This is the little fic I promised my beta, Brenna. It took longer than I anticipated but she had several specific requests and I've never done this pairing. Anyway, I hope she likes it. I covered as many parameters as I could with the plot bunny that hit me.
Remember, this is my first Harry/Draco fic so be kind.
The Want of a Slave
Warning: Slave!Draco, manipulation (some say, one of my fortes)
Summary: All the surviving Death Eaters who were deemed worthy enough to spare were sold off at auction to recoup some of the financial losses of the war. Harry Potter buys Draco Malfoy.
The Want of a Slave
"Harry, are you sure you want him?"
Oh, Harry was sure all right. He had wanted Malfoy since sixth year, in many senses of the word. He had kept his desires to himself though. It wouldn't have been acceptable for the boy who lived, the now savior of the wizarding world to be lusting over his Slytherin-turned Death Eater rival.
But it was more than lust now. It had been since the first time Harry had seen him on the battlefield. His unmistakable form recognizable to Harry after watching him for two years. Every body movement had been memorized, every inflection and nuance noted and replayed night after night in Harry's fantasies.
The long graceful fingers which would stroke over Harry's skin, the silver gray eyes that would caress Harry's features as a flower starved for sunshine, the lean tall figure that would writhe beneath Harry in pleasure.
Yes, Harry had known Draco Malfoy's form at every battle and every time, Harry would surreptitiously watch and defend the enemy, intercepting curses sent his way, sending charms to shield him or move him out of the way of an on-coming hex.
Harry did that and more to preserve the life and health of his nemesis. The passion and conviction Draco fought with was a noble trait in itself. Even though his motivation was completely opposite, Harry had to admire it.
While the shades of gray were lost in a black and white war, Harry knew that Draco wasn't evil. His father, maybe, but Harry believed Draco could be saved. Not turned, Harry wouldn't hold his breath for that, but Draco could be a happy, healthy contributing member of society now that there wasn't a Dark Lord messing up everyone's future.
Now all Harry had to do was convince Draco of that fact.
"Oh yes, Hermione," Harry said as he watched Draco dragged off the platform, kicking and screaming.
All the surviving Death Eaters who were deemed worthy enough to spare were sold off at auction to recoup some of the financial losses of the war. And Harry had just bought Draco Malfoy.
"I'm sure I want him."
Draco moved through the foyer of a very grand Manor house. Even for him, it was impressive. Crystals adorned the chandelier over his head, fine metals brushed to a shine and ivory ornamentation graced the huge hearth and carpets woven from the finest threads covered the floor. It was wealth in its grandeur without being tacky. Elegant was a befitting word for the halls and rooms he was lead through the estate before he was stopped within a parlor.
"Master, I have brought the new slave," the house elf announced before popping out of the room.
"I'm not a slave," growled Draco, even though the little beast was gone.
"Lose the attitude, Malfoy. You are a slave now."
Draco spun around to see who had spoken, to see who, for all intensive purposes, had bought him.
Harry Potter leaned against the mantel of the fireplace, a brandy glass loosing held in his palm as he swirled the burgundy liquid around.
"Potter?" Damn but it had to be him. His gaze helplessly traveled over the boy wonder, noting not the fine cut and quality of the clothes, but the pull of the silk across the expanse of Potter's chest, and the stretch of the fit around the lean hips.
"You sound surprised," Potter said, drawing Draco's eyes back to rugged angles of his face.
Of course, Potter had looked bloody good when they had graduated last year, but Draco didn't remember him being put together quite so – fetchingly.
"What surprises you," he continued. "The house? The clothes?"
Draco met the famous green gaze and refused to look away. "That you actually bought someone." Draco crossed his arms. "Not very Gryffindor-like, if you ask me. Isn't that against one of the mudblood's primary ideals?"
Draco reveled in the anger that briefly crossed Potter's expression. It was quickly covered.
"Would you rather have been bought by Ron or Seamus?" Harry inquired. "I assure you, both would have paid handsomely for you and then…" he trailed off suggestively.
Unfortunately, Draco had a pretty good idea what Weasley would have done with him. "I'd rather not have been bought at all."
"All the Death Eaters worth anything were sold. You know that."
Draco snorted. "You should have just killed me, Potter. I won't be owned."
