Harry watched. Intently, always, every move that was made. Greedily indulging in skin, white and even as cream. Never being satisfied no matter how many hours spent watching. Or listening.
The only thing he craved more than the sight was the sound. Just hearing Draco's voice, smooth like velvet with words sharp as knives. The words couldn't compare to the moans; Low and guttural or high and strained, the gasp he heard when he would surprise him with new expensive things, never finding anything expensive enough for such perfection.
"You're sinful" Harry gasped, cumming, pressed into the new silk sheets.