They roughly pulled away from each other, their eyes locked intensely as they stepped back until their backs were to adjacent walls in the corner of the room.
Harry's heart pounded in his chest as he leaned against the wall, his eyes locked onto Daphne's. The air between them crackled with tension, a palpable force that had been building for weeks, growing with each stolen glance, each brush of their hands, each whispered word, and each voyeuristic session. His enhanced body could feel the heat radiating off her, his eyes could see the flush on her cheeks and the dilation of her pupils.
His eyes raked over her form, lingering on her curves hidden annoyingly behind her clothes, and he wanted to tear them off her body, to expose her to his hungry gaze. He wanted to touch her, to adore her, to worship her, and above all, to ravage her just like only he ever should.
It had been enough. They had waited long enough. She wanted this as much as he did, and he knew that just like him, she couldn't wait any longer.
"Come here," he growled, his voice rough with desire. She obeyed, her movements slow and deliberate, her lustful eyes never leaving his. She stopped in front of him, her breath hitching as he reached out to touch her. His hand cupped the back of her neck, and his fingers tangled in her hair. Impatient, he pulled her closer, his lips crashing down onto hers in another fierce, hungry kiss.
She moaned, her hands fisting in his shirt, pulling him closer, as if she couldn't get enough of him either. He could taste her, sweet and intoxicating, and he wanted more. His tongue explored her mouth, tangling with hers, his teeth nipping at her bottom lip.
His other hand roamed her body, urgent and demanding, as if he couldn't get enough of her. He grabbed her ass, pulling her against him, grinding against her. She gasped, her head falling back, and he pressed his advantage, his mouth trailing down her neck. His lips clamped down on her throat, sucking and kissing eagerly as he descended, his teeth nipping at her pulse point.
She shivered, her hands moving to his shoulders. She grabbed him firmly, her nails digging into his flesh. He could feel the heat of her core through their clothes, and it drove him wild. He walked them backward, his mouth never leaving hers until his back hit the desk. With a furious swipe of his hand, he banished everything off the table and transfigured it, his magic following his instincts perfectly. Once the table had morphed into a plush, king-size bed, he fell back, taking her with him, their bodies still entwined. She straddled him, her skirt riding up, and he could feel the heat of her core through his pants as she rested right above his cock.
He reached for the offending Hogwarts robes first, pulling it up and over her head in one swift movement. She took off the tie urgently, throwing it away, and a loud gasp escaped her rosy lips when Harry grabbed her shirt in the middle and violently tore it off. The buttons scattered as Daphne aided him, pulling it off her frame and throwing it away.
Her hands quickly went to work her skirt while Harry watched her heaving tits hungrily, barely restrained by a powder blue bra. She pulled the skirt up her body and over her head before she threw it away as well, sitting atop him in nothing but her matching lingerie.
"Fuck, you're perfect," Harry whispered reverently, reaching up to unclasp her bra. Daphne aided him once again, a beautiful smile lighting up her face at his reverence, and pulled it off herself, throwing it to the side.
She was almost naked now, and Harry's eyes were fixated on her breasts that were heaving with her ragged breaths. Her skin flushed and rosy, her gaze filled with desire and a tinge of uncertainty. None of that mattered to Harry who admired the sheer radiance that this beauty had always emitted for him.
"You finally have me where you've always wanted me, and all you're going to do is stare?" Daphne commented with mirth, shaking him out of his thoughts.
Silently, he reached for her lovely tits, his hands cupping their fullness, and his thumbs brushing against her nipples. They hardened under his touch, and she gasped, her back arching and her head falling back. He leaned up as she came closer, his mouth latching onto one pert peak, his tongue swirling around it.
Daphne moaned out loud, her hands tangling in his hair as she pulled him to her. He could feel her grinding against him, her need as great as his, and he couldn't wait any longer. He had waited long enough. They had waited long enough. Foreplay could wait. He wanted her, just as much as she wanted him.
He reached between them, unbuckling his pants, and Daphne quickly got the memo as she climbed off him, helping him free himself. He could feel her hands, eager and clumsy, working his trousers down his legs. His cock sprang free, and for a moment, Daphne watched it, utterly captivated. Until now, she had only seen it when Regina was with him, but now, it belonged to her as well.
She shook herself out of the stupor and immediately grabbed the waistband of her knickers, pulling the piece of fabric down her legs. Harry reached out with his hand and with a smirk, she handed it over, watching as he brought it to his nose and took a long whiff. The sight both pleased her and intensified her arousal. She crawled over to him on her hands and knees with her arse hiked high in the air and her large tits dangling off her chest as she pressed her mouth to his neck, her lips kissing wetly and her teeth nipping at his skin.
