The Secret Fetishes of Bellatrix Lestrange

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Chapter Three

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He looked up at the beautiful woman on top of him, she still had her eyes closed, oblivious to the fact that her prisoner would be free any second now.

"Mmmm . . . Oh, Harry . . . ." Bellatrix was beginning to moan a little louder now, squeezing his waist with her thighs, rocking her hips faster and faster, not noticing the chain holding Harry's left wrist give way.

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Harry couldn't stop thinking about how good she felt. Those curvy hips gyrating on top of him, her warm velvety walls hugging his manhood, enveloping his entire shaft while her juices trickled down, easing the friction between them. He had been aching for release for so long now and his body was just too responsive, he couldn't deny himself to bask in the heavenly sensations. A sharp, pleasant tingle shot through his body when she gave him a particularly hard thrust of her groin, forcing out a deep groan from him that reverberated from deep inside his chest. By now she had worked up a tempo, occasionally murmuring his name in between her moans with a low, husky voice that would drive any man insane.

But unfortunately . . . . no! No, fortunately, he was drawn out of his sweet revelment when her soothing voice was disrupted with another rattle of the chains. He tilted his head, and saw that the chain shackled to his right wrist had come loose. This was his chance. He glanced up at Bellatrix, forcing his eyes to look passed those succulent mounds jiggling in time with her every movement. He could see that she was totally engrossed in her own pleasure, blissfully unaware of the fact that Harry was about to scramble himself free and shove her off the table.

At least that was his plan of action, cleverly devised by the numb part of his brain that had not been impaired by her body, her scent, her skin . . . . . But the rest of his mind had been lured into her world, already fantasizing about all the things he would do to her, already thinking about running his tongue around those red nipples looming over him, inches away from his hungry mouth. God, he wanted to suckle them.

He felt the chains around his ankles unravel themselves from the table legs, dangling uselessly to the sides, drained of any holding spells that were cast by a distracted and highly aroused witch. This is it, he thought. With one last cursory check of the chains, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

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It all happened in a blur. Within seconds Harry had pulled his arms and legs free from the table and had used all his strength to push Bellatrix to the side. She could only yelp in shock when her body was flung towards the edge of the table, but luckily for her, her legs still had a good hold of his hips when she toppled over, and so saved herself from the painful drop onto the cold, stone floor. If only she had time to be relieved about it though. Their bodies wrestled against each other as the chains rattled and clanged against the table in a frenzy, the wood was creaking under the strain of all the weight, and before she knew it, she was staring up at a triumphant looking Harry, her arms pinned above her head.

Now that he had gained control of the situation, Harry's mind instantly cleared up. He could focus now on what he needed to do, and that was to escape. Now. Before he changed his mind. He would get off her, (or more like pull himself out of her) grab her wand to make a portkey and get the hell out of here. Yes. That was what he was going to do. That was his plan of action.

They looked at one another in silence, until, "Didn't expect this to happen did you, Bella?" Harry quickly shut his mouth and cursed himself. Why did he have to sound so playful? He was supposed to be threatening her with her wand, not flirting with her. He failed to notice that he still hadn't moved since they had switched positions, his hips were still pressed firmly against hers, their bodies still joined intimately to one another.

To his surprise, Bellatrix presented him with her trade-mark smirk. "And how would you know?" It was as if Harry had imagined that confused, horror stricken look he saw on her face mere seconds ago. She didn't seem at all concerned, or at least she was trying to, because for a moment he definitely saw her smirk faulter. Harry couldn't come up with a suitable answer to her question, so she continued. "Maybe I wanted them to come loose?" Her voice cracked a little, she didn't seem so confident anymore. But then neither did Harry for that matter. He thought that once the fog in his mind had dispersed, he could ignore or force down the sexual frustration he had been battling for the last . . . . god knows how long. But his resources which fueled his indignation, his will to keep his inhibitions at bay, were slowly running out. His desire had begun to overshadow his hatred the moment she was on top of him, and he was so close to his breaking point that he knew for a fact, that a kiss, a long heated kiss would be enough to unlock the shackles in his mind. He would then proceed to screw her brains out. He had no doubt about that.

With what little will power he had, he began to pull away from her. Bellatrix's eyes widened, and with surprising strength, she wrenched her arms free from his grasp and grabbed his neck, at the same time wrapping her legs around his waist and locking her ankles together. She just looked up at him, her eyes suddenly dark and smoky with lust, gazing up at him from under her heavy eyelids. Her entire demeanour changed in a matter of seconds. She genuinely seemed desparate. "Please, Harry . . Don't go . . . . . . . . I want you . . I need you . . . ." Her beautiful, pleading eyes had a force of their own, and he soon found himself yielding to her soft touch. She gently pulled him down and started kissing his cheek, his jaw, his neck, whispering to him. "I need you, Harry . . . . . God, I want you so much . . . . ." She continued to trail kisses down his neck. Harry closed his eyes and resisted the urge to kiss her back. "Please Harry . . . . ."

