Proving a Point
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
1
Views:
8,486
Reviews:
6
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
1
Views:
8,486
Reviews:
6
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Proving a Point
The feather is soft against her bare skin as it’s brushed over the curve of her breast. Hermione moans when it teases her nipple and glares at the smug redhead tormenting her. Magic binds her wrists to each arm of the chair and her ankles are also secured, just because he knows very well she’d be kicking him in an attempt to get free. His tie is askew and the top buttons of his pristine white shirt are undone, which gives him a rakishly sexy look that is far too distracting. She’s trying to be angry and glare, but all she can do is lick her lips and want more.
“Now, really, Hermione. You’ve no one to blame but yourself,” he tells her primly all the while he’s dragging the quill over her breast.
Her skirt is up around her thighs, her shirt is hanging open and her bra is gathered beneath her breasts where he pushed it. The office is, thankfully, empty this late at night, but there are night watchmen who patrol every floor of the Ministry and have a bad habit of showing up at the most inopportune moments. She keeps glancing at the open door and back at Percy, shocked that he’s taking such a risk and more aroused at the possibility of being caught that she cares to admit.
It’s obvious that Percy is aroused, too, even if he annoyingly manages to sound indifferent to the fact that she’s half naked and tied to his desk chair. The rather large erection pressing against the front of his trousers is proof enough as is the faint flush on his cheeks. Something cold and hard rubs against her nipple, which makes her gasp and look down in surprise. She bites her lip when she sees her fountain pen in his hand. While the feather strokes and teases, the handle of the pen is rough and scrapes her sensitive nipple. She shifts in the chair and whimpers when he presses it harder against her.
“Do you have any idea how desirable you look?” he murmurs as he alternates the quill and pen, teasing her breasts until her knickers are soaked and she’s about ready to scream. He slides off the edge of the desk and moves to his knees. Her eyes roll back and she arches off the chair when he rubs her through the damp cloth. He smirks up at her knowingly and she wants to curse him or threaten him, but it’s no use. The git knows exactly what turns her on and isn’t above preying on her weakness to prove a point.
“Raise up,” he demands in a quietly authoritative voice that never fails to make her tremble. There are times she wishes that he never learned her desire to be dominated, to give someone else control, but that’s mostly because she hates how he teases her until she begs. Her friends would be shocked if they knew bossy domineering Hermione loves to surrender to Percy, which is one reason it’s their secret. It’s not always, after all, and they both need it. She lifts her hips and he pulls her knickers down until they gather at her ankles, the material stretching so far that she’s certain it will rip before this ends.
He leans forward and smells her, staring up at her while he inhales the heady scent of her arousal. She whimpers and pulls at her bindings, which earns her a sharp slap on the thigh. He moves the quill against her first, soft and gentle as it teases her wet lips, then the fountain pen, hard and firm as it presses up inside her slightly.
“Do you like that, Hermione?” he asks huskily. He moves the pen further inside her then brushes the quill over her clit. “Which do you prefer now? Your pen or my quill? Tell me which one.”
“Both,” she moans softly, pressing down as much as she can while sitting in his chair. She tries to roll her hips but the angle is just wrong.
“Such a wanton little girl,” he accuses before he slaps her thigh again. “You can’t have both, love. You have to choose. Which will it be?”
The feather teases her before he turns it over and gently scrapes the tip over her clit. She gasps and tightens around the fountain pen, which just doesn’t fill her the way she needs. She wants him inside her, doesn’t care if the entire building comes to stand in the door and watch if he’d just untie her and fuck her. He’s not playing fair, of course, but she knows better than to expect that from him in games like this. “The quill,” she hisses finally, seeing the flash of triumphant on his face before he removes her pen from her. He sucks it into her mouth, curling his tongue around it deliberately before he sucks it clean.
“You taste so good,” he murmurs before he raises up on his knees and unzips his trousers. She looks down and sees his erection throbbing in his hand, the tip swollen and wet. He murmurs the incantation to release her bindings and pulls her down suddenly into his lap. The chair rolls behind her and she falls against him. His cock slides against her and they both fumble between them until she’s able to straddle him and thrust down. He grips her hips tightly and urges her to move faster, then pushes her back against the floor and takes control.
It doesn’t take long before she’s writhing and whining his name against his freckled shoulder as she comes. He moves deeper and faster, grinding against her and bruising her as he holds her tight. He grunts softly against her neck before he shudders and spills inside of her. They’re both panting and half dressed, which she has to admit is also quite a turn on. When he kisses her, she melts into him, giving and taking and holding him close.
