"You're hurting me," whispered Harry.
"I know" came the cold reply.
Harry was surrounded in darkness.
A suffocating darkness
A kind of darkness where you weren't sure if your eyes were open or closed and it didn't matter, not at this point anyways.
Harry breathed in deeply, filling his lungs with the cold air, his throat now extremely dry.
His shirt somewhere lost and his upper body shivering under the touch of the figure straddling him.
Harry tried moving. Again. Maybe for the sixth time in the past twenty minutes, but the ropes that were holding him prevented him from moving his arms or legs at that.
The figure towering him moved to his other nipple now, repeating the offensive action and biting rather hard on it.
Harry hissed quietly this time, but that made the offender only more aroused.
He felt his pants being unbuckled. He tensed. His breathing becoming shallower.
"Oh god" Harry said weekly. It sounded remarkably like a prayer.
His pants disappeared along with his boxers and now he realized he was lying completely naked on the bed, it must have been a bed because it was soft and rather comfortable and whenever the figure on top of him would push himself against Harry, Harry would sink a little bit into the confinements of the soft material beneath him.
The figure stopped. Harry just lay there breathing hard. Trying to regain himself.
He heard some rustles and then the weight of the other person was lifted off the bed.
The dark figure was walking around the room. Searching for something.
Harry raised his head to try and see what he was doing, but everything was too dark. He just dropped his head back and closed his eyes.
Giving in to whatever came next.
"There it is" he heard a triumphant whisper.
He gulped.
He felt the bed shifting. He was coming back.
"Now Potter" came a cold drawl, "I need you to be extremely quiet"
"I-"
But he was cut off when warm lips landed on his own, claiming him brutally. The next thing he felt or rather heard was the opening of some jar, followed by a wet sound. Harry wasn't sure what was going on and his pleadings were drowned by the stranger's mouth.
Harry felt a hand coming to rest on his buttock and he stiffened. Completely. His breath hitched in his throat. His whole body rigid with complete anxiousness.
Suddenly the figure above him stopped as well. Letting go of him and leaving his lips without a warning.
"What the fuck" the voice said angrily, it sounded like a question and a statement at the same time.
Harry was baffled.
"What? What's wrong?"
"I cant fucking believe it, Potter." The voice was furious now.
The dark figure got off the bed abruptly, walking around the room, doing something that sounded like ... dressing?
"But wait, I-"
The door somewhere to the right of the bed was opened violently and the light that poured in for a second revealed a blond figure, a young man, then a second later the door closed.
He left.
"Shit" was all that Harry said.