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"The rumor that this school was founded by witches isn't true by any stretch, but back in the day the pursuit of knowledge was seen half the time a pursuit against God, and with that perceived slight often came hostility," Tom explained as he raised his hand to the ancient stone castle wall in his office. He pressed in a nondescript cobble in, and with a quiet rumble, the wall swung open on hidden hinges, revealing a narrow passageway. Hermione stepped forward, peering in the almost pitch black path curiously.
Tom put a hand on her shoulder and guided her forward. She glanced back as the hidden doorway closed, eliminating all light. He was unbothered with the darkness, even though it made her hands clench at her hips in reflex.
“Do you have a torch?” She asked.
“I don't need one,” he answered evenly, closer than she thought. Hermione hadn't heard him step any closer. “Does the dark make you nervous, Hermione?”
“No,” she answered truthfully, “I just don't want to trip.”
“I’ll guide you,” he said, voice warm with some kind of amusement. She felt his hand brush against her curls ever so delicately, sending a shiver down her spine, before his hand settled at the base of her neck. He squeezed her there, featherlight, and then let his hand slide further until he was gently cupping her elbow.
The walked in hushed quiet for only a few steps before he continued his lesson. “For a thousand years, anything between villagers with pitchforks, to inquisitors, to kings and priests alike have all come here, and if they chose condemnation, then children would die and books would burn. The school has largely remained safe but official records say it has been seized and sacked twice.”
“That's horrible,” Hermione murmured.
Tom gave a concomital hum. "Yes, and to avoid such tragedy, there are all sorts of hidden places in this castle where the teachers could hide themselves, the students or things of value."
"Is this your room for hidden things?"
"Yes,"
"You're going to hide me in here?"
"No,"
"but this is where we can hide what we want from each other…" "from everyone else."
"And what do you want?"
"At first, I thought I just needed you out of my system," "but now, I know that isn't the case. You've dug in too entirely. You're in my flesh, in my marrow." "I want everything."
"Tom?"
"I want all of you." "I tried to hold myself back, I tried to keep you at a distance, but you dug your heels in and refused to be anything other than my first priority from the moment you saw who I really was in that alley. You saw it, you've learned me. The real me. The ugly, broken, evil all of it--and you refused to run away, refused to give up, refused to listen to reason."
Hermione liked her lips at his words, a lascivious wave of anticipation running down her spine. It was thrilling. Everything she'd wanted to hear from him for weeks.
"So now you've gotten your prize, haven't you?” He crooned, “And there's no backing out, now, Darling. We're in this, because of you. You want it, and the consequences..." "Well, they can just be damned, can't they? We already are."
Hermione nodded.
"Say it," he snarled softly into her ear, his nose between the curls of her hair. His body was so solid behind her, and his arms were strong, one belted across her belly and the other reaching down, between her legs.
He didn't tease her, as she thought he might. She didn't need it, and they were both too impatient.
Instead, he fisted her soaked knickers and pulled them halfway down her thighs. He clawed his fingers back up her leg, rucking up her skirt. She felt his head lean forward over her shoulder, until his eyes were at the same level as her own, and she could see him looking at her in her peripheral. Could see the ravenous hunger in their inky depths.
And then suddenly, they were looking at her, and it was like she had been bewitched. Hypnotized and unable to look away from his dark, heated stare as she felt his fingers slide over her center.
Her entire body shivered violently at the touch. It wasn't light, it wasn't gentle or nervous or patient--it was sure, and agile, and between the span of a heart beat his thumb had found her clit, and his fingers were spreading her wide open.
She could feel the cold air touch her core, and it was a shocking juxtaposition against the absolute fire of his touch–
"A-all of me," she breathed, voice hitching, "yours."
Her nipples tightened sharply and the hand arm that was caging her against him loosened, and his hand slid up to caress her hips, her belly. It gathered up her skirt and pulled them more firmly to the side, exposing more of her while his other hand teased her. His thumb glanced over her slickened clit in lazy strokes, while his fingers slid up and down her cunt, feeling out every inch of her, smearing all of her natural lubrication until she was sodden and dripping with it.
