A/N: So, this story takes place sometime in the 6th book as Draco is trying to find a way to kill Dumbledore. Voldemort is presumably too busy to ask after his progress, and so he recruits Bellatrix Lestrange to ask Lucius...

One-shot, smut, lemons... what's not to love? Enjoy!

"Bella, Bella," came the soft voice from the nearby darkness. Bellatrix Lestrange spun in the direction it came from and bowed deeply, her eyes on the ground.

"My lord," she whispered, voice husky.

"Bella, my most faithful servant. I require the usage of your most... specialized services this evening."

"For yourself, my lord?" Bellatrix said, her eyes glittering in the dim light filtering through the windows.

"No, Bella, though I am gratified by how willingly you would offer yourself to me. It is for another that I need you tonight. Lucius Malfoy has been acting... less than satifactorily of late. He has failed to report to me the progress of his son within Hogwarts, and Severus is otherwise occupied at the present time. I wish you to... observe him, and report to me what transpires. He would let you willingly into his home, I think."

"Observe him?" Bellatrix said, her lips quirking up in a smile.

"Whatever you deem necessary, Bella," Voldemort said, stepping out of the shadows. "I trust your judgement in these matters. You know I do," he said, tracing one long, pale finger over her full lips. Bella smiled, images racing through her mind. She would enjoy this assignment.

Lucius Malfoy was bored, as usual. Narcissa was busy chatting with Mr. and Mrs. Uninteresting Deatheater. Lucius sat back in his plush black leather armchair and watched her idly. She wore a pale pink silk gown, nearly as pale as her skin. Her hair was white-blonde, her eyes a nearly colorless gray, and her lips were nothing interesting. Her body was nearly straight up and down, her breasts could barely fill his hands. He was bored of his pristine life, of his pale, perfect wife, of their carefully manicured home. He wanted something exciting. Something exotic.

His eyes were caught by the only splash of color in the sea of Narcissa's equally vanilla-and-cream friends. Bellatrix Lestrange was standing at the top of the stairs leading down to the main ballroom of the manor, on hand resting on a jutting hip, the other casually twirling her wand. Her lips were painted a deep bloodred, the color that had origianlly attracted his attention. She wore a black silk cocktail dress, but it was unlike the drab black spinster-like gowns worn by those around him. Hers was cut low, almost to her navel, and it scooped low down her back. The thin silk barely covered the swell of her breasts. Lucius could see her chest heaving under her gown from across the room, and it created a fimiliar sort of tingling somewhere below his belt. Bellatrix, scanning the crowd slowly, caught his eye and winked one dark, smoldering eye. Her hair, haphazardly piled on her head, was caught on the breeze as she lifted an edge of her skirt and walked slowly down the stairs. As she moved, the thigh-length slit of her skirt parted, and Lucius's throat went dry as he glimpsed the top of her fishnet garters on the white skin of her leg. Her luscious lips curved upward as she caught him staring at her, and she made her way over to him, the crowd parting before her unconsciously. Her gown swished around her feet as she walked, and Lucius leaned back in his arm chair as she approached him. She put her hands on the arms of his chair and leaned forwards, affording Lucius a scenic view down the deep v of her dress.

"See something you like, Lucius?" Bellatrix asked, blinking up through her lashes at him, her voice heavy with sarcasm.

"Why, my dearest sister-in-law," Lucius said, smirking at her. "What in the world are you implying?" he purred, as if he didn't know.

"No idea," she smirked, leaning closer and flicking her eyes down to the noticeable bulge in his trousers. He swallowed dryly, changing the subject.

"What brings you here to my humble home tonight?"

"I have an all-access pass to little shindigs like this," Bellatrix said, peeling her elbow-length black silk opera gloves back to reveal the dark mark etched into the skin of her left forearm. "Especially those thrown by my darling sister." She plucked at a loose thread from Lucius's robes with a red-painted fingernail. "But tonight I came to see you."

"Oh yes?" Lucius said, raising an eyebrow at her. Her face was still far too close to his. He could smell the musky perfume of her breath, count the dark lashes framing her smoldering eyes. "Whatever for?"

