Twice Bitten ~ COMPLETED

Chapter 45 ~ Wanting To Be More

Snape accepted Hermione’s kiss. She was so young. Innocent would have been an apt description as well, except he’d taken her innocence . . . at least physically. Possibly emotionally with what he put her through.

Hermione hadn’t been the first virgin he deflowered. He’d had several in his younger days, back when sex was a sport for young Death Eaters. They used to tally up scores, keeping track of how many young women aspiring to join the Dark Lord’s ranks they gave a “third leg” up.

Snape’s looks didn’t matter to the witches then . . . he was simply a tool to get what they really wanted, the Dark Mark and he was aware of that. The young wizard’s philosophy was rather simple: If he was to be used as a tool for upwardly mobile witches, he made sure his own tool was used and used well. He really didn’t care if he were the first or not, as long as he dipped his wand liberally. Sex was both cheap and meaningless.

But that had been a different time, and he had different motivations. All those witches were substitutes, poor substitutes for the witch he’d wanted. The witch who turned away from him. Lily. Every time he touched one he took out his pain and frustration on her body, punishing her because she wasn’t Lily.

But now he realized Lily was an impossible dream, someone never meant for him. Destiny had other plans for her.

And other plans for him, it seemed. Plans that included the naked young witch on top of him, kissing him passionately. As Hermione’s soft lips, tongue and body took over his senses, Severus Snape became aware that at last, Life was offering him something good, something totally his own. All he had to do was open up and accept it. Accept her.

Snape closed his eyes and groaned as Hermione’s mouth slid over his throat, her small hands caressing him, smoothing over him as she did her best to reach him. Soft, sucking kisses covered his pale flesh, the curves of her body sliding over him as she inched lower, not missing an inch of flesh in her descent, listening to the wizard’s deep sighs of pleasure and gaining heart from it.

She’d make Severus love her . . . she had to. He was meant for her.

Snape had never had a woman kiss him in this manner. It was always the other way around, always his mouth sliding over skin, always his tongue flicking a path to paradise on a witch’s body. Hermione was the first to willingly take time with him. Oh, he had blow jobs before, but nothing that came close to the tenderness, the passion that the young woman kissing his pale body, running her lips over his scars was exhibiting now. His cock was always the focus of those experiences, never . . . him as a complete package. Just the package attached to his loins.

If Hermione wanted to get through to Snape, she had inadvertently stumbled upon the way to do it. Maybe “stumbled” wasn’t the proper word. It was more like she instinctively knew what the man beneath her needed and despite what Snape believed, it was more than physical. He wanted to be wanted, though he had difficulty believing anyone would truly want him for himself. He had spent his life pushing people away after all and done quite a good job of it.

But Hermione Granger wanted every part of Severus Snape, from his greasy hair to his less-than-stellar features to his enormous beak of a nose to his brilliant mind. Just through listening to what he had planned for the future, she knew they would be happy together. Life with the dark wizard would be fulfilling, rewarding and at times very exciting. As terrible as this situation began, the outcome was much better than she could have ever dreamed. She might have ended up with Ron if not for the professor, and in her heart she knew she would have been dissatisfied. But a true Gryffindor, she would have accepted her situation stoically and made the best of it.

Hermione Granger may have helped save the dour Potions master, but in his way . . . Snape had saved her too.

As she kissed her way down the wizard’s body, Hermione could feel his erection, hot, swollen against her, more proof that she did indeed arouse him, move him to at least physical passion. But she needed him to soften . . . not that magnificent tool pulsing against her flesh, oh no . . . not that.

It was the strong heart beating in his chest that needed to lose its hardness, needed to become soft and malleable so she could mold it to love. Hermione moved lower, kissing his belly, feeling it tighten and jump as Snape’s hands locked into her hair, his back arching as her breasts wrapped around his length. He began to shift his hips, sliding between them, Hermione catching on and partially lifting her upper body, trapping his cock and taking over, looking up at the wizard. Snape lifted his head then quickly adjusted the pillow again so he could watch Hermione, his black eyes glinting, his lips pursed as she caressed his cock between her full firm globes.