Harry growled, putting her knickers to the side, and with his hands gripping her hips, he easily lifted her. Daphne yelped as she was unceremoniously planted right on top of his cock and Harry held her there, his eyes, wild with lust, locked with her similar ones.
An unspoken conversation passed between them before she reached behind herself. She wrapped her hand around the base of his length, and having watched him numerous times with Regina, she knew what to do.
She guided him to her entrance, her eyes locked with his, and then she was sliding down, taking him in inch by inch. They both moaned, their bodies trembling with the effort to hold back. He could feel her, tight and wet and perfect, and he knew he wanted to keep feeling this sensation for as long as he lived. He gripped her hips, his fingers digging into her soft flesh, and began to move. He met her in the middle, and their lips slammed in a passionate kiss as Harry bottomed out inside her.
For a long moment, they stayed locked in an embrace as they made out heatedly, their sexes joined, and it was not until Harry felt Daphne pat his chest in approval that he decided to move again. His fingers sank into her plump arse—one he could now feel up as much as he wanted—and he maneuvered her atop himself. Their moans combined as their lips moved against each other harmoniously, their hips slapping with loud smacks as they fucked.
She met him thrust for thrust, her body moving with a wild abandon that matched his own. Their bodies slapped together, their breaths coming in ragged gasps, and their moans filling the room. It was raw, it was primal, it was everything he had been dreaming of.
He could feel her tightening around him, her body tensing, and he knew she was close. He reached between them, his fingers finding her clit easily, and she cried out, her body convulsing around him. The feel of her coming apart pushed almost him over the edge but he succeeded in restraining himself. With a final thrust, he buried himself to the hilt inside her, holding her firmly against himself as she kept shuddering with the force of her release.
She collapsed on top of him, their bodies slick with sweat, and their breaths ragged. He could feel her heart pounding against his, and he knew, at that moment, that he would never get enough of her. They had finally crossed the line, and there was no going back. And he wouldn't have it any other way.
But he also knew that this was just the beginning. He wanted more, needed more. He wanted to explore every inch of her body, to learn what made her gasp, what made her moan. He wanted to make her come again and again, to watch her fall apart in his arms.
He rolled them over, so that she was on her back, and looked down at her. Her eyes were closed, her lips parted, and her chest was heaving with her ragged breaths. His eyes took in her sweaty tits as they swayed and shook in tandem with her movements, and for a long moment, he just took in the post-orgasmic beauty beneath him.
She was beautiful—the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and she was his. He would never let her go.
He leaned down and began to explore her body with his mouth, starting at her lips and working his way down. He traced the outline of her lips with his tongue, feeling her shiver beneath him.
He trailed his lips down her neck, nipping at her sensitive skin and feeling her pulse quicken, her breathing get labored. He took his time tasting her, worshipping her, claiming her in earnest, his lips drifting to her collarbone, and then her sternum, until he reached her breasts. He captured one taut nipple in his mouth, feeling her pull him closer, and began swirling his tongue around her nipples, his teeth nipping at her skin. He could feel her squirming beneath him, her body arching into his touch, and he knew she was ready for more. Her pussy tightened around his hard cock and she began to move slowly as he kept pleasuring her, but Harry gently stopped her.
He ignored her protesting groan when he slowly slid out of her. He moved lower, his lips tracing a path down her stomach, his tongue dipping into her navel. He could feel her trembling, could feel her legs tightening around him. He looked up at her and saw the anticipation in her eyes, the desperate need written all over her face.
He smiled, a slow, wicked smile, before lowering his head and capturing her clit in his mouth. She cried out, her body convulsing, her hands fisting in his hair. He held on, his tongue circling around the sensitive nub, his lips sucking, and he relished the feeling of her body responding to his ministrations. He could feel her grow wetter, feeling her grow closer.
He descended further and started slow, his tongue tracing her folds, his lips pressing soft kisses to her skin. He could feel her relaxing, her body melting into the bed, and he knew she was ready for more. He slipped his tongue inside her, tasting her, exploring her, and she moaned, her hands fisting in the sheets.
He could feel her getting closer, her body tensing, her legs shaking, and her breath coming in short gasps. He could feel the telltale signs of her impending release, and he reached out, his fingers finding her wet entrance. He probed and prodded her lower lips, teasing her while he kept his eyes locked with hers.
"Come for me, Daphne," he whispered, his voice muffled against her clit. "Let me taste you. Let me see you come apart for me again."
He slipped a finger inside her, curling it upwards, and she cried out, her body convulsing around him. Her back arched and her mouth opened in a silent scream.
