"Master…"

She kept whispering that word, like it was some sort of prayer, as he yanked her dress up and off. He unhooked her bra and tossed it aside, and he wrenched her knickers down and threw them over the side of the bed. He stood up beside the bed and stared at her, at her naked body, and as he unclasped his brocade robe, he informed her,

"You're very pretty."

"Mmm." Bellatrix arched her back up a little, seeming hungry as she watched Voldemort shuck his outer robe and let it fall to the ground. Her right hand went between her legs, her fingers pulsing there, and he went harder than ever as he grunted softly and peeled off his black shirt. He unbuttoned his trousers and shoved them down with his underwear, kicking his shoes and socks off and shoving it all away. He stood beside her, stroking at his cock, and her eyes went wide.

"You don't remember, do you?" he asked quietly. "You don't remember what a man's cock looks like."

"No." Bellatrix sat up softly, reaching for him, wrapping her fingers around him and seeming to marvel for a moment before she said, "It's like velvet on stone."

"Mmph. Bellatrix." Voldemort tipped his head back and pushed his hips into her hand, encouraging her to stroke a little. When her thumb drifted over his tip, he hissed loudly, and she repeated the motion. He wrenched her hand away and ordered her, "Stop."

"Why?" she demanded, and he glared down at her.

"Because you're going to make me come," he told her, and she smirked. She bravely reached for him again, her fingers dancing around his tip, and her cheeks darkened. Voldemort let her stroke him, let her defy him, until everything started to go too tight, and he yanked her hand away again.

"Stop."

"Sorry." Bellatrix's eyes were round and sparkling, so beautiful, and he crawled onto the bed to hover above her. He reached down to feel between her legs, and when he sensed how wet she was, he shut his eyes and whispered,

"Your body wants this."

"Obviously," she scoffed quietly, and he ignored her insolence so he could bend to kiss at her breast. He planted kisses all along the small, soft cushion of her breast and then dragged her nipple between his lips, suckling hard until she clutched at his head and moaned loudly.

"That hurts a little," she complained, and he let up a bit from how hard he was sucking. He licked, soothing her nipple inside his mouth, and she whispered, "Better."

He massaged her other breast with his hand, flicking at her nipple with his thumb, and then he moved his mouth up to her neck. His mouth latched naturally onto her skin there, and she gasped. Her fingernails began stroking and rubbing circles on his scalp, which felt quite nice, and Voldemort murmured,

"I think I have wanted this for… a long while."

"I think we both have, Master," Bellatrix guessed, and he responded by licking hard from the crook of her neck up to the place beneath her ear. He suckled on the lobe of her ear and whispered,

"I want it now. I want you now, Bella. I do."

"Master." She kept stroking his scalp, making him shiver, and he reached between her legs again. She was so wet that he just let his fingers sit there for a moment, let her body drip and leak all over him in her intense arousal. She squirmed a bit, and he kissed her heated cheek and instructed her,

"Spread your legs and bring them up around my waist, Bella."

"All right," she whispered, sounding very breathless. She was so soaked that her fluids were streaming slowly down the inside of her thigh, and Voldemort stroked over her entrance to feel that it was inflamed and warm. She was beyond ready for him. Her body would receive him and finish for him, he knew. She did as he'd commanded and brought her legs up around him as he knelt above her, and he brought his torso up, staring down at Bellatrix.

She was so damned pretty, he thought. Her nipples were dark and hard, standing at attention from her pillowy breasts. The pink flush of her arousal had leached from her cheeks down her neck and over her shoulders, and she was panting a little, her lips parted and her eyes glazed a little. Her curls were messy, lying around her face on the pillow, and Voldemort informed her again,

"You're very pretty, Bellatrix."

She smiled just a little, for once not looking snarky. He aimed the tip of his cock at her swollen, sopping entrance, and when he slid in, her body welcomed him with a tight, warm embrace. Her eyes rolled back a little, and her hands clutched at the sheets, and she whispered,

"Oh. Oh, oh…"

"Bella." Voldemort reached for her narrow hips, holding onto her and feeling a sudden flush of satisfaction as he stroked a few times. Every push in sent heat through his ears, and every drag out blurred his vision. He was dizzy after just a few thrusts, and he knew he wouldn't last. He'd gone far too long without a woman to last, and she was entirely too pretty, and he cared for her beyond mere lust. He shut his eyes and pumped his hips like a machine, reaching between him and Bellatrix and stroking at her clit. He tried to focus on pleasuring her, on keeping his motions smooth and steady.

"Oh!" She was tensing around him. Her legs were squeezing around his waist. Her hands were flailing at his bare stomach. "Master… Master! Oh!"

She was coming, he realised, and he sped his hips up as he felt her body clenching snugly around his cock. He forced his eyes open to see her twisting a little on the mattress, her back arched up and her mouth fallen open. He took his thumb from her clit, and she squeezed at his arms as she whispered,

"Oh, Merlin's Beard, Master…"

"Bella." He jerked his hips roughly, unable to keep up his pace or his rhythm as a sudden wave of pleasure took him over. He stopped then, for a snap of bliss whipped through his veins, and he felt his come pumping into Bellatrix's body in spurts. He burned with satisfaction for a warm moment, and he whispered her name a few times, and then all of a sudden he wanted to hold her.

He stayed still for a long while, until his cock started to go soft and his come was leaking out of Bellatrix's body, and then he let himself slide out of her. He wanted to lie down beside her, he thought. He wanted to curl up with her, both of them naked, and hold her. He wanted to kiss her dewy forehead and mutter to her that she was beautiful and she'd pleased him, that he felt good and that she'd made his body come alive. He wanted to tell her that she wasn't a terrible distraction, that he didn't mind being with her at all, that he very much enjoyed the physicality of being with her. He wanted to tell her that he thought she was intelligent and beautiful, that he liked her just fine the way she was now.

Instead he reached for his wand and Scoured and Siphoned, and then he stood up and was silent as he got dressed. He handed Bellatrix her knickers and bra and dress, and as she pulled on her clothes, he told her,

"You need to send an owl to your father about your grandmother. I'll get in touch with Rodolphus; he'll need to be extra careful to protect you at the funeral."

"All right," Bellatrix said quietly. She sat on the bed with her knees pulled up to her chest, and she seemed completely shocked. Voldemort clasped up his brocade outer robe and asked crisply,

"Something wrong?"

"Is it always that good?" she asked plainly, and he just shook his head and answered,

"No."

Her cheeks went a little dark, and she blinked a few times. She just nodded and whispered,

"Thank you."

Voldemort twirled his wand in his hand and hesitated, and then he said carefully,

"I'm sorry about your grandmother."

Bellatrix nodded once more and whispered again,

"Thank you."

"Goodnight, Bellatrix." Voldemort felt sick leaving her, for some reason, but she just blinked rapidly and mumbled,

"Night."

He bent and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, and then an even gentler one on her lips, and he whispered more affectionately,

"Goodnight, Bella."

Her lips were still near his and her breath was shaking and warm as she answered him, "Goodnight, My Lord."

He stood then, nodding tightly at her, and he tucked his wand away as he walked as quickly as he possibly could from her bedroom, feeling more sated and more hungry than he'd ever felt in his life.

Author's Note: Yeahhhhhhh! They actually did it! Woo hoo! Now for her grandmother's funeral… what could possibly go wrong? I am standing up in a wedding tomorrow and have events scheduled from 7:00 am until midnight, so I won't be able to write at all until Sunday. In the meantime, please do let me know what you think of the story thus far. Thanks for reading!