Happy Traditions, everyone! Title: Unlikely Bedfellows, Part 8 Author:cmwinters Gift For: all fest participants! [original recipient] wanted hurt/comfort, D/s with spanking and femmedom, threesome, Eastern Europan Summer Solstice/Festival of St. John the Baptist, Saturnalia/Yule, Lammas/First Fruits, anything Jewish and/or anything Christian. Er, I tried. Pairing(s): Lucius/Hermione/Severus, Lucius/Severus Summary: Hermione finds herself in a strange alliance with the Malfoy family when it's discovered that Snape is alive and in desperate need of immediate medical attention Rating: NC-17 Warnings: BDSM, hurt/comfort, slightly dominant female, threesome, some homosexual themes although I wouldn't strictly call it "slash" Author's notes: I hope the beginning isn't too entirely boring. I tried to set it up for something plausible. The muse went on the warpath here. *stabs her with a rusty titanium spork*
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Hermione breathed a sigh of relief as the last of the guests left. The party had been interesting as well as educational, but despite Lucius and Draco's assurances that her presence was appropriate, she couldn't help but feel like a bug in a jar. As the door closed, Hermione indulged in a great yawn and an extended stretch. Lucius observed from across the room with amusement in his eyes. "Tired so soon, my dear?" he asked.
She grinned sheepishly. "I think it's more that I've been breathing shallowly all night in this gown."
He nodded understandingly. "I've no idea why women go to such great lengths to make themselves so uncomfortable, but that is a complaint I frequently hear from Narcissa. Why don't you change into something more comfortable and join me in the master suite for a nightcap?"
Despite only planning on being at the Manor for the duration of the party, Hermione had three sets of clothing with her; the clothes she'd arrived in, the gown she was wearing, and a set of powder blue flannel pyjamas. She frowned at everything when she got to her room. She really didn't feel like changing back into her everyday robes. With a frown, she decided that Lucius had seen her far more scantily dressed, and as it was half-three for Merlin's sake, long pants and a shirt was perfectly appropriate attire.
She padded down the hall in her slippers to find Lucius lounging on the chaise wearing lounge wear that appeared to be completely seamless. She smiled at him in greeting and he rose. "Care for a drink?" he offered.
Hermione was not normally a big drinker but she wasn't morally opposed to drinking. And truth be told, a drink did sound good. "Sure, what do you have?"
He smiled. "A full bar. And wine, if you'd prefer that."
Wine sounded good; even better, it sounded easy, and not too strong — just up her alley, in other words. "Wine would be lovely."
He walked over to the sideboard and poured her a generous glass of Sauvignon blanc. Since he had his back to her when he did so, and because he stood between her and the glass, she didn't see the small phial he tipped into the glass before he did, and she didn't see the characteristic blue smoke that arose from it. He brought the glass back to her and sat beside her.
"So, what do you think of the party?" he asked as she sipped her wine.
"Well, it was fascinating, really. I mean, I read everything I could, of course, trying to make sure I wouldn't embarrass you, or Narcissa, or Draco . . . or myself! But a lot of it isn't written down and while there are some similarities with Muggle traditions, a lot of it has been adapted over time," she gushed, although her exhaustion kept her from speaking at her traditional rushed speed.
"Was there anything you found particularly confusing or bothersome?" he asked, leaning back and taking a healthy draught of his own drink.
She looked at him speculatively. "Yes, actually. Why did you say that Severus wouldn't have recovered if Neville had taken him to Hogwarts?"
He grinned and tilted his glass toward her in salute. "The short answer is, because the Ministry considers that flower a Class A non-tradeable substance."
"But why?" she demanded, confused and outraged at the lack of logic behind such a pronouncement. Why would they consider a healing substance forbidden?
"The Ministry considers a number of old rituals 'dark' — the one that propagated the blooming of that flower among them. What you need to know is that the flower was obtained by congress between myself and my wife in ritual circle on solstice, and that we both went into that ritual with the intent of harvesting that flower to aid in Severus discovery."
She considered that for a moment and then nodded. "Okay. Draco mentioned something vaguely along those lines."
