Author's Notes:
! IMPORTANT !
Warning: Blatantly rough sex lies ahead. Somewhat light S&M, depending on what you consider light, along with asphyxiation. If you can't handle adult content of this nature, please feel encouraged not to read this one-shot, as you'll likely leave offended. You have been warned.
With that being said...Enjoy!
The Dark Lord had just left the manor and slowly but surely the rest of his loyal followers all began to disapparate from the long dining room table. Severus Snape, as always, was the first to leave after his Master, wasting no time in meaningless parting phrases to any of the death eaters around him. As if feeling a set of eyes burning into him from further down the slick black table, a tall, platinum blonde wizard steered his heavy gaze towards the source. Five seats down the long row of now-emptying chairs sat a pale witch with feral black locks hanging carelessly around her face. It only took one glance to realize at some point, she had been a sure marker for beauty. Her blood status aside, she had been highly desirable, as was her sister. The wizard's eyes lingered on the first witch a moment longer, unmistakably holding her to him in a silently shared thought, before rolling back down the table to the woman sitting directly to his right. They bore a striking resemblance, the two witches, though it ended in their faces. The witch to his right owned smooth, highly maintained blonde hair with only wisps of black strands on the sides. Her skin was as porcelain as the other two, but it held tighter against the structure of her cheeks and jaw line. With a forced smile, she placed her hand over one of his, grasped it firmly for a second, before releasing it entirely in replace for the younger wizard to her side. An exact replica of the older blonde wizard, it was obvious he could be no other than his own son. Though their hair, skin, and facial features all were equally shared amongst the two, there was one undeniable difference. While the son still managed his baby-faced appearance, the feather wore a more weathered, scruffy mask. His hair, though still straight as a pin, had become stringy due to over-exposure to the elements and a lack of strict conditioning. The short blonde stubble traced around his seemingly permanent scowl descended past his jaw line, just below his chin and carrying on briefly down his neck.
His deeply circled eyes, still a crisp light grey in color, flickered back down the table to the dark-haired witch. She had kept her eyes on him, watching as her sister stood from his side with their son and exited the room gracefully. In the same instant, he was gone, left only by a thin veil of black smoke where he had sat. She followed quickly behind, leaving her own puff of menacingly-looking dark vapor.
Seconds later, she reappeared, as if materialized out of thin air, and stood in one of the many abandoned rooms of the Manor. She barely had a moment to glance around the room and take it all in before a force, much larger than her, pushed her backwards. Her body slammed against the door, striking the wood with such momentum that it felt as if the walls surrounding its frame shook right along with it. A pain radiated down her front as she collided with the solid surface, the tender cheekbones on the right side of her face taking the brunt of her rough landing. 'A minor annoyance,' she thought of the pain. Her head still pinned firmly to the door, along with her body, she felt the large hand on the back of her neck, immobilizing her. Suddenly a slightly labored breath tickled at the delicate skin of her left ear, making the loose strands of wild black hair dance over the crook of her neck, just above his fingers. "Bella," he hissed through gritted teeth.
Though it was difficult to gain the mobility needed in her jaw to reply, what with her face still roughly pinned, she smirked and sighed out softly, "Lucius." His strength was overpowering, even without the use of his wand, which he had grown accustom to using as an extension of his arm throughout the years. She could pull out her own wand, she thought idly, as she had numerous times in the past. 'If only to make things more interesting,' she mused as he held her still, controlling her. Slowly, the witch shifted her right hand out from between her torso and the door, heading towards the wand hidden away in her cloak's inner pocket.
His knee jutted forward, striking at the back of her right thigh, producing an almost instant charlie-horse. It stopped her hand, though didn't provide the sound he was hoping for. With a newly-found determination, the wizard repeated the same movement with his opposite knee, landing roughly on the back of her left thigh this time. Involuntarily, her body gave in as the leg weakly folded in on itself, earning him a startled cry from her throat. He grinned, hauntingly satisfied. She would have fallen to the floor, had he not still had his right palm wrapped tightly around her neck from behind. As her body dipped down from the failure of her cramped limb, he pulled her back up, twisting her around to finally face him straight on, though his hand remained on her throat. For a moment, neither moved, simply staring into each other's' eyes to watch the emotions, the hatred spill out. The muscles of his jaw flexed as the corners of his mouth slowly rose, pulling his lips into a sinister grin she would surely recognize. Her movements had been freed, if only slightly, when he turned her around, away from the door. She took the opportunity as her own, reaching up to quickly strike the side of his face with her open palm. Upon contact, the sound echoed through the uninhabited room behind them, causing her to smirk proudly as if the sharp noise sounded for her and her alone.
