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Entourage of Possession

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A firm knock on the door to Draco's study brought the casual conversation to a quiet pause. He smiled winsomely at the three German businessmen he'd spent the past weekend wining and dining in hopes that they'd accept his proposal. A contract between their two firms would benefit everybody, a fact Draco was certain they were all smart enough to see, but it didn't hurt to be thorough. It was time for Draco to present his final incentive.

"Ah, that must be my partner," Draco explained. "As I mentioned earlier, he's been away on business all week. I told him to come and find me as soon as he got back." His smile turned lascivious, and the men grinned back at him. "I've missed him terribly. You don't mind the interruption, do you gentlemen?"

"Nein," Klaus replied. "Of course not. Let your boy in." He was the oldest of Draco's guests, though only about ten years older than Draco himself, with a thick chest, dark blond hair, and clever eyes that didn't miss a thing. He was decently attractive, as were his colleagues, and though that didn't really matter one way or the other, it certainly didn't hurt, particularly given what Draco had in store for them.

"Come in, Harry," Draco called out, nodding his thanks at Klaus. Of course, Klaus wasn't being entirely selfless with his generosity. Draco had been feeling out his guests all weekend, wanting to ensure his gift would be properly appreciated. He'd let enough hints slip over the past couple days that somebody as shrewd as Klaus was sure to have figured out the general idea of what Draco had planned. Sure enough, when Harry walked into the room, Klaus's eyes were hot and assessing, anticipatory, and Draco suppressed a smirk before turning to look at Harry.

"Hello, darling, how was your trip?"

Harry rolled his eyes fondly, likely at Draco referring to his undercover operation as a "trip", though he was perfectly aware of the need for discretion in front of their guests. "It was fine. I'm happy to be home, though."

He leaned over to brush a kiss against Draco's lips before plopping down next to him on the loveseat with a shudder so delicate it was almost unnoticeable. Draco noticed though, and he let out a small, approving sound, knowing that Harry would recognise it for the praise it was. Sure enough, Harry's cheeks tinged pink and his smile softened with pleasure.

They’d been apart for a week, which was far too long in Draco's opinion. He allowed himself a brief moment to examine Harry, taking in the slightly-darker-than-normal circles beneath his eyes and the tightness of his jaw that always seemed to manifest after a grueling case. Anybody else might not have picked up on the agitation radiating from Harry's frame, but Draco had spent a very long time watching him very closely and had learned most, if not all, of his tells. Still, Harry was clearly happy enough to be here now, a faint glow of anticipation lighting up his eyes, a little more of his tension melting away with each second that passed. He might be exhausted from his most recent assignment, but that was all the more reason for Draco to go through with his plans. Harry needed to relax, and Draco knew exactly how to help him do so.

"And we're happy to have you home," Draco replied, reaching out to give Harry's hand a quick squeeze. "Speaking of, allow me to introduce my colleagues. This is Klaus, Emil, and Oskar," Draco said, pointing to each gentleman in turn. "They represent Besenstiel, the German broom designers. They're here to discuss a potential partnership with my company."

"Yeah, I remember you mentioning that," Harry said, his forehead furrowing. "Doesn't Besenstiel literally mean broomstick in German? Seems a little…"

"On the nose?" Emil said with a smirk. Unlike his friends, he was slender rather than stocky, with delicate features that belied his more aggressive personality. He looked Harry over with such blatant appreciation, it made Draco bristle with annoyance and pride. "We've always prefered a very… straightforward approach."

Harry's brows rose. "Ah. Well in that case, I hope your discussions have been going well. You'd be a fool to turn Draco down."

Klaus's lips quirked up into an amused smile. "Yes, he's been telling us that himself over the past several days."

Harry grinned. "Sounds like him."

"Thankfully," Draco cut in, his voice low and precise as he wrapped a hand around Harry's knee and began to slowly slide it upwards, "these gentlemen don't appear to be fools. Although, there have been some… unfortunate distractions that have prevented them from being able to fully focus on work."

"Oh?" Harry asked, his pupils expanding as he stared at Draco, quickly catching on to the set-up.

"Mm," Draco hummed. "Take Oskar here," he said, gesturing to the short, well-built man sitting in the armchair to the left, his thick brows heavy over a handsome, if solemn, visage. "He's going through a divorce right now," Draco continued, "and the poor man hasn't got laid in months. He can hardly be expected to concentrate on work when he's so hard up, now can he?"

"No," Harry said on a breathy exhale. "I suppose he can't."

"I knew you'd understand. It's been a while for you too. A week's far too long to go without for somebody who loves cock as much as you do, isn't it?"

