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Harry couldn’t remember a time in his life where he felt so…good. Even with his life full of magic, it was nothing compared to having his lips ravished by his mate. The scent of Draco was intoxicating, making Harry’s body give into the sensation and press against him harder, kissing him back just as feverishly and finding himself barely able to breath from how much he had gotten into it.
There was a sudden stir building up in his abdomen, the warm sensation making Harry moan softly, although unsure if they should continue. His body was nearly shaking from how much he was enjoying the attention being given to him, and it was nearly overwhelmingly pleasurable.
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"Why is it that, as a culture, we are more comfortable seeing two men holding guns than holding hands?"
~Ernest Gaines
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