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“Fuck,” Harry swore as he slid the swollen, leaking head of his cock inside her.
He felt the way her inner walls clenched, trying to suck him in deeper.
A myriad of emotions flickered across Hermione’s face, a moan escaping, her lips forming a perfect “O” as he sank in inch by inch.
“Harry,” she whispered, fingernails digging into the tops of his shoulders.
She was so bloody warm.
So wet.
Tight.
Perfect.
A groan rumbled in his chest when he finally buried himself to the hilt inside of her.
Hermione let out a breathy gasp, her eyes fluttering closed as she adjusted to the stretch.
Her cunt pulsed around his cock and Harry almost lost it right then.
“Not yet,” a voice said from behind. “Don't you dare fucking come yet, Potter. Fuck her slow. Make it last.”
Harry groaned again, face dropping down between her breasts as he fought to reign himself in.
He pulled out before sinking back in with aching slowness.
Hermione's hands carded in his hair, pulling at the short strands at the base of his neck.
She canted her hips up to meet him.
A tsk came from over his shoulder.
“Look at how needy she is,” the same voice murmured. “So fucking needy for your cock, just like you are for mine, aren't you, Potter?”
Harry's arms began to shake with the focus it was taking not to thrust faster, to chase his release, the filthy words causing his pace to falter as self-consciousness prickled up his spine.
He didn't know how to answer him.
Had never said the words out loud other than when they sat down with him and first suggested the idea of tonight.
But he'd wanted it for years.
Decades really.
Secretly, deep down in the most hidden places.
He'd never said it but somehow Hermione had known anyway.
She’d always known him better than he knew himself.
It was half the reason he was so fucking in love with her.
When she'd first brought it up as her idea for his thirty-fifth birthday, Harry had been rendered speechless.
His mouth had gone dry, and something had swirled in his stomach that felt an awful lot like desire.
“I want to give you this, Harry,” Hermione said before tilting her face up and kissing him sweetly. “I want to see you lose yourself with him. I know you've always wondered and if I’m honest, so have I. Besides, I know for certain he'd be interested.”
Harry’s head snapped up from where he'd been staring down at his hands.
His tongue suddenly felt too big for his mouth.
“He—er, he’d be—interested?” He blurted out before cringing.
He sounded eager.
Too eager.
But Hermione just gave him a knowing smile.
“Believe it or not, he talks about you just as much as you've always talked about him,” she said.
Harry stared at his wife, mind struggling to comprehend what she was saying.
When she first told him she would be working with Draco Malfoy in the Department of Mysteries after he'd been hired by the Ministry ten years ago, Harry had immediately been suspicious.
Even though he'd testified for Malfoy after the war, ensured he wasn't sent to Azkaban, had even volunteered to be the auror assigned to supervise his probation to make sure he was treated fairly, Harry still couldn't help the wariness that immediately came over him any time he heard the name Draco Malfoy.
Sure, it had eased a bit as Hermione befriended him over the years. Harry joined them often when they went out for drinks at the Leaky after work.
Even Harry wasn’t blind enough not to notice how much he’d changed since the war.
Losing his wife to a family blood curse a few years after the war, and raising their son on his own, had matured Malfoy in a way Harry did not envy.
He was still a posh git, but there was no longer a bite to his insults and humor danced in his eyes more often than not.
He was smart and funny and Harry had long ago stopped minding his company.
Not that Harry would ever admit that.
But admitting they were friendly was not the same as admitting he had thoughts about what Malfoy’s cock would taste like in his mouth.
That he’d had them for years.
Harry swallowed.
“Hermione, I'm not—”
“Gay?” she finished for him.
Heat crept up his neck and he nodded once.
Hermione reached over and covered his hand with hers.
He squeezed her fingers, desperately needing the reassurance she offered.
“I know you love me, Harry, I know you're attracted to me,” she said softly. “But I know you’re attracted to him too and I'm okay with that. I think you've wanted this for a while, and I want to give it to you, if you’ll let me.”
Harry ran a hand through his hair.
His entire body felt hot. The urge to tell her she was wrong, that she'd misunderstood the rivalry that had always existed between them as interest, was overwhelming.
He didn't like blokes.
He'd been around them for years, seen enough of them naked in locker rooms to know that his cock didn’t so much as twitch around them.
Except for when he looked at Draco Malfoy.
Harry had never told a soul, not even Ron, what he had often wanked to in school.
Hermione certainly had been prominent in his fantasies, but there had always been…someone else there too.
One fantasy he’d only allowed himself to indulge a handful of times.
The image of Draco in his quidditch kit brought him off within minutes every single time.
He had been insufferable in school.
