Sinful
Gluttony
"I hunger for you. Feel me as my mouth slowly works its way down your body and tastes you. You are my favorite flavor..."
For as petite as she is, Bellatrix is nearly impossibly strong and she uses this strength to scoop Hermione into her arms as if she weighs hardly more than a feather. A sharp gasp is wrenched from the former Gryffindor's throat as she is unceremoniously deposited in the center of a large four poster, bouncing once as she lands upon the duvet. She has no time to berate her lover for being so brutish however as Bellatrix all but launches herself after Hermione and proceeds to pick up where she left off.
That decadent mouth that could be so expressive, so petulant, so malicious, so cruel, so pleasurable catches and swallows any form of protest as her hands make quick and rough work of Hermione's offensive clothes. Fabric tears, buttons pop and scatter, heated skin is revealed. The brunette cries out as she and her lover are finally unimpeded by any barriers, Bellatrix's touch torrid, scalding. She can feel herself beginning to smolder and knows that before long, she will burn.
Open mouthed kisses trail from jawline to neck column, down to collar bone. The blunt edges of strong teeth nip harshly only to have the sting soothed by a wicked tongue. "Hush pet. I've hardly even touched you."
Not yet.
Hermione scoffs at the order but the sound is a breathless one. Bellatrix does not mean it. She likes the sounds she makes, relishes in them. All the statement is is a dominance play for they both know the younger witch won't stay quiet, she wouldn't even try. She is a responsive lover, bowing and breaking beneath Bellatrix's savage pleasure, crying out her ecstasy until her voice is rendered hoarse. In the very beginning she had been shy, not comfortable with the complete surrender being fucked by this dark, carnal creature required. She had bloodied her own lips with the effort it took trying to stifle herself many times. But times have changed.
And that is made evident as Bellatrix blazes a scorching path down her lover's naked body. The brunette does nothing at all to hush when her legs are spread apart and draped over a pair of narrow shoulders because she knows what's coming next. Without warning or preamble, Bellatrix's head of outrageous curls is between her thighs and that mouth, that tongue isn't more so licking than devouring. Like a starved animal complete with obscene slurping sounds and deep, rumbling moans of satisfaction.
"Oh my god," Hermione sobs, threading her fingers through that oceanic mass of sable coils, tugging tight enough that somewhere in the back of her mind she knows it must hurt. But she doesn't care, so long as Bellatrix stays where she is. And she does. Like the glutton she is, Bellatrix continues her ravenous assault, pulling the oh so sensitive pearl of her lover's sex between her lips as her tongue provides just the right amount of steady pressure she knows the girl favors. Her hands grip trembling legs hard enough to bruise the skin, keeping them open, keeping this delicious treasure completely accessible.
"Bella, damn it, Bella, I- I'm going to come," the brunette cries out desperately, her tone seeming on the verge of tears. Her body tenses as if she is trying to fight the impending climax. It's too soon. She wants to draw it out, make the moment last. But Bellatrix, as she can be, is ruthless. The words spur her on rather than slow her down, and she lets out a guttural snarl of triumph once she feels the rapid fluttering beneath her mouth signaling orgasm. Her eardrums throb at the throaty wails that ring out in time with each pulse.
Hermione is reduced to a quivering, gasping mess, releasing her hold on the dark witch's hair as her legs are set down onto the bed. Despite the glassy sheen in her eyes, the look she gives Bellatrix is reproachful and if one were looking especially hard, they might liken her expression to that of a pout.
"You're a beast, Bellatrix. Do you know that?"
Bellatrix is hardly deterred by the accusation, instead she cackles, the cacophonous amusement making the hair on the back of Hermione's neck stand on end and her honeyed eyes widen, especially when coupled with the sudden presence of her lover, holding herself up to hover over of her, a wolfish grin standing out starkly against the shadows the curtain of her wild hair cast.
"Dig deep for the stamina, dearie. I've not finished with you yet."
Author's Note: Thanks for all the follows and favorites, you guys are the best! Reviews are and would be greatly appreciated!