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It was barely a whisper, her breath tickled his ear. "I'll let you put it anywhere . . . . ." Those words set his own blood racing. He could see that she was no longer Bellatrix Lestrange, the mistress of Malfoy Manor. She was just another sex-hungry woman who was fiercely attracted to him. They both knew it was mutual. Harry slowly lifted his head and looked down at her, and saw the passion that was only for him. The dam started to crumble . . . . . no, it collapsed. He wanted her back with a sudden surge that triggered an equally powerful realization. He didn't care anymore. He would deal with the consequences later.

Bellatrix saw the change. His urgent lust for her made the woman nearly melt with an incredible need of her own. She was luxuriating in the feel of his hungry eyes devouring her body, when suddenly his lips came crashing down onto hers, their tongues dueling heatedly, his hands feverishly crawling all over her naked flesh. The longer they kissed, the more scorching it became, and hot sexual excitement filled every part of her being, making her tremble and moan with unbearable need. She had never felt this way before.

"Wait, wait!" Bellatrix pushed Harry away slightly and turned her head towards the table in the corner of the cell. Harry frowned in confusion, but then watched on as her wand shot through the air and into her hand, quickly muttering a few spells to free him of his shackles. She was breathless now, her movements frantic, long gone was the calm, seductive mistress that teased Harry to no end. As soon as the chains fell to the ground, she threw her wand away and immediately grabbed Harry around the neck, pulling his mouth down onto hers.

Harry was soon kissing her back with just as much intensity as before, but this time he started moving his hips, he started fucking her with long, hard strokes, delving as deep into her simmering pit as he could go. Bellatrix whimpered and moaned with pleasure, using her legs that were still wrapped around him to push herself up into his body. She gasped when Harry attacked her tingling breasts, grabbing them with both hands, he took one of her nipples in his mouth, curling his tongue around it and biting them gently. She reacted almost instantly. She felt them stiffen as she arched her back and pushed her chest into his face, quivering and moaning deliriously, her fingernails digging into his scalp.

"Oh G-god, Harry . . . . Y-yes . . y-yes . . yes . . . ." Her voice shook with every thrust, he was buring his throbbing manhood hard into her streaming femininity again and again, and it felt like the earth shook everytime their hips met.

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Holy Mother of God. Harry was having trouble staying conscious. He pounded his hips into her relentlessly as he suckled on her hardened nipples, he quickly let go and devoured the other one, making Bellatrix almost cry out in pain as he assaulted her excited buds. But he knew she loved it. She had a fierce hold of his body, and Harry had to come up for air a few times before he went back to suckling and gnawing her throbbing breasts.

His mind was in chaos, he realized that he had no control over his own body anymore. He knew she was feeling just as wild as he was, his body was responding to hers, hers to his, and they were simply at it like two crazed animals, gasping and panting, almost clawing at each others skin with hunger neither of them could keep in check.

And not before long, they could both feel it coming. It was already fast approaching, closer and closer with every thud of their hips. They were so lost in each other that neither of them knew how long it had been. Could have been two minutes, could have been twenty, but they knew the all-consuming burst of ecstasy was about to swallow them whole.

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"Ooouuuh, oh my god . . . . Hu . . Harry . . . . . HARRY!" Suddenly the dark cell was filled with Bellatrix's high pitch scream echoing off the walls. Her shuddering body exploded with killing spasms of a hot, wrenching climax, she nearly pulled him off the table with her as she clung to him, her body flipping and gyrating while the waves of her orgasm spilled over her. She was close to blacking out from the intensity of the feelings that gripped her.

Seconds after she came she heard Harry starting to grunt with every thrust, she opened her eyes and saw him above her, sweat glistening on his forehead, moving back and forth, back and forth, and with one final push, she felt the streams of his manhood pumping into her, his body convulsing under the driving and hammering of his hips. He wasn't as loud, but the deep groans from his chest, his shallow breathing, his feverish whispers of "oh my god . . ." and "holy shit . . ." as he went over the edge was enough to tell her that he was feeling it just as much.

Seconds passed in silence, nothing could be heard except the heavy breathing of the two occupants in the dark cell beneath Malfoy Manor. They both held onto each other, gasping for air like they had just run a mile. It seemed to take forever for the blissfulness to dissipate, not that it was a bad thing, and it left them feeling drowsy as they slumped against each other, exhausted, gently floating back down to the ground. His rigid manhood was still inside her, and as Bellatrix wriggled her soaking femininity up and around, a fresh, startling orgasm shook her again, feeling another ripple of sexual arousal flow through her body. That's how much she enjoyed it.

