He awoke the next morning to hear her gentle breathing and stood quietly from the bed. She noticed his absence immediately, searching for him as she slept, her arms sliding across the sheets.
He kissed her hand before leaving in search of breakfast. As he ate, his mind puzzled over his bride asleep upstairs. She was, he believed, a rare gem. Such beauty as hers normally hid a malicious greedy inner soul…beauty and innocence rarely came together. But she seemed so… pure…He thought of last night and smiled. Not quite that innocent. He liked that wildness in her. That she could take such roughness and enjoy it as much as she had. He liked it, craved it; she made him lose control. He hadn't been this wild with anyone even in his teen years. Her body bowed to his whims as quickly and willingly as she did. He returned to his bed quickly to check on her. Carrying his son…it was an almost proud thought. Their son would be perfect. He would make sure of it. She slept as restlessly as he had the night before when their bodies weren't connected. Rolling from side to side in search of him.
He lay down beside, tugging her against him to whisper in Parseltongue in her ear. "Awaken, Alize."
Her eyes fluttered open at once, though it took her a moment to fully shake her drowsiness.
"Yes, my Lord?" she whispered, slightly groggy.
"I wish you good morning. Do you feel alright? You should eat something…for the baby."
"I…I feel alright. A little queasy but not enough where I won't eat."
"Come I have food for you."
She rose from the bed at once, though had to stand slowly as her head spun a bit. The dizziness faded quickly, however, and she followed Voldemort dutifully through the house, holding her torn nightgown closed over her bosom.
He looked back at her, the heat obvious in his eyes as he recalled memories of the night before, as he sat with her at the table. She swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way her body throbbed at that look, her fingers shaking where she clutched her dress.
"Eat. We are alone."
She nodded, lowering her hand to pick up her fork. The shredded top sagged, gaping open to reveal her breasts. He smirked slightly, watching her eat. It was oddly one of the most erotic things he'd ever seen. Teased by the cold air, her still swollen nipples puckered further, hardening into tight little buds. They'd been pale pink last night, but due to the sharp bites, the hard sucks, he'd given them, they were darker, slightly bruised. He stood, moving behind her to brush his hands over her skin. "Temptress," he whispered in Parseltongue. She shivered against him, her spine straightening as pleasure coursed through her, straight to her core. Her teeth sank into her lips, biting back her moan and her fork fell from between her numb fingers to land on the table with a clatter. "Continue eating. I did not tell you to stop."
"Yes, my Lord," she breathed, picking up her fork with a hand that was deceptively steady and digging back into her food.
He moved his hand away from her, licking the pad of his fingertip before brushing it across her skin again. She shivered again, harder this time, struggling to force her jaw to continue chewing the food she'd placed in her mouth. He smiled as he twisted her nipple between his fingers, kissing the back of her neck. She made a soft moan in her throat, sliding another bite of the food she couldn't taste past her lips.
"M-my L-lord…I d-did not m-mean t-to in-interrupt, s-sir…" Rabastan Lestrange stuttered, turning to face away from them.
"This had better be important."
"M-my…My…s-sister-in-law…sh-she said w-we were br-breaking my br-brother out t-today…"
Alize ignored the newcomer, eating slowly as Voldemort had told her to do. She ignored, as well, the fact that her breasts were hanging out of her dress and the Dark Lord's fingers still teased her nipples, sending need swirling and spiraling low in her stomach.
"She lied. Leave my presence before I lose my temper completely."
He trembled as he moved to leave but Voldemort stopped him, his body locking into place, unable to move. "You do not enter my private home without my permission." As he spoke Rabastan felt vines of pain expand throughout his body, escalating, worsening. "Consider yourself lucky. You will not be so should this happen again."
Alize swallowed the food in her mouth, watching the sight curiously. Even as he tortured Rabastan, he continued to pleasure her.
"I s-saw n-nothing, Master, I sw-swear…"
"Such lies, Rabastan."
Her core throbbed the longer he teased her. She was still sensitive, even so many hours after he'd brought her to those roaring orgasms over and over, and she felt another begin to form within her. He was pulling her closer and closer by the second with just his fingertips.
