Leigh!fic | The Fruit of Knowledge (1/1) | Cormac McLaggen/Lily Luna Potter
Title: The Fruit of Knowledge (1/1)
Author: Leigh, aka leigh_adams
Characters: Cormac McLaggen/Lily Luna Potter
Rating: R
Word Count: 1,022
Summary: Lily Luna made it her business to know things -- important things. But there are some things she just doesn't care about.
Author’s Notes: Written as a gift for elle_blessing as part of hp_humpdrabbles' Humpfest 2013.
As personal assistant to the Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports, Lily Luna Potter knew things. For example, she knew that Rachael Wood was pregnant and taking a leave of absence for the rest of Holyhead's season two weeks before the news broke in the Evening Prophet. She knew which country had been selected to host the next Quidditch World Cup (Brazil) before the official announcement. And she knew when she'd be receiving a raise well before her annual review.
She knew which secretaries would expedite reports and which ones wouldn't. She knew the quickest way to get from her boss's office to her own, and she knew exactly where he hid his private stash of Glenlivet single malt.
She also knew it was a bad, bad idea to fuck her boss.
Lily loved the feel of silk beneath her skin. They didn't often make it to his bed -- always his, never hers -- but she luxuriated in it when they did. He was an infuriating bastard, but the man had excellent taste in sheets. Dark green silk framed her white skin as she lounged about on the bed, naked as the day she'd been born.
And he was still fully clothed. Bastard.
It was part of the game they played, the game they loved. They were always playing it, even at the office. She supposed she should say a prayer of thanks that no one had noticed it yet, the way they tugged at the power dynamic between them. At the office, he had the upper hand.
In the bedroom, though? That was where the real battle was fought.
It wasn't something she'd planned, of course. Though really, how ridiculous was that statement? It sounded just like something Rosie would ask -- "No, Rosie, I didn't plan on fucking Cormac McLaggen, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports, all around arsehat, and former suitor of your Mum's. Happy now?" Lily Luna was not a gold digging harlot, thank you very much.
(Well, she wasn't a gold digger at the very least).
But describing what drew her to Cormac was like trying to answer the Sphinx's riddle -- damned frustrating, and it usually left her with a headache. He was a three-time divorcee; an arrogant demanding ass that had coming -- sometimes literally -- at his beck and call.
There were plenty of men her own age she could date. Merlin only knew Lysander Scamander had dropped enough hints, and her cousin Elodie had plenty of attractive friends from Beauxbatons she was willing to offer up as potential dates. Lily had tried; really, she had.
She just couldn't help it.
A silk tie -- his silk tie -- tied snuggly over her eyes, Lily felt the bed dip beneath his weight as he joined her atop those silk sheets. She couldn't see (he tied a skillful knot), but she could feel him behind her, feel the heat of his body as he slid closer.
And then the slightest touch. His fingertips, gentle and soft as a feather, tracing between her shoulder blades He was teasing her; robbing her of her sight forced her to rely on her other senses, and her skin prickled into awareness as he traced his way down her naked back.
Her freckles. He was obsessed with them, for some ungodly reason.
She wasn't complaining. The light touches were nearly more arousing that a heavy hand. Cormac was a seasoned lover. He knew how to bring a woman to climax in many, many ways. He knew how to take his time, to fan the flames until she was writhing beneath him.
It had started like most bad decision do -- too much alcohol. Too much alcohol at the Ministry's annual holiday party, to be exact. Lily Luna had never been able to hold her vodka as well as her cousins, yet she continued to drink it. It had not been one of her more shining moments.
It was cliched, but it'd started like all those trashy romance novels her Mum kept hidden in the kitchen cupboards. Heated gazes across a crowded room, a bit of small talk, and before she knew it, her knickers were on the floor of his office and her legs were wrapped around his waist.
Gods, what would her friends think? What would her parents think? She knew better, they'd raised her better, she had to request a transfer as soon right this instant.
When his lips replaced his fingers on her skin, she sighed in contentment. His hands slid down to her hips, holding her in place as he moved over her body. One hand cupped a pale buttock, and Lily's breath caught in anticipation.
But no, he didn't touch her where she was aching to be touched. Bastard.
His tongue traced the same patterns between her freckles as his fingers had previously. It was a different kind of tease; her skin was warmth where he touched her but cooled as soon as his tongue slid lower, dancing over the small of her back. She felt the gentle press of his teeth at the curve of her arse.
It was the only warning he gave her before she felt his tongue slip between her legs.
She was playing with fire, and she knew it. But that didn't stop Lily from keeping her hands dangerously close to the flame. She wasn't some silly girl, harboring notions of love or -- Merlin forbid -- becoming the fourth Mrs. Cormac McLaggen. He wasn't a 'forever' type of bloke. Lily was a smart girl -- she knew he wasn't her forever.
It was one of the many things she knew. She knew how he took his coffee and when he needed a dollop of whiskey instead of cream (very helpful prior to meetings with her Uncle Percy). She knew how much he liked her matching green lingerie sets, and she knew the best sort of ways to let him know when she wasn't wearing knickers.
