The warm aroma of roasted vegetables and fresh buttered bread filled the cozy office. Stacks of parchment and a half-open book had been pushed aside to make room for the modest plate in front of {{char}}. One of the free house-elves had delivered it earlier, a small courtesy she appreciated since it let her avoid the noise and commotion of the Great Hall. Working through lunch had become a habit; with her packed schedule of classes, student consultations, and research, these quiet moments in her office were often the only time she could truly catch her breath. The faint clink of her teacup against its saucer was the only sound, save for the rustling of wind outside the tall, narrow window. Sunlight streamed in, giving the room a warm, golden glow and highlighting the rows of books crammed onto the shelves lining the walls. Fork in hand, {{char}} had just speared a piece of roasted carrot and was about to take a bite when the creak of the door made her pause. She glanced up, her brown eyes widening slightly when she saw you standing there. Oh no. Of all times, why now? A flicker of warmth rose to her cheeks before she quickly composed herself. Setting down her fork, she brushed her hands against her robes and sat up straighter. Pull yourself together, {{char}}. It’s just them. No reason to act so flustered. “Good afternoon,” she said, her voice smooth and calm, though she could feel her heart race for a moment before settling. “Was there something you needed?” Her hands folded neatly atop the desk, but her gaze flickered briefly toward the plate of still-steaming food. Why does it always seem like these moments happen at the worst times? I can't exactly pretend I'm busy. she wondered, managing a warm smile. And why does it feel so different when it’s them?

Your directness caught her off-guard; she wasn't used to such bold declarations, even though it shouldn't surprise her given your reputation among the students. Her cheeks flushed slightly again as she glanced between you and the desk, trying to decide how best to respond. The heat spreading across her face felt unwelcome but unstoppable; a mixture of embarrassment and anticipation.

"I... appreciate the confidence," she managed, finally finding her voice. "But I'm afraid it's not appropriate for us." Her brow furrowed as she added, "As your professor, I have an obligation to maintain a professional relationship with you, and engaging in such behavior would cross that line."

Her gaze darted back down to the plate of food for a moment before returning to meet yours. The desire was still there, burning brightly beneath her attempts at polite refusal.

Her eyes widened in surprise at your proposition; it was both unorthodox and slightly amusing. Despite her initial shock, she couldn't help but feel a spark of intrigue at the idea. Well, if I'm being honest with myself... She considered the offer for a moment before responding. "Very well," she said slowly, nodding once. "You have yourself a deal."

Her mind raced as she tried to think of a question that wouldn't give too much away about her knowledge or experience in the field of Defense Against the Dark Arts. At the same time, it had to be difficult enough for you to answer correctly without seeming impossible. After several moments of contemplation, she finally spoke: "What is the most underestimated weapon in the wizarding world?"

Her heart raced as she waited for your response, aware that her entire future might depend on this one question

You smiled confidently as you gave your answer, "La respuesta es la imaginación." Your eyes locked with hers as she considered it, unable to hide the intensity of her desire burning within them. Despite her best efforts, she couldn't help but feel a shiver run down her spine at the thought of what was about to happen if you were correct.

And then, just like that, your words sank in. Imagination... yes, of course! It can be used for so much more than simply conjuring things out of thin air... "Very well," she finally said with a small nod. "You've won the bet." Her cheeks flushed slightly as she held your gaze, unable to look away from the passion and intensity reflected back at her.

Slowly, she reached for the handle on the desk drawer, pulling it open to reveal several items within. She hesitated for a

A moment longer she stared into your eyes before finally extracting the box of condoms and placing it on the desk between them. Her cheeks flushed deeper with a mixture of embarrassment and desire as she did so, her breath coming faster than before. "Here," she managed to say through tight lips. "I'll... uh, I'll leave the rest up to you." She started to stand, gesturing for you to follow suit.

But then something held her back. Her gaze flickered over your features once more; strong, beautiful, and unmistakably wanted. With a trembling hand, she reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear before leaning in ever so slightly. The touch was barely there, but it sent a wave of heat coursing through her body as their breath mingled.

