Portugal inspired me!
Hermione stared at her reflection in a three-way mirror. The frothy, pearl-studded gown fell around her feet in voluminous folds. Her veil was attached to Aunt Muriel's diamond tiara with tiny flowers that matched the pearls of her dress. She took a deep breath and concentrated on staying still while maintaining perfect balance on the narrow stilettos of her white satin shoes. Never had she looked so resplendent … and never had she felt more depressed.
There were no jitters of excitement like all the other brides talked about. Only trepidation as flutterings in her stomach increased with each passing minute. She felt like she was going to an execution instead of a wedding. Part of her was going to die today.
The sense of doom closed in on her. She looked around her room. Her books and mementoes that have given her so much pleasure before looked meaningless now. Her whole world was collapsing … and yet she couldn't do the one thing that would stop her misery. This could be one of the last happy memories of his life. She didn't have the strength to take it away from him. Still, Hermione wished for something to happen to change all this.
In the mirror, a movement behind her caught her eye.
"You make a beautiful bride. Even after all the depraved things we've done, you pull off the white exquisitely," said a deep, familiar voice behind her.
She whirled around as fast as her gown would allow, her heart thumping in panic against her ribcage. His eyes burned as he kept looking her over.
"Lucius, you can't be here," she managed to say, flushing under his intense gaze.
He ignored her and turned her back to face the mirror. His hands remained on her shoulders as they stared at their reflection. They looked like a bride and groom.
"I had to see you." His voice was thick with emotion. "I think of little else but you."
Her chest painfully constricted. "You shouldn't say such things to me. We can't keep doing this."
Lucius bent close to her ear. His breath sending thrilling tingles from her spine all the way between her thighs. "Doing what, exactly? Name it, Hermione. Was it an affair? A last fling before you tie the knot? A scratch for a curious itch? You tell me."
Looking away from the mirror, Hermione turned to face him. "We've talked about this. I thought you understood. We were deluded to think that we could make this work. We've made commitment to other people. Perhaps if they were well and healthy, we could simply walk away and pursue our relationship, but we can't. They need us. Who knows how long they have? I've asked you before and I'm asking you again, are you prepared to make the last years of their lives full of pain and confusion? I'm not."
His eyes were a raging silver fire as he said, "I am. You obsess me every minute of every day. Sometimes I hate seeing you … hate how much I want you. The thought of being without you is agony. I am willing to risk anything for you."
At his declaration, her body grew hot under her dress. The sudden heat was almost too much. Her eyes fluttered close.
Lucius blew gently in her ear as he seductively whispered, "I know that look. I know what it means. How wet are you? Are your knickers soaked yet? Are you even wearing any?"
Her thighs clenched at his words. Oh, how she loved his dirty talk! He always managed to seduce her with words before even laying a hand on her.
"Lucius, please go. Go before someone catches you in here!" she said, biting back her whimper of frustration and arousal.
He didn't acknowledge her words as he took a step closer to her, pressing his body tightly behind hers. He audibly inhaled.
"I will go on one condition. I need to be with you one last time," he said, lashing his out to flick at her earlobe.
"Lucius, it's so wrong," Hermione said, her eyes pleading with him in the mirror's reflection.
"How can it be?"
He turned her in his arms. She didn't breathe as Lucius lowered his head to hers. Another shiver ran down her spine. It was as though this mess didn't exist. They were made for each other and no one else.
"One last time," he whispered right before his lips claimed hers.
Hermione slipped her arms around his neck, kissing him back. It was as tender and tentative as their very first kiss. Her head was spinning. Dimly, Hermione heard voices from somewhere in the house. Her bridal party is supposed to come fetch her when it's time … how long did they have?
Her hands clutched at his shoulders as she broke away from him. "Lucius, we can't! Anyone could walk in on us, even if we lock the door!"
Backing her against the mirror, he pinned her arms to it and teased her mouth with his tongue, effectively silencing her weak protests. He kissed her possessively and roughly, tugging hard on her bottom lip.
"You're right," he said when he released her mouth. "Anyone could. It makes it all the more exciting, doesn't it? If you don't keep quiet, they'll walk in to find you in your pretty white dress impaled on Death Eater's cock. They might even think you're being taken against your will until they see you break apart in my arms, screaming for me to fuck you harder."
She gasped in outrage, but her lower body betrayed her. Her knickers were getting wetter with each second.
"What an awful thing to say," Hermione admonished him, but there was an obvious lack of disapproval in her tone.
He responded by savagely kissing her again. His tongue plunged into her mouth, ruthlessly raiding it, until she responded just as ardently.
His hands released hers and dipped beneath the silk neckline of her dress, tugging it down to expose her breasts. Lucius hesitated for a moment, looking into her eyes for any sign of objection. There was none, as usual.
He bent to her neck, licking his way down to one of her breasts.
One last time.
She vowed to memorize every sensation of this moment, to imprint the feeling of his mouth on her skin forever.
A loud gasp left her when he laved her nipple with his tongue. She moved her hands to hold him there, but he didn't oblige her, moving down to kneel before her.
