Yuleride

Chapter 41 ~ Under the Stars

”Oh, stop the car!” Hermione exclaimed, her face pressed to the glass. They had just left a store where Hermione purchased Haruun and herself traveling clothes for their return to England. The spa, breakfast and museum had been wonderful and they were on their way to see the pyramids. Baruti Massri was with them, since the hotel’s guide had another engagement, but Baruti had been a guide for two years, so filled the role adequately

Baruti called to the driver in Arabic and told him to stop.

”What is it, Hermione? I want to ride the horses,” Haruun complained, as the witch opened the door.

”I—I need to buy something,” she said. “You can wait here or go get something to eat. It’s probably going to take half an hour at least.”

”Half an hour? That is an eternity,” Haruun groused.

Baruti, ever on the lookout to keep the peace said, “Haruun, we will go ahead to the pyramids, and I will send the car back for Miss Granger. Will that do?”

Haruun pouted a bit. It would be more fun with Hermione.

”What store are you going to?” the boy questioned.

Hermione pointed. There was a large sign in Arabic. Underneath it was one in English.

”Mad Hassan’s House of Thobes, Badlahs and Other Costumes.”

”That one,” she said.

Haruun sounded the sign out. Hermione was teaching him to read and would never read things to him if she thought he could get it himself. He had a fairly good English vocabulary.

Baruti reddened a bit. The clothing is that store was very—revealing. The windows were blacked out because of this, so as not to give men ideas. But Hermione wanted to go in there.

”It is a woman’s shop,” he said to Haruun. “Nothing for you there. We will go to the pyramids. You will like it better.”

“But Hassan is a man’s name,” Haruun argued, curious now, especially with the blackened windows. “What’s in there?”

”Clothes for women,” Hermione told him, getting out of the limo. “You go with Mr. Massri, Haruun. I’ll catch up to you shortly. Horses, remember?”

Haruun had wanted to try riding horses since he was very little. He thought they were magnificent with their smooth backs and great speed. Much better than stupid, biting camels.

”All right. I will go. But it will not be as fun without you, Hermione,” he said, falling back against the seat and folding his arms like Snape did when he was displeased.

”You won’t feel that way when you see the horses,” she said consolingly.

”If you are not ready in half an hour, the driver will wait,” Baruti informed her.

”Thank you. Bye, Haruun,” Hermione said, closing the door.

She watched the limo pull away, then walked up to the storefront, opened the door and entered.

She found herself in a small shop. Sexy Egyptian music played softly in the background and beautiful glittering costumes of all types hung on the walls and were displayed on racks. A lovely, older Egyptian woman was behind the counter, and she smiled at Hermione.

”Welcome to Hassan’s,” she said, walking from behind the counter.

”Hello. I’m looking for something—er—special,” she said with a little embarrassment.

The woman smiled at her.

”Every woman who enters Hassan’s is looking for something special. What is the occasion?” she asked Hermione.

”Ah—well, I’m going on a kind of date and want to surprise my—my companion,” Hermione replied, reddening again.

The woman gave a knowing smile.

”Ah, surprise him. Yes, I think I understand,” she said, looking Hermione over. She was short, but the seamstress could adjust the fit. “Come with me.”

Hermione eventually found herself surrounded by three other, younger Egyptian women who were very anxious to help her pick something out. They finally did, and as Hermione was being fitted, they exclaimed over her.

”Will you dance?” one giggling girl asked her.

”Dance? No,” Hermione said.

”Oh, you simply must dance when you wear a Badlah,” another girl said. “It makes men mad with passion. He would give you the pyramid of Giza if he could.”

”Well, I don’t know how to dance in this,” Hermione said, holding out her arms so the straps could be adjusted.

”Oh, there are only a few moves you need to know. We can show you,” the first girl said, as the others agreed, one running to the counter, reaching behind it and turning up the music, then running back to the fitting room, pulling the privacy curtain tightly closed. The older woman smiled and just shook her head.

They were wicked girls.

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When Snape entered the hotel that evening, the clerk behind the counter did a double take because he was dressed like a Bedouin, his robes black and his face wrapped so only his narrowed black eyes showed.

She stared at him as he strode to the elevator, pressed the button and waited for it. By his demeanor, she imagined he either had a room here or was someone’s guest. So she didn’t try to stop him out of fear of insulting him. He entered the elevator and rode up to the fourteenth floor. He exited the elevator, walked to the suite and entered.

The first sight that met his eyes was Haruun and a young man of about twenty sitting on the couch playing a video game, Haruun bouncing all over as he mowed down the enemy with a huge gun. It was quite a realistic point of view and the game was obviously very violent. Snape might have said something about this, except Haruun knew about violence first hand and was well aware what death was. He wouldn’t mix up the fantasy with the reality.

Suddenly Haruun noticed him and the young man with him hit the pause button as the boy dropped the controller and ran over to the wizard, looking him over.

