Bellatrix was in absolute paradise. After spending the entire day in bed with the man she desired most, she wasn't exactly sure how she could go back to reality. As per his request, she had been naked all day as he lavished every inch of her with more attention than she ever thought possible. They paused only when Voldemort professed he was hungry, and she ended up cooking him some odd combination of the small amount of food in his cupboards to ensure he was always left satisfied. Afterward, he informed her he needed to check on some things, and wouldn't be gone for more than a half an hour. While she waited, Bellatrix lounged out on his bed seductively, the curve of her hip bold and illuminated by the nearby fire's glow. In all honesty, she had never spent this long in the nude before, but once the novelty wore off, she found herself rather comfortable. Every so often, she heard Nagini find a different spot in the room to curl up in, but never once had the snake bothered her. Bellatrix took that as a good sign, considering the snake hissed at nearly everyone else whenever they had meetings. A look from their master soothed her, but she was on the warpath whenever he wasn't there. Sniffing out weakness, perhaps? Bella made a note to bring her in some Muggle remains to munch on next time.

As she sprawled out, Bellatrix stretched her limbs, totally relaxed. Her head had been a little sore a while after Voldemort knocked it against the wall, but it seemed like nothing more than a headache. He hadn't asked her how she was after she told him the medi-witch gave her clearance, but she certainly didn't expect him to. As long as there wasn't any sort of physical reminder, she was quite sure the Dark Lord wasn't one to ask about her well-being, or anyone's for that matter. Bellatrix knew she was special in his eyes, but she didn't delude herself into thinking he would change who he was for her. She loved him just the way he was, even if it meant he was insensitive and occasionally a little hurtful.

Right on cue, she heard the doorknob to his darkened bedroom turn, and seconds later he flew in, his cloak a flurry of black around him.

"Get up," he hissed, grabbing her by the arm and hauling her to her feet. "I have something for you."

She stumbled a little to keep her foot, her skin prickling when his rain soaked cloak brushed against it.

"Is everything all right?" Bellatrix inquired hesitantly, his tone indicating his disinterest in any sort of discussion. However, if by some stretch of the imagination she had done something to offend him, she wanted to get some idea of it before he punished her

"Oh, my Bella," he chuckled darkly, pulling her into him suddenly and wrapping his black, wet cloak around her. "Don't look so upset. I brought you a present."

"A… present?" she repeated, her reserve softening. In its place, a feeling of intense excitement started to curl in the pit of her stomach, "You've never gotten me a present before!"

"Oh, don't blush too hard, my dear," he purred, "because I only just stumbled upon these treasures on my way home."

"But you thought of me," Bellatrix commented cheekily, her nose in the air as she smiled her devilish smile. "I think that counts for something."

"A compliment to your darker nature," the Dark Lord told her, giving her something of a wink as they quickly marched down the dingy, cold stairs to his dungeons. The air, as always, was intoxicating. She breathed it in deeply, the scent of blood, dirt, grime and fear creating a delicious concoction for her senses to immerse themselves in. He pulled her to one of his smaller dungeons, one of three that he used for various purposes underground. She always found the smaller his teaching space, the more intimate it became when they were alone. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness swiftly, having been inside the dimly lit house all day, and as he hauled the thick wooden door open, Bellatrix crept in cautiously behind him, both eager and apprehensive about what he might think is a suitable present for her.

Bellatrix immediately spotted what she assumed was her gift, and she couldn't help but squeal happily. He chuckled darkly behind her, and she turned back to give him a quick peck on the cheek, "Oh, thank you!"

He seemed momentarily displeased with the gesture, and she automatically knew it was too romantic for him. With that in mind, she knew she had to impress him with what was to come. Before her, strewn across the floor like rags, was a pair of Muggle men. They were young, perhaps younger than Cissy, and so blatantly non-magical that it made her gag a little. Their faces were dirty, eyes a little dazed, and necks chained to the wall by heavy iron restraints. They were wet, just like the Dark Lord, and Bellatrix assumed he found them on his travels around his expansive property.

"I found them snooping, Bella dear," he explained, his voice caressing her as she stared at the men, eyes wide and tongue almost lolling out to lick her lips. "Perhaps they knew I had such a lovely specimen strolling naked around my home."

