Chapter 2

Harry's head throbbed fiercely as he swam slowly back into consciousness.

He became dimly aware of a hard surface underneath him. His hands were in an uncomfortable position behind his back, something cold wrapped around his wrists that made it impossible to move them.

Where was he? How did he get here? His attempt at remembering what had happened cost him a stabbing pain in the side of his skull. He groaned but persisted. Slowly it came back to him, splinters… shards of memory. He had gone to the bar on work for the Ministry… he had met that girl… the one who had reminded him of Narcissa… right before knocking him unconscious.

He opened one eye a crack. He was lying on his side on a smooth wooden floor. The room was small but luxurious in an old fashioned way. There was a blazing fire in the grate, a hooded figure silhouetted against it. A petite witch, her face hidden by the hood of the cloak.

He felt his own intake of breath as the witch lowered her hood. Her eyes were heavy-lidded and dark now rather than blue, as dark as the hair that rippled down her back. Her porcelain skin gleamed in the firelight and her pouty mouth was curved in an expression of haughty disdain.

No wonder he had thought she looked like Narcissa with her hair blonde. It was Narcissa's sister. Bellatrix Lestrange.

"You" he growled, rage twisting his stomach at he recognized her.

If he had had any doubt it was in fact her they would have been banished by the high crazy laugh that left her lips. It sent a shiver down his spine.

"Long time no see… Itty Bitty Potter" she said mockingly, smirking at him.

"I thought Molly had killed you" he said through gritted teeth, glaring at her.

"Sorry to disappoint you… but I'm a little harder to kill than that cousin of mine" she purred.

He tugged furiously at the chains binding his wrist, itching to wrap his hands around her slender white throat. She snickered as he struggled to get free, doing nothing but scraping the skin of his wrists.

"You're not going anywhere Potter" she smirked as she walked up to him. She nudged the chains with her foot. "These are spelled" she purred.

He couldn't help his eyes wandering up the line of her leg, up her body, finally resting on her face.

Even though he hated her, even though he would have dearly liked to hurt her for what she had done to Sirius, even though she had knocked him out and tied him up… he could not help but notice her beauty. He had always had a twisted fascination with her. And he hated her all the more for it.

She smiled sadistically as she saw that look on his face, that look that was half lust, half loathing.

He flinched as her foot brushed his inner thigh. She smirked as he gave her a look that said 'what the hell are you doing?' She felt him stiffen as her toes brushed his cock through his jeans.

She heard his hiss of breath as her toes slowly rubbed him, teasing him through the rough fabric.

He tried to pull away but all that did was trap him between her and the wall.

She pressed her toes down firmly, sending an almost painful jolt of pleasure through him. He barely stopped a groan escaping his lips

"Get off me you crazy bitch" he snarled.

A rather angry look passed over her face. Then she smiled maliciously. He yelped in pain as she ground her foot hard into where it would hurt most.

"It doesn't pay to antagonize me Potter" she purred as he shot her a look of deepest loathing.

Bella smirked at him and got down to her knees. Desire and disgust mingled on his face again as she crawled across him, moving so her body was above his.

Being so close to her… wanting to touch her but hating the part that wanted to… and knowing he couldn't touch her… was torture. And he could tell from her smug, decidedly lascivious expression that she was enjoying his agony.

He felt soft lips brush the side of his neck and tried to think of something else besides the closeness of her body and the feeling of her mouth on his skin.

Harry felt her fingers deftly undoing the buttons of his shirt as her lips traced the line of his neck. He couldn't help his traitorous body reacting as she kissed, licked and nipped her way slowly down his torso. And all the while he fervently wished he could hate was she was doing to him.

He tried to concentrate on something else… anything else. Anything that would stop him giving the witch he most hated a reaction. But he knew he was fighting a losing battle with his body. His mind may not be able to ignore who and what she was but his body could. Could betray him even as he tried his best not to show her how much she was getting to him.

The sound of her undoing his zipper got his attention. He looked down to see her, kneeling between his legs, smirking all over her face.

He looked at her. There was no mercy in those dark eyes. Only lust… and the desire to have him completely at her mercy.

Her hands reached inside his jeans, pulling him out of them. Arousal and revulsion fought as he felt her touching him and it didn't take long for arousal to win. His pulse sped up as she teased him with feather light touches.

His whole body stiffened in anticipation as she leaned in…her long dark hair brushing his thighs. He knew what she was going to do… and both wanted it and dreaded it at the same time.

The first flick of her tongue over the very tip of him almost made him gasp.

She smirked as she saw his expression. She knew he hated that it was her that was doing this to him but he couldn't help his body enjoying it.

Couldn't help the involuntary jerk of his hips, the hiss of breath as she slid her lips slowly over the head of him.

Couldn't help his eyes rolling back as the sucked softly then firmly on him.

Couldn't help an almost inaudible moan as she slid her lips slowly down the shaft, taking more of him in her mouth.

Her eyes glittered triumphantly as she sucked hard, tearing another moan from his throat.

Just when he was thinking he couldn't take another moment of exquisite torture she let him fall from her lips.

He watched her get to her feet… finding it hard to think about anything but the fierce ache between his legs.

She pulled up her dress so her legs were exposed and moved so she was straddling him again, legs either side of his thighs

He hated her so much he could have quite happily killed her at that moment. Hated the smug expression she was wearing… hated that she had managed to get a reaction from him… hated that part of him wanted this. But hated most of all that she was going to have her wicked way with him… and there was not a thing he could do to stop it.

Damn her he thought vehemently. Damn her.