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Title:Leather
Author:![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
themightyflynn
Prompt:: #4 byhuman_veil It's a common perception that Lucius is the one in control. Little do people know, they couldn't be more wrong.
Rating:NC-17
Era:Post-war
Word Count :2620
Summary:The scent, the soft feel of it as it lashes his skin; Lucius loves leather.
Author's Note:Many thanks tosmirkingcat for the beta! And the my prompter. I hope you like what I came up with!
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
A woman’s place is one step behind her husband.
Bowing her head demurely, Narcissa placed a hand softly on the small of Lucius’ back. She could feel the tension in him even through that one simple gesture, the tautness of the muscles giving him away immediately. Not that anyone else who did not know him intimately would pick up on the signs.
“Lucius! Lucius, over here!”
“Narcissa! Look this way!”
“Oi, Malfoy!”
Lights danced before Narcissa’s eyes as dozens of photographer’s flashes went off all at once. She could feel Lucius tensing before her again, but did nothing other than to keep her hand on his back. It was not her place to stand in front of him.
“This way, Mr. Malfoy, Mrs. Malfoy.”
Pushing through the crowd, the Ministry security guards made a clear path for them to follow. Narcissa kept her head down and her hand on Lucius’ back as they moved, using him both as a guide and a shield from the photographers. It was a relief when they stepped through the door the guards had shown them to into a completely empty room.
“Cissa.” Lucius’ arm came up around Narcissa’s shoulders, guiding her into the room before him, protecting her from the probing gazes of the photographers. “Thank you, gentlemen.”
Narcissa heard the tinkling of coins being placed into the security guard’s hands as she entered the room. It was not a very large room, but it served its purpose: two fireplaces stood in the opposite wall, each with an almost overflowing pot of floo powder sitting on the mantle. When the door clicked softly shut, she turned.
“Lucius?”
She knew better than to reach her hand out to him. They were still in public, which meant proper decorum, even if no one could possibly see them. Standing before the doorway, Lucius kept his back straight and held his head high. Azkaban had not been kind to him, but he refused to let go of his dignity in public. Especially during his final trial. Pride in her husband washed through her, but she held herself back. His chest rose as he took a breath, then let it out slowly.It was that simple gesture that told her just how he would need her that night. She smiled.Lucius stepped up to her and placed a hand between her shoulder blades.
“Come, my love.”
Guiding her towards one of the fireplaces, his hand was warm and reassuring. Draco met her as she stepped through into Malfoy Manor. Standing with his hands clasped formally behind his back, Narcissa could easily see the tension in him as well. When she stood aside to allow Lucius to step through behind her, Draco visibly relaxed.
“Mother, Father,” he greeted them quietly. “It is good to see the both of you returning.”
Narcissa didn’t miss the relief in his tone. Smiling, she guided her husband and son towards the informal living room. A good, strong cup of tea was what they all needed, she figured. Placing an order with the house-elf, she settled down onto the lounge next to Lucius. When his arm reached across her shoulders, she smiled again.
“It went well?”
Sipping her tea, Narcissa listened as Lucius and Draco spoke. She was quite happy to stay in her ‘quiet, passive wife’ role as the two of them discussed the trial.
Seven weeks it had taken. The Wizengamot had taken her husband from her seven whole weeks before and had only returned him to her that day after finally deciding that his actions during the end of the war were enough to allow him his freedom. With restrictions, of course, but he was free. Narcissa came back to herself when Draco stood.
“I am meeting Blaise this evening for dinner. He believes that there is a girl I should meet.”
This last was said with a bit of resignation, but Narcissa smiled encouragingly anyway. Draco had had a tough time since the end of the war, but she was sure he would pull through. They all would. They had to.
*~*
A woman’s place is one step behind her husband. Preferably with a whip in hand.
Seven weeks is too long to be separated from one’s spouse. Perhaps especially when one’s spouse was capable of making them feel this… helpless.
“You have done well, my dear.”
Lucius shivered at the sound of Her voice. He could not see Her from his present position. That, of course, was the point.
Standing in the dead centre of their dungeon – now a dungeon in ways other than first conceived – he rested his forehead on the wide pillar in front of him. With his hands bound around the centre of the pillar and his ankles tied to the bottom, he had little choice as to his movements. Made of marble worn smooth over the years of its use, the pillar was part of the original support structure of the Manor. Its cold, circular expanse was all Lucius could see. And he liked it that way.
