Just You Wait
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
10
Views:
9,757
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
10
Views:
9,757
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Disclaimer:
I do not own the HP fandom and I make no money from the fanfiction
Chapter 5 - Entr'acte
Chapter 5 - Entr'acte
Poor Professor Higgins
Severus Snape was quietly elated at how perfect this evening was turning out. His beautiful wife had defied him so sweetly, submitted so prettily, and felt so, so good...
It was a peculiar feeling to have such a different relationship with power. In his past, the wielding of power meant control, influence, selfishness, discipline; at the expense, and to the detriment, of another. In Voldemort's world, there was no power without suffering, without losers. It had taken him a long time even to disassociate himself with that world, with those impulses. To realise that he could wield power, be controlling, selfish even, and at the same time with his actions please another - one other - Hermione...it was a revelation.
So far, his little interlude had gone exactly as planned. His...what had she called it...display of tetchy testosterone had left his darling suitably - stimulated - a perfect foil for his own `bad mood'. He had felt no hesitation to pursue her, in character, and no qualms at her wary reaction. He'd felt perfectly in control, but also perfectly confident; he knew that she would respond with unguarded eagerness and arousal. And he was right. When he grabbed her and spun her around, he felt her react to his body, yield to his strength and his desire...to her love for him and his for her. Even when she was uncertain of what he had in mind, she yielded.
He loved the way she relaxed against him as he whispered in her ear his intention to satisfy his need for her. He loved propelling her towards the settee, fulfilling his plans to take her. The way she trembled as he caressed her - he could feel her belly contracting with lust as he touched her. Her eagerness when she realised what he wanted to do...
-*~~*~~*-
His fantasies about shagging her in that dress were almost his undoing. It had been his plan to allow himself to take his own satisfaction with her, but he had no wish to screw her like a - well, like a Gryffindor, probably. But by the time she was finally on her knees in front of him, he was so aroused, he almost couldn't think. Every time her bottom shifted against him he was afraid he was going to come in his trousers. When he drew the skirts of that damn gown up around her waist, touching the soft skin of her thighs, feeling her writhe with impatience against him, Gods, he had visions of ejaculating the moment he entered her, like some drunken virgin.
She looked so lovely. Her perfect hair was tousled and soft, her flesh was so smooth and delectable, her womanly form irresistible, and irresistibly-clad. She was magnificent.
The position hadn't helped his self-control any, either. It was very deep; he felt her insides like they were brand-new to him. It was also extremely pleasurable to have access to her lovely breasts and neck, not to mention that centre of ecstasy: Sirius called it the "YES" button, or maybe it was better characterised as the "YESSSSSSS" button; when pressed correctly it guaranteed instant and wholehearted agreement. To be so preoccupied, every possible erogenous appendage engaged with her body, made self-restraint a distant dream.
In his place behind and around her, he had complete control over his movements, as well as a very pretty view. She was completely helpless and acquiescent. He had never imagined that it could be so stimulating and freeing, to hold his wife immobile and just - have his way - with her.
And... it had been the fulfillment of a fantasy. Two, actually. Shagging her senseless while she was enveloped in a tactile, seductive sheath of red velvet had been a recent wish, born the same day he accompanied her to her final fitting at her dressmakers.
But since their marriage, he'd always regretted not taking her in her ex-husband's house when he had the chance. Oh yes, he knew it was a petty desire - but then, he'd won her, hadn't he? And history has always been written by the victors...
You Did It
When he'd tortured himself enough with his wife, and finally slipped into her, sinking his teeth into her shoulder hadn't been a calculated move. It had been his only option to stifle the sounds of ecstasy in his throat and chest. The experience of her body, her desire, and her trust was so acute that it almost brought him over the edge.
He felt so free, banging her from behind like an animal, but in that genteel room in formal garb. He knew that he was fucking her hard enough to bruise her insides, but aah it felt so good to thrust himself against her inner walls, stimulating her and greasing the head of his cock over and over again.
Over the last two years, Severus had become so adept at pleasuring Hermione that he could almost time her orgasm to the second. He revelled in the knowledge that he could keep her on the edge for as long as he wanted, giving her release at the exact moment he chose. As he moved in her, Hermione, gasping with shock and arousal, wriggled futilely against his right hand - trying to achieve what he was denying her. No matter how she moved, his fingers never came into contact with the pivotal nub of flesh that so hungered for his touch.