A wicked smile grazed his lips as he raised up her voluminous skirts. Fisting the tulle fabric in her hands, Hermione held up her dress skirt to her waist, allowing him to focus solely on her.
He nibbled on her stockinged leg, moving up to her thigh as his hands gripped her arse to pull her more to him. Hermione whimpered when she felt him nuzzling her through her knickers, teasing her through sodden silk. He urged her to part her legs more and she eagerly complied. The voices and footsteps continued to echo outside her door, but she didn't care. With her luck, no one would walk in on them in a million years.
His forefinger slid inside her knickers, teasing her up and down her slit. Pushing the useless material to her knees, Lucius ran his tongue from her arse to her clit. Hermione gasped and moaned as he continued to lick her, his tongue delving in and out of her entrance, no longer teasing but determined. She twisted the dress in her hands, moaning and shuddering against the cool surface of the mirror against her back.
When his two fingers pushed inside her, his tongue moved to her clit, showering it with relentless flicks before sucking it hard between his lips. It was all it took.
With a low cry, she came, trembling against his mouth as he continued to pleasure her. Only when her breathing calmed did he pull away.
"Get on your hands and knees," he ordered her.
Shaking, Hermione knelt on the floor before him, facing the mirror. She hardly recognized her reflection: her face flushed, her hairdo lopsided, eyes wild, and the bodice of her dress twisted below her breasts.
With a growl, Lucius unfastened his trousers, shoved the skirt of her dress further up over her back and thrust into her pussy.
"Oh fuck," he groaned. "You're always so tight. I think you may injure my cock one of these days."
She laughed slightly at the mental image as she relaxed her weight onto her forearms. He withdrew from Hermione until just the head of his cock speared her. When he shoved hard into her again, her laughter vanished.
He slapped her bottom and bent over her to whisper in her ear, "You think it's funny?"
"Sort of. You can be so melodramatic sometimes," she said, wiggling against him.
His teeth nipped at her neck.
"We don't have much time."
"Aren't you a demanding little thing?"
He straightened up and pulled her up with him, nibbling on her neck, marking her with passionate, sucking kisses as he fucked her with thrusts so deep that Hermione seriously wondered if she'll be able to walk again as she bit hard on her lips to suppress her cries. Not one to be idle, she moved back against him, meeting his thrusts, one of his hands abandoned her hip to squeeze and grope her breast.
There was feminine laughter and conversation right outside her door. Their breath caught and they stilled. Then the footsteps and voices retreated.
"Does Weasley fuck you like this?" Lucius panted in her ear, drawing his hips back before thrusting forward.
Hermione shook her head, unable to do anything but whimper as she felt a strong orgasm building within her.
"I thought not."
He straightened back and pounded into her until an urgent current seized her body and robbed her of sanity and strength. His name left her lips in a loud wail. His hand clapped over her mouth just in time to drown out her cries. Bowed by the power of her orgasm, Hermione collapsed onto the carpeted floor, the fibers scratching at her breasts. Lucius continued to drive faster into her until he groaned in relief, sending sharp blasts of his seed inside her. She felt his mouth at her shoulder, nipping the skin, marking her as his.
When Hermione came down from her pinnacle, she felt him stroking her back and whispering soothing words in her ear. Lucius helped her to her feet and guided her on trembling legs into the washroom. He watched as she adjusted her dress and fixed the mess that was her hair and veil.
Feeling a hot trickle of his release flowing down her thighs, she turned to Lucius. "May I borrow your wand?"
"I have to clean up and I don't want to risk wetting the dress," she explained, feeling her face grow warm.
He smirked and shook his head. "There will be no need for that. Stay as you are. If you're going to marry him, do so with my come still warm between your thighs. Remember this: you may be his wife, but you will always be mine. Every inch of you is mine. You will always belong to me and only me."
She sighed in despair. "Lucius, when you say such things … it makes it ten times harder."
"Don't say that," Hermione insisted. "I am so terribly sorry for this. We never should have started something we couldn't finish. We knew this would bring nothing but misery. Sometimes there are circumstances in life that are bigger than us. I thought you understood that." She reached out to stroke his hair. "I honestly think that just because we can't be together physically doesn't mean we can't be together in our hearts. I'll always love you."
Lucius kissed her and then stepped back. "It's not enough, Hermione. He is all wrong for you. He's probably lying about everything because he can feel you pulling away from him. I won't let him ruin our lives!"
He Disapparated before she could utter another word.
Part of Hermione wanted to get the ceremony over with and put an end to her anxiety. Another part of her stubbornly wanted to stall it for as long as possible. She was so nervous as she walked down the aisle, her hands cold and trembling.
This could be one of Ron's last happy moments in this life, she kept repeating to herself over and over.
The beauty of the ceremony was lost on her as Hermione didn't hear a single word the minister had said. She scanned the Ministry's Matrimony Hall and suddenly spotted Lucius. She didn't think her nerves could handle this much longer.
"If anyone knows of any reason why this couple shouldn't be joined in matrimony, speak now, or forever hold your peace."
Hermione saw Lucius's body tense and then to her horror and relief he strode towards the altar.
Will Mr. Malfoy object to this unholy union or forever hold his peace?