Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the characters mentioned in this story. Never have, and never will. I’m just borrowing them to do tawdry naughty things with them that J.K. certainly never dreamed of.
Warning: PWP, incest
Narcissa exhaled softly as her back harshly connected with the wall behind her, the rough stone digging into the flesh of her back through the thin material of her robe. Despite the rough treatment, however, she felt her body relax upon contact, sagging against the surface behind her, giving into the pain. It was easier that way, she knew from experience.
“I changed my mind,” Bellatrix said, her tone conversational as she stepped closer to her sister until they were standing front to front, breast to breast, hip to hip, her body pressing Narcissa harder against the wall causing the stone to dig into her flesh even more, causing her eyes to close as she bit her lip.
As she felt her sister’s warmth against her body, her warm breath tickling the sensitive skin of her neck, Narcissa found herself wondering if Bella really had much of a mind to change now, if she ever had. Azkaban had certainly done nothing to help her sister’s sanity, but Bellatrix had never really been all that sane to begin with. Narcissa speculated that it was probably a relief for her to lose whatever tendrils of sanity she had managed to hold onto during childhood, that she probably felt more free, and alive and powerful than she ever had before by giving free reign to her madness.
“I don’t want … wine,” Bellatrix continued licking her lips during the pause in her speech, her hand lifting and coming to rest against Narcissa’s neck, closing around it, squeezing and forcing Narcissa’s head back, banging it against the wall before she loosened her hold, her fingers moving to stroke her sister’s neck almost tenderly. Worshipping the delicate, pale, almost translucent skin she found there.
“Did you ever?” Narcissa breathed out softly, her gaze fluttering towards the racks of wine that adored the cellars other walls. Bellatrix had requested a vintage she didn’t have on hand when they had retired to parlor after dinner. The damn house elves were busy cleaning up after dinner and preparing tea so Narcissa had consented to delve down into the depths of the house herself to fetch the wine and please her beloved sister.
Holding her robes delicately pinched between her slim fingers she had descended the stairs and began to move towards the correct rack when she heard the stairs creak behind her. She had turned just in time to see Bella surge towards her, and had stumbled back. And then further back, and back still as her dark sibling continued to advance on her until her back was against the wall and Bellatrix was pinned to her front.
“You’ve found me out, Cissy,” Bellatrix murmured her eyes momentarily flashing with amusement in addition to the usual madness. “Clever, but not too swift. Some things never change,” she continued before leaning forward and attaching her lips to Narcissa’s neck where her fingers had been playing moments before.
Narcissa’s perfectly painted lips opened to respond scathingly to Bellatrix’s insult, but closed as she felt her sister’s tongue bath her skin. She was being gentle for the moment and Narcissa didn’t want to anything to upset her. She had left her wand in the parlor but she could feel Bellatrix’s pressing against her thigh. She was at her sister’s mercy, and knew that sauciness wasn’t part of the play.
“Good girl,” Bellatrix murmured against Narcissa’s neck. She had felt her sister tense for a moment and wondered if the woman would be stupid enough to challenge her, but almost as soon as Narcissa stiffened, she relaxed again, a soft sigh issuing forth from her throat.
“Yes,” Narcissa breathed out as she felt Bellatrix’s hands move to her hips and then the silky slide of her robe brushing against her legs as Bella slowly pulled it up, bunching the material in her hands. ‘Good girl’, was not a phrase many people ever used to describe Narcissa Black, and that fewer still used in reference to Narcissa Malfoy, and it was certainly not a phrase that she would have attributed to herself, with one exception.
She had always been a good girl for Bella, from the first time her sister had crept into her room in the dead of the night, she had been a good girl for her. Because for all of her cruelty and psychosis, Bella could be charming and tender when she chose to be. She had always been in her sister’s favor, protected and loved by her, and she had wanted to keep it that way. She had wanted to stay Bella’s special girl. So even though she was scared and uncertain, when Bella had crawled on top of her and bent down close to her ear whispering for her to be quiet, Narcissa had nodded like a good girl and tried her best not to make a sound. Even when Bella’s hand slipped underneath her panties and touched her special place she did nothing more than gasp, and when Bella’s fingers poked into her, despite the initial pain Narcissa had simply turned her head into her pillow and bit down. And when they were done, Bella had smoothed back wisps of blonde hair that had plastered themselves to Narcissa’s sweaty forehead and kissed her, telling her what a good girl she was and how much she pleased her.
