To my faithful readers and reviewers, thank you. You've seen me through to the end of this jaunt. May there be many more. Furthermore, to Mew and Mys - the dears. And always, you Dragon...for your inspiration...and whatnot.
Chapter 5. This Year's Love
When Draco was a child, then a boy, then a teenager, I would often stand quietly in his doorway and watch him sleep. If he started to stir, I moved on, content knowing my son would wake to walk another day.
This day was different. I watched him stir from the pillow beside his; watched his eyes begin to flutter reluctantly, the long lashes there brushing his scrunched cheeks. I held my breath and the comforter to my bare chest, hoping against hope.
His pure blue eyes took in the bed's canopy first, adjusted to the morning light. Then, a smile started to curve his full lips. "Good morning," he whispered.
Relief. "Good morning." I whispered back.
He rolled onto his elbow and met my stare. "Been awake long?"
I shook my head, lying. "Not long."
He reached a finger to my face and stroked my cheek. "Mmm." The sheets rustled as he shifted. "Can we do that again?"
I hated my pale complexion, knew it was revealing my pink lust. "Now?" I'd never made love in the morning, much less to my son. He slithered – slithered! – til he pressed against my body. I felt his erection stabbing my belly. He pulled my hand away from the blankets I gripped like a shield and slid it around his neck.
"Now," he answered. He pressed me into the mattress.
Oh, my rebellious body…every nerve woke in an instant. It was overwhelming. His morning breath was sweet…peculiarly like my own. We tasted each other's mouths. This was a slow exploration compared to last night's desperate, bloody insanity.
My eyes fought against closing. I wanted to watch him do these things to me; take each heavy breast in hand, bring them to his lips, lave my puckered nipples; kiss each rib, lick the dip above my hip. His fingers sparked down my legs, rubbing away the gooseflesh they caused. "You are so perfect," he mumbled in my navel. "So fucking gorgeous. Let me see you, mother."
I knew what he meant. He was pushing my legs open. But this I couldn't watch… The pleasure, the intensity of his eyes, hands and mouth on my core was devastating. I tossed my head back and whimpered my surrender, felt a finger investigate my wetness and heat. "Shit…" Did I say that?
He hissed in a breath and another finger. "Say that again."
I bucked. "Fuck, Draco! Please…"
"Oh, please just touch me…more…further…don't stop!" I'd never in my life been reduced to such…filth. But his lips sucked me so sweetly and his hand fucked me so completely. I felt a finger graze that place – that place – inside me and my words were not my own. "Oh, my gods!"
His tongue left me and I looked down. There was wonder on his face, and something more frightening: realization. "What is that?" He prodded again.
I took hold of his head so hard I nearly boxed his ears. "That's absolute magic, darling," I growled.
We laughed. Laughed? Who laughs when… But then bliss took me again as he found a rhythm to his fingers' thrusts. His tongue probed and parted my folds. He was drinking my essence, tasting greedily. He nipped, flicked and tugged at every fold, every petal of my blooming orifice.
I curled up to clutch at him, to deepen his angle. My body sweat and shook. Draco curled his other arm around my thigh, the hand searching across my abdomen. I keened when those fingers came into play. As gently as he could, he slicked the taut hood away from my swollen clit, studied the anatomical mystery.
"Oh, Merlin!" I gasped. "That's good, son. That's…"
He licked delicately and fire…a crucio of ecstasy climbed my spine. It wasn't orgasm…not like I'd ever known. It was a storm, a barrage of stabbing sharp luxuries that killed me a thousand times and just as quickly became too much.
"Stop!" I pushed his head from me. "Stop, darling." I caught my breath, felt my stickiness slick my thigh when he withdrew his hand. His arms snaked around me, forehead touched mine. His face smelled like me…
"Are you alright?" He kissed my temples.
