You Know What They Say about Necessity...

A/N: Yay! I kept my promise to all you faithful readers. I know you\'ve waited a long time for this, and I hope it is worth it. Please let me know what you think! (Puts on a conductor\'s cap): \"All aboard! The Smut train is now leaving for Smutville!\"


Please review! Readership and feedback mean so much to writers!


Disclaimer: Please don\'t kill me, JKR. I know you own it and they\'re all quite of age in this story.


Chapter Twenty-Three: Happy Birthday, Harry Potter: Part III


“Happy birthday, Harry!”

“I’d be happier if I could look,” Harry answered, hands over his eyes as Ginny had told him to do.

“Well, you can look now,” she told him, giggling.

Harry uncovered his eyes, put his glasses back on… and stared in amazement.

Ginny stood a few feet in front of him, dressed in nothing but a long gauzy negligee of dark blue silk and a smile. The gown laced up the front all the way to her waist, and had splits on the sides. Her hair fell over her shoulders and spilled over her breasts, and her eyes sparkled as they met his.


“See anything you like, birthday boy?” Ginny cooed.

“I see a lot of things I like,” Harry told her with a smile. “Are you my special birthday present?”

“You’d better believe it,” Ginny answered, sliding over to the bed and kneeling in front of him. “I’m going to give you all sorts of goodies.”

“Lucky, lucky me,” Harry grinned, pulling Ginny up and into his lap as he gave her a kiss.
******************************************

Hermione’s fingers fumbled with the buttons on Severus’ nightshirt, causing him to chuckle. “Are you having difficulties, Hermione?”

“Don’t tempt me to rip this off you, Severus,” she warned with a wicked grin, continuing her work. They’d spent another fifteen or so minutes just touching and kissing until Hermione had decided that, pleasurable as it was, the time had come to move forward.

Severus smiled at her. No woman had ever threatened to rip his clothes off before: yet another thing that he realized he liked. In fact, if he wasn’t careful, Hermione was going to get him liking a lot of things he’d never believed he could care about. Her eyes had pierced the layers he’d kept himself wrapped in all these years: her smile had melted the ice around his heart. Somehow, this former Know-It-All had bespelled him, and he had no desire to break the enchantment.

He felt her warm, nimble fingers on his bare skin suddenly, and sighed as she caressed his chest. Her touch was eager, if not greatly skillful, but Severus didn’t mind at all. Skill could be learned; fervor was innate. He placed one hand over hers, slowing her rhythm, showing her how he liked to have his nipples rubbed, his skin lightly scratched. She caught on quickly, copying his movements once he took away his hand, and was rewarded by even deeper sighs from Severus as she caressed him.

Emboldened by her success, Hermione replaced her hand with her mouth. She continued to move slowly, trailing soft kisses, then following them with light nips with her teeth. Capturing a taut nipple with teeth and tongue, she suddenly remembered something from a muggle book she’d read, and she blew a warm breath onto the nipple, then sucked the air back hard. The rapid change from warm to cold had Severus writhing beneath her, and she chuckled smugly before giving the other nipple the same treatment.

“Come here, vixen,” Severus growled, pulling her up and directing her to straddle him at the waist. “I believe turnabout is overdue.”

Hermione smirked, smiling down at him. “Ooo, professor,” she said. “Have I been… bad?” she asked breathily. Part of her was screaming at herself: What are you doing?! The other part of her was enjoying her behavior to no end.

He gave her an answering smirk. “My dear Miss Granger, you have been incorrigible. And as such”—he said sternly—“I think it’s time I gave you a proper reward.” He pulled her t-shirt off and let it fall to the floor.

Hermione struggled not to laugh. She’d been afraid at first of how Severus would react to her teasing, but it was obvious he liked it. Thank Circe he had a wicked sense of humor.

Severus studied her. Hermione was now clad from the waist up in only a lacy purple bra. Just like my dream, he realized. Her breasts rose and fell in their lacy cage as she breathed, and he felt himself get impossibly harder at the thought of freeing them to his attentions. But the bra…

“Lovely choice of color,” he murmured, and she smiled.

