Severus rucked up Luna's skirt and pulled her forward into his erection. "Yes, it's hard. Turgid. Engorged. Erect. Yes, I'd like to fuck you."
"Do you always talk this much when you want to engage in sexual congress?"
With a growl and rough shove, Severus was inside her. Tight. Hot. Pulsing. Inner muscles seized his prick in a demanding massage, and Severus forced himself to think of Pince, nude, to prevent himself from spilling into Luna at once.
Waiting for her had been hell.
"Oh, that's . . . you're . . . yes! Like that!" Luna urged, wrapping her legs around Severus' waist and scooting herself off the table.
"Damn! Can't . . . thrust!"
"Bed. I want . . . thrusting."
Severus stumbled forward, a half-remembered spell on his lips, and his desk became a pile of white, soft, thick fur that he did his best to 'thrust' Luna through.
In, in, in . . . .
All he could think about was the slick fist of sensation milking his prick.
"Bet you . . . take all the girls . . . like this," Luna whispered, squeezing him more tightly with every word. "All your . . . pretty little Ravenclaws!"
His hips jerking arrhythmically, Severus came, hard and all too soon; the thought of shagging students—a long-time fantasy—had been too much for his mental image of Pince to withstand.
"Not yet!" Luna protested, pushing him off herself and over onto his back without releasing his prick. "You're still . . . hard, and I'm not . . . finished . . . with you!" she exclaimed, briefly riding him before she, too, was shuddering through orgasm.
Spent, Luna fell forward.
Severus found that he didn't mind the weight.
"'Pretty little Ravenclaws'?"
"There'd best only be one, you know."
"I do, and there is."
"Mmm," Luna murmured. "Full marks for impatience. I'm glad you missed me—even if I did have to goad you into showing me how much."
"So much," Severus murmured, wishing he could say more.
"Good. When you're ready again, I'll summon my old school tie, Professor."
Severus' cock twitched. "'Full marks', indeed."