"Maybe I miss your... stimulating company," she said, placing one hand on the bulge in his trousers and pressing lightly for a moment. Lucius bit back a sharp gasp, and her smile grew wider. "Want to dance?" She whispered, and, without waiting, grabbed his hand from where it was clenched, white-knuckled, on his armrest. She pulled him out to the middle of the floor, placed one well-manicured hand on his shoulder, and leaving the other in his hand. He automatically rested one hand on her lower back as she began to sway, feeling th shock of her bare skin beneath his hands like a physical blow. He could feel the muscles moving beneath her skin as he spun her over the dance floor. He could feel the firmness of her breasts pushing against his chest as she pressed herself to him. His pale blue eyes, silvery in the light from the chandelier, never left her nearly black ones. As the music ended, she slipped from his grasp.

"Oh, and how is my darling nephew? I hear he's been given an important assignment at school."

Lucius looked at her, his face as hard as though it had been carved from marble. "He's fine."

"Mmm," Bellatrix said, looking around at the other dancing couples as though she had already forgotten the subject of their conversation. "Well, I'll be in the rose garden if you want me. I've been too long away from this world," Bellatrix murmured, glancing at the chandeliers and parquet floors with a gleam in her eye. "Far too long." And with a wink of her eye and a swish of her skirt, she was gone, lost into the sea of glittering family heirlooms and dowdy wizards.

Lucius tolerated the company of his wife's friends for as long as he could stand it, and then made his way out to the verandah overlooking the spacious grounds of his property. The moon was bright, shedding a silvery light on the world around before him. He caught a glimpse of a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye, behind the high stone wall enclosing the rose garden.

The rose garden... he saw in his mind's eye Bellatrix's pouting red lips, the darkness of her eyes, the undulating of her hips beneath her shimmering black silk gown. Without any conscious thought, Lucius was walking down the wide marble steps towards the gardens. He made his way through the manicured grass, wet with dew, past the still, glassy lake, and finally paused at the arch that led into the walled rose garden. Bellatrix stood still on the pathway, bent over to inhale the scent of a rose. Her long ivory-skinned legs were exposed through the long slit of her dress, and Lucius eyed the firm curve of her bottom beneath the thin silk of her dress. Her eyes were closed as she breathed in the scent of the flower, her lips parted ever so slightly. Lucius imagined her looking like that in his arms, her hair wild around her face, her lips trembling and open, waiting for him...

"Really, Lucius? If you're going to stare, at least have the grace to do it discreetly." Bellatrix had noticed his presence, and he was indeed gawking. Lucius cleared his throat and made to move away from the wall, but Bellatrix was already upon him.

She placed her hands on either side of his head, so he could not escape her without physical contact.

"Do you want me?" she purred, her face millimeters from his. Her eyes glittered in the moonlight, and her long eyelashes cast dark shadows down her face. Her lips were near his, so near...

"I'm married to your sister," Lucius replied, his voice harsh – harsher than he'd intended it to be.

"That doesn't answer my question," she replied, her lips curving up in a smile. "Do you want me? Do you want to pin me against this wall... run your hands all over my body... do the things that Narcissa would never let you do to her?" Bellatrix plucked one of his hands from where it rested idly by his side and placed it below her hip, on the patch of bare skin above the top of her garter. Lucius was frozen, seemingly petrified, unable to either advance or run away. He was helpless under the eyes of the tigress bfore him.

Bellatrix grabbed his other hand and drew it up her body. She guided him across her abdomen, across her ribcage, and then to rest on one heaving breast. The reality of her firm warmth under the thin silk, the hardness of hr nipple beneath his hand, seemed to jolt him to life. He snatched his hands away from her body, pushing past her to a place where the air wasn't saturated with her scent and he could think clearly. She smirked at him, licking her bottom lip with the darting tip of her tongue.

"Problems, Lucius?" she said, barely containing the mirth in her voice.

"You know quite well what my problem is, Miss Lestrange," Lucius said, drawing himself up stiffly, but he was still gasping from th reality of her soft skin under his fingers.

"Ooh, 'Miss Lestrange,' is it, Lucius? Dear, dear, how very formal. But please, clarify for me... what is the problem with you and I?"

"First, there is no 'you and I.' we are not a couple, nor ever will be. Second, we are both married, I to your sister, and you to Rodolphus. Would you really cast away both a sister's bond of love and your marriage over some bodily urge that you could just as easily rid yourself of with your lawful husband?" Lucius huffed.

"What are sisterly bonds? Narcissa could never give me this." Bellatrix placed her palms flat on Lucius's chest and shoved him down onto the dewy grass, placing one knee on his chest to restrain him, and with that, she leaned down and pressed her lips savagely to his.

