Seduction of Darkness

Disclaimer- Don’t own, don’t sue.


Seduction of Darkness
Poisoned Ink
Chapter Twenty-Four
Illusive Minds


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“You can not blame it on me,” Voldemort argued, “It is not my fault that he showed up…”

“Enough,” The King fisted the table, causing Harry to jump back in his chair.

Voldemort bit his tongue and kept his mouth closed, glaring daggers at his father. It has his father after all, and the veela throne was at stake. He would not want to upset the King even further.

“Do you realize,” The King gritted his teeth, “How much danger you have just placed this kingdom in? Another war with the vampires!? We have barely won the last one…”

Harry edged closer to Voldemort and their thighs touched slightly. The touch seemed to sooth Voldemort and he exhaled heavily, his body relaxing slightly.

“It was not of my intention,” Voldemort explained, his read eyes softening slightly.

“Of course,” The King replied with a hint of sourness, causing Taurean to fidget around his seat.

“My King,” he replied nervously, “It was not the Prince’s intention to start something without thinking. It is fate, My King, that we and the vampires would meet again.”

The King turned and stared at Taurean. It is almost natural, for the ancient blood of Veelas to believe in the god and goddesses of fate and destiny.

“Very well,” The King finally replied, his rage dispersing. “Well, then let fate have it.”

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After the meeting, Voldemort and Harry walked down the hallway in silence The King had insisted them to stay for a few more days, and did not understand when Harry suggested separate rooms.

“You have already bonded, right?” The King had commented, sounding surprised, “Why would separate rooms be necessary?”

That had sucked Harry out of all reasons. He couldn’t say anything else. After all, they have bonded. He could still feel the heavy presence of red eyes as he walked out of the room.

Voldemort, however, seemed very content with this arrangement.

Harry was shaken out of his thoughts as they stopped in front of Voldemort’s chamber.

The room seemed different than last time he had seen it. It was brighter, in a way, like a layer of dust had been removed.

“Erm…” Harry broke the silence, “I think I’ll go take a shower.”

Voldemort nodded stiffly, watching as Harry ran to the bathroom as fast as he could to avoid the awkwardness.

Harry closed the door behind him quickly and started the water numbly. How was he going to survive with the Dark Lord for several days, he didn’t know, but he was willing to make his suffering as slow as possible.

He relaxed into the water with a satisfied sigh. It has been too long since he had taken a decent bath. Harry allowed the hot water to message his skin, and closed his eyes in the soft sparkling sounds of the water.

Back in the room, the Dark Lord was in no better condition. As soon as Harry fled into the bathroom, he collapsed on the bed and buried his face in a pillow.

This afternoon’s events have been extremely awkward for both Harry and himself. First of all, Dumbledore should not have escaped. The dark lord’s hands tightened in the sheets fro a moment before loosening again. It didn’t matte. He would get Dumbledore another time, that was for sure. He just wished he didn’t have to drag Harry into his conflict with Dumbledore, no matter how impossible that is to achiever. He knew Harry still held favors to the light and it upset him whenever he sees him fighting with the light. If Harry was any other death eater, he would have been dead in an instant. But not Harry. Oh no. He would never mean to hurt his mate in any way.

Voldemort grimaced at his own thoughts. I feel sick just listening to myself, he groaned, Merlin help me.

Maybe he can get Harry something. Harry was the type for roses and chocolates and well, expensive fights, although he would never admit that last one himself. Who didn’t like a couple of diamonds and rubies around these days? He had once overheard Lucius complaining to Snape about how unreasonable his wife was when it came to diamonds. Arranged marriages never works well, it is a miracle that Lucius and Narcissa seemed to get along well.

Speaking of Harry…

Voldemort got up groggily from the bed and stared at the bathroom. Harry had been there for a long time, and no sound were coming out from the room.

He frowned as he approached the door.

“Harry?” He tapped the door lightly, “Are you well?”

No response came from the bathroom. Voldemort became more and more panicked.

“Harry?” He called out again, and pounded on the door this time, the frame of the door shaking under his force.

“Harry! I’m coming in!” He yelled for the last time and waited. When nothing answered, he stepped back and opened the door with a flick of his wand.

The bathroom was misty. The white mist was everywhere, making it hard to see. Clothes were abandoned on the floor, and lying in the bathtub, surrounded by vanilla scented water was…

“Harry?” Voldemort whispered, and knelt down next to the bathtub. His eyes traveled down to the glistening chest, sparkling in the candle light, his arousal growing.

Harry chose that moment to crack his eyes open. Emerald eyes widened at the site of the dilated red ones in front of him.

“OH!” He squealed and sank down in the water, attempting to cover himself up with the white foam floating on top.

Voldemort blinked and almost groaned in disappointment as that glistening chest disappeared under the water.

“Sorry,” Voldemort muttered, barely loud enough for Harry to cat it. Harry said something under his breath. Casting one last lustful glance at his mate, Voldemort gingerly dragged himself away from that delicious site.

Voldemort threw himself on the bed once again, his mid filled with images of his mate. What he would do to that silky smooth skin, that soft and pink mouth, begging for kisses. His memory shifted to the last time they had sex, their boding night. How Harry bucked and moaned, begging Voldemort to take him, to fuck him.

The bathroom door clicks and a very wet Harry, dressed in only a short towel around his waist emerged.

“S..sorry,” Harry gulped, and gripped the towel in his hands, “I didn’t bring any clothes…”

Voldemort growled in lust and grabbed Harry’s head, catching those pink lips with his own before Harry could finish his sentence.

Harry stood there, stunned by shock as Voldemort devoured his lips. The red eyed man slowly pulled away when he noticed Harry was not responding.