Harry nodded, a spasm of longing contorting his pretty face. He wasn't allowed to come until Draco gave him permission, and they'd not been in contact at all while he was undercover, which meant it would have been days since Harry had found release.

Draco reached out and ran a thumb along Harry's plump bottom lip, suppressing a shudder when Harry's tongue darted out to lick his fingertip. "I've always prided myself on being a good host," Draco said, quiet, but clear. "So it's only polite that I do what I can to provide whatever my guests need, don't you think?"

Harry nodded again, and Draco could tell he'd already slipped down into that space where words were harder to grasp and actions the preferred method of communication. Draco turned to look at Oskar, unsurprised to find him massaging his groin as he watched Harry fellate Draco's thumb. "He's quite good with his mouth," Draco told him with a sharp smile. "Would you like to find out for yourself?"

Oskar hesitated for only a moment before replying gruffly, "Sure, why not? A mouth's a mouth."

"You heard him, pet," Draco said to Harry, reluctantly drawing his thumb from between Harry's lips. "Go and give my future colleague over there the best damn blow job he's ever had."

Harry slid off the sofa with a fluid grace borne of practise before crawling the few feet over to where Oskar was sitting. Draco hadn't forbidden him to walk, but he couldn't deny he appreciated the effect, as did his guests judging by the hungry gleam in the three men's eyes as they watched Harry slink over and insinuate himself on the floor between Oskar's spread thighs. The room was silent as Harry reached up to undo Oskar's flies, and the sound of the zip sliding down was obscenely arousing.

Draco wasn't surprised to see that Oskar was already completely hard, his flushed prick eagerly bobbing towards Harry's mouth as Harry freed it from his pants. For all that Oskar had made it unnecessarily clear all weekend that he identified as straight, he certainly seemed eager for Harry to suck him off. Not that Draco could blame him for that, of course.

Harry did have such a lovely mouth.

A lovely mouth that was currently stretching wide and sliding down Oskar's length, taking him in without so much as a pause for breath. Oskar moaned loudly, his gaze dark and heavy as he stared down at Harry, watching him bob his head. Draco could so perfectly picture what Harry looked like from that angle, his dark lashes fanned across his cheeks, his pink mouth vacuum-tight against the thick shaft parting his lips. Arousal pulsed through Draco's body, tinged with the dark green tint of jealousy as he watched his Harry's throat work Oskar's prick.

Still. There really was something so beautiful about watching Harry reduce somebody down to need and desire. Lust hung heavy as smoke in the study, an almost palpable desire filtering through the air. Draco didn't have to look at Klaus and Emil to know their attention was fully focused on the show in front of them, their cocks fattening in their trousers as they coveted what Draco had given to Oskar. Oskar let out another thready moan—Harry must have done that thing with his tongue—and Draco couldn't help but let out a wolfish smile.

"I told you he was good with his mouth," Draco said before taking a sip of his chilled whisky—kept cold by a whisky stone imbued with a permanent Freezing Charm—to soothe his suddenly-parched throat. Oskar let out a little gasp as he looked helplessly over at Draco, his cheeks flushed.

"You did," Oskar replied with some effort. "I should not have doubted you."

Draco's smile widened as he turned his gaze lazily over to where Klaus and Emil were sitting on the sofa, confirming with pleasure that the both of them were every bit as strung out with hunger as he'd hoped.

"You know," he said, lowering his tone into something confidential and conspiratorial. "As good as he is with his mouth, his arse is even better. Nobody can take a cock like my Harry."

"Such a bold statement demands verification, don't you think?" Klaus replied gamely, a wicked smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Oh, I learned long ago not to make claims I can't back up," Draco said lightly. "Care to find out for yourself?"

Klaus dipped his head. "I've always appreciated a hands-on approach."

Draco huffed an amused laugh before bringing his focus back to where Harry was still doing his best to suck out Oskar's brains through his dick.

"Please do excuse me, Oskar, but I'm afraid we'll need to temporarily pause for a location change. Harry, dear, I'd like you to strip now and bend over my desk."

Draco had barely finished speaking before Harry was pulling away from Oskar's cock and standing up, tugging off his shirt as he moved towards the desk. Seeing Harry obey his commands without so much as a flicker of hesitation never failed to get Draco's blood pumping, and this time was no different. It was intoxicating knowing how much faith and trust Harry had in him: that Harry believed Draco was the kind of man who deserved such control over Harry's body. And what a spectacular body it was, sun-kissed and strong, a trim waist and thick thighs and a gorgeous cock that was currently hard and dripping, making no secret of the fact that Harry was thoroughly enjoying himself. And that was to say nothing of his arse, one that Draco had yet to see rivaled. He stared at that arse now, watching it flex and bounce as Harry kicked off his pants and trousers before draping himself over Draco's desk and baring himself to the room. From this position, one could just make out the base of the jade-green plug Draco had instructed Harry to put in before joining them that evening, the one that would leave him slick and open, ready for the fucking that was coming his way.

