Chapter Text
‘Potter… It’s Malfoy. Do you still want this?’
It started like that. Malfoy’s breath on his ear, his voice low, hot against his skin. Harry shivered, though he could feel the heat from Malfoy’s body just behind him, too close, but not touching him. Even if he could. For the rest of the night, he could do whatever the hell he wanted with Harry.
They were inside the dungeon of his favorite Muggle BDSM club - Pain, the name lacked in creativity, but the place was fucking perfect. Harry was tightly bound to a St. Andrew’s Cross, his wrists and ankles spread and tied to the cross. He was completely naked except for a black blindfold. Standing behind him, barely an inch from his neck, was Draco Malfoy.
Harry realised he was supposed to say something, to answer Malfoy, but he couldn’t be reminded of a single word. He was too intensely aware of Malfoy’s body behind him, probably impeccably dressed (he imagined), of his voice, low, whispered on his ear, of his breath with a hint of whiskey in it, of his scent, something like polished wood, musk and something else he couldn’t identify, but which made him dizzy. He was vaguely aware that there were other people in the room, moans and cries reaching his years, the cackle of a flogger cutting through the heavy air. These sounds were generally soothing for him, driving him under, but now he was only dimly aware of them because Malfoy was there.
As usual, he had come here with Josh. Harry didn’t normally have any problems with whomever Josh handed him to. Quite the contrary. Inside the club, Josh was in charge of him, he took care of Harry’s pain and pleasure.
Josh knew Harry loved to be handed over to other men - carefully picked by Josh, according to their mutual taste. He went willingly, Josh watched the whole thing and made sure no boundaries were crossed. He knew all of Harry’s hard limits and set them beforehand with the other men. Then Josh watched. He loved to watch Harry being spanked, flogged and fucked. By the end of the night he always brought Harry home and fucked him on his bed, slow and hard. Harry was pretty happy with how everything worked with them. He wasn’t in love with Josh, nor was Josh with him and that was what made it so simple and wonderful, really. They had a D/s relationship, they had sex sometimes, and that was it. Their arrangement had been going on for over a year and it provided the much needed release Harry wanted. Inside the club he wasn’t famous Harry Potter, or an Auror, he was just Josh’s plaything, his fucktoy. And whomever’s Josh chose to spank and fuck him any given night.
Tonight had been the same.
Josh had been spanking him in the center of the room. Harry had been bent over Josh’s lap, arse up for everyone to watch. Harry loved the feel of Josh’s hand, sharp and firm on his arse, the sounds coming from other people around them, the steps on the floor made by polished shoes and boots. He knew they were being watched.
Josh always took that moment to check their surroundings, noticing which men were enjoying their show the most and which he thought he and Harry would like. Harry had been feeling the men’s eyes on him, even with the blindfold on, buzzing on the skin of his exposed arse. Josh kept spanking him, just the exact amount of pain Harry craved for the beginning of the night, his body starting to warm up. Someone was watching him so intensely he felt himself harden from it. Josh noticed it too. He gave an appreciative hum and moved Harry, placing him on all fours on the floor. The air felt electrified. The man was really enjoying the display. Harry raised his arse in the air, wanting to give him the better angle. He felt magic prickling around him. So… this man was a wizard, and fuck fuck fuck, he loved it, that brand of magic on him, on his exposed, burning skin. It turned him fucking on.
‘You’re gonna love this one, Harry… he’s really your type’
Oh god. Josh knew Harry had a thing for tall, demanding men, with lean features and hard looks. Usually with blond hair, long fingers that wrapped amazingly around his cock and a sharp, dirty, tongue. The type of man that was used to have what he wanted, when he wanted it. This one was probably exactly like that.
Harry waited for the negotiations. On his knees, cock already hard, hands placed behind his back, the way Josh appreciated. He wasn’t allowed to listen in to the conversation, but he knew what Josh was doing. He gave out the rules to use Harry. Aside from Harry’s hard limits, there weren’t many. Josh only had two: he was the one to decide if and when Harry was allowed to come and he was the one to take Harry home and fuck him last. He’d never changed these rules.
Harry loved to wait there while the men discussed him. The idea of men appraising him, deciding what they wanted to do to him, while he had minimum say in it, made him feel completely free.
This time the negotiation seemed to take longer. He became aware of the other man moving closer to him, and speaking to Josh in a low tone. He felt increasingly curious, wondering what the man might be asking for, feeling his eyes on him through the black blindfold. He couldn’t get any of the words, though. Only his scent. It was maddening, even from a distance. It made Harry’s mouth water.
Josh placed a hand on his chin and lifted it up for the other man’s inspection. Josh’s finger brushed over his lower lip and Harry’s tongue darted out to lick it. He liked other men to see how good he was to his Dom. How obedient. How willing to please. He sucked on Josh’s finger slowly, taking it into his mouth. He was so aware of the man’s eyes on him, his cock was throbbing. Josh let out a low laugh. The other man was silent. There was something familiar about his particular trace of magic, but Harry couldn’t quite place it.
He kneeled there for a long time, mouth open - when Josh opened his mouth he wanted it like that until he ordered it closed - waiting, waiting… Josh’s hand tugged on his hair. He pushed Harry to his feet. He went instantly, holding himself up, arms behind his back, his arse burning from the earlier spanking, the pain on his scalp spreading downwards. Josh knew he loved to be dragged around, manhandled. Josh kissed him hard on the mouth.
‘Now close that pretty mouth of yours. You can open it again when he orders you to.’
Harry obeyed, lowering his head. This was their signal. Josh was handing him to this stranger. Except… he was no stranger.
Malfoy was waiting for an answer. It hit him just then that Malfoy could have done whatever he wanted with him - bound and blindfolded as he was - and never reveal his name. Josh had authorized it, Harry was Malfoy’s for the night. But still, he had revealed his identity. Harry could not explain why, but that turned him on even more.
‘Yes,’ he said.
He felt Malfoy shifting behind him, slowly, deliberately.
‘Are you perfectly sure?’ Malfoy said, words huffing over Harry’s ear. ‘They’re all waiting to see if they still have a chance. Josh can get you anyone else for tonight,’ Malfoy sounded serious, business-like, but his voice had a certain electricity to it and it made Harry’s hairs on his neck stand on end. ‘Are you sure you want me?’
That voice… that voice was doing something to him. It was cold, demanding with a hint of care underneath. Harry felt so vulnerable, tied and naked in front of this man he had hated once, a man he’d known for years. Since the end of the War, they had been nothing but civil, passing each other several times a day in the halls at the Ministry, and talking politely. Harry knew Malfoy was a changed man. At least, he knew enough to be sure Malfoy wouldn’t go to the press with this.
Harry felt so hard, his cock was hurting against the leather of the cross. He wanted to forget everything, that was why he came here every week, why he was into this pain and pleasure game. And Malfoy… Malfoy was exactly the type of man he had a weakness for. Inside the club, that was all that mattered. Josh wanted to watch them. Together. Josh wanted Malfoy to break Harry. And then fuck him, probably. It would please Josh to no end.
‘Don’t… don’t you want me? I felt you looking… Josh handed me to you…’
Harry felt Malfoy’s body tensing up, merely inches from his own. The burning sensation built up around him and there was sweat trickling down his back.
‘Potter… I asked you a question. Answer me.’
Oh fuck. That voice. That was a Dom’s voice through and through. He felt faint. There was something strict and pulsing underneath that calm. It made Harry want to draw it all out. He felt the first hint of the curling addiction building up inside him.
‘Yes.’
‘Yes, what?’
Oh god.
‘Yes, Malfoy, I want to be yours for tonight.’
Malfoy chuckled. It was deep and drawn out. Harry noticed a hint of arousal in it. His cock gave a jolt. He wanted to know if Malfoy was as hard as he was, but he dared not buck back against him, to make their bodies touch. He felt pinned in place without Malfoy needing to say or do anything.
‘You’re gonna have to be more specific. What do you want from me... Harry ?’
Fuck. He was lost. The whole club was gone and they were alone. Just like that, Malfoy had driven him under. Harry was an experienced sub, he’d been with lots of different Doms. But those Doms didn’t ask him so bluntly what he wanted. They surely didn’t call him Harry like that. They called him many things. But his name on Malfoy’s lips was like a drug. It felt all kinds of wrong and right.
‘I want you to hurt me… spank me… do whatever you want with me,’ he whispered.
There was a heartbeat of silence. Malfoy’s breathing grazed his ear.
‘Is that it?’
There was a wire linking his body to Malfoy’s words. That was what it felt like, at least, when that question nearly had him shaking.
‘No…’ Harry took a deep breath, allowing himself to fall down into it. It was like allowing gravity. It felt just right, unavoidable. Malfoy was waiting, his scent so overwhelming Harry wanted to drown in it.
‘I want you… Want you to fuck me. Use me. When Josh hands me over I want to be a hole…’ his throat was dry.
