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In The Pale Moonlight	By : MikaLero Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female Views: 1629 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: All characters within, as well as the world of "Harry Potter" as a whole, are the intellectual property of J.K. Rowling. I just like to play naughty with them now and then. Purely for personal enjoyment. No profit of any kind is being made.

Chapter List
- 1-In The Pale Moonlight
- 1
It was night, of course. The wind lilted through the tree branches and the moon was full. Voldemort stood outside, not far from his filthy rat father's grave. Closing his eyes he took in a deep breath of the dank, foggy air. Mold, and death, and decay. It pleased him. It was good to get outside every now and then. Especially on nights like this.

Bellatrix meandered up behind her Master, skipping in a winding path through the graveyard, before jumping over a smaller grave, to sit on its headstone. She propped her elbows on her knees, her chin in her lace gloved hands, and looked sideways at him. "If only it were raining..." she mused, smirking. She could not begin to describe what his mere presence did to her - the elation, the euphoria. It was her poison, and she basked in it greedily.

His chin was tilted up as he bathed in the moonlight. Yes, rain would have been a lovely touch to the evening. A slight arch of his brow was the only initial indication he gave to being aware of her presence. After another moment his eyes opened and he glanced briefly towards her. Wordlessly, he beckoned her to join him with an outstretched hand. That she had, and would kill, torture, maim... even die for him he did not doubt. Though even he admitted he wasn't ever entirely sure at any given moment what proportions of her devotion was composed of absolute loyalty, or complete insanity.

She stood, and stepped towards him, curious as to what his intentions held. Peering around as though she were meant to notice something he had seen, she ducked beneath his arm and settled closer to him. "What is it?" she asked, still casting her eyes about warily.

His arm settled neatly about her shoulders as he pulled her comfortably close. His eyes closed again, and almost seemed to concentrate. "Shh.... Listen." he whispered, his voice soft and resonating with an odd sort of gentleness. "Can't you hear them?"
Far off in the distance, the howling of a werewolf pack echoed in the night. They were in no danger.

Bella relaxed, almost immediately, the moment she was nestled against him, his arms around her. She listened, almost too intently, her brows knitting, her eyes never closing, for the 'them' he spoke of.
And there it was, a faint howl, and then another and another. Bella nodded, not near as entranced by the werewolves' howls as he seemed. Wrinkling her nose, her mouth twitched sideways in a small pout.

After a few more moments of listening, he chuckled. Opening his eyes, he turned his head to press a kiss to the top of her head. He was always in tune with her moods, whether actively delving into her thoughts, or merely observing her air and posture.
"What's the matter my dear?"

"They're just mutts." she scoffed, more jealous that they were allowed to run about as they pleased than she would like to admit. She missed being able to go wherever, whenever, without the threat of being returned to a prison cell.

The Dark Lord's lips twitched slightly in amusement. It was certainly a sentiment he could understand. He shifted his position to stand more fully behind her, his arms wrapped very possessively about her waist. "One day, my darling, we will all have that freedom again. His lips were grazing just over her ear as he spoke, one of his hands running up her chest to ghost over her neck.

Bella tilted her head back, her lips parting in a contented smile. Her chest rose and fell with her breathing. She did love basking in his presence, especially when his hands were moving so deftly about her curves. She couldn't help but laugh, and allowed one of her hands to rest upon his own.

One hand kept her head tilted back as he began to bite and nip along her neck. His other hand slid down from her hip, teasing with his fingers and cupping through the material of her dress between her legs with a firm pressure. He quickly became dissatisfied with his efforts and began to hike up her skirt.

Bellatrix kept her hand over his own, helping him find his way between her thighs through her dress. She wasn't expecting the sudden surge of eagerness, however, and let out a little cry of surprise, nearly falling forward with his attempts to get through her skirt. Finding a better foothold, she removed her hand from his own and braced herself against the large statuesque tomb, a bit annoyed that she wasn't facing him and able to return his advances.

He sensed her impatience, and her eagerness. Oh eventually he would give her what she wanted. But for now he toyed with her, her building anticipation and trapped frustration feeding his own energy. Successful in his efforts to find a proper way into her skirts, he teased her mercilessly. Those soft, whimpering, begging noises she made set his blood on fire.

She clawed at the stone with anticipation and aphrodisia, carnal little growls escaping her lips. Oh, he was cruel, pure and unabashed evil! 'Finish me!' she wanted to cry, but held her tongue as a wave of release attacked her, causing her back to arch. She bit her lip to keep from crying outright, as a drop of blood trickled down her chin.