He stood with his face close to Harry’s, hands still entwined in the dark damp curls. He looked into Harry’s eyes, searching for something, anything that could be taken as permission.

Harry’s eyes flickered and Voldemort gasped as Harry closed the gap between them, his arms winding around his neck, causing the towel to drop to the floor.

Voldemort responded eagerly, nibbling on Harry’s bottom lip, snaking his tongue into Harry’s mouth, battling for dominance.

Harry moaned as Voldemort pulled him closer, the rough fabric of his trousers making wonderful frictions with his half hard cock. He fell back onto the bed as his knees hit the edge, pulling Voldemort on top of him.

Voldemort abandoned Harry’s swollen lips and latched onto his neck, sucking and nibbling as he ran his hands up and down the smooth skin of Harry’s bare thighs, smirking as Harry whimpered.

“Oh god…” Harry groaned as Voldemort flicked his hand and all of their clothing vanished. His cock was rock hard and wet, twitching slightly as Voldemort reached down to cup his balls.

“So expressive,” Voldemort murmured as he moved downwards, nibbling his way towards Harry’s nipples, which stood like metal studs, flushed with arousal. He was rewarded a cry of pleasure as he covered one of them with his lips, sucking gently.

“T…Tom,” Harry gasped, his words slurred with pleasure and pants, “Please…”

“Hmm?” Voldemort teased, brushing his hand along the hard length of Harry’s cock. “Please what?”

Harry moaned, arching his hips up to align his hard length with Voldemort’s.

“Tom!” Harry cried as Voldemort whispered a spell and circled Harry’s entrance with his finger, pushing it past the ring of muscle slowly.

“Yes?” Voldemort purred, leaning up to catch Harry’s lips again, cutting off Harry’s moans and gasps. He moved the finger in and out slowly, adding another one.

“Fuck…Tom!” Harry gasped as a third finger was added, brushing against this prostate. He brought his legs up and wrapped them around Voldemort’s waist, waves of ecstasy running through his body.

Several more minutes of finger fucking Harry was irate, pushing his hips down against those fingers, forcing them to go in as deep as they can.

“God…”

“I prefer Tom or Voldemort,” Voldemort whispered against his ear, nibbling his ear lope, “But God will do.”

“Damn it Tom! Fuck me!” Harry cried, squeezing his muscles around Voldemort’s fingers, groaning in disappointment as those fingers stopped for a moment.

“As you wish.” Voldemort said huskily, waving his hand to cover his own hard length in lube.

He nudged the entrance with the head of his cock, sliding it up and down Harry’s crack, teasing both Harry and himself.

“Tom!” Harry growled impatiently, his hips thrusting against Voldemort’s cock, trying to get more contact.

Voldemort gave up on all patience and slowly pushed his cock in Harry’s body, his eyes rolled back at the tight heat that gripped him, inch by inch. Finally he was fully imbedded in Harry. Panting, he searched frantically for Harry’s eyes for any kind of pain, but only found pleasure in the dilated green eyes.

“Move…” Harry gasped at the feeling of being filled, squeezing his muscles around Voldemort’s cock.

“Harry…” Voldemort moaned as he started to thrust shallowly, gasping at the friction.

“Harder dammit” Harry squeezed again, wiggling his hips and cried out as Voldemort’s cock brushed against his prostate. Voldemort grunted and placed his hands on Harry’s thighs, starting to pound harder and harder with every thrust, making sure his cock jammed into Harry’s prostate from some direction. Soon Harry was screaming with every thrust, flinging his head wildly as he rode the waves of pleasure.

Voldemort soon felt Harry’s body tighten and placed his hand on Harry’s cock, stroking in time with his thrusts. It only took several strokes until Harry turned rigid and came with a shout, squeezing his muscles and covering the space between their stomachs with his seed. Voldemort came shortly after as Harry’s muscles clamped down around him, grunting as he emptied his semen into Harry’s body.

Voldemort collapsed beside Harry and pulled out with a soft pop. Harry groaned at the loss and snuggled up to Voldemort, burying his head in Voldemort’s chest and wrapping his arms around him. Voldemort wrapped his arms around Harry’s waist, murmuring several slurred last words.

“I love you,” Voldemort muttered into Harry’s hair, his mind completely exhausted, surrendering to deep sleep.

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Waking can be the most fascinating experience. There was a period of time when you drift just on the edge of consciousness, warm and comfortable, unaware of the world around you. And then you open your eyes, everything goes blurry for awhile, you squint because you are not used to the light, wishing that you could stay in bed.

And then the events of previous day crashes down, jerking you awake.

Harry lay in bed with his eyes wide open, the silk sheets against his naked skin reminding him exactly what he had done before he went to sleep. Was he drunk? No, he didn’t think so. It was the water, he decided, The water must have been drugged.

He sighed, untangling himself from Voldemort and quickly grabbed a robe from the closet. Voldemort murmured in his sleep and reached out for Harry. When he couldn’t find his mate, he settled around a pillow instead, hugging it to his chest.

Harry ran a hand through his hair as he remembered last night. Voldemort seemed to have said something right before he fell asleep that he can’t quite make out. Something strangely similar to “I love you”, it seemed. He looked back to Voldemort in the bed, his black hair splayed out on his pillow. He looked nothing like a Dark Lord then, his face relaxed, free of the threatening look he wore when he was with his Death Eaters. Could Voldemort have really said…? Even after he released his prisoners?

No, Harry shook his head and scolded himself, I must be going mad.

A/N

I am writing a new story called Seventh Turbulence. It is DM/HP with a setting very similar to LOTR. It is actually “inspired” by LOTR after I’ve watched all three of them in one day. Don’t know if it’s actually an inspiration or just my fried brain. Oh well, please go read it anyway, I promise it will be good.