The sun moved across the floor of the classroom in a slow, golden arc. Draconia watched the light creep over the legs of the empty desks, marking the passage of time that she had claimed for herself. Harry was no longer pretending to look at his parchment, and the silence of the room was a heavy, comfortable thing. He was sitting on the edge of the desk, his trousers bunched at his knees, while she lay back against the wood. The grain of the desk was hard against her spine, but she did not care about the discomfort. She had spent the last twenty minutes watching the light move, and she intended to spend the next forty feeling the warmth of his skin.
"You are staring," Harry said, his voice low and rough in the quiet room. He reached out to brush a stray blonde hair from her forehead. "Are you actually going to study, or are you just going to watch the sun move?"
"The sun does not care if we finish our Transfiguration essays," she replied, leaning into his touch. She took his hand and guided it down to the knot of her tie. "I find the light much more interesting than the theory of inanimate objects."
He moved closer, his thighs pressing against her hips as he climbed over her. His hands were warm as they slid beneath the hem of her robes, finding the smooth skin of her thighs. Draconia felt the friction of his palms against her skin, a sensation that made her breath hitch in her throat. She reached for the fastening of his trousers, her fingers working with a practiced, unhurried grace. When his cock finally sprang free from his silk underwear, she wrapped her fingers around the length of it. It was hot and heavy in her hand, a thick vein pulsing against her palm.
"Is this part of the lesson?" she whispered, her eyes tracking the movement of his chest as he leaned down to kiss her.
"It is a practical application," Harry murmured against her lips.
He pulled her upright, sitting her on the edge of the desk so her legs could wrap around his waist. Drac leant back, her hands gripping the edge of the dark wood, while Harry moved between her knees. He guided his cock to the opening of her pussy, the tip of it wet with her own moisture. Draconia gasped as he pushed inside her, the blunt force of his entry stretching her wide. He began to fuck her with a steady, rhythmic pace, his hips hitting her pubic bone with a dull thud that echoed in the empty room.
"Fuck," he groaned, his head dropping to the crook of her neck. He drove himself deep, his cock filling her completely.
Draconia arched her back, her fingers digging into the wood of the desk. She could feel the way he filled her, the way his hard shaft scraped against the sensitive walls of her cunt. He pulled out almost entirely before plunging back in, a sensation that made her vision blur. The sunlight caught the sweat on his shoulders as he moved, his skin glistening in the afternoon heat. He was not fast; he was deliberate, making sure she felt every inch of his cock as it slid in and out of her.
"Look at me," he commanded, his voice a jagged edge of desire.
She opened her eyes, finding his gaze intense and focused. He was watching her face, watching the way her lips parted as he drove himself into her. He reached down, his thumb finding her clitoris and rubbing it in a circular motion as he continued to fuck her. The dual sensation was overwhelming. The blunt, heavy thud of his pelvis against hers sent jolts of electricity through her core. She felt the slickness of her pussy coating his skin, the sound of their joining wet and loud in the stillness of the classroom.
"You are so tight," Harry gasped, his pace increasing just a fraction. "Draconia, your cunt is so tight."
"Don't stop," she breathed, her head tossing back. "Just... keep doing that."
He lunged forward, burying his cock to the hilt, and she felt a contraction ripple through her entire body. The pleasure was a sharp, bright thing, building in the center of her as he worked her. She felt the tension in her abdomen tightening, a coil of heat that she could not escape. She watched the way his muscles bunched in his arms as he held himself above her, his weight pressing her down into the desk. The wood was cool against her skin, but he was a furnace, a source of relentless, unyielding heat.
He withdrew again, the tip of his cock teasing the entrance of her pussy, and she reached down to guide him. She wanted to feel the full length of him, the way he could reach the very back of her. She pulled him back in, her legs tightening around his waist to pull him deeper. He groaned, a low, guttural sound, and began to move with more urgency. The rhythm was constant, a heavy, bruising sensation that left her breathless. He was fucking her with a singular purpose, his eyes never leaving hers.
"I can feel you," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I can feel you everywhere."
"I want to be inside you until the sun goes down," Harry said, his teeth grazing the lobe of her ear.
He pushed harder, his thrusts becoming more frantic as he approached his peak. The sound of his cock sliding into her wet, swollen pussy was a rhythmic, slapping noise that filled her ears. Draconia felt the climax building, a frantic, pulsing need that demanded release. She gripped the edge of the desk so hard her knuckles turned white. Her breath came in short, sharp gasps as she felt the first waves of her orgasm beginning to crash through her.
"It is coming," she told him, her voice a frantic command. "Harry, now."
He did not pull away; instead, he drove himself in one last time, pinning her to the desk. He let out a choked cry as he began to cum, the hot, thick jets of his semen pulsing deep inside her. She felt the warmth of his cum filling her, a heavy sensation that accompanied her own release. Her muscles clamped around his cock, milking the sensation from him as she shuddered under his weight. They stayed there for a moment, frozen in the act of completion, the sunlight still moving lazantly across the floor.
She took a breath, trying to steady her racing heart. She reached for the small hourglass she had brought with her, placing it on the desk beside her hip. She watched the sand trickle down, a silent witness to the time she had stolen.
"It has been twenty-two minutes since we started," she said, her voice regaining its composure. "Twenty-three."
"Are you actually going to time us?" Harry asked, a small, tired smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"Twenty-four," she replied, her eyes fixed on the glass. "Twenty-five."
"Draconia," he said, his voice a low plea as he leaned down to kiss her neck. "Please, just stop counting."