Punishment

Title: Punishment
Author: KurtCouper
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Hermione/Severus, Draco/Blaise/Hermione
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine
Summary: Hermione has detention and she catches Professor Snape in an act that she can't deny. Basically a smutfic.

Chapter 3

Hermione was lying on Severus's bed, swimming in amongst the silky black sheets, molding against every curve of her body. The cool bedding soothed her tender, injured flesh of certain scratches, bites, and bruises from when their coupling became violent. She was surprised Severus could even sit at the Teacher's Meeting he was attending since her nails found a new home. Her fingers dug into each cheek the night before, luring him closer into their embrace, begging for him to fill her completely. She didn't realize she broke the skin, blood leaking from eight crescent shaped wounds, but kissed, and frequently apologized, them better.
The thought that her lover-the near title gave her chills and a sudden wave of arousal-squirming around in an oversized, winged chair made her smirk. The pain would remind him who he belonged to, who exactly caused those injuries in the throes of passions, who he'll come back to later in the evening.

The thoughts of ownership should be shocking or at least disconcerting: that she, Hermione Granger, Muggle born, and insufferable know-it-all (as he even said first year) had such domineering feelings over an ex-right-hand-man of Voldemort and thoroughly fear and hated Potion's teacher. But it didn't matter for he was just as protective with her. During the day, she could see his dark eyes following her every movement. Sometimes she could even feel his presence embracing her if she was ever threatened. If the peril was too strong, he would step in, intimidating and dark, coming to her rescue. Even in his sleep he guarded her with his slender muscled arms, wrapped around her to keep her safe. He was just as possessive, if not more so.

Though, being a new-age feminist, the notion of an armament was debasing and undesirable, but knowing it was Severus, a dark angel of sorts, made it better. It wasn't as if she was expecting his fortification; she was, after all, in it all for the sex. But it was a nice added benefit.

They had been involved for a little over two months. During that time, they were hardly separated. She would floo from her room into his almost every night and he would be waiting. The longest the two were separate was for about three days, which they rectified in a deserted corridor, both moaning so loudly that the atmosphere vibrated around them.

Remembering his firm, tight body driving into her so immersed and vicious, fully focused on the task at hand, made a heated tingle establish in the bottom of her stomach. Severus wasn't due for another half an hour, though it was hard to tell with Headmaster Dumbledoor. He could be kept for three more hours and she would still be waiting, wetness dripping onto her thighs.

"Oh Sev," Hermione moaned, stretching further onto his bed.

Her nipples peaked against the chilly air in the dungeons sending a vibe of pleasure straight to her loins. If only Severus would come soon...

Licking her dry lips, the brunette trailed her hand south and ran her fingers through the coarse curls of her core. It would be impolite to start without him. But he could be gone for hours and she was ready now.

Taking a chance, she fondled her silken skin. Her flesh turned to goosebumps under her measures, aching into her practiced motions. She took the same actions Severus would use-caressing a strip of leg until she reached her destination.

Light touches teased her nether lips, giving her the fine line of pleasure with just enough to form a craving. She hadn't touched herself like this since before she had him, since before she was accessible for every inch of his body. Hermione imagined Severus throwing her against the bed, ripping off all her clothing, and devoured her in one kiss.

His calloused and heartless hands ran up and down the inside of her thigh, each time going further-so close to her center. Never letting her get satisfaction, he moistened the darken-rose color of her nipple with his tongue, using long, sensual strokes that had her crying out in frustration.

"Please," she begged, arching into his nonexistent body, yearning for his authentic touches.

Entering two fingers inside of herself, she plunged them greedily, meeting her fingers to each thrust. It wasn't enough; Severus always filled her to the max, fitting her perfectly. Never had a man made her feel whole with him inside of her. She inserted two more fingers that stretched her agonizingly, but oh so deliciously. If only Sev was here...

"Harder Severus," the brunette moaned while quickening her thrusts.

With her vacant hand, she taunted her bundles of nerves, not giving her the satisfaction she wanted. She never heard him enter the bedroom or the unzipping of his trousers. She did, however, feel the extra weight onto the bed which ceased her motions with wide eyes.