"Too late, Malfoy," said Harry, finally coming away from the fireplace. He stepped to within an arm's length. "See that collar around your pretty little neck." He gestured with his drink. "That's my personal owner's mark. You're mine now. Get used to it."
Draco fingered the band around his throat. He had been unconscious when they put it on him. His eyes fell closed as his anger returned.
This wasn't the way it was supposed to be. He, Draco, was supposed to be the one in charge. Draco was to supposed to be on the winning side. The Dark Lord may never have given Potter to him, but surely Draco would have been given something for his support.
He was a Malfoy. He was not a servant, and certainly was NOT a slave. And he would never bow to Potter. NEVER.
Draco shook himself and turned to see that irritating house elf, practically hyperventilating beside him. He looked down at his hands, which were clutching the back portion of a chair. In front of him, on the floor, was Potter, his face bloody and the arm of his shirt torn, showing more scraped skin beneath.
Potter lowered the arm, which had been raised protectively against Draco's swings.
"No," he quickly said to the elf, who moved forward. "Leave us."
"But, Master Harry," the elf squeaked.
"Leave us," he said firmly as he pushed himself to his feet.
Instinctively, Draco dropped the wood in his hands and took a step back.
"Dally," Potter said, looking down at the elf. "Draco did the damage, he will fix it."
Dally nodded and disappeared.
Harry turned back to Draco and raised his wand. By Merlin, he looked brassed off in a big way.
Draco raised his chin. "Do your worst, Potter."
"Reparo," said Harry.
The chair mended flawlessly and slid back to its place at the small table.
"Have you got that out of your system, Malfoy?"
Draco blinked. "For now," was all he could think of to say.
Harry inclined his head. "Good. Come with me."
Puzzled, Draco followed him out of the room. They moved soundlessly through the manor and up a double set of stairs.
Draco stopped in the doorway of what had to be the Master Suite. It was an open Suite, with the sleeping area on one end and a personal parlor/study on the other.
"Do come in, Malfoy," said Potter as he moved towards the huge four-posted bed.
Again, Draco was struck by the tasteful décor. Dark wood tones dominated the furniture, set off by – greens?
"This will be the primary domain of your service here," Potter announced.
Draco's head swung around from his inspection of the room to see Potter pulling off his shirt.
"I will not-"
"You will do what I say," Potter said and his expression clearly said 'Or else.' "You did the damage," he continued. "Now you will fix it."
Draco slowly stepped into the room as Potter summoned several things to a table then sat down. Approaching the table, he noticed the basin with a flannel and several vials of creams.
Draco was very confused. "I don't understand."
Potter sighed. "Look," he said. "I know you need to adjust, but the fact is, you hurt me. I'm bleeding like a stuck pig over here. Now, get over here and fix it."
Draco's jaw dropped open. "Why don't you just-"
"Because you have to do it," Harry cut him off.
"Then what?" Draco asked as he stopped in front of the table.
Harry looked up at him. "Then I will give you the rules of the house and your duties and everything will be fine."
Draco snorted, but he picked up the flannel and soaked it in the water, which was warm and he could smell the healing salves in it. After wringing it out, he reached for Potter's arm, which he lifted and began to wash off the cuts.
Potter sucked in a breath and Draco lifted his eyes, meeting the green gaze again. Closer this time, they seemed to glow with an inner heat.
"You could just give me a wand and-"
"As long as that collar is around your neck, you won't be able to do magic," Harry said softly.
"Figures," Draco muttered, returning to his task but using a softer touch. After he had covered the wounds on Potter's arm with a thick salve, he picked up the flannel again. The water had refreshed itself and was warm again.
Brushing the dark hair out of the way, Draco leaned over Harry and began to wash the blood off his face. The cut went clear down the side of head. Apparently, he had gotten Potter by surprise with the first blow.
His fist tightened a bit in the silken locks as he tilted Potter's head towards the light. It was pretty deep and it just might scar if Potter didn't take care of it with magic. Draco's hand moved down Harry's unmarred cheek to cup the jaw and turn it slightly.
His couldn't keep his gaze from moving over the stubborn line of Harry's jaw, down the smooth column of throat and across the hard planes of Harry's bare chest. Well-defined pecks sported hard rosy nipples, the expanse almost devoid of hair. Under the sculpted abs was a trace of dark hair that disappeared beneath the black trousers.
