Chapter 65: Fall of Deputy Headmistress [1]
The transition from the bustling office to the cool, torch-lit corridor was immediate. The stone walls acted as a muffler, leaving them in a world of flickering shadows and the rhythmic click of Minerva's heels.
Ethan didn't wait long to start his advance. As they walked, he allowed his hand to roam, his palm coming to rest firmly on the small of her back. He felt the silk of her gown slide against his skin, and beneath that, the heat of her body. Minerva didn't move away; if anything, she leaned into the touch, her breathing hitching slightly.
"You know, Professor," Ethan murmured, his hand sliding lower, his fingers ghosting over the curve of her hip. "You look remarkably different tonight. It's almost as if you've been hiding this version of yourself under those high collars for too long."
"A woman must maintain a certain... image... in a school full of children," Minerva whispered, her voice losing its sharp, academic edge. She stopped near a wide window overlooking the Black Lake, the moonlight silvering her features.
She turned to face him, purposefully shifting her leg so the slit in her dress fell open. The sheer black stocking caught the light, the lace border at her mid-thigh visible for a fleeting second. Ethan let his eyes linger there before moving up to the generous curve of her cleavage, which was rising and falling with her quickened breath.
He moved in closer, his hands finding her waist. He could feel the slight tremble in her frame. It had clearly been a very long time since a man had touched her with this kind of intent, and the sensory overload was hitting her hard. She wasn't evading; she was inviting.
"I must say," Ethan said, his voice dropping to a sultry rasp as he leaned down, his lips inches from her neck. "The stern Professor McGonagall is a force to be reckoned with... but this Minerva? She's a masterpiece."
Minerva's eyes fluttered shut, her head tilting back to give him better access. "You are a very bold man, Mr. Williams."
"You're trembling, Minerva," Ethan whispered, the low vibration of his voice buzzing against her jawline. "For a woman who commands the respect of every ancient stone in this castle, you seem remarkably... unmoored."
"It has been... a very long time, Ethan," she managed to gasp, her Scottish lilt becoming breathy and unstable, stripped of its usual iron-clad authority.
Ethan didn't stay still. He shifted behind her, his hands sliding up from her waist to firmly cup and massage her breasts through the thin, cool emerald silk of her gown. He squeezed with a possessive grip, feeling her weight and the way her nipples were already poking hard against the fabric like small, desperate pebbles. Minerva let out a sharp, ragged gasp, her head falling back onto his shoulder as her body betrayed her. Instinctively, she began grinding her ass back against his crotch, seeking the heavy, stiff ridge of his cock through their layers of clothes.
Ethan leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of her ear as he dropped the bombshell. "You've been acting strange all day. Dodging me, blushing like a schoolgirl. It makes me wonder... did you enjoy the show last night, Minerva? Watching yourself get wrecked through that window?"
Minerva froze for a split second, a scorching, violent shade of red flooding her face until it felt like her skin might actually glow in the torchlight. The secret was out. The cat was literally out of the bag.
"I... I am fond of my evening strolls," she stammered, her voice a thin, trembling wire. "Who knew I would stumble upon such... unmitigated debauchery? I shall have to teach that girl Tonks a severe lesson for using her talents to mimic my appearance. It was preposterous. Scandalous."
"And yet, you stayed," Ethan countered, his voice dropping an octave as his hands slid down to the high slit of her dress. His fingers traced the delicate lace of her black stockings, moving upward toward the sliver of bare, warm skin. "Don't tell me the Deputy Headmistress didn't like the view."
"Ha!" Minerva let out a shaky, desperate laugh that bordered on a sob. "I didn't expect the Hero of Hogwarts to have such... vile intentions toward me. But it seems I still have the charm of my youth, if I can make a man like you go to such lengths."
"You have no idea," Ethan said, his hands moving with a sudden, erratic hunger as he spun her around and pinned her against the cold stone wall. "Should we take this somewhere private, Professor? Or do you prefer the thrill of the open corridor?"
"Oh... eager, are we?" Minerva whispered, her eyes dark with a primal hunger she hadn't allowed herself to feel in forty years. "Follow me. I know a place where even the ghosts do not wander."
****
They moved through the castle like shadows, ducking into an abandoned wing where the air grew damp and smelled of old water and copper pipes. Minerva led him into a large, dim room filled with cracked mirrors and rows of stone sinks.
"The old girls' bathroom," Minerva panted, her fingers already fumbling with the buttons of his leather jacket, her usual grace replaced by a frantic need. "A girl died here long ago. Since then, it has been abandoned. We only found out what killed her a few years ago..."
"Let me guess," Ethan said, already pulling his shirt over his head, his lean, musky torso catching the faint moonlight. "The Basilisk."
Minerva paused, her palms resting against his bare chest, feeling the heavy thud of his heart. "How could you possibly know that?"
"I heard stories," Ethan lied, his voice a low growl as his hands found the emerald silk again.
He didn't waste more time on history lessons. He grabbed her face, his fingers tangling in her dark hair, and pulled her into a hard, messy kiss. Their tongues swirled and wrestled, the sound of wet, rhythmic squelching filling the quiet bathroom as they tasted each other's desperation.
Ethan pushed her back against one of the heavy stone sinks. He reached down, his hands gathering the emerald silk of her dress, bunching it up around her waist. He felt the silky-smooth texture of her inner thighs above the lace of her stockings, the heat radiating from her.
"Ethan..." she moaned into his mouth, her legs wrapping around his waist, the sharp click of her heels echoing off the tiled walls as they struck the stone.
He hauled her up by the ass, placing her firmly on the edge of the sink. Minerva let out a sharp cry, the contrast between the freezing stone and Ethan's burning touch sending a jolt through her spine. His kisses began to trail down, biting at her neck, leaving marks—dark, purple hickeys—that she would never be able to explain away.
His mouth moved to her breasts, taking one full mound into his mouth through the dress. He sucked hard, the sound of wet fabric filling the air, and when he pulled away, the emerald silk was dark and soaked, clinging to the curve of her.
In the heat of the moment, Ethan's grip tightened. He grabbed the plunging neckline of the dress and snapped it. The sound of tearing silk—rrrrip—shattered the silence of the room.
The dress fell away, and her breasts spilled out into the light. They were a little saggy, the weight of her years showing, but they were full and pale, her nipples standing as erect and dark as berries in the cold air.
"What... you've made a mess of my dress!" Minerva gasped, though she made no move to cover herself. "I was supposed to wear this to the party!"
"Don't worry, Minerva. I'll get you a new one," Ethan growled, leaning in and latching his mouth onto one nipple, biting down just enough to make her gasp.
He shifted from one to the other, his tongue swirling around the areolas before he began massaging the other breast with a firm, kneading motion. Minerva's head arched back, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she let out a long, high-pitched moan that echoed through the empty pipes of the girl's bathroom. Class was finally, truly in session.
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