Yuleride

Chapter 14 ~ Continuance


Snape suddenly shifted, drawing Hermione upward and sliding to a sitting position, his back against the sofa, Hermione sitting on his cock, facing away from him, her legs on either side of his as the wizard shifted downward so his hips rested on the edge of the cushions and Hermione’s feet were on the floor. He caught a firm hold of her waist, his pale fingers encircling it, lifting the witch.

”Oh my gods,” Hermione gasped as the wizard pushed her upward, his shaft sliding partially out of the witch, then gently let her back down, Hermione moaning as he penetrated her. Snape held her aloft carefully so he wouldn’t go too deep.

”Show me how you like it, Hermione,” Snape crooned. “Ride me, witch. I’m all yours.”

Snape began to show Hermione how to move and the witch caught on quickly, bouncing on the wizard’s cock, Snape hissing like his house namesake as he felt and watched the witch surrender to her own needs and desires. She was a lusty little thing once she got going.

“Yes! Yes!” he encouraged Hermione, caressing her back and fondling her breasts as she rode him, crying out with pleasure, rolling her buttocks and losing herself in pleasure. With Ron she was always on the receiving end. This was wonderful, gods, the professor felt amazing. Hermione threw her head back and let out what could only be described as a howl as she wound her hips and ground down on the wizard, who let out a choked cry of his own at her ardor.

Suddenly, Snape pulled her back against him, wrapping both arms around her arms pinning them down to her sides and taking over, thrusting into her hungrily, Hermione’s breasts bouncing, unable to do anything other than cry out as the wizard took his fill, pumping hard and fast, his face in a snarl of pleasure as he squelched through her juices, his arms slipping over her wet skin. They were almost cheek to cheek, the back of Hermione’s head resting against the wizard’s shoulder, her hair sticking to his face. She could hear Snape’s low groans as he lost himself in her soft body.

After about three minutes of steady pummeling, Snape stopped moving, Hermione panting against him, her hips rolling urgently, seeking continuance.

”On a scale of one to five, Hermione, what grade would you give my shagging abilities?” the wizard purred in her ear, his soft voice thrilling the witch as he gave her a gentle thrust to urge her to respond.

”A ten,” she sighed, “Keep going, Severus.”

Hermione was rewarded with a low, sexy chuckle from the pale wizard.

”I see I’ve sufficiently managed to shut down your logic center,” Snape responded, his lips curling in a sardonic smile against the shell of her ear.

Suddenly he rolled with her, very carefully, Hermione ending up face first in the sofa, Snape curled around her back. He released her arms and widened his legs, grasping the back of the sofa.

“Position change,” Snape said and began to stroke her from behind, slowly and deliberately with long, deep strokes using his girth and length to full advantage, literally purring as he put it to Hermione. He let go of the couch and caught one of Hermione’s arms then the other, pulling them to her back and pinning them there with one hand, then gathering her hair into his other hand, making a fist and pulling her head back, Hermione’s mouth going slack as she felt him lock her down and drive into her harder and deeper.

“Oh shit!” Hermione cried out as Snape sped up, his black eyes resting on her rippling buttocks as he thrust his pelvis forward and back, bouncing Hermione, yanking her hair gently from time to time as if it were reins. Then he let her hair go, and Hermione’s head fell forward. But only for a moment . . .

”Thwack!”

”Arrrgh!” Hermione cried out as Snape slapped her buttock with a flat palm, stinging her flesh, her head flying up.

”Are you a naughty witch?” he breathed at her, stroking her with his cock then slapping her ass again, watching it jiggle and grow slightly pink.

Oh gods this was kinky, but . . . damn it . . . she liked it. She looked over her shoulder at the wizard. His hair was clinging to the sides of his face from his perspiration, his black eyes glittering as he looked back at her, a lustful sneer on his face as he moved rhythmically, piercing her again and again. He was like some pale avenging angel/devil his thin frame flexing.