"Oh Severus...I was just waiting," she excused, a heavy blush finding its way to her nude body.

He chuckled enigmatically; the sound tickled her insides. Embarrassed, she tried to cover her body with her hands, but he stopped her.

"No. I want to see you," he said and kissed her collar bone. "Continue what you were doing; I want to watch."

Biting her lower lip, she nodded against his body and drew her hand back down to her cinnamon curls. She was still dripping wet, so entering her four fingers were easy.

"So beautiful," he whispered while walking to a chair settled across from the bed. Sitting down, he took his hardened member within his hands and started to pump the shaft.

Hermione accelerated her set of fingers and pushed them deeper into herself, so she could massage her g-spot. Her body tightened against the silk sheets which calmed her heated flesh.

"Yes," she hissed, furiously rubbing her clitoris.

"I want you to see your fist inside of you," came Severus’s husky voice.

His words stirred a moan from the back of her throat as she hesitantly slipped her thumb with the rest of her fingers. Her taut muscles constricted around the base of her wrist. Once the throbbing dulled, even though the twinge of pain was still there, she pumped her fist deep inside.

The feeling was amazing; she was packed to the brim. It wasn't the same as him inside of her, but it still made her scream in ecstasy.

"So close," she warned, hurrying her drives.

Her pants were becoming more frequent and she could hardly catch her breath. So close. Opening her eyes, she caught Severus's. His eyes were hooded in passion as his hand was diligently pumping away. With one last look at him, her muscles clenched around her fist. She threw back her head, her body stretched against the bedding, as her orgasm hit fiercely.

"Severus!" she screamed.

He wasn't far behind; his ball sac constricting in expectancy. He spilt his seed with a throaty grunt.

"Oh Professor," she smiled, licking her soaked fist.

He abruptly left the chair and sauntered to his bed where Hermione laid wanton and reckless, looking devilishly shagged. She was arranged on her side, her legs curled underneath her, exposing her soft expanse of skin. Her curls were lying against the pillow, fanned out like a crown. He took each finger into his mouth and savored her essences.

"I missed you," she moaned, grasping the side of his head and kissing him rigorously.

"Insufferable teenager," he avowed. "I was only gone an hour."

Taking his large hand with his, she brought it to her drenched opening.

"This is all for you."

Severus groaned, dipping his head into her wetness and slurped up her release. She tasted discerning and sweet, like honey, yet something so unrefined it could only be solely Hermione. It was addictive; she was addictive. She was in his blood now, submerged underneath his pallid skin, and he didn't think he could let her go now.

"Ohh, stop. Please. So sore," she said through shallow breaths and brought him back up to her, lying beside her. "You wear me out, old man," she yawned.

"Finished everything?" he asked, inwardly groaning. It was times like these where he felt ancient and old enough to be her father, which reminded him how inappropriate the situation was.

"As in homework? Yeah. I've finished all my homework for the next month," she smiled. "Except for my Potion's work. Think I can talk a certain Professor into giving me some information first hand?"

He growled, biting the edge of her ear, and nuzzled his head into the crook of her neck.

"Is that what it's all about? Sleeping with the Professor to get the lesson plans in advanced? Surly you would want something more than that."

She ran her fingers through his silky mane and sucked on his full lower lip. He eagerly grasped her jaw with his forefinger and thumb, responding avariciously into a kiss.

"Yes," she moaned. "You're right. I did it all for the grades." Smiling at his sudden brutal treatment, she laughed. "But I keep coming back for the wicked sex with a very handsome bloke."

Backing away from her fervent touches, he pulled up the cordial, thick blanket around her thin body and enveloped her beside him. He slipped off his shirt, leaving him in a pair of drawstring pants that he transformed into.

"It's late. Take a nap and when we awaken, we'll continue what you left off," he commanded.

She pouted, cuddled her form near his chest, and grinded her nude pelvis against his for good measure.

"Only a quick nap," she warned, yawing once again. "Night Sev."

"Goodnight," he whispered, blowing moist, hot breath against her ear. Murmuring softly, she quickly fell into a light slumber, matching her breathing with his.

