Pillow Fight

Minerva McGonnagal had been quite surprised to find her bedroom empty when she entered it. Had she not still been reeling from the daiquiris and the encounter with Severus and the girls, she might have recalled the whole reason for partying with them in the first place. Albus had left earlier that day on another mission that would ultimately help cause the downfall of the Dark Lord, this time, hopefully, once and for all.

With a heavy sigh she closed her eyes and stepped out of her garments. She contemplated a soak in the tub, but it wouldn’t be nearly as good without her lover there to rub her shoulders with sweet vanilla. Slipping into a flowing scarlet cotton gown, faded and old, but clean and not threadbare, she sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing her temples. There was a bottle of hangover potion somewhere, she knew it.

After scavenging the room for what seemed like hours, but in reality was only a few moments, she found the bottle, downed its contents and lay back in the large, empty bed. Loneliness crept through her veins, seeping through her skin as the sheets covered her. Sitting up, she moved to her vanity and ran a brush through her long waterfall of hair, twisting into a tight plait that hung heavy down her back. It was best to keep her tresses from tangling in the night if she could help it.

A few more moments of contemplation had her pacing around outside Severus Snape’s door. She’d managed to creep past Molly’s door and ventured up the stairs. There she stood, hand outstretched to the doorknob, but she didn’t turn it. With a sigh, her eyes fell to the floor, bare toes wiggling with anxiety.

He felt her presence lingering, the little redhead with her toes tapping against the hardwood just outside his bedroom door. Why had she lingered? And more importantly, how was he going to insist she go back to bed? Moving to the door, he pulled it open, ready to terrorize the girl in hopes that she would leave, only his eyes were met with the soft scarlet cotton of a nightgown rather than the skimpy pajamas the girl had been wearing.

“I’m sorry to bother you,” she said, leaning forward a bit, he stepped back. She closed her eyes, afraid he was going to shut the door in her face, she had been the reason he’d gotten into the middle of the very compromising situation with the girls. “I’m sober…and I’m sorry.” She offered, looking up to him, eyes pleading.

Peering out into the hallway, he looked first across it to the bathroom and then down to the stairs before nodding and holding the door open for her. Minerva leaned against the heavy oak of the door and sighed, eyes not meeting his. She didn’t know quite what to say and he certainly wasn’t making it any easier, his stoic yet predictable silence nearly unnerving her.

Severus watched her, leaning against the nightstand, his arms crossed casually over his bare chest. Ginevra Weasley he could handle and he had. But Minerva McGonnagal, she was an entirely different story. He sensed in her something different, the same something he had found in her when he’d pinned her to the bed in that flicker of a moment that they’d shared. After a decided moment of thought he cleared his throat. “Is there something I can do for you, or do you make it a general habit to lurk around outside people’s bedroom doors?”

At his words Minerva raised her eyes to meet his. It took her several moments to decide to move from her place against the back of the door over to where he stood. Placing her palms against his chest she gazed up at him, the man did tower over her a good deal. “Back in the other bedroom, with the girls, you were-”

“Inappropriate,” he said. He closed his eyes. She had come to reprimand him. It was most likely in both their best interests that she was sober while doing so. A sigh escaped his lips and his eyes flashed open to the touch of her nose against his collarbone. “Minerva?” he questioned, and then steeled himself in case she decided to bite.

“You were wildly out of line, just like the rest of us…” she whispered. Her nails raked down his chest and he shivered. The minx in her was quickly making its colors known. “It’s been so long…” her voice was barely more than a rasp of vowels and consonants as she leaned forward, pressing her cotton nightgown against his torso. “I put you in that situation-”

Severus smoothed his palm over her lips until he silenced her. “What’s done is done, and it should stay that way.” If she meant to seduce him, it wouldn’t take much effort even if he knew it was wrong. It was wrong when he pleasured the Weasley girl, what was to stop him from receiving a little pleasure from a colleague? Aside from the haunting thought of Albus, although that hadn’t mattered much when the older wizard had fallen dead the first time.

Minerva had came seeking him in a grief stricken rage shortly after Albus’ death, and after nearly beating him within an inch of his life (she was surprisingly agile and strong for an older woman) she violently fucked him senseless and a passionate relationship based solely on sex and the need for physical companionship continued until Albus revealed himself alive several months later.

“You’re still hard,” she brushed her lips over his ear, standing on the tips of her toes to do so. A shiver shot through him, it would easily be his undoing if she kept her nails riding over his exposed flesh and her lips whispering harsh, catlike words into his ear. She chuckled, the soft cotton of her nightgown sliding down his stomach as she turned in a circle and slowly started to saunter toward the door. “It’s a shame what’s done is done…”

If it was a game of cat and mouse she was baiting him with, she’d just caught her fish; hook, line, and sinker. Lunging forward he grabbed her roughly around the hips, picking her up and swinging her down onto the bed, coming down atop her. The mattress gave way to their weight and sank beneath them as he ravished her neck, hands clawing at her gown. Minerva moaned deep, her eyes rolling back into her head.

The woman wasted no time, her legs shooting forward to wrap tightly around his hips. Arms were flying in all directions, his tugging to unbraid her plait, hers tangling into his hair and encircling his shoulders. She bucked her hips forward and rocked them back until both were sitting up, bodies knotted together. Streaks of crimson blurred their vision as he managed to pull her nightgown up over her head, fluttering cotton competing to be heard over their panting breaths.

