Chapter 102: Break [R-18]

The final week of the term went quite fast. Students went home for the holiday or stayed at the castle. For Rick and his brood, everyone went back to Potter Manor. Fleur wished happy holidays to everyone and went back to France to spend Christmas with her family. Viktor too had left to visit his parents in Bulgaria. Both would get  surprise gifts in their luggage from many members of the Potters and the Blacks.

Marlene had decided to come up and live inside Potter Manor too. While Duncan had known that his parents were done for good, he hadn’t known that Rick and her had decided to marry and that he would be a big brother soon. Marlene had begun to show and she wouldn’t hide it to her darling son. He was not really that affected by his parents not making it as he rarely saw them together since he was at Hogwarts but he was happy by the news that her mother finally found happiness and to be a big brother soon. He worried for his father a bit but Sirius was already courting a Hit-wizard witch madly so not that worried.

Amelia too had made the same decision as Marlene regarding her living arrangement. With Voldemort at large and her starting to get bigger from the pregnancy it wasn’t as safe in Bones Manor. Her being heavy with child was a well kept secret as she used glamour to conceal that fact. However for the last two months she wouldn’t be able to work properly at the office that was why, she planned for Nymphadora to act in her stead for her public appearance and for Moody to pick up anything administrative. The man had nothing to do now that the Black prison was ready but without criminals to put in there yet.

Lyra’s return to school was done without fanfare. The classes she missed hadn’t been a great loss, her father having taught her in advance like all her siblings. While some gave her a look of pity no one said anything about what happened to her.  Except one student who the following night had a second name change.

From Onestone to Nostone.

Everyone knew who was responsible but they couldn’t exactly tell who. The members of Potter and Black Family were too numerous in the castle to designate someone. In truth they all would have been wrong. It was a Malfoy who did the deed, helped by a very special map made by a Gryffindor friend and an invisibility cloak. Nobody would have suspected a student who has been the example of discipline for the past four years to have done it. No one but Lyra who simply kissed her cousin’s cheek affectionately and far too long for his taste.

Christmas day had been quite a joyous occasion. All the children had been happy with the presents they got. Rigella finally received the toy broom which Rick had bought for Nymphadora nearly twenty years earlier and which had been passed down from children to children. Of course Rick checked and reapplied the charms on it. The first thing Rigella did was fly away. She nearly hit Reggie but the old cat was so used to children flying towards him he didn’t even bother to move.

Rick’s wives and concubines had searched long and hard for what to offer him but in vain. It was Bella that came up with a simple solution. Themselves. When the children went to sleep, they all pooled inside his bedroom with a gift ribbon on their neck while wearing diverse lingeries or sexy gowns. It had been the first time he had to satisfy all of them at the same time. Of course, even with a stamina potion it hasn’t been possible to do it to the fullest. Lily may have found solace with Bella, Amelia and Marlene but the others, especially Bella, had a lot of room for more. They knew it wasn’t feasible for Rick but it didn't matter, it was for him and not for them they were doing this.

The next morning, Rick dragged Narcissa away for a two day trip in Paris. He had asked Fleur for information regarding the most romantic locations in the city of love and she had been quite eager to answer him.

He did his very best to melt the heart of the youngest of the Black sisters. Shopping at the most expensive store, muggles and magical alike. Eating at the most expensive restaurants, walks in famous parks hand in hand to finally culminate at midnight of the very first day. He had brought her to the top of the Eiffel Tower which was supposed to be closed and they simply enjoyed the view of Paris at night in silence. He was embracing her from behind lovingly while doing so.

“How is it so far as a romantic getaway?” he asked, pulling her against his chest.

“It’s alright.”

“Just alright, huh?” He began to kiss her along the neck, slowly. “If the city of love can’t make miracles then I guess no more Paris. No more anywhere, really.”

He had been pursuing her relentlessly every second of his free time since his declaration yet nothing had worked so far. Narcissa took it all with grace even though they both knew he was spoiling her and she loved it. This trip to Paris was his last attempt and he went at it without a care about the money spent.

Narcissa appreciated the effort, no one ever did as much as he did for her courting her. Certainly not Lucius. Rick didn’t have too. He already had her in his clutch. He was the head of their House, he had her body whenever he wanted which usually was when she wanted, he didn’t need to do all that for her. He had won her over in all matters but the heart. Lucius had stopped there once they were married, not bothering to even keep doing it but Rick did and he went further, he went after her heart with the determination of a man either possessed or obsessed.

