𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐄 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒

Chapter 15

"Are you sure it's not too much? We can wait . . ." Even as he uttered the words, Edward's hands roved over Draco's arms down to his waist, pulling him closer. It seemed like forever since they'd been alone. Draco's injury had kept him off of his feet for nearly a week, and while, thanks to Snape's grudging acquiescence, Edward had visited every night, they hadn't risked more than a brief kiss here and there. Not that Draco hadn't tried for more. Edward had resisted going further, afraid of doing something to set back the healing process, though Draco protested that the state of his sexual frustration threatened to do just that.

So it was no surprise when Draco ground his hips against his, slipping his hands inside Edward's back pockets and squeezing. Hard.

"No waiting," Draco said. "I'm fine."

Snape had explained to them that, even with the accelerated healing magic provided, the wound would take longer than usual to mend due to its severity. But Draco had been on his feet now for days without pain, and the way he was sucking on Edward's neck rendered thoughts of stopping irrelevant.

Draco sank down on the bed, the outline of his cock visible under tight black trousers. It twitched under Edward's hand, and he leaned forward, catching Draco's lips in a slow kiss. They didn't have to rush—they had the whole afternoon, and Edward wanted to make the most of it.

When he reached to unbutton Draco's shirt, the wizard muttered and clasped his arm.

"Don't. It's . . . not pretty," Draco said. The way he was worrying his bottom lip between his teeth made Edward's dead heart clench. Damned Harry Potter. He'd gotten away scot-free, it seemed, which only confirmed what Draco had said about the favoritism shown to Gryffindors (and Potter in particular). If Edward had his way . . .

In his embarrassment, Draco flushed. He didn't even need to explain for Edward to understand how he felt about it—another scar, another mark.

"It's okay." Edward let go of the shirt and brought his hands back to cup Draco's face, expecting to be batted away. He wasn't, and so he leaned in for another kiss. His anger at what Potter had done would never fade, but now wasn't the time to bring it up, not when Draco was still vulnerable—though he'd never admit it.

After another few minutes of kissing and tentative touches, Draco began to make frustrated sounds, rubbing his hips against Edward's, cock hard and straining to be released. It almost made Edward chuckle; the one place he could count on Draco to be entirely honest was in bed.

"Salazar . . . want you to touch me," Draco said, moving restlessly.

"Hmm . . . I think we can arrange that."

After that, there was no more talking.

A growl rumbled in Edward's chest as Draco freed his cock, taking it in his hand and stroking himself, looking up at him with sleepy grey eyes. The pink head glistened, just begging for a kiss. Edward darted his tongue out to lick as Draco's hand moved lazily. It was almost too much for him—the taste, being so close. Venom rushed, cool and slick down his throat. He pulled back and snapped his mouth shut, turning away as he removed his clothes so Draco wouldn't see the monster.

When he turned back, he gasped. Draco had removed his shirt and gazed at Edward with a guarded expression. A web of pink scar tissue spanned the width of his torso, a fine web of lines concentrated over his heart. Strangely enough, the skin appeared smooth. Never breaking eye contact, Edward moved his hand slowly, making his intent known. Draco didn't stop him from reaching out.

"You're still beautiful," Edward said, the words making him feel even more naked. The skin felt soft and new, like a baby's. Oh, he would be so careful now.