"Well, the Ministry considers ALL sex magic to be 'Dark'."
Sex magic wasn't something Hermione had had particular opportunity to research. By the time she would have normally developed an interest in such things, she was far more distracted by the war going on around her in full-swing, and the imminent need to protect herself and her friends. After, she'd been too concerned with her parents, and then her exams. About all she knew about sex magic was the mention of mystical Indian spiritual practise that most Muggles were aware of, and that the Ministry would consider that dark made even less sense to her than them considering the flower prohibited. She frowned. "Why?"
"It can, and has been, misused, certainly; it's used in a number of binding and compulsion spells. It can also be channelled for use in offencive and defencive spells, particularly around the home and within the family. For example, Narcissa and I could use the power harvested from sex magic to cast a protective spell around Draco, or an offencive one against Andromeda. Sex magic also shares a close affinity with blood magic, which the Ministry, by and large, also forbids."
Hermione considered that for a moment. She knew the protective enchantment around Harry had been cast by blood magic. She also knew that Dumbledore had had some interest in dark magic in his youth. Some of the so-called lines around what was considered dark and what was considered light magic had always seemed indistinct to her; now they were blurring even further.
She started out of her reverie, jolted by the pensive look on Lucius' face. "Forgive me, Hermione; I mean no offence here. But there is also the issue that sex and blood magic tends to be taught within families, which of course puts the Muggle-borns at a position of not having access to it. I half wonder if some of it isn't outlawed just to level the odds."
"But you know it," she pointed out.
"Of course I know it, and I practise it. What the Ministry doesn't know won't hurt them, and they can't get past my cloaking spells to monitor me — another thing that is passed down in pure-blood families. But they can't forbid the cloaking spells, because then the Muggle-borns and those otherwise uneducated about such matters would know about the cloaking spells, and would in all likelihood take umbrage at the idea that the Ministry has the ability to monitor their every spell."
"Hm."
"In fact, I'm quite well aware that the vast majority of Muggle-born and half-blood Ministry officials, as well as those pure-bloods from families who have traditionally taken a stance against so-called 'dark' magic are completely unaware of sex magic at all, or the cloaking spells. That's quite frankly how we recruited a number of them. Promises and demonstrations of power and magic forbidden to them that we were quite well versed in."
She didn't need to ask who "we" were. She almost felt as if he were trying to recruit her, except Voldemort was dead, and she a Muggle-born. In other circumstances, she wouldn't be so sure.
And truth be told, she wasn't sure she'd refuse.
"Everybody has a price, Hermione," Lucius opined softly. "For Severus, it was control. For Pettigrew, it was power. For the Carrows, it was money. For you, it would have been knowledge. And for Narcissa and me, it was our family."
She was about to ask "and what about Bellatrix," when Lucius shifted in his seat and turned toward the door as if he expected someone to walk through it at momentarily. "And speaking of control," he murmured softly.
Hermione frowned. She couldn't see anything, and why Lucius was talking to the empty doorway was beyond her. Moreover, she couldn't fathom why he felt the need to raise his wand like . . .
At that moment, Severus Snape walked into the room with an eager gleam in his eyes.
A gleam that was immediately suppressed when he saw Hermione lounging on the chaise, leaning comfortably against Lucius.
The calm countenance that had replaced the eager gleam was supplanted by annoyance and apprehension when, after a mere second of deft wand-waving and some silent casting, Snape's wand flew from his hand to Lucius, the door slammed shut behind him and the high padded bench that sat at the foot of the large bed slid across the room, separating Snape from them.
"Lucius," Severus said in a calm voice, ignoring the slammed door and the bench. "You had led me to believe you would be home alone this weekend."
Lucius snickered. "No, Severus . . . what I said was that Narcissa and Draco wouldn't be home. I said nothing whatsoever about anyone else."
Snape's eyes narrowed in annoyance. "Might I have my wand back, Lucius?"
"You won't be needing it," Lucius replied with an amused expression. "Not to worry; I've merely Summoned it. It hasn't changed allegiance."
Snape glared at him before turning to Hermione. "Good evening, Miss Granger," he ground out through clenched teeth. He placed such unnatural emphasis on her name that she had the feeling that he was greeting her less out of politeness, and more to remind Lucius of her presence.
