Heroes (Edit, Not Update)

Chapter 12 ~ Behind Closed Doors

Those who believed Severus Tobias Snape to be a cold, unfeeling individual without warmth were sadly mistaken. But then again, they had nothing to show them otherwise, unlike one Hermione Granger who was repeatedly flooded by his fire. If asked about his perceived coldness, she would definitely tell the inquirer, “No, Severus is not cold. He’s reserved.”

Yes, he was reserved, but that ‘reserve’ fell during sex like ice from a blazing furnace.

Being with the wizard intimately was akin to being on the rim of an inactive volcano that suddenly and unexpectantly erupted. One couldn’t escape being engulfed and ultimately . . . burned.

Hermione had never been intimate with a wizard before Severus. She had dated Ron for three years, but they never made it to the point of sex. Although she cared about Ron deeply, even loved him in her way, it wasn’t the kind of love that inspired deep passion or desire. They were friends, but had little in common other than Harry and their history. Intellectually and emotionally, they were unsuitable for each other, neither caring for the interests of the other. And friendship just wasn’t a strong enough glue to keep them together, no matter how handsome or sweet Ron was. But Ron bounced back just fine. He began to date Lavender again, and now they were married with three children, ages two, two and one.

Lavender managed to get pregnant twice in the same year. Popping out babies the way she did made her the perfect Weasley.

Severus was neither handsome nor sweet, but he had depth, intelligence and he made Hermione feel special every time he let her into his world. She was the only one who could enter that lonely, complicated space and explore it, the only person who he would open up to and tell the motivations of his heart.

And she was the only witch on the face of the planet who made him long for connection. When she accepted him into her body, she grounded him, strengthened him, put him in touch with those aspects of life that had once been foreign to him. Hermione was the doorway to all he’d been denied. He kept it perpetually unlocked and available for entry.
Now he craved that connection. It was his one addiction.

Of course, no one saw this outwardly. Headmaster Snape seemed as dark and cold as ever, and many people wondered how Hermione could remain involved with such an icy, unfeeling man. It was even whispered that he had slipped her a powerful love potion to secure her, although no one dared to make that accusation to his face . . . although Sybil Trelawney believed the opposite . . . that Hermione had spelled him in some manner, but that was only because she carried a torch of her own for the Headmaster.

One he threw water on time and time again.

Once again, Hermione found herself overwhelmed by the raw passion in the wizard’s kiss. They had been together several years and still, when the former Potions master wanted her, his desire was always new, exciting and welcome. Severus covetously claimed her mouth, his lips and tongue devouring it, scouring it, the first taste of her endless, addictive bounty, his long pale fingers entwining in her hair, holding her secure as he kissed her. The wizard’s kiss always seemed to scream the message, ”You belong to me.”

And if Hermione didn’t pick up on it, he’d tell her in no uncertain terms, then set about showing her in an unmistakably way, jealously possessing every part of her.

He wasn’t a brutal lover, but a thorough one . . . a man who paid attention to every nuance, every movement, every touch, every sound, every expression on Hermione’s face to guide him, to tell him what gave her the most pleasure, determined no other man would ever lure her away from him because he was less than what she needed. He was all she would ever need.

It was as if Hermione was an intricate, complex potion Severus wished to brew to perfection using a careful combination of physical techniques to stir her senses, make her simmer, increasing his heat and bringing her slowly but unmistakably to a ready boil, then immersing himself deep inside her heat and setting their magic free.

Hermione shuddered as one pale hand loosened its grip in her hair, slid slowly down her neck and over her shoulder, deftly snagging the thin strap of her gown and taking it down her upper arm before moving to her waist, slipping over her hip and down to her thigh, gathering the silk and hoisting it upward before releasing it, the hand now caressing her belly before smoothing over her soft firm breast and grasping it lightly, squeezing gently, palming its roundness as the wizard let out a growl against her lips as her nipple hardened beneath his palm.

He pulled away from her mouth, looking into her brown eyes. He loved the passion reflected back at him, the desire that he could clearly see in her glistening, half-lidded orbs. She didn’t see him as a gaunt, unattractive, greasy, unfeeling bastard. She saw what was behind those strongly raised defenses, what was behind the pale face, lank hair and sharp features staring back at her. She cared nothing for the surface . . . but what was beneath the surface. The courage, the strength, the vulnerability.

The man.

To Hermione Granger, Severus Tobias Snape was beautiful.

