It really was her own fault.
Blaise had been quite content to spend the wedding and following reception lurking around the edges of the crowd, observing the guests with the amused curiosity that kept him entertained at events such as this. He disappeared into the shadows and saw far more than any realized. It was his hobby, after all, and had been since he was a child. Collecting secrets, learning weaknesses, studying strengths.
With a general sweeping glance at the crowd, he could identify enemies, friends, lovers, those who were running, those who were seeking, and those who were simply wasting away. He’d been staring at his mum, the overripe bride, unable to prevent his upper lip from curling as he watched her fawning all over the Mudblood she’d decided to make Husband Number Ten, when he’d felt someone move beside him.
"Do you plan to throw a tantrum regarding your mother’s choice of husband or simply stand and sulk like a spoiled young child? Why don’t you run along and play with the other boys, Blaise, and let your mother enjoy her party without your sullenness."
With those words, she had sealed her fate. Before he’d had the opportunity to reply, the aloof blonde was smirking at him and walking away. No longer interested in silently mocking the guests of his mother’s wedding, Blaise had begun to follow the widow Malfoy.
Narcissa Malfoy was a very attractive woman despite being nearly fifty. When he’d been younger, he’d thought her one of the most beautiful he’d ever seen, in fact. Icy blonde hair, cold blue eyes, tall and slender, he had been fascinated by the graceful way she moved and the biting sting to her words. There were few women who frightened his mother, and Narcissa Malfoy was at the top of the list, so she‘d intrigued him from the time he was able to notice her subtle power over those around her. If Draco had inherited his mother’s usual air of quiet control instead of his father’s persistent bent toward obnoxious whining, Blaise had little doubt his former playmate would still be alive today.
She was one he’d studied before, of course. The Malfoys had been one of the only families whose invitations his mother never refused so he had been forced to endure the company of their brat on many occasions. From the time he was nine, he had found it far more interesting to ignore Draco’s constant attention-seeking prattling and focus on the elder Malfoys.
It was that prior analysis that made this all the more entertaining. In the end, she’d have only herself to blame. After all, she’d thrown down the gauntlet. "Spoiled young child, am I?" he muttered darkly, his gaze never leaving her as she coolly maneuvered her way amongst those she considered beneath her. He was twenty-two years old, older than her son would be had he survived the war, and no one had ever dared to accuse him of being some spoiled child even when he was a spoiled child.
She was talking to Hyacinth Parkinson, her nose in the air and her lips curved into a slight sneer as she conversed with the woman whose daughter had married Hero Potter himself, when Blaise decided it was time to make his first move. It was all a game, after all. One at which he had proven himself exceptional on many an occasion. He waited until Parkinson was twittering to one of his new stepfather’s Muggle relations before he stepped closer.
He was eager to begin the game. However, he knew that this would require a delicate touch if he wished to succeed. She was far from unintelligent and likely to see a blatant attempt from a kilometer away so he had been developing his plan since she’d walked away from him with her parting insult. Carefully analyzing all the information he could recall about her, he only made a move when he was confident that it would be successful.
Blaise deliberately moved his lean body against her back as he reached for the ladle in the punch, just enough for her to feel his natural body heat. "Excuse me, Mrs. Malfoy," he apologized smoothly, feeling her stiffen as he pressed closer. "I’m afraid there isn’t proper access to the punch bowl. I must inform Mother so she doesn’t hire the same caterers for her next wedding."
"Perhaps her next victim will not require Muggle accommodations."
Arching a dark brow, he glanced at her, unsurprised to see her coolly surveying the room and acting as if she did not have a young man pressed intimately against her backside. "Oh, I don’t know," he drawled as he moved his mouth closer to her ear as if to confide a secret. His voice was naturally deep and quiet so it gave him the perfect excuse to move closer. Ghosting his free hand along her arm and down her ribs, he admired her simple but elegant dress. "There are some advantages to not being allowed to wear robes."
She looked at him then, her lips quirking into a half-smirk that he’d seen often during his time at Hogwarts, her lips more full than Draco’s had been. "Dear boy, children shouldn’t play grown up games. They might end up over their heads and we wouldn’t want that, would we?"
"I don’t see any children here, Mrs. Malfoy," he replied lowly, moving his hips forward just enough to rub against her arse. Keeping his eyes on her, he parted his lips, his tongue slowly moving along her bare shoulder. "Silly me. I spilled a drop of my punch."
Before she had a chance to reply, he turned and walked away from the table with a smug smile. When he had the opportunity, he adjusted his trousers, scanning the room to find his mother. It certainly wouldn’t do for her to discover his little game before he’d won. He rather expected her to notice him playing his favorite game with one of her friends; she tended only to attend to his actions when he was doing something that might jeopardize her reputation - as if marrying a Muggleborn weren’t more damaging than anything he could manage.
