dance with the devil || [JAMES]

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?Quinn?

Slytherin

Seventh Year

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dance with the devil || [JAMES] Oct 22, 2013 8:07:43 GMT -8

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Post by BELLATRIX PROSERPINA BLACK on Oct 22, 2013 8:07:43 GMT -8

Potter -

Astronomy Tower. Now.

Bellatrix didn’t bother to leave her name on the note, it was obvious who it was from...or at least, that’s what she thought. The fiery young Slytherin girl silently slipped her quill back onto her desk and stared down at the ink that was upon the parchment. Bellatrix Black did not need herself associated with James Potter, despite what had transpired over their holiday break together. It had been a fluke; a strange occurrence that would never happen again. And that was exactly what she intended to tell Potter when they met this evening.

A strange chill ran down her spine when she thought of what had happened over the holiday. It had been surreal, one moment they were tearing one another down with spells and insults and then next? The next it had been extremist ecstasy running through her veins. She clearly recalled ripping each other’s clothes off, their lips pressed against each others’ in a fit of passion and-

Bells immediately stopped her train of thought, knowing that reliving it would only cause her more confusion. She was not to fraternize with a Gryffindor. Especially Potter for that matter. The house elf that was standing near her desk looked up as she thrust the letter in his direction, ”Make sure this gets to Potter. Now.” She commanded rather forcefully. The elf took the parchment and seconds later disappeared with a light pop into the air.

She gave herself a moment to collect her thoughts, desperately trying not to think about what she was about to do before she stood up and slipped on her riding boots. The raven-haired girl cast one look in the mirror and threw her hair up. Minimal effort, she assured herself as she fixed her most deviant of expressions on her face in the mirror. She would not let Potter get in her way - she was, after all, Bellatrix Black.

Walking through the castle, Bells pulled her loose sweater around her thin frame. Once and for all, She assured herself. She climbed the stairs of the astronomy tower with great care, each step one closer to the strange meeting that she had set up.

The room that she had chosen overlooked the castle’s grounds, dimly lit by the light of the moon. Absentmindedly, the Slytherin began lighting some of the candles that adorned the room, giving way to more light. Her thoughts were running a million miles a second, and she was glad that Potter hadn’t made his grand appearance yet. She needed more time to clear her thoughts, more moments where she could gather the words. Bellatrix was not going to subject herself to a shameful affair with the very man that she had loathed for years.

”You’re late.” She muttered when she heard the door open. A prickle went through her body, adrenaline close to the surface. It had been almost a week since they had returned from Italy and she had been ardently trying to avoid him. Bells blew out the lighting candle that was in her hands and raised both of her eyebrows before darling to look up at James Potter, the cause of her dubious affair with a Gryffindor.

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dance with the devil || [JAMES] Oct 22, 2013 18:46:27 GMT -8

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Post by Deleted on Oct 22, 2013 18:46:27 GMT -8

ooc// WARNING: EXPLICIT SEXUAL SUGGESTIONS AND LANGUAGE.

James stepped out of the sweltering shower, thick clouds of white steam curling around his damp figure. He leaned up against the counter containing several sinks, taking in the image in the mirror of himself, still dripping wet, with a towel around his neck. His lips felt numb, the same as they had ever since that fateful evening with the vicarious Ms. Bellatrix Black. He put down upon the tingling sensation, dragging his fingers along his lips gingerly. His eyes rolled back slightly as he remembered a select few moments of the events that had transpired in the Mortelle's manor in Italy over the winter holiday.

They had been in the center of a vicious battle, perhaps the most treacherous of any of the duo's duels thus far. Something was different this time, he had utterly cornered her and she knew it. In an act of what must of been desperation, she had kissed him...and he had melted entirely into her.

The feeling of her milk white skin, smooth against his teeth as he bit down on her tender shoulder was a sensation that had driven him mad. The smell of musky sweet sweat mingled with the delicate traces of her perfume had intoxicated him, and the scent still filled his nose. She bit his lip, and he moaned deeply, no one had ever made him feel so raw, so...primal.

James shook his head vigorously, attempting to halt the dangerous memories flowing like liquid gold through the intricate framework of his mind. Gripping tight to the porcelain basin before him, his knuckles lost all color- white from the pressure applied by his anxious tension. However, upon closer inspection, tiny, almost faded marks could be seen running the length of his entire arm. His head leaned back slightly, and with a small sigh, he continued his recollections.

Her back must have hit the concrete wall at some point, because she had scratched so hard into his arms that he knew the marks would be there for weeks, but he cared not. He wanted her, no, he needed her, it was a core desire, necessary to the continuation of his very existence. The sound of her moans, so gentle and light in vivid contrast to her commanding behavior, made him go absolutely wild in demeanor. He had kissed her everywhere and everywhere accessible that night, perpetually unsatiated, ceaselessly craving her flesh. The way she had felt beneath him, on top of him, around him, was pure ecstasy.

