Un Désire Dangereux *COMPLETE*

VI. La belle dame sans merci

The mattress creaked noisily under their combined weight before Severus rose
again, sliding his arms out of the torn shirt and stepping out of his open
trousers. Taking her by the hips, he slid Vivienne up to the pillows before
covering her body with his, tongues sliding around each other, teeth nibbling as
he traced his mouth to the sensitive curve of her neck and lowered his hot
mouth to her breasts. Before he could continue his assault, she bucked her
hips in a defensive move she learned in Auror training, throwing him off balance
enough to flip their positions as she began her own torturous descent down his
body with her mouth. 

"If you'd wanted to trade," he said breathlessly, "you need
only have asked."

She smiled and continued exploring his scarred sinewy chest.
Flicking her tongue over his nipple, she nipped it lightly as she pinched the
other one before trailing her hands down to his hips. His hands came up to her
hair, clutching at her as she lowered herself, swirling her tongue and laving it
in his belly button, sliding it down to the darker curls as his member twitched
against her throat in a bawdy salute. She raked her fingernails up his thighs,
contrasting the sensation with soft kisses on his shaft as he groaned and cupped
the back of her head, pulling her closer against him. Exhaling as she took all
of him into her, Vivienne relaxed her throat muscles and moaned over him. Now
writhing fully Severus began bucking against her, a small taste of salty semen
dripping from the tip as she began sliding her mouth up and down. Dipping her
hand back to cup his balls, she felt behind the sac and began pulsing the spot
as she sucked harder while he thrust into her mouth, groaning and writhing as he
tensed, crying out as he shot into her wet willing mouth. She swallowed the tart
taste of him as he pulled her up, rolling her over and taking her into another
simmering kiss.

His hands then mirrored her gesture, raking up her thighs and connecting
right at her center as he thrust two fingers into her opening, sliding them in
and out and around her folds. Lazily, he swirled his thumb over her still
swollen nub, pulsing inside her as his other hand massaged her breast, tweaking
her nipple as she bowed up, straining against his hands and overwhelmed with the
sensations he was causing all over her body. Her knees pulled up, her legs
spread wantonly, she bucked again and again thrusting against his skilled
fingers, his thumb now pulsating against her clit as she moaned, clutching at
him and clawing nails down his back, she came with a scream and fell back spent,
unbearably aroused still as she watched him suck the juices from his fingers
before leaning in to kiss her, knowing this night was far from over.

***

She woke the next morning as she rolled over and felt a man's bare chest
under her palm. Having forgotten where she was, her eyes snapped open to see him
gazing at her intently. "Good morning," he ventured. "Sleep well
did you?"

"Morning?" she repeated still bleary, then bolted straight out of
bed looking around. "Zut! Sacre! Suis en retard! Quel heure est-il?
Pourquoi tu ne m'es reveillé pas?" After a moment's search, she
located her trampled robe, shook it out and was pulling it on before she looked
up and saw the utterly amused look on his face. "Qu'est-ce que la
problème?"

"Try that in English, won't you?" he replied, a smile quirking at
the corner of his mouth and an eyebrow raised as he slid leisurely out of bed
and pulled his trousers back on.

"What time is it?"

"Barely seven o'clock."

"You are certain?"

"Quite," he said, gesturing to a wall clock.

"Ah. You might have said."

"I may have, had I known what all that French gabble was," he
countered.

"I will have to relieve Tonks by eight," she said, now feeling as
though she ought to make some sort of explanation for leaving abruptly. "I
will, perhaps, see you at breakfast?"

"Certainly." Already quite close, he took a step forward as she
backed up, straight into the ottoman. Her knees buckling at the contact, he
caught her as she fell. Clutching the front of the robe, his fingers brushed
across her cleavage and she uttered stifled gasp as she lost balance again and
landed against him. The distance between them now gone, he swept his fingers up
to cup the back of her neck while her gaze focused on his mouth. Leaning down
his lips met hers, parting them, a brushing tease before her tongue dipped in,
laving against his own in a light lazy dance. She swept the tip of her tongue
once over his bottom lip before nipping it gently as he cupped her elbows and
stepped back, breaking the contact.

"If that keeps up," he said, swallowing hard, "you'll be quite
as late as you thought you were."

"Oui. Right. True." She turned, nearly tripping again over
the ottoman, thankful her back was now to him and he could not see the blush
creeping up. She Flooed straight into her bedroom and sank to her knees. Not in
years had she felt so deliciously used. The man was definitely a wonder, she
thought. Despite all his harsh looks, there was quite a bit of tenderness there,
not to mention a solid reputation from anyone she had talked to in the past week
for being a wealth of knowledge and skill. Not to mention the unqualified
bravery and strength it took to act as a spy in Lord Voldemort's own camp. Yes,
she reasoned, using the post of her bed to pull herself up, there was a lot more
to this mystifying man than she had perceived at first. And if there is one
thing she loved, it was an enigma.

As she stood shakily in her own room pondering the mysteries of Severus
Snape, the man himself paced while fumbling with the buttons on his newly
repaired shirt. She was definitely a minx, he considered, wincing a bit as the
linen came in contact with his scored back. Not that he minded having a randy
red-head clawing at him, especially when she was also moaning in ecstasy, but
she was no mere trollop, that was for certain. She was good enough at her job
that the French Ministry had sanctioned her as an aide-de-camp, and in fact, she
came very highly recommended according to Dumbledore. Simply being an Auror was
no small feat; their training was legend and at times rumored to be almost
brutal. That move she had used last night was a good indicator, he thought
smiling to himself. Not many Death Eaters could pin him and he had been--though
vulnerable at the time--bested by the woman. And yet, he considered it highly
amusing that such a venerable witch had flushed like a school girl after a
midnight romp and one searing morning kiss. Knowing this, and being fully aware
of her flaming temper and razor's-edge wit, Severus considered himself lucky
that dear, sweet Bella had made such a blazing foul-up. Bless her. With that
thought in mind, he nipped back a swig of the untouched firewhiskey and strode
out the door to the great hall.

Suis en retard! = I'm late!

Quel heure est-il? = What time is it?

Pourquoi tu ne m'es reveillé pas? = Why didn't you wake me?

Qu'est-ce que la problème? = What is the problem?