I just nodded and nuzzled his neck. On his knees between my legs, his angry red cock prodded between my breasts. I bobbed a bit, stroking his hardness between my softness and he groaned deliciously. I gave a few more undulations, pulled him tighter against me, kissed his hard belly. I needed to…reset. And it was his turn, anyway…
"Lie back, baby," I murmured. He trembled, complying.
And there was my God in the golden daylight. Pale as the sheets and dewy. I straddled his thighs and stretched over him, loosing my tensed muscles and feeling his tense beneath my palms. He breathed heavily. I kissed him, never pressing to him fully. I travelled his jaw, his neck and shoulders with my lips, worshipping.
His ribs were ticklish. Again, the strange unabashed laughter passed between us before I reached the perfect symmetry of his hips and pelvic bones. Not even the Roman alphabet flaunted such a lovely V.
I kissed it, too, fluttered my fingers over it. I loved the electric jolt of his belly. His knees raised to balance me.
I stroked his thighs as I settled on my haunches. "Draco. You're perfect." He opened his mouth to reply, but I hushed him when I took hold of his hot erection. "Sshhh," I soothed. I played with the pressure, never having wanted before to produce response, to create pleasure with my touch. And he mirrored my earlier reactions, clenching his eyes and rolling his head side to side.
I let my own fingers explore, tracing veins and the delicate segments of his organ; cupped his balls and gently palmed them.
I dipped before he could continue, shattering his reason when my mouth closed over the head of his cock. "Fuck!" He shouted. Finally. I hummed in response, taking him in til I gagged just a bit. 'Out of practice, old girl,' I thought. I relaxed my throat. 'Better.' He tasted of salt, like seawater, clean and fresh. Bitter pre-cum on the back of my tongue… I swirled and sucked, swirled and sucked, stroked with my hand to keep full contact.
He bucked and whinnied like a stallion pony, choking on words. "Mother…I've never…"
I slowed my ministrations. He'd never? My eyes flicked up. When he met them, he moaned. "Please…"
And oh, I liked that…more than I ever would have imagined. But if he'd never… I slowed and lightened my work, fell to licking and kissing up the sides of his straining column. I wouldn't emasculate him with anything premature. I knew my dragon was discovering. I wanted him to feel every bit the man he had become, and selfishly still, I wanted to make very slow love to him this morning.
So I slid up his thighs, stroked his reddened face with sticky hands. I felt his erection pressed between my wet, ready pussy and his abdomen. "Alright, love." I reached behind me, raising up and positioning him.
He grunted and reached for my hips. "Christ, mum."
This position…I'd missed. He slid easily into me until I was seated against his raised thighs. I let out a breath, and undulated. Oh, hell yes… Our eyes closed in tandem, heads went heavy, brains melted.
"Mmmm." I rode him airily at first, more just rolling my hips. I was sensitive still, and the renewed sensation was like a limb that's been asleep tingling back to wakefulness. His death-grip on my hips increased and spurred me on. Soon, I was rising and falling methodically. My thighs burned. Gods, I would ache from this later…
Draco grunted with each decadent descent. He gritted his teeth. His top lip curled. His face was a rictus of pain and pleasure. I didn't want to imagine my own, hadn't closed my mouth once since my cunt had eaten his eager cock.
"Oh, fuck." He spat and moved quickly, rising up to meet me, clutching me tightly. "Faster," he pled. "Harder, witch!" His own thrusts jarred me.
But I wasn't fast and hard enough. With impressive agility and smoothness, he planted me on my back and raised one of my legs. "Ah!" The new angle scraped my g-spot.
My fingers scrambled down his back, nails scratching. He loved it. I gripped his tight buttocks, adored the feel of them flexing as he pumped in me like a piston gear. I felt the coiling spring. We were a well-oiled machine.
And Draco felt it, too. His desperate face lit. "That's it," he muttered. "I want to feel that, mum. I want to feel you milk me. Soon! How?"
How? Hell, I couldn't think. No, wait…I knew what I needed, wanted. "My stomach," I panted. "On my stomach!" I was wanton.
