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Draco notes the feel of beard on his cheeks. It was soft, prickly, and arousing as it was accompanied by lips slowly caressing his lower jaws, the hollow in his throat to the place where his neck meets the shoulder. Draco felt like he was burning up, the arms circling around him were fiercely roaming around his body, owning and squeezing the skin as if testing if it would break.
He gasps with every murmur of his name. The eyes that look into his, scream worship, cherish, and appreciation. Draco smiles in amazement. He found what he was chasing for. Unhurried affection, not like the kisses in bars, in apartments only to be gone by daylight. He was only hoping for a quick vacation, but not like this. Draco never expected this.
Harry was a lumberjack, living in a secluded cabin in the middle of woods of South Ontario, Canada. The place is currently unreachable, and the closest reception has to be hiked after his line was cut off in a storm. Draco who accidentally turned in the wrong direction has indeed stumbled into the specimen of wild Eastern Prickly Cactus but ended up lost, and stranded while also managing to strain his ankle after trying to climb a tree in desperate need of a reception.
He was then found lying a few meters away from his cabin, almost passed out.
He admits that it was love at first sight. Draco has a type, and this one checks all the boxes, what with his green eyes, manly beard, with his brown hair, and rippling muscles. Bonus for the ax he was carrying. His bloody hands.
Of course, his delirious mind decided that it was the time to operate as if he was a wanton princess being saved. Draco allowed himself to be carried as if he was a sack of vegetables, his backside absolutely bloody murdered after being treated so harshly and thighs harshly pinched in punishment after Draco tried his damndest to communicate his absolute proposition to be fucked in a tree rather than to be brought back to the nearest village.
But Draco had memorized the way and went back to his cabin.
Draco knew what he wants, he was determined to get what he wanted. He helped with the vegetable garden first. Became civilized despite the sprinkle of sexual innuendos along the way, it took time indeed but Draco was smart, and he wasn’t bored even though he has to hike back to the nearest village before nightfall and back again at 6:00 in the morning.
Don’t worry though, all of Draco’s hardship paid off. Draco found out that the catalyst was to be found excitedly crouching under a beech tree, looking like he found gold after spotting an Indian pipe, and suddenly he was eaten out against said tree, only to be placed in a bed minutes after.
It’s been 4 days since he returned to the village. The heat hasn’t ebbed yet.
They kissed slowly. Tongue slowly sliding, Draco’s bottom lips being harshly bitten to draw out a wanton moan. He was completely naked, writhing above Harry’s lap trying to contain his whimpers of frustration when his lower half was abandoned with attention as Harry with one hand gripped his hips to stop him from seeking friction in his shirt.
“Harry…I need…no more, please.” Draco begged, his chest was covered in glittering red marks, his nipple spit covered, his lower ribs bitten. He was half-delirious, and near to his wit's end.
“No more?” Harry asked, letting his lips trail in Draco's sternum, his beard causing goosebumps all over his body causing him to strongly shiver, his thighs tightening in Harry’s lap. “Do you want me to stop?”
“No…I Just-I’m going to feel. Aren’t you…” Draco stumbled over his words, Harry continuously grinned as he finally let go of his hips after a warning squeeze that made Draco straighten his spine. Both of Harry’s hands wander up on the front of his stomach, to his chest, and under his arms, allowing them to be raised up in the air.
Draco was then left in all display, his chest evidently heaving with his cock flushed in red, clearly leaking on his pale stomach. He watched his lover see all of him, in the light of their orange fire, his big hands tracing the shadows that touch his skin. Draco knew he was dying, he could taste the blood on his lips from the constant biting, and now, he could taste Harry’s finger after it was gently shoved inside.
He allowed himself to close his eyes, to let the feel of exploring fingers trail across his soft palate before kindly pulling on his tongue.
“Open your eyes, Draco.” Harry ordered, soon enough Draco was staring down at feverish green eyes with a mouth scowling at the sight of him. Draco further opened his mouth for exploration, letting out harsh huffs as he tried to not lose his senses on how good Harry’s other hand felt as it was currently curling at the small of his spine, coaxing him nearer, guiding him to lean closer to the man but not enough for Draco to fully grind into him. It was positively maddening. He was going to die.