“So well, in fact, that you may deserve a reward.” Her voice was getting closer, but Lucius could not quite pinpoint exactly where it was coming from. “Do you believe you deserve a reward?”
Lucius knew better than to respond. He wanted to; wanted to rather desperately. But, it had not been a true question. She had not given him permission to speak, and so, he did not. Pressing closer to the pillar, he tried to even out his breathing.
“Do you believe you deserve a reward, my dear?”
Lucius bit his bottom lip. The shivers Her voice sent through him had not subsided and he clenched his bound hands in an attempt to prevent himself from asking – begging – for what he wanted. The touch of leather to his shoulders caused him to gasp.
“Do you believe you deserve a reward, my dear? Tell me.”
There it was, the command to speak that he had been waiting for. The air he had gasped in shuddered out of him.
“I… I believe I deserve whatever You wish to do to me.”
She chuckled, low and throaty, right beside his ear. He did not turn to look at Her. He had not been given permission for that privilege yet.
“Oh, I have missed you, my dear.” The leather moved slowly across Lucius’ shoulders. “You always know just exactly what to say. Tell me, do you ever feel the urge to disobey me? To test your boundaries and see just what you could get away with?”
The feeling of the leather sliding painfully slowly over his skin sent jolts of pleasure through Lucius’ stomach. It had been too long since he had felt the sharp sting of leather on his skin and to be this close, but still so far away… He swallowed audibly.
“Yes.” It was a whisper; rough, harsh. “Yes, I want to push You to the limits. I want to see how far You will allow me to go. I want… I want You to punish me.”
The leather left his skin, causing Lucius to groan at its loss. The urge to turn and see exactly where She stood was almost overwhelming, and his hands clenched behind the pillar once again.
“You wish to be punished. That is the reward that you have asked of me.”
Lucius’ shoulders tensed. He thought he knew what was coming. There was an anticipation to Her voice that excited him more than he could ever say. When the first lash of the cat o’ nine tails cracked across his back, his mind nearly went completely blank with pleasure.
He loved the feel of leather on his skin. The whip, the cat o’ nine tails, the riding crop; even the leather-wrapped handle of the paddle. It was not the pain they caused that turned him on so much, but the feeling of the soft, supple leather itself. And She knew it.
Crack.
Lucius groaned, pressing closer to the pillar. The leather wrapped around the pillar to strike his wrists, the sensation sending tremors through his body.
Crack!
The knotted tips of the leather wrapped down his thighs this time. His hips jerked automatically, thrusting against the cold marble of the pillar.
CRACK!
Lucius’ mouth opened on a silent scream. He was barely breathing at this point. This time, it had been just the knots at the end of the tails that hit him, all centred on the small of his back and his arse cheeks. His hips thrust uselessly against the pillar as pleasure spread through him.
The last whip was a full-bodied lash across his entire back. He could feel the leather wrapping around his ribs. It felt almost as though it was capable of reaching every bump, every tiny little groove of his body. He let out a whimper as his control teetered on the edge. The pillar was wet in front of him as he thrust against it.
“I have not given you permission to come, my dear.”
Lucius nodded his head frantically. If there was one hard and fast rule they had in this dungeon, it was this: no orgasms until She permits it. Taking a deep breath, he forced his thoughts towards mundane things. Speaking to Shacklebolt in the Ministry… Tending to his gardens and animals in the Manor grounds… Placing weekly orders with the house-elves… Lucius took a steady breath, held it for a few seconds, then released it.
“Very good, my dear. You have done well.” The praise sent a shiver down Lucius’ spine. “I believe I will fuck you now.”
The words nearly undid all Lucius’ work on controlling himself again. This was a rare treat indeed. She only ever brought the cock out when She believed that he truly deserved rewarding. Her footsteps faded back towards the cupboard. Closing his eyes tight, Lucius focussed on regaining proper control over himself. He would be of no use to either one of them if he lost control within a few seconds of her touching him.
“Tell me, how long has it been, my dear?”
Breathing slowly and steadily, Lucius responded quietly, “Three months, two weeks and five days.”