He fought to speak clearly, for his Dom - Malfoy, Malfoy was his Dom for this night - to ear.
‘Your hole, Malfoy. I want you to use me however you see fit,’ Harry swallowed. ‘Want to please you.’
He heard Malfoy’s sharp intake of breath. Or he imagined it, because he was so aroused he couldn’t think.
‘Harry…’ Malfoy was smiling. Harry was sure of this for he felt it in his tone, low, ghosting over his neck. He was smirking, in that poshy way of his. Once that had made hate stir inside Harry. Now, something else entirely was stirring there.
‘You’re going to be such a good boy for me, aren’t you?’
Oh fuck. He nodded fervently. The idea of pleasing Malfoy with his body was a secret dirty fantasy coming to life. He felt Malfoy’s breath on his cheek. It was fresh and minty and Harry’s mouth watered. He imagined how it would be to have that taste on his lips. On his tongue.
‘Good boys always answer me . With words,’ Malfoy’s hand gripped hard at his hair, yanking his head back.
Harry cried out, pain shooting through him in a wonderful wave.
‘The only exception is when their mouth is so busy they can’t.’
Harry felt two long fingers breaching his mouth and he bucked back, his arse brushing against the hard line of Malfoy’s trousers. His lips parted pliantly to take Malfoy’s fingers in, deep. He was surprised to hear his own moan.
‘Lick.’
His tongue swirled around Malfoy’s fingers. He thought of Malfoy’s cock. How it would feel on his mouth, the weight of it on his tongue, fucking him so deep he would happily gag on it. He wanted it down his throat, like those fingers. His scalp was hurting, Malfoy’s other hand gripping his hair so tightly and Harry’s body was on fucking fire. A low pleading sound came out of his mouth and Malfoy’s fingers were suddenly gone, as was his hand on Harry’s hair.
‘I’m sorry, Malfoy,’ his voice was hoarse. He sounded like he’d been fucked already. ‘Yes, I want to be so good for you. Use me, please,’ his dampened forehead dropped against the leather, as he tried to calm down his breathing.
‘I’m going to hurt you so badly, you won’t be able to sit down properly for a month,’ Malfoy said. ‘And then I’m going to make you feel so good. You have no idea.’
Those words worked like soft silk wrapping around his cock. Malfoy didn’t even need to go anywhere near it to make him lose it.
‘Do you remember your safeword?’
‘Yes. Red .’
‘Good boy,’ Malfoy said and Harry’s knees felt weak.
Then Josh was there, hard body against Harry’s back, his unmistakable scent, his beard brushing against his neck, his hands tightening over his arse. Negotiation and talking and getting to know were over. Harry was going to be left in Malfoy’s hands.
‘Harry… You both look so hot. I’m going to enjoy this so much,’ he felt the swell of Josh’s cock against his arse. His lips brushed over Harry’s cheek in a soft kiss. ‘Also… I let him take charge of your orgasm. You’ll come at his command,’ Josh added as an afterthought.
And then he was gone.
Harry could not breathe. Josh was always the one to decide if and when Harry came. He’d broken that rule, but why? Did Malfoy ask for it? Was it Josh’s idea? Harry was terrified. Exhilarated. Malfoy was in charge of his orgasm. Malfoy would have the final word. He was completely under Malfoy’s will and command. And that idea was enough to drive him further down the spiral. The following hours of his life would be as Draco Malfoy would see fit. He felt on fire, as if he’d been already spanked raw. But Malfoy had barely even touched him.
And he certainly was going to take his sweet time, Harry thought. Malfoy wasn’t moving, but Harry was sure he was looking at him.
Malfoy’s cool grey eyes. On every fucking inch of his skin. On every part of his body. And all of it - all of him - was Malfoy’s for the taking. Whatever he wanted to touch, to have, to taste, was his.
‘I’m going to break you, Harry.’
He barely had time to bite back a moan. Malfoy’s hands were on him. Long fingers wrapped around his hips, tugging them in place. Malfoy’s nails brushed his skin and dug into it. Hard. The searing pain expanded through Harry, but he did not make a sound. He could take it. He could take it all. Malfoy was going to mark him. His nails were deep enough to do so. Harry was a sucker for pain. And Malfoy was going to give it to him. Bad.
Malfoy’s fingers skimmed up and down his back, light, then up again, his nails digging into Harry’s skin, fast, burning. Cool hands stilled over his shoulder blades. Malfoy gripped harder at his skin, his nails sinking there. Harry’s body arched back into the touch and he swallowed a scream. Malfoy had the most vicious hands. They were soft, but his nails were sharp and they covered Harry’s back in trails of red pain. Malfoy’s nails drove into his skin from the top of his shoulder blades down to his lower back. He felt them going down, over the curve of his arse. All Doms used to say he had the best arse. They went on and on about how tight it was. How fuckable. How they couldn’t wait to stick their cocks in there and pound him to the nearest wall.
But Malfoy was all silent. His firm hands pressed on Harry’s arse cheeks. He parted them, harshly. Objectively . Harry gave a muffled cry. He bucked back against Malfoy’s hands. He wanted Malfoy to feel him up, to know that he could - he could do anything with it. Anything at all.
‘Needy thing,’ said the cold posh voice.
The blow came fast and sharp. Harry did not have the time to take in the change in sensation. He gasped. Malfoy’s hands were lighter than Josh’s, but completely unpredictable, the long fingers trailing over the burning skin of his arse, then kneading, then crashing over his skin. Heat spread over his arse, sweat trickled down his back. Malfoy’s hands fitted over his arse like they were meant to be there, like they belonged... Stupid thought. He was Malfoy’s just for one night.
He smelled the leather first. Then he felt it, cold and thin, against his back. There was silence. The crop hit his arse with sharp precision. The pain took him away from the world. He was brought back by another smack on the same spot, acute on his heated skin. He was used to a quick session of cropping, before the dominant decided on another part of his body to torture. Nothing came for a while, he just felt his skin burning up, his ears straining to know where Malfoy was, his heartbeat loud.
A slick tongue trailed a path between his shoulders blades. Harry barely kept the moan in, his body arching off the leather. Fuck. Inside his mind, Malfoy was wearing the same smirk that used to crawl under his skin and that now seemed to crawl right down to his core, leaving nothing untouched. Harry lifted his arse as best as he could, offering it up for the crop.
‘Eager, are we?’ Malfoy’s voice was low. It made Harry want to fall down on his knees and suck Malfoy’s cock. He was ashamed at the thought. He hadn’t even satisfied his Doms - Josh, sitting comfortably on a sofa nearby, watching them and probably pulling at his hard cock and Malfoy standing right behind him, sadistic smile and crop in hand - he didn’t deserve the gift of cock.
Malfoy’s touch on his skin was light, like a feather, then suddenly so hard, Harry gasped. Malfoy’s hand hit his right arsecheek, sure, hard, decisive. Harry’s body flared up. Malfoy’s hand was replaced by the crop. Harry clenched his teeth and took the pain in. He stopped being aware of anything else, his world narrowing down to Malfoy’s crop on his arse, the leather biting into his skin, fast, slow, then fast again. Every time Malfoy’s crop hit him, his body was sent reeling against the cross and his cock pressed against it. He’d never been so hard in his life, still he made no sound.
‘You’re holding back,’ Malfoy said, voice demanding, cracking at the edges of the words.
Harry swallowed. The idea of moaning around Malfoy was shameful, it made him feel too vulnerable. He wanted to take everything Malfoy gave him and it was easier to do it if he didn’t make any sounds.
‘I’ll have none of that. I want to hear you.’
Harry bit his lip. He was ashamed of the sounds he was making inside his head. He didn’t know if he could just let it all out, not before Malfoy.
‘Moan for me, Harry,’ Malfoy whispered, lips over his throat.
There was no way to keep the sound inside. It was out: a deep needy moan. Malfoy’s hands wrapped around his hip bones. Because they could. Because Harry was his. He leaned back, the touch of Malfoy’s clothes against the sensitive skin of his arse making him float.
‘You like this, don’t you?’
There was something incredibly arousing in knowing he was completely naked, bound and blinded and Malfoy was perfectly dressed, he had a crop and he called all the shots for the night.
‘Yes, Malfoy,’ it came out more like a moan.
Malfoy’s hands pressed harder into his hips and his fingers roamed freely over Harry’s body, anywhere they wanted to go. They skimmed over the hairs on Harry’s thighs and then came too close to his cock. Harry’s eyes shot open only to be faced with the darkness inside the blindfold.
‘Fuck.’
Malfoy chuckled, his fingers light, treading over his hairs, then he twisted them and pain crashed over Harry. He was flushed against Malfoy and it was too good, the feel of Malfoy’s lean hard body behind him, of his cruel hands over him, pulling his hairs, twisting them, dragging his nails over his skin, doing whatever the hell they pleased… not going for his cock.
