• 1-Political Axes
• 2-Ch 1
• 3-ch2
• 4-Ch3
• 5-Ch 4
• 6-5
• 7-6
• 8-7
• 9-8
• 10-9
• 11-10
• 12-11
• 13-12
• 14-13
• 15-14
• 16-15
• 17-16
• 18-17
• 19-18
• 20-19
• 21-20

To my reviewers: Thank heavens for you all!! I read each and every one of them, and truly think about them. This story takes a lot to keep going, and you have helped me want to keep writing it. I plan to finish this, and with your continued support I will. Enjoy the Smex, engage with the Plot, feed the muse!! :-) Thanks. R.

A few hours had passed since the dinner party had broken up. After seeing Max and Blaise off for the evening, Harry had taken the Floo back to the Ministry on Auror business, telling Draco not to wait up. Their discussions had lit a fire in Harry’s eyes, and Draco knew without being told that Harry would be briefing his team and opening an unofficial file on Joseph Guillmere.

Draco had used the ensuing hours to supervise the house-elves in cleaning the study, handle a few pieces of neglected post from his financial advisor, and then he had dragged himself up to his and Harry’s bedroom suite for a leisurely bath.

After sitting so long in the water that his fingers and toes began to prune, the blond exited the bath and toweled off, wrapping himself in his favorite silk robe as he exited the en suite. The robe was expensive but simple, and it felt extravagant against his skin. It had been a gift from Harry on his last birthday, and much to Harry’s displeasure he had only seen Draco in it once, as the blond tended to only wear it when Harry was away. It was peculiar, Draco knew, but he liked to bask in evidence of his and Harry’s relationship when his lover was away, and the robe was just one more reminder of just how wonderful Harry was as a partner. In moments like this, when he was alone, Draco could sit in front of the mirrored vanity in the bedroom, wearing a gift or two from Harry, and reassure himself that he was of supreme significance in Harry’s life. He knew what he was getting when he fell in love with the wizarding world’s ‘Savior’. He knew that Harry would always be pulled into duty, leaving Draco behind to wait for his return. It was a sacrifice Draco made with little regret, because in the end, after the day’s battle had been fought—win or lose—Harry did precisely that, he returned home to Draco.

The Malfoy heir sat on an antique vanity bench that had once been his mother’s, the smooth burgundy brocade upholstery cushioning his bottom, as Pertie, his personal elf and childhood nanny, dried and brushed his hair. After several minutes of feeling the brush pulled along his scalp from root to tip, Draco allowed his eyes to drift closed as he gave himself over to the relaxing rhythm of the elf’s tender, deliberate ministrations, a lazy smile plastered on his face. It wasn’t long before he lost track of time, as he was wont to do when Pertie tended his hair. He would have surely fallen asleep, only to be put to bed by Pertie, if it were not for a change in both the pressure and rhythm of the brushstrokes.

Jarred by the change, his stormy grey eyes opened and widened fractionally in surprise as he took in the picture reflected in the mirror. Harry stood behind him, green-eyes riveted to the mirror as well, gently stroking along a section of hair with the brush. Draco was like a deer caught in headlights as he watched Harry, unable to blink nor turn away from the handsome vision of his lover, shirtless and bathed in soft light from the fireplace and a few low-lit wall sconces. The sight of Harry’s perpetually tanned skin never ceased to put Draco in a type of semi-trance; the flaming phoenix tattoo that covered the Auror’s left bicep only enhanced Harry’s muscular upper body in Draco’s opinion. His mouth watered at the thought of dragging his tongue along those flames, knowing just how aroused it made Harry. It seemed to spark some invisible fire inside his lover when Draco endeavored to stroke or caress the tattoo, a little-known fact to most of Harry’s previous lovers.

Draco was so focused on drinking in the sight of his lover that he almost failed to register Harry speak.

“I love your hair,” Harry said softly, continuing to brush the long locks, which after being tended by both Pertie and Harry shined like sun-drenched cornsilk. “I love it…and I’ve been neglecting it,” he added sorrowfully, his voice thick and deep.

