Title: Hot Desire

Pairing: Voldemort x Harry

Rating: Mature (Mentions sexual acts)

Prompt: 344. Revolting

~~o-O-o~~

To some, Harry supposes that murder is revolting. At times, he even agrees with them. However, when he sees his husband, Voldemort, bathed in the blood of his enemies, it's like a beast takes control of him.

Desire, hot and powerful, will race through his veins, practically begging him to bow in front of this magnificent creature. In these moments, he'd want to give himself over to Voldemort completely, he'd want to beg to be taken like a bitch.

Thing is, Harry is a man of class. At least, he likes to fancy himself as one. For this reason, he holds himself back; for this reason, he allows his husband to play this little game.

They're in their chambers, a locking charm having sealed them off from the rest of the Manor. Voldemort, ever the clever man, has Harry backed against a wall, knowing that he won't be able to escape.

A hand, pale in appearance, gently cups Harry's cheek and crimson eyes peer into Harry's green ones.

"Do you want me, love?" Voldemort questions softly. Harry gulps and forces himself to shake his head.

"You're revolting," he whispers. "You reek of blood."

"You love it, though," Voldemort says, his voice just as soft. "You fancy yourself as clean, pure almost, and you want to be sullied."

"You're wrong," Harry begins, but he's cut off.

"All you have to do is ask, Harry. I'd be delighted to taint the Savior of the Wizarding World."

"You would, wouldn't you?" Harry retorts sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

"Yes, I would," Voldemort responds. Gently, almost lovingly, he leans in to press a kiss on the other's neck, pausing to get a whiff.

"You smell simply divine. Can you imagine how delicious you'd smell covered in blood?"

Harry can't help it, he whimpers.

"Can you imagine our writhing bodies coming together, blood caked on both of our chests?"

When Harry twitches violently, Voldemort goes in for the kill.

"Can you imagine the blood being pushed inside you, preparing you for what's to come?"

Before Voldemort can even fathom, Harry's lips are upon his. It's a desperate kiss, one full of neediness and pure desire.

Voldemort smirks in triumph, ignoring the sharp hit he gets in return.

(10/365)