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Man of the House Chapter 3
🕑 Added 2025-03-21 03:22:40 +0000 UTCHarry lifted Draca up, and was amused to see how easily she went along with it. She was practically puddly in his hands. It felt… invigorating.
Harry had had no shortage of women in his relatively short life. He was a celebrity, a hero, and a pretty handsome bloke to boot. It only made sense. But Draca? He’d known her for longer than any of them.
She was the first witch his age he ever met. Back then, in Madame Malkin’s, the first thing she ever told him was, “Don’t stare.”
They’d been eleven, not even proper first years yet, and it’s not like they were old enough to even understand what dating really was. But she’d been raised to always know that she was House Malfoy’s heiress, that she was basically a princess who boys were going to fawn over, and she acted accordingly.
Their meeting got worse from there. She looked down on him for not having parents. She didn’t know yet who Harry was, he didn’t understand what being from the Malfoy Family even meant, and it didn’t take long for them to start bickering. That set a precedent for what their relationship was going to be like for a LONG time.
Harry carried Draca, ironically, like she was a princess. She coughed softly, her throat sore from sucking him off. Harry would never tell her this in a million years, but that had been the best blowjob he ever experienced. Some girls, like Lavender or Fleur, could deepthroat him more easily, but there was something about it being DRACA that made it feel different. It was a new thrill.
Her nightdress was made from the finest silk. It was sheer and see-through, easily showing him the bra underneath. Harry held her above the bed and felt Draca snuggle into his grip, although she still wouldn't look at him.
He tossed her down on the bed.
Draca squawked. Her nightdress was coming loose around the top, starting to slide off of one shoulder. Draca glared at him.
“How could you just drop me?” she demanded.
“Do you think you deserve anything different?” Harry asked apathetically.
“Of course!” Draca said. “I’m the heiress to House Malfoy! I’m a stunning pureblood lady who— Urp!”
Her rant stopped dead as Harry thrust his thumb into her mouth. Draca’s eyes widened, but her lips moved without thinking, sucking on the finger and suctioning around it
“Better,” Harry said.
Rage flashed in Draca’s eyes… but it disappeared just as quickly. She didn’t fight against his finger, not complaining once, and soon her tongue was stroking the thumb that was in her mouth.
Harry used his other hand to slide down the straps of Draca’s nightdress. Doing it one handed was slow business, but it let the anticipation build up. He saw goosebumps break out along Draca’s skin wherever his fingers brushed. Harry couldn’t help but smirk.
When both straps came loose, he grabbed the frilly hem and yanked. The silk shot off of Draca’s body. She was left in nothing but a bra and panties, and skimpy ones at that.
Harry pressed his thumb onto Draca’s belly button. He slid that thumb down in a straight line until it reached her crotch, pushing her panties down at a snail’s pace.
The green fabric slid down. Draca had no hair down there. She must’ve used Hair Removal Potions daily to leave herself this smooth. Her vulva lips were small and puckered, hardly sticking out at all. Harry admired it, but didn’t touch it for now.
Insead he rolled her over. His thumb slipped from her throat as Draca was left on her stomach, her chin propped on the bed. She had a cute shapely arse.
“If you were better at Quidditch, I might’ve pounced on you sooner,” Harry said.
“What?” Draca gasped.
“Well, I would’ve seen this arse in those tight pants, and I’d know I had to have it. But you never could get ahead of me on a broom, could you?”
“Go to Hell, Potter!”
“Don’t talk that way.” SMACK.
Draca cried out. Her arse jiggled, a big red hand print across it. Draca twisted around to glare.
“How DARE you—”
SMACK.
Her complaint ended in a sharp, throaty moan. Instead of pulling his hand away right away, Harry held on, squeezing her perky backside.
“You’re long overdue a fuck like this,” Harry said. “I’m just doing you a favor. So I don’t want to hear any complaints.
And what do you know? Draca didn’t object.
Harry unlatched her bra and yanked it from under her torso. While he couldn’t see her breasts in this position, he knew he would get to them in due time. Right now, he had a job to do.
“Hold still,” Harry commanded.
He slapped her arse with both hands, held on, and used his grip to lift her up. Then he pressed his face to the hairless flesh and utterly went to town.
“Ahhh! Oh! Ah! Unnn! Ooh!” Draca sounded like she was doing animal impressions one after another as Harry’s tongue entered her.
He was good in bed in general, but Harry counted this among his special talents. His tongue had broken more than a few very experienced girls… And he was rapidly realizing that Draca wasn’t one of those.
Whatever boyfriends she’d had in the past weren’t the right kind. Purebloods tended to be sexually repressed, because they had terrible sex ed in the wizarding world. Families like the Malfoys that cared about bloodlines and arranged marriages treated intercourse as nothing but a way to produce heirs. They liked dolling up their women so that they looked good at balls and ministry functions, but they didn’t know how to properly fuck them.
That was one of the reasons a decent amount of pureblood witches ended up with Muggle or Muggle-born men. Look at Cho Chang, or Andromeda Tonks. The latter got herself disowned by the Blacks because after getting a taste of Ted, she couldn’t go back.
