Summary: Sequel to Chains and Whips Excite Me.
Warnings: BDSM, PWP, fluff, slash
Rating: M for explicit sex scenes and male/male relationships
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters. No copyright infringement intended.
A/N: Story starts out in Voldemort's POV. Sorry it took so long to post!
Ropes and Gags Enthrall Me
There is nothing better than shoving your dick ruthlessly into a hot, wet mouth, Voldemort decided. Well, except shoving it into a hot, tight ass.
He was standing in the dimly lit dungeon that he had been visiting almost every night for the past two months. After that first initial night with Harry Potter, the torture sessions had become a near-daily experience. The delectable boy kneeling in front of him hummed in the back of his throat, causing Voldemort to thrust harder as the vibrations enveloped his cock. He curled his fingers into the soft black hair and yanked Harry's head away. It would not do to come too soon, and Harry's mouth was talented enough to make that happen.
He pulled the boy up and shoved him back onto the table that he had summoned into the room. Harry was panting heavily and his lips were red and swollen. Voldemort picked up a set of ropes off of the floor and watched in amusement as the boy's cock twitched in anticipation. He waved his wand and the ropes tied themselves to the table legs before wrapping around Harry's wrists and ankles, leaving him spread out for Voldemort to take. And take he did.
Voldemort ran his hands deftly over Harry's abdomen. He ghosted past the area that wanted his attention the most and slid down the smooth thighs. It was amazing how little hair the teenager had; just a trail of thick black curls from his bellybutton to his crotch. It teased Voldemort and he bent to nuzzle his nose in the soft curls. A moan reached his ears and he looked up to see Harry's eyes darken with lust. He stared for a moment, caught in the endless swirl of emotion that swam in those emerald green orbs.
Voldemort leaned back to observe his work. Harry's smooth, tan skin was now marred with love bites from head to toe, and his hair was fanned out around his head, like a dark halo christening the fallen angel. Voldemort hadn't thought it possible, but the boy's hair was even messier than usual. He watched as Harry squirmed under his assessing gaze and chaffed his wrists in the process. The ropes were not covered with plastic for comfort and this caused quite a bit of brush burn on Harry's wrists and ankles. Voldemort drank in Harry's moan, pleased that he could cause the boy to come undone, even in an indirect way. He had been baffled by Harry's response that first night two months ago. True, he had planned to have his way with the little minx no matter his response, but it was a welcome surprise that Harry liked it. More than liked it; he seemed to live for it ever since Voldemort had brought him into the wonderful world of S&M. Bondage was made for Harry Potter, he thought as he conjured another rope.
Harry gasped and his eyes glued onto the restraining object. Voldemort smirked and began to wrap the lengthy cord around Harry's body in a complicated design. He had studied numerous diagrams for this night, and planned to give Harry the ultimate bondage experience. Hell, if the boy responded favorably, he might even add a gag. When the web of ropes was completed, Voldemort once again stepped back to observe his work.
He felt like he might have died and gone to heaven. This was better than any of the other torture sessions, and there had been a lot. Just when Harry was beginning to fly to "Pleasure Island," Voldemort had brandished another set of ropes. Harry had never felt like this before. It was frightening how easily the man could take away his control. Harry loved it. Voldemort's dark crimson eyes scanned his body and the intensity of it made Harry feel as if he were baring his soul. With the direction his thoughts had been taking lately, he probably was. He and Voldemort had been having some excellent conversations recently—after the mind-blowing sex of course. The man proved that he was perfectly sane with his intelligent and witty remarks. After two months of seeing nothing but Voldemort, Harry couldn't help but fall for him. It didn't help that the man had taken a potion to change himself back into a sexy twenty-year-old Tom Riddle. One of those beautiful, slender hands reached out and tweaked Harry's nipple. He squirmed, and the result was fantastic. The complicated web of ropes that Voldemort had weaved around him now chaffed Harry in all his most sensitive spots: his back, chest, and tender thighs.
"Oh God," he gasped at the overwhelming sensation.
