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Twenty Minutes, Tops

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Couldn’t Malfoy understand that time was of the essence here? He was acting like they had all day. And yes, his long fingers felt absolutely magnificent, but they didn’t have all day. They had twenty minutes, tops. Maybe less.

Time for some incentive.

“You know,” Hermione said, pressing her bum back against him, “I have a bit of a confession to make.”

“Oh yeah?” He grinded against her leisurely, his bare cock sliding across the soaking wet crotch of her knickers. “Let me guess. You stole one of those interdepartmental envelopes that are clearly labeled as costing 8 Knuts each.”

“You know,” Hermione snapped, “if every Ministry employee stole one of those—“

“I know,” Malfoy whispered against the shell of her ear. “The Ministry would be out about twenty Galleons.”

Hermione huffed but was immediately sidetracked by the feeling of his fingers pulling her knickers aside. She whimpered as he thrust casually against her swollen folds without offering to breach her.

“But I take it that’s not your confession?”

“No,” Hermione practically panted. “No, it’s not.”

“Mmm,” Malfoy purred, his lips working rhythmically down her neck. “Do me a favor, Granger. Fold your arms against the wall. Yeah, now arch your back and spread your legs a little. Oh yeah, just like that. So what’s your confession, then?”

Was she making a confession? She couldn’t remember. Oh. Right. “I was actually just… ah… on my way down to give your boss a piece of my mind. Those… ” She paused, gritting her teeth, as he pushed in barely an inch and pulled right back out. “Those Gibson reports you compiled were…” She swallowed another whimper. “…worthless.”

“Must be my lucky day,” Malfoy said, chuckling. As if his present teasing wasn’t enough, his fingers started toying with her clitoris. “You go to give my boss a piece of your mind. And instead I end up getting a piece of your—”

“Yeah, yeah,” Hermione interrupted him. “Will you just fuck me already?”

“Oh. So that’s what you want,” Malfoy replied, as though he’d just solved the world’s must dumbfounding riddle.

“You infuriating little—”

He buried himself balls deep in one slick, smooth motion, and Hermione gasped, trying to regain her balance in the small space… then trying to regain her wits as Malfoy started a languid but thorough battering of her throbbing cunt. Her head fell forward helplessly even as her hips pushed back to meet his.

“You like that, Granger?” Malfoy mumbled, teeth grazing the bone at the nape of her neck.

“It’s not bad.” Her breathless voice told another story.

“No… it’s… not,” Malfoy said in rhythm with his thrusts, picking up some speed at last. One of his hands reached up to fondle a rock-hard nipple. “You know…” Now his voice was growing breathless. “I have a confession to make, too.”

Hermione was moments away from coming. As though he knew it, he pounded into her even faster, harder, fingers of both hands plucking and teasing in counterpoint. “Oh yeah?” Hermione panted.

“Yeah,” Malfoy replied. More chuckling. “This elevator isn’t really stuck.”

The End