Unforgettable

Chapter Eight –

She was so close, just two rooms away. Severus cursed. Rolanda would never hear the end of this. If he didn’t know better, he’d think the bloody witch had planned this. She’d fallen from her broom this morning and had broken her leg. Therefore, Albus had called on him to cover the flying instructor’s nightly rounds.

It had been two days and two nights of pure hell, seeing Hermione in the Great Hall for meals and watching her former instructors fawn over her. Most of them had been surprised to see her.

He’d planned an intimate dinner tonight with a side order of seduction. He was tired of waiting. His dreams tormented him and his waking hours were becoming troublesome as well. If said dinner ended up with her in his lap, sighing his name as he buried his cock deep within her, would that be such a crime?

Tearing off his robe in frustration, Severus stormed from his bedchambers to the sitting room. The lighting was dim as he wove his way around the elegant furnishings, and he stubbed his booted foot on the couch. “Bloody hell!”

He glared at her door. She was probably resting peacefully while he was languishing in agony.

Pacing the length of the room, he unbuttoned the top of his collar. It would be so easy. All he would have to do was open the door, cast the Imperius and fuck her. He could grab fistfuls of her hair and hold onto her head as he pumped his aching cock in and out of her fact-spouting mouth.

It would never work though. Once would not satisfy the lust, and he couldn’t very well Obliviate her again. The risk of causing the “brightest witch of the age” permanent damage was not appealing in the least.

Severus froze, his imagination running wild. Did her door just creak?

But he wasn’t imagining it, as the door opened wider and Hermione swept into the room. Her sheer dressing gown flowed behind her just like her wild hair, leaving little to his imagination. She was no longer the irritating, know-it-all student. She was a woman – one with curves that still haunted his dreams.

“Oh, good! You’re awake,” she stated breathlessly, waving the locket in the air. “I think I’ve almost broken the curses!”

“That’s –” impossible, he wanted to say, “exciting news indeed, Miss Granger.”

Hermione crossed the room and held the locket up for his perusal. When he didn’t take it, she placed it on the table between them. “My apologies, Professor. I did not intend to intrude on your solitude,” she stated solemnly and started to return to her room.

“What’s done is done,” Severus said, taking a decanter off of a table and conjuring two glasses. “In the very least, you could join me for a drink.” He poured the golden liquid slowly.

“Please have a seat, Miss Granger. I welcome the company.” He forced a smile to his lips.

Hermione nodded her consent and stared wide-eyed at her employer, watching his every movement.

Severus smirked when she jumped as his fingertips brushed against hers when he handed her the glass.

She muttered a quick, “Thank you,” and sat on the red velvet settee. Clearing her throat nervously when he sat next to her, Hermione sniffed her drink.

He could barely contain the grin as she inspected her drink. “Do you think I would poison you, Miss Granger?” he asked in challenge.

Hermione paused. “One can never be too careful,” she replied.

Severus chuckled, downing the contents of his drink quickly. Setting the glass on the table, he leaned back and put his arm on the back of the settee.

“Constant vigilance,” she laughed and sipped the whisky.

“So tell me about your progress,” Severus instructed, running his palm across the back of the sofa.

Turning to face him, Hermione took an errant strand of hair and started worrying it between her fingers. “I’ve gotten through the first two layers of curses. It’s as though your great grandmother wasn’t sure about the locket…just kept heaping curse after curse on it.”

“She was a bit of an eccentric,” he volunteered easily, watching her fingers twirl the silken strand of her hair. His gazed settled upon her lush lips and he watched in fascination as her pink tongue darted out to lick her bottom lip.

He could feel the immediate response to her innocent gesture and growled inwardly, crossing his legs to hide his instantaneous arousal.

“I think her ‘eccentric’ behavior is what is causing me the most difficulty,” she replied. “I normally study the history of the item before I go about attempting to break the curses. But I skipped my research this time around for a more direct approach, seeing as you’re in such a hurry.” Hermione started to fan herself. “Did you cast a warming spell?”

