Last chapter

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Harry woke up to soft sheets and the wonderful warmth of Voldemort's body. It was still dark outside so either they'd slept too long or they hadn't slept at all. He sat up straight and relished the painlessness. He stretched and slipped out of bed to go to the bathroom.

When he returned, Voldemort was standing there. He was about to speak when Voldemort stepped closer to him and spoke,

"Do you have any idea how terrified I was when I woke up and you were not in bed?"

He tipped his head back and smiled coyly,

"I can see that but The Dark Lord isn't supposed to have a heart."

Lips brushed his and Harry closed his eyes.

"Open your eyes, Harry."

Harry opened his eyes just as Voldemort lifted his head.

"This Dark Lord has a heart, Love. And it is yours."

Voldemort caught his hand and brought it up to his chest. Over his heart,

"It beats for you."

Harry opened his mouth, breathing that way because everything felt so big. Everything felt so huge. Under his palm, Voldemort's heart beat steady. Strong. For him.

A gift he didn't deserve, but he was nothing if not selfish, so he grabbed on. Using those vibrations under his touch as lifeline, a way out of that freezing hell he'd fallen into and crawled out of.

Shaking. How could he not? He'd never been speechless before. Never handed himself over into someone else's safekeeping before. Voldemort trusted him with his heart after everything. He could do nothing other than reciprocate.

It took nothing at all. No effort to say,

"You're my heart too."

Easiest words he'd ever spoken. It was true what they said…whoever they were.

The truth made everything better.

When Voldemort grinned, Harry's pulse tripped all over itself. He stared and saw the flames that flickered and grew stronger. Burning for him. He yearned to kiss those lips but Voldemort got there first. Firm lips gentled over his and his tongue pushed inside. Licking. Taking the remnants of Harry's breath, heating him to boiling in no time at all. He clung to him, shuffling closer on legs that seemed iffy on holding him upright. Lucky for him, Voldemort gripped him tight.

Lucky for him.

All the trust he'd vowed to never give anyone, he gifted to the man who'd once been his mortal enemy. Heads twisting this way and that as they ate at each other. Harry moaned, hips jerking. Body aching in that uniquely intoxicating way he attributed to Voldemort.

Voldemort brought his hand down between their bodies, yanking on Harry's shirt, pushing it off his shoulder before flattening his hand over his torso. Harry grunted into his mouth then bit down on his bottom lip. Sharp. Painful.

He held on while putting a hand on top of the one Voldemort touched him with. Circling his wrist and dragging his touch down. Down. Past a hard, flat stomach that contracted for him. Down. To his crotch, over the bulge in his black pants that throbbed under Voldemort's palm.

Voldemort squeezed him, and Harry made a whimpery-grunt sound. Voldemort fumbled with the fly of his pants, yanking on them. Fingers uncooperative as he drew the zipper down and reached inside.

Harry moaned into his mouth, low and long, hips pushing his shaft into Voldemort's palm,


Voldemort stroked him, his already wet shaft getting soaked with each stroke up and down. Harry thrust into his fist, hips slamming forward.




Voldemort begged,

"Let me love you."

Harry lifted his head to squint down at him with low-riding eyelids,

"Can I stop you, Lover?"

He eased himself in and out of Voldemort's fist slowly, cock so hard. Throbbing. Voldemort whispered,

"Yes…Yes you can stop me with a word…a look…a sound…You are the only one who can. He hold that power over me."

Harry shook his head and spoke,

"I'm yours…Completely yours…"

Voldemort smiled, and Harry knew then that no matter how many times he smiled, he'd always see it as a first. It would always hit him square in the chest. The gesture would always put his knees to the floor.

Voldemort finally spoke with desperation inside his voice,

"I want to be inside you. I want your legs around me and you on your back."

Harry's lashes were lowered, but he knew that Voldemort felt his reaction to those words. The swelling of his erection, the whoosh of his breath across Voldemort's cheek.

"So, take what's yours."

He took that offering, stripping Harry in record time before pushing him backward on the bed and climbing him. Hot skin wrapped around him as he devoured Harry's mouth.

He'd never made love to someone he loved, who loved him. Their first night didn't count because they'd both been too lost in lust.

So even as he licked his way up and into Harry's mouth, he tried to make himself slow down. Tried telling himself to savour. The fingers scraping his spine, he arched into them. They made him moan and grind against Harry's thigh.

Lips that broke away from his to glide down the length of his throat, he leaned into the touch. Breath shaking, grabbing on tight to the sheets on either side of them.

