This story goes hand in hand with my long story, Discovering Beauty, although there is no reason why it cannot be read and enjoyed even without knowing that. It is from Lucius' point of view - a day in his life with Hermione. For those who do not know the story, you need to know that Lucius and Hermione are in an intense, loving, but deeply erotic relationship, which defines and guides them.

Be warned - this story is for mature readers - it is not for the faint-hearted. Theirs is a story of passion, need and completion - it is described as such in vivid terms, both emotionally and physically.

I have quoted from the Song of Solomon, and named it after a line from that. It is the most beautifully sensuous book of the Bible, and the words are exquisite and seemed to me to convey their relationship - a reawakening and sensual blossoming into new life.


My beloved spake, and said unto me, Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away.

For, lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone;

The flowers appear on the earth; the time of the singing of birds is come, and the voice of the turtle dove is heard in our land;

The fig tree putteth forth her green figs, and the vines with the tender grape give a good smell. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away.

The Song of Solomon, 2:10-13

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She is sleeping.

Her face is turned towards me. The long eyelashes caress her soft skin and I can detect her eyes fluttering beneath the dormant lids. There is the slight flush of deep warm sleep on her cheeks and her mouth hangs open a little to draw in regular breaths.

Her mouth.

It haunts and entrances me in equal measure. The full bottom lip, always a dark pink, but deepening yet further at moments of passion. The top lip so broad, the wide filchrum spreading it so deliciously, inviting sweet goodness.

I do not think I can remember a time before her mouth.

As ever in the morning her hair falls wildly around her. It is untamed and tangled – a sign of our activity during the night. I lean over and breathe it in deeply, letting it play around my face. She smells of summer berries, so rich, ripe and sweet. It is my first nourishment of the day. She inhales deeply but does not wake.

My eyes move down her body. I need more. My hand takes the sheet which is lightly covering her and moves it gently down to reveal her warm silky skin. I breathe in deeply to fill my lungs with the air they need.

She is beauty.

Her breasts, with their deep pink nipples fall full but firm down her torso. Her waist dips exquisitely only to rise again into her hips before the sublime line falls once again over her legs. I must touch, and reach out to place my palm on the valley of her waist, feeling the slight rise and fall of her steady breathing.

There came a time when I called to her, unknown; the time of desolation, of desertion, of question. I called and waited.

I waited still; for what, I did not know.

And she came to me. She fell into me and I caught her.

And in catching her she stopped me from descending further.

But at first my fractured life did not see it. Could not believe it; could not trust enough. But she gave herself to me; she gave all she had, and I took, and with that I was complete.

And I could only give to her. I will give forever more. She defines my very existence.

She stirs a little. I do not wish to disturb her, but I know my need is too great. It is always there, present in me now. And she will take it, she will take my pleasure and hers; she will take my energy and in return will reward me with more life than I thought possible.

I know I have risen for her, as I always do. I am burning, throbbing. I must enter her; there is never a choice. My hand comes up to push her over gently onto her back and then I move down to part her legs. I see her glistening, ripe, even in sleep she is ready. I swell painfully and must enter her. Placing my hands on either side of her, trying not to push too hard down on her, I press inside her. Immediately she engulfs me with her velvet wetness. This is where I belong. This is where I must be.

I do not move, merely feel her around me; more nourishment, more life. But my hunger is too great, and the tension in my taut muscles needs assuaging. I pull out; the head of my swollen cock drags along her slick tightness. A groan escapes me; how can it not? My cock protests at the withdrawal and instantly I plunge myself deeper than before. Then out again, and in, and again, and again. It is almost too much. She arches subconsciously beneath me. A surge of pleasure courses through my body from my member deep inside her. But still she does not wake. I move ever more urgently. So close now. A groan escapes her in her sleep. I know that sound. It is a sign of her approaching ecstasy. I raise myself to rub against that exquisite bud of flesh, so ripe, ever for me. Even in sleep she will give herself to our pleasure.

The steel of my cock spreads through my limbs. I am there. With a final thrust I feel myself disintegrating into her. Pleasure, as if for the first time, explodes within me. It is always thus. Each time her perfection is a revelation. My groaning gasps break the silent morning air as my seed shoots inexorably into her beauty. As I look down on her, her eyes open suddenly and with a sudden awakening gasp she comes around me, rapturous surprise breaking over her face. It draws further bursts of my essence from me.