It made her feel good. It made her feel truly desired and loved. And thus, despite the fact he had four wives including one sister, and another sister as a concubine just like her. He loved every single one of them, of that she had no doubt but he went beyond to prove that love constantly. Had he been single, Narcissa would have fallen long ago but the knowledge that she’s not the only one mixed with Lucius’ treatment of her and her pride didn’t allow herself to put down the walls she had put up when Lucius’ betrayal was revealed to her almost twenty years ago.

“Rick and Lucius couldn’t be more different.”

Rick has been genuine, he had no need for her, she had nothing to offer him but her body which seemed silly when he had Amelia and Lily who were stacked like pornstars. He had given her without a second thought the daughters she had always wanted and was there for them, for raising them, like any good husband would be and have.

Lucius had blamed her for the death of their daughters from a curse he knew was running in his bloodline.

Before she could think further, as her heart melted more and more for the man making her feel things she had given up on feeling, he stopped kissing her neck and presented her with a small black velvet box. Her breath hitched in her throat.

“Come on, open it.” He invited her.

Slowly she opened it with her hand. She was thankful it was cold because the shaking of her hand wasn’t a result of it. Pulling back the lid, she was presented with a beautiful engagement ring. It took her breath away.

The ring was no mere adornment—it was a statement, a declaration, a vow forged in brilliance.

Cast in white gold that shimmered like moonlight caught in motion, the set gleamed with the kind of confidence that could only come from knowing it was meant to be worn by someone unforgettable. Three bands, seamlessly fused into one elegant force of craftsmanship, encircled the finger like a promise that would never be broken.

At the center, rising above all, stood a solitaire round-cut diamond—a star captured in silver claws, its facets dancing with fire. It wasn’t simply set; it was enthroned. Flanked on either side, rows of precision-cut baguette diamonds lay like glass pillars, anchoring the design with structure and poise. Around them, brilliant-cut pavé diamonds dusted the band with light, each one catching the world and tossing it back as sparkle. They framed the central stone not with restraint, but with reverence—like courtiers orbiting their queen.

Every surface of the ring whispered of care, of legacy, of a love that had been imagined in dreams before it was forged in metal. The trio of bands—each distinct, yet inseparable—spoke of unity: past, present, and future clasped together in timeless design.

It was not a ring to be worn lightly. It was a crown for the hand, forged not just in gold and stone, but in intention.

“I know we can’t marry but if I could, I would, Cissy.” he said softly.

He picked the ring with his hand not holding the box and presented it to her in a manner suggesting he wanted her to lift her left hand and let him slide it on her ring finger. She turned her head and looked up at him. Straight into his eyes. He noticed a vulnerability he knew she had but never shown until now.

“You break my heart… I break your everything.” she threatened.

“I can’t promise you to not break your heart. Who knows what tomorrow is made of? Mistakes happen all the time but I can promise you to never shatter it.”

She searched his eyes for lies. Lies she would never find, she knew. Making her decision, she raised her hand and let him put the ring on her. It was a perfect fit, he wouldn’t have offered it to her otherwise, that she knew too.

After giving a long look at her newly crowned hand, she whispered something that always delighted him to hear from her uppity and proper mouth.

“Fuck me.” she ordered and pleaded at the same time.

The winter wind skated past the Eiffel Tower’s lattice like a whisper of ghosts, brushing Narcissa’s cheeks with the chill of altitude. Midnight loomed around them—endless, ancient, and alive. Below, Paris shimmered, a constellation sprawled across the Earth, unaware that above its glimmering heart, she stood bent at the waist, palms flat against the wrought-iron railing, spine a porcelain arch of sin. A soft warmth clung to the platform—the shimmer of a heating charm flickering in the air, its magic subtle but thorough, not quite enough to banish the sharp bite of winter, only enough to keep the snow from settling on her exposed skin. Her breath still fogged the air in pale clouds, and each inhalation filled her lungs with the crisp cold and the heady scent of him: cedar, wind, the smoke of old spells and something darker. Musk. Hunger.