Arrogant, awful.
And he'd always had a special talent for getting a rise out of Harry.
The fact that he was ridiculously attractive had only added fuel to the fire that burned hot in Harry’s teenage stomach whenever he thought of him when he was alone in his four-poster bed.
But then the war happened and none of them were the same people they had been before.
And Harry had fallen in love with Hermione.
It started in the Forest of Dean after Ron left.
They had taken comfort in each other in the only way that made sense back then.
When Ron came back, they’d pretended it never happened.
But then Harry died.
And then not died.
And when they all came back for their eighth year, broken and lost, they had found that familiar comfort with each other again.
Falling in love with Hermione had been so easy.
It hadn’t taken him long to realize it was because he'd been falling for years.
They married a few years after graduation and their children, James Sirius and Lily Rose were off at Hogwarts now.
Harry loved her, trusted her, more than any other person.
He blew out a breath.
“Okay,” he said.
A smile split her cheeks, and she swung her leg over his, straddling him.
“It's going to be so good, Harry,” she breathed, brushing her lips to his. “I'll talk to him, invite him over so we can talk about it privately, yeah?”
He returned her kiss, his cock already pressing against his zipper at the thought and at the feel of her in his lap.
“Yeah.”
Draco Malfoy came over for dinner a week later.
“You want me to spend the night with you,” he repeated slowly after Hermione had finished explaining their proposal.
Harry took a large swallow from his wine glass.
Hermione nodded emphatically beside him.
“Yes,” she said, squeezing Harry's hand under the table and giving him a reassuring smile. Harry only managed a grimace in return.
He hadn't been able to look up since the minute they'd sat down and Hermione had launched into the explanation.
“Both of you,” Malfoy clarified.
Hermione squeezed his hand again, a silent urging.
Harry glanced at her before coughing, sitting up straighter in his chair.
“Er—yeah,” he said hoarsely. “Both of us.”
There was a pause.
“If you can't even look at me and say you want me to fuck you, Potter, I don't know how this is going to work.”
Harry's eyes snapped up, landing on Draco’s piercing gray gaze that was already fixed on his face.
For a moment, he couldn't speak. He wasn't even sure if he was still breathing.
It wasn't fucking fair that he was so Gods damn fit.
He cleared his throat, feeling the familiar defiance that always rose in him when they had a go at each other swell up in his chest.
“Hermione and I would like you to come to bed with us,” Harry said, voice low and rough. “And I want you to fuck me, while I fuck her.”
Draco's mouth curved up into a smug smirk that made Harry want to snog it right off.
Something brushed his leg under the table.
“On one condition,” Draco said, dragging the toe of his shoe along Harry's calf.
Harry didn't know if he wanted to kick him away or beg him to go higher.
They waited.
“You both do as I say,” Draco said. “We'll talk about limits and boundaries beforehand but once we start, you do as I say.”
Draco's eyes never left Harry's face as he said this, and Harry understood he was speaking to him while phrasing it as if it was meant for them both.
Harry turned to Hermione and saw that she was already looking at him, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth.
She smiled and nodded and he realized that she too had understood the silent meaning in Draco's request.
Harry looked back at Draco.
“Okay.”
Hermione's lips found his ear.
“It's okay, Harry,” she said. “Tell him how much you want it.”
Another slow thrust.
“Yeah,” he breathed, lifting his head and meeting her gaze. “I want it.”
“Use your words Harry, darling,” Draco drawled behind him. “Tell me what you want.”
Fuck.
Had Draco ever called him by his name before?
Had anyone ever called him darling before?
He and Hermione didn't really use pet names.
Hearing it in Draco’s low drawl liquefied Harry's insides.
Hermione’s eyes burned with heat and desire as she watched his face as he reacted, watched as his lips parted in an open-mouthed pant.
She lifted one of her hands that had been in his hair and brought it to her chest. Using her thumb and index finger, she began to pluck at her nipples.
“Watch your wife touch herself, darling. Look at how she pinches her gorgeous nipples. Take one in your mouth.”
Harry obeyed, not needing to be told twice, capturing Hermione’s nipple between his lips. He sucked and licked it with swirling patterns of his tongue and lips followed by brief tugs with his teeth.
Hermione's moans became a steady exhale of pleas.
And then suddenly a firm chest pressed against Harry’s back where he stood at the edge of the bed, bent over Hermione.
“What do you want, Harry?” Draco murmured.
Before he could answer, Harry gasped when a pair of soft lips pressed a wet open mouth kiss between his shoulder blades.
Harry’s hips punched forward instinctively, thrusting into Hermione so hard, it pushed her up the bed.
“Harry!” Hermione cried, bucking up. “Yes!”
