𝐮𝐧𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 | 𝐝.𝐦

𝟏𝟐

Draco Malfoy | December 1995

Draco thrusted one last time before he felt Astoria reach her climax.

He clenched his jaw and balled his one hand into a fist to prevent himself from hammering mercilessly into her for himself to finish.

He continued to thrust, slowly, and gently, so he wouldn't hurt his petite girlfriend.

Slow sex wasn't horrible. He liked it, he really did. But when he was doing it slow and gently every-single-fucking-time, it got harder and harder for himself to even get close to his climax.

He was unable to push all the way into Astoria because he tried once, and she cried out for him to stop. And he did, of course. The most he could push into her was about seven inches.

He had tried to help her adapt to his size—per her request—by pushing in slowly, little by little. It never worked since the most he could push in was roughly seven inches of himself.

He didn't blame her or anything like that, of course not. But it was just frustrating, and he wasn't frustrated with her. Not at all.

Now, Draco dipped his head into the crook of her neck, eyes screwed shut as he continued to slide in and out slowly. His arms rested lazily on either side of her head, his hands trembling as he tried not to fuck her senseless because inevitably, he would hurt her.

He thrusted and thrusted and thrusted.

But he couldn't even find the road to reaching his climax.

It just never came.

Ha, neither did he.

Astoria's arms clung around his neck, her breathing heavy and hot against his ear. "Fuck, Draco. Are you close?" she breathed, her back arching.

"Shit," he hissed, and stopped thrusting. "I can't, Tori."

"It's okay," she whispered, and tangled her fingers in his hair to soothe him, but it didn't. It just made him more frustrated. "It's okay, darling."

Draco reached down to himself and pulled out of his girlfriend. He plopped onto his king sized bed, next to her, and stared blankly at his high ceiling.

It was fine, right? If he didn't finish. Well, not for him because he was more stressed than he was before they had sex.

But it was fine. It had to be. He was being a good boyfriend, right? His girlfriend finished, and that was good. Right?

He still had no idea what the exact definition of a boyfriend was or what their purpose was, but he was too exhausted—mentally and physically—to do anything about it.

Draco had been at his manor for a few days now, and Christmas was in two days. He still had yet to know what his father wanted to discuss, because he wasn't even there.

"Where's father?" Draco had asked his mother when he got to the Manor.

"He had a last minute business trip to take care of something, but he'll be back before the Christmas gathering," Narcissa had said, and kissed her son's cheeks affectionately. "It's good to have you home, my boy."

Now, Draco laid in his bed in his bedroom, his girlfriend snuggling into his side. Their naked bodies tangled beneath the silk, black sheets.

The sun was shining through a small gap between his curtains, and since his curtains blocked light and his walls were hunter green and his furniture was dark wood, his room was very dark at that moment. Other than the small strip of sunlight shining through the curtains.

"Do you want me to help you finish?" Astoria pressed her lips to his bare shoulder.

Draco shook his head and dropped a quick kiss on her head. "It's fine. I'm too stressed anyway."

Astoria had arrived at his Manor the day after he got to his manor, and she was supposed to be leaving the day after Christmas.

This was the fourth time they'd had sex since she arrived, and also the fourth time he didn't finish.

And he got more frustrated each time he wasn't able to finish.

A gentle knock on the door was what made Draco lift his head from his pillow. "Are you decent, dear?" Narcissa called from the other side.

"Not really, Mother, no." Draco sat up straight, running a quick hand through his bedhead. "What's wrong?"

"Just asking what you would prefer for lunch, my boy," Narcissa called back. "Anything specific you want the elves to prepare?"

He looked over his shoulder at Astoria, who was laying down comfortably.

She shrugged.

"What do you fancy to have, Mother?" he responded back.

He heard his mother hum. "I don't know, really. Maybe soup and some sides. It is quite cold out and the manor is a bit chilly." He could hear the brightness in his mum's voice.

"Then soup it is."

"Lovely," Narcissa beamed. He heard the light footsteps of his mother recede.

His mother new he was having sex, it was no big secret. Even though he was only twenty, his mother was very keen on him having children. His mother so happily wanted to be a grandmother.

Draco wouldn't mind kids, but with the right person obviously.

Maybe with someone he could actually finish with. But again, of course, he wasn't blaming Astoria.

Draco with kids. That was a thought, wasn't it?

If he was being completely honest, he didn't want his child to have the same hair as he did. An unnatural-looking platinum blond.

He wanted his child to have a few subtle features from himself, but look exactly like their mother.

Draco was very handsome, he knew that. But if he were to have a kid, he would want his kid to look more like the lady he was in love with. His child's mum.

Because it would mean there would be more of a luminous beauty populating if his children looked like their mother—his baby mama. Or maybe because in Draco's family, the entire family had platinum hair and fair skin, so everyone knew they were The Malfoys.

Maybe Draco just wanted to be different and have a kid with a different, precious face, but still be the biological father to that precious face.

"The soup smells wonderful, Mother." Draco went to kiss his mum's cheek as she prepared tea before he went to sit down. He and Astoria gotten ready for the day after Narcissa's footsteps had grown faint outside his bedroom.

The table was set and there was a treat tower with sliced pieces of long bread on the top plate, tea sandwiches on the middle plate, and mini croissants and crackers on the bottom plate. There were three sets at the table, both with large bowls of soup that smelled like clam chowder.

"Courtesy of our elves." Narcissa smiled as she walked to the table with a tray for tea. "Astoria, darling, help yourself."

"Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy." Astoria smiled and took her seat at the table, next to Draco.

Narcissa took her seat in front of the couple, and then the three of them began to eat. "Your father will be back in a couple days, Draco," she said as she gently blew over her spoonful of soup.

"He said he needed to discuss something with me," he said even though he was feeling nerve-racked with the knowledge of his father coming back. "Do you know what he wants to discuss?"

"I think it's best that you and your father have that discussion." Narcissa's eyes left her son's.

Draco felt another tight knot form in the pit of his stomach, dumping his appetite into oblivion.