Draco swallowed and his own anatomy became interested in the view. He returned his attention to cut and once again his gaze collided with Potter's. This was a battle he did not want to have. He quickly returned his attention to the cut, spreading the healing goo over the open skin.
Once Draco was finished, Harry stood up and stretched. "I'm going to bed," he announced.
Draco was only somewhat surprised as the healing implements cleaned themselves and straightened themselves out on the table.
"Where do I sleep?" Draco demanded.
Potter shrugged. "Right here."
Draco crossed his arms. "Right where?"
Potter indicated the bed. "Here."
"Oh no." Draco shook his head. "If you think-"
"Fine, the floor then," Potter interrupted. "Anywhere in the room. Whatever you want."
He disappeared into what had to be the adjoining bath and Draco vacillated. Draco didn't quite understand it. He had bodily harmed Har – Potter, and Potter didn't punish him. He told him where to sleep and when Draco said no, he didn't retaliate or threaten.
He just –
Strutted around half-naked, parading that impeccable body in front of him as if Draco wasn't staring. Draco quickly averted his eyes as Harry – Potter got into the bed.
"Bathroom's free," he muttered, snuggling under the covers.
Bugger it. What the hell was he supposed to do?
"I don't suppose you have any pajamas?" Draco asked.
Harry gestured at the Armoire along the wall. "Help yourself," he murmured, sounding half asleep already. He probably took a pain potion though.
"Aren't you afraid I'm going to kill you while you sleep?"
"House elves have instructions," Harry said.
"If you kill me, they are to kill you back."
Draco blinked at the lump under the covers.
"Night, Draco," came a muffled voice.
Harry rolled over and looked at the pale god that was sprawled out next to him. He wondered how long Draco had agonized and groused before finally relenting and getting into the huge bed.
Porcelain skin shown in the early morning sun and it took all of Harry's control not to run his hands over that flawless cheek and through that gold spun hair. The perfectly bowed lips were parted slightly as Draco breathed evenly, deep in sleep.
Harry raised a hand and gently ran a knuckle over the slightly pointed chin. Smiling, he considered that Draco had definitely grown into it. Opening his hand, his lightly ran it down Draco's chest, opening buttons as he went. Once he had bared the pale chest, Harry couldn't resist touching the satiny skin. God, Draco was perfect, everything about him was just exquisite.
From the dark areolas, which tightened into a bud at his touch to the flat stomach, which quivered under his fingertips, Draco was perfect, and so responsive. Harry pressed his hand over the bulge in Draco's pajama bottoms to feel that, even in sleep, Draco responded so completely to stimulus.
A moan drew Harry's eyes to Draco's face. His bottom lip was pulled between his teeth and his head tilted back as Harry continued to rub Draco's erection. Lowering his head, he began to lay soft kisses on the smooth skin exposed to him.
Draco started to thrust into his hand and his head rocked on the pillow. Harry increased the pressure on his cock, and pushed the top of the silk pajamas aside with his nose so he could lick and tease a nipple. Draco arched into his mouth and thrust into his hands, his groans getting louder.
Harry bit gently on the skin under his lips, sucking it into his mouth and increased the rhythm of his strokes.
Draco breathed twice deeply then came with a shout.
"Harry," Draco shouted, his body pulsing with pleasure.
When he returned to his senses his looked up to see Harry looking down on him, a soft smile on his face.
"Good morning," Harry said.
"Good-" Draco looked around. Harry's hand was on his bared chest and the result of his rather pleasant dream was evident on his pajamas.
Draco threw himself out of the bed, glaring at Har-Potter.
"I will NOT be a sex toy!" he shrieked.
Harry sighed. "You will be anything I say you are."
"That doesn't give you the liberty to-" he cut himself off, realizing that it most certainly did. He watched Harry roll out of bed and stretch widely before turning back to face him. Struck by intimacy of the whole thing, he demanded, "Just what are the rules?"
"You can't leave the house without me. You can't hurt anyone – except me. You can't do magic, the collar won't let you. You are only required to serve me."
"By serve, you mean what exactly?" Draco asked cautiously.