She was everywhere at once, dark and terrifying and yet deliciously seductive. He could smell her scent, something dark and mysterious that was entirely unique to her. Her lips were soft and hard all at once, her teeth nipping his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood.

She felt him soften under her touch, allowing his lips to mold to hers, his fingers to wind themselves in her hair. But a moment later, he threw her roughly off him. Caught offguard, she sprawled onto the damp lawn, catching herself on the palms of her silk-gloved hands. Her hair was falling out of its updo, although it had never been fully contained in the first place.

Lucius jerked upright and tugged his robes properly back into place. He ran his hands over his blonde hair, smoothing it back into place, and glared down his nose at the witch before him.

"I find your actions deplorable, sister-in-law. I expect nothing of this nature to ever happen again." Without another word, he turned on his heel and stalked back up to the lights of the mansion and the faint strains of music filtering out of the open french doors of the verandah.

Bellatrix lay still on the grass for a moment, a small smile on her lips. After a moment, she stood up, not bothering to fix her hair or the dew-wet grass clinging to her skin.

"We'll just see about that."

Lucius sat down on the voluminous bed he and Narcissa shared. She was already under the covers, her head turned away from him. Still feeling aroused from his brief encounter with her sister, he reached around her to clasp her breasts in his hands, only to be rudely rebuffed as she slapped his hands away.

"Get off me, you foul excuse of a man. If you think you can abuse my body any more to satisfy your bestial urges, then think again." Lucius was startled by the biting tone of voice and her harsh words – his wife had never before spoken to him like that.

'What are you-"

"Oh, don't even try to deny it, Lucius! I can smell her on you!"

"How-"

"My god, Lucius! I shared a home with Bellatrix for eleven years of my life, and then a dorm with her for another six years after that. Do honestly think I don't recognize her scent? Do you think I didn't notice when you marched in from the garden looking all hot and bothered, with your dick practically hanging out of your pants and grasstains on your ass? No, you foul idiot, you won't be getting any from me, so you might as well go find my whore of a sister and fuck her."

Narcissa's yes were glittering in the light of the lamp by the bedside, and Lucius was reminded of another pair of glittering eyes. Not clear and blue as Narcissa's were, but dark and burning with some inner fire. Her rich, mysterious eyes, coming closer to him in the perfumed darkness of the rose garden...

Narcissa made a noise of angry derision deep in her throat, and turned away, extinguishing the lamp with a flick of her wand. She subsided back under the blankets, the barrier of her exposed back between them as effective as a steel wall. Lucius reached out a tentative hand, but stopped short of actually touching her, and lay down, his eyes open in the darkness. It would be a long night.

Two hours later, Lucius was still lying awake in bed, in stunned silence. He had never heard Narcissa say so much as "bloody hell," let alone the words she had spewed at him not two hours before. He had never seen her cry, never show any true emotion, not even when she married him, not when they made love for the first time, not when she held their child after his birth. And yet now her eyes flashed with passion, her words were like venom, and he knew things would never be the same.

He finally gave up on sleep and pushed himself out of the bed. Narcissa's blonde hair spilled over the pillow, white in the moonlight, and her eyes were closed, but Lucius knew she wasn't asleep. He crept from the room and down to the private parlor. He picked up a glass from a small lacquered table by the long velvet drapes and poured himself a glass of firewhisky. He stood looking out at the expansive grounds, sipping the whisky and trying to think of nothing, and yet thinking of everything. His gaze skimmed over the moonlit lake, the dark shadow of the forest in the distance, the elaborate wrought-iron gate shaped like twining snakes, the high walls and arches of the rose garden.

A quiet noise behind him brought his wandering mind back to where he was. It was the soft creak of an otherwise silent tread, but for the aging wood beneath the antique carpets of the manor. A woman, he decided.

"I know you're there. We need to talk," Lucius said without turning around.

"Do we now?" came the laughing, sultry voice. Lucius spun around, and it was not the pale angelic face of his wife that he saw, as he had expected, but her rather more sinister sister. He tried to cover his surprise, but faltered as she dropped the long black cloak she had been wearing to the floor, revealing her outfit to him

She was wearing black, of course, but then he had never seen her in anything else. The perfect whitness of her breasts were barely contained by a leather corset laced up the front with straining black ribbons. A skimpy black thong rested over her angular hips, and thin black lace garters attatched to the bottom of her corset held up her black fishnet thigh-high stockings. Her perfectly formed calves tapered down into patent leather stilletto ankle-boots. Her eyes were unfathomable in the deep shadows cast by the flickering fire roaring from behind the hearth.