Her eyes gaze up into mine now, deep and giving. The mouth breaks into a smile as the last twitches of rapture fall from her limbs. I lean down to kiss it. Immediately the lips part to allow me in. I search inside the wet warmth, soft and dewy; the sweetest place, a place of healing.

We kiss. I know not how long. I cannot stop; neither can she.

When at last the reality of daily life creeps back onto us, we finally break apart.

"Good morning." Her voice is a balm. I can only smile in return. "What a delicious way to wake up."

She stretches beneath me. We both know I am hard again already. I am always hard when she is before me and there is time. It surprises even me. It is only with her that I have been like this. My body's ability to take her, to take its own pleasure staggers us both.

She arches beneath me, her arms coming up to rub over the silks beneath her. I see the fine hairs on them standing up. She moans her need out to me. I recognise the sound; it stirs in me the forces which bind us, the forces which she embraces as much as tenderness and supplication.

With sudden need and with surprising strength she rolls me over. Her eyes have darkened and her lustful passion is burning with a fire I know all too well. It ignites the flames in me all too ardently and I struggle to remain passive beneath her. She grins down at me and places herself over my swollen tip. My cock cries out to her, and she answers it. She moves down. But so slow, so agonisingly slow.

Her laugh breaks the air. She knows how she torments me.

Rising slowly again, I feel her tight slick walls pulling my cock, squeezing my pleasure.

"Fuck!" The word explodes from me. Again she laughs. Her breasts sway before my eyes in time with her mirthful exhalation. Her teasing is too much and as penance I reach up and take them hard in my hands, plying the flesh.

She groans in ecstasy and pushes harder into my hands. "Yes ... more ... more ... you know ... fuck more!"

I oblige instantly, rubbing the nipples and feeling them rise to rock hard points beneath my touch. Then I take them suddenly between thumb and forefinger and pinch as hard as I can. She cries out but I know it is what she delights in. I stare up in wonder, and my fingers twist ever harder, as the expression on her face changes from agony to rapture.

"Yes ..." she breathes out as the painful ecstasy flows through her body. I feel it manifesting itself around my engorged cock, still tightly sheathed within her.

We need it. We both need it. The pain and the pleasure. The darkness and the light. They are one of the same. Indistinguishable to us both. That is what binds and defines us. Our bodies and souls so bonded that there is no distinction - we feel only life.

She is my brightest angel and my darkest demon.

I continue to twist and pull. Her breasts are tugged out from my grip on her nipples. At the same time, she is able to rise up and down so perfectly that it will not be long. She is moaning incessantly above me. The sound of her pleasure is so thrilling that with a final plunge down onto me I come explosively within her.

Her head is thrown back and I feel her pulsing around me, tight, so tight it almost hurts, but it is so good ... so good. Her ecstasy courses through her and her body heaves uncontrollably above me as I raise myself up to be as far into her as possible. There is never a more sublime sight.

At last I take my hands from her breasts. The nipples are red and angry. As I come down from the heights of pleasure, a pang of concern flits through me. Did I do that? Did she allow it? She hisses in sharply as the blood flows back to them. I frown up at her to assess her agony. But once again, her face merely widens into a smile of purest delight.

Her hands come up to cup her breasts lightly, soothing them, but she looks down at me.

"My darling ..." she breathes before lowering herself to kiss me deeply once again.

I hold her tight and we stay entwined, drifting off into a sleep again.

It is Saturday. It is a day of togetherness. We rarely dress fully, rarely venture out. It is winter and it is raining. We have given the house-elf the day off, so that the house is ours alone.

She is in the kitchen, cooking. It fills me with joy to watch her. The house adores and welcomes her. This room in particular she has made her own. We spend more time here than in any other room, apart from the bedroom. It seems strange that I have lived here all my life, and until she came, hardly ever ventured in here. The same was said of my former wife. She could not tolerate the thought of being in a place she associated with servitude. At that time, I agreed with the woman.

How different now. I watch her preparing breakfast. I have told her I do not expect it of her, but it is her decision. She loves it. She sings to herself as she moves, gathering ingredients and implements, preparing the food. I cannot take my eyes off her. Her body glides around, so at home here. My soul swells. She was made for my home. She was made for me.