"Severus!" Lucius barked in a voice full of outraged authority. "You know the rules!"
The hell? Rules? What rules? There are rules? What's the game? Hermione thought.
Snape, however, apparently knew the rules and the game, as he crossed his arms and snarled "Absolutely NOT!" at Lucius.
"I was afraid you'd say that," Lucius sighed, and before Hermione or Snape could protest, Lucius waved his wand, simultaneously binding Snape to the bench, and stripping him of his clothing. Hermione yelped in shock.
Snape, for his part, thrashed in barely controlled fury. "RELEASE ME THIS INSTANT, LUCIUS!" Snape bellowed.
Hermione, wide-eyed in surprise, could see that somehow the bindings were charmed to tighten with Snape's thrashing; the harder he struggled, the more securely he was bound to the bench. Far from being concerned about this, Lucius watched blankly. Hermione was astonished; not five minutes previously he'd admitted to using dark magic to ensure the recovery of this man. Eventually, Snape's struggles caused his limbs to be so taut that he could barely wriggle, and so tightly was he bound to the bench that although his breathing wasn't technically restricted, he couldn't draw a full breath. The noise Snape next made could been called a whimper of defeat, had it come from any other man.
He lay there panting and struggling, and Hermione gawked at Lucius. She had no idea what he thought he was playing at, but he remained utterly oblivious to her stares. Did she not know the man restrained was a dangerous Death Eater? She somehow doubted that Lucius wanted to kill Snape; therefore, it followed that he would be let free at some point, and when he did, she knew there would be Hell to pay.
This either hadn't crossed Lucius' mind, or he didn't think it a serious threat. When Snape finally lay still, Lucius looked up at Hermione with a broad smile. "Hermione!" He declared, as if he'd only just realised she was there. "Do you remember how absolutely horrid our Severus was to you this past summer?"
She looked from Lucius to Severus and back to Lucius, afraid to speak. Finally, when Lucius' expectant expression never wavered, she nodded. Just barely.
"Well now," Lucius said, "I do believe it's time for some reciprocal abasement on Severus' part, don't you?"
Hermione wasn't at all certain what Lucius considered to be appropriate "reciprocal abasement", but Severus apparently did, judging by his roar of outrage. "LUCIUS! I FORBID . . . DON'T YOU DA-!!!"
Severus' protest was abruptly cut off. "Forgive me, Severus, but I distinctly remember NOT asking for your opinion," Lucius snapped in a voice utterly devoid of pity.
Although he wasn't making any noise, Hermione noticed Severus was panting quite rapidly and began worrying that he'd hyper-ventilate. She also noticed that he was refusing to look at her.
With his guest silenced, Lucius handed Hermione her glass and downed his own drink, distinctly eyeing her.
Afraid of what Lucius would do if she didn't finish the undoubtedly expensive wine, she upended the glass. Lucius smiled, took the glass from her, and walked back to the sideboard to refill it. She was astonished by the dichotomy of his behaviour. He was being perfectly civil to her, and when she thought about it, he hadn't actually done anything to Severus other than restrain him. While that was quite probably embarrassing and humiliating, she was reasonably certain he'd suffered worse as a Death Eater. She thought about leaving the room, but realised she was still armed, and if Severus ended up needing her assistance, she couldn't very well give it from the other end of the building. When Lucius returned with another glass of wine for her (this glass decidedly larger than the last), she took a long draught of it while she was thinking. She glanced back over at Severus, who lay helpless and strapped to the bench.
"You DO agree, don't you, Hermione?" Lucius said, and his cool voice was mesmerising and hypnotic.
Hermione felt a bit groggy as she replied to him. "Yes . . . " she answered slowly. As long as he doesn't hurt him . . . her mind supplied helpfully.
"You want to stay, then?" he prompted.
"Yes . . . " she repeated.
"Good," Lucius drawled, his voice almost syrupy with approval. "Come, stand with me, and I'll show you how this shall be done." He led her to stand behind Severus, which caused her a bit of a pickle. From her previous angle, although she could tell he was nude, she could only see his shoulders and a bit of his back. She knew Snape was an intensely private man, and was quite certain he didn't want her to see his bare arse and testicles, and averted her gaze.
