Chapter 23: Chapter 23- Omake 1
Bellatrix POV
It has been a month since I've had the pleasure of meeting him, and it has been a little over two weeks since I've become his toy.
I Bellatrix Elladora Black am proud to be Julius Antioch Peverell's toy, in heart, in magic, in soul but most importantly, in body.
And right now, like many times before I was proving it.
I have been sneaking out if of my uncle's manor, ever since the day we've met, and i am currently receiving my well deserved reward, for all my efforts.
He's moving slowly inside me. One of his hand held one of mine. His whole body was pressed flush against mine, while rocking back and forth ever so slowly. His lips whom recently had been exploring every nook and cranny of my skin, were now whispering in my ear.
"My dear Bella, That was your third, so be a good girl and hold on for me ok. You will not cum again, at least not until i've had my fill."
I nod my acceptance as he tenderly swept my hair out of my eyes, And rains a flurry of soft kisses to my temple.
Afterwards, he pulls away while making sure not slip out of me, and looks at my face with serene smile on his lips before speaking again.
"Have I ever told you just beautiful you are?"
I quickly look away to hide the deep blush that adorn my face, and in response I could only nod shyly at his question.
"Well I don't think I have said it enough, you my dear Bella are by far the most beautiful woman in the world, my warrior queen, my bright star."
I have heard many praises, many flattering words from both boys and men alike. Yet none ever felt so right, so natural.
As my blush crept down my neck, Julius once claimed my lips. Before slowly increasing the speed of his thrusts.
After we brok our kiss he once more whispers in my ear.
"You're mine.
Two simple words, two words is all it took to shatter whatever wall I had built, whatever remained of that said wall.
And I could not help but reaffirm my decision.
"Yes, Sir."
He slowly but surely decreased the speed of his thrusts, and opted out for a slow grind making sure he had explored every inch me.
Had someone heard the noises that I was making, they would have thought someone was being tortured.
I sounded like...like...like a harlot? No I sound like one of those two knut whores from Knockturn alley that father and I passed by during my first trip to that cursed place.
Yet despite the wild and indecent moans that were escaping my lips, they were music to his ears.
He maintained his slow pace. It's soft and sweet. And despite my reluctance to defy his orders, I was so excruciatingly close to orgasm again for the fourth time. An orgasm he clearly wouldn't allow.
A release he would no doubt deny.
If you took away the authoritative tone laced in his words, this sex would be classified as slow and light. There are no cuffs, no chains, no clamps, no plugs, no whips or paddles. Nor was he pounding into me with the intent of breeding me.
He's not even fucking my ass as he often does. If it had been a few days ago then at that time I would of hated sex like this and would make my skin crawl.
Giving Julius my maidenhood was violent affair, filled with pain, slaps, and bites just how I envisioned it.
So this slowness and the sweetness made me restless, and I wanted it over as soon as possible. light hearted sex would never be that great nor will it ever hold my attention.
I needed more. I needed hair pulling and nails digging into my hips, that wild and primal fucking.
Or at least, I thought I did. What I really needed was ownership, the mental calm that comes from being controlled by someone who craves my obedience. And here, I feel his ownership in every single moment. I know that I am a girl who doesn't get to choose.
I don't choose when he fucks me or how, or whether I will be allowed release. I don't even think about it. I just do what he chooses for me to do and feel what he chooses for me to feel. That's it.
He gives me a soft shush as I begin to whimper.
"I know, love. I know it's hard, but you're so beautiful when you struggle for me. You're such a good girl. You are the most beautiful girl I the world, my slave, and only I get to use you as I see fit."
He kisses my neck as he keeps a steady rhythm inside me. I must remain calm and alert in this moment with him.
This?.. all of this doesn't feel vanilla to me at all.
Is it Love? Or is it something else? No it is our own brand of love.
I was not even sure that it was possible, after all he is him and I am me. Owner and property. I am his in all ways, even the soft and sweet ones.
There's nothing normal about that, nor is there anything normal about us.
We just are what we are.
And I know that I am his little whore, his property. And choses do to whatever he sees fit to me.
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