His response was sudden, calculated. With his free hand, he grabbed at her wrist, tugging it snug against her own back before pressing himself against her again, trapping her hand between her and the door. She squirmed, struggling with her other hand to reach for his face again. The witch managed to get one more strike to land, harder than the first, before his long hand encircled her wrist again and forced it against the door, up beside her head. She was trapped, immobilized again by his unrelenting force. His face lingered inches from her own, the tip of his nose nearly grazing hers as his heavy breathing made it nearly impossible to stay still. "So feisty," he noted, the harsh grumble of his voice vibrating through his chest. She could feel it against her own. "One would think you were denying me, Bella."
He could feel her breathing just as hard as he was, except with her body wedged between his and the door, along with his hand gripped tightly around her throat, he knew she was surely having a harder time of it than he was. She struggled, pushing her face forward as she snapped her jaw shut like a piranha. Though he pulled his head back in time to avoid the full effect she was aiming for, his bottom lip did get grazed in the assault. "I'll bite you," she warned, a darkened smirk traced over the bottom half of her face.
The blonde-haired wizard flicked out his tongue, dragging it over his bottom lip, before pulling it back inside his mouth. It tasted of iron and rust, mixed with a small bead of sweat that had gathered in the stubble around his lips. He breathed out a relieved chuckle disguised as a sigh and stared down at her pouted lips. "You do know how I like it, don't you?" He praised her seductively, drawing his wounded lip closer to hers. "Would you like a taste?" Before he had finished his offer, she had begun to pull closer to him, taking the small amount of slack he had provided from the grip around her neck, and then some. He stopped her, abruptly tightening his fingers around her neck and holding her back against the door. "Gentle," he warned, his eyes flickering up quickly from her lips to her deep brown orbs. They had grown wild, untamed over the years, but she knew he couldn't resist staring into them as he dominated her physically. It was the one last scrap of control she managed to keep for herself during their private interactions. Pulling at an innocence he knew she would never possess, she allowed her lids to flutter for a second, signaling her understanding silently. It had been established years ago that she couldn't form audible words when he held her throat so tightly, not without causing more damage to the tender muscles than she was sure he was already doing.
Still hesitant of her unpredictable habits, he kept his hand firmly at her neck as he leaned in closer. Slowly, the fingers of his hand loosened their hold just enough to allow her to reach the rest of the way towards him, catching his lips with hers. She tasted bitter, he noted. She always tasted bitter, no matter where they had come from or what she had just eaten. 'Like the last breath of a cigarette,' he thought as the memory of a muggle smoker they had slaughter together prickled at his subconscious. As if enthused by the recollection, he took a step forward, thrusting his right knee between her legs, forcing them apart. It only made their orally fixated connection deepen, becoming rougher and more animalistic. That was her doing. She was like a caged beast, only reaching her full potential when he allowed her the liberty to do such.
His hand dropped from her wrist, leaving her arm to fall forward onto his shoulder before wrapping around the back of his neck, pulling his face closer to hers. She knew what was coming; it was one of the few reasons she continued to wear the long black dress-style robes despite serving the Dark Lord. A more traditionally masculine set of robes would be easier to maneuver in, whilst fulfilling the Dark Lord's work, though the long skirt she wore instead provided easier access for moments such as this. She had tried slacks in the past, but the task of repairing the torn fabric after Lucius was done with her became nothing more than an unwanted chore.
Pushing aside the long length of the heavy skirt, his free hand slipped beneath it, making quick work of the thin undergarment below. She hissed in a breath, hardly parting their lips at all. He lifted his chin superiorly, pulling his head back far enough to get a clear view of her eyes. They were on fire, her lips still left parted as the fist around her throat pulled tighter on her flesh. It made him smile to see the slight panic slowly set in over her face as her air supply became smaller and smaller by the second. Though he had been tempted on occasion to let her go further, just to see how long she could last, he had always loosened his grip eventually. 'Perhaps that's the only reason she hasn't tried reaching for her wand again…yet,' he thought deviously. Teasingly pulling his hand away from her skirt, he watched the pained impatience wash over her eyes and grinned. "Patience, Bella," he warned, letting the soft vowels of her name trail off of his tongue.
