The stone of the corridor felt cool against her shoulder blades, a sharp contrast to the heat radiating from his body. Draconia kept her spine pressed against the masonry, her robes slightly rumpled from the suddenness of the movement. Harry stood so close that she could feel the warmth of his breath against her neck. He did not move to touch her with his hands yet, but his presence was a solid, heavy weight in the narrow space. She kept her wand held loosely between her index and middle fingers, turning it slowly to catch the dying light of the afternoon.
"You look far too smug for someone who was just cornered," Harry said. He was looking at her wand, watching the way her fingers moved the wood in that rhythmic, teasing circle.
Draconia tilted her head back, meeting his gaze with a smirk that felt brittle even to her. "Being cornered implies a lack of control, Harry. I am simply enjoying the view."
"You're doing it again," he muttered, stepping closer until his thighs brushed against the front of her skirt. "That little movement with the wand. You know exactly what it does to my focus."
"Does it?" she asked, her voice a silky lilt. She turned the wand again, the dark wood catching the light as she rotated it between her knuckles. "I hadn't noticed a thing. Perhaps you are just easily distracted."
He reached out then, his fingers wrapping around her wrist to stop the motion of the wand. His skin was hot, and the grip was firm. He did not pull her hand away, but he anchored her there. Draconia felt the breath hitch in her throat, though she forced herself to exhale slowly. She refused to let the silence settle between them, because she knew that if she stopped talking, the mask would slip.
"Stop pretending," he said. He used his free hand to trace the line of her jaw, his thumb pressing into the soft skin of her chin. "You want me to lose my temper. You want to see how much of a performance you can maintain before the cracks show."
"It is a very good performance, isn't it?" Draconia asked. She leaned into his touch, her eyes narrowing. "I think the audience is quite captivated."
Harry laughed, a low, rough sound that vibrated in his chest. He moved his hand from her jaw to the back of her neck, his fingers tanging in her hair. He pulled her head back slightly, exposing the long line of her throat. He leaned down, his lips hovering just above her ear. The scent of him was plain and masculine, devoid of the perfumes she was used to.
"You talk too much," he whispered.
"I talk because if I stop, you'll realize how much you're winning," she said, her voice a little higher than she intended.
He didn't wait for her to finish the thought. He pressed his mouth to hers, a hard, demanding kiss that tasted of iron and heat. Draconia felt the ache in her lower belly intensify as he pressed his pelvis against hers. She reached out with her free hand, her fingers clutching at the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer. She wanted to feel the friction of his body against hers, the solid reality of him.
Harry broke the kiss to trail his mouth down her neck, his teeth grazing her skin. He reached down and bunched the fabric of her skirt in his fists, pulling it up until her thighs were bare to the cool air of the corridor. He unbuttoned his trousers with a clumsy, hurried efficiency, his breath hitching in his throat. Draconia watched him, her eyes bright and defiant, even as her breath came in short, jagged gasps.
"You're so loud," he groaned, his voice thick. He reached into his trousers and pulled out his cock, the length of it pulsing and red in the dim light. He guided the head of his cock to the wet slit of her pussy, rubbing the tip against her clitoris.
"I am perfectly capable of being quiet," she lied, her fingers digging into his shoulders. "If you were actually capable of making me lose my breath."
He grinned, a wicked, hungry expression, and thrust forward. He drove his cock into her cunt in one long, deep stroke. Draconia gasped, her head hitting the stone wall behind her with a dull thud. The sensation was overwhelming, a blunt, heavy fullness that seemed to stretch her from the inside out. She felt the slickness of her own juices coating him as he began to fuck her, his hips hitting hers with a rhythmic, wet slapping sound.
"Is that enough?" he asked, his voice a low growl as he pulled back and drove himself into her again. "Is the performance over yet?"
"Not even close," she said, her teeth baring in a grin. He was fucking her hard, his cock hitting the sensitive walls of her cunt with a precision that made her vision blur. She felt the friction of his skin against her inner thighs as he moved, his cock sliding in and out of her soaking wet pussy. Every thrust felt like a bruise and a blessing at the same time.
He gripped her hips, his fingers bruising the skin as he lifted her slightly to take her weight. He fucked her with a frantic, driving pace, his cock working deep inside her. Draconia felt the pressure building, a tight, coiled tension in her pelvis. She kept talking, her voice a constant stream of teasing barbs and half-finished insults, because the moment she fell silent, she would have to admit that he was unravelling her.
"You're... you're hitting the spot," she choked out, her eyes lidded and heavy. "You're trying too hard, Harry. It's almost... almost endearing."
He didn't answer with words. He lunged forward, burying his cock as deep as it could go, his pelvis slamming against her pubic bone. He reached down and found her clitoris with his thumb, rubbing it hard as he continued to fuck her. The sensation was a lightning strike. Draconia felt her cunt walls clench around his cock, the muscles pulsing in a desperate, rhythmic contraction. She felt the heat of her orgasm rising, a swell of sensation that she could no longer control with clever words.
"Say it," he commanded, his voice strained as he felt her tightening around him. "Say you're losing it."
"I am... not... losing... anything," she gasped, though her hips were bucking wildly to meet his thrusts. The friction was intense, the wet sound of his cock sliding in and out of her pussy filling the quiet corridor. He began to fuck her even faster, his movements becoming jagged and desperate. He was fucking her with a raw, animalistic strength, his cock filling her so completely that she felt she might break.
He let out a low, guttight groan as he felt the climax approaching. He drove into her one last time, his cock hitting her cervix with a blunt force that sent her over the edge. Draconia felt the hot, thick spurt of his cum hitting the back of her cunt, the sensation of his semen filling her making her cry out. She felt her own orgasm crash through her, her pussy pulsing around his hard, leaking cock as she shook with the intensity of it.
She gripped his hair, her knuckles white, as she tried to find her voice through the haze of pleasure. She needed to say something, anything, to reclaim the upper hand. She held her wand tight, the wood a familiar weight in her hand, her back against the stone, the wand still between her fingers, and she talked the entire way through it because silence would be a confession.