Harry's Winter Wonderland (Ch. 7 - Daphne's Perfect Morning - Part II)

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Disclaimer: This story is set in a timeline where Harry Potter returns to Hogwarts for his final, eight year after defeating Voldemort. All characters featured in this story are 18+, and none of them are related to each other.

The wind whipped around them, cold and biting, as Harry piloted the Firebolt higher into the sky, the snow-capped peaks of the mountains stretching out beneath them like a vast, untouched canvas. The sun had begun to climb steadily, casting a warm, golden glow over the pristine landscape, the light glinting off the ice and snow in a dazzling display of sparkling diamonds.

But despite the breathtaking vista that surrounded them, Harry could barely focus on any of it. For there, seated firmly in his lap, her long legs wrapped tightly around his waist, was Daphne Greengrass—and she was making it her personal mission to drive him utterly insane.

She ground against him, the heat of her body seeping into his own despite the chill, her hips rolling in a rhythm that was designed to tease, to make him so hard that he could barely think straight. He could feel the curve of her arse pressing against his cock, her body undulating in a slow, sensuous dance that made his heart race and his breath catch in his throat.

And as if that weren't enough, her lips—her soft, sweet, perfect lips—were pressed against his neck, her tongue darting out to taste his skin, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through his veins.

"Daphne," he growled in warning, but she just giggled, her breath tickling his ear.

He could feel her smile against his neck, her breath hot on his skin. "What's wrong, Harry?" she whispered, her voice the very essence of innocence, even as she rolled her hips against him once more, grinding against his cock in a way that made him see stars. "Can't focus?"

Fucking tease.

He gripped the handle of the broom tighter, his knuckles going white with the strain of trying to keep his control, trying to keep his focus on the task at hand—which was, namely, keeping them from plummeting to their deaths in the snowy peaks below.

But it was no use. He was only human, after all—and Daphne Greengrass was a goddess amongst women, a siren sent to tempt him, to make him lose all sense of reason.

And he was more than ready to be led astray.

With a growl, he banked the broom sharply to the left, making Daphne yelp in surprise as she clung to him tighter, her arms wrapping around his body in a vice-like grip. He smirked to himself, satisfied with the small victory, as he scanned the horizon, searching for a suitable place to land.

And there, nestled in the curve of a mountain, was a small alcove, overlooking a valley so beautiful that it made his heart ache. The sun shone down upon the untouched snow, the light reflecting off the ice crystals in a mesmerising display of colour, the trees below them draped in a thick, white blanket, their branches glittering like diamonds.

It was perfect.

He brought the broom down carefully, his heart pounding in his chest as he landed them safely in the alcove. And then, with a flick of his wrist, he cast a warming charm, the air around them shimmering as the heat took effect, the cold mountain air held at bay by his magic.

Daphne looked around, her eyes wide with wonder as she took in the scene before them. "Harry, it's beautiful," she breathed, her voice barely more than a whisper.

But Harry wasn't looking at the landscape. He was looking at her—at the way her eyes shone with delight, at the way her lips curved into a soft smile, at the way her cheeks were flushed from the broom ride.

It was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen.

"Not as beautiful as you," he said, the words slipping from his lips before he could stop them.

Her eyes flashed up to meet his, surprise and delight warring in their blue depths. And then, slowly, a soft smile curved her lips, and she leaned in, pressing her mouth to his in a kiss that was so sweet, so tender, that it made his cock throb with need.

He kissed her back, his hands coming up to cup her face, his fingers tangling in her hair as he lost himself in the feel of her, in the taste of her, in the sheer, overwhelming rightness of her.

And then, with a soft moan, she was pressing herself against him, her body moulding to his as she deepened the kiss, her tongue slipping into his mouth to dance with his own.

He groaned, his hands slipping down to grip her hips, to pull her against him, to grind her against his cock in a way that made them both gasp.

"Harry," she breathed, her voice a soft, desperate plea as she clung to him, her body writhing against his own.

