Bite Marks are Love Notes Written in Flesh

He could hear the muffled sounds of movement from behind the door; the scrapping in her chair legs on the floor, the clicking of her heels. He continued gyrating against the door even after she shouted at him through it. It wasn’t until she pulled open the door that he stopped. He took up much of the door frame, his body having been pressed right up against the door before it had been opened meant that he was now incredibly close to her and despite the heels she wore he still towered over her. He looked down at her, his features seeming to grow darker as his body blocked out the light coming from behind him and he head turned down to look at her creating shadows on his face from the light within the room. He was silent for a moment, leering threateningly at her and taking in the enjoyable sight. She must have not had time to change after work, or perhaps she was planning her own surprise for him, because very rarely did he have the pleasure of Dorcas in any kind of a skirt. So often she wore the world’s tightest trousers that, while making her arse look fucking amazing and causing his own trousers to tighten, were nearly impossible to get off her with any speed. He’d taken to using a severing charm on the pairs he knew weren’t her absolute favorite, often slicing her thighs in the process and drawing a trickle of blood that excited him even more. He was certain she wore such tight trousers with the express purpose of doing his head in and it worked, so today’s dress came as something of a surprise.

Coming even closer to her, he bent his head down to meet her, pulling her from behind the door into his well-muscled chest. One hand on her bum, pulling the skirt of her dress up inch by inch until his hand grasped the thick meat of her arse, his other hand was at the back of her head giving her ice blonde locks a gentle tug to expose her neck to him. “Fuck work,” he said as he jerked her head backwards. “Actually, fuck me.” Since acquiescing to staying at his place now and again, their visits to her tiny little cottage had become few and far between, and in that time Roddy had christened nearly every room in the large manor with Dorcas but he had yet to shag her in her office. Well, they had fooled around in here plenty of times when this had just been another guestroom, too hungry for each other to wait until they were in his quarters or somewhere else familiar yet out of sight should Aurora wander by, but since he’d had the room redesigned for her work, they had yet to have any fun in here. It had become a dull room and before Roddy swept Dorcas away for a long weekend abroad he was determined to soil this office. Pushing his way further into the room, Rodolphus hoisted Dorcas up, pinning her between the wall and himself as his hand disappeared beneath her dress.

His expression darkened excitedly as she gave in to him and he let out a little growl as he kicked the door shut and flung Dorcas onto her desk, nearly toppling a lamp. It was a large room, with marble floors and high ceilings which did little to muffle their sounds as Roddy shed his trousers and splayed Dorcas out on top of her conspicuously clean desktop. “You’re so fucking paranoid,” he said with a dark chuckle as he pulled her knickers off and threw them over his shoulder. “Did you tidy up just so I could throw you around?” She knew what she was opening the door to, so any actions prior to that were with good suspicion that he’d be in this very position (or one similarly pleasing) only minutes after she opened the door. His large hand pinned her to the desk by her neck, his free hand helping himself inside of her before tearing at the collar of her dress. She was far too covered for his liking and by now Dorcas knew better than to wear anything around him that she wasn’t willing to sacrifice to his desires. She also knew he would replace anything she made a big enough fuss over after the fact.

Without worry that anyone of significance would see them, having sent his daughter away for the weekend ahead of his plans for a mini holiday, Rodolphus pressed a fully nude Dorcas against the glass of the large windows that looked out from her office over the grounds two stories below. His lip curled with a delighted almost-sneer as he watched the expression in her eyes, he savored his last few moments with her before release finally came.

Breathing heavily, he shuffled backward a few steps, dropping Dorcas to her feet to stand of her own volition, if she could manage. There were brilliant red marks covering her skin which, in time, would turn to a lovely purple. He leaned against her desk, the opposite side of which they had started from, his bare ass against the glass table top. “You’ll want to cover that one before we leave,” he said of the hand print forming slowly around her left wrist just below her Dark Mark. “Of course, whenever we’re alone…” he reached the short distance to where she stood and took hold of her hand, dragging her towards him as if she was nothing more than a toy on a string. He raised her arm up so that the reddening skin brushed against his lips, and he nipped playfully at her wrist. Seeing the marks on her skin was like a road map of their adventures together, a fun little trail that faded over a short period of time and needed to be retraced over and over again. Some of their scars were more permanent than others but aside from discoloration and a few bite marks she was relatively unmarred by his own hand. Likewise, he had a few lasting reminders of their fun together but for the most part the only blemish on his well-muscled body was a thick mass of chest hair and a muted scar in which the word ‘par’ had been branded into him.