Lily knew it was a bad idea to fuck her boss. The problem was, she didn't care.
Author: Leigh, aka leigh_adams
Characters: Cormac McLaggen/Lily Luna Potter
Rating: R
Word Count: 1,022
Summary: Lily Luna made it her business to know things -- important things. But there are some things she just doesn't care about.
Author’s Notes: Written as a gift for elle_blessing as part of hp_humpdrabbles' Humpfest 2013.
As personal assistant to the Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports, Lily Luna Potter knew things. For example, she knew that Rachael Wood was pregnant and taking a leave of absence for the rest of Holyhead's season two weeks before the news broke in the Evening Prophet. She knew which country had been selected to host the next Quidditch World Cup (Brazil) before the official announcement. And she knew when she'd be receiving a raise well before her annual review.
She knew which secretaries would expedite reports and which ones wouldn't. She knew the quickest way to get from her boss's office to her own, and she knew exactly where he hid his private stash of Glenlivet single malt.
She also knew it was a bad, bad idea to fuck her boss.
Lily loved the feel of silk beneath her skin. They didn't often make it to his bed -- always his, never hers -- but she luxuriated in it when they did. He was an infuriating bastard, but the man had excellent taste in sheets. Dark green silk framed her white skin as she lounged about on the bed, naked as the day she'd been born.
And he was still fully clothed. Bastard.
It was part of the game they played, the game they loved. They were always playing it, even at the office. She supposed she should say a prayer of thanks that no one had noticed it yet, the way they tugged at the power dynamic between them. At the office, he had the upper hand.
In the bedroom, though? That was where the real battle was fought.
It wasn't something she'd planned, of course. Though really, how ridiculous was that statement? It sounded just like something Rosie would ask -- "No, Rosie, I didn't plan on fucking Cormac McLaggen, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports, all around arsehat, and former suitor of your Mum's. Happy now?" Lily Luna was not a gold digging harlot, thank you very much.
(Well, she wasn't a gold digger at the very least).
But describing what drew her to Cormac was like trying to answer the Sphinx's riddle -- damned frustrating, and it usually left her with a headache. He was a three-time divorcee; an arrogant demanding ass that had coming -- sometimes literally -- at his beck and call.
There were plenty of men her own age she could date. Merlin only knew Lysander Scamander had dropped enough hints, and her cousin Elodie had plenty of attractive friends from Beauxbatons she was willing to offer up as potential dates. Lily had tried; really, she had.
She just couldn't help it.
A silk tie -- his silk tie -- tied snuggly over her eyes, Lily felt the bed dip beneath his weight as he joined her atop those silk sheets. She couldn't see (he tied a skillful knot), but she could feel him behind her, feel the heat of his body as he slid closer.
And then the slightest touch. His fingertips, gentle and soft as a feather, tracing between her shoulder blades He was teasing her; robbing her of her sight forced her to rely on her other senses, and her skin prickled into awareness as he traced his way down her naked back.
Her freckles. He was obsessed with them, for some ungodly reason.
She wasn't complaining. The light touches were nearly more arousing that a heavy hand. Cormac was a seasoned lover. He knew how to bring a woman to climax in many, many ways. He knew how to take his time, to fan the flames until she was writhing beneath him.
It had started like most bad decision do -- too much alcohol. Too much alcohol at the Ministry's annual holiday party, to be exact. Lily Luna had never been able to hold her vodka as well as her cousins, yet she continued to drink it. It had not been one of her more shining moments.
It was cliched, but it'd started like all those trashy romance novels her Mum kept hidden in the kitchen cupboards. Heated gazes across a crowded room, a bit of small talk, and before she knew it, her knickers were on the floor of his office and her legs were wrapped around his waist.
Gods, what would her friends think? What would her parents think? She knew better, they'd raised her better, she had to request a transfer as soon right this instant.
When his lips replaced his fingers on her skin, she sighed in contentment. His hands slid down to her hips, holding her in place as he moved over her body. One hand cupped a pale buttock, and Lily's breath caught in anticipation.
But no, he didn't touch her where she was aching to be touched. Bastard.
His tongue traced the same patterns between her freckles as his fingers had previously. It was a different kind of tease; her skin was warmth where he touched her but cooled as soon as his tongue slid lower, dancing over the small of her back. She felt the gentle press of his teeth at the curve of her arse.
It was the only warning he gave her before she felt his tongue slip between her legs.
She was playing with fire, and she knew it. But that didn't stop Lily from keeping her hands dangerously close to the flame. She wasn't some silly girl, harboring notions of love or -- Merlin forbid -- becoming the fourth Mrs. Cormac McLaggen. He wasn't a 'forever' type of bloke. Lily was a smart girl -- she knew he wasn't her forever.
It was one of the many things she knew. She knew how he took his coffee and when he needed a dollop of whiskey instead of cream (very helpful prior to meetings with her Uncle Percy). She knew how much he liked her matching green lingerie sets, and she knew the best sort of ways to let him know when she wasn't wearing knickers.
Lily knew it was a bad idea to fuck her boss. The problem was, she didn't care.