The dampness of the forest edge felt heavy against her skin as she stepped through the line of ancient trees. Dawn was beginning to break, casting a grey, indistinct light over the tangled roots and the low-hanging ferns. Draconia walked with her breath shallow, trying to avoid the snap of dry twigs under her boots. She knew the Forbidden Forest was technically out of bounds, but the rules felt increasingly distant from the reality of her own pulse. The air was cold, and the mist clung to the undersides of the leaves.
Harry was waiting where the trees thinned, leaning against a thick, mossy branch that protruded from a gnarled trunk. He looked tired, his hair a chaotic mess of dark strands that caught the morning light. Draconia felt a sudden, sharp urge to reach out and smooth it down, but she kept her hands tucked into the sleeves of her robes. She stood near the edge of the clearing, her back against the rough bark of a tree. This was the place where the light hit the moss with a dull intensity, making the green look almost silver in the early hours.
"You came," Harry said, his voice low and rough.
"Someone had to make sure you didn't wander off into a bog," Draconia replied, trying to keep her tone light.
"I wasn't going to wander into a bog," he argued, though a small, lopsed smile touched his lips.
"You were walking like a man with no sense of direction," she said, stepping closer to him.
"That is a lie, and you know it," he countered, his eyes fixed on her.
"It is a very well-documented lie," she said, her heart thudding against her ribs.
He moved toward her, his steps silent on the soft earth. The tension between them was a physical thing, a hard-edged reality that made her skin prickle. She watched his eyes, noticing how the grey light of the dawn made the green of his gaze seem deeper. He reached out, his fingers brushing the cuff of her sleeve, and she did not pull away.
"You're freezing," he whispered, his hand moving to her waist.
"I am perfectly fine," Draconia said, though she leaned into his warmth.
"You're lying again," Harry said, pulling her closer until her back was pressed against the rough, mossy branch behind her.
The bark was damp against her spine, and the moss felt soft and slightly spongy. He pressed his body against hers, and the heat of him was a sudden, violent contrast to the morning chill. Draconia felt her breath hitch as he leaned down, his lips finding the sensitive skin of her neck. She reached up, her fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer.
"Harry," she breathed, her eyes closing.
He didn't answer with words, instead moving his hands down to the hem of her robes. He lifted the fabric, his palms warm against her thighs. Draconia felt the cool air hit her skin, but it was quickly replaced by the heat of his touch. He pulled her knickers down, the silk sliding over her hips, and she felt the sudden, sharp ache in her lower belly.
He moved his hand between her legs, his fingers finding her wetness. He pushed two fingers inside her cunt, and Draconia gasped, her head falling back against the tree. The sensation was blunt and heavy, a thick friction that made her hips lift instinctively toward his hand. He pushed his fingers deeper, stretching her, and she felt the slickness of her pussy coating his skin.
"Do you like that?" he asked, his voice a low vibration against her skin.
"Yes," she hissed, her fingers digging into his shoulders.
He pulled his hand away only to reach for his own trousers, fumbling with the fastenings until his cock was free. It was thick and pulsing, the head of it glistening in the dim light. Draconia watched him, her eyes wide, as he positioned himself between her thighs. He nudged the head of his cock against her entrance, and the friction made her moan.
He pushed into her, a long, slow thrust that filled her completely. Draconia felt the stretch of him, the bluntness of his cock stretching her walls until she felt she might break. He was deep inside her, his weight pressing her harder into the mossy bark. He began to fuck her, his movements rhythmic and heavy. Each stroke was a hard, driving motion that sent jolts of pleasure through her pelvis.
"Fuck," he groaned, his hips slamming against hers.
"Harder," she commanded, her voice breaking.
He obeyed, driving himself into her with a fierce, desperate energy. She could feel every inch of him, the hard length of his cock sliding through her juices, the friction of his skin against her sensitive pussy. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him even deeper. The sound of his thrusts was a wet, rhythmic slapping of skin on skin. He was fucking her with a singular focus, his eyes locked on hers, his face tight with the effort of his pleasure.
She felt the build of the sensation in her gut, a heavy, pulsing pressure that demanded release. She arched her back, her breasts pressing against his chest, and felt the sweat from his skin mixing with her own. He was moving faster now, his thrusts becoming shorter and more frantic. He reached down, his thumb rubbing against her clitoris while his cock continued to pound into her.
"I'm going to..." she started, but the words were lost as he hit a particularly sensitive spot.
He drove into her one last time, a deep, bruising thrust that seemed to reach her very core. Draconia felt her orgasm shatter through her, a violent, pulsing contraction of her muscles. At the same moment, Harry let out a guttural sound, his body tensing as he came inside her. She felt the hot, thick spurt of his cum filling her, the warmth of it a stark contrast to the cool morning air. He stayed buried inside her, his breath ragged and hot against her ear, as they both drifted in the aftermath of the release.
The silence of the forest returned, broken only by the sound of their heavy breathing. Draconia felt the dampness of the moss under her, the chill of the morning air hitting her skin, and the heavy, satisfying weight of him still inside her. She felt grounded, anchored to the earth by the sensation of his body against hers.
"That was..." she started, her voice trembling as she tried to find her composure.
"What?" Harry asked, a smug, tired grin spreading across his face.
She looked up at him, the light of the dawn catching the sharp line of his jaw. She felt the vulnerability of the moment, the terrifying ease of the truth.
"I love you," she said, the words falling between them like a heavy weight.
She froze, the silence of the woods suddenly feeling too large. She felt the blood rush to her cheeks, and she immediately looked away, staring at a knot in the tree.
"It was a joke," she said quickly.