Voldemort smirked and bent his head to lave at the now pert nipple. He bit down roughly and Harry had to bite his lip to stifle a scream. The pain ran up and down his nerves in little jolts, leaving him shivering. He wiggled and moaned and was on the verge of cumming just from the ropes coupled with the abuse to his nipples. Being tied up and out of control was exhilarating; to just lie back and enjoy the ride. When he was with Voldemort, there was no pressure to be someone he was not and no decisions to make. Harry liked that someone else was in control for once. His nipple was released as Voldemort relocated his tongue into Harry's mouth. He slid his fingers into the mop of black hair and yanked on it; tugging and twisting his fingers in it painfully. Harry groaned into Voldemort's mouth and thanked the stars for his sensitive scalp. Then the man above him began to rub himself against Harry, and all thoughts were blown from his mind.
The boy brake off the rough kiss and gasped, "Oh, yes, more, please!"
He loved it when Harry begged shamelessly. In fact, there was little that Voldemort didn't love about him. That was something that was bothering him; he had never thought he was capable of loving, but he was starting to feel more than just sadistic pleasure when he fucked the boy. Thankfully, Harry was so lost in the feel of him that he never noticed the way Voldemort's expression would change form lust to something gentler, and he planned to keep it that way. He was a Slytherin after all; he would never put his feelings on the line like that. Though he would openly express pleasure.
"You want more, you say?" he purred and licked the shell of Harry's ear.
"Mmmmhmm," the boy hummed and shivered as Voldemort blew hot breath on the same spot. God, he was so responsive.
He shoved three fingers into Harry's mouth and savored the feel of that talented tongue wetting them. Abruptly, he pulled out his hand and shoved all three dripping digits into the puckered entrance at Harry's ass.
"Ahhhhh!" the teenager screamed and arched his back as much as possible whilst being tied. The movement caused the ropes on his body to shift, revealing bright red lines in their place. Voldemort paused and stared, transfixed, at the view; the red lines were more beautiful than the love bites on that soft skin.
"Don't stop!" Harry whined, and Voldemort snapped out of his trance. He began to move his fingers at a faster pace; if he didn't get inside Harry soon, he wasn't going to last long. Not two minutes later, Harry was impaling himself on the digits. Voldemort curled his fingers in the way that he new would drive Harry crazy with need.
"Fuck! Right there!"
Voldemort could wait no longer. He positioned himself between Harry's spread legs and thrust home. Harry's eyes screwed shut in pleasure, his mouth opened in a silent moan. They began moving frantically, neither of them willing to wait anymore.
"Voldemort, Voldemort, Voldemort," he was being driven mad by the reverent way Harry said his name. Suddenly, the boy was cumming without any stimulation to his weeping cock.
"Love you!" Voldemort stiffened. Not, mind you, in shock; he was too far gone to really register what Harry had said. Thus, instead of frightening him, the sudden confession had the brilliant effect of pulling him further into climax. As his breathing returned to normal, he looked into green eyes filled with battling emotions: anxiety, fear, and love. Love!
"Harry," Voldemort breathed. Could it be possible? Could someone actually love a Dark Lord (besides Bellatrix)? Harry sighed and seemed to come to a decision.
"I love you. Can you blame me? Our conversations proved that you're more intelligent than you appear. You are funny, great at sex, and most of all, you accept me for myself; not some omnipresent hero," he smirked," so, yes, I fell in love with you, you sexy, sadistic bastard."
Voldemort flicked his hand and the ropes binding Harry disappeared. Before he could regret his confession, Harry was gathered into the Dark Lord's arms and kissed passionately. This time, tongues did not battle; they soothed and tangled sweetly. Finally, when the two were sure they had conveyed how they felt, they pulled apart. Voldemort leaned his forehead against Harry's and looked into his eyes.
"I love you, too, you masochistic brat."
Well, that's the end of this mini series thingy. I think the first one had more S&M and was better, but tell me what you thought! And sorry it ended fluffy like that. Please review!