He knew what she wanted—what she needed. And he was only too happy to oblige.

With a swift, practised ease, he stripped her of her clothes, his hands roaming over her body, his fingers tracing the curve of her waist, the swell of her hips, the soft, smooth skin of her thighs. Her jacket was tossed aside, her jeans discarded, her earmuffs and boots cast away without a second thought.

And then she was standing before him, clad only in her tiny thong, her breasts bare to his gaze, her nipples hard.

He drank in the sight of her, his eyes roving over every inch of her body, his cock throbbing in his trousers as he took in her beauty.

"You're teasing me again, Greengrass," he growled, his voice hoarse with need.

"Then punish me, Potter," she shot back, her blue eyes flashing with challenge even as she hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her thong, slowly sliding it down her hips, revealing the perfect, smooth curve of her cunt.

And then, with a smirk, she turned around, presenting him with the sight of her perfect, round arse, her body bent slightly at the waist, her long legs parted just enough to give him a glimpse of the heaven that awaited him between her thighs.

He didn't need any further invitation.

With a growl, he stripped off his own clothes, casting them aside without a second thought, his cock hard and throbbing, jutting out from his body in a display of sheer, primal need.

He stepped up behind her, his hands gripping her hips, his fingers digging into her soft, supple flesh. She gasped, her back arching as she felt his heat, the hot length of his cock sliding between her thighs, the tip brushing against her slick, wet slit.

"Harry," she breathed, pushing back against him, her cunt aching to be filled.

And then, with one swift, powerful thrust, he was inside her, his cock buried to the hilt in her tight, wet heat.

They both cried out, their voices echoing through the mountains, the sound of their pleasure ringing out through the crisp, clear air.

"Fuck," he swore, his voice a guttural groan as he stilled, his lungs heaving with the effort of holding back. "Daphne, you're so fucking tight—"

And then he drew back, before plunging in again, the slick walls of Daphne's cunt wrapping around his cock with a grip that had him gritting his teeth. Her pussy fluttered around him, sending a bolt of lightning straight to his balls as the pleasure coiled through him.

She moaned, the sound pure and wild, as she pushed back against him, her cunt fluttering and clasping at him, like it never wanted to let go.

Tracey had been right; Daphne's pussy was the most sensitive, needy thing he'd ever slid his dick into. That the beautiful Slytherin, normally so composed and in control, would be so vulnerable and needy in the throes of her arousal was incredibly hot, and it thrilled him beyond reason that it was his cock that got her going.

This was the Daphne that only a few people would ever get to see. And if Harry had it his way, no other man would ever get to see this vulnerable, desperate side of her. She was his, and his alone, to make her scream and lose control like a wanton slut.

"Come on, Daphne, let it all out," he grunted, his hips snapping forward, his pelvis hitting her plump, round bottom with a satisfying slap. "Tell the world how you're feeling!"

"Aah! Fuck—!" Daphne gasped, her pussy gripping him tightly as her sudden orgasm ripped through her. "Ah, fuck me—I'M CUMMING!" she screamed at the top of her lungs, her voice carrying out across the valleys below them.

He laughed, his cock continuing its desperate pace, thrusting deep into the depths of her needy pussy, the walls gripping him tightly in time with each wave of her shuddering release. The sound of her release was music to his ears. "That's it," he encouraged, "Let everyone know how much of a slut you are for my cock!"

Harry had no doubt she would have done exactly that if she had caught his words, but Daphne was suddenly having a hard time thinking straight as Harry's cock—which had to be the thickness of her forearm, with girth to spare—probed deeper than anything that had ever been inside of her before, and with every thrust, he bumped her cervix.

Her knees went weak, her body going pliant as he drove every rational thought from her mind with his heavenly cock, making her shake with pleasure.

And then, just as she was about to fall forwards, Harry caught her arms and pulled them behind her, gripping her delicate wrists firmly and making her arch her back and push her breasts out.

"Harry," Daphne moaned, "Oh fuck, that feels incredible. Don't you dare stop!"