"Anything that I require. Dressing, bathing, healing…" he trailed off.
Indignantly, Draco said, "I won't service you."
"Have I asked you to?"
Draco's eyes were drawn to the bulge in Harry's boxers. True, Harry hadn't asked him, but if Draco hadn't jumped out of bed so fast…
By Merlin, Harry had wanked him off. Draco had let him. Draco had enjoyed it. Even though Harry had started while he was sleeping, which wasn't exactly fair.
"Would you ask?" Draco asked, suspicious. What would Harry do now? He hadn't come.
"Would you want to?"
Again his eyes strayed to that bulge. His lips became dry and he licked them. He lifted his gaze again and couldn't help but see the gash down the side of Harry's face. Harry's expression was inscrutable, but his eyes were glowing again.
"Well what?" Draco forgot the question.
"Would you want to?" Harry sounded rather breathless.
Draco's eyes wandered over all that creamy exposed skin. Circe, he was tempted. He lifted his chin. "Certainly not," he declared.
Harry sighed and nodded. "Very well. You may as well get breakfast then. I always breakfast in here." He turned and started towards the bathroom.
"Where are you going?" Draco wished he could take it back.
Harry turned with a soft smile. "I'm going to take a shower and take care of my – er – problem. Unless you want to fix it?"
Black brows went up hopefully. Green eyes met grey again and held for breathless moments. Draco's throat was incapable of sound.
Harry sighed and turned away. When the bathroom door closed, Draco exhaled the air he wasn't aware he had been holding.
Cursing Harry's completely irrational, not to mention unnatural behavior, Draco left the room to find the kitchen. It was utterly absurd. If Harry was his slave, he'd have buggered him senseless by now. It was obvious that Harry wanted him.
It wasn't until Draco laid the tray on the table that he realized that he'd just obeyed Harry – Potter. Draco spun towards the sound of the door opening and was about to lash into Potter again when he saw the towel held to Harry's face.
"What's wrong?" Draco demanded.
Harry moved the towel showing the blood.
"Bugger," said Draco, quickly moving to the bathroom. "Sit down, I'll fix it," he called.
Once the blood was stanched again and the salve re-applied, Draco washed up in the bathroom and returned to the table.
"Why aren't you eating?" Draco demanded. "You don't expect me to feed you, do you?"
"No," Harry said, gesturing at the other chair. "I was waiting for you."
"Oh," said Draco, coloring slightly as he slid into the other chair. Only when he picked up his fork did Harry start eating. They ate in silence. It wasn't until Draco finished that he realized that the tray he had brought up had only had one plate on it.
He was about to question it when Harry got up.
"I have to go to work," he announced. "I'll be back for lunch."
Draco stood up as Harry collected his robe. "What am I supposed to do while you're gone?"
Harry looked up from the buttons. "Anything you want."
"I told you. You only have to serve me. When I'm not here, you can do anything you want," Harry said. "Read, explore the house, there is a recreation room with a billiards table."
"I have a full staff," Harry told him. "I'm sure you're used to being a man of leisure. I think there's a pool too."
Harry kissed him hard on the mouth and strode out of the room.
Draco blinked at the closed door, a hand coming up to finger his lips which tingled.
By the time lunch came around, Draco was pacing the foyer like a caged animal, which was almost the case. It was a gilded cage, but it was still a cage. Everything was as Harry had said; the library stocked with anything he could ever want, the recreation room full of gentlemanly type amusements and he'd even found the swimming pool.
But if he moved to leave the house, his collar would constrict around his throat. He got angry at a house elf who wouldn't leave him alone but the collar stopped him from throwing a vase at it.
Draco was in a rage and it was all Harry Potter's fault. He couldn't be a slave. He wouldn't be a slave. He was a Malfoy.
He brought Potter his tray in the small dining room.
"How was your morning?" Harry asked brightly.
It tipped the scales for Draco.
With a growl, he dumped the entire contents of the tray in Potter's lap. Harry screamed, quickly standing up.
"Just peachy," said Draco.
House elves instantly surrounded them and had the mess cleaned up, but Harry stopped them with his hand as they moved to assist him.