Hermione's own hands lifted, trembling as her fingers found the first buttons of her blouse. Tom's attention sank down to watch her work, to watch as she exposed inch after inch of her chest to him. She pulled it roughly from her skirt and had to restrain herself from ripping the last buttons, but she'd been this patient, and could spare a bit more. Besides, if the stone in his trousers that was stabbing her in the back was any indication, he quite enjoyed the show. The hand that had tucked her skirt slid up again. His fingers trailed her belly--making her navel twitch with a tickle as he grazed it, and then up and up, to the line of her ribcage.
Hermione's arms lifted and bent, and her fingers slid in the miniscule place between them, and as she unclasped her bra, Tom leaned away from her just enough to give her room to shoulder off the sleeves and straps, to shimmy out of them, and bear herself to him entirely.
"Exquisite," he murmured, looking down on her from his vantage point behind her shoulder. And then his hand slid up to cup her left breast, squeezing it just past gently, pinching her nipple and rolling it between his fingers. He tugged on it, and Hermione arched her back, pressing herself more firmly into both of his hands.
"Do you like that, Hermione?" He asked her softly, sliding his hand over to her right breast and starting his tortures anew. "Do you like the way I touch you?"
"Yes," she sighed.
"Do you want me to be gentler? Rougher?" He asked her.
Hermione's eyebrows furrowed. "What?"
"What do you like?"
"I would like," she started, and flit her eyes to meet his again, and when she found them, she swirled her hips on his hand, grinding harder into his thumb, "for you to touch me the way you want to touch me."
"And what if it hurts?" He asked her, nosing the curls behind her ear again. His breath tickled the skin there, made her shoulders and arms erupt into gooseflesh. "What if the way I want to touch you hurts?"
"Then it hurts," she whispered, and swirled her hips again, "I never expected you to be even this gentle to begin with."
He seemed to pause at her words, as though he were considering them. Turning them over and over in his mind.
"It's not that complicated," she said, and reached an arm up to card fingers through his dark waves. "It's not about how I want you to touch me. I just want you to touch me. I just want you--" Tom pressed his thumb firmly against her clit and began to draw firm, tight circles on it, "I--I just want--"
"Tell me, Hermione," he said, sliding his lips to her throat and licking down the column of it. When he met the muscle of where it started to become her shoulder, he opened his mouth. White teeth reflected bright and sharp in the low light, and in that moment, Hermione saw him for the predator he was--a vicious thing, entirely set to devour her with fangs and claws--and she reveled in it.
He bit her.
Her eyes widened and her mouth hinged open from the sudden feeling of it. At the sensation of arousal bolting straight through her body. Tom dragged his teeth against her skin, just enough to make her gasp, and then his tongue was laving against her reddened skin, soothing it as much as he hurt it. Her core clenched hard around nothing, and she knew he felt it, with the way his fingers were teasing her entrance.
"Do you like pain?"
Hermione nodded jerkily. "I think so," she said, and swallowed. "I think I do, when it's you."
He hummed again, and nipped sharp pinches into her skin. She hissed, and angled her neck to give him more room. His thumb was doing amazing things, and she swirled her hips against his hand again, and as she came back, she made sure to grind herself into him.
"Eager, are we?"
"You know I am," she said, sounding breathless, and swirled her hips again. His fingers almost caught on her, and the feel of them--something--anything there made her shiver. "You know I want it."
"How bad?" He asked her, and pressed his thumb tighter to her.
Hermione whimpered. It felt so good. "More than anything."
He huffed a laugh from behind her. "Is that right?"
Hermione nodded, getting lost in the feel of this thumb, in the way the pleasure and warmth low in her belly began to pool, and warm and tighten--
"Are you coming, Hermione?" He asked her, bringing his stinging, nipping kisses up to her ear. "Are you about to orgasm?"
"I think so?" She breathed. Tightening her hold on his hair, and then--
He stopped.
"No," he tutted, shushing her when she wailed at the loss of his touch, and his hand slid back to grip her hip.
"Wh-why?!" Hermione spluttered, red-faced and furious.
"Because," Tom rumbled, pushing up on his hips, forcing Hermione to rise to her knees. Her skirts fell back over her legs and Tom brought his hands up to grip her breasts. "I think I want you speared on my cock, spread wide, sobbing, and begging when you come. Not cooing softly to gentle nibbles while my hand tickles you into a paltry pleasure."