As he abandoned her garments, his hand shifted over to his own clothes, slowly undoing the restraints of his trousers with his one free hand. As the weight of his engorged member pulled down at the fly of his pants, he couldn't deny that Bella wasn't the only impatient one in the room tonight. With his body pinning her firmly against the door, his left hand at the base of his erect organ, and his right still holding her steady by the throat, he waited. Slowly, his left hand stroked up the length before grazing back down, and repeated the movement as his grip tightened just below her jaw line. 'Come on,' he encouraged silently, staring into her eyes, watching the panic continue to grow. His lips curled back over his teeth, bearing them as he scowled in front of her, waiting for her to react. 'Come on…'
She had taken as much as she could, hissing in the last short breath that she could manage through her blocked airway. Taking in the panic in her eyes like a drug, he breathed out heavily and clenched the muscles of his jaw into a sadistic grin. "Good girl," the words growled out like a curse, but he knew it was exactly what she had been waiting for. Like a wild panther, the hand resting on his shoulders pulled back around to his front, slashing at his neck and arm as she tried to get him to loosen his grip on her throat. Quickly positioning himself underneath her long skirt, now hiked up around her waist carelessly, he waited until she clawed at the back of his hand with her nails, digging a deep line into his skin. As the stinging pulsed through his hand, his grip weakened slightly, just long enough for him to sink her down onto his throbbing shaft. He released her throat entirely, shifting his hand instead to her shoulder as he forced himself into her. She gasped in a sudden breath, choking on the air as her lungs tried to handle the rushing flow down her windpipe. It made her tighten around him, contracting as he thrust in and out of her slick opening quickly.
In an effort to deepen his reach, his hand hooked her right leg and lifted it up off the ground, pulling it against his side just above his hip. As the first enthralling grunt escaped from her, he knew she had regained her breath. Taking the opportunity before he would need his other hand, Lucius grabbed at her face, cupping her chin against his palm as his fingers pressed against her cheeks. She moaned at the sudden assault, in combination with the continued attention on her womanly center. His lips moved over hers, grazing them softly before running his tongue over the exact same spot aggressively, possessively. Before she could return a proper, passionate kiss, he pulled his hand away quickly and hooked her other leg, pulling it up to the other side of his waist in one rough jerk.
Her body sunk down lower, penetrating herself further on top of his length. As her weight transferred nearly completely over to him, he wrapped his arms around her back, giving her clearance to pull her arms back onto his broad shoulders. His hands slid down her upper back as he positioned his forearms flat against the thick wooden door behind her for additional support. Her legs twisted behind his back, pulling his pants further down his backside as she locked her ankles together. Their exchange of passion-driven grunts and moans had interrupted the earlier silence of the abandoned room. The wizard thrust into her, again and again, driven by the animalistic noises she was making right beside his ear, along with the way her nails dug into the porcelain skin of his shoulders and back. It wasn't until he had felt her first start to tighten and spasm around him, both internally and with the force of her legs around his waist, that he too began to unwind. The dark-haired witch let out a throaty moan just as his last few strokes drove into her, filling her fully as he reached his final release seconds after her.
They remained interlocked, the sweat sprinkled evenly over their freshly marked bodies. Slowly, he dropped her legs. They felt like rubber as she stood on her own, still using the door and surrounding walls for support just in case they decided to fail her. With a quick graze of his lips over her flushed cheek, Lucius stepped back, away from the door and the witch, and began to straighten his robes. Equally as abrupt, Bella shook out her skirt and let it fall back into place over her long, pale legs, pulling it down to the appropriate length. A minute passed as they reassembled their appearances, as if none of it had ever happened, before the two reunited beside the door. Lucius brought his hand up to her face, gently lifting her chin with two fingers to examine the fresh bruises on her long neck. "Beautiful, Bella." His fingers trailed down, past her jaw line and over the marked flesh with morbid fascination.
She reached up to grab his hand and turned it over. The blood from the scratches she had gouged into him was beginning to dry, and his cheeks were still burning a bright pink color from her strikes against him, but her eyes seemed to gaze over this condition with a sense of merit and left-over lust. "When will I see you again?" She asked as he pulled his hand away to reach for his wand. Once out, he returned his fingers just below her chin, lifting her head to display her neck more readily.
His wand hovered over the bruises carefully, gradually causing them to fade away until nothing was left except her pale, unmarked skin. "At dinner, tonight. As always," he replied, turning the wand on himself as he began to close the wound on the back of his hand.
Bella frowned and drew her own wand, working on the scratches scattered over his shoulders, back and neck as he finished with his hand. "You know what I mean, Lucius." Her pout had returned.
When all was back in place and both bodies free of any unwanted evidence of their dark affair, Lucius brought his hand back up to her face and softly ran the knuckles of his index finger against her puckered bottom lip, making her smile impulsively. "Soon."
ANs: As previously stated, this was only a one-shot, just something that's been pestering me for a while, so I decided to finally jot it down. Be sure to review.
xoxo WildBubblesRoam