He continued to lick and suck, his fingers moving in and out of her, until she was writhing beneath him, her body shaking with the force of her orgasm. He could feel her juices coating his fingers and his chin, and he lapped it all up, savoring her taste.
Daphne shook erratically, her release drowning her in waves of pleasure as he moved back up her body, his lips finding hers in a fierce, hungry kiss. She could taste herself on him, and it drove her wild. She wrapped her legs around him, pulling him closer, and he could feel his hard cock pressing against her wetness, both ready for more.
He broke off their kiss and gazed deeply into her blue eyes, seeing the desire reflected in them. He caressed her cheek reverently as they gazed at each other.
There were many women he had found himself gravitating toward, especially since he had done the ritual, but for some reason, it felt different with Daphne. He did not truly know what the reason was, but he felt he could live without everyone else, but he could not imagine going on happily without her.
She gave him a nod and he reached between them, guiding himself to her entrance, feeling her wetness. He pushed inside, feeling her stretch to accept him again, feeling her body welcome him home.
Daphne moaned, her hips bucking against his touch. He slipped inside her, inch by inch, until he was fully sheathed. They both groaned, their bodies trembling with the effort to hold back.
He began to move, his hips thrusting in a slow, steady rhythm. He wanted to take his time with her, to savor every moment, every sensation. She met him thrust for thrust, her body moving in sync with his, their dance as old as time itself. He could feel her breath hitching, could feel her nails digging into his back, could feel her legs wrapping tighter around him, urging him on.
He reached between them, his fingers finding her clit, already swollen and sensitive. She cried out, her body convulsing around him, her hips bucking wildly. He held on, his body tensing with the effort to maintain his control. He wanted to make this last, wanted to draw out her pleasure, wanted to watch her fall apart in his arms.
He could feel her tightening around him, her body tensing, and her breath coming in short gasps. He knew she was close. He felt the same telltale signs of her impending release once again.
"I'm close, Daph," he whispered.
"Me too, Harry…" she moaned. "Ah… please… please…"
He circled her clit, his touch firm and steady, feeling her body respond, feeling her tighten around him. The sensation was otherworldly—one he wanted to keep feeling forever.
That did it. Her body convulsed, her back arching, and her mouth open as she let out a loud wail of pure pleasure. He felt her pulse around him, her body milking him, as her pleasure washed over her in waves. The sight of her face contorted in utter ecstasy and the look in her lovely eyes, lost in her release, pushed him over the edge. With a final, powerful thrust, he came, his body shuddering with the force of his release.
Daphne moaned, almost tearing up at the sensation of his warmth spilling inside her in a ravenous burst, her inner walls milking him for all he was worth as she kept squeezing him inside her. She could barely breathe, could barely move her limbs, and it took all the effort she could muster to keep her arms and legs wrapped around him so tightly. She did not want him to leave her, ever!
They collapsed together, their bodies slick with sweat, their breaths ragged and uneven. He felt her go slack in his arms and rolled to his side, taking her with him, not wanting to break their connection. He could feel her heart pounding against his, could feel the rapid rise and fall of her breasts against his chest, and he held her close, his hand stroking her sweaty hair, and his lips pressing soft kisses to her forehead.
They both knew, at that moment, that they would never get enough of each other. This was more than just physical, more than just sex. This was a connection, deep and profound, something neither had ever experienced before. This was special, and this was not just the work of a ritual or the continuous sexual tension that had been building between them for weeks, although that might have played a part.
It was the culmination of the deep admiration they had organically developed for each other in the weeks they had gotten to know each other. A relationship that had started purely transactional but had quickly developed into something neither could put a name to. And they wouldn't have it any other way.
As they gazed at each other deeply in the eyes, they knew that this was just the beginning. Three orgasms for her and one for him, but they wanted more, needed more. They wanted to spend the rest of the night exploring each other's bodies, learning what made the other gasp, and what made the other moan. They wanted to make the other come again and again and to hear their name from the other's mouth in the throes of passion and pleasure.
His hand that was holding her to him dipped lower, coming to rest on her plump arse, and he gave her a soft squeeze.
"I've dreamt of this moment for weeks now," he whispered, pulling her closer. Daphne let out a soft moan when his softening member slowly slid out of her pussy, feeling the loss of sensation.
"Since that day?" She asked softly.
"Maybe even before that," Harry admitted, making her eyes widen slightly. "Fuck, Daph. I don't know what it is about you, but I've wanted to be with you so bad!"
Her lips curled with amusement as she regarded him. "Daph? That's who I am now?"