When he knew that he could hold on no longer, with barely a flick of his fingertips he pulled her into her climax, letting her powerful spasms milk his seed out of him.
Poor Professor Higgins
Severus Snape was quietly elated at how perfect this evening was turning out. His beautiful wife had defied him so sweetly, submitted so prettily, and felt so, so good...
It was a peculiar feeling to have such a different relationship with power. In his past, the wielding of power meant control, influence, selfishness, discipline; at the expense, and to the detriment, of another. In Voldemort's world, there was no power without suffering, without losers. It had taken him a long time even to disassociate himself with that world, with those impulses. To realise that he could wield power, be controlling, selfish even, and at the same time with his actions please another - one other - Hermione...it was a revelation.
So far, his little interlude had gone exactly as planned. His...what had she called it...display of tetchy testosterone had left his darling suitably - stimulated - a perfect foil for his own `bad mood'. He had felt no hesitation to pursue her, in character, and no qualms at her wary reaction. He'd felt perfectly in control, but also perfectly confident; he knew that she would respond with unguarded eagerness and arousal. And he was right. When he grabbed her and spun her around, he felt her react to his body, yield to his strength and his desire...to her love for him and his for her. Even when she was uncertain of what he had in mind, she yielded.
He loved the way she relaxed against him as he whispered in her ear his intention to satisfy his need for her. He loved propelling her towards the settee, fulfilling his plans to take her. The way she trembled as he caressed her - he could feel her belly contracting with lust as he touched her. Her eagerness when she realised what he wanted to do...
-*~~*~~*-
His fantasies about shagging her in that dress were almost his undoing. It had been his plan to allow himself to take his own satisfaction with her, but he had no wish to screw her like a - well, like a Gryffindor, probably. But by the time she was finally on her knees in front of him, he was so aroused, he almost couldn't think. Every time her bottom shifted against him he was afraid he was going to come in his trousers. When he drew the skirts of that damn gown up around her waist, touching the soft skin of her thighs, feeling her writhe with impatience against him, Gods, he had visions of ejaculating the moment he entered her, like some drunken virgin.
She looked so lovely. Her perfect hair was tousled and soft, her flesh was so smooth and delectable, her womanly form irresistible, and irresistibly-clad. She was magnificent.
The position hadn't helped his self-control any, either. It was very deep; he felt her insides like they were brand-new to him. It was also extremely pleasurable to have access to her lovely breasts and neck, not to mention that centre of ecstasy: Sirius called it the "YES" button, or maybe it was better characterised as the "YESSSSSSS" button; when pressed correctly it guaranteed instant and wholehearted agreement. To be so preoccupied, every possible erogenous appendage engaged with her body, made self-restraint a distant dream.
In his place behind and around her, he had complete control over his movements, as well as a very pretty view. She was completely helpless and acquiescent. He had never imagined that it could be so stimulating and freeing, to hold his wife immobile and just - have his way - with her.
And... it had been the fulfillment of a fantasy. Two, actually. Shagging her senseless while she was enveloped in a tactile, seductive sheath of red velvet had been a recent wish, born the same day he accompanied her to her final fitting at her dressmakers.
But since their marriage, he'd always regretted not taking her in her ex-husband's house when he had the chance. Oh yes, he knew it was a petty desire - but then, he'd won her, hadn't he? And history has always been written by the victors...
You Did It
When he'd tortured himself enough with his wife, and finally slipped into her, sinking his teeth into her shoulder hadn't been a calculated move. It had been his only option to stifle the sounds of ecstasy in his throat and chest. The experience of her body, her desire, and her trust was so acute that it almost brought him over the edge.
He felt so free, banging her from behind like an animal, but in that genteel room in formal garb. He knew that he was fucking her hard enough to bruise her insides, but aah it felt so good to thrust himself against her inner walls, stimulating her and greasing the head of his cock over and over again.
Over the last two years, Severus had become so adept at pleasuring Hermione that he could almost time her orgasm to the second. He revelled in the knowledge that he could keep her on the edge for as long as he wanted, giving her release at the exact moment he chose. As he moved in her, Hermione, gasping with shock and arousal, wriggled futilely against his right hand - trying to achieve what he was denying her. No matter how she moved, his fingers never came into contact with the pivotal nub of flesh that so hungered for his touch.
When he knew that he could hold on no longer, with barely a flick of his fingertips he pulled her into her climax, letting her powerful spasms milk his seed out of him.