Narcissa had gotten her own taste now, and Harry felt safe saying that even if Lucius suddenly got out of Azkaban, Narcissa wouldn’t be able to give him the time of day. She was laying next to them in the same bed, happily unconscious after Harry broke her in preparation for tonight. He tried out every one of his tricks on her to get ready for Draca, including the one he was using now.
Harry’s tongue was bullying Draca’s clit. He toyed with it and pushed it around the same way he did to Draca at Hogwarts. She gave as good as she got (like that time she broke his nose) but in Harry’s unbiased opinion he came out on top more often than not.
He was certainly on top now. His hands held her still while Draca thrashed and contorted from the feeling of his tongue. She was absolutely gushing. After just ten strokes of Harry’s tongue, she came into his mouth. It tasted sweet.
There were potions for that. Half of them were scams, but Draca must’ve found one of the good ones. She prepared for tonight, Harry realized, taking potions that stripped off hair and flavored her orgasmic juices. She dutifully prepared herself for Harry, and she must’ve hated herself for doing it the entire time.
That kind of rigorous discipline deserved a reward. Instead of removing his tongue, Harry strove to push it deeper inside of her.
Draca was starting to sound like she was being strangled. Her hands were pounding the bed as she tried to withstand the waves of pleasure she was feeling from her crotch. It didn’t work. Draca came three more times before Harry finally let go of her, allowing her body to fall onto the bed.
She lay there gasping, flat on her stomach, with arousal staining the sheets between her legs. Harry stared down at her, his erection throbbing. This was it. There was only one thing left to do.
Harry hauled Draca over. She lay on her back right next to her mother, her legs shaking. Although it looked like she was struggling to keep her eyes open, she was still halfheartedly glaring at Harry.
He placed his hands on her hips and pushed his dick inside of her.
Draca tossed her head back, moaning loudly. Her face showed the pleasure she was feeling, and Harry was only halfway inside of her. When the rest of his dick stretched her pussy, Draca could do nothing but shriek, a dopey smile forming.
“Don’t look!” she gasped.
“That’s what you told me in Madame Malkin’s,” Harry said. “Well guess what? I’m looking now.”
He stared at her, searing the image of haughty Draca Malfoy cumming on his dick into his mind. She was gushing just as much as she had for his tongue, maybe even more. As Harry sped up, clapping his body into hers, Draca’s hands came up, wrapping around his back.
Harry’s head dropped down. He bit her breasts, pulling on them and chomping her nipples hard enough that Hermione would’ve scolded him severely if he did it to her. But Draca loved it. She orgasmed as soon as his teeth scraped her. From that moment on, Harry made it his goal to mark her body in as many different places as he was physically capable of.
He coated her chest in bite marks until there was more pink flesh than pale flesh. He left hickeys all over Draca’s neck. In return, Draca’s hands scratched his back, leaving red lines all along his muscles, some of which even leaked small drops of blood. Harry kept fucking her harder and harder, and soon each thrust was making Draca’s juices splat out around his cock. Harry could feel the droplets landing on his thighs while more got on the sheets.
When he couldn’t find anywhere else to lay his teeth into, he jerked his head up, holding it directly above Draca’s face. For all they had been through in life, he’d never actually paid this much attention to her. She was gorgeous. Something about her orgasm face broke down the cold aloof expression she usually wore and let him notice the good things. She had her mother’s features with an even more aristocratic touch. But she was also young, with a fit perky body and a youthful lack of fat on her cheeks. She had blueish gray eyes that when they weren’t plotting something nasty, were actually pleasant to look at.
Harry remembered every spat they ever had, along with all the times she called Hermione a Mudblood, mocked Neville, or insulted Ron’s family. He gathered all of that up and channeled it into a kiss.
It was the most violent kiss he’d ever been a part of. Short of biting each other’s tongues, the two of them pushed their lips against each other like they were fighting. Draca’s tongue tried to push Harry’s around, but just like when they were playing quidditch, it was a no contest. Harry overpowered her easily, pinning her tongue and exploring her mouth as he pleased, and Draca orgasmed yet again. Harry couldn't shake the feeling that she was happy with this result.
By this point, he was extremely worked up, and he couldn’t deny that he was in an animalistic sort of mood. As he claimed his old enemy turned rival, he couldn’t help but feel that he was about to win their back and forth once and for all. There was really only one thing left in order to put it completely to bed.
Harry’s hips clapped against Draca’s, and this time they did so with so much force that her legs stuck straight up in the air, shaking as her toes pointed toward the ceiling. Harry’s dick slammed against her womb, immediately spewing out a sea of his cum.
He pumped Draca completely full, and she could do nothing but squeeze his muscular body and pull him close as she felt warmth spread through her pussy. She’d been marked. She could never fight with him again, because what comeback can you have to, “I came inside you and you loved it.”
She could only accept that she had lost. She lay there, catching her breath slowly while Harry remained on top of her. Eventually, Draca whispered something.
“What was that?” Harry said.
“More,” Draca said quietly.
Grinning, Harry grabbed her ankles, folding her in half, and started again, watching Draca writhe beneath him.
