Chapter III

Harry's hands scrabbled helplessly against the stone floor of the dungeon. He had to escape this…this torment. The fact that Malfoy had his hands on Harry was beyond depraved. The fact that Harry wanted them there, the fact that he had thought about nothing but Malfoy's hands on him for weeks was too loathsome, too sickening to even stomach.

As the Slytherin worked his hand down the front of Harry's pants, Harry squirmed underneath him, half of him trying to buck the blonde boy off, the other half wanting something completely different. Draco's hand finally reached his goal, and with a knowing smirk he gave the Gryffindor's already hard flesh one rough stroke.

"Argh!" Harry gave a strangled cry, his hips arching unconsciously into Draco's hand.

"You like that, Potter?" Draco jeered, his fingers moving tauntingly over Harry's cock. The sight of the smaller boy writhing defenselessly beneath him was enough to have him hard as a rock.

Ever since the episode in the hallway Draco had been furious with himself. He had never lost control like that before. Had Professor Snape not interrupted… there was no telling how far he would have gone. He had been so intoxicated by the fact that he had found Potter alone he had given no thought to the consequences. But what had been worse than the lapse of judgment in the hallway was that ever since then he had been unable to get the image of the Gryffindor pressed up against the wall with his lips bruised and his eyes unfocused out of his head. More than once he had awoken from a fevered dream where he again had the Boy Who Lived panting and moaning under him like a bitch in heat. Draco had never been this obsessed with any of his previous conquests. After much deliberation he had come to the conclusion that the only way to exorcize the Gryffindor from his mind was to simply do him. Surely once he had fucked Harry within an inch of his life the other boy would cease to occupy so much of his thoughts.

And that was just what he intended to do.

By now Draco's skillful hands had stripped Harry of his pants, and the Gryffindor lay against the cold stone floor in nothing but his half-buttoned shirt.

"Please, Draco…" Harry pleaded, squeezing his eyes shut against the shame. As much as he protested, he knew that his body would betray him. And unfortunately there was nothing he could do to hide that fact from the Slytherin.

Draco's grin widened. He stood up and with a tap of his wand flipped Harry over, so that he was now facedown on the floor, with his hands still firmly secured above his head. Another flick of his wand had a block of wood that had been resting against the wall to shoot underneath Harry's hips, propping them up. Knowing it would heighten the anticipation, Draco stepped over Harry to grab the abandoned scrub brush, fully aware that the other boy watched with eyes blurred with fear and desire.

Moving behind Harry, Draco stood for a moment, pausing to appreciate the image that the Gryffindor presented. It was nearly enough to make him groan out loud—the boy's ass was high in the air, his arms stretched uncomfortably far in front of him, and soft mewling noises escaped him as he frantically craned his neck in a desperate attempt to see what Draco intended. Rolling up his sleeves, Draco gave into temptation and stroked himself, before, without any warning, he brought the brush—bristle end down—onto Harry's exposed ass with enough force to draw blood.

A scream more of shock than pain tore itself from Harry's throat, though once the surprise from the unexpected blow faded, tears of agony rushed into the green eyes. Before he had a chance to recover, Draco brought the brush down again. And again.

Hardly able to draw in breath between his agonized cries, Harry could do nothing but squirm frantically against the block of wood in a futile attempt to escape. One that only caused him to grow harder as he ground himself against the rough surface of the wood. As Draco's hand rose and fell, Harry's cries turned to broken pleas, and as he unwillingly drove himself to a point of desperate arousal he was no longer sure if he was begging Draco to stop, or begging for more.

Knowing he had Harry so blinded by lust that he probably couldn't even remember his own name, Draco dropped the brush. Before Harry could even register the change, Draco's hands were on his bruised and bloody ass, and within seconds the blonde boy had thrust two fingers into him.

Harry's back arched at the new pain, and he tried to close his legs against the invasion, but it was too late for that. As Draco's fingers pressed deeper, his free hand reached around Harry and grasped his cock. The mingling pain and pleasure had Harry completely incoherent, and he could do nothing more but weep.

"A virgin, Potter?" Draco leaned down and whispered in Harry's ear, beginning to work another finger into the bound boy. "Merlin, you're so tight…" Harry tried to jerk his head away, but suddenly one of the fingers inside of him hit a spot that made him cry out—and not in pain. A smirk dancing over his lips, Draco pulled back, and pulled out.

"Please, please," Harry panted rashly, not even sure what he was asking, only that he knew Draco could give it to him.