She pulled away from his grip and he released her wrist, having bruised her enough for the moment. Rodolphus watched happily as she strutted around the desk in nothing and then walked away from him. Her ass on perfect display as she claimed to have plans. He knew of her plans, they were the same as every year for as long as he could remember, though truthfully he didn’t know the exact details of these earlier days. Within a few days she would be sulking in sweats that she’d not washed for at least two days, irritable and eating her feelings in a dark room, waiting for him to bring over a pizza or something else overly greasy so she could curl into him and not talk for another day. It was such a waste of a perfectly good body to not be violated in the most intimate of ways but he’d dealt with it, year after year. It was time for a change.

He kept his eyes on her as he picked his trousers up off the floor and stepped into them, watching her dress in something god-awful and loose. “Yes, your plans,” he remarked as if he’d forgotten, though he’d done no such thing. He found his button down and swung it around his back, pulling his arms into the sleeves then adjusting the shoulders and lining up the buttons and buttonholes. “I actually had other plans in mind.” Without anymore discussion, Rodolphus grabbed his shoes as crossed the room and then took hold of Dorcas, grey sweats and all, and the couple turned and disapparated from the room.

Their belongings had been sent ahead and Ader had ensured that their villa was ready for them. When they appeared again, they were no longer in Lestrange Chateau. They weren’t even in England. Rodolphus had planned for a long weekend in the Italian alps, at a luxurious resort where his family owned stock. There they could ski or find a hot spring to screw in, and if she still felt like getting pizza and just sitting in silence for some unknown reason then it would be real Italian pizza and they could sit under the stars, wrapped in a heated blanket overlooking the snowy mountains from their private patio.

Once upon a time, Dorcas would have fought against him, argued, and demanded to be returned home whenever he kidnapped her and took her wherever he decided. The first time he’d done so, she sulked for several hours and watched as Rodolphus went swimming in ocean water to crystal clear you could see 50 feet below as if it were two. Eventually she gave in and enjoyed herself and over time she put up less of a fight at the beginning of their travels until eventually she just accepted her fate. This couldn’t even really be called kidnapping any longer, more a surprise spontaneous holiday, but they both preferred to think of it as something against her will. It made it easier to separate any feelings they might have felt for each other from the holiday they were enjoying. Arrived in Italy, Dorcas didn’t argue or yell or throw a tantrum of any sort, she simply demanded pizza, just as he assumed she would. “All you can eat, and whenever you want it. Just like my cock.” Dorcas skipped off to have a look around and ordered Roddy to fix the thermostat. He did so with a flick of his wand and the most smug expression he could muster, knowing she was already enjoying herself.

Dorcas headed in the direction of the bedrooms – there were seven in total and Rodolphus had made plans to soil each and every one of them, though their luggage had been set up in one of the larger bedrooms with a wall of windows that looked out over the snowy mountains and a door leading to one of many enchanted balconies where snow gathered despite being warm enough to sit out comfortably next to a firepit. Rodolphus stayed in the lounge, turning in the opposite direction and making his way predictably to the bar where he inspected what they had on offer and began fixing himself and Dorcas a drink.

Holidaying with Dorcas had taken some trial and error when they were younger. His first venture into kidnapping the little wench was to a private island his parents owned complete with a lavish, fully staffed holiday home and wild tropical jungle to explore, and while they’d had plenty of fun in the end, Dorcas was not at all pleased with the situation. The sand, he discovered after a few more outings, was apparently problematic for the then-brunette and while he claimed she would just have to deal with it, Rodolphus had decided he was up to the challenge of fucking her in some foreign location she couldn’t possibly complain about. A tall order, to be sure. Far taller than Dorcas herself, but he liked a little challenge and most importantly he liked Dorcas’ cunt. There was a reason she’d been his mistress for more than a decade, much to the chagrin of his now deceased ex-wife.

Bella had been treated to the same lavish lifestyle Rodolphus now offered Dorcas, but she took to it better than her tiny counterpart. Bellatrix came from money and a respectable, although incestuous, family line. She was not as easily marveled by a trip to the states or a week in the jungles of South America. Dorcas played the part of outraged kidnapping victim and indignant witch, but he could see the look of awe she tried to hide beneath spitfire and loathing. Bellatrix was different. They’d been friends once upon a time, and as shocking as it was to admit now, Rodolphus had actually been eager at one time to take Bella as his bride. They were a perfect pair in school but her priorities laid elsewhere and she eventually disregarded her duties as a wife and mother altogether. They could have had many more years of hidden unhappiness between them, had Bella’s delusions not turned her so adamantly against their daughter. For all the strife he had felt upon her birth, Rodolphus loved his daughter completely and would allow no one, not even his own wife, to threaten her safety. It was ironic how the events had all unfolded. Bellatrix, so despising of her own offspring and jealous of her husband’s mistress, only to be killed by the very woman she hated and replaced almost entirely by her as well. Aurora thought of Dorcas as a playmate, but there were motherly feelings beginning to grow. Dorcas had all but sold her teeny cottage, living as a wealthy pureblooded witch despite whatever she claimed to herself or others. If there was anyone less worthy of Rodolphus’ attention it was certainly Dorcas and yet wheels were in motion and he had little intention of pulling the brakes.

