Harry Potter: S*x Oriented Hogwarts

“It really means a lot to me that you come here every day for having lunch with your wife.....”

Well, there was one good thing after a lot of months under there—Lucifer could do better than the canteen. “I want to take you to a real restaurant today.”

Hermione smiled and pushed aside the work as she stood. “Come over, here.”

Lucifer perked up and slid around her cubicle so he was crammed into the tiny space with her.

She yanked him closer, and he found himself wedged into the corner between the filing cabinet and the wall.

Hermione’s hands snaked around him, her arms trapping him in a fierce hug.

Lucifer’s heart raced, somehow pounding like thunder whilst simultaneously melting like snow in a bonfire.

Returning her embrace, he rested his face atop her head and breathed in the sweet aroma of her vanilla shampoo; the scent clouded his brain in a fog bank of blissful peace.

Lucifer closed his eyes in an attempt to commit the moment to memory. 

Tipping back her head, she looked up at him with those warm brown eyes that made his toes curl, and his befuddled brain saw no option but to kiss her.

As soon as her lips touched his, his dick began to fill with hope.

Her tongue twirled its way into his mouth, and he groaned in welcome.

Screw lunch! They should stay right where they were.

Hermione patted his chest and leaned back to disconnect their kiss. “We should get going. We’re not going to have enough time to eat.”

Eat? Oh. Right. Lunch was for food.

Not snogging. Damn logical of you, Mrs. Morningstar.

“Don't make that face, you also have people to help.”

Lucifer sighed but nodded in agreement and led her out and down the hall.

When they boarded the lift, there were only three other people on their way up, so he had no excuse to crowd her in the corner.

Of all the times for the lift not to be packed with people. Dammit!

In the lobby she politely held his arm as he Apparated them to an alley near the restaurant.

When did she turn so restrained?

All he wanted was to throw her down and shag her in the middle of the busy street.

The restaurant bustled with workday lunchers, but they were escorted to his reserved table immediately.

That was good. He needed to sit.

They got a nice table in the back where they wouldn’t be disturbed or overheard, and Hermione perused the menu while Lucifer perused her.

His eyes locked on her mouth, his cock aching every time her teeth scraped her lower lip in ponderous concentration.

Being so close without touching was a cruel test of his willpower.

“Hermione?”

She glanced up. “Hm?”

“What are you doing today at night?”

“Give you a tongue bath.”

“And?”

“Suck on my husband's cock like I do every night.”

Hermione looked up, and her mirth morphed into sly sexuality. “Have you been a dirty boy?”

If his cock hadn’t been tangled in his pants, his hard-on would have rammed the bottom of the table with enough force to knock over the water glasses.

“Yes, miss. Very dirty. Will you—?“

“Good afternoon,” the waiter said, interrupting their game before it could get good. “The chef’s special today is salmon salad with feta, almonds, and balsamic vinaigrette. The soup of the day is lobster bisque.”

Lucifer sighed as he droned on, but Hermione smiled attentively, as if she were dying to be regaled on the wonders of ravioli.

Stupid waiter. Now the moment was ruined.

“Oh that sounds lovely,” Hermione suddenly interjected. “I’ll have that.”

Lucifer had no idea what the man had said, but he nodded and handed over his menu just to get rid of him. “I’ll have the same.”

“May I interest you in a nice white wine to go with lunch?”

“Yes. I’m parched,” Lucifer said, sipping his water to dampen the heat wave rolling through his body.

Hermione shook her head. “Just water for me, thanks. Wine always makes me drowsy.”

The waiter nodded and took the menus, leaving them alone again.

“I’m so hungry,” Hermione murmured, and with a coy look slid her foot up his calf.

Bloody hell!

Was she insinuating that she needed a helping of his dick to slake her appetite? “I’m surprised you didn’t order oysters.”

She blushed but continued her smooth ascent up the inside of his leg. “I hardly think they’re necessary.”

“Is that so?” Lucifer wondered as her foot came to rest on his seat, right between his thighs.

Fuck, had she taken off her shoe?

He glanced down, and she wiggled her tight-clad toes at him in greeting.

The movement brushed his burgeoning bulge, and his dick furiously fought its confinement to wave back.

Or perhaps it was signaling for relief.

It got none.

Hermione sank down lower and pressed her sole to his erection.

Her wiggling piggies tested the boundaries of his manhood, and when she got the lay of his land, she tiptoed to the checkpoint and frisked him for contraband.

Lucifer gritted his teeth and leaned back in his seat.

Point and flex—she danced along the edge of his dick like a prima ballerina, foot-wanking him with the most wicked smile on her face.

“I was just thinking,” Hermione mused in a deceptively innocent tone, “I could do with some more of your custard.”

Lucifer didn’t know if she was honestly saying she wanted custard, or if she was suggesting some chocolate-coated naughtiness. “I’ll heat over the leftovers if you still want to play custard costume shop.”

Hermione laughed loudly and reached across the table for his hand.

Lucifer leaned forward and caught her fingers with his. His skin tingled at her touch, his stomach fluttering like a drunken hummingbird.

They stayed joined at the hands until the main course was served, at which time she smoothly extracted her foot from his engorged genitals.

Lucifer hadn’t been expecting a serving of blue balls for lunch, but he had to admit the meal was memorable.

He’d never eat lobster ravioli again without a sentimental ache pulsing through his groin.