you," Lucius said. "I was just thinking."

"About what?"

"Narcissa," he said, and Alice let out an impatient sigh.

"Oh honestly, Lucius, you're always thinking about her. Are you worried that she's going to walk in on us?" The corner of her mouth lifted into a devious little smile. "Scared that she's going to catch us together?"

Lucius rose immediately, shaking Alice's fingers loose from his hair, then grabbed her by her waist and pressed her face-first against the window. He leaned in close, so his lips brushed against her throat.

"Would I do this if I were scared of Narcissa catching us?" he breathed, his hands caressing her waist. The peacocks had stopped to watch and Alice smiled against the glass, as if they would understand what her smile meant.

"Or this?" Lucius's hands were on her hips now, and then one dipped down between her legs, his fingers pressing through her skirt. Alice let out a quiet moan. The feel of the glass against her breasts, and Lucius's body holding her in place, and those lovely, skilled fingers working at her…

"No," she murmured, rocking against his touch. "No, I don't suppose you would."

"Too right." He slid his hand beneath her skirt and his fingers found her clit, stroking and pressing on it while she bucked and moaned, and what a sight she must have been, pushed up against that window with the peacocks looking at her, and visible to anyone who might happen to be walking below…

But there was no one below.

Not then, at any rate.

And so she closed her eyes to enjoy the onslaught of pleasurable sensations. But as Lucius worked his fingers into her and Alice moaned and rolled her hips wantonly against his touch, moving ever-closer to her climax, her eyes fluttered open and she caught a glimpse in the garden of movement and white-blonde hair.

"Lucius!" Alice gasped, but he mistook her panic for arousal and kept at her, slamming his fingers into her, pressing rough kisses to her neck, unaware of his wife's presence. Alice met Narcissa's eyes and her body burned with shame and guilt, but also with a fresh wave of arousal. There was a terribly vindictive part of her that loved being watched having Narcissa watch her, having Narcissa know that she, Alice, pleased Lucius more than Narcissa ever could…

Alice came on Lucius's fingers, and she watched Narcissa avert her eyes while she writhed with pleasure.

Only after Alice had finished, had come down from her high, and was relaxed and panting in Lucius's arms, did she murmur in her sweetest voice, "Lucius… we have an audience."