Blackout
Chapter 2
Severus
quickly took his hand away. He had already kept it there too long, way too
long. He should not have become conscious of its soft roundness, filling his
hand nicely through her robe and shirt—
He heard
her give a few staggering breaths. “Severus?”
He
swallowed the lump in his throat. “Sorry.”
“Severus.”
Her voice was wispy.
“Yes?”
“Take my
hand, my hand this time—so I know
where to find you.” He felt for it, found it and clasped it, keeping his eyes
staring straight ahead, into what had to be her eyes, despite the darkness. She
had a strong grip, he could appreciate the taut muscles and tendons in her
hand. Yet her skin was soft and smooth to the touch, and very warm. He felt his
insides begin to jitter. You just
insulted her. She’ll never agree to it.
“I… I
really am sorry.”
“It’s
quite all right.” Her reassuring tone made a surge of relief go through him.
“Um… Severus?”
“What?”
“Gods, I
can’t believe I’m going to ask you this… Would you do that again?”
He
couldn’t believe his ears. She wanted him to do that?
“I liked
it. I shouldn’t, especially after what I’ve just said to you… but it felt
good.”
He
swallowed. He simply did not believe this.
“Severus,
I think this is just as crazy as you must think it is. After all, how you
treated me was inexcusable-- and you can’t be too pleased, either, at my being
nasty to you. But for some reason, I liked it. And… I want more than just that
tiny bit.”
He still
did not move or say anything. She bit her lip in an attempt to fight down the
wave of frustration welling up from inside her stomach. His accidental touch
had set off a wave of emotions she had been grappling with for weeks now, she
now surmised. Such silly notions as finding his disciplinary snarls erotic…
surely she had meant those in jest, hadn’t she? Not to mention the strange and
lovely fantasies she’d been having, after her alarm rang but before she pulled
herself out of bed, exciting and sensual visions starring her and some unknown
male… surely, she thought, it couldn’t be him.
she could not turn back. Not after she felt that hand… that lovely hand, the
glorious electrical spark he ignited in the very core of her body, the warmth,
the pressure of his fingers, the fact that it had remained in place just
milliseconds longer than he thought it should have been.
She had
longed for something like this, a touch that could command her attention like
this. None of the men in her life, not even Viktor, had even come close to it,
and therefore she was beginning to doubt the existence of such a touch. Dismiss
it as a dream, or wishful thinking…
Now,
with the determination of anyone else who has just uncovered a long-buried
truth, she said, “Please, Severus.”
She was not ready to beg yet, but she had to have more, and damn it, she was
going to get more if she had to make a complete sniveling idiot of herself.
Fortuny
sy
she didn’t have to go that far; with that he stepped forward, closing the gap
between them. She closed her eyes as she anticipated, and then felt his hand on
her breast again. He spread out his fingers so it was completely encircled, and
began to knead gently. Her breath quickened as he slid his palm over the top,
and even through the layers of clothing she could feel the nipple hardening. He
started to knead a little bit more firmly, and the fingers of his other hand
delicately caressed her palm. Her breathing grew ragged.
He then
trailed his fingers over the swollen and erect nipple, and started to circle.
“Yes,” she breathed, at the electricity making a new current through her.
“Yes.”
He let
the fingers of his right hand inch up to her wrist, and then removed his hand
to cup her other breast, and do the same tasks as the other. Her breaths
shuddered even more. “Severus—“ The sound of his name sent fire running through
his veins, and he inhaled deeply to steady himself.
And then
he felt her hands, with strong insistent fingers. Massaging his shoulders,
playing with the long hair at the base of his neck. He leaned back and let his
hands slip down to just underneath her breasts.
“I can’t
believe how soft your hair is,” she said.
Severus
couldn’t help smiling in spite of himself. “How come you never bothered to feel
it before?”
“It just
didn’t strike me as—appropriate in a professional setting,” said Hermione,
putting a seductive twist on her words. “Lean closer.”