"Lucius, please, no . . . she's my student," Severus implored desperately.
"Ah, Severus, now you bore me," Lucius admonished, rolling his eyes. "Half the witch population of Britain are former students of yours, and as she's passed her NEWTs, she's no longer your student."
thwap!
Severus flinched, and Hermione looked up in surprise. Lucius watched impassively as what was unmistakably a hand print bloomed scarlet on Severus' pale arse. After a few moments, his face beamed with approval, and Lucius turned to her.
"All right," he said. "You want to strike him right about here," he said, holding his hand a few inches away. "Keep your fingers together, and your hand slightly cupped."
"Lucius, NO!" Severus said, thrashing about, and Lucius pounced, hovering over him in a stance that brought to mind a lion attacking a lioness.
"Oh, DO struggle, Severus, please. You know what that does to me!" Lucius said, his voice full of dark promise.
Until he spoke those words, Hermione had no idea exactly how reserved Lucius was being around her. When he spoke to Severus, his tone of his voice was seductive and arousing, dripping with anticipation and need. She suddenly realised the mood in the room had shifted at some point back before she finished her first drink, and her breath came in shallow gasps.
Lucius turned slowly toward her and gazed at her approvingly. "Ah, come to join us, have you?" Her eyes flew open at the smouldering look in his eyes and the predatory smile he gave her. "Good," he purred approvingly. "Now, stand here," he commanded, indicating a spot to his right, "and do exactly as I do." He looked at her expectantly, until she nodded in acquiescence. "Watch my hand carefully," he advised, and struck Severus' arse almost perfectly below where he'd hit it before. "You owe him two," Lucius reminded her. "Try one here," he said, holding his hand at a recommended spot, "and the other here," he said, lowering his hand and watching her.
Feeling extremely foolish, (to say nothing of incredibly apprehensive), Hermione drew her hand back and slapped Severus' arse, and nearly died when the sound rang out across the room. Lucius chuckled at her, but encouraged her. "That's good, that you don't start off too hard. But put a little more force behind the next one," he suggested.
She wasn't entirely sure what his idea of "a little more force" was, but she obliged. "Ah ah ah, no . . . " he cautioned. "You've already got him there. Too much at the same spot too close together could be very uncomfortable indeed. Were you to hit him harder — or with something more firm than your hand, for example — it could really injure him. And we don't want to break him, especially after all that trouble we went to to get him well again. We just want to punish him a bit," he said with a lascivious wink. "So try again — a little harder — and here."
She struck again, surprised at the sting in her hands. "Good!" Lucius said, and responded with a wallop of his own. Between the extra force behind his blows and his larger hands, Severus' left arse cheek was a significantly darker shade of crimson than his right. "Now you," Lucius said, with the air of a man giving out candy to children. "And remember, this is to be a punishment for his abhorrent behaviour. If you don't do it right, it defeats the purpose."
Hermione shot him an unsure glance, but struck again in a slightly different spot, with slightly yet more effort than before. "Excellent!" Lucius gushed. "Just like that! How many was that, Severus?"
"What?"
"How many?"
There was a long pause. Hermione could practically hear him counting.
"Six," he eventually said, but there was the slightest lilt to his answer. "Six!" he said again, this time with more confidence.
"Ahhhh, you weren't counting," Lucius taunted in a sing-song voice. "You know what that means! We'll start over now, from one."
"But it was six!" Hermione protested.
Lucius grinned at her. "That's not the point. He's supposed to count out loud, and he knows it."
Ah. The 'rules'. Right.
A loud slap interrupted her thoughts. "One!" Severus ground out. Lucius waved his hand, and she realised he'd cast an anti-eavesdropping charm.
"I think . . . he's supposed to have forty, twenty from me, and twenty from you," he said, reaching out with both hands and lightly caressing Severus' arse, "but I think we'll do ten each, and if he's sincerely repentant, well, then we'll consider stopping, hm?"
I have to hit him ten more times?!
