Title: The Subtle Knife Author: by lee_west and ceria Characters: Rodolphus/Bellatrix Lestrange Rating: NC17 Word Count: 2,900 Summary: Rodolphus needs some help fulfilling Bella's mission. Repost: originally written for daily_deviant on lj.
Irritated with the meeting, Rodolphus yanked his robes over his head and threw them on the floor. He was tired of kowtowing to his wife, who wasn't the princess that their Lord and Malfoy thought she was. Grumbling under his breath, Rodolphus waved his wand, filling his large tub with steaming water.
Their meetings, which had to be conducted in secrecy with different locations each month, had been at Nott's home this time. Merlin, he felt dirty from the place. It was bad enough that they included every former Slytherin who wanted to join them, but halfbloods? Rodolphus' tolerance had limits.
Stripping off his pants and socks and leaving them on the floor for their latest house-elf, he climbed into the tub, gently touching the Mark on his left arm. Sighing with relief as the water scalded him, Rodolphus knew he'd do more than tolerate halfbloods if it kept him close to his Lord.
The only thing he didn't understand was why their Lord treated Bella so well. No matter his anger with the rest of them, he always found a smile for the beautiful Mrs. Lestrange.
***
Being in the presence of her Lord always put Bella in a good mood. She loved the power that exuded from the man, how he could control a crowd of the best bloodlines in Wizarding society with a single look.
She knew that her open admiration for the Dark Lord bothered her husband immensely. But she didn't care: theirs had been an arranged marriage between two descendants of old pureblood families. There was no love involved, and, as far as she was concerned, love didn't have to figure in the equation. They had agreed to the marriage to create more descendants.
Still flustered from the meeting and from the attention she had received from the Dark Lord, Bellatrix stripped naked and pulled a sheer sheath over her body. Sitting in front of the mirror, she brushed her long black hair with her enchanted brush until it shone bright. She dabbed some perfume on her neck and tinted her lips lightly with gloss.
She was beautiful – and desirable. Her Lord had told her so and had ordered her to produce at least one heir and a spare to continue the bloodline; he'd told Bellatrix that he would need the purebloods to multiply so he could have followers for eternity.
The sheer idea that her Lord could become immortal made her shiver. Slipping on a pair of dainty bedroom sandals, she walked to Rodolphus's bedroom to meet him.
That night they'd make an heir. For the glory of their Lord.
***
Usually, the meetings left a smell, almost an aftertaste, of blood on his skin. He took a quick bath that night as he was frustrated they had lacked entertainment in Nott's home. Another reason to detest the mudblood, Rodolphus thought. Tucking a towel around his waist, he exited the bath with his eyes closed, rubbing a hand towel vigorously against his hair to dry it. He finally relaxed enough to try to sleep. Muttering to himself about worthless Slytherins, he dropped the towels to the floor and sat on the edge of his bed.
Only then did he realize he wasn't alone.
Bella ogled Rodolphus lasciviously, letting her eyes roam from his muscular chest down to his flat stomach and stopping meaningfully at his crotch. When her father had announced to her that she was marrying the scion of the Lestranges, Bella pragmatically thought that their babies would have great looks. Rodolphus wasn't her equal in mind, or even in magical strength, but he made up for his shortcomings with that great body.
She let her sheath slide off her shoulder and looked at him invitingly.
He hid his surprise successfully at finding her in his bed. He leant against the headboard, watching her. Rolling onto his side, he touched her stomach. His familial duty to provide children wasn't much of an obligation with his beautiful wife. Burying his earlier thoughts about their Lord and his attention to Bella, Rodolphus spread his tanned hand across her pale stomach, admiring the contrast.
Her skin usually bore the faint aroma of lavender the times he stood near her in public. While he hated the smell, he loved the odor of fear that clung to her after most meetings. If he was lucky, she involved herself with the killings and they'd return home, lavender mixed with the overpowering scent of blood, and he would taste her victory and the Muggle's fear on her skin.
Steeling himself to not react to the lavender scent, Rodolphus leaned closer, sliding his fingers lower, lips following with the gentle kisses she hated. He frowned: traces from a new smell permeated her stomach, as if someone had touched her, that person's hand lingering against her bare skin. Again, he was unable to shake the image of their Lord's smile, his gaze remaining on Bellatrix longer than any other - witch or wizard - present.
Closing his eyes, exorcising any doubt about his wife, Rodolphus ignored the new scent, fingers sliding down, stopping between her thighs.
Bella spread her legs slowly and sensuously, softly scratching the back of his shoulders with her long nails. This would be a great night – she had been turned on by the show of power emanating from Lord Voldemort, by his piercing eyes that stripped her naked, and now she was turned on by the thought of her husband's incipient erection.
Rodolphus would be having sex with her and hopefully creating their child inside her, but she would be making love to her Lord.