Draco stood, taking another sip of whisky before making his way over to the desk and trailing his hand, cool with condensation, down Harry's spine, his gaze softening when Harry arched into the pressure like a Kneazle being stroked. Harry looked back at him over his shoulder, his cheeks pink and eyes glassy, gazing at Draco with a kind of naked adoration that made him want to send the others away and keep Harry all to himself. But that would be selfish, and though Draco had never claimed to be otherwise, he also could appreciate a bit of delayed gratification every once in a while. Instead, he murmured a low, "You're doing so well for me, pet," before wrapping his fingers around the base of the plug. He gave it a few twists and thrusts before sliding it all the way out of Harry's arse, giving the room a moment to appreciate the way Harry's rim gaped and fluttered in its absence.

"Oskar, you can take his mouth again," Draco said as he cleaned off the plug and Banished it back to their toy chest with a flick of his wand. "It might be harder for him to move much in this position, so don't be afraid to really fuck his mouth if you need to."

Oskar scrambled up from his chair, looking more than a little ridiculous clutching his trousers mid-thigh and with his dick swinging about, but Draco could forgive him his haste; Harry's mouth could drive men to all kinds of lengths. Oskar let out a half-groan, half-sigh as he got into position and slid smoothly back inside, and Draco turned his smile on Klaus.

"I believe you were going to test the veracity of my claims?"

Klaus's expression was almost predatory as he stood and prowled over to where Harry was spread across the desk, his mouth already stuffed full of Oskar's cock. The covetous look on his face as his gaze slid over the full curve of Harry's arse filled Draco with possessive pride, somehow only enhanced by the subtle undercurrent of fury pulsing through him at the idea of somebody else fucking Harry. Instead of suppressing the jealous anger, he let it ebb and flow within him, adding depth and dimension to his own desire to see Harry utterly debauched.

Like Oskar, Klaus only shoved his pants and trousers down far enough to get to his cock before casting a quick lubrication spell and pressing the tip to Harry's loose rim. He eased himself in slowly, though Draco thought that was more to do with a desire to watch every moment of Harry's arse engulfing his cock than from any particular consideration for Harry. Sure enough, the moment Klaus was all the way in, he immediately pulled back out and began to thrust hard and fast, fucking Harry with a brutal efficiency that had Harry moaning around the cock in his throat. Harry always had enjoyed a good dicking, and though his position bent over the desk didn't offer him much leverage, his enjoyment of the rough treatment was clear from the arch of his back and the way he groaned and whined like a whore around Oskar's thick shaft.

The three of them made quite the striking tableau, and Draco's own dick throbbed within his pants, eager to get in on the action. His hand itched with the need to provide a little relief, to grip and massage his aching groin, but he reached for his whisky glass instead, taking a steadying gulp of the burning liquid—he had plans for later; he could wait.

Emil seemed less keen on waiting. He'd left his comfortable seat and had made his way towards the desk, stroking his cock as he watched. Judging by the sounds Klaus and Oskar were making, both of them were close, and Draco wondered who would come first, and which hole Emil would be availing himself of.

The thought brought a fresh wave of jealousy washing through him. Draco never had been good at sharing, had always fiercely guarded his toys from others. This was no exception, though the jealousy was different with Harry. It didn't turn to bitter insecurity in his chest, instead only magnifying the lust and longing that raced through his veins. Perhaps it was because there wasn't a doubt in Draco's mind that Harry was his, utterly and completely, that none of these men had a chance in the world of winning him. Draco was in control here, was letting the others find pleasure in Harry's body, but he only had to say the word to bring everything to an unsatisfactory halt. None of these men would ever have Harry the way that he did, mind and heart and soul. Harry might give bits of himself to others, but nobody on earth had as much of him as Draco did—not even his Gryffindor mates. None of them knew the filthy, depraved desires that lived within Harry's mind, the furtive fantasies he'd only ever shared with Draco. The knowledge that the deepest, most secret parts of Harry were Draco's alone made it bearable—enjoyable, even—to share Harry's body, to watch as he writhed and moaned whilst speared on another man's cock. These men would never know how much more there was to Harry, how little of him they were really getting. Let them worship at the altar of Harry's mouth and arse, satisfied with scraps while Draco feasted on the whole damn banquet.

