Through the Looking Glass ~ COMPLETED

Chapter 22 ~ A Bit More

”No . . . it’s not that you’re so bad . . . you’re . . . good,” Hermione said softly. “I just . . . just . . . “

The stern look on Snape’s face softened and he took Hermione into his arms, giving her a knowing smirk.

”Ah, I frustrated you,” he said softly. “I’m sorry, Miss Granger. I suppose I could have carried you out of the shower, but then we would have still had to stop to dry off. Some feel it’s . . . rather sexy to fall into a bed soaking and roll around in cold, wet sheets, but I’m afraid I’m not one of them. I prefer my sheets to be soaked by . . . perspiration, when wet at all. I’m sorry the transfer wasn’t more connected. I assure you we’ll reconnect.”

Hermione already felt a bit more reconnected in the wizard’s arms, feeling him start to throb against her again. She had felt as if he’d abandoned her a bit, especially after how delicious he had felt. But to err was human and to forgive . . . especially in this situation, would certainly prove divine, she was sure.

In her own world, Hermione probably wouldn’t be doing this. No, she definitely wouldn’t be doing this, shagging a teacher . . . and Snape no less. But she doubted the Potions master could match his counterpart as far as turning her on went. Gryffindor Snape was passionate, gentle and patient. Her Snape’s passions seemed rather dark, and he never exhibited much patience in anything.

Hermione’s brain was always working, and she idly thought about Tom Riddle. Why wasn’t he a Gryffindor, and Dumbledore a Slytherin? Maybe the alternate universe worked differently with the larger players. Both Riddle and Dumbledore could change the world. Maybe that had something to do with it. She wasn’t sure, but didn’t get a chance to continue her train of thought because Snape’s lips were pressed to hers as he swept her into his arms and carried her to the bed, gently placing her in it.

”Give me a little room, Miss Granger,” he purred down at her, fully erect now, his body lean and handsome, and hair still lankish looking, reminding her of the Potions master, except for he was heavier and healthier looking.

Hermione slid over and he joined her, taking her into his embrace and kissing her several times, small, suckling kisses until he felt her press against him.

”Warming up, again?” he asked her softly.

”Yessss,” Hermione breathed, her lips pursing for yet another kiss. Snape gave her one, then studied her.

”You have the potential to be quite the lover, Miss Granger,” he said to her softly.

”How do you know that? We haven’t done anything yet,” she said to him, reddening slightly as he tightened his hold on her.

”I don’t have to have had you, to know,” he replied, his black eyes resting on her face intently. “It is how you respond. How you want my kisses, closer contact.”

”Isn’t that . . . that normal?” she asked him.

“Well, yes and no. I’m about to tell you a secret, Miss Granger. Something every woman should know, but doesn’t always know. Something about men,” he said. “There are women who men take and forget, and then there are women they take and can’t get out of their heads. The women who are forever remembered and longed for.”

Hermione knew something about this. Even at Hogwarts there were witches who put out for wizards, but then were dumped. She always attributed it to the wizards being calloused users. She stared at him, more interested in what he had to say, than their closeness for the moment.

”What is the secret?” she asked him softly.

”It’s simple really. To make him feel desired, not to let him do all the work at foreplay. And I don’t mean the reciprocal acts, like oral sex. That is rather basic and mundane, no matter how good a witch is at it. Just as a man takes time on a woman’s body, she should take time on his, and be aggressive, show him she desires him, not just be submissive and willing, but show some fire of her own, some drive to be connected. A man likes to be told he is strong and sexy just as much as a woman likes to be told she is beautiful. He likes to be caressed, kissed and appreciated, and not just where his legs meet. Do you understand what I’m saying to you? It won’t be necessary tonight because this . . . this is an interlude between us. But, I imagine in your world you will be looking for someone ‘special’ since monogamy is highly over-rated there,” he said to her, his nose wrinkling a bit.

”I believe men are wired the same, no matter what world they are in, so if you would be one of the women to be remembered, you will always show passion and fire. Never just lie there, ever, even if it seems to be fine with him. It will be, but if you want it to be more than ‘fine’ you will apply yourself and make him feel just as desirable as he makes you. He will remember that. And that, Miss Granger makes all the difference.”

”Turnabout is fair play,” she breathed up at him.

Snape arched an eyebrow at her.

”Right in one,” he said, suddenly rolling on top of Hermione, his damp hair curtaining his face as he looked down at her. “Now enough verbal education. It’s time for another kind of communication, don’t you agree?”

Hermione certainly did.

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The Potions master had shifted his position after plunging into Hermione’s mouth so long and hard, her lips were swollen and she pleaded with him to stop. For the first time, she wasn’t in control of a blowjob. Doing it had always put her in a position of power with the wizard she was with, and she wielded that power over her partner with confidence and assurance, doing what she wished, how she wished without complaints. Snape himself had given over to her manipulation of him, wanting whatever she would deign to give him. Initially, she had the dark wizard wrapped around her little finger, tongue or whatever part she touched him with.