He did,
expecting a kiss, but instead she turned and buried her face in his hair, and
breathed in deeply. “And not a bad smell either,” she said. “Coconut oil, a
little bay rum…”
“What,
are you implying I wash my hair with the stuff pirates use?”
“I don’t
mind it in the least, Captain,” she said. His head was tucked neatly between
her cheek and shoulder, his face resting just above her collarbone; her remark
caused him to chuckle and send a warm rush of air through her layers of
clothing. He unhooked her robe and let it fall to the ground. He touched her
shirt, noting it to be knit with a bateau neck, exposing a stretch of smooth
skin above her collarbone—and as he traced the path with his fingers, a little
bit of bra strap. He pushed the strap out of the way, bent his head and softly
breathed on the tender skin, and then gently sank in his teeth. He delighted in
her gasp, her fingers’ kneading of his scalp.
“Yes, my
dear, this is most—unprofessional,” he said.
“And if
you don’t shut the door, it will be scandalous,” said Hermione. “People can
still hear us, you know. Not to mention ghosts.”
“Right.
Since your wand is now on the floor inside your robe, I’ll have to oblige.” He
briefly leaned back from her to point his wand over her shoulder—that had to be
in the direction of the door—and say, “Ferma.”
The door shut with a click.
”Now,”
said the woman in his arms, “Now that we’re alone, how about a kiss, to
properly start this lack of professionalism off?” Severus smiled again—I
think I’m smiling more now than I have in my life before—leaned forward and
brushed his lips against hers.
She
responded by pressing more firmly against his mouth, almost willing him to take
more forceful action. He trailed his tongue around the outline of each of her
lips, and felt her mouth open. She then took him by surprise, slipping her
tongue into his mouth and stroking it lovingly, insistently. The warm silken
muscle swirled around his own, tapped each of his teeth, and teased the insides
of his lips. He pulled back from her after a moment of this, took her bottom
lip into his mouth and sucked slowly, savoring the taste of her—hard to
describe, rather like vanilla and cardamom. His hands had come around to her
back, spread out and moved up and down, also fully contacting her thick, soft
hair. He started to nibble and took in the low, contented hum from her throat.
He then
felt one of her hands run up and down the back of his neck, massaging the hair
line, sifting the strands of his hair between her fingers. Meanwhile, her other
hand trekked down his face, memorizing each contour: his forehead, his small
widow’s peak, his eyebrows, eyelashes, cheekbones, nose, chin; before she moved
her hands up again for a sensual brush of her thumb against his lips. She then
used that same thumb to take each earlobe and twiddle it; moments later the
tingle of her teeth followed, amplifying the little lightning bolts of sensation
that had been striking through him.
“Such
noble features… didn’t you once say there was a Roman Senator or Emperor named
Severus?”
“Yes, I
think I did. I am certainly not the only Severus the Snape family has ever
seen—I’ll look at my family tree again later…”
“…but
for now I have your aristocratic leanings all to myself,” she said, almost
wickedly, and she moved to brush her lips over every place she had just gone
with her fingers.
He
waited until her lips brushed against his again, then decided he would be the
one to take charge this time, pressing hungrily into the kiss, trying to
achieve the perfect balance of firm lips and delicately swirling tongue, taking
full advantage of her invitation to continue. He grabbed handfuls of knit
material and springy flesh, and felt her groan into his mouth. He abruptly left
her lips to plant a slow, thorough line of kissesm hem her chin down her
throat.
Gods, he
was hard and he hadn’t even left her neck yet. It was true that losing your
sight meant that your other senses were made that kee keener.
There
was a circle at the base of her throat, just the right size and shape for his
lips, and it was here that he paid the most attention. He could feel her pulse
quickening, the irregular rhythm of her breathing, the delicious vibration
whenever she moaned. Her taste was less vanilla and more cardamom here, and he
wondered what other parts of her would taste like as well...