Voldemort hissed very softly into her ear. Not in anger of any sort, but in a tell-tale sign of his own arousal. Spinning her around, he claimed her mouth with his own, sucking on her bloodied lip. Hiking one of her legs up against his hip, he braced her back against the rough stone. With his other, he tugged and unbuttoned, exposing just enough... Slamming that hand against the stone beside her head, he thrust up into her.

Her hungry laugh and cries of ecstasy were largely silenced by his mouth on hers. Returning his ardor in kind, she flung an arm around his neck and used the momentum of his thrusts to wrap both legs around his waist. Her other hand snaked to the back of his head, her thumb cupped beneath his ear, no matter that her own head was being shoved repeatedly against the rough surface of the gravestone.

He ravaged her mouth with his, trailing more bites and kisses down her neck. His teeth made a noticeable impression in the pale, round flesh of one of her breasts. All the while his pace remained steady. After a little while, he slid his arms about her waist again, bracing her against him as he stepped back. Surprisingly, he lowered them both to the ground, rolling to his back and setting her atop him, his hands grasping firmly on her hips.

Surprising flexibility for a man you all believed dead! Bellatrix screamed her thoughts to unseen nay-sayers in her twisted little mind. His thin lips ticked upwards as she bent to kiss him, clamping her lips over his once more, before moving to his chin and then neck. The whole while she rode him, her drive punctuated by little lascivious grunts.

Using what leverage he had with his back against the ground, he bucked his hips upward to meet hers. His brow was beginning to furrow with the effort it took to maintain his outward composure. He was not one to give into primal displays and exortations of lust. Though they were alone...His jaw clenched and his hissing through clenched teeth became more pronounced. It was beginning to wear thin his control, and it showed.

Bellatrix had risen from her ministrations about his neck to look down on him. She had managed to unbutton his collar in the process and had left little blistering blooms in her wake. She smiled with pride when she noticed he too was enjoying himself.
"Let it out." she whispered, dangerously. If he became displeased with her there was no telling what he might do in his current state. Still, the risk was half the fun. "I won't tell anyone." she added, rocking her hips more violently to add to his gratification.

He growled, deep in his throat, eyes flashing just as dangerously. With a guttural, feral sound he flipped them again, towering over her as he became to thrust into her with a violent, and reckless abandon.

She clung to him with the sudden motion, only to have the wind knocked out of her as she felt her back pound into the dirt. She gasped louder with each thrust and dug her fingers into his shoulders and back, through his robes, too overwhelmed to keep her eyes open. Still, she found it in her to taunt him again. "One little moan for me? Just one?" she rasped.

With blinding speed, one pale hand shot out to grasp her neck with a somewhat uncomfortable firmness. He didn't slow his movements, nor did his pace falter. His eyes bored into her, lingering over every bit of her face - her heavy lidded eyes, flushed skin, and parted lips, gasping and panting for him. For him, as for no other.

"Taunt not the Devil my sweet..." he whispered, harsh and ragged.

Relaxing his grip, he ran his thumb over her jawline and dipped his face to her neck and inhaled, nipping at a tender spot. "It's dangerous."

His own breath was coming in sharper, shorter bursts as his peak was nearing. His hips bucked sharply, release coming a moment sooner than he'd expected it. She got her wish, a long, low, drawn out groan of pleasure sounding in her ear as he spilled inside of her.

Bella let out a little flutter of a laugh. Her legs were still wrapped about his waist as she tried to hold him to her, though, being much smaller in stature, she merely managed to cling to him instead.

I would bear you an heir, a thousand, if I could.

The lustful ferver that had overtaken him was gone, and though he made no real effort to seperate himself from her. His eyes slid closed and he nuzzled her neck briefly before lifting his head to look at her. His lips curled in a not at all wholesome smile as he chuckled. "I know you would, my dear. You are hardly a crone afterall." The implication being that she might yet do so, if their liaisons kept up such a pace.

She smiled up at him, her expression well-pleased. "And you..." she closed her eyes, another aftershock of pleasure washing over her. "are too immaculate for words." Her eyes were still closed as she rocked her head from side to side. "I could hardly do you justice." she told him playfully, opening her eyes, as a smug little smirk alit on her features.

His look was teasingly reproachful. She was fishing for his praise, when really she need not. That she was in the position she was.. pinned beneath him... should have been indication enough of his favor. Still, there was no use in denying her, and little harm in indulging her, to a point. He nestled his nose in her hair and breathed deeply. There was something implacably intoxicating about the way she smelled to him.

"I would have one from no other."
- 1
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In The Pale Moonlight