Chapter 1

Draco Malfoy was seething with anger as he stormed up the pathway towards Malfoy Manor. His rage was directed not at his father who had not been looking at all well since his escape from Azkaban. Nor was it directed at his mother who had become pale and jumpy since the Dark Lord had taken over their home. It was not even directed at the Dark Lord – who was the one who had set him the task of killing Dumbledore; the task he had failed. His anger was directed at his Aunt, Bellatrix Lestrange.

Bellatrix had taken it upon herself to punish him for failing to kill Dumbledore. She thought the Dark Lord has been terribly lenient about his failure. Everyone (including Draco himself) had expected the Dark Lord to kill him if he failed. Not that anyone had actually expected him to succeed. The task itself had been a punishment for his father's failure to retrieve the prophecy.

The worse part about his failure was that he had been given the perfect chance to kill Dumbledore but had not been able to do it. The only thing that had saved Draco's life was the intervention of Severus Snape. Where Draco had failed, Severus had succeeded.

Bellatrix had chosen a subtle and wickedly devious form of punishment. Noticing how he reacted when she had kissed him on the neck in the tower; she had decided to tease him at every opportunity. Every time she was near him she would glance at him seductively, lick her lips, run her hands through her long wavy hair, run her fingers suggesting along her collarbone or lower her voice to husky purr. Unfortunately for Draco, the fact that Malfoy Manor was now the official headquarters for the Death Eater's meant that there was no way to avoid her.

She was driving him half mad with sexual frustration. And the worst part of it was that he knew fully well she was doing it just to torment him, knowing that he could never act on it. She had chosen her punishment perfectly. As long as she was careful not to let anyone else catch her at it he couldn't do a thing. How could he tell anyone that he was lusting after his Aunt?

Bellatrix was a beautiful woman and she knew it. Even now when he was furious at her the thought of her full pouty lips, long wavy brown hair and slender body made his pants seem confining and tight. He shook his head as if to clear it and continued marching up the path. There is no way I'm going to make the meeting he thought irritably. I'm already 20 minutes late and thanks to my damned aunt; I'm in dire need of a cold shower.

As he shoved open the heavy wrought iron gates he decided he was glad he couldn't make the meeting. It was a relatively unimportant meeting about some intelligence from one of the Dark Lord's spies. He would no doubt get the gist of it from his parents later on. And because the Dark Lord liked to vary the venues of his meetings; for several blissful hours he would have the Manor all to himself. Before the Death Eaters had moved in it had always seemed rather empty, now it seemed he couldn't get a moment of peace.

The diamond-paned windows of the large Manor house winked at him in the soft lamplight and leaves blew across the gravel path. Despite his agitation he felt his spirits lift slightly. This was his home. The door swung upon by itself when he came near and he went in. He quickly peeled off his black suit jacket and hung it on a peg. His black leather shoes went on a long, low stand next to the row of pegs. There was only one other coat and one other pair of shoes in the hall – a long black trench coat and a wicked pair of black stilettos.

The eyes of numerous portraits followed him as he strode down the dimly lit hall, his footsteps muffled by the thick, luxurious carpet. As he drew close to the half-open door of the drawing room he noticed it was lit with a flickering light. Strange for there to be a fire to be on if there was no one home. With a growing feeling of dread he entered the drawing room, softly closing the door behind him and taking a few steps forward.

He froze when he saw who was there. Seated in a plush, comfortable armchair in front of the marble fireplace with her back to him was the person he least wanted to see – Bellatrix. He tried to get back to the door without attracting her attention but before he could move one step she turned around, a malicious grin spreading over her lovely face.

"Ah Draco" she purred, getting slowly to her feet and walking around the armchair. Her hair was down and the tight, low-cut black dress she was wearing showed off her figure to perfection. He had to remind himself to keep his eyes on her face.

"Skiving off the meeting are we?" she said enquiringly, a hint of mockery in her voice. Draco took a deep breath and replied "No, Aunty", putting as much disdain as he could in the word Aunty. "I was busy with important things and forgot the time. I can hardly walk in now it's started. Why aren't you at the meeting?"

"Someone has to stay here to guard the Manor" she said haughtily. "Headquarters is too important to risk." "Oh. I see" he replied sulkily. "Well don't let me keep you…"

He turned around to go but Bellatrix apparated, disappearing in a stream of black smoke and reappearing between him and the door. "Now, what's the rush?" she said huskily, placing one hand on her hip.

"Please, move" he said through gritted teeth, feeling his anger rise back to the surface. "But I don't want to" she purred in a mock-childish way. "I don't have time for this" he muttered, a scowl on his pale, narrow, handsome face. "Is ickle Draco getting angry with Aunty?" she said mockingly. "Does ickle Draco want his Mummy?" she said, enjoying his growing anger at her.

Suddenly he couldn't take any more and whipped out his wand, presenting the tip at the hollow of Bellatrix's throat. Her eyes widened and he could hear her sharp intake of breath. "Get out of the way" he said slowly, voice low and cold. She backed-up a step, eyes on the wand he kept at her throat. Her eyes flicked up to his and he enjoyed the fear he could see in them. He could tell she knew she finally pushed him too far.

