Chapter 2

Ginny was warm and content. She felt this without precisely thinking about it; it just was. Her skin buzzed lightly, some places more than others. Sometimes people touched her skin, and this somehow made the buzzing both better and worse. Sometimes she opened her eyes, but what she saw didn't seem like it had anything to do with her, so she closed them again. Sometimes she moved, and softness felt good against her humming skin.

Ginny was warm and content, and she heard something. This sound dropped into the pool of her contentment, sending out ripples in all directions. There was a thought here, somewhere in this warm darkness, if she could grasp it. It pushed painfully against her awareness but could not reach her, like a dull needle rubbing the skin over and over, ever increasing the pressure, but never breaking through the surface. Then, like a bubble, the thought burst, taking its sudden stress along with it. The ripples stilled, and Ginny once again relaxed.

Lucius gratefully entered the quiet of his bedchamber at the end of the evening. Unfortunately, in the case of some of his fellow Death Eaters, being united in the Dark Lord's cause did not make their company appreciably more tolerable. The capture of the Weasley girl and several key players for the other side should have produced in Lucius a victorious, rather than irritated mood.

Lucius mulled these thoughts over as he almost automatically went through the motions of removing his dress robes, considering the issue of the girl. He regarded the Weasley family with disgust; despite their bloodline, they were impoverished, Mudblood-loving trash who pumped out as many children as did native Muggle savages. He could feel his lip curling involuntarily. He would gladly strangle any of the pack of them, but he'd be hard-pressed at this point to decide whether he'd like to do that more to the girl than he'd like to fuck her.

He was slipping on a dressing gown when some small sound or movement caught his attention. His awareness shifted to the bed in the dimly lit, far corner of the bedroom, and his hand went automatically to his wand as he advanced towards the bed and muttered a spell under his breath to turn up the lamps.

On her stomach on his bed, and apparently asleep, lay the girl. One part of Lucius noted his lack of surprise that she should be there (Narcissa knew him very well), while the rest of him surveyed her coldly. The girl's hair lay tangled haphazardly across her back and the pillow. Her small breasts were flattened beneath her weight, one arm pulled in with hand next to her sleeping face, which was curled towards the end of the bed, while the other arm extended out above her head. Her legs were lax, showing delicate pink where her pert buttocks sloped down between them.

Narcissa and her meddling, thought Lucius. He was turning away when the girl's eyes opened, and he stopped short. They traveled vaguely around the room before lighting on Lucius, standing at the foot of the bed. She looked at him and opened and closed her mouth silently several times. Then she managed to produce a breathy "ah" or two before falling silent. Her eyes closed, but her hips began to move softly against the bed.

Lucius' irritation flowed into anger, and beyond to fury. With a hiss, he was on the bed behind the girl, on his knees between her spread legs. Throwing his robe to the floor, he leaned over the girl's back and hauled her to her knees against him with one hand buried in the hair at the nape of her neck, and the other arm around her waist. Her eyes remained closed, and she was still and compliant in his grasp. Twisting his fingers more firmly through her hair, he wrenched her head to the side so he could speak into her ear.

"It seems to me I have something you want very badly," he spat out as he pulled the curves of her ass against his swelling erection. "In fact," he continued as her eyes flew open, "I believe I could make you beg for it. Could I not?" With this, he deliberately moved his body away from hers, clutching her hair all the same, and letting out a low chuckle as she began futilely straining her hips back, making little mewling sounds.

"My goodness," he purred in her ear as he once again pulled her firmly against him. "I wonder if Potter knows what a little slut you are? But no matter. If you are willing to put forth the effort, I am willing to give you what you want." Maintaining his grip on her waist, Lucius forced her head down until her arms came out on her own accord to support her. Once the girl was firmly on all fours, Lucius unclasped her hair and none too gently grabbed her hipbones like handles, moving her back against him. She murmured nonsensically and let her weight drop to her forearms as she pushed backwards.

Tightening his grip on her hips and buttocks with one strong hand, Lucius placed the head of his erection right at the entrance of the girl's tight sheath and waited. She was doing her damnedest to move her hips so he'd slip fully inside. Despite feeling a similar compulsion himself, Lucius held her firmly and spoke.

"I'm afraid I'm not sure I am sufficiently impressed with your enthusiasm," he said evenly. He moved the head of his penis slowly in a circular motion around her entrance. "Impress me."

The girl vainly redoubled her efforts to move her hips. She made a breathy exclamation and began babbling meaningless, pleading sounds. Satisfied, Lucius easily thrust himself into her to the hilt without further preamble. Although she was exquisitely tight, an evening of constant stroking by strangers also ensured that she was slick and wet.

Sighing softly at the pressure, Lucius again held himself still. He let his hands slide to his sides, lingering slightly over the curves of her backside, and waited to see how much his words has pierced the girl's fogged mind. If the little bitch wanted to get fucked, she was going to have to work for it.

Without further guidance, the girl pushed herself up on her hands and began thrusting backwards. Each thrust was accompanied by a small moan. Lucius watched her rut against him, her head hanging down, her face hidden by her sweaty hair. Her movements became more enthusiastic, and her moans louder and interspersed with more meaningless sounds.