She turns, sensing my eyes on her. She smiles. I nearly weep. Do I yet deserve her?

We eat peacefully, our eyes rarely parting. She talks about a book she is reading with such depth and eloquence I myself struggle to comprehend the sentiments she is expressing. Her soul is so full of life, remarkable for someone so young, that I find myself rushing to keep up. She does not seem to notice, and confesses herself in thrall to my intellect. It amuses me.

After breakfast – although it is late already – we go into the drawing room. After the kitchen, we love this room second to none. My love for this woman is never so apparent as here, the place where she first seared herself onto my consciousness, through her pain and dignity. She settles down to read the paper, unaware that my memory is seeing her again in agony, writhing on the floor.

Her acceptance of this place is staggering. It holds no fear for me any longer, due only to her love, but my mind can never fully shake off that moment. It must not. It reminds me of my own fragility, and how I cannot live without her. Again she smiles at me, a slightly curious look in her eyes. She holds her hand out for me to join her on the sofa.

I cross and stand before her, I cannot sit. She stares up at me in silence for the longest time, and I see a shift in her eyes. The tension inside starts to mount. It will be addressed.

Her eyes darken and she stands quickly pulling my head languorously down to hers and parting my mouth with her hot questing tongue. I groan into her warm mouth. She presses the length of her body against me and my already hard member grinds into her. A gentle moan of need escapes her. It is exquisite. I feel soft hands at my belt, and soon she has released me. I step out of my clothes and she has knelt.

The anticipation is too great, but I resist taking her head and pushing it down onto me. I know all too well that if I leave her to do what she does, I will be rewarded more than I could ever have imagined. Her hunger to take me in her mouth amazes and thrills me equally. She is never so desperately needy as when engulfing me with her delicious tongue and lips.

I watch now, struggling to draw enough breath as she smiles teasingly up at me, her tongue just flitting out towards the tip. I see the first signs of my pleasure forming on the top. Her eyes glance at it and the tongue reaches up to capture it. My cock jolts at the slight wet touch, seeking her out. She pulls back. Fuck! I wonder if I can stand it. I struggle not to grasp her hair and force her onto me. She would not mind if I did, but I wish to relinquish control to her. It is usually the way in this room. This place is for her to use me as she wishes. I have abandoned myself to her in here.

Again she watches me. And then her mouth opens and at last she moves her head down onto my aching fullness. I disappear slowly into her, but she does not enclose her mouth around me, and a grunt of need forces its way from my throat. The throbbing anticipation is hurting me. She merely smiles around me. Then finally, finally her lips close around the head, and her cheeks pull their wet silky tightness around me. A shaft of pleasure shoots through my core and my hand involuntarily clasps her hair to hold her there. Immediately she pulls off, and cold air courses round the shaft, causing agony to engulf me. With every ounce of effort in my body I release my hold on her hair.

She looks up at me, more chiding this time, and moves back down. Her tongue is out, and as she descends, it swirls leisurely around the head, drawing out more delicious pleasure as it moves. She fixes me with her eyes and pushes further down. I know what is coming and never cease to be amazed. I watch, enthralled, as inch by inch she takes me deeper and deeper into her. Her capacity is staggering. I feel my tip pushing at her throat. Fuck, I'll come. And yet more she relaxes and moves even further down. I feel myself descending into her throat and she holds and pulls it in around me.

I am fully in her. She has taken my whole length into her. I can only gaze in wonder at the sight before me, and the feel of her encasing me so wet and tight.

At length she needs to pull back, but drags herself so hard over me, that she brings me to the brink. I cannot recall being so tensely poised, every muscle primed for the dissolution of ecstasy. My breathing comes in short deep gasps. Her hand is up now, holding my heavy sac, stroking, caressing it. She gasps in her air in a gulp of lustful need. It is the most erotic sound I know. Then immediately her own hunger is too great and she plunges once more down, taking me fully again, then swiftly back, this time rising and falling rapidly and hard, drawing me out and out.

It is too much. My body is rock, then fractures as the ecstasy breaks me down. My eyes close inadvertently and my pleasure pours out of me into her mouth. I burst into her hot wetness endlessly, more than is possible, surely. My mouth opens and I am aware of sound issuing forth, but it is indefinable and unrecognisable as my own.