‘Do you feel this?’ Malfoy asked, his tone soft.
Harry let out a pitiful moan. Something hard was pressing against Harry’s arse.
‘Yes. You’re hard,’ he said, his voice shaking. ‘Oh god… please.’
‘Do you know who did this?’
‘No, Malfoy,’ he shook his head, lost in the feeling of Malfoy around him, hands restless over his thighs, skimming, twisting. He did not deem himself worthy of that cock, hard, long, pressing through Malfoy’s perfectly tailored trousers, right against his arse.
‘You did this,’ Malfoy said, voice as sharp as his hips snapping forward. ‘You… with that pretty arse of yours.’
Of course he’d heard it before from other Doms, but it was nothing like it. The word pretty on Malfoy’s lips set his body on fire. He gasped, his body shaking. Malfoy’s fingers wrapped suddenly around his cock. Harry cried out.
‘I want to hear you lose it…’
The fingers stilled over the head of his cock, soft. Harry wanted to snap his hips forward, to have his cock fuck Malfoy’s tight grip.
‘I want to make you lose all that composure you pretend to have when you’re playing Auror. That control they tried to drill into you. In here, you don’t need any of it. Moan for me.’
Malfoy was reaching even deeper inside him, touching secret thoughts he had pressed down. Harry wanted to relinquish all control, that was why he loved this, submitting to men. But this was Malfoy . He didn’t want to give him all that. He wanted to refuse, to have a last threshold where Malfoy could not go, since he already had him like this.
‘I thought you wanted to please me,’ Malfoy said, warm, expectant.
Oh. He did. He wanted Malfoy crazy with want for him. And he fucking wanted those fingers to move over his cock. He would give anything for a few seconds of that hand wanking him. It would be the perfect torture. A sweet resounding moan came out of his mouth at the thought.
‘Beautiful. But you can do better than that, Harry. I’ve had to deal with you strutting around in your fucking Auror robes for too long, teasing me with just one of your looks.’
His brain was struggling to catch up. Malfoy had noticed him? Or was this just provocation, something he would say to drive Harry to the edge? Why did it matter?
‘I… I don’t strut,’ he said feebly, too aware of Malfoy’s fingers around his cock, their pressure both not enough and just enough to make him desperate for more.
‘Oh but you do. Did you think I wouldn’t notice?’ Malfoy let out a dark, deep laugh. ‘Harry, I spent all my life noticing you .’
It sounded like a confession. Harry shivered and for once it had nothing to do with Malfoy’s hands, or his excruciating proximity.
‘I notice you too,’ he said, his breath leaving him in a rush.
Malfoy’s fingers twisted over the tip of his cock. Harry didn’t care for the whine out of his mouth. If the reward for telling the truth was this, he was ready to spill his heart out.
‘I know,’ Malfoy said. The cocky, self-evolved tone would have made a younger Harry want to punch him. Now… he just wanted more of it. More of Malfoy...
‘I noticed you, noticing me…’ Malfoy went on, his hand moving on Harry’s cock. Stroking him, but so slowly it was downright torture. His fingers smoothed along Harry’s length, silky and soft.
‘You’re always so busy, Harry. Issuing orders all around… No wonder you’re here. You’re tired, aren’t you?’
‘Yes… so tired,’ Harry felt compelled to tell Malfoy everything, every fucking truth.
Malfoy’s hand was wanking him in the most slow, deliberate, delicious way ever, his other hand cupping his bollocks.
‘You hate the pressure of it,’ he said, voice slow and determined, as his hand was. ‘You hate to be bossing everyone around. You hate that they all want something from you,’ that voice was driving him crazy, reaching inside him, taking him apart.
‘I only want one thing. Let go. Do it for me, Harry.’ Malfoy’s fingers tightened around his cock, circling it perfectly and he pumped him once, twice.
Harry did moan then, loud and desperate. The next second, Malfoy’s hands left him. Harry sobbed. The crop went down on his skin again, the leather biting oh so wonderfully down his thighs. Harry lost track of time. His whole being was on overdrive. He wanted more, more pain, more Malfoy. He felt wild with agony and want. God, he wished he could see Malfoy standing there, crop in hand, eyes demanding, the movement of his arm as he hit Harry. The pain was spreading, so that he no longer knew which parts of his body were hurting and which were aroused. Everything was pleasure and pain.
‘Color?’ Malfoy breathed on his ear. His hands came up to Harry’s hips, probably to reassure him, but for Harry that touch meant that he belonged to Malfoy. That was how Malfoy had touched him all night: like Harry was his.
‘Green,’ he said, catching his breath to reply.
Harry let his head fall back on Malfoy’s shoulder. How long had they been at it? He had a high pain threshold. Doms liked that in him. It wasn’t easy to break him, so most of them looked at it like a challenge. He wondered if Malfoy thought him challenging. If he was enjoying this. If he was pleased. Nothing seemed more important than that now.
Malfoy’s lips brushed his cheek, curling into a smile.
‘How are your hands? Do you feel any tingling?’ Malfoy touched his wrists, pulling on the bounds to make sure they weren’t cutting up his circulation. ‘And your ankles? Is everything okay?’
His hand ran over Harry’s hair; it lingered there for some time. Sweet. Harry felt his head spinning. The slightest touch from Malfoy had the power to unhinge him.
‘I’m okay, everything’s fine,’ he said. Josh always tied him up nicely. He knew he would be drained after this, but right now he just wanted more and he had a feeling Malfoy was far from done with him.
‘Squeeze my hand back,’ Malfoy asked and he did. Malfoy checked on his other hand. This carefulness was about to make him break.
‘Good. You’re being such a good boy, Harry.’
He shivered at the praise, feeling thankful for the blindfold. He didn’t know what he’d do if he could see Malfoy - his expression, his eyes, that smile forming on his thin lips. The same lips that were now on his neck. Malfoy kissed Harry there. Just once, a gentle flick of his tongue. It was enough to leave a trail of gooseflesh and a frantic heart.
Malfoy had barely pulled back when Harry felt a stab of pain, precise and acute on his arse. His body jerked and he screamed, pain spreading as realisation hit him. The cane wasn’t something he liked every Dom to use on him. If used badly it could go very wrong, very fast. But he didn’t even had to think on it, because Malfoy was perfect… and vicious. The cane hit his arse again, sharp pain breaking over him, sending him against the leather. He cried out, no longer caring for the sounds he made because Malfoy wanted them, wanted them all out.
‘You’re a sucker for this, aren’t you?’ Malfoy asked, and for the first time Harry heard his voice break, filled with arousal.
With you? Yeah, I am , he thought wildly.
‘Yes, fuck, please,’ he bucked back, exposing his arse as best as he could for the cane. He wanted Malfoy to give it to him. He could feel his skin breaking where the cane hit. There was blood, he felt its liquid warmth. He was diving into the feeling, as Malfoy’s cane hit him, and hit him, and hit him again, marking his arse in long red lashes.
Malfoy stopped, Harry tried to breathe, deep and slow, but a sob came up his throat instead. He felt like crying from too many things at once. Like Malfoy’s hand caressing his arse, soft, accessing the bruises probably. Why did they feel so good? The cane brushed teasingly over his arse cheeks, then between them.
‘Please.’
‘I love the way you beg,’ he drowned in Malfoy’s voice, so low it sounded more like a grunt. ‘You’re being so good to me. You’re my pain whore, aren’t you?’
Oh god, fuck.
‘Yes, yes, yes,’ he was sobbing, going down, deep, with that voice telling him he wasn’t alone in what he was feeling. Malfoy was there, with him, on the other side of this, high up, pushing him down where he belonged and Harry wanted to be there, to be small, unimportant, to give himself up in Malfoy’s hands, to be nothing but a recipient for pain.
He lifted his arse as high as he could, meeting the cane midway, pain ripping him apart until he was all heat and cries. It filled him up, made him reach farther and farther inside him, wanting desperately to be a perfect little slut for Malfoy.
He knew they were being watched, that the club was packed with men enjoying their show, that Josh had probably already wanked himself raw once and would do it again, his legs spread, his cock hard and leaking, as he watched them. But there was no else for Harry now, he was alone with Draco Malfoy, his world narrowing down to the tip of the cane, the penetrating pain tearing everything down and Malfoy handling him like he was his. His to take. His to hurt. His to fuck.
Malfoy’s hands brushed over his overheated skin, bliss, bliss, he loved those hands, oh god, those fingers trailing down his back, soothing him, going down the curve of his arse and he wanted more, he wanted those fingers on his crease, touching his hole, inside him.
