The knock on the door pulls Hermione’s attention away from the case file she’s been reading. “Come in,” she calls out, leaning back in her chair as she looks at the door. It’s almost lunch, so she knows she doesn’t have any appointments scheduled. Hopefully, there’s not a problem.
“Hello, love,” Ron says, stepping into the office and closing the door behind him. He looks handsome in his blue robes that seem to bring out the color in his eyes.
Hermione smiles at her husband. “I thought I heard someone say you were in Liverpool working a case today. Is it time for lunch then?” She and Ron usually try to have lunch together when they’re both at the ministry at the same time, which isn’t as often as she’d like.
“Got back early.” Ron grins as he walks towards her desk. “I had something a little different in mind for lunch today, actually.”
“Different? Did you want to go to a Muggle restaurant instead of the canteen?” She rubs the back of her neck because it’s sore from where she’s been leaning over reading all morning. She knows to use better posture, but she tends to get engrossed in her work and forget, which causes neck and lower back pain if she does it for too many hours. At times like this, she feels far older than her thirty-two years, that’s for certain.
Ron laughs, shaking his head at her. “Not that kind of different, Hermione.” He leers at her in a deliberate way, and she blinks in surprise because this isn’t something they do. Even when they were younger and could hardly keep their hands off each other, they had never crossed the line at work.
“What’s got into you, Ron? You know we don’t do that at work,” she reminds him, her tone prim and hesitant. They’ve both been working on several cases lately that have stressed them out, so it has been a while since they’ve been intimate. Maybe he just wants to take advantage of their overlapping lunch period for a quickie, like they used to have when they were younger. She isn’t sure why he didn’t suggest sneaking off and getting a room at a Muggle hotel like they used to do instead of doing this in her office, though.
“It’s not what’s got into me. It’s what’s gonna get into you.” He grabs his crotch deliberately, and she frowns because she doesn’t necessarily find that vulgarity arousing. “I want to fuck you on your desk, Hermione. I want your lip to bleed from how hard you’re biting it to keep from crying out and letting everyone around know how hard you’re coming around me.”
“Yes, well, there’s little possibility of the latter happening considering the wards on my office,” she points out, feeling slightly flushed despite her annoyance. “Did something happen in Liverpool? Did you come into contact with any potions or hexes?”
Ron stops and cocks his head to the side, smiling slightly. “I’d have to be under the effect of some potion or a hex to want to fuck you? Has it really already come to that? We’re in our early thirties, for fuck’s sake. We should be fucking everywhere we can, not having entire bloody conversations about why I want you.”
“Language,” she scolds, frowning as she runs her fingers through her hair. “I was simply asking because you aren’t behaving like yourself. This isn’t a question of you wanting me, Ron. It’s just not appropriate to have sex at work. This is my office, not a bedroom.”
“Give me five minutes, and I’ll have you not caring at all about appropriateness.” He’s reached her desk now, and she’s conflicted. One part of her knows this isn’t something they should be doing, but the other part of her is feel neglected after more than a week without intimacy and, honestly, just horny. When he kneels down by her chair, she can’t quite believe what it seems to be suggesting. “Let me between your legs so I can convince you, baby.”
Hermione obeys without hesitation. He’s desperate enough to have sex with her that he’s volunteering to perform oral sex on her? She’s certainly going to take advantage of that since it’s not something he does all the time. Reaching her wand, she locks her door to avoid any embarrassing interruptions, and then she looks down at Ron, who is smirking at her. “Well, get on with it then. Convince me.”
“It’s a sad world when you don’t have your pretty little cunt eaten out every morning before work,” he says, clucking his tongue as if it’s her fault he isn’t overly fond of this activity. “I must be a complete wanker.”
“Are you going to keep talking or are you going to do something?” she asks, slightly impatient now that she’s committed to herself to actually having sex in her office. It is a little daring, and there’s a part of her that finds it arousing.
Ron gives her a smile unlike any she’s ever seen from him before he reaches up and tugs her knickers down. He actually licks at the crotch of her knickers, inhaling her scent and doing things that she really shouldn’t find so arousing yet she does. She’s wet by the time he puts his face where she wants it, and he reaches for her hips, pulling her further down the chair and hooking her legs over his shoulders. “Best treat I could ever have for lunch,” he mutters before he licks at her.
Hermione doesn’t expect the enthusiasm, but she’s not complaining. He’s lapping her and licking all over, making more of those noises that are totally unnecessary but arousing anyway. When he slides a finger inside her, she barely even feels it because she’s so wet, and then he adds another, using them to fuck her while he focuses on her clit. “Ron,” she whines, reaching down to fist his hair, arching off her chair to rub against his face and his fingers. There’s going to be a wet spot on her robe, without a doubt, but she doesn’t care because this feels far too good to be thinking about something magic can fix easily.
“You taste so fucking good. You’re desperate for it, too. I must not be fucking you enough,” he says, nipping at her inner thighs with his teeth. “If I had my way, I’d fuck you until I couldn’t come any more, then I’d use toys until you were too exhausted and to satisfied to keep fucking. Then I’d do it all again. Would never let you out of the house, keep you fucked out and sated until all you wanted was to feel me inside you or to come crying my name.”
