Reckless Abandon (Drarry)

Chapter 3

Harry shivered, even though the room was warm, and rubbed his hands up and down his bare arms. Take a few deep breaths. This will be OK. It will be good.

Deep breaths and his attempts to calm himself down weren't doing much to make Harry less nervous. Underneath that, there was a deep arousal that had been fed by countless fantasies running through his head since he had received this damn gift. It had been so distracting, images of naked bodies or sex toys popping into his head at work or during the boring speeches at charity events.

Now, stripped down to only his boxer briefs, Harry tried to control his thoughts. An erection would be far too obvious. The longer he waited, the harder it got to control.

How long had it been since one of the brothel staff led him to Dante's bedroom and told him to strip down and kneel? Ten minutes? Twenty? It felt like ages.

Finally, he heard someone approaching in the hallway outside, and he tensed, stomach suddenly tight with nerves. The door swung open and a man in a black robe with the hood up stepped inside.

Harry's heart was pounding, and he looked down to the floor. Isn't that what good subservient people did?

The man stood right in front of Harry, his feet encased in dragon hide boots, and tight blue jeans hugging his long, slim legs. A finger under Harry's chin urged his face upwards, and Harry let his gaze travel along his body. A snug black t-shirt, pale skin of his throat, and a face in shadow from the generous fabric of his hood.

Harry could feel the man's eyes on him, the finger under his chin keeping him in place as he looked his fill. No doubt the man recognized him, and Harry had to dig deep to stop himself from looking away. He had decided to not alter his appearance while in this room. Yes, he was Harry Potter, and he was here as a client of a male dom. Would Dante be able accept that, and be able to treat him like a regular client?

The man gave a slight chuckle, and moved his hand away from Harry to push his own hood back. He stared down at Harry, a defiant glint in his grey eyes, a small smirk threatening to become bigger on his lips. "Harry Fucking Potter."

Harry could only stare back in shock. It took dry swallowing a couple times before he found he could speak. "Draco Malfoy."

Draco stepped away, slipping off his black robe and hanging it on a hook near the door. It gave Harry a chance to breathe again, looking over the man he hadn't seen in years, heart pounding hard in his ears.

The man had filled out since Hogwarts, his body still obviously slim in the snug jeans and t-shirt, but his angles rounded by lean muscles. His hair had deepened to a darker blond, and there was a light scruff of whiskers along his jaw. He definitely looked like a man now instead of a boy. Harry found himself licking his lips as his eyes traced over the way the denim clung to his ass.

Spinning around quickly, Draco caught where Harry's gaze had been and chuckled again. Harry felt his cheeks warm a little, and he looked away. He felt so out of his element here, vulnerable and exposed.

Grabbing a simple wooden chair, Draco put the back towards Harry and straddled it, his arms folded along the top rail. He looked down at Harry, still kneeling before him in just his underwear, and simply shook his head slowly.

"When Monique told me I had a new client named James, I never considered for a moment it could be you. The great Harry Potter, here, paying to be my little plaything for an hour? How delicious." His grin was slow, and, Harry couldn't deny to himself, sexy.

Harry scoffed. "And I hardly thought the man she so highly praised would be you, Dante."

Tilting his head back a little, Draco laughed again. "Touché. Yes, I suppose neither of us wants our names bandied about. Although I still see your's often enough in The Daily Prophet."