Draconia shifted her weight on the polished surface of the desk, feeling the hard, unyielding grain of the wood beneath her thighs. She had one leg crossed over the other, her skirt riding up to mid-thigh as she posed. Harry sat in the front row of the classroom, a textbook open before him, but his eyes were not on the page. He was looking at the way her knee caught the light, his gaze fixed on the pale skin of her inner thigh. He had stopped pretending to study five minutes ago, and she could see the tension in his shoulders.
"You are staring, Harry," she said, her voice cutting through the quiet of the empty room.
He blinked, snapping his eyes up to her face, though he did not look away. "It is hard not to."
"Is it?" she asked, a slow smirk spreading across her lips. "Perhaps the text is simply more interesting from this angle."
He let out a short, huffed breath that might have been a laugh. "The text is boring. You are not."
Draconia leaned back on her hands, pressing her palms into the wood to steady herself. She liked the way the height changed things; she was not looking up at him from a seated position, but looking down from a pedestal. The classroom felt vast and lonely around them, a hollow shell of a room that only existed because her father’s gold had filled the coffers. She could see the way his throat moved when he swallowed, the way his fingers gripped the edge of his book.
"You could look back at your work if you wanted to pass your exams," she said, her tone teasing but sharp.
"I think I have learned enough for today," Harry replied, closing the book with a decisive thop.
He stood up and walked toward her, the heavy footsteps of his boots echoing on the stone floor. He stopped at the edge of the desk, his chest nearly brushing her knees. Draconia did not move; she stayed perched high, her spine straight and her expression one of bored command. She watched him reach out, his hand hovering near her calf before he finally touched the skin.
"Do you always do this?" he asked, his voice dropping an octave. "Sit where you do not belong?"
"I belong wherever I choose to be," she said, tilting her head back.
"You are a menace," he muttered, his eyes darkening as he stepped closer, moving into the space between her spread legs.
Draconia reached down, her fingers catching the front of his robes to pull him closer. She leaned forward, the movement bringing her face level with his, and pressed her lips to his in a hard, bruising kiss. The wood was cool against her skin, but the heat of him was immediate. As they broke the kiss, she felt the friction of the desk against her skin, the solid reality of the furniture holding her up.
"You should know," she whispered against his mouth, her breath hot against his skin, "that this wood cost more than your whole year's books."
Harry did not respond with words; instead, he gripped her hips and lifted her. Draconia gasped as he slid her to the edge of the desk, her skirt bunching around her waist. He moved between her legs, his hands sliding up her thighs to find the damp heat of her knickers. He pushed the silk aside, his fingers finding her wet, swollen pussy.
"You are so wet," Harry said, his voice thick with a sudden, desperate hunger.
"Then stop talking and fuck me," she commanded, her fingers digging into his shoulders.
He unfasten his trousers with hurried, clumsy movements, his eyes never leaving hers. When his cock sprang free, thick and pulsing, Draconia felt a jolt of heat in her belly. He guided the head of his cock to her slit, rubbing the head of his member against her clitoris before he pushed inward. He entered her in one long, heavy stroke, burying his length deep inside her cunt. Draconia threw her head back, her spine arching as her muscles clamped around him.
"God, Draconia," he groaned, his voice a low growl in the empty room.
He began to move, his hips striking the base of her pelvis with a rhythmic, heavy thud. Every time he drove into her, the desk creaked beneath them, a sturdy, expensive sound that echoed in the high rafters. He gripped her waist, his thumbs digging into the soft flesh of her hips as he fucked her. The sensation was blunt and overwhelming; she felt the stretch of him filling her, the way his cock rubbed against her inner walls with every deep thrust.
"Harder," she hissed, her legs wrapping around his waist to pull him even deeper. "Do not be gentle."
Harry obeyed, his pace increasing as he drove his cock into her with more force. He leaned forward, his chest pressing against her breasts, his sweat dripping onto her skin. He was a solid, heavy weight, and the friction of his pubic bone against her clitoris made her vision blur. She could feel the slickness of her own juices coating his shaft as he slid in and out of her, the sound of his wet, slapping cunt filling the silence of the classroom.
He reached down, his fingers finding her clitoris and rubbing it vigorously as he fucked her. Draconia cried out, her hips bucking upward to meet his thrusts. She felt the build-up in her lower belly, a tight, sharp ache that demanded release. He shoved himself deep, his cock hitting her cervix, and she felt the first waves of her orgasm begin to roll through her.
"I am close," she gasped, her eyes fluttering shut. "Harry, fuck, right there."
"Stay with me," he commanded, his teeth grazing the skin of her neck.
He did not slow down; he drove into her with a frantic, desperate speed, his cock sliding through her cream. He was fucking her with a singular focus, his thrusts becoming short and sharp. Draconia felt the tension snap, her walls pulsing and squeezing around his cock as her orgasm took her. She screamed his name into the empty air, her body shaking with the intensity of the release.
Seeing her come made him lose his control. Harry let out a guttural sound, his muscles cording as he pushed one last time, burying his cock as deep as it could go. He groaned as he came, his hot cum filling her pussy, the sensation of his pulsing shaft driving her even further into the peak of her climax. He slumped against her, his breath coming in heavy, ragged gasps as he stayed buried inside her, the heat of his cum a warm weight inside her womb.
They stayed like that for a long moment, the only sound the heavy rhythm of their breathing and the settling of the old wood beneath them. Draconia opened her eyes, the haze of the orgasm slowly receding, and looked at the ceiling. She felt satisfied, the high-priced wood of the desk still firm beneath her hips, a silent witness to the way she had used it.