Severus kissed her again, then slowly pulled down the other strap, kissing her shoulder tenderly as he continued to caress her breast through the thin fabric of her gown, then rising to his knees, the sheet falling from his lean, scarred body and slowly pulled her gown down over her breasts and belly, Hermione lifting her hips so he could draw it further down over her thighs, calves, ankles and feet, tossing it carelessly out of the bed as he looked down at her body.

”I don’t know why you bother dressing for bed on nights like this,” he said to her softly.

”I like you to undress me,” she replied, reaching for him.

“If that is the case, my dear, then we have a decidedly mutual interest,” he purred, letting her pull him down and resuming his kisses, Hermione sighing into his mouth as that slender, but hard body covered hers, his warm mouth beginning its descent and worship of her skin, suckling, kissing, licking and tasting every inch of her, drinking in her scent and softness.

Severus listened to the witch’s purrs and mewls of pleasure as his mouth moved over her skin, and he let his fingers graze her thighs before coming to rest at her core, gently delving into her moistness, Hermione letting out soft moans as he manipulated her delicate center. He was always gentle and focused, never rubbing at her as if she had no nerve endings, but finding her sweet spot and driving her to the edge with his touch. His hands were just as practiced and sure when attending her as when he brewed, knowing just what to add to the process . . . and when.

It was only when she let out that first cry of manipulated release, that he lowered himself to drink at her overflowing fountain, parting her undulating thighs, his lips and tongue paying homage to her sexuality at the apex of the temple that was Hermione Granger, despite the fact that at this point the witch was attempting to tear his hair out by the roots as she wantonly pulled him against her core.

There was some pain with this pleasure, but Severus welcomed her unbridled passion and did nothing to resist, but accommodated her, getting as close and delving as deep as possible, his face covered with her juices, using his nose to stimulate her as well as his mouth, the scent of Hermione’s arousal and release filling his nostrils as other parts of him filled with even more blood in anticipation.

He didn’t miss a drop of her honey, cleaning her skin and folds with his tongue thoroughly before continuing his descent, kissing her thighs and moving down her legs, ignoring her protests as he usually did when she begged him to get down to it, as the wizard continued enjoying her body, running his mouth over the balls of her feet and heels, slipping his tongue between her toes and suckling each digit as Hermione squealed in protest.

With a smirk, Severus flipped Hermione to her belly and began his torturous ascent back up her body, Hermione attempting to rise to her knees and present herself, only to feel his hand splayed against the small of her back, keeping her down as he ran his supple tongue between the cleft of her cheeks.

”Severus! You bastard!” she sobbed, the wizard quirking his mouth for a moment before continuing to cover her body with licks and kisses. He loved when she lost it for him, craved him so hungrily that she became angry.

But he had the cure for her anger. Oh yes. Eleven thick, dripping inches of cure masterfully administered, guaranteed to feed the witch’s need.

His tongue tapped a pattern on her spine as he moved upward, shifting his body now, so his swollen organ rested on her ass, heavy and hot, Hermione squirming under him. Raising himself on his hands, he pressed his loins downward and rubbed his cock over her soft flesh sensuously, his hair swinging around his face gently as he rolled his pelvis teasingly. Hermione’s skin glimmered with perspiration, she was so heated and ready.

This was how it always was with Severus, a slow, measured foreplay that nearly drove her out of her head . . . and the foreplay was always one-sided. Except for kisses around his face, neck and shoulders and intimate caresses of his slim body and hardened organ, Severus did not allow her to do more. As passionate as he was for the witch, he had . . . hang-ups that dated back to his service for the Order and he never wanted to see his Hermione doing what so many women were forced to do at the revels. He knew for the witch it would be an act of love, but his psyche was damaged and fellatio was not an act he wanted to see the woman he loved perform.

For Severus Snape, it was all about Hermione’s pleasure until he actually immersed himself into the bliss that was her body. It was then he received his reward, his blessing, that intimate connection he had never known before her. He had sex of course, but nothing as affecting as what he experienced with his one and only lover. It wasn’t release for him with Hermione, it was finding that ‘hold’ he’d been missing all of his dark life and clinging to it, clinging to her. Whenever he touched her intimately, he wanted to be sure she knew how much he appreciated her, and to date, Hermione never once felt used or taken advantage of by the wizard.