Blaise leaned against the window nearest the balcony, giving every impression of boredom and disinterest. He could feel her eyes on him, this time, and knew it wouldn’t be long before he could make his next move. Narcissa Malfoy might be the epitome of an Ice Queen, but she was still a woman. A woman whose husband had been gone for seven years. There was not even the slightest gossip regarding her becoming involved with another man--or woman--which either meant she’d remained faithful to the man stupid enough to get caught by the Ministry or she was so discreet that even the most knowledgeable of gossips hadn’t the slightest clue with whom she was sharing her bed. Watching her now, he rather believed it was the former.
Catching her gaze across the room, he gave her a smirk of his own before raising his wine glass in silent tribute. He slowly ran his tongue along the rim of his wine glass before sliding his tongue down to lap at the wine, his eyes not leaving hers as he silently challenged her. Dismissing her with a casual nod of his head, he looked out the window, creating an aura of nonchalance that he knew would annoy her. Narcissa Malfoy was not the type of woman to tolerate rejection, especially not by one she had called a child. His trap was set and now he had only to wait for her to fall neatly into it.
They were playing with one another, a dangerous game of cat and mouse, and there were times as they circled their playing field that he wasn’t quite certain if he was still the cat. As he moved amongst the guests, he was the perfect dutiful son. Charming, flirtatious, witty when necessary, laughing at them all as he pandered to their egos and winked and expounded on his mother’s virtues, proving himself, once again, an excellent liar. Whenever he felt her gaze on him, ice cold on heated skin, he smiled and laughed, recalling how even Draco had said his laugh made him think of sex, touching casually, letting his tongue linger on his full bottom lip and his shirt pull against the slender build beneath the expensive material.
When he eventually found himself back at the doors to the balcony, his gaze settled on her. He smiled as she ignored him, noting the way she reacted once he was staring at her, fully aware that she knew he was watching. He laughed softly when she finally glanced at him, and simply looked at her for a moment before turning and stepping through the doors outside into the sticky evening heat. He hated to sweat while dressed, hated feeling it gather along his shoulderblades and drip down his dark skin to pool in the small of his back, causing his shirts to cling and become damp. The air was still, the half-moon barely casting any light, and he could hear the sound of the nearby waves crashing along the beach.
"Some people may find insolence and arrogance attractive, but I have always found both traits to be rather uncouth and common."
Turning to lazily look over his shoulder, his gaze moved from her feet along the length of her legs past her hips to linger on her breasts before finally meeting her gaze. "Yet here you are, Mrs. Malfoy," he observed dryly, pushing back from the rail to face her. "Would you like to know what I think?"
"Dear boy, what makes you think I care at all what you think?" she asked with a light laugh, never losing the cool aloofness that had captivated him from the time he was fourteen.
"I think," he continued as if she’d not spoken, walking until he had her trapped against the wall, "that beneath this fancy dress and elegant hair, you’re nothing more than a common whore."
A sharp inhalation of breath followed his coarse words. He caught her wrist when she raised her hand to slap him, grinning as she glared at him. "You filthy boy," she hissed, annoying him as she still managed to remain reserved despite the passion he’d glimpsed during that brief moment.
"Oh, yes, I am that, Mrs. Malfoy," he agreed readily, pinning both her arms to the wall as his head lowered. He bit her bottom lip, teasing her with a touch of his tongue and the scrape of his teeth. Moving his leg between hers, he rubbed his thigh against her intimately, taking advantage of her outraged gasp. He kissed her hard, then released her hands, moaning when he felt the sting of her fingernails against his cheek and shoulder.
"You little bastard," she snarled when he finally released her mouth. Her lips were swollen, her hair falling from its elegant knot, her chest heaving as she breathed raggedly, and her nipples hard against the thin material of her dress.
"Actually, my parents were married for over a year before Mum had me." Moving his hand along the curve of her breast, Blaise smiled. "You liked it, didn’t you, Mrs. Malfoy? I can’t believe I was wrong, but I’m adult enough to admit the rare occasions when it happens. Not a gentle seduction for you at all. You like it rough."
"If you don’t release me, I’ll scream," she threatened huskily, her eyes fluttering as his hand squeezed her breast.
"You’ll be screaming, love, count on that," he promised before biting her neck, pushing her harder against the wall as his hands began to tug and rip her dress. He hesitated a moment, giving her time to object, groaning against her pale skin when he felt her hands grip his shoulders as her body moved against him. Licking his way down her collarbone, he laved her nipple with his tongue, feeling the lace of her brassiere rough against his tongue. A quick tug ripped the material, her gasp soon followed by a whimper low in her throat as he sucked her nipple.
She was far more responsive than he’d have imagined, his cock hardening with each gasp and moan she tried to conceal from him. Kneeling before her, he looked up, smiling wickedly as his fingers dragged her skirt higher and higher. He saw the stockings beneath the dark blue silk and licked his lips. "Beautiful whore," he complimented before nibbling her upper thigh, tonguing her through the stocking as his hands slid behind her, gripping her arse to pull her forward.
Inhaling the scent of her, he nuzzled her through her knickers, teasing her with swipes of his tongue against the damp cloth. She was wet, that much evident from the smell of sex and need; her fingers gripped his short hair as she tried to pull him against her. He gripped her thighs, urging her legs apart, listening to the party happening right inside as his forefinger slid inside her knickers, running up and down the length of the material between her legs, lightly touching her without pressing down.
