Fanfiction || These Stolen Moments || Bellatrix/Narcissa
Title: These Stolen Moments
Author: Sapphire Smoke cuzimastripper
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Bellatrix/Narcissa
Rating: NC-17
Length: 3,550 words
Summary: Narcissa's older sister has always captivated her... and always controlled her.
Warning: PWP femslash incest; Blackcest... all those little things that make you feel dirty for liking but you just can't help it ;)
These stolen moments they share are more the desire of the wicked’s passion to conquer, rather than of love. No, Narcissa was not foolish enough to believe that her sister could truly love another. But as Bellatrix whispers in her ear fleeting promises that are only truly just words and nothing more, Narcissa finds herself closing her eyes and believing all the lies. It never really matters anyway, does it? What’s truth and what isn’t? The line is so transparent it’s hard to say if it was ever really there in to begin with.
She cackles and taunts sometimes, her older sister. Cackles in her ear as she takes what’s hers and rips out a piece of her soul everytime she does it. But there’s no stopping it, there never is. She was Bellatrix’s… from the day she was born she always did what her eldest sister told her to do. And when Bellatrix tells her to become hers, even for a passing moment, she does so without question. She wants to be hers, more than anything in this world, but is only so because of her sister’s shallow means.
Bellatrix has always been everything to Narcissa. The only one ever really there throughout it all. The only one who knows her deepest secrets, protects her heart whilst she destroys it slowly. She wishes she could tell her no, but everytime Bella touches her, the heat that flows through her veins ignites her own passion and she finds herself being needed to be taken.
“Did you miss me?” she whispers in that maddening tone she always seems to have now. Narcissa remembers when she didn’t have that, when she was strong and focused, but without the psychosis. She blames Him for the madness, but will never speak of her theory out loud.
Bellatrix’s head rolls slightly as she brushes her lips against her sister’s neck, her hands running through her hair. She’s looking at her with wide eyes that would only portray innocence if not for the evil lurking behind them. She smiles before she brushes her lips up against the base of her neck again, lingering there for a moment as if taking in her scent.
“Always,” Narcissa breathes out, half in desire and half in fear. She knew she would always be safe with her sister by her side, because God himself would fear her wrath if something was to happen to her prized trophy… but that never settled the unnerving feeling that it does only take just a small moment to set her off.
Bellatrix was almost like a child still. So curious, so intent on playing her own twisted little games. Always giddy, even if for the wrong reasons. Always happy when she wins, especially when it ends in her opponent’s untimely demise. But like a child, she would throw fits when she didn’t get her way… only hers were far, far more dangerous than any toddler.
“Mmm…” Bellatrix purrs, her slender fingers with her long jagged fingernails sliding down Narcissa’s throat, coming to rest at her jugular. Her eyes flash, like she wants to close her grip around her neck, but then the moment is gone and that smile comes back as she hums a little tune as the fingers slide slowly down, starting to disrobe her youngest sibling. “When will he be back?” she asks her in a low voice, looking at Narcissa like she needs to devour her quickly.
Narcissa finds her voice breaking slightly as she stands there nude in front of her, unwilling to move. Possibly even scared to move. “Not till dawn,” she whispers, speaking of Lucius. Bellatrix touches her then, just a slight movement of her fingertips against her breast and she trembles a bit. Anticipation and fear are entirely too similar to Narcissa now a days.
“Perfect,” she says in a low voice, her nail tracing her sister’s nipple as she watches it, her eyes following her finger as if entranced. Narcissa doesn’t move, she doesn’t even speak. Her breath catches in her throat and her eyes flutter shut, but knows she needs to wait. Bellatrix tells her when, how… this is her game. Her sister is just a pawn in it.
The fourteen years they were apart makes Bellatrix need her sister at every chance they can get away with. When once it was a couple times a year, back when they were both small, or when they both first got tied down by wedlock, now they found themselves tangled up in each other as much as a couple times a week. Fourteen years is a lot of time to make up for, and there was no time to start like the present.
Narcissa was still unmoving; her eyes closed as Bellatrix took a step closer to her and ran her fingertips lightly down her body. Over ever dip, over every curve… just watching Narcissa stand there for her, like a magnificent piece of art on display, but yet at the same time just a mere toy for her own satisfaction. Narcissa shivered as her hands taunted just above her hairline, and the anticipation was slowly rising through her body.
