The Interviewer • A George Weasley Fanfic

Jane, Please

Jane did admit to herself that she quite enjoyed the feeling of George being in complete control of her... when it came to his hand around her neck or him ordering something into her ear in that low, demanding tone while he was shoving himself into her and pressing a hand against her mouth.

She did. She did enjoy that.

But there was something different about having him at her complete and utter mercy in front of her right at that moment, breathless and vulnerable in the chair, the obvious tightness in his trousers practically begging her.

She continued to smirk as she straightened back up from leaning closer to his ear and let her hand trail from his neck to his chest. It was warm.

With a precise plan, she promptly bent down again to deeply kiss him, feeling his breath hitch into her lips and his hands latch onto her waist.

Immediately after their mouths met, Jane was moving to settle onto his lap, tightly pressing her legs on the outside of his and pressing into his groin, making him groan into the violent kiss.

She broke apart briefly to eagerly tug at the buttons of his shirt, and his hands were already there too; they tore it off of him in nearly an instant and Jane threw it to the floor before diving into his lips again.

Maintaining the pace and counting her blessings that George's eyes were closed, Jane efficiently used one hand to reach into the side of her bra under her dress where she kept her wand, tightly slipped between her skin and the fabric, and slid it out.

And while George was still distracted by her lips melting into his, Jane moved her hands over his, slid them off of her hips, and slowly pushed his arms behind the chair, making him speak breathlessly into her mouth-

"Wait... what're you-"

"Incarcerous."

And just like that, his wrists were bound behind the chair, causing George to grunt, startled and utterly taken aback.

Their lips having broken apart, Jane smiled a sultry sort of smile, twirled her wand, and bit it between her teeth before getting off his lap.

George's eyes were full of a combination between defeat and alarm while he watched her step back once she was off of him.

"Jane..." his arms desperately flexed against the ropes disarming him from behind, "...Jane, please..."

"You take me for a pushover," she giggled, placing her wand on the accent table beside the couch.

His exhale was shaky when he shifted in his chair and glanced down at himself, nearly whining at his... situation.

"Too bad you don't get to take this dress off of me..." she sighed whilst moving back in front of him, but still a few steps away; "...I guess I'll just have to do it myself..."

She kept perfect eye contact while she reached for her zipper on the side and slowly slid it all the way down, opening the fabric, until it was far enough that the straps fell off of her bare shoulders and the dress puddled on the floor in an instant.

Standing before him in a set of black lingerie, including a push-up bra and underwear that left little to the imagination, Jane watched his expression melt; his mouth parted just slightly and his eyes ran over her like a dog staring at a bone locked in a cage.

"Oh..." what a heavenly breath that fell from his lips.

George's legs shifted on the chair and Jane flicked her eyes to the tight bulge in his pants that was surely discomforting-

"Oh, goodness, that must be awful..." she cooed, moving towards him, "...let me help you with that, darling..."

She got to her knees and kept eye contact, smiling innocently, while unbuttoning and unzipping his trousers, watching his chest move in a deep, unsteady breath and his eyes have a hard time keeping to her face.