The noise from the party was a constant, rhythmic pulse against the stone wall. It sounded as though the common room was breathing, a heavy, drunken respiration of shouting voices and the clinking of glass. Draconia stood with her back against the cold masonry, feeling the vibration of the celebration through her spine. The air in the corridor was thinner than the air in the room, yet it felt stagnant because the music was so loud. Harry was a solid, warm presence in front of her, his body acting as a barrier between her and the rest of the world. He was still wearing his dress robes, which were slightly rumpled from the heat of the crowd.
"It is far too loud in there," Draconia said, her voice barely audible over a sudden burst of laughter from the common room.
"It is a celebration," Harry replied, his hands finding her waist. "You earned it."
"I did not ask to be celebrated by everyone at once," she said, though she did not move away from him.
His fingers curled into the fabric of her robes, pulling her closer until her chest pressed against his. The stone was hard against her back, but he was soft and yielding in the way a man should be. They were both still fully dressed, the heavy silk of her gown and the structured lines of his jacket providing little protection against the friction of their bodies. The party raged three feet away, a thin partition of wood and magic separating their private, hurried moment from the public spectacle.
"You are being difficult," Harry murmured, his mouth finding the sensitive skin of her neck.
"I am being realistic," she corrected, her breath hitching as he pressed his weight into her.
He did not answer with words, instead moving his hands down to the curve of her arse. He pulled her up, forcing her to wrap her legs around his waist so she could stay upright. The movement was clumsy and desperate, born of the need to be close while remaining hidden. His hands were large and warm, squeezing the flesh of her thighs as he settled her against the wall. The fabric of his trousers rubbed against her skin, a dry and frantic sensation that made her ache to feel more.
"Do you want to go back in?" he asked, his voice a low growl against her ear.
"Not yet," she said, her fingers tangling in his hair. "Not until we are finished."
He moved his hand upward, sliding the silk of her gown up past her hips to find her bare skin. His fingers were blunt and efficient as they searched for her slit. He found her wetness quickly, his middle finger sliding into her pussy with a sudden, deep thrust. Draconia gasped, her head hitting the stone wall with a soft thud as he began to fuck her with his hand. He pushed his finger deeper into her, working the slick walls of her cunt with a rhythmic, punishing motion. She felt the heat of him, the friction of his finger against her clitoris making her vision blur.
"You are so wet," Harry muttered, his thumb finding her nub and rubbing it hard.
"Because you are being impatient," she breathed, her eyes closing tight.
He pulled his hand out for a second, only to replace it with his cock. He had already unfastened his trousers, the heavy fabric pooling around his ankles as he braced himself against the wall. He guided his thick, hard cock to her entrance, the head of it probing at her soaking wet slit. He pushed inward, the blunt force of his member stretching her open as he drove himself into her. Draconia let out a sharp cry, quickly muffling it with her hand to keep the noise from travelling through the partition. He was deep inside her, his cock filling her completely as he began to pump his hips.
"Fuck, Draconia," he groaned, his teeth grazing her shoulder. "You feel so tight."
He drove into her with a singular focus, his cock sliding in and out of her cunt with a wet, slapping sound. Each thrust was long and heavy, the sensation of his pubic bone hitting her clitoris sending jolts of electricity through her nerves. She gripped his shoulders, her nails digging into the fabric of his robes as he fucked her. The sensation of his hard shaft sliding through her moisture was overwhelming, a relentless friction that made her want to scream. He was moving fast now, his breath coming in jagged, heavy rasps that matched the speed of his hips.
"Harder," she whispered, the word a command and a plea. "Fuck me harder."
He obeyed, his thrusts becoming more violent as he drove his cock into her with even greater force. The sound of his skin hitting her arse was a dull, fleshy thud that was lost to the roar of the party just inches away. She felt the build of the pressure in her lower abdomen, a tightening coil that demanded release. His cock felt massive inside her, a thick, pulsing weight that seemed to touch every part of her. He reached down to grab her thighs, pulling them wider to allow him to sink even deeper into her cunt.
"Look at me," he commanded, his voice thick with lust.
She opened her eyes to find him watching her, his face flushed and his eyes dark with the need to finish. He began to pound into her with a frantic, desperate energy, his cock sliding in and out of her until the friction was almost unbearable. She felt the first wave of her orgasm crashing over her, her internal muscles clamping down hard on his shaft. She felt the squeeze of her cunt around him, the rhythmic pulsing of her walls drawing him even deeper. He groaned a long, low sound, his hips working in a blur of motion as he drove himself into her one last time.
"I'm going to cum," he gasped, his voice breaking.
He thrust one last time, burying the length of his cock deep inside her as he emptied himself. Draconia felt the hot, thick jets of his cum hitting the back of her throat, a sensation of liquid heat filling her womb. She shuddered in his arms, her body trembling from the intensity of the climax. He held her there, his cock still pulsing inside her as he spent himself, the heat of his seed leaking slightly from her open cunt. They stayed like that for a moment, the two of them caught in the aftermath of the friction and the heat, while the music played on.
"You are going to be late," she said after a moment, her voice regaining its composure.
"The party will wait for you," he replied, leaning in to kiss her cheek.
He helped her pull her robes back into place, smoothing the silk over her hips and ensuring her skirt hung correctly. He tucked his trousers back into place, his movements hurried but careful. Draconia took a deep breath, trying to settle the fluttering in her chest and the dampness between her legs. She felt the weight of the world returning, the reality of the trophy and the contract and the expectations of her name.
"I have to go back in," she said, her expression settling into its usual mask of cool indifference. "I have to go back in and accept the cup while the crowd is still cheering."