“Say it,” Draco hissed and then Harry felt the long hard length of a cock pressing against the cleft of his ass.
Harry’s brain was short-circuiting, his breaths coming out in great heaves as he fought the overload of sensation.
Hermione’s cunt was still squeezing him, her wetness drenching the sheets beneath them, and Draco sucking hard kisses along his spine, marking him as he rocked his hips against Harry’s ass.
“Draco—please,” Harry managed finally.
An index finger slipped between his crease and brushed against his puckered hole.
Harry cried out, dropping onto his forearms over Hermione.
She stole his lips in a searing kiss before he could even attempt to catch his breath.
“Please, what?” Draco murmured seductively, lips finding the side of his neck, ghosting over the sensitive skin of his pulse point before sucking hard.
Harry choked on a breath, hips stuttering before stopping altogether.
He was no longer even participating in the kiss Hermione was still pressing to his lips, his mouth open in a silent moan.
“Fuck me! Please—I need—fuck—" the tip of Draco’s finger slipped past the tight ring of muscle of his asshole and Harry saw stars. “Fuck—I-I need—want you to fuck me, Draco.”
He felt Hermione’s lips curve up and she licked the inside of his mouth.
“Yes,” she breathed. “I want to feel him fuck you, Harry. Feel the way he—”
“Fuck!” Harry shouted when two hands suddenly gripped his ass cheeks firmly, parting them and then a wet, hot tongue pressed against his asshole.
He was trembling violently now as Draco licked him fervently. There was a desperation to it, an eagerness as if he was determined to make Harry lose his mind as quickly as possible.
And it was working.
“I'm gonna come,” Harry ground out through clenched teeth as he willed every fiber of his being stop rocketing towards the orgasm that was rapidly licking up the base of his spine.
It had been one of Draco’s conditions that he tell him when he was close.
Hermione was running her hands up and down his arms, over his shoulders. She was whispering in his ear, but Harry had no idea what the fuck she was saying, incapable of focusing on anything other than the ecstasy that was the feeling of Draco Malfoy’s tongue on his ass.
Hermione undulated her hips where she lay under him, slowly fucking herself on his cock that was still buried inside of her.
All at once, Draco pulled away and Harry swore loudly, back arching as he instinctively tried to chase his mouth.
He heard a low chuckle over the roaring in his ears.
“So fucking needy.” Draco whispered.
Driven by his need, Harry pulled himself up enough to look over his shoulder at the other man.
What he found was Draco, naked and stroking his cock.
His long, thick, leaking cock.
Draco's chest was rising and falling rapidly, a pink flush covering his pale skin.
His hair was disheveled as if he'd been running a hand through it and his eyes were dark, the darkest Harry had ever seen them as he stared at Harry bent over the bed, fucking his wife.
He met Harry's gaze and smirked.
That fucking smirk.
Harry thrust hard into Hermione.
Draco's nostrils flared.
The velvety feel of Hermione’s snug cunt pulled a groan from him, and he turned back to look at her.
Hermione's pupils were dilated, her lips swollen as she looked between the two of them.
She had slid a hand down to her clit while Harry had been having his silent battle of wills with Draco and she was now swiping slow circles over the bundle of nerves.
“Put her hands over her head,” Draco said.
Hermione whimpered and Harry waited a beat, searching her face to make sure she was all right, before reaching down and taking her hands in both of his before pinning them to the mattress above her head, stretching her body taut.
She moaned and pushed her breasts up, her nipples pebbling.
“Fuck her faster.”
His body complied without question, hips slapping against Hermione’s as he picked up the pace and began to piston into her.
But damn it, he couldn't help himself.
Harry looked back over his shoulder.
Draco held his stare as wet slapping sounds intermixed with Hermione’s loud moans filled the room.
“It'll be your turn soon, Harry,” he murmured, his hand still slowly stroking his cock.
Harry's mouth watered as he stared, utterly transfixed.
He'd never seen anything hotter in his entire life.
Draco noticed.
Of course he did.
Git.
“Do you want to taste?”
The question was barely even whispered before Harry was nodding.
He wondered if he should feel embarrassed at his eagerness.
If Draco would taunt him for it.
But he didn't, he just watched Harry with a heated expression.
“Hermione, love, do you think you can tend to yourself for a while?” Draco asked, eyes still on Harry's face even though he spoke to Hermione.
“Yes,” came Hermione’s breathy reply.
“Come here, Harry. On your knees.”
Harry’s eyes went wide and he pulled out of Hermione as if in a trance.
He glanced back at his wife and saw as she shuffled up the bed to the stack of pillows, sprawling against them and spreading her legs wide.