Harry bucked under him, cock as hard as Voldemort's. Begging for it with every lift of his hips off the bed.

Voldemort held himself still long enough to look down at Harry. His skin glistened already with a fine sheen of sweat. Face flush, lips parted as he panted. Voldemort kissed him again. Harry was truly addicting. There was something about feeling Harry's lips under his. Something about their bodies writhing. Something about the way they gave each other pleasure.

He loved it.

Voldemort stroked Harry's chest then bent, licking the path his fingers took. Tasting salty skin, biting nipples.

Heavy with want and desire. Harry's voice was a bloody weapon,


Voldemort shuddered, licking his way down Harry's torso. Fingers in his hair pulled tight, forced him lower. He went with his mouth open and his eyes closed. Tasting cock, sucking it down as Harry thrust, and Voldemort thrust into the bed.

"Don't stop…"

He gave Voldemort those words. Dripping like bloody honey down his spine,

"Don't stop…"

Voldemort would have chuckled at that, but his mouth was full. He hollowed his cheeks, dipped his head, grunting when Harry throbbed on his tongue. Eyes rolling back at the taste of him. He brought his slick fingers slower, circled Harry's hole. Trembling thighs lifted to the sky. He dipped in.


Harry pushed back on the digit, rolled his hips.

His heartbeat was thundering in his ears but not loud enough to drown out Harry's cries. Words he didn't even understand. He was pretty sure they made no sense.

He pushed his fingers into him until his knuckles ached. Then he pulled away quickly, surfacing only to wipe his face with the back of his hand and conjure the lube.

Harry looked satiated already, and he hadn't even made him come yet. Voldemort wanted to wait until he was inside him. He gritted,

"Legs around me."

Damn, he wanted to go slow, but now wasn't the time. Every slide of Harry's hot skin against his ripped control away. He wanted inside. Wanted to rut. Wanted to spill. Legs wrapped around his hip.

He tossed the lube away and brought himself to Harry's hole. Harry flinched. Voldemort smoothed a hand over his knee. He forced words past his locked throat,

"I simply cannot go slow for you, My love. Want you. Want your body."

Harry moaned out,

"Take me."

Voldemort surged forward. His hands shook. Harry's body trembled. Tip to his hole, Voldemort held his breath. Pushed in. And Harry pushed back. He slid in and immediately lost the ability to breathe.

Harry uttered a soul-deep growl.

"Damn it…"

He went in, eyes closed. The heat,

"Nothing better."

And he hadn't even bottomed out yet. Eyes flying open, he pinned Harry in place with a stare.

"Nothing is better than you."

Harry's expression was all hunger and pain. And Voldemort got off on both. He buried himself with one deep thrust, noting the flare of Harry's nostrils and the tightening of his legs. His chest heaved, and for a second there shock flashed across Harry's face.

Voldemort circled his hips, lowering himself with one hand next to Harry's head, he whispered,

"Hang on."

He reared back and slammed in. Harry cried out. Voldemort hissed. Harry's body fisted around him, choking him. Hot and tight, and every time he moved, Voldemort had to fight his orgasm. He thrust in and out, shoving his tongue inside Harry's mouth, claiming him in every possible way.

Harry matched him stroke for stroke, hand on his hips, fingers digging in. He better leave his marks…He wanted Harry to leave his marks on his body.

They devolved to just grunts and growls, even those muted because they stayed in each other's mouths. Harry as greedy as him. Hands and mouths everywhere.

And Voldemort, pounding in and out. He loved it…every bit of it. He told Harry that too. Or at least he tried, because Harry didn't release his mouth to allow to him to talk.

Talking was overrated.

Harry shoved a hand between them to stroke himself off. Body arching, he came with a garbled sound that Voldemort ate, sticky cum immediately gluing them together. His toes curled into the mattress as the spasms hit, locking his limbs while the orgasm ripped through him.

Under him, Harry shuddered, grabbing on to Voldemort' shoulders with a grunt.

"Me inside you."

He wasn't sure if his tongue was working, but Voldemort tried.

"That is me inside you."

He collapsed onto Harry's heaving chest. Arms went around him immediately and he hummed in blissful satisfaction. Harry murmured softly,

"Give me five minutes and we're doing that again."

He laughed hoarsely and ran his fingers through Harry's sweat damp hair,

"Slow down, Love. We have an eternity."

Harry huffed softly,

"Don't care… I want you again and again and again…"