Twice Bitten ~ COMPLETED

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
*******************************

Chapter 10 ~ Succumbing

Hermione slowly dried her hair and body, wrapping a large towel around herself and tucking in the edges so it remained draped over her. She picked up Harry’s hairbrush off the sink and gingerly pulled out several black hairs snarled around the bristles. Then she walked into the bedroom, sat down on the edge of the bed and began to draw the brush through her hair slowly, still thinking about Professor Snape.

“Why isn’t this feeling leaving me?” she said to herself, “It’s torture. And it’s . . . wrong. He’s a bloody vampire for gods’ sake. And I’ve never been with anyone . . . why him? It wouldn’t be the right kind of ‘first time’ by any means.”

Snape, still clinging to the ceiling, climbed toward her, the witch not noticing the shimmer above her. It stopped a little ways in front of her as Snape looked down at her smooth shoulders and bare legs. Only a towel came between him and the Life he longed for.

He removed his Disillusionment spell, then dropped down slowly, floating to the floor, Hermione letting out a shriek as he landed in front of her, dropping the hair brush and clutch the towel around her.

”What are you doing here?” she cried.

Snape looked at her, his dark eyes intense.

”I heard you calling me,” he said softly, “you summoned me.”

”I didn’t call you!” Hermione gasped at him.

Snape quirked his lip slightly.

”You were saying my title and surname over and over. If you weren’t calling me, what were you doing?” he asked the witch, fully knowing the answer to his question.

Snape heard Hermione’s heart begin to palpitate, her embarrassment stimulating the vasodilators, expanding her capillaries, the flow of blood increased as her face, throat and ears reddened.

“Well, I wasn’t calling you,” she said weakly, not wanting to tell the vampire she had been fantasizing about him while masturbating.

Snape blinked at her.

”Do you want to experience me, Hermione?” he asked her softly, using her name.

Hermione felt a strong pulse between her legs at his question.

”No,” she said, looking away from him.

”You’ve always been a terrible liar,” the vampire crooned, “but I know what you were doing in the shower, witch. I saw you as well as heard you. I’ve come to you because of your need. I feel it as if it is my own . . . I mirror your desire. This will continue until it is met and to be honest, will become more of a distraction as time passes. Neither of us can afford distraction, Hermione.”

“What can we do?” she breathed at him.

”You know,” the wizard said, “What men and women have done since the beginning of time when drawn to each other.”

”But you’re not a man,” Hermione said weakly.

”I am changed. But I assure you I am all male,” the wizard replied, “and I can give you what you crave. All you have to say is you want me.”

Hermione’s brow furrowed at this.

”You can just compel me to do this, Professor. Why do I need to tell you that?” she asked him.

The truth was, Hermione did want this to happen. She did want the wizard on top of her, inside of her . . . but she didn’t want to be the one who initiated the act. It would seem more proper if he seduced her or seemed to. She could cling to that fact if guilt set in afterwards. She could blame him.

The wizard studied Hermione. She looked so delicious and accessible sitting on the bed with nothing but a towel around her.

”I’m not sure,” he admitted, “but I feel you are the one that must do the compelling if you are to come away from me unharmed. Were I to compel you, Hermione, I believe that I would feed. Currently, I have no desire for blood, only for you. I believe it would be instinct if I bit you after compelling you. But if it were you who compelled me, you would be safe . . . at least from my vampiric inclinations,” he said to her. “But I suspect you know how it will be with me. You’ve seen it for yourself. You’ve fantasized about it. Now it’s an opportunity to make it real.”

Hermione blinked up at him, biting her lip. Yes, she could feel desire washing over her in pulsing waves, waves that seemed to flow from the Potions master. It felt as if her body was starting to burn and the only thing that could extinguish her, could put her out, was him.

”I will be thorough,” Snape said, moving a bit closer to the witch, “I burn for you, Hermione Granger. Tell me you want this. That is all you need to do to be relieved of your longing and to relieve me of my own. It’s maddening. You’re maddening.”

Snape wanted to touch her but didn’t dare. He instinctively knew the first move would have to be Hermione’s or this interaction would have a terrible ending. The power was in her hands. He only hoped she would succumb to what she felt, or else . . . he might then compel her. His need was so great.

”I don’t wish to turn you, Hermione,” he said quietly. “But you have brought out the beast within me. Not the beast of blood but another beast with deeper needs. If you force me to compel you, our cause will be lost. You will be lost. Keep your life and give in to what you feel . . .”

Black eyes met amber as witch and vampire faced off, both bodies quivering slightly with need. Snape’s hands clenched spasmodically as he waited for Hermione’s answer. He would not leave her untouched.

He could not.

”You summoned me!” he hissed urgently. “Let go of your fears. There is nothing to fear from me, Hermione. I will give you what I know you need. I see your desire, curling in the pit of your belly like a snake, coiled tight, waiting to be freed. Your very blood is burning in your veins, your body craves my touch, your flesh cries out for it. I hear you as clearly as if you are speaking your need to me . . . but you must say it! Say it witch!”

Snape felt himself sinking deeper into his lust for the witch, a slight hunger beginning to rise in him, the hunger he didn’t want freed. The urge to compel her to come to him was beginning to take him over.

”Please, Hermione” he said to the witch, his voice going raw at the unaccustomed use of the word as well as from his efforts to keep control of the lust that was overtaking him. “I can’t fight this, and I can’t leave you without having you, witch. Tell me you want me!”