“This
robe of yours is too thick,” she said, her voice silky. The sound caused a
shiver to course through his body and exit out the tip of his penis. How could
a simple voice do that to him? Gods, he wasn’t even going to last
She then
felt for the catches on his robe, and had them released in seconds. He felt the
weight of the material slide off his shoulders as she smoothed her hands up and
gave it a push. She moved in closer to him, putting her arms around his waist,
and heard her gasp as she touched her hips to his pelvis. Merlin… She then planted her lips at the base of his neck, and gave
a noise of annoyance at meeting cloth.
”My, do you have to button up this tightly?” she said, running her fingers over
his buttons. “Really, buttons from your waist all the way up to practically
your chin. It’s such a hassle.”
“There’s
a simple way of dealing with that,” he said, pushing on the top button himself.
Instantly all the buttons parted, and the material peeled back from his chest.
He gave a sharp breath at the first touch of her hand on his now naked skin.
He’s
versatile. So many textures, she thouas sas she ran her fingers over his
pectoral muscles—taut and distinctly outlined, with skin over them that felt
just a shade rougher than silk. Not quite
as soft as mine. The hairs she detected were no less versatile—somewhat
coarser at the top, downier and finer down his belly. She circled his navel
with the tip of her finger and heard him catch his breath again—and heard it
much louder when she trailed her fingers down from the waistband of his
trousers, a few inches to the increasingly hot bulge. She smiled.
She
placed her hands on his shoulders, under the cloth resting on them, and she
felt his arms tense as he stretched them out, allowing her to slide his shirt
off completely. She placed her hands on his wrists and started to caress her
way up his arms. Rougher skin with wispy hairs on the outer sue, se, soft and
hairless on the inner side—This man has
it all. Everyone should caress their lover’s body blindfolded. A little
farther up, and she found well-toned biceps, triceps and deltoids, covered with
more of that delicate hair. She massaged the muscles gently and breathed in the
spicy scent coming off his skin.
She then
ran her hand down through his covering of chest hairs, searching. “Hermione…“
She felt him tense up.
“Shhh,”
she said. “Relax,” and he did, but tensed up again as one thumb found what it
was looking for and then the other, and both thumbs began to make deliberate
circles. She heard his breathing come in shallow gasps, and then moans as the
sensitive flesh tautened up. She moved closer to him, became momentarily
distracted by his hot hardness pressing even closer against her hips, quickly
shook off the feeling and gently touched her lips to one nipple. She then
opened her lips, fitted them around it and began to caress with her tongue ever
so delicately. She thrilled at the simultaneous stiffness and silkiness—
of that heady, spicy scent and taste.
“Oh,
Hermione—“ He brought his hands up and buried them in her hair. In response,
she moved with greater confidence, lapping more firmly, suckling, every so
often nicking with her teeth. Her lips and tongue grew more and more insistent,
and he began to growl. She abruptly released him, blew a cool breeze across
where she had just paid attention, and heard another delighted moan. She then
moved to the other nipple, approaching this one differently, reaching for it
with her tongue, picking it up and drawing it fully into her mouth. The hands
in her hair gripped almost painfully, but did not distract her as she paid the
same loving attention to this side. She then carefully took her prize between
her teeth, tugged lightly and heard him say her name in such a magnificent
growl that she felt a shock wave run through her, one that seemed to condense
between her thighs into a growing wetness.
He
suddenly pulled on her hair. “Off,” he said, and she released him, “Now it’s
your turn.” Quickly he reached behind her back and released the clasp of her
bra, then moved his hands to the waist of her shirt, and picking up both, he
slid them off her head.