“Do you like this?” Hermione asked him softly.

Snape looked at the young woman fucking his cock with her breasts.

Like it? How the hell couldn’t he like it? He liked everything she was doing.

”Yesss, you little wanton, I like it,” he growled at her as her full globes glistened with his leakage.

Hermione’s eyes narrowed mischievously. It was time to take the plunge, so to speak and she intended to do it with style.

”Then you’re going to love this,” she said, then dipped her chin into her neck, slipped her mouth over the thick head of his cock and sucked for all she was worth

“Gaaaahhhh!” the professor gasped at the suddenness of her action, gripping the top of the headboard with both hands, the tendons in his neck and arms standing out as the delicious sensation thrummed through him.

Dear gods.

Hermione released him from her mouth, but kept her breasts bunched around his cock, which seemed even bigger now, if that were possible. It had taken on a rather pinkish hue as well. Lots of blood was flowing through those veins. Snape felt as if he could punch a hole through the stone walls with it, he was so hard. What a wicked little witch Hermione was.

”Did I do it right?” she asked the gasping wizard, who looked down at her. Didn’t she see his reaction?

Snape didn’t say anything at first, then suddenly pushed himself downward, sliding under Hermione until he was face to face with her.

”Turn around,” he hissed, “but stay on top of me.”

Hermione looked at him in confusion.

”Turn around,” he said, pushing the witch up and helping her to turn. Her back was to him now. “Now get on your hands and knees and back up. I want to taste you while you hone your skills.”

Taste her? Oh gods. Hermione felt the wizard clutching at her waist impatiently, pulling her back. She let him do it. Now her core was positioned over Snape’s face, the wizard breathing in deeply, his mouth watering. Hermione looked down at his long erection.

”Now, continue,” Snape breathed, pulling Hermione’s hips down, wrapping his arms around her and plunging his tongue into her softness, the witch letting out a satisfying squeal as he laved her sweet little orifice.

Hermione once again applied herself to the wizard’s thick tool, egged on by the feel of him licking and nibbling on her pussy, moaning around his cock as she slid up and down his length, using her hands to caress what her mouth couldn’t.

Snape was in heaven, lapping at the young witch’s sweet, musky juices, which were becoming more plentiful as she squirmed, the feel of her soft mouth and hands on his organ lifting him, his heart pounding as she learned the art. And inexperienced as Hermione was, her ardor and passion moved him more that any other experienced witch. She was so willing to please him, to do what he wanted, to provide what he needed.

What was more, she would not give this part of herself to anyone else. She might share that brilliant mind with the world, but what she was giving him, no other would ever experience while he lived.

His. All of her belonged to him. For a lifetime.

“Oh gods! Severus . . . Severus!” Hermione cried, pulling away from him as the balloon inside her filled to bursting, her temperature soaring as her climax approached. Snape heard her, and began thrusting his tongue in and out of her tight little sleeve, wriggling it, seeking the trigger that would make her explode.

It didn’t take long to find it as Hermione stiffened and keened, her fluids pouring out of her, her pussy clenching around his tongue. Snape swallowed down her release, holding her shuddering body tightly as Hermione’s eyes rolled up in her head and she babbled incoherently, completely lost to the wizard. The blowjob was all but forgotten, but Snape didn’t give a damn as he took in her ambrosia, licking and sucking at the witch until he had consume every drop, and Hermione lay sprawled, panting and boneless on top of him.

Snape let out a satisfied sigh and licked his lips for any excess, then gently slid upward, lifting her hips then helping the witch to turn around so she lay beside him, her brown eyes half-closed and face flushed as she looked between her lashes at him.

”I’m sorry,” she said softly, and suddenly Snape saw that her eyes were wet. His brow furrowed.

“Sorry? For what, Hermione?” he asked her softly, pushing her hair aside so he could see her face clearly.