He had been placed on house arrest after the end of the war, leaving him with more spare time around the house than he had ever had before. With the amount of cases the Ministry had had to deal with, it had taken them nearly a full year before they would even consider hearing Lucius’ case. It had been one of the most enlightening and fulfilling years of his life. His insides trembled with anticipation when She chuckled.
“What, no hours and minutes as well?”
He probably could have told her, given a few minutes to properly clear his head. She did not allow him that, though. Pressing close, her hands gripped his hips.
“I have missed you so, my dear.” Her lips brushed the shell of his ear as She spoke. “Your scent… your touch… the taste of you in my mouth after you lose control…”
Lucius whimpered. Her hands were sliding over his thighs. Her fingers traced the lash marks on one thigh, while the other slid ever-so-slowly around the front of his hip.
“The feel of your thick, hard cock inside me, pulsing as you cry out your release…”
Lucius’ mouth fell open as her fingers wrapped around his erection. Leather gloves; She was wearing leather gloves. How he had missed it, he had no idea. The sensation of having it wrapped around such an intimate area of himself drove his hips forward into Her hand.
“I have missed every inch of you, my dear.”
The touch of the tip of Her wand to his skin warned Lucius of what to expect. The preparation charms were muttered in his ear before She pressed close to him.
“Have you missed me?”
Yes, he wanted to scream. Desperately. Seven whole weeks he had spent in Azkaban without Her. Seven. Weeks. It has been torturous.
“Have you craved my touch?”
He had not touched himself in those seven weeks. The Dementors may have left the place, but it did not feel as though they had. Cold and damp, the place reeked of the sorrows of thousands of men and women. It was not conducive to a good and proper wank.
“Tell me how much you wanted me.”
Before Lucius could obey the command, he felt the touch of the dildo spreading his cheeks. Arching his back, he moved so that it was a slightly better angle.
“I needed You every day,” he gasped. “Every night.”
“Yes, my dear.” Her hands moved to steady his hips, holding him still as She moved. “Tell me.”
The burn as She breached him had Lucius gasping. It had been too long since She had touched him so intimately. His head spun as his body burned.
“I crave You… Your touch… Your mercy… Your–” Lucius had to pause as the sting got to be too much. She stilled immediately, Her hands moving to massage his sides.
“Take your time, my dear. We have all night.”
Lucius panted. Bound to the pillar as he was, it was impossible for him to see Her face. It was also difficult to move. There was only so far one could bend when his hands were tied together behind a slab of marble. Breathing steadily, he flexed around the dildo inside him.
“I need You inside me.”
She complied immediately. Lucius’ head continued to swirl as pleasure rocked through him, mixing with the pain of being entered for the first time in months. As suspected, it was difficult to manoeuvre with the pillar pressing into him, but they managed it. When She got into Her rhythm, hitting his prostate with every thrust, Lucius found he did not care that there was a huge slab of marble pressing into his face.
“Tell me, my dear. Speak.”
“O-ohh… Fuck… I-I need You… only You…”
“Yes, my dear, yes…”
He clenched, trying to drag Her into him further. His neglected cock bobbed against his stomach, dripping steadily. He was certain he would not need Her touch this time, however. Arching into Her, he tried to urge Her on.
“I – Please,” he gasped.
“Please?”
“Please…”
He had lost control over his voice. Heat swirled in the small of his back, building the urge to come rapidly. Swallowing, he tried to gain some control back.
“Let go, my dear. Tell me.”
He let out a high-pitched whimper. “May I come?”
His voice was nearly as high-pitched as the whimper had been. The pressure inside was too much; he was too far gone. He stopped breathing altogether when Her hand, still encased in the leather glove, wrapped around his cock.
“Yes.”
She stroked him once, twice, then… He almost blacked out. The sensation of relief and release that flooded him was so strong, he could barely abide it. His hips thrust into her fist, elongating his pleasure seemingly endlessly. He collapsed against the pillar when his orgasm finally released him.
“Well done, my dear.”
She uttered the charms to release him from his binds. She did not allow him to collapse to the floor. Casting a quiet charm, She caught him and lowered them both to the floor gently. Releasing his hands from their binds properly, She wrapped Her arms around his torso.
“Very well done.”
Her fingers carded through his hair, brushing the sweaty strands from his eyes. Blinking, he tried to focus on Her, but failed. His eyes closed as he caught a rather blurry smile from Her.
“Sleep, my dear. You’ll need your full strength for what else I have planned.”