When my body at last recovers, my eyes open and I look down to see her before me. She holds my release in her mouth. A little has trickled out onto her lips. Her tongue flits out to draw it back in. It is almost too much to behold. Then gazing up at me, she swallows hard, her eyes then closing in bliss.

I can stand no more and collapse onto my knees, pulling her in tight to me in adoration and gratitude.

After a time, with a simple smile, she raises herself up and sits back down to read the paper.

We manage a light lunch and she goes to the swimming pool. I leave her for a time. There are times when we are content knowing the other is near. Our minds are now so connected that we can read the other despite not being together. I have at times read her thoughts through Legilimency, but resist doing so. It is a liberty I was never comfortable with, and resisted the Dark Lord's insistence that I honed my skills. Why should one wish to know the darkest thoughts of another's heart?

I have no such fear with her, but my dignity remains. The connection between us is so great, that the thought processes do not have to be made explicit in any case.

After a time, I go to the pool, and watch silently as she swims elegantly through the water. More beauty.

She rises from the water, it drips from her immaculate form. I am hard instantly. She comes across to me and instinctively knows. Her hands run over my groin and she smirks up at me, but continues to walk away. She has teased enough today. I know she wants to feel me as much as I do. I pull her back into me hard. She falls against me with a gasp, but soon her hands are up, fumbling for my buttons, searching out my flesh.

It takes too long, and I mumble a charm to divest myself of my clothing. It vanishes and she exhales in delight as I am suddenly naked before her. She lowers her head to my torso, but the force is too great inside. Her slow torment of me earlier needs addressing, and I feel a familiar surge inside. She glances up, seeing the hardening in my face. She knows what is to come and bites her lip, her eyes blurring in anticipation.

I grab her arms brutally. She cries out with pain, but smiles at me, thrilled. My head descends to her damp neck and I assault the tender flesh I find there. She gasps and her head falls back.

"Yes ... more ... you know what I want ..." her plea is too much.

I release her bikini top and she pulls the pants off quickly. Then I spin her round and she sinks swiftly to her knees. Her backside sways for me, and I lower myself and immediately plunge into her fully. She groans with the sudden fullness, but pushes herself back onto me hard. I clasp her hips. I need to hold her to me, claim her as my own, and my grip tightens. I feel my fingers digging painfully into her tender flesh.

I pull out only to thrust in as hard as I can, driven by the same force that has dictated my life, but which she welcomes with her body and soul. She groans again, a deep sound of fulfilment. Her acceptance of me, of who I was, of who I still am, is overwhelming. At times it brings out my light, but now at this time, we both know it will draw forth the darkness. And she will welcome it with all that she is.

My body girds itself, my mind clouds. The woman impaled on me meets each drive forward with equal fire, crying out, pushing back hard onto me. Her words sound around me. I force myself to listen to them.

"More ... fuck more ... Lucius, please, my darling, my love, please ... you know what ..."

She pulls herself forward and off me, then positions her backside a little lower, proffering her tight, star-like opening instead.

I hesitate, but know I will succumb. Summoning a bottle I smear the viscose liquid onto myself and around her as much as possible. I cannot stop myself, but the act always stirs in me some feeling of shame, which I try to minimise beforehand. But the woman beneath me has no such qualms. Her beautiful rump is writhing before me, and she is moaning incessantly, knowing what she needs.

With my possession of her soul, comes my complete possession of her body. And I will take it. I can do no less. There can be no other way. I need her to be quiet and calm and hiss down to her.

"Be still, witch. Silence!"

I grip her hips, immobilising her. I pause. The power coursing through me reminds me of a time long ago now ... it thrills and terrifies me equally. She is completely silent and passive beneath me, waiting, waiting ...

My voice sounds around me. The sound is unfamiliar to me now – cold, hard - but I know she will respond to it. That is why she is mine.

"Are you ready, witch?"

"Now." She can say no more.

I push in as far as I can in one go. Immediately my being is consumed by the most profound pleasure imaginable. She cries out. I know she feels pain, red and raw. It is the complement of my ecstasy, the alpha to my omega.

Should I question her agony? Should I stop?

I cannot. I will not. She will take me. She will take all my pain and absorb it.