Draco felt his breath catch as Harry’s eyes met his in the mirror. He watched spellbound as Harry stared at him determinedly, his face as serious as Draco had ever seen it, made more striking by the darkening of those green eyes. The blond held the stare for several silent moments in which he neither agreed nor disagreed with Harry’s statement, before he eventually broke eye contact, choosing instead to look down into the surface of the vanity table.

Trembling inexplicably, Draco watched out of the corner of his eye as Harry reached an arm around him to place the brush on the tabletop. He remained still as Harry gathered his long, thick hair together at his nape and secured it with a thin, velvet ribbon, leaving the ends free flowing like the tail on a mare, which Harry picked up and draped over Draco’s shoulder so that it collected in the blond’s lap.

“I’ve been neglecting you too, haven’t I?” Harry asked, though Draco could intuit that it was rhetorical.

Draco’s eyes closed involuntarily as he felt the silk robe being slid from his shoulders. He shivered as the cool, silky material pooled around his waist and a hot, moist tongue was applied to the already fevered skin of his naked back. Draco sighed as he felt Harry’s mouth travel lower and lower in almost imperceptible increments. Before long a cooling trail of open-mouthed kisses descended from the nape of his neck to the small dip above his buttocks.

“For that I am truly very sorry,” Harry said as he kneeled at Draco’s side, reaching a hand across the blond’s waist and undoing the sash to the robe, revealing Draco in all his glory.

When Draco was completely naked, only his hair covering a small section of his chest and thigh, Harry sat back on his heels and just stared at his lover. He could see the downy white-blond body hair on Draco’s arms and thighs rising up along with fine goosebumps as the blond continued to shiver ever so slightly.

“You are a vision, Draco. So very beautiful you are and I know I don’t tell you that enough. You deserve to hear it all the time, and I am by no means blind to the fact that there are others who would love to tell you, in private if they could,” Harry said, his voice low but gentle, as he stroked a finger along Draco’s outer thigh, over the knee and down his lower leg before letting his hand fall away.

Draco turned to look at Harry, fully aware that his eyes were brimming with unshed tears, and gave his lover a weak smile, unable to pour his own heart into reciprocal words.

Harry leaned forward and pressed his lips to Draco’s in a tender kiss, breaking it just as the blond opened his mouth for a deeper exploration.

“No. Let me…take care of you tonight,” Harry breathed, using his hands to shift Draco into a straddle position on the bench, before laying him down across its length.

The bench was just long enough to hold Draco’s torso, leaving his bottom partially hanging off the end. The position could quickly grow tiresome on his legs and lower back, Draco thought in passing, only to gasp in surprise when Harry lifted his legs to rest on his shoulders. The blond immediately crossed his ankles to better anchor his legs atop Harry’s shoulders and upper back..

“I’ve got you. Relax,” Harry whispered, leaning down to nuzzle into the groove between Draco’s upper thigh and groin.

Harry let out a rumbling growl as he exhaled. Seemingly speaking to the room he said, “Smell so good. All the time. Drives me mad.”

Before Draco could make sense of it, Harry had dipped down again and taken Draco’s cock into his mouth, hastily working it to full mast. The combination of a hot mouth and the lubricating slickness of saliva had Draco moaning almost immediately, his head thrashing back and forth under the onslaught of Harry’s rather persistent technique.

It wasn’t long before Draco was bracing himself against the vanity bench, brow furrowed and face scrunched tightly as he fought of his orgasm. It was coming far too soon. He used all remaining restraint to still his hips, which had been thrusting up to meet Harry’s descent, creating a rhythm that had Draco breathless and flushed. Just when he thought he could stave off his climax Harry opened his throat and swallowed Draco as though he were air. The hot massage of Harry’s throat against the head of his cock was Draco’s undoing. He came in rush, his climax bursting forth before he could pull it back, forcing a scream of pure ecstasy from between his peach-colored lips.