Lucius waved his hand in a slight slapping gesture, and Hermione knew they weren't going to leave until she meted out the punishment, so she took what she hoped was careful aim and struck. Lucius' response was almost lightning-fast. "Two-THREE!" Severus stuttered.
"Now, be careful not to go too far up, or too far down. You really want to concentrate your strikes in this area," he said, pointing with his finger. "Also," and here he stepped away from her slightly. "Until you have more experience at this, right hand, right cheek; left hand, left cheek. Because," and here he held his right hand close to Severus' left arse cheek to demonstrate, "your nails can be sharp, and particularly on a male, that can be very painful."
She nodded, eyes wide. She never considered that there would be so much to spanking someone, not that she ever put any thought into it whatsoever.
They alternated strokes that way until Lucius' last. Severus' voice grew more and more strained, and when Lucius struck Severus' left cheek for what Hermione fervently hoped was the final time, there was a decided difference in the shades of his arse cheeks. Lucius' side was deeper red and further spread out compared to Hermione's and Lucius gestured that she should strike him much harder this last time. She put as much more effort behind it as she could stand, which was to say, not a lot. Lucius shrugged. "Not bad," he conceded.
Severus lie gasping on the bench, tense and shuddering. Hermione was close to tears and her hand stung like the dickens. She could only imagine how Severus arse felt.
Lucius hummed, taking in her distraught expression. He kneeled behind Severus, wrapping his left arm around the man's legs, and gestured for Hermione to join him. "Give me your hand, Hermione," he coaxed her, and she likewise wrapped her right arm around Severus' legs, joining hands with Lucius. "You are afraid we've hurt him?" he asked soothingly. She nodded, unable to keep her lower lip from trembling, and afraid her eyes were going to spill over at any moment.
"Look," he whispered, and directed his eyes to a spot on the floor in front of Severus' slightly splayed feet. She assumed he was drawing her attention to the small pool of liquid, although what it was or why he wanted her to take notice of it, she had no idea. At the same time, he moved their hands upwards and leaned close to her. "Whatever else happens, whatever you think, whatever your fears . . . never, for a moment," her suddenly dry eyes flew open as he pressed her hand to Severus' rock-hard cock, "think that he isn't enjoying every bit of this."
Severus' guttural roar reverberated throughout the room and Hermione fought to concentrate on what Lucius was whispering in her ear. "He likes it like this," he instructed, guiding her hand to a snug grip, stroking him from base to tip with a slightly rotating motion of her wrist. "He's been a good boy, taken his just punishment . . . now we give him a little reward. Don't stop what you're doing," he directed as he released her hand, and the shock she'd felt thus far was nothing to the shock she felt when she saw Lucius soothingly licking Severus' blood red arse. More, if Severus' tortured groan and twitching of his cock was anything to go by, he rather enjoyed it.
"I think it's time to even the field a bit, don't you, Hermione," Lucius asked, his voice husky and warm.
"Mmmhmmm," she assented, because really, what else could she say? It's not as if she had any idea what Lucius meant by evening the field, but it certainly sounded good.
She watched as he waved his wand, and first his clothes, then hers, disappeared. She tensed; this was different. The entire time she'd stayed with the Malfoy's they'd all been exceedingly aware of proper modesty and privacy, the sole exception being the day Severus first regained consciousness. She certainly hadn't seen Lucius in all his erect glory, nor had he seen what she considered her own rather paltry offerings. But his eyes lit with dark approval and desire when he vanished her clothing, and he moistened his lips and swallowed hard.
She found it difficult to concentrate on what she was doing when she observed the look on his face, and he moved to kneel behind her. "Merlin, you're beautiful," he muttered, stroking her from knee to shoulder, leaving goose-flesh in the wake of his hands. He dragged the very tips of his nails down the inside of her arms and snuggled up against her as his hands left her body to caress Severus' arse.