"I…I sw-swear…pl-please, sir…"
"Perhaps I should force you to forget through horrors…pain…torture…"
Rabastan's voice faded as her body burned with flaring pleasure. She bit her lip as hard as she could but she could not suppress the moan that escaped, breathless and quiet.
"J-just let me go…pl-please…it w-won't ever h-happen again."
Voldemort licked the back of her neck before he continued to increase the pain Rabastan felt.
Both Rabastan and Alize cried out at the same time. She began to tremble, feeling the orgasm just a breath away. Voldemort smiled, sucking at the skin of her throat. She moaned again, this time louder, the sound vibrating her skin beneath his tongue.
"Voldemort…" she whispered so only he could hear. "I am going to…to come…"
"Please do." He immediately sent Rabastan away, expelling him from his home. "Now."
She exploded violently, her body shaking and convulsing. She wailed as she came, her nails digging deep grooves into the table. It was so perfectly intense, so overwhelmingly euphoric. Her back arched in the chair, her head falling back. Her breasts were thrust up into his touch, making the pleasure build even more intense.
"You are such a good slave, Alize."
"I aim…to…please…my Lord…" she panted breathlessly, the pleasure not yet fading from her body.
"Are you finished with your food or do you wish to continue?" He kissed the back of her neck again.
"I…I ate it all…my Lord," she murmured, shivering against his lips.
He smiled. "Then we can continue this in private. Hopefully without future interruptions."
"Hopefully," she whispered, licking her lips hungrily.
He chuckled. "If you show me that you want it bad enough we might not stop until noon."
"It would be very easy to prove if my Lord would let me borrow his hand for a moment," she murmured.
He raised a brow, holding out his hand to her, with a bemused smile. She took it within her own hand and led it down her body, through the gaping hole in her top and down further to her very core. She spread her legs, separating her lower lips, in order to press his fingertips against her entrance, which still wept from her orgasm, soaking the pads of his index and middle fingers.
"Is that enough to please my Lord?" she asked softly.
"Plenty. We shall see how long you can last." He carried her up the stairs and locked the door to his room.
"I could…still…go…for…more…my Lord…" Alize panted no less than six hours later, covered and sweat and the moisture from her own orgasms, repeated every few minutes over the course of the last several hours. In truth she was dizzy, delirious, and aching from the pleasure. But she could handle more. In fact, she wanted it.
"More? How strong you are…Are you sure you can take it?"
"Please…" she breathed, her fingers flexing weakly against her own palms. "I am…addicted to…the way you fill…me…"
"Addiction is a dangerous thing. You never know when you have had enough…"
"My Lord knows…what is best for me…"
"I do not know…I believe I am addicted too." He kissed her, a hot, hard kiss against her already bruised lips. Her warm moan filled his mouth, only adding to the belief. He craved those noises she made as much as he craved the contact between their bodies.
This was dangerous, risky. But he was the Dark Lord, Voldemort. Wizards everywhere were afraid to utter his name. He did not have to worry over a little danger, especially that posed by lust. She mumbled something against his lips, so quiet he could make nothing out other than the word "whisper".
He pulled back, looking into her eyes. "I did not catch that, Alize."
"If you want me to listen…whisper…" she sang in an achingly quiet voice. "If you want me to run just walk…"
He didn't recognize the song, and frankly was surprised she had the strength to sing. He smiled at the thought, thrusting into her again.
"Wrap…your name in…lace and leather…" she breathed as he thrust into her, singing weakly, panting heavily. "I can hear…you…you don't need…to talk…"
He kissed around her lips, her cheeks, her nose.
"Let us make a thousand…mistakes…For we will…never learn…"
He rocked against her hard. "Try not to stop," he whispered. "Keep singing."
Her hips lifted against his, her eyes squeezing shut for a moment. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips and then she continued. "You're my obsession…my fetish…my…religion…my confusion, my confession…the one I want…tonight..."
He smiled, moaning aloud as he took her over and over. As he pounded in her, she continued to sing, but her voice grew more breathless by the second.
"You're my…obsession…the question and…conclusion…you…are…you are…you are…my fetish…you are…"
"B-beautiful voice…" he moaned.
