A/N: Written for my lovliest friend in the world Gamma Orionis, my AB.
So, this is in exchange for my good days in Azkaban,
thank you so much!
And don't go too hard on me, I tried :)
Bellatrix watched her Lord pace before her, striding the lengths of the room. His anger surged on the air like electricity. It was all that rodent Snape's fault, bothering him with something as minute as half a prophecy. Bella wasn't sure if she should feel gratitude or angry herself. Because of him, her master would finally give into himself.
He was already past yelling and cursing. There really was only one logical solution...
"I have no human weaknesses Bella," he hissed as he circled around her. It was almost in the way that a hunter circles their prey. Bellatrix held back a shiver.
"My Lord." She managed.
"But, I do believe I... require your assistance. Assistance that I couldn't ask of any of the other Death Eaters."
Bella had to refrain from falling to her knees, begging the Dark Lord to take her then and there, on the tiled floor, in the basking moonlight. Maybe he would've liked that, appreciated it more, but Bellatrix couldn't pretend she knew more than she did. It was a sin to assume the Dark Lord's intentions. So she held her ground, loving the way he caressed her neck, smelt her hair. His skeletal hands roamed her body behind her, each falling a little lower than the last.
"I can't say I haven't noticed you a lot more Bella. Noticed you... noticing me." His words bit the wind and broke up the silence settling in the room- clouded by Bella's hard breathing. However kind the words, it only sounded like an insult in his tongue. Bella let the shudder slip.
"Do you not want this? Not feast on your fantasies and hopeless memories? I'm offering you a chance, however slight it may be. I would be wise not to trust a Black."
His canters screamed at her. She wanted to say so much. She remained still. If she was being reprimanded he would not like her to act as though she was being rewarded. Her breath caught in her cut-edge throat as his hands caught her orbs.
A slippery chuckle left his pale lips; wanting to make her wince, but he was just playing. "Relax Bella. You're not in trouble. Or else, should you be?"
"N-no my Lord." She stammered, her voice coming out constricted, as if a snake had her neck in a choke hold. Her corset seemed tighter than usual. The Dark Lord continued his fondling.
She remembered a time long ago, when life was simpler. 'Just keep wishing Bella.' Druella had sighed. 'One day all your dreams will come true.'
Now, as her master moved his hands back to her front- to the ties holding up her gown- she had to thank her lucky stars. In each of her wishes Lord Voldemort had been presented. It wasn't just all fairytales.
"You do not stop me or encourage me. Am I to take this neutrality as reluctance?" Even without looking at him Bellatrix knew a smile broke his face. He only ever smiled when he caused Bella harm.
Without saying a word she guided his hands to the ties and proceeded to yank off her garments, strewing them on the floor. When she'd shed her corset and skirts, he stopped her from taking off her knickers as well.
"Your anxiety is not attractive, be polite. Offer me to do the job I'm going to do nevertheless."
Bellatrix felt her cheeks flush from shame, rather than excitement like it had been prior. She downcast her eyes as her Lord stepped before her and spoke- very clearly and articulate so he could not misinterpret her words, or point out her defaults. "Please undress me my Lord. It would be an intense honor."
She racked her brain for possible faults, but the message was as clear as ever. She wanted him.
She watched his pale hands flutter over her collar bone, her tanned skin making his white ones stand out by contrast. The long fingers groped at her, trailing to her naked breasts. She closed her eyes, hearing her breath like the ocean's waves in her head, and her heart pounding furiously in her chest. For amoment she wondered if the Dark Lord had a beating heart as well- what was it's rate?- but the words burned their way dangerously through her head and she was thankful she'd closed her eyes. How dishonorable to be thinking what he had not permitted. Her heart skipped a beat.
And then he bit at her light pink nubs, tipping her breasts gracefully. She sucked in a gasp, trying not to wriggle despite herself. His mouth, oh the highest honor. She wanted so badly to cut all foreplay, to tell Lord Voldemort it was okay to just give in! But that would be worse then all the mocking he could dish out in the world. He did things at his own pace.
She backed into a wall, solid and holding up her weight. His smooth flawless hands grasping her with such force, roughing her up like a battered tree in the wind. She knew her strengths. He ravished her, feeling her, developing likings for this form of torment. Oh yes.
He rolled her mounds between his hands, in his teeth. She flailed wildly, trapped against the wall and him, fisting her hands on his shoulders. His nibbled became bites that became full on drawing blood. She choked on her scream, relaxing only when he moved away from the bloodied skin, and she moaned in little puffs.
Bella felt her masters tongue, slithery and snake-like, trail her toned stomach, and trace back and forth across her abdomen. His teeth grazed, but he was just playing. She knew that was all he ever did with her.
And his hands were so close to that one place she'd only ever dreamed he would go- he WOULD go. Her breath sucked again, such weak Black lungs, as his claw hitched her knickers. By now his face was directly level with her secret place, her mind running wild even though the real act was right before her eyes. He would, he's almost, he-
That cold, dark laugh that told Bella she'd done something wrong, a childish mistake that was impossible to overlook.
She'd messed up.
And she hadn't even done anything.
Oh. She hadn't even done anything.
"You honestly think, Bella, that I'M going to pleasure YOU. This is convenience." He stood, pacing once again, but not angry. Now he was wistful. His eyes burned behind his demeanor. He was much more than man.
"Bellatrix, you sad being. Tsk. I really expected better from you."
With a tear in her eye she looked down. Her skin stained with blood, her back surging where he'd touched her. She pulled herself off the wall that she'd forgotten was there, and refused to straighten her half-down knickers, or else look more stupid then she already did. The Dark Lord didn't offer second chances.
She was about to leave. To pick up her clothes, beg his indulgence, and race back to Rodolphus so that she could stop feeling so miserable. She would pretend as though the night had never tread this path. But before she could do any of the following her back met stone wall once more.
"I'm not finished with you." He growled, and with as much intentional roughness as he could- which was a lot- he yanked her knickers down fully, revealing a dark mass of wet curls. She tried not to moan as the air whispered across her, but the temptation was too great.
And before she could think the actions he'd planned, he was insider her, and he wasn't even naked or revealing and she couldn't see a thing. But she could feel his long reptilian arousal pounding in and out, curling her toes on the bare ground. His breathing completely calm as she squirmed desirably in his grip, crying out and moaning in time. It stretched her almost painfully, took her further than she'd ever gone but it was GOOD and it was so worthy of him and she couldn't stop thinking about what this meant. That they were connected, and shared something now so intimate. It was territory no one had ever breached before.
How easily they fit, his length sliding in and out, disrupting noises of flesh on less-than-human flesh. But the room was so loud between Bella's thoughts, and dreams, and moans, and breaths. And his eyes, she caught them and wandered. Wandered into days where she'd called his name by her own hand on the bed, in his presence that made her weak in the knees. In the shame of failure and a life of service. And of all of Him.
-That was the earliest memory Bellatrix had of the Dark Lord. And they'd moved so far. Bella stared at the empty Azkaban wall and imagined she could still hear a distant screaming somewhere. Of Voldemort telling her he had no human weakness. And he didn't love her of course, she was play, but she'd been good.
Outside Dementors glided by the bars, trying to suck the happiness out of her, but she had none. She had her master. Her master would come to her, she wasn't used to being away this long.
Bella'd always been taught that if you wish and wish long enough all your dreams would come true.
Maybe the rule didn't apply to nightmares.