“I thought you’d think so, seeing as how it’s your second favorite color.”

“How did you know that?” he asked, impressed and confounded.

“I have my ways.” He stared at her sternly. “All right, I overheard Minerva telling Albus one day. It seems Albus wanted to give you some new socks for your birthday and asked her if she knew. Now, as it how Minerva knows, you’ll have to ask her,” Hermione explained, still smiling.

“Minerva knows because, in true Gryffindor style, she accosted me one night in a hall and asked me,” Severus said wryly. His brow burrowed slightly. “But—if you knew that—”

“Why didn’t I wear your first favorite color?” Hermione asked wryly. “Please, Severus: black, although sexy, is so cliché, don’t you think?”

He snorted, and she giggled, the movements causing her breasts to rise and fall rapidly again. “I think I can find it in my heart to forgive you,” he said saucily.

His hands slid back and unfastened the clasp, and he slowly peeled the bra off her. Her breasts were nearly just as he’d imagined them: neither small nor huge, more oval than round, with generous dusky rose colored nipples. Hermione held back a giggle at his expression: he looked like a man who had been presented with too many equally wonderful options and didn’t know which to pick first.

After a moment of simply gazing at her creamy bareness, Severus reached up and took one breast in each hand, resting them gently in his palms, feeling their weight and heat against his skin. Then he bend his head slightly and pressed his lips to her left nipple. Hermione moaned as he licked it, then drew it into his mouth, swirling his tongue around its hardness. His hands began to knead her breasts in sweeping circular motions as his lips teased first one nipple then the other. He bit gently, then mimicked her earlier action of exhaling and inhaling. Hermione’s moans grew longer and louder.

“Did you…” he whispered, enjoying her sounds but not wanting Potter to burst in thinking she was being harmed.

“I cast a silencing charm before I came in,” she answered breathlessly.

Severus chuckled. “Clever witch, indeed.” He returned his attention to her breasts, laving and teasing until Hermione couldn’t take anymore. Her hands shook as they tugged on the hem of his nightshirt. “Take this off, Severus, please,” she whispered. I want to touch more of you.”

“I suppose that can be arranged,” he purred, undoing the last of his buttons. He lifted himself up slightly, allowing her to slip the nightshirt up and off his body. He then stretched out on the bed, hands relaxed at his sides, while she looked at him.

He was pale: she’d known that before. But he was lithe: not broad in the shoulders but well defined. He was actually built rather like Harry, she realized. As she’d suspected weeks ago, his chest wasn’t hairy, and his long sculpted legs had a light dusting of fine black hairs. His toes were adorable: long and slim, what muggles often called “monkey toes.” He had long narrow feet. He could have easily been a dancer, she mused. Her eyes worked their way back up his legs, finally coming to rest at the shadowy juncture of his thighs that she’d deliberately waited to examine.

Oh, my.

His cock wasn’t thick, but it was a good eight inches long. It was a dusky dark pink and, at the moment, looked hard as an iron bar as it rested against his belly. His testicles were darker, drawn up close to his body, and surrounding it all was a thick tangle of black curls.

“See anything you like, Hermione?”

She jerked her eyes up to his face, startled by his voice, amused by his teasing. “I think so,” she replied coyly, “but I’ll need to make sure.”

“And how exactly do you plan to do that?” he whispered huskily.

“Watch and see,” she grinned.

She slipped out of her jeans, and, now wearing only panties that matched her bra, she stretched out on top of Severus. He felt her settle onto him, felt the softness of her breasts against his firm chest, her wet heat nestled against his hard cock, the firmness of his thighs against the smoothness of hers.

He kissed her, slowly and gently, possessing her mouth with his tongue, then resting it at the entrance of her parted lips, not moving it until he felt her own tongue slide out to capture his. He pulled her lower lip into his mouth, sucking in and releasing, then pursed his lips and tugged on her tongue until she plunged it deep into his mouth.

