And the night shall be filled with music...Author: islandsmokeCharacters/Pairings:
Lucius and Narcissa MalfoyRating:
ceraunophilia: arousal by thunder and lightning/stormsOther Warnings:
cunnilingus, romanceWord Count:
"Can you feel it, Lucius? Can you feel the energy dancing across your skin?"Author's Notes:
The title is from The Day Is Done
by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. Thanks to busaikko
, and hogwartshoney
for beta help.~~ And the night shall be filled with music... ~~
His voice was almost lost in a crash of thunder. Several brilliant flashes of lightning illuminated the unused second-floor ballroom and silhouetted the slender figure standing in front of the floor to ceiling windows that made up the far end of the magnificent, dusty room. In the flickering light, she looked almost like a ghost.
He moved slowly across the parquet floor, his eyes fixed on the still figure by the glass even when the room was in darkness. He stopped just behind her as she stood with her arms wrapped around herself in the chilly room. She was naked beneath the light, silk dressing gown; she always slept naked in their big, warm bed.
"Can you feel it, Lucius?" Her eyes were wide and fixed as she stared out at the tempest raging a thin pane of glass away. She stroked her hands up and down her upper arms. "Can you feel the energy dancing across your skin?"
Lucius put his arms around her loosely; she was trembling. "No, love." His voice was soft; they'd had this conversation before.
Outside, the storm roared like some mad beast. Rain hammered the glass panes, sounding loud in the ballroom and providing a steady counterpoint to the thunder. There was an almost constant flicker of lightning and intermittently, brighter, closer flashes. Thunder rumbled unceasingly, flowing seamlessly from low, background grumbling to crashes that made him wince, then almost dying away again.
The view outside the streaming windows reminded him of an old, stuttering, black and white Muggle film he had once seen, images frozen for a micro-second in time, then moving forward haltingly. The pond was churning with waves, the rose bushes were hammered near to the ground, the water was blowing out of the fountain, and the trees thrashed as though trying to tear themselves apart. Leaves littered the patio below, and a broken limb had flattened the perennial border on the east side of the rose garden.
"Won't you move away from the window? Come back to bed?" The last was added a bit wistfully. He knew better.
There was a sustained flare of lightening, followed almost immediately by a crash of thunder so close it made his teeth ache. Narcissa leaned forward in his arms, panting lightly through her parted lips.
"It tingles, and… and… buzzes
." Her face was avid, hungry. Through the light material of their dressing gowns, her nipples pressed, pebble hard, against the inside of his arm.
He closed his eyes as his arousal surged to match her own, and he rocked his hips against her.
She placed her hands on the metal mullions of the windows and stepped back, bending over slightly and spreading her legs in invitation.
It was his turn to tremble.
Gently, he pulled the sash of her dressing gown loose and moved the material to one side, baring her creamy skin and the magnificent curves of her hips to his hungry gaze. He gathered her long, thick mane of hair and spilled it across her back. The golden strands appeared silver in the light of the storm, and he moaned as he nuzzled through the sweet-smelling cascade and pressed his lips to the nape of her neck.
Trailing kisses down her back, he dropped to his knees behind her, moving as close as he could. She canted her hips, displaying herself to him as he leaned forward and licked
, delighted as always by the sweet taste of his lover. He was eager as he lapped and lapped, burying his face in her, pressing against her as he swirled his tongue over her clit, and when he felt the slim thighs under his hands start to shake in earnest, he sucked
and she cried out her pleasure.
He stood, supporting her gently, and twisted his neck to remove the crick that had formed there. When her eyes opened again, when they once more fixed on the chaos outside the window, he opened his own dressing gown and pressed his length against her.
She pushed back eagerly, and without further ado, he slipped inside her welcoming heat. A giant fork of lightning split the sky and she moaned, her muscles rippling along his cock.
Gripping her hips firmly but carefully, so as not to bruise, he thrust into her steadily, relishing the wet warmth and marveling at the way her muscles gripped him as though trying to pull him in deeper. He grunted as he thrust harder, and was rewarded with her pushing back with equal energy.
His pace increased, becoming slightly erratic; she felt so good, so tight, so willing
to have him lose himself inside her. He slid one hand forward, his fingers delving into her moist folds to gently circle her clit. He could feel the tension building within her as surely as his own was building, low in his belly.
A blinding flash lit the world around them, and the big willow by the pond went incandescent for a single moment before it blew apart. The simultaneous crash of thunder almost drowned out the sound of the lightning strike, the combined concussion making the old manor shudder.
Lucius' hips stuttered for a moment in the aftermath, but then Narcissa cried out, her fingers scrabbling against the glass, her body nearly folding with the force of her orgasm. She clamped down so hard on his cock that it was almost painful, and he thrust wildly, desperate to join her in release.
He came explosively, his eyes closed, his back arched, his mouth open in a silent cry.
Slowly, they came to themselves, pulled their clothes back in place, and wrapped their arms around each other.
Lucius brushed the fine strands of hair from Narcissa's damp forehead and kissed her reverently. She laid her head against his chest and closed her eyes.
"Can we go back to bed now?" Lucius' voice held the faintest trace of amusement.
Narcissa turned to the windows again and surveyed the storm. It was passing quickly, seemingly satisfied with the damage it had wrought. The lightening flickered less frequently, and the thunder no longer caused the chandeliers to quiver.
She smiled up at him. "Of course, my love."~~
Nine months later, during a gentle spring rain, Draco Malfoy was born. The next day, Lucius planted another willow tree by the pond.~~**~~