A/N: It was difficult for me to keep this T-rated, but I would have been embarassed to post it otherwise. Enjoy.

-- Burn Now --
(What Was Once Breathing)

After they were finished, Voldemort lifted Bellatrix down from the gravestone. She swayed on her feet and he wrapped his arm around her waist to steady her. She leaned against his shoulder, still breathing heavily from their hurried coupling.

"Are you alright?" he asked, and she could have sworn she heard actual concern in his voice. "Did I hurt you?"

"No," she said, lifting her head. Her expression was pure bliss. "I'm fine. I don't mind if you're rough with me. I'm not some delicate princess who's going to cry over a few bruises. It's just... been awhile..."

It had been a long time since Bellatrix had been touched by anyone but herself. Of course, pleasuring herself was a far cry from being with a man - even a sloppy lover like her husband. Nothing she was able to do by herself could compare to having a man's hands on her, the weight of his body on her hips, his hot breath on her neck and his ragged cries mingling with her own.

Her mind was completely open to Voldemort's as these thoughts bubbled up, and he was treated to several brief flashes of memory in which Bellatrix (in various states of undress) had one hand between her thighs and an almost comical expression of half-frustrated concentration on her face.

Bellatrix was drawn out of her thoughts when she felt the Dark Lord's hands begin to wander over her body, stroking her lush curves through the thin material of her dress.

"More, already?" she asked in surprise. She'd never had a sexual encounter that carried on past the initial act before.

"You're too exhausted to continue? I thought you said you weren't some delicate princess..."

She couldn't tell if he was annoyed with her or just teasing. His tone gave nothing away.

"I suppose you could say I'm just not very experienced," she replied, her sentence trailing off into a moan as he trailed hot kisses down her neck. "I've had only a few lovers, none of whom were particularly skilled." Including her husband, which she somehow managed to refrain from saying aloud.

"I'll show you how it's done properly, then," he murmured against her skin. It was at that moment that he remembered they were in the middle of a graveyard. He pulled away from her slightly. "We should go somewhere else."

He was hesitant to take her back to the Riddle house, though. It was the home of his filthy muggle ancestors (and besides that, it was a complete wreck).

"Here's fine. There's no one around," she argued, unfastening her cloak and letting it slide to the ground, as if to prove her point.

It would be uncomfortable in a place like this, which is why he wanted to go somewhere else.

Well, I'll just have to make it as comfortable for her as I can...

Luckily, no one at the school missed her presence in the following hours, thanks to the chaos caused by Cedric's corpse and Harry Potter's announcement that the Dark Lord had returned.

-tbc-

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