"I want to see you, when you come," he said, and she felt his hands slide up again, around her ribcage and higher, over the blades of her back. The thumb that had been working her to the precipice, still wet, slid up her spine, and made her shiver. Eventually his fingers settled on her shoulders, and pushed.
Hermione bent at the waist, let her palms catch her as she fell, and immediately fisted into the soft white sheets of his mattress. He kept his hold on her, and Hermione let herself feel where she was in that moment. Topless, nickers pulled down, her ass pressed firmly against the hot, rock-hard cock of a man straining in his trousers. The moment was so erotic that she could sob from it--from how desired she felt, as he let out a low growling sound from somewhere in the back of his throat--and pulled on her. Pulled her tighter against him, and ground his hips into hers.
"Oh, my God," she moaned, and sank lower, until her forehead pressed into his pillow.
"No God here," he teased her, and released her shoulders. He put his hands on her hips and pushed those down, too. "Not even he could stop me, if you begged him too. You understand?"
Hermione nodded quickly, and let him maneuver her until her skirt and panties were gone, and she was lying on her back, knees and ankles in the air as he pulled the last of her clothing away. "I understand."
"I won't stop, now that you've got me started." He warned again.
Hermione shook her head and reached her hand out to touch him--somewhere, anywhere, she didn't care--and found his wrist. She squeezed it, feeling the coarse hair of his forearm, the corded muscles there, and the bones. He was so firm and solid, that it grounded her, kept her from floating away on the feelings and sensations he brought from her. "I don't want you to stop."
Tom let his eyes rove over every inch of her. His tongue darted from his mouth and whetted his lips, before he took his teeth over them. "Look at you," he murmured slowly, "just look at you."
"I want to look at you, too," she countered, and trailed her hand up. Hermione pushed her other arm under her, coming to sit as her touch trailed up and up until it found the buttons of his shirt. "I want to touch you, too."
"So look at me," Tom told her, and caught her hand. He put her fingers against the buttons high on his collar, "touch me."
Hermione pulled the first button free, and found a freckle there. She'd never seen it before, and that small thing lit a fire within her, a sudden and devouring need for more. Had he any other freckles? And scars or tattoos? She needed to know, she needed to learn him so fiercely that it stole her breath.
She was on her knees in an instant, quickly working the buttons. No sooner had she pushed it over his shoulder did his hand dart up and catch the back of her skull, twining his fingers into her curls and tilting her head back until she looked at him.
"There she is," he said with a dangerous, sinful curl to his lips, "there is the animal I've glimpsed in you."
"The otter?" She scoffed, and tried to jerk her head so that he released her.
But his fingers curled and tightened into her hair until it stung. "No," he said, dragging his teeth against her jaw, "something more human than that."
"I've always been human," Hermione said, as though he were an idiot, and pulled his undershirt free from his trousers. "You're the one who refused to acknowledge it."
"I am now, aren't I?" He asked, diving onto her neck again as her hands found the buckle of his belt. "Fuck."
She pulled it from his trousers in one movement, and then her hand raised up, palm spreading on the plane of his chest, nails scratching against the hair he had there, and pushed. "Lay back," she told him, and wonder of wonders, he listened.
“At your mercy, ma'am," he snarked, his hands brushing against her thighs as she straddled him.
Hermione lifted an eyebrow at his flirtation, and fought a smile as she worked the button and zipper, and shimmied out of his reach as she began to pull them down. His cock sprang free before she'd gotten even as far as his knees, and she froze at the sight of it.
Tall, thick and standing proud, flushed red and nearly purple at the tip. He was uncircumcised and leaking--she could see the pulse of his heart through the bulging veins that wrapped around it, and at the base, a thicket of dark curls not unlike what was on his chest. He had a small birthmark near his bellybutton, just a large freckle, really, and a scar nearly three inches long over his left thigh.