He sobbed when Malfoy removed them, but then he felt Malfoy’s breath on his skin. He let out a cry when he realised Malfoy had dropped to his knees behind him. Malfoy’s tongue was on his feverish skin, licking over his arse. Then teeth sank on the flesh. His arse was so sensitive that the pain was intense and still he pushed into Malfoy’s mouth, feeling his tongue lash over his skin, wetness and heat spreading all over. His arms shook on the restraints as Malfoy bit into his skin, hands coming up to Harry’s thighs, soothing him as his mouth viciously robbed Harry of any thought. Harry couldn’t fight it anymore, he was screaming, as Malfoy’s mouth alternated between licking, kissing, biting so fast that he couldn’t keep up with it. He was about to lose it. Malfoy’s mouth found his crease, licked a path down towards Harry’s bollocks and the renting yell that went through him made his ears ring. A bright light flashed in front of his eyes.
‘Please, Malfoy.’
He had no clue what he was even begging for, but Malfoy’s tongue gave it to him. A cleaning spell tickled his hole, wandless magic, made discreetly, oh fuck, he was even harder now, Malfoy was really his type. The way he controlled a crop, a cane, a wand and blunt magic, and the way he handled Harry, the things he said, just right, just perfect, everything about him was a walking wet dream. Malfoy’s hands parted his arse cheeks and Harry’s hole clenched and unclenched under his stare.
‘I wish you could see what I’m seeing Harry… you’re a sight, spread like this for me,’ Malfoy said, his words hitching on Harry’s crease, making him insane. He’d never been this desperate to be fucked by anyone.
‘Malfoy…’
‘You’re fucking beautiful… Your arse is begging me for it, isn’t it?’, Malfoy’s hands spread on his arse cheeks, kneading, appreciating what they were touching. Harry felt himself blush and pushed back against those hands.
‘I’m going to eat you out. I don’t need to tell you you’re not allowed to come, do I?’
He shook his head frantically, unable to speak.
‘What was that?’ Malfoy pinched Harry’s arse, sending sparks of pain rippling through his skin.
‘No, Malfoy. I won’t come. I’ll do everything you say.’
He hoped. One thing he was sure of: he could come with just a word from the man behind him.
‘You’re such a beautiful slut for me, Harry.’
And then Malfoy was kissing his hole, his tongue licking over the rim of his arse, his hands careful on his skin. Harry thought he was dying. Malfoy’s tongue lapped over his hole, warm. Harry felt him press there, sinking into his arse slowly. He pressed back, wanting more of it, not believing he had Malfoy’s face buried in his arse.
Malfoy sighed, content.
‘I could keep doing this the whole night...’ his words vibrated against his hole. He could feel that damned smirk on Malfoy’s face. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for that smile.
Malfoy sucked on his rim. Harry trashed under him, his movements cut short because of the restraints and that seemed to drive Malfoy even further. He heard a distant groan, but clearly felt it against his hole. Malfoy’s tongue breached him, slow, unrelenting, breaking his self-control, teasing him open, and Harry felt so incredible safe, so gone out of his mind, infinite in Malfoy’s hands, under his tongue.
‘Oh please, please… Malfoy… please, I’ll be good, so good for you.’
He didn’t know what he was asking for anymore, the only thing he knew was that tongue, moving inside him, Malfoy’s thumb caressing the skin near his hole, Malfoy’s face pressing into him, his hairs tinkling his skin, and he was bucking back against that heat, against Malfoy’s mouth and tongue, forgetting everything. He moaned freely, loud, his body going more pliant as Malfoy’s hands gripped his arse, forcing his tongue further inside Harry. He was going to come and he couldn’t, he had to take this, he had to, but he wasn’t strong enough, he was a hole, just a hole for Malfoy to fuck… a small, tight hole, being torn apart by that tongue. Merlin, that mouth. That filthy, terrible mouth. He felt powerless against the building pleasure, his orgasm starting to rise up, a force that could not be contained, but he had to fight it, Malfoy hadn’t allowed it, his orgasm wasn’t his, it was Malfoy’s… Malfoy’s to decide, Malfoy’s to have.
Hands were moving up his sides and coming up from behind to hold him close. Malfoy’s arms circled around him and he heard someone sob, lost, whimpering and babbling. He took some time to realise it was his own voice, that he had passed the test, he hadn’t come with Malfoy’s tongue inside him, he had been good. Malfoy was whispering something on his ear, soft words, his lips brushing on his neck, but he couldn’t hear it, he just felt Malfoy’s hands rubbing circles over his chest, so gentle.
The blindfold was dampened. His eyes felt warm and wet. Malfoy had fucked him until he cried and was now holding him like they were all alone, like they were lovers, like they had all the time in the world and not just one night.
‘You did so good, Harry…’
Harry wanted to stay like that forever, his cock hard, Malfoy pressed against his pained back and arse, Malfoy’s arms around him, Malfoy’s voice on his ear.
‘You’re so amazing, the most beautiful slut I’ve ever seen in my life.’
He caught the words but took longer to catch their meaning. It seemed different from any praise he’d had. This was Malfoy, calling him good and beautiful. This was his ex-childhood nemesis, holding him like a lover, taking him down to an underworld of pain and shameless pleasure and he had never known he wanted this so much. His body was throbbing in every point of connection with Malfoy’s. He realised just then that Malfoy was still hard too. He pressed back into Malfoy and this time Malfoy let him. They stood like that for some time, Harry feeling the pressure from Malfoy’s cock against his arse. He wished that Malfoy was naked, that he could feel his cock properly, his whole body, that he would be allowed to touch.
He was barely aware of Malfoy moving to release the restraints on his ankles and then coming up to do the same on his wrists. Was it over then? The sobs were rising on his throat and he didn’t want to, he didn’t mean to cry, he had loved every second of it and if Malfoy said it was over he had to accept that. Maybe Malfoy already had what he wanted from him, maybe this was exactly what he’d meant from the beginning: to leave Harry desperate and wanting and unsatisfied, used . The sobs were out, as were the words.
‘No, please, I don’t want it to be over, I can take it, please… I’ll be good, I’ll be so good for you Malfoy… please, let me show you.’
Malfoy held him, his hands massaging his wrists and it felt so caring, so strange. Harry was shaking, Malfoy turning him around, holding his weight against the cross. His arse hurt, but the change in position helped to relax his limbs, and so did Malfoy’s hands holding him, one on his hip, one on his back. Malfoy pressed his forehead to Harry’s.
‘You’re already pleasing me, you have no idea just how much…’ Malfoy said. The bulge in his pants came in contact with Harry’s cock. He rutted against Harry, slow and purposeful, a gasp escaping his lips. One of Malfoy’s hands came up to cup Harry’s face, his lips too close to Harry’s. Just a tiny movement from one of them and they would be kissing.
‘You’re the sweetest thing I’ve had in a very long time. I’m far from done with you.’
Harry’s next sob got caught on his throat as he registered the words.
‘I’m thinking… you deserve a nice treat. For your good behaviour.’
Oh.
‘I’m going to show you just how pleased I am.’
He pulled Harry’s arms up again, gently, binding them to the cross, leaving the ankles free. There was a long pause in which Harry felt Malfoy’s eyes raking over him. He could barely even breathe.
Malfoy’s voice came drifting over his dizzying mind.
‘I’m going to suck your cock.’
There were hands on his thighs and a warm breath over his cock. Then Malfoy took him whole inside his wet mouth.
Harry cried out, his hips snapping forward at once, his cock sinking into the tightness of Malfoy’s mouth. There was only Malfoy, his tongue licking down his length, his hand gripping the base of Harry’s cock as he sucked him down. How could Malfoy be the one kneeling on the floor, taking his cock down his throat and still be so fucking dominating? That mouth was wicked, that was the best way to put it. Harry forgot all reasoning, his moans loud and helpless in the club, a river of pleas out of his mouth, his arms thrashing against the leather. He was screaming Malfoy’s name, over and over again. Harry felt like he was the one being fucked, even as his hips set a brutal thrusting rhythm edged on by Malfoy, who was now shamelessly moaning around his cock, taking him as deep as he could go. Harry was going to come and for the feel of it, it would be a fucking brutal orgasm. His bollocks were drawn up, his whole body taut as Malfoy sucked him like he’d been thirsty for this all his life. This was madness. All this. This brutal chemistry between them, this all consuming need. Lights flashed before him, blinking white spots in his darkness, as Malfoy gagged on his cock, willingly. His throat constricted once around Harry’s cock and it was too good and too much, Harry was going to come. But he couldn’t. Malfoy had to authorize it and his mouth was currently very busy. He felt the devious smile around his cock. The bastard knew what he was doing.
Draco please, please. His thoughts were jumbled, his fists clenched to the point of pain. He’d never come without permission, he was starting to panic, he couldn’t, he couldn’t, Malfoy hadn’t said yes… he couldn’t be a bad slut, he wouldn’t, he wanted to be so good for Malfoy… fuckfuckfuckfuck. His body tensed up in the effort to keep his orgasm at bay. He couldn’t come without permission. Wouldn’t.
‘Draco!’