”Yes! Yes, Severus! I’m a naughty witch!” Hermione gasped as he hit her cervix, then slapped her ass again, this time the other buttock, her arms still pinned behind her.

“Restraint becomes you, witch,” Snape gasped, then starting spanking and shagging her in earnest, his stroke and his sting taking Hermione over, the wizard delighted she had such a dark side and he was the one who discovered it. Maybe she could take a bit more roughness.

Snape gave her quite a beating, but not more than she could take, pulling his blows and smoothing the sting as he spanked her. But he put his tool to her ardently, stroking deep. By her moans and cries and generous lubrication, Hermione loved it, and that boded well.

Finally Snape stopped spanking and stroking the witch. Hermione’s plump bum was a pretty pink now and the wizard eyed it appreciatively, running his hand over it gently before pulling Hermione up against him, sliding her hair aside and kissing her throat.

”Am I too much, Hermione?” he asked her softly, aware that the witch wasn’t used to such treatment . . . or such stamina. He was still hard as diamond and he pressed his length into her soft cheeks. Hermione let out a little hiss. Everything around her seemed to be part of some crazy, erotic movie or dream in which Severus Snape was the surprisingly talented star.

”Am I too much, witch?” Snape asked her again, his voice a bit hard now as he ground his loins into her. “If I am, you’d better let me know. Silence is not your friend.”

Snape began caressing her belly with one hand, and fondling her breast with the other, moving against her, once again kissing and licking her neck, Hermione sighing helplessly at the feel of his lips, hands and hardness rubbing against her stinging buttocks. Snape let his hand slide down through her pubic hair and his talented fingers went to work. Hermione letting out a cry and attempting to grab at his hand, the feeling between her legs too intense.

Once again, Snape easily locked her wrists together with one hand and twiddled her unmercifully, Hermione arching against him, begging him to stop, a look of dark enjoyment in the wizard’s eyes as he brought her to yet another peak, licking her release off his digits then rising and pulling Hermione up, turning her and capturing her lips again, pressing her into his lean body.

He began backing her up as he kissed her, walking the witch across the room, keeping her occupied with his kisses until the back of her buttocks hit his desk. Hermione’s eyes flew open and she let out a squeal as Snape lifted her and placed her on the desk, pulling her forward and moving between her thighs, stiff and ready for another go.

”Don’t you ever stop?” Hermione asked him softly as Snape lifted her arms and draped them around his neck.

”Eventually,” he purred, kissing her again, then pressing one hand to the small of her back to hold her steady as he lifted his cock and positioned himself against her.

He eased forward, black eyes locked to brown, Hermione letting out a moan as he entered her again, filling her with his hot, hard flesh. Snape rested his forehead against Hermione’s, his eyes still locked to hers and began to move slowly, pulling her forward into his thrust, fucking her face to face.

“You feel exquisite,” Snape breathed at the witch, “and you are . . . so lovely and passionate, Hermione. Too passionate for what you have now. Come with me. I will be good to you.”

Snape arched into the witch and held himself there, straining against her, getting as close and deep inside the witch as he could, Hermione gasping at the pressure.

“Say you’ll come with me,” Snape groaned as she pulsed around him.

”You . . . you . . . this isn’t fair . . . don’t ask me to choose now . . . not now . . . Severus . . .” Hermione gasped, her lips only inches from his.

“Fairness be damned. I want you with me,” he breathed at her, grasping her waist now, pulling back and driving into the witch, making her gasp and buckle, her arms tightening around his neck.

“You have . . . to wait,” Hermione hissed as he drove into her again.

Snape straightened, his face contorting as he looked at the witch.

”You will come with me!” he snarled, pushing Hermione down to her back and leaning over her, capturing her mouth and beginning to ride her hard, jerking the witch roughly over the desk as she cried out into his mouth.

All Severus Snape wanted to do was possess this stubborn, maddening woman under him, wrapped around him. He wanted to break her will, take her over, make her see that he was the one wizard who knew what she needed. That he was the one wizard who could set her free and plant her firmly on the path she was always meant to follow. The path to Greatness.