She was bared. Completely. He had stripped her coat from her with the sweep of a wand, letting it vanish into the ether. Her gown, an elegant midnight blue that fell like oil down her figure, now hiked high over her hips, the soft velvet ruched in folds above the swell of her ass. The knickers she’d worn—sheer, scandalous, chosen with him in mind—hung halfway down one thigh, tangled and abandoned, no longer protecting her from the cold or his gaze.

And he looked at her as if she were the only thing left in the world worth devouring.

Rick was tall, towering behind her like some carved war-god, broad hands at her waist, fingers spreading to claim her hips. His knuckles brushed the edge of her cheeks as he lowered himself behind her, and she shivered—not from the cold, but from the anticipation that slithered like fire down her spine.

When he parted her legs with two firm hands and lowered his face between her thighs, she felt it in her throat before she felt it on her cunt—the throb of her pulse, the soft gasp she gave without meaning to, the heat that flared behind her ribs.Then his tongue slid over her.

She nearly screamed.

It wasn’t the first time he’d eaten her. But up here, suspended in the sky, the world frozen around her and his face buried in her like he’d been lost in a desert and just found water—it felt different. Felt urgent. Felt profane.

His tongue was wide and hot, gliding through her folds with a slow patience that belied the grip of his fingers digging into her thighs. He licked like he was spelling something, slow flicks followed by longer, deliberate strokes that parted her lips and dipped between, teasing the trembling edges of her clit. Then—he sucked.

“Ah—ahh—aaahhh, Rick—oh, Merlin—”

Her voice cracked around the vowels, each syllable dragged from her chest like prayer and obscenity had become the same thing. Her thighs trembled as the wet sound of his mouth on her echoed faintly against the iron bones of the Tower. Her breath turned to fog and vanished.

He moaned into her, the vibration deep, reverent. She felt it bloom through her belly.

Then—deeper. He dragged his tongue down to her entrance and slid in. She felt every inch, every warm, relentless movement. He fucked her with his mouth. He didn’t just taste her—he devoured her, and she was melting under him. Her knees quaked, her body alight, her clit now a swollen ache that screamed for attention.

“Oh—fuck—yes, yes, just like that, don’t you dare stop—”

She couldn’t stop moving. Couldn’t stop grinding back against his face, hips twitching in time with every wet glide of his tongue, every flick, every sucking kiss. Her fingers slipped on the railing, and she gripped harder, nails scraping against cold metal. It didn’t matter. Nothing did but the tongue lashing her raw and the thick, wicked fingers now gripping her ass, spreading her wider as he buried his face deeper. She could hear it. Hear how wet she was. Hear how messy it had become. The slick, obscene sounds of his mouth working at her. He growled, and the sound vibrated through her entire body.

“Merlin, you’re—fuck—you’re making me—” she couldn’t even finish the thought.

Her back arched, mouth open in a silent scream as the orgasm broke over her like glass shattering inside her skin. She sobbed. It hit too fast, too hard, dragging her under in wave after hot, humiliating wave. Her pussy clenched around nothing, spasming, desperate, wetness gushing down her thighs and onto his face.

He didn’t move. Didn’t let up. Kept licking. Kept kissing her pussy like it was sacred and forbidden and utterly his.

When she finally sagged against the railing, boneless, gasping, he rose.

He didn’t speak. Didn’t smirk. Just stood behind her, hands moving to his belt, undoing the buckle. The clink of metal was loud in the silence. She turned her head, cheek pressed against her own arm, eyes heavy-lidded and dazed. She watched him through the tousled fall of her hair as he let his pants drop. His cock sprang free, thick, flushed with blood and rigid as iron.

It was the kind of cock that demanded reverence. Or warning.

He stepped behind her and took himself in hand, running the thick head along her slit, not entering, just sliding between the lips, letting her feel the heat, the weight, the size of him. She whimpered, pushing her hips back, but he pulled away, teasing.

“Don’t,” she breathed, lips swollen, voice hoarse. “Don’t tease me. I need you.”

He lined up again, the head catching at her entrance, spreading her slightly, just enough to make her pant—and she snapped. Narcissa slammed her hips back, impaling herself on his cock with a cry that tore from her belly.

“Ah—nnnnnghh—fuck, yes!”