Hermione
shivered as she felt the cool air on her breasts, firming up her nipples. And
shuddered when she felt his warm palms scooping them up, cradling them, teasing
and sensitizing the tips even more…
Severus
marveled at how welr brr breasts fit into his hands, clothed or unclothed,
equally responsive and resilient in either case—but now, naked, their sensation
was many times more intense. His palms and fingers took in the skin, softer
than any skin he’d touched before, until he came to the nipples—even more
velvety, if that was possible, in direct contrast to their growing hardness. He
leaned forward, placing his lips at the perimeter of one swell, making gradual
inward circles as his hand fondled the other. Finally he came to the center and
flicked his tongue over the silky tightness, hearing her harsh whisper of his
name. He took it into his mouth and began to suckle, savoring that exquisite
combination, drinking in some unidentifiable female scent this time. She truly
was a woman of many sensations, many scents and flavors—and many sounds, he
thought as she rasped out his name from the depths of her throat, a low,
guttural tone he hadn’t hearom hom her before. She clasped her hands behind his
head, trying to push even more of her breast into his mouth, and he gladly
followed her lead, snaking his arms around to press at her back, opening wide
and taking a whole mouthful of satiny flesh. His tongue kneaded her nipple, his
teeth lightly nipped the skin, and she said, “More,” in that same guttural
voice.
He
switched sides, feeling his erection, which had been relaxing, return with a
vengeance. Within seconds his trousers felt painfully tight, and incredibly
hot. He felt her hand slip down to his waistband. Oh my Gods, she knows exactly what she’s doing.
She
undid the top button with only the one hand, pulled down the zipper, then…
manipulated his penis free, and was now running her fingers over it—light,
feathery, achingly soft touches. It was all he could do to concentrate on her
breasts.
Her hand
encircled him. In response he sucked on her nipple as hard as he could. She
squealed, but was not deterred. Her grip stilled, and her thumb moved very
slowly up to the head—
He felt
the drop of moisture form and shuddered, nicking her sensitized nipple with his
teeth. She cried out, with more than a little pain, he thought, but still she
did not let go. She started to spread the moisture around, and he jerked back.
Releasing her breast, he said, “No! I’m too close… I won’t last…”
“Well,
then,” she said, her voice thick, heavy, and teasing—Damn her! “I’ll just have to make do, won’t I?” Then, before
Severus knew what was happening, sad kad knelt down, pulled his trousers and
boxers down is kis knees, and drawn the head of his cock into her mouth so that
she held it there, languidly, not sucking yet.
“Oh—“ He
squeezed his eyes shut, and threw his head back. She started to move her
tongue, and he spasmed. She took a few more inches in, and he felt a whole
string of spasms. Her hands came around to knead his bare buttocks, she opened
her mouth wide and took him all the way in—and as he felt the tip of his cock
touch the back of her throat, he took great, heavy breaths, trying to get some
oxygen to his brain, trying to replenish his blood that all seemed to be going
to that part of him that rested securely inside her mouth.
“Hermione…
oh, Hermione…” he moaned. She suddenly released him except for the head. “Yes?”
she said, sending warm air down to the root of him.
“Don’t
stop, don’t stop,” he said, feeling a hot tear in each eye, not believing she
realized what lovely torture she was putting him through.
“Are you
sure?” She released him more, until her lips were flush against him.
“I’m
going to die, Hermione, is that enough for you?” He was amazed at the
desperation in his voice.
“Whatever
you say,” she said, pressing her tongue into the slit at the very tip of him,
and he growled and lurched, trying to thrust into her mouth, and this time she
ceased her teasing and got down to business, sliding her mouth up and down
along his length, sucking on alternate slides, swirling her tongue around the
head, down the shaft and up again. He reached down and took great handfuls of
her thick hair, massaged her scalp, tilted his hips against her mouth. She took
his sac in her hand and slipped it between her fingers, and that pushed him
over the edge, groaning as he came hard, filling her mouth, feeling the shock
waves as successive portions of his release spurted from him.
After a
brief moment she detached and left him ttch tch his breath. He felt the cool
air on his now soft, but very warm, cock and shivered. What an incredible mouth
the woman had, even though she had removed it too quickly. His shivering did
not stop as he pulled his garments back on.
going to come of total darkness, I’ll gladly take more nights like these. And
he hasn’t even touched me there yet…
to…that… She swallowed again.