Her cheeks hummed red at the compliment, but she said nothing, muscles tensed as a lioness who found her newest kill. He strolled behind her slowly, lazily, his shoes soft on the stone floor. One of the men was watching him, his lower lip hanging open as if waiting for the flies to come. She wanted to pluck his eyes out. How dare he look at the Dark Lord with such disgust!

"I think they might have been thieves," she said finally, the dungeon thick with tense energy, "and came to rob you of your goods. Do you know what filthy Muggles used to do with thieves, my Lord?"

"Do tell, Bella."

"They cut their hands off."

"Such barbaric folk, Muggles," Voldemort hissed, flicking his wands at the men. Instantly, the dazed looks vanished from their eyes, and they were alert once more, struggling pointlessly against their bonds.

"What the fuck is this?"

Bellatrix wrinkled her nose at their profanity, but felt no need to hide herself in front of their wandering eyes. If the Dark Lord hadn't dressed her before bringing her down to receive her gift, then why should she bother to hide her naked form? It was something he enjoyed to watch, perhaps almost as much as the way she killed. At that moment, she realized this was a gift for both of them, and she wasn't about to disappoint.

"Shall I do the honours, my Lord?" Bellatrix asked, looking at him for the first time. Their eyes met momentarily, dangerously, and then she cast them down to show her respect, "I can punish them as Muggles ought to be punished."

"Crazy bitch!"

She ignored them. As she waited for him to decide what she ought to do, nothing else existed. It wasn't until he strolled up to her and slipped his own wand in her hand, a sign of sheer and utter trust in her eyes, that Bellatrix knew he was ready for her to begin. She held the wood between two fingers, gauging the weight and thickness of it. The wand itself wasn't what she expected. She assumed it would be rigid, unyielding… more like hers. However, this one had a little more give to it, but she could still feel the power that pulsated from its core. Bellatrix wasn't aware of his wand core. However, she knew it would be powerful, and most certainly rare. After all, those two words fit him perfectly, did they not?

Bellatrix brought the wand up to her lips, pressing the tip against them, and then cocked her head to the side. Which man to start with? They looked roughly the same; grubby little lower class urchins who probably sat around smoking and whistling at whores. No one was going to miss them. Not one bit. Finally, she decided to silence the loudest of the two, and did so with a flick of her master's wand. Her eyes widened, marvelled at the power that the wand gave her, and she almost groaned excitedly.

"Do you like your present?" he whispered in her ear, breaking her concentration for only a moment. She nibbled on her lower lip, and then nodded, careful to keep any overt displays of affection under wraps until she had finished with the boys. Fluttering her eyelashes, she crouched down in front of the one she had silenced, and then pursed her lips. With the wand level to his face, she easily brought him under the Imperious Curse.

"Start pulling your finger nails off," she instructed. "One by one. If you finish before I'm finished with your friend, I'll punish you."

The boisterous oaf nodded dumbly, and then set to work on his left hand, wrenching his thumb nail up awkwardly. His companion's eyes widened, and he hastily backed himself away from her naked figure. She pouted, "What's wrong? Aren't I attractive enough for you?"

"You're fucking insane-"

"Such horrible language," Bellatrix purred, shaking her head. "Perhaps I'll do something about that first… You are in the presence of a lady, after all."

The Dark Lord snorted loudly behind her, and she glanced back, an eyebrow arched. He held his hands up, a wry grin on his lips, and leaned back against the dark stone wall, eyes still fixated on Bellatrix. Pleased that she had his full attention, she brought her focus back to her captive and trailed the tip of her master's wand along the side of his face, as if it was a loving gesture. He was going to die. She just needed to figure out the most creative way to do it to entertain her audience. Bellatrix started by enlarging his tongue, so much so that it filled his entire mouth to the point of bursting. His eyes watered when she heard a soft crack come from his jaw hinge, but she ignored it. That ought to teach him to mouth off to her.

Bellatrix then moved onto everything she had stored in her arsenal. The man's body morphed into various shapes and sizes. She set it on fire, cooled it with ice, and laughed as horrendous bumps began to grow along all marks of exposed flesh. Like a pox, she enjoyed deforming every piece of him in the most painful way possible. When she fell into a groove, she barely even remembered the Dark Lord was there, unless he whispered a helpful suggestion every so often, which she always used as her next hex.