His skin wasn't any paler on his belly than it was on his arms or neck, and while she'd seen the corded muscles of his forearms, and the firm swells of his chest, it was another thing entirely to see him lift his head and his stomach flex into a washboard of abdominals. She saw the way the muscles of his thighs flexed, and the way his cock bobbed with his every movement, and felt the way water pooled under her tongue. He was beautiful. Fit and in his prime--a man, absolutely--with not a single bit of softness on him. Her cunt clenched eagerly again, and she couldn't help but abandon her hold on the hem of his trousers and reach up.
"Touch it," he told her, swallowing tightly as her fingers glanced gently against the smooth skin of his shaft. "You said you wanted to, so do it."
"I am," she whispered, and stole a look at him. There was a redness to his face that she hadn't seen before. "But now I want to taste you, too."
"What a greedy thing you are."
"I am," Hermione agreed, and leaned forward, "I am greedy for you. I always have been."
At his perplexed look, Hermione grinned and abandoned his cock to pull his trousers and pants down to his knees, where he shuffled his legs and kicked it all off. Hermione shifted her knees up, and leaned over him until she had to catch herself on her hands or risk falling. Her hair fell in a mane of frizz and coils from her head, and must have tickled him, because as she leaned down and opened her own mouth, and licked her tongue over his stomach, he flinched nearly violently.
"I've always wanted your attention from the moment I saw you," she breathed, leaving sensual kisses on his obliques, and then up, to just under the muscle of his pectoral, and then higher again, until she curled her tongue over one of his nipples. She sucked on it, felt the way his skin prickled tight and firm, and the way his body trembled slightly when he breathed. "The youngest teacher at Hogwarts in a century. If I were one year older, or you one year younger, we would have been here at the same time. Have you ever thought of that?"
"Yes," he hissed, "I do."
"You wouldn't have noticed me, I think, but I would have probably thought you were very cool. Amanda Shale never shut up about you until she graduated in my second year. She said that her cousin was in Slytherin, Amaria Hask. Do you remember her?"
Tom Chuckled warily. "I do. She sucked my cock in the library, once."
"I didn't even know what that meant, when I'd first heard it," she said, leaving open mouthed kisses over his chest as she went to give attention to his other nipple, "but they giggled as she read the texts from her cousin, describing what it was like to make Professor Riddle come. I thought they were silly, and were glad when I'd come back for third year and they were gone."
"Me too," he breathed, "you're not the first girl to proposition me since I've come to teach."
Hermione bit down on him, and he bucked as he snarled at the pain. She leaned back to sit up straight, flipping her hair over her shoulder. She didn't give him time to breathe before she pressed the knuckles of her palms onto his stomach and sat on his thighs. She rolled her hips and his cock pressed forward against his belly as she rocked down, feeling the steely-hard shaft of him slide between her lower lips.
Hermione let her head fall back, felt her hair cascade cooly against her skin, and groaned with him at the feel of it. "You were--so clever--" she gasped out, and did it again.
Tom grabbed onto her hips, desperate for an anchor. "Hermione--"
"I thought I'd miss Professor Burbage when she left, but I knew immediately that you would be so much better of a teacher. Your tests were so interesting and challenging--everyone else groaned and moaned for weeks, and I--" she cut herself off with a gasp, and swirled her hips down on him again. She felt the firm press of his balls against the curve of her arse and let out a breathy whine. She wanted them. It made no sense, but she just did–
"You what?" He gasped, digging his fingers into her so hard she knew they'd leave little bruises in the morning.
She didn't care. Not one bit when the pain hurt as much as the pleasure felt good. "I worked so hard to impress you. Right from the start, didn't I? I wanted you to recognize me, even then. The first time you gave me a 100 I think I cried."
Before Tom could say anything in response, Hermione pulled herself off of him and shimmied down his legs again--grinning ferally when she caught his glare. "Do you like pain, Tom?"
"No." His answer was flat and fast. "I don't."
Hermione hummed at his answer as she pushed his legs open and settled herself between them. Her hands gripped his inner thighs, feeling the scar there, the hair on them both, the warmth of him. She leaned her face in, smelt his musk, her own scent, and saw the glistening leavings of her wetness on him.
"Im sorry," Hermione cooed. She brushed her nose against his balls, and gave them a sweet kiss before going higher. "Let me make it up to you."