His own yell rang on his ears, a desperate scream. Malfoy instantly popped his mouth out and Harry’s hips snapped forward, fucking into the air, helpless to stop. His throat was hurting and that only meant he was still screaming.
Oh my god, I’m going to come with him looking at me like this and I can’t even see him, but if he just said so, I would. I could come now at his command…
Harry felt Malfoy’s breathing on his lips.
‘What did you call me?’
Harry’s heart hammered. His head swam and his whole body was trembling from the interrupted orgasm. He fought to be able to speak, his throat closing down on him.
‘Draco. I’m sorry. Malfoy. Fuck. Please,’ he was babbling, out of his mind.
‘Shh… Draco is fine… Harry.’
Malfoy was cupping his face again, his scent strong and intoxicating, the full meaning of his words beyond Harry’s grasp. Draco. He felt trapped in a world filled with Draco Malfoy. His demanding voice that could be cold and sweet all at the same time, his hands so cruel and gentle, his eyes that could pin Harry down like restraints, even if he could not see them.
‘I’m going to indulge you a bit… what do you want Harry?’
He badly wanted to come. He fucking needed the release. And he had wanted to be fucked out of his mind. He had wanted so many things, so many...
‘I want to see you… Please.’
A moment’s hesitation. Draco’s hands moved to his blindfold and he took it off. Harry blinked, black spots smearing his vision. He closed his eyes shut, resting his head against the leather, waiting for it to pass. Beads of sweat and tears were trickling down his face freely and he felt too exposed without the blindfold. He blinked again, turning his head.
Draco Malfoy’s face came into view, too close to his, too real. The grey eyes bore into his. He’d seen Malfoy so many times but never up this close. And never like this. His blond hair fell over one of his eyes, obscuring it. His lips were thin, slightly parted and red. They were wet - from sucking and rimming Harry. There was a hint of a pleased smirk there, but just a hint. Like he wasn’t too sure of himself just then. Fuck. Draco Malfoy was… gorgeous . He was simply gorgeous.
Harry let his eyes roam freely, now that they could. As he had known, Malfoy was impeccably dressed. He wore a black suit, perfectly tailored to his body, all straight lines and nice cuts and of course it fitted him everywhere. His black shirt was open at the neck, something in between formal and mussed up, like he wanted other people to decide which version of him they wanted. Like an invitation. A provocation of sorts, as everything else in him was. Harry knew which version he liked best. Both. Both of them, this undefined state that was Malfoy, poised, seemingly collected but with spitting fire burning underneath. He looked down, feeling himself blush. He could see the bulge on Malfoy’s trousers, the long defined line of his cock. His mouth watered at the sight.
He yanked his eyes up again. Malfoy was still looking at him, eyes unreadable, shadows playing across the hard angles of his face. God, Harry wanted to kiss him. And much more. He wanted to draw all that fire out. How did he never notice Draco Malfoy was this fucking beautiful? But he did notice that before. He had just chosen to ignore it. Josh had been right. Malfoy was his type. Everything in him made Harry want to succumb. The grey eyes surveyed Harry.
‘Like what you see?’ Draco asked. His tone wasn’t so assured just now, it faltered slightly. It made Harry all the more dizzy and willing to show him just how much he liked everything about him.
‘You’re… Fuck.’
Malfoy tilted his head in interest, his hair falling to the side. Harry saw arousal in the deep grey eyes.
‘What, Harry?’
He knew, at that moment, he was screwed. His answer would be too revealing.
‘Nothing,’ he whispered. He couldn’t really say what was on his mind, without sounding like a fucking teenager with a crush. A crush on his Dom for the night. Really, that was ridiculous.
‘I thought we had been through this,’ Malfoy said. The confident smirk was there in an instant, robbing all coherent thought from Harry’s mind. ‘When I ask you a question I want an honest answer.’
Harry blushed fiercely. The truth was out before he could stop it.
‘You’re so goddamned beautiful.’
He waited for Malfoy’s mock laugh at his stupid infatuation. But Malfoy wasn’t laughing. If anything, he looked mesmerized. He hadn’t been expecting this. His eyes were a deeper shade of grey. His smirk was turning into something else, a slow smile, one Harry had never seen on him and had no idea what it meant. He was even more beautiful like this.
‘Josh did tell me I’m your type,’ he said slowly. Cautiously.
‘More than,’ Harry choked out. His throat felt so dry. He couldn’t take this closeness, this conversation that sounded too much like a confession.
‘You’re my type too,’ Draco said, that slow smile still on his face. Harry got lost in it. ‘You’ve always been my type.’
Fuck. So, he hadn’t been imagining it. The way Malfoy looked at him when they crossed paths at the Ministry. The way those grey eyes followed him on those random pub nights. The way they were now watching him, a glint in them that Harry wanted to draw all out.
‘Draco-’ it sounded more like a moan than anything. It felt so good to say it.
He wanted Draco Malfoy to spread him open and fuck him. His whole body was screaming for it, loud and clear, his hole still stretched and wet from Draco’s tongue.
Malfoy’s eyes flickered to his cock, the smirk playing again on his lips.
‘You’ve been hard for hours. Did you know that?’
If that voice had made some damage on his nerves when he couldn’t see Malfoy, now it was even worse. The voice was the perfect companion to that angular face, filled with stark contrasts. The hard lines, the unwavering eyes, that smile that could go so many different ways, that hint of unsureness so neatly hidden behind demanding words.
Something in Harry shattered, he looked down, avoiding the grey eyes, fighting the words out.
‘I want you,’ he whispered.
The silence felt electrified. Malfoy pressed closer, his bulge rubbing against Harry’s cock.
‘What did you say?’
Harry knew he had heard him. He just wanted Harry to say it again. Out loud. Now that he wasn’t blindfolded, he couldn’t admit he wanted to be fucked by Draco Malfoy. Everything felt more real like this, like he couldn’t hide from his own deepest desires, like Malfoy could see through him.
‘I want you. Want you to…’ he swallowed around the words. ‘Fuck me.’
He didn’t look up, eyes fixed on Draco’s silver cuff buttons, glittering under the lights of the club. He refused to be aware of his surroundings - because if he did, if he saw the men watching them, if he saw Josh, he would be unable to go on.
Draco chuckled. His hand came up to Harry’s jaw and forced it up. Harry was faced with hungry grey eyes on his, and he burned, heart frantic on his chest. Those eyes made anything worthy.
They stared at each other silently.
‘Ask nicely,’ Malfoy drawled, and his lips curled up into a teasing smile.
‘Please, fuck me,’ Harry blurted out, cheeks flaming up. ‘Fuck me, Draco. I want you.’
The grey eyes glinted, Harry gulped.
‘No,’ Draco said, eyes watching intently.
Harry was about to whimper, or cry, or go crazy, maybe all at the same time.
‘Please, Draco… make me yours… fuck me.’
It was only a whisper. Draco revelled in it, his lips parted in a gasp, his eyes on fire. For this hint of nearly uncontrolled fire, Harry would beg all night.
‘Fuck me,’ he said again. It sounded pathetic, but he didn’t care. Draco’s reaction was everything, his face torn between arousal and control, a battle taking place there and Harry so wanted to see which side would win. If there would be any winners at all.
Draco leaned in closer, his breath hitching on Harry’s neck and Harry tilted his head, offering his neck.
‘Fuck me,’ he murmured. He heard Malfoy suck in a hard breath. ‘Draco, please, fuck me open… I need… I need your cock...’ Malfoy’s mouth opened over his neck and he bit down, harshly, Harry crying out at the sudden pain, but his body giving in to it almost instantaneously.
Malfoy sucked on his skin, hard and long, and the sounds he made were heaven for Harry, so his mouth kept begging, non-stop now.
‘Want your cock inside me… I want it so badly. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, please…’
Draco released his neck, stepped back.
‘I’m not going to. Not yet ,’ he said, eyes dark, pupils blown wide.
He nudged Harry’s cock to the side, carelessly, like a nuisance, and came closer, his eyes darting to Harry’s nipples. He pinched them between his forefinger and thumb. Harry arched into the touch and noticed that both their breaths seemed to be out of control. He couldn’t believe he was able to have this effect on Malfoy. Calm, controlled, untouchable Draco Malfoy.
Draco bent his head down and his tongue flicked over Harry’s hard nipple. He was tasting Harry. Then he turned around, walked two steps to the side table where his instruments were displayed, and he picked up the cane. Harry sucked in a breath.
Malfoy walked over, like a vision from Harry’s darkest fantasies, and without further ado, placed the tip of the cane against his nipple. There was a heartbeat in which Harry breathed in sharply, eyes wide, mouth falling open. Then Draco twisted his wrist just so and the cane twisted his nipple cruelly. There was such sweet pain that Harry cried out. And begged for more.
Malfoy kept pinching his nipples harshly, one at a time, making them hard between his fingers, then pressing the tip of the cane there, playing, twisting them mercilessly. The pain was sharp and wonderful.