But she knows how this goes, the same way it always does. So Bellatrix steps back and looks at her, identical dark eyes boring into each other, and Narcissa knows what she’s expected to do. Slowly she disrobes her sister as Bellatrix just stands there, and after each piece of flesh begins to get exposed she kisses it lightly. Her neck, down to her shoulder, her chest, her hands, her stomach. Bellatrix is unmoving, just watches her do what she needs her to do. Her little trophy prize; her escape from the madness.
Their pale flesh connects after Narcissa has finished, but Bellatrix steps back from her. She doesn’t want the closeness today. Narcissa tries to pretend that doesn’t hurt, but it seems like more often than not recently there isn’t a place for her next to her older sister. When once they used to tangle themselves up in the sheets, bodies pressed together like they’re bound by a spell, now Bellatrix is so distant, detached.
“Once here,” Bellatrix tells her softly, bringing her long slender finger to her lips. Then she drags it down her body slowly, to rest between her legs, “Then here… until I’m finished.”
Narcissa has her instructions, and she brings her lips to her sister’s, and softly kisses her. This is why she wishes she could tell her no, because it hurts too much to do it this way. To kiss her only once when that, more than any of their other acts together, is the thing that makes her feel close to her. The thing that makes her feel like she is more to Bellatrix than just another game. But just as their tongues make contact, Bellatrix breaks it and guides her slowly to the floor with one hand on her shoulder. Narcissa goes with no reluctance, because to disobey her wishes might mean the end of this closeness, no matter how far away they still were from each other.
Bellatrix has always loved power, becoming seduced by it before gaining control over it, and that is why she adores it when her sister is on her knees in front of her, obeying her commands. It’s like she’s her Mistress, and nothing else comes before serving her. If only she knew how much Narcissa wished her sister would do the same, if only for a moment. If she could sacrifice her power, just once, just for her.
Narcissa kneels in front of her, succumbing to her needs, as her delicate hands slide up her thighs. She wishes she could tell her how beautiful she was, how amazing she looked, but those were things that could never be voice out loud. It would make Bellatrix start to feel again, and she had made it very clear she never wished to do so anymore. So Narcissa kisses her gently, just once on her clitoris, before pausing for a minute to take in the scent of her forbidden lover.
“Cissy,” Bellatrix gasps out, half in anticipation, the other half demanding, or maybe even in a bit of a warning. She wants her to go on with it, to not doddle down there. Narcissa wishes that for just once she could take her time, like how it used to be, because it’s been so long that she’s ever really been able to appreciate the magnificent creature that her eldest sibling was.
But Narcissa relents, not one to mess with Bella’s temper. Finally going in for more than just a mere taste, she moans softly against her sister’s sensitive flesh. Bellatrix gasps, the hand that was on her shoulder coming to tangle in her long blonde hair. A shudder, another gasp as her legs spread wider, giving Narcissa more room to do as she’s told. Narcissa’s fingers are gripping her thighs, maybe just a bit too roughly, to hold her in place. But Bellatrix enjoys a bit of pain, a bit more pressure during these moments… it overshadows the love for her.
She tastes like honey to Narcissa, like a treat only given to those deemed worthy, which is probably why she has such a hold on her. Warping her mind, making her believe the implication that she is her better, and that Narcissa should be lucky to even have these few moments with her. And as Bellatrix’s grips tightens, pulling her head closer to her by her hair, and her panting getting louder, Narcissa knows she’s drawing nearer to the edge.
“More,” Bellatrix orders between light gasps, her grip near painful on her sister’s scalp. With a few skilled flicks of her tongue in an area known more to Narcissa than Bellatrix’s own husband, she shudders, releasing a scream as her knees buckle. Narcissa’s grip on her tightens, holding her up as she lets her ride out her wave of ecstasy, devouring every offering she allows her lighter counterpart to have.
And then with a quick push of her sister’s hand, Narcissa falls to the ground. The cool stone connects with the heat of her flesh and she knows not to move from where she was placed. She looks up at Bellatrix, who’s flushed and still dazed, and just waits.