Harry stared at the glistening folds of her cunt, swollen and pink from their fucking.
Hermione held his stare as she dragged a hand down her body, over her soft stomach, down between her legs.
Without preamble, she slid two fingers inside her cunt and stifled a gasp, pressing the heel of her hand to her clit.
Fuck.
Watching Hermione touch herself had always been and would always be Harry’s favorite fucking thing.
He usually took over with his mouth before she could come.
Maybe he could—
“Harry.”
Harry’s head snapped back around to Draco at his soft call of his name.
Draco had moved closer in Harry’s distraction. He now stood only a few steps away.
His hand still moved up and down his own shaft in slow, deliberate movements.
“Get on your knees,”
Harry didn’t remember deciding to obey, only felt the plush carpet beneath him as his knees hit the ground with a soft thump.
A hand carded through his hair, tightening in the strands before wrenching his head back.
“Fuck, you want this so much, don’t you?” Draco breathed where he loomed over him.
Harry couldn’t answer, couldn’t do anything but stare at the pale cock that bobbed against his stomach now only a handful of inches away.
Harry licked his lips and Draco groaned.
“Say it,” he gritted out, hips jutting forward and pressing the head of his cock to Harry’s lips. “Say it and I’ll let you suck me off and then I’ll fuck you so hard, you won’t remember your own name.”
Harry moaned softly, dragging his eyes up, over the defined muscles of his abdomen, over the firm chest that still bore the scars of Harry’s dangerous recklessness in sixth year, up to a sharp jawline and finally to the slate grey eyes that stared down at him.
Holding Draco’s gaze, Harry leaned forward and nuzzled his face against the leaking shaft. His nose pressed to the patch of blonde hair at the base. He smelled like musk and salt and Draco.
“I want this,” he rasped. “So fucking much, Malfoy.”
Draco’s nostrils flared.
“Open,” he murmured, one hand coming down to gently cup Harry’s jaw as he guided his face up.
Harry’s mouth dutifully opened wide, as wide as he could manage and the flared head of Draco’s cock pressed past his lips.
Harry tasted him on his tongue and moaned again as his precum hit his tastebuds.
He sucked instinctively and barely heard the sharp inhale of breath above him over the roaring in his ears.
It was unfamiliar and awkward but if it made Draco make noises like that, Harry would do this all night.
He surged forward eagerly, swallowing too much and choking when Draco brushed against his gag reflex.
“Slow down,” Draco instructed softly, thumb pressing into his cheek. “Breathe through your nose and go slow. I want to savor this.”
Harry stopped what he was doing and slowly, so fucking slowly, drew back his head until only the tip of Draco’s cock remained in his mouth and then he slowly bobbed forward.
He tried to imitate what Hermione did for him anytime she sucked him off.
Swiping his tongue across the slit across the head, humming when he took him deep, and bringing one of his hands up to stroke the parts he could not reach.
All the while, Hermione’s moans from the bed continued and Harry hadn’t realized he had begun stroking his own cock with his free hand until Draco tutted.
“Stop touching yourself,” he ordered. “You’re not allowed to come until you’re balls deep inside your wife and you feel my cock in your guts.”
“Oh Gods—yes!” Hermione moaned and Harry would deny the whimper that slipped out of his own mouth till his dying breath.
Fuck.
Draco’s fingers stroked his cheek softly.
“Do you remember when you used to come to my flat for my probation checks?” He crooned as he began to thrust shallowly in time with Harry’s sloppy movements. Drool and precum dripped down his chin but he didn’t stop, didn’t slow. “I used to fantasize about throwing you down and fucking you in your stupid auror uniform. You looked so fucking hot, I hated you for it.”
A stuttered gasp of air tried to leave Harry’s throat, but it was stopped by Draco’s cock.
The inhale allowed his cock to slide even deeper and Harry moaned loudly, the sound muffled where his lips were stretched wide, but Draco still felt the vibration.
“Fuck,” Draco swore, hands pulling Harry’s hair until sharp pinpricks of pain skittered across his scalp. “Hermione, you didn’t tell me he’d be such a fucking slut for me.”
Hermione’s answer was a soft cry of pleasure and Harry fought the urge to go to her at the obscene wet sounds coming from where she continued to frig herself behind him.
It turned him on even more knowing his wife was enjoying the show they were putting on.
But he obeyed, dropping his hand from his throbbing cock, bringing it up instead to grip the pale muscled thighs that stood in front of him.
He bobbed his head faster.
Eventually, Harry’s jaw began to cramp and his knees began to ache.
How did he have this much stamina? He wondered after a while.