”You look like a desert dweller,” he said, plucking at Snape’s robes. Snape slapped his hand away.

”It has been my experience to dress like a native when moving among natives, Haruun. Besides, this clothing protects me from the desert during the day,” he said to the boy tightly. “Now, if you are through commenting on my attire, where is Hermione?”

Haruun pointed to Hermione’s bedroom.

”She’s in there. She has been there for two hours, ever since we returned. And this is Ryan, my companion for the night,” he said, pointing to the American sitting on the couch, who gave Snape a wave but said nothing. He was just making a few extra pounds.

Snape walked to the door just as Hermione opened it. Her hair was nicely curled, and she had on a bit of make-up, mascara and a hint of lipstick. But she wore a rather plain robe, and had a little carry-all in one hand. She gasped as she saw Snape, looking positively evil with his narrowed eyes and wrapped face. He looked as if he’d come to abduct her.

He had in a way.

”You are wearing makeup,” he said shortly.

”Just a little. A woman needs to make an effort, Severus,” she said to him.

Snape snorted.

”Not you. And why do you need a carry-all?”

”I just do,” she snapped at him. “Stop being so critical—or—“

”Or what?” Snape growled at her. “After the day I’ve had witch, I need you cooperative. However, if you don’t want to be cooperative, I have no problem resorting to other means, such as throwing you over my shoulder and abducting you.”

Snape might have been slight of build, but he was very strong. He’d have no problem wrestling her down as long as she didn’t use magic on him. Hermione thought she might like being abducted by the wizard—it would serve as foreplay, but decided against invoking his wrath, which would definitely be a part of his spiriting her away.

“Let’s just go,” she said, walking past him with a bit of attitude.

Snape’s eyes glittered after her.

”Let’s,” he breathed, striding behind her.

”Haruun, you behave while we’re gone,” Hermione said to the youngster, who was busily blowing tanks to pieces.

”I will,” he said, not taking his eyes off the screen. He let out a yell as several enemies appeared, firing at him. He managed to duck behind some debris. “Ryan, where are you?”

”Right here,” the young man next to him said, appearing on the screen and cutting the enemies down.

Haruun let out an Arabic war-cry that startled Hermione.

”He’ll be fine. Let us go,” Snape said silkily against her ear. He had walked up close behind her and pulled down his face-wrap, leaning and letting his warm breath tickle her lobe. Already he was beginning his seduction.

Hermione’s eyelids fluttered.

”Let’s,” she breathed.

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Soon, Hermione found herself on Snape’s broom, tucked back against the wizard as they flew through the night sky, the stars seeming close enough to touch, the wizard’s arms around her protectively as he rested his chin on her shoulder and told her about most of his day.

”My day was quite productive,” Snape said softly. “I managed to recoup the finances spent on this excursion.”

Hermione was surprised about this.

”How? She asked him.

”I spoke with—shall I say a philanthropist who is also a wizard, and told him of our adventure. After he made sure I was telling the truth, I negotiated a very generous finder’s fee for giving him the location of Thoth’s chamber. It seems he is interested in freeing the souls of those unfortunates so they can move on to the Afterlife. So our trip was not a total bust.”

“That’s very kind of him,” Hermione said.

”Yes, and has the added bonus of making him even more suitable for entering Heaven or wherever he believes he will go after death,” Snape said sarcastically.

Hermione half turned.

”Do you believe everyone who does good has to have an ulterior motive?” she asked him.

”If they’re smart, yes,” he replied silkily.

Hermione just sighed. Some beliefs were just ingrained in the wizard.

”I also negotiated use of his lands for tonight. Fornicating by the pyramids could get us six months in jail if we were caught, and that doesn’t include public nudity and lewdness. We could find ourselves staying an additional two years in the Egyptian facilities because of our libidos. As delicious as I find you, witch, that is entirely too much time for a night of pleasure. So I made other arrangements.”

They were flying over the desert now and Hermione could make out four tiny orange glows on the ground. Suddenly Snape dove toward them, Hermione letting out a scream at his speed and pressing back into him, the wizard smirking as he leveled out, circled, then landed, his boots dragging in the sand. Hermione panted against him as they came to a stop.

”We’ve arrived,” he said softly as she quivered.

”You really need to work on your landings,” Hermione said as he released her and she slid off the broom. She looked around.

”Oh, Severus,” she breathed. “It’s beautiful.”

They were at an oasis, a landlocked lagoon surrounded by lush date palm trees and other plants and smaller fruit trees. The air was sweet and moist, and four evenly spaced torches were stuck in the sand, giving the area a warm glow. There was a small table on which sat a bowl of local fruits, wine, and two glasses. Two cushioned chairs waited by the table. Beyond this, near the water’s edge was what looked like an over-sized ottoman, piled with all types of pillows and cushions. The stars glittered like diamonds above the setting. It was truly lovely and romantic.

As Hermione stood looking at the scene, Snape walked up behind her and gently slipped his arms around her waist.