“Stop talking,” she says, rolling her hips. “I need more.”
“Say it, Hermione. Tell me what you want.” He looks at her, eyes blazing with need, fucking three fingers inside her rougher than usual, and he almost looks angry, but desperate for it, too, so she doesn’t understand.
“I want you, Ron.” He scratches at her thigh with his fingernails. She bites her lip because it hurts, just a little, and she isn’t sure that she likes it. “Fuck me. Is that what you want to hear?”
“Yes.” He stands up, lifting her out of the chair and pushing her onto her desk, not caring about her paperwork or anything else spread out on it. She can hear something falling to the floor, but she can pick it up later. He wastes no time unfastening his trousers and fucking into her, hard and deep, not even giving her time to adjust to him.
It’s a frenzy after that. He opens her robe, shoving her shirt and bra up, biting and licking at her breasts as he fucks her so bloody hard that she can’t believe she’s enjoying it so much. He’s whispering against her chest, something about her tits and nipples, but she can’t hear and doesn’t necessarily want to know what filthy he’s saying because she’s focused on how it feels with him inside her.
Her orgasm sneaks up on her. He’s rubbing the right spot on every thrust in and out, and she doesn’t even have to touch herself to get the friction she needs. She comes with a low whine, making him snap his hips even faster while he kisses her. The kiss is almost violent, teeth and tongue and lips devouring her. It doesn’t take long before he’s coming inside her, sinking deep and grunting as he spills his release. When he’s finished, he smirks at her and pulls out.
“This is how you should always look, Hermione. Satisfied and wrecked,” he says, just staring at her with an intensity that sends tremors through her. “Fucking gorgeous all fucked out with come dripping on your thighs and your tits all swollen and flushed.” He tucks himself away and fixes his robes before he forces two fingers back inside her, stroking her again until she’s gasping and squeezing her own breast because it feels too good and she’s so sensitive from already coming. He smiles smugly when she comes again, shuddering and making soft noises that seem to please him.
“Ron, please,” she murmurs when he keeps fucking her with his fingers, knowing she can’t handle any more right now.
“Such a desperate little slut,” he whispers, bringing his hand to his mouth and licking at the juices coating his palm. “Always knew you were like this.” He leans down to kiss her, biting at her bottom lip when he pulls back. “I should be going anyway. Time’s nearly up. I really enjoyed our lunch, Hermione. We’ll have to do it again soon.”
“I can’t believe we just did this,” she says, running her hand over her sweaty face and taking a few deep breaths to calm her down. She’s a mess and she’s going to need to clean herself up and tidy up the office before anyone comes in to find her this way.
“I did say I’d convince you.” He winks at her before opening the door and leaving. She shakes her head, but she’s smiling as she reaches for her wand and begins to clean up. She feels really good right now, and she’s going to have to encourage him to do this again if it means getting such a different side of him.
While Hermione cleans herself up and fixes her office, Ron makes his way out of the ministry. Time’s nearly up, and he just barely makes it back to Liverpool before the polyjuice potion starts to wear off. The real Ron is still there, propped up against the wall staring at him when he apparates into view. The real Ron is petrified, but his eyes are moving all around, since he obviously knows his likeness has been used in some way.
“I bet you’ve never made her come the way I have. She’s fucking delicious, and I bet you just fuck her in missionary and roll over to snore before she even gets off. She loved it. Loved being fucked hard and driven crazy with desire.” The man smirks when the real Ron seems to realize exactly what has happened. He brings his fingers up to Ron’s mouth and presses them inside, dragging them over his tongue. “Tastes good, doesn’t it? Me and your sexy little wife.”
The man laughs before conjuring a pair of tweezers and a white handkerchief. “Of course, now that I’ve had one taste, I’m afraid I’m going to need more.” He plucks out several more hairs from Ron’s head and carefully tucks them into the white cloth. “If I need more than this, I can always get them straight from the source.”
Once the cloth is tucked into the pocket of his trousers, he looks at the real Ron. “You’re lucky I can share so well or else you might have met with an unfortunate accident,” he says, dragging the tip of his wand across Ron’s cheekbone. “You certainly don’t deserve her, and it’s obvious you’re not taking care of her needs. Don’t worry, though. I’ll help you keep her satisfied. Now, time to finish this. Obliviate.” After removing the memory of what’s happened from Ron, the man removes the charm keeping him petrified and then stuns him before making his quick exit.
Ron Weasley will wake up on the floor of the abandoned warehouse in Liverpool with no memory of how he got there or what happened. Hermione’s clever enough that she might realize the man she spent her lunch break fucking so well wasn’t actually her dull husband, but she’s also clever enough to know to keep her mouth shut to avoid risking her happy little marriage since her husband wouldn’t believe she didn’t know the difference between him and the man who was polyjuiced as him.
And next time. Well, next time, he’s going to fuck her tight little arse.
End
Afternoon Delight
Story Notes:
9/12/14 This involves someone using polyjuice to become Ron then having sex with his wife, which means it’s rape even if she’s consenting to everything because she believes it’s Ron. There’s also non-consensual adultery due to the deception.