𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘓𝘰𝘷𝘦 || Narcissa Malfoy

16. Burned to desire

Our kisses felt like flames, causing our bodies to crave one another's closeness. I shifted myself on top of her. I placed one of my hands on her cheek and wrapped the other around her neck. Our tongues danced in the rhythm of the song only we knew and heard.

"You do not want to mess with me," she whispered, as we broke the kiss, "You have no idea what I'm capable of."

"How about you show me, then?" I tilted my head.

Her hands explored my body without looking at the map. It's like she knew all the paths and turns, leaving a track of kisses on my neck, down to my collarbones. In a blink of an eye, I was found under her. The water escaped the bathtub and met with the floor at the sudden movement.

"You are mine only," she whispered, staring at me with a flame of possessiveness in her eyes, "Nobody else can touch you the way I do."

She slid her palms tenderly down the centre of my chest, brushing slightly against my breasts. She reached my stomach, but her hand didn't stop until I felt it on my inner thigh.

We looked at each other as if we just committed a felony. We were the only two in the room, yet I thought a million pairs of eyes were staring directly at us. Judging and whispering among one another. If only eyes could speak, the words I would hear on my deathbed would most certainly belong to them.

"Did I make myself clear, Cassiopeia?" she asked in a smoky voice.

"Yes– yes ma'am," I breathed, "I am all yours."

As we cleaned ourselves and stepped out of the bathtub, we wrapped ourselves in towels and went on with getting ready for the day. I stood in front of the mirror, brushing my still-wet hair and cursing under my nose, trying to brush the tangles out.

"Do you need any help? I can see you're struggling," Narcissa reached her hand out and I passed her the brush. "Your hair is beautiful, but it's very long and thick. Haven't you considered cutting it a bit?" she asked, as she stood behind me and gathered all my hair, brushing it through as gently as she could.

"My father doesn't let me do that. He prefers it long," I explained and looked at her reflection.

"Aren't you nineteen, darling?"

"I am, but it's difficult to explain," I sighed, knowing my father wasn't the one to give up on his words. "I know how it looks. I have a billion tattoos, but can't cut my hair," I laughed, trying to hide the fact I got nervous.

I disliked talking about my dad. The memories of his person already lived in my head and visited me in my nightmares. I didn't need to bring him to any of the conversations. I tried to avoid this topic as much as possible, but sometimes he had to be mentioned.

"He's always been like that ever since I met him. I quite understand what you mean. He's an ambitious man, but is very stubborn as well."

"I had no idea you met him in person. I thought Mr. Malfoy was the only one since they have seen each other at the Ministry."

"It was a long time ago, love. After your mother and Louis got married, and she was pregnant with you. Lucius and I were invited for dinner at their mansion. It was quite lovely until Lucius and Louis got into a fight. They both are prideful men, you see, and none of them was willing to apologise. Samantha and I had to take care of it."

At times, I forgot my father and Narcissa were the same age. It was odd to think they knew each other from the time before Draco and I were brought into this world, or that my mum and Lucius met.

"Is everything alright?" I asked when I realised Narcissa stopped brushing my hair, "If you're struggling as well, I can brush it myself."

"Who.. who did this to you?" she asked in a horrified tone, turning me around and making me look at my back in the reflection.