”A beautiful setting, indeed ,” he said softly. “And we are on private lands, so will not be interrupted. Are there enough stars for you, Hermione Granger? Enough glittering diamonds to bear witness to our passion beneath the Egyptian sky?”

Gods, Severus could speak so beautifully when he wished to do so. Hermione looked up into that great expanse, her brown eyes reflecting the myriad lights above. There were so many stars and it was all so beautiful. She turned in Snape’s arms, looking up at his partially covered face, then slowly unwrapped the fabric, tossing it over his shoulder.

”Yes, there are enough stars, Severus,” she said, her eyes resting on his mouth. Snape didn’t hesitate and gently pressed his lips against hers, suckling them tenderly, taking his time as he initiated foreplay. Hermione marveled that such a volatile man could seem so tender. But there were moments for harshness and far too few for tenderness in Snape’s life. Snape deepened the kiss, tapping at her lips with the tip of his tongue, then entering as they parted, tasting her heat and sweetness once again, his body responding.

Hermione could feel heat slowly pouring over her like honey as she felt him throbbing against her. He wasn’t holding her tightly, but their bodies were in contact, and that monstrous tool of his made it clear her proximity aroused him. In turn, he aroused her.

Snape lapped at Hermione’s mouth, his head twisting this way and that as he scoured every part of it, tangling her tongue in his own, unable to fight the image taking over his mind of him entwined in her limbs as he took her. He pulled back from her mouth.

”Tell me you aren’t hungry, Hermione,” he said softly.

He didn’t want to stop to eat.

”Not for food,” she replied softly.

”Good,” he breathed, beginning to back her toward the ottoman. Suddenly, she stopped. She still had her little carry-all in her hand.

”Wait,” she said to the wizard, whose nostrils flared with impatience.

”Wait? Hermione—” he protested, stopping anyway.

”I want to show you something,” she told him.

”You can show me when we reach the bed,” he said hoarsely, starting to back her up again. Hermione stalled.

”No, I’m serious. I have to show you something, Severus. Go sit on the bed and wait for me. It will only take a moment,” she pleaded.

Severus let her go, dropping his hands with disgust.

”Why do women always want to ruin the moment with—atmosphere?” he groused, then stalked over to the ottoman and plopped down on it like a miffed little boy, his arms folded.

”So, show me. I’m sure whatever you have for my perusal would be far more interesting over here, than over there,” he said in irritation.

”Wait, I have to go where it’s dark first. Then I’ll show you,” Hermione said, quickly walking beyond the range of the torchlight, which was a little distance.

”Oh, good grindelows,” Snape swore, his face screwed up as she disappeared. Then he leaned down and started to take off his boots and socks. He might as well do something constructive as Hermione wasted good shagging time.

He sat up again, barefoot and ready. A couple of minutes passed.

”Hermione!” he called, “Blast and bother! What are you doing?”

Suddenly, he could make out a shape walking toward him. He squinted, then his eyes widened as Hermione walked, rather sexily into the torchlight.

Snape’s jaw dropped as he took in what the witch wore. It looked like, like a traditional Egyptian slave girl costume. Of course it wasn’t, it was a Badlah, a belly-dancing costume, but Snape was a man. Slave just jumped out at him.

Hermione was veiled, her curly hair pulled back slightly by a golden band. Her taunt belly was exposed, the bra portion of her outfit featuring a halter neck strap and over arm straps. A slim t-shaped belt was attached to it. The scarlet outfit had a pattern of rows made of gold sequins, and several types of barrel beads. Silver diamontes formed a pattern of pyramids and cartouches. Two slits ran up the sides of the skirt, exposing a hint of thigh on either side. She also wore matching gloves and an arm band. She entwined her arms, snaking them upward. She looked amazing.

Snape’s mouth worked, but nothing came out as he looked at the veiled woman standing in front of him bathed in torchlight. He stood up and began to walk toward her, his eyes glittering.

”No, wait,” Hermione said softly, holding out her hand. “Sit back down, Severus. This isn’t the only thing I wanted to show you.”

Snape stopped, his body quivering as he forced it back under control. It wanted the woman standing there looking like every man’s fantasy. He stiffly backed up until the back of his legs hit the ottoman, then he sat down. His pale face was sober as he looked at Hermione. Dear gods, he needed to get his hands and other parts on her. She was a succubus.

Hermione slowly walked toward him, swaying her hips the way the girls at the shop had taught her.

”Every movement of your body must be an invitation,” they told her as they stood in a line, showing her how to thrust and roll her hips and belly.

Hermione couldn’t actually roll her belly, but she could still make it move sensuously. And she could shake her bum and breasts. It would be more than adequate.

Snape sat still as stone, only a low whine-like sound escaping his throat as Hermione began to move, the only music necessary—the age old song of desire.

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A/N: Go Hermione! Lol. Well, we’re on our way, girls. :) Thanks for reading!