She occasionally looked back over at his companion, and found he had removed over half his finger nails, whimpering slightly. Bellatrix glared when she saw his pace, and backhanded him firmly, the only time she hoped she would have to touch him, and reminded the waste of space of her previous threat. He slowed, tears rolling along his pale cheeks as he painstakingly picked each nail off with a slow determination. Satisfied, Bellatrix slowly brought her attention back to her first victim, nibbling on her lower lip, as she tried to think of a way to end him in an appropriately dramatic fashion. Finally, Bellatrix decided to go back to the beginning of his session. She continued to make his tongue grow, until it was bulging out of his mouth, no doubt blocking his throat. He slumped down on his side, wheezing, eyes bloodshot, and Bellatrix sighed. It would be over soon. With a slight grin, she crouched down in front of him, her breasts so very close to his face, and then pinched his nose to cut off all forms of breathing. His hands clutched at hers for only a few seconds, his grasp too weak to do much, and Bellatrix watched as the life slowly drained from his eyes. Within moments, his breathing stopped. A successful kill if she had ever seen one.

However, she still took a step back, her finger on her chin, and then slit his throat in one fell movement for good measure. Faintly in the background, she heard the Dark Lord applaud. Moving onto the other man, who was down to his last pinky nail, Bellatrix scoffed at him and kicked his wasted, broken and torn nails aside, her pale feet covered in the blood of her last victim. She grabbed both of the man's hands before her and held them up. Blood trailed down from the vacant nail slots, others were half torn and heavily bleeding. She frowned as it rolled down onto her hands, but she took it as war paint and moved on from the notion of Muggle blood on her. She was quite sure that because he was under her control magically, he wasn't feeling the full force of his pain. Therefore, to bring him in on the fun, Bellatrix removed her curse and stepped back, giggling madly as he began screaming profanities at her.

"Poor little Muggle," she mused, shaking her head. "Too stupid to understand what's happening. Not to fear… I'll make it stop soon."

He spat at her, clearly unable to string a coherent sentence together, and Bellatrix decided he wasn't going to get an easy way out. While his companion may have been tortured for longer, Bellatrix considered the suffocation something of a merciful kill. This one would see no mercy. Her gaze hardening, Bellatrix stood up, drew her body to its full height, and slowly flicked her wand at random spots on his body. His bare skin exploded in blood blisters, popping for as long as she kept her wand there. The man shrieked and writhed under the touch, his hands lashing out at the air in an attempt to fend her off. Too stupid to understand magic. Typical. The chain around his neck barely gave him enough room to scramble away, and Bellatrix pushed him over harshly with her foot. He collapsed onto his back, crying out most unbecomingly, and Bellatrix took the opportunity to crawl up his body, careful not to actually touch him. Her breasts dangled dangerously close, but only just felt the wet front of his bloodstained shirt. She grabbed his chin with one hand, and then dragged the dark lord's want harshly down his cheeks, leaving another red trail in her wake. Finally, when the screaming became too much, she slit his throat violently, blood spouting up across her naked form in an intricate pattern.

Suddenly, she felt herself hauled off the slowly dying body and thrown to the ground. Her eyes widened in shock, but they relaxed only slightly when Voldemort's lips rammed down to hers, his arousal evident as he steadied himself between her legs. She realized as his hands slid over her body, which was slick with Muggle blood, that this little show had been as much a gift for him as it had been for her. He really could be greedy, her lover, but never when it came to this. Whatever he gave her when he fucked her was always more than enough. Bellatrix moaned heatedly as his lips slid down her neck, teeth biting into flesh randomly. She heard the Muggle weakly insult her with what she perceived as his dying breaths, but she was already too far gone in a craze of lust to even comprehend what he said. Instead, she quickly helped rid Voldemort of his trousers. Their breathing ran ragged quickly, and Bellatrix cried out when he thrust completely into her. She was slick with blood and arousal, both from her kills and from him.

