FanFiction by Lady Lorelei the Tarot Goddess

Warning: Please note that some stories may be rated NC17. If you are under the legal age of adulthood in your country of residence, or if you are offended by the idea of slash (stories containing male/male sex) or adult themes, including BDSM and other sexual kinks, please go and find something else to read.

Hunkwarts Challenge #4 - Marble Gods

Title:  Musee de Rodin

Pairing: Harry/Draco

Rating: NC-17

WC: 1460

Warning: bondage

Note:  This spilled out of me in about an hour.


“You know Rodin was a psychic vampire, don’t you?” Hermione’s imperious voice cut through the silent muggle museum.


Harry sighed, why had he agreed to this holiday trip with the Grangers? Why? Faintly, he replied, “Really?”


“Yes,” she said definitively. “I read that Camille Claudel came to be his student. He took her as his mistress and model. Her life force inhabits the sculptures he did of her. Then, he threw her over for another woman. She died alone in an insane asylum.”


Her riveting speech had the desired effect, Harry supposed. He stared more intently at the bronzes and marbles throughout the museum, imagining imprisoned souls were looking at him, laughing at him. Flexing for him.




His head snapped back in a double take and belatedly his body followed. “Malfoy, is that you?” he whispered. His hands rose of their own accord to touch the feet of the giant white marble god gazing fiercely down at him.


“Oh no!” he yelled as the familiar disorientation of a portkey gripped him behind the navel and swirled him about.


He landed on his feet, but his spinning head led his body over. He ended up on hands and knees, on deep soft forest green carpet.


“Ah, Potter, just as I prefer to see you. I wondered when you’d make it to the musee. Granger boring you stiff?” And there sat Malfoy, his smirk of superiority a studied insult.


“Goddammit Malfoy!” Harry drew in another breath and let the world stop spinning before pushing himself to his feet. “I was in a muggle museum . . . full of muggles! Anyone could have seen! Anyone could have touched it before me!”


“Don’t be stupid Potter. I popped over last week and keyed it to you and you alone.”


“I have to go back and tell Hermione, I’m OK.”


“You don’t have to do anything,” Draco hissed, his eyes turning hard where they had been welcoming, “but what I tell you.” He rose smoothly from his small desk and with two strides had Harry in an iron grip. “And what you have to do right now, is beg.”


Harry gulped in fear. He hadn’t seen Draco, been with him, since the end of year Feast. He knew Draco wouldn’t hurt him, but it felt like he would. And when Draco gripped his arms like that and bodily forced him backwards like that, Harry’s blood pounded in his ears, rushing around his body, to settle deep between his legs. He tried resisting, but it had been too long; first a month at the Dursley’s, then the Burrow and Grimmaud Place, and now, off with the Grangers, right before the new term. He simultaneously pushed forward to meet Draco’s mouth, while pushing away with his hands.


The breath whooshed out of him when Draco threw him back onto the bed.


Sspredeagldom.” Draco intoned, pointing his wand at Harry’s middle. “Resstraintium.” And Harry’s limbs stretched out across the bed and black silk cords wound around his wrists and ankles.


Alohamora!” he yelled and the cords slipped away.


Draco’s silver-eyed glare turned from triumphant to murderous. Harry remained spread-eagled on the bed. Draco pointed his wand at the nightstand. The bottom drawer opened. “Accio cuffs,” he hissed and silver metal shot out to slap into his grasping hand.  Nimbly, he straddled Harry’s struggling body and began snapping the cuffs between Harry and the bedposts. “Try all you want, you aren’t getting out of these.”


Harry spoke every opening charm he knew and nothing happened. He was trapped. By Malfoy, who had climbed off him and was fiddling around the room humming to himself in satisfaction. He breathed heavily but finally stopped straining. He knew the game Draco wanted, and sweet Merlin! but he wanted it too. Yet, he couldn’t just surrender.


“Please Draco, I beg of you . . .” and Draco’s eyes snapped to his, suddenly burning with a silver gleam, “send me back to Hermione.”