After he pulls out of her and tidies them both up with a few cleaning charms, he sits beside her and plays with her hair. He smirks and is far too smug for her liking, which makes her vow to get revenge in some way for this unexpected, though entirely enjoyable, lesson. He traces her lips with his thumb and ensures her future retribution when he pompously says, “I told you that a quill is much better than those blasted Muggle pens of yours.”
End
“Now, really, Hermione. You’ve no one to blame but yourself,” he tells her primly all the while he’s dragging the quill over her breast.
Her skirt is up around her thighs, her shirt is hanging open and her bra is gathered beneath her breasts where he pushed it. The office is, thankfully, empty this late at night, but there are night watchmen who patrol every floor of the Ministry and have a bad habit of showing up at the most inopportune moments. She keeps glancing at the open door and back at Percy, shocked that he’s taking such a risk and more aroused at the possibility of being caught that she cares to admit.
It’s obvious that Percy is aroused, too, even if he annoyingly manages to sound indifferent to the fact that she’s half naked and tied to his desk chair. The rather large erection pressing against the front of his trousers is proof enough as is the faint flush on his cheeks. Something cold and hard rubs against her nipple, which makes her gasp and look down in surprise. She bites her lip when she sees her fountain pen in his hand. While the feather strokes and teases, the handle of the pen is rough and scrapes her sensitive nipple. She shifts in the chair and whimpers when he presses it harder against her.
“Do you have any idea how desirable you look?” he murmurs as he alternates the quill and pen, teasing her breasts until her knickers are soaked and she’s about ready to scream. He slides off the edge of the desk and moves to his knees. Her eyes roll back and she arches off the chair when he rubs her through the damp cloth. He smirks up at her knowingly and she wants to curse him or threaten him, but it’s no use. The git knows exactly what turns her on and isn’t above preying on her weakness to prove a point.
“Raise up,” he demands in a quietly authoritative voice that never fails to make her tremble. There are times she wishes that he never learned her desire to be dominated, to give someone else control, but that’s mostly because she hates how he teases her until she begs. Her friends would be shocked if they knew bossy domineering Hermione loves to surrender to Percy, which is one reason it’s their secret. It’s not always, after all, and they both need it. She lifts her hips and he pulls her knickers down until they gather at her ankles, the material stretching so far that she’s certain it will rip before this ends.
He leans forward and smells her, staring up at her while he inhales the heady scent of her arousal. She whimpers and pulls at her bindings, which earns her a sharp slap on the thigh. He moves the quill against her first, soft and gentle as it teases her wet lips, then the fountain pen, hard and firm as it presses up inside her slightly.
“Do you like that, Hermione?” he asks huskily. He moves the pen further inside her then brushes the quill over her clit. “Which do you prefer now? Your pen or my quill? Tell me which one.”
“Both,” she moans softly, pressing down as much as she can while sitting in his chair. She tries to roll her hips but the angle is just wrong.
“Such a wanton little girl,” he accuses before he slaps her thigh again. “You can’t have both, love. You have to choose. Which will it be?”
The feather teases her before he turns it over and gently scrapes the tip over her clit. She gasps and tightens around the fountain pen, which just doesn’t fill her the way she needs. She wants him inside her, doesn’t care if the entire building comes to stand in the door and watch if he’d just untie her and fuck her. He’s not playing fair, of course, but she knows better than to expect that from him in games like this. “The quill,” she hisses finally, seeing the flash of triumphant on his face before he removes her pen from her. He sucks it into her mouth, curling his tongue around it deliberately before he sucks it clean.
“You taste so good,” he murmurs before he raises up on his knees and unzips his trousers. She looks down and sees his erection throbbing in his hand, the tip swollen and wet. He murmurs the incantation to release her bindings and pulls her down suddenly into his lap. The chair rolls behind her and she falls against him. His cock slides against her and they both fumble between them until she’s able to straddle him and thrust down. He grips her hips tightly and urges her to move faster, then pushes her back against the floor and takes control.
It doesn’t take long before she’s writhing and whining his name against his freckled shoulder as she comes. He moves deeper and faster, grinding against her and bruising her as he holds her tight. He grunts softly against her neck before he shudders and spills inside of her. They’re both panting and half dressed, which she has to admit is also quite a turn on. When he kisses her, she melts into him, giving and taking and holding him close.
After he pulls out of her and tidies them both up with a few cleaning charms, he sits beside her and plays with her hair. He smirks and is far too smug for her liking, which makes her vow to get revenge in some way for this unexpected, though entirely enjoyable, lesson. He traces her lips with his thumb and ensures her future retribution when he pompously says, “I told you that a quill is much better than those blasted Muggle pens of yours.”
End