The dampness of the changing room hung in the air, heavy with the smell of sweat and wet grass. Draconia pulled her heavy woollen robes from her shoulders, letting the fabric slide down her arms until it hit the floor in a heap. Her muscles ached from the final practice, a dull throb in her thighs and lower back that reminded her of how hard she had pushed herself on the pitch. She moved to the wooden bench, peeling off her damp socks and setting her boots aside with a heavy thud.
Harry stood near the row of pegs, his own robes discarded and hanging limp. He looked exhausted, his hair a mess of tangles and sweat, but there was a tension in his frame that had nothing to do with fatigue. He watched her as she unbuttoned her shirt, his eyes following the movement of her hands. The room was quiet, save for the distant drip of a tap and the sound of their own breathing.
"You were fast today," Harry said, his voice sounding raspier than usual.
Draconia wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. "I am always fast, Harry. You are just finally catching up."
He stepped closer, the space between them shrinking until she could feel the heat radiating from his skin. He reached out, his fingers brushing against her bare shoulder, and the contact sent a jolt through her. His hand was rough from the broom handle, a stark contrast to the softness of her skin.
"Is that what we're calling it? Catching up?" he asked, a crooked grin tugging at his mouth.
Draconia leaned into his touch, her eyes closing for a brief second. "Don't get ahead of yourself. You still have a long way to go."
He didn't respond with words. Instead, he gripped the waist of her trousers, pulling her toward him until her hips bumped against his. The friction of his denim against her skin was a sharp, grounding sensation. He leaned down, pressing his mouth to the crook of her neck, and Draconia let out a low moan that she didn't try to hide.
"You're so loud when you think nobody is listening," he murmured against her skin.
"Then make sure nobody is listening," she whispered back, her hands finding the hem of his shirt.
He pulled the fabric up and over his head in one fluid motion, tossing it toward the pegs. His chest was broad and damp, the hair there matted with sweat. Draconia reached out, her fingers tracing the line of his ribs, feeling the hard muscle beneath. She wanted him, and she wanted him right here, in the middle of the empty room, with the scent of the pitch still clinging to them.
Harry groaned as she pulled his trousers down, his hands working to strip her of the rest of her clothes. When she was finally naked, standing before him in the dim light, he let his gaze travel over her body. He didn't look at her with reverence or awe; he looked at her with a desperate, starving hunger.
"God, Draconia," he breathed, his voice a low growl.
He reached for his fly, his fingers trembling slightly as he freed his cock. It was thick and heavy, already weeping a bead of pre-cum at the tip. Draconia knelt before him, her knees hitting the wooden floor, and wrapped her hands around the base of his shaft. He was hot, a pulsing weight in her palms, and she leaned forward to lick the length of him.
"Fuck," Harry hissed, his head snapping back as her tongue swiped over the head of his cock.
She took him into her mouth, her lips tight around the girth of him. She sucked hard, her cheeks hollowing as she worked the length of his cock deep into her throat. She wanted to feel every inch of him, the way he twitched in her mouth, the way his hips jerked forward in an instinctive search for more. She looked up at him through her lashes, seeing the way his eyes were squeezed shut and his jaw was clenched.
"Use your hands too," he choked out, his fingers tangling in her hair to guide her rhythm.
Draconia didn't need to be told. She used her palms to stroke the underside of his cock, her thumbs rubbing circles around the sensitive head. The friction was intense, the wet heat of her mouth clashing with the friction of her skin. She felt the tension building in him, the way his breathing turned into jagged, broken gasps.
She stood up, her legs feeling heavy and weak, and turned around to face the bench. She braced her hands against the wood, arching her back and pushing her arse out toward him. She felt him press against her back, his hard cock sliding against the cleft of her ass.
"I want to feel you inside me," she said, her voice a command.
Harry didn't hesitate. He moved behind her, his hands gripping her hips to hold her steady. He guided the head of his cock to her slit, rubbing the tip against her wet, swollen cunt. She was already slick, her juices coating her thighs as she waited for him. He pushed forward, the head of his cock stretching her open as he began to slide inside.
"Oh, fuck," Draconia gasped, her eyes fluttering shut as he buried himself in her.
He pushed deeper, his pelvis hitting the soft flesh of her arse with a dull thud. He was so large, filling her completely, stretching the walls of her cunt until she felt like she might break. He began to move, a rhythmic, punishing pace that drove the air from her lungs. Each thrust was heavy and deliberate, the sound of his cock slapping against her clitoris echoing in the quiet room.
"You like that?" he grunted, his voice thick with lust. "You like being filled like this?"
"Yes," she gasped, her head swinging side to side. "Faster, Harry. Fuck me faster."
He obeyed, his thrusts becoming more frantic and shallow. He gripped her waist so hard that she knew there would be bruises on her skin by morning. He was a force of nature behind her, his hard, thick cock sliding in and out of her pussy with a wet, squelching sound. Draconia felt the pleasure building, a tight, hard knot in her lower belly that threatened to explode.
She felt him reach her depth, his cock hitting her cervix with every heavy lunge. The sensation was overwhelming, a blunt, driving force that made her toes curl against the floor. She reached back, her fingers finding his thighs, feeling the tension in his muscles as he worked to drive himself into her.
"I'm going to... I'm going to cum," he growled, his voice breaking.
He didn't pull out. Instead, he lunged forward one last time, burying his cock as deep as it could go. He began to pulse inside her, his movements becoming a frantic, desperate shuddering. Draconia felt the warmth of his cum beginning to coat the inside of her, a hot, thick sensation that triggered her own release. She cried out, her body tensing as her cunt clamped down on his cock, the contractions of her orgasm squeezing him.
She felt the heat of him filling her, the heavy weight of his ejaculation hitting the back of her womb. She slumped forward against the bench, her breath coming in ragged, shallow gulps. Harry stayed buried inside her for a long moment, his chest heaving against her back, his skin slick with sweat.
Eventually, he pulled out with a wet pop, the sensation of him leaving her making her whimper. He stood there for a second, watching the messy reality of them, before he reached for a rag to clean himself. He looked tired, a stupid, lopsided grin on his face that made him look much younger than he was.
Draconia turned around, her hair a wild mess and her skin flushed a deep pink