Bellatrix dropped the cloak to the floor, leaving it like a puddle of shadow on the floor. Lucius's mouth went dry, and he dimly heard the shattering of his glass of firewhisky as it slipped from his lifeless hand. Bellatrix smirked and, placing one foot almost daintily in front of the other, walked towards him. Something in her eyes made Lucius take a step back. She was like a panther, stalking towards him, her eyes glittering in the semidarkness and her teeth bared in a feral smile.

Lucius saw her eyes rake over his body and realized uncomfortably that he had forgotten to put on a robe. He was wearing only a pair of emerald green silk pajama bottoms, his chest left bare. And without a robe to cover himself, he knew that his arousal, bulging against the thin silk of his pants, would be painfully obvious to anyone in the vicinity. Which, at the moment, consisted of his sister-in-law.

"I knew you wouldn't be able to sleep," Bellatrix purred. "I knew you would be thinking. Thinking about what happened, earlier, in the garden. And I knew you would want more. A taste is never enough."

"Actually," Lucius said, trying futiley to maintain his composed and icy demeanor, "Narcissa and I were discussing matters."

"Discussing matters!" Bellatrix laughed, her voice shrill with derision. "I heard your 'discussion,' along with the rest of house, I'd bet. Who knew my baby sister could be so... fiesty?" She chuckled, tapping his bare chest with a long fingernail. "But I'd bet that you were left wanting. And she practically gave us her permission, so..." Grinning, she grabbed the bulge in Lucius's pants, raking her nails gently down the single layer of silk between his hot length and her hand. Lucius forgot how to breathe for a moment, and then ducked away from her, putting a good five meters between himself and the woman currently prowling after him.

"So," Lucius said, coughing dryly, "Why are you... dressed so... fancily?" he finished lamely, unable to come up with a suitable ajective for her getup.

"Oh, you never know what might come up after hours," she said wickedly, glancing pointedly at his erection tenting against his bottoms.

"Bellatrix, this is not appropriate. My wife is asleep upstairs, and you... you shouldn't even be here!"

"Oh, shouldn't I?" she said. "And as for Narcissa... it's not like she hasn't had a little something on the side now and then."

"How the hell would you know something like that?" Lucius said, his body going rigid. It did explain things...

"My god, Lucius, I am her sister. She confides in me as we braid each other's hair and paint our toenails." The sarcasm in her voice was nearly tangible. Lucius tood a swipe at her, expecting her to leap nimbly out of the way like the cat she was, but his palm connected with her shoulder and she fell to the floor, pulling him with her. He saw the glint in her eyes and realized that she had purposefully taken the blow in order to get him horizontal, but by the time the realization hit, she was on top of him, straddling his naked torso.

He could see the muscles of her white thighs in stark definition as she spread her legs over his abdomen, her smooth flesh rubbing sensually against his muscled stomach. His head fell back onto the hardwood floor. She rocked her hips slowly aginst him, and he gasped as he felt the firmness of her pelvic bone against him.

"I'll ask you again, Lucius," Bellatrix said, leaning over him so that her lips were inches away from his, and her dark hair curtained the world off from them in a wild tangle. "Do you want me?"

"Yes. You know I do. But it's not right. It's not right to Narcissa, to Rodolphus, to Draco, who looks up to us -" his words were cut off by a hard laugh from Bellatrix.

"Not right! Firstly, Narcissa and Rodolphus need us about as much as we need them, which is not at all. And right? You're concerned about right? You, the man who has killed dozens of witches and wizards, and tortured countless muggles to the brink of insanity? You, the man who abandoned a newborn child and post-partem depressed wife in order to pursue the Dark Lord after his fall from power? You who has never had any thought for right or wrong, only for the purposes of personal gain and glory, and now you-" She was rudely interupted as Lucius grabbed her head in his hands and kissed her harshly, brutally. He flipped her over before she could respond, pinning her down with a knee placed between her breasts. She struggled in vain for a moment, and then looked up into his face. His eyes were burning, a smoky blue that seemed to pierce through her skin to see what was beyond, in the deepest reaches of her soul. His blond hair hung around his face, escaping from where it had been tied back in a black ribbon. His breath burst from between his teeth, labored with a combination of fury and arousal. Bellatrix could smell a combination of whiskey and his own particular scent on his breath. It intoxicated her.