Draco's eyes went wide when he saw the steam coming off Potter's trousers. He had forgotten that the elf said that the soup was very hot. Swallowing hard, he raised his eyes to meet Harry's expecting to see the extent of his anger. Instead he saw pain.
"Help me to my room please."
Draco wrapped an arm around Harry's waist, pulling Harry's arm around his neck and together they hobbled to the Master bedroom. Once there, Draco laid Harry down and rushed to get the burn cream.
"Please just heal it, Potter," Draco pleaded, fighting to get the soaked trousers from his body.
"Can't," breathed Harry.
"Why bloody not?"
"The rules say I can't."
"You did it, you have to fix it?"
"Yeah, but can't you-"
"No, I can't," he said, breathing deeply. "Please, it hurts."
Bugger. Draco finally got the clothes out of the way and he gasped at the angry red patches on Harry's thighs and stomach. Carefully, he pulled away the boxers and groaned at the fiercely red penis.
"I'm sorry," Draco whispered, working quickly. The burn salve was the best there was, fortunately, and healed almost completely on contact. When he looked back up at Harry's face, Draco noticed he must have passed out.
There was nothing worse that a burnt willy. Draco allowed his eyes to admire the form stretched out before him. Harry's shirt was open, his arms limp as his sides and the rest of him gloriously nude.
His proud member was the proper color again and Draco had to admit being impressed. Dragging his eyes away, he again sought Harry's face. Crawling over the bed to look down on the sleeping man, Draco sighed.
If only their roles were reversed. He touched his collar tentatively then moved the fingers to brush over Harry's lips. He stroked the full bottom lip, wondering what it would be like to suck on it. It quivered and Draco continued to drag that exploring finger over Harry's jaw and down his throat.
A soft moan came from Harry's lips and Draco smirked. He opened a hand and ran it over the hard bare chest, brushing against a nipple that pebbled. With a glance, Draco learned that Harry was indeed interested in his ministrations. He continued to gently caress the masculine surfaces of Harry's chest and stomach watching as Harry's breathing became increasingly labored and his cock became increasingly engorged.
Draco began to wonder if there was any merit to the whole sex toy idea. Although at this particular moment, he was not the sex toy. He leaned over Harry, watching his face and feeling the sweet breath against his own lips.
Impulsively, his leaned further until their lips touched. A moan was expelled into Draco's mouth and suddenly he found himself on his back, Harry's hands buried in his hair. Harry quickly took over the kiss, winding his tongue over Draco's, coaxing a return moan from the luscious mouth.
Draco pushed the shirt off Harry's shoulders as his tongue continued to battle with Harry's. His hands moved over the now totally naked form above him, pulling Harry's hips into his own. In response, Harry moaned and ground his pelvis into Draco's.
Lifting his head, Harry looked down at Draco, his eyes glowing again. Before Draco could think, Harry had torn open his shirt and began a passionate assault on his throat. Lips and tongue and teeth moved down his neck, biting here and sucking there. Draco groaned as Harry's mouth moved again, circling his nipple and teasing it to a hard point. When Harry latched on to it, Draco thrust his hips into Harry's.
Harry moved down again, his mouth wreaking havoc as he explored the contours and crevices of Draco's stomach and below. Deft fingers opened a path for the exploring mouth and Draco cried out when those swollen pink lips wrapped around his cock and began to tease the leaking tip.
Draco felt his trousers yanked down but couldn't bring himself to care as that heavenly mouth continued to suck. Suddenly the heat was gone and Draco opened his eyes to stare up at Harry. Harry rocked forward, rubbing their erections together and Draco groaned again.
Harry's mouth claimed his again and Draco relished the hot kisses fanning the flame as they continue to thrust into each other. Draco knew he wasn't going to last too much longer and he sucked that lower lip into his mouth, just as he had wanted to.
Chewing and tasting that mouth, he felt a hand encircle both of their cocks, stroking them together and they thrust as one. The added friction was all it took and they both cried out their pleasure together.
Draco breathed deeply, pulling himself together after one of the strongest climaxes of his life.
"Thank you," he heard against his throat.
Draco froze. Bugger, what had he done? "For what?" he asked as mildly as he could.
"For fixing it."
Draco shoved at Harry's shoulders. "Get off," he growled.