From that night on, she had continued to please her sister in whatever way Bella wanted. With her knees digging into the cool, hard tile of the Hogwarts shower and her head buried between Bella’s legs as her sister’s fingers gripped her hair, or behind the curtain of her canopy bed with Bella’s hand over her mouth and her fingers moving between her legs as her dorm mates slept. Or late at night in the Forbidden section of the library, Bella’s wand between her legs as she stared at browned pages covered in words of forbidden pleasure, her body twitching and spasming in pain and ecstasy as Bella lorded over her scratching and stroking. Or with her head resting in Bella’s lap as she read to her from the latest book of Dark Magic she had procured, or fondled her newest dark object speaking reverently about it and the damage it could inflict, her eyes glinting with lunacy as her hand moved up and down Narcissa’s arm with an incongruent tenderness.
She hadn’t thought about the schizophrenic nature of her relationship with her sister for years, about how she had been both at the mercy of Bella’s mad and unique expressions of love and yet also protected by it.
“…I couldn’t even think of you.” Bellatrix’s voice cut through the fog in Narcissa’s mind, bringing her back to the present, to Bella’s hand under her robe grasping her panties, tugging them artfully, the material pulling tight, digging mercilessly into the sensitive, enflamed flesh between Narcissa’s legs. She cried out, and sighed, her nails clawing down her sister’s back as she rocked her hips into her sister’s hand.
“Now you’re free,” Narcissa managed to gasp as Bella paused in her ministrations to free her wand and divest Narcissa of her underwear, and her robe, leaving her wet and exposed, shivering against the cool air of the cellar as the wall dug into the flesh of her back in earnest now that barrier of clothing had been removed.
“Did you think of me?” Bellatrix asked, simply standing in front of Narcissa, her eyes roaming up and down her pale, thin body before piercing Narcissa’s ice blue eyes with her own black orbs.
“Often,” Narcissa said softly, her eyes trained on her sister before she extended a willowy, porcelain hand out to her.
She was cold without Bellatrix close to warm her.
She had gotten used to being her sister’s girl over the years, had felt a smug satisfaction and arrogance at the fact that she seemed to have a singular pull on what heart Bellatrix had. At school she had marched through hallways, had let poisonous words fall from her lips, manipulated and made demands, knowing that she could because Bellatrix would protect her. Knowing that she could because everyone knew that Bellatrix would protect her, that to mess with Narcissa was to incur her older sister’s wrath. She had gotten used to wearing Bellatrix’s love like armour, to pleasing Bellatrix as only she could, to lying in her sister’s embrace in the dark.
When the reality of her pending marriage to Lucius had fully hit her in her last year at Hogwarts, she had become sullen and withdrawn, already acutely feeling Bellatrix’s loss with her sister out in the world while she was still in school, the idea of being without her dark sibling permanently setting her on edge. She was not foolish enough to entertain thoughts ending the engagement or even postponing the nuptials. However, during the Christmas break she had attached herself to Bellatrix with an unseemly desperation, hours perhaps entire days of her vacation spent kneeling before Bellatrix, her tongue working between her legs, or pressed up against walls with Bella’s fingers pistoning inside of her. Bella of course knew, without Narcissa having to suffer the indignity of telling her, what had brought on the behavior, and gently running her fingers down Narcissa’s bound, taunt arms one night had assured her that they would still have time together after the marriage during her sisterly visits. And, as Narcissa arched up, pulling against her bonds, Bella had whispered that she would always be her special girl.
When Lucius informed her that Bellatrix had been captured and was being transported to Azkaban as they spoke, she nodded silently and left the room. Bellatrix had lied to her, they wouldn’t be together anymore and she felt strongly like being a very bad girl. She managed to destroy the sitting room and break half of their china before Lucius was able to subdue her.
“Good girl,” Bellatrix said stepping into Narcissa’s body once again, forcing her legs apart roughly with her thigh. “All mine, once more.”
“Yours,” Narcissa gasped her back scraping against the wall hard enough to draw blood this time as Bellatrix pushed against her, driving her back as her fingers plunged into her, immediately picking up a fierce, relentless rhythm.
As Narcissa’s body shook, her skin slick with sweat, pleasure, and where her back had been against the wall, blood, her head fell forward to rest on Bellatrix’s shoulder. Her sister combed her fingers through her luxurious blonde locks as the spasms running through Narcissa’s body lessened, and the blonde sighed contentedly, relaxing for the first time since Lucius had been sent away.
Her breathing finally back to normal, Narcissa’s fingers moved the ties holding Bella's robe together. She knew it was not necessary for her to live in fear any longer, that she could hold her head high once again. Bellatrix had returned to her. Things were finally as they should be.