Lucius looked down at Bellatrix, laid out beneath him as Nercissa had never allowed him. Bellatrix's untamable hair was spread out in wild ringlets beneath her head, haloing her face. Her stark cheekbones were softened by th flush spreading across them. Her pupils were large and dark, and, as always, her eyes held as much mystery to Lucius as the deep reaches of outer space. Bellatrix's lips were crimson, glistening in the flickering light, and he knew he had passed the point of no return.

He brought his mouth down to hers, slowly at first, and then with an increasing urgency as her scent wafted over him. She was dark, she was fiery, she was passion itself.

His fingers tore at the laces of her corset savagely, until, with a moan, she freed herself of the garment. Bringing his mouth down on one hard rosy nipple, Lucius sucked her smooth flesh into his mouth, nipping gently, marking her with his teeth. She shrieked a little as he bit her, but Lucius knew that it was desire making her cry out for him. Lucius pressed himself back to her, the feeling of his bare skin rubbing against hers bringing their lips back together with renewed urgency. He kneaded one of her breasts in his long white fingers as his tongue invaded her mouth. He grazed her full lips with the tip of his tongue, and she moaned and arched up to him, her hardening nipples just grazing his chest. She bit down on his bottom lip, sucking it into her mouth and tasting his essence. He moaned against her and led himself slide aginst her body so that the entirety of his body was pressed against hers. She could feel his harness pressing into her thigh through his pants, and she slowly shifted her weight so that she was once again on top of him. Grinning, she trailed a line of kisses over the muscular planes of Lucius's chest, around his nipples, and down to the thin trail of slightly darker hair that led from his navel downwards. Brushing her tongue softly down it, she laughed as she felt the vibrations of Lucius's deep moan.

Bellatrix grasped the waistband of Lucius's silk pajama bottoms in her teeth and dragged his pants over the planes of his hips and pelvis. Her lips brushed tantalizingly close to his length as she freed him from the confines of his pants, and he arched up from the floor.

Bellatrix sat back on her heels, looking at Lucius Malfoy as he lay on the floor before her. His limbs were long and slender and yet muscular. He had a lean athlete's build, as graceful and somehow as predatory as a lion. His skin shone pearly white in the flickering light of the fire, and a warm blush of arousal tinged his skin the palest pink. Smiling, Bellatrix trailed one finger lightly up the inside of his ankle. She traced up the inner part of his calf, and up the whiteness of his muscular thigh. She finally stroked once down his hard, hot length, and his body spasmed beneath her. She closed her lips around him, her tongue darting down and around his length to taste him. Lucius closed his eyes and his hips thrust automatically up into her mouth. As the warm wetness of her mouth enveloped him, he looked down at her. She was on her knees, hands braced on either side of his hips, and she was looking up as him as her crimson lips corved around the base of his length. She winked at him once, her dark eyes sparkling with some unspoken mirth. Lucius arched up against her, and nearly lost himself in her as she stroked the tender skin behind his hot length.

"Enough," he growled, pulling her roughly up to him and flipping her over. Her breath left her with a sharp huff as he pressed her down to the floor. He savagely tore her black thong away from her body. It left red lines in her skin as the strings snapped and broke, but she didn't cry out. Bellaxtrix locked her ankles, still in her stiletto boots, around Lucius's narrow hips. He slid his body against hers until he was postitioned above her, and savagely thrust into her. Bellatrix cried out once, grabbing the sides of Lucius's face in both her hands and arching up to bring hr lips to hers. He pounded his hips into hers, her breath bursting from her lips and wafting over his face. He could smell the musky dark scent of her, so different from the sweet perfume of her sister. He watched as Bellatrix undulated under him, the peaks of her breasts pushing up against his chest and then falling away again as she was lost in the rhythm of his movements. She was tight and hot around him, slick in a way that Narcissa had never been, and he tasted blood as slowly clenched her muscles around his hard, burning length, her eyes glittering before being hidden from him as she threw her head back. He pushed into her faster, faster, and her moans grew louder, her white teeth stark against the redness of her lips as she bit down on her own plump flesh. The only sounds in the room were the crackle of the fire, the soft moans and the breath coming hard and fast from between Lucius's teeth, the soft slide of skin against skin.

