Chapter Text
Harry Potter had never had trouble concentrating before. He'd focused through Voldemort's return, Umbridge's torture sessions, and countless life-threatening situations. But right now, sitting in the library across from Daphne Greengrass, he couldn't seem to string two coherent thoughts together.
It had been two days since the broom closet incident. Two days since she'd sucked him off in the middle of a corridor. Two days since she'd cum all over his cock while he'd played with her perfect tits. And two days since she'd walked away without her emerald green panties, which were currently hidden in Harry's bedside table like some sort of perverse trophy.
Focus, Potter, Harry told himself firmly, staring down at his Transfiguration textbook without actually reading a single word. You're here to study. Not to think about how she looked on her knees. Not to remember how tight her mouth felt around your cock. Definitely not to imagine what it would feel like to actually be inside her tight cunt!
But bloody hell, it was impossible not to think about it when she was sitting right there across the table from him.
Daphne looked absolutely stunning today, as always. Her platinum blonde hair fell in perfect waves over her shoulders, catching the light from the enchanted candles floating overhead. She was wearing her modified uniform, the shirt tailored to hug her curves, the top few buttons undone to reveal a tantalising glimpse of cleavage. Her skirt was its usual obscene length, barely covering the tops of her thighs as she sat with her legs crossed.
She was biting her lower lip as she read, a habit Harry had noticed she had when she was concentrating. It was distracting as hell, making him wonder what those lips would feel like pressed against his, what sounds she'd make if he kissed her properly instead of just having her mouth wrapped around his cock.
Stop it. Focus on the essay. You need to finish this bloody Transfiguration essay.
Harry forced his eyes back down to his parchment, reading the same sentence for what felt like the hundredth time. Something about the theoretical applications of human transfiguration and the ethical implications thereof. It was important. It was interesting, even. He should be able to focus on this.
But then Daphne shifted in her seat, uncrossing and recrossing her legs, and Harry's eyes were drawn to the movement like a magnet. The hem of her skirt rode up slightly, revealing more of those impossibly long thighs, and Harry felt his cock twitch in his trousers.
Merlin's saggy left bollock, get it together.
He tried to focus again, quill poised over his parchment, but then he caught it. A scent.
No. That can't be...
But Harry knew that scent. He'd smelled it in the broom closet when Daphne had been grinding on his cock. He'd tasted it on his fingers after he'd touched her dripping cunt. It was the scent of her pussy juice, and the realisation was driving him absolutely mad.
She's not. She can't be. Not here in the library. Not sitting right across from me with her legs spread like that.
Harry chanced a glance at her face, trying to convince himself that his imagination was playing tricks on him, that his desperate cock was conjuring phantom scents. But no. Her cheeks were flushed, actually flushed, a rosy bloom spreading down her neck. Her breathing was definitely faster, her chest rising and falling in a way that made her tits press against the fabric of her shirt. Her tongue kept darting out to wet her lips, and every time she bit down on that lower lip, Harry felt his pulse quicken.
Fuck. She's actually wet right now. She's sitting across from me with a soaking cunt and I can smell it.
Just then, Daphne looked up from her parchment, and her piercing blue eyes meeting his, and for a moment, something passed between them. Recognition? Challenge? Desire?
"Something wrong, Potter?" she asked, her voice perfectly innocent, but there was a knowing glint in her eyes that made Harry's cock throb with need.
"Nothing," Harry said quickly, looking back down at his textbook. "Just... thinking."
"Hmm," Daphne hummed, and Harry could hear the amusement in her voice. "Thinking about Transfiguration? Or thinking about something else?"
She's doing this on purpose. She knows exactly what effect she's having on me, and she's enjoying it.
Harry gritted his teeth, determined not to give her the satisfaction of knowing she was getting to him. "Transfiguration. Obviously. That's why we're here, isn't it?"
"Of course," Daphne said smoothly. She leaned forward slightly, ostensibly to look at something on her parchment, but the movement gave Harry a perfect view down her shirt. He could see the swell of her breasts, the hint of black lace, the shadow of her cleavage.
Don't look. Don't give her the satisfaction.