Bellatrix stands above her, her eyes wandering every inch of Narcissa’s body like a wolf hungry for it’s next meal. She waves her hands at her, just lightly, but Narcissa knows the unspoken command. She spreads her legs for her, as wide as she can possibly allow her aging body to do, knowing her sister loves taking a few moments to view her prize. It’s almost degrading, to be put on display so openly for her, if not for how it made Narcissa feel for Bellatrix to look at her in that way. Like maybe for once she was something that was grand.
Bellatrix falls to her knees then, and then slowly, like an agile cat, crawls up her body. Narcissa finds herself wanting to strain forwards for their bodies to connect, but knows that’s not what her sister wishes. So she lies there, ever so still, waiting for her turn. Waiting for Bellatrix to decide what she wants, or even like sometimes, decide she wants nothing at all.
“You love that, don’t you, my dear Cissy?” Bellatrix whispers, still not touching her. But a smirk adorns her face ever so slightly before she brings her lips to hover above her neck, and then her shoulder, teasing her with her light breath against it. Narcissa’s eyes flutter softly shut for a moment as she imagines how they feel when they do grace her skin.
“Yes,” she whispered breathlessly, and then she feels her sister’s lips on her flesh, only just barely, dragging from her chest to her throat. She wants to move, she wants to touch her, but she’s afraid to.
“And you want me to touch you now,” Bellatrix half purrs, half taunts before her lips connect with her throat, kissing her softly. Narcissa’s heart is speeding up, her breathing becoming shallower, and she’s sure she’s laying in a puddle of her own desire.
“Yes,” Narcissa breathes out, hoping that this isn’t going to turn into another of Bellatrix’s games. Then she finds herself holding her breath, waiting for her sister to speak, needing to know how this night is going to play out, if it even will at all.
“Mmm…” Bellatrix purrs again, and out of nowhere slides a finger through Narcissa’s folds, making her open her eyes in surprise and gasp before emitting a moan. “I can tell,” Bellatrix finishes, with a hint of amusement in her voice as she holds up her soaked finger, as if taunting her with it. Narcissa just looks at her, her chest heaving, unable to speak due to not knowing what to say.
Then dark hair mixes with her light as Bellatrix’s head falls to her shoulder. She brushes her lips against Narcissa’s neck and with a low tone that indicated amusement and power told her, “Then beg me.”
“Please,” Narcissa gasps out immediately, finding herself squirming beneath her, just wanting to feel something, anything. The friction of her thighs isn’t enough to satisfy, and ends up leaving her wanting more. She whimpers softly.
“Gotta do better than that, lover,” Bellatrix purrs softly, taunting her. The games have begun.
Narcissa hates when she makes her do this, makes her degrade herself even further for her just for the gratification of her sister. But no matter how awful it can be, how tasteless and how crude Bellatrix can make it, she knows it’s just one little price to pay for the feeling of being with her. “Please Bella,” she gasps, looking at her like she hoped this was the only thing she would have to do to earn her pleasure. “Please, I’ll do anything. Anything,” she stresses, being entirely serious. She would do anything for her anyway. She already does.
“I love when you say that word,” Bellatrix hisses in her ear before she’s off of her quickly. Narcissa groans from the lack of contact, and looks at her sister, who’s now just a foot from the center of her legs. But she wasn’t crouched down, no. Not ready to do something that Narcissa can merely hope to dream about because… Bellatrix never kissed her down there anymore. But she’s sitting on her heels, looking at the desire dripping down her sister’s thighs, and Narcissa doesn’t know what her angle is this time.
Instead of speaking, Bellatrix reaches for Narcissa’s hand, and she has the flicker of hope that maybe she didn’t want to play anymore, that maybe for once she wanted to feel more than just her sister’s skin… but then she guides her hand between her own legs. Narcissa looks up at her, shocked and embarrassed, and moves to take her hand away, but Bellatrix stills it.
“You said anything,” Bellatrix reminds her softly with a wicked smile. Narcissa flushes and looks away from her. Last week it was making her say words that should never fall from her lips. No, not someone as sophisticated and high class as her. But she did it, she called parts of her body the most vile words for her, just so she could get a taste. But for her to want her to do… the thought was almost too much for her to handle, let alone carrying it out. Ladies do not touch themselves; they wait for men to do it.