"Do you feel that, Hermione?" he asked, nuzzling her neck. She could only breathe in shallow, shuddering gasps and close her eyes as she was buffeted by sensation. She wasn't sure which "that" he was asking if she could feel, although she strongly suspected he meant his erect cock throbbing against the small of her back. Surely he didn't mean Severus' likewise throbbing cock, as she'd yet to remove her hand from when he'd directed her to keep stroking him, and Lucius hadn't yet given her reason to believe he had a short attention span. But there was something else — the room seemed to pulse in time with her pounding heart, the air thick with the scent of arousal, each sigh of desire and moan of pleasure amplified and focused, going straight to her brain. A silken warmth seemed to engulf her and she instinctively relaxed into it, and she heard Lucius purr with approval.
"That's power, Hermione," he whispered throatily. "It can be harnessed, stored, and used; it is generated to some degree every time you couple with another. It is magic at its most primal, its most raw; it is the life force that gives us magic, that makes us what we are," he continued, pausing to suckle lightly at the pulse point on one side of her neck and then the other. "And the Ministry calls it dark!" he declared, punctuating the statement by grinding up against her, and he pressed a polished cylinder of a deep bluish-green colour into her left palm. "Do not drop that," he suggested.
She whimpered and faltered, grateful for the arm which snaked around her to support her. "I think Severus has had enough of being strapped to that bench, hm? Let's take this to the bed, shall we?" he offered, and pulled her to stand.
The bed sounded like an unbelievably fantastic idea, she thought. For one, if he continued to obliterate her senses and she fell, the landing would be soft, and if she were lying down, she wouldn't have that far to go. She nodded, and stood shakily.
He steadied her with strong arms. "You'll be all right," he soothed her. "Go make yourself comfortable on the bed while I release Severus. It will take a few moments before he'll be able to walk."
She made her way to the ridiculously over-sized bed with deliberate steps. She wasn't entirely sure where all the blood in her body had gone but it certainly wasn't in her extremities or her head, and it made walking difficult. She was so relieved to reach the bed without having crashed into anything she was barely able to stifle a sigh.
But once she was there, she wasn't sure what she should do. Lucius had said "make yourself comfortable", but she didn't know that lying down was the best choice. She opted to sit, and looked back across the room. Severus was standing, with Lucius crouched before him, massaging his legs while Severus, his eyes closed, leaned slightly on the bench. Presently, Lucius stood and murmured an enquiry, to which Severus replied by nodding. Lucius replied by pulling Severus into a passionate, open-mouthed kiss which seemed to go for an eternity and made the energy in the room thrum in circles around them — and around her.
Hermione was astonished. She wasn't quite sure what the relationship between the two men was, but Lucius had indicated he thought Severus would be interested in her and was adept enough with his hands to use them effectively on a woman's body. Yet, he also clearly had an interest in the other man, and experience enough with him to know what he liked.
Her contemplation was shattered when Severus pushed Lucius away and opened his eyes, shaking his head. Although she could see by the movement of the muscles of his face that he was speaking, she couldn't hear him or even see his lips. Whatever it was made Lucius smile, and he turned and walked toward the bed. Severus followed, eyes downcast.
"Do you think you can kneel?" Lucius asked her with a triumphant grin.
Kneel? She nodded and started to edge toward the side of the bed. "No, no," Lucius smirked. "Go all the way back to the headboard."
Nonplussed, she rose to her knees and scooted back until the ball of her foot touched the headboard. A wave of his wand moved the pillows out of her way, and Lucius stood to the side, gesturing with his hand that Severus should lie down, which he did, although gingerly.
Lucius looked at her, his eyes burning with an intensity she'd never dreamed of seeing from him. "Having duly administered his punishment, and after you so kindly rewarded him for taking his due punishment, Severus is now going to apologise to you . . . in the best way he knows how."
Hermione frowned slightly. She had no idea what Lucius had in mind, and she glanced at Severus, who was lying placidly on his back, breathing evenly. She glanced back at Lucius, who smiled at her seductively.
"He's very, VERY good with his tongue, Hermione. I promise, you won't regret it. Go on now, one knee to either side of his head."
"I can't!" she protested. "I'll crush him!"
"You won't. You're not very heavy and although he's lean, he's quite strong. He also knows to signal me if there is any trouble."
Hermione shot a worried look at Severus. She was entirely unconvinced about this plan, and his lack of input was doing nothing to convince her. "I'm afraid he'll suffocate . . ." she admitted.