But he couldn't help himself. His eyes were drawn to her tits like a moth to a flame, drinking in every detail. The way they pressed together, creating that perfect valley of soft flesh. The way they rose and fell with each breath she took. The memory of how they'd felt in his hands, soft and warm and perfect.
"Potter," Daphne said, and Harry's eyes snapped back up to her face. She was smiling now, that infuriating, knowing smile that made him want to kiss her and choke her with his cock in equal measure. "You're staring."
"I'm not," Harry lied, his cheeks burning.
"You are," Daphne said, leaning back in her chair and stretching her arms above her head. The movement made her back arch, pushing her breasts out, and Harry watched as the fabric of her shirt stretched taut across them. "But I suppose I can't blame you. They are rather spectacular."
Merlin, she's shameless.
Harry tried to focus on his essay again, but it was absolutely hopeless. The scent of her arousal was stronger now, filling his nostrils with each breath, making his cock throb insistently in his trousers. He shifted in his seat uncomfortably, trying to find a position that would ease the ache, but it was no use.
Every movement Daphne made was designed to torment him. The way her hair fell over her shoulder. The way her fingers toyed with her quill. The way she bit that bloody lower lip again and again. Harry's imagination was running wild, conjuring images of bending her over this very table, hiking up that sinful skirt, and finally, finally getting to bury his cock in her tight cunt.
This is torture. Absolute bloody torture.
"Potter," Daphne said suddenly, and Harry looked up to find her standing beside the table. When had she moved? He'd been so lost in his own thoughts that he hadn't even noticed her getting up. "Can I borrow your textbook? I just need to check on something. I forgot mine in my dormitory."
"Uh," Harry said eloquently, his brain struggling to process the request. "Yeah, sure."
He gestured to the heavy Transfiguration textbook and was about to slide it over when Daphne was already moving. She came around to where he was sitting, her hips swaying with each step.
Oh no.
Harry had to scoot his chair back as Daphne stepped between him and the table. She was so close he could feel the heat radiating off her body, could smell her perfume mixed with that intoxicating scent of arousal.
"Thanks," Daphne said sweetly, and then she bent over to reach for the textbook.
Harry watched, transfixed, as she leaned forward. Her skirt, already criminally short, began to ride up with the movement. Higher and higher, revealing more of those perfect thighs, and then...
Bloody fucking hell.
Harry's entire world narrowed to the sight before him. Daphne wasn't wearing any panties. Not a stitch of fabric between her legs. As she bent further to flip through the pages, her skirt rode up completely, and Harry was treated to the most obscene, most perfect view he'd ever witnessed.
Her pussy was on full display, bare and glistening wet, the pink lips swollen and parted. He could see everything: the way her arousal had coated her inner thighs, the way her entrance was already slightly open, beckoning. A bead of moisture was forming at her slit, gathering slowly before it would inevitably drip down her leg.
She's dripping. She's absolutely dripping wet, and she's bent over right in front of me like this is perfectly normal.
Harry's cock went from uncomfortable to absolutely painful in an instant, straining against his trousers with desperate need. His hands gripped the arms of his chair so hard his knuckles turned white, the only thing keeping him from reaching out and touching what was being so blatantly offered.
"Potter," Daphne said, her voice slightly breathless, "which page did Professor McGonagall say we should reference for the essay?"
Harry couldn't speak. Couldn't think. All the blood that should have been in his brain had migrated south, leaving him utterly at the mercy of his most primal instincts. His eyes were glued to her cunt, watching as another drop of arousal formed and began its slow journey down her inner thigh.
"Potter?" Daphne prompted again, shifting her weight slightly. The movement made her arse jiggle, made her pussy lips part even more, and Harry heard himself make a strangled sound in the back of his throat.
Something in him snapped.
Years of rivalry. Years of competition. Years of her always having the upper hand, always being one step ahead, always so bloody perfect and untouchable. And now here she was, bent over in front of him with her dripping cunt on display, still playing her games, still trying to maintain control.
No. Not anymore.
Harry stood up so fast his chair scraped loudly against the floor. His hands found Daphne's hips, gripping them tightly enough to bruise, and he pulled her back against him. She gasped, dropping the textbook with a thud as she felt his rock-hard cock pressing against her arse through his trousers.
