Narcissa had been fussing over her for the better part of a week, or so Bellatrix had been told when she woke up nearly three days after The Dark Lord had freed her from Azkaban. From the living nightmare she had been trapped in for almost fifteen years. Exhaustion had taken pity on her weak and frail body, letting her sleep dreamlessly for the first time in so long she had forgotten what real rest felt like.
The first thing she asked for when she woke on the forth day was Rodolphus, where was he, was he alright, where was he, where was he, where was he..? She wanted him, needed him. A dull throbbing ache in her chest, a hole there waiting to be filled by him but she was told he too needed rest like he did and it had been advised they stay apart.
The Dark Lord honoured her with his presence on the fifth day, kissing her hand, telling her how proud he was of her, that she was his most faithful, his most loyal, it felt her feeling warmer than she had in over a decade, but still she craved her husband's warm body pressed to her own, just to sleep with him, to have him hold her, it brought tears to her eyes and on the sixth day she cried for him in her sisters arms, long and hard tears, Narcissa held her, rocked her and cooed to her but it wasn't enough, she cried herself to sleep.
On the seventh day, the bedroom doors opened making her jump and sit up from where she had been laying on her side in a dozing state, Narcissa's healing spells had drained them both but Bella, being a Black and being as vain as the blonde witch herself, had begged and pleaded for her sister to make her pretty again, so against her better judgement, the younger witch had relented, polishing, fixing, sculpting, mending all that was broken and Bella now looked almost as she had before she had been incarcerated, only there was a haunted look in her eyes that hadn't been there before, her body was thin, too thin, ribs and hips, collar bones all poked through too pale skin, but it was nothing time wouldn't heal.
She stared at him with those haunted eyes now softer, less hunted, he stood in the doorway and stared back, she was beautiful, perfect, Bella, his Bella, his. It was Narcissa who broke the moment, standing from the chair she had been sitting in next to the four poster bed, "Rodolphus…" She began but he cut her off with a low growl.
"I don't give a fuck, I've waited too long, I want to see my wife and you, nor anyone else is going to stop me." Rodolphus left no room for arguments and Bella was already half out of the bed but her legs were weak and she almost fell but he caught her, she'd not seen him move but he was here, and she was in his arms and he was holding her tightly to his chest, breathing her in, his hands all over her, feeling, caressing, loving. "My Bella. My little scorpion. My beautiful Bella."
Narcissa left them then, she didn't dare get in between lovers who had been forced to stay apart for so long, lovers who were already drowning in one another. The doors closed on them and they were alone.
"Rod.. I missed you.. I missed you so much, no one would let me see you, I wanted too.. but I couldn't.." They were words spoken between breathless kisses, his hands on her face, stroking down her neck, fingers lingering on the Azkaban tattoo making her momentarily pull away but he pulled her back to him, holding her tighter, possessiveness in his eyes.
"I'll kill them all for what they did to you, you're mine, no one lays hands on what's mine. My Bella." And he was on her again, picking her up and laying her back on the bed as gently as if she was a new born kitten, "Baby, I've missed you. I've missed you so much."
She didn't think she would ever be aroused again, not after what the wardens had done to her, raping her as punishment, raping her to assert power over her, raping her because they could and she was helpless to stop them. He had seen it, they'd made him watch, not every time, but enough times that he had seen the broken look in her eyes when she cried in pain and humanisation. She didn't think she'd ever want to be touched that way again, not even by him, but by God was she wrong, her body was singing for him, longing long forgotten making itself known in her hardened nipples an the throbbing between her legs, her hands in his hair pulling him back to break the kiss, eyes searching his, "You still want me?"
Rodolphus was already stripping her, hands running all over her body which was thinner now, but just as beautiful, his fingers tracing scars left by the wardens whips and canes, her back was a criss cross patten of old and new alike, a jagged silver scar on her rib cage, anger rose him like molten fire, how dare they, how dare they leave maim her, how dare they.. but her voice cut through the fog and he looked at her looking at him, uncertainty in her eyes. "More than ever, baby." and he did, to him she was even more beautiful now than she had been before, now she was marked as a warrior, a battle hardened soldier like him. They were a perfect match as they had always been.
He bowd his head, dipped down past her throat, past her breasts, bending to her side. Laying his lips there, where her ribs pressed against her flesh, and kissed her with a tenderness that was new. Murmured something she can't make out and Bella melts, all hesitation gone, all the shyness she felt at him seeing her like she was now, half the person, he still wanted her and it rose a fire in her she'd not felt in long years.
Slowly, delicately, he kissed her there, just above her hip and paused to run the tip of his tongue over her flesh. Warmth raced through her and she gaspd out a harsh sound of pleasure as fine points of heat penetrate her flesh. Her nipples are hard pebbles and her clit is suddenly swollen, pushing out into the cool air. Her flesh fills with blood and heat, growing and parting, opening for him. She craves him there, mouth and hands and cock.
An empty vessel, waiting to be filled. To be whole.
She twined her arms around him with a sigh. His cock is just nudging into her, gradually making a path, until finally he's buried inside her to the hilt, grinding against her, He alternates between slow, rhythmic strokes and fucking her harder than anyone's ever fucked her in her life, there is only a stream of climaxes, one after another, rising unbidden with a hastening momentum of their own. The sheets are drenched and sodden beneath her and her cries of pleasure reverberate off the walls, and through it all his cock is filling her, making her complete, complete because she's his and his alone, it doesn't matter what they did to her, she was never theirs, never gave herself to anyone but him.
When finally, he spills over inside her, he holds her close and brings her down, murmuring approval into her hair, his cock still twitching against her. There are tears of joy in her eyes and his seed is comforting and warm inside her
He presses his lips into her hair, he's panting out her name, telling her he loves her that he'll never let anyone hurt her again, never let anyone touch her because she's his and his alone.
They sleep face to face, her head tucked under his chin, his arms wrapped protectively around her small frame, he would die for her, kill for her, and he will, no one touches what is his and lives for long. My Bella.