Draco let out a sound of pure, impotent rage. He hissed like a snake, stomping his foot. "You'll regret this, Narcissa! The Dark Lord will hear of this! You're dead to us!"
He didn't even call her Mother.
He spun on his heel and stormed off down the hall, his robes billowing, looking like a petulant child throwing a tantrum.
We stayed like that for a moment longer, wrapped in each other's arms, listening to his angry footsteps fade away.
As soon as he was gone, the tension drained out of Narcissa's body. Her shoulders slumped, and the fierce, arrogant mask she'd worn dropped, revealing the exhaustion and sadness underneath.
She rested her forehead against my chest, letting out a long, shaky sigh. "I'm sorry you had to see that," she whispered, her voice losing its sultry edge, sounding small and tired.
I rubbed her back gently, holding her close. "Don't apologize. You were amazing."
She looked up at me, her blue eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "I... I really have lost him, haven't I? My son."
"He made his choice, Cissa," I said softly, using the nickname for the first time. "He chose a monster over his own mother. That's on him. Not you."
I leaned down and kissed her forehead, then her nose, and finally pressed a soft, comforting kiss to her lips.
"I'm proud of you," I told her, looking her in the eye. "Standing your ground like that? Telling him off? That took guts. You're strong, Narcissa. And you're not alone. You have me. You have the peerage. We're your family now."
She managed a weak, watery smile, sniffling slightly. "Thank you, Harry. I... I think I needed to hear that." She pressed closer, seeking my warmth. "Will you... stay with me tonight? I don't think I want to be alone."
I grinned, scooping her up into my arms bridal style. She squeaked, wrapping her arms around my neck.
"I wouldn't be anywhere else," I promised, carrying her toward her quarters.
....I sat on the edge of the massive four-poster bed, completely naked, my hands resting on the silk sheets behind me for support. My heart was hammering a heavy rhythm against my ribs, the blood pumping south so fast it made my head spin. My cock was already rock hard, throbbing eagerly and pointing straight up at the ceiling, leaking a clear drop of precum in anticipation.
Across the room, standing near the foot of the bed, Narcissa watched me.
The tension in the room was thick, charged with a mix of emotional relief and raw, unfiltered lust. She stood tall and proud, the earlier grief over Draco tucked away and forgotten.
A slow, knowing smile curved her red lips as she held my gaze, her blue eyes darkening with intent. "You're staring, Master," she purred, her voice low and velvety.
"I can't help it," I admitted, my voice rough. "You're breathtaking, Cissa."
Her smile widened, and she reached behind her neck, undoing the clasp of her elegant evening gown. With a slow, fluid shimmy of her shoulders, she let the expensive fabric cascade down her body. It pooled around her ankles in a heap of dark silk, leaving her standing there in nothing but a set of scandalous white lingerie that made my mouth instantly go dry.
The contrast was stunning. The lacy white fabric seemed to make her pale, porcelain complexion glow in the dim light. It was the kind of lingerie that was meant to be seen, meant to tease.
Her bra was a masterpiece of sheer lace and structural engineering, struggling to contain her heavy, voluptuous breasts. The material was completely see-through, offering me a perfect, hazy view of her large, dark pink nipples, which were already stiff and pushing against the delicate mesh. Her matching panties were high-cut, accentuating the wideness of her hips and the long, elegant lines of her legs.
She placed a hand on her hip, cocking it to the side. "Do you like what you see, Master?" she asked, her voice dripping with the need for validation.
I let out a shaky breath, my eyes roving over every inch of her. "Like isn't a strong enough word," I swore, shaking my head. "Narcissa, you are... you are absolute perfection. I'm so fucking glad I met you that day on the bench."
Her expression softened, a genuine warmth breaking through the seductress act for a fleeting moment. "I am too, Harry," she whispered sincerely. "You saved me."
Then, the lust returned to her eyes, darker than before. She reached behind her back, her movements deliberate and teasing. I heard the distinct click of the hooks undoing.
The straps slid down her smooth shoulders. The cups fell away.
Her massive breasts spilled free, bouncing heavily with the release. They were magnificent-full, soft, and heavy, swaying gently with her movements. She didn't shy away, instead, she grinned wickedly and brought her hands up to cup her own weight.
I watched, mesmerized, as she squeezed her breasts together, pushing them up and out. Her thumbs circled her erect nipples, tweaking and pulling at them while she bit her lower lip, moaning softly at her own touch.
