The fire had burned down to a low, pulsing orange, casting long flickers of light across the green velvet of the sofa. Harry sat on the edge of the cushion, his breathing heavy and uneven in the quiet room. Draconia moved toward him, her movements slow and deliberate, as she watched the way the light caught the sharp lines of his jaw. The lake light was gone from the windows, replaced by a deep, watery darkness that made the common room feel smaller and more private than it had been an hour ago.
"You are staring," Harry said, his voice a low rasp that scraped against the stillness.
"Someone has to," Draconia replied, her eyes tracing the line of his throat. "You are far too quiet tonight."
"I am simply waiting to see if you will actually do it," he said, leaning back into the velvet.
She reached out, her fingers grazing the fabric of his trousers before she moved to the hem of her own skirt. The game had changed since the first stocking, and the rules had grown blurred under the heat of the dying fire. She pulled the silk of the first stocking down her leg, the fabric sliding over her skin with a soft-sounding friction. Her skin felt sensitive, the air of the room cool against her thighs as she bared herself to the warmth of the hearth.
"You are a cruel man, Harry," she whispered, her hand moving to the waistband of his trousers.
"And you are a patient woman," he said, his eyes never leaving her face.
She unfastened him with steady fingers, her gaze fixed on his as she pushed the fabric down. His cock sprang free, thick and red-veaked in the amber glow of the embers. She watched the way it twitched, a heavy weight of muscle and heat that seemed to pulse in time with the flickering flames. She reached out, her palm cupping the length of his cock, feeling the velvet texture of his skin.
"Do you want me to?" she asked, her voice dropping an octave.
"You know exactly what to do," he said, his hands finding her hips to pull her closer to the edge of the sofa.
Draconia leaned forward, her hair falling over her shoulders as she took the head of his cock into her mouth. She licked the tip, tasting the salty, musky heat of him. He groaned, a deep sound that vibrated through the velvet of the sofa, and his fingers dug into the flesh of her hips. She sucked the length of him, her tongue swirling around the ridge of his glans, before sliding the whole of his cock deep into her throat. The sensation of him filling her mouth made her eyes water, but she did not pull away. She wanted to feel the fullness of him, the way he felt heavy and hot against her tongue.
He reached down, his fingers finding the wetness between her legs. He pushed two fingers into her pussy, sliding them deep into her cunt to find the heat inside. She gasped, her head tilting back as she felt the slick friction of his fingers against her internal walls. The sensation was sharp and blunt, a direct ache that made her hips tilt instinctively toward his hand.
"You are so wet for me," he murmured, his thumb rubbing circles over her clitoris.
"It is your fault," she said, her voice breaking as she pulled her mouth away from his cock.
She moved herself up the sofa, straddling his lap so that her cunt pressed directly against the base of his shaft. The friction was immense, the wetness of her pussy coating his skin as she pushed herself down. He groaned, his hands sliding up her back to grip her waist, his thumbs digging into her skin. She began to bounce, a slow, rhythmic motion that allowed her to feel the hard length of his cock sliding against her clitoris and the entrance of her cunt.
"Fuck, Draconia," he hissed, his eyes darkening as he watched her move.
She leaned forward, her breasts brushing against his chest, and wrapped her arms around his neck. She began to move faster, her hips grinding against his pelvis in a circular motion. The sound of their bodies meeting was wet and heavy, the friction of her pussy against his cock creating a slick, slapping noise that echoed in the quiet room. She felt the pressure building, a heavy ache in her lower abdomen that demanded more.
"Harder," she commanded, her voice a jagged edge in the dark.
He gripped her thighs, lifting her slightly so he could thrust his hips upward into her. He drove his cock deep into her cunt, the blunt force of the impact making her breath hitch. He was fucking her with a relentless, driving rhythm, his cock sliding in and out of her soaked opening. Every thrust felt massive, a sensation of fullness that stretched her wide. She felt the heat of him inside her, a pulsing, driving heat that seemed to merge with the warmth of the fire.
"Tell me," he gasped, his face buried in the crook of her neck as he hammered into her. "Tell me what you want."
"More," she cried out, her fingers clawing at his shoulders. "Just... more."
He increased the pace, his thrusts becoming shorter and more violent. The velvet of the sofa felt rough against her skin as she moved with him, the entire world narrowing down to the sensation of his cock sliding through her. She could feel the friction of his pubic bone against her clit, the sharp, delicious ache of him filling her to the brink. Her cunt felt tight and swollen, the muscles of her walls pulsing around his shaft with every deep, heavy stroke.
"You are so tight," he groaned, his voice a low, guttural sound. "Your cunt is squeezing me so hard."
"Don't stop," she pleaded, her eyes closing as she felt the climax building in her belly. "Don't you dare stop."
He reached down, his fingers finding her clitoris and rubbing it with a brutal, direct pressure as he continued to fuck her. The double sensation of his cock deep inside her and his fingers on her nub sent her over the edge. She felt her internal muscles clenching around him, a rhythmic, pulsing squeeze that drove him to the brink as well. He let out a low roar, his body tensing as he drove himself into her one last time, his cock pulsing inside her as he came.
The warmth of his cum felt hot and thick inside her, a liquid heat that seemed to fill her entire womb. She felt the heavy, rhythmic throb of his climax, the way he filled her with his essence. She slumped against his chest, her heart racing, the silence of the room returning as the fire gave one last, dying pop.
She looked up at him, her vision slightly blurred by the heat of the moment. He was watching her, his expression unreadable in the dim light of the dying embers.
"It is not enough," she whispered, her voice trembling.
"What is not enough?" he asked, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw.
"To just have you," she said, her eyes searching his.
She leaned down, her lips hovering just above his, before she said the word she had been holding back since the first stocking.
"More," she said.