But yet, Bellatrix was no man. She was her own flesh and blood, a mortal sin to lie with in her own right, and Bellatrix tortures her with each passing week, indulging in more and more of the things that someone of her standards should never have to do. But Bellatrix is kneeling over her, looking at her curiously, wondering if for once she has pushed her too far. Part of Narcissa thinks that she wants to, that she wants her to tell her no… but she can’t. She never can, and so as Bellatrix lets go of her hand, she slides it over herself, into her own wet heat.
“Yes Cissy… good girl…” Bellatrix purrs, and Narcissa can’t look at her as she does this. Her face is hot, so much she feels her embarrassment spread through her entire body, and she’s sure her milky white flesh is now darker with it’s rosy hint. She can hear Bellatrix’ breathing start to pick up, her own desire flowing from her pores from watching Narcissa shamefully play with herself on display for her lustful eyes.
Narcissa can’t see her, but she can feel her eyes all over her. She closes her own, but it doesn’t do any good. Pressing against her own clit she gasps, feeling embarrassed at her own reaction to herself, and she hears her sister cackle softly. She loves doing this to her, torturing her with embarrassment. It seems to be her new idea of foreplay. But when Bellatrix speaks the husky words, “Go inside yourself,” Narcissa gasps again, but not out of pleasure. She finally looks at her, her eyes begging her not to go that far. “Do what I tell you,” Bellatrix orders softly, and Narcissa purses her lips before closing her eyes again, not wanting to see her sister watch her do this.
She slides two of her own fingers into herself, and can hear Bellatrix’s sound of approval. Slowly she starts to move them, trying not to submit to the feeling, but it’s proving difficult. She’s starting to breath heavier, her hips moving ever so slightly against the rhythm, and the familiar warmth starts spreading throughout her abdomen. A husky order of “Faster!” makes her speed up her fingers, feeling like she might die of embarrassment, but wishing she does so at least after she’s had some release. She’s panting now as she pleasures herself, her hips off the ground ever so slightly to push against her hand, and she just wants it to be over now.
But then a hand is on hers, stilling her movements. Breathing heavily, Narcissa finally finds the strength to open her eyes, wishing she could hate her sister for what she just made her do but finding that thought leave her when Bellatrix removes her fingers from her body and brings them to her lips. Narcissa just stares at her as she takes her fingers into her mouth, and whimpers softly.
“I forgot how good you tasted,” Bellatrix tells her softly, her tongue tracing each finger so to not miss a single drop. Narcissa is so close already she can barely stand this torture anymore, and it takes over her good sense.
Grabbing Bellatrix’s hand that was at her lips, she forces it down between her legs and hisses out desperately, “Fuck me, Bella. Please!” She hated that word, she hated all those words, but she knew if anything would save her for being that dominant it would be to slip out of character. And it didn’t matter anymore; the words, the masturbation, the games… any of it. Nothing compared to how badly she needed her sister’s fingers to be buried inside of her, to fill all of her completely like only she can.
Bellatrix looks shocked, angry for a moment for being interrupted. But at the sound of those words falling from her younger siblings mouth she smirks, feeling like she finally had corrupted the perfect little Narcissa. Tainted her, made her less virtuous. And so she slides three fingers inside of her, and Narcissa moans hard, low and deep in her throat as her hips rise off the surface, straining to get closer to her sister.
One hand is on her chest now, pressing against her ribs and pining her to the floor, and Narcissa doesn’t care because she knows Bellatrix needs to control. She grasps at the stone beneath her, needing to hold on to something, anything. As Bellatrix uses her skilled fingers to pleasure her deep inside, she can feel herself tighten around her, and her face contorts in pleasure as she pants out her sister’s name with every thrust.
Another finger has slid inside of her now, and though it’s tight and hurts a bit, Narcissa is far from caring. She just cries out loudly, loving that her sister is connected to her again, even if only in this way. Her nails scratch at the stone beneath her and she begs for release, she begs so much her voice becomes hoarse, so that when she does finally fall over the edge her screams aren’t as loud as they usually are, but the satisfaction is just a little bit better.
One short kiss, just a quick press of the lips that makes Narcissa gasp, leaving her wanting more. But as she’s coming down Bellatrix is already off of her, the connection gone, this stolen moment over. Narcissa doesn’t want to open her eyes, because she knows when she does she’ll be alone in this room, naked and satisfied on the floor, but yet the longing her heart so much worse, and her soul shredded just a little bit more.
