Author's Notes: Happy Valentine's Day, everyone! Have some Bellamort to celebrate.

)O(

There was little that Bellatrix adored more than the state her Master was in after a murder.

She could understand what it did to him – oh, she could understand it. She knew what it felt like to take a life – it was the ultimate expression of power, and therefore the ultimate pleasure as well.

He came to her chambers in the evenings afterwards, wild with the passion that murder incited in him, and she was there for him to take out his desires upon.

February fourteenth was one such evening. The Dark Lord flung the door open without knocking, interrupting Rodolphus, who had Bellatrix in his arms, laying kisses on her mouth and neck and breasts that he surely thought to be romantic, though they bored Bellatrix.

"Out, Rodolphus," the Dark Lord ordered.

Rodolphus jolted away from Bellatrix, colour flooding his cheeks.

"My Lord- but–"

"Out. I require your wife."

Bellatrix flushed with pride, sitting up. "Get out, Rodolphus."

"It- but we were…" Rodolphus looked between the two of them, clearly desperate for some sort of mercy – for them to decide that they didn't really want him to go, perhaps.

As if.

Bellatrix pushed Rodolphus off herself and stood, straightening her dress and facing the Dark Lord. "I am at your service, Master… for whatever it is you wish from me," she added, in a soft, seductive murmur that Rodolphus could not have mistaken the intent of.

Rodolphus stood too, and he gave Bellatrix and the Dark Lord a vicious glare before turning away and storming out.

The Dark Lord was on Bellatrix in a moment, pulling her hair back and kissing her fiercely, violently. Bellatrix gripped his robes, her body arching against his and sighs of delight escaping her lips.

"I do hope I didn't interrupt anything important between you and Rodolphus," he said quietly, and Bellatrix shook her head.

"Nothing, my Lord – nothing I would not have wanted to be interrupted."

There was nothing loving or tender about what he did to her. It was nothing more than a release of tension. He forced her back against the wall, his body heaving against hers, and he dragged at her skirts and gripped her thighs and took her so roughly that it nearly hurt, and the thought that he would choose her to take his lust out on was more pleasurable to Bellatrix than sex could ever be.

)O(

Fin