"Potter, what are you—" she started, but Harry cut her off.
"Shut up," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "Just shut up, Greengrass."
His hands moved of their own accord, one sliding around to grip her throat gently, tilting her head back against his shoulder, while the other hiked her skirt up around her waist. The position forced her to arch her back, pressing her arse against his crotch.
"You've been teasing me," Harry said against her ear, his fingers trailing down her stomach toward her bare cunt. "Sitting across from me with your legs spread. Getting wet. Making me smell how turned on you are. Bending over like this with no panties on. Did you think I wouldn't notice? Did you think I'd just sit there like a good boy while you played your games?"
"I wasn't—" Daphne gasped, but then Harry's fingers found her clit, circling the swollen nub with deliberate pressure, and whatever protest she'd been about to make dissolved into a moan.
"You weren't what?" Harry demanded, his fingers moving from her clit to her entrance, gathering her arousal on his fingertips. "Weren't dripping wet? Weren't hoping I'd snap? Weren't desperate for me to bend you over and fuck you like the needy little slut you are?"
"Don't call me—ah!" Daphne's protest cut off as Harry plunged two fingers inside her, finding her tight heat.
"So fucking wet," Harry marvelled, his fingers pumping in and out of her soaking cunt. "So desperate. Were you thinking about my cock while you were sitting there pretending to study? Thinking about how it felt between your thighs? How it tasted in your mouth?"
"No," Daphne gasped, but her hips were bucking back against his hand, chasing his fingers. "I wasn't... I don't..."
"Liar," Harry said, pulling his fingers out and bringing them to her mouth. "Taste yourself. Taste how much you want me!"
He pressed his fingers against her lips, and after a moment of hesitation, Daphne parted them, allowing him to slide his fingers into her mouth. He felt her tongue swirl around them, tasting her own arousal, and the sight made his cock throb painfully.
"Good girl," Harry murmured, withdrawing his fingers from her mouth and returning them to her pussy. He added a third finger this time, stretching her further. "Now tell me what you want."
"I don't want anything," Daphne managed, but her voice was trembling, her body betraying her words as she ground back against his hand.
"Still playing games?" Harry asked, his fingers curling inside her to hit a spot that made her whole body shudder. "Fine. Let's see how long you can keep up the act."
He withdrew his fingers completely, ignoring her whimper of protest, and quickly worked at his belt and trousers. His cock sprang free, thick and hard and already leaking pre-cum, and he positioned himself at her entrance.
The head of his cock kissed her wet folds, and they both groaned at the contact. Harry could feel the heat radiating from her core, could feel how wet she was, how ready. One thrust and he'd be inside her, finally inside her after all this time.
"Last chance, Greengrass," Harry said, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. "Tell me you want this. Tell me you want my cock."
"I don't—" Daphne started, but Harry was already pushing forward, just the tip breaching her entrance, and her words dissolved into a long, desperate moan.
Bloody hell. She's so tight.
The head of his cock was stretching her, forcing her tight walls to accommodate his girth, and Harry had to grit his teeth to keep from slamming all the way in. He wanted to savour this, wanted to feel every inch as he claimed her.
"Potter," Daphne gasped, her hands scrabbling for purchase on the table in front of her. "You're too big. I can't... it won't..."
"It will," Harry assured her, pushing in another inch. Her walls clenched around him, so tight it was almost painful, but the sensation was incredible. "Your slutty little cunt will take every inch of my cock, Greengrass. Because that's what you want, isn't it? That's what you've been desperate for."
"No," Daphne whimpered, but her hips were tilting back, trying to take more of him despite her words. "I don't... oh fuck..."
Harry pulled back slightly, then pushed forward again, gaining another inch. Then another. Slowly, inch by torturous inch, he worked his way inside her. Her walls stretched around him, gripping him like a vice, rippling with each movement. The sensation was overwhelming, better than anything he'd imagined.
"Merlin, you're tight," Harry groaned, his hands gripping her hips hard enough to leave marks. "So bloody tight. Have you never been fucked properly before, Greengrass? Is that why you're clenching around me like this?"