THE END
Author: Sapphire Smoke cuzimastripper
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Bellatrix/Narcissa
Rating: NC-17
Length: 3,550 words
Summary: Narcissa's older sister has always captivated her... and always controlled her.
Warning: PWP femslash incest; Blackcest... all those little things that make you feel dirty for liking but you just can't help it ;)
These stolen moments they share are more the desire of the wicked’s passion to conquer, rather than of love. No, Narcissa was not foolish enough to believe that her sister could truly love another. But as Bellatrix whispers in her ear fleeting promises that are only truly just words and nothing more, Narcissa finds herself closing her eyes and believing all the lies. It never really matters anyway, does it? What’s truth and what isn’t? The line is so transparent it’s hard to say if it was ever really there in to begin with.
She cackles and taunts sometimes, her older sister. Cackles in her ear as she takes what’s hers and rips out a piece of her soul everytime she does it. But there’s no stopping it, there never is. She was Bellatrix’s… from the day she was born she always did what her eldest sister told her to do. And when Bellatrix tells her to become hers, even for a passing moment, she does so without question. She wants to be hers, more than anything in this world, but is only so because of her sister’s shallow means.
Bellatrix has always been everything to Narcissa. The only one ever really there throughout it all. The only one who knows her deepest secrets, protects her heart whilst she destroys it slowly. She wishes she could tell her no, but everytime Bella touches her, the heat that flows through her veins ignites her own passion and she finds herself being needed to be taken.
“Did you miss me?” she whispers in that maddening tone she always seems to have now. Narcissa remembers when she didn’t have that, when she was strong and focused, but without the psychosis. She blames Him for the madness, but will never speak of her theory out loud.
Bellatrix’s head rolls slightly as she brushes her lips against her sister’s neck, her hands running through her hair. She’s looking at her with wide eyes that would only portray innocence if not for the evil lurking behind them. She smiles before she brushes her lips up against the base of her neck again, lingering there for a moment as if taking in her scent.
“Always,” Narcissa breathes out, half in desire and half in fear. She knew she would always be safe with her sister by her side, because God himself would fear her wrath if something was to happen to her prized trophy… but that never settled the unnerving feeling that it does only take just a small moment to set her off.
Bellatrix was almost like a child still. So curious, so intent on playing her own twisted little games. Always giddy, even if for the wrong reasons. Always happy when she wins, especially when it ends in her opponent’s untimely demise. But like a child, she would throw fits when she didn’t get her way… only hers were far, far more dangerous than any toddler.
“Mmm…” Bellatrix purrs, her slender fingers with her long jagged fingernails sliding down Narcissa’s throat, coming to rest at her jugular. Her eyes flash, like she wants to close her grip around her neck, but then the moment is gone and that smile comes back as she hums a little tune as the fingers slide slowly down, starting to disrobe her youngest sibling. “When will he be back?” she asks her in a low voice, looking at Narcissa like she needs to devour her quickly.
Narcissa finds her voice breaking slightly as she stands there nude in front of her, unwilling to move. Possibly even scared to move. “Not till dawn,” she whispers, speaking of Lucius. Bellatrix touches her then, just a slight movement of her fingertips against her breast and she trembles a bit. Anticipation and fear are entirely too similar to Narcissa now a days.
“Perfect,” she says in a low voice, her nail tracing her sister’s nipple as she watches it, her eyes following her finger as if entranced. Narcissa doesn’t move, she doesn’t even speak. Her breath catches in her throat and her eyes flutter shut, but knows she needs to wait. Bellatrix tells her when, how… this is her game. Her sister is just a pawn in it.
The fourteen years they were apart makes Bellatrix need her sister at every chance they can get away with. When once it was a couple times a year, back when they were both small, or when they both first got tied down by wedlock, now they found themselves tangled up in each other as much as a couple times a week. Fourteen years is a lot of time to make up for, and there was no time to start like the present.
Narcissa was still unmoving; her eyes closed as Bellatrix took a step closer to her and ran her fingertips lightly down her body. Over ever dip, over every curve… just watching Narcissa stand there for her, like a magnificent piece of art on display, but yet at the same time just a mere toy for her own satisfaction. Narcissa shivered as her hands taunted just above her hairline, and the anticipation was slowly rising through her body.
