Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

The Forbidden Ship	By : Nerys Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 18082 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter series nor any of the characters from the books/movies. I don't make money from writing this fanfiction.

Chapter List
- 5
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Adult codes: BP, Dom, MC, CR, Fingering, M/F, PWP, violence.

Prompt: Yoga Mat

He’d become something short of an addiction to her, Hermione realised as she stared into those burning red eyes with their oddly slit pupils. Why else would she come back, time and time again, knowing that nothing she said made a difference to his plans, knowing that he’d not changed one iota for her, knowing that he still valued that insane prophecy despite her extremely valid arguments to the contrary, knowing that she was expected to undress the second she arrived in his presence.

Yet, here she stood, nude before that towering, dark presence; her head tilted back in order to maintain eye contact. He never allowed her to look away, no matter where they were. And she never knew where she was going to arrive when he summoned her. This time, she’d arrived in an unknown location in what seemed to have been a gym of some sorts. Her eyes quickly had taken in the large mirrors on the wall, the numerous colourful yoga mats on the floor, and the raw flesh, bones and blood splattered around everywhere, coating every inch of the environment.

Despite having arrived at an obvious crime scene, she’d undressed as always, almost mechanically—the thrumming of the Dark Mark inside of her sex fought off the urge to vomit and run. She’d been unable to avoid touching the remains, blood staining the clothes that she’d dropped on the floor, her bare feet soaking in it, sliding and causing her to almost fall, and the stench … the stench had nearly overwhelmed her. Just when she’d been about to perform a Disapparition, his magic had weaved over her, making her sway on her feet with the increasing desire its presence caused and taking away the apprehension and disgust she’d felt. He’d closed in on her shortly after, his black robes flowing around him like they were an intricate part of his body.

‘You’re conditioning me,’ she whispered hoarsely—she always had such a hard time to think rationally when he invaded her personal space.

His seemingly lipless mouth curved barely visible and there was a brief dilation in his pupils that betrayed his pleasure. She wouldn’t have noticed it months ago. It was hard to read a face that was so inhuman and alien. The lack of a nose, the slit-for-nostrils, the blue veins visible in that nearly transparent, flawless skin, the lack of hair, that red gaze, all of it distracted the attention away from his emotions—not to mention that he was a Master at blank expressions. However, she’d forced herself to pay attention and nowadays she was very familiar with the true meaning behind his numerous poker faces.

‘You still come back,’ he said in that low, soft murmur he used only on her.

‘How could I not when I’m being conditioned?’ she countered, enjoying the feeling of his silk robes brushing against her bare legs due to the small draft in the place.

‘So clever,’ he whispered, stroking her forehead before burying his hand into her curls. As always when he did that, her hair fluffed out in reaction—magical sparks interchanging between them. She wished he didn’t enjoy the outward display of her hair so much; it always took days before it had settled back to its normal bushy state somewhat.

‘So powerful,’ he continued, tightening the grip on her hair harshly.

It made her feel weak in the knees and caused a shiver to travel up her spine, though not from the cold. Wherever they were, be it indoors or outdoors, he always kept the temperature insanely high. Maybe because some of his internal biology had altered to resemble a snake’s as well, and he needed it to function, she wondered.

‘Always so many inquiries about me,’ he mused into her ear, ‘I can’t help but question your motives behind it.’ Languidly, he drew his tongue over her throat before capturing her earlobe between his teeth. He nibbled on it, then, tucked on it lightly before letting go and meeting her eyes again.

‘You know everything about me, including my motives,’ Hermione replied, not fooled by his words. ‘I’m laid bare before you in every way: body and mind. You’ve placed your mark inside of me in a manner so I’d never be able to escape your ownership of me, and yet, you still insist to put my loyalties in question. It’s insulting.’

‘Is it?’ he asked, tilting his bald head. A vicious glint ran through his eyes and his free hand wrapped around her throat, gently squeezing before moving down and massaging her breast; her nipple already stood at attention before he even touched it. ‘We both know you’re not truly here with me for me.’

‘Like you’re here only for me,’ she sarcastically sneered.

‘Oooh, I’m most certainly here for you … Hermione,’ he smoothly whispered—her name slithered from his tongue like a caress, wrapping around her like a snake. It made her lose focus for a moment, her pupils dilating as she shuddered before regaining her senses.

She opened her mouth and his hand forcefully grabbed her chin, stopping her almost immediate objections to his statement. The tension between them rose as he slowly drew his thumb over her titillated lips before pushing it into her mouth. Their eye contact intensified as she sucked on his thumb and then every other digit he inserted into her mouth after it.

‘You came to me,’ he murmured, trailing her body with the back of his hand until he reached that place she most longed for him to touch, ‘to save your precious friend from a destiny that is inevitable.’ A small smile covered his face when she, obediently, spread her legs somewhat to allow him access. ‘From a destiny that you will assist me in. However, right now, you still want me to spare him, don’t you, my filthy little Mudblood?’ he suddenly snarled, his face contorting into a hideous, wrathful mask.

Sparks flashed in front of her vision; her knees buckled; her hands grasped on his robes as she collapsed against his body; and she couldn’t think anymore when, upon that question, he’d immediately curved his hand around her pubic region and sent a burst of his magic inside of her. It connected with the Dark Mark there and sent tingles throughout her entire body, raising her need for him to unimaginable heights.

‘Answer me,’ he hissed, yanking on her hair and putting her back on her feet to support her own weight.

Slightly dazed, Hermione opened her mouth to acknowledge his statements. Yet, already his fingers were moving through her curls, expertly stroking over that sensitive nub. It was like he electrified her, sending sparks of pleasure straight into her core, and all she could utter was an elongated moan.

‘What do you want?’ he asked gently, breathing against the sensitive, wet skin of her throat.

