Fated Adventure.

The only interruption after the feast was all of the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students eagerly placing their names into the Goblet of Fire. Dumbledore had drawn an age line around it, ensuring that only those of age could enter. That didn't stop a few Hogwarts students from eyeing it with clear determination, no doubt already plotting ways to bypass the restriction.

Fleur, however, looked ready to murder someone as she was forced to detach from my side for a whole 30 seconds to submit her name. 30 seconds too long, in her opinion. The moment she returned, she practically melted back into me, as if ensuring that no one would dare attempt to separate us again.

With the feast concluded and students free to do as they pleased for the next couple of hours before curfew, I was about to suggest heading back to the Ravenclaw common room when Fleur suddenly perked up, her grip on my arm tightening.

"Ryan," she said sweetly—too sweetly. "You must give me a tour of this castle."

I raised an eyebrow. "Must I?"

She didn't even dignify that with a verbal response. Instead, she simply stood, tugging me up with her as if I weighed nothing, and proceeded to practically drag me toward the entrance hall. Yue and Rachel exchanged amused glances but made no move to intervene, clearly enjoying the show.

"Hurry up," Fleur huffed, her nails lightly pressing into my wrist. "I will not waste time waiting."

"You do realize the castle isn't going anywhere, right?"

She shot me a sharp look over her shoulder. "Less talking, more walking."

Deciding it was best not to argue, I let her lead me through the grand corridors of Hogwarts, her pace brisk as if she had a specific destination in mind. Occasionally, she'd glance around at the moving staircases and enchanted suits of armor with mild interest, but it was clear she had other priorities.

And then she spotted it—a broom closet just off the main hallway, tucked in a secluded alcove. Without hesitation, she yanked me toward it, flicked her wand, and cast an illusion over the door to make it blend seamlessly with the wall.

Before I could even comment, she pulled me inside, shutting the door behind us with a quiet click.

The next thing I knew, I was pinned against the wall, Fleur's body pressing flush against mine as her lips crashed into mine in a ravenous, almost desperate kiss. Her fingers tangled in my hair, tugging lightly as she deepened the kiss, her Veela magic wrapping around me in an intoxicating haze. Her scent—wild, sweet, and utterly addictive—filled the small space, making it impossible to focus on anything else but her.

Her hands roamed my chest, nails scraping lightly against the fabric of my robes before slipping beneath them to touch the skin beneath. A satisfied hum vibrated against my lips as she pressed even closer, as if trying to mold herself to me entirely.

When she finally pulled back, her eyes were dark with desire, her breathing heavy. "You kept me waiting too long."

I chuckled, my hands settling on her waist. "I wasn't aware there was a time limit."

Fleur smirked, pressing another lingering kiss to my jaw before whispering, "There is now."

She kissed me again, and I decided that whatever plans I might have had for the rest of the evening could definitely wait.

~~~~

I barely had time to recover before Fleur was on her knees, her fingers making quick work of my belt with a hunger that sent a shiver down my spine.

Her breath hitched the moment I was free, a soft mewl of pleasure escaping her lips as she took in the sight before her. Her body trembled, her blue eyes hazy with desire, drinking me in like a parched traveler finding an oasis.

Then, in one swift, desperate motion, she took me in, her lips stretching around my length, heat engulfing me completely. A strangled moan vibrated through her throat as she buried herself to the base, her body shuddering from the sensation.

Her eyes fluttered, rolling back for a moment before refocusing on me, filled with unfiltered adoration and need. Her arms wrapped tightly around my waist as she moved, a sinful mix of moans and muffled whimpers escaping her, completely lost in her worship.

Every stroke, every motion was deliberate, her tongue teasing, her lips sealing around me in a perfect rhythm, her throat clenching. The intensity in her gaze never wavered, filled with something raw and possessive, as if she was branding this moment into her very soul.

Her throat and mouth felt sinfully divine—hot, tight, and utterly relentless. There was no hesitation, no resistance, just pure, eager devotion. She had no gag reflex, nothing to slow her down as she moved with a supernatural precision, finding and stimulating every sensitive spot as if she had memorized them.

I could feel it—building fast, unstoppable. And she knew it too.

Her pace quickened, her head moving with desperate need, each bob more frantic than the last. Lewd, wet sounds filled the small space, mingling with her muffled moans as she took everything I gave her without pause, without restraint. She wanted this—no, she needed this.

Her fingers dug into my hips, urging me to let go, her eyes burning with a silent plea as she lost herself in the act, in me.

"Fleur!" With a deep groan, I let go, releasing into her eager mouth and throat. She sealed herself around me perfectly, her soft lips and tight throat working in tandem to draw every last drop from me, milking me with a skill I never could have imagined.

The moment it hit her, a shudder ran through her entire body. Her core clenched, her eyes rolled back, and she trembled violently before going utterly limp—her throat still working instinctively, swallowing every drop as if it were the very essence of life itself.

Gulp, gulp, gulp.

For Fleur, this was more than just indulgence; it was her first taste of something truly intoxicating. She had earned her after-dinner treat, and from the blissed-out expression on her face as she licked and cleaned up every drop, it was clear—nothing would ever compare.