But she knows how this goes, the same way it always does. So Bellatrix steps back and looks at her, identical dark eyes boring into each other, and Narcissa knows what she’s expected to do. Slowly she disrobes her sister as Bellatrix just stands there, and after each piece of flesh begins to get exposed she kisses it lightly. Her neck, down to her shoulder, her chest, her hands, her stomach. Bellatrix is unmoving, just watches her do what she needs her to do. Her little trophy prize; her escape from the madness.
Their pale flesh connects after Narcissa has finished, but Bellatrix steps back from her. She doesn’t want the closeness today. Narcissa tries to pretend that doesn’t hurt, but it seems like more often than not recently there isn’t a place for her next to her older sister. When once they used to tangle themselves up in the sheets, bodies pressed together like they’re bound by a spell, now Bellatrix is so distant, detached.
“Once here,” Bellatrix tells her softly, bringing her long slender finger to her lips. Then she drags it down her body slowly, to rest between her legs, “Then here… until I’m finished.”
Narcissa has her instructions, and she brings her lips to her sister’s, and softly kisses her. This is why she wishes she could tell her no, because it hurts too much to do it this way. To kiss her only once when that, more than any of their other acts together, is the thing that makes her feel close to her. The thing that makes her feel like she is more to Bellatrix than just another game. But just as their tongues make contact, Bellatrix breaks it and guides her slowly to the floor with one hand on her shoulder. Narcissa goes with no reluctance, because to disobey her wishes might mean the end of this closeness, no matter how far away they still were from each other.
Bellatrix has always loved power, becoming seduced by it before gaining control over it, and that is why she adores it when her sister is on her knees in front of her, obeying her commands. It’s like she’s her Mistress, and nothing else comes before serving her. If only she knew how much Narcissa wished her sister would do the same, if only for a moment. If she could sacrifice her power, just once, just for her.
Narcissa kneels in front of her, succumbing to her needs, as her delicate hands slide up her thighs. She wishes she could tell her how beautiful she was, how amazing she looked, but those were things that could never be voice out loud. It would make Bellatrix start to feel again, and she had made it very clear she never wished to do so anymore. So Narcissa kisses her gently, just once on her clitoris, before pausing for a minute to take in the scent of her forbidden lover.
“Cissy,” Bellatrix gasps out, half in anticipation, the other half demanding, or maybe even in a bit of a warning. She wants her to go on with it, to not doddle down there. Narcissa wishes that for just once she could take her time, like how it used to be, because it’s been so long that she’s ever really been able to appreciate the magnificent creature that her eldest sibling was.
But Narcissa relents, not one to mess with Bella’s temper. Finally going in for more than just a mere taste, she moans softly against her sister’s sensitive flesh. Bellatrix gasps, the hand that was on her shoulder coming to tangle in her long blonde hair. A shudder, another gasp as her legs spread wider, giving Narcissa more room to do as she’s told. Narcissa’s fingers are gripping her thighs, maybe just a bit too roughly, to hold her in place. But Bellatrix enjoys a bit of pain, a bit more pressure during these moments… it overshadows the love for her.
She tastes like honey to Narcissa, like a treat only given to those deemed worthy, which is probably why she has such a hold on her. Warping her mind, making her believe the implication that she is her better, and that Narcissa should be lucky to even have these few moments with her. And as Bellatrix’s grips tightens, pulling her head closer to her by her hair, and her panting getting louder, Narcissa knows she’s drawing nearer to the edge.
“More,” Bellatrix orders between light gasps, her grip near painful on her sister’s scalp. With a few skilled flicks of her tongue in an area known more to Narcissa than Bellatrix’s own husband, she shudders, releasing a scream as her knees buckle. Narcissa’s grip on her tightens, holding her up as she lets her ride out her wave of ecstasy, devouring every offering she allows her lighter counterpart to have.
And then with a quick push of her sister’s hand, Narcissa falls to the ground. The cool stone connects with the heat of her flesh and she knows not to move from where she was placed. She looks up at Bellatrix, who’s flushed and still dazed, and just waits.