"Shut up," Daphne gasped, but there was no real heat in her words. She was trembling, her whole body shaking as he continued to push deeper. "Just... please..."
"Please what?" Harry asked, pausing with only half his cock inside her. "Use your words, Greengrass. Tell me what you want."
"I don't... I won't..." Daphne's pride was clearly warring with her desire, her body desperate for more while her mind refused to surrender.
"Stubborn," Harry said with a dark chuckle. He pulled back slightly, and Daphne made a sound of protest. "If you won't ask nicely, maybe I should just stop here."
"Don't you dare!" Daphne gasped, her hips pushing back frantically, trying to impale herself on his cock. "Don't you dare stop, Potter!"
"Then tell me," Harry demanded, holding her hips still with an iron grip. "Tell me what you want. Beg for it."
Daphne was silent for a moment, breathing hard, and Harry could practically see the internal battle happening in her head. Her pride versus her need. Her competitive nature versus her desperate arousal.
Finally, her need won.
"I want it," she whispered, so quietly Harry almost didn't hear her. "I want your cock."
"Louder," Harry ordered, pulling back another inch. "I couldn't quite hear you over all that Slytherin pride."
"I want your cock!" Daphne said, louder this time, her voice breaking slightly. "Please, Potter. I want... I need..."
"Need what?" Harry prompted, pushing forward again, giving her a bit more.
"I need you to fuck me," Daphne finally admitted, her voice desperate and pleading. "Please. I need your fat cock inside me. I need you to fuck me hard. I need it so badly it's driving me mad!"
Finally.
Harry didn't make her wait any longer. He pulled back and then slammed forward, burying himself to the hilt in one brutal thrust. Daphne cried out, her back arching, her cunt clenching around him as he filled her completely.
"Oh fuck!" Daphne gasped, her voice echoing through the library. "Oh fuck, you're so deep! You're so fucking deep inside me!"
Harry groaned at the sensation. She was so tight, so hot, so perfect. Her walls were gripping him like they never wanted to let go, rippling around his length. He could feel her pulse, could feel every twitch and clench. It was almost too much, the sensation threatening to push him over the edge already.
No. Not yet. Not until she's completely lost control.
He held still for a moment, letting her adjust to his size, feeling the way her body trembled around him. Then, slowly, he pulled back until just the tip remained inside her before slamming forward again.
"Fuck!" Daphne cried out, her hands scrambling against the table as he began to thrust properly. Each drive of his hips was hard and deep, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in, making her whole body jolt forward.
"This is what you wanted," Harry growled, one hand tangling in her hair, pulling her head back so he could speak directly into her ear. "This is what you've been desperate for. My cock stretching your tight little cunt. Fucking you so hard you can't think straight."
"Yes," Daphne gasped, all pretence of denial gone now. "Yes, oh fuck yes!"
Harry's other hand came down on her arse with a sharp crack, and Daphne yelped at the sudden sting. He watched, fascinated, as a red handprint bloomed on her pale skin.
"You like that?" Harry asked, spanking her again. "You like being spanked while I fuck you?"
"Yes!" Daphne moaned, pushing her arse back to meet his thrusts. "Yes, harder! Fuck me harder!"
Harry obliged, increasing his pace, his hips slamming against her arse with each thrust. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the library, mixing with Daphne's increasingly desperate moans and his own grunts of pleasure.
"Look at you," Harry said, his voice rough with desire. "The Ice Queen of Slytherin. The perfect, untouchable Daphne Greengrass. Bent over a table in the library, begging for my cock like a common whore."
"Shut up," Daphne gasped, but there was no real protest in her voice. If anything, his words seemed to turn her on even more, her walls clenching around him.
"You love it," Harry continued, spanking her again. "You love being treated like this. You love having your bratty attitude fucked out of you."
"I don't... oh fuck... I don't love anything about you!" Daphne tried to protest, but it came out more like a moan.
Harry laughed darkly, his fingers finding her clit and rubbing it in firm circles. "Your body says otherwise, Greengrass. You're dripping all over my cock. Your cunt is clenching around me like it never wants to let go. You're about to cum, aren't you?"