"He won't," Lucius stressed. "Trust me, Hermione. I know what I'm doing. It is a sheer delight for a man to have a woman on him like that. You'll be doing all of us a favour."
Hermione chewed the inside of her lip worriedly and looked from Lucius to Severus and back again. Lucius smiled and shook his head. "Severus, she doesn't believe me. Give her some encouragement, hm?"
Quick as a snake, Severus' arm whipped out, wrapped around her waist and pulled her toward him. Hermione squealed in surprise; the rest of him hadn't moved even an inch. She had to throw her arms out to prevent from falling on top of Severus in an undignified heap, and he took advantage of her loss of balance to position her quim right over his face.
Hermione had not lied to Draco; she was not a virgin. But her sexual experiences to date had been somewhat rushed, slightly awkward, and entirely perfunctory. Never in her life had she felt the sheer bliss that was Severus' mouth on her cunt. Already off-balance and startled, she nearly collapsed with the effort of holding herself upright, and Lucius once again stabilised her.
"Easy now," he crooned against her neck. "Just relax," he continued. "Lean against the headboard if you must."
While he whispered soothing liquid words to her, his hands roamed her body, massaging her scalp, caressing her face, stroking her neck. His head lowered to suckle her aching nipples, and his perfectly manicured nails dragged down her back. She squirmed and whimpered at the sensations overwhelming her; Severus wrenched her firmly back into place and held her tightly where he wanted her.
"Sh-h-h-h-h," Lucius laughed, "you're fine. Lean back now . . . that's it. You can watch, if you want," he offered, and she felt him pull away, which only made it possible for her to concentrate completely on what Severus was doing. And what Severus was doing, at that moment, was rather expertly suckling her clitoris and flicking it with his tongue. She buckled again and collapsed, only to collide with what was decidely not Severus.
It was Lucius. And by the angle of his head and the motion of his body — oh dear Merlin beneath a stone, he had to be pleasuring Severus with his own mouth. And quite well, by the agonised groan coming from Severus, one which she echoed when the situation dawned on her.
Lucius was completely unfazed by her collapse, and without losing his rhythm at all, reached out with his left hand to push her to a more or less vertical position and held her there. She could feel the warmth of the stone he held in his palm as it throbbed in time to his heartbeat and hers. Wide-eyed, she watched as Lucius seemed to devour Severus' cock as if it were a rare delicacy and he a starving man. She'd never considered watching such a thing before but found that in the current circumstances it was unbelievably erotic and sent jolts of pleasure through her body. She moaned again and heard Lucius purr approvingly. Severus' arm shot out at that moment and yanked Lucius' head away from his groin. The blond man's eyes glittered in triumph and he looked at Hermione, licking his swollen and reddened lips. "Use your hands, Severus," he recommended, and Severus obliged; the hand that he'd used to pull Lucius off him slowly snaked it's way into Hermione, gently exploring as if searching for something.
Suddenly, he found it, and Hermione found herself quite grateful for Lucius' presence, particularly when he crept back toward her and supported her with his body, ensuring she would not fall. Everything about her was coalescing into a brilliant and expanding point of pleasure and her breathing became ragged and shallow. "That's it . . . good," Lucius soothed, his voice husky. "You'll lie down in just a moment . . . but only I can see you — let both of us hear you."
Severus' wonderfully limber fingers, to say nothing of his tongue, were working her into a frenzy and she curled into herself, recoiling slightly from Lucius. " . . . no . . . " she protested weakly, but Lucius would have nothing of it.
"Yes, Hermione, yes," he whispered in her ear. She was still pulling away from him, and he enveloped her in an embrace which prevented further retreat. His arms wrapped around her and stroked her back, and he ground his impressively erect cock against her. Her behaviour confused him slightly; she seemed to be desperate to retain control of herself. Why someone would deliberately fight having an orgasm when another party was trying so diligently to ensure they had one was beyond Lucius' ability to comprehend. In any case, he had to put a stop to it.
