The entrance to the tunnel was a jagged knot in the wood of the Whomping Willow, a hollowed-out space that smelled of damp earth and rotting leaves. Draconia pulled herself through the opening, feeling the rough bark scrape against her ribs as she squeezed into the darkness. Harry was already inside, a dark shape moving through the gloom of the passage. It was a cramped, claustrophobic space, a hollowed-out vein in the centre of the tree that felt as though it should be dead. The air was stale and warm, trapped within the wooden walls of the tunnel.
"Is it safe?" she whispered, though her voice felt far too loud for the tight space.
"It is just a tunnel," Harry replied, his voice close to her ear.
She moved further into the dark, her hands brushing against the interior of the passage. The walls were slick with moisture, and the ground beneath her knees was soft and uneven. Every movement felt heavy in the confined air. She could hear his breathing, a rhythmic sound that filled the small space. They were both breathing heavily from the exertion of the climb and the sudden, sharp transition from the cool night air to the stifled heat of the tree.
"It feels like we are inside a beast," Draconia said, her hand finding his arm.
"It is just wood and earth," Harry said, though he gripped her hand back tightly.
They reached a wider part of the passage where the ceiling rose slightly. The darkness was absolute, a heavy, velvet weight that pressed against her eyes. She could not see him, but she could feel the heat of his body as he moved closer. The scent of him was everywhere, a mixture of rain and skin and something uniquely masculine that made her lungs ache. They were tucked away from the world, hidden in a place where the rules of the castle did not apply.
"Stay still," Harry murmured, his hands finding her waist.
"Where is there room to move?" she asked, a small laugh escaping her lips.
"Right here," he said, pulling her closer until her chest pressed against his.
His hands moved under the hem of her robes, his fingers warm against her skin. Draconia felt a sudden, sharp ache in her lower belly as his touch grew bolder. She reached for him, her fingers finding the hard lines of his muscles through his shirt. The darkness made every sensation heightened; the roughness of his palms, the texture of his hair, the way his breath hitched when she squeezed his side.
"Harry," she breathed, her voice a low vibration in the small space.
"I have you," he said, his mouth finding the crook of her neck.
He moved with a desperate kind of hunger, his hands sliding down to the waistband of her knickers. He pushed the fabric aside, exposing her skin to the cool, stagnant air of the tunnel. Draconia gasped as his fingers found her cunt, sliding into the slick heat of her. She arched her back, her head hitting the wooden wall of the passage. She did not care about the discomfort; she only cared about the way he felt inside her.
"Fuck," Harry hissed, his voice ragged. "You are so wet."
He pulled his trousers down, his cock springing free from the fabric. Draconia reached out, her fingers wrapping around his thick, pulsing shaft. It was hot and rigid in her hand, a stark contrast to the damp chill of the tunnel. She guided him toward her, her own pussy aching for the intrusion. As he pushed inside her, the sensation was overwhelming. He was large and heavy, filling her completely as he drove himself into her cunt.
"Oh god, Harry," she gasped, her fingers digging into his shoulders.
He began to fuck her with a rhythmic, driving motion, his hips striking against hers with a wet, slapping sound. The space was so tight that every thrust felt magnified. She could feel the friction of his cock sliding against her walls, the way it stretched her as he moved deep inside. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him even closer, wanting to feel every inch of him.
"Tell me you like it," he groaned, his face buried in the crook of her neck.
"I love it, just don't stop," she whispered, her voice breaking.
He increased the pace, his thrusts becoming harder and more frantic. Draconia felt the build of pressure in her lower belly, a tight, pulsing sensation that threatened to shatter her. She gripped his arms, her nails biting into his skin as he drove himself into her again and again. The sound of their bodies meeting in the dark was the only thing she could hear, a rhythmic thudding that matched the frantic beating of her heart.
"Harry, please," she cried, her voice a low moan of desperation.
He let out a guttural sound, his body tensing as he pushed himself deep into her. She felt the hot, thick burst of his cum hitting the back of her womb, a sensation so intense it made her entire body shudder. She climaxed with him, her muscles clamping tight around his cock as the waves of pleasure washed over her. They stayed joined in the dark, their breath coming in ragged gasps, the heat of their bodies the only thing keeping the chill of the tunnel at bay.
"Don't move," he whispered, his voice thick with exhaustion.
"I can't," she replied, her voice a mere thread of sound.
The silence that followed was not empty; it was full of the weight of what they had just done. The tunnel felt smaller now, more intimate, as if the walls were closing in to keep them secret. She felt the slickness of his cum running down her thighs, a warm reminder of the intensity of the moment. The darkness was no longer frightening; it was a sanctuary.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his hands moving to her face.
"Yes," she said, her voice steadying. "It was perfect."
He leaned in, his forehead resting against hers. The air was still, the scent of their sex hanging heavy in the cramped space. Draconia felt a sudden, sharp movement in the dark, a sense of being watched or perhaps just the shifting of the earth around them. She felt a hand move towards her face, a desperate need to quiet the sound of her breathing. He put his hand over her mouth and she bites it, gently, on purpose.