Harry had one hand on Draco’s thigh, holding his trembling legs open, hand so deep in Draco’s pussy, he was one careful flick of the wrist away from sliding his entire fist inside. Draco’s come dripped down Harry’s arm pooling in the crook of his elbow but he kept up his relentless pace, thumb slipping over the abused nub of Draco’s clit. Harry was painfully hard in his trousers, soaked through his underwear, a wet patch blossoming on his jeans.