You had never expected the quiet hours after curfew to feel this charged, not until Harry found you alone in the abandoned classroom on the seventh floor. The door sealed itself with a soft click behind him, and the only light came from a single floating candle that cast long shadows across his face. He was older now, the boy who lived grown into a man with stubble along his jaw and a hunger in his green eyes that made your pulse race.
“I’ve been thinking about this all day,” he said, voice low and rough as he crossed the room. His hands found your waist, pulling you flush against him so you could feel the hard line of his cock through his trousers. “You, bent over that desk, letting me do exactly what I want.”
Your breath hitched when he kissed you, deep and demanding, his tongue sliding against yours while his fingers worked open the buttons of your shirt. He pushed the fabric aside and cupped your breasts, thumbs circling your nipples until they tightened into aching peaks. You arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping as he lowered his head and took one into his mouth, sucking hard enough to send sparks straight between your legs.
Harry dropped to his knees without warning, yanking your skirt up and your panties down in one impatient motion. The cool air hit your wet cunt for only a second before his mouth replaced it. He licked a slow, deliberate stripe through your folds, groaning at the taste. “So fucking sweet,” he muttered against your skin, then sealed his lips around your clit and sucked. Two fingers pushed inside you without preamble, curling to stroke that perfect spot while his tongue flicked faster.
Your hands tangled in his messy hair, hips rocking against his face as pleasure coiled tight in your belly. He added a third finger, stretching you open, the wet sounds of his mouth and your slick cunt filling the room. When your thighs started to shake he pulled back, lips shiny, and stood. “Not yet. I want you coming on my cock.”
He freed himself with quick movements, his thick length springing free, already leaking at the tip. You reached for him but he caught your wrist, spinning you around and bending you over the desk. The wood was cool against your bare skin. Harry kicked your feet wider apart, lined up, and thrust in deep with one smooth stroke.
You cried out at the sudden fullness, walls clenching around him. He didn’t give you time to adjust; he pulled almost all the way out and slammed back in, setting a hard, relentless rhythm that made the desk creak. One hand gripped your hip hard enough to bruise while the other reached around to rub tight circles over your clit.
“Take it,” he growled, pace never faltering. “You feel so good squeezing me like that.” Every thrust hit deeper, the head of his cock dragging against that sensitive spot inside you until your vision blurred. Your orgasm crashed over you without mercy, cunt pulsing around him as you moaned his name into the empty room.
Harry didn’t stop. He fucked you through it, then pulled out and flipped you onto your back on the desk. He hooked your legs over his shoulders and drove back inside, the new angle making you gasp. Sweat slicked his chest as he leaned over you, eyes locked on yours while he pounded into your oversensitive body.
“Come again,” he ordered, voice strained. “I want to feel you milk me.” His thumb returned to your clit and you shattered a second time, back arching off the wood.
Harry followed with a guttural groan, burying himself to the hilt as he spilled hot and deep inside you, hips jerking with each pulse.
He stayed there for a long moment, forehead pressed to yours, both of you breathing hard. When he finally eased out, he caught the mess with his fingers and pushed it gently back inside, a possessive glint in his eyes. “We’re not done yet,” he murmured, already hardening again against your thigh. “The night’s still young, and I’ve got a lot more spells I want to try on you.”
