Special Delivery For: r0sivan Title: All Her Autumns Author/Artist:malefics Recipient's LJ name:r0sivan Rating: NC-17 Pairing(s): Bellatrix/Rodolphus Word Count: 1251 Warnings (if any): explicit sex Summary: "They didn't meet in autumn, but they met in autumn: the rush of skin on skin, wet skirts tangled on the ground, hair full of russet leaves, dew on the nape of her neck, autumn sky scudding clouds on pewter horizon, and his velvet gloves,- warm,- over hands that always felt cold."
All her autumns were with him, in her mind. His the fiery transformation of the leaves; his the silver sky. His the soothing chill that calms the blazing magnificence of summer and lets it rest, brings it to fulfilment again and again like a rose blown so full all that's left is to shed its petals and sleep again.
They didn't meet in autumn, but they met in autumn: the rush of skin on skin, wet skirts tangled on the ground, hair full of russet leaves, dew on the nape of her neck, autumn sky scudding clouds on pewter horizon, and his velvet gloves,- warm,- over hands that always felt cold.
It was morning. It was one of those mornings of black birds they had in the wooded ravine near his father's house. Further on the flat trickle of the creek splashed over smooth stones. The house uphill was a bustle of preparation for the masquerade, and full of noises and clamor and servants and early guests.
There were still pins in Bella's dark purple gown at the back where it had been pulled in over the corset that rode her hips and pushed her breasts upward in soft white curves. Rodolphus had caught her in the salon, still standing up on a cushioned ottoman, waiting for the seamstress to finish with her mother. The trim line of the tail-coat and high leather boots showed his physique to prime advantage. His wavy hair was tied back from the chiseled planes of his handsome face. He held a black demon mask to his eyes and a finger to his lips, then grasped her wrist. Laughing, they raced through the house and out over the yard, down to where the trees were whispering and the air was wet with night rain.
He looked edible in green, she had always thought. He was fair-skinned, and his hair was a strange scarlet auburn. She wanted to make him hers so utterly that her throat constricted and she could not speak. They stood there, fingers curled upon fingers, arms extended between them. His thumb brushed over the back of her wrist. An electric current rose through her body, raising gooseflesh on her skin. An impossible urgency enveloped her.
She stepped in close to him, all hunger, and closed her lips over his. His skin was cold but his mouth was very soft and he moaned softly and closed his fingers in her hair, burying his hands in thick dark waves and pulling her into a deeper kiss. She unleashed her passion against him, volatile and demanding. She tasted his tongue with her own, danced in his mouth, sucked and raked his lips. In turn, Rodolphus gave her a strength that made her shiver and the raw tender roughness of a perfect love. He captured her mouth, teased her conquering tongue with his own, and then he pressed gentle feather-light kisses to her jaw and her neck, each eclipsing the last in sensory pleasure and erotic promise as his mouth lowered over the swell of her breasts.
Her body arched against him. She curled her arm around his shoulders, fingers raking the ribbon from his hair and combing it out behind him, back from his face. She fell back against the nearest tree, hair caught in moss and bark, and eased them down. Her knees were parted around him: she was on fire, needing him. She was hot and throbbing and nothing but the pressure of his thigh against her seemed to offer any consolation, any way of keeping her sane.
"Roddy!" she gasped.
"Bella," he said. He looked down at her with the strangest look in his eyes. They were intent and piercing, almost electric, as if he were looking upon the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. "Bella, marry me."
Her skin was so hot. There was dew on her neck from the wet grass, and dirty water seeping in her skirts. A pin pricked her ribs as she shifted position and pulled him even nearer to her, so that she could feel his warm breath against her parted lips. Scudding clouds on the thick pewter sky. His brilliant hair. Green.
She laughed, and the low dark sound echoed its pure happiness through the trees. She brushed her mouth against his mouth and whispered, "Roddy, take me now. Do it for me now. I will go crazy."
And he laughed, and fell against her, and buried his face in her hair. "Bella, I love you." And then they were kissing again.
His warm black-gloved hands slid under her dress, curving around her ankle as if it were as slender and dainty as she had always wished it was. The caress trailed up along her calf, pushing her skirt higher. Her heart hammered as his fingers slipped along her thigh, light and sweet and fleeting. His hand hooked under the lace top of her knickers, teasing her navel and making her gasp. He pulled it down so slowly. The air was cold but the cold was not unpleasant.
She kicked one leg free and curled it over him, losing her flat-heeled leather shoe against a root. She pressed her heel in the small of his back and slipped her hands from his shoulders and his hair. His belt was an unwelcome impediment.
As she pulled it loose, she lifted her mouth again and kissed the side of his neck. His skin tasted fresh and primal. Bellatrix sucked at the smoothness of it, pressed her tongue against the sweet salt. She wanted to mark him forever as hers, for everyone to know what she felt for him and what he had given her and how it would never, ever be anyone's but hers.
Rodolphus' deep, low moan faded into a slow purr. He tangled against her, tumbled against her. One palm flattened against the hard wall of the corset revealed by fast unhooking of the bodice. He pulled downward, and Bella's breasts, already precariously shelved, came free. His thumb rolled over nipples so hard and erect that the pleasure his touch brought walked the border-line of pain and made her gasp. She arched against him once more and rubbed her heat against the hardness she had only recently freed.
He rolled on his shoulder and back, his hair catching leaves, and slipped inside her. In the first tense moment she felt him burn inside her, but the discomfort eased instantly as they rolled back together and he began to move inside her. He was strong and smooth and fierce, and she wanted him as deep as he could go. They moved like one vibrant existence, lost in the overflow of passion and of pleasure. Rodolphus thrust in Bellatrix and Bellatrix rocked against Rodolphus like a wave.
It built inside them, audible in their breath: short, fast, hot, syncopated and coloured with small sweet noises. It built in their cheeks (flushed) and their skin (hot) and in the glassy ecstatic shine of their eyes that made them into living jewels. It built and swelled and broke in an explosive wave like nothing she had ever felt. Her body danced between the ground and Rodolphus' body, shaking through the violence of her passion as he brought her once, and then again, and again.
When he came she felt it inside her, calming the blazing magnificence of her lust, soothing her and leaving her fulfilled, completed.
"I'll be marrying you," she said, twining her fingers in his hair, "tomorrow."