The gleam turned to burning flame and Draco’s wand pointed at his middle again. “In flagrante delicto!” and Harry’s clothes were gone. Draco, fully clothed in grey and white, stalked slowly over to the side of the bed. His eyes never left Harry’s and he spoke not a word, but leaned forward, ever so slowly. He leaned over Harry. His lips parted. His tongue slipped out between neat white teeth. He leaned over and touched it to one dark nipple.


A weak whimper escaped Harry’s lips and his breathing picked up again. The tongue lolled around the nipple. The lips kissed and sucked at the nipple. Harry’s breath came shallow and rapid. Teeth tugged at the nipple and Harry moaned.


“What do you want Harry? Tell me what you want?” Draco sounded as breathless as Harry was.


Harry forced open his eyes and regarded the aquiline nose so close to his own. He wanted to lick it, to taste it. But gods, he didn’t want to surrender. “I want  . . . you to fuck . . . OFF!”


Draco growled in frustration and reached both hands out to twist at both dark nipples, hard. Harry only groaned with desire and started panting. His cock strained against his stomach. Draco stood back and began methodically unbuttoning and removing his garments. Harry watched, fixated, his pupils dilated, ringed in green they seemed to glow from the depths of the pillows.


In moments Draco stood nude before him, a figure of godly perfection that no artist’s marble could ever duplicate, lines of muscle and sinew a study of manhood incarnate; full of so much life and passion he swept Harry’s breath away. I surrender, I surrender . . .


Without a word, yet filled with evocative intensity, Draco approached the bed once more. He let the backs of his hands casually drag along the length of Harry’s form. And Harry sighed. He swept his hands down then back up. And Harry trembled. He swirled his fingertips over and around muscles and joints, across the soles of feet, delicately along the inner thighs and their junction with the torso. And Harry moaned. He drug one fingernail up the shaft. And Harry jerked. He slid one fingertip along the slit.




Silver eyes preened. “What, Harry? Hmmm?”


Harry writhed against the cuffs. “Please.” And Draco’s lips broke in a smile. “Please Draco!” And Draco grinned.


“What do you want Harry?” his voice was low, husky.


“I want you. Oh please fuck. Don’t make me wait. Please Draco. Whatever you want. Please,” his determination faded to a whimper of need. He needed Draco. It had been months!


Smoothly, sinuously, Draco slid his body onto the bed, onto his Harry, and both groaned as their erections rubbed along the other’s body.  “Yesssss,” Draco hissed as he let his legs part and began a rhythm of movement. Back and forth his body moving up Harry’s until Harry’s cock pushed at his entrance. He kept up the movement, adjusting the angle, until the head pierced him. His eyes closed at the exquisite sensation. He pushed back but it wouldn’t go.


“Slow down. baby. It’s all right,” Harry murmured, surrounding him with his arms. “We’ll get there.” And Draco felt Harry’s hand move down to his hip, felt him whisper “Lubricatum,” against his lips, felt the swirl of magic followed by the swirl of cool slipperiness and this time, when he pushed himself back onto Harry’s cock, he slid down like he was coming home. They groaned together, relishing the feel of each other, the tightness, the heat, the . . . love?


Harry tasted the sweetness of Draco’s mouth on his. He held himself somewhat still, rocking gently, letting Draco ride him. Then he tasted saltiness and looked up to see tears squeezing out of Draco’s closed eyes. “Missed you,” squeezed out of Draco’s closed lips.


“Missed you too, baby,” he murmured and drew Draco even more tightly against him. He felt himself drowning in the sensation of Draco’s tight ass gripping him, and reached between them to grip Draco’s weeping cock. “Yessss,” they hissed together and time stopped, and then came crashing back with shouts of bliss, and heavy pants of pleasure.


Suddenly Draco pushed up. “Potter! What did you do to my cuffs?”


“Uh,” Harry looked at his hands in bewilderment. He looked to the bedposts where the cuffs hung, closed on empty air.


“Just for that, you’ll get your wish!” Draco hopped off the bed and grabbed a small figurine. “Back to Granger you go!” He tossed the figurine to Harry whose Seeker reflexes couldn’t avoid catching it.


“Oh no!” he yelled as the spinning began behind his navel.


“Harry?” Hermione asked uncertainly, confronted with a nude Harry holding a small copy of The Thinker.





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