The bruises, scratches, welts- they never mattered. Love was love, and Rita was trapped in its cold tight grasp.
Blue eyes flicker in dim candlelight, more to hide the ugly war scars than romance. Rita writhes beneath a dark creature's touch, unable to escape, though not wanting to get away either.
Bellatrix, she hisses repulsive things in Rita's ear when she does this, when she comes in the night to ruin her. Her nails rip at soft flesh and her fingers get Rita to a high she couldn't get enough of, searing and fast and irresistible, and she couldn't think of anything else but coming then, nor this creature with magnificent tufts of black hair.
"Please fuck me,"
Bellatrix uses her mouth, hot and wet on Rita's cunt, making her skin prickle and hair stand on end. She licks and sucks and bites; Rita whimpers and moans and cries.
Rita begs for it, and Bellatrix tells her to.
Here, Rita is belittled, she lets it be, and she likes it.