Lendoren

The characters belong to Jo, the story to kelokelo, the translation to septentrion and the betaing to Tanit

I’m so sorry for the delay, but Tanit’s webmail and mine didn’t want to communicate together anymore, and it took us a while to figure it out.

Chapter 32. Passion in The Dungeons.

During the following weeks, Severus waited for an opportunity to make one of his fantasies come true, the one involving those two little pieces of lace he’d offered to Hermione. She’d said she wanted to use them for a special occasion, but he already had a special occasion planned in his mind, one that which he didn’t want to reveal to her beforehand. If she ever caught wind of it, he was sure she’d try to stop him from realising it. He only had to pick a favourable day to implement it, when the Gryffindors were in his last class of the day.

After several weeks, by the end of February, he lost patience and acted in an underhand manner. That day, he settled the clock to wake them up late, and they had to dress hastily. He tossed her the lacy underwear. She cast him a dark look; he made as if he was going to lose his temper and said, “Hermione! I tossed you the first underwear I caught in the drawer. Well, you can lose time and change them, but I warn you, I won’t write you a word of excuse for your tardiness!”

He hadn’t lied about tossing her the first underwear he’d caught in the drawer, he’d put them on top of the rest himself the day before.

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He was tense when his last class with the Gryffindors began that day. It wasn’t out of anger but out of desire. He wanted her to be as impatient as he was when the lesson finished so that her inhibitions would have fled by then.

As soon as she started with her potion, Hermione felt Erwin’s virtual caresses on her neck. She looked daggers at him, but he didn’t look her way. He seemed to pay a great attention to his students’ cauldrons and didn’t miss an occasion to rail the colour of their potions. He really seemed to act as usual, but she knew the caresses were very real, and she could now felt them on all her body. He was aware that she wouldn’t dare retaliate in a classroom full of students. Nonetheless, she tried to reason with him through their link.

“Erwin, stop! How am I supposed to concentrate on my potion?”

“As you wish, my dear. Wouldn’t it be a pity, should you fail your potion for once?”

He was teasing her, and this did nothing to reassure her. What was on his mind? His face was as expressionless as ever, and the students didn’t notice a thing, but Hermione was utterly conscious of her parted lips and of her ever shorter breath.

His caresses were getting more insistent and intimate. Severus thanked Merlin for his teaching robes that were efficiently concealing his desire for Hermione, which his trousers alone couldn’t do anymore. This lesson felt slower than any other. He was fuelling their mutual desire using caresses that soothed and exacerbated it alternately.

When the clock hands reached the time the lesson ended, Hermione was out of herself. She was both angry with him for taking the liberty of arousing her during class, his class, and with herself for finding the moral strength to cut their link. She could have done it, but felt no desire to do so. In fact, right now, she wanted to go straight to her rooms with him and forfeit her time in the library. She’d let him to trouble her several times so much that her potion was orange instead of red, which astounded Harry and Ron. Harry whispered to her, while the students were packing their potions kit, “What’s wrong, Hermione? I’ve seen the colour of your potion …”

“I’m going to kill him! I swear I’m going to kill him,” she hissed. “He’s going to pay for what he did tonight.”

“Miss Granger, given the colour of your potion, I must ask you to stay behind.”

Hermione’s eyes were stormy, and she was hurling abuse at him through their link. It was hard, but she was managing to keep the draughts at bay, at least while there still were students in the classroom.

Severus kept watching her in the eyes and not answering her. He was only waiting for the other students to get out so that he could satisfy their mutual desire. Even though she was angry now, he knew that as soon as he would take her in his embrace, she would let it go. He came up to the door in order to carefully close it, but before he could reach it, he heard Hermione screech—there was no another word for it—the Silencing Spell and the door being magically closed. She was really angry and ready to retaliate to his inappropriate caresses. However, she kept quiet, even in their link, when he abruptly but sincerely told her, “My dear, I’ve been dreaming for weeks of seeing you wearing my Christmas gift. Please, don’t ruin this wonderful moment with your inappropriate anger.”

He took advantage of her astonishment to reach for her, to take her in his arms in a way that prevented her from moving, and passionately kissed her. Hermione moaned, half to protest and half because of the pleasure she felt. He forced her to open her mouth; time was not for softness but for bare passion. When he felt her capitulating, he gave her some space but only for him to undress her.

“Erwin,” she moaned, shocked. “Not here.”

He didn’t even answer her, he was too busy kissing her and freeing her from her uniform. Quickly, she only had on her the clothing he wanted to see: a delicate black lace which complimented her breast rather than hiding it, and through which he could her nipples, hardened by her desire. Lower, the transparent lace didn’t hide anything of her femininity, and above all didn’t prevent him to reach for the soft roundness of her lower-back.

Hermione’s cheeks were burning. She knew she shouldn’t have let him have his way with her, but she didn’t prevent his greedy hands from caressing her and his eyes from enjoying the view. He made her sit on a table edge, and she instinctively wrapped her legs around his hips. However, she was impatient and waiting for the moment when he would take her to their rooms to possess her entirely. Only when he hold her arms away to encourage her to lie down on the table did she understand that he had no intention of going to their rooms. He was going to make love to her there, in his classroom.

When he slid his hand under the lace between her legs, a moan of pleasure escaped her mouth instead of the protest she had first intended to voice. Severus knew then that he’d won, that she’d let him do whatever pleased him, wherever he wanted. He pushed her in a more comfortable position on the table, tugged her lacy knickers aside with one hand and explored her femininity with his mouth. He heard her to stop breathing and felt her hips pushing up when he penetrated her with his tongue. She was on the verge of her climax, and he intended to take her there.

Hermione had lost conscience of anything that wasn’t that inquisitive tongue that had her moaning. It wasn’t long before she felt her peak approaching. She could only abandon herself to pleasure.

While Hermione was catching her breath with difficulty, eyes closed and hands still gripping the table, Severus quickly undressed, reluctantly took her lacy and soaked knickers off, and smoothly penetrated her. She’d reached a peak so high that she didn’t realise it before he was entirely sheathed inside her. Her wide eyes only coaxed a sly grin out of Severus. He pushed her legs up to put them on his shoulders and started going back and forth inside her.

Hermione had never known she could feel so much pleasure so quickly after an orgasm, but his body was asking for more. They had closed their eyes to better concentrate on the sensation created by their joining, and were paying attention to their partner’s reactions. Hermione revelled in Severus’ powerful but controlled movements; Severus revelled in her complete abandon and her very welcoming heat. He accelerated little by little to make their fusion between their bodies last. However, their embrace became almost violent when their climax took over them, and their cries of relief echoed in the classroom.

Reality quickly caught with them, for the temperature was icy in the dungeons in February. Severus carried Hermione back to the warmth of their rooms. He Summoned their clothes so that no traces of their frolics remained in the classroom.

“You’ve went too far,” Hermione growled, curled in his arms. But her anger had been quelled by the whirlwind of pleasure he’d brought upon her.

“I’ve been dreaming of it since Christmas, my dear. I wanted to enjoy my Christmas gifts to you, and I also wanted you to have better memories of the dungeons. You’re magnificent, Hermione. I’m not ashamed to desire you that way, and neither should you.”

“What about my potion? Did you want me to have poorer marks?”

“Marks don’t count this year. What’s important is what you’ll do when the NEWTs come. We both know that your potion was a bit botched today, but I’ll leave you alone when you take your exam.”


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Citten 2007-01-30: the wedding was fine, and the weather was beautiful. Everyhting's well, except for the lack of cooperation of my webmail.