Turning toward her, Rodolphus watched her expression, her face barely visibly above her chest. He watched her expression change as his fingers moved slowly between her legs. Hardly touching her, he noticed a rapturous smile that he hadn't seen before grace her face. She acted as though she couldn't see him – or as if she saw another man instead of her husband.
Frowning, he looked away, concentrating on the tender flesh beneath his fingers. His broken fingernails scratched her skin, leaving pale pink lines on the inside of her legs, making him smile.
Tracing the scratches with his tongue, Rodolphus chuckled when she trembled.
Bella purred, feeling nails and tongue touch her, but thinking about the long, aristocratic-looking hands of her Dark Lord, how they would touch her like that. She moaned loudly, arching her back and spreading her legs wider. She could feel her Lord's tongue licking her, making her wetter.
She pulled the sheath up to her waist, baring her body to the man who touched her and her soul to the one she desired.
Rodolphus barely heard the rustle of chiffon and paused. She was writhing on the bed, legs further apart, her long, perfect fingernails pulling the translucent red material higher, baring herself to him. He stopped his ministrations on her scratched skin and watched. His Bellatrix was a beautiful woman, confident, assured of her attractiveness, and deadly.
Sitting up, he leaned over her bent leg, his forearm sliding beneath her knee. Rodolphus pushed one finger harshly inside her, twisting it, feeling her wetness. She hissed loudly and he laughed, pulling his finger out quickly. He waited for her to look at him before slowly raising his hand up, suckling it clean with his mouth.
It was just like the Dark Lord – sensuality with a tinge of cruelty, the harsh finger making her hiss so she would not cry out his name. Bella opened her eyes when the finger withdrew and knew she couldn't hide her disappointment at seeing Rodolphus' handsome face rather than her Lord's almost subhuman one.
She arched her hips again, offering herself to her husband, hoping he hadn't noticed her expression. She had a mission to fulfill this night, and she would see it to completion.
He saw the brief look of disappointment and smiled at her. His wife never wanted to be coddled, which Rodolphus appreciated. Leaning down, he nuzzled his nose between the folds on her skin, bobbing his head up and down with the motion of her hips. Flicking his tongue back and forth harshly, Rodolphus teased her. He listened to her moans, trying to compare them to the last Muggle they had killed, remembering the energy he felt that night. His desire for her when they returned home, with her hands dirty and robes splattered with dark red stains.
She had wanted to clean her robes before they left, but Rodolphus asked her not to, wanting to remember each moment as they had shed their clothes frantically that night. Even now, he could recall the scent on her skin, remember her cruel laughter and Rodolphus felt his cock stir, slowly hardening further.
He let go of Bella's hips and shoved two fingers inside her, twisting them sharply, wanting to hear her scream.
Oh yes, he was good, that lover of hers, teasing her mercilessly with his tongue. Bella could feel the tip of his tongue, flickering like a serpent's. When he brutally inserted his fingers inside her, she couldn't help it; in ecstasy, she cried out, "Yes, my Lo-," catching her tongue quickly, remembering who was with her.
She shivered, hoping that Rodolphus was so turned on that he wouldn't have noticed what she almost said. In order to distract him, she reached for his cock, which should be hard and ready for her now.
But it wasn't. It was not quite flaccid, only a little hard. That was strange. With her long fingers, Bella caressed it, scraping her nails softly over it, hoping to bring it to full hardness. Right now she wanted that cock inside her, bringing new life inside her.
Shivering as fingernails scraped him, Rodolphus moved his face lower, pulling his fingers out again, sticking his tongue in their place. He tried to concentrate on the pain she was causing, and it helped, but not enough. He wasn't responding to her touch the way he should.
Closing his eyes, he tried to remember every detail of the last Muggle they killed.
Frustrated, Bella hissed. That would not do. What was happening to Rodolphus? He'd always responded to her, eagerly, but now his cock was actually softening.
She wrapped her fingers around it and tugged hard. Pain had always been welcome in their relationship and she hoped it'd do the trick now.
But his obstinate cock was now completely flaccid. Angrily, she pushed him off her. "What's wrong, Rodolphus?" she demanded.
Should he answer her truthfully? He wasn't sure how his wife would react to the news that he missed the killings they usually did at the meetings and wanted his foreplay. "You seem distracted, Bellatrix. Did our Lord not make enough time for you tonight?"
She flared her nostrils. He'd touched a raw nerve; notwithstanding how much attention her Lord directed to her, it was never enough for Bella. She wanted it all! It bothered her that her slimy brother-in-law Lucius was always ingratiating himself to the Dark Lord. It killed her that Lucius had beaten her to the goal of giving their Lord an heir – her sister was heavy with child, and Bellatrix, who had never desired children, who abhorred them, was deathly jealous of Narcissa's protruding stomach.