"Wait," he gasped, body jerking at her antics. "Wait--"
But Hermione ignored him, because just as his warning earlier, she wasn't going to stop now that they were started. Hermione gripped his cock and met his eyes just as she licked a wide, hot, wet trail up it from base to leaking tip. The groan that Tom let out as his head fell back against the mattress was loud and guttural. Pleased with his response, Hermione gave his cock a squeeze and fit all of what she could of him into her mouth.
It was tight--he was unfairly large, almost, too--but as soon as his head passed her teeth, she curled her tongue around him and took as much of him into her mouth as she could, until the way he pressed against her throat began to hurt.
"Christ," Tom hissed, lifting his head again and looking at her. One of his legs lifted, bending at the knee, gaining purchase as his fingers curled against her scalp.
She hollowed her cheeks and lifted her head, sucking tightly on him. Tom actually lifted his hips up, chasing her mouth, thighs spasming with the movement. Hermione turned her head and took him into her mouth again, humming as she went. Tom's head fell back against the bed again, and put up a monumental effort to breathe. She slid her hand up from his thigh, running her fingers over his taught flesh, squeezing his quad once appreciatively, before bringing them up to gently cup his tightening sack. She brushed her thumb over them, squeezed ever so lightly, pulled them only a little--
And as she pushed her head further down on his cock, she held her breath, loosened her jaw just as she learned from the forums on the internet when she researched how to really please a man, and swallowed. Tom's body shuddered violently, and Hermione let her hand spread over his belly, felt his skin, his abs, and clawed her fingers over him for purchase as his cock passed through the barrier of her throat, and she slid down the full length of him.
"Stop," he gasped suddenly.
The desperation in his voice was enough to have her listen, even though she enjoyed the view of how wrecked he was.
His fingers curled tightly in her hair and began to pull her away himself. "Stop!"
"Why?" Hermione demanded as his cock came out of her mouth with a wet pop. She wiped a trail of spit from her jaw and glared at him. "Wha--" But she didn't get a chance to ask her question, because in the next moment, he was pulling her down, and his lips were on hers.
The kiss was ravenous and feral, all teeth and growls. She brought her hands to his neck, felt his pulse there, just as his grip abandoned her hair to clap onto the globes of her ass. His fingers dug in, slid down, pulled her thighs apart and hauled her back over him.
“Malfoy teach you that?" He asked her viciously.
Hermione slapped him. "No," she bit out angrily as she settled on his lap once again.
He licked his lips, and though she wasn't certain, she though she saw a flash of bright red on his tongue. "Reddit, then?"
"Maybe," she teased, grinding herself against him. One of Tom's hands left her hip and grabbed himself. A thrill of excitement went through her as she held herself up. She felt him run the head of his cock against the open, sticky seam of her once, twice. And then he was lining himself up--and finally--finally it was here, the moment she'd been desperately hoping for, dreaming of.
"Yeah?" It was all he seemed to be able to do to ask her if she was ready. “Fucking fantastic student, you are.”
Hermione nodded eagerly at his praise and canted her hips just slightly.
Tom squeezed the flesh there, and notched himself inside.
Her heart was a wild, skittering thing inside her chest. She was so nervous and thrilled and hungry for him that it made her body feel lighter, made her feel incandescent. Barely tethered to reality. And then his hand lifted away from his hold on himself. His fingers slid sensually over the junction of her thigh until it reached around and held her just as gently as the other did.
His head fell back onto the bed once more with a thump and he took a moment to take in the sight of her-- And then his fingers tightened just so, and began to pull her down.
The stretch was immediate.
It burned, and she hissed with it, but she didn't let it stop her. She'd endured worse than this. She could take it. She would take it, because she wanted it, and he was giving it to her. There was no sharp pinch of pain that all the older girls tittered about after their first fumbles with boys, but that didn’t mean it was entirely pleasurable yet.
“Tight," was all Tom could wheeze out. "You're so fucking tight."
"Big," Hermione whined, and reached to touch herself.
Tom's thumb had been lovely but nobody knew her like she knew herself. Nearly instantly, she had the right rhythm and pressure to send little quivers of pleasure pulsing through her enough to let her muscles begin to relax. She eased her body down, taking all of him so painfully slowly--and him, an unmoving stone, letting her do what she needed to accommodate him.