"Does my King want to touch them?" she teased, giving them another squeeze that made the soft flesh bulge between her fingers.
My mouth watered. "You know I do."
"You will soon," she laughed, a throaty, dangerous sound, and let her hands trail slowly down her torso. Her fingers skimmed over her flat stomach, tracing the line of her waist before hooking into the sides of her lacy white panties.
She pushed them down slowly, inch by agonizing inch, over her wide hips and down her thighs. She stepped out of them gracefully, kicking them aside to join the dress.
Now she was fully nude, a vision of mature, devastating beauty. My gaze locked onto the space between her thighs. Her pussy was plump and inviting, the lips pink and glistening with her own wetness. Just above her clit was a neatly trimmed patch of pubic hair-platinum blonde, matching the silk on her head perfectly.
"Beautiful," I groaned, my hips bucking involuntarily on the mattress.
Narcissa tossed her hair back over her shoulder, swaying her hips with an exaggerated, hypnotic rhythm as she took a few slow steps toward me. Her breasts swayed with every step, her eyes locked on my hard cock like a predator eyeing a meal.
She stopped right between my spread knees, close enough that I could smell her arousal mixing with her expensive perfume.
"I'm all yours, Harry," she whispered, reaching out to run a manicured nail down my chest.
My throat clicked audibly as I swallowed. I couldn't take my eyes off her. I didn't want to.
She stood between my spread knees, completely, gloriously naked. She was a masterpiece of mature, feminine beauty.
Her eyes were molten now as they raked over my body. I felt her gaze like a physical touch, sliding down my chest, lingering on my abs, and finally resting hungrily on my erection.
"Harry," she murmured, breaking the short silence. She stepped closer, until her thighs bumped against the insides of my knees. "Do you know how much I appreciate this?"
"Appreciate what?" I rasped, my voice roughly two octaves lower than normal. My hands itched to grab her, to pull those wide, birthing hips onto me, but I held back, letting her set the pace.
"Your patience," she whispered, reaching out to thread her fingers through my hair. Her nails scratched lightly against my scalp, sending shivers down my spine. "You could have demanded this from me the moment you saved me. You could have taken me the night I joined your peerage. As your Bishop, as your servant... I would have let you." She paused, her expression softening into something incredibly vulnerable. "But you waited," she continued, her thumb tracing the line of my jaw. "You waited until I was ready. Until I had severed the ties to my past completely."
I leaned into her touch, turning my head slightly to press a kiss into her palm. "I didn't just want your body, Cissa," I told her honestly, looking up into her eyes. "I wanted you. All of you... I wanted you to need me yourself."
A shiver wracked her frame, and her pupils dilated, swallowing the icy blue color. "Oh, I need it, Master," she breathed. "I need it so badly I can barely stand." She pressed her chest forward, bringing those massive, soft breasts right to my face.
I groaned as the warm, heavy flesh smothered me. She pressed them against my cheeks, the skin impossibly soft and fragrant with the scent of expensive perfume and her own natural musk. I turned my face inward, burying my nose in her cleavage, inhaling deeply as I nuzzled against her.
"Mmm, yes," she moaned above me, her fingers tightening in my hair to hold me in place. "Worship me, Harry. Make me forget everything but you."
As I kissed and licked at the soft slopes of her tits, I felt her hand drift down.
Unlike the younger girls-unlike Ginny's eager but fumbling grip, or even Hermione's enthusiastic but inexperienced touch-Narcissa knew exactly what she was doing. Her hand wrapped around my shaft with a confidence that nearly made my eyes roll back in my head. Her palm was soft, but her grip was firm, authoritative.
She didn't hesitate. She didn't explore tentatively. She took ownership.
She started to stroke me, a slow, twisting motion that dragged the loose skin of my shaft over the sensitive head before pulling back down to the base. It was agonizingly good. She knew exactly how much pressure to apply, exactly where the nerves were clustered.
"You're so hard," she whispered, her voice thick with lust as she leaned back slightly to watch her hand work. She kept her breasts pressed against my face, but pulled back just enough so she could look down at me, her eyes heavy-lidded. "So thick. Lucius... he was never like this. He never filled my hand like this."