Hermione pulled back to caress his face with her tongue, running it down Severus’ cheek to his chin, lightly licking just below his lower lip. Then she moved to nibble on an ear, and he groaned as her moist tongue darted into the delicate shell, breathing into him, sending shivers down his spine. He pulled her mouth back to his, seeking it out with his tongue, moving it over her lips up and down and side to side, savoring her sweetness and pliancy.

He gently moved her onto her back beside him and leaned over her, brushing her erect nipples with the palm of one hand, running his fingers over them as she gasped. He bent lower still, nuzzling his head on her breasts, pillowing into her, his long black locks of hair tickling her skin as they swept against her exposed flesh. Hermione moaned again, feeling a current of energy pulse from her breasts to her sex, arching against him to intensify the connection.

Hermione was acting purely on instincts she hadn’t realized she possessed. She ground her hips into his, pressing up hard against his eager cock. She sighed as she felt him through her flimsy panties, his heat against hers, his wetness increasing her own. She was amazed by the power of their mutual need, their obvious and unashamed desire for each other.

With a strength that surprised both of them, she flipped him onto his back again and began to kiss him, rubbing his cock with one hand while pressing herself against his leg. He gasped at the feel of her hand, so firm and steady as she pumped his shaft, changing her speed as he whispered for her to slow down. Now it was Severus who arched his back, hissing his pleasure as she stroked his cock relentlessly, bringing her other hand down to cradle his testicles, eliciting another soft moan from him.

“You’re so hard,” she murmured, sighing as he drew her down to kiss her in reply. Hermione was so wet she couldn’t stand it. She reached a hand over, but he stopped her. “Let me,” he said quietly.

She sat up beside him, and he unhurriedly pulled her panties down her thighs. She rested on her knees so he could slide them even further down, then kicked them off: leaving her naked to his glittering eyes. He pulled her over him, bringing her up so that her sex was level with his face. “Hold on to the headboard,” he told her, and pulled her even closer.

Hermione cried out as she felt him bury his nose and mouth into her, heard him take a deep breath, inhaling her scent as though it was a drug he had to take. Severus sighed into her quivering folds. She tasted so sweet and musky. He had been uncertain at first if he was doing more than she could handle. But she obviously could. He teased and laved her with his lips and tongue, flicking her clitoris until she wanted to scream.

This was unlike anything she’d ever felt with Ron, or Paul, or even dreamed about. Hermione wasn’t very experienced. She and Ron had done this only a handful of times, and she’d only been with Paul once. Her encounters with them had taught her that, although it was enjoyable, it wasn’t anything spectacular. She’d kept that attitude, not having been with anyone to disprove it. It was nice, but she wasn’t expecting to grow flowers in a desert or anything when she and Severus had started this.

Now there were flowers everywhere. Her mind was bursting with light and colors and scents. She felt overwhelmed in the most incredible way she would ever have thought possible. He was driving her mad, and showed no signs of stopping.

Severus felt her muscles clenching and knew she was close. He could feel how rigid she was, how wound up. He continued licking her with his tongue, persistent and patient, until she began bucking wildly against his mouth and he had to grasp her waist to keep her steady. Her orgasm exploded in his mouth like fireworks, raining her fluids down upon his face, and still he devoured her until he felt her come again. Only then, when she was shaking and whimpering, did he stop and lift his head to look at her.

Her face and body were a rose rainbow, pink and flushed. Her eyes sparkled with an inner ecstasy that was also reflected in her sated, dreamy smile. She scooted down and kissed him, licking her juices from his face in curiosity. It wasn’t bad, she decided: just musky. Afterwards she rested her chin on his stomach and smirked.

“Well, I know now why you’re really a Slytherin,” she said.

“Impudent houri,” Severus replied with a smirk of his own.

He reached for her, but she swatted his hands away. “Oh, no, you don’t. Quid pro quo, my dear.”

He leered at her. “If you insist.”

She began to kiss his face, working her way down to his neck, where she nuzzled and sucked and bit until he moaned. She slid down to his chest, feasting on his nipples again, and he groaned encouragement. She changed course then: moving to the foot of the bed and running her mouth down his left foot before slipping a toe into her mouth. As she sucked each toe in turn he twisted beneath her in a frenzy. Bloody hell. How did she know he liked this? He hadn’t even known until she did it!