"You can…kiss me…with your torture…Tie…me up…to…golden…chains…"
He rolled over so that he could fuck her deeper, harder, grasping her hips to move her against him himself.
Her next words were a shout, a half strangled cry. "Wrong or right it's all role play!"
"So strong…you can't possibly last much longer."
Her lips quivered. "Let us make a thousand mistakes…We'll never…learn…"
He pulled her against him even faster. "So close…"
Her inner muscles trembled, on the verge of orgasm. But she sung on. "You're my obsession! My fetish, my religion! My confusion, my confession! The one I want tonight! You're my obsession! The question and conclusion! You are…you are…you are…My fetish, you are…"
"Come with me, Alize."
Her lips rose into a little smile as her body clenched his. "Come…to me…tonight…" she sang in a whisper and then she exploded around him and could sing no more.
He pulled her against him as he came with her, a smile on his face.
Bellatrix had a lot of time to think while locked in her cage. A lot of time to plan and strategize. A lot of time to decide. And what she decided was that she could not let the little gold digging whore live.
She was a little girl, not even yet out of school, and suddenly she was in Bellatrix's position. His most faithful most devoted. She had never failed him. She had done everything he'd wanted. She'd killed, tortured, stolen for him. She would die for him…and he chooses the babe. She was not even old enough to take care of herself. Bellatrix sneered.
She would show him, one way or another, that his little bride's motives were not as pure as her heritage. Ambitious little slut… She was not worthy of the Dark Lord. She would prove it. One way or another.
Over the next few days, Bellatrix had to kill five people, torture three, and permanently maim one before she was able to find two people to help her with her task.
"What is the meaning of this?!" the Dark Lord roared in Parseltongue, a rarity, his voice obviously full of anger, though they could not understand the meaning. Alize blinked up at her lover as all of the Death Eaters in the room shrank back in their chairs, cowering from his anger.
"Lestrange, Alize, now." He stood sweeping from the room. Alize rose from her chair immediately and followed after him, her bare feet making soft thuds on the ground. Rabastan looked over at his sister-in-law and rose slower, stumbling over his feet as he followed with a sinking feeling of dread.
He slammed the door to his study shut, grasping her by the shoulders and seizing control of her mind. She didn't look away, holding his gaze and opening her mind so he could see everything she'd ever done. He was searching for something, obviously, and she would not make it more difficult for him to find.
He pulled away, turning to Rabastan. "She is innocent. Explain this, now." He threw the picture on the table between them. Rabastan swallowed, looking down at the photograph that depicted him and Alize together in the throes of ecstasy.
"It w-was…B-Bellatrix…m-my L-Lord…She…Sh-she k-killed many people…a-and th-threatened to k-kill me i-if I d-did n-not help h-her…"
"You did not come to me. You did not tell me."
"She…She…Sh-She used the C-Cruciatis curse…"
Alize stood behind Voldemort, completely confused. She was unable to see the photograph on the table so she still had no clue what had caused his rage.
"That is nothing to what I will do." He pulled Alize out from behind him. "She will choose your punishment."
"My Lord," she said, glancing at the photograph which she still could not see clearly. "I don't know what he's done."
"He plotted with his sister-in-law…trying to discredit you." He handed her the picture. "She is innocent and she is mine."
She studied the photograph in silence for a long time and as she did, her pale eyes grew chillier by the moment, usually kind now they were frightening. Her grip on the photograph as she lowered it was so tight her knuckles strained whiter than normal.
"I don't care what you do to him," she said softly but coldly. "Give him to the Aurors as a gift. But I want a turn with Bellatrix."
"Of course. Now for you…" Ropes crawled from the end of his wand like snakes. Rabastan could only watch with trepidation as they wrapped around him.
"Who took the photograph?" Alize asked as the robes bound him.
"Alecto Carrow," he murmured.
"Stay with him while I retrieve the others."
"Of course, my Lord." She strode toward the bound Death Eater and sat down on the edge of the table.
He walked from the room. "I require assistance. My former betrothed has been unfaithful. I aim to torture her and the scoundrel. I ask for two to help me with this task."
Bellatrix leapt from her seat. "I will, my Lord."
"Excellent. Alecto Carrow, come with me as well."