Bellatrix felt the hard heat of him inside her, filling her, stretching her. Rodolphus had always been cold, detached as he used her body for his pleasure. Lucius was pure, icy heat. He reached one hand into the gap between their bodies and brushed his narrow fingers against the point where their bodies joined, and without warning Bellatrix screamed, her muscles clenching and rolling around him and her fingers digging hard into the soft white skin of his backside as she pulled him hard and deep into her.

The sudden strength with which she drew him into her was too much for Lucius, and with a deep rumbling moan he lost himself into her. He collapsed onto the hard wood next to her, his pulse thundering through his veins and his skin cold as his sweat cooled. Bellatrix pushed herself up and knealt over him. Her skin glimmered softly in the dying firelight and the curling black tendrils of her hair cast strange shadows over both of them.

She leaned down and darted her tongue out like a cat, tasting a drop of perspiration that had gathered just below his ear. He shivered at her touch, his body reacting to her raw sensuality. She smirked and stood up. Picking up her wand from where it had been left by her discarded corset, she transfigured Lucius's silk pajama bottoms into a black silk robe and put it on. Lucius propped himself up on his elbows and watched her with hooded eyes as she gathered up her discarded clothing. He could see the peaks of her nipples and the curves of her hips beneath the thin silk, and felt a familiar desire consume his body. He was still watching her when she stalked over to him and and placed on foot on either side of his hips so she was standing over him, her hair a wild mass around her face and her red lips curved in a mocking smile. She wove her fingers behind his head and knealt down to brush her lips tantalizingly against his, pausing to bite the soft flesh of his bottom lip between her own white teeth.

"Mmm," she purred against his mouth. "Delicious." Bellatrix grabbed his fist where it was clenched by his side and slipped something into it before standing up, still smiling. "Just a little something to remember me by... until we meet again."

She straightened up, shot him one last smoldering wink, and disapparated with a sharp crack.

Lucius let his head fall back against the floor, unclenching his fist. In it was her ripped black silk thong. Lucius brought it to his face, inhaling once again the dark musky scent of her. He felt his body react, but at the thought of his frigid wife upstairs in bed, all stirrings of desire promptly faded. Sighing resignedly, he stood up and magically cleaned up his shattered glass of firewhiskey and transfigured the armchair into a more comfortable couch. Realizing that Bellatrix had taken the only garment of clothing he had with him, he was forced to transfigure one of the silk pillows of the couch into a new set of pajamas. The long scratches Bellatrix had left down his back twinged as his newly transformed robe brushed over them. Lucius stretched out on the plush couch, folding his arms behind his head, his silver eyes reflecting the glimmers of the dying embers. His eyelids fluttered slowly closed, and as his body relaxed into sleep his fist opened slowly around the scrap of black silk held tightly in his white fingers.

Bellatrix stood perfectly still as Voldemort prowled around her as a hawk circles its prey.

"And how was it, my Bellatrix? I can smell him on you... I trust your advances were received as expected?"

"Yes, my lord," Bellatrix said, remembering the rolling of his hard, lean body above hers, and his low gutteral moans as he released himself inside her.

"Well? Were you able to glean any information about the progress of his son in his attempts to kill Dumbledore?"

Bellatrix smiled, barely a twitch of the lips, before she composed herself.

"I hope I have not failed you, my lord, but Lucius was not as forthcoming as we had hoped. I believe it will take, at least, several more visits of a similar manner in order for him to bring me into his confidences."

"It is as I expected. You may take as much tim as needed for this assignment. I pray you do not disappoint me Bellatrix. You haven't yet."

Bellatrix bowed low, kissing the hem of his robes. She knealt at his feet until, with a soft rustle, he disappeared into a cloud of billowing smoke that rose over the trees and flew to the south.

As she finally looked up, the moonlight glinted off her teeth, bared in a feral smile.

"Oh, it will take time, my lord. A long time. And I will enjoy every delicious minute of it." She ran her tongue slowly over her full bottom lip, the smile still on her face. With a quiet crack, she disapparted, the trees rustling witht the wind of her passage. But in another moment, all was still again, and nothing but the lingering scent of musky perfume proved she had ever been there at all.