‘Fuck me,’ Harry said in a small whimper.
He saw the vicious look on Malfoy’s face, satisfaction and arousal seared into his eyes.
‘Fuck me.’
The grey eyes were dark, like a gathering storm. He did it again. Just to be sure he wasn’t imagining it.
‘Fuck me, Malfoy…’
Malfoy’s jaw tensed minutely, his smirk forming thin lines on his face. Harry wouldn’t have noticed any of this if he wasn’t completely enraptured by Draco.
‘Fuck me,’ he repeated, watching the bulge on Draco’s trousers. Malfoy shifted, adjusting his trousers just so. The cane twisted again on his nipple. Harry screamed.
Fucking god, he was hungry, so fucking hungry for Malfoy. He wanted Malfoy to snap, to lose all his composure and just take Harry, brutally and completely.
‘Draco. Just… please fuck me.’
He watched in awe as Malfoy’s lips curled up, his eyes alight, his hand tensing on the cane.
‘No,’ he said. And the cane twisted over his nipple. Through the haze of it, Harry saw Draco dropping to his knees, laying the cane on the floor and looking up.
‘I want you to look at me while I suck you off. You can’t close your eyes or look away. You ready?’
No. He wasn’t ready for the vision of Draco Malfoy down on his knees in front of him. He’d never be, but instead his words were:
‘Fuck. Okay, Draco.’
Malfoy’s lips brushed over the tip of Harry’s cock, warm. Gentle. His hips snapped forward instantly. Draco opened his mouth around his cock, swirling his tongue around the head, then going down, eyes not leaving Harry’s. For the first time they looked unguarded, wanting. Harry drowned in them as his cock was swallowed by Draco. His body was slick with sweat and need, pliant under Draco, his cock disappearing inside that mouth, his mind empty of all coherent thought.
He stopped begging, he stopped wishing he could come, he just let Draco use him, drink him down, tease him beyond desperation. Draco controlled their pace, slow and maddening, his hands caressing Harry’s thighs, then his nails bit into his skin there and the pain mingled with the pleasure, sweetly. Draco was the perfect picture of someone who loved sucking cock and would gladly be at it for hours.
Harry never looked away, trapped by the vision of Draco sucking him off, his cheeks hollowing, his eyes burning through Harry as if he wanted to imprint himself on Harry’s mind, beyond this night, probably forever.
Draco gripped the base of Harry’s cock and stood back, his mouth releasing Harry’s cock with a pop. He looked unkempt, his hair a bit disheveled, his breath heaving. Harry wished he could bury his hands in that hair and mess it up properly.
Draco spoke softly against his length.
‘The next time my mouth touches your cock, I want you to come.’
Harry didn’t even had time to think on it, to fully grasp it.
He was coming into Draco Malfoy’s mouth the second those lips latched around his cock. His mouth opened in a deep silent cry. He wasn’t surprised with the fact that his voice was gone. His body jerked violently, his arms shuddered against the restraints. Draco’s fingers gripped him hard and Harry was coming, eyes shot open, his body taut, his cock hitting the back of Draco’s throat, spunk shooting out of him. Draco drank him down, eyes drifting closed, like he was in another world entirely, a world made of Harry’s taste. And Harry’s whole world was Draco and the mouth around his cock, drinking him down to the last drop, taking everything he was.
He came back to it with Draco kissing along his hipbone, his every touch a torture Harry wanted never to end. He watched as Draco licked his own lips, and then as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He stood up, his hands climbing up Harry’s chest.
‘You taste so fucking good,’ he said, his hand coming up behind Harry’s neck and idly rubbing circles there. Harry was shivering. From the touch, from the words. From the fucking mind-blown orgasm he’d just had. Draco liked his taste.
‘What do you want, Harry?’
Harry was shy and awkward all of a sudden, his body drained, his heart wanting. He looked at Draco’s lips. They were just there, so close.
‘I… I want… Kiss me, please,’ he blurted out.
His face was burning with embarrassment. He usually begged to be fucked, sucked, spanked. But not this. Josh was the only man he usually kissed and inside the club he’d never wanted other men to kiss him. Until now. He was desperate for Draco’s mouth on his, desperate to know what it was like to be kissed by those lips that had been rimming him, sucking him, talking dirty to him, ordering him around, he wanted to know if they were demanding also on his mouth, he wanted that vicious tongue breaching him, leaving no place inside him untouched.
‘Of all the things, what you want is for me to kiss you?’ Draco’s voice was hoarse, Harry felt a tingle of irony in it, but the irony was drowning in surprise and want. And Draco wasn’t able to hide it. His body flared up again, drawn to Malfoy’s.
‘Yes. Please.’
‘Is that what you want?’
‘Yes.’
‘A kiss. From me?’
‘Yes, Draco.’
‘Just one?’
One will never be enough, he thought suddenly.
‘Whatever you think I deserve,’ he whispered.
He couldn’t believe he was fucking begging for a kiss from Draco Malfoy and he couldn’t believe how hot that was, nor could he believe the effect that was having on Draco. They were teasing each other over a fucking kiss, after Harry had been cropped, caned, rimmed and sucked, and it seemed like this was it . The most powerful intimate thing he’d ever begged for.
‘Please Draco…’
‘No.’
A slow devious teasing smile knocked all the breath out of Harry. He couldn’t take it.
‘Look at me, Harry. Did I say you could look away?’ The loving hand behind his neck was tight over his throat, hard, pressing, Malfoy’s fingers slowly suffocating him.
Harry let his head fall back against the leather, not fighting it, sinking into it. Fuck. Josh had really been thorough in telling Draco his every kink. He was going to drown in those grey eyes.
‘Draco… please… please…’ he fought to speak, voice coming in cut rasps, all the air about to leave him. He blinked, his eyes wet, white spots on his vision. Malfoy was breathing heavily, like he was the one fighting for air. The hand on his throat released the grip, and Harry coughed, his body shuddering, Malfoy pressed against him, that hand, that hand going down, moving between them, but to not to touch Harry, no. Instead, Malfoy unbuckled his belt, opened his fly, no hurry in his movements, only a relentless determination in them.
Nothing could have stopped Harry from staring - just an order from Draco and he was relieved he’d received no such order. His mouth fell open, as he watched Malfoy’s long fingers take out his cock and wrap around it. It was long, thick and beautiful, the tip wet.
‘I want you to watch me while I fuck you open. You’re not allowed to move or come. Or kiss me,’ Malfoy looked up at him. His smile was cruel and Harry revelled in it, his whole body coming awake again, like he’d been jolted back to life.
‘Yes,’ he wanted to scream the answer, but it came out as a gasp.
Draco came up to Harry, one hand on his cock, the other coming to rest on Harry’s hip.
‘Do you think you can take this?’
It wasn’t a provocation, Harry realised. It was an honest question, one that showed care. He’d been cleaned and rimmed, but he knew it was going to hurt. No matter, because he liked it, he liked it a bit rough, a little on the side of painful, and he knew Draco would be careful. The thought made something twist inside Harry, something he did not want to be feeling because it really complicated things. Even more.
‘I want to,’ he said, heat spreading up his neck. ‘Maybe with lots of lube and… go slow at first, please?’
Draco nodded. He stepped back and used the hand crank on the cross to tilt it back. Harry let his head fall back, breathing deeply, adjusting to the sensation of being nearly horizontal, after hours standing up.
Malfoy placed his legs on the leather, parting them to his will. Harry turned his head to the side, smelling the leather. It was slick with his sweat, after all he’d been strapped there for what looked like hours. He felt completely exposed like this, to everyone watching, but especially to Malfoy. This way, Malfoy could fuck him better, not having to worry about lifting his weight and for Harry it would be more comfortable too. Instead of feeling the urge to hide, he felt that this was right. This was what he wanted all along. To be spread out for Malfoy to use him.
He wasn’t wearing his glasses so everything farther than Draco was blurry. There were figures watching them, and some people on the sofas farther back. Josh was one of them. Harry hoped he was enjoying himself, getting off on this. He saw Draco adjusting the straps on his hands again, checking his fingers’ response. Then he turned to the side table and came back with a bottle of lube. The grey eyes were suddenly unguarded.
For a moment, they weren’t Dom’s eyes, they were just Draco’s.
‘I want you to tell me to stop if you need to,’ Malfoy said. ‘And I want to know if it hurts when it’s not supposed to,’ he swallowed. He looked gorgeous and unhinged, his hair falling over one of his eyes, his cheeks tinged a soft red. ‘Can you do that for me?’
The something that was twisting inside Harry stuttered at this, wanting to break free, to make itself visible. He wasn’t a sub at that moment, he was just Harry. He knew then that Draco wanted this as much as he did. He was about to be fucked by Draco Malfoy, and he did not see any of this coming, not in a million years.