The wizard snarled this last statement at Hermione, his eyes desperate as his teeth began to elongate, pulsing back and forth between fangs and eyeteeth as he fought to keep his sensibilities.

Hermione could feel the raw desire streaming off the wizard. It was as if she were immersed in it, drowning in it, her own body pulling toward Snape even as she fought to remain seated, fought to keep that last bit of herself. It was as if she were being stretched and pulled apart. As she looked up at him and the ferocious look in his eyes, something broke. Snapped.

Nothing but giving in to her desire mattered now. But she had to say it.

“I want you, Professor,” Hermione said in a small voice, her pounding heart sounding like a drum in Snape’s ears as he felt the bloodlust withdrawing.

“Then I am yours,” he said softly, drawing her up by her hand and pulling her into contact with his body, towel and robes between them. “And you are . . . mine.”

The moment Hermione felt Snape’s robed body against her, it was as if a small explosion occurred inside her, her mind receding and senses coming to the fore as she felt the towel wound about her pulled away, heard a low sensual growl, then hissed as the Potions master’s hand slid slowly down her spine and over the small of her back, resting on the swell of her buttocks. She quaked against him, unable to speak, unable to pull away. Instead, she pressed forward as if trying to pass through him.

Suddenly, she felt his naked flesh against her body, his cock hard and long pressing against her belly, the hot, rigid flesh making her feel as if she’d go mad.

Like Lilutu, Snape had removed his robes, though he had no idea how this had been accomplished. It wasn’t conscious thought. It was . . . reaction. Now he was flesh to flesh with the witch, feeling her heart beat as if it were his own. He was aware, very aware of the rise and fall of her ribcage against him as she breathed, the rhythm of life pressed against him, warm and compelling. So compelling.

”I feel your life,” Snape hissed, “I want to immerse myself in it . . . in you.”

Hermione couldn’t respond. The feel of his warmth against her superseded any clarity of thought she might have possessed. He was here, strong, and ready to meet whatever needs she had. She let out a sigh, moving against the wizard helplessly, grinding her belly into the long, hard length of him wantonly.

“I feel your need,” Snape hissed, wrapping his arms around her and lifting Hermione, falling unceremoniously with her to the bed, her body a delightful cushion beneath him, the pulse of her life a heady attraction. Hermione arched up against him, sighing with hunger.

The dark wizard looked down at her, reveling in the cushion of her body, the wanton motions underneath him. Yes, Hermione was completely taken, completely lost in her need for him, and it was heady to realize, to feel in her gyrations. Innocence was definitely lost.

The wizard ground against her hard, pressing his erection between her thighs hungrily, virgin status notwithstanding. He could feel her hunger and inexperience had nothing to do with it. Snape reached between their bodies, grasping the heft of his erection, large, throbbing, ready to seek the bliss he longed for, lose itself in the life that was Hermione Granger. She was no longer young witch, or former student. She was Woman, willing, lustful, wanting . . .

Snape lifted his body slightly and slapped the length of his arousal between Hermione’s thighs, making the witch arch and cry out at his sting.

”You aren’t afraid of pain,” he hissed at the witch.

:”I . . . I already ache, Professor,” she breathed back at him, writhing.

“What is it you ache for, witch?” he asked her, slapping her core again.

There was nothing of the shy, retiring virgin in Hermione. Nothing of hesitance or fear. All she knew was the longing deep inside her, the emptiness, the need for connection, for filling. What should have been something hesitant and somewhat frightening was not that way at all.

All she knew and wanted to know, was the Potions master in all his masculine glory.

”I ache for you,” she breathed, looking up into that harsh, angular face, those dark, deep eyes, lank hair swinging over her. No, Severus Snape wasn’t handsome, but at this moment he was the most beautiful creature, human on not, on the face of the planet.

Snape hissed at her honest response, shifting his pale body on top of hers, pressing the swollen head of his cock into her heat and moving it back and forth in her softness, the life of the witch serving as an even more poignant arousal as she sighed and groaned at the intimate contact.

“So wet,” he crooned, “so excited by the thought of me inside you. I feel your ache, witch, I feel who you are underneath what is obvious. Even if you free me, I will always be connected to you by this moment. Always a part of you, Hermione Granger.”

Hermione let out a cry as she was penetrated by the wizard’s hot girth and length fully. He didn’t hold back, but drove into the witch as if she were a haven, a home where he could find solace, his thick foreskin drawing back, the sensitive flange and length burying itself in her warmth, her living flesh, her bucking, twisting body. The Potions master let out a hissing groan as he slid into her pulsing warmth, the life of the witch snug around him.

Hermione let out a cry, but not a cry of pain. It was one of fulfillment. Losing one’s virginity was supposed to be a painful ordeal, but she felt no pain, only satisfaction as the hard, rigid fullness of the wizard claimed her body, filling her. Parting and plowing through her in one fell swoop, a satisfying jerk and sting at the end of his penetration.

Whether her lack of pain was a result of being taken by a vampire or some freak occurrence she didn’t know. All Hermione knew was the completeness and wholeness she felt as the wizard laid claim to her body, burying himself balls deep in her tightness with a groan of pleasure that shot right through her with almost the same power as his cock filling her with his thickness. It hurt, but not a terrible hurt. The wizard’s initial thrust was a welcome pain, and she wanted more . . .

Much, much more.

********************************************
A/N: More to come. I know you’ve all been waiting and I’ve been slow and a bit off my game this weekend . . . sorry about that. :( But thanks for reading