12 November 1981

Isle of Mull

"Bellatrix," Voldemort said, pulling off his outer robe, "Take off your tunic. Slowly."

Bellatrix had been nude with him in the shower not very long earlier, but she did just as he commanded and slowly, slowly stripped off her gauntlets and then her shirt. She stood before him in her black shelf bra, which pushed her breasts up a bit, and Voldemort stared. Bellatrix felt the weight of his gaze and asked carefully,

"Do you like my body, Master?"

"I do." He nodded a little. He shut his eyes and gulped visibly and said in a frustrated voice, "I wanted Albus Dumbledore dead today. I thought I would get him. For a moment there, I thought I had him. I could see it. Success. Everything that will come after his death."

"How may I please you, My Lord?" Bellatrix asked, and Voldemort whispered,

"You please me well enough, Bella."

"Shall I take off the rest of my clothes now?" she asked, and he replied softly,

"Yes. You tried to kill him."

"I saw an opportunity," Bellatrix said as she slid her skirts down with her leggings. She had removed her boots downstairs. Bellatrix stood now in her bra and knickers, and Voldemort unbuttoned his own shirt and trousers and pulled them off one piece at a time. He was lumpy and bumpy, Bellatrix noticed again. He had a little paunch, and his skin was uneven. But she found him very handsome indeed. Voldemort kept his glasses on, and Bellatrix knew why. He wanted to stare at her for a moment. She rolled her shoulders back to showcase her breasts a little, and she put a hand on her waist as she tipped her hip up a little.

"You almost killed him," Voldemort told her, and Bellatrix remembered the way Dumbledore had Disapparated away from her Killing Curse. She remembered shouting the words. Avada Kedavra! She'd shrieked them right at Dumbledore. She nodded and said again,

"I saw an opportunity, My Lord, to help you be successful. I will always do anything and everything for your success. I live for you. I live… for you."

"Bella." He seemed hungry then, and he whipped his glasses off and tossed them down onto the table beside the bed. He shoved his underwear down and kicked it away and jerked his chin toward the bed. Bellatrix climbed onto the bed, and she was surprised when Voldemort carefully tucked both of them beneath the green quilts. It was nice and warm under the blankets, she thought, but she hadn't been expecting him to take them under here.

They lay facing one another, and he kissed her hard, shoving his tongue between Bellatrix's lips and making her squeal. She tried to marry her tongue's motions with his, to synchronise the way their tongues danced in his mouth and then in hers. She reached between them and felt that he was rock solid, and he shoved her hand away, surprising her.

"Mmmph!" he groaned, pulling his mouth from hers. "If you massage me now, Bellatrix, it won't last but a moment."

"Sorry, Master," she whispered.

"I want you to come for me," he said bluntly, and Bellatrix flashed him a little smile as she whispered,

"I think I can do that."

He turned her facing away from him and wrapped his right arm round her, urging her thighs apart a bit as he touched the pads of his forefinger and middle finger to her folds. He grunted, his cock hard where it was folded against Bellatrix's back. He kissed the skin beneath her ear, lapping there as his hand moved. His fingers caressed her oyster-like folds, his middle finger coursing around in oval motions that felt so, so good around her entrance. Bellatrix gasped every time his finger glided over her clit, and she finally threw her head back. He'd wedged his left arm beneath her and was gripping a breast, and he urged her to turn her face so he could kiss her. He did kiss her, deeply and passionately, all the while his middle finger coursing ovals around her entrance. He finally dipped inside of her and hooked a little, and he mumbled,

"You are soaking wet."

"I'm going to come," Bellatrix said in a shaky voice, for it was true. She was right on the verge, right on the edge. She needed mercy or more from him; she wasn't sure which. She bucked her hips a little against his hand, and then fortunately he quickened up and deepened the motions of his middle finger and began to focus more and more on her clit. Bellatrix cycled her hips hard against his hand, and she let him kiss her cheek, then her jaw, then her neck, and then she came.

She cried for him as she did. Master! she screamed. My Lord! My Master! She was clenching round his fingers, she knew. She was shaking in his arms. She was trembling beneath his touch, and everything was hot and loud and wonderful.

And then it faded, very gradually, but her want did not. She still craved him. She needed him more than ever. She rolled onto her back and turned back toward him, and he looked like a starving man. Bellatrix suddenly had a wild need to ride him, and she begged him,

"Please, Master, may I be atop you?"

He seemed to like the thought of that very much. He kept rolling onto his back, and Bellatrix peeled back the blankets a bit. She threw a leg onto the far side of Voldemort and suddenly spied her wedding rings. The rings that bound her to Rodolphus. Who the blazes was Rodolphus in this room? He was no one here.

Bellatrix mounted Voldemort and lined his cock up with her sodden, quivering entrance. She slid down onto him and they both hissed, him so severely that it almost sounded like another language. Bellatrix leveraged herself on her hands and knees, leaning forward so that she could kiss Voldemort's scruffy neck. She kissed him so hard there that he cried out, but he squeezed at her curls and drew her closer. He liked it. Bellatrix kissed him again, harder, biting a little, and she began pumping her hips up and down like a machine piston.

"Bloody hell, Bellatrix!" Voldemort snarled through clenched teeth. "Bellatrix!"

"Master?" she huffed against his neck, snapping her pelvis down against his, and he whispered,

"I admire your enthusiasm, Bellatrix. Oh, fucking… oh!"

Suddenly she could tell that he was coming, for she could feel him twitching and swelling inside of her. She was almost proud that she could make a man his age finish so quickly. She was almost proud that she could drive him to the edge like this just by molesting his neck with her mouth and bobbing her hips up and down. He liked her. He wanted her. And that was the best feeling in the entire world.

When it was all over, they lay under the quilts on their backs, staring at the ceiling. Voldemort sighed and mumbled,

"I wanted Albus Dumbledore dead today, and you came the closest to killing him."

"I'll always be your soldier, Master, and soon enough Dumbledore will be dead," said Bellatrix in response. There was a long period of silence, so long that Bellatrix was very worried she'd done something wrong, and she tipped her head toward Voldemort. He kept staring at the ceiling, and he touched the back of his wrist to his forehead. He was silent and serious for a long moment, and then at long last, he whispered,

"I'm in love with you."

Author's Note: GASP. If you know me, you know that I believe Voldemort can love *under the right circumstances*. I think that him realizing that Bellatrix has genuinely loved him for decades, then developing feelings for her that range from admiration of her fighting to lust… seems like the right circumstances. But his love would definitely be twisted, amoral, and basically fundamentally flawed.

But now that he's told her this, is there any going back? Will Dumbledore die? What happens the next time Rodolphus and Bellatrix meet?

Thank you for reading and especially for reviewing!