Snape slid his arms under Hermione’s legs and yanked them up, spreading the witch as wide as she would go, slipping his arms under her back and curling his hands over her shoulders so she was nearly doubled in half, her thighs trapped under his arms.

Hermione stared up at the wizard, her eyes glazed, her body lost, her mind whirling as Snape glared down at her, looking as cruel as he ever looked, but with a fire and purpose behind those glinting dark eyes. He wanted her. She could see it, feel it as the wizard began to move again, his hair swinging, his lips curling, his slender body tight and tense, sweat lending a sheen to his nearly alabaster skin as he stroked her, caressed her, filled her like Ron never could. This filling was more than physical although the professor was better endowed than her sweetheart. There was another kind of filling, an answer to a question she had refused to acknowledge, and once acknowledged, refused to answer. A sense of wholeness, a promise of completion, not just on this level, but on every level as Snape took her to the heights again.

No, he was no more handsome than he was at the beginning of this night, but he was much more desirable. How could he not be, taking her as he was, showing her that there was more to sex than simply serving as a vessel for a wizard’s lust? Oh, she felt his lust, how couldn’t she when he was driving into her in no uncertain terms, that pale face contorting, twisting, pleasure and near pain in his expression as he possessed her. It was easy to see it was not just lust, but work . . . he was working to bring her what she needed. This wasn’t one-sided. She knew Severus Snape, as selfish as the wizard appeared to be, would never allow their interactions to be less than mutually satisfying. He was a proud man, and his pride would never allow him to be anything less than a true lover. Yes, he wanted her to surrender, but that surrender meant nothing if she didn’t feel him. And that was the difference between the dark wizard and Ron. Ron only wanted sex. Snape wanted much more.

And here he was, dark, strong and affecting, taking and giving at the same time, wanting more for her and more for himself. Dear gods, she never knew it could be this way.

But now, now she did.

Snape felt Hermione’s body clamping down on him, but this time he couldn’t stop the hunch in his back, the urgency in his loins, the need for completion thrumming through him as Hermione let go one more time, bursting, her climax flowing over him like magma, her sweet voice hitting a high note that raced up his spine. He had wanted to do so much more, but the dam had burst and the tide rose too high. With a cry close to despair the wizard slammed into the luscious witch beneath him almost to the hilt and released, his seed pouring through him, filling her, bathing her with his heat and spent passion as he gasped, shuddering, once again claiming that sweet mouth, his tongue delving into that sweet heat, clutching her close as the world spun wildly, taking him with it.

Severus Snape and Hermione Granger flowed together, connecting, merging and holding that space for one eternal moment before falling away into their separate selves, panting and holding each other . . . complete.

Snape rested against Hermione’s softness, finally pulling away from her mouth and looking down at the witch. She was soaked and beautiful. He could see many nights looking down on her this way, his heart full and satisfied because he had someone to share his dreams with, someone of a kindred spirit.

If only she’d agree to come with him.

”So beautiful,” Snape breathed, “and so wasted. You see it now, don’t you Hermione? What you have missed, and what you can have with me. The way is clear, witch. The only possible way for you to find true happiness is with me.”

Hermione lay there, her eyes closed, listening to Snape’s rich persuasive voice as he softened inside her. She didn’t speak. She couldn’t. All she could feel was the residual burn of the wizard’s ardor, of his passion. For the first time in a long time, Hermione Granger came away from a sexual encounter completely satisfied.

Who cared if he was physically unattractive? There was much more to Severus Snape that met the eye. She always thought him brilliant, courageous, powerful, and now she knew that behind closed doors, he was a man who could deliver passion. Something her life sorely lacked.

As she looked up at the dark wizard, his face sober as he stared down at her, she wondered if passion was enough? After the euphoria died down and his burn faded away, would she still feel this way?

Then Snape kissed her again.

Maybe she would.

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A/N: I hope ya’ll found this chappie satisfying. Thanks for reading.