Relishing having the power he stepped forward a few paces, forcing her to back up until her back was touching the door. He could see in her face that she realized that wand less with his wand at her throat she was completely helpless. With most people (well, maybe not Potter or that Mudblood Granger) he would have felt at least a tiny bit of guilt at scaring them. However he felt a good scare was the least Bellatrix deserved after what she had put him through.

Keeping his wand at the hollow of her neck, he took another step closer, bringing him a body's-width away from Bellatrix. This close he was very aware that he was considerably taller than her. He was also aware of her sweet, musky scent and the rise and fall of her chest as her breathing got faster. Oh crap he thought as he realized that having her completely at his mercy, pressed up against the door was a huge turn-on.

He prayed she wouldn't see the growing bulge in his pants but her eyes slid slowly downwards. Her eyebrows went up in surprise and he could feel his face flush. A mischievous grin spread over her face. He saw a combination of triumph and desire in her dark eyes. Suddenly the sexual tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife.

"Getting ideas are we?" she said teasingly, tilting her head to one side. She walked forward till her face was inches from his. "You're not having naughty thoughts about me, are you Draco?" she purred, running one finger down the side of his face.

Draco did the only thing he could do. He dropped the wand and pulled her to him, sliding his arms around her and crushing her mouth with his.

She seemed surprised for a split second. Then she relaxed into the kiss, winding her arms round his neck and pulling him closer. They stumbled backward till she was pressed against the door. He could hardly believe what he was doing, what they were doing. The eagerness of her response had taken him by surprise.

He couldn't help thinking wryly that although her teasing had backfired she seemed to be thoroughly enjoying it. Then her tongue was in his mouth and he was no longer capable of rational thought.

Her hands moved down to cup his ass, nails digging into his flesh through the fabric of his black suit pants. Just as it was starting to hurt she let go. Her hands went to his waistband tugging his black high-collared shirt out of his pants. Between them they tugged it off, dropping it on the floor.

Her dark eyes skimmed over his lean, slightly muscled torso, a lascivious glint in them telling him she liked what she saw. He leaned in and kissed her neck, trailing his lips down the side of her neck until he could kiss along her collarbone. "Yesss" she purred, closing her eyes. Her skin was smooth, soft and pale. It looked beautiful with the light of the fire flickering over it. He wanted to see more of that skin.

He fumbled with the criss-cross pattern of ties holding the front of her dress closed. Her eyes flicked open and she smiled, daring him with her eyes to keep going. He slowly undid the ties, exposing her pale, round, perfectly-shaped breasts. Unable to help himself he leaned in and put his mouth on them- kissing, licking and nibbling them, until he wrung a low moan from her throat.

His last shred of self control vanished, his brain clouded by lust. All he could think about was the burning need to have her; to relieve the throbbing in his pants.

She pulled him to her and kissed him hard, biting his lower lip. Licking the blood of his lip she wound one of her legs around one of his legs, pressing the length of their bodies together.

The throbbing in his pants intensified and he pulled away, fumbling at his belt buckle for long seconds before he finally got it undone. She let out a deep, throaty and strangely erotic chuckle as his pants fell around his ankles. She nibbled seductively on her pouty bottom lip as she took in the long hard length of him. That was all the encouragement he needed.

He moved back towards her and slowly rolled up the skirt of her dress. It was his turn to grin wickedly when he realized that like him she didn't bother with underwear.

With her skirt up around her waist his hands went to cup her ass, lifting her up and pressing her against the door. She responded by wrapping her legs around his waist and rubbing herself against him in a way that made his eyes roll up into his head.

In one swift motion he pushed his aching shaft inside her, making her gasp with pleasure. The feel of her so warm and wet almost made him go right then but he began to move in long slow strokes, pinning her against the wall.

Her eyes were half closed and her lips parted as he pushed himself all the way in. He began to move in short rapid strokes. A long, low throaty moan came from her that nearly drove him over the edge.

She tightened herself around him and he moaned, drowning in the sensation. "Oh god" he breathed. She nibbled on the lobe of his ear sending a shiver down his spine. She murmured in his ear "couch."

Still deep in her he took all of her weight and carried her over to the couch.

They tumbled onto the couch with him on top and she pulled the dress over her head. The sight of her completely naked underneath him made him even harder.

He started to thrust again, faster and deeper this time, hitting that spot inside her with every thrust. Soon she was writhing beneath him, as close to losing it as he was.

Finally he could do what he wanted for so long and take her roughly, as fast and hard as could. He drove himself into her, each thrust rocking her body and bringing a moan from her luscious lips. He felt that slow, warm build of pressure between his legs and knew he wouldn't be able to hold on much longer. He felt as if he was about to explode.

She cried out in pleasure as he brought her, her body arching underneath him. Her long nails raked down his back. It hurt a lot but the pain swiftly turned into pleasure, pushing him over the edge. An overwhelming rush of pleasure spread through his whole body like electricity. Completely exhausted and for once in life completely satisfied he collapsed on top of her.

When both of them could move she wriggled out form under him and lay with her head on his chest. He sighed and said wryly 'I'm never going to actually win an argument with you, am I?" "The sooner you learn that the better" she said smugly, looking like the cat that's got the cream.