Yuleride

Chapter 12 ~ Preliminaries

Snape paused to dim the torches a bit more. Hermione frowned slightly.

“Why did you do that?” she asked him. “I can hardly see you.”

Snape worked on his buttons, but didn’t answer her.

”I want to know why you lowered the lights, Severus,” she said to him again, only barely able to make out his white skin in contrast to his opening robes.

”I did it to spare you,” he said in a low voice. “I am badly scarred. I am no perfect specimen like your Mr. Weasley. My body has been whipped and torn over the years.”

He stopped unbuttoning his robes when he spoke and was now looking at her, his eyes narrowed.

“I want to see you,” Hermione said to the wizard. “Scars and all. I have a right to see you, don’t I? Considering what we are about to do.”

Snape’s jaw tightened, a tick forming in his cheek. He used his wand to raise the torches a bit more so Hermione could see him, then he finished opening his robes silently, letting them fall.

Hermione’s eyes dropped to his loins and widened. He was wearing a rather worn pair of cotton briefs. Well, that answered the brief or boxer question. Ron always claimed Snape didn’t wear anything under his robes when they attended Hogwarts. Little did he suspect Hermione would find out first-hand.

But it wasn’t the briefs that made Hermione stare at the wizard’s loins, it was the huge outline of his cock straining against the fabric, the length of it extending beyond his hip. Hermione swallowed and allowed her eyes to look at the rest of him. Yes, he was thin, his limbs corded with sharp joints. A few scars streaked his belly and chest, which was also rather thin, but his musculature was clearly defined.

”You don’t have that many scars,” she said softly.

Instead of replying, Snape turned around and Hermione stifled a gasp at the numerous raised welts on his back. There were scars on top of scars, some very wide as if he had been sliced open rather than whipped.

“Oh Severus,” Hermione said in a low voice as he turned back around, his mouth in a tight line.

“For the glory of the Order,” he said bitterly, his face slightly shadowed by his hair as he looked down at her. “I will carry the marks of my dual service . . .”

Here Snape extended his left arm, his Dark Mark clearly visible against his pale skin.

”. . .until the day I die.”

There was something underlying the dark wizard’s pronouncement that saddened Hermione. It wasn’t self-pity, it was something . . . something deeper. Something dark that she knew would never, ever leave him. No it wasn’t what he said. Hermione was face to face with horror his life had been. Out of everyone that dealt with Voldemort, it was Snape who had suffered the most. Those who were blatant enemies met death quickly, while he suffered torture. How often had the wizard longed for death? How did he ever keep going, keep spying?

”You’re nowhere near death tonight, Severus,” Hermione said to him. “And you no longer serve anyone but yourself. That part of your life is past. Dead.”

”It will never be ‘dead’ Hermione. I live with the ghosts every day of my life,” he growled. “Here, in this place, they are all resurrected. They are in the walls of the castle, in the tiles, in the corridors. Beasts of memory, wraiths of despair . . . they are always here,” the wizard said, his voice hollow.

”You’re going to leave them behind, Severus, when you leave Hogwarts and start a new life,” Hermione said to him. “One full of challenge and excitement. The ghosts will fade. I know they will.”

Snape blinked down at her, an odd expression on his pale face.

”I don’t want to leave everything behind,” he breathed, climbing on to the couch and mounting the witch’s body.

Only Hermione’s knickers and Snape’s briefs separated their flesh. Hermione gasped as she felt his erection pressing against her. He was much larger than Ron. No wonder the Potions master was so slender. All the excess body mass seemed to have gathered in his cock.

Snape’s dark hair fell around his face as he looked down at Hermione, his eyes glinting.

”I would have never expected such a Christmas gift,” he said to the witch, “Are you ready for your Yuleride?”

Slightly disoriented, Hermione stared up at him blankly.

”Yuleride?” she repeated in a whisper.

Snape smirked.

”Usually at this time of year couples take a ride through the countryside in a sleigh drawn by horses, but in this case Hermione, you are the landscape I will be exploring . . . and as far as being horse-drawn . . .”

Snape pressed his thickness against Hermione meaningfully. Hermione let out a little groan as he moved against her.

” . . . I’ll see what I can do,” he crooned, capturing her mouth again.

If Snape’s kisses had affected her before when they were fully dressed, it was nothing compared to feeling him flesh to flesh. Snape didn’t just kiss with his lips, his entire body was involved, the wizard moving against her sensuously, using his body to stimulate her, his hardness against her softness. He didn’t just possess her mouth, he devoured it, and Hermione could feel his need for her as clearly as if he were speaking it. And then he began to caress her with those marvelous, meticulous hands of his, first starting with her sides, her hips, her thighs . . . his fingers slightly clutching, smoothing, tapping her skin, learning her contours. When he let his fingers trace the curve of her breast, Hermione gasped into his mouth, the contact was so electric. She wanted him to touch her, to feel his warm, roughened hands around her fullness. Hermione arched instinctively, her knickers becoming moist and damp, the scent of her arousal slowly rising.

Snape began to move lower, suckling, nibbling and licking the witch’s skin, moving over her collarbone and shoulders, entwining one of her hands in his as he slipped lower, his warm, soft, hungry mouth sliding over the mound of her breast, then capturing her nipple, sucking gently, sending thrills through her body, her peaks taut and tight under his swirling tongue.

