Absolution | By : Nephy Category: Harry Potter > FemSlash - Female/Female Views: 7423 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Title: Absolution
Rating: R, NC-17ish
Pairing: Bellatrix/Ginerva
Warnings: slight bondage, femmeslash, Solo
Disclaimer: I own it not though the things I would do if I did >^ . ^<
Absolution
She does this every night as if it were prayer lying on her back instead of
kneeling next to the bed, whispering the name of her own god, fingers fondling
flesh as opposed to clutching to a rosary. From her lips spill the secrets she
is afraid to let touch the light of day and from her mind come the images she
would be far to afraid to describe lest somebody overhear, always holding back
from crying out the name of the one whom holds her never allowing that comfort.
The profanities that flow from her lips would
shock anyone that had known her in the past. But then again most things about
her would shock them now, things she does that they can never understand, that
they could never comprehend. Well that’s a lie; there is one person from that
time that understands. They know her from a time when she was... naïve, she doesn’t
dare say that she was an innocent, oh far from it, ever since her first year,
innocence was not an option and she was only to happy to discard it.
She moans as the fingertips of someone
seeking atonement for some unknown sin press down caressing breasts not large
but not small smooth flesh rounded by time, following the curves of a slender
body made hard by war. Her voice fails her as the hands continue brushing past
hips made to swell by age and venturing further down into the red hair, course,
so different from the hair on her head but no less well maintained, trimmed to
a neatness that is perfection. Her voice returns full force letting out a moan
that is more a whimper as fingertips press against the little bundle of nerves
and then are removed by hands that are cold, hands that are not her own.
“You
started without me,” are the only words that the owner of those hands says, not
an accusation, not a question, a statement, a fact, “I told you not to.”
For a moment she is afraid that this darker
woman is going to leave her like this, command her not to touch herself, it
would not be the first time she had done so and it most certainly would not be
the last, she is surprised however when the ice cold hands begin to touch her.
Sliding a fingertip over a soft rose colored nipple and then taking the nipple
into a mouth only warmer by comparison to the hand; the mouth is anything but
gentle as it sucks and bites at the nipple hardening beneath its ministrations.
She arches her back attempting to press her breast further into the darker
woman’s mouth.
A word is spoken softly whispered against her
skin and she feels her wrist being bound to the bed but she doesn’t care
because the feeling of those lips on her skin make it impossible to think about
anything else, even the pain of the rope digging into her wrists, leaving angry
red lines that will, if given the time, begin to bleed. And oh but the mouth is
sucking again, harder pushing thoughts of pain further from the grasp of her
already fevered mind.
“Bella
please...”
Her moan is cut short by the ice cold lips
pressing against hers and before she has had time to respond to the dizzying
kiss the lips are gone
“Now now, Ginerva, what have I told you about using that ridiculous
nickname, it is Bellatrix, not Bella and most
certainly not Belle. If you insist on calling me that I will have to leave you
like this, bound to the bed” She shivers knowing Bellatrix
is telling the truth, knowing that even as she is sliding down Ginerva’s flushed and heated body Bellatrix
would not hesitate to leave her there writhing on that bed tied and unable to
cool the fire making its way through her skin.
She gasps when Bellatrix’s
mouth finds its way past all of her curves past her hips through the neatly
trimmed hair and to that small bundle of nerves sucking nowhere near softly.
“Bellatrix Bellatrix bellatrixbellatrix,”
the words mix together a litany falling from her tongue, the only words
possible from a girl drowning in a sea of what only Bellatrix
can provide.
She yelps when she feels teeth no warmer then
the mouth itself pinch against the skin and the yelp changes to a moan when she
feels the fingers cold as ice slide inside her, first one then two then three
and she is writing on the spot screaming how much she wants the woman before
her the woman who is making her cry out in delicious agony as she comes with
every remaining ounce of her energy. The woman whom is shaking her?
Ginny opens her eyes slowly to see Hermione
sitting on the edge of her bed looking at her with eyes filled with concern. “Gin? You okay?” Hermione’s voice cuts the silence like a
knife. Ginny nods and grasps Hermione’s hand so warm… smiling almost sadly,
“Just… just a dream”
And when Hermione is gone, when Ginerva has calmed
her with soothing words and kisses, when she is alone, she allows her
fingertips to slide under the covers, up her nightgown and into the neatly
trimmed hair that is now soaked with wetness.
She does this every night as if it were
prayer…
Absolution, the name of a
Goddess on her lips.
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