The mention of her ex-husband's inadequacy was the perfect fuel for the fire burning in my gut. I growled, biting gently into the side of her breast, making her gasp and arch her back.
"Forget him," I muttered against her skin.
"You're right," she panted, her hand speeding up, her thumb swiping over my leaking slit, spreading the precum over the head of my cock. "He's nothing. You're the only man in my life now."
She pumped me faster, her technique flawless. She twisted her wrist at the top of each stroke, stimulating the head, then milked me all the way down to the root. My hips bucked involuntarily, chasing the sensation, slamming my cock into her palm.
"Fuck, Narcissa," I hissed, my hands coming up to grip her waist. "Your hand feels amazing."
"Just my hand?" she teased breathlessly. She stepped closer, spreading her legs so she was straddling my thigh, the heat of her pussy radiating through the air between us. "I have so much more to offer you, Harry."
She released my cock, leaving it bobbing and glistening, away from her warmth for only a second before she pushed me back. I let myself fall onto the mattress, scuttling back until my head hit the pillows.
Narcissa followed me. She crawled onto the bed on her hands and knees, moving over me with her sinful body. Her breasts swayed heavily beneath her, nipples hard and red, begging for attention. Her stomach was smooth, her hips wide and inviting, and as she crawled over my legs, I got a perfect view of her pussy.
It was beautiful. Plump, pink lips nestled in a neat triangle of platinum blonde curls, glistening with moisture. She was soaking wet.
— Narcissa —
Narcissa hovered on her hands and knees over Harry, her gaze locked on the magnificent sight of him sprawled helplessly beneath her. The air in her private quarters was thick with the scent of arousal-musk, expensive perfume, and the undeniable, heady sweetness of two devil's lusts mixing together.
She shifted her weight. Her knees sank into the plush mattress on either side of his hips, straddling him but not yet settling down. She wanted to savor this. She wanted to drink in the way he looked at her.
Harry's eyes were dark, dilated pools of blue that raked over her naked body with a hunger so raw it made her womb clench. He wasn't looking at her like she was a mother, or an aunt, or a professor. He was looking at her like she was the only water in a desert, and he was dying of thirst.
A slow, confident smile curled her red lips. She straightened her spine, sitting back on her heels to display herself proudly for him. She arched her back, thrusting her chest out, knowing exactly how devastating she looked.
Since her rebirth as a Bishop in Harry's peerage, Narcissa had spent hours in front of her mirror, marveling at the changes. The years of stress, the coldness of her marriage to Lucius, the worry lines-they had all been erased. Her skin was creamy and flawless, glowing with an inner vitality she hadn't possessed even in her twenties. Her breasts were fuller, heavier, sitting high and proud on her chest, tipped with nipples that were currently dark pink and pebble-hard from the cool air and her own excitement.
She was perfect now, and she belonged to him.
"Do you like what I'm showing you, Harry?" she purred, her voice a low, sultry vibration in the quiet room. She ran her hands up her own sides, cupping the weight of her breasts and squeezing them together, offering them to his gaze. "Does your new Defense Professor meet your standards?"
Harry let out a ragged groan, his hands gripping the sheets as if he were trying to keep himself from seizing her right then and there. "You have no idea," he rasped. "You're flawless, Narscissa."
His words sent a shiver of pleasure down her spine. She loved the way her name sounded on his tongue-possessive, intimate.
Walking through the halls of Hogwarts these past few weeks had been an exercise in amusement. She saw the way the older male students looked at her when she turned to write on the blackboard. She saw the glazed eyes, the dropped quills, the desperate attempts to hide the tents in their robes. She was the fantasy of half the school-the unattainable, icy, beautiful Professor Black. They dreamed of her at night. They jerked off thinking about her.
But they were boys playing at being men.
Narcissa looked down at Harry, at the thick, throbbing column of flesh standing straight up from his groin, leaking clear fluid from the angry red head. This was a man. This was her King. And he was the only one who would ever get to touch her like this.
The realization made her feel powerful and submissive all at once.
She lowered herself slowly. She didn't aim for penetration. Not yet. She positioned herself so that her wet, swollen pussy hovered directly over his shaft. She could feel the heat radiating from his cock.
"Narcissa," Harry warned, his hips bucking up instinctively, trying to impale himself inside her.
"Ah, ah," she chided gently, reaching down to press a hand against his chest, holding him down. "Patience, Master. We have all night."