Though, to call Harry's mouth and arse scraps was perhaps a bit of a disservice, given how truly spectacular both of them were.

Klaus clearly agreed, his thumbs digging into Harry's pale arsecheeks as he ground in deep and shuddered, his face spasming as he came. He held himself inside for a moment before slowly sliding out, pearlescent come glistening along Harry's rim and dripping down his inner thighs. The moment he was free, Emil was there, all but elbowing Klaus aside as he steadied his thick erection with one hand and shuffled forward. Thankfully Klaus didn't take offense, his expression languid and pleased as he collapsed back onto one of the chaise longues to watch the rest of the show.

Emil was thicker than Klaus, thick enough that Harry clearly felt it, even after the thorough fucking Klaus had already given him. He groaned loudly as Emil sank inside, pulling away from Oskar's erection to pant through the stretch. Oskar didn't seem keen on that—judging by his trembling muscles and his throbbing, blood-flushed dick, he was close to coming and eager to get the the main event. He pulled Harry's open mouth back onto his prick as Emil started fucking him, rocking Harry's pliant body between them as they both chased their release.

Draco knew Harry didn't mind the rough treatment, that, in fact, he loved it—craved it, even. His back bowed beneath the onslaught, arse offered up in eager supplication, throat eagerly massaging the cockhead stretching his lips wide. He was so fucking beautiful in his debauchery Draco couldn't drag his gaze away, his eyes stinging dry from lack of blinking. When first Oskar, then Emil, reached their peak, spilling their come down Harry's throat and deep in his arse, Draco let out a sigh of satisfaction, both in sympathy for his guests finding release, and at the knowledge that his own satisfaction wasn't far off.

"Gentlemen," Draco said after they'd had a chance to catch their breath. His voice was smooth and light, showing no trace of the ragged lust burning its way through him. He stood, thankful for the illusion of control granted to him by the impeccable magical tailoring neatly hiding his aching erection from view. "I hope your evening was… satisfactory."

The men straightened and nodded, a few quick charms fixing their clothes and removing all trace of their activities. If it weren't for the fact that Harry was still sprawled out naked on Draco's desk, come trickling out of his arse and smeared across his lips as he panted harshly against the desktop, one would never even know what had just occured.

Klaus rose from his sprawl on the chaise longue, smiling widely. "It was, yes. Your hospitality has indeed been exemplary. Though I think, perhaps, it is time for us to turn in for the night."

"Yes, of course," Draco agreed. "It's getting late. Allow me to escort you back to your rooms. Harry, darling, wait here for me, will you?" He gave Harry's arse a firm smack, the sound echoing throughout the room. "Don't move."

Harry didn't respond, but Draco didn't expect him to. He walked out of the study without a backwards glance, leading the way down the corridor and up the stairs to the guest wing of the Manor. Klaus walked quietly at his side, Emil and Oskar bringing up the rear, discussing something quietly in German.

"You'll be leaving tomorrow morning," Draco said as their neared their rooms. "Might I expect to hear your company's verdict on my proposal before then?"

"I'm afraid I must run everything by the rest of management back home before we can give an official statement on any potential contracts."

"And unofficially?" Draco asked with a quirked brow, stopping just outside Klaus's door.

Klaus grinned and held out his hand. "Unofficially, I say I look forward to doing business with you Mr Malfoy."

"Please, if we're to be partners, I insist that you call me Draco," Draco said as he smiled back, giddy triumph making him feel light as air. He gave Klaus's hand a hardy shake. "I hope you enjoy the rest of your night."

Klaus's smile turned wicked. "Oh, I'm sure it'll be fine, though certainly not so fine as yours."

Draco smirked and inclined his head. The man wasn't wrong.

"As you say. Please do let the house-elves know if you need anything. I'm afraid I'll be unavailable for the rest of the night."

Klaus laughed before stepping inside his room, and Draco turned away, anticipation beginning to crest. Oskar and Emil had entered their own rooms while Draco and Klaus had been talking, and Draco was grateful he didn't have to waste any more time on pleasantries. Frankly, he wasn't sure he'd be able to manage it.

Not when he had Harry waiting for him.

Draco pressed open the door to his study, humming in appreciation at the view that greeted him. As expected, Harry was precisely where he'd been when Draco had left, the right side of his face pressed against Draco's desk as glazed eyes tracked Draco's progress from the doorway. It was clear Harry was still under, floating in that soft, simple space he so frequently begged Draco to put him in. It was a pleasure to do so, to see Harry's heavy burdens tumble off his broad shoulders, if only for a little while.