As they giddily left the room with the Dark Lord, several of the Death Eaters looked to each other with pale faces. Drake, Regulus, Severus, and Narcissa all looked both shocked and sickened.
"There is no way. Alize is the purest woman…she would never touch another man…especially not him…this is bad…really bad…" Severus muttered.
"Perhaps she'd been Imperiused?" Drake suggested.
"She is too strong of mind for such weak wizards to control her," Narcissa answered.
As they sat there discussing, the first agonized shriek rang through the room.
"They'll kill her!" Regulus cried, agonized.
"I…I don't think that was her…" one of the older Death Eaters murmured. The shrieking continued, growing louder, more pained by the moment. They had never heard such a deeply tormented sound.
Several of the Death Eaters, even some of the battle-hardened ones cringed and blocked their ears.
They couldn't tell whose voice was creating the screams, and being forced to listen to the sound thinking it may be there dearest friend had Severus, Regulus, and Drake squirming in their seats, near tears, while Narcissa buried her face in her husband's robe.
Voldemort returned after a moment, a pleased look in his eye. "Bellatrix Lestrange has paid the price for her disobedience," he said quietly. "Do not cross me. Do not cross my wife. Or I will put you in her hands to decide. And she will not be lenient."
"Narcissa, look away," came Alize's voice from the study. Swallowing, now numb, Narcissa buried her face further in her husband's robes and heard a sickening thud hit the table, the smell of blood and charred flesh filling her nose.
"I have tolerated a large amount of disrespect for far too long," Alize said, her voice as cold as the Dark Lord's as she raised her wand and lit the photograph on fire, setting it still flaming on Bellatrix's corpse where it lay across the table. "I will tolerate it no more."
Voldemort watched her with appreciation as the Death Eaters trembled.
"It disturbs me how many who call themselves His most loyal I find to be anything but. We have lost three warriors today because of treachery. I hope we will not be losing any more in the future," her seemingly innocent words definitely held a clear note of warning. She surveyed the room then turned to face Voldemort. "May I be excused, my Lord?"
He nodded, raising his wand to dispose of Bellatrix. She turned sharply on her heel and stormed from the room, the white silk of her gown, stained red with blood in several places, billowing around her, her long, crimson hair whipping behind her shoulders as she walked.
"Now let us begin our meeting…I need someone to take up Rabastan's position with the giants."
Alize was pacing his study when he finally dismissed the rest of his followers and joined her.
"They infuriate me," she said as she paced, twirling her wand around in her fingers.
"I know. They will never disrespect you again."
"It's not I who is being disrespected," she said. Her blood stained dress flowed around her like water as she turned in circles about the room, lost in her thoughts. "Almost the whole lot of them is useless. They cower before you but it is still not enough to make them do as you ask. Not a single one of them has succeeded in the tasks you've given them. I could accomplish every single one of the errands you have given them in half the time it's taken them to fail," she hissed.
He smiled. "You would like to try your hand at it."
"I would," she said, tossing her wand between her hands. "They should be purged. There are only very few among them who are worthy enough to call themselves your loyal servants."
"You would have my forces be diminished."
"I would have your forces be whipped into obedience."
"I shall put you in charge for a trial run if you believe you can handle it."
"I know I can. I also know of many much more qualified people who would love to take the places of these unworthy brats."
"I give you permission."
"I'll begin at once. And I assure you, I will not disappoint." She paused in her pacing, coming to a rest in front of him.
"I don't doubt that…I am a little worried over our son."
"He is strong," she said, lowering her hands to her stomach.
"I know this." He kissed her.
"I will not fail you, my Lord," she whispered against his lips.
"You will report in one week of your success."
"How is the project with the giants?"
"We…We have converted some, M-Master," said the Death Eater in charge. "Well…o-one… They are very h-hard to find, Master. And even harder to control."
"Not good enough," Voldemort said quietly. He glanced silently toward Alize.
She rose from her seat and moved to a wall where a detailed map of the world had been hung.
"The giants live in three main enclaves. Here, here, and here," she said, gesturing to spots on the map before turning back to face Voldemort. "They have all been contacted and secured. They are quite eager to assist you, my Lord."