He flipped me briskly. I moaned when his cock slid out, then groaned when it slid back in. "Yes!" I breathed. "Like this. Fuck me, dragon!"
His pelvis slapped against my ass gratifyingly. The coil wound tighter. "Oh, my god." He settled his elbow by my turned head and whisked my hair aside. "Fuck, you feel so good," he huffed in my ear. "You're mine, mother. This is mine. And I'm yours…just for you…please, fucking hell…Narcissa, please cum…"
My given name sussed preciously from his lips. I put my face in the mattress, let my hot short breath get shorter still, let the burn spread like a wildfire through my belly and bones, let the curl and cut of the most licentious blade carve desire in my organs.
I let him take my life, temporarily. I gave him my magic, my original sin. I clutched the feather mattress in my fingers and clutched his masculinity in my cunt. I came like a demon damned to hell, wailed like a dying creature into the thick down and felt him tense.
He rode my surge with gusto, clinging to my waist with one hand and pulling my hair with the other. He pulled my face out of the bedding to hear my final cries. I was victorious as a Valkyrie.
His own release was quieter, more intense. He shuddered and filled me with his spendings. Only a few rough grunts answered my keens.
His face fell into my neck. We breathed for a time. I felt my heart slowing. Sweat glued us together. I felt it separating when I shrugged him off of me. He was damned heavy!
But how he glowed… I grinned down at him. He smiled tiredly in return. "I suppose another bath is in order?"
I nodded. "And then breakfast. And then, one more bleeding, I think."
His smile fell, but he acquiesced. "Suppose we should be sure."
I kissed him sideways and left our bed. My stretch felt positively miraculous. Our bath saw much hand-swatting and giggling. When was the last time I'd bloody giggled?
Breakfast was nearly the same. We lounged in dressing clothes at the solarium's little table, feeding each other fruit and bites of crepe. The day elf must have wondered mightily at our antics.
After dressing for comfort, we held his last bleeding in the drawing room. The sun shining through the windows made his red blood gleam. Overjoyed, I kissed and lapped it from his wrist before healing the tiny wound.
Draco caressed my head. "I may actually miss this," he said.
"I suppose we could keep it." I fingered the ring I'd just removed.
"Perhaps." We kissed like teenagers on the velvet chaise.
"Helen will come soon," I slurred into his mouth.
"Mmm, so will you," he answered. His hand was creeping into my bodice.
I pushed away reluctantly. "Go tend your damned birds," I said. "They miss you."
He grunted assent. "And after Helen leaves?"
"Then you may have your way with me again. And again." I stood and straightened my frock, touched my chignon back into place. "And again...if I'm not exhausted by dinner time."
I watched him from the patio doorway. The birds rushed to him, circled him. He patted each one, bent and crooned to them. I heard them clucking happily and understood why. It wasn't just food their master lavished. It was his attention...his love. I leaned smiling in the doorframe. I would cluck for him, too.
Healer McCrory was most pleased with Draco's recovery. She sat us both at the dining table and remarked on how healthy we looked. Draco caught my eyes and my blush.
"You must communicate from now on," Helen warned. "Tell your mother at the first signs of emotional disturbance, young master."
I watched him puff his tail feathers a little at her address. "I will," he said.
"We haven't seen any relapses yet, but we mustn't discount the possibility." She looked at me. "And you, Narcissa. Should you wish to talk – about anything – you know how to find me?"
I nodded. I wondered if I ever would need to talk. If the…thing…brightening between my son and myself would ever become frightening. I wondered how long his passionate promise would ring true, how long he would be just for me. How long until the new master – the young master – buckled under the weight of his father's legacy?
I looked at him, regal and buttoned up for our guest's visit. My well God, my practicing peacock. 'How long will you be mine?' I wondered.
Well, for a year at least. He was confined here by law to the Manor. His probation. The deal we'd struck to save him from Azkaban. I refused to think beyond it, refused to let sadness mar this day, this time, this year.
Besides, I had a feeling – a mother's instinct – that this year's love…would last.