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They were both completely spent. Thier orgasms finally subsided, and they fell side by side on the table, still catching their breaths from the most unbelievable sex they had ever experienced. They both gazed at the stone ceiling, incapable of any kind of intelligent thought, except for playing the last twenty seconds over and over in thier minds. A full two minutes passed with neither of them saying anything to each other. Their breathing had calmed down considerably by now, but still they didn't speak, or didn't want to speak, or just simply didn't know what the hell to say. For both of them, it was the last one. They didn't know what the hell to say. The obvious thing to say would be, "OK, then. Thanks for the amazing sex, I guess we should both scramble for the wand on the floor now, huh? On three?" But mind-blowing sex had a tendency to form a connection, a certain bond that you couldn't ignore, no matter how you felt about the other person. And they both knew, and felt, that invisible bridge stretch between them.

Harry still hated her, but that emotion was no longer boiling at the surface. Things were more complex now, his want for revenge was still there, but it started to seem like there wasn't much to gain from that. Killing her wouldn't bring Sirius back, and it would make him a murderer just like her. It was pathetic, really, because there were other reasons behind those reasonings. He just didn't want to say it. Damn her. Damn her to hell. All this had just fucked him up in the head. Hating her and wanting her dead was a lot more simpler to handle. And now, now that he had seen a glimpse of the woman beneath that Death Eater mask, now that he knew what it was like being with her, he wasn't sure how to go about hating her. Bloody hell. He closed his eyes and let out a sigh. I am so pathetic.

For Bellatrix, it was a lot more straight forward. She just wanted to have sex with him over and over again. Even more so than ever before. And as for that bond, it was there. She felt a lot more closer to Harry, even though she didn't know a single thing about him.

Would she hand him in to Voldemort? Probably not. Then what would she do about Malfoy and her husband? Find them and obliviate them. Maybe kick her husband in the balls while she was at it. Apparently, Rodulphus had been giving excuses to his friends as to why he wasn't getting any. And those excuses were insulting to her. She could just see them all sniggering over it. Maybe she would kick Lucius in the groin as well, courtesy of his wife.

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While they were both lost in thought, time ticked on. That was until Bellatrix turned her head and finally spoke up, asking in a gentle voice, unheard of from Bellatrix Lestrange.

"Want to do it again?" Harry didn't move an inch, but she saw his eyes flick towards her before he went back to staring at the ceiling, and it was clear to her that he did indeed want have sex with her again. He actually seemed a little shy now, which Bellatrix found quite cute. But then surprisingly, Harry got up and swung his legs over the side, sitting on the edge of the table with his back to her. Damn. She thought. Worst case scenerio would be that he would go for her wand and then maybe hurt her, but she somehow had a feeling that he wouldn't. Bellatrix waited for him to start speaking or move towards the wand on the floor, but he just carried on sitting there looking at the ground, as if contemplating something.

Bellatrix got up as well and slide over towards him, sitting on the edge of the table right next to him. She bent her head down a little and tried to peer up into his eyes, she expected to see anger, directed more to himself for being manipulated so easily. But it was her that begged him in the end, so he couldn't be that mad about it. But when she looked at his face, she actually saw a faint blush grace his cheeks. She put her hand on his thigh.

"What's wrong, Harry?" He turned his head towards her a little, his face showed the reluctance to tell her what was on his mind. "C'mon, Harry. You can tell me . . . ." She started to stroked her hand up and down his thigh. This seemed to be the encouragement he needed as he finally asked the question. Although, it was more directed at the table leg on the otherside of him. "Did you actually mean what you said before?"

Bellatrix didn't know what he was talking about. "What I said . . .?" She looked at him curiously as she played back the last twenty minutes, which was a little hard since it sent her heart racing just thinking about it. And then it hit her. Aaah, what I said before . . . . Bellatrix smiled to herself and then shifted even closer to him, turning her body slightly to press her breast against his arm, showing him how aroused she still was. Bellatrix Lestrange spoke in her silky, seductive voice.

"You ARE a naughty boy, aren't you, Harry?" She saw Harry's cheeks turn an even deeper red as he ducked his head a little. She leaned towards him and gave him a kiss on the cheek, and then spoke very quietly, conspirationally, playing the part as if she understood Harry's embarrassment and didn't want anyone else to overhear.

"You mean when I said . . . . ." and here she moved her face even closer, whispering very softly into his ear. " . . . . . that I'll let you put it anywhere . . . . . . ?" She could practically feel his pulse jump about from their light contact, and she knew she had got it in one. "Of course I did, . . . . ." Harry went very still at this point. His lungs ceased to operate. His heart felt like it was trying to pound its way out of his ribcage.

Slowly lifting his head, he looked up at her, and could see that she was serious. Holy Mother of God.

"Just go slow, OK? It's been a while . . . . ." And she gave him a slow, sexy wink as she reached over to get him hard again.

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to be continued . . .

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I know it's a little extreme, but I know how much you boys like this kind of thing.

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