Despite his vast experience, Lucius also felt himself being overcome by sensation. He was surprised to discover that this mix of attraction and detestation, wanting to both fuck and hurt this girl, was a heady mix with a sum larger than its parts. Pleasure in the pleasure of another, even when based partially in her debasement, was like a piquant spice, adding tang to a dish previously too bland and sweet. An unfamiliar sense of anticipation prickled his senses as he watched the girl's efforts.

The girl was very close. She was dripping sweat and moving her hips against him at a rapid pace. She had ceased making rhythmic noises and was now taking great hitching breaths that she held with tense muscles as she tried to reach completion. Periodically, she would groan out a distressed whimper from between her clenched teeth.

Taking pity on her, Lucius reached around her hip and began stroking her clitoris, beginning to move in and out of her steadily. After a few deft touches, the gasping girl began to climax. In between sobbing breaths, she tried to gasp something out. "Lucius," she finally managed to whisper, then more strongly, "Lucius!"

At the sound of his name, Lucius' control snapped. Shifting her hips, he pushed the girl down on the bed, falling heavily onto her, and began thrusting furiously. Through a haze of lust, he turned his head to see his long hair spread out with hers, and as he felt his own completion, heard the girl dreamily murmuring his name.

Ginny awoke in confusion, with her mind clouded and her muscles sore. She opened her eyes cautiously and peered around an empty, unfamiliar bedchamber. Seeing she was alone, she burrowed further down in the bed, feeling the luxurious sheets slide against her bare skin, and closed her eyes again, trying to collect her thoughts.

Lucius Malfoy. How in Merlin's name had this happened? And yet, how fitting that the man who handed a child a cursed book would also usher her into womanhood on her hands and knees. Ginny bit her lip as her mind shied away from the memories of her wanton behavior. Shame washed over her in a wave, even as the blood spiked hot between her legs, the embarrassment somehow heightening the tension between her thighs and making her almost squirm with an exquisite combination of agony and arousal.

A sudden awareness stilled her. She lay quietly with closed eyes, breathing regularly. A cool voice to the left of the high bed said, "You can stop pretending to be asleep now."

There Lucius stood, an impeccably attired amoral killer old enough to be her father. In an instant of looking at his aristocratic face, Ginny perceived the difference between will and desire and understood that something could be both what you desired and against your will. She felt her nipples peak and the throb between her thighs redouble. "Lucius," she breathed, before she could stop herself.

He stepped closer to the head of the bed and said blandly, "I don't recall giving you leave to use my first name, Miss Weasley," and ran a hand over her breasts beneath the sheets and down her abdomen. "However," he continued, "since we are now such intimate acquaintances, I suppose it is quite permissible, Ginevra." As he said her name, he abruptly pinched her thigh, and she inhaled sharply. She was completely bewildered, lying with a mouth dry as paper, breathing quickly. She tried to open her mouth to speak, to say something, and Lucius' hand flashed out and covered her lips. He brought his face close to hers.

"Ginevra, you ably demonstrated last evening that you are able to communicate what I am interested in without a word," he said softly. "Hush." He gazed steadily into Ginny's eyes until she slowly nodded her head, and then he removed his hand from the lower part of her face and stood once more.

Lucius muttered something and flicked his hand. The bed coverings whisked to the floor, and he surveyed Ginny as she lay frozen. It was disconcerting to be naked in front of him for the first time with all her wits about her, and the fact that he was completely dressed made it doubly distressing. His face remained unreadable as he began to run his hands over her body. A rational part of her mind tried to control her heated reaction, but as his fingers squeezed the plump tops of her thighs and skimmed her breasts, she was his.

Her excitement and pleasure built rapidly, a fire fanned by the shame of it, how she must look to him, red faced and sweating with her hips rolling, and him standing calmly, not a silvery hair out of place, skillfully moving his hands here, then there, then there, observing inscrutably her desperation and desire, and heightening and soothing it with each pinch and stroke.

Teetering on the brink, Ginny whimpered as his hands slowed. One remained lazily petting between her legs, and the other turned her face to him. She closed her eyes, and Lucius asked sharply, "What do you want?" Ginny blinked confusedly.

"I was wrong," he purred in a faux solemn tone. His hand drifted from her face to her breasts, stroking them lightly, slowing the motion of the other hand even further. "I do need you to tell me what you want, Ginevra. It's not quite clear to me." He slowly and firmly pinched the lips of her sex between his fingers, causing her to buck her hips, and then, just as slowly, released them. His fingers continued to prod and torment her as he went on.

"Perhaps you would like for me to stop," he said and made as if to remove his hands from her body. She moaned and managed to choke out a no.

All humor gone from his voice, he continued. "Then what, Ginevra? Look at me and tell me what you want," he growled.

Swallowing, she said hoarsely, "Make me come," hearing her voice from a distance, not believing she was even saying such a thing. For a moment, she and Lucius merely looked at each other in silence. She thought she saw a glint of something in his eyes, but then his hands were moving once more, and she was lost sensation, muttering his name and gasping out her orgasm.