Harry didn’t think he’d last ten seconds of Malfoy’s mouth wrapped around his cock, let alone however long they’d been doing this for.
He looked up, hoping his eyes could communicate his question.
When could they move this to the bed?
Only…Draco wasn’t looking at him.
A zing of pleasure shot through Harry as he saw the other man’s head was thrown back to the ceiling, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth.
It was a heady feeling to know he’d done that to him.
Harry was sure Draco had had better blow jobs before.
He was inexperienced and messy.
But maybe it was because it was the two of them that made up for it. That made it better.
Whatever it was, Harry wanted to see it. Wanted to witness the pure unadulterated pleasure he knew was on his face.
He dug his nails into the muscles of his thighs, and Draco let out of hiss, his head snapping up to look down at him.
Draco’s lips parted immediately in understanding.
Harry wanted him to see him fall apart in his fucking mouth.
As if he knew just how much he wanted it, Draco immediately shifted his hips back, pulling his cock from his mouth.
Harry fell forward off balance at the abruptness, barely catching himself.
“What—” he began hotly only for Draco’s hand once again to yank his head back.
“Get on the fucking bed and let your wife ride your face. Make her come, Potter, or you won’t,” he said, voice gruff.
Harry stared up at him, his own cock hard and aching where it hung between his thighs.
Fuck, why did he like it so much when Malfoy told him what to do?
His eyes caught on Malfoy’s cock bobbing against his stomach, dripping with Harry’s spit and his own precum. The sight had him lurching to his feet on unsteady legs.
He closed the distance between them in two short strides, barely registering the look of surprise that crossed Draco’s face before his hands came up to grab either side of his face and then Harry crashed his mouth to his.
The force of the kiss made Draco stumble and Harry followed, backing him against the wall.
It was a messy clash of teeth and tongue, and Harry felt the fight to push him off seep out of Draco and then he raised a hand to Harry's jaw, cupping it, slowing him and taking control of the kiss.
It was...different than kissing Hermione.
The mechanics were the same, but there was something else.
Hermione always tasted like honey and sugar quills. Her kisses were soft and loving and could drive him wild with just a few brushes of her lips.
Kissing Draco was like two parts of himself coming together in a violent, life altering crash.
Draco tasted like mint and firewhiskey and there was a subtle taste of spice, something earthy as if he'd smoked a muggle cigarette before coming here.
Harry realized too late that Draco could probably taste himself on Harry's tongue and fleetingly wondered if he minded.
The needy way he was licking into Harry's mouth made him think he didn't.
Harry was pressed against every inch of him, as close as he could get.
The first time their cocks rubbed together, Harry let out a choked noise.
It was...nothing had ever felt like that before.
Not his hand.
Not Hermione.
Harry didn't realize he had begun grinding against him until Draco let out a low chuckle.
“Patience, darling,” he murmured, pulling back slightly. He raked a hand through Harry's messy hair before suddenly fisting it. He wrenched his head back.
Harry let out a hiss of pain that turned into a loud moan when Draco leaned forward and licked a long slow stripe up the column of his throat.
“Fuck!” Harry shouted.
“I told you where I want you,” Draco murmured against his skin. “Don't make me say it again.”
A shiver went through him at the veiled threat.
For a moment, Harry considered finding out exactly what he would do to him if he didn't listen.
Something told him he would enjoy it.
But then Draco shoved him back, not hard, but enough to put distance between their bodies.
Harry's eyes raked over his disheveled form and something that felt like pride bubbled up in his chest as he took in Draco's flushed cheeks, his dilated pupils and his perfect fucking lips that were swollen from Harry's kisses.
Instinct had him dropping his hand to his cock, taking himself in his own fist as he slowly began to walk backwards towards the bed.
Two could play this game.
Draco's eyes tracked the movements and turned hooded as he watched Harry stroke himself.
Harry tasted blood and realized his teeth had dug into his bottom lips so hard, he'd broken skin.
Fuck, he was going to come if he didn't stop. If he didn't break this trance.
He turned abruptly to the bed, back to Hermione who had stopped touching herself and lay sprawled against the pillows watching them with a heated, knowing glint in her eyes.
Harry's cheeks heated as he remembered that she had witnessed everything, had watched him lose control and snog the life out of the one man he had for so much of his life, sworn he hated.
Those feelings felt like a lifetime ago.
The corner of Hermione’s mouth lifted when she caught his gaze and she crooked a finger, beckoning him to her.
Harry's knees found the bed and he crawled towards her.
She sat up, looping her arms around his neck when he reached her and pulled him down for a kiss.
His cock twitched when he realized she could taste Malfoy.
Hermione didn’t seem to mind.
