Day 4 – Wax Play

Day 4 – Wax Play

The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of candles casting long shadows across the walls of Narcissa Malfoy's private chambers at Malfoy Manor. Hermione sat on the edge of the grand four-poster bed, her heart pounding in her chest as she watched Narcissa move with slow, deliberate grace around the room. The air was thick with anticipation, every flicker of the candlelight reflecting off the elegant, dark wood of the furniture.

It had been only a day since their encounter at Borgin and Burkes, but Narcissa had invited her here tonight for something different. Something more intimate. The curse had been lifted, and yet Hermione's thoughts had remained tangled in the memory of Narcissa's touch—how controlled, how careful, how commanding she had been.

And now, Narcissa stood before her, dressed in black, her eyes gleaming with something dark and dangerous as she held a small, delicate candle between her fingers.

"Tonight," Narcissa said softly, her voice smooth and commanding as she stepped closer, "I want to show you something different. Something you've never experienced before."

Hermione's breath caught in her throat, her body already responding to Narcissa's words, to the quiet intensity of the moment. She knew that whatever happened tonight, it would be on Narcissa's terms, and that thought alone sent a thrill through her.

Narcissa's fingers brushed lightly against Hermione's chin, tilting her face up to meet her gaze. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes," Hermione whispered, her voice steady despite the nervous flutter in her stomach. She did trust her—completely, even though she had never expected to find herself in this situation with Narcissa Malfoy of all people.

A slow, satisfied smile spread across Narcissa's lips as she straightened up, her hand trailing down Hermione's neck before resting lightly on her shoulder. "Good," she murmured. "Because tonight, I want to take my time with you."

With a flick of her wand, Narcissa dimmed the lights further, leaving only the soft glow of the candles to illuminate the room. The flickering flames cast dancing shadows across Narcissa's face, making her look even more ethereal, more untouchable.

But she wasn't untouchable. Not tonight.

Narcissa guided Hermione to lie back on the bed, her hands firm but gentle as she positioned her exactly where she wanted. Hermione's heart raced as she lay on the soft, cool sheets, her body tense with anticipation as she watched Narcissa move with slow, deliberate movements. She could hear the crackle of the flame as Narcissa lit another candle, the scent of lavender and something else—something deeper—filling the air.

Narcissa moved to stand at Hermione's side, her eyes gleaming as she held the candle over her, the flame casting a warm glow across Hermione's bare skin. The warmth of the candlelight felt soothing, comforting, but there was an edge to the moment that made Hermione's breath quicken.

"Have you ever experienced wax play before, Hermione?" Narcissa asked, her voice low, as if she were discussing something far more mundane.

Hermione shook her head, her body trembling slightly as she lay beneath Narcissa's intense gaze. "No," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper, her nerves catching up with her now.

Narcissa's lips curved into a slow, knowing smile, the candlelight casting shadows across her face, making her look even more commanding. "A first, then," Narcissa murmured, her tone dark but teasing. "I suspected as much. You have that… innocence about you. But beneath it, you're just aching to surrender, aren't you?"

Hermione opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out. It wasn't just what Narcissa was saying—it was the way she was saying it. Like she had known this part of Hermione long before Hermione had ever acknowledged it herself.

Narcissa didn't wait for her to respond. With slow deliberation, she tilted the candle, letting another drop of hot wax fall onto Hermione's bare chest, right between her breasts. Hermione flinched, the sharp heat shocking her, but it wasn't pain. It was something else entirely—an intensity that sent a current of sensation rippling through her skin, down to the very core of her body.

"You're holding on," Narcissa said softly, her eyes gleaming as she watched Hermione's body tense and relax beneath the sensation. "Don't. Let go."

Hermione's heart pounded, her pulse quickening as the warmth of the wax spread, leaving behind a soft, lingering sting. She felt Narcissa's free hand brush the side of her breast, the coolness of her fingers a stark contrast to the heat. Each touch was deliberate, precise—Narcissa was in full control of the situation, and Hermione found herself wanting to relinquish more and more to her.

The next drop of wax fell just above Hermione's navel, the heat rolling through her, each point of contact waking up something deep inside her. Narcissa's smile widened, dark satisfaction in her eyes.

"Every part of you responds to me," Narcissa whispered, her voice sultry but laced with command. She let the wax fall onto Hermione's abdomen, trailing it lower, closer to her hips. "Do you feel that, Hermione? How your body craves what I'm giving you?"

Hermione exhaled sharply, her body arching slightly from the bed, her skin alive with sensation. "Yes," she breathed, the word escaping her almost involuntarily.

