His sweet witch stared at him with those big eyes that always told him everything he needed to know. She was surprised and frustrated that he didn't let her finish the job, but more than that, her usually honey brown eyes were dark with lust. Even now, when his hand in her hair pulled her head back too far and his other hand squeezed too tightly, there was nothing but need in those eyes.
He inched closer, pressing his body against hers. She twitched in response, an instinctive reaction as though she meant to rub herself against him. He smiled broadly.
"Such a good little witch," he purred, "taking my cock so well. You deserve a reward for that."
He let go of her hair then, sliding his hand over her trembling body, so hot from both the shower and her arousal. When his fingers reached between her legs, she whined and opened her legs further.
He gave her one long stroke, delighting in how wet she was. She loved sucking his cock, that much was clear. Kneeling before him, utterly at his mercy, deprived of air, she was drooling for him. Even now, he wondered whether she was wet because of his fingers between her thighs or because of his hand that continued to strangle her.
He held her gaze, those open, flaming eyes, as he slowly sank just one finger into her. Her mouth fell open for a heartbeat, before she bit down hard on her bottom lip. He could almost feel her swallow a moan under his hand. Grinning, he squeezed just a little more.
Her eyes grew big and finally, there was a hint of fear mixed into her lust. "Wait. That's too much."
Instead of an answer, he pulled out his finger again, moving slightly away from her as he did. She blinked, trying to shake her head, but he did not let go. He thrust his finger back in again, just as he pressed his body harder against her and squeezed even more. Desperate hands gripped his arm, but he held firm.
"I can't breathe," she wheezed, "please stop! My lord! Stop!"
He ignored her. His hand began to move in a slow rhythm, his finger slipping in and out of her in time with his body pressing harder against her and moving back, just as he released the hold on her throat ever so slightly with each pull back. His whole body was moving against her, emphasising the forceful movement of his one finger.
Every time he thrust back in and squeezed her throat, a painful whimper escaped her lips. Tears stood in her eyes, threatening to spill over, as she desperately pleaded with him to stop. But he would not.
Not as long as he had a point to prove.
Not as long as he felt her hot cunt leak more and more wetness, coating his hand in her juices.
Her nails dug into the skin on his arms, still fighting, but her pleas for mercy stopped. With tears streaking down her face, her mouth half open, she gave herself over to his rhythm. He could feel her hips move in tandem with his hands and he could feel the quiet moans against his hand that was still holding her throat.
Everything in him screamed to replace his finger with his cock. Just plunge into her, forgetting any designs he had, and to take what was rightfully his. Her moans turned into cries, needy and wanton, completely taken over by her lust. She wanted him to take her, that pure innocent body of hers screamed at him to rip her apart.
With a hiss, he stepped back, pulling her with him by the throat. Then he turned her around and violently pushed her chest first against the tiles of the shower wall. She cried out in shock and again in pain as he thrust two fingers back into her. One hand splayed on her back, pressing her against the wall, he resumed a harsh and fast rhythm. All he could do was stare at her arse as she arched her back into his hand. His hard length was only inches away from her opening. It would be so easy to replace his fingers with it.
"Oh god." A pleading sob from Hermione's lip tore him from his revery. "Please, please, please." She was desperate, he could hear it in her voice. No longer pleading with him to stop, but rather begging for more.
With a groan, he closed his eyes. He never stopped his fingers from moving, but he fought down his own desire. This was not for his blind pleasure. He had a purpose, and mindlessly fucking her in the shower was not part of that.
He could feel her start to tremble under his hands. Her breath came in short puffs, laced with high pitched moans and sobs. She was close, so very close. He could see her ball her hands into fists, pressing her head harder against the wall as she chased her high. With more force than before, he thrust his fingers into her again one last time.
Then he pulled out and away, letting go of her, stepping back. He just barely caught himself before his hand grabbed his leaking cock. Instead, he moved to the faucet and turned the water off.
"No!" Her sob was beautiful in its frustration. "What are you doing?"
Breathing heavily, her cheeks flushed and her breasts heaving, she turned around. He almost devoured her right then and there. To the flaming hot need in her eyes, there now was also added an equally fiery rage. Oh, she hated him in this moment, he could almost taste it.
"You were naughty, my sweet," he growled as he stepped closer again, careful not to touch her. "Naughty witches need to be punished."
