Inell's Fanfiction Archive

She had always been fascinated by his hair. The color of snow, much like her Cissa's, soft and beautiful. It was his greatest vanity, falling to his firm arse by the time he reached his forties. When she had escaped Azkaban, the first thing that reached the memories long buried within was that hair. A sneer on his lips when she had tried to touch it, coldly informing her that she was no longer worthy of such an honor. Recalling all too easily the nights of yore when she would be surrounded by his and Cissa's hair, pale gold on her heated flesh, she had watched and waited, knowing she would have a chance to have him again, to feel that hair.

Her patience had been rewarded. Escaping from Azkaban, he had sought refuge with their Lord. Believing himself safe, he had not bothered placing charms on his room, too tired to bother with such precaution for the first time ever. It had been her chance, sneaking into his room, placing her own charms on the door. There was no Cissa to intrude this time. There was no sharing with her dear sister as she had straddled Lucius, bringing his flaccid cock to life with her tongue and mouth before burying it inside her. She had ridden him as he slept, her hands seeking the soft comfort of the blond locks she recalled so fondly. Twisting them around her hands, she had gripped his hair tightly as she plunged up and down on his erection. When his eyes had fluttered open, thick with sleep, widening as he realized it was not a dream, he had tried to dislodge her from his cock.

Having none of that, she had pulled his hair, noticing distantly the way it looked against the pale flesh of his neck. He had begun to buck beneath her, sending himself so deep, his face turning the prettiest shade of pink as she forced his hair tighter against his throat. Such soft hair, the color distracting her as she used her strength to keep him in place. He was gasping curses, hexes, his wand out of reach so his words having no effect other than causing her lips to curve in amusement. He could not break the spell on his arms, his nails digging into his smooth palms as he tried to free himself from her. He should know it was useless. She had asked nicely but he had refused, treating her as if she were some inferior animal, giving her the look of contempt he gave the Mudbloods. Never again would he dismiss her as worthless, ignoring her, calling her crazy.

She came with a growl, strands of pale blond hair tangled in her fingers as she released her grip. Looking at his handsome face, she saw the blank look in his gray eyes. Smiling, she leaned over and brushed his lips with hers. He was still warm but his lips were all ready cold. With a calculating look in her eyes, Bellatrix moved beside the body of her brother-in-law, burying her face in his soft hair. She would keep him just like this, she decided. His hair so comforting even as his body grew cold.