He came with abandon, arching up into the cavernous warmth of Harry’s mouth, emptying himself so completely that it felt as though he had been left nothing but a shell of skin and bones. Harry, miraculously, took it all. The brutal thrust of Draco’s manhood into the back of his throat and the hot spurts of semen that followed only heightened the passion Harry felt at this moment. He lived to see Draco come apart in his arms, just so that he could put him back together with the agenda of breaking him all over again.

Harry released the softening organ with an audible slurp, looking down at a sated Draco, flushed bright pink and spent, arms drooping limply along the floor as his long legs slid from Harry’s shoulders onto the floor with muted thuds.

“That was…dear gods, Harry,” Draco babbled, his eyes unfocused in the dim light.

Harry let out a small grunt of agreement as he stood and shucked the remainder of his clothing, his eyes never leaving Draco who lay on the bench atop the royal blue silk fabric of the robe like his own living, porcelain doll.

Just as the sleep of a hard orgasm threatened to take him into slumber, Draco felt his upper body being lifted upright. He was pulled into a sitting position, still straddling the bench, as Harry straddled it as well, facing him. The blond merely went along when Harry wrapped his arms around him and lifted him up to sit in his lap, their cocks snuggling together like long lost friends.

“Can I fuck you, Draco?” Harry asked directly, his voice begging while his eyes demanded. Draco’s head lolled a bit to one side as he smiled at his lover, realizing not for the first time that he could never deny Harry anything, nor did he want to.

“I’d like nothing more, baby,” Draco cooed in Harry’s ear, loving how the tension in his lover melted a bit at the word ‘baby’. Yes, Harry was that…and so much more.

Their kisses stoked their arousals, making them both pant due to a lack of steady oxygen. Draco had long since given up all attempts to wrestle control from Harry, not even pretending that he wanted to. Tonight, as in all nights, he would let Harry lead. Let Harry take what he needed, because Draco trusted that by giving Harry what he needed, the brunet would in turn give Draco what he needed. And thus far in their relationship, that philosophy had yet to fail him.

Harry lifted Draco up by the waist, growling sensually as those long, smooth, pale legs wrapped tightly around him. Draco let out a mischievous giggle as he writhed in Harry’s arm, making sure to grind Harry’s cock back and forth along his cleft and between his balls and thigh.

The giggle must have been too much for Harry to take, because in the blink of an eye Draco found himself pressed face forward into the vanity mirror, with only one leg for support. Harry hooked his elbow underneath Draco’s right leg, lifting it, spreading Draco against the vanity table like a ballerina in a half-formed, contorted arabesque.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” Harry whispered into his ear. The hot breath making Draco go from willing to desperate in zero seconds flat. “Simply sinful,” Harry added in a harsh voice, surveying Draco’s backside possessively.

The blond arched his ass out tauntingly, earning him a firm slap to his right buttock, which was taut and firm due to the pose. The smack rang out in the quiet of their bedroom, clashing deliciously with the heavy breathing and charged atmosphere. Draco loved this side of Harry. Even when he tried to not be, Harry was domineering. It was done so easily and naturally that it went by most unnoticed, but Draco noticed. He wanted to be brought to heel and he knew that Harry was the only one who could do it. He was the only one Draco would ever allow to have such control.

The first smack was followed closely by a second and third, until Draco gave a proper wince and whined, his lips trembling with desire and his cock already beginning to leak again.

Harry eased off Draco’s back a bit, allowing himself room to get a proper look at the ruby red of Draco’s right buttock. Neither of them was particularly hairy, but Draco’s genetics had left him nearly smooth all over, with just the lightest dusting of body hair. The sight of that smooth skin glowing red due to his hand sent Harry’s restraint into paralysis. With a mumbled spell he lubricated Draco’s winking hole, slipping in a thumb and using his four fingers to toy with the blond’s perineum and balls.

“Harry,” Draco breathed, his voice filled with stress and need as Harry pulled his thumb out and slowly massaged his opening.

“You’ve been fucking around back here, haven’t you, you naughty little thing,” Harry teased, slapping Draco across the ass a few more times for good measure.