“Okay?” she breathed.
Harry dropped his forehead to hers, realizing he was still trembling, the adrenaline, the weight of what had taken place over the last hour still coursing through his veins like fiendfyre and the night was nowhere near being over.
Her thumb stroked his cheek as she waited for him to reply.
Harry knew if he gave her any indication that he wasn't okay, Hermione would stop all of it. She wouldn't question him, despite how much she was clearly enjoying herself.
His perfect fucking witch.
He nodded once.
“Brilliant,” he mumbled hoarsely before kissing her again.
He could feel her cunt warm and wet where he had pressed his thigh between her legs.
With a reluctant groan, he pulled back, tapping her hip with two fingers.
“Sit on my face, love,” he said softly, reaching between them to stroke his fingers through her folds.
Hermione bit her lip but he could see the smirk in her eyes as she obeyed the command, pushing on his shoulder for him to move which he obliged, flipping over onto his back.
His eyes flicked to the foot of the bed where Draco stood, eyes burning as he watched them.
He had been strangely quiet and Harry wondered if he was jealous of their intimacy.
As far as he knew, he hadn't been in a serious relationship with anyone since his wife Astoria.
He had dated of course.
Not a month went by that didn’t have photographs of him with a witch or wizard on his arm in The Daily Prophet.
But meaningless sex was just that-meaningless.
It had never interested Harry.
He wouldn’t trade the trust and love he had with Hermione for anything.
A sudden urge to include Draco in what they were sharing came over him and Harry held his gaze as he shuffled down the mattress right to the edge where he stood. Then he lowered his feet to the ground on either side of Malfoy’s hips.
The position felt strangely intimate as he all but straddled him the way he would if Draco fucked him from the front.
Harry’s attention shifted when Hermione’s hands settled on his shoulders as she swung one leg over his head, giving Draco her back as she knelt above Harry's face.
His mouth watered as his hands automatically came up to grip the tops of her thighs, fingers digging into the supple flesh firmly as he pulled her down.
A loud keen broke in Hermione’s throat when he latched his lips around her clit and sucked hard.
And then Harry alternated using his tongue to lick patterns through her drenched folds with dipping it inside her with firm jabs.
He didn't know how long he ate her for, lost to his wife's pleasure as she ground her cunt down against his mouth while chanting his name.
“Yes! Yes! Harry—yes!”
He increased his efforts, sucking and licking, and felt her thighs shaking before she splintered apart with a scream.
Harry lapped at her as she gushed all over her face.
He swallowed it down greedily, burying his face in her, determined to make her come again.
Before he could, he heard the whisper of a spell seconds before he felt a sudden warming sensation on his asshole.
Harry jerked, his yelp muffled by Hermione’s cunt.
He realized what it was when cool fingers suddenly gripped the underside of both his knees and bent his legs up until his feet rested on the edge of the bed.
Draco had cast a lubrication and loosening charm on him.
He was going to—
“Hermione, love, move here for me,” Draco murmured, speaking for the first time in several minutes.
Harry was gasping when Hermione slid off his mouth, moving down his body, her dripping cunt leaving a wet trail on his skin.
He lifted his head and watched as Draco’s hands found her waist and he helped lift her until she hovered just above Harry’s weeping cock where it stood at attention, begging to be touched.
And then his mind turned completely blank and he flung his head back with a stuttered,
“F-Fuck!” When Draco reached a hand around and took Harry’s cock in his hand and guided him to Hermione’s opening.
Draco’s fingers were sure and swift as he gripped him and Harry could hardly stand it, suddenly wanting nothing more than to fuck his fist until he came.
But then Hermione’s snug warmth enveloped him as she slid down on his shaft, not stopping until he was buried inside her to the hilt and Draco’s hand fell away.
“Fuck,” Harry said again weakly.
Hermione’s inner walls clenched around him.
Harry fisted the sheets on either side of him and couldn’t help but buck his hips up, fucking into her deeper.
Hermione fell forward over him, her hands finding purchase on his chest as she steadied herself.
Harry thrust up again and she moaned, her breath hot on the side of his neck.
She began to swivel her hips, dragging her clit across his pelvis with every pass.
He fisted her curls and brought her mouth to his, swallowing her cries.
Obscene wet sounds filled the air as they moved together.
Harry’s balls began to draw tight.
“Wait,” Draco suddenly commanded sharply. “Not yet, Potter.”
“Fuck,” Harry swore.
How the fuck had he known?
Harry groaned but obeyed, resisting the need that crawled over every inch of his skin as he tightened his hold on Hermione’s waist and slowed her.
“Why?” He gritted out.
Draco chuckled darkly and that was when Harry felt him.