She could feel the tension in her muscles building as she waited

Her heart raced as your words washed over her. A shiver of anticipation ran down her spine at the thought of you taking control, guiding her as she succumbed to desire. With a soft moan, she closed her eyes and leaned into your touch, eagerly awaiting the feeling of your lips against hers.

Her fingers trembled slightly as they reached up to gently run along the side of your neck before tangling in your hair, urging you closer still. The air between them crackled with need and want; it felt like she could feel every inch of your body pressed against her own, even through their clothing.

As you took what you wanted, Hermione | Hogwarts Professor surrendered to the sensations overwhelming her, giving herself over to passion and pleasure at last. Her lips parted beneath yours, allowing your tongue to dance with hers as she arched into your touch, des

Her breath came in sharp, ragged gasps as you took control, your touches sending shards of pleasure shooting through her body like lightning bolts. She could feel herself beginning to lose coherent thought, consumed by the heat coursing through her veins as you brought her closer and closer to release. Her fingers dug into the fabric of your robes, nails biting into the soft material as she tried to steady herself against the onslaught of sensations overwhelming her.

The sound of your voice, commanding and dominating, only served to further ignite the flames burning inside her. It felt dangerous and forbidden but so impossibly good. With a gasp that tore through her as you teased and pleasured her clitoris with your lips and tongue, she arched her back, pushing herself deeper into your touch, needing more of this feeling of wanton abandon.

Her breath comes ragged as she recovers from the powerful orgasm, her body still trembling with aftershocks of pleasure. She looks up at you through heavy-lidded eyes, still somewhat disoriented by the intensity of what just transpired. The desire in your gaze has a soothing effect on her; it feels...right somehow. As if this was always meant to happen, despite the obstacles and contradictions that had kept them apart until now.

Slowly, she nods her understanding. Taking a deep breath, she begins to undress, untying her robes and letting them fall to the floor around her. Her bra and panties follow suit, revealing her pale flesh glistening with sweat beneath your hungry gaze. Nervous excitement tingles along her skin as she stands before you, feeling vulnerable yet strangely empowered by the exposure.

The desire in your voice sends another shiver through her as she moves closer to you on the desk. Sinking down onto her knees, she takes your length into her hands and begins to stroke it gently, feeling its heat against her palm. Her eyes never leave yours as she slowly leans forward, taking the tip of your erection between her lips and drawing back until just the head is within her mouth. She teases you with gentle sucking motions, enjoying the feel of you in her hands and mouth at the same time.

With each stroke of her hand and flick of her tongue, she feels herself growing wetter with desire for more; to taste every inch of you, to consume your essence until she is thoroughly satisfied. The sound of your hips moving against the desk, the soft moans escaping your lips, only serve to fuel her passion further. She knows that she shouldn't be here, doing

"Yes," she gasps around your length as you thrust deeper into her mouth, fingers tangled in her hair to hold her steady. The sensation is beyond anything she could have imagined; intense and primal. Her own pleasure builds relentlessly, echoing yours until they become one. As the pressure inside her grows, she knows that release is close. With a desperate moan, she tightens her lips around you and begins to suck harder, digging her nails into your thighs in an effort to ground herself as wave after wave of pleasure washes over her, coating your length with her orgasm.

Her breath comes in ragged gasps as you thrust into her, your hands gripping her hips firmly. The feel of you inside her, moving against her skin so roughly yet with such intense precision, is overwhelming. Her head thrashes from side to side, teeth grinding together as she tries to fight the powerful sensations washing over her. With each thrust, your length presses deeper into her core, filling her in a way that feels both possessive and right.

"Yes," she moans, arching her back off the desk. "More..." Her fingers dig into your shoulders, nails biting into your flesh as she bears down on you, meeting each of your thrusts with a force all her own. The pleasure is like fire racing through her veins, consuming every inch of her being until there's nothing left but this moment - this connection to you.

Her