Work Text:
‘Hell bells, Narcissa,’ Lucius groaned. ‘He's fine, but if it'll help you sleep, go and ask Snape.’ He waved an impatient hand towards the distant castle.
‘No! He's busy. I'll owl him!’
‘We're in Hogsmeade. By the time you queue in the Post Office and send it, you could already be there. And since I know you detest the pub, it'll give me a reason to spend an hour at the Hog's Head.' Narcissa screwed up her nose. 'See? A win-win for everyone—well, everyone except Snape. I’m sure I’ll receive an owl later, complaining about the unscheduled visit disrupting "important" work,’ Lucius rolled his eyes.
‘Remember, if he gives you any mouth, if he gets cocky, casually remind him I wield a lot of influence over who funds his potions lab,' he said, cupping her cheek and kissing her deeply; she leaned into the kiss with a soft moan. ‘Now, go!’
....
Narcissa raised her left hand, but seeing her wedding band, she lowered it, lifting her right hand instead to knock lightly on his door.
‘Enter.'
Snape looked up as she stepped in, closing the door behind her.
‘Narcissa,’ he elongated silkily, lowering his quill. ‘What a pleasant surprise. To what do I owe the pleasure?’
‘I wish to enquire about Draco.’
‘Of course. Where’s Lucius?’
‘He’s...in the Hog’s Head; he sent me—’
‘Really?’ He quirked an eyebrow.
She walked further into the room, stopping at his desk. She pivoted and looked around twice to be certain.
‘Your office chairs have gone.' She looked at him. 'Why?’
‘Because people keep sitting in them.’
She stared at him.
‘Well then, as there are no chairs for guests, I suppose I’ll have to sit elsewhere.’
Her fingertips brushed along the wood as she walked around his desk. Setting herself up on the edge, her skirt rode up as she sat directly over what he had been writing.
‘How about here?’ she asked, her voice sultry. She hooked one leg over her knee, letting her heel graze along his thigh.
He leaned back, looking up at her as a single eyebrow twitched upwards. For what seemed like an eternity, the two just stared at one another, locked in a silent standoff over who would break first. They both knew it would be her; he was an infuriatingly patient man.
She uncrossed her leg, resting the tip of her shoe on his armrest, an invitation.
He smirked triumphantly and stood, stepping between her thighs. He leaned in and pressed his lips to her porcelain skin; she craned her neck, giving him better access, her elegant fingers curling into his hair, as his hand slid up her silky stockings.
‘No knickers?’ he smirked against her skin as his fingers sought her core. ‘You naughty witch.’
He plunged two fingers deep inside her wet warmth.
She gasped, her eyes fluttering shut, arching into him—and then, he stopped.
He held her perfectly still. Only when a soft, desperate whimper escaped her lips and her hips circled did he finally move. It was a slow, deliberate slide in and out that had her fingers gripping his shoulders, her manicured fingernails biting through the heavy fabric of his robes.
His thumb found her pulsing clitoris; he pressed lightly and rotated as his fingers picked up the pace and her right leg began to shudder. She bit her bottom lip, desperately trying to withhold a moan.
He didn’t kiss her; instead, he watched her, forcing her to be completely exposed under his unblinking gaze as she unravelled.
‘Come on my hand, Narcissa,’ he whispered silkily. He shifted his angle so he caught her G-spot on each stroke, his thumb pressing firmer. She didn’t flinch when his little finger found her arsehole, circling the rim before dipping smoothly inside. Her head fell onto his shoulder.
‘Think of your husband sitting in the Hog’s Head,’ he purred against her ear, his thumb ruthlessly rotating. Her leg shook uncontrollably as her orgasm built. ‘Drinking his Firewhisky, completely ignorant of how his prim and proper lady loves her arse fingered.’ His fingers moved faster in and out of her pussy and hole. ‘You’re far from a proper lady right now, aren't you?’
‘Oh, god!’ she whined, and her fingernails dug painfully into his skin.
‘Narcissa...’ His hand stilled, and he hooked his fingers against her G-spot, rubbing in a "come here" motion, and his thumb frantically circled her swollen clit. ‘Come!’
A few seconds later, she shattered, releasing the moan she’d been suppressing. It rang out long and loudly, a scandalous sound. Her insides clenched around his fingers, and he worked her mercilessly through the orgasm until she was completely spent, panting as she collapsed forward against him.
‘Fuck,’ she breathed, hurriedly reaching for his trousers and pulling out his straining erection.
She stroked him a few times, her thumb sweeping over his leaking tip. He let out a low, guttural growl, his dark eyes darkening further.
Whispering a lubricating charm, he seized her hips, hoisted her slightly, and shoved deep into her in one sharp, unyielding thrust. Her breath caught at the sudden fullness, and he set a punishing pace. Every desperate drive rattled the heavy, solid desk, completely consuming her until he finally shuddered, spilling himself inside her.
She lay across his desk with her legs dangling over the edge, breathing heavily, and staring at the ceiling as his hot semen dribbled out of her, down her thigh and onto his desk.
Shortly after, she heard him drop heavily into his chair and whisper 'Tergeo', ridding her of his cum.
She moved from his desk, smoothed her clothes, adjusted her stockings, and checked for ladders. Returning to the impeccable, lady-like Mrs Malfoy, she circled his desk, instinctively looking for an office chair.
He twitched a smile. ‘Still gone, I’m afraid.’
He leaned forward onto his desk, straightened his papers and interlocked his fingers. ‘So, about Draco,’ he said, as though he hadn’t just fucked the boy’s mother moments before.