分卷阅读40（2 / 2）

“You want to get out of here?” Potter whispered.

“But the ceremony hasn’t even started yet.”

Potter stepped closer, until their bodies were almost touching. Draco felt his breath on his face and shivered in spite of himself. It took everything in him to hold still when Potter slowly trailed his fingers across Draco’s cheek and then —Draco gulped —down his neck.

“But…won’t Chang be mad if you—”

“You really want to talk about Cho right now?”

He really, really didn’t.

“Okay, let’s go,” Draco croaked.

“Yours or mine?”

It was hard, trying to form coherent sentences. Yours or mine? Merlin, his knees were getting weak. This was it, wasn’t it? He’d finally have Potter to himself. Desire flared up inside him, mingling with an undeniable rush of nervousness. Potter was experienced, at least far more experienced than Draco. Maybe it would at least help to be in the familiarity of his own ho?

“Mine,” he finally said, swallowing around the lump in his throat. Potter nodded and Draco felt his fingers on his arms. Bracing himself for the unfortable suction of Apparition, he squared his shoulders and balled his hands into fists. He startled when warm fingers suddenly closed around his right fist. Instinctively, his muscles loosened. Potter lost no ti intertwining their fingers.

“Before we go…”

Draco let himself be lead into the house, into the hallway, where Potter stopped and pulled him close.

“This is your chance to get out of this,” he murmured, his eyes searching Draco’s.

“What?” Draco breathed. He was too dizzy for a clever response.

“Tell if you want to stop,” Potter whispered, his gaze flicking down to Draco’s mouth. Merlin, why would he want him to stop? “Draco, do you want to—”

“Don’t stop,” Draco croaked, feeling like he was lting in Potter’s arms. How long had he wanted this? How often had he dread about this? How long had he yearned for Potter, wanting him so badly it had driven him insane?

Every fiber of him seed to be prickling, his heart jigging around in his chest in anticipation. Would reality be able to keep up with his dreams? Would Potter be really as good as Draco had imagined? Would he be gentle? Rough? Would he—Sweet Mother of everything that is holy!

If Potter hadn’t held him securely in his arms, Draco was sure he would have floated away. The press of Potter’s lips against his, the soft scrape of his beard against Draco’s skin, his intoxicating sll, the way his hands were digging into Draco’s back, trying to pull him closer still…Dreams really couldn’t keep up with reality.

He blinked when Potter slowly pulled back, his breathing ragged and uneven. His eyes were soft and unguarded and Draco’s heart skipped a beat when the dark skin around them crinkled and Potter gave him a shy smile.

Seized by sothing that was coiling in the pit of his belly, Draco threw his arms around Potter’s neck. He felt Potter’s lips part against his as he let out a little gasp. Next thing he knew, he was the one gasping as Potter started sucking on his bottom lip. Sweet, sweet Salazar! Draco made a gurgling sound at the back of his throat when Potter released his lip, only to caress Draco’s tongue with his own. He curled his fingers around the back of Potter’s neck, feeling certain he would fall over if he didn’t clutch at him as tightly as he could. Potter groaned in what seed to be approval before Draco suddenly felt the violent jerk of being Apparated without warning.