"I could fuck you, you know," he crooned in her ear, "lean you over and take you from behind. I'm quite certain you've never experienced pleasure like that before — to have a mouth on your cunt and cock in it. Severus wouldn't say a word," he teased her. She moaned and Lucius continued. "But he wants you so much, and it would hurt him so badly . . . let him please you, Hermione. Relax into it — don't fight him." At that moment, he suckled the base of her neck and gently tweaked her nipples, and Hermione shattered, becoming limp as she convulsed and gasped.
"Good girl, good!" Lucius praised, guiding her onto her back, and she felt the delicious luxury of the bed cocoon her in its decadent embrace. He leaned down, and she the whisper of his lips across the shell of her ear far more intensely than she heard his barely uttered question. "Will you let him take you? Hermione? Has he . . . grovelled quite enough to earn your favour?"
She whimpered. Lucius' hands trailed lightly down her body, raising goose-flesh in their wake. He reached her legs and pressed them slightly apart and she felt Severus kneel between her knees. "She's so wet," Lucius murmured approvingly as he gently parted her folds with a feather-light touch. Still unable to open her eyes, she felt Severus press against her, but before he slid into her, he leaned down.
"Give me your hand," Severus' voice coalesced around her, weaving spirals down her spine like dark chocolate honey. She raised the hand that held the stone Lucius had given her, and Severus intertwined his fingers in hers, pressing his own stone into their conjoined palms.
"Are you certain you want this?" he asked her.
"Mmhmm," she muttered, long beyond the ability to articulate.
"Look at me," Severus commanded imperiously. She was long used to obeying his "professor voice", and her eyes flew open. Her brown eyes met his black ones, smouldering with arousal and need.
"Are you certain you want this?" he repeated.
"Yes," she breathed, her eyes drifting closed. While he rocked against her enough to make her groan wantonly, it was only slightly.
"I will not take you by force," he insisted, "or by coercion. If you do not want this, I will stop."
Her eyes flew open again, her face a perfect expression of shock. "Don't you dare stop!" she pleaded with him.
That seemed to satisfy him and with excruciating slowness, he pressed into her. She panted in response, feeling her body stretch to accommodate his girth, and chewed her lip. He rested his forehead against hers with a nearly silent groan. "Give me a moment," Severus breathed when Lucius addressed him questioningly.
After what seemed an eternity, he moved almost imperceptibly and the sensation was incredible. Hermione moaned again, and Severus grunted in response. He picked up his pace and deepened his thrusts slightly, and she groaned, tightening her hand around his. He clenched his hand in reply, and thrust into her completely before holding completely still.
She wondered what she'd done to cause this and opened her eyes in dismay. Lucius was crouched behind Severus (when had he moved? she wondered) and presently she realised that Lucius was going to fuck Severus, while Severus fucked her. Over Severus shoulder, Lucius shot her a smouldering look, and began thrusting in and out of Severus, which had the effect of making Severus move within her.
It took almost no time for the men to find a rhythm, and their thrusts into each other seemed to intensify Severus' thrusts into her. The magic in the room was so intense that she could no longer see clearly when she opened her eyes, so she closed them, which was easier anyway. She felt the pleasure she'd had before starting at the base of her feet, travelling up her legs at the same time as it trickled down her scalp past her shoulders and chest, growing more intense with every passing second. Severus and Lucius seemed to detect this and their thrusting became more determined, more intense, and the sensation coalesced into the centre of an expanding spiral right where she and Severus were joined.
Hermione whimpered as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her, engulfing her body with ever-increasing intensity. Dimly, as if through a distant fog, she heard Lucius begin to chant in a tongue she was quite certain she'd never heard, its foreign syllables at once guttural and sibilant. As if in a counterpoint harmony, Severus called a response, and the stone she held clutched in her hand began to grow warm and pulsate in time with the pounding energy in the room. Lucius spoke again, his voice taking on a sing-song quality, and once again, Severus answered him. The energy in the room intensified and the pleasure coursing over her fed off it and multiplied. Again, Lucius started and although their words were different, Severus chanted with him. The room seemed to take on a blinding light, her body felt as if it were exploding in ecstasy, and her last conscious thought before everything went black was that she would surely die.