‘Yes, Draco. I’ll do that,’ Harry took another deep breath and felt himself falling right into it again, going down.
Malfoy’s eyes changed again, becoming grey like steel, burning through him, pressing him down on the leather, his mouth twisting again into that smirk that just made Harry want to comply.
Draco opened the bottle of lube and stood between Harry’s parted legs. He slickened his cock, his hand slow, purposeful, his lips parting. How could Malfoy be like this? How could he be the perfect torment and the perfect lover? How could he be everything Harry never even knew he’d wanted?
Draco placed the lube on his back pocket and lowered his trousers to a more comfortable position. Everything he was doing was simple and natural, but it was all building up for the moment when his cock would be opening Harry up and tearing him apart. Harry lifted his head to be able to watch the movement of Draco’s hand over his shaft. Draco looked so good like this, so in control of his own pleasure, so assured. His chest heaving, his hand slow on his cock, his eyes on Harry. God, Harry wanted to sink down on that cock, he wanted to be fucked into the leather - and he was going to be.
Draco’s other hand trailed up Harry’s thigh. He leaned over and forced Harry to bend his knees, lifting his legs up. Harry groaned at the feel of Draco’s cock finally rubbing against his own. He wasn’t hard, but he would be, sooner than later. He already felt his cock responding to the contact, swelling slowly. Draco pressed his palm against both their cocks and Harry fought to not arch back into the touch. Malfoy had forbidden him to move. He trembled when Malfoy’s teeth bit on his nipple. They were so close, still not close enough.
‘Please… let me wrap my legs around you… please…’
Draco lifted his head up, surveyed him, silent. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking. He nodded, curtly, and at once Harry’s legs wrapped around his waist, arching closer to him. Now his hole was gaping open, waiting for Draco to fill it. Draco brushed the tip of his cock against it and Harry held his breath. He’d had several men fucking him, why was he feeling like this was a first time of sorts?
Draco dragged his cock along his crease, breath stuttering quite suddenly. His eyes glinted in the light of the club and what Harry saw there eased the knot in the pit of his stomach. Draco was going to take him apart, carefully and brutally, just like Harry liked. Just like they both liked. His hole clenched and unclenched experimentally, expectant. He wanted to be filled, he wanted Draco to reach deep into him and make him forget that there was a world beyond this. Draco pushed through.
‘Fuck.’
Harry thought he’d imagined it, but Draco said it again, as the tip of his cock breached his hole. Harry’s whole body tensed at the intrusion, sweat breaking on his temple, and he forced himself to relax around the cock he wanted so badly inside him. He breathed in deeply, concentrating on the feeling of Draco’s fingers running up and down his leg, soothing him. So gentle… Harry looked at Draco, searching his eyes. Draco seemed about to ask something but Harry stopped him.
‘More. Please.’
The smirk flickered over Draco’s lips and he moved forward, slow and purposeful. This time he did not stop, he kept going, watching Harry all the while, pressing through. Harry had had bigger cocks inside him and usually they were a disappointment. It wasn’t about the size, it was about what you did with it, and Draco knew what he was doing, he kept going in one continuous motion, letting Harry adjust to stretch and burn. Harry did not look away from Draco, as he kept breathing deep, his muscles tensing and relaxing, waiting for the moment the pain would recede and shift, pleasure burning him and tangling with the pain.
‘All of it, please,’ he whispered. Malfoy’s eyes were wide, but he moved, pressing into Harry even when he found resistance and then he was fully seated, his heavy bullocks nudged against Harry’s arse.
Harry realised he’d closed his eyes to better take it. He opened them. Draco looked completely wrecked, his hair plastered to his face, eyes dark-grey, sweat trickling on his forehead - he looked more beautiful than ever. Harry felt like he would burst the minute Draco moved inside him.
‘I’m going to fuck you now,’ Draco said. And then he moved.
The first thrust of his hips still caught Harry by surprise. His body convulsed around Draco, his arms tensed on the restraints as he tried to push back into the feeling. He wasn’t ready for this, for the intense response of his body. His thighs tensed around Draco, pulling him close, as Draco thrust into him, slow but steady, like he knew exactly what Harry needed. Harry heard himself scream when another thrust hit his prostate and he jerked, forced down by Draco’s hands, one on his leg, keeping it up, the other on his chest, pressing down.
‘Fuck, Potter, I knew your arse would be like this…’
Draco was speaking over him, his voice uneven, as he thrust again inside Harry, breaking away any resistance he might had. Harry stopped thinking, his hole clenching and releasing around Draco’s cock, and he was being filled up so good he wanted to cry. He let Draco have his way with him, his every thrust taking him apart.
‘I love your arse,’ Draco grunted, voice breaking in a low moan. He’d stopped being slow and careful, and Harry could not look away from his face, contorted in pleasure, his teeth biting on his lower lip. He looked blissed-out, and he looked like that because he was inside Harry.
‘I knew I would love it... I can’t believe you’re letting me have it.’
Harry could not breathe, could not think, his heart hammering on his throat, his body taut and he was hard again, his cock pressing against Draco’s stomach, needy and properly ignored, as Draco kept drilling into him, fast, hips snapping against his arse, sending jolts of pain and pleasure all over him. Draco Malfoy’s fuck was relentless. Harry screamed, feeling Draco’s cock drag inside him, battering at his prostate.
‘I’m going to, I can’t-’
Draco grabbed Harry’s hair harshly, pulling his head back. His eyes were a storm Harry drowned in.
‘Yes, you can, Harry,’ Draco said.
He stopped moving, his cock inside Harry.
‘You will, for me. I know you will take it and take it, until you can’t anymore,’ the look on Draco’s face was vicious and proud, his cock unmoving inside Harry. ‘And then I’m going to make you come all over yourself, and you’ll scream so loud you'll make every fucking cock in this room harder.’
‘Oh fuck,’ Harry tensed up, the words almost making him come on the spot. But he knew he would take it, he knew it. He would, because Draco was everything on his mind, on his body, on his heart.
‘You’re allowed to move from now on. But you still can’t kiss me,’ Draco added.
Harry nodded frantically. He would take what he could have. It would never be enough. He hitched his hips up, Draco driving into him, fast and hard, and the change in angle made everything better and all the more impossible. He bucked against Draco, using his thighs to bring his body closer to Draco’s, his cock dragging against Draco’s clothes. It was a torment, but so worthy, because Draco grunted loud on his ear, and he clenched his jaw. Then Draco lost it, his hips snapped, his mouth climbed up Harry’s throat, biting and kissing and moaning, and Harry felt devoured, his body wrecked, Draco pounding him.
Harry was trapped under Draco’s body and it felt like heaven and hell all wrapped into one. He lifted his hips up, Draco’s cock sliding deeper inside.
‘You tease…’ Draco growled.
‘You said I could move…’ Harry whispered and moved his hips just so, watching Draco bite in a gasp. He loved this Draco that was losing control inside him, loved to be the reason for it. He usually wasn’t like this, he was obedient, but teasing Draco, provoking him, had always been their thing… he couldn’t avoid it.
‘I want to be so good for you, Draco… fill me up,’ he hitched his hips up again, and Draco grunted against him. Harry couldn’t believe what he was doing or saying. He wanted to be filled with Draco, stuffed with him everywhere.
‘Fuck me open, Draco... I’ll take you. All of you.’
Then, with no warning, Draco pulled him up by his hair, a fierce look on his face and kissed him.
Harry lost it. His mouth opened to be taken over by Draco’s tongue and he felt he could die, he had never tasted something like that, the only reason he wasn’t falling in a heap on the floor was because he was impaled on Draco’s cock, his wrists still restrained, his body trapped under Draco’s, because he was on free fall inside that mouth. And Draco tasted like coming home and he didn’t know why. Harry moaned inside Draco’s mouth, lost to the world, panting loud, as Draco’s cock fucked into him and his mouth almost ate him alive.
‘Come for me, Harry,’ Draco’s voice was barely a whisper, but it reached inside Harry and liberated the last restraint on his will.
He came screaming inside Draco’s mouth, his spunk shooting between them, Draco fucking into him so deep he felt like he was being split in two. His come was splattering his own chest, Draco’s mouth crashing over his lips, biting on them viciously, and Draco was still thrusting inside him.
Draco grabbed his hair in a tight grip and then he bit so hard at his neck that Harry stopped seeing, he was almost fainting and Draco grunted and came inside him, drilling into him, Harry’s hole clenching hard around his cock, seemingly trying to suck Draco in. His body was pliable and abused and drunk on pain and pleasure, and his hole was dripping with Draco’s come, hot and wet.
He was leaning against the cross, his arms free of the restraints, Draco holding him close, arms wrapped around Harry, so careful. Draco was using a wet cloth to clean his chest, slowly and gently. He did not remember Draco moving away from him, but his hole felt empty. Every place on Harry’s body hurt and throbbed and he loved it. Draco caressed his arms, over and over, warming them up, making sure he was fine and he was, he truly was, even if tomorrow he would be sleeping this off the whole day.