Harry lifted his head and Draco almost melted. His hair was as untidy as always, his lips were passion swollen and his eyes shining were shining with – something.
He tilted his head. "What?" Harry asked.
"Ju-just get off," Draco ordered.
Harry sighed. "Whatever you want." He moved off the bed and grabbed his wand. He cleaned them both with a spell then peered down at Draco. Draco quickly grabbed a blanket and pulled it over his semi-naked form. "You're beautiful, you know," Harry said.
He turned away and Draco watched him get dressed. Inch by inch of that magnificent body was covered piece by piece and Draco almost sighed wistfully. When Harry entered the bathroom, Draco leapt out of the bed and hurriedly repaired his appearance.
Not a sex toy. Not a sex toy, he kept telling himself.
Harry returned to the bedroom and walked purposely up to Draco. Taking his face in his hands, he gently kissed Draco's mouth.
"I'll be home for dinner," he said, then he was gone again.
With a growl of frustration, Draco picked up the nearest breakable object and hurled it at the door.
When Harry got home from work, he handed his cloak to Dally. "Where is my new slave?" he inquired innocently enough.
"Master Harry's guest is in the library, Master," Dally replied with a elven smirk.
"Behave, Dally," Harry said quietly. "Was there any trouble?"
"Nothing that Dally couldn't handle," the elf replied. "Dally is a good house elf."
"Indeed," said Harry. He turned towards the library and stopped as he caught sight of himself in the mirror. The gash was healing nicely but it was going to leave a permanent scar down his cheek.
He traced a finger down it and sighed. The things he had to do…
Opening the double doors of library, Harry automatically ducked as a book sailed past his head.
"Draco?" Harry said, ducking another volume – this one the size of a tome.
"You can't do this to me," Draco ranted, hurling another book.
"What? What's wrong?" Harry rushed in and grabbed Draco around the arms to calm him. "Tell me, love."
Draco struggled. "Do you have any idea what this is like?" He finally pulled free, shoving Harry away from him.
Harry crashed backwards into a shelf which teetered precariously until it finally toppled over, incidentally on top of Harry.
"Bloody hell," was all Harry could manage before blackness took him.
He woke up submerged to his neck in a hot bath, surrounded by healing foam and reclined against something very smooth. Arms were wrapped around him, hands rubbing him all over.
"Are you all right, Ha-Potter?" a quavering voice said from behind his ear. Harry almost groaned as the breath blew across his ear.
"I think so," Harry said. "What are you doing?"
"I couldn't rub this stuff on your bruised muscles from outside the tub, so I had to get it," Draco said sharply. "But don't get any funny ideas."
"My ideas are far from funny," Harry muttered, laying his head back against Draco's shoulder. Draco's cheek rubbed gently across his and Harry sighed.
"Come on," Draco ordered. "Let's get you to bed."
Draco gingerly helped Harry from the bath and toweled him dry. Harry closed his eyes as he felt those graceful fingers sliding over his skin to remove the moisture from the bath.
If Draco noticed the raging erection, he didn't say anything but Harry had to wonder why he spent so much time down there if he wasn't interested. The bloody prat was going to kill him yet.
Harry made it to the bed and languished into the cushiony softness of the mattress with a moan. Draco was instantly at his side, leaning over him.
"What is it?" he asked.
Grateful that Draco was still naked, he reached up and ran a hand down the silken skin. "It's nothing," Harry said.
Draco scowled. "Don't lie to me, Potter. I'm not in the mood."
Harry sighed deeply. "Just a slight swelling."
"A slight-?" Draco's eyes swept over him and Harry moaned as if that gaze was a feather light touch. He dropped onto the bed beside him with a grunt. "Why don't you just do it?" Draco growled, obviously figuring out what Harry meant. "Stop tormenting me and just take me."
Harry rolled to his side to watch at Draco's face. So beautiful. "I won't do anything you don't want, Draco."
"I didn't want you to buy me," he spat. "I didn't want to be put up on that platform like a piece of chattel."
"That was beyond my control," Harry said softly.
"You didn't have to buy me," Draco groused.
Rolling on top of Draco, he combed his fingers through his golden tresses. Even damp, his hair was silky smooth and delightful to the touch. "And let someone else take you?" Harry asked. "Someone who didn't care?"
