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The Dark Lord\'s Lover	By : xxgammaorionisxx Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female Views: 3167 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from it. No money is being made.

Chapter List
- 1-The Dark Lord's Lover
- 1
A/N: I’ve noticed a horrible lack of Bellatrix/Voldemort on this site. How sad. I shall have to remedy that.

I suppose this story may be a touch heavy on plot… but oh well.

*Cross-posted from fanfiction.net*

Chapter 1

The Death Eaters – including Bellatrix’s husband – filed out of the meeting room, and Bellatrix waited.

“Kind of you to join me,” Rodolphus said, offering his wife his arm, but she shook her head.

“I need to speak to the Dark Lord.”

He frowned a little. “But–”

“Mistress Lestrange,” said the Dark Lord, following the last of his Death Eaters out of the meeting room. “Good evening. How… pleasant to see you again. It is so endearing to see you meeting your husband after our little gatherings.”

Bellatrix curtsied. “Good evening, Sir. But I am not here for my husband. I would like to speak with you. May I ask for an audience?”

“Certainly,” he said, raising his eyebrows slightly. “Would you care to take a walk with me? The gardens are lovely.”

Bellatrix flushed. “I would be honoured.”

“Rodolphus, you may sit down. Your wife and I will return in time.”

“Certainly, my Lord,” said Rodolphus. He took a seat in a straight-backed chair, and watched as the Dark Lord led Bellatrix out into the gardens.

The sun had just set, and the air was still warm. A half-moon hung in the velvety blue sky, and the shadows it cast made the gardens look otherworldly and eerie.

“Your husband is a fine Death Eater,” said the Dark Lord, strolling along the path. Bellatrix followed.

“I am glad you think so, Sir,” Bellatrix said. She wasn’t sure just how to ask for what she wanted. This would be the time to bring it up, but she couldn’t think just how.

They walked in silence for some minutes, then the Dark Lord abruptly stopped, next to a garden bench, and a red rosebush. He turned to her.

“Bellatrix – may I call you Bellatrix?”

“Of course you may, Sir. I would be honoured.”

“Then, what is it that has been on your mind, Bellatrix?”

Bellatrix couldn’t meet his eyes. She did admire the aesthetic, though. The Dark Lord standing before her, framed by the roses, with the bench at his side. She wouldn’t lie to herself; she thought him quite attractive.

“You wanted to talk to me. Now talk. Tell me what has been bothering you.”

Bellatrix sat down on the garden bench, and folded her hands in her lap, twisting them together as hard as she could.

“I would like to join the Death Eaters,” she said at last.

There was a pause, and then the Dark Lord laughed, mirthlessly.

“You would like to join the Death Eaters? A woman? You would be killed within days!”

“I wouldn’t, I know I could help you!” She stood back up, so that she could look him in the eye. “I would be faithful to you forever! I would–”

“A woman’s place is not on the battlefield,” he said. “Women should stay where they belong, and that is in the house, in pretty gardens, and in the bedroom.”

“But–”

“You do realize, don’t you, Bellatrix, just how skilled at magic you would have to be to last among the Death Eaters?”

“I can handle a wand,” Bellatrix snapped.

“I’m sure that you can.”

Bellatrix winced at the double meaning he injected into her words.

“Well, we shall see.” His blood-tinted eyes glittered cruelly. “Perhaps you do have some potential. Do something to prove your loyalty, and I may reconsider.”

“Anything! I’ll do anything!”

“Will you.” He considered her and she flushed. Looking for a distraction, she plucked a rose from the bush and twirled it. A thorn stabbed her finger.

“Oh, damn.” Bellatrix dropped the rose on the bench and examined her fingertip.

“Let me,” said the Dark Lord. He took her hand and looked at the drop of blood pooling on it. Bellatrix’s breath quickened. This was far more intimate than she was comfortable with.

A crimson bead rolled off the mark and slid slowly down Bellatrix’s finger.

“It isn’t serious,” he said, catching the blood with his own fingertip. “Just a… prick.”

Bellatrix ran her tongue slowly around her lips. There was nothing about this that should be erotic. Narcissa had held her hand like this a thousand times. This should not be any different–

The Dark Lord raised her hand, and flicked his tongue over the cut. Bellatrix’s breath caught.

“Sir?”

“I trust you don’t object, Bellatrix.”

“I… I am married…”

“Forgive me for not being familiar with marriage contracts,” the Dark Lord said, smirking a little, “but I was not aware that they included a clause that prohibited women from having their injuries treated by men who are not their husbands.”