She shuddered in response; goosebumps raised on her flesh, while her mind automatically focused on that burning need inside. With every breath she took, it became harder and harder to ignore. Suddenly, that awful, sickening smell of blood and meat was back, and she blinked.

Not here, not among those bo—

He inserted a single digit inside of her and rotated it, stroking her inner walls while rubbing her clit with his thumb. Immediately, she clenched around him, wanting … needing so much more, enabling her to ignore the pervasive stench.

‘Please.’

‘Please, what?’ he teased, stretching his finger and touching the Dark Mark.

It was like he’d set her on fire; Hermione clutched to his robes as her loud scream of ecstasy echoed through the room. Yet, the blissful feeling slipped away far too fast; her hips pushed towards his hand, begging for more nonverbally, but he denied her the pleasure she craved. That pleasure that was now so all-consuming on her mind that the world could be falling apart at the seams around her and she wouldn’t have cared.

‘Please, please,’ she begged desperately.

‘What do you want, Mudblood?’

‘You, please, please.’ Upon seeing the displeasure flashing across his snakelike features, she quickly added, ‘Please, fuck me, my Lord.’

Those red eyes swiftly searched her face. Apparently pleased with what he found there, he pressed his mouth over hers, seeking entry with his tongue that she dutifully allowed. Kissing him was like being in heaven, like she was floating on top of the highest cloud. Once he started, she never wanted it to end. It seemed as if her body needed it to function, like his kiss touched all her senses; she could feel it all the way down to her toes as his tongue explored hers, as he pressed her body tightly against his, as she breathed the air from his lungs.

Her eyelids fluttered. This was the only time he ever was all right with her loss of focus and didn’t demand her attention. Her feet lost their grip on the slippery underground as he lowered her to the floor. Hermione spread her legs for him automatically, not considering why that yoga mat underneath her back was so slick.

Or so red.

White replaced black when he vanished his robes with a flick of his wrist as he hovered above her, his hand supporting himself beside her head whilst he sat on his knees between her legs. His skin almost gleamed in the fluorescent light of the gym; her eyes flickered over his strong body in appreciation, halting at his cock, which became harder and harder upon her attention. Subconsciously, Hermione licked her lips.

‘Look at me.’

Reluctantly, she drew her attention away from his cock, her eyes going over his belly, chest, throat, that deceitfully seemingly lipless mouth and the lacking nose until she made contact with his eyes again. That burning gaze locked her, stilled her in place. She was captured by it, everywhere she looked there was redness, swimming in her eyes. Even in her peripheral vision, there was redness she realised as he drew his hand through something red on the floor.

‘I’ve always wondered how this would look on you,’ he said barely above a whisper as he smeared a cold, wet, slick substance over her face.

A shiver ran down her spine as her mind briefly reconnected with what that was exactly. Then, her back arched off the floor and she groaned as his magic washed over her, cocooning her in and demanding all her attention. Her whole skin tingled in anticipation, desiring his touch first and foremost. His red gaze was transfixed on her, following the path of his fingers as they left behind a crimson trail of blood in the wake of his caress. He slowly moved from her forehead to her cheek, jaw, throat, chest … before he began massaging her breast. Hermione gasped when he squeezed her nipple.

‘So fitting,’ Voldemort hissed softly, his fingers dipping back into the pool of blood around them and smearing it all over her belly. ‘So lovely.’

He spread her folds and began rubbing her clit with his thumb. The pressure began building and building; her face contorted in a mixture of pain and pleasure and her heartfelt groans filled the air around them. When she bit her lip subconsciously and drew blood, he growled, capturing her mouth with his and plunging inside of her simultaneously. When his cock made contact with the Dark Mark inside her, the world ceased to exist. The orgasm struck her in full force. There was nothing but the overwhelming whiteness of pleasure, filling her vision with only those two red spots in the centre. Her arms flailed over the bloodied floor before she caught a hold around his shoulders; her head tossed from side-to-side, turning her hair into a blood-filled matted mess, and his mouth was filled with her muffled screams of ecstasy as he moved in and out of her in rapid, forceful strokes, keeping her on the crest of that wave.

That night, he made her come over and over again as she slowly but surely stopped caring that she was fully covered in other people’s blood and flesh. It wasn’t until she hoarsely screamed out his name for the tenth time that he unleashed his load inside of her and pulled away, leaving her lying on the floor in a crumpled heap.

Exhausted.

Barely able to stay awake, she still managed to keep eye contact, as he always demanded of her. Blankly, he looked down, whilst he cleaned himself with a wave of his wand. His robes seemed to appear out of smoke as they reformed themselves around his body, settling around him as a second skin. He flowed in and out of her vision as he glided around her, squatting down next to her head.

‘My Lord,’ she whispered.

‘Hush,’ he ordered, stroking her forehead in an almost loving gesture. ‘Sleep now, my little Mudblood. Sleep, dream, and be mine more and more with every step further towards the darkness that you take.’

Her eyelids fluttered. She didn’t want to sleep; she wanted to say something to him. She wanted … to ask … him … to please … spare Ha…

Her head dropped sideways and her muscles turned flaccid as she drifted away into darkness, not noticing the cold kiss that was placed on her forehead.

‘Soon, you’ll kill him for me, Hermione,’ he whispered, satisfied.

He drew away, giving her blood-stained body one final, smirking look before Disapparating.

When she woke the next morning, all she cared about was how cold she was. Shivering, she crawled to her clothes, grabbed her wand and warmed herself. Then, she stoically rose, dressed herself and used a Cleansing Charm on her body and clothes before leaving without taking a second look at the reminders of the massacre that had taken place inside—the many yoga mats were nothing but a travesty of peace in a warzone.

xxx

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The Forbidden Ship