One Hundred And One Ways To Brew Lust
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
14
Views:
7,955
Reviews:
14
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
14
Views:
7,955
Reviews:
14
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Chapter Five
Chapter Five
***
She was watching his lips now. That was all she could see as she felt his voice wash over her like a warm wave. And the tingling in her groin was pulsing, as if her heartbeat was strongest there, not in her neck or chest. She wanted to touch him so very much. Closing her eyes, she reached out her hand to where his mouth had been, and touched his lips.
Snape was frozen in place. It took what seemed like centuries for him to react. He started by capturing her hand in his, and turning it over to kiss her palm. He lifted it then and placed firm kisses from her wrist down to her elbow. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, a distant voice – not dissimilar to Albus Dumbledore’s – was telling him that this was wrong. That, though this girl may be eighteen, and therefore technically of age, she was still a student at Hogwarts. And, the small voice concluded, Snape should wait until she had graduated. And even then… there were almost nineteen years’ difference between them.
But that voice faded as soon as Hermione reached out her other hand and drew Snape’s face to hers for a kiss.
And then he knew. He knew that they fit, that the fire was there. Funny how much a kiss can tell you about chemistry, he mused to himself. Much as he had loved in the past, there were women with whom kisses fit and others with whom they didn’t, and no amount of rationalising and wishing could change that. Here, he thought to himself, was a definite match.
Snape was the first to pull away. He raised his hands and touched Hermione’s hair. It was so thick and beautiful, he thought to himself. He pulled her to him and caressed her thighs, moving his hands up and around to her belly, up to the underside of her breasts. And Hermione had a sudden flash of her dream. He reached up to the straps of her dress and pulled them down her shoulders. The upper half of her dress fell to her waist, whereupon he resumed stroking the underside of her breasts.
Now she could feel the slight roughness of his fingers grating against the soft skin there. Hermione felt copious amounts of liquid rushing to her panties. She worried that she had suddenly been hit with her period. “Just my luck,” she groaned internally. She was about to ask Snape where the bathroom was when he started rolling her nipples between his fingers, just as he had in her dream. Her knees buckled beneath her at this point, and he caught her in his arms, smiling suddenly. It occurred to her, as he carried her to that same sofa where she’d sipped his port earlier in the week, that this was the first time she’d seen him smile. Not smirking, smiling. A warm, genuine smile that reached his eyes. It was breathtaking. It transformed his face into something altogether unrecognisable. He was regarding her with a look of passion and… tenderness?
He laid her on her back and tugged her dress the rest of the way off. As she lay in her panties, she felt suddenly uncomfortable as she remembered why she’d wanted to go to the bathroom. She was about to ask again as she tried to get up when Snape roughly pulled her panties off. She cried out: “No!”
He had just returned his hand to her pubic bone when he heard her cry, and stopped, frozen. She looked down mortified and was bewildered to find that there were no signs of blood on his sofa. She kept her confusion to herself, and tried to mask her reaction with a nervous giggle. “It’s just… You’ve still got all your clothes on. I feel a bit…”
Snape shushed her with a kiss and seemed to understand. But Hermione found she was very turned on by the fact that he’d kept his clothes on. She could feel the fabric of his shirt rubbing against her nipples, and they turned hard and puckered under the friction. She could feel the scratchy wool of his pants as he eased his thigh between her legs and gently rubbed it up and down. Her wetness formed a spot on his pants as he continued to rub her. As she returned his kisses, his tongue pressed against her, and he gently sucked her tongue into his mouth. It made Hermione weak in the knees again, and she was glad that she was already horizontal.
He did all this so swiftly and so expertly, that she had no time to feel self-conscious, no time to reflect upon what she was about to do. His hands reached up to play with her nipples again, and this time he tugged on them with such force that she almost felt pain. It was incredible. Between the deep kiss, the tugging on her nipples, and the ceaseless friction between her legs she felt a sort of nervous pang creep up on her, and the throbbing of all the nerves in her groin escalated until spasms overtook her and she cried out. Her eyes lost focus for a moment, and she was shaken with tremendous… it seemed like the aftershocks of an earthquake. Just when she thought there would be no more, a strong violent one overtook her.
She looked up at Snape with a combination of shock and awe. Only now did Snape realise that she must be a virgin. This sobering thought only lasted a moment, for Hermione let out the lowest, most seductive moan he’d heard in a long time. He was taken aback by this; it seemed so incongruous with her lack of experience.
She panted softly. “That was… that… definitely Exceeds Expectations,” she said with a glint in her eye. And now she was treated to another new experience: Snape guffawed heartily, and didn’t stop laughing for a good minute. It was contagious and she laughed too, grateful for something to smooth away any potential embarrassment. How amazing that she could feel so at ease with him, she thought to herself.
“I think, my beautiful Miss Granger, that I should give you a nightcap and then pack you off to bed. To your dormitory, I mean” he added hastily as she looked hopefully up at him. A frown clouded her brow at his last statement. “It’s getting on past eleven-thirty,” he said gently. “Can’t have you out of bed past curfew, can we?” He winked at her and smiled.