When she roused, with half of her body intermingled with his, she studied the sleeping man again. She took his hand in hers and calculated it. It was quite larger than hers; he could fold his fingers over hers effortlessly. The idea of his fist inside of her made her flinch. Tracing the lifelines on his palm, she became conscious of exactly how powerful the pair of hands was. His very soul had been defiled by the spilling of cold hard blood, faulting from those limbs. They also had tortured, maimed, and slaughtered. Yet, his ruthless and austere hands brought her the most extreme pleasure.

She realized, as she continued to outline each finger, that it was his hands that made him appear older. They were jaggy and cruel, exactly like him. The skin was overly dry, tightening around his crevices of his slender fingers. Despite being pitiless, they were urbane and debonair, having the ability to be mild and placid, even if it was against his own wishes.

"So complex," she sighed, kissing his left palm with tenderly. "Just layers and layers."

Hermione inched closer, seizing his mouth with hers. Soon he awoke to her hand trailing down to his hardening errection, teasing the velvety shaft. Thrusting tantalizingly, she took his bulbous head in her mouth, soaking up the pre-come.

"I want to try something new," she stated, ducking her head in awkwardness.

"Yes?" he hissed while his hips bucked into her palm that was rasping against his moist head.

"I don't...exactly know," the brunette declared. "I'm sure you should have some ideas being very educated in this area."

He nodded, an iniquitous notion popped into his head and pulled away from her contact. Pulling her down, he situated her so she was lying across his lap, resting alongside his engorged member that was prodding against her stomach.

"Do you trust me?" he gruffly asked, tweaking a nipple between his fingers.

"With my life," she whimpered while rocking her core counter his thigh.

"That's good," he drawled and sketched the contour of her smooth, milky globes of her arse. "Because I think you've been a bad girl," the Professor answered in a low, husky voice.

His fingers dipped into her slit and lathered two fingers with her wetness. Smothering her essences over her bottom, he licked the trail he left, biting the flesh as he did so.

"Ba-bad girl?" she whispered, turning her head so she could see him.

"I did not allow you to speak!" he growled, puncturing her left cheek forcefully.

She cried out at the pleasurable stinging he was inducing in her body. Kneading the sore cheek, he tenderly soothed down the inflamed bite mark and taunted it with the tip of his tongue. His massaging ministrations continued to the other cheek, rubbing in a circular motion, using his thumb to stroke her diffused profile.

"You sit in my class, front row, acting like such the Gryffindor princess with your legs crossed and nibbling on your sugar quills. So bloody innocent and virginal," he said, still rubbing her arse with his hand. "I want nothing more than to throw you over my desk and pound into your hot little cunt until the only word on your lips is my name," came his thick tone laced with sinful lust.

After the warming of her globes, he brought down his large hand and struck. She let out a surprised yelp, squirming around his sharp blow. A finger sketched out his flushed handprint as she writhed underneath him.

"Calm down," he shushed, slinking his hand down into her nether lips again. When he felt her wetness, he said, "This is why you need to be punished, Miss Granger. Such a tease."

The next smack came to less of a surprise, but the force of his hand was a measurably degree more brutal. It made her body tremble, with what she didn't know. She did recognize, however, her body responding to his spankings; her nipples were hardening, her dripping curls saturating his naked thigh.

The striking continued, her arse agitated and raw, yet nonetheless, she was shaking with heavy waves of arousals.

"You're so wet, Miss Granger. Are you enjoying this?" he questioned, plunging a lone finger into her core, teasing her.

She reacted intensely as she started to grind her curls against his leg, craving for friction she desired.

"Stop!" he demanded, spanking her flushed arse yet again.

The blows became more powerful under his hand. White, scolding pain erupted from behind her eyelids, making each of her atoms vibrate; throbbing. His demanding hands danced across the sore canvass, twirling around his bruised bite and back up to the small of her back.

"Oh please..." she begged, reaching her hand to grab his, so she could lead him to her center.

"You may not touch yourself, or me," he growled, dropping all contact. "For doing so, you will have a punishment added onto the first one."

Before she could process his words, she felt a hard pressure on each nipple and then a distinctive pull. Once he dropped his hands, she experienced a skin-stretching tug that complimented with the piercing sensation.