Dorcas announced her return to the main room with a query and Rodolphus looked up from his drink, his caramel eyes meeting her green ones. Handing her a glass, he answered her question. “Breuil-Cervinia,” he replied, his Italian accent near perfect. “Italy,” he added, sensing she didn’t grasp the entirety of what he was saying. His eyes wandered down over her figure, almost entirely obscured by an oversized jumper but still hinting at her feminine curves. The corners of his lips curled downward as his eyes rested on her trousers. Tight enough to make her perfect arse look impossibly delicious but also tight enough to do his bloody head in when he tried to get her out of them later. Ader was taking a shine to Dorcas, clearly wanting her to be comfortable and happy, but it wouldn’t do to have the pair of them teaming up to make life harder on Rod. “Did you paint those on?” he asked of her trousers, taking a sip of his drink then tilting his head to get a look at her bum.

If Dorcas had put in even a modicum of effort in speaking the foreign name, Rodolphus would have assisted her, but she clearly wasn’t trying hard and gave no shits about whether or not she sounded like a backwater hillbilly or not. Rodolphus was fluent in a handful of languages, as were all the Lestranges, which not only enabled the family to make important social connections in any country (as well as determine who might be foolish enough to talk shit about them to their face thinking they couldn’t speak the foreign tongue) but also to establish business relationships around the globe. Rodolphus had known from a young age that he was set to inherit the family company one day, a multinational conglomerate that secured the family their place as wealthiest wizards in the UK, and that required business skills in languages other than just English. He’d been thrown in straight after graduating from Hogwarts, not unexpected in the slightest but without the proper skill set to truly function in the position he’d been given. Nepotism was not unheard of in the industry, but unlike other corporate families, Adolph expected his son to actually learn the role he was given and to do the job well, not just passable. In the years since, Rod has more than proven himself as a successful businesswizard, something his parents put down to good genes and proper parenting – all starting with his pre-Hogwarts education. Ceres, eternally the proud mother, continues to brag about her son’s fluency in foreign languages as just one of the skills that makes her Miracle Child that much more spectacular. Anytime she could circumvent the topic of Rodolphus’ lack of a proper heir, she could pull that particular gem out of her back pocket.

Presented with the challenge to discover for himself whether her trousers were painted on, Rodolphus waggled his thick brow at her as he stepped forward, closing the small distance between them. Large hands caressed her backside, giving her bum a firm squeeze and letting out a soft growl. “Figured I’d fuck you on the terrace, do a little skiing, some more shagging, get a pizza, shag a bit more, and then if you’re tired I’ll just wank off over your tits while you rest.” He slapped her arse and gave her a playful look, not quite ready for another roll in the sheets but always up for a bit of teasing. “You can set the agenda for tomorrow, but ideally you’ll be naked most of the day.” They certainly weren’t limited on options for entertainment here, and so long as he could avoid the depressive, unwashed state she tended to get herself into every year at this time, Rodolphus would consider this holiday a success. A bell chimed and signaled the arrival of the first distraction he had planned. Ader answered the door at the front of the lodge and escorted two beautiful women into the home, showing them each to two nearby rooms to set up. Rodolphus turned his head to the sound of the women preparing down the hall, his hand still caressing Dorcas’ arse affectionately. “I suppose now is as good a time as any to see how long it takes to get these off you.” He nipped at her neck before straightening himself up and taking another mouthful of his drink, readying himself for the brunette who was waiting for him in the other room.

***

An hour later, Rodolphus emerged with a satisfied smile on his face. Every muscle in his body had been massaged skillfully by the masseuse and it had taken barely more than a suggestive smirk to get a little something extra out of the woman. It wasn’t technically prostitution if the services he paid her for were the ones she had came here to deliver – everything under the sheet was simply a bonus and not good enough that Roddy would have forgotten about the witch he had come here with. He left the masseuse to clean up and excuse herself from the house as Rodolphus stepped out onto the snow-covered terrace to wait for Dorcas’ massage to finish. Despite the snow that had gathered on the railing, the terrace was warm and inviting thanks to an enchantment that worked much like a muggle thermostat without all the hassle. The view of the mountain was gorgeous and Rodolphus took in the beauty as he made plans in his head.