"Never," Harry growled, as he rammed his cock into her tight pussy, the flesh of her ass rippling with every thrust as he ravished her perfect pussy like a savage, untamed creature, filling her to the brim and then slamming in over and over and over.

Each thwack of his hips seemed to drive her deeper and deeper into a world of pure euphoria. Daphne had no idea what she did to deserve something so pure and beautiful, but she never wanted it to end.

With her arms as leverage, he drilled into her, his pelvis smacking her round arse with a loud sound—slap! Slap! Slap! over and over, each blow rocking her body as she whimpered and shrieked, feeling her climax slam into her one more time.

"Fuck me, Harry, use me... just like this...!" Daphne cried out. Harry stuffed her pussy with the strength and might of a god. It made her feel so small and so helpless against his onslaught of pleasure, and she loved every second of it.

"Like this, Daphne, you little wanton slut?" Harry chuckled deeply, thrusting even harder as he punished her pussy with brutal, deep thrusts, causing her hips to buck against him with each sharp jab. "Is that what you want, baby? You want me to keep fucking you like you're little more than a stupid little doll for my pleasure?"

Daphne was vaguely aware that what she was saying didn't even make sense—but it didn't have to. She was far beyond the capacity for actual thought, especially since his cock kept her so alive.

"Yes... Please...! I—! Ohhh." She cried out, panting as if out of breath. "Don't stop, Harry, don't stop! Don't—! Aaah! Oh fuck, I think I'm cumming again, Don't stop, Harry, please, I'm so close!" she wailed, gripping at empty air as her muscles spasmed in anticipation of a mind-melting orgasm.

Harry grinned at her enthusiasm, and with a growl he lowered his hips an inch and thrust up into her abused cunt. The new angle let the length of his cock rub against her cervix, and that extra sensation sent Daphne spiralling over the edge.

Her back arched as a spasm of pure, uncut ecstasy tore its way through her body, sending her up on her toes as a scream tore its way out of her throat.

"HHHAAAARRRYYYY!!!!" she cried out to the heavens, feeling the orgasm rip through her body, each wave of pleasure driving her higher and higher—a helpless ragdoll to his brutal thrusts.

As the peak of her pleasure passed, her moans became a ceaseless chant, crying out Harry's name with every hard thrust of his hips.

"Harry! Harry! Yes, Harry! Yes! Keep fucking me, you mad beast! Oh, yes!"

His balls smacked against her ass over and over, filling the mountain air with the sound and smell of sex, the sound of their raw fucking echoing off the distant, jagged peaks.

"That's it, Daphne, you dirty, whore," he grunted, fucking up into her like a wild beast, his pelvic bone grinding against her arse with each thrust of his hips. "I'm close, baby, I'm so fucking close..."

Daphne mewled like a needy little slut, loving the way he sounded as he fucked her over the finish line once more.

"Please, please, please, please, please," she begged, unable to think of anything else to say as he ploughed into her. "Cum in me, Harry. Fill me up to the brim! Breed your needly little cockslut! I want it so badly, please, please!"

Harry's cock throbbed at her words, and he felt his balls tighten, the pressure building as he reached the point of no return.

With a final, powerful thrust, he buried himself deep inside her, his cock pulsing as he filled her with his seed, the force of his release making him see stars.

He roared his pleasure to the gods, his cock throbbing and spurting, filling her pussy with his hot, sticky cum, claiming her as his own.

And as he came down from his high, his body trembling with the force of his release, he knew that this was just the beginning.

For there, beneath the clear blue sky, surrounded by the majestic beauty of the mountains, he had claimed Daphne Greengrass as his own—and he couldn't wait to see what the rest of the holiday had in store for them.

Disclaimer: This story is set in a timeline where Harry Potter returns to Hogwarts for his final, eight year after defeating Voldemort. All characters featured in this story are 18+, and none of them are related to each other.

Reminder that the poll for the new story is available here: https://www.patreon.com/posts/124903740