I want you stuffed into my mouth.
Harry kneeled in front of his Lord, bright eyes staring up into dark ones. He was breathing softly, waiting patiently, hopefully, for his Lord to do something, anything.
"Harry," Voldemort said.
"Milord?"
There was a long pause in which Harry admired his lovely Lord, his beautiful love. His dark hair splayed about his shoulders, his defined nose and lips. What a lovely face, what a pretty neck, what a wondrous frame to be sitting so calmly, so perfectly on a throne of black marble. Harry sighed.
"Pleasure me," His love said.
Harry's eyes became lidded in lust, his pupils dilated, he began breath heavily. "Yes my love." He moved carefully closer to his Lord, getting up and slinking toward the older man with rolling hips. He kneeled again directly in front of his love, his chest barely rubbing against the other's knees as he crouched. Moving slowly as to draw out the moments to come, he drew open his Lord's robes, moved them away from the desired region. Carefully, Harry brought his love out of his trousers, held him gently in his palm and stared up at his Lord who sighed contently and looked back.
"Do it," Voldemort whispered.
Still watching his Lord, Harry brought his mouth down onto him, touched his tongue lightly on the soft skin. Seeing his love shiver, Harry took the whole thing in his mouth, swallowed its enormity down. He worked for a while, bobbing and sucking and licking and pleasuring. It wasn't long till his Lord was coming down his throat and he was swallowing every bit of it. Harry moaned at the taste.
His Lord wrenched Harry from his member and brought their mouths together in a fiery kiss. They moaned together.