The only way she knew he struggled was with how shallowly his breaths came, and the tightness of his hands on her hips. And then, after a moment, it became easier. Her fingers eased on her clit, and her bottom came to sit firmly over him–and then he was inside. All of him.
"Oh, my God," she moaned, hissing slightly as she let herself adjust to the feel. She was speared, alright, straight through. She'd never felt so full in her life.
"Yeah?" He asked her again, thumbs brushing against her skin soothingly. Hermione opened her eyes and looked down at where they joined. She took her hand away entirely and revealed at the sight of the way her thighs spread over his hips, the way her lower lips looked parted and him between them. She rocked against him ever so gently, felt the drag of him inside of her as she pulled off of him by mere millimeters, and then pressed down again. She rocked forward enough so that her clit ground against his pubic bone, and she lifted her eyes from it to his face just in time to see his roll back into his skull.
"Do I feel good, Professor?" She asked breathily, enjoying the sight of him taking pleasure from her body. The level of unexpected power that she felt from being the one to do this to him, for him, with him, made her dizzy.
"Yeah," he groaned, squeezing her hips and pulling them, helping to guide her into a easy, slow rhythm. "You really fucking do."
"Good," she sighed, feeling the burn begin to ebb and the pain subside almost completely.
They went silent for a moment then, rocking gently against each other, learning what it felt like to be together. Their breaths came in pants, mixed with moans and gasps and sighs. When Hermione's muscles relaxed enough for the glide to become smooth and entirely good, she groaned loudly. "You feel amazing."
"Touch yourself again," he ordered her gruffly. Hermione complied easily, feeling her core clench tightly against him as she started to work her tight circles. He did something with his hips then, pushed her up, didn't let himself sink so far inside, and began to buck into her a little more rapidly.
And she–
She couldn't breathe.
"What--" Hermione gasped, feeling her entire body zing like it had been struck with bands of lightning. She felt her herself begin to stiffen, felt her breasts begin to bounce. Her hair flew wildly over her shoulders, and she struggled to keep her hand moving as he focused all of his attention on where they met. She could feel it--coiling, tightening, pulling up higher inside, building into something deeper than anything she'd ever managed on her own. "Tom, Tom, oh my God--"
"Yeah," he growled, looking up at her face. "I feel it. Keep working your hand, Hermione, be a good girl--"
She hissed in answer, and did as he bid. Her knees tightened around his ribcage. Her back curled. She struggled to gasp for breath, and it-- Tighter, higher, pulling, pulling, pulling and then--
"Look at me," he snarled.
She lifted her head, met his eyes, saw the vast, dark, endless hunger there, and her reflection within them. "Come for me, Darling. Come on my cock, you can do it, you're right there I--"
Higher, tighter.
Her fingers worked her clit furiously. Her cunt clenched. He looked desperate. On the verge of madness. She felt so powerful. She felt so wanted. She felt-
"Hermione," He hissed, and she could feel his hips begin to stutter, his rhythm falter.
"Tom," she tried, shaking her head.
"Fuck--" he gasped, and then he was pulling her down onto him so completely, so fully that she felt him press against the very end of her.
She mewled, and felt his cock inside her swell, felt it bulge, and she knew what it meant, and--
It snapped.
Hermione whimpered and released her hand from her clit just in time to clutch at his arm. Her body racked with trembles as it seized, and her orgasm crashed over her in absolute totality. She couldn't breathe, she couldn't think--her mind went white and all she saw was sparks in the dim room. Her entire body locked up with it and bore down on him.
Never had she ever felt like this--did she ever think she could feel like this. She lapsed into madness, for just a moment--completely outside of reality, where nothing made sense except for what she felt- --and it was so much.
Tom groaned tightly and rocked her body forward, milking every last bit of his orgasm from his cock and into her.
She felt it. Hot and viscus and--
He came inside of her. That single thought slammed her consciousness back into her body. She gasped loudly and reared forward, completely collapsing onto him.
He heaved a breath, as though it was the push he needed to finally be able to unlock, too.
“Fuck."