"He gave me as much time as he saw fit," she forced herself to answer. Thinking about her sister made her desire this child even more. "But you haven't answered my question. What's happening to you? Don't you know your duty?"
He didn't miss her anger and replied, "But he gave another more, is that it?" When she narrowed her eyes, he laughed, maneuvering himself to crouch on his hands and knees above her. "You're jealous of their attention, the fact that they might be more important, aren't you? Poor Bellatrix, what if you aren't our Lord's favorite?"
Leaning closer, he bit her collarbone.
She would have loved to strangle him, but she needed him badly. The sooner she got it over with, the better. She cupped his cock and was annoyed to find it still unresponsive. Grabbing his hair with her hands, she said between clenched teeth, "If you manage to get that to work the way it should, then maybe we can have an heir for our Lord soon. And then I'll be even more his favorite."
Unable to help himself, Rodolphus purred at the pain, whispering, "It would work better if we had had some entertainment tonight."
She knew what he meant by entertainment: Rodolphus was at his most potent after killing or at least torturing someone. She enjoyed it, too, but tonight she had no time for that. She had to make him hard, though. "And lacking that entertainment, Rodolphus, what can I do to make up for it?"
She seemed genuine in her interest, which surprised him – enough that he answered without thinking, "Blood."
Bella glanced at the far wall: she knew as well as he did what they kept in a locked box in the back of the wardrobe.
Not mine, she thought, standing up and letting the sheath fall gracefully over her body as she walked sensuously to the wardrobe. Reaching inside, she took out the locked box with their initials on it, a wedding gift from her Aunt Walburga. From it she took a thin, sharp silver knife with the Black crest on the handle and went back slowly to their bed.
Rodolphus was lying on his back, breathing hard, eyes fiery with desire for blood, not for her. That thought infuriated her. How did he dare to want something more than her? Knife in hand, she approached the bed and straddled his legs. Bella touched his chest right below his right nipple with the tip of the knife, and a little bit of blood trickled down.
With a sharp intake of breath, Rodolphus arched into the blade. He hadn't expected that. Too many nights he dreamed of spilling her blood with his hands, cutting her skin as she trembled or cried out beneath him.
He should have known Bella wouldn’t let that happen. Meeting her angry expression, he touched his chest, smearing the blood across his body, then grabbed the front of her sheath, ripping it, leaving bare skin to admire.
He marred her perfect flesh with streaks of dark red, left on her body by his own hand, replacing the diaphanous material with something more attractive to him.
Feeling something touch her legs, she glanced at his cock; it had stirred a bit, but was still far from where she wanted it to be. With a wicked smile, she slid down his legs and, laughing at his horrified expression when he realized what she was about to do, touched the tip of the knife to his groin, to the place where leg met body. Blood oozed slowly from the tiny opening.
Terror and blood were the right combination: Rodolphus' cock started to harden. For good measure, Bella made a gesture as if going to puncture his member, but then, at the last minute, moved quickly to the side and did a twin puncture on the other leg.
His cock finally erect, Bella lifted her body over it and then brought it down hard and fast, impaling herself on her husband.
He'd always been leery of his wife, but never afraid of her. Until now. The fact that he responded to his own fear was new to him. He could feel the blood dripping between his legs as she rocked back and forth, the soft skin of her buttocks rubbing fiercely against his groin.
He should have relaxed and tried to enjoy it, but Bella still clutched the knife in her hand, the dull edge scraping against his chest as she rested her fists on his ribs, balancing herself.
Now, her husband's hard penis firmly inside her, Bella allowed herself to think about her Lord. She was riding him harder and harder, but she kept the knife against his chest, both as a way to keep him hard and as a subtle warning. Bella had no qualms about drawing more blood if he faltered.
She abandoned herself to the thought that tonight would be the night. She was in her fertile period and this was the way to conceive the child she would give to her Lord. She reached an orgasm, moaning loud, and kept her movements, clinching him inside her, coaxing him to his own climax.
Rodolphus could feel the pain from the cuts and her body as it tightened in orgasm. Following her again, he moaned, refusing to call her name, spilling inside her, wondering all the while why she wasn't content this night unless she had sex.
Feeling Rodolphus come inside her, Bella threw her head back in victory. Finally! She knew that she had conceived her Lord's child. She could feel life spilling inside her.
She moved off Rodolphus and without another word, put the knife back in the box and left for her room. She needed to rest now. They went to their separate beds, each hoping for different reasons that this time worked, that they would be able to end the farce soon and move on to other things.
***
Inside her wet tunnel a few fish-like forms swam frantically towards their goal, which was beckoning them, willing to accept only one of them.
Wiggling his tail as strongly as he could, the one in the lead tried, but knew he'd never reach his destiny. It had been tried before, and the result had always been failure: the gift of procreation was not for him or his brothers.