Bellatrix stands above her, her eyes wandering every inch of Narcissa’s body like a wolf hungry for it’s next meal. She waves her hands at her, just lightly, but Narcissa knows the unspoken command. She spreads her legs for her, as wide as she can possibly allow her aging body to do, knowing her sister loves taking a few moments to view her prize. It’s almost degrading, to be put on display so openly for her, if not for how it made Narcissa feel for Bellatrix to look at her in that way. Like maybe for once she was something that was grand.
Bellatrix falls to her knees then, and then slowly, like an agile cat, crawls up her body. Narcissa finds herself wanting to strain forwards for their bodies to connect, but knows that’s not what her sister wishes. So she lies there, ever so still, waiting for her turn. Waiting for Bellatrix to decide what she wants, or even like sometimes, decide she wants nothing at all.
“You love that, don’t you, my dear Cissy?” Bellatrix whispers, still not touching her. But a smirk adorns her face ever so slightly before she brings her lips to hover above her neck, and then her shoulder, teasing her with her light breath against it. Narcissa’s eyes flutter softly shut for a moment as she imagines how they feel when they do grace her skin.
“Yes,” she whispered breathlessly, and then she feels her sister’s lips on her flesh, only just barely, dragging from her chest to her throat. She wants to move, she wants to touch her, but she’s afraid to.
“And you want me to touch you now,” Bellatrix half purrs, half taunts before her lips connect with her throat, kissing her softly. Narcissa’s heart is speeding up, her breathing becoming shallower, and she’s sure she’s laying in a puddle of her own desire.
“Yes,” Narcissa breathes out, hoping that this isn’t going to turn into another of Bellatrix’s games. Then she finds herself holding her breath, waiting for her sister to speak, needing to know how this night is going to play out, if it even will at all.
“Mmm…” Bellatrix purrs again, and out of nowhere slides a finger through Narcissa’s folds, making her open her eyes in surprise and gasp before emitting a moan. “I can tell,” Bellatrix finishes, with a hint of amusement in her voice as she holds up her soaked finger, as if taunting her with it. Narcissa just looks at her, her chest heaving, unable to speak due to not knowing what to say.
Then dark hair mixes with her light as Bellatrix’s head falls to her shoulder. She brushes her lips against Narcissa’s neck and with a low tone that indicated amusement and power told her, “Then beg me.”
“Please,” Narcissa gasps out immediately, finding herself squirming beneath her, just wanting to feel something, anything. The friction of her thighs isn’t enough to satisfy, and ends up leaving her wanting more. She whimpers softly.
“Gotta do better than that, lover,” Bellatrix purrs softly, taunting her. The games have begun.
Narcissa hates when she makes her do this, makes her degrade herself even further for her just for the gratification of her sister. But no matter how awful it can be, how tasteless and how crude Bellatrix can make it, she knows it’s just one little price to pay for the feeling of being with her. “Please Bella,” she gasps, looking at her like she hoped this was the only thing she would have to do to earn her pleasure. “Please, I’ll do anything. Anything,” she stresses, being entirely serious. She would do anything for her anyway. She already does.
“I love when you say that word,” Bellatrix hisses in her ear before she’s off of her quickly. Narcissa groans from the lack of contact, and looks at her sister, who’s now just a foot from the center of her legs. But she wasn’t crouched down, no. Not ready to do something that Narcissa can merely hope to dream about because… Bellatrix never kissed her down there anymore. But she’s sitting on her heels, looking at the desire dripping down her sister’s thighs, and Narcissa doesn’t know what her angle is this time.
Instead of speaking, Bellatrix reaches for Narcissa’s hand, and she has the flicker of hope that maybe she didn’t want to play anymore, that maybe for once she wanted to feel more than just her sister’s skin… but then she guides her hand between her own legs. Narcissa looks up at her, shocked and embarrassed, and moves to take her hand away, but Bellatrix stills it.
“You said anything,” Bellatrix reminds her softly with a wicked smile. Narcissa flushes and looks away from her. Last week it was making her say words that should never fall from her lips. No, not someone as sophisticated and high class as her. But she did it, she called parts of her body the most vile words for her, just so she could get a taste. But for her to want her to do… the thought was almost too much for her to handle, let alone carrying it out. Ladies do not touch themselves; they wait for men to do it.