He got up and picked up her dress from the floor. Then he pulled it up over her legiftiifting her gently as he pulled it up her body. She sat up, and started to fiddle with her straps to get them over her arms, but he stopped her movements, and did this for her, placing a hand on her belly and giving her a deep kiss when he’d finished. She felt her knees turn to jelly again.
When he looked at her again, he asked, “tea or port?”
The niggling feeling at the back of her mind returned as this jogged her memory, and she said, “Professor… I …” She paused. It seemed odd to call him Professor after what they’d just shared.
“How about, you call me Severus and I’ll call you Hermione. Only when we’re alone together, of course,” he added needlessly.
Hermione smiled at this. “Well, Sev…Sev… I… I can’t do it! Se-ve-rus. It seems oddly irreverent for me to be calling you that!”
Snape burst out laughing. “Oddly irreverent! But you don’t mind defying me openly in class and during detention! Oddly irreverent indeed! Hermione, you are a remarkable woman, I must say.” And with that, he swept down to plant her with a searing, deep, long kiss. So long, in fact, that they looked up in dismay to realise there would be no time for a nightcap.
“Well, I …” Hermione didn’t know what to say. “I wonder… Can I see you tomorrow?”
“I’d like that very much,” Snape answered without hesitation. “Same time? If anyone asks, you can just reply that I’m being a right bastard and making you come to detention on a Sunday. That should help keep up my front as a nasty git!” Snape grinned. Hermione looked a bit scared of him just then. She’d seen a glimmer of the “old Snape” in that look.
He offered her a hand and helped her up from the sofa. She gathered her things, and he smoothed her hair down for her. “You look ravishing. In fact, you look like you’ve just been ravished,” he added wickedly. Hermione gave him a worried look and his smile faded.
“I mustn’t look like I’ve had a good time!” she fussed. “Parvati and Lavender have kissing radar. They’ll know something strange is up. Say something nasty and annoying to me,” she commanded.
“What?” Snape was incredulous.
“Go on! Insult me, call me a Mudlbood”.
“Now see here, Miss Granger! I have not used that word in ages. Just because Malfoy is a complete bastard doesn’t mean all Slytherins are!” Snape was clearly getting all worked up about this.
“That’s more like it!” Hermione said proudly, whereupon she turned swiftly on her heels and flounced out of his chambers with an air of triumph.
Snape stared after her in shock, and closed the door behind him. Only once he’d replayed the conversation in his head did he dissolve into peals of laughter. Wiping a tear from his eye, he realised he’d laughed more in one evening with Hermione than he had all year. He looked down at the nearly dry stain on the leg of his slacks and smiled to himself. His heated exchange with her had nearly made him forget the painful erection he was still sporting.
***
She was watching his lips now. That was all she could see as she felt his voice wash over her like a warm wave. And the tingling in her groin was pulsing, as if her heartbeat was strongest there, not in her neck or chest. She wanted to touch him so very much. Closing her eyes, she reached out her hand to where his mouth had been, and touched his lips.
Snape was frozen in place. It took what seemed like centuries for him to react. He started by capturing her hand in his, and turning it over to kiss her palm. He lifted it then and placed firm kisses from her wrist down to her elbow. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, a distant voice – not dissimilar to Albus Dumbledore’s – was telling him that this was wrong. That, though this girl may be eighteen, and therefore technically of age, she was still a student at Hogwarts. And, the small voice concluded, Snape should wait until she had graduated. And even then… there were almost nineteen years’ difference between them.
But that voice faded as soon as Hermione reached out her other hand and drew Snape’s face to hers for a kiss.
And then he knew. He knew that they fit, that the fire was there. Funny how much a kiss can tell you about chemistry, he mused to himself. Much as he had loved in the past, there were women with whom kisses fit and others with whom they didn’t, and no amount of rationalising and wishing could change that. Here, he thought to himself, was a definite match.
Snape was the first to pull away. He raised his hands and touched Hermione’s hair. It was so thick and beautiful, he thought to himself. He pulled her to him and caressed her thighs, moving his hands up and around to her belly, up to the underside of her breasts. And Hermione had a sudden flash of her dream. He reached up to the straps of her dress and pulled them down her shoulders. The upper half of her dress fell to her waist, whereupon he resumed stroking the underside of her breasts.
Now she could feel the slight roughness of his fingers grating against the soft skin there. Hermione felt copious amounts of liquid rushing to her panties. She worried that she had suddenly been hit with her period. “Just my luck,” she groaned internally. She was about to ask Snape where the bathroom was when he started rolling her nipples between his fingers, just as he had in her dream. Her knees buckled beneath her at this point, and he caught her in his arms, smiling suddenly. It occurred to her, as he carried her to that same sofa where she’d sipped his port earlier in the week, that this was the first time she’d seen him smile. Not smirking, smiling. A warm, genuine smile that reached his eyes. It was breathtaking. It transformed his face into something altogether unrecognisable. He was regarding her with a look of passion and… tenderness?
He laid her on her back and tugged her dress the rest of the way off. As she lay in her panties, she felt suddenly uncomfortable as she remembered why she’d wanted to go to the bathroom. She was about to ask again as she tried to get up when Snape roughly pulled her panties off. She cried out: “No!”