Half of him vanished inside her, and it felt like too much. Felt like she was splitting open from the inside, her pussy stretching tight and trembling around him, desperate and slick and still fluttering from the orgasm he’d torn from her seconds ago.

She couldn’t speak. Couldn’t even breathe.

He grunted behind her, fingers digging into her hips, and began to move.

It was slow at first. A slide in, another half-inch, then out—then deeper the next time. Every thrust made her gasp, made her nipples ache and her toes curl in her boots. Her breasts bounced free from the now-ruined bodice of her dress, nipples dragged by the cold air, then warmed by the heat of her body swinging forward with every punishing thrust. She began to fuck him back. Rhythmic. Desperate. Their hips slapped together with messy, wet sounds that felt obscene in the silence of the sky. Every stroke pushed her closer to the railing until her breasts bounced against the metal, and she didn’t care. She loved it. She was open, full, pinned and fucked and used and treasured.

He reached around her, hands cupping her breasts now, squeezing hard, thumbs flicking over the stiff peaks of her nipples, rolling them until she whimpered.

“You’re so tight,” he growled against her ear, dragging his tongue along her throat. “Say it, Cissy. Say it.”

She didn’t answer. Her eyes were rolling back, her mouth open, drool catching at the corner of her lip. She was too far gone.

So he thrust again. Harder. Deeper.

She felt the head of his cock slam into the mouth of her womb, and something inside her shattered. She screamed—long, high, wordless.

Then she came again.

She felt it build like a tidal wave behind her navel and then rip through her. Her pussy convulsed, pulsing around him, and she came so hard it wasn’t even a climax—it was an explosion. She felt herself gush, squirt, a hot torrent of release spilling out and down her thighs.

And in that moment, his body tensed—he pulled her tight to him and came with a roar, cock buried deep inside against her womb, his seed gushing in waves, hot, endless, filling her until she swore she could feel it pool.

She cried out again, and the words tumbled from her lips unbidden:

“I love you!”

There was no shame in it. No pretense. Just breath and sweat and skin and the trembling aftermath of a climax that had stripped her bare in every way a woman could be.

“We’re… find us a room. We’re not… stopping until I’m done.” she ordered between heavy but short breaths.

Rick replied with a smirk. “As my lady commands.”

When their little getaway ended and they came back to Potter Manor, Bella and Andromeda immediately caught the shift in their sister. To everyone else, Narcissa looked just the same but not for them. They knew something had happened and they immediately dragged her away for a private talk. Rick went around kissing and hugging anyone he could, including Marlene and Amelia’s pregnant belly. They were surprised by his attitude and the care he showed them. Amelia especially. None had seen the way he had treated Lily and Bella or anyone else who had been pregnant with his child yet.

“Yes, he’s always like this.” Lily had told them with a proud and pleased smile. “That’s mainly how I could handle three pregnancies relatively so well. And you’ve seen nothing yet.”

“So what? We’re just going to be pampered to hell and back?” a shocked Marlene wondered.

Lily explained further. “Pretty much. Except when you’re throwing a hormonal tantrum. If he’s too tired, he’ll just disappear for a bit but come back with plenty of food you’re craving so by the time your hunger is satiated your hormone induced rage is gone and you forget about it.”

“If I didn’t love my job so much, I'd stay pregnant like this all the time.” Amelia admitted, liking the idea of Rick pampering her.

The ladies had a good laugh at that.

When Rick went to his bedroom he found Nymphadora there on his bed. Tied up, gagged and wearing nothing but sexy black lingerie. He sighed in exasperation. He knew it wasn’t only one of Bella’s games but Nymphadora’s too. As a metamorphmagus she could have easily broken free by changing her body shape.

“So it’s your turn.” he said in defeat, walking toward her. “I have to warn you Nymmie, I’m possessive. We do this… You’re mine forever.” he added then removed the ball gagged out of her mouth.

Her answer was swift. “I know. Mom, warned me.”

“You do realize that if we ever have children together, Atria would be their sister but also Aunt?”

“Fucked up, I know but then again, I’m a Black.” In front of his hesitation, she moved her free legs to circle them around his waist. “I want this. I’ve been dreaming of this since I was eight. Not the sexual part, that came when I hit puberty.” She laughed about that before her composure changed to something more serious. “I’ve always been jealous of Aunt Lily and Bella then mother, Aunt Narcissa. It’s like every Black gets to have you but me. That’s not fair.”

