Chapter Three:

Very uncharacteristically, he walked over to her and enfolded her into a hug. She jumped from surprise, but made no effort to move or return the hug. She sat still, almost frozen, the tears still running down her face. After a few moments of strange silence, he released her but remained seated beside her.

"What happened to you, Tom?" she asked again, though it was clear from her shock that she hadn't expected an answer.

"Nothing, you just didn't see who I was."

Bellatrix remained silent for a few moments before replying, "I saw everything you wanted me to see. You wouldn't let me know how far you wanted to go with immortality or the Dark Arts. You taught me what you wanted me to know," she took a breath, then whispered as quietly as she could, "You used to trust me."

"I still do," he said just as quietly.

Knowing she was entering dangerous waters, Bellatrix spoke with a tremble, "Then why do you meet people without me. You used to have me by your side with everything, now you don't trust me with anything."

"I do," he said, though there was slight anger in his voice, "I will always trust you, Bella. I might be angry with you, I might punish you, but never think that I do not trust you."

Bellatrix nodded, and a few tears leaked out of the corner of her eyes. Hastily, she wiped them away, and was overjoyed that he had re-instated the use of her name. She didn't think that he would ever understand what it did to her when he called her 'Bella'.

"Come," he said, as he held her hand, "We shall dine in my quarters this evening."

As they ate their meal, there was comfortable conversation, which most would have believed the Dark Lord and his most loyal Death Eater were incapable of. They spoke of the past and the future, the most common ideals, and the plans that were in the making. For the two blood racists, it was a wonderful meal.

When they finished the meal, Bellatrix did something that surprised both herself and the Dark Lord. She kissed him. Instantly, she regretted the action and dropped to her knees and began to beg, "I'm sorry, my Lord. Please, my Lord. I beg for forgiveness, Master. Please have mercy, my Lord."

"Bella, there is no reason to beg for forgiveness," he said, as he helped her stand. She looked at him confused, but he could sense that she was still on the verge of begging for forgiveness once more.

More because he wanted to, then to reassure her, Voldemort leaned forward and kissed her fiercely. When she did not respond, he bit on her lip, and she spurred into action, returning the kiss passionately. Their tongues duelled for dominance, as their teeth drew blood and bruised each others' lips.

When Voldemort tugged on her robe, she made no move to stop him. Although, she knew that this was purely for desire rather than love, she was willing to make this memory with him, as it would be the only one she could have. They tore violently at each other's clothing, and as their bodies touched, Bellatrix moaned gently. The sensation was almost more than she could take.

She had always expected that he would be a violent lover, maybe even selfish, but she would never have expected that he would be gentle and giving. As he lowered her onto the bed, his body hovered over hers. He lavished kisses on her neck and chest, rolling his tongue gently over her erect nipple. As she moaned loudly, he bit down and she groaned. He licked his way down her torso, swirling his tongue in her navel, and as her moans began to come at a feverish rate, she twisted their bodies, so she was straddling him.

She gently traced her fingers of his features, taking in the way his red eyes seemed to burn with desire and lust. As she leant forward, her breast brushed his pale chest, and he moaned lustfully. She began to place kisses on his chest and stomach, moving her arms and caressing every part of his torso and face.

As she reached his erect manhood, she circled her tongue around the tip. He groaned at the sensation, and bucked into her mouth. She took him into her mouth, and although he had experienced this many times before, this time it was far better than any other occasion. This time it was someone who loved him with her whole heart, someone who would do anything for him, and someone who had sacrificed everything for him.

As she bobbed up and down, Voldemort bucked into her mouth. Without warning, he ordered her to stop, and rolled their bodies over once more. His fingers brushed over her wet nether regions, and she bucked into his hand. As he fingered her sensitive bud, she moaned his name lustfully and curved her back. He slipped a finger into her, and she bucked and groaned. When he began to pick up the pace, she arched upward into him. She whimpered as he nudged her bundle of nerves, and came apart, screaming his name.

As she came down from her high, he pushed himself inside her and groaned at the feeling of being encased by her. He withdrew and re-entered her slowly, basking in the sound of her groans. As they repeated the thrusts slowly, both began to moan and Bellatrix found herself raising her hips to meet him thrust for thrust. The speed began to build, as did the intensity, and the Dark Lord raised Bellatrix's legs over his shoulders, and buried himself to the hilt.

Their hips bucked violently against each other, and once more Bellatrix screamed her Master's name, as she convulsed around him. He bit harshly into her shoulder and he spilled inside her. He collapsed on her, and she wrapped her arms around him.

"I love you," she whispered.

He nodded, "I know."