Author:
themightyflynnPrompt:: #4 by
human_veil It's a common perception that Lucius is the one in control. Little do people know, they couldn't be more wrong.Rating:NC-17
Era:Post-war
Word Count :2620
Summary:The scent, the soft feel of it as it lashes his skin; Lucius loves leather.
Author's Note:Many thanks to
smirkingcat for the beta! And the my prompter. I hope you like what I came up with!Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
A woman’s place is one step behind her husband.
Bowing her head demurely, Narcissa placed a hand softly on the small of Lucius’ back. She could feel the tension in him even through that one simple gesture, the tautness of the muscles giving him away immediately. Not that anyone else who did not know him intimately would pick up on the signs.
“Lucius! Lucius, over here!”
“Narcissa! Look this way!”
“Oi, Malfoy!”
Lights danced before Narcissa’s eyes as dozens of photographer’s flashes went off all at once. She could feel Lucius tensing before her again, but did nothing other than to keep her hand on his back. It was not her place to stand in front of him.
“This way, Mr. Malfoy, Mrs. Malfoy.”
Pushing through the crowd, the Ministry security guards made a clear path for them to follow. Narcissa kept her head down and her hand on Lucius’ back as they moved, using him both as a guide and a shield from the photographers. It was a relief when they stepped through the door the guards had shown them to into a completely empty room.
“Cissa.” Lucius’ arm came up around Narcissa’s shoulders, guiding her into the room before him, protecting her from the probing gazes of the photographers. “Thank you, gentlemen.”
Narcissa heard the tinkling of coins being placed into the security guard’s hands as she entered the room. It was not a very large room, but it served its purpose: two fireplaces stood in the opposite wall, each with an almost overflowing pot of floo powder sitting on the mantle. When the door clicked softly shut, she turned.
“Lucius?”
She knew better than to reach her hand out to him. They were still in public, which meant proper decorum, even if no one could possibly see them. Standing before the doorway, Lucius kept his back straight and held his head high. Azkaban had not been kind to him, but he refused to let go of his dignity in public. Especially during his final trial. Pride in her husband washed through her, but she held herself back. His chest rose as he took a breath, then let it out slowly.It was that simple gesture that told her just how he would need her that night. She smiled.Lucius stepped up to her and placed a hand between her shoulder blades.
“Come, my love.”
Guiding her towards one of the fireplaces, his hand was warm and reassuring. Draco met her as she stepped through into Malfoy Manor. Standing with his hands clasped formally behind his back, Narcissa could easily see the tension in him as well. When she stood aside to allow Lucius to step through behind her, Draco visibly relaxed.
“Mother, Father,” he greeted them quietly. “It is good to see the both of you returning.”
Narcissa didn’t miss the relief in his tone. Smiling, she guided her husband and son towards the informal living room. A good, strong cup of tea was what they all needed, she figured. Placing an order with the house-elf, she settled down onto the lounge next to Lucius. When his arm reached across her shoulders, she smiled again.
“It went well?”
Sipping her tea, Narcissa listened as Lucius and Draco spoke. She was quite happy to stay in her ‘quiet, passive wife’ role as the two of them discussed the trial.
Seven weeks it had taken. The Wizengamot had taken her husband from her seven whole weeks before and had only returned him to her that day after finally deciding that his actions during the end of the war were enough to allow him his freedom. With restrictions, of course, but he was free. Narcissa came back to herself when Draco stood.
“I am meeting Blaise this evening for dinner. He believes that there is a girl I should meet.”
This last was said with a bit of resignation, but Narcissa smiled encouragingly anyway. Draco had had a tough time since the end of the war, but she was sure he would pull through. They all would. They had to.
A woman’s place is one step behind her husband. Preferably with a whip in hand.
Seven weeks is too long to be separated from one’s spouse. Perhaps especially when one’s spouse was capable of making them feel this… helpless.
“You have done well, my dear.”
Lucius shivered at the sound of Her voice. He could not see Her from his present position. That, of course, was the point.
Standing in the dead centre of their dungeon – now a dungeon in ways other than first conceived – he rested his forehead on the wide pillar in front of him. With his hands bound around the centre of the pillar and his ankles tied to the bottom, he had little choice as to his movements. Made of marble worn smooth over the years of its use, the pillar was part of the original support structure of the Manor. Its cold, circular expanse was all Lucius could see. And he liked it that way.