Felt the blunt head of his cock move between his legs and press against him.
“Because,” Draco growled hoarsely. Harry wondered fleetingly if he wasn’t in as much control as he’d been pretending. “I fucking said so.”
Harry didn’t have time to think of something to snark back because his vision whited out as Draco pushed past the tight ring of muscle and slid inside him.
Harry didn’t recognize the sound that tore from his throat.
Didn’t know what nonsensical madness he was babbling.
He could have promised Draco all the money in his vaults for all he knew.
“Fuck—I—fuck, yes—Draco—please—”
Harry had never begged for anything before.
But he would beg for this.
This perfect, utterly overwhelming feeling of being filled and being the one that filled.
His cock twitched inside Hermione, warning Harry that he was dangerously close to erupting.
He tried to breathe through his nose, tried to focus, to get himself under control.
It was too much and not enough all at once.
“Hermione,” he heard Draco say distantly. “With me.”
Somehow, in Harry's blissed out mind, he registered the slight shifting of Hermione’s body above him as she sat up and leaned back against Draco’s chest.
He couldn't hear what Draco whispered in her ear, only saw his wife nod, her eyes fluttering closed as a pale hand curled around her hip, dipping down to the apex of her thighs.
And as Draco swiped the first circle over her clit, they began to move in tandem.
With every rise of Hermione’s hips, Draco thrust inside of him. With every lowering, he withdrew.
It was a push and pull of the most mind-blowing sort.
Somehow, Harry realized he had gone from the one doing the fucking, to the one being fucked in every sense of the word.
Sweat beaded on his forehead, every muscle in his body straining as he tried to keep his eyes open and not surrender completely to the bliss coursing through him.
Goose pebbles rose on his skin when Hermione tilted her face and captured Draco’s mouth in a kiss.
“Fuck,” Harry whispered, completely entranced.
His voice drew Draco’s attention, his eyes opening, though his lips continued to move against Hermione’s.
Draco held his gaze as he continued to snap his hips against Harry's ass in a slow, torturous rhythm.
Biting his lip and still holding Draco’s stare, Harry ghosted his hands up Hermione’s thighs, holding her steady, and thrust up again.
Hermione gasped, breaking their kiss and Draco grunted, his eyes flashing dangerously.
“Yes,” he hissed, punctuating the word with a particularly hard thrust. “Fuck your wife while I fuck you, Harry.”
Harry's eyes rolled back when Malfoy’s cock brushed what he could only assume was his prostate.
His hips bucked up of their own accord, and he used the leverage of his planted feet to piston hard into Hermione.
“Comingcomingcoming—Harry—oh Gods, I’m coming!” Hermione’s whole body went taut and her lips formed a silent "O".
Harry cursed when her orgasm made her clench so hard around him, it felt like she was going to choke his cock.
“That's it,” Draco groaned, pressing open mouth kisses to the side of her neck, to the top of her shoulder, anywhere he could reach with his mouth. “Come all over his cock, love. Let him feel you.”
“Fuck, Hermione,” Harry gritted out. “I'm gonna come.”
“Not yet,” Draco growled.
He slammed into him over and over again.
Hermione slumped off Harry, her body lax and spent from her orgasm. She rolled onto her back beside him.
“You're doing so well, Harry,” she murmured, turning her head to mouth kisses to his bicep.
Harry's cock slapped against his stomach, dripping with her release and throbbing at the loss of her cunt.
He couldn't help it, he reached down and fisted himself just as Draco fell forward, slapping his hands on either side of Harry's head.
The change in position gave Draco better leverage and he began to pound into him, driving deeper, faster, harder.
His hot breath hit Harry's cheek where he held himself up above him.
“Do you feel me fucking you, Potter?” He panted. “Do you feel how fucking hard you make me?"
Fuckkkkk.
Harry couldn't stand it.
It was so much.
Gray eyes bore into him and Harry couldn't look away.
“Yes,” he breathed. He leaned his head up and brought his lips to Draco’s ear. “And it feels fucking amazing.”
Malfoy's pace grew frenzied at his words and Harry's hand fell away from his cock, coming up to grip his shoulders as he tried to hold on as Malfoy well and truly began to fuck him into the mattress.
“Fuck—wanted this for years—so fucking tight—” Draco’s words garbled together in an endless stream of curses and praises.
Hermione’s small hand slid between them, and she wrapped her fingers around Harry’s cock, jerking him off with quick twists of her wrists.
“Fuck,” Harry wheezed. “I’m gonna—I can’t—fuck.”
“Come,” Malfoy commanded sharply. “Come for me, Harry.”
Harry hadn't realized he'd been waiting for his permission until it was given.