"Those are nipple clamps with weights on the end," he explained, jerking one weight down, causing her to cry out. "If you keep being bad, I'll just add more weight."

Another smack came down on the center of her arse, startling her. The crack of flesh hitting flesh as definite, hitting her ears with a pound frightened her. As her body struggled against his thighs, the nipple clamps swung, displacing the mass on different sections.

"Gods above," she whimpered, forcing her eyes closed in trying to keep herself calm.

"What did I just tell you?" he said, his hands disappearing to her chest once more. She felt a heavier pull towards the ground and tried to repress a needy moan. "Or did you want the extra hurt?"

His hand didn't shock her this time, as it connected with the aching and raw flesh of her backside. He chuckled at her subdued quiver.

"It's true," he whispered, bending his head down so she could feel his words. "You like the damage."

"Oh yes," she cried out while he whacked her arse once more.

Her body tensed, handling too much, her toes curling in hope. The brunette was so near orgasm that she could taste it on her lips.

"You may not come, you filthy whore," he snarled, noticing her signs.

Dipping his hand between her legs, he entered one finger into her tight core.

"So bloody wet," he grounded out.

With his first thrust, he whipped her bottom viciously. From the force of it all, her breath caught in the back of her throat. The tingle in her quim was too overwhelming, overpowering. He entered a second finger, slowly petting her silky walls. Accidentally, the back of his hand hit her enlarged clitoris, sending shock waves of indescribable bliss through her body.

"I'm going to come," she screamed, trembling on his lap.

"Don't you dare!" he roared, now thrusting three fingers into her at a breathtaking pace.

"Can't stop it," Hermione moaned, her body becoming rigid.

He smacked the cheeks of her arse once more, his other hand harshly pinching her clit, as her orgasm took over her body. She spasmed on his legs, causing her hard peaks to strain against the nipple clamps mighty weight. Another rush of pleasure washed over her and she convulsed again, her inner muscles squeezed around his hand.

"Oh Merlin! Severus!" she yelled while she still shook from the aftershocks of her release.

When she calmed from her orgasmic high, he rubbed the abused globes of her reddened bottom tenderly and took off the clamps from her nipples.

"Goodness," she smiled, twisting her torso so she could see him.

Taking his fingers into her mouth, she licked her release off of them, gently grazing the digit with her teeth. She rested her weight on the tops of her thighs, ignoring the pulsating ache in her bum.

"Does it hurt?", but he already was aware that it did; the heat radiating from it was incredible. With the nod of her head, he replied: "This will help the sting."

Affectionately, he massaged a magic salve into her battered and agitated rump. It instantly alleviated most of the ache and fever, letting her breath a sigh of relief.

Grasping his shaft in her hand, she pumped voraciously. As the Professor jarred into her grasp, she kissed her way down his cock, taking the tip in her mouth. He grunted as her tongue swapped underneath his head.

"Yes," he groaned while running his fingers through her mane of tangles.

She relaxed her throat muscles and took him all in, her nails biting into his own pale arse to bring him closer. He thrusted his member into her mouth, trying hard not to gag her. Humming a favorite Beatles's song, the vibration prickling his shaft.

"Yellow submarine."

His body went rigid, anticipating release. She warmed his heavy balls in her palm, experimenting with different pressures of the velvet skin. As if urging the sperm out, she sucked until her mouth concaved.

"Come for me, Severus," she whispered around his shaft.

It was all it took; he exploded in her mouth, shooting warm seed down her throat.

"You look so sexy," he moaned, stealing a kiss from the corner of her sperm-covered, fruity lips. "With my come on your chin," and licked the discharge off.

She curled into his body, exhausted and drained, dragging her palm over his chest. He relaxed into her embrace, lowering her down to his bed. Pulling up the covers that he transformed just to keep her warm when she came, he kissed the nape of her neck.

"You enjoyed your punishment again, didn't you?"

"Yeah," she chuckled. "I'm sorry."

He nibbled on the skin, arising blood to the top of her skin, praying for a hickie.

"It's okay," he dismissed. "But I think I'll enjoy trying to figure out something that you won't."