Pet
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
33
Views:
33,134
Reviews:
106
Recommended:
3
Currently Reading:
5
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
33
Views:
33,134
Reviews:
106
Recommended:
3
Currently Reading:
5
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Twenty Seven
~*~*~*~*
TWENTY-SEVEN
~*~*~*~*
Harry warmed the massage oil in his hands before his talented fingers began to relax the tense, knotted muscles in Lucius’ back. It had been a long, hard day for the white blond wizard. After the funeral, select friends, family, and business associates attended Narcissa’s wake. Draco’s fiancée fulfilled her first role as a future Malfoy bride and stepped in as hostess for the Ministry of Magic and Society mourners; Harry resumed his duties within the Death Eater faction.
Lucius keenly felt the loss of his wife; after so many years together; she was more than just an ornament on his arm. She had always offered astute observations and suggestions in his rise to power; there was intelligence behind her beautiful façade, but ruthlessness as well. He would miss her, but he would not mourn her. The torture of his defenseless concubine and her attempt at infanticide had destroyed his last vestige of affection for her. It was good Draco had stopped his mother; Lucius would not have offered as merciful a death.
Harry’s hands worked out the knots in his spine and he felt himself relax into the bedding. He rolled over at the quiet command and purred in contentment when the talented fingers began their magic on his aching feet.
Too soon it was over and a soft cloth removed the excess massage oil. Harry slid off the bed and reached for his robe, intending to leave his drowsy companion. Lucius’ heavily lidded eyes opened at the loss of contact.
“You have wonderful hands, Harry.”
Harry looked at him, still startled when the man used his birth name. Lucius let out a chuckle.
“Your friend, Mark Rosier, reminded me that you do have a name.”
Harry smiled crookedly; warmed at the mention of a friend he would never see again. Knowing the way pureblood wizards thought, someone had probably oblivated Mark to protect the hidden Wizarding world.
“Stay with me?” There was no command in the deep voice. “I don’t want to be alone tonight.”
~*~*~*~
Wide-awake, Harry curled against Lucius’ body. He could tell from the older man’s breathing that he, too, was awake.
“Master, may I ask you a question?”
“What is it, Pet?” Lucius toyed with the shell of Harry’s ear.
“Why did you insist I wear the emerald cloak pin to Lady Malfoy’s funeral? Sally was amused by what she termed ‘your blatant breech of etiquette’.”
Lucius shifted, pulling Harry onto his chest; he kissed the tip of his nose.
“I am a wealthy wizard. I am a powerful wizard. With Narcissa’s death, I am the target of every unmarried witch and her mother. To the politically and socially astute, the gem will signify that I am not in the market for another wife. It will signify I have already chosen her successor.”
Harry wasn’t sure whether to be pleased or horrified. No wonder Sally found it funny. It was much more than a minor breach of etiquette; Lucius may as well have set a torch to the book. Lord Malfoy had paraded his whore and his bastard daughter through his wife’s funeral. Harry’s ears burned at the thought of all the Howlers the act would trigger and wondered what Aunt Petunia would have said.
~*~*~*~
Lucius awoke to a warm weight on his chest and hair tickling his chin. He shifted slightly and felt smooth skin beneath his fingers. Narcissa? No, not Narcissa. Narcissa had always smelled of lilacs and heather; this was a muskier scent, a masculine scent. Harry.
Harry moved in his sleep and Lucius could feel the bulge of an early morning erection against his thigh. He became aware of a matching erection growing between his own legs. He should just push the slight figure aside and dress for work, but it had been months since he had pleasured himself with Harry’s beautiful body. He began to rouse and arouse his concubine with nips and kisses. The Ministry of Magic could wait a few more hours; he was, after all, still in mourning.
~*~*~*~
Teased almost to the point of orgasm, Harry was helped to his hands and knees, his channel already stretched and needy. Mindful of the fact it had been more than eight months since Harry had had intercourse, Lucius breached him slowly, easing his way into the tight channel. Harry keened at the pain of entry and the familiar fullness.
Setting a slow pace, Lucius adjusted his speed and his angle; he felt Harry begin to tense. Reaching beneath the smaller wizard, he applied pressure to the base of Harry’s cock to prevent his orgasm. Lucius kissed his shoulder in response to the soft growl of frustration. The dark wizard could feel his own pleasure building; he wrapped his arm around the slender hips and began to pound into the sprite, anxious for his own release.