The flames sweep through me and I feel my strength as never before. I push deeper into her, drawing a gasp of feeling from her. She is used to me in her tightest passage now. She herself asks for it there, more than I request it. I know it no longer causes her the intense burning agony it used to, but it will always hurt her initially. My cock is squeezed within her tight, secret passage. I look down to see myself disappearing into her. My mind blurs with emotion and sensation.

"Don't stop – please don't stop." Her voice is low and hoarse. How I can I refuse? I pull out a little, scraping her tender flesh as I go. Then once again, I thrust, this time I power past her tight ring, and find myself almost completely buried in her. We both stop with the sudden feeling of completion.

We are panting, feeling the other, becoming one of the same. My eyes prick and I concentrate to stem the tears starting to wet them. I reach under her, thrusting two fingers deep into her pussy. It almost surprises me to find her sodden with need, but I am grateful for it and draw my hand up to stroke along her folds, up to the sacred nub of flesh at the top. She groans loudly, and I know the pain is shifting, growing into her own pleasure. I pull out, rubbing her swollen clit again, then push slowly back while caressing it. A primordial noise sounds from her; it fires me again. I start to move regularly now.

The pleasure to my cock is immeasurable. The sight, sound and feel of this woman as I thrust into her tight hot arse moves me beyond words. I can only just concentrate enough to still touch her clit, but it is enough. Her voice comes to me again.

"Fuck ...harder... harder ... drive into me ... all the way ... more ... always more ..."

With that I am undone. I think I have lifted off, bringing her, impaled on me with me. With a final hard thrust fully into her, I burst open from my cock, my pleasure flooding her. I cry out loudly, unable to stop the sound erupting from my depths. She joins me. I know she is coming as her body is tense and juddering. Even in her arse, I can feel her muscles pulsating hard around me. She screams in triumph. The power has shifted. In taking my pleasure, in harnessing her own through deliberate agony, she has defeated my past once again.

I do not pull out until I have softened completely, and the loss of leaving her is lessened.

She is sore afterwards and I walk her gently up to the bedroom where she lies for a moment, while I stroke her idly up and down, soothing and caressing her.

I run her a bath, which she lies in, the bubbles clinging to her sweet flesh, easing away the tenderness.

I sit beside her, bending down to kiss the full mouth, still flushed dark with ecstasy. She responds immediately. We never tire of each other. She tastes of peach, and I thrust my tongue in to garner more of her sweetness. It is not enough. She needs tenderness. I need her.

I reach into the bath and pull her out. Lying her down on the thick bathroom rug, I quickly lower myself to between her legs, pushing them wide open, to gaze down at the sight revealed to me.

A few bubbles still cling to her thighs and sex, and I wipe them gently away with a towel. Then with a final look of anticipation, I lower myself. I inhale deeply, the smell of peaches is here too, only stronger. I bury my head into her, she presses her hot wet flesh into me. I want to disappear into her, and force my tongue as far up her as I can. I am met immediately with a flood of her desire. I could drown in it. My thirst is unquenchable and I drink and drink.

Then when I have soaked up all the essence I can, I withdraw my tongue and sweep it, hard and fast up to her engorged clit, circling it deliriously. She groans with pleasure and pushes further down onto me. Another rush of wetness floods my mouth. I suck it all out of her. My need to feel her is urgent, and I plunge two, three fingers up into her. Immediately her primed muscles clamp hard onto me. I move them inside her, delighting in the exquisite liquid velvet I can feel. She is moaning incoherently and my tongue laves hard and steady, teasing that delicious kernel of agonised flesh to the point of oblivion. My fingers stroke a final time and, unable to hold myself back, I encircle her clit fully in my mouth and suck hard. She screams and gushes onto me. I drink her in. My fingers are pulled up into her as her orgasm tears through her body. She shudders around my mouth, and I struggle to contain her ecstasy as it threatens to overwhelm her. Just as her pleasure is dying down, I suck her clit once again, eliciting an aftershock of rapture which heaves idly through her still delirious being.

She lies almost unconscious afterwards, but eventually opens her eyes blearily and smiles blissfully at me.

I bring my hands around her and carry her back to the bedroom, placing her on the bed and lying next to her. I stroke and kiss her tenderly before she falls into a deep sleep.

I will live in her and she in me.

And I will love her forever.

Hermione.


I would love to know what you think. Many thanks. LL x