A Spider's Devotion
Bellatrix gave a wicked smile. If she was going to go down, she would be taking someone with her. The muggle woman seemed like the perfect person to bring along. Bellatrix knew very well that she was a wicked woman indeed. Unapologetically so.
Isabella was another matter.
The woman had a wickedness of her own, but she had some compassion in her. Some good that had been claimed to years of abuse and torment.
The poor woman had no idea that she was only setting herself up for more.
For the time, Bellatrix gave her the illusion of control. She lets the woman shove her onto the bed and bite at her lip. She was an aggressive little thing. A passionately aggressive little thing. Bellatrix roughly grabbed her wavy locks and dug her fingers in.
Isabella returns the favor by digging her nails into Bellatrix’s wrists and applying more force to the kiss.
Bellatrix decided that she would mix things up, wrapping her legs around Isabella and flipping the woman over so that she was on top. Isabella winced, but recovered rather quickly. She raked her nails over Bellatrix’s spine. It sent a tingle of pleasure down her spine.
This woman knew the works of her game.
She knew it well.
For herself, Bellatrix knew very well that by the end of their night there would be shattered glasses and broken candelabras.
What a reckless pair they were.
And perhaps that was why they were in such a precious predicament.
Isabella had warned her not to make a show of her magic. That magic was branded as evil in this world. That those even thought to be practicing its art would be sentenced to execution. What a joke. Bellatrix had gone out of her way to make a spectacle of herself the morning prior. Heavily cloaked, she cast hex and curse aplenty until the village folk began pointing fingers.
Oh yes, she had them in a frenzy.
Their bloodlust almost rivaled her own.
What a thrill it was.
“Damned!” They cried. “We are a kingdom damned! Plagued with witches and doomed to sleep in eternal fire.”
A dramatic lot they were.
Tearing each other down to stop the spread of apparent evil. Lighting their own women aflame and sentencing their men to the seas. It was all according to plan. Mostly, Isabella’s cunning. For that, she had to give the muggle credit, she had the mind of a Slytherin. If only she wasn’t using a true Slytherin to achieve her means. She trailed her lips over Isabella’s chest. A clever woman. A woman of new wealth. In the midst of the chaos she crafted, the woman had made a grab. Through the fire that charred the accused, Isabella extended an arm and snatched for power and status.
Bellatrix could only imagine their shock when they found their dear sheriff tangled in the sheets with her. It would be a two for one; it was a scandal in itself for a woman to bed another woman, much less a practitioner of the black arts.
She kissed Isabella with more persistence, pushing herself deeper.
Oh, eventually the townsfolk would point their fingers at her. Eventually they’d come knocking and find the two locked together so she might as well have fun with her toy while she could.