But yet, Bellatrix was no man. She was her own flesh and blood, a mortal sin to lie with in her own right, and Bellatrix tortures her with each passing week, indulging in more and more of the things that someone of her standards should never have to do. But Bellatrix is kneeling over her, looking at her curiously, wondering if for once she has pushed her too far. Part of Narcissa thinks that she wants to, that she wants her to tell her no… but she can’t. She never can, and so as Bellatrix lets go of her hand, she slides it over herself, into her own wet heat.
“Yes Cissy… good girl…” Bellatrix purrs, and Narcissa can’t look at her as she does this. Her face is hot, so much she feels her embarrassment spread through her entire body, and she’s sure her milky white flesh is now darker with it’s rosy hint. She can hear Bellatrix’ breathing start to pick up, her own desire flowing from her pores from watching Narcissa shamefully play with herself on display for her lustful eyes.
Narcissa can’t see her, but she can feel her eyes all over her. She closes her own, but it doesn’t do any good. Pressing against her own clit she gasps, feeling embarrassed at her own reaction to herself, and she hears her sister cackle softly. She loves doing this to her, torturing her with embarrassment. It seems to be her new idea of foreplay. But when Bellatrix speaks the husky words, “Go inside yourself,” Narcissa gasps again, but not out of pleasure. She finally looks at her, her eyes begging her not to go that far. “Do what I tell you,” Bellatrix orders softly, and Narcissa purses her lips before closing her eyes again, not wanting to see her sister watch her do this.
She slides two of her own fingers into herself, and can hear Bellatrix’s sound of approval. Slowly she starts to move them, trying not to submit to the feeling, but it’s proving difficult. She’s starting to breath heavier, her hips moving ever so slightly against the rhythm, and the familiar warmth starts spreading throughout her abdomen. A husky order of “Faster!” makes her speed up her fingers, feeling like she might die of embarrassment, but wishing she does so at least after she’s had some release. She’s panting now as she pleasures herself, her hips off the ground ever so slightly to push against her hand, and she just wants it to be over now.
But then a hand is on hers, stilling her movements. Breathing heavily, Narcissa finally finds the strength to open her eyes, wishing she could hate her sister for what she just made her do but finding that thought leave her when Bellatrix removes her fingers from her body and brings them to her lips. Narcissa just stares at her as she takes her fingers into her mouth, and whimpers softly.
“I forgot how good you tasted,” Bellatrix tells her softly, her tongue tracing each finger so to not miss a single drop. Narcissa is so close already she can barely stand this torture anymore, and it takes over her good sense.
Grabbing Bellatrix’s hand that was at her lips, she forces it down between her legs and hisses out desperately, “Fuck me, Bella. Please!” She hated that word, she hated all those words, but she knew if anything would save her for being that dominant it would be to slip out of character. And it didn’t matter anymore; the words, the masturbation, the games… any of it. Nothing compared to how badly she needed her sister’s fingers to be buried inside of her, to fill all of her completely like only she can.
Bellatrix looks shocked, angry for a moment for being interrupted. But at the sound of those words falling from her younger siblings mouth she smirks, feeling like she finally had corrupted the perfect little Narcissa. Tainted her, made her less virtuous. And so she slides three fingers inside of her, and Narcissa moans hard, low and deep in her throat as her hips rise off the surface, straining to get closer to her sister.
One hand is on her chest now, pressing against her ribs and pining her to the floor, and Narcissa doesn’t care because she knows Bellatrix needs to control. She grasps at the stone beneath her, needing to hold on to something, anything. As Bellatrix uses her skilled fingers to pleasure her deep inside, she can feel herself tighten around her, and her face contorts in pleasure as she pants out her sister’s name with every thrust.
Another finger has slid inside of her now, and though it’s tight and hurts a bit, Narcissa is far from caring. She just cries out loudly, loving that her sister is connected to her again, even if only in this way. Her nails scratch at the stone beneath her and she begs for release, she begs so much her voice becomes hoarse, so that when she does finally fall over the edge her screams aren’t as loud as they usually are, but the satisfaction is just a little bit better.
One short kiss, just a quick press of the lips that makes Narcissa gasp, leaving her wanting more. But as she’s coming down Bellatrix is already off of her, the connection gone, this stolen moment over. Narcissa doesn’t want to open her eyes, because she knows when she does she’ll be alone in this room, naked and satisfied on the floor, but yet the longing her heart so much worse, and her soul shredded just a little bit more.
THE END