“Just a bit, love. I—I missed you, baby,” Draco cooed. By now his brow and back were both damp with sweat and the real fucking had yet to even begin.

“Then miss me no more,” Harry said, placing on hand on Draco’s hip and the other on his own cock as he settled into position and pushed slowly inside.

As Harry eased into him Draco brought up a clenched hand and slammed it against the mirror in frustration, cracking it in the process.

“Shhhh,” Harry whispered, rubbing his hands up and down Draco’s flanks, trying to calm him. “Let me take us, love. Be patient for me.”

Draco gave a groan of disappointment but nodded his head against the cool surface of the cracked mirror. He took a deep breath when Harry stilled inside him, gathering the remnants of his wits and control. A minute or so passed with the two of them joined but not moving, Draco braced against the mirror and table of the vanity while Harry tried his best to not give in to his desire to plunge in and out of his lover like an oil drill.

Their movements began slow and easy. Draco allowed himself to relax into the rhythm, as Harry thrust into him with somewhat languid but precise strokes, his calloused fingers gripping Draco’s hips tightly to restrain almost any reciprocal movements from the blond.

“Like that, Dray. Huh?” Harry asked, his strokes never faltering, even as his pace increased and the vanity began banging against the wall like a percussion instrument.

“Gods yes!” Draco exclaimed as Harry’s cock brushed over his prostate.

Harry’s thrusts became harder and faster. Draco leaned further into the vanity, his face pressed so hard against it that his breath fogged the glass.

“Give me more, Harry. More, damn it!” Draco gasped in a rush of pleasure, uncaring that he sounded like a world-class whore. He knew better and so did Harry. “Come for me, baby. I want to feel you burst inside me.”

With a shuddering grumble, Harry slammed into him double-time, the contact between their bodies creating a loud combination of squelching and slapping. Sweat trickled down the sides of Harry’s face, onto Draco’s back, leaving them both slick with perspiration. The Auror felt his leg muscles begin to burn from the stress of holding Draco and propelling his own cock in and out of his lover. Still, Harry continued on, thrusting and heaving, panting and grunting, slaking his needs with the finely toned body in his arms.

Harry slipped an arm around Draco’s waist in search of his penis, smiling briefly when he was able to wrap a hand around it. He noted that it was erect and still stickily moist from their earlier activities, yet he wanted something more for his love this night.

He wrapped his thumb and forefinger around Draco like a ring, hoping to help the blond hold off his second release.

“It’s been a while since you came inside, Dray. Would you like to?”

Draco merely nodded quickly, his voice gone the way of his wits.

Harry shifted his feet, altering the angle of his strokes, trying with all that he had to hammer incessantly against that sensitive spot inside his lover that created a reaction only a few had ever witnessed.

When the babbling started and Draco threw his head back Harry knew he was on the right track. Within minutes the blond’s eyelids began to flutter like an epileptic and Harry could only see the whites of Draco’s eyes reflected in the mirror. A few more hard thrusts and he felt Draco go rigid as the dead and stop breathing for several seconds, followed shortly by a gasping sob and a trickle of tears that rolled from the corners of the blond’s eyes and down his temples to disappear in his hair.

Harry cheered inside, his ardor and pride both rising a few notches at his achievement. He’d done it. An internal orgasm was an elusive thing for most men, even Draco, who had a terribly sensitive prostate. Yet, on occasion, when the stars were aligned and Harry put his all into it, he could make Draco come twice, both inside and out, in one go.

Placing a kiss and a light bite to Draco’s neck, Harry went in search of his own climax, reaching it at the same time Draco spurted his third release of the night across the bottom of the mirror. Both their bodies spent and their muscles shaking and weak like a baby lamb’s, the two fell to the floor hard, ever grateful that Harry had mastered wandless magic when the bedcovers floated off the bed and covered them on the floor.

With a series of sleepy, sloppy kisses and whispered words of love, the two cuddled close and drifted into a peaceful sleep, the kind that each had experienced too few times in their young lives.