"And you care, I suppose?" Draco dared. Harry raised his eye brows and Draco had the grace to flush. "Well I guess you must." He traced the path of the cut down Harry's face.
"I want you, Draco," Harry said, dropping little kisses on his face. "So bad it hurts."
"I don't want to hurt you anymore, Harry," Draco whispered. Harry lifted his head again and studied Draco's expression. Was it surrender he found in those silver eyes?
"Then what do you want, Draco?"
Draco moved sensuously beneath him, his hips taunting Harry's erection sinfully. "I want you, Harry," he said hoarsely. "I want you now."
Harry closed his eyes against the heat that flooded him with those words and he crushed his mouth over Draco's.
Draco responded eagerly and Harry's spirit soared through the clouds. Yielding had been one thing, but willing and enthusiastic was enough to make Harry burst. He fought his control as he mapped out Draco's firm flesh with his mouth, retracing old paths and finding new ones which made Draco squirm and make the most wonderful noises.
Draco was gasping for breath by the time Harry's mouth once again enveloped his cock. "Harry, now. Please, now."
Harry licked the impatient pillar from stem to tip, flicking his tongue across the slit. "Not yet, love." He stroked the inside of the pale thighs lovingly.
"I'll kill you, you bastard," Draco breathed. "Hurry up."
Actually hearing the words urged him on. His hearts desire lay open for him to claim. He quickly grabbed the lube and began preparing his lover. Kissing around the purple erection, he inserted his fingers one by one, stretching and stroking Draco from the inside. When he hit Draco's prostrate, Draco thrashed his head.
"Now, Harry, please."
Straightening, Harry shoved a pillow under Draco's hips and leaned over him. "Are you ready for me, love?"
Draco growled something that could have been a yes, but Harry considered it was probably another threat. Slowly, he eased the tip into the prepared opening and held his breath as the warm tightness beckoned him like welcoming blanket.
Inch by inch he slid into the channel until he was bullocks deep in Draco's heat. He let out his breath and closed his eyes, savoring the feel of Draco surrounding him, welcoming him.
"Move, damn it," Draco rasped.
Harry leaned over him and met the grey gaze. Draco's eyes were lit like molten silver, desire and trust shining from within.
And demanding impatience. Harry pulled out and thrust in, watching Draco bow to the sensations. Again, he pistoned in then out, this time hitting the spot that made Draco writhe.
The hot grip around his cock and Draco's exquisite face in the throes of passion insured that Harry wouldn't last as long as he would have liked. He leaned in and kissed Draco fiercely, then increased his rhythm. His fingers circled Draco's weeping cock and together, they thrust themselves over the crest into nirvana.
As their breathing returned to normal and Harry was laying on his side next to Draco, he reached over and, with a muttered spell, unlocked the collar.
Draco blinked. "What are you doing?"
Harry pulled the golden circlet away from Draco's neck and placed it on the bedside table. "Taking off the collar."
"I can see that," Draco said. "Why?"
"Because I love you, Draco," said Harry. "I have for a while now and I want you to be with me. I want you to be my lover, my friend, my partner – in everything."
Draco smiled but it was sad. "I can't love you as a slave, Harry." Harry dropped into the bed, staring at the ceiling. "You know you still own me."
"I know. But here," Harry swore, "Here, in this house, you can be free. Free to use magic, free to do what ever you want. Even kill me without retribution if you want."
Draco snorted at the idea. "And I'll be able to go out?"
"Yes, where ever you want," Harry promised.
"But I'll have to wear the collar," Draco specified.
"Only when we go out. To protect you. They'll take you back if I set you free."
Draco laid back into the pillows. "I don't know," he murmured plaintively.
Harry leaned over him. "You can entertain, throw parties," he coaxed him. "Redecorate, add on. This is a big house."
Draco clucked his tongue. "Just because I like men, doesn't mean I'm a complete pouf."
Repressing his laughter, Harry grinned. "I just want you to be happy."
"Whatever I want, eh?" Draco asked, a hint of mischief in his eyes.
"Whatever you want," Harry swore.
Draco rolled towards him, throwing an arm over Harry's chest. "Sounds promising," he murmured.
Harry smiled as Draco nestled into his chest. There was a reason why he was almost a Slytherin.