If she had been wiser, this Hermione would have just focused on Snape and forgot about manipulating everyone she came in contact with. He was willing to accept her “cultural differences” and if she had just shown a little loyalty and appreciation, he would have been kinder to her now, and a much better lover.

As he sat on her belly and worked his cock between her breasts lustfully, pushing them around his shaft roughly and sawing through them, leaving her chest wet with her own saliva, Snape wasn’t thinking of her pleasure or needs at all. He was treating her as a plaything, as just a body to slake his lust on. There would be no kisses, no caresses, no oral sex or tender contact of any type during this encounter. Hermione had used him callously, and now, he’d use her. She wouldn’t walk away from this interlude feeling as if she’d given him something special, and as if she were special for doing so. He intended to make her feel as used as he felt. She could use a good dose of reality, and he was just the wizard to administer it.

Mistreatment was not Snape’s natural inclination when it came to women. He didn’t have the opportunity to deal with decent witches very often. He indulged himself with prostitutes from time to time, but he even treated them with more consideration than he was showing Hermione’s counterpart. Yet, once in a rare moon, a woman might find him appealing for some reason or another, and return to his rooms with him.

The wizard was a fair judge of character, and although a witch consented to spend a night with him despite hardly knowing him, he didn’t automatically assume she was loose or a slut, but a consenting adult who wanted to connect with him sexually. He didn’t see anything wrong with a witch following her desires as long as she did it honestly and without strings.

And Snape was a total sensualist. He wasn’t a man considered physically attractive at first contact, and even at second glance. He did have some issue with how he was perceived by women and as a result of that, made sure that he had something special to bring to the table when it came to intimacy. He believed in leaving a woman breathless and smitten with him, his looks forgotten. Often, it ended this way, and in a better world, Snape would be a happy and contented man, with a mate that suited and loved him.

But it wasn’t a better world. It was just the world he lived in, harsh and cruel. A world of sacrifices and pain after pain after pain. Pleasure was in short supply and had to be gulped down quickly and greedily whenever it came his way. What made it worse was when Snape did have wonderful, sensual encounters with the rare witch, he couldn’t afford to see her again. Obliviation was part of the close after he escorted her home. It was safer for everyone involved. Being a Death Eater’s lover was dangerous enough, but being the lover of a Death Eater under constant scrutiny and suspicion was like suicide. Voldemort would surely pick up any woman Snape was interested in, and “question” her. Which translated to torturing and probably killing her. Not the best option for a lasting relationship.

But this Hermione had brought out the worst in Snape. He could be a vengeful man and he hated manipulation. Too bad for the witch, because he could have given her an experience that would have truly been earthshaking, in a good way. As it was, he was still going to give her an experience, but it would be torrid, dark and brutal. It would be what she had asked for as far as Snape was concerned, because of her thoughtless dismissal of him. After this, he was going to be cast aside for someone more physically attractive. Draco Malfoy. That spoiled pup born with a silver wand in his hand.

He had been willing to be the counterpart’s focus at the start. He hadn’t had sex of any type for some time when she walked into his world. But when she began to treat him like little more than a tool for working her wiles, and talking down to him as if he had no power of his own, she brought out the worst in the wizard. It must be so easy for her in her world, and she had no empathy for anyone whose life was difficult and challenging. Well, she’d learn about ‘difficulty’ tonight.

Snape grunted as he reached climax and caught hold of the base of his cock, hissing, “Open your mouth, slut!”

Hermione obediently did so as he shot his release into it and on her face, breathing heavily, watching as the thick white cream coated her tongue and dripped down her face. He quickly climbed off of her and out of the bed, standing before the witch holding his softening organ.

”Lick me clean,” he purred.

Hermione obediently rolled over and exited the bed, kneeling before him, his come drying on her face and using her tongue to lick him clean as he frowned down at her. Most of her makeup was gone now, washed away by her watering eyes, but there were still streaks of black and red on her skin. Absently, he fisted his hand into her hair and jerked her head a bit, the witch letting out a noise, a kind of excited whimper as she looked up at him a moment, her eyes hot despite his continued mistreatment.

Apparently, Miss Granger was getting off on being treated like a piece of meat. It was slightly irritating to the wizard, but this was the easy part. He’d make sure to soundproof his rooms for the next.

There would be quite a bit of noise, he was sure.

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A/N: Sorry for the shortness of this chapter, but I have things on my mind. Things like my new granddaughter, Trinity Rose Kyles. She was born at 10:43 this morning (08/08/08) and weighed in at a respectable 7lbs 13oz. She has my middle name. My first and only namesake. Hard to write hard lemons when your hearts so full. Anyway, thanks for reading. Next chapter will be much juicier. ***