He came with a strangled groan, fingernails digging into Draco’s skin so hard, he was sure he drew blood.
It was an explosion of technicolor light.
It moved in waves through his muscles and tendons. It was in every heartbeat, every breath until he didn't know where he ended and Draco began.
Hermione worked him through it, murmuring things he couldn't understand in his ear as she stroked his spurting cock.
Harry felt his come land on his stomach that heaved with great gasping breaths.
His heart was in his throat, his pulse thundering in his ears.
He'd never come that hard.
Ever.
Every nerve ending in his body sizzled with overstimulation.
Draco groaned, slamming hard into him, fucking him deeper.
“So.”
Thrust.
“Fucking.”
Thrust.
“Needy.”
Draco fucked into him once, twice more, before he abruptly stilled, coming hard with a shout that might have been Harry's name.
Harry captured his mouth with his and swallowed every groan, every pant.
He felt the warmth of Draco’s release spilling inside him and his own cock twitched in response, a dry unsatisfying second orgasm rippling through him as he sucked on Draco’s tongue.
Draco collapsed on top of him, his arms giving out and Harry was surprised how natural it came to wrap his own arms around him.
Draco was breathing heavily into the crook of his neck
“Fuck,” he mumbled. “How the fuck was that so good?”
Harry snorted.
The sound caused Draco to draw back and look down at him, a singular eyebrow arched.
Hermione giggled.
“It really was good, wasn't it?” she mused.
Draco glanced at her and then back at Harry.
“It was...satisfactory,” he said dryly as though his mumbled confession moments ago hadn’t happened.
Harry rolled his eyes, giving him an incredulous look.
The corner of Draco’s mouth quirked.
His eyes drifted across Harry's face as if memorizing it and Harry let him look, not bothered by the attention after what they just did.
It wasn't until Hermione yawned and stretched her arms above her head that they both seemed to realize that Draco was very much still inside Harry.
Draco eased up onto his palms and carefully pulled his softening cock out of his abused hole.
Harry winced at the soreness that followed and muttered a cleansing charm over the three of them before rolling onto his side. He kissed Hermione softly as he pulled her into his arms.
“Tired?” He murmured.
She let out a contented sigh, burying her face in his chest.
“Completely knackered,” she said sleepily.
“I take it that is my cue,” Draco said, his voice causing them both to look over at him where he now stood beside the bed, stepping into his trousers.
Harry frowned.
“You—uh, you don't need to leave, Malfoy,” he said.
Draco shot them both a droll look.
“No need to pretend this was anything more than what it was, Potter,” he drawled, slipping his arms into the sleeves of his shirt. “I'd say we both got what we wanted, wouldn't you?”
Harry's cheeks heated and he pushed himself into sitting, scrubbing a hand over his face.
It felt wrong having him leave so soon after everything the three of them had shared.
“Salazar, Harry, you're not going to fall in love with me, are you? I know I'm good, but no cock is that good.”
Harry choked on his spit.
“What? No, of course not!” he sputtered as Hermione tried and failed to smother her laughter beside him. “I just meant, you could stay and we could maybe—uh, talk about doing this again sometime.”
He didn't need to look to Hermione to know her thoughts on the matter.
They'd already talked about it.
Not inviting him into their marriage all the time, but on special occasions?
If he was willing, absolutely.
Draco's eyes darkened and he slowly sauntered back over.
He grabbed Harry's chin with his thumb and forefinger, tilting his face up.
The kiss he pressed Harry's lips was different than the heated ones they'd shared in the throes of sex.
It was soft, and full of promise.
“Birthdays and holidays, then?” Malfoy murmured.
Hermione squeezed Harry's hand and he nodded mutedly, his mouth suddenly dry.
Draco smirked before pecking a final kiss to his lips and straightening up.
“See you at the office, Granger,” he called to Hermione as he walked to the fireplace.
He was gone in a swirl of green flames.
After he disappeared, Harry flopped back on his back and blew out a long breath.
Hermione chuckled and propped herself up on one elbow to look at him.
“Happy birthday, Harry,” she said, kissing him sweetly.
He smiled, reaching up to stroke her cheek with his thumb.
“I love you,” he said earnestly.
And fuck, he did.
With everything he was and everything he'd ever be.
Some days those words didn't feel like enough to convey the depths of what he felt for the witch beside him.
A wide grin spread over Hermione's face.
“You're my favorite husband so far, Harry.”
Harry's mouth dropped open in shock but the mirth in her eyes had him digging his fingers into her sides.
“So far, huh?”
Hermione shrieked and tried to squirm away from him.
“Harry Potter, don't you dare!”