“A few conditions first then.”

“Whatever you-” he shut her up by raising a hand.

“No male parts or appearance. No animal appearance either, not even for a joke.”

“Fair.” she admitted.

“No flat as a plank either.” the words barely went through his lips that Nymphadora increased the size of her breasts slowly but significantly. In fact her whole body morphed to Lily’s proportion. Hair length included.

“This.” he pointed at her with his finger. “Is my last condition, no looking like someone else I’m sleeping with. Unless they gave their permission and even then… If I want to have sex with Lily, I would go to Lily. Or Bella, or Amelia or… well you get it. It’s Nymmie I’m with or someone I can’t have sex with if you want to spice things up.”

“So I could turn into another Lily if we’re tag teaming you?”

“Yes, I suppose you could and if Lily gives… Who am I kidding? She would agree faster than she can say ‘I want.’” he chuckled at the idea. “Come on, get out of this.”

Thinning her wrists she freed herself from the bindings. She picked her wand and pointed it at Rick removing all his clothes.

The room shimmered in low amber wandlight, the air itself soaked in heat and anticipation. Rick sat at the edge of the bed, bare-chested, his thighs spread wide and feet planted firm on the flagstone floor. His cock lay heavy and half-rigid along his thigh, the tip already flushed and beaded, pulsing with a quiet ache that had started the moment Nymphadora crawled across the sheets in her transformed body—her latest gift to him.

She was a vision carved from filth and fantasy. The lace of her lingerie, black and thin as smoke, clung to impossible curves. She’d shaped herself into a sinful contradiction—short and tiny, barely reaching his shoulder now, with impossibly exaggerated proportions that defied modesty and physics alike. Her breasts, now mountainous H-cups, strained against the fragile mesh of her lingerie, the dark peaks of her nipples prominent beneath the sheer cups. Her waist had narrowed into a waspish cinch, impossibly small, before flaring into wide, thick hips and a heart-shaped ass that swayed with every movement. Her legs were folded neatly beneath her, her long, dark curls spilling around her like midnight flames, and her lips—pouted and glistening—curled with that wicked smirk she wore only when she was about to ruin him completely.

She moved between his legs like smoke and silk, hands trailing up his thighs, her fingers feathering over his skin, teasing. “I want to play with you, Daddy,” she purred, voice thick with sugar and heat, crawling up his lap until her massive breasts grazed his cock and he twitched visibly in response. “I made myself soft and perfect. For you. Big enough to lose you between them. You’re not going to stop me, are you?”

Before he could answer, she gathered her breasts in both hands and squeezed them together, the weight of them plush and decadent. She spit delicately into the cleft between them, a trail of warm saliva sliding down into the tight valley, and then pressed her tits around his shaft, engulfing him in soft heat. His cock, now fully erect, disappeared between her breasts like a blade sheathed in molten velvet.

“Ohhh, fuck yes…” she moaned, rolling her shoulders as she began to move, sliding her tits up and down the length of him with smooth, slick strokes. “So thick, Daddy… I can feel you throbbing already. You love this, don’t you? Watching your cock vanish in your good little girl’s big fat tits?” Her voice was thick with breathless amusement, her tongue darting out to lap at the crown of his cock whenever it emerged from her cleavage. “You’ve got such a gorgeous cock, and it looks even better smothered between the tits you made me grow.”

Rick’s breath was deep, slow, clenched tight in his chest. His hands gripped the sheets beside him, knuckles whitening. He didn’t stop her. Couldn’t. Every bounce, every grind of her tits sent sparks of pleasure up his spine.

Then her tongue extended, sliding from her mouth like liquid fire. With careful, wet dexterity, she coiled it around the entire shaft, her moans vibrating in her throat as her tongue flexed and pulsed around him. The pressure was divine. Heat and moisture, softness and suction, the furious rhythm of her breasts bouncing over him—every motion stroking his cock from root to tip in ways that bordered on supernatural.

“You gonna cum for your little girl, Daddy?” she whispered, her eyes locked on his, voice thick with desire and deference. “Gonna make your little girl messy? I want it. I want it on my face, my tongue, my tits. I want to wear your cum like your mark. Like it says ‘Daddy owns me’.”