“Hermione?”
he said. She realized how long she had goithoithout saying anything. “Did you
like… doing that to me?” Modest, almost diffident, most unlike him.
“Well…”
She paused. How was she going to mention something like this—that she wasn’t
too pleased with the taste of a man—without offending him? She decided to
concentrate on what she did like. “I loved how you felt inside…and the sounds
you made, I liked too, I’m glad I pleased you.” She swallowed again. “I’m just
not used to the…taste yet.” Gods, that
sounds so stupid.
“Am I
the first man you’ve done this to?” he said.
“No,
there were a couple of others when I was younger, one of them a Muggle, and it
was the same story—I loved everything but what came at the end…” She felt her
cheeks get hot. Why die hae have to tell him in the first place? She swallowed
again, finding the courage to ask, “Did I hurt your feelings by saying this?”
To her
relief he said, “No—you’re like a lot of women, apparently not many of them
like the taste of a man.”
She
considered this. “I assume you’re speaking from experience?”
“Yes.
I’m not exactly untouched you know.” He paused. “Though it has been a while.”
Hermione
considered this. “That’s why you didn’t like my relationship with Viktor, isn’t
it?” She tried her best to keep her tone compassionate, rather than flip.
He was
silent, almost embarrassed again. Finally he said, “Yes. There, I’ve finally
admitted it, are you happy?”
“Well… I
would have appreciated a more prompt and voluntary response.”
“Now
who’s being a Slytherin? You not only want confessions, you want the confessor
toe gie giving them…” He pulled her into his arms. “Come now, Hermione. You
think any man would be exactly fond of having to admit they have feelings for a
person who may not reciprocate—in front of his coworkers to boot?”
She
swallowed at that, now embarrassed herself. What a fool you’ve been. You
know what Severus is. You know how uncomfortable things like this make him.
“I think
I should be the one doing the apologizing, then.”
“Well…I’ll
be willing to overlook your Gryffindor hard-headedness. Just this once.”
She
chuckled. “Anyway…” she said, “just because I don’t really like the taste,
doesn’t mean I didn’t enjoy the act…”
“If you
want to avoid that problem, it’s a simple matter of a Nonaromatis Charm…” and
with that, he held her at arm’s length and performed it, and she felt the
aftertaste disappear from her throat—“until you do get used to it, that is.”
His voice was full of glee, which made her laugh.
“Good.
I’m glad—I was afraid you’d say I was crazy.”
“If
anybody’s been made crazy, it’s me, Hermione,” he said, pulling her into his
embrace again. “You’ve made me go hot and cold all over, made my head swim…” He
found her mouth and captured it in a kiss, pulling away after a moment to say,
“The charm worked. Confidentially, not many men are exactly thrilled with the
taste of themselves either.”
“That
is, until you get used to it,” said Hermione, unable to resist a grin.
“Perhaps
we set about familiarizing ourselves?” he said mischievously, kissing her again
and running his hands up her bare back. Her breasts were still sensitive from
his earlier ministrations, and even lightly brushing against his chest sent
chills running up and down her spine.
“Later.
For now…” She moved in to kiss his neck exactly the same way he had kissed hers
earlier, paying the most attention to the base of his throat, and after a few
minutes of this felt him encircle her tightly with his arms.
“Wait a
minute,” he said, “I don’t know about you, but I’m surprised we’ve done this
much standing up. Somewhere more comfortable before we continue, perhaps?”
“I
agree,” said Hene. ne. “How far away is your bed?”
“It’s
too far. Plus, we might take a wrong turn and end up in my work room, where I
keep an ungodly number of delicate glass objects, which of course we can’t see
to avoid. I don’t you’d like it on a bed of shards.”
“Ugh.
