The rain hit the corrugated roof of the broom shed with a violent, rhythmic thudding that made the wooden floorboards vibrate under Draconia’s feet. It was a deluge, the kind of heavy, unrelenting downpour that turned the Quidditch pitch into a marsh and made the air taste of wet earth and bruised grass. Inside the small, cramped space, the smell of old wood and broomstick wax was sharp and suffocating. Harry stood near the back, his hair plastered to his forehead in dark, wet clumps. Water dripped from the tip of his nose and from the hem of his soaked robes.
Everything about the moment felt hurried and desperate. They had retreated from the pitch to escape the worst of the storm, but the shed offered little shelter from the humidity and the heat of their own bodies. Draconia watched a single bead of water roll down his neck, disappearing into the collar of his shirt. The sound of the rain was so loud that it felt like a physical weight against the walls, a percussive roar that drowned out the world outside.
"It is too loud to even hear yourself think," Harry shouted, leaning closer to her so his voice could pierce the din. He looked exhausted, his shoulders slumped from the weight of the heavy, wet fabric of his clothes.
"Then stop thinking and just feel it," Draconia replied, stepping into his space. She grabbed the front of his damp shirt, pulling him toward her. The friction of their movement sent a jolt through her. The air in the shed was thick with the scent of rain and the salt of their skin.
Harry did not hesitate. He reached out and gripped her waist, his fingers digging into the wet fabric of her robes. He pulled her hard against him, and the impact of her pelvis hitting his thigh made her gasp. He leaned down, pressing his mouth against hers in a messy, desperate kiss that tasted of rainwater and heat.
Draconia felt the sudden, sharp ache in her lower abdomen as he shoved her back against a stack of crates. Her hips bumped the wood, and the sensation of the hard surface behind her made her pussy throb. She reached down, fumbling with the fastenings of her robes, her fingers clumsy and frantic. Harry helped her, his hands moving with a frantic energy as he stripped her down until she was bare to the cold, damp air of the shed.
He knelt before her, his knees splashing in a shallow puddle on the floor. Draconia watched him, her breath hitching as he parted her thighs. He used his thumbs to spread her labia wide, exposing her wet, swollen cunt to the dim light. He leaned in, his face inches from her sex, and she felt the heat of his breath against her skin. He licked a long, wet stripe from her clitoris down to her perineum, and Draconia let out a loud, uninhibited moan that was immediately swallowed by a fresh burst of rain hitting the roof.
"Fuck, you are so wet," Harry yelled, his voice thick with want. He shoved two fingers deep into her pussy, stretching her wide. The sensation of him filling her was a sharp, wonderful pressure. Draconia arched her back, her head hitting the wooden wall behind her. She reached down to find him, her hand wrapping around his cock. It was thick and hot, pulsing in her grip. She guided the head of his cock to her entrance, rubbing the wetness of her cunt over the sensitive skin of his shaft.
Harry stood up, pulling her with him until she was standing and he was kneeling. He lifted her hips, her legs wrapping around his waist as he guided his cock into her. He pushed upward, the blunt force of his entry making her eyes roll back. He was big, filling her so completely that she felt her muscles stretch to their limit. He began to fuck her, his thrusts hard and rhythmic, timed to the frantic pounding of the storm above.
"Harder!" Draconia screamed, her voice cracking. "Just fuck me, Harry!"
He obeyed, driving himself into her with a savage intensity. Every time his pelvis slammed against hers, the sound of meat hitting meat was lost in the roar of the rain. His cock slid in and out of her pussy, the friction creating a slick, wet sound that was nearly audible beneath the deluge. Draconia gripped his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin as he drove himself deeper. She felt the build of the tension in her gut, a tightening coil that made her want to scream.
He pulled out almost entirely before plunging back in, the sensation of his cock sliding through her wetness making her cry out. He was moving too fast to be gentle, and she did not want him to be gentle. She wanted the friction, the heavy, blunt weight of him. She felt the pulse of his cock inside her, a rhythmic thrumming that matched the beating of her heart.
"Do you love it?" he shouted, his face contorted with the effort of his thrusts. "Do you love how much it hurts?"
"Yes!" she yelled back, her eyes wide and bright. "Don't stop!"
He reached down, his fingers finding her clitoris as he continued to fuck her. He rubbed the sensitive nub with a heavy thumb, adding a new layer of friction to the deep, driving ache of his cock. Draconia felt herself breaking. The pleasure was a heavy, crushing weight, much like the rain outside. She felt the first waves of her orgasm beginning to ripple through her, a series of contractions that gripped his cock tightly.
Harry felt it too. His thrusts became shorter, faster, and more desperate. He was shoving himself into her with a primal force, his hips working like a machine. He groaned, a low, guttural sound that she felt in her own chest. He shoved his face into the crook of her neck, biting at her skin as he neared the end.
"I'm going to cum!" he roared, the sound nearly drowned out by a sudden crack of thunder.
He gave three more violent, heavy thrusts, driving his cock as deep as it could go into her pussy. Draconia felt the hot, thick spurt of his cum filling her, the warmth of it a stark contrast to the cool air of the shed. He came with a final, shuddering heave, his entire body tensing as he emptied himself into her. Draconia cried out, her own release crashing over her in a tidal wave of sensation that left her shaking and breathless.
They stayed there for a moment, slumped against the crates, the only sound the heavy, wet gasps of their breathing and the violent storm. The rain was not slowing down; if anything, the deluge was growing more intense, the water lashing against the roof with a renewed ferocity. Draconia looked up at the ceiling, her heart still racing as she felt the slickness of his cum leaking from her.
She leaned her head back, the dampness of the shed clinging to her skin. The storm was a wall of sound, a chaotic, beautiful noise that wrapped around them. She turned her head to look at Harry, who was staring at her with wide, dark eyes.
"I love you!" she shouted, the truth finally breaking free from her.
Harry leaned in, his voice rising to match the roar of the downpour as he repeated it back louder, and the storm was louder still.