分卷阅读37（1 / 2）

Draco wanted to protest when he felt the push and the heat of Potter’s body vanish, but his breath caught in his throat when Potter’s fingers softly brushed his back, pushing up his shirt, and he felt Potter’s breath, teasingly, against his skin. Draco moaned as Potter’s lips ghosted over his back, brushing his skin ever so slightly.

“Bloody tease,” he ground out, his grip on the chair tightening. Potter had the nerve to chuckle, before his hands latched onto Draco’s hips and his mouth moved lower. Draco felt him shift, as if he was getting down on his knees. He arched his back inadvertently when Potter started massaging his backside, while his hot breath kept teasing his skin. One of Potter’s hands darted up to Draco’s back, only to be dragged down agonisingly slowly. Draco bit back another moan when Potter’s fingers reached his cleft. He heard Potter hum, before his fingers were suddenly replaced by something hot and wet. Fuck! He couldn’t help but shiver as Potter licked his way from Draco’s balls to the small of his back. Sweet Salazar! A couple more minutes of this and Draco would be ready to come.

Potter made an appreciative sound as Draco trembled beneath his touch.

“Spread your legs a little more,” Potter said. Draco groaned. He tried, but his trousers were in the way, trapping his legs. Potter seemed to notice and quickly helped Draco out of them. Legs spread wide and heart pounding in his chest, Draco waited for Potter’s next move. Warm hands were on his arse in an instant.

“Fuck, yes,” Potter hissed. Draco choked, his cock throbbing, as Potter spread his cheeks apart and his tongue dipped into his cleft once more.

“Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Oh—”

Draco’s eyes fluttered open. Confused, he blinked a few times, before he realised he was indeed lying in the dark. In his bed. Alone.

Shit!

Panting, he wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. He could still feel Potter’s touch on his skin. Only, unlike in his dream, it didn’t feel arousing anymore. It felt like some invisible force was crashing down on him, stifling him.

It wasn’t the first time he had dreamed about Potter. But never had it felt so real. Never had it been this devastating to wake up, to realise it had only been a dream. His cock seemed to agree. Apparently, there would be no need to take care of it.

He turned on his side, hugging his knees close to his torso. Why, why did it have to be like this? Why wouldn’t the universe stop torturing him? He knew he didn’t deserve happiness. But did he really deserve to suffer like this?

He instantly told his mind to shut up, before the wave of self-loathing could choke him. He knew he wasn’t worthy of Potter. Honestly, he wasn’t worthy of his fiancée, either. Ex- fiancée, he corrected himself. Maybe this was the way it should be, for him to be alone for the rest of his life. And maybe that prospect wouldn’t have seemed so terrifying and gut- wrenching if there hadn’t been this agonising pain, this gaping hole in his chest, exposing his heart, which was screaming and yearning for Potter.

Friday, 23 May 2003

“Are you still pouting?”

“I’m not pouting.”

“He’s still pouting.”

“Shut up, Blaise. And you,” Draco pointed a warning finger at Pansy, “you promised to keep your mouth shut. So much for that.”

“Salazar, I hate when you’re in a bad mood,” Pansy said, rolling her eyes. “You always drag everyone else down with you.”

“You’re one to talk,” Draco huffed.

“Obviously, I’m far more delightful than you,” she retorted. Her expression turned more thoughtful as she tapped her fingers against her thighs. “Look, it’s been two months.”