The Death Eaters who had been assigned to this task glared at her with surprise and contempt.
"Thank you. You may return to your seat," Voldemort said. Alize inclined her head and sat down beside him again.
"And what of the goblins?" he continued.
"My Lord…We have nothing they want. They do not want gold. They want the rights and privileges the wizarding world has denied them. How can we promise them that?"
"You lie."
"But they know we are lying. They're goblins…"
He sighed. "Incompetent fools. Alize, do you have more to report?"
"The goblins have also been secured, my Lord. I have already set them about their duties."
He eyed her speculatively, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. "Lucius, have you been successful within the Ministry?"
"Yes, my Lord. But I…I have not done as well as I had hoped. We have control of one of the Ministry officials and are in the process of working on two more."
"Which officials?"
"Dolores Umbridge."
He frowned. "Inconsequential and useless. Must I even ask, Alize?"
She smiled. "The Minister and all his underlings are at my beck and call, my Lord."
"The muggle Prime Minister, Alize? Any news of him?"
"Dead."
"Perfect. Have we control of the Dementors?"
"Complete."
"Is this all you have done this week?"
"I have also found the time to bring my Lord several gifts."
"Gifts?" He watched her curiously.
"Have you heard of the Celestine Whiplash, my Lord?"
"The dragon?"
"You now own three."
"I believe that concludes this meeting. I am sorely disappointed in most of you. Dismissed."
After all of the Death Eaters were gone, he stood to approach Alize. "You have done well, child."
She smiled, leaning back in her seat. "That is not all, my Lord."
"What else? What more could there be?" he asked, bemused.
"The Warren family fortune I inherited upon my father's death has been moved to your personal stores."
He watched her, silent for a moment. "Did you have no need of the money?" he asked, distracted.
"My Lord needs it more than I."
"We must celebrate your accomplishments, Alize…you have surprised me by such success."
"But I'm not yet finished, my Lord," she said, grinning widely.
"I should have guessed." He smiled. "What other news must I hear?"
"I have taken the time to design, construct, and outfit your non magical allies with weaponry and armor they may use during battle. And I've done it all, I might add, pregnant and with enough time to spare at the end of the day to return home to eat supper, see to my Lord's needs, and retire to his bed for a full night's rest."
"You have done very well. Is there anything you wish?"
"My only concern, my Lord, is to find you more suitable servants."
"You may do with my followers what you please. Get rid of them, get new slaves, whatever you wish. I trust your instincts."
She smiled. "I'm glad I've pleased you."
"You have not pleased me yet. But we shall remedy that."
Alize rose from her seat immediately and climbed into his lap. "The Lord may do with me as he desires," she whispered against his lips.
"You have earned freedom today, slave. You may do as you wish."
A charming grin spread across her lips an instant before she disposed of his clothes, leaving him naked in his chair at the head of the table as she straddled him.
He smiled. "I do enjoy how your mind works, Alize."
"So do I, my Lord." She bent and trailed her tongue across his throat.
He moaned, allowing his head to fall back to grant her better access. Slowly she made a path with her lips from his throat, across his pale chest, down to his navel. She knelt on the floor at his feet and looked up at him from between his legs.
"Je peux vous plaire mon Seigneur ?" she asked, her lips brushing across the tip of his manhood. Her warm breath caressed him softly, all the way down his length.
"Yes," he whispered in Parseltongue. "Yes…I need it…"
She lowered her head at once, as though bowing to him, and took his manhood past her lips, deep into her wet mouth. He jerked up against her. "Mm…Alize…"
Her tongue ran in circles around his head and then the rest of his warm flesh as she lowered her mouth, taking him even deeper, sucking on him as she did. He moaned loudly, his hands fisting in her hair as he moved against her mouth. She did not mind the way he thrust roughly past her lips. She encouraged him to take his pleasure from her, sliding him to the edge of his chair and further down her throat. He moved lustfully, in and out of her mouth, deeply, a steady stream of moans leaving his lips. All the while she accepted him, raising her hands to stroke him as her tongue licked him, her teeth nipped him, and her mouth sucked him, filling him with sharp, acute pleasure. He exploded into her mouth, clutching her tighter to him as his body shuddered relentlessly, tremors passing through him. She swallowed his release, swirling her tongue around his twitching length to lap up every drop into her mouth before she withdrew. He looked down at her, an odd feeling making his chest both tighten and swell. All of the tasks she had accomplised in such short a time, her concern for giving him the greatest army for his war…those were things that had already pleased him greatly. She was most loyal, most faithful. But she had surprised him again. He had told her she could be Master as a reward for her work but she had pleasured him instead, and taken nothing for herself. He pulled her up to him, kissing her. He could taste himself on her tongue. How could she have taken such a bitter, disgusting taste willingly? Even going so far as to lick it into her mouth to swallow it. He pulled away kissing her nose. "You continue to amaze me, Alize."
