Yuleride

A/N: I rarely put notes at the beginning of the chapter, but my song choice for this chapter is one that might not be completely perfect in your estimation, but I remember it because it was my first make-out song. Lol. It was playing when I ‘fell in love’ with my children’s father. We didn’t have sex to it. I wasn’t doing “sex” then. Just warming up. But the making out was . . . wow. Unreal. It was like the entire world just disappeared and it was only us and this powerful, all-consuming attraction to each other. So bear with me for this one guys. Thanks. ***

Chapter 13 ~ Starting Out

The first thing Snape noticed was Hermione was kissing him back now, and with some gusto, sucking on his thin lips as if she were trying to consume them. It was a pity Ronald Weasley kept her so starved when she had the capacity to be so passionate.

Ah well. Weasley’s loss, Snape’s gain. At least for tonight. He hesitated as Hermione ran her hand through his hair, her nails lightly scratching his scalp. Gods, that felt wonderful. He let out a little growl of pleasure and pulled back from her mouth.

”Aren’t you afraid that your hand will be covered in oil?” he asked her, “I am known as ‘the greasy git.’

Hermione looked at her hand. It was fine. She then studied his hair, drawing her hand through it again, slowly. It fell away from her fingers in soft, fine strands.

”It’s not greasy. I don’t know why it looks like that, but it isn’t oily at all. Maybe it’s what you use to wash it or because it’s so fine,” she said softly.

”Perhaps,” Snape replied, slowly licking the dampness from her forehead and pursing his lips. He looked at her, a bit of amusement on his face.

“You didn’t seem to mind being ‘restrained’ for your own good,” he said to Hermione, who colored.

She had been shocked Snape held her wrists so he could have his way with her, but . . . secretly . . . she kind of liked him doing it.

”Have you been restrained before?” Snape asked her, his mouth turned down as he imagined Ron using her body.

”Only once,” Hermione said, her eyes clouding. “I let Ron tie me up. We didn’t get very far because Ron suddenly pulled out all these ‘things’ I didn’t even know he had.”

Snape’s brow furrowed.

”Things? What kind of things?” the Potions master asked.

“Clamps. A big yellow dildo with bumps all over it. A . . . a butt plug. Some other things I’m too squicked to even describe,” Hermione said with a shudder.

*******************************************************
FOR STREAMING INTERACTIVE MUSIC CLICK HERE
http://www.theburningpen.com/Yule/m.m3u
*******************************************************

“Surprise!” Snape said mockingly, sounding as if he had sprung out from behind a piece of furniture on an unsuspecting someone’s birthday.

Actually, Albus tried to give him a surprise birthday party once. Just once. You didn’t surprise Severus Snape and expect him to simply clutch his heart. The singed and aching staff members quickly departed, most of them limping from the room-wide spell he cast.

”I told you it was a bad idea,” Minerva scolded Albus as she tottered out of the staff room holding her back, the end of Snape’s wand still dripping magic.

Snape thought it had been a wonderful birthday surprise, although he was glad he was spared the party. He had wanted to hex some of the staff members for years. Particularly Minerva, the sanctimonious old bird.

“So, I take it you aren’t into ‘toys,” Snape purred at Hermione, thinking if Ron had prepared her more and let her know what he wanted to try, Hermione might have reacted better.

“I don’t know if I am or not. I was so angry at Ronald, I didn’t want to try anything. You just don’t whip things like that out on a witch! Especially when she’s tied up and helpless! If he even touched me with one of those things I would have hexed . . . ”

Hermione was scowling now and Snape chuckled, stopping her from continuing her tirade by kissing her.

”Well, there are no toys here, only the real thing,” he said softly, shifting his body against Hermione and sliding his length over her core.

Hermione sighed, pressing against the wizard’s loins and letting her hands slide down his thin back, over his scars . . . Snape suddenly stiffening at the contact. Hermione felt him tense, but continued caressing him until he seemed to accept his scars didn’t repulse her, and once again began moving against her, more urgently this time as he kissed and caressed her in preparation, letting the music of her voice wash over him, desire causing him to throb as he moved against her body. He needed her softness.

Now.

Hermione gasped as Snape lifted his upper body and ground himself against her, whirling his pelvis, his eyes like two dark suns holding their own glow. His face was contorted with hunger as he reached between their bodies and shifted back on his knees so he could settle against Hermione’s opening. He felt huge as he rested the engorged head of his organ against her wet core. It was soft, warm and welcoming. He let out a hiss and looked up at Hermione, pressing forward slowly, feeling the witch’s body resist slightly, then swallow him down a third of the way, her inner flesh gripping his rigid flesh like a velvet fist as he slid inside her.

Hermione’s mouth dropped open and she let out a purring moan as she felt Snape enter her, stretching her body around his girth, filling her. Damn, he was so big and felt so right.

“Mmmmm,” Snape breathed, his nostrils flared as he looked down at the witch and pushed deeper, slowly coming to rest against her cervix. He couldn’t fit inside her completely, but he didn’t need to.

This was enough. More than enough.

”Open your eyes. I want to see them,” Snape hissed, drawing back and stroking the witch gently, Hermione letting out another moan of pleasure as she opened her eyes and looked up at him, orbs glistening.

“Now you’re going to learn what it is to be appreciated, witch. Hopefully, you’ll never accept anything less from any wizard again,” he breathed, lowering himself on to Hermione completely and reaching down to pull up her knees on either side of his slender frame, then slipping his arms under her shoulders, his hands cradling her head, embracing Hermione as he locked his mouth to hers and began to thrust slowly, filling her again and again.