"You've done so well for me, sweetheart. Such a lovely, perfect pet."

He reached out to card a hand through Harry's sweat-damp hair, and Harry shuddered at the contact. His hips twitched against the desk, as if searching for some relief for his straining cock against the unforgiving grain. He'd not come once throughout his fucking, though Draco had known he wouldn't—Draco hadn't given him permission to. Draco smiled proudly and reached for his belt buckle.

"You deserve a reward for being so good, don't you?" Harry nodded, and his eyes dropped down to where Draco was undoing his flies. "Do you want my cock, love? Want to come while I'm fucking you."

Harry let out an eager moan, spreading his legs wider and arching his back as much as he could in his position, a clear invitation. Draco ran a palm down his spine to cup his left arsecheek, rubbing a thumb along the downy peach-fuzz growing there.

"If you want it, you have to ask me for it, love, you know the rules."

Harry often went nonverbal when he was as far down as he was right now. As flattering as it was to know he'd been able to render his strong, capable lover mute, Draco enjoyed hearing him beg for it even more.

It took a few moments before Harry was finally able to speak, his voice scratchy from disuse, and from the throat-fucking Oskar had just given him.

"Please, Draco," he said, looking back over his shoulder to demurely meet Draco's gaze, desperation writ across every cell in his body. "Please fuck me. Make me come."

Draco's thumb dug into the meat of Harry's arse, pulling apart his cheeks to reveal his puffy hole, still dripping Klaus and Emil's come. Rage flashed through Draco like lightning as he pressed the head of his dick to Harry's entrance and slid inside the wet heat, his earlier fury at other men touching and fucking and coming inside his Harry rising up to the surface in a flash flood of emotion. The fact that he'd allowed it, encouraged it even, didn't factor in at all. All that mattered was that they had touched what belonged to Draco, tried to claim and mark Harry for their own. They couldn't have him.

Harry was his.

The possessive wrath only fanned the flames of his ardour higher, and he fucked Harry hard and fast, tilting his hips so that he hit the angle he knew would make Harry writhe and scream. He could fuck Harry better than those men, better than anyone. He knew Harry's body like it was his own, and he was determined to make this so good, to make Harry come so hard, that there wouldn't be room in his head for anybody other than Draco.

Given how long the both of them had been waiting for relief, it didn't take long. Harry's cries grew increasingly loud and desperate as he begged Draco to let him come, and the moment Draco granted permission, murmuring, "Come for me, pet," Harry was finished. With a shuddering wail Harry spurted all over Draco's desk, leaving glistening streaks of come sliding down the expensive mahogany. Harry's muscles clenched around Draco's pistoning cock as he found his release, and the additional pressure was enough to send Draco tumbling over the edge after him, emptying his balls deep in Harry's perfect arse.

Reluctantly, Draco eventually pulled out of said perfect arse, something primally possessive purring inside of him at the sight of his fresh claim sliding out of Harry's arsehole. Harry had gone boneless against the desktop, and Draco took a few moments to dry the sweat from his and Harry's bodies and to clean off Harry's come from the wooden side panels (while leaving his own come dripping down Harry's thighs) before bundling Harry up into his arms and Apparating them both to their bedchamber.

The house-elves had left several glasses of water and a Pain-Reliever Potion on the bedside table as instructed, and Draco grabbed for the water as he pulled Harry onto bed, tugging the coverlet over them both. Harry fell easily against him when manoeuvred, and obediently drank from the glass when Draco held up to his lips. Draco made him drink down the entire cup before he let Harry push him down against the mattress and snuggle up against his chest.

"Thank you, for tonight," Harry said quietly. His voice was still scratchy and fucked-out, and Draco's soft cock gave a half-hearted twitch against his thigh. "I know it's not always easy for you, letting other blokes have me."

Draco growled. "None of them have you. Nobody does but me."

Harry smiled against Draco's breast bone. "Exactly. You take such good care of me." He leaned up to press a soft kiss to the underside of Draco's chin, making him shudder. "I just want you to know how much it means to me, that you give me this."

"Of course, Harry. Anything for you." He ran a hand down Harry's spine, sliding his fingers into the crease of Harry's arse and petting at his rim, still wet with Draco's come. Harry's breath hitched. "It's not exactly a hardship, you know, seeing what a slut you are for cock. I don't always have the chance to properly appreciate it when I'm fucking you myself—your tight arse is rather distracting."

"S'not so tight right now," Harry said sleepily.

"No," Draco replied quietly as he slid two fingers easily inside, slipping through lube and come. "I suppose not."