Both her hands flew to her face, rubbing over it several times as she seemed to try and calm down. "Punishment would mean I did something wrong. But I didn't! I did exactly what you told me!"
He grabbed her hands away from her face. Not letting go, he pulled her out of the shower and in front of the mirror. With a wave of his hand, he cleared the mist. Then he embraced her with both arms, pulling her back flush against his stomach. He ignored the insistent throbbing of his cock that was still single-mindedly concerned with sinking into her.
Instead, he grabbed her chin with one hand and forced her to look into the mirror. "See, Hermione? Everything you see in there is mine. Not just your body. The way you look right now, all flush and eager, that is mine too. You are not allowed to freely show that to anyone else, do you understand?"
Her mouth opened several times as she held his glare in the mirror. Again, he could see her mind working, anger and frustration and confusion and lust all swirling in her bright eyes.
She shook her head. "I don't! I don't understand!"
He believed her. This little witch had so very obviously no idea what her eager face did to the men around her. To Severus, her valiant knight. It would not do.
"Then, my sweet," he whispered into her ear, "you will have to live with the consequences until you figure it out."
He didn't give her time to react. With a small push, he sent her stumbling forward. While she was catching herself, he summoned his wand into his hand and his robes into his arms. Then, he disapparated without another word. She would have to live with her punishment until she understood.
If she was as eager as he expected her to be, she would not take long.
He felt unsteady on his feet as he appeared in his own room. All his body wanted to do was find release. He was still unbearably hard. His witch was still so close, only two doors between them. Naked as he was, he grabbed the edge of his desk and closed his eyes.
He was in control of himself, even in this cursed body. He would not succumb to his baser instincts. It would be Hermione who suffered through her need, not him. Never him.
A soft knock startled him out of his strained concentration. It came from the door leading to the corridor, not the one separating him from Hermione. He inhaled slowly.
Without bothering to put on clothes, he opened the door just enough to see who was disturbing him. "Bella."
Her eyes grew round as she took in his naked chest. "My lord. I apologise for the sudden intrusion. If this is not a good time…"
She left the words hanging in the air between them. The way she eyed him, her gaze travelling down to his hips and back up as she licked her lips, was enough to understand her intentions. For a long second, he simply stared at her.
She used to share his bed. She had similarly unruly curls as Hermione. She would be more than happy to let him fuck her. Even now he could see the eager gleam in her eyes. And his body was still unsatisfied. His cock hard and throbbing. He could just throw her on his bed and fuck her until he finally found release.
Slowly, almost as if by its own accord, his hand rose to touch her cheek. Bellatrix leaned into the touch, pushing out her barely covered breasts and sighing like a parched person tasting water after days without. The sound went straight to his cock. Yes. She was exactly what he needed right now.
He pulled her half-way into his room, relishing the feel of her body against his. With a grin on his lips, he tilted her head back, locking her gaze with his. He could see the smile on her lips in return, just as he could see the cool triumph in her eyes.
With a disgusted sneer, he pushed her back. "I have no need for your services, Bella, however delighted you are in providing them. Get out of my sight."
"My lord?" He could hear shock and rage in her tone, but he had no more patience for her.
Not bothering to even look at her again, he slammed the door shut. This woman would never be able to give him what he needed. He should have known better. Even back in the 70s, he got tired of her after just one night with Hermione. Her eagerness was fake, her insanity appalling. That he contemplated using her for even a second spoke to the deranged need Hermione evoked in him.
He felt the desire slowly evaporate. The sight of Bellatrix, all eager without any real arousal, triumphant and haughty, would leave any man turned off. Especially when compared to Hermione.
Cursing, he shook his head. No. He would not think about his sweet witch now. It would only set his blood aflame again. He was more disciplined than that. She was the one who drowned in her own desire. So young, so inexperienced. She was brilliant and more powerful than any witch or wizard her age should be. But her sharp mind did not protect her from falling victim to her own body.
He could imagine it vividly, how she was just now cowering on the bathroom floor, sobbing with need and frustration. Her intellect would provide the answer soon, allow her to see her error in her dealings with Severus. And then she would return to him, humbled and more submissive, agreeing that what she did was wrong. She would throw herself to his feet, ask him to take her.
And he would decline.
He hissed. It was time he stopped thinking about her. He was hard again, despite his earlier efforts. Determined, he banished all images of Hermione from his mind as he gripped his cock.