Definitely not. The sofa, then?”
“It may
do, but it’s a little small for us. There’s an open space in front of the
fireplace that’s even better. I’ve got my wand. Take my arm and stay close behind
me.” He took a step off to his right side and her left, and she followed
closely.
Slowly,
carefully, for the next few minutes they made a path just to the side of the
coffee table, and then into an open area. Hermione was struck by a sudden
thought. “Try to light the fire.”
“
remained dark and silent. “I tell you, old Mr. Murphy thought of everything.”
Hermione could not fail to detect the wry amusement in his voice.
As if
echoing her thoughts, he then said, “You always thought I should smile more.”
“Yes,”
said Hermione. “I thought it would make you look handsome.”
“Well, I
think I have indeed smiled more than any other time since we’ve known each
other—“
“—Only I
can’t see you,” she said. “I guess I have a faint chance of catching one as the
sun rises--“
“After
which the coach will turn back into a pumpkin and my face will resume its
customary scowl,” said Severus, quite amused now.
“And the
spell will be broken,” added Hermione. Taken then with a sudden, wistful
thought, she pulled him to her again. “Let’s make the most of our time under
this spell, Severus.”
“Yes,”
hed, ad, and immediately Hermione noticed that the floor was getting thicker
and softer— He had conjured a mattress.
“Now,”
he said seductively, “how about picking up where we left off?” They knelt down
together and his lips claimed hers again as she leaned back into the mattress
and pulled him on top of her. She blinked when her bare back contacted the surface.
Satin sheets.
“You
thought of everything, too,” she said.
“I have
discriminating taste,” he said, leaning in to kiss her again, running his hands
down to lift her back off the floor, pushing her chest against his, making her
gasp as the crisp hairs touched her breasts.
His
hands gradually moved downward, skimming over her hips, prompting her to lift
them off the floor, bend her knees and put her weight on her feet. He
unbuttoned her trousers and slid them off, but did not remove her panties. She
was about to ask why, when he cupped her there, catching her off guard, making
her draw a sharp breath.
“You’re
not quite ready yet,” he said. “Don’t worry, I won’t be long.” He kissed her
again, not removing his hand from her, sliding his fingers against her through
the soft cottony fabric. His kiss was languid, his tongue smooth and
deliberate, determined to taste every corner of her mouth. He briefly broke the
kiss to take a breath, and feeling the moisture start to pool between her
thighs she started to protest that she was getting ready, but his lips
descended again. Obviously he was going to take his time, wait until she was really
ready, like an overripe fruit; when she needed
him, and she was nowhere near that point yet.
He
started a path from her lips, along her jawline, down her throat, and soon all
over her body, leaving no square inch, it seemed, uncaressed or unkissed. He
rolled her over, gathered up her hair and piled it out of the way, over her
head, then planted a slow, passionate kiss on the back of her neck. His hands
roamed over her shoulder blades and rib cage, traced the curve running from her
breasts to her hips and back again, and began to firmly massage the flesh as he
trailed his lips down her spine. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of
her panties, pulled them off and tossed them aside, and grasped a buttock in
each hand as he continued kneading.
His nose
tickled her as his mouth worried the very base of her spine, then his lips and
nibbling teeth moved to the part of her held in his hands, and her teeth met
her bottom lip as she felt this new surge of passion overtake her. His mouth
stayed in its place as his hands moved to the backs of her thighs, squeezing,
caressing, making her thrash and feel as if she were going up in flames.
He
placed one tiny, soft kiss on the back of each thigh, and slid his hand into
the space between. “Ah,” he said appreciatively, noting her now heavy wetness,
and rolled her back over. She panted with anticipation as he fitted himself
between her legs, kissed her stomach, swirled his tongue about her navel.
When his
mouth came to her inner thighs, it lost all gentleness, biting, sucking,
demanding, ripping from her a voice feral and rough with desire.
she thought… but who else would know
they’re there? Still, he stubbornly refused to come to the place where she
most wanted him, where she now felt herself flowing like a stream, and pleaded
with him, with urging tugs of her hands, to dam it.