Draco was speaking against his mouth.
‘You did so good, Harry… so, so good…’
He felt tears welling up on his eyes at the words, his body melting into Draco’s. His hands tightened on Draco’s arms. They were lean and strong. He was so glad he could finally touch them.
‘Do you want to be kissed, Harry?’
What? He was confused. He’d thought he’d had his luck. One kiss.
He looked at Draco, the grey eyes were so close. There was something welling up in them, some emotion.
‘That was fucking, Harry. Do you want me to really kiss you?’ he asked softly.
Yes. Yes.
He wasn't able to answer with words, but Draco reached behind his neck and tugged him closer. Harry sobbed, he was a mess, he didn’t expect Draco to ever want to kiss him now, while he was babbling, sweaty, tears streaming down his face. But Draco did.
And this time it was everything and nothing like the first one. Their lips brushed slowly, then Draco coaxed his mouth open. Harry’s lips parted, a sob, a moan, a pitiful little sound escaping his throat and Draco plunged inside his mouth, carefully, deeply, his tongue running over Harry’s lips, his teeth nipping, his fingers tangling in Harry’s hair.
Harry’s arms came up freely around Draco’s neck, pulling him closer and he forgot everything. He forgot about the War and the night terrors he still had, he forgot about his daily routine of fighting evil, he forgot about the club, the late nights at bars, the dates gone wrong, the feeling that his life was going nowhere and was always more of the same, day after day, until he was driven under by someone, the only meaningful part of his weeks. But he also forgot about those someones, those other nights. There was only Draco’s taste, mingled with his own. A long moan was coming out of his mouth into Draco’s, he felt drunk on Draco’s taste and scent and his tongue dared out of his mouth, searching Draco’s. He was allowed in.
Draco sucked his tongue in. Then Harry heard it. A gentle, desperate little moan. Not his, Draco’s . Draco broke the kiss, panting, looking suddenly lost.
‘You drive me mad,’ he whispered, and it was like a confession, really, meant only for Harry’s ears.
‘I thought I was the only one…’ Harry said, but he didn’t even finish that sentence, because Draco was taking his mouth again and he was letting Harry inside, his fingers catching on Harry’s hair, hurting, easing.
Harry had never been kissed like that, like he was about to die and Draco was a lifeline. But he wasn’t the only one. Draco looked lost in it too, his hands tugging at Harry’s hair, and face and neck, too intimate, too close, too… lovingly. Harry tangled his hands on the blond hair, marvelling at how soft it was, his fingers rubbing against Draco’s scalp.
Draco was muttering against his face, kissing along his jaw.
‘You are so beautiful, Harry… I loved everything.’
Harry dragged his hands over Draco’s back, one of his hands searching wildly under his shirt, and finally he was touching Draco’s skin. They were kissing again, slow and desperate. He was falling inside Draco’s mouth, falling falling falling and it was like flying and falling at the same time and fuck… it couldn’t be. He was falling for Draco Malfoy.
He didn’t know how long that kiss lasted. Long enough for him to be sure. Not nearly enough for what he wanted. Draco was half-carrying him, away from the cross, his arms holding Harry safely.
Harry let his head fall on the crook of his neck and inhaled, not wanting to acknowledge the presence of anyone else in the room just yet. He wanted Draco’s scent on him forever. He wished he didn’t have to let go. He closed his eyes.
Draco was laying him down on one of the sofas, adjusting the cushions under him, the soft fabric brushing against his abused skin. It hurt in all the right ways, like Draco had done.
Harry was falling asleep, too exhausted to realise what was even happening. He felt another pair of hands on him. Josh’s. He heard him speak to Draco, voices low and he didn’t get the words. Draco’s hand was brushing over his leg, gentle, Josh was softly thumbing his wrists, as they kept talking. He was so tired he couldn’t get anything of the conversation, he couldn’t even manage to open his eyes, he just wanted their hands to not leave him. This was the moment when he became fully Josh’s again. He whimpered weakly, as Josh nuzzled him against his chest. His heart was beating loudly.
‘Did you… did you like it, Josh? Was I good?’ his voice came out in a rasp. He’d never asked this. Not like this anyway. He’d almost forgotten all about Josh during the play, he felt guilty and couldn’t process it, his mind was racing. He let his head fall against Josh’s chest, his hand tightening on his shirt.
‘Baby, I loved it…’ Josh said, whispering in his ear, his hand brushing Harry’s hair back. ‘You were so, so good. So beautiful. God, you both were, you had the attention of everyone in this room. I bet next time there’ll be a line of men willing to spank you.’
Josh laughed, his chest rumbling, his voice sweet against Harry’s neck. He felt relief washing over him, his mouth searched for Josh’s and they kissed, slowly, gently. The kiss sealed the night, it signaled the moment when he became Josh’s. Everything was fine. But Harry was still terrified. He’d never been taken like this.
It seemed like a long time before he could even think or remember his own name… he only did because someone was breathing it gently on his ear… Josh? Josh’s hands were on his back, applying salve and easing his pain, but tears were welling up on Harry’s eyes.
‘Don’t, Josh. Don’t heal… I don’t-’
He had Draco’s marks all over him, on his neck, and back, and thighs and he wanted them there. He wanted to see the bruises there on the next day. He didn’t want to be healed. He wanted to feel Draco on him. When he moved, every time he walked, he wanted to feel him. On his skin, inside him.
He realised he couldn’t feel Draco’s hand on his leg anymore… did he leave? Did he not like it? Wasn’t he happy with Harry? Wasn’t Harry good enough? Maybe he’d had better… a man like him, he could have anyone. Harry did not want to cry but he couldn’t reel it in, his whole body was stretched beyond belief, his emotions wrecked.
He opened his eyes briefly, Josh’s face swam into view.
‘Where’s Draco? Draco…’
‘Shh… love, he’s right there. He’s just giving us some space.’
He closed his eyes again, unable to keep them open. Josh was kissing his temple.
‘Draco… I want…’ he was babbling. What if this never happened again? What if he never got Draco again? He couldn’t bear the thought. His heart was hammering inside him.
‘I’m here, Harry…’
Harry trembled at the sound of his name and that voice. He couldn’t move, the only thing he could feel was the gentle caress of Draco’s hands on his left leg, up and down, soothing, so gentle after all the pain, almost caring…
He turned towards the sound of Draco’s voice.
‘Did I please you?’ he asked, his voice barely a whisper. ‘Was I good enough for you?’
He heard Draco let out a long breath, his hand stilling over his thigh, warm. He forced himself to open his eyes.
Draco was there, so close. His eyes looked like rain. Harry had never known they were so beautiful. He’d never known there were so many gradients of grey in the world. He wanted them on him like that forever. Some unknown emotion was pressing on them, just under the surface. Draco was fighting himself on something. Fear and doubt engulfed Harry. Maybe he was just going to tell Harry this was a one time only thing. Like all the other ones. He’d never cared before.
‘Harry…’ Draco swallowed, shadows playing across his face. ‘You were… so good. More than. You were everything. The best I’ve ever had,’ his hands were as gentle now as they’d been strong, demanding and cruel before.
Even through the haze on his mind, Harry could sense that there was something Draco wasn’t telling him.
‘Draco?’
‘Josh is going to take you home, okay Harry? He’s going to take care of you.’
Draco was leaning down and pressing gentle kisses on his forehead, down his nose, cheeks, and neck and Harry’s eyes fluttered shut as he tried not to cry. Don’t let go, please, don’t let go of me…
‘ He knows what’s best for you, Harry… you need rest, and healing, and he’s going to give you that, and hold you all night long, you’ll be safe. You were wonderful tonight. More than I could have hoped for.’
Even though those were words he was dying to hear, it wasn’t enough. He didn’t want those hands to leave him. Draco wasn’t telling him everything. He was holding back. After all they had done that night, he was holding back on something.
‘Will you? Will we?...’
Draco’s eyes darted to Josh, sitting on the sofa next to them, his hand caressing Harry’s leg.
‘If Josh wants. If you want. It will.’
‘I want…’
But he didn’t even know how to end that sentence. What he wanted right now was for Draco to stop time and stay. What he wanted right now was to know if Draco felt like his world had been shaken and torn and turned upside down. Because Harry’s had and he didn't know how to put it back together. How to make it the way it was before. Before this.
Draco kissed his forehead, his lips warm, brushing gently against the scar and Harry closed his eyes against the welling emotion. Draco Malfoy was kissing his scar. The scar he’d insulted all of their lives.
Harry was drowning, so tired, his body on shutdown, and Draco’s touch was everything… Draco was still his whole world… it felt wrong to say goodbye. He closed his eyes just for a minute. When he opened them, he was alone with Josh.
That night, like all the others before, Josh took Harry home.