Continues to fuck her cunt

The dark Lord's rhythm was a cruel, steady beat, a piston of cold fury that claimed her from the inside out. Each thrust was a punctuation mark in a sentence of possession. He wasn't seeking pleasure, not in the way a mortal man might. He was imprinting himself, erasing the last traces of another's touch, another's influence. The spell made her channel a prison, each withdrawal a hollow ache, each entry a fullness that bordered on pain, a constant, overwhelming reminder of who now owned her flesh.

Her moans were torn from her throat, a mix of genuine sensation and the performative ecstasy she knew he craved. "More... my Lord... deeper... I am yours... only yours..."

He leaned down, his lipless mouth brushing against her ear, his breath a foul, arctic wind. "Say his name, Harry."

Her breath hitched. His use of that name was a shock, a deliberate plunge back into the past he claimed to be erasing.

"Say his name as I take you," he commanded, his voice a low, dangerous hiss. "The name of the man you sacrificed. Let me hear it on your lips as I fill you with my future."

Tears, hot and shameful, pricked at the corners of her eyes. "Snape..." she whimpered, the word a ragged sob. "Severus..."

"Good," Voldemort hissed, a note of triumphant satisfaction in his tone. "Very good." He increased his pace, the force of his movements making her entire body tremble within its magical prison. "He died for nothing. He thought he was saving a hero. Instead, he simply cleared the way to the end of Dumbledore. His last memory was of my curse, knowing the man he failed to protect was now my most devoted whore."

Rose clenched her jaw, the conflicting storm of degradation, terror, and a dark, twisted spark of arousal overwhelming her senses. She pictured Snape's face as he told her the truth, the raw pain in his eyes. Now that face was a memory, a ghost. Snape gone to join his old ex.

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