He
hovered agonizing millimeters over that spot, took a deep breath, and said, “I
like how you smell.”
She lost
all patience in that instant. “For Merlin’s sake, taste me, Severus,” she growled, pushing him down, making him get
on task, and he obeyed, slipping his tongue inside her opening, lapping up her
juices, taking her nether lips in kiss after hungry kiss. “Yes… oh, yes…”
His
fingers played with the hairs on her mound, loving little circles and swirls.
He slid one finger down over her clitoris, and made more deliberate circles
here, his mouth never leaving her. He plunged his tongue in as far as it would
go, and she felt fiery waves burn hotter and hotter inside of her, crest more
rapidly, break more violentlreakreak into hundreds of little droplets that
escaped through her skin. Groaning his name, she pressed her hips against his
mouth, and his fingers and mouth switched places. He slid one, then two fingers
in and out, in and out of her, while his lips and tongue locked onto her
clitoris and gave their ministrations without mercy. Her eyes were full of
tears, her heart palpitated, she couldn’t seem to breathe in enough to meet her
demands. She didn’t care. All that mattered was him; if he stopped, she would
die.
He
concentrated the fuorceorce of his lips on her nub, and that proved to be her
undoing; she came, grabbing his head fervently, letting the cry of a lost soul
rip from her throat, arching her back and thrusting her hips. He did not remove
his mouth, but let its pressure gradually decrease, and gave her nub a last
soft caress with his tongue as she lay back flat, catching her breath, feeling
heat seep out through every one of her pores.
Severus
then sidled up to her, putting his arms around her, and she noticed that he had
removed the rest of his clothes; she could tell by the velvet hardness nestling
against her thigh.
“You
know, back when you were a student, I never would have thought this possible,”
he said.
“What?”
“You
were such a stereotypical bookworm. If anyone had told me you were capable of
such passion, I would have laughed them out of Hogwarts.”
“And
taken another opportunity to embarrass me, no doubt? Anyway, dear Professor, we
don’t all live according to
stereotype, do we?” said Hermione, playfully punching him.
“…or
such violence,” he said.
“You want
to talk violence? I can still try new things with this.” She grabbed him and relished his groan.
“That
sounds like a threat,” he said wickedly, “and I know what to do with a threat.”
He rolled over on top of her, pinning her down.
“Why,
you—“ She was cut off by his mouth searing hers, his tongue removing her will
with its fiery, insistent stroking and delving, so that when he pulled away,
she was left pliant, drugged and swollen-lipped. “Severus,” she sighed. His
name was so lovely.
“Yes?”
“I want
you in me.” She reached down and positioned his erection near her opening. He
shifted slightly, and she took in the enticing feel of its smooth, swollen head
against her slick wetness, nudging, begging entry. He started to move, pushing
it slowly, ever so slowly, inside of her.
He
pistoned in and out of her, simply sliding without thrusting, each time subtly
twisting or changing his angle, making sure to contact every surface. She ran
her hands down his back as he had done to her, loving the silken skin, tracing
the knobs of his strong spine, feeling him shiver and start to thrust.
He
continued his rhythm of retreat and return, now adding pressure each time he
returned, and Hermione felt herself spasm. Grasping his buttocks firmly,
pushing him into her, she felt his pubis make contact with her clitoris and
gasped. He again retreated and returned, harder than ever, and she cried out.
He continued in this vein for the next few moments, and then she quested with
her finger, running back and forth along the path that ran back from his balls,
starting to increase the pressure—
He
jolted violently, cried out, and spilled into her, thick, heavy, liquid heat.
She came shortly afterwards, clinging to him, wanting to prolong the moment,
suddenly losing much energy, feeling her eyelids growing heavy, a warm,
lethargic sense of contentment overcoming her…