He had just returned his hand to her pubic bone when he heard her cry, and stopped, frozen. She looked down mortified and was bewildered to find that there were no signs of blood on his sofa. She kept her confusion to herself, and tried to mask her reaction with a nervous giggle. “It’s just… You’ve still got all your clothes on. I feel a bit…”
Snape shushed her with a kiss and seemed to understand. But Hermione found she was very turned on by the fact that he’d kept his clothes on. She could feel the fabric of his shirt rubbing against her nipples, and they turned hard and puckered under the friction. She could feel the scratchy wool of his pants as he eased his thigh between her legs and gently rubbed it up and down. Her wetness formed a spot on his pants as he continued to rub her. As she returned his kisses, his tongue pressed against her, and he gently sucked her tongue into his mouth. It made Hermione weak in the knees again, and she was glad that she was already horizontal.
He did all this so swiftly and so expertly, that she had no time to feel self-conscious, no time to reflect upon what she was about to do. His hands reached up to play with her nipples again, and this time he tugged on them with such force that she almost felt pain. It was incredible. Between the deep kiss, the tugging on her nipples, and the ceaseless friction between her legs she felt a sort of nervous pang creep up on her, and the throbbing of all the nerves in her groin escalated until spasms overtook her and she cried out. Her eyes lost focus for a moment, and she was shaken with tremendous… it seemed like the aftershocks of an earthquake. Just when she thought there would be no more, a strong violent one overtook her.
She looked up at Snape with a combination of shock and awe. Only now did Snape realise that she must be a virgin. This sobering thought only lasted a moment, for Hermione let out the lowest, most seductive moan he’d heard in a long time. He was taken aback by this; it seemed so incongruous with her lack of experience.
She panted softly. “That was… that… definitely Exceeds Expectations,” she said with a glint in her eye. And now she was treated to another new experience: Snape guffawed heartily, and didn’t stop laughing for a good minute. It was contagious and she laughed too, grateful for something to smooth away any potential embarrassment. How amazing that she could feel so at ease with him, she thought to herself.
“I think, my beautiful Miss Granger, that I should give you a nightcap and then pack you off to bed. To your dormitory, I mean” he added hastily as she looked hopefully up at him. A frown clouded her brow at his last statement. “It’s getting on past eleven-thirty,” he said gently. “Can’t have you out of bed past curfew, can we?” He winked at her and smiled.
He got up and picked up her dress from the floor. Then he pulled it up over her legiftiifting her gently as he pulled it up her body. She sat up, and started to fiddle with her straps to get them over her arms, but he stopped her movements, and did this for her, placing a hand on her belly and giving her a deep kiss when he’d finished. She felt her knees turn to jelly again.
When he looked at her again, he asked, “tea or port?”
The niggling feeling at the back of her mind returned as this jogged her memory, and she said, “Professor… I …” She paused. It seemed odd to call him Professor after what they’d just shared.
“How about, you call me Severus and I’ll call you Hermione. Only when we’re alone together, of course,” he added needlessly.
Hermione smiled at this. “Well, Sev…Sev… I… I can’t do it! Se-ve-rus. It seems oddly irreverent for me to be calling you that!”
Snape burst out laughing. “Oddly irreverent! But you don’t mind defying me openly in class and during detention! Oddly irreverent indeed! Hermione, you are a remarkable woman, I must say.” And with that, he swept down to plant her with a searing, deep, long kiss. So long, in fact, that they looked up in dismay to realise there would be no time for a nightcap.
“Well, I …” Hermione didn’t know what to say. “I wonder… Can I see you tomorrow?”
“I’d like that very much,” Snape answered without hesitation. “Same time? If anyone asks, you can just reply that I’m being a right bastard and making you come to detention on a Sunday. That should help keep up my front as a nasty git!” Snape grinned. Hermione looked a bit scared of him just then. She’d seen a glimmer of the “old Snape” in that look.
He offered her a hand and helped her up from the sofa. She gathered her things, and he smoothed her hair down for her. “You look ravishing. In fact, you look like you’ve just been ravished,” he added wickedly. Hermione gave him a worried look and his smile faded.
“I mustn’t look like I’ve had a good time!” she fussed. “Parvati and Lavender have kissing radar. They’ll know something strange is up. Say something nasty and annoying to me,” she commanded.
“What?” Snape was incredulous.
“Go on! Insult me, call me a Mudlbood”.
“Now see here, Miss Granger! I have not used that word in ages. Just because Malfoy is a complete bastard doesn’t mean all Slytherins are!” Snape was clearly getting all worked up about this.
“That’s more like it!” Hermione said proudly, whereupon she turned swiftly on her heels and flounced out of his chambers with an air of triumph.
Snape stared after her in shock, and closed the door behind him. Only once he’d replayed the conversation in his head did he dissolve into peals of laughter. Wiping a tear from his eye, he realised he’d laughed more in one evening with Hermione than he had all year. He looked down at the nearly dry stain on the leg of his slacks and smiled to himself. His heated exchange with her had nearly made him forget the painful erection he was still sporting.