Narcissa's eyes gleamed. "Good. You're learning."

The next drop of wax landed dangerously close to Hermione's thigh, and she gasped, her hips shifting instinctively toward Narcissa. The heat bloomed in that sensitive spot, spreading in delicious contrast to the cool air around them. Narcissa's fingers were immediately there, skimming along Hermione's inner thigh, teasing her with a light touch that made Hermione's pulse race faster.

"You look so beautiful like this," Narcissa said, her voice thick with appreciation as she let the wax drip again, just barely avoiding Hermione's most sensitive spot. "All marked, trembling beneath me."

Hermione could feel the rising need in her body, and Narcissa was doing nothing to relieve it. Instead, she seemed content to keep her on the edge, watching every reaction with those sharp, assessing eyes, as though Hermione were some kind of experiment she was dissecting, piece by piece.

Another drop of wax, this one over her breast again, and Hermione moaned, her body tensing as the combination of sensations overwhelmed her.

Narcissa chuckled softly. "You feel it, don't you? That pull between the pain and the pleasure."

Narcissa set the candle aside, her fingers tracing the path where the wax had hardened on Hermione's skin. The touch was slow, almost reverent, but it held an undercurrent of possession that made Hermione's heart race all over again.

"You're quivering for me," Narcissa observed, her voice almost smug as her fingers skimmed lower, brushing just above Hermione's center. "Your body knows what it wants, even if you're still pretending you don't."

Hermione shuddered, her hips lifting slightly, chasing Narcissa's touch. The need inside her was becoming unbearable, but Narcissa wasn't done yet. Her fingers trailed lightly over Hermione's slick heat, barely touching, teasing her relentlessly.

"I could make this stop," Narcissa whispered, her voice dark and velvety as her fingers slipped between Hermione's folds, still teasing. "All I'd need to do is push just a little harder. But why would I do that when I'm enjoying this so much?"

Hermione whimpered, her body aching with need, every nerve on fire as Narcissa continued her slow, torturous exploration.

Narcissa leaned down, her breath warm against Hermione's ear as she spoke. "I want to see you come undone beneath me," she whispered, her fingers finally pressing just enough to make Hermione's body jerk in response. "I want to feel it. Hear it. Let go, Hermione. I want every part of you."

The moment those words left her lips, Narcissa's fingers pressed harder, slipping inside Hermione with ease, her other hand trailing down to massage the soft curves of her waist, her hips. Hermione gasped, her entire body tightening as the combination of Narcissa's fingers and the cooling wax created a heady blend of sensation. The cool remnants of the wax mingled with the burning heat coursing through her, making Hermione writhe beneath Narcissa's touch.

Hermione's breaths came faster now, her body responding uncontrollably to the rhythm Narcissa set. "I can't—"

"Oh, you will," Narcissa murmured, a wicked smile on her lips as her fingers thrust deeper, faster, pushing Hermione toward the edge. "And I'll enjoy every second of it."

Hermione's entire body arched off the bed, her legs trembling as Narcissa's fingers moved with more intensity, filling her so completely. The heat from the wax, the smooth caress of Narcissa's hands, the feeling of being utterly at the mercy of someone so in control—it was too much, and yet not enough.

Narcissa's fingers curled inside her, hitting that spot deep within her that sent shockwaves through her body. "Let go, Hermione," she commanded softly, her voice low but firm. "I want you to come for me."

Hermione couldn't hold back any longer. Her entire body tensed, the pleasure building to an impossible peak before it exploded, her orgasm crashing over her with blinding intensity. She cried out, her body shuddering as wave after wave of pleasure consumed her, leaving her gasping for air as she clung to the sheets beneath her.

Narcissa's fingers slowed, her touch soothing now as she gently guided Hermione through the aftershocks of her release. She didn't speak, just watched with a quiet intensity as Hermione's body trembled beneath her, utterly spent.

When Hermione finally opened her eyes, her body still buzzing with the remnants of her orgasm, Narcissa was leaning over her, her lips curled into a soft, satisfied smile.

"Well done," Narcissa murmured, her voice rich with satisfaction as she brushed a stray curl away from Hermione's damp forehead. "You took that beautifully."

Hermione lay there, too exhausted to respond, her body still thrumming with the afterglow of the experience. The wax had hardened on her skin, the contrast of cool and hot sensations still lingering.

Narcissa's hand lingered for a moment longer before she stood, smoothing down her robes with practiced ease. "There's more we could explore," she said, her voice soft but teasing. "If you'd like. But we'll save that for another night."