Rick grunted, hips twitching. “I’m—fuck, I’m gonna—”

She pulled back with expert timing, uncoiling her tongue, squeezing her tits around the base of his cock as she opened her mouth and tilted her face up in eager worship. The first burst caught her across the cheek, thick and hot and heavy. She moaned with delight, catching the second stream across her tongue, the third splashing against her chin and neck. He spilled over her in powerful pulses, and she accepted every drop like nectar from the divine, licking it from her lips, her fingers scooping from her cheek to suck greedily.

“Mmmm, gods, it’s so thick,” she whispered, licking her palm slowly. “You taste like power and heat and need.” She wiped her chest, her breasts slick with his cum, then bent forward to lick a stripe clean from between them, purring as she swallowed.

While Rick caught his breath, she crawled back up onto the mattress and lay flat on her back, her body sprawled like a feast offered up to some ravenous deity. Her legs lifted into a wide V, knees drawn back, thighs trembling with desire. One hand reached down between them, fingers parting her swollen, soaking lips to expose her dripping slit—wet and gleaming, the folds pulled open in brazen invitation. Her other hand cupped the weight of one breast and lifted it to her mouth again. She sucked at her nipple with slow, deliberate hunger, eyes fluttering shut as her throat moved.

Rick narrowed his eyes. She wasn’t just teasing anymore.

She was drinking.

His cock, still slick with her spit and his cum, throbbed with renewed life. She moaned around her nipple, then released it with a lewd pop and squeezed, hard. Milk sprayed in an arc across her chest, soaking the lace and glistening in the light.

That was all the invitation he needed.

He climbed onto the bed and knelt between her thighs, wrapping his hands around her legs and spreading them wider. His cock dropped onto her stomach, thick and heavy and fully hard again, the tip resting just beneath the swell of her breasts. Her body was so small now, reshaped and pocket-sized—built for him to own.

“You’re going to make yourself loose,” he ordered, gripping his cock, pressing it to her entrance. “Let me in. Then you’ll tighten up once I’m inside. As much as you like.”

Her lips curled into a smile of wanton delight. “Only if you give it to me all at once, Daddy. No teasing. No holding back. I want to feel it. I want to be split open.”

He drove forward, burying himself to the base in one deep, gliding thrust. Her back arched, a scream of pleasure tearing from her throat as her body clenched around him. She was loose—but only for a moment. He could feel it happening. Her pussy reshaping around him, squeezing tighter, hugging every inch in molten velvet as if she were sculpting herself into the perfect sheath for his cock.

“Oh fuck, fuck—Daddy—yes—so deep, it’s in my belly,” she gasped, eyes wide, her hands gripping the sheets as she rocked her hips up to meet every slow, devastating thrust. “I made this hole for you. I belong on this cock.”

Rick leaned down, his mouth closing around her nipple, and drank. Milk filled his mouth, warm and sweet, spilling from the corners of his lips. He moaned around her flesh and thrust harder, deeper, her cunt milking him with every pulse.

“More,” she whimpered. “Fuck me harder, Daddy. Make me your little slut. Use me. Breed me—fuck, breed me! Fill me so full I leak for days!”

He obeyed.

The sound of his hips slamming into hers was wet and obscene, her breasts bouncing with every savage motion, milk streaking his skin. Her pussy was a vice around him now, so tight it felt like she was sucking the orgasm from his spine.

“I want your seed,” she begged. “I want to carry your cum—feel it sloshing inside me when I walk. I want to belong to you from the inside out—”

Her climax detonated mid-sentence. Her entire body convulsed beneath him, her eyes crossing, mouth open in a scream that shattered into broken, helpless moans. She trembled uncontrollably, her nails scoring his back, her pussy a tempest of grip and wetness.

He didn’t stop.

He fucked her through it, dragging every twitch of her climax into a prolonged, mind-shattering cascade until her voice was gone and her body was shaking violently. Then he came with a roar, hips buried to the hilt, spilling inside her with pulse after overwhelming pulse of thick, hot cum.

Even as she lay gasping beneath him, wrung out and half-conscious, he stayed nestled deep inside, his mouth still latched to her breast, drinking every last drop she offered.

And Nymphadora, soaked in sweat and milk and cum, eyes glassy and shining, whispered:

“Again… when you’re ready, Daddy… make me yours again.”