“So well, in fact, that you may deserve a reward.” Her voice was getting closer, but Lucius could not quite pinpoint exactly where it was coming from. “Do you believe you deserve a reward?”
Lucius knew better than to respond. He wanted to; wanted to rather desperately. But, it had not been a true question. She had not given him permission to speak, and so, he did not. Pressing closer to the pillar, he tried to even out his breathing.
“Do you believe you deserve a reward, my dear?”
Lucius bit his bottom lip. The shivers Her voice sent through him had not subsided and he clenched his bound hands in an attempt to prevent himself from asking – begging – for what he wanted. The touch of leather to his shoulders caused him to gasp.
“Do you believe you deserve a reward, my dear? Tell me.”
There it was, the command to speak that he had been waiting for. The air he had gasped in shuddered out of him.
“I… I believe I deserve whatever You wish to do to me.”
She chuckled, low and throaty, right beside his ear. He did not turn to look at Her. He had not been given permission for that privilege yet.
“Oh, I have missed you, my dear.” The leather moved slowly across Lucius’ shoulders. “You always know just exactly what to say. Tell me, do you ever feel the urge to disobey me? To test your boundaries and see just what you could get away with?”
The feeling of the leather sliding painfully slowly over his skin sent jolts of pleasure through Lucius’ stomach. It had been too long since he had felt the sharp sting of leather on his skin and to be this close, but still so far away… He swallowed audibly.
“Yes.” It was a whisper; rough, harsh. “Yes, I want to push You to the limits. I want to see how far You will allow me to go. I want… I want You to punish me.”
The leather left his skin, causing Lucius to groan at its loss. The urge to turn and see exactly where She stood was almost overwhelming, and his hands clenched behind the pillar once again.
“You wish to be punished. That is the reward that you have asked of me.”
Lucius’ shoulders tensed. He thought he knew what was coming. There was an anticipation to Her voice that excited him more than he could ever say. When the first lash of the cat o’ nine tails cracked across his back, his mind nearly went completely blank with pleasure.
He loved the feel of leather on his skin. The whip, the cat o’ nine tails, the riding crop; even the leather-wrapped handle of the paddle. It was not the pain they caused that turned him on so much, but the feeling of the soft, supple leather itself. And She knew it.
Crack.
Lucius groaned, pressing closer to the pillar. The leather wrapped around the pillar to strike his wrists, the sensation sending tremors through his body.
Crack!
The knotted tips of the leather wrapped down his thighs this time. His hips jerked automatically, thrusting against the cold marble of the pillar.
CRACK!
Lucius’ mouth opened on a silent scream. He was barely breathing at this point. This time, it had been just the knots at the end of the tails that hit him, all centred on the small of his back and his arse cheeks. His hips thrust uselessly against the pillar as pleasure spread through him.
The last whip was a full-bodied lash across his entire back. He could feel the leather wrapping around his ribs. It felt almost as though it was capable of reaching every bump, every tiny little groove of his body. He let out a whimper as his control teetered on the edge. The pillar was wet in front of him as he thrust against it.
“I have not given you permission to come, my dear.”
Lucius nodded his head frantically. If there was one hard and fast rule they had in this dungeon, it was this: no orgasms until She permits it. Taking a deep breath, he forced his thoughts towards mundane things. Speaking to Shacklebolt in the Ministry… Tending to his gardens and animals in the Manor grounds… Placing weekly orders with the house-elves… Lucius took a steady breath, held it for a few seconds, then released it.
“Very good, my dear. You have done well.” The praise sent a shiver down Lucius’ spine. “I believe I will fuck you now.”
The words nearly undid all Lucius’ work on controlling himself again. This was a rare treat indeed. She only ever brought the cock out when She believed that he truly deserved rewarding. Her footsteps faded back towards the cupboard. Closing his eyes tight, Lucius focussed on regaining proper control over himself. He would be of no use to either one of them if he lost control within a few seconds of her touching him.
“Tell me, how long has it been, my dear?”
Breathing slowly and steadily, Lucius responded quietly, “Three months, two weeks and five days.”