She left his feet and slid back up, moving to the center of his body, where she parted his thighs and proceeded to bite, suck, kiss and lick the sensitive skin there until Severus was torn between begging her to stop or begging for her to never stop. When he thought he could take no more of that pleasure, Hermione leisurely moved her hands and mouth. She carefully took his testicles into her mouth, gently sucking them while he moaned constantly. His hips pressed up to meet her hands as they closed around his cock and explored the wet tip, the ridge that ran on the underside, the smooth skin covering the hard tissue.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione began to lick the folds and crevices of his sac, moving her mouth to the bottom of his shaft. She licked him from tip to base, gently at first, then with more pressure, one hand slipping back down to cup his sac. She ran her tongue around the top as though she was licking an ice cream cone, in circle after circle, before finally pressing the head between her lips. She sucked only the tip for a long moment, probing the tiny hole, licking away his fluids while he lay shuddering beneath her.

“Hermione,” he pleaded with a gasp.

She kissed his cock, encircling it with her fingers before she began sucking on him in earnest. Severus made a string of inarticulate cries, thrusting himself against her mouth, but not so much at to choke her. Merlin’s beard, and every other part of him! She certainly knew how to do this almost perfectly! Another minute of two of her mouth and he’d be lost, and that’s not how he wanted their first time to be.

“Stop,” he said raggedly. “Hermione, stop.”

She did, arching an eyebrow at him. “Anything wrong?” she asked, eyes wide with feigned innocence.

“Come here,” he said. She slid on top of him, and he cupped her face in his hands. “That was remarkable. But I want to be inside you now.”

“Yes,” she breathed, opening her thighs further, fitting him between them.

He brushed her hair back. “Take me into you,” he whispered.

She grasped him with one hand and braced herself with the other, bringing him to her entrance and slowly guiding him into the warm wet haven.

He gently thrust into her, wrapping his hands around her back. They rocked against each other in a slow, sensual rhythm for what seemed like an eternity, neither wanting to rush it, both taking pleasure in the joining of their bodies. The silence was broken by gasps and whispers, sighs of pleasure and tender declarations of feeling, of possessiveness. After a while, Severus was no longer certain of where he ended and Hermione began: he lost the ability to realize who initiated a thrust, or out of whose lips a whimper escaped. There were no longer any borders between them: they were the same being.

He pushed himself all the way up into her, loving the look on her face, how her mouth formed a wide “O” of pleasure to feel him so deep inside her. She pressed tight against him, grinding her hips, and was rewarded by his passionate sighs. He could feel himself reaching the brink again, knew that he couldn’t hold out for much longer.

“Hermione,” he whispered.

“Come for me, Severus,” she murmured against his neck. “I want you to come for me now. Let me hear you come.”

He moaned, thrusting harder against her, and she matched his movements, reckless in her gyrations, urging him to release himself within her. When he did, it was with a wild, forceful cry, his back arching like a bow, his face flushed and tense before relaxing into an expression of pure pleasure.

He immediately pulled her down against him, lavishing her face with kisses, murmuring into her hair sweet words that he’d never thought he’d say to a woman. She nuzzled her face to his, feeding on his mouth for a long moment before looking into his eyes, seeing the same joy and peace that she felt reflected in their dark depths.

“That was brilliant!” she exclaimed.

He laughed so hard his sides ached. “I suppose that’s as good a way of putting it as any,” he gasped.

She carefully pulled herself off him, then moved to lie beside him, her head on his chest and an arm over his waist.

“It’s raining,” she whispered, hearing for the first time the drops pattering on the roof.

He sleepily stroked her tangled hair. “Yes, it is.”

She reached down to pull the covers over them, then snuggled closer against him. She looked up at him, and he saw the caring and determination in her eyes.

“We belong to each other now,” she told him.

He nodded. “Yes, we do.” It was true: he’d felt it even before they’d shared their bodies, but this final step sealed the certainty.

She smiled at his response, and they shared one last lazy kiss before closing their eyes and falling asleep.