“They… they don’t, but…”

“Then I see no reason why Rodolphus has anything to do with this.” He raised her hand again, and put her finger in his mouth.

“I wouldn’t call this an orthodox method of treating injury,” Bellatrix managed.

“The bleeding has stopped, hasn’t it?”

He drew her finger out of his mouth and dropped her hand. She looked at her hand. It was true, the blood wasn’t dripping out anymore.

“That’s true, Sir. It isn’t that–”

“Were you thinking of something else?” he asked, smirking at her. Bellatrix looked away. She had been caught. A married woman should not have thoughts like this about other men.

“I may have been…” She glanced up at him through her lashes, judging his reaction.

“You, Bellatrix,” he smirked, “are a very bold woman.”

“It’s because I am bold that I would make a good Death Eater,” she reminded him.

“Quite so, Bellatrix.”

He considered her, then put a hand on her shoulder and pushed her into a kneeling position, seating himself on the edge of the bench.

“What–”

He silenced her with a sharp look, then picked up the rose she had dropped. He took another from the bush, and then a third, and twisted them into a wreath and set it delicately in her hair.

“Not bad at all,” he said, admiring the effect. “You could be quite pretty, you know, Bellatrix.”

“I like to think I am quite pretty,” she said, knowing she was treading on thin ice.

“My, you are bold,” he mocked. “And you claim you would be so devoted. Why don’t you show me just what you would do for my cause?” He put his hand on her head, pressing on her thorny crown. The barbs drove into her scalp, and she gasped.

“I would do anything–”

“So you’ve said. I am merely going to put you to the test.”

Slowly – oh, so much more slowly than she would have liked – he moved to unfasten his robes.

Bellatrix’s heart skipped a beat. Was he really going to…

“If you please me,” he said, “then I will have you marked. You will become a Death Eater.”

He finished undoing his robes, revealing his erection, and Bellatrix gasped softly. Had she really done that to him? The Dark Lord, and she had aroused him?

“Now, Bellatrix.”

This was wrong. She couldn’t. To pleasure anyone, even the Dark Lord, to get what she wanted would make her no better than a whore.

“We don’t have all night, Bellatrix. Your husband will be waiting for you.”

But she so wanted to be a Death Eater. And it would have been a lie to say that this didn’t arouse her.

Bellatrix leaned forward, slowly and carefully, and gently blew on his cock before she wrapped her lips around it. She rubbed her tongue gently against the head, and then slid along his shaft, taking him as far in as she could without gagging, and wrapping her hand around what she couldn’t reach with her mouth.

She gave a tentative suck, and was rewarded, hearing the Dark Lord exhale sharply.

“Again,” he said. Bellatrix moved her mouth down a little, then drew her head back slowly, dragging her tongue along the underside. His cock throbbed in response, and he sighed.

“Not bad,” he muttered, winding his hand in her hair and pressing the roses between his palm and her head. “Suck harder. Make me come, Bellatrix.”

She moaned around his cock, and felt him twitch in response.

Bellatrix’s heart was hammering against her rib cage. All she wanted was to please him. It filled her with desire to hear the Dark Lord like this, hear his heavy breaths and quiet groans. He was throbbing, and at his instruction she sucked deeply, pushing her mouth up and down the shaft, massaged the base with one hand, and stroked his balls with the other.

The Dark Lord moaned loudly one more time, and his whole body jerked. He wrenched at the roses in her hair, the thorns scoring across her scalp. Hot liquid spilled across Bellatrix’s tongue, and she drank it down eagerly, sucking and gulping his seed.

“Yes… yes…” he groaned, shuddering with his release. Bellatrix swirled her tongue around the head one last time, then pulled back, tilted her head, and rested her chin on his knee.

“How was that?” she purred.

The Dark Lord was silent for a moment, then said, “You may call me “Master”, or “My Lord”. You will be marked on the next full moon. And you will not bed your husband anymore. I expect you in my chambers tomorrow night. If you continue to please me, you will be rewarded.”

Bellatrix stood up slowly, carefully extricating the roses from her hair. They were tangled with her black curls, and blood was congealing on the thorns where they had cut her. When she had all three roses out, she buried her nose in the petals, gazing at the Dark Lord – her Master, now – through lowered lashes. She was desperately aroused, her body pulsating with need for this man, but she just backed away, smiling seductively over the roses. She could slake her own lust later – she wasn’t about to show the Dark Lord just how much desire she had for him.

She had gone into the garden with the intention of becoming a Death Eater. And she was coming out, not only a Death Eater, but as the Dark Lord’s lover.

It was far better than what she had bargained for.
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The Dark Lord\'s Lover