Severus Snape knew a good thing when he had it, and he intended to keep this witch as long as he maintained breath in his body.

He lowered himself to her body, pulling her hair aside and letting his lips rest against her ear, running his tongue around the shell of it and rewarded with a groan and a shudder.

”Now?” he breathed into her ear, “like this, Hermione?”

”Gods, yes, Severus,” Hermione gasped, aching for his entry, her body feeling as if it were clutching in upon itself with need.

”As you wish,” he purred, pushing up to his knees, his hands encircling her waist, Hermione rising on all fours and pressing back against that thick, meaty extremity that held the answer to her need. She rolled against him, and Severus hissed.

”Anxious little witch,” he breathed, pulling back and grasping his rigid cock with one hand and positioning himself at her core, Hermione letting out a moan at his thickness pressed against her entrance.

”Yesssss,” Severus breathed, slowly thrusting forward and entering the tight, wet sleeve of her body, Hermione letting out a sigh of pleasure as his hardness and girth filled her inch by inch, giving her the connection she longed for.

Severus grasped her waist again and held himself deep inside Hermione, feeling her life pulsing around him, soft, compelling, his own answer for his own need for connection. He loved this initial moment, when their flesh met and became one, securely sheathed in not only the warmth of her body, but the warmth of her Love.

”Move, Severus,” Hermione urged him, her voice quavering as she felt him smooth his hand over her buttock gently. Then he drew back, almost slipping out of the witch, and thrust, giving her a long, deep, satisfying stroke.

”Oh yessssss,” Hermione hissed as his cock slid through her, a luscious inner caress checked by her cervix. “Oh gods, Severus.”

The tremor in her voice was all the Headmaster needed to hear to know she was at her peak, and he began to make love to her in the manner she liked, starting off slowly, with straight, deep thrusts, his hands slipping over her body artfully, then increasing his speed, bouncing her body gently, leaning over her and telling her to turn her head and kiss him as he thrust a bit harder, Hermione crying out and doing as he asked, her kisses wild and uncontrolled as he possessed her body, now throwing in the twists and whirls that she liked, corkscrewing his cock into her body, stretching and stroking her at different angles, Hermione urging him on as his loins slapped against her.

He fell to the side, wrapping his long arms around her body, locking his mouth to her throat and spreading his legs wide, filling her over and over, his eyes rolling up with pleasure as her pussy clutched and sucked and bore down on him, the witch tightening up purposely, wanting to feel every bit of his girth as he took her, his hands moving to her breast and holding them, his thumbs flicking over her nipples as she cried out, her delight increased by his crooning voice, soft, deep and pleasure-filled as he buried his cock in her deeper. Gods, Severus always sounded sexy, but when he was fucking her . . . there was no measure to just how wonderful and exciting that silky timbre was.

Severus rolled to his back and Hermione wasted no time mounting him, facing away and rising up and down on her heels, controlling the depth and speed this time, driving down on him passionately as Severus held on, his hands cupping her ass, helping to lift her, his lips drawn back from his teeth in a grimace of delight as he watched his glistening tool disappear and re-emerge from between her soft, rippling cheeks, covered with her lubrication. He could feel himself tightening, his balls beginning to draw up as he approached his peak. He gently pushed a gasping, sloe-eyed, completely gone Hermione off him, rolled her to her back and mounted her, trapping her legs over his arms and thrusting deep inside her, his body going into automatic as he buried himself completely in the witch, fast and deep, his face in a dark scowl and perspiration dripping off his body on to Hermione as he fought to keep going, to hold his climax back just another minute, a few more seconds until . . . until . . .

Hermione let out a keen and gushed over him, his cock squelching through her as he was engulfed in a delicious torrent of pulsing heat, and then . . . it was his turn and the dark wizard let out a series of grunts as his release shot through him, spurting hot thick come into Hermione’s welcoming body, the witch shuddering beneath him as he stared down at her, her lips pursed and nostrils flared with satisfaction, her eyes closed as she felt him orgasm and fill her. Severus dropped down, kissing Hermione weakly, letting her legs down and feeling himself deflate inside her warmth. This was the part he wished never had to happen, the part when they separated, where they became individuals again.

As he kissed Hermione and felt her arms encircle his neck as she whispered endearments between lip contact, Severus thought he’d soon have to marry her.

Very soon.

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A/N: Sorry this took so long to post. It was a bit hard coming . . . I hope it was all right. Thanks for reading.