"Only children tease, Blaise. I thought you claimed to be an adult."
He smiled against her abdomen, gathering the waist of her knickers in his teeth, pulling them down to bare a pretty cunt topped with tidy blonde curls. Pushing them to her knees, he quit playing, running his tongue from her arse to clit, moaning as he tasted her on his tongue. He caressed her arse before squeezing, pulling her forward against his mouth. He ignored the laughter and music from inside, listening instead to just her as he licked, sucked, and nibbled.
She was gasping now, unable to maintain that icy superiority as his tongue thrust into her tasty cunt. He nuzzled her clit with his sharp nose and fucked her with his tongue, his thumb tracing her arsehole before pressing against her. That earned a shudder from her along with a moan. Chuckling against her, he flicked his tongue against her clit, moving the hand on her thigh higher until he was teasing her wet cunt. He slid two fingers into her as his thumb continued pushing inside her tight arse.
Sucking her clit hard, he added a third finger, looking up to watch her head fall back against the wall, her breasts spilling from her ripped brassiere, pale face flushed with desire. She came with a low cry ripped from her throat, her body trembling as he kept licking and stroking. Only when she was panting did he pull away, not giving her time to protest before he was bending her over the side of the balcony, her breasts hanging free, hands gripping the metal rail. He ripped her knickers off her, shoving them into his pocket before he unfastened his trousers, pushing them and his shorts down just enough to free his cock and thrust into her.
"Oh fuck," he hissed as tight, wet heat enveloped him. Pulling out until just the head of his cock was inside her, he shoved forward hard, sending her against the rail. One hand gripped her hip tightly as his other tangled in her hair, now completely fallen from its upswept style to spill down her shoulders and back. He pulled her up and nibbled her neck, marking her with open, sucking kisses as he fucked her with deep thrusts that had his balls slapping against her each time.
As she began to move back against him, meeting his thrusts, his hand left her hip, the impression of his fingers lingering on her skin and already beginning to bruise, his fingers now wrapping around her breast and pulling, squeezing, and caressing her. Her back rubbed against his chest causing his shirt to stick to his sweaty skin. The party grew louder as people kept drinking, the sound of breaking glass causing everyone to quiet for a moment. His breath caught as she tightened around him when silence fell.
He pulled out of her gradually before sliding back in just as slowly, gathering the material of her dress in his hand to shove over her waist, his thumb drifting down to her clit, rubbing small circles as the room behind them remained quiet. "Do you think anyone knows we’re out here?" he panted in her ear, drawing his hips back before thrusting forward. "Think they’re watching you get fucked by me? You falling apart on my cock, whimpering and moaning as you fuck your son’s best friend. Think they see my dark hand on your pale skin and get aroused? Think of your body lying against mine, them wanking and whining as you ride me, feel their hot come all over your body as you come like the dirty whore you are, Mrs. Malfoy."
Music started playing again behind them as he released her hair to push her back down against the rail, gripping her hips again to pull her onto his cock. She was cursing him under her breath, calling him a bastard and a dirty little fuck and dear boy every time he managed to hit a certain spot inside her. When he felt her tighten around him, his thumb moved to her clit again, rubbing hard, feeling her shudder and grip him as she came.
When she was panting and barely standing, he pulled his erection from her, stroking it with his hand, fingers wrapped around wet flesh as he pushed her to the ground, making her kneel before him. "Open up, Mrs. Malfoy," he said with an amused smile that quickly faded as she smirked up at him and swallowed his cock from head to base. He bucked forward, sending his cock into her throat, his eyes rolling up as she began to lick and suck. Her fingers were teasing his arse, her tongue curling and tasting and licking, and he couldn’t help noticing she was nearly as good at this as her son.
He didn’t last long, grunting as he pulled out, spilling his come all over her pretty face. Her lips, chin, and neck dripped with his release once he finished, her tongue lazily licking his now spent cock then her own lips. Blaise leaned down, kissing her fiercely, sucking her lips to remove his seed before releasing her. Pulling up his trousers, he didn’t bother with a cleaning spell, rather enjoying the idea of having their come on him as he went inside to play nice to his mum’s guests.
"I’m in room 1231 if you wish to continue this later," he informed her casually, smirking as he looked at her barely covered body, noting with satisfaction the bruises, bites, and marks he’d left on her beautiful skin. "You’ll forgive me for not staying, Mrs. Malfoy, but I’m afraid I must run along and play with those my own age, as you suggested earlier."
After blowing her a cheeky kiss, he turned and went back to the party. He gave his mum a very innocent smile when she narrowed her eyes and glared at him before making his way to the bar. He failed to notice Narcissa rejoin the party and wander over to where Hyacinth Parkinson was standing.
He was chatting with his new stepfather’s colleague when Hyacinth gasped and looked at him with a naughty leer before handing over a handful of galleons to a very smug Narcissa. He did, however, watch her shut the door to his hotel room a few hours later before she let her dress fall to the floor. And, when she smirked and challenged him to make her beg, he accepted.
The End
Out of Bounds
Story Notes:
August 4, 2005