Bent, But Not Broken

The Bedroom

*Content Warning: this section contains explicit adult content and language and is much filthier than previous chapters. There are mentions of marking, c*m, unprotected sex and roughness, and themes of kinkiness and degradation are overwhelmingly prevalent throughout. Please do not continue if any of these things might make you uncomfortable!

* * *

Lucius Malfoy silently leads you out of the drawing room and up the set of grand stairs in the foyer, through a long, shadowy corridor, and to a pair of dark, foreboding double doors at its end.

At the turn of a knob, the doors unlatch and open slowly inward, a backdraft of cool air flowing from the dark, silent room as he quietly conjures flames in its fireplace; your eyes wander to each corner of the magnificent room as the dim light spreads to its borders.

A cold, howling wind whips around the windows at the far wall, tiny raindrops carried in its violent gusts, and you listen there, in the comfort of Malfoy's lavish bedroom, as it drones on in the dark dreariness outside.

It is all faultlessly elegant, his bedroom; impeccably well appointed and lavishly decorated, the firelight now emboldening the dark reddish tones of a great Persian rug sprawled across the floor. Above the black marbled fireplace hangs a large, round brass-framed mirror flanked by myriad portraits entrapped within scrolled, golden frames; even the chandelier overhead is encircled by intricate, high-relief plasterwork of floral motifs, every last flourish of which exceptional.

Upon the hearth sit two ornately carved wooden armchairs with dark patterned brocade upholstery; in between them, a little brass mirrored bar cart upon which sit neatly arranged decanters filled with different varietals of rich, indulgent cognacs and brandies, and a few exquisite goblets, the cut crystal of which glittering softly in the blinking firelight.

Beyond the fireplace, Malfoy's bed, in its splendor; tall, carved posts at each of its four corners, a large, ornate wooden headboard, lush off-white sheets tucked neatly beneath a silken duvet. Upon a small table at its side, a book bound in black leather, a heavy, marbled ashtray, and a little silver cigar case and matchbook with the initials LM printed upon its cover, all neatly arranged, nothing out of place.

You wander shyly now over to a great armoire, which stands opposite the fireplace; brushing your fingers curiously along the patterns carved into its doors, you notice at its base a pair of black velvet loafers, their sheen brilliant in the light of the fire.

Approaching the windows now, you pull a long-stemmed flower from the little chinoiserie atop the sideboard there, and, holding it to your nose, walk back to the foot of the bed where Lucius stands, watching you with a secret awe he would not care to admit to.

Peering at him over the cluster of delicate petals for a moment, and smirking mischievously, you drop your hand to the bed, brush it along the footboard. Looking over your shoulder, you walk slowly toward the opposite side of the bed, letting him admire the way the sheer, lacy fabric of your high cut thong and garter belt frame your ass perfectly; after dragging your hand slowly up the bedpost, you pivot around it, climbing onto the edge of the bed. You lock your eyes into his, discard the flower upon the silken duvet.

Slinking across the bed toward Malfoy, you sit up on your knees at its edge, kissing the tip of his nose impishly, then his lips; working your mouth around his jawline and neck, you move downward now and linger at the little hollow at the base of his throat, letting out a low hum as your lips bury themselves into the little notch in between his collarbones.

You feel impassioned by these moments of intimacy, trying to decipher the poetic marriage of scent occurring between the distinctive, lingering notes of his heady cigar and the timeless ease of his cologne, which emanates with warmth over top his pulse points; a sophisticated alchemy of black pepper and woody, herbal notes highlighted with subtle botanicals, dark and wild yet undercut with surprising sensuality and warmth.