~*~*~*~*
TWENTY-SEVEN
~*~*~*~*
Harry warmed the massage oil in his hands before his talented fingers began to relax the tense, knotted muscles in Lucius’ back. It had been a long, hard day for the white blond wizard. After the funeral, select friends, family, and business associates attended Narcissa’s wake. Draco’s fiancée fulfilled her first role as a future Malfoy bride and stepped in as hostess for the Ministry of Magic and Society mourners; Harry resumed his duties within the Death Eater faction.
Lucius keenly felt the loss of his wife; after so many years together; she was more than just an ornament on his arm. She had always offered astute observations and suggestions in his rise to power; there was intelligence behind her beautiful façade, but ruthlessness as well. He would miss her, but he would not mourn her. The torture of his defenseless concubine and her attempt at infanticide had destroyed his last vestige of affection for her. It was good Draco had stopped his mother; Lucius would not have offered as merciful a death.
Harry’s hands worked out the knots in his spine and he felt himself relax into the bedding. He rolled over at the quiet command and purred in contentment when the talented fingers began their magic on his aching feet.
Too soon it was over and a soft cloth removed the excess massage oil. Harry slid off the bed and reached for his robe, intending to leave his drowsy companion. Lucius’ heavily lidded eyes opened at the loss of contact.
“You have wonderful hands, Harry.”
Harry looked at him, still startled when the man used his birth name. Lucius let out a chuckle.
“Your friend, Mark Rosier, reminded me that you do have a name.”
Harry smiled crookedly; warmed at the mention of a friend he would never see again. Knowing the way pureblood wizards thought, someone had probably oblivated Mark to protect the hidden Wizarding world.
“Stay with me?” There was no command in the deep voice. “I don’t want to be alone tonight.”
~*~*~*~
Wide-awake, Harry curled against Lucius’ body. He could tell from the older man’s breathing that he, too, was awake.
“Master, may I ask you a question?”
“What is it, Pet?” Lucius toyed with the shell of Harry’s ear.
“Why did you insist I wear the emerald cloak pin to Lady Malfoy’s funeral? Sally was amused by what she termed ‘your blatant breech of etiquette’.”
Lucius shifted, pulling Harry onto his chest; he kissed the tip of his nose.
“I am a wealthy wizard. I am a powerful wizard. With Narcissa’s death, I am the target of every unmarried witch and her mother. To the politically and socially astute, the gem will signify that I am not in the market for another wife. It will signify I have already chosen her successor.”
Harry wasn’t sure whether to be pleased or horrified. No wonder Sally found it funny. It was much more than a minor breach of etiquette; Lucius may as well have set a torch to the book. Lord Malfoy had paraded his whore and his bastard daughter through his wife’s funeral. Harry’s ears burned at the thought of all the Howlers the act would trigger and wondered what Aunt Petunia would have said.
~*~*~*~
Lucius awoke to a warm weight on his chest and hair tickling his chin. He shifted slightly and felt smooth skin beneath his fingers. Narcissa? No, not Narcissa. Narcissa had always smelled of lilacs and heather; this was a muskier scent, a masculine scent. Harry.
Harry moved in his sleep and Lucius could feel the bulge of an early morning erection against his thigh. He became aware of a matching erection growing between his own legs. He should just push the slight figure aside and dress for work, but it had been months since he had pleasured himself with Harry’s beautiful body. He began to rouse and arouse his concubine with nips and kisses. The Ministry of Magic could wait a few more hours; he was, after all, still in mourning.
~*~*~*~
Teased almost to the point of orgasm, Harry was helped to his hands and knees, his channel already stretched and needy. Mindful of the fact it had been more than eight months since Harry had had intercourse, Lucius breached him slowly, easing his way into the tight channel. Harry keened at the pain of entry and the familiar fullness.
Setting a slow pace, Lucius adjusted his speed and his angle; he felt Harry begin to tense. Reaching beneath the smaller wizard, he applied pressure to the base of Harry’s cock to prevent his orgasm. Lucius kissed his shoulder in response to the soft growl of frustration. The dark wizard could feel his own pleasure building; he wrapped his arm around the slender hips and began to pound into the sprite, anxious for his own release.
~*~*~*~*