Blood Whore 23
Title: Blood Whore 23
Author: enchanted_jae
Characters: Harry/Draco, omc
Rating: NC17
Warning(s): Explicit sex
Word count: 1140
Disclaimer: Characters are the property of JK Rowling, et al. This fic/drabble was written for fun, not for profit.
Written for: Birthday gift for smirkingcat, who requested an update to Blood Whore
Summary: Welcome to France
Draco couldn't have heard Potter correctly. He straightened slowly, mindful of the twinges in his body. He retrieved his wand and cast a cleansing and refreshing charm on himself before dragging his trousers up and fastening them again. Only then did Draco speak.
"Holiday?" he asked, echoing Potter's pronouncement. "What sort of holiday? Where?"
"Perhaps I wish to surprise you," said Potter. The tips of his fangs showed in a smirk.
Draco's brow furrowed in annoyance. "Perhaps I need to know what to pack."
"Bold of you to assume you'll need anything besides lubricant."
"Sorry?" Draco gasped. He silently cursed his cock, which had the nerve to twitch.
Potter snickered. "We'll be guests at a villa owned by Gwendolin in the south of France. Pack accordingly."
Draco experienced a mild thrill. He loved France, and it had been years since he'd had a proper holiday. Even though he'd have to tolerate Potter's oppressive presence by night, his days would be free to do as he wished.
"Will Gwendolin be joining us?" he asked.
Potter's expression darkened. "No, there will be no other vampires in attendance," he said. "At least, that's what Gwendolin has promised me. She'd best not go back on her word."
It gave Draco a petty sense of satisfaction to know that Potter was still miffed that he'd provided blood to Gwendolin before. If he'd wanted a blood donating virgin, he should have chosen someone else.
Draco was wise enough not to let his expression give away his thoughts. "When do we leave?" he asked, already mentally going through what he wished to pack.
"One hour."
"One hour?!" cried Draco. "That doesn't give me nearly enough time!"
"Then I suggest you get busy," Potter said with a humorless grin.
Draco had most of his preparations completed by the time Potter reappeared and announced their Portkey was about to activate. At least Draco had the essentials packed. He reckoned he could buy anything else he needed once they were in France.
Potter wrapped one hand around a small Eiffel Tower statue and the other around Draco's upper arm. Draco experienced the familiar tug in his core before finding himself in a spartan foyer. He had grown so accustomed to house-elves that it was a surprise when a human servant bustled forward to greet them.
"Gentlemen, if you'll follow me, I will show you to your suite," said the man. He was smartly dressed in a suit and tie. Draco guessed he was the butler, but he was not so gauche as to ask.
Once they were ensconced in their suite of rooms, Draco began unpacking
"Leave that for later," said Potter. "We need to christen the bed."
"Christen the bed?!" cried Draco.
"It's either that or the balcony," Potter said. "I'll leave the choice up to you."
Draco could feel his features drawing into a frown, and he made a conscious effort to school his expression into impassivity. "The bed," he said, keeping his voice even. Despite the fact that he was annoyed, his body was already beginning to react to the idea of a shag.
"Get undressed," said Potter, "unless you'd like me to tear your clothing off?"
An inappropriate thrill of desire slithered up Draco's spine, but he shook his head wordlessly and began removing his clothing.
"If you'd like some extra spending money for tomorrow, put on a show for me," Potter drawled.
Draco raised his chin as he unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt. "I have plenty of my own money."
"Prat."
The offer was tempting, but Draco had his pride. He finished undressing slowly, not taking his time to give Potter a show, but rather to take care with his clothing. Once nude, he stood in front of the vampire and awaited further instructions.
Potter straightened from where he'd been slouching against the bureau. "On the bed," he said. "Do you want it face to face or Crup style?"
Draco quelled the snarky retort that came to mind and said only, "Crup style." At least that way, he wouldn't have to look at Potter.
Potter took two steps closer and dropped his voice to a seductive purr. "It's more difficult to bite you in that position."
Draco gulped, but he was determined to stick with his convictions. He settled on the bed, taking a moment to appreciate the soft, luxurious duvet, then rolled to his stomach and drew his knees up beneath himself.
"Mm, I do love the sight of a pert arse in the air."
That glib comment got Draco's hackles up, but he bit back an angry rejoinder. Potter would have his way no matter what, and riling him was never wise. Draco heard the rustle of clothing, followed by the sensation of the bed dipping beneath Potter's weight. He used a wandless lubrication spell on himself, not trusting Potter to extend the courtesy.
Cool hands palmed Draco's arse, thumbs spreading him open. "Slick and ready for me, I see," he mused. "Is is my cock you want, or my teeth?"
Draco quivered in reaction. "Both," he rasped, shifting to spread his legs farther apart.
Without warning, Potter prodded Draco's hole and thrust into him. Draco clenched his jaw so that only a strangled cry escaped him. He clutched the duvet in both fists, sucked in a breath, and let it out slowly. As Draco relaxed, the discomfort eased. Potter drew back and thrust in again, repeating the motion until he'd set a steady tempo. It was stimulating, but Draco needed more.
"Potter," he huffed, pushing back to meet the next thrust.
Potter responded by grasping Draco's upper arms and drawing him up so that he was kneeling in front of the vampire. Potter bent his head, and warm lips skated over Draco's throat. Just as Draco thought Potter intended to make him beg, the vampire struck. Fangs sank into Draco's throat, piercing the fragile skin in search of the blood pulsing below the surface.
"Ungh," Draco groaned, flailing for something to hold onto, something to anchor him. He ended up crossing his arms and clutching at Potter's hands where they still gripped his biceps. Draco was close, so close to release. He reached down with his right hand and gave his erect cock a tug. That was all the extra stimulation he needed to propel him into climax.
Once his muscles went slack, Draco would have slumped forward had Potter not still been holding him up. Potter raised his head, retracting his fangs and swiping at the wounds on Draco's throat. He resumed thrusting until he achieved his own release. He nipped the lobe of Draco's ear before pulling out.
Draco dropped forward, sprawling across the bed as he waited for his breathing and heart rate to even out. He hissed in annoyance when Potter smacked his bare arse.
"Welcome to France!"