”I didn’t do a good job,” she said, “I . . . I stopped.”

Snape quirked his lips at her.

”You pleased me,” he said to her, “your willingness made up for your inexperience, witch. I’m satisfied, believe me.”

”Really?” Hermione asked him, her eyes hopeful.

Snape studied her. She needed his reassurance.

”Truly,” he said, pulling her to him and kissing her soft lips, feeling the hunger in his loins flare up. “And you will continue to please me tonight, Hermione.”

“I want to, Severus, but not just for tonight. For always,” she said to him softly, her eyes full of love.

The wizard couldn’t help but be moved by her honest desire for him. The first witch to ever want him. And she was brilliant and courageous. More than he ever hoped to acquire in a woman. Suddenly he rolled on top of Hermione, his black hair framing his pale face as he looked down on her, resting against her softness.

“For always?” he asked her silkily.

”For the rest of my life,” Hermione breathed up at him. “Love me, Severus. Please, love me.”

Her plea seemed to cut straight to the wizard’s cold heart. She was so sincere, wanted him so badly. Again, he was moved.

”If it is in me, Hermione, then be assured I will do my best to return to you what you’ve so freely given me,” he said softly. “As I said, I will not abandon you if the Binding doesn’t take, so no worries, witch. I will be here. I will not leave you alone.”

Hermione let out a sob and wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him down to her, crying against his throat, her hot tears dampening his hair and skin. Her emotion was like an aphrodisiac to the wizard. He wanted to take her as she cried for him, to feel her body envelope him as well as her emotion. He pulled back from her, looking down at the witch for a moment, before positioning himself between her thighs, then reaching between their bodies, Hermione gasping between her tears as he placed the head of his cock against her core. She was slick again.

Snape’s black eyes rested on Hermione’s tear-stained face. He had thought to punish her tonight for tying him up in the upper corridors. He thought it would bring him pleasure to hear her scream as he pummeled her into conniptions. Actually, it would . . . but not tonight . . . not now. The depths of her feelings for him had begun to seep through and elicit a response inside him.

He raised himself up on both hands, his face sober as Hermione looked up at him, silent now, but the tears still running from the corners of her eyes into her hair. Slowly, he pressed forward, parting her, feeling her warmth surround him, her softness welcoming his intrusion as he filled her gently, Hermione’s mouth dropping open as they connected, joining.

”Do you think I can love you, Hermione?” he asked her softly, drawing back and sliding into her again, “do you think someone as cold and bitter as I am is capable of True Love?”

“Yes. You have to be, Severus,” she replied, tears falling anew. “I want . . . I want . . . “

Hermione fell silent as the wizard gently possessed her, his body flexing sensuously as he entered her over and over, shifting his hips slightly, caressing every inch of the witch, wanting every part of her touched and owned by him.

“What is it you want, Hermione?” he asked her. “Tell me.”

He jerked her body gently as he continued his slow, easy possession of her

”I want to be what Lily wasn’t. I want to give you the kind of love you craved from her but never received. I want to . . . to heal you, Severus. To take away whatever pain she caused you. I want to wipe every thought of her out of your mind, even if it was an obsession. I want you to be obsessed by me now. Now and forever,” she said softly.

Snape stopped moving and stared down at Hermione. That wasn’t what he expected to hear from the young witch.

“You want to be my Lily?” he asked her, his voice thick now.

”I want to be more than your Lily,” Hermione replied, fresh tears once more sliding from her eyes as she looked up at her unlikely love.

Snape stared at her a few seconds more, his expression unfathomable. Then he seemed to visibly relax, his harsh features softening as he looked at Hermione.

”You already are,” he breathed, lowering himself to her body and kissing her deeply, starting to move again.

********************************************
A/N: Well, I pushed this chapter out. I hope it was all right. Not sure if the muse is with me. Sigh. Think I need some encouragement you guys. Feeling rusty. lol Anyway, thanks for reading.