"Fuck." he hissed breathlessly, swiping the towel from about his neck and quickly drying off. He had to stop thinking about her, about what they did...it was intolerable. He should be disgusted with himself, with the very thought of....her. Yet, he was not...in fact, the polar opposite effect had occurred. It would seem that James yearned for Bellatrix more than ever. As he sauntered into the room, he noticed the dainty frame of a house elf sitting on the edge of his four post bed. Curiously, he stepped forward, and the elf squealed, dropping the letter into his hands roughly and apparating away. There was no label on the outside, only smooth, vanilla parchment. A smile tugged playfully at the edges of his lips, it would seem that Bellatrix herself requested, or rather demanded, his presence.

Slipping into a pair of slim cut trousers and expensive black loafers, James delegated about the nature of this call. Surely, it wasn't Bellatrix begging for the sexual satisfaction that she now knew only he could give her? After all, Bellatrix wasn't much one for begging. No, it was probably to tell him off and slander his name by claiming he had taken advantage of her. Or at the very least, a pact of secrecy towards their previous actions. James, however, had plans that quite conflicted with those circumstances. Continuing to smile lightly, he slid on a hooded, grey sweater and his favorite leather jacket.

It hadn't taken him long to navigate about the corridors and make it to the astronomy tower, the Marauders Map now tucked gently in the pocket of his worn coat. Closing the door to the observatory softly behind him, James tucked his hands in his pockets and glanced around for a brief moment. There was Bellatrix, standing with the wind causing the tendrils of her hair to play lightly around her face. She was strikingly beautiful, really, made all the more awe-inspiring by the fact that most trembled in her presence. James smirked at her predictable reaction, how very Bellatrix. "Now, now, darling, let us not be hasty- it would seem I was freshening up when your courier found me." He retorted, grazing dangerously closer to her position. "Miss me, love?" he beckoned, awaiting a vicious response.

BELLATRIX PROSERPINA BLACK

?Quinn?

Slytherin

Seventh Year

Application	Plotter
Posts: 273	Relationship

dance with the devil || [JAMES] Oct 23, 2013 14:10:56 GMT -8

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Post by BELLATRIX PROSERPINA BLACK on Oct 23, 2013 14:10:56 GMT -8

She could feel the anger brewing up inside her veins even before he said anything. It was the simplicity of being around him that caused such a physical reaction within her. James Potter. She could feel his name infecting her thoughts again and her breath caught in her throat. Scorching fire seemed to billow deep within her, threatening to overflow. But if it was sheer anger or the leftover resonance of passion, Bellatrix would never know. There were fleeting feelings about him that came and went, causing her internal turmoil every moment that she spent in his presence.

She let her eyes have a moment of appraisal, carefully looking him up and down, her chin still raised to the boy. Bellatrix raised her eyebrows at him, somehow forgetting how well-off his parents were in the pureblood circles. It was astonishing how the simple placement of Potter in Gryffindor had completely alienated him from the rest of their kind. A small twinkle could be seen in her eye, but in a flash, it was gone. Realization hit her dead in the chest and the viperous vixen felt a malicious smirk beginning to find its way back onto her lips, ”Freshening up? Funny.” She cooed back at him, narrowing her gaze as she wafted the air with her free hand, ”You still smell like a blood traitor to me.” She was fighting it, with every cell in her being, she was fighting against the strange feelings that she was having.

He moved closer and in response, Bellatrix took a step to her left. Another step toward her, yet another step that she took around him. If they kept at it, it wouldn’t be long until they were practically circling one another in the small observatory. Her fingers reached into the pocket of her sweater and quickly drew her wand, holding it down so that it would be ready for a moment’s notice. There was no predicating what the un-hinged Gryffindor had up his sleeve this time and - although she had been the one to call him here tonight - she knew that she was better safe than sorry.

”I missed you more than the desert misses the rain, you twat,” Her sarcasm had been laid on thick, perhaps a bit too thick, ”Do not, for one second, think that this is going to end up a deranged fit like in Italy,” She hissed through her teeth. Her green eyes were watching his every move carefully. A moment passed and Bells found her eyes carefully trained on the way his fingers twitched ever so slightly, recalling the way that they felt pressed against her own body. The way they seemed to travel so expertly down every curve in her body as if he had been expertly conditioned on how to please her. Her own body revolted against her, aching for his touch for the second time in her life. Bells felt a shiver again run up her spine as she tore her eyes away from those hands, those fingers.

‘Level head,’ She reminded herself for the third time that evening. It was excruciatingly imperative that she say what she needed to say before one of them lost their cool, ”You are never to tell anyone what happened that night, Potter.” She growled, willing her wand to move positions so that it was now pointed directly at James’ neck.