"I only want to make you happy," she whispered, looking up at him through her lashes. "J'aime."
"I know you do…You have done inspiring work, as always."
"Is it nice not to be disappointed, my Lord?"
He smiled. "It is refreshing. I am never disappointed with you."
"And you never will be," she vowed.
"I know this. You are a kind Master, Alize."
"Only to my most faithful," she teased with a mischievous grin.
"Wise. You cannot trust many."
"That is true." She raised her wand and returned his clothes to him.
He stood from his seat. "You cause me to act like a reckless, hormonal teenager, Alize…I always need you…"
"It's because I'm a reckless, hormonal teenager. I'm sure it'll pass."
"A pity…I am enjoying this new adventure."
"As am I."
"Let us enjoy together while it lasts."
"After you, my Lord."
"Where is our Lord?"
"He will not be joining us today," Alize said from the chair at the head of the table, tapping a quill against a stack of parchment. "He had other matters to attend to."
"What are we doing today if our Lord is not here?"
"Inspection."
There were looks of confusion around the table. "Inspection?"
"The Dark Lord is severely displeased with his servants. He has asked me to weed out those who don't belong."
Several looked worried. "Will you kill them…?"
"Do I need to?" she asked with raised brows.
"No…"
"Then don't be concerned. I won't do anything unnecessary. I don't want to waste my time."
"How are you deciding?"
"That's my business, isn't it?"
"When will we know…?"
"Today." She sat up straighter in her seat. "A very small few of you will be dismissed without discipline soon. Some of you will find your time as a Death Eater has come to an end. The rest of you will be given one last chance. And I must stress this so you understand me perfectly. One more chance and then you're done. Do we understand?"
Several of the Death Eaters nodded or mumbled assent.
"Excellent." She dipped her quill in ink and held it poised above her parchment. "Let's begin, shall we?"
Severus sat beside her. "You're keeping me, yes?" He smiled.
She offered him her own small smile and nodded. "Voldemort is very pleased with you," she whispered to him.
"Thanks…"
"You're one of my best friends, Severus," she said solemnly. "I just want you to know that."
"And you are mine."
"Listen, I'm going to be dismissing those who are fine half way through the meeting but I'd like you to stay behind. I have a task I need your help with."
"Anything."
She turned back to the others. "Avery, let's begin with you…"
"I have done everything faithfully for our Lord for ten years…"
"Then you should pass with flying colors."
Voldemort rested in his bed, confident of Alize's abilities to judge his slaves. After a long while, he joined her in the conference room. "It is going well."
"Yes." She looked up at him over her shoulder, setting down her quill. She had several sheets of parchment covered in notes and observations. Nearly all of those gathered looked ill.
"What will we do with the removed?"
"They will be with Alastor Moody by morning."
He nodded. "How is our child?"
"Content at the moment."
"Good. You will be finished soon?"
"Soon, yes."
"Return to me," he said in Parseltongue. "I will be waiting in my bed for you."
"Soon as I can, my Lord," she whispered back in the same language.
He smiled, then returned to his room.
"Alright," Alize said when he left. "I think I've made my final decision."
Voldemort fell asleep nearly the minute he returned to his room. She had everything under control. He trusted her completely. He awoke some time later as Alize slipped into the bed beside him, curling up against his spine and wrapping one arm around his waist.
"You amaze me, Alize…you are an astounding leader…and fulfilling lover... you are everything I could want in a wife."
She pressed her lips against his spine in a soft kiss. "May I ask you something, my Lord?"
