Obsession

Chapter 8

Everything was a blur.

The way Bellatrix was dragged into the suite by her master's grasping, long fingers. The way he nearly tore her dress from her before she helped him with the zip, the way she unclasped his outer robes. The way he finally Banished all of their clothes to a pile in the corner until they stood there, naked and panting and kissing one another as if they'd drown otherwise.

His tongue was so eager, so insistent in her mouth, and Bellatrix groaned with want as she tasted wine on him. He pulled her bottom lip between his teeth and shoved her roughly through the parlour of his suite, toward the bedroom. Bellatrix stumbled backward as Voldemort wrenched at the black velvet ribbon binding her straightened hair up into a ponytail. He let it flutter to the ground and paused to kiss her again, his hands going everywhere.

Up her ribcage, squeezing her breasts, around her back to the place where he held her when they danced, down her arms and then lacing her fingers through his. He kissed her through it all, running his fingers through her silky black hair and then growling,

"Shower. Shower, Bella, now."

He dragged her toward the bathroom, a slick black-tiled space in which a cavernous, luxurious shower awaited. He flicked his hand toward the shower, and his wandless magic sent hot water cascading from the broad head on the wall. It started to steam up in the bathroom, and Voldemort smirked down at Bellatrix as he touched her hair.

"It's going wavy," he informed her, and she whispered back,

"It's the steam."

"Good." He pressed her against the cold tile wall and knifed his hand between her thighs, his fingertips brushing over her damp folds. He kissed her so hard that her head slammed back against the tile.

"Shower," she said, and he nodded. He looked more human now than ever, his eyes still dangerous but softened a little. His dark gaze was still aggressive, but now it seemed possessive in a way that made Bellatrix completely soaked between her legs. She followed him past the glass half wall and let him put her straight under the stream of hot water. It soaked her hair, and Bellatrix reached for the glass jar of hair cleanser on the inlaid shelf. She took a little of the cream, not minding its profoundly masculine aroma as she scrubbed at her scalp. She let Voldemort drag smoothing oil through her hair, and when his fingers snarled in her curls, she grinned at him and said in a sly tone,

"It'll be utterly mad when it dries. Curly and frizzy and -"

He cut her off with a kiss, using a bar of soap to scrub at her flesh and then his own. He put some of the soap onto her hands and broke away, encouraging her, to wrap her fingers around his cock. Bellatrix stared down at it, at the way it prodded her abdomen so eagerly. She moved her hands back and forth, utterly taken aback at the deep length, at the unconquerable girth. She found herself asking cautiously,

"Is it... did you take some sort of potion?"

He laughed at her then, and Bellatrix glared up at him with gall she didn't know she'd possessed. Voldemort shook his head and said rather snidely,

"I didn't even know it was particularly large until a fellow seventh-year Slytherin, a promiscuous girl called Myrandae, let me take her one time and then told the entirety of Hogwarts about just how big I was."

He seemed awfully proud of himself, and now it was Bellatrix's turn to laugh. She swirled her palm around his tip and made him hiss, and his right hand flew to the tile wall as Bellatrix said,

"I doubt you corrected her. Myrandae. I'll bet you let her go about bragging about this... didn't you, Master?"

"Are you taunting me, Bella?" He gave her a warning look, but she shook her head and let the warm water rinse off his enormous member.