"I can call you Daffy if you'd like," he retorted, making her slap his chest with a laugh. Smiling, she buried her face in his chest, sighing in contentment when he wrapped his arms around her tightly, keeping her close.
"I guess Daph will work fine."
She knew how she felt about him, and she had accepted it. Even though she had not said it to him, deep down, she knew he had left it unsaid as well. She could live with it for now. They could have that talk later.
But for now, she just wanted to make love to him until either they were both utterly spent or the morning sun arose.
After all, she did not think there could be any other way for anyone to wish him the best of luck when he went out to face the dragons tomorrow.
-Break-
Her pretty face scrunched in protest when she felt the arms wrapped around her front draw away and the warmth all over her back vanish. Sapphire eyes blinked open blearily as she stretched, turning around to watch him climb out of the bed. Her eyes dropped and took in his bare form for a moment before he started to cover it with his clothes.
His boxers were first, and he was in the middle of putting his trousers on when his eyes fell on her.
For a long moment, they simply stared at each other before he moved, letting the trousers fall where he stood. He walked around the transfigured bed and came to a stop right beside her.
"Morning," he said softly, holding his hand out.
Daphne stared at his hand for a moment before reaching up, allowing him to pull her into a sitting position.
"Morning," she whispered, reaching out to pull the sheet up to cover herself.
"Please don't," he said softly, and Daphne abruptly halted, gazing up at him. She found him gazing at her with such tenderness that it made her heart melt. He gave her a smile when she leaned back, sitting naked from the waist up, all exposed.
"How do you feel?" He asked, slowly sitting down on the bed to her right. Daphne allowed him to take her hand, intertwining their fingers, and she stared. Something about this setting felt… just right.
She shifted her gaze to his face and gave him a smile. "Happy. Relaxed. As if I've thrown a burden off my shoulders."
"I didn't know you considered being a virgin a burden," he remarked cheekily, making her chuckle. Her eyes grew tender soon as she gazed at him, squeezing his hand gently.
"I loved what we did last night, Harry," she said softly. "I loved it so much, I can't explain."
"Well, after seven orgasms in one night, I think that's a given," Harry teased.
Daphne blushed but did not say anything. It was not as if he had told a lie.
Leaning closer, he gently pressed his lips against hers and Daphne held him close, kissing him back lovingly. He pulled back after a few seconds, caressing her cheek with the back of his hand.
"I loved last night as well, Daph. I felt happy. More happy than I've ever felt in my life. And I want to keep feeling the same, if you agree."
Daphne smiled, nodding. "I could do with feeling a bit less sore, but you won't find me complaining."
Harry glanced down at the duvet that covered her, and he pulled it off her, exposing her entirely to his gaze. With a wave of his hand, he brought her as much relief as he could. It was a temporary fix, but it still helped.
Daphne sighed in contentment, smiling at him when she felt the numbness down there. At least it didn't hurt as much anymore.
"Sorry. I should've taken care given it was your first time," he began, only to be cut off when Daphne placed a finger on his lips. He gazed at her in surprise.
"I wanted it too, so you have nothing to apologize for. Trust me, Harry. This is nothing compared to what I felt when I was with you last night," she assured him gently before a teasing smile grew on her face. "Now I get why Parkinson's been glowing so much lately, or how she's so chipper."
Harry chuckled. Regina was a character, all right.
"Where is she, by the way? I would've thought she'd come to you to give you some relaxation before you went out to face a dragon," Daphne remarked casually.
"I enchanted the room so that no one would disturb us," he admitted. "I wanted it to be us, and no one else. Regina is… well, Regina. But what you mean to me… what we share already…" He trailed off, finding the right words as he gazed at the bed, missing the loving smile that appeared on Daphne's face.
She reached out to cup his face, making him look at her. She leaned over, bringing her lips right by his ear, and whispered, "I love you too."
Slowly, she leaned back, watching his wide-eyed look with a smile. "Wow, I didn't think I'd see the day where you'll be shut up like this by anyone, let alone me."
Harry blinked, shaking his head slightly as he replayed Daphne's words in his mind. He felt a pleasant tingle shoot up his spine as her breathy whisper echoed inside him, filling his entire being.
"I don't expect you to say it back, Harry," she said softly, making him look at her. She gave his hand a soft squeeze and continued, "I wanted to say it to you last night. But I didn't want you to think that I'd said it in the heat of the moment. I want you to know how I feel for you, even though we've properly interacted for only a few weeks, but hey, who gets to decide how quickly you fall for someone? I don't think there's any hard and fast rule when it comes to love."