”Dear gods,” Hermione moaned as he moved to her other breast, laving it, releasing her hand and gently pushing both together, suckling both nipples at once, nearly sending Hermione into complete meltdown. Ron had never taken this much time with her body.

Snape loved her responses. They were honest, true and so compelling. Hermione’s soft moans fell on his ears and all he could think of was eliciting the next passionate sigh, the next helpless groan of pleasure. Her skin was soft and supple beneath his hands. It had been so long since he’d touched a woman. And even longer since he’d tasted one.

Slowly, teasingly, Snape worked his way down Hermione’s body, lingering over her soft belly, tonguing her navel, his hands, mouth and lips staying in contact, keeping her primed and excited, moving beneath him, totally lost to his possession.

Snape slowly slipped his hands under the elastic of Hermione’s knickers, rising to his knees.

”Lift your hips,” the wizard rasped at the undulating witch, his eyes locked to her thighs.

Through her haze of desire, Hermione helplessly obeyed him, feeling the wizard sliding the fabric down her legs, over her calves and ankles, then removing them. Snape gazed down at her soft, downy brown bush, the fine hair slightly curled, the scent of her juices making his mouth water. He swallowed and licked his lips. He had no intentions on making Hermione reciprocate. If they became lovers, there would be time for that. Tonight, it was her awakening that mattered.

Snape gently pushed Hermione’s thighs apart wider, then lightly stroked her labia with his fingertips, testing the proverbial waters. Hermione buckled at the intimate contact, looking down at the wizard. He was on his knees, his head leaning forward slightly, his hair almost covering his features, one hand between her legs, petting her. Then he looked up, his eyes hungry as they met hers. Hermione watched as he withdrew his hand and deliberately brought it to his mouth, fingertips glistening. She felt she couldn’t breathe as he inserted his fingers into his mouth, a look of pure bliss on his face as he tasted her for the first time.

“Mr. Weasley hasn’t developed a man’s palate,” he breathed at her. “You’re as sweet as nectar. Let me taste your flower.”

Snape leaned forward and slid his lean body back, bringing his face close to Hermione’s core, breathing deeply before parting her with two fingers. Her inner flesh was moist and pink, the clitoris rigid and swollen from arousal.

”Beautiful,” he hissed, lowering his mouth to her pussy and running his tongue around her clit.

”Oh . . . oh shit!” Hermione gasped as she felt his tongue caress her, thrusting her pelvis forward and grabbing at his hair. She caught a hank of it and pulled hard as he began to bathe her hungrily, collecting her juices and suckling her clit. It was painful and Snape pulled away from her core.

“I see I am going to have to restrain you,” he hissed, wrestling her hand from his hair, then clasping her wrists together and holding them tightly with one hand as he returned to his destination, Hermione buckling and crying out as he attacked her again, his tongue probing, licking, swirling before he pressed his entire mouth to her entrance and sucked hard, Hermione squealing as he thrust his tongue inside her.

”It’s too much!” she cried out.

But the wizard wasn’t listening. He was drinking her down, gorging himself on her lubrication, small groans of pleasure issuing from him as Hermione’s thighs clamped around his head, the witch arching as the pressure inside her grew.

Snape lapped at her unmercifully, determined to bring her to the place she was trying to fight, pulling her soft flesh with his lips, kissing her pussy as if it were another mouth.

”No! No!” Hermione cried out as the swelling of pleasure increased. It was so sweet, so all-compassing it was as if she were losing hold of herself, ballooning, growing, expanding to an impossible height . . .

”SEVERUS!” she screamed as she exploded in a mind-bending orgasm, her release gushing into the wizard’s mouth, Snape feeling a strong sense of satisfaction as he swallowed her hot, musky juices down, his lips and chin glistening as Hermione keened and writhed, her sleeve clutching around his tongue as he slipped it inside her, seeking more of her lusciousness.

He held Hermione’s wrists securely as he licked down every drop she exuded, cleaning her inner thighs as well until he could taste nothing but skin and Hermione’s motions subsided, her breasts rising and falling as she calmed. Finally, he pulled away from her core, nostrils still flared and released her wrists, pulling himself upward until he lay on top of her again, staring down at her flushed face, half-lidded eyes and slack mouth.

“Delicious,” he said to Hermione. “A man would have to be mad not to partake of your honey, witch.”

Then he kissed her, sharing her flavor, his mouth welcomed against her lips.

”You’re . . . amazing,” Hermione breathed against his mouth. “I’ve never . . .”

“You will experience other things you haven’t before . . . I promise you,” Snape said softly, once again rising to his knees and this time removing his own briefs, lifting one leg then the other, sliding them down his pale limbs and dropping them to the floor. His cock stuck straight out in all its pale, swollen glory, the foreskin drawn back and a drop of murky liquid at the tip. Hermione stared at his erection hungrily. She was ready for him, horse-hung or not.

Severus Snape had shown her a side to sex she never knew before and he hadn’t even shagged her yet. She held out her arms to him.

“Come here,” Hermione breathed, and Snape’s dark eyes lit up with delight at her command. He fell forward, resting on the cushion of her body, claiming her mouth once more.

Yes, Hermione Granger was a quick study.

He always knew she was.

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A/N: Mmmm. Thanks for reading.