They hadn't spoken in days. Neither person wanted to initiate. They moved camp several times and were perfectly happy to not speak to each other. Lucy assumed the men picked up on how angry she was at him, probably because she made no attempt to conceal her pointed glares.
Scabior for his part just did his job. He hadn't meant to anger her; he had meant to show her her place. He felt weak when she had disobeyed him; like he had to make an example out of her for some odd reason. But every time he closed his eyes and laid down he remembered having to pin her down to keep her from touching him while he was inside her. God, she had been so tight, and he had wanted her so badly. He had been so incredibly frustrated and had a momentary lapse in judgment. He didn't want her to kiss him. He didn't want it to be real. Something inside him, however, told him it was.
They had just rounded up three more muggles. Lucy was sweating from the run as Greyback and the others prepared to apparate with the muggles. She was about to apparate herself when she felt a strong hand on her arm, pulling her.
"Don't," Scabior started, his voice low and menacing.
She looked down to her arm and shrugged him off.
"Let me go," she told him, her chin involuntarily jutting out at him.
He turned his attention back to his crew and nodded. "On with you! We'll be right behind."
Turning back to her he approached her, the same predatory serious look on his face that he'd had several days before. Lucy instinctively backed away as she saw the men apparate out of her peripheral vision.
"Stay away from me," she said, her voice more a growl than words.
She took the next step behind her and realized she was once again pushed up against a tree. She gasped as the bark suddenly bit into her. Scabior kept advancing, tossing his wand to the forest floor, in the moss and leaves.
"I mean it!," she said through clenched teeth, preparing to strike.
He lunged at her and she screamed, pushing him off. He caught her wrists, pulling them behind her, then transferring them both to a single one of his hands. She struggled as best she could, mostly using her shoulders as she let out a string of obscenities.
"What? Have come back for seconds you bloody git!", she said, her head lowered.
"Have you come to leave me completely unsatisfied a second time!," she continued, and with that she spat in his face.
As soon as she did that she froze. She was terrified that she had perhaps angered him and he would beat her, rape her, strangle her, or some combination. She sunk back into the tree, her breathing heavy.
He didn't even move to wipe his cheek. Instead he turned away for a second, almost gathering his thoughts. Then suddenly he wedged a knee between her legs and his free hand went to the waistband of her trousers.
Her head sank, looking to the leaves at her feet. She didn't even care what happened.
He slowly stroked the skin of her abdomen until her breathing hitched. It was an odd feeling; a cross between feeling ticklish and feeling aroused. She tried to bring her legs together, but he took another step, pressing his leg further up towards the juncture of her things. She let out a small wimper.
He worked so quickly; she didn't even realize that his hand was inside her pants. He reached down ever so slowly, running his fingers gently inside her panties, reaching until he found her folds. He parted them and started stroking her, slowly. She let out a muffled groan and sank against him.
He let her wrists go and her hands went immediately about his shoulders, pulling him closer, placing her head, still down, into the crook of his neck.
"Is this what you wanted, my lovely?," he turned slightly and spoke directly in her ear. His breath tickled the small hairs there and she shivered against him. His fingers slowed and he pushed her gently with his shoulder.
"Is it?"
She looked into his eyes and he could see her glassy gaze reflecting obvious lust. She nodded and whispered, "Yes. Oh God, yes. Please...please don't stop."
With that, he used his free arm to crush her to him and she cried out as his fingers sped up, moving quickly against her slickness as she bucked against him.
"I think you liked it," he spoke into her ear again.
"I think you liked it when I used you up," he said softly, gently biting the lobe of her ear. Her knees wobbled, but he steadied her. God, she was so close.
"I bet if I feel you now you'll be wet. I think you like when I have control over you.," he said almost coldly, then reached a finger inside her.
Her muscles clenched as she threw her head back. He took the opportunity to start dragging small kisses up the column of her bare neck.
Soon another finger joined the first as he continued to work on her adding his thumb.
"You sick, sick girl," he said, biting her ear gently.
Lucy heard him say that in her ears and was angry, turned on, disgusted with herself...several things, really. She slapped him across the cheek and he stilled.
Looking her square in the eyes, he gave her a small smirk, and tapped her with his hand inside her pants; a mock slap, nothing hard.
Lucy cried out and moved her hands behind her against the tree as his mouth found her neck and his hand worked furiously to send her over the edge.
She cried out. Her ears sounded funny. Her vision had just flashed white. In the confusion she realized her knees had given way and she was once more on her hands and knees in the leaves. Scabior took several steps so he was in front of her and slowly rubbed his wet hand against his plaid trousers.
Satisfied with himself, he turned away, walking to the clearing. He called over his shoulder, "Well, are you coming or not?"
He turned towards her, looking at her with that smirk she was beginning to despise, picked up his wand, and without another word, he was gone.