"No," Daphne lied, but her whole body was trembling, her moans becoming higher pitched and more desperate.
"Liar," Harry said, rubbing her clit harder while his cock continued to pound into her. "You're right on the edge. I can feel it. One more thrust and you're going to fall apart."
"I'm not... I won't..." Daphne gasped, but her protests were weak, her body betraying her completely.
Harry leaned forward, pressing his chest against her back, and whispered in her ear. "Cum for me, Daphne. Let go. Let everyone in this library hear what a desperate, cock-hungry slut you are."
That did it. Daphne's whole body went rigid, and then she was screaming.
"POTTER! OH FUCK, POTTER! I'M CUMMING!"
Her cunt clamped down on his cock like a vice, pulsing and spasming around him as her orgasm crashed over her. Harry felt a flood of arousal coat his cock, felt her whole body shaking with the force of her climax.
"That's it," Harry encouraged, still thrusting through her orgasm, drawing it out. "That's it. Cum all over my cock. Show me how much you love being fucked like this!"
"YES! YES! OH MERLIN, YES!" Daphne was beyond words now, just screaming her pleasure for the entire library to hear as wave after wave of ecstasy rolled through her.
Harry could feel his own orgasm building, his balls tightening, his cock throbbing with the need for release. The sight of Daphne completely falling apart beneath him, the feel of her tight cunt milking his cock, the sound of her desperate screams, it was all too much.
"Daphne," Harry groaned, his thrusts becoming erratic. "I'm going to cum. I'm going to fill your slutty cunt with my seed!"
"Yes!" Daphne gasped, still riding the waves of her orgasm. "Yes, do it! Fill me! Please, Potter, I need it! I need your cum inside me!"
Hearing her beg pushed Harry over the edge. With one final, brutal thrust, he buried himself as deep as possible and came. His cock pulsed as thick ropes of cum shot directly into her womb, filling her completely. The sensation was incredible, overwhelming, and he found himself groaning her name as he emptied himself inside her.
"Fuck, Daphne. Take it! Take all of it!"
"So much," Daphne whimpered, her body still trembling. "There's so much of it. I can feel it filling me up!"
Harry thrust a few more times, making sure every last drop was buried deep inside her, before finally stilling. They stayed like that for a moment, both panting, both trembling, his cock still buried in her cunt.
Slowly, Harry pulled out. He watched, fascinated, as his cum began to leak out of her well-fucked pussy, dripping down her thighs in thick white streams.
Daphne remained bent over the table, her legs shaking too much to support her properly. Her breathing was ragged, her face flushed, her hair a complete mess. She looked thoroughly debauched, completely different from the composed, perfect Slytherin princess she normally presented.
And then, as the post-orgasmic haze began to clear, Harry watched realisation dawn on her face. Her eyes widened, and a blush spread across her cheeks that had nothing to do with arousal and everything to do with embarrassment.
"I..." she started, her voice hoarse from screaming. "That wasn't... I didn't mean to..."
Harry couldn't help the triumphant grin that spread across his face. "Didn't mean to what? Beg for my cock? Scream my name while you came? Tell me to fill your slutty cunt with my seed?"
Daphne's blush deepened, spreading down her neck. She finally managed to stand up properly, though her legs were still shaking, and she hurriedly pulled her skirt back down. But there was no hiding what had just happened. His cum was still dripping down her thighs, her hair was a mess, her lips were swollen, and she had the look of someone who'd just been thoroughly, completely fucked.
"I have to go," Daphne said suddenly, her voice high and strained. She grabbed her bag, not bothering to collect her scattered parchments, and practically ran toward the library exit, his seed visibly running down her legs.
Harry watched her go, still grinning like a madman. After years of rivalry, years of her always maintaining the upper hand, he'd finally made Daphne Greengrass lose complete control.
[Chapter 4 - Coming up!]: When footsteps interrupt their hallway fuck, Harry carries Daphne through the corridors while still balls-deep inside her, bouncing the screaming Slytherin into a cum-drunk mess!
Chapters 4, 5 and 6 have already been written
See the link in my profile for more of my work / early access