The couple undulated sensuously on the sofa, Snape’s pale body flexing in counterpoint to the witch’s movements. He was sure and deliberate, his lips moving over her mouth, throat and shoulders, his hands controlling the motions of her head as his own bent first this way, then that as he delivered slow, searing kisses, lapping at her heat, letting one hand slip to her thigh, caressing it as he claimed her.

Hermione sighed and moaned with pleasure, unable to do anything other than feel and respond to Snape’s ministrations. Snape made no sound except for the occasional exhalation of breath. Snape stopped kissing Hermione, letting his cheek rest against hers as he held her, focusing on the feel of her body caressing and accepting him, keeping up his slow steady possession, Hermione’s fluids bathing him in heat as he pierced her again and again, pressing his toes into the arm of the sofa and using it to control his strength and depth without hurting the witch.

As Hermione lay under Snape, pleasure rippling over her with every tender, fulfilling thrust, she knew she’d never be happy with Ron again. Not this way. Reflexively, she tightened her hold on the Potions master.

”Oh Severus,” she hissed as the wizard twisted his hips, changing the angle of his penetration deliciously. Gods, he was so good at this.

The wizard began alternating his strokes, changing angles, rotating his pelvis on occasion, delving into Hermione completely, never breaking contact, never letting her feel as if she were alone in this coupling, this experience, his mouth finding hers again. He felt her sleeve clutch at him spasmodically and broke his kiss, falling still.

Hermione’s eyes flew open, liquid and wet as she looked up at the dark wizard, who wore a sober expression as he looked down at her. He felt Hermione pull at the small of his back at first to make him fall back into his stroke, then when he wouldn’t, she grasped his tight buttocks and yanked at him.

He smirked.

”I take it shagging me is not the chore you believed it would be,” he purred down at the witch, wincing a bit as she rolled her pelvis, whirling his cock inside her and receiving some of the sensation she longed for.

“I think you’re ready for a slightly modified version of the Missionary position,” the wizard said, kissing Hermione softly, then lifting his upper body, holding himself up on one hand, staying securely embedded inside her and slipping his right arm under her thigh and pulling it upward, extending her leg and resting it against his right shoulder. Hermione’s other leg slipped off the sofa, her left foot resting on the floor.

Snape began to move again, the new position giving him a greater range of motion as he pulled back so only the very tip of his cock remained in Hermione, who let out a cry as she felt him almost withdraw, then a delighted keen as he pushed all that hot, hard meat back inside her.

”Yes, you like that, Hermione,” Snape breathed, then began to move a bit faster, still gentle, still deep but controlled, watching Hermione’s responses as he bit his lip. His shaft glistened in the low torchlight and he buried himself between her soft thighs, his possession smooth and running his lips over her leg, slipping his fingers between her toes, thrusting his digits through them.

Hermione had never felt anything like it and hissed like a cat. Snape’s eyes narrowed with pleasure at the sound. Yes, he was reaching her. Maybe this would help her decision, knowing that there would be nights like this between them if she agreed to leave her world and become part of his. Many nights like this one.

Snape jerked her body gently, Hermione gasping as he bumped lightly against her cervix, a satisfying check at the end of each luscious slide of his thick shaft. The wizard suddenly straightened and rose to both knees, grabbing Hermione’s left leg and resting it against his left shoulder then sitting back on his heels, shifting forward, his knees wide so the witch’s body was accessible. Hermione stared up at his slender body, erect between the V her legs formed against his shoulders, his hair nearly hiding his face. Snape shook it back so she could see him, his lip curled slightly as he began thrusting again, his black eyes dropping to the juncture of their bodies, his flesh pale against Hermione’s darker tone. Snape’s hands slid over Hermione’s bouncing breasts and grasped them gently, the wizard caressing and fondling her fullness, tweaking her nipples as he pumped his pelvis, driving into her warmth a bit harder. Hermione grasped his forearms reflexively, her nails digging into his flesh.

Snape hissed, but didn’t pull away. The witch didn’t realize what she was doing . . . besides, the slight pain was a bit of a turn on.

Hermione’s brown bushy hair was starting to form ringlets, growing damp from her perspiration. Snape reflexively reached out and ran his fingers through it, then over her cheek and lips, Hermione catching his digits between her teeth for a moment, then sucking on them gently. Snape allowed this for a moment, then withdrew his hand. If the witch kept this up, then “reciprocal” would definitely be on the table.

Suddenly, Hermione’s body clamped down on him with a powerful pressure, choking his cock and trapping him.

”Shit!” Snape gasped as her orgasm rolled over him, her inner flesh clutching and sucking at him, trying to take him over the edge as well. Snape’s face contorted so severely, he looked as if he were in a rage as he fought back the urge to come.

”No you don’t witch,” he said through gritted teeth as Hermione’s head twisted back and forth in the throes of bliss. “I’m nowhere near done with you.”

With a supreme effort, Snape pulled out of Hermione with a pop, the inner grip had been so tight. He rolled the witch on her side and slid behind her, lying full length on the sofa, slipping his right arm under her body and curling it around her waist, pulling her tight against him then lifting her left leg and entering her from behind. It was a very tight fit since she was still coming down from her orgasm and he groaned. The wizard pulled her hair aside and locked his lips to her moist throat as he held her open, stroking her hungrily now, Hermione beginning to cry out again, his penetration cutting through her haze and once again lifting her to the heights.

Dear gods, did the pleasure ever stop with this man?

As she felt the wizard’s sinewy arm tighten around her belly and one pale hand lock into her hair roughly as he flexed and drove into her, Hermione knew that although the pleasure would eventually come to an end . . . it wouldn’t be soon.

**********************************************
A/N/N: Thanks for reading.