He took her roughly on the floor, her back grinding into the warm blood as his cool, rain-soaked cloak enveloped her from the front. She reached up to run her hands through his hair, but he caught her wrists before she was able to and forced them down. It was painful, but Bellatrix felt her stomach knot in contentment, and she tensed herself to him, deepening the pleasure for both. His breath was hot against the skin of her neck, and although she wanted nothing more than to turn her head to the side and kiss him, she refrained. He wouldn't want it. Kissing was foreplay, and normally Bellatrix assumed he did it for her benefit. She slowly started to feel her body ache, both from his harsh thrusts and the hard stone floor beneath her. However, Bellatrix still felt like she was in Heaven. He suddenly released one wrist and took hold of a clump of her hair as he rolled them over. Her legs steadied as she sat up, his hands digging into her hips as his rolled upward, setting the pace. Bellatrix leaned forward, hair and blood trailing from her to him, and finally let herself kiss him as he rammed upward at an alarming pace.

Much to her pleasure, he let the kiss happen, their rhythm natural and perfect. Her hands cupped his face in a need to enjoy every moment of it. He suddenly grasped her hair again, his pace erratic, and she knew that it wouldn't last much longer. So, she deepened the kiss, her fingers knotted in his thick hair until he finally pulled away, hissing her name heatedly as his hips stilled.

"My lord," she purred delicately, running her tongue along the side of his neck, pausing when she felt his pulse racing. His fingers finally dragged themselves from the grooves he made in her hips, and she felt him trail them lightly up her back.

"You've soiled my outfit," he told her hoarsely. She grinned.

"You've soiled me."

"I think I did that long ago," he sighed as she planted a soft kiss on his cheek. "I certainly soiled you for your beloved."

She paused and sat up, "Who?"

"Your darling husband?"

Bellatrix barely contained a loud snort, and then rolled her eyes, "Don't be ridiculous-"

"You have affection for him, Bella," he chastised, arching an eyebrow at her. "I always swore I would never take you as a married woman."

"He cheated first," Bellatrix informed him with a shrug. "I look at it as permission to have my own affair."

Both eyebrows shot up at that revelation, and he pushed from hair out of her face, "Regardless, you should still be the dutiful Pureblood wife… It makes me want to ruin you over and over again."

Her heart raced as she smiled, "I suppose I'll do my best in my wifely chores."

"That also means you should go home to him," he insisted. "It's been long enough. He's horribly distracted without you."

"Can't have that, can we?" she mused, kissing him lazily one last time. "Are you kicking me out?"

"Rightfully so, Mrs. Lestrange."

The name seemed foul coming from his lips, but she wasn't one to suddenly spoil the mood. Instead, she had a better idea.

"Give me your cloak as a parting gift," she demanded, pushing it off his shoulders a little. "I want to wear something home."

He chuckled and finally sat up, neither bothering to mention that she was caked in blood and the aftermath of their sex, "Good night, Mrs. Lestrange."

"My lord," she grinned, accepting the cloak and wrapping it around her body. She stumbled out of the dungeon, leaving him on the floor, and quickly located her wand back his bedroom. Nagini stirred when she entered, but only to lick the air and hiss lightly at her before she apparated away.

Bellatrix arrived home in a mess. As she strolled through her foyer, she ignored the house elf that came to greet her, and sauntered up the same stairwell she tumbled down only a week or so ago. Her name echoed from downstairs, and she heard Rodolphus clambering up the stairs after her. However, she felt no twinge of fury, nor a desire to slice him into little bits and pieces. She had done that already. It was over, finally.

"Bellatrix," he called, his voice a little strained. "Where have you been? Narcissa and I were really worried that you'd hurt…"

He trailed off when she turned around, wrapped in the Dark Lord's cloak, blood on her face, evidence of her indiscretion dripping down her thighs. He swallowed thickly, and then cleared his throat, "Where were you, a sacrifice?"

"Consider us even, husband," she told him, the usual tone she took with him back in her voice. He must have realized where she was, but she barely stuck around to watch the hurt show on his face. She needed a very long bath, and then sleep.


AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Good grief this took a long time to write. Almost two weeks of staring at this and it is FINALLY finished. It's really what a Bellamort romance ought to be, no? Poor Rodolphus. I really do feel for the guy. This seems to do well in my polls, so you can expect more regular updates!

Love love love for all my reviewers!