He had been placed on house arrest after the end of the war, leaving him with more spare time around the house than he had ever had before. With the amount of cases the Ministry had had to deal with, it had taken them nearly a full year before they would even consider hearing Lucius’ case. It had been one of the most enlightening and fulfilling years of his life. His insides trembled with anticipation when She chuckled.
“What, no hours and minutes as well?”
He probably could have told her, given a few minutes to properly clear his head. She did not allow him that, though. Pressing close, her hands gripped his hips.
“I have missed you so, my dear.” Her lips brushed the shell of his ear as She spoke. “Your scent… your touch… the taste of you in my mouth after you lose control…”
Lucius whimpered. Her hands were sliding over his thighs. Her fingers traced the lash marks on one thigh, while the other slid ever-so-slowly around the front of his hip.
“The feel of your thick, hard cock inside me, pulsing as you cry out your release…”
Lucius’ mouth fell open as her fingers wrapped around his erection. Leather gloves; She was wearing leather gloves. How he had missed it, he had no idea. The sensation of having it wrapped around such an intimate area of himself drove his hips forward into Her hand.
“I have missed every inch of you, my dear.”
The touch of the tip of Her wand to his skin warned Lucius of what to expect. The preparation charms were muttered in his ear before She pressed close to him.
“Have you missed me?”
Yes, he wanted to scream. Desperately. Seven whole weeks he had spent in Azkaban without Her. Seven. Weeks. It has been torturous.
“Have you craved my touch?”
He had not touched himself in those seven weeks. The Dementors may have left the place, but it did not feel as though they had. Cold and damp, the place reeked of the sorrows of thousands of men and women. It was not conducive to a good and proper wank.
“Tell me how much you wanted me.”
Before Lucius could obey the command, he felt the touch of the dildo spreading his cheeks. Arching his back, he moved so that it was a slightly better angle.
“I needed You every day,” he gasped. “Every night.”
“Yes, my dear.” Her hands moved to steady his hips, holding him still as She moved. “Tell me.”
The burn as She breached him had Lucius gasping. It had been too long since She had touched him so intimately. His head spun as his body burned.
“I crave You… Your touch… Your mercy… Your–” Lucius had to pause as the sting got to be too much. She stilled immediately, Her hands moving to massage his sides.
“Take your time, my dear. We have all night.”
Lucius panted. Bound to the pillar as he was, it was impossible for him to see Her face. It was also difficult to move. There was only so far one could bend when his hands were tied together behind a slab of marble. Breathing steadily, he flexed around the dildo inside him.
“I need You inside me.”
She complied immediately. Lucius’ head continued to swirl as pleasure rocked through him, mixing with the pain of being entered for the first time in months. As suspected, it was difficult to manoeuvre with the pillar pressing into him, but they managed it. When She got into Her rhythm, hitting his prostate with every thrust, Lucius found he did not care that there was a huge slab of marble pressing into his face.
“Tell me, my dear. Speak.”
“O-ohh… Fuck… I-I need You… only You…”
“Yes, my dear, yes…”
He clenched, trying to drag Her into him further. His neglected cock bobbed against his stomach, dripping steadily. He was certain he would not need Her touch this time, however. Arching into Her, he tried to urge Her on.
“I – Please,” he gasped.
“Please?”
“Please…”
He had lost control over his voice. Heat swirled in the small of his back, building the urge to come rapidly. Swallowing, he tried to gain some control back.
“Let go, my dear. Tell me.”
He let out a high-pitched whimper. “May I come?”
His voice was nearly as high-pitched as the whimper had been. The pressure inside was too much; he was too far gone. He stopped breathing altogether when Her hand, still encased in the leather glove, wrapped around his cock.
“Yes.”
She stroked him once, twice, then… He almost blacked out. The sensation of relief and release that flooded him was so strong, he could barely abide it. His hips thrust into her fist, elongating his pleasure seemingly endlessly. He collapsed against the pillar when his orgasm finally released him.
“Well done, my dear.”
She uttered the charms to release him from his binds. She did not allow him to collapse to the floor. Casting a quiet charm, She caught him and lowered them both to the floor gently. Releasing his hands from their binds properly, She wrapped Her arms around his torso.
“Very well done.”
Her fingers carded through his hair, brushing the sweaty strands from his eyes. Blinking, he tried to focus on Her, but failed. His eyes closed as he caught a rather blurry smile from Her.
“Sleep, my dear. You’ll need your full strength for what else I have planned.”