Harry had never known love. He had never experienced it or understood what it felt like to be in love with someone, but he believed it had to be something similar to what he felt for Daphne. She was indeed correct. No one but you could decide when and how you fell in love with someone. There was no gospel, no written text that could preach about this feeling.
Yet, Harry could not bring himself to say those words back to her, and as he gazed into her sapphire orbs, all he saw was understanding.
He leaned forward and captured her lips in a searing kiss, almost taking her breath away. They shifted as he pushed her back, and in no time, Daphne found herself lying on the bed once again with Harry on top of her, their lips moving together in a passionate kiss.
Those three words… They meant the world to him. No one had ever said those words to him—the privilege having been stolen from him when he had been a mere toddler—and now here she was, exposing her vulnerabilities to him with such ease that it left no doubt in his mind as to what her true feelings were.
He had someone who loved him. That made him feel like the happiest person on Earth.
He felt Daphne pat him gently on the arm and leaned back, hovering over her heaving form. As he saw her like that—a lovely vision with her lightly colored hair sprawled over on the bed where they had pleasured each other so much throughout the previous night—he felt like the luckiest bastard alive.
"You know I'll love to, Harry… But I still feel sore despite the spell," she smiled, and as Harry glanced down, he saw his erection was straining against his trousers and was pressing firmly against her womanhood.
"Sorry," Harry smiled and shifted to the side, allowing her to sit back up.
"Soon, I promise," Daphne smiled, caressing his face, and he could not help but lean into her touch.
"You make me seem like I'm a sex-hungry deviant or something," he muttered, and Daphne could not help but chuckle.
"Well," she mused aloud, "technically, you are."
She tapped his runes for good measure, and Harry sighed in acceptance. He indeed was now.
"I know it's not something you can help, Harry," she said softly, making him turn back to her. "And I've known since when you told me about it that you can never be with one woman. You'll keep exploring, as it were. It's the path you chose when you decided to do that ritual."
"I know I can't ask you to—"
"Let me finish, please," Daphne interrupted him gently, making him shut up. "I know what this entails, Harry. And I want you to know I'm not going away just because I have to share you with others."
Surprised, Harry stared at her as she continued smiling at him. "I'm a stubborn one, Harry. Everyone in my family says so. If I fixate on something, I'd never give it up. Well, looks like you're the one in my life now."
"Daphne, I—"
"Daph," she interrupted coyly. "Isn't that what you were calling me earlier? And you don't need to say anything. I know how much you've wanted me since the start, Harry. You might think you're sneaky, but I can spot those looks easily, just like all girls can."
Harry chuckled, shaking his head.
"Good to see you find it amusing," Daphne remarked. "Getting back to what I was saying—I know how you feel, and you know how I feel. There is no need to overthink or overcomplicate the situation. You have the girl you want willing to stick herself to you. So just shut up and accept it."
Harry stared at her for a long time, before he finally shook his head with a rueful smile.
"Well, in that case, I'd be an idiot to say no," he replied.
"You would be," she smiled, stealing another quick kiss from him. As she leaned back, however, her eyes traveled over the runes he had carved on his skin as part of that ritual. Seeing the question in her eyes, Harry sighed and shifted on the bed, taking up the spot by her side and pulling her close. Daphne cuddled up to him, one hand on his chest where she absentmindedly brushed her fingers over a rune while Harry clasped the other with his in her lap, their fingers intertwined.
Slowly, he told her everything—from his motivation to doing that ritual, to what it had entailed, and what each rune meant and represented. Daphne listened with growing shock and fascination as Harry laid everything bare to her, especially when he told her how his magic accepted only those witches who passed some sort of filter that made him trust them, and it made her realize how much he truly trusted her if he had told her everything he had so far.
She sighed with slight exasperation when he told her about how he had screwed up during the ritual that had led to their very first encounter right in this very room. His losing control like that had been the result of a slight oversight on his part which he had fixed soon after.
By the time he was done explaining, Daphne was left with many questions—the most pertinent one about a certain Dark Lord who, it seemed, was not as dead as the world would like to believe. However, she chose not to delve too deep into such topics at this hour.
Before she could respond though, the sound of footsteps came from right outside the door. The knob turned and the door opened loudly, revealing none other than Regina Parkinson whose impatient look evaporated the moment she laid eyes on the couple cuddled up on the bed with not a stitch of clothing on them visible from where she stood.
Regina faltered, her brain playing catch-up with her eyes, and it took her a few seconds to make a proper sense of what she was seeing in front of her. She finally managed to formulate a response, although her eyes were still wide as she gazed at them.
"Well, this is an unexpected sight."