"Anything."
"Why…Why did you single me out, in the beginning? You have treated me differently than all the others from the very start."
"You had an intriguing background. I've learned to listen to my instincts. I felt you were special."
"Why did you mark me on my belly instead of my arm?"
"I marked you differently because you were different."
"I mean…specifically…why my stomach?"
"Impulse…I do not know what caused it…"
"Do you know what it feels like when you call me?"
"No. I know it causes pain."
"It burns in here," she pressed her hips against his spine, rubbing her sex against him.
He brushed his hand over her arm. "Is that so?"
"Yes. And here." She pressed her breasts against him.
He let out a soft sigh at the sensation of her pressed against him. "Is that a complaint?"
"No. I like it," she whispered in his ear. "It hurts but it makes me ache with need."
"I need you now, Alize."
"Touch me, my Lord," she murmured, lying flat on her back on the bed beside him. "Make me burn again."
He traced his finger over her dark mark, kissing her as he did. She shrieked in agony against his lips and he pulled away to watch in amazement as her breasts swelled, her nipples puckering into hard little peaks and down between her legs, moisture began to pool.
His fingers trailed through the moisture. "You enjoy the pain."
She nodded, breathless at the sensation of his fingers toying with her.
He smiled. "I am your Master. I do with you as I wish."
"Yes," she breathed helplessly.
He lay across her, pressing her into the bed. "You are mine."
"Yes," she whimpered again.
He kissed her, holding her hands down above her head as he took her.
"YES!" she screamed her head falling back as her eyes rolled back in her head. Her body trembled violently beneath him.
He smiled as he rocked against her roughly. "My slave is pleased."
"Always…" she moaned, her hips lifting, searching, straining.
He held her hands with one of his and grabbed her hip with his other. She whimpered, her fingers curling around his hand. She wanted so badly to lift her hips and force him deeper within her. But as he gripped her, she couldn't move at all. She tossed her head to the side, moaning, pleading, shielding her flushed face with her long hair.
He held her tighter. "Mine…"
"Yes," she gasped, squeezing her eyes shut. "I know."
"Beg me."
"Please…" she whispered, her lips brushing the skin of the arm held above her head. "Please, Master…I need it." Her words became whimpers then gasps. "Please!" she cried. "Please!"
He let her go, rocking harder. She threw her head back and screamed, raising her hips to slam her body against his, forcing him deep again and again. Then deeper, faster, harder until he was sure she must be hurting herself.
He cried out, exploding inside of her. She whimpered in frustration, having not reached her peak. She'd come close, so close she was sure she was going to explode. But she hadn't and now she lay there aching with a need so acute she felt tears forming at the corners of her eyes.
He pulled away from her, sliding his hand against her. "You want more?"
"P-Please," she sobbed.
He slid his fingers inside of her, three of them at once, pounding them against her.
"Yes!" she screamed, convulsing around him. "Yes, oh yes!"
He kissed her, nipping at her lip.
"More," she whispered against his lips. "Please…more…"
"Demanding little slave…" He slid another finger inside with the others. "Are you sure you can handle it?"
"I…need…it…" she gasped, rocking her hips against his fingers.
"You're so small. I can barely fit my fingers inside of you," he whispered.
"I know…and that…the stretching…oh it feels so good," she breathed, rocking harder.
"My little slave."
"Yes…" Her head fell back again, her teeth sinking into her lip. "I'm so close…so very close."
"Let go. I command you."
She did, her already tight sheath squeezing him so hard his fingers were forced out of her. She cried out at she came, her back arching, breasts bouncing, eyes rolling as the tears that had threatened earlier burst free to race across her feverish cheeks.
He pulled her close, pressing her body against his.
"My…My Lord…takes…such good…care of me…" she murmured sleepily.
"Always."
"I apologize…for being so demanding…Master…"
"I will not punish you for it."
"You are…too…kind…my Lord."
"Such a good little slave."
Her eyes drifted shut over her tears. "J'aime," she whispered on a soft sigh.
"I know."
Her lips lifted at the corners. "I do love you, my Lord. You know I do…but I was talking to your son this time."
He smiled. "Good night, my queen."
"Good night, my Lord."