Minerva’s body was exposed to him and he dipped his head forward, capturing her left nipple in his mouth, nipping her roughly and she growled. Her breasts were full, and for her age, well maintained, not showing a single wrinkle on her taught flesh. Tangling his fingers into her hair, which tumbled well down her back, Severus licked and suckled at her breasts until her hands, which had managed to slip down between them without his notice, jerked suddenly against his hips and pushed him back, his trousers coming down.

“Wench,” he panted as she yanked his trousers and silks down to his ankles where he unceremoniously kicked them to the floor. With a shove she pushed him all the way down until he was flat on his back and she was hovering over him. Greedy lips strained up his hands grasping her face, but she turned away, sinking her teeth into the side of his neck. He let lose a growl, which grew into a moan as she grabbed his wrists and held them tightly above his head. It wasn’t worth the extra effort to really fight her. The last time he’d tried to throw her off he’d ended up with a cracked rib.

Her slick folds were dripping as she straddled him and impaled herself with a shuddering moan. “Shh!” he hissed, hands moving up to guide her hips, though she was quick to swat them away. “You’ll wake- ah!” he growled, her fingers tweaking his nipples tightly. She was quite the dominatrix, thrusting herself onto him at a maddening pace, her long tresses flowing wildly around her body, tickling his, her breasts bouncing up and down mere inches from his face.

Flesh slapping against flesh, the only sound to be heard, their panted moans drowned out as he fought with her, pushing his hips hard up from beneath, trying to topple her reign, but she held firm, milking him with every gyration. She could feel herself nearing orgasmic bliss but was struggling to hold on, he had to come before she did.

“Severus,” she panted, raking her nails once again up his chest, this time digging them into his shoulders. Little half moon welts would remain come the morning, along with various other bruises on his body from her rough mannerism. “Come for me,” it wasn’t a plea, but a command. And he struggled against it, trying desperately not to give in to the sweet release that her slick tight cunt was willing to offer.

“Come first,” he moaned as she pulled herself almost all the way off his throbbing prick before slamming herself down again. Capturing her hips with his hand he held her still and then lifted her, having control for the briefest of seconds before he was blinded by a whip of her hair, never seeing the sharp teeth that nearly punctured the skin at the hollow of his throat. “Ooh,” he moaned, feeling the vibrations of his voice sucked right out through his skin and into her mouth.

“Be a good boy, and come,” she mumbled in gasps against his flesh, her brow slick with sweat. Liquid velvet was against her cheek, as his tongue caressed her face. She whimpered, sucking at his Adam’s apple before allowing her teeth to fall hard into his right shoulder, molten copper spilling past her lips and down her throat.

A low growl rose from his throat, the delicious torture of that sensitive spot that she’d broken the skin of so many times before, the pain that surged through him, for just under the skin was a nerve that seemed to run all through his front and back, and the jolt of pain that shot through his body became his undoing. With a feral growl he came, hot cum spurting into her still thrusting cunt. His body was shaking too hard to still her hips, each thrust milking him further.

Minerva screamed, tossing her head back and as the ends of his climax trailed off, her walls clamped tight and her body began to convulse as she rode out the gargantuan wave of her orgasm. Her limbs went into spasms, her eyes rolling back in her head, but in a moment it was over and she fell atop him, panting, heart racing. With his member deflated, the slightest shift in his hips allowed for her to topple off him and onto the mattress.

Her chest and head still rested against him, eyes closed, trying to let her breath return to her stinging lungs. Severus found his hands idly stroking her hair, petting her almost lovingly. Silence dominated the room for a long time. Once her heart had stopped racing and she was thoroughly relaxed against him, she chanced a glance up. “Thanks,” came the soft mutter from her lips.

“Mm,” he nodded, and kissed the top of her head. “He’ll be alright,” he added.

“I know,” she said, though she didn’t really believe herself.

“Minerva,” he threaded his fingers through her tresses, reveling in the silky feel of them against his palm.

“Hmm?”

“Why didn’t you ever kiss me?”

“What?” she tilted her head, looking up at him.

“We’ve never kissed,” he said, shrugging a bit. It hadn’t bothered him until he’d kissed Ginevra Weasley not long before the dominatrix had entered his room. During their entire relationship after the headmaster’s first death, they had never kissed, not once, and even now they had still not shared the simplest of affections.

“I don’t know, Severus, did you want me to kiss you?” she offered and pulled herself up to sitting. The room was quite chilly, though she surmised it to be more from the loss of the warm body she had been resting half on top of.

He looked away, but only for a moment before shrugging his shoulders again. “Assuming you know how,” he smirked a bit and watched in delighted glee as she rolled her eyes.

“Come here, you big twit,” she pulled his face forward and crushed her lips to his, forcing her tongue into his mouth, and holding his head firmly in place. A moment later she pulled back. “There.”

Severus shook his head. “Ever the forceful one,” he said as she stood from the bed. “Are you going?”

“You didn’t expect me to stay, did you?”

He shook his head, although the warm body would have been nice. They had made a rule the first time they had consummated after their first encounter. Never go to bed for the night with the other, it would save the heartache and heartbreak of both of them for she could never give her heart to him and furthermore she was convinced he had no heart to give. At the time, he was willing to agree with her on both counts.

“Goodnight then, Severus,” she said and picked up the red gown from the floor, slipping the cottony fabric back over her head with ease. “And thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he muttered, pulling the sheets up over his lower half and watching her as she moved to the door, slid through it and pulled it shut. “What a night,” he muttered and laid his head back on the pillow.