Soon enough, as if Harry could sense that Draco was near the tittering end, he ordered Draco to coat his fingers while smirking as he guides Draco’s thighs apart, making Draco tremble and gasp.
Harry then coaxed his fingers down the cleft of Draco’s arse, leaving him to bite down a loud whimper, pressing his face into Harry’s muscular shoulder left to breathe in the smell of smoked fir wood and his own essence. He then husks against Draco's cheek, “Don’t do that, darling…Moan for me.”
It was like a dam filled to the brink, and now finally being released. Draco whimpered, and heedlessly begged as he felt Harry’s thick fingers gently fucking him inside, all too slowly, dragging it in Draco’s walls before pumping it again. It was a devious cycle, one that left Draco out of breath while Harry mercilessly push his tongue into his mouth at the same time while his other hands grip his arse to spread it, then let them go to caress them.
Harry utterly ignored Draco’s cock - letting him push into his shirt for a whisper of friction - but it was not enough. Draco wasn’t going to come like that. He was going to come in Harry’s fingers and he knows it.
Draco with full abandonment rocked himself back, pushing and trying to impale himself while looking at Harry’s eyes. He felt seen, more naked than ever. He could barely think, he only knew that he felt good at the moment.
“Do you want more?” He asks, driving deeper the fingers into Draco. He felt full - stretched. Throwing back his head while furiously nodding and mumbling his answers. Harry’s gripping hands suddenly pressed on the sensitive skin under his leaking cock, Draco’s eyes widen in shock.
It’s harder to breathe now, his eyes were rolling back, and the pounding of his heart could be heard in his ears. He wondered how come it wasn’t like this with anyone. How come he hasn’t felt like he’s about to go to heaven before. How come he’s only experienced this now.
“Beg me.” Harry orders, breathing into his ears. His fingers now driving into Draco fast and hard that he fears that’s he’s passing out - the tip of his thick fingers pounds into his prostrate on every stroke - his lips sucking into the side of Draco’s jaw. “Beg me to come, Draco. Claim what’s yours.”
Draco erupted into frantic and broken desperation of pleading. His arms reach for Harry’s shoulders as he forces his eyes to stare directly into his. The fingers driving up into him increase in speed, every pound inside makes Draco shout, he begs him please, please, please, Harry, let me come, Harry, Harry, Harry - and he snarls in his mouth, feral and possessive.
“Come now, Draco. Right now. Let go, darling.”
And in relief, the world stopped. Draco is no longer in his body - his senses have reached the peak, the nerves on every single one of his body have lit. Draco is awake, and he was dreaming. The epitome of falling over the cliff in tingling pleasure. Draco could only cry as the onslaught of pleasure overwhelmed him.
Harry’s voice is soft in his ear. His fingers still buried inside Draco, twisted deep, as Draco convulsed around it. Draco comes and sobs and wantonly reaches for anchor while his lower half grind in sensitivity.
Slowly, Draco returned to earth. Laid bonelessly on his lover’s chest, eyes closed while Harry’s free hand softly run over his head. He was cradled, caressed with care. Draco listens to Harry’s soft kisses, the murmurs of appreciation. Draco pants in his shoulders, his only reply was a moan.
“You did so well, Draco.” he says, thumbs massaging Draco's neck. “I am so proud of you.”
He was a 26-year-old man, who claims that he has experienced the world. A proud man who has owned companies, with achievements and expectations riding on his shoulders. A man who thought he would not find something like this.
Yet in Harry’s lap, he was loved. He was enough.
“Good, mm?”
“G-Good - Oh, Harry .” Draco tries to clamber into his lap, wanting to be closer. Harry softly reached behind him. Letting them to be closer.
As Draco finally came back, his breath finally slowly came down. His hands start to wander, playfully hoisting Harry’s shirt up. He then raised his head to meet Harry’s eyes. With a grin, his grey eyes twinkling as he stared into Harry’s adoring ones, Draco said, “Do you think there will still be fire by the time I’m done with you?”
“Maybe.” Harry challenges, “Show me.”