Inell's Fanfiction Archive

Her touch was scalding.


Her hands moved along his chest, black eyes looking at him in the same way James eyed the cherry tarts they had for dessert every Thursday evening. Fingers traced the muscles in his stomach and chest, nails digging into his skin deep enough to draw the faintest sheen of blood. She laughed when he bled, her lips curling into an amused smile as she spread the drops of blood over his skin. Her black hair brushing against him when she leaned forward and licked the blood away.


They shouldn’t be doing this. He knew it was wrong on so many levels yet he always came back. For nearly four years, he had been under her spell. Drawn to her heat like a moth to a flame, drifting closer and closer, unable to turn away. It was the one part of his life in which he did not have total control. He couldn’t resist her, couldn’t resist the forbidden desire he felt each time her dark eyes found him whether it be across the Great Hall during meals, in the hallways between classes, at the Quidditch pitch during a game. As soon as she was looking at him, focusing her intense gaze on him, he felt the pull towards her.


Every night he told himself it would be the last. He was sixteen now, no longer the naïve twelve year old that had eagerly obeyed her demands out of curiosity and an insatiable desire to break the rules. Surely one of the worst rules to break was allowing his cousin to touch him, kiss him, to place his lips against the pink folds between her legs and lick, suck, taste until she was keening with pleasure. Together, they had broken every rule, engaging in wicked acts that would shock his father and horrify his mum, that knowledge making it even more exciting.


He hated her. She was just like the rest of them, worse than most because he could see the madness in her eyes when she was sliding the blade of her favorite knife against his chest, could see the pleasure she took in causing him pain. This was her last year at Hogwarts, their last stolen moments in empty classrooms in the dungeon. When she was gone, it would end. He would forget her scorching caress, the warmth of her breath on his bare skin, the heat in her eyes as she moaned his name when he satisfied her desires.


Sirius suddenly pushed her against the wall, listening to her soft hiss of appreciation as he tore her knickers, thrusting into her wet cunt roughly. She had taught him well, shown him the pleasure that could be found when there was a cry of pain, a look of fear, a moment of hesitance before succumbing to the pleasure. The fever spread through his body, his skin flushed, sweaty, black hair sticking to his forehead as he penetrated her deeply. She did not whimper or cringe in fear. Instead she twisted and fought, her teeth biting his neck, her nails digging into his back.


Remus always whimpered, hazel eyes watching him carefully, words of ‘no’ and ‘stop’ always fading until there was nothing but soft moans and pleas for more. The fear and desire in his lover’s eyes causing Sirius to grip slender hips tightly, to enter deeper, to savor the sensations as he gave in to the heated lust burning in his veins.


But Bellatrix never begged. She took it all, laughing and fighting, drawing blood and causing pain until they were both consumed by the fire. Sirius had learned something very important from his cousin over the years. When you play with fire, you always get burned.


The End