The young witch darted off the couch and walked quickly to a row of books.

Severus scowled and didn’t answer her.

“I-I hope you don’t mind, but I borrowed one of your books,” she stammered, keeping her back toward him and showing keen interest in the cracked spines of his library.

He stalked her. He would not be denied now. Walking up behind her, Severus pressed against her, his body flush with hers, his arousal pressed against the swell of her buttocks. As though he were wrapping himself around her, he smiled. Hermione was trembling, her breathing husky and rapid.

He reached for a book. “Allow me to recommend something for you,” he purred seductively. Paying such close attention to his soon-to-be lover, he paid no mind to the book he selected.

She turned around, pinned effectively between him and the shelves. Her cinnamon eyes asked so many questions as he stared into their depths.

“P-professor?” she sighed, her hands pressing against his chest, yet not pushing him away.

Severus swooped down, capturing her lips with his. He could have come right then, but there was still so much he wanted to do to her. Even though it was his doing, he wanted to punish her for forgetting him. The kiss was teasing, his teeth pulling her bottom lip between his teeth. Her mouth opened willingly for him as he took what she instinctively offered him.

Hermione groaned, pushing her tongue against his in wanton welcome.

Bunching her nightgown in his hand, he pulled it to the crux of her thighs and slid his hand under it. He needed her. There would be no time for her, the clueless witch. Only he knew why they burned for one another. She had not suffered like he had.

Hermione shifted, raising one of her legs to grant him permission.

Breaking the kiss, Severus nipped his way along her jaw to the sensitive shell of her ear. “You have no idea, do you?” he murmured, his long fingers pushing the silk of her knickers to one side and brushing her curls.

“Please,” Hermione moaned, shuddering in his arms and pushing against his chest.

“That’s right.” Severus slid a finger between her wet folds. “My proud Gryffindor. Beg.” He suckled her neck and marked her.

She writhed in his arms, twisting and turning. “Merlin’s Beard, you’re wet.” Palming the weight of one of her breasts, Severus reached between them and released his needy sex.

Hermione groaned as if in pain, her movements passionate and violent. “P-professor,” she gasped, as he stroked his fingers deep inside her and rubbed his thumb over her clit. Her eyes closed. Severus could feel the spasms of her heated sex around his digits.

Weeks of frustration conquered his calm reserve, as he pulled his fingers from her. Her eyes formed desire-laden slits as she peered at him. Lifting his fingers to his nose, he inhaled sharply and darted his tongue across his glistening fingers for her taste. “Gods, I’ve missed this.”

--

Hermione watched in fascination as Snape cleaned his fingers. The dreamlike quality of their frantic actions did not escape her, and if she never woke up, she would not care. Her body hummed in perfect harmony, every fiber of her universe in desperate want of this man. Every fiber, except her stomach.

It lurched and roiled, not used to whiskey and the heady smell of sex in the air. The shelves bit into her back. She no longer cared about guarding against him for she would give him anything he asked.

Closing her eyes, she tossed her head back as he ground his knee against the apex of her thighs and nuzzled her neck. He tugged on her nightgown, grousing lowly how inconvenienced he’d become.

It thrilled her – the loss of control, as she heard the material of her dressing gown being ripped in two. He was out of control, mumbling nonsensical phrases against her flesh.

She could feel his cock rub against her as he claimed her breast with punishing fingers. He plucked her nipple to a fine peak, and she winced. They’d been so tender lately.

Snape pulled away and Hermione thought for certain that she would melt into a puddle. But he stooped and picked her up.

“Perhaps my chambers would be better suited for this,” he whispered against her cheek.

The sudden change in orientation caused the room to start spinning. In an effort to stay the dizziness and nausea, she closed her eyes. It only worsened, and Hermione pushed against his shoulder. “Put me down!” she pleaded.

Severus did so reluctantly, trying to pull her against him. With a violent push, she ran to her bedroom and into the loo, where she lost her evening meal.

*****

A/N – Everything belongs to somebody else. Thanks to all who have reviewed and Kathy Rose for beta reading.