Chapter Text
It was the night after his first day on holiday, and Harry was in his happy place: laid on his back, with his fiancée astride him rolling her hips. Her short dress had ridden up her thighs, and bunched around her waist, revealing lacy red panties, rolling back and forth against his bulge. His gaze travelled upwards, to Daphne's cleavage, the faintest hint of bra visible beneath the tight fabric of her dress, further, to her smirking face, red lips glistening.
He reached for her tits-
-and she slapped his hands away.
"What do you think you're doing, mister?" she asked, still rolling her hips, still smirking.
"Grabbing your tits," he grunted. "Or trying to."
"Without even saying please?"
Oh, so Daphne was in that kind of mood tonight? Harry briefly considered flipping them over and claiming his prize; that was fun, sometimes... but so was lying beneath Daphne, and letting her dictate things.
"Please," he said.
"Is that the best you can do?"
He opened his mouth to try again, but was interrupted by a sound from the next room over - Bill and Fleur's room. Faint, muffled, but unmistakably a satisfied moan.
Harry laughed. "Sounds like our hosts are having fun."
"You could be, too," Daphne purred, her fingers working at the buttons of Harry's shirt, "if you asked nicely."
"Please, Daphne," Harry said, "may I grab your glorious tits?"
"Glorious?"
"Wonderful. Brilliant. Perfect."
Daphne rolled her eyes. "You can do better than that," she giggled, pulling open Harry's shirt.
"Ohhh, Bill!" came a moan from next door, louder than the last.
"You like that, flower?"
Harry's cock throbbed beneath his trousers, and this time it had little to do with Daphne.
"Don't you wish you were having as much fun as them?" Daphne said. "Ask me nicely."
"Pleeease, Daphne," he begged, hamming it up now, "bless me with your body. Let me see all of you, feel all of you, taste all of you."
"Better. But what's in it for me?"
"Oui! Oui! Ouiiiii!"
Harry smirked. "I'll make you moan like that."
"I don't speak French," Daphne drawled, tracing her fingertips along the scars that criss-crossed Harry's chest. "Besides, I think she's putting it on."
"Maybe she's just the loud type."
"Oui! Like that! Don't stop!"
"Or," Daphne said, her eyes glittering, "maybe Bill's just that good."
Harry's mind took a moment to catch up, and then he felt a surge of jealousy. Why was Daphne thinking about how good another man might be in bed?
His feelings must have shown on his face, because Daphne laughed. "Oh, you silly man. Tell me you're not feeling jealous?"
He took a breath. He was being silly. It was him Daphne was straddling, not Bill – and besides, hadn't he just been thinking, and talking, about what Fleur was like in bed? "Sorry."
"I don't want you to apologise," Daphne said, and then she reached down to take her dress and pull it over her head in one smooth motion, revealing pale skin and red lace. "I want you to show me that you're just as good as Bill."
"Better," Harry said, but he felt doubt creeping into his mind. Bill was older, more experienced, and doubtless had learnt a lot from Fleur. Harry? He'd only ever been with one woman. He forced a cocky grin onto his face.
Daphne was moving, climbing across his chest, her thighs appearing to either side of his face. Red lace descended towards his mouth, and then Daphne's finger was hooked into the panties, pulling them aside, her pussy glistening as it kissed Harry's tongue.
"Mmmh," she moaned, right away. Louder than usual, Harry wondered?
"Deeper - fill me up with your cock..."
"Yeah? You want me to bury this big cock inside of you?"
"All the way!"
Harry lapped hungrily at Daphne's lips, feeling her ooze wetness onto his face, dribbling down onto his cheeks, his chin.
"Yes, Harry," she moaned, and this time, there was no doubt she was being louder than she normally was. "Yes, work that tongue on my pussy!"
"Ohhhh - Billlll - you're going to make me cum!"
"Gonna cum around this big cock?"
"Fuck, you've got me soaking wet!"
"Bill! Oui! Oui!"
"Your tongue feels so good on my wet cunt!"
There was no doubt now, in Harry's mind, that both women were moaning not just for their own men, but for the audience. Daphne especially... She wasn't normally descriptive in her dirty talk. The thought that she was putting on a show for Fleur made his cock ache with need; the thought that it was for Bill as well... He gripped her thighs tightly, working his tongue back and forth at a furious pace.
"OUIIIIIIIII! BILL! BILL! OUIIIIIIIIIIII!" and the moans were accompanied with the sound of the headboard rattling against the wall.
Harry couldn't help but picture the scene next door, Fleur on her back, naked, sweaty, writhing and moaning in pleasure. He also couldn't help swapping himself out for Bill, in that imaginary space.
"Keep going baby! Make me cum, make me cum on your face!"
"Good girl," Bill's voice, cutting through the noise. "Now come and taste yourself on my cock."
Daphne's hips were rolling again now, pressing her pussy down into Harry's eager and willing mouth. "Yes! Yes! Like that! Don't stop! Yes! Keep - oh Merlin - keep licking my cunt! Yes!"
"Oh fuck, your mouth feels good on my cock."
Daphne's panted words gave way to incoherent moaning and gasping, and then she was cumming, shuddering and squirming atop Harry's tongue.
She rolled off of him, sweaty and satisfied. "Merlin!" she half-shouted. "That orgasm felt so good."
"Laying it on thick, huh?" Harry asked quietly.
"I - don't know what you mean," Daphne said, a half-hearted denial.
"There's a good girl, take all of my cock - look at you, so pretty with a cock bulging in your throat."
"We're putting on a show, aren't we?" Harry asked.
Daphne's lips twitched. "Maybe."
"Then let's make the next act even louder."
And they did.